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itsstrange · 3 years

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Coffee Run & Green Eyes

Series: Spark Between Us

Relationship: Jensen Ackles x Skyline McNoir (OFC)

A/N: Hey everyone! I know it’s been a long time and I apologize for those waiting for more stories, but if you follow me on IG then you would know that this last week I was struck with a stomach flu which caused me to not have enough energy for various things. Luckily, I’ve recovered and feel much better. I also want to apologize to those who have requested me some stories, don’t worry I have Not forgotten about you! Just been dealing with some things!

But!! To not keep you guys in the dark I decided to post a Series I wrote for Ao3 on here, just to give y’all something to read meanwhile I work on some other works for y’all!! Hope y’all enjoy it!

Another thing, we have hit 105 followers y’all!!!! Thank you so much for all the love y’all continue in giving me!! I appreciate it so much!! 🥲💚

✨{Credits to owner for the gif}✨

Summary: Skyline McNoir tags along with a few friends who are attending a convention of some show she’s never watched. Little did she know, she would fall head over heels for the lead actor.

Word Count: 2.4 K

Warnings: Will contain Fluff, public sex, alcohol consumption, public fingering, just pure NSFW for all you Jensen fans out there 😊

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ENJOY!!

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The blasting chorus of Follow Me Now by Jason Gleed, wakes Skyline up. Her Hazel eyes glare straight ahead at the coconut cream wall for a few seconds before bringing the cover above her head, trying to muffled the music. Which didn’t help. At all. Then to make the morning less fun, her bed begins to shake violently by her best friend who’s jumping up down awhile singing at the top of her lungs. Skyline groans into the covers and tries to bury herself deeper into the warmth, but before she can even hide, the covers are being shoved off her form. A shiver runs throughout her body from the coldness in the room.

“C’mon Sky! Today’s the day!” Erin yells as she hovers above,

Skyline groans once again, eyes closed shut when it’s far too bright in the room “Five more minutes,”

“No come on,” Erin says, slightly pushing Sky’s body with her foot, “Tiffany and Laila are already downstairs grabbing breakfast,”

Still not moving, Erin shoves her body once again with her foot, when that didn’t do the trick an evil smirk spreads on her face. Grabbing an unused pillow, she raises it above her head before roughly slamming it against Sky’s head, causing her to jerk upright. With sleep still in her eyes, Sky is only able to squint at her best friend.

“Erin! What the fu-,” Her words were cut off when a large pillow smacks her in the face,

Erin chuckles at her, ignoring the death stare as she hops off her bed, “Chop chop.. we got a busy day today!”

With a roll of her eyes and a loud groan, Sky rolls off the comforter and towards the bathroom. After taking care of her regular morning routines, she hops in the shower. Erin’s music still blasted through the speakers, as Sky took a quick shower and she honestly hoped none of their neighbors complained about their disturbance, she knew she would have if she was trying to get a few more hours of shut eye.

That’s all she ever really wanted at the moment, sleep. After months of studying, exams, piles upon piles of work, and busting all nighters she was finally in winter break. The feeling of being able to come home for the holidays and spending those days with her family sounded amazing and relaxing. However, after the second day of being home, she gets a call from Erin. Mentioning something about having another extra ticket for a convention to meet the cast of some show she’s never watched. She kindly declined the offer, wanting to spend her days off with her family sounded like a much better idea than meeting unknown actors. However, Sky often forgets Erin is not the type to take no for an answer and demanded her to hand the phone over to her mother.

Thinking her mother would defend her and find a way to convince Erin to try and find someone else to take to the convention, Sky hands the phone over to her mother. You can only imagine who won that argument.

Once out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her body, Sky heads out the bathroom and towards her duffel bag. In the winter season of Austin, Texas, she decides on a plain long sleeve, black jeans, grey hoodie, black boots on her feet with a leather jacket on top. Once her hair is made and adds a couple splashes of makeup on her face, she grabs her phone and book from the small counter as she follows Erin out the room. After a few minutes later, they finally arrive in the breakfast buffet where Tiffany and Laila are already stuffing themselves with waffles and eggs. With a yawn, Sky makes her way over to the buffet with Erin right behind her. Once they both get their plates and sit down on the table, they dig in before getting on with their day.

****

8:45 am

“Oh my god!! I just hugged Speight!!” The sound of Laila coming around the corner interrupts Sky from her book,

The sight of Laila bouncing up and down on her feet with a wide grin makes a small chuckle escape from Skyline. As her friends beamed over this Speight guy, Sky returns her focus down on her book. Not really paying much attention at their excitement, but still having a smile on her lips as she reads the next chapter in her book. Even if she’s not having the same excitement as her friends, she is still having fun with them. Being around them in general for whatever reason always brightens her day. No matter how rough of a day she’s seems to be having, her girls always know just how to distract her and make her have fun.

“Ohh it’s almost time for Osric’s panel,” Tiffany says while looking down at her phone,

No longer able to focus on her book, Sky marks her spot before getting up from the floor.

“You guys go in, I’ve got auto’s for Kim at nine,”

It’s barely nine in the morning? Jesus. Sky thinks to herself, the day has felt extremely long she could have sworn it was already noon.

“Okay, let’s go Sky,” Laila motions her head to the side for her to follow,

“If you guys want me to continue tagging along, I’m gonna need an espresso,” Sky states, feeling yet another yawn creeping up her throat,

Her friends chuckle at her but agreed with her idea. They wouldn’t want her dragging her feet all over the convention, besides, coffee did sound like a great idea. Once writing down their preferred drinks in her notes, Sky leaves through the doors, down the steps and towards a coffee shop not too far away. It was only a couple blocks away, she should make it back in no time. Hugging her jacket closer to her body when the wind picks up, Sky quickens her movements to avoid its freezing weather but careful to not slip on the wet pavement. The last thing she needs is to fall flat on her ass, better yet get a concussion or go back home with a broken wrist.

Boy would her mom faint if she saw her daughter in a cast. Will most likely give her a lecture on why it’s important not to be on the phone during the most worst seasons. ‘If you weren’t on the phone this wouldn’t have happened Skyline’. Yep. She can definitely hear her ranting.

After a few blocks in the harsh winds, Skyline is finally reaching the small little coffee joint. Just as she reaches for the handle of the door, another, large, hand reaches at the same time. Thick fingers slightly touching her own, making her pull back with an apology.

“No it’s fine go ahead,” A deep voice says beside her, letting a shiver run down her body,

Most likely from the weather, what else would it be?

She looks up at the man. Dark beard, shades on his face, black hat on his head, with a black T-Shirt underneath a checkered navy flannel and black Levi’s jacket. Even under the dark shades she can tell he was good looking, handsome in fact.

“No you can go ahead,” Sky smiles at the man, stepping aside for him to enter,

He only shakes his head, gripping the door handle as he opens it for her, “Please I insist, my mom would throw a fit if she finds out I didn’t show my manners,”

Sky chuckles at him, “Well we wouldn’t want that now,”

The man chuckles back, smile forming on his lips. Man did that smile just make her stomach flip.

“No, we really wouldn’t,” Chuckling once more at him she accepts the offer with a thanks before entering the coffee shop,

As she walks inside, the change of temperature immediately hits her cold cheeks. Almost as if a heating furnace was suddenly shoved in her face, but she wasn’t complaining, the warmth was needed. Walking further into the coffee shop, she takes a glance over her shoulder to see if the man was behind her, but only lets a smile appear when she catches the moment of him allowing an elderly couple enter before him.

That’s sweet. She thinks to herself as she walks up to the counter. Once her drinks have been ordered and paid, she heads over to a small empty table near the window. Sitting on the chair she pulls out her book and continues where she left off as she waits for her drinks. A few minutes had passed and Sky was too engrossed in her book to notice her name being called out by the barista. Eventually though, she comes back to reality when someone places her drink in front her. Looking up from her book she meets eyes with bright emerald orbs, and noticing those breathtaking eyes belong to the same man from the door.

“I’m guessing your Skyline?,” The way her name rolls off his deep voice sends a shiver down her spine,

Definitely can’t be the air this time, absolutely not.

Eyeing the cup of coffee in front of her, she lifts a eyebrow at the man, teasing him. Even if she sees her name written on the side of the cup.

“And what makes you think that?” The way his lips slightly lift causes something to flip in her stomach,

Again.

“Well.. seeing how there’s hardly folks in here,” He looks around the shop for a few seconds before landing his eyes on hers again, “and you being the only one sitting down without a coffee.. I took a guess,”

Sky hums with a smile as she takes the cup, “Nice deduction,”

He shrugs a shoulder with a smile, “This seat taken?”

Sky shakes her head as she takes careful sips from her drink. With a small smile the man pulls out the chair with his other free hand, seeing how he has a cup of his own in one hand.

“I’m Ross by the way,” The man extends a hand once seated,

With a smile Sky accepts his hand, feeling it warm and rough as it wraps around her own.

“Nice to meet you,” Still smiling she pulls away from his firm hand,

“You around from here or just passing through?” He asks, taking careful sips from his cup,

Sky softly smiles at him as she wraps her hands around her coffee, trying to warm up her fingers.

“Born and raised,” He raises a brow at the small fact,

“No kidding?”

She nods, “Yeah but I’m just home for the holidays,”

He hums with a nod, “In the army or something?”

Sky couldn’t help the chuckle that escapes from her, definitely noticing how the corner of the mans lips slightly lift as well.

“More like college. My last year,”

“Really? What’re you studying?” He asks, taking another sip, never letting his eyes drift from her Hazel ones,

But does notice how they dart down towards his mouth before quickly looking back up to his eyes. A small smirk hides behind the cup, but doesn’t hide it when he pulls it away from his face.

“Biology,” He hums once again with a sincere smile, making her stomach flip,

It was such an odd feeling, especially when it was coming directly from a man she hardly knows. But for some reason, it felt right. Their conversations switched from topic to topic, never faltering. It just felt right, as if they were long time friends catching up with each other instead of two strangers who just met. Eventually, their conversation was cut short with the barista calling out her name once again with the rest of her drinks.

Getting up from her seat she walks over to the counter where her drinks waited. As she grabbed a cup holder and begins placing her drinks in each space, Ross, settles next to her. Getting a whiff of his cologne. Leaning on the counter he had both his and her coffee in either hand, which he hands over with a smile once all coffees were safely secured in place.

“I should get going,” She smiles up at his green orbs, and only then noticing how freckles are splashed on his face,

This man was literally dashing, no doubt about it.

“Yeah same here,” He says looking down at his watch, “Need a ride?”

She shakes her head with a smile, “I’m good thanks,”

“You sure? Heard it might rain,” He continues to lean on the counter as she places her coffee in an empty slot of the holder,

“I’m sure, it’s just a few blocks from here,”

“Well it can rain from those few blocks,” He argues as he gives her a smile, not wanting to end their little moment,

Neither did she, but she had friends waiting and the moment she tells them the reason why she took a little longer than expected, they wouldn’t leave her alone until she gives them the whole shebang.

She lets a small chuckle escape her lips as she picks up the coffees, “I’ll make a run for it,”

He softly chuckles at her comment, green eyes staring straight into her Hazel orbs that have slightly turned grey from her sweater. Definitely finding her and her eyes fascinating and beautiful.

“It was nice meeting you Ross,” She smiles at him as she walks away,

He smiles as he watches her, sending her a wave goodbye when she looks over her shoulder before walking out the door. Watching her leave didn’t feel like a loss, it felt the complete opposite actually. Why? Well for starters, he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he saw her considering she had the all too familiar Creation Entertainment wristband on her left hand. Also, he had her book inside his jacket, another reason on why he would see her again.

Both to retrieve her book and to have a reason to see her again. Don’t get him wrong, he was actually going to give it to her before she left, but the thought of holding it and having a reason to see her again sounded like great idea. He wanted to see her again, wanted to have a conversation longer than 10 minutes and just wanted to get to know her. She was different, in a good way, absolutely in a good way. The way she seemed to not know him or maybe she did but simply did not care made him feel relaxed, made him feel somewhat normal and he would give anything to feel that way again.

Even if it meant “stealing” her book to have an excuse to see her again.

PART 2

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-Hope y’all enjoyed this first part of the series!! Stay tuned for random updates for ‘Spark Between Us’ I won’t give an announcement on when I’ll update it so keep your eyes peeled on it!!

-Turn on Post Notifications!! 🔔 For more!!

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#jensen Ackles #jensen ackles x ofc #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles imagine #Jensen Ackles smut #smut #Spark Between Us Series #supernatural imagine #supernatural #supernatural smut #dean winchester #Dean Winchester x reader #the boys #the boys tv #the boys imagine #Soldier Boy

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

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tapestry 👑 IV

Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

This Chapter: The king sends a message.

Note: It’s part 4 and it might be a little longer before 5 because I work all night and have teaching work to catch up on tomorrow but hoping that Wednesday will be our next update. But I’m still loving this and hope you are too.

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply! Love ya!

The women tittered as they gathered in the feast hall in pairs and trios. You stood with Marion, her round face was carefree and eager for the day’s activities. The harvest celebration approached and so the Queen intended to arrange her annual spectacle.

The more plentiful the harvest the more extravagant the entertainment. This year had been generous; peasant and noble alike splendoured in the reaping. A selection of lords and ladies would perform a dance for the court, all the while dressed in costume.

You’d never been chosen before to partake in the display. You were clumsy and forgettable. You were content to sit and watch. This year was different; the queen herself requested your part. You loathed the prospect but accepted out of courtesy. After all, you’d rather the court laugh at your graceless feet than whisper of your alleged misconduct.

Rose preened as she always did. She was the best dancer of the bunch, no doubt she'd have a big role, even with her standing as the queen's rival. She was with Joan, Mary, and Beatrice; chattering behind their hands as if their topic were covert. They never strayed far from their gossip of the king. The gifts he sent to Rose and the ways he liked her to wear her hair.

Though it seemed she was not so giddy about him as before. At least, she showed off her pin quite passively. You recognized it. It wasn't new but it was still rather enviable. A ruby rose.

"Of course, the king has been distracted," Her voice rose above the rest. "The queen is jealous and she tries to draw him from me. She has pets of her own, you know?"

"Nothing compared to you," Beatrice trilled. "The king will catch onto that plain little tart. He will hear the queen's voice in hers."

You glanced over at the four ladies as they giggled. Rose's blue eyes met yours sharply. She grinned and raised her chin.

"Surely he will. He will realize soon enough and have me back in his arms. He thinks this trick will make me love him more but he does not know I love him more than anything already." She stared at you as she spoke. "I suspect he loves me too. It scares him so he shies away."

You turned your back to her. You didn't want to think of the king. Or recall the box and how it felt in your hands. The temptation to open it. The glimmer in his eye as you returned it to him. As you stood in the shadows, in his shadow, as he loomed over you.

"I know well enough of her type. And did you ever wonder why she's never even a proposal?" Rose raised her voice. "Simple enough to assume her hideousness, but a man can marry any woman so long as she promises him an heir." She spoke softly though her voice carried. "Gentleman don't marry whores, especially those without title or coin to offer."

"Lady Rose," The queen stood at the front of the hall. None had noticed her enter and so they acted as if they had not heard the gossiping mistress. All froze and turned to look at their leader. "My court is not a den of such ribaldry."

"Your highness," Rose squeaked as she bowed her head. "I did not--"

"Pray I never hear you speak thus again or you shall be sent back to your father's castle and I will make certain you will not see the light of this court again." The queen bristled as she neared the ladies. "Not even the convent will take you."

The ladies were silent. You gaped at the queen and she glanced at you among the group. She nodded subtly as she took a deep breath and stood staunch before her ladies-in-waiting.

"Now let us remember our manners as we are soon to welcome the king and his men. I will not have them think I lead a pack of vicious cats."

"I apologize most--” Rose began.

"I expect you to gird your tongue." Eleanor interjected. "Don't think I do not notice your insolence. Do not think yourself above my authority." The queen spun and motioned to Diana. "Show the dance master in. The king should arrive with his men shortly."

The room went silent and you looked to Marion. She was pale as she stared back at you. You slowly retreated to the wall and she followed. You were careful to stay far from Rose. You kept your head down and wished this all would be over soon. Perhaps Eleanor would see your footwork and dismiss you from the performance. It would be better for all.

“Do you think the queen knows of the gift?” Marion whispered.

“I hope not. And if she should, I would hope she would take into account my refusal.” You spoke with your face turned away from the room. “That she realizes I have no want of turmoil. No desire to wrong her.”

“Even so, the king has turned his eye on you. Any wife would be concerned.” Marion prodded.

“But I do not look back at him. I do not seek his attentions nor his company.” You played with the hem of your sleeve. “Let him run back to Rose and leave me as I was.”

“Do you think he will?”

“I dare not think if he should not.” You muttered. “I pray he does not.”

Marion could not pry further as the doors opened again. The dance master followed Diana through and a rise of voices sounded not far behind. Bawdy and bold. The king entered alongside Lord Barnes, the dozen other men trailed in a similar attitude. Boisterous as if it were the night of the banquet.

“Husband,” Eleanor greeted above the rabble. “At last.”

“My wife. We tarried at our game but we do hope you forgive us.” He peered around the room with a broad smile. You shied away before his eye could find yours. “Regardless of our delay, we are most excited to begin.”

“And I am certain Master Ellard is most impatient to begin,” Eleanor alluded to the dance master. “So shall we proceed?”

The king took her remonstrance with a nod. “As you will.” His voice betrayed an ounce of displeasure but he hid it with a gracious smile.

“We must first pair off,” The queen announced as she clapped her hands. “You shall be my partner, as custom should have it, the king and queen of the harvest.” Eleanor hooked her arm through the kings and led him to the front of the hall where Ellard waited with a pointed look.

“Lady Diana with Lord Callum, Lady Mabel with Lord Samuel…” She listed off the names one after the other and the pairs found each other. Your name rang in your ears and drew you from your place against the wall. “...Lord Barnes.”

The king’s brow rose as he watched his most favoured lord approach you. You avoided his gaze as it fell on you and Lord Barnes bowed to you. You curtsied and stood a foot apart from him. The queen beamed at you before she continued.

“Lady Rose with Lord Alan…”

Rose scowled as she swept across the room. The elder lord was a perpetual bachelor and an overt flirt, but he held high title and great lands. If he were to ever marry, his wife would want for little.

When all were assigned, Eleanor led Steven to the front row of the audience as Ellard took his place with his assistant. The queen was the first to mimic his stance as she took the king’s hand. The rest did the same but you didn’t move until you felt a tickle along the back of your hand.

“Pardon, my lady,” Barnes whispered. “But I think we’re supposed to follow along.”

You looked to him and nodded. You let him raise your hand and did your best to copy the first step, then the next. The master repeated each several times before moving on then counted as he strung together eight in a row. You chewed your lip as you struggled to avoid your partner’s feet and your own.

Your humiliation went on, several toes beneath your sole, before you remembered it well enough to look up. You peeked over at Lord Barnes but he seemed entirely unbothered by your assault. In fact he caught your eye and smiled.

“Your majesty,” Master Allard paused. “I think your lords and ladies might benefit from a brief respite.” He looked around the room. “And we may take it from the top after.”

“I am certain they would,” Eleanor said. “Let us resume shortly.”

She clapped her hands again and the audience let out a communal breath of relief. You rescinded your hand and pressed your sweaty palm to your skirt. Barnes remained at your side even as others began to shuffle around to meet each other.

“My lady,” He turned to you amid the shuffle, “I don’t know if you recall but we did share another dance. Once. Long ago.”

“I remember it, but not fondly,” You cringed. “I would’ve hoped you’d forget.”

“It was not so bad.”

“You swore each time I trod on your toes,” You remarked. “Though you seem to have learned to censor yourself.”

“You’ve improved...marginally.” He grinned. “The best partner’s are memorable, not perfect.”

You smiled as graciously as you could. You looked away shyly and found another watching. Steven stood with Eleanor though he barely seemed to notice her as she spoke to him. He stared openly across the hall and you tore your eyes away. You shifted and tried to hide behind Lord Barnes.

“You flatter me, Lord Barnes.”

“James,” He offered. “Many call me Bucky.”

“Lord Barnes.” You repeated.

He smiled at you and you glanced away again. His gaze was too much. You found Rose not far from you, another glare sent across the room. She watched the king with venom as he gawked at you. You pinched your finger nervously and tried to focus on the lord before you.

“I am sure you long for a more skilled partner,” You said. “I haven’t an inkling how I’ve come to be included in this.”

“Do you not?” He wondered. His brow twitched knowingly.

“I do not trouble to untangle the webs of court,” You mulled. “They are much too knotted to unwind.”

He nodded thoughtfully but before he could speak again, another clap sounded. The queen raised her hand to signal silence and called the room back to order. You inhaled as the king’s gaze lingered on you a moment before he turned his back.

Ellard took his spot before the rows of nobles and again your hand was seized. This time and unusual texture against your palm. You looked down as Lord Barnes let you go and you turned over the parchment. You gulped and quickly tucked the paper up your sleeve as he reached for you again.

You raised your eyes to his and he bowed his head.

“I have faith in you, lady,” He leaned in as he spoke. “With enough practice, any dance is done well enough to keep one’s toes from being trampled.”

👑

‘A woman unlike any I’ve ever known…’

You re-read the letter again. The same slanted hand as the first. You were tempted to hold it to the candle flame and leave it to ash. However you feared what should happen if you didn't even acknowledge the king's message. You couldn't ignore him.

You thought to show the queen. She had offered her help but you doubted she'd be amiable upon seeing a love letter from her husband to another woman. That's what it was; a love letter. The thought made you even more want to crumple it up.

What had you done to deserve his attention? What terrible sin had you committed that you were cursed to find yourself in one catastrophe after another? Your self pity threatened to drown you as you folded up the letter and shoved it in your journal and under your mattress. You longed to be the forgotten and unworthy.

You looked at the other ladies. Marion mended a stocking, Joan read some book or another, and Sybil laid on her back staring at the ceiling. You'd woken early for mass as you did every day and now you waited for the queen to send for you.

When a knock came, it was not the queen's lady servant. It was your father footman, Rulf. The older man was balding and crooked. He bowed slowly and coughed into his hand before he found his voice.

"My lady," He began. "Your father requests your presence."

"My father?" You frowned. "Has he stated his purpose?"

Rulf shook his head and grumbled. He turned back down the hall without awaiting your acquiescence. You sighed and followed him, pulling shut the door behind you. It was easy to catch up to him as he ambled stiffly along the corridor.

When he stopped before you father's chamber, you were antsy and impatient. Had your father heard of your disobedience? What other reason could there be for his summons? Yet, even with the prospect of his wrath before you, you did not regret it.

Rulf knocked softly before he entered. You stopped dead in the doorway as he waved you inward. Your father sat behind his desk but a visitor already occupied the seat across from him.

The king rose as you entered and your father mirrored him. You bowed and the king lowered his head. He beamed as he lifted his eyes and your father wore a self-satisfied smirk. Your lips parted then closed. You were entirely flustered.

"Forgive me, my lady, but since you requested a formal audience I have arranged this meeting." The king's irises thinned as he stared. "Your father has given his blessing."

"You...your highness," You stuttered and your father tilted his head in warning.

"Sit, daughter," Your father said sternly.

You hesitantly stepped inside. Rulf closed the door behind you. You went to the bench that sat not far from the king and sat. Both men watched you, each with their own expectations. Neither you longed to please.

"I do not mean to surprise you, I was only impatient," The king sat as your father remained on his feet. "I trust this setting should suffice and you've no reason to object."

You gulped and nodded. "Y-your highness," You stuttered. "I...do not."

"Forgive me but I have a pressing matter to attend to with Lord Hale. I shall leave Rulf to oversee this meeting if it suits you, your highness."

"It suits me well," The king didn't bother to look at your father.

It wasn't difficult to guess that this farce was staged. Rulf was growing deaf and barely aware. He came when called and did as he was bid. Nothing more or less.

Your father bowed and backed out from behind his desk. As he neared the door he glanced back at you. You sent him a pleading look, he returned a cold sneer. A silent warning before he slipped out into the hall.

"Your father is a busy man." Steven began. "A generous one, too."

"Your highness." You couldn't lie to the king so you didn't offer comment at all.

He shifted in his chair. "Did you read my letter?"

"I did." You answered tersely.

"And you…" He searched your face. "... didn't like it?"

"Your highness, you must understand that such a letter is untoward. You are married."

"To a woman who despises me. Who I can only visit on the duty of such a union, yet she bears me no heirs. She offers me no reciprocity." He leaned forward. "And so you see, I stray out of loneliness. Out of dejection."

"It does not change that you are married and I am unwed. I must reserve myself for my future husband." You said. "Or I haven't much of a future at all."

"Is it so wrong of me to desire your company? It need not be anything more than innocent? I long for a companion. For a respite from my loneliness."

"Perhaps that is your intent but it would not be the interpretation of the court." You insisted. "And what effect do you think it would have upon my reputation? You are a king, untouched by menial courtly intrigue but a lady, a mere daughter of an earl, could be ruined."

"You are repulsed by me." He sat back heavily, a pitiable expression lined his face. "You needn't lie, my lady. I may be a king but I can take it."

"You know that is not the reason for my reticence." You countered.

"Then what is it?" He asked as he slapped his hand on his thigh. "Is it truly my wife? Is it Lady Rose? Perhaps it is both." He huffed and hung his head dramatically. "You must know, they matter little to me. My queen is cold and hateful and the lady is selfish and ungiving. They bring me great pain. They torture me."

You shook your head. "And how should I measure your words as you speak of them thus? How am I to think that if I even thought to yield to you that you would not one day feel the same of me?" You stood. "I cannot."

He rose and came towards you. He reached out to you and his hand grazed your sleeve as you backed away. "I could never. You cannot possibly understand what you've done to me. I think of nothing else but you. I cannot rid myself of you no matter how I try. I think of my queen, of my obligation to her and my kingdom but you will not leave me."

"You do not know me. You cannot feel so." Your legs were pressed against the bench as you were trapped between him and it. "I will not betray myself nor my queen. I have never longed to be a mistress but a wife only."

He took your hand and you resisted the urge to draw away from him. His thumb brushed over your fingers as he admired them. You trembled though you tried not to. His grip tightened suddenly.

"Perhaps you've never dared to long for it," His voice was as steely as his grip. His eyes flicked up to yours. "But you will be mine. As your king, I will it."

You tugged until he released you. Rulf cleared his throat, whether it was coincidence or discomfort, you didn't care. The noise had the king retreating.

"I swear to you, my lady, that nothing, no one, can keep me from you." He puffed his chest out. "And you need not fear whatever enemies arise for I will strike them down."

"Your highness, that is not…"

"I can be patient, for you my lady, I can wait," He vowed. "I will wait so long as you should need me to."

Your mouth fell open. You couldn't guess if he was mad or maniacal. Surely his words were anything but genuine. You could barely speak.

"Your highness, you cannot."

"I shall, I shall," He insisted. "My queen be damned. Lady Rose too." He declared as he turned to march to the door. He turned back and placed his hand on his chest. "None but you, my lady."

He pulled the door open. You were dumbfounded. All you could do was bow as he departed. His boots sounded down the corridor and Rulf coughed. You looked to the aged servant as his eyes drooped. Was he asleep on his feet?

"My lady," He said quietly. "I daresay he meant it."

You lowered your head and sighed. Your father's mole had heard it all. No doubt he'd relay it back to his master. You righted yourself and stilled your shaking hands.

"Tell my father I regret that I could not await his return but the queen should wonder at my absence." You neared the door, your feet tentative as they traced the king's. "Thank you, Rulf."

"My lady," He nodded as his eyes once more turned to slits. "I will let him know."

#Steve Rogers #king!steve #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #medieval au #au #series #fic #tapestry #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #mcu #marvel #dark!fic #captain america #dark fic #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes

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feather-dancer · 4 years

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Trollhunters Fanfic Recommendations - Part 3

Somehow there is now a third one of these because I read far far too much fanfic and have no regrets about it. It’s with great pleasure I can also announce I’ve been digging around for Trans Jim fics and found some gems while I was at it that have been included below.

You can find Part 1 of my fanfic recommendations here!

And Part 2 here!

Plus one shameless plug for my own current fics.

General Trollhunters

(And you're my Arcadia.) - All you need to know is it’s Jilaire post Season 3 and one line in particular made me burst out laughing.

Bitter[sweet] - Sometimes the thing you need most is just a really good friend when your body plain sucks. Contains Trans Jim and is delightful.

the red book - Far beyond the humble days of Season 3 and after living beyond his human family and friends, Jim has started to forget who he was and that he was ever just a human kid.

The Halls of Arcadia High - When Strickler disappeared in Season 1, his absence was felt in many ways even in the form of a humble piano left un-played.

Not - Not!Enrique isn’t his name yet it’s what they call him anyway. An albatross reminding him of what was taken before he even had a chance to start.

On the Radio - The final telling of the Janus Order.

Gay stories for Tales of Arcadia - Yeah I’m pretty sure you can guess where this is going, LGBTQ+ rep!

Through the Fires - There was a before time, one where Gunmar still roamed free and Deya had yet to be chosen let alone felled. These are the words of the humble witnesses of that war, from the changelings to the trolls who would oppose them.

Trollhunters: A Series of Disjointed Drabbles - This is so cute and fluffy I might just spontaneously combust.

Insomnolence - It is after the final battle and Jim has a lot of thoughts.

another tragedy - Anxiety is a bastard, it gives a lot of bad thoughts but sometimes there is a little bit of truth buried beneath it all and it whispers all about how you can keeping doing the wrong things for the right reasons. Season 2.

i will always hold you close (but i will learn to let you go) - Sometimes the hardest thing you can do is learning when to let go. Sometimes however, even when you want to they hold back even tighter. Season 2.

your eyes look like coming home - Toby has been the witness from the start of just how close Jim has been to death multiple times over and how Jim he is about the whole thing. It scares him how this time might be it, again and again. Season 2.

The Collected Tellings of Shigir and Other Changeling Folktales - I don’t actually know which category to put this under so I’m going the to heck with it route instead. Does exactly what it says on the tin for your Changeling lore needs, some of which will be off-hand mentioned or outright appear during the fantastic Terpsichore - The Comedy of the Danse Macabre - ACT I.

Please note: The main fic is Stricklake if that’s not your cup of tea, the folktales however can be enjoyed regardless.

~~~

Stricklake

all that dazzling dawn has put asunder - The sequel to in my sleep i dreamed of waking, this is filled with delightful fluff, internal panicking and the joys of trying to explain how you’re a not and how that does not change the fact Strickler is still a was. Being a changeling in these strange after times are difficult even before the other baggage involved but at least you're still here to start.

Two Pisces in Alto Mare - When in Rome as part of a study trip abroad, you meet the most curious people sometimes and by fluke or nature you may even do so more than once.

Filling The Gaps - Possibly a bit of an unusual mention but! These are little pieces of Fallout that were going on while our eyes were following elsewhere and boy it can hurt.

Rehearsals and DvD Bonus Features - Another from the home of Terpsichore - The Comedy of the Danse Macabre - ACT I which is being listed here because it does have Stricklake in it. Some things don’t make the cut with writing fanfic, either because the plot wandered off, it doesn’t fit right or it’s some backstory you haven’t quite figured out where it can be naturally brought up yet and in this case they’ve found themselves a home. Be warned, one particular chapter is explicit and has been marked as such in warnings in the chapter summary.

~~~

Alternate Universes

(Un)Becoming - Not technically an AU in the conventional sense but I’m putting it under here anyway. It’s Unbecoming, as ever the road to hell is paved with good intentions but as Jim threw in the towel the storm that’s coming will not be stopped. However, what if others caught glimpses of a world that still had a human Trollhunter to defend it?

Steve the Kind - Steve became the Trollhunter but how the adventure unfolds differently than when Jim was at the helm might just surprise you. Very slow burn Steve and Jim that in a rather refreshing change doesn’t throw Claire under the bus for it to happen. Praise be.

31 Days in the Darklands - Strickmar that somehow kinda works?? It helps with Gunmar having the space to breathe outside of getting Morgana out and be more of his own character. Storywise, in order to rescue Jim from the Darklands Strickler broke a deal that would cost his own freedom and now has to somehow maintain a treaty between three very different factions all the while keeping his own neck intact. The intense distrust in changelings continues on to boot but hey, nobody said politics was easy.

Building Bridges - So Gunmar is distinctly of the more Eldritch variety with dream powers, the ability to easily see through lies for the true emotions and thoughts, Bular has the Insight as well to a lesser extent and everyone has somehow managed to hop onto Stricklander’s bandwagon of we must protect Jim Lake Jr. at all costs. Now the race is on as both sides try to sway the young Trollhunter to their way of thinking and the Trollmarket has no idea how dangerously badly they’re doing so far.

Lost Souls - A fic written in variable snapshots. Jim was kidnapped and changed by Merlin far earlier to be his Champion to ensure he did the “right thing” while Barbara in desperation to find her son falls into the hands of Morgana thus mother and son become enemies without even realising it.

Faithfully - Barbara died overseas and yet somehow Jim still managed to make his way back to Arcadia to become the next Trollhunter. This road is far harder for it as a seemingly homeless orphan though on the flipside he keeps on acquiring dads. Contains Trans Jim, timeline variable snapshots and I love it very much.

The Burning - There was a fire, it killed Barbara and Jim was thought dead as well. Nobody could have guessed the feral half changeling that is running around like a cryptid is the very much alive Jim.

Finding Daylight - Jim is a very low ranking changeling, terrified of Bular and his home amounts to little more than a spot in the woods. Things started to go pear shaped for him when he accidentally stumbled over Blinky and only more so when the amulet picks him after Kanjigar is felled. Tis not a kind world for a changeling child out there and he has nobody really to help watch his back until he stumbles on a potential maybe.

~~~

The bonus shoutout for an excellent MSA fic

A Sleep Like Death - Who wouldn’t want to go visit a tower you’ve inherited apparently and has haunted as all hell all over it? Not Vivi that’s for sure. Poor Arthur is just along for the ride and then things start to get really weird when they find it’s still occupied and thinks Arthur is his jailor.

#Trollhunters

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violent-optimism · 4 years

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Rey as a Palpatine and Why it’s Grown on Me

Hello my lovelies!

I think it’s been quite a while since I posted any kind of essay on here. Between work and other things I honestly haven’t had much time for it. However in recent days I’ve felt very motivated to work on a very particular kind of essay; a subject that I’ve been stewing over since December of last year.

Obviously from the title you already know what I’m going to be talking about. I’m not going to deny that this is a rather heated subject for some Star Wars fans, particularly those who disliked this plot choice and The Rise of Skywalker in general. As per usual in my essays, my goal is not to change anyone’s mind or argue over who’s opinion is “more right”. Plain and simple, this is just going to be me talking about MY thoughts and MY observations about Rey’s journey and lineage in The Rise of Skywalker. I hope this doesn’t need to be said but if you read something in this essay that you disagree with, I politely ask that you keep it to yourself and move on. At the end of the day, we are just talking about a movie, and this is all just for fun.

Now, with that being said, let’s get started! This essay is definitely going to be a bit more structured than my usual efforts and I hope this will result in a much more straightforward and clear-cut essay. Enjoy!

1. My Initial Reaction

While I don’t want this to be a major part of the essay, I do think it makes sense to start this off with a little story about the time I first saw TROS in the theatre. I can remember it pretty well. My whole body was tense, my eyes glued to the screen for what I knew was about to be some kind of major reveal in the story (even if it felt very late in the film for such a scene). Then came those shocking and irreversible words from Kylo Ren: “You’re his Granddaughter. You are a Palpatine.”

Wait…what?

My mind recoiled at this statement. My heart sank into my stomach with complete rejection. This can’t be right. He must be lying. I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. A man behind me just snorted with laughter and I can totally see why. Rey being related to Palpatine sounds more like a crazy Youtube fan theory than something that could actually be canon in the Star Wars universe. We had always thought she might be related to Luke or even Obi-Wan, but…Emperor Palpatine? Darth Sidious? No, just no.

So yeah, suffice to say that my first reaction towards this plot twist was not very positive. I admit that even once the movie was over, I still didn’t like this reveal. I don’t even think I began to warm up to it until my 3rd or 4th viewing of TROS. I had become so used to the idea that Rey had no special lineage and she was just a very force-sensitive girl from nowhere that it was extremely hard to let go of that. And honestly, if JJ and everyone else involved had chosen to keep it that way, I would have been perfectly content. So why…you might ask, has Rey’s true lineage grown on me in the last several months?

Now, don’t get me wrong…there’s still a part of me that thinks it was a very odd choice to introduce a reveal like this considering what happened in the previous installment. However…this fact has already been discussed to death and this essay is intended to be more of a story exploration rather than a critical film review. So let’s talk more about Rey being Palpatine’s Granddaughter and how I have actually grown to love the idea.

2. Rey’s Journey

Throughout the trilogy, Rey has had to overcome quite a few challenges in her path to becoming a Jedi. Her journey has been one of mostly self-discovery and personal growth. In The Force Awakens, Rey discovers that she is strong in the force and can do things she never imagined. In The Last Jedi, Rey’s strength in the force grows stronger and she learns to accept that her parents were nobodies and that some things do not turn out the way we expect.

And so, thematically, it would almost seem like Rey has reached the end of her character arc. This is Rey at her most powerful. There’s nothing left to learn, and there are no more secrets to be revealed…right? Well, we know that this is not the case. Even from the first scene with Rey we know that something is wrong. She knows that something is wrong. There is a darkness inside of her; she fears for her destiny and who she is meant to become. It’s not until later that we understand why these feelings have come to the surface.

Up until TROS, we didn’t truly know who Rey was or where she came from. However, by this point in the story anyone should be able to describe her as a character. Kind. Brave. Resourceful. Curious. Compassionate. Strong. Rey has proven time and time again that she is an incredibly kind and capable individual who wants to do the right thing. Although both TLJ and TROS strongly hint towards Rey possibly turning to the dark side, we know that our protagonist never actually would because we know who Rey is.

And this a huge reason as to why the Rey Palpatine reveal works so well for me. There is an incredible juxtaposition with Rey being the most heroic, kind-hearted person imaginable, and yet she is related to the most evil man in the galaxy. There is something deeply profound about the last living Jedi having Sith blood in her veins. Part of the reason why this reveal is so shocking is because the two characters are complete polar opposites in terms of good and evil. Rey is absolutely nothing like Palpatine and so the familial connection seems impossible. It doesn’t just seem like an unlikely truth, it feels entirely incorrect. And yet, that is also what makes it (again, in my opinion) so interesting and bold.

3. Meaning and Impact

Apart from giving Rey one last emotional challenge in the final installment, I think this choice was made for other reasons as well (3 to be precise).

1. It made Rey even more similar to Kylo as he too is grappling with the dark influence from his Grandfather

2. This decision subverts a long-existing trope in fantasy stories

3. Used to further tie the 9 films together as a story about the Skywalker and Palpatine bloodlines

Since The Force Awakens, it was made very clear early on that Rey and Kylo were connected in some way; their destinies were intertwined. Although this was further explored in TLJ, we would not truly understand just how similar their journeys would become until the final installment. The dynamic between Rey and Kylo is infinitely interesting because at first glance they seem like completely opposite people, when in reality they share a very similar struggle, especially in The Rise of Skywalker.

Both Rey and Kylo experience the overwhelming darkness of their respective families. Kylo even says it quite bluntly before the lightsaber duel on the ruined Death Star: “The dark side is in our nature, surrender to it.” He is quite obviously trying to use Rey’s lineage against her in an attempt to turn her over to his side. What makes this so interesting is that we know Kylo himself is not yet completely taken over by the dark side. Despite his evil deeds, he has always been conflicted during this story.

When Rey finds out that she is related to Emperor Palpatine, she becomes withdrawn, angry, afraid and unstable. This is the closest to the dark side that we have ever seen Rey at. Indeed there are some moments where she almost seems to be channeling behaviour that would be more suited for Kylo (snapping at her friends, using anger as power). Although Rey eventually comes to her senses and realizes what is happening to her, she was clearly affected by her Grandfather’s dark influence, just as Kylo was.

Despite the fact that both Rey and Kylo come from families with a history of the dark side, the film makes it very clear that one character’s lineage is far “worse” than the other. This is where the subversion of a common fantasy trope takes place. Now, to be clear, this is only my interpretation and I don’t claim this to be exactly what the filmmakers were going for; however this subversion is yet another reason why I enjoy the Rey Palpatine reveal.

How many times have you watched a movie or a TV show where a character’s lineage was a significant part of the story? It’s probably more times than you can count on one hand, right? My point is that the idea of a character’s lineage/family history becoming a main plot element in a story is nothing new, we’ve seen this before a million times. For example, in Disney’s “Tangled” (2010) Rapunzel learns that she is the long lost princess who was taken away from her family when she was an infant. Disney influence aside, does this sound somewhat similar to Rey’s story? Yes, it absolutely does…but not in the traditional or conventional sense.

This is where Rey Palpatine (for me at least), becomes extremely appealing. This reveal is like the evil, twisted version of a heroine discovering that she is the secret heir to a royal family. And instead of the protagonist being overjoyed and enlightened by this information, the reveal comes with great personal shock and emotional turmoil. In this case, Rey is the Granddaughter of Emperor Palpatine, which essentially makes her Sith royalty if we’re being really comparable. Am I the only one who (for lack of better words) thinks this is insanely cool? Not only is it a direct subversion of a very common story trope, it directly ties into Kylo’s arc and it also parallels Luke’s family revelation in “The Empire Strikes Back.” Coincidentally, this also makes Rey’s journey similar to Luke’s in that regard, but I’ll get back to that later.

Now as you’ve probably heard before, as we look back on all 9 films in the Star Wars saga we can see that this is clearly a story about the Skywalker and Palpatine families. Granted, the Palpatine bloodline is largely unexplored in comparison to the former. We know that Rey’s Father was the son of the Emperor, but we still don’t know his name or who he really was. Ultimately this information is not relevant to the story as a whole, but it’s clear that Emperor Palpatine has been pulling the strings throughout basically the entire saga.

More specifically, Palpatine himself has always been tied to the Skywalkers. He seduced Anakin Skywalker to the dark side and later tried to do the same to Luke. Via Snoke he was also able to turn Ben Solo, who shares a dyad with Rey, Palpatine’s Granddaughter. It kind of comes full circle and it’s really quite clever in my opinion. The Villain of the ST is related to the Heroes of the OT, and the Hero of the ST is related to the Villain of the OT (Did I just blow your mind?).

Put simply, Rey being a Palpatine makes a lot more sense thematically when you examine the story that came before her. Families are complicated and messy, especially in Star Wars. Rey’s experience echoes this, but in a much darker and harsher way. Her journey is meant to resemble Luke Skywalker’s in many ways, but their stories do have differences. In Luke’s case, he actually got to see and interact with Anakin, the real face of who his Father was. Anakin Skywalker was certainly not a perfect person, but in his last moments he turned to the light and saved his son’s life.

Rey, of course, did not get to experience a moment even close to this. Palpatine is about as evil as evil gets. There is no hope or chance of redemption. She was forced to look upon her own flesh and blood and see nothing but a monster. It would be unfair to turn this into a competition of “who had the most devastating family reveal”, but the point I’m trying to make is that Rey and Luke’s journeys are undeniably similar, which serves to further strengthen the connection of Skywalker and Palpatine in these 9 films.

4. Conclusion: The Power of Choice

I feel I must end on the note of choice, because this is how The Rise of Skywalker chooses to end. Despite everything I have mentioned and how much I have grown to love the idea of Rey Palpatine, there is something that I love much more than this: Rey Skywalker. Even just reading it or saying it out loud fills with me an indescribable amount of joy.

To put it bluntly, Rey did not have an easy life. In fact, she probably had one of the most challenging upbringings of any Star Wars protagonist. Yes, Anakin was a slave at a very young age, but he also had friends and a mother who supported him. Luke was even better off with a relatively normal childhood, friends and parental figures who loved him as if he was their own son.

Rey had nothing and no one.

She was forced into a life of struggle and hardship, not by choice, and certainly not by her parents’ choice. Although they loved and cared for her, she would never feel this or know it to be true until much later in life. Rey did not choose where she came from, nor could she choose who she was related to. This is perhaps the most powerful and meaningful message that one could take away from the Sequel Trilogy: You cannot choose the circumstances of your childhood, nor can you choose who you are related to by blood. However, you can choose your destiny, you can choose who you want to be, and you can choose who you consider to be your family.

Rey had all the makings of a villain, but she chose to be a hero. A Sith that chose to be a Jedi. A Palpatine that chose to be a Skywalker. It doesn’t matter where you come from, only where you’re going. At the end of the day, it’s up to you to decide who you want to be. That is a beautiful thing.

Well folks, it took me a long time to get here but we’re finally at the end. I hope this essay was able to make some kind of a comprehensible point. Even if you didn’t agree with anything I said, I hope it was still something that made you think. It was quite a lot of fun to really delve into this topic and explore every microscopic detail. I sure hope it made sense, and if not, I’ll try to do better next time.

Thank you so much for reading! Bye for now.

#star wars #rey #rey palpatine #rey skywalker #TROS #please don't hate me!

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atamascolily · 4 years

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After Ursula K. Le Guin died, I made an agreement with myself I would read anything and everything she'd written as the chance arose. That said, Searoad: Chronicles of Klatsand probably would have been the last on my list, had I not stumbled across a paperback copy in a library booksale (in pre-pandemic times) in a "fill a paper bag for $10" sale and it languished in my TBR pile for months before I finally got around to it.

The reason? Genre snobbery, in reverse of the usual direction. Searoad is a collection of short stories published in magazines like The New Yorker, and fancy-sounding publications with Review in their names. Serious publications publishing so-called "literary" fiction, or maybe "realistic fiction" or just plain fiction--fiction that's supposed to tell-it-like-it-is, lay bare the inadequacies of modern life, and leave you feeling empty and unfulfilled after watching empty and unfulfilled people make poor decisions in futile attempts to fill the emptiness and inadequacies of their lives. Because that’s the whole point of literature, right?

Oh. Perhaps I'm generalizing. But so it feels to me whenever I dip into one of these publications. They are "literature", everything else is "genre": romance, science-fiction, fantasy, action, adventure, thriller, mystery, crime. "Literary" fiction is usually just plain old "fiction" in the library classification systems and in common parlance: it is assumed to be the norm, the default, from which everything else is a deviation. And I hate this. I've always hated this.

To write about petty modern people with their petty modern lives is one thing--we all have our kinks--but to disdain others for imagining different things, for epics and grandeur and you-could-have-anything-so-why-not-go-for-it always struck me as a deep failure of, and disdain for, imagination. Genres, like so much else in our lives, are social constructs: us and them, the have and the have-nots. Literary fiction are the "haves", everything else is the "have-nots". That's changing, obviously, and the boundaries aren't as rigid as they once were, but I still see that divide reflected in so-called "serious" publications, and I generally avoid them.

Ursula K. Le Guin has always hugged the boundaries between "pure" genre (aka trashy, flashy, unfit for serious folk in the eyes of the pedants) and "literary merit". She's been accepted and respected by both camps, although the "literary" folks speak of the sci-fi rather patronizingly in their reviews of her works. Le Guin, however, never disdained the sci-fi labels in the same way that Margaret Atwood--another boundary-spanning writer--has always done.

For this reason, I've retained infinitely more respect for Le Guin than Atwood, despite Atwood's considerable talents as a writer. Atwood wants to play with sci-fi tropes, but she doesn't have the backbone to stand up and be proud of it. Atwood wants to write science fiction but not be judged for it, and the easiest way to do that (since genres are a social construct) is just to firmly insist that it's not sci-fi at all--move along, nothing to see here.

Here's a blurb on the back of my copy of Searoad by Carolyn Kizer, a Pulitzer-prize winning poet from the Pacific Northwest:

"For a number of years, the only science-fiction I read was that of Ursula K. Le Guin. I don't read science-fiction any more, thought I wouldn't think of missing a book of Le Guin's. She has transcended the genre..."

How very generous and open-minded of you to only read science-fiction so elevated it “transcends” its genre entirely, thereby becoming worthy of notice. And this is supposed to make me like literary fiction?

That said, the irony is that Kizer’s statement sums up my approach to non-genre stuff as well, although I would not have phrased it quite so baldly. More like “Okay, not usually my cup of tea--but if it’s you, it’s okay....” The genre transcending thing, as much as I despise the phrasing, works both ways here.

All this is to say I finally read Searoad, even though I had to coax myself into it by pretending that this was an alien society that Le Guin and I were exploring together in order to tell us stuff about our own, and that helped. It also helped because the stories were so damn good, and I got carried away, even though they are very literary stories, with ambiguous endings, the usual focus on unexpressed and/or self-destructive emotions of love, birth, and death, and no magic or wizards or dragons whatsoever.

(To repeat: I am a genre snob who has never understood why writing without dragons was inherently better than writing with dragons in it. I have always operated under the principle that dragons made everything better. And I have never understood why depicting the world as it is was a stroke of literary genius, if all you were going to do with it it is show people being unhappy in the usual old ways instead of unusual ways. Or even imagine something new and different!)

Searoad reminds me of Lake Wobegon a little, but that's only because it's a small town, with characters from one story popping up in others in the most unexpected places--just like small town life. After a while, it feels like we're constantly running into old friends, a shared world--real, but in a good way. The stories were published across a wide range of outlets from 1987-1991, yet flow into each other astonishingly well when read in rapid succession, or indeed, in any order at all.

My favorite is "True Love," which is all about ditching unsatisfying conventional relationships to focus on one's true passion instead:

For me, sex is sublimation. Left to itself, in its raw, primitive state, my libido would have expend itself inexhaustibly in reading.

And since I have been a librarian ever since I was twenty, I can truly compare my life to that of some pasha luxuriating in his harem--and what a harem! Half a million mistresses, when I was at the Central Library in Portland! A decade-long orgy! And during the school year, since I teach now at the Library School, I have access to the University Library. Here in Klatsand where I spend the summers, the harem is very small and a good many of the houris are rather out of date, but then so am I. My lust has lessened somewhat with the years. Sometimes I imagine I could be contented with a mere shelf of tried, true, and highly selected Scheherazades, with only now and then a pretty little novel to flirt with, or a volume of new poetry to make me cry out with excess of pleasure in the heart of the night.

And in the same story, Le Guin makes it clear she's one of us:

"Do you like science fiction" I asked her, because all I can really talk about is books. And of course, she couldn't talk about books. That had been knocked out of her years ago. We compromised on "Star Trek," new and old. She liked the new series as well as the old one. I liked the old one better. Antal stared, not at Rosemarie, only at me. "You watch it?" he said. "You watch television?"

I didn't answer. ... I was not going to let him try to shame us for our commonness.

"The one I liked best was the one where Mr. Spock had to go home because he was in heat," I said to her.

"Except, he never, you know," she said. "They just had a fight over the girl, him and Captain Kirk, and then they left."

"That's his pride," I said, obscurely. I was thinking how Mr. Spock was never unbuttoned, never lolled, kept himself shadowy, unfulfilled, and so we loved him. And poor Captain Kirk, going from blonde to blonde, would never understand that he himself loved Mr. Spock truly, hopelessly, forever.

Reader, I LOLed. Because it's true. You know it, I know it, and so does Le Guin. And she had the guts to say so in the Indiana Review, and the editors published it. LEGEND.

Like all of Le Guin's writing, the stories in Searoad are lyrical, elegant, soaring, and moving--sympathetic, yet unafraid to call out bad behavior and terrible things when she sees it. My other favorite story, "Sleepwalkers," is a brilliant example of this: it starts with a complaint by a privileged male playwright about the housekeeper at his summer cabin, only for us to quickly learn (if his tone and phrasing didn't give it away) that he's an arrogant asshole who sees only what he wants to see and misses what's actually in front of him. We then pivot to a number of other people at the little resort, and their views of the housekeeper, and we're left with an open question at the end: which view is more accurate? Which story do we believe? What is actually going on? Can any of us really know or understand the hidden depths within another person? It's so deep and lush and well-written, and even funny on occasions.

And there's also a diversity of viewpoints and perspectives and scenarios enough to keep me interested: a lesbian grieves the death of her long-time partner, a war veteran deals with PTSD, a college student runs off into the woods to secretly map illegal old-growth logging stands, a ghost appears in a late-night diner to a sexual-abuse victim. The ghost thing seems like it ought to fall under genre conventions, but doesn’t because of the framing, and yet it still works for me--another example of Le Guin’s skill.

Anyway, so Le Guin actually made me enjoy so-called "literary" fiction and that was unexpected and delightful. Regardless of my feelings about most "realistic" fiction, I'm glad I read this collection.

#book reviews #Ursula K. Le Guin #searoad #fandom life #writing life

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quickspinner · 4 years

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Take a Chance - Ch 1 First Meetings

Summary: Lukanette college AU. It all starts with a little mix-up. One look in her notebook and Luka is intrigued. One look in her eyes - and he’s in love.

This story came from the prompts for the first week of Lukanette September 2019. I was still pretty new to posting my stories and I wasn’t confident committing to the whole month but I figured, I could manage a week!

This story is complete on AO3

Marinette didn’t get a lot of phone calls, and she never got calls in the middle of the day. She stumbled a bit as she tried to get her phone out and walk at the same time. The number on the screen wasn’t a known contact, but it looked familiar. Wasn’t that Juleka’s number? But then why wouldn’t it show up under Juleka’s name? Frowning, she answered the call, trying not to sound too breathless. “Hello?”

“Uh, hi, I’m looking for Marinette?” The voice was male, so, definitely not Juleka.

“I’m Marinette,” she said cautiously.

“Cool, I’m Luka, I’m Juleka’s brother? I think we might have met once a few months back.”

“O-oh,” Marinette stammered, confused.

“Jules gave me your number because I have something of yours and I’m kinda hoping you have something of mine. A plain black notebook that basically looks exactly like yours, except mine has music inside instead of clothes. Sound familiar?”

“Oh gosh—um, hang on, let me check.” Marinette dug through her bag and pulled out her sketchbook. She flipped it open and her stomach dropped as she found that it wasn’t hers at all. It was full of music notations and scribbled notes that might have been song lyrics. “Yes, I have it,” she confirmed. “I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz. You live with Juleka right? I was over there this morning and I knocked over a stack of things and I thought I put it all back but I must have switched these. I hope you didn’t need it, I’m so sorry—“

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Luka said, soothingly, a touch of amusement in his warm voice. “As long as you have it, that’s fine. I do kind of need it tonight though, is there somewhere I can meet you and trade?”

“Um, let me think. I’m on my way to class now...it’s Tuesday, so my next break is at 3.”

“Okay, I’m in class until 3:30, but I could meet you right after? Um...there’s a coffee shop near the music building, do you know it? I can’t remember the name, but it has a red awning. I can meet you there after my class is over.”

“That sounds perfect,” Marinette agreed. “I know the place, I’ll meet you there.”

“Great.” Luka seemed to hesitate. “Okay, I hope this isn’t weird, but I was wondering if I could look at some more of your sketches? I only saw a few before I realized it wasn’t mine and found your name, but they looked really cool and I’m really curious to see the rest.”

Maybe it was a little weird, but it was also flattering. Marinette appreciated that he asked instead of just snooping through and not mentioning it. “Um, sure, there’s nothing really personal in it, just designs for one of my classes.”

“All art is personal,” Luka said easily, and then she heard someone calling to him. “Shit, you’re right,” he said, voice a bit distant before returning. “Marinette, I’m sorry, I’ve got to go before I’m late. I’ll see you a little after 3:30.”

“Okay, see you then,” Marinette replied, half expecting him to hang up before she finished speaking.

Instead she heard, “See you soon, Marinette,” before the line cut out.

***

Luka headed to the coffee shop with a quicker step than strictly necessary after escaping yet another boring, pedantic lecture from his least favorite professor. He hadn’t even heard half of it, fascinated by the book in his hand. He knew less than nothing about fashion in general and even less than that about the process of design, but there was so much life in the sketches covering the pages of the misplaced notebook. He couldn’t judge her talent, but Marinette’s passion was clear and he was curious about the girl behind the designs.

He found her easily enough, sitting in a booth facing the cafe’s entrance, his composition book placed prominently towards the edge of the table. For a moment, he felt disappointment. He wasn’t sure what he expected, and there was nothing wrong with her exactly, but...she didn’t really stand out, dressed in shades of pink and black, sweet but without any of the edge he’d seen in her art.

But it wasn’t like him to judge on appearances and he silently berated himself as he made his way over to the table. “Marinette?”

Then she looked up and locked eyes with him, and the deep blue of the sea fell into the endless blue of the sky and he swore he heard music.

***

Marinette had met Juleka’s brother once before, if you could call a hurried introduction and hello-goodbye a meeting, as he was rushing out to perform with his band. All she was really left with was the impression of blue, and lean muscles highlighted by body glitter.

She could see neither muscle nor glitter at the moment, but the blue was there, in his eyes and the tips of his shaggy hair. He wasn’t classically handsome but he had an interesting face, and she thought to herself that she’d like to dress him. It would be a nice change from cookie cutter models and he looked like he had a fun style.

He smiled and gestured at the empty bench across from her. “I’m Luka. May I?”

“Oh sure, of course,” she said quickly, shuffling her things ineffectually before realizing there was plenty of room. He slid in across from her, sleepy eyes a deeper shade of blue than her own fixed on her. She blushed faintly without really knowing why and his eyes flicked away.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he said. “I hope It wasn’t too far out of your way.”

“No, it wasn’t too far, and I’ve gotten some work done, so it’s all good. I’m so sorry about the mixup.”

He took her book out of his bag and slid it across the table towards her. “Thanks for letting me look at it. Way more interesting than my music theory class.”

“Oh,” Marinette blushed deeper. “A-are you interested in fashion?”

“No,” he admitted. “Honestly I never thought about it much, I just wear things that are comfortable and make me feel good. But I am interested in art, and I can see now that fashion is art too. So, thanks. For...a new perspective, I guess.”

Marinette couldn’t help smiling, there was something so sincere about the way he said it. He must have a really interesting way of looking at the world.

Which maybe shouldn’t surprise her so much. Juleka was hardly known for conventional thinking.

“I wish I could get as much from yours,” Marinette said, gesturing towards his notebook where it still lay on the table. “Not—not that I looked through it or anything, but just what I saw when I opened it, It’s only gibberish to me, I’m afraid.”

Luka smiled slowly. “You think so?” For a moment Marinette was afraid she’d insulted him, but he only took his notebook up and turned the pages for a moment. Then he laid it back down and turned it so she could see the open pages. “What do you see here?”

She looked, and at first it was only gibberish, as she’d said, a mix of notes and musical terms, with occasional notes that made sense but didn’t, like “dark, flash flood, drowning.” Marinette glanced up at Luka, who was watching her with a small smile on his face. She looked down at the page again, and this time she noticed the dark lines and deep grooves, the places where things were not just crossed out, but scratched through or scribbled black. The whole feel of the page was frustration, maybe even anger. “This,” she said slowly, looking up at him. “This was not a good day.”

Luka’s smile widened. “See? You can’t read the notes, but the feelings still come through. I felt the same way about yours.” Marinette slid the notebook back to him, smiling herself. “Can I ask you something?” Luka asked. “You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal.” He gestured to her notebook again and she handed it back to him. He thumbed quickly through the pages until he found the one he wanted. He put it back down in front of her, watching her face. “What happened?”

The page was scribbled over with thick black marker lines, zigzagging across the dress that had been coming to life on the page. Beneath the thick scribbles, there were notes written around the sketch, some scratched out and some visibly messier than others. Marinette winced looking at it. “It couldn’t do what I wanted to,” she said, after staring at it for a moment. “It was...the dress wasn’t right for the concept, or the concept couldn’t be a dress at all, and the more I tried to fix it the more frustrated I got. Then my TA reviewed my work for the week and ripped me a new one over it, and...I just knew I wasn’t ever going to be excited over it again, so I scrapped it.”

She felt ashamed as she said it, like she was admitting she was a quitter, but Luka just nodded, as if she made perfect sense, then reached over and turned a couple of pages.

“Not that my opinion’s worth much, but this one was my favorite. It just has so much energy. It feels...hopeful. Like it’s waiting for great things to happen.” He glanced up at her, looking uncertain for the first time in their conversation. “I hope that came out right. I’m not always great at explaining things.”

Marinette just stared at him in wonder, a bright smile slowly spreading over her face. “No, I think you got exactly what I was thinking. It’s a first date dress, I mean, that’s what I was thinking when I made it.”

Luka nodded slowly. “Potential.”

Marinette beamed. “Yes, exactly.” She leaned on the table and put her chin on her fist, looking at him with renewed curiosity. He looked back for a minute, and then straightened abruptly.

“I think I’m going to get a drink, would you like anything?” Luka said, sliding from the booth.

Marinette blinked. “Um, yeah, that would be great. A cinnamon latte?”

“Got it. Be right back.”

Marinette sat back as he walked away.

He seemed nice.

***

Do you believe in love at first sight?

He’d heard the question many times before, usually from people trying to pick him up after performances, but until now he’d been largely agnostic on the matter. It could happen, but I’ve never seen it.

Luka was a thorough believer now.

Of course he knew the term coup de foudre but he’d never known it was so...accurate. He’d never experienced a shock to his system like the one he’d felt when he locked eyes with Marinette.

They were supposed to just exchange books and go on their way. He was bad at small talk, he knew it, but jumping into such an intimate conversation hadn’t been his intention either. He fervently hoped he wasn’t scaring her off. He knew his natural intensity could be off putting when he was too focused on a single person, and right now he was very, very focused on Marinette.

Luka ordered the drinks in to go cups, just in case.

When he returned with the drinks he felt a bit better. Marinette looked more comfortable and relaxed, and made no move to flee once he set her drink in front of her.

When he was back in his seat, Marinette surprised him, asking, “So, um, is music your major or just a hobby?”

“Music Ed, actually,” Luka replied, wrapping his long fingers around his cup.

“Really? You want to be a teacher?”

Luka chuckled. “I’d like to be a musician and not starve. Honestly, I’d like to give private lessons so I can work one on one with the kids and still work on my own music.”

“I remember you play in a band,” Marinette said.

“Yeah, we’re playing this weekend actually.” Luka rummaged in his bag for the stack of fliers, grateful for the opening. He pulled one out and handed it to Marinette. “I’d love for you to come.” Her eyes met his again and he felt that same shock run through his system. He wondered if she felt it too.

He flexed his fingers, wishing for his guitar.

#quickspins #take a chance #backlog #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #miraculousladybug #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #ml fics

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fierykamuy · 4 years

Text

Ravages of Time - Volume 22

to lengthen the session I plan to feature 8 pics per chapter, for a grand total of 64 pics, with discussions along the way

we begin with a recap of the premise for the events to come

Liu Bei accepts an imperial edict (which Cao Cao arranged to have the emperor promulgate) to attack Yuan Shu, who in turn seeks to collaborate with Lu Bu to take Liu Bei out of the picture (since as a Han loyalist he would be a nuisance to Yuan Shu's Zhongjia regime)

of course at this point Yuan Shu has been weakened somewhat due to Sun Ce's scheme as well as Liu Ye's betrayal, and thus he cannot afford to have Liu Bei ruin things further

175 also brings up one of the recurring topics in Ravages, namely the unreliability of historical accounts (particularly the 'official records')

to be clear, it's not as if Ravages is saying that since the records are biased we shouldn't learn from the records we receive and uncover (or worse, using the premise of unreliable records as an excuse to justify supporting one's favorite 'vilified' factions in the past)

rather, because the records are biased we have to learn carefully (and acknowledge that records are not just representations but they are also tools)

the paradoxical position of Ravages after all is that it uses its sources to criticize them (and without the sources and the stories of scheming, what would there be to criticize about)

its just like what Pang Tong was saying about cults. they may be false, but you can guide people with them

back to Zhang Fei, his response isn't just an instance of disparaging official historians (with the emphasis on 'official', since the dynasties of the central plains actually hire such positions to come up with sanctioned narratives about the past) but there's also a self-reflective aspect to it

how would one act not only with the thought of how one will be remembered, but also anticipating that one's actions will be misunderstood and misinterpreted as part of schemes to come

it's almost as if he's daring future generations to look at him how they (or we) would, so long as he gets his job done

and we're also reminded that Chen Deng's privileged position in Xuzhou is partly due to how he bankrolls the security and military apparatuses in the province (that's why he outright flaunts about not having to pay the usual taxes, since he pays in other ways)

an instance of corruption to be sure, but he's still playing his part in the province (while seeking to benefit from the dysfunctional arrangement at the same time)

on a side note, Ravages doesn't really do well in showcasing the official functions of the various positions in the Han government (but then again, with Han undergoing a slow collapse, this hardly matters)

Ravages can't even be bothered to display an imperial court scene with the proper protocol

and it seems Liaoyuan Huo hanging around with Chen Deng had another purpose (after all, if he was trying to search for Xiao Meng's whereabouts, why would he suddenly wind up in Liu Bei's turf)

now back to the scheming, we see the 16 moves begin to take form with plans and revelations such as this

to recap, the premise is that Lu Bu and Yuan Shu are colluding to drive Liu Bei out of Xuzhou (while Cao Cao arranges for the mess in Xuzhou behind the scenes so that he can proceed with his own move elsewhere)... but since Zhang Fei is aware of that (or rather, suspects that something like that is going on), he's making plans of his own, and here it involves luring Lu Bu into making a premature attack (this is where the deliberate rumors about Zhang Fei's drunken recklessness come in)

we also see plans being made on the part of Yuan Shu's forces

basically, given that there's an imperial edict to attack Yuan Shu, the plan is to lure Liu Bei into expending resources and troops in a protracted campaign, while Lu Bu takes advantage of the situation and seizes control of Xuzhou, forcing Liu Bei to withdraw to some backwater area... and even then, the Zhongjia troops are not content to simply play the role of a decoy and have Lu Bu take all the glory, so they too prepare a trap for Liu Bei on their front (though we don't really see much of this unfold on-panel, since the focus is more on dealing with Lu Bu)

Ji Ling and Zhang Liao also speculate that Cao Cao's imperial edict plan isn't simply to undermine Yuan Shu, but it's also meant to keep Liu Bei down while he's still weak

the chapter is also a reminder that Ravages stresses the importance of meticulous preparations for campaigns of mass conflict

I daresay Ravages is willing to cut battle scenes short in favor of preparation scenes (and yes, this includes preparations for future struggles even in the midst of battle)

before ending, the chapter also features Zhuge Liang and Pang Tong watching on the sidelines (and I find it a bit puzzling why Zhuge Liang is wearing his hat here again only to lose it again off-panel come 180)

we get hints (based on Pang Tong's insinuations) that Zhuge Liang doesn't like Zhou Yu that much (probably due to ideological disagreements rather than personal grudges)

and there's also an indirect allusion to the in-joke about how Sima Yi and Zhou Yu are similar in Ravages

I suppose the disagreement is that Zhou Yu doesn't seem to prioritize Han at all (it's one thing to serve Sun Ce with the intent of keeping him in check, like what Xun Yu plans to do with Cao Cao, and it's another thing to just empower another hegemon from another clan at the expense of Han)

though from 159 we see that Zhuge Liang isn't just a Han loyalist for the sake of elevating the imperial clan (Xun Yu's brand of loyalism is more committed to the actual institutions of Han)

rather, he sees the ideal of loyalty as a way to diminish bloodshed

to put it in another way, a typical model Han loyalist would be a social-conservative who wishes to preserve what has been inherited, with changes admitted on a gradual basis while protecting the authority of current institutions

Zhuge Liang's way seems more to be about using the virtue and ideal of loyalty (which so happens to be directed at Han, though it could really be directed at anyone else) as a way to govern people and keep the peace (thus his suspicion about calls for regime change is not because he thinks Han is always good, but that those who seek change may have other ulterior motives in mind)

thus I've mentioned before that of the 8, Zhuge Liang may be the most ideologically abstract and committed (and thus the events in 180 would agonize him so much)

176 may cover the duels of a particular battle in Liu Bei's campaign against Yuan Shu, but the narrative and textual details here cover more than just the battle

take for instance the floating text for the chapter, we can note that the Ravages 'narrative voices' do more than just recount the story or hype certain characters (since they also take on meditative and reflective tones)

whereas the narrator in, say, something like Kingdom behaves more like a storyteller (or for example, how the narrator in LOGH is akin to a presenter of a documentary), the voices in Ravages are more like commentators performing the processes of introspection that the composer may have done and the readers are expected to do

there's also a meta-fictive element in the chapter, as the floating voices don't just comment on what's going on, but also seem to comment on both the gimmicks of warfare as well as the conventions and tropes of texts about warfare (and since participants of war also make and hear tales of warfare, the conventions also bleed into the subjectivities of those who fight 'real wars' we see this when soldiers, cops, and activists gamify their feats)

this brings us to the dual character of military campaigns involving armed people... on the one hand, there are the considerations of the balance of forces (and how to take advantage of asymmetries to deal decisive blows), and on the other hand, there are the considerations of morale (and how to manage it with gimmicks such as rumors and duels)

this also provides a good excuse for texts (Ravages included) to feature duel scenes, haha

read the comment and think back at how fight scenes in many texts involve the contenders trying to justify themselves (either in monologue form, or while openly arguing)

also note how various factions make use of propaganda to present their side in a better light while vilifying opponents

Ji Ling of course isn't just content to make his point, he invokes the sages to make his case look wiser (just as Guan Yu dismisses arguments for regime change by noting the inscrutability of the heavenly will)

this brings me to another point, that not only can we learn from the insights of various thinkers, we can even weaponize those insights (and many regimes and societies have done just that for instance how the Han appealed to Confucius while refining 'legalist' mechanisms to form a Confucian-Legalist political order)

(on that note it can be said that perhaps in certain instances Ravages twists the citations in ways that scholarly researchers would frown upon, but just as with historical texts the words of the philosophers are also tools in the power struggle)

this tidbit highlights the performative and spectacular aspects of war (and war stories)

we can acknowledge that when described in terms of the processes of mass slaughter, war is at its core a boring and bloody affair... but what provides the spice in the mix are the stories embedded into the event by the agents with their different passions and interests (and to enhance the drama, what else would the architects of the power struggle do but set up a good show)

thus those in command come up with ways to manage morale and hype up the troops, with the help of stunt actors who relish in the performance (because in the first place, they too have internalized the narratives of hype and glory attached to war)

similarly, skilled storytellers manipulate their audiences into getting invested in certain angles

this isn't to say there are no interests and goals and principles at stake and that it's all just for the drama, but at some point things get storified to motivate masses of people into following through

incidentally, the chapter provides another way of looking at historical records with a critical lens

whereas the 'straightforward' indictment accuses historical records of various sorts of biases and slants, the 'indirect' meta-fictive insinuation notes at how narrative conventions and textual devices are already baked into the historical records

on a lighter note, it would be nice to have memes involving Xun Zheng and Yu Gi Oh (since he's called the king of duel, haha)

he gonna activate his trap card and banish challengers to the shadow realm

too bad Guan Yu has a reverse trap card

now back to the zone of the duel itself (since for the most part in the re-read I've been highlighting the thematic elements and the social commentary) Ravages reminds readers that its approach to fighting does not shy away from underhanded tricks (for instance, Xun Zheng's style involves taking out the horse before the rider, whereas Guan Yu's style uses the horse mainly as a jumping pad while tricking opponents into underestimating him)

neither are interested in drawn-out jousts on horseback

I didn't feature the pic where Liu Bei and Guan Yu talk about how one rises to fame by stepping on others, but it's important to bring it up (especially considering that in war conquerors tend to hype up their feats by assimilating those of the vanquished and this tendency gets passed down to when we engage in power level discussions and matchups)

the floating text began its remarks on battle conventions by pointing to the speeches on morality, and it wraps up with the use of embellishments and tall tales to celebrate the glory of the winner of a given round

of course, duels on their own do not determine the outcome of a battle much less a campaign (and in Ravages the iconic duels between the big names hardly change the course of the battle, though they make for interesting dramatic subplots and moments of spectacle)

and yet in certain instances, duels and their results (and the rumors that are generated in the process) can be used as tools to manage morale or buy time before the big attack, as is the case in this chapter

thus at the end of the day it is still the soldiers who fight and win wars, albeit under the direction of the schemers and with the aid of spectacles and stunt actors

now we enter 177, the chapter that so impressed me when I first read about it in tv tropes, so much so that it led me down this path (and elevated my expectations for stories about warfare and statecraft in the process)

the chapter begins with a summary of what has been going on in Liu Bei's front (and basically 176 is just a small part of the engagement)

recall that in 175 Zhang Liao and Ji Ling agreed on a broad strategic plan, that is to attack Liu Bei from the back (presumably this means not just Lu Bu's backstab, but also Ji Ling luring Liu Bei to advance so far that a reserve troop can be used to cut off Liu Bei's route back to Xuzhou)

basically at this point, even as Liu Bei brought the bulk of the troops in the campaign, Zhang Fei and Lu Bu are drafting troops and minions with the help of funds from merchants (Xu Dan on Lu Bu's side, Chen Deng on Zhang Fei's side)

on a side note, historical records usually label them as 'outlaws' as if they were just a motley gang (just like how state apparatuses disparagingly call various insurgent organizations as rebels and bandits), but many such forces are more like minor warlord factions that happen to be based in the outskirts

at any rate, the plan to take over Xuzhou involves these 'outlaws' who presumably have a grudge on Liu Bei (though of course there's a twist to all this)

thus far

Lu Bu wants to take over Xuzhou (with the help of outlaws)

Zhang Fei wants to lure Lu Bu into a trap at the provincial seat of Xuzhou (by pretending to be reckless)

Lu Bu plans to arrive at the city under the pretext of helping fight the outlaws on their way

Zhang Fei plans a banquet to gather pro-Lu partisans into the main city

incidentally, the 'cheng xia yi ju' motif is in play in the volume, insofar as the sides are trying to gather under the walls (in different ways)

what's fascinating about the chapter is that it painstakingly notes the various factors being considered and mobilized for what is a rather minor showdown

the calendar is weaponized (Zhang Fei setting the date for the banquet, Cao Bao's lackeys getting a convenient troop rotation schedule)

urban layouts are weaponized (Zhang Fei noting how the alleys can be used to ambush Lu Bu's troops, Cao Bao planning to set fire to a particular quarter as a decoy, Chen Gong buying up houses as outposts)

rumors are weaponized (stories of Zhang Fei's recklessness becoming a hot topic as reported by Chen Gong's spies, mainly to gather more outlaws to the fray)

finances are weaponized (Chen Deng planning to bribe the outlaws to outbid Xu Dan, not to mention the extra spending to ensure Zhang Fei's ambush troop becomes more mobile)

as the factions keep planning, the scenario becomes more and more complex

remember that the basic premise is that Lu Bu wants to capture the provincial seat and thereby control Xuzhou, while Zhang Fei wants to lure Lu Bu into a trap

for the sake of that both camps have gone as far as spreading exaggerated rumors, sending spies, rigging security schedules, laying an ambush in alleyways, preparing to set an area on fire as a decoy, anticipating the fire attack and repurposing it as a signal, etc.

and this is just the preparatory stage, like rehearsing the parlor games for the party, haha

essentially though, the plan hinges on which side the outlaws will take

supposing the outlaws join Zhang Fei, Lu Bu can be trapped in the city with little room for escape

supposing the outlaws join Lu Bu, Zhang Fei can be squeezed with Lu Bu holding the city center (if he gets there) and the outlaws positioned outside the city gates

and then there's this page

it's almost as if Ravages is talking about not so much the struggles and intrigues of the last days of Han, but the convoluted arrangements and contests of the 20th and 21st centuries

basically an indication that Ravages isn't just some story about warfare and statecraft, but also a commentary on warfare and statecraft (and a commentary on stories about warfare and statecraft), in narrative form

and this makes Ravages far more sophisticated than many other tales dealing with similar topics, as exemplified in the

though I really wish there were more texts to rival Ravages in this respect

ultimately it's these complex aspects (rather than the usual moments) that drew me to the series in the first place (and in this regard I may be part of a super-minority) and while it doesn't represent a scholarly innovation (though I argue that Ravages can be a site for further research) it nonetheless raises the bar with regard to what stories can do (and how they can stimulate further thinking)

to briefly review the situation

Lu Bu (who is colluding with Yuan Shu) plans to take over Xuzhou by first taking the administrative seat (with the help of outlaws) while Liu Bei is away fighting Yuan Shu's forces (as a result of an imperial edict arranged by Cao Cao)

Zhang Fei (who wants to pre-emptively get rid of a potential threat) plans to lure Lu Bu and his associates into a trap by organizing a banquet (and spreading disinfo about his recklessness)

Cao Bao's henchmen are in charge of the security detail on the day of the banquet as well as preceding days

Chen Deng pours in financial resources to help Zhang Fei entrap Lu Bu

(a reminder that both Chen Deng and Cao Bao are influential in the province, having served Tao Qian previously)

the gimmick is that Lu Bu comes to the city under the pretext of sending aid when in fact he's planning to seize the city center before the outlaws arrive

Zhang Fei for his part arranges for only the south and east gates to be open on the day of the banquet, since the streets in those quarters are narrower and good for an ambush

Cao Bao, given his influence within the city, plans to set a fire on a certain spot in a bid to distract the hidden ambush troop

Chen Deng is persuaded to spend even more resources to increase the mobility of the ambush troop, with the anticipated fire to be seen as a signal to commence the operation

as a side plan, it seems the troops supposed to supply Liu Bei are also given secret orders to attack Lu Bu's base in Xiaopei on their way back

on the day of the party, both sides exercise extra caution, mutually anticipating one another's plans

Cao Bao may have brought several guests and escorts with him, but the number of collaborators is too many to list (with some acting as scouts on the lookout for suspicious movements throughout the city)

in turn, the ambush troops try to keep themselves hidden so as not to attract the attention of the security forces under Cao Bao

as anticipated, while Lu Bu is also on his way, Zhang Liao proceeds to enter first to lead the vanguard (and is let in with the help of insiders at the gates)

we've already been told that the ambush is set in the east and south quarters due to the narrow streets there, so the closure of the north and west gates is less about keeping spies out (Cao Bao's collaborators are already present in the city) and more about forcing Lu Bu to go through the narrow streets

of course, throughout the party, Zhang Fei is still keeping up appearances of being a carefree drunkard, to make Cao Bao lower his guard and strike prematurely

an amusing part of the chapter concerns the code words and phrases being used to convey information (basically a pretext for Chen Mou to engage in minor word play, haha)

incidentally, many stories of stratagems and intrigue in the central plains have involved puns and innuendos and veiled insinuations, so this is in keeping with the tradition

additionally, the reference to Zhurong is a deliberate one, a hint that a fire attack is about to begin anytime soon

in another note, while it's nice to see Ravages incorporate tidbits of folklore here and there (ranging from Tengri to Chisongzi and Chiyou), aside from the Taiping sects we don't see religious movements and practices being explored in much detail throughout the series... hopefully this lacuna is addressed in future developments

the security scheme even involves the commoners as part of an effort to feign a sense of panic and manufacture controlled chaos (basically a 'bavarian fire drill' in the language of conspiracies, haha)

I just want to say that in terms of banquet intrigues, Ravages really raised the bar with this one

other twists and turns and traps at feasts and parties simply pale in comparison to the '16 moves'

too bad this minion has been named in deluxe volume 11 as Lu Chang, but I like how he and Cao Bao have complementary outfits

and so with a nicely drawn fish dish as a signal (not to mention Zhang Fei offering to show guests how he fetches items), the real party is about to begin

there is a particular policy objective (which will be revealed more clearly in the chapters ahead) there is the broad strategic plan (that is to say, the overall struggle for the city and by extension the province)

there are the operational details (basically the preparation and implementation of the 16 moves)

I stress operations rather than tactics since Ravages seldom gets into the granular aspects of specific maneuvers

the nice thing about 179 (for purposes of re-reading) is that it's relatively fast-paced, with the players beginning to take action

basically the initial battle plan of Lu Bu's main invasion force involves splitting into 3 groups (the first to handle Zhang Fei's troop, the second to secure the gate, the third to head to the city center following Zhang Liao's vanguard)

to be fair, throughout this charade, Zhang Fei made sure to keep the commoners safe using appropriate evacuation protocols (and arguably, Lu Bu's battle plan doesn't involve causing that much mayhem and disturbance, but only inflicting enough to distract Zhang Fei and secure the city)

also, another interesting feature of Ravages is that it includes occasional snippets of commoners commenting on the situation

in many cases they are shown to be perceptive (and at times rather cynical too)

they may not control that much leverage in the power struggle, but they are not completely disempowered as they are still able to make some sense of what's going on and articulate what they have in mind

posting this just to showcase an instance of Ravages camera tricks (it just so happens that there are too many flat closeup panels by comparison)

the struggle for the city also involves its own iteration of the besiegers getting besieged, haha

also, the last Lu Bu body double to be killed on-panel

considering that 177 and 178 are 2 days apart, my speculation is that Lu Bu could have snuck in using a supply wagon perhaps on the middle day or earlier in the day of the party (knowing that Cao Bao's henchmen handled the security detail)

And I daresay common ground of Fei and Liao to allow Lu Bu snuck in was hinted beforehand.

Just like how Liao agreed to free Meng, because it would negatively affect Lu Bu

For the 180th chapter analysis, check this link - https://www.reddit.com/r/RavagesOfTime/comments/fbssrf/chapter_180_analysis/

essentially 181 is where the party is about to wind down, but not without revealing some surprises along the way

the nice thing about action scenes is that (unless one wishes to discuss the nuances and niceties in the choreography and the paneling) one can go through them fairly quickly

one thing to note is that while the narrow quarters restrict Zhang Liao's effective range (and moreover can presumably lead to situations where a miscalculated swing can lead to the blade getting stuck or someone's grip on the weapon messing up), the narrow quarters also restrict opportunities for evasion

another nice touch about Ravages is that it depicts weapons and armor as being fragile

even though Zhang Liao had the upper hand in that round when it comes to melee weapons, Liaoyuan Huo has some surprises in store (too bad we don't really get to see this segment on-panel)

Ravages also likes to add subtle hints winking and nudging about the next steps and the upcoming revelations

in this case, Liaoyuan Huo insinuates that Zhang Liao and Zhang Fei may have secretly agreed upon something

I mentioned previously how the schemes of Lu Bu and Zhang Fei hinge on which side the outlaws would take, and it's amusing that these outlaws (other than Cao Cao) turned out to be the biggest beneficiaries during this incident

this is the equivalent to the same set of hired guns playing with and profiting from two rival groups that seek to outbid one another in securing the mercenary services

and then Zhang Fei makes his big reveal, that it turns out the strategic goal all along was to abandon Xuzhou (since given Liu Bei's reputation as a heroic loyalist, certain warlords elsewhere would like to welcome him, not to mention this further tarnishes Lu Bu's reputation)

yet one has to wonder way they did not purged those outlaws

I think the outlaws were militarily powerful (they could be the same group as the Mount Tai bandits who show up on-panel in 231, defecting to Lu Bu's side after Xun Yu's abduction), and neither Lu Bu nor Liu Bei would want to waste effort suppressing them completely

now not to be outdone, Lu Bu unveils his own twist, the so-called sixteenth move (which involves Chen Gong taking a troop with him to a low-key city in Xuzhou, where Chen Gui is harboring and protecting Liu Bei's wives)

deluxe volume 11 also gives the full name of Wu as Wu Hui

more importantly, the two sides were careful not just to minimize their own casualties, but also to minimize the adverse impact on the commoners (and that is why it often takes a complex method to do something simple, since one has to consider many factors)

there's also a side discussion touching upon how the uninvolved can see through the charade

this is not to say that outsiders are familiar with all the details the insiders have to deal with, but outsiders can surmise the wider picture (or at least the broad outlines of it) and ask the bigger questions since they are not as caught up in the moment, wrapped in the fog of war

an alternate translation of the quote from the Analects goes:

"If the Way is being realized in the world then show yourself; if it is not, then go into reclusion"

this can either refer to Pang Tong taking his step, or perhaps Zhuge Liang and Liu Bei lying low

the 'five hegemons' may also be an indirect reference to the five hegemons of the Spring and Autumn period

and then there's the foreshadowing of a realm split into three, roughly along geographical lines

there's a minor design error in the painting though as shown in the chapter title page, since Sima Hui and Pang Tong speak of the 5 mountains arranged as a northern one, a southeastern one, and three in the south (and southwest) lumped together, but instead the painting shows two northern mountains and three southern ones... still, the painting looks nice nonetheless

essentially the prediction is about a tripartite balance whereby one faction holds the areas north of the yellow river, another holds the eastern areas by the long river, and the third holds the south-central heartland plus the southwestern mountains (for the most part the 3 kingdoms after Han adopt a similar arrangement with the notable exception being that Wu rather than Shu gets to hold the south-central area instead due to the intrigues involving Guan Yu's downfall though story-wise the prediction does not state for instance who will control the northwest)

now even without Lu Bu's sneaky move, we must consider that Yuan Shu has more resources than Liu Bei, and so had the campaign dragged out Liu Bei would be at a disadvantage despite having the talents of Guan Yu and Zhang Fei

of course it's revealed a few pages later that this incident of Guan Yu threatening to execute Zhang Fei (low-key playing with Liu Bei's sentiments about the brotherhood) was all for show - to nudge Liu Bei a little more towards the breaking point into the dark side

now, we're not shown how the Zhongjia troops were able to defeat the Han loyalist troops (since last time we saw, Liu Bei was able to secure at least one stronghold)

however, I could speculate the following scenario: with Lu Bu's sudden takeover of Xuzhou, Zhang Fei was forced to withdraw (while certain other troops simply surrendered to Lu Bu), which means the frontlines could no longer count on supply deliveries or fresh reinforcements... and since Yuan Shu presumably has more troops in reserve (not to mention the agreed-upon plan between Ji Ling and Zhang Liao in 175 to strike Liu Bei from behind), perhaps the surprise attack was timed just when Lu Bu was able to drive Zhang Fei out

this means at the very least that Yuan Shu's troops are not total pushovers when they have the advantage, haha

in another note, we could see that Liu Bei deeply feels bad about the people who lost their lives (and doubly so since his efforts ended in failure, not to mention he lost his territorial foothold, and his wives are hostages)

and thus begins Liu Bei's journey to the dark side (eventually as he gets darker he discards his dark cape and sticks to a light-colored robe green if we are to believe the game pics)

let us recall

Liu Bei in the early chapters was willing to be misunderstood and engage in some underhanded schemes, but his red line was that he refused to take advantage of others for his own gain (Guan Yu nudged him a bit by convincing him to play the part of a hero, Zhang Fei outright hijacked his plans to remain a straw sandal bandit by drugging him)

then Liu Bei slowly accepted that in troubled and messy times, some form of self-serving behavior is unavoidable, but nevertheless he remained steadfast in upholding loyalty to Han and treating a guest well (Zhang Fei's next plan was to further cultivate Liu Bei's ruthless side while also enhancing his reputation as an underdog, 2 birds in 1 stone)

eventually after almost being killed by Lu Bu's second backstab Liu Bei becomes more self-interested and becomes more protective about his reputation, coming to see it as an asset and a weapon in the power struggle (arguably in the late game he remains sincere and sentimental, but less about Han and more about those he deems his bros and pals)

on Guan Yu, while it may seem that Ravages didn't renovate his image as much (Chen Mou even admitted that his sacred image is too influential to be tweaked that much), but one can note that perhaps in Ravages Guan Yu isn't that awesome of a paragon for virtue (Zhang Fei even hints at that in a monologue in 102), but neither is he a fraud who only pretends to be virtuous... rather, it would seem that (like many people) he's simply trying hard to uphold the examples of the sages and would like to maintain a similar reputation (the further nuance explored in later chapters seems to be that he doesn't simply maintain the reputation of being virtuous, but also virtuously tries to perform the persona that the virtuous do not care about being praised for appearing virtuous)

I should note though that his beard his shorter than the usual depictions, haha

here Pang Tong basically recaps Zhang Fei's strategic goals (and while he doesn't know Zhang Fei's other goal about fetching a 'Liu Bang' and remolding Liu Bei further he speculates that the departure would give Liu Bei the opportunity to swallow up the domains of Liu Biao and Liu Zhang)

incidentally, in the Romance it is Pang Tong who manages to conveniently convince Liu Bei to take an ambitious step and seize control of Yizhou from Liu Zhang, so it's amusing to see a nod to that early on (even though Pang Tong is also misleading Sima Hui into thinking he's backing Liu Bei, when in fact he's paving the way for Liu Chong)

Pang Tong's iconic line for this chapter may perhaps indicate that of the 8, he's the one who relishes in intrigues and power struggles the most (even though he's a Han loyalist of sorts)

also, the description given to him was mis-translated... Pang Tong is pragmatic [實用] rather than utilitarian [功利] (Guo Jia's views may be closer to a broadly consequentialist approach to morality)

ironically he joins Liu Bei's side later on

for those familiar with the period it's a foregone thing (though Ravages messes with that expectation by having him help Liu Chong first)

if only Liu Chong had stronger bodyguards

other than the report that the hostage scheme allowed for a relatively bloodless takeover, what is interesting about this page is what it hints at: Lu Bu wanted to capture someone valuable

I think the reference is to Liaoyuan Huo

the discussion about old wounds and new wounds also suggests that regardless of Lu Bu's reputation, he's still fragile (and he's weakening bit by bit)

but the struggle is all the more magnificent for that

and for someone who schemed and betrayed his way to power to decline and fall by way of scheming and betrayal... similarly terrifying

and then of course there's this twist, which explains why Sima Yi was shown in the last part of 175

for those outlaws to receive three sets of bribes, materially speaking they're the biggest winners in the engagement (though since they're also part of the scheming game, they wouldn't simply waste what they have received for momentary enjoyments)

this also lays out the plan to undermine Lu Bu from within, by secretly co-opting the Chen clan to cooperate with Cao Cao

Chen Deng must be unhappy about it since Cao Cao's troops conducted the massacre in his home province years ago

and there's still a long way to go before Liaoyuan Huo earns the full trust of Liu Bei's core team...

anyway, that ends the special re-read of volume 22

in a nutshell the hostile takeover of Xuzhou is but a small piece in the larger geopolitical struggle, but what Ravages did was to make a minor skirmish more convoluted (and by extension, rendering the overall situation in a more complex manner)

basically to sum up the developments in volume 22

generally for those who don't mind reading Ravages in a non-linear fashion, I recommend checking out the one-volume mini-arcs (particularly volumes 6, 19, and 22 since 25 contains too many big narrative turns) as condensed samples of what the Ravages text has to offer

whereas volume 6 is a neat indicator of Ravages transitioning into a more cerebral approach (though I must point out that the mind games and the reflections are already there from the start, though in the first arc the action is more prominent) and while volume 19 is the initial step beyond the first 150 chapters (themselves a workable and longer snapshot of how Ravages stepped up and matured), volume 22 is perhaps that one volume that neatly packages many salient schemes and themes together in one concise bundle

now if one were to come up with a broad outline of the story covered in volume 22 it would be as follows

chapter 175: there's gonna be a party (and it will be a fun one) chapter 176: meanwhile, for those missing out on the upcoming party... chapter 177: hey let's prepare some stuff for the party chapter 178: on the night of the party and we're counting down to the main event chapter 179: IT'S PARTY TIME chapter 180: in the meantime, someone who isn't on the party is exposing what parties really mean chapter 181: party's almost over, time to wrap up chapter 182: the mourning after the party

#ravages of time #analysis

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duhragonball · 4 years

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On Twitter, there’s a new movement that started up on... Thursday, I guess, with the hashtag #SpeakingOut, where women were encouraged to call out instances of sexual abuse. I’m not sure if it started with the pro wrestling community or not, because earlier in the week I saw some stuff about comic book pros like Warren Ellis and Cameron Stewart, but maybe that was a precursor. All I know is that right now, I’ve been seeing all sorts of names being dropped in the pro wrestling business, each of them accused of being sexual predators, or covering up for the crimes of others. Some of the names I don’t recognize, because they’re independent wrestlers from promotions I’m not familiar with, but I’ve seen some names I do know, and that’s pretty tough to take. I’m going to discuss this here.

Predictably, I’ve seen some backlash to #SpeakingOut, which reminds me of the same bullshit talking points used by the #IStandWithVic crowd last year. In case you didn’t know, Vic Mignogna was a voice actor who worked for Funimation and provided the dub performances for Broly in DBZ, and Eward Elric in Fullmetal Alchemist. I think those were his two most famous roles. Over the decades, Vic garnered a reputation for being a sex pest, kissing and inappropriately touching women and teenage girls at conventions, and harassing his colleagues. I assume the release of the “Dragon Ball Super: Broly” movie in the U.S. in 2019 precipitated a newfound interest in those allegations, and fans started objecting to his bookings at 2019 conventions. By mid-year, Vic was fired from Funimation and RoosterTeeth, and he responded to this by starting an ill-advised defamation lawsuit.

Vic’s defenders are, to put it mildly, idiots. There were professional lawyers on Twitter who explained, very clearly, why this lawsuit was a bad idea. The main reason being that it was done in Texas, which has a lot of laws designed to make it harder to sue people for defamation. I think Vic’s goal was to find some way to punish his accusers for making him look bad and getting him fired. Winning the lawsuit, was a way for him and his supporters to feel like they “cleared his name”, except that was never how it worked. If he had been arrested and tried for sex pest crimes, the burden of proof would be on his accusers to show that he really did bad things. But he was suing people for slander, so that means the burden of proof was on him to show that they really were saying things that were demonstrably false and damaging to his reputation. The main problem with that is everyone had been talking about his sex pestery for years, so it doesn’t make sense to single a few people out in 2019 and blame them for reinforcing something everyone already believed. But the ISWV crowd kept insisting that this distinction didn’t matter, and that it was wrong to ostracize or turn against Vic without “proof”. I see the same demands for “proof” being tossed around for all these wrestling personalities.

I think there’s a couple of things going on with this. One is simple denial. If you’re a fan of someone and you find out they did something terrible, you really don’t want to believe it. I was never that into a lot of these guys, but I know I felt pretty low when I first heard about Vic’s shenanigans, because I liked his work. And I’m feeling that way about Warren Ellis now. Not a huge fan, but I liked some of his stuff, and now I feel a little guilty by association for ever liking that stuff in the first place. It would be nice, I suppose, to just pretend that I hadn’t heard those accusations, or that they weren’t real. Then I could just go back to the way things were before, without all the uncomfortableness. I just can’t do that, but it seems like a lot of people can and will. It’s not about “proof”, it’s about putting up some sort of barrier that will excuse them from confronting an unpleasant truth.

I think this is why you see people going out of their way to defend Christopher Columbus and Confederate monuments. They want to believe that there was something noble about that stuff, because the alternative is to admit that a lot of the things they learned in school aren’t true, and a lot of the “heritage” they cling to is built on white supremacy and slavery. I don’t think anyone really cares about a Robert E. Lee statue, but I’ve seen people go out of their way to try to say Lee opposed slavery, like he’s one of the good Confederates, so he should get a pass. Except he did own slaves, and even if he hadn’t, he still fought to defend a nation founded on slavery as a guiding principle. Tearing down a statue of Lee is a tacit admission that Lee never deserved a statue in the first place, and everyone who admired him was wrong, and maybe the admiration was rooted in racism all along. That’s a bitter pill for people to swallow, and a lot of them just refuse to swallow it. So they deny and deflect, and do anything they can to make this about something else.

The other side of it is just plain hatred. I don’t know if Vic’s defenders were all misogynists to begin with, but it seems like they all got there, one way or another. The train of thought always seemed to be “He didn’t do these things, but even if he did there’s nothing wrong with it.” From what I saw, it really seemed like Vic’s backers were all fired up about defending a man’s right to creep on women in any way he sees fit. “What, so kissing is illegal now?” No, jackass, but when you’re fifty-fucking-five and you kiss a seventeen-year-old girl who only wanted to take a picture with you, it’s pretty damn messed up. When you use your celebrity status to try to mack on young fans, that’s messed up. When you’re an established wrestler and you try to take advantage of up-and-coming wrestlers, that’s messed up. And some of that behavior is totally illegal, but the sad reality is that most of these creeps will never get prosecuted for any of it. That’s why the calls for “proof” are so hollow, because everyone knows it’ll never end up in a courtroom. At best, some of these guys will get fired, and guess what? “Innocent until proven guilty” doesn’t apply to employers. I lost a job once because my “teamwork” wasn’t good enough, and that was the closest thing to an explanation I got. Don’t bullshit me about “proof”.

I guess I should tie this train of thought in with Black Lives Matter while I’m at it. I find it absurd that the police in this country are so out of touch that when there’s a nationwide protest against police brutality, their immediate response is... more brutality. This, more than anything I’ve seen, is the reason to defund the police. They appear to only have the one mode of conduct, and they don’t even know how to do things a different way. If the situation is this bad, we may as well scrap the police as they are and start over. If the cops wanted to fix this situation, all they have to do is treat people with respect and hold themselves accountable, but they can’t let go of their hatred for five fucking minutes and figure that out. This is why you hear about those guys who make up stories about restaurants spitting in their food. They’re paranoid that everyone’s out to get them because they know they deserve to face some consequences, so they’re constantly on guard for this sort of thing. It’s sick.

Somehow, people who support these guys end up supporting the very behavior they were supposed to be denying. Maybe this is why Columbus is such a sticking point. I never gave a shit about Columbus. One of my high school yearbooks had a Columbus theme because it just happened to come out on the 500th anniversary of his first voyage to North America, but I never understood what that had to do with my high school. I think there’s people that want to give him tons of credit, basically thank him for everything that’s happened in the Western Hemisphere since 1500, not in spite of his atrocities, but to retroactively justify them. What I mean is, if you can convince society that Columbus was a great man, and that his achievements outweigh his wrongdoing, then you can also convince society that the wrongdoings aren’t actually that bad. “The price of progress,” they can say. It’s like the idea that Robert E. Lee is admired solely for his “brilliant” military mind. His side lost the fucking war, so I never understood how he gets all this credit for being a great general. The point is that if you can convince people that he was a noble man in spite of the slavery thing, then you can open the door to the idea that the Confederacy as a whole wasn’t That Bad, and that only opens the door to the idea that slavery wasn’t That Bad, and so on.

Same deal with Roman Polansky and Woody Allen. It amazes me that people will still try to defend those fucks, but it probably has a lot to do with all the other sex pests in Hollywood, who hope that everyone will stick up for them when they get exposed. So you have this little chesnut about how “Yeah, they did bad things, but they sure made some good movies.” The implication is that you have to accept a few sex crimes if you want good art. And no, that’s not true, and even if it were true, it wouldn’t be worth it.

I don’t know where things will end up with J.K. Rowling. I’d like to think that one of these days, she’ll wake up and apologize for all this TERF rhetoric she’s been spouting. That would probably be the best-case scenario. More likely, she’ll cause an entire generation of Harry Potter fans to wrestle with their loyalty to her books. There’s no job to fire her from, no laws to punish her, no government agency to step in. She’s got no financial stake in repairing this PR damage. There’s going to be an audience of bigots that will still kiss up to her no matter what she says, so her ego will be well-insulated. Maybe a hundred years from now, people will be talking about tossing her statue in a river, as society admits that we don’t need to accept transphobia in exchange for YA literature.

I don’t know, I think I went all over the place with this one, but I had a lot to get off my chest. I think the overall lesson from this year is that we can’t put these people on pedestals. Some of them are just hell-bent on letting us down, and it’s just a matter of time before their misdeeds are brought to light. I see these dopes with Thin Blue Line flags and “I stand with [X]” hashtags and I’m like “Who are you supporting here? What is it you’re standing for, exactly? Why should they be worthy of your loyalty?” And I think the answer is less about loyalty to a person or group, and more about sticking it to someone else. Women, minorities, whoever. They just want to stand by someone to spite someone else. And that’s awful.

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inorganicone2230 · 5 years

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The Caged Bird (Part 3) Yandere!Erasermic x Fem!Reader

Part 2 Part 4

Summery: For the Gods of Life and Death, loneliness seemed a heavy thing to bare when confronted with the prospect of facing it for an eternity, even with each other. That is until a chance encounter with a certain someone prompts them to think that just maybe, that lonely eternity can be abated, as long as they have the right person to share it with.

Side Note: This is a prequel to my other Yandere!Erasermic story called Divine Intervention. If you have not read that one yet, I highly recommend you go and do that before reading this one.

Warnings: Not many for this chapter, just some light stalking.

“Thank you so much for your purchase!”

Today was proving to be a rather profitable day as you sold your herbs and salves at the market. You came into the village at least twice a week or more during the spring and summer months to sell the herbs and salves you made. The money you made doing this bought a good chunk of the meat and rice you ate during the fall and winter. You grew and stored as many vegetables as you could and you were proficient enough to catch a few rabbits once in a while, but there was only so much you could do when you live alone. Not to mention the cloth you would need to make some warmer clothing, the ones you have been reusing were starting to get worn down.

Looking up at the sky, you spotted the sun just starting to dip behind the western mountains. It was officially time to pack up and head home. It was only two miles, but you really weren't keen on traversing the mountain road in the dark, no matter how well you knew the path.

“Are you heading home now (Y/N)?” Your neighbor in the stall next to you asked as he began closing up as well.

“Yes, it's starting to get late and I still have a bit of a walk home ahead of me. I should be back next in a few days though to start buying my winter stock.” You replied, closing up your medicine chest and heaving it onto your back.

“I still cannot believe you choose to live all the way out there instead of here in the village. Especially with how hard the winters can be around here.” He said good-naturedly, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It's really not that bad. As long as I plan right for the winter, I generally have nothing to worry about.” You shrug your shoulders, used to the other villagers concerns for your well-being.

“Still, please make sure you hurry home as quick as you can, and don't stray from the road. You never know what kind of dangers could be lurking out in those woods.”

You finish saying your goodbyes, waving off his words of worry just as you always have. You've walked that path hundreds of times and no harm has ever befallen you. What dangers could there possibly be?

----------

Everything was bathed in the colors of twilight, orange and yellow casting a warm but eerie glow over everything it touched. As a little girl, you had often been told by your parents and other relatives that if you were caught playing out at this time, you would get spirited away by demons. Obviously it had just been a tall tale meant to scare you into returning home before nightfall, but it hadn't stopped you from staying out as long as possible in an effort to catch sight of a real life demon. It always ended in a stern scolding from your parents.

Now though, you may not have been a child any more and you certainly didn't believe in demons at all either, but you did still enjoy this time of day. Everything was quiet, save for the light breeze rustling the green leaves on the trees and the cries of cicadas. It was a perfect summer evening on the mountain, and you greatly enjoyed having all this time to yourself.

You were enjoying the peaceful mood so much that you failed to notice the sound of footsteps behind you, until a hand landed on your shoulder and you let out a blood curdling scream that sent a few birds flying from their branches.

You whipped around to see two unfamiliar young men. One had long blonde hair tied back in a neat braid and wide green eyes, dressed in a simple green robe with a yellow sash. The other looked less put together with messy shoulder length black hair, tired looking dark eyes and a bit of stubble, he was dressed in a black and white robe held in place by a gray sash. Both were given you apologetic looks, so you assumed that they weren't about to hurt you. You hoped not at least…

“C-can I help you?” You managed to stutter out, still a bit shook from your sudden spike of fear.

It was the blonde who spoke first. “Sorry for startling you miss, but you wouldn't happen to be the young lady who took care of the cardinal with the broken wing, would you?”

Instantly your tight posture was beginning to ease, perhaps due to the relaxing timber of the man's voice or even the topic he was bringing up, you weren't sure which. “Umm, yes I am. Are you the birds owners?”

The other man spoke next. “Yes. It’s trained to come back home when we let it out. We were both rather worried when it never came home until a few days ago. When we were in the market today, we overheard someone talking about a girl trying to find the owner of a cardinal with a broken wing. We naturally assumed that the bird in question was ours.”

“Yes!” The blonde pitched in eagerly, a large smile taking over his face. “We heard that you lived in the same direction as us and when we saw you walking ahead of us we wanted to thank you personally. Our apologies again for scaring you the way we did.”

You smiled at them politely, it was nice to know the bird had found its way home. But one thing about their story did stand out to you as odd though. “I'm very glad to hear that. But, may I ask one question?” Both men nodded, still sporting smiles, the blondes much bigger than his friends. “You said you live in this area, but I’ve never seen you around at all. Ever.”

“We live a ways up the mountain, past the break in the road. We hardly ever leave home for much, we both prefer a life of solitude and usually have what we need delivered to us. I can count on one hand the number of times we've left our property to venture into the village. Right Hizashi?” The blonde nodded along enthusiastically.

That would make sense, you thought, there is that section of the road that veers off, leading further up the mountain and into the forest. And if these men were as reclusive as they claimed to be, it would go a long way in explaining how you had never met them before. You couldn't judge them too much, you yourself were a bit of a recluse after all, always preferring the company of the forest to large crowds, your only exception being your family and the trips you made into town.

“Well then, allow me to introduce myself, my name is (Y/N).” These men had quite politely thanked you for the care you had shown their pet, the least you could do before parting ways was introduce yourself to them properly.

“It's nice to meet you Sweetling, my name is Yamada Hizashi, and my stoic counterpart here is Aizawa Shouta!” His eyes were alight with some happy emotion you couldn't quite place, very different from his partner who by sheer contrast, wore an expression that straddled the line between boredom and just plain not caring. They were as different as night and day, and you found yourself wondering what their relationship to each other was since they said they lived together. Were they friends? Relatives? Business partners? Lovers? But you didn't voice these inquiries, you had only just met them and did not wish to come off as rude.

But you let go of those thoughts when you realize how low the sun has gotten, the heavy shade from the surrounding forest making the path hard to see. “It's very nice to meet you as well, but I should probably head home now. If it gets any darker I won't be able to see the way at all.” You hurriedly said, raising your hand to wave goodbye to the two mysterious men.

“We’ll walk you to the break in the road since we're heading that way as well. After all, you can never be too careful and it just wouldn't feel right leaving a pretty young lady like you on her own.” Shouta said, the briefest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

You smiled yourself, turning to face them. “That would be much appreciated, I’ve walked this path more times than I can remember, but I still don't care for walking it in the dark.”

“Then we will be happy to escort you Sweetling. Just let us lead the way.” Hizashi stepped forward to take a stance at your right, while Shouta took to your left. “Shall we?”

With that the three of you set off down the path, the walk feeling much quicker than usual when filled with the jokes and laughter the two men -mostly Hizashi- seemed intent on forcing from you. You were a bit disappointed to see how quickly you had reached your destination.

“Are you sure you don't want us to walk you the rest of the way to your home? We really don't mind having to double back.” Shouta asked quietly, glancing between you and the road.

You shake your head, both flattered and embarrassed by their insistence. “No, it's alright. Now that we're not surrounded by trees, the moonlight is lighting the path just fine. And besides, it's a relatively short walk from here to my home. I will be fine.” You flashed them a heartwarming smile. “Thank you again for the company, it was nice.”

Shouta cleared his throat, a light blush that you couldn't see in the dark dusting his cheeks. “Alright then Kitten, if you're sure.”

You blushed profusely at the nickname. First ‘Sweetling’ and now 'Kitten’. It was strange to be sure, how familiar they were being with you, but you simply chalked it up to them not caring for social conventions. They were homebodies after all.

“Just please be safe on your way. We would hate it if something were to happen to you.” Hizashi said, both of them reaching out to give your forearms a light squeeze.

You blush more at their brazen touches, but nonetheless wish them a safe trip home as well before you turn and begin walking away. The days events catching up to you just as you reach your door and you go straight to bed. You'll put everything away tomorrow, you think, slowly slipping off into slumber.

You never even noticed the two extra figures standing inside the shadows of your home, green and red eyes watching you, greedily drinking in the sight of you and all your vulnerability.

“It won't be long now (Y/N). Soon we'll have everything ready to bring you home.”

“Just wait a little longer for us.”

TBC in Part 4!

I hope you all enjoy!

#yandere!erasermic #yandere!erasermic x reader #yandere!aizawa #yandere!hizashi #yandere!aizawa x reader #yandere!hizashi x reader #aizawa x hizashi #fem!reader #reader insert #gods au #light stalking #typical yandere behavior #bnha #yandere bnha #prequal

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becomingminimalist · 3 years

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Eulogy for Harold E. Salem

One thing has become very clear to me over the last several days and that is this: Everybody has a Pastor Harold Salem story.

People at the grocery store, at church, those who have known him for decades and those who’ve just met him, everybody it seems to me, has a story they want to share about grandpa.

They will tell you about the first time they met, the sermons he preached, the jokes he told, or the experiences they shared. In every story, you can hear the same refrain, “He touched my life. And my life is better because Pastor Salem was part of it.”

I read one such story on Facebook this week that went like this, “It was Pastor Salem’s Christmas sermon in 2003 that led to my grandmother’s salvation. Thank you Pastor Harold.”

There is not a doubt in my mind that every single person in this room, or watching online, could stand up here today and share their story about Harold Salem.

At the very least, every mother in this room could stand up and share about the time he offered them $100 to name their child, Harold.

I have my own story:

10 years ago, I had an unexpected conversation with my grandpa. I happened to be in town and he asked if I could meet him in his office at 1pm the following day. It was an unexpected request. It wasn’t unexpected that I’d be in his office. I mean, I’ve been sneaking into his study since I was a child to steal Tootsie Rolls or Certs out of his drawer.

But this request was more formal, official.

When I sat down with him, my grandpa took a sheet of paper from his drawer and slid it across the desk. When I picked it up, I read clearly typed out across the top: Funeral Service for Harold E. Salem. Every detail of his funeral had been planned out.

He pointed out my role, where it landed in the service, and asked if I’d take part in it.

It was a conversation that I have never forgotten, even to this day. It wasn’t particularly surprising that my grandpa had planned out his funeral, he was just that type of guy. Thoughtful and thorough.

The surprising part was when I looked up from the paper and looked into the eyes of my grandpa. They were calm, assured, and unafraid. He spoke of the end of his life plainly and matter of factly. He spoke of his death as something that he looked forward to with joy.

He had lived his life well. He had no regrets. As he liked to say, “If I had a hundred lives, I’d give them all to the ministry.”

He told me that he was ready to die—that he desperately wanted to see Beulah again and he couldn’t wait to finally meet Jesus face-to-face.

He was not afraid of death because he had run the race well. He had finished strong. Oh how I long to reach the end of my life as satisfied with my pursuits as he was with his.

That was over a decade ago.

For the last ten years, I have known this day was coming. And for the last ten years, I have been at a complete loss of words to know how to articulate the person Harold Salem was and the impact his life has had on both heaven and earth.

The day after my grandfather passed away, my mom got a telephone call from a woman requesting information about the funeral. Her father, 97 years old and confined to a nursing home, wanted to be there at the funeral to pay his respects properly. And she would do whatever it took to get him there.

The following morning at church, just 12 hours later, a prayer was offered from the pulpit mentioning Harold’s death. Immediately when the prayer ended, a 10-year old boy in the row in front of me, looked up at his mother with tears in his eyes, “Pastor Salem died?”

What type of man compels a 97-year old man in a nursing home to move heaven and earth to attend a funeral and yet can also bring a 10-year old to tears at the mere mention of his death? Who has this type of impact across generations and can communicate love so effectively?

I only know one man—and the world lost him this week.

His accomplishments are second to none. I know not everyone watching and listening online has access to Harold’s obituary. For your sake, allow me to just read a few paragraphs from it:

He entered the ministry at age 23, serving faithfully as the pastor of First Baptist Church in Belle Fourche, his home church, for 13 1/2 years.

In 1958, he accepted the call to the First Baptist Church of Aberdeen, South Dakota, where he faithfully served as Pastor for 52 1/2 years. While pastoring the church, he started the First Baptist Christian School, now Aberdeen Christian School.

Harold founded the Christian Worship Hour in 1979 by telecasting the church worship service on a single TV station. Today, his preaching is broadcast on over 100 stations around the world and shortwave radio reaching 90% of the world’s population.

He was a well-known and well-loved community member of Aberdeen where he served on countless nonprofit boards including the YMCA, Red Cross, Habit for Humanity, St. Luke’s Hospital, Presentation College, FCA, Northern Plains Hospice, among numerous others.

He served as the President of the South Dakota Baptist Convention, served on the faculty of the Billy Graham Schools of Evangelism for 16 years, was named “Pastor of the Year” twice in the state of South Dakota, and was inducted into the South Dakota Hall of Fame in 2000.

He is the author of three books and the subject of one documentary, Heart of a Shepherd, produced in 2018 to document his extraordinary life. He worked passionately for the Lord every day of his life promising repeatedly that he would retire “3 days before his funeral.” He fulfilled that promise working full-time until the very end.

Harold’s selfless spirit, kind words, sense of humor, impeccable memory, sharp mind, and boundless energy endeared him to others wherever he went—whether a country farm or an executive board room.

His children will tell you he was the same person at home as he was in the pulpit. Always loving, kind, fun, and faithful to the Lord. His love for Beulah was unconditional and his love for others was never questioned.

What can I say about this man? What can I say about a man I’ve always wanted to be just like? What can I say about a man who shaped my worldview and understanding of God more than anyone else? What can I say about a man I named my own son after?

For ten years I have wrestled with this question.

And it wasn’t until just a few weeks ago that I knew what I wanted to say.

Two weeks ago, on a Sunday morning, I received a text from my mom. And it said this, “Please pray for dad. He is going down hill. It is very hard to watch.”

I knelt down to pray and felt immediately at a loss for words.

I recalled my conversation with my grandfather ten years ago, when he told me contentedly, “I just want to go see Beulah and finally meet Jesus face-to-face.”

Praying for his recovery, in an odd way, began to feel selfish. Oh, how I’d love more time with him. Oh, what good he could continue to bring into this world. Oh, how many souls could he continue to bring into the kingdom of God if he would live longer here on earth.”

And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my grandpa would have welcomed that opportunity. If he had recovered, there’s no question that he would have returned to preaching and answering letters and sharing the love of Jesus with everyone he met.

Because that is who he was—selfless through and through. His life was for Christ and his life was for others. Harold lived an entirely selfless life.

He never lived for the glory of himself, he never loved in a self-serving manner. He gave himself, every day, to the God who saved him and the sheep He sent his son to save. Through and through, he had the heart of a shepherd, giving his life for the sheep.

As I closed my prayer that Sunday morning, I said to God, “Maybe just this one time Lord, maybe just this one time, you give him what he wants. A chance to see you, and Beulah again.”

The reception he received in heaven, I’m quite confident, is greater than he ever imagined. As countless souls line up to share with him their Harold Salem story of how he touched their life, how they accepted Jesus because of his preaching, and how their souls will spend eternity with God because of him.

Heaven is fuller because of Harold Salem’s life. And I can think of no greater compliment to offer a human being.

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awkwardnessandbaseball · 5 years

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Yanno, sometimes you wait and wait and wait for inspiration to hit you and then, when it does, you’re right in the middle of a billion other fics. That’s what happened when I tried to write this one, and then finally... it all clicked.

Thank you, as always, to @sherlockianwhovian for looking at my words and making me feel good about them (literally without you, I’d probably never have the guts to post anything).

Tag list: @revanmeetra87, @kmomof4 (I dunno who else wants to be tagged for general CS stuff versus specific stories, so let me know!)

I present: another piece in the Plain White T’s Song Project.

I Really Want You

AO3, if that’s how you like to do things

Summary: One universe, three ficlets. Some Modern AU Swan-Jones family fluff to get you going. (Based on the song of the same name from the Plain White T’s)

Rating: G

---

“Mama, how did you meet Daddy?”

Emma laughed to herself. Her daughter took after her father in a lot of ways, not least of which was her tendency towards romantic stories. So, naturally, she often asked this question. Emma had told her the story hundreds of times, but little Hope never seemed to tire of it.

“Well, baby, you know Mommy loves to draw.” Hope nodded enthusiastically. Emma had painted the walls of the nursery when they’d been trying to conceive, hoping that just making the room ready for a baby would, in fact, bring them a baby -- and it seemed to work. The pale green walls featured fairy tale characters and creatures, all stenciled and designed by Emma’s own hand. “One day, I was in the park, just sketching a random person. He was very handsome, this person, and I kept trying to get him just right. He, of course, was very observant, and noticed me staring at him. And so he came over and said ‘Miss, I know I’m devilishly handsome, but you don’t need to stare. You could just come and talk to me.’” Here, Emma always did her best impression of her husband’s English accent, butchering it more often than not. But no matter how well (or how terribly) she impersonated him, it always sent Hope into a fit of giggles.

“What did you say, Mommy?”

“I asked him if he was serious!” Emma laughed, remembering. “I couldn’t believe that he’d just approached me like that. And I tried to hide the drawing, of course, not wanting him to know what I was doing.”

“But he did know!” Hope insisted.

“Yes, he did, but I didn’t know that yet!” Emma stroked her daughter’s dark curls while she spoke, smiling fondly at the memory of her now-husband approaching her with such intensity. “And so he said--”

“‘Yes, I am devilishly handsome,’” Killian said from behind her. She hadn’t heard him approach, caught up in her own story as she was. “And your mama laughed harder than she’d ever laughed at anything in her entire life.” He settled in beside her on the floor of their daughter’s room.

“Her entire life?” Hope echoed. Her eyes were starting to close. Emma prepared to stand up, but it proved difficult to do so without jostling her daughter and waking her up. Killian reached over and took Hope while Emma stood, and together they maneuvered their way to the toddler bed in the center of the room.

“Yes. I’m just that funny, little love,” Killian said seriously as he tucked his daughter into bed. Emma watched, still in awe of her husband and the gentle way he cared for their daughter. Still amazed by him, even after all this time.

“You know,” Emma whispered as they closed Hope’s bedroom door. “You left out a pretty crucial part of that story.”

“I don’t think our daughter needs to know that you threatened me the first time we met, love.” Killian smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist. “We’ll tell her when she’s older.”

“To be fair, you deserved it. I had a boyfriend at the time and you wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Emma teased.

“You’d been working on a sketch of me for an hour! I figured it had to mean something.”

They’d had this conversation hundreds of times. First, when their friends asked how they met. Then, much later, when Hope started asking. Every time they told the story, they ended up here.

“Do you regret talking to me that day?” Emma asked, biting her lip, already well aware of the answer.

“Well, my pinky toe has never quite recovered from your stomping on it, but no, I can’t quite bring myself to feel an ounce of remorse.” Killian pulled her body flush against his. “And you?”

“Every second,” she joked. Killian, whose arms were still around her waist, started tickling her and she ran down the stairs to escape. He caught up to her and pinned her to the wall.

“Oh really?” he asked. She nodded, breathing heavily.

“Then I’ll just have to change that!” Killian hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her to their bedroom.

Emma Swan-Jones really didn’t have any regrets after all.

*********

“Daddy, when you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?” William asked.

“A pirate,” Killian replied with a grin.

“Like a guy who flies planes?” William cocked his head at his father.

“Er, no, that’s… that’s a pilot,” Killian said, trying not to laugh. “But that would have been nice, too.”

“I wanna fly a plane,” William announced. “Where would you go if you flew a plane, Daddy?”

Killian thought for a moment, not wanting to give a false answer to his curious little five-year-old.

“I’d fly into space,” Killian said.

“That’s a rocket ship, not a plane!” William rolled his eyes dramatically at his father’s silliness.

“Well, if I’m making the rules, then I say I can pilot a plane right up to the stars.” Killian leaned in close. “I’d take you with me, though.”

“You would?” William’s eyes grew wide now.

“Aye, lad, of course. You, and your mother, and your sister. I’d fly us all right into space and we’d go see the moon and the stars. A family vacation.”

“Sounds expensive,” Emma said. Killian turned to look at her, surprised by her presence. She had a habit of sneaking up and watching him with the children. At first, he’d thought she was being over-protective, that she didn’t trust him with them when they were babies. But then he’d caught sight of the wistful look on her face. One he recognized because he wore the same one whenever he looked at her.

What a couple of hopeless romantics they’d become.

“Well, I’m a pilot, Swan. I must be making a substantial amount of money, no? Surely I can just borrow a plane to use.” Killian stood and walked towards her. She smiled up at him.

“I don’t know if that’s how it works,” she said before kissing him.

“Ew!” William screeched and ran down the hall to his own room.

“We scared the kid again,” Emma laughed.

“He’ll get used to it,” Killian said, nuzzling his wife’s neck.

“Will he?”

“Well, he’s got to, because I’ve got no intention of ever not kissing you,” he whispered in her ear.

“Mmmm, that’s fair,” she whispered right back. “Would you really fly into space?”

Killian laughed.

“If I were, in a fictitious other life, a pilot. And I had a plane that could, somehow, reach space. Yes, I’d fly all of us out there for a week just to--” he was cut off by a knock at the door. He sighed. “Just to be alone for one minute,” he growled before stalking off to greet whoever had chosen that moment to stop by.

************

And when I finally get you, I’ll probably want somebody else Ain’t that the way it goes?

Killian Jones was many things. He was a husband, a father, a harbormaster. He was a sailor, deep down in his soul, and he was a flirt.

Or at least he had been.

Ten years had passed since he’d met the love of his life, one Emma Swan. She’d been beautiful then. Her blonde hair shone brightly in the sun, and her green eyes stared at him with an intensity he’d never experienced. She may have been a taken woman, but Killian knew, could tell because he knew what it was like, that she was unhappy.

Happy women, after all, don’t spend their days alone at the park drawing strange men over and over again.

And so he’d approached her. He’d gotten shut down, but he’d kept trying. Until she stomped on his foot, threatened to call the cops if he came near her again, and walked away.

Finally, a month later, she came back to the park.

He was there with his best mate, Robin, and Robin’s son. Roland had been six at the time, and was already taking after his Uncle Killian: the boy was a flirt. He’d approached Emma of his own volition, peering over her shoulder at what she was drawing.

“That looks like my Uncle Killian!” he’d exclaimed, right into her ear.

Killian was, of course, apologetic for the intrusion, but Emma had just blushed and laughed.

“I was hoping you’d be here,” she admitted. It turned out that Killian had been right. She wasn’t happy.

And neither of them had been able to stop thinking about the other.

It wasn’t a conventional beginning, but it was theirs.

And now, ten years later, Killian was still as in love with her as he had been back then. Still found her attractive, despite her complaints about stretch marks and wrinkles and grays. And Killian was thinking about all of this, about his love and his family, while in the checkout line at the grocery store. Until he was driven to distraction by a beautiful woman two lines over.

He could only see the back of her head. She wore yoga pants that hugged her body in just the right way, and a loose fitting workout top. He admired her from behind, watching as she bent over to pick up her infant son. Killian stared at the curve of her behind, at the muscles in her shoulders.

She was, even from all the way over here, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He could hear her talking to her daughter, who was occupying her time by selecting one of each candy in the aisle.

“Hope, please put down the candy. You know we have ice cream at home. You can’t have both.”

Killian smiled as he paid for the flowers he’d stopped to purchase.

“Need some help, love?” he asked as he approached his wife.

“Killian? What the hell are you doing here?” Emma asked, handing him their son. William clung to his father’s neck. Killian balanced him in one arm.

“I was stopping to get a gift for my favorite woman in the world,” he said, leaning to kiss his wife on the cheek. He pulled out the bouquet of flowers he’d been holding behind his back. “Surprise?” he offered with a shrug.

“God, you’re the sweetest man I’ve ever known.” Emma said it as though she were simply stating that the sky was blue or that the flowers were yellow. But there was a sincerity behind it that made Killian smile. He waited for her to finish paying for the groceries before leading his family to Emma’s car. He’d been walking home from work when he’d made the stop, but he was quite content to join them for the ride the rest of the way.

“Well that’s quite a compliment. As it happens, you’re the sweetest woman I’ve ever known.” He kissed her softly after they’d each buckled in one child and settled into the front seats. “And the most beautiful.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes in a move that both of their children had certainly inherited.

“I’ve been running around with William all day, just picked Hope up from school, and I just now realized that I’m still in the clothes I went for a run in this morning.” She sniffed her underarm, a distinctly not-ladylike move, even for Emma. Killian laughed when she made a face at herself. “I feel a lot of things, but beautiful isn’t one of them.”

“Trust me, love. Beautiful as the day I met you.”

#captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #cs ff #caitlin writes

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blastberrydragon · 4 years

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MagiTech Institute of Art -Chapter 1

Tyler walked up the concrete steps and pushed open the double doors to the plain-looking admission's building for MagiTech Institute of Art. A rush of cold air and the smell of commercial cleaners filled his lungs as he braced himself to approach the stern-looking Asian lady seated at the front desk.

"Oh! You must be Tyler Risky! You look just like your father! Is your mom here with you?" She said warmly as she walked around her desk to greet him.

Tyler stopped mid-step, 'You knew my father?"

"Oh yes, he went to school here at the same time I did. He was a sophomore when I was a junior"

She leads Tyler to a small sitting area in the corner, keeping up the small talk, "Would you like something to drink? Where's your mother?"

"Some water would be nice; she's dropping off my little sister at a friend's house," Tyler responded while accepting the glass of water, "I'm sorry, but I never got your name?"

"Oh, sorry, I'm Ai; I run admissions for the university," she responded as she ambled over to the reception desk.

"Let's get you started on some paperwork while we wait for your mother," She called as she rifled through one desk drawer before moving on to the next one.

"This might take a while, our receptionist just stepped out for lunch. Jame's is the one who knows where everything is"

"New student files are in the top drawer in order of expected arrival for the day. An electronic copy is made, and papers get filed alphabetically with the rest of student records after the paperwork is filled out." A large dark man called as he strolled back out.

"Hello, I'm James! I would love to stay and chat, but I just cam back for my wallet", the man introduced himself.

"I can handle filing the paperwork after lunch if you leave it on top of my desk!" he called over his shoulder as he walked back out.

"Here we go!" Ai handed Tyler the paperwork, "Fill this out, and I can take you and your mother through orientation after you finish. Sometimes I wish that we could admit students all at the same time. Still, the rolling start dates allow us to welcome more unconventional students."

Tyler filled out paperwork for about 15 minutes before his mom walked into the office.

"Ai! It's been so long since I've seen you! I'm here to go through orientation with my son Tyler Riksy."

"Suzzy! I haven't seen you in forever, your son is right behind you. Such a nice young man, you did a good job raising him."

"If your paperwork is done, Tyler, you and your mother can follow me into my office."

"The paperwork is done, ma'am. Hi, mama," Tyler said, walking over to hug his mother.

"Let's get this started, shall we? The orientation room is right this way." Ai lead way through a door in the back of the reception area.

Tyler walked into a grey conference room, except for the floor-to-ceiling windows on the far side overlooking the rows of servers that seemed to stretch so impossibly far.

"Welcome to the MagiTech Institute of Art, but more importantly, welcome to your birthright," Ai proclaimed as she guided Tyler to a seat facing the windows. A sense of vertigo overwhelmed Tyler as he tried to focus on the servers.

"What?" Forces itself out of Tyler's mouth. He's sure he's misheard, birthright? Who uses the word birthright anymore? Did Ai mean he's a legacy because of Dad?

Tyler looks over to his mother, trying to figure out what going on. His mother beams at him with barely contained excitement.

"Oh, I had hoped you would take after your father. Keeping it a secret after you got admitted was so difficult," Suzzy rambled. "I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I?"

"Just a little, but most parents do. Tyler, your mother, is excited because by finding and completing the application to the school, you proved to have the innate ability to perform magic." Ai explained. Tyler stared incredulously at Ai and his mama, wondering what type of cult he'd gotten himself into and how to get out without causing a scene.

"And this is the part where you think we are delusional, and we have to prove it to you so you'll listen to the explanation," Ai says teasingly with a smirk on her face.

"So what do you think this is? Cult, drugs, hallucination, dream, multilevel marketing scam?" Tyler's mama asked him.

"Um, a cult?" Tyler responded. Questions raced through his head. Did cults acknowledge their cult status during orientation? What was happening to his mama? What do the servers have to do with magic?

"I can assure you that the school endorses no particular religion, but how about we start with a video explanation and a demonstration? I can answer any questions you'll have afterward," Ai said. She walked over to the screen at the end of the conference room and pressing play on the laptop connected to it.

"Welcome to the MagiTech Institute of Art and the world of magic" came blaring out of the speakers as scenes of students in classrooms played on the screen.

"Before we begin with the history of the school, let us go further back and discuss the history of magic. Magic was discovered by many cultures across the world at different times. We'll generalize the method in which magic was found by most peoples, although exceptions do exist.

Usually, the first people discover the use of magic within a culture could only do minor things with the ability. Light a fire a little faster, prevent food spoilage for an extra day or move a little quieter during a hunt.

Eventually, most cultures discovered that physical objects can enhance a person's magical ability. These objects were usually a form of artwork, sculpture, painting, and pottery were frequently used. Now they can walk through a crowd unnoticed, increase harvest yields by 10%, or better the odds of someone surviving an illness.

So it remained for hundreds of years until science came along and with it better, more reliable methods of ensuring a more abundant harvest or preventing disease. Magic use started to die out kept alive only by individuals looking to preserve their cultural heritage.

In 1972 a research study into the cross-cultural similarities in magic use was conducted. The paper never made it past peer-review, but the individuals who participated in the study, 200 of them, organized a convention of sorts. During the conference, it was discovered that many magic systems use physical objects to enhance their practice. After a bit of tinkering by a few programmers present, it was found that computers could strengthen the connection between objects and magic. An informal group was formed, and work began to design a supercomputer to enhance magic use.

This eventually gave rise to the MagiTechs, a group of people who have created, updated, and maintained the mainframe for the last 48 years. The mainframe is a supercomputer that came from those early efforts. Any magic-user can access the mainframe to enhance their magical practice."

Ai hits pause on the video "Do you have any questions before we get to the school's history?"

"Am I just supposed to believe in magic just because you said so?" Tyler says as he fidgets with keys. He glanced at the doors, wondering if he could convince his mother to leave with him.

"Not yet, we haven't really provided any proof. We do expect that our students be intelligent enough to ask for proof and examine it themselves," AI responded.

"We can do the demonstration now or after we cover the school's history, which would you prefer?"

"The demonstration now, please," Tyler responds, hoping to get this over quickly.

Anxious thought swirled around his head. I wish I had been more suspicious of the application. Rolling admission & start dates so I could finish working with Mrs. May on adding an art section to the bookstore? Need-based scholarships? Only 45 minutes away from mama and my little sister Jane? It was too good to be true.

"Ok, I'm going to give you a piece of clay and a laptop. The laptop is connected to the mainframe and will enhance your magic as you work it through the clay. Think of the one thing that would convince you that magic is real as you work the clay. Keep in mind that magic isn't limitless and try to keep it to something that can happen inside this room," Ai instructed.

Tyler turned on the laptop and started messing with the clay. His mind wandered to the many instances of magic users flying in popular culture. Superheroes flying through the sky loomed in his mind's eye as he worked the pattern of an updraft into the clay. Witches on a broomstick as he stretched the earth upwards. Levitating genies as a broad platform formed at the top of the sculpture.

"Tyler, honey, look down," his mother asked him.

Tyler opened his eyes and looked around the room. Everything, including Ai and his mother where floating 2-3 inches above the surface under them. Tyler looked down and found that he was hovering over the seat of his chair, and the chair itself was floating a few inches above the floor.

"I thought magic was supposed to be grander," Tyler mumbled.

"That's a common misconception, a tall tale if you will. Magic has always been limited to small things, and you are untrained. With training, you might be able to levitate everything in this room up to a foot or a single object 7-8 feet." Ai explained.

"Ok, so why all the secrecy? Why not just tell people? Why did Dad hide it?" Tyler asked.

"Well, most parents hide it from their children since there's no guarantee that children will inherit the ability. There were several cases of non-wielding children growing resentful and jealous of parents or siblings that did have the ability. Coupled with children's' habit of telling everyone everything, it's become customary to let children find their ability by themselves. There's no official rule that requires discretion, you can tell anyone you want. Most of us don't tell anyone except our partners because outside society is a bit judgemental about magic," Ai explained.

"I almost stopped speaking to your father when he told me, I thought he had either joined a cult or was planning on becoming a stage magician. I didn't know which would've been worse. I came around eventually," Tyler's mom said, grinning.

"Ok, I'm not fully convinced, but I'm willing to listen" Tyler replied

"Good, that's all we ask for, I'm going to keep going with the video, and we can cover any other questions after" So said as she pressed play.

"While the use of objects to channel magic is mostly something that could be passed down from generation to generation or from master to apprentice, the involvement of technology marked a need for a specialized school. The MagiTech Institute of Art was founded in 1974 with 3 areas of focus, technology, art, or magic history. More areas of focus have been added as the school has grown. However, students still spend the first 2 years at the school, focusing on these 3 areas.

The main campus began to be built shortly after the formation of the school. It was designed to be accessible to as many magic wielders as possible.

The school has been designed to be accessed through 73 different properties scattered around the world to better serve students. All of these properties will lead students, guests, or staff onto the main campus. All others see only the admissions building disguised as an unremarkable office building. 3 more entrances to the school are planned to come online by 2023.

The main campus of the school exists partially between all these locations and the mainframe.

We hope you will join us as a student and start your journey to becoming a MagiTech." The screen went black as the video ended.

"Ok, what does staying here, entail? Do I get to go home to see my family? What are the rules about visitors?" Tyler asked.

"We ask that all first-year students live in the dormitories, but there's no curfew. You are free to leave campus just like you would be at another University. Visitors need to be approved to come on campus. Staying here entails that you attend classes, obtain passing grades, and follow the rules set out in the student handbook," Ai said.

"Ok, if I agree to this, can I drop out if it's not a good fit?"

"While we hope students don't drop out, it does occasionally happen. We have a more generic description of classes for those who wish to transfer to a more traditional university."

"Ok. I'll stay. What happens next?" Tyler asks.

" We'll get you an access card, and assign you to another student who will show you around for the first few days. Your mom can drop off your stuff at the lobby of your dorm room on her way out," Ai said.

Ai led Tyler into a new glass-clad building. Once inside, they traveled through a few well-lit hallways cluttered with art before coming to a stop in front of an art studio with several students inside.

"Hello, everyone! Where's Alby? He's going to be Tyler's orientation person," Ai calls out.

"Alby's in the bathroom, he should be right back. Hi Tyler! Long time no see!" A guy in the back corner called Diego answers. Diego was small-framed with bright pink hair blending into purple roots. Warm brown skin crinkled around his eyes as he smiled at Tyler.

"Do you two know each other?" Ai asks.

*We went to high school together," they both respond.

"Tyler, would you mind if Diego introduces you to Alby? I'm running a bit late."

"Not at all, it would be nice to talk to him for a bit."

"Wonderful! Drop by my office if you need anything or want to chat" AI called over her shoulder.

"So, what's this place like Diego?"

"It's amazing! The classes are fantastic, the people super friendly, and you won't need to worry about people being assholes because they think you're gay," Diego answered.

"I'm not gay," Tyler responded, a well-worn joke between them. "I'm.."

"One of those no homo dude bros, I'm assuming." Interrupted a handsome person with beautifully painted eyes and a delicate mouth. Bleached white hair fell into their eyes, and a tank top reveling buff arms completed the look.

"I'm Alby, I go by they/them and I don't tolerate bullies."

"Umm, hi? I'm Tyler, I think you are the person assigned to show me around?"

"Yep. Get your stuff. I'll take you to your dorm room and pick you up for dinner after you unpack." Alby called over their shoulder as they stalked out of the room.

Tyler chased after them, catching up as they stepped out of the building into a tree-shaded courtyard dotted with chairs and tables. The wide-open grassy space was surrounded but other buildings. Tyler spotted students studying at the tables and hanging out with friends.

"Here's a map of the school and do try to keep up," Alby snarled, pushing a crumpled piece of paper into Tyler's hands.

Tyler trailed after them, bewildered as to what he had done to get off on such a wrong note. Maybe it was the polo shirt? Did it make him look like frat bro? He was just trying to look put together for orientation. Tyler resolved to ask Alby what his issue was when he managed to catch up to him and raced after him into a large brick building.

Alby stopped abruptly in front of a door in a corridor plain wood doors that left Tyler with an impression of the vague uneasiness of gazing upon the mainframe. " This is your dorm. I'll be back in an hour." Alby spat out as they turned on their heel and started to march away.

"Wait, Alb,y! What did I do to make you this angry this fast?" Tyler shouted at Alby's back.

"Clearly, you're one of those straight people that feel so fucking threatened by any queer person they have to let everyone know that their straight and not one of those people" Alby ground out.

"I'm pansexual?" Tyler responded, disconcerted.

"I don't care... Wait, what? But you told Diego you weren't gay?" Alby faltered.

"Oh, that's a joke we had in our high school LGBT club about people erasing the identity of anyone who isn't strictly gay. I mean, the name itself was pretty exclusionary, you know? Gay Coalition? But the school would barely let us have that," Tyler rambled.

"Oh, I fucked up," Alby muttered as they leaned heavily against the wall, "I fucked up bad. I thought you were homophobic, one of those guys that need to protest even the hint that they're not masculine enough. So you know Diego?"

"Yeah, we went to high school together, he graduated a year before I did."

"Well, if Diego thinks your cool, I guess I should give you a chance. Sorry for being an asshole." Alby mumbled to the ground.

"Don't worry about it. So this is my dorm?" Tyler asked hesitantly.

"Sure is, walk-in, and you should meet your new roommate. I'm going to turn in a paper, and I'll be back in a bit to take you to dinner." Alby replied, grinning.

"Um, Alby? How do I get in?" Tyler asked.

"It recognizes your student ID; press it on the door, it should let you in."

"Ok awesome! I'll see you in a bit for dinner!" Tyler called scrambled to get his ID out of his backpack.

#queer fiction #queer fantasy #lgbtq #fiction #original content #modern fantasy #pansexual character #magitech

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flying-elliska · 5 years

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You said it feels cool to have a specific identity but isn't that exactly why we are seen as the special snowflake generation? Not to mention wasn't the whole point to be free from stereotypes and dress however we want, love whoever we want etc? And yet there's now so many identities, labels, flags which create an implicit pressure to define yourself so you'll be included. Idk I think your french friends are right,it still feels like we're pushing people into boxes; they're just woke boxes now.

Hey anon ! Thank you for this very interesting question. I hope you’re ok with getting a mini-essay as a response (that’s kind of my brand now lmao)

So first of all, if you don’t feel like you personally need labels, you are totally valid. And so are my friends. I think you have to find out what you’re most comfortable with. It’s true that labels can be used to exclude, esp in the LGBTQ+ communities. I think we focus our activism a little bit too much on words and online stuff and media representation nowadays, as opposed to practical political action, and that’s an issue. And we focus too much on people not having the correct, latest approved terminology and labels as a way to show you’re a good person, as opposed to what people are actually doing and their lived experiences, and who is authorized to use what label and those debates often just exasperate me to the highest point. It’s like, don’t you have anything better to do ? It becomes very clique-ish, school courtyard drama at times. There should always be a place for questioning, fluidity, no labels, a place for discovery and uncertainty, shifting identifications, multiple labels at once, words changing, and questioning what place they take in our lives.

But, on the whole, I still like my labels, and I’m going to try and explain why.

Labels are words right ? They have the benefits and drawbacks of words. A rose under any other name would still smell as sweet, of course. But we are a fundamentally social species, and words are a way to create bridges between people, between our experiences. It signals that you are not alone ; it’s a way to make visible things that are usually invalidated, ostracized or just plain erased by the mainstream and the status quo. The development of a vocabulary for the queer community was what made their political struggle and pride possible ; before it was “the love that dare not speak it name”, all euphemisms and shame. It honors, too, the struggle of those who came before us ; it places us in the continuity of a history ; it says we have been here before, it gives us memory and context. Of course words are going to betray us, because they can never retranscribe the fullness, complexity and confusion of lived experience. But they’re a conversation starter ; they bring people together ; they create spaces of freedom.

I’m going to give you a personal example : a few years ago I fell in love with a girl for the first time ; after that I seriously started thinking of myself as bisexual. There had always been a thing there but because I had been mostly attracted to boys before, I’d swept it under the rug. But finding the ‘bisexual’ label made me realize - no this is a thing, this is valid, and it made me look back at all those instances in the past of having weirdly intense feelings for some of my girl friends, of being obsessed with certain actresses, etc…that back then I didn’t understand, I just thought I was weird…and I always thought that bisexuality was something that something Hollywood starlets did for attention. But finding a community behind that word that was seeking to reclaim it from the stereotypes and being proud about what it meant, it was so healing.

After that I immersed myself more in my local LGBTQ+ community ; and in particular I volunteered for the European Bisexual Convention - that one in particular was incredible because it felt so…liberating. In the general LGBTQ community, people expect you to be gay until you say otherwise. In the student association I was in, it was cool, but it was also…very normative in a way. Lots of stereotypes about how we were expected to be, what we were expected to like, behave like. So for Eurobicon, to have all of that lifted, it was amazing. And it was also so much more inclusive - of disabled, neuroatypical, transgender ppl, different body types and ethnicities, like you could feel that they had made an effort. I also met several nonbinary ppl for the first time of my life and I was like…oh wow there’s something here that feels very important and real. We shared experiences that we did not have a space before, that were specifically bisexual and that tend to go unheard in general queer spaces because they’re not part of the dominant narrative : the daily hesitations, the lack of visibility, the much higher rates of staying closeted, feeling like you are not really part of the community, but also the really cool aspects too - there was this incredible energy of fluidity too of thinking, here is a space where everyone can potentially be into everyone, there aren’t as many barriers as we usually have to think about. And there was this one party and we were all dancing and flirting in a very sweet kind of way, people of different ages and body types, gender presentations and configurations I hadn’t thought about before, a girl in a wheelchair swirling around and being treated like a queen, guys in corsets and cool butches and just some beautiful people - and there was this euphoria in the room, of recognition and kinship, and it felt so…normal, not freakish like I had been led to believe it would be. Nobody was putting on airs or trying hard or whatever, they were just being themselves. And I was like, wow, this is something I need more of in my life. And this freedom was made possible by people coming together under a certain label, recognizing that certain people have specific needs and experiences. Especially after growing up in environments that never tell you that those things are possible, finding the right label can be like coming home.

I have other labels for myself I am less public about because I don’t want to deal with the social aspect of it, or I’m like this is none of anybody’s business, or I want to give myself the time to figure it out on my own. But they’re tools for self-knowledge, they allow me to think about things, to conceptualize, to research (and lol I’m a nerd so…). And to be less hard on myself sometimes, and to stand up for myself in a ‘I know who I am and it’s okay’ kind of way. Because society tends to pathologize, ostracize or demonize the things it doesn’t understand, and labels can protect you against that.

In an ideal society maybe we wouldn’t need labels - to have a right to exist or survive, and that’s definitely a goal, but I think we would still make some, because that’s who we are as a species, we need to classify certain things in order to think about them. The problem is when those boxes become cages instead of like, beautiful pots to grow seeds in, like art or poetry. And of course deconstructing the boxes we don’t want remain important. But I don’t think we can ever be box-less, it just to me doesn’t compute.

I just wanna come back to the ‘special snowflake generation’ thing. If you don’t want labels, like I said, that’s fine. But I hate hate hate that term, and I don’t want to define myself in reaction to it. To me it’s used by a) bigots who just hate the fact that natural human diversity is becoming more recognized and discussed, and want to put us back in the artificial, stifling boxes that dynamics of power, patriarchy and imperialism have made us believe were normal when they really weren’t. And b) older people who are uncomfortable with increased levels of emotional intelligence and lability among younger generations. It’s a thing I’ve noticed over and over again ; people used to talk so much less. When they had feelings in general, or experiences out of the norm, they were taught that stuffing them down and sitting on them and repressing the shit out of them, was the noble/normal/grown up thing to do. So they did and they suffered in silence. And maybe some of them now feel bitter, or at least bewildered, by younger generations refusing to do so and inventing and or reclaiming all those new ways of talking about their experiences out in the open. And so they’re like ‘it’s too much ! you’re spoiled !’ because they want to believe that their sacrifices had a point. They don’t want to realize they could have done things differently all along. It’s very sad. But I don’t think it should be a barrier to us using them like…just as we shouldn’t refrain from using washing machines because our grandmothers suffered to wash everything in a bucket…There’s nothing entitled about wanting a better life than previous generations… And to me, having more words and more space to express myself will never be a bad thing.

#pride #labels #bisexuality #bi pride #lgbt

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phaedrecameron · 5 years

Text

House of Fraser, Chpt 4- Un Dono

“Jamie! The Randall fiancée is here.”

“Her name is Claire, Marsali. Send her back would ye?” Asked Jamie.

Jamie turned back to his table. He had several fabrics laid out in various colors. He began his mental checklist as his eyes scanned his workspace: satin, taffeta, silk, charmeuse, brocade, sheer, lacy, ivory, light gold, neutral.

His fingers tapped a tattoo on the table as he sought to calm his nerves. He hadn’t been this nervous since his first runway show. He fiddled with his collar. He was wearing well worn jeans, a burnt red v neck sweater atop a white Oxford, both rolled up at the sleeves, and his lace up boots. He was sporting a few days stubble.

After several minutes, Jamie looked toward the entryway. He walked into the foyer. Marsali pointed to one the siderooms. There he saw Claire speaking on her mobile. Her back was to him, but from the set of her shoulders and the movements of her arms, he knew she was angry.

Her hair was in a low ponytail. She was wearing a leather jacket, a fuzzy knit beanie and light weight wool trousers. He knew he should leave and give her privacy, but he felt rooted to the spot. Abruptly, she turned and saw him. He meant to apologize, but he caught sight of her face. Jamie pushed the door fully open and was at her side in an instant.

“Claire, are ye alright?”

“Ah, Mr. Fra—“

“Call me Jamie.”

Claire brushed an escaped curl from her face. She looked up at him, smiled, and slowly backed away. Jamie realized he was all but on top of her and had lightly gripped her elbow. He immediately took two steps back. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didna mean.. I thought…”

“It’s alright,” she readjusted her cross body purse, “my job.” She shrugged. Claire expected him to drop the matter, but he stood his ground, waiting to see if she truly was okay. “I…one of my patients is very sick,” she explained, “his only hope is an expensive experimental drug, not approved in the U.K.”

Her face was like quicksand, he could read all her emotions as they formed, coalesced, and dissipated. He saw her fear, hopelessness, anger, and determination.

“The hospital is trying to convince the family that conventional treatment is the best course, but they’re wrong. Just bureaucrats more interested in cutting costs and forms in triplicate!” Claire’s fists curled.

Jamie took one step closer. He noticed a small cluster of silver hair near her right temple; the strands threaded through her curls, hiding and peeking through like a swirl of cream through coffee. “Dinna doubt yerself, I’m certain ye’ll persuade them.”

She looked somewhat shocked by his statement. “You have a lot of faith in someone you just met,” Claire replied.

“I know things and I’m a good judge of character,” he gave her a half smirk and bumped her shoulder.

She couldn’t help but smile as she looked into his face. He smelled earthy…sandalwood maybe. He’d grown a bit of facial hair. He really could model his own clothes. She quickly looked down when she realized she was staring.

“Have ye always wanted to be a doctor?”

“Yes. Always. It’s the only thing of which I’ve ever been sure. And to help children…. to see them endure such horrible pain when their lives have just begun,” she shook her head, “I was born to it I suppose.”

Jamie watched as the same stubborn curl fell to her eyebrow. He fought the urge to brush it from her face. “It must take a lot out of ye, to give so much of yerself to help. The bairns are lucky to have ye.”

“Well, it’s my job. No different than anyone else’s, really.” Claire tried to brush off his implication.

Jamie scoffed, “the skill to save a child‘s life? ‘Tis a gift Claire, truly.”

Her face seemed to light up at his words. Jamie realized, inexplicably, that she wasn’t used to being complimented. She smiled and looked away. When she looked back at him, Jamie knew he had been staring longer than could be considered polite. He turned and grabbed a clean sketchbook and pencil that was sitting on a table. Seeing Claire’s curious gaze, “I keep em lying around. Ye never know when inspiration will strike,” he gave her one of his half smiles. He sketched for 30 seconds or so while Claire tried in vain to see his work.

“Shall we?” Jamie moved to the door.

Claire began to follow. “Will I see those?” She pointed to the now closed sketchbook he held in his hand.

“Possibly,” he teased. Jamie couldn’t show her the sketches. The sketches were designs for the spring line, not her gown. Looking at her had dislodged him from the rut he’d been in regarding the line’s direction.

Claire shook her head at him, freeing more curls, “Alright, this will be a good distraction,” she said without thinking. “Oh god.” She cringed and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean that this,” she motioned to his studio, “isn’t important…that what you do—?

“Dinna worry. I understood yer meaning. I may not be saving children’s lives, but I’d like to think I bring a bit of joy into the world.”

He turned and Claire followed him down the hallway.

Claire was soon distracted by his studio. It was enormous. There were huge windows and skylights. She saw long tables covered in fabrics, scissors, measuring tape, pins and that was just what she could identify. There were large standing boards covered with clothing designs. Some were hand drawn, others computer generated. There were mannequins and cameras. The back wall contained a row of large screen desktops.

“Claire, you remember John? He and Marsali will be assisting periodically.”

“Um, yes, hullo.” Claire’s head continued scanning the studio.

Jamie felt an unexpected pride at being able to impress her. She started to wander between the tables, Jamie carefully following behind. “Did you design all…of this?” She waved her hand in the air, her engagement ring glittering in the natural light.

“Mostly, but it’s a team effort. I oversee everything. Set the theme.”

“It’s amazing.” Awestruck, she turned to face him.

It was the first time he’d seen her true smile. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, “thank ye.”

She stopped at the table where he had laid out the fabrics.

“Is this..?” She looked at him for confirmation.

“Aye, feel them.”

She ran her fingers along the fabrics. There was the cool smoothness of satin, the rough snag of embroidered lace, and the uneven bumpiness of an embellished bodice.

“I don’t know where to start,” her voice low.

“That why I’m here. Come.” Jamie winked. Or she thought he winked, it was more like he blinked both eyes. She laughed as he directed her to a wooden step placed before a floor length mirror.

She stepped up and Marsali removed her jacket, revealing her plain black t shirt. Jamie came by her side. While on the step, they were at eye level. His deep blue eyes swimming with mischief.

“I think the color is the first decision,” Jamie stated as he brought the fabrics near her arm, “look at these.” Claire looked at the fabrics in the mirror as he brought each close. “Yer skin is fair…almost pearl like. This would suit ye best.”

She shyly touched her neck. “Oh? And which color is that?”

“It’s a shade of ivory, called ‘forever’. Though... light gold and champagne are also options.” He stepped back to grab more fabric. She peeked at him in the mirror. With his jaw set in concentration, he was completely in his element. She could easily imagine him spending his days and nights here, lost in a frenzy of creation. That passion and calling to a vocation was something Claire understood well.

“Also yer quite tall,” he was saying. He was walked behind her and raised his hands. “May I?”

She nodded. He gently grabbed her ponytail and deftly pinned her hair up; his fingers grazing her neck as he did so. Claire felt the hair on her arms raise at his touch and wondered how many models he had done that for.

“Ye’ll want to show off yer neck, maybe?” He didn’t wait for her answer, but grabbed a sketchbook and began scribbling. He’d look up every so often, furrow his brow, and keep on scribbling.

Claire thought she would dislike being stared at and fussed over like a toy doll, but she felt…excited. A sudden energy hummed throughout her body. She twisted her hands and sighed with relief. She knew Frank worried about her lack of enthusiasm for the ceremony. She assured him she wasn’t a ‘big wedding ceremony’ type, but secretly she worried also. The pressure Frank was under was enormous. He needed her to be present for him on their wedding day; be what he required. She owed him that. Perhaps with Jamie’s help, a little piece of the wedding would be hers also. That would make it easier.

Jamie held out his sketchbook. “What do ye think? Would these suit ye or…Frank?”

She gasped as her hands swept over the pages.

“Yes, yes, they’ll suit.

#house of fraser #outlander fanfic #outlanderprompts #thekingparrot

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opallene · 5 years

Text

You’ve Got a Friend in Me

So... This might be little known about me, but I was deeply into the Toy Story fandom (such as it is/was) back when Toy Story 3 came out in 2010. Yes, I saw the original films as a child in theaters, and yes, Toy Story 3 shattered and wildly surpassed any expectations I might have had going in. It was immediately, and I believe still is, my favorite film. Period. My love for Toy Story 3 is many layers deep. I’ve produced fanfiction (the latter of which has suddenly aged poorly in some respects with the introduction of TS4!) and a carefully curated fanmix that I am still very proud of and still enjoy myself in regular rotation.

So now I’ve seen Toy Story 4. It was certainly a good movie, and also certainly an entertaining entry in the Toy Story saga. Did it live up to its predecessor? No, it didn’t, but I didn’t necessarily expect it to, because that would be a very difficult feat to accomplish at this point. But it had some very strong narrative points, which I’ll attempt to dissect and discuss.

Spoilers for Toy Story 4 ahead.

The thing is - Even though each entry in the series was probably written to be “final” at the time, TS3 brought a level of narrative closure and completeness that the previous films hadn’t. 3 made a perfect trilogy. The end of TS3 led everyone to a metaphorical life-after-life. Their struggles (literally to hell and back) complete, they could finally relax and be their truest selves, “into the wild blue yonder.”

Maybe I was forgetting that every film was actually very much about Woody, and that there were still lessons he could learn (and thereby teach the audience). By the end of TS3, Woody had finally overcome his laserlike loyalty to a particular person -- But, we now realize, not his loyalty to his “career,” and to his very rigid ideas about how to perform that function.

(1) Single-child “Ownership”. This idea has been out there throughout the series -- Either you’re an “owned” toy belonging to a particular person, or you’re “lost” (with a generally negative connotation, up until now). This distinction has been drawn in especially black-and-white terms by Woody himself, while the other toys have been open to a gray area in the middle (e.g. Sunnyside Daycare, TS3). In TS4, Woody is challenged to consider the extreme other end from his position - and lo and behold, he experiences firsthand the merits of it (namely, charitable work to enable other toys to live out their purpose) and decides it’s a shift in thinking that he can live with. By the end of the film - radical character growth accomplished.

(2) Leadership means always being in charge. This was made plain in the beginning of the film. It’s difficult for Woody to fit in when there’s already an established leader, and he just can’t take orders. He continues to act erratically (listening to his “inner voice” and acting on what he thinks is best) throughout the movie. When he’s really out of his element (and his solitary efforts fail), Bo Peep is the only one who succeeds in “leading” him. Woody finally learns to take a back seat when there’s an expert around.

Did Woody make the right decision at the end of the film? For purely personal (sob sob sob) reasons, I want to say “WHAT, how could they?!” For narrative reasons, I’ll resoundingly say Yes. For all the talk Woody has done about the cycle of childhood, “Watching them grow up and then go on to do other things that you never get to see,” and so on, Woody himself has been stuck in a childlike mode perpetually. Now, he has finally gotten to mature.

Exhibit A: He experiences a genuine (romantic) peer-to-peer connection and eventually throws himself into investing in it. I’ve always seen the toy-child relationship as a deified one; a duty that must be done; the only way to Know your Creator, religious overtones and all that. Personally, as a nonreligious person, I am rejoicing inside more than I thought possible to see Woody finally free himself from that dogmatism and to put some focus on an equal, of-his-own-world partnership. He’s broadened his horizons in terms of the types of love that are out there to be had.

Exhibit B: He learns a new type of altruism that is completely non-self-serving (unless you count the positive emotion of gratification as self-serving, but that’s a whole other argument to be had). Let’s face it: Pretty much everything Woody has ever done up until now has been fairly transparently self-serving, even when it’s under the guise of altruism. He is even called out for it point-blank by Bo in this movie. (Yess!) I’m actually very impressed with how the whole “voice box transfer” went down. Gabby started out as your conventional villain, but all it took was an appeal to logic to obtain Woody’s willing participation. Woody was at a vulnerable place emotionally, but I do not believe he was ultimately taken advantage of. Gabby’s logic was accurate and convincing. Organ donation is by definition one of the most selfless things a person can do. After donating his non-essential voicebox, Woody goes on to witness new life breathed into another (and, that person doing what she was meant to do) as a direct result of his gift. In the end, Woody stays on with Bo Peep and the others to perform more “matchmaking” acts of getting toys together with children. The thing that Woody can no longer do himself, he can go on to pay forward through others and make a greater impact in that way. Ultimately, this is how I now see and accept that Toy Story 3 didn’t have to be the end, much as it seemed it should be at the time.

And plus, I like crying at movies. If I’m crying, it means they did something right.

There was one thing that kinda bothered me. As "good with toys” as Bonnie was supposed to be, she really cast Woody aside. Even when Woody and Forky both went missing together, there was nary a mention of Woody’s absence. Brutal. I understand why they had to do this -- to drive Woody’s emotional crisis, to further establish that he really wasn’t needed in his current post and to free him to choose his own path at the end. Also, kids will be kids, and it’s realistic for a child to act that way. Still. Brutal. ;(

I was also disappointed not to see much of Buzz and Jessie’s romantic relationship in this movie (I fell for them, HARD, in TS3), but - This was Woody’s movie. Woody’s and Bo Peep’s - It was their turn. And you can be darn sure, I Felt the Feels. Shout-out to the lighting and color storyboardist(s) for the entire ending sequence of the film. It was perfect. :’)

The pace, at times, was also frenetic. Being a toy has always been portrayed as a stressful existence, but in TS4 it felt like every-time-you-blink-augh-there-he-goes-again-I’m-stressed-out-by-all-the-constant-separation!!

In all, TS4 wasn’t as sweeping of a narrative as TS3, and the themes were nowhere near as universal. It’s hard to beat themes of aging, becoming a burden, feeling your obsolescence, confronting your inevitable mortality (TS3) - And although TS4 obviously touched on the big theme “Why am I here?”, it seemed a little directionless in its execution of that. Are we supposed to relate to Forky’s exhibiting constant suicidal tendencies until he’s taught there is a good reason for him not to be that way? (?) Most living creatures, including humans, have an innate self-preservation instinct, and the will not to live arises under extenuating circumstances, so that didn’t particularly ring true to me.

Where TS4 really shone was in its treatment of Woody’s character specifically. I was pleasantly surprised to see his character elevated another level. There are lessons we can all learn here. It was no TS3, but it was still quite solid and I’m sure it will be getting many of my repeated viewings!

Thanks for reading...Hit me up if you’d like to chat about Toy Story!

#toy story #toy story meta #toy story 4 #woody toy story #meta #ts4 #toy story 4 spoilers

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