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ellethespaceunicorn · 10 months ago

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Something Old, Something New

Title: Something Old, Something New

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader

Fandom: The 355

Word Count: 9.5K (whoopsie)

Summary: Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.

Warnings: infidelity, divorce, recreational drug use (marijuana), drinking, mutual pining, pet names (Gumdrop, baby), praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected p-in-v sex, mention of bodily fluids (creampie), public sex, if I forgot anything please tell me

A/N1: My tiles for @thebasementspouses VOTM Nick Fowler BINGO were: divorced, best friend’s brother, writer’s choice(prompt #802 from @creativepromptsforwriting), drunken confession, public sex. BINGO card at end of story.

A/N2: I have been working on this story for weeks and I really hope I have done the Nick Fowler fandom justice. It's my first time, and hopefully not the last time, writing for Nick. I thoroughly enjoyed writing him. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Three Months Ago

The cardstock was rigid in your hands, the envelope discarded seconds ago. The confetti in the envelope litters around your Chucks as you bring your attention to the words embossed upon the invitation. You had been waiting for this day ever since you received the Save the Date announcement.

You ran your finger over the pretty lettering, its raised borders were a nice tactile touch. The peaceful pink, whispered white, and mellow merlot of the flowers against a hint of golden accents was a beautiful choice. Not too feminine, nor too masculine.

Turning the invitation over, you found more information.

‘Accommodations will be completely covered for your 8-night stay at The Ocracoke Harbor Inn by the family of the Bride. You will be staying in the fully-furnished Treasure Chest Cottage. Amenities include full-service linens, complimentary wireless Internet, and guest boat docking. Guests have access to a sound-side beach. Password for WI-FI given upon check-in. Nonsmoking, no pets.’

Leave it to the Fowlers to go nuts and rent out the entire inn for their only daughter’s wedding, you thought to yourself. You were not surprised at all, growing up as a rich girl’s best friend had its perks.

As if on cue, your phone started to play the opening notes of Losing You by Solange to signal an incoming call. Pulling your phone out, you smiled seeing Deanne’s name. You clicked Accept and raised the phone to your ear.

“Hello to the future Mrs. Alexander!” Your cheery demeanor not letting on how jealous you were of your friend’s impending nuptials.

Euphonious laughter rings through the earpiece and you can’t help but join in.

“Girl, can you believe it? I am about to tie the knot, be off the market, and settle down. I’m only 12% nervous about everything so I’m doing great,” she snorted, and suddenly you were a bit less jealous if this kind of anxiety is what she had to deal with, “Anyway, um, I was giving you a call because I wanted to ask if you got your invitation and I also wanted to see if I could save myself time in waiting for your R.S.V.P. and bug and pester you until you agree to let my parents pay for you to come spend a week with us and come to my wedding and–”

“Deanne! Stop with the run-on sentence, doll. Did you think I was gonna pass up this opportunity? God, I love that you chose Ocracoke as your wedding destination. So many vacations were spent getting into all kinds of trouble,” you recalled, images of splashing in the water as kids and lounging on the beach as teens replayed in your mind.

“Yeah. Hey, when we were little girls planning our dream weddings, I was serious when I said I wanted it on the beach on Ocracoke Island. But not in the summer because of bugs and heat, but in the winter so we get that beautiful off-season fresh air,” Deanne mused.

“Dee, it’s gonna be gorgeous. I cannot wait to see you in your stunning dress walking down that aisle. Just know that since I am your oldest friend, you pretty much owe me the bouquet,” you laughed, only half-joking.

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s already yours,” she bantered, clearing her throat before speaking again, “So, I also called because I wanted to vent a little, if that’s okay?”

“It’s always okay. You doing alright?” you asked, now worried that your friend was in trouble.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. I have an update on Nick and Tori, though,” she paused, allowing your mind to wander.

The mention of your first crush’s name sent a shiver down your back. Many a moment had been wasted thinking about his pretty smile and grayish-blue eyes. You’d liked Nick before you knew you even liked boys. He was the heartthrob that trumped every teen dream of every other girl in America’s heart. In your mind, he was the closest to perfect you could imagine.

You responded, “Oh?”

“So, their divorce is finalized. My big brother is officially a divorcé. I would have thought that a man who was with someone for so long might be partying it up right now. But he says he’s focusing on work and, I don’t know. I just want him to be happy. And like, he’s getting divorced as I’m getting married and it feels so weird. It doesn’t seem fair,” she lamented.

“Dee, come on. You know Nicky wouldn’t want you to think like that. He loves you. You’re his favorite sibling,” you jested, trying to lighten the mood.

“Ha ha. I’m his only sibling. I better be his favorite,” Dee chuckled, happy to be distracted, “So that brings me to you, Miss Missy. Last I heard, you were dating some engineer guy? Do I get to meet him soon?”

You inwardly cringed, hopes dashed of being able to avoid the topic of your relationship status. Things with Curtis kind of fizzled out when you found his tongue down an intern’s throat. You had been bringing him dinner since he’d complained about the late nights at the office.

Turns out he was hungry for more than your baked ziti.

You explained all this to Dee, remembering the look on Curtis’ face when you poured the prepared food into his lap. He was so shook, it was beautiful.

“I didn’t want to waste all that food but he looked wonderful with my pasta all over his shirt and pants. He honestly deserved it. It was his favorite shirt too. I hope those stains never come out,” you huffed, feeling like you were right back in that office again.

“I have never been so proud of you. I wish I could put hot sauce in his underwear for hurting my girl. I’m sure if I just had a few minutes, I could come up with something more diabolical than that. But it’s what I have at a moment’s notice,” she retorted.

One thing you could always count on Dee for? Getting angry for you and using her beautiful and educated mind to come up with some way to make the person who slighted you pay for their misdeeds. It was both adorable and super embarrassing to have her tiny frame looking up into some bully’s face pointing her finger at them.

“Well, I appreciate your offer, but he is so not worth the energy. You have much better things to think about, like your wedding day. This is your cue to stop worrying about me, Dee,” you advised, a stern tone coloring your words.

“Fine, I will stop worrying about you out loud. You got it, girl. Anyway, I won’t hold you. Talk soon, ok? I miss you,” she said, and you could envision her getting bleary-eyed.

“I miss you too, Dee. We’ll get together soon, I promise,” you sighed, feeling guilty for letting your friendship dwindle over the years.

“I’ll hold you to it. Bye, babe,” she hummed.

“Bye.” You hang up the phone and close your eyes. Visions of what Dee will look like in her wedding dress cloud your thoughts. Little snippets of grayish-blue eyes and dark brown hair seep in and you can almost hear his laugh again. You open your eyes, blinking away the mental images that brought you joy for a moment.

‘This is fine,’ you thought to yourself. Yeah, totally. You’re only going to see your best friend from childhood get married, effectively ending your childhood with a pretty bow on top. You also were only going to be with the biggest crush you ever had for like, an entire week.

And he’s single.

And probably needy.

And...you had better get your jaw up off the floor if you were going to get anything done.

Three months is enough time to get your brain, your body, and your emotions in check before you make a fool out of yourself in front of your second family.

Right?

January 20th, 2024 – Day One

Standing on the deck of the Hatteras Ferry, you watch as Ocracoke Island comes into view. The sun is at its highest and you are thankful for your sunglasses shielding the the bright sunlight bouncing off the crystal clear waters. You can taste the salty air and you are instantly transported to memories of running around the decks of this ferry with Deanne and Nick while your mothers tried in vain to wrangle you all.

The island comes into view and you search the docks for a familiar face. Dee promised to meet you at the docks, but when you approach them she is nowhere to be found. You pull your luggage behind you as your shoulder bag decides to slide off.

Before it can hit the ground, it’s caught by the strap by a strong hand at the same time you reach out to grab it. You thank the kind stranger as you both stand to your full height and you are face-to-face with a grown-ass Nicholas Fowler. He says something and you don’t hear hide nor hair of what the hell he just said, you look at him and break into a smile and he chuckles and speaks again.

“I hope you don’t mind Dee got me to pick you up. She had some wedding stuff to do. I wasn’t listening,” he explains, adjusting his sunglasses and putting your bag on his shoulder. He gestures over to his black Lamborghini Urus.

Once you walk over, he puts your shoulder bag in the back seat. You step closer to him to hand him your rolling luggage. You are mesmerized as his strong forearms flex when he puts everything in the SUV.

You clear your throat and look around when he looks back at you, catching you watching him. He closes the back door and guides you to the passenger side, opening your door for you.

“Oh, you’re a full-service driver today, huh?” you joke, stepping past him. Your platform espadrilles clacking on the asphalt. Adjusting your strapless sundress, you climb in.

“Whatever service you require, Gumdrop,” he replies with a smile, making sure you are comfortable before closing your door.

That fucking nickname… He would call you gumdrop instead of your name more often than not. That’s all, he didn’t mean anything by it, right?

When you are both buckled in, you start the drive across the island. Comfortable conversation is easy between you two. It’s like you fall back into a safe space with him. You talk about old vacations, funny moments, and what you both are up to these days. Neither of you mentions either of your failed relationships and you can’t keep the smile off of your face.

“Hey, we still have an hour until check-in. You wanna grab a bite or go to the beach or something?” he suggests.

“Are you sure they’re not waiting for us?” you counter, wondering if it’s a good idea to have a little moment with Nick all to yourself.

“I’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission. No pressure, just a suggestion,” he presses, taking a second to look over at you and smile that smile that has had you in a chokehold most of your life.

After thinking about it for all of five seconds, you agree to have lunch at Plum Pointe Kitchen. You enjoy a generous helping of Drunken Chicken nachos while Nick gets the VooDoo Shrimp PO’Boy. You share half of your meal, and Nick refuses to let you pay for anything.

Making your way to the Ocracoke Harbor Inn after lunch, you finally meet up with everyone. Dee is in mid-conversation with someone when she sees you and Nick pull up into the parking lot. She walks over to you and pulls you into a very tight embrace. It’s like everything was chaos before you got here.

“Oh my goodness, I am so glad you are here. How was the trip? Did you eat? Did Nick bore you? I’m sorry that I couldn’t come and meet you, but we had a little mishap with the reservation for the hotel and then I thought I left my wedding dress at home, and then we–”

You cut off Dee before she can work herself into a frenzy again, “Dee! Breathe. You’re gonna be fine, I promise. And is that Matthew? Introduce me already, would you?” you encourage, trying to get your friend’s mind off of the previous debacle and onto the man walking over.

Dee introduces you to Matthew and he charms you with the way he dotes on Dee. He seems like the type to be able to handle her rambling and intense emotions. How he looks at her while she speaks makes you miss having someone look at you like that.

“Well, it’s just about 3 o’clock now. Let’s get checked in and settled, then we can get together later?” Matthew chimes in.

“Sounds good,” Nick agrees, turning to you, “Go ahead and leave your stuff in my car. I’ll take you to your cottage after we are all checked in.” You nod, trying to hide your excitement.

Once you are done with the receptionist, you get your key and the wifi password to your cottage. While waiting for everyone else to get done, you fiddle on your phone until Nick’s shadow looms over you. Looking up, you are greeted with his eyes no longer shielded by his sunglasses in the dim lobby.

“You ready, Gumdrop? We still have some time before Mom and Dad show up. And I think I remember Dee saying she would call when she was ready to go out,” he concludes, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous about something. But you don’t push.

“All set,” you say, smiling up at him feeling bold enough to wrap your arm around his while you walk out of the lobby.

Dee shouts after you to behave yourselves and tense up a bit while Nick chuckles, seemingly amused by his sister’s thinly veiled comment on two single adults being close. Damn them.

Nick opens the passenger side door for you again, closing it once you are safely inside. He drives to the Margaritaville Cottage where he will stay with his parents during the trip. He instructs you to stay in the car while he just drops his bags off and is back outside in a few minutes.

The next stop is your cottage, called the Treasure Chest. You snicker at the name, thinking it sounded more like a pirate-themed strip joint. When Nick asks what you’re laughing about, you tell him your thoughts on the name of where you are staying. The slow smile that spreads on his face makes you involuntarily clench your thighs, wondering what his days-old stubble would feel like between your legs.

He tilts his head just slightly at you, then turns back to the road, smile still intact. Luckily the drive is short as the cottages are fairly close to one another. Nick parks in the driveway and you both get out and stretch your legs. He comes around and grabs your shoulder bag and luggage, motioning for you to lead the way.

Walking up the steps to the door, you unlock it and are welcomed by the scent of fresh linen. The central air of the cottage is just this side of perfect and you drop your purse on the dining room table. Turning around, you see Nick walking into a room off of the living room.

“Holy shit, you got a King-sized bed,” he shouts from the bedroom.

Walking in, you sit at the foot of the bed next to Nick and start to untie your shoes. He follows suit and turns to you biting his lip, a question at the tip of his tongue.

Facing him, you ask, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No. I, uh...I’m surprised you haven’t asked yet,” he notes. At your confusion, he holds up his left ring finger. A band of untanned skin around the base clues you in that he’s talking about his divorce.

“Nicky, I would never make you talk about it. It can’t be easy in that situation. I mean, I only broke up with Curtis a few months ago and we were only together for six months. I couldn’t imagine how a divorce feels after how long you and Tori were together,” you insist, placing a hand on his knee.

He covers your hand with his and nods. “Mom and Dad are pretty good about it. They don’t ask me how I’m doing with that sad look in their eyes anymore. But Dee? Jesus, when I told her about the incident, she was out for blood. I had to end up calming her down. All because someone broke her big bro’s heart. Love her, but she can get a little carried away,” he finishes.

“This is not to make you feel like you need to share, but you mentioned “the incident” and now I’m curious. Feel free to tell me to shut the fuck up. But I caught Curtis with his tongue down another woman’s throat. I don’t know for sure how long it had been going on or if they had done anything else together, but I knew at that moment that I was done. I am worth more than that. And so are you, Nicky,” you encourage, feeling a bit of weight lift off your shoulders after finally talking about your breakup.

“My situation was similar. Tori had been cheating on me for the last two years of our marriage with her boss. I had a feeling something was up, just didn’t want to believe it was something like this,” he reveals, continuing, “But I am moving on, so to speak. I’m not holding out anymore for her to come crawling back to me with a sad story and all that. Even though I hope that she falls in a sinkhole.”

You both laugh and continue talking, taking your minds off of your breakups. You reminisce about all of the times you’ve stayed on the island during vacations. You giggle over dumb stories of you all as teens in high school, hiding weed from your parents and drinking on the beach til it was time to sneak back into the hotel.

You get an idea and you tell Nick to give you a minute before you go back into the living room to retrieve your purse. Coming back into the bedroom, you pull out a vape pen and wiggle it in front of Nick’s face, a devilish smirk on your lips.

“We’ll just take one hit each and we will be fine. Just a bit more mellow,” you offer, pulling him to the balcony off of the living room. You each occupy a wicker chair and you hand over the device.

“Gumdrop, you little devil,” he takes the pen from you and inhales, closing his eyes and holding the smoke in his lungs before letting it out. The smoke dissipates quickly and you can see the weight lift off of his shoulders. Handing it back to you, he exhales loudly and leans back in his chair.

Putting the tip in your mouth, you hit the button and inhale. Warm vapor fills you and you release the button, holding in the smoke for a beat and then letting it out toward the sky. You put the pen down on the table between you and fold your legs under you, letting your dress cascade down.

Sitting in companionable silence with Nick feels great. Neither of you feels the need to talk while you listen to the sounds of nature around you. People walking around the cottages, cars driving by, and the distant waves from Pamlico Sound make you wish you had gone to the beach earlier.

“Fuck, that was only one hit and I feel like my bones are made of jelly,” you remark, swaying to a song that isn’t playing with your eyes closed.

Nick looks over to you and smiles, “Must be jelly ‘cause jam don’t shake like that.”

You open your eyes and turn to him, your mouth twitches before you break out into uncontrollable laughter. Nick soon follows and you both are taken over by the giggles. You settle down soon enough, still feeling the buzzing calmness of being high.

“The world needs more people like you,” you beam.

“Nah, I like being unique,” he replies, his phone chiming. Picking up a video call from Dee, “Hey Sis.”

“Hey, me and Matt were gonna go for dinner and drinks, you in?” she asks.

“Yeah, that sounds...good,” Nick answers for himself while looking at you to get your answer.

“Ok, well get ready and meet us at Oyster Company. And tell my best friend that she is coming, no ifs, ands, or buts. See you both soon!” With that, she ends the call.

“So...our decision has been made for us. Do you need to change or anything?” Nick wonders, gesturing to your traveling attire.

“If I take this dress off, I am not going out. Besides, I like this dress. I think I look positively adorable. But I will change my shoes to something more comfortable,” you finish before Nick can comment on how he also likes your dress. You pick up the vape pen, make your way back to your luggage, and pull out some flat sandals.

Once you are ready, you make your way back outside and are surprised to see Dee and Matt parked on the street outside of your cottage. “We decided to pick you up. Matt is DD tonight, so we can all get a little loosey-goosey. Plus, I can always tell when Nick is high, so get in losers!”

Nick snorts, and you are mortified to be found out, but you quickly get over it once you are in the backseat of Matt’s Audi Q4. The short ride to the restaurant was spent with Nick’s left leg brushing against your right leg. He was either manspreading or he wanted to touch you and wanted to keep it under the radar.

Either way, you were excited to feel his warmth next to you.

When you make it to the restaurant, you sit at a high table and it almost feels like a double date. Especially when your waitress congratulates Dee and Matt on their wedding while remarking that you and Nick make a cute couple as well. Your face warms up and you suddenly feel like every eye is on you.

Nick comes to your rescue, answering the waitress with a smile, “My girl’s a bit shy, is all. Can we get a pitcher of beer for the table to start? And also two shots of Crown Royal Vanilla for me and the little lady. Thanks.”

If it was possible, you would have melted through the floor and evaporated, but instead, you just hide behind the menu until Nick pokes his head in.

“That wasn’t to embarrass you, I swear. But I got nervous that she was gonna try and flirt with me, so I dragged you under the proverbial bus with me,” he admits, his lopsided smile only making you want him more.

“Fine. You’ll just have to make it up to me,” you warn, a devious grin appearing on your face.

You put down your menu just as the waitress comes back with the drinks. Taking both shots, you hand one to Nick. Staring in each other’s eyes, you clink your shot glasses and then tap them on the table before taking the shot. The sweet burn of the liquor warms you from within while Nick’s eyes on you melt whatever nerves you had previously.

A cleared throat breaks your trance, your focus changing from Nick to Dee.

“I talked to Mom and Dad and they won’t get here ‘til Friday afternoon with the rest of the guests. Dad said he had a few things to take care of and not to worry. Of course, I worry tenfold because he told me not to,” Dee interjects, busying herself with pouring beer into her frosted glass.

“Baby, they’ll be here as soon as they can. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about anything,” Matt insists, moving a strand of hair away from Dee’s face before kissing her.

“Promise to keep me occupied?” she requests, a sinful smile on her face.

“I do,” he jokes, clearly proud of himself for making his fiancée blush.

“First of all, how dare you? Secondly, that was almost too cute so watch yourself,” she laughs.

You roll your eyes at the happy couple and smile, going back to looking over the menu. The waitress comes back to the table and takes your orders. Over the meal, you get to know Matt a bit more and you can see how Dee fell in love with him. He’s intelligent, funny, and charismatic. The way he talks about and to her makes you so happy to know your friend found love.

When they turn to talk to each other, you and Nick spark up a conversation about work. He tells you what he can about working for the government, keeping the specific details to himself. You regale him with stories of your time as a freelance writer. You’ve written for dozens of publications, but you just want to get your original works out there for people to enjoy.

After mentioning a few pieces you wrote for GQ, Nick expressed interest in reading your articles. You try and downplay your skills, but he presses you for the links. Taking out your phone, you realize that you don’t have his number.

While you exchange digits with Nick, you are too busy to notice Dee casting a sidelong glance and smiling to herself. You ramble on as you send him link after link of some of your favorites. With your face in your phone, you don’t notice the way Nick looks at you with a mix of pride and hunger.

“Well, I am ready to call it a night,” Dee yawns, getting everyone’s attention, “But I could use a nightcap. Who’s up for a trip to the ABC Store? We can make it before they close.”

Everyone agrees and after the check is paid, you all pile into Matt’s SUV for the quick drive to the liquor store. You browse the aisles for a bit by yourself. Filling up your basket with a bottle of wine, some whiskey, and a six-pack of hard seltzers, you surmise that this will sustain you for the week ahead and go in search of the others.

You find Nick in front of the beer cooler, hard at work trying to decide between a 12-pack of Sam Adams’ Cold Snap and Harpoon’s Long Thaw. You suggest he get both and he agrees.

Meeting Dee and Matt up at the front of the store, you stand next to Nick in line and he laughs at the contents of your shopping basket. He puts his beer up for the cashier to scan and has you do the same, paying for your items.

A little piece of you feels taken care of and you thank him while continuing to tell him he doesn’t have to. He just shushes you and says you can make it up to him later. Before your mind can think about what that might entail, the sale is rung and bagged. Nick picks up the beer and you grab the bag of your things.

Nick asks Matt to just drop him off at your cottage since he left his car there. His cottage is literally next door, but you’re not exactly gonna deny yourself the company. Dee and Matt drive away and you turn back to Nick. You both laugh nervously and you surprise yourself by speaking up.

“So, um. I was gonna have a weed and whiskey moment to myself, but I’d be willing to share if you’re interested,” you hint, watching as he weighs his options.

“Lead the way, Gumdrop,” he replies.

He follows you in, closing the door behind him. He puts his beer into the fridge along with your hard seltzer. You put the wine on the counter and take out the whiskey while Nick finds two short glasses in the cabinet. Pouring a generous amount in each one, he offers you a drink and you take a sip of the amber liquid.

Letting the whiskey sit in your mouth, you savor the hints of vanilla and spice. You reach in your purse for your vape pen and take a hit of it before offering it to Nick. Taking a long pull off of the pen, he exhales and you watch as his shoulders relax. You both take another sip of whiskey and revel in the dual flavors of the weed and whiskey.

You take your glass and the bottle, moving onto the patio off of the living room, and sit down in one of the wicker chairs while Nick takes the other. The conversation comes easily enough. Mostly high thoughts and random memories come to mind. After a while, you put on some music and when 6 Underground by Sneaker Pimps comes on, you can’t help but dance in your chair.

Nick stares while you close your eyes and move your hands to the trip-hop classic. You spend the entire song moving to the downtempo beat and enjoying your crossfade. The trance you were under slowly dissipates as the song ends and Pendulum by FKA Twigs starts.

When you open your eyes, Nick is pulling you to stand up. You’re lost as to what he is doing until his hands go to yours, pulling them to rest around his neck while he holds your hips. As the song continues, you follow his slow lead and sway to the intimate and mesmerizing indie hit.

🎶

You're younger than I am broken

I dance feelings like they're spoken

So my conversation's not enough

So lonely trying to be yours

Running through sliding doors

So lonely trying to be yours

When you're looking for so much more

🎶

By the time the song ends, the heat between you is unmistakable. Your hand tangles in his hair when he pulls you impossibly closer. Mere centimeters separate your lips. All you would need is to lean just one step closer and you’d finally get to taste his kiss.

Nick beats you to it and his hands pull your face to his, crashing your lips together. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips and he swallows it adding in his own grunts and groans. Kiss after kiss, you radiate carnality and passion.

Breaking the kiss, you watch as he licks his puffy bottom lip. You take in a breath of air and prepare to dive back in but Nick voices his thoughts.

“You are gonna be the death of me, Gumdrop,” he sighs, and at your brows furrowing he continues, “You’ve only been back in my life for a day and I’m already thinking of ways to keep you in it. Don’t hate me, but I think we should chill out, just for tonight. I swear, if you still want this by tomorrow night, I am all yours. But you better be all mine. Please, tell me you can wait for me?”

“Tomorrow night and you’re all mine?” you plead, and he nods.

“Less than 24 hours, baby. Show me that these feelings aren’t just from the substances in our system,” he insists, and you wanna fuck him even more now after he says that.

You nod and he speaks up, “Need to hear your words, baby, like a big girl.”

“Fuck...yes, I can wait. I can wait for you, Nicky,” you whimper and he rests his forehead against yours.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, lifting his head from yours, “Now, why don’t we call it a night before I go back on my word? You look so good in this dress and I really wanna be good.”

Agreeing with him, you clean up your empty glasses and move the bottle to the counter next to the wine. Nick pulls you into him one last time, snaking a hand down to your ass and grabbing a hefty portion of it before a hardy slap lands on your left cheek. He only snickers at your yelp and nibbles on your bottom lip.

“Keep that same energy for me because tomorrow I’m not holding back,” he vows, and if you weren’t leaning into him, your legs would’ve surely buckled. If he notices the tremble go through your body, he makes no mention of it and for that you are grateful.

“Goodnight, Nicky,” you hum.

“Sleep tight, Gumdrop. And do me a favor?” he challenges, at your nod he continues, “Save it for me. I’m gonna take care of you tomorrow, so no need to touch that kitty tonight, right?”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, “Right.”

He leaves and once the door is closed, you lean back against it, your hand going to your neck where your pulse is playing a sick beat against your skin.

Less than 24 hours, you think. You got this.

That night, you dream of grayish-blue eyes and large hands roaming your body.

January 21st, 2024 – Day Two

You wake just before 10:30 am and are greeted with a good morning text from Nick. He lets you know that he is taking you out, just the two of you. Since Dee and Matt are enjoying a couple’s spa package, he figures it would only be right to hit some of your favorite places on the island.

You are dressed and out the door by noon. Nick takes you to pick up lunch at Taqueria 504 Suazo’s and you drive out to rent a Jeep Gladiator at for a few hours to drive on the beach. One of the best things about this island is that everything is so close. After 5 minutes, you are at your destination.

Nick drives out a ways past the other people enjoying the off-season and stops about a minute after the last two fishermen you see. Guess he wanted a secluded spot, you think to yourself. While you get the food, Nick grabs the beach chairs and umbrella that he rented. The ocean breeze is agreeable enough, but you are glad that you brought a thin sweater to keep the chill off.

Once you sit down, you hand over Nick’s food and he digs into his burrito while you munch on your fish tacos. When your meal is finished, Nick puts your leftovers in the Gladiator and lets down the truck bed. He beckons you over and helps you sit on the edge and he climbs up and sits next to you while you both look at the water.

“Ya know, the last time we came out here I was just finishing my third year at Virginia Tech. You and Dee were seniors. I remember hoping upon hope that you would apply to VT and I remember you telling me you were accepting a scholarship from Princeton. I just sucked it up and congratulated you. Even though I was hoping you would understand why I wanted you close, I was so proud of you for venturing off on your own. You were always one to go after what you wanted. I just couldn’t stop wanting to be what you wanted,” he confesses, looking off into the water.

“I wanted you, Nicky. Trust me, I did. But I was so afraid that I had a dumb little crush on someone who would never see me as someone other than his little sister’s best friend. The last time I saw you, I thought it was right to push away the idea of you ever having feelings for me. I also may have been afraid of what Dee would say. She’s kind of protective over both of us, ya know?” you finish.

“That girl can be a vicious little thing when she wants to,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “But don’t you think it’s kind of a sign that she had me pick you up from the ferry? And how suddenly today, we have a free schedule to do whatever we want together? I know my sister, and she’s done this before. She matched me up with my high school girlfriend, Beth.”

“Ugh, Beth with the braces and bangs. I used to call her Triple B behind your back. I hated her so much,” you mutter, trying to push the image of them kissing out of your mind.

“Yeah, well. I knew you hated her, but me being an idiot teenager didn’t exactly know that meant you liked me. I just thought you didn’t like her because she was kind of a bitch. She was plenty nice to me, but she could be...a little scary, at times,” he laughs, surprising himself.

“So...you think Dee would be ok with...this?” you say, gesturing between the two of you.

“I just think there is no way she would let us be alone together if she wasn’t halfway hoping it would work out,” he guesses, “Plus, honestly? We’re adults. We’re allowed to go after what makes us happy.”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you pull Nick in for a kiss. You don’t want to jinx it but he makes you happy too. The way he looks at you like you hung the moon, the way he listens to you and asks questions and the way he kisses you?

It just has to be real.

Packing up your beach equipment, you head back to drop off everything. Getting back into his SUV, you head around the island and view some of the sights. You go shopping and pick up some new knick knacks to take home. Visiting the lighthouse, you take some photos and make sure to bring Dee and Matt here before you leave the island.

Since most of the island’s restaurants are closed on Sundays, you venture to Ocracoke Variety Store and opt for cooking dinner together. After you have all the ingredients you need for a simple fish fry, you head back to your cottage and you and Nick get your hands dirty.

You have him cutting up potatoes for steak fries while you are preparing the batter for the fish. When dinner is ready, you sit at the dining room table with soft music playing in the background. While Nick wanted to take you out for your first date, he could appreciate the quiet setting with just the two of you enjoying each other’s company.

Finishing your meal, Nick takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile and warmth radiates in your cheeks. You hate to admit it, but you wish you had a little liquid courage right now. But the nerves you feel only cement that this is happening.

He pulls you up from your seat, the hunger in his eyes evident from his blown-wide pupils. Leading you into the bedroom, he stops just short of the end of the bed. Standing behind you as you face the bed, he runs his hands down your bare arms and whispers in your ear.

“I cannot wait to take you apart, Gumdrop. But,” he starts, turning you around to face him, “First, I just want to take my time and worship this beautiful body I know you’re hiding from me.”

If he wasn’t holding you up, you would have melted into the carpet. But he’s there with firm hands and a gentle grip. Helping you out of your dress, he lays it on the chair in the corner. Coming back, he admires the white lace bra and panty set that accentuates your body shape.

His lips come back to yours, tasting your desire and wantonness with every kiss. Wrapping an arm around you, he guides you to lay back on the bed while maintaining the liplock. He kisses down your neck and across your collarbone while his hand unclasps your bra and removes it from your body.

Laying a kiss between your breasts draws a quick inhale from you. You can tell he’s proud of himself when he looks up at you while he licks one pert nipple, the other between his thumb and forefinger. He sucks on it as if he could siphon gold from your tits. Switching to the other, he gives it the same attention.

The noises that come from him as he plays with your breasts are enough to make you shiver. He whimpers when you moan and throw your head back. He groans when he kisses down your belly, stopping to look up at you before he plants a quick kiss upon your covered mound.

He pulls down your panties at such an agonizing speed. Nick has to squeeze his dick through his pants when a string of your wetness stretches from your pussy to your underwear. Spreading your legs apart, he feasts on the view of your lips opening like a flower before him.

He wanted to go slow, he really did. But once he flattens his tongue and licks up from your entrance to your swollen nub, he is mesmerized by the taste of you. He goes back and forth between sucking on your button and lapping up whatever nectar drips from you. You can feel yourself inching toward the finish line, and he is right there to talk you through it.

“Fuck...you taste like Heaven...that’s right, baby...let go and cum for me like a good girl,” he commands between licks and kisses.

You’re nothing if not a good listener and seconds later, your walls are clamping around his fingers. You’ve never cum like this before and it washes over you like a warm waterfall. He removes his fingers from your wet opening and sucks them clean before moving up the bed to kiss you.

Tasting yourself on his tongue, you are beyond turned on. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he sits up to pull it off. Running your hands over his chest, you pull at the button of his pants.

“Use your words,” he urges, his hands stopping yours from moving further.

“Need to feel you, Nick. Please fuck me,” you beg, all thoughts gone from your head.

“There’s my good girl,” he replies, standing up from the bed to undress fully. Climbing back on the bed, he kneels between your legs. He strokes himself slowly, eight inches of uncut cock staring you in the face. He squeezes the base and you can tell he is just as excited as you are.

You crook a finger at him and once again, he is on top of you. With nothing between you, you’re impossibly close and you only want to get closer. Your hand soon finds his erection and he hisses at the contact, groaning when you stroke him.

He leans on one forearm while his other hand guides his tip between your lips, gathering some of your slick before entering you. You both groan loudly once he is fully settled inside you.

“You good, baby?” he asks, anxious to start moving his hips.

“God, yes. Fuck me, Nicky,” you plead, feeling so full when you arch your back.

Foregoing words, Nick retracts his hips and thrusts into you. The wet squelch as he fucks you is music to your ears, just like the way he tells you how beautiful you are in between kisses. He uses your breasts as handholds while he pummels your snatch.

The way he looks into your eyes while he plunges inside you excites you so much that you don’t even notice when a tear escapes your eye. He kisses it away, trailing his lips to your neck where he sucks at your pulse point. At this point, you couldn't care less about a hickey. You just want to be his.

Your next orgasm surprises you and you squeeze his cock from the inside, coating him in your cream.

“Good girl, coming all over my fucking dick. Feels so fucking good when you tighten around me like that. You are taking me so well, Gumdrop. Yes. You. Are,” he grunts, punctuating the last three words with deep thrusts inside you.

Flipping you over so you are on top, Nick grabs your hips and you start to ride him. You bounce on his cock like it’s the last time you get to fuck. By the mewls coming from him, you are doing it just right.

You feel another climax on its way, slowly building up in your core. Nick swats your hand away when you go to rub your clit. He licks his thumb and massages your neglected pearl until you are unable to hold it in any longer. The dual stimulation is too much and you gush, soaking Nick’s abdomen and your thighs.

“Oh fuck, baby. Such a good fucking girl for me. You must want my cum inside you with the way you’re...riding my dick. Shit, baby, I’m gonna blow. Where do you want it, baby?” he asks, you reply by doubling down on your hip motions.

“Right there, Nicky. Cum inside me, please,” you implore breathlessly.

“Yes, baby. Gonna cum for you, gonna fill you up so good. Ugh, fuck, here it comes,” he whimpers, his hold on your hips so tight to keep you close to him.

You feel every twitch of his cock, his muscles pulling taut across his arms and chest as he floods your canal. Your name on his lips as he comes down is a badge of honor. Yes, you did that shit.

He pulls you down to kiss him, shallow thrusts keeping him semi-hard before he pulls out. He lays you down next to him, cuddling you close and kissing your forehead. You start to fall asleep but you can feel Nick moving off the bed. Your hand shoots out to grab for him, but he shushes you.

He goes into the bathroom and you hear the faucet running before he comes out with a wet washcloth. Wiping down your sensitive folds, he takes care of you so well. Putting the washcloth back in the bathroom, he comes back and helps you get under the covers and he snuggles in with you.

With your arms and legs entangled in one another, you drift off peacefully.

January 22nd – January 26th 2024

The days before the wedding are spent enjoying the island with Nick, Dee, and Matt before the other guests arrive. More than once, Dee has cornered both you and Nick, asking embarrassing questions. You both say nothing, feigning ignorance even though Nick has moved into your cottage over the week, abandoning the cottage that he was supposed to share with his parents.

That being said, once his parents do finally make it to the island, he doesn’t even try and act like he isn’t staying with you. The smile on his father’s face says it all, he approves. His mother is far too preoccupied with getting everyone together for the wedding rehearsal to notice anything.

That is until she catches you and Nick making heart eyes at each other as you stand in for the Bride and Groom in rehearsal. Yes, it was a bit too soon to be playing Wedding Day with a man whose divorce is less than 100 days old.

But when you know, you know.

At dinner, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and you don’t notice Nick following after you. Before you can enter the ladies’ room, a hand on your arm pulls you into the nearby gender-neutral bathroom.

You turn around and are met with hungry eyes before he descends upon you. Turning you around to face the mirror, he puts your hands on the sink and sinks to his knees, his hands roaming under your dress and up your legs until he pulls down your panties. He pulls out his already hard dick and pumps himself a few times before sliding inside you.

“Don’t fucking move, baby. Keep looking at yourself in the mirror, and your hands stay right where they are. You thought you could get away with teasing me in this tight fucking dress,” he breathes, “I want you to watch yourself while I fuck you til you’re dripping for me like the good girl I know you can be.”

When he places his hands on your hips, he begins a steady pace. He watches you in the mirror as your orgasm takes you over without warning. You squeeze him, your walls fluttering and coaxing him to follow you when you cover him in your juices.

But he surprises you when he pulls out and pulls your panties back up. When you turn around to ask why, he only kisses you and whispers in your ear, “I’ll get mine later, don’t you worry.” That only fills you with a little dread, your legs still wobbly as Nick tucks himself away and straightens his outfit. “Can’t have them knowing I just got my dick wet, right baby? See you back out there.”

He exits the bathroom and leaves you with slick running down your legs and your brain falling out of your ears. And he’s worried about you being the death of him?

You straighten yourself and use the bathroom for its intended purpose. Once back in the banquet hall, you pray to any god who will listen that you don’t look like you just got some dick. You see Nick and Matt in a conversation like he’d been here the whole time. When Dee asks why you look flustered, you lie and say you’re just a bit tired.

Nick overhears you talking to Dee and interjects himself into the conversation, “Why don’t we go get some fresh air? Don’t worry, Sis, I’ll take care of her.” Helping you out of your chair, you both say goodnight to those at dinner.

Nick takes you back to the cottage, pulling you behind him as he walks out onto the balcony. Crashing his lips to yours, his hands scrunch up the fabric of your dress until you feel the night air chill your skin.

“Hands on the railing, baby,” he says, peeling your soaked panties from you.

Nick’s pushing inside you in the next breath and it’s like he belonged there all along. Holding onto your hips, he begins his onslaught. All you can do is hold yourself up and be happy that no one is walking down this road because fuck they would be able to see you getting absolutely railed without abandon.

Your grip on the railing is faltering as he slams into you and he takes pity on you. He uses the grip on your hips to pull you back so you sit on his lap while he sits in the wicker chair. He moves you up and down on his dick while saying the filthiest things to you.

Once your climax hits, his pace falters and he thrusts up into you. His tip hits your cervix as he pumps you full. He holds you against him and kisses up your neck as you lay back on his chest. For a few moments, all you both can do is breathe and caress each other.

His dick slips free of you and you feel his load dripping from your thoroughly used hole.

“Come with me back to Virginia,” he whispers, surprising both of you, “Don’t say no just yet. Think about it. We don’t leave for a couple of days. I have not been this happy in a very long while and I think I make you happy too. Just think about it, Gumdrop.”

A million things go through your head at the thought of giving up your life in New Jersey. This was a big step after only a week of playing house. Your brain comes up with so many what-ifs and reasons to not leap. But then one thought sticks, and you smile.

When you know, you know.

January 27th, 2024 – Wedding Day

You were never a big crier, but you shed many tears watching your childhood best friend marry the love of her life. It fills you with hope that everything does happen for a reason. While listening to their vows, you wonder if you could ever make that type of commitment. At that moment, Nick squeezes your hand and you smile up at him. Like he could read your mind, he seems to always know what to do to give you comfort.

Then again, he has known you most of his life. And when you think about it, it has always been him. A distant memory replays in your head of him simply putting a band-aid on your skinned knee when you were nine and he was twelve. Even then, he was there for you with a smile and a friendly hug.

The wedding reception is an all-out party but you expect nothing less from the Fowlers. The music, the food, and the atmosphere are perfect. Dee enjoys herself and is just happy to be married to Matt. And you are so happy for her, to see her without a care in the world.

Nick focuses on you the entire night, making sure you are comfortable and that you have everything you need. You sit in his lap, effectively confirming any rumors that may have spread about you two. His hand on your knee is warm and you want to sneak out of here and take him to the nearest closet. But he doesn’t let you move an inch once he has you in his clutches.

The wedding photographer snaps a pic of you squealing when Nick plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek. The guests around you simultaneously swoon and groan, depending on their relationship status. Not that you care, you had your man. That’s all that matters.

After the wedding, you and Nick sneak off to a secluded area of the beach to look up at the stars. Taking off your shoes, you don’t mind the sand between your toes. You spend most of the night on the beach, just enjoying each other’s company under the moon.

You are lucky enough to see a few shooting stars, and you can’t stop yourself from making a wish or two. Wondering if Nick made a wish, you open your mouth to ask him but close it just as quickly. You know his wish already and only you could make it come true.

Coming back to the cottage is bittersweet. The last night of your vacation is spent lying naked with Nick. No sex, just intimate cuddling. You loved how safe you felt in his arms, and you couldn’t deny yourself this feeling.

January 28th, 2024

You’re nervous all morning and Nick tries his best to keep your mind off leaving the island. But all you want to do is spend all day in bed with him.

Saying goodbye to Dee that day is full of teary-eyed hand-holding, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You hug her mother and father and thank them for inviting you.

Nick drives you to the ferry, thinking for all the world that this is the last time he will see you. But like you continue to do, you surprise him when he’s helping you with your bags.

“So, I have some things to clear up in Jersey, but I was thinking Valentine’s Day is just a couple of weeks away. You can come to my place and we can spend some time together. I may not be ready to move 7 hours away just yet. But I know that I am not ready to be without you. I want you to know that I want this, whatever this is,” you admit, gesturing between the two of you.

“I can be amenable to that. On one condition,” he offers, taking your hands in his.

“And what is that one condition, Nicky?” you press, wondering what else he could want or if your terms weren’t enough.

“When we are with each other again, I get to call you my girl. That’s it. Be mine, and all that?” he laughs, watching as the frown lines on your forehead disappear and a smile grows on your face.

“You had me for a second, Nicky. But, why wait? I’m all yours already. Plus, I’ve already planted my flag in your back pocket,” you tease, snaking your hand around to goose him.

“So that would make me your man, then? And you’re my girl. Makes me wanna ask what made you decide to try this with me?” he hesitates, half wanting an answer and the other half just happy that you said yes.

“Hey, like I always say,” you start, wrapping your arms around his neck, “When you know, you know.”

END…?

A/N: All of the places in this story are real, this is not an advertisement for Ocracoke Island, NC btw. I just loved vacationing here so much, that I wanted to use it in a story lol.

**Tag List** (since I never wrote for Nick, I didn't know who else to tag)

@gummydummy19 @blackwood4stucky

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

My BINGO Card:

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blueiscoool · 5 months ago

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Bronze Bust of Roman Emperor Caligula Rediscovered After 200 Years

The small bronze statue, which was unearthed at Herculaneum, had been missing for two centuries

A curator in England has rediscovered a tiny Roman-era bronze bust of the emperor Caligula, which had been missing for some 200 years.

The artifact was unearthed in the mid-18th century at Herculaneum, the ancient town preserved under volcanic ash since Mount Vesuvius’ eruption in 79 C.E. Then, Horace Mann, the British ambassador to Italy, acquired the five-inch-tall statue and gave it to his friend, Horace Walpole, the British writer and politician.

The two friends even exchanged letters about the 2,000-year-old bronze, according to a statement from Strawberry Hill House, Walpole’s Gothic home in London.

“I gaze on it from morning to night. It is more a portrait than any picture I ever saw,” Walpole wrote in 1767. “The hair and ears seem neglected, to heighten the expression of the eyes, which are absolutely divine, and have a wild melancholy in them, that one forebodes might ripen to madness.”

Caligula is infamous for his eccentric and cruel behavior. Legend has it that the emperor was so obsessed with his horse, Incitatus, that he tried to make the animal a consul, though this rumor is likely untrue. His reign, which began in 37 C.E., was erratic. He was assassinated after only four years in power.

Today, only seven other small-scale bronze busts of the emperor are known to exist. When Walpole died in 1797, his Roman bust changed hands several times, with some owners mistaking the visage for Alexander the Great.

Silvia Davoli, a curator at Strawberry Hill, found the lost bust in the family collection of Sir John Henry Schroder, who had purchased it in the 1890s, per the statement.

As a curator of Walpole’s former estate, Davoli was familiar with the politician’s correspondence with Mann and knew of the statue’s existence. She had also seen a drawing of it, which Walpole had commissioned from the artist John Carter. When she came across the bronze in Schroder’s collection, she was able to match it to Carter’s drawing.

Schroder doesn’t appear to have known what the statue was or where it came from. According to Strawberry Hill, the family’s collection catalogs refer to the piece as a “possible Renaissance bronze of a youth.”

“They had no idea it was Caligula,” Davoli tells the Guardian’s Richard Brooks. “I was so happy when I finally saw the bronze and made the link.”

Because the statue hadn’t become discolored over time, experts had previously assumed it dated to the 16th century. However, a recent analysis of the metal confirmed that the bronze is, in fact, ancient.

Dietrich Boschung, an expert on imperial Roman iconography at the University of Cologne in Germany, has since examined photos of the statue.

“I’m convinced it is Caligula,” Boschung tells the Guardian. For him, the statue’s piercing silver eyes are a dead giveaway—a common feature of Roman-era bronzes depicting emperors. He also finds it feasible that the piece was once at Herculaneum. “Around that time, many Roman bronzes were found there,” he adds.

To celebrate the discovery, Strawberry Hill will include the ancient bust in its upcoming exhibition, “The Art of Treasure Hunting.” Visitors can check out the tiny Caligula statue for themselves when the show opens on June 28.

By Julia Binswanger.

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theendorisit · 5 months ago

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magnus protocol season 1 part 1 praise and credits

all right my lovelies, we are at our Magnus protocol hiatus and you know what that means?

Credit where credit is due, we do not get wonderful stories without wonderful storytellers, and storytellers don’t get to tell stories without the people working tirelessly to bring the story to the audience. So thanks to everyone at Rusty Quill who makes these stories possible! I also want to shout praises to our part 1 guest writers: Graeme Patrick, Cole Weavers, Jamie Petronis, Shaun Pellington. Stellar work everyone!

All credits and my thoughts on each episode are below, so SPOILERSSSSSSSSS, you have been warned.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 1 – First Shift

CAT1RBC5257-12052022-09012024 Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret [Email] CAT23RAB2155-10042022-09012024 Transformation (eyes) -/- Trespass [chat log]

Written by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J Newall

Script Editing by Alexander J Newall and Jonathan Sims 

Thoughts: stunner of a first episode, juggling meeting literally everyone and setting up the huge diversity of case styles we will be seeing. Also shout out to Alex for making sure we got such a banger of a line: ‘Canaries should stay above ground’.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 2 – Making Adjustments

CAT3RBC1567-23092022-18012024 Transformation (full) -/- dysmorphic [video call]

Written by Alexander J Newall

Script Editing by Jonathan Sims 

Thoughts: Like walking down a stone spiral staircase, you never know what the next thing is going to be (but you know it'll be dark and make your stomach drop a little). Enjoying the twist on accurate CS terminology (yes, contractors ARE called Externals).

The Magnus Protocol Episode 3 – Putting Down Roots

CAT2C8175-03042009-22012024 Infection (full body) -/- arboreal [journal entry]

Written by Graeme Patrick (for more of his work visit https://www.aintslayednobody.com)

Script Editing with Additional Materials by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J Newall

Thoughts: absolutely now a fan favourite, compelling gruesome body horror, with an intriguing backstory. The slow unravelling of a mind. Brings to mind horrors like Kafka's The Metamorphosis and the film The Ruins (not because they are similar stories necessarily, but, well, vibes). Definitely need more Graeme Patrick in my life!

The Magnus Protocol Episode 4 – Taking Notes

CAT3C7494-19111831-29012024 Collection (blood) -/- musical [letter]

Written by Cole Weavers (for more of his work visit https://www.thetownwhispers.com)

Script Editing with Additional Materials by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J Newall

Thoughts: A curious tale, that gets more curious in the re-hearing. Sure, an instrument plays the player. But how was the teacher driven wild BEFORE the pupil got the special violin? Maybe the chaos was from him, and the violin was a conduit? Got to hear more Cole stories! Dear grandpa Augustus does always tell such lovely stories, if Tim Fearon can narrate my life, that would be great thx. Also - need a promotion? get your windows NT to tattle on your boss! Lena giving Gertrude vibes with the killing-my-assistants theme.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 5 – Personal Screening

CAT2RB2377-10012023-05022024 Disappearance (undetermined) -/- Invitation [internet blog]

Written by Alexander J Newall and Jamie Petronis (for more of his work visit https://www.thecellarletters.com/)

Script Editing with Additional Materials by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J Newall.

Thoughts: I really love this one, it is such a brilliant thrilling story that genuinely has me shouting 'WHAT? WHAT HAPPENED? I need more details!!' - which is a hallmark of all good mysteries honestly. Will be on the hunt for more Jamie stories.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 6– Introductions

CAT1RB4824-09022024-12022024 Injury (needles) -/- intimidation [999 call]

Written by Jonathan Sims

Script Editing with Additional Materials by Alexander J Newall

Thoughts: Needles is a lame tryhard. I love him. Also Alice referring to Lena as 'Big Bird' is hilarious. Also, yay, Celia!

The Magnus Protocol Episode 7 – Give and Take

CAT2RC3338-03022016-12022024 Agglomeration (miscellany) -/- congregation [email]

Written by Alexander J Newall

Script Editing with Additional Materials by Jonathan Sims

Thoughts: I really hope that Mr Clayton turns up again. As the remains of a crime scene. Also, worldbuilding: hello Oxford. hello people in what is essentially an antique shop repeating the same phrases. Getting déjà vu. And Gwen, you know the Civil Service is really easy to move around, right? You can get a secondment, a loan, a transfer, there's internal job adverts... are you sure you want a promotion?

The Magnus Protocol Episode 8 – Running on Empty

CAT2RBC3366-12072023-28022024 Architecture (liminal) -/-hunger [coursework]

Written by Alexander J Newall

Script Editing with Additional Materials by Jonathan Sims

Thoughts: I feel like I just experienced a TMA/Backrooms crossover and I can dig it. Interesting repetition of ... repetition as a theme ('people' repeating phrases over and over). I like this one a lot, I feel that it communicates a great deal about the way this universe (or at least, its spooky experiences) works. Also, I really really hope Gee Gee is a villain in this story, just so Sue Sims can be the tiny cackling witch she was destined to be.

Interestingly, the official transcript has the name Hostile Workplace - an early title perhaps?

The Magnus Protocol Episode 9 – Rolling With It

CAT3RB3354-14101998-08032024 Dice (bone) -/- fate [Magnus Statement]

Written by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J Newall

Thoughts: This is a fun one, and does put an interesting twist on the idea of owning an artefact, that one could compel others to take the negative consequences. Can't decide if the ending (oh one last time) is too predictable - but definitely immensely satisfying. Also, I'm not sure if the truck/diner death is a direct reference to a final destination movie ending, but I noticed some similarities.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 10 – Saturday Night

CAT1RB2275-06082021-09032024 Mascot (kids) -/- murder [TV interview]

Written by Jonathan Sims

Script Edited with additional material by Alexander J Newall

Thoughts: appropriately named! The sound design for this episode gives me intensely-visual mental images of the TV interview, and I really want a YouTube video unpacking the Bonzo Butcher and his crimes, timelines, arrest, everything.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 11 – Marked

CAT23RC5246-06012020-11032024 Tattoo (corpse) -/- compulsion [email exchange]

Written by Jonathan Sims

Script Edited with additional material by Alexander J Newall  

Thoughts: Shirley Jackson Susan Hill called, she wants to know when she can have her haunted typewriter back.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 12 – Getting Off

CAT1RB4728-09032024-13032024 Mascot (kids) -/- frenzy [insurance claim]

Written by Alexander J Newall 

Script Edited with additional material by Jonathan Sims  

Thoughts: Possibly my favourite so far. Alex is bringing the gory horror and it's perfect. Excellent descriptive storytelling - opening a guy's head like a book is a visual I did not know I needed.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 13 – Futures

CAT3RB4622-17092023-14032024 Gambling (application) -/- murder [voicemail]

Written by Alexander J Newall

Script Edited with additional material by Jonathan Sims

Thoughts: Can someone get Alex in as a writer for Black Mirror? The series might actually get good as a result. Also can someone start a series tally for died in a hospital bed due to wickedly cool sound design? Thanks. Death by personal adjustment is giving TMA season 5 Mortal Garden vibes.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 14 – Pet Project

CAT1RB4426-01081995-15032024 Transformation (snake) -/-horde

Written by Shaun Pellington (https://www.imdb.com/name/nm14461505/)

Script Edited with additional material by Alexander J Newall and Jonathan Sims

Thoughts: Sometimes well-written characters come and punch you in the gut. Character writing isn't always prioritised in horror, as the characters can just be the vehicle through which horror happens. But the transition from report to last message to dad really hit hard, and the story was creepy af. Shaun writes podcasts and voice acts, so check out his stuff.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 15 – Well Run

CAT1RB-6451-22062023-22032024 Hunt (aristocratic) -/- compulsion

Written by Alexander J Newall

Script Edited with additional material by Jonathan Sims

 Thoughts: the real horror is being forced to be the monster. Yet you had a choice, you chose the monster, before anyone else could. I will always praise the sound team, though it is amazing how a shot through a window also kinda sounds like a brick wall falling down. I enjoyed Alice's run-in with the drowned woman, great writing, sound design and authentically chaotic. Also, let us all simp for Lady Mowbray, purely because it disgusts Jonny.

The official transcript also has an alternate name Good Show

I know exactly what Jonny means about disgust for the aristocracy, but his reaction is too funny to not do it.

PSA - nellie the elephant was dropped as a CPR technique bc you need to depress a chest by 2 inches to pump someone's heart, and compressions were too shallow when people used that song. Another One Bites The Dust and Stayin' Alive are better rhythms to use.

 The Magnus Protocol Episode 16 – Anti-social

CAT1RB1565-30102023-25032024 Tattoo(influencer)-/- Cardiac

Written by Alexander J Newall

Script Edited with additional material by Jonathan Sims

Thoughts: I genuinely really like this case and the character. Sure, cringy, but she's young, overexcited, and wants attention, like every other human being on the planet. I think she's quite a compelling character to follow, as she trips headlong into abject misery. Spectacular sound design on the death scene.

Also, a lot of people were complaining about the slang, but given the load of cringy slang that the fandom made the cast read out: this episode was 100% deserved. You want them to call their characters dummy thicc? You made your cringy slang bed, now lie in it (I say with love, affection, and sarcasm).

I am aware part of the complaints were that non-AAVE characters were using AAVE - but unfortunately, that is how real life, and real slang use, works. For example, the word 'cool' meaning good, has been around since the 1930's, and originated from Black Americans in the Jazz scene. Now, everyone uses it. I can't comment on whether this is good or right (and I don't think the show does either), only that the show's use/misuse of slang is accurate to real life.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 17 – Saved Copy

CAT2RC1147-30111997-04042024 Doppleganger (interdimensional) -/- murder

Written by Alexander J Newall

Script Edited with additional material by Jonathan Sims

Thoughts: Alex and Jonny are very good at twisting existing formats. Evil Twin/Doppleganger? Oh he'll want to kill you, replace you, drain your life, steal your existen- oh he wants a friend to play in his murder dungeon? That's new! Also, the receptionist and orchid-pervert - stop being a tease Alex!

The Magnus Protocol Episode 18 – Solo Work

CAT1RC2374-20032024-10042024 Memory (derelict) -/- compulsion

Written by Jonathan Sims

Script Edited with additional material by Jonathan Sims

Thoughts: How can a body speak without lungs? Autopsy reports are some of my favourite horror (see The Mortuary Assistant game and the autopsy of Jane Doe film). A house full of fog and forgotten poems.

Also, I got the credit details from the official transcript, so I'm not sure if Jonny writing and editing his own script is an error or deliberate, but it is kind of funny on an episode called 'Solo Work'.

Everyone complains about the AQA Anthology (2004) we had to read for English GCSE, but I loved it intensely.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 19 – Hard Reset

CAT13RBC1137-21031684-11042024 Transformation (canine) -/- growth (Crystalline)

Written by Alexander J Newall

Script Edited with additional material by Jonathan Sims

Thoughts: Alex writes the word 'Christendom' in a story and is immensely happy about it. I get the deep suspicion that Alex and Jonny have 'Edward-Kun'-ed the boys into a horrific electronic chimera a la Full Metal Alchemist. Excellent world-building. Wonder if the 'Protocol' is going to be 'yeah, we find people acting sus, and we teach them what the second part of 'fuck around and find out' actually entails'. Also COLIN ISN'T DEAD YET. YAYYYYY.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 20 – Social Stigma

CAT1RAB2534-12042024-12042024 Transformation (tattoo) -/- Social Media (influencer)

Written by Jonathan Sims

Script Edited with additional material by Alexander J Newall

Thoughts: Talking to a supernatural person... in person. I love it. Interesting dialogue on parasocial relationships and Gwen trying and failing to be an authority figure is hilarious (I am very similar!). Gwen's playlist is just RESPECT covered by Aretha Franklin on repeat. She can't get no respect ever.

Created by Jonathan Sims (@jonnywaistcoat)  and Alexander J Newall (@rqbossman) Directed by Alexander J Newall  Executive Producers April Sumner, Alexander J Newall, Jonathan Sims, Dani McDonough, Linn Ci, and Samantha F.G. Hamilton Associate Producers Jordan L. Hawk, Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, Cetius d’Raven, and Megan Nice Produced by April Sumner    Featuring (in order of appearance) Billie Hindle as Alice Dyer

Kazeem Tosin Amore as Teddy Vaughn Anusia Battersby as Gwendolyn Bouchard (@anouchard) Shahan Hamza as Samama Khalid Sarah Lambie as Lena Kelley Alexander J Newall as Norris Jonathan Sims as Chester Kate Sketchley as Daria Jenny Haufek as Therapist

Tim Fearon as Augustus Paul Schmidt as Klaus

Hattie Quinlan as Operator 1 Harry Roebuck as Needles Tom Park as Operator 2 Joe Bence as Police Operator Lowri Ann Davies as Celia Ripley

Jon Gracey as Gerry Keay Sue Sims as Gertrude Robinson

Catherine Luff as Geraldine Hardy Steve Newman as Nigel Dickerson

Uncredited as Mr. Bonzo Beth Eyre as [Error]

Zena Carswell as Answerphone Euan Shedden as DarrienEp

Jesse Hawke as Voicemail Danny Scarre as Caterer Ellie Dickens as Lady Mowbray Yanick Ghanty as Luke Dyer Lara Sawalha as Drowning Victim

Vera Chok as Ink5oul Ki Griffin as Madam E

Sasha Sienna as Georgie Barker (@sashasienna)

----

Dialogue Editor – Lowri Ann Davies Sound Designers – Tessa Vroom, Katharine Seaton, Meg McKellar, Mastering Editor - Catherine Rinella

Music by Sam Jones (orchestral mixes by Jake Jackson) Art by April Sumner    Fabulous work everyone! Can't wait for the next part!

Official transcripts:

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lol-jackles · 2 months ago

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I hope you enjoyed chasing those windmills 😁

I have read that Jared and Jensen are repped by different agencies, Jared is with UTA and Jensen is with Gersh.

How do these agencies rank in Hollywood and what criteria does an actor usually use to choose which agency to work with?

Also, Jared appears to have one rep. (Jason Heyman) and Jensen has three (Alexander Yarosh, Bob Gersh, and Leslie Seibert). Does it mean anything that Jensen has more reps?

I know nothing about how these agencies work (obviously) but am interested to know what the difference is.

I found this information on IMDb Pro, I can’t figure out how to link it I’m sorry.

Those windmills turn out to be faster than they look. Who knew.

The "Big Three of Hollywood” talent agencies are :

Creative Artists Agency (CAA). The biggest and most influential agency in town known for their A-listers and sports clients. Recently bought ICM, an agency mostly known for representing high-tier showrunners/writers like Shona Rhimes, so they're known for (sometimes infamous) packaging bundle. Many agents have left CAA to go to UTA.

William Morris Endeavor (WME). A merge between two agencies in 2009 created another powerhouse agency and upped their game in events management.

United Talent Agency (UTA). Probably the most adaptable agency that includes news broadcasters and comedy clients. UTA likes to boast they represent the "most watched and celebrated actors in film and television".

The 4th position (X) is a battlefield of competing mid-size agencies looking to possible merge: Gersh Agency, A3 Artists Agency, Paradigm Talent Agency, Agency for Performing Arts (APA), and Verge Agency. Then there are the boutique agencies.

Actors choose the agencies based on the work they want to do i.e. commercials, modeling, or television/movies. Some boutique agencies specialize in children actors so there are age ranges to consider. Talents send in submissions of headshots, resume, and cover letters. As an actor grow, they move to bigger agencies, usually with submissions. In-demand actors generally don't send submissions to the Big Three Agencies, the agencies go to them.

Jared was originally represented by CAA and Jensen was originally represented by WME.

Jared's agent, Jason Heyman, was poached by UTA during a "midnight raid" in 2015 through 2019 and Jared decided to go iwth him to UTA while Melissa McCarthy stayed behind with CAA. Heyman went from a high post at CAA to a partnership at UTA, so for him it’s a promotion.

Jensen either left or was dropped by WME and he signed onto Gersh in 2014, who also represents Danneel. This was probably the best move for him because at WME he was always given to newbie agents (basically interns) to handle his career.

Actors can be repped by more than one agent or agencies in order to handle their brand in different markets as well as minimizing conflict of interests. I’ve known actors who had 3 agents: one for voice work, another for commercial work, and a third for tv/film - maybe that's why Jensen has 3 representatives in one agency? Then there are actors with just 1 agent for the same things but in different markets, maybe that's why Jared has 1 agent that we know of.

#Jared Padalecki #Jensen Ackles #UTA #Gersh #agents

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gloromeien · 25 days ago

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Hellooooo I hope your day is good? Have an ask!

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love! <3

Whoo, my first ask! And from the exceptional and lovely @zenaidamacrouras1, whose fic Monoclonius I'm re-reading right now and loving just as much as the first time. An all-time fave, really, with just the best, sexiest, nerdiest Bucky and the sweetest dad Steve. Check it out if you haven't!

But this of course is supposed to be about *my* fics, so let's get started.

Five Favorite Fics That I've Written:

History Repleating (Or the Proper Care and Feeding of One Steven Grant Rogers), Modern AU, Shrunkyclunks, kidfic

Summary: Captain America!Steve receives a letter from Dr. J.B. Barnes, Brooklyn Historical Society. Except not quite that J.B. Barnes. This leads to Steve and Bucky having a meet cute via Bucky's work as a history teacher. Smut, fluff, and a smidge of angst ensue.

Comments: This one is, IMHO, the best fic I've ever written. Which is not to say it's good, exactly--your mileage may vary--but I don't think I'm ever going to get to this place again. It was winter 2022. We were all just re-emerging from lockdown. I was in the process of caring for my sweet little corgi girl at the end of her life, and I just needed some joy, you know? Something fun to look forward to. I feel like I channeled a lot of those emotions, that grief, into the Steve in this fic. Though it's not a sad fic by any means! It's full of bad jokes and sarcasm and sweetness and found family and people just caring for each other beyond reason. Bucky here is a bright light that comes into Steve's life at just the right moment, that allows him to believe that he could have a real future with someone to love. I really needed to hear that right about then, and so, as Alexander Hamilton sings, I wrote my way out. For that reason and many more, this will always have a special place in my heart.

Last Exit to Brooklyn, Modern AU, Shrunkyclunks, SoulMark

Summary: When Steve Rogers emerged from the ice, he wound up not only in a whole new century, but also with a brand-new soul mark. Knowing that the person he was destined to be with might be just around the corner made it easier for him to settle into a future where happily ever after was a sure thing. Until the Romanian drummer of a 'popular in Europe' heavy metal band, and freight car of personal baggage, come crashing into his life...

Comments: This fic is a confluence of so many things I really, really, really love. Soul mark AUs, for one. I looooooooove those. But I only wanted to write one if I felt like I could bring something new to the table. Once I hit on this particular idea, I knew I had to write it. Also, Tommy Lee!Seb kept me up nights, friends. I loved his look in that so much. As a teen, I had a whole hair metal phase. And it was a fun way to pay a little tribute to Seb's Romanian heritage, so... anyway. I particularly adore some of my Romanian OCs in this--two of them being not so veiled versions of Nadja and Laszlo in What We Do in the Shadows, LOL. Feeling kind of weird about tooting my own horn here, being Canadian and all (Sorry. Sorry. Sorry?) But anyway, they were all really fun to write, even if I think the fic ended up being a little too long and more angsty than I expected. A good thing? A bad thing? You can decide for yourself. ;)

Cut Him Out in Little Stars, Medieval AU, kidfic, arranged marriage

Summary:

Two Houses, both alike in dignity In fair Venora, where we lay our scene

Three years after a brutal, bloody war that saw their formerly friendly queendoms at odds for the first time in history, Prince Steven Rogers of House Grant seeks to solidify the peace between Lehigh and Venora through an alliance--marriage with Prince James Barnes of House Buchanan, his childhood friend turned unexpected enemy. But after years as the Fist of Hydra and a long recovery from brainwashing and torture, Bucky isn't in a place to marry anyone, let alone someone he doesn't even remember. Stubborn to the core, afflicted by tragic losses, and still half in love with someone who might only be a memory, Steve and his family journey to Lynbrooke, the capital of Venora, to attempt to end the tension between their queendoms, and perhaps heal his wounded heart.

Comments: My least-viewed fic by a wide margin, but one that I really love. Playing with the big tropes can be so much fun, and arranged marriage is one of the biggest and messiest. I also rewatched Seb in Kings right before writing this, and it started as a crossover between the world of that series and the idea of arranged marriage. But eventually it took its own path. I have a total soft spot for the Bucky in this one. Probably the most broken I've ever written him. I shy away from Winter Soldier recovery fics--love reading them, will never write one myself--and this is the closest I'll probably get to that. One of the reasons it's close to my heart is because I feel like they really earn their happy ending in this one.

A Slaying in Scarlet, a LOTR Mystery

Summary: On the eve of Aragorn’s coronation, Legolas and Elrohir are charged with investigating a brutal murder at the Citadel.

Comments: My AO3 account is split into two eras. From about 2002-2010-ish, I was heavily involved in the LOTR fandom, specifically writing Legolas/Elrohir, but also a few other pairings, including some OOC pairings along the way. After that, I went off to be a romance writer for a little while (and yes, I'm going to shamelessly plug my Stoker & Bash mystery romance series, because I'm fucking proud of them.) Then watching FatWS knocked me for six, and here we are, all Stucky, all the time. All this to say that my early LOTR work, I am certain, is not good. I have not re-read anything in ages, nor will I ever, most likely. But it was in writing those fics that I found a bit of my voice, and they gave me courage as a writer, and so I couldn't leave them off this list completely. This one is a Sherlock Holmes type deal, because I am also obsessed with mysteries. Hopefully it stands up a little bit. Buyer beware.

A Place to Rest and Remember Yourself (In My Arms), Shrunkyclunks

Summary: It's 2015, and Steve is living in a post-publicly coming out world. His every move is scrutinized in the tabloids and on social media, he's still wrestling with life in the 21st century, and the paparazzi never give him any peace. Making friends who aren't co-workers is practically impossible, let along dating. His solution? Have a regular, no-strings 'arrangement' with one of Natasha's honeypots. Bucky is a former spy and adventurer who used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D., but left for *reasons*. Having just gotten his heart ripped to shreds by a traitorous ex, he finds the idea of a discreet, 'with benefits' arrangement with his teenage-years crush very, very appealing. But you know what they say about what happens the minute you stop looking for love...

Comments: I wanted to write something quick and fun and smutty as hell for Stucky Week 2023. Instead... *sighs* You'll note that this ended up being 18 freaking chapters long. Why am I like this? I wish I knew.

One of my fic-writing missions is to give Steve Rogers the ending he deserves. The MCU did not treat him or his PTSD right--this is well-established in both fandom and a ton of metas more insightful than anything I could ever write on the subject. But where I feel like I maybe can address this a little is in fic. My aim here was to just spoil Steve rotten. To give him the literal world back, in the form of a Bucky who has serious wanderlust. It was also so much fun to play with Doctor Strange and the whole Sanctum Sanctorum stuff, Layla and Marc, Darcy of course, Nat and Sam. The 'love shield' Steve throws up in front of the press was inspired by Harry Windsor's PR move from many moons ago. My favorite part, about this fic, about writing fics in general, is when love just kind of happens to two people who aren't really paying attention, and suddenly it's everything, and they have to conform their lives to this new gorgeous reality. Anyway that's what I'm going for in every fic I write.

This was more talking about myself than any Canadian should do in a month, let alone a day. I need to go lie down. I don't love tagging other authors in these things, but if @burberrycanary, @bluesimplicity73, @musette22, @leveragehunters, or @dontcallmebree haven't done this yet and feel like it, I would love to read your thoughts on your incredible fics. And you, readers, please don't miss any of their tremendous work. Take it from me, their amazing stories (and Zenaida's) keep many a monster at bay when the night is dark and full of terrors. Big love to everyone out there sharing their creative endeavors with the world! <3

#stucky #steve x bucky #ao3 #shrunkyclunks #bucky barnes #steve rogers #ao3 fanfic #stevebucky #captain america #modern bucky barnes #five favorite fics #self recs

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whencyclopedia · 2 months ago

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Epicurus

Epicurus (341 BCE – 270 BCE) was an ancient Greek philosopher, the founder of the Epicurean school in Athens, who taught that "Pleasure is the principle and end to a happy life." He was a prolific writer, amassing 37 volumes, but unfortunately, only fragments and four letters remain. His teachings would influence many who followed such as Lucretius of Rome and his On the Nature of Things, and the Utilitarians Jeremy Bentham and J.S. Mill.

Early Life

Most of what historians know of Epicurus has been gathered from the writings of others. In 341 BCE Epicurus was born, according to most sources, on the small island of Samos located off the coast of Asia Minor in the Aegean Sea. His father Neocles was a schoolteacher. Neocles and his wife Chaerestrate were members of the Athenian poor – the Klirouchi – who emigrated to Samos from Athens after they had been offered land there. Initially, Epicurus was taught at home by his father but later was schooled by Amphilus (also known as Pamphilus), a Platonist, and Nausephanes, a follower of Democritus, the Atomist. While Epicurus was serving his mandatory two years in the Athenian army, his family was relocated by force to the small Ionian city of Colophon when Perdiccas the old Macedonian commander under Alexander had ordered the removal of all Athenians from Samos.

It was then that Epicurus began to develop his own, unique philosophy. According to sources, at the tender age of 14, he had become disillusioned with his teachers. Like Aristotle, he was an empiricist and believed that all knowledge comes from one's senses. His new philosophy centered primarily on the idea of seeking pleasure and avoiding pain. Although his name and philosophy have been misconstrued and linked to hedonism, his initial teachings were anything but. Obviously, because of his early education, Epicurus's thinking was heavily influenced by the philosophies of Plato, Aristotle, and most of all Democritus. Slowly, his teachings drew a number of dedicated followers, even appealing to both women and slaves. The fact that his schools welcomed everyone brought considerable opposition from others in and around Athens. At the age of 32, he moved to the city of Mytilene on the island of Lesbos, and later, not by choice, he relocated to Lampsacus on the eastern side of the Hellespont, establishing schools at both locations.

#History #270BCE #341BCE #Aristotle #WHE #[#]

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year ago

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Yan!Julius Caesar Random Headcanons

❝ 📜— lady l: I love writing these random headcanons and if you guys want more historical characters feel free to send them! If you're curious about how he is yandere, I posted a general headcanon of him, which you can read by clicking here. Here are historical facts and some additional ones from my head. I hope you like it and good reading!! ❤️

❝tw: not entirely historically accurate and perhaps murder (?).

Julius Caesar was born in 100 BC and became an important Roman military and political leader. His conquest of Gaul (present-day France) and his successful campaigns contributed to his rise to power.

In 44 BC, Julius Caesar was appointed dictator for life by the Roman Senate. This move sparked concern among senators, leading to a plot that resulted in his assassination on March 15, 44 BC, known as the "Ides of March". The man did not last long as a dictator.

Julius Caesar played an important role in reforming the Roman calendar. The Julian calendar, introduced in 45 BC, was an adaptation of the lunar calendar to the solar year, forming the basis of the modern Gregorian calendar. So much so that the month of July is in his honor.

Julius Caesar formed a political alliance known as the First Triumvirate with Pompey and Crassus. They shared power and influence to advance their political and personal agendas. It didn't last long because soon they started fighting each other for power. A yandere obsessed with power, I dare say.

Julius Caesar is known for writing "Commentaries on the War in Gaul", also called as Commentarii de Bello Gallico, a series of accounts of his campaigns in the region. These writings offer valuable information about military tactics and life at that time. A great military commander and also a great fanfic writer.

There are reports that say that when he was 30 years old, he passed in front of a statue of Alexander the Great and wept because he had reached the same age and had not conquered as much as the Macedonian King. An inferiority complex, I would say.

The title "Caesar" became a dynastic name used by many Roman leaders after Julius Caesar. The first Roman Emperor, Augustus, was his nephew and adopted heir, and he adopted the title "Caesar" as part of his name. A curious fact is that many Brazilians have Caesar (César in portuguese) in their name.

In addition to his military achievements, Julius Caesar had a deep taste for literature and writing. He frequently exchanged letters and discussed poetry with various intellectuals of the day. A true cultured man and a renaissance ahead of time.

The death of Julius Caesar was one of the key events that contributed to the fall of the Roman Republic and the subsequent rise of the Roman Empire. His legacy has had a lasting impact on history and politics. Our man is credited as one of the greatest military commanders of all time.

Rumor has it that Julius Caesar had a secret superstition of avoiding black cats, believing them to bring bad luck. This contrasted with his image as a fearless leader. Poor kitty, so many powerful men were afraid of cats.

#history #yandere historical characters #yandere julius caesar #yandere julius caesar headcanons #julius caesar #headcanons #yandere headcanons #yandere history

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yr-obedt-cicero · 5 months ago

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hi! New here. I have a question! I heard Hamilton had violet-blue mixed eyes. Do you think he had Alexandria's genesis? I mean, it's the closest to what I think it could be. Since violet eyes aren't naturally accusing and are generally the result of a mutation.

This has actually been a theory of mine for a while now! As always, we may never know for certain. But Alexandria Genesis was not discovered until around the year 2013, [x] thus of course, the people of the colonial days would not know of any proper terminology for this rare sort of diagnosis; but there are many accounts of Hamilton that would actually describe the symptoms. Fisher Ames account of Hamilton's eye color in the New York Mirror was recorded as;

The same writer remarks that General Hamilton’s eyes were grey. This is a mistake. They were of a deep azure, eminently beautiful, without the slightest trace of hardness or severity, and beamed with higher expressions of intelligence and discernment than any others I saw oscillate in the “human face divine.”

New York Mirror: A Weekly Gazette of Literature and the Fine Arts. United States, G. P. Morris, 1825.

Even though Hamilton's own grandson, Allan McLane, would go on to describe Hamilton's eyes as having taken on a purple shade—His grandfather had died years before his birth, so it is far from a first hand account, yet decently worth noting in case he may have heard it from relatives or friends of Hamilton;

His eyes were a deep blue—almost violet—and he undoubtedly presented the physical appearance of his Scotch father rather than his French mother: His eyes were deep set, his nose long, and of the Roman type, and he had a good chin, the jaw being strong; the mouth firm and moderately large.

Hamilton, Allan McLane. The Intimate Life of Alexander Hamilton: Based Chiefly Upon Original Family Letters and Other Documents, Many of which Have Never Been Published. United States, C. Scribner's sons, 1910.

To go further, other symptoms of Alexandria Genesis were noted in the link above as; “Those who have this mutation will never grow any facial, body, pubic, or anal hair (not including hair on their head, on their ears, noses, eyebrows and eyelashes). Women also do not menstruate, but are fertile”

There are no accounts of Hamilton having any noticable facial hair at all, rather the opposite in fact, where he is often described as having a young, or even feminine appearance. Additionally, if you look closely at many portraits of Hamilton throughout his lifetime, you will notice there are no signs of any facial hair around his portrayed face;

In order; portrait of Alexander Hamilton, by Charles Peale (ca. 1780), Alexander Hamilton portrait, by John Trumbull (ca. 1792), portrait of Alexander Hamilton, by Ezra Ames (ca. 1802)

#amrev #american history #american revolution #alexander hamilton #historical alexander hamilton #history #queries #sincerely anonymous #cicero's history lessons

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gracehosborn · 8 months ago

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The bibliography sounds SO cool! Can you share some of your sources as a kind of sneak peek??

Hey, Anon! Sorry this is so late but I’d be happy to! These citations are a little informal but I’m working on cleaning them up. Here’s some of the primary and secondary materials I’m using (for Volume I of The American Icarus specifically):

Primary Materials

Hamilton, Alexander. The Papers of Alexander Hamilton, vols. 1-2. Ed. Syrett, Harold C. Columbia University Press, 1961-1962 (Digitized in partnership with the National Archives And Records Administration onto Founders Online here).

Laurens, John. The Army Correspondence of Colonel John Laurens, in the Years 1777-8, Now First Printed from Original Letters Addressed to His Father, Henry Laurens, President of Congress, with a Memoir Ed. Simms, William Gilmore. Bradford Club, 1867 (Digitized by the University of South Carolina here).

Washington, George. The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series, vols. 8-15. Ed. Chase, Philander D. Grizzard, Frank E. Jr. Hoth, David R. Lengel, Edward G. University Press of Virginia, 1997-2006 (Digitized in partnership with the National Archives And Records Administration onto Founders Online here).

Secondary Materials

Harris, Michael C. Brandywine: A Military History of the Battle That Lost Philadelphia But Saved America, September 11, 1777 Savas Beatie, 2014

Herrera, Ricardo, A. Feeding Washington's Army: Surviving The Valley Forge Winter of 1778 The University of North Carolina Press, 2022

Newton, Michael E. Alexander Hamilton: The Formative Years Eleftheria Publishing, 2015

Lefkowitz, Arthur, S. George Washington’s Indispensable Men: Alexander Hamilton, Tench Tilghman, And the Aides-De-Camp Who Helped Win American Independence Stackpole Books, 2003

#grace's asks #thanks for the ask!#the american icarus #TAI #alexander hamilton #amrev #writers on tumblr #historical fiction #amwriting #american history #writing community #bibliography #historical research #historical letters #the american revolution #history

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azdoine · 10 months ago

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Who Cares If It's Worth The Candle?

Three days ago I wrote an article on some recent rational stories. I had not read any fiction of this kind since the days of Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres, and, since I constantly heard animated discussions of the merits of the rational writers, I was curious to see what they were like today. The specimens I tried I found disappointing, and I made some rather derogatory remarks in connection with my impressions of the genre in general. To my surprise, this brought me letters of protest in a volume and of a passionate earnestness which had hardly been elicited even by my occasional criticisms of Dath Ilan. Of the thirty-nine letters that have reached me, only seven approve my strictures. The writers of almost all the others seem deeply offended and shocked, and they all say almost exactly the same thing: that I had simply not read the right novels and that I would surely have a different opinion if I would only try this or that author recommended by the correspondent. In many of these letters there was a note of asperity, and one lady went so far as to declare that she would never read my articles again unless I were prepared to reconsider my position. In the meantime, furthermore, a number of other writers have published articles defending the rational story: Alexander Wales, Scott Alexander, Eneasz Brodski and Daystar Eld have all had something to say on the subject—nor has the umbrageous Eliezer Yudkowsky failed to raise his voice.

Overwhelmed by so much insistence, I at last wrote my correspondents that I would try to correct any injustice by undertaking to read some of the authors that had received the most recommendations and taking the whole matter up again. The writer that my correspondents were most nearly unanimous in putting at the top was Mister Domagoj Kurmaić, who was pressed upon me by eighteen people, and the book of his that eight of them were sure I could not fail to enjoy was a time loop caper called Mother of Learning. Well, I set out to read Mother of Learning in the hope of tasting some novel excitement, and I declare that it seems to me one of the dullest books I have ever encountered in any field. The first part of it is all about magic as it is practiced in university and contains a lot of information of the kind that you might expect to find in an encyclopedia article on tabletop role-playing-games. I skipped a good deal of this, and found myself skipping, also, a large section of the conversations between conventional scholastic characters: “Oh, here’s Xvim with the coursework. People may say what they like about coursework, but it does go on all through the quarter and make a backdrop,” etc. There was also a dreadful stock student of the undiagnosed autistic kind, with the embarrassing name of Zorian Kazinski, and, although he was the focal character of the novel, being Mister Domagoj Kurmaić’s version of the necessary Phil Connors prisoner, I had to skip a good deal of him too. In the meantime, I was losing the story, which had not got a firm grip on my attention, but I went back and picked it up and steadfastly pushed through to the end, and there I discovered that the whole point was that phenomenal arcane power can’t fix a broken family or mend estranged relationships. Not a bad idea for a character piece, and O. Henry would have known how to dramatize it in an entertaining tale of five thousand words, but Mister Kurmaić had not hesitated to pad it out to a book of seven hundred thousand, contriving one of those hackneyed cock-and-bull stories where the protagonist’s disability is a secret power, and larding the whole thing with details of training arcs, bits of quaint lore from OSR monster manuals, and the awful whimsical patter of worldbuilding.

I had often heard people say that Domagoj Kurmaić wrote well, and I felt that my correspondents had been playing him as their literary ace. But, really, he does not write very well: it is simply that he is more consciously literary than most of the other rational-story writers and that he thus attracts attention in a field which is mostly on a sub-literary level. In any serious department of fiction, his writing would not appear to have any distinction at all. Yet, commonplace in this respect though he is, he gives an impression of brilliant talent if we put him beside Mister Wertifloke, whose The Waves Arisen was also suggested by several correspondents. Mister Yudkowsky has put himself on record as believing that Mister Wertifloke, as well as Mister Walker and Mister Solguard, writes his novels in "excellent prose," and this throws for me a good deal of light on Mr. Yudkowsky’s opinions as a critic. I hadn't quite realized before, though I had noted his own rather messy style, to what degree he was insensitive to writing. I do not see how it is possible for anyone with a feeling for words to describe the unappetizing sawdust which Mister Wertifloke has poured into his pages as "excellent prose" or as prose at all except in the sense that distinguishes prose from verse. And here again the book is mostly padding. There is the notion that unregulated use of power would lead to climate disaster and the collapse of modern civilization, but this is embedded in the dialogue and doings of a lot of self-replicating warrior-magicians who are even more tedious than those of Mother of Learning.

The enthusiastic reader of rational stories will indignantly object at this point that I am reading for the wrong things: that I ought not to be expecting good writing, characterization, human interest or even atmosphere. He is right, of course, though I was not fully aware of it till I attempted Project Lawful, considered by connoisseurs one of the best books of two of the masters of this school. This tale I found completely unreadable. The story and the writing both showed a surface so wooden and dead that I could not keep my mind on the page. How can you care about liberating those damned who have never really been put in torment, because the writer hasn't any ability of even the most ordinary kind to persuade you to see them or feel them? How can you probe the the depths of the characters who surround the protagonist, because they are all simply fodder for dramatic irony? It was then that I understood that a true connoisseur of this fiction must be able to suspend the demands of his imagination and literary taste and take the thing as an intellectual widget. But how you arrive at that state of mind is what I do not understand.

In the light of this revelation, I feel that it is probably irrelevant to mention that I enjoyed The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere, by Lurina, more than the novels of any of these luminaries. There is a tinge of black magic that gives it a little of the interest of a horror story, and the author has a virtuosity at playing with alternative hypotheses that makes this trick of rational fiction more amusing than it usually is. I want, however, to take up certain points made by some of the above-mentioned articles. Mr. Munchkin informs the non-expert that the rational novel is a kind of game in which the reader of a given story, in order to play properly his hand, should bring his full attention to the stage. Common sense, it seems, is insufficient: the reader must be versed with Bayesian statistics, game theory, artificial intelligence, theory of mind, and modal realism. This may be true, but I shall never qualify. I would rather read golden age detective fiction, which at least does not involve the consumption of hundreds of ill-written blog posts.

An argument leveled by my interlocutors is that contemporary genre fiction has become so vapid, so abstracted or mass-market, that the public have had to take to the rational story as the only department of fiction where verisimilitude survives. This seems to me to involve two fallacies. On the one hand, it is surely not true that “the common authors of today” - to quote Ms. Neocalico - “have often,” in contrast to the authors of the past, “little or no story to tell,” that “they have allowed themselves to be persuaded that continuity is no consideration.” It is true, of course, that urban fantasy and comics - which, I suppose, must be accounted the emptiest going - have their various modern ways of boring and playing tricks on the reader. But how about the dreadful fanon and reinterpretations that one has to get over in HPMOR? The soft-serve science in Worm? The Deus Ex Machina of Unsong, in which the villain surrenders his cause? Is there anything in first-rate popular fiction quite so gratuitous as these longueurs? Even Rowling and Gaiman do certainly have stories to tell, and they have organized their works with an intensity which has been relatively rare in genre fiction and which, to my mind, more than makes up for the occasional arbitrariness of their narratives.

On the other hand, it seems to me—for reasons suggested above—a fantastic misrepresentation to say that the average rational story is an example of good story-telling. The gift for telling stories is uncommon, like other artistic gifts, and the only one of this group of writers—the writers my correspondents have praised—who seems to me to possess it to any degree is Mr. Alexander Wales. Worth the Candle is the only one of these books that I have read all of and read with enjoyment. But Wales, though in the community he’s lauded as a master, does not really belong to this school of rationalist fiction. What he writes is a work of portal fantasy which has less in common with Yudkowsky than with Stephen Donaldson and Michael Ende - the highbrow isekai which has substituted the blue text of numbers going up for the invisible backdrop of psychodrama. It is not simply a question here of a puzzle which has been put together but of an experience conveyed to the reader, the wonder and terror of an otherworld that is continually revealed in all its varied and unlikely forms. To write such a novel successfully you must be able to invent character and incident and to generate atmosphere, and all this Mr. Wales can do. It was only when I got to the end that I felt my old rational-story depression descending upon me again - because here again, as is so often the case, the explanation of the ontological mystery, when it comes, isn’t interesting enough. It fails to justify the excitement produced by the elaborate buildup of picturesque and sinister happenings, and one cannot help feeling cheated.

My experience with this second batch of novels has, therefore, been even more disillusioning than my experience with the first, and my final conclusion is that the reading of rational stories is simply a kind of vice that, for silliness and minor harmfulness, ranks somewhere between LitRPG and xianxia. This conclusion seems borne out by the violence of the letters I have been receiving. Rational-story readers feel guilty, they are habitually on the defensive, and all their talk about "well-written" fanfics is simply an excuse for their vice, like the reasons that the alcoholic can always produce for a drink. One of the letters I have had shows the addict in his frankest and most shameless phase. This lady begins by pretending, like the others, to guide me in my choice, but she breaks down and tells the whole dreadful truth. Though she has read, she says, hundreds of rational stories, "it is surprising," she finally confesses, "how few I would recommend to another. However, a poor rational story is better than none at all. Try again. With a little better luck, you'll find one you admire and enjoy. Then you, too, may be a rationalist."

This letter has made my blood run cold: so the opium smoker tells the novice not to mind if the first pipe makes him sick; and I fall back for reassurance on the valiant little band of my readers who sympathize with my views on the subject. One of these tells me that I have underestimated both the badness of rational stories themselves and the lax mental habits of those who enjoy them. The worst of it is, he says, that the true addict, half the time, never even learns how to be less wrong. The addict reads not to find anything out but merely to get the mild stimulation of a few shows of wits and of the suspense itself of waiting until the protagonist takes over the world. That this strategy of conquest is nothing at all and does not really explain how to systematically win does not matter to such a reader. He has learned from his long indulgence how to connive with the author in the swindle: he does not pay any real attention when the disappointment occurs, he does not think back and check the chain of reasoning, he simply closes the tab and starts another.

To rational-story addicts, then, I say: Please do not write me any more letters telling me that I have not read the right books. And to the seven correspondents who are with me and who in some cases have thanked me for helping them to liberate themselves from a habit which they recognized as wasteful of time and degrading to the intellect but into which they had been bullied by convention and the portentously performed hijacking of Greg Egan and Charles Stross—to these staunch and pure spirits I say: Friends, we represent a minority, but Literature is on our side. With so many fine web novels to be read, so much to be studied and known, there is no need to bore ourselves with this rubbish. And with the URL shortage pressing on all publication and many first-rate writers forced out of the top 100 on Royal Road, we shall do well to discourage the squandering of this wordcount that might be put to better use.

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