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thewulf · 10 months ago

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Not Just Pals || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Hello darling! I have a request for you if you don't mind... It's a hangman x fem! Reader pen pals to friends to lovers kind of thing. Like maybe when he was in the academy someone put his name in this program to write to college students but joke on them because he got paired with reader and they hit it off almost instantly... Read Rest Here

A/N: Whew! This one was for whatever reason really tough to write! I changed it up a little bit but I hope you guys still enjoy it. :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.9k +

T/W : Self-doubt

October 9th, 2014

Hi There Y/N,

I’m not sure how you’re really supposed to start one of these things? How are you supposed to go about talking to somebody you’ve literally never met before? Although the Navy/Army pen pal thing could be interesting. I’ll be honest, my buddy signed me up and I didn’t think I’d actually write anything down but then I got the email with your name on it, Cadet Y/N Y/L/N. Consider myself intrigued.

What’s it like up in New York? Is it cold? Do you get a lot of snow? It gets awfully cold down here in Maryland, so I have to imagine how cold it gets up there. I’m from Texas so I’m still adjusting to this weather… four years later. It’s not easy. I think it’s the hardest part of living in the northeast. I’d rather run a marathon with a thirty-pound pack on than sit outside in the snow for more than twenty minutes. I hope to get stationed somewhere warm when this is all set and done.

Your ‘about me’ says you’re going into the Air Defense Artillery after West Point… which is the exact opposite of what I’m doing. Consider myself doubly intrigued Cadet. What do you do? Fire missiles and rockets at jets? That can’t possibly be as much fun as firing them when you’re in the air. It’s cool just not nearly as cool as what I do, know what I mean? Maybe a close second though.

Have you even been in a jet before? I bet you’d like it. I obviously don’t know you, but I haven’t met many people who didn’t like it. There’s something so freeing about flying 1,000 miles per hour in a tiny silver tube. You should try it sometime. If this whole thing works out maybe I’ll even take you up one day, who knows?

I guess that was my attempt at 20 questions. Hopefully you didn’t find it too annoying. Hope to hear back from you soon!

Jake Seresin

November 23rd ,2014

Hello Future Lieutenant Jake Seresin,

I’m thrilled you actually decided to write. I’m glad my name was all you needed to pick up that pen. I have to admit you made me giggle a few times. You seem effortlessly funny Mr. Seresin. Even for a soon-to-be Pilot.

I find it comical you’re asking me about the weather of all things, Midshipmen. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do on an awkward first date? But to answer your question, yes it’s cold as all get out up here. But I’m from Indiana so I’m used to it. Doesn’t mean I didn’t wish West Point wasn’t in Georgia or something. Why’d they have to put all the Military schools in the north?

What was it like growing up in Texas? Did you ever see snow? One of my favorite memories from this place is watching my roommate (who’s from Florida) see and play in snow for the first time. She froze her ass off but had the day of her life. She also hates snow now. So, it looks like you warm people have that in common.

To sum it up I guess you can say we fire rockets and missiles. My professors always say, ‘If it sounds like rocket science, it is’. Basically, we need to protect the ground troops from the flying bastards aka you. Although we do love our American flying bastards. So, I guess that doesn’t knock you down too many pegs in my book. Do you think they matched us up because our jobs are the antithesis of the other? If so, somebody had a hilarious sense of humor.

I’ve never been in a jet, and I have no plans to either. I don’t think I’d enjoy it if we’re being honest. You’re talking to the girl who gets sea-sick on cruises and had to take a motion pill if we’re going to an amusement park. My lil brain can’t handle the motion. A character flaw as they say. I also have a sense that you wouldn’t go to easy on me, being Army and all. I’ll stick to my calculations and rockets.

Don’t tell anybody I wrote this, but I do think what you guys do is so badass. I work with a bunch of jealous Cadets who couldn’t make it into the Army Aviation division, they’re just bitter. When I was little my dad used to take me to the Blue Angels shows in Chicago whenever they made their way across the States. Kind of the reason why I wanted to be in the military in the first place. But only my dad knows that. And well, I guess you now too. So, keep my secret safe Mr. Seresin.

I know the weather is less than desirable, but I do hope you’re finding things you love in Annapolis! There are some of the best crab cakes I’ve ever had there.

Thanks for the smiles after a long week!

Your New Friend,

Y/N Y/L/N

February 16th, 2015

Future Second Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N,

That has a right to it doesn’t it? Your name sounds good with a Second Lieutenant in front of it. Sorry it’s been so long since I wrote. Getting busy with graduation coming up and practical’s and all. It’s a lame excuse I know, but it’s all I got. I hope you know how big I smiled reading your letter to me. I read it about fifty times before I could write a decent response to you. You have a way with words that I haven’t read in a long, long time.

Was your father in the military? None of my family was. I also loved the Blue Angels when they came down to Houston for the air shows. I’d always beg and plead and finally my mom or sister would give in and take me. They’re also the reason I’m here. So, I guess we should thank them that we got to meet. Neither you nor I would be in these academies without them. Your secret is locked away in the drawer and safe in my head too. It’s super safe with me.

I’ll be honest, the food here is so damn good. I sure do miss my Texas barbeque, but the spread is better up over here. Plus, the snacks? I didn’t know there was different brands sold across the states and you guys have better girl scout cookies! That’s just not fair. I could’ve gone my whole life knowing that there were two versions of girl scout cookies and I got the worse version. I’ve enjoyed the move far more than I’ve regretted it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. It doesn’t guarantee I’ll be a pilot, but it means I’m one step closer to getting there.

What all schooling do you have to do after you graduate this spring? Are you up for deployment soon? I’ve got a lot left to go. If I get picked after I’ve got a few years of flight school ahead of me. Then I’ll really be off. Wish me luck I make it!

With Love,

Jake

March 13th, 2015

Mr. Seresin,

I was getting worried! I thought it was something I had wrote. I’m glad it’s your negligence and not mine for the lack of communication. I forgive you though. It’s been stressful up here in New York as well. I luckily don’t have any practical’s I need to worry about. Just a few nuclear engineering classes are standing in between me and graduation.

I just have a year of Officer School (if I get selected that is) after this is all set and done come June. We have to apply this April so I’m getting a little anxious about the whole thing. I don’t really have a backup plan that I’d actually like to do so I really, really hope I get selected. Enough about me though, let’s talk about you. You’re going to get picked! Don’t let any bad thoughts get in between you and your goal. I think you’ll make a fine pilot Jake. You seem to have your wits about you which is the first step a lot of people miss.

My dad was in the Navy, like you. Don’t gloat though, it’ll ruin the finely crafted image I have of you. He was a deck hand or something like that. I wish I could ask him some more about it, but he passed when I was just thirteen. I just remember he loved being in the Navy. He loved everything about it. He made it seem like anything was possible with a passion.

I’m glad you’re enjoying the food and the girl scout cookies. It took me by surprise when I got Peanut Butter Patties instead of Tagalongs when I was down south for a winter. I’m so glad I grew up where the real GSC are sold.

I hope this letter brought you as much joy as yours brought me.

With the Same Love,

Y/N

(P.S. – Here’s my number if you’d like to text instead of write. No pressure!)

It had only been a week since you sent the last letter. Sure, you hadn’t really known the guy all too well but there was something so exciting about sending written mail. You felt like a little kid on Christmas waiting for a response from him. Who knew throwing your name in something so silly for your class would bring you so much joy.

You sat down on your desk setting your computer out front of you to study. Jake was right. It was an awfully busy time of the year. Applying for your future. Studying for you exams. When you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket you truly didn’t think much of it. It was only hours later when you finally closed the laptop shut that you went to check it that your face scrunched in confusion. You didn’t recognize the area code. It was then that it clicked that it could be him.

No pressure at all text! Hi there (it’s Jake).

You grinned reading it over and over again. That was quick! Maybe you made an impression? You sure hoped so. You hardly even knew what the guy looked like. You might’ve gone digging a little when you got his name. He was cute. Handsome even. But he seemed like that type. That arrogant pilot type. But even in just the two letters you received from him you got the hint that he wasn’t that type of guy at all.

I didn’t think you’d actually text me. It’s good to hear from you.

The messages between the two of you were infrequent at best as the semester ended. But he never failed to put a smile on your face. When you needed a pick me up you went through and read the messages that popped up.

On your graduation day you sent him a picture of you and a few friends in a cap and gown with the text: Beat you! You’re also looking at your newest Officer Candidate too!

You didn’t have to wait long for a reply. Your face only grew with glee seeing his response: Congrats Second Lieutenant. And future Captain. Knew you’d do it. You look beautiful as always.

Typing a quick reply, you hid your smile away just knowing your friends would make a stupid comment about the mystery man that always had you so smiley: You’re making me blush all the way up here in New York. I better get a picture next weekend when you do the same, future Lieutenant.

He came through on your request. When you got the text you could only smile. You spotted him in the picture immediately, your eyes drawn to him. He was so damned handsome. How lucky were you to get paired with a guy like that? Your smile grew further when you read the message: Lieutenant (and future pilot) Jake Seresin reporting for picture duty.

The messages occurred naturally between through the years as you were deployed, and he was in school. Some months you texted more and some you didn’t hear from him at all. It never bothered you. The silly little thing called life happened for both of you.

Still, the two of you often made time for phone calls when the time was right. The first time you talked on the phone you thought you were going to quite literally throw up you were so nervous. But in typical Jake Seresin fashion he made you feel cool as a cucumber. You talked and talked and talked into the morning. It felt so normal. Like you were catching up with an old friend. Jake Seresin. Who was this man that was making it hard to date? He was quite literally everything you wanted and needed in a partner. The universe had a funny way of working sometimes.

It had been six long years since you received that first letter from him. He was off on a mission now. A dangerous one he couldn’t tell you much about. But he wanted you at his arrival back home in San Diego and you promised him you’d be there. Assured him. That’s how you ended up in here pacing in the hotel room contemplating whether you should really go or not. It felt too intimate, like you were intruding. But he did say none of his family would be there, they had other things going on as the mission was a bit of a surprise to everybody. The pilots were all instructed to keep it as quiet as possible.

Your hands were shaking as you parked your car in the overcrowded lot. Gripping the steering wheel, you took a long breath in. You could do this. You had to do this. For him, for you. You stepped out of the car and made you way to the dock. The aircraft carrier was already docked by the time you got to the meeting site. You stood back and waited. Watched and waited. It felt like an eternity then finally the men and women started pouring out in their Navy Whites. You’d always thought they looked the sharpest of the bunch, but you’d never tell Jake that. He’d make fun of your Army uniforms or something like that.

It felt like both an eternity and seconds later that you spotted him amongst the crowd of sailors exiting the ship searching high and low for you. You promised you’d be there. And here you were. He either felt your eyes on him or had an uncanny sense of timing as his eyes locked with your own. His smile had melted you right there on the spot. You felt helpless as you willed your brain to move but it wouldn’t. You only began to panic a little as he moved with ease through the crowd making his way right to you.

He stood in front of you. Jake Seresin stood in front of you, much taller than you thought, “I knew I recognized you. First Lieutenant Y/L/N.” His eyebrows raised as you gaped at him with wide eyes as if he wasn’t really there. Closing your mouth, you knew you needed to pull it together but that sounded much easier said than done. Jake freaking Seresin, your pen pal was really standing in front of you in real life. He was more of enigma in your mind at this point. Somebody you could have deep life conversations with so easily but never having actually met the man it was hard for you to grasp he was really real. And standing in front of you.

“Jake.” You smiled hoping it sounded somewhat normal. He was so much more handsome than the photos he sent through the years. How was that possible? Wasn’t it supposed to go the other way? You continued once your head finally could form coherent sentences, “Well it’s actually Captain now. Got promoted a couple weeks ago.”

He turned his head to the side just slightly, “You didn’t tell me that.” Almost looking offended you hadn’t told him.

“Never felt like the right time to divulge. With this mission and all. Had to keep you locked in.” You looked up to him now studying his face as you gained more courage talking to him. He was something your dreams couldn’t make up.

He nodded not daring to take his eyes off you. He too thought you were even prettier than he could have envisioned. You’d sent pictures and he’d followed your social media, but nothing could’ve prepared him. Especially in your civilian clothes, he was a sucker already. Deep down Jake knew you were the reason he was so non-committal before. He was looking for somebody just like you and couldn’t find her. Yet here you stood in front of him. You were so funny and witty and smart, and yet he couldn’t put it all into words. You are the whole package and so much more.

“You still could’ve told me. We talked enough before I left.” He grinned seeing that the tension was already easing from your shoulders.

You shook your head, “Wasn’t about me Seresin. I just wanted you to stay focused and safe. And thank goodness you did.” You admitted a little more than you wanted, but he just made you feel so gushy. Like you were a sweeter version of yourself you could hardly recognize. And the words just kept flowing out when he gave you that look with those green eyes.

“Oh yeah?” He challenged you a bit sensing that you were starting to feel a bit more comfortable with him already, “Didn’t think you’d be so relieved darlin’.”

Ignoring the sweet term of endearment you shook your head, “And waste six years of my life on nothing? Jake that’s so inefficient. Of course, I want you safe.” The words came fast, and they were snarkier than you intended. But you truly couldn’t help it. He had you relaxed within the first five minutes of talking to him. You felt like you could just be you.

He threw his head back in laughter. That same weight had lifted right off his shoulders when you snapped back at him like he was waiting on it, “There she is. My favorite mouthy girl.”

He said it so nonchalantly you thought your heart was going to combust on the spot. Your cheeks surely gave way to your reaction to his words. His favorite mouthy girl? Christ. He was trying to send you into a coma or something! Your brain quite literally short circuited as it failed to form any coherent sentence. He only chuckled in response seeing your cheeks heat up in a blazing blush.

“It’s so nice to actually see you in person. You know I’ve always told you this, but it rings even truer even now. You’re quite a stunner, Captain.” His eyes met yours before you looked away quickly feeling as though you were going to faint at those words. You weren’t sure how this interaction was going to go initially. But you really didn’t think he’d come right out and say that he found you stunning. The occasional letter and texts in between had grown flirtier the longer you had known him, but it never crossed your mind he’d be so outright with it.

You turned away out of sheer bashfulness. Never had a man been so bold with you before. It was foreign. Not uncomfortable, no. Nothing could be with him. He made it easier than seemed possible.

“You flatter me Jake.” You grinned up at him hoping your makeup would hide the darkening of your cheeks, “I should say the same for you. Handsome as ever.”

“Now you’re making me blush, Cap.” Sure as hell the faintest pink dusted his cheek, but he seemed much stronger than you. He kept the eye contact going.

You shook your head trying to bite back the big smile you had on your face, but it showed through anyway. How was he doing this? Making you feel so giddy just by looking at him. You knew this man but for the first time it actually felt like you might actually love him. You’d had the deepest conversations with him. When you needed a laugh you texted him. When you craved advice you called him. He was the guy you turned to. And it dawned on you that he never failed to answer you. He wanted to take your calls and answer your texts. He looked forward to it. He too had fallen for a woman he’d never met before.

You needed the change the subject and fast or more words would be tumbling out, “How was the mission? Everyone make it out okay?” You asked having no idea what you were getting yourself into. Jake hadn’t told you much about what they were doing, couldn’t tell you much. But now that it was over he couldn’t wait to tell you every nitty gritty little detail.

“I’ll tell you if you let me buy you a drink?” He gave you a smirk that sent nerves racing throughout your body. Jesus. This man was something else.

Giving him a curious once over you nodded, “Shouldn’t I be the one buying you a drink sailor? You coming home and all?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll never let you buy me a drink darlin’.”

Gosh, Jake was actually going to be the death of you. He was so good making his words come off so easily. You felt terribly high strung next to him, “And why not?”

“Because I’m trying to woo you sweetheart. When I get you to go on a date with me I have to impress you. Inevitably that’ll work and you’ll become my girlfriend. And I can’t have my girlfriend paying for my drinks, no. And it’ll only get worse when I get the pleasure of marrying you. If my wife thinks she’ll pay for a thing she had another thing coming.” He gleamed at you as if he didn’t just say all of that.

You gulped before a stupid smile grew on your face. Of course, you knew he was forward but again, he just took you on an entirely new adventure with that statement, “That’s quite a bold statement Jake.”

He shrugged, “I thought I should make my intentions perfectly clear. I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. And you’re perfectly you. Sharp as tack. Funnier than ever. You’re you. And I really like you.”

You let out a breath not sure if you really believed all of that, “So not just pals, huh?” It was all you could think of quickly but that did it for him. Sealed the deal. He knew he was going to marry you right then and there. You’d complete him in every way he needed you and vice versa.

He shook his head taking his arm in yours, “Not just pals.” Leaning into his gentle embrace you led him to your car where he would not let you drive. He insisted that it was a gentleman’s job even if he was only running off four hours of sleep. You’d appeased the man who was on his very best behavior. Not that you minded. Nope, not at all. You were thrilled that Jake was exactly who he seemed to be. Your Jake. Not just pals indeed.

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gorgeousundertow · 5 months ago

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@riddlersboyfriend Hi Luke, it's your summer exchange fic!! xoxoxoxo

Don't give it a hand, offer it a soul

Cross-posting on A03 since it's, ya know, long.

First Battalion

CO: Lt Col. Billy Turner. West Point. Demands fawning attention. Shouts. 3/10.

Charlie Company

Capt. Albert Hassenzahl.

From Cincinnati, Ohio. Worked in steel mill.

27 years old

Sometimes brash or impetuous, leading to friction within the unit.

Sufficient. 6/10

Sgt. Roy Speake Jr.

From Birmingham, Alabama. Foreman in cotton mill.

30 years old, yet willing to take orders from younger men.

7/10

Sgt. Mariano Sanchez.

From El Paso, Texas. Family owned a small grocery.

28 years old, difficulty conforming to protocol. Falls behind on runs.

5/10

T/5 John Davis.

From Detroit, Michigan. Janitor.

20 years old, works hard but talks too much.

6/10

Cpl. Harvey White.

From a small town in rural Kansas, farmer.

Age: 19. Inept and unreliable. Poor aim, shirks duties. But could improve if properly motivated.

4/10

Pfc. Paul Devoe.

From New Orleans, Louisiana. Line cook.

Age: 24. Charismatic and optimistic. Keeps spirits up, though impulsivity is an issue.

7/10

Schedule

0600 Reveille

0610 Formation

0630 Tidy barracks

0700 Calisthenics

0800 Wash up

0900 Barracks Inspection

0930 Currahee or obstacle course

1045 PT drills

1115 Outside lecture

1200 Lunch

1330 Mail Call

1345 Lecture/Classroom

1500 Parachute training

1700 Drill

1800 Supper

1900 Lecture/Classroom

2100 Return to barracks

2300 TAPS

Notes September 1942

Dislike Lt. Col. Turner intensely.

Training is more difficult than anticipated.

Seems that what was true in Boston remains true here. Cannot seem to join conversations with the other men, continue to make them uncomfortable. Thought it would be different here than it was back home.

Notes October 1942

Lt. Col Turner is incompetent, stupid, and worthless.

Perhaps other companies have it better; consider orchestrating a change? Investigate.

Notes November 1942

Chose E Company, 2nd Platoon at random, for observation.

Capt. Herbert Sobel

From Chicago, Illinois. Attending University of Illinois.

30 years old

Would be a close friend of Lt. Col. Turner.

2/10

1/Lt. Richard Winters

From Lancaster, Pennsylvania

26 years old, effective. Has the respect of his men. Commands from the front.

8/10

Sgt. Carwood Lipton

From Huntington, West Virginia. Worked in mother’s boarding house.

22 years old, quiet. And yet the men listen.

8/10

Cpl. Donald Hoobler

From Manchester, Ohio, three siblings, joined National Guard.

Age: 20. Young, but works hard.

6/10

Pfc. Joseph Liebgott

Born in Michigan, moved to San Francisco

Age: 27. Cab driver. Speaks German. Easily angered, needs focus.

7/10

Pvt. David Webster

From New York City. Harvard grad. Writer

Age: 20. Lazy, whiny, as bad at talking to others as I am, in a different way.

5/10

Will continue to observe

Notes December 1942

Col. Sink insisted we march 118 miles, from Toccoa to Atlanta. It snowed. It served no function but to boost the egos of men who did not march alongside us.

Companies became disorderly, and by the end we were not marching in our own battalions. As such, I was marching mostly with E Company.

I spoke with Winters, as he was willing to speak with me. For some reason, he does not seem put off by me as others are–perhaps that is because, apart from Lt. Lewis Nixon III of Nixon, NJ, of HQ Company, no one wants to talk to him, either. Nixon certainly does; he made his way all the way over to E Company from the very beginning of the march, and stayed there, right at Winters’ side. By that token, I spoke with Nixon, as well. The march was miserable, but I believe I enjoyed it more than I have enjoyed any other time here.

We did not talk about much of anything of consequence–Nixon ensured that. I think the man is incapable of serious conversation. You would think someone as thoughtful as Winters would dislike him for that, but clearly he does not. It is odd. They are odd.

I observed the other members of E Company as we marched. They are a tight-knit group, more so than C Company by far. It is not because of their CO, that’s certain; he does everything he can to drive them apart, and clearly loathes Winters.

Winters does what he can, but his resources are limited serving under a tyrant, an experience I can sympathize with. In truth, it is the NCOs that hold the Company together. To a man, they work tirelessly to keep spirits up, assisting those who are exhausted, making sure they eat and drink and sleep when they can.

Sgt. Lipton in particular has an interesting way about him. He doesn’t lead like the others, shouting at them to haul ass like Sgts. Guarnere and Martin do, in the time-honored tradition of NCOs. He gives orders, but he does so in a way that is almost friendly. I can’t wrap my head around it.

Notes January 1943

Continuing to observe Sgt. Lipton.

Pvt. Webster is improving, partly because of Sgt. Lipton. (It seems that Pfc. Liebgott has an influence as well, though I can’t fully understand it. To a casual observer–which I do not believe I am–Liebgott bullies him, but in such a way that it almost seems affectionate. It is puzzling). Sgt. Lipton’s approach is different. He encourages Webster (and others, I do not mean to suggest that his efforts are limited to one man–he supports the entire Platoon. Hell, the entire Company) in subtle ways, walking with him to help him keep the pace up, but letting Webster think it’s because he really wants to hear him talk about Impressionist painters or Romantic poets. Perhaps he does. It is difficult to tell; he seems so genuinely engaged.

Capt. Sobel chewed him out for an imaginary offense (a not unusual occurrence in Easy Company) and Sgt. Lipton accepted it with stoicism. But when Sobel turned his back, Sgt. Lipton smirked. He rolled his eyes. There is steel in him.

Notes February 1943

Went for a run with Winters this morning, came across Sgt. Lipton. Winters invited him to join us. Winters runs like a maniac; running with him allows me to push myself, now that we are now longer running Currahee. I expected Sgt. Lipton to decline, particularly given my presence–no NCO has ever wanted to socialize with me–but he did not. He kept pace with Winters easily. He runs very well.

When we finished, we headed for the showers before Reveille, and Sgt. Lipton grabbed towels for each of us, even though it was unnecessary.

Notes March 1943

Have continued to run with Winters every morning. We have not encountered Sgt. Lipton again.

Notes June 1943

Have ceased running with Winters, as it’s too hot and I have concluded that Winters is a lunatic. We have plenty of PT; there’s no need to add on more. I don’t know why I bothered.

Notes August 1943

Couldn’t sleep, as usual. Went out walking through Fort Benning, found myself by the NCO barracks. Stood and smoked for a while. Went back to bed.

Notes September 1943

The S.S. Samaria is miserable. Am crammed into a cabin with Winters, Nixon, Lt. Harry Welsh, Lt. Heyliger, Lt. Roush, and Lt. Meehan from Baker Company. We have to wear life jackets at all times, and Nixon won’t stop talking about how the Titanic didn’t have enough lifeboats, and the Samaria definitely doesn’t.

Sleep is impossible, so have taken to walking the deck at night. Came across Sgt. Lipton, offered him a cigarette even though I know he doesn’t smoke. He described the racks the enlisted men have, and I decided to shut up about my sleeping situation.

He was there the next night, and the next. He didn’t seem to mind my smoking. If he wasn’t on deck in the same place, I would have left him alone–I wouldn’t have gone looking for him. But he was always there, as if he was waiting for me. He didn’t say much, though neither did I, I suppose. We just looked out at the black sea.

Notes November 1943

Sgt. Lipton–and the other Sgts from Easy Company, I suppose–have mutinied on Winters’ behalf. It was brave. It was the right thing to do. It could force Sink’s hand, push him to realize how incompetent Sobel is. (We should try it in First Battalion).

But I don’t know what’s going to happen to them. To him.

Notes December 1943

It’s all right. Two Sgts. were punished, neither of them were him.

It is clear that my interest in Easy Company is not beneficial, and no longer necessary. I am not gaining anything. I should not be more informed on the goings on in a Company that isn’t my own–that isn’t even in my Battalion. I’m going to stop taking notes altogether, anyway–loose lips and all.

Notes May 1944

Have been transferred to Dog Company. If I see Lt. Col. Turner in combat, I’ll kill him.

This is all pointless, anyway. In all likelihood, I am going to die. We are all going to die. Even…even he is going to die.

Notes June 1944

Sgt. Lipton was injured at Carentan, I do not know how badly.

I was also injured. I will recover.

There were some incidents at Normandy. I shot an NCO; he was drunk and endangering the men. I shot six POWs. They were my first kills. I have killed more, since.

The looks men gave me, before we came, as if they weren’t sure what I was capable of.

They know, now. I know, too.

Notes July 1944

Sgt. Lipton was wounded in the groin and on the face. He is in the hospital here in Aldbourne, recovering. He is several beds down from me. He receives visitors throughout the day.

Now that he is up and about, he comes to say hello sometimes, as I am not yet able to walk. He does not avoid me, as the other men do.

He ought to; it would be better if he did. It’s useful that they fear me. It will make me a better leader.

Notes August 1944

Have been transferred to HQ Company, working alongside Nixon. It’s for the best.

Notes December 1944

Have been transferred back to Dog Company, as they are short on officers. We will be needed, I am told, for what’s coming in Belgium.

Notes January 1945

I couldn’t stop watching 1st Sgt. Lipton. With Winters leading the battalion and Lt. Dike as the empty shirt they’ve put in his place, Lipton has been the Company together. He is exhausted–we all are, of course, but it hurts somehow to see it on him. His eyes are shadowed, I could see it even from a distance. I patrolled the lines of Dog Company often, to catch a glimpse of him. I insisted that our medics share supplies, food. I wanted him to eat. To be safe. I was at the edge of the line when German artillery rained down, and I swear I heard him laughing. It was beautiful.

I would have gone across that field at Foy even if Winters hadn’t sent me. Someone had to go, and I was glad it was me. It was the easiest decision I ever made–it wasn’t even a decision, my feet were going before I even had the thought, as soon as they had Winters’ permission to do so.

And now, I’m in command of Easy Company. It feels…right. Like I should have been with them all along. I know these men. I know what they need.

I knew what 1st Sgt. Lipton needed–he needed to know that someone had watched him, had seen what he had done. Had seen the man he is. And so I told him, in a church, while a choir of girls sang in golden light. It was…a risk, because letting him know that allowed him to see me, as well. To an extent.

He still does not seem frightened of me. If anything, he seems a little amused. I don’t know what to make of it, exactly. But I don’t dislike it.

Notes February 1945

I’ve been promoted to Captain. One would think this would be welcome, but it is not. I couldn’t stop thinking of the men who have died, while I’m still here. I tried getting drunk–it’s what everyone else does, Nixon, Welsh, all of them. I’ve never really seen the point, but last night I thought, what the hell, it’s worth a shot.

I’m sharing quarters with 1st. Sgt. Lipton (he should be Lt. Lipton, but it hasn’t come through yet. Promotion won’t ruin him as it has me). I stumbled there, and I was…I couldn’t…I wasn’t as in control of myself as I would have liked to be.

In truth, I wasn’t anything close to control. I came into the tent so drunk I couldn’t see straight, and I was crying. I hadn’t cried before, not once in the entire war. Not with all the deaths. Not for the men who died or the men I killed. But I cried when I got my fucking captaincy.

Lipton was in bed, and I sat down on his cot. Aren’t you supposed to forget things that happen when you’re drunk? Why do I remember all of this?

I remember I tried to kiss him. At least, I think that’s what happened. It is a little fuzzy. All I know is that I was sitting there on his cot and he was in bed, lying down and listening to me, and then I was half on top of him. I think I remember my mouth on his…fuck, you’d think if I’d gone and done something so colossally stupid I would have the decency to be sure about it. You’d think it would be seared into my brain, something I could go back to sometimes, in the privacy of my own thoughts. But there’s nothing, really. Just a vague sense of closeness, of Lipton, right there.

I got to my own bed, somehow. He must have put me there–by that point, I was too drunk to know my own name. And in the morning he greeted me with his usual smile and a cup of extra strong coffee. As though nothing at all had happened. So I guess nothing did.

Notes February 1945

Lipton is sick. He’s been sick for a week or so, but he’s getting worse. It won’t stop. He won’t stop–just keeps acting like he’s fine, even though his fever is running so hot Doc Roe keeps trying to get him off the line. It’s pneumonia, and we’re out here in the cold, and he still won’t go. I’m so furious with him I don’t know what to do.

I can’t watch over him every minute, so I’ve put Luz on him. Luz has the right approach–firm, but with a smile. Lipton doesn’t respond to direct orders; I’ve tried that.

He remains infuriatingly competent, even when he coughs so hard I worry he’s going to drop a lung on my jump boots. Easy is running on fumes, and yet Lipton has it as organized as can be. And I can’t help coming to him for advice, to discuss options, even when he should be resting–because his advice is invaluable to me.

This town, Hagenau, has been blown to pieces. Is still being blown to pieces. We barely have roofs over our heads, though of course that’s practically a luxury, considering some of the places we’ve been. Easy CP is in a building with only one bed, and I’ve put Lipton there. It took some doing–I thought I was going to have to carry him there, and frankly he’s bigger and stronger than I am. Well, maybe not stronger, with pneumonia.

I could sleep in another room, of course, but I’ll be sleeping on the floor, in the same room. I want to be able to hear him if he needs anything, if he takes a turn for the worse.

Notes February 1945

Something happened last night. I don’t…I’m going to write it down, to see if that way I’ll understand it.

At 0230 I went to bed. The patrol did not go well. Two prisoners is not a fair exchange for Jackson. I was…upset. But I still moved quietly, so as not to disturb Lipton–only he was awake. He called me over, asked how the patrol went. I told him.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“It should never have happened,” I said.

He shrugged, his muscled shoulders moving in the low light from the fire I’d had Luz light in the hearth, and the cooler light from the moon.The room was warm, and he wore only his undershirt. “Lots of things have happened in this war that shouldn’t have, sir.”

I couldn’t argue with that. He slid to the side, gesturing for me to sit down on his bed, as I’d sat a couple of weeks ago, drunk off my head. I obeyed, but I frowned at him, unsure. “What are you doing awake? Can’t sleep? Should I get Roe?”

Lipton shook his head, a little smile on his face. “No. I’m feeling much better, sir. I wanted to see how you are.”

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “I…I’m fine?” It sounded like I was asking him for the right answer, but how I was wasn’t something I’d considered in…well, in years, I suppose. Since well before Normandy.

“Good,” Lipton said, taking me at my word. “Would you like some of this?” He held up a bottle and I blinked at it. It was schnapps–I’d taken it from a German couple next door, along with some kind of pastry. Apfelstrudel, they’d called it.

“I don’t really drink,” I said warily, thinking of that other night.

Lipton grinned. “Neither do I, but I figure you got this for me for a reason, right, sir?”

“The woman said it would cure you.”

Lipton held out the bottle to me expectantly, so I took a small sip. It burned going down, too sweet. I handed it back to him, and he took a sip himself, placing his mouth where mine had been. I watched his throat as he swallowed. I was so close to him, I could hear the sound his lips made as they left the bottle. “Another?” he asked.

I shook my head. I didn’t understand what was happening–maybe nothing was happening, maybe this was all perfectly ordinary–but I sure as hell wanted to remember it clearly tomorrow. Lipton took another sip, made a face, and closed the bottle, setting it down on the floor. “Have you had a lot of that?” I asked.

Lipton shrugged, loose. “Some.”

“Enough to cure you then,” I said, and he laughed.

“I guess so.”

I could feel his hip against my leg, and the room got a little brighter with the light of an explosion from a couple of blocks away, and I could only hope it hadn’t done any more damage than we’d already sustained tonight. His eyes are so soft. “I should let you sleep.”

I didn’t stand up, though. I meant to, I meant to get up and go sleep on the floor like I’d insisted I would. I was going to, any second, but I hadn’t yet when Lipton said, “You could sleep here with me.”

I try not to let my emotions show on my face, but I must have looked surprised (I was more than surprised), because Lipton added, “We’ve all slept in tighter quarters than this, in Bastogne. There’s no need for you to sleep on the floor, sir.”

And it’s true. I slept as close as I could to other men in foxholes, because otherwise we would have frozen to death. But this room had a warm fire. There was no reason to. And yet, Lipton slid to the side, making a little more room for me–there wasn’t a lot, it was a small bed–and so I…lay down.

I didn’t take off my boots, or my jacket or anything. I didn’t want to risk taking the time, in case he changed his mind. I lay on my back, but that didn’t quite work, it was too close, so I turned onto my side. I should probably have faced away from him. I didn’t.

His face was right there. I could have kissed him again (did I even kiss him, before? I’ve never been certain). He blinked at me in the darkness, but I didn’t move. Eventually, his eyes closed, but I lay there for a long time, long enough to feel him relax and curl into me. I pressed my lips to his shoulder, and I thought I felt his breath against my hair, but I couldn’t be sure.

When I woke up in the morning, he was gone.

Notes February 1945

I haven’t known what to do with myself all day. Lipton has been hard to pin down–now that he is feeling better, he is working harder than ever. Winters canceled the second patrol, but we still need to act as though it is going forward, which means the same amount of work, plus I needed to make sure Lt. Jones is squared away.

I had Liebgott and the others firing across the river, while Webster and Sgt. Martin hid in the house. By the time I got back to the CP, it was 0300.

Lipton wasn’t in the bedroom waiting for me. He was awake and working with Luz, sorting through the supply delivery. I stopped in to say goodnight and when he said goodnight back, he…well, he smiled at me. But Lipton smiles at everyone.

I don’t like this. I don’t like being uncertain.

Notes February 1945

It’s Lieutenant Lipton now, at long last. Welsh caught up with us, and he had Lipton’s bars with him. I was there when Winters pinned them on, when Lipton shook his hand. There were so many of us there–Nixon, along with Luz and Webster in the other room. Hell, even Lt. Jones was standing there. What felt like it ought to have been a close moment, something for just me and him, wasn’t, couldn’t have been, with so many men around. But of course it wasn’t just for him and me–why would it have been? I’ve only been his CO for a month. Of course he would want to share this with men he’s known for years. He’s earned that and more.

But I was impatient. I couldn’t…after spending yesterday so uncertain, I didn’t want to spend another moment that way. And we were equals now, or almost. We were both officers, at least.

So I took him by the arm and brought him into the other room. It wasn’t private, by any means–they were all still right there, Harry and Nixon drinking from Nixon’s flask, Winters watching them in that amused way he has. And we were going to be heading out soon–I’m writing this in the back of a jeep as Winters drives, in fact. But I couldn’t wait.

“Yes, sir?” he said, expectantly.

I had absolutely no idea what to say. “Um. Yes. Congratulations, Lieutenant.”

He smiled, wide and sincere, that smile that spreads so far across his face that it lifts the downturned corners of his eyes. “Thank you, sir.”

I had to think of something else, some reason to keep him here away from everyone else while I thought of a way to ask what I needed to ask him. “And you’re sure you’re feeling better? Because we could go to an aid station.”

He reached out and squeezed my arm, just below the elbow. It was a little thing, something I’d seen the men do all the time. Hell, Winters and Nixon were never not touching, it seemed. “I promise, I’m fine, sir.”

Just a little thing, but it seemed like I could feel his hand on my skin, even through my coat. No one ever really touches me. “I…” I cleared my throat. “I’m glad to hear that.” His hand slid down, so that his fingers touched the bare skin of my wrist, just resting there. From the other room, it wouldn’t have looked like anything, but it felt like everything. “Lieutenant Lipton…”

“You can call me Lip, you know, sir,” he said. “Everyone else does.”

“Lip,” I repeated, quietly. It probably came out as a whisper. I don’t think I will call him Lip, in front of other people. I think I’ll keep that close.

“Sparky!” Nixon called from the other room. “We’re moving out in an hour, think you can manage that?”

Lipton’s fingers tightened on my wrist before letting go. “Yes,” I said, without looking away from him. I heard the sounds of the other men leaving, of Winters talking to Jones, of Luz giving Webster a hard time, of Welsh and Nixon bantering back and forth. Lipton stepped back, and I felt the moment slipping away, as if this was my only chance, and if I didn’t say something right then–though I still didn’t know what I should say–I would never get another try.

So I reached out and grabbed the back of his neck. His mouth was warm and soft, tasting of coffee and stale bread. He kissed me back, and the relief in that was enough to make me dizzy.

We broke away to catch our breath, and he smiled against my mouth. “Ron,” he whispered.

We had to leave that room, then, and that house full of broken walls and rubble, to gather the men and move on to another house in another town. But he’ll call me Ron again, I believe, when we’re alone. And I’ll call him Lip. And maybe there isn’t anything else that needs to be said, for now.

#band of brothers #fanfic #hbowarsummer24 #speirton #ronald speirs #carwood lipton

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bluecapsicum · 2 years ago

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Blue hours and twilight sky illustrations for my daily meteorological fiction project, Reports From Unknown Places About Undescribable Events (Twitter, Instagram, Mastodon).

Keep reading for the companion texts.

August 18th - We report, in between two dreams (nonsense dreams, foggy images and whispers, barely more than that), the sky is coming alive before the sun has even risen. The blue light that is coming through the window is not enough to make us open our eyes all the way.

October 26th - We report, deep into the deep blue, the road shrunk into the single ray of light of our car's headlights. The sky is coming down low on the horizon, and we have not come across another car for a long time. This blue hour is turning dark.

November 4th - We report, here where the sun poured into the horizon a little while ago now, the clouds are catching lights from the city. It has been a humid day, and we know that as long as the city lights are on, the sky will remain this colour.

November 11th - We report: we saw the moon rise and disappear behind clouds. The sky has washed away. This is it for now. The sun is not going to rise from the sea, the sea is going to swallow this beach, all things will get darker still - the earth will not shake. One more night in our life.

December 1st - We report: first day of December, and we are still here under the same sky as everybody else, still moving forward even though we sometimes have trouble with directions. The birds are all leaving further South, but we have decided to stay, for now, as the sky keeps darkening.

December 14th - We report: there is hardly any hope for us to see the Geminids peak, this year, but the snow is more than enough of a consolation. We took a walk in silence. It did not snow for a very long time, and the layer of white was thin everywhere we went. Still, the country was silent.

January 18th - We report Jupiter and Saturn at nightfall today; we expect Venus to follow shortly after, although the sky might be overcast by then. It is still too bright for us to be able to see stars, but we know that the Aquarius constellation is right there, rising over the horizon.

April 4th - We report that a few owls are living around this place. They seem to be crepuscular, and they usually come out around this time. If we stay really still, we can hear them going about their business, and even see them sometimes. The sound of their howls is comfortingly unsettling.

May 14th - We report: we are on the tail end of the blue hour, when everything fades to grey. It has gotten colder since the sun set, but the whole day has been a bit windy and chilly anyway. Now, as the light becomes dimmer and dimmer, we try to take hold of the moment.

May 25th - We report: the night is only beginning to settle, and the clouds loom dark and velvet in the cold twilight. When the dim blue light weighed upon us like water, pressing everything down until we could hardly see anything anymore, everything grey - we took a slow path to sleep.

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asian-drama-tropes · 1 year ago

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A Year of Asian Drama Tropes 2024 - Wuxia Edition

A year long celebration of Asian tropes, this multi fandom event has a monthly selection of prompts for you to choose from!

The theme for 2024 is Wuxia! Rules and FAQ can be found here!

January

Riverbank

Sect/clan conflict

Blood sworn siblings

Amnesia

"When the Sandpiper and the Clam fight each other, it’s the Fisherman who benefits."

February

Go/Shogi/Xiangqi (politics optional)

Flirting through poetry/literature/music

Secret text training upgrade

Drinking under a full moon

"Heaven’s Net is wide, and none can escape its mesh."

March

Peach blossom forest (fight scene optional but likely)

Flying while flirting/fighting (is there even a difference?)

The master chef/burns water couple

Limited time left to live

"The weak are prey to the strong"

April

Big gathering (always ends badly)

Recovery from poisoning (either antidote or internal energy)

Pressure point activation for healing/bondage

Leader of the good aligned martial arts schools

"The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind."

May

Mountain pass (always an ambush)

Disguise that really shouldn't work (but somehow does)

Musical instruments as weapons

Going berserk (for revenge or protective impulses)

"Flying flowers and picking leaves can hurt people"

June

Roof (moonlit fight scene optional but likely)

Confession in the rain (bonus umbrella optional)

Revenge (bonus if intergenerational)

Aphrodisiacs

"No one is killing me but you"/ "No one is killing you but me"

July

Tavern (fight scene optional but likely)

Lovers fighting back to back

Prosaic objects as weapons

Sweeper monk

"2 jin (1.2kg) of cooked beef and a pot of alcohol"

August

Mountaintop

Falling off a cliff (assumed to be dead but actually not)

Reclusive master training upgrade

Ancestor worship

"In the world of martial arts, no technique is faultless, only speed is invincible."

September

Hidden room

Cross dressing

Soup and wound tending (go together)

Villain who has a point

"The prettier a lady, the better she is at lying."

October

Prison (always a rescue)

Coughing up blood

Sleeves as pockets

Harem politics

"The mountain is tall, the river is long, we will meet again."

November

Open windows (secret plan/confession optional but likely)

Repaying a debt (sometimes across generations/time/reincarnation)

Heartbroken alcohol consumption

Shifu

"The truth will eventually show itself."

December

Lake/mountain pool/hot spring (sex optional)

Kneeling in snow/storm as a show of penance/devotion

Gifts of hair care items as courtship

The student becomes the master

"The will of Heaven."

#asian-drama-tropes-2024 #mod speaks #prompt list #fandom event

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lovebillyhargrove · 1 year ago

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Harringrove seasons au, created by the ever-amazing @akioukun ❤️ and remaining the source of inspiration

***

All living creatures know - since summer and autumn got together, every September has been blessed with soft kind sunshine and warmth.

Steve is sitting on a strand of golden sand close to the river. The sand is missing August heat, but it's still nice to the touch. The river drifts quiet and thoughtful.

Steve runs his fingers through the sand and digs deeper.

He is watching Billy.

Billy is like a child. He disrupts the calm, the tranquility. He is wilful and petulant. Bursting with energy, lightning strikes out of a blue sky, and tears pour down in a surprise thunderstorm. One second dark clouds overcast all heavens, the next one the sun is already shining down on everything, and life itself turns glorious.

Billy is running in shallow water, right near the shore, several drops landing on Steve's brittle patches of moss.

Summer is giggling and splashing water all around. The naive little kid, still believing in miracles, still not doubting them.

Steve is watching Billy, listening to the chimes of his voice, and it makes his heart ache.

Steve is older. He knows loss. He feels the pain in his bones sometimes, when they creak like logs of an old house. He is as ancient as the time itself, and he is the season when nature wilts away and, according to the common belief, everything dies.

The belief is wrong. Nothing dies, but everything transforms.

Billy doesn't think about things like that. He gives life. He celebrates life. He enjoys it. He doesn't care because he is not made like that.

Steve appreciates it in Billy, the careless humming of this never-ceasing ardour. He knows how noiseless and cold it can get in late October, how lonely and empty it usually is in November.

Steve will sleep then and see Billy in his dreams, day after day, spent together, encounter after encounter.

Steve will be sleeping just like brown leaves, buried under the first November snow. He is well prepared for the upcoming biting cold, for it runs in his core. He also knows that the world is full of wonders, and it is only a couple of months before he will have to wake up. Unlike autumn leaves, he won't become one with earth, he will rise from his slumber

And travel.

Looking for the summer.

Travel to the other hemisphere, where his love will be awaiting him.

Where the sun is hot and the sand beckons you to leave all your troubles behind, step on it barefoot and run around, like carefree children whose laughter is innocent and embodies the spirit of summer.

Will summer be different in the other hemisphere? Yes, but it will also be the same.

It will be Billy.

Steve's love comes closer and sits on the sand beside him.

"Hey, pretty boy. Do you know what I'm unhappy about? In late June Linden trees start blooming. The smell is .. enchanting. I want you to taste it, I want your mind to stop thinking for a moment. Too bad, you can't be here in June. There is no way you can."

Billy's gaze turns sad for a second and then

"I know what I'm gonna do. I'll put the dry blossoms in the jar and save them till the time you start coming round. Yeah?"

He's taking Steve's hand, gentle and playful.

"Come walk in the water with me. Let's look at this big fish I noticed searching for a hidden spot under a log to stay for the night. Shhh," -

Billy is pressing his finger to his lips, -

"Be very quiet, autumn, I don't want to spook the fish away."

On ao3, all credit for the idea belongs to @akioukun

#harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove seasons au #autumn steve x summer billy

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ryttu3k · 2 months ago

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Interesting bit of discontinuity! The Fading and Leaffall are the more 'poetic' names for the months of Eleint and Marpenoth, with Uktar following. They correspond, more or less, to September, October, and November (check out the calendar here).

Cool, okay, except for one minor issue - the game, according to the fully dated dialogue logs, starts in Eleasis, the month before Eleint, equivalent of August (Tavias' run, for instance, ran from Eleasis 20th to Marpenoth 1st).

I wonder if they were originally intending for the game to start in Uktar 1492, then Nightal, then, potentially, Hammer 1493? If so, I suspect it got changed because that's late autumn going into winter, and that'd mean a big change to the environment, animating falling leaves and snow, possibly temperature having to be a bigger consideration, and a lot of rough terrain (I guess snow would be animated like mud and ice would be animated like grease?).

Much easier to get the game started in Eleasis, equivalent of August, late summer. Since it starts on the 20th, we could pretty easily transpose the dates marked as Uktar into Eleasis (so the tollhouse was going to be abandoned four days before the Nautiloid), the Marpenoth dates become Flamerule, and the Eleint dates become Kythorn.

That gives a bit of timespan, at least! The Elturians arrived at the Grove shortly before the 14th of Kythorn, Halsin leaves with Aradin's group some time between 2nd of Flamerule and some time in Eleasis, and his absence is recorded sometime in Eleasis. He probably hasn't been held captive for that entire time, especially since, also, Liam is actively being tortured and poor Brian is only just being eaten, and also Aradin didn't give any indication that they had been held for a long time. Maybe Aradin and co first arrived at the Grove in early Flamerule, but it took them a few weeks/a month before they were ready to leave?

(Or, they didn't actually think too hard about continuity and duration and just put down some dates, similar to the weirdness with Astarion's grave XD (Guys. Guys 268 DR was over 1,200 years earlier.) Possibly, I am overthinking this...)

It does give the fun little details that Halsin's handwriting is a 'tight scribble' and that he uses the poetic names instead of the official ones, at least!

#baldur's gate 3 #the first druid #timeline

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allhalesterekstilinski · 1 year ago

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For a show that revolves around the lunar cycle, no one did any research. It's easy to google. I know it's a fictional show where anything can happen and I think I'm the only person this really bothers, but I'm still going to complain about it.

Everything is so jumbled in this show, if I miss a full moon, let me know and I'll add my two cents.

Here is my source.

Season 1

According to TW (ATTW): The wolf moon is right after school starts for the semester. It's on a Friday.

Reality: The wolf moon was January 19th. It was a Wednesday.

ATTW: The snow moon was sometime after February 7th since that is when "Night School" took place and the full moon was in "Lunatic." February 7th was a Wednesday since the radio DJ said the school was closed Thursday and Friday and today is Monday, so the 12th.

Reality: The snow moon was February 18th. This was a Friday. February 7th was a Monday and the 12th would be Saturday.

Season 2

ATTW: There is a full moon in "Shape Shifted."

Reality: This would not be possible since there is very little space between the last and the next full moon.

ATTW: The worm moon is on Lydia's birthday.

Reality: This would make Lydia's birthday March 19th. It was a Saturday.

Season 3

ATTW: The sturgeon moon took place during "Chaos Rising" and "Fireflies."

Reality: This would have been August 13th and 14th. I have reason to believe it was August since California schools typically start then. The 13th and 14th was Saturday and Sunday, despite the fact there was school during both episodes.

ATTW: In "The Girl Who Knew Too Much" Allison says this, "So it's my fault that you've been lying to me for the past two months?" Placing the rest of 3A in October. And during "Lunar Ellipse" there was a lunar eclipse.

Reality: The hunter's moon was October 11th. The only total lunar eclipses in 2011 were in June and December. And no partial solar eclipses were in October, either.

ATTW: The news article about Malia says the accident took place on September 17, 2005.

Reality: The harvest moon was September 18th.

Season 4

ATTW: The wolf moon takes place shortly after Liam is bitten ("Muted" and "The Benefactor"). The full moon is also seen in "117" when Kate loses control at the gas station.

Reality: The wolf moon was January 9th. It was a Monday, which doesn't make sense since the previous episode (when Liam was bit) they had been at school. It could not have been in "117" and "The Benefactor." You could argue "117" wasn't the full moon and Kate was just struggling, but she has no problem shifting into the werejaguar at will in "The Divine Move."

Season 5

ATTW: Scott chains up Liam because he's having trouble with the full moon. This is also the day right before school starts.

Reality: There were two full moons in August 2012. The sturgeon moon was August 1st and was a Wednesday. Perhaps a little early for school to start, but not totally impossible. The blue moon was August 31st and was a Friday. We can likely rule this one out as the beginning of season five.

ATTW: At the end of 5A, they reference the super moon.

Reality: The only super moon in 2012 was in May.

I'm not sure when the end of 5A is, but the following full moons include Saturday September 29th, Monday October 29th, Wednesday November 28th, and Friday December 28th. I doubt 5A lasted from early August to anything later than October.

Season 6

ATTW: In "After Images" Brett and Lori die and Liam is exposed as a werewolf on the full moon.

Reality: This date is likely Tuesday August 20th.

#teen wolf #teen wolf meta #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #allison argent #derek hale #lydia martin #jackson whittemore #malia tate #liam dunbar #brett talbot #lori rohr #kate argent #isaac lahey #vernon boyd #cora hale #erica reyes #theo raeken #peter hale

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cursedbanalities · 6 days ago

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✨Sometimes, I can’t help but remember things.✨

(A Horror Story WiP)

If you knew me, you’d laugh in my face if I told you that. Despite being an extremely forgetful person, I have a knack for remembering the strangest things. Some of it is useful, like actor’s names, song titles, or credit card numbers. Then… not so much. Things that I don’t know need in my life, like old commercials (not jingles, full-on commercials) or the complete ingredient list of Cap’n Crunch cereal.

At first, this helped me out in school. I would read something and regurgitate it onto a page up to a week later. Then, my interest waned. Grades started to slip in everything that I wasn’t completely interested in. It was even worse in college, when I struggled to keep even a 2.0 grade average for my near-meaningless English degree. I couldn’t keep anything useful in my head, at least according to school and most of my significant others. Though, I finally managed to find something that worked well for me:

Pizza making!

At first I thought I was above it. Here I was, a fancy college graduate ready to change the world; I couldn’t stoop to the levels of pizza making! This may have been the only job that I had gotten a response from— most other places I sent my resume to responded almost instantly with a rejection, sure, but I know that my artistic values are wasted on a trivial task like making pizzas!

But then, something miraculous happened. I started to remember everything about my job. Our specialty pizzas, customer’s orders, specific cleaning protocols, everything. At first, I tried to fight my growing fondness of the job, pushing it deep inside me. On a particularly busy day, however, our printer went down. Despite the near constant onslaught of pizzas, I was able to remember the exact order of it all— even when ten families in a row came through our line. There was a certain rush to exceeding expectations that I grew to love, and it helped that my manager is the type of person who recognized that. He quickly promoted me to assistant manager, and we’ve been able to keep an extremely tight ship together. He’s laid back, and I’m there to help remind him and the others on what is expected to help the restaurant run better.

So, here I am. A manager at Eugene’s Pizza, finally accepting the banalities of life and diving headfirst into a pool of mediocrity. I’ve been happy, regardless. I was able to get this decently-paying job at a resort city on the coast of one of the Great Lakes. I'm accompanied by an adorable orange tabby cat, and I have a computer to accommodate my many hobbies. Besides another person to share the space with, what more could a girl want? Even when my car took a shit hard enough to cost six-month’s rent in mechanic bills, I was lucky to live close enough to my workplace to be able to walk. So, I began a daily pilgrimage to my job, walking thirty minutes to and from. With headphones, it made the walk feel like nothing. After months of doing this, I was able to almost run to the store and back without breaking a sweat. Though, months of realizing I still didn’t make enough for a car (despite the saved money on gas) weighed heavily on me. Soon, the snow will begin to fall. Either I’ll have to walk through the snow and ice– through mild snowstorms, as well– or start asking for rides and slowly lose my built ability to walk as quickly as I have.

Like a ball tossed from the top of a mountain, October rolled into November before I had a chance to search for a car; I found myself walking down a street on my way back home from work. I was the last person in the store by a couple of hours, so there was no hope of getting a ride home from any of my co-workers. Besides, I had been putting on a few extra pounds from constantly eating the food I helped make, so I felt like I needed the exercise. My feet throbbed from the day of work. It felt like every single nerve was firing off at once, complaining about the agonizing pain they’re in; or like I was bleeding and my shoes were slowly filling with blood, and every step I took was another agonizing wave of blood ready to explode out of my shoes. My sides and back shared a similar lament, with pain like daggers stabbing into my sides. The cold air didn’t help, feeling like needles puncturing my lungs. I slid a little on a bit of snow— a flurry of snow came the night before and some still clung to the sidewalk. For every moment I spent out in this cold autumn weather, the more I longed to get back home, to snuggle with my cat and drink a frothy glass of beer while watching cartoons.

But then, I rounded a corner and saw a woman standing under a street light. A man stood in front of her with his back to me, caressing her cheek. She wore a black felt pea coat and had blonde hair that shone in the yellowish light; he was in a black trench coat and a brimmed hat. It looked like something out of an old movie, like two lovers sharing a romantic embrace at the end of some cheesy 40’s romance, and I couldn’t help but let curiosity overcome me. I gazed at the scene as I walked closer to them.

As I got closer, though, my mood swiftly changed. The woman was shaking, and had a strange look of panic. I saw the man’s grip tighten around her face, nails digging into her cheeks. She yelped a little bit, and I saw her jump.

I froze in place. This was weird. I felt my stomach beginning to tie itself into knots, and I reached my bag for my pepper spray. My apartments were just another block directly past them, and with the amount of pain in my feet I wanted to get there as soon as I possibly could. Besides, if I saw him pull anything else, I’d at least either protect myself or even save a woman from having a man creep on her. I breathe in, and grip my pepper spray tight before looking back up at the woman and man.

The girl’s face was that of absolute pleasure as tentacles, sprouting from the man’s trench coat, left trails of thick, green slime on her face. Her hair was a mess as the tentacles gripped all parts of her face and neck. I blinked, not believing my eyes. The man had completely changed while I dug in my purse for a weapon. Yet, despite this horrifying change, I walked on. It was involuntary, as I was mostly trying to decipher whether what I was seeing was even real. There was an impossible amount of wriggling limbs coming out of his coat, some began to explore down her body and into any crevices they found. The wind picked up, blowing towards my face. There was a smell of rotting meat coming from them, with smells similar to the sea mixed in. The woman’s pleasure began to produce small shrieks from her, which the tentacle-man quickly resolved by flooding her mouth with his wriggling suction cups. They explored her nose and ears as well, and her face of pleasure quickly turned to that of pain and horror as the man’s tentacles began to push out through her eye sockets, wiping over her stark, blue eyes…

I let out a scream, finally snapping out of my daze. This was real. This woman was in danger. Hell, I was in danger. I started to back away, planning to run down the street and jump over some fences to get away from this nightmare. Once the man turned around and saw me, however, I froze in place. I could see his face— or rather, the thing attracted to it that resembled most like a face. I don’t know if I truly understood what I saw that night. Maybe I was dreaming or just ate some really bad food or something, but I swear to god that the only thing under that man’s coat was a writhing ball of tentacles. A dark green mass— almost black— constantly writhing and making these disgusting slapping and slurping noises. I was so in awe by what I saw, I just stood there as he kept walking towards me, his feet… or, tentacles, I guess? They kept making these horrible wet slaps with every step, like a wet, sticky noodle. He was extremely hot, too. His heat radiated off of him like coals in a fire. It made me sweat, and every step in the snow shot a steamy mist into the air. The man’s stench brought tears to my eyes, my stomach churned with every step closer to me. Under the writhing tentacles, I saw eyes. I didn’t count, but they were all an orangish-yellow and constantly kept moist by the tentacles wiping over them with their viscous, green fluids. Some of them were gray with cataracts, but the ones that weren’t were locked on to me, piercing my soul with something otherworldly. Once it got a couple of yards away from me I looked down and saw what remained of that poor, poor woman. Her eyes were gone, hell, most of her face was gone! There was a bloody red cavity where her nose and eyes should have been, her mouth still hung agape in shock. When I looked at the man-shaped mass, I could’ve sworn I saw her blue eyes somewhere in the mass of tentacles, lost in a sea of filth. I turned and booked it once I locked eyes with them. I flew down the streets in a panic, likely screaming and spouting whatever gibberish managed to work its way up my throat and out my mouth. My sanity was at its breaking point, but I was somehow able to make it back home despite myself. My lungs felt ragged, my clothes stuck to me from the sweat. The memory clung to my mind. Despite my efforts to remove myself from its claws, it kept replaying in my mind. I was finally home, but I felt anything but safe.

***

[[this is a little bit of something I wrote after a little breakdown I had. I started out just writing to get my feelings out, but I ended with this. I pictured this as an intro to the story, with a person telling this story to detectives or something. Unfortunately, I’ve never gotten any inspiration, and any attempts at furthering the plot got me no where. Hopefully this short story is enjoyable :)

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talesofedo · 1 year ago

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Edo period egoyomi (picture calendar) for Kyowa 2 (1802) picturing the monthly and seasonal needs for a small mountain village.

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More Information on Japanese Calendars and Timekeeping

See the previous post here.

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Japanese Years

Today, most of the world uses the Gregorian calendar, introduced in 1582, to track years of the common era. That calendar's era is based on years since the perceived birth of Jesus: 2023 CE (current era) or AD (anno domini, year of the lord) 2023.

Edo period Japan obviously did not use the Gregorian calendar as its own calendar-keeping was influenced by China, not the west. In fact, Japan did not adopt the Gregorian calendar until 1873 but continues to use era names into the present day.

Japan's system of era names (nengo) originates from China and was permanently adopted in 701 under Emperor Monmu. It has been continuously in use since.

Until the end of the Edo period, era names were decided by court officials and could change frequently. A new era name was usually proclaimed after the ascension of a new emperor, but could also be changed due to some auspicious event or even due to natural disasters.

Since the adoption of era names, most have been in use for fewer than 10 years, sometimes for as short a period as 2 years, and only a handful have been used for periods of more than 30 years.

This website is extremely helpful in converting Gregorian years into Japanese eras, just enter the year!

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Japanese Months

During the Edo period, the Japanese year was broken down into 12 lunar months of either 29 days (small months) or 30 days (large months) each.

Additionally, a special intercalary month (uru-zuki) had to be added every few years to keep the calendar in sync with the actual change of seasons.

In the modern Japanese calendar, the months are numbered rather than named: ichi-gatsu (first month, January), ni-gatsu (second month, February), and so on, but during the Edo period, monthly names, which date back to the Heian era, were in common use.

(Today, you might still find these old monthly names in poetry.)

Here they are with their western calendar equivalent:

January - mutsuki 睦月 February - kisaragi 如月 March -yayoi 弥生 April - uzuki 卯月 May - satsuki 皐月 June - minazuki 水無月 July - fumizuki 文月 August - hazuki 葉月 September - nagatsuki 長月 October - kannazuki 神無月 November - shimotsuki 霜月 December - shiwasu 師走

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Japanese Weeks

The western concept of breaking individual months down into 7-day weeks did not exist in Edo period Japan. However, there is a rough equivalent that corresponds to the general concept of weeks: nijushi-sekki, 24 seasonal divisions that break the year down into "weeks" of 15 days each.

They are:

Shokan (small chill) – around January 6 Daikan (big chill) – around January 20 Risshun (start of spring) – around February 4 Usui (rain water) – around February 18 Keichitsu (going-out of worms) – around March 6 Shunbun (spring equinox) – around March 21 Seimei (clear and bright) – 15 days after the spring equinox Koku-u (rain for harvests) – around April 21 Rikka (start of summer) – around May 6 Shoman (half bloom) – around May 21 Boshu (seeds of cereals) – around June 5 Geshi (reaching summer) – summer solstice – around June 21 Shohsho (small heat) – around July 7 Taisho (big heat) – hottest time of the year – around July 23 Risshu (start of autumn) – around August 8 Shosho (keeping out of the heat) – around August 23 Hakuro (white dew) – around September 7 Shubun (the autumnal equinox) – around September 23 Kanro (cold dew) – around October 8 Soko (frosting) – around October 23 Ritto (start of winter) – around November 8 Shosetsu (small snow) – around November 23 Taisetsu (big snow) – around December 8 Toji (reaching winter) – around December 22

More in-depth information about these, along with explanations of why they're called what they're called, can be found here.

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Japanese Days

Individual named days, such as Monday and Tuesday, as we know them on the western calendar, also did not exist in Edo period Japan.

You wouldn't say "We meet on Wednesday." Instead, you would have used the date, "We meet on the fifteenth day," or perhaps even the phase of the moon, "We meet on the new moon."

Individual Japanese days are also not broken down into 24 equal hours of 60 minutes each.

Instead, people in the Edo period split their days into 12 hours (toki): 6 daytime hours, which were counted from sunrise to sunset, and 6 night-time hours, which were counted from sunset to sunrise.

Naturally, the length of these hours varied not only by time of year (winter daytime hours being obviously shorter than winter nighttime hours) but also by geographical location.

Daytime hours were broken down as follows:

Hour of the Rabbit (begins at sunrise) Hour of the Dragon Hour of the Snake Hour of the Horse (noon) Hour of the Goat Hour of the Monkey

Nighttime hours were broken down as follows:

Hour of the Rooster (begins at sunset) Hour of the Dog Hour of the Pig Hour of the Rat (midnight) Hour of the Ox Hour of the Tiger

From the Seiko Museum.

#history notes #historical notes #history reference #historical reference #history research #historical research #Japanese calendar #calendars #Japanese era names #Japanese hours #are you confused yet?

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scalamore · 10 months ago

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Timeline of the Separation

I don't remember if I typed this before, but here it is again: January/February "winter" - When Lari left. Probably sometime in Jan or Feb. Still cold out, but no snow at the time. March/April/May/June "Lari has been there for more than a season" - It took some time for Lari to settle in, and find a governess job for the villager kid. She's been teaching them for a few months when she is offered the bakery job with Fernando. She works a few days a week at each job. It took Lehan a few months to figure out her location, and shortly after requested to become one of Rupert's knights as a way to atone for his betrayal. That means Rupert spent 2-3 months completely in the dark, before he found out about her diary, and then became MORE miserable. Poor guy. He easily allows Lehan to visit her... because then he could track him and eventually her (implied haha. Lari wonders why Rupert would allow him to take time off easily... was Lehan sucking up to him too? nope... its because he can see her through Lehan ^^) He then spends the next "few months" watching over her from afar, until Lehan catches him in the act in Ch 116. Lehan catches him stalking AGAIN in Ch 117, which is a few weeks later (lol). By this time, it's "Summer". June/July/August "Summer" - My personal headcanon is Rupert's birthday is in August, but it might as well be June or July. The summer months is when Ch 117 takes place. After Rupert feels safe being around her, and not losing control, he visits her almost every other day for a few weeks (which literally could range from 3 weeks to say 8 weeks or something). But it doesn't take long before he does end up hugging her, freaking himself out because there is no way he can keep his hands to himself in self restraint if she's that close to him, so he stops going in person and returns to stalking from afar ^^;. September/October/November "Autumn" - Lari thinks how she Summer and Autumn have passed, and she had no chance to celebrate Rupert's birthday. As the weather chilled, so did her heart :(. November/December/January ish "Winter" - As the weather got chilly, Lari meets Rupert again at the Market square and uncovers his identity. THey part awkwardly, but Rupert finds hope in rekindling their relationship, but continues to watch from afar. She stumbles upon him a few times, and it's pretty obvious she still has feelings for him too, but tries to hide/deny it. This goes on for a few more weeks until Fernando tramples on Lari's good faith and tricks her, causing her to get kidnapped :(. But of course Rupert anticipated that and is able to find her quickly :) "A Year had passed". Still in "Winter", Lari returns to the palace, and comments that she's returned after a year, Louis mentioned it's been a year, Lari commenting that once again she returns to see the flower buds getting ready to prepare to bloom in the spring...

#your majesty please spare me this time #rupelali #manhwa #rofan #otome isekai

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likeawolfatthemoon · 6 months ago

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okay after the ttpd season poll i just felt like typing up WHY i feel like each album corresponds to the following months, feel free to ignore~

january - speak now (the excitement of the holiday season is over so you're in a depression but you also feel like you should have hope because it's a brand new year you should be looking forward but everything feels barren and insurmountable and cold BUT DESPITE ALL THIS you remain persistent and determined and bright-eyed)

february - 1989 (it's icy slush on the city streets, a kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats under coats, the frost on the rocky coastline, high tide came and brought you in)

march - midnights (after a long winter everything is thawing out and it's just MUD. sometimes it's still icy, but you're beginning to see spots of sun. and then out of nowhere you're pulled back into the dark.)

april - fearless (fresh and young like a little bud popping out of the soil!! with you id dance in a storm in my best dress fearless!! these new beginnings (her first very very big singles) bringing what was to come in her career = april showers bring may flowers)

may - (mayhaps ts12 will fit here, the proverbial may flowers?)

june - debut (as a teenager, the fresh freedom of summer. the warm sun, open fields, fireflies, the creek beds we turned up, the moon like a spotlight on the lake, just listen to the crickets sing!!!)

july - folklore (again the nostalgia of childhood summer, and NO it's not august because august is miserable and folklore still has hope. sweet tea in the summer! your back beneath the sun! suddenly this summer it's clear! living for the hope of it all!)

august - the tortured poets department (as explained before, like trudging through the satan's asshole of emotions. it's just muggy and excruciatingly hot and you're begging for the reprieve of a summer storm. another summer taking cover, rolling thunder. and when it comes, it's WORSE, because after it's gone you're in a soup and you can't breathe and you can't do anything except wait for it to be over)

september - lover (windows flung right open autumn air jacket round my shoulders is yours!! it was a cruel summer with you!! sacred new beginnings (you'll have new septembers). i've loved you three summers now honey but I want 'em all!! - the album itself has bright summer vibes, but it takes place at the end of the summer, reminiscing on the summer)

october - red (does this even need explanation 🧣 classic fall, classic nostalgia, autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place)

november - reputation (i recall late november holding my breath slowly i said you don't need to save me??? but would you run away with me??? fall is in full gear, clean and CRISP and CLEAR. you're focused on your family and tradition (us-centric), thinking about how that applies to your future. summarizing your year. focusing on what's important and blocking out everything else.)

december - evermore (again i feel like no explanation needed. the holidays linger like bad perfume. hey december guess i'm feeling unmoored. in from the snow, your touch brought forth an incandescent glow. barefoot in the wildest winter.)

#leanne.text #taylor swift

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rurukatt · 2 years ago

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Letters to Tacitus Kilgore

Just a couple of letters Sophia sent to Arthur while she spent some time away from the gang. I did these as a little writing practice since I don’t really have the energy for much more. Enjoy~

[October 1894]

Dear Arthur,

It has been a while since I wrote a letter to anyone, and as always, I find myself not knowing what to say. So much has happened and yet barely anything worth mentioning comes to mind when I try to write.

I am doing well. The room I'm renting is nice (unlike the owner of the house, but that's a story for another time), and they're giving me a lot of work at the doctor's office, which I don't mind at all. It helps me keep my mind off things. The old doctor is a real gentleman, his son… He's insufferable, Arthur. Talks a lot and thinks himself more knowledgeable than his father, but he doesn't even know what he's talking about most of the time. The only person he's able to impress is himself, but that seems to be enough for him.

I had hoped my time with you all would be longer, but nevertheless I am grateful for what I got and I miss you every day. You, most of all, but sometimes I miss Hosea even more. Please give him my regards and thanks. Were it not for him, I wouldn't have this opportunity right now.

Yours fondly, Sophia Ashe

[November 1894]

Dear Arthur,

We had our first snow yesterday. It was a wonderful sight to wake up to, although the heavy snowfall made it difficult to get into town in time. I hope the weather is treating you well, wherever you are.

The snow also means I cannot take Sunflower for her usual morning rides anymore. I can clearly see she hasn’t been well, and now that the roads are too slippery, I don’t want to risk an injury on top of that. It pains me to see her like this, but I’m resolved to nurse her back to health. I cannot and will not lose this horse, Arthur, she’s everything to me. I promised I’d take good care of her when you gave her to me, and I intend to honor my word, even if it means sleepless nights and empty pockets.

Aside from this, I’m fine, and I hope you are as well. Please forgive me for sharing my troubles with you, I do not want you to worry about me when you doubtless have more pressing matters to attend to.

Please take care.

Sincerely yours, Sophia Ashe

[January 1895]

Dear Arthur,

I wish you and everyone in the camp a very Happy New Year!

I hope you’re well. Life here isn’t too exciting, I can’t say much has changed since I sent my last letter, except for this growing sense of loneliness. One of the girls I’m working with, Annie, is getting married soon and will be moving to another town. We’ve been getting along so well, and of course I’m happy for her and wishing her the best, but at the same time it fills me with sorrow because I will be left alone once again.

At least the days are getting longer. Inspired by you, I have taken up drawing again recently and while my artistic abilities are not on par with yours, it’s helping me get through this melancholic time of the year. I have also decided to expand my horizons and got myself an easel and some other supplies for painting, hopefully I’ll be able to put them to use soon. Enclosed are some of the newest additions of my little gallery, I hope they bring you at least a little joy. I miss seeing your smile.

Sincerely yours, Sophia

[February 1895]

My dear Arthur,

I must apologize for my delayed letter, work consumes most of my time these days and I rarely find the time to put my thoughts on the paper in a manner that’s worth reading.

Annie got married and moved away with her husband, and here I am, on my own again. Oh, what I would do to have people I can trust around me. I miss you more and more every day and I wish I heard anything from you or was given even a small sign that you’re still alive. All this silence has left me doubting the effectiveness of postal services, but it may as well be something else, I am not sure. At least this is what I keep telling myself.

I pray for your safety every day and I will not stop praying until I know all is well with you.

Your sincere friend, Sophia

P.S. Sunflower is getting better. She’s starting to resemble her old self and it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulder.

[March 1895]

My dearest Arthur,

Spring has come again, and with it, the longest winter of my life is finally over – just as I hope my time in this town is drawing to a close.

I rode out with Sunflower a couple days ago to see the first flowers in the woods. Words can hardly express what a wonderful feeling it is to witness life spring forth once more, to cherish these things that seem so mundane… the gentle breeze, the little green buds on the branches, the dewdrops on the grass. Few people can appreciate that, and I am constantly reminded that you are one of them. I would give anything to have you here by my side and watch you fill your journal with pictures of all of those small wonders nature has to offer.

My heart is aching in ways I never thought possible. The fates of my previous letters are unknown to me and I doubt you will receive this one either, yet I’m still choosing to make a fool of myself for one last time and tell you this: you will always be in my heart. Even though sometimes it felt like I was throwing myself against a stone wall, the man I saw through the cracks made up for everything. I want you to know that your friendship meant the world to me. It still does, and I regret not telling you sooner.

I keep holding out hope that I will see you again one day, whenever you decide to find your way back to me.

Forever yours, Sophia