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guessimwritingficsagain · 4 years ago

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To Be Seen, Part Seven

Warnings : depression

Author's note : I based my depiction of Frankie's wife on the movie Laggies that I mentioned before. It's not exactly the same thing but I liked the way the mom was depicted in the movie and how, in the end, everybody made mistakes. I'm still very sad Lynn Shelton left us. So I guess, in a way, this is dedicated to her.

Chapter One ; Chapter Two ; Chapter Three ; Chapter Four ; Chapter Five ; Chapter Six

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Two weeks later, you broke down. You’d felt it coming, used as you were to that grey cloud slowly sneaking its way into your brain. You called in sick on a Saturday night and turned off your phone, not even feeling guilty about that.

Linda had had her meeting with her ex, and they’d both been tentatively hanging out, trying to fix something that was so broken you didn’t know if there was ever a chance it could be fixed. You’d stayed out of the way, of course. You hadn’t spoken to Linda except for the occasional text to check on her. That left a sinking feeling in your stomach, one that came with the realization that even though you considered Linda your friend, you were also her ex, first and foremost, and though she didn’t mind poking into your love life, she seemed reluctant for you to know about hers. Even though you couldn’t really blame her, that heaviness never went away. That was the first sign.

Jessie’s story was something else altogether. James and Will had set up a tight sleeping schedule at Jessie’s house - a tight schedule of following her to work and staying with her all day, too. Will had involved all the boys except Frankie. They were taking turn watching her, making sure she and her kid were safe. You’d managed to talk them out of going to the guy’s place and beating him up - barely. But you knew that couldn’t last. The way Will had vibrated when you explained the situation told you everything you needed to know about that. Talking to Jessie hadn’t been easy either, because she’d first shut you out completely and resented her brother for telling you, you for telling Will, and Will for telling everybody else. That was understandable too, but things were tense between the two of you, and since none of the men wanted to include you in what you called the Jessie Watch in your head, you were left to watch and worry from afar.

But the worst thing was the complete and utter silence from Frankie. He wouldn’t answer your texts or your calls. You kept replaying the only phone call he’d answered to just like you’d kept replaying the moment he’d offered you wine and chocolates for Christmas - God, you wished you could go back to that time.

You dial his phone number, hoping he picks up. He does, starting with :

‘Listen, now’s not a good time. I’m sorry but I got some things to deal with right now. I’ll call you back.’

Unnerved by the tone of his voice, unnerved by his answer, and thinking we don’t even see each other anymore and I thought you liked me and trusted me you bluntly answer :

‘Pope told me.’

The silence on the other end in unbearable, so you continue :

‘Frankie, talk to me. Don’t shut me out, please.’

You’re begging, and you don’t care that you are.

‘It’s fine.’ He eventually mumbles, his voice unconvincing. ‘I’ll sort this out. I just need some time.’

Some time was more than two weeks apparently, and two weeks was your breaking point.

You felt alone in a way you’d never felt before.

That led you here, right to this moment, you opening a bottle of wine, all by yourself. You sat on your couch, and drank a glass. Then, a second. By the third, you were turning on your phone and dialing your mother. When she picked up, you completely broke down. After the phone call, exhausted by all the crying, you left your phone on the couch and went to bed. The battery was empty when you woke up the next morning, feeling puffy and barely keeping it together. You didn’t bother to plug it in.

As agreed upon the night before, your father picked you up a bit before noon. Starbuck was in her bag, and you’d thrown some clothes in a luggage. You felt a wave of relief wash over you when you put it in your childhood’s bedroom, Starbuck already carefully sniffing around the house. You called your boss to ask to use all of the vacation days you had. You didn’t know what deity to thank for the fact that he agreed. You knew it was all wrong. You knew you should be here for Jessie, for everyone. You father covered that : he went to Anna and Phil, told them about the situation and made them promise not to say a word.

You had three weeks of vacation, and nothing to do but pretend you were a teenager again, living with your parents.

Your father kept in touch with Phil and Anna, if only to get news about what was going on with your friends. At the end of the first week, he came back with a letter. You felt yourself shaking until he added :

‘It’s from Anna.’

He heard your sigh of relief but didn’t say a word, turning around to leave you in peace. As he got to the door, though, he turned around and announced :

‘One of these days, I’m gonna have to have a talk with that boy of yours.’

He looked tired, and worried. Your voice wavered as you answered :

‘You won’t have to if he’s not my boy anymore, Dad.’

You felt like crying, but you didn’t. You turned your attention to the letter instead, and smiled at the first line. Anna had taken to give you your own nickname every time you compared her to Jane from Pride and Prejudice.

Dear Elizabeth,

How long and lonely are the days without you. Our dear cook is not quite himself, since you’ve been away, as he has to endure me without you to soothe the pain in his ass that I am. The counter has lost its light, and even the birds seem to sing in a more quiet manner, as if they were missing their dear friend too.

I hope your dear feline companion Starbuck is doing well in her new surroundings. I do not worry much, though: change can be difficult, but she is anything but faint-hearted.

I will keep writing to you, dear Elizabeth, if only to let you know if a respectable gentleman of good fortune ever comes in to charm me. You must promise, though, that you shall write back.

Your Jane.

The letter was so sweet and thoughtful , with Anna’s clumsy attempt at sounding Jane Austen-ish, you finally cried, only this time, the tears were not all bitter. You could call her, but this seemed more fun. You fumbled around to find a piece of paper and picked up a pen.

Dear Jane,

How sweet of you to write to me. I cannot express how much I miss you too. Do not worry about Phil, for he is softer for you than you know. I am sure you are quite exaggerating to hasten my return. Alas, I will remain where I am, for I find this retreat is beneficial to my health.

Starbuck has taken to her new life quite readily, and is currently enjoying a lovely nap in the sun.

Guard your feelings well, my dear. Experience has taught us much in this matter, recently.

I’m writing a return address on the back, so you can write to me through the post-office and avoid my poor father the task of being the delivery man.

Your Elizabeth.

You left the house for the first time this week to mail the letter.

Those three weeks went by like this.

You learnt that Linda and her ex had called it quits for good. You learnt that Will eventually drove to Jessie’s now-ex-boyfriend’s house and beat the shit out of him, and that everybody watched it happen with glee. You learnt that Frankie’s ex-wife was still in town. Staying on the couch.

You wanted to throw up all the time, these days.

You still didn’t turn on your phone. You used your parents’ line to get an appointment to the doctor. The woman only had to look at you to say :

‘Yeah, you’re not going back to work.’

You knew what she meant : you barely recognized yourself when you looked in the mirror. You didn’t sleep much, you didn’t eat much, and it all showed. When you came home, your father hesitantly said :

‘They’re starting to be worried. They’re asking a lot of questions to Anna.’

You found that you didn’t care, and a little voice at the back of your head warned you that this was worrying but you ignored it. It was so easy not to think. You enjoyed the feeling - maybe a little too much, said the voice again. You ignored it again. You were standing on that fine line : you were aware that you weren’t fine, but you weren’t doing anything about it. You knew it would only take a push to bring you to the other side : and then, you wouldn’t be aware anymore that you were not fine.

‘I got two weeks more.’ You answered instead.

———

You hadn’t seen Frankie in five weeks.

You’d been feeling better, lately, but still considered going back to work. And by that you meant going back to work at all, ever again. You weren’t good at facing your problems, you knew that, and that whole existential crisis about your future sounded a lot like running away but you didn’t have the strength to face anything right now. You wanted Frankie and your friends to make some king of grand gesture while knowing they didn’t have the means to reach you. You knew that was ridiculous and a little bit fucked up. You kept at it anyway.

Anna visited you more and more. The first time she’d shown up unannounced, she looked so hesitant it broke your heart. You’d hugged her so hard and she’d given it back the same way. She took to showing up in the morning, when your parents were on their daily stroll, though she happily stayed for lunch. Your parents, of course, adored her.

So, that morning, when someone rang at the door, you expected it to be her. You realized your mistake the second you opened it. You took a step back, speechless, and Will and Santi used your surprise to push past you and come in, very much uninvited.

On autopilot, your brain pretty much gone, you turned around and just stared at them. They stared right back, Pope with a hard look on his face. Will, though, looked like he wanted to hug you but didn’t dare. He seemed to struggle for a minute, before opening with :

‘Benny is very upset you missed his last fight. It was a big one.’

You found your tongue, even if it felt heavy in your mouth.

‘Well, I’ve been…’

‘You’ve been what ?’ Interrupted Santi, his arms crossed and his gaze unforgiving. ‘Ignoring us for five weeks ?’

‘My phone is dead.’

‘For five weeks ? Cut the crap.’

‘How did you find me ?’

You crossed your arms too. Whatever reunion you’d imagined, that wasn’t it. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in and you were trying to get angry, because if you got angry, then you wouldn’t break down. You could feel the tension building up your spine, knew exactly what it meant too : that conversation was not going to go well because whatever happened, whatever your reaction would be, the part of your brain labeled stupid and self-destructive was going to take over.

‘How did you find me ?’ You repeated, your fingers digging into the flesh of your arms to try and ground you.

Apparently, though, your brain wasn’t the only one with a part labeled stupid because instead of answering the question, Pope just decided to go with :

‘Do you realize how Jessie feels ? Do you realize how we all feel ? We had to take care of your friend, your friend because you just bailed on us while her fucking ex-boyfriend was beating the shit out of her.’

The silence that followed was heavy, as you could feel both the anger coming off of Santi and the panic that was shaking Will. Your voice was cold, emotionless, as you answered :

‘I was there. Except nobody wanted me there. I was completely useless.’

‘Bullshit. So what, you disappear ? Jesus, Frankie must have a thing for women who pull that kind of stunt because you’re the second one. The boy’s not very smart, apparently.’

‘Pope.’ Will’s voice rang loud in your ears, but you were frozen to the spot. You wanted to answer with some smartass remark, something petty along the line of well she’s back now, so who needs me anyway, just to get back at Santi because you knew in your heart Frankie wouldn’t just leave you like that. You knew there was more to the story but Frankie had completely shut you out before you went off the grid and now Santi was in front of you, scolding you as if you were a child, the whole thing feeling too much and not real at all, like you were having a really bad nightmare.

Pope ignored Will’s warning and went on :

‘You know the worst part ? He’s so worried he’s going crazy right now. We’re fucking back to square one, when I had to pick up the pieces when the other one left.’

‘Pope, stop.’ You heard Will say.

You opened your mouth, just a reflex, because your brain was empty. You couldn’t think anymore. But you opened your mouth anyway and realized too late you wouldn’t be able to contain the sob crawling up your throat. Breaking down it is, then, was your last thought before you started crying and shaking uncontrollably. So you ran to your room, leaning on the walls to avoid falling.

You were crying so hard you didn’t hear the door open, some time later. You felt the bed dip, though, when someone sat next to you.

‘Go away.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Will’s voice answered as a hand went to your hair. ‘Come on, deep breaths. Everything’s gonna be okay but I need you to breathe, okay ?’

Your hand shot up to grab his arm in a steely grip to steady yourself. You complied, though. After a while, you felt like you could breathe again. Will’s hand kept stroking your hair as he started talking :

‘Listen, Pope’s an asshole, we all know that. Anna briefed me a bit about everything. She wasn’t the one who gave us your address, by the way. I swear, the woman is unbreakable. Linda just figured you might be at your parents’ house and we looked it up. I’m a bit ashamed it took us that long to think about it, honestly.’

He chuckled, and went on :

‘Anyway, listen. Frankie’s been really overwhelmed by his ex coming back, and he didn’t react well, though I must say you answered in kind but I get it. He told me how he kept you out of the loop and I know how hard that must have been for you because I can see how much you care about him. It’s so obvious, the two of you. It was even before anything happened. I know Frankie is, you know, the quiet one, and he’s not all sharp angles and shit like the rest of us, but he turns into a puddle when you’re here. He’s unburdened when you’re around. We used to give him shit because he wouldn’t talk to the cute bartender.’

You smiled, still not looking at Will, but he was looking at you and he saw it.

‘Remember when he came to ask you, for Maria’s birthday ? We made him do it. Benny taunted him. He said that if he had to get up and ask you that, he’d also get your phone number and a date with you.’

‘I’d never go on a date with Benny.’ You replied, your voice hoarse.

‘Yeah, you’re smarter than that. Remember the Christmas presents ? Frankie was having a bloody existential crisis over this. He wanted to buy you a book. Linda gave him ideas but he was freaking out because he was scared he was going to buy you a book you wouldn’t like. I actually had to text Jessie about your favorite wine and get Frankie to go shopping with me so he would stop freaking out. Pretty sure I’ve never seen him stressed out like that and we served together.’

‘You already had Jessie’s number ?’ You asked, pretty sure Jessie would have told you right away about that.

His voice grew quiet, thoughtful.

‘Yeah. I had asked for her number one day. But I was really drunk so I never used it. Figured she’d given it to me because she felt obligated or something since I was a regular. I thought I was taking advantage. If I had made a move earlier …’

You turned your head towards Will, then, knowing you looked like a mess and not caring one bit.

‘What happened is not your fault, Will.’

And then, it hit you.

‘Wait, earlier ? That means you did it ?’

His smile was blinding. You squeezed his arm.

‘Good for you.’

You both fell silent for a moment but Will wasn’t done.

‘Listen, that thing with Frankie’s ex, it’s not what you think, even though he’s been an idiot for not telling you. Wendy came back because she’s lost. She thinks she made a mistake, leaving like that, and she’s still trying to figure out if she wants to be a mom. It’s not about Frankie and her, okay ? It’s about Maria. She wants to try, maybe. She still doesn’t know. Pope shouldn’t have talked to you like that but he’s right : Catfish is lost right now, because he misses you and he doesn’t know how to fix it. He’s too damn respectful to show up here unannounced, too. That’s why we came.’

He kept stroking your hair as your mind processed everything.

When you left the room, Santi was waiting in the garden. You went over to him and hugged him. He whispered apologies in your ear.

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Taglist :

@pedritobalmando @ubri8

#pedro pascal #frankie morales x reader #frankie 'catfish' morales #triple frontier

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dwellordream · 4 years ago

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“The plasticity of the notion of reading meant that it represented the medium through which middle-class Victorian girls passed many hours, but it did not bring a uniform message. Like their parents and advisers, adolescent girls who were writing about reading were of two minds. On the one hand, as William Thayer put it, reading could be a way of demonstrating rectitude and diligence; on the other, it could be a route to indolence and the shirking of responsibilities.

Mary Thomas, away at school in Georgia in 1873, suggested these dual meanings of reading as she imagined a newly virtuous domesticity for herself upon returning home: ‘‘I will sew and read all the time, I am not going out any where, but intend to stay at home and work all the time; no matter how interesting a book may be, I will put it down and do whatever I am asked to do, they shall no longer accuse me of being lazy and good for nothing, I will work all day.’’ In its contrast to engaging in a social whirl of visiting and flirtation, reading, like sewing, represented a becoming and modest domesticity. However, reading might also subvert good intentions, and tempt a girl to inattention to, or even disobedience of, the demands of others or of household work. In any case, reading had a meaning for the self, as well as for the family and the culture.

Reading good books was of course a way of demonstrating virtue. Measured reading of improving texts was part of the regimen of many Victorian girls. As advisers suggested, the reading of history was especially praiseworthy. When Nellie Browne returned home from school in 1859, her mother noted in her diary with pride, ‘‘Nellie begins to read daily Eliot’s History of the United States,’’ a parentally encouraged discipline which would both improve and occupy Nellie now that her school days were over.

Jessie Wendover, the daughter of a prosperous Newark grocer and another regular diarist, recorded a steady diet of history in her journal, justifying her summer vacation in 1888 with the reading of a two-volume History of the Queens of England, as well as doing a little Latin and some arithmetic. The popular British domestic novelist Charlotte Yonge wrote her History of Germany specifically for readers like Jessie Wendover, who began it the following year. What American girl readers took from the history they read is hard to ascertain, because unlike their rapt reports on novels, they recorded their history as achievement rather than illumination.

One can certainly appreciate the irony, though, in encouraging girls to read accounts of national travails, the stories of armies, wars, and dynastic succession, which were ennobled partly by their distance from girls’ real lives. One of the advantages of history seemed to be that girls could be expected to have no worrisome practical interest in it—in marked contrast to the reading of romances or novels.

Victorian girls could build character through a variety of other literary projects, prime among them the memorizing of poetry. Over the course of the late nineteenth century, the publishing industry issued a number of collections of snippets of poetry known as ‘‘memory gems,’’ designed for memorization by schoolchildren. The verse in these anthologies was to serve as ‘‘seed-thoughts’’ for earnest young Victorians aspiring to know the best, and these were the likely sources for many of the couplets which appear in girls’ diaries and scrapbooks.

Margaret Tileston’s daily diary, recorded religiously for her entire life, both fed and celebrated a variety of literary disciplines, including most prominently reading and memorizing poetry. She too read histories during the summer, along with keeping up with her other studies, noting one July day following her graduation from Salem High School that she had ‘‘read my usual portions of Macaulay [a 40-page allotment] and French, but only a few pages of Spencer.’’ Margaret Tileston also read advice literature, such as Mary Livermore’s What Shall We Do with Our Daughters? and two books by Samuel Smiles, Self-Help and Duty. (The latter she described as looking ‘‘quite interesting and full of anecdotes.’’) Margaret Tileston’s diaries suggest a life consumed with the rewards of self-culture.

At fifteen, however, she recorded a brush with another literary genre and mode of striving—a seeking not only for mastery of the will but for beauty itself. Poetry first appeared simply as a verse of romantic poetry copied on the page: ‘‘Why thus longing thus forever sighing, for the far-off, unattained, and dim, while the beautiful, all round thee lying, offers up its low, perpetual hymn.’’ Margaret Tileston was now away at girls’ school, where she had experienced something of an emotional awakening in the intense atmosphere of schoolgirl friendships.

Her turn to poetry seems to reflect the new culture in which she was briefly submerged. That summer, back with her family on vacation on the Massachusetts coast, Tileston again turned to poetry, and to beauty, in an uncharacteristic passage of effusion. ‘‘The moon was perfectly lovely in the sky and its light on the water. We quoted lines of poetry, and it was beautiful.’’ By January of the next year, however, poetry had been incorporated into her disciplines of order and accomplishment. After returning from boarding school, she had moved with her family from the farm where she had spent her formative years to the town of Salem, where she attended the local high school. There she embarked on another campaign of self-improvement, the memorization of poetry, perhaps as a strategy to gain control of alien surroundings.

Two months later she described a new discipline: the daily ritual repetition of all the poems she had learned, of which there were by then 111. On May 25 she reported that her extraordinary ability to memorize poetry was gaining her a reputation. ‘‘Miss Perry asked me if I knew about 250 poems. She said that one of the Goodhue girls had told her I did. I remarked something of the sort to Miss Perkins one day in recess, and somehow it was repeated.’’ By the end of July she noted that she was beginning to have trouble finding new poems to learn because she knew so many already.

Appreciation of the beauty of poetry had dropped out of her journal. Nor did she suggest that the poetry had any meaning to her at all. Yet she very likely gained some of the satisfactions from poetry expressed by Louisa May Alcott, some years before. After disobeying her mother, at the age of eleven, Alcott ‘‘cried, and then I felt better, and said that piece from Mrs. Sigourney, ‘I must not tease my mother.’’’ She went on, ‘‘I get to sleep saying poetry,—I know a great deal.’’ For those feeling guilty, sad, misunderstood, or wronged, repeat- ing lines of elevating poetry had an effect in a secular mode analagous to the saying of ritual Hail Marys. The verses established an alliance with a higher authority and suggested personal participation in a glorious and tragic human struggle.

And in fact, poetry, even more than history, was the prototypical idealist genre. In 1851 the British educational pioneers Maria Grey and Emily Shirreff proposed the reading of poetry rather than fiction, explaining the crucial distancing effect of poetic subjects. ‘‘In a poem, the wildest language of passion, though it may appeal to the feelings, is generally called forth in circumstances remote from the experience of the reader.’’ They suggested that in poetry there was a higher truth than that of superficial realism: ‘‘The grand conceptions of the poet are true in ideal beauty.’’

Writing fifty years later, Harriet Paine too suggested that poetry had generic qualities of elevation. ‘‘After all, in poetry itself what we read is not the important thing. We should read poetry to give us a certain attitude of mind, a habit of thinking of noble things, of keeping our spirit in harmony with beauty and goodness and strength and love.’’ Earlier Paine had commended the memorization of poetry as neces- sary to ‘‘take in the full meaning,’’ suggesting just such a regular regimen of repetition as Tileston had pursued. The spiritual rewards from internalizing poetry were revealed by Paine’s proposal that it take place on the Sabbath: ‘‘Surely we must give a part of every Sunday to such elevating study.’’

Elizabeth Barrett Browning had censured poets for their historical escapism in her 1857 poem Aurora Leigh, arguing Their sole work is to represent the age, Their age, not Charlemagne’s—this live, throbbing age, That brawls, cheats, maddens, calculates, aspires. Yet it was in just its remoteness from ‘‘this live, throbbing age,’’ just in the ‘‘togas and the picturesque’’ disparaged by Browning that poetry was considered so appropriate for girl readers.

…If reading presented an opportunity to discover national allies, to demonstrate private virtue, and to suggest the triumph of the will against ennui or boredom, it increasingly endorsed another way of defining life: the excitement and the exercise of the feelings. Girls who read their daily allowance of Macaulay or the Bible with pride and self-satisfaction upbraided themselves for their difficulties in controlling their insatiable appetites for Victorian novels of all kinds. Reading for leisure or for pleasure invariably meant reading for ‘‘sensation,’’ reading for adventure, excitement, identification, titillation. In the process of this kind of reading, Victorian girls ministered to a complex of emotions.

…Perhaps leisure reading can best be defined by what it was not: study, sleep, or sewing. Girls chastised themselves for imperfectly learning their lessons, and sometimes blamed the distractions of leisure reading. Martha Moore, who had just begun to attend school in occupied New Orleans during the Civil War, confessed that she found the schoolwork hard and had had two crying spells before she ‘‘picked up an interesting story and with my old habit of procrastination, thought I would read that first, and then study.’’

She observed the inevitable consequence ‘‘that my lessons are very imperfectly known.’’ And even Margaret Tileston, whose discipline seldom allowed her to swerve from duty, could be seduced by light reading. At the age of fourteen: ‘‘I scarcely studied in my history at all, because I was interested in ‘Sir Gibbie,’ and wanted to finish reading it.’’ At the age of seventeen: ‘‘I undertook to spend the afternoon and evening on my Ancient History, but my thoughts wandered and I spent some time on papers and magazines.’’ At the age of twenty: ‘‘I did not study a great deal in evening, on account of my interest in my novel, but I read over my History lesson.’’

Girls also resolved to prevent reading from interfering with their domestic chores, usually their needlework. Treating reading as recreation, Virginian Agnes Lee observed, ‘‘I really am so idle I must be more industrious but it is so hard when one is reading or playing to stop to practice or sew.’’ Another Virginian, Lucy Breckinridge, set up a similar opposition, noting that she and her sisters had gathered together in her room ‘‘being industrious. I am getting over my unsocial habit of sitting in my room reading all day.’’ For Lucy Breckinridge private reading not only was not industrious, it was also antisocial.”

- Jane H. Hunter, “Reading as the Development of Taste.” in How Young Ladies Became Girls: The Victorian Origins of American Girlhood

#history #victorian #american #jane h. hunter #how young ladies became girls

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 5 years ago

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Untold Future Chapter 1

Have Hope

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: Lets be clear before we dive into this series. There will be heavy use of torture throughout this series. Please expect blood and gore in each chapter. If you haven’t seen my take on gore before, please note that I am a bit graphic when it comes to it. So heed the warnings in the future. This chapter however, is pretty tame.

This is a SEQUEL! If you have not read Forgotten Alliance, please do so. Or you’ll be terribly lost.

Author’s Note: Welcome to the sequel of Forgotten Alliance. I am still so blown away by the feedback that I’ve gotten for this series. Not just here, but on ffnet as well. You guys are amazing and I can’t wait for you guys to read what is to come. ♥

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

<< Forgotten Alliance || Chapter 2 >>

My dearest Elijah,

I did it. I got the cures that were needed to wake you and your siblings and bring you all back home to your brother. It had taken some time and the world has changed in the last five years. Even with me visiting you from time to time, I couldn’t stand to be apart from you. The thought of it now scares the hell out of me. But knowing you were safe was what kept me going. Finding a way to bring you back to me was motivation as well. And I never truly stopped until now. You’ve heard me rant about them during our visits, I shouldn’t rant about them here.

I wanted to write to you before I left to give the cure to you and Kol. I hoped that sitting down and writing to you would make the guilt that I have felt ease in some way. Of course it didn’t though. I still feel it. This does help me ease my mind in some way though. I never would have thought this letter would be the first thing you would see from me once you woke. But I’d rather you have this than nothing at all and you’d be forced to wonder what is was I was thinking or even what went through my mind as I sat here and wrote this. I do not expect there to be a positive outcome for me after you wake. But I know I will feel better knowing that you can wake up and be with your family despite the mistakes I have made.

Klaus is still safe and hidden. He is and has been in good hands. Upon your arrival back into New Orleans, it will not be hard to find his whereabouts and of course it will not be hard to release him from his own sleep he has been in. When he is well, tell him that the only thing I ask for him to do is to keep the city as it has been. I’ve helped keep New Orleans in the best shape it has ever been. I’ve managed to get the wolves and the witches to live in peace with the vampires. It was a lot of work, but I managed to do it. Even as I worked and maybe even threatened a few people to get those cures, I never stopped making sure that our home wasn’t destroyed in your family’s absence. The Mikaelsons have allies now. I ask that you help keep the city the way it has been. Don’t let him mess it up.

I want to say that no matter if we had been together in person or inside the dream world Freya had created, my time with you was amazing. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you Elijah. And because I love you I had made decisions that will lead me to be a part of something that I had hoped I would never have to be a part of. When you wake, you will only feel my presence for a moment. As much as I would love for you to know my presence is constantly there, I cannot allow you to feel what ever pain may come with my decision. My humanity will be off Elijah. But I will continue to feel yours. I will feel when you wake and I will feel when you begin to worry. I only ask that you continue to have some hope in me returning to you. That will keep me going. That will keep me fighting against what is to come. Having my emotions off protects you from knowing and feeling the torment that will come. I am not shutting them off just to spare you from the endless pain that I will feel, but it is also a part of the deal that has been made. It all makes it harder for you to find me. But knowing you, you will stop at nothing until I am in your sight again. And don’t take it out on Hayley, she knew nothing about my plan for this. She’s been surprised by the manpower that was recently used to get your cure. Without it, this would have taken so much longer.

But with this manpower that has been used, it leaves us at the one point in time that we continuously worried about. I knew this whole time, Elijah. I may have not known exactly when it would happen, but I knew that the moment I had the cures, this is where we would be. I’ve known since the very night you were placed in the spell you have woken up from. I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t want there to be a countdown for you or for you to even sit there and worry about what I could possibly be doing to be bringing you home. So I carried it on my shoulders alone for just a little longer. I believe it was the best thing to do. But we are here, Elijah.

Promise me that you’ll find me. When you do find me, no matter how broken or how far gone I am, bring me back. Fix me until all of my pieces are back together. If I say things that are hurtful or do things that may cause situations to become difficult, don’t let that stop you. You once told me while I was human that many things happen for a reason. Those hidden reasons hold forgotten pasts, forgotten alliances, and untold futures. We can only hope that our past comes back to help us, not harm us. I had been your forgotten past and your forgotten alliance. I came back and helped as much as I could, even though I have made a bit of a mess. Now, I need your help with the untold future. My deal with the Devil is done and it is time for him to collect. You know where my future would lead to. Save me from them.

Always and Forever,

Elizabeth

The letter felt heavy in Elijah's pocket. The message that he must have read over a hundred times in the last hour seemed to weigh more than earlier before. It was the words that were written in them that made the letter heavy. The weight of the world had been on Elizabeth's shoulders when she wrote it. And now, as it was neatly placed into his jacket pocket, he could feel the same weight.

The numbness that surrounded him would never compare to the feelings that surrounded him the night before. The comfort, the love, the warmth she gave him was now gone. It was replaced by a fuzzy feeling that only made him grow agitated.

Save me from them.

Those words written in the black ink had weighed the most to Elijah. He wanted to be angry with Elizabeth. He wanted to be mad that she had even thought about giving herself up as she had. For not including him in on her plan and making him believe they'd be together without any interference.

But Elizabeth hadn't. She carried it all on her shoulders without including any of the Mikaelsons in on the plan. The devil was in the details, and Elizabeth wouldn't have been able to live with herself if they had known. It was what made it easier to leave that morning unnoticed. To know that her family would be safe, even if she wouldn't be.

But no matter how much he wanted to be angry, he knew he couldn't be. He could be angry with the very person that was holding her captive. He could be upset with himself for pushing her in the direction of turning off her humanity. He could even blame his older sister for the events leading up to Elizabeth shutting off the best part of herself. But he couldn't bring himself to.

"Here," Hayley's voice broke his thoughts. As Elijah turned, he found Hayley handing Freya a map. One that he had seen hanging in Hope's room. "It's the best we've got."

"We'll make it work." Freya said with a nod. Her eyes moved over to Elijah for a moment. She wanted her brother to know that this was going to work. That with a locator spell, they'd be able to find Elizabeth.

Elijah took a step closer as Freya took black sand into her hand and began pouring it onto the map. Sighing, Freya looked over at Hope and took the child's hand. The moment their hands came together, they began chanting a locator spell.

The others watched as the black sand stayed still for only a moment before it began moving. But instead of moving to a specific location on the map, the sand spread out across it. The sand scattered across the map, giving the indication that there was nothing to find. As if Elizabeth couldn't be found at all.

Realizing the spell hadn't worked, Elijah's anger got the best of him. He turned away and knocked the items off the nearest shelf. As he did so, everyone else looked down at their feet or away from Elijah. They didn't know what to do or say to bring him comfort.

"Why didn't it work?" He asked as he ran a hand down his face. His eyes never landed on his siblings or the map.

"I don't know." Freya said with a shake of her head. "She's cloaked, but whatever magic that was used to do it, I can't get passed it."

"Why would she do this?" Even though he knew the answer, he couldn't stop himself from asking. He knew Elizabeth had done it to fix the wrongs she made. She had done it to bring him back to his family. Elizabeth made it so that Hope wouldn't have to grow up without a father in her life. She did it because she was willing to do anything for her family.

"She was keeping her promise." Hayley said with a sigh. "She promised your brother that no matter the cost, she would find a way to save you all."

"And that cost being what?" Elijah asked, taking a step towards Hayley. "Our lives for the cruel and sadistic torment they will put her through for what they call 'research'?"

"Wait a minute," Kol said as he looked over at Elijah. "What torment?"

It had been the first time Kol, Rebekah, and Freya had heard of it. Elizabeth had never brought it up around them. Elijah had been the only Mikaelson to know the details of her past and what awaited her.

"Years ago, Elizabeth had been captured by humans." Elijah began. "They used her as if she had been some science experiment. She had been tormented for almost ten years before she escaped. It wasn't until recently when Jess had shown me the visions." He shook his head at the thought. "At some point, Elizabeth would return there, willingly. Elizabeth never thought she would make it out of there alive the first time."

"But she survived," Rebekah said, walking over to her brother and placing her hand on his shoulder. "She wouldn't have made it back to New Orleans if she hadn't. "

"That doesn't explain why she willingly handed herself over to them now." Kol noted.

"You were in danger." Hayley said, looking over at Kol. "She did the one thing she thought was necessary to help bring you back."

Elijah shook his head and started making his way towards the door. "I'm going to go and find her. She couldn't have gotten far." Hayley grabbed hold of his arm as he walked passed her. He looked towards her, confusion on his face as to why she had stopped him.

"She did this so you could see your family together again. That includes your brother." Hayley hoped she could talk some sense into him. "Elizabeth's sacrifice was so that the Mikaelson's would be together. Shouldn't you let him see that you are alive and well before deciding to run around like some mad man?"

"Hayley's right," Rebekah said, taking a step towards her brother. "We know you are fine. What Elizabeth did would be for nothing if we don't come together at least once."

Elijah gently pulled himself out of Hayley's hold before bringing running his hand down his face. "We wouldn't be complete. Not without Elizabeth. And you two are asking me to go in the opposite direction of where she went."

"'Lijah, we'll find her." Freya promised. "Being back at home gives us an advantage. I'll have access to my supplies and have a better locator spell. But you running off as you'd like, we both know Liz wouldn't want that."

Taking in Freya's words, Elijah sighed as he nodded. He hated the idea of whatever Elizabeth could potentially be going through. He wanted to find her right away. His mind could only keep seeing the same words over and over in his head. Save me. Elizabeth had wanted him to save her from whatever it was they would do to her. But as much as he wanted to run off and look for her, his family had been right. Elizabeth had done all of it for them to be together again.

Today, he would head home and see his brother. To assure him that his family was together once more. But come tomorrow, he would be out there looking for Elizabeth. And he wouldn't be stopping until she was home with him.

_____

Veronica had been pacing the courtyard of the compound in New Orleans. Her cellphone was in one hand as she gently tapped it against the palm of her other. She was growing worried. Elizabeth left and never came home last night.

"Anything?" Malakai asked as he walked in through the entrance. He had been out half the night looking for Elizabeth. After seeing Elizabeth with Jax the night before, he knew she wasn't just out and about. Something was wrong, he could feel it.

"No." Veronica shook her head. "Her cellphone is going straight to voicemail. Jess won't answer either. Locator spells aren't working."

Veronica was panicking. Malakai wouldn't tell her what was going on. The only thing he mentioned was there was 'bad news' in town, and he was worried about Elizabeth. Without any details, her mind was going in several directions.

"How are they not working?" Malakai asked with a raised brow.

"It's not picking up her location. A few of us tried different spells, and none of them can pick up on Elizabeth's whereabouts. What is going on, Kai?" She wanted answers. She wanted to know how worried she needed to be.

"We reached plan Z some time ago, and Elizabeth didn't tell us we did." Malakai rubbed the back of his neck. "While you were keeping the witches safe, Jax was here."

Veronica's eyes widened at that. "The secret meetings away from town. We should call Hayley."

"I would, but I never got her number. I always called Elizabeth if anything." Malakai said, shaking his head.

"No need to worry about calling." Hayley's voice carried into the area.

Both of them turned to watch as Hayley stepped into the courtyard. But what they weren't expecting was the Mikaelsons following her in. Their eyes took in the siblings, wondering how they were all standing there in front of them.

"She was with you." Veronica said the moment her eyes landed on Elijah. "Is she-"All of them shook their heads before she could even finish her question.

"She left this morning. " Elijah answered for her. "Whitmore."

Malakai shook his head. "And you let her go?" He asked, taking a step closer to Elijah. "After everything she has told you about that place."

Veronica grabbed hold of Malakai's arm. "It's not his fault. If this was Plan Z, we knew the outcome already." She said, looking up at Malakai. "Even if Elijah tried stopping her, we'd still be here right now."

Elijah watched the interaction between the two for a moment. As Malakai looked at the girl, he simply nodded his head. But it was something Elijah understood. These two were as much of Elizabeth's family as his family had been.

"You must be Veronica." He said as he took a step towards the two.

Veronica looked over at Elijah and nodded her head. "Yeah. I'm assuming she told you about me?" Elijah nodded. "I promise I wouldn't do anything to be a threat."

"Threat?" Rebekah asked, taking a step closer towards her brother.

Elijah looked at his siblings for a moment before looking back at Veronica. "This is Veronica, Elizabeth sired her. She's also a descendant of Elizabeth."

"Sired her?" It was Kol's turn to ask the question. "Before or after the serum?"

"After." Both Veronica and Elijah said at the same time.

"Bloody hell." Kol said, shaking his head. "One wrong move, and we'll be back right where we started."

"I would never be a threat to you. Not after everything Elizabeth has done for me." Veronica said, shaking her head.

"We know that." Hayley said with a nod. "You went out there and tried helping Liz get the cures. I am grateful that you were willing to help us."

Hope moved through the adults that were in front of her. She was curious about the person that had helped Elizabeth. And if she had been anything like Elizabeth, Hope knew she would be a friend.

Seeing Hope, Veronica looked over at Malakai for a moment. He nodded his head in confirmation to the silent question that had been asked. Sighing, Veronica took a few steps closer to Hope before kneeling in front of her.

"I heard you are looking for a sleeping King." She said with a small smile pulling at her lips.

Hope's face lit up at that. "Aunt Liz said my dad was behind the blood spell."

A smile pulled at Hayley's lips as she watched Hope. This had been the moment she had been waiting for. Hope understood who her father was. Now she'd be able to meet him.

Veronica placed her hand out in front of Hope, offering it to her. With no hesitation, Hope took hold of it. Standing straight, Veronica began leading them up the stairs. As she did, she looked back from time to time.

As they reached Klaus's room, Veronica let go of Hope's hand. "This part I need to do on my own." She said with a small nod.

While any other time Veronica had felt confident in her siphoning skills, it was this moment, with having the Mikaelsons watching her, that she doubted them. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hands on the door and began absorbing the magic.

The reddish glow that surrounded her hands caused a Hope to gasp in surprise. She had never seen that happened before, and it had been exciting to see. As for the other adults, they weren't sure how to react. Here was a vampire, that not only had the effects of the serum but could practice magic if she wanted.

When Veronica's hands stopped glowing, she grabbed hold of the doorknob and opened the door. The door quickly opened, allowing them entry into the room. But when the Mikaelsons walked in, they couldn't see Klaus anywhere.

"Where is he?" Rebekah asked as she tried to keep calm.

"Elizabeth had Jess put a cloaking spell on him." Veronica said as she looked at Rebekah. "He's hidden in plain sight."

With a wave of her hand, Veronica quickly mumbled a spell. The moment she stopped, Klaus appeared on the bed, just as Veronica remembered he was. He looked no different than the last time she had been in that room.

"I'm sure one of you would like to have the honors." Veronica said as she stepped back. She wasn't going to be the one that pulled Papa Tunde's blade from Klaus. She wanted it to be done by his family. "If you'd like, I can take Hope out of the room for a moment?"

Hayley looked down at Hope, who pouted slightly. Sighing, she looked back at Veronica. "No, I think she'll be able to handle it."

Veronica gave them a smile. "I'll leave you to it." Without another word, Veronica stepped out of the room to provide them with privacy.

"I'll take care of it." Elijah said a moment later.

He moved over to the bed and sat down beside Klaus. He knew that this was going to hurt. From the experience of the removal on himself, Elijah hoped to make it as quick as possible. With one swift movement, Elijah pushed his hand into Klaus's chest. A cry of pain left Klaus's lips as he had done so. As Elijah grabbed hold of the blade, he quickly pulled it out, hoping to give Klaus the relief he needed.

Those that stood close enough could see the open wound begin to heal quickly. Once it did, Klaus began to stir. As his eyes opened, he had been surrounded by his siblings and Hayley. The family he believed he wouldn't see for a while longer.

"She did say you would take some pleasure in waking me." Klaus's voice was rough, but it had caused his siblings to laugh.

Elijah helped Klaus sit up. "I'll give it to Liz, she does keep things interesting." He said with a nod. "But before we get into details, there is someone who's been waiting to see you."

As Klaus looked around the room, his eyes landed on Hayley. Standing right next to her had been Hope. His eyes began to water as he took her in. The last time he had laid eyes on her, she was an infant. Now she was an older child.

The moment Klaus gave Hope a smile, she left Hayley's side and went straight for Klaus. He pulled his daughter into his arms and held her tightly. Her small arms wrapped around him as best as she could, neither of them wanting to let go.

The moment was something they all needed. Hayley, Freya, and Rebekah had tears in their eyes as they watched the two. For as many times as they had talked about the reunion with Hope, this wasn't what they pictured. Yet, it was exactly what they needed.

After Klaus had a few moments with Hope, they gave Klaus space to get out of bed and feed. Just as they had, blood was needed to restore his strength and control his hunger. Once he felt like himself, Klaus called Elijah into the room.

"While we are having a reunion, we are one short." Klaus began as he looked at his brother. "I had expected you to go after her and leave our siblings to wake me."

Elijah looked down at the ground. That had been exactly what he wanted to do. "There was a moment where I would have. And then I was told this is what Elizabeth would have wanted."

Klaus sighed and walked over to his brother before pulling him into a hug. While it was rare for the brothers to have a moment such as this outside of troublesome times, it still was needed. "The universe did right by picking her for you."

Elijah chuckled as he hugged Klaus back. "I would believe I was dreaming if I hadn't pulled the blade out myself."

"Having a blade in your chest for five years will do that to you." As Klaus pulled away from his brother, he sighed softly. "There is something you should see." Elijah's eyebrow raised slightly as Klaus lifted his hand up to his brother's head. A moment later, a memory played through Elijah's mind.

"What do I owe this unexpected surprise?" Klaus asked as he moved away from the balcony.

"I wanted to check-in and see how you were doing in your own head." Elizabeth said with a smile. "I'm sure it gets lonely here with no one to talk to."

"My mind has a particular way of coping with that little detail." He said as he pulled Elizabeth into a hug. "It is great to have someone real to talk to if I must say."

She hugged him back for a moment before pulling away from him. "That's actually what I wanted to speak to you about."

She watched as his eyebrow rose. "You have news." A small smile grew on his lips. He was hopeful. His own head had been his private prison, and if she was about to tell him what he had longed to hear, things would get better.

"Yes." She said with a nod. "I have a test trial that I will be taking to your brothers shortly." She smiled at the thought that this was finally over.

"So, that means that you can remove that bloody blade from my chest now." He said with a smile on his face.

"Oh, I could do that, but why deny Elijah the chance to shove his hand in your chest." She said with a smirk.

Klaus laughed as he shook his head. "I have no doubt about it."

"That's not the only reason I won't remove it." Klaus's eyebrow raised at that. "Because I know you would try to stop me once I did."

"What did you do, Liz?" He asked, watching her.

"I kept my promise." A sad smile pulled at her lips before it was gone. "He'll come for you soon to pull the blade out. But I won't be there with them."

"You know as well as I do, he'll go looking for you the moment you're gone." Klaus shook his head.

"He'll come to you first. I know he will. And when he does, you can tell him all about how I tormented you in your own head." She shrugged slightly before a small smile pulled at her lips.

A smirk pulled at his lips. "Anything else I should tell him?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment before sighing. "Not all things can fit in a chest."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "What does that mean?"

She shook her head slightly. "He'll know what that means. And that's all that matters."

As the memory ended, Elijah shook his head as he looked at Klaus. "She came to you before she left."

"With a rather confusing message, I might add." Klaus said with a nod as he moved his hand away. "What did she mean?"

Elijah tried racking his brain for anything that might recognize what Elizabeth had meant. But nothing came to mind. None of it had made sense to him at that moment. " I honestly do not know."

"That might be something you might want to figure out." Klaus said as he placed his hand on his shoulder. "There is something she wants you to know."

"Now, it is just a matter of finding out what." Elijah said with a nod.

Veronica stood back and watched as the Mikaelson's had their reunion. They were back together after the last five years. She now knew why Elizabeth always carried the world on her shoulders. It was to have the people she cared about back together. Sacrifices have to be made at times to protect the people that they love. Klaus had made that sacrifice for five years while Elizabeth fought with herself on which way to go about things. She was willing to try and go through every possible plan in the book. It just came down to the one thing that she hoped she would never have to do.

When Elizabeth told her that it was time, Veronica knew that the visions had finally caught Elizabeth. When something is set in stone, you can only avoid it for so long before you eventually reach it. Veronica leaned against the door frame watching the family before her, with smiles and joy to be reunited. It did not stop the heavy feeling that began to set into her chest. This was just the beginning. There was no telling what could happen to Elizabeth or what would happen when she would eventually return home. Veronica knew that there were still sacrifices being made, and Elizabeth was the one making those sacrifices. Elizabeth had seen part of the end to this. She just never told anyone what would happen after she walked passed that wooden door.

Malakai walked up to Veronica and sighed. He had been out all day looking for Elizabeth from the moment Veronica told him what she was doing. But there had been no luck in doing so. He leaned against the wall next to Veronica and turned his attention towards the Mikaelsons. They were still enjoying being together. But to Malakai, he knew something wasn't the same. Not everyone was where they should be.

"The family isn't complete." He said softly.

"I know," Veronica said, looking towards Malakai. "She will return home at some point."

"But until then, we have no idea where she could be or if she is even okay." He said, shaking his head.

"We can only have hope." Veronica said with a small nod. "That is what she wants us to have, so we will."

_____

Dimmed lights made it hard to see anything. But it wasn't like it really mattered on what Elizabeth could see or not. For once in the five years since she had taken the serum, she felt weak. Elizabeth could no longer stand on her own. Maybe that was why it took two men to drag her out of the cell she had been sitting in.

After several hours of travel, Elizabeth had been thrown into a cell. One that reminded her so much of the ones back at Whitmore. The only different thing was that the bars were thicker. Moments later, she had been hit with vervain mist. Enough of it to immobilize her before someone injected something into her.

Her head had been clouded enough that she couldn't tell what was up and what was down anymore. She felt numb, and that was the best part about it. She needed to feel numb to it all. Turning off her emotions, this time was to protect the person she cared about most. She needed to feel nothing so he wouldn't feel any of the feelings that would follow. There was no stopping what was to come.

"We put enough of that solution you gave us into her that she doesn't look so well." A man said as he and a colleague dragged Elizabeth into a room a bright room. Once they were inside the room, they lifted Elizabeth up and strapped her to a table.

"That's exactly how it should be, Allen." Another man said as he was drying off a set of scalpels and setting them on a tray. "She isn't like the others."

"What is she then?" Allen asked, looking at Elizabeth.

"From what she has told me, she is supposed to be an upgrade of the original vampires. She's stronger, faster, and even can bite and kill a vampire." Allen's eyes widened at his words.

"How the hell did any of the guys catch her?" Allen asked, looking over at Elizabeth.

"They didn't. We had a deal, and Elizabeth here is now paying her end of it."

"Why would she make a deal that would land her in this place?" All of the other vampires that came and went never came willingly. It was different to hear that someone wanted this.

"Because she did it for love. Love of one of the original vampires."

"Won't they come to try and get her?" Allen knew plenty about the original vampires. If the stories had been right, he was afraid of what could be waiting for them.

"Oh, I am hoping for that." The man said as he took a few steps towards the table Elizabeth was strapped to. He looked down at her and smiled a little. The man enjoyed the look of her being out of it. He reached his hand out to her cheek and patted it to get her attention. "How are you feeling, Elizabeth?" He asked as he watched her roll her head towards him. She smirked at him through the haziness of what they injected her with.

"Ready for your worst, Jax." Her voice was scratchy, but the message had been clear to Jax. He turned and grabbed the largest scalpel he had. Without hesitating, he turned and began slicing at her skin. Elizabeth tried holding back her scream. She hadn't wanted to give the satisfaction of hearing her screams from the pain. But the more he cut into her, the more it had been too much to handle. Her cries became louder with each new tool Jax switched to test out on her. Soon, her screams had been loud enough that neighbors or anyone nearby would have thought someone was being murdered if they had not been in their secluded location.

<< Forgotten Alliance || Chapter 2 >>

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#The Originals #The Vampire Diaries #Forgotten Alliance #Forgotten Alliance Sequel #Untold Future #Elijah Mikaelson x OC #Rebekah Mikaelson #Klaus Mikaelson #Hope Mikaelson #Elijah Mikaelson #Kol Mikaelson #Freya Mikaelson #Original Characters #The Originals AU Season 4 #elijah mikaelson imagine #Elijah Mikaelson fics

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lady-plantagenet · 5 years ago

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Unsolicited Book Reviews (n3): The Sunne in Splendour

Rating:

⭐️⭐️⭐️(+1/2?)

Even before I had an account, I tended to go to tumblr to see people’s opinions before buying a histfic. Certain books are either severely underrepresented, where I feel like there needs to be something on them, whereas others, though talked about enough, something more can still be said about them. So for my quarantine fun, I have decided to start a series where I review every medieval historical fiction novel I read. Hopefully, it will either start interesting discussions or at least be some help for those browsing its tag when considering purchasing it.

TL;DR: Keep in mind that I’m harsh with my ratings. I don’t expect my historical fiction to offer some sort of insight about the human condition or be some perfectly manicured prose, but this book’s biggest detriment was its lack of depth. Some scenes packed a serious emotional punch, but then again I am attached to this era and given the length, it would be insane not to. I learned a lot - no lie, but while my background knowledge on the wars of the roses has become enriched, I feel no closer to Richard.

Plot: We follow Richard III from a young boy at eight right before the catastrophe that was Ludlow to his death and a few years after. This story seems to be told through omniscient third person point of view, which creates issues when it comes to voice - a lot of the characters sound the same (John ‘Jack’ Howard, Francis Lovell, Richard Catesby to name a few). This is only a natural consequence of the sheer amount of people Penman chose to portray. I’m honestly still grateful for this as I was not a fan of Richard III’s POV, but really enjoyed Richard Neville Earl of Warwick’s, Margaret of Anjou and Cecily Neville’s. Everytime these three were the center of the chapter, it was truly enjoyable and multi-faceted which comes to show that Penman is capable of writing complexity when she wants to. I would also like to add that the author’s knowledge of medieval life (e.g. the food, the dogs, the nature of battles) was a high point of this novel and did something to counter-balance the rampant late 20th century flavour in this novel. She tries way too hard to adapt a medieval man such as Richard to our modern values to propagate her Richardian Agenda, which ultimately underscored this.

It must be said though that the author clearly did her research as most of what she said regarding minutae such as: what day of the week it was, where the characters were at one time, details of documents, who did what in which battle, what laws were passed etc... I had just come back to this time period after some years and I thought I knew all there was to know, yet, here comes this book which springboarded me into a wealth of new research - I suppose I am grateful for that. However, do not let that delude you into thinking it is comprehensive. There were historical innacuracies which I can only guess were intentionally made for the sake of the author’s Richardian goal e.g. Anne Neville being forced into her marital duties when historicalMargaret of Anjou made it clear that there would be no consummation until Warwick would prevail at Barnet, Isabel Neville being ‘abandoned’ by her husband in France when really it was only about 4 months they were apart and it would have made no sense for Isabel to sail with an invasionary force, Richard III abolishing benevolence tax because he thought it unfair as opposed to the reality which was that he had failed in his initial attempt to raise them because the population opposed, Richard III allowing the marriage between Jane Shore and Thomas Lynsom when in reality he had initially opposed it... Historical fiction is entitled to innacuracies but given that the author made it clear in her afterword that the only time she strayed was setting a scene in Windsor as opposed to Westminster, it is dishonest to conceal the aforementioned blips, especially when they are so unobvious that it would take a seasoned enthusiast to spot them. As you can tell they either do have a negative bearing on Richard’s image as a saint or show detractors in a positive light, clearly neither that which she was in a mood to explain away.

Characterisation: I can not stress enough how well Cecily Neville was portrayed, every scene she was in, I felt. She tends to be a very difficult character to get because of the whole illegitimacy rumour which casts shades of doubt. She was proud but also pious, subservient but also commanding... just an incredible woman of gravity. I enjoyed Warwick in all his flamboyancy as well and Edward IV was masterfully portrayed as the intelligent but forgiving man that he was. You could clearly see how despite his indulgent character, he knew when it was time to be serious, it was a joy to read the scenes where he strikes people into subserviancy. Anne Beauchamp was also quite a treat for the little time we had with her.

There were also some portrayals of mixed quality: George Duke of Clarence for one, his warped sense of humour and charm were well presented, his unpredictability adequately captured. The issue I have though is that no man is unpredictable to themselves and while it may make sense for other characters to see his temperaments as those like a weather vane it would make no sense for it to be this way in the chapters where he is the POV. Penman’s basically wrote him off as crazy (I mean literally mad) for the majority of the story which is utter tripe given that the whole madness angle is a modern invention. I won’t write more on this now as it deserves its own post (btw if anyone wants me to elaborate on anything I said so far send me an ask). Last thing I will say though: the last scene we have with him is utterly tragic and still sticks with me today, honestly the best writing in this novel was during the ‘Anne’ Book and ‘Protector of the North’ in the years surrounding George’s death. Speaking of, where do I begin with Isabel Neville and Elizabeth Woodville? Their marriages with Richard’s brothers are portrayed negatively for no other reason than to set up Richard and Anne Neville as a perfect love story. This story-telling technique is cheap as hell and I did not expect to find it in a novel so highly acclaimed for its ‘quality’. Let me make this clear: The marriage which was hailed as a love match at that time was that of Elizabeth Woodville and Edward IV. Anne and Richard could have been just as much a marriage of politics as George and Isabel’s, or the latter’s just as much a love match. George fought for Isabel just as much, if not more than Richard did for Anne, George stayed loyal for a surety whereas Richard’s bastard John’s conception may have coincided with his marriage according to Hicks, Marrying Anne was highly advantageous for Richard as marrying Isabel for George... I could go on. Therefore, why is Isabel constantly described as wretched, miserable and at one point abused(!) by her husband whereas Richard was nothing but gentle to the happy Anne. The Mary of Burgundy proposal story is often cited as proof that George only cared about power... but what about Richard’s proposal to Joanna of Portugal one month after Anne died? This may sound minor but it’s a perfect example of the author trying hard to make Richard a modern romantic figure which he wasn’t. I think he may have loved Anne Neville, but that doesn’t change the fact that he was a medieval king and made marriage provisions after her death to secure the succession. For a 800+ page novel about Richard III some seminal pieces of information were left out such as his seizure of the aged Dowager Countess of Oxford’s Howard fortune, the mysterious circumstances in which George Neville Duke of Bedford died young and unmarried after becoming his ward. All in all, do not let the wonderful historical detail fool you into thinking this is a complete account of Richard III’s day to day life.

Don’t even get me started on the Woodvilles... They were all treacherous villains and social climbers who belonged in hell. EVEN ANTHONY WOODVILLE - what has he ever done to Penman or anyone? All scenes with Elizabeth Woodville at the beggining were bedding scenes pretty much, which shows that the author saw her as nothing more than a heartless seductress. There was even a point where Edward in his rage said: ‘you would lie with a leper if it meant you becoming Queen’ and I was just shocked at that. I was further shocked when her daughter Elizabeth of York was musing that if her mother had been a good wife her father wouldn’t have needed to stray and I was just like... ‘I thought we were trying to be sensible in this book 0_0’ - How is it appropriate to have a woman blamed for her husband’s infidelity? How can we have such blatant classism and sexism on the one hand and late 20th century wokeness on the other? It’s what I said earlier, the author can’t prop up Richard and Anne without putting down all other couples in this book. By the end of the book I was honestly finding myself cheering for Elizabeth Woodville as she was becoming the woman with sense and cunning as we all know her, the saving grace of this entire characterisation was that Elizabeth became the only person with a brain by the end (I doubt this was the author’s intention). Down here in this category of bad characterisation I will add Richard and Anne themselves. Anne Neville though often absolutely adorable to me lacked any personality trait apart from being in love with Richard and past sexual abuse by Edward (which didn’t historically happen). Anne’s father and only sister die and she barely thinks about them, which severely undermines her portrayal as a loving and empathetic person. Her death scene and wane was tragic and affected me as a reader but holy Christ before that the author was very heavy handed throughout the book with her martyrisation of Anne, even when she was a young girl and everything was going well she cried in nearly every goddamn scene. Yes, this is Warwick’s daughter we are talking about. Richard (unlike the real great man that once lived on this earth) was similarly flawless and any small flaw he had was something like: ‘too trusting’, ‘acts then thinks’ - essentially ‘too good for this world’ flaws. No one is like this, least of all the real Richard who would not recognise this weird contrived romanticisation of a man. The saving grace of all this is that he admitted around the end to himself and Anne that he did want to be king a little bit, which YES, at least we get that because no one goes through all the procedures he did and endangers the survival of their house, unless they wanted to become king, at least a little bit. All in all, if Penman’s Richard III is the real man, all I have to say is: thank god his reign was cut short because this character would have made a terrible and weak monarch.

Prose: And here is where another of the stars was deducted. The prose is largely very pedestrian. It was full of modern phrases such as ‘hear me out’, ‘He thinks I am in the wrong’ ‘he can’t get away with this’ and other such likes. Also, I know it’s difficult to write a book where everyone’s names are Elizabeth, Edward, Richard and Anne, but apart from ‘Nan’ which was a nickname of that time, the modernity of ‘Bess’, ‘Bella’ or ‘Lisbet’ and the use of them in-text and not just dialogue, did much to draw me out of the medieval era. This is not just a criticism towards Penman but a grand majority of historical fiction novelists of this period. Having said that, her choice to cut conjunctions and use the word ‘be’ intead of ‘is’ or ‘are’ did not bother me at all and I found it effective in dating the language a bit. I appreciate that writing in poetic prose for 800+ pages is extremely difficult, but other’s have done it. And even in other novel where that’s not the case, the writing is still profound and impactful and conveys a deeper meaning, whereas here it’s more of a fictionalised history book. The author appears to have some imagination as the few scenes she made up e.g. Catherine Woodville’s visit to Richard or Edward summoning Edmund’s previous carer John to talk about Edmund as he was trying to deal with the grief of losing George, any scene with Cecily Neville in it, Anne Neville and Veronique (OC lady-in-waiting to her) when they were in hiding, Rosamund and Richard at the end, Margaret of Anjou when she was lodged at that abbey, When Stillington visited George before his death to give him a rosary and last rites and he refused to get them from him, Anne and Richard going to Middleham and Isabel’s lying in state were just some of them. However, even if you took all those well-written scenes and stuck them together they would not be more than maybe 150 pages which is not good in such a massive novel. I really don’t know how I would rank the prose, I feel weird saying it’s at the low bestseller level because at least it’s not overwritten and annoying, however, it lacked a lot of soul most of the time, which is dissapointing given what Penman had to work with. I can see that the author has some strengths, for example she’s good at writing about the weather and the natural landscape, she’s also good at describing facial expressions. But her massive flaw is dialogue and flow - especially the latter. The flow is hindered by her abject inability to weave historical events and their happenings into the prose, so she often settles for an exposition dump, especially when it comes to some male chatacter’s POV such as John Howard, Francis Lovell or Buckingham. A lot of the characters exposited at each other too, which wasted the opportunity for some serious character profiles. Basically too much telling and not enough showing. In conclusion, It didn’t always feel clunky, expository or laboured, but it way too often did for the good to be redeemed by the bad prose-wise.

In Conclusion, I cheated on this book a couple of times when it dragged, but got right back into it whenever the good sections came along. It is one of these books which people cannot stop raving about and I can’t stress how much I wanted to love it when I got it. It’s nice being a fan of something a lot of people are too for once, but it was just not to be. But at least now I can say I have read the cult classic of this histfic niche which apparently everyone has read and cried over. Even though it took me 7 months where others got through it in a week through sleepless nights. Despite all the negativity in this review, I would still reccomend it as it is a solid book and written by someone who clearly gets the conflict and time period. You will learn lots with this book (I intend to keep it as a sort of timeline) regarding things that you might otherwise find too dry to research in depth e.g. battle strategies and sieges. But what you will not learn about is the characters’ psychologies and personalities though Penman tries very hard and heavy-handedly to exposit their feelings to us.

#lady-plantagenet’s book reviews #the sunne in splendour #sharon kay penman #Richard III #if anyone disagrees or agrees i’d love to know your opinion #just send me an ask #historical fiction #Anne Neville #George of Clarence #Edward IV #Elizabeth Woodville #House of York

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jane-fucking-seymour · 5 years ago

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Slander, Libel and Blasphemy

I owed @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts a fic SK here y’all go

Jane was told not to read this article.

That’s exactly what Katherine had said to her, having stormed into Cathy’s room the night before, angrily yelling about things that Jane couldn’t really hear thanks to the other sounds of the flat and surrounding area. She did, however, hear “how could they say that about Edward?,” which made Jane more than curious about what was going on.

She had tried to talk to Kat about it, but the girl refused to say anything, winded from her yelling at Cathy. Instead, she had asked to go downstairs, to be excused from the conversation. Jane obviously let her, though it did not quell her worry.

Later that night, Katherine had “wandered” into the living room, curled up to Jane, and went on and on about how brilliant Edward was, how he reminded Kat of Jane, of how she can see his mother in him now that she’s met her.

It’s all but confirmed that she needed to find whatever Katherine had read.

She goes to her number one suspect: Catherine Parr. Before she even opens her mouth, Cathy gives her a sympathetic smile and a magazine.

“Page 74,” Cathy says. “I won’t deny you knowledge, but...” she frowns. “It’s rough. And, from my personal experience, I can say that she’s wrong.”

[[MORE]]

Jane simply nods silently and moves away, back to the living room, where it was safe from Katherine’s observant gaze and away from anyone that could possibly hear her, if she kept her voice down at least.

She takes a deep breath, opens the page to 74, and her heart instantly shatters.

The title:

“Edward Could Have Been Worse Than His Father If He Had Lived Long Enough”

Jane sucks in a deep breath, tears already starting to form. She reads word after word, paragraph after paragraph, the details of the argument fueling a rage inside of her that she hasn’t felt since back then.

They call him cold and heartless.

They call him strict and emotionless.

They don’t call him her son.

It’s like she’s reading about some other boy, about someone that truly isn’t Edward. How could they vilify him so much? He was just a boy, he died so early, and people had the gall to still desecrate his name and image centuries after his last breath.

Was he truly to be the villain if he lived longer?

Had she failed as a mother in more ways than she originally anticipated?

What did this mean?

Before she realized what she was doing, Jane was on her feet, moving upstairs. She moved past Anne’s room, past Anna’s, past Cathy’s and Katherine’s and her own, straight to...

“Jane?”

The sleep in Catherine of Aragon’s voice made it clear that Jane’s sudden barging in had woken her up. Maria, who had been visiting overnight, sat up from her side of the bed with a curious look.

“Jane, what’s wrong? It’s 2 AM-“ Catherine starts, looking at the clock, but her attention is immediately diverted to the article that Jane thrusts in front of her.

Catherine turns on the nightstand, wincing at the light, before she looks down at the magazine. Maria reads over her shoulder, gaze going from curious to angry to sympathy.

“Oh, Jane-“

“They said he would have been a monster,” Jane growls out with anger she hasn’t expressed in decades. “They said he would have turned.... h-he would have turned out like him. Like Henry.”

“He wouldn’t have, Jane,” Catherine tries, but Jane is seeing red, a rare display of raw emotion from the third queen.

“Do they even know what they’re doing when they write this shite?” Jane asks, voice a harsh whisper. “Do they understand that he was a child, that’s what he is. He wasn’t even a young adult when he died, he was a child. And they just... they try to murder his reputation for what?” She shakes her head, shaking with anger. “They take my boy and they make him-“

“Into a monster,” Catherine finishes the sentence. Jane stops and turns to half-face Catherine. Maria has gently hugged the girl from behind, but even in the pale moonlight Jane can tell that no tears will be shed by the first. “I can relate to that. Then turning your child into a monster.”

It suddenly strikes Jane why she came here in the first place.

It calms Jane down a bit, starting to catch her breath. “I didn’t-“

“I know,” Catherine says, understanding and soft. “I know. But I think you also did know, in a way. I think you understood.”

Jane looks away in shame, and Catherine chuckles.

“So theyre trying to push this narrative on little Eddie, huh?” Catherine asks, tone a bit more playful and amused than it probably should be. “He was brilliant, from what I heard from Cathy.”

“He was,” Jane says, tone resolute. “He absolutely was. And he would have been if he hadn’t-“

“He had Cathy,” Catherine replies, giving the magazine to Maria to read through fully. “He wouldn’t have. He loved her.”

Jane nods. “Like she was his mother, yeah.”

A moment of silence, then Jane continues.

“I don’t blame him. Cathy is... and incredible woman.”

“She is,” Catherine agrees. “And she raised him well, when you couldn’t. Same with Elizabeth, same with my Mary.”

Catherine gently stands, moving to Jane and pulling her into a hug.

“It’s okay, love. They’re going to do this regardless of what we do. It will be okay.”

“It all sounds like a fanfic or something,” Maria mumbles, which gets Jane’s confused attention.

“A what?”

“What Maria is trying to say,” Catherine butts in, “is that this is all someone’s theory. That it’s not something that people actually believe, it’s just something that someone’s made up.”

“Which means the narrative hasn’t set in yet,” Maria says. “You don’t have centuries of so-called “history” to dismantle. You’ve got a few theories and short stories to debunk.”

“It’s a good thing,” Catherine assures. “People are already on your side. If you’d like, tomorrow, we can draw up a plan on how to respond.” Catherine smiles, gently pulling back to fix up Jane’s hair and grabs a tissue to dry Jane’s eyes. “I’m sure Cathy and the others would love to pitch in. Most of them knew him, too, after all, and Anne has Elizabeth’s account from the history books. It’s human.” Catherine leans forward, kissing Jane’s head. “And I’m sure it will be enough. With all of us together taking on this rather new theory... I’m sure we can nip it in the bud.”

Jane smiles at that, relief clear on her face. “I... thank you, Catherine. Thank you so much.”

The Spanish Queen smiles and nods, gently leading Jane not to her own room, but to Katherine’s.

“Go on then, Kat is a good cuddle and I’m sure you could use some,” Catherine quips, smiling as Jane gets as close to Kat as possible, tucking both of them in. Katherine, in her sleep, mumbles something and curls into Jane more. Jane chuckles, smoothing out Kat’s hair as she gets comfortable.

Catherine steps out of the room, leaving the duo to their slumber, and quietly returns to her own room, where Maria was still reading.

“This is rubbish,” Maria mumbles as Catherine moves into the bed. “It’s the same author as the one that wrote that hit piece on Mary the other day.”

“It wasn’t really,” Catherine says with a sigh. “That was far more factual. She didn’t put in her thoughts until the end, and I think she made some good points. Whatever drivel she wrote about Edward, though, is just... well, I don’t know what else to call it but rubbish.”

Maria nods, tossing the magazine onto the floor and letting Catherine curl up.

“We’ll make sure it doesn’t get farther than it is,” Catherine says with a nod. “I’ve no doubt in my mind that this will all be sorted once we get everyone together in the morning.”

Maria nods. “You’re a very good person, Catalina.”

Catherine chuckles. “He doesn’t deserve to be fed to the wolves. He was a child. And, if I’m being honest... I don’t know if my Mary would agree with me, but I don’t want Edwards legacy to be tarnished more than it has been.”

Maria sighs, murmuring in Spanish, and Catherine has to laugh before she simply burrows her head in the crook of Maria’s neck.

“Quiet you,” Catherine quips. “Bedtime, or I’m kicking you back to the living room.”

“Can’t believe you thought I was going to sleep on the couch after a full day of dealing with the cousin’s antics,” Maria mumbles, but she settles and Catherine soon falls into a light sleep.

She dreams of Mary. Of what could have been.

Of how she didn’t have the chance Jane currently does.

Of how, tomorrow, she will change that.

#six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six fanfiction

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michelles-garden-of-evil · 4 years ago

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Episode 40 Review: In Which Matt Calls Out Jean Paul (Redux)

{ YouTube: 1 | 2 | 3 }

{ Full Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

Welcome back to my Garden of Evil, the blog where I review and affectionately snark on Canada’s own all-American TV series, Strange Paradise. To my shock, Danny Horn of Dark Shadows Every Day (who introduced me to this delightfully crazy soap with his far more critical reviews) is back to posting more frequently than I do, which isn’t really relevant to this post save that I would not have expected it a year ago. (But then, there are many, many things that happened over this past year that I did not expect.) I would have posted this one sooner, but some urgent matters came up last week and I had to postpone.

Four episodes have passed since eccentric billionaire Jean Paul Desmond’s disastrous failed séance to contact his beloved late wife Erica. Medium and Conjure Woman Vangie Abbott has recovered from her injury, she and Raxl have tried (unsuccessfully) to decode the message in the sand writing box, and now Jean Paul insists on holding another séance! The other characters are trying to figure out how and why the ceremony was disrupted: most accuse Jean Paul of trying to murder them with the falling chandelier, while Vangie announces during the opening recap that she suspects the Reverend Matt Dawson of being a disruptive influence because of his disbelief in voodoo. Now sparks fly once again as another argument erupts between the Reverend and Jean Paul at an emergency meeting in the Great Hall.

Now, let’s begin.

We open with Jean Paul’s first tape recorder journal entry in a while, which is an exposition device that I had been missing mostly because I like mooning over Colin Fox while listening to his gorgeous voice:

Jean Paul: "Erica, my sweet wife, until the day comes when science can restore you to me, can release you from the cryonic suspension colder than ice, as cold as my empty life, I will continue trying to contact you through a séance. You must know the great effort I am making to protect you! But was the evil of Jacques Eloi des Mondes enough to prevent us from making contact at the séance that failed? Erica, believe me! I fought him with all my strength! I held him at bay, but he could not have got through unaided! These people in this house, Erica, I have been thinking about them: are they in consort with the Devil? Which one prevented me from hearing your sweet voice again, my Erica? Which one? If I knew-"

Caught him reading the Teleprompter! (That happens a lot in this episode, by the way.) Also, have I ever mentioned how much I love the lighting in his monitor room?

He stops recording when he sees Holly on the monitor, searching once again for that sweet secret passage in the crypt that she overheard the Reverend mention several episodes ago. Freaking out again over the possibility of danger to Erica’s cryonics capsule, he rushes down to the Great Hall and declares an emergency meeting:

Jean Paul shouting at his detained guests.

"Reverend Dawson, Mr. Stanton, I'm beginning to realize that you have not fully grasped my ruling!" Jean Paul shouts in his most pompous tone. "Now, to each and every one of you, this is most important, and how important it is you will all find out!"

Matt having a scared. I don’t usually find Dan MacDonald cute, but I think he is in this shot.

Quito guarding Holly as she hides in the crypt.

"EVERYBODY!” the Master of Maljardin shouts. “EVERYONE WITHIN THE SOUND OF MY VOICE!" [Line flub? His wording is odd.] "EVERYONE! COME TO THE GREAT HALL! DO YOU HEAR ME? EVERYONE IN THIS HOUSE! THIS IS JEAN PAUL DESMOND CALLING! COME TO THE GREAT HALL AT ONCE! YOU TOO, HOLLY MARSHALL! NOW, ONCE AND FOR ALL, YOU WILL ALL GET THE MESSAGE!"

Jean Paul’s crazy eyes in this scene indicate that he means business.

Everyone gathers in the Great Hall, save Holly and Quito (who are hiding in the basement), Dan Forrest (who is probably in the tub), and Raxl (who isn’t there because Cosette Lee had the day off). Dr. Alison Carr is particularly annoyed, because she could be spending this time researching how to resurrect Erica, but instead is stuck listening to her brother-in-law’s latest hissy fit. Oddly enough, even though Jean Paul acts like a complete ass in this episode, Fox-C looks even more stunning than usual. I can’t explain why, but to me he looks especially handsome during Weeks 8 through 11 of the show. That certain je ne sais quoi of his just comes out particularly strongly during this period.

Jean Paul is so angry that you can see his jaw tensing.

Of all the detained guests in the room, he chooses to pick a fight with Matt, because that worked out so well for him five episodes ago. Elizabeth finds this highly amusing and comments with one of her best lines:

Elizabeth: "It seems to be your opportunity to entertain, Reverend. May I suggest Song of Solomon?"

Jean Paul doesn’t laugh, despite it being arguably the funniest joke anyone other than Jacques has made so far. I, too, want to hear Matt read from the Song of Solomon. Perhaps he has recorded a sermon about it for his album:

Matt’s album, You Can’t Fake Fruit, featuring his sermon “Wherever God Builds a House of Prayer, the Devil Builds a Chapel There” and selections from the Song of Solomon.

I’m not going to recap or quote their entire fight blow by blow, because I just don’t feel like it--and besides, these kinds of overly dramatic yelling matches are more fun to watch for yourself. However, I will note some highlights:

Matt suspects Jean Paul of murdering Dr. Menkin because of how soon he died after Erica. “Who can say how he died?” he asks as a rhetorical question before proclaiming overconfidently, “There, your control over this island begins to disintegrate!”

He also continues to oppose the notion that the Devil caused any of the events on the island, including the chandelier falling: “The chandelier falls, and it’s blamed on the Devil. And you accept these...superstitious reactions of a few, which are driving all of us beyond the bounds of reason!”

There’s a lot of focus on Holly, as you might expect, given that she‘s been searching in the crypt and also given Matt’s obsession with her. I’m glad he’s trying to protect her from Jean Paul now, even though I will always ship him with his right hand.

Alison stands up to Jean Paul and leaves in the middle of the argument. Good for her! Of course, after she leaves, Jean Paul has to passive-aggressively announce to everyone else that she will regret it.

Vangie tells Jean Paul and Matt that “when a devil works through a man, what he does is not an accident,” referring to the time that Dan allegedly damaged the cryocapsule. Jean Paul latches onto this idea, which Matt objects to because he believes it’s a ploy to turn everyone on the island against each other. So Jean Paul accuses Matt next of evil, which is not a question that most people will answer honestly. Ask Jacques if he’s evil and he will openly admit to it; ask someone like Elizabeth, on the other hand, and she will deny it.

Matt being what the kids today would call “a mood.”

Vangie on Matt: “Because he is a man of the cloth--a religious man--he made the contact [with Erica], but because of his disbelief in the spirits, the chain was weakened, the contact breaks. I would say that whenever the Devil is loose, anything or anyone can be his tool.”

I would say that Jean Paul in this episode is a tool, albeit a very handsome one.

Even his anger can’t disguise his cuteness.

Jean Paul ends the argument by threatening to punish Holly for invading the crypt. “Now you will see what happens to those who intrude on Erica’s resting place,” he tells the others and Elizabeth responds with this interesting, cryptic line:

So she approves of Jean Paul’s anger at her “impossible” daughter, but she doesn’t want him to punish her? Also note that she is eerily calm when she delivers this line.

In the next scene, Jean Paul gives Holly some serious mixed messages along the lines of the time my grandfather (with whom I used to live) told me “don’t worry about it” when he noticed my cat scratching at my bedroom door, then threw a fit over the (barely) damaged carpet a few hours later. I moved out of his house two and a half years ago but, up until recently, I got nervous any time anyone told me not to worry about something, because he’d often say things like “don’t worry about it” and “take it easy” shortly before he lost his temper over the very same things he told me not to worry about. In a similar vein, Jean Paul first tells Holly to “go ahead” into the crypt, only to then start ranting about how he thinks that some people on the island want the cryocapsule to break down and want to tell the authorities about what he’s doing on Maljardin.

“Now, what were you looking for, Miss Marshall?” he asks her menacingly after his rant.

“I wouldn’t touch that!” she replies, referring to the capsule. “I want you to bring your wife back to life!”

“Then what were you here for!”

“Looking for a way out!” She turns away from him, clutching her head. “Trying to get away from all this. I can’t stand it anymore!”

“I am going to have to make an example of you,” Jean Paul threatens.

“I was only looking for a secret door,” she protests, then explains how he (actually Jacques) led her down there to show him where she thought the secret passage was three episodes ago.

Before he can respond to her, Alison comes rushing down to the crypt to tell him about the notes of Dr. Menkin’s that Jacques left in her lab in Episode 38, which cover part of the previously missing six-week period of his experiments:

Sure, Jacques *might* answer, but only if he feels like it.

Jean Paul tells Alison, “guard these [notes] with your life,” and the episode ends, which means it’s time to discuss the Lost Episode summary. Normally, I do so in either the introduction or at a point in the episode where a plot point was changed, but here the events of the original episode differed so much from those of the final aired version that I decided to discuss them after my recap.

The Lost Episode 40

To begin, here is the summary for the original Episode 40:

Source: The Plain Dealer (November 7, 1969), p. 72.

So the second séance originally took place in this episode and involved a conflict between two spirits. But who? We know for certain the identity of one of these spirits, courtesy of these summaries for Episodes 41 and 42, respectively:

Source: Ibid, p. 84.

Source: Ibid., p. 88.

A slightly longer version of the latter summary from The Fitchburg Sentinel names this priestess Tarasca, the same figure who appeared in a puff of smoke in the original Episode 35 and whose existence apparently threatens Alison’s life. While most summaries of the original Episode 44 (including the one in The Plain Dealer) mention hallucinations, this one from The Minneapolis Star (November 13, 1969) specifically mentions that the hallucination took place at the séance:

Holly searches for the secret passageway when her sleeping mother re-lives the happenings at the séance.

So we know the identity of one of the fighting spirits from the second séance, but who is the other? This summary for Episode 38 states that Jacques promised Vangie that he wouldn’t interfere a second time, but can we really rely on him to keep his promises? (I believe that he most likely summoned Tarasca to mess with the second séance on his behalf while technically not getting involved in it himself.) Still, even considering Jacques’ lack of trustworthiness, it would make more sense for the other spirit to be Erica, given that the whole purpose of both séances is to contact her.

Curiously, another thing we know about the second séance is that Matt took part in it, because Vangie told him that Holly would be in danger if he refused. I know I called the summary for last episode boring, but hearing the way Vangie talks about him in this episode has made me rethink my previous dismissal of its importance. If Vangie demanded that Matt attend the second séance, that means that she must not have considered Matt a disruptive influence in the original, or at least not enough to exclude him.

Who else attended the séance? At the very least, Vangie, Matt, Jean Paul and Elizabeth, but logically Raxl and Quito as well because of their involvement in the Conjure Faith. Alison may also have attended, but I doubt it because (1) Vangie prefers séances with either five or seven participants including the spirit and (2) Alison is getting increasingly fed up with Jean Paul and may have refused to take part.

The mention of Holly being in danger also raises an additional question: which spirit was threatening her, Erica or Tarasca? For my attempt to answer that question--which would contain some spoilers if I included it here--you will have to wait for a future analysis.

Coming up next: The Bad Subtitle Special for Week 8, followed by a very special essay comparing Strange Paradise to the H. P. Lovecraft novella The Case of Charles Dexter Ward and its 1963 film adaptation The Haunted Palace. After that, a review of Episode 41.

{<- Previous: Episode 39 || Next: Episode 41 ->}

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hms-chill · 5 years ago

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RWRB Study Guide: Chapter 10

Hi y’all! I’m going through Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue and defining/explaining references! Feel free to follow along, or block the tag #rwrbStudyGuide if you’re not interested!

Earl Grey (267): Earl Grey tea is an incredibly common caffeinated tea. It is the base of a London fog.

Hamilton to Laurens, “you should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent” (267): This quote is from an April 1779 letter and is immediately followed by “But, as you have done it, and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on one condition; that for my sake, of not your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into me”. Essentially, “you were rude to me, but I love you so much I forgive you as long as you look after yourself”. Just before it, Hamilton’s like “you taught me what it means to love”. (You can find it here)

Pyramus and Thisbe (268): The pair of lovers whose story inspired Romeo and Juliet, they were separated and could only talk through a wall between their houses (I’ve written a very in-depth analysis of this myth, which you can find here).

Dulles International to Heathrow (268): Dulles International is the airport in Washington, DC, and Heathrow is the classy airport in London.

John Cusack (270): An American actor largely known for his roles in the 1980s. This line in particular likely references Say Anything..., a romantic comedy known in part for a scene where Cusack’s character stands outside a girl’s window and plays music from a boombox.

Y’all had to marry your cousins (270): A reference to the royal tradition of only marrying other royals, which led to a whole lot of inbreeding.

Consummation (275): To consummate a marriage is to have sex for the first time, therefore making it “official”.

Wilde’s complete works (276): Oscar Wilde is an Irish author famous for writing satires and also defining gay culture in the late 1800s.

Fit of pique (277): If someone does something in a fit of pique, they do it spontaneously and out of anger at being wronged.

Mr. Darcy brooding at Pemberley (278): In Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (spoilers, though it’s been out for 207 years), after Elizabeth rejects Darcy’s first marriage proposal (which is essentially “your family sucks but you’re hot; marry me”), he goes back to the house his family owns and thinks about it and misses her.

Anmer Hall (278): A house owned by the Crown in Norfolk, England; it is currently home to Prince William, Duke of Cambridge.

Mel and Sue (280): A comedy duo and hosts of The Great British Bake Off. Sue was outed in 2002, but claims that “being a lesbian is only about the 47th most interesting thing about me”.

South Kensington (284): A district of West London known for its high density of museums and cultural landmarks.

Prince Consort Road (284): Prince Consort Road is a street in London named after Prince Albert, consort to Queen Victoria. A consort is a royal’s spouse or partner (hence Alex laughing at the idea of his being a prince’s consort)

Ferris Bueller/ Sloane (284-285): Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is a popular movie from the 1980s about Ferris, who skips school for a day of wild shenanigans in Chicago. Sloane is his girlfriend who’s roped in for the ride.

Victoria and Albert Museum* (285): The Victoria and Albert Museum, often abbreviated “V&A”, is the world’s largest museum of applied and decorative art and design. (you can explore their collections here)

Renaissance City (285): Room 50a of the V&A is full of Renaissance sculptures. (photo here)

Seated Buddha in black stone (285): The V&A has a bunch of Buddha sculptures, but this one is the only one I saw that’s in black stone.

John the Baptist nude and in bronze (285): Possibly this piece from 1881 by French sculptor Auguste Rodin and is in the V&A’s collection.

Tipu’s Tiger (285): A nearly life-sized semi-automaton that shows a tiger mauling a man in European clothes. The tiger makes growling sounds and the man screams and waves his hand when a handle on the side is turned; it also contains a small pipe organ on the inside and was created to show the power that the Tipu Sultan of India held over invading Brits. The “give it back” that Catherine argues for is officially called repatriation, it would mean that (Western) museums have to give back stolen objects; British museums are famously bad at doing this. (see Tipu’s Tiger here)

Westminster (286): Westminster Abbey, a church in London where royals are crowned and buried. It is covered with intricate carvings and beautiful stained glass.

The Great Bed of Ware (286): A bed made by Hans Vredeman de Vries from the 1590s; it is ten feet wide and made of oak. (see it here)

Twelfth Night (286): A Shakespeare comedy full of chaos that includes a woman cross-dressing, then her twin brother being mistaken for her.

Epocoene (286): A 1609 play that includes a boy dressing as a woman to dupe a man into giving his son an acceptable inheritance.

Don Juan (286): A Spanish figure known for his powers for wooing women; the first text published about him was in the 1630s.

Florence (287): Florence is a city known for its art; it was the cultural center of the Italian renaissance.

Gothic choir screen in the V&A’s Renaissance City (287): This Roodloft, or choir screen, carved by Coenraed van Norenberch is in the back of the Renaissance City in the V&A. It’s a stunning piece; the link above has great pictures and a more in-depth description than I could give.

Zephyr statue by Francavilla (287): You can see this statue here; it was one of thirteen statues commissioned for the garden of a villa near Florence. According to Greek mythology, Zephyr (the west wind) was married to Chloris, goddess of flowers.

Narcissus (by Cioli) (287): This statue may have once been the centerpiece to a fountain with Narcissus looking into an actual pool; it depicts him in the moment he sees and is mesmerised by his reflection.

Pluto stealing Proserpina (287): Likely the statue “The Rape of Proserpina” by Vincenzo de' Rossi. I couldn’t find it on the V&A’s site, but there’s more info here.

Jason with the Golden Fleece (287): This is a sculpture of a very naked Jason, the Greek hero who stole the golden fleece. He was helped by its owner’s daughter, who was in love with him, but whom he later abandoned. You can see the statue here.

Samson Slaying a Philistine (287): You can see this statue here. Henry does a pretty good job of explaining the incredible history behind it; all I have to add from my (limited) research is that it is remarkable in part for the fact that there is no one point on it that draws the eye-- it demands to be looked at completely or not at all.

Victoria and sodomy laws (288): Queen Victoria famously instituted a whole lot of anti-sodomy laws.

Viau on James/George (288): A 1623 poem by Théophile de Viau:

“Apollo with his songs

Debauched young Hyacinthus

Just as Corydon fucked Amyntas,

So Caesar did not spurn boys.

One man fucks Monsieur le Grand de Bellegarde [a friend of Viau],

Another fucks the Comte de Tonnerre.

And it is well known that the King of England

Fucks the Duke of Buckingham.”

“Christ had John, and I have George” (288): This is an actual thing that James I/VI said to the heads of the church. Here’s the full quote, from wikipedia (emphasis is my own): “I, James, am neither a god nor an angel, but a man like any other. Therefore I act like a man and confess to loving those dear to me more than other men. You may be sure that I love the Earl of Buckingham more than anyone else, and more than you who are here, assembled. I wish to speak in my own behalf and not to have it thought to be a defect, for Jesus Christ did the same, and therefore I cannot be blamed. Christ had John, and I have George.”

George iii (289): George III was the king against whom the American colonies revolted. He was deeply religious and instituted laws declaring that royals could not marry without the approval of the court.

Convent church of Santa Chiara in Florence (290): This church is no longer a church, but the altar chapel is in an alcove in the V&A. It is the only Italian Renaissance chapel outside of Italy. (you can see photos of it here and here)

Santa Chiara and Saint Francis of Assisi (290): Saint Francis of Assisi founded a few different monastic orders and is one of the most celebrated saints; Saint Clare of Assisi founded a women’s monastic order and wrote the first set of monastic guidelines by a woman.

Blessed Mother (290): Mary, the mother of Jesus, one of the holiest figures in Catholicism.

“Come, hijo mío, de la miel, porque es Buena, and the honeycomb sweet to thy taste”** (290): “My son, eat thou honey, because it is good; and the honeycomb, which is sweet to thy taste. So shall the knowledge of wisdom be unto thy soul: when thou hast found it, then there shall be a reward, and thy expectation shall not be cut off” -- Proverbs 24:13-14, King James Version (yes, that King James. He translated the Bible to make the church stop hating him).

David and Jonathan (290): An aggressively gay couple from the Bible who have been presented as friends for centuries. Jonathan was a prince and David a shepherd, but God promised that David would be king one day. Rather than argue this or hate David for it, Jonathan welcomed David into his household and loved him despite the prophecy that he would one day usurp him. Following Jonathan’s death, David took in Jonathan’s son and looked after him.

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, amen (291): Many Christian prayers end with “in the name of the Father, the son, and of the Holy Spirit, amen”. It’s a way of celebrating the god who gives you all of the good things in your life while also giving up control to them.

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A fill in from chapter 1, as requested by someone on AO3:

Deputy Chief of Staff (Zahra’s position, 23): The Deputy Chief of Staff is the top aide to the president’s top aide, and is responsible for ensuring that everything runs smoothly within the bureaucracy of the White House.

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*This museum puts out books called “maker’s guides” that teach you how to make pieces based on things in their collections; they’re super duper cool.

**I’m not a theologian, but I am a pastor’s kid, and just... this gets me. This whole bit, but this Proverb especially. Like obviously there’s the “oh we’re kissing and I’m thinking about honey tasting sweet”, but verse 14 coming in with the “when you’ve found what’s right, you will be rewarded with the confidence of that rightness and you will have hope”? Just kill me outright next time. Don’t make me google my own murder weapon.

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If there’s anything I missed or that you’d like more on, please let me know! And if you’d like to/are able, please consider buying me a ko-fi? I know not everyone can, and that’s fine, but these things take a lot of time/work and I’d really appreciate it!

—–-

Chapter 1 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 11

#this is for that anon who thinks I'm smart and cute #but y'all can read it too #rwrb study guide #rwrb analysis #English Major Brain™#English Major Brain™️#rwrb #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor x alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #june claremont diaz #nora holleran #pez okonjo #bea fox mountchristen windsor #firstprince #red white and royal blue

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callunavulgari · 6 years ago

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TOP 25 FICS OF 2019

1. these roads will take you into your own country by @notbecauseofvictories | American Gods | Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney | WIP | 33k

Here’s a joke for you: a Muslim, a zombie, and a leprechaun walk into a bar in Misery, Indiana. No one stares, because no one in the puckered, shitty asshole of Misery, Indiana gives a fuck. The Colts are playing.

Heather Says: So. It’s funny that another of @notbecauseofvictories‘s stories is at the top of my list again this year. Keep in mind this list is sorted by when the fic was read rather than favorites (because that would get real complicated real quick). Clearly there must be something about January. There’s just something about the writing that is easy to slip into, be it a Star Wars fic or a Labyrinth fic or even a fic about Johnny and the Devil. This was lovely and I can’t wait until it’s finished.

2. eighteen wheels on an uphill climb by @honkforhankcon | Detroit: Become Human | Hank/Connor | 91k

Hank is going to die. He’s going to die right here in Kentucky, 53 years old, halfway to broke, and tragically sober. Survived only by a nine-year-old St. Bernard and the 31-year-old twink who delivered the fatal blow.

Heather Says: I don’t think that this is the first DBH fic that I sought out after beating the game, but it is the first that I loved enough to make it to this list. I didn’t think that I would go for a modern au for this fandom, certainly not a modern au wihere Hank is a truck driver and Connor is a sex worker (albeit briefly?) but here I am.

3. Fuck pride (pride only hurts, it never helps) by ImogenGotDrunk | Detroit: Become Human | RK900/Gavin Reed | 41k

After the android uprising, Connor becomes a permanent fixture in the DPD. That’s fine. Gavin can accept that. The dipshit’s more human than he used to be, and a decent detective to boot. Gavin can deal with him being around. What Gavin cannot deal with is Connor’s replica; two inches taller, blue-eyed, and with a mouth that Gavin doesn’t know whether to punch or take between his teeth. The RK900 model has been assigned as his partner for the foreseeable future.

Heather Says: I also never thought that I’d like a fic with Gavin in it. But I got curious about all the Reed900, and well, this fic really won me over. The writing is fantastic, and it softens Gavin while still keeping him believable. Also, well, I like the enemies to lovers thing.

4. Almost Cool by @blacktofade | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 30k

While filming the Yuma Territorial Prison episode, Shane gets bitten by what he thinks is a bat. Spoiler alert: it's not.

Heather Says: This is actually the first thing that I read for this fandom. In fact, this is the fic that got me into Buzzfeed Unsolved in the first place. I’d seen a lot of art and gifs and fics pass my way, but I was only ever slightly interested in what I saw until this fic came through my inbox and piqued my curiosity.

5. Pride by @astolat | Game of Thrones | Jaime/Brienne/Cersei | 22k

Jaime didn’t understand why Cersei suddenly insisted on trimming his hair and shaving his beard, but he also didn’t care to fight her on it, even though he’d just as soon have kept the beard: it was bitterly cold in the small tower room with its arrow-slits.

Heather Says: Wowza. This fic was intense. I’ve always loved Jaime and Brienne. I’ve loved them since the second book, which was read at least a few years before I started loving them in the show. Adding Cersei to their dynamic would have probably been almost impossible to pull off if it was anyone else, but @astolat lives to surpass my expectations.

6. Skin and Scales by Ernmark | The Penumbra Podcast | Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla | 18k

The man glares, and this time, Damien is certain it isn’t a trick of the light: those eyes are violet as amethyst. He wears disdain like a second skin–- or, perhaps, like the scales that he is missing. “Lord Arum?”

Heather Says: I was one of those people who skipped through all of the Second Citadel episodes during my first listen through of Penumbra. The stories were good, but the pull of Juno was too great. A couple months after I finished, I went back and listened to everything I didn’t. And let me tell you. Lizard monster. Honorable knight. Bookish girlfriend. Poly. It hit every single button I had and then some. This fic really hit the spot when I ran out of story.

7. someone you like by caela | She-Ra | Adora/Catra | 5k

catwithabat u think ur so hipster but u just look like a lesbian 27m she_ra @catwithabat bc… i’m a lesbian. lmao 5m

Heather Says: Noooot usually a big fan of high school fics. Namely because I’m not in high school anymore and well, after you read so many in your teenage years they sort of lose their luster. This one was phenomenal enough to change my mind.

8. Sands of Time by @tirsynni | Legend of Zelda | Ganondorf/Link | WIP | 98k

Link awakens in the desert with no idea how he got there, to encounter his worst enemy...except it was the King of the Gerudo, not the King of Evil, he faced.

Heather Says: I have seen a lot of really good Link/Ganondorf art over the years, but never really stumbled across a fic that didn’t have judicious amount of non-con involved. But the Breath of the Wild 2 trailer happened, and everybody started drawing really pretty art, so I went looking. And lo and behold, @tirsynni saved the day with this gorgeous time travel/fix-it fic.

9. killed with kindness by veterization | Persona 5 | Akechi/Akira | 52k

Goro can't quite figure out why so many people keep acting like they're his friend. (Or: the one where the Phantom Thieves decide to know thy enemy, befriend thy enemy, love thy enemy, crush on thy enemy).

Heather Says: I’ve read a couple of veterization’s fics over the years, and to date they have never disappointed me. They published this in June, and I think I clicked on it mostly because I was bored and hadn’t read any good P5 fic yet. This was basically just what the doctor ordered, and I was really happy to find something where Akechi’s story went ever so slightly different.

10. paper thin by @ebonybow | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane/Sara | 9k

Shane’s new neighbors are a morning-sex kind of couple.

Heather Says: So I went into this one knowing very little about how Sara fit into things. I didn’t know she was Shane’s girlfriend. I’d never even seen her, but I clicked because I like poly and I trust the author. I was 100% not disappointed. There’s also another fic with a very similar dynamic here, which is also aces.

11. damn.nation, now available on itunes by @kaikamahine | Good Omens | Aziraphale/Crowley | 11k

When lowly tempt-pusher Amphora (formerly of Stairwell 7B North, before she Fell,) gets the notice that end times are nigh, she gleefully quits her job and cancels her Netflix subscription and takes her place among the legions of hell. This, it turns out, was a bad plan.

Heather Says: Elizabeth may have only written one fic this year, but she made it a damn good one. I’ve always loved her OCs especially, so I was pretty tickled that this is 10k+ of outsider pov. Also, demons! Demons are great! This demon is great! I want like 9 seasons and a movie about Amphora, just saying.

12. The Dragon and Her Wolves by hapakitsune | Game of Thrones | Jon/Sansa/Daenarys | 60k

When the truth of Jon's birthright is revealed, control of the North and Daenerys's claim to the Iron Throne are both called into question. To preserve their tenuous alliance and secure her rule, Daenerys puts aside her personal feelings to arrange a marriage of political convenience between Jon and Sansa Stark.

Heather Says: What do you mean season 8 didn’t exist and the show totally ended with a three way relationship between the two most powerful women in Westeros and Jon Snow? Never been a big fan of Jon/Sansa before this, but this is another of those writers that I would literally trust if they wrote a fic about a fork and a spoon.

13. never tell me the odds by @wildehacked | Wolf 359 | Eiffel/Hera | 9k

“I tried Star Wars," he says, adjusting the phone under his neck, "and it was way underwhelming.”

A shaky breath from her end. “Well, where did you start?”

Heather Says: I don’t remember which of @wildehacked‘s fandoms I started reading first. Most recently it’s been The Magnus Archives (more on this later). The point is, they’d written Wolf 359 fic and it had Hera and Eiffel and it was literally everything that I’ve been looking for since the series ended.

14. Find Me Somebody by raiining | Good Omens | Warlock/Adam Young | 11k

“You left me,” he said. “You both left me, for him. And I can’t even blame you, because I’d have left me for him too.”

Heather Says: There was an Art. The art was lovely. So I went looking, because that’s what I do when faced with beautiful art depicting a rare pairing. And I found the holy grail. Like, possibly my favorite Good Omens fic? Ever?

15. flirting with fire by @brawlite | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | WIP | 7k

Steve's a cop, Billy's a firefighter. It's not a grudge, it's just a regular old small town rivalry.

Heather Says: Okay so brawlite has written a lot of great stuff this year (more on that later), but I read this in bed at the beach house this August while I was reeling from both a horrible sunburn and like seven hours of mild to moderate day-drinking while everyone else was still throwing back shots right outside my bedroom door. Jaws was playing on the tv and I wasn’t even paying attention to it, because THIS. Long story short, I’ve been thirsty for more ever since.

16. gold, when you find me by mmtion | The Flash | Iris/Barry | 53k

It's not that Iris hates The Flash, per say - more that she hates writing about The Streak in a weekly, pun-heavy comic based on The Flash.

Heather Says: I never would have thought that a canon pairing would make it to my Top 25 list, but here we are. I like Iris/Barry a lot better when they don’t grow up together and spend a lot of time playing the Superman game, apparently. Also, this was really well-written, and sexual tension has never been something I’ve felt from Barry and Iris, but I felt it in this fic. Just. Damn.

17. never gets old by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger| Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 78k

Falling in love with a cam boy named KingSteve isn't the smartest thing Billy Hargrove has ever done, nor is it the most healthy -- but the good choice is rarely ever the fun choice, and Billy is all about living life fast and loose.

Heather Says: Told you I’d come back to it. brawlite and toastranger are a fantastic team. last year was cherry pie and under the covers, this year it’s camboys and cop/firefighter dynamics. Also, I have a really strange fascination with fics where a character has an instragram. It’s really, incredibly strange. Also also, every time I see this fic title I get that one Discovery Channel song stuck in my head. And no, it probably isn’t the one you’re thinking.

18. ways to save the world by @wildehacked | The Magnus Archives | Martin Blackwood/Jon Sims | 19k

“I left you,” Martin says softly.

Heather Says: And we’re back at wildehacked too! The Magnus Archives was a thing that happened to me. This is I think the first fic I read for it while listening, and it was so very close to what we got in canon. I think when it comes down to it though, I still prefer this fic, even if the ending of this season was pretty fantastic.

19. The Denial Twist by beethechange | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 35k

“This is kind of surreal,” Shane says, taking a sip of his tea. It’s piping hot and delicious, except it tastes like hot chocolate and not like tea at all. “Sort of—Wonka-esque, right? Or Alice in Wonderland.”

Heather Says: While the vampire one is my favorite both because it is excellent and because it was my first, this one was bizarre and sexy and also I read it like only a month or so ago! The dancing was my favorite part, but having dreams to work with made this story fantastically interesting and I loved every second of it.

20. silver in our lungs by taywen | Spinning Silver | Miryem/The Staryk Lord | 4k

The marks had been with Miryem for as long as she could remember. There were a number of them, all the same shade, following one after the other around her left wrist. They were pale as old scars, though they felt no different from the rest of her skin, and her mother claimed that Miryem had been born with them.

Heather Says: I really like soulmate aus. There’s so many different ways to twist them and the way they can sometimes change the dynamic entirely and other times not change them at all is just fascinating. I’ve been hoping there would be more Spinning Silver content on ao3 and running into this while I was trying to decide what I wanted to do for yuletide was a real treat.

21. you got me begging, begging, i'm on my knees by plalligator | The Queen’s Thief | Attolia/Eugenides/Costis | 5k

Costis has a particularly enlightening evening. (or, that struggle when you're a guard who's in love with your rulers and it turns out you would kind of like it if they bossed you around a little)

Heather Says: I accidentally re-read the King of Attolia and it made me consider ships I had perhaps not previously considered. This was really lovely and just steamy enough.

22. something more alive than silence by pageleaf | The Queen’s Thief | Attolia/Eugenides/Costis | 21k

It was a good thing that six months after the king had promised to halve the guard, he still hadn’t done it, because since then, there had been two attempts on the king’s life.

Heather Says: I want to only type the words AGONIZED NOISES to describe this fic because that’s basically my headspace when I get 21k of a shiny new ot3, but I mean. Really. This is super good and maybe my favorite yet? Why didn’t I start reading this fandom when I first read the books?

23. Timing it Right by DragonBandit | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 14k

The dragon chooses, Mark knows that as well as any boy born in a weyr. He'd never considered what that would mean if the dragon picked someone you hated. He's starting to think that was a mistake.

Damien's gold rises at Whitney. Mark tries to make things right.

Heather Says: This should actually be somewhere back in March, but I apparently closed out of the tab at some point. I never really got into Pern much. I have the first three books, but got most of the way through the first one a long time ago and then never picked it back up. I didn’t think I would like this, mostly because of the fact that I hadn’t gotten into the books, but was surprised to find that I absolutely loved it.

24. Keep It In Your Sights Now by LuckyDiceKirby | Shades of Magic | Lila/Kell/Holland | 9k

Holland travels with Lila and Kell. Somewhere along the way, they reach an equilibrium.

Heather Says: I love the new things I’ve discovered during my yuletide trompings. I don’t think I ever actually considered this pairing when I first read the books, but I am just so enamored with the idea of the three of them together. Like, why did I not realize that potential back then? This was lovely, and I loved it, and I want so much more out of this pairing than what ao3 has to offer me.

25. Charioteer by petrichoral | The Queen’s Thief | Gen & Costis | 13k

Captured in battle and stuck in the Mede capital, Costis has given up all hope of seeing his country again. But Eugenides has a habit of turning up where he's least expected.

Heather Says: Technically this shouldn’t be on here because I only read it today, but it was really wonderful and so canon typical. Gen and Costis were perfect in it, Irene was perfect in it. Everyone was perfect and nothing hurts.

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retainermcga · 2 years ago

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Submit to Sasha - Text about the song Bulls on Parade by Rage Against The Machine

October 16, 2022

Greetings from Alexander. About submitting to Sasha.

In the annals of time there has never been a better chance to reference Pirates of The Caribbean famous exchange with Elizabeth Swan and servant "But the Commodore proposed - Fancy that - Now that's a smart match, miss, if it's not too bold to say." And what decision did Princess Swan select from her royal courtship and Pirate Kidnapping drama of the day: To take her Bulls on Parade. ... To whit

I am a world class inventor developing my King of Earth application and my plan is to be a Pirate and take my bulls on parade. I would be writing something else right now if it were not my fervent belief that at this time Sasha is interested in me drafting and posting. It is a complex journey to understand who I am and even though these women all know each other and know of me; they have continued their war against my strength and their own honesty about our status as a Royal Family. I have ceased to blame them for this dilemma as I am certain at times they were locked in rooms and cages to train them to plan to defeat me, their own husband king master spy inventor so that their California Masters could continue to steal and abuse them and me. I would rather spend my time admitting that I submit to Sasha than debating my own authority in her life as all that matters in life to me is what can I actually accomplish under the sun as I take my Bulls On Parade.

RALLY AROUND THE FAMILY WITH A POCKET FULL OF SHELL GAMES. Bulls on Parade!

When I have the support of Sasha Grey as part of my life; I will have what I need to win. And when I am ready Wherever We May Rome in Italy Whatever it Takes in Venice we leave them in an Uproar creating Heaven on earth with our Homemade Sideways Passione for water and human health. To name a few more songs, oh yeah Sauce that three minute three month hit was written for us. You must acknowledge that I am submitting to Sasha by providing her patient instructions as a Dominatrix for her to be a powerful woman beyond the entertainment industry, as a Royal pirate leader for a Black Market industrial water production Outfit in Venice Italy, following an extensive cleaning and renovating cycle. That is the first parade for Alexander's bully wives. CARNIVAL!

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conspiracies-and-crime · 7 years ago

Text

The Jack the Ripper case

Information about the case: The Jack the Ripper murders were a series of murders that took place in London, England. Jack the Ripper went after women, specifically prostitutes. It has been over 100 years and this case is still unsolved, no one knows who this “Jack the Ripper” as though there are suspects and ideas on who it could have been. There is also a speculation on how many women were killed. Some think that it was only five murders others believe it was eleven. It is said that he was a madman without a clear motive for the murders.

Notes:

All the victims were prostitutes

Women rather than men.

Most women in the white chapel district had to turn to prostitution for survival.

Women rather than men.

Most women in the white chapel district had to turn to prostitution for survival.

Took place between 1888 & 1891

It’s been > 100 years since this case took place.

100’s of suspects.

The white chapel district is were most-all murders took place

Is known for violence and crime.

Said to not have a clear motive

Most say that he only claimed the lives of five women.

Known as the “canonical five”

Some think he claimed the lives of eleven women.

The murders were in the newspaper and the public eventually became fascinated with them.

The public became so upset that the police commissioner + the home secretary resigned from the case.

Eight possible suspects.

August 31, 1888, at 3:40 AM was when the first victim was found.

The first victim was Mary Ann Nichols’

Found by a man named, Charles Cross.

Claims he was walking along buck’s row when he noticed a bundle near the western end.

Another man, Robert Paul approached the body with Cross.

Mary Ann Nichols’ was found on her on her back with her thought slit violently and she was disembowelled.

Only dead for a half hour.

The killer could have been nearby when Paul and Cross found her.

September 8, 1888, Annie Chapman was found in 29 Hanbury street.

Chapman was discovered by John Davis, an elderly man from the building on the street.

Chapman's throat was also slit but this time her womb was taken.

Dr, George Baxter Phillips served as the divisional police surgeon at the time had thought to have knowledge by how Annie Chapman's womb had been removed.

The killer was either a doctor or had basic anatomical knowledge.

On September 27 i888 the central news agency got a letter from the alleged killer basically saying that he had been hearing that the police had caught him but he wouldn’t stop the murders but instead he would send an ear to the police as a joke. He says that he laughs when they say they are on the right track and he won’t stop until he’s caught or dead. He brags about his last murder and how he gathered some of the blood in a ginger ale bottle to write with but it thickened up too quickly for him to write with. He jokes about them thinking that he’s a doctor.

The letter wasn’t released to the public until October 1st.

People thought the letter was faked by the journalist.

On September 30th 1888 at 1:00 AM the body of Elizabeth Stride was found on Berner street by Louis Diemschutz.

This time only her throat was slit making the police to believe that Jack the Ripper was interrupted when Diemschutz approached.

This was the second victim

People question whether this was actually the doing of Jack the Ripper as her throat was cut quite hastily & didn’t have any of the other things that had happened previously.

When she was examined at 1:15 AM it was determined that by that time she had been dead for 30 minutes.

Only 45 minutes after the discovery of Stride the body of Catherine Eddowes was found Mitre Square.

This was just west of the Strider murder.

Her body was very mutilated including her face. Her uterus was removed along with her left kidney.

The body was 10-15 mins away while walking.

After Eddowes was killed he made his way back to the first murder.

East from the body of Eddowes (?) was the only solid clues for investigators and police in the case.

The clue was a piece of Catherine Eddowes apron.

Found by Alfred Long in the doorway of an apartment block nearby Goulston street.

This was east of the Eddowes murder site.

Nearby written in chalk was a message that read “The Juwes are the men that will not be blamed for nothing.”

This was a sign of the anti-Semitism that was in this specific area.

The big thing about this clue was that it was found east of the murder site.

This was in the direction of Elizabeth Stride's murder site.

The murder that was committed 45 mins prior to this.

This meaning that the killer entered an area that, at the time, was swarming with cops.

Despite this showing that the killer could easily escape places that he could have been living in the east London area.

A postcard was received by the police on October 1st and was written by someone who had been claiming to be the Murderer.

It was written in similar handwriting.

This time talking about how he wasn’t kidding and how he couldn’t finish and how there would be a double even in the paper.

No one in the public knew about this so this lead police to believe that it was the killer as he described it in detail.

On October 13, 1888, police spent a week searching people's houses in East Densworth but found nothing

October 16 a man named George Lusk had received a letter.

He was the head of the Mile End Vigilance Committee.

This was a group to help assist the police.

The letter was signed. “From Hell”

Was delivered in a box w/ half a kidney.

The kidney was believed to be Catherine Eddowes’ kidney.

This was later to be found to be a prank by a medical student meaning that some people didn’t take this seriously and it was something they would joke around with.

(~~A month later) On Nov. 9, 1888, the body of the 5th & final victim Mary Kelly was found in her bed at 13 Millers Court.

She was found by her landlords assistant who was seeking rent.

This was the most gruesome murder.

Kelly’s body was disembowelled & “virtually skinned down”

“The sight that we saw I cannot drive from my mind it looked more like a work of a devil than a man” This is what the landlord said about the state of the body.

Some people claimed that they had seen the killer.

All murders were committed on a weekend.

Killers appearance.

In between 25-35

Roughly 5`5-5`7

Stocky, fair complexion, moustache.

Seen wearing a dark overcoat & dark hat.

Looked perfectly sane, frightfully normal.

Yet capable of extreme violence and cruelty.

. . .

Sir Melville Macnaghten, the Scotland yards head of criminal investigation department in 1903, though he had a vague idea on who the killer was.

Knew that Jack the Ripper had a basic knowledge of anatomy.

Possibly a doctor.

His notes say that he had narrowed his list of suspects down to three names.

Suspects of Jack the Ripper.

Suspect #1: Montague Johnson Druitt

A barrister who may have had an uncle + a cousin that were doctors.

~ His time of death he could have been around the age of 40.

Supposedly had an interest in surgery.

Might have lived with a cousin.

Who was practising medicine close to where the murders occurred.

It also appeared that ~ a month before the first canonical murder happened his (Montague) mother went insane.

Wrote down that he too thought he was going insane.

(though most people going or that are insane don’t know they are/going insane)

In Macnaghten’s notes, it says. “From private information, I have little doubt that his own family suspected this man of being the Whitechapel murderer; it was alleged that he was sexually insane”

After the last murder, Montague disappeared

4 weeks after the last murder he was found dead.

The body was found floating in the Thames river on December 3rd 1888

Suspect #2: Michael Ostrog

Russian doctor & criminal

Been in an asylum previously for homicidal tendencies.

Macnaughten wrote in his notes that he couldn’t find a strong alibi for his whereabouts during the murders.

Wasn’t evicted because there wasn’t enough evidence linked.

Suspect #3: Aaron Kosminski

A polish & Jewish resident in Whitechapel.

Spent time in an asylum in 1889

Resided in asylums until his death in 1919

Known for his hatred toward women

Specifically prostitutes.

His description matched with the killers

Name recently was in headlines

Featured in the book, “Naming Jack the Ripper”

Russell Edwards (the author) talked about how a shawl was bought at an auction and contained his DNA proving that he was the killer.

Bought under the impression that it was found at the murder scene of Catherine Eddowes.

Edwards got help from a molecular biologist Jari Louhelainen from Liverpool John Moores University.

Seman on the shawl was linked to Kosminski.

With this discovery, people thought that the case was closed

“I’ve got the only piece of forensic evidence in the whole history of the case. I’ve spent 14 years working on it, and we have definitely solved the mystery of who Jack the Ripper was. Only non-believers that want to perpetuate the myth will doubt. This is it now -- We have unmasked him.” - Russell Edwards.

Louhelainen may have made a large mistake.

Dr. Louhelainen identified a mutated piece of DNA on both the scarf and in Eddowes relative Karen Miller.

Mutation believed to be 314.1C

Only found in 1 - 290.000

The match was incorrect it wasn’t 314.1C instead was 315.1C.

Mutation shared with > 99% of people of European descent.

Kosminskies DNA was linked using Mitochondrial DNA using a subtype that wasn’t unique.

Suspect #4: Jill the Ripper

The theory that Jack the Ripper was actually a female

~~ a hunch of inspector Abberline

When everyone was looking for a man instead of a woman would explain why the killer could slip by unnoticed.

A midwife could also have anatomical Knowledge.

Blood on her clothing wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow.

Though all eyewitness accounts pointed to a man.

Suspect #5: Prince Albert Victor Christian Edward (The royal conspiracy.)

Often scoffed at.

Prince Edward was frequent to places that the victims were found.

An activity that led him to contract syphilis which drove him to insanity

Caused him to have a child with a local woman which led the queen to demand that everyone who knows of the child to be “Taken care of.”

Some believe that the insanity spawned by syphilis drove him to commit the murders himself.

Conspiracy theorists believe that he was never discovered because royal aids assisted in covering his identity.

This theory is often called ludacris as there isn’t any evidence to back it up.

Suspect #6: Walter Sickert

Patricia Cornwell (Known for her crime novels and devoted her time to find out who the killer was) claims that Sickert was obsessed with Jack the Ripper.

This is proven true

Referenced Jack the Ripper in some of his paintings.titling one of them “Jack the Ripper's Bedroom”

Cornwell claims that one painting mirrors the body position of the fifth victim Mary Kelly.

Claims that another painting mimics the facial wounds of fourth victim Catherine Eddowes

Reports of Sickert ‘Cosplaying’ as Jack the Ripper for fun.

Cornwell debunks that Sickert was in France at the time of the murders.

Saying that he has sketches of music halls in London at the time of three killings at least.

Analysis of forensic paper expert Peter Bower who identified three of Sickert's letters and two of Jack the Ripper's letters from a handmade paper run with only 24 sheets of that paper.

The possibility of both Sickert and Jack the Ripper writing on the same paper that only has 24 sheets in existence is very unlikely.

While that is undoubtedly evidenced all of the Jack the Ripper letters are unconfirmed.

Suspect #7: Joseph Barnett

Suspicious because he actually lived with Mary Kelly.

May have lived in 10 different locations in East London.

So he knows the area well so he can navigate back streets.

Worked as a fish porter

Reported was in love with Kelly.

According to the Daily Telegraph Barnett referred to Kelly as his “wife”

She was only a roommate.

Disagreed with her life as a prostitute striving to make money to keep her off of the streets.

Saying. “Marie never went out on the streets with me”

Theorised that Barnett committed the first murders to keep her off of the street.

Which for a little bit worked.

When he lost his job Kelly went back to the streets.

Financial struggles lead to fights.

Barnett disliked her love of Gin.

When Kelly brought back two different prostitutes it stirred one final fight which Barnett found unacceptable.

The fight got violent

A window was broken.

Not too long after Barnett moved out of the house.

10 days later Mary Kelly was found dead.

He was questioned for 4 hrs but was set free.

Having lived there he would know knowledge about the house of which included how to unlock the door from the outside.

Also knew Kelly's schedule and tendencies.

Details say that she was killed in her sleep rather than by someone she invited in.

Clothes were folded by the bed “As though they were taken off in an ordinary manner.”

Was wearing a nightgown.

As a fish porter, he would have anatomical knowledge.

Because he knew Kelly other prostitutes would know him allowing him to get close enough for a “sneak attack”

One newspaper at the time stated that some of his friends called him Jack.

Matches both physical and mental descriptions of Jack the Ripper that were created by police & the FBI.

The murders stopped after Mary Kelly.

With his lover , that he was trying to keep off of the streets, now dead he had no reason to keep on killing people.

Suspect #8/Last suspect: James Maybrick

His death matched with the stop of the killings.

Died a year after the killings.

Upper-class cotton merchant

Resided in an estate called the “Battlecrease House” in Liverpool.

Some think that this is a large detail as they think that he wasn’t an upperman & was instead a local.

A wealthy cotton merchant would be able to travel on weekends.

Wouldn’t be killing in his own Locale (Local area)

A diary was found under the floorboards of Maybricks estate.

His diary is signed. “I give my name that all know of me, so history does tell, what love can do to a gentleman born. Yours Truly,

Jack the Ripper.”

The diary held intimate details of the killings.

Scientific tests prove that the diary matched the time of the Jack the Ripper killings.

The diary was discovered by a scrap metal dealer named Mike Barett.

Admitted to the diary being fabricated but then later took that back.

The details of how he got the diary are shaky.

Some say it fell into his hands from being handed down in his family others say Barrett discovering it himself or his associates discovering it and then bringing it to him.

If the diary truly was found under the floorboards of the estate than there is a very strong possibility that Maybrick is Jack the Ripper.

Following the diary, a golden pocket watch was found as potential evidence.

The pocket watch apparently has the initials of each of the five canonical victims scratched into it.

Including the phrases “I am Jack” & “J. Maybrick.

The scratches were analysed from an electron microscope and Dr. Stephen Turgoose who said that the scratches were not done in modern times.

Another Dr. named Robert Wild, in Bristol’s Universities Interface Analysis Center, suggests the scratches “could have been very, very old and were certainly not new but it was difficult to be precise”

The watch, which was displayed and discovered in a Liverpool Jewelry Shop by a college caretaker named Elbert Johnson.

Dated in 1846

Purchased for 225 Pounds. ( 294.88 US dollars.)

My Thoughts.

My thoughts on the Jack the Ripper case. Well, I personally have a fascination with unsolved mysteries, especially unsolved murder cases. This one in particular really caught my attention just in how the victims were chosen and how it has been so long and we have so many suspects but only a couple of them would actually make sense and possibly could be Jack the Ripper but there are places where the theory and reasons to suspect to the person kind of fall out or it would lead to at least a couple of loose ends or it starts to not support it as much as it could and some of the evidence isn’t the best so you can get confused about the true killer. As for the case itself, it is a sad thing that had happened but I honestly can see how it could stay a mystery for so long. With that many suspects and different evidence showing up and being debunked so often and random throughout the years. Like the instance where the shawl was bought at an auction and the molecular biologist got the wrong mutation and said that it was a rare one before finding out that he had said that it was the wrong one and it was actually a mutation that every descendant of a European has the mutation. Things like that can keep it a mystery although I think that we will probably solve it eventually seeing that we have a couple that might actually have been Jack the Killer.

This case is actually the case that really got me into crime and unsolved mysteries I find it fascinating about how we could solve it years and years after the crime had happened and ended. I honestly love the idea of studying cases whether they’re ongoing or if they have already ended and haven’t been solved. Even cases that have been solved are just fun to write my thoughts down or talk about my thoughts and theories about it.

My theories and who I think did it.

Okay, I have three different theories that I think committed all of the Jack the Ripper murders. I’m going to go from the one that I don’t think is very likely and I have very little evidence for to the one that has the most and that is more likely. Now let’s begin.

The Jill the Ripper Theory: Okay I think this one could be likely because at the time that the killings were going on (1888) women weren’t allowed to have a title of a doctor or anything of the sort. So when the first or second letter for Jack the Ripper was sent (now thinking back to it I do believe that it was the first letter sent in.) it says that they were shocked that people were actually thinking that they were a doctor. This leads me to believe that it really could have been a women at the time. Plus in 1888 it would be normal that a midwife would have blood on her clothes so she could have passed it off that she was just a midwife so she could slip in and out of crowds easily which could explain why the killer wasn’t found or spotted on the night of the double murder. It could have also thrown off the police because they were told to be looking for a man but instead they should be looking for a woman. Although there is something that is holding that piece of evidence back that it that the killer had been described by eyewitness accounts and at that time you could easily tell the difference between a man and a women as they had very different figures due to the corsets that they (women) would always wear. Being a midwife would also give her anatomical knowledge that Jack the Ripper obviously had otherwise how else would (s)he be able to disembowel his (her) victims and take out their womb the way they did.

Joseph Barnett: This one definitely has more of a chance than the Jill the Ripper theory does. Barnett actually lived with the fifth and last victim Mary Kelly. He had actually told the Daily Telegraph that she was his “wife” when in reality she was actually just a roommate that he lived with so people naturally started to say that Barnett had loved Kelly and because he disagreed with her being a prostitute people believe that he committed the first murders to scare her off of the street which actually worked for a bit. He said that “When Marie was with me she never went onto the streets.” This was because she didn’t need to because he was working as a fish porter. He was thought to be able to get around so easily because he may have lived in 10 different places in East London so, he could get around quickly because he knew his way around. Because he didn’t like that Kelly was a prostitute they often got into arguments they would also fight because he didn’t like her love of Gin. But when Joseph lost his job as fish porter Kelly went back onto the streets and continued with the prostitution. When Kelly brought two other prostitutes home Barnett didn’t think that this was acceptable so they got into a pretty big argument at this point it had gotten quite violent a window was apparently broken in the fight. After the fight, Barnett ended up leaving the house. 10 days later Kelly was found dead in her apartment. Because he lived there he would know how to unlock the door from the outside and around the house. Kelly’s clothes were also folded like they had been taken off and placed in an ordinary manner and she was in a nightgown so she was killed in her sleep because it didn’t look like she had any form of struggling like she had been killed from someone she had let inside. Right after Kelly was killed the killings had stopped as it is known. This ties in because why would he kill anyone else when the women that he loved was now dead and he had no reason to still be killing.

James Maybrick: James Maybrick is the person that is most likely to have done it. Maybrick was an upper-class cotton merchant so he only really had weekends to go out and do other stuff plus all of the murders took place on weekends which could potentially point directly toward Maybrick. Plus he was living somewhere else so it wasn’t so obvious it was him at first because he lived in a different location than the murders were happening it was kind of shrugged off because you know who would want to go somewhere else to commit a crime such as murder. He also resided with an estate called the “Battlecrease House” that was located in Liverpool. Under one of the floorboards, there was a diary found that had vivid and intimate details about each one of the murders of each one of the victims. The diary was signed with this: “I give my name that all know of me, so history do tell, what love can do to a gentleman born. Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper.”. There was a gold pocket watch that was found by a college caretaker by the name of Elbert Johnson had found it in a jewellery shop in Liverpool. He took it to a Dr. who said that the scratches in the watch weren’t from modern times the scratches read the initials of all of the victims and two phrases “I am Jack” and “J. Maybrick.”

#jack the ripper #Unsolved crimes

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qqueenofhades · 7 years ago

Note

March is Women's History Month and I got myself thinkin' about how grateful I am for the gal pals in my life (of which you are most definitely one!), and I was wondering - what are some of your favorite historical female friendships and why?

Happy Women’s History Month indeed. Let’s get some ladies up in this joint and do some learning.

Below, in (approximately) chronological order:

1. MurasakiShikubu and Empress Shoshi (10th/11th century)

Murasaki Shikibu was a lady-in-waiting to the Japanese empress Shoshi in the late 10th/early 11th century, and is credited as the author of the first novel, The Tale of Genji. She also kept the Diary of Lady Murasaki, which records details of court life and her relationship with the empress, who was her patron and supported her literary pursuits. Allegedly, Shoshi asked Murasaki to write some more stories when she needed something new to read, and they eventually retired together to the country once Shoshi’s son became emperor. Shoshi herself was a shrewd political operator who carefully managed her family and dynasty’s fortunes, became a Buddhist nun, and died at the age of 86.

2. Christinede Pizan and Anastasia (14th/15th century)

Christine de Pizan was an Italian-French author in the late fourteenth/early fifteenth century, who wrote what are often characterized as many early feminist texts and literary critiques. She wrote blazing responses to popular romances written by men (which were often horrendously misogynist) and was in demand as an author; her texts were commissioned by royalty and kept on elite library shelves. She also sought out other women to collaborate with, including Anastasia, who we know only by her first name. Christine praised her as the finest manuscript illuminator and illustrator in Paris, whose work was hotly in demand, and who had worked on several projects for Christine herself.

3. The Rain Queens of the Lovedu (16th century-present)

This is technically about mothers and daughters, but shh, it counts. The South African tribe of the Lovedu has been ruled for centuries by a “rain queen,” whose wisdom passed from mother to daughter, and who was presented with wives by surrounding chiefs in recognition of her magical powers. If it doesn’t rain, the queen doesn’t get blamed, her (male) rain doctors get blamed instead, and any children of her “brides” are regarded as hers. It created a mystical, matriarchical tradition in the tribe throughout generations, though in the 21st century it has run into modern political difficulties.

4. Queen Elizabeth I and Grace O’Malley (16th century)

Queen Elizabeth I needs no introduction, but Grace O’Malley was an Irish pirate queen who ruled around the Connaught area of Ireland in the late 16th century. When she and her sons ran afoul of English justice, she applied to Queen Elizabeth directly for an audience, which eventually happened at Greenwich in 1593. Elizabeth spoke no Irish and Grace spoke no English, so the two women spoke Latin to each other. Grace must have also made quite an impression on her fellow queen, as Elizabeth released her sons and granted her a pardon, as long as she didn’t return to her reaving ways.

5. Julie d’Aubigny and Fanchon Moreau (17th century)

Julie d’Aubigny, or “La Maupin” had an almost ridiculously eventful life. A cross-dressing, bisexual, sword-fighting opera singer, she famously burned down a convent to run away with her nun lover, kissed a girl at a society party and beat all three of the noblemen who challenged her to duels as a result, and had a noted career in French theater. Fanchon Moreau was one of the actresses that Julie fell in love with, allegedly trying to commit suicide when Fanchon took up with another lover. She later died at the age of only 33.

6. Christina,Queen of Sweden and her many female friends (17th century)

To speak of impossibly colorful and interesting 17th century women: Christina, Queen of Sweden was also a cross-dressing expert swordswoman, rider, and hunter who spoke ten languages, ruled as queen of Sweden for twenty-two years, then resigned the throne and went to Rome, was ferociously brilliant and educated, and has been sometimes regarded as possibly intersex or trans, though she denied that she was a “Male or Hermaphrodite,” as she had often been accused of. She was also either bisexual or a lesbian, who had many relationships and friendships with women, including possibly with Gabrielle de Rochechouart de Montemart, a dazzling beauty and wit who was the older sister of Louis XIV’s famous mistress, Madame de Montespan. (Gabrielle’s BFF was also the openly gay Philippe, duc d’Anjou, Louis XIV’s younger brother.)

7. Queen Anne and Sarah Churchill (18th century)

Queen Anne was known for her passionate and long-running friendships with women, as I wrote about in the post above, and Sarah Churchill, the Duchess of Marlborough, was the longest-lasting and most influential of these. Anne was in love with her, while Sarah was more pragmatic about her relationship with the princess and then queen, and used her considerable intellect and political opinions in the early years of Anne’s rule. Their relationship broke down in 1708, at the death of Anne’s beloved husband George, and Sarah’s unflattering portrayal of Anne would hold sway for many years after.

8. Anne Bonny and Mary Read (18th century)

If you’ve watched Black Sails, you know about these two, but their real-life counterparts were probably even more colorful. They were swashbuckling female pirates who drank, fought, swore, and fucked as hardcore as their male counterparts, and who fought to the end when their ship got captured, while Calico Jack Rackham hid below deck. (Sorry, Jack, but Black Sails was definitely nice to you.) And yes, the real Anne and Mary were probably in a relationship, though we don’t know for sure.

9. ElizabethFreeman and Catharine Sedgwick (18th/19th century)

Elizabeth Freeman, or “Mum Bett,” was a slave who sued the state of Massachusetts for her freedom – and won – in 1780, and after telling her former master to get fucked, took a paying job with the Sedgwick family. She raised Catharine as a child, and Catharine later wrote her life story, the reason we know about her. Catharine grew up to be a successful novelist whose heroines often rebelled against the strictures of 19th-century American society, and she and Elizabeth are now buried side by side in the Sedgwick family plot. (Does anyone else suddenly have something in their eye? Just me?)

10. Ada Lovelace and Mary Somerville (19th century)

Ada Lovelace, nee Byron, was the only legitimate daughter of the infamous Lord Byron, a brilliant mathematician, and the founding mother of computer science, along with her friend and colleague, the great Victorian inventor and eccentric Charles Babbage. However, she was tutored in her young adulthood by the equally brilliant Mary Somerville, a prolific scientist and author of mathematical and astronomical papers and textbooks, and they were close friends; if Ada had a pressing mathematical problem, she would stop by Mary’s for a cup of tea and a brainstorming session. Somerville College in Oxford is now named in Mary’s honor, after she died at the age of ninety-two.

11. Victoria Woodhull and Tennessee Claflin (19th century)

They were sisters, but shh, again, it counts. Victoria Woodhull was the first woman to run for president of the United States (in 1872, with Frederick Douglass as her running mate) and she and Tennessee were journalists, stockbrokers, and advocates of free love who fought with Party Pooper Extraordinaire and self-appointed guardian of 19th-century American virtue Anthony Comstock, as is written about in the Historical Hour With Hilary entry above. They lived in New York together and ran Woodhull and Claflin’s Weekly, a newspaper, and gave blazing speeches for female suffrage and equality.

12. Lyudmila Pavlichenko and Eleanor Roosevelt (20th century)

Ukrainian-born Lyudmila Pavlichenko was the best female sniper of all time, serving in the Red Army during WWII and recording a total of 309 confirmed kills. That was a lot of Nazis, and she was very proud of killing them. She was one of the rare Soviet citizens invited to America for a victory tour, where the American press fixated on idiotic questions about whether she wore makeup while fighting and that her uniform made her look fat (no, really). However, Lyudmila also met First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt, and they struck up an unlikely friendship. Eleanor helped Lyudmila tell the sexist asses where to stick it, and they ended up remaining friends for the rest of their lives, including a meeting 15 years later, in 1957, when Lyudmila was living in quiet obscurity in Moscow.

#history #women in history #queer history #women's history month #prairiepirate #ask

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klaineharmony · 8 years ago

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Klaine fic recs update

Hi everyone - I am still working on updating my Klaine fic rec pages. It’s a slow process! Trying to reconstruct links from four different sites (and figure out what’s made it over to AO3 and what hasn’t) is a lot of work. However, I’ve added some new things and found some new AO3 links, and so I wanted to give you all the list of what I have so far.

Warblers! Klaine fics

A Fine Frenzy and A Fine Frenzy: Outtakes by arainymonday. The New Directions and the Warblers experience new friendships, hookups, and breakups as they perform a musical rendition of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream at a Renaissance Faire. Posted on FF.net. Also here on LJ.

Dalton by CPCoulter. Post-“Furt,” Kurt begins an entirely new chapter in his life at Dalton Academy for Boys. Blaine, Wes, David and the boys of Windsor House make his life, for better or worse, far more eventful than he imagined. It’s hard to say enough about this beautifully imagined fic, which is now over 400,000 words and has its own fandom. CP Coulter also has her own extensive Tumblr with updates, Dalton fics by other authors, and lots of additional info, which can be found here. Dalton is also on FF.net, here.

Klaine, As Told by David and Wes by Ultraviolet-Ink. When David and Wes do something, they don’t do it by halves. So when David suggests they document ‘Klaine’ in all of its entirety, it’s not going to be some half-arsed job - they’re pulling out all the stops. This was one of the first Wevid fics I ever read, and I laughed until I cried. Hilarious. Posted on FF.net.

Lantern by Salazarfalcon. The power’s out, and all the Warblers have is a single, flickering light that may or may not be a literary metaphor for one Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. Posted on FF.net.

Canon Klaine: one-shots, fill-ins, slight AUs.

Unless otherwise noted, links lead to AO3. If authors have multiple pseudonyms, they will be separated with a forward slash, e.g. aspiringtoeloquence/mybriefeternity.

A Hint of Blaine by OccasionallyRestless. The “Furt” wedding scene with a Blaine twist - When Blaine gets a call from the New Directions offering to let him help with a surprise for Kurt, he readily agrees. Cue singing, cute dancing and Klaine fluff. Posted on FF.net.

After Opening by Aeditimi Scriba. Artie notices an improvement in his leading actors as “West Side Story” goes into its second performance. Klaine and Finchel, Artie’s POV. Posted on FF.net.

And A Thousand Moments Like This by DaybyDay. Post-Original Song kiss fic. Fluff. Posted on FF.net.

Be It You Outside My Door by water_nix/the-water-nixie. 4x04 fix-it fic. Blaine’s instincts lead him to the right place at last. Posted on LJ.

Before You Met Me (I Was All Right) by purplehairedwonder. Without New Directions, Kurt never goes to Dalton to spy on the Warblers. For Blaine, life goes on… except for those strange moments he feels like something is missing. This is an AU inspired by that “Glee Actually” promo with Kurt asking Artie, “Who’s Blaine?” during the dream sequence.

Blame It On Insecurity by sunandrainfic/rainingaces. Blaine does not like blaming things on alcohol. A conversation between Kurt and Blaine during BIOTA. This is one of the most poignant and insightful BIOTA fics out there. Posted on FF.net.

Blaine Anderson is Missing by lovely-sparkle. AU spec fic for Season 4 Regionals. The break-up is included. What will New Directions do when Blaine goes missing on the morning of the Regionals competition? And why is Blaine worried about Kurt? Posted on LJ.

Blessing by antarcticbird/Alianne82. Happy engaged boys and the world’s best dad. 5x01 reaction fic.

Blossoming by avaserenity. Post-“The First Time.” Burt Hummel’s perspective. He knows because he’s never seen anyone look at Kurt the way Blaine does. Posted on LJ.

Box by trufflemores. 3x09. “But what are you promising?” Blaine surprises Kurt with a special gift before Christmas break. Gap filler.

Call by trufflemores. 3x22. Blaine makes a special phone call after Kurt tells him about his NYADA rejection. Gap filler.

Can’t Explain (How the Wind Went and Pulled Me Into Your Hurricane) by ahmarionette. After the kiss in “Original Song,” Kurt gets Blaine to explain some of his swings in behavior since they met. Posted on LJ.

Captivate and Enrapture by trufflemores. 3x08 and 4x09. “Oh my God, it’s the Gerber baby.” In which Blaine sees Kurt lip-syncing during Harmony’s performance, and Kurt finally sings for NYADA.

Cheating by trufflemores. 3x17. “This is cheating, Kurt.” Blaine finds Kurt’s phone with Chandler’s texts. Drama ensues.

Convalescence by trufflemores. Quickie reaction fic to 4x07. Sometimes healing comes in unexpected ways. Blam friendship, with heavy Blaine angst.

Coping by trufflemores. 4x01. Kurt has been gone at college for months now. The New Directions’ newest member helps Blaine cope. Kurt/Blaine. Marley-Blaine friendship.

Counting Down the Days by skintightsocks. “It’s okay to be sad, you know,” Rachel says, petting at his hair. “You can pretend I’m Blaine if you want; I know we’re almost the same size.” It’s Kurt’s first birthday in NYC, and he’s missing Blaine. AnderHummelberry friendship. Posted on LJ.

Enough by flaming_muse. 4x02. Standing there silently as Rachel works, Kurt wonders if he should say anything to her. He’s just not sure there’s anything else to be said. Klaine, HummelBerry friendship.

Epiphany by trufflemores. 4x12. Sam thinks he’s worthless. Blaine shows him otherwise. Sam/Blaine friendship.

Everything Changes by wowbright. The more Kurt thinks about Rachel’s yearbook message, the more he doesn’t know what to make of it. Finn does, though. (Reaction fic to “Goodbye” and "Rachel’s Yearbook Message to Kurt Scene".)

Fearlessly and Forever by missbeizy. 5x01 reaction fic. They hold court on a leather sofa in the common room where Blaine and the Warblers had sung “Teenage Dream” to a wide-eyed and very unsubtle McKinley High spy.

Finish Line by klaineaddict/iconicklaine. 4x01. Burt’s perspective on sending Kurt to New York. Originally posted on LJ; posted to AO3 by my request, for the Glee AO3 Fest. :)

Firsts by tweeney. 4x11. Kurt goes on a date with Adam, but his mind refuses to cooperate and decides to take a trip down memory lane to his first date with Blaine. Adorable and sweet fix-it fic. Posted on LJ.

Five Times Blaine Wanted to Kiss Kurt But Didn’t (and One Time He Did) by tweeney. Some S2 Klaine, missing moments and kisses. Posted on LJ.

Goodnight Sweetheart (Well, It’s Time To Go) by antarcticbird/Alianne82. Kurt and Blaine say goodnight on their third date after becoming a couple. S2.

Happy Days Are Here Again by klemonademouth. It had been eighty-two days since Kurt had been in Ohio. Eighty-two days since he’d touched Blaine. Eighty-two days since he’d held him against his chest and pressed his face into Blaine’s hair, inhaling the scent of sandalwood and pine. Posted on FF.net. Also here on LJ.

Hurry Up Please, It’s Time by lookninjas. This is technically part of lookninjas’ stripper!AU ‘verse, but it is really a reworked version of The Box Scene, and it is fluffy and lovely.

Hurt by foraworldundeserving. A “Never Been Kissed” missing scene. Kurt finally looked up, his eyes glassy, and Blaine had to stifle a gasp at the absolute terror reflected in them. “He snapped,” Kurt whispered. Posted on FF.net.

I Don’t Have to Tell You, But You’re the Only One by aspiringtoeloquence/ mybriefeternity. Takes place during the events of “Rumors” - 2x19. With all that’s going on at McKinley, Kurt misses his boyfriend more than ever. Posted on FF.net.

If This Ain’t Love Then What Is? by aspiringtoeloquence/mybriefeternity. "I mean, what would you do if Blaine proposed to you today?“ Takes place during 3x12 - Kurt’s thoughts. Posted on FF.net.

If You Let It Go by trufflemores. 4x04. “It’s an expression,” Marley explained. “If you love something, you have to let it go. If it comes back, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it never was.” Blaine and Kurt’s phone calls post-break-up.

I Guess We Thought That’s Just What Humans Do by sunandrainfic/rainingaces. Missing scene from “I Do,” in which Tina and Blaine argue and work out their differences after the Vapor Rub incident. Posted on LJ.

I Love You More Than I Have Ever Found a Way to Say by lavender-love00. Kurt and Blaine after junior prom, S2. Adorable and sweet, awkward and romantic.

I’m Beginning to See the Light by normal_scaresme. It’s Kurt and Blaine’s two-year anniversary, and even if they aren’t technically together, Kurt still thinks they should celebrate. S4. Posted on LJ.

In Want of Magic by trufflemores. This story is how I found Truffles, and it is a truly amazing piece of writing. 3x01 - 4x01. “I just … I want my senior year to be magic.” Kurt knew that there would be challenges to overcome his senior year. Little did he know just how tumultuous it would be. Kurt/Blaine. Blaine as a senior. Minor canonical alterations, but otherwise canon compliant.

Initiation by WickedForGood13. The aftermath of Blaine’s first slushie facial.

I Thought You’d Keep Me Warm by water_nix/the-water-nixie. 4x04 fix-it fic featuring Sebastian. Sometimes the right push comes from the most unlikely of places. Posted on LJ.

It’s All Fiction by happyinchintz72. Follow on from 2x15 and their ‘non-conversation’. Kurt is frightened and doesn’t ever see how that will change… ONE-SHOT. Angsty fluff. Posted on FF.net. Also here on LJ.

It’s Not Unusual by gigi42. 4x21 reaction fic in Kurt’s POV. Kurt’s in survival mode, but the idea of Blaine is in everything he does.

It’s Time by trufflemores. 4x01. Blaine, after Kurt has left for New York.

It’s You They’re All Waiting For by missgoalie75. 4x02. Blaine tries to get used to the eccentricities of the new New Directions. Wonderful Blainetana and Brittaine friendship. Posted on LJ.

Journey’s End by the-cimmerians. 4x04 fix-it fic. After the break-up, Blaine flees Lima, and Kurt finds himself enlisted by the Andersons to help find their son. Kurt is as surprised as anyone that he agrees to go looking. Posted on Tumblr.

Kiss by foraworldundeserving. The now-famous, 234-chapter prompt fic that is equal parts fun, fluff, angst, and gorgeousness. While the kiss in “Original Song” was oh-so-beautiful, there’s millions of ways those two boys could have shared their first kiss. Posted on FF.net.

Kiss & Tell by impromptucoffee/engorgioblaine. Kurt and Blaine’s progression through the four bases. Originally a GKM fill. Awkward, sweet, gorgeous emotion and description. Posted on LJ.

Kiss Me Slowly by skitzzy. "He wasn’t even paying attention to the sky anymore; the only thing he wanted to see was the beautiful boy in front of him that no sunset in the world could ever compete against.” Posted on FF.net.

Last Night by Icicle Raindream. “The First Time” missing scene. Rachel and Blaine share a secret with one another backstage. Posted on FF.net.

Letting Go by trufflemores. 4x08. Kurt finally calls Blaine intending to end his relationship with him permanently. It doesn’t go as planned. Canon-compliant.

Locked Out of Heaven by trufflemores. 4x11. In which Blaine can’t have Kurt, and so he finds love wherever he can. One-sided Blaine/Sam, with mentions of Kurt/Blaine.

Memory by trufflemores. 4x10. “Who’s Blaine?” Kurt/Blaine. Sebastian/Blaine. A take off from “Glee, Actually,” in which we see what has become of the Blaine who never knew Kurt.

May Your Days Be Merry by manywingedescape/wingedescapes. 4x10, “Glee, Actually.” Kurt and Blaine have a discussion about love and life after Burt falls asleep on Christmas night. Posted on FF.net. Also here on LJ.

Need by trufflemores. 3x07. “I have to find Blaine.”

Never A Good War, Never a Bad Peace by foraworldundeserving. Finn and Blaine in S3. Nobody’s perfect. So under that logic, it was entirely unfair to watch certain people just float through life without so much as stumbling, and Finn wasn’t going to stand for it any longer. Posted on FF.net.

New Meanings by flaming_muse. 4x01. It’s with a little hesitation that Blaine pushes through the doors of the Lima Bean and breathes in the familiar scents of coffee and baked goods.

Oh, Whistle and Come to Us by purplehairedwonder. 4x08. Whistles had come to mean something both haunting and seductive to Blaine by the time the Warblers performed “Whistle” at Sectionals. This amazing story was written based on a meta post I wrote for fyeahgleemeta, and I am so flattered and awed by it.

One Fine Day and Catch the Wind by arainymonday. They had talked about their dads enough for Kurt to know three things: One, Mr. Anderson desperately wanted a straight son. Two, Blaine desperately wanted an accepting father. Three, Kurt had everything Blaine wanted. And they had talked about their families enough for Kurt to know three more things: One, the Andersons do not get along. Two, the Andersons are not happy. Three, Blaine does not feel loved by them. But Kurt had no idea it was this bad. Posted on FF. net. Also One Fine Day on LJ and Catch the Wind on LJ.

One More Night by trufflemores. 4x11. Once he starts thinking about Sam that way, he can’t stop. In which Blaine projects, Sam reflects, and lines dissolve. Explores Blam, but remains firmly Klaine. Kurt features fairly prominently. One-sided Sam/Blaine, Kurt/Blaine.

One Thing Kurt Got Right by abbypotter327. 3x22. Kurt takes his NYADA rejection hard, but he has Blaine to hold him together. Posted on FF.net.

Out of Control by trufflemores. 4x12. Sam’s on a downward spiral with the ‘Men of McKinley’ calendar. Blaine intervenes. Unbeknownst to him, he, too, is on a downward spiral that leads up to “Diva.” Blaine/Sam friendship.

Pamphlets by foraworldundeserving. 2x15, leading up to 3x05. Because as much as he wanted to, no matter how easy it was to stay naive and pretend that relationships never went beyond the touch of fingertips, Kurt had to face up to the facts and the truth. He couldn’t stay a baby penguin any longer. Posted on FF.net.

Perhaps by aspiringtoeloquence/mybriefeternity. 3x03. The aftermath of Blaine being cast as Tony in West Side Story - Blaine and Kurt aren’t exactly experts at this whole healthy relationship thing yet, but they try, and that’s half the battle. Posted on FF.net.

Pink Sticky Notes and Portable Hearts by hopewithfeathers. Post-“Dance With Somebody,” 3x17. Kurt and Blaine couldn’t talk out and fix all their sadness and insecurities in one conversation, so Kurt goes to apologize properly. Angst, fluff, and sexy times. Posted on FF.net.

Play It Cool, Boy, Real Cool by aspiringtoeloquence/mybriefeternity. Pre-3x06. McKinley is where Blaine’s heart is… but he’d feel better if he spent more time with some of the members of New Directions. Posted on FF.net.

Please Don’t Come and Go by sunandrainfic/rainingaces. 4x04 fix-it fic. He doesn’t say these things, because how can you say those things to the boy you cheated on? Anything that had happened before is meaningless, now. It’s been blotted off the paper by the huge ink-stain Blaine spilled on the canvas. Posted on LJ.

Precipice by trufflmores. 4x14. Marley supports Blaine during a time of need, and Blaine has a realization about his relationship with Kurt. Takes place after the car makeout and during the wedding reception. Marley/Blaine friendship, Kurt/Blaine romance. Truffles wrote this for me after I asked for something with lots of Anderose friendship, and it is positively lovely.

Promises by bluecloudsupabove/ca_te. 4x01. Blaine sends Kurt off to NYC with love.

Put Up the Tree Before My Spirit Falls Again by water_nix/the-water-nixie. 4x08-4x10. Kurt has secretly hated Christmas since he was eight years old, and now that he’s living away from home he can avoid it with nothing but a little excess guilt. So when he calls to say he isn’t coming home for Christmas this year, Burt decides it’s about time he did something about that. It’s a good thing he’s bringing along a right-hand man. Posted on LJ.

Ready or Not by unwrittenfic/drunkonwriting. Kurt and Blaine come to Santana’s aid in the aftermath of the Finn and Santana situation in “Mash-Off.”

Remind Me To Forget by peanutmeg. Blaine’s moved on from Sadie Hawkins. He’s fine. It was years ago. But it seems that the past isn’t done with Blaine. Canon-compliant through 5x07.

The Run on Fumes series by idoltina. Canon divergent post-season three. When Blaine transfers to McKinley for his senior year, he finds himself paired with Quinn for a duets assignment in glee club and discovers that maybe they have more in common than he'd originally thought. Or, Blaine and Quinn become best friends.

Seneca Falls, and Selma, and Stonewall by flaming_muse. January 21, 2013. Blaine watches the inauguration alone in his house, a bowl of microwave popcorn cooling on the coffee table and a glass of soda fizzing gently by his hand.

Shooting Star by trufflemores. 4x18. AU spec. Blaine’s bad morning spirals rapidly downward when a gunshot is fired. Here there be Blangst. No character death. TW: shooting. Features Blam friendship and Klaine romance.

Sometimes It Takes a Storm to Calm a Storm Within by thefatesallow/comewhatmay. Another beautiful 4x18 reaction fic, in which Kurt and Blaine talk after the shooting and are on the road to mending. Background Brittana as well.

Something New by the-cimmerians. Post-4x14. Kurt and Blaine reconnect and being again. Posted on Tumblr.

Support by trufflemores. 4x13. Slight AU. Sick!Blaine. "If Kurt is a unicorn, does that make you a rhinoceros?" It's a very long week for Blaine Anderson. Features Anderose and Blam friendship.

Swallow My Heart and Flee by fallovermelikestars. Blaine Anderson comes to New York thinking the world is his oyster, overjoyed at the prospect of taking a bite of the Big Apple, moving into an apartment he and Kurt can call home and finally living the Manhattanite life together they’ve always dreamed of. But then Kurt gets an offer that he’s not sure he can refuse, the plans they’ve made are turned on their head and Blaine finds out that having a dream and living it are two very different things. While the first three seasons of Glee are canon here, it goes AU after 4x01.

The Art of Fixing Hearts by bluecloudsupabove/ca_te. 4x04 fix-it fic by the incomparable Cate, immediately following the confrontation in Battery Park. Also here on S&C.

The Key Series, comprised of ‘The First Steps" and “The Next Steps” by Fabrisse. This is probably my absolute favorite 4x04 fix-it fic. Blaine comes back to New York the week after “The Break-Up,” and talking, domesticity, and forgiveness ensue.

The Five New Voicemails of Chandler Kiehl by aspiringtoeloquence/ mybriefeternity. 3x17. Chandler Kiehl’s phone number finds itself in the possession of the members of New Directions. Who have a lot of feelings. Set after “Dance With Somebody.”

The Perspective of Age by flaming_muse. 4x10, “Glee Actually.” If there’s one thing that Burt does know, besides how to take any car engine apart and put it back together running better than before, it’s his son. Gorgeous fic from Burt’s POV in which he muses about Kurt and Blaine, love, loss, and his relationship with his son.

The Plans That We’ve Made by aspiringtoeloquence/mybriefeternity. Kurt and Blaine are back in Ohio for the holidays, and it feels like the next few weeks could be important in so many ways. Posted on FF.net.

The Sparrow by wowbright. On March 8, 2013, at 3:42 p.m., the same calendar reminder pops up on both of their phone displays: “THERE YOU ARE - ANNIVERSARY in one week.” Kurt and Blaine do their best to cope with being broken up on their second anniversary. So poignant and sweet.

The Worst is Far Behind Us Now by normal_scaresme. Blaine calls Kurt after the events of 4x18. Lovely emotion and wonderful Anderson family moments at the end. Posted on LJ.

This House Doesn’t Burn Down Slowly by sunandrainfic/rainingaces. 4x01. It’s not the kind of “confronting what you’re afraid of” fear that got Neville Longbottom to win points for Gryffindor, or Diane Lane to dive into a lake and admit that she loves John Cusack. It’s the kind of paralyzing, one-wrong-move-and-the-snake-kills-you fear that boxes you in and turns out the lights and whispers in your ear, “Don’t make a sound.” Posted on LJ.

This Is It by impromptucoffee/engorgioblaine. AU for “Goodbye”; originally a GKM fill. Kurt gets into NYADA and Kurt and Blaine celebrate, all by themselves. Posted on LJ.

Till We Come Face to Face by the-multicorn/multicorn. They end up together at the Lima Bean, promises made over the phone at Thanksgiving long left behind. “I know the relationship between us is - complicated,” Kurt says. His hands are folded around the cardboard cup as if in prayer. “But I need to talk to my best friend. Can you do that?” Reunion fic, AU after 4x22. Also here on Tumblr.

To Love You Is To Need You Everywhere by undesirablenumber1/warble_on. 3x11. Blaine needs Kurt; a discovery reflected upon in Kurt’s arms. Blaine’s inner monologues on love and necessity and people who save you. Posted on FF.net. Also posted here on LJ.

Transference by flaming_muse. Kurt and Blaine’s relationship is complicated; other people (and objects) are much more simple. Transference is the phenomenon of unconsciously redirecting feelings about one person or object to another. Set before through soon after 4x17, “Guilty Pleasures.”

Two Years Ago Tomorrow by flaming_muse. The afternoon of the day after Kurt and Blaine’s first kiss. Set within 2x16 (“Original Song”) and written for the second anniversary of Kurt and Blaine’s first kiss. So lovely.

Unbroken by trufflemores. 2x17. "These three guys . . . beat the living crap out of us." Or, what happened that spring night at the Sadie Hawkins dance.

Waiting, Hoping by flaming_muse. 4x21. Blaine’s perspective during “Wonder-ful.” There he is, Blaine’s Kurt. Almost.

When the Lights Go Out, Will You Take Me With You? by narceus. AU spec fic for 3x02 and 3x03. Blaine moves to New York with Kurt, and it takes his parents months to notice he’s gone. Beautiful and heartbreaking.

When We Can Say Goodnight and Stay Together by antarcticbird/Alianne82. 3x12. Kurt and Blaine talk about Finn’s marriage proposal to Rachel while doing … other stuff. Absolutely sweet and adorable perfection.

Wherein Blaine is Well on His Way to Becoming a Crazy Cat Lady by water_nix/the-water-nixie. Kurt’s impending move to New York may be upsetting Blaine far more than he is letting on. Cue Kurt and a plan to help soften the blow. Absolutely hilarious fic with spot-on voices for the the boys and the old ND members.

Wrapped in a Bow by livehighnmighty. Adorable Box Scene reaction fic. Posted on LJ.

You Are Not Perfect … To Me by cinnamont. 4x04. Kurt calls the universe’s greatest Dad for comfort and understanding and gets a whole lot more. Or, Burt Hummel giving Kurt and Blaine a fatherly reality check.

You Touch Every Place in My Heart by bluecloudsupabove/ca_te. Alternative S4 Thanksgiving, where Blaine comes to NYC to surprise Kurt, with some loving and insistent help from Rachel. Cate wrote this for me after talking to me for the first time, during one of the hardest periods of my life, and it is so gorgeous and sweet and perfect that it made me cry. Posted on LJ.

#Klaine #fic #fic recs #update

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angeltriestoblog · 5 years ago

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The One With All The Books: My favorites + tips on how to get out of your reading slump!

Ever since I was a kid, I've been obsessed with books: while most children I knew then were preoccupied with Barbie dolls and battleships, I immersed myself in fictional worlds and found trusty companions in protagonists who embarked on adventures that transcended the limits of the physical universe. Back then, I would sleep with them under my pillow, read them in the backseat of our family car even on rather turbulent road trips, and turn to them during boring class discussions.

Over time, they ended up shaping my opinions and world views, fueling my hunger for knowledge, and inspiring me to put my own thoughts down on paper. It's safe to say I wouldn't be the person I am now, had it not been for my love for the written word. Which is why I find it odd that I haven't made any of the standard recommendation posts that would normally be found on the personal blog of someone like me. In an attempt to fix that, I'm sharing with you my eight favorites of all time, not only to give them a fitting tribute (that will still not be able to do their profound impact any justice), but also encourage you to pick up a good read! Who knows, maybe it'll change your life as much as it did to mine!

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle

As a kid, I loved both science and fiction, but always saw them as two concepts completely opposite from each other. When I found out that they could marry and live in perfect harmony in a genre of their own, I was over the moon. It was exciting enough, getting to teleport across universes by folding the fabric of space and time, encounter terrifying creatures who somehow parallel actual people on Earth, and learn about obscure scientific concepts. But, the fact that it manages to tie in the triumph of good over evil, and the power of familial love was just the cherry on top for me. I brought this with me everywhere I went for a solid two months, obviously with good reason.

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery

My mom had recommended this to me in high school, and I put off buying it for so long because I originally thought I was "too old to be reading stuff like that". Much to my surprise, what was practically disguised as a children's book, with its simple prose and watercolor illustrations, served as both as a moral allegory and criticism of the way adults operate in today's world. Though its length can trick you into thinking it's a fast read, most passages demand to be looked at a second time, reflected on, and shared to the nearest person—if you're the type to protest against annotating, you might have to rethink your stance.

Inkheart by Cornelia Funke

When I was in grade school, my parents had this rule where I was only allowed to buy a new book during special occasions, to control the growing number we had piling up in our house. I remember seeing this in the NBS branch in Glorietta, and having to wait until the end of the quarter to ask my parents to get it for me. Oh, well: as the cheesy saying goes, "True love waits." Although if there is anyone who loves books more than I do, it's Meggie Folchart, as she has inherited her father's gift of bringing fictional characters to life. But, when disaster strikes, as it always does, she must learn how to harness this special power and save her family. The world-building and imagery is unbelievably rich, Funke doesn't just paint a picture in your head: she creates a whole ass movie. No wonder eight year-old me put her up on a pedestal.

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (the entire series, but maybe the third was my favorite) (ok it was, don't tell the two others) by Jenny Han

The blurb at the back of the book certainly doesn't do it justice: I remember finding this at a nearby Fully Booked and putting it down instantly, dismissing it as another cliche YA novel. Sure, Lara Jean Covey has to deal with all five of her unsent love letters to her crushes being mysteriously sent out, but she also grapples with important issues such as identity, family, and—in the third book—the future. I read Always and Forever, Lara Jean during the summer before I entered university, and every single line resonated with me so much I paused at the end of every chapter to take a crying selfie. Plus, Peter Kavinsky is my literary dream boy: if I ever expect my future significant other to take me on a cross-country road trip to go antique shopping, they'll only have him to blame.

Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler

We're taught that we shouldn't judge books by their covers, but I'm glad my twelve year old self decided to brush that aside when she bought this. Although I didn't end up reading it until five years after, I devoured the thick hardbound in a day and a half, and was reduced to a ball on my couch shortly afterwards. I know the book has the most self-explanatory title, but it's just that it takes on the universal experience of first love and heartbreak so authentically. The stream of consciousness writing style and slow pacing may be an issue for some, but I reckon it adds to its charm, as it allows Min to take readers through all the motions of a relationship in a way so relatable, entering her headspace feels like slipping into a second skin.

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens by Sean Covey

A friend of mine in high school had complained to me that her mother had made this required reading for her, and I suggested I'd take it off her hands for a bit. I ended up going through her copy thrice in a month. (Ah, what I would give to go back to the days when I could still afford to read on school days.) An issue a lot of books that claim to "change your life" have is that they elaborate on these supposedly groundbreaking ideas, yet fail to break them down into doable action steps. Fortunately, Covey shares his practical advice in a structured manner, complete with examples, illustrations, and the occasional dad joke, freeing it from any preachy or condescending undertones. I don't know how to say that this is the only self-help book you'll ever need without sounding like someone from the Home Shopping Network.

When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi

This paperback intimidated me from the moment I first saw it on a shelf, because of the metaphorical title and steep price. But, good thing I got around to buying it eventually: this harrowing story is told by a promising doctor with his whole life ahead of him, who turns into a patient as soon as he is diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. Reading this was difficult, because I knew that no matter how hard I tried to dissect and reflect on the questions of life and death being posed by the author, I could never come close to understanding how he felt. But, that didn't make the experience any less necessary.

Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert

Creativity is a rather difficult concept to talk about in depth, because it seems so abstract. This is why the author advises readers to treat it as a living entity: one that bestows the best of ideas to those who nurture it, complements the hustle and bustle of our daily lives, and demands our full participation despite the looming presence of fear. I finished this on a school bus ride home from school, and the minute I got home, I marathoned Gilbert's TED talks and keynote speeches on YouTube: there is a distinctly tender, somewhat spiritual quality in the way she speaks about her craft, that easily makes you hang on to and follow every word she says.

Now I know books aren't everyone's go-to when looking for a way to pass the time: I've heard people say that they can't find time for it, that there's nothing out there that piques their interest, or they simply don't have the patience, given that social media posts and Netflix shows practically hold our attention spans captive in this day and age. While all are valid points, they can clearly be worked around! I was in a funk during the start of my Christmas break, because I hadn't touched a non-academic book since the new school year had started. But, I managed to finish four in the span of a month, and am currently on my fifth, as of this writing. Here are some tips I have, just in case you want to kick your reading slump in the ass as well.

Start small. Like with any habit you want to build, introduce the behavior in small increments: five push-ups, five minutes of meditation, fifty pages of a novella. Then, once you're starting to get the hang of it again and you don't feel your two brain cells shrieking for help because they can't figure out if "lived" is an actual word in the English language, you can increase it depending on your progress. This happened to me when, thanks to a notably bad case of tsundoku, I had amassed 14 (!!!) unread books in a year. I decided to tackle as soon as my vacation started, so I kicked it off with a rather easy read: Matilda by Roald Dahl, 232 pages thin, with numerous drawings.

Read something you'd actually enjoy! It's gonna be hard to stay engaged in something that doesn't excite or entice you: reading is supposed to be a hobby, not a household chore. Find something written on an interest of yours, a field of study that you've always been curious about, a person that you've looked up to for forever: I truly believe that there is no topic that hasn't been written about at this point in time.

On a somewhat related note, don't be afraid to DNF books that don't satisfy you. A lot of us pick books up because everyone else loves it, and are afraid to put it down for the fear of being othered. But, if we've all come to believe that we should sever ties with people who no longer serve us, what makes it any different for books that just don't touch our lives? I remember reading The Bell Jar when I was 13 because it came highly recommended by someone on Instagram who I found really cool. It was far too heavy for me, but I couldn't find the heart to shelf it especially after how much it cost me.

Remember that physical copies are not the only way to go. Thanks to the presence of audio and e-books, one can now enjoy stories anywhere and any time, without the daunting feel of several pages, or the burden of lugging around heavy hardbounds. (Although you are missing out on one of the best parts of reading: new book smell. Your loss.) One might find it easier to process the information this way, or even appreciate whatever the author has to say.

Talk about it with a friend! They could help keep you accountable in following through your reading goals, give you solid (and sometimes even personalized) recommendations, or accompany you in mourning over the death of a major character. It's always been a dream of mine to start or join a book club for these exact reasons, but I'm afraid this post is possibly the closest I could get to that right now. Nevertheless, I'd love to hear your suggestions and give you more of my own! Drop me a message here (or here, here, and here!) if ever you're interested.

Love and light,

Angel

#recs #angeltriestoblog #life dump #book recommendations #my favorite books #reading slump #this is why i have poor eyesight

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gbynvr · 8 years ago

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40.

I have the beautiful honor of having a pen pal.

He lives over 2,000 miles away, but every time I receive a letter from him it feels like he’s whispering all the words right into my ear.

There is something so precious about that… About how words on paper in the handwriting of a friend can be etched onto your heart as you read them silently to yourself. There’s something so personal about it.

Recently I opened a letter from him that ended with “Gaby, I want to hear more about DACA from you, if you want to, because I just don’t understand how this could be something that hundreds of thousands of people are having adversity against with this government, there is no compassion… I’d love to hear your story on life when you moved away from Peru until now that you’re working and pioneering, whenever you have time to spare a few sentences.”

Well Haz, I have some time and I’d love to spare more than a few sentences, if you’ll have them. (as I mentioned to you privately I will be touching on everything else in your letter via our normal postal method of communication, and I hope you don’t mind I’m answering this part of your letter on my blog, but it’s been a while since I’ve blogged something other than a poem, and I’m itching to write about this, so it seemed appropriate).

When I read that part of the letter, my heart throbbed, because I surprisingly don’t get asked about this… not in the way I feel I want to be asked about it, and not from people that really care. No one looks at me and asks “hey, how has your tumultuous cultural and illegal upbringing been for you, how has immigration shaped your life, how are you dealing with this piece of crap DACA thing?”

And I don’t want that to discredit the people that have tried to provide love and compassion to me in regards to my legal situation, but honestly I’ve never felt like my american friends get it, or care, or really want to understand, and that makes it easier to bury any emotional complication regarding this issue deep inside me. Which is sometimes quite toxic.

With the exception of Shannon, who has legitimately wept with me and taken time to sympathize with all my internal confusion on being an immigrant, many of my white friends don’t have time to listen to my insecurities, and even if they did, I can see in their eyes they don’t care. And that’s okay, because a lot of it I can’t explain to myself. So much of me is carved from my perception of the world, and that vision can sometimes be cynical, it can be sad, and it can be ungrateful, and I know my white friends can’t and shouldn’t have to hear about that.

But with Hazael, I know he asks because he cares. I know that what I say is of importance to him, and I have no doubt every word will be valued. So I’m dedicating this post to all my troubling insecurities and forgotten fears, many of which are still present but ignored. I’m not going to spare my feelings, and I will not apologize for blaming certain experiences in my life for my insecure feelings. I want to be honest so I can understand more about myself.

Here goes.

Recently I posted a poem here titled “CITIZEN”. I wrote this after my USCIS biometrics appointment, if you don’t know what that is, look it up… This poem did a decent job of describing the bits of me that feel afraid or broken, or maybe angry at my live’s situations. I suggest you read it before reading the rest of this.

Though the appointment wasn’t traumatic in any way, it still encouraged me to write.

It went as well as it could’ve gone, I hate those things even if at the end of it I was handed a cotton candy bag, I hate anything with a legal authority.

You can’t expect much from places like that anyway, run by big white men who are more privileged than you and look down on you. You can’t expect dignity to be shown to you in an place where their job is to bring up all the things that make you legally undignified… That being said it went fine. In and out, picture, fingerprints, twenty minutes, done.

To them, it’s another sad DACA kid going through the legal motions, to me I’m trying to do everything right… to me every step is thought out, every smile, every “thank you, have a nice day” every polite gesture. To me, I’m always making up for the fact that I’m illegal, at least in official situations like a biometrics appointment. I’m always the best I can be because I have to prove that I’m worth taking a chance on. I’m worth your empathy, I’m worth your kindness… whilst in the back of my mind wondering, “Am I?”

And it’s been this way for as long as I can remember. That feeling of climbing a rope that has no end. That hopeless idea of what normalcy is behind my fake life built on pretend normalcies of things that could at any moment end. It’s that undebatable knowledge that no matter what I want to tell myself, or others for that matter, I do not belong here.

And that’s shaped me. Inevitably, it’s that lingering thought, like a ringing in the back of my head that constantly makes me feel inferior, that as a child made me feel less than, underprivileged, unable to dream… And those feelings were quickly followed by deeper darker feelings of self uncertainty, or worthlessness, or even of ugliness. One could ask themselves how a legal status could make me feel ugly, but it’s not that complicated of a connection. This is because inferiority has given me a deep feeling of insecurity, which makes for a young girl like me, and much younger girl growing up, much too keen on noticing her flaws, oh so many flaws… so many of those flaws going back to my ethnicity, the whole origin of me.

Here are some moments of feeling internal and thus external ugliness:

5th grade: Substitute teacher asks me if I’m hispanic because of my name and I’m assuming also my looks, I say yes, and in front of the entire class she asks “are you a citizen?” dumbfounded and terrified I reply “yes” my face beaming with redness my stomach dropping, my eyes burn, and I’m racing through my mind wondering if lying was wrong, if my family will get in more trouble now that I’ve lied about our status, should I just have said no? But then she could have made a call.

7th grade: Social Studies class, we were learning about “illegal aliens” and the process in which people come into the country, along with various aspects of visas and passports. Mrs. Violet asks me to share how my family came to have citizenship since I came to the states after I was already born in Peru. Deep breath, don’t stutter, poised tone. I repeated the story I had told myself would be my cover story anytime this was brought up, the one I wish was really mine to tell. “My father was petitioned for citizenship by his sister whose been here for a long time, after many years he was accepted and therefore him and my mom could have residency and then citizenship, with them being citizens, their kids, being my siblings and I are almost automatically citizens, the process isn’t as difficult at that point”. It wasn’t a complete lie, my dad had been petitioned but it was after all of us were already here, and the process would take 10 years to work, if at all… and it didn’t, but we’ll get into that.

Sophomore year: French class, Mrs. Milone is talking about immigrants as she commonly does because she is a feisty French woman who always wants to know opinions and touches controversial subjects almost as often as she wears stripes, and I love her for this. But this time was sad. Milone is discussing how she thinks more immigrants should come, or how at least the ones here should be treated better. My close friend Elizabeth speaks up, “they just come here without any invitation and stay as long as they want and they are legally not supposed to be here why would we do anything for them or their kids, I just don’t get why they stay here when they can go back.” I remember feeling so betrayed so disgusted with her, but then immediately being so disgusted with myself. I remember feeling guilty, because I felt I had deceived someone into being my friend, who maybe wouldn’t want to be if they knew my entire story. How many other people feel this way? Elizabeth was an open minded individual, but this comment seemed so distinct to her normally understanding and thoughtful approaches on subjects. Maybe every open minded person I’d met feels like this, maybe I’m balancing on a thin line of acceptance that could end any moment with my truth. Maybe it’s not maybe, maybe it just is.

These are only 3 of the many, many times I had to hide my uncomfortable soul from crumbling in front of people when I felt victimized by a stereotype or a slang or anything derogatory about people like me.

Every immigrant’s story is different, each one has it’s sadness but there’s always one that’s worse, someone who has had it harder and someone who has had it better. It’s not hard to compare or empathize, but sometimes I feel guilty for feeling privileged over those who have less opportunities than me, and sometimes I feel envious of those with more. But that’s the complexity behind being reminded of where your privilege lands on this Earth. and growing up I was reminded of it constantly… Maybe it would have helped to grow up in another part of America, with less white beauty, or more poverty, or just more people like me… but I didn’t, I grew up in a really beautiful part of this country surrounded by people who had very different lives from mine. This confused my view of life… because I knew the majority of people around me couldn’t understand much about my background. So yes, every immigrant’s story varies, mine’s not the worst, and it’s not the best, but it’s mine, and here it is.

I was six years old when we moved to America. I can still feel the butterflies. I used to think America was in the clouds, that we had to take a plane up there, a place so high up it was the closest you could get to heaven. At the time, my idea of America was what every child in a third world country’s idea of America was… I used to think only the greats were there.

So let’s go back 14 years (14 freakin years), let’s go back to playing under the dining room table with plastic bags, let’s go back to lucuma ice cream on Saturday mornings with my mom singing the kitchen. Let’s go back to silly voices and hide and seek, let’s go back to anticuchos with my grandparents, and songs with Mamachita about Ayacucho, let’s go back to laughing with my cousins, and all our bubblegum games, let’s go back to freedom, to trips to Chimbote, and hot chicken soup on a summer day, to chicha morada at every gathering, let’s go back to my grandma scratching my back and to translated cartoons, and my God, let’s go back to that one trip to the zoo.

But let’s also go back to cat calls on the way home from school at 4 years old, let’s go back to robbery, let’s go back to never going outside, let’s go back to poor, let’s go back to Dad crying, let’s go back to worrying if he’ll come home safe that night, let’s go back to not making ends meet, let’s go back to no future, let’s go back to mom and dad taking turns leaving for six months to make some cash to send back home, let’s go back to bargaining education with the money to survive.

… I remember being six and packing all my favorite things into a small barbie suitcase that still smelled new. It was a gift from my aunt, one of the only new things I had and I cherished it, inside I put a journal with all my little thoughts, I threw in my favorite pencils, my doll, my stickers I got for Christmas the year before, and other random things that I valued so much at the time. I remember taking in a deep breath smelling that delicious new plastic smell tainted with a hint of my house, and closing it up. “For safe keeping” I thought to myself. I didn’t want anything to happen to my precious belongings while I was away, but “I’ll be back soon” I kept telling myself. The barbie suitcase was left with our other special belongings in the back room at the end of the hall way in our childhood home. The home my parents built. The home that was my entire world back then… After locking the room I waved goodbye to Martin, my imaginary friend, and we were off.

My parents told me we were going to America to visit my uncle in Florida, “that’s where Disney is!” they said. So if anyone in the airport asked, that’s what we were supposed to say, we were simply going on vacation, therefore we only brought a few belongings…our suitcases were so small, because we were pretending to only be going for a short time. Being that little I didn’t know that. I really thought we were going to Disney, I really thought we’d go back home soon. I remember how long that feeling stayed. Even a couple years later my heartache for Peru was so strong…

I remember feeling nervous, but excited. I was practicing my “hello” which was bathed in a thick accent. However, my excitement turned into fear pretty quickly after entering the US, with not being able to understand anyone, and instantly missing my Grandma, I just remember feeling confused. I held onto my Dad’s leg, I remember the way his jeans smelled, I remember because they smell like that now, and no matter what, that smell can get me through anything.

I remember bits of our short time in Florida.. mostly I can visualize my Uncle’s home. It was huge… I found out later he wasn’t really our uncle, he was a far off relative of my Dad’s who let us stay with his family for 4 nights before we went to New York. It was a good thing this was the first place we stayed in, it kept the illusion of America alive… My uncle had a son, a little younger than Olga who spoke a butchered Spanish, I remember asking him if he spoke English and him giving me a weird look and replying with an “of course” followed by my sisters sushing me for asking such a stupid question. But in my innocence I was stunned that he was so American, I looked at all his toys and his room, so much more luxurious than anything I’d ever seen, and he spoke English! If this was America, I was ready for it.

But I found out later that week, America wasn’t all my Uncle’s big beautiful house in Florida, there was so much to learn about this new place. And it all came quite shockingly when we flew to my aunt in NY. It was February, it was cold, and snowy, and I remember wondering why it was so dirty. Why wasn’t it the way it was in The Grinch where everything was lit up and beautiful? Why were the streets dark and sad, why was my Aunt’s apartment so small? I remember sleeping on her couch, Rodrigo by my feet, I realized Disney was out of the question and I remember feeling lost. I can recall beginning to wonder how long it would be until we went back home.

Not too long after that we were living in a basement apartment, and I was in school. There were so many kids who spoke Spanish that my classes were actually in Spanish, it didn’t feel too crazy to be there anymore. I felt like i could fit in. We had our family with us, my aunts and uncles lived in New York, sometimes things felt like being back in Peru.

Shortly into our time living in the first basement apartment, the place started flooding, I remember my mom fell on the cold wet floor before work one day, she was working in a factory at the time and had an evening job too, my dad had a couple jobs as well, she was in so much pain I felt so bad she had to work in that condition.

We moved out of that apartment into a different basement place. My parents had managed to save up a little bit of money at the time. It wasn’t much, maybe a couple thousand dollars, but it was all we had ,and it was the first building block of our lives here. One terrible day someone came in through the window when no one was home and took the money from under the mattress leaving just a couple hundred dollars in its place, how very thoughtful of them…

The way my mother sobbed was heart wrenching. “We have nothing” she kept saying. They were so heart broken, my dad and her, so defeated. They had worked so tirelessly those first few months in America. I knew they missed home, they missed their language, their food, their comfort, and their freedom… Everything was already so new, this was something they were not prepared to handle. They had done everything they could to ensure we would have food, shelter, clothes, and on top of this, they had to start saving for our future, because that’s why we were here, for our future. Mom and Dad had given up on a comfortable life for the two of them, they were going to work until their bones shattered if it meant giving us a chance. And then, to feel like you’re getting somewhere… like you’re finally back on your feet and then be violated that way, they were just so destroyed.

This also made them worry for us, here we are living in a place with less safety than we had in Peru. How could it be worse than what we left behind?

Unsurprisingly, not too long after that incident we moved to Rhode Island. My mom and Dad had a beautiful way of doing that, of problem solving, and putting us first. We would not continue living in a place where we were going to be in danger, where people could brake into where we slept at night, they wanted more for us. So we packed our things and left.

We lived with my aunt Lucia for a few months before finding a place of our own. we all started new school again… this time the kids were all white, everyone spoke English and the only person I could talk to was my ESL teacher. I used to have such bad anxiety going to school I remember my dad dropping me off in the morning and I hated letting go of him. Out of the 6 hours in the school day I would silently sob for at least 3. First grade, no-english-gaby was a rough time.

Mom and Dad started working at Burger King and Wendy’s, until the manager at Burger King realized their Social Security cards weren’t going through and he had to fire them. Again they were so broken. But they got back up. Mom picked up a cleaning job at a laundry mat in the evenings, and a hotel job on the weekends. My dad started to work at Ruby Tuesday’s. They both still had Wendy’s on top of this. Thinking back now, there were times they each had three or four jobs.

In those jobs they weren’t always treated decently. You have to understand, part of the stigma that comes with being an immigrant is the jobs they have. my parents worked more diligently and selflessly for us than anyone I’ve ever known… despite grueling shifts, and co workers making their lives difficult, they always kept their head up. But people don’t see that when they see them, They just see an ignorant Spanish worker.

One day I’ll never forget was the day my Dad quit Ruby Tuesday’s. He had been sitting on the couch the week before looking so upset. I cuddled up next to him to see what was wrong. He told me they had been purposefully leaving extra work for him and laughing at him when he did it. One of the workers had dropped something on the floor next to him so they could all watch him pick it up and laugh. He began to cry when he told me this. It was the 3rd time in my life I had seen him cry. The first was when he quit smoking, the second was when we got robbed and he cried with mom, and the third was this. I was so angry, and so hurt, I wanted to take away all his embarrassment and pain, I wanted to fight anyone who made him feel like this. My father is the smartest person I know, he is a genius. He is an artist. He is a chef, He can tailor a suit like no one else, he can do anything… And no one else saw this. I’m not one for appearances, but my father is the greatest human on this earth, he’s also incredibly humble. So you can understand my heartbreak when I hear about a bunch of idiots making his life miserable because they think he’s just another stupid immigrant who won’t fight back. When people see immigrants working low paying jobs, they think these people are the worst of the worst, and they are therefore treated that way… But these people are my father and mother. These people are the greatest people I’ve met. They are better than me, better than them, better than anyone who has had life handed to them on a silver platter. They are smart, hard working, loving, passionate, and whole. And they are also the ones who get laughed at. And that is a terribly unfair fact.

…. When we first moved to RI we didn’t see them together often but we always had one parent around, they made sure we weren’t alone too often. Still, we were alone a lot. The apartment we lived in at this time was a summer home that we were renting out in the winter so the rent would be cheaper. It was beautiful and big, and actually a real home. I remember running through all the rooms so shocked we were really going to live in a place like this. It seemed too good to be true… and it kinda was. We had to sleep in the same room, sometimes all sharing a bed by pushing them together, I remember putting my cold feet between my Dad’s warm legs at night. We couldn’t afford to heat the entire house, so we’d have a tiny heater in the back room and all cuddle up. I know this sounds weirdly sad, but it’s not… I still dream of those night together. Sometimes, poverty can be so uniting.

I remember the first Christmas in that house. We all got gifts. Real gifts. I couldn’t believe it. we sat with crossed legs on the floor while Mom and Dad passed around our presents my Dad filming everything on his old Camera he’d been using with us since I was 3. They were so proud, they were so happy to be able to give us something. I wish I could go back and tell them not to worry about it, that we were happy with everything else they had done for us, I wish I could tell them at that time just how proud they make me feel everyday. I’d also probably tell them to stop with Christmas already, but that’s another story, I’ll save our “learning the truth” story for another post because it’s an entirely different tale.

Going back to that night, I can recall that some of the gifts were obviously donated, but some stuff was new, I found out later in life that it was because my parents used to go to a charity that gave toys for families with lots of kids and little money, that charity saved a lot of Christmases for us… we only got personalized gifts on our birthdays. I remember how excited I was when I turned 7 in that house and my parents got me a baby blue barbie scooter and buggie. I was over the moon with excitement.

Another weird memory of that birthday was my bratty American cousin, (Lucia’s nephew) asking about my gifts later that week and when I showed him my new toys with pride and a big grin, he laughed and said “that’s it?”, I was so embarrassed. Which is stupid, looking back now, I shouldn’t have been embarrassed, he was the one being rude, not me… and besides compared to the 7 year olds in Peru celebrating their birthdays I was living it up with my new toys.

… After the winter season ended, we had to move out of that cozy real home and into another apartment, this time above another hispanic family in a small white house. My siblings and I all shared a room, and my parents makeshifted their room into a living room/bedroom/playroom. Life was comfortable in this time, until our downstairs neighbors moved out and were replaced with an American couple. I won’t get into it too much, but these people were horrible. They would bang the ceiling when we walked around, give us the finger when we saw them, just basically constantly harass us… But we were illegal and a bit ignorant so we never said anything, because we were afraid no one would be on our side.

One day, after a weekend in which the boyfriend living downstairs had been particularly rude, I was looking a bit glum in class. As a 7 year old I was sad that my family had to go through this and it was showing in my general attitude. The girlfriend was a TA in my school and I guess noticed me looking down, she took this as initiative to ask me about my family. She wanted to know if anyone in my family was dangerous, I mentioned I had an Uncle who was a drug addict and self harmed a lot, he was scary I told her, but he lived in Peru so I wasn’t worried. She listened and took this information to her boyfriend, who wanted us out from the moment he came across us. So they called DCYF. I remember a man came to our apartment and asked to meet everyone, he asked us about anyone cutting themselves here and inspected all of our arms, then he asked to meet the men in the house… at the time my older cousin and his girlfriend were living with us, work was slow in NY so we had taken them in for some time. The DCYF guy didn’t find anything, and eventually that little issue faded away but it was so scary and I felt so guilty, I thought because of me we could have gotten deported, or my cousin could have gotten deported. I felt like I had done something horribly wrong. And that seemed to be a running theme in my life… no matter how minuscule of an act there was always a thought in the back of my head that it could lead to us getting deported.

After the DCYF incident the harassment didn’t stop. The boyfriend came to our door once and said he had bought out the house and we had to leave, that there was no point in contacting the owners, he was the owner now. We obviously didn’t believe it, but we were scared… Another time he knocked when my siblings and I were home alone… He was screaming at Olga and probably drunk, I remember he called her a bitch, and she began to cry… she was only 13. I remember she took it upon herself to call 911, and they told her to hold the phone behind her back while he yelled so they could listen. Shortly after that, the cops came and defended us, scolding him for behaving so horribly to children. This was my first good interaction with a legal authority figure, and I remember feeling comforted, but it didn’t take away my fear of them.

Following this and a few more incidents we moved out. We moved across the street into an apartment complex called Oxbow Farms, (kind of a weird name since there was nothing farmlike about the place) Anyway, we ended up living there until I was 17. By that time Mom and Dad had saved up enough money to buy a house. They had worked minimum wage jobs for 11 years at this point and had managed to save up a tiny fortune… enough to by a home in cash. I’m telling you, they’re superhuman.

The home we bought was disgusting. It had potential but it was all trashed, it took literally days to get the crap out and my Dad (the genius) rebuilt both bathrooms and completely renovated the basement, adding two bedrooms for Rod and I and a second living room.

And that’s where we are still living now. And it looks beautiful, it stuns me to know this is our life, this is our home. They did it.

With the income of all of us put together we are able to keep this place rolling. Thankfully we are older now. We all have proper jobs, Mom only has to work 2 days a week and my dad still kills himself from 4 AM to 1:30 PM 5 days a week as a maintenance man in McDonalds, but they each only have one job. He says he’s used to that schedule, he’s been waking up at 4:00 AM for the past 14 years.

Regardless of how life is now, it’s fair to say they are less stressed out and life is calmer. Their work ethic the first few years here really payed off.

We bought the house under my sister Olga’s name since she had a social security number… as a matter of fact we all do at this point.

This is because in 2012 DACA was passed. It was a executive order put through by Obama which provided the four of us with the ability to get a license, a job, and go to school… Essentially, this changed our lives. Without it, none of us could work, or drive… never mind get a car, or a career. This tiny bit of documentation allowed us to dream in a country that had for so long ripped our hopes out of what to reach for. It gave us the a taste of freedom. A sense of normalcy, a way to fake our permanency here. DACA made all the crap from our childhood worth it. It made everything my parents worked so hard for make sense.

I remember driving around with my mother in Bristol one day, we had grabbed some coffee and gone to a few thrift stores. I was telling her about how my job was going, at the time I was working at a daycare and at a law office, where I still work now… I remember the feel of her stare on me as I drove through the neighborhood. I asked her what she was so focussed on and she replied with “just you… your independence, the fact that this is your life, what I would have given to be able to have days like this at your age.” And she was so right. 20 year old me in Peru would not have the freedom to drive around alone aimlessly reading books on a sunny day sipping carefully brewed coffee from a local shop. Because that could-have-been-Gaby would have been too scared of getting robbed, too afraid of being abducted, or of getting raped. She would have been more concerned with her safety than she would be with how up to date she was on her cultural literature, or any form of art… My world would have been so different. And so much about me would have had no chance of making its way in my soul.

For everything that America has taken, it’s given me a lot. And that internal complication makes for an interesting love/hate relationship. I love my life now. Sure we had a good 8 years of real, genuine struggle in this country but we were kids… we were simple. We didn’t need much, we just needed each other and we needed to survive, and we did. But our life once we started becoming more independent, that’s a life few people on Earth get to experience.

Despite the daily fear and feeling of inferiority, I still get to have my life. I still get to ponder. I have the time and the opportunity to explore who I am in a way I wouldn’t have been able to do in Peru. America is a place for dreamers, it’s not all fair, and it’s definitely not all flowers and sunshine… But what you want to do here you can do it. And that’s pretty spectacular.

You can have multiple jobs here, explore what it is you like. It’s possible to make money, to build up small careers out of hobbies. America is made for hustlers, and that’s why immigrants succeed, because we are natural born opportunity seekers. We are hungry for the chances to make our life better. Not in a vain, greedy way…at least not for my family. We simply comprehend where our privilege lies on this earth and we don’t take that for granted.

I remember walking to school in Peru, watching kids beg to wash people’s cars for just a little bit of money so they could survive. I remember them walking around barefoot, I can hear their tears. And I will never understand why this is my life now and most of those kids are still struggling. I hate America for allowing me the opportunity to get comfortable with DACA, it gave me a breather, a chance to let down my walls. I could see myself as a young woman, as a grown up independent person making her way. I forgot what it felt like to constantly be reminded of my temporaries. And I know that now with DACA being rescinded I will inevitably go back to that scared little girl, always thinking deportation is around the corner, but I also love America for the time it gave me. For the time I had here to find out who I was. I have had fun in my life, I have not suffered, I have not had to look in my kitchen wondering why there is no food. I am healthy, I have the chance to make tomorrow be whatever I choose it to be. I have experienced culture beyond the ground I was born on and I am blessed… I am so much more blessed than I deserve to be.

So that’s where we are now, in limbo of going and staying. I do not know Peru, I do not feel it’s my home. But I love that it’s where I came from and if life takes me back there, I’m no longer a child, I’m no longer a small frightened kid. I know life is not always on my side, and I’m ready for something new. I have moments where I sit and think about how much I hate being unwanted in a place where I’ve cuddled up my life in for 14 years, but the feeling passes, I can swallow that reality… I can move on.

There’s a lot more to our story that hasn’t been mentioned, a lot more insecurities, a lot more unfair treatment, and also a lot more smiles, and laughs, a trips as a family. There has been a lot of good, a lot of great, and some bad. There have been more jobs than ones I’ve mentioned, more tears, but these years have also built us up. I don’t think I’d change my life. I don’t think I could take the guilt of having had absolutely zero suffering. I already feel too bad for the blessings I have, that others don’t… the blessings that many people in my family living back in Peru don’t have. I don’t know how people do it. How most Americans live calmly in their fake beauty and life of privilege without wondering why they’re so lucky.

I want so badly to live in a place where I’m not reminded of my limits. I want a solution. And if that doesn’t come, I don’t want to continue living in fear, I won’t do it again. I can’t. But I’m thankful for every little thing life has given me. I have complexities in my expressions, but I do not take existing for granted.

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