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blackbutlerfandomnerddomain · 1 year

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Angel Belladonna Cake

Many years have changed.

Many years people have changed.

Many years the world has change.

Ever since the closing curtain call of the century's end, many things has change. The outfits, the food, the way people live, everything big or small was slowly change for a new book cover shade.

People of London walk in groups, chatting their morning away as they work as busy bees as always, the daily gossip fresh on the lips of the maidens dressed so fine in dresses and hair built up and tight. "Lady Elizabeth's husband is back from a trip I hear." "Does this mean we'll finally see him, the mystery husband of the Midford name?" "I due hope so. I bet he's handsome thanks to that lovely angel they birthed."

Indeed, the topic is even different than years before. Before it was who the beautiful and talented Lady Elizabeth Midford was going to wed after the chaotic reveal of two fiances, whom she'll pick base on statues of love in her heart. However, that quickly change upon sudden news within her 18th birthday nearer of a mysterious noble waltz in and the two fell instantly for each other and quickly wed. The mystery groom, Sir Lord Banishes Calamities, however is never seen in public besides their wedding day and a few hosted parties.

Many assumed he wasn't real until the birth of the Midford Family's heir of the next generation and beauty of her parents, Bella.

The very same Bella that across the ways of London's street to a large home just by the countryside who dances across polish marble floors so elegantly and smooth, a silver sword in hand as her partner.

Much like the gossips, Bella Midford is indeed a beauty. Long raven black hair in wisps and curls that reach down her back like a elegant cape, skin as smooth and perfect as a fine statue of Ancient Greece in the flesh color of a light beige and almond, a strong thin nose with a natural pink flush many would envy years ahead of time, large dark emerald eyes of a natural glimmering glow, and natural pale red lips fill as a rose petal. She also happens to have grown quiet tall after the setting sun of her 9th birthday with a lanky thin build lots of women in the Era would kill to have in a healthy way without the works of corsets or many pounds of powder.

The man she fights fall to the ground in a hard echoing thud as the girl stands perfect still with a grin of victory. A clap catches both their heads as a beautiful woman with blonde longs done up in a bun dressed so beautifully in blacks and greens walking to them. "Wonderful work Bella, you're getting better everyday." Said she, her voice sweet and comforting like honey. Bella smiles bright and turns a heel as she speaks, her voice similar but a slightly deeper pitch, "I learn from the best teachers after all mama."

As the sun reached it's full peek the scent of floral heaven sweeps up into the warm summer air to any nose and lung living around the recent edges of two large manors beside each other with a creek and small patch of forest splitting between their large lands just the outskirts of London's busy life style. Blue bells and white roses of many colors and size grow along the walls and ground of the manors in beautiful harmony as a morning bird chirps and chirps and chirps.

A man dressed in black walks down the halls as the morning light seeps in through the windows of dark blue lace curtains creating a beautiful design dark blue hue shade of shadows, in front of him he wheels a cart of tea cups and plates of soft sweet treats. He stops at a door and enters after gentle knocks, walking into a room painted white with flares of blue shades of many and silver threaded twinkles across and dangle across the ceiling and walls like frozen dew drops of the morning rain of April, against the wall center farthest away from the door sat a bed of soft comfort with a figure of two lay comfortably within each other's warmth.

The gent in black pulls the curtains open letting the sun come in fully, "Young master, Lady Doll, it is time to wake up."

At the same time as them, a figure of dark skin and light lavender waves of a short mop of hair dressed in a white ruffled blouse and black pants with brown boots to match walks into a large room filled with lavender and bluebells with a bundle of blankets rests in the large bed center of the room. With gentle hands and a soft they spoke, "Wake up little one. The morning is awaiting your play." The small figure under the bundle of blankets squirm in circles and groan, "Untie...Leave me be..."

"Untie can't let that happy star-shine." They giggles and shook the body more.

As the figures snug in their bed arose, figures of three and six others that follow suit helps get the day started with laundry, food, and garden work in clockwork until things were ready within a lovely greenhouse sat built in between the lands.

A grown man with dark hair and a eyepatch walks in along side a lovely brunette both holding the hands of children who seem extra tired, one ten the other eight, one boy and one girl. After the four seated the other doors opened and a handsome blonde lad waltz in holding a very sleepy light brown curls of a boy in his arms. "Good morning loves." "Good morning Alois."

The two new comers sat down as the man dressed in black and a beautiful maid with her long light hair tied in a braid down her back and dark skin got the breakfast tea and foods ready while everyone talk among themselves back and forth.

Over the years Ciel and Alois have change quite a lot. No long are their bodies and faces soften clay but have no sharpened or bold themselves, no longer do they wear shorts and high heeled boots to try and fit the statue cue of height and status wealth but now reached the desired height they longed for with Alois, much to Ciel's dismay, still peeks over the dark haired man by a few inches. Doll, much like the boys, have changed very much as well. Her body is no longer covered in her gender but now shaped and curved as a proper woman's body with her brown hair long and always tucked away in a stylish up-do that shows her new found status as Lady Phantomhive.

Ah yes, yet another thing so different than before.

Before, the two would simply hide away in their teenage curiosity and yell at each other almost every second they see each other. But over time, much like their bodies, their minds and feelings have shifted to a more different shade of things such as now always cuddling close to each other and bore three children they adore. Yes, three. Another thing different since then again was also the relationship of Ciel and Alois. Much like Doll's and his relationship, they never got along despite the many run ins and things they have in common with one another. However, over time those feelings faded to a nice even ground where Alois also comes to accepting Doll as someone close to him. Though sometimes they bicker and playfully argue over Ciel.

The three children are just perfect copies of their parents; The first born son, Albert, and the little only daughter, Rachel, tend to look much like their father at his young age but with the nose and freckles from their mother though some argue Albert as more of Doll's blue eyes than Ciel's. The youngest son, middle child Anthony, has the brown locks and nose and eye color of his mother but the eye shape and lips of his father Alois as well as the curly hair gene but still share hand in hand the two types of freckles both parents share. To everyone the three children are Phantomhives, but of course behind close doors and the walls of both manors they are known as Trancy's and Kelvin's though Doll had a long road of using that title since her youth.

But one thing more different than the rest still scratches even the other servants' heads-

"Untie didn't let me sleep in..." Whined tired little Anthony as he rubbed his tied blues of marble orbs. His awakening friend pouts at the sudden drag of mud on their name. The three adults around the table chuckle as Alois rubs both Anthony's and their hairs, "Brair simply wanted to see you star-shine."

They, Brair, smiles at the words and stands beside the maid and another woman who's dressed in a dark purple gown with pale white skin smooth and unaffected by anything and beautiful violet eyes under her light light short lashes that goes well with her soft curly white hair tied tightly in a braided bun behind her head.

Another thing different than before that many can't believe is a demon madam from Hell, most feared even by a Lord of Hell himself, has taken a shunned broken angel as her wife.

Over the time since taking effect the contract of Alois Trancy, Hannah Annafellows has found and taken cared of Angela, a once well known maid of Lord Henry Barrymore and was once a enemy of Ciel for trying to arrange his demise. Despite everything, the two simply found home together. Angela has long since lost her connection of Ash, her male counterpart, and began working between the households and over time that love and acceptance grew a child between them. Their sweet little Brair Rose of the dawn.

Brair glanced to their left to the butler who speaks with a smile and smiles softly in measure, "Are you excited for the party Mr Sebastian?" They asked. The butler in black's smile grew wider by ten inches, a happy glow glimmering within his red eyes. "Indeed I am."

Sebastian still recalls the feeling of holding such a tiny life form for the first time. She was so small red face and crying from the cold, her little fists were clutch tight. He has held babies many times before and after was no break, hell he was there for all the births to come, but nothing quite match the feeling of awe he felt upon holding just that one baby girl.

Domestic life was never once a lifestyle he desired even thinking about having but of course a certain human has to ruin that idea when he became that boy's butler, for without him he would never dare meet the lady who captured his heart freely and gifted him such a wonderful baby. She's a perfect mix of him and Elizabeth it drove poor Sebastian nuts on how that can be.

Sebastian blinks out his thoughts when he heard a crow caw above his head, bringing back to the now as he drives the carriage down the road to the manor he sees in his view, a smile coming to his face as he softly rubs the ring around his finger under his gloves.

This is dedicated to @sebalizzie and @annoyinglyshinycherryblossom and honestly @nullb1rdbones cause they have helped me accept a lot more ships than I would assume

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haircoloristpalmdesert · 1 year

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How to Pick a Hair Color to Match Your Skin Color

Have you ever asked yourself what color hair would best suit me? You want to know what color looks best on your skin tone? You'll want to discuss these questions with a professional hairdresser before you change your hair colour. Let me provide you with a guide as a stylist who was trained by a top Los Angeles colorist. Consult your stylist if you want to change your hair colour. To get the best results, I recommend a consultation with an experienced colorist.

Start with FAIR SKINNED women (and men too ...)

You should choose light shades if your skin looks like it is allergic to sunlight. These include blondes and warm blondes as well as golds, coppers and naturals.

The fair girl with healthy undertones:

Play with more colours. You can try anything you like: from the Marilyn blonde platinum to light browns. Hair Colorist Palm Desert-New

For our MEDIUM TO DARK SKINNED ladies (or gents):

You have an exotic look, or you may be the girl from the islands with the perfect tan that all other girls envy. Choose from medium blondes to dark browns to go with your look as far as possible. You can choose from a wide variety of tones and colors. Try a few out before making a final decision.

Finally, we have our CHOCOLATE SKINNED people:

You have a polished look. If you want to maintain that, you should work on your darker tones. To achieve the best look, choose a base color between medium and dark brown.

Highlights can be added in mid-light browns and lowers in darker, more chocolate browns. Leave the base color natural or reddish. This dark hair color doesn't reveal golds. If you want a warm color, red is the only option.

We can sometimes improve Mother Nature by living in the 21st Century! The perfect hair color will bring out the most beautiful features in your skin, making your inner beauty more radiant. Test out some colors and then make the color permanent when you've found one that you like.

#Hair Colorist Palm Desert-New

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thefairysblog · 2 years

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I've never been able to make sense of meanness. Over the years I have learned to accept envy, reach, selfishness, but the gratuitous evil I can't understand it. I will never understand what drives a human being to want the evil of his fellow man, I will never understand people who don't sleep at night to think about how to cheat others, just for a sadistic personal gain, for the simple pleasure of doing it. We are all different, we live in the midst of a billion different realities, why not enrich ourselves with the life stories of others instead of impoverishing the soul... 🤍 Non sono mai riuscita a dare un senso alla cattiveria. Con gli anni ho imparato ad accettare l’invidia, l’arrivismo, l’egoismo, il parlar male senza nemmeno conoscere, ma la cattiveria gratuita quella no, non riesco a comprenderla. Non capirò mai cosa spinge un essere umano a volere il male di un suo simile, non capirò mai la gente che non dorme la notte per pensare a come fregare il prossimo, così, solo per un sadico tornaconto personale, o per il semplice gusto di farlo. Siamo tutti diversi, viviamo in mezzo ad un miliardo di realtà differenti, perché non arricchirsi invece di impoverirsi l'anima... #quotesgram #quoteoftheday #frasedelgiorno #goodmoments #goodmorning #sepia #grey #mood #aesthetic #portrait #weekend #friday #june #questioning #happyfriday #today #photooftheday #happyweekend #summer https://www.instagram.com/p/CenqIW0scPW/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#quotesgram #quoteoftheday #frasedelgiorno #goodmoments #goodmorning #sepia #grey #mood #aesthetic #portrait #weekend #friday #june #questioning #happyfriday #today #photooftheday #happyweekend #summer

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dangermousie · 2 years

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Welcome to my new obsession: Love in Another Life: My Gentle Tyrant

Yes, I am reading and loving a non-danmei! The world is ending!

Thanks @mercipourleslivres aka my BG webnovel guru!

Synopsis from NU:

He is Xi Liang’s legendary emperor: a decisive and ruthless king; a man of supreme wisdom; a cunning strategist.

According to legend, he once conferred the love meant for the three thousand concubines in his harem onto one woman, while the world watched in envy.

According to legend, he once executed a hundred people for her, turning the palace into a purgatory overnight.

According to legend, he ultimately sentenced that same woman to death by execution…

A conspiracy that swept through the country resulted in her tragic end. This lifetime seems to be a repeat of her past life. Can she escape the clutches of fate to attain true love in this life? In both lives, she was the Emperor’s wife, but is that ruthless man really her true love mandated by Heaven?

Did she really die, just like that?

In the end, beyond the veil of lies and mysteries, who exactly was she? Was she a woman that he truly loved, or was she merely a chess piece to be used in his political machinations?

The stories passed onto later generations remain fraught with conflicting opinions.

THIS IS FUCKING DYSFUNCTION AND ANGST CENTRAL AND I AM LIVING FOR IT ONLY THREE CHAPTERS IN! (Though I repeatedly peeked ahead.)

If you want healthy relationships with respectful boundaries, gentle and considerate male leads who are modern men in period clothes, OP heroines who have everyone help them and are OP to the max, fluff and wholesomeness, that is about the worst book for you.

If you want complexity, dysfunction, darkness, pain and an absolutely lyrical even if fucked up story, come right IN!!!!

I am so fucking in love with the melancholy heroine, with ruthless psycho hero and the endless regret and devotion and paaaaain!

ETA: a little taste:

‘Mr. Zhang is an honest and upright person. If I were to make a guess, Mr. Zhang has likely refrained from the usual political practices of the imperial court, perhaps offending someone.’

‘It is tradition to form and join political factions. Why should he alone maintain his principles and refuse to act in accordance to the norm? He deserves to die.’ The Emperor narrowed his eyes, his voice cooling.

Our Male Lead (I cannot in good conscience use the term “hero”) ladies and gents!

#cnovel #Love in Another Life: My Gentle Tyrant

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cuethetommo · 3 years

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LOUIS VEEPS SHOW TICKETS

CURRENT NUMBERS:

11 Dec 2020 6:02pm PST: 478 on list, up to 249 have tickets (242 bought by 120 people)

UPDATE: I will be coordinating until 7:30 am PST. If you want to support a ticket, do it before then. The list will close then. I am going to bed tonight (I will be up early in the morning), do not worry that you don’t have a response from me. I will be emailing folks who don’t get tickets just after 8:00 am PST, so watch for that email.

Ok friends, I’m going to put all of this in one post for the moment.

I am doing two things:

Creating a list of folks who want a ticket to Louis’ show, but cannot afford it.

Collecting & Distributing $$ from folks for tickets (or matchmaking for folks who won’t want to transfer $$).

IF YOU NEED A TICKET:

You do not need to prove your worth or hardship. I’m assuming if you’re coming to me that there is a need. You do not need to prove anything to me. Nor do I think anything other than we live in a shit world ruled by capitalism and that’s why you can’t afford a ticket.

Send me a MESSAGE. Either via my ask box or chat. DO NOT POST A REPLY TO THIS POST.

Send your VEEPS EMAIL and Password.

I will add you to my list and send you a message that says I did.

Once someone buys your ticket, I’ll let you know.

I make NO PROMISES. I cannot control if folks donate. And it is first come first served.

SEE ALSO: this post about being safe on the internet.

Folks do not need to be following me to be added but I will not accept anonymous submissions. Also, I will no longer coordinate tickets for folks who have me blocked (there are a couple who messaged then blocked me and that just feels shitty).

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO FUND A TICKET:

Message me and I’ll give you a set of credentials. You login to VEEPS, pay for a ticket, remove your credit card, and sign out. You can message the person you supported, or I’ll just tell them they were anonymously gifted a ticket. <- this way does not require that you be in the US or give a stranger $$.

Venmo me at CueTheTommo. Tickets are $20.70 each. If you include your URL, I’ll tell the person who supported them. If you don’t, I’ll assume you want to remain anonymous. I’ll tell you (on Venmo) who you supported and otherwise forget your name.

Most folks support one ticket for someone else and that may be the most beautiful thing of all.

---

I asked some friends to translate for me. THANK YOU FOR YOUR HELP! All of you who speak more than one language are the real legends. (These are the most common ones I’ve seen, but I am open to others.)

Translated by @believeinlarrysupremacy

Certo, gente. Eu vou pôr tudo isso em uma só postagem por enquanto. Estou fazendo duas coisas:

Criando uma lista de pessoas que querem um ingresso para o show do Louis, mas não podem pagar.

Coletando e utilizando o dinheiro de outras pessoas para os ingressos do show (ou combinando entre duas pessoas para aqueles que não se sentem confortáveis transferindo o dinheiro diretamente).

SE VOCÊ PRECISA DE UM INGRESSO:

Você não precisa provar que não tem dinheiro ou que está passando por uma situação financeira complicada. Eu suponho que, se você veio até mim, é porque foi realmente necessário. Você não precisa me provar nada. Só penso que vivemos em um mundo difícil governado pelo capitalismo e é por isso que muitos não podem pagar por um ingresso.

Me envie uma MENSAGEM. Pode ser pelo ask box ou pelo chat. NÃO FAÇA ISSO RESPONDENDO A ESSA POSTAGEM.

Me envie seu E-MAIL e sua senha do VEEPS.

Eu irei te colocar na minha lista (de pessoas que precisam de ingresso) e te mandar uma mensagem confirmando isso.

Assim que alguém comprar seu ingresso, vou te avisar.

NÃO ESTOU PROMETENDO NADA. Não posso controlar se as pessoas doam ou não. Será por ordem de chegada, ou seja, quem falou comigo primeiro, receberá o ingresso primeiro.

Por favor, se informe sobre como se manter seguro na internet.

Não precisa estar me seguindo para ser adicionado na lista, porém não vou aceitar pedidos anônimos. Também não irei mais disponibilizar ingressos para aqueles que tenham me bloqueado (algumas pessoas me mandaram mensagem e, em seguida, me bloquearam e isso foi péssimo).

SE VOCÊ GOSTARIA DE FINACIAR UM INGRESSO:

Me mande uma mensagem e eu te enviarei os dados de uma conta. Você faz o login no VEEPS (com esses dados), paga pelo ingresso, remove os dados do seu cartão de crédito quando finalizar a compra e sai da conta (sign out). Você pode mandar uma mensagem para a pessoa que você ajudou ou eu digo que alguém a presenteou anonimamente. Dessa forma, não é necessário estar/morar nos Estados Unidos ou dar dinheiro a alguém que não conheça.

Translated by @solouncolorynotusojos

Bueno gente, pondré esta información en un solo post por el momento. Estoy hacienda dos cosas:

Creando una lista de gente que quiere un ticket para el concierto de Louis pero no puede pagarlo.

Juntando y Distribuyendo dinero de otra gente para comprar tickets para quien todavía no tiene (o encontrándole un match a la gente que no se siente cómoda transfiriendo dinero $$)

SI NECESITAS UN TICKET:

No necesitas probar que no tienes dinero o que estas pasando una situación difícil. Estoy asumiendo que si estas recurriendo a esto, es porque de verdad lo necesitas. No necesitas probarme nada a mí. Solo pienso que vivimos en un mundo de porquería gobernado por el capitalismo y esto es lo que hace que no puedas comprar un ticket.

Envíame un MENSAJE. Por medio de mi ask box o por chat. NO LO HAGAS RESPONDIENDO A ESTE POST.

Envíame tu VEEPS EMAIL y contraseña.

Te voy a agregar a mi lista (de gente que necesita tickets) y enviarte un mensaje con una confirmación de que te he agregado.

Te voy a avisar una vez que alguien compre tu ticket.

NO HAGO PROMESAS. Yo no controlo si la gente dona o no. Y la lista funciona para que quienes me pidieron un ticket primero, sean los primeros a los que se les done un ticket.

Por favor infórmate acerca de cómo mantenerte segurx usando Internet

No necesitas estar siguiéndome para ser añadidx a la lista, pero no voy a aceptar pedidos anónimos. Tampoco voy a coordinar tickets para gente que me tiene bloqueada (Ya que hay gente que me ha mandado mensajes y luego me bloqueo, y eso no está bueno)

SI TE GUSTARIA REGALAR/PAGAR POR UN TICKET:

Mándame un mensaje y te voy a pasar los datos de una cuenta. Vos tenes que ingresar a VEEPS (con esos datos), pagar por un ticket, remover tu tarjeta de la cuenta una vez finalizada la transacción y luego salir (sign out) de la cuenta. Puedes enviarle un mensaje a la persona a la que ayudaste, o yo les puedo decir que alguien hizo una donación anónima. (De esta manera no es necesario que estés en Estados Unidos ni que le des dinero a unx extranx.)

Puedes enviarme (VENMO) el dinero a CueTheTommo. Los tickets cuestan $$20.70 (USD) cada uno. Si incluis tu URL le voy a decir a quien se beneficie con tu ticket, quien se lo está dando. Si no me pasas tu URL, voy a asumir que quieres permanecer anonimx. Te voy a decir (en VENMO) a quien has ayudado y luego olvidarme del asunto.

Translated by @cathuniverse

Ok, Je vais mettre le tout dans un post pour le moment.

J’ai fait deux choses:

Une liste de gens qui veulent un ticket mais qui ne peuvent pas se le payer.

Reçoit et redistribue de l’argent de gens qui on donner pour aider à acheter des tickets. ( ou mettre en contact deux personne pour les gens qui ne veulent pas envoyer directement de l’argent).

Si vous avez besoin d’un ticket:

Vous n’avez pas besoin de prouver votre situation financière. J’assume que si vous me contactez c’est qu’il y a un besoin. Vous n’avez rien à démontrer ni est-ce-que je pense autre chose que l’on vit dans un monde difficile en ce moment qui est gouverné par le capitalisme et c’est pour ca que vous ne pouvez payer votre ticket.

Envoyez moi un MESSAGE. Par ma Ask Box ou le chat. Ne postez pas une reply a ce post.

Envoyez moi votre VEEPS email et votre mot de passe

Je vais vous ajouter à ma liste et vous envoyez un message vous confirmant que c’est fait

Quand quelqu’un achète votre billet, je vais vous avertir..

Je ne fait AUCUNE PROMESSE. Je ne peux pas contrôler si les gens font des dons. C'est le premier arrivé premier servi.

VOIR AUSSI: ce post a propos d'être sécuritaire sur internet.

SI VOUS VOULEZ CONTRIBUER FINANCIÈREMENT:

Si vous êtes à l'extérieur des Etats-Unis, je vous envoie une combinaison d’un identifiant VEEPS et vous pouvez vous connecter, acheter le billet pour quelqu’un puis supprimer vos informations de carte de crédit.

La plupart des gens font le don d' un seul billet pour quelqu’un d’autre et c’est possiblement la plus belle chose a voir.

Translated by @they-feel-the-same

Ok, Freunde, für den Moment fasse ich alles in einem Post zusammen.

Ich werde zwei Dinge tun:

Eine Liste von Leuten erstellen, die ein Ticket für Louis‘ Show möchten, es sich aber nicht leisten können.

Geld für Tickets sammeln und verteilen (oder matchmaking für Leute, die kein Geld überweisen wollen.

Wenn du ein Ticket brauchst:

Du musst mir nicht beweisen, dass du es dir finanziell nicht leisten kannst ein Ticket zu kaufen. Wenn du dich bei mir meldest, gehe ich davon aus, dass ein Bedarf besteht. Du musst mir absolut nichts beweisen. Ich werde auch nichts anderes denken, als dass wir in einer beschissenen Welt leben, die von Kapitalismus regiert wird, und das der Grund ist, wieso du dir kein Ticket leisten kannst.

Schicke mir eine Nachricht. Entweder über die Ask Box oder im Chat. ANTWORTE NICHT AUF DIESEN POST!

Schicke mir deine VEEPS Daten. Email und Passwort.

Ich werde dich zu meiner Liste hinzufügen und dir per Nachträglich Bescheid geben, dass du draufstehst.

Sobald jemand ein Ticket für dich kauft lasse ich es dich wissen.

Ich mache KEINE VERSPRECHUNGEN. Ich habe keine Kontrolle darüber ob die Leute spenden. Wer zuerst kommt, mahlt zuerst.

Beachte bitte zu deiner eigenen Sicherheit folgende Punkte: benutze eine Fandom Email-Adresse, nicht deine private. Entferne persönliche Details aus deinem VEEPS Profil. Ändere dein Passwort sobald du dein Ticket erhalten hast.

Ihr müsst mir nicht folgen, um zu der Liste hinzugefügt zu werden, aber ich werde keine anonymen Anfragen annehmen. Ausserdem koordiniere ich keine Tickets mehr für diejenigen, die mich blockiert haben (es gibt ein paar Leute, die mir geschrieben und mich dann blockiert haben und das fühlt sich einfach scheisse an).

Wenn du ein Ticket sponsern möchtest:

Schreib mir eine Nachricht und ich leite dir die Daten einer Person auf der Liste weiter. Du loggst dich bei VEEPS ein, bezahlst das Ticket, entfernst deine Kreditkarte und loggst dich wieder aus. Du kannst dann entweder der gesponserten Person direkt eine Nachricht schreiben und ihr mitteilen, dass du ihr Ticket gekauft hast, oder ich melde mich bei der betreffenden Person und lasse sie wissen, dass jemand anonym ein Ticket gespendet hat. <– auf diese Weise ist ein Wohnsitz in den USA nicht notwendig und du brauchst niemandem Geld zu überweisen.

So viele Leute sponsern ein Ticket für jemanden, was einfach wundervoll ist.

#louis 2020 gig #details #mine #if you can signal boost #that would be great

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carolisedits · 3 years

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{dive in mars pt ii}

i. the cult of dionysus - the orion experience

so let's make a decision, start a new religion yeah, we're gonna build a temple to our love orgiastic dances, nymphs in trances yeah, we'll be the envy of the gods above i'm feeling devious you're looking glamorous let's get mischievous and polyamorous wine and women and wonderful vices welcome to the cult of dionysus

ii. make me feel - janelle monáe

baby, don't make me spell it out for you all of the feelings that i've got for you can't be explained, but i can try for you yeah, baby, don't make me spell it out for you you keep on asking me the same questions and second guessing all my intentions should know by the way i use my compression that you've got the answers to my confessionsIt's like i'm powerful with a little bit of tender an emotional, sexual bender mess me up, yeah, but no one does it better there's nothin' better

iii. adore you - harry styles

walk in your rainbow paradise strawberry lipstick state of mind i get so lost inside your eyes would you believe it? you don't have to say you love me you don't have to say nothing you don't have to say you're mine honey i'd walk through fire for you just let me adore you

iv. dance to this - troye sivan, ariana grande

young ambition say we'll go slow but we never do premonition see me spendin' every night with youi oh, yeah, under the kitchen lights you still look like dynamite and i wanna end up on you oh, don't need no place to go just put on the radio you know what i wanna do we can just dance to this don't take much to start me we can just dance to this push up on my body

v. we - mac miller, cee lo green

well, you ain't in the mood to argue baby don't you worry, this some shit to get along to some shit i right my wrongs to well, i've tried to call you, have us a discussion we never talk, we always way too busy fuckin' i'll think of something to say, I always do i'm in love with the way that you say my name every time it sound brand new and you, always wonderin' what we'll be i say we sound better than you or me

vi. leave the door open - bruno mars, anderson .paak, silk sonic

what you doin'? where you at? oh, you got plans? don't say that i'm sippin' wine in a robe i look too good to be alone my house clean, my pool warm just shaved, smooth like a newborn we should be dancin', romancin’

vii. no i in threesome - interpol

and baby tonight i see your lips are on fire and life is wine now the windows are open the moon is so bright no one can tell us what love brings for you and i sound meets sound, babe the echoes, they surround and all that we need is one thing now what is there to allow?

viii. animal - troye sivan

no angels could beckon me back it's hotter than hell where i'm at i am an animal with you an ode to the boy i love boy, i'll die to care for you you're mine, mine, mine, tell me who do i owe that to

ix. in the dark - camila cabello

i can see you're scared of your emotions i can see you're hoping, you're not hopeless so why can't you show me? why can't you show me? i can see you're looking for distractions i can see you're tired of the acting so why can't you show me? who are you in the dark? show me the scary parts who are you when it's 3 a.m. and you're all alone

x. moonlight - ariana grande

every look, every touch makes me wanna give you my heart i be crushin' on you, baby stay the way you are 'cause i never knew, i never knew you could hold moonlight in your hands 'til the night i held you you are my moonlight moonlight

xi. what a heavenly way to die - troye sivan

when our prime has come and gone and our youth is all but melted, melted we can listen to this song so we don't have to accept it, accept it just as long as you'll be home in the one we've manifested just take in it all what a heavenly way to die what a time to be alive because forever is in your eyes but forever ain't half the time i wanna spend with you

xii. why - shawn mendes

when people ask about us, now, we just brush it off i don't know why we act like it means nothing at all i wish that i could tell you that you're all that i want, yeah i pretend that i'm not ready why do we put each other through hell? why can't we just get over ourselves?

xiii. my! my! my! - troye sivan

shine on, diamond don't make me wait another day 'cause passion is passion you know it just as well as me now, let's stop running from love running from love let's stop, my baby (my baby) let's stop running from us

xiv. fools - troye sivan

and my hopes, they are high, i must keep them small though i try to resist i still want it allI see swimming pools and living rooms and aeroplanes i see a little house on the hill and children's names i see quiet nights poured over ice and tanqueray but everything is shattering and it's my mistake only fools fall for you, only fools

xv. flutua - johnny hooker, liniker

entre conversas soltas pelo chão teu corpo teso, duro, são e teu cheiro que ainda ficou na minha mão um novo tempo há de vencer pra que a gente possa florescer e, baby, amar, amar sem temer

#dive in mars #river thompson #daniel mars #diana morgan #happy bday lu s2

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gentryllarena · 2 years

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Is that GENTRY LLARENA? Wow, they do look a lot like EVAN MOCK. I hear HE is a TWENTY year old SOPHOMORE who are studying FILM STUDIES at Luxor University. Word is they are a(n) ARISTOCRAT student who is FOR The Unhinged. You should watch out because they can be STUBBORN and UNFORGIVING, but on the bright side they can also be HUMOROUS and SMELL GOOD. Ultimately, you’ll get to see it all for yourself.

Hi hello! My name is T and in this essay I will be introducing you to my home boi Gentry!

basics:

full name: Gentry Joseph Llarena

nicknames: Gent, Trees, GLaw

gender: Cismale

pronouns: He/Him

sexuality: Bicurious

age: 20

date of birth: September 21st

Birthplace: Savannah Georgia

zodiac sign: Virgo

likes: Skateboarding, cigarettes and coffee, spicy food, Caribbean Passion from Jamba Juice

dislikes: Vegetables (specifically peas), when his hands get too dry after washing them, movie spoilers

Biography:

It wasn’t until Gentry was in the 8th grade that he realized it wasn’t normal to move around as much as his family had. They weren’t exactly traditional in the sense that they literally lived in a giant RV and used it to drive themselves across the country. However everywhere they went he was always promised that it’d be the last time. Every time they’d enroll him in school, sometimes for the year and sometimes only for a few months before they were on the road again. It wasn’t for lack of finances they did this either. No in fact his grandparents on his mom’s side had been huge investors in wildly successful tourism companies that had made them more money than they’d ever known what to do with. While the grandparents on his dad’s were both hugely successful doctors. Both sets which set fairly high expectations on their kids who decided to start a business of their own.

Their business was to build giant farming communes that was done entirely on the road. Every couple of months a new project leading them somewhere else. The whole thing should have made it challenging for Gentry to make friends. Sure he had a few that he’d chat with online, and cousins who’s lives he got to watch from afar and envy, but nothing concrete. No one he really got to call his own. The bonus to moving all the time meant that commitment was a word he didn’t have to learn for a long time.

Gentry started the exploring of his sexuality in the plains of Oklahoma with people who’s names he can barely remember now. Individuals who ensured he was aware of the importance of keeping their secrets which wasn’t going to be a problem considering he’d be gone the next week. Sometimes he thinks back on them as the closest things to real relationships he’d ever held.

When it came time for him to graduate the online high school program he’d been attending he’d aged out of what normally would have been a typical high school experience. Finding it challenging to always be focusing on school with his parents encouraging his participation in so many of their projects. When it was time for him to start applying for colleges, his parents had a few conditions for him.

They’d always felt he wouldn’t need school if he was going to take on their family business but Gentry had never been sure that was something he wanted. So instead they came up with a plan. Namely that they decided they wanted him to have some real back up experience in case college didn’t work out and sent him to work at his uncles Sex Shop promptly named the G-Spot. He’d done it for approximately 6 months when he finally got his acceptance to Luxor. After which he turned on his heels and moved to New York. His parents agreed to pay for school at this point and he was off.

Wanted Connections:

Have we met before (0/1): Maybe in another life I knew you? The two of you met only one time. Perhaps a date? Perhaps just a friendship. It was a one time meeting during Gentry’s travels. Hit it off. Really enjoyed each others company. Then just like that he was gone the next day.

Mixtape (0/1): Oooo he did it, he made you a mix tape. The two of you are buddies. Same taste in music. But every so often Gentry adds a song to his playlist that makes you question his motives.

Pen Pals (0/5): These are the people he wrote to. People he made friends with on his travels and kept in touch with. We can build the how they met together but they kept in touch and now they’re at school together. How fun!

Ocean’s were lakes (0/2): Gimme a cat fish situation. Someone he was talking to online who convinced him to come to Luxor only to be Catfished and find they are someone else entirely.

Always do (0/3): These are the group of close friends that probably worry a little too much about how into the drama of Luxor Gentry gets. The people he is constantly telling not to worry. That he’ll be safe and then goes over board every time with.

#luxintro #bio #tw: another t character

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arcencieldoux · 3 years

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don’t take my shit please

Budapest, Hungary, Saturday May 19th, 2015

Glasses clinked as chuckles among the wealthy guests are heard over the piano that’s being played lightly by a small band in the corner of the open hall. Louis feels the jacket to his middle-upper-class suit shift as he reaches for his flute of champaign. He is sat at an extended table where food expanded across it in colourful mounds. A banquet for guests.

It was a place with promised grandeur, perhaps an overshot if they were going for a pristine essence, for an auction, but at the prices things would sell for, it was understandable. Walls were trimmed with gold frames and velvet drapes hang from the domed ceiling, which was painted with tunicked Greek gods. The entire left wall was decked by a bar Louis was surely thinking about visiting later.

The room full of elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen completes the aura of an antique, million-dollar auction that many guests, most of whom have come internationally, mingle and talk. It was the beginning of an auction in Hungary, in a beautiful building. Everyone was just arriving, but envy was still present, masked by a pretence of politeness.

You could see it with the small glances to a conversing group at the other side of the room, where one of the rich people would side-eye them with a look of pure envy and rage, and the tight-lipped smile they gave out. A lot of the guests were like this. But in the end, they were all eagles there to ravage an animal. Every-man-for-himself and all that.

There were the rare ones, where smiles shared between two friends who lost touch were genuine.

All of that, even the simple way they held their flutes of bubbling champagne, is observed and copied by Louis. He knows if he's supposed to be one of them, rich and wasting millions of dollars on a flowerpot, he'd have to act perfectly.

Louis has been at this event for a half hour, chatting up all different types of guests, and acting like a scored man who has more money than he should.

Currently, he excuses himself from the banquet, and takes up that thought on the bar. The bartender comes up to him, but Louis waves him away.

Maybe it’s his uncaring expression, or the suit, but people start to take a notice of him. One even approaches him. It’s a man, with almost zero lip, the hard line to his jaw pudged with age. He has a boring white flower design embroidered on his breast pocket.

“Hello, my name is Francis Boul de Sav,” the man introduces.

Louis smiles politely. They shake hands. “Pleasure meeting you, Francis. Can I call you Francis?”

“Oh yes, that’s alright.”

“I’m Louis Thompson. I love your embroidered flower, by the way. Trillium, is it?”

For ten minutes, he talks with Francis Boul de Sav, who had an interesting story to tell about his botanist daughter, who'd urged her father to come, even though he was reluctant at first. That would explain the flower.

Louis pays enough attention, so should the people he talked to ask for his opinion, he wouldn't be unaware. But he is ignorant enough of their words to focus on his target: Matthew Morrison, an American buyer, supposed to arrive here with his wife Golana Morrison.

His eyes station themselves at the front entrance where people in fine clothing and jewelry that just screamed "rich" are coming in, in with partners, and solo. They cascade onto the marble flecked floors in a flow.

There has been no sign of Mr. Morrison yet.

Louis keeps himself at low-profile, though. There are enemies everywhere, and one slip of who he was could blow up his mission. Quite literally. Take the agent in the room, for example.

He is not stupid. Agents were sent to take him down all the time, every day, and he is used to it. This one would be no different, just like the rest. Maybe the next could be a she? Louis wishes wistfully the one sent to kill him after this one would be female. Just so he could know that modern society is slightly better than it was before of their pictures of women.

He grins at that thought, despite how disturbing it may be.

At that moment, Golana Morrison comes through the doors. She's a taller lady, with dusty brown hair streaked with natural highlights, pulled into a composed bun at the back. Her tanned skin revealed that she and her husband live in California valley, something Louis already knows. She laughs at something another woman guest was saying in a contained manner.

Louis scans the area surrounding Mrs. Morrison. There is no man with her.

Louis has always been good at multi-tasking. It's why he excelled in this part of his profession. Not only was he carefully watching the entrance, but in the corner of his eye, he monitored the agent. He can tell he wasn't just another guest. The way he moved, didn't interact, kept a safe yet visual distance between him. It was practiced and thought-out.

It was something about that. Something about the way he watched Louis. It wasn't normal. It wasn't just the slip of the eyes. It's the look a Jaguar had, while it covertly hunts its prey. It's the one police had while undercover. It's the one of another agent sent to detain him.

A woman with pale skin, curled hair and few freckles talks to Louis. Social skills were an important thing, and Louis could be a master at that if he wanted. Instead, he got lost in his current state of mind.

He knew how much the agent was worth. Or, he could guess, with only one look. The way he held himself, how he moved through the crowd, how he smiled at ones who looked his way.

But he's been in situations like these before, an agent sent to get him while he was on a mission (sometimes not on a mission) that from the moment he saw the agent he shrugged it off, finding that the agent who thought he could differ from all the others was impractical.

If only he knew the number count of agents, spies, governments. Maybe then he'd change his mind and leave Louis be.

A staff caught his attention as they stepped up onto the stage at the front where the auction was yet to be held. His hair was black and slicked back, in a French stereotypical way, and wore a suit with golden buttons to match the theme of the event. He tapped the microphone. The chattering among the buyers quietens, and they turn their attention to him.

"Ladies and gents, before we continue our auction event, we've invited a band to play for you to dance to with your partner, and those of you who wish to dance, and to simply enjoy. The room is yours," He says with a slight bow. His accent is most certainly French, and the 'R's roll right off his tongue. "The auction will commence in 30 minutes. We have a bar, and of course, a buffet with plenty of foods for you to eat. Thank you and enjoy." Then he bows again and walks offstage, and a lovely melody picks up with the band.

Get them all drunk so they will burn their money later. It is obviously part of the reason there is a bar, other than it's mature and shows how much money the building has to host the auction.

Of course, the lady he had been talking with notices his small smirk, and mistakes it for a smile. But Louis wasn't, and was barely even listening, and was about to excuse himself when the lady blurts out: "Dance with me?" She flushes immediately. An outburst like that apposed lady-like behaviour that Louis never cared for nor dwelled upon.

Louis kindly declines. After she leaves he orders water with ice, thinking why not? He inspects it and sniffs it, then deems it drinkable. Before he could take a sip, a light finger touches his arm

"I'd make sure it's safe to drink first and not drugged. Don't want you getting hurt."

He was very sure that the agent disagrees with his statement

Instead of fawning over him or acting tough like he usually did with men to fool them — depending on what side of the coin Louis thought they were —, he took a sip and put the glass back down. He wouldn't hide his act of innocence with this one, sometimes it just got tiring. And it was a bold decision of the agents to approach him this soon, even if it had been an hour already. So, Louis made a bold choice too.

He looks at the person. He's relatively stunning. "I think I'll manage," he says.

A slow grin spreads across his face, kind of boyish charm. He holds out a hand.

"Harry."

Louis simply took another sip. The hand drops. Louis stands, smoothing down the front of his suit. "I know." Then quietly, so no one else heard him, he adds, "agent." He'll research him later.

"You're Louis," says Harry, "A darling of The Circus, criminal..." Louis bristles at the word, but he makes no comment on it. "Legally not a person, by the way," Harry adds. "You weren't that difficult to find, but I'm sure you'll make up for it with bringing a challenge when you leave with me."

"I won't be leaving with you anytime soon," he answers with what was almost a sneer.

"You realize that I know a lot about you, right? Enough for you to know your place."

At that, Louis' breath catches. He panics momentarily, but it's fleeting, and he reconstructs his composure. There is no possible way for him, for anyone, to know a lot about him. There are barely any records of him anywhere. "Now what makes you think I would do anything you asked for?" Louis says contemptuously.

Harry offers him a card, a business card with a navy blue theme and an official vibe to it. It’s plain except for a circular black emblem, difficult to see because of how dark the navy blue is. It has a bird-figure in the circle's ring. He stares at where it was between Harry's two fingers, then back to Harry's eyes. Harry raises his eyebrows, waiting for Louis to take it.

"You will eventually."

"You can't be serious," Louis says.

"I am one hundred percent serious."

"I thought you were an agent, not an advertiser."

Harry put it on the mahogany bar, tapping his index finger with it once. "Just take it."

Louis accedes. He leaves his seat at the bar, making sure the agent understood he was that confident in his abilities that he turned his back to him. He waited for the beginning of the auction, where he would finish his mission.

He went to find Golana. She wasn't the mission, but her husband was. And he had a plan.

He walks up to her, chatting with another guest. The other one notices him first, Golana’s back to him. Louis comes closer, a set smile on his mouth. The woman stops talking, Golana turning to see who the guest was looking at. Mrs. Morrison was the same height as Louis, but her bone structure was quite narrow. She definitely seemed like the type of person to own vanilla citrus candles and have fruit salads as a snack.

Still at the bar, the agent is watching Louis meet Mrs. Morrison. He sees Louis with a grin and talks for a minute with Mrs. Morrison and the other woman, who has jet black hair, dress, heels and eyes, but a kind face. He watches as the darling he has been sent after makes his way onto the dance floor with Mrs. Morrison.

The tune is slow, yet not too slow, so Louis doesn't have to stand too close to the woman as they dance. She quickly agrees after he did a job of eyeing her with patient, irresistible blue eyes, which he found disgusting. People's standards have decreased to practically nothing, and would cave after a look. Not to mention... Golana probably doesn't love her husband as much as she should, if she's so eager to dance with a younger lad. But she was talking to him and he was about to earn another mission point.

He was never told exactly why his targets were certain people, most of the time something vague, like they didn't pay back full price or an artifact was wanted and, in those cases, he'd just threaten and 'encourage' them to choke up some more to give back to The Circus. And he obeyed, because the alternative was a loss of the only sense of home. Plus, there was an unspoken reaction that may involve a bit of torture, but.

So every illegal thing Louis did to or for people it was not because he liked it, but because he had to. It was them or him, and he preferred him.

Flashing colours pass by his eyes. It's all headache-worthy, but Louis stays strong.

The ballroom is like bottles of all the royal colours spilled onto a canvas, the different paints forming one picture. Maybe people find him attractive, he'll never know. As soon as they get a glimpse of Louis, the memory of him dissipated, and he is forgotten about seconds later. After all, this was an event concerning money and valuable purchase, not just one pretty face in a crowd.

Louis dances with the woman as Harry, the open-plan agent joins the floor and asks a lady to dance, and since this was a switch-partner type of dance, she agrees.

For two whole minutes Louis talks with Golana Morrison, prying kindly for information, and to pass the time. While she speaks about when she almost got hit by a car one time, Louis calculates the time in his head until it would be appropriate for him to slip away and find the actual man he was looking for, then bring him into a restroom where he'd be threatened by the many knives hidden in various places around his outfit.

Louis always comes prepared. Guns are way too loud for such a public event, anyway.

And if that means dancing with Mrs. Morrison (who was terribly kind, remorsefully so) for two minutes while secretly keeping an eye on the one he was really hunting to throw the agent off his rhythm and to fool him, it is what he'd do.

Louis tries to focus again on the wife, fixing his smile with pink lips that made his blue eyes look less dangerous.

He suddenly twirls her, but like always, she was prepared, and went with it without a stumble. Before she could spin back to Louis, there was one with red hair already there, who caught Louis and tried to make conversation right off the bat.

"You look familiar. Have I seen you before?"

The tune was picking up, going faster. The new woman who was maybe in her 30s kept pace with it, twirling under him before he could reply. Her red dress skirted outwards in the spin. Before Louis could frown at the sudden change in partner, he got caught not by another woman, but with none other than the agent.

Harry had one hand on his shoulder and one in his hand, and Louis put one of his own on his waist, looking up at his face. Harry's flush lips, hinting at possible lip gloss or balm of sorts, curved into a smile.

"Finally," he said.

Louis just sighs through his nose and flicked his eyes away from Harry's face and searches the crowd. Sustained eye-contact is not a biggie with Louis. Unless necessary, he likes to avoid it.

"I thought a lovely face like mine would improve your mood, not lessen it."

It was odd for an agent to be so communal with Louis—unusual, but odd. It made Louis wonder what Harry was doing, and what his plan was—if he even had any.

Reluctantly, Louis drags his eyes to Harry's.

"Is this even legal?" Louis asks.

The agent chuckles lightly. "Probably not. Not in this country." Yet he kept dancing with him. "You look splendid tonight, absolutely enchanting."

Louis doesn't find his tone funny, so he ignores him.

With his eyes near the agents' neck, he sees a silver chain peeking out from the collar of his vest. Louis frowns at it for a moment.

"Your eyes. Sparkle," Harry says just as monotonous.

"Suit is a nice black."

Louis' jaw clenches. He steels his eyes to the wall behind Harry's long hair. It’s cream with gold trim, and a scene painting hung in the middle with a burgundy inner-frame.

Then, "are you frequently this verbally inactive or just shy?" is whispered beside his ear.

If it weren't for the fact that the two of them were practically on different poles of the earth in terms of society positions, Louis might have cracked a grin, possibly even a chuckle. Instead, he kept his voice firm and responsive, far away from any amusement. "In my life, I've had loads of agents after me, sometimes multiple at once. Never, though, has one been as irritating and foolish as you."

Which was the truth, and at least deserved a point to Louis if this were an insult contest.

"I’m honoured."

“Yeah, you shouldn’t be. Who do you work for? Or, what, do you work for?”

Before anyone could say something else, the music switches, catching both Louis and the agent’s attention. Around him, partners were dispersing to the sides of the marble room. It became clear why when the same slick-back French man announced that the auction would begin in five minutes.

Detaching himself from the agent’s arms, Louis went to an open arch of white stone that was basically an entrance hole in a wall, except with a purpose. It opened up to another room full of tables, with four seats per each. There were many people already in there, taking their seats, and chatting among their companions. Louis found a seat for himself and sat down. The agent was right behind him.

Tensely, Louis took a brochure from where his plate would usually be. He pretends to read it, slowly. Meanwhile, he was getting more anxious by the second. How was he supposed to finish his mission when the agent was looking over his shoulder all the time — literally.

"Is it interesting?" Harry asks, his eyes trying to peer over Louis' shoulder. If it weren't for the situation, it might have sounded like an honest question; it was sarcastic.

"I find it entertaining," Louis replies.

"I guess it could be 'entertaining'." Harry sighed, moving his legs under the table. "Especially if you're trying to ignore someone." Out of Louis' peripheral vision, he saw Harry look around the room.

How was he so calm? Why was he so calm? It brought back what Louis thought earlier: an agent, hit man, whoever was after Louis always stalked from a distance, plotted then struck, yet failed. What Harry was doing was an entirely fresh approach for Louis, which could forth-come some problems. New was bad. It's better to stick to pre-mutual knowledge.

He tried to take advantage of the situation. Gain something out of uncertainty. "Who do you work for?" He asks in a confabulated manor. "FBI? The Avengers?" Louis flips a page. There was a picture of a glass egg. "Interpol?"

"Interpol works for the government, you know."

Louis sets his brochure down with precise movements, back straight like his spine was a rod. "I know. I just wanted to name three examples. Sounds better, doesn’t it?”

"Well, I don't work for any of those," Harry says. “I'm under a separate organization. Not run by the government."

"It's an NGO?"

"Correct."

This was unreliable information. What was the size of this NGO? Were they large enough to hunt Louis for a sustained amount of time? Could they be associated with those superheroes in New York? Well, if that were the case, they were probably government run. Or was Harry lying? If Harry worked under the government, at least Louis would know a precipice of their plan, and measures they may take. Interpol strategies were predictable enough. An organization working beyond the government and their regulations was different.

Louis blinks hard. He's trying to refocus. Eye on the game, shoot bullet to the target. What's his target? Mr. Morrison, also known as the very rich and frankly a bland man.

He clears his throat. The room had suddenly filled with guests, and was buzzing low from everyone's talking. A woman laughed somewhere in the room. The room was almost full, and Louis had yet to find Mr. Morrison.

"So you're an adherent to an 'NGO' cult, then?" Louis says mannerly. Caught off-guard, Harry's face lit up with a smile that even touched his eyes. Louis refused to acknowledge the reaction.

"No, I'm not in a cult. Although would you like to hear a funny thing?"

Louis actually couldn't believe this man. His face must look doubtful and judgmental and when he says "Why are you even here?", He said it incredulously, because why was an agent socializing with Louis.

"I thought we premised my intentions already," Harry says curiously. He went on. "Anyway; when I got assigned this mission, I thought I'd be dealing with a cult!"

Louis blinked at him, mouth a straight line.

"So I thought—"

"Stop talking."

Cut off by Louis' abrupt demand, Harry closed his mouth. Louis didn't like when Harry looked amused. Tampering down his irritation, Louis said calmly, "the auction is about to start. I suggest you stop talking, unless you're willing to miss the available purchases."

Harry snorts deprecatingly. "Okay."

Louis shifts his attention to the front, the displays of red carpeting and a stage light that is the only source for light in a dark room making his nerves go haywire. The only way to explain it.

Just then, the same man from earlier strides to the center podium, a smile still on his tanned skin. Under the lights, the man's black hair looks sleekier than previous states, and light reflects off it. It's oddly enough of a grounding for Louis to grasp his senses and steel his mind into the mission; soon.

Louis tips his head to the left a bit, stretching his neck. He realizes how the room has filled up.

The man clears his throat and the rooms' talking dies down. "Hello to everyone, pleasure to have you here," the man speaks. The room's occupants are smiling at him, and not to be outdone, Louis plasters on a smile as well. The man goes off to a talk relative to the admiration for attending, the auction's history, the first item being brought out, so on.

Throughout the course of an hour, he endures people raising paddles to up the prices, and whenever one gains an artifact from the front, the room claps. As if they weren't ascending to madness another item was passed along. Unless they had eyes set on something specific, it was free feeding.

Louis sat straight in his chair the whole time, so when Mr. Morrison was betting against another man across the room for the Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered 3 painting, worth roughly half a million American dollars after the prices were raised to the stake, he didn't show any facial expression change. Mr. Morrison won. Harry looked back at Louis and with a slow turn of his body, and his lips curled into a twisted smile. Louis’ eyes hardened a layer.

So he knew.

#Larry Stylinson #larry stylinson fanfiction #don't steal #the butterfly effect

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youllallriseintheink · 3 years

Text

Lasting Melodies, chapter 2: Now I Only Sing Alone

About ten days ago, I thought I’d make a story for Jack Fain and Sammy Lawrence, showing their snippets of their lives together from their first performance to Jack’s untimely death. I was not planning on it being two chapters and almost four thousand words long.

I hope you all enjoy this.

---

“And that’s how ah lost my old set of keys to a pack of stray cats! Anyhow, can ya tell Sammy that I’ll need to borrow his? He’d probably kill me if I did it myself!”

“Sure thing, Wally. Just... try to make the next set last a few weeks, alright? Budget is tight.”

It wouldn’t have been the first, third, or probably tenth time Jack had visited Sammy during their supposed break period for just that reason. Jack knew by now how much Sammy hated being taken out of the zone while writing music, so he just wrote down that Wally needed keys, put the note on Sammy’s desk, and tried to leave as quietly as possible. Just as he was leaving, he heard Sammy laugh drily.

“I couldn’t avoid you here if I wanted to, could I? It’s like a diet I keep cheating on.”

Jack didn’t know what to say to that. Sammy turned to look at him.

“Well, whatever. Let’s consider this break period over. Let’s get some lunch today, discuss some things.”

Thankfully, noon came fairly quickly- Jack’s heart rate hadn’t settled since Sammy invited him to lunch.

“So... obviously keeping my distance didn’t work, but we can’t just go back to the way things were, either.”

“Yeah. Look, I know that you’re with Susie now, and that’s okay. But have you figured what you wanted out of life, yet?”

Sammy sighed. “I guess. I always figured I’d be doing something bigger with my life, but Joey does treat me well. It’s hard to admit that you’re just comfortable enough to settle.”

Jack nodded. “And I mean, you are making a name for yourself! Joey worships you, most of the music department either fears you, envies you, or lusts after you, and everyone knows your name. It must feel great.”

“I meant making a name for myself outside the studio. But yeah, as far as working in Joey Drew Studios goes, I guess I’m pretty lucky. Are you staying here, too? I know a part of you wants back in the limelight.”

“Nah. This is a crazy place, but hey, I get to dedicate myself to my favourite thing and work under my best friend. I do miss being a stage personality, but that was always a long shot. And I’ve realized that I don’t need people to notice me like that.”

“Good, because there’s something I’ve wanted to ask you. So... Susie already knows that I’m bisexual. I haven’t asked her yet, but if you could join us, would you?”

Jack was taken aback. A part of him wanted to say yes, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea. “Sammy, no. You might swing both ways, but I don’t.”

“Then don’t sleep with her?” Sammy said as though the solution was obvious.

Jack sighed. “Fine. That’s not my hesitation. Look- if we did that, who would you be showing off to your parents on Christmas? Who would you be saying your vows to?”

Sammy became defensive. “It’s not like I can give you that anyhow. Susie wouldn’t be taking anything away from you that wasn’t already out of reach.”

“You aren’t getting it. I was fine with keeping ‘us’ a secret, but I don’t want to be your dirty secret while you’re openly with someone else. Especially not... someone you kind of left me for. I’m sorry. Plus, I’ve been seeing someone else the past couple weeks.” He said it as gently as possible, but he knew they weren’t the nicest words to hear.

“Oh,” Sammy said, annoyed and disappointed.

Jack searched for a way to soften the blow. “Susie does seem like a great girl, though- I’d love to get to know her better. Why don’t you bring her to that new bar in town this Friday night, and I’ll bring my new partner so you can meet him?”

Sammy muttered a “sure,” finished up quickly, and left, clearly annoyed.

Sammy’s annoyance had dissipated by Friday night, thankfully. Susie and Jack’s new partner got along, and things seemed to have gone back to normal between him and Sammy. It seemed like they’d be just fine as friends.

---

“Just so you know, Jack- Susie recently underwent a serious life change. It’s not exactly easy for her, so please just be supportive, okay?”

“Sure- isn’t that what I do best?” Jack promised. Neither of them were exactly strangers to Susie Drama- something similar had happened a few weeks ago when Susie had been replaced as the voice of Alice Angel. Or so Jack thought until Sammy pointed her out from the crowd.

“Susie?”

“Yep.”

The woman bore little resemblance to any human being. Her skin was white as chalk, her arms and torso were too thin and elongated, her eyes were too big, and she had horns and a painful-looking halo growing out of her skull. It was as though an alien had read a written description of an attractive woman and attempted to make one out of plastic.

Jack forced himself to look away out of politeness.

“Yeah, please don’t act shocked. She’s gotten enough of that already,” Sammy requested. Jack nodded in response.

Later in the day, when she was sure Sammy wasn’t around, Susie confided in him that she was already having second thoughts about her new body. “Don’t tell Sammy,” she’d said. “He’s... a part of this, and he’d feel awful if he knew.”

For the first time, Jack began to question just what Sammy was involved with.

---

Sammy had been looking over sheet music when he felt Susie’s ice-cold black hands squeeze his arm like a vice.

“Sammy, I need you to lock me up!” she begged, fear and hot tears building in her eyes.

“Susie, why-”

“Just do it! No questions, please!”

“Calm down... Uh, I’ll...” were there any rooms in the studio that could only unlock from the inside?

Suddenly, Alice shoved past him, into the middle of the music room. Allison, who had been speaking with Jack, barely had time to turn and notice her before Alice had tackled her against a wall. Everyone backed away in terror as Alice ripped off Allison’s chestnut-brown hair and began banging Allison’s head against a wall until there was blood on her scalp and dripping out of her nose. Norman could be heard descending the stairs from his projector booth. He pushed through the crowd and tore Susie away, leaving Allison, bruised and half-bald, to crumple to the ground.

“Okay, someone call the ambulance for Allison,” Norman barked, still restraining Alice as she squirmed and struggled. Then, he turned to glare at Sammy. “And you get the people who will look after this.”

Sammy shuddered, suspecting, not for the first time, that Norman knew his secrets. But he couldn’t not handle the situation, and so he did as he was told.

Within five minutes, Alice was being escorted away by three large, burly men in dark green GENT uniforms.

“Tell them to record what you can without me,” Sammy muttered to Jack. “And tell them not to bother me under any circumstances. And... can you meet me after work?”

“Of course,” Jack replied.

Sammy nodded in response and then disappeared into his office for the the rest of the workday.

When Jack met up with Sammy at the end of the day, he still looked as fragile as spun glass- understandable after what had happened.

“Hey... do you want to come over for the evening, see if we can distract you from this?”

Sammy said nothing, but stood up and wrapped his arms around Jack. Jack held him for a while and let him cry. Jack was shedding a few tears, too- Susie had been a good friend, and it seeing her snap like that would have shaken anyone up.

“It’s okay. I’m sure that wherever they took her, she’ll be fine. They’ll help her get back to normal. Hey, if you want, we could visit her in the asylum, see how she’s doing-”

Sammy looked to Jack, trying to find the words as to explain that that wasn’t possible without saying too much. Somehow, Sammy didn’t think Jack would let him cry on his shoulder if he knew that Susie would never see the light of day again, and it was partially Sammy’s own fault.

“I know you want to tell me something. You don’t have to right now. Alright?”

And for the moment, he didn’t. But in the future, he’d have to be more careful.

---

Susie’s capture was felt by the whole music room, and not just because she was no longer lighting it up with her smile. There was an air of unease, of mystery on everything now, as though the next act of violence could be perpetrated be anyone and at any time. It pushed Jack to spend more time holed up in the sewers, and Sammy to build his own private sanctuary. Once Allison returned to work a few days later, the distrustful feelings gradually began to dissipate for most.

But not for Sammy. The effects of Susie’s capture, or something related to it, seemed to linger on him for months.

Sammy had grown paranoid around the others, and more people spoke amongst each other about what might have snapped in his brain than were willing to risk speaking to him directly. Jack worried for him, but Sammy refused to say what was bothering him, and increasingly refused his (or anyone else’s) company. He felt as though there was little to do to help him.

---

The sound of a beating heart echoed off the walls of the sewers. The ink demon grinned. The walls of the infirmary had been no match for him, and though the sewer’s thick concrete walls would most likely present more of the problem, being able to stretch his legs after months spent in one room was extremely satisfying in and of itself.

Meanwhile, Jack was frozen in fear. The creature- lord only knew what it was- hadn’t seemed to notice him yet. Jack holed up under his desk, praying that it would pass him by.

The pumping sound grew nearer.

And nearer.

Until it seemed to stop directly in front of him.

Jack carefully put his head to the ground, trying to get a peek from under his desk without making a sound. It only allowed him to see a couple feet in front of the desk, but it was enough to show that the shadowy tendrils that surrounded the creature were mere inches from him. The creature took a step forwards, and Jack could feel the creature’s shadows wrapping around him, stealing his heat, and spreading from his hands to encompass his whole body. He was paralyzed.

The ink demon tipped over his desk, grabbed him by the leg, and dragged him over his desk and to the center of the sewer, where it held Jack’s head under the tar-like ink until he drowned.

---

Not for the first time, Sammy stepped into the passenger seat of Joey’s Pontiac. It was Thursday, and they always met on Thursdays to study and practice magic together. The experience was usually, well, magical- Joey had finally found the way to be a God in Sammy’s life. But apparently, not today. Sammy sat, arms crossed and silent, for at least a minute before speaking. “Where is he, Joey? What happened to Jack Fain?”

“You tell me!” Joey said in earnest surprise. “What’s happened to him?”

“He’s been missing for four days. That’s what’s happened. He punched in on Monday and never punched out. He won’t pick up his phone, and his partner doesn’t know where he is either. Don’t tell me you didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“I honestly didn’t.”

“Nothing new came out of the ink machine?”

Joey sighed heavily. “A new searcher came out of it. But that doesn’t mean anything! It could be anyone!”

Tears sprung up in Sammy’s eyes. “Drop me off at my place. I don’t want to do this tonight.”

Joey didn’t believe for a second that Sammy was only quitting for tonight. He was losing him unless he did something. “Really?” Joey said gently, “Something like this, while tragic, should encourage you if anything, shouldn’t it?”

Sammy looked to him with tired, mournful eyes.

“Think about it- if we don’t keep learning about the machine, we’ll never learn to reverse its process. Susie, Jack, anyone else who ends up connected to it- you need to keep working with me here so that we can set them free.”

Sammy laid back in his seat. “Look- I’m not going to be good company tonight... but that’s your problem. Go on, drive to the studio. Let’s do this.”

“Good. Good man.”

That night, along with the ink angel that bore no resemblance to Susie and the four or so other ink creatures that Joey or some GENT worker had locked up previously, Sammy saw a swollen searcher in a cage. If it recognized him at all, it showed no sign of it. It was a few days before Sammy managed to sneak down and give him back his hat.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #my fanfiction #sammy x jack #sammy lawrence #susie campbell #Jack Fain #joey drew

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butterfly-winx · 4 years

Text

Seen a lot of talk about relationships in people’s rewrites, and I wanted to share my headcanons for the “butterfly fic” AU! (I’m currently going on an S6+ timeline, so the story starts off with all canon couples and then... crumbles from there)

Bloom x Sky: The two of them got together for real at the end of S2 in this timeline, after the identity shrouding/theft both of them pulled made their start rocky. They both understand why the other did it, but it doesn’t make it any better or easier to bear after months of insecurity, thinking they would be dumped eventually when the truth came out. S3 though S4 they are well off, but then the whammy hits when Sky loses his memories during the oil rig rescue mission. He still knows Bloom and that he loves her, but even after a year he doesn’t feel like he can recover the version of his self that he has been before. Bloom tries to assure him as best as she can, showing him that she can learn how to love the “new” him as well. Their lives end up on hugely different trajectories that lead to their relationship slowly crumbling over the S8 timeline, during which Bloom is going crazy worries about her sanity and reliability (👀). Bloom also slowly finds herself developing feelings for Stella after the other confesses. In the end Bloom and Sky go their separate ways amicably.

Stella x Brandon: So, Stella confesses to Bloom, then how does SxB work out? Well, both Stella and Brandon are home of sexuals in a mutually beneficial fake relationship. They did date of course back in the S1-2 time, fully conforming to what society expected of people of their standing. Stella believed as long as she could find a guy ok enough to settle with, everything would be fine. She could be happy. Brandon on the other hand was a bit more aware of his crush on Sky, but he though if he hid behind a relationship with a conventionally feminine and attractive girl he could squash all rumours and budding feelings. Internalised homophobia is a bitch that did a number on both of them. Though this is not to say there are no real emotions between them. Stella loves Brandon deeply, they consider each other their respective closest friend. In that vein, Stella would do anything to make life as stable and comfortable for Brandon - after his childhood had been less so - including marrying him to make him a prince. Since Solaria supports polyamory, this comes at no additional strain for her. His presence in the meantime wards off other suitors and creeps, for which she is very thankful, as it gives her space to figure out her feelings about Bloom. And oooh does she have many. She eventually confesses during the S8 timeline, but has to wait quite a while for a positive response, after which Stella and Brandon both come clean about the nature of their relationship to the rest of the world. In the end, Stella is lucky enough to celebrate not one, but two fun weddings.

Brandon: He gets his own column, because his story goes on separate from Stella’s. While the engagement to Stella is still on the table in the S6 timeline, Brandon struggles both with his crumbling team of Specialists and his feelings about the new recruit. Alright, he did not recruit Roy to the team because he thought he was cute. Brandon thinking that and low-key flirting with him came after they settled on the addition to their team. But BxR doesn’t have a long future after Roy believes Brandon cheated on Stella by sleeping with him. Plus his tension with Layla eventually lead to Roy leaving the team mid S7. Long after that, Brandon gets over his crush for Sky, just when Sky is in the middle of a life crisis and Brandon tries his best not to get sucked in too deep again, but that hurts Sky and irreparably damages the close friendship they had before.

Flora x Helia: Ah yes, unproblematic faves. Don’t change what isn’t broken. (Their S5 trouble isn’t about Flora being jealous about a literal teenager, but rather about her shock of him being so willing to close off and leave behind people from different stages of his life.) The two of them would be set for marriage if such a custom existed on Lynphea, but they definitely plan on raising a family on planet once that is an option again.

Timmy x Techna: Equally low drama zone. They felt a bit pushed together when they first got acquainted as their friends started to date each other. Techna was having their gender identity crisis for the majority of S2 so a relationship was furthest away from their mind. They softly flirted in S3 as they grew closer, which as we know ended in Timmy losing his marbles when Techna got sucked into the Omega portal. He confessed right as the rescue mission was still happening and the two of them have been going strong since then. In S5 they even move together, which Musa joins in S6 (they had a two bedroom flat, just in case they needed the extra space from each other, when/if things weren’t working out, but they were using only the one bedroom anyway, so Musa was welcome there) Surprising everyone who knew them, Timmy and Techan were actually the first ones to get married. After Timmy’s family was becoming more and more hostile, denouncing him for his choice of career, Techna thought it was the most logical thing to get married and grant Timmy much better social security. The two of them plus Musa living together were falling into a tooth-rottingly cute domesticity, until life got unexpectedly difficult.

Musa x Riven: The drama central couple that never should have gotten together. In retrospect everything was super clear to Musa: they had gotten together after Riven had rescued her from Shadowhaunt, playing the hero he had always wanted to be - this streak for glory being the thing that ruined their relationship down the road. Riven’s insecurity got the best of him during S5 and he couldn’t stop comparing himself to Sky, feeling helpless even beside Musa herself. She of course was incredibly offended her boyfriend only wanted her as long as she was waifish and he could swoop in for the rescue, so as soon as Domino was restored the two of them broke up, Riven going his own way, away from the Specialist team itself. Reflecting over the mistakes of her relationship cause Musa to realise she was forcing herself to like a lot of things about Riven, and maybe she was actually also interested in women as well. Layla welcomes her to the wlw world and suggests Musa put herself out there. However Musa doesn’t find love anytime soon (not like there weren’t options out there, like Galatea would go on a date with her in a heartbeat if Musa only asked) And then after moving together with Techna and Timmy, the three of them fall asleep on the same couch one too many times for Musa to start thinking there might be something there, a bit more than just friendship.. and then of course she ruins it, cause....

Riven x Darcy: He enters the story again in the S8 timeline, and disappears quickly again after Flora gives him the worst advice of her life (that she thought he looked genuinely happy with Darcy, hoping he wouldn’t force the thing with Musa). So he goes looking for Darcy, unintentionally setting off the whole plot for this arc, because Darcy is not where she should be prison and she is not there on her own accord. Darcy and Riven continue to have a thing on and off (seeing as she is a wanted criminal and shit) and that drives Musa up the wall. She may or may not still have feelings for Riven. Upset, she looks for an outlet with her quarantine mate, and that ladies and gents, is bad decision central

Stormy x Musa: Bad decision central. A drunken one night stand, let’s not talk about it anymore.

Layla x Nex: A sweet one sided crush that goes nowhere. Nex tries, but Layla is nowhere near ready to date again when he steps into her life in S7. He takes the rejection with dignity and the two of them try to remain friends, as best as they can, when Nex suddenly becomes the biggest critic of Layla’s chosen relationship in S8 (he means well of course, and once again, despite the Riven-vibes he gives off, he knows when to shut up).

Layla x Orion: A girl can only handle so much flirting on galactic starsailers before she starts noticing a kind of chemistry she tried to suppress from budding for years after a huge personal loss. Are LxO a match made in heaven? Probably not, but they offer interesting perspectives to each other and are both happy with a casual relationship at that point. Things get tense about a year in when Layla pitches that she does want something more permanent and Orion’s first instinct is to nope out of there. But despite themself, Orion has to realise they really like Layla way too much just to let her go because of their attachment issues. The actual relationship between them is a bit on hold until after everything in the Universe is sorted, but in the meantime Orion becomes the biggest supporter of Layla going her own way and exploring independence away from what people expect of her. Deciding that being a nymph and protecting the whole Universe is way more important to her than following the path the circumstances of her birth set out for her, Layla eventually settles with her partner sailing the winds of the cosmos.

Daphne x ?: Immortal Queen. Needs no one in life except maybe her right-hand woman to lean on 👀

Some one-sided crushes that went nowhere, but were sweet anyway:

Musa x Layla: not a secret that Musa had a thing for Layla when she transferred to Alfea in S2

Sky x Riven: Due to his amnesia, Sky idiotically forgot he was already out as bi and had a whole crisis, as he developed a tiny crush on Riven of all people

Icy x Tritannus: Gets an honourable mention here because it wasn’t true love, but obsession with power on both sides

Musa x Stella: Not as pronounced as Musa’s other crushes, but on the down low she always softly admired Stella and it turns out what she felt wasn’t envy like internalised societal expectations made her believe

Diaspro x Sky: Once again, a bit more obsessive than loving. Diaspro saw Sky like a lifeline and she hyperfocused on being able to call a husband her own. After her betrayal and prison time she mellows out, gets pardoned and gets a kind of “stupid, but loving” bf who would kiss the floor she walks on.

#winx club #winx ships #winx bloom #winx stella #winx layla #winx flora #winx musa #winx techna #worldbuilding #butterfly fic #everybody makes horrible decisions in this au #why am I like this?#me at characters: suffer puppet!#just kidding most of them get a happy ending

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mnthpprt · 4 years

Text

Chapter 20: The Actress Drops Her Mask

[edited to add my cover because a couple people liked the last one]

“What a terrible composition.” Several minutes into the sonata, a man standing nearby begins to complain. “I don’t understand why the host likes him so much, that hornswoggler can’t even play well.”

I turn to the man, and raise an eyebrow upon seeing the rounded, short-nailed fingers gripping his glass close to his face. A jealous pianist, no doubt. And a very drunk one, too.

“Really? I’ve heard some people claim him to be Mozart reborn,” I say, nonchalant, and hold back a smile. If only he knew. Thankfully, no one seems to be paying attention to us.

“Then those people are imbeciles!” he declares angrily before downing what’s left in his glass. After he regains his composure, he gets uncomfortably close to me. “What is a belle mademoiselle like yourself doing all alone here?”

Shit, apparently some men will be gross regardless of the time’s customs.

“Actually, I came here with...”

Halfway through my sentence, I spot Shakespeare talking to another gentleman, not too far from us. I wave my hand in the air to catch his attention, and soon he is walking towards us.

“Guillaume!” I exclaim, and curl my arm around his. “You know I hate it when you leave me alone like that, my love.” Unfazed by my whining, he plays along without missing a beat and reaches up to stroke my cheek.

“My sweet rose, thou knowest I shall always come back to thee. For where thou art, there is the world itself, and where thou art not, desolation.” I recognize the quote from one of his plays, but I fail to remember which one.

“Oh, Guillaume, you’re making me blush!” I pull him closer, effortlessly playing the role of the smitten lover, and lean up to whisper into his ear through a fake smile. “Get me out of here.”

“Let us go out into the balcony, my dearest Anaïs,” he says, wrapping his arm around my waist. “We shall find more privacy there, where thou shall need not whisper these sweet nothings that make my heart flutter.”

The second we set foot outside, hidden from view, I let go and step away from him.

“Thanks,” I say before taking a much needed sip of champagne. “That man is green with envy, it was insufferable. By the way, I hate roses,” I chuckle, remembering the nickname he gave me.

“But thy beauty is that of the most lovely flower. Besides, it is always my pleasure to aid a damsel in distress,” he smiles, and I roll my eyes. A damsel in distress? Please, I practically dragged him here.

I look inside to make sure no one is watching, and proceed to set my glass on the stone railing and lift the hem of my dress, this time to grab the box of cigarillos tied to my left leg. Shakespeare observes me in silence, and shakes his head when I offer one. I light mine and lean on the balustrade, inhaling a deep puff of smoke.

“Thou art full of surprises, Anaïs,” he finally speaks. “I knew when I laid eyes upon thee that thou art not an ordinary woman.” I perk up and look at him.

“Did le Comte not tell you? I’m from the 21st century.”

“I was aware of thou being a guest of his, but he neglected to mention thou hadst traveled through time as well,” he says, his mismatched eyes shining with curiosity. They almost look like they’re glowing, like a cat’s. He gives me a tilted smile. “Thou art quite the actress, I must say.”

I playfully take a bow, stifling a laugh.

“You’re not too bad yourself. Although I should expect nothing less, from the great Bard of Avon himself,” I say, lifting the cigarillo to my lips. I thoughtfully look out from the balcony and breathe out the smoke before turning to face him again, my eyes narrowed. “Did you write ‘The Taming of the Shrew’ as a tragedy or a comedy?”

“A tragedy,” he answers immediately, and a satisfied smile grows on my face.

“Carlos owes me 50 pounds.” He tilts his head at my celebratory statement. “I just won a bet against a friend,” I explain. “There is a lot of debate in the future about how the play is supposed to be interpreted. The general consensus is that it’s a comedy. My friend Carlos studies literature, and he thinks the misogyny portrayed is just a product of its time, but I always thought you were making a point. Same for ‘Romeo and Juliet’. Isn’t that one a comedy?”

“Of course, what else could it be?” he laughs.

“See? They got everything backwards.” I sip my champagne. “Two literal children commit suicide after knowing each other for... what, like three days? Yet people still see it as the epitome of romance. I don’t get it.”

“Most people lacketh the insight to see what thou see, it appears. Which is why I only base my plays on those whom are extraordinary, for I have lost interest in the unremarkable dealings of lesser gents.” He pauses and glances at the ballroom. “It soundeth like Mozart hath ended his performance.”

He’s right, the music has stopped. I put out my cigarillo and return the box to its place under my dress.

“I better go before he starts looking for me. I enjoyed our talk, William.” I smile and excuse myself with a nod before heading back inside.

I discard my glass on a nearby table when spot him in the crowd, receiving the praises of a small group of people. Were it not for his striking white hair, I don’t think I would have recognized him. He’s acting like a completely different person.

“I do not deserve your kind words, monsieur,” he tells one of the men, the same one with the beard that went on the stage before. I assume he is the host of the ball. He puts his arm around my back when I enter the circle. “This is my companion, Anaïs Bertran,” he introduces me with a charming smile I did not think he was capable of.

“Pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle Bertran,” he greets me, taking my hand when I hold it out. By now, I have learned the basics of social etiquette in this period. “When I heard you were a guest of my dear friend Saint Germain I could not wait to have you here,” he tells me. I guess ‘Guillaume’ filled him in on some details. “Oh, how rude of me, I forgot to introduce myself! Pardon me, mademoiselle. Marcel Rossignol, at your disposal.”

“Thank you for inviting me, monsieur Rossignol,” I say with a polite smile. “Tonight has been lovely so far”

“I am glad to hear that. It is about to get even better. I trust you like waltz?”

Before I can answer, the small band that now takes up the stage begins playing, and ‘Wolfram Theophilus Perti’ extends his hand for me to take, to the delight of the group, who observe us in fascination.

“Will you dance with me, Anaïs?”

“It would be my pleasure, Wolf.” I take his hand and he guides me to the center of the ballroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I could swear I just saw a young lady swoon, and I can’t help but quietly agree with the sentiment. With his insufferably haughty attitude kept in check, Mozart seems to be quite the charmer. Not to mention how incredibly beautiful he is.

He leads effortlessly, and I follow his impeccably coordinated steps with his hand on my waist and mine on his shoulder. The dance itself is easy, like skating without the wheels. Once he knows I can keep up, he twirls us into increasingly elaborate moves, carefully avoiding other couples that have joined us.

“I am surprised you haven’t tripped yet,” he says, suddenly reminding me who my dance partner is.

“God, you’re the worst.”

He sends me on a spin with incredible speed, which I interpret as retaliation for my remark. This is his passive aggressive way of challenging me.

“Where did you learn to dance like this?” I ask once we slow down.

“My father was always strict and obsessed with perfection. Socializing is part of being a musician, especially when the aristocracy is involved. I hate it with a passion, but I do what I have to. For the music.”

“Oh.” This is the most he’s ever talked to me, and I don’t really know how to respond. Before I can think of something to say, he ends our brief conversation by spinning me around once again.

By the time the song ends, I need to catch my breath. Mozart’s surprising agility is incredibly hard to keep up with, and I am exhausted from the effort it took to prove him wrong and avoid stepping on his feet. It was undeniably fun, however, and I enjoyed the challenge. The next song is slower, which provides a much needed break for my concentration and an excellent opportunity to keep talking. I am intrigued by this beautiful man, and his cold demeanor just makes me want to tear down his walls even more.

“I like how passionate you are about what you do,” I tell him. “I wish I was more like you in that sense.” I mean every word of it. Mozart is so devoted to his music that he has become one with it, to the point of using it as his language. During the week and a half that I have stayed at the mansion, I couldn’t help but notice how his emotions are so clearly displayed through the songs he plays. When I bring him hot chocolate, his melodies tend to become light and comforting. A few days ago, his music sheets flew out the window of his room. After I went to return them, the notes became fast and aggressive, because he was upset that the papers had become soiled from falling in the garden. What he feels is bare for all to hear, despite how emotionless he acts. One only needs to listen.

“Why?” he simply asks. It’s like he can’t understand what I am saying.

“What do you mean, why?” He just stares blankly at me as we keep dancing. At least he is no longer spinning until I get dizzy. “To have something to live for. To have a purpose,” I answer. To me, it’s obvious. “I’m just going through the motions, you know? Like waltz. I take the same steps every day, just to keep moving. I breathe, I eat, and I sleep. I water the flowers, I read... And all for what? I just feel like I keep waiting for something, but I have no idea what that is. I’ll be stuck in this pointless cycle until the day I die.”

I want to blame the champagne on an empty stomach, but to be fair, he’s the one who asked. After making me realize how tired I am of pretending, no less. Everything’s fine, I tell myself, ignoring every single thing that makes it not fine. In truth, I am merely surviving, keeping myself busy to forget how much I wish I could just... become a lump of moss, or something. That would be an easier existence. No consciousness, no problems.

“You sound like Jean.” I have no idea what that means, but I don’t bother to ask. “It’s not pointless... You make good chocolate.”

I chuckle at the compliment. This is the first positive thing Mozart has ever said to me. I look up at him as we dance, and am surprised to see him smile. It is so faint, but undoubtedly genuine this time, and the light tug at the corners of his mouth makes me feel better. I am starting to like him.

“That shall be my newfound purpose, then,” I joke, mirroring his smile. “Making you chocolate.”

The song comes to an end, and Mozart leads me away from the dance floor. He finds Rossignol and lets him know that we must leave, before thanking him for the evening. Though it is still early, I don’t complain. I think I want to get out of here too.

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevamp #ikemen #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikevam fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #ikemen vampire shakespeare #ikevamp shakespeare #ikemen vampire mozart #ikevamp mozart #cover

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splendidshinobi · 3 years

Text

FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST 2003 LIVE REACT: EPISODES 26-30

been awhile since i’ve watched but.... another day, another emotional rollercoaster

episode 26: her reason

who’s her and what’s her reason

bother him ALLLLL you want maria ross...bother him all day long

he deserves it

INVOICE HAHAHAHAHA

dont yell at maria fuck off!!!!

GIRLY WHAT IS IZUMI DOING!!!!!!!!

i screamed i did

i love sig and izumi sm!!!!!!

omg ed and al’s faces

PANINYAAAAAAA

why does she have an automail arm whAT

i feel almost insulted for paninya’s dope weapon legs

oh wait ive seen this arm wrestling scene before lmao

go paninya goooo

i do not tolerate this mr dominic slander

OH NO DO NOT INSULT QUEEN WINRY’S WORK

sucks to suck!!!!

i do think winry may have just fallen in love

ed is such a simp though

JUMBO????? his name iS JUMBO??????

al’s mousy little what?

yikes yeah you know what winry id be pissed too

she felt so good about her work!!!

crush over

jk theyre soulmates

wow roy ur so smart

damn oh ok they kept paninya’s legs too

so she only has 1 biological limb wow

paninya is definitely a lesbian

we’ve all known that though i mean-----the camo pants

i saw paninya wearing army pants and flip flops, so i bought army pants and flip flops

oh my god winry you DEVIOUS BASTARD

i can see why people ship paninya and winry but im sorry im an edwin simp

young pinako is hot i get it dominic

OH MY GOD DEVIOUS

WINRY LMAO

GUN LEGS!

kill him?? pANINYA think about that before you shoot someone!!!

AWWWWWW ED!!!! “best automail in the world!!!!” IM CRYING

“hello sir” alphonse you sweet boy

sheska u good???

OPE HEY CURTISES

ed why are you sad

omg winry dont cry!!!!

hahahaha sig

THE BOYS’ FACES LMAO

episode 27: teacher

izumi time lets gooooooooooooo

the ominous music lolololol

THE WINDOW

WHERE IS ALPHONSE

RIGHT THERE

ED’S FUCKING FACE HAHAHAHA

grumman!!!!!

STEW TONIGHT FUCK YEAH

xerxes drop

edward you are being so foreboding

izumi queen of my life lets go girl!!!

umbrella king sig curtis!!!

ed you dumbass!!!!!

angry face boys

mom dad and the kids on the train!!!! makes me cry

awww win’s gonna miss the dudes

omg havoc plzzzz

why is he calling riza like she doesnt already know shes going too

do not leave my boy falman behind!!!

oh good ok

mason my dude!!!

“yes maam”

this is UNCOMFORTABLE

guys i simp for sig tbh

omg al scary boy

uh oh she SAWWWWWWW you!!!

aww i forgot about the dead cat goddamnit

not THE KITTY

ok but those baby kittens need some MELK

its all over for you two watch out

cant hide JACK SHIT from mama bear

yikes

she gonna kick your ass oof

hugs oh thats nice

episode 28: all is one, one is all

island timeeee

wait theyre on island time PART 2???? ok

the way sig’s HAND---- anyway

ok so creepy naked child??

im suspicious

clearly the boys didnt read my hero academia

or the three musketeers

al really got YEETED

yote?

oh the kid has clothes on. leaf clothes

i know dublith is in the “south” but is it really a tropical locale?

aww the bunny

“kill it”

owie hope you dont get rabies edward

the ost man so good for both series

al really said J’ACCUSE

they didnt know the masked man was mason the first time around? aight

im really having trouble typing and eating dumplings at the same time

might pause for a dumpling break

i made these in the microwave theyre pretty good

def not the best ive had but they were, ya know, microwaved

anyways sad al hours

YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS YOUR BROTHER????

it’s the circle of life simba

getting REAL philosophical rn

“dont call me small”

now we’re getting REAL scientific

im just imagining these idiots on shrooms rn

mannnnnnnnnnnn

WAIT IMAGINE LING YAO ON SHROOMS

wow what a yummy snake breakfast

izumi said 👁 👄 👁

izumi is so hot

that is the creepiest motherfucker i ever did see

ok im gonna go rinse this dish out be back in a min!!!

episode 29: the untainted child

i am the tainted adult

you SURE his parents are lookin?

i feel like izumi is being very loving towards this child

what happened to tough love bbygirl

im not saying shes not loving in her ways but shouldnt she by nature be a litttttleeee bit more sus of this kid???

dont tell me

this is sig and izumi’s “child”

theory pending

winry is such a protective lil egg

here’s whats cookin in my head

its sig and izumi’s child and ed’s arm and leg smooshed together into a homunculus...theory still pending but im definitely right

WHY DOES SIG SLEEP W HIS EYES OPEN SIR!!!!!!!

whole situation is a mess my dudes

what did u do kid?????

“i know ed lies sometimes”

l oh fucking l

who transmutes themselves with a bed though

not the move kid

OPE

of course winry slept through this whole thing

sheska and elicia and gracia. my heart.

did the colonel just LEAVE HER BEHIND? god what a dick

sheska WENT OFFFFFFFF!!!!!!

yes maam!!!!!!!

u tell that dumbass!!!!!!

why does envy have to sit like that

gon make me SIMP

embarrassing

*debby ryan hair tuck meme*

i love the way al sits

hes so dainty

what a gent

oh that lil kid was in the gate!!!!

how a homunculus is born? please tell me more

ARCHER....my sister was texting me about him when she asked how far i was. i googled him i saw his....bod....

yup

ARM AND LEG CONFIRMED

my brain waves are unparalleled

ED REALLY JUST YEETED WINRY AND KABEDONED THE HOMUNCULUS

EDWARD STOPPPPPPPPPPPPP OMG

off goes the kid

BIDOOOOOOOOOOO <3

why is she upset??? what did you realize izumi

that its your baby??? probs

im just that smart

episode 30: assault on south headquarters

YOKI LMAO

seeing yoki and scar makes me miss mei chang

MEI CHANG SUPREMACY

yoki really about to snitch

BIDOOOOOO

everyone showing up this episode

greed is gonna roll up with a venti frappuccino any minute now

archer is a creep

is this footage from the arnold classic?

“the muscles did the talking for them”

archer is a creep

who ru calling a freak HAHA AL’s angwy voice

ope

how IS hughes doing

pls not the pain

how did this kid come into the corporeal world

armstrong what

OUROBOROS

so he’s either wrath or pride ig

i dont think bradley is a homunculus in this one

yoki is basically michael yagoobian aka the bowler hat guy

there’s greed lmao

with the ladies

EW NO PLEASE GOD

I DONT WANT ANY MORE SHOU TUCKER

KIMBLEE WHAT

WHAT THE FUCK WHO CUT HIS HAIR LIKE THAT

WHO ALLOWED THAT I AM CHOKING

NOT THE MULLET PONYTAIL

izumi taking on the military

of course

kimblee JESUS

bradley is EVERYWHERE at ALL TIMES

this is rOUGH

there are so many parties vying for the kid

i still cant get over kimblee like WHAT

WHAT IS HIS PURPOSE HERE

AGAIN it just seems like bradley is everywhere at all times

#carol watches fma03 #fullmetal alchemist #carol's remaining brain cells #hi!!!!!#back w reactz #yay

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toongrrl-blog · 3 years

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Perpetua: A Potential Heroine for our times.

Hi everyone we are going to rant about the Bridget Jones series once again and talk about a character, who I feel came too early before our current zeitgeist of bad bitch feminism and the #GirlBoss: Perpetua.

Perpetua is not intended to be likable. She is very posh, snooty, a bit arrogant, and demanding of Bridget and people she works with, greeting Bridget with a slight sneer as she comes into work and Bridget’s inner monologue voices a desire to staple stuff to her head for having gained a bit of power over Bridget in the publishing company Pemberley Press. Gee, let’s see what we have: entitled, snooty, fancy, having the attitude they are above it all, who has those traits? I’ll wait *sipping tea*

But we notice something about Perpetua; after Bridget’s relationship with Daniel implodes because he was using her as his side piece and decides to find a better job elsewhere, Bridget goes to Daniel to tell him she is quitting. Perpetua overhears and picks up on what has been going on (she is appalled at what she is hearing) and as soon as Daniel tries to beg Bridget to stay, Perpetua gets up to defend Bridget: “I want to hear this, because if she gives one inch, I’m going to fire her bony arse for being totally spineless!” To her smiling pride, she sees Bridget tell Daniel off and leave the publishing company...and that’s the last we see of Perpetua. Even after that (awesome) scene, my teenage self got the message that it’s better to be a Bridget over a Perpetua, a bubbly but insecure girl who tries to conform to the male gaze over a stoic and IDGAF woman who does what she wants. I also heard messages from people, like my parents, telling me how important it was to act and look a certain way to be “likable”; it was better to be insecure and conventionally feminine rather than to be confident not very popular but self-assured. Also Bridget was the rom-com heroine who had people fall in love with her, Perpetua was seen as stuck-up and she was thrown to the wayside. Who stood to reap the benefits of our society?

Looking back, I found out that after almost 20 years of trying to be a Bridget: the “relatable” insecure girl next door type who is vulnerable and needs the validation of those to find her desirable and “worth it” that I’m wasn’t the likable, conventionally pretty and feminine Bridget...I was Perpetua: not always likable, assertive, willing to put her neck out there, not always sociable, but assured of her intelligence and her ability to turn heads. Plus we have our signature style and know how to work accessories. While Bridget dresses basic and in miniskirts (she wants to blend in but also attract men), Perpetua stands out in her headbands, pearls, cardigans, and pie-crust collars combining the elements that I loved in a younger Hillary Rodham Clinton, Peggy Olson, Nancy Wheeler, and Raquel Rodriguez Orozco from Destinos: An Introduction to Spanish. Just a Power Preppie who figured out how to stick out and take her place in a male-dominated workplace, with no apologies.

After watching Tee Noir’s video on women who were declared to be problematic but upon second viewing and reading were raising valid points about their situation or the situations they observed but lacked the likability or popularity to be taken seriously, I was inspired to finally write this post. As Perpetua was a woman who showcased what it was like to live life on your terms and not ask for the permission of anyone to validate you. A woman who may have envied Bridget’s “bony arse” but didn’t let her size or peoples’ perceptions of her appearance get in the way of getting what she wanted from others.

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Here are some tropes and issues I will be referring to in this order, as they relate to Perpetua’s role in the films and books and how they regard her.

Fatphobia: Being Targeted by Internalized Hatred

“Ah. Introduce people with thoughtful details. Perpetua, this is Mark Darcy. Mark is a prematurely middle-aged prick with a cruel raced ex-wife. Perpetua is a fat-ass old bag who spends her time bossing me around.” Bridget Jones’s inner monologue, Bridget Jones’s Diary (2001)

We all know that Bridget Jones is notoriously famous for obsessing over her weight (134 lbs. at 5′4″, which is pretty fine) and that there have been reviews of the books and the movies condemning her or passive-aggressively noting that she isn’t Hollywood Thin and how it was remarkable for she (with hourglass curves, wears a small to medium size, blonde and blue eyed, average pretty at her worst) to get Colin Firth and Hugh Grant (in their prime) to fight over her. Whether we go by the timeline of the books (her birth year being 1962, Marilyn Monroe’s death) or the movies (her birth year being 1969 in the first film, post Jayne Mansfield), we see that Bridget grew up in and became an adult in an age where the female standard of beauty had gotten thinner and thinner, with even models having their pores air-brushed away from their faces. To paraphrase a Mad Men fan when she was talking about the culture of the mid-1960s, when she was a kid and women wanted to look curvaceous as Marilyn and Elizabeth Taylor, she looked like Twiggy; when she developed the voluptuous curves, everyone wanted to look like Twiggy. The 1970s and 1980s was an age of self-improvement as female empowerment (feminism co-opted by capitalism) where dieting and getting thinner was seen as “bettering” oneself. Suddenly it wasn’t cool for Bridget to strut her stuff in a pencil skirt a la Joan Holloway, it wasn’t enough to be a junior partner or to create your own safety net, even the irresistible Veronica Lodge worried about her weight.

*WARNING: Most of my sources refer to Fat Black Women but I feel like the arguments hold up here*

Then we go to Bridget and Perpetua, aside from their personality clash, Bridget is secretly envious and outwardly disgusted by how Perpetua can be much heavier than Bridget, yet wear curve-hugging clothes and go shopping and not give a shit about how her body looked. Perpetua knows that her boyfriend appreciates her good pussy under her gut! Bridget comforts herself by telling herself that happiness comes from reaching attainable goals....like changing one’s body rather than making money or procuring items....sigh Capitalism is a son of a gun. Clearly Bridget has animosity towards Perpetua for being plump and not feeling like she needs to hide for not looking like a supermodel. But why?

Fatphobia is one way of expressing internalized hatred against one’s body and their own self. In fact, Perpetua committed the sin of loving herself (or being neutral to oneself) as she is, and stands out from the rest of the cast who are obsessed with living up to certain standards to putting forward a certain image to the world that everything is fine. In a fatphobic capitalist patriarchy, it’s quite maddening that she would develop the arrogance and entitlement that she puts on display, especially because she is a...woman! Katie Wee, in her essay for Huffington Post, talked about how it was hard for her to play a fat-shaming exercise instructor in an episode of Shrill because she wouldn’t fat shame another person, but she had practice internalizing that cruelty. Wee talks about her history of eating disorders and over-exercising, all in a bid to become a ballerina, well into her twenties. Currently she works at a body-inclusive fitness studio and that Lindy West and Aidy Bryant were very encouraging in her performance. She also said:

When Annie writes her off, I made the decision that for Tanya this hits something much deeper. It’s as if Annie is saying Tanya’s life’s work is for nothing, or her religion is bullshit. Annie is feeling content in the body she is in, and for Tanya this feels like a personal attack. The subtext to what Tanya is saying is, “If I don’t get to be happy in my body, neither do you! Especially not you.”

This was also explored in the Room 104 episode “The Hikers” where college graduates and childhood best friends go on a hiking trip before they start working or looking for work. Megan (the fabulous Shannon Purser) is plump, freckled, down to earth and happy to have gotten a job offer right after she accepted her degree while her friend Casey (Kendra Carelli) is thin, has excelled on Instagram artifice, and hasn’t procured her own job yet but is triumphant over her past popularity. Yet a placed pebble in Megan’s boot reveals that Casey has been feeling disgust over how her fat friend would thrive in a larger body and not cover up and how she was burdened with making sure she was included in social gatherings growing up, soon Casey’s angry rant after Megan voiced her disgust over Casey’s sense of superiority over her reveals that Casey is angry that being conventionally beautiful and popular hasn’t made her any happier with herself or her own life, while Megan has excelled in their young adulthood in spite of her appearance and lack of popularity. Bridget is angry that Perpetua is thriving and content with her own life despite not looking a certain way while Bridget has been trying to get down to 110 lbs since she was a teenager and has been backing out of rooms after getting laid so the menfolk wouldn’t notice her behind isn’t scrawny (what would she think of Kim Kardashian’s or Nicki Minaj’s behinds?). Bridget, who poured energy into fitting an ideal of an adult woman, is miserable while Perpetua, who isn’t the “ideal woman”, is successful.

There is also some egocentrism on Bridget’s part: she is a heroine of a rom com so the story centers on her, with her friends being mere satellites. There has been a tradition of the fat best friend who exists to support the leading lady or gent who will fall in love while the fat person gets to sass and serve as cheerleader, with no insight on their inner life. Especially if they are Black. Tee Noir noted that most of the funny fat friends tend to be more engaging and likable or just plain compelling than the conventionally attractive main character, but their characterization is often neglected, to the point of sometimes even lacking a last name. In fact society, and even fat people, are internalized towards thinking that if you don’t fit the standard of desirability (thin, white, young-ish, cis, wealthy), you have to settle for less in your relationships and in entitlements, like how Annie in Shrill goes out with a boy who is too mediocre for her, all because she got the message that a fat girl like her shouldn’t expect a hunk or even a guy who is going to treat her decently and see her as a goddess. The show centered on Annie bringing out her inner fat bitch. Bridget hears constantly from her smug married male pals that women of a certain age shouldn’t be too picky because they aren’t as attractive and fertile as younger women (ring, ring, I am calling Tarana Burke on their asses, can I be the hype man?) and that triggers her insecurities about being single and 130 something pounds. Perpetua, who is a bit older than Bridget, medically overweight, single (but with a boyfriend) and less conventionally attractive than her...and is thriving in her life with no rush to the altar and she is free to voice demands in her relationship. I guess Bridget isn’t as nice as we were supposed to think she is, no shade, but be upfront about it Bridget (or writers).

But I can go easy on our hapless blonde, because Bridget (and probably Perpetua) internalized the notion that fat is disgusting and that women who aren’t thin enough have to shrink themselves and blend in, not causing waves. Perpetua lets us in on some hints that perhaps she is jealous of Bridget’s looks and figure, referring to her as having a “bony arse” for one, but it’s not a driving trait of her character. In her seminal book on female Baby Boom pop culture history, Where the Girls Are: Growing Up Female with the Mass Media, she noted that from a young age women were encouraged to see other women as competition, and if one woman is victorious in one area, we are defeated “And we had grown up with a notion of a female hierarchy in which some women---the Waspy, wealthy, young, and beautiful---were at the top of the pyramid and other women---the poor, the dark-skinned, the ugly, the old, the fat---were at the bottom and this is something that advertising (a source that sells Perpetua her image of wealth and sells Bridget’s insecurities) capitalizes on. Media in the 1970s have even applied the same dichotomy to some feminists where Germaine Greer (before she was all TERFy) and Gloria Steinem were held up as exceptions to the stereotype of ugly, nagging, and/or mannish feminists (something that Betty Freidan, Kate Millet, and the OG Bella Abzug got slapped with). It’s the ugly side affect of individualism.

One can hope that Bridget got the shameless and joyful spirit of that little girl who ran around the paddling pool in her underwear back.

Who’s Afraid of “Fat ass old bags”?: Backlash against non-insecure women

“Do what you feel in your heart to be right – for you'll be criticized anyway.” Eleanor Roosevelt

Let’s be clear: arrogance isn’t confidence. I use the term “non-insecure” as an umbrella term for Perpetua and for confident women who have faced backlash for their lack of willingness to act like they are less than to appease the patriarchy. But...men get to be arrogant and admired for their drive and accomplishments, hell they don’t even have to accomplish much unless you count bankruptcies (look at who is President of the United States at the time of this writing). So why do women who act arrogantly, aggressively, cut throat, authoritative, or just plain assert their needs and personal boundaries are so vilified? So I will try to look for how we could all learn to be confident as Perpetua.

Ever since Peggy Olson was promoted to Junior Copywriter, and even before, women in the workplace have been scrutinized from the secretarial pool to even top positions as CEO or junior partner. Like McCann-Erickson in the final season of Mad Men, Pemberley Press is something of a toxic workplace where underlings fight to get noticed for their achievements in dull lighting, men like Daniel Cleaver and Mr. Fitzherbert (more like Tits Pervert, right Bridget?) feel free to sexually harass women who haven’t developed the skills to defend themselves and demand respect, and where the characters we are closest to, don’t really like her. Women in power tend to confuse a white cis male hierarchy with a pecking order where the men try to undermine her authority either because they find her too attractive or make her feel unattractive, sometimes other women would undermine women because their success threatens their own self-image as women. A toxic workplace can also be why Bridget cannot excel at the work she does (she jumps from one toxic workplace to another in the movie); this can also be why Perpetua comes off as a hardass, she has to put up a shield to protect herself and the years working at Pemberley Press have hardened her to the point where Bridget couldn’t relate to her.

Bridget, according to Daniel Cleaver and the viewers of the films, is likable while Perpetua is not. Bridget is very feminine, sexy, witty, self-deprecating, supportive, warm, and non-intimidating while Perpetua may be feminine (look at them pearls and long hair), she isn’t conventionally attractive as Bridget and her size and age have kept her out of the “sexy box” and while Perpetua is clever, the woman doesn’t ease her way into conversations at parties like Bridget pretty much demanding to be introduced and included in them and she walks with the ease and assumption that she belongs everywhere she goes. Perpetua just also isn’t cuddly, but men get to be aloof like Mark to the point of being insulting or irreverent like Daniel to the point of toxicity, why is Perpetua being judged so harshly for traits that we see in these two high-status men? Forbes magazine once quoted that women are affected by two types of bias at work: prescriptive and descriptive bias.

Descriptive bias is the labels we attach and associate with certain social groups and communities, and prescriptive bias is how they are expected to behave. And, when someone does not conform to these prescribed roles and behaviors they can be penalized or punished. Women, for instance, are traditionally expected to be caring, warm, deferential, emotional, sensitive, and so on, and men are expected to be assertive, rational, competent and objective. So, when it comes to promotion, these traits are sometimes automatically prescribed to people as per their gender without detailed information about their personalities, thereby a man, in general, is assumed to be a better fit as a leader.

The other side of this is prescriptive bias is when a woman does not fit the role that is traditionally assigned to her and attempts to claim a traditionally male position is seen as breaking the norm. So, when a woman is decisive, she might be perceived as "brusque" and "abrupt". Therefore, for the same kind of leadership behavior, women might be penalized while a man is commended.

Women who are traditionally feminine (passive, self-effacing, caring), are considered “likable” but not leadership material while women who display traditionally masculine traits (assertiveness, self-preservation, ambition) are considered ball-busters. Both women are less likely to get promoted because of both bias, while what’s “bossy” or, sometimes, “hysterical” for women, get’s men promoted (*cough* Brett Kavanaugh crying that he likes beer *cough*). Women who help out at work aren’t seen for what those caring and proactive qualities can benefit the workplace, it’s expected that a woman would be so domestic. Even female candidates for Head of State are subjected to the tyranny of likability....for a position where the focus has to be on achieving safety and stability for a nation, even if no one likes them, a position that will be decisive no matter what they do. The work can be done by women supporting one another and both genders checking their biases at the door. Men can call out another man for describing their appropriately authoritative female boss as a “bitch” and women can examine why other women demanding more in their relationships or being promiscuous is so threatening to them. Women can even decide who takes turns at office domestic tasks like making coffee and getting birthday cards signed, making it a universal effort by the work site and network with each other as they celebrate each other’s triumphs and different traits.

Bridget’s passivity doesn’t help her in being taken seriously at work by her male peers either. Whereas Perpetua is disparaged for being older, heavier, and less conventionally attractive as she is criticized for being authoritative, Bridget is reduced to her sex appeal by Daniel to her face and even described as “fannying about with the press releases” (hearing about this treatment incenses Perpetua to Bridget’s side), thereby reducing Bridget’s femininity into something frivolous and not a endearing trait that helps her navigate the world. Bridget has proved in a deleted scene that she can give a brilliant advertising pitch for a horror novel, sadly the assignment was for a children’s book but it was maddening that the men wouldn’t give Bridget that credit (watch it, I can see Peggy Olson smiling somewhere). Bridget is also hampered by what is called “Imposter Syndrome”: according to Wikipedia, it “is a psychological pattern in which an individual doubts their skills, talents or accomplishments and has a persistent internalized fear of being exposed as a 'fraud'” despite have external skills and a number of accomplishments. Aside from her own appearance, Bridget puts her own abilities and intellect down, and it’s no surprise as how her society puts an emphasis on the physical appearance of women: “If you've grown up with messages that you're only valued for your looks and your body, not your skills or intelligence, you may end up getting a certain job or position and wondering whether you truly deserve it or if the hiring manager just thought you were a pretty face”, said clinical psychologist Emily Hu for the BBC (not to mention it’s much harder for women of color who deal with their cultural expectations and prejudice from a white supremacist patriarchy). Bridget’s own outrageous mother hasn’t passed down her bolder traits to her daughter and often makes Bridget feel small as she berates her for “not getting your colours done” or being unmarried.

In a world where tomboys and girly girls are pitted against each other, what would have happened if Perpetua and Bridget have let go of their preconceived notions of one another? Perpetua does seem to see Bridget as more than “blonde hair and big boobs”. It’s worth seeing that when the Bustle wrote about how to combat workplace misogyny, that they emphasized how important it was to support other women in the workplace as Perpetua did for Bridget at the last minute, alongside feeling free to disagree with men and demand a raise. Once again I want to note, Bridget and Perpetua are both white cis able-bodied women from upper-middle class backgrounds, so if their professional journey is fraught just imagine what it’s like for women of color.

Tough Women

“You can stand me up at the gates of hell. But I won't back down.” I Won’t Back Down, Tom Petty

Bridget learns, as we all do, and like Perpetua might have done that if she wanted to overcome her issues, she really has to confront her own discomfort and take risks as she demands more from life. Perpetua is a tough woman: she doesn’t appear to soften, even when she is greeting Bridget or Mark Darcy, who she is impressed by and she seems to encourage Natasha’s efforts to snatch him up. Granted a woman like Perpetua probably learned she had to tough, if she wanted to make it in a male-dominated workspace, I would not be surprised if she had parents who instilled a sense of ambition and toughness in her from a young age, or like Megan from Bridesmaids, she had to deal with a childhood of bullying and took that pain to transform herself into a formidable character.

We also see from her confrontation with Daniel, she isn’t afraid to get harsh with a powerful man especially after she finds out that he has been using a female employee sexually and been denigrating her worth at the office.

We don’t know Perpetua’s physical prowess and she clearly prefers pearls to combat boots, but she does possess traits that are associated with men: logical mind, firm, self-reliant, witty, sharp-minded, a professional in a cutthroat environment, and is flawed while being formidable. Perpetua is strong, a Shonda Rhimes character that Rhimes herself hasn’t created. Sadly like most Tough Girls, she isn’t her own protagonist and is there as an accessory to the main character, the Trinity to The Matrix’s Neo and she is often the lone woman that Bridget interacts with at work. Tough Girls are counterparts to more “typical” women: traditionally feminine women who are softer and more emotional...Bridgets. One thing I want to note is that Bridget is the protagonist instead of a love interest but yet she stands alone as her friendships are not that positive and her relationship with her mother is strained. Like Ripley of the Alien series, Perpetua is the lone smart and strong woman who has to deal with a environment where no one else wants to listen to her and everyone is ruled by their emotions (or their libido). She is Joan Holloway, who weathers the misogynistic waters with her razor-sharp observations and commentary regarding the absurdities of the people who are around her, while not being afraid to command attention and others, even at the risk at not being truly liked but “admired”. Not a phony. Perpetua is a privileged woman but like I stated before, she dealt with a combination of body-shaming and misogyny that toughened her...but why should a woman be tough and hurt? We could have had a scene where Bridget encourages Perpetua to reveal her vulnerabilities and open up along with Perpetua pushing her to be more resilient over a spa day with face masks, pedicures, beer, Milk Trays, pizza, Terminator movies, and hair makeovers while discussing how to hide Uncle Geoffrey’s body.

Strong Independent Women

“The watch I'm wearin', I've bought it. The house I live in, I've bought it. The car. I'm driving, I've bought it. I depend on me, I depend on me.” Independent Women, Destiny’s Child

Imagine trying to reconcile feminist principles of not depending on male partners and rugged individualism that insists the opposite of what John Donne’s quote about how one person is a party of a larger community. You have the Strong Independent Woman, who is used by capitalism to sell feminism and face cream/Spanx/sanitary napkins/Wonderbras/lipstick, who needs no man (or interdependence) to thrive in a still misogynistic world. This misogynistic world also abhors the independence, self-assurance, self-reliance, and self-love of women who choose to follow their path. Meanwhile the non-mainstream feminist and environmental movement have pushed for a culture of interdependence and for a culture that doesn’t base one’s value on how much money or genius or beauty (or what have you) an individual possesses; Bella Abzug noted that “Our struggle today is not to have a female Einstein get appointed as an assistant professor. It is for a woman schlemiel to get as quickly promoted as a male schlemiel”.

But the image of the female individualist for one strong reason: women are still expected to perform the bulk of emotional and domestic labor while being paid less than their male peers for the same job, also because of ingrained sexism and perpetuated self-doubt, many women are still dependent on their spouses, parents, bosses, the opinions of others. It’s nice to see images of powerful, strong, often gorgeous women of wealth not have to depend on men for their worth or their livelihood. But we are flesh-and-blood human beings, not super beings or robots; even Perpetua shows some vulnerability when she refers to Bridget being a lot thinner than she and she is clearly looks crestfallen when she hears that Bridget has been belittled and used for her body by Daniel, we don’t hear much about her circle of friends in the movie aside from Natasha (in the book, she is friends with some same-minded women). Everyone needs an interdependent society of people supporting one another and helping each other grow.

Perpetua both upholds and subverts the tenets of the Independent Woman: she isn’t the supermodel-esque independent woman but Perpetua makes her own money and at lot of it, she dresses very well to project her authority in the workplace, she is bold, rejects the validation of male authority, and she isn’t afraid to be unlikable. She lives in a big city (because independent and single people don’t live in small towns or the suburbs *sarcasm*), presumably in her own spacious apartment or even a townhouse, she has found herself at some point before the story and has a strong sense of self, she works hard and has a strong sense of purpose because of her work ethic, and heaven help the dumbass that underestimates her or any other woman. She is a non-superpowered Carol Danvers: rather than waiting for someone to rescue her, she is quick to rescue herself from self-doubt or even rescue someone from injustice. She is noted to have a love interest, but she doesn’t revolve her world around him and is suggested to make demands for her needs in the relationship, showing she isn’t prone to fuckwittage as Bridget is (perhaps Perpetua learned to put a stop to that bullshit?). Of course because this is Bridget’s story, a woman who yearns for that fairytale ending of marriage, and this is a regressive, “post-feminist” (what sense does that make?) story, Perpetua isn’t a role model and is seen as a polar opposite to Bridget’s softness, ditziness, girliness, romanticism, and self-effacing persona.

I want to stop and say that I am so happy to be writing this essay in 2020, a year in which a large number of women (especially of color) have been elected to political office in record numbers with the Indian and Jamaican American Kamala Harris being elected as Vice President of the United States (and the first woman to do so). She is also independent enough to make her own money and develop her sense of self, along with a strong sense of agency and inter-dependent enough to credit the support and love she has from her blended family including her late mother. In fact the independent women of Broad City, Sex and the City, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Moana, Mulan, and GLOW (crossing self) all have inter-dependent systems of support and are one another’s family (hell even Bridget’s so-called friends are her “Urban Family”). I also want to say, it’s highly likely that Kamala was more a Perpetua and not a Bridget (or else she wouldn’t have been able to succeed like she has done in her career), thus her win as Vice President vindicates Perpetuas who have worked and lived before her.

Working Women Do’s and Don’ts

“You're just a step on the boss man's ladder. But you got dreams he'll never take away.” 9 to 5, Dolly Parton

As established, Perpetua is happily single (but also partnered), she fulfilled in material comforts, she is unafraid to confront men about their bullshit (she has a hard time trying to get Fitzherbert away, I bet), and she has high standards. To paraphrase Charlotte Pickles, to thrive where she works she has to “eat, breathe, and sweat self-esteem” and she does. This is something that Bridget lacks and something I feel Perpetua can help her with. Sadly we never got that chance: the gentle and feminine Bridget and the stern and neutral Perpetua bonding in a mutually beneficial kinship. I’m sure that Perpetua wishes she could talk back to men like Julia Sugarbaker of Designing Women and that her role models came after some viewings of Working Girl, Baby Boom, and Murphy Brown and perhaps by the privileged and successful men (and a few women) in her family. It must be said that despite being referred to and clearly existing, we never see Perpetua’s boyfriend and that’s because pop culture has long depicted women in managerial and supervisory positions as lonely, ice-cold, unfeminine, and hard. Meanwhile more feminine women like Bridget don’t get the respect that Perpetua has and demands, and Perpetua lacks Bridget’s likability (Bridget of the many men and one woman who fall in love with her). While I wouldn’t consider Perpetua to be politically progressive (she is a woman of privilege and Sloan Rangers are considered Tories) but she isn’t a woman who is willing to exploit others for her own bottom line (or the corner office). We do see that she is quick to defend Bridget from slut-shaming or having her worth denigrated by Daniel, which leads to a rare scene of comcaderie between her and Bridget. I get the sense that Perpetua isn’t merely interested in ruling the workplace, but she wants to change the workplace enough to be less toxic (getting rid of Daniel and Fitzherbert).

I can find some similarities to Perpetua in three fictional characters known for their drive in the workplace: Dr. Christina Yang (Grey’s Anatomy), Peggy Olson (Mad Men), and Princess Carolyn (Bojack Horseman). Christina Yang, like her creator Shonda Rhimes (if you are reading this Ms. Rhimes or someone writing or interning for her, please feel free to take ideas for a film or show about Perpetua, I need cheddar), is proudly childfree, dominant, blunt, up for a good time, and voraciously sexual and ambitious. Like Perpetua, she doesn’t aim to please others and very performative in her actions and words along with being caring and brusque (and snarky, especially about the terrifying Mr. Blobby). Also like Perpetua, Yang finds comcaderie with a bubbly young blonde who is sometimes reduced to her beauty (Izzy as played by Katherine Heigel) and tries to lift her girl friends up. While Perpetua has been working in a post Cold War publishing company, Peggy Olson is a young woman from Brooklyn working at a advertising agency in the 1960s, with different struggles from her more “sexier” counterpart (Joan is a more confident Bridget after all, and Peggy has some BJ traits). Peggy is also a trailblazer for assertive working women of today and paved the way for Perpetua across the pond, setting an example from the ground up (partly observing the men above her) when she wasn’t able to find much female role models that didn’t rely on their sexuality or follow a traditional path. Women during that time didn’t have reproductive freedom, equal pay (still, sigh), and working women were shamed for wanting to follow a different path. Peggy also deals with fatphobia in Season One (she was actually pregnant) and divorced herself from her sexuality temporarily (but she experiments with sex and drugs throughout the series). Like Peggy, Perpetua isn’t crippled by Don Draper’s self-loathing (Bridget) or lack of discipline (Daniel) and Perpetua had to learn to believe in herself rather than merely rely on the validation of others. Princess Carolyn is a pink, perky, girly girl cat but like Perpetua she has a relentless drive, is intelligent, hard-working, can sell something (a celebrity image or books), and knows how to positively influence certain people around her. All these women have lived by their own self-definitions and owned the struggles they endured to get ahead.

Can’t Be Tamed

Walter Stratford: Hello, Katarina. Make anyone cry today?

Katarina Stratford: Sadly, no. But it's only 4:30. 10 Things I Hate About You (1999)

Rom Coms (such as Bridget Jones’s Diary) have a nasty habit of wanting to tame, soften, tone down, settle down an independent woman with her strong mind, sharp tongue, active sex life, and own money to matrimony. Then we have heroines who are allowed to fly their freak flag and find their own tribe (or leading man). That is Kat Stratford, the teenage feminist protagonist of 10 Things I Hate About You, a girl that Perpetua would have been at that age if she were American with blonde, pretty privilege. After all Perpetua has been perceived by Bridget (a Bianca without wit or spine) as a “heinous bitch” as delivered by the fabulous Allison Janney; they are perceived as difficult women who rain down their parades with their truth and don’t suffer the foolishness of arrogant men. Such women are supposed to be tamed, which has several meanings. The negative being to “tone down” or “dominate”; an alternate definition has been offered by The Little Prince’s fox “to earn one’s trust”.

We don’t know if Perpetua has anyone, romantic or platonic, to complement her personality and balance her out as Natasha seems to have Perpetua’s negative traits. This is where she and Bridget could have developed a friendship, combining vulnerability and a disdain for the fickle opinions of others and keep from having to choose between love and career, between relationships and financial independence. We could have seen a closer relationship blossom over the story just as Bianca and Kat grow closer to one another in the film. Maybe Bridget demanding more from Mark at the end, telling him that just because he bought her a new diary it doesn’t mean that he can get away with walking away from her and that it makes up for how tight-assed he can be with Perpetua cheering her on and another scene where Bridget smiles and let’s Perpetua squees over something in excitement.

Like Kat, the Perpetuas can find their own tribes or mates.

Women of Privilege in Media

Rich bitches, girl bosses, sassy queens, matriarchs, as Christopher Rosa noted about these women (which includes Perpetua): "They're rude, they're loaded, and we love them for it.” In a world that hates empowered women, as bell hooks bluntly noted, these Regina Georges, Cheryl Blossoms, Alexis Carringtons, and Perpetuas take back that slur and wrap it up in designer couture and fabulous accessories with nary a hair out of place. They own the negative stereotypes and manicure it into an image of fearlessness. They reject the social pressures placed on women to be nice no matter what, likable, fade into the background, and talk themselves down. Rich bitches indulge themselves with no apology and wear their strengths as boldly as their statement jewelry. But what if you don’t want to be bitchy all the time, what if you want to channel that fierceness into something constructive?

#Girlboss is an atom and a half: traditionalists argue that she isn’t a proper “feminine” woman who loses out on heterosexual love and children (”true womanhood”) while many feminists argue that she simply advanced to a seat in the patriarchy and doesn’t give a damn about the little people below her enough to truly make positive changes. Pop Culture has four flavors of the this character, as noted by The Take: the Bitch Boss, the Pre Code Boss who acts the way we think women started acting like after 1968, the Feminine Boss, and the social media savvy Girlboss who starts companies with cutesy names like WAHAM or WEEMAN or GOOP and they are often white and conventionally attractive. The last flavor exploits feminist phrases while selling out to capitalism and patriarchy for women to buy more shit and willing to step on people’s heads while building her empire. Sometimes she’s Charlotte Pickles, a somewhat ruthless but loving mother and CEO who loves angora sweaters, is glued to her phone, and can effectively hit the roof of a overturned boat with her high heel. Perpetua may seem standoffish to care only about her bottom line or take on traditionally masculine traits like Ruth Chatterton in Female or Diane Keaton in Baby Boom, but she proves to be a Leslie Knope when she stands up for Bridget in a heated moment. Perpetua has no necessity for large pink letters or catchphrases to prove she is a powerful (and empowered) woman, she simply is. One can see Perpetua taking over Pemberley Press, first Daniel’s job and then ousting Fitzherbert and taking his position, thus ousting misogyny from that workplace and using her power to uplift more voices in writing.

Bridget and Perpetua, meet, Betty and Veronica (respectively). While the Bridget the Nice Girl avoids her issues (and Betty can be in danger of being subsumed by them), Veronica and Perpetua make their rules and are willing to break them. Like Perpetua, the teenage Veronica wears her posh prep clothes proudly with a string of pearls and headbands holding her shiny hair. Veronica is also confronting a system (and family legacy) that taints America and makes living so impossible for people who have no boots to pull the straps from and handicaps her to a pedestal. Perpetua seems to want her friend Natasha to snap up Mark Darcy (remember she knows nothing of Mark and Bridget) like Veronica in the CW reboot wanted Betty to do with Archie. Both want to work hard and be recognized for their merit, not wanting to depend solely on Daddy’s money, bucking long-standing patriarchal expectations of upper-class young women who were expected to marry a man from a similar class and have children to inherit the money. Perpetua and Veronica show a willingness to get down and dirty while being allies to their less privileged and/or more passive female comrades. They also wield their power to take down over-puffed authority figures who abuse their privilege and have attitude when a woman gets slut-shamed or otherwise mistreated. Remember Daniel and Mr. Titspervert, Perpetua’s specialty is ice.

Legally Blonde and Bridesmaids, etc.

Vivian Kensington. Elle Woods. Professor Stromwell. These women showcase an alternative where cold but supportive women befriend our plucky blonde protagonist in a Playboy bunny suit and a douchebag ex-boyfriend (before ending up with a lawyer who comes off as uptight). Legally Blonde gifted Elle camaraderie with these women while Perpetua was left at the wayside and Elle was given a circle of supportive friends while Bridget had friends who negged her and were a poor influence on her confidence. Where Delta Nu gave Elle their time to help her practice for the LSATS, Bridget’s friends openly wonder out loud that Mark Darcy said he likes Bridget as she is, ditziness and unfashionable (of the time) curves and non-airbrushed looks (really?). We also see Elle add more people to her friend circle, like the working-class Paulette who proves to be mutually supportive of Elle and has been empowered by her to stand up to her ex and then we focus on two women who stand in for Perpetua: the steely Professor Stromwell ( the Mrs. Sarah Paulson, Holland Taylor) and the preppy Vivian Kensington (Selma Blair, la diva). Vivian and Elle start out as rivals for the handsome but douchey Warner Huntington III, who categorizes these women as the wife material Jackie and the fun and hot-tubbing Marilyn, but slowly upon finding out that their professor is a sexist who demands his young interns get him coffee and that Warner lacks Elle’s integrity find some common ground. Vivian is horrified and takes back her previous behavior upon hearing that their professor has sexually harassed Elle, reducing this intelligent and savvy young woman to her sex appeal. Also Professor Stromwell puts Elle on the spot on her first day of classes at and has a reputation for making her students sob, but it’s implied that Stromwell sees a bit of herself in Elle and wants this young woman to succeed and that means challenging her to do the hard work in Harvard. In the climax of the film, when Elle discusses quitting Harvard because of people undervaluing her intellect and being sexually harassed as a final straw, Stromwell turns around in her salon chair and tells Elle: “If you let one male prick ruin your life, you’re not the girl I thought you were.” Stromwell gets credit in Elle’s valedictorian speech at the end of the film. We see here that while Elle upholds girliness and finds new love in a established lawyer, unlike Bridget she has a support system of women (and a few men) who encourage her to kick ass and challenge the perceptions of others and celebrate her triumph in defending someone from a life-altering sentence.

I feel that in 2001, either Annie Mumulo or Kristen Wiig watched BJD and found the relationship between Bridget and Megan wanting as well as I did, this likely spurred them into writing Bridesmaids, a film that centered on women fighting over a best friend rather than a man, where the male love interest listened to the protagonist vent about her friend issues, and where an overweight and unconventional female secondary character pushes our insecure everywoman protagonist to start fighting for her goals and her sense of self, or rather her “shitty life”. Annie (Kirsten Wiig) is a former owner of a bakery that fell victim to the 2008 recession who is hitting rock bottom as her childhood best friend gets engaged and starts befriending her fiancee’s boss’s preened to perfection wife Helen (Rose Byrne) and then finds comfort and motivation in the form of the fiancee’s wacky sister Megan (Melissa McCarthy). Annie gets loonier as the movie goes on (ahem) until Megan persuades her to channel that spirit more constructively; Megan is proud of her hard-earned achievements and is confident but also kind enough to adopt several puppies and see Annie at her lowest. Megan earns her own money and demands more from her relationships than the other women in the movie (unhappy marriages, lack of communication, lack of trust) and emboldens Annie to grab life by the horns, thus starting a new friendship. It’s notable that this film is about post-college aged adults and the role of friendships in their lives.

Perpetua’s Potential

The 2010s have shown more narratives that focused on women’s relationships with one another and have even re-defined what “happily ever after” looks like and as a result of the #MeToo and #TimesUp Movements, women have examined how toxic their culture is to women and finding that the harassment and assault of women to be terrifyingly normalized and it has been for a long time. Millennial and Gen Z women have even questioned the issue of pitting women against each other, one of which is the “not like other girls” attitude that pits the cool babe or the weird girl against the high-maintenance girly girls that easily conform to society (even rewriting these types as friends or lovers to one another).

So what does that mean for Bridget Jones’s Diary? Well we could see a B Plot on Mark Darcy and his divorce from his Japanese ex-wife and she’d be given her own inner life and complexities, Perpetua might have to reconcile her relationship with Bridget and Natasha (the latter who is hostile to the former), we could see Perpetua strike up a friendship with her polar opposite Bridget and the narrative could focus on Bridget helping Perpetua open up her softer side while Perpetua gives Bridget the encouragement to stand up to her (admittedly) trashy family and friends and demand more from her relationship with Mark (or even dump him). We can even see them include Rebecca Gillies, the beautiful trust fund baby that works for Mark and finds Bridget to be desirable as she is (without being backhanded about it Mark!). We can see Bridget become stronger as she has one friend who challenges her to be better and another friend who finds her supremely wonderful and gets her to see it.

Maybe we can see Uncle G die, a girl can dream.

The Rise of the Perpetuas or what happened after Bridget drank some of Perpetua’s Juice

#MeToo, #TimesUp, #BossBitch, Lizzo, Ariana Grande, Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, Beyonce, Hillary Clinton, Alexandra Ocasio-Cortez, Ilhan Omar, the Notorious (and late) Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Jacinda Ardern, Michelle Obama, Jameela Jamil, Mindy Kaling, Tiffany Ferg, Kimberly Nicole Foster, Dahvi Waller, Gretchen Whitmer, #BlackGirlsAreMagic, Mothers of the Movement, CaShawn Thompson, Intersectional Feminism, Black Feminism, Mad Men, Mrs. America, Insecure, The Baby Sitters Club, Amy Schumer, GLOW, Emma Gonzalez, Candice Carty Williams, Malala Yousafzai, Kamala Harris, Meghan Markle...all of them have grappled with issues like Bridget and Perpetua and have even expanded the conversation about women’s day to day lives and the small (and large) ways society is misogynistic and have gone further to question why it’s so commonplace. We even see a talk about body neutrality (as opposed to the sanitized body positivity), which one can easily see Perpetua practicing. We also see women being held up in social media as being “stanned” for being difficult, wonderful, achievement oriented, sassy, fierce, outspoken, demanding, and fashionable...all things that Perpetua was put down for.

“I just took a DNA test, turns out I'm 100% that bitch

Even when I'm crying crazy

Yeah, I got boy problems, that's the human in me

Bling bling, then I solve 'em, that's the goddess in me” Truth Hurts, Lizzo

To paraphrase Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?: All this time, they could have been friends.

The year 2020 has been a dismal year for women’s careers as women are swamped with the demands of domestic life and bosses have shown that they won’t cut their employees slack for having kids in the background. People even explored how the pandemic has revealed cracks in society from economic disparity, how women are ultimately shouldered with the burdens of home that men aren’t expected to, how vulnerable marginalized communities are in systems with poor health care and systemic bigotry, and the lack of a social safety net. These are challenges I see Gen X, Millennial, and Gen Z women pushing back against (I will show up, pussy hat and mask on my person). One can even see Bridget, the ex Mrs. Darcy, Perpetua, and Rebecca marching in their Women’s March or even the global Black Lives Matter marches as they cheer on (or help) “tipped” over statues of colonizers and slave traders. We’d even see them attend virtual seminars on how to be better allies to BIPOC and listen as ex Mrs. Darcy talked about her difficulties as a East Asian woman in a predominantly white society and Bridget promising to call out her mother for her racist comments. There’d be no good woman/bad-woman dichotomy being perpetuated as they embrace each other’s differences.

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