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burningvelvet · 2 years ago

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Every Instance of Lord Byron Hating On John Keats, Listed in Chronological Order.

“No more Keats I entreat — flay him alive. If some of you don’t I must skin him myself.”

To his publisher John Murray, 12 October 1820:

“‘I’m thankful for your books dear Murray / But why not send Scott’s Monastery?’ the only book in four living volumes I would give a baioccho to see, abating the rest of the same author, and an occasional Edinburgh & Quarterly – as brief Chroniclers of the times. — Instead of this – here are John Keats’s piss a bed poetry – and three novels by God knows whom [..] Pray send me no more poetry but what is rare and decidedly good. — There is such a trash of Keats and the like upon my tables – that I am ashamed to look at them. [..] – I am in a very fierce humour at not having Scott’s Monastery. – You are too liberal in quantity and somewhat careless of the quality of your missives. – [..] No more Keats I entreat – – – flay him alive – if some of you don’t I must skin him myself. There is no bearing the drivelling idiotism of the Mankin. – – – – – [editor’s note: ‘dashes degenerate into scrawl’]”

To his publisher John Murray, 4 November 1820:

“They Support Pope I see in the Quarterly. [Let them] Continue to do so – it is a Sin & a Shame and a damnation – to think that Pope!! should require it – but he does. – – – Those miserable mountebanks of the day – the poets – disgrace themselves – and deny God – in running down Pope – the most faultless of Poets, and almost of men – – the Edinburgh praises Jack Keats or Ketch or whatever his names are; – why his is the Onanism of Poetry — something like the Pleasure an Italian fiddler extracted out of being suspended daily by a Street Walker in Drury Lane – this went on for some weeks – at last the Girl – went to get a pint of Gin – met another, chatted too long – and Cornelli was hanged outright before she returned. Such like is the trash they praise – and such will be the end of the outstretched poesy of this miserable Self-polluter of the human Mind [editor’s note: ‘untranscribable scrawl’]. W. Scott’s Monastery just arrived — many thanks for that Grand Desideratun of the last Six Months.”

Note: “onanism” refers to masturbation.

To his publisher John Murray, 9 November 1820:

“Mr. Keats whose poetry you enquire after — appears to me what I have already said; such writing is a sort of mental masturbation — he is always frigging his Imagination. I don’t mean that he is indecent, but viciously soliciting his own ideas into a state which is neither poetry nor any thing else but a Bedlam vision produced by raw pork and opium.”

Note: “frigging” was slang for masturbation.

To his publisher John Murray, 18 November 1820:

“P.S. — Of the praises of that little dirty blackguard Keates in the Edinburgh — I shall observe as Johnson did when Sheridan the actor got a pension. ‘What has he got a pension? then it is time that I should give up mine!’ — Nobody could be prouder of the praises of the Edinburgh than I was — or more alive to their censure — as I showed in English Bards and Scotch Reviewers — at present all the men they have ever praised are degraded by that insane article. — Why don't they review & praise ‘Solomon's Guide to Health’ it is better sense — and as much poetry as Johnny Keates.”

To his publisher John Murray 26 April 1821:

“Is it true – what Shelley writes me that poor John Keats died at Rome of the Quarterly Review? I am very sorry for it – though I think he took the wrong line as a poet – and was spoilt by Cockneyfying and Surburbing – and versifying Tooke’s Pantheon and Lempriere’s Dictionary. I know by experience that a savage review is Hemlock to a sucking author – and the one on me – (which produced the English Bards &c.) knocked me down – but I got up again. Instead of bursting a blood-vessel – I drank three bottles of Claret – and began an answer – finding that there was nothing in the Article for which I could lawfully knock Jeffrey on the head in an honourable way. However I would not be the person who wrote the homicidal article – for all the honour & glory in the World, – though I by no means approve of that School of Scribbling – which it treats upon.”

To Percy Shelley, 26 April 1821:

“I am very sorry to hear what you say of Keats — is it actually true? I did not think criticism had been so killing. Though I differ from you essentially in your estimate of his performances, I so much abhor all unnecessary pain, that I would rather he had been seated on the highest peak of Parnassus than have perished in such a manner. Poor fellow! though with such inordinate self-love he would probably have not been very happy. I read the review of ‘Endymion’ in the Quarterly. It was severe, — but surely not so severe as many reviews in that and other journals upon others.

I recollect the effect on me of the Edinburgh on my first poem; it was rage, and resistance, and redress — but not despondency nor despair. I grant that those are not amiable feelings; but, in this world of bustle and broil, and especially in the career of writing, a man should calculate upon his powers of resistance before he goes into the arena. ‘Expect not life from pain nor danger free, Nor deem the doom of man reversed for thee.’

You know my opinion of that second-hand school of poetry. You also know my high opinion of your own poetry, — because it is of no school. [..] I have published a pamphlet on the Pope controversy, which you will not like. Had I known that Keats was dead — or that he was alive and so sensitive — I should have omitted some remarks upon his poetry, to which I was provoked by his attack upon Pope, and my disapprobation of his own style of writing.”

To Percy Shelley, 30 July 1821:

[First page missing] “The impression of Hyperion upon my mind was – that it was the best of his works. Who is to be his editor? It is strange that Southey who attacks the reviewers so sharply in his Kirk White – calling theirs ‘the ungentle craft’ – should be perhaps the killer of Keats. Kirke White was nearly extinguished in the same way – by a paragraph or two in ‘the Monthly’ – Such inordinate sense of censure is surely incompatible with great exertion – have not all known writers been the subject thereof?”

To his publisher John Murray 30 July 1821:

“Are you aware that Shelley has written an Elegy on Keats, and accuses the Quarterly of killing him?

‘Who killed John Keats? / ‘I,’ says the Quarterly, / So savage and Tartarly; / ‘Twas one of my feats.’ / Who shot the arrow? / ‘The poet-priest Milman / (So ready to kill man), / Or Southey or Barrow.’’

You know very well that I did not approve of Keats’s poetry, or principles of poetry, or of his abuse of Pope; but, as he is dead, omit all that is said about him in any M.S.S. of mine, or publication. His Hyperion is a fine monument, and will keep his name. I do not envy the man who wrote the article; — you Review people have no more right to kill than any other footpads. However, he who would die of an article in a Review would probably have died of something else equally trivial. The same thing nearly happened to Kirke White, who died afterwards of a consumption.”

4 August 1821, to his publisher John Murray:

“You must however omit the whole of the observations against the Suburban School – they are meant against Keats and I cannot war with the dead – particularly those already killed by Criticism. Recollect to omit all that portion in any case.”

To his publisher John Murray, 7 August 1821:

“All the part about the Suburb School must be omitted – as it referred to poor Keats now slain by the Quarterly Review — [..] I have just been turning over the homicide review of J. Keats. – It is harsh certainly and contemptuous but not more so than what I recollect of the Edinburgh R. of ‘the Hours of Idleness’ in 1808. The Reviewer allows him ‘a degree of talent which deserves to be put in the right way’ ‘rays of fancy’ ‘gleams of Genius’ and ‘powers of language’. – It is harder on L. Hunt than upon Keats & professes fairly to review only one book of his poem. – Altogether – though very provoking it was hardly so bitter as to kill unless there was a morbid feeling previously in his system.”

To Thomas Moore, August 27th 1822:

“It was not a Bible that was found in Shelley's pocket, but John Keats's poems.”

From his poem Don Juan Canto Eleventh written October 1822 and published August 1823. He was going off the popular gossip shared to him by Shelley (who believed it), which was that Keats health had sharply declined due to receiving bad reviews:

“John Keats, who was killed off by one critique, / Just as he really promised something great, / If not intelligible, without Greek / Contrived to talk about the Gods of late, / Much as they might have been supposed to speak. / Poor fellow! His was an untoward fate; / ‘Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle, / Should let itself be snuffed out by an article.”

To his publisher John Murray, 25 December 1822:

“As to any community of feeling, thought, or opinion, between Leigh Hunt and me, there is little or none. We meet rarely, hardly ever; but I think him a good-principled and able man, and must do as I would be done by. I do not know what world he has lived in – but I have lived in three or four – and none of them like his Keats and Kangaroo terra incognita – Alas! poor Shelley! – how he would have laughed – had he lived, and how we used to laugh now & then – at various things – which are grave in the Suburbs. You are all mistaken about Shelley – – you do not know – how mild – how tolerant – how good he was in Society – and as perfect a Gentleman as ever crossed a drawing room; – when he liked – & where he liked. – – – – –“

The excerpts above are taken primarily from Peter Cochran’s transcriptions.

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stillwintering · 11 months ago

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All's Fair in Love and Politics (a modern Nessian AU - where Rhys is running for president)

Summary: In the ruthless arena of politics, victory demands risking everything, even one's own heart. Rhysand has his eyes on the presidency. Feyre convinces her estranged sister, Nesta, to join the political campaign. Nesta and Cassian find themselves forging an unexpected bond as the campaign intensifies. But can their budding romance survive the treacherous waters of modern political warfare?

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Roger Salier was handsome, sophisticated, and dull as dishwater.

His manners were impeccable, and he smiled at her with a disarming ease. Their conversation flowed readily -- he laughed when he was supposed to and provided segues whenever there was a lull.

He was, in every sense, the epitome of good breeding. An eligible bachelor, indeed.

Nesta was bored out of her skull.

Roger was the type of millionaire who wanted nothing, completely self-assured in his tastes. Coming here tonight was for entertainment, something to pass the time. Nesta knew quickly that Roger didn't care about the DNC or the success of any of the candidates. He didn't even care about Hybern. To men like Roger, it was impossible to conceive of other people's misfortunes outside the walled gardens of his charmed life.

After nearly twenty minutes, Roger finally offered a personal donation to the Starborn campaign -- thrown out casually like an afterthought while demuring about how he spent the summer on a 45-foot double-masted wishbone-rigged ketch. Shortly after, an eager young woman feigned an acquaintance with Nesta to join their conversation about sailing.

Tossing Azriel an apologetic glance -- he had been pulled into a larger group by Myron nearby -- Nesta quickly excused herself, relieved.

She made her way towards the bar. She needed another drink to wash down the vapidity of the last half hour.

"Can’t stomach how the sausage is made?"

The question sliced through the strum of the party around her. She knew the owner of that voice.

"Eris," she spun on her heels to face him. "I was beginning to worry I'd have to endure the night without your sparkling wit."

His grin was all sharp edges, a predator amongst sheep. "You know I can't resist you, Nesta."

"A fact I try to forget daily, thanks." Nesta rolled her eyes. "Shouldn't you be schmoozing with the rich and powerful right now? Or are you trying to see how many people you can infuriate in one evening?"

Eris's chuckle sent goosebumps over her skin. "I miss when we used to talk over the phone," he said, giving her a hug that lingered just a second too long. "Though I prefer to infuriate you in person. It's more... intimate."

Pulling back, Nesta shot him a look that could freeze boiling water. "A masochist, then. I've always wondered."

"Only for you," he quipped, unfazed. "So, what poison are we drowning our sorrows in tonight?"

She glanced at the bar, then back at him. "I was going to ask for something strong enough to make me forget this conversation, but I doubt they serve miracles here."

"Ouch, you're cutting deep tonight. Should I be worried about bleeding out?"

"Only if you bleed champagne," she said, her tone lighter now. "Then you might actually contribute something worthwhile to this party."

He leaned in, his voice low and suggestive, "Admit it, you love our little dance."

"Maybe once," she conceded. "But even the best dances come to an end."

At that, Eris seemed genuinely taken aback. He rolled his jaw as if unsure how to respond.

After a long beat, Nesta asked, "Are you consulting for the Morgenstern campaign now like everyone else in the Speaker's Office?" She steered the conversation to safer waters.

Eris studied her, amber eyes glinting dangerously. "No," he replied.

When he offered no elaboration, she tilted her head. "I'm surprised."

"Why?"

"Thesan Morgenstern is the party favorite."

Eris shrugged, a casual gesture, but his demeanor was one of cold calculation. "I'm waiting to see how the dust settles."

"Ah," Nesta smiled. "Of course."

"Do you always think so ill of me?"

Nesta met his gaze squarely. "I think you only think about yourself."

"You're still wasting your talent for the little engine that could." It was Eris’s turn to roll his eyes at her. "Is that due to altruism or a misplaced sense of patriotism?"

"Starborn is the best candidate to defeat Hybern, and you know it," she countered.

"Maybe," he considered. Then, all levity disappeared from his posture, replaced by a menacing aloofness. "Everyone has skeletons in their closets."

Nesta squinted at him, trying to see around his sharp edges. "You've been doing oppo research on Rhys," she finally concluded.

"Nothing Hybern won't also find."

"And?"

He paused, deliberating his next words. She could see him weigh the cost of the information he possessed, and she wondered if she was willing to pay the price.

Eris's gaze roamed the crowd around them, stopping on Cassian in the distance. "Do you know how many people he's killed?" Eris asked.

That was not what she expected. "W-what?" she stammered.

"I pulled his FBI file," Eris replied, his words flat, but his eyes remained trained on Cassian. "Most of it was blacked out. It is not often that I come across personnel files that are classified above the security clearance of the Speaker of the House. Your lapdog was involved in some gnarly shit in Afghanistan."

Nesta felt her breath catch. "You are looking into Cassian," she said, surprised at how small her own voice became.

"An extremely effective blunt instrument, that much is clear even though all his mission details were redacted," he sneered as his eyes narrowed. "There was an interesting report about how Rhysand and Cassian leveled an entire town by themselves to retrieve a POW. It resulted in the highest civilian death ratio of the entire war. Did you know that afterward, the locals took to calling him the Lord of Bloodshed?"

"Stop -- why are you telling me this?"

Eris's amber eyes were penetrating as he turned his attention back to her. “Don't sell yourself short, Nesta,” he replied smoothly. “You can do better than Starborn -- than him."

Nesta felt her face flush with anger. How dare he?

"Jealousy is not a good look on you, Eris," she spat.

He showed no reaction. The soft lights made his red hair glow rose gold as he carded his hand through the strands. "You are --" Before he could finish his sentence, his eyes snapped to a spot behind Nesta's left shoulder. "Speaker Beron."

"Vanserra," a gruff voice sounded behind her. "Come, I need to introduce you to someone."

Eris leaned in for a kiss goodbye. "I'll see you around," he murmured in her ear.

Nesta turned around to see Eris stalk off with the older man. Beron made no effort to acknowledge her. She watched them cross the terrace to join a group of severe-looking men, shaking their hands. Eris's movements were elegant, sure -- every bit of the cold-blooded political killer she knew in action.

Why did he tell her this? He would only give her privileged information if it served his own purposes somehow. There was something she was missing.

Nesta ordered another glass of wine at the bar and then wandered back onto the grounds towards the elm tree where she had left Cassian earlier in the evening. Mor had fluttered off somewhere, probably wooing more donors for the campaign.

Cassian was in the middle of a heated conversation with three members of the DNC leadership. He gave her a tentative smile when greeting her but continued discussing something about the fall debate schedule and campaign finances.

She slid into place smoothly beside him. His hand briefly touched hers, like a question.

Nesta didn't bother to keep up, nodding and absentmindedly contributing a comment or two when necessary. Instead, she was turning over the new information, again and again, trying to reconcile the different versions of Cassian.

The Lord of Bloodshed -- Nesta knew in her heart that it had to be true. Cassian would have been a force to be reckoned with, lethal and decisive, with lightning-fast reflexes and all ruthless grace on the battlefield.

An angel of death.

Nesta traced the rim of her glass, unable to look up at his face. She had only ever seen one person die, her mother, and it nearly destroyed her.

I was a good soldier, he had told her. How many people had he killed during the war? How many people did he watch perish in front of him, because of him?

She wondered if there was a limit, a number to the amount of death that she wouldn't be able to bear.

Cassian cast her a sidelong glance, concern in those gentle hazel eyes. He was gorgeous, silhouetted against the twinkling light -- indulgent like he had been melded from the magical possibilities of summer nights.

How could he bear it?

At the end of the evening, when his hand brushed against hers again, Nesta recoiled.

---

When Nesta arrived at her office on Monday morning, she was greeted by a large bouquet of flowers. It was a wild yet elegant display of snapdragons, tulips, and proteas in a delicate crystal vase. The arrangement was so stunning that Nesta paused to take it in before she read the card, smiling to herself.

“It looks like you made quite an impression with Roger Salier,” Feyre said appraisingly as she came into the office a few moments later.

Nesta trained her expression to neutral as she said, “Roger is making a donation to the campaign.”

She touched the flowers. Roger was not subtle.

Feyre's blue-gray eyes flickered with amusement. "You had a good time at the fundraiser?"

For a moment, Nesta didn’t know how to answer that question. Her mind was still stuck on the wounded look on Cassian's face when she had left him at the end of the night. She wanted to be open, wanted to let him in... but now she wasn’t sure if she could look into those warm hazel eyes and not see how much violence he was capable of.

The war had always existed in the abstract for her. She read and wrote about it. She had reviewed videos and photos from the frontlines when she was reporting. She knew it had been bloody, deadly, and harrowing. Intellectually, she knew the statistics and fatality reports, but it had always been far away from her day-to-day.

Cassian -- and Azriel and Rhysand -- had lived it, had been forged by it.

How did all that killing not break him? She couldn't shake the horror from her bones.

She willed herself to not glance over at Cassian's open desk on the other side of the room -- how he had left it, clean and orderly, while he was working in Raleigh, Greensboro, or wherever else the campaign needed him. He was gone for another week. But she knew if she opened her inbox right now, she would find at least three new emails from him. He always called her first thing to check in with her about logistics and media strategy. She could hear his voice -- "Good morning, sweetheart!" -- ringing clearly in her mind before she even picked up her phone.

"It was work," Nesta finally replied, refocusing her thoughts.

Feyre hesitated, watching Nesta's posture stiffen, her jaw clenching and unclenching. "I thought the society piece in the Velaris paper turned out okay," she finally said, looking nervous. "What did you think?"

"The luncheon was a huge success," Nesta reassured her softly. "You should be proud."

Feyre's answering smile was radiant. "Thank you, again, for your help with that interview."

"You are a natural, Feyre. I'd like to set you up for more interviews," Nesta returned her smile. "Rhys is lucky to have you."

She tried to infuse the words with as much sincerity as she could. It was true -- Rhys was incredibly lucky to have Feyre as his partner. She smoothed out his rough edges and tempered his bravado.

Nesta had watched the two of them work the attendees and schmooze the donors in perfect harmony at the fundraiser, charming everyone. They made for an exceedingly handsome couple.

Feyre blushed, looking away. Nesta sat down at her desk.

"Is there anything else?"

"Well," Feyre hesitated again and then barreled forward. "Nyx's birthday is coming up in September. We were thinking about having a party for him here -- in DC, at the Townhouse. I know you always send him something in the mail. But I was wondering if this year, maybe, if you are in town then, whether you would --"

Nesta reached out and put her hand on her sister's arm. "I'll be there," she said quickly.

She felt a deep well of sadness open in her chest -- she was the cause of such trepidation, that her own sister would be so nervous to make a simple personal request. Even though Nesta didn't know how to be a part of her nephew's life, it didn't mean she didn't want to try.

"Elain is planning the party. She's baking a cake," Feyre blurted out, looking truly pained. "We -- all of us would love to have you."

Nesta swallowed, a mixture of shame and guilt swirling in her gut.

"I'll be there," she repeated. And she knew she would, for Nyx.

---

"You're avoiding me." Gwyn's voice was irate.

Nesta grimaced. "I didn't mean to."

On the last Thursday of August, Nesta cleared her schedule for dinner and drinks with her two best friends. Gwyn and Emerie had even made the trip to Capitol Hill since Nesta couldn't go far from the office. She had appointments all day with barely any break time in between. Gwyn had traveled to DC to meet with other women's advocacy groups during the day.

Now that the summer was coming to an end, the campaign was starting up in earnest. The fall meant the first round of debates. Then, the Iowa Caucus was right around the corner -- the middle of January. The remaining primaries fell in quick succession after that. Nesta suspected that by next March, they would know the party's nominee. It was shaping up to be a two-man race between Morgenstern and Starborn.

They were hurtling quickly towards the real storm ahead: the general election against Hybern. The coming months would fly by.

"Work has been insane," Nesta tried to explain. "Morgenstern has the edge on us with both media coverage and fundraising. We are trying to reach a new demographic, but our social media strategy needs to be overhauled and --"

Emerie was not impressed. "Yes, yes, we know the campaign is important." She waved her hand dismissively. "You always get like this when you're overwhelmed. But this time it feels different from your usual workaholism. "

Emerie was dressed head to toe in black. Her silk shirt was cut asymmetrically in a modern, almost architectural style. Nesta always admired Emerie's ability to pull off the most daring designs. She also admired Emerie's ability to cut through any and all bullshit.

Gwyn reached out and touched Nesta's forearm. "Just talk to us."

Nesta sighed into her cocktail. She wasn't avoiding her friends. She just hadn't decided how she felt herself.

"I didn't expect how difficult it was going to be, working with my sisters," she finally offered.

Gwyn regarded her over her own cocktail, her bright teal eyes bright and open. "Have you talked about what happened?"

Nesta shook her head. "I can't."

There was a weight against her chest -- the past crashing into the present. She could smell the antiseptic of hospital rooms in her nostrils. She had diminished all her anger and grief to an abstraction, forced it all back into the recesses of her memories where it sat inchoate and simmering.

Nesta had watched her own mother die, hooked up to tubes and wires; the cancer had wasted her body away -- she had decided to stop eating and drinking. It took ten days. Then she couldn't bear to do it again when her father asked for her at the end. What kind of daughter was she who refused to go to her own father's deathbed? What kind of sister was she who disappeared for years?

She couldn't bear it.

The depth of her shame had already swallowed her heart whole.

Gwyn didn't look away, as if she knew everything Nesta wanted to voice, everything she failed to do, and still didn't find all her shortcomings reprehensible.

Gwyn and Emerie knew, and they were still here. Nesta couldn't put into words how much that meant.

"Your sisters will understand," Emerie hummed.

Nesta downed her drink, pushing down the tidal wave of all that she couldn't allow herself to feel.

"Let's talk about something else."

---

Gwyn missed her train back to New York.

At the night's end, the three of them piled into a taxi -- drunk and giggling. Nesta was giddy with fondness for her friends. They always had a way of picking up exactly where they had left off.

"Come on, Berdara. You're going home with me!" Nesta announced as the taxi pulled up to her Art Deco apartment building.

Emerie protested, but Nesta was already dragging Gwyn out of the backseat.

"Leave me to fend for myself, why don't you." Emerie pouted.

Gwyn wobbled, laughing. "Text when you get home!" She hiccuped, her face red in the car window.

Nesta threw her arms around Gwyn's waist as they entered her building. The taxi sped off towards Emerie's house on the other side of the city.

They fell into Nesta's bed, and neither bothered to undress. They were a tipsy tangle of limbs and wild hair. It was familiar and absurd, like they were back in college again -- twenty years old and didn't know better -- stumbling back to their shared dorm after a long night partying.

Gwyn's body was warm against her as they fell asleep. Nesta couldn't remember the last time she had someone in her bed.

---

Nesta saw Gwyn off early the next day at the train station. Gwyn had to call into work sick for the morning, but the train should get her back into Manhattan on time for her afternoon appointments.

They both had wakened to pounding headaches and roiling stomaches. "I'm never drinking again," Gwyn had groaned.

"We are too old for this," Nesta had agreed miserably.

Then, Gwyn gave Nesta a bone-crushing hug goodbye at Washington Union Station.

"I see you, Nesta, and I still love you." Her parting words.

Nesta blinked back the sting in her eyes as Gwyn vanished into the throng of commuters.

---

"Miss Nesta Archeron, are you hungover?"

Cassian watched her jump upon seeing him leaning against her desk in the office.

She stared at him for a long minute as if determining whether he was really there -- it was early enough that no one else had arrived yet. He hadn't told her he had decided to return to DC before the end of the month. It was meant to be a surprise, and she was indeed surprised.

She blinked at him -- it was adorable. "Too loud," she finally grumbled, rubbing her temples.

"Tsk, tsk, indulging on a school night, were we?" he chided, grinning wide.

She huffed and dropped into her chair, resigned to the fact that he was really there.

Cassian scanned her over. Nesta was always put together, and today was no exception. She wore a tailored navy shift dress that tastefully hugged all her curves. Her makeup was natural and precise, but Cassian could see the fatigue from the previous night peeking through.

She leaned back in her seat, eyes weary and tired, waiting for him to continue. The way she looked up at him through her lashes was so devastating that Cassian felt all thoughts in his mind empty until nothing was left but her piercing gaze -- like he could only exist under that intent gaze.

For weeks, all Cassian wanted to do was see her in person, not just exchange messages and phone calls. Things had felt off ever since they parted at the Hewn fundraiser earlier in August. One moment, he was practically pressing his face against hers in the soft twinkling lights -- God, she smelled incredible -- and the next, she was avoiding him.

Their relationship felt like a pendulum, swinging close then away.

"Tell me about your big night out on the town?" he prompted.

She propped her elbows on the desk and massaged her temples. "Girls night," replied Nesta. "Please go away."

Cassian softened immediately. "What do you need, Nes?" he asked. "More tea? Maybe something greasy? Or is the hair of the dog more your style?"

Nesta shot him a narrow glance. "Is silence an option on the menu?" she countered.

"Silence and me? We're hardly acquainted," Cassian retorted with a smirk, pushing himself off her desk.

"Maybe it's time you introduced yourself to it." She did look genuinely miserable.

Cassian poured her a glass of water. "Here," he said, placing it in front of her and looking at his watch. "I'll get you more tea and breakfast after this morning's meeting."

The main door swung open as if on cue to reveal Amren, Azriel, and Rhysand. They were in the middle of an animated discussion, but all three stopped in their tracks when they noticed Nesta and Cassian.

"Cass!" Rhysand exclaimed, his face lit up.

Both Azriel and Rhys swung their arms around either side of Cassian's shoulders. Cassian laughed, letting himself settle into the joy of his brothers' company.

Amren cut through the reunion with a sharp look toward Nesta. "You look a little worse for wear," she commented dryly, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Nesta.

"Eventful night?" Azriel asked, his tone light but smug as he glanced meaningfully between Cassian and Nesta.

Nesta sunk back further into her seat.

"This one is hungover," said Cassian with a dry laugh. "And don't look at me -- for once, I had nothing to do with it."

Amren rolled her eyes. She walked purposefully towards Rhysand's inner office, ready to start their morning team meeting. She gestured for the group to follow her.

Never one for beating around the bush, Amren announced over her shoulder, “Let’s beat Thesan fucking Morgenstern.”

#nesta x cassian #nessian #fanfic #a court of silver flames #cassian #nesta archeron #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #acotar #nesta #all's fair in love and politcs #political au #nesta and cassian #archive of our own #nesta and cassian are working on a political campaign

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findroleplay · 2 years ago

Note

I'm on the search for some fandom roleplays.

Please be 21+ to interact!

21+. She/Her. EST (GMT-5). I like to write on Discord or through Tumblr messages. I like to stick to Tumblr for plotting. I write in third person, past tense and around 2-4 paragraphs. I can't guarantee daily replies, but I do try to get them out as soon as I can, which is usually within 2-3 days. I like communicative writing partners who can generally match that reply time.

I'm only looking for canon x canon pairings and am open to MxM, MxF, and FxF (in order of preference). I don't write with people who only write MxF. Please be open to at least two of those because I like to have a max amount of ships to discuss. I like canon and canon divergent plots the most. No AUs that are way out there/not set in the canon universe. I lean towards romantic pairings and writing smut. I'm okay with just "fading to black," if that's how you like to do things.

I'm only going to be listing the characters I'm most interested in writing as right now. I have my favorite ships but am open to discussing doing just about anything. I can also write more characters than those listed so feel free to bring others up.

Doctor Who: Eleventh Doctor, Fifth Doctor, Fourteenth Doctor, Sixth Doctor, Tenth Doctor

Fantastic Beasts Franchise: Albus Dumbledore, Theseus Scamander

Game of Thrones: Alliser Thorne, Daenerys Targaryen, Jaime Lannister, Margaery Tyrell, Roose Bolton, Stannis Baratheon

Grand Theft Auto IV: Dimitri Rascalov, Francis McReary, Gerry McReary, Niko Bellic, Ray Boccino

Grand Theft Auto V: Steve Haines

Harry Potter Franchise: Barty Crouch Jr., Cedric Diggory, Cormac McLaggen, Gilderoy Lockhart, Oliver Wood, Severus Snape

Marvel/Marvel Cinematic Universe: Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes, Harry Osborn (from the Tobey movies), Helmut Zemo, Loki Laufeyson, Nathan Summers, Norman Osborn (from the Tobey movies), Peter Parker (Peter 3/Andrew!Peter only), Piotr Rasputin, Quentin Beck, Tony Stark, Wade Wilson

Supernatural: Arthur Ketch, Azazel, Chuck Shurley, Dean Winchester, Lucifer, Mick Davies

The Walking Dead: Beth Greene, Gareth, Merle Dixon, Paul Rovia, Shane Walsh

If you'd like to do something, please like this post and I'll get to you ASAP.

#rp #roleplay #doctor who rp #fantastic beasts rp #game of thrones rp #grand theft auto IV rp #grand theft auto V rp #harry potter rp #marvel cinematic universe rp #supernatural rp #the walking dead rp

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findyourrp · 1 year ago

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21+. She/Her. Looking to get some threads going for my four-ish biggest fandoms right now. 👻

About Me: I like to plot on Tumblr and don't hand out my Discord until I know we'll be doing something together. I write in third person, past tense and usually ~2-4 paragraphs. I can't reply daily because of work and just a general busy RL. I try my hardest to get replies out within 2-3 days. I don't double and have no triggers but that doesn't mean I'm willing to do everything.

What I'm Looking For: Mostly romantic ships with a healthy dose of plot and some NSFW/smut. I'm willing to forgo both of those but I'm really interested in them. Canon x canon ships or canon x OC (although, I am a bit picky with OCs so don't be offended if I turn your OC down). MxM preference but can do MxF and FxF.

Please be 21+ to interact and communicative!!!

I'll just be listing my main muses for each fandom. I have plenty of favorite ships, but I'm willing to discuss doing just about anything.

Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon: Alliser Thorne, Beric Dondarrion, Daemon Targaryen, Daenerys Targaryen, Gerion Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Lyn Corbray, Margaery Tyrell, Otto Hightower, Petyr Baelish, Robb Stark, Roose Bolton, Stannis Baratheon, Thoros, Tywin

Marvel: Benjamin Poindexter, Billy Russo, Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes, Carol Danvers, Eddie Brock, Frank Castle, James!Harry Osborne, Loki Laufeyson, Nathan Summers, Willem!Norman Osborn, Andrew!Peter Parker, Ray Nadeem, Tony Stark, Wade Wilson

Supernatural: Alastair, Arthur Ketch, Azazel, Balthazar, Benny Lafitte, Chuck Shurley, Crowley, Dean Winchester, Gadreel, Lucifer, Metatron, Mick Davies

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Charlie Hewitt Jr., Drayton Sawyer, Johnny Sawyer, Nubbins Sawyer

If you would like to work something out, I do highly prefer that you message me. My last account got shadowbanned (and never fixed by Tumblr) because of the whole messaging too many people first thing. If you really don't want to message me first, I'll reach out to you. It'll take a lot longer, though, because I won't be sending more than one or two first messages a day now.

#rp finder #18+ rp #fandom rp #fandom roleplay #tcm rp #supernatural rp #marvel rp #got rp

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roleplayfinder · 1 year ago

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21+. She/Her. Looking to get some threads going for my four-ish biggest fandoms right now.

Please be 21+ to interact and communicative!!!

I'll just be listing my main muses for each fandom. I have plenty of favorite ships, but I'm willing to discuss doing just about anything.

Supernatural: Alastair, Arthur Ketch, Azazel, Balthazar, Benny Lafitte, Chuck Shurley, Crowley, Dean Winchester, Gadreel, Lucifer, Metatron, Mick Davies

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Charlie Hewitt Jr., Drayton Sawyer, Johnny Sawyer, Nubbins Sawyer

#twenty-one and over #got #got roleplay #got rp #hotd #hotd roleplay #hotd rp #marvel #marvel roleplay #marvel rp #supernatural #texas chainsaw massacre

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calritchie21 · 1 year ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/kniesylenny/739820550209306624/abby-and-reese-love-spending-time-together-just

It a good way for them to spend time together and ketch up.

yes

once a week or twice

but always get starbucks together daily if can

#anderson sisters

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pikichavez2022 · 1 year ago

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Witchtober 2023 Día 25: Ojos👁

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pocketdemonbendy · 1 year ago

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Rough sketch of chapter 7

Snip of the story: chapter 7 https://archiveofourown.org/works/43693807/chapters/109870999

Slap~

The pian in his cheek registered long before Tonie realized he'd been struck by Leo. Leo marched out of the room with Donnie hot on his heels calling out for him to wait. Tonie's breath quickened before he released a guttural Roar that rang throughout the lair. He flexed his claws in and out pricking the pads of his hands. All he wanted to do was go after Leo, sink his claws in to him, make him suffer and then kill him. Just when he thought he was going to lose it he was knocked off his feet. Landing on his back he rolled onto all fours hissing.

Raph was standing across from him his sai out in defense. "Here kitty kitty." Raph growled a teasing grin on his face.

Tonie pounced instantly claws out ready to sink them into Raph's scales. Raph ducked under him then jumped over him as Tonie pounced again. Raph went in for a jab but Tonie met him with a momentum that he wasn't expecting, knocking Raph back onto his own back. Raph pushed him off and then brought both of his fists down onto Tonie. Tonie scratched at Raphs shoulder climbing out from underneath him and onto Rap's back. Tonie wrapped an arm around Raph's neck digging his claws into Raph's skin. Searing pain shot through Raph's left shoulder, he quickly pulled Tonie off him tossing him across the room then fell to the ground.

Tonie landed with a thud and tried to push himself to his feet but stopped at the taste of blood in his mouth. Looking over to Raph, he could see the blood dripping down from clear holes left in Raph's shoulder from his tusks. Shit Tonie huffed. He had bit him. The two of them stay laying on the ground trying to ketch their breath.

"You fight like this with Tat~ your brother." Raph breathed running his fingers over the bite mark.

Tonie raised his head looking Raph in the eye. "I used to, not anymore." He growled sitting up on his knees his hands and body shaking. He'd never admit it to the snapper but Raph could do some damage. "I got tired of it."

"So what you decided to fuck his life up?" Raph hissed looking around for something he could use to put pressured on the bleeding.

"I just wanted to knock him off the pedestal he perched himself up on." Tonie looked to his side seeing a roll of fabric wrap. He took it and tossed it hitting Raph in the head.

Raph growled at him but took the wrap. "You let your anger get the best of you?"

"Yea." Tonie said dryly pushing himself to his feet wincing at the pain.

"So what exactly did you do?" Raph applied the bandage to his shoulder hissing at the sting.

Tonie sighed walking over to him and placing his hand on Raph's shoulder. His palm glowing red. "The males in my species can be honored or disowned over losing a tusk in battle." He began feeling the sting from Raph's wound. "If you lose a tusk and win the battle your a hero. On the other hand if you lose a tusk and the battle, your a disgrace."

"Okay what's that have to do with Tatuini and you?" Rah asked through clenched teeth feeling the searing pain again.

"Tatuini lost his tusk and the battle. Judas disowned him shortly after. Tatuini went from loving, wealthy family to being the newest bane of Judas's existence." Tonie slumped down next to Raph resting against him.

Raph looked over his arm seeing the scratches and the bite was gone. "How's that your fault? You cause the fight?"

"No...I'm the one who ripped out his tusk." Tonie was sullen unable to meet Raph's eyes fearing he would only see judgment in them. "We used to spar on a daily, but this one was different. It started out normal but then escalated. He pushed some buttons and I lost it. Next thing I know I was holding is tusk and he was broken and bleeding out on the pavement half dead."

They were both quiet till Raph raised his arm over Tonie and hooking him to his side. "Why are you taking all the blame for yourself then. Sounds to me like he was asking for it. Maybe not to that extent but he was still looking for a fight."

Tonie pushed Raph's arm away leaning back to glare at him. "If you were the reason your father disowned and threatened to kill one of your brothers, how would you feel? Especially if there wasn't a way to fix it?"

At the thought of that Raph's gut twisted in guilt. "I probably wouldn't forgive myself."

Tonie released another heavy sigh before, to Raph's surprise snuggled back under Raph's arm. "Neither can I." Tonie hummed a growl laying completely down resting his head and chest on Rahp's leg, his arms folded and tucked under his neck.

Raph not knowing what else to do rested his hand on Tonie's shell rubbing back and forth. Tonie wasn't a bad guy he was just angry. Raph thought looking him over.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt oc #rottmntoc

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vickiabelson · 5 months ago

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Today on STSWV, we're back! Marilyn makes me think of Kennedy which makes me think of... tomorrow - let's hold each others' hands and breathe! New York! Food! Theatre! Friends! Birthday! So much ketching up to do. Can't wait. Missed ya! So did Ru!

Shooting The Shit With Vicki

Monday, November 4, 2024

Streaming Live @5 PM PT on my FB

Daily by Toni Vincent & Peter and Paul

#comedy #Podcast #talk #talkshow #shootingtheshitwithvicki #Live #streaming #Election #electionday #NewYorkCity #foodie #Theatre #Broadway #freinds

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tinaketchauthor · 7 months ago

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Cognitive Changes in Middle Age: Strategies for Keeping Your Mind Sharp

As we enter middle age, many of us experience various cognitive changes. While some of these changes are natural and expected, understanding them and adopting strategies to maintain cognitive health can help us stay mentally sharp and engaged. Drawing from Tina Ketch’s What It Means to Experience Life, we’ll explore these cognitive changes and offer practical tips for preserving and enhancing mental function.

Understanding Cognitive Changes

During middle age, cognitive function can be influenced by several factors, including:

Memory: It’s common to notice slight declines in memory, such as occasional forgetfulness or difficulty recalling information quickly. This can be attributed to changes in the brain’s structure and function.

Attention and Processing Speed: You might find it harder to concentrate for extended periods or process information as quickly as before. This is often due to slower cognitive processing speeds and a reduced ability to multitask.

Problem-Solving and Executive Function: Some individuals may experience challenges with complex problem-solving and executive functions, such as planning and decision-making.

Wisdom and Experience: On a positive note, middle age can bring enhanced wisdom, better judgment, and improved decision-making skills due to accumulated life experiences.

Strategies for Preserving Cognitive Function

Engage in Regular Mental Exercise

Puzzles and Games: Activities like crosswords, sudoku, and brain games stimulate cognitive function and can improve problem-solving skills.

Learning New Skills: Pursuing new hobbies or learning a new language or musical instrument challenges the brain and promotes neuroplasticity.

Maintain a Healthy Lifestyle

Balanced Diet: Eat a diet rich in antioxidants, omega-3 fatty acids, and essential vitamins. Foods like berries, fish, nuts, and leafy greens support brain health.

Regular Exercise: Physical activity increases blood flow to the brain and has been shown to improve cognitive function. Aim for at least 150 minutes of moderate aerobic activity per week.

Prioritize Social Interaction

Stay Connected: Engage in meaningful conversations and maintain social relationships. Social interaction provides cognitive stimulation and emotional support, both of which are beneficial for mental health.

Participate in Group Activities: Join clubs, volunteer groups, or social organizations to stay active and involved in community activities.

Implement Organizational Tools

Calendars and Reminders: Use calendars, to-do lists, and reminders to help manage daily tasks and responsibilities. These tools can assist in keeping track of important information and deadlines.

Routine: Establishing and maintaining a consistent routine can help reduce cognitive load and improve efficiency in daily tasks.

Prioritize Mental Health

Stress Management: Practice relaxation techniques such as mindfulness, meditation, or deep-breathing exercises to manage stress. Chronic stress can negatively impact cognitive function.

Seek Support: Don’t hesitate to seek professional help if you experience persistent mood changes, anxiety, or depression. Mental health is closely linked to cognitive health.

Get Adequate Sleep

Quality Rest: Aim for 7-9 hours of quality sleep each night. Sleep is crucial for cognitive function, memory consolidation, and overall brain health.

Sleep Hygiene: Establish a regular sleep schedule, create a relaxing bedtime routine, and minimize exposure to screens before bed.

Challenge Your Brain

Diverse Activities: Engage in a variety of cognitive activities to stimulate different areas of the brain. Reading, writing, and problem-solving tasks can all contribute to mental sharpness.

Mindfulness Practices: Incorporate mindfulness and meditation practices to enhance focus, attention, and overall cognitive resilience.

Embracing Cognitive Growth

Cognitive changes in middle age are a natural part of aging, but they don’t have to be a source of concern. By implementing these strategies, individuals can proactively maintain and enhance their cognitive function. Tina Ketch’s What It Means to Experience Life highlights the importance of embracing life’s transitions and finding fulfillment through mindful engagement and self-care.

Maintaining cognitive health is not only about addressing changes but also about embracing opportunities for growth and learning. By staying active, connected, and engaged, you can support your cognitive function and enjoy a vibrant, fulfilling middle age.

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