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pridesobright · 4 years

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If you’re up for it, what artist or painting do each of the boys remind you of?

disclaimer: art is subjective, so are people’s opinions, and my choices are based on my perception of the boys’ personalities. you may not agree with me, therefore the paintings might not correspond to what you had imagined… still, i tried to shed a light on my own thoughts, which is something i rarely do on tumblr — i tried to remain as objective and positive as possible!

+ louis —

louis is so fiercely good! supportive, loyal, brave… i’ve never seen someone so witty and intelligent, caring and sensitive. louis shines, louis sparkles!!

but he also tells stories like no else. it is truly fascinating how louis can turn the smallest life experiences into masterpieces!! the raw emotions he’s able to convey in just a sentence: we’re sleeping on our problems like we’ll solve them in our dreams…. it’s easy getting lost into louis’ ocean blue eyes but it’s even easier falling for his talent — through storytelling, louis always shares a positive message and i’m in awe of the way he goes through life despite everything that’s been thrown at him. passionate and driven, louis is authentic and unapologetically himself!

i decided to associate louis with gustav klimt — the artist received a conservative and classical training and began his career painting churches and theaters, following the traditional and historical style popular at the time. quite similar to louis’ mindset at the start of his solo career, klimt focused on what the upper class expected of him! however, he kept developing a more meaningful personal style. one that relied on symbolism and the extensive use of the ornamental gold leaf. his paintings were highly decorative and it is the aesthetic of klimt’s work that made the connection so easy ♡

gustav klimt painted many women in erotic positions, embracing their nudity and a celebration of sexuality, which was controversial at the time. but more than that, the artist depicted loving embraces, abandonment and passion. tenderness. and by coating his paintings in golden powder, klimt created a warm cocoon around his subjects! 1. adele bloch-bauer I - 2. judith I (details) - 3. le baiser (details)

louis is so often associated with the color yellow and it’s easy to understand why — yellow is the most luminous color and is the symbol of happiness, optimism and enlightenment. as a warm color, yellow represents light and creates a sense of hope: it is radiant! gold shares many of the same attributes. it is bright, cheerful and is often associated with love, courage and passion. gold illuminates our world and so does louis!

+ zayn —

zayn is very creative, expressive and imaginative. i’d say he’s cautious and overall very intelligent about his privacy! society will often describe quiet people as mysterious, and it romanticizes anxiety in a way that makes my blood boils… it’s a dangerous culture where people with mental disorders are seen as edgy or cool when in reality they are deeply misunderstood. at times defensive, i believe zayn is strong-willed and values his freedom more than anything!

associating zayn with street art was a given. is there anything more liberating than leaving your trace into the world, anonymously and illegally, without knowing if your work will be painted over in the next few days or a couple of years?

artists such as roa, bansky, kobra, invader or shepard fairey have now made a huge impact, and street art has been popularized. many paintings are known worldwide but before then, you had the travel the world to seek out the artists’ works!

and even if some murals can be seen from afar, they draw you in no matter what. like an invisible pull, some are forcing you to cross the street or climb a few stairs to get closer — zayn draws you in! whether people are affected by his quiet personality, his looks or the sheer quality of his voice, you can’t help but want to learn more about him!

i chose behind the curtain by martin whatson for that very reason! at first cold and unreachable, zayn is full of qualities and life experiences deserving to be uncovered.

martin whatson is a stencil artist working in oslo. looking for beauty in decayed and abandoned urban spaces, he developed his style using grey tones as a basis and adding vibrant colours to bring a splash of life. i also love pull back and behind the wall ♡

+ niall —

to me, niall is the type of person who’s enjoying life as best as he can, and fully appreciating everything there is to offer. whether it be passion, irritation, love, fun or distress. mainly because of his cheerful and bubbly personality, he’s seemingly going through life as if it was a big fest! but don’t be fooled, he knows heartbreak too and there’s more to him!!

niall’s albums feel warm, nostalgic and intimate. we’re being let in into a part of him without any flourishes. a melody strummed on his guitar and here we are, transported into the past and reminiscing about an old lover. niall definitely is a romantic! listening to heartbreak weather, there is so much tenderness into his songs…

this painting is called manège de cochons by robert delaunay — it is part of a series devoted to modern urban life and popular shows. carried away by a whirlwind of vibrant colors, it recreates the lively atmosphere of the fairgrounds.

it definitely represents niall and his complex mind. the colors, so vibrant, are an ode to his cheerfulness. for delaunay, primary colors and their complements exalt each other by contrast. and the same tone can be perceived differently depending on its intensity or its arrangement!

at first, only the vibrancy and the warmth shine through but just like everyone else’s, niall’s mind is intricate. his emotions are raw and he puts his pain into songs, as if to compartmentalize everything. as if to tame those feelings and memories, maybe too loud at times! the colors aren’t just splash of nuances scattered across the canvas, they are deliberate. with purpose, they tell a story…

+ liam —

liam is good! and he always goes out of his way to do something good. he often tries to be more mindful of his actions. he’s constantly learning and just like everyone else liam makes mistakes, but he actively grows from them!!

liam is extremely talented, funny and charismatic, yet i feel like he’s not easily understood. he’s a very sensitive, sincere and sweet person, and despite everything liam went through, he remains cheerful, generous and courageous!

he is also passionate and pursues many hobbies — be it fashion, art, cooking or comics: he is well-versed in many topics and it’s a real pleasure to now follow him on youtube!!

robert rauschenberg was passionate about many mediums himself, and he incorporated newspapers, photographs and even some objects (undershirt, parasol parts) onto the canvas before adding broad strokes of paint! he kept exploring the boundaries of art and closely followed the current events of the time, using images of space flight and NASA’s photographs into his work — space (tribute 21) is a personal favorite ♡

i actually picked a selection of artworks to match liam’s personality: 1. untitled (red painting) - 2. untitled (red painting) - 3. red interior. i particularly love that last one, as the far-right stripe reminds me of liam’s chevron tattoo!!

for many years now, liam has been associated with red and it’s no surprise at all — red is the color of passionate love, seduction and adventure. strength, vitality and ambition. it used to be seen as the color of fire, a primal life force. to the greeks, red symbolized super-human heroism. liam is a force of nature, strong both physically and mentally. he is hard-working and energetic!

+ harry —

forget about the way harry has been portrayed ever since he was a sixteen-year-old boy. forget about the curls and the dimples. simply observe the person harry is today. take a closer look at what he decides to share with us. pay attention to the way he’s presenting himself.

fine line (the album) takes us on an introspective journey into his deepest emotions — whether it be torment or happiness. and i think it’s fascinating how well-executed his songs are! even in a catchy and happy song such as golden, harry managed to address quite a raw and painful concept: i’m hopeless, broken, so you wait for me in the sky / i don’t want to be alone — it’s heartbreaking, yet you almost wished you could feel it too!

through various allegories and metaphors, harry makes you question yourself. he interrogates you and talks about a reality you didn’t know existed or could relate to. harry is magnetic.

this painting is called composition XI by vassily kandinsky — and i can’t help but compare both harry and vassily. kandinsky was a painter, professor, poet and art theorist, generally credited as the pioneer of abstract art! he spent years creating sensorially rich paintings, and was fascinated by musicians who could evoke images in listeners’ minds. he strove to work with forms and colors that alluded to sounds and emotions!!

in songs like fine line, the music swells and deflates as if it was a beating heart. each track conveys a different emotion and translates a distinct concept! through his melodies, harry aims to make us feel joy, melancholy, determination or bitterness, even when the lyrics are anything but. his albums leave us speechless and wondering, just like abstract art!

+ overall, this is what art is meant to make you feel! it’s supposed to challenge you. art is meant to make you rethink your boundaries and open up your mind. it’s meant to question you and leave you wanting for more! you are meant to listen to a song several times to fully understand its meaning, and meant to stand in front of a painting for hours to start grasping the artist’s thought process…

yet art remains subjective! depending on your own life experiences and upbringing. art is free for you to interpret as you wish and so is music! i hope you enjoyed this post, thank you for reading it ♡

#have i spent way too much time on this? YES #did i turn the ask into an essay?? YES #i hope at least a few people will be interested in this #and as i said in the disclaimer: those are MY opinions #i hope you're still around there anon ♡#jess parle à la lune #jess répond

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saladejin · 5 years

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Shell | OT7

OT7 x Reader | idolverse | Fluff and poly relationships

Summary: When she’s lived in their shadow for her whole career, how will a sudden change wreak havoc in her carefully hidden life?

Word Count: 5.9k

*Request from my Ao3 series ‘Movie Night’.

Before they knew you, you were only known as the girl who writes. A hooded figure in the background, absolutely nothing to them. Nothing but the girl behind the computers making sure they all got the attention they deserved.

You watched as the Bangtan boys rose to success. From day one to ‘biggest boyband on the planet’; you were there but they didn’t know, and that was fine by you. Things were quiet…but how were you supposed to know that it would change all too quickly?

“Your article was magnificent as usual, I’ll send it to be published this afternoon,” Bang PD smiled at you from behind his thick-rimmed glasses, but you could only bow your head and look away in a show of timidness.

When people praised you, you never really knew quite what to do with yourself. This was why you kept so many of your talents hidden other than your writing. Attention was something that terrified you more often than not.

“If it’s okay I’d like to speak with Mr.Lee about the ratings from last week. Will he be here soon?” You clasped your hands together patiently.

“Ah, yes of course. You can wait over there for him, he shouldn’t be long,” Bang PD pointed to the row of cushioned chairs near the doorway. You smiled thankfully and walked over to settle in for the few remaining minutes.

You tapped your foot absent-mindedly, fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt. Honestly you would rather be back at the studio working on that new painting you’d started last night, or even back at your laptop to finish writing the chapter of your rough novel, but your job called for attention to detail. You would have to wait to perfect that new song later…

“PD-nim! Have they finished their piece this week?”

You jerked your head up as the strange yet familiar voice piped up from somewhere in the room. Namjoon and Jimin of BTS had somehow made their way inside without you even noticing. You blinked in shock as you watched the way the two handsome boys leaned casually on their close producer’s desk.

Usually I’m the one that isn’t noticed, how come I didn’t notice them this time?

Maybe you were just too distracted in your urges to get home and do something. Your hidden sketchbooks were waiting, your feet were itching to dance to the sound of the soft music playing over the nearby speakers.

“You’re enthusiastic about her stuff every week Namjoon-ah and Jimin-ah, so luckily this week she’s right over there to answer your questions,” Bang PD chuckled while you stiffened in your seat. He should’ve known better than to put you on the spot like that.

“Huh? She?” Namjoon widened his eyes and whipped his head around to see you sitting near the entrance of the room. Jimin’s lips parted in awed shock as you straightened your posture and waved to them shyly. It was only natural that they hadn’t seen you there from the beginning, but now you were feeling slightly uncomfortable at their stunned gazes being focused on you so intently.

In the end, that was how you got to know the boys. It seemed that they had all been pretty big fans of your articles and writing pieces about the lives of idols, along with what it all meant to them, the people around them and even their fans.

Namjoon organised coffee dates for the both of you just so you could catch up when your schedules were free, which was rare by the way. You would chat about so many things ranging from pointless small talk to philosophical concepts, and the whole time you had no idea how you had missed out on befriending someone so thoughtful. Someone who had an almost intuitive understanding of so many aspects of the world he lived in.

Jimin was the first to invite you over to meet the rest of the boys. He wouldn’t shut up about how excited they all were, but you felt more nervous than anything. You had this whole secret life hidden away from the eyes of others, but if you grew close to the idols you wrote so passionately about, who was to say they wouldn’t discover these secrets and start telling people?

You were terrified, but at the same time you felt like taking the risk. If you lived an isolated life you would never be able to forgive yourself. You couldn’t let these gifts of yours hold you back from something as simple as making friends. You really couldn’t call them gifts then, could you? They would be hindrances more than anything.

The first incident occurred one night when you’d rushed over to make it just in time for dinner. Seokjin had cooked up a storm and everyone was lively due to recent album releases. You tumbled into the dorm puffing, apologising profusely for your tardiness even though no-one minded all that much.

“I made your favourite, so don’t even worry. There’s no way we’d start without you,” Seokjin murmured upon seeing your stressed out expression.

“(Y/n)-noona, why are your hands covered in paint?” Jungkook queried loudly. Your heart skipped a beat as everyone turned to look in your direction.

“Uh, I decided to dabble in arts. Only a little, it’s not great,” You smiled shyly, cursing yourself for not washing your hands and moving to clasp them together behind your back for the time being. You watched Taehyung’s eyes widen immensely at the discovery.

“You have to show me! Please tell me you have photos,” The energetic young man rushed over from where he was seated on the couch, but you were feeling overwhelmed by all the pairs of eyes trained on you all of a sudden.

“Guys settle, we should know that someone such as (Y/n) would have skills other than writing. Leave the poor girl alone,” Yoongi came to your defence luckily, and you breathed out a sigh of relief as the younger band members backed off instantly. You flashed a grateful smile towards the black-haired rapper.

Yoongi and Namjoon had been the most finely tuned to your fears and mannerisms so far. They were both perceptive enough to see when you needed help, or those rare instances when you needed attention. The amount of times you’d confided in them for a general rant or just to vent about some deep theory you’d come across numbered many.

“Sorry, but will you show us one day?” Taehyung frowned, and you could see how he was fighting with himself into not pressuring you too much.

“We’ll see, you know I have to actually be good at it first,” You laughed, feeling happier when you saw the members break into their own warm smiles.

The dinner went smoothly after that, and you had excused yourself almost instantly to the nearest bathroom, ready to scrub the various shades of greens and reds from your fingers. You hadn’t the foggiest idea on how you’d let it slip your usually attentive notice.

The second incidence happened after that one eventful day. That day when Namjoon told you how he felt.

You were hanging in his studio as he explained the ideas behind some new tracks. You couldn’t help but sigh in awe as you read through his lyrics and heard what he had in mind for the songs themselves. There were so many layers and so many feelings poured into these words. You couldn’t believe your eyes or ears.

“Sounds like you’ve got someone on your mind,” You giggled when you continued to flip through his notebook, coming across a few jumbled verses that spoke endearingly about what seemed to be one person. Your heart stuttered when you flickered your eyes to the top of the page, only to read your own name printed messily as the title.

“Wait!” Namjoon exhaled sharply and plucked the notebook from your hands, shoulders slumping in defeat as he read over what you had just seen. You felt warmth spread from your head to your toes as you thought about what had been implied through the lyrics.

“You wrote that, for me?”

Namjoon screwed his face up slightly as he smiled, dimples popping cutely.

“Yeah, sorry it’s so cheesy. I didn’t mean for you to see that…yet. Shit, I swear we were calling it something different too.”

We?

You got to your feet and crouched in front of his chair, wishing he would stop looking at the ground in his sheer bout of embarrassment. He looked into your eyes, and for the first time ever you felt as though you were the one who had to discover the secrets this man kept hidden away.

“Namjoon-ah, what are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say that I love you, (Y/n). But there’s something else.”

The blush danced against your cheeks as you heard him say the words you honestly hadn’t been expecting, but your tiny shy smile pursed when you caught the last part of his sentence. You both stood up and he took your hands into his own in a sweet gesture of comfort.

“We came to an agreement, the boys and I, that whoever managed to tell you first would have to let you know about the rest.”

“The rest?” You balked, trying not to lose yourself in the feeling of his slightly calloused hands cradling your own.

“The rest, as in the rest of them. We all love you, and we all came to terms with that a while ago,” Namjoon chose his words carefully, making sure there was no fear or uncertainty lingering within your eyes. He always knew how to smooth out your frayed nerves, and he always knew just how loud to speak or just how close to stand when he was with you. In this way, you were able to easily absorb and think about what had just happened.

“God, I can’t express just how happy I am to hear that,” You managed to keep calm somehow. You didn’t know how, since this was something absolutely massive and ground-breaking in general to your relationships, but in this moment you only felt happiness.

“I seriously believe I love all of you too, in different ways. I didn’t think it was romantically but now that you’ve told me I think it just might be…”

You shakily took a seat as Namjoon rubbed your shoulders soothingly. Words could not convey the admiration, respect and affection you held for this man. When you thought about every single one of them actually, these emotions still showed stronger than ever. You had finally come to terms with what your heart had been trying to tell you for so long.

As mentioned before, the second incident occurred a day after this discovery. After a night of celebration and conversation with all the members, you had all agreed to be in a relationship together. It sounded messy and way too open-ended, but none of you could wish for anything more or less.

The setting was then the all too familiar dance studio. This was the room full of floor-length mirrors that had basically become their second home. It was a room you spoke about quite frequently in your endeavours to capture the lives of K-pop idols. Their efforts were written into the various marks littering the floor, yet their successes were found deeply embedded within their very bones.

“Thanks for helping me with practice,” Jimin smiled as he took a swig from his drink bottle. You had been watching him dance to various songs while letting him know what seemed to need improving. You didn’t think you were being helpful at all, but he apparently thought you were the all-knowing God when it came to dancing.

Before you could reply, a certain song started playing from his queue in the playlist. Your mind short-circuited because it was the singular song you had been learning a routine for following its recent release. Subconsciously, you leapt to your feet and felt your toes twitching in your shoes to start moving through the steps. You internally screamed at your apparent ‘muscle memory’, for there was no way you could actually dance while Jimin was there with you.

Jesus, how embarrassing.

To your dismay, the young man had noticed your burst of energy too quickly.

“You wanna dance? Come on!” His eyes gleamed with surprise and enthusiasm, and you honestly couldn’t blame him since all the boys had no idea about what activities you took part in outside of your writing.

“You know I can’t dance, silly,” You snorted, a fiery blush licking at your cheeks in discomfiture. Jimin smiled a knowing smile, completely used to your shyness by now and always ready to cheer you up.

“Let me teach you,” He murmured while pulling you closer to his body. You sighed, but decided to give in because you adored how attentive your boyfriend was to your feelings. Somehow he just knew you were itching to sway to the beat of the music.

Yeah, sway. That’s all they’ve seen me do, and that’s all they will see.

Well, that was what you told yourself, but it really was hard to contain your inner beast when this particular song was playing. You’d heard it so many times over the past week it was basically ingrained into your skull, and its lyrics could probably be found etched into some kind of surface there. Right there, in that jumbled mess of a mind.

“Just move like this, I’m right behind you,” Jimin purred once more. You were snapped out of your trance as you thought about what was happening. You forgot it was a slow and sexy type of vibe, but now you were solidly reminded as Jimin’s hands wound their way down your sides and hips. Suddenly your breathing shallowed as heated excitement took over a good portion of your thoughts.

The way Jimin was languidly following your movements with his own caused you to catch your lower lip between your teeth. His stage persona had come out to play, and he did not play nice apparently. You glimpsed into the mirror to watch how his eyes trailed your body, a body which was merely clad in sport shorts and a singlet thanks to how hot of a night it was outside.

“Now when the chorus starts, that’s when the girl lifts this leg,” Jimin continued in a low tone, fingers reaching the skin of your thigh and smoothing sinfully along the length of it. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you already knew what to do, but you also weren’t in the right mindset to do so. Instead, you were focused on the feeling of his body pressing against yours as you moved to the beat of the song.

You were lost in a haze as you snapped your head to the side, leaning lower to fit into the crook of his neck and gazing into his eyes with a half-lidded stare. It was all part of the choreography, but both of you seemed to forget that as the atmosphere completely swallowed you up.

“Then you…” Jimin began in a whisper, but trailed off into a breathy groan when you suddenly let your body roll once to the heavy bass. At this point your muscles were following the routine you’d memorised over and over again. Your arm reached up to curl around him until your fingertips were brushing against the hairs on the back of his neck.

The lust filtered away from Jimin’s features as surprise took over. He lifted his arm and felt his jaw drop slightly as you spun in exactly the right direction, body fluidly lowering and hips swinging in exactly the right way. It had only been a few beats, but you quickly regained control of yourself as you saw Jimin raising his brows in slight shock.

“Shit, I have to be home for…something,” You panted as you removed yourself from his somewhat sweaty body. You still felt the arousal from the dancing earlier on, but now you were too scared of embarrassing yourself in front of him to try and get any further. Plus nobody really wanted to fuck in a dancing studio.

Who cares if maybe I do just a little tiny bit?

“Wait, (Y/n)-noona do you have to go now?” Jimin shook his head sharply as if snapping out of his thoughts, a slight sadness clouding his once lively gaze. You felt guilty, but you had to get away before you lost control of your own limbs.

“Yeah, family want to call and everything,” You smiled through the pain of the lie, glad that he seemed to accept the story without question.

Well aren’t I just the most terrible person on this planet.

“O-Okay, but I don’t know what you mean by ‘can’t dance’. Just then I saw-”

“I really can’t, sorry for messing up,” You giggled, trying to make a joke of the situation. The boy looked a bit frustrated, but let you go without another word. Only leaning in for a short and sweet kiss as a farewell.

God, you loved him to bits, but you just couldn’t expose yourself yet. You were too petrified of what people would think once they found out about everything you did. You knew you were terrible for considering such things, but it was in your nature to overthink sometimes. Hoseok and Seokjin had begun to help you groove out those annoying habits, but everyone knew nothing changed overnight.

Things with your relationships went smoothly once more. You still had regular dinners and even special date nights that the boys had planned. It worked out with one member using one day of the week, if either party wanted to take the other out for the night they had to use that one specific day unless exceptions were made. This way, there were no clashes with plans and communication was easy and effective for everyone involved. Plus, the other guys could clear out for the night to allow for some ‘alone time’ for you and whoever you were with, either with or without the addition of others if you were feeling particularly wild.

The next little incidents happened without you even noticing, and you didn’t find out until much later down the track.

“Has anyone noticed how great (Y/n) is at singing?” Jungkook spoke while waiting for Yoongi to finally find a TV station to settle on. You suddenly froze in your motion of lifting a spoon to your waiting lips, soup forgotten as your eyes blew wide.

“Yeah, how could you not know? We’ve all caught little snippets of it,” Hoseok tutted, smoothly swinging his body around to plop onto the couch beside everyone else. You were the only one seated at the table instead, and the fact that they were speaking as if you weren’t there unnerved you slightly.

“I heard her one day when she thought she was alone because she had headphones in, but it was really quiet,” Taehyung announced, amused eyes sliding over to your direction in a subtle tease.

“Hey! Why did no-one mention this?” You whined and accidently let your spoon fall into your bowl noisily. They all chuckled as you swore and shook some droplets of hot soup from your fingers.

“It’s not that big of a deal. Unless you’re hiding something,” Jimin piped in from the other couch. One eyebrow of his was cocked knowingly, and you narrowed your eyes in suspicion when his smirk grew wider.

“What do you mean Jimin-ah?” Seokjin’s eyes flickered from face to face as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“Yeah, I only meant to say something but now you’ve made it weird,” Jungkook hummed, finally tearing his attention away from the changing television channels.

“It’s not weird,” Jimin responded, taking note of your slightly scared expression. None of them wanted to make you uncomfortable, but you’d known them for a while now so it wasn’t a shock to discover they enjoyed making you squirm from time to time. Little shits, they are.

“I just have reason to believe there’s more to our (Y/n) than she lets on.”

The room fell silent as you slurped your soup obnoxiously, relieved that you weren’t feeling as perturbed as you probably would have a year ago. You were content with letting them speculate for a while. You’d most likely even find some childish enjoyment in letting them make fools of themselves.

Yeah, because they’re not finding out shit.

“That she can sing really well? I don’t get it,” Yoongi grumbled without taking his eyes from the remote control in his hands. Obviously he was a little curious too, but he chose to not dwell on the matter.

“And dan-”

“I can’t even! I think you guys are buttering me up a bit here,” You cut Jimin off hurriedly, a nervous laugh ripping from you as you gulped down the last dregs of your meal. The boys now all focused on you as you moved to deposit your dishes in the sink conspicuously.

“Okay, she’s suspicious,” Taehyung agreed with his hyung. The vocalist pursed his lips and you whirled around to see every single one of them eyeing you in interest. The only reason you weren’t feeling uncomfortable or pressured was because they were all doing it with smiles or smirks plastered on their faces.

“What do you want from me?” You huffed, hands finding your hips in a feign show of irritation.

“Sing for us?” Jungkook grinned cheekily.

“Come here and we’ll show the boys the routine you helped me with,” Jimin quipped with a lazily extended hand.

“Wait…now that I think about it, you paint too don’t you?” Taehyung gasped.

Now you were feeling the apprehension, but surprisingly you didn’t hate it. They were so close to finding out everything, but without the much needed proof their endeavours were fruitless in the end.

“Have you been hiding stuff from us jagi?” Seokjin’s eyes twinkled mischievously. He was just as eager as the others to pry something juicy from you. Hoseok and Yoongi were exchanging whispers, which made you wonder if they were trying to formulate some sort of plan. Namjoon had observed without a word so far, but even he wouldn’t help you now. You could clearly see how the rapper was watching you with an intensely probing stare and the slight quirk of his lips made his amusement evident.

“Not at all. I’m not hiding,” You stated confidently.

You were sure of your words, because honestly you weren’t trying to hide away. You just chose not to outwardly express your talents. You were refraining from showcasing yourself. Well, that was what you told yourself, but you couldn’t deny you were being a bit of a coward by running away from it all.

“Show us something babe,” Taehyung got to his feet with hands held open towards you comfortingly. You smirked as you watched all their curious stares flick back between the two of you eagerly.

“Sorry,” You coughed dryly, “I think I’ve come down with something!”

You chuckled to yourself as you made your way to the door of the dormitory, ignoring their calls of protest and blowing a kiss to where they were all scrambling to their feet in the lounge area.

“I’ll see you later my loves,” Was what you left them with before dashing away from the door. You were trembling with laughter and glee at your new discovery. The discovery of how enjoyable it was to tease them for a change.

“Um, so are we gonna spy on her or what?” Taehyung cleared his throat purposefully, eyebrows raised as if daring someone to challenge him.

“What? No! Are you insane?” Seokjin hissed.

“Yeah, that would be too much of an invasion of privacy. Tae, we of all people should know about that,” Everyone watched as Namjoon shook his head and sighed. The same things were running through all seven minds.

“Surely watching from the sidelines would be harmless. How else are we going to see her talents?” Hoseok pouted slightly, brows creased in deep thought.

“There’s no way she’ll open up unless we do something.”

“Have you guys ever thought maybe letting her feel comfortable enough to show us is a perfectly good method?” Yoongi drawled, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“I’ll install my camera somewhere in her house…”

“Good plan bro, oh the bedroom sounds nice doesn’t it…”

“You guys are so bad, but I’m definitely in…”

Yoongi could only sigh in defeat at the mutterings of the youngest members. This whole thing was clearly a joke and banter, but the eldest rapper felt his mind being annoyingly occupied. He wanted you to trust him enough to show him naturally, but even he knew that wasn’t really going to happen without some form of intervention.

“Be quiet, let’s just talk to her like normal human beings. We know she’s shy,” Seokjin spoke; a voice of reason amongst the chaos.

The boys agreed, seeing that it was the most logical option provided so far. They loved you too much to force you into it, but maybe if they were kind and mature about it they would make some progress.

Or so they had thought.

What they hadn’t expected was the truth to smack them right in the nose on one second eventful night.

“She would’ve forgotten!”

“No way, girls remember anniversaries and stuff, don’t you know anything hyung?” Jungkook clicked his tongue.

The boys chuckled as Seokjin blinked in shock, not expecting the sudden snap from their youngest member. Obviously it was a joke, but the group always found humour in teasing. Especially when they were as nervous as they were currently.

“We’re the ones surprising her anyway, don’t be shocked if she’s a bit spooked,” Hoseok warned with a tinge of amusement lightening his tone.

It had been a year since you’re polyamorous relationship had set sail, and all eight of you were the happiest group of people alive. Yes, you all had your ups and downs with them being idols and you being a shy author, but everything had worked so well and you had each found some sense of belonging together as one item.

The thing was…

You hadn’t forgotten at all, but the boys didn’t let you know of any plans they had. You’d tried asking subtlety a few days ago, but Namjoon had avoided the question as if it was a plague while the others pretended not to hear. You were confused and very irritated to say the least.

Did this mean they didn’t want to celebrate it? You’d stopped mentioning it after that because you didn’t want to impose too much, but now you were cursing your reluctant nature. You needed to step up your game and have some say for once!

I will. Later I’ll crash their dorms and interrupt their night for a surprise celebration. I’ll even bring food!

You smiled at the weirdly evil sounding plan, but the annoyance still came crashing into you at the thought of them not caring enough to warrant any kind of acknowledgement for the special day. You had to release your inner frustration somehow.

Outside, the boys took their final breaths of anticipation before knocking on your door. Yoongi held a bunch of beautiful pale lilies while Taehyung grasped an expensive and decorative box of Belgian chocolates. Jimin and Seokjin both held little wrapped boxes which contained gifts of precious jewellery, and Jungkook and Hoseok had the scented cards which contained every heartfelt message the seven of them could think of.

When no-one answered, they exchanged looks of confusion and dread.

“Is she out?” Jungkook pondered. Jimin widened his eyes in sorrow and regret as he thought of you making plans by yourself, possibly believing they had forgotten the significance of the day.

“This is why we shouldn’t do surprises!”

“No, she would let us know. She’s not that quick to assume and act like that,” Yoongi furrowed his brows.

The others nodded in agreement and Namjoon reached out tentatively towards the door handle. Their suspicions were confirmed as the door swung open widely, letting them know that you were home and safe.

“This is kind of reminding me about that ‘breach of privacy’ you mentioned?” Taehyung quipped with a cheeky smile before following the rest inside. Namjoon only graced him with an eye roll.

“(Y/n)? Sorry for the intrusion!” Seokjin called, not really knowing why he and the others were bowing slightly. They were used to your personality and antics, so this seemed a bit overboard but what could they do when they were trying to please you with a surprise? They didn’t want to ruin all their hard work.

“She probably thought we didn’t care, so she’s ignoring us,” Jungkook muttered, not really liking the familiar house being as silent as it was.

“Wait,” Hoseok held up a finger.

Maybe not so silent.

The boys left the gifts and flowers on the nearby bench to investigate the soft sound of music coming from a set of stairs leading downwards. The catchy bass grew louder as they gathered at the foot of the staircase, yet more looks were exchanged.

“How come we never noticed this? Has this always been here?” Jimin breathed in awe as he craned his neck to see further down.

“I think so. We just never asked,” Namjoon hummed.

They were reluctant to head down, but the curiosity was too overwhelming of an urge to ignore. They filed down the stairs despite the sheer amount of people in their group. Luckily for them, there was another small hallway before they were met with a shiny glass door. It was the door to your studio.

“No fucking way,” Taehyung murmured, and earned a slap from Seokjin.

Seven pairs of eyes observed the large warehouse-like room that you’d craftily kept hidden from them right underneath your home. There was a large open floor space on one half with a floor-length mirror, but on the other side there were all kinds of artistic trinkets and equipment gathered to look like a small workshop. There were shelves of supplies and even a large safe installed into the far wall. The room was magnificent and obviously worn down with years of use.

They observed your form standing in front of an easel, wrist flicking snappily as you unleashed your emotions onto the poor canvas. Some couldn’t help gasping as they saw the amazingly vibrant and abstract artwork you’d created so far. Taehyung felt his feet itching to rush inside and question you, or praise you, or anything at all. You were absolutely breathtaking, and you were an enigma that they had all struggled over for so long. Now you were being read out to them.

Then everything drew to a halt as they heard the music change.

“Hey, this is the dance routine I was talking about,” Jimin inhaled sharply, wanting to burst with excitement but trying to avoid getting scolded by his elders at the same time.

“Look at her go!” Hoseok brought his hands up to cover his mouth in shock as you moved away from the paints. The loud music filled the room as you drifted to the practice space, the song not even giving you a chance to protest as you let your anger fuel your movements.

You looked into the mirror wistfully as the silent beats leading up to the chorus sounded. Your fingers were splashed with an assortment of colours, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care while you unpinned your hair from its clip and let it cascade over your shoulders.

“She’s beautiful,” Namjoon slipped before clearing his throat. The boys chuckled to themselves, but they all agreed without argument that you were the most entrancing thing they had ever seen when you began dancing.

Your hips moved along with your arms. Your eyes glazed over with emotion as you flew through the racy choreography as if it were nothing at all, fingers raking through your hair and your body gyrating as if living the moment. The boys couldn’t tear their gazes away as they watched your performance, not even being able to question how you’d possibly done it all while dressed as casually as you were.

They were rendered speechless as your lips suddenly parted for the female’s first lines. Your loud, raspy growl of a voice pricked at their ears and they held their breaths in absolute wonderment. The maturity and soulfulness of your voice swept them off their feet as you belted out the clearest note you’d ever actually managed.

Then came the male’s part. The rap.

“There’s no way this is happening right? This is real?” Seokjin stuttered, being the first to break the tensed silence out in the airy hallway with bulging eyes. Everyone felt as if they’d been jerked out of some kind of lusty daydream, but they were all brought careening back as your voice reached out to them again.

“She’s rapping!”

“What…”

Their gasps died away as your tongue spat syllables at a speed they couldn’t even imagine. There’s no way they would’ve been able to expect this hard-hitting rap from someone like you, it just wasn’t fathomable at this point. You took deep breaths but finished off the verse flawlessly, taking the time to press your palms to the mirror and glare at yourself dangerously before snapping out of the haze. The song changed and you smoothed your hair back, finally letting your lips quirk into a proud smile due to perfecting the routine yet again.

“Someone tell me why my eyes are leaking,” Yoongi choked as he moved away from the window suddenly. Everything you had just done…he couldn’t believe what his eyes and ears had revealed to him. It was something he rarely saw because just then, you were so full of energy and spirit. He just wanted to run inside, kiss you passionately and tell you exactly how well you were doing. How seeing what he had just seen had deepened the love contained within his heart for you, knowing the time and effort you put into everything you did was so heartbreakingly relatable. He just hated the fact that letting you know would absolutely humiliate you, and it wasn’t just him who felt that way.

They all wanted to shower you with their adoration and respect, but this wasn’t right.

“I think we can all feel how serious this is,” Namjoon breathed in an awed tone, eyes glimmering with emotion as he backed away from the door. The others followed without a word as they made their way back up the stairs.

“I don’t want to hide things from her, but I think this really is something she’s coming to terms with herself, her own confidence,” Jimin said, still breathless and in shock. The few seconds he had witnessed in the practice room ages ago was nothing compared to this.

“We’ll let her come out of her shell when she’s ready, it’s the right thing to do,” Taehyung suggested meekly. The boys stood like stones in the main living room as they contemplated how to go about it all.

“A little nudge is all she needs,” Seokjin spoke, breaking the tension with a warm smile.

“Let’s help her get there.”

——————

Hope you liked this request. Feel free to leave any feedback, as I’m working hard to start writing better. Go check out my ao3 for more stuff! I appreciate everyone who gives it a go.

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longlivefeedback · 6 years

Note

hey! so, i'm sure this is something that's been discussed, but i can't find any discourse on your blog. i'm a fic writer and NOTHING annoys me more than the "don't say anything negative" attitude toward fanfiction. if someone leaves a comment that says "i loved your fic but i'm curious as to why character didn't do [x] since it seems a little inconsistent..." or "loved it! just wanted to point out a couple small inaccuracies that most people won't notice but since i work in this field..." (1/?)

it shows me that the commentor was paying attention and thinking about my writing, and isn’t that the ENTIRE point of posting your writing online? i’ve run across quite a few writers who will criticise any criticism or less-than-effusive comments, and it just really, really annoys me. the main reason i think is bc i legitimately LOVE fanfiction—it’s my preferred thing to write/read over original fiction bc it allows me to focus on just exploring the characters since people are already(2/?)

familiar with them/the canon verse. it’s why i hate that it isn’t taken as seriously as original fic, and i really think this culture of “don’t engage unless you only have good things to say” is one of the reasons it just isn’t taken seriously. ofc, not saying that you should just point out all the flaws, but some polite, helpful concrit or probing questions in addition to praise?? makes me really happy tbh. idk maybe i just take it too seriously but (¾)

it REALLY bothers me, and so i wanted to read some debate on this matter from both sides — not just writers, not just readers. this my extremely long-winded way of asking: do you guys have any posts like this?? (4/4)

LLF response: Hi Anon! We do have some posts about commenting culture and a brief guide to supporting authors, as well as reblogs on a guide to reviews and an overview of fandom commenting. Assuming you’ve looked through those posts, the reason why you cannot find anything that addresses your specific concern (i.e. questions in comments bringing up inconsistencies or trying to understand why a character appears to be acting OOC) is probably because LLF has been primarily concerned with broad structural changes and feedback initiatives thus far and the topic you raise, while valid and important to feedback culture, is a bit too nuanced for the current focus of this blog.That being said, I think that your ask brings up some interesting assumptions and perceptions that are critical for fandom health and which I can give my personal opinion on under the jump.

Full disclaimer, the following is my (mod dragonling’s) personal opinion and interpretation of the ask.

1. i’m a fic writer and NOTHING annoys me more than the “don’t say anything negative” attitude toward fanfiction.

This to me is indicative of differing expectations for fandom. Let’s say that instead of fic writing, we’re all chefs (or people who make food) here. We each make a dish and now we want to share it with the world. Do you (A) take it to your friend’s house where they are holding a potluck celebration; (B) set up a stall at the state fair; or © enter it into a cooking/baking competition ala Chopped where 5 star judges and food critics will sample your food? Depending on where you take you food, you would expect very different reactions.

Generally speaking, you would probably want your friends at the potluck to thank you for bringing something and compliment you for how delicious your dish is. If you were still fine tuning your recipe, you could let them know and maybe they would be able to say one or two things they liked or didn’t like about it which you would file away for the evening, to be looked at for the next time you made something.

However, if you were at a state fair, even getting your dish looked at by the crowds of people milling around would be an achievement. If someone bought some of your food, that would be fantastic! If they bought it, took a bite, and then told you how tasty it was, even better! Those people that bought your food, went away, and then came back to tell you how much they enjoyed it or came back to buy some more and brought all their friends with them are heaven sent angels. You probably wouldn’t expect anyone to say anything negative about your food because even if you were still fine tuning the recipe, a state fair is neither the time or place where any sort of meaningful culinary discussion can really take place on a consistent basis.

The situation would be different if you were at a cooking competition. There, you would expect these food experts to pick apart your food. Maybe not steamroll and chew you out ala Gordon Ramsey, but even then if that’s what you were expecting and the kind of feedback you respond best to, then sign up for a competition he is judging at. Perhaps you don’t want to just be yelled at, but would actually like to be coached, then maybe enter a competition with more of a mentoring element versus cutthroat competition.

This all really boils down to knowing who your audience is and your expectations for them. I would say that posting to ao3 is closest to the state fair, and is why the “don’t say anything negative” attitude is perfectly acceptable and even encouraged. The fact that this annoys you indicates that there is some disconnect between what you really want and where you’re going in order to get it. I think that we can all agree that going to the state fair and expecting Gordon Ramsey to show up and tell you why your dish sucks is just…not going to happen. Even more, it’s something that shouldn’t happen. What if you were at the state fair to raise money for charity? No well meaning person is going to tell you that your food sucks and that you should do better and if they do, they don’t mean you well.

So, rather than get hung up on the “don’t say anything negative” attitude in fandom (which, I may add, is there and has been cultivated for a reason), take another look at your audience and your expectations. If you want criticism that is helpful and of good quality, go to an editor or join a writing group. If you want to give criticism, find someone to beta for where you can cultivate a relationship that is mutually beneficial. Don’t be a Gordon Ramsey walking around at the charity fair of home baked goods giving tips to the local families trying to raise funds to repair their schools. Be conscious of the fact that people write for different reasons, and that while some may be okay with great advice being shouted at them, for others, it is a nightmare. Be kind and don’t show up at the wrong party.

2. “i loved your fic but i’m curious as to why character didn’t do [x] since it seems a little inconsistent…” or “loved it! just wanted to point out a couple small inaccuracies that most people won’t notice but since i work in this field…”

I understand where you’re coming from, Anon, and the two examples you mentioned evoke an important point of why it is so difficult to give criticism online. Your questions attempt to illustrate how one might leave a comment that shows that the reader was paying attention and thinking about your writing, and from your ask, I can only assume that you would be thrilled to personally receive either of those comments. To assume that others would be similarly thrilled, however, is fallacious and a dangerous assumption. What works for you, may be hurtful to others. You pointing out “a couple [of] small inaccuracies” may be you being genuinely helpful, but to the author, it may come off as a reader assuming that they didn’t do their research, a reader being a know-it-all, or a reader missing the forest for the trees, especially if this is your one and only comment in a long multi-chaptered work.

Of course, things get even more nuanced when we consider context. Your comment about inaccuracies may be the best thing ever if the author specifically asked for guidance on this matter, or if you have a long standing relationship with this author and somehow commenting in ao3 is the way you beta for each other, or maybe this small inaccuracy is actually a big inaccuracy and you’re just trying to be super tactful about it… I could go on an on and on about it, but how you say things is often just as important as what you say, and in writing, where we do not have the benefit of verbal and visual cues, expressing what you mean becomes even more complicated.

Which is another reason why “don’t say anything negative” is the default. It’s harder to ruin someone’s day with only positive statements, especially when you don’t have the time or platform to really explain yourself and have a meaningful conversation with the author. This Anon’s view on concrit is worth pondering. If you don’t understand or agree with this sentiment, then the conversation we should be having is not “why doesn’t anyone leave concrit” but rather “what is concrit?”

3. i’ve run across quite a few writers who will criticise any criticism or less-than-effusive comments, and it just really, really annoys me.

Going back to expectations and audiences; remember which party you’re going to. Also, what may seem like just a less-than-effusive comment to you, an outsider who stumbled upon this one comment thread, may actually be a long antagonistic war of words between author and commenter spanning many years, fandoms, and fics. I don’t know. It could happen. Maybe you just have a higher tolerance of trolls and criticism than the rest of us.

It’s certainly happened to me and Rose here on the LLF blog. Either we read the same ask differently or just have different reactions and ways of responding to things that tick us off. Even if we have a shared goal and have known each other for awhile, we’re both different people. It’s not reasonable for me to try to change Rose’s responses to match my own exactly. Just because you care about fanfiction so much doesn’t mean that everyone else does or should as well. If this is something that really truly annoys you and you are trying to see both sides of this issue, I think that you’re on the right track and want to encourage you to keep learning and thinking about it.

4. it isn’t taken as seriously as original fic, i really think this culture of “don’t engage unless you only have good things to say” is one of the reasons it just isn’t taken seriously.

I am not a literary expert, and cannot really opine on how fanfiction is viewed by traditional literature or whether a fantasy AU is better/worse than a published fantasy book or how they relate to the writings of Homer. I also am not sure what you mean by fanfiction not being taken “as seriously as original fic.” Certainly you take it seriously. I take it seriously enough to spend my free time on it, and I take fandom seriously enough that I am spending time I could be using to write fanfiction to help run this blog. If you mean that publishing houses will not pay any attention to a fanfiction story, I would agree because why would they? Fanfiction is, by definition, derived from original fiction. Publishing houses are after new and original content because copyright is a real thing.

Even then, let’s look at Fifty Shades of Grey. It’s Twilight fan fiction. Is it taken more seriously than Twilight? Why or why not? How does it compare to Harry Potter, or Pride or Prejudice? Reading and writing are such personal experiences that I hesitate to say that one piece of writing is inherently better than the other. Hence, I do not think that fan fiction’s audience who “don’t engage unless you only have good things to say” is a problem. To me, that’s like saying “anime isn’t as good as non-anime cartoons because people who watch anime don’t speak English.”

5. not saying that you should just point out all the flaws, but some polite, helpful concrit or probing questions in addition to praise…

Yes, agreed; and if this is what the author has asked for, please go ahead! However, please also remember that not everyone knows how to ask probing questions, give helpful concrit, or even be polite. Sometimes, they aren’t even trying to be rude. It just comes off as such. Maybe the commenter is having a bad day and can’t word right. Maybe the author is having a bad day and can’t read anything without their own personal negative bias clouding their perceptions.

It’s one of the things that we are trying to address at LLF so that these barriers are lower. It’s one of the reasons why some things (native comment templates) just will not work for AO3, because tone is hard to convey, nevermind that your audience probably numbers in the millions, each with their own personal biases and understanding of language. We know that even with giving kudos, people mean different things. Think about how difficult it is to convey sarcasm in writing. AO3 already receives flack for their kudos message, which is the way it is because can you come up with something better that will not tick off anyone? Maybe people want to be polite, maybe they want to be helpful, maybe they just don’t know how. We’re trying to change that and trying to give people the tools to help them comment: LLF Comment Builder, LLF Comment Project, in-line commenting (these tools are mostly focused on how to give positive comments because from the feedback we’ve gotten, people have a hard enough time doing that as is.)

But hey, if you want something for concrit or how to ask probing questions, don’t wait for us. Look up a good guide and reblog it. Encourage your followers to ask you questions about your writing. Write your own guide to commenting. Go. Be the change you want to see.

6. do you guys have any posts like this

So, after all that, LLF may not be the blog for you if you are interested in hearing as many opinions as possible about this topic. However, I would highly encourage you to check out @ao3commentoftheday, which has already hosted quite a few asks about this:

sometimes-i-dont-comment-because-im-a

actually-i-have-a-question-about-commenting

do-writers-like-constructive-criticism-in-reviews

about-the-leaving-only-glowing-praise-comments

about-concrit-i-dont-explicitly-discourage-it

its-not-about-wanting-concrit-its-about-wanting

1-with-concrit-i-think-the-question-is-not

Don’t forget to check the notes on those threads!

#llf asks #longlivefeedback #concrit

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lesceriises · 4 years

Photo

—— ELISEU

CHARACTER AVAILABLE?: YES PINTEREST AVAILABLE?: YES FULL BIO AVAILABLE: YES but it’s pretty much all of it here but his full bio is available per request because i don’t think anyone cares about his married life in an indie blog lmao

IDENTITY

FULL NAME: eliseu augusto alvarez

AGE: verse dependent

GENDER IDENTITY: male, him/he

SEXUAL IDENTITY: bisexual

HEAVENLY VIRTUE: diligence

DEADLY SIN: gluttony

IDENTIFYING TRAITS:

optimist, relentless, obsessive, good with numbers, abrasive, argumentative, workaholic, thinker, excellent brainstormer, charismatic, manipulative, reliable, enjoys creating order but can be very disorganized when it comes to his own space, superficially sociable, has difficulty expressing his emotion, covers up his true feelings either by working hard or with jokes and laughter, needs to sleep more, resilient, generous, disciplined, likes routine, confident but the inferiority complex strikes when he's around extremely successful people from wealthy backgrounds, chronically incapable of backing down from a challenge where he gets to either prove himself or prove that he’s right,

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:

a couple scars from his youth, wears glasses to read

HABITS:

reads every day before going to bed, drinks copious amounts of black tea and coffee, always carries at least two pens with him

HOBBIES:

avid reader, likes to draw in his spare time, plays the piano (not perfectly though), playing any kind of sport with his mates or kids, enjoys cooking when he has the patience/time

PET PEEVES:

people touching his work papers, people touching his desk in general, when people can't keep up with his train if thought, elitists

SELF-ESTEEM: 5 externally 4 internally

OCCUPATION: verse dependent

OTHER DEVELOPED VERSES: asoiaf, harry potter, historical

APPEARANCE

HEIGHT: ‎5 feet 9 inches (1.75 m)

HAIR & EYE COLOR: brown & brown

SENSE OF STYLE: decent albeit he's not a naturally fashionable person. his style - particularly as an adult - comes from copying those around him.

FACE CLAIM: tommy martinez, raul esparza, probably others idk

RELATIONSHIPS

PARENTS:

lucrecia alvarez anselmo alvarez

SIBLINGS:

timoteo (brother) marisa (sister, deceased) lizzie (half-sister)

OTHER NOTABLE FAMILY:

alice pattison (foster mother, deceased) alex pattison (foster brother, deceased)

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: verse dependent: single, engaged, married, divorced, widower.

CHILDREN: extremely verse dependent. for the sake of practicality usually none. there’s a verse where he had a daughter when he was 19-22. in the verse where he’s married he has 12 which sounds absolutely insane but here’s the explanation: two are adopted (he took them in after his foster brother died), three are fostered, two died very young, and one died at 20.

BASIC BIO

in february 1962 lucrecia and anselmo alvarez find out they are expecting their first child.

in may they decide to leave the only home they’ve ever known for what they know might be for good.

the imprisonment and death of relatives and friends and three years later, the couple and their two small children finally make their way across the ocean to settle in whitby. his father becomes a fisherman and his mother (later on) a cleaner.

eliseu is three years old when he sets foot in england. he doesn’t remember much of home and the things he does remember aren’t very happy ones - disorder, the sound of gunfire, crying. timoteo is five and it takes eliseu longer than he likes to admit that his older brother might remember a whole lot more than he does, and worse, that it might actually have a negative effect on him. eliseu's vague memories tell him two things and two things alone: his parents got lucky and he’ll never rely on luck, and that he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

- - -

his father leaves twice. once shortly after they arrive, and the second when eliseu is seven with a woman. both times, he ended up returning within a year.

his mother leaves when he’s twelve, she never returns. she drops him and his siblings off at the pattison’s and eliseu and timoteo quickly run outside into the street with the neighbour’s children. they play by the harbor, and return at dusk ready to get their ears chewed off (almost proudly so), but instead they’re greeted by an unsettling quietness.

his father finds someone else quick enough - someone to ”watch the boys”, but when his father dies in a fishing accident two years later his step-mother leaves as well. the neighbour’s couple, who have watched them grow since they were children, decides to take them in. it was an easy choice to make really, the boys are always around and close with their own son anyway.

timoteo handles their mother’s abandonment and father’s death with understandable acts of anger and rebellion.

but he was never good at handling pain anyway.

eliseu, always more positive and worse at expressing his deep personal feelings, sees it as just another kind of callus - a psychological one - something that helps built resistance and muffle blows.

he tells himself the only way is forward.

(he doesn’t mourn his father, he doesn’t weep when his mother leaves, but he does grieve when alice pattison succumbs to pneumonia - she always felt more of a mother to him than his own.)

- - -

bruised knuckles and busted lips aren’t foreign to eliseu.

the first time he gets into a fist fight he’s 9 years old, in the middle of the street, running up to the boy pushing his brother, body launched forward like a bullet.

he did it partly to defend his kin, partly to assert himself.

that’s the thing about being dirt poor in a shit neighborhood; if you don’t stick together and stand up for yourself, you’re as good as dead, and eliseu... well, eliseu has always been the kind of boy that would rather be taken unconscious to the closest hospital than to let his fists down.

- - -

he's thankful for his foster family. he feels weird calling them that even if that's what they are, they feel more like family, just family, and he's thankful for them, but even if they hadn't taken him (and his siblings, of course, although his foster brother sometimes feels more like his biological one than his own) in, eliseu would have found a way to make it. any way. his grades are spectacular, above average, and he knows very well how to play his story in his favour. he can never bring himself to make it sound like he's a victim, no, there's no room for pity. he's a smart kid, who's fighting tooth and nail to be more than his background, to be more than the chances he's given.

it's half god's honest true, half good marketing.

the kick of it is doesn't even recognize that what he's doing is marketing, it's all coming straight from the heart.

and it gets him into one of the best school's in the world.

- - -

oxford is a new world. he finds it all both pathetic and oddly inviting. the truth is, he likes to be part of the elite, but he likes it on his own terms, having come from where he did. it gives him a sense of superiority, like he deserves to be there more than most of his peers. even with a shit background and no trust fund he’s accomplished more than they have - he knows it, they know it, and if they don’t they’ll eventually find out. eliseu has no intention of hiding.

he’s not worried about keeping up with the course work. perhaps he should be, but his self-confidence doesn’t let him. he’s come this far, he knows his worth.

- - -

they shake hands at the end and he can feel the other squeeze his hand in a way that nearly makes a laugh fall from his lips as pride swells in his chest. eliseu could say he didn’t mean to humiliate the boy in their mock debate, but that’d only be partially true. a very small partially. like, 10% partially.

somehow he knows, not that deep down, that this moment will at some point come back to bite him in the ass.

and rich boys don’t like to wait around.

two days later, they’re forced out of the pub for causing a row, but the argument doesn’t cease. there’s four of them and one of him (well, technically two, but he would never ask his foster brother, who is just visiting, to step in).

it’s not the three pints he had earlier that make him feel relaxed about his current situation, it’s that he’s looking at skinny boys that probably came here straight from eton or jumped straight out of a burberry back-to-school ad, and he’s gone face to face with tobacco chewing scoundrels who worked in the docks on the weekends to make extra cash.

one of them comes a little too close but eliseu doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even budge or look bothered. before he can suggest them doing this another evening because he has class early in the morning, his face is violently pushed to the left. the punch wasn’t too painful - it hit him close to the eye and those never are - but it was jarring just the same, and eliseu needs to learn against the closest brick wall for a moment.

then a smirk spreads across his lips, it’s not cocky but involuntary, as a memory comes to him. the taste of blood lingers in his mouth like an old friend saying hello, welcome home.

he lurches forward.

rich people think they can get away with anything, but this is a battle that I-drink-dom-pérignon-at-breakfast twat didn’t win. correction, his daddy couldn’t win it for him.

eliseu is almost expelled but professors vouch for him. the other boy did throw some punches too, after all.

he gets lucky.

(and he hates it - he hates that he has relied on luck, he hates to be hated but there's something about being hated by posh people, even the ones he wants to impress, that makes him thrive off of it.)

- - -

he doesn't see it as betrayal.

it should have been xavier's son to become his protegé, that's the way things ought to go, but he's taken a liking to eliseu, the head-strong friend (a little more than a friend at times, perhaps) of his son that often spends time at their grand house.

rick has never been like the rest of them. eliseu doesn't know exactly what happened in his past (something about his mother, he told him once without going into detail) but he knows it has made him despise the world he grew up in. he doesn't think rick took a liking to him because it would piss off his family, he's not that kind of person, but if it had it had the opposite effect.

he doesn't see it as betrayal, but rick still goes on a bender, crashing his porshe against a bakery at 3am not a minute after he started the car. eliseu stands back across the street but he can still hear him say "you're worse than the lot of them." while lighting a cigarette as he forced the door of the car open with his feet, a bloody cut on his forehead.

it only makes xavier like his son less and eliseu more.

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jessi-31days-blog · 7 years

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Day 4, Wednesday, October 4th

Before I get into this blog, I have to mention something. I had gone through my day and written everything down, having completed half the activities, AND THEN MY NOTES APP CRASHES AND DELETES EVERYTHING. My memory is awful, and I was already in such a crippling low mood before that, so this was the icing on the shit cake. So I'm going to do my best to recall everything I wrote, but this just sucks. ---

I wake up at 9:15 am, before my alarm which I set for 10:30 am.

I set my alarm around 2 am before putting my phone down to go to sleep. So I figured my body would want to sleep in until 10:30 am, but I guess not.

Pranayama Yoga to Move Energy - loljk, still a paid only video

Yoga class - "Yoga to Make You Happy, Relaxing Beginners Routine for Stress & Depression" by Lori Austin from PsycheTruth on Youtube:

I loved this video. As Lori went through every position, she explained how each position benefits your mental health. A couple of the positions were downward dog and that one where you're on your knees and your forehead is on the mat. I felt energized and refreshed after this video.

Guided meditation - "Turn it off" - 21 mins:

The day 4 of the DoYogaWith me program provided the same meditation as day 1. It was again hard for me to focus, but I made it through the whole meditation and did my best to listen and relax. I tried to let go of negative thoughts and beliefs. I honed in on some tension in my neck as the instructor said to imagine the tension being released. I don't know if anything really changed, but by the end of this meditation I did feel at least a little bit more relaxed.

Read a Proverb - Proverbs 4:

This chapter again reiterates the importance of valuing wisdom. Just like yesterday's proverb, this one has another popular bible verse. It's verse 23: "Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life." I basically see this as I need to guard myself from allowing negative thoughts and behaviors into my life, and my ability to do that will determine how my life will go. In a sense, that's what I've been trying to do more often, starting with my idea to give myself a 31 day challenge. I hope at some point I actually get good at doing this.

Note: It was at this point earlier today, after I finished writing my thoughts on the proverb, that my notes app on my computer crashed and I lost all I had written today. I took a break for 3 hours, cooked, went for a long walk, then came back and made some tea. Now on to read the blog.

Blog post - AnxietyGuru.net - "Here’s How to Increase Self-Knowledge and Lower Anxiety at the Same Time" by Paul Dooley:

As you may have noticed, I picked a different blog to read an article from. It may not be a very long article, but honestly I don't have it in me to read every single word and try to process all of it, so I'm gonna skim through and talk about a few of the bolded points that spoke to me. That's the best I can do tonight, my apologies.

The first thing that stood out to me was the idea of looking for patterns in my behavior or thinking process that can help me understand how my feelings drive what I think and do. I thought about my actions for a minute. What came to mind were two things: my fear of rejection and my inability to successfully cope with pain. My fear of rejection makes me mistrust my friends and have a general distaste for humanity. I used to say about myself that I was a lover of people, and I really, really meant that. But I don't know how much, if at all, I mean that thought anymore. You wouldn't believe what runs through my head as I scroll through Facebook. And getting into politics hasn't helped my case either. It's really not that I have some sense of superiority, I know that my political views are not gospel and are always subject to change. But it is truly disheartening of my world view to be someone who has for the past 6 months have been browsing and using the internet almost constantly for 6 months, namely Youtube and Reddit, and has had the chance to pay better attention to what the various kinds of of people in this world, more specifically the people in my country of USA, actually believe; about the current state of this country and the world. Half of what people perceive as problems are more often than not a completely fabricated problem that was certainly not an issue when I was growing up. If you do some research through some reputable sources, you'll see what the actual problems are and how not taken care of they are. And not everyone has time to do this. All most people have time for is for what the media tells them, and the media fucking lies about nearly everything to some extent, so a lot of people aren't getting the real picture. I have had so much time on my hands for the past 6 months and I have been quickly moving from one side of the political spectrum to the center, then I just completely abandoned the political spectrum for the most part. I don't know what I am, but I do try to be as much of an educated realist as possible. God I don't want to sound arrogant. If I do, feel free to let me know. What I'm trying to say here is that my worldview has darkened, so that fuels my fear of rejection in some ways. And then my inability to successfully cope with pain fuels my insatiable lust for whiskey, a dragon I've dealt with for a while that, for the most part, I've been able to keep the dragon away for at least 4 days of my weeks. But I want to learn how to enjoy life like normal people do; without excessive alcohol use. I don't know how to enjoy a bubble bath for fuck's sake. Why? Bubble baths don't get you drunk. Yes, that's really my actual reason for not enjoying one of the most relaxing activities a person can do. Everyone loves bubble baths. You're weird if you don't like bubble baths, or at the very least a hot shower with your favorite soaps. So by eliminating alcohol I'm trying to find ways to enjoy the simple things in life like normal mentally healthy people do.

I've written so much in response to just this single point in the article, so I think that's all I'm gonna say about this one. I didn't really do it justice, so if you want to read it yourself, you can find it on anxietyguru.com.

Encourage someone on Reddit - r/depression:

I just want to say something first. I know that I encouraged someone on this subreddit the other day, but I want to make something very clear. If you have depression and use reddit, don't go to this sub expecting answers. If you share your feelings and someone gives you the answer you need, awesome. But most people here ask a lot of those "does anyone else" questions and in a lot of ways aren't actually looking for help, but for other people to be miserable with them. I'm not saying that's the entire subreddit, and I'm in no way condemning r/depression. But if you really need support, try r/suicidewatch, r/mentalhealth, r/anxiety, r/depressionregimens, or r/DecidingToBebetter.

Anyways, on to the post I found. An reddit user was asking for advice about how to help her friend, who has depression and is going through a break up and an overall tough time. Their friend's ex and the ex's new girlfriend have each called this friend "fat cow" on different occasions, and the friend sees the new girlfriend at a cafe the friend frequents. They mentioned how the medication that their friend is taking doesn't seem to work for her and that she's really insecure about her looks, wanting to be "skinny and pretty".

Being someone with depression and having gone through being told and called some awful things in my lifetime, I thought about what I needed from my friends during that time (regardless of whether I actually got it or not).

I'm just going to copy and paste what I said to this person, because I feel like a brief summary of what I said wouldn't do justice to the point I was conveying to this individual and what I'd like to convey to my readers.

So, here's what I told them:

"I've had depression for a long time and have been told and called various horrible things throughout my life. I've had a negative body image and have desired to exercise with the motive of getting "skinny and pretty". And so the advice I am gonna give you is essentially what I needed from my friends during these various times of my life where I felt similar things as your friend does (whether I actually got these things or not), and I hope that it helps you have an idea what to do. I assume that she feels comfortable enough to tell you a lot of her life story and the struggles she goes through. I needed someone to remind me that the mean things people have said to me aren't true and for them to do their best to help me see what is true. I needed someone to tell me that just because it hurts doesn't mean I am what hurt me. I needed a friend to make me laugh, to help me not take life so seriously, and to help me process how I felt about how I was hurt in a reasonable way. I needed someone to tell me that being overweight but happy and healthy (mentally and physically) feels better than trying to become model status hot, and that my appearance does little to define who I actually am. As a matter of fact, I'm a little bit overweight, and have only started lite exercise for the past four days, but knowing that exercise actually relieves depression is my number one motivation to do it. I don't care if I ever become skinny, anything that will in some way lessen this depression in a healthy way will motivate me to do those things. Whether or not she ever becomes her idea of skinny and pretty, exercise is important for her mental health, so encourage her in that. If the meds aren't working for her depression, then exercise and eating well (and enough) will help relieve her depression, even if only a little bit. It took me a long time to find the motivation for exercise, but if she's already motivated to exercise, let her know how it's going to truly help her feel better overall. I got about half of what I needed from my friends from them, and other things I've had to learn on my own. But I think the number one thing I've always needed from my friends (and anyone that has claimed to care about me, really) was for them to just not give up on me. You seem strong, kind, smart, and genuinely concerned for your friend. I'm sure you'd never give up on her, but I still want to say this: please, never give up on her, because the pain of watching people who claimed to care about you walk out of your life because things got hard and shit got a bit too real for them is one of the most soul crushing experiences someone can go through. I don't really blame people for walking out of my life, but I still wish some were willing to stay. That being said, I trust you will never give up on her. Thank you for asking for help on how to help her. Cheers, and be well."

Walk:

As I mentioned earlier, I went on a longer walk today. My headphones broke, so sadly I can't listen to music until I get new ones this weekend. I did a little self reflection, got my blood pumping, and accidentally walked down someone's driveway. It literally looked like some kind of path I've never seen, give me a break; I've lived here in Florida for only 6 months and have probably only gotten out of the house a little over 10 times (yes, I know). So I came upon the home owners on their front porch and realized what happened (but I mean seriously, this was a dirt path, a shitty excuse for a driveway according to my California raised self). I honestly thought I was gonna find something cool, I don't know. And I'm so embarrassed all I can let escape from my mouth was a "hi". Then I did an immediate about-face and marched my dumb ass back where I am from. Fortunately I normally don't walk this far, so I'm sure I'll never see these people again. But good god it was embarrassing. I can laugh at it now, though. I did feel a little more refreshed once I got home. I'm starting to really enjoy walking. End of Day Notes: Today was a hard day. Days like this I would have said fuck my responsibilities and goals and just let my misery overtake me, but for the first time I actually stuck to what I said I was going to do the best I could and didn’t give up, even though emotionally I felt horrible. I think that’s an improvement.

#self improvement #depression #anxiety #mental health #jessi-31days #motivation

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stephspencer10 · 4 years

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Post updated.View Post

In 2017, I bought and read Maud’s Story, a 2013 self-published/Vanity Press book written by my Aunt Charlotte LeBaron — my Mother’s brother Verlan LeBaron’s first wife.

It’s a short book consisting mainly of letters supposedly written by Maud Lucinda McDonald LeBaron* — letters run-together in often hard-to-decipher paragraphs more akin to vignettes.

It appears, at the time of this book’s writing, Aunt Charlotte still held fast to The Church of the First Born. This I assume because “Maud’s Story” contains a revised version/a rewrite of the history and teachings of the “Prophet Joel LeBaron” saga; wherein she turns the tale upside down and Joel into a martyred Prophet. By so doing, she shows, though not intentionally, how religious myths are made.

Maud Lucinda McDonald LeBaron is my maternal grandmother, of whom I’m “the spittin’ image” — I was always told while growing up. The above photo of her looks so much like me at that age, I look at it and think it is me. I can’t tell the difference!

When I saw, on Amazon.com, Aunt Charlotte had published my Grandma Maud LeBaron’s story, I spent $4.00 … and three hours reading it. Such was its brevity. That even includes the many times I had to re-read parts, attempting to understand what the heck had been said.

Suffice it to say, the book was no bargain! It left me wanting more. It’s supposed to be Grandmother LeBaron’s story; but missing in the biography are many tales Grandma used to tell about her life.

Nevertheless, nobody else has published anything much about Grandma Maud. So I’m glad Aunt Charlotte wrote as much as she did. “If you don’t like how the story was written, write it yourself,” they say.

Still, I resent that Aunt Charlotte used Grandmother Maud: She wrote a book “about” Grandma that was largely meant to draw in Grandma’s progeny, relatives and others; and convert them to her’s/Charlotte’s and Uncle Joel’s Church of the Firstborn doctrine — a la Charlotte LeBaron’s viewpoint, however — if they were not already members of Joel’s church. In that sense, Maud’s Story really should be “Charlotte’s Story.”

I was disappointed “Maud’s Story” wasn’t imbued with more of Grandmother’s colorful history. And disgusted she borrowed heavily from The LeBaron Story — a book my mother Esther LeBaron Spencer largely wrote — without stating she was quoting from that book; let alone crediting my mother.

She includes in her booklet numerous “Quotes from Grandma’s Notes.” Doesn’t write much, otherwise, about Grandma. Perhaps, to get more of Grandma’s history, Charlotte expects us to read The LeBaron Story, a manuscript consisting mostly of my mom’s work that Aunt Charlotte helped her husband Verlan LeBaron compile, finish, and publish.

Both The LeBaron Story and Maud’s Story strike me as an apologist’s story written to preach the Church of the Firstborn/CotFotfot doctrine.

In other words, Maud’s Story‘s general flavor is biased and provincial. It whitewashes and glorifies the Alma Dayer and Maud Lucinda McDonald LeBaron family, making them, the Mexico-LeBarons, look like a Godly family with a saintly mission.

I find this covert preaching of the CotFotfot dogma distasteful — especially the revising of its doctrine and history to make it more palatable than it was when my Uncles Ervil and Joel LeBaron first spawned this sect/cult in 1955—a take off from their older brothers Ross Wesley LeBaron Sr. and Ben LeBaron’s cults, as well as other Mormon fundamentalist cults.

To summarize, Aunt Charlotte has white-washed history in The LeBaron Story and Maud’s Story so as to turn Uncle Joel into a Prophet, Saint, and Martyr. And his untimely murder into a Modern-Day Cain and Abel Story. But there’s a lot more to this dirty tale than meets the eye. So “Charlotte’s Story” is as much a myth in the making as it is a revisionist-history’s gold mine.

My final thoughts on Maud’s Story: Grandmother should have given a sermon or two in church if she was as erudite and well-versed in the cult’s dogma as she appears to be in Charlotte’s short biography where she uses Grandmother Maud to preach Joel’s dogma.

In truth, Grandmother was a musician and homemaker … no Scriptorian! She left the preaching and proselytizing up to leaders in the cult; preferred to be in the kitchen cooking and feeding people, when she wasn’t teaching piano lessons and taking care of kids and the homestead.

Perhaps Aunt Charlotte didn’t know it but William Preston Tucker (my now-deceased husband) and my Uncle Ervil LeBaron put their heads together to write those letters Charlotte says Grandma wrote to Spencer W. Kimball!

I was there at the time. I recall these two leaders of the LeBaron Church/cult talking about how they could use Grandma Maud as a ploy to get the President of the LDS church to read their [LeBaron cult] literature because she had grown up with Spencer W. Kimball.

They figured he would read a letter from Maud, his childhood friend, though not literature from her sons and their LeBaron cult. (So they were sneaking up on Pres. Kimball by way of Maud.)*

Suffice it to say, Aunt Charlotte wasn’t honest about the story of how my Uncle Joel became the self-proclaimed One Mighty and Strong. Therefore, I don’t trust much of what she relates in her book. I know for sure, for example, Grandmother Maud DID NOT write most of those letters Charlotte credits her with.

You only have to look at Grandma’s “Notes ‘n’ Quotes” Charlotte wrote “in Grandma’s own words” to get a good example of how Grandmother wrote. When you carefully compare “Grandma’s words” to those eruditely-written letters to Spencer W. Kimball, you can see they were NOT written by Grandma LeBaron.

A final word: Should anyone consider doing a reprint of Maud’s Story, please get a good Editor to go over it beforehand. Also, do not run Grandmother’s “Notes ‘n’ Quotes” together as if they were one organized piece. They’re not!

They are short vignettes, and should be separated as such; so the reader isn’t hoping to find the rest of the tale in the next paragraph, only to be left hanging by the tail — for a whole new tale takes up in the next paragraph!

*”Ghost writing“/deception was the name of the game when I was sequestered in the LeBaron cult in the 1960s. The sect’s two leading Scriptorians My Uncle Ervil LeBaron and my husband William Preston Tucker would write the exposé or such. Then publish it with whatever name or signature they thought would be most impressive and most likely to convert those receiving the literature.

youtube

(Comments transferred from Facebook”:)

Says Moira Blackmore:

I knew Maud, she went out of her busy days by visiting me all alone in Galeana with my 4 baby girls, and when their were shooting guns in my back neighborhood… thank you Steff … I love you, Maud, I love Charlotte as well, years later …

My response to Moira: I appreciate your feedback, Moira, and your attempts to always be positive and loving. That’s what makes the world go around. I’m so happy Grandma visited you and helped lift your spirits during a very bad time.

I remember her being concerned about your being over there alone; and her begging someone to take her over to visit you. I do not remember who she got to do the driving as she could not drive.

And now I’m getting off onto a bunny trail: I know she visited you out of care and concern for you and your situation. But she was also often there for visitors and people she was trying to help convert to the cult. Converts meant more people saved, more tithing money — and consecrations of all their wealth to the Bishop’s storehouse!

Such money was largely how Grandma and her sons managed to survive down in the Mexico-LeBaron colony. Especially was more money needed as each of her sons married more and more wives who bore more and more children.

Given her help with the church’s conversion of new members, it seems aging Grandma Maud had no energy and time left over for her own hundreds of grand, great-grand, great-great, and great-great-great-grandchildren, and so on and on … not to mention her thousands of other relatives ad infinitum.

During the two years I lived at home, before I was married off at age 16, I recall only a few times after we moved to the LeBaron colony that she ever came by her daughter/my mother Esther LeBaron Spencer’s place to visit; even though we lived within walking distance of Grandmother Maud.

Nor did my Grandmother Maud ever visit me, once I was married, even in my hours of need and desperation; although I lived within walking distance of her.

I may as well have not had a grandmother. But she did help Mother a lot after my father died. By then I was 18 and married — no longer living with my mom.

When I was fourteen and we moved from the United States to where Grandmother Maud lived in Mexico, I had thought: Now I will finally have one of those grandmothers I have so often read about in children’s literature and so longed to have as I was growing up.

But Grandmother Maud, though she had favored and spoiled my mama when she was raising her, was never emotionally there for me nor the rest of my mother’s thirteen other children, as far as I know. Not much, anyway.

For me, she never was a grandma that made cookies for her grandkids, let alone did she give us grandchildren any other gifts. Nor even hugs. She always had a big twinkling smile for me and her other grandchildren, though; whenever we saw her at church or elsewhere.

Our Family was not a hugging-touching family. But pioneer-woman Grandmother was also simply overwhelmed and overworked, given her primitive lifestyle and her monumental duties; including being the church pianist and the colony’s piano teacher.

To put it succinctly, there was simply no way my ever-aging grandmother could muster all the time and energy needed to keep up with her exponentially growing progeny. She was already 68 years old when my family moved to the LeBaron colony; I was 14 years old then.

I had always lived within walking distance of her, while in the LeBaron colony; so she did come by three or four times, after I was married, to give me some piano lessons. She was around seventy-three years old then! Thanks, Grandma!

But, other than that, in the four years I lived near her, and on my own, after I was married at sixteen, Grandmother dropped by one other time — though not to see her new grandchild, my first child, that I had almost died giving birth to, at age seventeen. My baby and I were simply taken for granted, as was generally the custom there!

The reason she came by that one other time was to take back a piece of piano sheet music she had given me that she now wanted to turn around and take away from me to give to an investigator of our cult who was a pianist! I told Grandma, “No! You gave the music to me!! It’s mine now! I want it. You can’t take it back to give to somebody else!”

Grandmom was furious with me for not giving it back to her so she could gift it to the investigator of our “Church”! Getting converts — new people into God’s work — was part of her and her sons’ bread and butter. So that investigator was more important than I, her granddaughter. On top of that, she treated me as if the music still belonged to her, though she had given it to me the year before. Such “Indian trading”!

Now I know where Mother learned this taking-back what she had given me, as if she still had tabs on it; so could turn around, whenever she wanted to, and give it to somebody else — even though I still very much wanted it and it belonged to me!

I never knew what to depend on. Then you wonder what causes schizophrenic kids? I’m at least sure this behavior did not help any.

Bottom line: When there are lots of kids and relatives, they are not highly valued. They get taken for granted. They are pawns in the hands of the powers that be and regularly sacrificed for “the cause”!

Rachel LeBaron Anderson:

The BIG question: “Will what you are going to say improve the world by being said?”

Steph Spencer Good question, Rachel! I ask myself that important question all the time as I write my Memoirs!

Rachel LeBaron Anderson You are bringing healing to the younger generations trying to make sense of everything, building strong roots, many generations will be glad someone wrote things down.

Steph Spencer Thanks so much for this insightful response and feedback! As always, Rachel, you show wisdom and intellect. Your remarks are much appreciated and will help me as I take time to make sense of everything on my end. That is certainly one of my goals!

Dena McLean I enjoyed reading this book, not only to learn about family but specifically learn more about my Great Grandmother Maud. I know the story is all in perspective but I like to hear all perspectives.

Even if I don’t agree with the religious views, I find it fascinating how they chose Joel LeBaron, Alma’s priesthood keys and all the people connected to each story and then trying to find them in genealogy. Right now, I’m trying to discover if the man who baptized Maud was John Smith, as in Joseph Smith’s brother’s son or another John Smith. I hope to find some truth.

Steph Spencer Thank you for this valuable feedback. As always, I’m impressed with your scholarliness. To be sure, Charlotte’s Maud’s Story is skewed: It attempts to convert people to the belief that Joel was a true Prophet, etc.

Aunt Charlotte Kunz LeBaron was there pretty much from the beginning of Joel and Ervil’s “Church,” but chose to change how Joel got the “priesthood keys,” et cetera. Newcomers to the story believe her fabrications. That’s how myths are built.

Review of Charlotte LeBaron’s “Maud’s Story” Post updated.View Post In 2017, I bought and read Maud's Story, a 2013 self-published/Vanity Press…

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emilybelstead1-blog · 6 years

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