#letters to jacko

[leahgecko]

it's been almost a year since i've sat down to write one of these holy shit. i don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing? there's so much to say but i don't even know where to start? i went to the blue ridge rock fest this year and it got canceled because of weather after like 3 days. which, i'm not exactly complaining? it was a blast while it lasted but also a little bittersweet since it was something that i knew you would've LOVED and it was starting to hit me in the feels. now i'm just vibing out in nashville which is also something you would've loved lmao.

i've been sober for like a year and a half now. from narcotics, not alcohol lmao. ya girl still needs her tequila. sometimes, on the shitty days when i'm ready to cave, i can hear you go all "don't you fuckin DARE." it's insane how you're still my voice of reason sometimes. idk... this is the first time in my life that i've felt like i'm actually doing decent? i've been doing a lot of work on my inner self, trying to unlearn shitty habits... and i still have a lot of work to go. but like, progress is progress, right?

there's so much shit happening right now but i'm just kinda taking it a day at a time. my momma got a breast cancer diagnosis a few weeks ago and i'm also dealing with some health shit myself that i'm still coming to terms with. then there's just shit with my 'father' and i'm like what the actual fuck is happening rn. it is what it is i guess and i'll just keep dealing with it but sometimes i'd like a break.

once i get back home, i gotta go see your parents. they told me i could decorate their house again for halloween and i'm so excited. i feel like i haven't been able to see them as much as i'd like because i've been so busy but they've always been understanding about it. tbh, sometimes i'd wish they've just get mad about it but i know that'll never happen.

our girl is in highschool now and z is a full grown adult. it's kinda hard to believe. i'm glad that they're healthy and thriving but holy shit i wish they'd stay smol. kenzi still finds ways to bring you up in our conversations and it makes my heart happy knowing that you were so so loved. not only by me, but by literally everyone who knew you. i just wish you could've seen it before it was too late.

until next time, fly high nerd. i love you.

[vomittedsoap]

Jacko discussion

In the scene where Lady Jane Franklin gives Jacko as a gift to Sir John Franklin, John points out “that monkey is female” even tho she’s already named the monkey Jacko (which I’m assuming is a male name).

…. Wtf is the meaning of this scene?? It sticks out to me just cuz idk what was the point of that. Is it a reference to some letters/ships logs or something?

Is it a reference to the fact that scientists identified some of the bodies of the Franklin expedition as female (which could be a false reading but also it’s not impossible that there was some females onboard, maybe disguised as males)…??????

Is it a reference to when [either Crozier or Blanky I forgor] says the Tuunbaq has to be male just because of the way that it is..?

Or am I stupid??

[jackobbit]

REAL!! NOT FAKE!! A JACKO DOODLE HAS ENTERED THE SCENE!!

Sorry it’s been so long since I uploaded art! I had to move again lately so it took me ages to get my stuff set back up, I feel way out of practice so I apologize if this isn’t the best.

Regardless, woe, E.V.I.L. be upon ye

[ID: A digitally drawn, colorless image of Solar Flare and Bloodmoon from the Working for E.V.I.L. Au. They both sit on the ground and look off to the left where offscreen Eclipse says “You two only get a five minute break.” Solar Flare responds with “Setting timer” in block letters to represent a robotic voice as Bloodmoon flips off the off-screen Eclipse in frustration. Solar Flare is a blocky robot with a circular head, a vent for a mouth and several angled sun-like rays that surround their head. They sit with one leg on the floor and the other bent upwards, both arms are placed on either side of Solar Flare as their hands rest on the ground. Bloodmoon sits to the right. He is a robot who wears several belts and chains, a twin tailed jester hat, devil horns and baggy pants. They look displeased as one arm holds his body upwards, his legs crossed over one another with one flat on the floor and other going above it. He has two tails, both of which sprawl out to the left and right. The entire picture is colored white. /End ID]

[myemuisemo]

Parts 6-8 of Letters from Watson's handling of The Sign of the Four hit at a time when I was swamped with work, so circumstances have made a fool of my assumption about that tiny footprint before I had a chance to thoroughly embarrass myself in public.

My first thought for the footprint was "monkey" -- I apparently really, really want a monkey, and there are certain macaques whose faces would be absolutely terrifying if seen pressed against a dark window. The problem is, the footprints of monkeys, apes, gorillas, and other such don't look like human footprints. They're all much more like hands. Gorillas come closest to having a human-like foot, but there's still a big thumb-like finger. And, of course, gorillas are too big anyway.

My venture into simian podiatry at least explains why Dr. Watson doesn't think "monkey." Victorians would have been better informed on this topic than I am, as monkeys were a common household pet in England. Little Jacko was, unsurprisingly, usually clever but mischievous. The blog from which I got monkey-lore also gets into monkey-fighting, which is even more appalling than how monkeys were treated as pets.

In part 8, we discover that the footprint does not, after all, belong to a monkey, ape, or other animal. Oh no, Doyle has in mind a situation much worse, and he's even foreshadowed it with two Indian servants. The colonial occupiers of India absolutely brought home people for their convenience.

The mysterious Jonathan Small brought home an indigenous Andaman Islander, who would be totally justified in wanting to kill anyone associated with the British Army. About 30-40 years before the time of the story, British settlement on the island had brought diseases that nearly wiped out the indigenous peoples. Efforts to help them existed -- one such would have been in the news in 1888 -- but it's still entirely a shameful episode.

(If you recall the 2018 story of the missionary who was determined to land on an island of indigenous peoples who were known for not allowing visitors... these were Andamanese, specifically Sentinelese. He was killed by the locals.)

Now, then, listen to this. ‘They are naturally hideous, having large, misshapen heads, small, fierce eyes, and distorted features. Their feet and hands, however, are remarkably small. So intractable and fierce are they that all the efforts of the British official have failed to win them over in any degree. They have always been a terror to shipwrecked crews, braining the survivors with their stone-headed clubs, or shooting them with their poisoned arrows. These massacres are invariably concluded by a cannibal feast.’

There's still a lot of "exotification of the savage" here -- the images of today's Andaman Islanders just look like people, very dark-skinned, with textured hair. Cannibalism felt like one of those charges levied against any group one doesn't like, and sure enough! Every source I can find today says the people of the Andaman Islands never practiced cannibalism. History Today also says "no poisoned darts," but the article's partly paywalled.

The Andaman Islander has kind of harshed my buzz vis-a-vis fun elements like the many ways Holmes demonstrates he's a man of class flexibility, the "never tired when working" line (he has got to be neurospicy), the omnipresence of creosote (used as a wood preservative, toxic af to the workers and anyone who recklessly burned all creosote-treated wood), and the humor of the newspaper report fronting for more localized police stations, along with the running joke of Athelney Jones arresting everyone indiscriminately.

At least there was a badger (at the house where Toby was obtained).

[guiltygearconfessions]

letter to all gg fans. listen to helloween. listen to i want out and you stupid mankind be helloween. please. Especially jacko fans PLEASE. Ky Kiske was named after helloween members did u know that . LISTEN

-

[someone-elsa]

URL Song tag game

(Links go to spotify)

s : Stranger / The Cohens (from Cities: Skylines) o : Other Ways / Trevor Hall m : Memories / The Midnight e : Egg Shells / Jacko Hooper o : On Melancholy Hill / Gorillaz n : Natalie / Milk & Bone e : Everything I Ever Wanted (Solo Piano) / Bright Light Bright Light - e : Elsa / GAMMAL l : Los Angeles / The Midnight s : Summertime / Orville Peck a : Ambitions / Donkeyboy

Lmao I have difficult letters 🙃

I was tagged by @budgie2budgie and @tipsy-clouds Thank you! ♥

I'll tag @tacosauraus @bubblyccfinds @tashsim @waterlessbody @hellodahliah @theosconfessions @leavath @graceyard-gumbo @trivphiasims @scamberose @gloomydahlia @guys-imtrippin @nyrachelle-plays Don't feel obliged to do this, it's supposed to be fun! And you can do it later, a year later even haha! :)

[gothicastles]

this section in fairholme's letter about jacko (july 1st 1845) made me laugh out loud lmao

The monkey continues to be the annoyance & Pest of the whole ship, & yet not a person in her would hurt him for the whole world. He is a dreadful thief but such a very amusing one that his robberies bring very little sympathy for the unfortunate losers!

my girl said‼️ it's being a menace hours‼️

[blubushie]

hi leafanon here, other anon is dumb but im curious, ive always heard that "aborigine" is offensive and the term youre supposed to use is "aboriginal." which is correct?

G'day leafanon!

Reckon this is a question better suited for a blackfella (which I'm not) but in my own experience of the folks I've met "Aboriginal" is preferred in the cities and "Aborigine" is preferred in the Outback. Really it depends on who you ask. Some blackfellas are alright with the term Aborigine, others aren't.

About ten years or so ago people really started to get into the PC culture of "everything is offensive" and now you'll cop a lot of shit for saying "Aborigine" in cities. That said, also in my experience the people that hang shit on you for saying it are rarely Indigenous and are usually white people. Folks outside of cities generally don't care and ascribe more to the traditional meaning of the word and are reclaiming it from whatever negative connotation it might've had in the past.

In the Outback (among the people I've met at least, mostly Anangu and Gaagudju, which is what my mob and Jacko are) the preferred term is "Aborigine." Aborigine is the noun for a First People individual. Aboriginal is an adjective. Jack is an Aborigine. A spear made by his mob would be Aboriginal.

Whatever you do, DO NOT ABBREVIATE THE WORD by reducing it to the first three letters of the word or you will be punched. I know Aussies abbreviate everything but that abbreviation has massive negative connotation and isn't acceptable to use as it's the Aborigine's equivalent of the n-word. If you're a tourist you generally get a pass because it's not likely that you know it's a slur, but if you're an Aussie you can fully expect to have a fight on your hands if you say it.

[leahgecko]

i miss you. i hate this. that’s it. 

[leahgeckoarchive]

dear jacko,

i know it's been a while and i'm sorry. i just got swarmed with health and family and all sorts of other shit, but trust me, i never forgot about you. today would have been our 9 year anniversary and honestly, it's got me all up in my feels.

i miss you so fucking much. they say that time heals all wounds but i really think that's bullshit. sure, some days are easier than others - but it's never completely easy. i find myself looking back and i can't help but wonder where we would have been today. i know i said i never wanted to get married, but i would have married the shit out of you 😂. i like to think that we would have been living our best lives and being a pain in each other's asses.

i talked to your momma last night and i'm supposed to go see her later today. the year anniversary for mitch is coming up soon and honestly, i think we're all struggling. we miss you boys so fucking much. even so, your parents seem to be doing okay! she still tries to mom me like no other and i'm so grateful. they practically adopted me and have been there for me when my own family wasn't and they didn't have to do that. but they did. so i'm going to be there for them.

nana mamie is in hospice right now, but she's a fighter. my aunt and uncles just fucked her over and left her there... but i really think she has more time left if she could just get the proper care. i'm filing for guardianship later today so hopefully... we can get bust her ass out and give her a fighting chance... because look, i'm not ready to say goodbye to her. that woman basically helped raised me and i owe her so much. i know there will be a time that i will have to say goodbye, but not now.

as for me? i'm exhausted in every sense of the word - but i'm hanging in there. it's taking everything in me to not collapse into myself but i know that's not something you would've wanted for me. i already know you'd kick my ass and tell me to stop wallowing around, to fall back in love with life again, so i'm trying.

please give mitch and that baby a huge hug for me and give koda some ear scratches. until next time, fly high star boy.

[yourheartbeatonthehighline]

i haven’t unfollowed you because one, i love your posts. two, seeing “yourheartbeatonthehighline” gives me instant joy since cardigan is my fav

why thank you so much!! I love this url and cardigan with my whole heart

new ask game: instead of telling me why you followed me, why haven’t you unfollowed me?

[carewyncromwell]

May I ask for some Jackson headcanons? It's mainly bc I miss him and so does Orla

Ohhhh, my sweet, gay Minister showman!! I really haven't done much for him lately -- I so need to fix that! If nothing else, Jacko and Lala’s friendship owns my heart!! 🥰💚

In the meantime, though...headcanons for my dear Jackson!

Resident charmer Jackson had his fair share of admirers at Hogwarts, many of them female. Jackson's first real crush, however, ended up being on his future husband and one true love, Montelimar "Monty" Bloom -- all of Jackson's friends can testify that Jackson is absolutely insufferable, when it comes to expressing that affection. Jackson would gush about Monty's talents, accomplishments, and best traits quite frequently even before he came out of the closet, and once Jackson and Monty became a thing, all gloves were off. Jackson never fails to verbally express his complete adoration and respect for his significant other, however much he still feels self-conscious showing physical affection in public. @cursebreakerfarrier

At school Jackson was a very popular Quidditch commentator. He had such a flair for it that several scouts from the Quidditch League actually approached him about going professional after school, but by then, Jackson had already grown up enough that he knew he would do far more good at the Ministry of Magic. Jackson's favorable impression with the Quidditch League, though, later served him very well as a member of Minister Venusia Crickerly's support staff, whenever he'd have to work with the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

Jackson's mother Cassandra -- not unlike Arthur Weasley -- finds a lot of charm in Muggle trinkets and baubles. One of her favorite things to collect are Muggle music boxes.

Jackson absolutely loathes American-style hot dogs. Even as Minister, he silently refused to indulge in any even when offered one at a meeting with the MACUSA's president, though of course he merely feigned lack of hunger and smiled and charmed his way through the entire press conference to try to draw attention away from his disdain for the food being served.

Jackson never got to meet Gellert Grindelwald in person, but he did actually receive a note from Grindelwald at one point during the war against him, "appealing" to Jackson that they were more alike than he thought -- that the world had both done them wrong, and they could remake the world anew much more easily if they worked together, rather than against each other. Grindwelwald even ended the note by cheekily inviting Jackson to attend his upcoming rally in Paris. Jackson was so offended by the message that he strode across the sitting room to the fireplace, chucked the letter in the roaring fire, and then settled himself down into his husband Montelimar's lap so he could cuddle with him for the next hour.

After Jackson was returned home to his mother after being kidnapped by his father, his maternal grandfather Everard took a very strong liking to Jackson. Being a Slytherin himself, Everard passed down an old class ring of his emblazoned with the Slytherin serpent down to Jackson, as both a graduation gift and a blessing of his relationship with Monty. Everard also thinks very highly of Jackson's best friend, Adelia Selwyn -- he solely credits her for Jackson being rescued from his Muggle conman father and returned to his family, which is a debt he thinks will never be fully repaid. @thatravenpuffwitch

Even if Jackson is very charming and by and large dislikes violence, that doesn't mean he can't be kind of immature, when it comes to dealing with fights. He will absolutely sass someone's face off or give them a good verbal lashing, even if they're about ready to blast a wall open, whether out of flat-out amusement or just to "stick it" to them. This is especially true if the person is someone Jackson already doesn't like -- it doesn't matter if that person is twice Jackson's size with muscles the size of melons; Jackson's going to dance around them taunting them anyway, just to rile them up. There have been more than a few times where either husband Monty has had to play knight in shining armor and come to Jackson's rescue or friend Orla Atkinson has had to swoop in to kick the person's arse before they murder Jackson in cold blood. @nightmaresart

Jackson's first familiar was a black cat named Lenore, named after the poem by one of his favorite authors, Edgar Allen Poe. After Lenore died, Jackson was so utterly heartbroken that a week or so later, Adelia surprised him with a brand-new, bright-white kitten, who Jackson named Odo. Odo is a male version of the name "Odette," the main character from the ballet Swan Lake.

As Minister, Jackson developed a very good relationship with the French Ministry of Magic, thanks in part to his knowledge of French through his husband Monty and in part to his overall charm and charisma. The French Ministry was incredibly disappointed by Jackson's successor, Hector Fawley, who they considered both far less talented and far more boring.

One of Jackson's happiest memories working for the Ministry was being able to visit the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary and actually being able to handle and feed some of their residents. Jackson was even able to ride one of them -- a one-eyed Antipodean Opal Eye there called Lukas -- much to his ever-lasting glee. He even sent a picture of himself with the dragon in question to his old school friend Siobhan Llewellyn, just to share how over the moon he was about finally being able to ride a dragon. @kc-and-co

Jackson loves spoiling his friends with gifts, but he also will sometimes express his generous nature in softer ways, such as magically mending some of Orla's injuries after a fight or offering to pin up Siobhan's hair before she enters a formal school event. He's particularly prone to fixing his male friends' ascots or collars -- when he does it with his husband Monty, the gesture is always rather sexually charged, since Jackson often can't help himself from whispering about how much he can look forward to helping Monty "loosen up" later.

After Jackson's death, a collection of the poetry he wrote is found in his husband Monty's old file cabinet. That collection of poetry is eventually reprinted and published post-mortem, under the title of one of Jackson's earliest poems -- Forever in Bloom.

[toomanyassassins]

an entry from Fitzjames’ letters about Jacko

[chaotic-goodsir]

Update on things I have learned about the irl Franklin expedition members from Erebus: The Story of a Ship (spoilered in case anyone wants to read this book themselves without me ruining it)

- Fitzjames regularly stayed up until 2am (when he had watch at 5!) writing letters and keeping his journal. When Reid asked if him if he ever slept, Fitzjames said he got twice the amount of sleep as other men in half the number of hours.

- Crozier feigned illness multiple times to avoid going to Franklin’s ‘team meetings’.

- Franklin was worried that Crozier was miserable about Sophie Cracroft. Meanwhile, Crozier was writing a long letter to James Clark Ross, saying how he missed him terribly and could never be happy on the expedition without him.

- There was an in-joke on Erebus that Jacko the Monkey had consumption. The ship’s doctor (Palin doesn’t say which, but presumably Stanley?) was asked to look at him and concluded that the only 'consumption’ symptom Jacko had was the consumption of everything edible within his reach.

- At one point they sailed through a massive shoal (pod? herd?) of narwhals, which isn’t particularly relevant to anything but is just a really cool image.

[fitzjmes]

The stray bullet hits him like a freight train and for a moment, Jack damn near doubles over; hand automatically pressed to his belly as blood stains the ice beneath his feet. Great. Dying out here and then immediately freezing to death again sounded like an awful plan. After a beat, he collapses to his knees unwillingly. "Not a bear." The comment is lighter than deserved, and followed by a red stained cough; hand coming away even more drenched. "You could work on your social skills."

unprompted asks that i don’t love // accepting, i guess -.-

“Weapons down!” The Captain’s voice rang out amidst the chaos of men running and shouting— everyone fearing and expecting the worst. That bear, which had killed many of them already. Including Sir John, who had met an untimely and violent death at the hands of that beast. 

The panic was inevitable, it seemed. And James could always feel it sitting at the back of his head, too, though it was easily subdued into nothing more than a subconscious murmur. However, this would not do. No, it would not. Shooting without first confirming the target would—

“Jack?” Good Christ. 

Fitzjames took a few running steps to the man, whose blood was spilling out upon the snow at an alarming rate. He did not catch him quick enough but grabbed a hold of him nonetheless, fingers curling into his greatcoat with violent force. “Fetch Doctor Stanley,” Fitzjames demanded, all the while attempting to stem the bleeding, “Now!” The hot, dark red blood bubbled through his fingers, through the edge of the coat which he was attempting to press against the wound. There was no stopping it. Not without proper medical equipment.

“You will be alright,” he promised, as he held on to the other, “You will be alright. Breathe. Slowly, carefully. Do not move, we will have a physician on the ice in a matter of minutes.”

[lauravanarendonkbaugh]

At some recent point we crossed into four-digit territory here and I didn't even notice. So in the way of celebration, here's an in-progress peek at Blood & Bond, #3 in the Shard of Elan series. ~~~ Mage Parma called a distracted permission to whoever knocked at her door as she sorted her newly purchased powders into their appropriate drawers. She was mildly surprised when she turned to see two Gerhn priests. “Well, I suppose this was inevitable.” She strode to her worktable and sat down, facing them. “What have you come to say?” She did not offer chairs, but they took them anyway. Both wore blue garments, marking them as significant members of the Gehrn hierarchy, but neither wore the layered robes of the high priest. Flamen Ande still lived, prisoner though he was. “I am Flamen Mennti, acting high priest of the Holy Order of the Gehrn. This is Flemen Gregorio.” “I see.” As she was not pleased to meet them, she did not feel obligated to say so. Flamen Mennti folded his hands. “I presume you are aware of our petitions regarding the trial of Flemen Ande.” “I am. The trial has been suspended once already, to allow mages to review the magic in the ritual—the ritual you did not provide us, I might mention, the one which destroyed the shield protecting the kingdom. The unworking of the shield could not have been accomplished with the actions originally described. Flamen Ande must have done other what what he said, and he must have had Ryuven blood to use, which suggests forethought and intent. This has made your petition to release him, shall we say, unrealistic.” Flamen Mennti shook his head. “That is not true. Flamen Ande would have followed the rituals exactly, both the annual rites and the purification of a new site—” Elysia turned up a palm, a gesture of self-evidence. “That is something you must discuss with Flamen Ande, not me.” “But we have come to talk with you,” he pressed. “We have written our petitions for the release of Flamen Ande, both to the crown and to the Great Circle.” “It is the White Mage who would receive such a letter,” she said. He had, she knew, and she had been grateful it had not been her responsibility. “We have not had a satisfactory answer.” That meant Ewan had not promised them the release of their high priest. “We have also sent several letters to you, the Silver Mage, but we have had no answer.” She had burned them. “The Great Circle does not have authority over legal affairs,” she said, mostly patiently. “Ande is a prisoner of the crown and charged with treason.” “But the mages of the Circle are well-respected and have great influence.” Mennti leaned forward. “You could speak for us.” Revulsion lanced through Elysia’s gut like a bolt of battle magic. “I could, but I will not,” she said flatly. “If that is what you have come to ask, then we are finished.” “We are not finished,” Flamen Gregorio said, speaking for the first time. His penetrating eyes were fixed on her. Mennti raised a hand. “Not yet. I believe Mage Parma may still wish to help us.” “Not likely,” Elysia said. “If reasonable talk will not persuade her, perhaps she can be persuaded in other ways.” Elysia did not like the tone this conversation was taking. “You have already heard that the Great Circle cannot interfere in a legal trial, and especially not one for treason. And you have been reminded that I do not wish to involve myself in this particular trial. Nor do I think that Mage Hazelrig, the elder, will be particularly anxious to help free the man whose actions nearly cost the life of his daughter, the younger Mage Hazelrig.” “That is why we have not approached him again,” Flamen Gregorio said, biting off the words as if they offended him. “And you think I will be a softer mark for your petition?” Elysia shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can accommodate you. Please close the door on your way out.” Gregorio shifted forward in his seat. “Mage Parma, are you familiar with the Gehrn order? Our history, our—” “If you mean to ask if I am aware of what you are and what you do, then yes, I am,” Elysia interrupted. “As it had never been previously important or interesting, I made time to look into it after your first message. I have read your history, both the alleged founding by Red Harper after he left Bloody-Neck Jacko and the truth that no such connection was ever claimed until two centuries after. I know how you prepare for an all-encompassing war, I even know how you practice the arts of war, to a degree.” She crossed her legs. “But you might recall that I, too, practice war, and not in philosophy but in fact, and not against slaves and prisoners in ceremonial fittings but against winged and magical opponents with proper armor and weapons. So if you mean to intimidate me, Flamen Gregorio, as your Third Tenet encourages in negotiations, you should be aware that what you attempt is both illegal and difficult.” “You cannot charge that we have come to intimidate you,” Flamen Mennti said quickly. “We have only knocked at your office door and asked for your help.” “And I have told you I cannot give it.” Elysia sat back in her chair and waved her hand in a half-hearted dismissal. “The door, if you please.” via Laura VanArendonk Baugh, author https://ift.tt/2csuue1