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fknhues · 4 months

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end note: 2023

i'm like 21 days late for this closure for 2023. but its taking me awhile to accept 2023 as a whole.

on the bright side, i've managed to settle myself fully and be contented with the life path i've chose towards the end of 2023 and i'm glad i still have the same people i trust and love since the start of 2023. to me, that is the most rewarding part.

somewhere in the almost middle of 2023, i went through a break up with someone whom i saw a future with. but little did i know that that person would go. leaving me in a spiral for three months. though, i did managed to move on during those 3 months while making the wrong choices too. its a habit for me to stay after breaking up as i did foresee a future with him and i thought there was hope. until that one day i drew such a hatred and my body rejected him - which was its way to tell me that its time for me to leave. took awhile for my mind be okay with that. to whoever you are, i hope you're happier without me and i'm sure you can be. i hope you and your family are healthy. i do miss your mother at times and yes, i'll fulfill the promise i've made with her when the time comes. this relationship that was built is still the most bitter to me. anyways, stream typa girl by blackpink.

work wise, i've managed to learn to love my work again with my new role. my team is so lovely even though i'm the only sgrean and the rest are in kl. but the dynamic the 4 of us have is just impeccable. though, i still do have the intention on leaving the company even when i love my team and my job. the company, she ain't it. too many unpredictable changes and sometimes too forceful for results.

family wise, i lost two of my elders on my maternal side in july and in october. i miss them dearly especially my grandfather, whom has protected me and shower me countless loves. hope he's happy up there. his passing was definitely one of my biggest points in 2023. i never thought i would lose him but god loves him more than anyone will ever. everytime i speak about him, i get choked out because there was a period whereby i had to be strong and i didn't process it yet, truly indenial of it. oh on the bright side, my dearest uncle is back. the only sad part about him being back is i am not sure if he knows my grandfather has passed on or not. but i am proud that he is back to civilization now.

friendship wise, i am glad that i managed to hang out with my friends lots in 2023, especially towards the end when i've managed to find balance and be happy again. yes, when i'm upset, i tend to disappear as i don't want anyone to worry about me nor see me in the state of agony. thankful to my two brothers who always entertain my cravings of acai and much impromptu meets by randomly going to changi airport or even vivo for no apparent reasons. thankful to vg always and forever for being my girls till today and being there for me when things get super hard. so blessed to have witness one of the heartfelt weddings ever - i couldn't control my tears, she has certainly went through alot and i am so happy that she's happy and love the life she is in right now.

you thought i was done? nah. guess what? i am blessed to have met someone yet again. when i say again, yes, he was my 2020 valentines date and my only ns girlfriend era i had. we met again in 2023 and we clicked really well. he did something unexpected as others would ask the person they like to be their girlfriend but no. he took out the 'do you want get a bto with me?'. surprise! yeah, we're on that now. wish us luck! still learning about one another because its been 3 years since we last met but boy, i am happy. he treats me kindly and even holds me softly. he reminds me of my 21 self who was still in school - just freedom with a little sprinkle of school stress. so blessed to be working at serangoon so i’m lowkey near him and sometimes i get free rides home hehe. thank you to my man for entertaining my jb staycays. may we go cruises this year. oh & we’re celebrating 2024 valentines together again! anyways, insyaallah we'll get the bto.

also, i've reconciled with the people i fell off friendships with in 2021 and i'm so happy i get to see them again and talk to them again. their humour are apparently all still the same. sending each other failed covers and stupid satire jokes. it makes me feel somewhat wholesome that i'm friends again with the people who were there for me when i was myself completely.

i am contented that i am myself, i am happy and i do not need to lead nor be strong for anyone anymore. i do not associate with the me in may 2023 to august 2023 (sadly my birthday month too) as i genuinely don’t know her. she’s a broken girl who leaned on people who were never meant to stay in her life and for that, i don’t know her. but all i know is, i’ll fight for the people who will fight for me. i’ll support you as much as i can. however, once you give up on me, i’ll only give you A Chance to redeem yourself or else, goodbye.

to my daddy, what the heck man. i haven’t seen you in two years and when my grandfather passed, he came. now he sees my family members more than me?! literally met my uncle before i meet him? chile. but yeah, my situation with daddy hasn’t change. it might when i want to get married but just for the camera, daddy!

lastly, my mom and i rarely fight, which is literally my biggest goal in 2023. so three cheers for me! thank you to my mom for being my biggest life supporter, life advisor, pillow to cry on. to more trips for you, mama!

if you read this until here, thank you for existing and thank you for being there for me.

i love you.

love, nini.

#f:text

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astrolovecosmos · 3 years

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Neptune: Deep Dive

Pink petals

fallen onto

night shaded

waters.

Nothing is ever as it seems.

Wood turned to metal.

Reality turned to dreams.

-Natasha Reeves

The planet Neptune I think is most famous for two things - illusions and dreamy or ethereal associations. A lot of negativity is also commonly associated such as addiction, insanity, guilt, sorrow, denial, and doubt. This planet is complex and just like all the other planets has a huge array of associations. What prompted me to do a deep dive in Neptune? Well for one I’ve been going through the transit of Neptune in Pisces crossing over my IC which has been powerful and I am at the end of my progressed Moon in the 12th House. Also in my own chart I’ve been paying more attention to my natal Neptune placements... which are a lot more prominent and worthy of my attention than I’ve understood and noticed in the past. Honestly I spend a lot more time analyzing others’ charts vs. my own, and I really should have looked more closely at some of my own aspects. I have had a LOT of experience with Pisces influences throughout my life, intense ones. I want to make it clear that Pisces DOES NOT = Neptune. I’ve always wanted to write a whole essay about my experience as a Pisces friend, lover, family member, enemy, etc. An outsiders opinion but that isn’t this. This is a disclaimer because this is going to be both theory and my own experiences. This is a deep dive.

The Sea’s Love and Wrath

Neptune in a lot of mainstream media is described as gentle but this planet can be unpredictable and harsh, with erratic energy that could rival Uranus. Neptune can be about tolerance and kindness, seeing past the ego and material. Neptune can embody or promote unconditional love and forgiveness. Because Neptune can be about dissolving and merging this planet allows us to see ourselves in others, maybe even in everyone allowing for compassion, empathy, and the ability to love very freely and openly. But the illusion and deception of Neptune is its shadow.

Romanticizing and idealizing can be one of Neptune’s downfalls. Many times this is described as putting other’s on a pedestal but this can be applied to any area of life from work to places to ideals. From this those with strong Neptune aspects or prominent placements can find that disappointment is a frequent visitor. Neptune square, opposite, or conjunct Venus can quickly fall for others, trust others, and gravitates towards those they want to help or who have a strong personality they can meld with. Neptune opposite or square Mercury may face the frustration and disappointment of frequently being misunderstood or finding that they easily misread others or trust their words. After feeling tricked there can be wrath to these oceanic bodies.

Where will their vengeance or anger land? It isn’t fair if they idolize you to get mad at you... sometimes their anger is self-loathing and self-destructive, other times they take you down with them. But the lesson is that Neptune can be as soft and as dangerous as the sea.

Enlightenment and Madness

Coming down from the high, was getting lost in Neptune’s blue. Dreams and visions dancing in the back of my mind, when reality is so hard to chew. Sensation used to distract and pieces of stories stitched together to where nothing is fact.- Natasha Reeves

There are many influences that can grant us wisdom or enlightenment throughout astrology, but I don’t see too many writings or posts about Neptune and its connection to enlightenment, nirvana, or eurekas and on the flipside also insanity and denial. Neptune can pull away the fog to give us clarity - especially when looking at the whole of things, the big picture. Neptune can famously also be the fog.

The transit of Neptune crossing over my IC/4th House brought a lot of light to my childhood and how I was raised. However my IC is in Pisces, while Pisces isn’t the same as the planet, and many astrologers believe Neptune is not the ruling planet of Pisces - it is a sign known for illusions, confusion, and vagueness much like Neptune. I came from a place of a lot of secretiveness and vagueness, but when the “planet of illusions” crossed over I found myself accepting the instability and moments I felt lost or clueless in my life as well as looking back with remembering and understanding.

Neptune can represent the part of us that is hard to grasp and understand, it also faces us with the idea that it is okay to have unanswered questions, to not have closure, that many times we have to create that closure or solidity ourselves. Neptune much like Jupiter is a matter of faith whether in ourselves or a higher power.

It should be noted Neptune doesn’t always mean outside sources. Neptune is an introverted, intimate actor. It can represent how we lie to ourselves, trick ourselves, or how we push responsibility off of ourselves. Neptune also allows us to see, understand, more importantly feel what we easily ignore or can’t see.

Life’s Extremes - Our Extremes

“Neptune moves between the greatest extremes: from the highest spiritual awareness through imagination, fantasy, and illusion, to the depths of deceptions and disillusionment. The planet of mysticism, glamour, and enchantment, Neptune exerts a hypotonic fascination.” - Judy Hall.

When many think of extremes they probably think Pluto before Neptune. The blue sphere isn’t going to take away the icy orb’s reputation - Pluto holds tightly in terms of extremes, but Neptune is far from a level-headed, consistent influence. Let’s touch on fantasy and illusion - two things that tends to warn of foolishness or impracticality, but fantasy is part of everyone’s life, no matter how pragmatic or mature an individual claims to be. From coping to manifesting to understanding to enjoying, fantasy is a natural human thing. Think of how often you daydream in an hour, how many books, movies, and games you indulge in, how often you find yourself being tempted by gossip, and how often you find yourself painting a picture of another in your head - negative or positive.

Neptune symbolizes the abstract, importance, and rawness of our fantasies. Individuals with prominent Neptune aspects can find themselves easily tapping into their imagination, falling into escapism frequently, or have a great use for their wild ideas. If you think of the subject of fantasies or illusion as an extreme - it makes sense. You aren’t going to get an interesting story without the gods and monsters. Our sleeping dreams often are filled with strangeness or strong emotions. Clarity to madness, hopeless romantic highs to deeply wounded sorrows, and dissolving/surrendering to becoming whole/complete are common extremes this planet centers around.

I have Mercury Square Neptune which tends to make one doubtful of their own opinions and intellect, can increase misunderstandings, and make communication difficult for the individual. Mercury Square Neptune can make someone highly persuasive and deceptive but it can also make one easily confused, tricked, and manipulated by others. Rationality and intuition can conflict. One experience I have with this aspect is usually swinging from extremes to being very withdrawn and quiet to interrupting others, chatting away. I’ve been described by those in my life as always saying something they didn’t expect - few words but impactful or strange ones. This is an example of the more everyday way Neptune can present itself.

“Neptune-attuned people possess glamour in the old sense of the word: the ability to bewitch. They are also impossible to categorize or pin down, demonstrating the planet’s elusive quality. Lacking strong boundaries, Neptune-attuned people are susceptible to outside influences.” - Judy Hall. It is from these lack of boundaries and fluidness we see Neptune’s extremeness. Neptune aspects can have us take on the traits of others and there is intensity in that. Let’s say we are talking about a Neptune to Mercury aspect, here may be someone who is easily energized or put down by the mood of another. Neptune to Mars can create a volatile person who fights, guards, and pursues based on their inner circle.

Alice: Imagination and Dreams

Personally I tend to associate Alice in Wonderland with Gemini themes. But I’ve seen her used as a metaphor for many placements and influences, such as Scorpio and Pluto. Neptune’s lostness certainly relates to the character and story. Neptune can be the planet of dreams. Challenging aspects to Saturn indicates someone who struggles to get in touch with reality while easy aspects to Saturn indicates someone who can marry big dreams or imagination to practicality.

Neptune to Moon aspects can indicate powerful dreaming - almost intuitive or helpful in processing stress or trauma. So does Neptune in the 12th, 4th, 8th, and possibly 9th. Neptune in the 2nd can mean imagination or even dreams themselves act as a resource, maybe this is through inspiration or increasing one’s belief or confidence. Neptune in the 3rd may find themselves always remembering their dreams and keeping a journal. Neptune in the 5th blessed with all of the fun dreams of flying or dreaming of a favorite fictional character. Neptune in the 6th or 10th may find strikes of inspiration, knowledge, problem solving, or important foresight in their sleep. Neptune in the 11th may find comfort or realize important information about self and/or society in their dreams.

Neptune is a newer planet, many times called the visionary, healer, or spiritual link or messenger. Traditional astrologers can approach the planet with a lot of skepticism. Its exaltation is in creative Leo, detriment in practical Virgo, and fall in usually praised as “visionary” Aquarius. Neptune is still new enough to be a hot topic of debate. You will find many astrologers don’t even agree on the planet’s exaltation, fall, and detriment. Leo is considered one of the most creative sign and on the topic of imagination and dreams Neptune can feel amazing in this sign. It feels confident and shinning in its ideas, fantasies, and magic. Elusive and ever-changing Neptune doesn’t feel comfortable in stable and structured Virgo. But Aquarius is an unexpected challenge for Neptune. Aquarius is about collective action - unity that Neptune also is familiar with. But Aquarius is a cold sign and despite its unconventional side can be highly practical and may dislike unrealistic ideas or approaches. Saturn is Aquarius’s co-ruler after all. Neptune wants oneness as in intimacy, not oneness in action or rebellion like Aquarius. Neptune is the magical moonlit spring to heal all your wounds, especially the emotional and spiritual kind. Aquarius is the soul forge in Asgard from Thor: The Dark World or the hypospray in Star Trek. Aquarius is modern medicine most of the time and when Neptune is dressed in Aquarius’s colors at its best it is advanced medicine we don’t understand yet but are working towards. Neptune in Aquarius can be a genius, but it is about ambitious realism to help others, Neptune at its heart is about helping the individual on the most personal level. Aquarius is random strikes of lightning coming from an active mind while Neptune flows from one spot to another, always connected and coming from an original primal, emotional place. Aquarius is the future, Neptune is outside of time. Aquarius is intellect and Neptune emotions and intuition. Aquarius is rebellion, riot, revolution, Neptune is peace or death and rebirth - Aquarius is the noise and Neptune the silence.

Some believe Neptune’s fall is in Capricorn, which the struggles exist with Capricorn’s strictness and clinging to reality and control. Neptune in Leo is Alice looking regal like a queen or warrior going to fight the jabberwock, Neptune in Virgo can get dark, feeling uncomfortable and maybe in pain, but still important and empowering. Alice in Aquarius or Capricorn is likely a totally new story, adult Alice putting away the tea parties and white rabbits for a lab coat or pantsuit.

What about Healing and the Spiritual?

Let’s get to what Neptune may be most known for. That otherworldly connection, the power of love, transcendence. Neptune is dramatic and it is soothing. Neptune embraces all aspects of the human experience so we can focus more on the soul. Neptune is all about healing and how healing can come in a million ways. It can be fast and hard or slow and revealing. It is painful and messy, it goes in cycles, loops, falls and rises.

Neptune whether the aspects are easy or challenging, whether in a house focused on the self or others, it gives everyone ways to heal and to connect. As an outer planet it gives a lot of insight into generations but in the unique placement of one’s chart it touches us with humanity.

Pretty speeches, enchanting metaphors, crazy nights, and charming lovers lead us to our doom and a raw poem, crying ourselves to sleep, old medicine, late night graveyard walks, and maybe a rebound help us pick up the pieces. Neptune many times shows us that the unexpected is what tears us down and what lifts us back up. It teaches us nothing is inherently bad like substances, manipulation, honesty, authority, it is how it is used. Neptune shows us that you are the hero to some and the villain to others.

Regret, shame, guilt, feeling trapped, isolation, addiction, grief, and sorrow are closely linked to Neptune. I believe many times this is due to the healing process or spiritual associations of the planet. These emotions are heavy and life-changing but they are emotions that many times need to be faced with a lot of bravery and work. They are feelings that also help us come to realizations. Neptune is associated with rebirth and if you examine emotions like regret or shame, sometimes rebirth is the only way you can shed those feelings. Neptune’s fluid nature also allows us acceptance, which is needed to deal with such heavy emotions.

While we always talk about the lack of boundaries as a dangerous or bad thing... and it can be, these lack of boundaries like I mentioned above can allow for a very giving love and empathy, it also allows us to feel or interact with a higher power, magic, and the spiritual. Whatever your beat is - religion, magic, or the belief we are just star stuff, Neptune symbolizes our relationship with it.

#neptune #planet #astrology #zodiac #learn astrology

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whosscruffylooking · 3 years

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The Purest Things-Something There

Warnings: Mentions of murder. Canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 2.5k

a/n: i am so beyond sorry that it has taken this long to get another chapter out. this doesn’t follow my post schedule that i had previously given, but hopefully this can be a good place holder till later this week.

The Purest Things Masterlist

May 2008

Bookend: "It took me quite a long time to develop a voice, and now that I have it, I am not going to be silent." -Madeleine Albright

"There's no way I'm doing that," you rebuttal, "Hotch? Tell them it's a ridiculous idea." He stays silent, but his mouth twitches slightly.

Oh, you son of a-

"Richards is a classic narcissist. The challenge of facing a tough, fearless, and intelligent woman will give him his high. Narcissists are drawn to goal-oriented women, women who are resilient, adaptable, yet decisive. Show him that you are a good listener, but don't praise him."

"Think of him like a wild animal," Spencer adds, "You don't feed zoo animals because they are unpredictable. Remember, narcissists have an extraordinary sense of self, and when you praise his ego, you enable his unstable and feeble mind. He doesn't hear praise; he hears how much better he is than you. If you don't feed the beast, he won't have the stamina to combat your confidence later."

"Once you disarm him, I'll come in and challenge his confidence," Hotch concludes.

Could you have said that less attractively? That would have been more helpful.

Aaron cheekily smirks as if reading your mind but quickly looks away. You wish you didn't blush so fast-that you had some sense to keep your emotions to yourself. In a second, your cheeks are rosy, and you are convinced that everyone in the room can perceive your feelings as if you wrote them on little notes and passed them around.

You grunt and roll your eyes, "I hate all of you."

Derek snaps his fingers at you, "Lose the jacket."

"All men are pigs," you spit while removing your blazer, leaving you in a fitted tank top and your tight-legged jeans that hug your curves in all of the right places.

Derek wolf whistles at you, and you hurl your jacket at him. Aaron lets his eyes slide up and down your body, his gaze lasting longer than it should. He swears that as you stride into the interrogation room, your hips swing a bit farther side to side than usual. It is the very action that radiates courage, a mind coupled perfectly with itself and the world around it, concentrated and solemn.

Typically, Hotch would divert the task of adulating a narcissist to Prentiss, but he knows if anyone can take command of someone's attention, it's you. How does he know? Because you captivate him far more often than he cares to admit, defying his very being with every interaction. You are a secret weapon that he wants to keep concealed until you can allow your talents to shine genuinely. Aaron knows that now is your moment. ++++ "What is it that I am being accused of? Fraud? Embezzling?" The sharp-dressed businessman questions; his gaze is straying further below your eyes than you care for.

Pig.

You throw a file down on the medal table, and it slides across, stopping right in front of the man, successfully redirecting his stare somewhere other than your chest.

"Try murder."

His eyes widen, "You're joking. Come on, where are the hidden cameras? I'm ready for you to yell candid camera now! I am Milton Richards, for god's sake!"

"I don't know!" You shrug your shoulders. "Why don't you explain this to me, Mr. Richards. I'm just as confused as you are. What reason could a successful, charming, handsome, wealthy business mogul like yourself possibly have to kill someone?"

"Oh please," Richards scoffs, "This isn't an interrogation. You've already pegged me as guilty."

"I don't agree, but you have the right to feel how you feel."

He purses his lips, leaning as far away from you as physically possible while handcuffed to the table.

"Milton, why did you try to escape a moving vehicle when my team apprehended you?"

"Just felt like it, I guess," he shrugs mockingly.

"So, something just randomly compelled you to flee the custody of a federal agent?"

Richards leers at you. You stand up and walk around the table, leaning down next to him, "I get it. I do. You're a suave, wealthy, and ruthless business tyrant. You have to cover your tracks-do what it takes to survive."

He raises his eyebrow, turning to face you, your faces mere inches from each other. I got you now.

"Trust me. I know probably better than anyone what it takes to maintain a position you fought your entire life for. I'm a woman; I had to claw my way into the F.B.I. Do you think it's easy being surrounded by a team filled with uncontrolled testosterone? Womanhood requires balls; I see you keep your balls in your pants, cool, cool. Mine are on my chest, up top. As you've so duly noticed."

His eyes flicker to the aforementioned area, and you restrain yourself from gagging.

"And you know what, Richards? I use them every day of my life. Because in my line of business, sometimes I have to take the backdoor to get things done. Why do I get the sense that you were the same way before you became Mr. Wolf of Wall Street? How else does a kid who grew up in the projects become a multi-millionaire mogul by 27?"

"We both know what the other is capable of. C'mon, let's show each other a bit of respect here. No games, let's be upfront with each other," you appeal. ++++ Aaron watches as you work the room like it is your stage. You play the part perfectly. He admires your ability to absorb things and then responded rather than immediately react to douse firey circumstances rather than add to the flames.

Derek finds himself next to Aaron, smugly observing Aaron's visible fascination with you.

"She's fantastic, Hotch," Derek beams with pride. Hotch holds his breath behind pursed lips in an attempt to barricade himself from the feelings of foolish jealousy he feels creeping up.

I know she is. I think I recognize it a little too well.

Aaron knows that Derek will be scrutinizing his reaction to the commendation and refrains from responding.

Of course, Derek reads this lack of a reaction as a response itself. And he finds it strangely amusing. ++++ "Here's what I think happened," you twirl your finger around the manilla file, "I think you were having some money troubles and your top investors caught onto your little games. When you sat down, you volunteered the crimes fraud and embezzlement as reasons you assumed we brought you into custody. You listed them like they are apparent reasons for us to charge you. Those are two areas you are clearly willing to take the fall for and have cause to oblige by."

Opening the file, a photograph is revealed within of a murder victim. Richards shifts uncomfortably in his seat, stifling a cough.

"Do you know this man?"

"N-no," he claims as his eyes flutter from the photo to his hands.

Surprised by his blatant tell, you glance back at the two-way mirror.

Turning back to the suspect with a newfound spark in your eyes, you press harder, "Strike one. Try again."

"Excuse me?"

"The man in the image is Walter Barone, the C.E.O. of Jameson Whitely Associates...your accounting firm. Your company was going bankrupt, Milton. There was nowhere left for you to turn. So, do you want to try that again? This time, answer my questions directly and honestly."

"Walt had a reserve saved for me worth $5 million. Last week when I approached him about dipping into the fund to keep the company afloat, he withheld it. I wouldn't kill him for it, though."

"Well, see, that's the problem here, Milton. When he was found, that little reserve of yours was nowhere to be found. Naturally, you can assume where my mind goes when I try and put two and two together, right?"

"I told you," he says, clearly provoked by your accusation, "I wouldn't...didn't kill him."

"Wasn't it you, in your book, right? Who said, 'It's surprising what a man will do when properly motivated?' I don't know about you, but losing everything you'd ever worked for and having your one saving grace held from you seems like pretty good motivation."

Silence. "Oh, come on, Milton, now is not the time to act so arrogant!"

He slams his fists on the table; you abstain from being startled in an attempt to show him no fear.

Wild animals can smell fear.

"Arrogant, huh? Why don't you step up and prove me wrong? Prove you're better than me. You despise me for being successful; I despise you for your assumption that you could waltz in here like a tramp and seduce me into giving myself up. What? Too harsh? I'm not sure you and I are even the same species."

Hotch bursts into the room, and you quickly signal for him to stand down. I've got this.

He gives you a prideful wink. I know you do.

Somehow Aaron being in the room gives you that last little push to conclude this grand performance of yours. Slowly, you begin clapping dramatically for his little one-person comedy act. He certainly knows how to play the fool.

"Is that a dare? Challenge accepted. Your entire life, you have suffered from a disease... a fragile ego. You have built these walls of detachment so that you can conveniently solicit status to hide your true, weak self. You lash out because you feel it compensates for your insecurities."

"The truth is, despite being at the top of the corporate chain, every day you lead the life of a loser. You are willing to destroy people psychically, emotionally, and mentally. And you view that as a cause for celebration. You are the embodiment of a loser and abject failure."

Hotch touches the small of your back; you shiver at the sudden warmth that fills your body in reaction to it. He hands you a piece of paper, one that seals Richards' conviction.

"Milton Richards, you are under arrest for the murder of Walter Barone, Hank Simmons, Frankie Lisbon, and Jillian Ryder."

Hotch motions for you to do the honors.

"By all means, lead the way."

Holding yourself proud and tall, you waltz over to Milton and hoist him out of his chair. Inclining your lips to his ear, you tell him contemptuously, "You lose." ++++ "Way to go, superstar! You had us all on the edge of our seats," Derek says, wrapping his muscular arms around you. You breathe in his cologne and savor the sensation of being in his arms.

Since the day you met Morgan, you've felt a draw to him. Not in a romantic way, though you proudly admit he is hands-down one of the most gorgeous men to set foot on earth. He gives you the feeling of safety, warmth, and brotherly love. His hugs rejuvenate you after a long day of work, and you see to it that neither of you leaves the office without receiving your signature embraces.

Aaron observes you and Derek's shared embrace from the shelter of his office. Before he can comprehend his movements, his legs carry him to the terrace overlooking the bullpen.

What do you think you're doing, Hotch? Pull yourself together. They’re friends. Just like you and her are.

Dismissing his inner voice of reason, he calls out to you, "Y/L/N. See me in my office."

You grimace at his tone of voice but abide by his request.

Derek chuckles, "Green is not that man's color."

"What?" You turn to him, confused.

"Goodnight, superstar."

"Night, handsome," you blow him a kiss, trying to brush his comment out of your mind. ++++ "You summoned?"

Aaron's whiskey-colored eyes meet yours. The tempo of your heart quickens like a metronome.

"You did a phenomenal job in there."

"I've learned from the best." You. I've learned from you.

He clears his throat, "Those things you said...a-about the men on this team. Is that how you truly feel?"

Shocked by his willingness to believe such a misleading statement, you gasp and close the distance between the two of you.

You must have some nerve to believe that I would ever view you as anything other than the most upstanding man I've ever met.

"Aaron, what I said in there is further than the truth than I would have liked to have strayed. In fact, it was with you that I finally felt equal as a human being-like someone recognized me for my intellect and self-worth. A woman can't acquire that regardless of how 'equal' this world claims to be."

Aaron finds himself lost in your eyes, absorbing every meaning behind your words.

"It was a freeing feeling having someone I respect so highly show me similar respect."

No. Don't stop talking. Please. Hotch blushes at his inner monologue, incapable of comprehending precisely what kind of influence you hold on him.

"Anyway," you laugh, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen in your face, "Sorry for my little tangent."

"No," Hotch interjects firmly, "Never apologize for expressing your feelings. I assured you last year that I'll always be available as a sounding board for you. That offer still stands."

Your gaze softens as you study him, his intentions, his mannerisms. He notices your pupils dilate, and it commences a chain reaction within his veins. To him, it's not the fact that you radiate beauty on the outside. Sure, you are physically fit and put in the effort to maintain your appearance. Naturally, that would be why someone like Derek Morgan would have you on his radar.

But, Aaron has gradually grown accustomed to the kindness that you seem to reserve just for him. He sees the differences between how you act around the team versus when you step inside his office or are alone in the car with him, even the way your confidence elevates when he walks into the interrogation room.

These differences aren't unique to just you, though. Aaron notices the same changes in himself when he is around you. Never did he expect to go home from work and lie in bed thinking about the way your eyes strayed on his for a moment too long, or how as he completed paperwork at his desk, he'd replay in his mind a cheesy joke you told the team. He knows how you like your coffee from observing you in the break room one too many times.

One cream, two sugars.

Your laughter warms his body from the inside out. When you talk about your favorite comic book with Prentiss and Morgan, the twinkle in your eye never fails to bring a smile to his face. He knows that you hate getting out of the car when it rains because your perfectly straightened hair that you spent god knows how long on will undoubtedly curl.

His changes were less evident on the outside. But, he knew that deep down, there is something there that wasn't there before.

Tag List:

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uraharashouten · 3 years

Text

Shouten Out Loud Podcast

Episode 1: Ricardo Montalbán Part 2 [ continued from Part 1 ]

Yoruichi: Are you sure these are the right time coordinates?

Tessai: I am highly confident.

Yoruichi: Well, it sure seems like “we” aren’t here.

Past Kisuke: Oh, hey, you two are back early!

Tessai: Yes. Early. We are back early.

Yoruichi: Something came up.

Tessai: Now, where were we?

Yoruichi: Ricardo Montalbán.

Tessai: Yes. Speaking of him, please allow me to introduce Soul Society’s own venerable, world-renowned, and incredibly handsome Mexican actor. You may have seen him in such movies as Once Upon A Time In Mexico, The 13th Warrior, and Assassins! Just don’t ask him to take his shirt off—it's too sexy! Please welcome... Westly Hartford!

Yoruichi: How did you find working with Sylvester Stallone?

Westly: A-ah.. Thank you... uh... I don't remember working with Sylvester Stallone...! Haha... I’m... American…

Tessai: American? Hmm... please allow me to check my notes... [ papers shuffle ]

Tessai: Hm. Well, unfortunately, my information appears to have been incorrect. It seems you are better known as a... prognosticator of events.

Tessai: As a self-proclaimed Oracle, did you find Karakura just as you expected it?

Westly: Yes, and more! It’s perfect.

Yoruichi: [ coughs ]

Tessai: And would you say the same of the inhabitants of the Urahara Shōten?

Westly: Of course. You’re all amazing. Jinta-kun can be a little rough at times, but he’s cool.

Tessai: I think you will find us all in general agreement on that point. Is there anyone or anything that you have encountered since arriving that has defied your expectations?

Westly: Well... not really. Everyone is pretty much how I expected them to be. Strong, smart... fun. Urahara-san can be scary at times, but I think it’s because his thought process can be very unpredictable.

Yoruichi: That’s certainly one way of putting it.

Tessai: … I suppose it depends on who you are.

Yoruichi: See, I’m not the variable one around here.

Tessai: I understand your own arrival here was unpredictable enough to fluster our Tenchō. As I recall, he took considerable interest in your unique bracelet. Would you mind describing it for our listeners, and sharing its significance for you?

Westly: Oh... um, sure. It’s a replica of Ishida Uryū’s bracelet. The one his grandfather had. I connect to Uryū... so, I wear it for him. So I don’t feel so alone. It was a gift, and I’ve treasured it since.

Tessai: I see. And has Ishida-san come to appreciate that fact?

Westly: I don’t think so... when I met him, he seemed almost angry. I get that reaction a lot... so, I don’t mind it.

Tessai: Perhaps he will, in time, considering the significant role he and his father will be playing in your near future.

Past Kisuke: [ background audio ] What was that?

Yoruichi: I think that’s quite the aspirational notion.

Westly: True. But if he hates me, I’m okay with that…

Yoruichi: However... You didn’t really answer the earlier question about coming here as an American. What would you say was the biggest change you had to deal with?

Yoruichi: Was it the squat toilets?

Westly: Yeah, kinda. I don’t have very good balance and due to injuries to my back in the past, it's hard to squat down to use them!

Yoruichi: They do require a certain range of motion in the ankles. Don’t worry, even the Japanese hate them. They only persist because of economics.

Tessai: I believe Tenchō retained them as long as he did simply for the aesthetic. It is fortunate that our facilities had been upgraded by the time you arrived.

Yoruichi: I wonder who was responsible for that.

Westly: Yeah! [ soft laughter ] I wonder...

Tessai: When it comes to your prognostications, you have a self-imposed limit, do you not? Would you care to explain that?

Westly: [ sighs ] One question, one answer. One per person per day. It’s to keep everything in order and to keep myself safe. I know Aizen isn't a threat right this moment, but he still is one. Anyone with a mind like his would use my knowledge to hurt the Soul Society and the World of the Living. So I use that rule to the fullest... but hints now and then never hurt to steer everyone in a safer direction.

Tessai: Please allow me to assure you that there is no need to be as circumspect as usual. Our listeners will understand your concerns.

Yoruichi: Doesn’t this security schema rely on an assumption that minds like Aizen’s—or say, Kisuke's—can’t, Sherlock Holmes-like, reassemble the whole picture from the clues they may gain access to?

Westly: Out of all the possible outcomes, only one can come to light. So the one they think might happen may not happen, with or without my hints or answers.

Yoruichi: Well, wouldn’t the ultimate threat really be something like Tsukishima stabbing you with his Fullbring and gaining unrestricted access to your entire timeline?

Westly: I dunno if that would be possible... besides... he’s currently not that much of a threat. Now that Ginjou has been taken care of by Ichigo.

Yoruichi: [ clears her throat ]

Tessai: Hartford-san, is there a particular outcome you would hope to see avoided at all costs?

Westly: … Yes... but... if it doesn't happen... all hell could break loose and become worse...

Tessai: It is—we do not—it is beyond the scope of this podcast—

Yoruichi: I too dread and fear the possible return of New Coke.

Tessai: … The fault is mine; the question was too broad. Perhaps instead I should ask: do you at times find yourself overburdened with the knowledge you possess? Is it tempting to divulge it all?

Westly: … Yes. It... it is...

Yoruichi: You could always write it all down and leave scattered clues leading to where it was hidden, all in... one piece.

Westly: I don’t think that would work for me, Yoruichi...

Tessai: It requires a certain flexibility of character...

Yoruichi: That’s a funny way of saying, “The price of airfare is quite high.”

Yoruichi: Maybe if somebody would pay higher wages...

Westly: I’m okay... really. [ soft laughter ] But... yeah. If I just reveal it all, I could get in big trouble... I’m just lucky I ended up here and not the Soul Society.

Tessai: If Hartford-san would appreciate a secure location where it may not be found, perhaps I could assist. If nothing else, such an archive would be invaluable to future research, I am sure.

Westly: Yeah... it probably would...

Tessai: I will leave a note to myself.

Yoruichi: Well, at least Nicholas Cage will be affordable.

Yoruichi: Here’s a question: if you could give your past-self one bit of advice, whether that was before you arrived here or immediately after, what would it be?

Westly: … Before... I’d say: “You’ll be somewhere better. Just wait. You’ll be okay.”

Past Kisuke: That's good advice regardless of circumstance. —Would someone care to explain why—

Yoruichi: And after?

Westly: … After? I’d probably say... “You're home.” But I’d say it’s for my own mental health...

Past Yoruichi: What in the hell...?

Yoruichi: I knew I should’ve brought the eyepatch. Well, time is a luxury we don’t have!

Past Kisuke: Wait, are they like, reigai?!

Tessai: Please do not ask questions, Tenchō!

Yoruichi: We’re Martians, don’t think too hard about it! [ sharp explosion sound ]

Wes: A-ah! What’s happening…!?

[ outro plays ]

#[[ Shouten Out Loud ]]#[[ Episode 1 ]]#[[ Part 2 ]]#[[ in which Tessai and Yoruichi travel to the past #to interview Westly Hartford before the TYBW #conflating Ricardo Montalbán with Antonio Banderas #and the latter with Westly himself #and making a gratuitous SNL reference in the process ]]

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snowdice · 4 years

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Gaps in His Files (Part 7) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

After Logan finished eating, Patton showed him his office. First, he was given his personal and work files which were familiar in organizational structure even if they had years’ worth of new information in them and his work files had a new subfolder for teaching instead of being purely for schoolwork. Yet, the thing that most interested Logan was the new file designation which Patton retrieved for him by finding a key in a hidden desk drawer compartment and using it to open a secret compartment in the wall. The files there were red and completely new to Logan. Thankfully, they still had quite a bit of structure that he was able to pick up quickly and there were easy to read tables of contents with understandable subsection titles.

He flipped curiously through the first few. They reflected the story Patton had told him earlier in content as well as form. The beginning files were either blue for work or plain white since his foray into superherodom had started from an academic source.

Though he had not known Logan at the time by his own admission, Patton’s knowledge of his early days of being a superhero were perfectly accurate based on the files. That combined with his knowledge about where the files were in the first place, stroked Logan’s curiosity regarding the man even more. Logan was not a trusting person, at least he had not been at 18, and he imagined not much had changed in the last 10 years. So, he had to wonder what it was about Patton that had made him willing to share so much about his life and clearly heavily protected aspects of his life at that. He did not imagine he would share his exploits as a hero with just anyone.

And, if it were just his exploits as a hero, perhaps he would have even understood that. It was good to have an ally, especially one with useful skills such as a doctor. Yet, Patton’s knowledge went deeper than even that to things more personal, ones not in these files or any of his others. He knew things about Logan: his favorite color, why he prefers some fabrics over others, and stories that had never left his lips in his current memories.

Why? He had to wonder. What made this person so different than everyone else?

Certainly, he could see the appeal of him as a romantic partner in the theoretical sense.

He was a doctor which was useful considering Logan’s superhero status likely led to physical injuries sometimes. In addition, that was a well-paying, respectable job, though it did have an unpredictable work schedule. Achievement in that field spoke of enough intellect to be on par with Logan even if they were in different areas.

He was also clearly adequately skilled in other things. He had managed to find Logan and get him back to his apartment and seemed to have enough emotional control to do what was necessary in the situation.

This was someone he imagined his parents would have likely expected for him as a romantic partner (if they expected anything at all). Though, Logan did have to worry that if they were both not particularly emotionally expressive then there may not be a good balance in the relationship.

Logan watched as he flipped through one of his personal files to get a picture from his college graduation to show him with practiced ease. He was comfortable around Logan’s organizational system, he noted. That was something no one had ever bothered to be before. Most people either tolerated or scorned the way he kept his files, but Patton knew his way around it almost as well as Logan himself, better in fact when it came to the new red files, fingers always flipping to the correct pages in seconds when Logan asked questions.

It was nice to have someone care enough to learn it.

It felt as though something shifted marginally inside his chest at the thought of someone being patient enough to learn how Logan organized his life. To do so was to basically learn how Logan’s mind worked. He… hadn’t known that was something he might want.

Oh.

That, he suddenly knew with clarity, that was why. Or at least part of why. It had to be.

“So,” Patton broached suddenly, likely catching him staring and wonder why, “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

Logan blinked at him. “You already know me. Better than I do myself at the moment.”

“Sure, but I’ve only known versions of you that I’ve known.”

“Yes. That is typically how reality works.”

“Well not today,” he pointed out and… fair point. “Plus, maybe you’ll start to remember more if you start talking about yourself. Like when you’re trying to remember the title of a song so you sing the lyrics you know until you get to the point where they use the title in the song.”

Logan considered that. “That sounds like a rational strategy to try. What should I talk about?”

“Well, I know a lot about the events that happened in your life, but not really what you thought about them at the time. What are things you like and dislike in your life right now. You know,” he paused, “what are things you find annoying? Stuff like that.”

“I like coffee,” Logan said after a moment of consideration, “and school. Libraries. I like order and schedules and it makes me uncomfortable when things don’t go to plan. I don’t like impromptu things or eating outside. I don’t really like when people are overly emotional or when they cry mostly because I never know how to respond. I don’t like my English teacher because she once had a mental breakdown crying about a dream she had for 30 minutes when a student asked her if she’d graded our papers. Also, she was homophobic. I like math and science and my parents. Though, I dislike when they insist, I try to go out and “have fun.” I especially disliked when they set me up with a date for the homecoming. When I said I didn’t want to go especially with a girl they set me up with a boy for the next dance which was… nice as they attempted to listen to me, but they entirely missed the point. I dislike messes. I like jam. I want to major in math and physics and get my PhD in at least one… that seemed to work out. My calculus teacher was my favorite even though everyone else seemed to resent her, but we also mostly all passed the advanced placement test, so I think it was worth it. Also, she was kind.”

“You had a homophobic English teacher?” Patton asked.

“Ah, yes, did I never mention?” Logan asked. “She made her views known to a boy in the year below me and got fired a month ago.”

“You never told me about that.”

“Perhaps I decided she was no longer worth dwelling on. The man who took her place seems adequate, though I am not in his class. I also like my current English teacher. She says she got her teaching degree later in life and before that used to be a cultural anthropologist. She tells us stories about different places she’s been.”

Patton smiled. “She sounds interesting,” he said.

“Yes, and it is quite an interesting course. It is an extra one beyond what I must take to graduate. We write a research paper over the course of the entire semester.” Logan paused for a long moment. “This does not seem to be doing anything.”

Patton nodded. “Okay,” he said. “That’s fine. We’ll try something else. Maybe we should have lunch first though.”

Logan was starting to feel a bit hungry. “That is a good idea.”

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 8

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #tsss #superhero au #memory loss #past child abuse #past child neglect #emotional suppression #self deprecation #gaps in his files #labeled universe #relabeled; refiled #adriana writes

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therappundit · 4 years

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***The Top 10 Rap Albums/Projects of 2019*** are...

At the end of the decade, the rap music genre finds itself with a more splintered and diverse fanbase than ever before. What did that mean for 2019? A push towards different styles which was balanced out by a strong grassroots revival of jazzy, soul-inspired sounds that echoed back to the heyday of the mid-to-late 90′s underground hip-hop scene.

In 2019, the lanes that travel more closely to what most would consider “mainstream” rap, struggled to find new inspiration without as much artistic direction to act as a template. This created a bit of a hole for some, as the absence of new material from Kendrick Lamar or Isaiah Rashad, or the disappointing reception to highly anticipated releases from the likes of Chance The Rapper, Schoolboy Q or Kanye West, left the gate open just wide enough to allow more Young Thug disciples, more aspiring Futures, and more cookie cutter “want to be the next Drakes” to flood your streaming platform.

But let us be clear: 2019 was still a great year for rap music because the underground feasted. Scroll further, and you will see that point made by my list of the best rap projects released in 2019 (and in some cases, releases that are amongst the decades best). I used the following criteria for this year’s list:

- the album/mixtape/EP/project/WHATEVER you want to call it had to be released by Dec. 20th, 2019 (arguably still way too soon to craft a well-informed review of an artists’ project)

- the project must have at least 6 songs (arguably still too small of a sample size to compare to lengthier projects)

- these rankings are a *combination* of my own personal preference, overall quality, and how the final product compares to other work from the artists’ peers that occupy the same lane/”sub-genre” of rap music

Regardless of how you feel about this list, I hope that you visit (or re-visit) any one of these pieces of strong work and find the same level of enjoyment that I did. I loved so much rap music this year and I could not be more excited about what the future holds. On a personal note, in 2019 I found myself even more in love with my wife, feeling luckier than I have in a long time, more satisfied with my hobbies and passions, and above all else, more in awe of my child (and anyone that ever raised a child) than ever before. I became a father for the first time in 2019, so as my baby daughter continues to fill my heart, I am beginning to wonder what she will think of her father’s love for this art form that has brought him so much joy over the years...I suppose time will tell.

Salute to these artists below and so many, many others. 🙏🙏🙏

Much love to all,

Jason, THE Rap Pundit

10. It Wasn’t Even Close - Your Old Droog

Your Old Droog is a unique, stand alone artist - I want to make that larger point perfectly clear - but after I finished listening to Droog’s trio of terrific projects in 2019, and sat down to right this blurb, on It Wasn’t Even Close, I thought of three people (and not the one you think I’m going to say!): Royce Da 5′9″, MF DOOM, and Joe Pesci in Goodfellas.

I thought of Royce because more than any other artists, I think Royce and Droog both get dismissed as “punchline rappers” because of their punchline-heavy rhyme styles, but both make incredibly personal, perspective-driven music (not their fault you’re not listening closely enough). I also thought of DOOM because YOD is able to create an insular rap world with his projects that incorporate fantastic production ranging from off-the-wall to bleak as hell, paired with hard rhymes that can be both dope af and laugh out loud funny - but without the gunplay and drug dealer talk. And why Pesci?? Because it’s not always clear when Droog is going to come off with a well crafted joke, or a painful reveal of the dark thoughts behind the man...but that is what makes him such a compelling MC.

Of his three 2019 albums (Jewelry is not being acknowledged here because in the holiday shuffle I haven’t had any time to sit with it yet, but I like what I have heard thus far), the transportation themed and appropriately titled Transportation might show the most range as a song-maker, but it’s the relentless thump of It Wasn’t Even Close that lands a top 10 spot on my list. His recent work with Mach-Hommy seems to foster a free-wielding spirit in Droog, from surprise project releases to unpredictable themes. The bars come in great abundance throughout IWEC, and most of the finest moments from Droog come when he his dropping brilliant one-liners over production that does indeed point to the world being about to end (perhaps all too appropriate for the bizarre news feed that was 2019).

Your Old Droog has too much to say, too many thoughts to simply dumb down his lyrical content to create a focused song that just addresses one singular idea, so he makes the right choice on It Wasn’t Even Close to touch on as many of his manic thoughts as possible. Droog is like a great stand-up comedian that knows his audience and will do whatever he wants with his material because he knows that is one of the things that keeps his audience coming back, but within each joke is a revealing kernel of truth that should be taken seriously. Because whether you see it on stage or not, working stand-up comedians often dedicate themselves to comedy because there is no other way to harness all of the fast moving, often dark and uncomfortable thoughts in their head. I can’t say if that’s the case with Your Old Droog, but he is certainly an artist that raps with the sense of humor - and unexpectedly deep thinking - of a great stand-up.

9. Guns - Quelle Chris

Circling back to my comment about 2019′s depressing news cycle in the above Your Old Droog post (can’t be a coincidence, given that Quelle, Droog and Hommy are all frequent collaborators), can you think of a more to-the-point and overdue rap album title for this moment in America’s history than Guns?

Quelle Chris can stake a claim as having one of the greatest under-appreciated catalogues in rap history. The gifted rapper and producer has blessed us with many great projects over the years, and he tends to excel at making a point without sacrificing the enjoyment factor of his music. Much like last year’s Everything’s Fine (his brilliant collaboration with fellow dope artist and wife Jean Grae), it’s his use of satire on Guns that prevents the project from dipping a toe too deeply into the gloom of the subject matter. Guns is a wonderfully scored portrait of how the United States’ connection to violence fosters increasingly more violence, and the symbiotic relationship between violence and the tools that wield it. Quelle is not a gangsta rapper, and he does not support violence, but as a black man in this country and a rapper, he is pulled into a wide set of false assumptions. An artist like Quelle doesn’t avoid false assumptions or challenging subjects, he tackles them with a great deal of thought and care. Sure, Guns has some light-hearted moments, but at the rate that people are being shot and killed by guns in this country (especially the rate of black men and women, as wells as members of other minority groups), a successful satire is often one that leaves the audience sitting in reflective silence rather than uproarious laughter.

8. Hitler Wears Hermes 7 [HWH7] - Westside Gunn

2019 was such a triumph for Griselda Records’ journey of doubling down on their sound rather than adapting, and reaching even higher profile success by doing so. While providing less controversial cover art on the 7th installment of his Hitler Wears Hermes series may be seen as a bit of a (increasingly necessary) compromise, the collective continues to sustain a steadily growing fanbase by keeping their music honest and gritty.

While not as grounded in the traditional as Westside Gunn’s FLYGOD, HWH7 provides a highly satisfying glimpse into the world of Griselda's impresario, the best example since Supreme Blientele. That means an indulgent dose of dusty soul samples, fashion trends, wrestling references, impeccable guest verses, and a general sense of fun-loving mayhem that could only be characterized by a representative of a shining underdog of a city with a scrappy chip on its' shoulder like Buffalo. Anyone that knows Buffalo New York knows that it's a city as filled with love as it is cold during frequently brutal winters. That's the type of town needed to shape a raw diamond like Gunn, who is as unpredictable with his rap cadence as he is respectful of the great MCs around him.

Westside Gunn and the whole Griselda gang provide a vibe that brings the best out of even the most experienced rap veterans (for example, I haven’t heard Fat Joe rap this well in years). Whatever their secret recipe for success has been (besides a relentless hustle and fresh talent), Hitler Wears Hermes 7 is another great example of how the collective’s energy is so contagious that established artists are eager to fall in line with their vision, Griselda doesn’t adapt to their guests. And can we finally end this ridiculous notion that Westside Gunn isn’t a dope MC in his own right? Don’t let the sharp rhyme skills of Conway and Benny distract from the fact that Gunn brings a real outside the box approach to how he attacks a beat, he’s as fly with his word choice as his fashion rep.

7. Eve - Rapsody

Rapsody is a great rapper.

Not a great “female MC”, not a “good for a woman” rapper...so knock off that bullshit right now, it’s 2019 people (well, technically 2020 - but I meant to finish this whole post before the ball dropped, but I dropped the ball). :-/

Rapsody has been an underground darling for so long that I am not sure if you can technically refer to her as underground hip-hop artist anymore? Check the discography and you will see that the North Carolinian has quite an impressive list of good projects to her name - all of which helped build the revere that her peers feel towards her when they say her name. While she did not ask for cult status, she certainly inherited cult status as the MC that snippy underground heads like to point to whenever they feel like Nicki Minaj or Cardi B are receiving too much too soon. Of course this sentiment is completely unwarranted - and almost always driven by angst against a fanbase rather than the more famous artist his/herself - but it doesn’t stop the conversation from coming up again and again...so why doesn’t Rapsody have more mainstream success? Should she be mentioned in more conversations as one of the best rappers in the game? And should she be receiving more credit as a woman in a male-dominated genre of music that managed to build a fanbase without pumping more graphic sexuality into her music, or showing off her body?

Well, all the answers to these questions snake up to the same problem, because apart from gender, Rapsody, Nicki, Cardi, and Megan The Stallion all share something else in common: they’re all just trying to get their piece of the pie in a sexist industry (more like society - but that’s a much larger convo) and it’s 100% not their fault. Please try to understand that Rapsody is going to do what she does on a record, and Nicki will do the same, and to expect either artist to do the same type of record is as absurd as expecting Conway The Machine to make a Drake album. Whatever your gender identity may be, you are entitled to craft your sound to be as mainstream or underground as you want it to be, just do you.

So in a way, it would make sense that Rapsody would drop the best album of her career in a year where the mainstream rap scene was shallow, mostly unremarkable, and full of holes. I’m not at all saying that that’s the reason why she received more press off of Eve than on most of her previous works, but in a rare twist, industry trends did provide a bit of an assist in the publicity department. However, the acclaim for Eve has less to do with industry trends, and a lot to do with just how good the music is on this album.

Eve is a celebration of black women, but not as a “ladies night at the bar”, one time only rap album gimmick, but as a personal and informative album where every track is named after an influential woman of color, and the star of the album just happens to be a black woman that also hopes to be remembered as an influential woman of color. Eve is as much a braggadocious claim for respect from a dope MC as it is a humble diary of a veteran rap artist that’s still very much in her prime. The production choices range from intentional reinterpretations of the familiar, to fresh takes that successfully ride the line between what we would traditionally call “mainstream” or “underground”. At the end of the day, Rapsody’s Eve manages to start a conversation about the importance of black women in the history of the world, but while filling in the details with reminders that she deserves the respect of being treated as just another great MC.

6. Zuu - Denzel Curry

There may not be a more important album reflecting the sound of a specific city in 2019 than Denzel Curry’s Zuu.

His ode to the Carol City neighborhood of Miami, Florida was a long time coming. Zuu would not have been possible had he not experimented with different approaches in the past. He has dabbled in the same woozy, screaming raves of his fellow Floridian peers, and flirted with expressionism (especially on his previous album, TA13OO), but it all really came together on Zuu. A loose, more casual approach to song crafting on this album built a city on a clean slate. Much in the same way that Juvenile and Mannie Fresh’s “Ha” painted as vivid a picture of the feeling of being in the Magnolia projects of New Orelans as any city homage in rap history, Denzel Curry deserves a ton of credit for collaborating with perfectly selected producers to capture a sound that feels as sweltering as Curry’s place of origin.

While Zuu could stand on atmosphere alone, Curry is also at his best as a MC on this album. His pen is hard at work here (even though he claimed this album did not come with much actual writing), and he showcases a control over his flow and a charisma that proves that he is a stand alone artist to stay glued to moving forward. While the production aesthetic may be providing the broad strokes of color, his lyrics are adding the finer details throughout, discussing his father’s life and in general, the anxiety of growing up in a Miami neighborhood where sunny days are never promised. Zuu is a great album start to finish.

5. Marcielago - Roc Marciano

Roc didn't technically *need* to drop an album this year. His 2018 was one of the most prolific in his career, and for his increasingly less niche core fanbase, the impact on his respective lane is crystal clear, be it by open shout-out from his peers, to more subliminal homages. But it's that last point that inspires Roc Marciano to suit up and dramatically emerge from the gate every year or two. He has that Jordan/Jay-Z gene that suggests that no matter how many accolades are racked up over the years, any internet troll has the potential to get Roc's blood up. Which is why it should come as no surprise by this point that the man that gave us Marcberg, Reloaded and a stack of other revered projects, still felt the need to remind his "sons" that he is one of the Masters of his art form.

As an exercise in word choice and turn of phrase, Marcielago is more of a flex than an attempt to push new boundaries. But as a display of Roc Marci's (somehow) still understated skill as a producer, it's so much more - possibly his best work behind the boards. While less experimental with his production choices than on his acclaimed Rosebudd projects, Marcielago finds Roc doubling down on his ability to color within the lines of a gritty, soulful soundtrack to a world of seductive criminal activity, occasionally swerving outside of the lines with great intention, like a record skip, reminding the listener that this world is part autobiography, part fantasy - but the imagination of the man at the center is scary real. The piano sample alone on "I.G.W.T." is enough to provoke a smokey zone out, and the beat switches on that track as well as others (such as "Tom Chambers") are captivating because the switch-ups drive focus, not a choice derived from an overindulgence in production or onset boredom.

Many rap artists can claim to have made a great impact on their respective lane of traffic, but not many can claim that they paved their own. Roc did not invent the New York underground sound by any means, but when most of the New York crew abandoned ship, the captain stuck with it. ✊

4. The Plugs I Met - Benny The Butcher

Let's make this perfectly clear: Griselda Records has been dope af for years now, and nothing changed about their game plan in 2019 except that they had significantly more press to help continue pushing their brand forward. That press helped them put a ribbon around a tremendous year of music for them, along with a rapidly growing bandwagon of websites and online influencers that were previously asleep at the wheel.

That all being said...in 2019, the rap world really learned about Benny The Butcher. The Buffalo lyricist and Griselda & BSF rap capo has been spitting for years now, but word has finally reached his peers that he is pretty close to untouchable when it comes to this game called rap. Benny took things to another level with his short but potent dose of an album, The Plugs I Met. Much like Pusha T (an appropriate guest here on “18 Wheeler”), please do not dismiss Benny as just another street hustler rapping about cocaine dealing. It’s not the subject matter that’s special here, it’s the attention to detail. Benny’s ability to describe the life he leads/has lead, and what he has been through with his writing is nothing short of brilliant, and he is able to rattle off astute observations/descriptions with his rhymes about the world he knows at a level that I would only compare to B.I.G., Nas, Jay-Z, Kool G Rap, Push, Beanie Sigel, and other legendary MC’s that have a unique way with words when it comes to tales of crime life.

But what more can I say about Benny the rapper/warrior poet that I haven’t been saying for years? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

https://therappundit.tumblr.com/post/143774514306/neighborhood-watch-benny

3. We Grown Now - Tree

Tree is a legend. If he’s not a legend in the conversations you are currently having about the best rap projects of 2019, then you need to remedy that. Perhaps you can downgrade him to “just” a Chicago legend, but I would disagree on the grounds that musically, he’s a legend when it comes to who he is as a rap artist, and I don’t really care that this album isn’t on anyone else’s top best of lists, it’s AOTY worthy material...

Tree is a veteran rapper/producer that seems to have a love-hate relationship with the rap business (well, maybe it’s strictly hate when it comes to rap as a business, but he raps with too much conviction for me to believe that he doesn’t love rapping - even when he’s jaded by it all). Why he isn’t heralded as an icon across every rap website today isn’t exactly clear to me (and I have already made too many assumptions on the intents of the artists on this list), but after being in a bit of a slumber, the purveyor of “soul trap” seemed to rise high once again in 2019, striking his fanbase with numerous projects that read as autobiographical diaries, including a dope collaboration with Vic Spencer, producer Parallel Thought, and this amazing album, We Grown Now.

Whether it’s attempting to find closure from fallen friendships, an ode to his sons, a declaration of his love for travel, or an olive branch to the past loves of his life, Tree touched on so many personal moments on his work in 2019 that it’s hard not to think that it’s all part of his final victory lap. It feels that way because Tree comes across as an old Blues man at heart, his greatest works of art often his most painful ones. While he may travel outside of music to get away from it all, put a mic, beat and writing pad in front of him, and he puts himself out there, warts and all. Give this one a spin in the New Year if you missed out:

https://soundcloud.com/mctreeg/sets/wegrownnow

2. Retropolitan - Skyzoo & Pete Rock

The definition of a dope New York album with no skips. Skyzoo shows that one can revel in nostalgia and positivity at the same time, that reflecting on how your home has changed can be a loving experience, even when it's clear that you would love to turn back the clock to an older, impactful time of your life.

Retropolitan is the sound of a music Mecca that thrives today because of its' past, and even when you don't hear that sound of the city within the city walls as often as you used to, it’s that sound that still propels it forward every day. By all means, you can criticize the sounds coming from "these kids today", but know that new sounds still trace back to their source material (whether you can hear it or not, the influence exists), and there will always be enough room for different rap styles to to co-exist, just as Classical music and Rock 'n Roll continue to inspire the world around us without any genre/sub-genre diluting the pool...in fact, the pool only continues to expand because of it.

Like Roc Marciano, Skyzoo is on a short list of NYC-based MC’s that kept developing a traditional east coast underground sound in their music for years, long after it was en vogue. As one of the genre’s most naturally gifted writers and storytellers, I don’t know if any MC working today is as fit to write this album as Skyzoo, a relic that survived a purging of the old guard in NYC only to emerge as part of a resurgence of underground hip-hop, sounding as spry as ever (if not, even stronger). With Retropolitan, every bit of this ode to growing up in a culture capitol feels like a child’s observation from a Brooklyn apartment window rather than a forced exaltation of times gone by.

This pairing may be the most natural for Pete Rock since CL Smooth, and no doubt the music on this album would not exist if it wasn't for timeless records like "T.R.O.Y." that continue to breathe and sound as refreshing as the day it dropped. Right now I doubt many expect Retropolitan to have the same cultural impact (as the material clearly points out, both the world and the genre are so different nowadays), but the music that derived from these two NYC legends certainly packs a wallop of quality that belongs in rotation for years to come.

1. Bandana - Freddie Gibbs & Madlib

By now it's hard to imagine that folks were skeptical of the musical union between Freddie Gibbs and Madlib. But back in 2010/2011, prior to the release of "Thuggin" (the first single to be released from the fantastic project that would eventually become Pinata) the notion of Gangsta Gibbs finding a happy union with the man that was behind classic projects alongside underground icons the likes of MF DOOM and Jay Dilla, sounded more like a fish out of water tale. Today, it would be like hearing news of 21 Savage and DJ Premier dropping.

By the time Bandana finally dropped - the much anticipated follow-up to the Pinata collaboration that many consider a modern classic - the hype had long since buried the initial questions that fans had about what the chemistry would be like between the respected artists, who once climbed the rankings within two very separate lanes. What Pinata proved was that the hard rhymes from Gibbs, when paired with Madlib's chopped up jazzy soulscapes, yield a sound that feels as beautifully organic as many of the genre's purist classic records. The biggest difference between Bandana and its' predecessor is that their chemistry has only improved.

What 'MadGibbs' achieved here was a more intimate and diverse album than Pinata, and arguably a superior one. Bandana may lack the layers of dusty underground grit which came in abundance on Pinata, but Gibbs' flow and pen game are so sharp on this album that it gave Madlib a bit more room to experiment with some sounds that don't instantly point to Madlib as the orchestrator on first listen. Lurking behind the making of this project were Gibbs' very real legal troubles, and the threat of extended prison time that not only jeopardized the completion of this project, but Freddie Gibbs' own freedom. Throughout the amazing Bandana, Gibbs does not hesitate to remind fans of how his life could very well have gone in a different direction, and that's exactly what elevates an album of bars & beats to a gripping, album of the year experience. Even with Bandana still in heavy rotation for the foreseeable future, it's hard not to salivate over what the duo could accomplish next...

***AND THE REST OF THE BEST***...

11. Emergency Raps, Vol. 4 - Tuamie feat. Fly Anakin & the Mutant Academy

12. Let The Sun Talk - MAVI

13. Wap Konn Jòj! - Mach-Hommy

14. W.W.C.D. [What Would Chine Do]? - Griselda (Westside Gunn, Conway & Benny)

15. SPORTEE - Nolan The Ninja

16. El Capo - Jim Jones (and The Heatmakerz)

17. Hiding Places - Billy Woods & Kenny Segal

18. Oofie - Wiki

19. Feet of Clay - Earl Sweatshirt

20. Hell’s Roof - Eto & DJ Muggs

21. Brandon Banks - Maxo Kream

22. 4wurd - Jay Bel

23. Revenge of the Dreamers 3 - J. Cole & the Dreamville roster

24. Sli’merre - Young Nudy & Pi’erre Bourne

25. The Wild End - Tree & Parallel Thought

26. Holly Water - Fly Anakin & Big Kahuna OG

27. Kirk - DaBaby

28. Boss Sauce - Mooch & Futurewave

29. Port of Miami 2 - Rick Ross

30. So Much Fun - Young Thug

31. Own Pace - Medhane

32. Drip or Drown 2 - Gunna

33. You Can’t Sit With Us - Pivot Gang

34. GREY Area - Little Simz

35. Transportation - Your Old Droog

36. Tuez-Les Tous - Mach-Hommy & DJ Muggs

37. May The Lord Watch - Little Brother

38. Drum Machine Tape Cassette - Kev Brown & J Scienide

39. Lil Big Man - Maxo

40. Statue of Limitations - Smoke DZA & Benny The Butcher

Honorable Mention:

Bullies - Denmark Vessey, DrxQuinnx & Azarias

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skyfallensoldier · 4 years

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Mobile Navigation || Rules & Mun ↓

DISCLAIMER: I just want to note here at the beginning that while I am considering this RP blog to be historically based, i.e. remaining true to the time period and overall details of John Laurens' biographical information and whatnot, I do not consider myself a historically accurate blog, not entirely. Historical fiction is a well known genre of literature and many, MANY creative liberties are taken within that genre. Think of this blog like you would if you saw an Anastasia Romanov blog. She's dead, we know she didn't survive, and she's been dead a long-ass time; so has Laurens. People still have included her in many works of fiction, even after her body was identified and it was proven she did not survive her family's massacre. I saw a romance book a couple of months ago where she survived that was recently published. Historical fiction, while a controversial thing at times, is a legitimate form of literature.

You don't have to tell me if you think John isn't acting exactly like the real man himself would have, I know that. I'm not going to call John my 'perfect sunshine boy cinnamon roll' or dismiss the privilege he was raised on due to his father, I'm aware he was a real person who had his own personality, virtues and prejudices. I won't deny that while he was certainly a progressive thinking man for the time he grew up in he definitely still had racist thoughts and actions that were indicative of his upbringing. But I'm not on here to debate modern, real life politics, or get into arguments about whether he was a good abolitionist or not. At the end of the day, this is still a hobby for me, and I'm writing for fun.

Basically, don't take it too seriously. I'm a 21st century bisexual woman writing from the POV of an 18th century (likely gay) male soldier, the way I write him is obviously not going to be a perfect representation of who he was. I know he wasn't an amazing, perfect person, but I've still chosen to write a fictionalized version of him for my own entertainment. Please try to respect that; thank you.

Mun Stuff

Name: Luna Gender: Female (She/Her or They/Them) D.o.B: July 23rd, 1996 Age: 24 Nationality: Canadian Sexuality: Bisexual Timezone: Eastern Time (US & Canada) Activity: Daily BIOGRAPHY (SORT OF)

Hello, there! You can call me Luna! I've been interested in writing ever since I first got the internet when I was 14 and discovered FanFiction.Net and now I'm an aspiring author and Roleplay enthusiast. If you include acting/talking out DnD like games with friends then I've been 'roleplaying' since the fifth grade, but I like to think there's always room for improvement. If you ever want to chat I'd love to make a new friend or plot out a roleplay, so don't be afraid to shoot me an ask or send me a private message. Just because my muse can be a jackass doesn't mean I am! I’m a huge advocate for mental health, and if you ever need someone to talk to, please don’t ever hesitate to reach out! Some of my hobbies including literature and writing (of course), digging into mythology from various cultures, practicing solitary eclectic paganism/new age spirituality, drinking tea, and collecting crystals/minerals.

Please note that for the sake of disclosure, I am considered ‘Neurodivergent’, in that I suffer from ADHD, diagnosed at about age six, and have Anxiety and Depression which are directly tied to it. This doesn’t often effect my life on here, but I sometimes have an unpredictable sleep schedule (stay up all night, sleep in late into the morning, etc). I’m usually quick to reply to threads for the most part! I work every Tuesday and Thursday from 5pm to 7pm in addition to odd jobs here and there, during which time I won’t have access to the Internet. The rest of the week I’m on and off all day basically, so you can feel free to contact me any time.

RP Style

⭐️ Please use basic spelling/grammar/punctuation when you RP with me. I'm not a drill sergeant about these kinds of things, I know that typos happen, and if you have a vision problem or such we can absolutely find a way to work around that, I also have no problem roleplaying with people whose first language is not English, so that's totally fine and I’m happy to accomodate in whatever way I can, but it does make it a little difficult to play with you if I don't know what you're trying to say. For this reason I prefer if you not use any text shorthand (lol, idk, brb, jk, etc) unless our muses are messaging each other. Using it in the tags is fine.

⭐️ I roleplay Laurens in a past-tense 3rd Person Point of View (think story-telling format), and generally I don't use icons or text formatting unless I notice my partner does, then I will try to match their style (for example if you use icons and small-text, I will try to do the same, though because formatting isn't possible on mobile, any mobile replies might take longer to be posted than if I were on my laptop). If you have any issues with how I'm writing or need me to adjust my style for any reason don't be afraid to ask.

Contact

⭐️ If you spam me with messages over and over again about something I haven't replied to, chances are I'll drop the thread. I don't mind being reminded because I know Tumblr's notifications are notoriously unreliable sometimes, and humans can forget/lose things, but if you keep poking at me after I've acknowledged you the first and second time, I won't be pleased. Things can get busy on here, or in real life, or sometimes you're just lacking muse for that particular thread, y'know? It doesn't mean I hate you and don't want to RP, I'm almost always up for plotting, but muse tends to fluctuate.

⭐️ My ‘Discord’ is available to mutuals upon request. I don't mind roleplaying on there if Tumblr is being glitchy or you're just not feeling up to formatted/heavily plotted threads, sometimes Discord is fun in that you can do immediate replies without needing the effort of putting icons and formatting into it. I also have a Kik but I never use it. I don't RP in Tumblr's IMs, that's purely for OOC interaction.

⭐️ I also occasionally stream movies/TV shows in group chats or play “in character” Cards Against Humanity game nights, Among Us, etc. If you’re interested, lemme know, I’m always looking for more people to hang out with!

Important

I have no actual triggers that I'm aware of, although snakes do creep me out (mostly shots of them coiled up or images of their pupils), but there are some things I will not roleplay personally for comfort reasons:

⭐️ Cannibalism. You can mention it, for example I won't freak out if someone tells my muse that somebody else ate a person (he might, assuming its not a Supernatural type verse), but I won't RP him engaging in cannibalism, not even in AUs (blood-drinking vampires are fine). I'm just not sure I could stomach writing about eating people. I managed to watch Hannibal, barely, but writing about it? Nah. I can handle lots of horror, gore and disturbing content but not this. Sorry.

⭐ Incest/Pedophilia. I do not SEXUALLY ship with characters under the age of 18. John is not attracted to children, and would never consider sleeping with someone much younger than him.

⭐ I will not write anything sexual with muns who are under 18 years old, even if your muse is an adult. I'll still ROLEPLAY with you if you are under 18 but probably no younger than 16 just because things tend to get explicit on my blogs and I don't want to be accused of corrupting the youth with my foul language and weird opinions, lol. Seriously though, this blog covers a lot of dark subjects and while I’m all for minors exploring that safely through writing rather than in real life, some people aren’t comfortable with interacting with under age people for legal or personal reasons, please respect that.

⭐ Necrophilia. Just... no. Vampire threads don't count, as they're undead and not 'dead dead'.

⭐ Rape. I won't write it with you. I'm okay with mentions of rape, with rape/sexual assault survivor/recovery plots, and even with one character intervening to rescue another from an attempted sexual assault (if an attempted assault does occur, it will be thoroughly tagged and under a cut). I'm fully open to discussing rape recovery/trauma plots as those are things that happen in real life, and it can be interesting to explore how a character reacts to trauma. But anything else is a no-go, sorry!

⭐ Please be aware that I write Laurens as a gay man. However! Because of the time period, violent homophobia and social stigma, he has slept with women before and may be seen flirting with or referencing relationships with women in the past. He is still gay, and still uninterested in being with women long term, he's simply closeted to all but a few individuals. So, unless your muse is Martha Manning (who Laurens DOES love in a manner, and he always will), shipping with female characters on here most likely isn't going to happen unless it's heavily plotted/developed and part of an overall plot, and you understand that it will not be a conventional sexual relationship. I'm sorry if that disappoints you but I've read Laurens as a gay male for so long I have trouble seeing him any other way.

⭐ I will not roleplay slavery plots. This is not up for debate. Roleplaying a highly fictionalized version of a long dead real person who existed during a troubling time is one thing, but I draw the line at that. For this reason, while I'll happily play with non-white muses, muses using non white faceclaims, and crossovers with characters of all sorts, I'll have to decline playing with any muse claiming to actually be writing slavery. There’s a difference between, say, roleplaying a character like Daenerys, a fictional character who was technically a slave-bride sold by her brother, and writing actual slavery from a very real, horrible time period. Slave ownership will of course be mentioned on this blog, that's unavoidable, but just like the mention of rape may happen on this blog from time to time, it will be in reference to a past event or speaking about the subject in general, not roleplaying a scene of it. Please respect this rule, I was hesitant to make this blog at first, because I know it makes some people uncomfortable, but I won't glorify such a horrible real thing that happened to so many people.

Exclusives/Mains

Just a head's up, unless I develop a bunch of chemistry with a particular portrayal of a muse I'm not likely to agree to being exclusives with anyone, unless perhaps it's a very niche or divergent character that has formed a good relationship of some sort with John and I'd have trouble interacting with other versions of that muse. For major characters I just feel it would be unfair to say no to someone who I click with in every other way, solely because I have already befriended someone else writing that character.

I will, however, discuss becoming mains with someone whom I've either developed or plotted out detailed storylines/interactions with regarding our specific portrayals of our characters. This means that I tend to reply to them quickly when I'm online, or may make little gifts (moodboards, aesthetic things, mini ficlets, whatever) for them unprompted, have a verse dedicated just to them, etc. Even if it seems like we haven't done much on Tumblr, there may be a lot of off-site development on Discord or whatnot that led to us plotting out intricate stories for our muses.

Current Mains:

Alexander Hamilton - @quillborn

⭐️ Send private messages.

⭐️ Send my character asks/starters/memes.

⭐️ Tag me in things.

⭐️ Ask to plot or ship.

⭐️ Ask for angst, fluff, etc.

⭐️ Submit things to me & my muse.

⭐️ Do crack and other ridiculous things with me!

⭐️ Like my RP threads.

⭐️ Like my personal posts.

⭐️ Comment on my personal/OOC posts (if you want to).

⭐️ Comment on my crack threads.

⭐️ Instant Message (IM) me if you'd like to talk, whether we're friends already or not!

DON'T

⭐️ Send hateful messages to me about other people and especially my mutuals; doesn't count if it's about the muse and not the person playing them, however. Also, if I’ve got beef with someone for whatever reason, don’t harass them/send hate to them on my behalf, please. I don’t condone anonymous abuse, attacking others, or harassment. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself, I promise.

⭐️ Introduce yourself with ‘wanna ship?’ For one, I prefer if we’ve at least started a roleplay together, or have spoken OOC. Auto shipping doesn’t always work out and I hate promising people something only to realize there’s zero chemistry, because then I feel like I’m letting them down.

⭐️ Come into my inbox with just ‘wanna rp?’ and that’s it. Please at least have some idea of what you want to roleplay, it’s not very fun when someone approaches you to RP but then doesn’t offer up any suggestions at all. Remember, you are always free to send me memes, whether we’re mutuals or not, and hit me up for whatever plot you think might interest me! I want to hear about it!

⭐️ Spam me with "reminder" messages if I've already acknowledged you the first few times.

⭐️ Reblog my RP threads if you're not a participant in them.

⭐️ Send me anonymous OOC hate. Hate for Laurens is fine, it's just another form of roleplay.

⭐️ Kill off my character or severely injure/maim my character without permission or having plotted something involving that with me first.

⭐️ Follow me if you're a porn blog. I don't mind blogs that post NSFW content, or smut a lot, etc. I mean blogs that aren't for RP and are literally just a normal looking blog until you click on it and the header and first twenty posts are hardcore nudity and porn. I hate those things.

⭐️ Shame my ships.

⭐️ Complain about my tagging. I put my smut under a 'read more' without exception and tag them as "NSFW //" with two dashes. Things that are not necessarily graphic but still have sexual undertones go under "Suggestive //". I use these tags to avoid attracting attention from porn blogs and porn bots that track certain key words, as such I do not tag my content with "Smut" or trigger words such as "dick, oral, anal, nudity, etc", please block my NSFW and Suggestive tags if you're uncomfortable. Triggery subjects (mentions of rape, animal abuse, torture, mental illness) will be tagged under the name of said trigger with a space and two dashes, example: "Self Harm //", “Suicidal Ideation //” or "PTSD //".

⭐️ Godmod my character. If you’re not sure what is/isn’t okay, come talk to me! I don’t bite! If you’re looking for an example of god mod behavior, here: “X lunged at Laurens, taking him by surprise, and hit him square in the nose, causing blood to spurt.” It might not seem like a big deal but it means that you decided how your character’s actions affected my muse, and not only that, didn’t give him a chance to dodge or anything. Not cool.

⭐️ Ship with me without permission (sending in shippy asks is A-Ok if you're interested in exploring a ship between our muses, I'm talking about things like claiming that our muses are in a relationship without discussing it with me, referencing dates or sexual acts that never happened, etc. I ship mainly with chemistry otherwise things get boring fast.

⭐️ Assume/act like our characters know each other/are closely connected (friends/family/lovers) if we've never discussed it unless it is established in canon/history. This especially goes for original characters. I'm open to Laurens forming deep relationships with OCs obviously, but those have to be developed in character, not just assumed from the first interaction.

⭐️ Attempt to roleplay with me if you are not a roleplay blog/or if you're just trying to RP as "yourself." I don't do Character X Reader imagines stuff. I don't RP with 'fan' accounts, only RP blogs. You can still send asks so long as you're not trying to initiate an RP scenario. For example, asking Laurens what his hobbies are, asking for a blessing etc? That's fine. Spamming me with different actions "you" are talking to Laurens is weird. Stop that. I will also not RP with blogs that claim to roleplay as real life people, such as Markiplier, that's super creepy. This does NOT apply to "historical fiction" roleplay (obviously since that's what this blog is), which is considered its own genre of literature. I'm talking about the above where people will 'roleplay' as real life, currently alive people like YouTube celebrities and ship them with their friends, even if they've made it clear that they're uncomfortable with it.

⭐️ Get angry at me for doing something you don't like if you don't even have a rules page for me to go by. It's not fair; you can't expect your partners to just read your mind and magically know how you feel. If something bothers you let me know, I’ll make a note about it so I avoid it during our interactions!

⭐️ Use me as a meme resource blog without ever interacting with me. I don't require "reblog karma" for you to follow me, partners are more than welcome to reblog from me, but if we never interact and I just occasionally see you reblog fifteen posts from my meme tag and then disappear again I'm not gonna be happy. Go to the source or to an archived blog no longer getting notifications, please!

⭐️ Reblog my Meta/Headcanons. If they're from a different blog it's fine but the ones I've personally written are for MY portrayal of Laurens. I work hard on most of my stuff and I'd prefer if you didn't reblog it, not because you aren't allowed to have the same headcanon ideas as me, but because then it ends up getting liked or reblogged by lots of other people, spamming my notifications, etc.

OCs & Multimuses

I love OCs and multi-muse blogs (I have my own multimuse sideblog over at @historyremembers, which has other 18th century characters including the Hamilton children and some OCs), so feel free to interact! That being said, please have an about page of some sort on your blog. I can't follow back blogs that have absolutely no information available regarding their character(s). I don't RP with OC children of Laurens. This is nothing personal, but I'm fairly certain he was gay in real life and prefer to play him that way, and he only had one child - who he never even got to meet - in real life, so it just wouldn't make sense to me for him to have other kids running around unless he'd adopted some. If you're a multimuse, I may not follow you back if I'm only familiar with two of your muses if you have a blog of fifteen characters, simply because I'd prefer to keep my dash clean and only have characters/fandoms I'm familiar with on it. I'll still RP with you if you have a character I'm interested in! I just might not follow back if the majority of your characters I do not know, I apologize for this.

If you’ve made it to the end of this, congrats! I know it couldn’t be easy (my ADHD brain was frustrated trying to just write all this up) but it’s necessary so there’s not misunderstandings on what I am/am not willing to RP. I won’t ask for a password since I trust most people to have the courtesy to at least skim the rules of those they want to RP with.

Have a nice day!

#Everybody Listen Up! {PSA}#Out Of The Field {OOC}#Long Post //

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alwaysspeakshermind · 5 years

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Top 5 Anti-Varchie Arguments & Why They Make No Sense

#4: “Varchie’s boring/predictable, love at first sight is so cliché(d).”

Love at first sight is so clichéd? Okay, sure, I’ll allow that.

I’ll even agree.

But think contextually for a sec: love-at-first-sight is so clichéd as opposed to what? The utterly original, never-been-done-before uniqueness of best-friends-to-lovers that Barchie and also Bughead, why do people who say they want to see a friends-to-lovers relationship keep forgetting Bughead’s in that category? represents? The novel concept of enemies-to-lovers that is Cheryl/Toni (and Veggie if you squint)? The dated-in-the-past-but-sparks-still-fly (Falice, Tom Keller/Sierra McCoy, Fred/Hermione) or misunderstood-outsider-falls-in-love-with-“perfect”-America’s Sweetheart (Bughead, and also Kevin/Joaquin, Kevin/Fangs)?

Come on.

Whether it’s your cup of tea or not, a trope is a trope is a trope. There are only so many combinations possible when it comes to romantic dynamics, and since fiction and reality have both existed for a really long time, there’s no one trope that hasn’t already been done a million times over. So…what’s the point of harping on this particular one? Or any other trope just because it’s not your personal favorite?

Yes, Love At First Sight is the bread-and-butter of many fairytales and/or Disney movies. But it’s by no means alone in that regard.

Best friends/childhood friends-to-lovers has been a longtime staple of books, TV shows, rom-coms, and musicals (Harry Potter, Kim Possible, 13 Going On 30, Phantom of the Opera, and Lion King all say hello), and so has enemies-to-lovers (27 Dresses, The Proposal, You’ve Got Mail, Tangled, etc.). I’m not even going to bother touching on the sparks-still-fly/loner-loves-”good” kid thing, because the first is the golden goose for Hallmark, Lifetime, an a billion-and-one romance novels, while the second is YA fiction in a nutshell. And if you’re one of those “I can’t help it, friends-to-lovers is my crack” kind of people, it might be worth noting that “Love At First Sight” is plenty of other people’s crack. Also, if your complaint against a trope you find overused is a valid argument, so is someone else’s. Childhood-best-friends-to-lovers may feel newer and unique to you, but it doesn’t to everyone. Some people are as tired of it as you are of Love At First Sight.

And even if your claim is that “love at first sight’s not realistic/there’s like zero basis for it in the real world/it’s the exception not the rule,” that claim also extends to Childhood Best-Friends-To-Lovers and Enemies-To-Lovers.

In the real world, the Best-Friends-To-Lovers thing is about as common as Love At First Sight, with the latter maybe being a bit more common, since the overwhelming majority of people tend to notice attraction within the first fifteen minutes of meeting someone and the overwhelming majority of childhood best friends grow up thinking of each other as a sibling. (Important distinction: when childhood best friends do grow up, fall in love and get married, they don’t tend to take until high school/college to figure out how they feel. They’re typically aware of it from puberty/slightly before puberty onward, and it doesn’t change because they already know everything there is to know about that person...they know if they’re attracted to them; they know if they’re not.) And both those tropes are more common in everyday life than enemies-to-lovers since, in truth, most people don’t want to have anything to do with the antagonistic person who made their life miserable.

So realism/unrealism? Kind of a shifting-sands argument. Especially within the context of a show that puts an ex-“gang” member in as sheriff and deputizes other “gang” members, one of whom is named Sweet Pea, of all things. I mean, if you truly feel morally obligated to reality-police Riverdale, there are far more pressing issues than the likelihood of two teens meeting each other one time and deciding within five minutes that “This is The One” (which is not even how it happens except for Archie, but still).

What it really comes down to is not the trope itself, but how well the trope is executed.

In other words, it’s not what you’re given...it’s what you do with what you’re given. Every trope has been done many times before. Like it or not, that is an undeniable fact. Arguing that something has little-to-no value purely on the basis of its commonality is in essence weighting originality (theory) over style (practical application). To illustrate why this kind of thinking is a critical mistake, let’s put it this way: weighting originality over style is like saying Riverdale Season 3 is better than Riverdale Season 1.

...Which, as even the most casual of Riverdale viewers knows, is not the case.

Is S3 more ambitious than S1? Yes. Does S3 contain more jaw-dropping plot twists than S1? Absolutely. Are there some damn fun episodes in S3? For sure. But guess what? S3 also contains far more plot holes, inane plot “twists” and contradictory developments/sheer why-are-you-trying-to-make-fetch-happen-with-this-storyline moments because S3 goes so hard for shock value/the unexpected, that it effectively lapses on execution and winds up with a more creative, but ultimately less-compelling finished product than S1. Moral to the story? Creativity is good, but devotion to creativity at the exclusion of all else is not. If a few predictable elements aren’t mixed into an unpredictable world (or vice versa), everything ceases to shock. On Riverdale, because things are always so wild, the biggest surprises are usually when things unfold normally/don’t go haywire.

Now.

Me personally, I’ve shipped every trope at least once. I’m in the habit of making myself set aside all preconceived notions when beginning a new show/book/movie, because I never know what, if any, ship I’ll go for. Historically, I’m about 50-50 on Childhood-best-friends-to-lovers—sometimes I love it, sometimes I hate it. Enemies-to-lovers—usually, I dig it, sometimes it’s a big, fat no from me, dawg. Love At First Sight however, I am overwhelmingly prejudiced against. And when I say overwhelmingly prejudiced, I mean that as a rule, I flat-out hate it. I find it stupid. It annoys me. I roll my eyes and make jokes.

But, here I am. Writing a bunch of long-ass Tumblr posts in defense of a fictional relationship that makes a direct play on the Love At First Sight trope.

So why are Archie and Veronica my huge exception?

Well, for one thing, their relationship kicks off in a manner that is highly evocative of the comics. The instant Archie sees Veronica, all of time (for him) stands still. The one solitary thing he’s aware of from the moment she steps into Pop’s and he looks up is her. No matter what he’s doing, he ends up looking at her, and after a very short amount of time, the same goes for Veronica (though of course, she tries to play it cool). Regardless of how I feel about the cheesiness of the trope, the execution of the scene is fricking cute.

For another: it actually is an unusual trope, and I was surprised to see it used.

Don’t get me wrong, the whole see-a-person-across-a-crowded-room deal is a cliché and it’s a million percent been done to death. But the funny thing is, Love At First Sight is such a clichéd cliché that it’s hardly ever used nowadays. By virtue of its extreme clichédness in fact, it has accidentally and ironically become fresh again because the second someone suggests it, someone else inevitably goes, “Nah, that’s too clichéd, we can’t do that.” In all honesty, I can’t remember one TV show or non-90s-Disney movie I watched in the last ten years where that trope was used over any/all of the other tropes available. I actually intended to make a list of the books/movies/shows I know of that have used the friends/enemies to lovers trope for comparison purposes, but it was getting so long with just the books section I ended up going, “Haha, no,” and scrapped that plan. (But for the record, almost every single Jane Austen novel is on that list.)

So, in summary: Love At First Sight clichéd? Yep. For sure.

Too clichéd?

Nope.

Certainly no more, and arguably less, than the other tropes Riverdale’s many ships adhere to. So if you’re not nonstop complaining about those other ships on the basis of the overdone/predictability factor, it shouldn’t be an issue that Varchie’s relationship is built around a recognizable trope that has been out-of-use by most everyone except Disney for a good while now. (Besides, some tropes are considered timeless for a reason.)

And seriously, if we’re going to go down the Disney path, let’s stop a second and recall how many Disney Channel shows/movies in the last decade utilized Best-Friends-To-Lovers and Enemies-To-Lovers. Or hey, what about Nickelodeon shows? Or maybe cop/CSI/civil service-type shows where best friend partners/partners who hate each other eventually fall in love?

Again, a relationship is not automatically made “boring” because it falls within the parameters of a well-known trope, and “predictable” does not automatically mean “bad.” If that were truly the case, no fictional relationship from probably the 18th century onward would have any popularity and/or critical acclaim. And if you try to argue that that’s just how it is for you personally: predictable/clichéd = boring, you should probably keep in mind that when measured by those standards, every single other ship on Riverdale is, by definition, boring.

Every.

Single.

One.

Not just Varchie.

So if you really are passionate about Riverdale not focusing on a “boring, predictable, clichéd ship instead of an interesting one,” you might want to take a break from griping about Archie and Veronica and start examining exactly how original those "interesting” ships you’re touting actually are. And if that’s not really what you mean, if you don’t really buy into the line you’re selling (i.e., you’re just using “they’re so boring” as an excuse to disguise the fact that you don’t like Varchie because they prevent your preferred ship from happening), you might also want to consider just being honest about that.

Because when you build your argument around a point that encompasses more relationships than just the one you’re criticizing, it makes you look like you’re either extremely clueless in not realizing that your complaint also applies to your ship/other ships, or else a giant hypocrite.

#varchie #archie x veronica #riverdale opinion #my opinion #my post #rant #I'm calmer now #so we're trying to remain relatively tactful here

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gotham-ruaidh · 5 years

Text

Truth to Triumph

Previously…

Chapter 3: The Interview

June 30, 1904

Riverside Hospital, North Brother Island. Photographed by Jacob Riis, 1902.

For the next ninety minutes he waited where she had requested, fearing as the minutes ticked by that she would stand him up. That he had been too forward. That this had all been a bad, stupid, misguided idea.

But eventually, she appeared – uniform crisp despite what must have been a long and tiring shift. Hair still neatly held back in a sober chignon.

Suddenly the sun came out, there between the sturdy brick buildings, with the chirps of birds and the yells of men playing baseball echoing through the courtyard

The almost blinding rays made him realize that unlike almost any other lady of her station in society, she didn’t wear a hat. At first she squinted at him in the harsh sunshine – but then just brought up a hand as a makeshift shield. Never once did she complain. She just got on with it.

Nervously he cleared his throat. “Thank you for coming, Dr. Beauchamp.”

“I hope you won’t waste my time, Mr. – ”

“It’s Fraser. James Fraser. But my parents called me Jamie.”

She smiled politely, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Immediately slipping into the undoubtedly familiar demeanor that she had been raised with – professional. Detached.

“Well it’s nice to officially meet you, Jamie. What is it you want to know?”

For the next half hour they talked. He took notes in the canvas-bound notebook that was always in his breast pocket. Learning about the hospital, its mission, its patients. Safe, non-controversial topics. Steering away from anything personal.

He watched her hands – no rings, no bracelets, not even a watch. Laid flat on her lap, or twisting her fingers together as she spoke. Graceful fingers, marked with cuts and scabs and bruises and short, broken fingernails – hallmarks of her profession.

Her answers were eloquent, factual – never personal. Clearly proud of the work done at the sanitarium, and the patients they were able to help. But she never personalized it – never indicated that it was because of her that the hospital achieved its mission in one way or the other.

Speaking thus made her appear lonely; isolated; alone.

“And if I may ask – how is it to work here as a female doctor?”

She shifted a bit on the bench before answering. “You may ask. And I’d imagine that any doctor – male or female – faces challenges in working here. The patients can be unpredictable. Our reputation is that people get sent to us when they have no place else to go – or have exhausted all other options.”

She paused. “I do feel as though sometimes I need to work twice as hard to prove myself – to the patients, and their families. And to the other doctors. Of course I make mistakes – we all do – but I feel like mine are scrutinized much more than theirs.”

The early afternoon sun had disappeared behind the clouds again, so as she spoke, she looked directly at him. Confidently.

“And, to be honest, some of the nurses don’t know what to make of me. I’m not one of them – but they don’t regard me as they do the other doctors. Some of them don’t know what to do with me.”

“Does that mean they don’t listen to you?”

“More like, some of them listen to me more than the other doctors. And some of them will ask another doctor to validate my orders.”

“That must be difficult.”

“Everything about this job is difficult.”

“Then why do it?”

She took so long to answer the question that he thought perhaps she hadn’t heard him. Rude as it was to repeat himself, he was prepared to do so, but she beat him to it.

“Because, except for one other aspect of my life, this work is more important to me than anything. Proving to everyone that I can be successful – that’s worth the struggle. Changing minds, one at a time.”

“Some might say that’s heroic.”

She snorted. “I’m certainly not a hero.”

“You’re brave enough to be called one.”

“Am I?” Her graceful brows raised skeptically. “You’d be surprised. I’ve simply done what I was supposed to do. What I vowed to do, when I took the oath.”

He thought long and hard about what to say next.

“I was just…so struck by you, on that terrible day. How you brought order to the chaos. And how everyone just listens to you, and does as you ask.”

She huffed. “You’d be surprised.”

“I know. But you – you are singular. You’re not like anyone else.”

He swallowed. It was now or never.

“I – I want to know you, Claire.”

She froze still. A few loose tendrils of hair gently swayed in the breeze.

He saw his opportunity – and spoke without thinking.

“May I come call on you?”

It took forever for her to answer. For she knew it would deeply affect them both.

“You may – but on my terms.”

“Of course.” Surely it couldn’t be this easy. “What are they?”

“Come to my family’s home. You’ll see.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #truth to triumph

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calleo-bricriu · 4 years

Note

Three questions: How were you getting paid if you were a "prisoner"? Where you really a prisoner or is that just the excuse you used to get out of punishment? Did he even TRY to kill you?

Oh no, no, not an excuse at all.

I was a prisoner and the only reason I walked right into it was, more or less, to spite @directoryandle and, going in with the assumption that I was going to eventually be let out again, also be able to come back and hopefully still have him working there so I could claim however many years I was stuck there because he’d sent me to deal with the ‘request’ instead of going himself that it was official Ministry business, work, and I absolutely expected to be paid for it.

Essentially, the Ministry ended up paying me five years’ salary to be a prisoner and largely did continue doing things that were part of my actual job anyway, just from an entirely different location surrounded by largely competent, if a bit mental, people.

Nice temporary break from being surrounded by largely incompetent, if a bit mental, people.

Nobody else was really allowed to take a serious swing at me, which is a shame, as it never hurts to get a decent amount of experience having a scrap with very different sorts of people. I still maintain that one General would have killed me outright if she’d been allowed; she didn’t like me from the start, though I never bothered to ask why and I doubt she’d have answered me anyway.

I don’t know that @absintheabsence ever necessarily was trying to kill me so much as he was trying to make me think that he was, but there were a couple of times that I almost believed it.

I’d like to note here that “almost believed it” doesn’t mean I was anything approaching frightened; I lost the ability to be afraid of death or dying before I was thirty. After enough close calls, it loses its bite.

And I really do need to point out that I am definitely the one that caused it every time. That isn’t blame of any sort, let alone victim blaming as I never have viewed myself as any sort of victim (a target maybe, but not a victim), it’s a statement of fact. See, he’s got–or had, I’m not exactly sure how short that fuse is now–one hell of a temper, but also never seemed to really care to put that on display which isn’t a bad thing at all; makes one seem unbalanced.

And I enjoy running my mouth specifically to see what and how much it takes to get someone who likes to come off as on a very even keel to wobble a bit.

That’s exactly what I did and after awhile I either got very good at figuring out just how much I could push before I’d have to ease off or he’d snap or he knew what I was doing and was refusing to play because of it.

There were several times the first few years I was kept there in which either I missed a non-bluffing signal to back off or, instead of storming off and leaving me alone for awhile the storm in question was directed at me as opposed to whatever poor idiot he ran into first after leaving the tower.

There are two instances that I remember clearly, however:

- In the first instance, while I know it wasn’t the terrible, terrible puns that caused it, they did end up in that 'last straw’ pile and that is so worth it. I could only hope to die over something as ridiculous as making a terrible pun to the wrong person and would want that on my headstone.

- In the second, and last, despite the fact that I would have been fifty-seven at the time, I was being a brat. There’s no other way to say it, and I was doing it on purpose just to see what would happen.

The first one happened the first few days I was there; the thing about the stone used to build Nurmengard, particularly down in the prison areas where it wasn’t so nicely decorated, is that the stone siphons magic from anything that’s kept in contact with it and that was then used to power a lot of the automation. Even where it was mitigated by decor, it was still able to function in that capacity to varying degrees. That’s how the automation kept running with nobody to maintain it.

Walking right into the trap landed me in one of those cells, which is a very good way to render a prisoner harmless; if everyone around them can use magic and they cannot, they’re easier to handle. I started off on the wrong foot with the guard who had to deal with me for the following reasons:

- The stone was interesting, and I lost track of time to the tune of not really sleeping for two solid days, while I was studying it as much as I could by just looking at it and poking at it.

- So when the guard came to haul me upstairs, I first wasn’t listening to what he was saying and his English wasn’t all that good, no to mention heavily accented, and I didn’t respond at first.

- When I did, and realised he’d said something to the effect of I was going to see “the Emperor” my immediate response was, “The what now?” which, and this will be come relevant, caused him to hit me with an incredibly mediocre Cruciatus cast.

- …and I just sort of…stared at him and asked him what he was doing, and that got me grabbed, thrown out of the cell, and walked at wand point (as though that was necessary, it’s not as though I could have left without being able to use magic anyway; effect, I guess) to the less prison cell filled areas of the building.

- Got mildly distracted by how over the top everything was decorated and failed to stop at the door the guard stopped at, got dragged back again.

- Very impolitely herded into the room, see who’s in there and, in a case in which my mouth did get ahead of my brain for a few seconds, went with, “Oh! It’s only you! This guard said we were going to see an emperor.”

The guard actually took a few steps away from me with that one but, nothing happened because we can’t lose our temper in front of the help, can we?

- …and I kept talking. Specifically, I started complaining about the mediocre Cruciatus and got–I’m still not entirely certain if it was sarcasm or if he was being seriously, but something about maybe I should start training them how to use it.

“Yes, and anyone who can’t manage it gets to be used as the practice dummy,” probably was not the kindest thing I’ve ever said but, in fairness, this is a curse I’ve done extensive research and fine tuning with and it’s always so disappointing to see it done poorly.

- Much to the guard’s relief, he was eventually allowed to leave and now there were no witnesses. And, as my brain had caught back up to my mouth, the first thing the duo decided was appropriate was, “Well, this is certainly a grave situation isn’t it?” because I wanted to see what he’d do.

He started by hitting me with the massive compliment of not only having read that paper but having not dismissed it out of hand, and having clearly read it to the point where he knew the cut off before I’d be damaged to the point of being vaguely useless for several months. I’m sure it was meant, on some level, to be horrible but when you’re used to other people (at best) explaining your own work back to you incorrectly it’s positively lovely to see it demonstrated without hesitation. I’m still pleased about that!

There was a great deal more after that, largely blood magic based if I recall, though not anything I was familiar with beyond having a general idea of what it was at the time; if I had to choose between that and the more familiar (if modified) well cast Cruciatus, I’d take the latter as it’s far less unsettling than a great deal of what can be done with blood magic.

That all said, I was never really convinced that he was planning to or intending to kill me; if he’d wanted to, he would have. Still, where physical death is concerned, I did get to hover right on the line of it for some time.

Great fun, actually, if you’ve never done that before. One hell of a rush too, and it lasts for weeks if it’s done right.

Which it was.

- The second time was in 1943 and he was definitely not pleased with me for that one. The one I just wrapped up, I still don’t think he was nearly as angry as he was trying to come off and I’m also fairly sure I saw him trying not to laugh at the awful pun.

I had my cards and my runes with me and, of course, they’d been confiscated by guards on intake years before, but he’d let me have them back to play with now and again. Wouldn’t usually stick around, just sort of drop them on the desk in the room I was in and leave. Half the time I’d just check to see everything was still there then set them aside, and occasionally I’d let the cards gossip with me but never mention what they said to anyone because it’s all a bit silly.

I can’t recall now why they’d been taken before this particular incident, but he’d come up to give the cards back and this time he stood in the doorway watching me until I figured out he was waiting for me to pick them up and do something with them.

Because I am the way I am, I went with what amounted to, “Oh, you want us to gossip about you, do you? All right.”

I kind of knew what to expect as that deck is nothing if not consistent and, to that point, any time they’d been gossiping about him specifically there were a lot of swords and the Tower, both of which had been consistent for over a decade at that point.

The thing is, despite the cards technically backing up what I was saying, a great deal of what I said was largely based in subtle things I’d seen or overheard that I likely wasn’t supposed to have seen or overheard in the first place and it started out warning of an ideology split within his own ranks that, if not dealt with swiftly and decisively, would lead to everything collapsing.

I don’t know if he knew that on some level and didn’t like hearing it or if he simply didn’t like hearing that those in his inner circle and high levels of command may have decided along the way that he was too unpredictable and erratic to be effective and had begun trying to organise a split–the main problem the cards saw was that those people thought he wasn’t being, I don’t know what the word I’m looking for is, but they thought he was too tolerant of things that weren’t “Pureblood” or human.

That’s saying a lot as, by that point, there had been several genocide campaigns directed at non-human beings and beasts that he’d greenlit.

At that point, the cards split as they often do when they gossip like that; down one path, he’d ignore it and continue on, trying to keep control of a crumbling empire and taking everything down with him in the process.

Down the other, it was a purge the ranks, get back on the original track, and–the cards predicted that would end rather well and be at least somewhat long lasting. There would be initial losses and a period of uncertainty while rebuilding, but it wouldn’t be such a massively destructive nightmare.

You remember that part where I said I like to run my mouth? If not, just a reminder: I like to run my mouth, and I definitely ignored the fact that, in the doorway, as I kept tossing cards up into the air in front of him, it was looking more and more like I was about to have an attempt to make me regret my entire life up to that point happen.

I made some comment about how we both knew he wasn’t going to take that second path as that would be admitting he’d made mistakes, and let the cards talk down the more destructive path.

That’s about when the Tower appeared because of course it did.

And I kept pulling cards because, the thing about the Tower card that most people overlook when they see it, is that, even among the destruction and ruins, it’s already being rebuilt; whether it’s rebuilt into the same thing or into something better depends on a lot of things, but the fact is that something gets rebuilt in the aftermath.

Figured, at this point, why not?

I thought that’s where it got interesting but it seemed to just make him even more livid than he already was and by that point I’m not even certain he was still listening so much as he was mapping out exactly what was going to happen as soon as I quit talking.

Unfortunately for me, I quit talking immediately after saying, “Looks as though you’re going to cheerfully self-destruct, while taking as many people with you as you can manage on the way down, as this deck has consistently indicated only after this Tower hits, you’ll slowly rebuild–with the assistance of someone else, it appears–into a reasonably decent person.”

Or, to condense it down, “You’re a landfill on fire but, hey, ashes eventually turn into decent ground again, so that’s something!”

Still don’t remember large pieces of what that exactly was but the thing is–if you’re not killed by something as abrupt as a killing curse, physical death happens before complete death in which you’re severed from your physical body one way or another and I do recall brief spots of physical death and–

–now that I think about it, there’s a great deal of overlap and interweaving between–

At any rate, I’m fairly certain not everything that was done during that one ever fully cleared up but I’m so used to the side effects of it now I’d be alarmed if they stopped.

For the most part, though, I suspect he figured out what I was doing just in general and would either ignore it or would do that thing where you know someone is telling you you’re not worth their time or effort and sort of–do things in a very mediocre fashion.

Since I didn’t like that one bit, I eventually stopped jabbing him with a proverbial stick because it’s not any fun at all at that point.

#1986 #v: ftbawtft #it's very interesting when both people in a room take the #i'm not locked in here with you you're locked in here with me #standpoint #hp rp

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kjack89 · 5 years

Text

Un Virée en Voiture

For @deboracabral, as a thank you for buying me a coffee on Ko-Fi and also for being all around amazing! The request was for ExR fluff, developing relationship with any details beyond that up to me, so, naturally, I landed on a canon-era roadtrip.

Because whyever not.

As a point of note, I know very little about transportation in 1830s France and everything I did learn I learned today, so any anachronisms are unintentional, and I beg your indulgence.

“Are you certain I cannot convince you to stay another day?” Enjolras’s mother asked as she stood next to him, watching the coachman strap down Enjolras’s valise.

“Absolutely certain,” Enjolras told her, his voice slightly strained as it was wont to be after a few days in the country with his family. “I have work I must attend to, and I fear much will have fallen by the wayside in my absence.”

His mother tsk-ed and looked at him critically. “I do not believe things will fall apart so easily by you taking a few days to visit with your family, but I know I will have less luck convincing you of that.”

Enjolras almost managed a smile. “Less luck indeed,” he assured her before leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Goodbye, maman.”

She patted his cheek as he pulled away. “I suspect we will see you come spring or summer?” she said, the slight lift in her voice turning the statement into a question. “Your father and I will likely be in Paris for at least some of the season.”

“I suspect if you wish to find me, you shall,” Enjolras returned, slightly waspish at having to bite his tongue once more but wishing not to again get in an argument over how the elite classes chose to spend their time, though he could not help but add, “At the barricades, at least, should the city again turn to revolution.”

Mme. Enjolras pursed her lips. “I wish you would not joke of such things.”

“And I promise you, I do not joke.” Enjolras sighed and glanced at the coachman, who was standing at the ready. “Now I really must go.”

“Will you not wait for your friend’s arrival?”

Enjolras paused. “My friend?” he asked blankly. “What friend?”

“Your delightful associate Mr. de Courfeyrac sent a letter,” his mother said, somewhat smugly, and Enjolras had the feeling she had been waiting until the last moment possible to spring this on him, “saying that a mutual friend of yours was also visiting relations nearby and asked if we would be so generous as to let him ride back with you.” She sniffed somewhat haughtily. “Of course, I was more than accommodating, though I do not know why. It is a mere twelve francs to Paris by dilligence, and I fear what sort your friend might be if he is unable to afford even such travel.”

Enjolras gritted his teeth. “I am certain he could afford it and then some, but it seems little trouble when I’m already taking our carriage back to Paris. Especially since you insisted I do so rather than take the stagecoach myself.”

Mme. Enjolras’s hand pressed dramatically against her chest. “As though I would be so careless with the safety of my only boy,” she said, scandalized. “When there are brigands and who knows what else who might descend upon a public coach.”

“I would imagine they’d have more luck descending upon your carriage,” Enjolras sighed. “But that is hardly the point.”

“Indeed it is not, especially as I see your friend at the gate now,” his mother said sweetly, and Enjolras turned, startled, even more startled than that to see a familiar figure with dark, unruly curls making his way up the drive. “I do not believe this is one of your acquaintances whom I have met.”

Indeed it was not, if only because Enjolras had previously been unable to decide which was the worse idea: inflicting Grantaire, with his usual perfume of stale wine and ill humors, on his unsuspecting mother, or, perhaps even more terrible an idea, inflicting his mother, who was watching Grantaire’s approach looking far too much like a cat that had gotten into the cream, on Grantaire.

In either case, it was a disaster waiting to happen, and Enjolras made a mental note that upon their arrival in Paris, his first stop should be to Courfeyrac’s apartment where he would gladly murder his friend for putting him in this situation.

Grantaire smiled when he drew near, looking perfectly at ease as he made his way toward them with something of his usual swagger, though perhaps lacking his usual drunken sway. “Enjolras, my friend, you look hale and hearty this fine day,” Grantaire said jovially, not awaiting Enjolras’s reply before turning to his mother. “And you look far too young to be his mother, madame,” he said, making an elegant leg that would have looked ridiculous had anyone else attempted it but somehow just seemed charming as he bent to press a kiss to Mme. Enjolras’s hand. “Enchanté.”

Enjolras’s mother giggled, and Enjolras made a second mental note adding Grantaire to his list of homicides.

“Delighted to meet you as well, Mr…?”

She trailed off and Grantaire offered her a toothy grin. “Grantaire,” he said smoothly. “With my thanks for your brief hospitality here and the allowance to join your son on our jaunt back to the city.”

“Oh, it was no trouble,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. “One must seek to save a sous here and there in these unpredictable times.”

Evidently, Enjolras’s mother had decided that Grantaire getting a ride with him was frugal rather than a sign of low class, and Enjolras ground his teeth together. “Maman, we really must go,” he said, his tone clipped as he turned to Grantaire. “Have you any luggage?”

Grantaire waved his hand in a gesture eerily reminiscent of Enjolras’s mother just moments ago. “Other than the small case I gave to your man, no. This was not a planned jaunt into the country but luckily my parents still keep something of a wardrobe for me.”

“As it should be,” Enjolras’s mother said with an approving nod. “There is no need to bring your clothes back and forth from Paris when we’ve plenty of room here.”

“Grateful as I am that you can afford to keep me outfitted in two places at once,” Enjolras said from between clenched teeth, “not everyone is so lucky.”

“All the more reason for you to be grateful for it,” his mother said sweetly.

Grantaire looked far too amused as he glanced between them, but evidently decided amusement was not worth it as he cleared his throat before telling Enjolras’s mother, “It really is quite generous of you, and if ever I am able to return the favor for your son, you have my word. But now we must be off as I’m sure Enjolras has something seditious in the city that requires his attention.”

Enjolras glowered but his mother laughed. “And what of you?”

“Madame, I assure you, I prefer the salacious over the seditious.”

Mme. Enjolras laughed again and Grantaire gave another shot bow before clambering into the carriage. Enjolras’s mother caught his arm before he could follow. “I like him,” she said. “You should bring him around more often.”

“I certainly would not plan on it,” Enjolras told his mother, kissing her cheek once more before following Grantaire into the carriage. He collapsed opposite of Grantaire and let out a sigh before glaring at him. “I do hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“I assure you, I am,” Grantaire said with a smirk.

Enjolras sighed once more, staring out the window as the carriage pulled away. “If I did not know better I would assume you had followed me to the country as some form of Divine punishment.”

Grantaire laughed. “Not even God would be that cruel,” he assured Enjolras, tilting his head back against the seat back and closing his eyes. “I had to visit my father. He’s not well.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Enjolras said, surprising even himself at his own sincerity.

Grantaire just shrugged, not opening his eyes. “I will not pretend that he and I are close,” he said. “But it is my duty to on occasion check in on my sister.”

“I did not know you had a sister.”

Grantaire cracked one eye open, half-smiling. “I imagine there is a great deal that you don’t know about me.”

There was little that Enjolras could say to that, so he busied himself with getting his papers in order while Grantaire seemed to fall asleep. At the very least, his breathing turned loud and heavy enough for him to be asleep, and Enjolras pursed his lips but in the end decided it would be better for his own productivity than if Grantaire were awake.

As he was scanning a pamphlet Combeferre had given him, Grantaire hand reached out and tugged at the tie holding the shade up, letting the flap fall down to cover the window. Enjolras scowled. “Really?” he asked, and Grantaire shifted, his eyes still closed.

“The sun was falling in my eyes,” he muttered, and Enjolras rolled his eyes.

“Keep them closed and I imagine it shall not be much of an issue,” he said waspishly, reaching out to the tie the shade back up again.

Not even five minutes further had passed before Grantaire again loosed the shade, darkening the carriage compartment instantly. Enjolras slapped his papers down and glared at Grantaire, who somehow managed to look pleased with himself even with his eyes still firmly closed. “Are you quite done?”

“Certainly, as the sun is no longer shining directly into my eyes.”

Enjolras scowled. “Whilst you may intend on sleeping this entire trip, I have work that must be done, work which requires being able to see.” He again tied the shade up and Grantaire blinked blearily at him. “If again you touch this, I swear to you I shall make the coachman return to my parents’ estate.”

Grantaire shrugged languidly and rubbed his eyes. “My good fellow, if you wish to go away from our destination rather than towards it, that is certainly your prerogative, but I fail to see what triumph there may be in delaying your own return as well as mine.”

Enjolras gritted his teeth. “Then I pray you remember that I am perfectly capable of making you return to Paris on foot.”

Grantaire just chuckled softly. “Touché.”

As Enjolras returned to his papers, Grantaire pulled out a sketchbook, and Enjolras paused just briefly enough to watch as Grantaire began the rough outline of what looked like the landscape outside. “I figured if you’re going to force me to leave the shade up, I may as well take advantage of the view,” Grantaire remarked, and Enjolras flushed, quickly looking back at his own papers.

“Of course,” he said politely, for lack of anything better to say.

Silence again fell between them, a slightly strained silence that Enjolras would be tempted to break were he traveling with anyone other than Grantaire. Instead, he brought out his pen and ink and set about trying to write a pamphlet ahead of their upcoming meeting, soothed somewhat by the scratch of Grantaire’s pen against the paper.

But where Grantaire’s pen seemed to be moving in a rhythmic fashion, Enjolras’s pen seemed to slip across the page with no regard for his effort to keep it in place, the rough pavement that jostled the carriage taking its toll. “Merde,” he swore as an inkstain all but blotted what few words he had managed to get down.

Grantaire glanced up at him. “Are you having difficulty?” he asked.

“Yes, because the road keeps—” As if to prove his point, the carriage hit what felt like a loose stone and Enjolras fell forward, almost landing in Grantaire’s lap.

Grantaire, at least, had the grace not to laugh as he helped Enjolras back into his seat. “Why am I seeing a pamphlet on the necessity of infrastructure improvements in the near future?” he mused, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

Enjolras glared at him. “Why are you not having this problem?” he snapped.

“To begin, natural talent,” Grantaire said blithely, watching as Enjolras hunched over his parchment as if it might somehow keep his pen in place. It didn’t. “But I am also well used to drawing wherever I am able to find a perch.” He cleared his throat as Enjolras’s ink bottle almost turned over. “As I imagine you are not.”

Enjolras swore again and Grantaire sighed, setting aside his sketchbook and holding out his hand. “Give it here.”

Enjolras looked up at him, startled. “What?”

“Your paper. Give it here.”

“Why?”

Grantaire sighed again. “Must I spell it out for you? I have little difficulty with the road conditions, so I will write while you dictate.”

Enjolras gaped at him. “You—what?”

“I will write, you will dictate,” Grantaire repeated, slower than before as if Enjolras hadn’t heard him properly.

“But — why?”

“For the good of humanity,” Grantaire said, maintaining a straight face, though only barely. When Enjolras just stared at him, he rolled his eyes. “Because it is better than listening to you curse under your breath the entire trip back to Paris. Now give it here.”

Though Enjolras hesitantly handed over his paper, he couldn’t help but ask, “Do you plan on leaving your usual editorial comments in the margins?”

Grantaire grinned. “Would you expect anything less?”

Truthfully, Enjolras did not realize what to expect, and he chose not to comment.

To his even greater surprise, dictating while Grantaire wrote worked better than expected. Enjolras watched Grantaire’s hand fly over the page, his voice settling into a rhythm to match. In fact, they might have maintained that rhythm the entire way back to Paris were it not for the carriage coming to a rather sudden stop, again sending Enjolras flying into Grantaire’s lap.

As he picked himself up, he called to the coachman, “Is there a problem?”

“My apologies, Monsieur,” the coachman said, his face appearing in the window. “The wheel’s gotten stuck, sir.”

Enjolras sighed but Grantaire looked intrigued more than inconvenienced, clambering out of the carriage as Enjolras reluctantly followed suit. “Ah, the perils of country living,” Grantaire said as he peered at the carriage wheel, which had sunk well into a patch of mud.

“You say that as if there is no mud in the city,” Enjolras said dryly.

“Certainly there is, but also more people around to help,” Grantaire said cheerfully, unbuttoning his jacket and waistcoat.

“There is no need for that, sir, I’m certain I’ll get it free,” the coachman said quickly, looking stricken as Grantaire tugged his cravat off.

Grantaire waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense, it will go easier with both of us, and besides, I always enjoy showing off.”

He gave Enjolras a roguish wink and Enjolras blushed, even as he rolled his eyes. But he did not look away for long, watching as Grantaire, stripped down to his shirtsleeves, got right into the mud with the coachman. He couldn’t help but stare as Grantaire’s muscles strained and moved under the thin material of his shirt, and he was quite glad there were no other witnesses to this, certain that he was gaping.

Soon enough, the carriage was free, and Grantaire stood up and gestured for Enjolras to return into the carriage first, climbing on after him. Against his better judgment, Enjolras watched Grantaire with new appreciation as the man tried in vain to brush the dirt and muck from his trousers and hands. “Well,” Grantaire said with a small laugh, “I suspect you rather don’t want me sullying your fine parchment with my muddy hands now.”

“I do not think that dirt gained through honest labor can sully much,” Enjolras told him lightly.

“Don’t go conflating me with Feuilly or one of the noble working class,” Grantaire warned him, using his cravat as a handkerchief to wipe his hands. “I did this as much for my own benefit as anything.”

“Never would I suggest otherwise,” Enjolras said, but he was smiling.

Grantaire rolled his eyes, but the silence that stretched between them this time was comfortable with an unspoken camaraderie.

So much so that Enjolras realized with a pang as they approached Paris that he was not looking forward to this carriage ride ending. Certainly he was looking forward to being back in the city, back doing the work that needed to be done, but something about watching the afternoon sun play lightly across Grantaire’s face, something about reading while Grantaire hummed off-key, something about the whole situation felt more like home than Enjolras’s own flat often did.

It was a stupid thought and Enjolras’s brow furrowed as he shook his head as if to clear it. “Did you tell the driver where to drop you once we get back to the city?” he asked, his tone turning businesslike.

Grantaire shook his head. “I can walk from yours easily enough. No need for a second stop.”

“I’m certain it would be no trouble—”

“No more trouble than a walk would do me,” Grantaire told him. “Especially since who knows what trouble I might find on my way, and the salacious type of trouble at that.”

He laughed at his own joke but Enjolras remained silent. He should let good enough be, let Grantaire make his way to his own apartment in his own time, but much as he did not wish the carriage ride to end, so too did he not want that.

So he threw caution to the wind. “Unless you wish to seek out trouble this eve, I thought perhaps you might sup with me when we get back.”

Grantaire stared at him. “What makes you think that supping with you would get me in any less trouble?” he asked.

Enjolras huffed a sigh. “It was just a thought,” he said, irritated, and Grantaire shook his head.

“But what of whatever you have waiting for you upon your return?”

Enjolras jerked a shrug. “It is nothing that will not wait a few hours and besides, as you are so fond of telling me, I must still eat as I cannot live on sedition alone.”

“Indeed not,” Grantaire said with a slow smile. “Well, if you do not mind that I will be sweaty and disheveled for supper—”

“Which is truly different from your normal appearance,” Enjolras interjected, deadpan, and Grantaire laughed.

“A fair point. And very well. If you’re content to be seen with one such as myself—”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras interrupted, somewhat gentler than he intended, and he hoped Grantaire would not read too far into that, “there is never a time where I would not be content to be seen with you.”

Again Grantaire seemed taken aback. “It seems the country air has softened you,” he said, seemingly for lack of something else to say. “Whoever would have thought it.”

“The country air, a carriage ride…” Enjolras shrugged. “It does wonders for the constitution.”

“So it would seem,” Grantaire murmured, looking at Enjolras closely. “I shall have to tell Joly.”

Enjolras laughed. “I imagine you shall, though he’ll claim it’s something to do with different magnetic fields outside of the city.”

“Then perhaps Combeferre should make a scientific study of it,” Grantaire suggested, his grin indicating he wasn’t serious.

Still, Enjolras shook his head. “No,” he mused, “I suspect there would be too many confounding variables for Combeferre’s liking.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, as I imagine just as important as country air is one’s companion when taking it in.”

Grantaire stared at him, a smile again creeping across his face. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Enjolras said determinedly.

“Well,” Grantaire said, his smile soft and wide as he looked at Enjolras, “you certainly won’t hear me argue with that.”

“There really is a first time for everything,” Enjolras remarked, and Grantaire just laughed.

#enjolras #grantaire #exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #deboracabral #fanfiction #Les Miserables #canon era #developing relationship #fluff #road trip #forced to share a carriage for four hours #quite standard as far as tropes go no?

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quentinsquill · 5 years

Text

Fic: “Four Letters and a Funeral” (The Magicians)

Four Letters and a Funeral

Author: Lexalicious70

Fandom: The Magicians

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1,943

Warnings: Canon character death

Spoilers for 3x05

Summary: Four letters from the mosaic universe and how they play a part in the lives of Quentin, Eliot, Arielle, and little Rupert.

Author’s Notes: This is for the @whitespiresarmory’s Armory Challenge, Week 3: “Letters.” All errors are my own. I don’t own The Magicians, this is just for the fun of it all. Comments and kudos are magic: enjoy!

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19758550

Four Letters and a Funeral

By Lexalicious70 (all_hale_eliot)

Quentin wrote a letter the evening he’d kissed Eliot.

Words always came to him simpler when he put them on paper. There was no eye contact to maintain, phrases and meanings could be chosen with more care, and his pen didn’t stutter or become afflicted with a severe case of what Eliot called the ‘uhms.’ With these circumstances came a kind of confidence that Quentin didn’t possess very often, and the letter flowed out onto the page as Eliot dozed on the blanket they’d laid out earlier in the evening. The words flickered in the firelight.

Dear Eliot,

I’ve never been very good at being sure of my actions. No matter the situation, I usually end up second guessing myself or obsessing over the outcome had I chosen the other option. You’re probably aware of this, and maybe you’ve even been on the receiving end of this habit I can’t seem to shake. But I want you to know that tonight, when I kissed you, I’ve never been surer of anything, even when Dean Fogg asked me if I wanted to study magic at Brakebills.

I keep thinking about the way you kissed me back . . . it was so different than the night we had with Margo. I don’t remember a lot of details, but your kisses then were hungry, like you’d been waiting your whole life to kiss me. I don’t know if it was the wine or the emotion bottles or if you really had been waiting to kiss me since the moment we met, but the time we spent together tonight makes me realize that it doesn’t have to be complicated; it seems like we both want the same thing, so why the fuck not? We’re here, and we care about each other, and that feels like it’s enough. I’m sorry that it’s taken me a year to figure this out, but I do love you, Eliot, and I hope it’s not too late for me to live my life here—to live it with you.

Yours, Always,

Quentin slipped the letter into Eliot’s pocket and stretched out next to him on the homespun blanket, under the cover of starlight, before giving himself over to sleep.

5 Days Later

A letter appeared tucked between the pages of The World in the Walls, which Quentin had been carrying in his Sharo bag when they’d traveled to this universe. Eliot was outside sorting mosaic tiles, and Quentin pushed back his long hair as he sat down in the little eating nook they’d made and opened the sheet of cream-colored parchment. Eliot’s handwriting was as elegant as everything else about him, the script leaning toward the right.

Dear Q,

There is no ‘maybe’ when it comes to being on the receiving end of your lack of self-confidence, but thank you for acknowledging that shortcoming. I have plenty of my own, however, so please don’t think that I hold this against you. We all have our demons, and sometimes they cause us to hurt the ones we care about.

I never expected you to kiss me that night, but my God, it was like you opened a door that I was sure had slammed shut that night with Margo (actually more like shut and then nailed closed,) and you gave me another chance at something I thought I had ruined forever because I was selfish. And I was hungry that night, Q, I’d been dreaming of the taste of your lips, your skin, your cock . . . and I gave into my desires even though I knew it was selfish. Maybe I knew, as drunk as I was, that what we did was bound to cause trouble between you and Alice. I don’t know if I can say I’m sorry for that, because once I tasted you, Q, all I’ve ever wanted was more.

I have plenty of reasons to refuse you: the strangeness of this world, the thought that you may just be lonely, my own issues with commitment and my fears that I may somehow end up hurting you. But all that aside, Q, I have one overwhelming reason for saying yes, and it’s this: I love you, Quentin Coldwater. From the moment you stumbled from the bushes, sweaty and floppy-haired, and asked me if you were hallucinating, you’ve held a piece of my heart.

That being said, all I can do now is offer you the rest.

Always Yours,

Eliot

Two Years Later

“Oh, goddamn it!”

Eliot turned from the weaving loom to regard Quentin, who was crumpling up what looked like his sixth piece of parchment in fifteen minutes, his cheeks flushed with emotion. Eliot locked the loom so the shirt he was making wouldn’t unravel and went over to his partner.

“What is it, Q?”

“I’m trying to write a letter to Arielle so we can—you know—tell her how we feel and everything? But I can’t get the words right. It either sounds too formal or like I’m offering something that’s inappropriate. I love her—I’ve told her that already, so why is it so hard to write this?”

“Well let’s see.” Eliot dragged a chair over and produced a new piece of parchment. “Maybe I can help. After all, I want her to stay too. She’s good for you, Q,” Eliot had said as they sat down to write the letter together. “and didn’t our P.A. teacher say that the triangle is the strongest shape in nature?”

“You and Margo always ditched P.A.”

“Did we? Hmmph . . . I must have heard her say it while we were portaling our way out the back. “Let’s see . . .”

The letter took over two hours to draft, and when it was finished, Eliot and Quentin left it in the empty wicker basket near the door, where Arielle always placed their fresh fruit. It read:

Our Dearest Arielle,

There are many things we’ve found to be special about this place, but you are the most unique by far. Your kindness, the way you always went out of your way to visit us, spoke volumes about your generous nature. Our fondness for you has, over the past few months, become something more, and we’d like to invite you to stay. We know from past experience that this kind of relationship is pretty common in Fillory, especially when it comes to a man having both a wife and a husband. While we consider ourselves married, we know that adding you to our family would only make it stronger and more complete.

It's true that we never expected someone to come into our lives that would affect us like you have. But life, like magic, is unpredictable. You may be a part of the puzzle when it comes to the beauty of all life, or maybe you appeared because you hold a different kind of beauty, one that Quentin certainly doesn’t want to live without. We both believe you’re good for us in many ways, Arielle, and because we’ve learned that families in Fillory are created and not always bound by blood, your staying with us and becoming a part of our family makes sense.

We hope you say yes.

Affectionately Yours,

Quentin and Eliot

Six years later

They found the letter hidden in a folded, embroidered piece of cloth among Arielle’s things a few weeks after her death, when Quentin finally responded to Eliot’s pleas to leave their bed, where he’d been since Arielle and her stillborn daughter, Grace, were buried in the woods behind their cottage. Neither magic or medicine could stop the hemorrhaging once little Grace had come into the world, blue and silent, leaving Quentin, Eliot, and their four-year-old son, Rupert, bereft.

“What do we do?” Quentin asked, fresh tears coursing down his cheeks as he held up the envelope with Rupert’s name on it. Sun poured through the cottage window and Eliot noticed a few glimmering strands of silver in his husband’s long, tawny hair. “He’s too little to read and maybe he won’t understand—he keeps asking me when his mom and the baby are coming back.” The last word hung itself on a sob and Eliot drew Quentin into his arms.

“Shhh, Q. It’s all right. Shhh, my love.” He soothed, kissing Quentin’s forehead and temples before producing a cool, wet cloth in one hand. He used it to wipe Quentin’s face. “Hey . . . listen. Rupert is going to be fine. He’s a tough little man. Why don’t we read it to him? Hmm? I bet he’d like it.”

“Y-Yeah,” Quentin sniffled. “It’s his, after all.”

***

They sat in the main room of the cottage, where the sun cast long fingers of light through the windows well into the late afternoon. Eliot made himself comfortable in the rocker while Quentin sat in his favorite chair with Rupert in his lap, the boy’s head on his shoulder. Quentin rubbed his back while Rupert sucked his thumb and listened to his Papa Eliot read.

My Dearest Little Rupert,

If your daddies found this letter, I hope they read it to you. You are my special little blossom, and I want you to know how much you are loved.

You live in a world of infinite magic, little one, but if fate decides that I can’t be with you, there are a few things I want you to remember:

Always listen to your daddies. They know what’s best for you and will always protect and love you

Be kind to nature. It will always return your kindness with bounty

Fall apples make for the best pies

Eliot passed the letter to Quentin, who cleared his throat and continued reading.

Flowers and fruit blossoms want to be noticed and admired—always stop and do so

Nature has its own magic

Learn to weave from your Papa Eliot—it’s a talent you will use all your life

You will always be in my heart, my little blossom, no matter where I travel. I am a part of you, which means you never have to feel lonely. I am no further away than the beating of your own heart. Take care of your daddies—they’re a part of you, too.

I Love You Forever,

Mommy

Quentin folded the letter with one hand and set it aside. Rupert raised his head from his father’s shoulder.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah Rupe?”

“Can you teach me to read and write, so I can write mommy a letter back?”

“Sure I can,” Quentin smiled and smoothed his son’s hair to one side. “But for now, I think it’s time I helped you wash up for supper.” He lifted Rupert up and carried him toward the little washroom they’d added a few years earlier, his free hand trailing along Eliot’s shoulder with affection. Eliot touched it in return and watched the light fade from the room as he recalled the words of the letter Quentin had written him so long ago.

We’re here, and we care about each other, and that feels like it’s enough.

Fin

#my fic #The Magicians #mosaic universe @whitespiresarmory #Queliot #Arielle

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boogiewrites · 5 years

Text

Choking On Sapphires 59

Title & Song: Under My Thumb

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 4100+

Summary: Genevieve and Alfie find their busy lives becoming too congested with the wants and opinions of others without as much time for themselves. After her father's thinly veiled threats come to both her and Alfie, they are forced to face how others are molding their relationship. Genevieve makes a suggestion to ease the problem.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Her dad being an ass. Derogatory, sexist language. Antisemitism.Canon-typical language.Insinuation of non-con sex. Ends with fluff.

**Chapter song is Under My Thumb by Rolling Stones.*

Click on my icon then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Another day waking up alone, which wasn't as sad as it had been before you'd gotten together with Alfie. You both had your lives separate from each other, your work of legal and illegal means that kept you busy. Without cohabitating, there was no crawling into bed together after having coming home for the evening or waking up together after passing out from a long day before only to wear yourselves out again the next morning. Once again, Shabbat became your great respite together. You tried to spend as much of Friday evenings into Sunday together as possible. It didn't always work out that way but neither of you wasted too much time crying over it. That's just how the unpredictable lives of two working people were sometimes. And despite you both giving the public face of being solid and strong in your faith and heritage, the darker sides of your lives intervened at times, despite the best of attempts made for it not to.

You've worn the soles of your heels down this week. As it always came in the last and first week of any month. Business picked up and became more hectic. You collected rent and tended to your tenants wants and needs. You delivered by hand your charitable donations and ran the meals for the children at the children's home. You still had your art classes to teach and girls families to meet that applied for scholarships. This all culminated in these two weeks it seemed, money always needs to be estimated by this time each month by your analysts. You were tired, your feet ached and you'd been resting them by the fire in your office as you finalized your ledger to send off to the accountants for Abeille's earnings for the month. There were no worries as far as money was concerned but they weren't to be the source of your frustrations as fate would have it.

Alfie was working, which was understandable. As he did when he couldn't meet you on Friday's he'd sent one of his boys over with sweets and flowers and a clumsy, rushed written note of apology for his absence. You'd take to giving the delivery boy, a sweet young man with pristine manners, a kiss to the cheek and telling him to give the same to Alfie. Upon the first delivery of this from you to him, there was uproarious laughter after Alfie demanded in front of other workers that the boy gives him what you sent him back with. This would soon be simply delivered as "The lady sends her usual regards." which seemed to fit everyone much better on their end.

On this late evening, Claire brings in the last of the mail with a heavy sigh, tossing a single thin envelope in front of you. She plopped down in front of your desk with a sour face.

"I shall soon go live with the Shelby gypsy's with how I seem to know what's going to happen all the time." she rolls her eyes. "From your father." she says in an annoyed tone, her hand pointing towards the sealed envelope.

"If I haven't joined them yet, neither should you." you huff out a laugh, swiping your letter opener through the paper. "Wait until my foresight causes me to lose my mind and then we shall go together, hmm?" you suggest. You unfold the paper and read it with am indifferent expression. Claire waits patiently as she always does.

"I have received word of your coupling with not only a known criminal but a Jew of great importance in his community. If it were not insulting enough that you choose to identify as such against my wishes and warnings, you now are openly associating with his sort. I have heard as well of you acting entirely inappropriately by showing affection publicly to him. I have overlooked your solitary lifestyle, I have overlooked your poor decision making to appear as one of their belief, as you were to remain alone and not have the chance of reproducing with such people, with that I was able to turn a cheek. I can no longer do so and insist you end this regretful affair with this Alfred Solomons of Camden immediately. If you do not heed this most generous and polite warning, I will take further action. I will not have my gene pool sullied in such a way to have your offspring as branches from the Greene family tree. We are a pure and Godly lot who will not be tainted by your choices. I will be sending word to this Solomons myself of your questionable past and telling him of the things you've done to reach such a point in your life and I can only pray to my God that despite being what he is, he will see you for what you really are."

You take a deep and slow breath and Claire remains calm. You move only your eyes up to her and ask for a moment alone. She nods and stands on the other side of your office door. As she clicks the door behind her, a series of loud crashes follow. She frowns and stands defeated and waits. She hears you curse and scream and throw things and she knows it's justified, she only wishes this ridiculous behavior of your fathers would end. She wonders if she had enough money to hire someone to kill him. Probably not but she could enjoy the fantasy in her head.

"Come back in, please. Mind the glass." you say in a calmer tone as she comes to see a tossed room before her. Vases smashed, books scattered and the iron poker from the fire in your hand as she sees the damage you'd inflicted to the armchair beside you. Stuffing settled slowly in the air around you as she gently shuts the door behind her. "Would you be so kind as to sit at my desk and take my response dear?" you say while trying to catch your breath.

"Certainly." she says sweetly, paper and instrument in hand.

"George..." you begin, tossing the iron rod in the direction of the fire with a loud metallic thunk. "No." you state with a firm nod.

Claire looks up at you, eyes blinking and waiting for further instruction. "That all?"

"That's all." you said pinching the bridge of your nose. "You can read the letter if you wish. Although it will do nothing but infuriate you." you roll your eyes and move to sit in the untouched armchair. "What a cunt. What a pompous, self-righteous bastard. Why must he live?" you lament towards the ceiling as Claire reads the letter. She promptly makes a noise of disgust and tosses it into the fire.

"I'll send your reply." she states. "I'm not even sure what he's referring to about that "who you really are" nonsense."

"Some trauma we've both suppressed that he will no doubt twist to make my fault?" you shrug and mutter.

"Entirely possible." she softly agrees. "Should I fetch the phone so you can tell Alfie?" she asks.

"No, no, don't bother him with this nonsense. It's beneath us both." you wave your hand dismissively. "Just get some girls in here to clean this up. The accounts are finished, send them to the offices and I'm going to go to fucking bed." -------- You take a few drops of your nighttime vial and sleep deep, no dreams to forewarn you of anything your father would do.

You wake to weight shifting your bed. You groan and look to the source to find Alfie looking down at you. "What the fuck is this bollocks?" he says holding a piece of paper.

"Good morning to you as well." you purse your lips. "So nice to see you Genevieve, how have you been love, I've missed you." you mumble sarcastically, moving to sit yourself up.

"Yeah, yeah mornin'." he gruffs out and puts the paper in your lap. "Who the fuck does he think he is?"

"Well let me read it first, Fie." you say softly, getting your glasses off the bedside table.

"It has come to my attention that you have been courting Genevieve Greene. I would insist that this desist at once. I would like to state I am sending you this for reasons beyond the selfish as I do not want her to become persuaded to join your whispered lifestyle or to become one of your people. But I believe her to be acting out in a rebellious state as she's always been a difficult girl. She has also always been a troubled girl, and known for her deception and lies towards men. I would assume that her nature hasn't changed, as those who seem to be weak to spells of hysteria and madness never seem to outgrow it past a certain age. As we know Genevieve is far past the age for such childish antics she likes to play. I'm sure she seems lovely but I would have you know she has tried to ruin numerous relationships of mine by falsely accusing men of such unspeakable things that my calling them such should let you know of their disgusting nature. She is a thief and a liar and those traits might be something viewed as good to someone like you, however, I feel I should warn you nonetheless of her lack of loyalty and her history of being, as much as I would hate to say it about my own, a strumpet. Certainly, a man who has such a position in his community would not want to be associated with such a creature as she. Any decent man I have tried to give her to has been met with violence and vicious rumors spread about them by her after he defiant refusal of them. She may seem tame but I assure you she is hardly above an animal when she finds herself bored and displeased. When she feels she has been wronged her behavior only worsens. I hope you heed my warning and if you do not, I will be in touch again."

You sigh and let your shoulders slump. "Much what I expected."

"I'll ask again... who the fuck does he think he is?"

"Christ himself it seems." you roll your eyes. "I received a letter from him last night threatening me as well. His words to me of you were clearly spat from the same tongue."

"What's he on about? Accusin' men?" his brow is low and you know it set that way not because of you, his tone was sharp and you tried not to take it personally.

"You're a smart man, Alfie what do you think it means?" you retort obviously.

"They... Jesus Christ Genevieve, what did he do to you?"

"I don't..." you sigh and look at him with tired eyes. "I don't want to reminisce about it," you say sharply. "I try to forget it all." you look away from him and rub your face. "It's nothing that hasn't happened to almost every other woman since time began." you roll your eyes and shrug, reaching to take his cold hand between yours. "I haven't seen you all week." you murmur in a softer voice. "The last thing I want is to wake up to you angry and to talk about what horrid things men have done to me over the years." you angrily pout. "Ignore him. He's ridiculous. Truly. I thought my mother's side was who I got my dramatics from clearly it must be the Greene's." you look away and your shoulders slump.

"Fuckin' 'ell." he groans, his other hand rubbing down his face as he takes off his hat. Seeing the sadness in your face. "I..." he closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I shouldn't have come in here like 'is, love." his voice and face soften. He rises and kisses your forehead. "Like a bloody bull, I barged in here. All red 'n angry." he scolds himself, taking off his clothes to a shirt and pants. "Hard to think with softness in mind when I'm angry and want answers, Genny. So used to dealin' with men. No room for subtlety or tenderness with the lot of 'em." he says in a self-deprecating way. "Let me in 'ere with you if you'll have me." he says, motioning to the bed.

You scoot and raise the covers, he settles back against your piles of pillows and pulls you against him. "I threw vases and destroyed an armchair with an iron poker after I read my letter." you admit with a deadpan delivery that is met with a loud laugh.

He leans and kisses the top of your head. "'At's my girl." he praises.

"He's insulted both of us and I know you won't take any threat, no matter how vague but antagonizing him won't do either of us any good." You snuggle up to his side and slip your fingers between the buttons of his shirt. "I'm not jeopardizing your hard work for something stupid my fool, estranged father might do. I'm not going to risk my hard earned life either. He's not worth it. No matter how much he infuriates us." you shake your head and look up at him.

"I'm not gonna let him insult you like 'at." he says with a deep and certain tone that makes a small smile appear on your face.

"Simply dismiss him as I've done. He's not a rival gang, he's not even a businessman. There's nothing to be won or lost here of reputation or finance." you shake your head.

He reaches up and pulls the covers over your shoulder. "No threats of violence then, yeah? Just gonna make sure he knows he can't talk about you like 'at, love. What an abhorrent and repugnant thing he is. Speakin' of you like that, estranged or not, his blood." he shakes his head and rests his hand on your cheek. "You shouldn't have had to deal with such abuse from the likes of him."

"I know." you look away from him and he moves your face back to his.

"I mean it. No one's ever gonna treat you in such a way as long as I'm around, eh? They'll pay with their hide if they dare to, love. Not even a bad word is gonna slip past anyone's lips when it comes to you. I'll be sure they know not to dare speak ill of ya."

"Shouldn't worry yourself over it too much. I'm a woman, people will talk. It's what they do. We have more important things to worry about it." you give him a sweet smile he's thankful to see after his regrettable approach to how he entered your home and the conversation.

"Still," he states with a nod of his head towards you. "No one's gonna treat my woman in such a way. You won't be the only one standing up for yourself now, right? Best you remember that, love. You don't gotta fight all your battles alone anymore." he leans in and presses his lips to yours for a moment.

"I'm afraid to inform you that I'm still disrespected daily. It's a losing battle." you say with a lazy smirk. "Although the sentiment is wonderful, darling."

"Who the fuck is givin' you grief? Not none of my men is it?" he frowns.

"No, you've scared them plenty, they're all polite." you chuckle. "Take any man on the street in London and have him interact with me for a moments time he'll say or do something insulting. Just their nature." you roll your eyes. "No offense to you, your mum did some fine work with raising you." you pat his stomach, softer from the winter weight and how you preferred him. "Except when you're angry." your tease. "I thought your etiquette with waking me up this morning was lacking." you grin.

"It was." he nods. "'Spose it's all gettin' to me as well. Not gettin' to see you, the end of the month headaches of retrieving owed money from unwilling hands, workin' up new contracts and negotiatin' as the old ones expire."

"I've felt it too this past week in particular. And not seeing you doesn't help." you give in and let yourself pout, your fingers playing in his beard as you watch him with tired eyes.

"It does not at all, pet." he says with a subtle smile down at you.

"I'd like to curl up with you for a week and tell everyone else to bugger off." you complain in a deep whining voice. "Tell London to shove it up its arse and take care of itself for once." you sigh as you lay your arm across him.

"Sorry I couldn't make it last night." he says, feeling guilty he's added to your distress. A man should be gentle with his love and you being as hard and powerful as him, it was easy to forget you deserved special treatment sometimes.

"It's fine. I'm just emotionally drained. Hard two weeks with work and then a severe lack of you... and then George... the horse's arse."

"You can have me 'til tonight." he offers.

You groan and bury your face in his shirt as he rubs your back. "I don't feel greedy for wanting more." you grumble.

"I know, love, I know." you feel the rise and fall of his chest as he sighs with the same sentiment.

You knew that not living together, but being together would create its own problems. But you hadn't realized to what extent you would be suffering for living so far from the city and thus so far from Alfie. There just wasn't a substitute for living together in terms of spending time together. You missed that love bubble. You missed seeing him off to work in the morning and undressing him at night, stroking his hair as he laid on you like a pup when he felt particularly down. You wanted him all to yourself. You wanted to do something besides complain about work with him. And with that, you were both reminded of the concern for oversharing or where the line was drawn with telling each other about what you were up to. The trust was there and with being together, but not married made sharing your underground career's with each other more difficult. In theory, what's his was yours and what was yours was his but it wasn't truly and every time you held back from sharing something with him it felt wrong. But it also didn't seem right to fully divulge everything to him either. Living together would help, being married would help, but how would you even find time for such a thing if you couldn't even simply spend time together as is.

You needed a break from all the worry and trade. A clear separation of work and play that let you both breathe, feel like two humans in love again. With the passing thought, you chew the inside of your cheek. There hadn't even been time to find the right setting to tell each other that either. It wasn't as if either of you had some grand romantic notion that had to accompany it. However, a night out without being hassled, having him taken away to interrupt the flow of sweet words that could've led to such a thing being said would certainly be helpful. You needed to be alone. To not be who you were for only a moment.

"Alfie?" you lilt out, fingers rubbing against his own.

"Yes, love?" he says as you both doze lazily.

"Do you think going on holiday might help?"

"I think I don't have the time. And I'd be left waitin' on you while you's workin' and that'd make me restless and I'd rather be at work."

"I mean together."

"Oh, like a proper one, eh?" his face shifts in thought.

"Yes. Out of London. Away from work for just a bit. Get out of the heavy air and haze." you move to look up at him.

"Sounds good in theory." you can sense the hesitation in his voice.

"You don't want to?"

"I would love to, but... work." he states with pursed lips.

"If you plan ahead can't you manage it? You have seconds for a reason, you know. You're the boss you should get to do what you want when you want."

"It would be lovely if that's what bein' a boss meant." he chuckles.

"I'm serious. You have Ollie and the other men don't you? Can they handle the shop for a few days? We won't tell anyone we're gone, we'll just plan for it. There are phones if anything really goes wrong. We don't have to hop off to the other side of the world or anything."

By the way he's looking at you, you can tell he's sensing this was more a command and less a request at this point. "And where is it you'd like to go?"

You consider it a moment. A place that would be reachable, far but not too far. Somewhere that would make you happy, where you could have fun, get lost and enjoy each other. "Paris."

"Paris, eh?" he nods, eyes glancing around the room.

"Yes. Paris. There's so much to do there. We can eat and drink and go see the art and shows. I have my apartment there, I only have to call in some help and we'd have our own private place to stay. A driver, a cook, a maid, we wouldn't have to worry about a thing."

"Except work back home." he gruffs out.

"C'mon, Alfie." you whine. "There are phones, there are men you've been grooming to help you for years." you retort. He sighs and looks down at you with a raised brow. "I want to have you all to myself." you whisper. "I want you and me... uninterrupted... alone... no work... no horrid people and their opinions... only us."

"I want that too, love. I really do." he nods and brings your hand up to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

"Then let's make a plan. Find a time in your diary that you could afford to leave blank. Take your girl on holiday and spoil her." you give him a mischievous smile.

"If it's shoppin' you want we can go to London and I'll just let you loose with my money, eh?" he jokes.

"It's YOU I want, Alfie." you say more seriously. "Our relationship has become so congested with others and their opinions, their wants and demands of us that we've not had time to properly be Fie and Genny like we used to. I miss it."

"My little Genny missin' her man, eh?" he sighs.

"She is. I miss mon Fie. I miss sleeping naked all day. Not having to keep covered because either could be seen or called upon at any moment. I miss going to sleep and waking up with you for days on end, losing ourselves in one another. I miss getting to simply enjoy our time together instead of having to be preoccupied with what we have to do as soon as we are forced apart again. And always prematurely." you pout.

"Don't think I don't miss the same things, sweetheart. I try to find the time, I really do."

"I know, and I accept that that's how our lives are but because our lives aren't going to just drop the time we want of each other in our laps, we have to set the time ourselves. Since we are so busy, we must schedule time to not be busy."

"'Spose you're right there, eh?" he says with an exaggerated expression before it shifts to his deep thinking one. "And my little bird wants Paris?" he says after a pause.

"She does." you smile softly at him.

"How's 'bout you have me right now and then we'll go plan for Paris, yeah?" he suggests, brushing his nose against yours.

"How about a nap, then I have you, then we eat then we plan for Paris?" you say with a laugh that he returns.

"That is where we are at in life now innit?" he chuckles.

"I know you didn't get enough sleep last night."

"I did not." he admits with a shake of his head.

"So let's sleep first. It'll only improve the quality of anything thereafter."

"You are always correct my brilliant little bird." he says with a kiss as he moves down the bed.

"I missed hearing that as well."

"Then let me wrap around you and I'll whisper it to you until we fall asleep." he says with that warm velvety tone that makes you hum in adoration.

"Please, do." you say enthusiastically, cuddling up back to chest with him, his head tilted to speak sweet words into your ear. Even though it was hardly minutes before you both fell asleep, the promise of Paris and his whispered affections were more than enough to leave you with sweet dreams.

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shidiand · 5 years

Note

How do you imagine Tenco's Story ending in your head?

that is a GREAT but UNEXPECTED QUESTION freshlybaked "spider" bread and i'm really happy to have the opportunity to try and answer this ageless question that has burned within all of us in the tenco's story iv waiting room community since 2013. it is an incredible coincidence (or is it? 👀) that i was just talking to Risa about tenco's this (edit: yesterday) morning so i am extra double super in the mood to talk about Tenco's Story today. so excellent of a coincidence is this that i am tempted to refer you to them in case you wanted to hear their thoughts on the matter that would probably turn out super cool, but that is neither here nor there; let us talk Tenco's Story.

i of course must mention my unadvertised and modestly detailed commentary on tenco's i-iii at https://shidiand.tumblr.com/tencos, presenting slightly interesting facts in an unwieldy and difficult-to-use format, but as it dates back to june 2017, i want to take some time to understand my feelings about the series once more.

tenco's story is a series that has a lot of meaning to me.

i took on my current name of shidiand in november of 2013. i was still in 11th grade at the time, 4th year of high school, and a very socially isolated person. i should say i was introduced to touhou in 7th grade, 2010, so i was still working through a 3 years-strong phase of trying to simultaneously both find an outlet for and bottle up an endless wellspring of awkward weeaboo-gamer nerd energy at the time.

i had my first real foray onto the internet in 2010, tried out twitter, followed some RPers and other people who had Cool Touhou Usernames. didn't really go anywhere. i had maybe 50 followers, i dont really know the count but it was definitely a) double digits and b) pretty low. didn't know what to tweet about. didn't know how to hit it off with others. i think there was basically maybe only 3 other people i ever properly interacted with. oh shit i was playing league of legends at the time. oh my god. i really did play league of .. oh my god. let's move on.

aw shit im super digressing amn't i. well.

this is just how it goes when i write essays on tumblr.com.

i'm afraid you're just along for the ride at this point so please do your best to enjoy it.

i got kind of tired of twitter at the time because i didnt know what to do with it. didnt know how to interact with people and didnt find the people i was following interesting, so i ghosted on out of there by the end of 2012. didnt deactivate it until like 2015 but at that point that was just burning away my dark history. anyways. november 2013.

--im taking a lot of time here trawling through old files on my computer, my tumblr blog, notification emails still lying around in my gmail inbox from twitter, the dropbox i didn't actually use but it had several tenco's story pictures on it but i deleted them so this was useless, ... to trace the timeline of this story and im really seeing a lot of remnants of dark history here you know? did you know i wrote a letter to a girl i had a crush on valentine's day 2014, slipped it into her locker, and anxiously hung around nearby at lunchtime to see how she reacted at lunchtime? i certainly didn't, or at least i made darn ass sure to forget about this incredible virgin incident and not remember it, ever, until i came across the records of it that i thoughtfully preserved for the me of 5 years later today. ok well now i have to read the letter to see if it was as bad as it just sounded there brb

ok so the good news is that it was actually very focused on being positive and full of admiration for the cool things she did instead of being a confession letter so i am very glad i was able to be a respectful chad 5 years ago, but the bad news is that the jokes, the actual sentences i put together. oh my god. but i mean. well. at least i got the spirit. its certainly a step up from this other person in my grade, WEEABOO ANDREW, YOU MAY RECALL THIS STORY AND HIS NAME FROM PREVIOUS STORYTIMES, THE MAN THE MYTH THE LEGEND who came to school on halloween once cosplaying kirito from sword art online and got very possessive about people asking if they could hold his black replica plastic sword, and probably worse, dropped a "will you be my girlfriend" letter into the locker of my homie and fellow trombonist samantha, who was a little bit nerdy, hung out with the anime-likers who were actually sociable and fun to be around so you can imagine why weeaboo andrew was into her, which had i) a direct quotation from SAO chapter 16.5 (origin of the famous "glopping noise" line), and ii) a condom. jesus christ. i dont want to talk about this any more. next topic.

i also put this drawing of iku nagae and her skarmory (actually an albinoss from 18 DRAGONS) on the other side of the letter because it was the coolest thing i could think of drawing at the time. and i completely agree with 2014 me because it IS super fucking cool. hell fuckin yeah

https://shidiand.tumblr.com/post/76301993387/iku-nagae-ft-that-thing-that-supposedly-is-a

alright that was a fun little trip down memory lane but lets get back on track. november 2013. i started anew as shidiand. still awkward, still learning how to express myself and looking for my place among others. i followed some touhou bloggers, hung around r/touhou a lot as well. in december i got my first tablet for christmas, a wacom bamboo splash. i still use this thing! the usb cable disconnects if you bump it so i have to find just the perfect position to sit in whenever i want to draw, but its served me well. anyways. i was just starting to play around with digital art but i remember, probably just before new years, for some reason i wanted to find out more about tenshi hinanawi (i don't remember why. tenshi wasn't even one of my favourite characters at the time) so i went googling and right there on zerochan i found this:

https://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=23525572

this was during my dark souls phase so i just went BANANAS at the sight of this. this was literally the coolest image i had ever seen in my internet life. That image alone made me want to draw in hopes that I could make something as cool as that someday.

it wasn't immediately after but i soon discovered tenco's story, and it was love. kannnu was my very first artistic inspiration, and for a long time, my only one. i absolutely idolized them at the time. since then, ive found other artists to look up to, in a more healthy manner, but to this day i still look up to kannnu, still admire their work a lot.

i played around with drawing, followed the lives of people on tumblr, started reading touhou fanfiction, made a new twitter. i met a lot of new people along the way. some people i havent stuck with, some i cut ties with, and some people i still keep in contact with today. over those long 5 years of being shidiand, i found a name (i used to use shidian and then shid, but someone called me shidi once and i realized that was a lot better), how to reach out to others, how to express myself, places that i could feel included in. this is why i owe a blood debt to evelyn, who permitted me to kneel at her throne and was like "yea ok you can join my discord server u seem cool". evelyn, if you were confused by me ominously mentioning this blood debt/blood oath in a tumblr reply 1-2 years ago, this is the context. those 5 years were like a coming of age of sorts, that i never had when i was in high school.

and my love for tenco's story, that inspired me to draw that day, has been with me since almost the very beginning of my time as shidiand. from the beginning, i have always encouraged people to READ TENCO'S STORY, like the kin of those who cry PLAY MELTY or WATCH SYMPHOGEAR. i think my very first sidebar description was something akin to a prayer, written in very choral language, hoping for the day tenco's story iv was completed, ..., "meanwhile, furious shitposting". kannnu's work, finding delight in whatever they chose to draw, has been at my side, all along. my true mentor, my guiding moonlight...

so that's why i still to this day love tenco's story so much.

let's talk about tenco's story.

tenco's story is a story told through single pictures. the plot is vague, and details are sparse. dialogue is rare. we only know what has happened; we seldom know why. furthermore, there are many gaps between scenes that the reader is left to fill in for themselves; we see only snapshots that form an hazy outline of the events that occurred, and must imagine the rest. motivations and explanations fail me. but even with a barebones plot, tenco's story has themes, and if nothing else, those have to be carried through.

the main theme, of course, is journey and travel, but there are also other ideas, too. i actually think they start to change as the series goes on:

book i, where tenshi runs away from home, is about striking out on your own. it's a very fun and unpredictable journey, together with a friend.

book ii, where tenshi and iku are separated, forces tenshi to find and rely on companions of her own even more. but they do so, and they are able overcome hardships, and there is food and festival.

book iii marks a climax, reasserting tenshi's goal of finding the sword of hisou. i feel like the journey shifts from a travel (visiting) to a path forwards (making your way through). perhaps this is just something i get from knowing the locations from dark souls (Anor Londo, New Londo Ruins, the Great Hollow), but the locations start to give more of a sense of verticality, like they're emphasizing tenshi's climb to the summit. the hardships and enemies are the greatest they've been yet, and right when they near the top, tenshi and iku start to bleed. the book ends on an uncertain note.

if i had to describe the type of journey and travel that tenshi and iku undertake, there's this sense of wonder at discovering new places, wandering from vista to vista in delight, but also a sense of conquering, making it through a difficult patch. the sequence from pages 2-44 to 2-51, taken together, convey this sense of overcoming the best. it's one of my favourite parts. again, although the tone definitely starts to lean towards struggle in book iii, i think tenco's sense of wonder really is the heart of the series. there's no map of the world, no predicting where tenshi and iku will end up next. and through their travels, though they come across many enemies, they also find friends -- places of refuge, places full of life, people who will look after them for a few days, companions who will stay with them for the rest of the journey. at the end of book iii, we see a long haired tenshi with purple hair being impaled by the sword of hisou (3-33, see also this extra illustration that risa pointed out to me http://sinnnkai.blog.fc2.com/blog-entry-195.html), and regular short haired tenshi continuing on her journey (3-42). if we ignore the out-of-story images where tenshi has the sword of hisou, tenshi has actually only ever used her sunlight blade (2-24, 3-26, etc), so i think that the long haired tenshi on 3-33 is a different person altogether. (if i had to guess, she might be the purple haired woman in the top left of https://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=35443328 as we have never seen that woman appear anywhere.) she probably has something to do with the flashbacks at the end of book ii and she might somehow be short-haired tenshi at the same time, but this is just speculation.

however, in 3-43, tenshi's hair is rather blue, so i don't know if this is the purple haired woman or not. if it is, tenshi is probably still fine and closing in on the summit, but if it isn't, then it's very worrying to see a picture of tenshi without any of her companions. it's very ominous.

meanwhile, iku, while climbing the red carpeted corridor, is stabbed, and disappears for a few pages. there's a black page, a shot of a shrine that strongly resembles the hakurei shrine, and a picture of iku standing behind someone in a tux, with the line "In the past, I was saved by the lady I was serving, you see?". and then iku wakes up in a field of flowers.

i think what this scene makes clear is a theme that has continued to appear and reappear throughout every book of "being saved, being aided by someone's kindness".

i think another theme that is implied and has to be addressed by this story of running away from home is "return". something im imagining is that the reason tenshi makes finding the sword of hisou her goal is because she wants to have something to prove herself with, to vindicate her when she comes home. but i don't think she needs to prove anything, and i ultimately think that she would be happier spending the rest of her life exploring.

so i think this should be what happens in the ending.

open on iku's journey, and give her a long sequence of travel without seeing tenshi. underline her newfound resolve. she climbs to the summit with albinoss, and finds the rest of tenshi's companions fallen. and in the last room is sword of hisou tenshi, who has lost herself, and it comes down to iku to bring her back. after a difficult battle, when both of them are on their last legs, iku is unable to stand any longer. but at this moment tenshi sees her companions struggling to get back up and reach her, and that's what brings her to her senses. and iku gets to see how many friends tenshi's been able to make on her own, and they finally and properly reunite. together, tenshi and iku carry each other out of the last room.

i don't think it's necessary to return to heaven. as a conclusion, dedicate some time to tenshi and iku travelling together. they're on their way back, revisiting old friends who helped them along the way, enjoying the journey. their last stop is the house of the elderly nawis (1-42). tenshi shows off the sword of hisou; she decided to keep it not as a trophy to show her family but as proof of the bonds of her companions. surrounded by friends, tenshi and iku decide to part ways with each other, knowing that the other will be alright. iku drifts among the clouds once more, and tenshi sets off for the horizon.

that's the plot that i'd write/just wrote. i don't really expect tenco's story iv to ever come out, though. i mentioned my first sidebar description earlier in this essay, but of course, you can see that it's been changed. 2 years ago, i read my hopeful prayer once more and was struck with a terrible melancholy, so now it reads this: "having come to terms with the fact that tenco's story iv will never be released, i can still live, knowing that the spirit of the journey will live on through kannnu's original works [...] meanwhile, furious shitposting".

on one level, tenco's story is a story, but in the process of following it, i came to think of the work itself as a journey too. you can constantly see kannnu's improvement between and even within each book. they have always drawn whatever they liked; what plot matters in the face of "I wanted to draw a beautiful sky." "I wanted to draw a fantastic battle." "I wanted to draw Dark Souls and Monster Hunter and Pokemon and Brave Fencer Musashi and Bokura no Taiyou and Touhou."

its not really kannnu's style to go back and tie up old ends. they just draw whatever makes them happy. so as i watch them continue to draw beautiful places and fantastic creatures, new characters heading out on journeys of their own or just enjoying their everyday lives, it's as if tenco's story never ended. the limits and consistency of that world ignored, and a new one springs up; in a way, the world of tenco's, which had such thin boundaries, just gets bigger.

but even so, having said all that, i still see them draw that short-haired tenshi from time to time. it makes me happy to see them remember tenco's story with such fondness. often crossing over with orion or roar or elweiss, you can see tenshi on another journey.

#tenco's story #freshlybakedspiderbread

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vicky94629563-blog · 5 years

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Best Wishes For Birthday Mom And Dad

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More.....

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