okay i also have no ideas (is it just a writers disease where they can write anything but cannot think of a single idea because i think we need to find the cure) but all i know is akaashi is the MOST autumn boy with his cardigans and sweaters and late nights so. someone (not us) should come up with an idea about him (for me.)

ok now go send me a kuroo request so i can write u a fic❤️❤️❤️ LET ME WRITE THE FIC OF UR DREAMS FOR U!!!! ilysm muah

OMG okay okay but there might actually be something with that Akaashi tidbit ... I just have to let it fester a bit (okay poor word choice but you get it) and who knows I might actually have something?? Even though it's been LITERALLY years since I wrote anything for Akaashi oops.

It's so sad but I literally can't even formulate an idea to request ;-; I'll think about it though!! In the meantime gimme a few days and who knows I might just whip up a lil Akaashi fluff for you 💕

Sermon for Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost (8/8/21)

Primary Text | Psalm 34:1-8

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Dear People of God,

Psalm 34 has much to teach and preach to us. It is first and above all a very encouraging psalm. In just these eight verses this psalm bursts open with a litany of God’s promises—promises such as: the LORD answers those who seek him (vs. 4), the LORD delivers us from all our fears (vs. 4), that the faces of those who look to the LORD shall never be ashamed (vs. 5), that the LORD has heard the cry of this poor soul (vs. 6), that the LORD saves us from every trouble (vs. 6), that the LORD delivers those who fear him (vs. 7), and finally, that the LORD is good and happy are those who take refuge in him (vs. 8).

One must not approach this psalm with logic, nor can experience be relied upon. Logic will tell you, “Maybe God can deliver us from some of our fears, but certainly not all our fears, the LORD hasn’t saved you from every trouble, has he? Experience will also barrage you with doubts, saying, “Is the LORD really good? You can’t completely rely on God to be your refuge. God’s not that reliable, after all.” The conclusions of logic and experience though they may appeal to us, are in fact, fatal. Of course, if you look with your eyes and see all the terrible things you have experienced—whether it be a life-altering disease, the horrible death of a loved one, the betrayal of someone you trusted, the threat of someone with power over you, etc., etc…If you look at these, you may very well despair. And so, we must not and cannot rely on logic or experience. The promises of this passage can only be understood and received with the eyes of faith. Faith, that deep, abiding trust in God that clings to Christ alone, and absolutely nothing else. (pause) Martin Luther has an insight for us to help us trust that God is good despite all apparent contradictions, he says, “For this is the Christian art, which we must all learn, the art of looking to the Word and looking away from all the trouble and suffering that lies upon us and weighs us down.” And here Luther actually echoes verse 5 of the psalm: “Look to him, and be radiant; so your faces shall never be ashamed.” Luther, and the Psalm Writer, turn our faces away from absolutely all the darkness we encounter, and then they turn our faces to the LORD, to the Word, to the promise, to the Christ. What does that mean? That trouble, suffering, and darkness that weighs heavy are not the things we should rely on—we must only rely on the LORD Christ as the one whom we can depend and who gives us life.

It is the promise that God is gracious in Jesus Christ that certainly does and will deliver you from all your fears. What we rely upon is the promise of the Word, that is, the Word about Christ who “for the life of the world has given his flesh.” We know God has heard our cries because Christ is the bright, shining light of our faith. He gives you, yes specifically you who hear this message today many promises that stand firm against the troubles of this world. (grab hammer) In fact, Jesus’ Word is a hammer that breaks whatever darkness we face to pieces, like where Jesus says, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty” (John 6:35)… “Everything that the Father gives me I will never drive away” (John 6:37)… “And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day” (John 6:39)… “This is indeed the will of my Father, that all who see the Son and believe in him may have eternal life; and I will raise them up on the last day” (John 6:40)… “Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life” (John 6:47)… “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh” (John 6:51).

With the Psalmist, we can praise God saying, “My soul makes its boast in the LORD; let the lowly hear and be glad” (Ps. 34:2). This directs all us poor and beaten down souls to boast in the LORD alone. Do we boast that death and darkness and sin seek to overwhelm us every day we live? Never! There is never a time we go without the blessing of the LORD. We boast in the LORD. And we can because of Jesus’ death and resurrection has defeated all evil. We boast in the LORD who has given us his flesh as the guarantee that we will have eternal life. We boast not in our despair but in the Word of the Lord that will not lose any of us. In our First Reading today Elijah felt lost and was in despair and asked the LORD to take his life away (1 Kings 19:4). Elijah wanted to die. After all, he was in dire straits, Jezebel had it out to assassinate him. He didn’t see any escape. What was the LORD’s response? Did the LORD say, “Yep, we might as well give up”? Never! The LORD sent his angel who touched him and said, “Get up and eat.” And Elijah looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again.” (1 Kgs 19:5-6). Did the LORD give up on him then? Never! Instead, the angel of the LORD came to him a second time and said, “Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” Elijah got up, and ate and drank, then he went in the strength of that food” (1 Kgs 19:8). God provided ways to strengthen and establish Elijah. And just as God had compassion on the despairing Elijah, so he has compassion on you. He beckons you too, whatever you are going through, to get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you. And so, he provides the food of his own body and blood under the bread and wine. Indeed, Jesus instituted the Lord’s Supper to strengthen you. The Lord’s Supper is food for the journey, it is for all who are weak and feel their need. Every time you partake of it you can be assured that you are given eternal life, salvation, and the forgiveness of sins. Indeed, in the Word and the sacraments God both gives and does his promises to you, so that you may know that the LORD is good. God attaches his goodness to the words of proclamation, to the bread and wine of the supper, and to the water of holy baptism so that you will have a word that delivers you from all your fears and all your troubles. Now I declare unto you what the Lord has commanded me to do: I forgive you all your sins in the name of Jesus Christ. No matter where life takes you (even if it’s to Oklahoma), you shall never be lost, nor shall you perish. In his Word he turns you away from all your troubles and to himself. And in him you shall never be put to shame. You have eternal life which can never be taken away from you; for the sake of Christ.

Hello I recently began reading historical fiction (both mystery and romance) and I remember you commenting some time ago that you like to read historical romance. Do you have any recommendations? I’m still new to the genre and am finding what I like and don’t like. Thank you. Ps I like your header , Julia Quinn is grate

Hi Anon,

I’m quite fussy myself when it comes to historical romance, but hopefully I can be of some help - I’m really not into ham joints for hands, musclar men and a lot of authors across romance genre tend to base their hero’s around this image. It’s always important to read reviews especially when you’re testing the waters, they sometimes give more detailed descriptions or offer trigger warnings or just warnings of distress (which are much needed, my heart has been broken many a time and a spoiler would have been appreciated). However, don’t base all your judgment on others views, if you think it sounds good but top reviews don’t, just go for it - but if it’s got mostly 2 star reviews then maybe not.

Amanda Quick might be your cup of tea as she combines mystery and romance in a 19th century setting. If you’re just into period mystery then Agatha Christie is always a reccomendation. She’s actually how I got into hr, well Christie and a really good fic writer who wrote an amazing historic au years ago.

A few of my favourites:

Fool for love by Eloisa James. Some heartbreaking moments in this book, for context the heroine has had an injured hip since birth, “They said you would never marry, Henrietta. You are married. They said you would never dance. We are dancing. And they said you would never give birth. But I know you. I know you want this baby. We’ll go to every doctor in England if we have to. We can find someone who will save the baby. And you.”

A week to be wicked by tessa dare - this book is wild - fake betrothals, sharing a bed, science fairs, scientific dirty talk, impromptu weddings, sword swallowing, pretending to have an affair to hide in plain sight, misunderstandings, highwaymen chasing them and lets not forget being robbed at gun point with our hero left for dead before our heroine knocks the lights out of the unsuspecting bandit. This book seems like fanfiction, more specifically fitzsimmons fanfiction. Once I read it I was tempted to write it but I’m a bad writer. Worth noting this book is one of the few books I enjoy both by the author and in the ‘spindle cove’ series, the book prior to this is a good read, the rest are mixed.)

Seven Years to Sin by Sylvia Day is great, I like-love it but I don’t love-love it. The hero coveted heroine for several years however she married during this time, she becomes widowed and the two meet by chance and explore the sparks that have been between them since the moment they laid eyes on one another.

Scandal of the Year by Laura Lee Ghurke - fyi only a pretence of adultery none actually committed- Hero and heroine are discovered in bed together by heroines husband which results in divorce, yes the scandal! Hero has no idea how he ended up in bed with the heroine, he remembers nothing other than her kiss before all fades to black. One later, they meet again, we learn their lives have intersected since they were 16, each coveting the other at one point or another yet too afraid to say something. Basically, Hero wants a future with heroine, heroine is scared and wants to enjoy her freedom after her horrid first marriage.

Her Ladyships Companion by Evangeline Collins - fyi, adultery is committed but your heart aches for the heroine, she was so young when she married and he is so horrid you just want her to be happy ahh spoilers anyway - Hero is a male prostitute (I blame fanfic for my love of this rare trope), he is hired by our heroines close friend who believes heroine deserves some attention in her life. She has every intention of sending him away until she meets him and everything changes. Their relationship is great until Hero realises he wants more than she can give him. He leaves and asks she not to contact for him again, yet he is summoned once more. Does he go back? Will they ever be able to have a real relationship? 🤷🏻‍♀️

When beauty tamed the beast by Eloisa James - the Hero honestly reminds me of Fitz from aos, he’s such a grump. Our hero is a doctor - an upfront and emotionless one at that. He was injured as a child resulting in a permanent limp and the use of a cane. Our heroine is beautiful, the talk of the town and allegedly pregnant having been spotted kissing a prince then throwing up after eating less than fresh prawns at a season event. The hero’s father thinks that his son will never marry or beget an heir (he believes his son impotent) and so arranges a marriage between he and the hero, believing that she is already pregnant which would provide him his heir. The hero is no fool, as a doctor he knows a stuffed pillow when he sees one. This book is packed with affairs by the beach, a spreading disease, a race against time and thunder storms. This book also includes the heroine coming to terms with what she perceives as her loss of looks, as someone who prided herself on looks alone it is such an amazing journey to see her inner thoughts. This book is great, and I really recommend it.

The Earl takes All by Lorraine Heath - I cannot put this book into words. It’s heartbreaking but it’s worth the pain.

Less angsty books include the Westcott series by Mary Balogh (all save the last, Someone to Care, I didn’t care much for the protagonists as I had grew to dislike the heroine in prior books). I’m currently re-reading this series.

Someone to Love - Anna Snow has lived at the orphanage for as long as she can remember, whilst others left once of age, she stayed on to become a teacher (alongside her best friend Joel). One day she receives a letter from a solicitor to meet him in London. She discovers she is the only legitimate heir to an aristocrat after it is revealed he committed bigotry. She is thrust into a life she could never have imagined, with the help of Avery, a handsome lord, to guide her.

Someone to Hold - Camille Westcott begins teaching in the very orphanage Anna grew up in so she can find herself - if her half sibling can live so lowly, so can she. She meets Joel, an artist who teaches art once a week - they immediately dislike each other, due to his loyalty to Anna who is his best friend and the woman he once proposed to. He admires the way she engages the children and sees something in her that Camille doesn’t see herself. There’s sparks, heartbreak and a new discovery that could change Joel’s world forever.

Someone to wed - upon inheriting the Westcott title as the closest male relative to the late Earl of Riverdale, Alexander, the penniless Earl also inherits a mansion which is in desperate need of repairing. Thankfully for him, Wren, his neighbour, has just the solution to his financial problems. Marriage. Having only met Wren, a woman who hides herself behind a dark vail, ten minutes prior, Alex is taken aback by her offer. It’s the perfect solution but why would she marry a total stranger? And what is she hiding behind the vail?

I would also recommend Anna Bradley, her writings are quite light hearted and The Firstborn by Quenby Olson (latter is a clean romance).

I hope you enjoy these recommendations anon, I have tons more if not. I must warn a majority of these are angsty and so Julia Quinn may be a good read in between books. I hope you’re able to find the trope that you like 💕🦔

Calling Out to My Past: Rap Music and Suburbia in the 1990s: Part 1

It begun with a record.  Bigger and Deffer by LL Cool J.  My older brother got hold of it, played it regularly and I could not help but listen. For a young boy with attention problems, this had the amazing effect of bringing me some kind of centre point for a while.  After lots of pestering, he recorded onto cassette for me and it rarely left my Walkman. It is obvious to say, but in the mid-1980s outer-London suburbia, this was a new sound; a genuinely unheard type of music.

These articles will not be any comprehensive history of hip hop culture; this is just about how it affected my life; how it helped me form my character and switch me on to a world outside; of injustice and the need to fight back; of a world where imagination to create was not restricted or sneered at. This is not nostalgia because that disease needs killing off; this is just about life.

I grew up in the suburbs of Hillingdon.  Not a place full of diversity, nor originality.  While the social upheaval of Rave was going on somewhere in the country, ‘going out’ in my world meant going down the park, or sometimes to Harrow or Uxbridge shopping centres.  Live music did not exist and record shops were not on the agenda; we bought our 7” singles in Woolworths.

Houses were either the post-war verity or the new builds that look like show houses for your own remake of Village of the Damned.  Some were pastel; many had a Vauxhall of some verity on the driveway.  The music these people listened to was universally appalling.  I somehow knew from early on it had nothing to do with me.

They like things the same and are not into relating to difference. These are the sort of people Heart FM and Magic were invented for.

The cover of Bigger and Deafer had a many in slick clothes and a chain around his neck, standing on a car bonnet.  Somehow I knew it was New York City.  The sound, as the cliché goes, was like nothing I had ever heard before but really, that’s the truth.  Beats were not coming from a drum kit; there were no guitars or synths and central to it all was one confident man with amazing word skills.

Even kids in my primary school had no idea who LL Cool J was.  As my brother got bored with the record, I got that too.  I would not have thought of myself as the type who liked poetry but something went in my head when I heard things like the opening lines of My Rhyme Ain’t Done:

 ‘The president woke and he called the pope

The pope planted heaven on a golden rope

PS the Lord raised Michelangelo from the dead

So he could make a fresh painting of my head’

Now bragging is something that became tiresome in rap music and everywhere else pretty quickly but lines like that were at least a little inventive; calling upon the almighty to raise a great artist purely to paint your portrait. The wordplay was something that always impressed me. Rap music was from another world and that was before it fully opened my mind to the social reality of American life.  This was giving us news, while we were still recovering from the BBC re-cutting footage of the miner’s struggles at Orgrieve.

The next few years passed without incident musically (or much else). Music came from the radio and rarely stayed in the head for long, although as mentioned there was something brewing in the fields that you occasionally caught wind of, perhaps while watching late-night Channel 4, but that was as close as I ever got.  My life was a tired, cultural wasteland.

Then, I became a teenager.

One day, it must have been in 1992 or early 93, I was walking to the train station when I saw some kid with a Public Enemy t-shirt.  It looked like my thing; the three main members sitting around a skull, Flavour Flav smiling with his mouth full of gold teeth; some uniformed heavies standing behind them.

Later, probably in an Our Price, I took a punt on the album Apocalypse 91: The Enemy Strikes Black, whose cover was the t-shirt design.  I remember first hearing it on a Saturday night; it made an impact.  Public Enemy’s best is generally accepted to be It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back and Fear of a Black Planet and I agree; but A91 will always have a special place for me – my introduction to the harsh beats of The Bomb Squad’s production that can still loosen your teeth and the rhyming dominance of Chuck D on songs about the lasting legacy of slavery, police harassment and brutality – all so sadly relevant today.  The unrelenting nature of this music, not letting you up for air yet still having positive messages, was very influential.

This music was almost always a Walkman thing.  As I got further into the genre the amount of naughty words were going to be a problem if my parents over-heard (although it is debateable they were ever switched off enough to not really know), so bar the odd-Saturday afternoon when everybody was out, music listening was a clandestine affair.  I could be in the same room as the family, moronically staring at the TV for another episode of Only Fools and Horses or Noel Edmonds on whatever weekend pap was allowing us to forget the oncoming Monday morning; but I had a different soundtrack pumping through my earphones.  They got served the mainstream; I sat at the back of the living room with a revolution beginning in the head.

Public Enemy became a staple but then there was Ice-T.  A former criminal turned rapper who documented life on the tough streets with an authentic voice, inventing Gangster Rap in the process.  He bragged a little, but specifically made the point that he (and you) were as good as anyone; Going from a broken family, passing through gang life then moving to Beverley Hills to a big house full of guns, in case anyone took a real dislike to his presence.

Another boy in my school, a posh white boy from the pricey end of Northwood, leant me Power and OG (Original Gangster).  These albums contained a fully-realised artistic vision; the tales of modern street life, criminality and consequence; standing up to authority and learning to stand up against injustice.  The message was ‘I may have been poor and black in America, but now I am rich and black and not backing down’.

However this is not a rosy look back; consumption of the music of Ice-T was not without it’s problems. His attitude towards women was pretty shit; nothing but fuck machines really, but that has always blighted the genre.

Similarly Ice Cube had indulged in this sort of thing, but he also gave us the undiluted rage of what it was like to be on the receiving end of police harassment and brutality.

When we saw the LA riots on TV, it was of course shocking but there was zero attempt

by the news to enquire why this was happening – why were some people calling it an uprising?  To begin to answer questions like that, we had to turn to The Predator.

In an interview with Hip Hop Connection magazine, Ice Cube had praised the response in LA to the acquittal of four police officers who had been caught on video severely beating a man named Rodney King.  He expressed regret that some people had been hurt, but pointed out that ‘America doesn’t hear pickets and protest singing, she just hears mass destruction’.

The Predator was an historical document according to one writer at the music magazine MOJO.

Through listening to that album I learnt who Darryl Gates was (‘that’s where all the hate went’); through Cypress Hill’s Black Sunday I learnt about how to mix musical style from punk intensity (as Public Enemy had done) with a more laid back style that did not compromise on the content on the song.

Through the 2 Live Crew (yes they were shit but still), Ice-T and Body Count, I learnt about censorship and how it worked and who it targeted.  Why was there a live version of a Phil Collins song on Capital FM where he talked about a woman who ‘may fuck up your life’ and my parents didn’t have a problem with him?

I was not a mainstream suburban boy; I never had been and it was clear never would be; now I had my own taste, a growing interest in politics and the stories of the dispossessed; plus my wardrobe was changing to include t-shirts of my favourite artists and jackets with a logo of some US football team called the LA Raiders.

Everything had changed.

 End of Part 1