#would become an astronaut just to bring and gift her a star

[taegularities]

Cmi jungkook the type to promise the world to oc and give everyone an eviction notice to leave earth

HELP THIS IS FKN FUNNY AND SO TRUE JFKDUDHSHS

[sencrose]

— WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?

pairing: naoya zenin x f!reader, implied feelings involving naomaki

tags: dead dove do not eat. dubcon, angst?, reader is described as having a similar appearance to maki (mostly in hairstyle), incestuous undertones, physical abuse (against maki, sorry queen) established relationship, throatfucking, no prep, rough sex, pain during sex, (condescending) praise, hair pulling, internalized misogyny

wc: 3.2k

summary: You do not know what your husband sees in you. For better or worse, you learn.

a/n: back on my writing horrible things about naoya bullshit!! ngl this was weird to write but i also had a lot of fun with it. big thank you to @blueparadis for beta reading this for me <3 please read the tags and proceed with caution. ao3 link here

tagging: @pixelcafe-network @jellyfishsart

You do not know what your husband sees in you. 

It is not that you are without merit, but you are, simply put, plain. A weed in a field of flowers in full bloom. The diet that follows after a bad bout of the stomach flu. A satellite in the night sky that might be mistaken for a star — until it glides past far too quickly to be one, much to an onlooker’s disappointment. 

You know what power the Zen’in clan holds. The kind of power where even the most upstanding of sons will poison their fathers just for a taste. The paranoia that comes with it, the rumors of potential traitors whispered between paper doors is enough to keep anyone on edge. 

With all of that in mind, you know in your heart of hearts you are not the type of person the next head of the clan would pursue. 

Yet you were told he picked you out by hand, out of the dozens of matchmaking papers given to him. Applicants that began and ended on ink, their names, birthdays, and occupations, were discarded without a care of who they were, or who they could have been. 

What an honor, you were told. 

So you packed up your things with a judgemental eye, preparing yourself for the worst when you arrive. Would they let you keep a stuffed animal that was a birthday gift from a friend, or is that too childish? What about this shirt — is it conservative enough or will it bring unwanted attention?

You left most things behind. 

—

Every now and then, you recall a conversation you had with your mother shared over a plate of cut fruit, shortly before you received the news from the Zen’in clan. It comes to you whenever you see the young girls rushing through the corridors, hands holding a stack of sheets that tower over them. 

“Do you have any dreams?” she asked, carving the skin of an apple, the crimson peel spiraling under her skillful thumb, “Ambitions?”

She tended to ask this now and then. It’s natural, you assumed; a mother’s desire to know anything and everything there is to know about their child. 

It’s hard to remember or keep track of all the answers you’ve given her. All you know is that they’ve become less ambitious over the years. From huffing your chest out and saying you’ll be an astronaut who lives out in the stars with the profound confidence only a child could have, to something less spectacular, more mundane. 

You didn’t have much luck becoming a sorcerer, which shrunk your options. Maybe you’d go to school. Maybe get a degree, get some kind of corporate job, waste your life away in a gray office cubicle. 

But none of those are dreams. Obligations, perhaps.

“No, not really,” you replied, detached from the conversation. It was the truth. 

She patted you on the back, comfortingly. “Ah, that’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.”

You still don’t know what she meant by that, but you also made no effort to ask for clarification. The words simmered low and steady until it burned and branded itself in your head.

As if to pull you out of your thoughts, your mother handed you a slice, an offering. Despite her words, you wondered if it was consolation. 

—

Even after some time has passed since your arrival, you do not know what your husband sees in you. You’re not sure he sees you at all. 

His touch is few and far between. 

To your surprise, on the night of your wedding you did not consummate your marriage. It happened two weeks after, and it was not what you expected from someone who had supposedly picked you out on his own accord. 

It was anything but gentle. You learned quickly that Naoya Zen’in is not a patient man.

Rough hands were grabbing anywhere, everywhere. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to devour you. 

Nothing placated him. When you gazed up at him teary-eyed with soft pleas to go slower, you only made things worse. Hands grabbed onto your form to flip you over, push your face into the sheets so he didn’t have to hear your protests. Fingers pressed deep into the dip of your waist, so hard you worried about bruises forming (they did). 

Once he got what he wanted out of you, he tossed you to the side. As if you were some random girl he just happened to pick up for the night, someone he hoped would be gone come morning. 

As if you weren’t his wife. 

It was the first time in a long time that you realized, maybe, you had wants. Desires. To do something instead of having something done onto you. 

But your mother’s words haunt you. 

You don’t want to be greedy. 

—

For the first time since arriving at the estate, you have a hint of what your husband sees in you.

You don’t think you’re supposed to see it. You don’t think you’re supposed to be here at all.  

A girl lies on the floor of the open courtyard, her head underneath Naoya’s heel.

It’s like looking into a mirror, though a bit distorted. The image is similar, but the puzzle pieces filling in the gaps are all different.

Her hair is much like yours, though the strands that frame her face hang like blades, sharpened, ready to cut anyone who gets too close. 

You don’t have that type of intensity around you. The pieces of hair that frame your face soften your features. Wispy, uncertain shapes that blow away with the slightest puff of wind. 

The similarities start and end there. 

Though she’s younger than you, she wears a hardened expression, one you always thought would come to you with age. You realize now that you must’ve had it easy when you see how she wears it like it’s all she’s ever known. 

Although you go unnoticed by your husband, the girl acknowledges your presence. Her gaze meets yours, fury ablaze in her eyes, along with something else you don’t recognize. Your legs react before you even realize, taking a step back. 

Even with her body pressed into the ground in submission, you can tell she is anything but. It’s written candidly on her face, teeth bared to the world, begging for flesh to dig into.

Your husband must be a blind fool. Even you can see from a distance that she’s a wild animal in human form, just waiting for a chance to break the chains of her enclosure. You feel it in her stare, how she strips you down to a state even Naoya hasn’t witnessed. You don’t like it. How her eyes hone in on you like a lion staring down its prey.

Then again, would you even be considered prey? Even a rabbit has a fighting chance at running away. You do not know how to run. Not towards a goal, and certainly not away from danger.

But you can still walk. Walk while you can and you can forget you’ve ever seen this. Stuff it back in the recesses of your mind, back where you wrote off wants and desires and greed all those years ago.

You don’t walk away fast enough.

When you hear her name slip from your husband’s lips, your stomach freefalls. 

You haven’t been at the estate for long, but you know of her. Everyone does. You just never had the chance to put a name to a face. Maki Zen’in, one half of the clan disappointment, alongside her twin sister. It goes without saying that you also know of the ties that connect them.

You know your husband is a cruel man. He has to be; it’s practically a requirement for someone of his power and status. But it’s hard to watch when it’s laid out so plainly in front of you. Even so, you stay.

You watch with a tightness in your chest as he pulls her up by the base of her ponytail before throwing her back onto the ground, gravel and dust dispersed in the air from the impact.

Anger lights a fire in his eyes. No matter what he does, he doesn’t seem to get the reaction he wants, or much of a reaction at all. She takes it in stride, only emitting hushed grunts when he kicks her. While you flinch at the volume of his voice rising, she boldly sneers at his frustration.

You meet her eyes again. 

She laughs. 

It isn’t to piss off Naoya. No, it’s directed at you. The bystander who’ll go on with her day like nothing ever happened, even after witnessing the horrific abuse doled out at the hands of her husband.

Even though she doesn’t hold an ounce of cursed energy in her veins, you know what she thinks of you. You hear it in the dry chuckle she lets out before Naoya kicks her again.

You’re cursed. 

How pitiful. 

—

You’re sure he’s ranting about something, maybe something Naobito did, but you can’t bring yourself to listen to him. All you can think about is the girl in the courtyard, with an ire in her eyes you’ve never seen before. When was the last time you looked like that? Felt something so intense it radiated off of your very being, so bright and radiant it couldn’t be ignored? Have you ever had that kind of fighting spirit in you?

A stagnant silence brings you back. You vacantly stare back at your husband. It was your turn to speak for once. You perk up at the opportunity, though you’re unsure how to seize it.

“Sorry. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“Well that’s the thing, isn’t it? You don’t need to say anything. C’mere.”

He pulls you in closer, his hand petting your head. It’s the only time he shows any semblance of gentleness, a cruel way of lulling you into a false sense of security. You know what comes next. His hand presses against your head, lower, lower, until you’re nestled against his crotch. Naoya looks at you, expectantly. 

Your fingers wrap around the cotton ties that hold his hakama pants, pulling with a tug. From there, the fabric falls easily, more so once you reach around his waist to undo the tension from the straps. 

You steel yourself to do what you’ve always done, though something sits in the back of your mind. 

You get him to groan with a long stroke of your tongue on the underside of his cock. Build yourself up to taking his entire length into his mouth, inch by dreadful inch, but it’s hard. By the time you swallow him whole, you can feel his tip pressing against the back of your throat. You do your best to service him at a pace he’d be satisfied with, one you know is out of your skillset, dribbling spit and coughing softly whenever you go too deep.

But Naoya isn’t satisfied. He’s impatient, his fingers weaving through your hair, pulling tight before he quickens your pace to his own liking. It’s something you still haven’t gotten used to. The burning in your eyes, the gross wet sounds that leave your mouth as he bobs your head up and down like a toy.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. Take me in so well, don’t you?” His grip around your hair tightens.

He continues recklessly fucking your throat, ignoring all of the choked cough and garbled yelps you let out whenever he hits the back of your throat. All you can do is take it, ball your fists and fold your thumbs in, and hope that trick you learned about reducing your gag reflex isn’t just some urban legend.

Naoya removes yourself from him as roughly as he places you onto him. The rush of air is both a welcome one and sudden change, and you gasp and cough at the sensation.

“Wife,” He brandishes the title like a weapon, the blade of a dagger pressed against your neck.

“Tie your hair up for me, won’t you?” he poses it as a question, but you know you have no choice in the matter. 

Time freezes.

Your eyes shift and you find yourself fiddling with your fingers, hoping he will change his mind if you look up at him with a disarming plea in your eyes, but his gaze does not falter. His eyes only get darker, a dangerous amber that glows like a warning sign in the lowlight of your shared chamber, as he awaits you to fulfill his request. 

Maybe your husband doesn’t see you, but you have always seen him for who he is, even if you didn’t want to admit it. It shines more than ever, when he tilts his head and the corners of his lips upturn. A snake carefully wrapping itself around a rat, just one good squeeze away from keeping you in his clutches forever. Once again, you’re trapped and frozen with nowhere to go. Unfortunately, you play your part well without trying.

You shouldn’t be surprised. It probably runs in their blood.

Slowly, you tie your hair up, strands spilling between your fingertips as you pick them up again, gathering and pulling through the hair only halfway through the elastic, an unstable, floppy bun.

You don’t want to be greedy.

A ghost of unspoken words from your mother whispers against your ear, and maybe if you caught on a bit sooner, things would be different. What was she trying to tell you? What did she hold behind her tongue so cautiously?

Because that’s not how I raised you?

Because that’s not a woman’s place?

Because that’s not what makes a good wife?

But none of it sounds quite right.

And though the thoughts swirl and cloud your head, something else rings bright and clear through the murkiness. 

You want. You want to be wrong. You want it with an intensity you’ve never felt before in your life, a desire clawing its way out of your chest, desperate to see the light of day. 

It’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.

Naoya gently tugs on the loop of hair with his fingers, almost intimately, and it makes your stomach curl. He pulls apart the strands in half to tighten it, until a ponytail reminiscent of the one you saw earlier today sits on top of your head. 

It is only in this moment the clouds in your mind disperse, the addendum your mother wanted to add clear as day.

Because all you will be left with is disappointment.

Even though you’re filled with unease, you follow his lead because it’s all you’ve ever known. He pulls on the waistband of your skirt before pushing his hand against your back, getting you in position to arch for him. 

His fingers drag against your slit, before sliding two of them inside your hole, ignoring any initial resistance. Another thing you learned about your husband is that he’s a determined man; to your dismay, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t fit, he’ll make it fit. Even the stretch of his digits is uncomfortable, scissoring them inside you just to hear you whine under his touch. You wince when he withdraws them, tighten up when you feel something hot and hard pressed against you.

There’s no getting used to his size. Even if he took the time to prepare you properly, you’re sure it would still hurt – if not at the initial penetration, then at the frenzied thrusts that come shortly after. His plump cockhead nudges teasingly against your hole, poking and proding before pulling away. He likes to keep you on your toes, hear you whimper when he surprises you a rough thrust. 

Something about him seems more impatient than usual.

He pushes himself into you, and you bite down on your lip as he splits your walls apart in one swift movement. Over the course of your marriage, you’ve learned to wait out the pain, keep your breathing steady until he starts to move. But his pace never stays slow for long. It’s only a short moment before his hips slam into yours faster and you have to weave through the sheets and grip for stability.

“Naoya, ‘s too much,” you whine, voice high pitched and on the edge of sounding needy.

Without warning his hands wrap around your ponytail and he pulls tight. The sharp pain makes you wince, arch your back until you’re pressed flush against his chest.

“Talking back, are we?” he quips back.

“No, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, hushed and quiet. 

You don’t think he accepts your apology, not when he tugs a bit harder and gives you a thrust so deep it knocks the air out of your lungs. Whether he accepts it or not, he’s still enjoying himself. You hear it in the groans he lets out whenever he hits you deep inside and you moan at the impact, feel it in the way his other hand kneads your breast before giving your nipple a tug.

“You like this, don’t you?”

You wonder if his words are actually directed towards you, but you don’t think too hard about your response, falling back on your default mode of placating him.

“Mhm,” you hum softly.

“Then you won’t mind if I go harder, right?” he asks, but he doesn’t give you a chance to respond. There’s no smooth transition, he simply goes straight into fucking you harder.

His pace is dizzying, the slap of skin-to-skin echoing throughout the room as he fucks you.

He only gets louder and more desperate as his hips slam into yours. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this before. It makes your mind race, makes you wonder if he’s holding back his tongue to call out another name whenever he hums a bit too long in pleasure. Each sound he makes causes your heart to skip in terror and anticipation, but you never hear it. Still, it trembles. 

“Be a bit louder for me, ok?” he whispers in the shell of your ear. His hand traces down from your chest to your waist, lower until it reaches your aching clit. “I’ll even treat you tonight.”

The unexpected contact pushes you further into him, sends a shiver of tension up your spine. You don’t want to admit the pleasure boiling up in you, not like this, but your body doesn’t give you much of a choice. Your lips are the first line of defense to fall, high pitched moans you don’t recognize spilling so easily, naturally, as if it’s water leaking from a faucet.

Maybe he thinks you’re enjoying yourself just a bit too much, because the grip on your hair tightens once again. But it doesn’t stop the rush of warmth building up in your stomach, from your muscles tightening to prepare for your impending climax.

“Nao, I’m close, I’m close-”

Shame washes over you along with your orgasm, walls fluttering against his cock, as he fucks you through it. Naoya’s own climax follows shortly after yours, his hips thrusting harder until he stills with a shaky groan. 

Only once he removes himself from you, you collapse on to the bed, body spent. You cautiously reach for the hair tie, looking over at Naoya as you pull it out with a soft tug. He doesn’t stop you. 

You know what your husband sees in you.

You wish you didn’t see it too. 

[tranzfalgar]

okay it’s time for some stardew valley headcanons for the bachelor/ette(s) so let’s GOOOO

Alex:

- he always awakes before his grandparents, and on warmer days he’ll go down to the beach to watch the sunrise.

- friends with elliot! the two of them sit on the side of the dock sometimes and just chat about life.

- knows how to make cookies, as evelyn taught him when he was a bit younger

- wary of the saloon, as he doesn’t really like the smell of alcohol and only goes into it if he’s forced to!

- if you marry him, he can and will pick you up randomly to surprise you while you’re working!

- if married, he will “bench press” your kids once they become toddlers, and it always makes them giggle

- hates the winter and gets cold really easily. on the first day of fall he’s already bundled up wanting it to be summer again.

Elliot:

- willy is like a father to him. the two of them sit on the docks and watch the fish swim by together

- sometimes he’ll braid his hair, and leah will bring flowers from the forest and weave them into his hair.

- has a rlly pretty singing voice, and likes to record piano covers in his spare time

- if you marry him and the two of u have kids, he’ll always braid their hair in the morning and tuck flowers behind their ears.

- he brings home fresh fish he caught and makes himself dinner every night. that’s why he’s an excellent cook.

- has actually caught a legendary fish before!

- his eyes change color, they can go from blue to green to brown in the same day. people call them the “prismatic shard of eyes”

Harvey:

- he’s so clumsy that sometimes he’ll even trip over air. due to this, he has little bruises all over his knees and elbows.

- his favorite animals are birds. sometimes he’ll go outside and just give them some bird seed. he loves watching them fly around.

- not only is he fascinated with planes, but he’s also fascinated with the weather. as a kid he used to watch the weather channel, and he dreamed of becoming a weatherman.

- when he needs to focus really hard, he’ll pull his hair back with a headband

- him and his mother were and still are very close, and he writes letters to her at least once a week

- he cannot cook to save his life, but he’s an incredible baker! will make you little treats if you’re friends or married

- he always wears a wristwatch, but the time is always 6 minutes behind. he likes it because it has a plane engraved into the side against his wrist.

Sam:

- he had adhd, and his stims include flapping his hands, tapping his foot and strumming his guitar

- he has a beautiful singing voice, think like wilbur soot but a bit more high pitched?

- the reason he likes cactus fruit so much is because he just plants them and lets them grow. he loves succulents because they don’t give him an allergic reaction!

- cannot play video games for shit. sebastian and abigail have banned him from multi-player games because he just sucks so bad.

- love language is acts of service, simply because he likes singing for people he cares about and doing little things for them!

- if you marry him, he will bring his guitar into the coop and/or barn and sing to the animals. they have learned to run over a greet him, since they love his singing.

- his hair is actually curly, but you’re unable to tell due to how much he gels and straightens his hair.

- has mastered the art of the puppy dog eyes

Sebastian:

- loves the hell out of halloween, but is scared of literally everything. he nearly cried watching a horror movie with sam and abigail.

- really good with a slingshot! so if he were to go into the mines, he would wreck some monsters shit with his slingshot skills

- he had glow in the dark stars on his ceiling, but removed them. he used to love the stars and space, but came to resent them because it was his sisters thing.

- he like…irl blushes. like an anime character. when he’s embarrassed, upset, flustered, his face will go all pink. everyone picks on him for it.

- has/had a crush on most of the towns singles. he is a bisexual disaster and secretly a romantic so….take from that what you will.

- a natural born ginger, but dyes his hair. he also has freckles on his nose! and he has an eyebrow slit because of a scar!!

- for some stupid reason, he takes really good care of his hands? like he always makes sure they don’t get calloused, and his nails are always painted black, despite using his hands all the time for work.

Shane:

- he cannot cook. he burned pasta noodles because he didn’t know you had to put water in the pan.

- he still has a chicken plushie from when he was a baby, and it still sits on his bed. and if he cuddles with it at night? no one needs to know.

- has a huge birthmark on his side shaped like a heart

- really good at mixology, so i think that when joja gets shut down, shane works at the saloon and makes the drinks while gus cooks. he adds a whole new section on the menu!

- friends with sebastian. they paint each other’s nails from time to time, or sit in the rain together and just talk.

- kinda strong as hell? he lifts boxes in joja for work, as well as carrying around jas, so i’m assuming he could just….pick the farmer and his friends up?

- he has the most contagious laugh, it used to be a rare sound, but now that it’s a pretty common occurrence, shane makes people laugh all the time with his own laugh.

Abigail:

- buff. she is buff as hell. her and alex work out together sometimes, since she expressed a desire for adventure. she has picked up sam and sebastian with no warning and thrown them into the ocean

- can talk to animals due to her being the daughter of the wizard! so sometimes she’ll go to marnies farm and just chat with the cows or something

- if she sees a tree, she WILL climb it. she loves it so much, it’s just so adrenaline inducing for her.

- her and sebastian tried to go into the mines before but sam stopped them because it wouldn’t have been very safe. they were all 14.

- trying to learn to play the ukulele with a little help from sam. it’s frustrating, but she really likes the sound of it, and she’s determined as hell.

- absolutely cracked at any and all video games he plays. mario kart? she will kick your ass. animal crossing? her island has 5 stars. pokémon? she always wins. you can’t stop her, she’s too powerful.

- she has glasses, but prefers contacts, since glasses would get in the way of her adventuring.

Emily:

- not only can she sew, but she also makes her own soaps and candles! any form of creation she adores.

- loves flowers, and has a lot of little potted ones in her room. she raises them, gives them little names and personalities, and then brings them to sandy and tells her all about each flower

- she can roller skate, and it’s her preferred method of transportation. she can do a bunch of fun tricks as well!

- has an eyebrow slit

- making cute little baskets of homemade gifts is her favorite thing to do for her friends. sometimes she’ll just leave them on their doorsteps for no reason other than she wants to!

- can SPRINT in heels. like even 6 inch heels she can just RUN and it scares everyone who sees it.

- she loves the sounds of birds chirping in the morning, and she’s able to identify the name of the bird by its chirping and calls

Haley:

- is able to perfectly crack and drink from coconuts. that’s why she loves them so much.

- has the worst sense of direction. she’s lucky she lives in a small town, or she’d get lost all the time

- the spring is her favorite time of year, simply because she loves to capture life coming back in those spring months. baby animals, blooming flowers, her friends on the beach or just chilling in the sun, all of it

- her most prized possession is the very first picture her and emily took as kids on their parents polaroid. it’s taped to her mirror

- has a little beauty mark under her lip, but it normally isn’t visible due to being covered with makeup!

- she’s able to do her own nails! this is because she is ambidextrous, yet she doesn’t know, because it’s never been brought up

- she fucking LOVES learning about and identifying plants, trees and flowers. she knows so many it’s crazy. she has a great memory.

Leah:

- resident true crime enthusiast and ghost hunter. she drags elliot with her around town to go hunting for ghosts. they also watch documentaries together!

- has a bunch of little scars on her hands from her artwork

- to get inspiration for works, she’ll go on walks at different times of the day, different seasons, different routes, and she’ll turn each walk into a work of art. depending on all the environment and those who she runs into, each piece is vastly different.

- animals love her, and will sometimes just follow her around for no reason. she doesn’t mind at all, she kinda loves it.

- friends with emily. they are currently teaching each other their own forms of art, since they love learning from each other!

- really good at dancing, she’ll dance while she’s working on projects and she’ll hum a song to herself

- her favorite statue was created after she went on a walk, ran into abigail, and the two of them went swimming in the ocean and stayed there as the sun set and the stars came out. she has a little crush on abigail.

Maru:

- her hair is ALWAYS tied up, it’s impossible for her to work if her hair is in her eyes

- when she was a kid she wanted to be an astronaut, because she loves the stars, but she found she prefers the science and math behind it all

- she pierced her own ears, she has little star earrings!

- watches cartoons and geeks out about them with penny when they meet up in town!

- for some odd reason, she is terrified of butterflies. no one who knows her, or even maru herself have ANY idea why, but she will run away if she sees one.

- her favorite memory was the one night her and sebastian stayed up really late as kids and snuck outside to look at the stars (back when sebastian still loved them) and they ended up seeing a meteor shower

- she presses flowers as a hobby, and just keeps them in a little notebook alongside her ideas for projects and gadgets.

Penny:

- while she’s cleaning her and pam’s home, she finds herself singing to herself. she has yet to be caught by anyone

- each day, her hair is done ever-so-slightly different. each morning, she likes to change it up, and sometimes jas or vincent will give her something to put in her hair

- also interested in ghosts, will occasionally join elliot and leah on their adventures

- she is naturally really warm, so she doesn’t have to bundle up as much during the winter. the kids cling to her because she’s like a human space heater

- has a bit of a geeky side, and she loves to watch cartoons a lot. when she can find the time, she always watches them. they being her lots of comfort.

- has a small scar on her side from when she tripped over as a child onto something sharp. she likes it because with two freckles, it makes a little smiley face

- loves the water and the feeling of sea wind in her hair. she secretly wants to learn to drive a boat, so she can feel that wind in her hair whenever she wants.

[nasa]

The ranks of America’s Astronaut Corps grew by 11 today!

After completing more than two years of basic training, our graduating class of astronauts is eligible for spaceflight. Assignments include the International Space Station, Artemis missions to the Moon, and ultimately, missions to Mars.

The class includes 11 astronauts, selected in 2017 from a record-setting pool of more than 18,000 applicants. This was more than double the previous record of 8,000 applicants set in 1978.

Meet the graduates:

Kayla Barron

“If you don’t love what you’re doing, you’re not going to be good at it. I think it’s a combination of finding things that you really love that will also be really challenging and will force you to grow along the way.”

This Washington native graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy with a bachelor’s degree in systems engineering. As a Gates Cambridge Scholar, which offers students an opportunity to pursue graduate study in the field of their choice at the University of Cambridge. Barron earned a master’s degree in nuclear engineering.

As a Submarine Warfare Officer, Barron was part of the first class of women commissioned into the submarine community, completing three strategic deterrent patrols aboard the USS Maine.

Zena Cardman

“Every STEM opportunity that I have ever gone down is because of some mentor who inspired me or some student who was ahead of me in school who inspired me.”

Zena Cardman is a native of Virginia and completed a bachelor’s degree in biology and master’s degree in marine sciences at The University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. Her research has focused on microorganisms in subsurface environments, ranging from caves to deep sea sediments.

An intrepid explorer, Cardman’s field experience includes multiple Antarctic expeditions, work aboard research vessels as both scientist and crew, and NASA analog missions in British Columbia, Idaho, and Hawaii.

Raja Chari

“I grew up with the mentality that education is truly a gift not to be taken for granted.”

This Iowa native graduated from the U.S. Air Force Academy in 1999 with bachelor’s degrees in astronautical engineering and engineering science. He continued on to earn a master’s degree in aeronautics and astronautics from Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) and graduated from the U.S. Naval Test Pilot School.

Chari served as the Commander of the 461st Flight Test Squadron and the Director of the F-35 Integrated Test Force. He has accumulated more than 2,000 hours of flight time in the F-35, F-15, F-16 and F-18 including F-15E combat missions in Operation Iraqi Freedom.

Matthew Dominick

“I get to work with incredible people that want to solve problems and are passionate about it. I really want to contribute to the world and this is how I want to do it.”

This Colorado native earned a bachelor’s degree in electrical engineering from the University of San Diego and a master’s degree in systems engineering from the Naval Postgraduate School. He also graduated from U.S. Naval Test Pilot School.

Dominick served on the USS Ronald Reagan as department head for Strike Fighter Squadron 115. He has more than 1,600 hours of flight time in 28 aircraft, 400 carrier-arrested landings and 61 combat missions.

Bob Hines

“As you get older, other things become important to you, like being a part of something that’s bigger than yourself. This human endeavor of exploration is something that’s really exciting.”

Bob Hines is a Pennsylvania native and earned a bachelor’s degree in aerospace engineering from Boston University. He is a graduate of the U.S. Air Force Test Pilot School, where he earned a master’s degree in flight test engineering. He continued on to earn a master’s degree in aerospace engineering from the University of Alabama.

Hines served in the U.S. Air Force and Air Force Reserves for 18 years. He also served as a research pilot at our Johnson Space Center. He has accumulated more than 3,500 hours of flight time in 41 different types of aircraft and has flown 76 combat missions in support of contingency operations around the world.

Warren Hoburg

“It was back in high school that I realized that I was really interested in engineering. I always liked taking things apart and understanding how things work and then I also really enjoy solving problems.”

Nicknamed “Woody”, this Pennsylvania native earned a bachelor’s degree in aeronautics and astronautics from MIT and a doctorate in electrical engineering and computer science from the University of California, Berkeley.

Hoburg was leading a research group at MIT at the time of his selection and is a two-time recipient of the AIAA Aeronautics and Astronautics Teaching Award in recognition of outstanding teaching.

Dr. Jonny Kim

“I fundamentally believed in the NASA mission of advancing our space frontier, all while developing innovation and new technologies that would benefit all of humankind.”

This California native trained and operated as a Navy SEAL, completing more than 100 combat operations and earning a Silver Star and Bronze Star with Combat “V”. Afterward, he went on to complete a degree in mathematics at the University of San Diego and a doctorate of medicine at Harvard Medical School.

Kim was a resident physician in emergency medicine with Partners Healthcare at Massachusetts General Hospital.

Jasmin Moghbeli

“Surround yourself with good people that have the characteristics that you want to grow in yourself. I think if you surround yourself with people like that you kind of bring each other up to a higher and higher level as you go.”

Jasmin Moghbeli, a U.S. Marine Corps major, considers Baldwin, New York, her hometown. She earned a bachelor's degree in aerospace engineering with information technology at MIT, followed by a master’s degree in aerospace engineering from the Naval Postgraduate School.

She is a distinguished graduate of the U.S. Naval Test Pilot School and has accumulated more than 1,600 hours of flight time and 150 combat missions.

Loral O’Hara

“I’m one of those people who have wanted to be an astronaut since I was a little kid, and I think that came from an early obsession with flying – birds, airplanes, rockets.”

This Houston native earned a bachelor’s degree in aerospace engineering at the University of Kansas and a Master of Science degree in aeronautics and astronautics from Purdue University. As a student, she participated in multiple NASA internship programs, including the Reduced Gravity Student Flight Opportunities Program, the NASA Academy at Goddard Space Flight Center, and the internship program at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory.

O’Hara was a research engineer at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, where she worked on the engineering, test and operations of deep-ocean research submersibles and robots. She is also a private pilot and certified EMT and wilderness first responder.

Dr. Frank Rubio

“I just figured it was time to take the plunge and try it. And so, I did and beyond all dreams, it came true.” 

Dr. Francisco “Frank” Rubio, a U.S. Army lieutenant colonel, is originally from Miami. He earned a bachelor’s degree in international relations from the U.S. Military Academy and earned a doctorate of medicine from the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences. 

Rubio served as a UH-60 Blackhawk helicopter pilot and flew more than 1,100 hours, including more than 600 hours of combat and imminent danger time during deployments to Bosnia, Afghanistan, and Iraq. He is also a board certified family physician and flight surgeon.

Jessica Watkins

“I’ve always been interested in exploring space. What’s out there and how can we as humans reach those outer stars and how can we learn more information about who we are through that process.”

This Colorado native earned a bachelor’s degree in geological and environmental sciences at Stanford University, and a doctorate in geology from the University of California, Los Angeles. Watkins has worked at Ames Research Center and the Jet Propulsion Laboratory.

Watkins was a postdoctoral fellow at the California Institute of Technology, where she collaborated on the Mars Curiosity rover, participating in daily planning of rover activities and investigating the geologic history of the Red Planet.

Learn more about the new space heroes right here: https://www.nasa.gov/newastronauts

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com.

[lonestarpost]

April 26, 2021~ Masterlist ~ Issue 12

Episode Review

by @lonestarbabe​

9-1-1: Lone Star’s ninth episode of season two breaks the hiatus with one of the season’s strongest episodes; in this episode,  the showrunners prioritize quality storytelling (many thanks to writer Tonya Kong), and while the episode focuses heavily on past events, it creates an atmosphere that allows extensive character development moving forward. The episode shows viewers Grace and Judd’s story, and it does so in a way that highlights their bright future and how they have built a healthy, happy future together by first creating a solid foundation for themselves. “Saving Grace” stands out because of its attention to detail and the complex dynamics it beautifully fleshes out. The episode is rooted in humanity; the characters are not perfect, but through those flaws, viewers see the power of interpersonal relationships and the ability of people to save one another in a myriad of ways.

Throughout the episode, Judd is lost, but one grounding force saves him from his demons: his wife, Grace Ryder. As the episode kicks off, Judd is a young kid joyriding with his friend. As Judd sits behind the wheel, a tragic accident causes his friend to die, and Judd is left with a wealth of guilt and self-doubt. Despite Grace being in grave danger after the accident, during the entirety of the episode, it is Judd who needs saving from the complex emotions that haunt him. When Judd is in danger, Grace is there for him, even when she is a hospital bed. Judd wants to take revenge on the drunk driver who drove him and Grace off the road, but then, Grace wakes up, and Judd comments that Grace has saved the drunk driver. Before that, before Grace and Judd have met face to face, they begin correspondence when Judd calls a Christian crisis hotline that Grace works at as she finishes school. Seeing their relationship develop over the phone shows the deep connection that the couple has, and in Judd’s darkest moments, Grace was there for him, and her voice saved him from his own self-destruction.

After reciting Psalm 31, which Judd has tattooed on his hand, Grace says, “None of us are perfect. It’s by Grace that we’re saved,” and this line expertly reinforces the themes of the episode. Just before he nearly beats the drunk driver who ran him and Grace off the road, we see Judd getting the tattoo, which shows Judd’s mindset. He is thinking about Grace and how she has saved him. Judd himself was responsible, at least in part, for somebody’s death; that guilt has made it hard for him to recover mentally, but grace has gotten him through. Even so, he struggles to extend forgiveness to the man who has hurt Grace. The reminder of his own trauma is fresh, but Judd is still a flawed, emotional person who needs tempering, and with Grace unconscious, he feels untethered. He’s back to being an angry person, who still blames himself for the death of his friend.

Judd once fought to make amends with Leigh-Ann, the mother of the kid who died in the car, and these parallels show how hard it is to forgive. But the forgiveness ultimately isn’t about giving a gift to someone who has done wrong; in this story, it is shown as a way of saving yourself. Instead of getting trapped in the bitterness, forgiveness allows the characters to heal themselves. Early in the episode, Leigh-Ann is hurt on the floor of her home; this portrayal represents how her son’s death debilitated her. She holds unto her anger, but as Judd makes amends by fixing Leigh-Ann’s fence (a white picket fence that represents the ideal American home, which has become dirty and has fallen apart since Cal’s death), and he takes a devastated property and makes it a home. After watching Judd work for a while as she recovers, Leigh-Ann finally gives Judd water, and not only does Judd make amends, but Leigh-Anne has physically recovered since we last saw her. She still has a sling on her arm, but she’s on the way to healing. Likewise, when Judd goes to see the man who nearly killed Grace, he is in the process of healing himself. He’s just gotten out of bed from his own injuries. His body is still battered, but as he backs away from the man because of Grace waking up, it marks that Judd is healing too, not just physically but he’s also learning to focus on what matters rather than the anger he feels. In the end, it is love and care that brings the character happiness, and it makes them happier to focus on the things that save them rather than what hurts them. Love, from the 126 and from Grace, keep Judd from self-destructing from his guilt and rage.

The title works on a number of levels. While it seems at first glance that the episode is about “Saving Grace” from the accident that has nearly killed her, the essence of the episode is that Grace is Judd’s “Saving Grace.” Not only that, but she is thousands of people’s “Saving Grace.” In her career, she has been a voice of reason and hope. Even when she can’t save a life, as with the astronaut in the season one finale, her voice still provides comfort and a sense of salvation to people who are hurting. It’s not just Grace that saves Judd. In many ways, Judd also sparks Grace’s own decisions. As Grace falls in love with Judd, she realizes that going to graduate school far away isn’t her calling. She doesn’t stay because of Judd, but there’s no doubt that her connection with Judd helped Grace realize that saving people was her calling. She decides to become a 9-1-1 operator, and for thousands of people, she becomes a “Saving Grace” on the other end of the line.

“Saving Grace,” is one of the best episodes of the series, and arguably, it is the most artfully written. It stands out because the details add up in a way that drives the plot and character development. It excels at showing rather than just telling the viewers the vital details of the story. Grace is an angel, and one of her greatest strengths is bringing people together and comforting them in their times of need. When she saves people, she then allows them to save countless others. Through Grace, Judd is a hero in his own right, but he is the kind that gets glory, while Grace’s role is more understated but just as important. The episode mostly focuses on Judd’s history, but when you look at it closely, the role of Grace, understated but poignant, is what stands out the most.

The Edits Edit

Some of the best edits this week that deserve all the love.

Carlos Reyes, 911 Lone Star 1.01 by @reyeslonestar is an amazing piece of fan art, and as usual, Alice is an amazing talent that we should all appreciate.

This Grace and Judd gifset by @ronenrubinstein is just WOW. I love looking at it and cannot stop!

Marjan Marwani by @alwaysablossom is soooooo pretty. I love the colors and all the details more than I can say!

SIERRA MCCLAIN as GRACE RYDER by @bucktks is an amazing edit that highlights Grace. You should also check out this one, which is equally good! Finally, take a look at this Tarlos set! (They all are amazing.)

Judd & Owen in 2x09 (Pt2) by @911dawnstar is such a well-done gifset, and I love seeing Judd and Owen being a wonderful duo. Also look at Part 1!

“We’re gonna have a new little Texan running around!” by @shoenaerts makes me swoon, and my heart can barely handle it because Grace and Judd are the definition of LOVE. This one is also beautiful.

the ryders + howdy. by @laurenkmyers makes my heart beat faster... I love it so much.

This Grace and Judd moment by @chrissiewatts makes me cry every time I see it AHHH.

These gifs by @strandtk is so amazing. I am in love with this edit! This one too!

This gif by @jessie-meili showcases Grace in the perfect way!

Group Hugs by @rafasilvas is one of my fave gifsets ever and highlights wonderful parallels of the 126 family. I’m in love.

The truth is, I think I just wanted to hear your voice. by @buckleys-diaz is soooooo dreamy and beautiful.

Fic Recs

remind us where we've been by @morganaspendragonss (hollyhobbit101)

Word Count: 564

Chapters: 1/1

“This is something, ain’t it?” Judd says, nudging Owen gently. Owen looks around Judd's backyard, taking it all in - TK and Carlos with their two kids, Judd's three milling around, their whole family gathered together in a future Owen's not sure he ever imagined even in his wildest dreams. "It's something," he agrees.

Home is wherever you are by @sixringss (buckscasey)

Word Count: 1651

Chapters: 1/1

A week after the fire, Carlos goes back to his home.Speculation for 2x12/13

Get Me off the Boat, I'm Ready to be on Land by @silvarafael (tiniestmite)

Word Count: 3966

Chapters: 1/1

Five times TK’s sobriety is tested after he arrives in Austin but he keeps it to himself, and the one time it gets so bad that he tells someone.

The Way Our Horizons Meet (chapter 1) by @chicgeekgirl89 (Writeallnight)

Word Count: 1500

Chapters: 1/3 (WIP)

Carlos' perspective through the aftermath of T.K.'s shooting. Follows the events of episodes 1x08-1x10.

You Found Me (Did You Ever Doubt I Would?) (Chapter 10) by @doctornineandthreequarters  (doctornineandthreequarters)

Word Count: 2736

Chapters: 10/? (standalone works)

Tarlos college au

[allyvampirelass29]

Welcome to Christmasland, Victoria

A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

Welcome to Christmasland, Victoria Welcome to The End And it's going to be glorious Dare I said, you belonged here with me And it's still true....... When I see your rended head Hanging from The Great Tree How fondly I'll think of you All the magical times we spent How we fought, how you bled Blood droplets like breadcrumbs Scarlet against the snow How I trapped you in my ice maze That look on your face Pleading for me to let her go I ALREADY HAVE YOU Stupid Girl How frivolous your sacrifice I'll strike her down Without thinking twice How many Wretched McQueens do I have to kill? For you to CARE what Wayne wants, how he feels? It's selfish to hold on To the child you love, only when he's gone. You'll die here, and so will the McQueen name Good riddance I say But fear not, My Dear I'll take good care of Wayne I'll give him a shiny new one Far more suited to this wondrous place Who do you want to be, Wayne? Say it with me Four letters, and it's done Why don't you spell it out for your Mom? Can you guess what comes next? Come boy, don't be shy........ I'll help you decide This isn't homework, this is fun! Something special between us That she can't wreck Welcome Home, My Son Wayne M-A-N-X

OH HOLY NIGHT!!!!! My ENTIRE body is humming, the dead heat of summer ALIVE with the magic of Christmas!!! Is there such a thing as a Christmasland Afterglow!? Because I have it, I feel....... RADIANT!!!! I've pranced around in a daze, in a December DREAM of bright coloured glisten, and a festive world, I ache to call my own, singing for anyone that will listen!!!! I never thought I'd say this, but shockingly, impossibly....... My beloved Sleigh House has been dethroned, and WELCOME TO CHRISTMASLAND has just been crowned my FAVOURITE episode of NOS4A2 of all time, beyond anything my own Creative desire could conjure!!! It's an unforgettable EXPERIENCE. It's a transcendent EVENT, bright shining, this night divine, the PERFECT date with Charlie Manx!!! Thrills become chills, dream becomes disaster, in this sleighcoaster ride of gripping emotion, dastardly duels, and devastating betrayal!!! The highest peaks, taking us up and up, ascending through the stars to the winking moon, the sharpest curves, the breathless rush of an exhilarating joyride through a surreal dream come true. in both eerily dazzling visual, and electrifying plot. Hold on, Creatives......... It's the ride of your life.

Christmasland. Like the shiniest, most beautifully wrapped gift beneath the tree, left unopened, has always presented the most intriguing mystery. Spoken about in hushed tones, in both reverence, and wonder, hatred, and horror to baffling extremes, it's NOS4A2's best kept secret. The missing piece, the final destination. For two seasons we've heard the tale about dashing Father Christmas, riding high in his ebony sleigh, all to save the children of the world, and give them Christmas every day...... But thus far, this winter wonderland has been kept firmly in the mystery box. A flash of colored shine here, a scrap of ribbon there, a quick jaunt in and out of the towering twin candy cane gates, special cargo in tow, and then we're off again. At times, it's been maddening, and I just ached to see it, SO badly!!! Now I can finally say, after two seasons of festive teases, it was everything Charlie promised, and so much more than I could have ever imagined, INFINITELY worth the wait, the hype, and the conflict!!! I am thankful too, that our esteemed writers were sly enough to hold back all this time, and then, having driven us mad with the waiting, swung wide the gates for the BIG reveal, letting the glowing enchantment and happy wonder of Christmasland overwhelm the senses all at once. You feel welcomed, you feel accepted, and once you've seen it, you'll never want leave........

Welcome to Christmasland, Creatives!!! You're very much in the moment, swept up in the full Christmasland experience, as the cheerful holiday music heralds your arrival!!! You even feel like you're there, in the backseat of the Wraith alongside Wayne, the shot in his perspective, as you go through the gates with Charlie at the wheel!!! I love it when NOS4A2 does this kind of immersive cinematography, putting us in the story, for being a Creative is all about making the fantasy a reality!!! For a boy that's never had a Christmas, who associates the holidays with his mother's depression, drinking herself to death, destroying any and all decoration, Christmasland is a FEAST for Wayne's eyes, a forbidden joy, and it shines on his face, mouth falling open, tongue sticking out, the cascade of coloured lights reflected off the Wraith's window. "Welcome to Christmasland, Wayne," Charlie chortles, as the wonderstruck lad, stars in his eyes, hops out of the car, greeted by a throng of eager vampire children. Charlie waves at them, his grin resplendent, and lovingly he calls to them as they surround him. "My Little Ones, how I've missed you all!!!"

It's a beaming joy for me to see Charlie like this, so in his element, so ALIVE, happy and playful, ready to share his world with the special little boy he has come to love like a son. As his other children clamber around Wayne, fighting over him, each urging him to play a different game, he smiles, hand raised to calm them, not wanting to overwhelm the dear little lad, and is the picture of fatherhood, as he says with gentle authority, "Now, now there will be plenty of time for all of it, after Millie gives him the grand tour. " Oddly enough, Christmasland's First Child neglects to welcome the boy her father has chased so tirelessly, braving all manner of wretched McQueens to procure, and while he veils it well, you can sense his disappointment. "Well then, it's your lucky day, Wayne. It's not every child that gets a private tour from Father Christmas, himself," He crows, deciding to shrug off Millie's slight...... for now. The vampire children oooh and ahhh, which I found just too adorable. He's magic to them, you can tell!!! "Let's go find you a more exciting costume!" Charlie coos with a sweet eyebrow raise, and I am DEAD as he lovingly tousles Wayne's hair!!!!

Can I just say, I love, love, LOVED this opener with all of my giddy, affectionate, Manx-loving heart!?!? I always thought the interactive Charlie Dream in, "Bruce Wayne McQueen," would forever be my favourite opener, but there is so much frolicking joy, and all kinds of warm fuzzies in this one, as Charlie dotes upon Wayne, charming as ever, helping him pick out his extra special Christmasland costume!!! I LOVED IT, my eyes welling up, as what I suspected all along to be true, couldn't be more adorably obvious. While it began as a revenge plot, taking Wayne, he has become so precious to Charlie, and the adoration that he has for this dear little boy is that of the proudest father, loving him, heart and soul, as his own son. In that moment I knew...... Charlie Manx would never let him go....... Oh my gosh, you guys, it's just all so CUTE, Charlie being patient and coaxing with Wayne, even though he's reluctant to give up his space pajamas, shyly informing Charlie that his mom got them for him for his birthday. Charlie sympathizes at first, and then explains that these are for bedtime, and there are no bedtimes in Christmasland, just staying up all night, playing games and riding rides. (Seriously, Baby, SIGN ME UP!!!!)

He knows Wayne so well, despite the short time they have spent together, he knows his greatest dreams, the things he loves the most, and he wants so badly to bring them to life for him, ever the attentive father. "At the peak of the sleighcoaster, you can almost reach out and touch the stars. The very moon, itself. You could be a real life astronaut......" He says dreamily with an encouraging elbow jab, making Wayne smile, and I swear I could feel my heart melting like snow. I especially loved all the little details in this scene!!! The way MANX on the astronaut costume is spelled out in NASA lettering, how the other patch even says, "Manx Moon Mission," because Charlie's likeness is beautifully illuminated in the Christmasland Moon. And the way Charlie even has an astronaut's helmet ready, presenting it to Wayne, with a flourish and a flip!!!. I found myself so in awe at the care, the devotion, he's put into these costumes, and I couldn't help but muse at all the possibilities, and which I would have chosen as an eight year old!!! I was, however, extremely nervous when he gave him the scissors, wrapped up nice in a bow, which I now see as some rather excellent, utterly chilling foreshadowing...... But luckily, this is eclipsed by something even more heart racing, in my favourite part of my favourite opener, in my favourite episode!!! (Seriously Charlie, did you write this whole episode just to dazzle me!?)

To be officially inducted into Christmasland, every child must write their name in the registry book. Wayne writes his first name in bright red ink, and then hesitates, pen paused mid-air, struggling with what to write next. "McQueen just...... doesn't feel right anymore, does it?" Charlie coos with sneaking revel. "This isn't homework, this is fun!" He persuades, enthused. "It's okay, I'll help you......" My heart quickens, chills skittering across my skin, already knowing what my sneaky boy is up to!!! "M-A-N-X," Charlie says coolly, eyebrow raised something sinister, and I can't breathe, the way he spells it out, with that exhilarated rasp, irresistibly lingering on the, "X!" Charlie takes such pleasure in naming this boy in particular, the son of his scathing arch rival, as his own. Wayne eagerly writes it out just as Charlie instructs him, the now miniature Manx, beaming at him with a toothy, vampire grin. "Manx, Wayne Manx!!!!"

All of the smug satisfaction he took in striking the name McQueen from the record, falls away at this happy declaration, and I really did cry, so touched, as Charlie gazes back at him, dark eyes glistening with vulnerable emotion, a tremble in his voice, as he says it. "Welcome home, My Son....." A slow pan back to the book reveals that all of them, every child in Christmasland, has taken their father's name, and the eerie music wants me to be chilled to the bone, but instead, I'm so ridiculously giddy. All the naysayers back in season one, who said Charlie doesn't care what happens to the children he takes, after he drains them of their youth, can be damned. Charlie LOVES his babies, and it's never been more evident than now, in this beautiful gesture, bestowing them with his last name. (Can I please have it too, Love?)

The happy, romping joy of Christmasland tears away as we are thrown back into the solemn silence of Chris' death scene. Okay...... I consider this episode iridescently perfect, my wildest dreams made real, but I do have one very furious complaint. I HATE the way the aftermath, or should I say, lack thereof, of Chris' death was handled!!!! Yes, I understand that time is of the essence here, that we've got to get to Christmasland post haste to save Wayne, that it's the number one priority right now. But GOD, Vic, your father just DIED, he was MURDERED right in front of you, SAY SOMETHING!!!!! Ughhhh it's just all so apathetic. And confusing. I cried for days, almost the entire week after Chris died, and here Vic is so..... okay? Apparently her father's death affected me, more than her!? What!? Even Lou, God love him, drapes his coat over Chris' body, without shedding a tear. Are you KIDDING me!? Lou, our sweet, sentimental, Teddy Bear Man, lovable, fluffy, deep-feeling Lou doesn't cry here!? I get that he'd only just met Chris, but then again, this is the father of the woman he loves. Maybe he's trying to be strong for her, but it just seemed oddly out of character for the both of them. I wanted a moment, however fleeting, where they said something nice about Chris, where Lou held her as she knelt by her father's body, spoke to him, and wept, and most importantly forgave him. She does mention something about not wanting to leave him out there alone, but it's so nonchalant, such an afterthought.

I did, however, absolutely ADORE the romance in this scene between Vic and Lou.

"Lou Carmody, you are the best man I have ever known, and I'm thankful every day that Wayne has your heart."

Lou and Vic's love has always been so warm, so comfortable, joking, laughing, like a warm sweater that hugs you, and I love that! But this, right here, was the first time that I felt that exquisite ache between them, that desperate longing, that spark that great loves are made of.

"Kiss me, just kiss me," Vic laughs breathlessly, and this kiss hits something powerful, between the danger that awaits and the love that's just been professed. Vic is not a super sentimental person, so it was really wonderful to see her, giddy like this, a woman in love as she looks over her shoulder on her bike, her smile indestructible.

I love Maggie here too, she's not taking no for an answer, and OMG was I the only one that FORGOT Mags was hunting the Wraith even before she met Vic!? Confounding to think there was a time when Vic and Charlie weren't a thing, battling across worlds!!!! That it was once just a fabulously eccentric librarian, asking her scrabble bag questions about a strange, black car.

"Forget the Wraith!!! We're going to blow up Christmasland!!!" Maggie cries triumphant, and there's something about seeing it, this impenetrable place, this frosty fortress, "CHRISTMASLAND," scrawled in that iconic green spray paint on the Shorter Way wall. She's really doing it. Vic's storming Christmasland, and hell's coming with her. Charlie Manx BEWARE.

There's so much to gush about in this episode, it really did feel like Christmas Morning, breathlessly tearing open surprise after surprise!!! Charlie not knowing about the ghost resurrection of Sleigh House was a SHOCK, a staggering TWIST of the most inspired BRILLIANCE!!! Where Christmasland is his dream, Sleigh House is his long repressed nightmare, lurking in the shadow of it, his own personal shop of horrors. I was STUNNED. I thought Charlie had recreated it himself, from memory, resurrecting his dead wife, but whether to have a piece of her, of it, some semblance of the wonderful life he'd lost, or to torture her, keeping her locked away inside, I couldn't decide!!! Charlie's face falls as he sees it, aghast, stumbling through the darkest remnants of his memories, and my heart panged for him, needing to console him, having never seen him so frightened, so tremulous, so...... vulnerable. He's terrified out of his mind. Shrinking back against the wall, his chest shuddering as his worst childhood trauma, Mr. Tim, calls out to him, haunting, and for a moment, he's that helpless little boy again, retreating back inside himself, begging the voice to stop. But even Mr. Tim cannot compare to the vengeful apparition waiting upstairs........

Cassie Manx, a ghastly vision, beautiful and terrible, in a white gown, with her mangled face, and fierce, glassy eyes, appears, and Charlie's heart stops, his lips trembling on her name as he falls back, horrified, against the closet.

"Come now, Charles. You know I've always been here...... nagging at you from the back of your mind, like a song you can't get out of your head......"

Cassie puts the needle down on the Victrola, and forcibly takes a dismayed Charles into her arms. "I'll lead this time," She hisses sardonically, and I can't help but notice the paralyzing parallels between this, and his dance with Jolene. He was so commanding, so haughty, seductive, dangerous, somehow both gentle and aggressive, as he forced her to dance with him. Here, it is Mrs. Manx that is the aggressor, not just in the way she yanks him about the room, erratic, threatening, but in the merciless accusations, that she wields like a knife. "You always were such a terrible dancer, Charles, my father paid for classes, but it didn't help. That's all you've ever done, spin us around in circles." I'm so torn, because Cassie is a blinding FORCE, a fearsome apparition, finding in death, the words, the voice, she didn't have in life, punishing and mesmerizing, making Charlie suffer, degrading him, each facing their demons in each other, in this dance with death. But again, my heart BLEEDS for my beautiful boy in his admonishment, called a failure of a man, a selfish husband, and careless father. (Also, I'm sorry, Cassie, but DAMN your ex husband CAN dance, I've seen it!!!!)

"You say that Christmasland is a safe haven for children, but really it's a place for you to escape yourself, a place where you are not a failure, where you are not a coward who devoured his own family, to FEED his insatiable ego."

Charlie's voice cracks, as he raises his protest, falling back against the wall, Cassie caressing his face with sinister intent, as he closes his stricken eyes. "That is why it will all turn to STATIC." I shiver with the frigid tension between them, and Charlie shivers too, beneath her fingernails, as she gets under his skin, both of us destroyed by these words, and all I want to do is run, pull him into my arms, soothe his trembling fear!!! And yet..... part of me is marveling at this terrifying creature, who could make even Charlie Manx afraid, leave him wrought with guilt, and in this moment, oddly enough, Cassie Manx has never been more ALIVE.

My favourite part of this scene, was how each of them were fighting to protect Millie from the other. An avenging ghost, and a Supernatural Strong Creative Vampire, and yet in this scene especially, we see them as what they are at the heart. Parents. In the midst of all the paranormal activity, there's something so human, so domestic about it, arguing what's best, who's best for their daughter. "How's that gonna happen, Cassie?" Charles snarls, the cast spell wearing off. "I'M IMMORTAL!!!" I loved that, his nostrils flaring, protectively pulling Millie to his side. This is beautiful writing and such a powerful scene, I was entranced.

There was one thing, however, that I thought was incredibly foolish of Cassie...... "Vic McQueen did...... She's already here." I wanted to scream. WHY Cassie!? WHY would you TELL Charlie that Vic had breeched the walls of Christmasland!? What MADNESS!!! I get that she wants to see his face when she reveals Vic, the woman he hates most, second only to his mother, has done the impossible, but the ONE thing Vic has going for her in the Christmasland strike, is the element of surprise. Now, even that's gone....... Instead, I would have had Cassie help Vic by distracting Charlie, delaying him in the house, and then have Charlie figure it out the longer it goes on, realize why she's been so desperate to keep his company!!! Now, THAT would have been AMAZING!!! I did love that last line however, as Charlie tears out of Sleigh House.

"Go, before Vic McQueen releases the white static that takes us all!!!!" Holy epic foreshadowing, Cass........ WOW!!!!

The scenes with Vic and Maggie storming Christmasland are incredible, and I LOVED how Maggie shouting, "Red Light!!!" a very human trick, worked perfectly on the vampire girl!!! Well DONE, NOS4A2!!!! I also loved how Vic KNEW Wayne was going to pick the astronaut costume, even though this little space man wasn't him!!! Thus far, between the lofty sleighcoaster, the thousands of glittering lights, and the gingerbread houses, covered in powder snow, Christmasland has been a luminous dream, a paradise for the lost. But all too quickly, as the girls near a looming pine, ominous in size and appearance, we are introduced to the first of the nightmare elements. My stomach churned, sickened, as I saw them, human heads hanging from The Great Tree like ornaments, shriveled with ghoulish expressions. What the HELL!? Maggie shares my horror, and as her hand flies to cover her mouth, gagging, I just know...... Joe. I felt the tears fall, horrified and angry that Charlie had done this to Joe, my heart sinking, staring into his empty, sad eyes. The rile in Charlie's cry, sounds the beginning of the end. "VICTORIA MCQUEEN, Welcome........ to Christmasland!!!!! The showdown is about to begin.

Charlie Manx, having shaken off the horrors of Sleigh House, now grins smugly, the coloured lights flickering behind him, catching his glossy hair in their glow, his black coal eyes, flashing mischief and danger, as he stands with them, his children, the New Family Manx. With the daughter that he's always loved on one side, and the son he's never had on the other, Charlie Manx has everything he's ever wanted, and now, as Vic McQueen stands defiant, his opposite, her promising death is just the topper on the Christmas Tree.

"Let's go, Wayne, c'mon," Vic calls out to her son, but the waver in her voice, proves that she already knows it's not going to be that easy.

"But he LIKES it here, at home with me, and all his new friends....... Charlie's voice begins light, and jovial, in a spectacularly good mood, and then hardens, accusingly. "Why would you SPOIL that!?"

"Don't listen to a word he says, Wayne, do you hear me?" Vic's anger and frustration starts to bleed through her voice, and the McQueen turned Manx, doesn't answer.

"Wayne McQueen!!!"

"That's NOT my name!!!" He shoots back with his mother's defiance. And here, I fall even more in LOVE with Charlie Manx, besotted, because he has the CUTEST freaking laugh, I have EVER heard in my life!!! It's pure music, that darling, boyish giggle, eyes widening, half surprised, half mad with adoration for his devoted son. Laughing in her face, eyes dancing, seeming to say, "Told you so," Charlie dismisses her charges of hurting him, being a monster, with an adorable, indignantly yelled RUBBISH!!! However, just as he's gained a son, he seems to be losing a daughter.......

"My bridge didn't get me here on its own, Charlie. Wayne, ask her. If she's so happy here, why does she want a ride out from me?"

Ooooh PLOT TWIST, Charlie!!! Charlie's laughing features, somber, intense with this revelation. Millie asking him to go with her to the real world, was one thing...... but asking VIC MCQUEEN for her aid, helping secret her inside, defying her own father, was the rebellious princess' act of treason against the Christmasland King.

Vic continues to appeal to Millie, pleading for her help, encouraging her to take back what her father's taken away from her, and while you can see the words' effect on Millie, her eyes sad, and emotional, she cannot speak against him, not yet. Charlie knows not to let Vic see him sweat, and he doesn't even bat an eye as he muses coolly.

"Why don't we let Wayne choose? Do you want to go with...... HER," he snarks disdainfully, trying not to roll his eyes, as Vic smiles hopeful at her son. "Or do you want to stay with me, in Christmasland.......?

All eyes on Wayne, and Charlie's smirking, because he already knows what his darling boy is going to say, although I, myself, was rather stunned at the way he said it........

"Why would we EVER leave? We JUST got here," He frowns, his tiny voice cruel, and condescending. Whoah, Wayne. That's cold.......

I LOVED this scene, the palpable tension, the scathing betrayals, in both the McQueen and Manx camps, as Charlie and Vic's kids switch sides, turning on their parents, moving across the board like chess pieces. I also noticed how Charlie stood closer to Wayne than Millie, as the scene went on, and I couldn't help but wonder...... as much as she aches to be her human self again, and grow up to go on adventures, perhaps it was also jealousy that fueled this drastic turn around. Something about what she said to him, earlier in the Ice Maze...... "I have ENOUGH friends," and how she went out of her way not to be there when Wayne arrived, and how Charlie said, "Why don't we let WAYNE, choose," dismissing her own professed desire to Vic, without a second address. Millie has been her father's sugar plum for centuries...... what will happen now that his son has become the apple of his eye?

"Scissors for the DRIFTER, everyone!!!!" Charlie yells to his little army, that delectable rile in his voice, as his fanged children descend on Vic and Maggie!!! Charlie's done playing, toying, teasing, he's kept one McQueen in, and it's time to go for the kill, win the game, and take the other McQueen OUT!!! Vic and Maggie dashing through the snow, dodging little vampires, setting bombs all the way, and the chase is ON!!! I was so THRILLED that horrid, appalling tree was the first thing to go, exploding into flames, victoriously felled!!!! Yes!!! THANK YOU, MAGGIE!!! This one's for JOE!!! I had NO idea though, that setting fire to Christmasland would hurt Charlie the same way damage done to the Wraith does, and somehow it seemed even WORSE!!! Charlie's nose bleeds and he coughs into his hand, staggering into the toy shop, and I don't know who I'm more afraid for........

Scissors for the Drifter rages on, Maggie and Vic sneaking their way through the vast, dazzling array of carnival games, and racing amusement rides, blanketed in fresh snow. The Red Light Girl from earlier, sidles up to Maggie, and all of us elicit a collective gasp, as she slips the scrabble bag from Maggie's coat pocket. "Give it back..... Red Light, Red Light," Maggie warns, trying not to panic, but you can see it in her eyes....... That bag is everything to her, and she doesn't know who she is without it.......... "New game!" The other girl exclaims with claws and a growl, and her and Mike play keep away with the bag, much to Maggie's frantic dismay. I was so relieved, and tremendously appreciated NOS4A2's approach to the Found Children of Christmasland, how fun and games were their first instinct, and maiming and murder were more of a side quest.

Meanwhile, Vic, having escaped the receding vampire throng with her life, unscathed, save one bite, isn't giving up. There's no WAY in HELL she's going anywhere without Wayne You'll-Never-Be-A-Manx McQueen. In the midst of the death defying chase, however, I was so hoping Vic would look up once, and see Charlie's face in the moon!!! Making a face of her own, mouth open in disgust, I can just hear her!!!! What the HELL-!? I would literally have given anything for her reaction to that!!! She spies Wayne, determined, coaxing him, and he looks at her maniacally, with his new father's malicious smirk, as he hurries away, making her chase him, fleeing into a vast, seemingly endless maze, made entirely of ice.

As we rise to the scintillating climax, we find the children's betrayal against their feuding parents has taken a defining, final turn. Charlie and Millie's scene in the toyshop was SENSATIONAL!!! Mattea Conforti plays Charlie's daughter with such conviction, and I am SO impressed by the emotional range, the rare talent and prowess of expression, she has at this young of an age!!! Charlie coaxes Millie in his sweet, fatherly way at first, trying to govern his anger, as he tells her about the demise of that horror show Christmas tree.

"The Great Tree........ We dreamt it up together, branch, by branch, and now it's gone."

Millie seems altogether unmoved, and if there was ever a moment that she is so over Christmasland, it's now. Charlie tries to reason with her, tries to accuse Vic for his daughter's crimes against him.

"You are not the first to be twisted into knots by Vic McQueen...... Don't you see? She's POISONED you and your mother against me, made you doubt your own FATHER!!!"

Millie begs him to let Wayne go, let Vic leave with her son, and asks him to stay with her, no more new kids in Christmasland. Charlie hesitates. "I have work to do. And that wouldn't be very fair to Wayne......" Charlie's not giving up his son, not even if it means losing his daughter, and Millie knows it......

"I'm not enough...... I never was. I begged you to leave with me, and you said no. Now, I ask you to stay, and you won't do that either?"

I teared up like crazy, she's so heartbroken, so emotionally wrought in this moment, and I saw a little girl, who would give up all of Christmasland's ornamental wonders, her birthday, and all of her friends, all of her dreams, just to have her father's sole attention.

Charlie's rage starts to take over, veiling his pain, trying to inspire Millie to action, win her back, promising her all will be forgiven, if she takes her sword, and hangs Vic's head from a new tree.

"You want to hang Vic's head on a tree? Go DO it yourself......... I'm LEAVING."

Charlie snaps, seizing her arm, nostrils flaring, the pain feeding his fury. "I am your FATHER!!! You will DO exactly as I SAY!!" A lot of people cried out against this action, of him forcibly taking her arm, but I saw it less as a show of patriarchal aggression, and much more as him desperately clinging to her, out of fear. She's his joy, his everything, and he doesn't want her to go, not now, not ever.

"You can't stop me...... unless........ you'd never raise a hand to a child, would you, Father?"

He lets her go at once, unnerved by her clever challenge, and watches heartbroken, as she takes her leave of him. Fuming, he snatches up the shiny, silver autopsy hammer off the table, his favourite toy in the shop, and leaves the store, just as the candy shop blows up in a splinter of wood and a burst of orange fire. He coughs, bent over, his hair pulling loose from his coif, his nose bleeding. Charlie and his dream world are unraveling fast.

"I want to play a game with you........"

Back in the ice maze, Wayne approaches his mother, and I have a BAD feeling, his voice eerie, and unkind........ Danger, Vic, Danger....... I whisper, the frosty air ripe with foreboding.

Vic smiles, fighting the tears, saying she'll play any game he wants, even his NBA basketball game, and she'll let him whoop her butt. Wayne resists, and I think his resentment starts to show, having never had a Christmas, having to always watch her leave him, no matter how good he's been.

"You know what Christmas every day means, don't you? No 4th of July, no friends, no sunshine, no summer, no swimming, no hotdogs, no fireworks. That was our favourite day in the whole wide world, remember? We would go to the lake with your dad, and watch the bright colours explode in the stars in the sky........ You always loved it."

I cried. Vic is so not a sentimental person, but here she is, so sweetly pouring her heart out to her son, and it is beautiful, and so moving, as she lets herself love him, be vulnerable in that love, and let that vulnerability make her strong. "Even though it's impossible, I'm here, fighting Charlie Manx because I made a promise to you, and I'm done breaking promises to you, Baby," Wayne's eyes soften, looking again like his human self, her words striking every chord, finally breaking Charlie's thrall, reaching him, and Vic cries, overwhelmed with the love she's let herself feel, pulling him in for hug, cradling the back of his head so tenderly. I don't think we could have ever prepared ourselves.......... for what came next. The music swells to its emotional height, and then deadens, a swift stab of metal scissors, and I feel their sharp pierce, leaving a sucking hole in my own chest, my breath strangled, as Wayne STABS his mother with the scissors, running off, laughing, with the cheerful exclaim of, "I win Scissors for the Drifter!!! Et tu, Bats!?!? It's a SHOCKING, tragic scene, that leaves you with a hollow fear. Is there any of Wayne left to save?

Ahhhhh but the BEST is yet to come, Kids!!! That scintillating climax, I promised you, the most chilling of all of Christmasland's thrills? It's here....... It's fire and ice, and all the sinister deliciousness you've been craving, and it's my FAVOURITE scene in an episode full of sparkling snow white perfection. Maggie, after chasing Red Light Girl into the Ice Maze, and taking her bag back, is saved by a staggering Vic, and our two dauntless heroines, navigate their way through Charlie's mind-bending, frozen labyrinth.

"You're bleeding......" Vic manages, out of breath, still clutching the stab wound on her side.

"YOU'RE bleeding......" Maggie counters cleverly, and it's a really sweet moment amidst all the screaming chaos, as the girls laugh together, Maggie supporting Vic, as they stumble and search for the exit. The feeling is mutual. It's time to get the HELL out of Christmasland.

Drops of blood, crimson stark against the blinding white, tall black leather boots, a supple leather glove reaching down to touch the blood, brushing the snow. Charlie.

The girls hurry as fast as their injuries will allow, crying for joy when they see the exit, both bitten and bruised, one brutally stabbed, chancing a glance over their shoulders when they hear a noise. But when they look back, the inviting exit is gone, and in its place, a looming wall of solid ice.

"I just saw it, it was there!!!" Maggie cries bewildered, holding Vic upright, desperately confused.

Charlie, nose bleeding, a devastatingly handsome dark figure, creeps up behind them, hammer in hand, so happy to explain.

"That's the beauty of an inscape. Everything here is a product of my........ imagination." He simpers sinisterly, and in a move that is straight up SYLAR, playfully brings the hammer to tap his forehead. "Not fluid, like water, but semi-solid...... like, say...... ICE," Charlie pounds the hammer into the ice once, teasing and deadly, the music shivering, as he advances on them, trapping them in a dead end.

"Ironic, isn't it, Vic...... When you had Wayne in your life, you were always looking for an exit, and now you're here, looking for him. Longing for forgiveness, which you'll never find, just the way your father never found it. It's a McQueen family tradition........ dying in dead ends!!!"

Another searing truth exposed in the midst of a good seethe, and Vic, rather than spitting curses, reining down on him full force, pleads with him instead, tears in her eyes, her voice tremulous. "Let her go, Manx!!! You can have me-"

Charlie Manx snarls, his eyes murderous with dark fury, thrusting the hammer at Vic, breathing hard, rasping.

"I ALREADY HAVE YOU!!!!!"

I can honestly say, that was the SEXIEST damn thing I've EVER seen in my entire life, my whole body went numb, quivering as I touched my heart, barely able to whisper, "Yes!!!! YES you do!!!!" How the HELL that ice maze didn't melt in the face of that kind of LETHAL heat, will forever be a Christmasland Mystery. There aren't even words, clumsy, coherent, or otherwise, for how HOT I was for Charlie Manx in this moment, melting in his thrall.

Without another word, he pulls back the hammer, and strikes Maggie with a deafening CRACK, and she goes down HARD, moaning in anguish. Charlie's spell shivers around me, as the fire just ignited, is introduced to the coldest fear. Not again...... No, no, no, Charlie, PLEASE GOD don't kill, Maggie!!!! I can't do it, not again, NOT HER, no, please, I'm still grieving Chris, Baby, STOP!!!" My heart on pause, and Charlie hesitates, before the bomb beneath the sleigh coater EXPLODES, setting off a chain reaction, bomb, after bomb, billowing smoke, hungry, licking flames, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little sad, the shining dream becoming an inferno nightmare, as Christmasland burns into a firestorm.

Charlie SCREAMS in excruciating agony, aging rapidly, hammer fumbling from his grasp, into the blanket of snow, crouching in anguish, and Vic doesn't hesitate to pluck up the hammer, and crack him HARD across the skull, knocking him out cold. With a grunt of frustration, seething hatred boiling up from her whole body, she smashes the hammer against Charlie's bloodied skull again, and again....... and again.

"Vic, you have to STOP! It won't do any good, you KNOW that!!! He's just an old bitch, that's all he ever was....."

Okay, seriously Mags, I love you, but can people just STOP calling Charlie a BITCH!? First Bing and now Maggie!? Ughhh, I HATEEE it so much! Second...... for the LOVE of GOD, Victoria McQueen, thank you for stopping that brutal smashing of my boy's skull, but, whatever you do...... DON'T DROP THAT FREAKING HAMMER!!!!! She does. She drops it. WHY does she drop it, why not take it with her!? Why leave Charlie's favourite toy behind for him to murder her with!?!?

While we're at it, I have another question!!! As Charlie searches frantically through the crowd of running scared vampire children, the park engulfed in flames, asking each one that passes, if they've seen Millie, WHY do they not answer him!? He's Charlie Freaking Manx, their famed Father Christmas!!! He's like a rock star, a saviour to them, whyyyyy won't they help him!? So Maddening. I was also surprised that Millie's ornament was her mother's golden cat brooch. After seeing the silver moon one, in "Gunbarrel," last year's season finale, that looked like Charlie, hanging on one of the trees outside the ruins of Sleigh House, I thought for SURE that it was hers!!! Who else's could it be!?

I CHERISHED the absolute MOM Moment Vic has at the end of this episode, where she's just so DONE!!!! She doesn't care that the world's on fire, doesn't care that her son is a soulless vampire that just stabbed her, she's freaking HAD it!!!

"BRUCE WAYNE MCQUEEN!!!!" She yells in unhinged reprimand, finding her Mom voice, as she charges him, wrests the scissors out of his hands, hurling them away, and hauls him up off the ground, even while he's kicking and screaming!!! He's surly in his protest, yelling out how much he'll hate her, and never forgive her, if she takes him away, calling out for Charlie to come save him!!! That was so freaking fantastic, again, such a raw, real human moment in the midst of the supernatural cacophony. The coloured lights flicker before they go dead, plunging Christmasland into complete darkness.

"Christmas is over, isn't it?"

"Yeah Bats..... It's over."

Or is it.......? I have it on good authority, from Father Christmas himself, no less that Christmasland is FOREVER......... Let's hope Charlie Manx and the Wraith are too, as our seductive villain's dreams go up in flames. Here's to the SERIES BEST EPISODE, and to our beloved supernatural fantasy, NOS4A2 getting renewed for SEASON 3!!!! Christmasland in flaming ruin, his son and daughter strewn, both forsaken, Charlie find the Wraith, and save your soul, else your winter reverie will be naught, but a smoking hole. You have to fight, you have to make it!!! Turn the key, Charlie, it's time........ to get CREATIVE!!!!

[kbear3201]

Sims 4 Legacy Challenge

I fell in love with Lilsimsie’s Not So Berry Challenge, this challenge was inspired by it but I made sure to make it different. Gen 10 Is the closest this gets to her challenge but it is still different. Originally I was going to assign colors but ended up deciding against it which you may notice with some of the traits. I like to give my sims one negative trait to make things more realistic and fun for myself. Some Sims have more of a loose story so any story tellers can tell their story as they please.

I admit I’m still playtesting this challenge, if I find things that need changes I will come back and fix them, if you play please help me find anything that’s ether too hard or makes no sense.

I have a few bonus Sims, some of which are not yet listed as I haven’t completed them. 

I don’t have a set of challenge rules as I want people to play this as they wish, whether you make it a rags to riches or just play with the challenge itself.

Now for the Challenge:

Gen 1: Passionate Painter

You have a fiery love.. For art! Art has always caught your eye more than people ever have, and you’re honestly fine with that. Painting is your passion! You can really express your emotion with it, but some people will never understand. No one would suspect, but you’re a health nut.

Traits: Hot Headed, Self-Assured, Art Lover.

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire

Challenge Goals:

Complete your aspiration

Reach level 10 of the painting skill

Reach level 10 of the Painter career

Keep all of your first paintings (small classic, medium classic, large classic, etc.)

First date must be at museum

Only eat healthy foods

Make at least one of each painting

Have two kids

Gen 2: Friendly Baker

Food can be art too, and it's also yummy. You are a people person, and your favorite way of making friends is through treats and parties! Treats brings people together and tastes so good while doing so. You love treats, maybe a little too much. People are surprised you love sweets so much when your founder was such a healthy eater.

Traits: Glutton, Outgoing, Self-Assured

Aspiration: Friend to the world

Challenge Goals:

Complete your aspiration

Reach level 10 of Baking skill

Keep your Founder’s first ever painting

Make at least one of each item in the baking list

Have at least 5 friends, including your forever best friend from childhood

Have a penpal

Be good friends with your sibling

Have more than 1 kid

Gen 3: Master Chef

Growing up you had all the treats you could ask for, but there's so much more to food!

Traits: Foodie, Perfectionist, Outgoing

Aspiration: Master Chef

Challenge Goals:

Reach level 10 of Cooking and Gourmet Cooking skills

Complete Aspiration

Inherit Founder's first painting

Make at least one of each item both the Cooking and Gourmet Cooking list

Don't let anyone else cook or get quick meals

Only make cake for someone's birthday

Gen 4: Classical Genius 

Your parent's comfort has always lied in food, but for you, it's music. The Violin has always had such a pretty sound that seems to calm your soul and speak to you. It's history is so fun and it's become your passion. From a little girl you've played a violin and over the years have grown in love with it.

Traits: Music Lover, Perfectionist, Creative

Aspiration:

Challenge Goals

Reach level 10 of Violin skill

Only listen to classical music

Inherit founder's first painting

Have 50,000 simoleons in savings at once

Be an adult before having kids

Have all of your children reach A student as child and teen

Have 1-3 kids

Gen 5: Rising Star

Your parent is all for the violin, but singing and playing the guitar is so much more fun. You love writing music after writing a love song for your first lover and after that you find it's your passion. You start publishing your songs and earn a following, landing you a spotlight and a voice in the world.

Traits: Creative, Ambitious, Clumsy

Aspiration: 

Challenge goals

Reach level 10 of singing career

Reach level 10 of guitar before you reach adult

Inherit founder's first painting

Have two partners before ether being with your forever Sim or deciding to stay single

Don't get married

Have 1 "oopsie" child, can be any of your lover's (or someone else’s)

OPTIONAL

If you have get famous, reach at least 4 stars of fame

Gen 6: Humble Farmer

For two generations your family has been tainted with riches and that's how you grew up. But you start to realize as a young adult that money is nothing but a distraction, true riches come from land and hard work. You move away with your parent's blessing and almost nothing to start a farm you can be proud of.

Traits: Outdoor Lover, Vegan, Clumsy 

Aspiration: Freelance Botanist 

Challenge Goals:

Reach level 10 of the Gardening Career

Move out as a young adult with only 20,000 simoleons and get the biggest lot available

Complete your aspiration

Inherit founder’s first painting

Don't get a Job

Only sell your crops (and crafts if you pick one up)

Have at least two crops for each season (if your crop can grow in more than one season it counts as one for all the seasons)

Have at least 3 kids, helping hands make lighter loads

Gen 7: Romantic Adventurer 

Growing up on the farm, you're not afraid to get your hands dirty. Adventure calls your name and you’re ready to answer. As a child you enjoy finding time capsules and frogs and exploring all types of mysteries. As a teen you find your neighborhood’s hidden world and as an adult you explore every inch of the Jungle. Beyond that, you dream of finding someone to take on these adventures.

Traits: Outdoor Lover, Jealous, Romantic

Aspiration: Jungle Explorer

Challenge Goals:

Reach level 10 or Archeology and Selvadorian culture skills

Complete Jungle Explorer Aspiration

From childhood, find frogs and collect time capsules

As a teen, find your neighborhood’s hidden world (Sylvan Glade for Willow Creek, Forgotten Grotto in Oasis Springs, Cave of Soulani, etc) If your neighborhood doesn't have a hidden world you may pick a hidden world of your choosing (leave Sixam for gen 10)

Inherit founder’s first painting

Explore the entire Jungle in your lifetime

Marry your third partner

Marry as an adult

Have at least one family adventure

Take your kids to the beach every weekend

Gen 8: Ocean Protector

The beach has always held a special place in your heart, it was the one place your parents brought you that really made you feel like you were a part of a family. Your parents never noticed your depression since teenhood and it sticks with you through your entire life. When it’s almost your young adult birthday, you run away to Sulani and find your beloved beach is in danger of nasty pollution. 

Traits: Outdoor Lover, Gloomy, Child of the Island

Aspiration: Beach Living

Challenge Goals:

Reach level 10 of Fitness skill ONLY THROUGH SWIMMING

Reach level 10 of Conservationist career Environmental Manager Branch

Complete Beach Living Aspiration

Inherit founder’s first painting

Have a best friend that lives in Sulani

When you’re about to age into a young adult, move to your best friend’s house

As a young adult, move into your own lot in Sulani

Invest lots of your time with your family, maybe even too much

Find suitors for all your children

Gen 9: Marine Biologist

Growing up on the beach, you love it as much as your parent does. But while they work towards saving it, you want to work towards learning about the creatures you’re saving. You love your parent but they never give you space and when you talk to them about it they’re very dismissive. You become very dependent on your parent.

Traits: Child of the Ocean, Gloomy, Genius 

Aspiration: Angling Ace

Challenge Goals:

Reach level 10 of the fishing and Parenting skills

Reach level 10 of the Conservationist career Marine Biologist

Complete Angling Ace Aspiration

Inherit founder’s first painting

Don’t move out of your childhood home until your parent dies

Marry your suitor and have 2 kids with them

After your parent’s death, devorce your suitor

Remarry a Sim with the Good trait and have at least one kid with them

Support all your children’s choices

Gen 10: Space Explorer

Your Parent has always supported all your dreams, you were always close with them and loved the stories of all the crazy creatures that live within the Sim world, but what about elsewhere? You look to the stars and dream of what could be out there, maybe you should be the one to find out. Your a funny Sim who enjoys making your friends and family laugh, which makes space life a little less tedious

Traits: Genius, Bookworm, Goofball

Aspiration: Nerd Brain

Challenge Goals:

Reach level 10 of Handiness and Rocket Science Skills

Reach level 10 of Astronaut career Space Ranger Branch

Complete Nerd Brain Aspiration

Inherit founder’s first painting

Have a close relationship with your parent

Build a rocket

Visit Planet Sixam

Marry as an Adult

Marry a co-worker

OPTIONAL

Meet an Alien (If you want to add occults to your story

BONUS SIMS

Gen 11: Unflirty Romance

While your parents heads were in the stars, yours was always in the books. You find it fascinating that someone can take your mind into whatever world they want to and you dream of sharing your own ideas with the world. You write Romance which some find strange due to you not being one for romance, what can you say? It’s so much easier in the books.

Traits: Bookworm, Creative, Unflirty

Aspiration: Bestselling Author

Challenge Goals:

Reach level 10 of Writing and Logic Skills

Reach level 10 or Writer career Author Branch

Complete Bestselling Author aspiration

Inherit founder’s first painting

Self Publish books until you reach level 6 of Writer career

Write 1 book for each child and gift it to them

Besides your children’s books, only write romance novels

Marry your best friend

OPTIONAL:

If you have Get Famous reach at least 3 stars of fame

Gen 12: Dr. Unflirty

Can you find love if it’s scary? Your Parent always wrote about romance but never displayed it for you. You want to find happiness with someone but will that be possible? You refuse to give up but dogs are so much easier! You love them and dream of caring for them as a vet. However, one little accident proves to make this harder than you originally thought.

Traits: Unflirty, Good, Dog Lover

Aspiration: Soulmate

Challenge Goals:

Reach level 10 of Charisma, Veterinarian, and Photography skills

Reach level 5 of Pet Trainer skills

Reach level 3 of any part time job before adult

Inherit founder’s first painting

Wait until you’ve raised the money to move out of your parents house

Make extra cash selling your pictures

As an Adult quit your babysitting job and become a vet

Have one child as a young adult (teen if you have the mods for it) this is your only child

[canarhys]

hazel levesque headcanons because i love her.

she’s an artist by the heart. not only does she know how to draw and paint, but she is also super good at writing poems and singing. she mostly sings r&b and indie rock, plus some jazz that reminds her of the times back in new orleans. she also plays the bass and has jam sessions constantly.

don’t tell anyone, but she adores activities like jump-rope and hula-hooping, since she’s really just a kid and she has so much energy in her tiny body that she needs to release it by doing kiddie games. she is currently the one of both camps with the highest number of skipping rope jumps, and she will demolish you in jacks.

she stims all the time. she likes bouncing on the balls of her feet and humming to herself, swinging herself back and forth whenever there’s nothing to do or she just feels like it. she plays with the bracelets around her wrists and snaps her fingers out of nowhere. she gets super flustered when someone points it out, so she tries to only do it around people she knows. luckily, her friends tell her that her mannerisms are great.

adrenaline junkie, all the way. piper had taken her ziplining one time and it was one of the best experiences of her life. she’s always the one to go first on a bungee jump, and will ride the tallest rollercoasters at the theme parks she visits. she loves the rush of freedom and euphoria as she drops at a ninety degree angle.

because of the retaliation she had received back in the past, she had stopped cursing for years and got super flustered whenever someone would curse. eventually, she becomes more accustomed to the modern era, and has started cursing once more. although poor jason had a heart attack when she suddenly yelled “fuck!” after she stubbed her toe on the table in the mess hall.

loves. astronomy. to death. she has always had a fascination for stars and planets and the moon, and leo had even gifted her a telescope for her birthday. she often finds herself on the crest of a hill, stargazing with the new tool and drawing the galactical objects into her special sketchbook. if she doesn’t become an illustrator when she’s older, she’ll definitely take the opportunity to become an astronaut.

is one of the strongest, if not the strongest, demigods who has ever lived. this isn’t even a headcanon, it’s pure fact. she can mold the precious metals she summons into sharp knives and spears, and she can manipulate the mist to trick monsters into attacking each other or attacking themselves, manipulating the battlefield to a shocking degree. despite her cheefulness and hopeful disposition, she is someone who should not be messed with at all costs. fuck with her, you perish by her hand.

as much as i love hazel’s spatha, i have something even better -- a scythe. during the quest of the seven, hazel gains a stygian gold scythe from her father (what’s stygian gold? it’s basically just gold dipped in the styx, like nico’s iron sword). she is deadly with it, even though she sometimes looks like she’s cutting grass whenever she wields it. she’s still thinking of a name for it.

has taken the opportunity to paint over all her clothes. she decorates her denim jackets and overalls with moons and stars, wears shirts that she has spray-painted herself, has shoes with embroidery of her design. she’s a goddamn artist, and she will be so till the very end of her days.

has made herself and all of her friends friendship bracelets. she does not even take them off when swimming, for they hold sentimental value to her. she would not even think of throwing them away, since she is desperate to live her second life to the fullest and make as many friendships as she can. for each friend, she makes two bracelets -- one for them, and one for herself. she can’t count how many she has. she doesn’t really care though.

eats spices like the queen she is. she obviously ate gumbo and jambalaya back then, so her taste buds rival the forges of hephaestus to a good degree. also, she can cook really well, and has replicated her mother’s recipes for everyone to enjoy.

her modes of transportation are literally either horse of bike. she rides arion when she needs to make it to destinations quick, since what else would you use the fastest horse alive for? however, if she’s looking for a calm and peaceful stroll, she may bring out her bicycle and bike through the neighborhood, enjoying the wind that beats lightly against her chest and causes her hair to flow in the wind.

also, she is a big horse girl. obviously, she loves arion to death and will never cease in making sure that he is properly cared for, offering him gold nuggets and placing flower crowns in his hair to brighten him up after a long journey. she is also seen constantly in the stables of the camps, chilling out with the horses and resting across their backs, even making arts & crafts as they watch with keen eyes. all of the horses would die for this tiny girl.

is small. she’s the smallest of the seven, but it’s like to the point where she needs to stand on the counter to reach things on the top shelf. she can’t even reach the microwave of the argo ii. the seven make jokes about it from time to time, but if someone else other than them makes fun of hazel for her height, she and/or her friends will unleash the beast.

her fatal flaw is guilt. i used to think it was fear, but i think that is more of piper’s fatal flaw, and her flaw listed in the riordan wiki is too vague and confusing. so it is guilt. she has a problem with beating herself up, not just in large instances such as raising alcyoneus or letting two of her friends fall into tartarus, but in small instances as well. she is guilty over forgetting a birthday even if she does not know that person, she is guilty over being too much for her friends to handle -- she has a guilt complex over the smallest issues to the biggest problems. it had taken control of her life since her mother had looked at her as if she were some sort of mistake. hazel has a ton of mental issues that even the fandom ignores.

but she has friends. they are her family, her ride-or-die and she will fight for them as they will for her. sometimes she is scared they will leave her, that they will realize just how useless she is. but she is not. she is hazel levesque, hero of olympus, and her friends are her home. and through them, hazel can learn to love herself.

[jadenjace]

𝑏𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑎 𝘩𝑜𝑚𝑒 .

⤿ ⋆ JADEN JACE LAPOINTE | TWENTY-EIGHT | MAINE ➜ ATLANTA | UNEMPLOYED

okay so a little rework / role-change . i should’ve done this a long time ago , but jaden is probably one of my most developed muses and he is so loved by me that it makes my heart hurt a little bit . he’s twenty-eight ( his birthday is soon so .. presents please ) , born and raised in alabama and freshly moved in from maine to settle into a new life with his lovely girlfriend @saintezrajean​ . jaden has recently been in hospital after losing part of his leg and is still healing enough to be fitted with a prosthetic so don’t be alarmed if he’s hobbling about on crutches for a while .

also , if you’ve been around for a while he’s kind of a gender-bent version of BJ ( who i’m considering re-writing and bringing back too perhaps ... ) i seriously want connections with everybody and will be reaching out to bother anyone who even sniffs around this intro post .

TW : car accident , mental illness , amputation , injury .. all that good stuff .

@atlanta-rpgstarters​

character info –

Name: Jaden Lapointe Age: Twenty-Eight Pronouns: He/Him Hometown: La Fayette, Alabama Time lived in Atlanta: One month Occupation: Unemployed Character Quote: i've begun to heal in all the places your hands have been / there's a battle i must fight alone but it’s you I'm fighting for

biography –

1991 brought the birth of the greatest lapointe child , at least according to jaden himself. he was always a little rocket running excitedly from place to place , high-energy , much to the despair of his parents who were left with the task of keeping up . their lifestyle in the early years suited the little powerhouse – his mother and father loved the travelling life and before he was even old enough to speak they’d state-hopped and explored every hidden nook and crevice that the world had to offer . being that young he didn’t realise that it was due to his father’s native american roots – alabama wasn’t known for their open minds , especially twenty odd years ago , and the idea of his mother marrying a man anything other than white seemed unheard of . circumstances relaxed with the realisation that hilary was pregnant again and they settled in maine now things had calmed , the small closed off town that didn’t seem to have enough space for a boy desperate to see it all . thankfully , unlike his rather conservative and old-fashioned grandmother she heard so much about , hilary let jaden do pretty much whatever he wanted ( within reason , of course ) . it started off with semi-permanent hair chalks , washable markers on pale skin , an ear piercing when he was old enough to sign the forms , then another , an impulsive nature taking root and leaving him with some questionable scars and stick ‘n’ poked imagery .

during high school he never fit in , but unlike some of the ‘ loser ‘ kids he didn’t fit the mould for the simple reason that he didn’t fucking want to . he didn’t care if teachers told him to dye his hair a normal color , to take those ‘ foul pieces of metal ‘ out of his face , he was there to have fun and maybe learn along the way .. even if not much of it got through . one passion though was science class . it was the only textbook that wasn’t filled with doodles of galaxies and moons , of little aliens and crazy spaceships , simply because outer space didn’t seem so far away when he was learning the facts . if he had been more dedicated maybe he would’ve become an astrologer , an astronaut maybe ; the dream is still there somewhere at the back of that spacey mind of his , and one day he hopes she might actually touch the stars instead of just gaze up at them . alongside the nerdy part of his mind was his sporty nature , gravitating toward the basketball team ( which was the only crumb of street credibility he could get his hands on ) and frequenting the skateboard to try , and fail , complicated tricks until they were finally perfected . 

meeting ezra was a turning point in the boy’s life . their relationship began with a fateful meeting , a few awkward encounters across the basketball court and in her previous job at the movie theatre . asking her on a date was something that would impact his future in more ways than one , both positively and detrimentally .. on the drive to the arcade for their first real moment as a couple their car flipped and , in a final moment of sacrifice , tipped over on the driver’s side and in turn crushed the lower half of his right leg . beyond repair , the male was forced to have it  amputated merely a month ago . with his existence put into perspective the couple decided to uproot and move somewhere with more options , more opportunities to heal , grow and recover from a moment so traumatic it was difficult for the both of them to cope , using money gifted from the lapointe parents ( who had practically adopted ezra at this point ) and some stashed away from savings they managed to find a little apartment to rent between them . it’s now their sanctuary , and jaden spends most of his days cooped up playing video games or watching cult movies to distract himself from the ever present demons inside of his head .

personality  –

if there was one word to describe him in the dictionary it would be a GOOFBALL – nothing is taken seriously , which is maybe a downfall when he comes anywhere close to a halfway serious conversation or figuring ‘adult’ things out for himself . everything is a joke , followed by a witty comment or obscure reference , a type of humour that would’ve been suited to a late-night television host if he had half the confidence to execute such a thing . jaden never takes anything seriously , before his accident and after it . jokes have been his coping mechanism and they’d continue to be for the near future at least , the only way he is able to forget about what happened to him and figure out a way to cope is through puns , quips and jokes at his own expense . unfortunately for the boy that attempts to be a ball of sunshine 99% percent of the time he is haunted in flashbacks by his accident , old film reels that play back in his mind at the most inconvenient of times . jaden doesn’t admit to many people that late nights are spent fighting tears or crying so hard his head pounds , hiding from the outside world beneath countless of sheets just for a hint of solace , a sanctuary among the fear . 

[ms-aleli]

My MC - Rosalynn “Lynn” Day and her daughter Synnove (means “Gift of Sun”). I HC Lynn as a second-generation immigrant from Filipino parents because I was inspired by Alma and Thomas. I hope you like this.

PROLOGUE

There’s nothing a mother would not do for her child.

It’s the one truth that Rosalynn “Call me Lynn” Day, has lived with even before her wonderful took her first breath all those years ago.

It’s the one truth that became her foundation when her daughter was born.

It’s the one truth she dedicated herself to when her ex-husband left the two of them to fend for themselves.

For her daughter, there’s nothing she wouldn’t do; no mountains she wouldn’t cross; no risk she wouldn’t face head on; and as today would prove, no place she wouldn’t move to.

That’s how she found herself driving all the way to Goldcliffe, a place she never even thought she’d ever be going to, and ready to leave all the security of her life in Seacrest behind her.

As she turns to park next to an immaculate silver Lexus, she looks at the seat beside her to see her daughter visibly nervous. Her lips curve to a smile as she thinks back to the letter she got two weeks ago that she has read over a hundred times already.

Dear Ms. Day,

Your scholarship application has been reviewed, and you have been approved for the next phase.

Please bring your child to the Bernhardt main office on May 22 at 10:15 AM for a brief interview.

Regards,

Anne Tinsley

Principal

Bernhardt Academy

The letter never fails to incite the mix of emotions within her - pride, disbelief, pride, gratefulness, and pride again. It doesn’t help that her mind returns to the meeting with her daughter’s previous principal, Ms. Gupta, who commended her daughter’s intelligence and even pushed for this scholarship.

It was nice that there are people in the world who would not let her daughter’s bright flame diminish because of her unfortunate lack of money to send her daughter to a high-end school where she would shine best.

At present though, she can see her daughter’s bright flames dwindle as she fidgets nervously on her seatbelt.

“You ready to go, kiddo?” She reaches over to smooth her daughter’s brown hair from her face.

Her daughter’s eyes meet hers and she can see how truly anxious she feels. “I-I guess so,” she mumbles as she looks down to avoid her gaze, “but, Mom, what if I’m not smart enough to go here?” Her eyes look outside the window of their car and she can see how it could be jarring to her young daughter.

In comparison to the public elementary school her daughter went to, Bernhardt’s building stood tall and imposing. Even the exterior screams at Lynn that she’s out of her league.

But no, this is for her daughter’s future and she knows that her daughter will thrive better in this kind of school.

“Hey, hey, none of that now, Synnove Day,” Lynn took her daughter’s face on her hand and gently made her raise her head so their eyes could meet. “You are a star. You’re smart and talented and hey, remember what Ms. Gupta said? You’re way above your age group in terms of smarts and I know you’re going to crush this, okay?”

Synnove bit her lower lip, “But what if I can’t do it? What if I screw up?”

“You won’t,” Lynn says with the conviction of a mother - unbending. “I know it’s hard for you to speak up sometimes, but if you start to freeze, then you just remember that mom believes in you. I know you can do this.”

Lynn can see the way her words affects her daughter - Synnove sits straighter, eyes gazing outside to the Bernhardt building now with a mixture of excitement alongside her nervousness.

“Do you need an energy zap?” Lynn smiles as her daughter give a nod and hold out her finger. She meets it with hers and grins, “Zzzzzap.”

“Zzzzzap!” Her daughter chimes.

Lynn breaks off and helps her daughter out of the seatbelt, “Alright, sunshine, you’re all charged up and ready to kick butt.”

“Mom, I can do it myself,” Synnove whines but there’s a beam on her face as she exits the car.

The inside of Bernhardt Academy is even larger than it was outside. Lynn almost got lost if it wasn’t for the kind security guard who directed her to Ms. Tinsley’s office.

“Good morning, I’m Rosalynn Day with my daughter, Synnove for an interview with Ms. Tinsley at 10:15?” Lynn approaches the secretary with an amicable smile.

The secretary is a young woman who didn’t have a friendly face but she was polite as she waved them to the cavernous office where a grey-haired black woman sat behind an imposing desk.

Lynn smiles as she moves forward to shake the woman’s hand, “Hi, I’m here for the scholarship interview? I’m Lynn Day, and this is my daughter, Synnove.”

“Hello,” Synnove’s voice is soft and she hides behind her, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Principal Tinsley,” the woman says and motions to the plush armchair in front of the desk, “Please, have a seat.”

Lynn didn’t even get the chance to be comfortable on the obviously high-class armchair as Principal Tinsley went straight to the interview.

“What, in your opinion, is the most important value to instill in our children?” She asks.

Lynn blinks and wonders why she’s the one being interviewed instead of her daughter, but she answers honestly, “It’s important to teach them curiosity. It’s important that we encourage our kids to question how things work - to explore, to love learning.”

Principal Tinsley raises an eyebrow, taking down a few notes. She looks at her paper for a hot second before saying, “I see here that you’re not currently a resident of Goldcliffe?”

“Oh, well, if Synnove were to receive this scholarship, we’d look for a place to live in town,” she answers.

The way that the principal’s microexpression spoke volumes and Lynn knows she’s not about to like where this line of question is going. “Do you think that would be economically feasible given your current job as a… waitress?”

Lynn felt indignant but tampers it down for daughter’s sake. “I’ve managed to save a little for the potential move, and I’d find a job as soon as--”

The principal cut her off, firing, “To maintain this scholarship, you are required to be a member of our PTA, which would be a considerable time commitment.”

“Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem, I’m used to balancing a lot of responsibilities,” she says. What she doesn’t say is that she has plenty of experience, what with juggling three to four jobs just to save for her daughter’s future.

“I’m sure,” Principal Tinsley says. She then returns her eyes to the paper and taps her pen on it, “I notice you’ve left the father section of the application blank. Would you be so kind as to tell me about Synnove’s father?”

Lynn can feel the rising of the familiar rage inside her but she tries to stamp it back down as she forces a smile on her face, “Synnove’s father hasn’t been on the picture for a while now.”

The principal frowns and makes a note on it. What ‘it’ is, Lynn doesn’t know. But the silence that follows does not bode well for her.

“Are-are there any more questions you need me to answer?” She asks. “Or, do you have any questions for my daughter?” since it is her merits that should be on focus right now, she doesn’t say.

“Ms. Day,” Principal Tinsley says with a sigh, “I’m going to be frank. I was not impressed by your daughter’s application.”

From the corner of her eyes, she sees Synnove stiffen. The way that she holds herself close as if she wants to hide causes Lynn to feel anger rise within her.

“I-but your letter--”

Principal Tinsley cuts her, “My vice principal was moved by Ms. Gupta’s glowing letter, but I see nothing here that suggests your daughter is Bernhardt material.”

A part of Lynn wants to stand and ask the principal to fight her for her daughter’s honor but she settles for the indignant cry, “Are you serious? She’s already reading at ninth-grade level!” She clenches her fist under the table, “What about the science project I mentioned?”

Principal Tinsley does not look impressed as she gives a cursory look at the paper, “Ah yes, the Saturn model,” she says blandly. “While it was very… artistic, it hardly proves she has any detailed understanding of the--”

“I understand a lot about Saturn!” Her daughter, whose dream since she was a toddler was to become an astronaut and had studied every single book in the public library, cries out. Her face is red and her brows are scrunched as she defends her passion, “I wanted to make the Phoebe ring, but Mom said it wouldn’t fit in the car.”

Now, it was Principal Tinsley’s turn to be surprised, looking at Synnove as if she was something curious, “I’m sorry… the ‘Phoebe ring’?”

Synnove’s face suddenly brightens, and she leans forward in her chair, happy to chatter away about her favorite subject. “It’s so cool! It’s like nine point nine million miles from the planet, and it has a retrograde orbit!”

Seeing the surprised look on the principal’s face, Lynn saw a chance and says, “Sweetie, why don’t you tell the principal about Saturn’s compositions?”

Lynn has heard this a million times before, and she still can’t fully understand what her sweet daughter is yammering on, but she can see the way that Principal Tinsley’s eyes brightened as she listens to Synnove yammer on about how Saturn is a gas giant but the planet isn’t gas at all.

“Ooh! It’s also the only planet in our solar system that’s less dense than water.” The open delight on Synnove’s face never fails to make Lynn smile. Her little girl continues with a grin as she discloses a ‘fun fact’ to the principal, “That means that if you put it in a really, really big bathtub, it would float.”

Synnove’s face read clear as day, ‘isn’t that the coolest thing you’ve heard?’

Principal Tinsley stares down at her forms, then turns back to Synnove, looking suddenly thoughtful.

“Tell me, Synnove, how would you calculate the surface area of a sphere?”

Principal Tinsley’s careful words contrasted the way Synnove quickly pipes up, “Four pi times the radius squared.”

“What three things that distinguish insects from arachnid?”

“Insects have compound eyes, antennae, and six legs instead of eight.”

“What year was Marie Curie awarded the Nobel Prize?”

“Um, which one?” Synnove tilts her head, “Because she got one for physics in 1903 and one for chemistry in 1911.”

The curious look on Principal Tinsley’s face stays there, even as she sits back in her chair and take it all in. After a long moment, she turns to the proud mother and asks, “Synnove, she’s really only nine years old?”

“Nine and two-thirds!” Her daughter pipes up.

“And she’s wanted to be an astronaut since she was six. She’s got a whole life plan laid out - majoring in astrophysics, pilot’s license,” Lynn beams at her daughter.

Never let it be said that Lynn Day is a humble woman when it comes to her daughter. She’s a bragger and she can’t help it. Her daughter truly is amazing.

She turns back to the principal, “Of course, the first step is to enroll in an elementary with a famously strong STEM program, so…” she trails off.

There was silence in the room again. But this time, it’s not an uncomfortable silence.

Principal Tinsley sighs and gives a small smile, “Well, nothing’s official until all the paperwork is submitted, but,” she leans down and offers to shake the little girl’s hand, “Synnove Day, welcome to Bernhardt.”

[reddielibrary]

to the moon and back

prompt: eddie and richie stargazing for anonymous

written by: Tori | @imeddie​

word count:

click title to read on AO3

“Where exactly are we going?” Eddie asked, trying his best to trust Richie in leading him forward when he couldn’t see. Of course, the trust came at a cost, when every once in a while Richie tripped him up on something, whether it be a curb or the car door.

“Can’t ruin the surprise, Spaghetti! But I think you’re going to love it.” Richie said, an obvious grin reflected in his voice. Before Eddie could reply, Richie was squeezing his hand gently. “And no peeking, my love.” He reminded him. He knew Richie would tell him if he really wanted to know. But Richie knew he loved surprises.

Eddie had an interest in faraway places for as long as he, or any of his friends, could remember. As a kid he'd talk endlessly about exploring the entire world. He quickly fell in love with the lights of New York, the streets of London, the Grand Canal of Venice; or at least, he fell in love with the idea of them, and the photos. He'd never seen them for real.

Perhaps most notably, when he was eight years old, Eddie Kaspbrak fell in love with the stars.

It was the year he was finally old enough to participate in Career Day at school. Naturally, he was buzzing with excitement, dozens of pamphlets clutched in his tiny, indecisive hands. Every opportunity looked new and exciting to his adventurous tendencies. He was beginning to think he’d never choose.

Then he saw it. His wide eyes were trained on the large poster board, which displayed a photo of Earth, taken from space. Alongside it, photos of nebulae, of meteor showers. A photo of a man on the moon. He’d never known it was possible to visit places that weren't on Earth. It was like something straight out of Star Wars to Eddie.

“Mommy, I decided I want to be an astronaut!“

“Astronaut?” Sonia replied from her chair, and Eddie beamed from where he stood in the doorway, rushing over to drop the pamphlet in her lap. She barely glanced. “That’s nice, dear. But won't you have to go far away?”

And Eddie promised when he became an astronaut, he would take his mother with him in his space ship to see the entire galaxy. A promise that certainly didn’t withstand the test of time, because Eddie grew quite apart from her, and grew out of dreams of flying space ships. But he never lost his love for space. He was positive his friends were sick to death hearing about it, but there was at least one person in particular who Eddie always felt he could share his interest with. And that was his best friend, and now-boyfriend, Richie.

When they were fifteen years old, while lying out under the stars by the quarry, Eddie had gone off on an absolutely rage-fueled tangent about moon landing conspiracy theories. All the while Richie stared at him like he was the moon itself.

“Okay, what?” Eddie had finally asked with a soft huff. "You're staring at me funny."

“You’re just... really cute when you talk about this stuff, Eds.”

And Eddie had heard Richie call him cute dozens of times before, and he was prepared to roll his eyes, to tell him not to, but the way Richie looked at him then brought a light pink blush to his cheeks.

"What's cute about it?" He wondered.

"The way you light up." Richie explained, and when Eddie looked at him funny, Richie blushed so red it reached his ears.

Their first kiss was that night.

And of course many more followed while their relationship blossomed. As well as a good number of space related pick up lines on Richie’s part. Ranging all the way from much more sweet things like, “I love you to the moon and back”, to the more crass line he’d used upon seeing Eddie’s clothing just tonight: “Are those space pants? Because your ass is out of this world.” And for some reason, for some awful reason, Eddie adored it.

In fact, at seventeen now, Eddie and Richie were so inseparable that Eddie was shocked his boyfriend had even managed to spring a surprise anniversary gift on him, what with how little time they spent away from one another. But here he was, stumbling over his own feet one blindfolded car ride later.

As Richie held tightly to his hand, leading him inside and out of the chilly evening air, Eddie had a hard time not peeking to see where they were. The door clicked shut behind them, causing an echo in what must have been a large room.

“Wait here,” Richie said suddenly, a shaky quality to his voice. Eddie stood in place obediently while the sound of Richie’s movements on the carpeted floor faded. He could only assume Richie was becoming nervous, and he didn’t know why. Eddie would love anything they did together.

When Richie returned, he wordlessly led Eddie to sit down in a seat, placing a gentle hand on his chest to guide him to lean back.

“You can take the blindfold off,” Richie replied. And when Eddie tugged down the cloth from over his eyes, he was met with what appeared to be an empty amphitheater. He paused, glancing up, before back at Richie once again.

“The planetarium?” He asked once he recognized it.

Richie didn’t say anything, simply turning and giving a thumbs up to someone Eddie couldn’t see in the control panel room. The lights went down completely, leaving them in a brief darkness, before the ceiling above them lit up with an unbelievable view of the stars. Eddie took in the sight, while Richie reached down to lace their fingers together.

“It’s the night sky from the first night we kissed.” Richie hesitated, and his voice was still small, nervous, and he cleared his throat. Eddie was surprised by the information, his eyes snapping to his boyfriend, and heat rising to his cheeks. Richie was watching him with affection, and a little apprehension. "Do you like it..?”

"Richie, I love it." He assured him.

And when Eddie looked up and away from him again, his gaze raked over every star, every constellation he knew by name, every planet recognizable to the naked eye. He felt his breath catch in his throat, tears blurring the edges of his vision.

“How did you do this..?” He whispered, in awe.

“Let's just say I have connections,” Richie replied simply, a smug look on his face now that Eddie's reaction had given him his confidence back. But it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together on the fact Ben had started working here at the beginning of the summer. It was still an incredible romantic gesture on Richie’s part, and Eddie found himself reaching up to cup his boyfriend’s cheek, bringing their faces close enough to press their lips together.

“This is perfect.” He told him softly, and Richie watched him, a goofy sort of grin on his face.

“Happy anniversary, Eds.”

Eddie was in love with the lights of New York, the streets of London, the Grand Canal of Venice. Eddie was in love with the stars.

And Eddie was also in love with Richie Tozier.

Tagging: @princesass-theresa @r-u-reddie @stellarbisexual

let us know if you want to be tagged in the prompt fills

[agl03]

Since I see you are open to taking prompts based on season 3, I have always wanted to see a full role reversal monolith takes Fitz instead of Jemma and he gets to know a pretty young astronaut and the fallout from all that.

Hi Anon,

I’ve done a few Maveth/Role Reversed AU’s over the years now.  And took this prompt took in a different direction because I’m not going to do the Space Rando thing…rather I went more with a Role Reversed what should have been.

I hope you still like it.

Not for the first time in the weeks possibly months now since he’d been brought to the planet Fitz woke up with his entire body aching and head pounding.  What was new was the cool stone floor beneath him.  

Fitz slowly opened his eyes to get stock of his new surroundings.  The last thing he’d remembered was going to investigate a sound near his makeshift campsite and falling into a hole.  As if his luck hadn’t been rotten enough.   

As the area around him came into focus he realized not only was he in a subterranean cave but a cage as well.  In all the time he had been here he hadn’t come across another living things save for the monster plants he hunted in the water.  

“Way to go, Fitz,” he muttered to himself.  “It’s not enough a bloody rock eats you after you ask Jemma out to dinner but you have to go and get yourself captured as well.”

Fitz pulled himself to standing and shook the sturdy bars, cursing that whoever had built it had done it to last.   He thumbed the ropes that held the bamboo-like logs together and figured he could cut through it with the knife he’d made not long after arriving.  

He reached for the bag he’d fashioned out of his cardigan and to his horror realized it was gone.  

“No,” He muttered looking around the cage finding no sign of it.  

It had been awhile since he’d properly cried but realizing the bag was gone caused the tears to well in his eyes and him to slip to the floor.   The small bag not only containing the weapons and tools but the last connections he had to home.  The sweater a gift from his mom that had become one of his favorites and the phone inside.  The phone had his notes but even more importantly it had Jemma.  

Pictures, her voice, and it was his hope.  His reminder of what he was fighting to get back too.  After all, they had a date.

“Do something, you coward!” Fitz shouted moving back to the bars and shaking them.  

Fitz thought his screams had fallen on deaf ears and was about to try again when he heard shuffling coming from the tunnel leading into the room. 

He took a cautious step back as the humanoid looking figure appeared in the doorway.

“Your human!” Fitz exclaimed as the man stepped into the light.   

He looked to be about Coulson’s age, hair and trimmed beard more grey than black.  He wore the remains of a tattered flight suit, Fitz noting NASA symbols and the name a mission he didn’t recognize the agency ever launching.  Fitz’s bag was slung over his shoulder, the phone in his hand. The man’s eyes were dark and were studying Fitz just as intently.   

“You’re real,” he countered.  His voice gravelly and gruff from disuse.  

“Of course I’m real,” Fitz snapped.  “Now let me out of this bloody birdcage and give me my phone back.”   

The man looked down at the device but didn’t move.  Fitz forced himself to take a breath because losing his temper now wouldn’t get him anywhere aside from locked up longer.   

“My name is Leopold Fitz but go by Fitz.  I’m a scientist and engineer with Shield, I was brought here through a rock we were studying in the lab I think three or so months ago.   I mean you no harm.”

“My name is William Daniels but go by Bill.  I’m a United States Air Force Pilot turned astronaut with NASA and the Distant Star Mission.  I came here with the mission to map the planet, search for signs of life, and establish a more permanent portal.  Based on the date on your phone I have been here for fourteen years now.  I mean you no harm.”  

Once he was done Bill walked over and opened the door to the cage and offered the phone back.  “I’m sorry for locking you up.  I had to be sure you weren’t IT.”   

Fitz raised an eyebrow and gratefully took his phone.  He took a second to activate it long enough to see the picture of Jemma he’d made his home screen.  Her smiling face bringing a small one to his own for a moment.  

Satisfied it was okay he turned his attention back to Bill.  “IT?” He questioned.  

“IT,” Bill confirmed.  “It’s a creature that lives on the planet.  Over the years I have come to suspect it was the real reason for our mission.”  He paused again and looked around the makeshift prison.  “Come, this isn’t the place to be having this discussion.  I have rations that aren’t the best but I imagine better than whatever you’ve been managing to scrounge up on the surface.”

Fitz’s stomach answered for him as it let out a small growl.  “Lead the way.”

————————————————————–

Weeks Later-

Fitz sat just away from the hatch of the bunker his phone clutched in his hand.   It had been months since he’d been ‘captured’ by the older astronaut and after hearing his story had they began working together on a way to get home.

Bill had been trying for years tracking everything he could think of from the moons, stars, to the portals when he saw them.  Every time the way home out of his reach.  

NASA had also sent him with ample supplies from rations to an antiquated computer system Fitz had spent ages rewiring.   Once they were booted again Fitz would be able to run the final calculations and pinpoint when and where the portal would open.  

However, since the means to power the cells had been solar generators, a planet that never saw the sun meant that one the reserves were gone all those years ago they couldn’t be coaxed back to life.

Until now.

Fitz looked down at the phone in his hand and allowed himself to go beyond the home screen.  Something he hadn’t done in ages, not since he’d sat down with Bill one night to show him his friends and the infamous Jemma that Fitz never stopped talking about.  

Bill had quickly taken Fitz under his wing as the pair settled into working together.   He’d protect him while they were away from the bunker, made sure he ate and stayed hydrated when he got lost in the work, and offered a shoulder to cry on when the frustration and separation became too much.  They spent hours talking about their lives before being brought here and their plans for when they got home.

He ran his finger longingly over Jemma’s face.  “Hey Jemma,” he said quietly before he opened up his voicemail and hit play on the last one he’d received only a matter of minutes before he’d been whisked away.

“Fitz!” Jemma’s voice said coming over the speakers.  Simply hearing her voice again causing his eyes to water.   “Skye found out we were going on a proper date and drug me back to her bunk for what she is calling a proper outfit…Skye no that is far too short…so I’m going to be a little late.  I’ll meet you in the garage as soon as I can get away.”  She paused for a moment and there was the sound of a door closing.  When she spoke again her voice was softer as if she didn’t want Skye to overhear.  “I really can’t wait Fitz…I”ve been wanting to do this for a long time.  See you soon.”  

Fitz had been so lost in the message and looking at her picture that he didn’t notice Bill approaching until he sat down next to him.  He’d heard Fitz play that message so many times that he had it memorized himself.  

“You don’t have to do it,” Bill said as he placed a supportive hand on Fitz’s back.  “We can try doing the calculations by hand again.  I know how much this means to you and I don’t want you to lose it.”  

FItz didn’t take his eyes off her picture.  

“It’s the only way to power the computers and get the portal’s location,” Fitz said with a wavering voice.  “The portal gets me back to her and get you home too.”  

Bill pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and laid it on Fitz’s knee.  “You won’t have to give everything up,” he said smoothing out a beautifully drawn picture of Jemma, nearly a perfect copy of the picture.   Fitz felt his own voice fail him as he tried to express his gratitude for such a kind gesture.  

“Why don’t we have one more listen too,” Bill said.

“One more listen,” Fitz agreed as he hit play again

Once the message ended he closed the home screen for the last time and rose.  “I’ll see you soon Jemma.” Determined now more than ever to get back to her.

————————————————

“Fitz!”

“Jemma!” Fitz screamed into the sandstorm whipping around them as he tried to fight his way to where her voice was coming from.

Their first attempt to get through the portal had been a partial failure, the opening across a canyon they knew the wouldn’t be able to cross.   But they didn’t let the opportunity pass them by.  Bill shooting a message in a bottle through that was full of not only letters to their friends and family but contained many of their own notes as well.

“Jemma!” Fitz screamed again and clutched at Bills sleeve.  The other man on alert with his gun drawn looking for any sign of IT.  

“Fitz!” her voice came again and Fitz found it was coming from the bottom of the hill they were atop. Not far from where the flare had lit up the sky just hours before.

“There,” Fitz shouted and pointed through the storm.  Only to have his stomach drop when a dark cloaked figure caught both of their attention.  IT steadily walking through the storm that it had created, towards them…

“Fitz!”

Towards Jemma Fitz realized in a panic.  

“Go,” Bill said as he pushed him back.

FItz grabbed at his sleeve again to pull him along.  Shocked when Bill pulled away.  “We have to go!” Fitz insisted “Now!”

“I’ll hold it off, you go” he said raising his weapon at the oncoming monster.

“No, I can’t just leave you here, not after all this,” Fitz said hearing Jemma call his name again.  He knew time was running out for all of them.  

Bill smiled kindly and placed a firm hand on Fitz’s shoulder “I’ve lived my life now go live yours with Jemma.  Let me do my part in stopping that thing from ever getting to earth.”

Fitz was ready to argue again when Bill suddenly moved and shoved Fitz down the hill.  

The engineer cried out as he rolled down the dunes while a gunshot rang out as he hit the bottom.

“No!” He screamed looking to the top, hopeful that Bill would have shot the beast and chosen to follow.  But when his friend didn’t appear he knew time was slipping away.  The portal wouldn’t stay open forever nor could they risk the creature making its way to it.

“Fitz please!” Jemma cried again her voice cracking in emotion.  

“Jemma!” he called again and he forced his battered and exhausted body into motion as he ran to her through the storm.

It took a few more agonizing seconds before he could make out a figure in the haze.  “Jemma!” he called again as she whipped around, a beautiful smile lighting up her face.

She ran to him and tackled him to the ground with the force of her embrace.  FItz pulled her tight and nearly lost her when she was pulled back without warning.  

Fitz clutched to her as hard as he could as the rope attached to Jemma’s waist pulled the both back.  Each one getting cuts and bruises as they were drug across the rocks.  Jemma somehow managing to twist and get part of the line wrapped around his arm and securing him to her.  

She wasn’t going to lose him again, not now, not when she was so close to getting him back.

“Hold on,” She said as the portal came into view and the darkness enveloped them both.

———————————————————–

Three Months Later-

They stood hand in hand in the meadow as the sun began to peak over the horizon.  

“Are you ready?” Jemma asked quietly.  

Fitz closed his eyes and allowed the sunlight to wash over him.  Even though he had been back for months he didn’t think he’d ever take for granted soaking up the warm rays ever again.  

“I’m ready,” he finally said and reluctantly let go of her hand to pick up the metal box he had brought with him.  

“In Remembrance of William Daniels” etched onto the lid and its contents the few items that Fitz had on him when he was brought back from Maveth.  

Carefully he laid it into the ground taking a moment to say thank you one last time to the man that had helped get him home and given his life in the process.  When Fitz was done Jemma took her turn laying a rose on top of the box.

“Thank you,” she whispered forever grateful to the man she would never meet.  

[blackjacketmuses]

peacock blue, burnt umber, currant, aubergine, honey, anise, new leaf, sanguine, for any/all dr muses!

peacock blue: is your muse honest? what sorts of lies do they tell, if not?

Kokichi: HAHAHA. The boy is absolutely not honest 90% of the time. The concept of honesty scares him. It's a sign of vulnerability and letting someone in that a kid in the system with a truckful of trust issues can't afford. But for the most part, his lies are -- as he likes to put it -- kind lies. He lies to make people comfortable, make them smile and laugh. He lies to himself for the same reasons. He hates telling lies to deliberately hurt people or to be cruel. He will if he has to, though.Nagito: He does his best to be honest most of the time, to rather blunt and tactless levels. He really doesn't register the truth can hurt or that it's not okay sometimes to just be that honest about things. It's just easier to cut to the heart of the matter that way. He thinks it's truly a good thing to be honest with people. Though if he's got A Plan going or A Goal in mind, he'll say whatever he has to to achieve it.Rantaro: He's pretty much average teen when it comes to honesty levels. He tends to be capable of some pretty bold-faced lies if he needs to be, and lies a lot about whether or not he's okay -- he holds himself to Big Brother Standards, and that means he has to keep it together on the outside even if he's hurting or upset. He doesn't like to lie to people younger than him, but he's more likely to lie to an adult or someone he doesn't like/respect.

Fuyuhiko: Similar to Rantaro, he's somewhere in the middle, but he leans a little more towards lying. He's good at the sort of tsundere Fuck All Of You I Hate You lie and acting like and claiming he doesn't care and that he's more of an asshole than he is. It's a self-directed lie more than anything, and he's slowly learning to stop.

Kaito: Generally pretty honest, mostly because he now and forever has a terrible poker face, but he's a bit more prone to lying than he was in the game. He has a few trust issues of his own, funnily enough, and tends to keep most people at arms’ length, so he uses friendly lies to distance himself from others. That’s still the case with strangers and acquaintances really, but...he’s a bit more like his game persona these days, a little more open and honest with people he cares about.

Nagisa: He's very honest! His life's basically taught him that lying only gets you hurt, especially if you get caught, so if he doesn't want to tell the truth he tends to just stay quiet. He also knows how adults lie to children, so he wants to make sure they know they have someone who won't.

burnt umber: how stable is your muse, mentally and/or emotionally?

Kokichi: Mmmm, I'd say somewhere more towards stable, but definitely not stable. He's good at lying to himself, and generally before the game he was happy -- if chronically under-stimulated and constantly bored -- and...even if he wasn't well adjusted at all (see: trust issues and compulsive lying) he was stable. The game kicked a lot out from under him in the worst way, and he's struggling to find where his equilibrium went. While the issues he had going in are oddly slightly better, the game gave him a new set in the form of paranoia, anxiety, and a shakier sense of self. He's not in a bad way, but he's...eh.

Nagito: Stable? Nagito? Pffffahahahaha. On his best days he's about 60-65% stable. He's not brainwashed or in Despair anymore, thankfully, but all the same, he's definitely not a stable person, not with his assloads of trauma and anxiety and depression. He's gotten a lot better post Program with Hajime and the others’ help, but given his dementia, he'll never be completely stable.

Rantaro: Stable! He...has some lasting issues from the games he was in -- going in twice was a shitty idea -- but all in all, he’s actually really resilient mentally, and has managed to mostly cope pretty well with his trauma. He does have bad days where he gets anxious and paranoid and a little clingy towards his sisters, but for the most part, he’s actually fairly stable, and enjoys being one of the rocks for the other kids.

Fuyuhiko: Weirdly, he’s...probably one of the most stable members of 77-B. Don’t ask him, he has no idea how this happened. But he is. The worst trauma aside from the brainwashing he took was losing his sister and Peko in the Program, and he managed to pull himself up from that and become Hajime’s second, and fight and be one of the survivors, and...he was actually one of the least eccentric and weird Ultimates to begin with -- attitude problems and being an Actual Yakuza aside he’s pretty level-headed -- so he actually manages pretty well.

Kaito: Again, another really resilient person, he was one of the quickest of the late-game kids to bounce back. He is one of the major rocks and tries to help everyone recover, and even if even he has some bad days where he just doesn’t want to deal with anyone, he’s coping very well. Definitely a stable kid.

Nagisa: Well, I wouldn’t say “stable”, but he’s the most stable of the Warriors of Hope. He has flashbacks and triggers like the other kids, but he’s far more balanced and level than the others, and he tries to be calm and mature most of the time. He’s not okay, but he definitely is the most stable of the kids.

currant: what's something that absolutely disgusts your muse (can be a person, place, thing, ect)?

Kokichi: Killers and murderers. Well, specifically, real life ones. Fictional ones get leeway because they’re not real, but real people? Nope. Hard no. Hates it and hates them on principle. Taking a life is literally the worst thing he can think of out of all worst things ever. 

Nagito: Does Junko Enoshima count? She counts. He hates her with everything he has and then some, just- absolute sheer blinding age and loathing.

Rantaro: Deadbeat dads and men who skip out on their lovers once they get pregnant and men who have lots of girlfriends at the same time and lie to them all. This may be related to some deep-set daddy issues. He’s well aware.

Fuyuhiko: Breaking vows or oaths? He’s really insistent on that kind of thing because of his upbringing, so it really fucking gets him when people just-- dishonorable stuff is a hard no and he’ll be Really Fucking Pissed.

Kaito: Fair-weather friendship. Just...it’s a huge thing for him, and he really hates it. If you’re someone’s friend, you stick with them, you care about them, you don’t just....it really bugs him when people are that shallow and petty about friendships.

Nagisa: Needles and hospital equipment and the smell of disinfectant, also plain oatmeal/rice porridge.

aubergine: does your muse prefer the day, or are they more of a night-owl?

Kokichi: Night time is best time for setting up pranks.

Nagito: Night-time! It’s quieter.

Rantaro: Daytime, more time to get stuff done.

Fuyuhiko: Day, he’s not much of one for staying up super late.

Kaito: Night time, even before the game. Had to get the Astronaut talent from somewhere! He loves astronomy. 

Nagisa: Nighttime, it’s quieter and when adults sleep so he can have time to himself, and time to think.

honey: when your muse loves someone (whether it be romantic, platonic, or familial love), how do they show it?

Kokichi: Affection, gifts -- custom-made gifts at that, nicknames, and most importantly, if he really loves you, he’ll be honest with you.

Nagito: He is absolutely ridiculous when he loves you, he will literally do anything for you, anything at all, the moment he thinks you need something. He’ll praise you constantly, try to cheer you up and make you happy, and be very verbally affectionate. He’s not one to be physically affectionate, but if he is, that means you have earned a lot.

Rantaro: He’s very awkward, but if he loves you, he’ll do things for you. Help you with things any way he can, and make time for you as often as he can, and he’ll bring you souvenirs from his trips.

Fuyuhiko: A Fuyuhiko that loves you is one that’s a lot softer and less prickly than normal, and who will move mountains for you if asked. Or kill someone for you, really, it depends.

Kaito: He’s super aggressively affectionate, nicknames and all, arms around shoulders, just...he’s a very touchy warm person if he loves you. Just try to spend as much time as possible with you.

Nagisa: He loves you? He’ll trust you. He’ll trust you and feel safe enough with you to act a little more like the kid he is.  

anise: when it comes to self-care, what does your muse do to take care of themselves? do they take care to spend time on it, or do they feel they don't deserve it?

Kokichi: On bad days, he becomes a blanket monster and plays video games all day. He just needs distracting and sugar to comfort him, someplace warm and safe. Whether or not he deserves it is irrelevant, he knows he needs it.

Nagito: Pffft, self care. What’s that, can you eat it? (Not that he would eat it if it was edible.) He’s terrible at it even when he actually remembers it’s an actual thing he needs to do, and he really doesn’t tend to think he deserves it. 

Rantaro: Hot baths with as much girly soothing bath products as he can manage and a long nap, preferably cuddled up with his little sisters. If nap isn’t feasible, then just watching some mindless anime with them. He absolutely knows this is necessary to help him heal, so...yeah, he takes his time.

Fuyuhiko: It’s...hard for him to say? What is self care exactly, is that curling up with Peko after a bad day and just talking, or just appreciating that she’s here? Is it letting himself binge on sweets because fuck you if he needs sweets right now he’s going to eat them? If so, then...yeah. After all the shit that’s happened, he deserves some good things.

Kaito: Taking his bike out to a hill outside town at dusk and watching the stars come out. Lying in the grass all night and just watching the sky, maybe bring some snacks with him and listen to music and unwind, lose himself in the night sky. It helps a lot, and it always has. Now more than ever he needs it.

Nagisa: PFFFFT. He’s just as bad as Nagito. He doesn’t even know what that means. He’s not allowed to have nice things unless he Does His Best and Exceeds Expectations. Why else would you have nice things?

new leaf: what message would your muse send to their past self, if any

Kokichi: Don’t sign up for that stupid game, you idiot. or For fuck’s sake, please, please try to trust one person in the game, anyone, just one person. 

Nagito: You’ll learn what hope is one day, and you’ll be loved. Keep going.

Rantaro: It’s not worth it. As much as you love the show, it’s seriously not worth it.

Fuyuhiko: Just fucking tell her you absolute fucking moron.

Kaito: Hang in there, man. It’s going to be a fucking shitshow, but you’ll get what you wanted. You’ll have real friends.

Nagisa: She’s lying to you. Take the others and go before it’s too late to run, make your paradise on your own.

sanguine: does your muse typically have an optimistic, pessimistic, or some middle ground outlook on life?

Kokichi: He’s pretty realistic a person. Tries to be optimistic, but honestly, he’s pretty much a ‘prepare for and expect the worst, be pleasantly surprised when something good happens’ type. He’s not full on pessimistic, though! Life is pretty okay.

Nagito: The worst pessimist ever, though he’s good at pretending to be a bit more optimistic. God, though, he absolutely 100% expects the worst at all times. Even though he has his fixation on hope, it’s...that doesn’t really overwrite how much he tends to be a pessimist.

Rantaro: He’s a realist, but an optimistic tending one. The best isn’t always gonna happen, of course, but...y’know, it’s good to hope for the best.

Fuyuhiko: Very realist, not leaning either way. Shit happens, but he’s learned to have hope at least a little.

Kaito: Optimistic! Or, he tries to be. He’s not quite so good about it in reality as he is in the game. But attempts are made.

Nagisa: Pfft. Definitely a pessimistic-leaning realist, kinda sad for someone so young.

[johngallianotheking]

John Galliano

FALLEN ANGEL Maison Margiela Artisanal designed by John Galliano coat

 Maison Margiela designed by John Galliano jacket

Photographed by Paolo Roversi

John Galliano Is Taking Things Step by Step at Maison Margiela - The Wall Street Journal

OPPOSITE AN orthopedics store and a scruffy bar in Paris’s 11th arrondissement sits an old convent building, its facade saturated with decades of grime. Across a cobbled courtyard lined with old latrines, a few flights up a stone staircase, is a rambling room decorated with antique eccentricities—from a vintage model ship to an articulated mannequin—like an attic of curiosities pilfered from Miss Havisham’s house. Into this room bounds a Brussels griffon, followed by a man wearing an odd assemblage of long trouser shorts, sneakers, a yellow T-shirt and a wool sweater slightly unraveling at the collar. “That’s Gypsy,” he announces. “She’s a recovery dog. I never had a dog before—it was just very good for me to be responsible and to not always think about myself.” He chuckles happily.

This is John Galliano, and he could not have chosen a more fitting place to hole up, if that is what he had intended to do. For the past three years, Galliano, 57, has been creative director at Maison Margiela, the fashion house founded in 1988 by avant-garde designer Martin Margiela, who elevated privacy to performance art: Only a few photographs of Margiela are known to exist, and he often veiled the faces of models in his runway presentations, or forwent humans altogether to show his clothes on stark clothes hangers. “Anonymity: A reaction against the ubiquitous star system, the desire to let the ideas do the talking,” reads an official Margiela “glossary” from 2009. In 2004, Maison Margiela took over this 18th-century building, whitewashing the crumbling interiors in keeping with the designer’s affinity for white, both for its cleansing properties and because it highlights imperfections. The space is just four miles but a world away from the primly perfect dove-gray hallways at the Avenue Montaigne headquarters of Dior, which Galliano helped build into a pulsing $1.1 billion empire—until he was fired days before the fall/winter 2012 show when a video of him drunkenly making anti-Semitic remarks at a Parisian bar became international news.

It would be easy to conceal oneself within Margiela’s cloistered heritage, but Galliano has nothing to hide. He says he has been sober for nearly seven years—he attended rehab after losing his post—and in that time has tried to face his demons head-on.

“I said what I said. I didn’t mean it,” he says now. “And I continue to atone. Some people have forgiven me, and some people will never forgive me. But that’s something that I have to take on board.” He says he is also still grappling with legal issues stemming from the incident.

Before Galliano became a symbol of how the mighty can fall, he was a symbol of how the mighty had risen. Fashion, an industry that can sometimes seem as though it’s busy proving that nothing exceeds like excess, portrayed him as the apotheosis of romantic genius. He was appointed att Dior in the late ’90s, in an era when bold deal-makers like Dior’s owner  Bernard Arnault,  the architect of luxury conglomerate  LVMH had discovered there was a fortune to be made by applying the go-go strategy of M&A to the antiquated luxury world.

Galliano was the perfect creative partner, his Vesuvian imagination and virtuosic technical abilities unleashed by burgeoning budgets. He became the ultimate celebrity designer, paparazzi’d during nights out with supermodels like Kate Moss and Naomi Campbell, his long hair braided into plaits, his body buff and tanned. He delighted fashion editors with the imaginary tales behind his collections, told in a dizzying array of accents—jumping from the diction of a Shakespearean actor to “mockney” slang to his native Spanish to upper-crust French. He even supplanted his fabled predecessor, calling the line Christian Dior by John Galliano and taking runway bows as theatrical as his catwalk shows: dressed as a matador with pink stockings or a pompadoured astronaut or Napoleon. The French emperor, though, found Versailles too extravagant; not so Galliano, who staged Dior’s fall/winter 2007 haute couture show there in celebration of Dior’s 60th anniversary. Four years later, it was all gone: Galliano’s gilded fantasia vanished in a cloud of ignominy.

“I’m not God. But I realize that now,” says Galliano, who these days wears his dark hair pulled back by a simple black head wrap instead of the crown he once rakishly cocked for a photo shoot. “Whereas before I would self-will and self-will and self-will. When you are driven by perfection, you miss out on something beautiful that happens in between that is unfinished—that does have emotion that is relevant in this house,” he says, referring to Margiela’s appreciation for experimentation.

When owner Renzo Rosso first approached Galliano in 2013 to take over Maison Margiela—the founder had officially retired in 2009—Galliano’s response, he says, was “ ‘What?’ I didn’t get it at all.” (The Italian fashion impresario knew the designer from having manufactured the children’s line of Galliano’s eponymous brand.) He turned down the offer several times, but the persistent Rosso slowly seduced Galliano by taking him cruising through the Greek islands and the French Riviera on his motorized yacht, the Lady May. “I just loved the idea of working with this guy, the most important designer in the world,” says Rosso, who was unfazed by Galliano’s controversial history.

In 2013, he convinced Galliano to visit the Margiela headquarters when it was empty one Saturday night in August, and the building on rue Saint Maur finally won Galliano over. Upon entering, “I felt good—the beautiful decay, the peeling paint,” he says. “I had become so f—ing polished and so finished. Suddenly that rawness and emotion appealed to me, because I was feeling raw and emotional.”

Galliano immediately set about reorganizing the fashion house into the strict pyramidic structure he had mastered at Dior: a high-flying couture collection that garners attention and sets the tone for the ready-to-wear collections, in turn informing the commercial collections, the bags, the shoes and even the beauty lines. “It’s the only way I can work,” he says. “I was really honest [with Rosso]. I need to express myself—the parfum that can then be diluted into the eau de parfum, the eau de toilette.”

“John said to me, ‘I am a couturier,’ ” says Rosso. “I am very happy with that. A designer can just do a collection, but a couturier can dream and invent something that doesn’t exist.”

COUTURIER, God, that sounds grand,” says Galliano, laughing at himself. “I’m a dressmaker. There aren’t many of us who can cut, make patterns, drape.”

Galliano’s extraordinary skills have been his solace and his redemption: Just three months after he left Dior, he was slated to make Kate Moss’s wedding dress for her 2011 marriage to musician Jamie Hince. Without access to an atelier, he was left on his own to create the creamy confection, which featured a skirt of delicately embroidered feathers that appeared to have been dipped in gold sequins: “He sewed every sequin onto that dress himself,” says Condé Nast artistic director  Anna Wintour. “People don’t make dresses the way that John does anymore.”

While Maison Margiela has shown haute couture since 2012—an offshoot of Margiela’s Artisanal project, through which recycled and vintage materials became one-off follies, such as leather sandals transformed into a lacy vest—it had become known primarily as an upscale contemporary line, serving reworked staples from the house repertoire. Galliano seized on the Artisanal idea, bringing gifted couture seamstresses to flesh out the Margiela atelier and installing longtime loyalists as his top deputies in the design studios. But how to apply Galliano’s taste for fantastical fairy-tale gowns to Margiela’s conceptualized versions of streetwise boots, sweaters and trench coats?

While Margiela was known for purposefully awkward elements such as the jutting, padded shoulders on his jackets and dresses, or massively oversize coats, Galliano had made his name with a liquid-like bias-cut gown, in which a single piece of fabric is sliced against the grain so that it wraps languidly around the body like a second skin. It’s dressmaking’s triple axel, enough to confound its cutter—and ruin yards of fabric—if not done with precision. But an early meeting with Martin Margiela, during which the designer said, “Take what you will from the DNA of the house, protect yourself and make it your own,” helped ease Galliano’s anxieties about melding their sensibilities.

“It’s exhilarating for me to be inspired by outerwear or a ski jacket. It’s not always a fabulous ’50s couture gown shot by Mr. [Irving] Penn,” adds Galliano, who was surprised to discover he and the reclusive Margiela shared an interest in 17th-century French literature and 18th-century costume. They also employed similar techniques, particularly early in their careers: “Bricolage, recycling, inside out, upside down—that’s kind of what you do when you are a young designer,” he says. “You destroy, you construct, you reveal.”

One of the ongoing motifs that emerged from this impulse is something Galliano calls décortiqué—the reduction of a garment to its inner skeleton, both a witty reference to Margiela heritage and a display of Galliano’s technical wizardry. Along with other themes (which he has given such names as “unconscious glamour” and “dressing in haste”), it appears throughout his couture and ready-to-wear collections as well as Avant-Premiere, which entails broader offerings. (Prices range from $184 for a T-shirt to $8,585 for a coat.) He has even turned out the bias cut in stiff tweed.

Deconstruction has been a preoccupation for Galliano from the beginning: His first Dior dress, famously made for Princess Diana’s attendance at the Met Ball after her divorce from Prince Charles in 1996, was a navy silk bias-cut slip, which Galliano constructed with an interior bustier to protect her royal modesty. But when Diana arrived at the gala to greet him and co-chair Liz Tilberis, “We were like, Oh, my God—she’s torn out the corset,” he remembers, leaving her décolletage scandalously exposed under the negligee-like lace straps, though the other guests—and, until now, Diana fashion historians—remained none the wiser about her last-minute alteration. “It was a reflection of how she was already feeling: liberated.”

Although Galliano himself seems to feel freed by his new home away from the spotlight, he is determined to remain respectful of Margiela’s legacy. He knows firsthand how sensitive it is to take on a living designer’s house, having lost his own eponymous line, which he had founded in 1988 (91 percent–owned by LVMH, it is currently designed by Galliano’s former right-hand, Bill Gaytten). “It was like losing one of your children,” he says. “A lot of work had to be done to stop me from doing anything silly.”

He pauses and looks away. “I was killing myself anyway—it was a slow death,” he continues. “I didn’t realize I was killing myself. I was completely in denial. You think you can deal with it and cope with it, and [you tell yourself] it’s just the creative pressures, and every excuse. The insidious disease that creeps up and takes you over, and I was too weak.”

“We all knew he was going through troubled times. And we tried to look after him,” says milliner Stephen Jones, a longtime collaborator and friend, who points out that for years Galliano was designing 15 collections annually, a rare feat in the industry. “He dealt with it extremely well for a very long time, and it became a huge success. But he was very much in the eye of the storm of fashion.”

The workload was notable to many. “He is such a perfectionist,” says Wintour. “He had the inability to delegate or let go. The job was almost too mammoth—it was the volume of work, and he was so particular about everything.”

“I was just afraid to say no to Mr. Arnault,” Galliano now admits. “I thought it was a sign of weakness and that I would lose my contract. How dumb. You know, when work becomes more important than your health—the work came first at the risk of everything. Health, relationships, family—ruthless. That’s how sick I was. And your world becomes the bottle, the drugs, the ups and the downs.”

He has been able to forgive himself by re-examining his life: the move to England from Gibraltar at age 6, growing up as a closeted homosexual in a strict Catholic family in South London, bullied at school until he found his way to St. Martin’s School of Art. “You see the little Juan Carlos Galliano-Guillen—what happened to him? That poor thing. And that’s where you start to be able to handle it. Because you become this—whatever I became.”

These days, he attends regular AA meetings and retreats four times a year to a wellness center in southern Spain following each fashion show. He’s home every night, he says, at his Marais apartment with longtime partner Alexis Roche, and spends weekends at their country house in Auvergne with their two dogs, pacing his workload according to a concept he calls “step by step.”

“Seriously, I just didn’t get that before,” he says. “Or living in the present—I didn’t understand. It took a long time to get that life is this, now, what we are doing, not my head stuck up my own ass thinking about 2020.” He also maintains a mostly macrobiotic diet, though his taste for cigarettes and coffee are unabated—as is his joyfully wicked laugh.

“Recovery is an amazing journey to go through—to be given a second chance at life, and to regenerate creatively,” he says. “I’m happy to talk about it, because I think it’s nice to hear that you don’t lose it all—that you can’t paint and you can’t write and you can’t sing, because it’s not true. You can. It’s actually more intense, the levels of creative highs. I guess it’s because you are more aware of them as well. Because you are just so electric—all the good things that I love about this industry, the process—oh! It makes me jump out of bed in the morning.”

His name is also being reintroduced to the annals of Dior, though since that fateful day the news broke he has never again spoken to Arnault or the then-president of the brand, Sidney Toledano (“My calls were not accepted,” he says). Pieces from his 15-year tenure at Dior were included in the brand’s sweeping exhibition staged at Paris’s Musée des Arts Décoratifs last year, a moment that was more emotional for Galliano than he anticipated. “It’s quite wonderful that they are letting [my designs] be viewed, because for a while they were locked away,” he says. “It’s really nice to see the old girls getting an airing.”

His slow-and-steady approach at Margiela is also taking hold: For this spring, the house launched a new bag, the Glam Slam, a pillowlike creation that was introduced alongside a travel-themed collection with the sly implication that it could be used in lieu of a neck cushion on long-haul flights. January marked his first men’s show, and eventually he will tweak the look of the Margiela stores, of which there are 60 worldwide (the brand is also sold at retailers like Barneys, Saks, Nieman Marcus and Net-A-Porter/ Yoox).

Rosso’s strategy is not to pump the brand for profits. “It’s a niche brand,” he says, explaining he has already seen double-digit growth. “I want it to have product with real passion, not become the biggest brand in the world.” He doesn’t anticipate that it will more than double in size from its current position (about $160 million in revenue, versus the $5 billion in revenue for a mega-brand like Chanel). “It takes time for the old pyramid to filter through and for people to appreciate it,” Galliano says. “The buyers want to know that you are serious—when they come to the showroom, they don’t want to just hear ‘Fab show’; they want to see what effect you’ve had.”

In the meantime, he’ll be in his drafty studio with “the kids,” as he calls his design assistants, where they are doing fittings for the fall/winter 2018 couture show. He’s been seeking inspiration from all sides, including from “Insta-glam” muses that he finds on social media, or his own experiences, such as throwing on a trench coat tied with a leather belt over a tracksuit to walk the dogs at midnight. “Is it music, is it a film, is it a painting? It’s life—being a little bit more connected,” he says. “It’s the idea of proposing a new glamour, though I never want to be so arrogant to think I could arrive at it—that doesn’t interest me. But the process does interest me and my team.”

He watches his fit model stride across the room wearing the beginnings of a chinoiserie coat redone in a reflective material that creates a holographic, X-ray effect (inspired by a recent viewing of the Blade Runner remake—“Major!” he gasps in operatic tones). As she walks, the material gently floats, and he clucks approvingly. He nods and says quietly to himself, in time with her sashaying feet: “Step by step.”

[moodboardinthecloud]

Love and Loss in the Mountains

Love and Loss in the Mountains

CHRISTOPHER SOLOMON

Christopher Solomon (

@chrisasolomon

) is an Outside contributing editor.

Aug 2, 2021

“You always think you’ll save the ones you love when the moment comes. But he didn’t save her.”

How do you keep going when you’re convinced you can’t?

When the mountains that brought you joy now echo with your grief, how do you return to them?

Adam Campbell thinks about these questions every day. At 42, he has experienced more hurt and loss in high places than most who spend a lifetime there. His body has been smashed. He lost his wife.

He has a story he wants to share, about what life looks like afterward. It does not offer Five Easy Steps to Bury Your Pain. He knows how deeply loss can cleave a person. But he also learned that we need other people to help pull us clear of the wreckage.

Campbell, a lean and chatty Canadian who lives in the mountain town of Canmore, Alberta, was a podium athlete in the outdoor world. If it was sweaty and hard, he excelled at it. He was a member of five Canadian national teams, in sports such as ski mountaineering and trail running, and a national champion in duathlon. In the summer of 2014, he made international news when, on the summit of a fourteener during Colorado’s famously grueling Hardrock 100 trail race, a lightning bolt knocked him and his pacer off their feet and fried Campbell’s headlamp. The duo picked themselves up and scampered over the pass. Campbell finished third.

It was typical of Campbell, who was in many ways puer aeternus, eternally youthful—that species of smiling mountain man endemic to North America’s high lonesome places, most often glimpsed moving fast over big country and more comfortable out there than back here. Out there was simpler, stripped down, hard, and gratifying for its hardness. “Suffering in beautiful places”—that was his mantra.

In 2015, Campbell met Laura Kosakoski. They started dating. She was remarkable, he told me—beautiful, athletic, so smart that she applied to become an astronaut with the Canadian Space Agency and survived the first few elimination rounds. Kosakoski was also deeply empathetic: after years studying to become an anesthetist, she chose a lower paying position with a family practice instead. “She wanted to feel that she was able to help people in their day-to-day life,” Campbell says. Like him, she chose to live in the lap of the mountains.

It took the two men 45 agonizing minutes to uncover her face, which was blue and unresponsive. To keep Campbell focused, Hjertaas lied to him and said that she was still breathing.

One January morning in 2020, Campbell and Kosakoski met up in Banff with friend Kevin Hjertaas for a quick ski tour in nearby Banff National Park. The weather was stormy and grim, but the trio were experienced. Hjertaas is a ski guide and a former avalanche forecaster. Kosakoski and Campbell had both completed numerous avalanche courses and done lots of back­country skiing; Campbell sits on the board of directors of the Avalanche Canada Foundation. For the day’s final run, the three stood above a small bowl. Kosakoski went first. Hjertaas waited, then followed. Above them, Campbell edged forward onto the ridge, keeping an eye out. Right then, the world cut loose beneath his feet.

The avalanche was enormous. It ran for more than a third of a mile, was deep enough to expose the mountainside, and threw a massive cloud of snow skyward. When the slide ended and the air cleared, Campbell could see Hjertaas, who had avoided the onrush of debris, but Kosakoski was missing. The men immediately started searching with their avalanche beacons. What the devices told them was horrifying: she was buried more than 12 feet below the surface.

This was so deep that they couldn’t dig straight down from their position above her on the steep slope, but had to start shoveling 30 feet away and at an angle.

It took 45 agonizing minutes to uncover her face, which was blue and unresponsive. To keep Campbell focused, Hjertaas lied to him and said she was still breathing. It took another 45 minutes to extract her body ­completely. Doctors later revived a weak heartbeat, but Kosakoski died the next evening.

There was grief—the staggering sadness of losing a wife and partner. And then, too, there was the deep violence of the moment, having to reckon with that experience. The group had made errors in judgment, the men later agreed. Moreover, Campbell believes he kicked off the avalanche that buried Kosakoski. Which brings us to the guilt—of surviving and of not rescuing her. You always think you’ll save the ones you love when the moment comes, Campbell told me. But he didn’t save her. Whether this judgment of himself is fair doesn’t really matter. He lives with it.

When multiple traumas occur ­together, they layer atop one another and accrete under pressure. The effect is geologic. Mountains are built of such layers. Continents sink. Experts call it complex PTSD. What does a person do under weight like that?

There is no simple answer to this question, no easy way through.

Campbell would find ways to cope in what might seem like an unexpected place: a moment that nearly killed him three years earlier, another instance that rearranged how he saw the world around him.

In August 2016, he was blazing through the Selkirk Mountains of British Columbia with fellow trail-running stars Dakota Jones and Nick Elson. The three were attempting to scramble the multi-day Horseshoe Traverse mountaineering route above Rogers Pass in a single day. As Campbell climbed up a subpeak called Sulzer Tower, a handhold popped off in his palm. He remembers the mountains turning upside down as he tumbled 200 feet. By the time his body stopped falling, he had broken four vertebrae, smashed his ankle, and sheared off the top of his hip bone. A mountain-rescue crew happened to be working not far away and saved his life. At the hospital, his digestive system shut down for three days. Doctors inserted metal rods throughout his body.

Campbell lived, but he was changed. The day before, he was one of the best athletes on the planet. The day after, he says, “I literally couldn’t wipe my own ass. I was relying on strangers.” Nearly dying changed something else about him. The accident erased his perception—his delusion—that he was a strong, self-reliant athlete who didn’t need others. For years, whenever life had gotten complicated, he had run away, headed for the hills.

“The more chaotic my life got, the bigger the goals I would chase,” he says. Some of his biggest accomplishments occurred during times of personal turmoil, when he fled rather than faced his problems, including an early divorce from his first wife, before he met Kosakoski. “I was just numb, like fully numb,” he says of those years. “I could run hard and fast all the time, and it didn’t impact me at all. I didn’t feel tired ever.” He was not happy, though. “I was emotionally dead, and I also didn’t get any real satisfaction from it.” That pattern of running away continued well into his relationship with Kosakoski.

One reason Campbell was on the traverse that day was that he and Kosakoski had hit a rough patch. Instead of facing the challenge and repairing things, Campbell took off. Out there he was independent, and confronted only with entanglements he knew how to deal with. Mountains were easy. People were hard.

Now, as he lay in a hospital bed in the small hours, too battered to sleep, he saw through the long lie that he was totally self-sufficient. The doctors and nurses who had saved his life came in and out of the room. Family members who had flown in from all over the world circled his bedside. Kosakoski was there too, of course; she took a month off work to help him. He had always been propped up by others; he simply chose to ignore it. “It broke that shell that I put around myself,” he says. And then something amazing happened. “The more vulnerable you allow yourself to be, the more vulnerable people are back to you,” he says, “and that allows you to have even deeper, more intimate connections.” He and Kosakoski grew closer than ever. They married a year later.

Don’t misunderstand: no wisdom, however steep its price, can prepare you for losing the person you planned to spend your life with. In the year since her death, the grief has hit Campbell in waves, receding one minute, overwhelming him the next. A few days after the accident, while walking over a railroad trestle, he looked down and thought how easy it would be to tip over the side, the water below it cold and embracing. But he didn’t. He thought about other people. He thought about the pain it would cause them.

If he learned one thing through all this, it’s that friends and family are a gift—their profound grace, and the solace that can be found in them. “The biggest thing for me is allowing myself to be open with others, to share what I’m going through and let them try to help,” he says. They call. They check in. People want to be there if you’ll let them. Campbell calls now, too, which he never would have done before. He leans on those he loves. He’s honest.

The changes Campbell underwent while dealing with his grief represent a shift in awareness that’s growing in the outdoor world. Mountain towns, and the risk-takers who populate them, long responded to loss with a hardman approach—­stoically, on their own, perhaps with a whiskey or three while seated at the end of the bar. Survivors of deadly events would often feel isolated. And even the caring communities where they lived didn’t know how to reach them. Hjertaas says he knows longtime ski patrollers who have seen so much tragedy that they can no longer even respond to accidents.

But that reaction is changing. Maria Coffey’s 2003 book Where the Mountain Casts Its Shadow is about people left behind after such deaths, and it helped open the conversation. So, too, has acceptance of the truth that grief is not weakness, nor is it necessarily a plea for help. Tim Tate, a psychotherapist in Bozeman, Montana, began seeing mountain athletes in 2018 and now works with members of the North Face team, who sometimes visit him in person for intensive four-day sessions. Last year the American Alpine Club started the Climbing Grief Fund, which includes small grants for climbers in need of counseling services. The fund had ten applications in its first 24 hours.

Now, as he lay in a hospital bed in the small hours, too battered to sleep, he saw through the long lie that he was totally self-sufficient. “It broke that shell that I put around myself,” he says.

Late last year, Campbell began helping out with a new group called Mountain Musk Ox, the brainchild of a few Canmore residents, including Janet McLeod, a clinical psychologist who specializes in trauma treatment, and mountaineer Barry Blanchard, who has lost several friends and clients in the mountains over his storied career. (The group’s name refers to the tough-as-nails musk ox and its instinct to encircle vulnerable members of the group when threatened.)

The program is a series of group sessions for men and women who have experienced gutting loss in hard circumstances—it’s a chance to talk openly about their trials and to work through them. Hjertaas is involved, too; he told me that people keep contacting him, saying they wish the program existed when they went through hell. In time, organizers hope to expand to other mountain communities.

There is no road map to a quick exit from grief, though. Others can help—can be there to hold up a lantern in the limitless dark—but in the end, each must find their own way out. “You have to be really, really gentle on yourself,” Campbell says. “Ultimately, the person you were before the accident kind of dies along with your partner, because you’re just so deeply changed by it. And you have to accept that and learn what your new life is like.

“You have to be reborn.”

Campbell isn’t angry at the mountains. He doesn’t hold them responsible. He quotes Reinhold Messner: “Mountains are not fair or unfair, they are just dangerous.”

Last summer, Campbell returned to the site of the accident. When he located his wife’s ski in a creek, he fell to his knees. But the mountainside was not windswept and cold. It was alive with bouquets of wildflowers and the thrum of running water. “I ultimately find my comfort and joy in nature,” he says. He has been among high peaks, skiing or climbing, almost every day since. His priorities have changed, though. Time outdoors is no longer about big goals. In part, this is because his body is no longer the same. But neither is his mind. He simply relishes being outside with others in a way he didn’t fully appreciate before. “The conversations I have with people out in nature are some of the best conversations I have. They’re the most honest and raw,” he says. “I find that that is where people are their genuine selves.”

One day over the winter, Camp­bell shared a story online about kintsugi, the centuries-old Japanese art in which cherished items that have been chipped or broken, such as a vase or a teakettle, are mended with a lacquer that includes gold dust. The result highlights the fissures that have been repaired. The analogy appealed to him.

“It treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object,” he wrote, “something to celebrate.” Those breaks help define us, and they give us a hard-won beauty. When we show them, and the ways we’ve healed and grown stronger, he says, we know where one another are coming from, what we’ve all been through. And our community is healthier for it.

https://www.outsideonline.com/outdoor-adventure/exploration-survival/avalanche-tragedy-adam-campbell-laura-kosakoski/

[junker-town]

Super Bowl commercials, ranked

Screenshot: Cheetos

You’ll cry, you’ll laugh, you’ll yawn.

The Super Bowl is here, which means we have the most-watched TV program of the year. With all those viewers comes an exorbitant advertising cost, up to a record $5.6 million for a 30-second ad.

Spending all that money brings with it a ton of eyeballs, and brands try to make it worth it with their most ambitious spots. This year’s Super Bowl commercials run the gamut, from tear-jerkingly sweet to face-punchingly infuriating. Here’s a look at the most memorable — good, bad, and in between.

The home runs, best of the best

Loretta (Google)

Several of the commercials on Super Bowl Sunday have an A-list cast, with our most recognized stars trying to get us to buy something. But sometimes, the most simple approach can be beautiful.

I first saw this commercial as a pre-roll ad before a different YouTube video. It was so beautifully haunting that I couldn’t bring myself to click “skip ad” once the obligatory five seconds lapsed. Each piano key strike was foreboding, but I couldn’t click away from this poor old man, simultaneously attempting to fend off memory loss and trying to remember his dead wife. A valiant fight against the ravages of time but one we are all destined to lose.

Because I use humor — or “humor” if you prefer — to cope while processing actual human emotion, the main thing going through my mind as tears streamed down my face was that Google should have titled this commercial “Get Back Loretta,” but probably didn’t want to pay exorbitant license fees for Beatles music.

The very Good Dog (WeatherTech)

This ad is tearjerking in a different, more uplifting way. This is a commercial for WeatherTech, but not really about their company at all. WeatherTech CEO David MacNeil used his 30-second spot to thank the University of Wisconsin School of Veterinary Medicine for saving his dog Scout, who suffered from cancer of the blood cell walls. The commercial promotes a WeatherTech website for donations to help the school, and if that isn’t uplifting enough just look at this sweet, beautiful dog:

Photo: WeatherTech on YouTube

Groundhog Day (Jeep)

It just feels good to see Phil Connors and Ned Ryerson again, and both look 27 years older. There was no The Irishman-style CGI de-aging here. The added weight of all those years make the dread on Connors’ (Bill Murray’s) face that much more real, when he wakes up at the beginning of the commercial. But his day becomes less hellish once he spots a new Jeep, then proceeds to steal along with Punxsutawney Phil for a joy ride.

This is only the second Super Bowl to fall on February 2, so perfect timing to resurrect the classic film. The other Groundhog Day Super Bowl was in 2014, when a defense with Richard Sherman obliterated one of the most dynamic offenses the NFL has ever seen. Hmmm.

Getting the message across

Katie Sowers (Microsoft)

This is a longer version of an ad that has been running throughout the NFL playoffs, expanded for the Super Bowl — a national introduction to Katie Sowers, the offensive assistant coach for the 49ers, and her road to coaching. Sowers is the first female coach and the first openly gay coach in Super Bowl history.

“People tell me that people aren’t ready to have a woman lead, but these guys have been learning from women their whole lives. Moms, grandmas, teachers. We have all these assumptions about what women do, and what men do,” Sowers says. “I’m not trying to be the best female coach. I’m trying to be the best coach.”

The message is as clear as it is inspirational. Solid work all around.

The Secret Kicker

This features an anonymous placekicker nailing a field goal, but once the helmet comes off to reveal it was Carli Lloyd (joined in the commercial by her USWNT teammate Crystal Dunn), the crowd is at first shocked, then applauds her successful kick. The slogan “Let’s kick inequality” is strong, and it dawned on me — of all the commercials, this has maybe the best chance of coming true. Lloyd clearly has the leg, nailing a 55-yarder during an Eagles' practice in the 2019 preseason. It’s not that farfetched that a soccer star could eventually make it in the NFL. Or maybe once Lloyd is done with soccer she can shift to basketball instead.

Make Space for Women (Olay)

This has the best tagline from any of these commercials — “When we make space for women, we make space for everyone” — and the ad features a real astronaut (Nicole Stott) among the all-female cast. The empowering commercial also touts a #MakeSpaceForWomen hashtag, with Olay donating up to $500,000 to Girls Who Code.

Bizarre, but good

Rick & Morty (Pringles)

I love the manic energy here. Though this is an ad for Pringles, it might as well be a commercial for "Rick & Morty." If the show is anything close to this chaotic, I’m in.

An SNL skit, but funnier

Sam Elliott reciting "Old Town Road" (Doritos)

The regular commercial was fine, featuring a dance-off between Lil Nas X and Sam Elliott, plus haunting mustache CGI work. But for me, the better ad is the one above.

Hearing Sam Elliott read the phone book would be a treat, but hearing him act out lyrics to Old Town Road by Lil Nas X is a delight. The way the others in the bar react to Elliott’s character makes it clear he’s a man to be respected. I can’t help but wonder if this is simply world building, creating a backstory to the character of Wade Garrett so we can finally get that Road House prequel we’ve been clamoring for for decades.

Smaht Pahk (Hyundai)

In theory, this ad should not work as well as it does. The three lead actors — Chris Evans, Rachel Dratch, and John Krasinski — are all from the area, so it adds some authenticity to their exaggerated Boston accents. The commitment to the bit is very strong (I counted 15 times the word park — or rather “pahk” — was used), and that’s what sells it for me. The only better use for a Boston accent in a commercial would have been if Chipotle bought time to apologize for child labah violations.

Plus, this kind of car commercial is a welcome reprieve from the usual type we get during football season, with folks buying giant-bow-adorned cars for their spouse.

Can’t Touch This (Cheetos popcorn)

You had me at M.C. Hammer. That could have been the entire commercial — it basically was, with the main character getting out of various tasks because of the orange Cheetos dust on his fingers — and I would have been fine. But what sold it for me was after the trust fall, the poor guy who fell to the ground, not caught by the orange-fingered culprit, expertly delivers, “Why?” I don’t know why it made me laugh, but it did.

I can’t unsee this

The Shining remake (Mountain Dew Zero Sugar)

Had Bryan Cranston retired after Malcom in the Middle he still would have been revered for playing one of the most memorable and hilarious television dads in history. But Breaking Bad will lead his obituary, and for good reason. Cranston is a wonderfully gifted actor, and his channeling Jack Nicholson in a remake of The Shining for this commercial — the slogan is “as good as the original, maybe better?” — is quite good. But I will not be able to shake this image out of my head for some time:

Screenshot: Mountain Dew on YouTube

The Doppelgänger

This isn’t a commercial at all, but rather a tweeted tease from Honda before the game. I couldn’t help but notice the Helpful Honda guy looks a hell of a lot like Brutus.

Photo: Honda on Twitter

Photo by Justin Casterline/Getty Images

Snoozefest

Typical Americans (Budweiser)

I appreciate the sarcastic irony of the ad, using footage of good deeds and various accomplishments, with bonus points for using USWNT Instagram stories from the post-World Cup celebration (but they should have found a way to work in “You’re welcome for this content, bitch!”). But still, this commercial falls flat. It’s probably the best of the boring subgroup here for at least having the decency to avoid jamming some shitty Lee Greenwood song into our ears.

Sonic the Hedgehog

This is a combination commercial and trailer for the upcoming "Sonic" movie, but is probably the most sports-relevant of the ads so far. Michael Thomas of the Saints, Christian McCaffrey of the Panthers, Olympic sprinter Allyson Felix, and NASCAR driver Kyle Busch are known for speed in their respective sports, but all sing the praises of the movie's main character, Sonic the Hedgehog. The inclusion of said athletes does nothing to save this commercial from being boring, however.

By the way, I hope there eventually is a sequel to this "Sonic" movie, just so it can have the tagline “The Sega Continues.”

Jimmy Works It Out (Michelob Ultra)

There are a ton of people who find Jimmy Fallon funny, so this is probably fine for them. This has everything a Super Bowl commercial is supposed to have: elaborate production, cameos from athletes and stars. But I can’t shake the fact that Jimmy Fallon tries too hard; the payoff just isn’t there for me. Maybe I still see him as the guy who laughed through every "SNL" sketch he was ever in.

Ostensibly this is an ad for Michelob Ultra, but it might as well be vanilla beer to match the bland Fallon.

Please, God, go away

Gabe Gabriel is my mortal enemy. He is unavoidable on Super Bowl Sunday, so stay safe out there everybody.