Hey

I don’t think it has been done before but if it has please credit them.

Charlie (Acrobat/Rope Walker): She started the circus to bring smiles to the people of hell, even if it’s for one night. She is extremely graceful high above everyone else and let’s all her worries drift away. She would also sing and remix the music they perform to.

Vaggie (Knife Thrower): She joined Charlie in the beginning as a two person act but gained more people later on. She is confident with her skills. Only Charlie knows how she was trained to do this (totally not gang stuff from when she was alive but that’s another head canon of mine.) and she is still overprotective of Charlie.

Angel Dust (Sword Swallowing/ Air Acrobatics): He is super confident and only wears super sexy and revealing clothing. He came to the circus quite recently and joined without telling of his past (he’s escaping Val). The circus becomes a lot more popular because of him being a well known porn star and stripper. He is also a partner in Vaggie’s  routine as a sword swallower.

Alastor (Ring Leader/Magician): He came to the Circus after it was made fun of by Katie Killjoy and had Husk and Niffty work with them. He did the announcements and magic tricks for the show (totally not killing the people who piss him off).

Nifty (Clown): YOU CAN NOT TELL ME SHE ISN’T A CLOWN. She would be doing cute tricks, doing balloon animals and face makeup for Kids. Plus she would definitely fit in the tiny car.

Husk (Lion Tamer and Magician): Even though he is our clown, in this AU he would tame Hell Hounds and their feline counterpart along with card tricks. He absolutely hates kids but he kind of has to (since Alastor is always nearby).

If you guys would want to see more feel free to ask

This is halloween

Found Family tropes always suck me in. 

I’d think at least Lilith would go to her own daughter’s wedding, especially as the featured piano player, but the pilot just showed her parents to be so busy, and with her Hotel advertising dragging some dirt on the family name, tensions probably ran high. 

Husk is holding a drink menu with a little napkin inside that Charlie wrote on with a crayon. The one who catches the bouquet is Sir Pentious. And you’re dang right Fat Nuggets gets front seat. …Charlie was supposed to have white flowers in her hair but I forgot them… whoops… 

She replied, “I just want a hug, it won’t hurt her.”

Me: She. Said. No.  

When I first met my stepdaughter, if I asked for a hug, she wouldn’t say no, but she’d go into a protective stance and just wait. She was waiting for me to violate her boundaries. I told her “you don’t have to give me a hug if you don’t want one. You’re allowed to say no”. It took a while, but now she’s happy saying no.

My drunk ass had actually walked home without them, pounded on my apartment door, gotten let in by my rightfully-disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to pass out on the couch.  Apparently I puked in the toilet before passing out.  I do not remember this part.

The next morning, I schlepped back to the frat house.  I stood there, right in front of the front door.  This was a novel experience for me.  I’d never been at a frat house in broad daylight before.

A boy, presumably, of the house, asked me what I was doing. 

“I lost my keys in here last night,” I called back.  “I was seeing if I could go in and look for them?”

He opened the door and gestured for me to come in.

“Go wherever you want.”

I’d never seen a frat house post-party before.  Wandering up the stairs and through the halls, I was surrounded by hungover and still-drunk frat boys stumbling around in their socks and sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food and showers like moths to a porch light.  A few of them threw puzzled glances my way.  I’m sure they thought I was some post-bacchanalia hallucination.

I entered one room where a boy was drunkenly watching some Old Yeller-esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of his room from his bed.

“Do you like dog movies?” he asked, voice all mumbly from grogginess and also from the fact that his face was squished against his pillow and half-buried by his blanket.

I told him I did.

He mumbled again, pleased, and asked what I was doing.  I told him I was looking for my keys.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen any keys around here.”

I didn’t doubt him.

Twenty minutes had passed.  I’d searched just about every bedroom and nuclear-waste-dump-site of a bathroom in that house.  I’d given up on ever finding my keys and was prepared to beg my roommates’ forgiveness and get a new set copied.

As I stood there in the hallway, silently bewailing my predicament, a particularly-burly frat boy approached me.

“You need help with something?”

“I lost my keys here last night and I can’t find them, I’ve looked everywhere.”

“What do they look like?  I’ll put it into the group chat.”  He was already pulling out his phone.

No one ever checks a group chat, I thought, but what the hell.  It was worth a shot.  “Um, it’s just a ring of keys.  The keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like yea big.  Like bright pink, you can’t miss it.”

He nodded, presumably typing this description faithfully into the group chat.

“Alright, I sent the message out.  Good luck.”

And with that, he turned and left.

A few moments later, I heard a distant thundering.  It was coming from upstairs, and it was getting louder and louder.  One assumes that how I felt in that moment was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest stampede through the ravine as a horde of large young men all thundered down the stairs, making a beeling for me.

“Someone tell the girl!” One of them shouted, faceless in the mob.  “Girl!  Hey, GIRL!!!  We found your keys, girl!!!”

They circled around me.  I hadn’t felt that small since I was maybe eleven years old.  One of them split himself off from the crowd.

“Are these -” he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, “your keys?”

And lo, there was the distinctive bright millennial pink cat keychain dangling off the ring.

“Yes,” I whispered.  “Oh my god, yes.”

“EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

The cheer went up.

we (the camp leaders) found the most efficient way to do so was to blast music from a tinny little speaker one of us owned.

so before the sun itself has risen, we’re walking down a corridor with 8+ rooms filled with 6 or more boys in each, blasting the one and only Let It Go from Frozen, hoping to wake a few students, preparing for hateful commentary.

instead, what we got was the thumps and shouts of boys excitedly leaping from bunk beds, stuffing on shirts and bursting into the corridor to scream the lyrics to Let It Go.

every.single.boy.did this.

they were all still wearing their bike helmets and giving each other boosts up the ladder, making sure all the others were safe. i stopped and was staring at them from across the street, and one of the boys on the ladder looked at me and then said something to all the other boys there.

and then he waved.

and then suddenly all of these random twelve year olds who i’d never seen in my life were waving furiously at me shouting “hi!” and then suddenly like FIVE MORE BOYS that i hadn’t even seen popped up on the roof and waved at me too.

and i waved back of course, and started walking because i didn’t want to distract from their climb, but every single one of them waved until i was completely out of sight.

So, I run my school’s anime and gaming club and at our homecoming tailgate we brought my family’s old TV and my brother’s Nintendo Switch. We had a crazy Smash Bros tournament and raised a lot of money for my club. 

Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable.

Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around.

Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times.

Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience.

And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or  Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or  Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.

Nah.

OP (of the tweet thread) was either a actively trying to start shit or is just a huge fucking moron. Probably both.

I’d like to point out that the company that makes American Girl dolls actually doesn’t skimp when doing their research and they don’t make the dolls with the intent to be offensive in any way:

Felicity’s my second favorite, but mostly because I never got over the moment of shock and realization that hit me when Felicity’s best friend’s grandfather (who was loyal to the king of England) was INPRISONED FOR NOT BEING AN AMERICAN REVOLUTIONARY. BY FELICITY’S BROTHER. AND HE WAS GOING TO BE TARRED AND FEATHERED, AN ACT THAT WOULD KILL HIM. It really made me take a step back, because in school we’d been learning about the lengths revolutionaries would go to to drive out the colonists, and I never considered that a lot of those acts were cruel. An old man getting tarred and feathered no longer seemed like an act of rebellion, but an act of genuine cruelty. And like… it made me realize that it’s important to be accepting, even of those whose world views you don’t agree with. It’s important to punish those who genuinely hurt others, and prevent others from being harmed. And it was also the moment when I realized that the history taught in American schools is… INCREDIBLY biased.

One of the best things about the American Girl books is that they don’t ever just show one person’s perspective. They do their best to surround the main character with characters whose beliefs and experiences will challenge their own, and they do their best to show these characters being FRIENDS. And then they show how, even though these two characters care deeply for one another, their cultural differences still cause unique struggles, because there is almost always horror on both sides. And for Kaya, they didn’t do a colonists vs natives thing, they instead showed the cultural differences between two different tribes, which was incredible because it reinforced that diversity of culture that indigenous tribes had.