#in the actual dream i mistook her for a male the whole time. but if it's an alien it doesn't really matter anyway | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilnasxvevo · 3 years

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Voice update: “How Is July Already Over” by Matthew Connor is still too low for me to sing. I suspect that Matthew Connor is probably a baritone and Tommy Siegel, the Jukebox the Ghost member who sings “Say When,” is almost certainly a tenor, since I can’t remember a time I’ve ever heard him sing noticeably above or below the tenor range. That’s fine! All I’ve ever wanted is to be a true tenor, one who can actually hit every single note in the tenor range.

Story time to maybe illustrate why this is so important to me and why I keep bringing this up:

Brief brief life story: Singing has always been important to me. I was in kids’ choir my entire childhood and did choir in high school, I took voice lessons from ages 11 to 18, I took drama camps in the summer for camps that did musicals, I never once missed the chance to be in a school musical, ET FUCKING CETERA. Singing makes me happy, and I’m good at it.

In 2015, I fulfilled my dream of being cast in my favorite musical, “A Man of No Importance”—this goal was so important to me and the musical so rarely put on by anyone that I’m not gonna lie, I partially based my college choice on the fact that I knew this college was going to be putting on this musical my freshman year when I chose to go there was definitely a factor in my choice of school. So I got cast. And I was just a freshman so I got cast in a smallish role of a character named Ernest Lally.

But Ernest gets a solo! He gets a whole verse to himself in a song called “Art.”

They knew my vocal range when they cast me—they had tested my range at the audition and marked down my highest and lowest notes.

But the first time I tried to sing Ernest’s solo at a rehearsal, it was too low for me. Way too low. The whole cast and the director and music director watched me as, face burning with embarrassment bordering on humiliation, I stood on the stage and tried to sing but only quiet croaky noises came out, not because I was shy or anything but because of the physical limitations of my vocal cords. I had received such amazing and unconditional acceptance of my gender identity at college and in that moment I felt like a fucking fraud. How could I expect anyone to consider me a man when I couldn’t even hit the lowest notes of the highest male vocal range? (I checked later—they were tenor notes.)

After an awkward moment of deliberation between the two directors, the music director took pity on me (or so it felt at the time) and said; “Do you want to sing it up an octave?” I gratefully accepted and she had me sing it again up an octave. I believe that the solo was still in the tenor range, but I never forgot how invalidating it was to not be able to hit those notes in front of ~15 pitying cis people.

And really, just singing along to my favorite songs by myself, there is a little pang of dysphoria and sadness every time I have to stop singing or briefly pop up an octave to continue singing along when a male singer hits notes that I know are not really that low—it’s just that my voice is not low enough to hit them.

So, this—I mean, I’ll have to check with a tuner app later, but I might now have access to the entire tenor range, and if I’m not quite there yet I at least can now hit notes that were impossible for me six months ago. I wanna guess I’ve gained at least three whole notes at the bottom of my range.

I haven’t been in a play or musical since my freshman year of college. One big reason why has been dysphoria—I don’t have any illusions about how my singing and speaking voice sounds, and I couldn’t bear the knowledge that most audience members would think I was a woman in drag unless they bothered to look at the program, and many people who looked at the program and matched my bio to the correct person onstage would, you know, think stinky transphobic thoughts about me or else be embarrassed and pitying and guilty that they mistook me for a woman in drag.

I know what I sound like, so don’t tell me that people would think I was a male actor from seeing me perform. When I answer the phone and people are expecting a man, they get confused. In 2019 I had a hiring manager tell me rather insensitively that she thought my phone had been answered by my girlfriend or something before realizing it was me. I had taken special care to pitch my voice down and speak from my chest when I took her call, and I was crushed by this casual admission. This is not the only time this has happened but it stands out the most.

So yeah. I probably get more dysphoria over my voice than anything else because the only way I can hide it is by staying silent, and I’m a loudmouth chatterbox who loves singing, so just not using my voice is not a fucking option for me.

So I’m really happy. I’m really, really happy.

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diamondcamefromhell · 4 years

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Timeless love

Jaskier x female reader series part 3

[PART 1] ; [PART 2]

Summary: This is an AU, where Y/N is a young woman, trying to make ends meet with her freelancing writing job. She lives in her small Nottingham studio apartment along with her cat Apollo. Things change when one evening as she is waiting for her taxi, she meets what she thinks is Joey Batey, but the man in front of her is convinced he’s Jaskier, a character from her current favorite show. Y/N now has to figure out what to do.

Warnings: Swearing, vomit, alcoholism and alcohol-related borderline abuse

Word count: 2,251

NOTE:

This part has some heavier stuff than any other work Ive written, so please, proceed with caution for your own sake. nothing too graphic happens, but still want to make sure you know that it does have a certain character that could be triggering to some. he wont be a dominant feature in all parts, but i feel it’s important for Jaskier to interact with people like that, as he continues to learn about our world.

hope you enjoy this part nonetheless. feedback, as always, is greatly appreciated <3 [im really nervous to see what yall think]

I don’t know when, but I managed to get some sleep. Not much, as it was just 7 am when Apollo started meowing and jumping on me, asking to be fed. I sit up, my gaze immediately going to the coach, where Jaskier seemed to be sleeping soundly.

I crawl out of the bed, going to the kitchen, where I see lute back by the fridge. He eventually put it down last night. I wonder how long did it take for him to fall asleep. I sigh, as quietly as possible pouring some food for my cat, who purrs as a thank you.

I stare out the window, as cars start going up and down the street. The town is waking up. I tiptoe around my apartment to go get my laptop from the coffee table. I am surprised Jaskier didn’t ask about it last night. But then again, he didn’t know most of the things in my apartment, he probably was overwhelmed.

I go back to my bed, opening and booting up my old friend. As I enter the password, I am greeted with a picture of him and Geralt on that rock, at the end of episode 6. I loved that whole scene so much. I stare at it, not believing the same bard is sleeping on my coach. I know better, so I change the picture to one of the default ones.

I open chrome, exiting the youtube page that has his song on it. He is not ready for that.

Or maybe I wasn’t. But it didn’t matter.

I go to email, checking for work. I have a few requests, and I decide it’s best to get some work done before Jaskier wakes up and we have to have more awkward conversations. I manage to write two articles, and then he awakens.

His face, for a second, is full of confusion, but then he seems to remember where he is. Now, his expression grows sad. I know he probably wished this were just a nightmare. I know he wished to wake up, back home. With Geralt and even Yennefer. But instead he got me and Apollo, who was already jumping on the coach, greeting Jaskier.

“So that wasn’t a dream,” he murmurs, but I catch it. I close my laptop.

“I’m afraid not.” I respond, as he looks at me, his expression still cold. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, what can you do.” He forces a smile, which I don’t really like, but I decide it’s best not to comment on that. Instead, I nod.

“I wish I could do something. Anyway,” I clear my throat. “Are you up to trying something new?”

“Depends on what it is.” Jaskier perks up, his clouded gaze clearing a little.

“Dirty beans.” I say, jumping out of my bed, I smirk at him. “Or as people call it – coffee.”

“I think I will pass on dirty beans.” He frowns and I giggle.

“You will not.” I say, as he smiles, just a little. And I know it’s genuine. A little hope in these dark times.

I go turn on my coffee maker, putting in the capsule. I decide to make him a latte, nothing too strong. I make myself giggle, when I realize he may be lactose intolerant. I guess we will find out. I stare at him, and decide to add two sugars.

For myself, however, I go black, with one sugar. I need the energy, as I feel absolutely exhausted. I take the drinks, giving him his cup. He sniffs the drink, taking a sip. I don’t sit down, closely watching his reaction.

He doesn’t frown, and actually looks pleasantly surprised. Smile curls his lips, and I catch myself smiling too.

“Glad you like my dirty beans.” I say, finally sitting down, sipping my own. The bitter taste hits my taste buds, waking me up in an instant.

“It’s nice. Thank you.” I smile.

“You are welcome, Jaskier.” I say, leaning back on the couch. “Let me know if you are hungry, I will cook something.”

“I will, thanks.” I glance at him, realizing how surreal it is. Yet we both seem calm.

“Then we might need to go out. Try to see if we can find something around here.” I feel anxiety rush over me. “It’s best if we do it in a day too. Safer.”

“What will we look for?” I shrug, closing my eyes.

“We’ll see it when we find it.” I look at his attire now. “However, you will have to change.”

“Sorry, I didn’t pack anything.” He says, smirking, and I feel a wave of ease wash over me. I am glad he is making jokes.

“I have some clothes that should fit you. I think.” He looks confused, nearly scared, so I continue. “Not my clothes, but I buy some for Dave, he sometimes needs them, because well… he doesn’t have that much.”

“Dave?” I cant read Jaskier’s tone, but he seems confused.

“He lives in the apartment in front of mine. We are… acquaintances at best.” Jaskier nods, as I place my coffee down.

I rush to my small wardrobe, going to the second drawer, where I keep clothes for Dave. Poor guy vomits on himself so often, and he doesn’t know how to wash clothes exactly. If they’re not too disgusting, I wash them, but I keep fresh ones at hand.

I get them at a thrift store, so most of them aren’t to fancy or anything.

I pull a pair of old black jeans, trying to imagine if Jaskier could fit in them. I think he should, but then again, I didn’t exactly examine how he looks that much. I’ve seen it for hours on tv. Dave is not a big man, and I thank my angels for that, as I pull a white shirt that should fit Jaskier too. I dig around to find a pink hoodie.

For a moment I think he wouldn’t wear it, but then I remember what he is wearing now and realize he probably would be fine with a bit of pink. I turn around, revealing his outfit, but Jaskier looks confused.

“Please tell me you know how to dress yourself.” I tease, and he laughs.

“I do, if you can’t tell, I dress nicely.” I chuckle, but don’t respond. “This is weird.”

“Just change.” I throw the clothes to him, and he starts undressing before my very own eyes. It takes me a moment for shock to pass away, before the blush rushes to my face. “In the bathroom for Christs sake!”

I point to the only other room in my apartment as the bard looks very confused. But one look at me, flustered and red sends the message, as he smirks, gathering his clothes and leaving the room. I fan my face with my hands.

Now I don’t meant to act like such a loser and fear seeing a man’s nipple. It’s just that I know I might have to stay with him for a couple more days, so it might make things weird. Also, I already had a crush on him, kinda, and I didn’t want to deepen it even more.

When he comes out, I am already seated, calmed down and drinking my coffee. I turn my face and immediately feel a wave of something rush over me. He looks so different. The pants are a bit big, I notice, but nothing a belt cant fix. The shirt, however, fits perfect, hugging his body. And the zip up hoodie ads a familiar pop of colour.

I feel my face become hot again.

“Verdict?” He asks, twirling around.

“You need a belt.” I say in one breath, rushing to get him the damn thing, before his pants fall off. Which, they nearly did already. When they are secure, I give one final look. “You look normal, so you’re good, I guess.”

“I don’t feel normal.” He says bitterly, and I sigh.

“I know, Jaskier. Not your usual attire, but this way, you will stand out less.” I stare at him, knowing there is a way bigger problem at hand.

He now literally looks like Joey Batey. An exact replica. And if someone, who has seen the hit show, sees him, it will be bad. I suddenly get a headache.

“We have a different problem. You look exactly like someone well known. That’s why I mistook you when I saw you last night.” I say, rubbing my temples.

“Who?” I sigh again.

“Joey. Joey Batey.” I grunt, closing my eyes. “If people recognize you as him, there might be… trouble.”

“Do townsfolk know him that well?” I glare at the man, but then I remember he seemingly knows nothing about my world. So I ease up.

“Yes. He’s like Geralt.” I compare. “The world just knows him. I guess we will have to stay close to home. And wear your hood up.”

I ignore my headache, chugging down my coffee, as Jaskier puts his hood up. He looks adorable, but I don’t say that, instead I nod, approving. I decide to go without breakfast, as the more I think about having to go outside, the more anxious I get.

And I am out of my medication, since I don’t like going to a doctor. I silently curse myself out, as we make our leave. The corridor still stinks, so I give Jaskier an apologetic glance, who in return gives me a soft smile. I feel a chill rush down my spine, when the door behind our backs open. I drop my keys, thankfully after I already locked the door.

I quickly pick them up, turning around to face my neighbour. Dave is staring at Jaskier, his eyes wide with surprise. He has never seen me bring a man home.

Dave is wearing grey joggers, with various stains on it. I notice some blood, but realize it’s best not to ask, not with Jaskier in the earshot. His shirt also clearly has dried vomit on it, and he oozes of vodka and something else. It makes me dizzy and sick.

I try to imagine what the bard is seeing. A frail, tiny white male. Bald, but with a black creepstache. Shaking uncontrollably. It must be so confusing. I want for us to get away, only then I notice Jaskier shielding me ever so slightly. My heart beats faster.

“Hello Dave.” I say through my teeth, stepping in front of Jaskier, so now I would shield him from the curious stare.

“Y/N, sweetheart. Didn’t know you had company.” He says, holding on his door frame, stabilizing himself. I force a smile.

“Yes, well. He’s a friend.” I say, stepping in front of ‘my friend’ more. Dave wasn’t generally violent, but he could get jealous and insecure from every male person who ever walked this earth. Let’s say he has a fragile ego.

“Introduce us, then!” He smiles, and I notice he’s missing his front tooth now. Poor man.

“I’d rather not, Dave.” I say, firmly, as he takes a step forward, using me as a stabilizer now. I want to step away, but I know it would cause a scene. And he wasn’t generally violent, but there instances.

“C’mon sweetheart.” He leans in, whispering. “Your friends are my friends.”

“I said no.” My voice comes out weak as the stench from his is making me feel dizzy. I feel like I am about to throw up.

“She has said no, Dave.” Jaskier speaks, startling me. I almost forgot he was there. He steadies me, as I didn’t even realize I was drifting back. Then I notice my hands shaking. I’m beginning to panic. Fuck.

“We are in a rush, Dave.” I deescalate the situation, as my neighbor was shooting daggers at Jaskier. “Next time, I will introduce you two.”

“Where are you going?” Dave steps back, but he grabs my upper hand. I get startled, squirming a little. That seems to tip off Jaskier.

“Let go.” He steps in front of me now, his voice firm. Dave, to my surprise, listens, letting me go immediately.

“You got yourself a good man, Y/N.” He says, laughing. He steps in his apartment, slamming the door. I lean on the wall, taking a couple deep breaths, which don’t help as it stinks in here.

“Are you okay?” I shake my head.

“I need fresh air.”

I practically jump down the stairs, and when I reach outside, I go around the corner to throw up. My stomach hurts.

Dave is usually kind. He rarely ever lays his hands on me, but whenever he does, it’s never nice. I wish Jaskier wasn’t there to witness this. I glance over my shoulder, to see his worried look, I straighten up, wiping my mouth.

“I’m fine.” I grunt, ignoring the fact that his gaze doesn’t change.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, a lady like you…” I lift my hand, annoyed. He get’s the hint, shutting up.

“In this world, Jaskier, I’m no lady.” I put my hair behind the ear, anxiously looking around. “Get used to that.”

“It’s not fair.” He argues, worry not leaving his face. I sigh, walking past him.

“The world isn’t fair.” I bitterly say, before taking a deep breath. I face Jaskier again. “Now let’s look for something that could help you.”

He knows this conversation is over, as I feel anxiety come back. I have no idea what to look for or where to even begin.

[PART 4]

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TAG LIST [if you wish to be added or removed from the tag list, lmk]

@ultracolorfulnerdcollection ; @viyamystic ; @sleepyblossom ; @killjoy-acid-crash

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tiergan-vashir · 5 years

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Hi. Just want to thank you for being open about your experiences. Seeing your posts is part of what made me think about whether I’m actually cis or not. Idk what to call myself because I never questioned myself until now, mostly because I’ve always been called a pretty girl (sorry that that sounds arrogant) and figured that’s what I should be. But recently I started thinking about things I did as a kid or even stories I wrote. And I realized that before I even I guess knew the pressures of (1/4)

Hey Anon! I’m going to put my response to you under a cut, because it’s quite long, but I hope it might help and be of some use to you on your journey with your gender.

I think the most useful thing a friend has ever told me when it came to gender is that “Cis people don’t really think about it.” Cis women don’t typically sit and yearn or dream of being a different gender, wearing a different gender’s clothes with a different gender’s body. If you’re worrying or even considering that the gender you were assigned at birth might not be the gender you truly are - I think that’s something worthy of giving some space and putting some time into in order to explore and discover the different parts of yourself.

If you do all that exploration and internal reflection and decide in the end, that you really are cis after all - then at least you reaffirmed it for yourself and maybe learned some new things about yourself along the way that can lead to greater creativity and self-expression. But if you realise you’re not cis, you can start walking down a path to even more self-acceptance and self-discovery.

When it comes to gender dysphoria and whether or not you may have it, I would say that sometimes people have set notions on what gender dysphoria is and completely miss that they’ve been experiencing it at all. There’s actually different types of gender dysphoria and different folks experience them in different ways (or not at all. For example, someone might feel physically dysphoric but not socially or vice versa). I would also try to look out for instances of gender euphoria, which can also be a telling sign.

In my personal experience, I didn’t know being nonbinary was an even option until just a few years ago. After that, I still doubted my gender, because when it came to dysphoria, literally all the stories I’d ever heard were ones where trans folks were so powerfully dysphoric that living life as their assigned birth gender was absolutely unbearable.

Because I’d never heard anything different, I thought that being in a constant, state of overwhelming suffering was mandatory part of the trans experience before you transition and that if you weren’t utterly miserable, depressed, or suicidal as a pre-transition trans person, it meant you were cis. Period. I had no idea at the time that dysphoria can actually come in different forms (social and physical) and can come in varying degrees of strength.

This youtube video is the best way I’ve ever heard someone describe how I personally also have experienced gender dysphoria, which is as an ever present ‘hum’. Background noise that is so constant that you start to not hear it anymore, because it’s always there. Being referred to by she/her pronouns didn’t really bug me (though that’s changed now if I can tell someone’s intentionally trying to misgender me). I don’t HATE my body. I just feel a little awkward about it and don’t really like looking at it all that much - but I thought that was kinda normal for anyone who wasn’t a super model. I hated most women’s clothing for most of my life, but I just kinda thought I just didn’t like fashion. I could live as a woman if I had to, even if I sometimes found myself wishing and dreaming (both figuratively and literally) I was a tall handsome man instead.

Meanwhile, just like that video above also describes: gender euphoria was like a bell. This bright, short-lived flash of happiness and joy. Every time someone referred to me as he/his OOC, I felt this burst of happiness and excitement. Every time I saw pictures online of androgynous people or women that could dress so masculinely people mistook them for men, I felt a joyful rush. (The Kpop singer Amber had me obsessed for weeks. I thought I had a crush on her, until I realised I straight up wished I could BE her, because so many people mistook her for a boy in a girl’s band.)

There were several times in the past where I low-key avoided telling people what my gender was IRL when I played as male characters in other games, because I wanted to spend just a little more time getting to enjoy people calling me by male pronouns OOC. And when I was a young teenager RPing male characters, I straight up lied to my RP buddy and told them I was a boy, crafting this whole other persona of this tall, handsome male version of myself. I liked being seen as a boy so much that I didn’t want to ruin the illusion of it.

Unfortunately, this backfired when this RP buddy and I became very close and they eventually wanted to visit me IRL. I spent hours trying on my brother’s clothes, and then burst into tears, because my body was all wrong and I just could not pass as male at all. It was the strongest gender dysphoria I’d ever felt in my life.

I feel like that should probably have been the moment I realised I wasn’t quite cis, but I didn’t even know what ‘transgender’ or ‘nonbinary’ was at that time. And even when I did learn it was a thing, living as a girl/woman wasn’t CONSTANT SUSTAINED SUFFERING to me, so the thought that I might not be cis didn’t even register.

It was instead the repeated, consistent bursts of gender euphoria over the years that eventually made me question myself and my gender. Noticing again and again how much more ecstatic and joyful I felt when seeing people who were visibly genderqueer or when people referred to me by he/him pronouns or just thought I was a man, really hit home.

Unfortunately, people don’t really talk about gender euphoria very much at all when it comes to the trans experience, just about the suffering. Even now, I still sometimes get hit with bursts of “but is it really enough? have I suffered enough to earn this label? Am I a ‘transtrender’?” Sometimes the joy and happiness at being gendered correctly is also a really good sign.

The funny thing is, once I realised I wasn’t a cis woman, I was able to re-examine traditionally feminine things see how I felt about them. Like I mentioned in another post, I used to HATE and feel frustrated by make-up. Now I love it and deeply enjoy it now that I feel like it’s about my own self-expression instead of me doing something because it’s what women are supposed to do. I discovered I love long, elaborate earrings and want to wear those things regularly While I generally prefer more androgynous clothing, there are a few very feminine pieces of clothing I really like (and some that make me so dysphoric I yeeted them into the trash).

On the flipside, I also found out I really, really fucking love suits and want to look and feel powerful in one. I want several masculine-cut vests, and ties as soon as I find ones I like that actually fit me. I love anything that minimizes the existence of my boobs and want to fine more masculine footwear (though that’s hard, because I have tiny feet). I tossed most of my bras out and replaced them with bralettes. And I love blending the masculine and feminine together. I was ecstatic when a friend told me that I achieved Peak Gender Confusion Inducement with my new haircut. Seeing Billly Porter in his gown + tuxedo jacket combo made my heart fucking sing.

I feel really free and empowered to be more myself than I have in a long time. And I hope, if anything else, your exploration helps you find that in yourself too regardless of what your gender winds up being in the end.

Hope this helps! Sorry this was so long.

#gender stuff #rl ramblings #gender #Anonymous

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alcalavicci · 4 years

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(Disclaimer: treat 1950s articles like they’re RPF/fanfiction. This is from 1960, but it still reads very much like a 50s article)

Photoplay Magazine- July 1960

WHY MILLIE PERKINS HAD TO SETTLE FOR A RUNAWAY MARRIAGE by Elaine Blake

When Millie Perkins and Dean Stockwell slipped off to Las Vegas for a secret marriage just before Easter Sunday, people in Hollywood didn't have the nerve to ask them, "But why the runaway? What's all the hush-hush about?" Hardly anyone knew them intimately enough to ask such personal questions. But they wondered plenty. For if Millie and Dean were older, or anyone of Hollywood's multi-divorced-and-married couples, you could more easily imagine them climbing into his three-year-old Chevy or her tiny English job and casually taking off for the Gretna Green Wedding Chapel in Vegas. But Millie and Dean are young! And though the newspaper stories were as brief and uninformative as this secretive couple themselves, you still read seven very romantic little words. "It was the first marriage for each." First marriage! To any girl that's a big-wedding dream woven of satin and lace, perfumed with flowers, set to organ music whispering in a hushed church till it swells triumphantly for a radiant bride and bridegroom. Mostly this is a girl's dream, a magic charm to keep romance alive forever. It's Her Day, her audience smiling and weeping just a little at the lovely vision coming down the aisle to meet her waiting bridegroom.

Millie had no part of the dream. You could understand Dean's not caring for it - many a male goes through the ordeal only because a girl loves a big wedding and he loves his girl. But Dean loves his girl, too. And wouldn't you expect a little girl from Fair Lawn, New Jersey, to want her family around when she says "I do" to the first love of her life? Why, then, did Millie Perkins, with a great big wonderful family - father and mother, four sisters and a brother - who could have made her wedding the most wonderful, exciting day in her life, settle for slipping off to a secret ceremony like a pair of runaways?

They drove up to Las Vegas just before eleven, that Good Friday morning. Millie was wearing a simple little blue dress. Everything about her is always tiny and unfancy, and her wedding outfit was no exception. But, for Millie, this was quite dressed up - a nice change from her eternal blouse-and-skirt-and-high-socks.

THEY WERE MR. AND MRS.

Their first stop was the Gretna Green, one of the many "marrying chapels" in Vegas and one of the nicest. They told the hostess, Mrs. Anderson, what they wanted in the way of a ceremony - a simple one, naturally. Then they headed immediately for the Clark County Courthouse to take out the license. A Las Vegas newspaperman just chanced by a stroke of luck - his - to be in the County Clerk's office. Hopefully, he followed Millie and Dean to the elevator, asking when and where they were getting married.

"No publicity," Dean said flatly. All further tries got the reporter nothing but a brush-off. What frustration! The only newspaperman on the scene and he was getting nowhere. He pleaded plaintively, "I wish you'd help me!" Dean shook his head, took Millie's arm and walked her away without another word.

Back at the Gretna Green, with the license, they found a minister summoned by the management, the Rev. Alan Robertson, pastor of the Church of Christ. The single-ring ceremony didn't take long. Millie

and Dean, alone with their love, seemed completely unaware that there were no attendants for a girl with four sisters, no best man for a boy with an older brother. No mother smiling through tears, no father choking down a lump.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," the minister said. They were Mr. and Mrs. Robert Dean Stockwell, looking into each other's eyes as they spoke a Beverly Hills address for the license to be forwarded to after it was duly recorded. Then, they left town - all this within a few hours. Nobody had seen the star of "Diary of Anne Frank" married to the star of "Compulsion" except a stranger, the chapel hostess.

Secrecy? Hollywood says that Millie's idol is Greta Garbo the Sphinx, and that Dean deals curtly with the press like HIS idol, Marlon Brando. Millie's studio got a taste of the same. All they knew about the marriage was what they read in the papers. Their frantic phone calls finally reached Millie after the weekend, and when they asked, pointblank, "Are you married?" she answered, "My personal life is my own."

But is a passion for privacy all that was back of the slip-away marriage? Hollywood thought not. People who wouldn't dream of asking either of them such an outright blunt question, immediately began asking each other more round-about ones. "Why do you suppose they had to run off like that, dodging reporters, and refusing to say if THEY DID or THEY DIDN'T marry?" For a while, there was even a revival of an old rumor - that this celebrated pair of "loners" were actually married more than half-a-year before, when a top movie columnist reported their secret union from "very reliable sources."

Now, this was all some people needed - Millie and Dean refusing to deny or confirm a new report of a new secret marriage - and the old one was stirred to life. Some began insisting, all over again, that they must have been husband and wife the whole time.

If all the uproar and theory doesn't seem to make sense, neither do most rumor binges in small towns where everybody knows everybody - except the rare handful who REFUSE to be known. Actually nothing could be simpler than to explain Millie's and Dean's kind of wedding, once you accept them not merely as two secretive people, but two highly individual ones.

"LITTLE PEOPLE"

Both are what Millie calls "little people" - meaning they make no pretenses and are sturdily against being pushed into any. And before they fell in love, each had a shattering capacity for loneliness. But right there is a nub of difference. For Dean has known, since childhood, what it is to be so apart from others and so hurt by the apartness that he'd die before he'd let it show. That's loneliness, from way back and deep down.

But Millie was never a hermit girl - not until she came to Hollywood. Home in Fair Lawn, in the tree-shaded house full of lively Perkinses, you couldn't be sad unless you worked at it. "A lot of living went on there" she recalls wistfully, "and I was always part of it." Her chief grief was peering into the mirror and deciding she was the one ugly Perkins. She still isn't sure the duckling has, as yet, made it to swan.

That's a tell-tale symptom. The ground isn't firm under Millie's feet because her big breaks came with luck, not the hard work she believes in. When she left the safe nest for New York, fashion modeling fell

into her lap - someone liked photos he saw of her. It spiraled. Twentieth Century-Fox talent scouts, searching the world for a girl to play Anne Frank, also liked Millie's face in a magazine. They chose her

over 10,000 applicants who wanted to be movie stars, when she didn't particularly want to be one. She came to Hollywood looking fourteen, indeed, in dark knee socks, a rumpled skirt and blouse. These are still her favorite kind of clothes - she's indignant when they're called her "Anne Frank costume."

But she came quivering with fear. She was an amateur, a worrier, the pros were watching for her to fall on her face. She never got over her dread of failure. She cried under pressure, she walked alone. But to those on the set who were patient and kind, she was sweetly courteous. Director George Stevens beame an ideal in the place of her papa, the Merchant Marine officer she used to greet rapturously after each sea trip when she was home. Dodie Heath, who became Millie's friend while both were in the "Anne Frank" cast, loved her for the gentleness that many mistook for weakness - till they found she couldn't be stepped on.

Dodie told a writer, "When Millie finds someone who understands her, she gets all excited." Prophetic words. For when she met Dean, they both found understanding. And this he had been groping for all his life. From then on they walked together. They shared the outdoors, on a sailboat, on horseback, anywhere away from people and night clubs. They sprawled in secluded grassy fields and read to each other. And they talked - about everything in both their worlds. Millie even confided how sad it was for a little girl to be an ugly duckling. She didn't care that girls never admit to ugliness, past, present or future.

Anyway, Dean topped her. He said, "It's worse to be such a pretty little boy that the kids you want to play with laugh in your face. You're different - a child actor, and that's a terrible thing to be!" At six, Dean was a stage veteran starting a film career in "Anchors Aweigh." He worked too hard and played too little, till at sixteen he'd completed high school and more than twenty pictures for M-G-M. Then he rebelled.

"I'm through with all this," he told his mother and older brother Guy. "I'm going to college. I don't know what I want to be - but I want to be something." A year at Berkeley, and the "apartness" got under his skin again. He felt he'd always be "that actor" or "that conceited ham." Restless, unfulfilled, he took off for anonymity. As "Rudy Stocker" he wandered to find himself. He did everything from lugging office mailsacks, in New York, to driving railroad spikes in Texas. After a few years, satisfied he could live by the sweat of hard labor, he came back - first to the New York stage, to co-star in "Compulsion," then to Hollywood. And eventually to meet and fall in love with Millie Perkins.

THEY'RE YOUNG - BUT WISE

The mixed-up rebel was a man now, and Millie saw this in him; leaned on him for strength. She worried with him, wept on him, laughed with him, shared his quiet times with music and books, his exciting times in the big outdoors. Dean had been close to other girls, but never one like Millie. He listened to her joys and troubles, comforted and praised her, poured out his own complicated heart to her - and never, never tried to change her.

"This is my girl," he introduced her at his birthday party, where she showed up in the same old kind of skirt and blouse - and the others were all so dressed! He kissed her and said, "My girl looks different from any other - because she IS different." He loves her exactly as she is and doesn't want to change her.

This is the all-accepting love that Millie never wrote her family back home about; they read it for themselves in the columns. Friends said then, "Millie isn't sure how the Perkinses will take it, they being Catholic and the boy Jewish." They described the pictured fragment of the Ten Commandments framed and hanging over Dean's fireplace, and the Torah, the Hebrew Law, among his books.

But if difference of religion finally prompted them to go off to Vegas, secretly, and be married by a Protestant pastor, that's only part of it. The whole story is that Millie and Dean have something together far more important to them then religion, family, career, anybody or anything.

They're young, but wise. They know love is something you can't describe in words that anybody but your own beloved will truly understand. And suppose, not understanding, your family or studio or friends disapprove? They can't stop you, not when you're of legal age. But to two sensitive people, criticism of their best, dearest treasure would be harsh as a rough finger bruising a petal.

No, say the few people who really know Millie Perkins and Dean Stockwell, they took no chances. They thought about how they felt toward each other, and decided it WAS their own and very precious. That was why they ran away - to protect their love.

SEE DEAN IN 20TH'S " SONS AND LOVERS."

-The End -

#stockwell sassies

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drrb-imagines · 5 years

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Nice to see drrb imagines blog, welcome! 2 things. 1. Is this voices or the Miwashiba version? Or both/neither? 2. Could you do something for Maiko and Saiji who are hoplessly crushing on each other, but none of them knows that the other one likes them back (prefferably voices canon or everyone lives au, but not necessary) and/or some bisexual! male! Ayumu imagines?

Hi! To answer your first question, we are doing both drrb-voices and the original drrb (Miwashiba’s version). Sorry, this took forever, I’ve had major writer’s block TT^TT. I’ll try to do the Ayumu one separately at a later time. If you want anything to be changed, please let me know!

Also, I added a tiny bit of angst (actually idk if it is angst since I never write it most of the time) and a reference to the first death and execution in the original version

-Mod Akira

Everyone around them knew about how they were obviously crushing on each other

And it was getting to the point where people were betting on who will confess first (Ayumu was the only one in their class that didn’t)

Saiji and Maiko both realized that they liked each ever since they went to one of the school dances as ‘friends’.

But both are too anxious to actually confess to the other

Saiji has a habit for staring at her in class, and would only look away once the teacher calls on him or when Maiko glances at him (when in reality Maiko was about to stare as well)

Despite being the Ultimate Dancer, she messes up when she begins to think about Saiji

Saiji had begun to take extra notes just in case Maiko needed them (Which she usually did)

They both get jealous a lot

At some point, when Ayumu and Saiji were talking and Saiji started blushing mid-conversation, Maiko mistook the situation, thinking that Ayumu was flirting with Saiji (when in reality, Ayumu just asked if he liked Maiko despite knowing the answer) and actually pulled Saiji back to her room, saying that they planned to study together (Saiji just went along with it)

Saiji usually doesn’t get jealous due to his calm and quiet nature, but if it’s obvious flirting, then he will get jealous

One time when Kego was complimenting Maiko’s appearance in a flirtatious way (Maiko being visibly uncomfortable), he actually wrapped his arm around her waist and said that they were just about to go to the cafe near the school

Kego just winked at him and went on his mary way

They actually both went to the cafe near the school just because

Though it was really awkward since they were both flustered the whole time

They both had a habit of turning a conversation into saying how much they thought the other was amazing

Mostly Saiji though

They often go out on dates as 'friends’

And give gifts to one another as 'friends’

And cuddle as 'friends’

Basically they do a bunch of things together that are usually considered to be romantic but they always tell themselves that it’s 'just a friend thing’

Honestly, everyone thought they would never end up together since they were just too oblivious

But, somehow, maybe fate, they ended up together

They ended up confessing when Maiko had gotten a nightmare

It was about her strangling and killing Saiji from behind, not knowing about how much she loved him until it was too late

And afterward, her body was hacked apart, the guilt of what she had done to Saiji still inside of her despite the pain she was going through

By the time she had died in the dream, Maiko woke up in tears and screamed, forgetting instantly that Saiji was sleeping over at her dorm

Saiji, who was actually not asleep at this point, immediately went to the crying Maiko’s side, rubbing her back in circles and asking her what was wrong

“I had a nightmare that- that I…k-killed you…and it was just- horrible!”

Maiko was just non-stop sobbing at this point, and Saiji was getting more and more worried

How could he get her to calm down at this rate?

Saiji did the first thing that came to mind

Which was kiss her

Maiko immediately stopped crying

And then finally after crushing one each other for the whole year, Saiji confessed

“I…I’ve liked- no- loved you for a while, and…”

He didn’t get to finish, because Maiko tackled him to the bed cuddled him until they both fell asleep

-Akira won over 500 dollars from the bet

((Didn’t know how to end it, so I just ended it with a cliche confession ^^; Sorry))

#Mod Akira #imagines #danganrebirth #drrb #dangan rebirth #maiko kagura #saiji rokudou

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marika-kurohime · 5 years

Text

Tales of Vesperia: “Yuri is The Morning Star “her” self as “she” should be” theory (11/26 complete)

First of all, sorry for BAD English here.

Previously I’ve tried to post this on youtube, but... here is the full version of it.

We all are confused at the moment by Tales of the Rays storyline and Vesperia’s postgame situation especially.

It's crazy for NO JOKE. Let's do this. If you're fine to think of Vesperia as something simple with yaoi/yuri ships - for now you can STILL do so, but

you have to see optional dungeons of this game: "Labyrinth of Memories" with Kratos Aurion in it and "the Necropolis of Nostalgia" (Patty got the key to start that VERY HARD and annoying dungeon (enter is in Zaude) which explains the whole "Сhildren of the Full Moon" thing and this world's past), open up all the skits and so on... It'll rise A LOT of questions, believe me.

This is where you can read this

I'm NOT fine with yaoi/yuri ships and there seems to be the one and only RIGHT way to understand all this mess, but it's crazy.

I don't want to write the theory before we have at least some facts, So, I'll only warn you for now that:

1)Yuri is with Raven ALL THE TIME in ALL worlds: Link, Asteria (chapter 4), even Rays where we have Estelle with us... you will read something... strange... (yeah... "strange" is a good word for it) between Yuri and RAVEN all the time.

2) It seems that Yuri and Rita have some sort of connection to Iria's and Luka's (Tales of Innocence) god-powers.

To sum this up: or this game is just plain and stupid or it has a different gender system. Think about this:

Rita's dresser scene, and also, how Yuri lived his life before and after his attempt to join the knights (some skits hinted this... and we got THIS dirty card of him for New Year)

I can't say any more right now, we all want some facts regarding, well, his gender, current behavior and his postgame relationship with Raven and Estelle,

BUT one thing for sure. HE IS NOTHING close to what you'll expect of him even if you ship him and Flynn together.

Maybe, from now on (Tales of The Rays arc 3) this line will be shown for the first time, I don't know... thanks to PXZ2 I'm afraid to know...

There is more to this. In his True Knight outfit,

he has pointy ears for some reason.

And to top it all: so-called fanservice in the Rays' special anime just killed me on the spot.

NO NORMAL explanation for THIS. He is not only nothing even close to a human (half-elves included) and can BE confused with a woman as with Leon (Tales of Destiny) and his sister (Leon is only 16 years old ), ALL NORMAL men see Yuri THIS way at his... well he is 21 at the beginning of the game and 22+ by the end.

No facts. They've been MESSING with us for two years before DE's worldwide release. And It gets waaaay more serious from now on...

JUST LOOK at...him(???) from the God Eater collaboration trailer...

No, no, no, I don’t think that I’m seeing things...

And so, to make a long story short: 360 version was incomplete (or "censored" by Namco themselves is a better way to say it) to the point when you can't get this story at all.

Are you sure you want to know more?... for a joke, it went tooooo far somewhere after we left Heracles,

but what I'm reading now... makes me split my tea and think of dropping it all for good because of Yuri and Yuri alone.

Tales of Asteria made it even worse. In chapter 4 we have 3 lines about returning memories to a person, who the character holds dear: Jude-Milla, Collette-Lloyd, AND Raven-Yuri...

guess which one was mature, tragic and romantic the most?

And he wasn't called Yuri in the title of his Chapter. It was something like: "The fate of the Morning Star". Just like in the at least two tracks from OST of the original game. This and that one too. And who the hell is this so-called Morning Star???

Well...

So... basically, the main character here is RAVEN.

And it's a story how he got himself our dear "hell of a goddess"

for a...

sorry... for a friggin substitute of his lost love

(and Yuri resembles her greatly to make it worse).

Tales of the Rays arc 2 was HELL of a read for me because of Yuri alone...

He is living with Raven, нe worried sick for Flynn's wellbeing,

he constantly shakes off Estelle on Rita...

FOR a friggin YEAR! Main Vesperia's story explains NOTHING

of what you really need to know.

You need to 100% clear this game only to get some dirty hints and a mind blow trying to put all this mess together.

If you know Japanese, then Drama CD's help as well.

Update: And yes, THIS was some anniversary to add the fuel to the fire. And as I feared, it is NOT only Asteria’s problem for sure.

So, we love Tales of Vesperia only because people do not bother to find out, what “VESPERia” means.

“Vesper” means Venus (or Astar/Astarte, Morning (male form - Anunit)/Evening Star) GODDESS OF LOVE and justice, yeah, yeah...

... and prostitution,

homosexual relationships and war and a lot more). Goddess, damn it...

Remember this statue at the Baction Shrine?...

Update: actually all this mess isn’t just about him being who he is, the main problem is THIS map

which is clearly our Mother Earth and not their Terca Lumieres AT ALL! Add to this what The Morning Star himself tried to say in Project X Zone 2:

Sooo... does it mean, that he got his reputation in our Earthly mythos simply living out his life to the fullest on some sort of “vacation trip” and is remembered by two names

(as Shamash and his twin sister Ishtar)? Daaaamn,

as if Judith’s novel wasn’t bad (I mean great) enough...

And now goes our final mythos based theory: Yuri isn't exactly a goddess, he is just a very high-ranked and powerful anunnaki. And he has THIS level of mental disorder separating Shamash

( light: True Knight in the heart, kindness (love), and justice)

“ His friend wasn't a knight, he was part of a guild. His friend didn't believe in "justice" and "virtue" but rather "resolution" and "morality". ” About Yuri from Flynn’s biography in the Tales of the Rays.

Although often cynical, he has a strong sense of justice and possesses an earnest desire to aid the weak and the powerless. (c) Crosspedia PXZ2 (2015)

and Ishtar...

sorry, not this one. Ishtar (Anunit, The Morning Star)

(dark: a whore to the bone, love (means sex) & war) parts of his personality. That means that both of "them" aren't whole and...

well, it’s better to stop here for now and see how bad our Dark Venus with a hero syndrome:

will be from the point when...

when “She” gets (regains?) “Her” full self-awareness...

*PXZ Project X Zone (sorry, spelled it wrong, but I’m too furious, you see, to check small details. I hate so much I even had to write all this about MY favorite MALE character I mistook “HER” for... to begin with. Hate the very thought people still didn’t know WHOSE Anniversary it is. If Namco wouldn’t give proper explanations, or they will be worse than what we can assume now... well, I did everything I could for HIM... before all the HELL this body really is for

breaks out. because It’s impossible to continue like this

and Yuri himself already understood that even Flynn saw him in a different light for all his life.

Update:

and with a new skill like that (by-the-books Lightbringer to me), it all will be confirmed/over in a few months at best.

Gods!

...this is not fun even for me anymore. I'm starting to pity "her" for real. DE isn't even a remake, you know...

It's PS3's remake but PS3 and 360 are NOT one and the same. What did we do to deserve this ten years after? (5 for me) ...Oh, what a mess.

It can only be compared with Estelle's new dress.

Screaming "dawn"+"bride" 100% Aya (as a silly child in her dreams to make it the worst situation possible for her for Aya has no info about her in the mythos so you can imagine on whom she is based on personality-wise from now on).

And the whole Namco's Universe is Unus Mundus based. This much is obvious from Anima&Animus + Ix's-zerom connection thing as they have shown it.

So... Vesperia's story so far (all with "probably" before every statement):

1) Something horrible happened to right-handed "HER" before he is shown left-handed 7 years old boy. (Luke and Schwann are both left-handed, Damuron, Raven, and Asch aren't).

2) Something horrible happened to HIM after the movie resulting in a second kinda split of what should be The MORNING part

into what I call Shamash and Anunit "twins". Damn.

3) Something truly horrible happened to "them" atop of Zaude for he has a blastia and that "survival" of his now....looks really fishy.

4) And a TOTAL SHIT happened in the end atop of Tarquaron. for "their"'s body is Istar's avatar kinda thing and we got that Brave Vesperia "star" smashed in pieces, so it is a spirit now... and you can imagine what we have in the Rays in addition to “them” (total four of them: Shamash for Estelle, Nergal for Judith, Ishtar for Flynn and Anat for Raven...

or even more) and “their” problems... This gonna be a once in a lifetime experience if our dear author is bold enough to drag ISTAR (Sirius star WOLF GOD) here to play the Fenrir's part not just our poor Anunit (Nanaiya) "girl" based on goddess Sakuya.

And what in the world was 360th Yuri then who earned 8.5. years of love, respect and admiration of the fans worldwide before Claw bitch in Asteria ruined EVERYTHING “he” сould for him? Who suffers so much from the mistreating he gets from everyone at their Dorms?

Hah... just a half of something really close to Luke's kind of existence

...without his own body.

This whole Rays "story" is a ONE BIG MESS meant to explain THIS.

AND this gonna hit really hard even those of us who are well prepared because Duke’s event and info from the near future were unexpected and crazy enough for me to get shocked despite all this lore digging. Then I did even more lore digging and dropped it all for good after chapter 9 of FR arc.

I just want to see how people will react if all the shit you just finished reading here about our favorite world and character

will be proven as even HALF-right in the near future as the story in the Rays progresses.

This still looks too simple for me. The real deal SURE is worse. I’m 100% positive only concept-wise mostly because of how he will look in GEREO’S world,

because he doesn’t look human at all and the symbols on his outfit are clearly Istar’s. I’m not bold enough to write how I think the real story will turn out...

, but our CONCEPT-based theory is enough for me to drop it all until it is over... and remember HIM

as he was AND by Shamash’s name only.

P.S. translated Rays’ screenshots are from Lol’s Youtube channel

#tales of asteria #tales of the rays #tales of vesperia #yuri lowell #tales of

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dcadlynv-blog · 7 years

Text

“Kids these days,” her mom used to say, before her family cut ties with her, when she was a sad, sullen teenage girl curled around the bluish glow of her computer screen. “All their friends are online.”

Isadora would just smile. Yep. Oh yeah, like a fuckload of friends, momma.

The truth: her computer was her best friend. However weird she was IRL, she was a badass on her laptop, staving off her loneliness by messing around online with websites. Two or three times a year, she would rebuild her perfect persona via blog posts--a trend-devouring monster months in the making, constructed out of aesthetic photographs and clothing that cost more than she made in tips waitressing at papa’s restaurant in a full year. She cobbled together her OOTDs in a cracked copy of Photoshop, posting her dream doodles online with the naive longing of a little girl.

The bulk of Isadora’s teenagedom was passed in solitude, wondering if the fake girl who wore the summer’s favorite YSL lipstick and drank skinny lattes spiked with vanilla vodka would have more friends than the empty little nothing parked on the couch. Or if the spiky punk-rock chick, in her sharp-edged bob haircut and leather jacket, would crush the kids who turned away from her at school under the heel of a Doc Martin. Or if the artsy coffee-stained hipster girl would just toss her stick-straight black hair over her flanneled shoulders and shrug. She thumbed the spacebar, wondering if any of those girls would fall asleep at the keyboard feeling whole.

Her obligatory degree, which she completed in good time like a good little sheep, is in computer science. She’s a software engineer, emphasis papa’s. He is very proud. Columbia is not a joke, everyone. She paid for it with a few whale-sized loans and a lot of scholarship money, and graduated as quick as fucking possible. She moved to New York City, picking up an internship and then a full-on job at a #ontrend app development company, turning out the latest in flat color must-haves for the season.

Papa, bless him, used to mention her modest success at any and every family gathering. From humble beginnings, Isadora. Do you have X app on your phone? No? You should get it, it’s very popular. Isadora is lead developer on it. Isadora, who got good grades, who got into a good school, who worked the bar all through school, who snagged the internship, who did everything right.

Oh? The family said, smiling, with the patience of the unimpressed. Her cousin Leo-great grades, great school, great everything--is a doctor. He’s helping people in the really raw parts of the world, all the stuff that makes the news. He’s doing God’s work down there. Bless him. What is it that Isadora does, again? But even if Leo was a schmuck, something weird that she’s always noticed about her family is that she makes even them a little uncomfortable. Her own blood.

And Isadora’s parents are aggressively normal. They own a Mexican restaurant and bar, where Isadora waitressed on and off through college, passing out platters of cheese enchiladas to the children of white suburban Long Island families and margaritas to drunk commuters on their way home. Sometimes she’d see it in people’s eyes--is this how you do it? Is this “authentic”? How am I going to fit in here? Should I even try? Is it worth it?

Weird how she saw that in her father, too, living in the US. Is this how you do it? Is this how you fit in here, out in America? Momma was Lebanese, not Latina, though because she looked vaguely “ethnic” people always tried talking Spanish at her. Isadora’s pretty certain that contributed the most to the uncomfortable gulf between her immediate family and her dad’s extended--not a wide gap, but, y’know, you still had to be aware of it.

But Isadora never felt close to them, nor her mother’s family, though they got a pass for the distance--they were somewhere else in the world entirely. Everyone else? Isadora believes she’s justified in saying she might as well have been on another planet.. She never had regular friends. She never had anything except her parents, for the most part--and then, when she joined the Sinners, not even that.

Wait--that’s not quite true. There was Luke.

The really shitty thing is, Isadora realizes now, is that the app industry really is fucking disgusting. It’s frivolous. Nothing taught Isadora the secrets of human nature like the relentless copying of the competition, that the dark heart of pop culture was to chase trends fast enough so that the it looked like the idea everyone had was actually yours. They used the users to generate crazy money. Most people, Isadora learned, have the same secret flaws, easily exploitable for profit. Driving the user base was more important than building the product.

In fact, you wanted to start with the flaw first, and build the product around that. And if you couldn’t find the appropriate flaw? You created it.

So now, of course, looking back--Isadora has to wonder what flaw was created in her. What made her feel so lonely and strange and weird that she thought the perfect life was something you could buy and put on like a dress.

Isadora used to have a fantasy, in high school and college. In the interest of full disclosure, this was pre-Church, pre-Deadly, pre-Envy, pre-everything that prompted that. Isadora’s last idle fantasy world was particularly pathetic. Even though she was learning to love the taste of making other people nervous, at the New York office where no one knew what to do with her and her “concept” outfits, sometimes she entertained little notions, little scenes. Someone would approach her. This vague shadow person would be unafraid. They would smile at her, maybe quirk an eyebrow at her bag or her killer heels. They’d say something catty but comebackable. Why not? She’d drop that comeback. They’d laugh, meet-cute style, and just like that--a lover. A friend. At least one person who wanted to talk to her. Something.

A bare two months into her employment at the app start-up, they did a big money party to impress the investors. Isadora was at the bar, in a red and white dress meant to invoke the Queen of Hearts--for LookingGlass, their latest project, might as well show solidarity, right, even if the app was maddeningly shitastic--when she asked the sleek young suit to hold her whiskey for her while she reapplied her lipstick.

Isadora doesn’t remember anything about the conversation immediately following. She first knew him as Mr. Caplan, from Caplan & Cross Investing Group. He’d just started appearing after that moment, at her elbow, all night, making sly observations over a vodka soda with the material she supplied to him. She remembers thinking to herself, once or twice that night, he’s little more interesting than the other copies. I like him a little better than the other men who are just like him. He pinned her, accurately, as the primary architect of LookingGlass’ code--which meant, he’d taken the time to compare her with her LinkedIn profile and decide that she wasn’t the marketing rep that everyone mistook her for.

For that show of courtesy, she invited him to an afterparty, an exclusive thing she was saving for herself later that evening as a special treat, a reward for playing so nice here. See what else he’d trot out to impress her. In the taxi, he asked her to call him Luke. She told him, sure; his request was in the queue. He laughed, looked down at his hands.

Later, week nine of their relationship, he confessed to her that he’d been drifting in her direction all night that night, staying nearby in case she happened to glance his way, in case divine providence gave him an opportunity. Isadora’s brow furrowed. Her lightning-quick brain stalled, rebooted. She reassembled the world according to this information.

“God,” he said. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t even see me.”

Isadora feels like she keeps sliding through different versions of herself, tossing the failures to the back of her closet with last season’s mishaps, looking for the winner. She doesn’t know when exactly she started living as her fantasies instead of through them, but she has a guess.

Day one in New York City, it was like this: she looked in the mirror and said, no, this isn’t what I want to look like. She looked at her calendar and said, no, this isn’t what I want to do. Isadora made tentative steps, then bolder ones. When someone held up a Team Sinner QR code for her to scan for more info, she’d already reshaped the skeleton of her worldview. The Church of Sinners was the muscle. Becoming Envy was the first beat of her brand new heart. She feels more alive than she ever did before.

Of course, it could always been improved.

Isadora’s secret weapon has always been her obsessive drive, her power, her ability to ford through onerous details and mental hardship to her goal. She dislikes sleeping now. Shit ticking up on a counter. That’s her jam. Her salary was never amazing, she never once broke seven figures, but she didn’t allow a paltry lack of funds stop her. Isadora swaps and deals; she makes “connections” with designers; she curates a public Insta stocked with her greatest hits, one she’s had from before her days as Envy. People give her things now that they know who she is. Envy has appeared publicly. She’s actually walked red carpets. She saw on Facebook the other day, two girls who wouldn’t even look at her in high school now remember her fondly as friends.

Dangerous are those who dream in the day, right?

Joining the Church of Sinners put something in Isadora--or awakened something in her-- that she could have never had anywhere else. Maybe without religion, she would have turned into a bitter, lame little sweatpants Redditor with a grudge and a vaguely male sounding username. Maybe without the Sinners, without her frickin’ savior the real damn Devil, she would have marinated in her loneliness, in her regret, in her failure to find a self that makes her happy.

Instead: she is does whatever she wants, because she wants to.

Instead: nothing is without meaning. Everything is progress.

Instead: the only thing worth hating about yourself is the past you. It is ironic that the thing that Isadora levers the most in her proselytizing is the dread that people feel, drifting awkwardly through the world, the ugly regret that she herself no longer truly feels. Her only ache is one of desire. She doesn’t want to go back and change anything; she wants to go forward.

The advent of the Horsemen has only purified Isadora’s faith. The fact that the Apocalypse is drawing nigh actually changes nothing. Why give up? Why abandon oneself to nihilism? Are you afraid? Really? Why? Now might be the last chance you ever get, bitches. Seize the motherfucking day.

Isadora is a fanatic. She has always lived in a world of angels and demons, beings that were hundreds, if not thousands, of times more impressive and deadly than herself--so what’s the difference between them and the Horsemen to a puny mortal? Emulate them, fight them, love them. Live how you want to live. This is her religion.

Isadora reviews her Biblical history sometimes, to construct her sermons; she pesters Raziel and Renee for the deets. She composes her arguments with the same brutal elegance as her code. One sheep is useless; you gotta have numbers. You have to see that count tick up. Even more than that, you have to see that the numbers are useless unless you control them, how they think and the ways they think it. You have to have a good hold on the flaw you’re using as your lever. Isadora thinks, damn, Old Testament God may have been onto something.

The flaw created in people is fear. Did you know that? That’s what you use if you really want to make them believe.

#about isadora

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faruangeldiary · 7 years

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I Left My Soul In Korea

When I leaving for Korea

It seemed i am going to Heaven

When I sat on my seat

The Thai Air hostess peeked on Ji Chang Wook image on my Tab Home Screen and smiled.

When I landed on Thailand Airport

I stepped foot on the land where i felt myself free from cage

When I was looking around the Thai Aiport

I was breathing freely with my consent.

When I landed on Hong Kong Airport

I had crush on lots of Male Staff

When I took another flight for Korea

I met adorable Korean guy ( i asked about some questions related to K-food)

When I went to Immigration Staff

Ahjussi shocked and showed my passport to his Colleague. ( As i was appearing on the KBS Competition “Quiz on Korea 2016″)

When i went out from the Incheon Airport

The person was holding the play card of “KBS Quiz on Korea 2016″

When he was taking to the Taxi Van (the most expensive taxi in Korea). The same van idols usually go in for schedules.

I fell in love with him at first sight.

When i sat on the Taxi with humble Ajhussi and handsome dream guy.

I was continuously talking to him about Korea. He gave me so much information related to quiz. I was happy i would meet him soon (i mistook him as KBS staff but he was the airport staff).

When he revealed he is airport staff

I was shocked and felt disappointed. My heart was broken into pieces.

When I reached to Somerset Palace

The Korean coordinators welcomed me.

When i reached to my hotel room around 11:00PM KST ( i had 12 hours of flight) from Pakistan to Korea

I was jumping on my bed and screaming “Finally i am in Korea”

When i didn’t wake up on time.

The Korean coordinator called us on phone for orientation.

When I started introducing myself in orientation

I was excited to meet new people but i was nervous too because i was accompanied with my younger brother. All other participants even younger than me came alone from the far without any hesitation. I felt outcast at the moment

When my brother called me handicap in front of others.

I felt offended and i wish i could slap him on his face. I was again outcast and my confidence scattered away.

When i was silently sitting in the room

The participant from Nepal approached me and started talking about Pakistani Music.

When i went to Han River.

I ate chicken without any worries.

When my brother came late from the washroom.

I was waiting for someone to help me in walking down the steep roadside. My Korean coordinator held my hand and then i walked down the steep road side.

When everyone was going for Yacht.

I was waiting for someone to help me. Someone reminded about me to my brother. He then came back to help me.

When i was playing Tuho- The traditional game of Korea.

Participant from the Morocco rushed towards me and hold my sticks.

When i was going towards Daechon Beach.

My Korean coordinator helped me in rolling up my jeans

When i was going into the water alone.

The same girl from Morocco held my hand immediately for the support.

When the adorable participant from Laos was taking pictures of me

I turned myself into Model XD

When I was meeting with myself and having fun.

Someone was making memories of mine from their cameras.

When adorable EXO fan (participant from Spain) came into my room on the night before the competition.

I had fear in my mind if I lost the competition, I had to face domestic violence again but I had to hide my scares in front of her. Actually I had fun with her. I wish I could laugh more but I had to goodbye her because I was in pain. I didn’t want to get hurt again and reveal my dark side. I wanted to keep her innocent and adorable image in my eyes.

When I was nervous at the backstage

I had conversation with participant from the Uruguay. He gave me confidence to stand on the stage. I had deep conversation with him, the photographer didn’t waste his time to capture this memory. If that participant wasn’t there with me. I might ended up with another attack of Epilepsy when i realized KBS mgmt didn’t provide English translation on screen. He saved my life once again. They changed the pattern of quiz in fortnight.

When 1st Round of KBS Competition Quiz on Korea 2016 started

I became dumb because I didn’t know what she is saying.

When I didn't qualify for the 3rd round

I cried alot in secret but i pretended that i am alright when Indonesian participant hugged me.

When a guy asked me for the help in taking picture with participant from Mongolia

The first time someone asked help from me during my trip.

When i met my Korean friends for the first time

I hugged them and cried.

When I met Lee Hwi Jae, Monsta-X and kissed Song Joong Ki and Park Bogum

It seemed I was dreaming.

When my Korean coordinators got confused when i ordered beef burger from McDonald

I wish i could tell them truth about myself.

When someone asked me about why i didn't answer of any questions in Round 1 ( it was in Korean language) in a sarcastic way.

The Nepali participant stood by my side and answered on my behalf that she did not know Korean much. Afterwards he revealed he voted me for Friendship Award. I was overwhelmed from his gesture. I went back to my room afterwards and cried loudly.

When i was leaving Korea

I cried at Airport and throughout on the flight.

When I went back to Pakistan

I felt I was caught and thrown into cage.

When my mom yelled at me

why I didn’t wear any scarf/stoll to cover my chest. When she got know that someone gift me alcohol as my friend mistook me non-Muslim. (it was slip of tongue when she saw empty alcohol plastic bottle). As it was the unique, it could be used for decoration, so i emptied and washed it. I wish i should have lied about the bottle to the mom.

When I was beaten and mentally tortured by my parents

because I didn’t wear scarf and received alcohol gift (which I had not taken even a sip of it). They physically and mentally abused me when I told them that I wanted to go Korea for studies.

When everyone refused to help me in getting scholarship for Korea.

I got another Epilepsy after 5 years. Then I ended up asking assistance from the strangers for the scholarship.

When my younger brother left house for not allowing him to marry with the girl whom he wants by my parents.

I ended up in hospital and diagnosed that one of my nerve got narrowed which affected my whole body. I wish God should have given me silent death that time.

When I got realized the no one is damn care about my feelings.

I ended up in isolation again and now I went back where I started from.

When I received call from Embassy that I didn't get scholarship.

I ended up in that phase where I cannot say if I am living or am just a dead body.

Conclusion:

I had a great time in Korea. I met myself over there. I was free. I ate whatever i want. No one was interfering in my personal space. I was living with my real identity. When they didn't let me in, God sent a girl to cheer me up. When I was nervous at the backstage, God sent the angel to motivate me to fight against the odds. When I didn't qualify for 3rd round, God sent someone to hug me and let me met with my Korean friends for the first time. When i was sad, God turns my dream into reality of meeting one of my favorite kpop group Monsta-X. I am proud of myself because I had reached there on my own. I didn’t go any institute to learn about Korea and its language. I studied about Korea by myself despite of strong criticism. I felt outcast because of my brother. I wanted to go Korea by myself but once again my family proved me that i am stupid insane handicap who will always be dependent on others.

Though Korea has many social problems. I don’t need any friends to be with me for 24/7. For me just one smile even from stranger is the enough food i need, to live my life freely forever. At least I can live with my real identity. I left my soul in Korea. I am living in fears. I should say I am waiting for my death.

#Soul in Korea #Monsta X #Park Bogum #Song Joong Ki #Lee Hwi Jae #KBS #Quiz on Korea 2016 #Korea #Pakistan #Pakistan girl

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mybazillionthblog · 7 years

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FALLITUR

Three times someone mistook Bryles for a couple and one time they were right

1. Ash's pov:

I see it as a privilege that i am friends with Briar Nolet. One of the most popular girls in my school, actually scratch that, the most popular girl in school. She's pretty and talented and sweet. That's why everyone likes her.

I may have a little crush on her, but which dude doesn't let's be real. My friends may argue that though. Saying that what i have is more than a little crush. The whole school may argue that. It's not that i kept it a secret, over the years she has been asked out a lot of times and let's just say i wasn't too happy with that. Luckily for me, most of the time she refuses.

The hype around Briar Nolet started in gym class. Before that lesson and that day, she was just another pretty girl. But then we started tumbling in p.e, and let's just say everyone was left agape. Not much longer she was called out of class to show others how it was done. Now she's like a legend. Every freshman to senior has heard of her and her talents at gymnastics.

But today was a new day in this friendship, today was the day i was going to ask her out. 'Take a new step in our friendship', as my friends say.

"When are u going to do it?" Blake asks me. Blake is one of Briar's best friends and she claims Briar has talked about me with her. Talked about me in a romantic way. I don't trust her too much though, she has wanted us dating since the day we spoke for the first day. Because 'the hottest girl has to date the hottest guy in school, that's just how it works.' Yes that is how it works, in movies and books.

All our friends are standing alongside her locker, waiting for her. School is over and i am going to ask her now. I wanted to do it with our friends around us, that if she agrees -which she will, i just know- we can all celebrate together. And if she rejects me, our friends can take the fall.

I hear her laugh before i see her long blonde hair that falls in waves over her shoulder. Everyone she passes is in awe of her beauty, even those who see her strictly platonic. She looks even more pretty today, as if she dressed up especially from what's coming. Maybe she knows, maybes she has been waiting a whole day for this. That thought makes me feel giddy inside.

"Hey guys, how are you doing?" Briar asks once she reaches her locker.

"Good", everyone mumbles. It's silent for a while, all my friends poking me an motioning for me to take the leap. Just when i open my mouth, she beats me to it.

"How do i look?" She says with a bright smile and hopeful eyes.

"Hot", all our friends say, while i mumble: "pretty", to her.

"Thanks!"

My mouth opened to let out the why that has been building up inside since she asked that question. For me, i know, i can't wait to tease her with this until forever. When suddenly she looks over my shoulder, to something behind me.

"Myles!!", she screams and practically shoves me away, jumping into his arms. We stand agape, yet again, watching them hug for a good minute.

"I thought you were going to come back tonight?" Briar asks, once she is back on the ground.

"Well, surpise!" The guy, Myles answers. Her boyfriend, i presume. How comes she never told us about him? I wouldn't have gotten my hope's up then.

I clear my throat: "So are you going to introduce us?"

"Oh yeah sorry, i was just so excited. Guys this is Myles, Myles these our my friends."

The Myles guy gives a half-awkward wave, "Hi"

Blake opens her mouth, i can't actually remember her being silent this long ever, "So, is he your boyfriend or something!"

Briar had her arm wrapped around his waist, his arm around her shoulder. She quickly let go once she heard that question though, blushing the reddest i had ever seen. "No! He's just my best friend!" She defended weakly.

"Yeah, and now we are going to our other best friends. But it was nice meeting you!" Myles says.

"Yeah, i'll see you guys monday!" Briar salutes us. And that was that.

When they're gone we exchange silent looks and come to the conclusion that they are together. And if they aren't now, they would be in less than a year.

** 2. Olivia's pov:

"I am so excited for this dance competition, you have no idea!" My best friend Natalia gushes to me.

"Me either, i love this kind of stuff. It's one of the reasons i do it for", i reply. And that really is the truth, i've been dancing since i was three years old. The competitions started around eleven and now i'm fifteen going on sixteen.

I am confident that i am good, but no overwhelmingly good. I know i'm not the talented dancer you see in competitions but i got the technique and, most importantly, the heart. Dancing is not something that i want to do professionally, it's fun as a hobby and i want to to stay fun. Plus, like i said before, i am not that good.

I used to dream of a career in dancing, but that's when i got to know Natalia. She has her both foot on the ground and makes sure i don't begin to float. She taught me that i can love dancing and have different interests. She herself want to major in architecture in future, i am not too sure. Probably something with languages.

But the most enjoyable part of having Natalia as a friend that while she doesn't go starry-eyed over guys, she definitely supports me in it. We're both confident and smart ladies, we go over to guys ourselves and don't wait for them to come to us. That's how we got most of our boyfriends in the past, that we weren't shy for them.

And right now i have my eyes on someone who i've been seeing on a lot of competitions, Myles Erlick is one of the most talented male dancers and in one of the best Companies, CDC. I love the way he dances fluently and swiftly like air doesn't exist and he floats over the stage.

To there are the three best dancers in CDC that get the most attention, first there is Briar Nolet who dances in every category, then there is Devon Brown who too dances in all of the categories and a lot with Briar. And then there is Myles, who isn't in as many dances, but has solo parts in them. Who doesn't only seem to exist to lift people or get lifted. Put those three together in a dance and they win, no doubt about it, it doesn't even matter in which category. They just win. Always.

"Let's go over to him!" Natalia says. She too is a big fan of him, of them. Cdc is one of the things she wished she was in. It's a shame we don't live in that area.

Myles is talking to one of the others girls and smiles when we go over to him. "Hey! I've seen you two at a lot of competitions right?"

"Yeah, we're a big fan of your company!" I say to him, "I'm Olivia and this is my friend Natalia."

"I'm Myles!" Then he looks to the left and get an 'in love-puppy look' on his face, as i like to call it. When she sees him looking at her she smiles back, before continuing her ongoing conversation looking a little confused like she lost all awareness of space and time. Myles turns back to us.

"Keep that", Natalia says to him.

"What?" He asks us confused.

"That relationship."

He keeps looking confused for a solid 10 seconds before realization shows on his face. "Ha no, Briar is not my girlfriend."

"I never said anything about a romantic relationship. But yes go for it! She's into you and if she is not, that's her loss!" I encourage, they would be so cute together. With that we walk away, throwing a bye over our shoulder.

** 3 Belle's pov:

I'm sitting alone in Starbucks in my favorite corner by the biggest window and working on my second novel. I like to sit here simply because i get inspiration from watching people do their thing. How they behave and the different ways to walk and talk. It's an eerie feeling to sit back relaxed from head to toe and warm mug of coffee.

My second novel was going to be a romantic story, about different complications in love and loving someone who will never loge you back. Easily translated to: 'friends to lovers' the story spreads over many years. Actually a lot like fan fiction, but the thing is, people in stories most of the time don't seem real. To me they always feel empty, or a lot anyway. There are few groundbreaking romantic stories, to me the romantic aspects always start too early. I live for slowburn.

So i'm planning for 500 pages, the first 200 is just platonic, then 200 figuring out their feelings and the last 100 the happily ever after. This the summary but there are a lot of complications along the way. I'm now almost at the end of the platonic story arc, trying to find inspiration from the people around me. How do they act with their significant other, how can i write the change smoothly.

That's when two teens stop in front of 'my' window. Curiously i watch them. The pretty blonde has her hand on his arm, while talking animatedly with her other, her eyes big in wonder en sparkling beautifully in reflection of the sunlight from the snow. The guy is throwing his head back in laughter before grabbing her hand and hoisting her up on his shoulder and spinning her around.

The girl is still laughing while lightly smacking his back, a mother who's walking by stops with her kids by her side. They are looking at them in awe, i wonder if they are aware of the attention directed at them. The guy sets the girl down next to her where they smile at each other before letting go of each other's hand. The mother and her kids continue walking.

I begin typing furiously on my computer while thanking every God out there. Not even minutes later i hear a ding that signs that a customer walked in, when i look back i see the lovesick couple walk in. The girl gives me a smile and sits down a table before me, while subconsciously smiling and looking out of the window. I turn back to my computer.

A while later the guy sits down in front of her and the begin a low conversation, still laughing every few minutes like the person sitting in front of them is the funniest person out there. No book or movie will ever be able to capture true love like this, but after i've seen it, i might as well try.

I close my laptop and stand up. On my way to the door i stop by their table, they look up at me almost dazed. "I really love your relationship!"

They both blush, look at each other and back to me in a second." We-we're not together..."

"Oh well, then i love your friendship."

"We're actually enemies", the guy says dryly while shooting the girl a 'dark' look that has the effect of a puppy. I laugh softly and walk away without saying goodbye, they're already too caught up in each other. When i walk outside i hear the girl exclaim: "This is the third time in three months..."

I wanted to scream back that maybe it was a sign to do something about it.

** +1 Macy's pov:

I'm sitting at the exact same place where my boyfriend broke up with me a year ago. He was my longterm boyfriend and i really hadn't seen it coming which made it so much worse. Sometimes i still speak to him, it had taken a while though before i had forgiven him for falling out love. Before accepting that not all love lasts forever and that nobody could do anything about it. I learned that now.

Today was the day i had my first date with a guy names Will, he had liked me for a while but was too afraid to come up to me while i was still dating my ex. I liked him, after the break-up we grew closer, until it came to this say. The day of our first date.

A couple walked by, holding hands and swinging them excitedly. They wore matching outfits, 9 months ago i would have closed my eyes and wished for the image to disappear. 8 months ago i would have envied them, pursed my lips and looked away. Today i yelled at them, "You guys seem really happy together!"

They looked at each other smiled and said: "We are!" And walked away.

Will tapped me on my shoulder and motioned for me to stand up from the bench i was sitting on. "Ready?"

Was i ready? After a year of constant doubt, was i ready to get back in the game. Maybe fall in love and maybe get my heart broken. I looked over at the happy couple again, now a little farther away but still smiling.

"Yes", i said, "i am ready."

___________ I wrote this in one (1) day... i actually kind of wrote this because i felt guilty for not writing the past month so yeah, this is my apology... now don't expect too much, this was it for this weekend, for this week. Or until i find something to write

Point out my grammar mistakes i wrote this in one go!!

All the love & until next time (if ur not done with me anyway)

#FALLITUR #= mistaken #bryles #cdc #briar nolet #myles erlick

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