#turns out it's been in france since the middle ages! :o

[britishchick09]

turns out carrot spaghetti soup from the rewrite...

is real! :o

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Noah Berlatsky at Everything Is Horrible:

In the Anglophone world, the intertwined issues of Jewish identity and antisemitism are connected in public memory obsessively, and almost solely, to the Holocaust. Occasionally, perhaps, people also mention the blood libels of the Middle Ages, or the pogroms of Eastern Europe.

The Dreyfus Affair, however, is almost entirely forgotten. It is not a moment revisited in movies or television shows. Politicians do not reference it; there are no public museums in its memory; it is not a part of school curriculum. Even Jewish people hardly discuss it. I doubt one in ten Americans, of any ethnicity or religion, could even tell you vaguely who Alfred Dreyfus was. The disappearance of Dreyfus memory is a real loss. That’s not because we need to remember antisemitism. We do, as I’ve mentioned, remember the Holocaust. The Dreyfus Affair, though, was a victory over antisemitism, and a victory particularly for the diaspora, in a way that World War II was not. The Holocaust has largely been interpreted as an object lesson in the untenability of the diaspora, and the necessity of a Zionist Jewish ethnonationalism. The outcome of Dreyfus’ story is considerably more ambivalent. As such, it is worth revisiting at a moment when Zionism is busily and horrifically delegitimizing itself.

The Affair

Since, the outlines of the Dreyfus Affair are probably little known to readers, it’s worth covering them briefly. My discussion here, and throughout the essay, is mostly based on Maurice Samuels new excellent biography/history, Alfred Dreyfus: The Man At the Center of the Affair, part of the Jewish Lives series. During the French Revolution, France put into practice its new ideals of liberty and equality by, among other things, making Jewish people full citizens of the republic. After legislation in 1791, Jews were suddenly—for the first time in any European country—able to live where they wished, attend the best schools, and work in every profession. The results were immediate and dramatic. Jews made rapid gains in political and economic life; some became quite wealthy and influential.

Among those wealthy Jews was the Dreyfus family. Alfred Dreyfus, born 1859, grew up, like most French Jews, with a passionate commitment to the French nation and to the principles of equality which had liberated them. Determined to serve his country, Dreyfus attended the French military academy. He excelled and became arguably the first Jewish officer ever on the General Staff. His future seemed bright. And then, it all fell apart. In 1894, the French army discovered that there was a traitor on the General Staff who had been passing top secret information to the Germans. Dreyfus was accused of treason. The evidence against him was weak to nonexistent; his handwriting was said to match that on the recovered documents, even though it obviously did not. Nonetheless, he was arrested, tried in a sham military trial, and sentenced to life imprisonment. He was sent to the horrific penal colony on Devil’s Island in French Guiana. He endured tortures almost certainly intended to kill him. His wife, contrary to law, was not allowed to accompany him.   Dreyfus was singled out because he was Jewish. The generals, once they had begun down the path of antisemitism, decided they could not turn back without undermining respect for the military. They forged more evidence, and stonewalled investigations as long as possible.

The Affair polarized sentiment in France, both on Dreyfus and on the place of Jews in French society. Liberal intellectuals like Émile Zola who believed in the Republic and a forward-looking, cosmopolitan, free and equal France sided with Dreyfus and demanded a new trial. The Catholic Church, the military, antisemites, and proto-Vichyites insisted that Dreyfus was guilty and should be punished—or, really, insisted that as a Jew he should be punished whether he was guilty or not. The hatred of Jews erupted into antisemitic riots throughout the country; Jews were beaten, their homes burned, their businesses destroyed. Several Jewish people were killed in Algiers, where there were violence against Jews occurred almost daily in 1898.   Dreyfus was brought back for a new trial in 1899; he was convicted again despite overwhelming evidence in his favor, and eventually exonerated completely in 1906. He was restored to the rank of Major, and served with distinction in World War I. He died in 1935. Jewish people in France still leave stones on his grave.

[...] It wasn’t just Dreyfus and Jewish people who fought for Dreyfus though. The Affair energized every corner of the left, calling them almost uniformly to their best selves. Zola, for example, believed in a number of antisemitic stereotypes at the beginning of the Affair; his first article on the case argued that Jewish people had an innate talent for making money. From that inauspicious beginning he quickly became one of the most passionate gentile opponents of antisemitism in history; his famous 1898 pamphlet J’accuse was a devastating denunciation of the military coverup intended to force a number of generals to sue for libel. They did, and Zola was forced to flee the country—but not before opening the case again and ensuring Dreyfus’ retrial.

The political left in France was also, initially, wary of standing with Dreyfus because of antisemitism. For many socialists, Jewish people symbolized the banking industry and the upper class. Dreyfus, a wealthy Jew serving in the military, seemed the wrong man to rally working class parties. But eventually Socialist leader Jean Jaurès, and others in his party, recognized that Dreyfus had become the man, and the issue, on which Catholic monarchist and capitalist forces had decided to fight for France’s soul. In 1898 Jaurès gave a speech in which he denounced antisemitism as a threat to France; shortly thereafter he published a book defending Dreyfus and presenting the Affair as a matter of socialist solidarity. Some on the left refused to join Jaurès, and the Socialists split. But as Samuels’ biography of Dreyfus notes, “Jaurès helped ensure that a large part of the political left in France would align itself with republican values and against antisemitism for decades to come.”

Noah Berlatsky wrote in his Everything Is Horrible Substack about how the Dreyfus Affair served as a victory against fascism and antisemitism, and how it gave the left a tool to fight back against oppression.

[zhwj]

Words and Pictures by the Caged Mayor

I went for a walk through Houhai for the first time in a while and was surprised to find the gardens around Wanghai lou 望海楼 (“Seaview tower”) open to the public. For as long as I’ve lived in Beijing, that property has been closed off, and I’d always heard rumors that it was somehow tangled up in the Chen Xiaotong corruption scandal (one variant also connected it to Liu Xiaoqing’s tax evasion case). The web tells me public access was granted in 2018, more than two decades after construction on the tower was completed in 1997. I know I’ve walked past it since then, but I believe the gardens were behind a barrier for much of the pandemic.

Chen Xiaotong was the son of Chen Xitong, the former mayor of Beijing and the subject of a corruption scandal of his own that earned him a 16-year prison sentence in 1998. Granted medical parole in 2006, he lived the rest of his life mostly out of the public eye until he succumbed to cancer on 2 June 2013 at the age of 83. In the grand tradition of banished statesmen, Chen the elder retired to the wilderness where he turned his mind to poetry and art, styling himself Chief Custodian of the Dragon Garden 龙园施长 (Lóngyuán shīzhǎng), an obvious play on the nearly homophonous Mayor in the Garden Cage 笼园市长 (Lóngyuán shìzhǎng). From his retreat among the groves of Xiaotangshan just outside the north Sixth Ring Road in Beijing’s Changping District, he snapped nature photos, penned light verse, and took friendly calls from retired cadres and other travelers out for a visit to the local hot springs.

Chen may have read in Chinese literature at Peking University in the ’40s, but when I had a chance to flip through a copy of 心随天籁 (“Inspiration from the sounds of nature” perhaps?), the third in his self-published series of oversize, lavishly printed photobooks, nothing in it suggested to me that his turn to politics had robbed the world of a creative genius (although to be fair, middle-aged poets aren’t usually empowered to declare martial law). The photography is blandly inoffensive—the mid-range images resemble vacation snapshots, the landscapes are reminiscent of motivational posters. And it’s all accompanied by equally banal poetry that hews closely to the visuals. Hardly surprising, when you consider that Chen’s most visible contribution to cultural heritage is a mandate that new buildings in the ’80s and ’90s be crowned with classical-style pavilions.

For even more evidence of Chen’s aesthetic sensibility, here’s an anecdote that circulated in Beijing after the 1990 Asian Games, as retold in a column by Zhao Mu that ran in Southern Weekly 南方周末 in 1996. The story goes that Chen Xitong dropped in on a rehearsal for the Games’ opening ceremony. Asked by the director for his opinion, he demurred, and instead told a story about a trip he had recently taken to France, where he had seen a blank canvas titled “Cow Eating Grass.” Where was the grass? he had asked. Eaten by the cow. And the cow? Gone. The director understood immediately: Chen found the performance far too abstract. Zhao concludes: “So the opening ceremony we eventually got to watch was inanely concrete.” (The source for this account is an old blog post titled 陈希同与“牛吃草”, at a link that’s now broken. Zhao Mu tells a slightly different version of the story in a later post.)

Some of the poems do have an amusing playfulness that makes them read more like riddles when divorced from the photography:

信鸽岂畏玩具虎

谁家信鸽落窗前？ 巧遇饵水啄饮欢； 惊见老虎原非虎， 索性陪它玩一玩。 (2009.12)

Why should a pigeon fear a toy tiger?

A homing pigeon lands outside, It stays, enticed to drink its fill. Surprise! That tiger’s just pretend, So why not stay and play a while?

For a brief moment after Jiang Zemin was reported to have died in July 2011, I heard murmurs that Chen Xitong might be rehabilitated. After all, he had only accepted 550,000 yuan in bribes, and even taking into account all the villas and opulent entertainment, his corruption paled next to that of officials in the new millennium. Surely the Shanghai Clique that had engineered his downfall might be willing to make a deal now that he’d outlasted his arch-rival. But then Old Jiang turned up alive and went on to outlive Chen by almost a decade.

But could there have been something substantive behind the rehabilitation rumors? Earlier that year, two poems credited to the Chief Custodian appeared in the January 2011 issue of China Green Pictorial 中国���色画报 to mark the 90th birthday of Shan Zhaoxiang 单昭祥, who served on the Capital Forestation Commission in the 1980s and founded the Beijing Forestation Foundation in 1996. Was the ex-mayor taking a tentative step back into the public sphere and attempting to burnish his own legacy by lauding a colleague whose achievements had taken place largely under his administration?

[johnkrrasinski]

baby, just say yes

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 3,324

Warning: fluff!! pure feelings, inaccurate depiction of middle-age relationships (?)

Summary: inspired by taylor swift’s “love story” and a bit of bridgerton. james barnes was the son of your father’s rival. what happens when two star-crossed lovers fell in love? will their love conquer their families’ bad blood?

a/n: in honour of taylor releasing re-recorded version of love story, i wanted to write something inspired by it because i’m a sucker for fairytales (HA!) i wanted to post this on valentine’s day but it turned out to be longer than i planned. also, bridgerton might have influenced some of my writing. so enjoy! reblogs and comments are always appreciated. :)

The party was in full swing as the music enlivened the masquerade revellers in ball gowns and fancy suits. You stepped into the party in your best dress with your hair half pinned up in braids. You wore your fulgent jewellery proudly, not caring what anyone thought of your confidence. As the daughter of an aristocratic family, you never once had to worry about fortune or popularity. Your father was a powerful man and everyone knew and worshipped the ground you walked on. But really, you were smart enough to know that these people were merely a bunch of bootlickers. They wished to get close to you for your wealth and repute.

The ball that was held by your father bored you. You never really liked any of his associates. You were a naturally an introvert, you preferred to be alone in your room and read books or be with your dog. However, keeping up a good appearance, well your father’s appearance, was necessary to maintain the family’s name. So you had no choice but to get up, get ready and show your face.

You greeted one of your cousins, Bella, who had come all the way from France. She looked dazzling as always. She hoped to meet a rich husband in one of these balls, but none of them had been captivated by her enough to get down on one knee. Somehow, they always turned their heads to you even when you never displayed any interest in marrying any time soon.

People were chatting, laughing and drinking left and right, some were on the hunt for a match. A few men had come up to you and asked for a dance, you always came up with a reason to dodge them. So you ran to the nearest table to get a glass of champagne. A bit of alcohol could soothe your nerves.

And then, as if the world stopped moving and time froze. A man with short dark hair and navy blue velvet suit made an entrance to the ball. He folded his hands behind him and his walk displayed confidence and power. You couldn't see his entire face for he was wearing a mask but even with only half of his face was shown, you could already tell how handsome he was. The scruff on his lower face added to his sex appeal and there was a mysterious way about him.

He walked further into the ball until his eyes found yours, and it was like the butterflies in your stomach had been possessed. He boldly made his way towards you until you were standing face to face. You could make out his features more clearly now from this proximity. You couldn't help but instantly noticed his eyes; how translucent it was, not only in the colour but also the way it spoke to your soul wordlessly. And the blue in them made you think that God created him and inspired the ocean to seize the colour. And his smell was intoxicating. He had a masculine scent to him, filling up your thoughts with obscene scenarios. It piqued your curiosity about the man behind the mask.

You were a respected woman despite your age. Not only because of your family’s power but also because you carved out your image as this ‘untouchable, implausible’ lady to any man. It would take a true magnetic man to charm you and so far, you haven't crossed paths with one yet…. Until tonight.

He broke the silence first by greeting you, “hello there, milady. Quite a warm night, isn’t it?” Oh, how his voice was making you feel things you’d never felt before. Is this what love at first sight felt like?

“Yes, milord. It truly is.” You replied in a calm manner despite the hurricane inside you.

The orchestras began playing a lively tune, inviting men and women to pair up and dance. He held out his hand for you, “may I have this dance, milady?”

He led you to the centre of the ballroom. He stood in line with other men facing their partners. They bowed their heads and so did you with other women. They held out their hands for their partners to take and began putting their hands on their partners’ shoulders and waists.

You held your breath as he laid his hand on your skin, closing the distance between the two of you. He began to take the lead as your feet were moving in sync, trying not to step on him. You had taken dancing classes before but you almost never danced in the ballroom, so you were a little nervous about forgetting the lessons you had learned in front of this beautiful man.

“I never caught your name, milady.”

“I never caught yours either.” You snarked.

“I asked you first, milady,” the smirk on his face showed his amusement.

You chuckled, “My name’s y/n.”

“Such a lovely name for a lovely lady.”

“Oh, please. Cut the coquetry, milord. Plenty of men have told me that before.”

“Oh, have they?”

The choreography made you switch partners and you danced with this stranger. He looked delighted to have a chance with you but you merely smiled politely at him, until they switched back to your previous partners.

“Did that man tell you the same thing?”

“No, but I could tell from his expression that if we had danced a little longer, he would’ve found a synonymous flattery for me.”

“Are you used to having men throw themselves at your feet?”

“Yes, milord. I eat it for breakfast.”

You danced with him a little bit more until he spoke a hushed tone, “this party bores me. Would you like to meet me in the garden once this dance is over?”

“That would be splendid.”

The dance was finished and you bowed to each other and he kissed your gloved hand. “I’ll see you in the garden in 10 minutes.” He walked past by you, brushing your shoulder with his. You turned your head in his direction, deciding whether you should hold onto your words or not. But without much thinking, you took a glass of champagne and then snuck out, avoiding your parents’ scrutiny.

You found him standing there with his hands behind his back in the middle of the garden where flowers surrounded him, making the sight seem romantic. “Are you expecting someone, milord?”

“Not anymore,” he smiled. “I’ve persuaded you into a clandestine meeting, seems like I am winning the game.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, milord. I sneak out to the garden every day. Which reminds me, I didn’t quite catch your name back there.”

“My name’s James, milady. But, you may call me Bucky.”

Your furrowed your brows in a questioning look, “Bucky?”

“Yes. My mother bestowed me that nickname and the people that are closest to me call me Bucky.”

“Hm, is this another of your flattery that I get to call you ‘Bucky’?

“Yes, milady. I don’t take a lot of women to the gardens as well, so you could say you’re pretty special.”

“Let’s see how tonight goes and I will know.”

You and James talked some more. He told you stories about his family and you told him about yours. He also opened up about how his mother died. Though he looked dejected while telling stories about her, most of the times he was charming, with and clever, making you feel at ease in his company. You had met plenty of men but none of them had made you feel as comfortable as James did. He made you laugh several times with his jokes and you exchanged thoughts about social issues such as marriage, love, children with him. You always thought you’d never marry or perhaps you’d marry in your thirties or forties but it seems as if your heart is tossing away those ideas.

You were really enjoying your time with him that there was a moment where it was just the crickets and your soft breaths. You laid your head on his shoulder as his warmth engulfed you. You nearly fell asleep until the voice of your father disrupted your moment. “Y/N!” The sounds of footsteps were approaching and then your father’s incensed face came to view. “Y/N! What do you think you are doing?!”

“Father, calm down, I was merely promenading with James.”

“Milord, forgive me. I asked for your daughter to meet me in this garden. Please, don’t rebuke her.”

“You shut your mouth, young man. I know who you are and I would never let you lay a hand on my daughter, ever again. You should be ashamed o yourself.”

“Father, what are you so furious about?”

“Don’t you know who he is, y/n?!”

“No, who is he?” You looked at James then back to your father. James looked shocked at the intrusion.

“He is the son of that bastard, George Barnes. I had told you many stories about the lies and betrayals they did years ago. I would never forget them.” Your father enunciated those words as he stared into James’ eyes.

“Is that true?”

James looked doubtful, “yes.”

You felt dizzy. The first man that had truly captured your heart was the son of your families’ number one rival. It was as if the world didn’t like the idea of you finding love.

“Y/N, I swear, on my mother’s grave that I didn’t know. I didn’t know you were-”

“You stay away from my daughter! Do you hear me? If I ever see you anywhere near her, I will kill you with my own hands.” You father grabbed your hand then dragged you back to your carriage where your mother had been waiting for you both.

You tried to free yourself out of your father’s grip but it was to no avail. You looked back at James who was still standing there one last time before the carriage took you away. You cried all the way home.

-

It’s been three days since the debacle in the garden. You didn’t regret one thing about your feelings, but you blamed the universe for the circumstances. Out of all the people in the world, why must the man that you’d been waiting for was the one you couldn’t be with?

You missed James. You missed the warmth of being in his arms, the gentleness in his eyes and the way his voice soothed you. You wanted to see him more than anything but since that night, you begged your parents to let you see James, you fought tooth and nail to make your father change his mind, but all you got was being locked in your room after you threatened them to run away from home. They even went as far as hiring a guard to stand in front of your bedroom all day.

You sat by your window, looking up at the moon in your nightgown, wondering if James was thinking of you too until your reverie was disrupted by a knocking sound on your window. You instantly looked down to see what was the cause and the sight before you blew away the dark clouds above your head. James Barnes was standing below, with pebbles in his hand.

He smiled when you saw your face and you opened your windows, “James! What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, of course. Are you able to come down?”

“I’ll try, but be quite okay? Don’t let anyone see you.”

You opened the lock of your door as quietly as possible. It was nearing 2 AM and the guard was snoring in his seat. You minded your steps like a ninja, not wanting to cause any noise. You held your breath when he stirred in his sleep but he thankfully he didn’t wake up. So you sprinted downstairs under the darkness of your mansion.

You quietly unlocked the door of the main entrance and immediately ran to the backyard, where James was waiting for you.

“James!” You shrieked. The joy in his face was palpable, so did yours. You ran to him, lifting your nightgown so you wouldn’t stumble and jumped on him and he caught you.

“I’ve missed you, princess,” James whispered breathily while hiding his face in your shoulder.

“I’ve missed you too. How did you know where I live?”

“I got connections. I’ve spent the last three days endlessly thinking of you.”

“I haven’t thought of anything else other than you too, James.”

He smiled then kissed you deeply, pouring all his longing in the last three days for you.

James took you to the outskirts of the town and you walked hand in hand, wandering around in the night. You talked about the history of your families and how your father wouldn’t let you go out alone knowing that you would try to see him and he told his father about you and what went down in the garden. You sighed, knowing that there was no chance for you and James to be together but then a fleeting thought came.

“Let’s run away,” you recklessly uttered.

“What?” James heard every word you said, he was just taken aback by what it meant.

“Let’s just… Get out of here. We can leave at midnight, I’ll pack up my things and we can be together.”

“Y/N, we can’t.”

“Why?” You were exasperated. “Don’t you wanna be with me, James?”

“I do, however, I can’t do that to you, my love. It’s too dangerous. Your father is a powerful man, I can’t imagine what he would do to us both if he found out.”

“We can, we just have to be careful! C’mon James, I’ve felt so alone my whole life until I met you. I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

“You won’t, darling. I promise you. I’ve got plans, okay? You just need to trust me.”

“Okay, I trust you.”

-

It had been a week since you last saw James and you were losing faith every day. You had no clue of what James was planning to do. You trusted him but you wished he had been more clear of his intentions. Now, all you could do was wait for him in silence, unable to do anything, like a kite in the wind.

“You haven’t touched your food, dear. Is everything alright?” Your mother asked from across the dining table.

“Yes, mother. I am simply not famished.”

“Eat some of your food, will you? I’d hate to see you ill.”

You wished you could sneak behind your father to vent to your mother about your feelings for James, however, you knew that your mother was loyal to your father and there was no secret between them. You used to hope that one day if you’d ever find a husband, you would have the same foundation in your marriage as your parents had, now you would be delighted if they announced their divorce so you could be free from your father.

The majordomo interrupted your dinner by informing that you had a couple of guests. By the look on your father’s face, you could tell that he wasn’t expecting any tonight, but he got up to welcome whoever was waiting outside anyway.

You heard your father’s booming voice from the dining table and you and your mother exchanged glances. You instantly followed him to see what was going on.

“You dare to show your face here after I’ve warned you of staying away from my family!”

And you stopped in your tracks when you saw James standing next to an older man facing your father. “James…”

“Y/N…” Without a second thought, you ran to him, wanting to hold and kiss him more than anything. For a second there, you forgot everyone was watching. But your father caught you and your guard held you back.

“Let go of me!”

“Now I want you out of my land and never to return or there will be a huge consequence.”

“I am here to make peace. My son told me about your daughter and I wasn’t keen on the idea of uniting our families but I am willing to try for him. Let’s end this bad blood between us, Robert. We shall not let our children suffer simply because of our pride.”

“I’d rather die than to let my your bastard of a son touch my daughter.” Your father gritted through his teeth. “Now leave or you will be removed forcibly.” Your father turned around but before he could close the door on them, James stopped him.

“I’m in love with your daughter, Sir Y/L/N.” That stopped your father in his tracks. “I have met many women yet, I have never felt this way for anyone,” James gazed into your eyes.

“In the last two weeks I have known her, I have learned that you raised a bright, courageous, loving, beautiful woman,” he paused, as if he was trying to show you the sincerity behind his confession. You didn’t realize tears have welled up in your eyes.

“From the very moment I saw her in that ball, I knew I’d live in regret if I didn’t catch her name before I leave. Your daughter stood out like a diamond in the dirt and it was an honour to held her hand while dancing. It was an honour knowing her. And it would be an honour to have her by my side until the end of my life,” He paused. “I know I am undeserving of your daughter but I will never let her doubt that she is loved and she deserves everything good I could offer.”

A single tear cascaded down your cheek. “So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” He moved closer toward you, and your father was left speechless by James’ words. James got down on his knee and presented a velvet box with a gleaming diamond ring inside it.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes, thousand times yes.” James put the ring on your finger and you jumped on him and he caught you. For a minute there you forgot that there was still an unresolved animosity between your families, though your mother had a huge smile on her face and she nearly teared up at the sight of her daughter being so in love. George Barnes was smiling ear to ear as well, looking so proud of his son.

He thought that with his son’s reputation of being a rake, he would never settle. But he finally found his match and though he didn’t take it so pleasantly at first, James talked it out to him and George learned to be happy and accept it. George recalled the moment he fell in love with Winnifred, she didn’t come from an aristocratic family. She was merely a singer and his family didn’t approve but he opposed them and married her anyway until they had James. George also hoped that their marriage could end the bad blood between him and your father.

James set you back on the floor and you looked at your father. “Father? I love him and I may never fall in love again. Please, let me be with him. If you love me, you won’t stand in the way.” Your father was baffled, but the resentment in his eyes had softened. “Do you really want to spend the rest of your life waiting for me to find someone to marry and keeping enemies? I’m marrying him whether you approve or not. But I wouldn’t want you to be absent from my wedding.”

Your father sighed, “are you happy?”

“More than I have ever been.”

“Then I suppose, I shall put my pride aside for the one person I love the most in the world.”

“Thank you, father.” You hugged him and he kissed the top of your head.

You grew up being cynical toward fairytales, but for once in your life, you believe that you have found your fairytale ending.

[ahopelessromantic]

Love in the Time of Corona ➳ S. Reid

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Warnings: Some mentions of anxiety, Spencer is in love and forgets how to act like a person

Word count: 2,5k 

Prompts: 23, ‘You love me?’

Getting locked in a hotel with your colleague hadn’t exactly been in your plans. But maybe spending quarantine with Spencer wasn’t even that bad of a thing.

“Are you sure?” Chewing on the insides of your cheeks, you watched Spencer talk to Hotch on the phone. “Alright, call us if anything changes.” With a sigh, he hung up and turned to look at you. “Hotch is trying to pull some strings to get us back home, but for now we’re stuck here.” You nodded, your gaze darting around the hotel lobby. “I need to call Garcia, she needs to know where my spare key is so she can get in and feed Goblin, and shit, I probably don’t have enough food for him for two weeks at home, someone needs to-“ Spencer calmed you down with a hand on your shoulder. “Hotch said Garcia already went to your apartment and fed him, she knew where the key was from when she watered your plants last time you visited your parents. Goblin is well taken care of.” You exhaled and looked into his eyes, scanning them for any form of anxiousness. But there was only kindness in them, and you relaxed. If Spencer wasn’t freaking out, then why should you?

“Come on.” He said, a light smile on his lips. “Let’s go check out how badly assorted the hotel library is.”

Goblin was your cat back home in Quantico, a spoiled diva you loved unconditionally and worried about endlessly. You hadn’t exactly expected the state you were in to go into corona lockdown so suddenly and the whole ordeal made your whole body buzz with anxiety. Of course you wanted to protect as many people as possible from getting sick, and under normal circumstances you would have gone into quarantine without a word of complaint, but you just really wanted to go home. You normally didn’t have a problem with the middle-class hotels your employer booked for you when you were away on cases, but then again you also normally didn’t have to spend long amounts of time in them. Spencer and you had been sent ahead to go check out a possible serial killer case, and the rest of the team would have followed once you had confirmed there were lives at stake. But now, instead of investigating, all you could do was aimlessly roam the hotel’s dull hallways, wishing for a change of scenery or at least, your own four walls. The only distraction and good thing in all of this was Spencer, who was doing an amazing job at keeping you sane. Being alone with your thoughts so much wasn’t exactly the best for your mental health, and if anyone in the world could understand that it was Spencer. He knew what it was like when your own thoughts became a weapon sharp enough to destroy you.

“Look at this idiot.” You chuckled and turned your phone so Spencer could see the picture Penelope had sent you. “He knows exactly that he’s not allowed on the kitchen counter.” Spencer smiled, zooming on the picture of your cat passed out in the sink. “Looks like you raised him well.” He teased, causing you to throw your napkin at him. “Hey! I’ll have you know that I am a very devoted cat mother.” You both laughed, only to be interrupted by the maid that was on breakfast duty. She sighed and sent you both a dreamy look before pulling out her notepad. “Such a sweet couple you two are, makes me miss my younger days. Can I bring you anything else?” Instead of telling her about the second tea you had been meaning to order you just blinked at her in shock. Spencer across from you seemed just as frozen, the two of you probably looking utterly stupid to the hotel’s staff member. She just rolled her eyes and started loading your plates onto her tray. “Not there yet? Okay, I’ll leave you to it.” Once she was gone you both erupted into baffled laughter. It had been eight days in the hotel already, and you were slowly starting to make friends with the staff, but so far you hadn’t really been that close with them. Each day was a mere repetition of the one before, and you were barely clinging to the last shreds of normalcy and sanity anymore. Spencer and you met up for breakfast in the mornings, tried to work on the case for a bit just for the sake of feeling like you still had something meaningful to do, went to lunch, sought shelter in the tiny library that was mostly there for show, had dinner and then, sometimes, you went for a drink in the hotel lobby bar. The two of you were growing closer by the day. It was slowly beginning to feel like Spencer was just an extension of your own limbs instead of a whole different person. You had learned long ago that once Spencer felt comfortable around someone he latched onto them, but now it felt like your souls were truly melting together.

“There you are.” He spoke softly, sitting down across from you. You just acknowledged him with a smile, playing with the coaster of your drink. “I went ahead and ordered your favourite.” You mumbled and watched him nod. Spencer could tell something was off, feeling slightly helpless over how to help you. “You look awfully lost in thought today.” Surprised at his words you looked him in the eyes, not yet used to him being so tuned into your emotions. “I just-“ You stopped yourself to sigh heavily. “I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind. I can’t sleep properly and when I do, I have these really vivid, weird dreams, I miss my apartment and my cat… this just isn’t exactly how I expected this case to go.” Spencer nodded in understanding. “According to a research centre in France, there has been a 35% increase in dream recall, and participants of the study are reporting 15% more negative dreams than usual. Dream experts believe that the withdrawal from our usual environments and daily stimuli forces our subconscious minds to transform the invisible virus into a lot of different things in our dreams. Actually, it’s perfectly normal to be having weird dreams right now. I have them too.” You felt a warm feeling bloom in your chest. Whenever your mind got the best of you these days Spencer was there to bring you back to reality again. He was the ratio to your emotio. “Thank you.”, you mumbled shyly. He smiled. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. You need to get your mind off things.” Conveniently, your hotel rooms were right next to each other, so even after you parted ways for the night you didn’t feel too far from him. For some reason though, that specific night was the worst one for you since being quarantined in the hotel. Even after two hours of shifting you couldn’t find into the realms of sleep, despite feeling exhausted and drained from doing nothing all day. You finally decided to get up and make yourself a cup of tea, loudly stumbling over one of your shoes on the way to the electric kettle. You groaned when your behind met with the floor, not even the carpet properly cushioning your fall. Great. You had quite literally arrived at the bottom of things. A knock at the door ripped you out of your thoughts and, limping slightly, you made your way to your room’s entrance. When you opened the door your face was met with none other’s than Spencer’s, a worried look on his face. “Are you okay? I’ve been hearing you shift around for ages and then I heard a loud thump.” You smiled sheepishly. “I’m good. I just couldn’t sleep again and tripped on my way to make myself some tea.” He looked at you, something like worry in his eyes. And then, suddenly, he hugged you tightly. “Spence, what are you doing?” You asked with wide eyes, face smushed against his chest. “Did you know that hugging releases oxytocin? It’s a powerful hormone that works as an antidote for depressive feelings and anxiety. It also underlies individual and social trust. Hugs even affect our physical well being, for example by lowering our blood pressure. Scientifically-“ “Spencer, I love you, but for the love of god please shut up now.” You murmured, long having closed your eyes and leaned into his warm embrace. It was only then you realised what exactly you had just said. You felt him tense up. “You…” His hand on your back suddenly felt like it was going to burn through your skin. “You love me?” You leaned slightly away from him to look him in the face, surprised about your own words. “I think I do.” You spoke in wonder. Apparently, your subconscious had already known about your feelings for Spencer for way longer than your conscious self. But instead of answering, Spencer stepped away from you, a frazzled look on his face. “I… excuse me.” Helplessly, you watched him disappear back into his room, fear speeding up your heartbeat. What had just happened? Had the lockdown madness finally gotten to you? With trembling fingers, you closed your door behind you. That night you didn’t catch a minute of sleep.

The whole next day you couldn’t find Spencer anywhere. It seemed like he was actively hiding from you, and it made your chest hurt from rejection. He was smart and most of all he was your friend, you had really expected him to at least talk it out with you. But no, rather than that it seemed like he had never stepped foot into that damned hotel. It wasn’t until the late evening hours, when you had already gotten ready for bed, that you saw him again. He had knocked on your door, standing in front of you with an apologetic look on his face and three flowers clutched in one hand. They seemed oddly familiar to you, and at second glance you realised that he had stolen them from the hotel lobby. Before you could even begin to ask, he sent you a pleading look “Please, please don’t say anything right now. I want you to know exactly how I feel, and I practised it in the mirror but quite frankly I have never been this nervous in my life and I might forget something if you start speaking.” His voice was shaky, he was stumbling over his words like you had never seen him do before. “I’m sorry. For running off yesterday. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you this for the longest time and then you just said it so casually and for a moment all my fuses burnt through. I’m so in love with you and I am so terrified because I’ve never felt like this, and I know that once I tell you this it will be real, and my life will change forever. I didn’t think there was a person out there like you, a person for me. There is no scientific proof for soulmates but you just… fit with me. I love you too, (Y/N). I love you.” His words had rendered you speechless. You felt tears run down your cheeks, and it was only when you felt Spencer’s hand wipe them away that you returned to reality. You placed your hand on his, further leaning into his touch, and sobbed. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, I’m sorry. This isn’t really my strong suit.” You laughed and pressed a kiss to his hand. “It’s not mine either. And don’t worry Spence, you were perfect. Thank you for having the courage to tell me. Just please, never run off on me like that again.” He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, a serene smile on his lips. “I promise.”

From there on, the rest of quarantine passed by incredibly quick. Now, you were actually glad you were locked in with Spencer. It gave the two of you the perfect time and opportunity to explore the very nature of your relationship. You started sleeping over in each other’s rooms, wearing each other’s clothes, at night Spencer lulled you to sleep by reading to you. When Hotch called once the two weeks were over to tell you that you would be able to return home with the jet you were almost disappointed. But at least this you could board the jet holding each other’s hands without worrying about anyone seeing. And it wasn’t too bad either that you had had your first time with each other and joined the mile-high club at the same time. You were never going to be able to look at those leather couches the same way again. Touched down back home in Quantico you had the orders to return straight home and quarantine for another fourteen days. Stood in front of your car you could tell that the two of you were trying to prolong your time together, rambling on about the most random things just to avoid having to say goodbye for two weeks. But watching him walk away after one last, long kiss filled your heart with such aching that you called out for him to stop. “Wait, Spence!” He turned around, an almost relieved look on his face. “Yeah?” He walked back to you, gripping the strap of his bag. “I know this is crazy, and maybe it’s too much considering we haven’t even officially talked about whether or not we’re dating now but… I just… hate the thought of suddenly not seeing you for two weeks straight after seeing your cute face every day for what feels like so long. So… do you want to quarantine at my apartment? We can get some of your clothes on the way there, and I promise I’ll cook whatever you want. I just don’t want to miss your morning cuddles anymore.” A wide smile had spread across his features while you had talked, and before you had even fully finished he had already nodded enthusiastically. “Thank god you asked, I didn’t know how to.” Both laughing, you got into your car.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” Morgan groaned when he saw you and Spencer enter the BAU together once quarantine was over. You didn’t even have to hold hands for everyone to see that you were a couple now. “When did they start dating??” Emily looked at you with a grin, crossing her arms. “Technically, it doesn’t look like they started dating. They were just locked in together for so long that they fell in love.” Hotch joined your little group, the usual frown on his face. “Enough about the lovebirds, we have a case to get to. But-“ He turned to look at you and suddenly there was a teasing grin on his face as well. “Looks like quarantine treated you well, right?” You just rolled your eyes, burying your face in your hands. “Not you too, Hotch, not you too!”

Spencer actually didn’t even end up leaving your apartment once quarantine was over. In fact, he had gotten so comfortable that after two months, he terminated the contract for his own flat. Now, every Sunday morning, it wasn’t just you spread out on your couch with your cat anymore. It was the two of you.

[tscmu]

Some headcanons for the Hq boys and how they propose to their s/o?

HI YES THIS IS THE KIND OF STUFF I LOVE WRITING ABOUT PLS okay so u didnt really specify which boys so im gonna go for ones that i can picture proposing that sounded weird ok-

characters; koushi sugawara, satori tendou, kenma kozume, osamu miya + tooru oikawa oK LETS GO

koushi sugawara

- pls he’d make it so heartfelt and meaningful HHH I LOVE HIM~ - he’d want to make you feel how much he loved you, like actually feel it in your heart - i feel like he’d tell a FEW people, probably only get daichi to help AHAHAH - bruh asahi would probably have a mental breakdown and tanaka would snitch💔💔 - but he’d have an idea of what you both wanted i think, you wouldve spoken it over before defos - he’d want it to not be that public, just the two of you - so it’d be at like a hiking trail you both go on or something, a place that means loads to both of you but isn’t there for the world to see - and then...…came the day - he knew how much you picked up on little details so he had to be sneak sneak ten thousand™ - “hey, wanna go out on that one walk up *insert name of place idk*? ok ok ok i’ll get ur coat sugar” - EEEEEEEEEEE - he was trying his absolute best to keep it together - he knew you’d most likely say yes, so he wasn’t TOO scared, but it was still SCARY LIKE- - and then u got to the place he wanted to propose - it was this place where you always stopped, where there was a little bench (with your initials STILL carved into it from all those years ago) and it looked out over a nice view - “ooh, can we stop here again!” “u-huh i was actually gonna ask-” - bro he almost forgot the speech daichi read over to him about 20 times - but HE DID IT WOOOO - he didn’t want to make a MASSIVE deal out of it, the wedding would be more important to him but he still wanted to make you know how much he adored you - speech included lots of memories dating even back to before hed even SPOKEN to you i stg this man - AND U SAID YES!!! u have no choice. u did.

satori tendou

- i feel like he’d be kINDA similar to suga?? - a little less caring - he’d never actually pictured himself getting married tbf- - he never thought he’d actually find the right person so he just....gave up idk - BUT THEN YOU CAME INTO HIS LIFE- - even with you he hadn’t really thought about marriage, he was just focused on having fun with you, but then ushijima was like ‘...so, tendou. when is the wedding commencing between you and y/n.” and he just- - it was actually when they were sitting there he started to plan it - ushijima would SEEM like the worst person to go to, but he was actually quite good at this stuff - so in about 2 hours sat at the back door of tendou’s work, they had sketched out a sort of plan on the back of a spare napkin - there was one main thing he knew he wanted to talk about - how you always stuck by him, no matter what he did - he thought he’d seriously fucked up, and you would be back at his door the next day, smiling and chattering about this new café you heard opened down the road - god, he was terrified to even mention paris to you, but you were so up for the idea, it took him by shock - he didn’t take you for granted - so for once, he wanted to make you feel loved - they couldn’t think of a place to take you for ages, but then it hit them - you and tendou always went to wakatoshi’s games, ever since high school you both always made the commute if you had the time - and ushijima had a game coming up in two weeks...…. - when he mentioned it OFC U WERE DOWN PLS, you loved going back to japan - like ofc france was incredible but......... it was just lovely to see everyone again ;-; - since youd been there so much, you basically just got to stand right at the side of the court AHAHAH - so they won the game. obviously. its ushi and kags we’re talking abt here. are you kidding. then tendou started acting weird, which made u hella sus - it was the first time in what felt like years you’d seen him so...nervy - he kept fumbling over his words, you had to yell at him to speak up - but eventually he did it - he spoke abt how much you meant to him, how you made him more comfortable in his own body, how you stuck by him through everything - AND U SAID YES. AGAIN, U HAVE NO CHOICE. - and yes ushi and kags started cheering and the news outlets put u on the news i dont make the rules ok

kenma kozume

- ok mans is TERRIFIED - he’d quite genuinely never thought about marriage, throughout his years with you by his side it just...never crossed his mind - but it was when you were lying in bed one night, his arm dangled over you as you both drifted in and out of sleep - and it just hit him - why the fuck were you both still like this? - marriage was something you always expressed a love for, when kuroo got married you were basically in a trance the whole time - how was he so unaware? - people described kuroo’s proposal as pretty much perfect, he’d always been good at reading his partner, so he just used that knowledge to make something he knew they’d like - so, to kenma’s extreme distaste, he went to kuroo - oh my god kuroo fucking c r i e d - kenma was finally ‘growing up’ - so after about an hour of kuroo sobbing, they finally got down to business - after lots of.. lets say elaborate ideas from kuroo, and lots of no's from kenma, they finally came to a sort of compromise - since you and kuroo worked in the same department, he would text you on saturday simply asking if you wanted to catch coffee and talk about that one assignment - obviously, you said yes - not thinking anything of it, you just pulled on a jumper and jeans AHAH- - then you notice,,,why tf is he taking u to a beach at 7pm in march???? - #serialkillerkurooheadcanons - but u see kenma and ur like... wtf have u gotten yourself into- - have they been possessed?? who knowz - and then u get BLINDFOLDED LIKE WHAT - but then u snap back down to earth like why would they kidnap u- - as kuroo takes it off, kenma’s quite literally shaking - poor babie - he never really knew how to explain his thoughts properly, so the speech wasn’t anything extremely dramatic and/or romantic - but he did in a way tell you how much you meant to him - he spoke abt how you boost his confidence, have always been there whenever he needed you, and how you seem to always understand him when he’s being at his most blunt - therefore he thinks you’re his soulmate - PLSPLSPL IM CRYING

osamu miya

- i think he always knew he wanted to marry you - atsumu always embarassed him about it- - it got to the point you didn’t actually think he’d propose, you would just wake up one day and a wedding dress would be on the door - but it got to the point where tsumu was mentioning it significantly more when you went over for dinner - mama miya was always telling you how happy she was that samu picked you - even your own parents were being oddly warmer towards samu, whenever they phoned they asked how he was, etc etc - so you knew something was up - samu was always really polite to your parents, asked their permission before he even took you out on a date - ironic because you lived together but still- - so turned out, he actually mentioned proposing to you to them - they adored him for gods sake so of course they said yes - then tsumu thought he was acting weird, so he told his side - jesus christ they freaked out - his parents were always nervous about atsumu, who slept with random people on the weekends, and hadn’t been in a proper relationship since middle school - you were basically their god send AHAHA - so it was a massive deal when he wanted to marry you - it would appear that he didn’t really care, but in honesty it meant the wholeass world to him - like suga, he’d go for a location that meant a lot to both of you - christmas was a huge deal for both your families, they both came together and you had an incredible time - and last year some of the jackals came over, which was just hilarious - so what better time than christmas with your loved ones around you??? - it started off like a normal christmas, you had an incredible dinner ( cooked by none other than osamu ((with atsumu and bokuto attempting to sabotage it but just burning their hands on the pot)) ) then all played some games - but it was when you were all watching the basic christmas tv programmes when the atmosphere... changed - everyone was looking at you and samu, even sakusa looked excited - it was when his father muted the tv, and samu took your hand, your heart was basically beating out your chest. - he spoke about how he felt like, for the entirety you’d been together for, every day he seemed to fall more in love with you. you were like his rock, when things were even a bit off he could just come to you and you’d automatically make him happier even just by looking at you - bruh bokuto and hinata were sobbing in the corner

tooru oikawa

- surprising, but he never thought about marriage - he just kind of assumed he’d be one of those people that would be in a relationship for like a week then just.. move on to another person idk - that was until he ran into you - everyone, even his own parents, said he was a different person when he started dating you - it was ironic, you were quite similar to him - yet you made him rethink his fucking morals  - it was sappy asf - ANYWAY BACK TO THE TOPIC AT HAND - he took this proposal really seriously, he wanted it to be the best moment of your whole life - until the wedding ofc ofc - since you’d basically changed him as a person, he wanted this to just show his appreciation for everything you’d ever done for him - he wanted you to feel his love - and so he set about preparing a good proposal - he’d be like osamu, and definitely ask your parents first - your parents loved him anyway, they thought he was the best thing that’d happened to you for a long while - he basically knew what he wanted to do - nothing too public, but nothing too quiet - whats the point of proposing if some people dont see am i right??? - sometimes when you both either a) needed a break or b) you both had a period of time where you were free, you both just booked an impromptu holiday AHAHHA - #richkidtingz - so obvs he had to do it on one of them... it was ur thing after all?? - it was when you walked in the door, face red, and flopped down on the sofa next to him, he grasped the opportunity - “..got any spare holidays from work?” - you quickly went on a travel agent website and booked a three day holiday to brazil, leaving the next morning - it was one of your favourite places to just escape to, so it made sense for him to propose there tbf - it was as you both woke up the first morning there, still sleepy from the night before, you grinned at eachother. - “hey.. get ready quick, i wanna do something.” “wHAT-” - he didn’t actually know where to do it, he just called a taxi and asked for your favourite high street HAHAH - after about an hour of browsing around shops, your hand never out of his, you finally asked ‘what did you want to do?’ - his breathing almost stopped i stg, he didn’t realise how scared he was - but then... HE DID IT POGGERS - he stuck to what he knew he wanted to speak about, making you sob in the process ofc - and even all the locals congratulated you!!!

--------

HI THIS IS SO LONG IM SORRY BUT I LOVED WRITING IT PLS!! THANK U FOR REQUESTING da box is always open mwah

[scp-miraculous-pandoras-days]

If Elias Gray was brought to the foundation (One-Shot!)

(Since it has been over a year since the Thrill of the Hunt hiatus started, and I'm starving for some content (and this has been bouncing around in my head for a while), here is a joke chapter about if the SCP Foundation was in The Thrill of the Hunt Miraculous Ladybug universe! Also, I own none of the characters other than my own O.C (Dr. Glee), here are some links to the original comic and comic dub, Please enjoy! The art above by Ipku of Deviant art.)

The foundation has tracked a dangerous anomaly to an abandoned warehouse on the east coast of Canada. However, this anomaly was unique. From eyewitnesses' reports, it appeared to be a humanoid wolf hybrid with a white coat and black accents, and gray armor-like plates on its legs, chest, and shoulders, a gray wolf skull for a face, and yellow luminescent eyes. It has exhibited several powers to evade capture... Such as electricity manipulation, the ability to raise voice to the point where it creates destructive soundwaves, abnormal strength, and agility. It is a likely Euclid class and a possible Keter class.

That is what the paper in the girl's hand said. A young, petite girl with light blue eyes, dark black hair with a blue hue, and fair skin sat in a chair, reading the paper in her hand. She wore a black t-shirt, jeans, and a metal collar with a small red light around her neck. That girl was once named Marinette Dupain-cheng, but now her name is Scp-6000, aka Pandora. A bright red box with black polka dots sat on the table in front of her. In the chair opposite from the girl was a woman in a lab coat. She had short dark brown hair with light brown highlights at the roots and ends. A large bang covered the right side of her face, concealing the right eye. Rectangular bottom rimmed eye-glasses sat at the bridge of her nose, the right side also hidden by her hair. Her deep green eyes looked tired and weary... dark bags were always present under them. Around her neck was a think chain with an odd eight-pointed star-like cross resting on her chest. The woman looked at Pandora expectantly.

"Dr. Glee, what do you want from me?" Pandora asked the woman.

"Pandora, it wasn't my idea. But, the o-5 council wants you to help contain this anomaly. It would be in your best interest to comply." The woman called Dr. Glee said. Pandora sighed, running it over in her head.

"I don't want Elias to be here. He does not deserve to be in this place. But... if I don't bring him in... the others will try to get a hold of him..." Pandora thought. Images of her friend being killed by the G.O.C, being used by the Chaos Insurgency, or Serpent's Hand running through her head. She hated the thought, but Elias had to be brought here... to protect him. Pandora looked up at Dr. Glee.

"Alright... I'll help contain him..." Pandora sighed. Dr. Glee looked relieved but paused at Pandora's choice of words. But, she shrugged it off.

                                                          ~+~

Pandora was shocked when she arrived at the warehouse. She wasn't startled by the warehouse itself, but at who was there. Her friend Iris Thompson (Scp-105) was there, in combative gear, her camera around her neck. Her other friend, Cain (Scp-073) was also there, in a black tank top and jeans. But what shocked Pandora the most was the fact that Able (Scp-076) was there! She knew that after seeing her for a little over a month he started to act more human... but the fact the foundation let him out was shocking. He was glaring at Cain with intense hatred, so he hadn't completely changed.

"Er... what's going on?" Pandora asked Iris.

"Well, Able, Cain, and I were brought here to back you up in case the weird wolf thing decided to go nuts and try to hurt you!" Iris told her young friend.

"I have the Kwamis... this isn't necessary!" Pandora sighed.

"We insisted! You are our friend... we will make sure you aren't hurt." Cain said in his robotic voice while keeping one eye on Able.

"While I hate to admit it, my brother is right. We care about you, girl." Able rumbled, still glaring at Cain. Pandora sighed at the trio.

"If you guys insist... I'll call you three in if he gets hissy, alright?" Pandora said. The three nodded at that, but Cain noticed something.

"Pandora, you say that like you know it... do you have familiarity with this thing?" He asked.

"I won't answer that..." Pandora said, holding her box close to her. An M.T.F soldier walked up to her.

"The anomaly is in the warehouse... are you ready, Scp-6000?" He asked.

"I am..." Pandora responded.

"Elias... please know this is for the best..." Pandora thought to herself as the M.T.F soldier with a few others escorted her to the entrance, with the trio of humanoid anomalies tailing them.

                                                         ~+~

Elias sat in his wolf form on the rafters of the abandoned warehouse. Who were the people hunting him? What did they want? Did they want to capture and kill him? These thoughts swirled around in his head, and he sat. His ears perked up when he heard a door open. He turned his head towards the sound and listened hard.

"Scp-6000, you understand what you must do, correct?" A male voice asked. Elias exhaled through his nose. They were sending someone else in to do their dirty work? How pathetic! But then, he heard a familiar voice... her voice...

"I know what I'm doing, don't worry." The familiar voice said. Elias moved to get a better looked at the source of the voices... He saw a man in a S.W.A.T-like uniform talking to...

"Marinette!" Elias thought. There was no mistaking that hair. However, Elias noticed that she was different. She wore a plain black t-shirt and jeans... her hair was down and a few inches longer. Her eyes were different too... they looked... tired... and old.

"What have those people put her through?" Elias thought angrily. He then noticed the object in her hands.

"Isn't that the Miracle Box?" He thought.

"Calm down, my pup. You must get all the information before you go on an angry rampage." Ylva told him in his head. Elias nodded and waited.

The man gave Mariette a walkie-talkie and closed the door on her.

"Coward..." Elias thought. He started to stalk from above.

                                                         ~+~

Pandora sighed as she walked through the warehouse. She kept an eye on her surroundings. She didn't know how Elias would act.

"He may still be an a$$, but he won't hurt me... I hope..." Pandora thought. She felt eyes on her, and she stopped walking.

"You know... I never found the point in stalking prey before attacking it~" Pandora mused. She heard something descending from the rafters above. Jumping down from one crate to another, landing a few feet behind her. Pandora turned around to acknowledge her old friend.

"You haven't changed at all, have you?" She asked the humanoid wolf. He didn't answer... he only stared. Pandora was about to say something, but she was cut off.

"You're... alive?" He asked.

"Why... wouldn't I be?" She responded.

"But... the plane crash..." He started.

"Hold on, Plane crash?! What was the story everyone in was told?!" Pandora asked.

"Erm... well... we were told that you were going to America for an educational opportunity. But a malfunction on the plane you were on made the plane crash somewhere in the Atlantic ocean." He told her. Pandora stayed silent for a moment.

"Well then... So that's the story the foundation told my friends and family. Looks like I'm going to have a "talk" with the higher-ups when this is all over," Pandora said to herself.

"I'm glad you're alive... what really happened, though?" Elias asked.

The two started to chat with each other. Trading stories about what happened after Pandora was taken into the foundation. In the middle of Pandora's story about how she and Iris met, the walkie-talkie placed next to the Miracle Box suddenly buzzed to life.

"Pandora! Is everything alright? You have been in there for a while! Over!" Iris's voice said. Pandora picked up the walkie-talkie.

"Relax, Iris. Everything is going smoothly! Over!" Pandora said into the walkie-talkie.

"Are you sure? Over!" Iris asked.

"Very sure! Over!" Pandora responded. She then turned the walkie-talkie off and turned to her friend.

"My friends outside are getting antsy. We're going to have to cut it off!" Pandora told her Elias.

"Okay? But... why did that girl call you 'Pandora'? Your name is Marinette." Elias said.

"I haven't gone by Marinette in ages. My new name is Pandora ever since I was brought to the foundation. Actually, I prefer Pandora over Marinette now!" Pandora said.

"Geez... You'll still be the clumsy girl I knew back in high school in France, though..." Elias teased.

"Of course-" Pandora started, but a crashing sound was heard. The two turned to the source of the noise to find an agitated, 6-foot, tattooed warrior smashing through the warehouse. His exasperated cyborg brother, and an equally exasperated blonde girl on his heels.

"What the..." Elias started.

"I know..." Pandora responded before her friend could finish.

The two immortals and girl stopped when they saw their friend sitting with the anomaly she was supposed to be containing.

"Erm... Pandora, what are you doing?" The blonde girl called Iris asked her friend.

"Having a conversation with an old school friend," Pandora responded nonchalantly.

"An old school friend?" The cyborg-like man known as Cain asked.

"Yes, we went to the same high school back in Paris for a little while. He... was always like this..." Pandora said, gesturing to her friend. The tattooed man who was called Able... then dropped his weapons (which disappeared the moment they left his hands), and started to walk out.

"Able, where are you going?!" Iris asked incredulously as he walked away.

"I quit..." Able responded.

"What do you mean 'I quit'?! Able, get back here!" Iris said, jogging after the guy.

"You never said anything... why?" Cain asked.

"I didn't think it was important..." Pandora said.

"PANDORA-"

                                           We'll be right back!

                                                         ~+~

"So... you never brought up the fact that you went to the same high school with another anomaly because you were never asked?" Dr. Glee clarified.

"That is one way of putting it!" Pandora responded. Dr. Glee face-palmed and gulped down some coffee from the cup she had in her hand.

"The fact you were hiding this makes me wonder what else you are hiding from the foundation..." Dr. Glee sighed.

"You know... drinking too much coffee isn't good for your health..." Elias quipped. He was in his human form, wearing some clothes Pandora had given him. Ylva was at his side, dozing as he scratched her head.

"Look, mister werewolf, this stuff is one of the only things keeping me going... besides that, Pandora, hiding things from the foundation won't end well." Dr. Glee said.

"Dr. Glee, with all due respect, the foundation was the best option for me. But, it is not good. I don't trust anyone there, even you. I don't want the wrong people to use the Miraculous for the wrong purpose." Pandora said.

"Yeah... I agree with Mar- I mean, Pandora. She and I have seen what the Miraculous are capable in the wrong hands..." Elias commented.

"I suppose that's fair... But this is going to cost paperwork... looks like I'm pulling an all-nighter... again..." Dr. Glee sighed, downing the last of her coffee... before leaving the interrogation room.

"Is that lady always like that?" Elias asked.

"The foundation is not the easiest place to work... and considering all she's been through ever since she first became a researcher... she is bound to be messed up as a result..." Pandora responded with a sigh.

"She's not the only one who was f***ed up by this place..." Elias quipped.

"Judging from the look in your eye, you've seen some s*** too..."

"It's true..." Pandora sighed.

"Because of the capabilities of the Miraculous, the foundation is very interested in me. I've been asked to do so much for them, some of it fun, some of it... not so fun..." She confessed.

"Why don't you leave?" Elias asked.

"As I told Dr. Glee, this place was the best option for me... There are other organizations, that is true, but they don't have any interest in keeping the Miraculous a secret." Pandora explained to her friend.

"Care to elaborate?" Elias asked. Ylva's ears perked up.

"Well, there is the Global Occult Coalition. They were formed by the United Nations, and instead of containing and researching anomalies... they kill them..." Pandora sighed.

"Kill them?!" Elias exclaimed. Ylva looked alarmed.

"Yup! Those b*****s wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in my head and throw the Miracle Box in an incinerator. They likely would have done something similar to you if the foundation hadn't gotten to you first." Pandora said.

"W-well then... are there others?" Elias asked.

"There is the Serpent's Hand... they want to reveal anomalies to the world and live in peace with them. It's a childish dream if you ask me, and an irresponsible one at that..." Pandora said.

"True..." Elias said, eyeing the Miracle Box In Pandora's hands.

"Then there is the Chaos Insurgency... I am not touching that thing with a ten-meter pole even if you pay me to do so..." Pandora sighed.

"What do they do?" Elias asked.

"They create chaos, you can tell from the name... they tried to get their hands on me at one point... yeah... didn't end well... had to get an amnesiac to forget the whole incident..." Pandora said.

"Jesus... are there any others?" Elias asked.

"Those are just the organizations I know of! Some anomalous churches and cults would love to get their hands on me! And who knows how many are out there!" Pandora ranted.

"Oh, God... What did I get myself into?" Elias asked.

"I have to wonder that too..." Ylva said.

"Oh... you two..." Pandora chuckled ominously.

"Welcome to the S.C.P Foundation! Otherwise known as; Hell~" Pandora said, throwing her arms wide open in faux welcome.

(Here’s a one shot! And if you want, you see more of this stuff here!)

[ive-lost-my-effervescent-mind]

So I watched Interview with the Vampire for the first time

I watched Interview with a Vampire for the first time just now and here are my thoughts, in the order I thought them. The movie is like two hours long and I had a LOT of thoughts but the movie’s on hulu so if you watch it, maybe read along idk

Christian Slater looks like Logan Lerman send tweet

Brad Pitt isn't that hot ngl

What's with Vampires and the confederacy?

I mean really. Twilight, Vampire Dairies, Beautiful Creatures and now this

Ngl, flying while drinking someone's blood is pretty gay

This whole movie so far is pretty gay

They're boyfriends, I've decided it

Okay maybe Brad Pitt was kinda hot

Tom Crusie is still creepy tho

All this seems pretty tame so far, idk why it's rated R

"Now look with your vampire eyes." Stephenie Meyer wishes she wrote this line

"I'll be waiting for you." G A Y

Are they in France?

Oh no he has a conscience 

Tom Cruise being the best vampire boyfriend and killing the victim for his vampire boyfriend 

It's important to note that i have no idea what these characters' names are

Literally, I don't think they've been said

Did he just- is he eating a rat?

Oh, they're in Louisiana

Lestat, what a funny name

I need some blood, Lestat

Read her mind? really? The more pre-twilight vampire stuff I see the less impressed I become with Stephenie Meyer’s concepts

What's that thing on his thumb?

You may be old enough to be his grandmother, murderous old lady, but his vampire boyfriend is more than old enough to be yours

"Life without me would be even more unbearable" I said it before and I’ll say it again: GAY

Brad Pitt really said let's go to KFC

Wow they're really trying to convince us that Vampire Brad Pitt was nice to his slaves and really cared about them. Disgusting

Oh, his name is Louis

Maybe Tom Cruise is cute

Still creepy tho

Okay, NOW they're in France

Is he-is he eating her boob!?

Yes! He drank her blood from her boob!

I get why it's R now

"So I'm sitting there with blood on my titties"

I love Louis's hair, such volume

The coffee table is a coffin, how smart

There is a lot of drinking of rats in this movie

Oh, the plague, how relatable 

Awww, Baby Kirsten Dunst

More rats, yay

He made her a vampire?

She's like 9. Imagine never aging past nine

Oh, it's a knife ring. How cool

Wow Claudia really likes the test of vamp blood. It's not like Lestat doesn't deserve it

Wow, she becomes a vampire and her hair is instantly curled

How nice, he's poking a hole in the nanny-juice box for her

"Our little daughter." G A Y

I appreciate this gay vampire dad content

I love how she kills every man who pisses her off. Good for her

"I want to be her." Poor baby

Claudia is fighting back. So much rage in such a small body

Oh my god her hair. It just grows back. Dear god

She cut him. Good for her

Oh no

"Louis my love" oh no oh no oh no

If this movie is going where i think it is imma turn it off

Oh wait nvm

She just wants to leave

Thank god

"Is that supposed to scare me?" This kid is I C O N I C

Lestat is a Le-Jerk

Did she kill him?

She did, she did kill him. He deserved it tho

"He belongs with those reptiles." Claudia is a savage

This is such a violent and brutal break up

Also: this movie is L O N G

Oh no, the plague, again

At least Claudia gets to go to a ball, and the opera

I don't know who this other vampire is but i sense that he's an asshole

He's so odd. But i guess you do what you gotta do to say entertained

You could say his eternal life literally drove him up the wall

Oh! The dad from spy kids

He has a card, how classy

I love how no one questions that Louis takes a kid out in high society 

"A vampire pretending to be a human pretending to be a vampire." " How avant garde" this kid!

Oh my god that isn't an actress. Its an actual victum

There he is! The dad from spy kids!

They really killed her in front of all those people. Theatre these days, amirite?

How cute, they have little coffin cubbies

See Louis, every vampire has a kid

Oh wait no

He's not a vampire kid, he's an actual child that they just feed on

Vampire dad-from-spy-kids really said fuck your morality

Why does Claudia call Louis beloved. It creeps me out

It's illegal to kill another vampire. Damn

It's illegal to make a young vampire, as it should be

That being said, Lestat told them none of this!

Ofc, Louis has made yet another vampire fall in love with him. Good for him

"You...are...beautiful, my friend." G A Y

Lestat was really everyone's asshole ex, wasn't he?

Oh no! Claudia wants a friend

She's guilt tripping him. Good for her

Oh wow, he actually did it

Oh wait he didn't 

Oh no, he lost his humanity 

Why is she gonna kiss him

Oh good the vampire police are here to stop it

I mean: oh no! Not the vampire kid!

Armand! Do something! Save your vampire love interest!

More coffins, great

Louis's punishment is giving me "Cask of armillio” vibes 

Oh shit, the dungeons has no ceiling to the sky, she's gonna burn

Poor Claudia

Oh, and also Madeline i guess

Yes Armond! Free him!

Louis for vampire dad of the year

Oh no...they're ash

Poor Louis

"So vampires can cry" See Smeyer! See!

Is that...oil?

Oh yes, yes it is. And he's covering everything with it

LOUIS REALLY SAID ALL YOU KILLED MY DAUGHTER, PREPARE TO DIE

wheres armund tho

Oh no the sun

There he is! There's Armund!

And the blood boy

Oh shit, Louis is maaddd

"But the world was a tomb to me." Damn

More rats. Great.

"The scent of death...an old death." Lestat? Is that you?

It is Lestat!

He looks like shit

Has he been sitting there since the late 1700s?

"But all my passion went with her golden hair." Still unclear if he loves her as a daughter or as something else...very creepy

Proof that this movie is gay: the framing device takes place in SF

Oh shit. It's Lestat

He's gonna kill the interviewer 

Damn Lestat is salty

Oh wait, he's gonna turn him

In conclusion

All vampire content is, on some level, gay, whether intentional or not. This movie is definitely not the exception.

This movie is L O N G

the plot is kinda unclear. It’s very character driven (?)

Edward should have made Bella watch this movie in order to convince her not to be a vampire

Even though Jane is originally a brunette in the books, she’s esentially just Claudia

I started watching this movie thinking Tom Crusie and Brad Pitt are just kinda creepy middle aged dudes. It’s nice to know they were kinda cute back in the day. Still creepy tho

For some reason, I thought this was the movie where the little girl says “I see dead people”

It isn’t, in case anyone is wondering

[conteramme]

Emmeline Basics

AD HONOREM RPG

► GENERAL INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Emmeline Vance

NICKNAME(S): Em

AGE: 21

ZODIAC: Leo

DATE OF BIRTH:  August 24th

SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S): English and enough French to order herself a croissant

HOUSE: Ravenclaw

OCCUPATION: Unspeakable specialising in Legilimency

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

AFFILIATIONS: Order of the Phoenix

SEXUALITY: Pansexual

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

► APPEARANCE

HEIGHT: 5′6”

WEIGHT: Slim / 110 pounds

DOMINANT HAND: Right

HAIR COLOUR: Blonde

EYE COLOUR: Brown

SCARS: One on her knee from falling from a small height when she was younger and another wrapped around her wrist (snaking up towards her elbow) from a spell gone wrong while working.

► BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: Yorkshire, England

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Muggle London

FINANCIAL STATUS: Financially independent

PATRONUS: A cat

PETS:

WAND: Unicorn tail hair, cedar wood, 11 ¼ inches, sturdy

POSITIVE TRAITS: Self-controlled and genuinely kind

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Coercive and stubborn

LIKES: Being with people she can really talk to, travelling for work, dancing, a nice glass of wine and a bath after a hard day at work

DISLIKES: Liars, authority figures who abuse their power, physical violence, not being able to talk about her job with anyone

► PAST

Emmeline graduated Hogwarts with the best of intentions and promises to keep in touch with her friends in such dark and unprecedented times. She graduated with full marks from her N.E.W.T’s, a report card chockablock with O’s, and every intention of becoming a Magical History researcher and one day a professor. But three years on and in the middle of war, things haven’t quite turned out how she thought they would.

Three months after graduation she joined the Order. This wasn’t a hard decision at all. There was already a massive divide between her own beliefs and those of her parents, but since school had ended and everyone had gone their separate ways, Em had noticed a massive chasm open up between what she believed was right and what people who had once been her friends now believed was right. The concept of blood purity was now so foreign to her that she could no longer understood how it had once been an integral part of her family’s identity.

Every morning she opened the paper to a new horror story, heard a crackled recount of the previous night’s terror broadcast through the tinny radio, and saw the suspicion in strangers’ quick glances as they hurried from place to place without speaking to one another. The streets had become silent; filled with people but somehow as quiet as a graveyard. Disappearances were becoming more and more frequent, and families were considering going into hiding in order to protect themselves.

The British Ministry of Magic began recruiting Aurors left, right, and centre and Emmeline found herself abandoning plans to further her studies and instead signed herself up for six months of gruelling training for the Auror Division.

Fast forward six months and Em had completed her training with full marks and was offered a job immediately.

To throw a spanner in the works, a second agency has also offered her a job. Taking into account her current training and things that had been noticed during that training like the fact that she could produce a corporeal patronus (canon), her use of wandless magic (canon), and her ability to use her wand whilst flying (canon), the French Ministry of Magic had also developed a keen interest in her talents. However, they weren’t offering her an Auror position; they were recruiting her for their own Department of Mysteries. And so eighteen-year-old Emmeline Vance packed up her life and relocated to Paris to join the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France as an Unspeakable.

Two years later, Em is back in London. Hiding in plain sight in Muggle London, shes in the throes of unpacking her life and starting new. That means decorating the run-down flat she bought, settling back into life at the Ministry of Magic and her new office, and making friends all over again. As she’s now an Unspeakable specialising in Legilimency, it’s been almost impossible to make friends. After all, no one trusts someone who’s internationally renowned for messing with your mind, no matter how good her intentions might be. She’s also back within the Order’s ranks and ready to fight for a better world.

► NOTES

Emmeline is known to be an incredibly gifted witch (canon)

She can produce a corporeal patronus

Em is particularly gifted in the art of wandless magic

She is a highly adept and accomplished flyer (canon)

Emmeline can use her wand whilst flying, which is a hard feat to accomplish (canon)

[deadrcbins]

Oneshot Requests! (Bonus: Jeffmads headcanons!)

Yeah, I’m pretty imitable and unoriginal. Sorry, Aaron. Anyway, like a majority of the fandom, I’m making Hamilton one shots! I take requests, I’m great with any angst, no smut, and I’m great with fluff, as well! 

(The cover is John Laurens approved, even though he preferred birds to turtles, the background looked nice.)

SO, onto ships!

I do:

~Jeffmads, since that’s my OTP

~Lams, since it’s also OTP

~Mullette, because it’s OTP in the fandom and in my heart

And literally ANY other ship in the fandom. ANY. If I name them all, I can go on for days!

The exceptions are incest between the Schuylers, and Washette/Whamilton unless there’s no age gap. 

Anyway, thank you so much for reading!

PLEASE NOTE THAT I’LL DO HEADCANONS BEFORE I DO MY ONESHOTS! THANKS!

~

Jeffmads Headcanons:

Let’s start with Madison:

How do they react to a breakup?

James will usually cry a lot and shut himself inside the house for a bit until Thomas comes over and forces him into a Disney movie marathon, complete with ice cream, pillow forts, and a lot of blankets. Of course, this was before Thomas and James professed their undying love for each other. He also becomes very moody and becomes the ULTIMATE emo kid, often dressed in dark and everything. He’ll also contemplate what he did wrong in the relationship and wallow in his self-pity for a bit. This span stretches out for two weeks before he’s back to normal, and so far, he’s only had two breakup episodes.

What would they do if they caught their soulmate cheating?

James’ entire world would crash down. Everything falls out of orbit, and it’d be exactly his worst fear. Thomas is a real good-looking guy...why would he even want to be with James when there are so many other people much more impressive than James? He’d definitely fall into depression. It’d be horrifying for him. Life’s colorful palette would surely turn monotonous. 

Would they leave in the middle of an argument?

No, never. Thomas and James have an envious relationship with each other, and it never becomes that extreme. They’ll talk it out and compromise when it gets to this point. This is quite seldom, though, and over odd issues. 

“Tommy! You’ve burned my favorite pan! Now my omelette won’t taste as good!”

“Buy a new one, then, Jemmy! That YouTube video was so hard to follow!”

Would they make up after a huge argument?

Most definitely. They’re a power couple, a force to be reckoned with!

If James would break up with Thomas, for what reason would it be?

Thomas is too easily jealous of anyone even looking at James the wrong way. He’s a bit clingy, as well. Also, Thomas ends up in a lot of fights with Hamilton, and James gets worried for Thomas’ safety. Gremlin though he may be, he also went to summer military academy, so Hamilton is stronger than he lets on. Thomas has height and build, but can’t channel much of it.

Moving on their S/O?

Jemmy would be horribly depressed, but life has a way of moving on whether you wish to or not. He’ll most likely never find passionate love again, and Thomas remains etched into his memory for life.

Emotions while arguing?

Mostly irritation and annoyance, and afterward, regret and sadness.

How do they and their S/O deal with loss?

It was Thomas who experienced loss, between losing his father at fourteen, and Martha Wayles, his high school sweetheart. James comforted him both times. Madison lost his grandmother to cancer a few years back, and he immediately fell into a grievance for months. His grandmother was his only confidant after Thomas left for Paris, and it disheartened him greatly. He’d never felt so alone in the world, and on top of that, while Thomas was gone, James’ parents pressured him in the first place to go to that highly competitive boarding school for the gifted and talented. He developed his anxiety and anxious introvertedness (Is that a word?) that would plague him for quite a while after. He fears not being good enough, and he constantly feels incompetent and unimportant, despite Thomas’ protests. He kept a secret from Thomas. He tried to take his own life. He stopped hurting himself after Thomas and James got together. 

Biggest regret? 

James’ biggest regret was not being able to maintain the best relationship with his grandmother, who was the one pillar in his life, as he lived with her for two years while James’ parents sent him off to school two hours from there, in the same town Gramma lived. 

Thomas’ Headcanons:

How do they react to a breakup?

Thomas has only been in two relationships before James. Before he met Martha, there was this girl named Sally who dumped Thomas for someone named William Clark. He was depressed, quiet, reserved, and sad for a week with Sally gone, and he was horribly self conscious about his tics, he was fidgety, too. It was horribly out of character, and even Hamilton bought Jefferson a cupcake. He compared himself to everyone else for ages after that. Luckily James was great at comforting, and he was so kind to Thomas afterwards. James made Thomas Mac ‘N’ Cheese and they both pranked Hamilton secretly just for fun, He bottles his emotions until the last day of his phase, then cracks. The next day, he’s back to normal.

Would they ever leave in the middle of an argument?

Again, no, never. Thomas might get stressed out trying to compete with Hamilton at work and work itself, and/or might have had a bad day occasionally, so he’ll be extra moody those days. James knows that he’s anxious about something, so he tries to give Thomas space those days, often reading or watching TV or doing something quietly until he cools off.

Would they make up after an argument?

Most definitely. Thomas is a little puppy. He’ll always come back, loyal and a tad clingy. They enjoy talking out their issues and compromise. 

If Thomas were to break up with James, for what reason would it be?

Thomas loves James and you cannot convince anyone otherwise. Cons

Moving on from their S/O?

Thomas actually had to do this with Martha. In the beginning, it was difficult, and he fell down a vortex of emotions, feelings he wasn’t used to feeling, and like with Sally, Hamilton tried his hardest to console Thomas so that they could fight again. Thomas hates being alone, and losing James as well...it’s unimaginable.

Emotions while arguing:

First, it’s annoyance and irritation, then guilt and sadness. 

How do they and their S/O deal with loss?

It was Thomas who experienced loss, between losing his father at fourteen, and Martha Wayles, his high school sweetheart. James comforted him both times. He likes to keep it private, you won’t even know he cried. Mostly his way of accepting is helping and comforting other people, and shuts his emotions and mourns privately.

What is their biggest regret?

Not getting to say goodbye to his father and Martha, who both died in car crashes. Martha died, she was going with her friend Merida, who survived, on their way to A La Mode, and Peter, Randolph, and Thomas were involved in a car crash the year before, after coming back from a guys’ day out fishing trip. He feels he distracted the drivers both times and deaths were his fault, though it wasn’t. Thomas rode shotgun, giving him his cane, and Randolph had his spleen removed. Elizabeth, their sister who had autism and brain trouble, went crazy after hearing of the crash and refused to sit in a car. They give her Benadryl or sleep medicine. now for necessary trips. A secret Thomas kept from James was that he failed a suicide attempt, but doesn’t self-harm anymore after James and himself got together. Little did he know, while he was in France...James, ever depressed, tried the same thing.    

[scotianostra]

On February 8th 1587 Mary Queen of Scots was beheaded at Fotheringay Castle.

I have used a few different sources to piece together the actual eye witness accounts of our Queen's last moments and the execution itself, beforehand I will briefly go through the life she led until this fateful day

Mary's troubles began six days after her birth in 1542. It was on that day that her father, King James V of Scotland, died and the infant was declared Queen of the Scots. She was immediately thrust into a cauldron of political turmoil containing a broiling mix of the long-standing enmity between Scotland and England, the fragility of the Tudor succession to the English throne, England's rivalry with France, and the religious violence between Catholics and Protestants.

As the great-granddaughter of England's Henry VII, Mary was next in line to the crown of England after Henry VIII's children - Edward, Mary and Elizabeth. The Scots attempted to remove the threat posed to Henry's succession by pledging the new-born Mary to marriage with his son Edward. This plan soon self-destructed, however, and the Scots turned to their old ally (and England's old enemy) France. Mary was sent there at age six for her upbringing and education. She would marry the French Dauphin, but, always a sickly child, he died before they could produce and heir, the family couldn't get rid of her fast enough afterwards. 

The 18-year-old Mary returned to Scotland in 1561 to reign as Queen of her subjects. Contrary to all expectations, Queen and subjects initially achieved an accommodation. However, this situation quickly deteriorated.

In 1565 Mary married her first cousin Henry, Lord Darnley and gave birth to a son - James - the following year. In 1567, her husband was murdered and Mary quickly married the Scottish Earl of Bothwell an action that outraged the Scottish nobility who promptly imprisoned Mary and forced her to abdicate her throne to her one-year-old son, James.

The following year Mary escaped from her prison but was forced to flee across the border with England after the defeat of her supporters at the Battle of Langside, near Glasgow, on May 13. Instead of the refuge she anticipated, Mary was immediately imprisoned by Queen Elizabeth and spent the next 19 years shuffling from castle to castle while her cousin deliberated what to do with her. Mary became a lighting rod for plots and rumoured plots against Elizabeth. Finally, in 1587, Elizabeth was persuaded to end the threat to her throne once and for all and ordered Mary's execution.

Mary's execution took place at Fotheringhay Castle. Pierre de Bourdeille, seigneur de Brantome was a member of the French nobility who accompanied Mary during her internment. He provides us with a sympathetic account of Mary's execution that begins with the arrival of a delegation from Queen Elizabeth announcing that the former Queen of the Scots is to be executed the next day:

"On February 7, 1587, the representatives of the English Queen, reached the Castle of Fotheringay, where the Queen of Scotland was confined at that time, between two and three o'clock in the afternoon. In the presence of her jailer, Paulet, they read their commission regarding the execution of the prisoner, and said that they would proceed with their task the next morning between seven and eight o'clock. The jailer was then ordered to have everything in readiness.Without betraying any astonishment, the Queen thanked them for their good news, saying that nothing could be more welcome to her, since she longed for an end to her miseries, and had been prepared for death ever since she had been sent as a prisoner to England. However, she begged the envoys to give her a little time in which to make herself ready, make her will, and place her affairs in order. It was within their power and discretion to grant these requests. The Count of Shrewsbury replied rudely,

'No, no, Madam you must die, you must die! Be ready between seven and eight in the morning. It cannot be delayed a moment beyond that time.' 

Mary spent the rest of the day and the early hours of the next morning writing farewell letters to friends and relatives, saying goodbye to her ladies-in-waiting, and praying. We rejoin de Bourdeille's account as Mary enters the room designated for her execution and is denied access to her priest:

"The scaffold had been erected in the middle of a large room. It measured twelve feet along each side and two feet in height, and was covered by a coarse cloth of linen.

The Queen entered the room full of grace and majesty, just as if she were coming to a ball. There was no change on her features as she entered. Drawing up before the scaffold, she summoned her major-domo and said to him: 'Please help me mount this. This is the last request I shall make of you.' Then she repeated to him all that she had said to him in her room about what he should tell her son. Standing on the scaffold, she asked for her almoner, (chaplain) begging the officers present to allow him to come. But this was refused point-blank. The Count of Kent told her that he pitied her greatly to see her thus the victim of the superstition of past ages, advising her to carry the cross of Christ in her heart rather than in her hand. To this she replied that it would be difficult to hold a thing so lovely in her hand and not feel it thrill the heart, and that what became every Christian in the hour of death was to bear with him the true Symbol of Redemption."

It must have troubled her deeply not to have the comfort of her Chaplain at this the hour of her death, and  in my opinion it was a cruel thing to do to this very devout woman. Back to the eye witness account......

Standing on the scaffold, Mary angrily rejects her captors' offer of a Protestant minister to give her comfort. She kneels while she begs that Queen Elizabeth spare her ladies-in-waiting and prays for the conversion of the Isle of Britain and Scotland to the Catholic Church:"When this was over, she summoned her women to help her remove her black veil, her head-dress, and other ornaments. When the executioner attempted to do this, she cried out:'Nay, my good man, touch me not!'But she could not prevent him from touching her, for when her dress was lowered as far as her waist; the scoundrel caught her roughly by the arm and pulled off her doublet. Her skirt was cut so low that her neck and throat, whiter than alabaster, were revealed. She concealed these as well as she could, saying that she was not used to disrobing in public, especially before so large an assemblage. There were about four or five hundred people present.

The executioner fell to his knees before her and implored her forgiveness. The Queen told him that she willingly forgave him and alI who were responsible for her death, as freely as she hoped her sins would be forgiven by God. Turning to the woman to whom she, had given her handkerchief, she asked for it. She wore a golden crucifix, made out of the wood of the true cross, with a picture of Our Lord on it. She was about to give this to one of her women, but the executioner forbade it, even though Her Majesty had promised that the woman would give him thrice its value in money.

After kissing her women once more, she bade them go, with her blessing, as she made the sign of the cross over them. One of them was unable to keep from crying, so that the Queen had to impose silence upon her by saying she had promised that nothing of the kind would interfere with the business in hand. They were to stand back quietly, pray to God for her soul, and bear truthful testimony that she had died in the bosom of the Holy Catholic religion.

One of the women then tied the handkerchief over her eyes. The Queen quickly, and with great courage, knelt dawn, showing no signs of faltering. So great was her bravery that all present were moved, and there were few among them that could refrain from tears. In their hearts they condemned themselves far the injustice that was being done.

The executioner, or rather the minister of Satan, strove to kill not only her body but also her soul, and kept interrupting her prayers. The Queen repeated in Latin the Psalm beginning In te, Damine, speravi; nan canfundar in aeternum. When she was through she laid her head on the block, and as she repeated the prayer, the executioner struck her a great blow upon the neck, which was not, however, entirely severed. Then he struck twice more, since it was obvious that he wished to make the victim's martyrdom all the more severe. It was not so much the suffering, but the cause, that made the martyr.

The executioner then picked up the severed head and, showing it to those present, cried out: 'God save Queen Elizabeth! May all the enemies of the true Evangel thus perish!'

Saying this, he stripped off the dead Queen's head-dress, in order to show her hair, which was now white, and which she had been afraid to show to everyone when she was still alive, or to have properly dressed, as she did when her hair was fair and light.

It was not old age that had turned it white, for she was only thirty-five when this took place, and scarcely forty when she met her death, but the troubles, misfortunes, and sorrows which she had suffered, especially in her prison." From other sources on the execution  we are told "Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit,” she whispered in Latin, as the executioner raised his axe and swung. To his horror, he missed, merely grazing the Queen's head.

"Sweet Jesus,” she was heard groaning quietly as the axe was lifted again. This time, it nearly severed neck from body. Angry and exasperated, the executioner sawed through the remaining flesh. The head rolled away, while the body fell on its back, bleeding.

I turn to Robert Wynkfeilde, the official observer at the execution, who wrote in his account  that her lips remained moving for a quarter of an hour after her decapitation......

The Queen kneeled downe on the Cufhion refolutely, and without any Token of Fear of Death, fayde allowde in Lattine, the Pfalme, In to domine confido: Then groaping for the block, thee layde down hir Head, putting hir cheane over hir backe with bothe hir hands, which holding there fill, had been cut off, had they not been efpyed.Att laft while one of the Executioners held hir ftreightly with one of his Hands, the other gave two Stroakes with an Axe before he did cutt of hir Head, and yet left a little grifsle behinde.She made very famll noyfe, no Part ftirred from the Place where thee laye. The Execu­tioners lifted upp the Head, and bad God fave the Queen. Then her dreffing of Lawne fell from hir Head, which apeared as a greye as if the had been threefcore and ten Years old, powled very fhorte, her Face much atered, her lips stirred upp and downe almoft a Quarter of an Hower after her Head was cutt off.One of the Executioners plucking off her Garters, efpyed her little Dogg, which had crept vner her Cloathes, which would not be gotten forth but with Force; and afterwards would not departe from the dead corps, but came and layde between hir Head and Shoulders, a Thing much noted. The Dogg, embrewed in her bloud, was carryed awaye and wathed…

I wonder why, after her cruel execution they would not have made her ready for her funeral instead of  it becoming some sort of spectacle at a freak show, giving her no respect at all even in death.

The last paragraph of Wynkfeildes’ is especially heartbreaking about her wee dug, when the executioner went to remove Mary’s garters he noticed that her tiny pet dog had been hidden under her dress the whole time. They could not get the animal to abandon his dead mistress; it ran out from her clothes to lay down in the puddle of blood between her severed head and neck.

Mary, Queen of Scots was buried in Peterborough Cathedral, although when her son James succeeded Elizabeth as the ruler of England, he had her body exhumed and buried in Westminster Abbey. She remains there today, right across from her cousin who signed her death warrant.

I shall follow this post up tomorrow with reactions to the event.

[kshitij1997]

Chapter 8: Childhood, stories and role models

A late evening in Midsummer, 1825, Arendelle

King Agnarr's passion for books and stories was legendary. He had been collecting books since the age of five. He had books on all subjects, be it tales of ancient times, philosophy, nature, mathematics, the skies above, the sciences that dealt with the functioning of the world. Not to mention the private histories that he had collected of various people across the world. The lives o great people who lived centuries before him from lands as far as the hermit kingdom of Korea, the isolated lands of Japan, the protectorate of India and the Dutch East Indies (Modern day Indonesia). Stories that appealed to the greater good in all humanity.

Stories of Warlords like Yi Sun Shin, the naval commander who defeated a fleet of nearly five hundred enemy Japanese warships, with only twenty-three ships under his command, using the ingenious turtleships, a fighting vessel of war centuries ahead of its time, when the Japanese invaded in 1592 to 1598, even as he was being hunted down by his own master, the king. Stories of supreme courage to fight against all odds for your homeland, be it the enemy or your own government.

Then there were stories like that of Ashoka the Great, the ruthless emperor, warlord and warmonger whose name meant 'the one who never mourned', whose expansive policies brought all ancient India under his control, save for Kalinga. Said emperor was fair to his people and cruel to his enemies. Said usurper waged war against his hundred brothers when they were between him and the throne. Said conqueror vanquished the state of Kalinga when he declared war on Kalinga, where he was defeated even in victory. The cries of the mauled, dying and mourning forever left an impression on the emperor who hadn't known sorrow ever before in his life, who spent the rest of his life shunning conquest, embracing Buddhism, taking the path of non-violence and allowing his children to abandon their royal titles and become monks to spread the faith. Stories of war, conquest and eventual repentance, sacrifice, forgiveness and redemption.

Tales of extreme dedication and unbreakable vows, like the one taken by Gajah Mada, the Prime Minister of the empire of Majapahit, who swore not to touch spice and experience pleasure until all the Indonesian islands were under Majapahit's control. It took him twenty-one years, but he did it.

Tales of Kings, queens, warlords, soldiers and even a few common people with extraordinary fates.

King Agnarr felt proud to have such stories of such people from around the world. How throughout history, people face similar problems and situations and how they rise to face them. He felt even prouder when he realized that his wife Iduna also loved stories. But the proudest moment for him was when he found out that his children had an even greater passion for reading than him. Elsa and Olva were nearly inseparable, taking great joy in reciting their favourite stories and playacting their favourite characters. The fact that Olva had an almost academic interest in Elsa's ice powers was also found to be very charming by the king. She would often challenge Elsa to make something out of ice, usually a new word or name of an object she just learned, and Elsa usually rose to the occasion and made it as if it was second nature.

'How can you make that, Elsie?'

'I don't know Olba, it just came to me.'

'Is that what a pearl looks like, Pa?' Olva asked her father.

'I'm sorry sweetheart, but it doesn't.' Corrected the king. 'This is a pearl' Said the king as he showed the corner jewel of his ring.

Elsa's face fell as she realized her crystal of ice was not the right shape for a pearl.

Agnarr asked Olva 'Well little one, where did you hear the word?'

Olva replied sheepishly a book 'In this big book, it was the only word I could get.'

Agnarr laughed inwardly as he realised that his five-year-old and three-and-a-half-year-old kids had stumbled upon a book written in middle English. Olva helpfully guided him to the place where she had read the curious word. He read the sentence in all the middle English that he could remember, which was ample in this case. It was a beautiful sentence:

'The smooth pearl doesn't pretend to shine, for it knows that it is close to the heart.'

Agnarr smiled, my kids are too precious.

He sat alongside them and said ' Well Elsa, the shape may be off, but it is a pearl for sure. Your ice is close to you isn't it?'

Elsa replied with a small voice ' I think so?'

'Yes, it is! She makes pretty things all the time. She loves it.' Olva chimed in.

Elsa blushed with a small smile 'It is very pretty, and I like doing it, so I guess it is close to me.'

'It is close to both of us, it is a pearl to us.' Olva added as she hugged Elsa from behind. Elsa didn't admit it, but she loved a good hug. She also loved to mess with Olva at times. She waved her little hands over Olva's head and declared 'I name this: vanilla on black forest.'

'Hey! Not fair Elsie!' said Olva as she brushed the thin snow frosting from her dark brown hair.

'Bahahaha, it's so much fun messing with you.' Laughed Elsa even as Olva stuck her tongue out. Elsa responded in kind with a raspberry.

'Alright girls, calm down, ma's here.' Iduna said as she entered the royal chambers with princess Anna, who had just turned two years old, and was learning to speak her first words.

'Snow!' cried the baby princess as she held her head with both her tiny hands.

'Hey Anna!' Both Elsa and Olva chimed in unison as they were beside their baby sister in no time.

'Hey Anna, want to see something?' Elsa spoke to Anna, always one to ask even though Anna never said no to her.

Elsa waved her hands to form a ball of ice, but the difference was that it glowed with a luminescence of its own, as if she had tamed a star into her hands.

'Whoa! Elsie, that's beautiful' Olva said, clearly taken in by the glowing ball of ice.

'Mine!' cried Anna as she reached out to it with her baby hands. She tried to bite into it, alas she was not prepared for the cold.

'Ow!' She yelped and started crying, as the ball of ice fell to the floor and was smashed into a thousand little pieces.

'Oh no!' Elsa wailed as she grabbed Anna and proceeded to comfort her in her arms. Olva joined in and tried to coo her and made clicking sounds with her tongue to calm her down. Eventually the redhaired princess, a quality she had inherited from her father, managed to calm down and started giggling in Elsa's arms as tears of relief ebbed from Elsa's face.

'I'm so sorry Anna.' Elsa wept quietly, even as Olva had now started to comfort her.

'She's all right Elsa, it was just a little chill.' Olva reassured the platinum blonde.

The king and queen watched the scene play out from a small distance, curious to see how they would handle it. The princesses were all right in the end, the royal couple breathed a sigh of relief.

Agnarr's thoughts drifted back to when they had first gotten pregnant with Anna; Dr. Klaus had advised the king not to conceive so quickly after Olva's birth. However, with the deed done, the good doctor advised the king to go for a caesarean operation when the time of delivery came. The king was vary about the procedure at first, but Dr. Klaus had pacified him by saying that it would be easier and safer for both the queen and the doctor. So, the third child was born and named Anna by them together. Elsa and Olva were almost immediately taken in by their baby sister and made sure to always keep her happy and entertained and make her feel loved.

Iduna's thoughts were drifting too, albeit in a different direction. Sure, this was just a small accident, but who knew what could happen with Elsa's powers. She felt foolish in that moment; there was a time when she was comforting Agnarr in his moments of doubt, and now she felt the same fears, only much, much worse. She prayed to all the gods she knew to please let her children have a normal childhood. To not panic when in moment of vulnerability, to not abandon those who believed in her, not to give in to hate when the world was against her. How could her gifted, cursed child even begin to understand these things, much less take the correct decision when the situation arose?

Well, as her mother, she could cultivate a sense of responsibility in her eldest.

'Olva' Iduna called 'Today you and Anna shall sleep with Pa, Elsa will sleep with me.'

'Aw Ma why?' Anna asked even as Olva, who held her, was already snuggled beside her father.

'I need to talk with Elsa, she needs to know something. Good night.' The queen answered quietly. With that, she left the royal chambers to sleep in her own private quarters with Elsa.

'It's okay Anna, sleep with big sister Olva tonight' Olva said, then gave a small kiss on Anna's forehead as they both snuggled close to their father.

'Are you cross with Pa?' Elsa asked nervously when mother and daughter reached their chamber.

'No sweetheart' Iduna comforted her 'I'm here to tell you a story. I promised to tell you a story when you were ready, remember? Well, I think you're ready now.'

Elsa's face lit up as she remembered 'Oh yes! This should be fun! I'm ready.'

The little princess huddled to her mother's side as the duo settled in for the night.

'So, what's the story, Ma?'

'Well, this is a slightly different story than you are used to, little one. It isn't a story of magic; or of princesses being saved by their princes. No, this is a story of survival and sacrifice. The story of a woman who battled the world to protect her family, even if it cost her everything. It might be a story based on true events.'

'Oh, a true story?' Elsa perked up; true stories were a special occasion.

'Yes sweetheart' Iduna whispered.

Iduna proceeded to tell the story of a girl like Elsa, her real name lost to time. The girl was in her late teens, had powers over water and lived with her family in Avignon, France in the 14h century, at the height of pope Innocent the third's rule in the catholic church of Rome. One year, the rains had failed, and famine threatened follow, leading to peasants dying in the thousands from thirst and rising in protest. The girl stepped forward to help the needy, using her powers of water to help those in need and to improve the scene. The pope did not approve; this girl was going to spoil the carefully laid out narrative he had created to destroy the heretic cathars by citing the drought as god's fury. How dare that pipsqueak stand in his way? To discredit her, Innocent the third branded her as a witch, and sent the papal armies and inquisitors after her. The girl had anticipated this and advised her parents and her little brother to escape as quickly as they could. As fate would have it, she was captured and tortured for weeks on end, as the inquisitors wanted the whole family to be vanquished for the crime of nurturing a witch. But the girl held strong, as her family escaped the clutches of the pope away from France with a heavy heart, the girl was sentenced to burn at the stake. The girl went to her death quite bravely, but her screams as she burnt continued to haunt the memories of the local people for centuries afterwards and in time, the girl was canonized as saint Vida of Avignon. Her parents died from the grief, however her little brother survived and found himself in Arendelle. In due course of time, he became a powerful official, and his descendants went on to inherit the crown of Arendelle.

Elsa listened to the story in stunned silence, and once Iduna was finished with the story, she asked one question 'So the little brother is my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather?'

'Yes, most likely.'

'I wonder what the girl felt as she died, did she feel sad or happy?' Elsa mused

'Why would she feel sad or happy, Elsa? I think she was very scared.'

'Alright, but was she sad or scared that she was going to die, or happy that she saved her family?'

'I think she felt both at the same time.'

'Can you feel sad and happy at the same time, Ma?' Elsa asked. Iduna began to worry that with questions like that, Elsa was not going to go to sleep. Maybe she chose the wrong story to tell?

'You will find out on your own someday, now close your eyes snowflake.'

As Elsa settled down to sleep, she murmured 'I think, if I was in her place, I would do the same.'

Iduna thought, god forbid should the day come, I fear you might have to.

Across the North Sea towards the south, in the Southern Isles

Queen Paulina was reeling with frustration and anger after another attempt at insurgency into Russia had failed. Her trusted aide, one she had personally broken bread with and had appointed in her service, had tried to poison prince Nicholas in order to prevent him from coming to the Russian throne. If it had gone to plan, the military man would die along with the aging emperor who himself was knocking on death's door, and prince Pokhilarpov, the weakling that he was, would be her puppet as Poland would come back to Europe. Alas it was not so, as her vassal had been intercepted and caught by the prince's private guard. At least he had the decency to poison himself to death before he could be questioned, so she was safe for now. Nevertheless, it was a source of anxiety and anger.

Queen Paulina was counting her losses and planning her next move when her son, prince Hans came running and crying to her. He was wet from head to toe, his fine tunic was tattered, and his face was swollen from the beating he had received in a scuffle, blood ebbing from his forehead. In his hand, he held a torn piece of paper that once had been a paper boat. 'Ma!' cried the young prince of five years of age 'Look at what they have done!'

'What are you crying about now?' Asked the exasperated queen. This boy needs toughening up, he never ceases to cry, the insufferable coward.

'I was near the pool, playing with the boat I made, when the triplets came and pushed me into the pool!' The prince wailed.

'And?' The queen asked.

'When I climbed out to fight them, they punched me in the face, tore my clothes and, and me boat.' The prince finished and started crying again.

'So instead of taking out an eye, you came running back to me? What are you going to do in life? Hmm?' Hissed the irritated queen 'I have bigger troubles to deal with than a squabble between toddlers.'

'Please, Ma. Help me' The prince begged as big tears rolled down.

'Not until you stop crying. Even then why should I help you? This is between you and the triplets. Ask help from your elder siblings if you're so desperate.'

'They hate me, I heard them say that they wished I was dead.'

'What?!' The queen screamed, it was not enough that she had enemies all over Europe, now she had these runts threatening her own child? 'Alright, stop crying, I'll take them to task.'

It was a heated conversation between king and queen when she badgered him in front of their children and ministers, in the imperial court. The king had always avoided conflict, so it was natural that he was severely outclassed by his determined wife.

'Please calm down, Paulina, I can't discuss this here. Please understand.' The king pleaded.

The queen would not back down this time 'I'm supposed to calm down?! When YOU've ignored your children and have failed to see that they are at each other's throats?! I'm supposed to care for decorum and understand your position, when YOU plan for an early grave, while your children are waiting to be let loose and go picnicking on each other?! You nurse snakes in your garden, and cry when you get bitten, who the fuck do you think you are?!' The impossibly irate queen finished her rebuke even as the king's officials and ministers quietly bid their leave.

'Please breathe sweetheart, are they not your children as well?' The king tried to pacify and prod his queen at the same time. A spectacularly poor decision on his part.

'My children?! If they were my children, they wouldn't ever dare say such things. Admit it, you are at your wit's end, aren't you? You don't know how to raise your own children anymore, do you? Looks like I'll have to deal with them personally.' The queen finished with a growl, implying dire consequences for those who had stirred her wrath.

The king was terrified. Of all his wives, she was the only woman who had reduced him to such a quivering, pathetic state. He was scared in general of her, but there were moments like these, when he was truly frightened of her. At one point, he was formidable, unbeatable, invincible. This woman had reduced him to a scraggy, whining fool. At one point in his life, he had known how to laugh, now all he knew was fear.

'No, Paulina, please do nothing of the sort, I'll talk to them personally, I promise.' The king pleaded with folded hands.

'You better do so, lest I strip these baboons myself and have them made into shoes.' The queen relented, in her own way.

Outside the courtroom, Janus was in a corner hearing everything with an expression of horror.

An island off Northern Cyprus, the Ottoman Empire

It was a curious place to be sure, the tower was black like obsidian glass, smack in the middle of the dense forest. Who thought a small island could have such a jungle? But the tower had a treacherous secret of its own; if anyone had tried to touch the stony tower in order to climb it, the unfortunate person was reduced to ash and powder in a matter of seconds. If anyone was lucky, they may leave a skeleton behind as a terrible warning to all. At one point the six-year-old girl living in the tower wanted to remove the bones, but her mother advised against it; she may catch a curse herself if she touched the remains. So, the little girl had little in the way of distraction; Maybe paint a bit, frolic around the castle for a bit, trying not to trip over her golden blonde hair even as her hair grew longer than her body, often using the same hair to bring back to life the young birds who had been killed while perching on the tower, while telling them to avoid her mother's vegetable patch.

She loved how the hair glowed like the sun when she read the incantation in her head. She enjoyed seeing the little birds wake up as if from a deep slumber, before flying away. She also loved taking care of the vegetable patch, feeling a great sense of pride when the land produced good legumes. But her mind always wandered back to the remains, how she felt that perhaps, the people lying there didn't deserve to die. Unknown to her mother, she had tried to bring the skeletons back to life, but she fainted, and all she saw was black. When she came to her senses, she found her mother holding her on by her bundle of hair for dear life, her face wet from tears.

It was then she understood, it was too late for them, and she had nearly died in the process of reviving them. Never again would she touch the remains.

All in all, it wasn't a bad life in the tower; she had everything she needed, a soft bed, good food, and materials for creating art. Once she found out how far her mother had to travel for said materials, she appreciated them even more. However, there was one thing that wasn't there in the tower.

The only thing she wanted, was to go outside the tower, to see the world, to get out of the tower. If she was to choose the day she wanted to go, it would be the day the people in the distance let loose thousands of lanterns every year. It was a special day for another reason, the lanterns always flew up on her birthday. Oh, to experience that in person!

She was broken from her thoughts when her mother called out 'Rapunzel! Time for lunch.' The owner of the voice was a dark-haired woman with exotic features, with eyes that revealed a life lived far longer than what the face showed.

The little girl responded 'Yes, Gothel.' It felt strange calling her mother by her name, but if she preferred it that way, who was she to complain?

Oh, this was a big one, I think.

We're getting close!

As always, feel free to tell me how you feel with regards to the story. Love it or hate it, please feel free in letting me know :D

Until next time.

[surrepo-iuvenisdomina]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹  𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻 repost, don’t reblog!

GENERAL.

full name.  Kaya nicknames. Ka-chan, blondie, M.K. height. 5′6′‘ / 1.67 mts age. 19 zodiac. virgo languages. English and French, can understand other romance languages fairly easily

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair color.  pale blonde. Loose, for the most part, reaching her shoulder blades eye color. dark brown. Wide and expressive skin tone. pale, almost to a sickly degree, though as of now, it’s gained more color. Easy to bruise, delicate body type. hourglass, not as pronounced but still defined accent.  english, very proper yet caring dominant hand.  right posture. elegant, ladylike, with shoulders back and down, a straight stand-up, straightened knees. Her eyes barely see the floor, rarely slouches but won’t hesitate to ‘relax’ when in the presence of people close to her scars. only in the palm of her hands, which are hard to find unless paying close attention, the product of hours of gardening tattoos.  none most noticeable features. her striking resemblance with her late mother when Naomi was around her age is most likely the thing that stands out the most, along with her overall weak physiognomy. People who have no knowledge of her social status might think she’s from the middle class by the way she dresses, even if she’s of high society

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth.  Syrup Village, East Blue // Grenoble, France hometown.  Syrup Village, East Blue // Birmingham, England birth weight / height.  5 lbs / 17 inches manner of birth.  natural birth first words. ‘Der‘, from either father or mother siblings.  none parents. her father, Kazuo, and mother, Naomi, both deceased shortly after Kaya turned 16. Her butler/guardian, Merry has been taking care of her since she was born, and has adopted a father-like role parental involvement. despite the fact that her parents were present in the vast majority of her life, their occupations would keep them busy for long periods of time, in which they traveled far from home to make their business all over the world, leaving Kaya in the care of Merry and the servants. Every time they were back, however, her father would spend most of his time with Kaya to make up for his absence. As for her mother, their relationship was never the sweetest one, but Kaya still loved them both dearly, seeing how much their deaths affected both her physical and mental health to the point where she was left bedridden for a year

ADULT LIFE.

occupation. medicine student at the Imperial College London. current residence. London, England close friends. Aria, Sahar, Deuce. Has met once again with Rem, after many years of not knowing of the other’s whereabouts relationship status. single financial status. wealthy. Received her parents’ inheritance after they died driver’s license. has one, though barely drives by Merry’s request. Usually has a driver criminal record.  none

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation.  demisexual romantic orientation. demiromantic preferred emotional role.  submissive | dominant | switch |  unsure(??) preferred sexual role.  submissive  |  dominant  |  switch |  sex-repulsed libido. low/below average turn on’s. as of right now, she has never explored her body for other than searching for injuries inflicted by x or y reasons, so she’s absolutely clueless as to what gets her going. Overall, tenderness seems to do the trick. Soft caresses that linger for more than intended. Worship. Basic stimulation that doesn’t cross the line of indecency/subtlety turn off’s. aggressiveness, degradation, pain, vulgarity. Being pushed/forced to say yes to something.  love language. for someone who dedicates the majority of her time in her studies, spending time together can be difficult, but it’s what she tends to appreciate the most, even if it means just being in the same space while each other do their own thing. Granted, she will go the extra mile and finish sooner to dedicate her s/o some well-deserved attention, so postponed activities or little to no time spent with her s/o is definitely hurtful -even more than forgetting to get her something for her birthday. Acts of service are a close second, as she will help out in whatever she can to make their life a little easier —if there’s something they have to do but don’t feel like doing it, she will do it for them (as long as it doesn’t turn out a bad habit, clearly), or she’ll even do something with/for them knowing she doesn’t particularly enjoy it to show interest in her partner’s likes. If her partner shows a liking for receiving gifts, she’ll absolutely spoil them with their favorites. She enjoys pleasing her partner overall and doing things that will cheer them up/make them happy/ensure their well-being. relationship tendencies. while it isn’t something she takes pride in, she’s kindly rejected any and all love confessions because of her lack of interest in dating someone when she’s so focused in studying at the moment. that doesn’t mean she hasn’t thought about it, but the idea of meeting someone who won’t be as understanding about her preference of not dropping her pace keeps her from even trying. As the saying goes, she’s realized (little by little) that she could be attracted to those who are different from her in terms of personality, though she’s too shy to say it aloud. People regularly don’t stick in her mind for their appearance, but they do for their actions whether good or bad. In terms of friendship, she usually gives everyone a chance, and is capable of forgiving and giving second opportunities if she feels like the person in cuestion deserves it.

Granted, she won’t always be the sunshine she regularly is, but for her S/O she’s willing to go the EXTRA mile and take better care of her mental health so that she can be someone they can rely on. A little playful, she might play innocent, harmless pranks to get a laugh out of them, but won’t hesitate to drop it all altogether if by any reason her S/O is hurt. Obviously, since she’s studying medicine, she’ll pamper them when they get sick or hurt, going as far as kissing their wounds in hopes of making them feel better.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song. one day in august - Marc Teichert hobbies to pass the time.  studying, listening to stories, gardening, solving crossword puzzles, flower arrangement to its most basic level, playing with her cat, long walks by the shore, sailing mental illnesses. depression. Anxiety disorder physical illnesses. might not look the part, but her immune system has become stronger after being prone (almost to a ridiculous point) to getting sick, only requires glasses for reading. left or right-brained. right-brained. fears. being lied to, failing to help those in need, rejection, violence, inability to protect those close to her, not being good enough, being forgotten, the dark, deep water self-confidence level. not as high as it would seem from a person of high society, but firmly believes she can and will do anything as long as she wholeheartedly sets herself on achieving it. Has a strong spirit that won’t give up easily. vulnerabilities. her physical strength could never match with her mental one, so she’s someone who needs protection, whether she likes it or not. Outright refuses to learn any self-defense techniques as she is heavily against violence. Her trusting nature makes her an easy target. While not the smallest person, she’s definitely easy to handle/carry around. Self-sacrificial to a point. 

tagged by: stole it from @jojoingjoseph bc this dude steals from me too jabdfsjdf :p Tagging: @cursed-leader , @sxrosee , @silentcigarette , @betterhealing , @seakiumi and anyone who feels like it!

[sunnybugz]

abc get to know me tag

a - age: i turned 14 in january

b - birthplace: Canada

c - current time: 2:41 PM

d - drink you last had: sprite

e - easiest person to talk to: my best friends kare and izzy uwu

f - favourite song: uh it changes every 5 minutes but my fav atm is 1950 by king princess or worst of you by maisie williams

g - grossest memory: i have no clue i block everything out

h - horror yes or horror no: only if im with someone, i cant watch horror movies alone!

i - in love: not romantically as of recently, but im a strong believer in the fact that you can be platonically in love, so in that sense, yes.

j - jealous of people: oops yes, im a jealous person and i hate it, i have really unstable self esteem though. im trying to get better!

l - love at first sight or should i walk by again: i believe in love at first site, but the only relationship i’ve ever been in, we were friends for four years before getting together.

m - middle name:  louise morralee. louise is the middle name my mother alwasys wanted (she wanted her initials to be JKLM), and morralee is her last name and since my parents aren’t married, she wanted me to have her last name somewhere.

n - number of siblings: i have two brothers (ages eleven and eighteen), and two half-sisters (who are in their twenties and i usually don’t admit to being related to)

o - one wish: a cure for every deadly disease. my best friend has cystic fibrosis and i would kill to have her live a long, happy life.

p - person you last called: i don’t talk on the phone, it’s really scary to me. the last person i texted was my friend kare tho

q - question you’re always asked: what do you want to do? my answer is always changing, i don’t know how i want my life to play out yet. i just hope i’m happy.

r - reading anything right now: i just finished They Both Die At The End for the bazillionth time haha

s - song you last sang: Requiem from Dear Evan Hansen, i’m trying to choose an audition song for a play my city is doing.

t - time you woke up: 11:11 AM

u - underwear colour: pink

v - vacation destination: i would love to travel the world, but if i had to pick one place, it might either be Greece, Thailand, or France.

w - when was the last time you really laughed: today because my little brother and i were staring eachother down to see who had to change the garbage bag

x - x-rays: i’ve had them for my arm, hips, and knee

y - your favourite food: pasta or stuffed peppers

z - zodiac sign: capricorn

[curiozitywizard-blog]

Emir Abdelkader, a Saint among the Princes

The year 1827 came with the great battle of Navarino. A naval battle between the Ottoman navy together with the Egyptian navy, against the allied forces of Britain, France and Russia, during the Greek war of independence. The Ottoman’s days of dominating the Mediterranean sea came to an end since the allied forces decisively defeated the Ottoman and the Egyptian forces resulting almost complete destruction of the Algerian navy which was an essential force of the Ottoman navy since the Algerian coast was the naval base of the Ottoman Empire. 

Algeria, a country with a vast area and strategic location, and a province of the Ottoman Empire since the days of Barbarossa, is now without a defence force. Because the stray herd has to be devoured by the wolves, France marched toward the Algerian coasts, in an attempt of conquest. The French forces were faced by a resistance led by the forces of Hussein Dey, the ruler of the Ottoman Regency of Algiers. But the French troops were able to settle in the coast of Sidi Fredj after defeating the Algerian forces in an unequal battle known as the battle of Stawali, to set the sails for colonialism that lasted for one hundred and thirty-two years (1830 - 1962).

Let us answer one question; why France? It is because France always saw itself as the protector of Catholicism and the fact that the crusades started from France and not from Rome is enough as proof. And Algeria was known as “the Land of Islam and Jihad”. So the conquest was motivated by religious tendencies, in fact, some historians considered it a crusade. Now, Let us respond to the people who claim that France invaded Algeria to create a civilization. Algeria was a civilized Ottoman Regency. It was rich economically, in fact, France was borrowing money and grain such as wheat from Algeria. France was not able to pay its debts, and after a contentious meeting on 29 April 1827 in which the French consul refused to provide satisfactory answers, the dey struck the consul with his fly-whisk. And later, the incident became known as “the fan affair”, and it was one of the indirect causes of the conquest. The population of Algeria was highly educated, as the German traveller Wilhelm Schimmer/Shimbra -who visited Algeria in 1831 1832- said: “I have deliberately searched for one Arab in Algeria who is illiterate, but I couldn’t find any, while I found people who were not able to read or write in southern Europe where it is hard to find someone who can read or write.”

Eradicating the Islamic civilization and the Islamic values and morals was a major gaol for France in Algeria. Out of one hundred and twelve mosques in Algiers - the capital city of Algeria - only five left. The rest were turned into warehouses and stables. Strict orders were given to the France soldiers by General Thomas Robert Bugeaud, to take all the books that they found in the mosques and libraries, and transfer them to France to translate the content. After the battle of Stawali, the France soldiers immediately spread into the city and broke into houses to loot gold and booty. Women ears were cut off by the knife in order to take their golden earrings. And even worse crimes were committed. Algerian women tattooing their hands and heads was a famous trend. Because Christians in that time were disgusted by tattoos, so it was the only solution to protect Algerian women from getting raped. Rivers of blood, oppression and injustice, soon overflowed the whole Algerian land. During these atrocities, a hero emerged, he is Emir Abdelkader El Djezairi. Who later would be known as “Saint among the Princes, the Prince among the Saints”.

Born in the sixth of September 1808 near the town of Mascara. Raised in a religious household. His father, Muhyi al-Din, was a muqaddam in a religious institution, which means he has been authorised by his/her guide (Sheikh, master, teacher) to assist in teaching the path to other students. Abdelkader the boy, received a traditional education in theology, legal theory and grammar; it was said that he could read and write by the age of five. By the age of fourteen, he was able to memorise the Quran by heart, thereby receiving the title of Hafiz. By the age of seventeen, he set out to the Hajj, the Muslim pilgrimage and took the road to Mecca. He returned to his homeland a few months before the French invasion.

The invaders have come. Abdelkader with his knowledge of the book and the wisdom he acquired from his father and his teachers knew that the time of Jihad has come. The twenty-two years old youngsters with his big determination to fight the oppressors united the tribes under his leadership and established an Islamic state. Created an army, and declared war on France. Note: The Islamic state he established was on the path of Quran and Sunnah, it was for spreading peace and justice while fighting the oppressors. It was not by any means a state of spreading fear and hatred. Five years passed since the establishment of the Islamic state and the declaration of the war, France has endured great loses. The French officials came to an agreement that its the time to end the nightmare of Abdelkader, and they agreed to go into a mighty battle against him, and they agreed that this one must be the last one. 28 June 1835, General Camille Alphonse Trézel headed with his mighty army of two thousand and five hundred soldiers equipped with cannons and ammunition to the fight the army of Abdelkader. The two armies met in a place called Macta in the west of Algeria. The French troops were defeated. the loss of almost one thousand soldiers, among them the dead and the injured, declared the victory of Abdelkader.

His victory in the battle of Macta made him honoured among the tribes, and his state was recognised by France. Abdelkader became known as Emir which means the Prince. Later, he established a capital which he named Smala, it didn’t have any specific location, because it was a mobile capital, it followed him where he moves since he was always chased by the French army. Smala was capital of thirty thousand population, among them were women, children, old people and servants. Abdelkader also had his own library with him, which contained thirty thousand books. Later in 1843, France, launched an expedition under the lead of Henry d’Orleans, Duke of Aumale, against the capital while Emir Abdelkader was absent in Morocco. The expedition succeeded and the capital was destroyed.

Even after Emir Abdelkader’s loss of his capital, it seemed that France couldn’t defeat him for good. He came back from Morocco and fought France again causing great damages to the French army until France had to make a peace treaty with him, and he agreed to the treaty.

The peace treaty was soon broken because France never intended to keep Emir Abdelkader alive and free. General Thomas Robert Bugeaud implemented the Scorched-earth policy to force Emir Abdelkader to surrender, and he did. The prince was imprisoned in France and after few years he was called by Napoleon III and was honoured by him and he was asked to take France as a second home but Emir Abdelkader refused, so he was released with the condition of not going back to Algeria. Emir Abdelkader headed to Constantinople the capital of the Ottoman Islamic state and the modern day Istanbul. He was welcomed and honoured by the Ottoman Caliphate. A short time later, Emir Abdelkader asked the Caliphate to let him travel to Damascus and live there. The Caliphate gave him permission to do so and he lived there until his death in 1883.

“I will enter your mountains, I will burn your villages and your harvests, I will cut down your fruit trees.” ـــ General Bugeaud.

In Damascus the Prince was already famous, so he immediately was considered as one of the leaders of the society there. He was a political and religious leader as well as author and a poet. While Emir Abdelkader was in Damascus, civil strife broke out between the Muslims and the Christians. Mighty atrocities were committed by the Muslims in Damascus. The truth was on the side of the Christians, and Emir Abdelkader chose to be on the side of truth. He protected the Christians and fought with them, he hid many of them including political leaders, monks both men and women in his palace, but when their number got bigger - reached ten thousand and five hundred - he sent them to the city castle. By these heroic acts, he was considered as a hero for humanity, a man who stood against the oppressors whoever they were, Christians or Muslims. He became an embodiment of the verse “O you who have believed, be persistently standing firm for Allah, witnesses in justice, and do not let the enmity and hatred of a people prevent you from being just. Be just; that is nearer to righteousness. And fear Allah; indeed, Allah is acquainted with what you do”. The noble Quran (5:8).

“Saint among the Princes, the Princes among the Saints”.

Note: This is a very summarised story of Emir Abdelkader, I've written it from what I remember from primary school and middle school history lessons since I am from Algeria and the life of this great hero is in our educational curriculum. I backed up my background knowledge with researches I've done about his life and adventures and his death, but you may find more information about Emir Abdelkader if you do your own researches. However, I think this article is enough to at least give you an idea about a hero of truth that may inspire you and affect your life in a positive way. Peace!

[the-song-of-the-mockingbird]

Aidan Gillen may not have a face you instantly recognise, but he can change remarkably for each character he plays. It's better like that, he tells Kate Holmquist.

He doesn't stop moving in the hotel armchair. He pulls his black Adidas jacket up over his ears as though he's hiding. Then pulls it down and tries to sit still, but then his hands are in his hair constantly, pulling it, bending it, working it like clay, until eventually it stands straight up, like the black comb of an exotic bird.

I keep looking for characters in Aidan Gillen's malleable face: for the seductively amoral Stuart in Queer As Folk, for councilman Tommy Carcetti in The Wire, for Edward in Frank McGuinness's play, Someone to Watch Over Me or Mick in Harold Pinter's The Caretaker, for which Gillen was nominated for a Tony award after a New York Times review said he had outshone his co-actors, Kyle McLachlan and Patrick Stewart, not because they were inadequate - they were great - but because Gillen's energy was amazing.

Still dancing in his chair, Gillen leans on the marble shelf beside him, looks into the mirror and seems to watch the room behind him more than himself, with that shock of black hair sticking up like it's electrified. I'm distracted towards the mirror in an attempt to see what he's seeing and when I turn back, I realise he's been watching me watching him.

"You're a shape-shifter, aren't you? You can totally change your appearance at will," I suggest.

He smiles, settling into his chair. "Yea, I guess so." I've got his attention.

"You like that, don't you? Being described as a shape-shifter?"

"You are living through other people's stories. This is your life. Some of your most intense moments in your life are while you are pretending to be someone else. Hopefully, you have some sort of life that's your own, but it's all the same thing, really."

"Do you know who you are?" I ask him.

"I have an idea. Working as an actor . . . You are getting deep into being somebody else and that becomes a large part of your personality. Then you could be somebody else again next week," he says.

He has deliberately avoided being type-cast. "If something works you get asked to do four or five things the same. I've made an effort for the next job always to be something different."

Before Christmas, Gillen finished shooting a nightmarish thriller in Barcelona with 29-year-old director Rigoberto Casteneda, Black Out. He plays "an Alpha male doctor with a dual life", who becomes trapped in a lift with two other characters, played by Amber Tamblyn and Arnie Hammer. The film's tagline is "hope is not on the way".

GILLEN HAS MADE nearly 30 films and has appeared in dozens of theatre productions, but hasn't registered on the romantic lead radar like previous Irish heart-throbs Gabriel Byrne, Aidan Quinn and Colin Farrell. In looks, he's most like Farrell, with a bit of Stephen Rea and Richard Dreyfus thrown in, but without Farrell's charismatic public persona. Gillen is a light-switch, turning various qualities of energy on and off - sometimes within the space of a minute. And unlike Farrell, Gillen's face can be so ordinary that you'd miss him in a crowd. Now aged 38 and with 20 years of professional acting behind him, Gillen says he's aware at being just the right age to start leading in the sort of Hollywood films that could take him from highly respected working actor to mega-stardom.

He's so hard to pin down, he doesn't even identify with being an "Irish" actor. "In New York, they think I'm English, and in England they think that I'm from Ireland. If people don't have a strong sense of where you are from, it's to your advantage. I've never tried to push any kind of image. I feel at home in a situation where nobody knows who you are and what you do. I prefer not being recognisable in the street, the less people think they know about you the better. What do they want to know about you for, anyway?" he asks.

The son of an architect, who died last year, and a nurse, Gillen grew up in Drumcondra and was an altar boy in Gardiner Street church. At 14, he became involved in the National Youth Theatre but he didn't see it as a career. By Leaving Cert year, he'd fallen foul of the Christian Brothers. "A month before the Leaving Cert, a teacher sent me out of the classroom and I lay down on the roof of the building and decided it was time to move on. I liked school, but I didn't want to do any more of it," he says.

Gillen's "university" education began with a year living in London "watching the video of every film ever made". Then in 1988 he was cast in Billy Roche's Handful of Stars and met Jenny Tupper, who ran the Bush Theatre. "I lived with her for two and a half years. She was very supportive and encouraging." There was no sexual intimacy between them but Gillen says he got slagged for being her "toy boy", which he wasn't. "There was always a glass of Friexnet and a cup of quails' eggs and stimulating company of theatre people - Simon Callow, Alan Rickman, Frank McGuinness, Cathy Bourke, Lindsay Duncan. Always stuff going on. One time I was dying in bed with chicken pox, which I got at the rather old age of 21, and I woke up to find Frances Barber spoon-feeding me coconut ice-cream, which was almost like a fever dream. It was nice to have somewhere to be where I could talk to people, instead of an empty room on my own."

The actor he most admires is Donal McCann and the Irish playwright he would most like to work with is Conor McPherson - and McGuinness again, if the opportunity arose. As for Irish film-makers, he can't name one up-and-coming director he'd like to see cast him, which probably says something about the state of the Irish film industry.

GILLEN IS IN Dublin to play Teach in David Mamet's American Buffalo at the Gate. "What interests me most is the simple and straightforward plot: three small-time hustlers, hungry people, attempting to execute a rare coin heist and their efforts to keep on top as it falls apart. But behind that there's the background of the consumer capitalist society that they believe in and are existing on the margins of, and sometimes their efforts are desperate and desperately funny. They're treating each other like junkyard dogs, yet they are human. They're like a family. I think the play's got a heart even if the background is pretty black . . . Living is pretty black."

For the past three years, working on The Wire, he has fallen a little in love with the city it portrays, Baltimore - which likes to call itself "charm city" even though it's an east-coast backwater with a murder rate that's one of the highest in the US. Baltimore has been celebrated by novelist Anne Tyler and film-makers Barry Levinson and John Waters, but for the US public it is journalist David Simon who has explored the "rotten core" of this city, through drama series based on his non-fiction books that read like thrillers. Simon's first venture was Homocide: Life on the Streets, followed by The Corner and now, The Wire, which is about to film its fifth and final season.

Gillen has a real affection for The Wire, which Newsday called "the greatest dramatic series ever produced for television". He speaks passionately about the series' concerns, particularly how the education system is failing boys who have to decide whether to make something of themselves through education or join "the life" of street crime. One of the main characters is a cop turned teacher who becomes personally involved in his students' lives.

I tell him that my mother was a teacher in an all-black school in Baltimore; she kept a mattress for her eight-year-olds to sleep on and gave them money to buy lunch, since they stayed up all night with mothers on drugs and needed sleep and food more than education. He's fascinated to hear that people were trying to save these kids 40 years ago, but says: "I think there's a feeling that things are turning round in Baltimore."

Once we make the Baltimore connection, Gillen becomes himself and starts naming places he's become attached to as he kills time during breaks in filming: the Charles Cinema, which plays every arthouse film on the planet, and the Charles Club, a louche bar recently redesigned by the same designer who has worked on Barry Levinson's films. I tell him I got my European cinema education, for what it's worth, in the Charles Cinema and ask him if he's been to the Block, a porn district so risque in a 1950s kind of way that it's like a time warp. He instantly responds: "The Block. And it's right there in the middle of everything, by city hall!"

Blaze Starr, a stripper whose spinning neon pasties are one of my enduring childhood memories, was practically patron saint of the city when I was growing up there. He's fascinated by this bit of Baltimore porn history. Then we exchange John Waters anecdotes and he tells me that, in Fell's Point, the nutty little shop where Divine held court still exists. The Poles still take pride in their blonde beehives and now call themselves "Huns", he says. "When I get back to Baltimore, I kind of feel, you know, 'home'."

The cast and crew of The Wire can be "a bit cliquish" and Gillen likes his own company, though every weekend he can he flies back to London to see his two young children. As we say goodbye on the street, he vows that he will get a mention of Blaze Starr into The Wire. I watch him pull the collar of his chunky sheepskin suede jacket up around his ears, pat down his hair to make himself innocuous, and disappear into a city where only his old friends recognise him.

American Buffalo previews at the Gate Theatre from Feb 8 and opens Feb 13

Role model

Recent theatre creditsinclude Someone Who'll Watch Over Me by Frank McGuinness, New Ambassadors Theatre, London; The Caretaker by Harold Pinter, Roundabout Theatre Company, New York, for which he received a Tony Nomination; David Hare's adaptation of Anton Chekhov's Platonov, Almeida Theatre, London; Shakespeare's The Tempest and JM Synge's Playboy of the Western World, also at the Almeida; Mojo by Jez Butterworth, Royal Court Theatre, London; Marvin's Room by Scott McPherson, Hampstead Theatre, London; The Water Engine by David Mamet, Hampstead Theatre, London; Billy Roche's Belfry and Handful of Stars, Bush Theatre, London.

Film and television creditsinclude Rigoberto Castaneda's film Blackout; seasons three and four of The Wire; Law and Order; Shanghai Knights; Dice; The Final Curtain; My Kingdom; Queer as Folk, for which he received a BAFTA nomination; The Low Down, for which he was voted Best Newcomer at the 2000 Edinburgh film festival; Buddy Boy; Some Mother's Son; Circle of Friends; Mojo; Killing Time; and Safe.