traces of new york

EDIT: This post is old, Rose Christo was recently revealed to be a fraud


I feel like people are thinking that My Immortal was a genuine example of Rose Cristo’s writing when she was 15 yrs old, but the official description for her memoir that just came out confirms what I have always believed, that my immortal was a joke/trollfic, although the reason why she wrote it is something no one would have ever guessed:


A heartbreaking and wryly hopeful memoir of surviving the NYC foster care system―and how one girl’s “masterpiece of literary disaster” (io9.com) connected her to a community that could help her find her lost brother.

In the early 2000s, Rose Christo was separated from her five-year-old brother and shuttled between foster homes in Brooklyn to the Bronx and back again. Desperate to be reunited with her sibling, she traveled the five boroughs, unable to find any trace of him, as New York state’s child care agencies failed to help her time and again.

Then, with the help of one beloved foster sister, Rose created an infamous piece of Harry Potter fanfiction titled My Immortal, posting it online under the pseudonym XXXbloodyrists666XXX. The “forty-four chapters and 22,000 words of hysterical, typo-laden hyperbole” (BuzzFeed.com) went viral as the most notoriously terrible fanfic ever read by the community. For years, fans, writers, and editors researched, debated, and contested the story’s origin and its mysterious author: was this grammatically-challenged rant actually written by a suicidal Goth teenager named Tara Gilesbe living in Dubai, or was this a hoax perpetrated by a group of professional authors making fun of fanfiction?

The truth is a gripping, compelling, and surprisingly funny story of how a young girl infiltrated and used the fan fiction community to search for her brother by baiting their attention with a deliberately badly written tale, creating a ten-year mystery that garnered pop culture media attention and remained unsolved―until now.

https://www.amazon.com/Under-Same-Stars-Rose-Christo/dp/1250147034

2

The XIX Century Karla Homolka?

In the Summer of 1843, the murder of Captain Thomas Kinnear and his housekeeper and alleged lover Nancy Montgomery shocked Canada. Not only because of the brutality of the crime –Kinnear was shot, Nancy hit in the head with an axe, strangled with a scarf and dismembered– but also because one of the culprits was a 16 year old girl.

Grace Marks, an irish immigrant, had been working as a maid for Kinnear at the time of the murders. She eventually confessed to participating in the crime but placed most of the blame on James McDermott, the 20 year old stable hand. He also confessed, but claimed that Grace’s involvement had been bigger than what she’d said, and that it was she who planned and pressured him to kill Nancy, out of jealousy for her superior role in the household, and Kinnear so they could take his money.

Both Grace and James were found guilty and sentenced to hanging. Because of her age and sex, Grace’s sentence was commuted to life in prison. James was hanged on November 21st, 1843, 18 days after his conviction. Years after her sentence, Grace started showing signs of severe mental illness and claimed to be haunted by the faces of her victims. She was eventually released 30 years after her conviction, changed her name and moved to New York where her trace was lost.

The story inspired Margaret Atwood’s 1996 novel Alias Grace, and its release was the first contact many canadians had with this piece of their history. There’s a debate to this day whether Grace was guilty or merely a victim of a puritan society that disliked immigrants and didn’t respect women’s rights. Many have compared her to serial killer Karla Homolka, and portray her as a woman who pretended to be mentally ill to reduce her role in a crime she actively participated in.

Alias Grace, an excellent miniseries based on the novel, premieres on Netflix on November 3, 2017.

Coldest Winter (Newt x Reader)

Originally posted by your-harry-potter-imagines

For the lovely anon who requested: Newt imagine where Tina is jealous of you (newts long time best friend) and she keeps taking his attention off of you and you feel like he doesn’t want you around anymore and he finds you packing your stuff to leave or something? (He loves you tho)

Words: ~1800

Rating: Confessional, loving fluff that is guaranteed to cure your ailments for the day. <3

Hope you enjoy!


She was jealous.

You knew for a fact Tina Goldstein was resentful of the close relationship you shared with Newt Scamander, whom she had quickly taken a sort of “liking” to since the nearly catastrophic events in New York a few days ago.

The worst part was that you weren’t any better than her. Envy seeped through your skin when she made Newt smile, laugh, or impressed him with her captivating conversation and undeniable charm. You couldn’t completely blame her though, who wouldn’t fall for the loving, timid Hufflepuff?

Tina shamelessly flirted with your magizoologist every chance she got, only provoking the fire of bitterness that charred your insides black, leaving you empty and longing. Years spent traveling together had kindled a friendship between you and Newt that you treasured dearly. Over time, however, your fondness only grew with every freckled smile he threw your way, falling harder and faster than you ever thought possible. Newt’s lingering stares, adorably stuttered compliments and constant eagerness to keep close to you gave you the impression he felt the same.

And now, it seemed your progress over the years had come to a crashing halt in a matter of days.

You observed Tina’s latest attempt at winning Newt’s affections from the corner of your vision as you stared out into the snowy New York streets, absentmindedly tracing random designs on the frosted windowpane in the parlor. You couldn’t stop the barrage of destructive thoughts that scurried to the forefront of your mind: Tina was heart-stoppingly attractive, intelligent, and kept a smile on Newt’s face, just as he deserved.

You felt cold, yet almost desired to be numb for the off-chance it would ease the throbbing ache that settled in your chest when you took note of how content Newt seemed to be in Tina’s company. He chuckled at her story you had stopped listening to, grinning at her in a way that made you consider the possibility he did in fact like her better and wasn’t just being polite as usual…

Their bubbling laughter shattered your concentration, a shiver running down your spine, practically feeling Tina stare daggers into your back as you rubbed your finger raw on the frozen windowpane. “It’s a shame you have to leave so soon…” she trailed off, her exclusive emphasis giving you the urge to shatter the window in fury.

Your heated anger began to subside, however, when you stared out into the white-coated streets, snowflakes leisurely drifting onto dim streetlamps that lined the sidewalks.

You attempted to rid your head of negative thoughts and replace them with fond memories of other cold winter nights you and Newt had spent together, walking through snowy parks, him teaching you to ice skate, or even just cozy evenings inside the suitcase taking care of his wide expanse of creatures.

“Oh, w-well I’m sure Y/n wouldn’t mind if we stayed just a bit longer…um, Y/n?”

The scene outside instantly became much colder in your eyes, harsh and lonely and the coldest winter you’ve experienced, feeling as though the crisp frost from the window soaked into your skin, ice crystallizing your blood and prickling at your bleeding heart.

“I need to go,” you muttered, blinking back tears as you rushed for the guest bedroom.

Newt stood immediately at your hasty exit, ready to pursue until Tina grabbed hold of his forearm, “Newt, she just doesn’t–” Her words fell on deaf ears as Newt watched you slip into the bedroom, flinching as you slammed the door behind you.

The wizard slowly sat on the edge of the sofa grudgingly, gnawing at his lower lip anxiously as he continued to glance behind his shoulder at the bedroom door. He sighed, gaze hardened as he looked to the Goldstein sister with determination. “Tina… we need to talk.”


Everything you had done– devoted yourself to, was for the sake of the magizoologist’s happiness, and if his well-being no longer involved your support, then so be it.

Packing your suitcase became an outlet for the emotional hurricane that tore you apart from the inside out. You violently grabbed your clothes from their hangers, chucking your belongings on the bed unceremoniously and stuffing them forcefully into the case to keep the tears of frustration at bay. All the while, you were cold, the tip of your nose and fingers numbing from your gazing out the window. You ignored the pins and needles in your freezing toes as you shoved another shirt in the case.

You stiffened at the sound of the door squeaking open. “Sorry, Y/n, I was…” the magizoologist trailed off as he came to an abrupt halt upon fully noticing your packing. “W-what are you…doing?” his brow furrowed in nervous confusion.

You paused only for a moment, heart aching and hands shaking as you stared at the last shirt to be packed, crumpled and lonely over the edge of the suitcase.

“Where are you going?” Newt questioned, a new sense of urgency in his tremulous voice as he made his way over to you, his seafoam eyes scanning your blank expression for an answer. He cautiously removed his navy blue coat and gingerly set it on the bed, as if any disturbance would shatter any chance of pulling a response from you. “Y-Y/n?”

“It’s been an honor…” You swallowed thickly, attempting to keep your composure, though your voice continued to waver, “…and a pleasure, thank you for everything.” You forced yourself to look up into the emerald eyes you had come to love once more, only to feel daggers pierce your chest at the thought of leaving them for good. The wizard looked to you with such concern, compassion and care… You didn’t want to leave the man you adored with every bit of your being–

You recognized muffled laughter from the kitchen that reminded you of the scene you witnessed in the parlor, and mentally berated yourself for being so selfish. You wanted the best for Newt, and if he felt his best with Tina, you wouldn’t allow your envy to prevent his happiness.

Newt watched in worry as your sympathetic expression melted into one of pure sorrow, his heart almost breaking at the mere thought of you so upset. “Y/n-?”

“G-goodbye.” You stammered, inhaling sharply and darting around the stunned magizoologist toward the door.

Newt’s jaw hung slightly ajar in shock and panic as you rushed past him. Time felt irrelevant as he watched your retreating form, hurried and stiff, feeling a sense of dread blossom in his chest when he fully processed what you had said.

Taking wide strides, Newt dashed in front of you, flinging his narrow body against the door and gripping the handle for good measure, amber-curls flailing wildly as he frantically shook his head, muttering, “No, no you c-can’t, you can’t–”.

Your breath hitched at the raw fear that laced his wide herbal eyes that locked with yours, surprised at his unexpected fierce determination to keep you from leaving. You fumbled for words, “Newt, I–”

The wizard’s grip on the doorframe tightened, his gaze hardening solemnly. “If y-you leave now…” Newt inhaled deeply, eyes clenching shut as he exclaimed, “I won’t ever love again!”

The intensity that laced his confession left you speechless. It wasn’t so much a threat as it was a statement of fact that seemed to terrify him to the core, his eyes widening in panic and grip on the doorknob so tight his knuckles whitened. “P-please,” he begged, his voice becoming much softer and beseeching, “Don’t leave.”

A yearning to sweep the distraught magizoologist into your arms gnawed away at your soul, a feeling of emptiness apparent as you stared into his vibrant green eyes that were brimming with tears and churning with unspoken hope.

“I won’t,” you blurted quickly, your free hand covering Newt’s on the doorknob reassuringly as you let your suitcase drop to the floor, the floorboards vibrating beneath your feet from the impact. “I won’t…”

For a moment the two of you continued to gaze at one another, the subtle sound of Newt’s heavy breathing barely audible over your anxious heartbeat that thundered in your ears.

It was all Newt could do to keep from collapsing in relief at your words, the panic subsiding as his tense muscles relaxed and whirlwind of fearful thoughts retreated back to darker recesses of his mind. The wizard wasn’t aware of the hot tears that streamed down his freckled cheeks until you tenderly brought your cool hands to his face and gingerly swept them away with the pads of your thumbs. “I’m so sorry, Newt,” you hushed soothingly, feeling your own tears form at realizing your thoughtless mistake, “I won’t ever leave, I promise.”

Newt’s expression relaxed to one of soft joy, raising his warm hands to your wrists to gingerly pull you into his chest and wrap his arms around you in a contented embrace. The natural warmth that he radiated seeped straight into you, thawing your frozen core. He smelled heavily of damp soil and fresh cut wood, the scent you identified as that of home.

“I’m so sorry–”

“Don’t be, love.” Newt hushed, his grip on you tightening protectively.

“No, I am, I was selfish, I was…I was stupidly jealous because, I…I just–” You struggled for words before another thought sent your mind on a new track, “W-wait, what did you mean by never loving again?” you asked hesitantly, hope instantly swelling in your chest as you felt Newt grin against your shoulder.  

He hummed lovingly, the reverberations on your bare shoulder sending goosebumps up your neck. “Y/n, my heart has been in your hands since the beginning.”

You almost could have leaped in joyous surprise, his confession delightfully melting your chilled heart. Your second-thoughts found their way through your throat before you could think over what you were saying, “The way Tina looks at you, t-talks to you, she’s trying to–”

“Though her efforts are quite, um, flattering,” He gave an airy laugh, his thumbs tracing soothing circles along your spine. “I’ve made it clear this evening that my affections are reserved for someone else.”

The stark potency of his words triggered a wave of elation that washed over your entire form, your knees threatening to buckle under you as you hugged the wizard even closer, allowing the flood of euphoric feelings to manifest in a choked sob as you nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Oh dear, that wasn’t meant to make you upset,” Newt cooed, chuckling softly at your passionate response as he fondly planted a kiss just behind your ear.

Despite your emotionally-charged state, you found yourself giggling with a contented smile, “I’ve never been happier, actually.”

The unmistakable sensation of Newt’s contented sigh sent delighted shivers down your spine. “Neither have I…”

You had no idea how long you managed to stand there for the evening, though you both felt you could live in the comfort of one another’s arms for all eternity.


As you walked hand in hand to board the ship to leave New York the next morning, you looked to Newt with the fondest of smiles that he easily reciprocated with a light pink dusting his freckled cheeks.

Your destination may have been back to Britain, but you had truly found home wherever you went with your loving magizoologist.



Hope you enjoyed!

A big thank you to all of those who have liked/reblogged and left such lovely comments, they truly make my day and I cannot express my appreciation enough! <3 It’s a pleasure to write for you all!

Tags: @maybe-maj

two bourbons too many // ~1k of zarry nonsense because I’ve been feeling all kinds of things today

Zayn drums his fingers off the tops of his thighs, legs sprawled out over the worn sofa. The half-empty glass of bourbon resting on his stomach is lukewarm, his hand wrapped loosely around it. He’s more playing with it than drinking it at this point. The bottle lies, discarded, somewhere on the carpeted floor nearby. It’s more than half empty.

On the screen in front of him, the credits start to roll. The text blurs in front of Zayn’s eyes. His head is fuzzy and a little sore; he’s drunk, and he’s hot, and he’s tired. He squints past the text and watches Harry’s smile break out, high definition dimples and all.

Zayn grunts, shifts, and the glass goes tumbling to the floor. Amber liquid splashes over the carpet and Zayn sighs. He scratches at his belly and sits up. The world tilts on its axis and he takes a deep breath. He scrubs his hands over his face. He hadn’t even realised that he’d been crying but his cheeks are damp to the touch and the corner of his mouth is salty where the tears have gathered.

Probably shouldn’t.

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