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luckybunny555 · 1 year ago

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Secret admirer

You've been receiving strange letters, but they were so sweet and lovely you just assumed someone was too shy to talk to you in person. As you keep entertaining this sweet, secret admirer, you find yourself caught in a dangerous web.

Amber Freeman x GN!/Fem!Reader(no pronouns but for sapphics)

Warnings: creepy behavior, stalking, cursing, if you have trust issues this might be a little "scary"(I'm paranoid so I felt I should put this warning, but writing this didn't make me paranoid so idk), I think that's all

a/n: This is part 1. I'm being fucking delusional here and ignoring all the red flags. No bad ending, alright, I'm not angsty like that

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You never expected something so sweet and innocent to be, actually, very fucked up. But you also never expected to like it, so I guess it wasn't so bad after all, right?

You assume it all started once a mysterious envelope fell to the floor when you opened your school locker. You were late and rushing, quickly grabbing whatever it was and shoving it between your notebooks, not giving it much thought. Maybe you just had forgotten that you put it there, something like that.

When you got home that day, one of your friends asked for a picture of your notes from that class, which reminded you of its existence once you opened the notebook. After sending the picture, you walked over to your bed, sitting with your legs crossed as you observed the envelope carefully, unsure of its content and origin. You checked the front and the back, but found no identifications, only the lovely heart sticker that kept it sealed. You wondered if there would be a signature inside or, if it was a letter, you might've been able to recognize the caligraphy. So, carefully and curiously, you opened it.

What you found surprised you at first. It was a letter, but it seemed... off. Your heartbeats quickened slightly once your eyes met the magazine cut-out letters, making it look like some sort of ransom note. Ignoring the almost audible palpitations of your heart, you started reading the letter. It was curious, and strange, definetely unusual. But it wasn't threatening. And as you read it, it was a relief that it sounded more like a love letter than a ransom note, which gradually steadied your heartbeats.

The correspondent was surely in love with you, and that was clear by the way they wrote about you. So beautifully and genuinely. You were able to tell how attentive and infatuated they were, when they mentioned small details they liked about you, or moments they found you endearing, even if from afar. There was an additional note by the end, written: "PS: if you'd like to write me back, leave a letter between the pages of your favorite book in the library(I've seen how many times you borrow it, I love that book too)". And at the bottom, the closest thing you found from a signature or identification was "- your secret admirer," still in cut-out letters.

When you snapped back to reality, the warmth of your cheeks invaded your senses, and you finally noticed the hint of a smile on your face. Of course, the letter was still strange, and any rational person would throw it away, not entertain it, and if things got worse, go to the police. But in the moment, you were blinded by the flattery. Sure, you knew of some people who find you attractive, but this was beyond superficial attraction. The way the correspondent wrote about you made it evident they weren't attracted simply by your appearance, although your beauty was undeniable. The attention to the details, the specific compliments on your adorable habit of petting every stray dog or cat you find, how you're so kind and always give compliments to strangers, how lovely and heart-warming was your laugh, how you bit your lip when you were really concentrated, or how you brightly smiled at anyone who talked to you. No, you were convinced this wasn't just someone trying to get into your pants. And the idea of someone being so in love with you? You could already feel giggles and butterflies appearing in your belly.

That's how your secret correspondence started. You replied to the first letter, left it in the book as they asked, and just a few days later, there was another envelope in your locker. You never caught the deliverer, but the mystery added to the thrill. Who could this secret admirer possibly be?

You suspected that you had already talked to them, given their compliments on your voice, your laughter, your kindness, your sweetness. But you didn't have enough clues to guess. That's when you decided to ask them more questions about them. "Would you like to meet sometime?" "What do you look like?" "Have we met in person?" "What are your favorite movies?"

But your secret admirer only kept you guessing. They revealed very little about themselves, playfully teasing you for your curiosity every time you pressed to meet them. You didn't entirely mind their hidden identity, though. There was a thrill in not knowing who you were talking to. And by now, it was easy to ignore the part of your brain that alerted you of the dangers of not knowing a thing about your correspondent'sidentity. You were too caught up in the fantasy to consider the dangers. Besides, they were so sweet to you, how could they be harmful?

You should've seen the red flags. They should've scared you off instead of turning you on.

The letters started getting more intense, more obviously creepy. You knew they were stalking you. You knew they observed you at school, and sometimes in other places. You knew they were jealous of you, hated to see you laughing at another person's joke or hugging one of your friends. You knew they wanted you all for themselves. But still, that wasn't enough for you to cut them off.

Why? Well, besides your (terrible) taste for people with red flags, they also were so nice to you. Not only did you receive letters, but they also started sending you gifts. Sometimes a cute bracelet or necklace, an adorable stuffed animal(you told them about your prized collection), something related to your favorite movies or shows. You weren't necessarily materialistic, but the gifts were so thoughtful and attentive, how could you not fall for your admirer even more? And when you needed something, it was quickly provided for you. You weren't sure how, but they always knew when you forgot an item you needed, or when you were craving something for a while, somehow these things would appear to you.

Maybe that's when you started thinking more rationally. It started feeling slightly weird that someone you didn't know knew so much about you that whatever thing you didn't notice, they did. I mean, how could anyone else know you forgot your notebook at school, or that you had been craving your favorite snack all week? The only person this close to you was your best friend, Amber, but come on, she was your best friend. And of course, you didn't entertain this thought for long. It was more probable that you had a creepy stalker. Which was a problem, because now you had your admirer and Ghostface to worry about.

So, you decided it was better to ignore them. You stopped reading the letters, keeping them all sealed in a box under your bed. You stopped sending letters. And the best safety measure you could think of was to confide in your best friend.

You had invited Amber to come over after school. And now the two of you were in your bed, a movie playing on your TV but neither of you watching it. You were lying on your belly on the opposite side of your bed, and you looked over your shoulder to meet Amber's gaze, who was lying with her head on your pillow, her legs resting on your back.

"Can I tell you something?" You ask, already knowing the answer. She was your best friend for a reason.

"Duh," she replies without taking her eyes off her phone. But she meets your gaze once you shift your position, sitting on your knees to face her. Her attention is fully yours now.

"I've been receiving letters from a secret admirer..." you start, and you can't fight the small smile forming in your face, despite your concern about the situation. "For a while now. But they got kinda creepy and now I'm worried."

She leans closer to you, putting her hand on your leg. "Wait, seriously? Are you okay?" She asks, clearly worried about you. You expected that. Knowing her for so long, it was obvious to you how protective and caring she was.

"Yeah, at least for now," you chuckle, but her concerned expression doesn't fade. "I stopped writing to them, and I'm ignoring their letters. Hopefully they'll notice soon and leave me alone. I just... don't want them to hurt me, y'know? Like if I stop answering them, and they come up to me..." You don't finish the sentence, dreading the consequences of that scenario.

"Hey, don't worry, [name]," Amber reassures you, her grip tightening slightly to comfort you. "I'm not letting anyone hurt you," her voice is gentle and soothing, reminding you of how lucky you were to have her in your life.

You really valued her friendship. She was so caring, you had no doubt of her devotion to you. You knew how much she loved you. She always worried about the people you hung out with, always kept an eye on you to make sure you're safe and comfortable, and wherever you went, she followed. Whether it was at parties, or school, or on your walk home, you knew you had her to protect you. She had always been like that. And you loved it.

Maybe that's why you suspected her when questioning your admirer's identity. Or what attracted you to them. Something you liked in her and found in them too. Which is why you were able to let go of them. You thought you'd miss them, and wouldn't resist the urge to write them back. But you had her, and you realized that in time. I mean, did you notice the way she got all worried and protective over you after you told her about the letters?

Oh, you started noticing too much. And you started falling for her.

What a classic, falling in love with your best friend. But who could blame you? She was perfect for you. Sweet, caring, protective, a bit possessive and jealous, but everyone has flaws. And you needed a source of protection and reassurance. Your friend had just been attacked, her sister too, and a guy(who creeped you out, by the way) was murdered. It was scaring the shit out of you. You needed Amber. And she liked that.

The Ghostface attacks made you paranoid. You could barely sleep, you were easily startled, you didn't answer any calls from unidentified numbers in fear it was Ghostface. You wanted to disappear until this mess was over, but life went on.

Amber, as attentive as she always is, quickly noticed the effect these attacks had on you. And her support never changed. You felt safe with her, even when you knew you would still be a target, with or without her company. She had this invincible aura, at least to you, that made you think no one would ever mess with her. And if you had her, no one would lay a hand on you. That logic had always worked, because no weird guys came up to you, and if people flirted with you and got too friendly, she would cut them off in a second. You had nothing to worry about.

That's what gave you the courage to keep living as if everything was normal, at least most of the time. If you weren't around her, you were texting her, or facetiming her. You got even closer to her than you already were. And your poor heart had to deal with that. Your feelings for her, that you tried to ignore for the sake of your friendship, were bubbling up. You started thinking the butterflies you felt in your stomach had started living in there.

[...]

#scream #scream 5 #scream v #scream x reader #scream 5 x reader #amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x y/n

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dear-ao3 · 2 years ago

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how i met my boyfriend - the designer axe story

as promised, since we have both now graduated the statute of limitations has expired on this story and i can now share it all with you.

some notes: ra is resident assistant and this story occurred in august of 2021. i wrote this all out the day after it happened almost 2 years ago. we did not actually start dating until october 2021 after we both realized we were in love with eachother. yes, we are still together as of may 2023.

without any further ados, the much anticipated designer axe story.

so part of RA training is that we have to make door decorations and bulletin boards for our halls and buildings. i had finished my door decks at 1 am sunday morning and the bulletin boards weren't due until 9 am monday morning. so i had all of sunday to work on it.

my building has no less than seven bulletin boards per floor and an additional 4 on the entrance floor. i dont know who the hell built this building but we need to have a serious talk about when too many bulletin boards is too many fucking bulletin boards.

so i was in charge of three on my floor. one about me, one covid policies and one sloth (his name is sam and i love him). and i am a chronic procrastinator. so i finished my about me and got through about 95% of my covid one by like 9pm and had to go back to the res life office to cut out a few more letters and get some scrapbook paper.

at this point its probably important to know that the only people on campus at this point were the RAs, some students getting mentoring training, and a few random first years here for an early arrival program. plus some staff.

now, i need you all to understand that there are 42 RAs. all of us have the same deadline. all of us had between 2 and 5 bulletin boards to complete. plus door decks. and room condition reports. so we were all moving at literally 600 frames per second, 120 miles per hour, or about as fast as a child does when they are told there's cake.

which is to say, we were all frazzled and stressed out of our minds.

so i open the door to the res life office at around 9 pm to cut out the word "but" in orange construction paper and grab 2 sheets of purple scrapbooking paper. in the office are the four RAs that were on duty that night, plus a good 7 other people are running around asking about glue sticks and construction paper and keys.

i knew that i only had my sloth board left to complete so i decided to take my sweet ass time, knowing that i was in need of a good break (and also im just a procrastinator) so i cut my letters and grabbed my paper and stood at the desk for no less than an hour talking to everyone about things like the fact that i fell out of a suitcase when i was 2 and that tamper proof lids exist because of the chicago poison pill murders and the flagship l.l. bean store in maine. it was very productive.

so i finally slink back to my dorm at around 10pm, very confident that i would finish by midnight and could watch some netflix or something before i went to bed. if only i knew what was in store for me.

i enter my dorm building and walk to the elevators. and then. one of the RAs from the third floor was like "oh saph. [another RA in the building] is looking for you."

and me, of course, didnt bring my phone to the res life office so i didnt know this.

i go up to the second floor and see one of the RAs from the second floor and another from one of the other buildings working on a bulletin board. they say "oh saph. [the same RA in the building] is looking for you."

i run up to my dorm and discover that somehow we missed the bulletin board by the downstairs elevator. seriously there's too fucking many bulletin boards. and they were asking me to do it. because they wanted to put covid policies on it.

and i know i said this story was about axe body spray. and it is. we are getting there.

so panic sets in because its 10pm and i still have two whole bulletin boards to make now. one of which i have nothing planned for. so i threw some soup in the microwave (because i had forgotten that dinner existed) and opened my laptop.

thankfully, i could reuse some of the same stuff from my own covid policies board in my common room. i just had to print it. which meant, yep you guessed it, another trip back to the res life office!!

at this point i think i had taken a grand total of at least 7 trips to the res life office that day alone. its a good 5 minute walk. not terrible, but just annoying enough that you hate yourself a little more every time that you have to do it. and now its 10:30pm. i am starving. i have two boards to complete. it was crunch time.

i make it to the office and this time i had no time to sit around and debate how popular l.l. bean is. i had policies to print and letters to cut.

as im struggling with the printer (because those fucking things can smell fear), someone else in the office starts loudly discussing timothee chalamet.

and now, this is where you want to actually pay attention because this man would be the reason i ended up only getting 4.5 hours of sleep.

said man in question is quite the character. he's in my grade and im pretty sure he's a polisci major (and maybe creative writing? there's some kind of writing) and he plays lacrosse. i dont really know how to describe him other than the fact that the first interaction i ever had with him was two years ago at freshman orientation when he complained to me in the dining hall that there was no milk for his protein powder.

that interaction is in my top 10 favorite interactions ive had in college.

but the one we are about to unpack definitely takes all of the cake.

so here i am, struggling with the printer and my tiny knock off dongle. the other RA on my floor starts discussing timothee chalamet's outfits with the protein powder RA.

and so apparently the protein powder RA worked in some major fashion designer brand corporate something or other thing over the pandemic. he told me which one but i was so shot and only thinking in construction paper and glue and staples that i didnt process any of it. but it was a fancy one. the store that is.

and so here's what happened:

me: "timothee chalamet? isn't he like, 17?"

protein powder RA and the other RA on my floor: "nah he's like 25. ive checked."

yet another RA: "yeah i just googled it."

me, a wimbo: "oh im thinking of finn wolfhard. but i dont think he's 17 either."

listen before you slam me, remember it is like 11pm and i have to still do 2 bulletin boards and we have training at 9am the next morning.

so protein powder RA pulls up some photo of timothee chalamet and starts telling me about all the brands he's wearing and i literally said "i understand all of the words that you're saying separately."

and he said "exactly!! he's just so great that when you put it all together you can't understand it!! he's just too perfect!!"

and the i made a detrimental decision.

there is life before this decision and life after.

i said "well. bring your fashion designer knowledge into the lounge and help me decide what color to cut my letters."

and he said okay.

so after severely debating the different color purples that we had and listening to the finer points of the fashion industry, i noticed something important.

he smelled like axe body spray.

see i bet you thought i forgot the point of the story. i did not.

let it be known that we are juniors in college (that's 20-21 years old if you dont know). axe is very common in middle and high school boys locker rooms. i have vivid memories of avoiding that hallway so i wouldn't be choked.

so im trying not to inhale too deeply because the smell has permeated my mask as i cut my "covid safety" letters in the color this man has dubbed "light lilac" and half listening to him talk about the fashion industry.

but i finish quickly, somehow escape the smell of axe, and grab my laptop and print outs before tagging along with the same protein powder RA and the other lax player RA back to the dorms. its now 11:15 pm. i still have 2 bulletin boards to complete. my soup is sitting in my microwave in my dorm, almost forgotten about.

halfway back from the office i realize that i forgot my dongle. i say so out loud and protein power RA says that he will go back and look because he's just that guy who likes to help. i say okay fine. and i sprint to my dorm building, drop the print outs and letters downstairs for later, and start the sloth board.

several minutes later, my soup has been inhaled, my papers glued, a sloth cut out, and im sitting in a mess of construction paper and staples in the hallway when i get a text from protein powder RA that quite simply said:

"its not there. do you need help with your boards?"

and me, being me, because i am exhausted and in need of company, say "yeah sure."

by the time he finally shows up, he's changed his outfit.

as a side note, every time ive seen this man during the last 5 days of training, he's been wearing a different outfit. oh and he works for lulu lemon. forgot to mention that.

but alas, here he came, holding my papers and reeking of axe as he walked down the hall to me, who is failing to staple a sloth to my bulletin board.

so for the next two hours i did my boards and he sat and talked. he wasn't physically helping me, but he was helping me stay awake, cause this man is a ball of fucking energy, and that was very important.

i only remember about half of what he said but essentially he was talking about how he was trying to be a better person than the one that he was freshman year. which is admirable. but he does still reek of axe.

at around 1 am i finished my last board and went upstairs to clean up. he came with me and sat on the floor and continued to talk while i cleaned up my disaster of paper and staples and glue among other things. at this point i was so relieved that i had finished that i was actually able to engage in the conversation, which was surprisingly deep and interesting.

and then. its about 1:45 am. i am about to wash my dishes so i can shower and go to bed. because remember that i need to be at training at 9 am the next morning.

and he says something about trying to be a better person again. and me, in all my sleep deprived glory, says:

drum roll

"and yet you still wear axe body spray."

and all hell broke loose.

i would like to preface by saying that he freaked out in a very joking matter and was not actually mad at me. but he was definitely disappointed and in shock. the next hour pretty much consisted of:

"are you kidding me? this is prada something something cologne and all these celebrities wear it!! how dare- it could not POSSIBLY SMELL LIKE AXE!!! well i guess its a little dry and axe is kind of dry smelling...bUT I SPENT SO MUCH ON THIS BOTTLE and the lady sold me on the larger one and it was like 150 bucks and UGH i cannot smell like axe! you know i got four compliments on how i smelled today??! and you're telling me i smell like fucking- *sniffs shirt* no! there's no way!! well i mean... no i cannot. i cannot smell like designer axe. damnit saph! im gonna have to sell this whole bottle now cause i can't use it! BUT ITS PRADA!!"

for an hour.

but it was very entertaining.

eventually i dragged him to the common room cause i needed to do my dishes and sleep and he continued ranting about it there, going as far as to call his best friend (who was asleep) and another RA and ask them if he smelled like axe. i meanwhile was laughing my ass off and 12 kinds of tired but couldn't find it in myself to care.

eventually he decided he needed yet another opinion. so he went to find the other RA on my floor, which, if you remember, is the same one who was thirsting over timothee chalamet with him in the res life office all of those fateful hours before. but that RA was nowhere to be found. so he ran down to the common room below us and scared the shit out of three freshmen.

and he asked these freshmen if he smelled like axe.

the answer was yes.

after that he left because it was 2:30 in the morning, and all the while he was yelling about how he was going to come to training tomorrow with different shirts with all his different colognes on them and have me sniff them because he couldn't smell like designer axe.

and i did the only logical thing. went upstairs to my my dorm and made him a door deck that looked like a bottle of axe that had a post it on the front that said "designer."

and so. now you all know not to buy cologne because its expensive because there's a good chance it will just end up smelling like axe.

and i didn't get to smell his other colognes because i almost passed out in training and left to take a nap. but maybe that was a blessing in disguise.

we’ve been dating for a year and seven months and just graduated college :) and in a fun twist of events, prada no longer makes that cologne anymore.

#not a tag #from saph #designer axe #saph and brad origin #bless

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yesimwriting · 2 years ago

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One of Them

SCREAM VI SPOILERS !

A/n Just a little thing I wrote up that’s set up to have a part 2. This is inspired by the scene where Ethan talks about being excited to kill Chad,, but this is more of a set up and in part 2 we’ll see that lol

Summary: Ethan picks the worst time to develop a crush on one of the core four’s best friends. Especially when said best friend has been spending extra time around Chad.

----

You swear you can feel the base of the music vibrating in your chest. Thump. Thump. Maybe it’s shifting the beat of your heart to match. Or maybe you should stop refilling the red solo cup in your hand before you can piece together how you downed it.

Halloween weekend and a fraternity. Dangerous enough combination.

Blinking hard, you force your eyes to focus. You may not be sober, but at least you’re not so drunk you think you’re invincible. A bar some of your friends have surpassed...Tara brushed past you and barely mumbled a ‘sorry, getting more beer, you want anything?’ If you had felt any better, you might have told her to slow down.

When your vision refocuses, your eyes land on a familiar figure. Chad. It only takes you another second to find Ethan right next to him. Chad looks up and waves you over.

Ah. The realization that you’re about to be around Ethan again makes you down the last of what’s in your cup. So much for pacing yourself for the rest of the night.

You walk over casually. Unfortunately for you, the rush of additional alcohol paired with the toxic waste zone that is the ground of the fraternity makes your shoes lose traction just as you lose balance. You slip.

“Woah...” Chad’s hand is warm and steady on your waste as he saves you from a total wipeout. “You might want to mix in some water between the shots those sorority girls keep getting you to do.”

Normally, you’d feel awkward, but Chad’s so inherently nice it doesn’t come. Sure, the alcohol’s helping, but at least half of your sense of ease comes from him. You half grin. “Where’s the fun in that?” Chad doesn’t let go of you until you’re clearly stable. “Kidding. I promise I’m trying to ease up.”

He briefly raises his eyebrows like he doesn’t quite believe you. “Sure.”

“You’re one to talk, Ethan and you have been drinking since before we got here.”

“It’s called pregaming.”

Ethan tilts his head slightly, “For the record, I don’t mind watching you take shots with the sisters of whatever those Greek letters were.”

There’s something almost comical, almost suggestive about his words. You’re too out of it to fully follow. “Yeah? You looking for a member of Kappa Kappa whatever Elle Woods was in?”

Ethan blinks, parts his lips, and then halfheartedly drops his head. Is he...flustered? The display is oddly cute and you nearly laugh.

Chad warmly bumps Ethan’s shoulder with his hand. “Nah, my boy Ethan’s looking for...” A brief trail off that once again, you think you’d be able to get if it wasn’t for all you had to drink. “Something else.”

The spirit of over drinking must possess you, because you grin and ask, “Yeah? You more the settling down type?” It’s not violently bold, but it’s more than you usually give. More than you would have gone for if you had been more sober. You laugh to cover your regret. “That was um...more vodka than me.” You shake your head once as if that will reset the conversation. “Oh. Speaking of settling down, Chad I um...”

You freeze, wondering if you said too much. Chad has taken to having a roommate well. He drags Ethan along and pushes him out of his comfort zone in a way that you think is good for him. You also think Ethan is good for keeping Chad a little stable. You know they’re friendly, friendlier than Ethan is with anyone else, but you don’t know if they’re close enough to talk about crushes. More specifically, the crush Chad has on Tara. The one you’ve been trying to help him think of a good way to confess because he labeled you the ‘Tara expert’ since the two of you became such fast friends.

“The project.” Nice. It was nowhere near subtle and you can’t help shooting a glance in Ethan’s direction to see that if he picked up on it. Ah--too late to keep going. “I have something that--that has to do with it that we--that I need to show you.”

Chad’s eyebrows draw together but eventually realization draws in. “Oh...yeah, I should go see what that project thing’s about.” It’s a faulty exit, but it’s not like you’ve given him much to work with.

The alcohol turns in your stomach at Ethan’s flat expression. That was kind of an asshole move, like you’re trying to purposefully leave him out when you just didn’t want to out your friend. Chad trusted you with a secret that’s a bigger deal than it seems. Liking Tara isn’t as casual as liking anyone else because of how bonded their friend group is. The four of them need each other. It’s a situation much too delicate for an unsober you to insert yourself in.

“Hey, Ethan.” You’re already walking forward, feeling nervous about the Tara situation. You should have gotten to this faster. You didn’t like the frat guy she was with. “We’re still on for tomorrow? Studying?”

His head tilts and you briefly wonder if you’ve somehow more awkward. “Uh--I’m not sure you’re going to be up for econ homework tomorrow.”

“That’s okay,” you hum easily, “I’ll call you and we can figure it out, even if it’s just getting hangover food together.”

Ethan’s confusion slowly morphs into what’s almost a smile. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll call you.”

You don’t have a way to justify how excited that makes you. Maybe it’s the alcohol. You really hope it’s the alcohol that’s making you grin like a little kid. “Cool.”

Someone steps froward, accidentally bumping into you and reminding you of the setting. Right. Party. Tara. Weird frat guy. Chad. You turn your head and grab on to Chad’s arm to stay stable. “C’mon, we need to find Tara. Serious SOS.”

----

The world shared in your chaos for a brief second. Some frat guy grabbed Tara too harshly, Chad got him to back off, and Sam burst in and tased the guy. Everyone pulled out their phones and then all it took was one reddit loser to recognize Sam. They’re all trying to leave and you’re half stranded on a couch that’s weirdly damp because you’re not sure you can still move.

“I know you don’t want to be here but we can’t just leave her!” You hear that from somewhere behind you. Tara.

Sam begrudgingly sighs. “I--I didn’t say we should leave her!”

You want to defend her, the words angling themselves on your tongue. They never come out. Your eyelids are too heavy and your bones have sunken too far into the couch. Sam isn’t the kind of person to leave a friend on a sticky couch when they’re too far gone to even fully lift their head, but the reality of it all doesn’t feel relevant.

Maybe she would leave you. Maybe they’d both come around to that. It’s not like you’re their sister or a part of their little...survivor inner circle.

God, that’s a fucked up thing to think, even in the state you’re in, but you can’t help it. The impulse is always there. That doubt. You know why they’re all so close and there’s no way you’re jealous about what they’ve experienced but sometimes being around and knowing that there’s a distinction is hard. Especially because they’re the only people you care about. Maybe that’s why you try so hard with Ethan. You know what it’s like to be a part of it and separate all at once.

“I can take her.” Another voice, a newer, softer voice. Almost hesitant. Ethan. “To the apartment, make sure she gets there okay.”

"I think we should just do it,” Tara mumbles, “We have to go home anyway.”

There’s a beat of silence and then Chad says, “It’ll be easier if we send them ahead...you two seem too tense to be be dealing with her right now.”

Ugh. Dealing with. You turn your head in an attempt to lift it off the couch. It briefly works before you slump down again. “Hey.”

“Said with love, you’re a free spirit.”

You try again, and this time it’s a little more successful. “’Free spirit’ is what you called that girl that offered to blow you in the bathroom.”

He sighs. “Don’t be difficult.”

“Difficult?”

“Okay,” Sam interjects, because she knows how you and Chad get when you start bickering, “Ethan can take her, I think we need to take a second to talk about--”

“Whatever,” Tara sighs, already walking away. She turns her head to look at Ethan, “If she’s not safe in bed by the time I get home I will fuck you up.” Sam and Chad throw her a look. “What? It’s not like we’ve known him forever.”

----

You stumble into your room with an overwhelming awareness of how much you love the space. You were the last one to join the apartment, not starting school during the summer session and not finding the online roommate wanted ad before Quinn, but it feels like you could have lived a lifetime here already.

“We made it.”

Ethan’s arm is still around your shoulders. He pulled you close to him after a stranger on the street looked at your Halloween costume a little too long and tried to talk to you. The whole thing had been awkward as the stranger kept calling after you and for a brief second you could have sworn Ethan’s eyes lose all hint of their usual warmth. You didn’t think about it, assuming it was just one of those guy, testosterone things. It should have bothered you more. But it didn’t. You felt safe, secure as you leaned into him and his warmth.

“Barely.” It’s said half teasing as Ethan lets you go to sit on your bed. He leans forward and sets down the cardboard helmet he took off on your walk on your desk.

You pretend to be more offended than you feel, crossing over to your bed and sitting down next to him. “Don’t be rude.” Nudging his arm with your shoulder, you half laugh, “I was awesome with directions.”

He leans his weight back on his forearm. “You were...awesome.” It’s half whispered, almost begrudging and a little shy.

You grin openly, leaning a little closer to him to compensate for his quiet town. “Thanks for...walking me.”

Ethan watches you for a second, following your lead in shifting a little closer. Your foreheads are practically touching and you can feel the barely-there brush of his curls against your skin. “Why are you whispering?”

Like he isn’t whispering back. “I don’t know. You started it.”

He briefly smiles, an expression that he fights against poorly. You’re left with the odd feeling that you’re winning even though you can’t figure out exactly what the game is. “I started it?”

“Don’t try to confuse me just because I had more to drink than you.”

He holds his hands up in defense briefly before setting them down closer than they were before. His palm is flat against the back of yours. It’s so warm and certain, so much more soothing than the state you’re in. You’re still buzzed, because you turn over your hand slowly, half scared that a too sharp move will ruin all of this. Ethan lets you. He also lets you fit your fingers between his.

For a second, you two just sit there in silence, hands loosely held together. The sound of your door being thrown open instantly turns the whole thing into something a lot larger. You don’t know why, but everything about the situation burns beyond a comfortable warmth and into something uncomfortably scorching. You push yourself to the edge of your bed and make a point of squeezing your hands on your lap as you turn to face the door.

Tara’s standing there, leaning against the doorframe. Her expression morphs from nearly blank with shock to a much more straightforward concern. “You...” She drops her gaze to the new space between you and Ethan. “...Guys need to see the news.”

#scream VI #scream 2023 #scream x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader

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foxes-that-run · 6 months ago

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Everything Has Changed

Taylor told Digital Spy: "It's about falling in love. It's about meeting someone and all of a sudden your entire perspective on the world changes - you're thinking for two, instead of one." It was written the week starting 20 May 2012, after Harry arrived in LA.

Music Video

The scene where the class is watching a move these are scenes of Paris, a hint toward Begin Again and Paris being special to Harry and Taylor. Eiffel Tower, Pont Alexandre III - Bridge over the Seine appear.

The school play scene is reminiscent of Harry's actual first performance in a school play when he was 6, Harry also recreated part of this in the Daylight Music Video.

It's full of adorable moments where the two kids, (who return for the Joker and the Queen) where the boy and girl are apart from other kids in their own private world. The tent scene is later in Willow:

The little boy reads the Notebook, Harry's favourite movie to the girl. The girl is doing embroidery (!! very loml coded! LK does too)

The girl tattoos the boy, as is in IKYWT and reality Taylor was there when Harry got the ship tattoo.

The kids communicate by text, rather like two pop stars who live in different countries would and do, such as this famous VMA exchange, and the letter exchange in the Delicate video.

The Taylors Version Lyric Video also uses Pink & Blue text and butterflies.

Live performances

Taylor performed it with Ed on the Red Tour. It wasn't played on the 1989 or Reputation tours. It was a surprise song, with TIWWCHNT, on 22 July 2023, the date of Harry's final Love on Tour show.

When was it written and 20 May 2012

15 May 2012 - Taylor and Ed started writing together working on Run first.

20 May 2012 - At the end of a tour break Harry and 1D arrived in LA, Harry & Taylor disappeared for a week. The rest of the band went to Mohegan Sun in CT and are seen by fans without Harry.

22 May 2012 - Harry performs with One Direction

27 May 2012 - Ed and Taylor meet and write Everything Has Changed together on her Trampoline. Although Ed said their 'camps reached out at the same time' Ed and Harry had been friends since Ed was 19 and Harry was 16. Ed also wrote several songs for One Direction and likely introduced them. Ed, Taylor and Harry. were experiencing all a new level of success. Only last year Ed talked wistfully about having jam nights writing music in a community this song reminds me of.

28 May - Harry gets the A tattoo and later says it is for his mum, the band laughs and says it is for a mystery blonde. Taylor wrote under Taylor A Swift and wore an A sweater in End Game.

29 May - Ed and Taylor record EHC

17 June - Harry got the temper trap tattoo

23 June - Harry's 'Hi' tattoo is first seen in Dallas 23 June, possibly referring to this song.

The draft lyrics refer to a Gemini, which Taylor has not dated. Maybe someone in Ed's life, a veiled reference to a twin (which Taylor uses again in TTPD) or Harry does have Gemini in his chart.

Ed later said, Taylor was in a relationship when they met: (Tumblr | eNews)

“When I first met Taylor I was in a relationship and she was in a relationship and we just formed a friendship through that,“ he said. "And both our relationships ended and we just carried on being friends. There’s nothing I really want more than friendship there. I know her very very well now and she knows me very very well.”

Secret message

The secret message is "Hyiannis Port" rather than "Hyannis Port". The additional 'I' may be a typo - but knowing Taylor's attention to detail I think it is "H-and-I" Harry signs short messages 'H' and 'y' Spanish 'and'.

This secret message is often thought to indicate Conor Kennedy, However Taylor met Connor 4 July 2012, 2 months after the song was recorded. Taylor owned the house in Hyannis Port house from August 2012 - March 2013, she was dating Harry for almost all of that time. As in Alex and Sierra's I Love You and August they spent time there.

Lyrics

[Intro: Ed Sheeran] “You good to go?” [Verse 1: Taylor Swift] All I knew this morning when I woke Is I know something now, know something now I didn’t before And all I’ve seen since 18 hours ago Is green eyes and freckles And your smile in the back of my mind making me feel like

The first verse set the scene for enthusiastic new beginnings. Taylor describes Harry's green eyes and freckles, Taylor continues to use green in association with Harry.

[Pre-Chorus: Taylor Swift & Ed Sheeran] I just want to know you better, know you better, know you better now x4

Harry later refers to this in Sunflower Vol 6: "Wish I could get to know you"

[Chorus: Taylor Swift & Ed Sheeran] ‘Cause all I know is we said, “Hello” And your eyes look like coming home All I know is a simple name Everything has changed All I know is you held the door You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours All I know since yesterday Is everything has changed

All I know is we said 'hello' and a simple name (Harry). Harry got his Hi Tattoo a few weeks after this song was written.

Your eyes look like coming home - Home is an important theme in Harry and Taylor's work and means a person, rather than a place. This is from the Notebook (Your mother is my home) which is also featured in the music video.

[Verse 2: Ed Sheeran, Taylor Swift] And all my walls stood tall, painted blue I’ll take ’em down, take ’em down And open up the door for you And all I feel in my stomach is butterflies, the beautiful kind Makin’ up for lost time, taking flight making me feel right

Walls standing painted blue means Taylor was feeling isolated and depressed. There is an odd similarity with Paper Rings where she painted the muses brothers' walls blue... and had a suss exposition of holding a paintbrush in front of a blue wall. Here though, she is taking down the walls and letting the muse in.

Doors are a Haylor Theme

Butterflies - while butterflies were key in the artwork for Lover and appear in spotify canvases for it, Taylor only refers to them twice - in this song and Clean. "When the butterflies turned to dust that covered my whole room" Harry referenced in Olivia "The summertime and butterflies / All belong to your creation / I love you, it's all I do". He also has a large butterfly tattoo on his chest.

Flight is also a Haylor theme

[Bridge: Taylor Swift & Ed Sheeran] Come back and tell me why I’m feeling like I’ve missed you all this time And meet me there tonight Let me know that it’s not all in my mind

Making up for lost time is very similar to something Harry later said at TIFF about wasted time being the most devastating thing.

'Let me know that it's not all in my mind' Minds are a Haylor theme. Here it is filled with possibility, a leap of faith expected to be returned by the muse, which it was. On TTPD it is the opposite, a feeling that it is not reciprocated:

I hate it here: I will go to Lunar valleys in my mind

Guilty as Sin: What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh

Only in my mind?

[Outro: Taylor Swift] All I know is we said, “Hello” So dust off your highest hopes All I know is pouring rain And everything has changed All I know is a new found grace All my days, I’ll know your face All I know since yesterday Is everything has changed

Pouring rain is later referred to in many key songs about Harry and Taylors relationship. It is the key metaphor in Clean, which is an ending in the relationship, Everything Has Changed being the beginning. In Clean:

Rain came pouring down When I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe And by morning Gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean

This reference in Clean as rain washing their love away is again referred to in My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys: "The voices in his head called the rain to end our days of wild"

The imagery of rain pouring down, washing away but also as a metaphor for depression has been a theme in Harry and Taylors songs. Most remarkably in the music videos for Falling/Cardigan. Rain is also in How You Get The Girl: "Stand there like a ghost, shaking from the rain"

#Haylor #Everything has changed #red taylor’s version #Red #red taylor swift #song analysis #Lyric analysis

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moonlitlex · 1 year ago

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i have so much to say abt chalice of the gods so im just gonna copy paste my review from goodreads here. you can also read it on goodreads

ok. i promised i would hate this book. and i do. i hate this book. i also hate rick riordan. in addition, i hate capitalism. i promise that’s relevant.

let’s talk about the book now. i’ll cover the things i love first. i love percy jackson. i love grover. i love annabeth. i love sally. i love paul. i love percy annabeth and grover together. all of these things are very obvious and self-explanatory. percy is hands down THE main character of all time. i have nothing bad to say about him. his literal fatal flaw is loyalty. he’s actually perfect and has no flaws. this is expected from the son of sally jackson, the perfect person. paul is sweet and kind to sally and that’s really all that matters. annabeth is awesome and supportive and so is grover and they’re all besties forever. you get it. you’ve read percy jackson.

the jokes are better than before. there are definitely some legitimately funny jokes in this book, which i was really missing from the last few rick riordan installments. and i don’t think this is because rick suddenly got funnier. i think it’s because this style of joke works for percy. of all of rick’s protagonists, percy seems the most natural fit for these jokes.

sally is great. grover and annabeth are generally on form. so is percy, as much as can be expected from rick riordan at this point. i will elaborate on this later.

now to complain. this is the stupidest premise i’ve ever heard of. percy is a high school senior. he is going to go to new rome university. he needs 3 divine recommendations. this is already a stupid premise but don’t worry, it gets worse. poseidon reveals that the reason percy needs these recommendations is that it’s a special requirement for him specifically made by zeus. and the reason he gets to have this stupid requirement is that he’s a child of the big three and shouldn’t exist.

hello. zeus. yes, lord zeus, it’s me. alexis.

what the absolute FUCK are you saying.

this doesn’t MAKE SENSE. the only reason percy shouldn’t have existed was that the gods had a stupid pact to not have any kids because of a stupid prophecy. two things here. one - that prophecy is OVER. everything turned out fine. thanks to percy jackson. you’re welcome, gods of olympus. two - percy has literally saved olympus TWICE now. two times. this is genuinely such a dumb and made up reason to send percy on a quest that i can’t even turn my brain off and enjoy it. it’s not fun. leave percy alone. LEAVE HIM ALONE.

it’s literally insane how stupid this setup is. rick keeps writing books about how the gods are horrible and take advantage of the demigods and the demigods live terrible lives. in this book, percy has LITERALLY saved olympus TWICE and motherfucking zeus (literally) had to be talked down from making him get 25 letters of recommendation to 3. this is AFTER percy spent 3 years in pjo almost being killed and got his memory wiped for 6-8 months depending on which book you read in hoo and then got sent on a quest to save the entire world AGAIN. this CHILD got like a 2-4 month break (depending on which book you’re reading) and he woke up with no fucking memory and had to spend like 2 more months fighting monsters and the literal primordial earth goddess. and now he has to go on literally pointless quests that someone who didn’t just get back home from saving the actual world could ALSO just do. because he needs to get some fucking letters of recommendation.

look. genuinely. percy jackson should snap at this point in the story. this boy should’ve snapped like at least 5 books ago. at minimum. rick wrote the perfect setup to show us percy’s instant descent into madness. he should LOSE it. all the gods have done for the ENTIRE time he’s known he’s a demigod is treat demigods like disposable tools. this is the point in the story where percy goes. wow. luke was right. you guys are all assholes who don’t care about us even a little bit. i am NOT saying what needs to follow is a fanfic-esque dark!percy story where he successfully destroys olympus or something. what i AM saying. is at bare minimum this is where percy goes you know what fuck you i hate you guys and washes his hands of being a demigod at least temporarily. at the very least he should sit back and think yeah, i don’t really want to go to new rome university. it’s not worth it. i will just go to a different university. look. it’s percy jackson. he can literally one shot all but the most fearsome monsters (typhon, the giants, a drakon, etc). he is literally going to be 100% completely fine going to mortal university AND he wont have to deal with zeus’s annoying ass.

listen. MY percy jackson wanted to kill smelly gabe as a 12 year old because he abused his mother. MY percy jackson doesn’t like bullies. MY percy jackson challenged ares to a fight just on the basis that ares was a fucking asshole.

MY percy jackson is not going on useless fucking quests to go to new rome university of all places.

which reminds me. why DOES he want to go to new rome university. this is percy jackson. he LOVES new york. why is percy “what did they do to my city” jackson going to university ACROSS THE COUNTRY from the city he loves. why is he doing that. and hey look. sally and paul (and soon estelle) are ALSO going to be in new york. so like WHY is he leaving for real. percy my fatal flaw is loyalty jackson. IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE OK! it’s percy he is seriously not going to have issues with common monsters attacking him. we literally saw him fight off titans and giants a fucking hellhound isn’t gonna get his ass. WHY is he leaving. it does NOT make sense.

there’s this scene ok. where sally tells them she’s pregnant. and percy’s like oh my god…. i’m going to be in california…. and my sister is going to be here…. and i was just sitting there going. yeah bro. why are you going to california. i literally do not understand. you literally are from nyc. you live here. your family is here. your friends from chb are like a short pegasus ride away. there are like 50 universities in new york. just go here. why are you leaving. you are percy jackson. being a new yorker is literally one of your defining traits. stay here. WHY AR EYOU LEAVING I DO NOT UNDERSTAND PERSEUS

and listen. if your argument is that annabeth is going to be in nru. why the FUCK is ANNABETH going to nru!!!!! WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT!!!! EXPLAIN IT!!!! percy LITERALLY says annabeth is such an overachiever she’s already run out of ap classes to take. he literally says that. why the fuck is this girl going to nru where let’s be real her admission is guaranteed. annabeth is 100% someone who would want to go to an ivy. and would you fucking believe it there’s an ivy right here in nyc. like let’s be fucking realistic here. annabeth started her architecture career at SIXTEEN designing the city the fucking GODS live in. so like. don’t you think she’d want to be a bit more challenged. don’t you think she’d want to go to a university that is actually recognizable to mortals. annabeth did NOT love new rome that much like did richard forget what he wrote. this girl was freaking out about new rome until percy said he only likes it because they could live together there. she literally does not care about new rome and she is WAY too ambitious and academically inclined to be happy with going to some small as uni 99% of employers have never heard of.

this isn’t even the worst character assassination in the book. that award goes to the way rick wrote percy. percy. my darling percy. my beloved percy. perseus jackson. light of my life. as i said before, he is MOSTLY on form. the him really wanting to cali thing is definitely ooc for him but it is NOTHING compared to the sheer amount of times rick portrays percy as stupid in this accursed novel. his internal monologue is constantly shit like i’m always so behind annabeth and omg i’m being so dumb right now and annabeth calls me seaweed brain because i’m an idiot and blah blah fucking blah.

dick riordan has forgotten that perseus jackson is, in fact, not stupid at all. he is INCREDIBLY clever. he is just not particularly academically inclined/not very book smart and it would also be perfectly understandable given the fucking books that riordan wrote to interpret that as percy being very discouraged from engaging with his studies. he genuinely enjoys chiron’s class at yancy because chiron is an engaging teacher and encourages him. he spends 90% of his time in pjo deducing what’s going on with extremely limited information because rick decided none of the characters can tell him anything because of plot and exposition reasons. in son of neptune he literally just coasts on having sherlockian (not bbc that’s a whole other angry review) powers of deduction. to the point where the characters around him are amazed at how he’s figuring stuff out. literally in house of hades annabeth’s pov’s are constantly her commenting on how she gives percy shit for being a dumbass but he’s actually really clever.

it genuinely feels like at some point during the writing of mark of athena rick decided to just slowly start making various fanon ideas canon. percy being stupid is very commonly accepted fanon because he doesn’t realize how smart he is (and fans don’t realize he’s an unreliable narrator) and the fans also love to infantilize characters with more in your face adhd (leo is another victim of this phenomenon). we’ve spent 5 books in percy’s head and he doesn’t think he’s particularly clever so it makes sense to ignore the mountains of evidence pointing towards his quick and creative thought process in favour of haha percy is dumb jokes.

the wild thing is, percy isn’t even that hard on himself in pjo. he obviously doesn’t see himself in the same way we later come to find out other people see him (mainly thinking about hazel and frank in son of neptune, which is the only time in hoo he genuinely feels like the same character as pjo percy) but he’s not really dealing with crazy self doubt and self esteem issues. he does have his down on himself moments but they’re all extremely understandable given the context because he literally faces impossible odds in every single pjo book. at one point he’s disappointed he couldn’t tell that ares and luke manipulated him… like yes bestie that’s a very valid thing to feel upset and betrayed about. it doesn’t mean that he’s actually stupid though and genuinely he comes across more as humble and not realizing just how awesome and cool and interesting he is than anything else. percy consistently shows that he is really clever. half of pjo is percy figuring out a new and interesting way of defeating his enemies and the other half is percy figuring out how to bait his enemies into a duel to improve his odds. it’s horrible what rick does to percy in his internal monologue.

it’s to an insane degree. yes i realize i have already written 500 words about percy not being stupid alone but i must stress how egregious this is. it’s literally characters who have previously acknowledged percy’s intelligence who start remarking about how he’s stupid. in house of hades percy and annabeth get out of fucking TARTARUS and reyna makes a jab about how percy wouldn’t be able to find his way out of a paper bag without annabeth. that is an INSANE thing to say for reyna and for rick. rick has not written a stupid character so it’s weird to make that something a character does without really trying to show them being wrong. from reyna’s perspective, this is a guy she was complimenting a few short weeks ago. this is a guy she immediately wanted to make a leader at the camp that she loves and is her home. this is guy she barely knows and she pretty much immediately proposes to him. WHY would she suddenly start making jokes about how dumb he is? it’s not like she actually knows him better now. he came to the battle with reinforcements and basically immediately dipped after the feast. how are we to accept reyna treating our beloved perseus in this horrific manner? we simply cannot. it is unnacceptable. this is inaccurate.

it’s so WRONG to do this to percy. yES I UNDERSTAND I HAVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT THIS FOR TOO LONG. I DON’T CARE. PERCY JACKSON IS MY BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE AND I NEED TO DEFEND HIM FROM THIS SLANDER. I AM ONLY PARTIALLY JOKING. listen. liSTEN. this is the guy whose signature move is manipulate your enemy into dueling with you when you’re outnumbered or outmatched. he very coolly manipulated bob into killing his own brother (btw this was very hot and sexy and clever and attractive perseus is king of gaslight gatekeep girlboss). he is NOT stupid. he is impulsive. he is extremely oblivious about some things. he is NOT stupid. i watched perseus jackson grow up for 5 books and he is not stupid. i always say this. i always say that percy is not stupid and richard riordan refuses to listen to me.

there are such horrendous lines as “i am a guy of limited talents. if i can’t kill it with water, a sword, or sarcasm, i’m basically defenseless.” richard how DARE you say this about my beloved perseus. he is NEVER like this. he literally would never say that. even at absolute worst percy’s internal monologue was “this plan is stupid and will get us killed. but it’s the plan i have.” he’s NOT a being defenseless guy. what hte fuck are you saying. richard did you read your own books. RICHARD. DID YOU. at one point he says that he is constantly several steps behind annabeth’s thought process. he has literally never thought this before and it is also untrue. richard. i hate you. read your own fucking books oh my god.

ok. i think i have sufficiently harped on the fact that percy is not stupid. now i will complain about another thing. and this was just in one part but it bothered me and this is my review so i get to talk about whatever i want. if you don’t like it read someone else’s review. don’t hate read my review. i didn't charge you money to read it

at one point, percy has to wrestle a god who hercules once wrestled. and annabeth says something about hercules brute forcing it. and look. i GET that hercules was freakishly strong. i get that. i understand it. but when annabeth says hercules just brute forced it they’re both like ah shit i can’t do that. perseus. beloved. you ripped the minotaurs horn off its head with your bare hands as a 12 year old with no training. you are literally insanely strong as is. that is an insane thing for a 12 year old to be able to do. hell, that would be an insane thing for a grown adult to do. i don’t think rick realizes how op percy is. he was so caught up in making percy cool (which is, you know, extremely understandable and right and correct percy jackson is the coolest man in fiction for a reason i get it) that he forgot that he made percy extremely unbelievably powerful too. with the curse of achilles he was potentially matching minor gods in power level. he fights while sustaining mini-hurricanes and explodes glaciers and shit.

some more things. the prose is… acceptable. the plot reads like a fever dream. there is a smoothie shop called himbo juice that annabeth percy and grover are evidently regulars at. and there are. himbos. that serve. juice. so you can imagine what this fever dream looks like. like the last couple rick riordan releases, this one reads like published fanfiction too, just with better quality of writing than the sun and the star.

there are some WEIRD continuity errors in here. one of them is fairly minor but i still noticed it - percy says his father compared his mother to a princess. this is not true. poseidon compared sally to a queen. specifically, he called her “a queen among women”. i know this because i am sally jackson’s number 1 fan.

more egregiously, however, is annabeth’s yankees cap heebie jeebies. percy puts on annabeths’s cap and gets the heebie jeebies while using it. and then he goes wow annabeth. you never told me that using the cap is like this. and annabeth is like yeah well. power is like that. richard. riordan. did you fucking FORGET that percy has, in fact, worn annabeth’s cap before. and it was literally completely. once again, richard, did you read your own books.

one more good thing - when percy fights geras/gary, who is the god/personification of old age, the way he does it is by imagining him and his friends getting older and embracing it. this was a genuinely good and sweet moment and it was very touching. the trio’s talks about this after the fact are also absolutely a return to form from riordan. for like, a few paragraphs. but still.

the biggest problem is just how obvious it is that this book is a cash grab. we had pjo. then we had a sequel series. then we had ANOTHER sequel series. and now we’re getting random standalone novels that are extremely unnecessary and don’t add anything. rick riordan has dollar signs in his eyes. these are not stories that make sense. these are not stories rick genuinely wanted to tell. these are stories that are being told because the purpose of publishing books now is to maximize profit. (sidebar - i told you the capitalism thing would be relevant. you should believe me more often. smh) the only reason rick is still writing these books is that they make money. they feel extremely empty and hollow.

percy is trapped as a teenager forever because rick refuses to let him age up. percy accepting old age would make FAR more sense for a percy who’s in his 20’s and just now realizing that he lived past all the shit he thought was going to kill him and he has a real life that he likes and he could actually grow old now. but percy must be a child for marketing purposes, so he stays a child. the world itself is trapped in a cycle of the gods promising they’ll be better and the gods literally not changing at all. and for the sake of the book series, it can’t change. if we had real change in the world, that would actually mean something, silly. we can’t have consequences. we have to reset every 5 years like a fucking comic book so that we can make infinite money. this is the infinite money glitch irl. just make trash that doesn’t need to be made. the end point of capitalism is making trash no one asked for that has no artistic merit just because you can make money off of it.

by the way, dr emily wilson’s iliad translation, which was also out on the same day, is LESS expensive than this book. this cashgrab nonsense novel is MORE expensive than a book a professor in classics who has a phd spent 4 years on. this is just wrong. the fun and stupid cashgrab book should NOT be more expensive than a book that someone spent 4 years meticulously translating from ancient greek. it’s just so clear and in your face. trials of apollo absolutely felt like a cashgrab but at least there was SOME semblance of effort there. this is literally just the most plain and simple cashgrab novel you can make.

hey. you know the infinite monkey theorem? the infinite monkey theorem is that a monkey hitting keys at random on a typewriter keyboard for an infinite amount of time will almost surely type any given text including shakespeare. richard riordan is a monkey with a typewriter. you get it. you’ve read percy jackson.

rick riordan struck gold with pjo. it’s genuinely to this day one of my favourite things i’ve ever read, flaws and all. it’s FUN. it’s COOL. it’s THEMATICALLY COHESIVE. the characters grow and change. they feel like real people with personalities. it literally doesn’t even matter how op percy is because THAT’S how good of a character he is. he is so compelling that you want to read about him anyway even though you can tell right from the minotaur fight that this kid can decimate whatever opponent he has. the books are funny and moving because you can genuinely connect to these characters. the more i read rick riordan’s work, the more certain i am that pjo was a fluke. i don’t think he knows what he’s doing. i think he should retire from writing.

unfortunately for me, richard riordan seems to have no intention of retiring. he has announced another percy jackson book that will be released next year. i assume there will be at least 2 more books based on the setup in this one.

rick. listen. i know you’re listening because what else will you do with your time. rick, why are you doing this. hasn’t percy been through enough. when will it end. give it a rest. stop it. get some help. at the very least, read your own books before writing percy. i am right about him and you are wrong about him. you are the author and i’m killing you right now. i am strangling you and i am hitting you with weapons. all at once. i am very proficient at causing deaths. (this is a metaphor referring to roland barthes’ death of the author. i wish no bodily harm to richard riordan).

this book is… alright. percy is my smart king. sally jackson is queen of my heart. it’s a fun read but you do have to turn your brain off completely and read through some serious percy defamation.

[edit: i am downgrading this book to one star (was at 2). the more i think about it, the more angry i am. there is literally a paragraph tailor made to rub jason's death in our faces. it's about how he looks forward to getting old being married to piper and having grandchildren. it's a very low blow. jason is literally rick riordan's biggest missed opportunity and he's rubbing in how poorly he treated jason even after killing him off for apollo's character development.

annabeth still keeps putting percy down because rick doesn't realize how mean she is i guess. she's still scared of him. canonically. which is a really weird and fucked up thing to write imo. this relationship doesn't seem healthy in canon (they are healthy in my head, however, because i know what women are like) but rick refuses to address it or let them break up. i LOVE annabeth. i love her. but she is an extremely flawed character and rick never treats her as such. and it just makes it exhausting to read about her.

percy IS on form but it genuinely feels like he's tlt percy, not post hoo percy. his inner voice sounds way more immature than it has for most of pjo and in son. riordan also repurposes the "look, i didn't want to be a half-blood" line from tlt to make a dumb little joke about how high school is hard. it was a GOOD opening line. it immediately set the tone and told us so much about percy in literally just a handful of words. now it's a joke about how being a senior in high school sucks. it's this mcu-esque allergy to being sincere that pjo never had.

there is BARELY any grover in this book. i love grover so much that i was cheering any time he was there, but there is very little of him. he's in like 2 or 3 scenes and has his own side plot going on with juniper and being bad at understanding what his girlfriend wants or whatever. extremely unnecessary and not what i want for grover. this book kind of ends up feeling like it's about annabeth but from percy's perspective. she gets good moments at percy's expense. percy spends the book monologuing about how annabeth is way smarter than him and all he has is his sick ass water powers and the best swordfighting skill in 300 years, both of which are very downplayed. percy explodes a river and it's treated like this crazy freaky scary thing but two years ago in universe he made a volcano erupt and everyone was like yeah this makes sense percy is that powerful. in son he explodes a glacier and it's just a normal tuesday for him. he literally doesn't even react to it. and now we're supposed to believe his exploding and purifying a river feat is some unbelievable feat.]

in conclusion, i want a refund. no i did not purchase this book. however, i would like to be reimbursed about $5000 in emotional damages. i will also be suing richard riordan for defamation on percy’s behalf. good night new york city. and my beloved perseus jackson who lives in new york city.

#alexis.exe #pjo #cotg crit #rr crit #cotg spoilers #cotg #i hope yall who dont want negative stuff have the crit tag blacklisted lol dont come at me

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smileposting · 1 month ago

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new demo observations - part 2!

these focus more lil crumbs of lore here and there that weren't noted in the first post. click here for part 1!

the rift emits a faint Ambience when the camera zooms in on it after you first arrive in the grove. best way i can describe it is like... brown noise. a bassline. something Deep but subtle.

you Can knock down the inspekta cutout on the first island by hitting it with an anchor/ball/etc. there's still no interaction prompt like there is with the mitternacht cutout though, i.e. you cannot knock it down with your bare hands. would not be surprised if this was supposed to be foreshadowing.

bizzy boys in general don’t seem to be very popular lol. they have a reputation for being loud, dumb, mischievous, and starved for praise. can’t say it’s inaccurate! mitternacht even starts crying harder after you tell her inspekta's going to save the day. oddly, razzma doesn't seem to hold their rowdiness against inspekta (although something tells me he really should.)

razzma wrote the big book of king quotes, under the name razzma v. tazz.

in addition to capochin-second-in-command-best-of-da-bunch-dont-forget-it, capochin also claims he is capochin-prettiest-handsomest-bizzyboy-extraordinaire.

al has eaten dirty laundry before. and grass. and dirt. and other bizzyboy's snacks. apparently many of them either don't eat on the job or hide their food from him to escape his endless hunger.

ban got the other letters in his name for giving capochin an hour-long back massage.

vib insults our fit if we call him a bug despite citing it as an inspiration in his default dialogue. very funny. also if you use capochin's words to tell him to get to work he gets Really into it. like moreso than any of the other bizzyboys. starts callin himself capochin's loyal pup. which could mean nothing.

inspekta can’t say “adorable.” it’s like trying to pronounce worcestershire sauce to him.

prior to ascension, inspekta was the leader of the bizzyboys on earth (duh.) when he assigned his role to capochin after ascending, the latter apparently reacted So strongly that inspekta thought he would die. apparently sometimes he wonders if it’s too much responsibility for cap…

calling inspekta a tiny weak little bug apparently reminds him of his human/mortal years, which is. Hm.

inspekta thinks P is cute, but otherwise doesn't have much patience for him at all lmao. does not care for his captain obvious tendencies.

IF YOU TELL BUG GOODY JOB ON THE GOODY WORK FROM INSPEKTA HE TRIES TO SELL YOU OUT BC HE STILL THINKS YOU’RE KING LMAOOOOOO. granted he could also just be trying not to piss inspekta off.

“if yew insist on solvin’ this mystery yewrself, yew be awful careful! the gods can be spiteful folk! proud, too! that’s what the last godpoke could nevah under-sand. i don’t want my godpoke to end uppy like king!” hi inspekta. what the fuck does that mean

“lettin’ words affect you this much? what a drain!” you would know somethin' about that wouldn’t you spek?

lulu seems more willing to trust a “king apologist” than anything else. using the "i miss my eloquent king!" dialogue gets more dialogue out of her than i think almost any other response. interesting.

i might have me a lil crush on her. don't worry about it.

why is king’s letter to milldread like. baiting people into doing blood sacrifice lmao. “oh how horrible… who could do such a thing…. probably a very brave person. probably someone who wasn’t a fuckin pussy” like Dude.

thinking. inspekta thinks king is trying to push all the gods apart yeah? but according to people like mitternacht and razzma, it doesn’t sound like they had all that much before king entered the picture? sounds like all you'd need for them to be at each other's throats again would just be for king to leave. so what's the point of the letters?

ok i'll stop here before we get into speculation. finished the demo by this point anyway!

#psa #great god grove

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vemaro · 10 months ago

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alone again

[PART 3]

This is a link to PART 1 and PART 2.

Pairing: Astarion x Tav (female Tav)

Word count: ~2900

Notes: Sorry this took so long! I was just so unhappy with everything I wrote. I redid this part a handful of times. Honestly, I’m still not totally satisfied. Oh well! I finished this at almost 2 am and proofread really quickly before work so hopefully this thing is legible. Ngl, this song helped inspire me a little. I hadn’t heard it in a while and it fit the mood.

Here you go!

…

Tav is convinced she’s dreaming.

For years, she’s sent out letters inviting all of her friends to attend numerous affairs; grand openings, galas, holidays, even a simple meal. Most of the time, at least two of them would show up. Sometimes, if luck is on her side, three will appear at once. Never as many as today. Her and Terrick’s wedding ceremony was the last time she managed to persuade them all to come to the city, but even then Lae’zel was absent.

On occasion someone will pass through the Gate without having been directly invited, like when Astarion, Karlach, and Dammon showed up on her doorstep months prior. Although, that is an extremely rare occurrence. And again, never as many as today. She can’t help but wonder what prompted this mass visitation. Deep down, she knows (hopes) they care, but her intuition tells her this is no mere coincidence.

Despite Tav’s inner turmoil, the banter between her and Astarion comes as easily as it always has. His quips are semi-censored due to Callum’s presence, but other than that, it feels like old times. Well, that and the addition of the umbrella. She lets the nostalgia wrap around her like a warm blanket.

Not fifteen minutes into the journey home, Callum falls asleep. He’s nestled comfortably on her side with his cheek resting on her shoulder. Every few minutes Tav will turn her head away from the conversation to bury her nose in his hair or press a kiss to the crown of his head. Having her son so close helps stave off the negativity and paranoia, but it can only do so much.

Tav licks her lips. She might as well ask him now. Get it over with. “Astarion?”

He hums in reply. “Hm?”

She mentally braces herself. “How long will you be in Baldur’s Gate?”

Astarion keeps his voice nonchalant and his eyes trained on the path ahead. “Oh, you know, darling, just until the end of the month.”

Tav lets his words sink in for five long seconds. Then she gawks up at the vampire. “I’m sorry, did you say until the end of the month?”

He smirks, but still doesn’t look her way. “I did.”

“But—” She counts to herself, lightly tapping her fingers against Callum’s back. Then she counts again because that’s way too many days. Then once more for good measure. After checking, double and triple, she balks. “But that’s more than a tenday.”

He chuckles at her shock. “Yes. I’m aware. We rented our old suite at the Elfsong Tavern until—“

She halts in place. “We?” she parrots, voice bordering on shrill. “Who else is staying?”

Astarion internally smacks himself for the slip. Damn it all. He really needs to learn when to stop talking around the woman. “Don’t tell them I ruined the surprise, darling. The slash happy gith will take pleasure in gutting me if she found out.” She continues to stare up at him, waiting for him to elaborate. The vampire sighs. “All of us are staying for the remainder of the month. Even Halsin, Jaheira, and Minsc are supposed to pop in at some point.”

“Everyone will be in the city?” she presses. “Everyone everyone?”

He rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Yes, everyone everyone.”

The question slips out by accident. “Why?”

Astarion is taken aback and the mood is immediately soured. “What the hells do you mean why?”

Why are they here? What could have possibly brought them all together? Is there a new threat looming over them only she isn’t yet aware of? Is that why Gale suggested they spend the day together, to strategize? Is that why Halsin, Jaheira and Minsc will be joining up? Why are they here? She says none of this out loud. She says nothing at all.

He pulls his arm from her grip and takes a step back, exposing Tav to the sunlight. She winces at the sudden brightness. “You literally invited us. We’re here because you asked us to come.”

But why she wants to ask again. Why is this the one time they all decided to show up? Why now? Why not before? Why today? “I-I know that,” she stutters.

“Do you not want us here?” he accuses.

Her panic from earlier returns tenfold. “What? Of course I want you here!”

“Then what seems to be the problem?”

Yes, what is the problem? They’re here, aren’t they? That’s all Tav’s ever wanted. And yet she can’t ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that something’s amiss. “There’s no problem, none at all,” says the druid, but even she can hear the lie as it passes her lips.

A frown forms between his brow. “Really? It feels as though there is.”

“No, I …” Her desperation for answers is being misconstrued for annoyance. What was she supposed to say? If she keeps talking, it’ll only make things worse. “I …”

“You what?” he snaps. “I can go if my presence is such a burden.”

“Don’t!” She instinctively reaches out to grab him, but aborts the movement at the last second. “I’m sorry, Astarion.” And she’s confused and she’s tired and she deeply regrets starting this conversation. “I didn’t mean to come across as ungrateful. I am happy you’re here. I just …” She stops right as her voice is about to crack. Tav swallows the lump in her throat and tries again. “I miss you.” The back of her eyes sting. To hide the tears building in the corners, she lowers her gaze down and away.

When he sighs, his entire body softens. All the tension melts again and he’s left feeling guilty for losing his temper. “I miss you as well.”

A sinister voice hisses something wicked in her mind. Does he? If he misses Tav as much as he claims, why not visit more often? A much more cruel voice provides a bittersweet answer; because she did this to him. Because he doesn’t miss her at all. How could he after what she’d done? After condemning him to a life in the shadows. Who is she to shed tears when the fault is her own?

She tries to take a deep breath, to steady herself, but the weight of Callum, the tightness in her throat, and the corset of her dress are making such a task seem nigh impossible. It shudders and breaks, coming out more like a sob. She slaps a hand over her mouth, cursing herself for losing her composure. There are people all around them. If they aren’t already watching, they will if she starts openly sobbing.

A cool hand touches her shoulder. “Tav?” He says her name like it’s the most precious thing in the world. It makes her want to openly sob.

She shrugs off the appendage and turns away. “I’m fine.”

His blood red eyes bore into her back. He wants nothing more than to comfort her somehow, the way she used to comfort him and the rest of their friends, but he can’t bear her rejecting his aid a second time. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because I’m a mess,” she says through choked laughter.

“Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing is going on, Astarion.” But she can feel a tear trickle down her cheek. “Just go to the tavern. I’ll walk the rest of the way on my own.”

“Hold on—” Without thinking, his hand darts out to prevent a hasty retreat. However, he underestimates her speed, so his hand passes the outline of the darkness enchantment. “Fuck,” he growls when the sun burns his skin.

Tav spins back around, horrified. “Oh no. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—I didn’t know you’d—I’m so sorry.” Why couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut? Why couldn’t she just accept things at face value? If she had, he wouldn’t haven’t gotten hurt. It’s her fault. It’s all her fault. It’s all her fault. It’s all—

“We need to leave now.”

Without warning, his hand is on her back, pushing her forward. Tav doesn’t fight it, drowning in remorse for what just transpired. He’s not leading her up the main road anymore. They twist and turn down alleys and side streets until she finds them outside an decrepit building. He makes quick work on the lock, throws open the door, and all but shoves her in first. She hears the door shut and the lock click.

A fresh set of apologies are ready to spew out of her like vomit. “Astarion. I am so—“

He’s quick to cut her off with the swipe of a hand. “Stop. It wasn’t your fault.”

She looks at him as though he’s grown a second head. “Yes, it was. If I hadn’t tried to walk away, you wouldn’t have tried to stop me.”

“I was the one foolish enough to lunge after you in broad daylight,” he argues.

“You only lunged after me because I’m on the verge of tears.” She is no longer on the verge, she is in tears, fucking hells. “So let me apologize properly.”

“Alright then. As an apology, I want a godsdamn explanation for whatever this is.”

She shakes her head. “This is nothing. For the last time, I’m fine.”

He throws the umbrella onto the floor. It clatters onto the dusty floor. “I’d be more likely to believe you if you didn’t have twin tear tracks running down your face.” He closes the distance, leaving a foot of space between them. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She finally lets it explode out of her. “What’s wrong is that you abandoned me like everyone else in my life! And no matter how long you stay, you’re inevitably going to leave again!” Callum stirs in her arms. The little boy’s eyes flutter open and he mumbles something incomprehensible. Astarion backs off, giving Tav room to soothe him until he’s lulled back to sleep. She whispers sweet words of affirmation in his ear and bounces him like she used to when he was a baby.

It takes a few minutes until Callum is sound asleep again. Even then, the silence stretches on a little longer. Tav stands on one side of the room and Astarion stands near the middle, leaning against a ruined cushioned loveseat. They’re eyes are locked, expressions unreadable.

She breaks the silence first. “I miss you. I miss all of my friends. I hate being alone again.”

He cards his finger through his fine, white curls. “No one forced you to stay in Baldur’s Gate or told you to get married.” Most of them tried to convince her not to wed Terrick.

She frowns. “I didn’t have many other options.”

The vampire scoffs at that. “You could’ve left the city and not get married.”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere your heart desired.”

“The only place I want to be is with you—” Her cheeks burn with the confession, though it’s hard to distinguish with her face already flushed red from crying. “—or any of our friends.”

He pushes off the back of the chair to stand fully. “Then why didn’t you come with one of us?”

“No one wanted me to go with them.”

“What gave you that idea?”

She suddenly feels embarrassed and needs to look away again. “No one asked.”

One step forward. “I’m pretty sure any of our friends would’ve been thrilled to have you accompany them.”

“Any of our other friends, but not you.”

Another step. “And what gave you that idea?”

She narrows her eyes at him. “You know why.”

Two more steps. “Spell it out as if I don’t.”

Robby shuffles in place and adjusts her hold on Callum as a stalling tactic. By now, Astarion is standing right in front of her again. She’s too nervous to meet his eyes. “I’m the reason you’re stuck in the Underdark. It’s my fault you’re responsible for thousands of vampire spawn.” She pauses, debating whether she should say her next words. No, she will. “Stopping the ritual was the right thing to do and I don’t regret it. I would do it again, but … I also recognize you suffered for my decision. Why would you want the person who stuck you in that position around?”

Because he’s madly in love with her and nothing would make him happier than to have her by his side. “My life isn’t precisely as I imagined it would be, and yet I am still content with where I ended up.” As content as he can be without her there. “And you’re right. You would’ve been a reminder for the position I’m in; free and out of Cazador’s control.”

She finally feels brave enough to look into his eyes again. Unfortunately for her, the tears are back with a vengeance. “You don’t hate me, not even a little?”

He gently cups the side of her face and uses his thumb to brush away the fresh tears. She leans into his touch and thank the gods his heart doesn’t function properly or else she would’ve heard it pounding. A small smile finds its way on his lips. “No, not at all.” It’s quite the opposite.

“Then why do I see everyone, at most, twice a year?”

The smile turns wry. “Because we’re shit friends apparently.”

She grabs the wrist on the hand cupping her face. “And why is everyone suddenly so keen on staying in the city for more than two days when that’s never happened before?”

“We were trying to surprise you,” he says.

She gets that cute crinkle in her brow whenever she’s in disbelief. “That’s it?”

He shrugs. “That’s it.”

Tav’s eyes flicker between his, trying to determine if he’s speaking the truth. She so, so badly hopes he is. “You swear?”

He raises his right hand and draws an X on his chest. “Cross my heart, darling.”

And just like that, she relaxes. She releases the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and her shoulders droop. A few more tears leak out as she laughs. “Well, this is humiliating.”

His signature smirk is back in place. “I wont tell if you don’t.” He holds a finger up to his lips and winks. “I’d appreciate it if you pretended to be clueless about our long visit.”

Tav laughs some more. “Deal.”

“Deal.”

She pulls him into a one armed hug to seal the deal. “I’m sorry for being dramatic.”

He should be glad she’s moving past everything that just happened, but it breaks his heart that she’s taking the blame. However, it’s for the best that he leaves it be. “Melodrama is my thing.” He hugs her back. “But I forgive you.”

Being in his embrace feels right, feels safe. Tav pulls him in a little closer. “You know, Callum would love if you came by more often. It doesn’t have to be monthly, but once a season sounds fair.”

“Just Callum, eh?” he teases.

And she’s blushing again. “I wept over how much I missed you. It should go without saying that I also want to see you more often.”

“I could stand to hear you explicitly say—ow!”

Tav leans away and smacks him on the back. “Don’t be an ass, Astarion.”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Just trying to lighten the mood, Tav dear.” Even with her leaning away, she’s still so close. She’s right there. All he would have to do is lean forward and … “Why, I believe it’s about time we get you home.”

“Yes. Right.” She reluctantly takes a couple steps back. “Don’t forget the, uh …”

The vampire holds back a grimace. “The magical prop that prevents me from burning alive, I know.” He goes and picks up the umbrella with a loud huff. “Let’s try this again.” He saunters over to the door, opens it, and bows lowly. “Lead on.”

Tav comes over and hooks her arm with his. “Okay.”

And they were off.

…

“Why aren’t we killing the bastard again?”

Gale pinches the ridge of his nose. “Because he’s a public figure,” he deadpans.

Astarion matches his expression and rolls his eyes. “So was Gortash and we still killed him.”

“Gortash wasn’t married to our friend.”

The vampire shrugs. “Semantics.”

“Astarion,” Gale hisses.

“What?”

He is well on his way to a migraine. Astarion is a (mostly) trusted friend, but he’s a lot to deal with at best and downright incorrigible at worst. Tav was always the one to steer him in the right direction. “I think we can all agree in our distaste for Tav’s choice in spouse, but it’s a delicate situation.”

“Distaste,” he repeats mockingly. “I fucking hate the man.”

Gale sighs. “I concur.” Astarion opens his mouth, probably to say something smartass, so the wizards beat him to it. “But you agreed to stick with the plan. A plan that I believe will leave Tav and Callum unscathed.”

His eyes snap to the woman he loves across the room. She’s smiling, glowing, as she watches Karlach and Wyll entertain her son. She doesn’t deserve what that monster is doing to her. Terrick doesn’t deserve to continue living. If it was his choice, Astarion would slit the man’s throat and be done with it, but apparently the public needs evidence of his wrong doings. “Fine …”

“Thank you.”

“If he steps one foot out of line though, screw the plan.”

Gale chuckles darkly and pats him on the back. “I know.”

#bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #tavstarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #tav #vemaro

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my-deer-history · 9 months ago

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Francis Kinloch in Müller's letters to his family: Part 4

These extracts are from Johannes von Müller: Sämmtliche Werke, volume 7 (1810).

My translations here (with added paragraph breaks for legibility), original German transcriptions below the cut. This is the queerest part yet.

29 July 1776, to his father

The first cause of my silence, l. P.,* is that my regulated life really leaves me with little to write about; the other: that I am very busy. I read for a few hours with my friend, and that is almost the only time that I can devote to reading.

*For “lieber Papa”, “dear father”.

10 Oct 1776, to his father

You can guess the reason for my long silence, dearest father; when one is labouring on an important work, one becomes this work entirely; and in addition I finished a few more books with my friend Kinloch.

[...] A book seller from Neuchatel, Mrs B and I have convinced Mr B to put together a collection of his works. On account of this opportunity, he is working through all of them, and making additions and changes. Since he is not allowed to read himself, he wished to go through these writings with a friend who was already familiar with the contents. To that end, this summer we often read these and other writings for 2 – 3 hours a night in Mr Kinloch’s presence.

[...] My friend K is going to Italy. It is difficult; but the North American war and my work, which would be too disrupted, prevent me from accompanying him. This letter is not long enough to express to you how painful parting from him the day after tomorrow* will be for me.

[...] The loss of my friend makes me sad. Luckily, Kinloch is mine in every part of the world; our persons may be separated, but not our minds; I should care more about his perfection than about his presence; one day, in the long career that according to nature is open to us, we may well find ourselves together again**

*This places Kinloch’s departure for Italy on 12 October 1776.

**Original annotation: This friendship with Mr Kinloch remained unabated until Müller’s death. He received letters from him even in Cassel.

24 Dec 1776, to his brother

For myself, I seek nothing except that independence, which I consider to be the highest good of a human being, which I now enjoy, and will always enjoy through the generosity of my friend Kinloch and through the sciences.

Then I write my letters, rarely any others (except letters concerning business) besides those to my two friends, Bonstetten and Kinloch.

[...]Mr Kinloch sees Italy with the eyes of a man devoted to great occupations, with the sensitivity of a friend of antiquity and the fine arts. His letters are a diary of everything he sees, hears and feels. Through him and that other friend, I know Italy better than almost any other country.

April 1777, to his brother

When you wrote to him, I was in Lyon. My friend Kinloch, when he returned from Italy, wrote to me to find me at the lake below Genthod on a specific day, because he wanted to visit me; I however could not wait for him and took a cabriolet. I met him three hours from Geneva. He stayed with me for three or four days.

He strengthened his admiration for the monuments of the ancients when he saw them; his love of free government when he saw the current state of the nation and the constitution; and through everything, history, art and intercourse, he strengthened his noble desire for rightful fame and great virtues: and as he saw so many others, he learned to estimate my friendship even more highly. And it really seems to me that we loved each other ten times more during these few posts, and the purpose of our friendship is always our mutual perfection; nor does Kinloch want any other friend, and I do not want any others besides Bonstetten and him.

When he left Genthod and we had read and spoken a lot together, it was not possible for me to watch him go; so I went to Lyon. [...] I am never happier or healthier, nor do I think more clearly or feel more vividly, than when I am travelling; hence, I made a lot of observations and at the same time did a lot of work, both with my friend and after we left Lyon - at the same hour but by different routes - and I drove back.

I read everything to him that I had drafted about Switzerland over the winter, then we read several works by Juvenal with endless pleasure, from which I am also learning several parts by heart, and then we read about the countries that we had seen, besides many chapters from Montaigne, whose masterwork is the chapter on friendship*

*Michel de Montaigne’s famous essay De l’amitié (On friendship) was written after the death of his beloved friend Etienne de la Boétie. Montaigne posits that a person can only have very few - or even just one - true friends, a position based on his profoundly deep love for Boétie, whose death just four years into their acquaintance devastated him. Müller and Kinloch would have seen a close mirror of their own relationship in this, built as both were on intellectual pursuits and mutual self-improvement, and with a subtle but present homoromantic undertone. Read an English translation of the essay here, where Montaigne outs himself as team-Achilles-was-the-bottom.

4 Sept 1779, to his brother

It was with unspeakable pleasure that I received news from Kinloch a few days ago that, after feeling forced by mortal danger to take up arms for Carolina, he had distinguished himself so much as aide-de-camp in Georgia and Carolina under General Moultrie that, in a letter to the Congress, the general named him a very brave youth and the pride of his fatherland, and this was printed in the newspaper. This fame that my friends acquire is a powerful spur for me.

29 July 1776, to his father

Die erste Ursache meines langen Stillschweigens, l. P. ist, daß mein einförmiges Leben mir wirklich wenig zu schreiben darbietet; die andere: daß ich sehr beschäftiget bin. Ein paar Stunden lese ich mit meinem Freund, und das ist fast die einige Zeit, welche ich der Lecture widmen kann.

10 Oct 1776, to his father

Die Ursache meines langen Stillschweigens errathet ihr, liebster Papa; wenn man an einem wichtigen Werk arbeitet, so ist man ganz dieses Werkes; und denn vollendete ich mit meinem Freund Kinloch noch einige Bücher.

[...] Ein Buchhändler von Neufchatel, Frau B. und ich haben Herrn B. zu einer Sammlung seiner somtlichen Werke vermocht. Bei dieser Gelegenheit durchsieht er sie alle, und macht Zusäße und Veränderungen. Da er selbst nicht lesen darf, so wünschte er mit einem Freund diese Schriften zu durchgehen, dem zugleich der Inhalt geläufig wäre. Zu dem Ende haben wir diesen Sommer oft 2 – 3 Stunden des Abends diese und andere Schriften in Herrn Kinlochs Gegenwart gelesen.

[...] Mein Freund K. geht nach Italien. Es ist hart; aber der nordamerikanische Krieg und mein Werk, welches zu sehr unterbrochen worden wäre, verhindern mich ihn zu begleiten. Dieser Brief ist nicht lang genug, um Euch, auszudrücken, wie schmerzlich mir übermorgen dieser Abschied seyn wird.

[...] Der Verlust meines Freundes macht mich traurig. Zum Glück ist Kinloch in allen Welttheilen mein; unsere Personen mögen getrennt werden, aber nicht unsere Gemüther; seine Vervollkommnung soll mir mehr am Herzen liegen, als seine Gegenwart; endlich in der langen Laufbahn, welche der Natur nach uns offen ist, mögen wir uns wohl zusammen finden *..

* Diese Freundschaft mit Herrn Kinloch blieb ungeschwacht bis zu Müllers Tode. Er erhielt zu Cassel noch Briefe von ihm.

24 Dec 1776, to his brother

Für mich selbst suche ich nichts, als jene Unabhängigkeit, welche ich für das höchste Gut eines Menschen halte, deren ich nun genieße, und durch den Edelmuth meines Freundes Kinloch und durch die Wissenschaften allezeit genießen werde.

Alsdann schreibe ich meine Briefe, selten andere (außer Briefe die Geschäfte betreffen) als an meine zwei Freunde, Bonstetten und Kinloch.

[...]Herr Kinloch sieht Italien mit den Augen eines Mannes, der sich den großen Geschäften widmet, mit der Empfindlichkeit eines Freundes der Alten und der schönen Künste. Seine Briefe sind das Tagbuch alles dessen, was er sieht, hört und fühlt. Durch Ihn und jenen andern Freund kenne ich Italien genauer als fast kein anderes Land.

April 1777, to his brother

Als du ihn schriebest, war ich zu Lyon. Mein Freund Kinloch, als er aus Italien zurückkam, schrieb mir an einem gewissen Tag mich am See unter Genthod zu finden, weil er mich besuchen wolle; ich konnte ihn aber nicht erwarten und nahm ein Cabriolet. Drei Stunden von Genf traf ich ihn an. Drei oder vier Tage blieb er bei mir. Er hatte sich beim Anblick der Denkmale der Alten in der Bewunderung derselben, bei Ansicht des heutigen Zustandes der Nation und der Verfassungen in der Liebe freier Regierung, durch alles, Historie, Künste und Umgang in der edlen Begierde verdienten Ruhms und großer Tugenden bestärkt: auch da er so viele andere gesehen hatte, hatte er meine Freundschaft noch höher schätzen gelernt. Und es scheint mir würklich, wir haben einander zehnmal lieber gewonnen in diesen wenigen Lagen, und der Zweck unserer Freundschaft ist allezeit unsere wechselseitige Vervollkommnung; auch will Kinloch keinen andern Freund, ich will auch keinen außer Bonstetten und ihn. Als er Genthod verließ und wir vieles gelesen und gesprochen hatten, war mir nicht möglich, ihn abreisen zu sehen; also ging ich auf Lyon. [...] Niemals bin ich freudiger noch gesünder, auch denke ich nie heller noch empfinde lebhafter, als wann ich reise; daher ich eine Menge Beobachtungen gemacht und zugleich sowohl mit meinem Freund, als nachdem wir Lyon zu gleicher Stunde, aber auf verschiedenen Wegen, verlassen und ich zurückfuhr, sehr viel gearbeitet habe. Ihm las ich alles, was ich diesen Winter über die Schweiz abgefaßt hatte, dann lasen wir mit unendlichem Vergnügen verschiedene Stücke im Juvenalis, aus welchem ich auch mehreres auswendig lerne, und dann lasen wir über die Länder, die wir sahen, nebst vielen Kapiteln im Montaigne, dessen Meisterstück das Kapitel von der Freundschaft ist;

4 Sept 1779, to his brother

Vor wenigen Tagen habe ich mit unsäglichem Vergnügen von Kinloch Nachricht bekommen, daß, nachdem er sich durch Lebensgefahr gezwungen gesehen, für Carolina die Waffen zu ergreifen, er unter General Moultrie als Aide de Camp in Georgien und Carolina sich so sehr ausgezeichnet, daß er von dem Feldherrn in einem Brief an den Congreß ein sehr tapferer Jüngling und eine Ehre seines Vaterlandes genannt worden ist, welches gedruckt worden. Dieser Ruhm, den meine Freunde erwerben, ist für mich ein gewaltiger Sporn.

4 Sept 1779, to his brother

#francis kinloch #johannes von müller #michel de montaigne #18th century history #queer history #amrev

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filhadoboto · 16 days ago

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The chosen one

Summary: During the reading of his mother's will, Aleksander Morozov discovers that, so that his inheritance does not end up in the hands of his hated cousin Malyen Oretsev, he will have to get married within a year.

AO3

chapter 1

Chapter 2 - The suitors - part 1

The next day, Aleksander woke up with a horrible hangover that made him promise himself never to overindulge in alcohol so much again and that almost made him regret having drunk the night before. Almost, because the decision he had made drunk seemed even more right when he was sober.

As he prepared for the day, he retraced the paths his inebriated brain had taken to arrive at the drastic decision of the night before and realized that he had made the right decision and that he would move forward.

After lunch, he considered whether he should write to his sister informing her about what had happened at the reading of the will, about his decision and asking her opinion or would he wait for her return and tell her everything in person. His sister had returned to Os Kervo a few days after their mother's burial to take care of some unfinished personal matters, as she had come to the Little Palace in a hurry as soon as she was informed of Baghra's death.

He decided to write to her explaining everything that had happened during the reading of the will, talking about the absurd clause left by their mother and the consequences if he didn't obey and the fact that her name had not even been mentioned in the will. He knew his sister well enough to know that Ulla wouldn't be surprised by any of those facts. He also knew that, when he informed her of his decision, Ulla would not only support him, but she would make a point of burning down the Little Palace alongside him and sing a beautiful and lively song while everything burned and the two of them warmed themselves by the flames.

However, before he could write, a letter arrived from his sister informing him that she would be detained at Os Kervo longer than she expected and that he should expect her arrival within a week. So, he decided not to wait for her arrival and wrote her a long and detailed account of everything that had happened and everything he needed her to know, in addition to listing the names of the suitors that his mother had left for him.

His sister's response came two days later and he felt confident in his decision when he read her words: My dear brother, do it!

He smiled as he read the part where she happily expressed that she made a point of being by his side when the flames engulfed the Little Palace and reduced the Morozov family's ancestral home to ashes. Ulla not only agreed to his plan to live off the profits from his investments but also expressed her enthusiasm to go and live in Novyi Zem if he found it necessary. He already expected that she would like the idea of going to live in another country, since since they were children they had both dreamed of traveling, of seeing the world that they knew only through books and the stories told by those who had the opportunity to know it. And about the list of suitors left by their mother, she commented: Aleksander, I would lose all the respect I have for you, my beloved brother, if you chose any of them!

She had also approved of Aleksander's idea of enjoying the family fortune and properties for whatever time he had left and said she would do the same.

He would say goodbye to everything little by little. He would say goodbye to his horses. He would say goodbye to the fields he had ridden almost all his life. He would say goodbye to the old oak tree that was his favorite hiding place and the place he went when he needed to think or simply get away from his mother's orders and demands. Little by little, he and his sister would pull out their roots from the land where they were born so they could leave and start their lives again somewhere else.

---

Aleksander dismounted his horse and tied it near the entrance gate to the deserted cemetery. He calmly walked between the tombstones and found his mother's grave with ease.

Baghra's death was sudden. The two of them had spent two weeks in the capital and, as his mother didn't like Os Alta, they had left the city right after the winter fête. Aleksander was paying a visit to his tenants when one of the employees found him to tell him that his mother had suffered an accident. He rode as quickly as possible back and when he arrived at the Little Palace, his mother was already being examined by Fedyor Kaminsky, the family physician who resided in Kirbrisk.

While waiting for the physician to finish examining her, Mrs. Stepanova, the housekeeper informed him that one of the maids had found Baghra unconscious at the foot of the stairs and she was still unconscious when Fedyor arrived. His mother had been walking with the aid of a cane for some years and he deduced that she had lost her balance and fallen.

When he saw Fedyor's expression when he left his mother's room, he knew that the physician had bad news to deliver. Fedyor explained to him that it had been her heart and that when he arrived there was nothing more to be done for her.

After recovering from the shock, Aleksander ordered one of the servants to go to Os Kervo to inform his sister immediately and to assist her with the journey if she wanted to go home. Then he entered his mother's room slowly and sat down on a chair next to the bed. Her body was still warm and she seemed to be just asleep.

Ulla found him there hours later, as Aleksander had not allowed himself to leave his mother's side. She hugged him and they both sat there in silence for a few minutes and then she took him out of the room so their mother's body could be prepared for burial. Fortunately, Mrs. Stepanova, with the help of the butler, Mr. Yaroslav Sokolov and Ivan, made all the necessary arrangements for the burial and also took it upon themselves to inform other family members, neighbors and closest friends about what had happened.

It was only after the burial that Aleksander was informed by Ivan about the people who should be at the reading of the will and that he had already taken the necessary measures for this. Then the will was read, Aleksander had made his decision and now he stood there at his mother's grave.

For a few seconds he stood watching the freshly disturbed earth as if he expected that, at any second, his mother would rise from her own grave like a hungry upir from the old stories he loved to hear as a child to feed on him.

Anyone who saw him at that moment would deduce that he was a longing son devastated by the abrupt and recent loss of his beloved mother. Not even the person with the most fertile imagination could imagine the real reason for his visit.

“I came here to inform you that I will not fulfill your last wish, mama.” he began in a solemn tone, appropriate to the place and time, “I know you were used to controlling the lives of your children, and although your ploy to force me to marry a woman approved by you was quite ingenious, I came here to inform you that it didn't work. It was very clever of you to use my hatred for Malyen and my love for Ulla to force me to do your last will. Perhaps a more ambitious man than me or a more loving son would not hesitate or revolt at the request and would happily even choose his wife from the list left by his mother.”

He paused to take a deep breath before continuing, “Yes, I hate Malyen and yes, I love Ulla and I care about her future, but you didn't take into consideration that my desire to thwart your plans for my life would be greater than my fear of living in poverty or greater than my desire not to see my inheritance ending up in the hands of the person I hate most.”

Aleksander squatted beside the grave and added “I imagine that, when you formulated that clause and included it in your will, you must have thought that you had set an inevitable and inescapable trap for me. But you were wrong. Not only will I not marry any of those women on your list, I will set the Little Palace on fire when the deadline runs out with Ulla's help. Then we will both start a new life free from your ghost and I dare say we will be very happy.”

He looked around him and saw several of the tombstones of other members of the Morozov family: his father, his grandfather, his grandmother. There were centuries of ancestors buried there, and most likely neither he nor Ulla would join them.

“I hope you are happy and satisfied with the consequences of your latest attempt to manipulate me. The son of the sister you hated your whole life will inherit your legacy and your children, who you worked so hard to make like you, will start their own legacies. And when Ulla or I decide to get married, it will be with people chosen by us. People who, I'm sure, would never be approved or accepted by you.”

Then he placed the bouquet of wildflowers he had brought with him on the grave and stood up before saying, “Goodbye, madraya.” and he left.

---

As expected, Ulla arrived at the Little Palace a week later and the two were able to talk in more detail about everything that had happened. Aleksander took the opportunity to tell his sister about his investments and that he was fully convinced they could live comfortably on the income.

He felt especially comforted reading letters of condolence from those closest to him and for whom he had great affection and respect. His replies were written in a tone as sincere and affectionate as the letters that had been sent to him had been written. And he assured them that he and his sister were fine and that they didn't need to worry about them.

Aleksander spent more time than he would have liked responding to letters of condolence, but as much as it tired and displeased him, it was what had to be done. Ulla tried hard to help him and, for her, who had had an even worse relationship with their mother than he had, this activity was even more unpleasant.

But unlike his sister, he wasn't just having to respond to letters of condolence. There were also requests for him to receive, as soon as possible, a visit from some families or to grant them the honor of being visited by him. As the heir to one of Ravka's oldest and wealthiest families and with the news that he needed to be married by early next spring if he wanted to remain the heir, he already expected this to happen. Some letters were more emphatic, more direct and their senders had no qualms about citing the clause in his mother's will as the reason for the visit and tried to convince him that their daughters, nieces, granddaughters and protégés were the right choice for him.

The first suitor to pay him a visit was Elizaveta Medvedeva in May. About a month after the will was read, she arrived at Little Palace, accompanied by her parents. Her father, Count Leonid Medvedev, had written him several letters since learning of his mother's death, always emphasizing the fact that Aleksander could count on him and his family for anything and that they saw and cherished him as someone in the family.

Aleksander and Elizaveta, as well as her two older brothers Grigori and Juris, knew each other since childhood, as their parents were great friends with Baghra and they had the desire to bring their families together since before their birth. Grigori and Juris were already married and therefore could not marry Ulla, but Aleksander had no doubt that Elizaveta's parents hoped that he would honor his mother's wishes and choose their daughter to be his wife.

Elizaveta was, undeniably, a beautiful woman. Her golden hair shone like gold in the sunlight, nothing escaped her observant and intelligent brown eyes and the girl always smelled of some kind of flower, especially roses. Being around her was like being in a flowering garden, her mellifluous voice was captivating and she was intelligent enough to know which subject most interested her interlocutor and what to say on each occasion. She was so good at manipulating people that she could even make them change their mind about which colors were their favorite.

It was difficult to meet Elizaveta and not be enchanted, but he was immune to her charm and the fact that she had developed a kind of obsessive admiration for him made him uneasy and, at times, even disgusted him.

At his request, Ulla postponed her return to the family home in Os Kervo until after the Medvedev family's departure. The two did their best to entertain the visitors, but due to the recent death of the family matriarch, they understood the prolonged silences and the fact that the siblings preferred to be more reclusive than participate in long conversations. To the family's credit it must be said that they did their best to lift the siblings' spirits and keep them distracted from their grief.

Elizaveta didn't miss a single opportunity to be close to him or to try to impress him or try to talk to him about any topic. She practically followed him everywhere, whether with her eyes or her legs. Ulla enjoyed watching his torment, but always tried to convince Elizaveta to join her in her activities.

After discovering that Aleksander used to spend the hours before going to sleep reading in the library, Elizaveta started doing the same. And he wouldn't have minded the company if it weren't for the irritating fact that, instead of choosing a title and sitting down to read it, she sat watching him and that caused him great discomfort.

During the two weeks that the Medvedev family stayed at the Little Palace Aleksander did not sleep in the same room twice. He had already attended court enough to hear about the most varied tactics and tricks used by men and women to secure a highly desired marriage. And he knew that Elizaveta was obsessed with him enough to try to sneak into his bed with the intention of seducing him, try to fake a flagrant of them by her parents and, thus, guarantee that he would marry her.

On the eighth night, his suspicions proved true. Ulla, who was amused by her brother's situation, had agreed to sleep in his rooms and, in the middle of the night, a very excited Elizaveta had entered the rooms and got under Ulla's sheets. The next morning, when his sister told him what had happened and how Elizaveta had been surprised and embarrassed that it was her and not him in bed, they both ended up laughing. Ulla thought that Elizaveta would not try again, but he preferred not to risk it and decided to continue with his current scheme until her departure.

It was only on the penultimate day of visit that Count Medvedev asked to speak with him privately. The two met in his study and the Count reminded Aleksander about the desire that he and his mother had to unite their families through marriage between him and Elizaveta and that, due to the clause in his mother's will, that was the most opportune moment for the wishes of both families to be fulfilled.

Aleksander listened to him without saying a word. Afterwards, when Count Medvedev seemed to have said everything he wanted, Aleksander told him that, since he had never made any commitment to Elizaveta, he had no intention of carrying out his mother's wishes and also had no interest in marrying his daughter. The Count was not at all pleased with his refusal and pointed out that Aleksander would never find a girl more suitable to be his wife than Elizaveta.

The Medvedev family's last day at the Little Palace was spent in resentful silence, but they maintained politeness and civility at mealtimes. Elizaveta did not seem at all willing to accept his refusal, but he gently declined any attempt by her to get closer to him.

As soon as the carriage with Elizaveta and her parents left the next day, he allowed himself a sigh of relief. This would not be the only family with an unmarried daughter who would pay him a visit or invite him to visit, and as soon as the news spread that he had refused Elizaveta's hand, it would raise the hopes of the others. And it would even make people deduce that he already had a chosen one in mind.

Ulla left him a few hours later with a promise to write to him daily and that she would return to spend the summer at the Little Palace with him.

However, his relief at Elizaveta's departure didn't last more than a couple of hours. The arrival of the morning mail brought a letter from Viscount Nazialesnky informing him of his arrival with his wife and daughter in three days with the pretext of offering him comfort and company after the sudden loss of his mother.

Although it was expected due to the good relationship his family always had with the Nazialesnky family and many others, he was feeling suffocated. It was expected that the families closest to his would offer him condolences and even their company, but he knew that this kindness had a double intention, as did the visit from Elizaveta's family.

Aleksander felt cornered as if he were an animal being hunted by a huge pack of hounds. He needed to get out of that house and breathe and clear his thoughts. Almost by instinct, his feet carried him to the stable and a short time later he was riding out the doors on his favorite horse. The horse knew his habits and soon he found himself arriving at the old oak tree that he and his sister liked to go to play when they were children and also to hide from their mother.

He left the horse untied so it could graze, and, alone in his refuge, Aleksander thought carefully and, for the next hour, planned what he would do when he lost his inheritance. It was the sound of his hungry stomach that forced him to ride back home.

Upon arriving back at the stable and dismounting he noticed the presence of an unknown person entering the stall of one of the horses. Neither the coachman nor the grooms were around and he found it strange. He didn't like strangers unaccompanied by a Little Palace employee coming in there, much less approaching the animals, and he went to where the person was with the intention of finding out who they were, only to discover that it was a girl he had never seen before.

“Can I help you, Miss?” he asked in a more stern tone than he intended.

With a start, she turned toward him and her eyes met his, and whatever he had to say to her stuck in his throat. She was small but had a beautiful figure and tanned skin. His eyes roamed over her face, her flushed cheeks, her wavy brown hair that matched the color of her eyes and he couldn't help but notice that she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen.

She came out of the stall of the mare she had been talking to and petting, bowed deeply and gave him a shy smile before replying “Forgive my intrusion, Your Excellency. My name is Alina Starkova and I'm here for the maid position. Mrs. Stepanova went into town to take care of some business and her son, Alexei Stepanov, said I could look at the property while I waited for her return.”

Only then did he remember that he had given permission for his housekeeper to hire someone else to help with the housework. Recently one of the maids had married one of the sons of one of the tenant farmers and had left her job at the Little Palace to dedicate herself to her own family.

At that moment, Alexei himself appeared at the stable door and went up to them.

“Your Excellency!” he said, giving him a slight bow and offering him a friendly smile that Aleksander didn't hesitate to return.

Alexei was Mrs. Stepanova's youngest son and was a great artist. Thanks to Aleksander's intervention and sponsorship, Alexei was able to secure a position as an apprentice to one of the country's leading art restorers. Aleksander wanted the young man to be employed at the Little Palace when his apprenticeship ended and become responsible for taking care of the hundreds of works of art there. But now that he planned to burn everything down, Alexei would have to find another position. The best Aleksander could do was recommend him to the people he knew.

“I am so sorry for your recent loss, Your Grace. Your mother was a great woman and she will be missed by everyone who had the pleasure of knowing her.” added Alexei with a solemn and sincere tone.

Aleksander nodded his thanks and said in a friendlier tone than he had used with the girl “Alexei, I didn't know you'd be visiting! Your dear mother will be very happy to see you, I have no doubt. When did you arrive?”

“About half an hour ago, and unfortunately, I’m not here to visit.” he replied “My mother told me in one of her most recent letters that she needed help at the Little Palace and I recommended Miss Starkova to her.” and he looked at the girl before adding “Then my mother responded by accepting my recommendation and asking Miss Starkov to come here as quickly as possible. I made sure to bring her here in person and take the opportunity to see my dear mother.”

Aleksander nodded and cast a quick glance in the direction of the girl who was watching them closely.

“Come talk to me after you’ve settled in. I’m curious to hear about your training progress.” he instructed.

Alexei gave him a bright smile and said “It would be a pleasure, Your Grace.”

He gave the two a nod in farewell, and as he slowly walked towards the exit, he heard the boy ask, “Tell me, my dear friend, what do you think of the Little Palace so far?”

“It’s much more beautiful than I imagined!” she replied in an enthusiastic tone and Aleksander unconsciously smiled.

If there was one thing that predisposed him favorably towards someone, it was hearing them praise the Little Palace.

---

At his invitation, Alexei had dinner with him that night.

In addition to talking about the advancement of his learning as a restorer's apprentice, he also told him about the new maid. Alexei began by saying that he considered Alina to be one of the most trustworthy and loyal people he knew and that he viewed her as a sister.

The girl had been an orphan since the age of eight and had grown up in an orphanage sponsored by Duke Keramsov in Keramzin. Alexei had met her two years ago when he had accompanied his master on a job for Duke Keramsov and they had corresponded after the job was finished.

According to him, Alina demonstrated not only interest but also artistic talent and absorbed from him and his master every bit of knowledge they gave her. And although this was her first job in a family home, Alina had experience having helped with the domestic work at the orphanage for years.

For Aleksander, Alexei's recommendation was enough and, if Mrs. Stepanova also approved her, she could stay.

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john-laurens · 8 months ago

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When he [Kinloch] noticed that his friend's [Müller's] stay in Tronchin's house had become unpleasant, he offered to live with him for an indefinite period of time in order to be able to make the most of the instructive interaction with his well-read and intelligent friend. Müller's closest friends, Bonstetten, Bonnet, even Tronchin, approved the idea, and so the two young men, brought together by mutual inclination and common striving, began their summer plan on May 1, 1775. Kinloch had rented a small country house with six rooms in the village of Chambésy on the right bank of Lake Geneva, an easy hour from the city, halfway between Geneva and Versoix, one of the advantages of which was its short distance from Bonnet's estate. In addition, all the English people with whom Müller liked to socialize so much lived on this side of the lake. He felt very happy here for a long time. He wrote to Captain Peyer about the timing of the summer plan: "At 5 o'clock my friend rides into town and listens to physics. After I have worked on Swiss history, we have our breakfast at 8 a.m., during which we read Mr. Bonstetten's letters or a pleasant French writer. At 9 a.m. we study the spirit of the laws together. From 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. my friend deals with English laws, I study either national history or other sciences. I'm so happy with it that I haven't read a book about it for many months, but only unprinted documents about it. At 1 o'clock we almost always read Tacitum, the Roman Montesquieu. We eat at 2 o'clock. At 3 o'clock we read or walk or entertain or visit until 9 o'clock, when we dine at night. Busy with perfecting ourselves on both sides, we are each other's keen censors, correcting as much the mistakes we make in society and manners as those we make in reasoning. We have also invented certain words which we alone understand and which we use as a warning to one another when we notice that one of our discourses is not pleasant enough for those we deal with. If science, friendship, health, pure air, good table, good company and good conscience, not lacking funds, are the main elements of human happiness, then I am currently enjoying the most perfect one and all the more fondly because Kinloch shares them with me."

From Johannes von Müller, 1752-1809, Volume 1 by Karl Henking

The original text was in German/French/Latin and was translated with Google Translate (original below).

The fact that Kinloch and Müller developed secret code words is interesting. It sounds like they used it to discreetly correct or advise each other when in the company of others, but I wonder if they ever used it to navigate discussions of sexuality.

Als er bemerkt hatte, daß seinem Freunde der Aufenthalt im Hause Tronchins unangenehm geworden war, bot er ihm an, auf unbestimmte Zeit mit ihm zusammenzuleben, um den belehrenden Umgang mit dem belesenen und geistvollen Freund umso gründlicher ausnüßen zu können. Die nächsten Freunde Müllers, Bonstetten, Bonnet, selbst Tronchin billigten den Gedanken, und so fingen denn die beiden durch gegenseitige Neigung und gemeinsames Streben zusammengeführten Jünglinge am 1. Mai 1775 ihren Sommerplan“ an. Kinloch hatte im Dorfe Chambésy über dem rechten Ufer des Genfersees, eine leichte Stunde von der Stadt entfernt, halbwegs zwischen Genf und Versoix, ein kleines Landhaus mit sechs Zimmern gemietet, zu dessen Vorzügen auch die geringe Entfernung vom Landgute Bonnets gehörte. Zudem wohnten auf dieser Seite des Sees alle Engländer, mit denen Müller so gern verkehrte. Hier fühlte er sich nun auf längere Zeit wirklich glücklich. Über die Zeiteinteilung des Sommerplanes“ schrieb er an Hauptmann Peyer: „Um 5 Uhr reitet mein Freund in die Stadt und hört Physik. Nachdem ich indeß über die Schweizerhistorie gearbeitet, nehmen wir um 8 Uhr unser Dejeuner, unter welchem wir des Herrn v. Bonstetten Briefe oder einen angenemen französischen Schriftsteller lesen. Um 9 Uhr studieren wir miteinander den esprit des loix. Von 11-1 Uhr beschäftigt sich mein Freund mit den englischen Gesezen, ich studier entweder die vaterländische Geschichte oder andere Wissenschaften. Mit jener bin ich so glücklich, daß ich seit vielen Monaten kein Buch, sondern lauter ungedruckte Urkunden darüber gelesen habe. Um 1 Uhr lesen wir fast immer Tacitum, den römischen Montesquieu. Um 2 Uhr speisen wir. Um 3 Uhr lesen oder spazieren wir oder empfangen oder besuchen wir und das bis 9 Uhr, da wir zu Nacht speisen. Beschäftiget, uns beiderseitig zu vervollkommnen, sind wir einer des andern scharfer Censor und verbessern ebensowohl diese Fehler, welche wir in Gesellschaften und Manieren, als die, welche wir im Raisonnement machen. Wir haben auch gewisse Worte erfunden, welche wir allein verstehen und einander zur Warnung aussprechen, wenn wir bemerken, daß einer unserer Discurse denen, mit welchen wir umgehen, nicht angenem genug ist. Wenn Wissenschaften, Freundschaft, Gesundheit, reine Luft, gute Tafel, gute Gesellschaft und gutes Gewissen, non deficiente crumena, Hauptstücke der menschlichen Glückseligkeit sind, so genieße ich gegenwärtig der vollkommensten und desto lieber, da Kinloch sie mit mir theilt."

#Can't believe Kinloch and Müller invented Polari (joking)#Francis Kinloch #Johannes von Müller #Johannes von Muller #quote #Charles Victor de Bonstetten #Charles Bonnet

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hadassahriv · 1 year ago

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Fic Master List: TWEWY

I always feel like everyone who might be interested in my fics has already seen them. But then every once in a while I get new readers who leave wonderful comments, so that is clearly not the case. Everything is housed on AO3, clearly labelled, but this is the master list of my TWEWY fics to date.

Fate and Other Impossibilities (105,596 words) Chapters: 35/35 Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya/Sakuraba Neku Characters: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya, Sakuraba Neku, Misaki Shiki, Bito "Beat" Daisukenojo, Bito "Rhyme" Raimu, Hanekoma Sanae, Kanade Rindo, Mikagi "Haz" Hazuki, Sakurane Shoka, Furesawa "Fret" Tosai, Usui Nagi Additional Tags: Post-Game(s), Canon Compliant, Conductor Sakuraba Neku, Developing Relationship Summary: Neku's never wanted to be special. He just wants to be. After three years in Shinjuku, that may no longer be possible.

Notes: My love letter to TWEWY and the first fic I wrote after almost 10 years out of fandom. In May 2021, I heard that a TWEWY sequel was coming, so I replayed Final Remix and then, naturally, played Neo. And after beating the game, I really wanted a story that didn't exist. I actually did not originally intend to release it at all, but a few chapters in decided I might as well. And two years later, here we are!

The Life and Death of Joshua Kiryu (3,274 words) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya/Sakuraba Neku Characters: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya, Sakuraba Neku, Hanekoma Sanae Additional Tags: character backstory, Non-Linear Narrative, Established Relationship, pre- and post-canon, Canon-Typical Talk of Death and Dying Summary: There once was a boy named Yoshiya Kiryu. He died, and then his life began. - Joshua before, during, and after Fate and Other Impossibilities.

Notes: I've written a couple of additional fics within the Fate continuity and this is my non-linear, heavily stylized Joshua piece, highlighting different moments in his life and afterlife. You could read it standalone, but it will be better with context.

Being there together is enough (6,303 words) Chapters: 2/2 Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya/Sakuraba Neku, Eri/Misaki Shiki Characters: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya, Sakuraba Neku, Misaki Shiki, Bito "Beat" Daisukenojo, Bito "Rhyme" Raimu, Kanade Rindo, Furesawa "Fret" Tosai, Usui Nagi, Sakurane Shoka Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Sequel, Weddings, Romance Summary: Wedding parties, old friends, and happy endings to go around. Sometimes everyone really does get the life they deserve. - Or: six years later

Notes: The third fic set within the Fate continuity. This is the happy ending sequel, light and frothy, and it will be more emotionally satisfying if you have read the story it follows. But I am not here to tell anyone what to do.

Unreal Cities (16,550 words) Chapters: 4/22 Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya/Sakuraba Neku Characters: Sakuraba Neku, Kiryu "Joshua" Yoshiya, Misaki Shiki, Bito "Beat" Daisukenojo, Bito "Rhyme" Raimu, Kanade Rindo, Furesawa "Fret" Tosai, Mikagi "Haz" Hazuki, Usui Nagi, Kariya Koki, Yashiro Uzuki, Hanekoma Sanae Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, Conductor Sakuraba Neku, Post-Canon Summary: Three years is a long time to be dead, trapped in an endless loop of a city's final days and trying to understand what happened to it. No one told Neku that going back to his own life would be the hard part.

Notes: And here is my current ongoing fic! Slight canon divergence, rooted in a different take on the Shinjuku years. Eventual Conductor Neku, because that's my niche, but it's a different kind of story than Fate. Updating twice a month, if you want to come along for the ride!

#twewy #the world ends with you #joshneku #fics by lelek #twewy fic

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zee-has-commitment-issues · 11 months ago

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I'm 100% stealing this from @pagegirlintraining

AO3 wrapped (writer’s edition)

I had a long year, so I didn't get to write as much as I would have liked to, but we still got a ton done.

1. How many words have you written this year? 180,453 words.

2. How many works did you publish this year? Somehow the answer is eleven.

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)? Reckless Abandon. Hands down. It took so much time to plan and so much energy to write and I am so proud of it. I'm writing the ending of the first draft right now and I'm sad to leave it behind.

HOWEVER I also very much enjoyed The Last Time, which is my Nilcent fic. I think just in terms of quality, this is one of my most beautifully written fics.

4. What work of yours has the most hits? The fics I have with the most hits is Reckless Abandon, but I think that's because it's the only one from this year that had more than one chapter.

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected? Dress Up As ! I wrote that in like 30 minutes while half asleep and then didn't edit it, so I didn't think anyone would read it at all lol. It's not my most popular fic by any means, but more people read it than I thought would.

6. Favorite title you used? Wilhelm's Frog Addiction because it's so ridiculous. It implies that Wilhelm needs a rehab for frogs, and I think that's great.

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most? I used the title of The Last Time from a Taylor Swift song, but I think that was the only one.

8. Pairing you wrote the most for this year? Wilhelm/Simon Eriksson with 9 out of 11 fics being about them or containing them in some way. (damn thats an unfortunate statistic)

9. Favorite pairing you wrote for this year? Obviously Wilmon. I feel like that's a given at this point.

10. What work was the quickest to write? Dress Up As... again, I wrote it in 30 minutes while half asleep💀

11. What work took you the longest to write? If we rule out the one that's multi-chapter for fairness sake, then the fic that took me the longest to write was probably Not Entirely Screwed (But Almost). But take that with a grain of salt.

12. How many WIPs do you have in your docs for next year? Two or three that I actually plan on finishing. I have others that are started, but I don't know if I have enough plot to actually get through them.

13. What’s your longest work of the year? Reckless Abandon, containing 123k of my 180k words this year 💀

14. What’s your shortest work of the year? A Fool Proof Guide - 507 words.

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you? Finishing Reckless Abandon! One chapter to edit and an epilogue to finish writing, and then it's done. I just can't finish it in the two days I have left of the year 😭

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag? Simon Eriksson Loves Wilhelm, followed by Wilhelm Loves Simon Eriksson

17. Your favorite character to write this year? I simply cannot answer this. My mind has been so consumed with Reckless Abandon and the switching POVs that I literally cannot choose one.

18. What’s one pairing you want to explore next year? I think I might like to write more of Felice's platonic pairings next year. I feel like I neglect her because I don't really ship her with anyone.

19. Which work of yours have you reread the most? The Thing In The Mirror. It's kind of a love letter to my grief, so sometimes I go back and read it when I'm feeling down.

20. How many kudos in total did you get this year? 2,754

21. Which work has the most comments? Reckless Abandon, but again, it's the only one with more than one chapter so that makes sense.

22. Did you do any collaborative works this year? Not this year! Maybe next year. Dani and I don't write "together" per se, but we do bounce a lot of ideas off each other, so if that counts then yes, but nothing plotted and written and posted together.

23. Did you write any gifts this year? I did! I wrote for YR Week, which wasn't a gift, but an event. And I wrote a Christmas gift for Nic!

24. Did you receive any gifts this year? Yes yes yes! A beautiful, perfect Christmas gift from @pagegirlintraining I enjoyed every word of it.

25. What’s your most common category? M/M

26. What do you listen to while writing? Not much, actually. I have the Reckless Abandon Playlist, but I only really used that when outlining.

27. Favorite work you wrote this year? For the sake of not repeating myself, out off the ones I haven't mentioned yet, Isn't That Your Thing? and Patience Is A Virtue are my favorite little crack fics.

28. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? Oh jesus, that's impossible. I don't think I can choose just one. I can give you one that makes me think "holy shit I can write" though:

This piece of work — the one staring Stella in the face — was a revolution made of oil paint.

29. Biggest surprise while writing this year? I can write smut. And people don't hate it somehow.

Thank y'all for a fun year. Can't wait to see what my brain does to torture us all in the next one.

#ao3 #ao3 author wrapped

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watercolor-hearts · 2 months ago

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[Tw: homophobia and transphobia by a university teacher. Mentions of violence.]

What the fuck has just happened?! What the fuck?! I'm really really disappointed. Homophobia and transphobia at it's finest by a teacher of mine I really liked until this point.

At some point when I left the building to go back to the other one for my laptop charger he came with me and asked whether the two girls who always hang out together were lesbians. I didn't know who he was talking about so I said "I don't know" and left.

Later, towards the end of the lesson I asked how to do the gold/silver print for the die cut template of the packaging we're making and somehow while he showed me and some other students old works with examples lesbians came into the picture and he said he's had lesbian students (disgust on his face and in his tone) and he always hopes they'd grow it out. (Me, a lesbian, standing behind him, trying really hard to keep my mouth shut...)

This wasn't the worst part because then he continued with telling us that what's even worse is people who want to change genders. Because there was one student of his in the past who was trans and asked the teacher to call him on his chosen name and not on the name that's in his papers because he's not [deadname] but [chosen name]. The teacher couldn't understand it so he went to ask his boss about it and he told him to call the student on the name that's in the papers.

And then he continued with telling us how he had had to listen to him talking about getting his uterus taken out and breats chopped off and things like that and he then said that he thinks the only problem this student had was that nobody hugged him and told him it was gonna be alright. (Like it fucking solves everything for trans people for fuck's sake... At this point I started getting really fucking angry.)

And then he said that a few years later he met this student again, he has already transitioned by that time and was "obese because of the hormones" (my teachers words) and the teacher claimed he could see the regret, the "I've fucked up" in the guy's eyes. (There was also a really strong fat phobia in addition...)

And what was the moment when I felt like I was going to be sick is when he said he'd "cut the troat of people who turn innocent souls into people who wants to change their gender".

I really really wanted to ask whether he knows anything about transgender people but I don't like conflicts so I kept my mouth shout but I almost started crying because 1) I have a transgender friend with whom I'm really close with and means the world to me, 2) I'm a lesbian but (I think) he doesn't know, 3) he's the teacher I liked the most and I wanted to ask him to be my thesis conusltant because I wanted to choose packaging design as the topic but after this I'm really not sure.

The disgust in his voice he talked about these things with was really really surprising and disappointing to me. But I guess it shouldn't have been because we're talking about a really homophobic and transphobic country. But still, I think he should've kept his personal opinion to himself especially because he doesn't know how many LGBTQ people there are in this class. (I guess he knows about one because there's a guy who's "stereotypical" gay and it's easy to notice and he talked about him after the guy left, but yeah, he's not the only one in the class...)

This is the first time I've thought about writing a letter to the dean about a teacher's behavior but as I said I live in a really homophobic and transphobic country so I don't think a lot of things would change or if the dean would even care. And also, last year someone probably from our class wrote an e-mail about the same teacher to the dean but the topic was the way he talks (lots of swear words and vulgar things) and the teacher was really angry after and I don't want to cause problems and bad atmosphere. I always choose peace and suffering in silence and I know it's not a good thing to do but I'm not strong enough to go against a teacher or a whole university.

But this hurts because it was proper fucking homo and transphobia in an art class for fuck's sake. Everybody knows that in art-related classes there are always (more) non-straight people (than there are in other classes) and you just can't talk about LGBTQ people the way he did.

He says he hopes lesbians will grow it out. He says trans people are trans because they don't get enough hugs and "everything's gonna be alright"s and that it works in a way that people turn people trans... I just... I just can't...

#tw transphobia #tw homophobia #my useless posts #uni stuff

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elisabeth515 · 2 years ago

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The Crew Shuffle (9th April)

Check this post for more background context!

Sorry that I have not been in the best state of my mental health so I have not been making a talking video on my tiktok today but I will be back tomorrow morning for a video version of this post and the stuff on sailing day!

111 years ago, it’s almost the day of the maiden voyage of RMS Titanic. Easter had just passed, yet a lot of work were still going on…

For Henry Wilde, today was the day when he was known that he was officially part of the crew for Titanic’s maiden voyage.

For the entire weekend, Wilde has been very occupied by work onboard the Titanic as the ship was very behind schedule [a], that the White Star Line did not organise a public inspection to the people in Southampton prior to her maiden voyage. The smell of the paint was very fresh that additional flowers were needed to be brought in to cover its smell for the sake of the passengers. His employer has not yet sent in an official confirmation that he was to sail on 10th. Nonetheless, he was constantly in a hurry to help everyone to get everything done.

At 2pm, 9th April, Wilde finally got the official telegraph from White Star Line’s Liverpool headquarters. From the letter written to his children’s nurse on this day, it seems like he has been buried himself into work:

“Just a few lines to let you know that I am sailing on the Titanic tomorrow for a few voyages. I have only just heard that I am going, had a telegram from Liverpool at 2pm this afternoon so I have to go. […]. I have been busy and unsettled… Give the little ones my best love and tell them I will come and see them as soon as I can.”

Letter to nurse, 9th April, 1912; Sincerely Harry by Mike Beatty

On the night of 9th April, the preparation is finally done. Titanic is sailing on schedule, and Harry is going to New York.

The assignment was temporary [b], but it was not the news that the other senior officers were happy to hear. Given the letters sent from David Blair and William Murdoch, the original 2nd Officer and Chief Officer of Titanic, they were already aware of it when Wilde was onboard to assist the fellow officers, nevertheless, they were all disappointed. Murdoch was bumped down to 1st Officer, never being able to get his Chief Officer run debut, and Blair was bumped out and accidentally took the key to the lookout binoculars with him. He was later being somehow blamed for the sinking even though in the circumstances of the night of 14th April, the lookouts would not have used binoculars as they restrict the peripheral view. As for Lightoller, the original 1st Officer, he was bumped down to 2nd Officer and later in his autobiography he wrote:

“Unfortunately, whilst in Southampton, we had a re-shuffle amongst the Senior Officers. Owing to the Olympic being laid up [c], the ruling lights of the White Star Line thought it would be a good plan to send the Chief Officer of the Olympic, just for the one voyage, as Chief Officer of the Titanic, to help, with his experience of her sister ship. This doubtful policy threw both Murdoch and me out of our stride; and, apart from the disappointment of having to step back in our rank, caused quite a little confusion.”

Titanic and Other Ships by Charles Lightoller

There were no clear signs of animosity among the officers on Wilde’s presence. However, given the above passage, and Lightoller’s acts during the evacuation [d], it has been a speculation by some (predominantly by biographers of William Murdoch) that there were some resentment between both men. Given that Wilde perished in the sinking, we could only speculate on his own perspective on the crew shuffle given the evidences we have.

The news of the crew shuffle came in less than 12 hours before Titanic’s maiden voyage. Given the amount of work to be done by Lightoller and Murdoch on the day, they did not have much time to alter their uniforms. In the photo below, we could see Lightoller wearing his 1st Officer uniform (2 stripes). While it is not seen, we assume that Murdoch was doing the same for his Chief Officer uniform (3 stripes). This would later cause confusion between Murdoch and Wilde during the evacuation given that both were wearing their Chief Officer uniforms.

Back to Wilde: what is also interesting to note in the excerpt from the letter to the nurse is that he was seemingly “unsettled”. This was perhaps because a huge load of work were still underway on Titanic and he has been working day and night to get everything done. Yet, given that Wilde has been looking depressed in his other letters written since the death of his wife and twin sons, was this an indication of his mental health state as well? Now he knew that he was to sail to New York on the ship was Chief Officer, still it looks like he was feeling a bit uneasy; not because of the ship herself as we tend to believe, he was probably worrying about whether she could set sail on schedule given that this wasn’t clear until the night. Nevertheless, it is clear that Titanic was about to set sail, with Henry Wilde as chief officer.

—

Notes:

[a]: “She is very far behind to sail on Wednesday.” - Letter to his nieces on 7th April, 1912

[b]: Both Murdoch and Lightoller have noted about this in their own accounts. Particularly in Murdoch’s letter to his sister Peg, he said that “when Wilde goes I am to go up again.” (Source)

[c]: It has to be noted that Lightoller was wrong about this: it was the Cymric, which was the ship that Wilde was to command, that was laid up due to coal strikes.

[d]: In the early hours of 15th April, Lightoller stepped over Wilde to ask the captain for the permission to start loading the lifeboats. Wilde was set to be in charge of all the lifeboats at the port (left) side (while Murdoch at the starboard (right) side), yet in the night, his position was seemingly taken over by Lightoller. This, together with the confusion of the ranks as the officers’ uniforms were not altered, contributed to the widespread myth of Wilde being sort of an enigma during the sinking, though it is clear that he has been very active in the night like all the other officers as well.

Sources used:

Sincerely Harry by Mike Beatty

On a Sea of Glass by Tad Fitch, J. Kent Leyton & Bill Wormstedt

#henry wilde #henry tingle wilde #goofy ahh sailor boi #chief officer dilf #titanic officers #titanic #rms titanic #20th century

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