#i am learning more about french political history than i ever wanted to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unabashegirl · 4 years ago

Text

Pax Romana; Part I

Author’s note: Hey everyone, here is the first part of this mini-series. I hope you like it! Let me know if you want to be on the tag list. Also, REQUESTS ARE OPEN only for H.

DISCLAIMER; I DONT KNOW ITALIAN! (only English, French and Spanish) I clearly used a translator. I am aware their translations are SHIT sometimes. Therefore I am sorry if I butcher it! I didn’t mean to!

masterlist

----

Harry Styles, can still recall the first day he was enthralled by her conspicuous beauty. At first, he reckoned he had done the unavoidable. He had moved to Italy for the summer, and he had managed to fall in love with an Italian girl; that he had never spoken to. He had only observed her from afar — too shy to ever think of approaching her. Nonetheless, the young woman was a sight to behold. He promised himself that he would only watch from afar. It felt forbidden and somewhat illegal. The feeling that bubbled within him was enough reason to continue his study of her.

After his first visit to Italy, he had fallen in love with the country. Hence, why he had rented out a house in a coastal town. The country’s natural and effortless beauty inspired him to write new music for his upcoming album. The beautiful sunsets, the sunny mornings, the art, and the food brought peace and tranquility to him. It was the perfect place for him to hide — for a while. It was on one of his morning runs; he first noticed her.

She wore a bright yellow bikini that exposed most of her olive skin to the sun rays. She sat on a striped towel that she had laid out on the hot sand. Her hair was slicked back and wet after she had dipped in the ocean to refresh her body.

Of course, she never caught sight of his dilated pupils or the way he had leaned forward — lured by her beauty. Her attention was preoccupied with a hardcover of Pride and Prejudice; that she had brought along as a source of entertainment for the day. The young woman appeared too indulged in the printed words to notice his existence.

He watched her for a few hours. Now and then he would remind himself of the hundred reasons why he shouldn’t approach. He had even managed to take a few steps towards her. Harry eventually removed himself as soon as it became too much. He had beaten the temptation.

The first time he spoke to her was at a local restaurant. Harry had taken himself out on a late lunch date. He had dressed up nicely and had walked to the bistro. He noticed her presence after taking his first sip out of his freshly served Chardonnay. She sat on the table across from him. This time she wasn't submerged in a book. He could finally admire her natural beauty up close. The fullness of the apples of her cheeks, her long dark eyelashes, her red-tinted lips, and of course light sunburn on her upper cheeks and across the bridge of her nose.

A few minutes later, her order had arrived. It was ricotta and mushroom stuffed ravioli in a black truffle sauce. She was stuffing her face when they made eye contact. Harry’s lips curved upwards creating a lopsided smile as she scrambled to clean the creamy sauce off her face. He hadn't said anything to her, but she already felt embarrassed.

”Sono deliziosa?” He had done it. He couldn’t just watch her and pray she’d take the first step. It was time to put his Italian to the test. He had been practicing his Italian and even though he already had a few weeks on the Amalfi coast; he still struggled to comprehend. Harry only hoped she would be able to understand him.

”E molto deliziosa” She smiled at him for the first time. She beamed, radiating an intoxicating wave of warmth and happiness towards him. Her lips parted open for a split second but before she could utter a word the waiter approached.

“Hai bisogno di qualcos’ altro?” He was asking her if she needed anything else. She understood what he was asking, but she couldn’t remember how to say cheese.

“Fuck” she said under her breath. “Queso. Fromage. Cheese” She had forgotten how to speak. All her languages had mixed in one and the wires had crossed. “How do you say it?” She whispered under her breath, her cheeks warmed in embarrassment as the waiter tried to comprehend.

“Formaggio. Ha bisogno di formaggio parmigiano, per favore” Harry interrupted, noticing her uneasiness and her inevitable embarrassment. He knew that it wasn’t his business and he shouldn’t have been listening to the conversation, but he had to help her.

The waiter turned his attention to the young celebrity. He was also a bit surprised that Harry had spoken for her. He had seen that Harry kept to himself. He usually attended dinner on his own and hardly even bothered to use his phone. “Inmediatamente”.

“Thank you” She thanked Harry as soon as the waiter had left in search of the parmesan cheese that she so craved. Harry’s excessive focus on watching the server carrying out her request had prevented him from realizing that she spoke perfect English. He had to stop himself from gasping when processed her delicate voice. She had an accent. Slight. Gentle. Barely-there and it wasn’t Italian. He would later learn that her R’s made it more prominent.

“It’s alright. It happens” She instantly recognized who he was. Her heart raced for a minute or two, but she restrained herself from making a huge scene. After all, it was Harry Styles. Whom she considered, the most stylish man of her generation. The man could wear a curtain and still pull it off. “I am Harry” He rises a bit from his seat, extending his right hand.

“Catalina” She shakes his hand with a smile. “So, what brings you here?” Even her name was attractive — he wondered.

“Is’not obvious?”

“Not really. Enlighten me” The stranger gives him a small smirk while placing her napkin over her lap after crossing her legs under the table. Harry purges his lips as he uses his index finger and thumb to slightly tug on his bottom lip.

His whole plan to stay away from her had failed. Did he regret it?. Hell no! He just hoped he had chosen wisely.

“The art” He reveals as he watches her cut one of her ravioli before putting it in her mouth. She responds by only nodding; too indulged in the explosion of flavors within her mouth.

“Music?” She hums as she brings the glass of wine up to her mouth. “ I thought you were more of a dolce far niente type of man” her mouth curved into a smile. Dolce far niente means pleasant relaxation in carefree idleness. Harry instantly identified the phrase from Julia Roberts's famous movie — Eat, Pray, Love. She remembered reading somewhere that he was a rom-com fan.

“Are you?” He shot back. There was no doubt that he was intrigued by her.

“Si” She shrugged as she pushed around some ravioli.

“Then we have more in common than I thought, Catalina” Her name rolled off his tongue without any strain. It was as if he had been practicing for months. She had never heard her name sound so attractively. Sure, he had an accent, but it was still beautifully pronounced.

Harry’s order arrived moments later. He had ordered the classic spaghetti bolognese. He grabbed his fork and knife and right before digging into the plate, he looked up at her. Catalina had been watching him since silence had fallen upon them. His smirk grew into a soft chuckle as their eyes met. She giggled at him and first noticed his dimples. She now understood everyone's obsession with his smile.

“Would you join me?” Catalina spluttered after a few minutes of mentally debating with herself. She felt her heart beating in her throat and her hands dripping with sweat as other parts of her body. It was all very hot.

Catalina wasn’t the type of woman to initiate conversation. She rarely even texts first!. Her excuse is usually that she doesn’t want to bother or interrupt. In reality, she is scared shitless to make a fool out of herself. Therefore, she was quite surprised by herself to have asked him to have dinner together.

Harry cocked his head with his lips pursed. To her, he looked very pensive as if he was making a big decision. She didn’t blame him. He was on vacation and the last thing he wanted was to be photographed with a random girl and for questions to be asked. Although, he had already agreed in his mind. He just couldn’t come across as desperate. Even though he was. Harry wanted to know more.

His fingers tucked his clothed napkin into the collar of his shirt. A chuckle left his lips as he pushed his seat back and raised on his feet. He held his plate and utensils with one hand while his glass of wine with the other.

“So, where are you from?” Harry was first to ask, as he twisted his spaghetti around his folk. Catalina leaned back on her seat, her fingers clenching around her wine glass as she finished swallowing. “I am English” he laughs as if his accent didn’t give it away.

“Really? Bet my life you were Italian” Catalina bantered

“What gave it away?”

“The facial hair and the good head of locks” Harry grinned covering his face with his hands, feeling his cheeks heating up. He felt ridiculous for blushing at such a minuscule compliment. “But anyway, I was born in South America, but raised in Spain by my aunt”. She revealed playing with the small droplets around the cup of ice water that had been forgotten.

“And what are you doing here?”

“I study here” She had just finished her first semester. “Well not here, but in Rome. I am majoring in art history”.

The not so strangers sat for hours and indulged in one more bottle of wine. Harry encouraged her to pick but she politely refused. She said that she hadn’t spent enough time in Italy to know what was best.

She told him about her parents. Her father had walked out on her mother after she had told him that she was expecting. Catalina also shared with him how she felt after losing her mother to cancer when she was only ten. She was quite surprised at herself. She had never shared so much with anyone. Let alone, someone she had met that same night. Harry brought her some kind of comfort that she had no idea she needed.

Harry listened to her. She hadn’t finished speaking and answering his previous question and he already had another one formulated. He liked hearing her speak. She allowed him to pick at her brain and he liked what he saw. She was driven, independent, somewhat lonely, but incredibly smart. Catalina was also unbelievably wise for her age.

“What about you? Is fame all you thought it would be?” Catalina asked moments after they had been kicked out of the restaurant. They eventually had to close. Harry held what was left of the bottle as they walked down the isolated streets.

“That’s a heavily loaded question” He chuckled, “It’s way more complicated and difficult. I think I expected to never feel lonely by the continuous abundance of people around me. But in reality, sometimes it feels lonelier than when I was just Harry” Harry shrugged, masking the pain that the vulnerability that he suddenly felt.

“I get it. The screams and faces don’t match the number of people close to you” Catalina was not famous but she could understand where he was coming from. Sure, her aunt had raised her, but she had felt lonely for most of her life. Her mother's death had felt a gaping hole in her life that no one has ever been able to fulfill.

“M’not ungrateful for my friends but I do feel lonely. I guess I haven't found what I am looking for” Harry flashed her a reassuring smile as they walked down to the main road. “Let me help yeh” He had seen her struggling to walk over the cobblestone streets. She wore low heel sandals that complemented the white satin dress that she has opted for. Unfortunately, the heels were thin enough to slip through the stones making her overly cautious where she stepped.

Harry switched the bottle to his other hand and offered his hand for her to take. She stopped momentarily and stared at his massive hands. They were bare. His famous rings were missing as if they had gone on a vacation too. She took his hand and was slightly surprised at their softness. She had expected them to be rough but they were quite the opposite.

“Thank you”

“No problem” He wanted to spend more time with her. He wished that the night wasn’t ending. “I would invite you for some gelato, but it’s quite late. I doubt there is any place opened”

“How long are you staying?” Catalina asked as she noticed them approaching the entrance of her hotel.

“A few more weeks” the splendor of the lights of the entrance of the hotel illuminated her features. Harry couldn’t help thinking how lovely she looked.

“I’ve had a lovely time. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“M’not planning on goin anywhere” Catalina reached up, resting a delicate hand on his shoulder, she kissed his cheek.

“I’ll see you around then” She gave him a little wave as she walked her way through the doors. She would later realize that she hadn’t only kissed him because it was part of her culture and tradition but because he managed to ignite a flame within her — that one had ever done before.

204 notes · View notes

uthseikoashx-inflamedme · 4 years ago

Text

Summer of 1899 fanfictions: with Philosophy, ancient Greek and Latin, foreign languages and a bit of Literature

(note: by “Summer of 1899 fanfictions”, I refer to the summer of Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald’s meeting as teenagers)

(note: I am not a native speaker, so I apologise for the mistakes, inaccuracies, truly bad use of tenses and wrong phrases. I hope it won’t be too unpleasant. Let me know if something is really not understandable!)

What about philosphy, Latin, etc, but in 1899 fanfictions? (dark academia vibes, I know)

There are already quite a lot of fanfics about it but not enough - because it's so great, let me detail why it is (and expose my headcanons)

(the [1] and [2] are notes, check the end of the post to read them)

(tiny disclaimer: i am not at all an advanced scholar on any of the following topics, just studying that kind of subjects and loving to draw parallels with hp. i hope i won’t say too many wrong things, etc.)

Philosophy :

Moral philosophy

The theories and questions throughout the history of moral philosophy (as far as I know) fit so well with the concerns of our revolutionary boys.

Is there any moral duty? Knowing wizards and witches could solve an amount of muggles' problems, is this immoral for them to stay in the shadows? What about the means of the revolution - is this ok to kill for the Greater Good, to initiate injuries, doom and destruction to build a better world, which cost is acceptable? What about consequentialism, utilitarianism, moral of virtue, deontological philosophy, idk? What's good? What's fair?

More touchy question: the maj-people are able to perform marvellous things, so are they consequently more important than maj-people? Because of their capacities, should they be praised - considered as superior beings - as gods? But if yes, should they treat muggles differently than they would treat wizards? If wizards shouldn’t be considered as superior beings, are they equal to muggles anyway?

And what about the Hallows - is this moral to possess them, considering they mirror Gyges’ ring? Should Albus and Gellet keep them for themselves, use them for the Greater Good (yes they want to, it’s clearly exposed in DH)? Is the Quest important enough to justify sacrifices?

Also, what about Aristotle’s virtue system - being moderate and all, use our reason to be in the middle? Because I’m sure as hell Albus and even more Gellert would reject this idea: isn’t it a form of passivism? (no, but through their pov and situation, they might think that)

(by the way they both read passages of Bentham's and Mill's and Kant's and Plato's and Aristotle's books nobody can convince me otherwise)

(I never read Nietzsche’s extracts and haven’t even merely a define idea of his theories to be honest, except for a few uncertain glimpses of his philosophy - he disagrees with religious morality and is quite vehement about it, and praises an idea of a free human being, released from this moral of the weaks. And as far as I know, I’m pretty sure Gellert would agree with him.)

Political philosophy

I do have a headcanon: Albus and Gellert both read the Republic of Plato (initially because it’s well-known and they didn’t want to be ignorant about it and they surprised themselves being enthralled by Socrates reflexions) ; and quite a lot of their discussions about a perfect society instituted by themselves (and about what’s fair and what’s good) were underpinned by the book.

Is this ok to rule the world? Which system is the best - tyranny, democracy, oligarchy? Are the wizards just like the philosophers and, thus, are righteously meant to be the aristocrats at the top of the government? And are all the wizards as legitimate as Albus and Gellert to rule the world (no)? What’s the acceptable extent of power they should have on civilians? What’s the necessary authority they must be allowed to have on civilians? What about the freedom of the press, of speech (those themes are explored in the Republic and well-), of maj-people and non-maj-people?

Philosophy of desire, joy, pleasure, beauty, etc

Have you ever heard of Plato? (sorry, again, yes.) Well in several Socrates’ dialogs, themes of love and desire are developed (I particularly think about the Symposium) and Albus and Gellert could be convinced by it: the praise of relationships between men, of intellect, of beauty… but also by the myth of Aristophanes (people are halves and search their soulmate (more or less)). Besides, I’ll be quite curious about what Albus and Gellert may say about Alcibiades’ eulogy of Socrates and what they may think of their dynamics.

(long story short, Alcibiades is young and handsome and desires the ugly Socrates, is fascinated by his intellect and considers him as the most interessant man he knows, and can’t help but feeling inferior facing him and being deeply humiliated because Socrates rejects him (on top of that, Alcibiades is drunk and jealous - the parallels to draw between them and our revolutionary boys are bloody interesting but back to the point))

Also, I totally see Albus and Gellert as hedonists during their youth - justifying their immoral and unwise chase of pleasure and complaisance by an artificial sentiment of moderation, temperance, so not true hedonists, like they are not epicurean at all - and this is again something quite compelling, I must admit.

Ancient Greek and Latin :

Latin and ancient Greek at Hogwarts

Throughout the 19th century, the civilizations of antiquity increasingly fascinated the intellectuals - a phantasm around the topic grew and influenced artists and erudite persons, and was furthermore a mark of the cultural capital and level of education of somebody.

Although we haven’t any clue about the fact that Hogwarts changed the disciplines provided through the centuries, we know it is possible : Dumbledore himself almost dismissed divination studies and depending the demands of the students, 7th years can study alchemy (most likely thanks a teaching offered by Dumbledore himself).

And I do have the headcanon that Hogwarts was in the past not that far from studies dispensed in english colleges - or at least, proposed classes of British (magic) Literature, maybe Law (like an elitist subject but necessary to enter in the Ministry and consequently pure-blood kids are always following that course) and, of course, ancient Greek and Latin classes.

And it was necessary, because Latin is the language of spells and most of the magical essays written back in antiquity were in ancient Greek - furthermore, the more complex, ancient and ruthless spells and rituals were based on ancient Greek and not on Latin, more used in everyday, ordinary, common magic (it is again an hc).

(by the way, Arabic and Hebrew could be as well considered as ancient languages used in magic (again an headcanon, but it would underline how magic is complex and has multiple forms and is not just European-centred), but I have the slight feeling that the ideologies and culture of European countries combined with xenophobia and racism have excluded the study of those languages even though they are also vital in the history of magic you know)

Yes it’s based on nothing, but it would be so great and ask so many things about the Wizarding World back in the late 19th and early 20th century - especially about social and political struggle between the population - pure-blood families vs muggle born students, etc [1]. (And it would satisfy my dark academia aesthetic. But quite irrelevant here.)

What about Albus and Gellert then?

Durmstrang could also dispense Latin of Ancient Greek class, in my opinion, but I think (again, imo), it is a bit unlikely. But it does not change the fact that Gellert had always been attracted to Dark magic; so he could have learned the basis by himself in order to decipher ancient Dark ceremonies, etc.

That’s why I think both of them had learnt ancient languages. Maybe Albus took an interest in Celtic dialects (Merlin’s language?), and Gellert was familiar with Vicking Runes. It obviously helped them regarding a lot of their magical and academic performances. Indeed, the boys were able to understand old papers about the Hollows, but also ancient rituals, etc. And thus, had a wide access to a more dangerous, unstable, raw and primeral practice of magic: it was not like the average spells in Latin, but an intricate way to unleash their potential [2].

Besides, only few people - erudites - were as interested as the boys were in these old ways to use magic, and needless to say that neither of those persons were as powerful as Albus and Gellert were. Furthermore, the boys were able to keep a balance between the complexity of the enchantments and the instincts they both have regarding the expression of their magic. They accordingly thought of being more powerful than everybody else.

Foreign languages :

The languages in the schools

It is clear that Hogwarts is exclusively Anglophone. The school is quite small: 40 students per year, so 280 students in all, coming from Great Britain - England, Ireland, Scotland, Yales, so the isles. We could also think that the wizardkind living in the CommonWealth during the colonial age also studied in Hogwarts. (again a hc, but Henry Potter and his son Fleamont were both born in India, fight me)

Durmstrang, on the other hand, could host quite more nationalities. I imagine the school having three main languages: German, French and English. But in fact, English and French are more “officials”, used by administration and in some classes (French was quite important at the time, right? then it was English?). So the students most likely speak between them in German (Germany had been formed in 1871 and I think the Austrian-Ungarian Empire was also Germanophone?), Russian, Hungarian, Lithuanian… well, all the languages spoken in Easten Europe.

(and just to mention it, I believe that Beauxbâtons is a huge school, bigger than Hogwarts and Durmstrang, because we need logic at some point - anyway)

What about Albus and Gellert then, again?

Gellert was probably speaking German, English (obviously, he wrote letters in English, spoke in English with Albus and Aberforth…), maybe French, and maybe another language depending on his mother country. I headcanon him coming from the Austrian-Hungarian Empire, but he might as well come from Denmark (the country of Mikkelsen?) or a Balkan State (there were wars here at the end of the 19th century, it could be an interesting theme), etc.

However, I doubt that Albus knew Danish or Hungarian, but he definitely spoke French rather well (he exchanged letters with Nicolas Flamel) and perhaps the basis of something else (Italian? German?).

I do not mention magical foreign languages they could have been familiar with - we know Albus is fluent in Goblegedook and Mermish in 1994, but I doubt he already was in 1899.

(Also, Albus’ mother came from America, so she might be originally from the Native American community and thus know an another language and let Albus know as well, but the fact that she is Christian (most likely, regarding what is her epitaph) let me doubtful; but I’m not enough informed about the Native American history to build meta, headcanon and theories, so I won’t explore this idea more.)

All in all, they are quite familiar with a lot of languages, and they certainly had a few conversations in what was not English (a mix of Latin, Ancient Greek, German and French, perhaps?) to infuriate Aberforth and not let him know about what they were talking about. (headcanon, again)

Literature :

We do not have a lot of clues about fiction - novels, theater or poetry - belonging to the wizarding universe - except Beedle’s Tales, of course. But we can imagine it exists.

Nevertheless, I am more interested in what Albus and Gellert might have read in the muggle literature. Besides, I think it is funny to consider that some writers or playwrights are known by muggles but are in reality wizards and witches - especially Braham Stoker, Mary Shelley… maybe Poe and Shakespeare as well.

So, I imagine that Albus and Gellert would have heard of Goethe, Heine, Novalis for German literature; maybe Hugo, Baudelaire, Flaubert for French literature… most likely Dante (definitely Dante). Though I honestly do not think they were fond of novels and literature, they could have been interested by it sometimes, when it echoed to something in them - Shakespeare, but also the story of Verlaine and Rimbaud, or Oscar Wilde’s story and unique novel.

There is also the theme of Oscar Wilde, homosexual writer, and his trial at the end of the 19th century, which are recurrent topics in 1899 fanfictions - a quite interesting one, imo. Have you ever read the Preface of the Picture of Dorian Gray? Definitely Albus and Gellert vibes.

All in all, I don’t think they may have been interested in literature for literature itself, but rather for the political aspect of it. (except for Shelley, Shakespeare and Dante which are a witch and two wizards, and are interested by the references to magic in the works themselves, again hc)

To conclude :

Even though 1899 fanfictions are great - and I thank you, 1899 fanfictions writers, you are amazing - I quite love the idea of all of this aesthetic that could developed. It is somehow prompt ideas.

(also I an studying humanities so it might be why I see those themes in 1899 fanfics so well, yes)

Thanks for reading! :)

Notes :

[1] : I wrote about the conservative Wizarding World and pure-blood families here: Why are the Weasleys poor? (eng&fr) (theories about pure-blood families, inheritance, etc) / How can everyone find their true-love and still be in love after years in HP? (”magic-soulmates” theory and conservative society)

[2] : I wrote about Dark magic and rituals in 1899 here: What if Antonio (Gellert Grindelwald’s chupacabra) had been created in 1899? / What about a dangerous, complicated and a bit gore alchemical experience tried by Albus and Gellert secretly?

And I posted quite a lot of things about GGAD, check the Table of contents if you are interested! :)

73 notes · View notes

cruisingthedemimonde · 4 years ago

Text

America’s Gay Men in WW2

World War Two was a “National Coming Out” for queer Americans.

I don’t think any other event in history changed the lives of so many of us since Rome became Christian.

For European queers the war brought tragedy.

The queer movement began in Germany in the 1860s when trans activist Karl Ulrichs spoke before the courts to repeal Anti-Sodomy laws. From his first act of bravery the movement grew and by the 1920s Berlin had more gay bars than Manhattan did in the 1980s. Magnus Hirschfeld’s “Scientific Humanitarian Committee” fought valiantly in politics for LGBT rights and performed the first gender affirmation surgeries. They were a century ahead of the rest of the world.

The Nazis made Hirschfeld - Socialist, Homosexual and Jew - public enemy number one.

The famous image of the Nazis burning books? Those were the books of the Scientific Humanitarian Committee. Case studies of the first openly queer Europeans, histories, diaries - the first treasure trove of our history was destroyed that day.

100,000 of us were charged with felonies. As many as 15,000 were sent to the camps, about 60% were murdered.

But in America the war brought liberation.

In a country where most people never even heard the word “homosexual” , historian John D’emilio wrote the war was “conducive both to the articulation of a homosexual identity and to the more rapid evolution of a gay subculture. (24)” The war years were “a Watershed (Eaklor 68)”

Now before we begin I need to give a caveat. The focus of this first post is not lesbians, transfolk or others in our community. Those stories have additional complexity the story of cisgender homosexual men does not. Starting with gay men lets me begin in the simplest way I can, in subsequent posts I’ll look at the rest of our community.

Twilight Aristocracy: Being Queer Before the War

I want us to go back in time and imagine the life of the typical queer American before the war. Odds are you lived on a farm and simply accepted the basic fact that you would marry and raise children as surely as you were born or would die. You would have never seen someone Out or Proud. If you did see your sexuality or gender in contrary ways you had no words to express it, odds are even your doctor had never heard the term “Homosexual. In your mind it was just a quirk, without a name or possible expression.

In the city the “Twilight Aristocracy” lived hidden, on the margins and exposed their queerness only in the most coded ways. Gay men “Dropping pins” with a handkerchief in a specific pocket. Butch women with key chains heavy enough to show she didn’t need a man to carry anything for her. A secret language of “Jockers” and “Nances” “Playing Checkers” during a night out. There is a really good article on the queer vernacular here

And these were “Lovers in a Dangerous Time.”

In public one must act as straight as possible. Two people of the same gender dancing could be prosecuted. Cross dressing, even with something as trivial as a woman wearing pants, would run afoul of obscenity laws.

The only spaces we had for ourselves were dive bars, run by organized crime. But even then one must be sure to be circumspect, and act straight. Anyone could be an undercover cop. If a gaze was held to long, or lovers kissed in a corner the bar would be raided. Police saw us as worthy candidates for abuse so beatings were common and the judge would do all he could to humiliate you.

Now Michael Foucault, the big swinging french dick of queer theory, laid out this whole theory about how the real policing in a society happens inside our heads. Ideas about sin, shame, normalcy, mental illness can all be made to control people, and the Twilight Aristocracy was no different.

While cruising a park at night, or settled on the sofa with a lifelong lover, the thoughts of Priests and Doctors haunted them. “Am I living in Sin? Am I someone God could love?” “Is this healthy? Have I gone mad? Is this a true love or a medical condition which requires cure?”

There was no voice in America yet healing our self doubt, or demanding the world accept us as we are. And that voice, the socialist Harry Hay, did not come during the war, but it would come shortly after directly because of it.

Johnny Get Your Gun… And are you now or ever been a Homosexual?

For the first time in their lives millions of young men crossed thousands of miles from their home to the front.

But before they made that brave journey they had another, unexpected and often torturous journey. The one across the doctor’s office at a recruiting station.

In the nineteenth century queerness moved from an act, “Forgive me Father I have sinned, I kissed another man” to something you are, “The homosexual subspecies can be identified by certain physical and psychological signs.”

These were the glory days of patriarchy and white supremacy, those who transgressed the line between masculine and feminine called the whole culture into question. So doctors obsessed themselves with queerness, its origins, its signs, its so called catastrophic racial consequences and its cure.

“Are you a homosexual?” doctors asked stunned recruits.

If you were closeted but patriotic, you would of course deny the accusation. But the doctor would continue his examination by checking if you were a “Real Man.”

“Do you have a girlfriend? Did you like playing sports as a kid?”

If you passed that, the doctor would often try and trip you up by asking about your culture.

“Do you ever go basketeering?” he would ask, remembering to check if there was any lisp or effeminacy in your voice.

Finally if the doctor felt like it he could examine your body to see if you were a member of the homosexual subspecies.

Your gag reflex would be tested with a tongue depressor. Another hole could be carefully examined as well.

Humiliating enough for a straight man. But for a gay recruit the consequences could be life threatening.

Medical authorities knew homosexuals were weak, criminal and mad. To place them among the troops would weaken unit cohesion at the very least, result in treachery at the worst. In civilian life doctors had much the same thing to say.

The recruit needed a cure. And a doctor was always ready. With talk therapy, hypnosis, drugs, electroshock and forced surgeries of the worst kinds there was always a cure ready at hand.

Thankfully the doctors were not successful in their task, one doctor wrote “for every homosexual who was referred or came to the Medical Department, there were five or ten who never were detected. (d’Emilio 25)”

Here’s the irony though, by asking such pointed and direct questions to people closeted to themselves it forced them to confront their sexuality for the first time.

Hegarty writes, “As a result of the screening policies, homosexuality became part of wartime discourse. Questions about homosexual desire and behavior ensured that every man inducted into the armed forces had to confront the possibility of homosexual feelings or experiences. This was a kind of massive public education about homosexuality. Despite—and be-cause of—the attempts to eliminate homosexuals from the military, men with same-sex desires learned that there were many people like themselves (Hegarty 180)”

And then it gave them a golden opportunity to have fun.

The 101st Airborn - Homosocial and Homosexual

“Homosocial” refers to a gender segregated space. And they were often havens for gay men. The YMCA for example really was a place for young gay men to meet.

Now the government was already aware of the kind of scandalous sexual behaviour young men can get up to when left to themselves. Two major government programs before the war, the Federal Transient Program and the Civilian Conservation Corps focused on unattached young men, but over time these spaces became highly suspect and the focus shifted to helping family men so as to avoid giving government aid to ‘sexual perversion’ in these homosocial spaces.

But with the war on there was no choice but to put hundreds of thousands of young men in their own world. All male boot camps, all male bases, all male front lines.

The emotional intensity broke down the barriers between men and the strict enforcement of gendered norms.

On the front the men had no girlfriend, wife or mother to confide in. The soldier’s body was strong and heroic but also fragile. Straight men held each other in foxholes and shared their emotional vulnerability to each other. Gender lines began to blur as straight men danced together in bars an action that would result in arrest in many American cities.

Bronski writes, “Men were now more able to be emotional, express their feelings, and even cry. The stereotypical “strong, silent type,” quintessentially heterosexual, that had characterized the American Man had been replaced with a new, sensitive man who had many of the qualities of the homosexual male. (Bronski 152)”

Homosexual men discovered in this environment new freedoms to get close to one another without arousing suspicion.

“Though the military officially maintained an anti-homosexual stance, wartime conditions nonetheless offered a protective covering that facilitated interaction among gay men (d’Emilio 26)”

Bob Ruffing, a chief petty officer in the Navy described this freedom as follows, ‘When I first got into the navy—in the recreation hall, for instance— there’d be eye contact, and pretty soon you’d get to know one or two people and kept branching out. All of a sudden you had a vast network of friends, usually through this eye contact thing, some through outright cruising. They could get away with it in that atmosphere. (d’Emilio 26) ”

Another wrote about their experience serving in the navy in San Diego, “‘Oh, these are more my kind of people.’ We became very chummy, quite close, very fraternal, very protective of each other. (Hegarty 180)”

Some spaces within the army became queer as well. The USO put on shows for soldiers, and since they could not find women to play parts, the men often dressed in drag. “impersonation. For actors and audiences, these performances were a needed relief from the stress of war. For men who identified as homosexual, these shows were a place where they could, in coded terms, express their sexual desires, be visible, and build a community. (Bronski 148)”

“Here you see three lovely “girls”

With their plastic shapes and curls.

Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?

We’ve got glamour and that’s no lie;

Can’t you tell when we swish by?

Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?”

The words camp and swish being used in the gay subculture and connected to effeminate gay men.

I would have to assume, more than a few transwomen gravitated to these spaces as well.

Even the battlefield itself provided opportunities for gay fraternization. A beach in Guam for example became a secret just for the gay troops, they called it Purple Beach Number 2, after a perfume brand.

This homoerotic space was not confined to the military, but spilled out into civilian life as well.

Donald Vining was a pacifist who stated bluntly his homosexuality to the recruitment board as his mother needed his work earnings, and if you wanted be a conscientious objector you had to apply to go to an objector’s camp. He became something of a soldier chaser, working in the local YMCA and volunteering at the soldier’s canteen in New York he hooked up with soldiers still closeted for a night of passion but many more who were open about who they were.

After the war he was left with a network of gay friends and a strong sense of belonging to a community. It was dangerous tho, he was victim of robberies he could not report because they happened during hook ups, but police were always ready to raid gay bars when they were bored. “It was obvious that [the police] just had to make a few arrests to look busy,” he protested in his diary. “It was a travesty of justice and the workings of the police department (d’Emilio 30).״

Now it might seem odd he was able to plug into a community like that, but over the war underground gay bars appeared across the country for their new clientele. Even the isolated Worcester Mass got a gay bar.

African American men, barred from combat on the front lines, were not entirely barred from the gay subculture in the cities. For example in Harlem the jazz bar Lucky Rendevous was reported in Ebony as whites and blacks “steeped in the swish jargon of its many lavender costumers. (Bronski 149)”

The Other War: Facing Homophobia

“For homosexual soldiers, induction into the military forced a sudden confrontation with their sexuality that highlighted the stigma attached to it and kept it a matter of special concern (d’Emilio 25)”

“They were fighting two wars: one for America, democracy, and freedom; the other for their own survival as homosexuals within the military organization. (Eaklor 68)”

Once they were in, they fell under Article 125 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice: “Any person subject to this chapter who engages in unnatural carnal copulation with another person of the same or opposite sex or with an animal is guilty of sodomy. Penetration, however slight, is sufficient to complete the offense.”

Penalties could include five years hard labour, forced institutionalization or fall under the dreaded Section 8 discharge, a stamp of mental instability that would prevent you from finding meaningful employment in civilian life.

Even if one wanted nothing to do with fulfilling their desires it was still essential to become hyper aware of your presentation and behaviour in order to avoid suspicion.

Coming Home to Gay Ghettos

“The veterans of World War II were the first generation of gay men and women to experience such rapid, dramatic, and widespread changes in their lives as homosexuals. Bronski 154”

After the war many queer servicemen went on to live conventionally heterosexual lives. But many more returned to a much queerer life stateside.

Bob Ruffing would settle down in San Francisco. The city has always been a safe harbour for queer Americans, made more so as ex servicemen gravitated to its liberated atmosphere. The port cities of New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles became the prime destinations to settle. Vining’s partner joined him in New York, where they both immersed themselves in the gay culture.

Other soldiers moved to specific neighborhoods known for having small gay communities. San Francisco’s North Beach, the west side of Boston’s Beacon Hill, or New York’s Greenwich Village. Following the war the gay populations of these cities increased dramatically.

The cities offered parks, coffee houses and bars which became queer spaces. And drag performance, music and comedy became features of this culture.

These veterans also founded organizations just for the queer soldiers. In Los Angeles the Knights of the Clock provided a space for same sex inter racial couples. In New York the Veterans Benevolent Association would often see 400-500 homosexuals appear at its events.

A number of books bluntly explored homosexuality following the war, such as The Invisible Glass which tells the story of an inter racial couple in Italy,

“With a slight moan Chick rolled onto his left side, toward the Lieutenant. His finger sought those of the officer’s as they entwined their legs. Their faces met. The breaths, smelling sweet from wine, came in heavy drawn sighs. La Cava grasped the soldier by his waist and drew him tightly to his body. His mouth pressed down until he felt Chick’s lips part. For a moment they lay quietly, holding one another with strained arms.”

Others like Gore Vidal’s The City and the Pillar (1948), Fritz Peters’s The World Next Door (1949), and James Barr’s Quatrefoil (1950) explored similar themes.

In 1948 the Kinsey Report would create a public firestorm by arguing that homosexuality is shockingly common. In 1950 The Mattachine Society, a secretive group of homosexual Stalinists launched America’s LGBT movement.

References:

Michael Bronski “A Queer History of the United States”

John D’emilio “Coming Out Under Fire”

Vivki L Eaklor “Queer America: A GLBT History of America”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Lesbians

In 1947 General Eisenhower told a purple heart winning Sargeant Johhnie Phelps, “It's come to my attention that there are lesbians in the WACs, we need to ferret them out”.

Phelps replied, “"If the General pleases, sir, I'll be happy to do that, but the first name on the list will be mine."

Eisenhower’s secretary added “"If the General pleases, sir, my name will be first and hers will be second."

Join me again May 17 to hear the story of America’s Lesbians during the war.

#gay history #world war two #queer history #gay #lgbt

21 notes · View notes

ourplaceinthecosmosphff · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 1. The Case Against Fairytales

'his eyes across a room tangled up in her imagination they had spent a lifetime together by the time he said hello' atticus

My brother died the same way he came into the world: silent, eyes closed, changing my life as I knew it.

We spent our whole lives trying to convince anyone we could that we were as regular as they were, but here's the first fundamentally different thing when you are royal: the meaning of the word ‘everyone’.

In our case, we usually mean anyone in the country, most of the international media, and at least a sizeable majority of the world's population. It's not that everyone knew us... it's just that enough people did. Enough for it to be easier to call them 'everyone'.

When my brother Louis was born, mom had been rushed to the hospital in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. The press was notified, they promptly set up camp at the hospital entrance, and the people started prayer campaigns to the safe arrival of their new prince and heir. Everyone rejoiced at his arrival. I remember, I was there.

At three years-old, it felt like everyone was every single person in the planet. It was mostly just the people in our country; to everyone else, his birth was a quick, short line of announcement, maybe some notice to the fact that the newborn baby boy was taking his older sister's place as heir, and not much else.

When he died, everyone was every single person in the planet. The second thing fundamentally different when you are a royal: from a very early age you must learn that tragedy sells more than joy. And in any constitutional monarchy country, a royal family is merely another commodity.

A few people talked about my early graduation from University. A lot more people talked about my boyfriend breaking up with me. There were a few articles about my little sister's victory at the ice-skating junior final. When she fell on her face in front of the cameras while attempting a risky move, she went viral. When my brother came into our lives, a few people took notice.

When he left us, everyone did.

---- ---- ---- ----

I, too, am a victim of culture appropriation. Since the dawn of time, from the moment humankind developed communication skills, there has been storytelling. And for the past few thousands of years most stories that parents tell their young as they tuck them into their blankets every night, have been about my culture. As far as that goes, it is not the most damaging kind of culture appropriation. But I have a duty today, and I will not shy away from it. I am sorry to say I must, and will, shatter the beautiful image of fairytales that kids have been fed for so many years now.

I know what you are thinking – oh, boo-hoo, the poor little princess girl; is life too difficult in your beautiful palace with all the money a person could ever need? And yes, I know. I am not a victim. The same colonialism that placed my ancestors, and therefore, me, in the position of privilege and power I am in today has created many more actual victims around the world. But that is also why I must tell this story the way it was always meant to be told: truthfully. With all the weird, awkward, awful, bits and pieces that fairytales tend to skip.

Fairytales would, for instance, skip straight to the grand, majestic welcome ceremony between the Queen of the United Kingdom and the King of Savoy in a sun floored courtyard with guards on tall, furry black hats strutting around, standing in a red-carpeted dais, with a handsome prince making eyes at me. But in my story, we will start with the train.

That’s right, in modern fairytales you don’t take a lovely carriage ride to a neighboring kingdom. You take a train there – a commercial train, if you can, because modern times beg for demonstrating to the masses that the Monarch isn’t throwing money around. We were trying to highlight the easy routes of access to our neighbors to the northeast, and so we took the ferry across the Celtic Sea to Hugh Town Island and from there, Eurostar number 2 train that made a quick stop in Penzance, UK, and then went straight to London.

The train ride isn’t comfortable – even if you have a first class private car. It’s bumpy and crowded and a terrible place to spend three straight hours. On that particular morning, I was in our car with my father, his household secretary Auguste, my private aide, Cadie, and a few other staff members.

In fairytale world, when a princess does not look the part, there is usually the appearance of a fairy godmother who sings a nice song and magically transforms her into a Proper Princess™. There is no fairy godmothers when you are a real princess- real ones, sure, but they are not magical-, but you do learn from an early age what a Proper Princess™ should look like, act like, and sound like, and god forbid you don't.

In the train that day, I heard all that was keeping me from being Proper™ from Auguste, who was in many ways the exact opposite of a fairy godmother. He had all the menacing authority of one, with none of the charm. He also didn’t have wings or a sparkly wand; he had greying short hair, and thin, small, reading glasses that he always pushed down to the tip of his nose to look above, which made me wonder what was the point of the glasses at all.

Before our arrival, I had to change my lipstick, which was too dark, my dress, which was too short at the daring height of above my knees, my shoes, which were open toed and therefore wrong, and finally, make sure to brush my hair once more.

My parents never subscribed to the idea that we were forbidden to do anything. They were raised on stern rules and heavily traditional costumes and wanted their kids to live more freely. So, growing up, they revolutionarily told us that we were free to be whoever we wanted to be – in private. In public, we had an obligation to be Proper™. After all, as I heard repeatedly growing up: royals don’t make mistakes, we make history; and history remembers.

So, yes. I, a grown, 25 years-old, law-school graduate, bar-approved acquisitions lawyer, changed out of my dress into a more proper one because my dad asked. Because as a princess, you’re never just yourself; you’re the country. And if your country comes from a Roman Catholic tradition, your hemlines must reflect that, no matter what century it is.

The country in question was just to the south of the United Kingdom, west of France, a large island named Savoie. The English call it Savoy, which is how it was pronounced anyway. It was originally populated by the Irish, but over the years it was conquered by the English, the Spanish, and the Portuguese until finally, in the 13th Century, it was conquered by France. It was bigger than Ireland, but smaller than England, and one of the biggest GDPs in the world, with a population of 49 million. Under the reign of Louis XV, however, France lost most of its possessions after its defeat in the Seven Years' War, and to secure Savoy, the king sent part of the court to live there and to reign in his stead as his emissaries. Louis XV's reign grew weak, including his ill-advised financial, political and military decisions, which discredited the monarchy and arguably led to the French Revolution 15 years after his death. France dealt with its dissatisfaction by revolting, Savoy however, secluded away at sea, decided to declare independence before the Revolution had even taken steam. The political leaders of the Island reached an agreement with the king's emissary, Prince Louis, the highest ranking monarch on the island; in exchange for support for the severance of all connection to France, he was then made King Louis I of Savoy. The Royal House of Savoy grew steady and strong by protecting its people and assuring them a freer, better life than the one they'd known under French reign.

A few years later, I sat on that train in front of the current King of Savoy. My father.

“You look beautiful, Maggie.”

“Thank you.”

“The other dress was beautiful as well. Just not for today.”

“Mm-hm.”

A moment of silence went by. I picked up my phone and checked my emails. There was one from Sophie with the subject ‘urgent!’ so I clicked in it feeling my heart race.

It read,

‘Marie, I’m sorry to bother you on your days off, but the depositions got moved up to Monday and we can’t find the notes on the manager deposition, you were the one who did them. Is there any chance you have a copy and if so can you send them to me? Enjoy England! XO Soph’

Sighing, I put down my phone and quickly found my laptop on my suitcase. I turned it on as I replied to Sophie’s email to tell her to expect my deposition notes shortly.

“You know if we could I’d let you wear whatever you wanted.” Dad added as I logged into my computer.

“I do.”

I moved quickly through my folders realizing the most recent update on my notes hadn’t been uploaded to the cloud. Sighing, I logged on to the train WiFi and checked the storage service online. It didn’t connect.

“Honestly, darling, you look even prettier with this dress.”

I looked up, mentally wondering if the previous versions of the notes would be useful.

“This isn’t about the dress.”

I realized, then, that it wouldn’t matter anyway because I wouldn’t be able to send them to Sophie without internet. I looked out the window, realizing perhaps too late that we were in the tunnel, underwater. Of course there wasn’t internet.

“Well, what is it about?” Dad asked, putting his book marker back inside the page he was on and laying down the book to give me his full attention.

“Work, papa. I have a job.”

“Yes, and it’s your day off. Maybe you should try and turn off from work for the next few days?”

I smiled down to my computer, “maybe this is a conversation for another time.”

Dad adjusted his posture, looking a little taller, and looked around the room to Cadie and Auguste sitting in a booth nearby with our private hair and make-up artist, and dad’s footman, and personal aide.

“Excuse me, everyone, would you be so kind as to give us the room? Or, uh, the car? There is a little lounge outside, isn’t there?”

“Of course, sir.” Auguste said, jumping up immediately with the aide, and Cadie and Cass, the make-up artist, followed.

After they had left and closed the door behind them, I looked at my father. He lurched back in his seat and smiled at me.

“Go on,” he said. “If you don’t scream I don’t think they’ll hear us.”

“Why would I scream?”

“I don’t know, Maggie. But I don’t know why you would be so passive aggressive, either. Can you tell me?”

“What do you want, dad?”

In truth, I added the ‘dad’ at the end of the sentence to make it sound less aggressive, but as he stared at me, I felt uncomfortable not explaining myself.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”, I asked, tiredly. “I’m here, wearing a proper, long, not-slutty dress-“

“No one here used that word-“

“My toes will be perfectly hidden away when we arrive, I have hidden my ugly, evil legs under some stockings-“

“Really, Maggie, no one said your legs were-“

“My make-up is light and my hair is simple and non-threatening. I know not to smile too much or too little and to let the adults lead the conversation”, I said, the word ‘adults’ dangling bitterly from me lips. “And not to walk ahead of you, but always behind, taking your lead.”

“You make it sound so stiff and calculated.”

“And I have taken time off of work to be here.” I said. “All other Junior Associates are working overtime and through weekends to cash in as many billable hours as possible to be promoted to Full-time Associates, and instead I took off four days to travel with my dad.”

“Work, for work!”

“So, again, what do you want? How else am I not meeting your expectations?”

I spoke calmly, gently, and as low a volume as I could just to confront his joke not a minute before about how if I didn’t scream the others wouldn’t hear us. I made sure to be as poised and contained as I could. He heaved a sigh.

“I’m sorry you had to take time off work.”

I waited, as he stared in his usual lovingly, patient way. I smiled, more as a peace offering than genuinely.

“You know very well they won’t fire you.”

Still, I was quiet, smiling as sincerely as I could.

“And I know that isn’t fair, but there’s nothing I can do about it. So tell me something I can do and I will.”

“Okay.” I said, nodding. “I want your honesty. Don’t treat me like a child you need to protect, don’t patronize me. All I want is an honest answer.”

He adjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat. “Alright. Go on.”

“Why am I here, papa?”

He blinked, seemingly confused. I could tell he expected a harder question.

“Your- Because your mother sprained her ankle?” he answered, still unsure. “What- do you mean philosophically? Why are any of us here, really? I don’t understand.”

I tried not to smile. “I mean I have a life. I am not your heir. Louis is your heir, it is his job to help you when mom has emergencies.”

He sighed deeply, finally arriving at the same page where I was.

“Your brother is in school.” He said. “And you are our oldest child. So, I’m sorry if it disrupts your life, Maggie. But you are needed.”

“And after school?” I asked “His graduation is in 6 months. Are you telling me that after he graduates university and moves back home, when he is starting his career, maybe moving to the capital, when you and mom have an emergency, you will call him up instead of me?”

He gave the table a sad smile. “If that is your wish, yes.”

“So that’s all, then?” I confirmed, suspiciously. “He moves back after graduation and you will give me the space I need?”

He smiled. “Is that what you want, then?” it wasn’t a confirmation. It was a tone of accomplishment. Of finally realizing what was it that I wanted, as if this entire conversation that’s what he had been trying to find out.

“I went to school for years. I interned for a year. I studied hard for the bar exams in America and Savoy. Yes, dad, I want to use the degree I worked hard for.”

“Okay, then. We will give you space.” He said. “Space from us, to be who you want to be. To be normal.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling, slightly amused at his dramatics. “That is not what I meant.”

“But it is accurate.”

“Papa...” I sighed.

“I’m just saying, sweetheart, I understand.” He insisted. “It’s why you went to America for University, it’s why you are based on the capital now. As long as you’re too close to us, you can’t live a normal life.”

“I can never live a normal life. We are not normal.”

“But you wish to try.”

I chuckled. “How?! You said it yourself, they will never fire me. My firm, I mean. Wherever I am, I am never just me and my degree and my career. People look at me and see you, as if I am you. I am their King. I am the Royal Family of Savoy. They’ll never take me seriously or afford me the same opportunities as everyone, because I am not everyone.”

He nodded, slowly, then sighed. “Yikes. You’re right. That sounds tough.”

“And I’m the passive aggressive one?”

“Job security and the attention of your bosses. That sounds awful.”

“Papa...”

“You want the space to dedicate yourself to your career without us pulling you away for royal work. Is that it? Okay. You got it. As soon as your brother is back from University, I will make sure you’re only needed for official events, and only if you’re not working.”

He sounded serious now. Sincere as when he delivered the End of Year address every Christmas, which was meaningful. Getting dad to afford me the same seriousness he afforded his subjects was as much seriousness as I could get from him. Still, there was no mistaking the sadness in his eyes.

“Even before his affirmation ceremony?” I asked, trying to sniff around for a trick.

The affirmation ceremony was meant to make clear to the country that an heir to throne had the seal of approval of the Monarch, and it usually happened when the heir was 21 years of age, to signify the Monarch believed in the event of a tragedy, the heir was ready to rule. In modern times, it meant an heir was ready to start working as a full-time royal. Though my brother was 22, the family had decided to wait until he had graduated university to do his ceremony.

Dad took longer than I wished, but finally, he nodded. “Yes. I promise.”

If you’re paying attention, then you might have noticed the math doesn’t add up. How come my 22 years-old brother is the heir when I said I am 25, the oldest child? Well, as with most fairytales, as well as with most of life, the problem is the patriarchy. For the thing is, though I was older than Louis by three years, because I was born a girl, he became the heir when he was born. So, at three, I went from future-Queen to lower ranking older sister.

It wasn’t unusual, my father himself had two older sisters who were lower than him and his brothers in the line of succession. As a result we had older cousins who we outranked. I cared about all this at 25 the same as when I was 3: not at all.

Absolute primogeniture law was passed in Savoy when I was 5, propelled by my birth and the new times. It was, however, not retroactive. This meant the law was changed for future births, not past ones, so all girls born after the law came into effect would be heirs in their own right, no matter how many brothers they got after, and all girls born before would go into history as having missed it by ‘just a bit’.

Louis and I, though, didn’t sit around having long discussions about who would be a better ruler. There has never been an instance in which we were arguing and I yelled something like, “first you stole my throne and now you stole my cookies! I hate you!”. For us this was just a little footnote in the family tree. A little fun fact to tell our future kids one day. And although I couldn’t remember what it felt like, I always knew it was much better not having to be the Crown Princess of Savoy.

---- ---- ---- ----

When we finally reached Penzance, the small town in the tip of the isle of England where sat the second Eurostar station, I was able to finally connect to the internet. My father left our train car to walk about with his security because he wanted to witness the new English policy of installing a check-point at the entry due to the immigrant crisis – a huge part of why we were there. While he did that, I sent Sophie my notes on the deposition, and answered some messages.

There was one from Louis, my aforementioned brother:

‘are you close?’

And one from our baby sister, Lourdes:

‘what do you think??!!!!!!!!’, with an attachment of two videos.

And, lastly, one from my mother, Her Majesty Queen Amelie-Elyse, back home with a sprained ankle.

‘Hope all is well! Let me know when you’re with your brother. Don’t forget to let your hair down before leaving the train!’

She didn’t mean it in a philosophical, have fun kind of way. She literally meant let my hair down, apparently it softened my features.

I replied to her with a selfie, with my hair properly brushed and down, in preparation for the arrival in London, which was close now. Let Louis know we were almost there. And sent a quick, uncommitted ‘woah!’ to my sister, without opening her attachments. They were always the same: videos of her practicing. There was only so much ice skating I could watch in a lifetime.

My mom answered my text with, “why did you change your dress?!”

I sighed, getting ready to justify this decision as well, already anticipating she would argue that the fascinator wouldn’t go with this one dress, so I told her I already had another fascinator standing by.

Growing up with fairytales they don’t tell you about the little annoying details. Characters who are annoying usually are the villains, the ones the Princess escapes from, usually saved by the prince. They don’t tell you sometimes, actually a lot of the times, the people you love can be equally as annoying.

---- ---- ---- ----

When we arrived at the station in London, I was already wearing my disc fascinator in a light shade of blue matching both my lace dress, this time reaching all the way to my ankles, and eyes. We were quickly greeted by the Savoyen Ambassador to England in front of the press, and escorted into government cars towards Whitehall.

The large parade ground was a traditional courtyard in central London that usually housed ceremonies related to the military and the royal family. When we arrived, the day finally was washed in a feeling of ceremony.

The place was lined neatly with military guards, security barricades and the Scotland Yard Police kept watchers and paparazzi at bay, the press lined up inside to have the best view of all involved. As we arrived, the traditional 41 gun salute was already sounding on. A military band was playing. People waved and yelled hello as we drove inside. I suddenly knew what to do, as if my body had the gene for it. This was one thing that was definitely genetic.

I stepped out of the car delicately, smoothly, knees together like a proper lady, polite smile on my lips in thanks to the guard who saluted as I left. My father greeted a handler who escorted us to the front of all the lined guards, where three structures had been set up: one large one in the middle, with a red-carpeted stage and a large roof, the British Royal Coat of Arms in the center with the British flag to its right and the Savoy flag to its left. Decorative flowers and elegant plants here and there. Two smaller, simpler structures to both of its sides. Inside all of them, men and women in formal suits and ties and knee-length, appropriate dresses and hats.

We walked the grovel path to the larger structure as the band played and the press, lined up in front of this platform, took their photographs. My father climbed the steps first, quickly being received by the small, elder, lady in a lavender overcoat and matching hat, impressive set of pearls dangling from her neck. She smiled as he lowered himself down to kiss both her cheeks warmly.

The queen then looked at me and I approached, just as our handler told Her Majesty:

“And may I present, Her Royal Highness, Princess Marie-Margueritte of Savoy.”

I lowered myself in a curtsy, and as she extended her hands to hold mine, I also kissed her cheeks, trying to avoid knocking her hat with mine.

“Welcome.” She smiled. “I hope the ride was forgiving.”

“Very comfortable.” My father told her. “Always surprising how fast it is.”

“Yes. You’ll remember, I’m sure, the Prince of Wales.” She said, walking us to the center of the platform where another two men awaited.

My father and the Prince of Wales greeted each other warmly, they were more used to running in the same circles – royal weddings here and there, international summits and meetings, or whatever it is they do.

“We’re so glad to have you.” He told my father.

“I don’t know if you’ve met my daughter, Princess Marie-Margueritte.”

Smiling, I curtsied to the Prince of Wales as he held my hand, before kissing my cheeks.

“You brighten this day, Your Royal Highness.” He told me, before stepping closer to add, in a whisper. “Sorry you have been dragged to this.”

I giggled, “I’m happy to be here, sir.”

Straightening up, he noticed my father was already greeting the man behind him. “Hopefully we won’t bore you too much. I have tried to bring someone else closer to your age. Have you met my son?”

The handler didn’t know it, but there were no introductions necessary. And yet, all I could do was smile politely as we were introduced to:

“His Royal Highness, Prince Harry of Wales.”

I wondered, for a moment, if he would acknowledge that we already knew each other.

“It’s a pleasure, Your Royal Highness.” Holding my hand in his, he brought my knuckles to his lips.

The answer was, obviously, no. So I lowered myself again in a curtsy as an excuse to avert my eyes from his.

I couldn’t understand why, but I had been unprepared for him. With all of Auguste’s preparation, all the briefings, with all the preachings about my appearance, no one had prepared me for him. I don’t know if it was that, like me, he was one of the youngest there, or how absurdly, almost ridiculously tall he was, or maybe how the blue in his eyes contrasted with the red of his hair, but he just… stunned me. When he kissed my hand, his eyes traveled down my legs all the way back to pierce mine, igniting a wave of electricity down my spine I was unable to control.

He leaned back, and there we stood, hand in hand, wordlessly.

“You can follow the King, ma’am.” Auguste whispered behind me, his voice making me jump slightly, as I quickly pulled my hand from Harry’s, not before realizing he had something scribbled on his palm.

My father and the Queen were deep in conversation, with Charles besides them, as they reached the center of the platform to watch the guards. The Queen in the middle, my father to her right, and the Prince of Wales to her left, I walked forward to stand beside my father, while Prince Harry walked to his.

We waited just a moment, and then the band started playing the Savoy National Anthem, and the British Anthem after it. A few words said, more ceremony here and there, and the Prince Wales formally invited my father to inspect the Guards, so they left together, accompanied by one of the military leaders to walk among the rolls of guards, as the three of us stood behind to watch.

“I was sorry to hear about your mother, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I said, looking regretful, walking towards her, closing the gap left behind by the others. “She was sorry she couldn’t be here.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious.” Prince Harry interjected.

“A sprained ankle.” I explained, looking ahead.

“Harry is also here after a small hiccup with the Duchess of Cornwall, my daughter-in-law.” His grandmother told me. “An illness in her family, nothing serious.”

“Hopefully I’ll have time to meet her before we leave.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” She nodded. “How did you mother hurt herself?”

“Horse fall. She was never very fond of Polo, I’m afraid this will drive her further away from it.”

“Oh, that is regretful.” The Queen said.

Harry looked at me. “Do you play?”

“I do, sir.”

“Harry is very good,” his grandmother told me, “he will be the one playing with you in the charity match in the coming days.”

“I look forward to-“, I started, but Harry had started the exact same sentence. We locked eyes, and chuckled.

“You first.” I said.

“Please, I insist.” He responded, cheeks reddening.

His grandmother looked between us, and then back to the uniformed men in front. She then said, in a low tone, something I would spend a large part of the upcoming months thinking obsessively about:

“Be careful with him... He will charm you, but he is a heartbreaker.”

The words astonished me so much I looked at her, unsure she had actually said them. But she had, clearly, because Harry was also looking at her, quite shocked.

“Granny!” he complained, in such a whiny tone I broke into laughter.

“Do I lie?” She asked him, grinning. It only made him look more shocked.

“Don’t ruin my reputation in front of foreign royals!” he said, in a low tone, before looking at me. “Specially such pretty ones.”

My giggle froze in my throat under his intense glare, and I could feel my cheeks reddening.

The Queen looked at me. “Oh, you’re blushing. It’s too late, I see.”

It was.

---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----

Margueritte’s outfit

The ask box is open! Let me know your thoughts? And if at all possible, like this page so I know you liked it? Thank you so much!

[A/N: Attention: by continuing to read you are accepting that some sad stuff is coming. You been warned. Thanks for checking this out! Let me know your thoughts?? thanks!!!!]

[A/N2: Hey! Nat here. I wanted to talk a little more about the story we are about to go on together.

In the upcoming chapters you will be introduced to the Royal Family of Savoy, a fictitious European country right below the UK, to left of France. When I first posted a fanfiction, FIUYMI, I made the main character latina, since that’s what I am, and I had previously felt that I couldn’t relate to other characters I had read. In this one, however, I decided I wanted to write about a fictitious monarchy, and I knew I wanted to make it as realistic as possible.

As much as I wanted at many points in the story to make the character look more like me, the idea felt like cheating: Margueritte is a blood royal, born to a life of specific privileges and hardships, and pretending she could look like the type of people who don’t have white privilege would be trying to ignore a very real issue: all monarchies - past and present - existed, lasted and gathered riches on the back of people of color. Most of their descendants still carry white and wealth privilege because these royal families, however many years ago, supported and perpetuated colonialism and white supremacy that left countless countries and their populations still recovering today.

That is a legacy Margueritte didn’t chose, and which she also doesn’t have to face, but in this story she will chose too. As you’ll see, she finds herself in a much more influential position she thought she would have, and as such she realizes she has two options: she can stick to the message her family - and other royal families - have perpetuated for generations and keep her head high, mouth and ears shut, so their legacy can survive; or she can chose to be a modern Queen who will make the institution relevant again. I want to write about this because this issue is important for the times we live in, particularly after the way the Duchess of Sussex was treated in the United Kingdom.

What that will look like will depend on who Margueritte is as a person and whose advice she takes, and that is a journey I hope you’ll take with us =) ]

#prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #princeharryff #royalfanficcollection #princeharryfanfiction #princeharryfanfic #brf #fanfic #fanfiction #modern royalty fanfic #chapters #modern royalty au #im so excited about this story #but also like #really nervous #i missed this

53 notes · View notes

liw-the-melancholic-apple · 4 years ago

Text

The First One - Bonus scenes in traditional written word

This is a smau and a zukoXreader, although i haven't decided how this ends yet.

Y/n has recently transferred to Ba Sing Se from Omashu university and meets the gaang through a schoolproject they do with sokka and suki.

Masterlist

Bonus 4: Good Morning

The sound of a machine of some sorts woke you up. A look out the window confirmed two things: It was still rather early and Haru’s parents’ neighbours had no idea what an appropriate time for high-pressure-cleaning patios was. Sighing you sat up and looked around. You found your shoes and thought you remembered where the bathroom was.

The short night definitely left its traces on you: Your clothes and hair looked deschevelled, you didn’t smell as fresh as you would like, you had dark circles under your eyes and your voice was rather hoarse. You did what you could without rummaging through the drawers of the bathroom, then you wandered through the house.

There were fotos everywhere. Most of them were of Haru, who you guessed didn’t have any siblings, but some had a very kind-looking couple on them. A wedding picture in which they both laughed at something happening out of frame. It seemed genuine, a true candid shot. He had his hand around her waist and her hand was in mid-air, presumably on its way to fix his tie for the actual wedding picture, but something must have had happened. They both were bending over laughing pointing out of frame looking at each other.

You studied the picture. I made you like the couple. It made you believe in their love and their relationship. It made you want to get to know them. Be a part of that happiness and trust and joy. There was no question why they chose to display this picture. It was amazing!

You watched the couple become parents, buy a house, get older and go through the decades that saw Haru grow from a baby into a smiley toddler, distracted child, unimpressed teenager and openhearted twenty-something. They seemed a happy family. Truly.

The journey through Haru’s life had left you at the front door and wanting some coffee. You found the kitchen empty but quickly discovered a coffee machine. While it was entirely too sophisticated for the broke student you were, you did manage to get it to spew out some dark and caffeinated goodness into a cup you found in the second cupboard you opened. With it you kept on strolling through the house until the living room introduced you to the French doors that lead into the garden. And boy, the garden!

You sat in that little paradise when your phone buzzed and Zuko begged you to talk to him. Apparently, he was at his uncle’s shop working the early shift and there was not a lot to do as it was Sunday. You texted back and forth for a good while.

Yesterday you hadn’t talked to him a lot, outside of him apologising for his uncle and the Sokka-rum-discussion. You know learned that he was a good nephew and studied International Business and International Relations. When you called him out as ambitious, though, he was quick to bring up the words pressure and expectations. You didn’t know him. And whatever those expectations and that pressure were about it seemed you weren’t competent to comment on it or them. Zuko struck you as a private person. You contemplated telling him exactly that. You didn’t. You conveyed the message, though. He seemed relieved. And he liked politics and diplomacy which told you a number of things:

Be wary of any promises he makes. He might be doing that politician thing where he doesn’t keep them

If you ever want to ruin somebody’s life or career, ask him how to do it, he will have learned about it and remembered

If you ever don’t know how to handle a conflict ask him, he’s into figuring out compromises and status-quo-situation

He probably gives good advice. The kind that will be good for you and not too offensive to others

He is smart

He is into reading

He can find the good in the bad.

After all it sounded like his parents made him study those subjects and if he had had a true choice he would have gone for something else. Yet, he found aspects that he enjoyed, that he could use in his life and that he could be passionate about.

He liked travelling

All in all he was intriguing. A lot of layers to peel back. Whether it be the interest in politics – which were a lot of smoothtalking, manipulation, using popular opinions AND ideologies, the fate and future of countries and people and so many struggles or the family history. You could probably have real conversations with him. And you decided you would like to as well.

Another thing you learned about Zuko was that he was Sokka’s secret source for his part of the Worldhistory project. In the past couple weeks Sokka had gone on and on about how much information he had gotten form an anonymous sponsor.

“Sokka made it sound like you were the discovery of a century!”

“Am I not?” No, for all you knew he wasn’t.

Yes, he was intriguing and most likely multi-layered; yes he was tall and dark and handsome and that scar on his face added several facets to that handsomeness; yes, he had that tea-loving angel of an uncle, but he was no discovery of a century. He was some good-looking guy with an interesting background.

“To be determined” Better not alienate him by telling him he wasn’t all that special. You still wanted to be his friend.

Could you have gone on for two more hours talking to Zuko? Yes. Yes. You could have. But you didn’t because there were footsteps in the house. And it sounded like they were coming from the kitchen. You got up to investigate. Hoping you’d find Sokka, Suki, Toph, Aang or Katara in the kitchen, you would have been okay with Haru, but instead you found an agile white haired gentleman. From the fotos you recognised him as Haru’s father. He was doing something to the sophisticated coffeemachine and congratulated himself. Then he turned around, saw you, got scared and nearly let his cup fall and crash on the kitchen tiles. Instead he just made a weird move with his arm that resulted in a wave of hot liquid jumping into the air and splashing on the floor.

“Ouch!”, the man screamed. “Who the hell are you?”

“Sorry, Sir. Y/n. I’m friends with… I know your son. Haru. We helped him pack up the party yesterday and he told us we could stay here. I assumed you knew…Excuse the intrusion, please.”

“Tyro”, he extended his hand. You shook it.

“You’re not intruding. Haru told us that some of his friends might stay over. I just didn’t expect anybody to be awake yet. And we don’t know each other.”

“Again, sir, sorry.”

“That cup empty?” Tyro pointed at the mug you had brought with you.

“Nearly. I took the liberty of drinking your coffee.”

“Do you want more? I can offer you black coffee and black coffee with milk from the fridge. The thing is supposed to be able to come up with all kinds of fancy drinks, but that’s more my wife’s department. I didn’t bother learning about that.”

“Black coffee would make me really happy, Sir.”

Tyro filled your cup and gestured for you to follow him back into the garden. So, you did. He asked about who you were and how you knew his son.

“To be honest, Sir, there isn’t a lot to tell. I moved to the city for this semester. Transferred from Omashu University. I’m studying anthropology. One of the classes I take together with Sokka and Suki, who are friends with Zuko who used to be Haru’s roommate. Aaaaaaand they brought me to the party yesterday. There I met Haru. The end.”

“You helped him tidy up the speakers and all that jazz after having only met him that night?” You nodded your head yes.

“Commendable.”

You carried on talking to Haru’s dad, brushing on the subjects of family, education and music. The band Haru played in was called “Grounded”. According to Tyro they were “just having fun” but they also “sounded like actual musicians”. This band needed to be inspected.

You told him about Gray Sky and Tiff on the Rocks, the pub you used to play. It turned out that Haru inherited his passion for music from his father. Dad all but interrogated you on you average guitar playing and experience with piano lessons, when his wife walked through the French doors.

She introduced herself to you and asked if you wanted more coffee. As she was the coffee-maker-whisperer, you now were offered the entire range of coffee-drinks and gladly accepted a Cappuccino the size of your head. After she mad you happy with that, she sent you back out, with the intention of preparing breakfast. You offered to help but were quickly shut down.

The moment you sat down in the lounge chair by big tree, Haru entered the kitchen, got a cup of coffee from his mum and was surprised to find you in musical discussion with his father. Thankfully, he did remember you and was delighted to hear that you were a fellow guitarist, even though he was likely a lot more skilled than you were. In fact, you said this multiple times, resulting in Haru running inside and grabbing one of his dad’s guitars.

You started by playing some of the 90's hits that Sokka had massacred the night before, proving that Haru was better than you. You handed the instrument back to him.

"How about You Oughta Know?", he suggested. You looked at him, blinking.

"You said you used to sing in Omashu. Let's hear it."

"Uhm…", you hesitated.

"I'm with stupid", Tyro chuckled. "I'm curious."

"Fine." You let Haru play a few tacts before you started the verse. He harmonised with you in the chorus, during which Tyro got another guitar.

From Alanis you moved to the Verve; from "Nothing compares 2 u", to "Loser". Haru and his dad loved the 90's. Nirvana, Take That, TLC, Blur, Oasis, Britney, Beasty Boys, you named it they had it. Aang, Katara, Suki, Sokka and Toph joined you three out on the patio, all carrying cups of various coffees and plates full of food. While harmonising to Tyro's lead you remembered that his wife had talked about preparing breakfast. From what you saw on your friend's - yeah friends! - plates, she had not held back. There were eggs and bacon, pancakes, bread, cinnaminrolls and meats, cheeses, jams, butter and honey.

When she herself came out to join the table, she carried a bowl of yoghurt and nuts, that she assured everyone was an option for everyone. Tyro got his own plate and dat down next to Sokka. He motioned for Haru and you to come eat but you two were determined to finish the decade. So, you did. And then you entered the 2000s. Every now and again you'd pick up the second guitar, while alternating with Haru singing lead and harmonising. You had the time of your life!

Haru's mum topped off your coffees and although your stomach was screaming at you to give it some of the wonderful smelling food, you played and sang for more than two hours. The others enjoyed your efforts and sang along when they were done eating. Tyro relieved his son of guitar duties and jammed with you while Haru diminished the pancakes.

He then took your spot and you praised the eggs, bacon and cinnamonrolls.

"If you're ever desperate for something to do, you're welcome to my appartment and put on breakfast!", you said, all but crying, after noon when you had finished. Haru's mum blushed. But die didn't say no.

After you had finished your breakfast, everyone helped clear the table and load the dishwasher. Tyro insisted you all had another round of coffee, during which there was more music and Sokka got the recipe for the hangover cure smoothie that Mrs Haru had made him as soon as he entered the kitchen.

You left around 2:30 with many "thank yous" and "you're the bests" and "we can help some mores". Although you hadn't slept much you decided to hit up the Jasmin Dragon to see if Zuko had died from boredom already.

#atla fanfic #atla zuko #avatar: tla #zuko x y/n #zuko x reader

17 notes · View notes

imagineofallkindsxxx · 4 years ago

Text

Eternal Flame- Part 6/?

No Need to be a Show Off

Summary: 'You never know whats in a persons heart until you truly know them' - Belle French, Once Upon a Time

Singing. Thats all what Alexandra Gilbert has cared about since she was young and all she would care about until she met him.

With Alexandra fighting vampires, werewolves and all between she may do a thing she vowed never to do, fall in love.

And to think it all started with a walk in the woods...

Needless to say history was a tad awkward after Rebekah made an appearance. I mean Elena and Bonnie were glaring at Rebekah throughout the entire period, not to mention the presence of Stefan, me giving James a kick and quietly reprimanding every time he attempts to stare at Rebekah like the creep he is. Nevertheless, I continued to listen to Mr Saltzman or Ric as he insists on me calling him. He is kind and has been looking after me and my siblings after the passing of Jenna and I respect and care for him.

After fifty minutes of being taught about Native Americans and wondering why I decided to take AP history for a subject when its genuinely the most mind numbing subjects, the bell finally rang which was the indication to pack up before going to the next class.

"Your homework for tomorrow is to read pages 14-20" Mr Saltzman said, at least its just reading knowing other teachers it’ll be full on essays. I sighed along with most of the class before going to our next class. James is in English while I'm in Chem, shame would love to see James and Mr Jones in the same room after yesterdays prank. I bid James goodbye before splitting up, I saw my twin up ahead and ran up as quick as I could in these shoes.

"Elena, care to tell me what the hell is going on? Why's Stefan here and not eating some sorority girl?" Confused at how my sisters boyfriend has chosen to spend his time at school. Her doe eyes look at me nudging me into the side of the corridor hoping less people will hear her.

"Its Klaus" I look at her to elaborate on it "He's told Stefan to watch his ‘new asset' so he’s here acting like he’s some control freak bodyguard" rolling her eyes

"Dick" I said plainly starting to walk with her

"Who? Klaus or Stefan?"

"Do I have to pick?" She laughed before stopping in front of her biology classroom

"This is me, talk later?" she questioned making me give her a strained smile. Honestly sometimes when alone we can get along its just when everyone else is there to complicate the matters. When I say everyone else I really just mean the Salvatore brothers.

I head along two more classes before hitting my chemistry class, looking around the class to see who would be the best person to be partners with for the year. That’s the one good thing about Jones is that he doesn’t believe in seating plans because 'its your fault if you fail." I searched the class then saw a shade of familiar blonde hair in a French plait with an empty seat, I race towards the blonde.

"Ashleigh Jackson." I said grinning at my best girl friend making her look up from the notebook she was most likely doodling on.

"Alexandra Gilbert" she exclaimed before giving me a hug before the teacher came into class. "I haven’t seen you for ever! How have you been?"

"I've been good, I've just been so busy, remember that program I decided to enter? Took up most of my time." I told her referring to the programme which helped children with hearing impairments with learning to play instruments or singing. "What about you though? How's Dylan?" I asked about her dick of a boyfriend but with the shift in her demeanour makes me wish I didn't.

"Me and Dylan broke up a few weeks ago." I looked at her in sympathy feeling horrible about asking but makes me pull my arm around her shoulder knowing that although I thought he was a terrible person Ash still loved him.

"Well... I guess this calls for a girl night. Popcorn. Cringey rom coms. Vodka." This made her laugh a little giving me a smile but before she could say anything Mr. Jones walked in to class.

"Welcome to AP chemistry. This is going to be a difficult and long lesson for not just you but me also." he starts off with making me roll my eyes at the asshole of teacher we are going to be forced to listen to for the rest of the year "Can any one tell me what empirical formula is?" Knowing what it is I wrote it down on my notebook while Ash put her hand up slowly.

"Miss Jackson"

"Is it the simplest ratio of molecules making up a compound?"

"Are you asking or telling me miss Jackson?"

"I'm telling you" she said with confidence.

"What is Coulombs Law?" He asked moving on from Ash, no one dared to put their hand up, to end this torture I put my hand up .

"Miss Gilbert?"

"Coulombs Law is the amount of energy that an electron has depends on its distance from the nucleus of an atom. It has the formula e=k(q1*q20)/r." I told him in the most confident manner.

"Correct. There’s no need to be a show off Miss Gilbert" He replied making me go scarlet learning that its more torturous answering his questions rather than the silence that issues when he asks one.

This continued for the next 10 minutes, the class answering questions then getting berated by the man supposedly supporting us.

Once he finished with his power trip he handed out work sheet. I looked over it and saw it was a five double paged work sheet. Making me wonder if this man should be a teacher at all.

"This is a worksheet so I can see your knowledge and capabilities. If you are below 70% correct you will be dropped from this class. You will get today and tomorrow to finish. You may begin. In complete silence." 70% is this guy mental? He hasn’t even began teaching and already judging us, pathetic. But we all done as he said and began the lengthy work sheet until the bell rang. He then took the work sheets back in while all of us rushed out of the class after packing up our stuff.

Once outside me and Ash began to talk once again.

"God I hate him." I said "'No need to be a show off'" I mimicked his annoyingly monotone voice making Ash laugh.

"'Are you asking or telling me Miss Jackson?' I don't know am I asking or telling you to go and slam your head against the lockers?" she said rolling her eyes making her grin when I gave a huge laugh.

"Ashleigh Jackson" I 'reprimanded'

"What? Makes a change from being you." God I love this girl she makes me forget the while Stefan/Klaus/Original/Dopelganger thing for a while.

"I have to get to class, talk at lunch so we can organise that girls night?" I questioned leaving her seeing her nod with a smile.

I walked into math and saw a hero haired vampire sitting in the middle of the class where I used to sit last year. I sat down next to him looking straight ahead.

"I think your in the wrong class, Elena is in French." I told him in a 'could care less that a hungry, ripper, free of humanity vampire is sitting next t me in my math class' tone but with my voice higher pitch and heart rate increasing I doubt he bought it.

"You see I would agree with you if I didn’t compel Kyle- you know Kyle, right? Anyway to look after her while I watch over you." He informed me of the compulsion of a class mate and borderline stalker tendencies.

"Me? Why?" I questioned doubting he’ll answer.

"Dunno, all I know is Klaus told me to look after 'The Gilbert twins' I didn't question it, don't really care to be honest" Making me roll my eyes. Klaus told him to watch over me? Why? I'm not a walking blood bank for his hybrids like Elena or his newly undaggered and potentially dangerous little sister, so why? Before I could attempt to question him albeit doubting I’d get any answers the teacher came in and started to give us a recap of what we would have done just before the start of summer. Mr Gold was always a decent teacher.

I tried to listen and take notes but it was difficult putting the question of Klaus interesting to the side and focusing on algebra. Before I knew it the bell rang. I stood up and got my stiff before rushing towards the door but got pulled back by the youngest Salvatore.

"What’s the rush Little Gilbert? You need to relax, be like me! That is what you told Elena earlier right?" he sarcastically questioned making me glare and get in his face.

"Yeah right after I told her to dump your ass and be like you 'don't care about anything'." Pulling my arm out of his grip and walking past the classes not missing Ric looking over worriedly giving me a look but I just nodded that I’m fine.

I walked into the class next to Rics my second favourite class. AP American Government and Politics. Its a big jump from music but its just something I get also helps to stop being treated like a child at functions when your able to talk about political situations, knowing more than the person your talking to.

I sat in the middle of the class not knowing any of the people in the class due to me being the only person in both supernatural and human groups whose remotely interested in politics well that was until a blonde original surprisingly walked into the class looking around to find a seat before sitting to at the front of the class unaware of my presence.

In front of me and the rest of the classes desks were a piece of paper listed 'Curricular Requirements' with the syllabus on it, while all of us were reading it another blonde came into the class however this was expected as it was Miss Gold and what the students have gathered is the cousin to my math teacher.

"Hello class, its lovely to see you all after the long break but I hope your ready to learn. For all those new faces let me introduce myself. I'm Miss Gold and I'm going to be your Advance Placement Government and Politics teacher. To start off I have given you all the syllabus and curriculum requirements for this year. I am going to start from the top down so be ready to learn about the foundations of American democracy." she told us writing on the board before turning to the class with a reassuring smile "now before I begin I just want to tell you all that there are no silly or stupid questions in this class and if you don't understand something let me know. Also, if any of you need anything or need to talk my door is always open." She told us, god she is basically the opposite of Mr Jones. So refreshing.

"Right we are going to do a recap from last year. What is the different structures of local, state and federal governments?" Waiting a minute to pick someone "Courtney" Courtney gave a swift and correct answer to the question Miss Gold asked.

"What is one of the founding principles that guided the establishment of the United States Government?" she looked around the sea of hands brief her eyes connected with Rebekah’s "I'm sorry I don’t know your name, miss..."

"Rebekah Mikaelson"

"Well Rebekah you may answer" she knew exactly what to say due to the fact how she probably knew the founding fathers and the principles they decided to use.

After the little quiz she decided to tell the class an overview of what the school year entails in a more detailed manner yet her soothing vice managed to calm the classes anxiety of the seemingly difficult year ahead. Although I was listening and taking notes my mind was still on how Stefan was told to 'watch over the Gilbert twins'. It was confusing how I had to be 'looked after' by a blood thirsty vampire for a reason the he isn’t aware of. Wonderful.

All I know now is that its lunch and that means music studio I go. Just as I was about to leave the cafeteria after picking up some lunch I saw Rebekah sitting their surprisingly alone. I would expect her to be swarmed by people but she was just alone looking down at her 'lunch'. I looked around before walking over to the blonde where she looked up at me.

"Hey, are you waiting on anyone?" I asked kindly as possible

"No. why?" Having a suspicious look on her face after hearing my friends talk about her in an unpleasant way and most likel not very subtly.

"Well I was just wondering if you wanted to come and sit with my friends?" I offered wondering if it was a good idea or not, my sister would kill me but honestly I can empathise with Rebekah, I was her in first day freshman year before I headed to music and met the three most important boys in my life- including Jeremy at this moment- and had a group that would last forever.

Rebekah smiled at me before nodding taking up my offer. I told her to follow me walking out of the cafeteria and down the hall to the music studio Mr Curtis lets us use at lunch and after school.

I heard the boys before I saw them meaning Rebekah probably heard them way back.

"-insane?! That is the worst song to pick!" I heard Sam yell, I stopped in my tracks making Rebekah stop and gave me a look of confusion.

"I'm mentally preparing myself to deal with an arguing group of men like children" this made Rebekah laugh a little bit

"No 'Gives You Hell' is a way better option than 'So Am I'!" Mark yelled

"There’s no way in hell am playing that song when-" I walked in at that moment partially regretting bringing Rebekah along to see this mess of a class.

"Thank God voice of reason is here!" He yelled up to the sky "What’s the best: 'Gives You Hell', 'So Am I' or 'Monster'?" I looked at them confused

"I thought we agreed on 'Mr Brightside' then 'Don't Speak' during the summer?" They all started at me for a few seconds taking in what I just said before remembering the conversation in the park where we picked the first two songs to sing when we perform at the Grille.

"Oh yeah."

"Forgot about that"

"Who's this?" Mark asked confused why their was a blonde in the room

"This is Rebekah. She's new and alone so I invited her to practice." I off handedly said

"Oh your in history with us!" James yelled

"Indoor voices Jamie" Sam reprimanded him making James throw a drum stick hitting him on the head making us laugh.

"Sorry about them. They’re literally children." I apologized for their behaviour watching them fight over the thrown drumstick while me and Rebekah ate our lunch.

"I grew up with five brothers, I'm used to it." Making me laugh. Five brothers. I only know about Klaus and Elijah. I dread to think there three more Klaus's come out of the woodwork.

"Are you boys done yet?" I asked over the nose giving them a look "We have a guest" making them look down like I was their mother giving them a row.

"He started it" Mark pointed to James.

"You litt-"

"Enough!" I point to Mark "Guitar" then Sam “Bass" and finally James "Drums. Now." Making them grumble before getting their instruments. "You don't mind us playing do you?" I ask Rebekah, she shook her head.

"Not at all, just wondering what type of music you play" she smiled sitting down on a chair we use occasionally. I stood on the stage before we began to play. Over and over again.

"...Cause I'm Mr Brightside" I finished.

"That was really good. You all have a gift. Especially you Alexandra"

"oooooh Alexandra" James said in a tone making Rebekah look confused as I attempted to hit him over the head

"She hates being called Alexandra" Sam filled in as I continued to try and hit him with his own drum stick. I composed myself before turning towards my new friend?

"Please call me Andie. Or Alex. Up to you really, just not Alexandra"

"As long as you call my Bex" she mirrored the smile on my face.

The bell rang before we had a chance to practice again only thing was that I had music and then a free. So just down the hall.

"What class are you going to?" she asked me, hoping her newly made friend was in the same class as her.

"Music. You?" getting my stuff together to walk down two class rooms.

"Math" I gave her a small smile.

"We'll be here until half four if you want to come along?"

"Thank you for the offer Andie but I'm trying out for cheer."

"Another blonde intelligent cheerleader, with any luck you’ll replace Jackson" I heard Sam say while walking past us making me hit him on back of the head "Nice to meet you Bex"

"Was a pleasure Bekah" Mark told her with a smile while walking by but James had to take it further by giving her a piece of paper.

"Call me Bex, love to get to know you more" giving her a wink

"Don't be a creep. Leave the poor girl be" giving him a glare then a push.

"In all serious here is my number" I gave her my number to put in her new phone "Text if you need anything" she gave me a grateful smile almost as if she was shocked at the kindness given to her by someone. "Enjoy math"

"I will she laughed as we split ways."

As we head into music where we saw Mr Curtis.

"Ah wonderful the whole band is here" making me smile at him. After the class filled he started to teach as it was a double everyone got bored except 'the teachers pet’s as everyone called us but we took it as a compliment. Just cause they don't understand the art of music like we do doesn’t mean they have to be a dick about it.

He told us to split into four and discuss a piece of music which would resonate with what he was talking about so we spoke about Mozart’s Requiem and how it relates to the music notes that we had to discuss.

Honestly the entire class went like that as Mr Curtis let us do anything for the second period as long as it had to do with playing or discussing music in some sort of fashion. This was usually the time we discussed original songs and what we would sing next week at the Grille. Today we were writing our last verse of our original song we are hoping to perform one day.

"Well what’s going on in this group?" Mr Curtis asked looking over our piece of paper "Original song?" we nodded bashfully.

"We have the bass and drum beat, most of the lyrics and just have to do the guitar solo." I told him which he smiled at seeing our appreciation and enthusiasm about music and making it, you can see it in his eyes that he has faith in us.

"Good luck. I better be the first one to hear it." he told us.

After half hour of that the bell rang insinuating that it was class over luckily for me it’s my last class of the day. The other three not so much.

"I hate you so fucking much.” Mark said the three boys jealous of how my last period was a free.

"Tough luck Mark, enjoy history" making him glare the boys leaving me. I decided to go to the bleachers and study a bit for the rest of the Chem test tomorrow.

"Alex!" I heard looking around I saw a cheerleader trying to get my attention seeing it was Caroline. I grabbed my stuff and stalked towards Caroline wondering what was wrong. I give her a look asking her to explain why she shouted my name.

"Were you hanging out with Rebekah today?!" she asked although she seemed to already know the answer.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Why? She's an evil slutty Original."

"Caroline!" I exclaimed "She's not a slut or evil she’s a lonely girl wanting the high school experience. give her a break." I walked away to the far away end of the bleachers not wanting to hear anymore 'warnings' about Rebekah. I studied well tried to anyway my mind still angry at how Caroline and the rest of the group only see black and white. they have to know there is a grey part. After studying for a good 20 minutes I felt someone sit next to me. I looked over to see the ‘evil slut’ herself.

“I take it from you not being in class you have a ‘free’? I believe that is what they are called?” I smiled a bit thinking about the lack of knowledge Rebekah has on 21st century slang.

“Yeah, it’s called a free. I come up here to study, its quiet and relaxing. What’s your excuse?”

“I’m going to try out for cheer. I better go. Something tells me I do not want to keep Caroline Forbes waiting.” I gave a laugh at the way she spoke out the baby vampire she could probably kill in a millisecond. "That was sarcasm by the way" I shake my head and chuckle a little.

“I’ll see you later. Good luck.” The bell rang two or three minutes after she left however, I waited a bit for students to leave or head to practice before heading back in to practice some more when. I walked by the girls trying out and shouted

“Good luck girls” walking back into school music room to practice with the boys. Hopefully it will be productive?

*************************************************

I'm missing the bonfire for this. One of the best parties of the year I mean Ash helped organize it and I’m missing it because of an annoying humanity-less vampire is running around town.

"I'll lure Stefan away from the bonfire. then when he's distracted..." Elena began to explain the plan as a whole with Alaric finishing.

"I’ll shoot him"

"Can't Bonnie just ju-ju him or something?" Damon suggested annoyingly.

"Yes great idea Damon. Lets get the witch to bail you and your brother out the hundredth time." I sarcastically replied thinking that they rely too much on the magic that Bonnie holds and it always end up with her hurt. Does he care? Absolutely not he’s Damon Salvatore after all. He glares at me intensely as I matched his expression.

"I'm trying to keep Bonnie out of this. I don't trust Stefan won't hurt her. Caroline are you covered?" my sister agreed making Damon remove his eyes from me and land on my sisters. Caroline answered my sisters question.

"Yes! I will make sure that the old Forbes jail cell is prepped and ready."

"We're forgetting a key player here. Rebekah?" this making me roll my eyes "Wherever Stefan goes, the blonde ponytail tends to follow." It would be Damon who made this remark I mean after all he’s perfect.

"Which is why it’s your job to keep her away" Elena tells Damon him having the easiest roll in this plan.

"How?!? She's an Original. Last time I checked, we're out of daggers." he complained, shocker.

"So preoccupy her with your charm" Elena told him, I’m not entirely sure if it was a joke or not.

"Might have better luck finding the dagger."

"What charm?" me and Ric both answered

"Are you ever not going to be mad at me for a day?" Damon asked both of us

"Doubtful"

"Unlikely"

Then right at that moment the newest hybrid came in late looking around like everything was just fine.

"Sorry I'm late. What's going on?" He asked the group.

"We need you to raid your mom's vervain supply. Enough to keep Stefan down for a while." Elena told him which to be fair was a good idea but Tyler didn’t think so.

"You can't do that to Stefan" He said looking confused and borderline angry at the group.

"Why not?" Caroline asked her hybrid boyfriend wondering what was with the new attitude.

"Ty he’s out of his mind he needs our help aka the vervain"

"Trust me Tyler, it's in his best interest" Me and Elena tried to convince him to help.

"But its not in Klaus's" He defended making me cock my head.

"But Klaus is the bad guy, Tyler. You know, why are you acting like some freaky, hybrid, slave minion" Caroline questioned her boyfriends behaviour. Slave? Could that mean?

"Uh-oh" I heard looking up it was Damon who was looking at Tyler suspiciously, I looked at the Salvatore and said

"He isn't?" narrowing my eyes as he made a look like 'looks like it Hun'

"What?" Ric questioned both the Gilbert and Salvatore being on the same page for once which was terrifying itself.

"Klaus made me who I am Caroline. I owe him everything." Tyler said once again defending Klaus

"Oh boy"

"He is"

"Okay can we cool it with the commentary, please." giving both of us a look.

"What's going on?" Elena questions wanting to be in the know of Tylers 'condition' but before anything else can be said Damon grabs a vervain dart from Rics desk with no one else noticing.

"I'm just going to go." He tried to escape and probably go to tell his master so as he starts to walk towards the door Damon vampire runs towards the young hybrids and injects him with the vervain dart making Tyler collapse.

"What are you doing?!?" Caroline exclaimed both shocked and angry.

"He's been sired." Damon vaguely explained the condition of the Lockwood.

"What?" Ric asks wanting clarification of what that means.

"Sired, he feels loyal to Klaus because Klaus's blood created him" I explained briefly.

"Loyal how?" Elena wanted more information on how Tyler is going to act.

"He'll seek acceptance from his master." I began with Damon finishing

"Its really rare. maybe not so much in hybrids"

"How do I fix him?" Caroline asks us, I smile sympathetically.

"Get a new boyfriend" Making eveyone in the room act in some sort of negative way towards him.

When we begin to set the plan into motion Damon grabs a hold of my arm.

"I swear the next Salvatore to grab me is going to get a pencil to the eye." he let go after I said that.

"How did you know about the sire bond?" I cocked my head furrowing my eyebrows

"I don't know."

I walked into the bonfire seeing Ash socialising, I gave her a little smile and wave before going over to Sam.

"I'm bored" he told me when I reached him "entertain me".

"I'm not a circus act Sam."

"You look like one" I gave him a look making him smile.

"I'm going somewhere I won’t be verbally abused."

"Where? You don't have any other friends" I narrowed my eyes grabbing his drink and downing it before shoving it back in his hand.

I walked over to the beer tap and got my own drink before settling my eyes on the annoying vampire and the blonde original. I have no idea how but he is actually managing to somehow charm Rebekah? Such an unusual concept. But just as I was about to stop stalking them and see if Ash is free it started to get interesting with Rebekah standing up speaking with Damon also standing before Rebekah stabs Damon in the stomach with a sit causing him to sit back down. The scene playing in front of me makes me laugh a little.

I walk around trying to find someone to socialise with and saw Sam, James and Mark sitting around.

"I'm bored as hell" Mark started

"No 'Hello Andie. How have you been?'" I said sarcastically

"I don’t particularly care though."

"Charming"

"Do you want to leave" James asked

"I've not drunk anything. Parents would kill me. I can drive?" all four of us agreed that leaving the party would be much more beneficial to our mental health.

"I'm telling you I reckon I have a chance with that Rebekah" James said making all of us laugh

"And I reckon your dr-" I started before stopping by falling over seeing blurry images of my friends making out bits and pieces. The back of my head throbbing I saw Sam and James running to get help at least that’s what I think they were doing.

My eyes were fluttering shut, I’m feeling really tired but I got slapped.

"No, don't you dare all asleep you still owe me ten bucks for that cinema ticket I paid for. You are not dying. You hear me!" I tried to keep my eyes open but they just closed. This is it I’m going to die. I felt Mark doing CPR while yelling something then all of a sudden I felt some metallic tasting liquid go down my throat making me open my eyes fully trying to pull away from the wrist of Damon Salvatore.

"Thank you" I muttered in begrudged gratitude.

"What!?" was the next think I heard.

"You were dead and now your..."

"I'm so confused what just happened?"

"Are they on vervain?" I heard Damon whisper in my ear while helping me up. I shook my head.

He walked over to the three if them

"You saw nothing. you four were bored at the party and decided to leave early. Alex didn’t fall, I didn’t feed her my blood, the four of you just left." he compelled making me look away from the three of them, feeling bad for taking away their memories.

"Hey Damon, what are you doing here?" James asked dubiously knowing my dislike for the vampire.

"I'm going to take Alex home to her sister. Lets go Alex" he pulled me away I stopped him and looked at my friends.

“I'll see you in homeroom tomorrow.” With a smile watching them walk away after saying goodbye.

He sped me to the Salvatore boarding house. The last time I was here I nearly died lets hope its not a repeat. I saw Elena and she looked smoky? And had a burn on her cheek?

"I've got cream for that burn mark. come with me" he beckons my sister to follow making me look at them curiously.

I sat on the couch closing my eyes not wanting to go anywhere near Damon’s room especially with Elena in it. I heard a noise, opening my eyes and looked up to see Ric.

"Where’s Elena?"

I pointed upstairs closing my eyes again before saying Damons room. After a few seconds Ric appeared with Elena.

"C'mon Alex time to go."

Three of us left the boarding house in a car that I didn't know making me question who owns this vehicle. Ric saw my confusion at the new car.

"My car got blown up." Not exactly the best explanation but the best they had so far

"Quite an eventful party"

*************************************************

A/N: This was huge but I thought I'd split it into two parts, the episode and the Rebekah/Ashleigh/band part.

Next chapter is the dynamic between Alex and Caroline which will be updated tomorrow

Also anything to do with the chemistry and/or politics classes came off the internet so if it's incorrect sorry.

Hope you enjoyed reading.

Any British slang, spelling or grammar problems let me know.

Please comment any positive or negative feedback

Thanks for reading Lovelies xxx

#kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson x you #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson series #the original imagines #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries #the originals

4 notes · View notes

thepenpalhub · 4 years ago

Text

Howdy, Y'all! So this is bound to be a super long post, one because I am super excited to find some more penpals, and two because I can’t ever do anything half way! So to sum up some of it I’m a seventeen year old ADHD Legal Studies college senior in Arkansas with a background in Political Science (USA) addicted to coffee looking for some penpals!

I’m currently sitting under the sunrise daydreaming up some new plots for a couple of stories I'm probably going to end up starting. In the process, I obviously started wondering deeper into the cosmos and questioning everything about life, for example, with the way 2020 is going, what's the probability of the zombie apocalypse breaking out? This pondering has lead me here, searching for some friends that hold the intellectual capability to have a serious not serious conversation, because in my opinion penpals and snail mailers are some of the greatest friends yet!

My name is Allison, though I’ve got a whole slew of nicknames that you could pick from if Allison is too much of a hassle ;D! Allie, Elle, and Allis being a few of them!

I’m your normal run-of-the-mill College student, besides the fact that I’m a college senior at seventeen and I graduated high school at thirteen! I’m studying Law, though I have a degree in political science as well! For reference, I will be turning eighteen within a month.

My goals in life include bringing light to the corruption and corrupted in politics and government, helping as many people as possible to better their lives and improve their state of living, and being as much happiness and joy to the world as I reasonably can! My career goals include achieving all the above through politics, public speaking, corporate ventures, and government!

So yeah, I’m a pretty ambitious gal, to the point that some people have claimed I’m overbearing and too interested in myself! While I might come across as overbearing or self-interested, I’m one of the most selfless people I know, and on top of that, I try to be as self-aware as possible so that I can continue to emotionally, intellectually, mentally, and physically improve myself! One of my motos in life is “to know where you're going you must first know where you’ve been”! Plus... I’ve just got a really really big personality!!

Let’s see, I am a Sagittarius, ENFP-t, and enneagram of 8! I am also a Slytherin! In my professional life, I like to compare myself to a much nicer version of Katerina Petrova… or Clarke Griffin (if you ignore the manipulative and kinda bitchy part of both… sometimes)! Though in my private life I tend to take on more of a child-like nature, in the sense of being cheerful, energetic, always curious, and kinda oblivious in certain situations! I do tend to be a bit bratty, blunt, and bossy though!

Moral of the story, you can probably expect some rambling and super cute designs slash miscellaneous things in your letter if we go the snail mail route!

I kinda have some pretty diverse and interesting taste when it comes to things I enjoy! I like to think I have the interests of an elderly person and personality of a child, but you can be the judge of that!

* I love politics, linguistics, diplomacy, history, stock markets, real estate, law, and philosophy!

* Hiking and swimming are probably two of my favorite outdoorsy activities!

* I adore the gun range, it is probably one of my favorite places to go (after malls and libraries)! Very American of me.... I know 😀

* Beekeeping is something I’ve been doing since I was a child, I currently have over four-thousand hives!

* Reading, writing, and painting are also some of my favorite things to do!

I’m a painter, who absolutely loves bright colors (I.e pink and yellow)! I don’t particularly have a favorite music genre, from rock to country and pop to opera/classical I’ll listen to anything (it all depends on mood)!

I like to consider myself the reigning queen of over-energetic happy-go-lucky bubbly people! *Bow down peasants!* Some people have claimed I’ve got major crackhead energy, without the crack! I just blame it on my caffeine addiction paired with really really bad ADHD!

I’m a bit of a girly girl, with a love for the preppy look, and a love for hair bows and leather jackets! I love dancing in the rain, going to parks, blowing bubbles, watching Disney, playing make-believe or whatever, and acting like I’m high on sugar 9/10! I mentioned I had a childish personality, though as I said, some people find it overwhelming!

I love reading and writing (both originals and fanfics... yeah I’m a groupie when it comes to tv/movie/book fanfics)! Currently, I’ve been really invested in fiction works, I’m nearly finished with the CL Stone Academy Ghostbird series (It's a reverse harem for those that don't know, I highly suggest it), which I started last week! Though I obviously have been keeping up with my lovely textbook readings and such (seeing as this week is Midterms and all)!

Oh!! I almost forgot I know three languages (not including English)! Spanish, French, and Russian! Though I’ve never had anyone to use the languages with, and I’m still in the process of learning Russian!

Side note, I'm a full-time college student that has multiple entrepreneurial businesses that I run, so I'm fairly busy! But I'm also super chatty and talkative, so there's that!

As for what I’m looking for! I’d love a best friend, someone that can put up with my amazingly hectic self, while also being able to hole and intelligent conversation.

I’m cool with an email pen-pal, a messaging pen-pal, or a snail mail pen-pal! Admittedly I’m currently in a crafty mood, specifically because the holidays, so snail mailing is probably at the top of my list at the moment! I just moved to a new location, which has been a blast, mountain people are so super sweet (coming from someone who grew up in the city) and I’ve officially managed to get my address and everything squared away! So that should be spectacular!

Age and gender identification don’t really matter to me, though I do connect with people older than myself a tad bit easier because my interests normally don’t line up with my peers! Similarly, people who have life goals, ambitions, and/or self-aware people are a serious weakness of mine, what can I say, I'm a sapiosexual, both in regards to romantic relationships and friendships, the brain is the most beautiful part of the human. Similarly in that fashion, I am also demisexual and pansexual.

I'm looking for something long-term, whenever I start something I pour 100% into it, and I expect 100% back! My time is a delicate thing, and even though I'm ridiculously busy I love sharing it with others! I would also be interested in exchanging photos early on with people that pique my interest, both for verification purposes, and because I prefer to put a face to a name. Similarly, your location does not particularly matter, domestic or international pen pals are welcome! I would love to be able to put some of my languages to use, however, but all cultures are welcome!

Anyways! I’d love to get to know you, so please shoot me a message and we’ll see where it stands and where we land! I’ll try to respond to all messages, but I can’t stand small talk, so if you just send a “hey” with no context or a few other words like “hyd” I probably won’t respond (and imma blame it on my Adhd)! I mean.... I did mention I love long messages!!

Can’t wait to hear from y’all!

And I hope everyone has a spectacular day and night!!

My email is [email protected] for anyone who wants to reach out there! Or you could just message me on Tumblr!!

8 notes · View notes

djmunden · 4 years ago

Text

Thousand Scars Author Interview

Hey guys, back with a new isolation interview! I’ll have an SPFBO author interview ready for the weekend, but I’d like to bring back an old survivor of the Scar den in Deston Munden. Hope you guys enjoy!

First of all, tell me about yourself! What do you write?

Hello again! I’m Deston J. Munden, former SPFBO writer and now resident stuck in the house author. I’m a science fiction and fantasy author who is surviving all this craziness by stuffing his head full on Dungeons and Dragons characters and learning how to cook neat food. I’m the author of two series, Dargath Chronicles and Dusk Orbit Blues, both which are getting an audiobook real soon. It’s a pleasure to be back.

How do you develop your plots and characters?

I’ve been asked this quite a few times and I never feel like my answers are satisfactory, but nevertheless true. They just kinda come to me. There are small inciting events that makes me want to develop a character or a plot. It could just be me sitting and reading. It could just me be playing a game or roleplaying a completely unrelated character. From there, I put them on what I called the simmer mode. I slowly develop them in my head until they are ready for the drafting phase.

Tell the world about your current project!

Dargath is a fun, high fantasy world that I created a while back. It’s a world where everyone has magic and no one is truly human. I wanted to create a world where magic was a common stance and everyone has a degree of it that is unique to them. Also, I wanted a world where the reader doesn’t go in with the natural biasness of starting with a human. Yes, there are human-like races, but I wanted to have this mystical feeling to everything. The world is split into two continents, eight races, and plenty of subraces. It’s rich in history, politics, and turmoil while also having that classic dungeons and dragons type of feeling to the world. If that seems like your type of thing, try me out!

Who would you say is the main character of your latest novel? And tell me a little bit about them!

Ser Torlyek is the main character of the novel that is coming out later this year. I’ve been marketing him as Neville Longbottom meets Thor from the MCU and Steven Universe. He’s my first autistic main character who adores knights and honor beyond anything else. He’s also a complex character who has a deep backstory with his family. Duke’s Brand follows him as he comes to terms with who he is now as well as him making friends along the way. I hope that you guys enjoy him as much as I enjoyed writing him.

Have you been to any conventions? If so, tell me a little about them!

I’ve been to so many conventions! They are some of my favorite places to go for vacations. They are so lively and powerful, and you get to meet so many fellow nerds. My goal this year was to finally sell my books at a convention. Sadly, that didn’t happen. Now, I’m going through convention withdrawal. If you never gone to a convention before, I’ll honestly suggest that you try it out. There are so many cool things that you can find and you’ll meet so many cool people.

When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?

I realized that I wanted to be a writer when I was young. Luckily, none of my teachers tried to squash that love. Instead, they tried their hardest to cultivate the talent that they saw. I always wrote fan fictions and loved the creative writing assignments given to me. But, it wasn’t until after college where I realized this was a career I could do. Self-publishing opened an entirely new opportunity for me and ever since I’ve been pushing myself more and more to expand my dream into a reality.

If you had the opportunity to live anywhere in the world for a year while writing a book that took place in that same setting, where would you choose?

Rome, hands down. There’s so much history there that I would love to explore and set a story within. I think it would be fun to explore the mythology and the people of rome and wrapping that up in a story that I would write.

What advice would you give new writers?

Finish. That. First. Draft. I’ve seen so many new writers get into what I call the world building loop or worse the first chapter loop. Its when a new writer keeps world building or writing the first chapter endlessly until the end of time. That is not how you’re going to improve. You’re going to have to finish that first draft at one point or another. Not to say pre-writing is not important, however, if you’re stuck on it you need to start on the first draft. As a new writer, learning how to finish a project is key.

What real-life inspirations did you draw from for the worldbuilding?

Too many. I usually get inspiration from history, cultures, food, architecture, generally whatever that I think would make my world feel richer and livelier. Each of the races are inspired somewhat after certain regions of our world albeit blended in such a way to better fit the region I’m going for. I’ve used things from Africa, the Middle East, Medieval Europe, Egypt, etc to make my world feel stronger and cohesive. It’s a fun experience as a history and culture nerd.

What inspires you to write?

I enjoy it. That’s the long and short of it all. Writing is a passion of mine. I love sitting down at the computer and letting my imagination go wild. There’s a magic to it all. I used to write after I finished my schoolwork in class just for fun. I didn’t realize that was weird until my teacher saw me doing it while everyone else was playing games on the computer. Writing is my creative outlet and without it I might burst.

What is the hardest part of writing for you?

The hardest part for me is keeping the pace with everything. There’s a lot that goes into be an author. Some days I just want to sit down and write, but I know I can’t do that all the time. There are days where I’m going to have to research, do my social media, and market the books I already have released. Managing my time has become quite difficult.

What is your routine when writing, if any? If you don’t follow a routine, why not?

My routine is usually 8-4 every weekday. If I don’t follow this schedule, I will and can work myself to death.

What was your favorite chapter (or part) to write in any of your books, and why?

This is spoiler territory. There’s a certain scene in Tavern that I really enjoy that has made people lose their marbles and I always laugh manically about when I get a message about it. Recently though, I’ve been getting a lot of “OMG” about a certain scene in the middle of Dusk Mountain Blues. It makes me giggle. I might be evil.

What these two scenes have in common is that I throw the reader for a loop. I love doing that.

Did you learn anything from writing your latest book? If so, what was it?

Writing Duke’s Brand and Dusk Ocean Blues taught me a lot how to condense my writing style a bit. Lately, I’ve been trying to hone my writing style a bit. I feel like writing these two books has helped that a lot going forward.

Are you a plotter or a pantser? A gardener or an architect?

I am definitely a pantser. I’m all about writing it and winging it until I get to the second draft.

If you had to give up either snacks and drinks during writing sessions, or music, which would you find more difficult to say goodbye to?

Definitely snacks. I can give up music if I had to, but snacks I need to survive. I can’t imagine how I’ll get through certain parts of my novel without snacking on some chips or some other ungodly unhealthy food or beverage.

Which is your favorite season to write in, and why?

Spring. There is something about the temperature and the outside environment that brings out the power in me.

It’s sometimes difficult to get into understanding the characters we write. How do you go about it?

It’s all about learning how that character ticks. The big thing I’ve realized about getting in the mindset of a character is knowing their motivation. A person drive and ambition tell a lot about the character as a whole and getting into the mindset of them. You gotta realize what they want to realize who they are. From there, I think, their personalities, dreams, relationships, etc becomes more apparent the more you write it.

What are your future project(s)?

Dusk Ocean Blues (Book 2 of Dusk Orbit Blues)

Undergrove (Book 3 of Dargath Chronicles)

Dusk Country Blues (Book 3 of Dusk Orbit Blues)

What is your favorite book ever written?

I’m pleading the fifth here. I enjoy all the books that I’ve written so far. There are parts where I feel like I’ve done better in this book while others in that one. So at the end the day, I can’t choose.

Who are your favorite authors?

Traditionally Published: Brandon Sanderson, Patrick Rothfuss, Michael J. Sullivan, Robert Jordan, Scott Lynch, Jonathan French, Brent Weeks, Sean Grisby, and Gareth L. Powell, Renee April.

Self Published: James Jakins, Emmet Moss, Deck Matthews, Andy Peloquin, Bernard Bertram, Garrett B. Robinson.

There’s probably a million more.

What makes a good villain?

A good motivation and a strong personality. I’m the type of person that enjoys a big personality in my villain over sheer fear and power they may possess. The villains that have a good time while also having depth speak out to me. Yes, I do enjoy the looming dark lord type villain as well, but if I can somehow get both I’m a happy camper.

What do you like to do in your spare time?

Cooking! It’s my favorite past time other than video games and tabletop RPGs. I’m not as good as it as other people, but I’m trying my best and I’m learning every day!

If you couldn’t be an author, what ideal job would you like to do?

A chef! Like I said before, cooking is a fun hobby and being a chef/cook would be a fun job for me. I also like to bake, so a baker would be not too far behind. I just like working with food.

Coffee or Tea? Or (exult deep breath) what other drink do you prefer, if you like neither?

Tea! There are so many different types of teas and most which I can drink (because I can’t have a lot of caffeinated beverages). I prefer fruity teas, but I’m willing to try any of it.

You can travel to anywhere in the universe. Where would you go, and why?

Whew. I don’t know. I’ll probably want to try to find new planets to explore, specifically with new life.

Do you have any writing blogs you recommend?

No. I don’t have any writer blogs that I’ll recommend but check out the #writerblr tag on tumblr if you need any inspiration!

Do you have any writer friends you’d like to give a shoutout to?

Nicky Ball, Kathryn York, Hallie Fleischmann, Chris Barber, Dave Deickman, Emmet Moss, Bernard Bertram, and Deck Matthews to name a few!

Pick any three fiction characters. These are now your roadtrip crew. Where do you go and what do you do?

Clay Cooper from Kings of the Wyld, Matrim Couthon from Wheel of Time, and Wayne from The Alloy of Law.

We’re gonna go on a rock-star tour and we’re gonna cause some trouble.

What superpower would you most like?

Super Strength. I know that’s a simple power to want to have but it would just make my life a whole lot easier. Being able to pick up a lot of things would be amazing.

What are two of your favorite covers of all time? (Not your own.)

Kings of the Wyld by Nicholas Eames

Eye of the World by Robert Jordan

It’s a very difficult time right now for the world. When quarantine and pandemic comes to an end, what is the first thing you would like to do?

Travel more and meet some of my online friends. My goal this year was to travel more, get out there, and meet some of the people that I’ve been talking to for ages. The quarantine and pandemic put that to a screeching halt. I want to go to more conventions, I want to see more places, and I want just enjoy life more. This whole situation made me realize that I haven’t been out nearly as much as I want to be.

Finally, what is your preferred method to have readers get in touch with or follow you (i.e., website, personal blog, Facebook page, here on Goodreads, etc.) and link(s)?

Remember to follow me everywhere below and it was great coming back!

Website: www.djmunden.com

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Deston-J-Munden/e/B07Q2D6948/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/SrBuffaloKnight

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authordjmunden/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/D.J.Munden/

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18874896.Deston_J_Munden If you have Kindle Unlimited, both of my books are available there too!

10 notes · View notes

46ten · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! I love your blog and find it very informative! Could you write something about AH relationship with James Monroe?

A lovely early friendship torn apart by political rivalry and misunderstandings that descended into harsh accusations, duel invitations, and never-ending Hamilton family hatred for the man? You can read the letters between them that Founders has here. I am unaware of AH ever discussing his opinion on Monroe in greater depth than what I’ve quoted below, and I’m completely unaware if Monroe ever offered a lengthy opinion on AH personally. There’s a new Monroe biography out (James Monroe: A Life by Tim McGrath) that may be more interesting than anything I write about.

But I’ll try. Things must have started out okay between them. They were both at the Battle of Trenton (Monroe was wounded). Monroe then served as aide-de-camp to William Alexander, Lord Stirling, whose brother-in-law was AH supporter William Livingston and daughter was Catherine Alexander, who would marry AH Treasury right-hand-man William Duer. They spent time at Valley Forge together, they both became good friends with Lafayette, etc. AH wrote positively of Monroe in 1779 to John Laurens:

Monroe is just setting out from Head Quarters and proposes to go in quest of adventures to the Southward. He seems to be as much of a night errant as your worship; but as he is an honest fellow, I shall be glad he may find some employment, that will enable him to get knocked in the head in an honorable way. He will relish your black scheme if any thing handsome can be done for him in that line. You know him to be a man of honor a sensible man and a soldier. This makes it unnecessary to me to say any thing to interest your friendship for him. You love your country too and he has zeal and capacity to serve it. 22May1779

With notes of recommendation from Hamilton, Lord Stirling, and Washington, Monroe became a lt. col, but with no field command available (AH certainly sympathized), he decided to resume his studies instead of continuing with the Army. He went on to become a member of the Continental Congress, etc.

In Feb 1786, Monroe (age 27) married Elizabeth Kortright at Trinity Church NY, with Rev. Benjamin Moore presiding (see here for my notes about the Hamiltons’ church affiliation). The Hamiltons may have attended; EH gave birth to Alex Jr. three months later. Elizabeth was the niece of Cornelius Kortright, who was a frequent business partner of Nicolas Cruger, AH’s old boss on St. Croix (AH worked for Kortright & Cruger 1769-1771). So Monroe - as did many others - likely had knowledge of AH’s personal background (and despite the current narrative surrounding AH, at the time almost no one seemed to care or consider AH’s background especially noteworthy; AH also freely introduced his cousins to friends, so it’s not at all clear that he ever thought he had something to hide and offered up the “blemish” of his parents’ relationship/his illegitimacy to several people).

But Monroe was a friend of Jefferson and Madison and ended up on their side politically (Monroe preceded Madison as an anti-federalist). His position in the Senate, and his authorship of articles in response to AH’s articles (written under several pseudonyms) all certainly aggravated AH.

And then there was the matter of Gouverneur Morris. In 1792, Monroe was one of the people trying to block the appointment of G. Morris as U.S. Minister Plenipotentiary to France. (Read an account of Morris’ actions in France/England here and enjoy the pettiness of his leaving Thomas Paine in jail.) In 1794, Monroe replaced Morris as Minister to France (1794 to 1796). He opposed AH as Minister to Great Britain (x) and his reasons are pretty sound and fair-minded (John Jay famously got the position and a treaty named after himself). Monroe was replaced in June 1796, both for anonymously publishing letters criticizing Washington and just not doing as the Federalists wanted, and replaced by Pinckney. Of course, AH played a part behind the scenes in encouraging his replacement and choosing Pinckney.

So by the 1790s they are political rivals, with Monroe writing in defense of Jefferson and Monroe blocking the appointment of AH’s friends/allies and AH interfering with Monroe’s business and encouraging his removal.

But in 1797, things got really personal. Rewinding to Dec 1792, Monroe was contacted by a jailed James Reynolds, who offered information about acting as AH’s agent/partner for speculation on gov’t securities. (Why Reynolds was in jail is a great deal more complicated than this, but I’m skipping all that.) Monroe investigated, got others involved, got the disclosure from AH himself that the money was actually because of blackmail over an affair with Maria Reynolds and produced letters showing this and gave letters and asked for copies of theirs, etc. (I think this part has been written about a lot, so I’m not going to go into further details). Five years later, the following was AH’s recollection of the matter (written to Muhlenberg and Monroe, 17July1797):

It is very true, that after the full and unqualified expressions which came from you together with Mr Venable, differing in terms but agreeing in substance, of your entire satisfaction with the explanation I had given, and that there was nothing in the affair of the nature suggested; accompanied with expressions of regret at the trouble and anxiety occasioned to me—and when (as I recollect it) some one of the Gentlemen expressed a hope that the manner of conducting the enquiry had appeared to me fair & liberal—I replied in substance, that though I had been displeased wtih the mode of introducing the subject to me (which you will remember I manifested at the time in very lively terms) yet that in other respects I was satisfied with and sensible to the candour with which I had been treated. And this was the sincere impression of my mind.

But actually, Monroe didn’t entirely believe AH’s account (”I hate you” point number 1) and conducted his own further interviews with Clingman and Maria Reynolds, which AH would only learn about in 1797 with the publication of pamphlet V of the History, but then Monroe pretty much left it alone, by his own account. He stated he sent all papers about this to a friend in Va (more on this below), and this is where the matter rested publicly for nearly five years.

But it’s not a real secret. By spring 1793, everyone in major political circles knows about it (and EH knew about it, it’s impossible for me to believe she didn’t). In under a week back in Dec 1792, Monroe, Wadsworth, Wolcott, Venable, Muhlenberg, Randolph, Webb, Beckley, and Jefferson all know, and Clingman talks freely. AH had permitted copies of letters to be made (and according to Monroe’s account, knew Beckley’s clerk had copied them), and on and on. BUT, no one is going to publish stuff about it - the confession of an extramarital affair would have been seen as a private family matter that would only serve to disturb “the peace of the family” - indeed, for AH naysayers then and historians since, claiming adultery was a convenient excuse if there was financial impropriety, because the matter wouldn’t be vigorously pursued further. (Philadelphia was a huge city for prostitution, and no one wanted the private sexual escapades of famous men broadcast to the world.) AH, I’m sure, knew everyone knew too, but worked from an understanding that no one was going to try to score political points on something that would expose his wife to public ridicule. But even though it was private, it was still Great Gossip! If AH was willing to taunt TJ publicly about Sally Hemings and, according to TJ, privately about his sexual pursuit/harassment 30 years ago of Elizabeth Moore Walker (wife of one of TJ’s best friend), and J. Adams is still repeating crazy gossip about AH 30 years later, you better believe there were references made to this affair at parties, gatherings, etc. EH dealt with it however she dealt with it, and I hope that AH’s “I have paid pretty severely for the folly” confession refers to some harsh treatment by EH.

And then in June 1797 Callendar began publishing pamphlets (lost to history except where AH quotes them in the Reynolds Pamphlet), some of which were gathered in some unknown order in his The History of the United States for 1796. Remember that Monroe was recalled from France in July 1796. It seemed to be a persistent belief of the Hamilton family that Monroe authorized and perhaps himself gave copies of the letters to Callendar for publication (”I hate you” point number 2).

And to be clear, because this gets muddled in some historian’s accounts - Callendar publishes AH’s account of his “particular connection” to Maria Reynolds and continues to goad him about it in published pamphlets and letters throughout June and July 1797 (the “harassment” of AH on this point in vague terms in pamphlets and newspaper letters actually started at least as early as 1795). AH’s confession in his own pamphlet was not an out-of-the-blue revelation of an affair that hadn’t already been publicly revealed.

Why would Monroe do this, in the Hamilton mind? Because he was pissed about no longer being French minister and blamed AH - he took a political dispute and decided to drag the Hamilton family into it. His delay in responding to AH, however, was likely seen as some kind of admission of guilt. On 5July1797, AH wrote to Monroe:

[Quoting from pamphlet V of the History] “When some of the Papers which are now to be laid before the world were submitted to the Secretary; when he was informed that they were to be communicated to President Washington, he entreated in the most anxious tone of deprecation, that the measure might be suspended. Mr Monroe was one of the three Gentlemen who agreed to this delay. They gave their consent to it on his express promise of a guarded behaviour in future, and because he attached to the suppression of these papers a mysterious degree of solicitude which they feeling no personal resentment against the Individual, were unwilling to augment” (Page 204 & 205). It is also suggested (Page 206) that I made “a volunteer acknowledgement of Seduction” and it must be understood from the context that this acknowlegement was made to the same three Gentlemen.

The peculiar nature of this transaction renders it impossible that you should not recollect it in all its parts and that your own declarations to me at the time contradicts absolutely the construction which the Editor of the Pamphlet puts upon the affair.

I think myself entitled to ask from your candour and justice a declaration equivalent to that which was made me at the time in the presence of Mr Wolcott by yourself and the two other Gentlemen, accompanied by a contradiction of the Representations in the comments cited above. And I shall rely upon your delicacy that the manner of doing it will be such as one Gentleman has a right to expect from another—especially as you must be sensible that the present appearance of the Papers is contrary to the course which was understood between us to be proper and includes a dishonourable infidelity somewhere.

And AH went ahead and wrote the following to editor John Fenno defending himself (6July1797):

For this purpose recourse was had to Messrs James Monroe, Senator, Frederick A. Muhlenbergh, Speaker, and Abraham Venable, a Member of the House of Representatives, two of these gentlemen my known political opponents. A full explanation took place between them and myself in the presence of Oliver Wolcott, jun. Esq. the present Secretary of the Treasury, in which by written documents I convinced them of the falshood of the accusation. They declared themselves perfectly satisfied with the explanation, and expressed their regret at the necessity which had been occasioned to me of making it.

But Monroe had just returned from France in June 1797, and he denied any prior knowledge of Callendar’s publication, and in general seemed to have had a “WTF!” reaction to AH’s sudden accusations. According to David Gelston’s account of the meeting between AH and Monroe on 11July1797:

Colo. M then began with declaring it was merely accidental his knowing any thing about the business at first he had been informed that one Reynolds from Virginia was in Gaol, he called merely to aid a man that might be in distress, but found it was a Reynolds from NYork and observed that after the meeting alluded to at Philada he sealed up his copy of the papers mentioned and sent or delivered them to his Friend in Virginia—he had no intention of publishing them & declared upon his honor that he knew nothing of their publication until he arrived in Philada from Europe and was sorry to find they were published. (my emphasis)

AH was so agitated that this conversation went downhill from there, seeing that “[AH] expected an immediate answer to so important a subject in which his character the peace & reputation of his Family were so deeply interested.” And then (”I hate you” point number 3):

Colo. M then proceeded upon a history of the business printed in the pamphlets and said that the packet of papers before alluded to he yet believed remained sealed with his friend in Virginia and after getting through Colo. H. said this as your representation is totally false (as nearly as I recollect the expression) upon which the Gentlemen both instantly rose Colo. M. rising first and saying do you say I represented falsely, you are a Scoundrel. Colo. H. said I will meet you like a Gentleman Colo. M Said I am ready get your pistols, both said we shall not or it will not be settled any other way. Mr C [John Church] & my self rising at the same moment put our selves between them Mr. C. repeating Gentlemen Gentlemen be moderate or some such word to appease them, we all sat down & the two Gentn, Colo. M. & Colo. H. soon got moderate, I observed however very clearly to my mind that Colo. H. appeared extremely agitated & Colo. M. appeared soon to get quite cool and repeated his intire ignorance of the publication & his surprize to find it published, observing to Colo. H. if he would not be so warm & intemperate he would explain everything he Knew of the business & how it appeared to him.

Monroe called him a scoundrel to his face! (After having been called a liar.)

And THEN, Monroe refused to sign a document absolving AH of any accusations of financial speculation with Reynolds (”I hate you” point number 4).

If I cod. give a stronger certificate I wod. (tho’ indeed it seems unnecessary for this with that given jointly by Muhg. & myself seems sufficient) but in truth I have doubts upon the main point & wh. he rather increased than diminishd by his conversation when here & therefore can give no other.

The above was sent to Burr on 16Aug 1797. AH had already pled his case to Monroe:

“...there appears a design at all events to drive me to the necessity of a formal defence—while you know that the extreme delicacy of its nature might be very disagreeable to me. It is my opinion that as you have been the cause, no matter how, of the business appearing in a shape which gives it an adventitious importance, and this against the intent of a confidence reposed in you by me, as contrary to what was delicate and proper, you recorded Clingman’s testimony without my privity and thereby gave it countenance, as I had given you an explanation with which you was satisfied and which could leave no doubt upon a candid mind—it was incumbent upon you as a man of honor and sensibility to have come forward in a manner that would have shielded me completely from the unpleasant effects brought upon me by your agency. This you have not done.

On the contrary by the affected reference of the matter to a defence which I am to make, and by which you profess your opinion is to be decided—you imply that your suspicions are still alive. And as nothing appears to have shaken your original conviction but the wretched tale of Clingman, which you have thought fit to record, it follows that you are pleased to attach a degree of weight to that communication which cannot be accounted for on any fair principle. The result in my mind is that you have been and are actuated by motives towards me malignant and dishonorable; nor can I doubt that this will be the universal opinion when the publication of the whole affair which I am about to make shall be seen.” 22July1797

In his mind, AH then believed he had to make a full accounting of the whole Reynolds debacle, since this jackass Monroe wasn’t going to sign-off on a denial of the whole matter of financial speculation on government securities. And back to the Hamilton family ire - it seemed that Monroe was not going to stop them from being slandered and dragged by doing what they felt he had already done - agreed that AH did not engage in financial speculation with Reynolds. Because Monroe would not acquiesce on that one matter, the Reynolds Pamphlet with all its detailed glory/humiliation where AH had to lay out his whole case was published, at least in the spin that occurred in the Hamilton family mind. (I’ve already written about the Reynolds Pamphlet here and here and briefly here and addressed a question about AH and infidelity here.)

Who was this “friend in Va?” Some historians have written this was TJ, but there are letters from decades later that Madison was the person who received the original letters and copies that Monroe had re Reynolds investigation, and they remained unopened until Monroe returned to the U.S. in 1797:

I have always understood from Mr. Monroe, that when he left this country he deposited with you, his packet of papers, relating to the investigation into the conduct &c of Genl. Hamilton—which was never opened, until it was returned by you to him, after his mission had terminated, and after the developement of its contents had been made from an other quarter. It would be very gratifying to me, if you have any facts, within your immediate reach, respecting the matter,if you would cause them at a leisure moment, to be communicated to me—The subject to which I refer, was, as you no doubt know, one of great feeling & excitement subsequently between Genl. H. & Mr. M., arising from causes of which I am aware, & particularly from the impression made on Genl. H. or the declaration by him of the belief, that the contents of the papers referred to, were made public by Mr. M—The children of Genl. H. have always indulged a feeling on this subject towards Mr. M. which renders it desirable that all the evidence in the case should be procured by his family. It has occasionally been hinted to me, that in a proposed publication of the Life of Genl. H., the subject might be touched, and it is equally my duty, as it would be my inclination, under such circumstances to have it in my power to do full justice to the character & memory of Mr. M. on this, as on all other occasions, where either might even by implication be assailed—I feel great reluctance in troubling you on the subject, but a conviction that you will appreciate my motives, impels me to do so. Samuel L. Gouverneur to James Madison, 1Feb1833

S.L. Gouverneur was the son-in-law of James Monroe (married their daughter) and nephew of Elizabeth Kortright Monroe. (Yes, he married his first cousin.) From the draft of Madison’s response (Feb 1833, Founders does not have a copy of the letter sent, if it’s still in existence):

I can only therefore express my entire confidence that the part Mr. Monroe had in the investigation alluded to, was dictated by what he deemed a public duty; and that after the investigation he was incapable of any thing that wd. justify resentful feelings on the part of the family of General Hamilton.

Of the public disclosure of the matter of the investigation, other than that from the avowed source, I know nothing; except that it could not proceed from the packet of papers deposited with me by Mr. M., which was never opened until it was returned to him, after his Mission had terminated.

Back to the main topic: the Hamiltons clearly saw Monroe playing a decisive role in the whole thing. But who was actually responsible for passing copies of letters to Callendar? Monroe was sure it was Beckley, former House clerk:

You know I presume that Beckley published the papers in question. By his clerk they were copied for us. It was his clerk who carried a copy to H. who asked (as B. says) whether others were privy to the affr. The clerk replied that B. was, upon wh. H. desired him to tell B. he considered him bound not to disclose it. B. replied by the same clerk that he considered himself under no injunction whatever—that if H. had any thing to say to him it must be in writing. This from B.—most certain however it is that after our interviews with H. I requested B. to say nothing abt. it & keep it secret—& most certain it is that I never heard of it afterwards till my arrival when it was published. Monroe to A.Burr, 2Dec 1797, in a letter that may have never gotten to him (entrusted to TJ)

Others at the time also believed it to be Beckley, though one historian suspected Tench Coxe too. Why was this ever published? Well, Callendar wrote in the History that it was because of the treatment of Monroe:

Attacks on Mr. Monroe have been frequently repeated from the stock-holding presses. They are cowardly, because he is absent. They are unjust, because his conduct will bear the strictest enquiry. They are ungrateful, because he displayed, on an occasion that will be mentioned immediately, the greatest lenity to Mr. Alexander Hamilton, the prime mover of the federal party.

Theodore Sedgewick told Rufus King it was Beckley, too and provides another motivation:

The House of Representatives did not re-elect Mr. Beckley as their Clerk. This was resented not only by himself but the whole party, and they were rendered furious by it. To revenge, Beckley has been writing a pamphlet mentioned in the enclosed advertisement. The ‘authentic papers’ there mentioned are those of which you perfectly know the history [46ten interjects: haha, some secret. So if Sedgewick and King know, Troup knows, Ames knows, G. Morris knows, etc. AH’s affair with Reynolds and the investigation was never a secret with this crowd], formerly in the possession of Messrs. Monroe, Muhlenberg & Venable. The conduct is mean, base and infamous. It may destroy the peace of a respectable family, and so gratify the diabolical malice of a detestable faction, but I trust it cannot produce the intended effect of injuring the cause of government.

So William Jackson is the second for AH, Aaron Burr the second for Monroe, and this Monroe-AH duel possibility stretched into the Winter of 1798 (x, x), having picked up again in December 1797 (Monroe replaces Burr with Dawson). TJ was still writing to Monroe about it in February 1798.

What had Monroe been doing that late summer/fall instead or figuring out how to conduct his affair of honor with AH? After an illness in August, oh, writing his own book (or having TJ ghostwrite it, depending on your views of Monroe’s intelligence) entitled A View of the Conduct of the Executive, in the Foreign Affairs of the United States, Connected with the Mission to the French Republic, During the Years 1794, 5, & 6, criticizing G. Washington and the administration every which way (published in Phila. 21Dec1797). GW, as he liked to do, made responses in the margins of Monroe’s little book; this editorial comment is hilarious: “GW’s remarks on Monroe and his book, taken together, comprise the most extended, unremitting, and pointed use of taunts and jibes, sarcasm, and scathing criticism in all of his writings.” Read that here.

So in the Hamilton mind, not only was Monroe trying to score points against Hamilton (and dragging private family matters into it), but he was criticizing GW too (and thereby AH, since even in retirement he continued to run the GW and Adams administrations, practically)! (”I hate you” point number 5.) In the first half of 1798, Monroe’s work got a lot of attention, earning the ire (and vocal and written condemnations) of Pres. Adams, of Timothy Pickering, and of many other Federalists. Monroe went back to Va. and appeared to lick his wounds and feel sorry for himself, based on his letters to TJ. I think it’s reasonable to speculate that Monroe is the “dirty fellow” alluded to in Angelica S. Church’s June 1798 letter to EH when the latter traveled to Albany - it was most likely seen that Monroe was the cause, or at least could have stopped, all the pain/attention of the public disclosure of the Reynolds affair. I don’t know if AH and Monroe ever really interacted after this. Monroe became Gov of Va, and then replaced Rufus King in 1803 as Minister to G.B.

EH and the Hamilton kids never forgot, see recollection here re. EH. Or watch a dramatization here. That Monroe remained a political rival of the Federalists and AH’s friends/allies also certainly didn’t help (Monroe & Madison and G. Morris continue at each other for many years.) On basic facts, it doesn’t quite make sense to me - I don’t think Monroe was culpable in the sharing of information, and I think he was being as fair-minded as he felt he could be - but there may have been additional encounters/statements/whatevers known to these parties that are now lost to history. There may also be fun details in JCH’s volumes on his father.

(For giggles, see this attached clipping: "the passage [in the Reynolds Pamphlet] in which Hamilton owns and laments his fault is admirably written.”

https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/imgsrv/image?id=uc2.ark:/13960/t90864f94;seq=231;size=125;rotation=0

#Alexander Hamilton #James Monroe #Reynolds Affair #Reynolds Pamphlet #Gouverneur Morris #Icarus letter

10 notes · View notes

theda-rison · 4 years ago

Text

Used-to-be-Thursday-Night-Link-Round-Up - August 21st

I am writing this early so I’ll actually be on time this week, lol.

Ahahahahaha, what a joke. I literally wrote this on Wednesday so I would be early this week and I’m trash who ended up just... mainlining two different, long-ass manga during the week (idk what happened to my time, for real), and now I’m late. XD

Anyway, here it is:

We start with a video by Philosophy Tube, because I adore that man (did I say that once? I feel like I might have… whatever) his penchant for making videos that are thoroughly entertaining at the same time as being massively informative and very funny just appeals to the fact that I grew up on Bill Nye, Beakman’s World, and Horrible Histories and must be debuffed by Comedy in order to remember anything I learn. Such is the life of having brain gremlins that put you to sleep whenever you’re doing something boring (and a great many things are boring when your nervous system runs only on Interest).

youtube

The topic of this video is Anti-Semitism, and is a look at - as one person in the comments pointed out - modern antisemitism(maybe he could do a look at the ancient origins of it at some point, because I know I want to know where it comes from and keep forgetting to look it up), but I think he wanted to look a the question of “Why Jews?” in the modern era because they tend to be the scapegoat for, like, ….everything.

The only downside of the video - for me - is: eight years of French classes had me cringing at his pronunciation. The cringe was evenly distributed throughout the video, for that reason, lol.

Onto the Michael Brooks Show, because I’m slowly going through the backlogs of videos I haven’t watched. This is an interview with Touré Reed about the uncoupling of Race and Class by Liberals in politics.

youtube

This decoupling obviously makes dealing with issues where those two things intersect more difficult to address, because if you only address one and not the other you’re not addressing the whole of the root of the problem. “World War 2 ended the Great Depression, but because it was The New Deal on steroids,” is not something I ever thought of, but now that he’s explained it it makes total fucking sense.

Some internet history for you from Inside a Mind: I had never heard of Fantastic Daily before this, I’m not sure how since I like ARGs and have caught onto a few before they wrapped up and I think they’re fun.

This is interesting because it’s like, “What happens when a bunch of people who aren’t really privy to ARGs and how they work, and who honestly believe that the topic of the ARG exist find out that they’ve been playing a game all along?”

I guess it’s like this: You just lost The Game.

youtube

(I think I just had a flashback to high school because of that. I’m sorry.)

The part I just don’t understand is being an adult human and sending death threats. Like, he fooled you a little bit with some online bullshit, he didn’t kill your dog, you know? I don’t believe in ghosts or “black-eyed kids” (Black-Eyed Peas, maybe) but like, even if I did, my reaction would have been like, “Oh, you got me. Haha. Whelp, you can’t believe everything you read online,” *canned sitcom laughter as the credits roll.* It’s just bizarre to me that people got SO mad. Save the vitriol and the direct action for things that matter, you know? Like dismantling the system.

For our writing related video this week, here’s one I feel like I need most of the time, lol. Tale Foundry with Avoiding Writing Info-Dumps?

youtube

“Hey, isn’t it hard to tell the reader about your world without just telling them about it like a10-year-old who just got a book from the library about horses?” Yes. Yes it is. And also I’m scared. And also, now I want to look up horses.

Scatter your exposition. Share info in context, not as a whole chunk.

Make information implicit, rather than explicit. Help your audience make inferences by showing and not telling.

Or… get rid of it! If it’s not important to the story (it damages the experience without adding anything useful) then just take it out.

Anyway, a three-course-meal of Food For Thought for when I start editing my comic. As I was writing certain parts I was like, “This is horribly done exposition but I don’t remember how to do it better.” And I looked like this as I cried --> T_T

Business Stuff by Daniel Thrasher.

youtube

This guy’s facial expressions make his videos, lol. This isn’t the first one I found, but I ended up watching wayyyy too many of them.

Songs of the Week:

Rage Against the Machine - Bulls on Parade But It's Mambo No. 5 - Lou Bega

https://youtu.be/DflYYP20k-g

One of the weirder mashups, I think? Also, clicking on the first one weeks ago has just forever marred my youtube recommendations. They just keep coming up.

All Star (As An English Madrigal) (SATB Choir) - Arranged by Nathan Howe - Hal Leonard Choral

https://youtu.be/mbDjE_G383k

You know how people say, “The [whatever] I didn’t know I needed!” I’m not even sure if I needed this. But… here it is. I think I like it? It elicits a lot of confusion. I think it’s all the “Hey nonny nonny”s. Then again, maybe it’s that part of my brain keeps thinking it’s going to turn into christmas music. I don’t know.

Interstellar Main Theme, Hans Zimmer - Kalimba cover. - IPIDA SOUND

https://youtu.be/-0cuwM0A6Qg

Way more soothing than the first two songs, lol. Full disclosure: I have never seen Interstellar, and, I’m okay with that.

6 notes · View notes