bridge side

Raf Simons spring—summer 1999.

Raf Simons organised his show at the “Cité des Sciences et de l’Industrie” in Paris on the 3rd of July 1998. The “Kinetic Youth” collection was presented outside, in front of the enormous mirror ball located in La Villette’s Science and Industry museum in Paris. The set refers to the architectural influences in Raf Simons’ life and also to kinetic objects from his youth. Raf Simons used different songs of David Bowie during the whole show. 

The opening part:
The show opened with David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” and the opening part was inspired by the graphic style of “Bauhaus”;
-Clean lines
-Shirts with white/black contrast (different black pleats in the back and black triangle on the front)
-Black wool pants with on the front one, two or three pleats 

The second part:
A group of very young teenagers wearing white turtleneck shirts with an “R” symbol, stitched on the collar. Their pants were all in different colours; red, petrol, light grey, mint, beige mêlée, marine…The models walked together in a group on the bridge, on one side of the runway leading to the mirror ball, then to the central building and to the bridge on the opposite side of the first one.
-Inspiration: School Memories, for example gymnastic lessons in uniform, repetition.
-Music: “Life on Mars”, David Bowie.

The global idea behind the last two show parts was the inspiration of the “Rubik’s cube” object; order and disorder of colours.

The third part:
Classic ton-sur-ton outfits with merino wool knitted pullovers and classic suits. This time the pleated pants are light grey, beige mêlée, brown and marine.

The fourth part:
The most important material in this part was the coloured leather. Raf Simons showed mixed coloured outfits, like trashed cutted rock t-shirts in yellow and green, with large leather jogging pants and sleeveless tunic jackets. Colours brown, grey, light grey, aubergine, mint, green, red……
-Music: “Heroes”, David Bowie.

The song of the final part: ”Another brick in the Wall” from Pink Floyd. The whole group of ca. 60 boys walked quite fast on the runway, but now in the opposite direction. The order becomes a disorder, as in the song: ”we don’t need no education”. Raf Simons feels inspired by youth culture: on one side they are wearing uniforms, but inside they still feel like HEROES, like unique individuals.

Looking across the Lower East Side from the Manhattan Bridge.

Get Used To It (lyrics)

I wrote this song just now inspired by a couple things. First by all the people who are uncomfortable with the changes I’ve been making and the ones basically saying I’m not built to last. That was the original inspiration but then as I got to the second verse and the bridge I started thinking of elementary and middle school kids and how they need to hear certain things and be built up a little. I just heard about an ELEVEN YEAR OLD who committed suicide and it legit broke my heart. Like suicide is horrible enough as it is but 11 years old my gosh, that’s just way too young to already be that crushed by the world 😭 I started thinking of those kids singing along with this song and what they’d need to hear so that’s what the second verse and bridge are. I also wanted to give the perspective of how haters/bullies/people who doubt you in general always come from a place of fear and insecurity and we just have to remember that they’re not living the kind of lives we want to live so we can just ignore them and stay on our own paths. So yeah let me know if you like it haha 🙈

V1: There was a time I was just like you, I let fear tell me what to do. I was broken down, I was missin out, I wasn’t living the way that I wanted to. I used to think that I wasn’t enough, I let my fears come and shut me up, yeah. I was wasting time, I was dead inside. I was living but I wasn’t alive.
PRE: I made some big changes, stopped living for the strangers. I started to listening to the voice inside. Now I’m onto something greater, this one’s for all my haters. It’s time I showed you a different side.
CHORUS: You’re gonna see me around doing what I want, working hard til I get all the things I want. Yeah, I could hang around, I could wait around. But that’s that’s that’s not how I’m doing it.
I’m not the scared little girl that I was before, I don’t need your permission anymore. Yeah, I’m doing it, I’m proving it, you’re gonna have to get get get used to it.
V2: I hear you talking behind my back, I guess I have to cut you some slack. You’ve been broken down, you’ve been missing out. You’re not living the way that you want to. But that’s not my problem this time, say what you want I’ll be just fine yeah. You don’t get to choose, if I win or lose, that’s just not up to you.
PRE: I’m doing so much better, turns out I’m pretty clever. There’s so much more to me than meets the eye. I’m onto something greater, this one’s for all my haters. It’s time I showed you a different side.
BRIDGE: This is me. I am enough. I am strong. I am tough. Not gonna quit. I’m gonna fight. I’m gonna live a beautiful life.
(Higher) this is me. I am enough. I am strong. I am tough. Look at me now, shining so bright. I’m gonna live a beautiful life.

There is Power in Threes (Part 1/3+1)

@the-last-hair-bender, @meggory84,

I present the unbeta’d chapter one of that Labyrinth/Star Wars crossover you all wanted me to write. I can’t promise chapter 2 for a few weeks, as I’ve exams I really ought to be studying for. But I hope you enjoy the first bit. (Continues under a cut as its a tad longer than I like posting otherwise.)

Obi-Wan is nine - three by three - the first time he meets the Goblin King. A full moon shines alone in the eternally lit skies of Coruscant. The initiates had been studying Darthominian folk customs that afternoon in their class on the cultures of other Force users. Bruck had broken a precious artifact in the teacher’s absence, then proceeded to blame it on Obi-Wan. The teacher had not believed his denial. “With behaviour like this, maybe the Goblins should take you,” the Master taking the class had declared. Half jest to reassure him, but that meant they were half sincere at the seriousness of the crime.

“Hey, Oafy-wan.” Bruck had called that night, safe in their dorm. “Maybe tonight Goblins will take you away. You’d fit right in with them.”

Obi-Wan had clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and forced himself to not retaliate. He had already been refused that night’s sweet, and forced to clean the common area. All for something he had not done.

That night cold and alone, Obi-Wan gazed longing out the window at the moon, hugging himself close. “You know what I wish?” He asked the stars he couldn’t see. “I wish, I wish the Goblin King would take me away to the Goblin Kingdom. At least there I’d know I was wanted.”

Deep at the heart of the Room of a Thousand Fountains, an old water clock completed its final cycle for the day. When the final chime fell silent, the only things in the bed by the window are a small round crystal - clear and pure as a drop of moonlight - and a single stray feather.

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THE STORIES OF OUR LIVESThe American Identity in Musical Theatre 2016 EDITION

3 hours. 45 songs. A special 4th of July playlist that examines that various shades of the American experience in one of the few genuinely American art forms. UPDATED July 3, 2016.

Everybody’s Got the Right - Assassins / Cool, Cool, Considerate Men - 1776 / The Old Red Hills of Home - Parade / To Build a Home - The Bridges of Madison County / Lady’s Maid - Titanic / America - West Side Story / Carnaval Del Barrio - In the Heights / My Shot - Hamilton / Waitin’ For the Light to Shine - Big River / Molasses to Rum - 1776 / The Eagle and Me - Bloomer Girl / The Flagmaker, 1775 - Songs for a New World / Momma Look Sharp - 1776 / Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down) - Hamilton / Life Story - Closer Than Ever / Back to Before - Ragtime / Oklahoma! - Oklahoma! / Goodbye/Boom Boom - Elegies / The Flesh Failures (Let the Sunshine In) - Hair / Unlikely Lovers - Falsettoland / Will I? - Rent / Something Just Broke - Assassins / It’s In Your Hands Now - Road Show / Wheels of a Dream - Ragtime / The Saddest Song - Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson / There is a Child - Giant  / Paciencia y Fe - In the Heights / Politics and Poker - Fiorello! / The House We Live In - Grey Gardens / Our Favorite Son - The Will Rogers Follies / A Normal, Healthy, American Boy - Bye Bye Birdie / What You Own - Rent / Second Nature - Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson / Sarah - The Civil War / How Glory Goes - Floyd Collins / Gaman - Allegiance / Till We Reach That Day - Ragtime / Let It Sing - Violet / Free At Last - Big River / The Lynching Blues - Bring in ‘da Noise, Bring in ‘da Funk / Lot’s Wife - Caroline, or Change / I Know Where I’ve Been - Hairspray / Everybody Rejoice! - The Wiz / Ol’ Man River - Show Boat / Make Them Hear You - Ragtime


Dark Protector

YAY! Another Darkiplier fic! 

Fic request: 
“Can I have another Darkiplier Fic? Some fluff. Where like, reader is being bullied and Dark kind of sees it happens and threatens them maybe. It’s okay if you don’t wanna do it. <3”

I wrote this so the reader was a high-schooler and Dark is a friend. Hope thats ok! 

Hope you enjoy!

Originally posted by markfangirl

You rarely lied to him. He hated liars, and you were one of the few that refused him the truth. 
But something has been wearing you down. Tearing at the sides of your mind and turning your smile into a soft line. 
When he asked you to tell him what it was that was hurting you, you had simply replied with, 
“It’s nothing, Dark. I’m just tired.” 
That simple lie turned his uncertainty into anger.
There was defiantly something wrong. 
And Dark took it upon himself to find out what. It was lucky he did, because on the day he trailed your daily schedule to school, he witnessed something that made his blood boil. 
“Hey, look there’s the weirdo!” A group chuckled as you approached. Their eyes sneering. “What? Not going to say hello?”
You shouldered your bag and continued inside. As you passed them, one flicked out their foot, catching your shoe and making you trip. You caught yourself before stumbling to the dirt, but Dark could see the frustration flash in your eyes. 
For a moment, he thought you were going to say something. But the group turned to you, sensing the same thing. 
You shook your head, defeated, you stormed away with your shoulders slouched and the group laughed, hooting and scoffing. 
Dark retreated back as more students filed into the school. He kept near the school, watching from within the shadows as your day unfolded. 
The group harassed you whenever you crossed their path. Dark noticed how you rounded corners quickly, taking the long paths to your classes just to avoid them. 

Dark barely contained his anger when the group forced you into the “out of order” bathrooms and locked you inside. They had followed you from the school, cutting through the park you walk through to surround you.
They took your bag and fled as soon as you started banging on the doors. Sniggering, mocking your pleas of release.
Dark waited till the little pests disappeared before stepping into the rest-room. 
He sneered at the place, finding the smell disgusting and the cleanliness unsightly. A type of slime covered the floor, spilling from a clogged toilet with another “out of order” sign.
Dark approached the stall you were stuck in and tore the wooden door off it’s hinges. 
You jumped back in shock. Tears stained your eyes and you hastily wiped them away. 
“Dark? What are you doing here?” You asked. 
“Getting you out of this ungodly place,” Dark replied, throwing the broken door down in disgust. “Come on, I’m taking you home.” 
“Dark, did you follow me-” Dark cut you off by walking out of the rest-room.
He dusted off his suit as if he was riding the stench from the shiny fabric. His lips curled and he smoothed down the jacket as you exited the bathrooms. 
“They took my bag,” You said quietly. Too ashamed, hurt, to speak. 
Dark allowed his eyes to soften for a moment, but they were fueled by his anger as you wiped away a stray tear. 
“How long have they been harassing you?” Dark asked, “And don’t lie to me, (Y/N). I’ve had enough of your lies.” 
You fidgeted with your shirt, unable to look Dark in the eye. “A few months. This…This isn’t the first time they’ve locked me in something. Last time it was a locker.” 
Dark’s head twitched, but he breathed deeply, halting the movement before it escalated. 
“Do you know where they went?” Dark asked, his fingers curling. 
“They usually hang out by the bridge,” You told him. “Wait! Dark don’t hurt them!” 

Dark had already disappeared. 
He reappeared by a river, a stone bridge crossing it’s width. And leaning against the stone railing was the group of bullies. 
Dark approached them, setting a kind smile on his face. The first to notice him found nothing friendly about his smile. It was angry, predatory. 
“Which one of you took (Y/N)’s bag?” Dark asked when he was close enough. 
The leader stood forward, producing your bag in his hand. 
“I did, what of it?” He asked with a challenging grin. 
“I want it back,” Dark said. He lifted his hand, palm up and waited for the imbecile to give it to him. 
The boy scoffed and, with a flick of his arm, threw the bag over the side of the bridge and into the water. 
“Go get it, weirdo,” The boy laughed. 
Dark sighed and he moved in a blur. His hand took the front of the kid’s shirt and he lifted him into the air. 
Now, the bully dangled over the side of bridge, his feet kicking wildly as he screamed. 
“How about, you help me out and get it yourself.” Dark snarled. His fist opened and the boy plummeted into the water. 
Dark turned to the rest of the group, his eyes completely black and his head jerking. 
“As for the rest of you,” His voice crackled, a rumble that split mid-word. “You ever treat (Y/N) with anything less than the respect they deserve, I will personally see to your education!” 
The bridge trembled under their feet and Dark’s teeth flashed in a feral snarl. The group cowered before him. Paled and terrified. Dark stepped forward and in that space of a stride, the group sprinted away. Yelling apologizes and pleaing. 

You rounded the corner, just coming into view of the bridge as the group fled from Dark.
They were unharmed, but by the look on their faces, Dark might as well harmed them.
In the river, you saw the last bully climb the river-bed with your soaking bag in hand.
His whole body trembled as he approached Dark with your bag outstretched towards him.
“P-Please don’t hurt me,” The bully begged. Dark took your bag and his mouth twisted in a wicked smile.
“How fast can you run?” He asked, the air around him becoming heavy with pressure.
The boy whirled, stumbling over his own shoes in his haste to get away. Dark didn’t move until the bully had disappeared and you had stepped onto the path towards him. 
“Thank you,” You said, taking the bag. 
“Next time, my dear,” Dark purred. “Tell me when you’re being shoved around. I’ll be sure to put those insects in their place.”

(Sorry it’s so long)


Loved Ones Gris-Gris

This bag is used as a more subtle (or softer) means of communication with the departed – through dreams. Its purpose to to build the bridge between sides and allow for easier contact both in and outside of sleep/dreams. The process is as follows:


  • Mullein (dried)
  • Wisteria Blossoms (dried)
  • Mugwort (dried)
  • Lavender (dried)
  • Graveyard Dirt

Optional Ingredients:

  • Bradford Pear Blossoms (fresh)
  • Peach Skin (desiccated) *
  • Blushing Bracket (Daedaleopsis confragosa, dried; powdered/shredded)


  • Blue Fabric (6x6, 8x8 – square)
  • Cord – white or a light blue/lilac
  • Paper
  • Blue Ink (w/ quill or pen) – if blue is not available, black will work just fine


  • Begin foremost by drawing the above seal of a slip of paper. On the reverse, right the name of the one you seek to contact above the eye and your own name below it. Burn the paper and collect this ashes – this will be the foundation of your mix. If you so choose, you could add some Van Van oil to the slip of paper before burning. 
  • Add to the ashes all ingredients mark (dried) above. Give them a blend with your fingers. In the center of your cloth, make a bed of the herbs. If you elected to use the desiccated peach skin, place it first atop the herbs. If not already shaped (I used a natural clump – pictured above), roll the Graveyard Dirt as best you can into a ball shape. Don’t wet it. If it is very dry and doesn’t hold, simply sprinkle it over the herbs. Decorate the exterior with your fresh blossoms before gathering the corners and cinching the bag around the neck.
  • To use, place under your pillow for the 7 nights leading up to the full moon. On the day or night of the moon, remove it and go to the grave of he/she you wish to connect and leave the bag upon their headstone – with flowers if you can.
  • If the person you seek’s grave is unreachable, bury the bag in the graveyard on unclaimed soil along with their name or photo.

* – to make desiccated peach skin, gently peel the peaches with a sharp knife into chunks or ribbons, depending on your peeling skills/technique. Place the peelings into a jar or bag filled with 1:3 mixture of brown sugar and salt to cover, I also add in some fragrant cinnamon powder. Let these dry in a dark, warm, dry place until the skins begin to curl and they are no longer soft (or, rather: gelatinous) to the touch. To expedite drying, using a jar, follow the same process but place the jar (filled with the skins and salt/sugar/cinnamon mixture) into an oven set to ~200F and allow them to “cook” for ~4 - 6 hours, or until they are completely dry. When they are finished, they look reminiscent of mummified flesh – hence why they’re one of my favorite Craft ingredients!

The Quest (‘The Visit’ Pt.3)

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this took so long to post. It was very difficult to write as we all know what happens to Aelin and her family. The entire fic is told from Rowan’s point of view. I hope you like it.

The Visit (Pt. 1)  The Lesson (Pt. 2) The Confrontation (Pt. 4)  The Confession (Pt. 5)

Ao3 Link

Rowan Whitethorn flew long and hard. He flew over the stone houses of Dorenelle and soared across the continent of Wendlyn. He flew over the ocean; and when his magic couldn’t take it anymore, he trekked across Oakwald Forest – the forest of the Fae – all the way to Terrassen where something has happened to little Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.
Rowan thought that if – no, when he found the Princess, he would take her far, far away from this place. She was so small, so fragile, but she was brave and strong. She was a fighter and she would make it out of this.

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Jeremy: So. I /may/ have gotten myself into a situation of sorts.
Jeremy: And by situation I may be camped out under the east side bridge with a trunk full of exotic fish
Jeremy: Cops searching for my ass. Out of fuel. And low on ammo.

Ryan: Exotic fish?
Ryan: You’ll be explaining in the car. I’ll come get you.
Ryan: One of you, get a plane or chopper and back me up.

Jeremy: It’s… a long story. I owed someone a favor and they called it in.

Michael: On fucking exotic fish?

Jeremy: Listen. When you’re a low level criminal in Boston, you do some… questionable things.

53° N, 6° W

Fingers slick with the sweat
of clouds, wound tight around
stones choked with treble notes,
television static, shadow puppets
like bridges on the wrong side
     of daylight–

mornings were made for parting,
fishing leaves from your mouth,
beer-flavored bus seats groaning
the name of a place into which your
     sand dollar toes might sink.