#well i can believe it this was the 1910s when we were finding out about the harmful microbe-carrying potential of the housefly

[houseflyy]

i guess i should have expected a book called "THE HOUSE FLY, A SLAYER OF MEN" to have a very biased perspective on houseflies and be very hateful toward them but this is crazy. this is what a general says to rally his army before they head out into a battle. but actually they're saying this about a fly

[thechanelmuse]

How genealogy is used to track Black family histories

Our names are important to us. They tell us who we are and often, who we come from. So imagine suddenly discovering the last name you’ve always carried… might not actually be the name you should have. 

Alex Neason began looking into her family’s history after discovering her great grandfather’s name was different from what she believed for her whole life. In her search to discover the story of that last name, she enlisted genealogist Nicka Sewell-Smith.

For Black Americans, genealogy can fill in the blanks left by the legacy of slavery and racism in the U.S. Services like the Freedmen’s Bureau and Slave Voyages provide free access to records and documents to help with that search. We talk about the power of genealogy in fostering knowledge and connection for Black Americans.

Source

If you click on the word “source,” it’ll take you to the article where you’ll see a LISTEN button. It’s a 30-minute audio that discusses the info provided in the article even further. Y’all know I’m big on getting people to trace their lineage. All that “we don’t know where we come from.” Who told you that? Everything in the US is in plain sight. Everything.

Discover your fam. 

I assist others when they reach a roadblock, like getting past the “1870 wall.” But you can’t beat the feeling of you discovering them on your own. Unearthing your history, seeing photos, reading stories that were stored, and saying their names that haven’t been said for centuries. I’ve been tracing mine (scanning, logging) since my family reunion in 2005 through oral family history and obituaries (those are records), and since 2011 through databases of US archived records like ancestry.com (purchased by BlackStone) and familysearch.org (free database owned by the Latter-day Saints Church). There are others, but those are the main two I use for comparative results.  

Archiving Centers, Census Records & Other Records

There are archiving centers in every state and DC that also keep records for those particular states and the federal capital. There’s a footnote on all records that tells you where they are housed. And please...Don’t just do a simple pedigree chart of your family tree. Get to know your great-aunts, great-uncles and cousins. It’s also helpful for seeing who lived around who (fam often lived next door to each other) and puts more of the pieces together of your complete family story. You can see the land and acres they owned or your fam today still owns, as well as if that land was stolen from them.

US census records go back to year 1790. Depending on when or if your ancestors were enslaved or free: you’ll find them attached to slave logs that have been made available online or kept in archiving centers (you go there), or or they’ll be listed on census records as free persons (1790-1710), free colored male/female (1820-1840), Black (1850-1920), Mulatto (1850-1890, 1910-1920) or Negro (1900, 1930-1950). “New” census documents are put on sites, like ancestry.com, every 10 years. As of 2023, you can only trace from 1950 to 1790. The 1960 census will be out in 2030. How to trace from 1950 to today, birth, death and residential records. So again, depending on the census year, you’ll notice your ancestors racial classification change throughout documents for obvious reasons. 

Keep in mind that the the largest slave trade for the United States was the domestic slave trade. In house human trafficking and selling (in addition to property insurance of enslaved people and the selling of enslaved people as the building block of Wall Street’s stock exchange) is how US capitalism was built. So just because you know a lot of your people are from Tennessee, for example, it doesn't mean that’s where that line stayed. I’ve found my ancestors throughout 7 states (so far). Another example, people with Louisiana roots damn near always have ancestors who were trafficked from early Virginia. Going beyond year 1790, records were kept in Christian and Catholic churches and old family history books so most of those documents are scanned online and/or still kept in the churches. I’m talking books books. 

If your ancestors walked the Trail of Tears, or were caught as prisoners of war or trafficked to Indian Nations to be enslaved, you’ll find an Oklahoma Indian Territory and Oklahoma Freedmen Rolls section on ancestry.com. You can discover more info on sites, like the Oklahoma Historical Society. (Every state has its own historical society for archived genealogical records.) 

Here’s the National Archives.

Also for Oklahoma, you may also find your ancestors in Indian Census Rolls (1855-1940) as [insert tribe] Freedmen, depending if they weren’t rejected through the “blood quantum” Dawes Rolls for not being the new light to white status. You’ll see their application and the listed questions & answers with or without a big void stamp. And on the census, you’ll even see the letter I (pronounced like eye) changed to the letter B. This is also for those in Louisiana.

Freedmen’s Bureau & Bank Records 

There were Freedmen’s Bureau records and Freedman’s Savings Bank records in other states. To see if your ancestors had their records in those systems, you can search by their name. The state and age will pop up with people having that name. It’ll give you a wealth of other info, like all of the kids and other fam if they were present or mentioned to the person who logged that info in. With the Freedmen Bank records, you can see how much money your ancestors put in there (that was later stolen from them by way of the United States government), which is still there today. It’s the biggest bank heist in US history (that they try to keep hush hush) with the equivalence of more than $80 million in today’s value stored in there today. Back then, it was valued almost close to $4 million. Stolen wealth met with bootstrap lectures. 

Here’s a short video on that heist:

Today the bank is called the Freedman's Bank Building, located right on Pennsylvania Ave. Plain sight. 

Trace your lineage. 

There’s a lot more that I can list. But this is just the basics. Like I said before, it’s a more rewarding feeling when you discover your ancestors by yourself. You may reach roadblocks. Take a break. Try going the “Card Catalog” route on ancestry.com’s search engine. Don’t skip the small details. 

SN: Slave Voyages isn’t a genealogical site, but rather a database for slave ship logs and the estimates of purchased Africans who became human cargo to be enslaved by country like USA, or by colonizers like Spain, Great Britain, etc.

[philaet0s]

Fanfic Year in Review

I saw someone do this and thought it would be fun lol

My fics from 2022

The Incident (2k)

It Was Consensual! (1k)

Bloodsucker (16k)

Toothache (5k)

A Perfect Disaster (4k)

Falling in Love in the Cruellest Way (182k)

Teacher's Pet (7k)

When the Feeling Sinks In (237k)

Thirteen Days to Fall in Love With Your Worst Enemy (147k)

Inadequate (9k)

To Live for the Hope of It All (8k)

Snow White and Cinderella (8k)

You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend (‘Tis the Damn Season) (22k)

Live and Die For Moments That We Stole (235k, WIP)

Best/worst title?

Best: To Live for the Hope of It All, no explanation needed, it's Taylor Swift, it can only be good

Worst: Snow White and Cinderella; it's TERRIBLE but I didn't know what to title this story and wanted to post it so...

Best/worst summary?

All my summaries should be worst summary, I'm awful at them

Best/worst first line?

Best: "Wanna know one thing that doesn’t feel good? Getting a text from your ex that you’re still in love with after a shit day at work."

it just opens the story so well

Worst: "My phone lights up with a notification from Dev"

boring

Best/worst last line?

Best: "I’m not fucking teething, Snow!"

I just find this one hilarious

Worst: "That's what I do"

It's meh compared to the other ones

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

More actually, when I was scrolling through AO3 for this, I was surprised by how many fics there were lol

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

Nothing really? the only thing that made me step out of my comfort is my historical fic, but I have been planjing it for a while so I can't say I would never have predicted it

What’s your favourite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Probably the long distance fics they were SO fun to write

texting fics <3

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

Probably the long distance fics as well

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

Live and Die I am BEGGING more people to read it I've been so excited for it for so long and it's a gigantic flop compared to other stories of mine even though it's the one that has required the most work lmao

Story that could’ve been better?

A lot of them tbh

Saddest story?

Live and Die, 100%, that thing is going to be heartbreaking I can't wait (it's already angsty... but it's going to be MORE angsty lol)

Most fun?

The Incident. Can't believe I wrote an entire fic with the premise of 'Simon chokes Baz with his tail'. It's brilliant. I love it

Story with the single sweetest moment?

I couldn't say I don't remember everything that happens in all my stories but the sweetest overall is A Perfect Disaster

Hardest story to write?

LIVE AND DIE, GOD THIS STORY WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME (I'm obsessed with it and it is my baby)

Easiest/most fun story to write?

THE LONG DISTANCE FICS <333333 especially the first part as it had a lot more texting and texting is the single best thing to write

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

No? I write the characters pretty much always the same way so

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I guess writing a fic set in the fucking 1910s is a risk. It's awful. Bring me back to writing things I could write without doing research every five minutes

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

Finishing this fucking WW1 fic. I love it but I really want to see it end, just to see the absolutely insane word count that it'll have lol

[existandpersist]

Good evening, all! As promised, it’s time to impose my consciousness on others. 

First of all, I would like to open by presenting a quote from book One.

This account is significant for three reasons. It tells us that

Reynie has most likely read The Art of War

Mr. Curtain has most likely not read The Art of War

Book One very likely takes place before the year 2001

The first two arent overly significant, but personally I find them extremely funny. But as for the third point, let me explain.

In 2001, The Soprano’s made a reference to The Art of War, and the book became popular and more mainstream as more people started to read it. Before this, people didn’t really know it the way they do today, and it’s doubtful you’d find regular people quoting it to each other. This could explain Curtain’s unfamiliarity with the phrase, since as we know, he doesn’t read much (both in the books as well as the series. His office is described as being pretty barren, and he never leaves the island because he’s so busy so he doesn’t make library runs or anything. Though he probably used to read more).

At first I argued against myself by saying that he might’ve just been giving Reynie an opening to see how he would respond to his grievances about Constance (and as we know he was sort of gauging Reynie during that entire conversation) but I also kept thinking that admitting he didn’t know something isn’t something Curtain would do. It’s not really in his character for him to make it known that someone, let alone a child, had given him new information or told him someone he didn’t already know. I think he’s too proud for that.

So assuming he really hadn’t heard the expression before, we know that book one takes place at least later than 1910 (when the first copy was translated into English) and earlier than 2001 (when the book became popular and therefore more frequently quoted) based on this conversation alone.

So actually this has been a pretty helpful rabbit hole! 2001 as a max limit is slightly more information than I was working with before. 1983 is my current working Absolute Earliest point (the year cell phones and computers first became available for use by the public) but I’m leaning more towards the early ‘90s because lets be real, they were pretty inconvenient to use when they first came out lol. Nicholas wouldn’t have been so worried about signals from the Whisperer piggybacking off of cell phones if most people didn’t use them. He also lumped cell phones in with radios and televisions, which were both established to be widely available in the books, so that leads me to believe cell phones were in a similar position by this point.

One day I will find a series I can be normal about but luckily today is not that day! I would be delighted to hear anyone else’s thoughts about this.

[yemilnisu]

INCORRECT HAIKYUU QUOTES FROM BUZZFEED UNSOLVED

nisu entries:

i got this idea from @memekingofwwiii and some of it are theirs 🙇🏻‍♀️ thank you for letting me add it here 😊 it’s a mixture from buzzfeed unsolved supernatural and true crime 👀 i really had fun doing this!

warning: swearing, mentions of death/murder/killing/blood/weed

「part 2」

Tendou: i did have a neighbor who had an overhang of a lime tree, and it was great because i could go pick a little lime.

Ushijima: did you ever think about killing your neighbor?

Tendou: when he didn't give me limes, yeah.

Ushijima: oh, okay; all right.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Matsukawa: this is my bridge now, if you want it back you’re gonna have to kill me.

Oikawa: he did throw someone off the bridge once.

Matsukawa: fuck you, goatman!

Oikawa: Jesus Christ.

Kunimi: *behind the camera snickering as mattsun taunts the goatman much to oikawa’s dismay*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Matsukawa: hey demons, it’s me, ya boi.

Matsukawa: if you want to eat my heart, turn that light on. If you want to eat oikawa’s heart, turn that light on...

Oikawa: don’t drag me into your shit, mattsun.

*torch turns on*

Oikawa: *screams*

Matsukawa: *laughs hysterically as he continues to lie on the pentagram*

Kunimi: *actual wheezing*

Matsukawa: i think this demon’s a wimp.

Oikawa: he’s out of his fucking mind.

Kunimi: *having the time of his life*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Oikawa: every human's capable of murder if you push them enough. i just don't know if this is enough of a push.

Iwaizumi: okay.

Oikawa: it's true!

Iwaizumi: is that so?

Oikawa: yeah.

Oikawa: i bet you you would murder me if I pushed you enough.

Iwaizumi: yeah, probably.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tsukishima: …

Tsukishima: so, you're telling me, at nine years old, you don’t go to church. the first time you cross the threshold into holy ground,

Nishinoya: *makes noise and imitates blood coming out of his nose*

Tsukishima: blood expels from your nostrils?

Nishinoya: yeah, yeah. they ran outta tissues! mopping that up.

Tsukishima: …

Nishinoya: it was wild!

Tsukishima: it sounds wild.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kuroo: i think it was the neighbor. look, i’m a simple man. i see a trail of blood going to someone's house. even if they didn't do it, come on; you're going to jail.

Kenma: i think it might've been a random person.

Kuroo: all right.

Kenma: it just seems too obvious.

Kuroo: okay.

Kenma: there's a paper trail of their feud. why the hell would he be that dumb?

Kuroo: rage, you know? lust, rage. rage just- just building up, bursting out.

Kenma: well, i've never really gotten that angry. i don't really have that capacity.

Kuroo: it's building. it's building inside you. everyone sees it; we all see it.

Kenma: that's great. oh man, i can't wait for krakatoa then.

Kuroo: *shuddering* oh- oh- i shudder.

Kenma: hope no one's in the way 😺

Kuroo: …

Kuroo: scary.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Daichi: he allegedly chased his mother with an axe when he was 19.

Asahi: not great.

Daichi: (wheeze) no? not off- off to a bad start?

Asahi: no good. i’ve never done that. you didn’t do that did you?

Daichi: no! i didn't- what- is there anything to suggest that I would chase my mom with an axe?

Asahi: (inhales) not outright i feel like if you peel the layers back.

Daichi: you think if you peel the layers back from this onion, you'll see something you don’t want to see?

Asahi: yeah. i think you wear a mask sometimes 😅

Daichi: mm-hmm i think you should keep digging and maybe see what happens 🙂

Asahi: uh no i'm good 🧍🏻‍♂️

Daichi: *staring at asahi*

Asahi: 👁👄👁💧

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Osamu: my takeaway is people from chicago are weird.

Atsumu: the- this does not represent chicago. this is people and go "ey! chicago tylenol murders"

Osamu: (laugh) home with the beam, the cubs and the chicago tylenol murders and of course our nation's greatest tragedy, miya atsumu.

Atsumu: that- that's not me.

Osamu: i read it somewhere 🤷���

Atsumu: no, you didn’t, you probably wrote it.

Osamu: yeah.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Suna: i’d love to be an heiress.

Kita: (snickers)

Suna: i know she’s probably gonna disappear or something.

Kita: so you wanna be a trust fund baby?

Suna: i’d like someone to give me a lot of money for doing nothing. but i want-

Kita: and then you wanna disappear?

Suna: yes. i want to get a lot of money and then vanish from the face of the earth.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Ennoshita: her family believed that when she left at 11:30 am, she had as much as $30 in her purse, which in today’s dollars would be more than $750.

Nishinoya: holy moly!

Tanaka: that’s a lot of quiche—

Nishinoya: yeah.

Tanaka: that’s a lot of quiche.

Nishinoya: thirty bucks going that far in 1910.

Tanaka: i don’t even have $750 in my bank account.

Nishinoya: i’ve never had $750 in my pocket! i rarely have had $30 in my pocket.

Ennoshita: well i don’t really carry cash anymore-

Nishinoya & Tanaka: who does!?

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Yaku: stop number one, mothman statue.

Lev: it looks very ornate.

Yaku: *shocked that lev knows that word*

Yaku: you’ll be able to stare at it eye to eye.

Lev: what’s that supposed to mean?

Yaku: it means you’re eight feet tall, it’s a tall joke. get it?

Lev: 🧍🏼

Yaku: 🤦🏼‍♂️

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Akaashi: any... any thought in that so far?

Bokuto: (fart sound) nope. what year is it, ‘66?

Akaashi: ‘66.

Bokuto: few teens out there probably smoking a few funny cigarettes.

Akaashi: you could say weed. it’s 2018.

Bokuto: ...some grass.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kageyama: so my guess is the couples were somewhere around here, maybe on that road over there.

Hinata: yeah.

Kageyama: and i'm not sure of the exact location but this is where they saw him stumbling around.

Hinata: they just… saw him kinda shambling?

Kageyama: yeah.

Hinata: big shambling man. kinda *shuffling his body*

Kageyama: i- i don’t know, maybe he was just taking a walk, i mean, what's it to you?

Hinata: why would you take a walk if you had wings?

Kageyama: he's a fucking creature, he can do what he wants.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kuroo: but all im saying is that what you need to gather from this is that he has an effect on people's psyche.

Lev: this mothman's a complicated character.

Kuroo: what does he sound like? what does he sound like?

Lev: he sound like the blood bird.

Kuroo: …

Lev: flappy spookster.

Kuroo: …

Kuroo: that's- come on.

Kuroo: *glances over to lev's notes*

Lev: the winged wretch. did i already say that?

Kuroo: this just says fright terror.

Kuroo: *throws away the notes*

Lev: you know, just call him batman, why is that hard? 😩

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

(howling)

Goshiki: what the fuck.

Shirabu: well those are coyotes… or dogs. Or a large pack of something.

Goshiki: holy shit.

Shirabu: just some coyotes.

Goshiki: are you not fucking alarmed right now?

Shirabu: are you scared? (laugh)

Goshiki: dude wait- this goes beyond belief, that was a pack of, whatever the fuck that was.

Shirabu: it was coyotes!

Goshiki: is that our cue to leave? i think maybe. we've been out here for quite a bit.

Shirabu: yeah, i don’t know if were gonna find anything tonight.

Goshiki: i don’t wanna be in the mouth of some coyote later, that's not how i want the picture wrap on old tsutomu to be.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Atsumu: air force one? they filmed air force one here?

Atsumu: air force one actually, now that i think of it, remember the reason they hijacked the plane is to release for the-

Sakusa: i’m gonna go ahead and cut you off right there 'cause i don’t give a shit.

Sakusa: we’re gonna move over here.

Atsumu: …okay.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kai: four people in a cell, that's a lot

Kuroo: i mean, you put any normal people in a room that's too small. like if you’re in a dorm in college, if you hate your roommate…

Kai: it's tough business

Kuroo: listening to music too loud when i'm trying to study

Kai: hwfrrrrr…

Kuroo: cookin' uhh… top ramen in the microwave when i'm trying to sleep

Kai: you got some axes to grind?

Kuroo: no.

Kai: oh

Kuroo: fuck you, daishou.

Kai: daishou?

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

(distant thud)

Yamamoto: what the fuck?

Kenma: :3

Yamamoto: is all i have to say to that.

Kenma: they didn’t like the thumb talk.

Yamamoto: you didn't like the thumb talk? was it too much thumb talk? i thought we went about two minutes long on the-

(distant thud)

Kenma: they don’t like the thumb talk.

Yamamoto: *looking around in shock*

Kenma: *stopping himself from laughing*

Yamamoto: uhhhh… holy fuck. holy fuck, holy fuck. if you’re one of the people that had that thumb thing to happen to you, that sucks. what was it like?

Kenma: what do you think you're gonna get right now? 😑

Yamamoto: i feel like we should go see what that is, to be honest.

Kenma: *shakes his head*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tsukishima: we’re walking over to the source of the disturbance.

Hinata: hello? (sigh) i’m gonna lose my mind. so, it did that twice within the span of 10 seconds but nothing else?

Tsukishima: but, we can confirm that it did sound like this right? *slams the cabinet door*

Hinata: yeah.

Tsukishima: that was the sound.

Hinata: do you think the wind’s gonna do that twice?

Tsukishima: *blows on the cabinet door*

Tsukishima: not moving 🙄

Hinata: well, shit.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Sugawara: oh there it is. it’s that. *pointing to where the sound was coming from*

Asahi: what?

Sugawara: there’s a logical explanation for you.

Asahi: ah! okay, there it is. well, there you go, there you go.

Sugawara: but, if we hadn’t seen that...

Asahi: if we hadn’t seen that we would be fooled 😅

Sugawara: no, we wouldn’t have been fooled. you would have been telling me for months.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

*inside the prisoners of ohio state penitentiary*

Kageyama: this is fucking terrible.

Tsukishima: it’s the opportunity of a lifetime to be here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tendou: i’m separating from the group.

Semi: it’s the ideal time to kill him.

Tendou: yeah i mean, if i were gonna die in camera it would be a pretty noble thing.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Osamu: I don’t understand what’s wrong with atsumu sometimes.

Atsumu: what was that?

Osamu: i didn’t say anything.

Atsumu: you sure you didn’t say anything, ‘samu?

Osamu: now go back and set ‘em off to make sure they work.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Sakusa: *inhales*

Atsumu: *inhales*

Sakusa: you need to back up from me. i can feel your air intake. it’s like a gross nasal jet, i don’t know.

Atsumu: *takes a step towards sakusa*

Sakusa: uh no *takes a step backwards*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Futakuchi: latch yourself onto my soul, come back to hollywood with me, and destroy the lives of all my friends and coworkers.

Koganegawa: a little hard to follow, but i like where you’re going.

Futakuchi: kogane’s family has a little-

Koganegawa: ey! ey! do-! do-! don’t!

Futakuchi: -dog named mickey.

Koganegawa:*trying to stop futakuchi*

Futakuchi: real good. you wanted me to give it my all. i’m throwing stuff on the table.

Koganegawa: insults, not personal information. you’re giving him a dossier on my life!

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[dont-justdont]

im writing this as i rewatch the episode again with much more attention and i give yall all the little details to look for (in chronological order, im literally pausing the episode as i go to write this down)

- on lestats first appearance, he holds a blue book (from what i read basically a register of all the prostitutes in the district)

- when paul arrives he tells louis the birds told him to come "but also one voice" and then louis cuts him off, i believe that voice is lestat (he appears on screan a few seconds later

- the mayfair reference at the diner table during breakfast

- he refers to his homosexuality before we even see lestat (when he arrives after going to church with his brother)

- the sazerac (the drink louis orders) is a classic new orleans' cocktail and is said to embody it's richness very well, started getting popular in the 1800's and then some more in the beginning of the 1900's

- the whole "your name is louis, of course it's louis" because lestat is french (although there might be something deeper than that but idk, im thinking it's because it's the name of the king from the time lestat was around in france (louis xvi) but it seems far-fetched, any thoughts?)

- when he talks about settling there, he looks at miss lily and goes "but there's the food" aka im a vampire (not very hard to tell but i thought id add it to the list) also can we appreciate louis' face during that interaction he seems so done

- lestat wanted to go to st louis at first (maybe thats way the whole name thing) which was one of the most developed cities in america at that time

- i cannot find the name of the song that the man is singing (the one who puts out the lights) and its driving me crazy. if anyone wants to search, it goes something like (on parlait raymond, raymond... aller simon, simon... lui parlait titi, titi... tomber dans le chagrin... elle lui parlait titi, titi... elle est tombée dans le chagrin... and i cant for the life of me comprehend what he says during the last line sorry) im not 100% sure about those because of the english accent (french is my first language) but yeah if you find it please tell me im dying to know

- at the poker table they mention the murders take place near decatur, which is a street where there was a shooting (in 1910). from what i read the whole thing was discriminatory and there was like a strong anti-immigrant sentiment and everything

- the black star line (the company on the tickets louis gives his sister) is a black led company that was made to encourage black people to participate in the economy as they were often left out (from what im reading it was mostly a shipping company so im confused about that one but yeah), apparently it started in 1919 so im also confused about that

- the sister's husband is levi freniere, referencing the freniere family in the book (babette's family)

- lestat's past being referenced at diner (although that's not really a detail)

- THE SAVAGE GARDEN REFERENCE

- the song he composed for nicolas:( "infinite beauty and sensitivity" yes yes yes yes yes

- SOMEONE TELL ME WHY LOUIS LEGS ARE CLEAN SHAVED IN DYING OVER HERE

- when tap dancing louis and paul set the rhythm before the musicians play (which is normal i guess but a nice touch)

- before louis and paul watch the sunset, we see two glasses : one full and standing, one on the side that seems shattered (foreshadowing hehe)

- louis didnt grow up in the house he lives in, they moved in when he was 7 (i just did a little math on the number of days they had been in the house), im wondering where he grew up

- im so so glad paul didnt die after an argument and instead sort of made peace with louis (although it took me by surprise since i was expecting a fight)

- "lily was a poor substitute" aka he killed her

- not a detail but can we talk about jacob anderson's acting in little confession box thingy (i dont know the term) because DAMN that man is talented

- "i give death to those deserving" aka lestat being lestat and only killing the bad people (although i dont believe lily deserved it)

- lestat's pupils stop being dilated when he gives his little speech to louis meaning he doesnt talk like that out of hunger/arousal but out of desperation/love

- louis' complexion goes grayish when he's drained of blood but it comes back

- lestat is missing a nail when he's down on the floor with his hand on his stomach (that's not important for the plot i just found it funny)

- THE BLOOD TEAR

okay now that was a terribly long post and im sorry about it, i just enjoy seeing all the work put into this show and thought id share the little things i notice, i hope yall are doing well byyye

[gingerswagfreckles]

Queer is my fave word, thanks for posting about that book, I'm gonna try to get a copy! It's just awesome to have an umbrella term for not feeling cis-hetero but not entirely certain where you fit under the umbrella yet.

Ahh yes!! You mean Gay New York by George Chauncey? That book is THE book on queer history in the US (it's really not just about NYC, but it is focused there). Not only is it the most meticulously well researched book I have EVER read, it is just. So brilliant in how it analyses the construction of and intersection of gender, sexuality, biological sex, class, race, and society. Like I read it for a class in freshman year of college and trust me I was already EXTREMELY liberal and well versed in queer discourse. Yet it completely I mean COMPLETELY changed my understanding of not only sex and gender but just like. What identity is, how much of what we see as static and natural are actually very contextual social constructs. And it really showed in a very concrete and reality based way how every identity exists and is defined through the context of its environment, and that while our experiences are very inherently real, the lines we draw around these experiences to define them are not. Like. The existence of a queer identity the way we generally think of it now did NOT exist in the same way throughout history. The intersection of so many facets of life have been interpreted so completely differently throughout history and in different places and social contexts. The queer community has never been some static and well defined club that one is or is not a member of. It is and always has been a nebulous and highly changeable social network of people with common experiences and interests who have defined their own communities in wildly different ways depending on where you look. Trying to strictly define who does or does not belong in or who has or hasn't existed in the queer community throughout history is completely pointless, because in reality we are talking about an absolutely enormous group of people who have been variously connected to and socially isolated from others, who have seen their own identities and their own communities in completely different ways.

It really highlighted for me how pointless 99% of the discourse on this website is, and how much almost all of it boils down to a fundamental misunderstanding of what identity is. NONE of the identities we think of as inherently real are inherently real, and arguing about who should be included in a community or who's identities are "valid" just shows that you think the framework through which you understand sex and gender is universal rather than cultural, contextual, and highly individual. Like, identities overlap! Identities step on each others toes!!! Words and labels change, and people do not universally agree on what they mean at any point in time!!! You would not believe how many people who you would think of as being part of the queer community didn't think of themselves as part of the queer community, and you would not believe how many people who you do NOT think of as part of the queer community DID see themselves as part of it, and were accepted!!

Like, for example, the interpretation of what it even meant to be "homosexual" was SO different depending on what period on time you look at, what location, what social and financial class these people were part of, what racial identity they saw themselves as (and that's a whole 'nother can of worms!) Sexuality was often seen as MUCH more connected to gender performance and sexual roles one took than it is today, and a lot, I mean a LOT of men who always topped did not see themselves as homosexual/gay/part of the queer community at all, especially in working class communities. And!! Guess what!! This is the part that will really blow your mind!!!

T H E Y W E R E N ' T W R O N G!!!!!!!!!!!

They were not WRONG about how they defined their identities or how they saw themselves in relation to a certain social community!! Because they were using their OWN social and sexual framework to interpret their identities and their actions!!! And saying they were WRONG in their interpretation fundamentally misunderstands that the criteria YOU use to measure whether someone is part of an identity or social group is not any more correct or real than the criteria THEY used! Saying these people were "wrong" is to impose one's own modern and highly contextual social framework on people from the past-- and TBH it's fine to see people from the past through modern lenses, and to recognize that they would be seen as gay/a certain identity by modern standards. That's fine! But the way they saw themselves then wasn't wrong, it was just different, and your criteria for what you see as gay or straight or part of a community is just as arbitrary and based on the context of your environment as theirs was.

People like to argue with this all the time, saying things like that these individuals were just suffering from internalized homophobia, gender bias, ignorance of what this or that identity "really" means, and these people are really really really misunderstanding the point. These are usually the same people who say things like "words mean things!!" when points like the one I'm making are brought up, because they continue to misunderstand how much these words yes, mean things, but mean things within historical and cultural contexts that are NOT shared by the entire world. Like, ok, you may say our example man from the 1910s is gay whether he recognized that or not, because he engaged in homosexual acts. But what does it mean to have homosexual sex? To have sex with someone of the same biological sex? Well what is biological sex, and how do we define what makes ones biological sex the "same" or "different" from your own? Is it someone with the same type of genitals as you? That's not a universally shared opinion, and the way you define the "types" of genitals are not universally shared either. What if I told you that there have been cultures throughout history who have categorized biological sex through the length of the penis, with people with shorter penises being seen as a separate sex than those who have longer penises? So two people with penises could have sex with each other and not be understood as having sex with someone of the same sex, in that culture!

Oh, that's not what you meant? That's wrong? Why? Why? Because your personal understanding and your culture's general perception of what biological sex is is more valid and real than that culture's? Why? WHY? Could you really explain why, or is it just that the difference is making you uncomfortable, because it threatens your perception of a LOT of the ideas you see as inherently real?

And we could do the same thing with the ACT of sex! I mean, what is sex? What physical acts are sexual, and what aren't? Is it just someone putting a body part inside of another person's body in some way? Well what about handjobs and other kinds of outercourse? Is sex then some physical thing we do in pursuit of an orgasm? What if you don't orgasm? Is it not sex then? Is sex the use of our bodies to derive general physical pleasure? Well what about a massage? Is a massage sex? In some times and places, many people would have said yes!

These aren't just theoretical questions- Chauncey outlines how these differing definitions of what sex is and what makes it queer not only allowed for a lot of people we would unquestioningly think of as part of the queer community to exclude themselves, but also resulted in the inclusion of people we would never consider to be queer now. Like, most female prostitutes who served only male cliental absolutely hands down refused to give blow jobs in the early 1900s, because blowjobs were seen as an extremely deviant expression of sexuality and were understood to be part of "homosexual" activity, regardless of the sex or genders of the people involved, because it was sexual activity that explicitly was not seeking to create a baby. This was a widely understood concept at the time, and persisted despite the fact that many of these women were using contraception and therefore obviously not seeking to get pregnant. Blowjobs were still seen as perverse and "homosexual," and thus not something most regular female prostitutes were willing to engage in.

Therefore! Female prostitutes who only ever had sex with male cliental but DID provide oral sex (and many other not-penis-in-vagina-activities) were often lumped in with lesbians!!! And treated as such in arrest records and propaganda! And guess what?? As a result, guess who these women usually hung around with, and where they usually could be found? Within the queer community and queer spaces!! These women were seen by the broader society as well as by much of the queer community as QUEER, and many of them likely understood themselves this way as well!

And for the record, these questions of what sex is and what gender is and what makes it gay or straight or whatever are not questions that belong strictly to the past. Survey the general population about what act they consider to have been the one where they "lost their virginity," and you will get wildly different answers. Survey self identified gay or straight people on what kind of sex acts they engage with and with who, and you will similarly find an enormous variation in reports.

And these questions MATTER! These questions matter, not in that we have to find some way to answer them, but in order to understand that we can't, definitively, and that thinking our own perceptions of any of these things are more valid than others' perceptions is incredibly harmful and dismissive to the lived experiences of other people. You can't define other people's identities out of existence just because they threaten or overlap or contradict with your own understanding of some concept, because your definitions of literally any of the criteria you are using to try to build your boxes are ALSO up for interpretation!

Like, I'm sorry I know I am rambling soooo much but you opened the same floodgates that this book opened back when I read it. If the people on this stupid website had any understanding of the history they claim to know so much about, they would see how their attitudes of "this identity is more valid than that identity" and "you can't sit with us because you're not actually part of this or that identity because my definition is better than your definition" is nothing new or woke or progressive, but is the exact same shit that has always been done and has been used to marginalize people who's existence or behaviors threaten the status quo. Like yelling at asexual or pansexual or nonbinary or aromantic people or whatever other group that they don't belong, or that their identity isn't real because it threatens the perceived integrity of another identity...it's all so stupid!! Your identity is also just a way for you to define yourself within your cultural context! Like I've literally seen people be like "asexality isn't a real identity bc if we didn't live in a society that was so sex obsessed then you wouldn't feel the need to define yourself this way." And it's like....what?? Yeah, ok??? But we do live in this society???????? And you can say that about LITERALLY ANY identity??! Not even ones related to sex and gender! Like "you aren't really deaf and deafness isn't real, because if we lived in a world without sound then you wouldn't notice you couldn't hear." Like yeah?? But we do live in a world with sound?? So...people find this term useful to articulate their experiences? And they might even dare to form an identity around it, and maybe a community, and might even become proud of it, even though it is a social construct, just like pretty much everything else??

It just drives me nuts. We go around and around in circles without ever understanding that so much of the bigotry we face is the same thing we are perpetuating with each other, because we don't understand that it is natural and normal for people's definitions of certain identities to conflict, and for their interpretations of the world to run up against each other sometimes. And that there is no strictly defined queer community, and who does or doesn't "belong" is not a decision that any one person or even any one culture gets to make, ever.

To try to finally actually wrap back around to what your actual comment was to begin with, I think queer is a wonderful word, and that GENERALLY SPEAKING in our current cultural context, it is used to encapsulate so much of the messiness and overlap that makes people so uncomfortable, but is what makes the queer community so great!!!!! That being said, it of course has had different definitions in different time periods and cultural contexts just like everything else, and some people may still have negative connotations associated with it and therefore not feel comfortable using it to self-identify. And that's fine too, as long as you don't try to force other people to stop using the term to describe their own identities on the basis that your definition is more real than theirs, which is the opposite of what queer history is all about.

If anyone is interested in the book I am talking about, you can buy it as an ebook, audiobook, or paper copy here: https://www.basicbooks.com/titles/george-chauncey/gay-new-york/9780786723355/

It goes into way way way more depth about everything I'm rambling about here, and backs it up with the most research and evidence I've ever seen in one single book. The physical copy is about as thick as two bricks stacked on top of each other, so if you can't get an exclusionist to read it, you can always just whack them over the head.

[by-nina]

A Cordial Invitation

AO3 | FFN Royai Week 2021 | Day 4 – Communiqué Rating: K+ (light drinking) Genre: Comedy/Fluff Word Count: 2,840

A/N: This fic takes place when Roy and Hughes are both still stationed in East City, before Hughes is transferred to Central—or in an AU where that happens, if that wasn't the case in canon. Brain empty, no thoughts but Royai. Screw canon. What's important is that Hughes is here. 😂

There is the briefest pause as Hughes leaps back, startled by the outburst, then he laughs again upon seeing the look on Roy's face. Roy can only shake his head in horror—what the hell does the man find so funny? Well, he might have laughed at this little comedy of errors himself if the situation weren't so ridiculously flustering for him. Instead, he is left to imagine it in sheer panic. R. Mustang. Riza Mustang.

His face is burning red.

———

MAES HUGHES, son of Thomas and Evangeline Hughes,

and

GRACIA EVANS, daughter of Rupert and Georgina Evans,

are delighted to announce their blessed and loving union come Saturday, the 25th of June 1910. The ceremony shall take place at Charlotte Hill, attended by their immediate family and beloved friends. Comprising their entourage are Mr. A. Armstrong, Mr. and Mrs. H. Elliott, Miss S. Garber, Mr. and Mrs. C. Marshall, and Mr. and Mrs. R. Mustang.

———

Five different people have congratulated Roy—two of them expressing mild surprise at his previously unknown marriage—by the time he comes across the root of his very confusing Friday morning. He reads the announcement in the paper thrice, flipping the page back and forth as if doing so might correct the error. When it doesn't, he picks up the receiver of his office phone, then replaces it and instead decides to see the man himself.

He passes by Breda and Havoc on the way out, but he isn't quite sure if they’re watching him because they know what's going on, or if they're just as puzzled as he is.

Two floors down, Roy raps away at the door of the Intelligence Division office. "Hughes," he calls out. "Hughes, I need to talk to you about—"

He cuts himself off, rubbing his temple as he realizes the pointlessness of his visit. It's at this moment too that Maes Hughes opens the door with that old, damning grin, the one Roy has known from Hughes' courtship with Gracia and all through their engagement. It's the grin that precedes the talk, as Hughes has annoyingly come to call it. Roy is ready with any of several retorts, such as—

"I don't have time for this, Hughes," or;

"Go bother someone else," or;

"Stop telling me to get married, I'm not looking for a girlfriend, leave me alone—"

But to Roy’s surprise, he doesn't find reason to say any of these today.

"What brings you here, old pal?" Hughes chirps in a tone that hardly suggests he has Roy's romantic prospects on his mind at the moment. Of course he doesn't—his wedding is just around the corner, and it's not like he's marrying Roy.

Roy opens his mouth, closes it, and sighs as he enters the office. He heads straight to Hughes' desk, where he drops his copy of the East City Times, folded open to show the incriminating page.

"Oh, you've seen the announcement!" Hughes is beaming. "I would've taken out an ad every single day after the proposal, but here we are! Can you believe I'm getting married tomorrow?"

"Thanks to your constant reminders over the past three months, yes, Hughes, I can," Roy says dryly. "But how come your announcement is printed like that?"

It's only then that Hughes realizes that an error, not excitement, brought his best man to his office. Roy manages to remain patient as Hughes leans over the paper, a finger trailing the announcement word for word until he reaches the end. Hughes then grabs the paper right up to his eyes and blinks incredulously, and his expression quickly changes. It’s somewhere between incredulity, hilarity, and exasperation—as much as a cheery man like Hughes is capable of, anyway. Hughes breaks into laughter and shakes his head.

"It's not funny, Hughes,” Roy snaps, but not quite. He isn’t so upset as to be eager to start an argument. “I've spent the entire morning wondering what the hell people were congratulating me for!"

"Oh my goodness, Roy, I am so sorry that this happened. I truly am." Hughes rubs at the side of his head, tutting in good-natured disbelief. "I can’t believe it, and on the day before my wedding, too! Ah, but I think I know what happened."

"Mm-hmm?"

"I went to the newspaper office yesterday over lunch, right? It was a last-minute thing because my beautiful bride-to-be doesn't really want too much of a fuss over our wedding. So, at their office, I fill out a form—"

"Mm-hmm."

"—and these announcements are usually short, so there wasn't much space on the form. I write down the date, the location, and then I start to run out of space towards the end as I'm listing the guests."

 "Mm-hmmm."

"So, the names are squeezed into the little space I've got left, there's the Marshalls, the Elliotts... and I suppose they assumed that you were a couple with Lieutenant Hawkeye."

"WHAT?"

There is the briefest pause as Hughes leaps back, startled by the outburst, then he laughs again upon seeing the look on Roy's face. Roy can only shake his head in horror—what the hell does the man find so funny? Well, he might have laughed at this little comedy of errors himself if the situation weren't so ridiculously flustering for him. Instead, he is left to imagine it in sheer panic. R. Mustang. Riza Mustang.

His face is burning red.

"No, no, no," Roy sputters, "this—this is serious, Hughes! Hawkeye is my adjutant, and if anyone from the top brass hears this and thinks—"

"Okay, slow down, Roy. Deep breath," Hughes says, gripping Roy's shoulders. "Let's be real. They're not actually gonna think that you would just carelessly break military laws. Ambitious youngster rising up the ranks after becoming the Hero of Ishval, who would suspect you? You know what else, they also think you're some kind of heartbreaker going on dates all over East City, up to Central—and her name isn't actually on the paper next to yours, is it?"

"But what—but—so why was it written like that anyway?"

"You’re right. Lieutenant Hawkeye is an important guest. I owe her an apology.” Hughes pauses in thought. “But while we’re on the topic, maybe you two should go together, considering how much she’s actually helped with your best man duties. You know what I mean? It shouldn’t be a big deal. Take her along as a companion, save yourselves the trouble of finding dates—don't play cool, I know you haven't invited anyone—it'll be more convenient for the two of you!"

Roy runs a hand over his face, now nearly out of things to argue about short of something more personal, something more selfish, more... honest. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hughes," he sighs sharply, interrupting his own thoughts. "All right, the announcement—it’s not your fault, we can let that go. And I’ll extend your apology to Lieutenant Hawkeye—”

“And take her as your date?”

“No, because she’s already invited anyway, so there's no reason for me to do that—and if I do, then I'd have to explain to people that I'm not actually married, and she—"

"Come on, it'll be no trouble. No one’s gonna think much of it!”

"I’m thinking much of it! It’s just not a good look.” Roy begins his way back to his own office, stopping at the door just to finish saying, “And I’m not dragging Lieutenant Hawkeye into your crazy ideas!”

———

“Lieutenant Hawkeye, would you like to go to Hughes’ wedding together?”

There is a brief pause when, all at once, Roy bristles with panic for the impulsive utterance, and mild surprise breaks through Lieutenant Hawkeye’s typically impassive face, and Lieutenant Hawkeye regains her composure as Roy watches and wonders what she actually thinks of the invitation, hoping that it’s welcome.

“I don’t think I could, Sir,” she says, deadpan, “Mrs. Mustang would be devastated.”

“What the—Hawkeye, you know I don’t have a wife—”

“Damn it!”

Breda bursts into laughter behind them, drowning out Havoc’s frustrated groan as the latter reaches into the pocket of his trousers, then drops a few coins onto the table where they have been working. Roy scowls at them, partly perplexed and partly exasperated by having to deal with the ridicule twice over. When Breda recovers somewhat, he explains, “We had a bet. Havoc was so sure you really were secretly married.”

“I was counting on it, okay?” Havoc grumbles. “I haven’t had a proper girlfriend since I started working with Mustang, no one will even look twice at me—”

“There you go,” the Lieutenant says as Havoc and Breda banter on. She continues sorting the reports on Roy’s desk into dated envelopes, having been momentarily distracted by his surprise invitation. “Any of Havoc’s girlfriends would be happy to be your date to the wedding.”

“Well, I just thought—I mean, Hughes suggested that maybe it would be more convenient for you and me—for the two of us to attend together.” Roy clears his throat when he realizes that his voice is quivering slightly. What is he so nervous about? He affects a smile to regain a casual confidence. “As colleagues, of course. Friendly companions in the entourage. That’s how all of this happened, there was a mistake with our names when they printed Hughes’ wedding announcement.”

The Lieutenant remains quiet, focused on her work. A moment later, Roy asks over the sudden, quiet thumping in his chest, “Are you… already bringing someone with you?

“No,” she promptly replies, eyes remaining on the reports before her. “I was just wondering what brought this on. You don’t owe me a favor for helping out with your preparations.”

The nervous thumping subsides, only to be quickly replaced by dull dismay. Never mind the idea of being each other’s date to a special occasion, or the imaginary scenario of being a couple. He and Riza—he and the Lieutenant have been working together for over a year now. He would like to think that in that time, they would have broken down enough walls between them for her not to think that everything they do or say to each other can only be strictly pragmatic. Roy certainly sees her in a warm, friendly light, not unlike the way he did as a boy. Surely she could at least not hold him at arm’s length after a year.

Roy finds it easy to be honest when he says, “It’s not that at all. And it’s not just because of what Hughes said.” A careful pause. “I think I genuinely would enjoy your company.”

He watches Riza carefully. No expectations, he reminds himself—and then he childishly proceeds to imagine all the ways that she could react to the whole situation. Roy lingers a little too long on the scenario where she might have imagined him with some mysterious Mrs. Mustang, then felt the relief of disproven jealousy when he explained what actually happened. No—it’s far too complicated an expectation for the time being.

She looks up at last.

“All right then, Sir.”

———

The Hugheses’ wedding is the happiest, most beautiful thing that Roy remembers witnessing in a long time. The ceremony proper and the reception beginning at sunset both take place in a pavilion overlooking a lake, awash in shades of gold from the table draperies to the twinkling lights and the flowers swaying in the breeze. There isn’t anyone in his opinion who deserves a day like this more than his best friend, which is why when Roy prepares to give his best man's toast that evening, he finds himself easily turning sentimental. He drains his glass of wine, then pours himself another just before beginning his speech.

Towards the end of the toast, he says, “Gracia, I have no words for how grateful I am that Maes met you, and that you’ve loved him through some of the most difficult times of his life. You showed him that it’s possible to be truly happy even when it might appear to be difficult or impossible.”

He draws a quick, sharp breath as emotion wells up in him. Laughing to conceal it, he quickly adds, “I’m sure he tells you that enough, of course, but I’m saying this now because you’ve also made the rest of us believe it. We all see it in him. And the two of you give us hope that it can happen for anyone, with anyone who can break down our walls.” Roy raises his glass towards the newlywed couple. “Maes, Gracia, may you be a home for each other for the rest of your lives.”

The modest crowd erupts in applause, accompanied by the clinking of glasses all around the pavilion and sweet, light music for the Hugheses’ first dance. Between the spirits he consumed during his speech and the infectious joy that fills the venue, Roy soon starts to feel lightheaded. He steers clear of the dance floor as the guests pair off and weave around one another, and it’s easy to spot Riza in the crowd from where he stands.

Riza sits at the far side of a table occupied by some of Gracia’s friends, chatting away good-naturedly with a drink in hand. She’s laughing, and what a sight she is on this night away from work, so relaxed and carefree, wearing a honey brown dress that brings out the color of her eyes. She should be dancing, Roy thinks; she should be enjoying this night, not just sitting back to watch it go by as if she had come here alone.

Well, some date he is.

It’s even more outrageous now, the idea of being Riza’s date to this wedding. Not that he knew what he was thinking even when he asked her to go together, but he never actually planned as far ahead as dancing or dining or anything they can do together now that he has completed his duties as the best man. Above all, this isn’t how he had pictured Riza to look tonight, so warm and friendly and beautiful—no, different from the one he invited to be his date yesterday. This is closer to a Riza he hasn’t seen in a long time, not since he left for Ishval, anyway. How does he even strike up a conversation with an old friend from a lifetime ago? What is he supposed to do?

Roy knows one thing—he will mind seeing her dance with someone else right now.

Gracia’s friends rise from the table after a while, leaving Riza by herself. By this time, Roy has helped himself to one, now another glass of brandy, and he isn’t sure whether he’s still on his feet despite the drink or drunk enough to be bold. He takes the long way around the venue to Riza. She turns her head when she hears him approaching.

“That was a very beautiful speech, Sir,” says Riza as Roy sits at the table, leaving one empty seat between them. “It’s a shame Mrs. Mustang isn’t around to hear it.”

Roy laughs, only now realizing that no one has brought up that gaffe since yesterday. “Well, shame it isn’t my wedding. But thank you. I’m glad you think so.” He breathes a deep, thoughtful sigh. “If I’m being honest, this is perhaps the happiest I remember being in a long time.”

Riza nods slowly. “I see.”

Without directly looking at her, Roy can tell that Riza is watching him, deep in thought. She takes a sip of her wine. After a long silence, she admits, “I haven’t been to a wedding in a while, myself. I’d forgotten it was possible for people to be this… happy. It hasn’t been easy to find things that make everything we’re doing worthwhile.”

The look on her face now is different from her usual quiet expression. There she is again, Roy thinks—perhaps she suddenly looks so much like her younger self because her thoughts have wandered to a much simpler time, before all the pain they went through together. Or could she perhaps have carried those thoughts in the back of her mind all along, never allowing herself to pay attention to them, but hoping she might find a place for them in the complicated circumstances they have found themselves in?

And in this moment, Roy realizes that more than remembering the Riza from his past, what he wants is to care for the Riza he knows in the present. To be a companion to her, and for her to return the favor; goodness knows how much they have needed each other all this time, and how much more they will need each other moving forward. Above all, she is someone he knows well enough to want to know better.

So, after a while, he quietly asks, “What are you thinking now?”

Riza smiles. “That what you said in your speech is true.”

Roy raises his glass, and she clinks hers against it. This is the first time in a long time that he has seen her smile like this, that Riza has smiled at him. It feels now as if he has been newly welcomed into her life, that at last—once again—she could trust him as much as he does her.

He rises to his feet.

“I’d hate for you to have just come to watch a speech, Hawkeye. Would you like to dance?”

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Home Sweet Home: 112 Ocean Ave

Summary- 2.6k Andy Barber x You. You and Andy almost have it all, married and with a jointed family consisting of Andy’s teenage son Jacob, as well as your two younger children John and Cassidy. Looking to add another member, your family is in need of a bigger house, a forever home. You find just the place, 112 Ocean Avenue in Amityville Long Island.   Home Sweet Home

Written for @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ Spooky Scary Stories challenge. Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- swears, implied smut, mentions of murders. 

A/N- I chose Amityville Horror for the challenge because its one of my favorite Spook Stories growing up. When reading you will find a lot of similarities to the 2005 Movie, some of the scenarios and dialogue are specifically from that film. Other parts of it are from the book itself. The family name was changed for my own personal reasons. Happy Haunting!  🎃

Masterlist

You scrolled through your phone, double checking the address. “Andy it should be up the next couple streets. Lakeside.” You couldn't hold back the excitement in your tone, and Andy hit the blinker to turn down Ocean Avenue. 

“Babe, don't get too excited.” Andy tried to talk reason with you, his fingers thrumming on the steering wheel. “If it's too good to be true, it probably is.” 

You shifted over as much as you could, the Audi middle armrest keeping you from curling up into his side, but you could rest your head on his bicep. “Come on Andy, this might just be what we've been looking for. Good school district, excellent location, nice neighborhood, enough room for all three of the kids.” 

Andy tilted his head a bit to look down at you, his eyes softening around the edges as he finally smiled, you were so excited for this that it was hard not to match your enthusiasm. His hand released the steering column to take your hand, weaving his fingers through your hand, he let your hands rest against his lap. “You know Y/N, if this place is as big as what the pictures show, we could finally try for our own baby.” 

Wiggling your brows, you nuzzled his arm before sitting up. “I know Andy, why else do you think I want this place. Five bedrooms. It's perfect. Jacob can have a room to come home to when he comes and stays with us when he's not with Laurie. Cassidy and John each have their own bedrooms, and future little Barber Bean will have a cute nursery.” Your voice wandered as your gaze turned towards the window, watching beautiful homes pass you two by. Homes you never would have dreamed possible, million dollar homes on a lake. When you got the ping on your phone for 112 Ocean Avenue being lowered in price, you dreamed about the possibility of it. Then it lowered again, and you started to get hopeful. Then this last price drop, taking off another $30,000 dollar, you squealed in bed. Effectively waking Andy with a jolt, startling him. 

Now here you were, going to look at what will be your dream home, the perfect home. The forever home for you and Andy. Andy would probably scoff at you just knowing this, since he didn't believe in fate. But you did, fate after all was how you met the DA in a bar when you both needed each other in a dark time, and had fallen in love. So fate now was leading you here, to your and Andy’s new start in life. It could be a dream come true. You had enough belief for both of you.  

Suddenly a big white house filled your vision, and you glanced at the address on the GPS. “Andy, there it is! Look at it.” You said excitedly, and Andy slowed the car, pulling to the curb to lean a bit into the passenger side, looking out your window to gaze at the house, giving a small whistle. 

“Okay Sweetheart, I agree. This place looks nice. Too nice, are you sure that price is right?” 

“Yes, I double checked with the realtor when I called them last week. It's really the right price.” 

Andy straightened in his seat, and turned into the long driveway. “That true Honey, this is the deal of a lifetime.” 

You grinned excitedly, just about bouncing in your seat. Andy’s hand reached over, sliding his hand along your thigh before taking your hand, weaving his fingers with yours and giving a gentle squeeze. You knew that he was also excited now. 

When Andy pulled up to the house, the realtor waited for them on the front steps, clutching her phone to her chest and gave a smile. The kind a dealer who's looking to make a fast sale gives. “Welcome, I had hoped you all would be able to find the place easily. Magnificent isn't it? Built around 1910, the foundation is original, but all updated while keeping its original charm. Shall we go inside?” She dangled the keys and you with wide eyed enthusiasm nodded. Andy draped his arm over your shoulder, nodding in agreement. 

The realtor showed them right inside, bustling them inside as she shut the door. “As you see, lots of beautiful lighting, the kitchen has been all updated. The marble counter tops were just installed not even two years ago.” She clasped her hands together and kept a smile plastered on her face while you and Andy wandered into the entrance of the house, looking around. Andy’s head tilted back while looking for any kind of possible damage while you took a step or two on the stairs, and leaned against the banister. “What are you thinking Andy?” you wiggle your nose at him, and he glances at you, you can see him hiding a smile, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, humming lightly while looking around once more before answering. “The entrance way looks nice, spacious. But I want to look over the rest of the house.” 

“Of course, if you come this way to the sitting room. Perfect for get togethers, children's sleepovers, family game nights. Do you… two have any children?” she flashed a toothy grin, and you wandered away from Andy a moment while he addressed the realtor. “Yes, Y/N has two smaller children, and I have a teenage son.” 

“How nice! Then this really would be perfect for living a family life.” she continued on while Andy followed her in, you waited a moment, then stepped away yourself, going the opposite way. You could still hear the realtor's voice, but you paid no heed. You already knew that this was home. You already could see yourself with a new baby on your hip, redecorating room by room. Andy would be able to set up a home office to work from. You might even be able to write that book you wanted. The kids would settle in, Jacob could come home on weekends from college, holidays the whole family could get together and everything you were picturing was the dream. 

Your dream and you hoped Andy's dream as well. 

Your fingers slid along the cool marble counters once you reached the kitchen, and looked around at the new appliances installed. You grasped the large kitchen sink, and peeked out the back window to see the lake view, catching your breath. Large old maple trees adorned the lake edge, and there was a boat house at the end of the deck. Could this place get any better? 

“Y/N?” you heard Andy coming up from behind you, the click of heels against the floor told you the realtor was right on your husbands tail when he entered the kitchen. Looking around, he gave a low whistle of approval. “Nice.” 

You spun and couldn't hide the grin. “Isn't it? Andy…” You gave a soft whine, and he hugged around you, shushing you in your ear a moment before turning towards the realtor. 

“Basement? I plan on converting it into a temporary office for now until we're settled.” Andy asked and the realtor turned around and opened a door, flicking on a light. 

“Go on ahead and look around.” She looked down the dark stairs and took a cautious step back, her voice wavering slightly. “I’m- uh- gonna just stay up here.” 

Andy walked past her, and you followed him, the both of you going down the stairs. Once you both got to the bottom, Andy looked around all the corners. It seemed dry, clean, and had all the usual things that made up a basement. “Yup, it’s a basement.” 

You leaned onto him a moment and chuckled. “You sound so excited Mr.Barber.” 

Up above them, the realtor said in her overly cheerful voice. “So what do you two think?” 

Andy arched a teasing brow and looked you up and down. “I think you look foxy in that skirt.” 

“Andy!” you hissed as you pushed lightly against his chest and started back up the stairs. He was right behind you and his hand slapped against your backside teasing before you two came back out in the kitchen. 

The rest of the tour went decent, the upstairs had more than enough bedrooms for everyone, closet space, the works. Even now Andy was getting a bit more on board with the prospect of buying this house, and you were sure he was going to give in. Your tour ended back in the main foyer, and Andy excused you two to talk a moment. He pulled you into the living room, sure to give you two enough space not to be overheard. 

“You really want this house Y/N?” his hands reached for yours and weaved your fingers together. “It will mean some sacrifices, because it's still on the high end of our price range, but we can do it.” He assured you, and you shuffled a foot back and forth while thinking about it. 

“I want to, Andy, I feel like this is the right place for us. It has everything we wanted and then some. I can see us being happy here.” 

That was all it took, Andy gave a smile and nodded in agreement, and you couldn't help the excited yelp, jumping into his arms, hugging around his neck and legs around his slender waist. The realtor with a look of panic came running around the corner of the entrance and put her hand to her chest in relief. 

“Were all happy then?” 

You grinned happily as you slid back to the floor, and Andy wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I think we're ready to put an offer on it.” 

“Well, let me call my office and see about drawing up some papers.” She seemed to be relieved, and once you all were ushered outside, she closed the door firmly. Andy walked down the path a short ways, and turned around to look up at the expansive house, his hand rubbing at his beard in a thoughtful way. The largest purchase he’s made so far, but something was still bugging him about it. 

“Okay, what’s the catch with this place? I looked up what other listings go for in this area. None of them are nearly in such a nice location, or this size, and they are twice the price of this house.” When the realtor hesitated, Andy cleared his throat. “By law you're required to tell us if anything has happened here we should be aware of.” You suddenly could feel your heart sinking a bit at the realtors' crestfallen face. 

“Okay… There was a tragedy- a family was murdered here.” You gasped and the realtor continued. “But that was a long time ago, everyone in the town has moved on. Plus it's a house, a beautiful house just made to have a family in it and become a home. Why let one bad time ruin your decision? You will not find a nicer home in the area, that I can guarantee.” 

Andy took a deep breath and looked up at the house again, and you tugged lightly on his jacket. “Can we still? would it be too weird to live in a house where a family was murdered?” 

“Baby, it's not the house's fault. House’s don't kill people, people kill people. Trust me, I've worked enough cases to know.” Andy glanced down at you. “Would you be able to be okay with it?”  

You let it sink in, and you never had to find out the details honestly. You didn't want to know, you just couldn't let your dreams slip away by something that happened in the past. 

“Let's do it Andy, we can make a better story for this house. Our story.”

Later that night, you and Andy have just told the kids that they were indeed buying a house, and showed them pictures of it. After the two smaller ones were in bed, you and Andy were curled up on the couch, watching a tv show. Jacob was nearby on his phone, looking at the pictures he asked you to send him earlier. 

“This house is huge, way bigger than this one or the one Mom has.” Jacob happened to remark, and Andy nodded. 

“It really is Jake, and it's by the college you want to attend. Y/N and I were talking about it on the way home, and if you just wanted to stay with us rather than live on campus, you would save lots of money.” You nodded in agreement while Andy continued. “No rent, you just gotta help around the house a bit.” 

Jacob looked thoughtful at the offer you and his father was making, and he finally nodded. “That actually would be great guys, thanks. At least the first year.” He went back to his phone, and you hid a grin against Andy’s arm, both of you pleased that he was so eager to take up the offer. He might not be your son, but you cared for him just as much as either of your children. 

Jacob soon yawned and stretched. “Catch y'all in the morning.” 

Andy gave a nod and you yawned sleepily as well, but opted to stay right where you were. “Night Jakey.” You said, and he gave a wave as he headed up the stairs to the bedroom he shared with your son. 

It was quiet for a while before Andy kissed the top of your head, and you looked up at him. “Excited Baby?” 

You bit your lip and shifted to sit up more, pushing him back against the couch, and lifting your leg over his to straddle him while cupping his face. “Want me to show you just how excited I am Handsome?” your brows wriggled and his hands gripped your hips gently and tilted his head. 

“Think we're not going to get caught?” Andy said in a hushed voice and you tilted to look up the stairs, noticing all the lights were off. 

“We’re safe.” You giggled and covered your lips with his, brushing up against him with a soft moan. 

You were more than happy to show him just how excited you were. 

Later that night, when everyone was sound asleep, Andy eased out of bed, sure to make sure you were covered. Making his way down to the kitchen, he grabbed his laptop and started it up while moving to sit down. Quickly he pulled up google, and typed in the new house's address. Whatever happened wouldn't change his mind. But Andy liked to know what exactly he was moving his family into. 

What pulled up was horrific. Pulling up crime scene photos of the family who lived in 112 Ocean Ave years ago, he wasn't shocked to see splatters of blood across the master bedroom that would soon be yours, or the torn apart children's beds with holes blown through the mattresses. It wouldn't be the first time he's seen this kind of evil in the world with his work. Rubbing his hand against his chin in thought, his eyes scanned through the article. What he wasn't expecting was the oldest Deffor son, 24 named Ronnie was the killer.  

He had gone through with a rifle at 3:30 in the morning, starting with his parents and then moving onto his siblings. “Oh god.” Andy muttered as he read the details logged, the man claimed he was told to by a demon. Pushing back from his seat, just staring at the picture of Ronnie being taken out by the police, Andy couldn't look away from his eyes, bloodshot and wild. They bothered Andy to look at, imagining how terrified the children must have been to see their brother staring at them like that, from the end of a rifle. Reaching over to close the laptop, and cut off the pictures, he sighed. 

People kill people, the house is perfectly fine. Telling himself this, he put away his laptop and went back upstairs to join you again. You muttered in your sleep and eased back into his arms. 

[irelandseyeonmythology]

What would you describe as your ideal “accurate,” or at least acceptable depiction of the TDD in fantasy fiction?

You know...it's funny with me, because I think that people always think that I have really high standards when it comes to this sort of thing. Like "Oh, if you haven't read THIS obscure Dindshenchas story that was only edited in 1910 and never given a proper translation, you're dead to me." And like...obviously, I LOVE when that sort of stuff is included. I LOVE when it's very clear that an author's done their work, but I don't expect anyone to get their degree to do it. (Though...I...did kind of do that, but I'm also very much a "do as I say, not as I do" example, given that I honestly still have no idea how I ended up getting this far.)

And I should note that, the books that I've individually talked about aside...I do keep up a collection of Schlocky Depictions of the Tuatha Dé. I find them highly entertaining while also being really relevant to the pop culture arm of my research, since I'm always genuinely fascinated in...how people are receiving these stories, what they're taking away from them, how they're getting re-interpreted, and what these interpretations say about us. You know, what does it mean when the Fomoire keep getting depicted as demonic monsters? Why do we keep trying to draw this sort of binary between GOOD characters and EVIL characters that didn't really exist in the same way in the literature? (I'd never say the Fomoire are good, but they aren't as distinct from the TDD as people want them to be.) I love trash, all kinds of trash. Give me your smutty trash, your unedited trash, your vanity press trash, your Oh My God This Was Written In The 80s Trash, your "Read Lady Gregory once five years ago and decided to work off of that" trash, your cardboard cutout characters trash. I will read it. And I will love it. You would not believe the books that are on my "most sought after" list. You would not. You would not believe the things I have willingly and enthusiastically exposed my eyeballs to.

But, to actually answer your question...I don't care about accuracy. Not in the way you think. Because you're dealing with a very fluid tradition, you can never quite keep continuity because there was never a continuity to begin with. That doesn't mean that I'm saying "Eh, who cares. Don't do research at all!" Rather that...I feel like it's important to learn the rules as best as you can and then break them. And I've seen some adaptations crash and burn because they tried to bring too much in from too many sources (Pursuit being the immediate one that comes to mind even though, imo, it was brilliant in many ways.)

So, I would like something that is aware of the sources, but that also...wants to do them justice. I'm working on an adaptation of CMT, so I have my own biases, but the first thing I really wanted to do was to figure out how to use the sources I had to build the characters up and to flesh out the story, while also doing my own thing.

With the TDD, one thing that a lot of adaptations fall into is treating them as infallible. And if they were infallible, I wouldn't be interested in them. Hell, for that matter, the medieval Irish wouldn't have been interested in them. Lugh kills people. Regularly. And, in fact, most frequently commits kinslaying. Nuada has jealousy issues and in, say, Oidheadh Chloinne Tuireann and the Early Modern CMT, was...not a particularly strong or inspiring ruler. The Dagda is willing to kill three men to bring back his own son, only bringing them back from the dead when his son urges him to (and that's not including the things he does that need a tw), as well as being...let's be honest, a pretty terrible father to Óengus, who, himself, as well as being a bit of a scam artist, does...drown a guy in horse piss. Midir is implied in one recension of Togail Bruidne Dá Derga to have caused Conaire's death because of his pissing match with Eochaid Airem and his union with Étaín seems to have been Pretty Damn Illegal by medieval Irish standards (or at least a dick move). Mannanán tries to pull a reverse Green Knight to troll the Fianna. Bres is...Bres. And all the Tuatha Dé who were alive at a certain time definitely were complicit in what happened to the Fir Bolg.

And, obviously, I'm not trying to #cancel medieval Irish literature. That would be...very self-defeating on my end, though I've long since said that the day someone tries to bring Bres Discourse to me is the day I officially yeet myself into the sun. Rather, what I'm saying is that there are a LOT of gray areas people can explore, and that tend to get glossed over. The fantasy genre DESPERATELY want the TDD to be elves, this sort of idealized, wise, powerful immortal race who are all pretty and white/blonde haired, who act as counsellors and guides to mortals, and who all speak in this sort of airy, resigned tone. And...well. They CAN be wise. They are definitely powerful. And they are immortal in the sense of "does not die of old age." But they are also petty and vindictive.

And, likewise, people often feel the need to drag the enemies of the Tuatha Dé down - the Fomoire and the Fir Bolg are prominent examples. The Fomoire I can understand -- they WERE, in their ninth century incarnations, based on the Vikings. That being said, there are ways authors could show them as antagonistic while still showing they're human. We don't need to see Cethlenn committing human sacrifices in her opening scene (yes, I have seen this.) And the Fir Bolg, honestly...did nothing wrong and, in the one long prose text of the First Battle of Magh Tuireadh that survives, I would argue that they're the heroes.

Basically...my ideal version is one that has some grounding in...at least Lebor Gabála Érenn (...only the part with the Tuatha Dé and the Fir Bolg, I would not ask anyone to read the whole thing), Cath Finntrágha, Tochmarc Étain, Cath Maige Tuired, Cath Maige Tuireadh Conga, Oidheadh Chloinne Tuireann, and a few Dindshenchas poems (I know, I know it's a long list, I swear I wanted to only bring in about 2-3, but they're all so GOOD), but that is also aware that, because it's a fluid tradition, they have the freedom to break free and do their own thing. I want to see the Tuatha Dé written as fully realized characters with their own flaws and merits and weird little quirks, and I want to see their enemies depicted as people, as well. I want to see nuanced bonds between all of them, especially with the complicated family dynamics. I want to see a society that...in some ways, is very beautiful -- wonderful poetry, a highly complex legal system, rich clothing, fine jewelry, brave warriors, clever poets...while also showing the dark side. The fantasy genre is wonderful for exploring the complexities of a society and worldbuilding in general, so you can really have some fun with a world inspired by medieval Ireland.

[calabria-mediterranea]

Finding the treasures of the goddess Hera at Capo Colonna, Crotone (Calabria, southern Italy)

With modern life increasingly dominated by technology, holidays are becoming one of the rare chances to spend time immersed in nature, when we can try to look at the world around us rather than computer screens.

Calabria, with its wild landscapes and panoramic views of the Mediterranean sea, is an ideal place to reestablish a connection with the natural, simple side of life and enjoy the vibrant colours of wild flowers and cacti while listening out to the sounds of insects, birds and animals.

One of the best places to experience the natural beauty of this southern Italian region is at Capo Colonna, a promontory known as Capo Lacinio in antiquity, which is about 13 km south of Crotone in eastern Calabria. This is the site of one of the most important sanctuaries in Magna Graecia, the area of southern Italy colonized and populated by Greek settlers from the eighth century BC.  It was dedicated to the goddess Hera, wife of Zeus and queen of the Gods, who was venerated here as the protector of women, as well as a type of Mother Nature, the protector of animals and of sea travel, and a sort of liberator.

A grand temple to Hera Lacinia stood on the site from around the fifth century BC. From their boats, sailors would have had a view of the eastern side of the temple and its six columns. Unfortunately, it was demolished in the 16th century AD so its materials could be used for the construction of various buildings in Crotone. The sanctuary was further pillaged in the 18th century.

Nowadays all that remains of the temple is one single Doric column, measuring 8.35 metres in height.  Nevertheless, the surrounding land and views of the sea still reflect the sacred nature of this site that may have originally inspired the idea for a sanctuary here.

The most outstanding piece is a glistening gold diadem, or tiara, shaped out of a band of gold leaf and decorated with both a braid pattern and foliage garland. It is believed to have undergone two phases of work between the sixth and fifth centuries BC, and likely crowned a representation of Hera within the sanctuary. Interestingly, coins used in Crotone from the fourth century portrayed a crowned head of Hera.

To this day, the diadem still maintains its golden glow and is quite a treat to stumble upon in the museum.

The gifts left to Hera that were found in the sanctuary also include a set of intriguing bronze ornaments that are sculpted into three female mythological figures: the Siren, the Seated Sphinx, and the Winged Gorgon.

Before heading to Capo Colonna, visitors to the area can discover more about its stories at the Archaeological Museum in Crotone. Excavations begun by the archaeologist Paolo Orsi in 1910 uncovered a treasure trove of gold, silver and bronze votive offerings to the goddess, which provide insight into the people and traditions of the time.

A Siren was one of several sea nymphs in classical mythology, which was part-woman and part-bird. They seduced seamen and lured them to shipwreck. The bronze siren found in the sanctuary of Hera dates to the middle of the sixth century BC.

The Sphinx was a winged monster in mythology, with a woman’s head and a lion’s body. She would kill anyone who was unable to answer her riddle. The Sphinx found here probably once adorned a container such as a cauldron and is dated to around 540 BC.

The Winged Gorgon, which dates to a similar time, is an especially interesting and unique piece. It is running to the left and grinning while sticking its tongue out, a pose associated with this female creature of the underworld.

Among other offerings left to the goddess, I found a bronze ship linked to the ancient Nuragic civilization of Sardinia, made in the seventh century BC. This ornament, depicting a typical Sardinian ship, portrays two carts drawn by a pair of oxen on both sides, and two doves on flagpoles. It is the first of its kind discovered in southern Italy and highlights the importance of the sanctuary of Hera, to which someone felt compelled to donate such a beautiful and rare gift.

This sculpture of a horse was also found, one of the first discovered in Calabria which resembles the Greek geometric style. Dating to the 7th century BC, it points to close and regular relations between the sanctuary of Hera and other sanctuaries in Greece.

Centres of worship such as the sanctuary of Hera developed on the edges of the settlement of Crotone, one of the most important cities in Magna Graecia, and were considered signs of divine protection. Religious sanctuaries were focal points for local inhabitants and became a meeting place for Greek travellers and indigenous people.

In the near-by museum on the site of Capo Colonna, there are further remains of the temple to see, such as this female head, discovered in 1972, which was probably from a sculpture on its roof.

The natural area around the temple was viewed as a sacred forest, according to several ancient accounts. Since a plan was launched in the 1980s to turn the area into a protected archeological park, a new group of trees have been planted along the road towards the sanctuary. The surroundings are covered in wild poppies and other bright flowers, which create wonderful contrasts with the azure and turquoise waters of the sea.

@calabria_mediterranea

[fibula-rasa]

12 Christmas Films of a Century Past

For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to watch somewhere around 50 Christmas and Christmas-adjacent silent films from before 1920 to put together a playlist for you all. So, I hope you enjoy!

I chose these twelve as a representative selection. My general criteria were:

Christmas should be central to the story

The plot should be novel to a modern viewer or something a modern viewer would be surprised to see so early on film

The list on the whole should have a variety of settings and narrative structures

Here’s a direct link to the YouTube playlist if you want to watch them all in one go. (They are all shorter than feature length!)

Two quick presentation notes: 1. Some of the videos have music and some don’t, so you may want to check your volume level. 2. The intertitles for some of these films are not in English, so be sure you have captions turned on for English translations.

See the whole list BELOW THE JUMP!

1. Santa Claus (1898) (UK)

Directed by George Albert Smith

Short and sweet, this film sees children put to bed by their nanny on Christmas Eve and Santa Claus coming down the chimbley to fill their dutifully hung stockings. Director G.A. Smith used his own patented technique of double exposure to show Santa’s arrival without cutting away from the children’s room. Santa Claus might not pack the punch of a Méliès trick film, but it’s a fun novelty and is purportedly the first appearance of Santa Claus on film.

2. The Little Match Seller (1902) (UK)

Directed by James Williamson

This one’s quick but effective adaptation of the Hans Christian Anderson tragedy featuring impressively well-coordinated superimpositions.

3. The Christmas Angel (1904) (FR)

Directed by George Méliès for Star Film Company

The Christmas Angel follows an impoverished girl driven into the city to beg on a snowy winter night. First she’s chased away from a church by more seasoned beggars; then she’s thrown out of a poultry seller and harassed by police. On the verge of falling asleep in the snow, a rag-and-bone man rouses her and offers her help. Later, the girl passes out beside a road but is luckily spotted by a wealthy couple on a car ride. When they learn of her plight, they bring her home along with food and gifts.

Though not as fantastical as some of Méliès’ more famous works, The Christmas Angel is still highly stylized (and stylish) and features special effects that photograph beautifully. It’s also worth noting that the version of the film included here is the American cut. The original French cut, titled Détresse et Charité (Distress and Charity), did not include the sequence with the wealthy couple and instead ends with the girl dying in the snow.

4. The Night Before Christmas (1905) (US)

Directed by Edwin S. Porter for Edison Manufacturing Company

This is the first time the poem “Twas the Night Before Christmas” was put on film. Loosely following the poem, we see Santa Claus prepare for his yearly trek while a middle-class family prepares for his visit. When Santa heads out, we are treated to an extended panning sequence with a fully painted backdrop for a mini Santa and his reindeer to glide across. When Santa arrives at the family home, he chaotically dumps presents and decorations around their living room and makes a large, decorated tree appear out of thin air. (Across many of the movies I watched to put this post together, this seems to be a favored scenario for the jolly fat man around this time–and it’s delightful.) The family then wakes to find their gifts and the film closes with Santa directly wishing us a Merry Christmas.

5. A Little Girl Who Did Not Believe in Santa Claus (1907) (US)

Directed by J. Searle Dawley and Edwin S. Porter for Edison Manufacturing Company

Even at the risk of this list being too Edison heavy, I couldn’t leave this great short out. While walking with his mother, a rich little boy encounters a poor little girl alone in the cold. They take her home to play and warm up. When the boy learns that the girl doesn’t believe in Santa because apparently Santa doesn’t visit poor children, he hatches a scheme. On Christmas Eve, the boy has a stake out near the fireplace and takes Santa hostage, tying him up and holding him at gunpoint. The boy then forces Santa to visit the girl–going so far as shimmying down the chimney himself to let Santa in the front door. When the girl wakes up to a beautifully decorated tree, new toys, and a full stocking, she can finally believe in Santa Claus. While I’m generally not so into stories about supposedly benevolent rich people, I do love the implications this story has on how Santa Claus works and I also find the means with which the boy gets his way hilarious.

6. Il Natale di Cretinetti / Foolshead’s Christmas (1909) (IT)

and Come fu che l’ingordigia rovino il Natale di Cretinetti / How Greediness Spoilt Foolshead’s Christmas (1910)

and Il Natale di Cretinetti (1911)

Directed by Andre Deed for Itala Film

This entry is a three-for, which I hope you’ll excuse, but I couldn’t decide which Cretinetti Christmas to share! Cretinetti, the comedic persona of filmmaker Andre Deed, is an absolute agent of chaos.

In the 1909 film, Cretinetti attempts to bring a tree home for a Christmas party. The destruction escalates wildly, culminating in an entire building falling to pieces.

If you can believe it, the stakes are even higher in the 1910 film, when Cretinetti can’t resist sneaking out of bed on Christmas Eve to snack on the candy decorating the tree. When Santa sees what Cretinetti has done, he chides him and takes him back to his workshop, which is apparently in heaven. Destruction ensues. Cretinetti then proceeds to cause havoc for Saint Peter, annoying god so much that he calls the devil to come get Cretinetti. Cretinetti is then chased to hell where demons try to cook him alive. Thankfully, spoiler alert, it was all a bad dream and he wakes up on Christmas morning with a terrible stomach ache.

The 1911 film returns to localized chaos. Cretinetti has a run-in with a mail carrier and his Christmas packages get mixed up with one of the carrier’s parcels. The parcel contains three bottles of ether which then begin to emit gasses in the middle of the family Christmas party.

I wasn’t familiar with Cretinetti before reviewing films for this list, but I’m definitely going to seek out more of Deed’s movies. Each of these films had well-executed chaotic slapstick; over-the-top in all the right ways.

7. Making Christmas Crackers (1910) (UK)

Produced by Cricks & Martin Films for Clarke, Nickolls, & Coombs Confectionery

To start, if you’re not sure what a Christmas cracker is, it’s a colorfully decorated paper tube that makes a cracking noise as you pull it open. Inside the tube is a paper hat, a joke, and/or a small toy. It’s a traditional part of UK Christmas celebrations.

This short starts as a documentary of the workers at Clarke, Nickolls, & Coombs constructing the crackers. It’s a fun thought that as early as 1910, people were interested in watching how mass-produced consumer goods were made. It’s also fun to see these skilled workers ply their trade so deftly (even though I’m sure wages and working conditions were less than ideal). The film ends with a family celebrating around a Christmas tree topped with a functional giant cracker.

8. A Christmas Carol (1910) (US)

Directed by J. Searle Dawley for Edison Films Manufacturing Company

There are so so so many film adaptations of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol made before 1920 that it was hard to choose which one to include on this list. In the end I chose this 1910 version for its economy of storytelling, fluid use of special effects, and for Marc McDermott’s great performance as Scrooge.

9. Broncho Billy’s Christmas Dinner (1911) (US)

Directed by Gilbert M. Anderson (Broncho Billy) for The Essanay Film Manufacturing Company

Gilbert M. Anderson was an incredibly prolific and popular filmmaker and star of early American film, particularly in his role as Broncho Billy. As was typical for Anderson, he’s pulling triple duty on Broncho Billy’s Christmas Dinner as the star, director, and producer. The film features a simple and heartwarming story.

On Christmas, Billy comes across a young woman in peril as her horses got startled and are now pulling her cart along wildly. Billy manages to wrangle the horses and in gratitude she invites him to Christmas dinner at her parents’ home. Unfortunately, her father happens to be the sheriff. But, all is well, as it turns out that Broncho Billy’s been given a pardon and the sheriff welcomes him to the table gladly.

The enduring appeal of outlaws or criminals getting into the Christmas spirit is fascinating to me and it’s cool to see such an early instance of the story!

10. Le Noel de la princesse / The Little Princess’s XMas Gift (1911) (FR)

Produced by Société Générale des Cinématographes Éclipse

In all honesty, this is the least Christmassy of all the films I included here, but its style and novelty stood out. The sets, costuming, and production design are lush. It might also be one of the weirdest Christmas stories I’ve even encountered.

After Lord Othberg passes away, the conniving Otto plans to assassinate the baby prince in order to inherit the lordship himself. He poisons the baby, but the princess prays for her baby brother to come back to life as her Christmas gift. An angel appears to her and they summon Jesus, who resurrects her baby brother. Of course, they then place the revivified baby in the castle’s nativity scene, to the joy of all but Otto.

11. Ida’s Christmas (1912) (US)

Directed by Van Dyke Brooke for Vitagraph Company of America

With a more classic Christmassy story, Ida’s Christmas tells us of a family who are facing hard times. Ida (played by a very small Dolores Costello) has her eyes on a pricey doll. Meanwhile, her mother seeks out employment with a wealthy family. The matriarch of the wealthy family overhears Ida’s wish and decides to buy the doll for her as a surprise. Later, Ida is distraught to find that the doll has been purchased but comes across a wallet that someone has dropped. She considers taking the money, but chases down the owner instead. The old man gives her some reward money for returning the wallet. Ida rushes to see if she can buy the doll, but has second thoughts when she thinks about how much her family could use the money. She arrives home with the money just in time for a Santa-esque old man to show up bearing packages and an assurance that the wealthy family has work for her father. The film ends with the family celebrating an unexpectedly Merry Christmas.

It’s a sweet story that hits so many beats of what we now consider traditional Christmas tales.

12. Rozhdestvo obitateley lesa / The Insect’s Christmas (1913) (RU)

Directed by Władysław Starewicz for Khanzhonkov

Fair warning, if you thought The Princess’s XMas Gift was odd, you might need to ready yourself for this one. Stop-motion virtuoso Władysław Starewicz (Ladislas Starevich) spins a tale about a tiny ornament of Santa/Ded Moroz coming to life on Christmas and going out into the wild to bring Christmas joy to creatures small and smaller, including a frog and a ladybug. Starewicz’s animation is as impeccable as ever and the short is imaginative and quirky.

[anne-white-star]

Vampire pertwee x reader my love

Notes: reader is a recarnation of jon his past wife takes place during 2021 the pandemic never happend au

Prompt line : 51. I thought you died (alone a long long time ago).

Tag: @watermonkeystuff

Warnings : mention of blood, murder and death

Words: 1920

1871

The life of a vampire can be lonely specaly in a big cold castle. But that changed when he met you, you came at his door wounded, bleeding and close to passing out from the bloodloss.

"Excuse me sir but could you please perhaps help me i was atacked by some robbers they took everything and killed my horse" she was swaying on her feet

"Of course" the tall man said "tell me whats your name ?"

"My name is y/n and i came from (your home town)"

"My goodness thats far away please come in then i can take a look at your wounds".

"Thank you" she started to sway even more with eatch step

"Let me carry you, you clearly arn't able to walk up the stairs"

"Thanks sir"

"Please call me jon" The man picked her up And brought her to one of the many rooms.

That was the night he met you changed him forever

The day he lost you was one of the days he lost his happiness.

You had gone to the market that day to get food for dinner when there was an atack and got slain in the battle it was absolutly horible, you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Jon was absolutly heart broken about the news he got, the men who had killed you left the town and flet, he felt anger to those men and went in search. When jon found them he kiled the men he took plesure in their screams of agony as they lay dying on the pavement of the coblestone road. After that he swore to never kill anyone ever again simply because you would have wanted that.

That was 150 years ago.

2021

Jon had viseted your grave many times after your death, he took care of the plants and brought new flowers everytime the old once had died. "Oh i miss you so mutch my darling, no words can say how mutch i miss you, i just wish that i was there to protect you" he brushed his hand over the beautyfull headstone engraved with your name and a tiny little portrait.

Jon had a broach that was decorated with locks of your hair (that was costume to do back in the day when people were mourning a loved one) he had it pinned on he his white blouse just above his heart, jon dint look out of place of course he stil lived in the old castle and somethimes enjoyed to wear his old outfit but he needed to get with the times he had no Idea what those little boxes were that people used what were they called again? Phones or something.... nevermind he thought

"Thill next time my dear y/n"

He stood up And left your grave, When jon walked out of the cemetery he walked right trough the park, he was looking around at people relaxing and playing until his eyes fell on a woman who sat under a big willow tree that was near the lake, she wore a long back summer dress had (your color and lenght hair) next to her lay a summer hat and in her lap was a sketch book.

Jon took a second good look at her he wasn't dreaming the woman looked exactly like you , it was rude to stare he knew that but he just could't take his eyes off you, he was thinking should i aproace her or not? He srugged and went to her. The woman looked up at the sound of somone walking up to her.

"Hello miss i saw you sitting all alone drawing and i was wondering if you would mind me sitting here with you"

"Oh not at all please sit down"

"Thank you, tell me what are you drawing?"

"I saw a few birds sitting in the tree and i got some insperation to draw them "

"May i see it?"

"Sure" she handed him the book

"It looks amazing mind if i look through the book?"

"Not at all go ahead"

"My my you quite got the talent miss?"

"Oh y/n y/l/n" she held out her hand

"Jon, jon pertwee" he shook her hand

"Nice to meet you jon, tell me have we met before? You look familiar".

"Umm no? I don't think so" of course he knew that they met before you had the exact same name as his wife.

"Oh what a shame I really could have sworn i have seen you before"

"Its fine, tell me dear are you perhaps intresed in taking a walk? "

"Sure why not" y/n put her stuff in a bag and hung it over her shoulder and put the hat on her head.

Jon grabed her arm and leaded the way "tell me y/n What do you do in your daily life?"

"Wel i have a job that im working for and some studdys inbetween"

"Ah i see, what about hobbies?"

"Oh i enjoy drawing in my free time and love music"

"Oh lovely, i had a wife who enjoyed the same hobbies as you"

"Had?"

"Yes unfortanetly she past away some years ago"

"Im sorry to hear that, i bet that the time she spent with you were some of her best"

"Yeah i hope so she was the light of my life, Anyway miss y/n would you like to come with me i really Would love to hear more about you and see more of your art"

"Sure why not " y/n started to pack her things,

Y/n wasn't afraid of him for some reason the felt save with him "so tell me where do you live jon?"

"Wel do you know the old land house up on the Hill outside of town?

"Oh yes i do, sinds a young age i felt drawn to the place even if i have never been inside there"

"Do you have the feeling that its familiar to you in one way ?"

"Now you say so yes i do, i had a dream once that i was inside the house reading infront of the fireplace and then a pair of arms wraped around me and huged me close it was very comforting"

"Hmm strange oh wel, Ah it looks like we are here" Jon opend the door and let her in

Y/n gasped it was exactly like her dream a coutch infront of the fireplace a rug lay on the floor embroidery with flowers, red curtans and beautyfull paintings, what caught her eye was one particular painting wich hangs next to the window, it was one painting of a woman in a victorian dress her hair fell in curly locks over her shoulder and her eyes looked at her.

"She looks just like me"

"That was my wife her name was (your full name) she was the love of my life until she got killed by some robbers"

"When did she die?"

Jon sighed and looked down sadly "she died (your birthdate) in 1871"

Y/n looked at him in shock "hold on somthing is not adding up here, you said she died in 1871 but its now 2021 thats 150 years ago????, what are you?!"

Jon looked up in embaresment "wel the true is that im a vampire i have been alive for over 300 years now"

Y/n was backing away but stoped in her tracks when she got an other vision "Oh my god!"

"Whats wrong? "

"I saw her again and you were there, you took her in she was wounded you took care of her"

"Y/n do you believe in recarnation?"

"Yes"

"When were you born?"

"(Your birthdate) why"

"Because its the exact same month and day that she died but its more than 100 years apart"

"It al makes sens now the visions, the feeling to be drawn to this place seing you in some of my dreams but with blury face my goodness"

"Y/n i hope its not weird but i would love to get to know you better if you don't mind that "

"No of course i wouldn't mind i just need time" she softly smiled

"Are you feeling scared?"

"No not at all i feel really save so save i have never been in my entire life"

"Come with me i want to show you something" jon softly grabed her hand and took her upstairs, they both stoped at a door "this was my wife her bedroom before we got married, i havn't been in here for a long time". He opened the door and they both were greated by a big canopy bed made up with silk (favorite color) sheets

"You can stay here as long as you like y/n, in the closet are some of her dresses they might fit you"

"Thanks jon, is it alright if i look around?"

"Sure dear go ahead, dinner wil be ready in an hour"

"Alright thanks " she smiled once jon was gone y/n started to look around, she aproched the wooden closet that stood against the wall once she opend it She was greated by dresses in all kind of difrent colors and materials " oh my gosh" she wispered she took some of them out the closet

but what was weird to her is that the clothes din't add up with the time line because there were some clothes from the 1880s 1890s and 1900s thill 1910s in there "hmm thats weird oh wel never mind a dress is a dress after all" she took a dress from the late 1880s and a pair of shoes and started to undress

Y/n was suprised with how well it fitted the corset wasn't to tight and she could move freely "it must be faith" she giggled "now lets see what els there is to find"

Y/n aproched the desk that stood in the corner of the room, she sat down in the chair and opend one of the drawers and was greated by art suplise "oh wow" she opend an other one and in there wer some hard cover books y/n grabed one and opend it, it was a portrait of jon then y/n remembered a dream she had once but the thing is that it wasn't a dream but a memory she sat in the garden sketching jon while he sat in the shadows reading a book.

"I really am the rencarnation, my love" she wispered

An hour went by and y/n went down stairs for dinner

"Ah my dear do you Enjoy your new room?"

"Oh its absolutly perfect i love it thank you"

"Its alright dear, now come on lets get dinner i bet that you are starving"

"Jon i got a question"

"Yes"

"What if im in deed a rencarnation of your late wife what then?"

"Then i wil make you imortal so that we could live together forever"

She looked at him '"jon c.. can i kiss you?"

"Of course"

Y/n stood on her tiptoes and placed her lips on his, memories from her past life came back to her "Oh my God i remember everything"

"I thought you died A long long time ago" jon cried softly

"I did but i got a second chance and i promice that this time it Wil be forever"

"Glad to know that dear" he huged her "now comeone lets have dinner"

And both of them knew now that no matter what they will be there for echoter the end

I hope you enjoyed reading 😊

[passionate-reply]

What would Great Albums be, if not for defenses of albums lots of people hate? SPK’s Machine Age Voodoo is, of course, one of those albums, being the attempt of a noisy, drony early industrial group to make synthy disco magic. Did they succeed? Well, maybe not--but at least it’s interesting. Find out more by watching the video, or checking out the transcript under the break!

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! This time, I will be once again be coming to the defence of an album that’s been very divisive: Machine Age Voodoo by SPK, first released in 1984. Earlier in the 1980s, SPK had distinguished themselves as one of the most prominent figures of the nascent “noise music” movement, alongside acts like NON and Throbbing Gristle. Just two years before Machine Age Voodoo, they released their arguable magnum opus: Leichenschrei, an album that eschewed a traditional tracklisting, featured the mutilated visage of a victim of napalm burns on its cover, and sounded something like this:

Music: “Seite ((Klono))” / “Napalm (Terminal Patient)”

With their follow-up to Leichenschrei, SPK would take their sound in a very different direction. They abandoned the harsh, buzzing textures and nauseous, whirring drones of their earlier work, and set out in a remarkably more pop direction. While Machine Age Voodoo features verses and choruses, brighter synth textures, and winsome slap basslines, it still maintains a certain “industrial” identity, tying it into the same overarching web of related styles that SPK’s earlier work fell under. This album reminds me a bit of Depeche Mode’s mid-80s output, such as Some Great Reward, in its incorporation of both synth-pop structures as well as some accents of mechanistic clangs and bangs. Depeche Mode and SPK were, of course, passing by one another after coming from opposite directions on this spectrum, but the end results remain comparable.

Music: “Junk Funk” / “Machine Age Voodoo”

Listening to the album’s stomping opener, titled “Junk Funk” on most releases but made into the title track for the US market, I’m struck by just how upbeat of a track it is. Where many industrial acts are keen to portray modern labour as a punishing, soul-sucking, miserable endeavour, “Junk Funk” seems to make it into something of a party. Given that even Depeche Mode were penning tracks like “Everything Counts” with a dour outlook on capitalism, the seemingly playful aura surrounding this single really sets it apart--though not necessarily in a good way. As I mentioned earlier, *Machine Age Voodoo* has consistently been panned by fans of the group’s more aggressive earlier work, and I think the album’s affinities with light-hearted, and perhaps even silly, post-disco pop make it all the more easy to write off as ridiculous and asinine. But much like simply being in a style you don’t care for isn’t a reason to lambaste a work of art, simply being lighter in tone is no reason to reject something. Not all great art needs to be stone-serious, after all! While Machine Age Voodoo may not be a continuation of the classic SPK sound, I think it’s an album that has plenty of appeal for fans of lighter synth-pop, and one that I wish had managed to achieve a bit more renown among those who might be a bit more receptive to its style.

Naturally, the title of the album and the themes of its sometime title track invite us to consider the role that appropriation of “primitive” themes has to play. Ever since industrialization and colonialism began to create large separations between the lifestyles of “the West and the rest,” Western artists from Picasso to Gauguin have found themselves fascinated by so-called “primitive” ways of life, found among communities of colour whom they believed to live closer to the natural or archaic state of humankind, uncorrupted by capitalism. But followers of the religion sometimes known as “Voodoo” are living in the modern world as much as anyone else is, and the use of their faith as a symbol of barbarism or the unrestrained id here is presumptuous at best, and bigoted at worst--particularly given the reference to “funk,” a music style that, like Voodoo, is strongly associated with Black culture. The love for things “primitive” has served an important cultural role in the West, offering an apparent alternative to the crushing death spiral of capitalism, and serving as an outlet for questioning the assumed status quo and the truth of human nature--but at the same time, I think we can fairly criticize it for offering a stereotyped and tokenized view of cultures outside of the West. Machine Age Voodoo offers another, very different, perspective on the Other on its second track, “With Love From China.”

Music: “With Love From China”

Compared to “Junk Funk,” “With Love From China” is distinguished as one of the album’s more plaintive and less dancefloor-oriented tracks, and, in contrast to “Junk Funk”’s joyful embrace of “high technology hoodoo,” “With Love From China” portrays the titular Communist power as something quite sinister. While a simple read of the lyrics suggests that it may be a triumphant hymn to the state, the track’s plodding, dirgelike melody makes it hang like an ominous cloud instead. Arguably the most successful state to be built upon Marxist ideals, China is a prominent feature of lots of early 80s synth-pop, where it and other Communist states saw varying portrayals as anywhere from dystopian to utopian. Like the appropriation of “voodoo” earlier, the dread romanticism applied to China by SPK on this track says more about them than it does about China itself. I think both tracks, taken together, paint a picture of a sort of “anywhere but here” ideology, defined less by any strong feelings for these particular cultures, and more by a desire for an escape to the exotic, and an abandonment of all that is sick about the West. Overall, though, “With Love From China” isn’t necessarily a fair representation of the average track on Machine Age Voodoo, as the album consists mostly of higher-energy tracks, like “Metal Dance.”

Music: “Metal Dance”

Perhaps the track most clearly aimed at nightclub rotation, “Metal Dance” feels like a logical choice for the album’s first single. Less of a pop tune and more of a floorfiller, “Metal Dance” still hums with industrial touches, propelled by clunking metallic percussion and chant-like shouts that prefigure the synthesis of machine music and club fare that EBM acts like Nitzer Ebb would achieve later in the 1980s. With its succinct title and a compelling hook that implores us to “synthesize our dreams away,” “Metal Dance” almost feels like a love letter to the sheer concept of electronic music for dancing to--a consummate paean to the discotheque, even if it comes from what may seem like an unlikely, and perhaps dishonest, source. A similar embrace of dance music qua dance music is found on “High Tension.”

Music: “High Tension”

If “Metal Dance” sounds like a preview of later industrial dance genres like EBM, then “High Tension” feels like a throwback to the first attempts to “synthesize” an electronic disco, with its dense, complex production style, prominent bass, and lyrics that promote “danc[ing] ‘til you drop” as a response to “bad times.” Despite its compelling use of a well-textured vocoder, “High Tension” veers away from the worship of the machine that was central to “Metal Dance,” and its straightforward celebration of dancing itself makes it feel like the most likely genuine crossover hit on the album--not that it really had any. It’s also worth noting that the track’s bridge contains an early reference to “hip-hop,” back when artists like Man Parrish were freely using the term to describe club-friendly electro that didn’t necessarily include rapping. Times have changed, of course, but I think “High Tension” fits right in with other works in that style--even if, again, it comes from a group that nobody would have expected to make music like this!

On the cover of Machine Age Voodoo, we see a fantasy cityscape, defined by a massive tower crowned with the band’s name accompanied by a Communist-inspired red star. It’s as firmly removed from the vile and shocking imagery of Leichenschrei as the music contained within. But, just as the music has retained some degree of industrial sentiments, the cover is not without its own sense of subversion--it is, after all, apparently enshrining the ostensibly dangerous, foreign ideology of Communism!

It’s tempting to compare this image to the futuristic imagery of Fritz Lang’s classic silent film, Metropolis, particularly given that there’s also a track on the album that shares that title. But I think that the visual style employed here, with its blocky, cubistic rendering of form and lively use of diagonals to enrich its composition, is perhaps more reminiscent of the work of the Russian avant-garde of the 1910s. Even before the Russian Revolution, pioneering abstract artists, like the “Rayonist” Natalia Goncharova, were looking towards the exciting potential of the future, and making art that celebrated the beauty of machines in motion. The early abstraction of painters like Goncharova would go on to influence the abstract art associated with the early days of the Soviet Union, which makes it a particularly fitting affinity given the themes of Machine Age Voodoo.

After Machine Age Voodoo, SPK never returned to making more melodic music--perhaps unsurprisingly, given the album’s simultaneous failure to achieve crossover success, or retain the interest of their existing fanbase. They returned in 1986 with Zamia Lehmanni: Songs of Byzantine Flowers, an album of dark ambient music that avoided slavishly copying earlier works like Leichenschrei, while still feeling like a worthy continuation of the spirit in which they had begun their career.

Music: “Invocation to Secular Heresies”

My favourite track on Machine Age Voodoo is “Seduction,” which is easy to overlook as it actually only appeared on the US release of the album. “Seduction” is striking for its blatant, wantonly sexual lyricism, which, when combined with SPK vocalist Sinan Leong’s competently sultry vocal style, recalls the best work of the experimental disco outfit Gina X Performance. And much like Gina X Performance, there’s a bit of subversively queer gender-bending to be had here, as a male backing vocalist repeats Leong’s line, “you call yourself a man?” I think that may be unintentional, a sort of happy accident, but I love it nonetheless. That’s all I have for today--thanks for listening!

Music: “Seduction”

[theyanderespecialist]

Sound Of The Devil~ 3 (Mini Series) Cajun Accented Human Alastor X OC Marie (Hazbin Hotel)

[Hello My Sexy Readers, back with another chapter this one is not so much smut but more plot this whole Sound Of The Devil~ It is now sort of a mini series. We hope you all enjoy where this is going!]

(Alastors pov)

I had one of the best sleeps I had in all my years, well since my mother that is. I smile, going to pull Marie even closer when I suddenly felt nothing as I shot up.

"Cher?! Cher where are yous? Cher!'" I yelled before seeing her outside as I ran out as she turned to me, she looked like she had been crying.

"Al..? What..." I was pissed. "Da heyll you think yous doing? Cher if you'd think you'd can run--" I was cut off when she ran to me sobbing, holding me as she sobbed.

"I-It felt so r-real I-I thought you chased me..I-I thought your use for me was up, S-So you tried to kill me.." she said sobbing.

(Oh come on how you gonna be pissed, look at the poor thing well least now he doesn't have to break her kegs)

(XD Yup no broken legs here XD)

(XD For Now)

(XD)

I wrapped my arms around her and stroke her hair. "Cher." I say. "No I nevur will tire of ya or hurt ya yur the belle of ma ball, the sweetness ta ma honey, the sugar ta ma spice. Ya are ma world mawn Ange and I will nevur tire of ya."

(Again shuddering XD)

(he probably don't even like honey because it's sweet xD And god I feel that)

(XD Yup)

She let out a whimper as she held onto me tighter as she sobbed as I realized she wasn't dressed save for the stockings she fell asleep in, she didn't even bother with shoes.

"Cher Didja sleepwalk all ta way out here? Yous know tats dangerous."

"I-I just know I had a dream..and woke up out here- please don't be mad " she said her voice shaking as she held in tighter

"Oh Cher~ I could nevuh be mad at ya. come on now, we will mousy on up ta the bath and get ya as clean as a whistle, cher~"

I picked her up, holding her close as I walked up the porch stairs and into the house, up to the bath as she still held me as I placed her on the counter as she grabbed a cloth for her makeup along with some cleanser before she stopped.

"What's wrong Cher?" "...No one but my parents have seen me without makeup..."

(oh that's some serious confidence issues But I don't I don't let joesph see me without makeup I think it's happened 2 times)

(GLOMPS)

"Cher ya are the most beautiful woman. I don care if ya have no make up." I tell her and help her wipe off her face. "There is that purty face, I was righ you are a true belle with or withou make up."

(Beauty)

She looked down at that as she did try to hide her face but I wouldn't let her. "Besides Cher, ya can't go wearing makeup in ta bed." I said kissing her as I moved my hands down, unclasping the garter straps from her stockings.

(that's what you think beside yes I have slept in full face of makeup before because of my insecurities)

(I believe it GLOMPS AGAIN)

She blushed darkly and I fell the tub with nice perfect hot water and bubble bath. I then light some candles and roll down her stockings slowly and then take off the garter. After that I get her in the bath and then climb in with her after taking off my undergarments and pulling her on my lap in the tub. She blushed darkly and I stroke her sides kissing the back of her neck.

"Le me take care of ya cher." I say and I wash her like the goddess she is.

I held her close to me as her face was still red.

"Cher..I hope ya forgive me for tat bruise. Ah didn't mean ta hit ya as hard as ah had, ah panicked, it won't happen again" I said as she slowly leaned back into me.

"I-It is okay.." She says. "Just promise you will never hurt me."

"I promise, cher."

(well unless he has to xD)

(XD Yeah XD)

I hold her close as she seemed nervous and something on her mind.

"Wats wrong mah belle?"

"....I don't understand how you find me attractive.. especially with my body.."

(Well I mean I feel that by the time she started coming into being a woman her body was not the ideal like my body works better for vintage after the 40s and 1910s but the 20s and 30s there were a few curvy and busty girls but the most popular look was the flat chest and slender body which looks amazing but xD I can't have that body)

(Mmmm hmmm)

"Cause it is you Cher~" I say and move my hands to her breasts. "Yur not as flat as a damn bored and I hav to say I luv laying my head awn your chest belle~ like the sweet rest~ dere are yur hips nice and gradable to the touch more of ya to luv~ this firm tush~ which I luv for ya to sit on ma face while I pleasure ya with ma mouth~ The Idea of dese thighs clamping around ma hips and neck~ Pulling me deeper into ya~ It is enough to make a grown man swoon Mawn Ange~ Not ta mention ya make me sweat in the passion like a sinner in church~"

She blushed darkly as she turned around in my arms as her hands rested on my shoulders as her hands held my face. I smiled and pulled her down into a kiss. I will spend the rest of my days making her feel like the beautiful woman she is~

She kissed me back as her hands run down my body as she arched into me as I felt my face burn. Despite the fact I initiated the first time, for her to initiate it..

"Alastor. Darling~ tell me~" she started, her hands gripping me.

"Y-Yeah cher?"

"What is it you want to do to me, if it was possible to do anything what would you do~" she asked looking at me, her eyes heavily lidded and her voice getting heavy with her accent, it actually took me a few moments to understand what she was implying as she leaned down biting my neck

"First off I marry ya~ then sexually I like being in control rough luv making spanking, bondage and oh so much more Cher~"

(wait for it

"I don't know how my parents would feel about their little girl marrying- you never met my parents." She said suddenly. Shit.

"Uh well--"

"you gotta meet them."

(her plan to get him and her out of the house or him distracted by her parents so she can leave xD)

(But like he will let that work XD No he is bound an determined~)

"Than we shall meat them." I say. "It will be a great time."

She smiled and nodded snuggling into me oh boy what am I gonna do she has me wrapped around her little finger.

[Wooo plans are set in motion and now we are moving the plot forward. I hope you all enjoyed and stay sexy all our friends!]

[ziracona]

Ok so I don’t know how but it took you spelling out Phil and Vigo’s relationship and now it’s all I’ve been able to think about because?? The tragedy of it all??? And I was just wondering if you had any extra info about their relationship that you’d be willing to share? Cause honestly it sounds simultaneously so cute and so heart-wrenching and I am HERE for it. For real, every time I learn something new about the world of ILM I love it even more, thank you so much for that piece of perfection!

Oh absolutely!

I am very tempted to start posting the chunks of Signifying Nothing I already have but I am simultaneously like “But you know you’d have to update slower rn” and so I keep balking, especially since I am writing New Dawn Fades too rn :’-] — We shall see. Anway! I am sorry it took so long to answer this I had a massive project I only finally finished this afternoon (I’m dying), but I have been very excited abt this because I adore Vigo so much!

Ahhh Vigo and Philip. They really said “Sooo...enemies to lovers speedrun?” And then did so fast they claimed a new high score.

I am not sure what specifically you’d like to know about (feel free to ask specifics if there are some! :D ) so I am just gonna throw out some random facts.

Vigo is from Norway, in the 1910s-30s originally. Philip from Nigeria in the 1960s-1970s, then Wisocnsin in the early 80s, so while they’re both gay men, it was never safe for either of them to be out. They also lived in fairly isolated places and were the only people like themselves they knew. This lead to them, once they were already traveling together in the realm for other reasons, having the most awkward flirting style. You know that “Bro, it’s just a dream”—“*nervously* Yeah I’m not gay, I wouldn’t fuck you”—“...You wouldn’t? :’ (“ “...I mean, unless you wanted to.” Vine? Both of them trying to figure out if the other likes men and/or them. They both think they can be subtle. They can’t. Just the other one is so fucking paranoid and anxious about this whole sitch the net effect is the same.

They are both fools who follow their gut instincts irrationally, but this worked out really well for them because if they weren’t the both would have killed the other during their first two real interactions.

They are super in love. They were so in love that even after ILM, when Vigo is both dead and someone Philip can’t even remember, he is still in love with him so much that he’s going to spend the rest of his life with him, whether that means trying to find a way to the realm again and the void just in case, or simply living how Vigo died in the hopes he’d get to, and spending quiet days talking to his ghost.

Vigo’s original character goal and life purpose on Signifying Nothing is the take the Entity down/beat it and to save everyone in the realm. Philip’s original character goal is to simply be allowed to live an okay life where the violence stops and he neither hurts nor is hurt by others, and maybe is happy sometimes—he just wants to be a decent man. Vigo dies and fails to obtain his own goal utterly, and basically achieves the opposite, as does Philip. Extremely cruelly. In In Living Memory, or rather, In Living Memory itself, is a manuscript Vigo puts together as a husk in the void, memorializing the events in the realm, and fulfilling Philip’s goal for him—carving into reality the truth he is a decent man who just wanted to not hurt or be heart, and giving immportal remembered meaning to that. As well as recording his eventual happiness with his new family. It ends once Vigo’s goals are assured (Philip is really going to be both happy and alright), and his connection to them outside the realm is failing and he won’t be able to observe anymore. Similarly, Philip throws away his own goals and future, and completes Vigo’s character arc for him, sacrificing himself in Memento Mori to achieve Vigo’s goal—beating the Entity and saving everyone in the realm—for him in his stead. A grand fate far beyond what Philip would have picked for himself.

But in the end, they both achieve the others’ life goal for them, since they could not do it themselves, and in doing so, kind of fulfil their own. Philip gives up everything to fight and win, and in doing so, finds a happy life to go home to. Vigo records Philip’s journey and everyone else’s and in doing so becomes the direct inspiration and motivation for the eventual escape of everyone in the realm. So. In simple terms. In loving Philip, Vigo does find a way to save everyone after all. And in loving Vigo, Philip finds life as a good man who many days gets to be happy.

I am gonna go cry now.

Uhhhhh what else. I’m really tempted to kinkshame Vigo but I’m not gonna do it right now. I will say his dumb ass spent like a whole week with Philip, who was armed with his sickle and not pretending not to be a killer, just conpletely obliviously believing him to be a rando, because Vigo has a great mind but only if the focus setting is switched on and sadly he does not control the focus choices.

Philip is much taller than Vigo because he’s seven feet tall and Vigo is Norwegian so he keeps trying to convince me he’s “no no actually 5’12””, but I am 99% sure that’s a lie and he’s actually 5’9”.

Vigo is a terrifyingly good fighter. He conjours things out of the fog really well. His main item is a summonded like made from light drum because he came here trying to function as a noadi to help the people captured by an evil spirit. It looks like a shield bc of the size and shape, so most people assume it is, and that was kind of meant to be its purpose, but it gets used as an offensive weapon waaay more (I mean, he’s here to fight spiritual warfare what do you epect from the man?). Philip, who runs around with a scythe, like, the most death-lookin weapon of all, uses his sickle for primarily defense/as a shield. This makes them very funny to watch but also extremely formidable as a tag-team in battle.

Even though Norwegian is not a super affectionate langaube interestingly, and kind of the opposite, Vigo is a very quickly affectionate person by nature and is very liberal with the terms of endearment. This used to annoy Alex and Benedict, but like, in the way where a friend annoys you but you kind of don’t really hate it. Philip really liked it. Vigo used to call him Kjære a lot.