#rufus just :v like YOU could just forget

[catonablog-blog-blog]

UFOs v. Loch Ness Monster: Cryptid Case Intrigues Investigators Greetings, fellow truth-seekers and enthusiasts of the unexplained! I am Rufus T. Flywheel, your intrepid guide into the murky realms of cryptids, UFOs, and all things mysterious. Today, I bring you a thrilling tale of intrigue and fascination—the clash of titans between UFO sightings and the legendary Loch Ness Monster. Join me as we delve deep into the heart of this cryptid case that has captured the imagination of investigators around the world. Let's start with the Loch Ness Monster, fondly known as Nessie, a creature shrouded in mystery and folklore that has haunted the waters of Loch Ness in Scotland for centuries. Tales of a massive, serpent-like beast lurking beneath the dark, peaty depths of the lake have enthralled generations, sparking numerous expeditions and investigations to uncover the truth behind this enigmatic creature. On the other side of the coin, we have the enigmatic UFO phenomenon—an ever-present mystery that continues to baffle and bewilder even the most seasoned researchers. Reports of unidentified flying objects zipping through the skies, performing impossible maneuvers, and defying the laws of physics have spawned countless conspiracy theories and speculation about extraterrestrial visitors. But what happens when these two worlds collide? In recent years, an intriguing trend has emerged, with some investigators noticing a curious overlap between sightings of UFOs and encounters with cryptids like Nessie. Could there be a connection between these seemingly disparate phenomena? Are we witnessing a convergence of otherworldly forces in our midst? One compelling theory posits that certain cryptids, including the Loch Ness Monster, may actually be extraterrestrial or interdimensional beings disguising themselves in familiar forms to evade human detection. Could Nessie be more than just a prehistoric relic or a trick of the light on the water's surface? Could it be a cleverly disguised alien spacecraft or a guardian of hidden realms beyond our understanding? Similarly, reports of UFO sightings in close proximity to locations known for cryptid activity have raised intriguing questions about the interplay between these phenomena. Are these mysterious craft drawn to sites of high strangeness, sensing some cosmic connection with the creatures that dwell there? Or are they merely passing through our reality on their way to destinations unknown, their presence leaving a wake of wonder and speculation in their path? As an avid investigator of all things mysterious and unexplained, I find myself caught in the crossfire of these cryptid encounters with the unknown. Each piece of evidence, each eyewitness account, and each tantalizing clue brings us closer to unraveling the secrets of these cryptid cases that continue to defy rational explanation. But let us not forget the human element in all of this—the brave souls who venture into the unknown, risking ridicule and skepticism in their quest for truth and discovery. From amateur enthusiasts with a passion for the strange and unusual to seasoned researchers with a lifetime of experience, these intrepid investigators form the backbone of our cryptid community, tirelessly seeking answers to the mysteries that elude us. So, dear readers, as we gaze into the abyss of the unknown, let us embrace the mystery and marvel at the wonders that await us. Whether you find yourself drawn to the enigmatic depths of Loch Ness or scanning the skies for signs of extraterrestrial visitors, remember that the truth is out there, waiting to be uncovered by those bold enough to seek it. In conclusion, the cryptid case of UFOs v. Loch Ness Monster is a tantalizing enigma that continues to captivate investigators and enthusiasts alike. As we journey deeper into the shadows of the unknown, let us keep our minds open, our spirits curious, and our eyes fixed on the horizon, where new revelations and discoveries await. Until next time, stay curious, stay vigilant, and never stop exploring the mysteries that lie beyond our understanding. Yours in pursuit of the truth, Rufus T. Flywheel

[queensconquest]

@ofsavior​ said:  There's something horribly regrettable about the situation as Gray drags his feet across the guildhall. He harbors no bad blood against Rufus, but there's something very permanent about the idea: a memory mage never forgets. That thought alone has the ice mage's features burning (a very rare sight). Yet, he's no coward. Gray has every intention of seeing this through, which is why he forcefully grasps Rufus' by the coat lapels and pays no mind to the shameful wrinkles now plaguing said coat. No, Gray's mind is narrowed to one thought — get this done and over with in swift gesture. A swift kiss, rushed messily but surprisingly precise, pressed to his counterpart's lips. And just like that, Gray sees himself out.

"Do us both a favor and try to forget about that one." He calls, back now turned to Rufus.

   “  Gray.  The  winds  are  most  -  No   ,  are  you  alright  ?  “  Rufus’s  usual  eloquence  gets  cut  in  favor  of  looking  at  the  other  mage  with  concern.  He’s  bright  red  for  one  ,  and  he  can  hear  how  different  the  heart  rate  and  breathing  pattern  are  compared  to  normal.  The  moment  new  information  arrives  he  cannot  help  but  to  memorize  it.  And  yet  there’s  also  that  stubborn  fighting  spirit  he  couldn’t  help  but  to  admire  in  battle  both  as  opponent  and  someone  who  has  fought  beside  him.  How  strange.

   “  Ah  ?  “  He  does  nothing  to  hide  the  surprise  when  he  finds  himself  being  grabbed  by  the  Ice  Make  mage.  After  all  ,  he  has  no  memory  of  something  that  would  provoke  a  reaction  like  this.  Especially  when  he’d  just  been  on  the  way  to  his  usual  spot  for  some  reading.  

   And  yet  the  surprises  tumble  after  each  other  like  a  pebble  starting  an  avalanche.  First  Gray’s  appearance  at  this  time  ,  then  his  appearance  ,  being  grasped  ,  and  now  kissed  ?  It’s  as  far  as  the  thought  goes  as  reality  sinks  in.  Concise  yet  messy  and  all  entirely  rushed  in  a  way  that  is  both  drawn  out  and  over  in  a  split  second.  Contradictions  that  threaten  a  headache  if  his  shock  wasn’t  so  great.

    In  a  second  Rufus  was  as  red  as  his  coat  and  beloved  hat  ,  lost  for  words  on  how  to  react  and  scramble  to  make  some  sense.  He’s  not  frozen  but  he  certainly  feels  stuck  as  his  brain  struggles  to  grasp  the  scenario.  “  My  Forget  does  not  work  like  that.  “  He  manages  to  respond  more  from  it  being  a  familiar  phrase  than  conscious  thought.  Still  ,  he  opts  to  let  that  moment  rest  rather  than  interrogate  or  chase  after  Gray.  So  he  tugs  his  hat  down  slightly  as  he  pivots  on  his  heels  to  continue  to  the  library  whilst  smooth  out  his  coat.

   That  was  definitely  a  new  memory.  No  one  had  ever  attempted  such  a  thing  before. How  does  one  forget  that  even  if  they  didn’t  have  Rufus’s  memory  skills  ?  It’s  not  like  Gray  would  be  able  to  if  someone  did  that  to  him.  Probably.  No  ,  no.  Enough  of  that  he  had  books  to  memorize.  That’d  help.

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

What do you feel about amandamaryanna’s video on gossip girl and cosplaying poor? It reminds me of those tik tok videos that are about the most insane rich person behavior you’ve experienced. I feel like it’s subjective because the characters Dan Vanessa and Zoya are basing their poor ness around THEIR environment. So yes, there are MANY people who are actually poor but compared to their UES counterparts they would be considered “poor” due to the fact that they do not have the insane amount of disposable wealth that the other characters have and I do not really see that as them trying to cosplay as poor.

Also what are your thoughts on her argument on GG not really talking about class consciousness and POC issues. Even though the characters Ursula, Jane and Raina had short appearances on the show, as a Black person I think that is was great that they added the few POC characters on GG because their identity was not the main focus of their characters. Usually with Black or POC characters they have to go through some racial turmoil as part of the plot and in GG they got to be rich UES-ers simply because they are. Even though GG is very verryy flawed Penelope, Nelly, Kati, Isabelle and Zoe were shown how POC characters can be rich like the white characters in the show as well GG is obviously a fictional show that’s not based on anything so I don’t think that racial income statistics/racial implications need to be talked about 24/7.

so i started watching this video & just ended up reading the transcript instead. anyway. under a read more:

like, yes. i agree with her on one hand - i think gossip girl 2007 messed up by making dan's grievances be connected to financial status, because the humphreys certainly weren't "poor". like i think this point she says makes sense to an extent:

The comparison between outsiders and insiders and gossip girl is all about relativity. To the average viewer it seems absurd that a character like Dan is supposed to represent the outsider when he is so farther in than any of us could get.

But honestly, something i hate is how people who talk about this show act as if everyone who's watching is expected to know the prices of rent in new york city, etc. like i did NOT realise how expensive that loft is until someone else mentioned it to me and i would not have guessed! who is your "average viewer" - is it an American? someone who lives in New York? someone who lives in Brooklyn? you can't just define an average viewer in that way, i feel! like you are making a BIG Assumption there and it's not necessarily accurate. people who aren't american watch american tv! such is the world we are living in.

but keeping that aside, yeah: dan and jenny had stable and secure housing, the guarantee of meals, and were attending expensive private schools, so i think the show's messaging regarding class was a little strange. they definitely weren't in a financially unstable situation.

but also, you're right. like, dan and jenny weren't super duper broke, and at no point do they actually act like they are, tbh. dan is very 'oh my parents sacrificed so much to send me to st jude's' and jenny is very 'damn i wish i was richer' but there isn't really an instance where the humphreys seem to view themselves as being extremely poor, that i remember at least. in s1, jenny says something along the lines of, "we're humphreys; we're not exactly royalty." and like. she is not wrong! they're financially stable kids, but they're ordinary kids living in an environment where everyone else has the safety net of millionnaire parents to fall back on, and however much money rufus has, he isn't that.

so i think it's a grey area, like, YES, the humphreys have wealth related privilege (i don't know if this can be said for v, because honestly we don't know much about her living situation, but we do know that she works as a waitress for a bit in s1, and also that she's homeschooled, so she isn't shelling out big $$ for school fees.) but also dan and jenny are treated as 'less than' because they are considered nobodies.

and i feel like THAT is the angle the show should have taken. not "i am oppressed because i am not rich" but rather, "everyone at school alienates me and treats me different and it's making things so difficult for me." whenever people say that dan and jenny acted like they were more oppressed than they actually were i'm like. they were both, in different ways, made to feel small and insecure and hopeless, at school? like of COURSE they're gonna feel victimised. dan is treated like he doesn't exist, and jenny is treated so horribly that i don't even have an adjective. like. i think the writing of the show would've been much stronger if it had focused on THAT and not made it a class thing.

i haven't watched the reboot beyond ep02, so i'm not gonna comment on that.

so yeah, i don't think it was 'cosplaying poor' as much as it was 'showing wealth related stuff extremely inaccurately.' like an anon told me, portraying nyu as community college is super inaccurate, as well. and it makes no sense? like i don't know why they had to do this and why they couldn't just... shoot at a regular community college. gossip girl 2007 did not care for representing poor people at all, like, if you watch the show you can tell that it just luxuriates in this aesthetic of like: more food than anybody can eat at every meal. so many luxuries. unnecessarily expensive things everywhere. like the show was very much luxury porn. to me it felt like it wasn't cosplaying poor as much as it was offering people a chance to wank off to the rich. & maybe because of that, the humphreys weren't allowed to be poorer. gg 2007 wasn't supposed to represent all of NY, it was supposed to represent the uber rich elite. and then you have dan and jenny humphrey, and vanessa abrams. they weren't allowed to be rich, because we needed a class conflict. but they weren't allowed to be poor, either, because this show was all about rich people aesthetics. so we got something weird & in the middle instead.

people forget that chuck was canonically a billionnaire - like, that is a LOT of money. and he is dan & jenny's peer! sadly, i think solely because of THAT, a lot of the oppression the humphreys face... checks out. like chuck being shitty to both dan and jenny - he' has an unethical, absurd, uncomparable-to-whatever-the-humphreys-have amount of money. he can do whatever he wants & buy his way out of there. rufus humphrey's ten thousand dollars or whatever amount he mentions are like pocket change to that guy. if jenny is gonna be treated like a commodity by everyone around her, do her upper middle class roots and expensive loft really matter? well, not do they matter as much as like. can they protect her? (we've watched the show. we know the answer is no.)

re: the characters of colour... i think it's subjective. i ADORE raina, and honestly, if we'd had a NJBC that was nate, serena, blair & raina, the show would've actually been AMAZING. like raina was such a cool character to me - i liked that she was driven, passionate, intelligent, sensitive, caring, fun-loving, thoughtful.... she wasn't on the show for long, but her character felt really solid and fleshed out. i remember a review (idk who wrote this one) in which someone felt that raina's character was "lazy" because a lot of her traits and her backstory paralleled chuck, but i strongly disagree. on raina, those traits were interesting. on chuck, any backstory and larger motive felt like a carpet to cover the dust that was his predatory nature, and to me, felt forced and off. like. this dude assaulted people, i don't care about his daddy issues. but raina seemed SO amazing. her backstory actually fit her personality and gave her depth, and to me, didn't feel forced.

i liked ursula, too! she was a really minor character, but she had a whole arc, and i liked that a LOT. her friendship with serena was very cute! i sadly do not remember jane. i think she was... someone's assistant? but i don't remember who. but i agree with you about raina and ursula, their arcs were very interesting and did not end up being about racial trauma & all that, which, like you said, is refreshing when done right.

that said, i think blair's minions were, uh, an example of blair's racism, and i think it would've been cool if the show unpacked that. blair uses her minions as a status symbol - her 17th birthday at kati's place which is anime themed (?) leaves a bad taste in my mouth because it feels very tokenising of a culture that blair isn't a part of? it would be different if blair treated her minions with respect and dignity and like they were her equals and peers, but she doesn't. the word "minions" itself makes me flinch because it's such a "oh you're inferior" kind of word. it felt to me very much like - they never got to be characters in their own right. they solely existed to prop up blair. and i think that is racist. there was a sense of "Oh, I can't be racist! I have a Black friend and an Asian friend" from Blair - like that's what kati & is were to her. and i think that is a big problem, especially glossed over like that.

i also do think that racial stuff doesn't always need to be the focus! but i don't think it can ever be completely ignored, either. an example of something that is maybe unintentionally racist, but racist nonetheless, is how dan cuts vanessa out of his life entirely but forgives his white friends for treating him farrrr worse. it's an inherent double standard, because dan kind of went "oh yeah. my threshold for white people fucking me over is really high, but if my Black best friend who's so close we're practically family does something even slightly wrong i'm going to cut her out of my life 4ever." did the writers realise this? i don't know. maybe they just didn't think about it. but this is exactly the sort of double standards and racist bullshit that woc, especially Black women, have to face irl (though of course i don't need to tell you that at all), except here, the narrative doesn't even address that, hey, maybe dan's being a dick by reacting this way. and i think that's a problem, too.

[pariiahs]

⧼   susanna thompson, cisfemale, she/her   /   a burning hill by mitski + the regularity of being the only woman in the room, pressed pastel pantsuits, an unchanging sense of style, the same haircut since the early 90s, fourteen hour days in the office, returning to an empty home, a glass of red shared with an old housecat and unanswered letters from fairweather family members and forgotten friends ⧽  

━━   hey, isn’t that FLAVIA SCRIMGEOUR? i read a daily prophet article on them, once ; the SIXTY-TWO year old pureblood WITCH is a RAVENCLAW alumnus who has gone on to be a MINISTER OF MAGIC CANDIDATE (FORMERLY HEAD OF DEPARTMENT OF INTERNATIONAL MAGICAL CO-OPERATION). i’ve heard they can be quite CLEVER & CONFIDENT, but i don’t know… they came off very COLD & CALCULATING in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it?

find more details & wanted connections under the cut:

KARKAROFF NO MORE, VOTE FOR SCRIMGEOUR !!

You know Flavia’s older brother — Rufus Scrimgeour, former Head Auror and Minister of Magic who was tortured and eventually murdered by Lord Voldemort. He made a name for himself hunting down Dark Wizards and tossing them in Azkaban to rot. When he found himself in the position of Minister, he valued appearances over truth and did all he could to convince the public that unlike his predecessor he had things under control. He did not have things under control and in the end, it cost him his life.

Losing her brother was a bit like a bee sting. It hurt, at first. It was the shock more than anything. But put some ice on it, applied numbing ointment, you forget about it soon enough. They weren’t that close. Not anymore 

As children, Rufus and Flavia were each other’s playmates and confidants. They had to be. Their parents were so busy, with their important work they needed to attend to and their appearances they needed to keep. 

When Rufus left for school, it was the end of them being the best of friends. She would join him just a year later, but they were in different houses and they found themselves living separate lives. During breaks, they would find themselves in the house still living separate lives. After school, the distance continued to grow between Flavia and her brother and her parents. It wasn’t that they didn’t get along, quite the opposite. They were all workaholics. Workaholics who respected other workaholics, who didn’t see to touch base with family outside of holidays and emergencies. When Flavia’s parents died, she and Rufus nearly stopped talking completely  — their relationship persisted through professional interactions alone 

Flavia prides herself on being well-read. She is driven by the desire to be the brightest and most powerful person in the room  — even if others are not aware of the significant power she wields. 

She found herself in the Ministry fresh out of school. She didn’t know what she wanted to do immediately, but she excelled at diplomacy. She knew how to read people, how to tell them what they wanted to hear, and push them in the directions that sited her. She was a born natural politician. Her knowledge of and sensitivity towards other cultures lead her into the international sphere, and with plenty of time and hard work she found herself at the head of her department. 

It cost her plenty. She can’t tell you the last night she slept more than four hours. Her closest friend is her assistant and her elderly, senile cat (Artemisia, after the first female Minister of Magic). Once upon a time she was married. She had a child. They left her. She doesn’t blame them. 

The sacrifices, the hours wasted, the energy spent...it makes sense why she would value her work so much. Why she would work so hard to cement the strides she has made in magical international relationships. Why she would decide to step away from the international stage and turn her full attention back home. For once, the international community can fend for itself. Her own home is on the verge of crumbling. All thanks to the same imbeciles who took her brother’s life, who killed him just as he was coming to finally be recognized for his time and energy and sacrifices. 

It’s time for her to make a move she has long dreamed of  — she’s running for office, and she does not intend to lose. 

wanted connections

CAMPAIGN STAFF / VOLUNTEERS

FORMER COWORKERS 

[ego-driven-one-wing-angel]

FF VII - Tseng Headcanons | #1

A/N: No one asked for this, (at least I don’t think anyone did?) But I was in the mood to write some fluffy Tseng so I hope you don’t mind!!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Tseng isn’t much for affection, but he does shows his appreciation in a number of ways only he’d think of. Sometimes it’s in the form of complimenting you either by intelligence or physical means (I.e. “you’re very beautiful today,” or “That’s an intelligent observation y/n.”, helping you out of sticky situations, helping you get back on your feet after financial trouble. It’s all professional in a sense, but that’s just who Tseng is in general

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Tseng’s friendships are all built up from colleagues, so you’d most likely would have worked with him to get a bit closer to him as a person. As a friend, he’s usually your more honest, straight-to-the-point man who will tell you as it is. He’ll give the best advice, and someone you could always count on in times of need.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Not much of a cuddly guy. In fact, the first time he’s ever experienced cuddling was when he was with you, how you nestled into the crook of his neck, eyes shut as the room went silent. He’ll be unnerved about the whole deal, but he won’t push you off. He’ll just let you sleep in his arms until you wake, but he’ll be a bit awkward through your nap. Since he would have no idea where to place his hands without waking you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Tseng is all business. He’s not planning on settling down. If he somehow ends up in a relationship with you, the plans for a family, children, the whole-white picket fence idea is still just as slim.

When it comes to cooking, he’s more of the bland-type cooks. He doesn’t put his heart and soul into it like many others, so food just ends up being subsistence to stay alive, that’s it. Many of his meals are simple and easy, and he won’t make dinner a huge deal.

However, when it comes to cleaning, this guy is your man. Not obsessive about it, but he’ll make sure everything is neat and orderly. The type to have his linens pressed every day, to make sure every pen has a spot on his desk, drawers organized unlike you’ve ever seen. Being clean and orderly is part of his job, so his apartment will look better than a five-star hotel.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He would be straight to the point about it. Discuss issues the two of you have been having, going over why. He’s not going to give you nonsense to worry about and have an emotional turmoil over it. If it’s time for a break up, he’ll be the one to give out the news with a quick fashion.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Tseng is committed in the job, not relationships. There’s a hard chance he’s going to propose, even slimmer? A big marriage. If you happen to capture his heart, he’ll probably request the wedding to be small, perhaps elope just to keep it out of the public’s eye. He’s personal and private, and making huge deals out of something he doesn’t fully understand is a no-go.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s a gentle guy when he wants to be. Emotionally more so. He’ll try to understand your side of things, getting a full picture on all your problems and concerns and even opinions on his own matters. It’s not a normal occurrence when he opens up about anything, so when he does, enjoy it while it lasts. It won’t happen for a while.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Hugs? He won’t do it. But if you happen to grab him long enough to get a hug, he won’t push you off necessarily, but he’ll be awkward when you part. Maybe a light red would dust his cheeks, but he’ll try to regain his composure as he’s walking away.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Tseng probably could go his whole life without saying the word “love”. He’s the type of person to say it either too late, or not at all.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Tseng rarely gets jealous, if at all. He’s understanding in that sense, and won’t allow himself to let his emotions hinder him in any way negative if he can help it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are usually soft, and careful. He lacks experience in that department, so he relied heavily on you to lead the way. But his favorite? He won’t admit it, with his persona and all, but he tends to love when you give him a simple peck on the cheek. Sometimes in public, his ears will warm up to a crimson, and he’ll straighten out his tie as if the peck wasn’t worth anything, but later on, he’ll place his fingers where your lips met, and the sweetest memory will cause his lips to curve just a little.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Tseng is pretty straight-forward when it comes to the smaller humans, he tries not to be awkward,  but he tends to not understand children as well as he should. He treats them much like adults, which sometimes works in his favor as the children will come and have their questions answered without fluff and lies embedded in them.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)     

Tseng is up bright an early, adjusting the cuffs on his sleeves, inspecting his appearance, making sure it’s overall well done and tidy. Followed by a quick breakfast and finally one last check with his suit before he leaves. It’s usually fast paced, and it follows a very strict routine (one he’s had since he started working), so have fun waking up by his alarm every morning at five am.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are much different. Usually it’s time to wind down and relax from the stress of Shinra when he returns. He still maintains his usual stoic and professional manner, cleaning, setting out his suits to be taken to the cleaners, prepare for the next morning to repeat the process all over again. But when it’s all said and done, he’ll sit on his love seat to relish in the day, and you’re free to sit next to him. Fitting yourself right in the crook of his neck as you take a moment to rest. (Again, cue awkward cuddling questions)

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Tseng will be the type to reveal things through actions slowly. The little things like how he organizes his desk, how he writes in silence when you pop into his office for a quick surprise, the barely noticeable smile when you make him dinner or give him a snack he hadn’t ask for. He’s not an open person, so to understand how he works requires the utmost dedication on noticing small details.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Anger is sparse. Cool, calm and collected is his mode of operation.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Tseng has the sharpest memory in the Turks. He’ll remember every important detail about you whether you tell him or not. Reading people is his forte, so he’ll notice the tiniest things before you even do. Like how you take your tea/coffee, what your favorite pajamas are to wear to bed, the particular brush you use for your hair. He’s just as interested in you as you are him.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite memories of you would have to be the most simplistic ones. The times where it’s peaceful like having a dinner with just the two of you, or taking a nap together on the couch/bed. It’s some of the most mundane moments, but some of his favorite to remember through the turmoil he experiences every day.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Tseng doesn’t believe in being protected. He’s the shield if it ever comes down to it. Have you seen how protective he is with Rufus Shinra? Same things apply to you. He wouldn’t dare let a fly hurt you, and if someone happens to come after you, Tseng would be a formidable opponent indeed.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Everyday tasks are done in order under a schedule. It’s hard to be pulled out of routine when he’s done it so long, so he most likely won’t stop unless he has to. Other things such as anniversaries, gifts, important dates? He’ll remember them, written neatly in his calendar, but he won’t make the biggest of deals about them.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Previously, I mentioned his mind is on par with remembering everything, but only if he puts it on his calendar. If he doesn’t write it down somewhere, this poor boy will literally forget the next day.

When you’re trying to sleep, he has to check his alarm has been set, two, three, five times. The glare of his cellphone as he makes sure the alarm has been set.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Tseng prefers things polished and pressed. From his suit, tie, hair, skin, everything is cleaned and prepped prior to leaving for work. It’s not that he wants to be conveniently attractive, it’s just a part of his job.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

If you were with him for a long time, yes. If it was only for a few years, he’d be upset over it, but he wouldn’t cry nor grieve properly. It’s a part of the job, he says.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Tseng gives off health-nut vibes somewhat. He’s not incredibly obsessed, but he tends to choose things that are healthy and keeps his body well.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

In general, messes. If there’s a way to get him irritated and unnerved, messy areas will do the trick. ESPECIALLY in his home. 

In partners? He’s not a fan of those who are overly confident, especially if they don’t have the means to prove it.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Unbeknownst to most, he’s restless. Moving constantly at night all hours. Having to even go as far as moving to the couch or bench to try and sleep there. A few hours later he’ll move back to the bed, but he despises the idea he can’t get a normal night’s rest. 

TAGS:@watermeloncavill​ @moonlighttreetops 

[willow-salix]

TAG WIP game. I was tagged by @hedwigstalons to share a line or paragraph from my current WIP.

I'm usually pretty good in the fact that I work on one thing at a time, so I don't have that many hanging around undone, but I do have lots of random ideas in my notes which I can share too.

I've been working pretty hard on all my fun "Isolation on Tracy Island" series of random posts which I've been sharing on the Gerry Anderson Podcast Facebook group and on Ao3, so I've not been getting as many chapters out as I wanted to.

I've got a start of a new chapter to Opposites Attract :

John watched as Selene wandered aimlessly around the lounge, picking up the random items that his family seemed to scatter the length of the house if they were in a room for more than five minutes and tidying them away.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't still worried about her. She'd been better since her talk with his father, more responsive and more like her usual affectionate self, but unless someone was actively engaging with her or she had something to occupy her thoughts she was quiet, too quiet for his liking. Where she would usually be the first person to insert herself into a conversation or to offer to help, but now she hung back, sitting quietly until she was spoken to.

He and his brothers had done all they could to keep her busy and included in everything they did, but there was only so much time they could devote to her. He could understand hee, while she wasn't numb with grief anymore she was having to process, to switch her view to a world where her father no longer existed in it and while Rufus hadn't been a very active part in her life, she was still feeling the loss greatly.

He and Scott watched her like hawks, constantly on the alert for a change in her moods. They saw the way she could be joining in with a conversation one minute, even sharing a laugh with them or watching a movie and without warning her eyes would fill with tears, as if she'd suddenly remembered or felt guilty for forgetting and enjoying herself. She would hurriedly brush them away, or make an excuse to leave the room for a few moments, not wanting them to see. But they knew and their hearts hurt for her.

This is the latest "Isolation Update" :

Day 29 of isolation on Tracy Island and I'm beginning to regret my life choices. 

Picture the scene. I was innocently wandering, minding my own business, in search of a shady place to settle down and read my book, with nothing but the relaxing sound of the ocean for company...

A window somewhere up in the villa crashed open, shattering the peace as someone screamed at the top of their lungs. 

"CANNONS!" 

"Gahhh," I squeaked in shock, spinning round to see who was attacking. My foot slipped on a wet towel that had been left on the side of the pool and as if in slow motion I skidded sideways and went headfirst into the deep end. 

I flailed and flopped my way upwards and came spluttering to the surface, managing to tread water as I swiped the wet hair back from my face. 

"What the bloody hell was that?" I yelled, splashing my way towards the side of the pool. 

I looked up to see a head vanish from the window. 

"Gordon Tracy you are a menace to society!" I screamed up at him. "Someone help me out!" 

It was Virgil who dragged me out and got me a towel. 

"Why did we show them Les Mis? How dumb are we?" I sighed. "We should have been more careful. We should know them better than this."

"Everything is dangerous with those two, they can turn anything into trouble. If we stopped them watching everything that could influence them we'd never watch anything again."

"True," I acknowledged, "urghhh, I need to go dry off. I'm just glad I didn't have my phone in my pocket."

Honestly, those two had been a nightmare the whole night after they watched our last musical offering. They had managed to pick up key phrases and moments and had taken to blurting them out at random moments. 

I'd been rudely awoken by Alan banging on the bedroom door shouting, "You at the barricades, listen to this!" And they wonder why I lock the door at night...

Gordon had walked into the kitchen late and, finding himself all alone, and more importantly to him, most of the breakfast offerings already eaten, had begun to mournfully sing,"Empty chairs at empty tables."

Alan had tried to get John to help programme in some new code to one of his games but when he was told he'd have to wait until later, had begun to bug him with random video messages. In each one he was singing "One more day all on my own. One more day with him not caring." 

Gordon had annoyed Scott by loitering around in One's hanger where Scott was helping with some maintenance, waited until he dropped a spanner from high up on the nose cone, then yelled "We need as much furniture as you can throw down!" 

But this last one had gone too far, I do not like suddenly finding myself soaking wet, especially not from an unplanned dip in the pool. They were just lucky real witches don't melt. 

"Just be grateful they aren't dressing in fishnets and inviting us to see what's on their slab," V reminded me. I shuddered at that mental picture. 

"They're going to be impossible to live with, aren't they?" 

"More than they already are? Probably. But luckily for us they get bored easily. We just gotta wait it out. Not like we haven't got the time."

That sounded like a solid plan to me, and so far it's working well. I've been hiding out in this Pod for the past three hours. The WiFi reception is terrible, but I've got access to Virgil's secret snack stash, I've got two cans of Cherry Coke and a damp book from its plunge into the pool, and it's quiet. And at the moment that's all I need. Maybe if I stay here long enough someone else will cook dinner. 

I have this as a note: John and Selene back on the island, and every time they try to kiss or be affectionate Jeff kinda just pops up and hovers there like… 😳😉🙄🤔😕

And this note: Selene is on a diet ready for the wedding, she's eating nothing but salads and healthy stuff. John and the boys are on a stealth mission to sneak in junk food.

Ive got lots more notes but I can't share them as that will give away too much of how the story will continue.

I'm also trying very hard to get Selene and John to behave and not keep trying to grope each other and demand I write spicy stuff, knock it off you two, I'm too busy for that!

I'm too busy because I've been researching for days to write questions for this weeks GA Zoom quiz, Captain Scarlet this week, and it's been testing me as much as it will the people tonight.

So, I nominate @samantha-tvandmovies and @hodgehegposts to share their WIP, sorry if you've been tagged before.

[splendidlyimperfect]

Sting’s entire life changed when he was eleven years old and his best friend Rogue told a secret that he’d promised to keep. Taken away from the father who abused him and the best friend who’d tried to save him, Sting tried to start a new life with his uncle. But the trauma wasn’t easy to escape, and eventually Sting turned to drinking to forget the things that hurt.

Now he’s an adult, and he hasn’t been sober in years. But when drinking nearly kills him and a near-stranger saves his life, Sting has a chance to turn his life around, and maybe become the man that Rogue deserves to love.

Chapter Summary: Sting and Rogue's relationship progresses, and Natsu makes an important discovery.

Chapters (17/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel & Sting Eucliffe, Sting Eucliffe & Weisslogia   Additional Tags: modern au, childhood friends, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, child abuse, alcoholism, drug use, recovery

**A/N: In light of the protests and the horrific actions of the police – currently and historically – I wanted to take the time to comment on the impact of those events on this story. First of all, I wholeheartedly support Black Lives Matter and ALL of the protests, including (and especially) defunding the police. Cops are bastards who use their power to hurt, oppress and murder people. It’s a racist institution that needs to be dismantled for so many reasons.

So, why is this story heavily feature the police if I feel that way? Honestly, it wasn’t originally going to. Sting wasn’t supposed to be a major character in how to become a wildfire and he didn’t have a backstory when I started to write him. Then he started to become a source of safety and comfort for Gray; someone he could trust to help if he needed it. It was an ideal – someone who was powerful enough to change things, but kind enough to use that power for good.

Sting’s story here is one of someone using their trauma to help other people. It’s not representative of real life, and I recognize that this isn’t the kind of relationship that police have with people. It’s not the kind of relationship that I’ve had with the police either. It’s wishful thinking.

I had considered not finishing the story, but it’s important to me, so I’ve decided on this, instead. I’m going to continue to follow the plot of how to become a wildfire, and then Sting’s going to make some different decisions that will involve him leaving the police force and focusing on working with people and trauma instead. In addition, for each remaining chapter, I’m going to donate $20 to Black Lives Matter.**

-----

home \ ˈhōm noun : a familiar or usual setting: congenial environment also : the focus of one's domestic attention

.

xvii winter age twenty-four

.

Sting proposes to Rogue completely by accident.

“I can’t believe it’s been five years.” Sting stares down at the sobriety chip in his hand, running his thumb over the raised ‘V.’ They’re sitting up in the tree house in Rogue’s parent’s back yard, wrapped in a blanket to stave off the chilly winter air.

“You’ve come so far,” Rogue says, kissing Sting’s cheek and shuffling closer to him. Sting returns the kiss, then looks out across the yard toward the house. The lights are off – it’s just past midnight – but Sting remembers the view from when he’d slept up here as a little kid. He’d stay hidden, watching Rogue’s mom kiss his forehead and Rogue’s dad help him with homework, wondering why his dad didn’t love him the same way.

Continue reading on AO3

The memories ache. It’s worse than usual today, tugging at his stomach and making him feel untethered, and he grips the sobriety chip a little harder. Then Rogue’s hand closes around his and he runs his thumb gently across Sting’s wrist.

Sting exhales, turning his hand and sliding their fingers together so that the coin is pressed between their palms like a promise. Rogue leans in and kisses Sting’s nose, and the memories of being lost and lonely are replaced with a quiet, gentle affection.

“I love you,” Rogue says softly. “And I’m so proud of you.” He leans back and gazes at Sting, lips curved up in the smile that Sting’s loved for so long. It’s the same smile he’d give Sting when they were little – when he’d pop his head over the edge of the tree fort, dragging up a bag of snacks and making Sting feel safe.

“I love you, too.” Sting reaches out and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind Rogue’s ear. “Thank you.”

Rogue shakes his head, turning and pressing a kiss to Sting’s palm. “You did all the work,” he insists.

Sting shakes his head. “No, for…” He tips his head back to stare at the constellations through the roof of the tree fort. He feels six and eight and eleven and twenty-four all at the same time, and all of those versions of him are deeply, desperately in love with Rogue. “For being my home.”

Rogue kisses Sting’s hand again. “Always,” he says. The moonlight plays off his hair and casts shadows across his face, and his lips are warm, pressing against the flutter of Sting’s pulse in his wrist.

They sit in silence for a little bit, watching soft flakes of snow drift down to the ground and melt almost instantly.

“It’s weird,” Rogue says after a while. “Thinking about someone else living here.”

Sting nods. He can just see the edge of the ‘FOR SALE’ sign in the front yard, put up three days ago when Rogue’s mom had told him they were moving to a smaller house. The idea of someone else sitting in Rogue’s old room, someone else’s kids playing in the yard, someone else drawing on the driveway with chalk... it makes Sting feel empty, somehow.

“I wish...” Rogue sighs, voice trailing off as a puff of white into the night air. Sting tips his head, studying the expression on Rogue’s face. His brow is drawn, the same as when he’s doing the crossword in the mornings before he asks Sting what an eleven-letter word for ‘destiny’ is. His hand is warm, thumb tapping out an absent rhythm against the back of Sting’s fingers, and he kicks his legs in time to the beat.

“What?” Rogue asks, looking over at him, and Sting is suddenly hit by all of his memories of Rogue’s smile.

Five years old and hiding in the playground together, grinning at each other and digging in the sand.

Seven years old and kissing Rogue’s cheek while he holds a bouquet of dandelions Sting picked for him.

Nine years old, cuddled under a blanket and giggling while reading ‘Hardy Boys’ books with a flashlight.

Eleven years old and lying up in the fort, listening to music and wishing they could be together forever.

“Marry me.” The words tumble out before Sting can think about them and he watches Rogue’s eyes go wide. “Marry me, and we’ll buy the house from your parents. We can live here.” Sting can feel his hand shaking in Rogue’s and he can barely breathe, but it feels so right. “We’ll get all the Pokémon games, and we can buy ice cream all the time, just like we promised. Remember?”

Rogue nods slowly, expression somewhere between stunned and ecstatic, and Sting can feel himself starting to cry, even though the smile that’s creeping across his face. “Marry me,” he says again, softer this time. “We’ll make a home here. And maybe…” He takes a deep breath. “Maybe our kids can play here, someday. Just like us.”

“Sting,” Rogue breathes, and then they’re kissing desperately as the snow falls around them. Sting’s hand finds its way into Rogue’s hair and he pulls Rogue closer.

“I love you,” he whispers, a promise against Rogue’s lips. “Marry me?”

“Yes,” Rogue says, laughing wetly as he presses their foreheads together. “Yes. You’re my favorite person.”

Sting holds Rogue tight, not bothering to wipe away the tears, and whispers, “You’re my favorite person, too.”

~

Natsu cries when Sting asks him to be the best man.

“I thought I was the one who cried at everything,” Sting teases as Natsu wipes his face with his sleeve. The picture on the computer screen is a bit blurry, but it’s better than a phone call.

“Shut up,” Natsu grumbles. “I’m allowed to have feelings, too, asshole.”

Sting laughs, swallowing down the lump in his own throat and blinking to keep back the tears. “So, is that a yes?” he asks.

“Of course.” Natsu looks up at him with wet eyes and a bright smile. “When’s the wedding?”

“We’re, um... not sure yet.” Sting leans back in his chair as Lector pads into the room and hops up on his lap. “I kinda proposed by accident.”

“How the hell did you manage that?” Natsu asks, laughing, then shakes his head. “Why don’t you tell me in person – I’m gonna be in town next weekend for Laxus’ bachelor party.”

Sting nods. He’d gotten the invitation as well – a simple text with a date, time, and the address of a nearby bar. It’s been sitting on his phone for nearly a week, unanswered.

“You don’t have to come,” Natsu says gently. “He’ll understand. We can have brunch or something together later.”

Sting reaches into his pocket and fiddles with the chip there. He’s been around alcohol since getting sober – Rogue’s parents have a drink of wine with dinner occasionally, or Rufus will get a beer when they’re out for lunch. This is different, though, and Sting has grown enough now to know that he can’t handle it.

“Brunch sounds good,” he says, looking back up at Natsu and smiling. “Text me when you’re here and we’ll figure something out.”

~

It’s nearly two o’clock on Sunday morning when Sting’s phone goes off. He groans, rubbing his face and reaching out blindly for the side table to grab it. Natsu’s name flashes on the screen and Sting sighs.

“I meant in the actual morning, dumbass,” he grumbles, moving to turn the ringer off. Then the words under Natsu’s name register and he’s suddenly wide awake.

Ellie is here.

Sting pushes himself up on one elbow, blinking the sleep from his eyes and opening the message. A blurry photo is attached to it of a young guy with short, black hair, leaning against the bar with a drink in his hand.  

He’s here, Natsu’s message says. I found him.

[ansgar-martinsson]

The Best Intentions - Part 21

“I know aptitude when I see it. Selfish of me, really. Get them whilst they’re young and all that. Get my pickings of the talent pool early on.” Ansgar replied. He leaned on the edge of her desk, his leg dangling, his shined brown loafer just scraping the floor. A curl of his fingers and he inspected his nails, trying to appear nonchalant as his mind worked. He debated revealing what he was about to say, what he was about to tell her. He knew he’d pressed her buttons enough intentionally that afternoon, and he wondered if exposing her to more of his… his humanity… would send her reeling.

Which is exactly what he wanted to do, to show her the reality that was himself, to draw her out of her shell, to draw her deeper into him; but he also knew when too much was too much. He’d read her. Read her like Shakespeare for Dummies just how much his very presence in front of her brother, in front of her nephews, in front of her entire family rattled her. He couldn’t help but wonder how she would react, how beautifully insane she would be when he met mother for the first time.

For that was something else he knew – a simple corporate background check can reveal a plethora of information – that she lived with her mother. That her mother was ill. That she cared for her mother. And that endeared her to him, but he wouldn’t admit that to her… not yet. He wouldn’t admit that it made him a little jealous, actually - as Ansgar’s father had died young, and his mother had all but ignored him in the past few years. Shelved him and his mad life in favour of the stability of Magnus and his family. Which was fine. Ansgar understood the doting grandmother role, Ansgar knew he could never gift Joanna with grandchildren himself, but, even as tough and as sharp and as jaded as he was - sometimes a man just needed to talk to his mother.

And his own was distant. Unavailable. Uninterested.

Something, after Faye left him, he swore he would never be to those he cared for.

“Her nephew,” he began, still picking one nail with his thumbnail. “Faye’s nephew, Rufus. He was like that. Like Adrian and Hugo. Brilliant, curious, mechanically inclined. Genius level, nearly.” He brought the fingernail to his teeth, scraping a tiny fleck of dirt out from beneath the corona. “I had him in my tutoring program a few years back. He excelled. Designed a working lift crane of all things - something that I ran by my own engineers. Had it built, and now I use it on smaller-scale projects.”

“Do you… do you still see him at all?” She turned around then, crossed her arms over her chest and rest back against her bookcase.

Ansgar sighed. “No,” he said. “I had a row with his father shortly after Faye left me. Threatened to kill the man, actually, so… no. I haven’t seen Rufus in two years. He’ll be fifteen this April. Nearly grown.”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” she said.

“Eh,” he shrugged, pushing himself off the desk. “It’s no matter now, is it?” He strode over to her, took her by the shoulders and planted a gentle yet firm kiss upon her lips, opening up to her quiet whimper, and the caress of her hands on his back. “I will see you at eight, darling,” he said. “Be ready by ten minutes before.”

“Why?”

“We’re having a quiet night in tonight, my place. At eight. Dinner - casual, of course - and a film in my home theatre, and whatever follows.” He smiled broadly, teeth pulling sensually at his lower lip. “Mickhail will pick you up at ten minutes until eight.” His finger traced the line of her cheek to caress over her bottom lip. “Don’t leave him waiting. He gets very cranky if he’s made to wait.”

“I won’t.”

Wink. “I know.”

****

And true to his command, Ansgar’s door chime sounded at eight o’clock on the dot. He grinned broadly as he opened the door to the elevator lobby, but that grin morphed quickly into a breathy look of astonishment, of pure desire, at the very sight of her. “Jesus, Joline,” he blurted, “you look…amazing.”

And she did, dressed as she was in a leather trimmed black blouse and a tight pair of studded and decorated jeans, the cuffs resting just at her ankles above a pair of high heeled shoes. Not the Louboutins, that time, but Ansgar found her own shoes to be somehow sexier. Her hair was done up in a high, fluffed-out ponytail, wisps of hair caressed her simply made up cheeks. A bit of eyeliner, some blush and a bright red lipstick.

“I’m casual. You said casual,” she dipped her head shyly, batting her eyelashes at him.

“I did, didn’t I?” his voice broke slightly. “Yes. You… you’re perfect.”

“As are you,” she smirked, fingering the collar of his blue linen shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of black jeans, held up by a leather belt and a decorative, yet tasteful belt buckle.

“Come in, please,” he said, gesturing. “I….” he hesitated. “I’ve a bit of a surprise for you.”

She smiled as she stepped past him into the foyer. “Oh, really?”

“Yes.” He chewed his lips together, like a small child upon entering a toy store for the first time. “Come with me.” He took her hand and crossed the expansive entry way. He turned her, took her by the shoulders and sat her down on a white leather chaise near the piano. He bent to her and indulged in a long, ardent kiss, licking his lips at the end of it.

“So what’s my surprise?” She whispered against his lips.

“I never did get to play for you,” he said. “Last night. We… never used the piano for its intended purpose.” He shuddered, remembering how he had taken her over the closed lid of the polished ebony Steinway, how she rode him as he sat on the leather piano bench, her legs wrapped around his waist and how she…. oh!

“No, we never did,” she smiled. “Are you… are you going to play for me now? Is that my surprise?”

He nodded, his smile almost shy, his eyes blinking, averting hers. “Only if you want me to.”

He felt her hands, warm and soft and gentle, on either side of his face. She pushed, gentle pressure to turn his gaze to hers. She pulled, drawing him closer to her, drawing him to where she could grace the tip of his nose with a soft, pillowy press of her lips. “It’s perfect. Yes. I want you to. I want to hear you play…. you fucking virtuoso.”

He barked a laugh. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did,” she shrugged. “Mind you it was in the throes of passion, but you know what they say about truth in it.”

“I thought it was truth in jest.”

“Jesting, fucking, it’s all the same.”

He laughed outright then. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He nodded, readying himself. “Okay.” He sat down on the piano bench, playfully tossing an imaginary set of tuxedo tails out from behind him, making her laugh again before he pulled the bench forward, laid his hands on the piano, and breathed.

In.

Out.

And with a roll of his hands, a closing of his eyes, a hunch of his shoulders and a melt of his muscles, he played.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpRzZojcP40

As became Ansgar’s modus operandi with her, what Joline expected him to play on the piano and what he actually played were polar opposites. Worlds apart, in fact. The man continued to knock her expectations off kilter and kept her guessing, continuously breaking the barrier down of the compartment she tried to keep him in.

After the afternoon she had, trying to keep him away from her family, his showing interest and even favor in them, Ansgar was more than a one night stand. He called her on her deflection for what it was and allowed her into his life, even if superficially. Who would do the same for a one night stand? As she sat, feet tucked up beside her on his lounge (judging by the amount of leather it took to make, cost more than her mother’s mini Cooper), she’d already exceeded the typical one encounter by double.

She had to try to remain distant and aloof to keep her heart. For one thing she knew for sure, Ansgar Martinsson could break her heart, devastate her without taking the pleasure in her utter destruction. As the proverbial saying went, the opposite of love wasn’t hate, it was indifference. As soon as he got his fill of their faux rebound, he’d forget about her.

All she needed to do was keep her head, stick to her word of no expectations, and enjoy the sex for however long he wanted her around. It would be so much easier to do that if he wasn’t so considerate of her, of her nephews, of her family. It was already complicated it with offering to tutor or find a tutor for her nephews. She couldn’t allow him to hurt them.

The dulcet, tremulous somber music poured from his fingers and his piano instead of some great showoff symphony of some well-known composer. Instead he chose a soothing, reflective piece with a smattering of a hopeful melody of playful high notes. This wasn’t a flashy complicated piece of an expert, this was beauty in simplicity, a classic case of less was more.

As for his skill in music, Ansgar’s boasts were on the mark, earning him every right to brag. He played as a virtuoso, focused, dedicated, respectful of the music. A lovely example of an instrument making its player shine, the piano a mere extension of him. Because this wasn’t about showing off or impressing his date (which he did effortlessly), his eyes remained on his hands or closed, his focus solely on the music and the product of the sound he made. He didn’t steal any glances her way to see how she responded or wink at her, and somehow that fact pointed to his authenticity as a musician.

When he was done, Joline applauded his efforts, grinning, appreciative that he didn’t show off like a rock star. “That was a beautiful piece, Sgar. Truly. Thank you for playing it for me.”

He bowed his head in humility, a rare moment for him. “I’m glad that you liked it.” He pushed to his feet after swinging sidesaddle on the piano bench. “Are you surprised?”

She nodded, biting her lower lip.

“It was written by my favorite composer.”

“I can tell.” Joline patted the lounge beside her, asking him to sit with her. “Your respect for it comes through. It makes sense.”

Ansgar sat beside her, his arm slung over the back, his hand hovering by her shoulder, cheating his body in her direction. “What makes sense?”

“What you do. There’s structure and mathematics and building materials in music as there are in construction,” she stated easily. “Music is made of notes, of course… but rhythms and melodies, chords and progressions, counterpoints and dynamics. Construction is about textures and structures, angles and perspectives.”

“I suppose that’s true. How do you know so much about it?” His fingers reached up and touched some of the strands of her ponytail.

She looked down at her folded hands in her lap. “My roommate in uni studied music, a concert pianist actually. I might have sat in a few music theory classes.”

He chuckled. “Did you make it a habit to sit in on classes outside your concentration?”

She laughed, her head angling coquettishly. “Not a habit, no. But there’s some overlap in my major, so I dipped my toe in the musical waters.”

“AH! You’re surrounded by musicians in your studies and in your job.”

She rolled her eyes, “Don’t worry, I won’t ask for hazard pay or overtime. I like the way you play.” She gestured for him to give her his hands when she waved her hands in her direction.

Ansgar willingly gave her both, pulling his arm down form the elevated position.

Joline tilted her head up and on a slant after tracing his elegant fingers with her own. “I always found musicians hands to be the sexiest.”

“Is that so?”

“Truly.”

“Is that why you fell into theatre management? To be around the musicians?”

Joline unraveled from her position, sliding her high heeled feet out from under to straight before her, slinging them over Ansgar’s lap. She felt more comfortable in his physical space and felt that familiar pull for his bedroom. “I wish I could claim that, but I’ve never been involved with a musician. Except for friends, of course… my roommate, my friends, my classmates. All musicians. With the most fascinatingly sexy hands. All of them.”

Ansgar layed his hands on her thigh, positioning them as if he played her like he did his Steinway, but he only brought her that little bit closer. “What was your uni like?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Typical, I guess. All night cram sessions, midnight runs to McDonalds for brain food, congregating in one room to play a board game or watch a film, mini refrigerators, ramen noodle dinners, empty pockets, endless laundry and schedules to clean the bathroom.”

“How did you learn that you wanted to be in theatre?”

She reclined back, pondering it for a moment, “Gosh, I don’t know. When the two show days didn’t kill me?” She laughed to herself, her mind reminiscing to try to answer his question. “My uni ran shows for four weeks, one performance on Thursday and Friday and two performances on Saturday and Sunday. I remember, we did a production of Oklahoma my sophomore year. I was stage manager, my first as stage manager. I had three assistant stage managers, fifty cast members, and a set designed by the devil himself. I remember lying on the floor of the green room between shows feeling so drained, the mental capacity to manage that many people and cues drained me. That’s when I discovered M&Ms.”

“The chocolates?”

“They’re mystical and magic. That’s what the M’s stand for, I think. I survived on M&Ms,” she said matter of fact, in all seriousness.

“You survived on a sugar high.”

“You call it sugar high, I call it the power of M&Ms. They still get me through rough seasons or runs. Don’t you have any rituals or things you swear by?”

Ansgar slid his hands up towards her hip, enjoying the feel of her soft denim and her firm flesh underneath. “Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I do.”

She gave him a comfortable lead, but he didn’t elaborate on that. She found her opportunity to inspect the jagged and raised flesh on his arm. The scar had caught her attention more than once, but she never got the chance to ask in their fever to get physical. “What happened here?” she asked quietly, caressing her hand up and down the uneven scar tissue.

[shtcablogs]

Rufus Humphrey is a Loser

In terms of characters on Gossip Girl, Rufus Humphrey is the absolute worst. Actually, let me retract that statement. Vanessa is the worst, but Rufus is a very close second. He’s a failing art gallery owner, father of Dan and Jenny, ex-husband of Lily, and former “rock star”. There are so many things I loathe about RH that I’ve decided to put it all in writing. Rufus is a grade A loser, and here’s why.

He takes real pride in being poor and thinks that having money makes you a terrible person.

He is always on his moral high horse and is constantly disappointed by everyone around him.

He didn’t realize that his wife left him in Season 1. She moved out and had an affair for months, and he was oblivious. 

After Jenny sabotages a charity event by putting on a fashion show of her new clothing line, he tries to get her arrested. He literally tried to send his own daughter to jail. Thankfully Lily was there to talk him out of it. 

He was Lily’s house bitch when they were married. A real trophy husband. 

He dated Ivy after she stole money from the entire family. 

He’s living in the past and thinks he’s still relevant because he was in a band in the 90′s. Band name “Lincoln Hawk”. Cool name. Not.

Rufus: “Guess whose dad is cool?” 

If you have to tell people you’re cool, odds are you’re not cool.

Rufus: “Maybe if musicians got off their blogs and picked up their guitars, the music business would be in better shape.”

Rufus: “You think I’d skip out on a room full of champagne and models? Are you forgetting I used to be a rock star?”

This is me digitally rolling my eyes.

He’s obsessed with being a “Humphrey”. I’m not sure why, you guys are known for being the middle-class wannabe family from Brooklyn.

Rufus: “Did my son just walk out before playing the Q on a double letter? That is so not the Humphrey way.”

Family Scrabble night. Such a Humphrey move.

Rufus: “Show that Celia Rhodes what us Humphrey men are made of.”

Rufus: “Oh, come on. You’re a Humphrey man. No daughter of Lily’s could ever resist.”

Again with the digital eye rolling.

He dresses like he got all his clothes on clearance at Goodwill.

Is he color blind? Is that a man purse?

Those jeans are not doing you any favors.

Turtleneck + look of overwhelming disapproval = The Rufus Humphrey 

The worst outfit of all. WTF is that tie? Sketchy brown pinstripe suit? Burn it all. 

He’s the king of man jewelry. Rufus Humphrey tried and failed to make chokers cool again.

Man jewelry is never a good look, especially when you’re over the age of 25. “Does this bracelet make me look hip?” Nah it makes you look like you’re in the throes of a midlife crisis.

He’s constantly being roasted. Rufus is the butt of everyone’s jokes, and rightfully so. I mean, just take a look at this Halloween costume he put together.

Rufus: “Since when were you the patron saint of former rock stars?” Lily: “Since when were you a rock star?”

Rufus: “At least you don't have to worry about sun damage and we don't have to spend the month of August with Eleanor and Cyrus on that cruise like they suggested. Can you imagine?” Blair: “I don't think the Principality of Monaco's yacht counts as a cruise, Mr. Humphrey.”

Rufus: “Admit it, you’re falling for me again.” Lily: “You’re right. It’s the low income tax bracket, the bad v-neck t-shirts, the awful jokes. I don’t know why your wife left you.”

Carol [sarcastically]: “Rufus, love the loafers. Are those Tod’s?”

Rufus: “I need to know how you and Jenny would feel if I went out tonight for a drink, with a woman.” Dan: “Well, I guess I’d feel like you shouldn’t wear that shirt or there will not be a second date.”

Eric: “And you want to be the cool rocker guy?” Rufus: “Come on, I was the cool rocker guy.” Eric: “Yeah, but now the penthouse, the art, the millionairess wife under house arrest doesn’t exactly scream street cred.”

Lily: “Rufus, what are you doing here? I thought we had security.”

He’s got a hard-on for waffles. Seriously, all the dude talks about is waffles.

Everyone is over your waffles, man.

Especially Jenny.

Congratulations, Rufus Humphrey. You’re America’s least favorite TV dad. Now please be a dear and whip me up some breakfast. Preferably waffles.

You know you love me. 

xoxo,

CA

[catonablog-blog-blog]

Tea v. Coffee: Caffeine Clash Greetings and salutations, dear readers! It's your ever-entertaining and coffee-loving pal, Rufus T. Flywheel, here to have a spirited discussion on a topic that has been the subject of debate for ages: Tea v. Coffee! That's right, we're diving headfirst into the caffeine clash to explore the virtues, vices, and all-around awesomeness of these two beloved beverages. Now, before we unfurl the banner of battle, let me make one thing clear: I adore coffee. The aroma, the flavor, the pick-me-up it provides—coffee is my faithful companion through thick and thin. But that doesn't mean I'm blind to the charms of its rival, tea. So, join me as we traverse the meandering pathways of taste, tradition, and caffeine content on this epic journey of Tea v. Coffee! Let's kick things off with a hotly debated topic: caffeine content. We all know that both tea and coffee contain caffeine, but the burning question is, which one packs a more potent punch? While coffee is renowned for its high caffeine content, with an average of 95 milligrams per 8-ounce cup, tea isn't a slouch either. Black tea boasts around 40-70 milligrams of caffeine per cup, while green tea hovers around 20-45 milligrams. So, if you're looking for an intense caffeine hit, the coffee camp might be your best bet. But if you prefer a milder lift, tea could be your cup of, well, tea! Moving on to flavor, both tea and coffee offer a delightful array of taste profiles that cater to a myriad of preferences. Coffee aficionados relish the robust, bold flavors of their favorite brew, with undertones of chocolate, nutty, or even fruity notes. On the other hand, tea connoisseurs savor the nuanced complexities of different tea varieties, from the floral notes of jasmine tea to the smoky richness of oolong tea. Each sip is a journey of discovery, a symphony of flavors that tantalize the taste buds and soothe the soul. But taste isn't the only factor in this caffeine clash—health benefits play a significant role in the Tea v. Coffee debate. Coffee has long been touted for its antioxidant properties and potential health perks, such as reducing the risk of certain diseases like Alzheimer's and Parkinson's. Tea, on the other hand, is celebrated for its array of health benefits, including boosting heart health, aiding in digestion, and even promoting weight loss. So, whether you're Team Coffee or Team Tea, you can rest assured that your beverage of choice is contributing to your overall well-being. Let's not forget the cultural significance of tea and coffee. Tea has a rich history steeped in tradition, from Japanese tea ceremonies to British afternoon tea rituals. It's a symbol of hospitality, relaxation, and camaraderie in many cultures around the world. Coffee, on the other hand, has its own vibrant culture, with coffee shops serving as hubs of creativity, conversation, and community. Whether you're sipping a cup of chai in India or enjoying an espresso in Italy, tea and coffee are more than just beverages—they're cultural touchstones that bring people together. Now, let's address the elephant in the room: caffeine jitters. We've all experienced that shaky, heart-pounding sensation after one too many cups of coffee, a side effect of caffeine overload. While tea contains less caffeine than coffee, it also offers a gentler, more sustained energy boost that avoids the crash and burn associated with excessive coffee consumption. So, if you're prone to caffeine sensitivity or are looking for a more balanced buzz, tea might be the way to go. In the realm of versatility, both tea and coffee shine bright. Coffee can be brewed in a multitude of ways—espresso, French press, pour-over, cold brew, you name it—each method yielding a unique flavor profile. Tea, too, offers a wealth of brewing techniques, from steeping loose leaves in a teapot to brewing matcha in a traditional whisked bowl. With endless possibilities for experimentation, tea and coffee cater to the adventurous spirit in all of us. As we near the end of our caffeine clash, it's clear that the Tea v. Coffee debate is far from settled. Each beverage has its strengths, its loyal following, and its place in the pantheon of beloved drinks. Whether you're a die-hard coffee connoisseur or a devoted tea aficionado, one thing is certain: the world would be a duller place without the aromatic allure of these soul-soothing beverages. So, dear readers, I invite you to raise your mugs in solidarity with your chosen brew, whether it's a steaming cup of java or a fragrant pot of tea. Let us celebrate the joys of caffeine, the wonders of flavor, and the camaraderie that comes from sharing a cup with a friend. After all, in the grand scheme of things, Tea v. Coffee isn't just a clash—it's a celebration of life's simple pleasures. Until next time, keep sipping, keep savoring, and keep the caffeine clash alive! Cheers, Rufus T. Flywheel

[everythingtimeless]

Historical Hour With Hilary: 1x08

As ever, catch up here. Otherwise, grab your cat-eye glasses and model rockets as we head back to the twentieth century and the moon landing of Apollo 11 on July 20, 1969, as the Time Team scramble to stop Flynn and Friends from turning it into Apollo 13 a year early.

As discussed in the episode, the Space Race was deeply tied into the politics of the Cold War and the dick-swinging between the United States and Russia to continue being chief dick in, well, space. (Don’t you just love how educational this is already?) The pressure was intense, and led to things like the whole-scale importation of Nazi rocket scientists, as discussed in my piece for 1x04, and the Apollo 1 fire, which killed its whole crew. Apollo 8, in December 1968, finally achieved lunar orbit, and Apollo 11, launched on July 16, 1969 (it took over three days to get to the Moon, this wasn’t a quick little ride there and back) was mounted on the Saturn V rocket designed by our friend, Wernher von Braun. So... yeah. We weren’t going to get through this post without the Nazis.

However, I think everyone will agree when I say let’s forget about the Nazis for a damn second, and talk about the fact that man got to the moon, and then got all the credit, but this would never have happened without woman hauling his ass there literally every step of the way. We of course meet the incomparable Katherine Johnson (in reality she wasn’t at NASA headquarters during the moon landing, but shhh), and as Rufus notes when they get back, there’s a movie about her. And if you’ve watched Hidden Figures, you have also heard of Dorothy Vaughan and Mary Jackson, but believe me, there are so many more, and they are just as incredibly amazing.

How about Margaret Hamilton, director of the MIT Instrumentation Lab and chief of software development for the Apollo spaceflight missions, who wrote the software for the mission (by hand -- check out the famous picture of her standing next to it, it’s as tall as she is) and pretty much invented the entire modern concept of software engineering as a field? How about Dr. Christine Mann Darden, who in her forty-year career became ”one of NASA's preeminent experts on supersonic flight and sonic booms” and was the first black woman promoted to the Senior Executive Service? Or Melba Roy Mouton, who was head of the group of “computers” in which Katherine and the others worked, and Assistant Chief of Research Programs at NASA's Trajectory and Geodynamics Division? The full list of women, many of them African-American, working at NASA between 1943-1970 has almost 200 entries, and continues to be updated. It’s no wonder that Margot Lee Shetterly, author of the book Hidden Figures on which the movie is based, writes:

For me, growing up in Hampton, Virginia, the face of science was brown like mine. My dad was a NASA lifer, a career Langley Research Center scientist who became an internationally respected climate expert. Five of my father’s seven siblings were engineers or technologists. My father’s best friend was an aeronautical engineer. Our next door neighbor was a physics professor. There were mathematicians at our church, sonic boom experts in my mother’s sorority and electrical engineers in my parents’ college alumni associations. There were also black English professors, like my mother, as well as black doctors and dentists, black mechanics, janitors and contractors, black shoe repair owners, wedding planners, real estate agents and undertakers, the occasional black lawyer and a handful of black Mary Kay salespeople. As a child, I knew so many African-Americans working in science, math and engineering that I thought that’s just what black folks did.

The women themselves felt that they experienced relatively little sexism and were mostly respected and treated as part of the team, though as Beverly Golemba notes (see page 120 of the pdf) their view of it is not the same as what we would consider sexism from our modern standpoint.  They did remark that it was a “man’s world” with not much opportunity for female recognition or advancement, and it’s fair to say that the NACA (or National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, as NASA was known prior to 1958) newsletter from 1945 (after having announced that there were 955 women employed, and 433 of them were single), which felt itself to be very accepting, was a definite Yikes:

Women are now practically one third of the staff. They're the cute youngsters in baggy sweaters and bobby socks...The laboratory has girls in its so-called glamour jobs...They’re the engineers -- aeronautical, mechanical, and electrical -- the artists, draftmen, laboratory technicians... the list is endless. And it includes an impressive number of girls whose pert figures and pretty faces belie the implications of their "Mathematician" rating.

Welp.

In any event, the moon landing was, of course, a great success, thus for a legion of internet idiots many years later to thank these women’s hard work by insisting it was all a hoax. (Of course, NASA doing something dumb like accidentally erasing the original tapes is definitely worthy of an eye-roll.) But honestly, I still get chills listening to “one small step for man... one giant leap for mankind,” and it is one of the moments when you think that if the human race could just get out of its own goddamn way, there is no limit to what we might be able to accomplish. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Michael Collins visited the White House on the 40th anniversary of the landing, in 2009 man, who’s the competent and handsome president in that picture? He should be president again, I’m just saying. When they actually landed on the moon back in 1969, they spoke to President Nixon (who had not yet run into the difficulties discussed in 1x06) and Nixon’s daily diary of activities for July 20, 1969, notes, rather understatedly one feels, “The President held an interplanetary conversation with Apollo 11 Astronauts, Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin on the Moon."

So yes. Man walked on the Moon, but woman got him there. Ada Lovelace (daughter of Lord Byron, brilliant mathematician, and essentially the first computer programmer) and Émilie du Châtelet (lover of Voltaire, translator of Isaac Newton’s Principia mathematica into French, author of her own physics textbook, and one of the intellectual foremothers of Albert Einstein’s famous E = mc2 theory) are beaming down at all these no-longer-Hidden Figures from Badass Lady Scientist Heaven. And the people said amen.

Next week: We return to Depression-era America for the first time since the pilot, and to few it'll be grief, to the law a relief, but it's death for Bonnie and Clyde.

[gonnabesyk]

May 16th, 2019 10:08pm

BLUESMAN ASKED: 5, 17, 18, 22, 26, 30, 33, 37, 41! I’m also very sorry about your Gizmo. He has won many battles, here’s to hoping he wins another one. Best of luck to you and him, I’ll keep you two in my thoughts!

Whoa, I didn’t expect anyone to see this or respond, haha. Thank you very much! Gizmo seems to be doing a little better today (I think, anyway!) 5) Coke all the way. I hate Pepsi! I’m ashamed to admit we have some in the house right now, but only because they came out with new flavours (mango and blueberry). I’m also ashamed to admit they’re…. okay. But I still prefer Coke! 17) Cooking videos, unsolved mysteries, animals, trying new foods, soda, autumn (and chilly weather!), reading in the bath, fireworks, candles that smell good, SKUNKS, scary video games, Rufus Wainwright, animated movies with cute talking animals, and lots of other things I’m probably forgetting! 18) Death. I’ve had a morbid fascination with death since I was young.. This includes postmortem photography, autopsies, videos of people dying, researching the dying process (and near death experiences!), etc. I don’t derive pleasure from seeing people die; there are some very disgusting folks on the internet who do.. I’ve watched hundreds of videos and each death breaks my heart. I’m just trying to understand 22) I don’t really have any nicknames :( My family used to call me Jeanie sometimes, but that stopped years ago. I prefer to go by ‘Jo’ online - I guess that’s as close to a nickname as I’ll ever get! 26) Probably spending a week with Jim in 2013. I vividly remember going to Wal-mart with him to get groceries, playing Red Dead Redemption and GTA V for the very first time, crying when Slowpoke escaped.. Going for walks, admiring the leaves together, carving pumpkins, discovering Betsy Beers on some shitty public access channel one morning, watching the chickadees at the feeder, seeing furries at the store on Halloween, and other fun memories! It was the first time I’d ever been away from my family for that long. It made me realise how dysfunctional my family was, and how nice it was to have time to myself for once.

30) Both because I enjoy comparing! Also, watching movies is often how I discover books. I didn’t read One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest until I’d seen the movie. Same with The Lovely Bones, The Shining, The Mist (technically a short story, but oh well!) and several others. The books are almost always superior, but it’s still interesting to see how they differ from the movies

33) I’m gonna say the day my dad brought Gizmo home. He was tiny (but feisty!) and riddled with fleas. My parents kept him out on the screened in porch until the flea problem could be dealt with, and I spent every waking minute out there with him. He’s 16 and a half this year - I still don’t know what I’m gonna do when he passes. We’ve been through SO much together

37) Not really, though there have been a couple close calls when riding in the car with my sister. She almost went off the road into a ditch one night and I was SURE we were going to die. Everything felt like it was going in slow motion! I wasn’t scared - I felt very peaceful, actually. Luckily we didn’t die and she managed to swerve the car back onto the road at the last second

41) It’s no secret I dislike my sisters, so I’ll try to think of someone else… Maybe [ REDACTED ]? I still haven’t forgiven him for kicking me when I was down years ago. Also [ REDACTED ] . People I follow retweet them regularly and it stirs up such bad feelings, ugh.

Thank you so much again for the questions, they were a fun distraction!!

[train-whistles-at-night]

26-30 for caius rufus n lucinda

Okay this is gonna be a long one bc im answering each for all three

26. Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them (that still has an impact and why?)

Caius - Man dONT MAKE HIM CHOOSE. Though,,,, Tbh the lil kiddos he’s basically a nanny to are most important. He loves them so much they’re so sweet an he just wants to watch them succeed and be loved so much.Least important are probably some dumbass cousins of him that when he came out to them, told him he was still a girl and refuse to call him his Actual name; Caius.

Rufus - Maybe his mama would be most important? She was always really understanding of him and though she had to be reminded sometimes, She now never forgets to ask about Caius and Lucinda and how they’re doing when he and his mama talk on the phone.Least important is probably siblings he has, who aren’t very supportive of him being poly and being unsure of his sexuality and dating both a woman AND a man (good lord they’d throw a fit if they knew Caius is transgender). They’re the types that are like “Welllll...... I don’t SUPPORT it,,,,, but I can’t STOP you so............” But they side-eye him and shit, it’s annoying. He learned to ignore them real quick when he was young.

Lucinda - Most important would be her dad. Dad loves her and both her boyfriends and even though he doesn’t really??? Get?? How Caius is transgender he still calls Caius by his name and his pronouns and is just generally really sweet to them and a Good Person y’know?Least important is her mom thought tbh? Her parents got divorced and she lived with her dad but had to visit her mom a lot. She does love her mom but her mom can also be a really shitty person. She also knows Caius is transgender an doesn’t really care. Still calls him his name and pronouns bc she’s not awful, like I said, but she can be really shitty. An she tries to argue with Lucinda about  how she can’t possibly love two people romantically at the same time, while Lucinda defends with such fire that Yes, she fucking CAN, she does it every goddamn day of her life.

27. What kind of childhood did your character have?

Caius - Pretty alright in terms of how his parents treated him? It kinda sucked though because he always knew he wasn’t a girl and wanted to wear boy clothes but wasn’t allowed to, y’know? Not amazing but not the worst fate ever I suppose. He’s still debating telling his parents he’s transgender tbh.Rufus - P good actually! He sibling/s didn’t give him as much shit then as they do now, so he was pretty happy.Lucinda - On the better side of alright. Nothing too horrible. About the worst that happened to her when she was still a child was her pet when she was little died and they had to bury it and he parents divorced. 

28. What kind of nervous habits do they have? Do they stim? Do they have any kinds of addictions?

Caius - He taps his foot when he’s nervous. As far as I know stimming is in the most basic terms any repetitive movement that helps you calm down, so yes. Often. And not really, do. At least not drug related or any that are harmful to him.Rufus - Cracks his knuckles. Yes, but rarely. He’s not much on doing repetitive movements over and over unless it’s his job. And unless he’s cleaning out/fixing a rifle similar to in the scene from Full Metal Jacket. It make a good shick-shack sound that he likes. Good sound. Good pattern. No addictions, no.Lucinda - Won’t look you in the eyes if she’s nervous. And she shuffles a lot. Stims sometimes but I don’t know what her stims would be. No addictions.

29. If they could choose their epitaph for their grave, what would they choose?

Caius - In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart. - Anne FrankRufus - The wind that gave me my first breath, also received my last sigh. How lovely it is that the wind never told me how to be, or how to die.Lucinda - Be still. Close your eyes. Breathe. Listen for my foot fall in your heart. I am not gone, but merely walk within you.

30. Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?

Gosh yes they’d love to be married to eachother! It would be lovely.And well! Yeah, they end up wanting kids!Caius has their child. He wanted to. He was the one that brought it up actually (trust me when I say I haven’t even begun to think of all the times they asked him if he was sure because they knew it would cause him dysphoria to be pregnant and they just wanted him to feel good and happy.)They don’t have any biological kids, but are the god parents of the kids Caius is a nanny for, and they baby-sit sometimes already too ;v;!