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zhongliologist · 4 years

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Missing You | Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x gender neutral!reader

Genre: Fluff/ slightly suggestive

Words: 2.5k

A/N: just some brainworms bc the zhongli tag needs more content skskks;; if u liked this, and want the nsfw continuation, pls tell me!!

There was only one time of the year where you could meet him.

When a hundred lanterns glow golden like bright cor lapis before a deep dark sky, when Mt. Tianheng itself tremor and bow to its very bosom as the Guili Plains remember the hundreds of battles which shook its very ground, when the rich harbor city flourishes itself with aromatic dishes and throes of lively visitors from afar only to see one single important event.

There was only one time of the year where you could meet him, and it was only during the Rite of Descension.

"Did you wait for long?"

A familiar voice greeted, warm and deep. The book on your hands now brought down to your lap as soon as you heard it, waiting for your visitor to find you sitting by the windy balcony. It didn't take long though when you heard his heavy footsteps and the rustling of his clothes.

"Zhongli…"

You whispered solemnly to the wind as you took a side glance at him, seeing that he had never changed even for one bit.

He still had those piercing amber eyes that seem to know more than he had dared to show; the same silky dark hair tied neatly in a low ponytail which rivals the softness of pink silkflowers in spring, and a tall handsome gait that purports old wisdom and intelligence to anyone he encounters.

It was really him. Zhongli.

The only man you ever loved.

He took one step closer, caressing your cheeks from behind; his eyes softening for a moment when he felt your hands cover his as you melted under his touch. There was something about you that he couldn't quite describe; a certain quality, like a gentle warmth opening inside his chest which made his rigidity crumble into ruins.

"Your hands are cold," you whispered to the inside of his wrist, giving a small kiss to his skin. Your own hands intertwined with his, gently and slowly touching his fingers as to embed the memory of his touch to your mind, for days when you couldn’t see him.

“And yours are warm,” he remarked, looking down on you with a ghost of a smile as you gazed up into his eyes. “Warmer than anything I’ve ever touched in this world.”

A small rumble of a chuckle escaped from your lips. “You always say the most poetic of things.”

At your comment, he raised one elegant brow. “Do you not like it? I could stop if you wish, my love.”

Nestling into one of his palms, you closed your eyes yet your smile never faltered. “No, please don’t stop. I really like that about you—how you view and describe things with such beautiful words. It makes the world more colorful.”

“Is that so?”

His voice was neutral but you can tell he felt relieved by your response. He may not show much, but to you, he is one incredibly endearing man. The way he would share his love for Liyue’s history and culture to you so enthusiastically; or the way he would be so thoughtful and considerate whenever you felt like the ground would swallow you whole. He has always been your anchor, a rock for you to hold on. Hopefully, he felt the same as well.

“You’ve given my world so much color, you know?” You replied back with a grin, “So much, that you can hardly imagine.”

Bent down to steal one small peck from your lips, Zhongli gave a deep chuckle as he stared into your eyes with his own—which to you looked as if they held the secrets of the universe.

“Ah, would you look at this. You aren’t as bad as a poet either,” he remarked with lilt of a playful tone in his voice. “Perhaps you can sell your own book someday.”

You snorted, grinning. “Are you teasing me now, Zhongli?”

“Surely not. Must be your imagination,” he replied before closing the gap between your lips once again.

This time, you both didn’t let go, just enjoying the feeling of each other’s lips against the other in a slow but sensual kiss. You held on to him tightly as your hands easily finding purchase around his neck, while he kept his hands on your cheeks. Eventually, the both of you pulled away.

In a breathless whisper, you asked. “Is it my imagination or are you much needier this time?”

Zhongli can only look at you with eyes mellow and soft, bearing no words of explanation, but for some reason it was enough for you to realize his answer. You cupped his cheek for a moment and gave him another kiss.

“I missed you, YN.”

Those words held so much weight compared to everything he had said so far. Those words which directly reflected the turbulent feelings in his heart which he could no longer control. All the longing he had to endure when he was away from you, and the thought of you patiently waiting for this exact moment in time was enough for him to pour it all out in those few measly words which most people take for granted.

You understood all of that and smiled sweetly at him. “And I’m right here, right now. Let’s enjoy these next few days where we can be together, alright?”

As his thumb traced circles on your cheeks, the worry in his expression gradually faded away and was replaced by an endearing smile. Yes, there was really something about you that just makes his chest clench so tightly.

“Why don’t we go inside? It feels a bit drafty out here,” he suggested as he straightened up, refusing to let go of your hand even after you had already stood up and started walking inside the room.

“So how was it, your business trip?” You asked, placing the book you were reading before on top of a stout cabinet as Zhongli found himself seated on your bed.

For a moment, he only stared at you with his hand on his chin. “Business trip?”

“Don’t you go on business trips for almost the entire year?” you asked him, wondering why he could forget such an important detail.

“Ah, yes. The business trip…,” he replied, still looking as if he was thinking deeply about it. “It was…splendid.”

“You talk as if you haven’t really been there,” you remarked jadedly, eyes narrowing at him while you untied the heavy braids on your hair.

“Well, my thoughts are always here in Liyue, and my heart, in you.”

“You’ve gotten pretty good at sweet talking, haven’t you?” you asked as you pursed your lips. “Childe has been rubbing off on you.”

To be clearly honest, you always thought Zhongli was a pretty suspicious person. You hardly knew anything about him except for the fact that he works for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and has an abundant knowledge about Liyue and its culture. He never really talks about his family or his childhood. And you were absolutely sure the business trips were phony.

Where does he go for almost a year then? Why is he only available during the Rite of Descension?

Well, those were questions which you didn’t really care for the answer.

“I assure you, my love, that I am only speaking the truth,” he told you indignantly as you got closer to him. “Not a day passes by without me longing for your touch, for the sound of your voice, for your love.”

“I’ve missed you too, Zhongli,” you replied, grinning as you placed your hands on his shoulders. “You and all of you.”

There you were standing before him while he easily placed his arms around your waist, drawing you closer to him as if by instinct. Cupping his cheeks, you could only smile at his flattering words; amused by his strange quips.

“It pains me to know how long you await my arrival every year. How it must have felt lonely to you when I am away, and I am no different. I wish for the day to come where I am allowed to embrace you like this forevermore,” he said as he closed his eyes to feel the gentleness of your fingertips.

“Wasn’t it you who told me time is irrelevant?” you asked, giggling. “A second may pass by forever; and forever may pass by in a second.”

“Yes,” he agreed, nuzzling on your chest as his hands roamed your lower back. “Time neither flows forward nor backward. It skips and jumps and goes by in a blink of an eye. There is no arrow of time. I know that all too well.”

You arched a brow at him. “You do?”

For once, Zhongli smirked as he deftly guided your back to the bed and hovered just above you. “As a matter of fact, you are no stranger to it as well.”

“Me?” you asked in bewilderment, wondering where he was going on with this. “I’m sure time moves normally for me.”

“Ah, was that too cryptic?” he asked when his face was just a few inches away from you. “If words lend no help, then perhaps my actions will make you understand.”

Without waiting for any reply, Zhongli pressed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. Moving sensually yet at the same time as gently as he could, you couldn’t help but give into the kiss; your arms wrapping around his shoulders without second thought.

“Zhongli…mmn…” you whispered as you felt his hands creep underneath your clothes. “What…”

Instead of responding, he only pushed deeper; waiting for a moment to push his tongue pass your lips. You weren’t able to resist him and could only gasp as he intertwined with yours. It left you in a daze as the heat of the moment rushed to your cheeks, making you sweat. You could only cling to him tightly while enjoying a kiss you had waited for almost a year.

Eventually, he pulled away and glanced at you, breathless and eyes blown wide. Then and there you finally understood what he meant by knowing it all too well, when you felt that the kiss was too short, too fast.

“It has dawned on you, hasn’t it, my love?” he asked with a smile, before pressing small kisses to your cheeks, to your forehead; then to your nose and tracing back to your lips. “How time often flies too fast…how time often moves too slowly. It’s as if you have become the master of my time.”

“Funny how you said the exact same thing when we first met,” you replied as you brush his locks away from his face.

“Have I?” he asked with a thoughtful expression. “That is no surprise, however. You made my whole day vanish in a second.”

Without removing your hands from his cheeks, you gently caressed him as you replied. “Did you enjoy my company that much?”

“In fact, I do,” he said as he gazed right into your eyes, as if putting you under his spell. “Not too many have an interest in Liyue’s past traditions in this present day. It was a wonder to have met you that day.”

“Well, it is my job as a scholar to research about these things It’s only natural for me to be interested,” you told him. “It’s amazing how meeting you felt too long ago, and now we’re here.”

To Zhongli, those were days when time seemed to move in a snail’s pace. Days crept and months crawled so slowly as the growing desire to see you only became stronger and more prominent. Whenever he was away from you, he was worried he might not see you again when he returns to Liyue. Year after year, that fear was simply exacerbated by his greed for your love.

“You are my one and only, YN,” he told you as he stole one chaste kiss before nuzzling on your shoulders, and taking in your scent. “I shall do everything in my power in order to be with you. Even if I have to make a deal with the devil. I promise you that.”

You could only sigh at his declaration. There was no way you could possibly convince him out of that thought—it wasn’t obvious, but he can be fairly stubborn. Yet even so, you’ll try.

“Zhongli, you don’t have to do anything. I am content with waiting for you. Even if I feel lonely, even if I we can’t be together like other couples do, I’ll stay with you because you’re the only person I will ever love.”

You continued after a beat as he lifted his head up to gaze into your eyes; his amber orbs glimmering against the reflection of the night.

“If time moves however it wants to, and the concept of the ‘past’ and the ‘future’ no longer matter, then I will only think about the ‘present’,” you replied, your hand brushing his long silky hair, feeling the strands between your fingers. “A present where you and I exist at the same place and at the same time is all that matters now.”

As you said those words, Zhongli caught your hand and began kissing your fingers gently one by one. By now, he might’ve kissed you for a hundredth time already. Maybe at the end of the night, the number will go so far as to a million.

“Very well said, my love,” he remarked with a smile, still not done kissing your palm. “How is it that you know exactly what I feel?”

“I could say the same to you.” You grinned as you held on to his coat, “Now, take these off. We don’t have all night.”

Zhongli raised a brow at you with a rather enigmatic smile as he sat up straight. “As far as I remember, have you not told me that you care not for time?”

You pursed your lips at his subtle teasing. “Do you want me or not?”

Making a low chuckle, Zhongli simply glanced at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. While he may not be the type to flirt as much, he just knows what buttons to push to make you feel like putty in his hands.

“Forgive me, my love.” He crawled back to you, easily unfastening his coat and vest, as it slid on the floor with a loud rustle. “I was unaware of your excitement. Allow me to rectify.”

“You want this as much as I do,” you retorted back as your arms easily wrapped themselves around his broad shoulders. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

Zhongli scoffed and smirked as he threw his tie right on the floor—that looked downright sexy. “There is nothing to correct.”

In a heartbeat, Zhongli once again captured your lips, and it was nothing like before. Passion burning like a wildfire as your lips moved against each other in a frenzy; breaths too heavy as excitement made your heart pound in erratic beats. Every kiss you could’ve shared in a single year poured into one moment, as he pushed deeper into your mouth; as his hands easily found your skin to touch.

“Zhongli…wait!” You muttered breathlessly as he moved to pepper kisses down your jaw and to your neck.

“I have waited long enough, my love,” he replied, his lips now nibbling on your earlobe; his unbuttoned shirt easily revealing his toned chest as he moved closer to you.

“I cannot wait for much longer.”

#genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli fanfiction #zhongli imagines #zhongli scenarios #genshin impact scenarios

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

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Yours (Ezra x Reader) [Smut]

*deep breath* This has been sitting in my Google Docs for a week and I guess I’ll post it even though it’s not good.

Summary: Ezra x Reader have a misunderstanding that leads to a little smut. Warnings: Unprotected sex, light choking, consent negotiation, other stuff I guess? I’m shit at this.

Ezra was someone who was consistently in a good mood, even when he had no reason to be in one. Bad harvest? He still managed to find the positive in it. He was truly a master at plastering on a charming grin and rolling life’s punches. Which made his current mood… alarming, to say the least.

A dark cloud had settled into your shared ship and it’s name was Ezra.

It took two days of him stomping around, avoiding you, and sleeping in his own bunk before you managed the courage to ask him what the hell his problem was.

“I don’t have a problem, little bird.” He answered breezily, keeping his gaze averted as he focused on inventorying the medical supplies on the ship. An entirely unnecessary task, but one he’d made into his life’s mission in an effort to avoid you.

“Really?” You questioned, arms folded across your chest. “This isn’t a problem?” You gestured between the two of you.

Ezra sniffed and fixed you with a rather disdainful look that made something in your heart physically ache. “It would seem that this is a problem for one of us,” He started, his words dripping with thinly veiled venom. “But that problem is nihil ad rem.”

“Ezra,” You started, trying to keep your voice level as you crouched down beside him. “Will you please just tell me what’s wrong?”

He sighed dramatically, setting aside the rolls of gauze he had been focused on counting. “I’ll return to this task at a later date. Pardon the discombobulation.” Without further comment he rose to his feet and started to leave the hull.

“Ezra!” You snapped, following after him. “Clearly I’ve pissed you off.”

He came to an abrupt halt, which caused you to slam into his back. Ezra turned to face you, his jaw clenched tightly as he glared down at you. You had never seen him look at you like that before and it made you take a small step backwards in response.

Ezra dragged his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands as they slid through his fingers. He seemed to be trying to tamp down his anger, his chest rising and falling slowly as he steadied his breathing. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

You inhaled sharply.

Three days ago the pair of you had encountered a group of harvesters on the transport station, while you were waiting for clearance to set off on another venture. One of the harvesters had been an old acquaintance of yours — and unfortunately someone who you had been intimately involved with. While you hadn’t blatantly confessed as much, the man’s comments about you had been enough for Ezra to piece together the history that you shared with him.

You hadn’t even thought anything of it. Both of you had histories, parts of your past that neither of you discussed. But that clearly wasn’t the real issue. The real issue laid with how you had introduced Ezra to the other harvester.

“This is my friend, Ezra.”

“That’s not what I meant!” You assured him, reaching out to brush your fingers against his cheek.

He pulled away from your touch and you let your arm drop back to your side defeatedly. “What did you mean then, little bird?” He questioned, his dark eyes locked on your face.

“What was I supposed to say, Ezra?” You gritted out, your own anger burning hot now. “You are my friend. But we haven’t exactly put a label on this.” You waved a hand between you. “Here’s Ezra — he’s my friend, harvesting partner, gives me the best fucking orgasms of my life, and we share a bed most nights. Unless he’s being a raging dick because I dared to call him my friend.”

Something snapped in Ezra, you saw it in his eyes first, mere seconds before he had you pinned against the bulkhead. You wanted to shove him away, to hurt him the way he’d hurt you by ignoring you for the past two days, but you couldn’t deny the way your own anger had sparked a deep seated need within you. One that only he could satisfy.

He kissed you with a bruising force. The past two days of frustration were being translated into the desperate way that he kissed you. You curled your fingers around the back of his neck, holding him there as your other hand wandered down to the fastenings of his trousers. You could feel him, already stiff beneath your touch.

“Gonna remind you,” He mumbled against your lips. ”Little bird.” Ezra dragged his teeth over your bottom lip with just enough pressure to make you inhale sharply. “Who I am.”

There was nothing gentle about the way Ezra manhandled you. Even with one hand, he knew how to do damage. He nearly tore the button of your cargo pants as he jerked them open and roughly shoved them down your hips along with your panties.

He gripped tightly at your hip, prompting you to turn around for him. It was a familiar gesture, one you knew intimately.

“Ez—” You started, but his name died on your lips as his hand found its way from your hip to the juncture of your thighs.

“You are positively dripping.” He drawled out, his tongue gliding over each word with a heat that made your blood practically sing for him. You should’ve been ashamed with just how slick you were. You were pissed at him, but your cunt was desperate for him.

You planted your palms on the cool metal of the bulkhead, keeping yourself balanced as his hand nudged your stance apart wider. His fingers dragged between your folds and you let yourself get lost in the sensation. You leaned forward, resting your forehead against the wall surrendering to him.

Ezra hesitated as you relaxed, his hand abandoning his efforts between your thighs. Gently he stroked your jaw, urging you to turn to look at him. “Is this alright, little bird? I wither at the thought of doing something you’d prefer that I didn’t.”

You shook your head quickly. “Don’t stop.”

He leaned in to catch your lips, kissing you with a tenderness that stood in stark contrast with how harshly he’d already manhandled you. “I don’t want to be at odds with you.” He whispered, stroking your cheek. “These past two days… Each passing hour drove the blade between my ribs in deeper.”

You reached behind you to drag your fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to fight with you either.” You assured him, tilting your head so you could kiss him again. “But right now, I really really want you to fuck me.” You sucked lightly at his bottom lip. “Use me, Ezra.”

“Whatever you want, baby.” He whispered, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, his arm curling around your waist as he lingered there. It felt right to feel the weight of him pressed against you, his breath dancing over your skin. He felt like home.

You loved him. Of course he was more than just your friend.

But those thoughts were pushed from your mind as you felt his arm slip from around you, his hand moving between the two of you as he shoved his trousers down his hips. “You ready, little bird?” He questioned as he nudged your thighs apart.

“Yes.” You breathed out as you felt the brush of his cock against your sensitive flesh. No sooner than the words had escaped your lips, Ezra gripped your hip tightly and thrust forward — filling you in one swift movement.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, fingers trying to gain purchase against the smooth metal of the bulkhead in front of you. It had only been two days since you’d last had him — but it felt like longer. You’d mourned the loss of this, the intimacy, the completeness that came from his embrace.

“Ezra.” You moaned out wantonly as he started to move within you. Your breath hitched as his fingers curled around your throat loosely, keeping you pressed back against his chest as he fucked into you.

“Who do you belong to, little bird?” He questioned lowly, dragging an open-mouthed kiss along your cheek. His mustache and the scruff around his mouth scratched against your soft skin. “Tell me, baby. Who do you belong to?”

“You!” You gasped out.

“That’s right.” He drawled out, tightening the grasp he had on your throat as he started to thrust into you with more force. It was driving you mad, just how well he knew your body. “You’re mine, little bird.” Ezra reminded you, his voice rough with his desire for you.

You nodded your head as best you could and promised him, “All yours.”

He knew how much you loved it when he wrapped his hand around your throat, how the slightest bit of pressure would make you clench around his cock. You reached behind your head, raking your fingers through his hair. “Ezra.”

“Shhh.” He cooed, stroking his fingers down the column of your throat. “Let go for me, little bird.”

“So close.”

Ezra tightened his hold on your throat once more, his lips brushing against your. “Touch yourself. Can you do that for me?”

You let your hand drop away from the wall where you had been supporting yourself, relying on Ezra to keep you upright, reaching down to tease at your clit. His pace faltered momentarily and you knew he was close to his own release.

Reluctantly Ezra released your throat, curling his arm around your waist to support you better as he started to drive into you again and again. The angle, in tandem with the touch of your fingers, was enough to push you over the edge. Your inner walls fluttered around him, pleasure pulsing through your veins as your orgasm peaked.

Your name was on his lips as he gripped at your hip, holding you flush to him as he shattered within you. You couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you as he felt him buried deep within you. You had missed it. You had missed him and you knew you didn’t want to ever be without him.

“Perfect.” Ezra whispered, stroking his hand down your spine as he slipped out of you.

Once you regained your balance, you turned around to face him with a sheepish grin. You reached out and cupped his cheek, brushing your thumb over the scar there. “I love you.” The words slipped past your lips with such ease, despite the knot of anxiety in your gut. And it was worth it — so worth it. Ezra flashed an adoring smile at you as a tear slipped down his cheek.

“I love you too, little bird.” He whispered, turning his head to kiss your palm. “I apologize for being so uncompanionable these past few days.” He mumbled against your skin.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” You said as you brushed your thumb over his bottom lip.

Ezra shook his head, “It’s no fault of your own. I’ve been remiss in making my feelings known. You see,” He started, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I find that I simply want to be yours.”

You laughed, a smile spreading across your lips. “You are.” You promised him, draping your arms over his shoulders. “And I’m yours.”

#ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #pedro pascal x reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #pedro pascal smut #le sigh

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aaronmaurer · 4 years

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TV I Liked in 2020

Every year I reflect on the pop culture I enjoyed and put it in some sort of order.

Was there ever a year more unpredictably tailor-made for peak TV than 2020? Lockdowns/quarantines/stay-at-home orders meant a lot more time at home and the occasion to check out new and old favorites. (I recognize that if you’re lucky enough to have kids or roommates or a S.O., your amount of actual downtime may have been wildly different). While the pandemic resulted in production delays and truncated seasons for many shows, the continued streaming-era trends of limited series and 8-13 episode seasons mean that a lot of great and satisfying storytelling still made its way to the screen. As always, I in no way lay any claims to “best-ness” or completeness – this is just a list of the shows that brought me the most joy and escapism in a tough year and therefore might be worth putting on your radar.

10 Favorites

10. The Right Stuff: Season 1 (Disney+)

As a space program enthusiast, even I had to wonder, does the world really need another retelling of NASA’s early days? Especially since Tom Wolfe’s book has already been adapted as the riveting and iconoclastic Philip Kaufman film of the same name? While some may disagree, I find that this Disney+ series does justify its existence by focusing more on the relationships of the astronauts and their personal lives than the technical science (which may be partially attributable to budget limitations?). The series is kind of like Mad Men but with NASA instead of advertising (and real people, of course), so if that sounds intriguing, I encourage you to give it a whirl.

9. Fargo: Season 4 (FX)

As a big fan of Noah Hawley’s Coen Brothers pastiche/crime anthology series, I was somewhat let down by this latest season. Drawing its influence primarily from the likes of gangster drama Miller’s Crossing – one of the Coens’ least comedic/idiosyncratic efforts – this season is more straightforward than its predecessors and includes a lot of characters and plot-threads that never quite cohere. That said, it is still amongst the year’s most ambitious television with another stacked cast, and the (more-or-less) standalone episode “East/West” is enough to make the season worthwhile.

8. The Last Dance (ESPN)

Ostensibly a 10-episode documentary about the 1990s Chicago Bulls’ sixth and final NBA Championship run, The Last Dance actually broadens that scope to survey the entire history of Michael Jordan and coach Phil Jackson’s careers with the team. Cleverly structured with twin narratives that chart that final season as well as an earlier timeframe, each episode also shifts the spotlight to a different person, which provides focus and variety throughout the series. And frankly, it’s also just an incredible ride to relive the Jordan era and bask in his immeasurable talent and charisma – while also getting a snapshot of his outsized ego and vices (though he had sign-off on everything, so it’s not exactly a warts-and-all telling).

7. The Queen’s Gambit (Netflix)

This miniseries adaptation of the Walter Tevis coming-of-age novel about a chess prodigy and her various addictions is compulsively watchable and avoids the bloat of many other streaming series (both in running time and number of episodes). The 1960s production design is stunning and the performances, including Anya Taylor-Joy in the lead role, are convincing and compelling.

6. The Great: Season 1 (hulu)

Much like his screenplay for The Favourite, Tony McNamara’s series about Catherine the Great rewrites history with a thoroughly modern and irreverent sensibility (see also: Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette). Elle Fanning brings a winning charm and strength to the title role and Nicholas Hoult is riotously entertaining as her absurdly clueless and ribald husband, Emperor Peter III. Its 10-episodes occasionally tilt into repetitiveness, but when the ride is this fun, why complain? Huzzah!

5. Dispatches From Elsewhere (AMC)

A limited (but possibly anthology-to-be?) series from creator/writer/director/actor Jason Segal, Dispatches From Elsewhere is a beautiful and creative affirmation of life and celebration of humanity. The first 9 episodes form a fulfilling and complete arc, while the tenth branches into fourth wall-breaking meta territory, which may be a bridge too far for some (but is certainly ambitious if nothing else). Either way, it’s a movingly realized portrait of honesty, vulnerability and empathy, and I highly recommend visiting whenever it inevitably makes its way to Netflix, or elsewhere…

4. What We Do in the Shadows: Season 2 (FX)

The second season of WWDITS is more self-assured and expansive than the first, extending a premise I loved from its antecedent film – but was skeptical could be sustained – to new and reinvigorated (after)life. Each episode packs plenty of laughs, but for my money, there is no better encapsulation of the series’ potential and Matt Berry’s comic genius than “On The Run,” which guest-stars Mark Hamill and features Laszlo’s alter ego Jackie Daytona, regular human bartender.

3. Ted Lasso: Season 1 (AppleTV+)

Much more than your average fish-out-of-water comedy, Jason Sudeikis’ Ted Lasso is a brilliant tribute to humaneness, decency, emotional intelligence and good coaching – not just on the field. The fact that its backdrop is English Premier League Soccer is just gravy (even if that’s not necessarily represented 100% proficiently). A true surprise and gem of the year.

2. Mrs. America (hulu)

This FX miniseries explores the women’s liberation movement and fight for the Equal Rights Amendment in the 1970s and its opposition by conservative women including Phyllis Schlafly. One of the most ingenious aspects of the series is centering each episode on a different character, which rotates the point of view and helps things from getting same-y. With a slate of directors including Ryan Bowden and Anna Fleck (Half-Nelson, Sugar, Captain Marvel) and an A-List cast including Cate Blanchett, Rose Byrne, Uzo Aduba, Sarah Paulson, Margo Martindale, Tracey Ulman and Elizabeth Banks, its quality is right up there with anything on the big screen. And its message remains (sadly) relevant as ever in our current era.

1. The Good Place: Season 4 (NBC)

It was tempting to omit The Good Place this year or shunt it to a side category since only the final 4 episodes aired in 2020, but that would have been disingenuous. This show is one of my all-time favorites and it ended perfectly. The series finale is a representative mix of absurdist humor and tear-jerking emotion, built on themes of morality, self-improvement, community and humanity. (And this last run of eps also includes a pretty fantastic Timothy Olyphant/Justified quasi-crossover.) Now that the entire series is available to stream on Netflix (or purchase in a nice Blu-ray set), it’s a perfect time to revisit the Good Place, or check it out for the first time if you’ve never had the pleasure.

5 of the Best Things I Caught Up With

Anne With An E (Netflix/CBC)

Another example of classic literature I had no prior knowledge of (see also Little Women and Emma), this Netflix/CBC adaptation of Anne of Green Gables was strongly recommended by several friends so I finally gave it a shot. While this is apparently slightly more grown-up than the source material, it’s not overly grimdark or self-serious but rather humane and heartfelt, expanding the story’s scope to include Black and First Nations peoples in early 1800s Canada, among other identities and themes. It has sadly been canceled, but the three seasons that exist are heart-warming and life-affirming storytelling. Fingers crossed that someday we’ll be gifted with a follow-up movie or two to tie up some of the dangling threads.

Better Call Saul (AMC)

I liked Breaking Bad, but I didn’t have much interest in an extended “Breaking Bad Universe,” as much as I appreciate star Bob Odenkirk’s multitalents. Multiple recommendations and lockdown finally provided me the opportunity to catch up on this prequel series and I’m glad I did. Just as expertly plotted and acted as its predecessor, the series follows Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman on his own journey to disrepute but really makes it hard not to root for his redemption (even as you know that’s not where this story ends).

Joe Pera Talks With You (Adult Swim)

It’s hard to really describe the deadpan and oddly soothing humor of comedian Joe Pera whose persona, in the series at least, combines something like the earnestness of Mr. Rogers with the calm enthusiasm of Bob Ross. Sharing his knowledge on the likes of how to get the best bite out of your breakfast combo, growing a bean arch and this amazing song “Baba O’Reilly” by the Who – have you heard it?!? – Pera provides arch comfort that remains solidly on the side of sincerity. The surprise special he released during lockdown, “Relaxing Old Footage with Joe Pera,” was a true gift in the middle of a strange and isolated year.

The Mandalorian (Disney+)

One of the few recent Star Wars properties that lives up to its potential, the adventures of Mando and Grogu is a real thrill-ride of a series with outstanding production values (you definitely want to check out the behind-the-scenes documentary series if you haven’t). I personally prefer the first season, appreciating its Western-influenced vibes and somewhat-more-siloed story. The back half of the second season veers a little too much into fan service and video game-y plotting IMHO but still has several excellent episodes on offer, especially the Timothy Olyphant-infused energy of premiere “The Marshall” and stunning cinematography of “The Jedi.” And, you know, Grogu.

The Tick (Amazon Prime)

I’ve been a fan of the Tick since the character’s Fox cartoon and indie comic book days and also loved the short-lived Patrick Warburton series from 2001. I was skeptical about this Amazon Prime reboot, especially upon seeing the pilot episode’s off-putting costumes. Finally gaining access to Prime this year, I decided to catch up and it gets quite good!, especially in Season 2. First, the costumes are upgraded; second, Peter Serafinowicz’s initially shaky characterization improves; and third, it begins to come into its own identity. The only real issue is yet another premature cancellation for the property, meaning Season 2’s tease of interdimensional alien Thrakkorzog will never be fulfilled. 😢

Bonus! 5 More Honorable Mentions:

City So Real (National Geographic)

The Good Lord Bird (Showtime)

How To with John Wilson: Season 1 (HBO)

Kidding: Season 2 (Showtime)

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt: Kimmy Vs The Reverend (Netflix)

#tv #television

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tanadrin · 4 years

Text

The first part of our voyage west was to be by sea. The greater part of Altuum lies between the Windlands and Nebressa, and where the long arc of the former meets the continent, the high mountains and deep God-Forests of Dap Ngara and Dap Mbeki form a barrier that is all but impassable, except to the people of those countries, or those on whom they bestow certain favors. It is said the greatest of the God-Trees are as high as mountains, and beneath their boughs are spaces that are vast and dark, and filled with strange creatures unknown to the world at large. Otherwise, many would no doubt choose the overland route, for the route by sea is filled with danger. In the autumn, typhoons arise in the southeastern part of the sea, and rise north toward the equator; year-round there is the risk of pirates. And, of course, in the deeper parts of the ocean, sailors say there are terrible monsters that dwell under the waves and devour ships from time to time; and this is why most vessels prefer to go along the coast. But I do not consider such tales entirely reliable.

When the Sea Kuthra came to the Windlands, they founded many towns along the coast. The greatest of these, which became the entrepot for the middle part of the peninsula, was the port of Kaklune. We tarried there for four months until we found a ship traveling to Presh, whose captain seemed capable, and whose pilot knew the route well. Have you heard the tales of Ctarra, the hero of the Gelar Isles? They say there are a thousand tales of him, though I never heard above two dozen. I believe few of them, but if you had told me that the crew of this ship had once sailed under that mighty mariner, I might have believed you. They knew their craft well, and their ship, though weathered, was in fine condition.

We hoped at first for an uneventful journey. For two weeks we sailed northward along the coast, stopping briefly at Yamakul and Harone, where the crew unloaded timber from the south, and took on cloth and dyes to carry westward. The captain explained to me that the wood was good only to fill the hold for a short distance, and would be of no special value in Nebressa, where better timber is had from the Oethar hills anyway. But the cloth of the northern Windlands is of good quality, and could be traded for supplies anywhere between Harone and Presh; and sold for a handsome profit in Velannu or Nebressa. The ship seemed lighter and swifter after that (though perhaps that was simply my imagination), and the weather was fair when we departed Harone.

We went around the outer isles of the Ngaran Bay, and so caught no glimpse, even from a distance, of the God-Trees; I was certainly saddened by this. After that, we were beyond the Windlands for good. The country between the Windlands and southeastern Oethiam has little in it. To the north, on the great Conn plain, there are large towns, but the lack of good harbors on the coast and a history of vicious warfare, the captain told me, means that there are few places worth a stop, at least for the sake of commerce. For the next few weeks, she said, we should expect only to go ashore to take on water or to collect provisions. Was this not the land of the Tiger-People, in the tales of Ctarra? I asked; and the captain laughed. Yes, she said; once it was, perhaps, but they are long gone.

Alas, one danger that has not changed since those days is the risk of pirates. Our ship was fast, her crew experienced, and none of them shrank from danger; but the ruin of that region, owing to the wickedness of its princes, had made many of the people desperate, and we were but a few days past Tibray Head when we spotted pale sails behind us. At this sight, the captain fell silent and seemed to be deep in thought, but the pilot told us there was little to fear: that the pirates often watched ships from a distance, but rarely attacked unless they had very great numbers, or thought their target unusually ill-prepared. For two days, I glanced occasionally aft, and did my best to share the pilot's nonchalance. On the third, midmorning, we spotted sails ahead of us, as well, and more joined our companions to the rear. Now the pilot himself fell silent, and the crew began to work swiftly, steering us out toward the open sea where there would be more room to maneuver. There was little talk among them, and that made me really afraid.

I will pass briefly over the next part of the tale, because you know the outcome. Despite the crew's efforts, it was clear after a few hours we would soon be overtaken. The captain took us back toward the coast, hoping to lose our pursuers among the islands there; but this plan failed. The pirates grappled the ship, and there was a terrible battle. A good part of the crew was killed, and the ship was badly damaged by cannon-shot. I was wounded, but only lightly. But the pirates suffered enough that they decided in the end our cargo was not worth the price they would pay, and withdrew. In the aftermath the captain put us to work at once clearing the bodies; we needed to find safe harbor, if we could, before they returned.

That was my first experience of real violence, and though it was not my last, it remains in some ways the worst. These were not soldiers; they were but sailors, united under a common bond of friendship and many trials weathered together, and the pain of the wounds on the bodies of those who survived was not half the pain of the grief they endured at the loss of their friends.

By a stroke of great fortune, there was a small town just up the coast, nestled in a narrow inlet. The captain went ashore, and after some quick negotiations with the headman of the town, we were assured of safety so long as we remained. A small gift of cloth, spices, and southern metalwork expanded the hospitality of the inhabitants considerably. They offered aid in repairing the ship, and gave over an empty house for our use.

But our misfortunes only increased from there. In the morning, we woke to find the captain feverish and disoriented; a local fever, perhaps inflamed by grief. It was only after several days that she began to recover slowly, but by this point it was apparent that it could be many weeks before the ship was ready to sail again, and even then it would have to return to the Windlands first, to hire the additional crew necessary to make the trip to Presh. In this time, my sister and I had been in close consultation with the town's leaders, who were of the opinion that for the time being the overland route, which would at least take us as far as one of the small ports on the inland sea, was safer by far. A new king of the Conn had driven the bandits on the roads away, so while the number of pirates was greater than ever, and the season of typhoons was not far off, we could be reasonably assured of our safety, especially if we traveled in a caravan. Some of the townsfolk were going north to market soon; from there, no doubt, we should find a larger group headed west, for the people of the eastern plane often made the trip in late summer.

So we went north. It was five days' travel to the market-town--whose name, alas, I could never pronounce--and nine more days of waiting there. An ill-tempered merchant took us on reluctantly, because, he said, the gods would be sour with him if he let two such utter fools as us come to harm on the road. But he made us purchase some of his horses, and I do not think the price was very good.

And so in this way, after another three weeks of travel, we came to the country called Vadue. Now, the small states and the free cities of this region had for the most part been unremarkable to us. Despite the tales of the Windlands, none of the people here dressed in tiger-skins, or had four eyes, or had their feet on backwards; they were for the most part ordinary folk such as might have been found in the lowlands of our own country, though they ate more root vegetables, and grew more grain. But the people of Vadue are very different from all the people around them.

Vadue is located on a small plateau that rises from the surrounding lowland quite steeply on three sides; the steepest is the eastern side, which was, alas, the road we had to take. It is ringed with high, wooded hills, and the interior is a little lower; and there a swift river rises, flowing westward through a narrow gorge. Once, it must have been a very populous country. There are great ruins of stone to be found nearly on every hilltop and in every valley, but now it is much reduced. Its people live in only a handful of small cities, surrounded by terraced farms that stretch down the slopes of the hills. They shun the large inner valley, for reasons they refuse to discuss with outsiders. And in Vadue, children are kings.

So the saying goes. I did not appreciate its meaning, and thought it perhaps metaphorical, or a legend like that of the four-eyed northmen, when I first heard it. The Vadueans have a reputation for honorable hospitality, so when we came into that country we immediately sought out a village to rest in for the evening. The first one we came to was a small collection of houses, built in the middle of a larger ruin of stone, with many of the materials obviously taken from the surrounding pile. The village square appeared to be the former hall of some great palace, which was now open to the sky. We were met there by three village elders, who form the customary greeting party for travelers, and taken to a place of rest. I looked around us as we walked through the village, and noted nothing unusual about the families therein. Except the ruins, nothing worth remarking upon presented itself to me.

We ate the evening meal with our hosts about half an hour before sunset. As I spoke nothing of the language, I relied on those of the party who could interpret for us to ask questions about the country and its history. Vadue was old, they said; the ruins in which they built their houses had been built by the Vadueans themselves, long ago. In those days, they were a more numerous and wealthier people; and though their number and their fortune had declined since then, their written history was continuous since that time, and the rites of their ancestors preserved. I thought that this was a remarkable claim, as it was difficult to see how such an ingenous people as the ruin-builders could give way to such unremarkable descendants. But our translators were tired from the day's journey, so I enquired no further.

It took us two more days to reach the largest town in eastern Vadue, which is Oqelans. If the account of Vaduean history was accurate, Oquelans must have once been a very great city indeed. Overgrown streets stretched high up into the hills around it, and the broken ruins of towers crowned some of the hilltops. Now the town was confined to a valley between two hills, that at the bottom dropped into a deep ravine, through which a swift, narrow river raced. The town was at the top of the ravine, on either side; narrow stone bridges, as old as the ruins but in better condition, criss-crossed it in many places. Oqelans was accustomed to a greater number of travelers, and so their greeting-party was institutional: three delegates stand in the square, and greet travelers both in the tongue of Vadue and the tongues of the nearby lowlands.

Now, the caravan was to stay in Oqelans longer, and I was footsore and extremely glad of the opportunity for a few days' rest. My curiosity about the country had also been piqued, so instead of staying in the merchant-house, we took lodgings in a smaller guesthouse which overlooked the ravine, and which was on the main street of a quieter neighborhood. The proprietor of the guesthouse and her husband spoke the lowland tongues passingly well, and I had picked up a little of them since joining the caraven; and together with some other linguistic odds and ends we managed to converse. Yes, the husband said, it was true that the present-day Vadueans were the sons and daughters of the ancient ruin-builders. Astonish you, it may, he said; but the techniques of our ancestors are not entirely unknown to us. We could perhaps rebuild the ruins, if we wished.

I asked why they did not. Why should we? said the proprietor. We have no need of enormous cities; we are not so numerous as we once were. But they were grand in their day, I said. Yes, they were, the proprietor agreed; but cloth needs weaving and fields need sowing. This is a Vaduean expression, for the ordinary work of life which must be done by all. We spoke also of religion; the Vadueans' beliefs are not very systematic, though they are not especially superstitious. Most of their rites are concerned with paying respect to their ancestors, and honoring their dead heroes. And what, I said eventually, of your governors? Have you kings or princes here in Vadue? No, they said; there are the local assemblies, and the town elders, and the magistrates before which criminals, oathbreakers, and faithless merchants are sometimes brought. But we have no kings, and no hereditary princes. I have heard in Vadue that children are kings, I said. They laughed at this. They called over their son, a boy of about seven or eight, and asked him if he was a king. No, he replied; today I am a bear. And he went off growling in what was indeed a rather bearlike fashion.

It is not unusual when collecting stories of other lands to find that they disagree with one another, or with the world. Unless the collector is very well-traveled indeed, and can verify by personal experience each account they hear from another land, even the most careful one will occasionally find sour lies in the basket of sweet truths. Some lies are so improbably we can discard them at once, like fruit rotted all the way through, while some appear true but are false; the rot is hidden, so to speak. And the careful historian will note that there are occasionally stories which are on their face preposterous, but which turn out to be entirely accurate: a bruised skin, hiding good flesh within. And there are many such truths, for the world is wide and inevitably full of stranger things than even the wisest can imagine.

I took a walk in the city the next day; and I returned to the guesthouse before noon, and sat on the steps watching the people pass to and fro down the street. I would like to say I was an assiduous chronicler, observing the subjects of his chronicle carefully. In fact, I was merely tired, and impatient for lunch. But I noticed a curious thing, as I sat. There were not many children in Vadue. In the lowlands, I had heard an expression: the one poor in wealth may be rich in sons and daughters. At home, in the Windlands, we had a similar saying: count not the prince fortunate, nor the rich man happy, unless he have many sons. Why was Vadue, not poor in any other measure, poor in this one?

After we had eaten lunch, I asked the proprietor about this. She did not understand the question at first. I used the wrong word, and took me to be asking why few families had children. But she knew many families, they said; all had at least child. I searched for different words; why, I asked, was the quantity of children I saw in the street so low? Is it? she replied. It is, I said. The farmers just to the east have five or more children as a rule. She frowned; were they so cursed, that their children died so young? No, I said; I do not know how many of their children die. I mean, the number who live. At this, she seemed disbelieving.

The confusion between us was not slight, but after much back and forth, I gathered this: that the people of Vadue generally have between one and three children. Two is most common. Four is uncommon. Five or more is exceedingly rare. Children die more rarely in infancy, and the Vadueans attribute this to the religious rites they have around the collection of water and the quality of their medicines, of which I cannot speak directly because I had no occasion to observe them. And the Vadueans do not refrain from having more children because children are hated; they are loved no less in Vadue than elsewhere. But by special preparations, and avoiding the inseminating act when lying together, most husbands and wives prefer to limit the number of offspring. And this, I thought, perhaps explained the mystery of the great ruins. The Vadueans, I concluded, had impoverished themselves: for if they had on average only two children, or a little more, only a small amount of accident or disease, or simply failure to have children of their own, would mean that the size of each generation was a little less than the size of the former. And very gradually--perhaps so gradually they did not notice--the population of the country must have declined, until it inhabited great cities it could no longer afford to maintain. Woe to the people of Vadue! I said to myself. A sorry tale, although one with blessedly little bloodshed.

The night before we were to depart, the proprietor's grown son and daughter came to visit their parents. As was the custom, every two weeks they dined with them; and they brought their children with them. So I had occasion to observe three generations together, and what I saw caused me to question the tale as I had understood it earlier.

The grandchildren were doted upon by all, even their parents. And like many families, they told me, they lived together in a common house with other parents of young children; together they shared the labor of raising them. And that labor was considerable indeed. For though they were only of modest means, these children were educated in letters and sums, and apparently also in the history and poetry of the country; and in song and had even scraps of astronomy and knew a few words of foreign tongues, though they had never left Oqelans. And this was not considered an unusual thing. So I enquired further after the practices of childrearing in Vadue; and they said that every child, even those of the meanest peasant, was afforded some kind of education. And they explained the methods of education in that country, which were gentle and patient; and when I asked how children were punished when they disobeyed, I was astonished to find they were never punished at all.

I asked again, with different words, thinking I had misunderstood; but my interlocutors were stern and clear. No child in Vadue was ever hit or whipped. Even the stupidest, meanest, most recalcitrant child could expect to be met with patience in tutors, parents, and strangers alike. Even to raise one's voice to a child was considered a failure, worthy of a small amount of disapproval from one's neighbors. Disobedient children were simply re-instructed in the behavior they ought to show. And if a child did poorly at their lessons, it was the tutor that was considered to have erred!

I was so surprised at this, that I was asked about my own childhood, and I found myself reflecting on things I had not concerned myself with for many years. I thought on how my parents, whom I loved, and even now consider kind and wise, had beaten us when we misbehaved. I thought on learning my letters in the rectory school, and the blows of the switch on the wrists or ankles intended to sharpen my attention when I made a mistake. I thought of the children in the village I saw, who worked alongside their parents, whose labors were as great, given their capacities, as those of the grown men and women around them. My hosts were greatly saddened by these accounts, though I consider my childhood and that of my friends to have been happy. And then I understood what it was meant, when travelers said of Vadue, that in that place children are kings. If you are accustomed to raising children with the stick as well as with love, this seems like a land where parents cringe and simper before their children, where the righteous order is inverted.

For you see, Vadue is a land I believe to be unusually peaceful. Its mountainous character shields it from invasion; and it has little in the way of wealth that cannot be got more easily from surrounding countries. For all that, it is relatively prosperous: after all, it need produce little, to feed a population that does not grow. And because of their peace, and because of their prosperity, the Vadueans have little need for, and a great loathing of, violence and killing. They whip no slanderers, and brand no thieves, just as they slap no children, nor condemn even the most unrepentant murderer to die. And because of the care and labor undertaken on their behalf, and the sanctity of their person, travelers who have seen only this most obvious feature of their country--the few children, who run free, and have an education that would befit a noble in any other land--the only state which most visitors can name, which approaches that of a Vaduean child, is the state of royalty. And this I at last understand is what the sages mean when they say we shall all be kings in Paradise: not that we shall command and have license to be capricious, but that we shall be free from the caprice and cruelty of others.

I believe that once, Vadue was not like this. That long ago, the people that lived in that country were like their neighbors. By some stroke of fortune, their civilization rose to a very great height, and they were prosperous for a long time; and for love of their children, as all parents have, they doted on them more and more; and consequently, they had fewer, so they could give more to the children that they did have. The offices of state withered away, and they abolished them. That which they prized changed. They prized the family more, and the day-to-day life more; and they spent less time consumed in the fear of vengeful gods, or with carrying out the policies of the tyrants they no longer had. And without need of an ever-growing population to sustain, and without fear of an invasion that might destroy their customs and habits, they permitted the monuments and towers of their ancestors to gently decay. For these were ultimately in the service of vanity: vain princes and vain legacies, vain glories that flattered the nation, but fed not a single starving soul, nor sheltered a single head from the rain.

So they no longer build great monuments. They have their arts and their sciences, but these are pursued either for the joy in themselves, or for the joy they bring one another, rather than to serve as instruments of greater powers. When they have surpluses, some of it is stored, and some distributed according to need, and some sold; and the exact manner of division and distribution differs from town to town, depending on custom and circumstance. So though they have their poor citizens (and their rich), they have no beggars, and no one ever starves. And though they inflict no punishments on the bodies of their criminals (and they assured me that they have criminals, and laws, and courts, like any other country), you may still travel the length and breadth of the land without a bandit slitting your throat for the clothes on your back. For, they believe, it is only when you treat a man as a beast that he becomes one. That bloodshed cannot answer bloodshed, if it is one's aim to forestall it further. They raise their children in the manner that they do, for their most ancient priests long ago said that authority cannot teach alone, and pain is the least useful lesson of all, but patience is the road to wisdom, and love its crown. Despite their laxness, their country is peaceful and their children well-behaved. I cannot say how all these marvels are accomplished, for we did not remain in Vadue long, but nothing I saw in my time there gives me any reason to doubt them.

From beyond its borders, Vadue looks like a poor nation dwelling in its own corpse. But this is perhaps true only if you think that a nation is it princes, that its greatness and its wealth is measured only by the greatness and the wealth of its mightiest inhabitants, rather than its lowliest. If you are of the opposite opinion, Vadue is something of a rarity in this world: a truly happy place.

But of all my tales, I have found, this is the one most widely disbelieved. Yet I have seen it; though I would perhaps doubt it otherwise. In Vadue, children--and men, and women, the lowliest and the highest alike--are kings.

–Tâw Ras, yab Arah; Journals of the Long Pilgrimage, 2663 oE.

#final e's are always pronounced in my conlangs #'harone' and 'vadue' would both be spelled the same in IPA #in case you were wondering #too lazy to search and replace an acute e atm #tanadrin's fiction

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queen-scribbles · 5 years

Text

Blowing Smoke

for @pillarspromptsweekly fill 106: Awakened Anonymous

---

Of all her duties as Lady of Caed Nua, Tavi’s least favorite, by far, was the petitioners. She liked helping people, sure, but listening to a multitude of them drone on about shit their own mayors should be handling was not helping. It was sitting in an uncomfortable chair for hours on end and trying not to let her mind wander. At least the flow was occasionally broken by someone coming with thanks--or a genuine problem that required her attention. And she had Aloth to elbow her when she failed at not letting her mind wander.

Today though.... today had been an unbroken line of petty grievances and finger-pointing. Tavi was on the verge of tearing her hair out, flinging some choice expletives at the postenagos, and walking out when it finally, finally ended.

“I have never been so glad to see a kith’s fuckin’ back in my life,” she muttered to Aloth as the last one moseyed out of the great hall. She slouched on the throne and ran both hands through her hair, letting out a groan of relief that it was done..

“Today did seem a much greater test of your patience than most,” he chuckled sympathetically, offering her his hand. ”I’m proud of you for not punching anyone, much as I’m sure you wanted to.”

“Thanks, city slicker.” She took his hand and used it to lever herself out of the throne. Her knees were stiff from sitting so long, as was her back. She stretched like a cat, rolling her shoulders to try and loosen the tight muscles. “Berath’s ass, I need to go do somethin’ fun.”

“By which you mean beat the stuffing out of some poor training dummy?” He didn’t let go of her hand as they started down the dais steps.

Tavi shrugged. “’Less Keya or somebody’s willin’ to go a few rounds with me, probably. Is Ioan here? He’s always good for a fight....”

Aloth shook his head. “You sent him to Whitewreath, remember? He hasn’t made it back yet.”

“Oh, right. Fine.” She pinched he bridge of her nose as they stepped through the doors out onto the grounds. “I need my armor. And sabres. And then I need to beat the shit outta somethin’, be it willin’ hireling or sacrificial dummy.”

However, antsy as she was to hit something, enjoy her freedom on a rather beautiful evening, the man loitering near the fountain stood out too much to be ignored. His height and build suggested he was folk, the cut of his burgundy shirt and rich brown jerkin suggested Vailian origin, but none of that seemed terribly relevant considering his corkscrewing ash-grey horns and the flickering flames that swirled around his head.

He grinned when he caught her staring, looked her over right back. “Watcher?”

Tavi crossed her arms and arched a brow. “What’s it to ya?”

He made a deep, theatrical bow that trailed embers and smoke, spark-bright eyes dancing as he met her gaze. “Elias Colgrin at your service, ac? I realize your time is precious and you are likely sick to death of kith asking for your help-”

“But you’re planning to do so, regardless?” Aloth interjected dryly. He looked distinctly unimpressed by the man’s showmanship.

“With no obligation to do more than talk, I assure you, aimico,” Elias winked. “I believe we share a past... mutual acquaintance, and merely wished a conversation.”

Tavi’s brow arched even higher. “I don’t have a lot of acquaintances,” she commented, wondering how long Elias had carried the customary mes Réi before he shed it in favor of his own name, clever as it was. “Who do you imagine we know in common?”

There were only two options, far as she was concerned. He knew someone from Silversteel, or had had a run-in of his own with the copperfuckers who kept trying to kill her.

“Ah, Watcher, you misunderstand.” He shook his head and leveled a significant look at her. “A past mutual acquaintance.”

The pieces clicked as she stared right back. There was a feeling, a sense, to fellow Awakened souls; maybe only something she noticed due to being a Watcher, but whatever it was hung around Elias like a newly purchased cloak. Now that was interesting... She grabbed his elbow and dragged him toward Brighthollow, Aloth scrambling to catch up with her abrupt start.

“Tavi,” he hissed, “what’re you doing?!”

Elias chuckled before she could reply. “...You know, dear Watcher, it is usually customary to ask when you wish someone’s company.”

“You fuckin’ wish,” she retorted, then turned to Aloth. “Just trust me.”

He nodded and quickened his pace to open the door for her. Tavi released Elias’ arm once they were inside and led the way up to one of the now-empty rooms her companions had used. She opted to lean against the wall rather than sit on one of the chairs left behind.

“So.” She inclined her chin toward Elias as he dropped into one chair so his chest pressed against the back. “Exactly what ‘past acquaintance’ d’you think we share?”

“Oh...” He let the word trail off coyly. “A certain enigmatic Engwithan. Tall, imposing, impressive beard.” The bright spark of one eye briefly winked closed as he grinned. “Feel free to stop me when you guess it.”

"I think I got it,” Tavi deadpanned. “For someone who acknowledges how precious my time is, Elias, you sure seem intent on fuckin’ wastin’ it with fancy talk and guessing games. If you have somethin’ to say and aren’t just blowin’ smoke, cut the bullshit and say it.”

Elias rested his chin on the back of the chair. “Fair enough. The fancy talk and bullshit is my bread and butter; it’s hard to let it go, ac?” He cocked his head as he looked at her, the flames dimming slightly. “Thaos. I knew him. As did you.”

“What makes you think I did?” she asked, eyes narrowed. She knew some details of her pursuit had become common knowledge, but others had not. MAde her wonder where he’d gotten that idea.

He smiled thinly and shook his head. “Now who’s wasting your time? I do not come to accuse or recruit or whatever you think I’m up to. But I do know that you knew him. Previously.”

“How?” Aloth frowned as he settled in the other chair.

“Kith talk,” Elias shrugged. “You hear things, ac? Especially when in a tavern at the same time as another storyteller.”

She took his meaning; there’d been a good two decades where tavern chatter was her primary method of acquiring information. Kith did talk, especially when they were drunk, excited, or both. “Alright, then, how did you know him?”

He smirked and the flames flickered. “As a shepherd knows a wolf, honey-tongued and wily, come to steal his flock. As one who heard treacherous Iovara and her dutiful sister held up to contrast the waiting fates by those who saw their story unfold. I knew him as a smugly grinning judge who won my people to his faith in a trickle turned torrent, then accused me of heresy for not bending the knee to his wishes.” His Vailian lilt, which had vanished as he shared his past life’s experience, returned, and he smirked. “Heresy that could be forgiven through conversion and repentance, of course. Submission. Otherwise, the cleansing grip of Berath awaited, and hopefully my next life would be more receptive.” Elias gave a dark chuckle. “Given the memories do not extend much further, I think he--I--chose an honest death over a lived lie.”

“Good choice,” Tavi muttered, pushing away memories of pious hymns and muddy boots and the smiling face of a sister not yet betrayed. “And an interestin’ tale, I’ll give ya that.” She shoved off the wall and gave him a measuring look. “How long have you--”

“Been Awakened?” He shrugged gamely. “Only a few months, aimica.”

She raised a brow. “You’re handlin’ it a lot fuckin’ better than I did that early in.”

“Well, I can’t speak to your experiences, but bearing Magran’s favor has necessitated learning to roll with the punches.” His eyes sparked brighter as he grinned. “Or, at least, look like you’re rolling with the punches.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve dealt with some fuckin’ stiff punches,” Tavi snarked. “Dealin’ with an Awakened soul is still a pretty big change. ‘Specially when they’re real different from you.”

Aloth coughed into the back of his hand and Tavi winked at him.

“All that aside, though,” she said to Elias, “what made you come to me? Thaos is dead an’ fuckin’ gone, so you’re a couple months late for revenge.”

“What good would that have done me, anyway?” Elias scoffed. “He did not seem the type to ever question if he was wrong. Besides, the past is the past.”

“Well, then,” she cracked her knuckles, “why are you here?”

“As I said, kith talk. You hear things, ac?” He spread his hands. “From the tales I hear, Thaos has been manipulating the course of history and faith itself for centuries... millennia. I thought, .between the two of us, if we compared experiences--memories--we could perhaps find some wrongs he caused, or at least set in motion, that could be made right.”

Tavi’s thoughts drifted to the speech Thaos had made, the boasting of plagues allowed, beneficent leaders replaced with tyrants. He didn’t seem to leave survivors in his wake, aside from his own followers. And sometimes they weren’t even so lucky. Sacrifices for the greater good. Finding some of the means he’d decided were justified by ends and setting things right was an enticing thought.

“It’s.... not a bad plan,” Aloth muttered, the grudging words yanking her from her reverie.

“Wait, you agree with him?” she blurted. She’d figured it would take at least a couple rounds of persuading.

“Not entirely,” he clarified, twisting one of his rings. “I’m not sure, at this point, how much good you can actually accomplish; in most cases it’s far too late for recompense. But if the two of you compare notes, as it were, you may be able to establish an idea of his patterns and methods, making it easier to trace events he may have influenced.”

“Ac, another good point,” Elias gestured broadly and grinned at Aloth. “I had not considered that; you may also find that useful.”

“And what’re you gettin’ outta this?” Tavi probed. “Most kith I’ve met aren’t this helpful outta the goodness of their hearts, why’re you so fuckin’ eager to help?”

“Who would not wish a chance to solve mysteries or right wrong hundreds of years in the making?” His grin widened and he leaned into the chair back, making it rock on two feet. “The tales alone would be worth my weight in gold, aimica. And to have the honor and privilege of working with the legendary Watcher Tavi Illani, Roadwarden of Caed Nua, well,” the chair thunked emphatically down on all four legs once more. “That will make me highly desirable to the curious. Knowing heroes always pays well for storytellers.”

Tavi stared at him as she weighed out his free acknowledgement of using her for the name recognition to line his pockets against the potential benefits of his proposal. He held her gaze steadily, the flames flickering and twisting around his horns as he waited. It sounded interesting, more fun than most parts of being the Lady of the castle, anyway,and if there was risk to it, well, that had never scared her before. “Eh, we can give it a fuckin’ try,” she finally shrugged.

“Belfetto!” Elias chuckled. “Agracima, Watcher.”

“Just call me Tavi.” She pointed a cautionary finger at him. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said as he pushed to his feet. “Hardly seems wise to cross one with your reputation, eh?”

“Smart man,” she smirked. “There are plenty of rooms free, since most of my friends have gone their separate ways, so you can have your pick of those. We can work things out tomorrow; gives you time to settle in and I” --she headed for the door, snagging Aloth’s hand to tug him to his feet as she passed--”have a previous engagement.”

“Agreeable terms,” Elias nodded, flames dancing brightly. “I shall see you tomorrow, then.”

“Both of us,” Aloth chimed in. However agreeable he was to Elias’ proposal, he clearly remained skeptical of the man himself. Probably a good thing one of them wasn’t swept up in the lure of righting wrongs and fucking up Thaos’ schemes.

“Ac, of course,” Elias agreed easily.

“Well, this should be interestin’,” Tavi said, linking her fingers between Aloth’s as they headed for her room so she could get her armor and sabres.

“That is one word for it,” he replied dryly.

“Oh, c’mon, city slicker.” She squeezed his hand. “Even if he is just blowin’ smoke”--he rolled his eyes and she grinned at the pun--”having another Awakened perspective on Thaos will be interestin’. It’s a damn good word and you know it.”

“I will concede the point,” Aloth said. He released her hand as they stepped into her room.

“Thought you might,” she gloated as she gathered up the lighter chain shirt she used for sparring and grabbed her sabres. He rolled his eyes again. But Tavi caught his fond smile as they headed out of Brighthollow. He knew, sketchy as it might be, she would enjoy this pursuit much more than she would warming a throne for hours on end and listening to people complain.The possibilities of it were already getting her excited, she had to admit.

Whatever came of it, this would prove very interesting, indeed.

-----------

So, yeah, new OC. :D He’s somewhere between Tekéhu and Scanlan personality-wise, and while I love him, you can imagine how well Aloth will get along with him. :P

#queens fic #pillars prompts weekly #tavi illani #aloth corfiser #elias colgrin #pillars of eternity

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ergomaria · 5 years

Text

The Past is Gone (but something might be found) Preview Pt. III

Somehow, the text from the original post was deleted when I tried to edit the tags to make this easier to sort. I’ve restored it. Once again, I’m just posting this as a reminder that I’m alive and still trying to write!

PLOT: Vann, Meetra, and Carth touch the wrong thing at the wrong shrine and are turned into themselves at 18. Alek finds himself paying his penance to the Force when he has to simultaneously watch over the trio while trying to figure out how to restore them to their proper ages.

Now saddled with three teenagers and very few clues, Alek nodded in acquiescence as he trudged back towards the Hawk. Luckily, they were all fairly well behaved during the walk. Once they reached the ship the real fun began.

“So, do any of you know the codes to get back on the ship?”

There was a long bout of uncomfortable silence during which it became clear that no adult knowledge about the freighter had stuck with the teens. The worst part was that Alek did know the codes but couldn’t admit that fact without seeming suspicious. The next best option was to rewire the door panel and go from there.

“Alright, here’s a better question. Do any of you know how to rewire a hatch?”

Predictably, it was Deran who raised his hand. “Obviously I can, at least if I have the correct tools. Unfortunately, I don’t have my normal gear…”

The amount of places that Vann had broken into or out of during his search for the Star Forge still grated on Alek’s nerves. He knew for a fact there was a multitool tucked somewhere in that worn black jacket, but it was yet another fact he couldn’t openly share. “This might sound absurd, but everyone check your pockets. If your clothing originally belonged to spacers, and it looks like it did, the original owners may have left something useful behind.”

It was a risky gamble since there was always a chance that one of them had identifying documents on their person. But Alek was hoping they’d left those behind to perform a mission as covert as hiding a highly dangerous Sith holocron. Onasi’s civilian clothing was the best indicator that this might be the case. For once the Force was on his side and the search produced nothing but various odds and ends. An extra reload for the blasters, a few credits, a ration bar, a medpac, and finally a multitool that Vann had definitely purchased illegally.

Deran was predictably pleased to find the item and immediately set to work rewiring the door to his own ship. Meanwhile, Alek quietly filed that irony away for later. When the exit ramp slid open with a smooth hiss, Onasi practically cracked a tooth in his desperate attempt to not look impressed.

The inside of the Hawk was in partial disarray, though it was hard to tell if this was from whatever had transpired to turn three adults into teenagers or the mere fact that it was Vann’s ship and thus naturally full of clutter. Either way, the mess made it easier for Alek to order the teens to remain in the main hold where it was neater and theoretically ‘safer’ while he ‘checked’ the rest of the freighter. As soon as he was sure they would stay put, he moved into the cockpit to look for further clues.

Despite his tendency towards random piles of mechanical parts, Vann was absolutely fastidious when it came to researching locations and making notes about what he discovered. Before the original trip to Dromund Kaas he’d compiled an entire datapad full of files on the history of Sith purebloods, their laws, and their customs. While Nirauan had significantly less information recorded, there was still a pad with multiple paragraphs discussing the planet’s connection to both the Rakata Infinite Empire and the Force itself. It seemed that the crew was aiming to land near a series of suspected Rakata ruins that had a notable presence.

Datapad in hand, Alek peeked into the main hold to inform his charges of his next step. “Just so you’re aware, I think I found a series notes mentioning that this planet has a strange connection to the Force. I don’t know if it has anything to do with your current situation, but we can’t rule it out. I have a friend who might be able to untangle the few clues we currently have, so I’m going to comm her using the ship’s unit. Just wait here until I’m done.”

“Is she a Jedi?” Meetra was sprawled across two seats looking dangerously bored.

“She was at one time, but she’s since left the Order. However, she’s very knowledge about certain subjects and I feel that her input will be extremely helpful.” One of the subjects she had a great deal of experience with was being a Force prodigy and another was ancient artifacts from the Infinite Empire, currently making her the galaxy’s only authority on the situation. When there were no further questions, Alek hurried away to contact Rakata Base in the hope of begging Bastila for assistance.

“Vann?” The young woman’s face immediately darkened when she saw who was on the other end of the call. “Why are you there and where is Vann?”

“I’m here because Meetra contacted me when there was a complication with their current mission,” Alek hissed as quietly as possible. Noting the concern that immediately overtook Bastila’s face he assured her, “Everyone is healthy. I hesitate to say ‘fine’ because, well… Somehow, through a combination of some Rakta ruins and a Sith holocron, all three members of this crew are currently teenagers with no memories of their adult selves. I’d estimate them between seventeen and nineteen, if I had to guess.”

The incredulous glare was absolutely scathing. “You’ve picked a poor time to develop a sense of humor.”

“Why in Sith hells would I joke about this? I currently have three teenagers in the hold of this damn ship who are convinced that I’m a Jedi Sentinel named Naver who happened to sense a disturbance in the Force. Since it’s blatantly clear that my creativity it lacking, you can be sure that I couldn’t make this bantha fodder up if I tried!”

“Dustil, can you please come here? Our former ‘master’ is on the comm and he believes that he’s being hilarious. Perhaps you can convince him to tell me what’s really going on.”

“What the hells is going on now, Malak?” The younger Onai looked supremely irritated, which actually mirrored how Alek was currently feeling.

“That’s not my name.”

Appearing unbothered by the correction, Dustil sneered for a moment before snapping, “What kinrath nest did Vann get my dad into this time?”

“Oh, did he not tell you? Supposedly through the will of the Force, Vann, Meetra, and your father are now teenagers with no memory of their adult lives.” Bastila looked equally unamused. “Funny, yes?”

“Hi-kriffing-larious.”

Alek was about two second from hanging up and hoping that Rand would be more helpful, if only to get Meetra back into her proper body, when a slender figure crept into the room just within view of the comm unit.

“Um, Knight Naver, I apologize for bothering you but…”

There was a loud pop of static from the other end of the comm, which turned out to be Bastila covering the microphone with her hand so that she could curse for about thirty seconds straight.

“Yes, Deran? I was actually just telling me friend Bastila a bit about you and the others in the hope that she’d be willing to assist us in figuring out what happened. Perhaps you’d like to speak with her about your current situation? It could be useful.”

It was hard to tell who was more bewildered by the entire scenario. Luckily, Deran’s natural curiosity quickly took hold and he slipped over to the console and situated himself before the camera. “Hello, Bastila was it? What did you want to ask me?”

“Oh stars…” The young woman was doing a poor job of disguising her surprise, though she still managed to stutter, “I apologize for my lack of manners. You just… remind me of someone I know. No matter. Actually, Deran, I was just wondering how, ah, how old you are.”

“You really aren’t a Jedi, are you? Sorry, that was rude. It’s just… everyone in the Order always seems to know everything about me. But uh, I turned eighteen a few months ago.”

“Two years before Knighthood…”

“Bastila, be careful. You don’t want to scare the boy!” While it was technically true that Deran became the youngest Knight in the order at age twenty, that wasn’t information his eighteen-year old self knew. It wasn’t until nineteen that his trials actually began.

Plastering on a false smile, the young woman quickly stammered, “That’s just a guess on my part. Though, of course, I could be wrong. It’s not like I can see the future and you’re so very… young.”

Unfortunately, just the mention of Knighthood had made Deran’s back go stiff, his jaw ticking in the corner even as his expression remained stoic and proper. “Well, that’s for the Council to decide. They know best.” Even at this age he sounded thoroughly unconvinced. “What else do you want to ask me?”

“That’s… that’s it.” Turning to Alek, Bastila stated, “I believe you and I’ll do whatever I can to help. Just tell me what you need.”

“I’ll send you all of the data I have in a minute. Let me just find out what brought Deran in here in the first place.”

“I came in to let you know that Carth and Meetra left the ship. They said that they got tired of waiting for you and decided to explore on their own.” The teen winced slightly. “Also, they may have been flirting? I’m not always great at telling that type of stuff, but it’s possible they just went to go and… you know.”

The snort of hysterics from Dustil was all the confirmation that Alek needed to know that this entire situation was his punishment from the Force. Part of him considered letting Meetra and Onasi do whatever they wanted. Someone else could deal with the fallout. But he also needed to get Deran out of the room to prevent him from snooping. “I’m concerned that they’re going to get themselves into trouble. There are some very powerful ruins on this planet and I’d hate for them to make the current situation even more complicated. Can I trust you to find them and bring them back safely?”

It was an underhanded ploy. Alek was fully aware that Deran’s facade of teenage bravado combined with his crippling fear of failure would make him agree to almost any task without question. But the former Sith didn’t have time to chase two teenagers down, all while trying to keep a third from learning that he was currently speaking with his own kriffing Padawan.

As expected, Deran immediately nodded. “Of course. I’ll bring them back as quickly as possible.”

It wasn’t until the teen’s footfalls disappeared off the ship that Alek sat down with a sigh, his head pounding from the sheer mental acrobatics required to keep this situation moving forward. As he uploaded the information from Vann’s datapad he grumbled, “For Force sake, Dustil. I thought your father would be the responsible one!”

The damned kid was still laughing. “Just checking, but is Meetra the teenager as pretty as Meetra the adult? Big blue eyes and wavy blonde hair?”

Attempting to be objective about the attractiveness of someone who was like a sister to him, Alek shrugged. “I suppose? She was more petite at this age, almost willowy. I honestly think she looks better with some muscle. Less delicate.”

“I don’t care either way, it’s just… My dad kinda has a type. Or, at least he did at that point in his life. My mom was petite with wavy, honey-brown hair. They met when he was twenty.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope, you can look up the files for Morgana Onasi if you want. I um, I have. Just to see her, you know? It helps me to remember her face…” Shaking away his melancholy, Dustil cleared his throat. “Ah, anyway, at eighteen my Dad was really responsible when it came to official things. Training and studying? He was incredibly dedicated. But when he had time to himself he kind of… let loose. Nothing really bad, just a lot of drinking and fooling around with his fellow cadets. Put a bunch of bored, horny teenagers in the same dorm and stuff happens.”

Alek had lived in the Jedi dormitories during puberty and was well aware of what could happen. He winced.

“The good news is that my dad definitely liked men at that age as well… Please don’t ask how I know this. It was a really awkward conversation that only happened because I got mad at him and… ugh. But the good news is that he might rediscover how amazing Vann is. He is really great at this age, right?”

“He’s actually an anxious mess who likes to pretend he’s confident, which just comes off as arrogance. It doesn’t help that he’s actually good at whatever he does. Honestly, I think your father currently wants to throttle him.”

“Ouch. Well, maybe they’ll lose all memory of this once they get restored to their actual ages!”

“We can only hope the Force is that kind.” Rubbing his forehead, Alek asked, “Bastila, have you looked over those files I sent?”

“I’m reading them now and I’ll run them through the Rakata archives when I’m done. But you should be aware that, while we have a significant amount of information on the Infinite Empire, we don’t have much else. Vann tries to update what he can, but it’s still nothing compared to what the Jedi possess.”

“Do your best, it’s still more than I have access to on this ship.”

“I do have an idea, but you’re not going to like it one bit.” Upon noting Alek’s hopeful expression, Bastila sighed...

#kotor 2 #kotor 2 fanfic #wip excerpt #revan #male Revan #vann chis #The Jedi Exile #Female exile #Alek Squinquargesimus #Malak #bastila shan #dustil onasi #my writing #not perfection but completeness

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thestraggletag · 5 years

Text

The Deal, a RCIJ Fic

Author’s Note: It is I, @iatethebiscuit, your Secret Santa! So happy to say I had NO panicky “DID I HIT THE ANON BUTTON?” moments with you this year, which was a pleasant surprise. Thanks for letting me be your santa and for giving me ideas and support! I hope this is to your liking and happy Christmas in July. which totally should be a real thing.

Also I’m sorry that the summary absolutely BLOWS this time around but I promise it’s a good story!

Prompt: Is the baby okay?

Summary: To wish for a child is a dangerous thing, Belle knows. As it is to make a deal with a creature as old and as powerful as Mr Gold. But everything worth having required leaps of faith and bouts of bravery, including love.

Rating: M

She smirked, looking at the clock right next to the Children’s Corner to confirm that she had guessed right. As she had imagined it wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning. When he’d begun to visit her almost daily Mr Gold made a pretence of stopping by on his way to Granny’s for a lunch break, his entire demeanour as professional and as aloof as ever as he enquired after her child with the same tone as one might enquire after the weather. It was calculated and effortless at the same time and she marvelled at his capacity for subterfuge. If he hadn’t pulled the same stunt at least half a dozen times before she wouldn’t have noticed. She rubbed her swollen belly absentmindedly, smiling down at it.

“He’s been sleeping all day, but I can feel him moving now.”

She was sure it wasn’t a coincidence, sure that her babe could feel Mr Gold the same way she could sense him when he was nearby. She wondered what other people saw when they looked at him, since they clearly could not see what she did.

“Little one must be hungry.” His voice sounded concerned, but she couldn’t tell whether it was genuine or a pretext for what was coming next. “I think a trip to Granny’s is in order.”

Belle was sure he was convinced she’d forget to eat entirely if he didn’t remind her, and to be fair that did tend to happen from time to time, specially when she got her hands on an interesting book. He leaned forward, eyes glowing gold for a second, so faintly she barely caught it.

“You need the protein, dearie. Wee bairn is hungering for something bloody. I must insist.”

His smile was predatory and nowhere near human, and he kept it as she attacked a rare steak in front of him with relish, Ruby commenting on how it was good to see her eating so well.

“Baby’s gonna be a strong little wolf. Granny’s been knitting him an entire winter wardrobe.”

She made sure her friend was out of earshot before laughing.

“I can’t believe it still. No one’s said a peep about it. They just accept the baby, as if it’s completely normal that I just up and got pregnant one day.”

“I did promise you, my dear. And I never break a deal.”

Another shark smile, another flash of gold in his eyes and a bit of scales on his neck. And yet no one else could see it. She had been able to tell right away, though, even from afar. It hadn’t been the first time either, so it hadn’t shocked her. She had always been aware of things most people didn’t see, but hadn’t realised at first it was strange, because her mother had been like her too, had been able to see things that for most people weren’t there. People who glimmered, small creatures that blinked in an out of existence, beings that were see-through or disguised themselves as animals.

She’d hated it, after her mother died, for a long time. Especially during her commitment, when every glimpse of something other had felt like the universe mocking her. She’d had made her peace with it since then, and now saw her oddity as a nice gift from her mother, something to remember her by.

Even though she’d had always been able to see what others didn’t, she couldn’t say she’d ever encountered anything like Mr Gold. Ancient, for one, and powerful, dangerous in a way that had made her wary of approaching him at first. He’d always been cordial and courteous with her, but his reputation as a cutthroat dealmaker had put her off, even though the deals people talked about were not like the one she had in mind. To mix magic with a reputation like that could only spell trouble.

But her need had been too strong, so in the end she had caved in and sought him out, finding out his true name and summoning him. It was an old practice, out of style as he’d told her later, and had caught him by surprise. He above any other fae she’d been able to spot had mastered the art of adaptability: where others struggled and faded he changed and survived, thrived even. He hadn’t thought there were humans who could see into his true nature anymore, not unless he revealed himself.

Luckily he had been amenable to the deal, once she had explained it. A deal with a fairy for a child was as straightforward as it came, once upon a time it had been a common enough bargain for whoever was willing to pay a price. But now, with science and adoption, and the abandonment of the belief in magic and the old ways, it was a rarity. But science hadn’t been enough to help her conceive, and her mental history made adoption impossible in practice, if not in theory.

She had told him that, in the most succinct way possible, unwilling to share more than what was absolutely necessary. When he’d enquired about the potential father of the babe she’d told him there was no one to fill that position. Romantic love had never come easy to her, and certainly never the kind that she’d want to cement in such a permanent way. But she longed for family, for a child. He’d done it before, he told her, granted the wish for a child to a woman with no husband or partner.

“It’s not impossible, but it does come at a steep cost, particularly taking into account what I must contribute. Are you willing to pay it, dearie?”

Fifteen years was a lot of time to shave off her life expectancy, but not so much that it would mean leaving her child motherless before they reached adulthood, which was what she cared most about. He had gone into the back room of his shop, where she could tell most of the objects displayed were not what they seemed, particularly the old spinning wheel in the corner. He’d spun literal straw into Gold- if fit, given his true name- and had fashioned the thread into a small seed, which he had instructed her to ingest if and when she was ready. She had swallowed it with a glass of water the moment she was back at the library and had woken up with a white streak in her hair and her stomach roiling with what she discovered was morning sickness.

She had stopped by his shop to thank him, hugging him in her exuberance. He’d shied away in a manner that was a stark contradiction to his dangerous nature, fingers twitching nervously. He’d looked ancient then, atrophied in some way, before she blinked and his usual mask was back on. He’d congratulated her in a stilted way, assuring her that he always delivered on a deal and all that he detailed in it.

“You’re miles away, Miss French, and that steak’s getting cold.” He gently tapped her wrist, encircled by a gold woven bracelet. “My magic may give the child a lot of what he needs, but it can only do so much.”

She had almost forgotten how awful the first months of the pregnancy had been. Nothing had stayed down at first. Citrics in particular became revolting to her, as did a lot, if not most, of processed food. Everyone kept telling her it was normal but she grew concerned as she began to lose weight instead of gaining it. When she grew deeply scared she went to Mr Gold, who seemed genuinely offended she had not come to him sooner.

“I promised a healthy bairn, Miss French. You should’ve told me if that promise didn’t seem to be materialising.”

Gingerly, after asking her for permission, he laid a hand on her stomach, closing his eyes and frowning after a few seconds. When he opened his eyes again he looked at her in a strangely speculative way and sent her home with instructions to eat very rare meat and berries. The meal, as unappetising as it had sounded, was delicious and settled nicely in her stomach. No one commented on her new habit of purchasing meat daily- though her librarian budget rankled a bit- nor did they question her long walks in the woods in search of blackberries and the like.

She hadn’t expected to see Mr Gold once the problem resolved itself, though her energy was still flagging and she was having problems with falling asleep several times during the day. But he began to come to the library often, enquiring after a particular book or a topic of interest, and during the conversation he��d ask after the child, as if it was a passing concern. He’d get close sometimes, closer than what she was used to with him in any case, and his visage would turn less human than usual for a moment or two, as if his human facade slipped slightly.

It wasn’t until he found her dozing off in the Ancient History section that he told her of a notion he’d had for a while, that he could now confirm. He smelt magic around her, which he hadn’t before, and with the further development of the baby had been able to confirm the magic came from him. It was that what was leeching her energy, the wee one’s magical aptitudes developing, using her life force in order to do so.

“An unexpected development, for sure, but not entirely out of the question. Changeling children have always been rare, but nowadays they’re downright a near impossibility. The only time I’ve ever produced a child with only one human parent he was fully human himself, so I had no notion things would not be the same this time around. I do apologise for the inconvenience, Miss French, and have devised a means of helping you through the rest of your pregnancy.”

It was then that he gave her the gold bracelet, which shimmered in a way she knew had nothing to do with the metal it was made out of.

“It’s got enough of my magic to feed the babe. It should make things easier from now on.”

The bracelet had indeed done as he’d promised and soon she began to notice the increasing swell of her stomach. Though she had been afraid of what the townspeople would say, no one commented on it, and if they did it was only to congratulate her. Not one question about the father, or a snide remark on her single status. It was all as Mr Gold promised.

Magic worked mysteriously, but it puzzled her less than the fae himself, who kept turning up at the library or at Granny’s when she was around, something he had not done before. His interest in the child was soon obvious- “I aim to keep my end of the bargain, lest my reputation suffer.”- and surprisingly she found that she did not mind it. Aside from the fascination that his non-human nature inspired he was an old creature, and had lived a fascinating life. One that she could sometimes cajole him into share tidbits of with her, though at first with the clear intention of putting her off and curtail her curiosity. He told her of the wars he’d seen, the violence and horror of the days of old, when magic was much more plentiful and the greed of man and fae had done terrible things with it. He seemed surprised when that did not stop her questions of her welcoming his company, but it did not stop his visits, just changed them in a way she couldn’t quite describe.

He was a hoarder, of both stories and objects. It became usual for him to let her take a peek into the back room of his shop, often telling her about an item there and the power it possessed. Most of them had once been worthy of awe and fear, but time had leached their magic away bit by bit till little remained. Enough to make the object hum to Belle’s eyes and ears, still, but nothing that inspired the feelings Mr Gold did.

She offered bits of herself for every part of his long life he shared with her. Things about her mother and herself, the strange gift they both shared and the bond it had created. One particularly vulnerable afternoon he enquired after her time at the asylum, in hushed, respectful tones. He listened patiently to her recollection of it. Her father had had her committed, soon after her mother’s passing. He’d meant well, which he told her only made things worse, more painful. She hadn’t been able to reconcile with him before he’d passed away, and as she cried, holding on to the fae in a manner she had no right to, he told her he’d seldom met anyone so brave. He’d told her about the other child he’d created with no father, Baelfire, and how he’d also been brave.

“Too brave for someone who could die so easily, though I suppose I was lucky.”

He told her how his mother had made a second deal with him when the lad was around four, giving him up in exchange for riches and adventure, and how he’d raised him up as his own, which he was in a way. They shared enough in terms of blood for the child to be a vulnerability that could be used against him, so he’d taken him in. He’d raised him, thinking that he could one day make a deal with him for eternal life so they could be together. But the child had been too human, and had grown old and faded before his eyes.

It began to worry her, that. Her child, her son, would he be human enough to grow old and die? He didn’t want him to grow lonely, specially since she’d die sooner than even a regular human was expected to. Mr Gold, she’d learned, was painfully lonely, in a way she would never understand, as lonely as she had sometimes felt, particularly at the asylum. To live centuries alone, to watch his kin fade and die…

She had never met a creature more apt for survival. Cunning and patient, clever and powerful, it did not take much to understand how he’d gotten to be so old, and so prosperous. And so tired, at the same time. A long life of isolation sounded like the worst sort of punishment, and she grew worried for her child, for little Gideon. So when she began catching Mr Gold looking at her swollen belly, his hands twitching in that way she knew meant he wanted to reach out, to feel the babe, she grew hopeful. Gideon need not be alone after she was gone if the fae took an interest in him.

The more she thought about it the more it made sense, though she didn’t dare voice her new hope aloud. Instead she concentrated on feeding his budding interest in her child, letting him see ultrasounds and telling him about doctor’s appointments and such. And little by little, day by day, a sort of greed grew in Mr Gold’s eyes. Like a light slowly being turned on inside him, bringing newfound life to him. His dull scales, when they showed, now shone with a deeper gold colour and his presence grew in weight, to the point that Belle could feel him way before he stepped into her Library when he came to visit.

Those visits turn to trips to Granny’s and sometimes back to his shop. A strange sort of tension grew between them, which Belle hoped meant Mr Gold was getting attached, was seeing the possibility offered to him of a child that could be a companion, and was now looking to make a new deal, to tie himself to the child. She pushed further, gently prying into his personal space, where the very air seemed to softly vibrate with the echoes of his restrained power. He was skittish at first, endearingly so, but once the baby started moving he became intrigued by the notion of it, daring to ask once or twice to feel it.

It was unexpected but nice to have a partner through the pregnancy. Mr Gold wasn’t as she had expected, certainly less fearsome than shat had thought at first. Handsome, for sure, in a way that she hoped little Gideon would inherit. That and his sense of humour, dry and dark and just the right kind of strange.

She’d miss the closeness once little Gid was born and Mr Gold would have less incentive to interact directly with her. The closer she grew to her due date the more restless she became, both mentally and physically. Pregnancy, which had given her glowing skin- with the tiniest bit of an unnatural shine, she noticed, her child’s magic and Gold’s mingling on her skin- and great hair, had overstayed its welcome and turned acutely uncomfortable, specially when it came to sleep.

Her discomfort grew to the point that Mr Gold remarked on it, nose scrunched up.

“You reek of desperation, my dear. Whatever is the matter?”

She explained, though she imagined the pacing she was doing was helping her convey her problem more than her words ever could. He tilted his head, considering her.

“Want to strike a deal, Miss French?”

The words were purred at her in his customary brogue, thicker than what was usual. She’d interpreted the deepening of his accent around her as a sign that he had grown comfortable around her. He also dropped his human mask more around her, with his face sometimes entirely covered by his scales and his nails sharpened into claws. She looked forward increasingly to those small glimpses of his true nature.

“What do you have in mind, Mr Gold?”

“I’ll trade you relaxations for… that button on your pocket.”

It was a trifle, a small golden button she’d found at the bottom of her closet, matching none of her clothes. Knowing it for the transparent attempt at help that it was she eagerly handed it over, hoping for a quick magical solution to her problem. Instead, to her quiet disappointment, Mr Gold led her to the spinning wheel in the back room, helping her sit down on the stool beside it and taking a seat on a bench behind her.

“Spinning has always calmed me. There’s something in the rhythm of it, in the motion of the wheel and the feel of the wool on the skin.” His voice was low, like honey. “Almost hypnotic.”

He was quite adept, and Belle had to admit it was relaxing to watch him go through the motions. The wheel made a gentle, steady sound as it spun. She leaned back against the solid chest of the man behind her, thankful when he did not object. She felt him tense up slightly, his magic spiking around him, and she shivered at the sensation of it. Another type of tension grew inside her, a pulsing from below her navel that made her fidget in her seat.

“Rumple…”

She had used his real only once before, when she’d summoned him, but in the privacy of her own thoughts she’d been referring to him as such for a long time. He made a low, guttural sound behind her, hands dropping the wool and leaving the wheel to slide up her arms and down her torso, curving possessively around her swollen stomach. She felt his nose against the skin of her neck, his breath causing goosebumps where it touched her. She could tell he was holding himself back but barely, a feral, powerful creature straining against the bonds of his self-imposed restraint. His hands- green-gold and clawed, no longer human- drifted down to spread across her bare thighs, pushing the fabric of her summer dress up around her waist. He didn’t go any further, though, causing her to whimper and shift around. She reached out behind her to grab a fistful of his hair, noticing it curled, no longer straight.

“You… you promised…”

He hadn’t exactly, but it was a way to let him know she was more than okay with it, if he was. Belatedly, as he felt his fingers dip inside her underwear, she recalled the greedy looks she had seen him give her and wondered for the first time if she had misinterpreted them. But just as she felt as if she was about to come to some sort of monumental realisation she felt his fingers inside her, and his other hand cupping her breast. The scent of magic grew strong in the air as she rocked against him, feeling him hard and warm behind her, power made flesh and completely devoted to her needs. Time stretched and contracted as they moved together until with a sharp spark deep inside her cunt she felt the tension explode inside her, making her toes curl and her spine tingle. He followed her a second later with a cry he muffled against her hair, murmuring something in a language she could not understand. She brushed aside all worries about what would come next, with the birth of her child and therefore the end of their first deal, so nearby. If she could have nothing more, she would at least have this.

For all the magic that had been involved in Gideon’s conception and her subsequent pregnancy, the delivery was as normal as it could be. Her little boy was born after four and a half hours of delivery, looking perfect, specially once the swelling and the redness went down. He was resting peacefully in her arms when Mr Gold showed up, dapper in his three-piece suit and his long coat, a hint of gold about his eyes and the smell of magic around him. Belle cuddled Gideon closer, happy to detect, behind the smell of baby powder, the same scent about him.

“Do you wish to meet him, Rumple?”

It was a bit awkward to treat him in such a familiar manner after what it had happened, but with her son in her arms she felt particularly brave and unwilling to let things become stilted and stiff between them. He approached her cautiously, his face soft and open when he saw the child. It was then that Belle knew she’d done everything right and that he was there to claim the child as partly his. She looked down at the babe, noticing the unnatural shade of blue of his eyes and the very slight golden shimmer of his skin, and smiled in relief.

“He looks just like you, don’t you think?”

There was no mistaking the child’s origins, not with those ears and nose. The fae came close enough to be able to see the child’s face, but no closer, nervous energy crackling around him.

“He was supposed to look like what you wished. I’m sorry.”

“And is it too hard to imagine I might have wanted him to look like you?”

The light teasing was meant to put him at ease, but it fell flat. If not for the barely-concealed look of longing on the fae’s face as he stared at the child Belle might have thought she had failed altogether in getting him to care for little Gideon.

“I mean, after all, you’re the child’s father.”

His right hand tightened painfully around the golden handle of his cane, scales rippling across the skin of his neck before disappearing.

“That’s not entirely true, is it? The deal was clear, the child is yours alone. But, perhaps… Perhaps there could be another deal. Half of the boy’s life for my own. In exchange, I’d share half of my life with you.”

It wasn’t exactly the deal she had anticipated, so it took her a moment to make out exactly what he meant.

“But… you live forever. What exactly are you proposing?”

He took a step closer, and another, till he was within reach. Yet he made no motion to touch the child or herself, though he looked very much like he wanted to do both.

“I’ll share my lifespan with you, Miss French, if you share the child’s life with me. It’d mean moving to my house, so we could build a… a home, so we could both share Gideon’s life. It’d be forever, so you best be sure.”

There was a lot he wasn’t saying. About them, about what he expected and hoped for when he talked of home and of sharing a life. But the look on his face made it abundantly clear. She felt her eyes begin to water and feared for a second that he would misunderstand, so she smiled widely, taking a shuddering breath to steady herself.

“It’s a deal.”

#rumbelle christmas in july #Rumbelle Christmas in July 2019 #Iatethebiscuit #rumbelle fic #Thestraggletag fanfiction #rumbelle

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emospritelet · 5 years

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Key to the Cell - chapter 5

[1] [2] [3] [4] [AO3 link]

Once breakfast was over, and the men had ridden out for the hunt with a cacophony of shouts and baying hounds, Belle retreated to the library to read the remaining chapters of the book. It told her nothing she didn’t already know, and squinting at the drawing of the ornamental dagger in the light of day still didn’t reveal what was written on it. She noticed that the drops of her blood had disappeared, though, sucked into the paper by the book’s own magic, no doubt. It was tempting to try the spell again, but she had nothing more to bargain with, and no desire to make any more demands on the Dark One’s time than she had already dealt for.

She put the book back on its shelf and sat back in her chair, thinking. It wasn’t the only book on the Dark One that existed, to be sure, but a search of the shelves before she sat down had yielded nothing further on the subject. Belle smiled to herself as she reached a decision. In the months that she and her father had been coming to Sir Gaston’s lands, she had made a friend of sorts. A purveyor of hard to find objects, he called himself, but he specialised in old books. If anyone would know where she could find out about the Dark One, it would be Jefferson.

Half an hour later she was taking the carriage into town, a tall, silent footman named Marcel and one of the maids, Celine, accompanying her. She knew it was for reasons of safety and propriety, but she missed the freedom of being in her own lands, with her own people. Here she was followed wherever she went, which was why she had begun sneaking down to the library at night for a brief taste of freedom. It felt as though Gaston’s servants were spying on her. As though she were a beautiful bird in a gilded cage, too valuable to be allowed to fly free, however briefly.

On this occasion, however, Marcel seemed more interested in the pretty maid than in her, the two of them sneaking glances at each other as the carriage rolled along, and a plan began to form in Belle’s mind. She kept a sharp eye out as they reached the market place, and once she spotted the shop she sought, she tapped on the roof of the carriage to stop and rummaged in her purse for some coins.

“Here,” she said, handing them to Marcel. “It’s a warm day and the road was dusty. Why don’t you both go to the tavern and have a cup of something while I visit the bookshop? It’s right across the street, you’ll be able to keep an eye on me.”

“We’re supposed to stay with you, milady,” said Celine automatically, but her eyes flicked to the footman again.

“I’ll only be ten minutes,” Belle assured her. “I want to enquire after some books I ordered. Once that’s done we’ll go to the haberdasher’s and the apothecary. You may both accompany me once you’ve quenched your thirst.”

Marcel and Celine shared a smile.

“Thank you, milady,” they said as one, and Marcel got out to hand Belle down.

She shook out her skirts, eyeing the shop she sought. The door was closed, but a bell above tinkled merrily when she pushed it open. The shelves inside lined every wall, and were filled with books, with cabinets holding ornaments and nautical navigation aids. There was a pleasing, familiar scent of parchment and leather and old paper, and Belle smiled as she glanced around, a sense of peace flowing over her.

She started as the proprietor bounced up from behind the counter, dressed in a russet-coloured coat over leather breeches and knee boots, a patterned cravat at his throat and a somewhat battered top hat on his head. Jefferson was a handsome man, with a ready grin and a glint in his eye, and from what she could tell, had a good heart and a keen sense of fun. He also had a young daughter named Grace, who liked to read as much as Belle had at her age, and Belle had given her some of her old books to borrow, much to Grace’s delight. Jefferson beamed at the sight of her.

“My Lady Belle!” he declared, sweeping a dramatic bow that was somewhat curtailed by the shop counter. “I’m delighted to see you! It’s been too long.”

“An entire week, at least,” she said, amused.

“Yes indeed.” He clasped his hands behind his back, bouncing on his toes. “Your frequent visits to my humble shop have not gone unnoticed. Why, only two days ago I had Sir Gaston’s steward come to visit me to enquire about them. Imagine my delight at such esteemed patronage.”

Belle’s blood ran cold.

“He was asking about me?” she said. “Why?”

“Oh, I’m sure your noble intended only wishes to ensure your safety,” said Jefferson cheerfully. “I’m to report back to him what you purchase from me. Romantic, no?”

Anger flared in her, and she felt her jaw protrude, as though straining against an invisible leash. She tried to relax, and smiled at Jefferson.

“It’s a good thing I seek only appropriate reading material for an innocent and fairly stupid woman, then,” she said dryly.

“It’s not as though I would sell you anything else,” he said, pressing a hand to his heart in mock horror. “This is a respectable bookshop.”

“Good,” said Belle seriously. “In that case I want to ask about the books you most definitely are not holding in this shop. In order to ensure - public decency.”

“Public decency has always been a passion of mine, my Lady,” he said gravely. “Tell me of these terrible tomes.”

She felt her lips twitch, but tried to maintain her concerned expression.

“I have heard tales of a sorcerer known as the Dark One,” she said. “No doubt there are books that cover his history, his origins. It would be dreadful if they were to fall into the wrong hands.”

“You won’t find such distasteful books on any of the shelves in this shop,” he said promptly, pointing under the desk and winking at her.

“I’m delighted to hear it.”

“Anything else?”

“I’ve also heard that there are books on magical prisons, and the breaking of curses.”

“A terrible rumour, if true,” he said. “I have no such books for sale.”

He mouthed you can borrow them behind his hand, and she wanted to giggle.

“Thank goodness,” she said. “You’ve put my mind at rest.”

“I should probably check, though,” he added. “Just to make sure. If you return in half an hour, I’ll be able to confirm it.”

“Good.” She hesitated. “While I’m at it, there may be something you could sell to me. Do you have anything on the Blue Fairy? Or on light magic in general? I’m sure there could be no objections to me reading something like that.”

“Let me see what I can dig out,” he said, tipping his hat to her.

“And I suppose I’d better add in something about proper wifely duties, as well,” she said. “That should put Sir Gaston’s mind at ease.”

Jefferson grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“For managing a new estate or for managing a new husband?” he asked, and she sent him a dry look.

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

His grin widened, and he lifted a finger.

“I have just the thing.”

When Belle left the shop, she took a moment to straighten her gloves, irritation with Gaston warring with satisfaction at having obtained more information on the Dark One. So. She was being spied on. No doubt to ensure she was suitable, the picture of a subservient, dutiful wife. The nerve of the man!

“Milady?”

Marcel and Celine had hurried over to her, and Belle nodded curtly, smoothing her features.

“I’ll call back for my books in half an hour, once they have been wrapped,” she said. “The apothecary next, I think.”

She walked swiftly enough that Celine had to trot to keep up, and made the rounds of the shops in less time than she had anticipated, but the exercise helped to ease her anger, and by the time they had left the haberdashery, she was calm again. She slowed the pace as they turned into the street leading back to the bookshop, and Celine sighed in relief, hefting the basket of her purchases.

“Alms for the poor, milady?”

A woman reached out to her with a pleading tone, blonde hair tied back from a face reddened by the sun, and Belle drew to a halt, biting her lip in distress. She imagined the woman had once been plump and pretty, but now looked gaunt and exhausted, her faded dress hanging from her, her hand a claw extended on a thin wrist. Two skinny, big-eyed children watched from the shadows, brother and sister, clutching at one another. The girl had a bracelet on her thin wrist, woven from brightly coloured woollen threads, no doubt scavenged from weavers' scraps. It made a strange contrast to her dirty smock and tangled hair.

“Get out of here, go on!” said Marcel roughly, aiming a kick at the woman, and she shied away. Belle rounded on him.

“Do that again and there will be consequences!” she snapped.

“I’m charged with protecting you, milady,” he said. “You don’t have to deal with these vermin.”

“When I marry your lord, these will be my people!” said Belle, frowning. She turned back to the woman. "What's your name?"

"Gerta, milady."

“And what has brought you to this sad state? Have you no work?”

“Not since the clearances, milady,” she said, eyeing Marcel warily.

“Clearances?”

“We had a strip of land down by the river," said Gerta. "A herd of goats and some vegetable plots. The Lord’s men drove us off two winters gone. Us and all the other smallholders. Beat our men when they protested, killed some. Killed my husband. The fields have gone to barley for the brewers, the goats slaughtered.”

Belle shook her head, and reached into her purse for some money.

“Milady, you shouldn’t—” began Marcel.

“I’ll do as I please with my own coin!” snapped Belle. She pressed some silver into Gerta’s hand, followed by a gold piece. “Here. That should feed and clothe you all for a little while, at least. Once you feel able, come to the castle and ask for me: I'll speak to the steward about finding some work for you."

"Oh thank you, thank you!" Tears pricked the woman's eyes.

"No need to thank me," said Belle. "You shouldn't be in this situation. I shall speak to Sir Gaston about what has happened to you.”

“It won’t do any good,” said Gerta wearily. “But bless your kind heart, milady.”

She clasped Belle’s hand between her own, smiling a little, and slunk away, the children following. Belle noticed that the boy was limping badly, his lower leg twisted and useless as he shuffled along, supported by his sister.

“They’ll probably just spend it on ale, milady,” said Celine.

“They look too hungry to want to bother with the tavern,” said Belle shortly. “Have many families been driven off their lands?”

The servants shrugged, and she clicked her tongue in irritation.

“What provision has been made for their welfare?” she asked. “Are there soup kitchens? Anything?”

“The brewers set up a soup kitchen,” said Celine. “They were told to take it down, because it just encouraged the beggars.”

“Well of course it encouraged them, how would they eat otherwise?” snapped Belle, and shook her head with a sigh. “Still, this is a matter for Sir Gaston, not you. I need to pick up my books, and then we’ll take the carriage home.”

She stomped off, seething with anger. What sort of lord would let his people starve?

Jefferson seemed to catch her mood when she returned, and made no quips as he handed Marcel a pile of books wrapped in paper and tied with string. Belle paid him, smiling slightly to show that her bad mood had not been caused by him. He was far more reserved in front of the servants, and she imagined it was just as well. No doubt an account of their day in town would reach Gaston before long, and she didn’t want Jefferson singled out for any special attention from the steward.

The ride home was subdued, and once the servants had carried the books and other purchases up to Belle’s room, she announced that she had a headache, and would be lying down until it passed. Celine drew the curtains and helped her off with her gown, and Belle lay down with a damp cloth over her eyes. The sound of the door closing softly made her sigh in relief, but she still waited a few minutes before tearing off the damp cloth and sitting up, reaching for the parcel of books. There had to be answers in there somewhere.

Jefferson had wrapped up five books in total, the top one being a very proper treatise on the management of estates from a noblewoman’s perspective. Belle tossed that aside with a curl of her lip, but after a moment, placed it on her nightstand. If Gaston wanted to hear about what she was reading, let him hear about that.

The second book was infamous, and made her blush fiercely and glance around before turning back to it. The Lady’s Boudoir by An Anonymous Gentlewoman of Note was rumoured to be the most complete compendium of detailed intimate relations between husband and wife. Along with illustrations. After suppressing a giggle at the look on Gaston’s face if he were to find such a book in her possession, Belle resolved to hide it somewhere safe until she could take it back to Jefferson. She had already read it, anyway.

The third book had an embossed illustration of a fairy on the cover, wand lifted high with a blue star at its tip. A Study of Fairies and Their Use of Light Magic, read the title page, and Belle pursed her lips thoughtfully and set the book aside on the nightstand before reaching for the next. It was a heavier volume, bound in battered blood-red leather with gilt letters on the spine: First Steps in Curse-Breaking.

She was almost trembling with excitement, eager to open up the book and pore over its contents, but the final book in the paper package had already drawn her eye. It was the slimmest by far, perhaps two hundred pages if that, with a plain black leather binding. Opening it up, Belle ran her eyes over the title page: The Dark One: His Origins and Powers.

Belle clutched the book to her chest, heart thumping, and sent up a prayer to the gods that the information she sought would be contained within. Then she got back onto the bed, wriggling against the pillows to get comfortable, and began to read.

#fic: key to the cell #rumbelle fic #my fic #rumbelle #dark castle rumbelle

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paperclipninja · 5 years

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Younger post-ep ramble 6x04

Well now, we’ve hit a rather interesting point in the season now haven’t we? Can you say DRAH-MAH. This week’s episode, ‘An Inside Glob’, sees the tension that’s been mounting in the first three episodes of season 6 reach boiling point. And then boil over. Into a restaurant full of onlookers. Then onto Reddit. Lol. Now I may be biased because of my love of Miriam Shor (or I am simply an appreciator of good directing when I see it), but this week’s ep was so well put together, it felt like there was ample room for each scene to breathe and the pacing overall felt significantly less frantic than it sometimes does. There was a familiarity, for lack of a better word, about the structure and the feel of this ep, not to mention the writing left me legit laughing out loud many times throughout. The writers are bringing it this season. We also see the welcome return of two faves: Charles’ three-piece suit and Liza’s silver-suit power-tude. Let’s dive on in.

You always know it’s going to be a good ep when it opens with a loft heart-to-heart between Liza and Maggie, but not before Liza meets Maggie’s new boo Beth (with Liza’s ‘ew’ and hand wiping after Maggie tells her they just finished a session equal parts gold and gross). Their whole interaction, from the ‘I promise not to call him Chaz’ (was anyone else hoping she would call him Chaz, because I was HANGING for a Chaz drop at dinner. There’s still time...), to Liza sharing her concerns that Charles is secretly financing a new company and Maggie trying to justify all the coincidences and reassure her, it was just premium bff content. Not to mention a great set-up for the episode and follow on from the last one.

Liza continues to try and allay her suspicions about Charles by getting Kelsey’s view of the funding source after the morning meeting with my new fave power-trio (quick poll: Zane always looking like a dog who just ate your pizza - accurate or nay?) and Diana brings the top quality delivery of one liners right from the get-go as we’re introduced to this week’s author, Bronwyn Madigan (aka, the cash cow whose milk Millennial could use...yes, D. Trout, you did need to say that). Apparently baby boomers like to top off their reading of erotica with a good meatloaf (actual meatloaf, get your minds out of the euphemistic gutter) and that is now two foodstuffs I have a strained relationship with following this ep of Younger. Liza is able to quash her spidey senses re: the Mercury money briefly, as Kelsey reveals she’s been doing some digging and discovered the company is operating out of the financial district, therefore obviously it’s a big media company behind it. Obviously...

Lo and behold Kelsey marches her feisty self down to the Mercury office to confront Zane and weaves through hopeful start-up founders in a co-working space to find him (also, are AirPods a pre-req to land a job at Mercury?). Their entire exchange had a couple of ‘whoa’ moments for me. Exhibit A, when discussing how Zane secured Audrey Colbert’s book:

Kelsey: ‘So you slept with her? God, that is completely unethical. And so creepy”

Zane: ‘But it’s fine when you do it?’

File under: T for TRUTH. Not gonna lie, I almost applauded. I would have filed under H for Hypocrite except the next part of the conversation, in which Kelsey throws the accusation that Zane went after Audrey because he knew she was (and I’m with Zane on this one, she is going to need to learn to suck it up when Millennial loses out on books, our pal Kels is on one steep learning curve), followed with, ‘that book was important to me and you knew it’, goes straight to the H folder. How does Zane know it? Could it be because Kelsey told Zane she was going after Audrey’s book? Even after he told her he had a job, that he was just waiting for everything to line up and considering his history of swooping in and being competitive? While they are not fully comparable situations, I found this a bit rich considering the grief Kelsey gave Liza for discussing business with Charles (I get that was her insecurity and feeling he would interfere), when her discussions with Zane have seemingly led him to going after this book. Which is 100% in character for him btw.

I have been liking a lot of Kelsey’s boss moments this season but this week it certainly felt like she was in way over her head. At her lunch with Lauren, yet another combo I thoroughly enjoy on my screen, we once again see Lauren being the relentlessly supportive friend she always is and educating Kelsey on the dos and don’ts of dating apps (surely Kelsey knew that deleting an app doesn’t delete your profile right??? Putting it down to stress amnesia). Pointing out that putting your job title on your dating profile if it is in any way a potential threat to male ego is a big no-no (’this kind of over-accomplishment only works if you’re trying to pick up women’), Lauren offers up that Kelsey suffers from BDE. Of course we later discover that rather than big dick energy, Kelsey is suffering bald dude energy, confirmed by her alopecia diagnosis. I did so enjoy Kelsey’s dramatic reactions, ‘just keep an eye out ok?’, to the whole ordeal and it certainly added another element to the rising tension.

Cue hilarious conversation with Diana about her own battle with hair loss (not on her head) along with the rest of her ailments (shingles seems to be a running theme this season. Did someone in the writers room have a shingles flair up recently after reading a particularly terrible autobiography or suffer month-specific breakouts aka Diana’s electric tube top? Need to know). Even though it was not making Kelsey feel better necessarily, this was Diana being supportive in her own way and I am just here for it every day of the week. I think what I enjoyed most about the office scenes in this episode, aside from every single line that came out of Diana’s mouth, were the moments that were reminiscent of the old office dynamic. From Diana bleating ‘Liza’ as she enters Liza’s office (still can’t believe that’s a thing) with the idea of advertising erotica on the bike kiosks to the sarcasm when Liza asks ‘Bronwyn’s?’ and Diana responds with ‘no, my own’. We finally get to meet author of ‘The Seasoned Slut’ (loving the guest casting this season btw) who oozes a self-assurance that only serves to emphasise her reason for not re-signing with Millennial: that her problem ‘is with the lack of value placed on experience’. Ugh, I loved this line.

I loved it because it is an absolute reality, especially for women in the workplace, and goes hand in hand with the ageism this show’s entire premise was built upon. I loved it because this show tells us that experience is and should be valued through Zane’s comment in episode one, that Kelsey should not lose Diana as she is the best in the business and Kelsey telling Diana that she values and respects her. And I loved this line because the set-up for this season remains true to the original premise and challenges it at the same time, taking another look at the role age/experience and gender play in success and reinventing yourself. Did I mention I love this show?

Liza’s reaction to the question of ‘where is the grey hair in the room?’ was also noted, a nice reminder that the age-lie is still in play and is never far from the surface. The other thing I loved in the meeting with Bronwyn was Diana’s horror that she a) might be considered the demographic for her books and b) ‘do people think I’m her age?’ I cannot imagine a time I will ever watch this line and not roar with laughter. I also love that that was the main takeaway Diana had from the whole BJ comment this woman just casually dropped in as she exited, you know, as one might mention they know a great bagel place you might enjoy nearby.

Josh’s parenting journey continues to unfold as he gets his first overnight stay with Gemma, but not before experiencing some kind of parental rite of passage and being squirted in the face with breast milk. I know there is a lot of mistrust of Clare out there in the internet but I will keep saying this week after week, I am so enjoying seeing Josh and Clare navigating this modern-day parenting arrangement together. I appreciate Josh’s desire to be there for both Clare and Gemma in any way he can and I appreciate that Clare appears to be open and wanting the same. I am not the biggest fan of baby storylines in general but I tell you what, to see Lauren pacing up and down cradling this little person, I am 100% pro-baby. This is one of my favourite moments of the whole episode and just when I thought there couldn’t possibly be any more layers to Lauren Heller, I get the up-all-night-with-crying-baby Lauren and I simply cannot: ‘I have been up all night with a crying baby. Why? I don’t know, because the rest of you either don’t have ears or you don’t have souls’. Early contender for line of the season. Kelsey’s bag-of-hair inducing scream finally wakes Josh and Lauren’s reaction, for him to ‘get it together man, Kelsey doesn’t need this’, epitomises Lauren’s selfless nature (which I just love as it seems so contradictory to her sometimes self-absorbed tendencies). It was not because she was up all night with his child, it was that Kelsey was in the midst of a crisis that Lauren needed Josh to pull it together and it just reinforces yet again what a multi-dimensional, caring character she is. And yes Josh, you are the dad, not the babysitter (kudos for this Alison Brown) so you may need to learn to sleep a little more lightly or something FYI.

Kelsey’s hair stress continues to play out as she runs into Maggie, who was also hoping to make a covert pharmaceutical purchase and the two wander back to Maggie’s for the scene I have been looking forward to since the possibility of such a scene came into play. I am of course talking about dinner at the loft and the integration of Charles into the friend circle. Kelsey’s freak out seems to be hitting fever pitch as she asks Beth for advice but this is soon interrupted by the arrival of Charles and Liza, who come bearing blackout cake (which I googled and holy chocolate pudding it looks AMAZING) in the most adorbs coupley entrance and don’t mind me, just having a quiet gush over here. Ok, I’m done. While Kelsey is over chatting with her old boss, Beth puts her naturopathy into practice by suggesting Maggie take a more natural approach to treating her yeast infection, doing some seasoning of her own to let a clove of garlic work its magic. Between jalapeno dick and garlic vag, this show loves to make us consider our spices in a whole new light.

This entire dinner party scene was next level, I want to frame a picture of it and put it on my wall because yes. We have casual, relaxed Charles, who is the first to ask if there is garlic bread on the menu (I love so much that he was the first to smell it) and seriously, from this moment, the unfolding of the garlic saga was nothing short of amazing. Kelsey was so amped this whole scene, she’s like a tightly wound ball and it was palpable. Her interjections as she commented that it smells like an everything bagel and agreement about the garlic knot and escargot were just brilliant contrasts to her otherwise increasing intensity. I so adored seeing Kelsey and Charles interacting casually and seeing what this would (ahem, could have) look like. But Kelsey asking Liza if she’d told Charles about Brownyn Madigan...I’m sorry, but how could she WHEN SHE CAN’T TALK ABOUT WORK WITH CHARLES? This bit made my head hurt a bit. Surely Liza in that moment must have been thinking the same (also Liza’s moment of identifying a garlic knot, so so good).

What I love most about this scene is that we have Kelsey’s conversation getting more intense by the minute as she jumps from unloading about the stress of work, to Zane and his new venture, before finally climaxing with her ‘who is it?’ declaration, all the while having zero suspicion that Mercury’s investor is sitting right beside her. Side note: I really like Charles’ comment that he’s sure it is business, not personal re: Zane. I think it’s interesting considering the stereotype that women are too emotional vs. men and I’m curious to see how this plays out this season as Kelsey finds her feet. Meanwhile, Charles is trying to have a nice double date with his gf, while also keeping a secret that is the cause of much of the distress Kelsey is sharing with the table, while Liza takes the opportunity to make Charles squirm by pressing the point about the money for Zane’s venture coming from somewhere. It’s such an intricate web and of course parallel to that is Maggie’s secret vagina garlic that has the whole room assuming some kind of paranormal baking is taking place before Maggie responds to Kelsey’s ‘who is it?’ with, ‘it’s me!’ and it was just too much. My reaction was the same as everyone around the table when Maggie announced the source of the garlicky aroma, what a dinner party (and what a way for Charles to avoid any further scrutiny).

I am so glad that the conversation that needed to happen finally did this week and that was, of course, Liza confronting Charles about his involvement in Mercury. Oy, my heart. It broke a little when Liza gave Charles the opportunity to come clean and he didn’t and she had to ask so directly. It was so good to hear these two talking, like properly talking, and Charles explaining that he had to make choices in order to be with Liza but he never wanted to give up publishing for good was great insight into the journey Charles has been on post-Empirical, especially as we really haven’t been privy to that. I felt for both of them at various stages during the conversation. I do believe Liza understands why Charles would want to reinvent himself but I also understand why she would feel so hurt that he would keep such a huge thing from her (although again, they’d agreed not to talk about work at Liza’s request so *insert shrug emoji here*).

But it does highlight an ongoing issue which I really hope gets properly addressed sometime soon and that is where Liza’s loyalties lie. I think it is unquestionably not ok that Charles set up a rival company while Chairman of the Board of Millennial, for obvious reasons. However, had he told Liza, she would have felt compelled to tell Kelsey, which I have no doubt Charles knows and would expect as she is the publisher, so in not telling Liza he is yes protecting his own interests but also stopping her from being in a compromised position. So while Charles’ secrecy is disappointing, so is Liza’s text to Kelsey the following morning asking to meet before work after Charles asked specifically that she tell no one about him financing Mercury just yet.

This episode comes to a head at Suffolk House in a most spectacular fashion. Hilary Duff really did knock this entire ep out of the water with her acting, I cannot heap enough praise on her for the entire performance. You just knew it was gonna be good when Liza turned up as Kelsey was intercepting Bronwyn in an attempt to convince her that Zane was a bitter ex-employee (not very professional IMO but we won’t focus on that for now), only to discover that Bronwyn didn’t know Zane from a wart on her butt (delightful). She was in fact there to meet...dun-dun-dunnnnn...Charles (shout-out to the three piece suit, always a welcome sight, did not disappoint)! Kelsey was justifiably angry, however the stark contrast in experience and maturity was well and truly on show as she proceeded to express herself very loudly and publicly, despite Charles and Zane suggesting they step outside. Zane clocked the smart phone filming the entire incident and you just knew that Kelsey’s outburst was going to come back to bite her.

Regardless of whether Kelsey was in the right or wrong, she certainly came off worse in the way she handled it. My favourite part of the scene was Liza FINALLY re-awakening that gutsy silver suit wearing power, her turning and telling Bronwyn that Charles called her books matron lit was this season’s manuscript drop. And thank f-ing god. One of the things I’ve always loved about the Liza/ Charles dynamic is that Liza stands up for herself with him when she doesn’t with so many others and she is not afraid to call him out, which has been missing these past couple of eps. So now that that has been restored, I am legit so excited to see how this relationship moves forward.

The ramifications of the restaurant confrontation are of course trending on Reddit by the next morning, and Liza and Diana have the unenviable job of delivering the news that even though Charles was in the wrong for setting up the company the way he did, he has since resigned from the board and a number of authors are making noise about jumping ship to Mercury (I was going to say that I think Kelsey might have preferred it if her eyebrows actually had fallen off in that moment but I feel like that’s probs false).

The fact that Kelsey and Charles are pitted against one another as publishers and Liza and Zane as editors provides the most glorious opportunity to explore the ideas of reputation vs. experience. vs. gender vs. fresh ideas and I am so here for it, so damn excited, and so sure that whatever ends up playing out this season, it will be nothing that I expect. In the meantime I’m going to compile every Diana Trout line from this episode into a ringtone because what workplace wouldn’t want Diana talking about nutcracker’s oesophagus ringing through the open-plan office?

#youngertv #younger tv #ramble #review #6x04 #sutton foster #peter hermann #kelsey peters #diana trout #maggie amato #lauren heller #team charles #younger season 6

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keyofjetwolf · 5 years

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Elisabeth: Kitsch

SO EXCITED TO DO THIS ONE. This didn’t wind up being my favourite song from the musical, but I think it comes a very respectable second. The Interplay between the history and the FEELING of history is so interesting to me, the way that we soften the edges to fit the things we’d rather learn.

Perhaps more than any other, this is Lucheni’s song. He fulfills his usual role, bridging the scenes with the relevant high points, but it’s in this one where I feel he shines brightest. And that’s true, despite the fact that the Takarazuka and Essen versions come at it in very different ways with very different messages. Even with the lighter and less critical spin on the song, this is Takarazuka Lucheni at his cheeky best.

And as for Essen Lucheni, his anger for the aristocracy is perhaps outdone only by how much he hates each and every one of us for buying what they sell.

Both are great versions of the song, particularly in the story that they’re choosing to tell. SO COME LET US EXPLORE

Even just a cursory viewing of the two performances show how dramatically different they are in what they’re telling. The most important information we need to learn is how Hungary is becoming Austria-Hungary with Franz Joseph and Elisabeth as its rulers, so in this, both versions are the same. Both also, in a very broad way, look to strip Elisabeth of her mystique somewhat, but with very different ideas of what that means.

The Takarazuka version is almost entirely focused on Elisabeth’s beauty and her obsession with it. As I’ve been watching the two versions much more closely for these posts, it’s a recurring trend I’ve noticed where the Takarazuka makes changes. The song in the cafe, for example, has the patrons commenting specifically on her waist size and diet. (My guess is that this is a cultural choice meant to highlight something specific about Elisabeth, but I don’t have that perspective to extensively comment on it beyond noting it, and how those changes affect my personal relationship with the songs.)

Elisabeth, Takarazuka Lucheni tells us, has assigned diplomats throughout the world to send her pictures of their stationed country’s most beautiful women.

“She knew well that beauty fades and strength fails.” It’s a great line and probably the most critical the Takarazuka version gets of Elisabeth. Though I have to note that it comes right before discussing how Sophie is still in control in Vienna, and coupled with how Sophie will be shown fading shortly, I wonder if the line isn’t as much commenting on Elisabeth’s strategy against her rival as it is awareness of the expiration date of her own primary weapons. POR QUE NO LOS DOS

We also have this, which is wonderfully cynical and true.

It’s also a brilliant example of how Takarazuka Lucheni delivers that cynicism: slyly, like he’s sharing an in-joke with us. OH THE RICH AND POWERFUL WE SURE KNOW WHAT THEY’RE LIKE DON’T WE THOSE SCAMPS

This entire number in the Takarazuka version is ITSELF a fantastic example of the kitsch it sings about. The ladies are in hilariously overdone “national” costumes that border on offensive. They parade back and forth, representing everything but saying nothing, much like the gesture of Austria “joining” with Hungary. I still can’t decide if I think this was an intentional turn by the creators adapting the musical for Takarazuka, or a delightful side effect, but it’s a spectacle and I enjoy it either way.

The Essen version, though. The Essen version is here to slaughter everyone and it is gloriously full on its shit.

Essen Lucheni comes out swinging and socks you right across the jaw AS YOU WELL DESERVE. Much like Takarazuka Lucheni, he begins by interacting directly with the crowd. He’s not taking photographs though, not capturing the moment, he’s handing out fliers. I don’t know what the cards were, but I hope hope hope they were advertisements for what was on sale in the theater lobby. Either way, in the act of handing something out and the audience members taking it, we’ve become part of the performance. We’re complicit now, we’re willing customers.

Without pause, Lucheni begins. He sings before a dark backdrop, the inside of the cathedral where all the action is taking place. We can’t see, as those gathered at the actual moment would be similarly excluded. BUT WE’RE STILL HERE. We’re near the significance, and that’s good enough. We buy a token, proof that history happened near us, a cheaply made lie that assures us that we mattered.

Lucheni would rather sell us the truth, but we’d never buy it.

The Essen actor for Lucheni is really incredible. He’s not as likable as the Takarazuka actress (WHO AMONG US COULD), but he’s also not trying to be. What he is is darkly funny, devastatingly insightful, and FURIOUS. Even knowing that Lucheni will kill Elisabeth, I spent most of the Takarazuka version actively looking for the point at which he “turns”, a specifically placed marker for the murderer we know he will become. I never found it. OH I SPECULATED A LOT. There was nothing to find, though. It wasn’t seamless so much as it was a switch flipped, and suddenly Lucheni was a sniveling minion keen only to do Death’s bidding.

There’s never a question in the Essen version. I completely believe that if Elisabeth appeared in front of him at any point in the story, he’d shank her again, every single time, with whatever he just happened to have on hand. Nothing but a Playbill? THAT’S FINE I’LL MAKE IT WORK.

But as I said earlier, Lucheni’s rage is wide and deep enough for us all. “Kitsch” is doing several things, but none so much as it’s yelling at humanity past, present, and future, for lifting Elisabeth (and any rich powerful fuck really) to this level of uncritical, adored deification utterly removed from who and what she truly was.

ELISABETH IS STILL ON SOCKS AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE IN THIS THE YEAR OF OUR LORD TWO THOUSAND AND NINETEEN

“People only hear what they want to hear,” Lucheni says in disgust, “and so what remains after some time from beauty and from shit, from dream and reality...”

A quick aside to say how much I love the background lights coming up briefly on Lucheni’s “Kitsch!” cue to reveal all the spectacle we’re not part of. But it’s a glimpse, a tiny taste to entice us to come back next time.

I feel I could keep pulling stuff out of this performance forever, but there are a great many more scenes and songs to go through yet. I’ll leave this here, then, the Essen version of this song. It’s just over three minutes, and even without more context than I’ve given in this post, I think it’s well worth your time to check it out.

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There’s one more thing I feel it’d be disingenuous of me to not comment on, which didn’t quite hit me until partway through this post. I’ve said a few times now, how the Takarazuka version is the same play, but also really not. It goes out of its way to pull a lot of the complexity from Elisabeth as a person and a character, and in overall tone is generally uncritical and much lighter, choosing to primarily become a fairy tale style love story. There are several conversations that can be had in that, about that degree of story alteration, where the line is between history and fiction, how far that line can be bent, and a dozen other topics.

This thought isn’t anywhere near that deep, don’t worry. But I do think it’s extremely interesting how the Takarazuka version of Elisabeth is, in nearly every single way, the "heartfelt, sweet, and sensible” thing Essen Lucheni is furious with us all for doing in “Kitsch”.

And finally, I love how the Essen version includes this moment of intense self-awareness. What a good fucking song.

KITSCH!

#jet wolf watches elisabeth #a novel by jet wolf

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lokilickedme · 7 years

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I gotta tell you guys a funny story. I’m going to put it under the cut because it’s long and also probably not of any interest to anyone who hasn’t sold on eB*y before, but it’s a followup to something I posted back in October and the ending is kinda epic:

Okay, so back sometime around the end of October I posted about a buyer that was giving me trouble. She had filed for a return label to send back something she bought from me, due to the fact that she’d found it cheaper someplace else after she’d paid for mine. Which isn’t allowed - the only valid reason eBay allows for requesting a refund is if the item isn’t as described. Which mine was. So I politely told her her request wasn’t valid and as per eBay’s rules I was under no obligation to let her send it back or issue her a refund.

She fired back a rant telling me that I should read the rules because she was ABSOLUTELY allowed to get a refund for that reason if she wanted to (yes, she did actually use the term “if I want to”). So I pulled up the easily accessible Rules For Buying page, copied and pasted the paragraph where it’s clearly stated that the only situation in which a seller is required to issue a refund is the one situation that ours clearly wasn’t, and sent it to her with a “thank you, have a wonderful weekend” because that should have ended it right there.

She threw an ungodly SHIT.FIT. Told me I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about and she was gonna get me kicked off eBay AND get her money back. Oh and for my information, the “real” reason she actually wanted a refund was because the item wasn’t as described (which is, coincidentally, the rule that I had copied and pasted to her in my previous reply, which she vehemently denied was anywhere in the rules). I laughed hard at that...like, pants pissing hard. She hadn’t even known about that rule until I told her, and then she immediately changed her story to fit it.

BUT - she’d already filed her complaint under the category of “found item cheaper somewhere else”, which in eBay speak = shit out of luck. You can only file once and you can’t change anything once you’ve submitted it. She filed with an invalid reason, the first one they immediately disallow straight across the board - Buyer’s Remorse.

She blew her load in her own damn face.

Cue multiple more emails threatening me, telling me I have no idea what I’m talking about (I’ve been selling there for 20 years this Autumn, she’s been registered for less than 2 years) and insisting that I do what she says and give her her damn money back NOW. I say sorry, but no. But I still have to take some sort of action on the filed complaint, because that’s just how it works (a seller can lose a case that they’re clearly in the right on just by failing to respond to it officially). That plus the nutbag had added more details to her side of the case, stating now that the item wasn’t as described (despite having officially filed it as Found It Cheaper Elsewhere).

So now she’s got two conflicting reasons listed for wanting a refund, but since she filed it under the first one, she’s screwed and there’s no unscrewing her. But still I gotta do something official from my end, I’m just not sure what.

So I called eBay and asked if I should ignore the request or decline it. The rep got the details from me, read all the emails between myself and Nutbag, reviewed the case notes, and came back to the phone LAUGHING HER ASS OFF. Decline it right now, she told me in between choking sobs. So I hit the decline button while the rep tried to get herself under control (and failed, because yeah, Nutbag’s emails were amusingly unhinged and ridiculous as hell) and we chatted for a minute because this was apparently the best thing that had happened to her all day and she was grateful to me for calling. So I ask her what Nutbag can do next. “Absolutely nothing” she assures me. “Block her unless you just really enjoy being harassed, though from the looks of it you were having a great time.”

Yeah, I admit I was :)

But to avoid any more wasted time and energy, I go ahead and block her, meaning she can never contact me again because all of our correspondence has been through the eBay messaging system and she doesn’t have my email address. It also means she can’t bid, buy, or send offers on any of my things ever again. I’m shut of her. Good riddance. Ebay rep assures me that if Nutbag strikes back with negative feedback, all I have to do is call again and they’ll remove it and give her a strike for abuse of the feedback system. Everything is in my favor and there’s absolutely nothing for me to worry about.

Ebay rep thanks me again for the good time and we say goodbye.

I keep an eye on my feedback for a few days, but nothing happens, and after about a week I stop even checking it.

And then about two weeks later I get a notice from PayPal. Nutbag has filed a chargeback on the transaction. She has filed a claim that her credit card was stolen and the purchase wasn’t made by her.

This is conflicting lie #3 on this purchase, and they’re just getting more hilarious as she gets more desperate to win. The big gaping obvious hole in her claim this time? The item was shipped to her home address, addressed to her, and the USPS tracking that PayPal had access to showed it was delivered to her at that address. Why would someone steal her card and make purchases on it, only to have them delivered to her, the card owner?

So I called PayPal and pointed this out. Another rep got the opportunity to laugh their ass off, and laugh he did. I had already called eBay and requested permission to share with PayPal all the correspondence that took place through their system, so the PP guy read it all and just fell apart. He counted the lies and I could all but see him shaking his head in disbelief. And then the big whammy happened, and my faith in the entire universe was completely, unequivocally restored (with the exception of the rock Nutbag lives under).

PP rep informs me that not one penny will be taken from my account, because I’m covered by PP’s insurance and the case OBVIOUSLY is fraudulent...and then he tells me the really good part. Because she filed the chargeback through her credit card company instead of through PP themselves, according to PP policy her account with them would be closed permanently. As in, no more PP for Nutbag. EVER.

I about choke on my tongue. Every crooked thing this woman has done has backfired on her SO EPICALLY that it’s starting to border on unbelievable. It’s like the two bank robbers in Raising Arizona who ended up just breaking back into jail at the end because everything they did blew up in their faces.

So PP rep guy (still laughing) tells me not to worry about anything, there’s nothing I need to do, even if her credit card company goes ahead and grants her the chargeback (which wasn’t likely because PP rep guy was typing notes about the fraud into the claim page as we were speaking) that PP would pay it through their insurance and not a penny of mine would ever be touched. The claim wouldn’t count against me and absolutely nothing was going to happen to me.

But Nutbag was about to get a very upsetting email from PP, and dear god in heaven I wish I could have been there when she got it.

So PP rep guy and I bid each other good day, he thanks me for the funsies, and I spend the rest of the day giggling because omg it feels so good when lying dishonest assholes get what’s coming to them.

She lost, completely and ignominiously, at both eBay AND PayPal (and probably her own bank as well) - and all her frothing at the mouth to get even with me had failed embarrassingly.

So...all of this wrapped up a couple of weeks ago, and earlier tonight it crossed my mind to check my feedback at eBay, because I’d sort of forgotten about Nutbag. Still no bad feedback, which is really surprising based on her previous refusal to back the hell off no matter how many times she was proven wrong. But hey, I’m not complaining, that’s one less phone call I have to make.

And then out of curiosity I click on her ID and look at her purchase list on her feedback page. There’s been no transactions since her run-in with me. Not one. And then I realize...without a PayPal account, her eBay account is basically useless, because a good 99% of all sellers there require PayPal as their only accepted payment method. Some will take credit cards, but after PP reported her attempted fraud to them, they probably canceled her card as well.

Nutbag can’t buy on eBay anymore :D

I kept my hard earned money and my good selling reputation and got a good jolly giggle out of the whole thing. And somewhere in New York, a failed fraud with the worst lying skills in the history of dishonesty is probably still trying to figure out how to get that $18 back from me.

And that’s the story of how I saved the rest of the eBay selling community from ever having to deal with Nutbag. You’re welcome.

#long story #liars always get caught #especially if they're as lousy at it as this lunatic

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hannawilliamson · 4 years

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Virginia - December 2020

In the months leading up to November 2020, I had debated attending graduate school in the state of Wisconsin or Virginia. When it came down to the cost, it was the best decision to stay as an in-state resident for graduate school. I was accepted by George Williams College to start pursuing my Masters in Social Work in January 2021. With no clarity into my next opportunity for a trip out to Virginia I decided to go before starting school in the new year.

Saturday, December 5th

I woke up early and headed to Milwaukee for my flight to visit Jenna & Bradley in Virginia. I landed around 10AM. Bradley picked me up and had planned our first stop at a coffee shop, Cafe Amouri (https://www.caffeamouri.com/) in Vienna, Virginia. Bradley ordered the Pumpkin Spice Latte and I ordered the Gingerbread Latte, both were incredible options. I would make sure to stop at this location again when in the area. I felt they did a great job managing ordering and contactless pickup during the COVID pandemic. Bradley and I caught up while Jenna completed her sleep after an overnight shift. When Jenna awoke we headed out for lunch and a full day ahead.

I have a soft spot for Bartaco (https://bartaco.com/location/reston/) since it was one of my highlight restaurants the first time I came out to Virginia. If you know me well you know I am in a constant state of craving mexican food and elote corn. We ordered Guac, Street Corn and a variety of tacos. I decided I am not a fan of the Crispy Oyster Taco that Bradley is fond of, but I am down for the Glazed Pork Belly Taco any day!

Jenna drove us to Amphora Bakery (https://amphorabakery.com/) where we were able to see the treat artists at work in the back room. Bradley picked up some delicious decorative sugar cookies and I selected a magic bar. I decided that in the future the sugar cookies are most definitely the best way to go!

In an attempt to stay local for the early afternoon we stopped for a wine flight at Fleetwood Farm Winery (https://fleetwoodfarmwinery.com/). Bradley and I enjoyed the variety as many of them were dry. Jenna passed up on several as she prefers the sweeter side of wine. Several other guest were ordering the pizza to pair with their wine, so that may be a good try for a future visit.

As a tradition I requested that we snag up a treat from Mama's Apple Pie (https://www.momsapplepieco.com/) in Leesburg, Virginia. I selected the Boston Cream which was good but nothing can compare the outstanding fruit pie varieties that are offered at each of their locations.

Next we headed farther from home to Bluemont Winery (https://www.bluemontvineyard.com/) as Bradley had seen online they had a field of Christmas lights after sunset. Upon our arrival we found the venue overpacked for our comfort during the pandemic and it was cold enough we weren’t fond of sitting outside without heaters. We picked ourselves up and headed across the street to Henway Hard Cider (https://greatcountryfarms.com/henway-hard-cider/), a new location since I last visited. Upon arrival we witnessed a snowman on an island in their man made pond, as we neared the entry to the building we were able to chat with the chickens they house there. During our visit we enjoyed some cider, sliders and a cookie tray. It was an open building and great to check out for the first time. As the sun began to set we headed back over to Bluemont Vineyard where they had Christmas lights strung throughout the vines. It was stunning as we took the view from the bottom, driving on the curvy road to the top and got to look down on them as they spread over the hillside. Bradley made a great call in recommending we go out to see them. We had so much fun taking photos and videos, laughing at ourselves the entire time. Before heading out of town we stopped at Bluemont General Store (http://www.bluemontstore.com/) in which we were able to pick up some true molasses for our gingerbread cookies to come. We arrived home exhausted after a long day of travel and adventure, and went straight to bed.

Sunday, December 6th

Sunday was a monumental day, as Jenna woke up and cooked me breakfast all before 10. It consisted of Trader Joe’s hash browns, JUST eggs, Kite Hill chive dip and Wegmans Sausage. If any of you want a killer breakfast this is all the ingredients that you need!

Our next stop of the day was the local farmer’s market, as ya know you’re girl cannot pass up a morning farmers market. We picked up Twin Oats (https://twinoats.com/) oat bites sampler pack. I do have to say my all-time favorite is the White Chocolate Cinnamon Roll, but the Vanilla is good too. Can I say that the owner of this sweet shop is so kind as well. Jenna was a familiar face but without hesitation she welcomed me in sharing all that she had to offer. If you have a local farmers market I encourage you to go, spend your money here, and socialize with others in your community. Let’s connect together as humans!

We scooped up Bradley from home and headed to Eugene’s Sausage & Fries (https://eatateugenes.com/). I cannot rave enough about how accommodating the staff was with a dairy free, gluten free and egg free diet. Each member of the team was professional and took the allergens seriously. Please understand that a majority of locations we encountered throughout our trip did not take the time to double check their ingredients or consult with the chef to ensure that the allergens were not present within the food. I could write a stellar review about Eugene’s day after day for the great service they provided us during our visit. Our order consisted of Truffle Fries, El Diablo Sausage, Elote Fries, Southern Dog and my pitiful lamb blueberry infused sausage. I would highly recommend ordering the Truffle Fries at every visit with the parmesan on the side and the el diablo sausage. I would pass on the lamb sausage which is no longer listed on the menu, likely for good reason.

Our following location was Aroma Wine Tasting Room (https://moraisvineyards.com/aroma-wine-tasting/) where we obtained flight trees and Jenna was in heaven with the opportunity to fill hers with almost all dessert wines. It was a quaint location with incredible staff, we spent much of the afternoon sipping our wine away. I must add too that the women’s restroom at this location is huge allowing you the opportunity to run in circles, which as expected Jenna could not pass up.

Cookies & Cream Ice Cream (https://www.cookiesandcreamshop.com/) was a phenomenal follow up location of choice for those of you who eat dairy, I would recommend passing on the sorbet. I ordered the Campfire S’mores ice cream and I can tell you it is worth the drive out to Haymarket! I would order it again and again for the rest of my days if I could.

Bradley had other adventures to attend to, so Jenna and I went rogue for the rest of the evening. Starting out at Gray Ghost Winery (https://grayghostvineyards.com/) we completed a wine tasting at the counter allowing us the opportunity to hear the history of the grounds and story behind the name. We ended our visit by touring the wine cork gallery that has been set up for the holiday season. Jenna ended up purchasing a bottle of dessert wine and I took a sweet white home for us to share with our mother over the holiday season.

In Virginia there is this small little building that was placed on earth by God, called the Cheesecake Heaven Drive Thru (https://www.facebook.com/WarrentonCheesecake/) and by God is it good. I had the Original Cheesecake which was outstanding! I promise you, you won’t go wrong by picking out any one of these options. I truly suggest that you pick more than one, if you’re having a hard time deciding just be assured that the Lord only wants what is best for you and that may mean you have to pick out all your favorites.

YOU GUYS! I can not help but crack up each time I think of our experience at Bull Run Winery (https://www.wineryatbullrun.com/). As Jenna and I were walking in from the parking lot I was on the phone with our father. Jenna hops up the smallest curb and next thing I know she is on the ground, pauses a second on her back, rolls managing to get herself up in one swift motion all while picking up the contents that dumped out of her jacket pockets onto the concrete. Jenna starts halling ass up this huge hill to the entrance. I am laughing so hard I can’t speak to inform my concerned father of what occurred while at the same time I am out of breath trying to keep up with her. It is one of my favorite Jenna moments, and to this day I can’t help but laugh when the memory of this event crosses my mind. At the top of the hill as I confronted Jenna on the events that just occurred she acted as if no fall had occurred. Once I calmed my laughter we walked further into the ground of Bull Run to find a tent with heaters to drink under, a wine bar and outdoor live music. Jenna and I each grabbed a glass, found a location near a heater and it was then Jenna admitted to her fall for the first time. Jenna and I chatted and sipped on our wines while we listened to the horrific singing coming from the stage beside us.

We stopped at the Dolce Amore Peruvian Bakery (http://www.dolceamoresweets.com/) before picking up dinner and heading home. We ordered the Tres Leches, Mini Alfajor Box and a Caramel Horn. If you enjoy caramel and shortbread cookies the Mini Alfajor Box is a must have item. The employees were sweet in providing the correct pronunciation of the items after I asked for assistance. I would recommend making a stop here if you’re local.

Jenna and I picked up Ford’s Fish Shack (https://fordsfishshack.com/locations/ashburn/) to-go before heading home to eat dinner with Bradley. I had requested crab legs before my visit to town so Jenna ensured they were on our order. Bradley and I both enjoyed Connecticut Style Lobster Rolls and fries while Jenna tried out the scallops. I have a sick obsession with their skinny fries at all Ford’s locations, which topped off my entire day. After we filled our stomachs and caught up on our daily adventure, we headed off to bed for another fun-filled day.

Monday, December 7th

Our morning started off at Petite Loulou Creperie (https://www.lapetiteloulou.com/) in Purcellville, Virginia. Jenna ordered a Sugar Plum Mimosa with her Local Honey and Almond Crepe. Bradley ordered an oat milk latte with his Chicken Cordon Bleu Crêpe. I completed my order with the Prosciutto, Goat Cheese, & Fig Jam Crepe. If you know me any item with prosciutto, goat cheese and/or balsamic glaze is a must order item.

Our next spot on the way home was a coffee shop called Dolce & Ciabatta (https://dolceciabatta.com/) where I ordered my morning coffee and an eclair that I would come to love for the rest of eternity.

Jenna and I headed out in the afternoon to SideBar (https://www.sidebarlbg.com/eats) in Leesburg to test out their happy hours for our first time. We spent hours this afternoon eating, drinking and chatting away. I have to say this is a memory that I will treasure, it was so good to visit with my sister one on one as grown adult women, an opportunity I don’t believe we truly ever had before. Jenna and I enjoyed the General Tso’s Cauliflower, Maple Sriracha Wings, SideBar Fries and Calamari. If you haven’t been to SideBar Happy Hour you’re truly missing out! GO NOW!

After our afternoon dining experience I forced Jenna to take me to all the local TJ Maxx locations. We explored around hitting up Nothing Bundt Cakes (https://www.nothingbundtcakes.com/) before heading home. I ordered the White Chocolate Raspberry, my all time favorite.

Prior to my arrival Bradley had planned several activities for us to enjoy in the evening one of which was building gingerbread houses and activities I had never participated in before. We had such a great time sitting around the coffee table as a family decorating our houses throughout the rest of night. I strove to one up them by adding a stained glass window in my house by using my phone’s flashlight and a half eaten gumdrop. Can you tell I am still impressed with my artistic abilities?

Tuesday, December 8th

Again I forced Jenna to rise from her slumber and make me the very requested repeat breakfast from a few days prior. I am telling you, it is good! We headed out shortly thereafter for a wine tasting at Cooper’s Hawk (https://chwinery.com/). I enjoyed this opportunity as I had heard Jenna and Bradley rave about the wine and educational experience since moving out to Virginia.

As we were still full from breakfast we headed out to Mt. Defiance Cidery & Distillery (https://mtdefiance.com/). We were given the opportunity to order glasses of wine, due to the pandemic flights being unavailable. The cider pours were generous and tasted great. Bradley had a good cracking up session by himself at our table for still an unknown reason. We chatted here for sometime in this beautiful building before heading out. I did purchase a bottle of the Blueberry Cider and Jenna picked up some local mustard and jams they had for sale. We popped in and out of shops in Gainesville before heading to dinner.

After much debate we enjoyed our dinner at Out of the Blue (https://www.outoftheblue.restaurant/). We enjoyed our shared order of calamari and shrimp. Bradley enjoyed his oysters. I was not a fan of the lobster roll bringing me to the realization I only appreciate a lobster roll if it is Connecticut style. Jenna ate scallops that we subpar for the pricing. We hit up another TJ Maxx on our way back toward home. After a dissatisfied dinner we snug a late night treat in at SideBar ordering some calamari that we shared together in the local parking garage. It was a simple but memorable experience together. I ordered some maple sriracha wings to dive into late at night since I was heading out of town the next day.

Upon our arrival home Bradley got to work on the gingerbread cookies. As a family we spent the rest of the evening around the coffee table decorating and watching Christmas movies.

Wednesday, December 9th

Once we rolled out of bed in the morning we enjoyed a simple breakfast with coffee at home. Around the noon hour Jenna made me homemade gluten free breaded pickles which were incredible. I ordered Pho-Nomenal (https://www.phonomenalashburn.com/menus) for lunch to arrive at the house. I ordered several types of Summer Rolls which came with an outstanding peanut sauce. We also ordered 4 Sisters Asian Snack Bar (https://www.foursisterssnackbar.com/) boba drinks as a last treat before I packed up my belongings and headed to the airport.

In the evening I landed safely back home in Chicago where I was greeted by my parents. Thank you Virginia for another amazing stay. I look forward to spending time outside at the wineries during a summer visit in the future.

#virginia #unitedstates #travel #visitfam #winery #cidery #foodieblogs

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revwinchester · 7 years

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It’s My Life

Summary: Canon!Verse fic about what life was like for Sam during the time between when he was admitted to Stanford and when he left for school.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester, Bobby Singer

Word Count: 2340 (including lyrics)

Warnings: Cursing, Angst

A/N: This was inspired by the Bon Jovi song “It’s My Life” and written for @d-s-winchester’s 4K celebration/Bon Jovi Challenge. I had been thinking about a fic focusing on this time in Sam’s life and then this challenge came up and I felt like the song just framed it perfectly.

It’s My Life -

“Sammy!”

Sam winced at the nickname but it was Dad, there wasn’t much he could do about it besides respond. He turned to face his father where he stood in the motel doorway, his phone in hand. “Yeah Dad?”

“Bobby wants to talk to you,” his dad replied.

Sam hopped up off the bed he had been sitting on, placing his book carefully on the nightstand. It was an old book, somewhat fragile, and one he had borrowed from Pastor Jim. He wanted to return it to him in the same condition in which it had been loaned.

Sam crossed the room, grabbing a key from the table as he passed and took his dad’s phone before stepping outside into the cool evening air.

“Don’t wander far, son,” his dad commanded.

Sam nodded as he brought the phone to his ear, the door shutting behind him. “Hey Bobby, what’s up?” Sam asked.

“There’s an envelope came in the mail for you, Sam,” Bobby told him and Sam held his breath.

The older man’s voice was rough and Sam couldn’t detect any kind of emotion from the man. For all Sam knew, Bobby had already told his dad this news and Sam would be in for a shouting match once he went back into the motel room.

“It’s a pretty big one, thick,” Bobby was saying and Sam started to let himself get excited; those were good adjectives to hear. “It’s from Stanford University. Why would Stanford University be sending you mail at my place?” He asked Sam, but the boy could tell that Bobby already knew that answer.

“Open it for me, Bobby,” Sam replied quickly, not wanting his dad or brother to come out side looking for him before he knew for sure, “please.”

Sam waited, listening to the muffled sounds of Bobby shifting the phone so he could use both hands to open the envelope. He heard paper tear and then the shuffle of pages as Bobby worked his way through the envelope, all while Sam tried to restrain himself from rushing the man. Finally Bobby’s voice sounded through the phone again.

“Dear Samuel,” Bobby read. “Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that I offer you admission to the Stanford University Class of 2006…”

Bobby was still reading but Sam didn’t hear much of it after that. He had done it; he’d gotten into college. He’d gotten into an Ivy League college. He could get out of the hunting life and start fresh, lead a safe, normal life as a lawyer - still helping people but not putting his ass on the line to do it. Maybe he’d even meet a girl, get married, have kids, and assure them there are no monsters in their closet rather than gifting them with a handgun for under their pillow.

“You still with me Sam?” Bobby asked, pulling the boy from his thoughts.

“What, uh, yeah. Yeah, I‘m still here, Bobby,” Sam replied, reality flooding back in. He had applied to Stanford on a whim. Even after getting accepted, he could never afford to attend the school.

As if he was reading Sam’s mind, Bobby shuffled through the pages again. “One of these papers says they’re offering you a full academic scholarship,” he told Sam, his voice still gruff and straightforward.

“Holy shit,” Sam whispered and Bobby let out a soft chuckle. It was really going to happen, or it could happen if that was really what Sam wanted. “Did… did you tell my dad?” he asked Bobby, his voice quiet. It wasn’t a conversation that Sam was looking forward to having. His dad had already told Sam more than once that he should give up on his dream of college and embrace the life of a hunter. Bobby, on the other hand, had been the one to play catch with Sam, the one who had taught him how to cook a few things, the one who had quizzed him on history and math instead of on supernatural lore. That was why he had used Bobby’s address to apply to Stanford. Well, that and the fact that Bobby didn’t move from one cheap motel to the next.

“I didn’t,” Bobby responded solemnly. “That’s your story to tell, Sam.”

Sam nodded wordlessly, knowing that Bobby couldn’t see him.

“And it’s a story I’d tell sooner rather than later. Secrets don’t do any good in any kind of life but especially in our line of work.”

Sam nodded again, this time forcing out a “Yeah, Bobby. And thanks.” He started walking back toward the motel room saying his goodbyes to the older hunter. Just as he was about to hang up and enter the room again, Bobby stopped him.

“And Sam?”

“Yeah, Bobby?”

“I’m proud of you, boy.”

Bobby didn’t wait for a response, hanging up as soon as the words had left his mouth.

This ain't a song for the broken-hearted No silent prayer for the faith-departed I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd You're gonna hear my voice When I shout it out loud

Sam was riding in his usual seat in the Impala. His dad was driving and Dean was riding shotgun while Sam was sprawled out in the back seat, his nose buried in the required summer reading book that would be discussed during Stanford’s freshman orientation.

Bobby had read through the entire packet that Stanford had sent Sam and gifted the youngest Winchester the book the last time John and the boys were in South Dakota. Sam had read through the papers at least three times on the first night of that visit, the admission letter even more often. He waited until everyone was asleep on the second night and then filled out the paperwork that needed to get sent back to the university. He still hadn’t told his dad or brother about his plan to attend college; he had wanted to live in the happiness and excitement of the moment for as long as possible and he knew Dean and his dad were going to be pissed.

Now, though… Now that Sam’s commitment letter and financial aid and scholarship forms were in the hands of the United States Postal Service and on their way to California, he knew he needed to share the news. Sam took a deep breath a, steeling himself, before looking up from his book. He cleared his throat and forced his body to relax.

“I’m going to college. This fall.”

The car was quiet apart from Sam’s voice and the hum of the engine. Dean’s body had stiffened at Sam’s words and the youngest Winchester knew his brother wanted to say something but Dean was looking to their father for example, following his lead. John Winchester gave no indication that he had even heard his younger son’s words and, as the silence grew longer and more uncomfortable, Sam filled it with a babbling explanation.

“So, uh, yeah. I applied last fall. I had saved up some money and took the SAT when we were at Bobby’s for a month in September,” Sam said, filling the void. “I got a 1583, almost a perfect score, and so I looked at a couple of applications but I could really only afford one application fee so I picked one of the schools and sent in my application.”

Sam knew he was rambling but his dad still wasn’t responding and he couldn’t make his mouth stop.

“So I got in. To… to Stanford. It’s a really good school, just as good as Ivy League. They, um, they’re in California. So, I’m going to move out there in August. I’m studying pre-law; I want to be a lawyer. I want to help people, still but not... not like this. So I’m going to Stanford this fall.”

Sam finally forced himself to stop talking and the silence in the car was deafening. Finally, John spoke.

“No, you’re not.”

Sam watched as his dad reached over and turned on the radio, flipping through stations until he found something that wasn’t mostly static. Sam wrinkled his nose but bit his tongue as the country music filled the Impala.

The conversation was over before it had even really began but this wasn’t the first time that Sam and his dad hadn’t seen eye to eye and the boy knew that a shouting match was still to come. John would raise his voice and tell him he couldn’t afford school and Sam would yell back at his dad, telling him about the scholarship his grades and SAT scores had earned. Sam knew his dad would eventually shout something about family being the most important thing, how he was doing all of this for them. The yelling would continue between them until one of them stormed out of the room.

This is for the ones who stood their ground It's for Tommy and Gina who never backed down Tomorrow's getting harder, make no mistake Luck ain't enough You've got to make your own breaks

The fight had happened, just as Sam had expected. Sam had been the one to leave, which hadn’t particularly been a surprise. It was a rainy night with thunder booming overhead so all three of the men were trapped inside of their motel room. Sam was finishing up the summer reading assignment and Sam had answered carelessly when Dean had asked him what he was working on.

“I thought this matter was settled,” John had said.

“It is, sir,” Sam replied, his voice as cold as he dared to make it, “I’m going to Stanford in the fall.”

That was when the shouting had begun.

In the end, his dad had brought up his mother’s death, like he so often did when he fought with his younger son, and Sam had seen red. He was tired of a woman of whom he had no real memory haunting his every step, like it was somehow his fault that his mom had died that night. “You really think this is the life she would have wanted for us?” Sam had seethed before he wrenched the door open and walked out into the night, taking refuge from the storm in the Impala.

It was clear that his dad once again had decided that they were done with this “fantasy,” as he had called it so Sam was extra quiet and careful about his college preparations. He knew he would need to purchase most of his dorm supplies once he arrived in California so he saved what little he could, making lists and budgets, researching where he could shop once he moved, and hustling a couple of extra games of darts or pool to pad his pockets when he didn’t think Dean was paying attention.

About a month into this new pattern, Dean pulled Sam aside while their dad was on a case.

“What are you doing, Sam?” his brother asked.

Sam didn’t want another fight so he decided to play dumb, telling Dean that he didn’t know what his brother was talking about.

“Cut the shit, Sammy, I’m not blind,” Dean snapped but then his voice grew quiet. “You’re still planning on leaving.” He was fighting to keep the sadness out of his voice but Sam knew his brother better than anyone and he could hear it. “Just, don’t, ok? Don’t leave.” The ‘me’ was left unspoken but Sam heard it all the same.

Sam already knew that leaving his brother behind was going to be the hardest part of this whole endeavor. Dean had practically raised Sam from the time he was an infant and part of him had hoped that Dean might take this opportunity to get out, too; maybe settle down with a nice girl and live a safe life. He had known that hope was a long shot but he still couldn’t stop it from invading from time to time.

But this, this unspoken plea… It was more than Sam had bargained for and he almost agreed, almost gave it all up for his brother. He was about to do it - agree to stay - when their dad stomped through the door. It must have been a rough hunt because John was drunk; usually that meant more people had died before their dad could catch the monster. The sight alone was enough to remind Sam of everything he hated about the hunting life and as his father crashed face first onto one of the motel beds, Sam’s resolve only strengthened.

You better stand tall when they're calling you out Don't bend, don't break, baby, don't back down

“If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back.”

His dad’s words stung but Sam couldn’t give up now. His dream was in reach; a normal life was so close he could practically taste it. Sam looked his dad in the eye, resenting the man for the life he had been raised to lead and for every potential home and friend that had been taken away from him, but mostly for forcing him to make this choice between his future and his family.

Sam’s eyes slid over his dad’s shoulder to where Dean was standing. He tried to hold his brother’s gaze, to communicate a silent good bye, but Dean’s eyes fell to the ground.

Sam pursed his lips and nodded curtly. ‘So, that’s how it’s going to be, then,’ Sam thought to himself. He squared his shoulders and fished his cell phone out of his pocket before tossing it onto the table in the motel room’s kitchenette. Sam’s eyes flicked towards Dean one more time before meeting his dad’s glare.

“Thanks for all your support,” Sam deadpanned.

With those words, Sam turned on his heel and walked through the door.

It's my life And it's now or never I ain't gonna live forever I just want to live while I'm alive It's my life My heart is like an open highway Like Frankie said I did it my way I just want to live while I'm alive It's my life

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ALL THE TAGS! (forevers): @deathtonormalcy56 @supernaturalyobsessed @roxy-davenport @sumara62 @ginamsmith @gallifreyansass

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Sam Tags from @mrswhozeewhatsis: @mrswhozeewhatsis @vintagevalentinexx @thinkwritexpress-official @blushingsamgirl @bowtiesandapplepie @itsemmyb @ezauraemmaline @matteson-crazed @castielspahdehrah @beriala @charliesbackbitches @crzcorgi @ellen-reincarnated1967 @gryffindorable713 @deandoesthingstome @deerlululucy @walkingencyclopediaoffandom @mrsjohnsmith @manawhaat @growleytria @thegleegeneration @samtomydeanwinchester @SinceriouslyAmellPadalecki @i-never-said-a-pilot @thewinchestielboys @supermoonpanda @sis-tafics @amaranthinecastiel @fandommaniacx @meganwinchester1999 @kittenofdoomage @samanddeanwinchester67 @prettyxwickedxthings @ferferelli @lilyoflothlorien @myfand0msandm0re @olitzisbae @iridianuniverse @the-morning-star-falls @shortandlongstories @strange-inhumanity @ackleslaugh @noisilyyoungpuppy @fangirling-instead-of-working @hellbentcrowley @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @roxy-davenport @chrisatplay @kayteonline @spnsimpleman @faith-in-dean @kreborn17 @mamaimpala @for-the-love-of-dean @winchesterfiesta @zanthiasplace @sleep-silent-angel @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @trenchcoats-and-bees @curliesallovertheplace @jencharlan @not-so-natural-spn @skybinx-blog @thebunkerismyhome @feelmyroarrrr @winchesters-princess @beachy2014 @fandom-book-nerd @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @tia58 @sams-little-toy @deansleather @sunriserose1023 @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @jotink78 @everyday-supernatural-af @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @supernatural-jackles @babypieandwhiskey @mysaintsasinner @chelsea-winchester @spn-fan-girl-173 @wheresthekillswitch @shelovesallthethings @iamreadinginsecret @klaineaholic @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @supernaturalismalife @pinknerdpanda @inmysparetime0 @hexparker

#bon jovi challenge #ash hits 4k #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #gen!fic #Sam Winchester #stanford!sam #dean winchester #john winchester #bobby singer #high school sam #canon!verse #spn angst #fics by Rev

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airoasis · 5 years

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The Ultimate Candlestick Patterns Trading Course

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/the-ultimate-candlestick-patterns-trading-course-2/

The Ultimate Candlestick Patterns Trading Course

Hello hi there what’s up my buddy so welcome to the ideal candlestick pattern trading charges correct on this course right you’ll be able to learn the right way to identify excessive probability trading setups so that you can profit in boo and bear markets now some of you perhaps pondering correct i’m new to trading right would this help me I haven’t any proposal about candlestick patterns I don’t know technical evaluation do not fear right given that on this course right i’ll stroll you via step-by-step from A to Z right on how you can treat candlestick patterns although you haven’t any buying and selling expertise and via the tip of this session right i will assure you that you will be equipped to deal with candlestick patterns like a professional sounds excellent then let’s begin so now the first thing correct to get started is what’s a candlestick sample ok so a candlestick sample is nearly a procedure right of studying a fee chart it originated again in Japan right that’s the history and the important thing aspect of a candlestick chart is that it suggests you four matters it shows you the opening rate the price the excessive of the session the low of the session and the closing rate okay so after I use the time period session or it might probably imply different things proper if you are watching at Candlestick charts on a daily timeframe it way the excessive of the day if you are watching at Candlestick charts on the one-hour time frame it means the high of the one-hour session okay so it will possibly imply distinctive matters depending on the timeframe you’re looking at we will cover that in more details later so now how do you read a candlestick sample or how do you read a candlestick chart so recollect there are simplest four things the open the excessive the low and the close so looking at this proper you’ll discover that the candles are typically traditionally two colors either you understand inexperienced red or probably may also be black white proper normally that you may even no change the colour if you wish to have but typically probably the most long-established color is green and purple so while you see a green candlestick sample right it means that the fee has closed higher for the session so you’ll find that this is the opening fee at this this line over here this is the outlet fee that is the closing fee and while you see this black shadow over here we call this a wick right that is the higher wick this is the best possible of the session and this over right here is the lows of the session all proper this at this point over here so likewise right however the price Calabar the bearish bar the open is on the opposite facet the open now could be on prime proper over right here the open and the shut is at a bottom and the lowest of the session is right here over right here and the absolute best of the session is here so the major change between a bearish bar and a bullish bar is that the open and closed already reverse aspect for a bullish bar it manner the costs closed larger for the session the open is consistently beneath the closed for a bearish bar it implies that the fee has closed scale down for the session and the open must be above the closed ok so now let’s attempt to comprehend understand this candlestick patterns in more depth so first thing proper you’ll be able to notice that’s that candlestick patterns there are two important aspect to it proper one is what we call the physique this portion here is the physique proper in this green area and this black shadow thing is what we call the wick proper so the body traditionally tells you correct who’s in manipulate so in this case you’ll discover that the purchaser is the opening costs over right here and the patrons push cost up all the manner up larger and eventually closing on this highs of the session nevertheless that you can forget about this a shadow as good on account that what it’s telling you is that there’s fee rejection there may be you understand rejection of better prices due to the fact for those who think about this right this used to be once the best of the session so what this tells you is that at one factor in time the marketers without a doubt pushed a fee from this highs down scale down correct except it price closed over here all right unless it closed over here so in the event you think about this right this is truly a type of rate rejection correct rejection of higher prices so there are two components to a candlestick sample the body and the week the third factor that i would like you to grasp is this proper where did the or alternatively what’s the size of the physique relative to the week for the reason that you’ll find over right here once more you could have just a wick and the physique however this time around the message is completely unique correct in case you appear at this candlestick pattern over here it indicates that sure the fee did close higher the cost open right here at this level and it closed over right here correct is the shut this is the open nevertheless in case you appear on the week detect the fee rejection on the grounds that at one factor in time proper the absolute best of the session is over right here at this point and the only manner for the fee to truely shut at this stage is that a rate proper has to come back all the method down from the highs after which subsequently closing and this this level so what does this tell you it tells you that yes correct the bias did push the fee up reasonably better for the session but there was once an great quantity of selling stress a powerful cost rejection right that certainly pushed the fee minimize during the session so you’ll discover that over here this is not a very bullish pattern correctly it is relatively bearish as it indicates you that the mammoth selling pressure by way of the retailers okay so you additionally need you to pay concentration to genuinely these three things quantity one is the body number two is the week and number three is the body relative to the week correct the scale of the body relative to the week almost always if the wick is much longer than the physique it is a signal of price rejection k so it is a how you read candlestick patterns simply three add-ons the physique the wick and the physique relative to the wick so moving on right let’s look at a couple of editions right to Candlestick patterns so the primary one I believe is whatever that you are ordinarily you recognize acquainted with the cost truely opened here open then it closed that is the highs that is the lows of the session it is a nearer I speedily see then in terms of the which means at the back of it you can see it can be particularly straight forward the fee open near the lows it tried to arrive come down slash however rejected then you definitely ultimately shut close the highs at one factor in time I was once certainly at this level over right here which means the buys approach this level at one factor in time and the dealers came in push cost moderately scale down and finally closing near the high so it can be a sign of strength how about this candle you can find that a fee open here and it closed over right here so when the market simply opened proper in all probability what happened is that a price came down cut back the dealers had been in control then a bias to charge and push push press the entire manner again up greater again toward this heist and then ultimately the retailers got here again in him and the market closed at this price degree so in general the meaning in the back of me is that there’s you recognize indecision within the markets both buyers and dealers are present proper and the Mucky just inched quite up bigger so if you happen to question me most of the time that is what we call an indecision sample and for those who seem at this final candlestick sample try the cost open right here market came down all the manner down minimize marketers are in control then the bias took charge and reverse again and subsequently closing close the highs so the that means of this pattern is rejection of reduce costs the shoppers are obviously in control ok moving on correct simply the reverse variation this one I suppose I don’t need as a lot to go via it is simply the opposite to what we have just shared prior okay this is rather that that is the promoting version of it so now let’s do a rapid recap shall we a candlestick chatter it shows you who’s in manipulate all right recall I mentioned pay concentration to the body the wig and the body relative to the week that’s primary as good right when you consider that if you can have a bullish shut button if you’re wick is for much longer than the physique right it can be still a signal of rate rejection okay so relocating on candlesticks on unique time frames so earlier proper if you don’t forget I say that candlestick chart can appear on one of a kind time frames everyday one-hour whatever and if you happen to seem at this correct this is a candlestick chart on the 16 minutes time period correct which is the one hour so you’ll find that this means that every hour considered one of this bar will likely be painted proper every hour this bar be painted one hour despise painted one hour later this bar is painted one hour later this bar is painter so a bar is printed on the reveal every person hour and if you appear at this one over here that is the daily period of time ok see this over right here one sorry 1d proper way everyday proper because of this every single bar is printed after a day so here’s a Monday there will be a bar Tuesday there’s one bar Wednesday there’s one bar and and many others so that is how candlestick patterns right can type on the exceptional time frames so now on walk you by means of some thing what we call combining candlestick patterns considering the fact that candlestick patterns they are almost simply show you the rate of the unique sessions and should you believe about this right this can also be combined right for instance let me share with you proper if you happen to appear at this I simply imagined and let’s assume this is a one hour candle right the green one is one hour fee one is one hour so now when you mix these two candlestick pattern this one over right here Oh what time period is this candle gonna be well one hour plus one hour this might be a two hour kendo all correct and how did this to our candle happen quite simple right a two hour candle effortlessly manner correct it I did not if I used to be the excessive over the last two hours what’s the low over the final two hours the hole cost of the primary hour and a closing price right at the second hour easy so if you happen to appear at this correct this is well-nigh the open this is the closed that is the very best let’s name the H and this is the lows correct let’s name it L so you’ll find that where did we get the open from we get the open from the first candle when you consider that that is the first candle the first hour of the two hours so that is the open so this is the reason we’ve the open over right here now where is the high the excessive is simply the very best point between these two candles so on this case the highs between these two candles is usually the same so this is the best possible what about the lows the loss is very nearly the lowest point between these two candles between these two one-hour candles and the scale back the low is actually this over right here which obtained this dis and where is the close good the close is well-nigh the shut of the 2d candle which is this one over right here this candle shut at this fee degree and that is why you acquired this close so while you mix these two candles this one plus this one you gotta get this bearish watching rate rejection to your chart does it make feel k let’s seem at some real examples so for those who seem at this chat correct this is the chart of the one hour time frame k simply pay attention i want you to pay attention to this two areas correct these two candle this one this one and this one this one in short visualized on your head correct at hiya shall we say i’m gonna transfer to a two hour time frame right now how will these patterns change so let me provide you with five seconds to can i do know work to your visualization one two three four five all proper so let’s have a seem so that you saw these two patterns prior it in most cases is reflected like this on a two hour time frame are you able to see what happened the 2 1-hour candles are with ease mixed to type the sample and you are seeing right now ok let me just go back a little bit bit so you will see that proper this one over right here this one plus this one and this one plus this one so what occurs is you get this candlestick pattern over here and this candlestick pattern over here all proper so let’s just to walk you via why is this green color on account that the second candle did shut greater above the primary so in case you appear at it this 2d candle over here it it closed larger above this one over here so that’s why you obtained a bullish bullish close okay and similar for this proper this candle it closed correct but it surely didn’t exceed the open of this candle so that’s why it is nonetheless pink on the 2 hour time period as you will find over here and over here k so with the aid of now i’m hoping which you could comprehend how candlestick patterns will also be combined so this is very priceless correct when you’re looking at a fee chart let’s say the one-hour time period and which you could you are not able to make feel out of it correct so you’re gonna see obviously what you are able to do is go on to a two hour time period and things might be exceptional or you could get a clearer view of what is happening in a similar way if you are on a four hour time frame that you would be able to make experience out of it go as much as the eight hour time period and matters possibly clearer for you k so this is the so-known as usefulness proper off combining candlestick pattern second i do know just understanding what’s going on on the colossal photo so now how not to trick candlestick patterns correct so like no you’re no longer we candlestick patterns even not to combine them how do you now not deal with candlestick patterns given that this is a mistake correct I see many new merchants make on account that you understand as I’ve mentioned right previous you consider that I see there if the candle is inexperienced it means bullish if the candle is pink it means bearish right the rate is close slash so what traders would do is that you simply appear at a chart and they find a sequence of inexperienced candles and it go long for instance they see over here what many candles inexperienced over right here bullish bullish let me purchase it so bullish to go along and bam MA reverse similarly in a position appear on the chat oh it is so Barry’s right Rick and little Rick and the brainless aids you already know promoting a cellar signal control I will have to go along bum market reverse correct or if they look at you realize this inexperienced kennel oh rejection of a rejection of diminish costs this Kendall correct let me go long Pam mark in Reverse what is going on on proper why why is that so so i’m going to explain why definitely but first correct how the message i am looking to carry over here is that you do not need to deal with candlestick patterns in isolation what is isolation it manner correct you already know what a trick candlestick patterns with the aid of in itself simply because the candlestick is green it doesn’t mean you go long simply on account that it can be nice doesn’t mean you go quick that is what I imply via isolation so do not deal with candlestick patterns on this method ok so just a speedy recap proper Candlestick charts it can be mixed as I’ve shared with you prior and in addition you do not need a trick candlestick patterns in isolation so now you probably questioning ok Rana so how should I deal with candlestick patterns proper so let’s speak about that so how must you treat candlestick patterns I want to introduce to you something what I name the ok framework the Taytay framework all correct so what’s Tay Tay stands for instruct right is discipline of worth and E stands for entry set off ok so when you wish to have to trick candlestick patterns proper remember these three matters the pattern the field of price and the entry set off so now earlier than i will you realize dive into this framework and this technique correct I must give an explanation for to you what is entry set off k to be able to do so correct i would say candlestick patterns are very valuable and strong entry set off right into a tray so before we are able to go into this framework right let me share with you right 5 powerful five robust candlestick patterns correct that may function an entry trigger and once we’ve got realized that proper we will seem at this framework and spot how we will honestly to find excessive likelihood trading setups in the market k so moving on the first candlestick pattern that i want you to know is the engulfing so the engulfing pattern correct that is the so known as the speculation in the back of it correct so you can see that this green candle over here is what we call the bullish engulfing sample why is that due to the fact if you appear at it correct the body of the golf green candle which is here from right here within the open and the shut it has engulfed the physique of the prior candle so that is the prior candle let’s call it number one and it can be number two correct you will see that the engulfing candle bullish engulfing candle has sincerely covered the complete physique of the primary candle so this is why we name it the bullish engulfing pattern considering the fact that the that means at the back of it’s that should you appear at the charts correct first candle retailers are in manage the open over here and it close near the free on a 2d candle the shoppers are by some means on steroids I pump the in a position on steroids able open near the lows and also you sooner or later push price up the entire approach up close the highs over here they’re freakin on steroids right this is open and that is the closed so this can be a signal of strength correct let’s have a look at it suggests you that the bias have reversed the entire selling strain and more so for this reason it can be called a bullish engulfing pattern right firstly engulfed the physique of the earlier candle and it can be a sign of strength as a bias have pushed cost higher and even closing above the highs of the previous candle the other pattern is what we name the bearish engulfing patterns simply the opposite proper you’ll discover that the primary sort over here is bullish bias are in control open here and closing close the highs but a mixture candle sell us to Chechens smash the fee reduce correct they open close the highs as well but they took cost and sooner or later push rate scale back and shutting near the lows over right here so it is a bearish engulfing pattern telling what agents are in manipulate k so this is the first sample I need to share with you the engulfing sample and it is very priceless to identify no market reversals the subsequent one hammer and taking pictures superstar all right so let’s have a appear at the hammer so the hammer is some thing that you simply possibly familiar with since you noticed previous correct be prior examples so the hammer is a bullish reversal on the grounds that it’s virtually displaying you cost rejection in the market actually it’s rejection of minimize costs should you seem at this correct the price open right here and at one factor in time when the sellers had been truly in manage push cost minimize near the lows of this session close the lows of this session after which the bias came in to just good day hey that is adequate man i am coming in right they push cost all the means up bigger and eventually closing close the highs right so it is a sign of strength correct rejection of lower costs so this is what a hammer approach then again right the shooting famous person is solely the opposite right it’s displaying you rejection of greater prices in the event you appear at this right the cost open here bias took Church push the fee up better however then howdy retailers all of a sudden got here in and push the rate down perhaps you understand detainment it prices too high you know it are not able to go any better this mobilephone they shot the market and a market crumple slash ultimately closing near the lows so it is a rejection of better prices right these two patterns again all proper are you attempt to help you identify market reversals dragonfly and a gravestone doji proper sounds a handful but particularly based is very similar to the hammer and capturing star the one difference proper is that now this doji doji simply method proper a indecision within the markets but for dragonfly and headstone doji it is a sign of fee rejection considering when you look at it right it’s surely very similar to the hammer and capturing began you have got noticeable earlier proper let me simply go back a little bit bit hammer shooting celebrity dragonfly doji gravestone doji so now let me ask you what is the difference between the hammer and shooting superstar and the Dragonfly and gravestone doji if you happen to suppose about this correct the one change is the doji does not have a body there is not any physique proper what it just shows you is simply the rate rejection so this element over right here is the rejection of shrink costs this factor over right here is the rejection of larger costs so in case you feel about this correct despite the fact that the cost is opening shut at the equal level it doesn’t mean that the market is undecided considering the market has simply tilt its Henn proper due to the fact at one point the dealers have been in control pushing rate down cut back after which the bias came in correct and took cost and subsequently push up all the means up higher and closing close where it open exit stage so this can be a signal of force rejection of better rejection of diminish costs and this simply the reverse proper price open at this degree bias to guage push the price up bigger after which vendor smash the rate down cut down closing at the equal degree ok so this can be a rejection of cut down prices rejection of greater costs moving on right morning and night famous person correct megastar let’s appear on the famous person so this can be a morning superstar so one can find that this is a quite similar to the engulfing sample but with a moderate version to it first candle sell uh signal manage open over here and shutting close the lows second candle which is this dodgy looking candle is indecision proper on the grounds that the market opened and closed on the same degree considering when you if you learn this uh candlestick pattern what’s telling you there is the outlet a detailed are on the equal level market at one point in time proper this was the peak of the session and at one point in time that is the lows of the session so ultimately correct the highs and lows the market sincerely understand when back to do where it open correct so it’s telling that there is any one in decision indecision in the markets and then sooner or later proper the 0.33 candle prize open and push up all the manner up bigger and in the end closing close the highs so in the event you look on the fee portion of this candlestick pattern or if you think about this is like first candle retailers Inc are in manipulate push the rate scale back 2d candle buyers and marketers there comprise in equilibrium are not able to clothier who gets the abilities so they are often nearer on the identical level candle by using a step in right and say hi there you recognize I imply Josh growth price close near the heist so that is the meaning behind the a Morningstar it is a bullish reversal pattern and the evening big name is just the reverse right first candle buyers are in control closing near the heights second candle indecision right Candace i know whether or not you recognize go up will go down so that is why they closed within the same level where they open on this disc and over here opening shut say the equal level and Kendall Morningstar correct sorry bears come in and push fee diminish closing close the lows so this is what we name a night famous person a bearish reversal pattern and subsequently tweezer high and backside right so a tweezer top proper is this one over right here k so that is genuinely a tweezer backside so let’s talk about tweezer backside first twist the backside truly right it is a it’s a offseason due to the fact it is truely showing you proper rejection of diminish prices two instances correct first rejection 2d rejection proper so in case you appear on the cost section once more cost open over right here at one factor in time correct the dealers got here down all of the approach down diminish tried em through a step in push price bigger and closing 12 months then the following can recognize the fee open at this level phone let’s try to push fee slash as soon as once more proper near the bottom expense you probably did beforehand over here couldn’t exceed the lows just could not push fee scale back then the customers stepped in and in the end closing and the highs so this is a sign of force correct rejection of slash costs in fact you rejected the rate says twice right so it is a quite a powerful pattern correct indicates you two instances the cost of rejection and alternatively proper it is a tweezer prime correct you will see that over right here fee open over here and closed right here at one point in time it was once at the height of this session before the sellers did push rate fairly slightly in the end closing close this center of the range of the candle then the following candle the price open here and the purchasers swiftly took cost God rejected within the same stage or around the same level again earlier than the marketers are available in pushed the price minimize and subsequently closing near the low so once more two instances the price rejection rejection of greater costs so it is a bearish reversal pattern so now that you simply comprehend right the 5 strong candlestick patterns how does this fit into the teh framework proper don’t forget the T right pattern subject of worth and the entry trigger so now we relatively settle the entry trigger portion because the reversal patterns that you’ve seen prior those are entry triggers that you need to use to enter the trade but before you you realize you exchange it correct keep in mind we said correct do not trade it in isolation like which means that we must use different reasons or other market stipulations right to appear for before we look forward to our entry trigger and the conditions that we look for is the ok framework that trend and area of price and in the end the entry trigger so firstly correct the development so what we’re watching for is that if the rate is above the 200 ma we will be able to have a long bias which means that we wish to be a customer in this market if the rate is beneath the 200 MA we are going to have a shot shoppers because of this we will be able to simplest be watching to shop right so have an understanding of that after I outline the teacher it doesn’t mean that simply seeing that the fee is above the 200 period relocating typical it doesn’t suggest you go alongside immediately no no no that is simply to provide you with a bias a permission that whats up you realize now it’s time to be buying now it’s time to be looking for shopping opportunities ok so now that we’ve defined the development a 2nd thing we want to look for is field of price proper you wanna get a trait from an discipline of value while you go to a supermarket you don’t be buying apples proper when you’re promoting tree apples for $30 you want to be purchasing apples at three for $1 3 for $2 right getting price out of it and it’s the identical for trading proper when you need to buy commute from an field of price so an field of value would be stuff like aid and resistance relocating ordinary trendline channels and so on and so on so i’m simply gonna offer you a couple of examples over here subject of value and the 1/3 factor is where we look for the entry trigger to enter the trade like for instance the candlestick patterns you will have visible prior engulfing pattern tweezer tops and bottoms you know and and many others okay so now using this framework we are able to then formulate buying and selling procedures correct to profit in pull and undergo markets so bear in mind the very first thing we’re looking for the development correct if it can be an uptrend we can simplest look to purchase and we are going to purchase it either field of support moving natural or upward development line and then we appear for an entry trigger right the entry set off can be a bullish reversal sample like a hammer a bullish engulfing pattern right a dragonfly doji in a cetera does it make sense okay so now let’s have a seem at a number of examples to sort of be aware of carry on this thought collectively carry all these concepts together instance one so you will discover over right here correct I wouldn’t have the 200ma on the chart right however remember the fact that the development is down right considering that you can see that the market is moving from up to down so it can be a downtrend then we saw that you already know the rate came into this area of resistance right the way in which the fee of rejected wants twice in a 3rd time and at the moment over here you’ve gotten received this entry set off so quantity one you appear proper you have got the trend what is the pattern the trend is down number two do you will have the field of worth sure you do right that is the area of worth we’re at resistance correct and i’m tree do you will have your entry set off let’s call it e entry set off yes you do have correct this can be a taking pictures celebrity rejection of higher prices so are you able to seen it now you’re not trading candlestick patterns in isolation now you’re buying and selling candlestick patterns in the context of the market that means you’re buying and selling candlestick patterns right centered on you realize market structure based on the pattern this simply extended the probability of your trade working out so you can find that over right here correct taking pictures megastar occurred at resistance in a downtrend ok and the market did proceed relatively cut down so one thing to factor out is that the examples I confirmed you correct are all most often profitable trades but truly proper you will not get all winning trades you are going to quite often meet you already know 50 percent winners 50 percent losers again the rationale why I share profitable trades in view that it is less complicated to demonstrate the inspiration however again those chart or as an alternative the danger you might be seeing right now this are cherry-opt for I admit correct to demonstrate the point i’m trying to make a move however in a real wall of buying and selling proper you won’t have hundred percent winners someplace alongside 50% 55% winners so this is whatever that you just have got to a variety of asset and embody ok so this is the primary example 2d instance correct what is the development of one what’s the trend train is well down proper down instruct or i will see that the costs coming down lessen quantity two where is the area of worth this time around the subject of value is a relocating average this is the 50 period moving typical is appearing as a dynamic resistance i’m a tree what is your entry set off this time flawed now we have this a bearish engulfing sample i spotted this over here market closed higher 2d candle smash minimize closing you’re the low so this is what we call a bearish engulfing pattern right so we’ve treating any one coach subject of worth and entry set off and we can go brief now having our stops above this high someplace right here correct and the market to look if the market can continue cut back so now you will find that hey you realize we’re all buying and selling with whatever that that type of is sensible proper established on what the market is telling you we’re no longer just buying and selling these patterns blindly in isolation illustration 3 o.K. Appear at this correct ask yourself again what is the development what what’s the train well uptrend right series of better highs and larger lows if you cannot see this correct just pull out your 200 ma proper and possibilities are this one the fee shall be above the 200 ma so anyway the pattern is up 2d factor discipline of worth do we have an subject of price to treat from well appears find it irresistible proper for the reason that the price has been respecting me 50m in here here here and here okay so number three entry trigger do we have an entry set off good seems adore it right we have a bullish engulfing pattern over here a signal of reversal rejection of rejection of minimize prices proper cost closed higher engulfing be for a scandal here as well fee open and enclose bigger above the first candle one more bullish engulfing sample so this can be a bullish reversal pattern then that you may go lengthy proper not a bullish reversal pattern then you can go lengthy and again we’re not going long just considering the fact that we see a bullish reversal sample we go alongside when you consider that it is in an uptrend from an area of worth correct let’s have a seem at an extra illustration this time round right what is the teach again what’s the pattern one appear it is an uptrend quantity two subject of worth where is it correct in case you appear on the subject of worth we now have this actually this pattern line aid so this time round it can be now not it is now not a moving normal or aid correct it is a trend line upward pattern line so you will see that that over right here actually in the event you seem closely this over here correct that you could clearly plot a level over here it’s what we name a earlier aid that EGIS resistance this one and on high of it you could have the confluence of a development line so your subject of worth now could be there are two things correct i am just call it x 2 1 is the development line upward development line help and the other one is the previous resistance again aid correct so that is strong subject of worth the third thing what do we have all these engulfing sample proper we’ve got this right so this is your entry trigger again the Tay framework is met right uptrend field of value entry set off right this bullish engulfing is a bullish reversal sample ok yet another example right I particularly need to do hammer in this patron proper so once you can apply it right i would say that you recognize that you would be able to start discovering right a lot larger probability trading setups alternatively of you recognize just blindly buying and selling these patterns so again number one what is the trend good down development right quantity two area of price what is the field of value this one over right here correct resistance previous aid appearing as resistance resistance okay quantity three what’s the entry trigger I suppose we’ve got acquired some thing referred to as knee tweezer prime correct as you can find that the fee rejected the highs over right here one time you then rejected right here 2nd time correct and ultimately closing near the toilet so this can be a tweezer high Barry’s reversal sample merchants can look to go shot and stop-loss correct I regularly set it a distance far from the high part I need to set it instantly instantly above the absolute best considering sometimes the market can just spike up greater and then reverse curb all right so most of the time I give it some buffer put it somewhere right here right in the event you notice i have no longer speaking about target earnings but considering the fact that this complete cost is ready Candlestick patterns i don’t need to go into alternate administration and target earnings if now not your run proper for just a few hours correct however most of the time correct if you are a swing dealer what you can do is to seize the swing appear to take profits right before the set earlier than the purchasing pressure is available in so now you’re watching to buy you wish to have to take profits correct before the place consumers would step in and push cost better so in case you look at it correct the place will bias come in right bias probabilities are they’re going to are available correct on this field of help so you can also want to take earnings proper before this subject of aid okay so say your stop-loss is here your entry is someplace right here proper and your target right might be somewhere here earlier than the field of aid so t p is for entry and s is for a stop loss all right stop-loss entry goal revenue so that is anything proper you know the way we will go about buying and selling this distinctive market proper so that is for swing buying and selling for position buying and selling what you can do simply drill your discontinue-loss so i will be able to use a moving ordinary like a 20-period relocating ordinary to trillium discontinue-loss if the rate closes above the 20 ma you exit the trade or on this case correct if the fee breaks and shut above the prior candle high you exit the alternate as well so in this case proper Kendall did this candle over here ruin and shut above this previous candle excessive so that you exit somewhere here so depending the place you capture a swing or write a trend your alternate administration will range therefore okay so however it’s a video for an extra time but simply to give you a short introduction into you realize trade administration and exits illustration six all correct let’s have a seem again right so again at a framework number one what’s the development tell me right the pattern is down quantity two do we’ve an subject of price where we can alternate from right looks like the market is respecting this are 50 ma all right after which 30 do we have a valid entry trigger to trade from oh yes now we have an evening big name proper cost close greater selection Kendall and in smash minimize reverse in the other lows so now Weaver the trend downtrend subject of value 50 MA and entry set off is this evening star bearish reversal pattern okay one ultimate example to particularly hammer home right bumper mama mom the principles that you’ve realized in these days quantity one what’s the pattern Kranitz downtrend okay number two are we trading from an subject of value sure we are prior support i guess resistance okay quantity three do now we have a legitimate entry set off to head short hiya what is that this this looks like an evening famous person very well so evening famous person correct market closed greater ii can be aware of somewhat of an indecision candle and entered candle market closed shrink okay so sure we now have all this three criteria so min so one factor to factor out right is that earlier you will have seen that the I’ve shared with you the exceptional reversal candlestick patterns and if you discover correct the night famous person appears moderately distinctive from what I shared prior what I mentioned earlier for those who remember this core candle suggests a doji the place the rate opening shut on the identical stage proper the place is this one over here there’s certainly a moderate body the place the fee did close greater rather and that is major considering that what I share along with your prior the so-known as textbook patterns correct there are constantly variants to it within the reside market so for this reason it’s so essential to comprehend the candlestick patterns not by way of memorizing patterns right but working out correct what each candle imply with the aid of watching on the wick the physique and able the physique shut relative to the wick so this is why I preserve hammering that factor previous the three-pointer physique the wick and the place the price shut correct for the physique relative to the wick okay so because in the real world of trading you won’t get this textbook examples correct you won’t get you already know the outlet shut at this precise identical cost stage repeatedly gonna be a somewhat larger open often gonna be a quite lessen closer and stuff I imply you gotta understand correct nuances and variations they can come with it proper same for that you already know tweezer tops and bottoms in case you see prior the tweezer tops proper that takes for illustration I share the highs right were in a position an designated same level however for this instance or this one the second candle the absolute best certainly exceeded the first candle once more there are invariably variants to it so if you’re a high of you recognize die die you know memorize the patterns then you couldn’t have a particularly tough time on account that the market will not give you the precise textbook setup it can be perpetually comes in all versions mild nuances and alterations along so you need to be all set and you already know rather be aware of how to read candlestick patterns so that’s why we spend a while correct speakme about studying candlestick patterns within the earlier a part of the video ok so with that Citra let’s examine ok we now have covered this o.K. Let’s do a fast recap we could whatever so far we have now spoken in regards to the TAFE rainwork correct in the pattern discipline of price and entry set off proper you look for these three matters proper you can’t to find excessive probability buying and selling setups in growth markets and bear markets there’s spoke concerning the candlestick patterns that you would want to pay attention to the N golfing sample the hammer taking pictures megastar doji tweezer tops and bottoms and morning and evening superstar k so so now very well that is in general what now we have blanketed so give me a second let me verify so yeah that is a recap and quite if you want to study extra ok you observed a be trained more about what I do what I recommend is you understand that you can go right down to my website trading with wet or calm okay if you are not able to in finding it this is it right that you could go right down to my internet site buying and selling with rain or calm over right here the hyperlink correct and you found somewhat mobile the strategies and tactics that I used to create the markets going download these two free trading guys k the lingo simply so over right here I just go right down to my internet site click on this blue button this one will share with you on approaches on write colossal trends in the market consider we didn’t have time to talk about you recognize trailing discontinue loss and exit so this book over here will talk about how one can go about writing trends available in the market for rate action trading right in the superb guide to fee action buying and selling this one will share with you on how you can better read the markets and better time your entries and exits normally much like what you have learnt in these days however in a more in-depth manner so go to my website down load these two trading guides click on this blue button and i’ll send it to your e-mail tackle without spending a dime okay so that is it I’ve come to the tip of this presentation i hope you may have loved it and if you fairly do please write hit the like button smash it bam bam bam bam proper and subscribe to my youtube channel so that you perpetually be updated each time I put up content like this and finally any questions or suggestions let me understand below and i’m going to do my pleasant to help so with that cigarette i hope you acquired worth out of this presentation I desire you just right good fortune and excellent buying and selling and i will talk to you soon you

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proseofpresence · 6 years

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Mountain Pose: I’m Practicing Alone

I’m practicing aloneness. If the physicians ahead of me in the Starbucks line, with their buff arms and tight bums, merely practice medicine after 20 years of grueling training, I can practice changing 20 years of dating preoccupation: I love myself. I am happy with my company. As I wait for my tall almond milk latte, I imagine being surrounded in white light and focus on beauty: the pungency of oily beans, the hiss of frothing milk, the gratitude for monks who first pressed beans with water. I try not to look to see if the tall, dark haired doctor- whom I imagine is as bold as his Sumatra roast- is married. Though he’s the embodiment of beauty and checks out my legs as I stride by, I love myself. I am happy with my company.

I practice on my mat in a yoga class of married, ectomorphic women in designer stretch pants. Just as a I begin to count my breaths from here to nirvana, chatter rambles between my ears about the petite blond next to me wearing a traceable two karat, breathing heavily during Downward Dog: Does she make those sounds during sex? How did she get a man to commit? I forgive myself by polishing judgment from the diamond in my mind. I love myself. I am happy with my company.

Over organic salads, craft drinks, and beach outings, my married girlfriends dish trite, collective advice, which annoys me enough to induce listening.

“Stop looking. Joe and I met when I was just happy being by myself. Just love yourself. When the time’s right, he’ll show up. Get off online dating. Let him find you. Let go.”

Easy to say when you’re spooned nightly by a slightly rotund, balding, legal devotee.

Ironically, none of my friends know how to love themselves, as evidenced by their addictive habits, childhood anecdotes rife with trauma, and palpable grief for Netflix characters.

“If we truly loved ourselves, we wouldn’t desire partnership at all,” I tell them.

Yet, like the time my college dormmates challenged me to down an entire bottle of Boone’s malt liquor and take photos in my padded pushup with strangers (what happened to that disposable camera?), I give in to peer pressure: this non-doing is another form of doing I have yet to try, so I give it a go. Desiring to not desire is still desire, my superconscious says, while I consciously roll my eyes at myself, only to hug and rock my singledom from side to side in Knees-To-Chest. I love myself. I am happy with my company.

The only people who don’t give me advice are my parents who, after 43 years of marriage, attest to the power of sensuality. They met at a high school dance in the late 60s. As he places Abbey Road on the turntable and sips on chianti, Dad insists, “Mom got fresh and tried to hold my hand on the dance floor.”

Mom vehemently denies this and rolls her eyes, as she makes him a plate of cheese, olives, and Italian bread, assuring me that, “Your father pursued and wooed and never let me put my hand in my pocket for anything.”

I smile duteously for the thirtieth time, secretly wondering how I was conceived from such a fairytale, and why I’m relegated to swiping left on Randall, who posts self-aggrandizing shirtless photos in bed and trophies an illegally caught grouper above his head. Perhaps it’s college karma fifteen years late.

Staring out the glass sliders to see Dad hosing Mom’s orchids and birds of paradise, I realize no one’s touched my hand in five months. No one’s asked me to dance since last year, when I went out with the red bearded foreman (what was his name again?) who swiped right on me and, subsequently, on my left breast on the dance floor. A few dances and drinks in, our make out session was unexpectedly interrupted by his ex, a high barfly.

“You’re so pretty,” she slurred and close talked as her jaw pounded in fast rhythms, “why are you with him?”

Something in the way she moves attracts me like no other lover, something in the way she woos me...

Sadness upsurges unexpectedly in my chest. To avoid crying, I hold a pitted olive between my fingers, stare at its roundness, pop it in my mouth, and revel in its firmness. I love myself. I am happy with my company.

At 38, attending a six-week English graduate program on a remote Vermont mountain requires a balance between downsizing and realism. I’m too old to capsize my mid-maintenance lifestyle into one suitcase, and I’m too lazy to drive from Florida. Hence, the purchase of an auto train ticket. I only allow myself two variations of the essentials to fit into three plastic crates and a large garment bag. I’m sure 19th Century waggoneers seeking squatters’ rights set similar parameters, considering they never knew when a barn dance would occur. This reasonable rule, of course, does not pertain to t-shirts, jewelry, vitamin supplements, or coffee pods. These items are a form of self-care and facilitate self-love, I tell myself, while trying to puzzle together high heels with a NutriBullet and facial steamer. I love myself. I am happy with my company.

We introduce ourselves- the “singletons” as the smiling attendant calls us- while the dinner car speeds past hidden inlets and mobile homes of the southern Carolinas. The two Baby Boomers, about ten years apart in age, are pulled backward by the train, a reversal that would cause me to lose my braised chicken dinner. John, the older, smaller statured gentleman, sits across from me; and Kent, whose left eye bulges with blood post ocular surgery, sits across from Lin, a disheveled, yawning anesthesiology resident who mumbles as she speaks. I worry, as she talks the most excitedly and clearly all meal about “having a person’s autonomic functions in [her] hands,” that she might pass out in the middle of the procedure or our dinner. After Kent starts talking about his drug experimentation in the 60s, which interests Lin because she “aced pharmacology,” I engage John in the hopes that Kent stops obsequiously staring at my breasts.

With a slight smile, John tells me he’s a Snow Bird returning to upstate New York for the summer until his upcoming trip to Norway, Sweden, and Finland. Grateful that he’s well-traveled- to divert me from making eye contact with Kent, who’s tried to get my attention a few times- we chat about our favorite places.

“Bora Bora is all it’s cracked up to be,” he says staring out the window in a moment of fond reminiscence. “I took a cruise to islands in the area with an elite line: only fifty people on the ship. I got to know everyone. Good for a single guy. The food was fabulous. Not anything like this menu, which hasn’t changed in the eight years I’ve been taking the train. Pharmaceutical sales- though I was technically a drug dealer- was good to me.”

I like that he speaks in complete thoughts with a bit of oversharing: he doesn’t make this a working dinner for me. By the time melting ice cream and surprisingly decent coffee rattle in front of us, we’ve effortlessly shared stories about South Africa, southern Italy, and Bavaria.

“I used to travel with someone,” he admits in growing comfort, “but, it’s actually better being on my own. I like golfing and history, two subjects most women don’t prefer. The older I get, the more set in my ways I become. There are certain things I need to travel with. Sometimes I like it to just be quiet. I like my company. I never really hit it off with someone for more than two weeks. Marriage, it seems, just wasn’t in the cards.”

For a second, I wish the train was moving us into another timeline, one where we meet in the middle of our loveless histories, two singletons of a similar age looking out windows in search of the other. Just before the silence goes on for too long, grief wells in my eyes as I think of a man I miss, of a similar name somewhere in Africa, who tinkered around my house for two weeks fixing things and me, who wasn’t in my cards. I love myself. I am happy with my company.

“You are just like the shrink on Billions. I just love her. So smart and sexy,” Kent interjects, pulling me into the present, as the attendant clangs dirty plates away, and he slurps his remaining chardonnay. “If you want to chat later, I have one of those privacy cots in car 5325.”

“No thank you,” I assert as an unexpected confidence rises in my throat. “I am happy with my company.”

All I can think about is his bulging eye and how Paul Giamatti would likely never drink chardonnay. All I can do is imagine him surrounded in white light and thank him, by touching my heart, for focusing on my beauty.

I’m living aloneness in my single dorm room, while taking black and whites of deserted churches and barns, in writing at the lone coffee shop, while searching for a meal that isn’t pub grub, in suffering no cell service, while spending $50 on two bags of groceries, in doing laundry from a coin operated machine, while profusely sweating no air conditioning, in missing Dad play dress-up with my nieces, while seeing photos of Mom cradling her new puppy, in lamenting the closest yoga studio is an hour away, while listening to low-maintenance strangers during communal dinners, in reading Titus Andronicus’ bloody demise, while running past Robert Frost’s diverging wood, in letting go of the fantasy of meeting my husband amid fireflies, while breathing out the fear that this is all there is and will ever be. I love myself. I am happy with my company.

#modernlove #30sdating #vermont #yoga #selflove #proseofpresence #poetryofpresence

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