#and they had no idea i idelized them

[fanficmustread]

God i miss this one ask shrignold account that built my version of the pesky boy and like goong on wattpad (im desperate rn) is reminding me of them bc they made peskyclock and i cant live up to their art

[headcanonandburn]

Lily 2.0

so, a while ago, back when this blog was just finding it's foot, i made a post with a headcanon about why Jilly and Snilly wouldn't work out, wich was taken from a Prince Chaser fict , a ship that...if we are being honest probably wouldn't work out 'cause who would date someone who comited or threatened to comit CSA on them back when they were kids? but the ficts about it are cute and the ship is at least better than...say Severus Snape/Dumbledore.

anyway,back to the topic: after i made that post, a fellow Snape fan by the username of emma03080114 made several good points that i decided to include on it so now i present you....LILY 2.0 :

as much as they hated each other, James Potter and Severus Snape had one thing in common: although they liked to claim otherwise, neither of them truly loved Lily:

Yes they idealized her, as teens often do but it was not love.

To them, she was a princess from a fairytail, capable of doing no wrong and with next to no character flaws whatsoever.

James was crushing hard on Lily. He was atracted to Lily because of her beauty and popularity as well as her fiery temper'cause what he wanted the most was to have a stay at home warrior woman for a wife. To him, Lily was a challenge wich is what he loves the most as we can see when we take into consideration that it was him who decided that the marauders would become Animagi and it was him who had the idea for the marauders map. Hence why his main strategy to win her over was not to become closer to her but instead wear her down untill her NO becomes a YES.

He viewed Lily as Princess Peach a fiery damsel in distress, kidnaped by the big bad Bowser Severus who was tretening to crush her heart and bring her with him to the darkness,doing to her as he saw fit. (not that James knows shit about videogames or anything muggle really but i thought it was a good analogy)

James was the one who decided to get married and have kids right after they graduated Hogwarts and if it weren't for the war, Lily wouldn't have agreed 'cause she wanted to persue a carrer (probably as a healer or charms master) however, James, who had the most dotting parents anyone could ever wish for, had always idelized the notion of family and wanted one for himself. Once his parents died and seeing the war wouldn't stop anytime soon, he decided to fulfill that dream before it was to late.

Some may argue that he had to have loved Lily at least a bit since Harry came into existence but that could also have been motivated by lust and his own desire to have kids. it is more than clear that he was sexualy atracted to her and you don't have to love someone to have sex with them nor vice versa.

Severus, on the other hand, viwed Lily was his Belle, the only one he felt would ever be able to love the moster he saw himself as. He was unloved by his dad and although his mom may have loved him, she didn't love him enough to leave Tobias for his sake.

Never being exposed to real love or friendship prior to knowing lily is not surprising that he mistook the platonic love we did feel for her for a romantic love.

Neither Severus nor James ever got to truly know her, to see her as a person instead of an idea. Hence why i personally think that, had James and Lily lived, their relationship wouldn't last long.

They were just not right for each other: she was too headstrong, too opinionated and too independent to be the dotting wife he always dreamed of. Heck i can't even imagine her as a stay at home mom like most of the pureblood wifes seem to be.

In the End, Lily chose James because she, Like her sister, was a social climber and despite James being a certified toarag, he was pretty, popular, dominant and dirty rich was well as being a pureblood, thus giving her acess to the same social group that disciminated against her.

She also wasn't touchy enough for James or Severus and since she idealizes herself, believing herself to be superior to others, interpersonal justice is the only form of justice that matters to her. Thus, she would never correct Severus on his prejudiced views until those views resulted in her own feelings being hurt (like they canonically were at the lake.), plus despite the fact that she cares about thim, she never tried to view his side of the story. She never stoped to consider, for example, that a vast majority of the slytherins are either children of death eaters and/or planing to be death eaters so if Severus stoped talking to everyone associated with death eaters, he wouldn't have anyone to talk to in his house.

Honestly, i think that, for him to change without Lily dying, he would have to see muggles being mercilesly tourtured by those who follow the one he chose to call master, as well as having someone who suports him for real (ie not like Dumbledore who was more than happy to keep him in the DE instead of offering him a better option).

and for James to change for real, ('cause i don't think he did. i think he just toned down his bullying whenever Lily was around),he would have to see how much what he and his friends did truly hurts Severus. To do that, he would need to talk to someone who knows what Severus had gone trough or truly reflect if what he did was ok. Truthfully, is hard for people like him to change, unless something or someone makes them more empathic with others

Wow this poster got long!

Once again, thanks for your input emma03080114 and for those who are wondering, no i do not hate Lily, i just think that she would be better off with someone else.

[invivoinsomnium]

You were driving with your college roommate and her brother back to the hometown spring festival for spring break.

When you arrived there, most of town looked straight out a hallmark flim as the shop were dress up in flower and color ribbons .

When you got their family home, an old farm on the edge of town .you had no idea of the horror this place held .

You go to sleep in a guest bedroom.. When you awake in the middle of the night, being pushed down a dark hallway toward a bright light. Your body can't move, but your mind is aware of things .

As you reach the bright room, a voice says, "Place the subject over there we begin in a moment ".

You can feel the person lifting you onto a cold metal table before stripping you of your clothes . "Give them another dose to keep them under. we don't want them to wake up in the middle of this procedure," said a voice .

You soon could feel then opening you up wide before inserting syringe into while another ran an ultrasound over your belly it cold gel making your nerves jump . Soon, a light is placed on your belly as pain like red coal hit, and your belly began to swell as you see the small dot in your womb becoming human like shape and your belly swollen up You pass out from the shock.

You wake up the next morning to a rush of nausea and before you can process the event of last night you began throwing up as your roommates brother walk in to help you keeping your hair out of your face then cleaning up and said "Our town will be thrill to know that you carried our kind and that reproduction with human to help keep us our kind number up ".

He then showed you his true form as he touched your belly as your belly moved before the pain hit again. "Hold on it almost time breathe," he said as he lifted you into the wheelchair and injected you with a drug that made you unable to move, but you could feel the pain growing and pressure rising .

He then wheels you to the center of town and lies down on a table in the center that was surrounded by flowers and ribbons.

I like this, I love the idea of an idellic hometown holding a dark secret. Of no one being wqho they seem to be, I'm almost getting midsommar mixed with stepford wives vibes. Love the ultrasound and artifical insemination, the accelerated part was nice, just imagining lying on a table and feeling my belly grow with life. Would certainly be interested in seeing the birth, it feels almost ritualistic. Over all love this.

[littlebitshylittlebitangry]

Here I just copied and pasted it, enjoy

First of thanks for tagging me in that little fic between arcane egg and shadow milk, it made me so happy but also so very sad. For as much as I put my little cookie through I just want her to be happy. The more I look at the “it takes two au”, the more I realize that this arcane egg has the worst time. Like ever.

Warnings for: suicide ideation, suicidal thoughts, and attempted suicide, feel free to skip this post.

Which leads to this scenario, it takes place at arcane egg’s lowest point. I imagine that the force kept in her soul jam has been released, probably by dark enchantress, she probably exploited arcane eggs rapidly growing hopelessness to break it. And so releases the nightmares / hungry one’s that then take arcane egg as some sort of host / center point, since I don’t know if you noticed but their just full of suffering.

Anyways plot ensues and I imagine golden butter is able to enter what ever plane / abyss arcane is with the help of the other beasts ,since their obviously they care about arcane egg especially shadow milk cookie. So golden butter finds her and is like

“Cmon we gotta get you out of here“

And arcane egg is like “no”

“??? What do you mean no”

“I mean no, I’m not leaving. But I know that the hungry ones are a problem so you should just kill it.”

And golden butter is like, wouldn’t that kill you? And arcane egg replies yup that’s the plan… THE PLAN?!?

Golden butter is obviously not gonna do because why would she. And if arcane egg doesn’t only have major self hate issues, unresolved feelings for shadow milk cookie, but also unresolved feelings for golden butter than omg. Arcane egg wants to die, full stop at this point.

And so arcane egg just starts pleading, begging for her death to golden butter. Much to her horror I imagine. Like full on mental breakdown, it starts to show not only her depression but her slight insanity is the best way I can describe it. Arcane egg is in full hysterics just begging 

“Please please, I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to be awake. It’s to much!”

And will arcane egg ever explain why, no of course not. And that’s for two reasons, first as stated previously she’s the very definition of the meme “I’ll keep all my feelings here, and than one day I’ll die”, and secondly if they tells them her feelings they’ll surely hate her. And that’s so much worse than death, especially for someone who’s as soul crushingly devoted as arcane egg is to those they care about.

So at one point arcane egg just tries to get golden weapon so she can just do it herself, obviously golden resists and like it’s not a good time all around.

How would golden butter react, how would the others react, shadow milk? I don’t know honestly because this scenario is just so so depressing it’s actually ridiculous .

Anyways thanks for listening to this very disorganized rambling. Hope I don’t make you go sad, see ya!

ooooo

You have given me ideas, friend.

Warnings; Suicide idelation, thoughts of suicide and Attempted assited suicide, getting knocked out by magic.

Be warned

She knew the moment they step foot into her resisidence. She felt the moment they were searching for her. She hated it- Hated this.

The buzzing between her jam- her formeraly cripsy layer had cracks in it. It looked and honestly felt quite painful as she traced them over, she could tell just by looking down to her neck that it was likely she already had cracks on her face.

(She was on a timer- It wasn't something that someone had to tell you. Sometimes you just know. You know you're dying and that you can't be saved.)

(Arcane Egg was on a timer- perhaps she had always been on a timer.)

Gazing at their soul Jam they saw the former once bright color shift darker. The outer layers almost pure black as what looked like cracks slowly crept towards the center. Its then they bend their head to spot the neckless laying on them.

They reach their hand up to cup the neckless for a moment- and they stare as liquid drips from their face. She release the neckless was they reach their hand up to rub their eyes.

She doesn't even recognize her voice for a moment as she whispers, "Its better this way." It throws her off as she looks around, before she settles, realizing its her voice. Its raspy, horse and sounds dead.

Its a bitter thing, perhaps just like they feel.

They close their eyes with a shudder as they almost feel the group split up- one of them seemingly coming her direction. For a moment it comes to her.

(She's too cowardly to do it herself, to scared, too terrifyed of the consequences for herself, but what if?)

(Surely one of the others would be willing?)

(Surely they would do it- They understood the consequences if it doesn't- Even if the rest didn't- Then surely wouldn't Golden Butter be willing?)

So they stay. They stay in that spot as they sit there and they feel the moment someone steps within their range.

They know who it is the moment they speak.

"..Arcane Egg Cookie... why- are you okay?!" She feels Golden Butter rush over and turn her to face them. She sees the frantic look on the others face as she carefully looks over the newly formed cracks.

Golden butter slowly traces over what they can only assume to be a crack on their face. Slowly she speaks, "We gotta get you out of here." She tries to pull Arcane up, but stalls when the other just sits there. "...Arcane Egg?..."

She shakes her head, "No." She replies.

Golden Butter freezes, "..Arcane.. what do you mean by no?" Arcane shakes her head as Golden Butter grabs her shoulders, "Arcane what do you mean by no?"

Arcane egg shakes off Golden Butters hands, "I'm not leaving. The hungry ones are a problem that need to be gotten rid of, but I need help to do it." She looks Golden Butter right in the eye as a slow on coming horror falls into them.

Golden butter is shaking, and shes shaking badly.

"w-wouldn't that kill you?" She stutters over herself, "Wouldn't that demand your death at this point- Arcane there are other ways we can look into-" Arcane Egg raises a hand, "This is the plan. It has always been the plan." Her voice is resigned, as she drops her hand.

Golden Butter went still as Arcane Egg continued, "...I'm sorry... Golden Butter, I need you to kill me, I need this all to stop." Golden egg shakes her head as she reaches out a hand and grabs on Arcanes wirst, "I- Acrane- I- I can't, I refuse." She shakes her head frantically.

Arcane Egg stares at her as Golden Butter shakes and grips onto them. Arcane Egg looks down, "You have to Goldie.. There... There isn't another option, This is the only choice-"

"NO!" Golden Butter shouts.

Arcane Egg stares at golden Butter, looking slightly frazzles as a wild look begins to form in their eyes. "You have to goldie- no else will understand- you- you have to- there isn't another option you have to-" Golden Butter shakes her head, "I- I can't, I refuse."

Arcane eaches out and grabs onto Golden Butter who pauses in their shaking, "You- You have to Goldie- Please- please you have to- I can't- I can't take any of this anymore- PLeas being awake- living like this- I can't- I can't take it-" They feel something press onto the side of their neck.

They look at Golden butter desperatly, "please please, I don't want to be here anymore- I don't- I can't- please- I can't stand being awake- its ts too much-" Slowly their breathing slowers as they slur over their words as Golden butters magic takes hold.

The other kneels down, tears falling down her face, "I'm- I'm so sorry Arcane- I- I promise, I'll make it better, we'll make you better." A kiss presses to their forehead as they feel themselve slip away, "You- You deserve so much- far more then what the world has handed to you."

They slip into the unconiousness with a wheeping friend holding onto them with a wild desperation.

And slowly another cookie comes around the cornor. He swallows, "I'll carry her." Golden Butter swirls over to him, "Shado-" He shakes his head, "..Not... Not now....just.... lets just focus on Arcane."

Its moments as golden butter slowly releases her hold on Arcane that Shadow Milk cookie picks her up and the pair begin walking back.

ooh boy this one was a large one, Hope you like it!

Also note for you or anyone else who has ideas regarding cookie run kingdom. Check out my sideblog @revisitingfandoms. I do writing requests there.

[cherrytree-irl]

ooc post: random useless facts 2

i'm low on ideas again so it's time for brain sludge.

i guess i'll start by talking about the christmas event i wrote half of and then scrapped.

the event was going to involve N and sylvan going to driftveil for a holiday party, with sylvan reluctantly bringing his father along (because, y'know, people like spending holidays with family or whatever.) and hoping he wouldn't cause problems.

then vernon would cause problems. (he was gonna find out about N's involvement with team plasma.)

i couldn't really think of a good way to resolve said problems, though. part of the reason i didn't finish writing this event. also because i waited too long to start writing it so i didn't have time to think it through or actually write half of it

also linnet was gonna come back. she wouldn't really have a major role, but she'd be there! and latios too, of course.

oh well. i can rework the important stuff into some other event later.

anyway, on to other stuff.

there are not very many sylvans in the multiverse. most universes just... never had one and never will. of the sylvans that have existed, even fewer of them are alive.

not from like, any one specific cause. just most of them Fucked Up somewhere along their journeys.

some real world pokemon games exist within sylvan's universe. mostly ones that don't have human characters, like mystery dungeon and rumble. (miis don't count as human characters they're just player avatars. sorry miis ily :p)

sylvan's brother, oliver, was originally planned to be a bartender. but then i decided to incorporate him into my other pkmn irl blog that i barely use, and there was no reason for the characters i play on that blog to crash land in the pokemon world and immediately go straight to the bar. so he runs a cafe now.

speaking of oliver. sylvan's name was originally oliver. then eventually i decided the name didn't suit him, so i picked out a new one and later gave his old name to his older brother.

sylvan is vegetarian in theory, but usually vegan in practice, since N is vegan and it would be needlessly pricey to buy both vegan and non vegan versions of applicable foods.

he usually does at least have a pack of mac and cheese cups in the apartment though. saves them for when he's sad or stressed or just really wants some damn mac and cheese.

at some point, i thought about secretly having this blog take place a few years in the future. it was kind of just a cheap way to make sylvan easier for me to write, since i would basically be making him the same age as me.

but then i thought. if i ever actually publicly established the fact that the blog took place in 2030, people might start asking questions about what the future is like and stuff and i realized doing this would be causing more difficulties than it would solve.

on new years, when i'd received the egg that would eventually become Idele, i asked my cousin what should be in it.

he said to put a shiny drizzile in it. i told him, "you can't put a drizzile in an egg, dumbass" so he reluctantly changed his answer to shiny sobble.

i then asked my sister for her opinion. she said a shiny cherubi. i guess she had caught one in legends arceus recently, so it was on her mind. but sylvan already has a cherrim, so i didn't really wanna do that.

so i eventually just. picked neither of those options and went for hisuian zorua because It's Cool.

months ago, when i was trying to decide what sort of character(s) to center my possible future pkmn irl blog around, i had three different ideas.

the first was, y'know... sylvan. since he was a pokemon character i had already made. but i worried that people wouldn't find him interesting or that they'd get mad about him dating N. so i tried to think of something else.

my second idea was for a latias disguising herself as a human because... reasons? i didn't have that part worked out yet. (so, like, a first draft version of linnet. and linnet was only like, a second draft version of linnet.) i kinda just didn't have enough enthusiasm about playing that character for an extended period of time, i guess.

my third idea was for a crossover blog. i thought it would be funny to bring a character from yo-kai watch into the pokemon world. for some reason the first that came to mind was komasan. he's not even like, my favorite yo-kai or anything...? (venoct, if you were wondering. which you probably were not.) anyway i wasn't confident enough in my ability to write as him, so the idea was dropped.

eventually i settled on sylvan despite my previous concerns. then i had to decide where in his story i wanted to place the blog.

the main three points in time i was considering were...

1. a few years ahead of his sort of... base form. like, when i think of sylvan, i think of him at 21, right after bw2. but i wanted to move him forward a little if i was going with a "current" form of him. i do not remember why i made that decision, but whatevs. this is the version i chose.

2. when he was a teenager and just starting out his journey. N would not have been involved with this theoretical version of the blog. (unless it went on for... quite a while.) i dropped this because at the time i was writing a fic that covered that same point in his life. also because i wanted N to be there.

3. when he was traveling with N but they weren't romantically involved yet. would have involved Pining™ and going to random places and doing random stuff and syl being really confused (and somewhat concerned) about What The Hell N's Deal Is. i don't remember why i decided against this, it probably would have been a more interesting blog. maybe i just figured it would be easier to write sylvan when all the interesting stuff already happened to him, ha.

that's everything i can think of right now. so. post over

[gmgray]

“He always told me he didn’t have time to bother with dating,” Natalia muttered. “More fun to dally with shore lads. Married to his ship and all that.” She gave Alan an appraising look. “But I guess I can see why he’d change his mind for you.”

“Natalia,” Alan said in a strangled voice. Going back to his investigation looked better and better by the second.

“But I really wanted a boyfriend before I got to the Academy,” Natalia whined, grabbing Alan’s arm. “Or a girlfriend. I’m really not picky.”

She gave him a sullen shake. “Once I start as a cadet, there won’t be any time to date, and then after I get my ship assignment…”

Despite Alan being the least-equipped person to give this sort of pep talk, he resigned himself to doing his best. “If Colin’s personal life is any indication, you definitely have time to date in an academy.” Alan thought about Colin’s never-ending string of relationships, both casual and serious, often happening simultaneously. “Lots and lots of time…”

“Maybe,” Natalia conceded in a mournful voice, but she gripped his arm even tighter. “But I’m not sure how dating will work while my mom is teaching there.”

Alan thought about Idel Jiordson and the mild-mannered veneer coating her razor-sharp mind. It occurred to him that he had no idea whether Sven had told his parents about their relationship, nor was Alan sure he wanted them to know.

“Completely understandable,” Alan admitted.

After a long moment of silence, Natalia drooped against Alan, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

“I don’t want to go.”

Her voice was little more than a whisper. She sounded less whiny and more heartbroken. She sounded afraid.

Alan did the rough math on the length of her observation tour, and realized she must be close to the end of her year aboard a Navy vessel. For Alan, these past few months had flown by in a whirlwind of chaotic events, human-pyrean politics, concerning mysteries, and completely unexpected romance. Yet at the end of the day, he’d spent his time as he’d spent the past few years: as an Elite inspector. Regardless of his title change, or his place on the Swallow, he was still doing what he’d done since graduating.

When Natalia entered the Pyrean Naval Academy, everything would be different — a new place, new people, and a new routine. Her adolescence was ending, and her life as an adult was beginning. Entering the Elite had been an easy choice for Alan. All those changes were things Alan wanted more than anything. He couldn’t have left behind his life among nobility soon enough. 

But Natalia’s circumstances were different. It was obvious how much she loved the Swallow’s crew, not to mention the way she idolized her brother. Once her observer tour finished, she’d probably never sail on the Swallow again. She’d have a new life with a new crew.

Even for someone from a nomadic culture like the Fimmel, such a transition must be scary.

Alan placed a hand on her head, giving her a few gentle pats.

“I don’t doubt for a moment how much you’ll love being a cadet,” Alan murmured with a soft smile. “But it’s okay to be scared too.”

When she sniffled, Alan gave her a gentle shake the same way he did to Sven when Sven was being a crybaby. Like brother like sister, he supposed.

“Come on,” Alan encouraged. “Let’s pick out a Valen-present for you before we head back. Dirk and Gunnar will be planetside soon.”

“Valen-presents,” she hiccuped with a determined nod. She managed a soft, quavering smile as her material greed beat back the fears of growing up.

[livvyofthelake]

no one understands cassandra clare's mind like i do. the mortal instruments isn't harry potter fanfiction and i don't know how to explain to people how little that makes sense when they spread that idea. however. all of her work IS fanfiction, and with a keen eye and relentless dedication you can unravel all the pieces of the puzzle she has crafted out of carefully selected franchises and original ideas and classic literature. so no, the mortal instruments is not harry potter fanfiction. it is harry potter fanfiction mixed with the bible mixed with paradise lost mixed with star wars fanfiction mixed with inserting her own self in the form of the idelized teen girl she wishes she had been and the nerd geek she is and then she took all those ingredients and poured them into her own original fantasy universe and made it funny and compelling. and it worked. so no it's not so simple as "fanfiction", its so much more complex than that, and you'll never understand it...... and then also at the same time it's star wars fanfiction.

[simmiesapphire]

BV - Jacquet - Round 1

Today we play with the Jacquets in Bluewater Village. (I started playing with Delarosa, but the game glitched and she couldn't use her bed, so I put it in time out).

The Jacquets live on 223 Idlewild Street. From the game info -

"The Jacquets left everything they had behind and tried to build a new life in Bluewater Village. Will they go from rags to riches and create a healthy franchise system that goes public? Or will they fail and watch their dreams crumble like a week old croissant?"

So they own a bakery maybe?

Let's go find out...

There seems to be no business attached to the house. It's just a little family home.

Here is Denise Jacquet. She was married to Yves Jacquet and is now widowed. She doesn't have many memories except for those she created when she met Chester Gieke in Pleasantview on a previous round. She seems to be friends with Chester, and enemies with Darren Dreamer after losing a fight with him. Her game-given LTW is to be a criminal mastermind, but I changed that to earn 100,000 simoleans to match her fortune aspiration

Denise's son Gilbert is a romance sim. He has a crush on Ericka Hogan and Jennifer Ying, even though he's not turned on by her. He fancies himself a casanova and wants to have 20 simultaneous lovers. Probably fancies himself a Don Lothario.

Welcome wagon is here, and Denise, ever the hostess with the mostest makes them a healthy chef salad lunch.

Gilbert entertains the Tinkers by proposing an open relationship - which did not go down well.

Checko Ramirez was the life of the party with his piano playing.

All of the gaiety made Denise nostalgic for her friend Chester. She invited him over - Chester is the son she never had... er... the kind of son she never had. Or maybe she has a deviant plan of hooking her good-for-nothing casanova son with a good boy like Chester. Maybe that will get Gilbert over his ridiculous notion of taking Wanda Tinker as a lover.

Denise puts her plan in motion. She makes dinner and clears out to go "relax" on her bed. Without her present, Gilbert and Chester have dinner and hang out, sharing secrets.

The next morning Gilbert calls Chester to ask him out on a date, but is rejected :(

To lick his wounds, Gilbert decides maybe being friends with Stephen Tinker is a better idea... Is he plotting to worm his way into the Tinkers' so that he can get in Wanda's pants?

After making friends with Stephen Tinker, Gilbert decides the idele life is not for him - he finds a job in the Slacker career and is immediately promoted to Gas Station Attendant... Now he can bring in the big bucks. Meanwhile Denise comes out of retirement and start providing financial consulting services. It's not like their in dire straits or anything - their investments are doing well. But she has to find a way to spend her time...seeing that Chester isn't always available to drop everything and come over.

After many failed attempts to ask Chester out, Gilbert finally managed to get him on the phone and invited him over. It seems though that Chester isn't comfortable being alone with Gilbert - he brought a friend with him!

Well something went right, because they finally ended up kissing...

They ended up woohooing after moving the furniture around to allow for accessibility (I don't think I set my ACR mod to work with Inaccessible Beds...) - without realizing that Denise was right outside on the porch with her telescope... gazing at the "stars"... right..

The next day Gilbert wants to go on a date so he calls... Ericka Hogan. Yes, Ericka Hogan who has moved in with one of the Caliente sisters (from a previous round). Hmmm - let's see if it goes anywhere...

Well, things seem to be going better than expected for Gilbert. Ericka is super-receptive. The date is amazing... and Gilbert falls in love with Ericka.

Denise catches them getting jiggy-with-it. But then decides to let them play while she practices the piano. Kids these days - you can't tell them anything...

That's where we will leave the Jacquet's for now. It's Thursday night of Round 1. I typically play a family until Sunday night, so we'll be back to them the next time.

[medusinestories]

 And the rewatch continues...

Black Sails, II (S1ep02)

- Back to Breaking Billy. Damn, he looks so shell-shocked by what he did. He... LIED to the crew. I think a lot of viewers don’t see how this is a big deal in a world of thieving lying bastards which make up about 95% of the cast, but it’s a huge deal to Billy. Later in the ep, Gates tries to brush it off, telling Billy that it’s for the good of the crew (and, well, he may be right - the crew is already trying to spend gold they don’t have yet). I also love that Gates opens with “I’ve always been straight with you”... Why yes you have, except when you didn’t tell him about Flint’s plans. And Billy knows this, deep down he must know that he comes second to Flint in Gates’ list of priorities.

- Randall and his “we don’t like thieves, this is what happens to thieves” (at this point crew members are pissing on Singleton’s corpse)... the way he looks at Silver, nearly like he knows. Also a foreshadowing of the “he’s a thief!” dialogue. Also, why on earth didn’t Gates search Silver? He’s the only man on Parrish’s crew that didn’t get searched. Either Silver was extremely lucky, or something happened between them to distract Gates (is this a request for silvergates fanfic? yes).

- Silver taking one look at Flint's face and belly-flopping into the sea... CLASSIC. Billy running after him, he seems to be able to handle. Flint looking right at him... PANIC!

- Anyhow there’s a lot of things in this episode that reveal bits of Silver’s identity. He thinks incredibly fast, hard to tell if he’s thinking on his feet or applying techniques he’s already used (I suspect the latter), but he manages to vanish on the beach, from the brothel (after nearly losing an eye) and in the wrecks. But then he goes and does something halfway decent when he sees Max being throttled by Vane and asks Idelle for a weapon. I wasn’t sure if it was for self-protection or what, but since Max is gesturing at him not to do anything, he actually seems fully prepared to go in and save her as had been previously discussed.

- We see a lot of Vane in this episode, and a lot of different facets. He’s surprisingly cautious when Rackham puts the “we get info on the Urca” plan to him, and his attempts to argue calmly with Eleanor show quite a lot of (awkward) restraint. And then there’s the brutality against Max, which also seems to come from a place of paranoia (and probably jealousy?). But above all, it’s interesting that while Vane’s name strikes fear in the heart of people, like Flint, also like Flint, he doesn’t truly have control over his men and their brutish behaviour. Also, very much like Flint, he wants things done his way, as demonstrated by him killing off the messenger Silver sends to fetch the pearls. I also found it nice (for Vane) that when Rackham falls into the sea, Vane actually stops to check that Rackham is okay before going after Silver again.

- Max. I have to admit, she’s one of the characters that still leaves me the most mystified on a rewatch. She gestures to Silver not to intervene when Vane is throttling her, even though she has no leverage and no idea whether he’ll actually leave her alive or not... why? Max Accepting To Endure Pain will come up again in the next few eps (ugh :-/ ) and I still have trouble understanding what motivates her. Is it pride? A fierce will to be free/independent? I get that she doesn’t trust Eleanor and refuses to be protected by the same person who basically stabbed her in the back. But she goes several steps further into pure recklessness and I don’t really get it. Your insights/comments on this are welcome!

- That said, her begging Eleanor to run away with her and give up Nassau, “we can be free together”, well that’s pretty much what John “all I want is to be free” Silver would like from Madi by the end of S4, isn’t it?

- I kind of wonder whether Silver wasn’t hoping to be captured by Flint. I mean, he was probably hoping to manage to escape, but getting caught by Flint was apparently what he considered his second best option, since he calls Vane “the madman”. It’s pretty interesting how he’s already decided that Flint and his crew are better than Vane. I can only imagine that the difference is that while he’s seen Flint commit a really disgusting murder on another pirate, Silver thinks it’s not as bad as Vane who killed a beggar and threatened to kill Max. (that or he’s already fascinated by Flint, of course)

- I just love the little bits of vulnerability you see in Flint in this episode. His talk with Eleanor, where he’s slouching and exhausting, and instead of explaining why he wants Nassau specifically, tells the story about Odysseus and the oar. And then at the end we see him watching his men having fun in the camp before he leaves to see Miranda. The moment he’s back in this familiar environment and she tells him to get his boots off and she’ll boil some water and he just... crumples. A+ acting and just brilliant.

- So we hear that Richard has been bribing the Lord Proprietor for years. We know that Lord Alfred was the proprietor. Now I kind of wonder whether the killing of Alfred Hamilton is recent, and whether this is why the navy's coming in now that he’s gone.

[daisiesflower]

Black Sails Female Costumes: The Prostitutes

Black Sails historical accuracy is spotty at best when it comes to costumes and props, and this is never more true than with the prostitutes. Historical underwear is completely thrown out the window in favor of made up styles to make the women appear more sexual. So let’s delve into it!

Now, when researching to figure out what these women would have worn, one has to look at two separate sources: what prostitutes of the time would have been wearing and underwear of the time period. 

What prostitutes would have been wearing is a little difficult to discover - people weren’t exactly commissioning full portraits of these women, however the existence of propaganda images means that we do have some idea of what they wore (albeit probably slightly more sexualized than is realistic).

Essentially, they wore what every other woman of the time wore. Some images that emphasize the breasts seem to indicate that perhaps they didn’t wear stays or underwear underneath their dresses for added sex appeal, while other images show them with the defined silhouette in the bodice that could only be created with the use of stays. Clearly, however, Black Sails decided not to go the route of showing these women in regular dresses, with the exception of one of Max’s dresses, which appears to be a regular dress with no underwear under it (see my post on dresses for a more in depth look at what women of the time would have been wearing).

Rather, Black Sails has the prostitutes wearing versions of underwear. Unfortunately it’s not anything close to what underwear of the time actually looked like, or even a somewhat altered version of this underwear. The basics of underwear at the time: a shift/chemise/smock that reached below the knees with long and full sleeves, a pair of stays (a boned “corset”, though without any of the tightlacing of late 19th century stories, that provided support and the desired shape of the bodice, which was conical and reached the hips - stays were always laced in the back though some had lacing on the front for decoration), and stockings. Panniers (the wide, hoops on the hips) are shown in some of these images, though they were not in use until around 15 years after Black Sails is set. Instead women achieved the desired round shape with petticoats. Occasionally free hanging pockets were wrapped around the waist to be accessed using pocket slits in the dresses. 

As we know, this is nothing close to what is worn by the prostitutes in Black Sails. These women are shown wearing a pair of shortened drawers, occasionally a long skirt hitched up on one side, a pair of stays (if their breasts are covered), often colorful stockings, and occasionally a robe or shawl. 

Now let’s go into each of these offenses, the most egregious being the drawers and stays. The drawers that the prostitutes wear are closer to cloth knickers than actual drawers, however the frills on the bottom clearly show that that costume designer was trying to invoke the sense of drawers for a historical feel. Drawers have just not been invented yet and wouldn’t be for nearly 200 years, while pantalets or pantaloons will be invented in just over 100 years. These “drawer shorts” just flat out shouldn’t exist in the world of Black Sails. 

While stays do exist, the shape of the stays worn by the prostitutes is completely wrong. These stays end at the bottom of the ribcage and lace up in the front. Historical stays laced up in the back and ended closer to the hips in order to give a conical shape to the bodice. The shoulders would have been pulled back, with the most fashionable ladies wearing stays that nearly forced their shoulder blades to touch, in order to give a very tall posture with emphasis on the breasts. At one point we do see Max wearing a very accurate pair of stays, however without the silhouette of the shoulders pulled back (which can be explained away in universe as her not being able to afford a more expensive pair of stays, unfortunately this is a problem most of the women in the show wearing stays have). Perhaps this is to make up for her wearing one of the most historically inaccurate items of clothing in the whole show - the stays we first see her wearing (the picture isn’t very clear so I’ll explain - it has boob cups).

As for the other pieces of clothing worn by the prostitutes - the skirts, the robes, the stockings - these are relatively accurate to varying degrees. The stockings are very accurate, and the skirts are relatively accurate. They seem to be the same style of skirts as worn by other women in Nassau, simply hitched up at the waist and given how little we know of what prostitutes wore in history I’m inclined to believe this would have been an accurate thing for them to wear, especially in a warmer climate. As far as the robes go, they vary from being very accurate to very inaccurate, which mostly comes down to fabrics used - Idelle’s robes are very accurate while Max’s is a completely modern invention despite the similar silhouette (though as I say in my post about dresses, I am personally a fan of modern fabrics used on historical silhouettes to create interesting textures and images in period pieces). 

All in all, this outfit of Idelle’s is probably the closest to what a prostitute in the Bahamas during 1715 would have worn. It’s got its issues - the extremely pointed stays/stomacher, modern fabrics and patterns, the length of the bodice (I discuss bodice shapes in my post about dresses) - but that being said in terms of the pieces used it’s probably the most accurate look at what the other women of the brothel would have worn at the time.

Which makes sense, as Idelle is a complete queen.

[pro-fangirls-unsocial-life]

Sweet Nothings (1/2) Rex x Reader

A/N: So I just wanted to say that this the first fic I have ever completed and the first once I am ever posting so forgive me if there is still a lot that I have to learn lol. Also I wanted to just say thank you to @captainrexisboo​ and @bad-batch-of-fics​. You guys have both inspired me and are so incredibly nice. I hope that its ok that I’m tagging you guys! I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible but if I missed something please let me know! I hope you guys like it!!

Length: ~ 1700 words

Warnings: none :) just fluff

Part two

It had been three months since you had last seen Rex and almost two since your last transmission with him. His leave had been cut short when a crucial system had been invaded by Separatist forces and he had to rush to leave. You had helped him get ready as best as you could and sent him with some of the leftover dinner that you had made from the night left before.

 It was always hard to see him go, especially when you had made plans for him, but you understood. He had a job to do and you both agreed when you started dating that it would be hard to keep a good balance, but you both always tried as best as you could. But this time had been especially hard.

 The only news you had heard from this system, when you even heard news at all, had been bad. Rex had only been able to talk to you for a few minutes before the transmission had been cut off. He had only been able to let you know that he was alive and that he had no idea when he would be home. You spent most nights after that call lying awake, your mind running wild with what might be happening. Just hoping that he was safe, and that he would come back to you.

As you worked each day, you tried to stay focused on whatever vehicle you were working on so that you could leave behind all of the heart wrenching scenarios that you had thought up the night before. It worked most times, but when it just wasn’t enough, you would think about past dates with Rex. They were never particularly fancy, but you wouldn’t ask for anything else.

 The first date you went on was nice and quiet. Equally matched in nervousness, neither of you could keep the heat from rising in your face. He had taken you to this small rooftop restaurant on the far side of Coruscant, close to your apartment and far enough from the senate building that neither of you had to worry about listening to a senator complaining about the food that they had been served. It was a small place, but the food was as amazing as the company you shared. After you left, you walked the upper levels of Coruscant for hours, just talking. About your job, his brothers, your family, all of the planets he had been to, your favorite speeders to work on, why he modified his armor. Everything.

 He told you about a mission that he had been on in the Outer Rim at the start of the war. How it was the most peaceful mission he had ever been a part of.

 It was a relief mission to help resupply the capitol city of Sesid with clean water after the main plant had been targeted by Separatist attacks. The planet was covered in lush tropical forests, and the beaches that lied outside of the town were adorned with beautiful pink sand.

 While they were on the planet, the people would bring them home cooked food in order to thank them for their help. He told you how it was some of the best food he had ever tasted. Almost as good as yours. But the best thing, he said, were the cookies.

 At first glance, they did not look like much. A bit of chocolate in between two flavored wafers, that was then baked. He told you how they just melted as soon as they were in your mouth and how he would like to go back to the planet after the war to find them again.

 When you had finally meandered back to your apartment after hours of talking, you both just stood at the door in silence, not wanting the night to end. At the end of the hall on your floor, beams of golden sunlight began to peer through the window, illuminating the beautiful features of his face.

 “I guess we stayed out pretty late, huh?” You motioned toward the window with a small smile.

 He looked at the window and then back at you. “Yeah, I guess we did” he said with a laugh.

 “I had a really nice time” you said as you looked up at him. “I wish that the night was longer, but if I’m being honest, I probably won’t be able to stay awake for much longer.”

 Rex brought his hand up to the back of his neck as he looked out the window overlooking the city again. “Hm. Yeah. I should probably be getting back to the barracks.”

 “Yeah. You wouldn’t want Kix to pull rank to force you to sleep again,” you giggled as you turned around to unlock your door.

 “Hey! That’s only happened four times!”

 “Four times to many,” you smirked. “Thank you again for the wonderful night. I had fun,” you smiled as you turned around to face him again.

 “So did I,” he said softly as he gently grabbed your hand and began tenderly running his thumb over your knuckles. “Can I see you again?”

 You looked up from where he held your hand to meet his eyes. As he looked at you, you saw the adoration on his face that had mixed with the fear of waiting for your answer. As he gazed at you, you felt the heat rising up in your face like it had when the night first began.

 “Yes.” You smiled. “I would like that very much.”

 A smile broke out across his face that outshone the sunlight that was seeping into the small hallway.

 He bent down into a bow and brought your hand up to his lips and lightly kissed it. “Well, until then cyare,” he said as his smile continued to beam up at you. As he stood up, he brought his face up to yours a placed a kiss on your cheek. “Get some sleep Y/N,” he said as he gave you one last smile and walked back down the hall toward the stairway.

 You stood there for a moment and brought your hand up to touch your still buzzing cheek. After a moment, you smiled and entered your apartment. “Until then Rex,” you whispered to yourself.

 As you stood up from your workbench, you kept wishing that Rex could be here with you now. You wished that you could be on another peaceful date with him and that you could feel his warmth beside you. You wiped down all of your tools and began placing them back into their places on the shelves when your communicator beeped.

 “Huh. That’s weird,” you said as you picked it up. “Its late for anyone to be comming me.” You looked down at the message and your heart leapt out of your chest.

 We are coming home. Will be back planet side tomorrow. Can’t talk now but will see you at your apartment when dismissed.  See you soon. ~  Rex

 “Rex,” you whispered to yourself. “He’s safe.” You felt the weight of the last three months completely leave you and you rushed to finished packing up for the night.

 As you locked up the repair hangar you were thinking about what you were going to want to do for Rex when he got back. You knew that this mission had been a particularly bad one and that he would want nothing more than to get his mind off of it. 

As you walked through the many booths and shops that littered the street, you saw one out of the corner of your eye that had a familiar look to it.

 You walked over to it and looked at the shopkeeper. “Are you new around here? I’ve never seen your booth before.”

 “Sure am! I just got here five days ago.” He motioned to the shelves and tables that made up the little booth. “Is there anything that I can get for you?”

 As you looked at the many trinkets and small packages of food that adorned the table, you realized where you had seen these things before. Rex had pulled up pictures of that planet he had told you about on the holonet. “Are you from Sesid by any chance?”

 “Yeah,” he said enthusiastically. “How’d you know? Most people can’t tell just based off the goods.”

 “My boyfriend was there on a relief mission once. He showed me pictures when we were talking about it.”

 “Ah! He must be one of the clones that helped get water back to the capitol city, right? That’s the only relief mission I ever heard about. Never cared too much to venture to the capitol myself but a buddy of mine said that they were pretty helpful.” He started to lean back into one of the counters as he spoke. “Me? I was getting tired of the attacks on the planet that had to keep being fended off. Well, that and the kriffing tourists,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “Anyways, why do you ask? Is there something from Sesid that meets your fancy?”

 “Actually, yeah,” you smiled. “Do have any cookie type things? The ones with chocolate in them?”

 The man bit his lip and looked up, thinking. “You mean Idelle wafers? Two things with chocolate in between them?” He reached under the counter and produced a small bag with the picture of the cookies on them.

 “Yes! That looks like them!” The man handed you the bag and you looked it over. “How much?”

 “Well that bag has about three of them in there, and its two credits. But,” he said reaching back below the counter, “this one has ten of them in it, and its six credits.”

 “I’ll take the bigger one please.” You reached into your pocket and handed the man the credits.

 He pocketed them and smiled back up at you. “Thank you very much. Have a nice night and enjoy those Idelle wafers!” He waved and turned to start helping the next person at the counter.

 You nodded and started to walk back toward your apartment. “I think he will,” you murmured to yourself as you continued into the night.

[lumitris-a]

Fun  old  story  about  similar  portrayals  since  the  topic  has  come  up  ,

,  and  as  a  general  opinion  without  me  not  caring  about  things  with  this  website  and  fiction  because  ,  and  I  repeat  to  this  day  ,  can  not  bat  a  single  eyelid  over  tumblr  drama  anymore:   I  wrote  z/angya  when  I  first  started  rpin’  in  the  d/bz  community  and  I  had  a  whole  thing  going  for  her  ,  she  appears  for  like  a  few  scenes  in  a  movie  so  I  could  make  whatever  I  wanted  for  her.    

I  felt  it  was  super  unique  and  the  headcanons  I  had  were  so  off  whack  that  she  was  basically  an  oc.    Know  what  happened?    Someone  had  the  exact  same  principle  for  them  down  to  a  fucking  T.    You  know  what  I  did  about  it?    Yeah  naturally  the  first  reaction  was  me  being  a  bit  upset  about  it  ,  but  that  I  knew  was  irrational  ,  like  why  start  drama  with  a  real  person  over  things  we  just  can’t  really  stop  or  control  you  know?    Life  is  about  picking  what  we  give  a  fuck  about  ,  and  you  really  gotta  force  that  narrative  yourself  it’s  not  easy  dudes.    What  ended  up  happening?    I  followed  on  both  my  z/angya  and  v/idel  and  had  the  best  time  rping  with  someone  who  had  similar  headcanons , ideas , even dialogue.  I  think  it’s  too  easy  to  get  worked  up  about  things  online  ,  especially  because  communication  is  hard  within  text.    

Let’s  just  be  easy  on  each  other  ,  like  ,  genuinely  give  each  other  a  break  things  aren’t  that  deep  ever.  That’s  my  rp  vibe  this  time  around  ,  even  if  people  on  this  site  end  up  bickering  or  sending  shit  @  me  that’s  shitty  and  mean  ,  I’m  not  a  child  I  can  tell  it’s  just  immature  behaviour  because  someone  is  upset.    My  IMs  are  always  open  so  long  as  you’re  not  just  being  a  complete  ass  ,  then  you  can  come  and  talk  to  me  again  when  you’ve  rethought  the  situation  and  chilled  out.   We  take  this  platform  too  seriously  ,  talk  to  people  or  block  em  and  leave  em  be  if  they  aren’t  doing  any  actual  harm  to  nobody.    Talk  shit  privately  to  your  mates  if  you  want  to  vent. 

[itmeansofthesea]

The Bet

I'm in grad school and this is what I want right now, so here you are.

Warning: language

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

You were just curled up the window seat in your bedroom, reading your book, sipping your tea, minding your own business. You weren’t doing anything, weren’t asking for anything. Just living your life. Then Charles Vane chose violence when he walked out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower, water still glistening on his abs and dripping from his hair, with a pair of sweatpants slung low across his hips. You tried not to choke on your tea, you really did, but holy shit.

He watched you with the most innocent amused face you’d ever seen while he ran a towel through the ends of his hair. He knew what he was doing, damn him to hell, and you knew as well as he did that’s why he did it. He started to saunter over to you, and you frantically refocused on your book- well, tried to at least. He made his way to you, placed his index finger on top of the spine and lowered it from your face. “What was that about?” He smirked down at you in a way that made you unsure if you wanted to kiss or punch it off his smug handsome face.

“You know what it’s about,” you wanted to scowl at him, but you knew it came out as a half-smile, half-scowl. He gave you the biggest grin you’d ever seen him give since you’d known him as you dragged him down by the arm to kiss him. Without separating you scooted over just enough to give him room to sit down to deepen the kiss. He pulled you into his lap, arms winding around your waist and reaching up your back to steady you. Heavens, you loved him- without all of your heart, mind, soul, and strength you loved him. You held him close, the memories of all the times you almost lost him all too fresh in your mind. There was a time when he thought he had nothing to live for, and then you reminded him that he did. Not just you, but Jack, Anne… speaking of. You would have shoved any other thought out of your mind, but this one… You pulled back slightly, mirroring his previous smirk as he whined at the loss of contact. There was a pout- as close as he could get to one, that is.

“Now why did you go and do that?” He threaded his fingers through your hair while he waited for an answer, eyes searching yours for any indication that he’d done something wrong or that you just weren’t feeling it. Little did he know, it was totally the opposite.

“You know…” you twirled one of his necklaces around your finger, “if you walked out and joined everyone looking like this,” your fingers moved to trace his collarbone. He was holding his breath, waiting to see what would come next. He knew what he hoped for, but he wouldn’t say it if you weren’t up for it. You leaned in close and whispered in his ear, “they would all want to fuck you.”

His eyes blew wide open and he pulled back to look you full in the face. He knew Jack would, but Anne? Flint? “No. If it was just Jack…”

“It’ll be all of them.” You knew how good he looked. He knew he looked good, and that he looked that good, but tempting Flint and the new Hamilton guy…? He wasn’t sure he was that good. But maybe… A grin began to creep across his face and suddenly a pit formed in your stomach. Uh oh…

“Maybe. Maybe not. What do you say to a bet, hmm?” His eyes sparkled and you knew that no matter how this played out, you were in trouble. You turned the thought over in your mind. You had an idea of what you wanted, but what he might want… oh dear.

You resisted melting into the soft strokes of his fingers on your waist and sat up a little straighter. You hoped your voice came out less shaky than you felt, “Terms?” You could feel the shudder up your spine and cursed him under your breath, but refused to break eye contact.

“You’re right, and we do whatever you want for the night. I win, and we do whatever I want for the night.” It was almost as if he saw the concern flicker across your face for the millisecond it was there, and his eyes softened. He brought his hand up to cup your cheek and smiled gently, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

You would have laughed if it wasn’t so sweet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to do anything, it was your concern that he would think you were only in this for his body that held you back. You knew his past and history with Eleanor, and you were determined that this would be different for the both of you. You smiled and leaned into his touch. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I hope you know that you don’t have to, and that I don’t expect it.”

He pulled you in for a soft kiss on the forehead and whispered, “I know. That’s why I don’t mind offering it.” You closed your eyes and just stayed there for a moment. If you’d known how to tell him how much you loved him, you would have. But you didn’t have the words, and you knew he didn’t either, so you both just let the statement hang there along with its implicit meaning of, “I trust you.” Knowing everything you did, that almost meant more to you coming from him than “I love you” could. Trust didn’t come easily to Charles Vane, and yet he gifted his to you. You shifted around in his lap and moved his hair out of the way, snuggling into his shoulder and planting a kiss on his neck. After a contented sigh, you pulled back and looked up at him.

“Deal.” You let the mischievous sparkle return to your eyes, knowing now that all was well. He raised an eyebrow down at you.

“How do we seal this?”

You leaned up and whispered into his lips, “How else?” After a quick kiss, you jumped from his lap and held out your hand. He pouted for a second. He wasn’t ready for you to get up yet. But, the promise of what was to come was too good, so he got up, took your hand, and followed you downstairs.

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

You took a moment to stand in the doorway and observe the goings on of the living room, then walked in being as unobtrusive as you could, and took a seat where you could see the gathered assembly. Anne was sharpening a cutlass, Jack and Featherstone were looking over accounts, Idelle and Max were chatting in the corner, Flint was reading Meditations for the umpteenth time and stroking Thomas Hamilton’s hair while the latter laid with his head on a pillow in the Captain’s lap. All in all, it was an adorable assembly- your family. You loved them, they loved you, and everyone loved Charles. Which made what was to come even better. You curled up with your book, holding it close to your face to hide the inevitable giggles at the reactions to his impending arrival. You’d decided to let yourself get settled before he would follow you in a couple of minutes later, so you took your time adjusting your blanket and folding your legs underneath you to make it look like you’d just decided to join the party. You earned a couple of smiles, but for the most part everyone stayed focused on what they were doing- just how you wanted it. Then, just as you got settled, Captain Vane sauntered into the room, and you enjoyed watching hell breaking loose in slow motion.

Thomas’s hand drifted up to Flint’s, distracting him from the book. Flint couldn’t help but start undressing Charles with his eyes, but after a second shook his head to get out of his daze. Thomas’s eyes raked over the other Captain, gripping Flint’s hand to remember that his lover was right there, but also… damn.

Anne looked up from her cutlass and did a double take. She was not going to eye him up and down. She was not going to- ehh, fuck it. She did it. How could she not?

Max watched him appreciatively, smiling a little as she watched Anne and made a note to tease her about it later. Idelle tried so very hard not to completely lose her cool- Featherstone was right there.

Speaking of Featherstone, he was something between impressed and depressed, somewhere between wanting to see what being with Charles would be like, but mostly just wanting to be Charles.

And Jack? Jack choked on his drink and slammed it down so hard that some of it splashed onto the accounts. His eyes bulged out of his head a little as Charles walked over and clapped him on the back a few times.

Charles shot you a wink before he leaned up and almost purred in Jack’s ear, “Easy there, Jack.”

You suppressed a giggle at the shade of red flowering onto Jack’s cheeks. It was cruel, it really was. But also a bit funny. You moved over to give him room to settle in beside you, and leaned back into his chest to resume your book.

He whispered in your ear, “Four for six. I win.”

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

Everything was ready: whipped cream, chocolate, strawberries, large bed ready to go…

…the ice cream, the pizza, the Netflix with the serial killer documentary.

“This is what you want?” You glanced incredulously around the assemblage and back to Charles. “Not like…”

“You’re always talking about how much you love these, so I decided that I wanted to watch one with you,” he shrugged like this was the most logical conclusion to come from a bet about whether or not an entire room of people would want to fuck him after getting out of the shower looking like a sex god. He patted the spot beside him. “Come here, the pizza’s getting cold. Also, I picked the one on the Night Stalker. That okay?”

You climbed in beside him and curled into his side. “You are the only reason I would watch this documentary again,�� you huffed, pulling a piece of pizza from the box.

“Thank you,” he pulled you tighter and kissed your hair. “Oh, and about the rest…”

You tilted your head up to meet his eyes. “Hmm?” You hummed sweetly.

“If you get scared, that can always be an alternative.” He winked down at you.

“Deal.”

[freedom-in-the-dark]

James Flint Is Gay: A Meta Post

[slides into the Black Sails fandom late with Starbucks]

Hey! What’s up! Here’s a post no one asked for but I wrote mostly for me. Before we get into it, I’ve got some big notices to put on the top here.

DISCLAIMER: If you interpret James as bi, and you prefer that, I am not trying to say you can’t do that or to convince you otherwise! 

You do you! If you’re not cool with seeing him as gay, please do us both a favor and keep scrolling past this post! I’m mildly aware that this fandom has a history of rough discourse surrounding this topic, but I cannot emphasize enough that I am new here, and this post is not an attack. Please do me the courtesy of not attacking me or blocking me or whatnot because I’m not trying to start drama lol. And for what it’s worth, I myself am bi (well, bi ace), so I’d like to think I’m being objective.

This post exists simply because I like to write meta out with my arguments / evidence lined up in a row; it gets things out of my head and onto a screen, and I find it satisfying. And if I’m doing it anyway, I might as well share.

So if you see James as gay, or have an open mind to that interpretation… please allow me to take you on this adventure under the cut. I’m sure it’s obvious, but this contains spoilers? Lol.

Here we go!

Compulsory Heterosexuality vs “Bi Erasure”

Firstly… to address some stuff I’ve seen in my limited Black Sails fandom travels right out of the gate: I’ve seen people imply that interpreting James as gay is “bi erasure,” or they ask “Why are you erasing that James was attracted to Miranda and had an affair with her?”

But to that I say: it’s far more complicated than that.

Gay people can have sexual relationships with people of the opposite sex, especially until / or before they identify as gay. This is how so many gay people can be married to the opposite sex and have biological kids, and then later realize their truth and come out to themselves and their families. Having those experiences or even some variation of actionable attraction to people of other sexes in the past doesn’t negate their ability to later identify as gay, once they stop burying those parts of themselves and/or experience something that “brings that part of them into the light.”

This is why the phrase compulsory heterosexuality exists. The phrase was originally coined by Adrienne Rich in a 1980 essay titled “Compulsory Heterosexuality and the Lesbian Experience.” So yes, let me make this clear: this term originated in reference to lesbians and feminist theory, and then the idea was later expanded upon to include discussions of gay men by other academics in the early 2000s. I’m not gonna dive too deeply into it here, but in essence–as the name implies–this is the idea that patriarchal and heteronormative societies are viewed as the default, so individuals are assumed (by themselves and otherwise) to be heterosexual until “proven” otherwise. Through these standards that are seen as “normal,” people are also taught from a young age–whether explicitly or subconsciously through society–that anything that deviates from those ~straight norms~ leads to negative consequences. And so, society encourages people to avoid sexual exploration, because having experiences with someone of the same sex is what can often bring their gay identity into focus.

In the case of Black Sails, this is all very much emphasized at the forefront because it’s a historical drama. Aside from racism/slavery, patriarchy and heteronormativity are what the characters are actively going to war against.

So, the point in me defining all of this? No one—or at least, not me—is saying that James didn’t have a sexual relationship with Miranda. That’s not in question. But that doesn’t necessarily make him bi, and it doesn’t mean the narrative isn’t structured in various ways that indicate otherwise.

Just keep this in the back of your brain, because I’m going to circle back around to it.

Anne, Flint, & Gay Rage

In the wise words of an old pirate captain: “Fruit, fruit. Tits, tits.” This show thrives on parallels, and gives us lines / scenes that apply to more than one character; it’s partially why the themes are so consistent, and if you ignore that, you can miss a lot of the nuance. Our resident angry gay gingers are one of the paralleled sets of characters.

This is not a meta about Anne… but talking about parts of Anne’s story can help to highlight some things about James’ story.

I tweeted this once: “Flint and Anne’s sexualities paralleled to show struggles with compulsive heterosexuality, fighting for the sake of fighting, bringing parts of themselves into the light, wrestling with being told they’re monsters and their distorted senses of self, etc.” and really, now I’m just here to elaborate.

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The word “monster” is a recurring theme in this show. It’s tied mostly to Flint and how he is told he is monstrous for loving a man, fears being “the villain” or “monster” in everyone’s stories, and eventually embraces that monstrous portrayal in service of his goals–even as the violence is slowly devastating to him. But the other character the word “monster” is used in reference to? Anne.

A quote by Max:

“Idelle, how would you feel if the one man you thought would never betray you did? If he purchased for himself a future through that betrayal? If you were told by a world full of men that that betrayal confirmed for them that they were right to see you as a monster to be shunned? She's not mad. She is adrift.”

In some ways, this quote is also the story of what has happened to James in his life, over and over. (Not to say this is what Jack intended to do to Anne, but the parallels inherent in Max’s line itself cannot be denied.) 

James is repeatedly betrayed by those he trusts: Admiral Hennessey; Peter Ashe; Hal Gates. All of them try to get him to conform to heteronormative society–including Gates, because even if he didn’t know it, that’s what he was doing by trying to get James to take a pardon. That’s why James reacts with such instinctual panic and kills him; the idea of being forced to apologize to and assimilate back into heteronormative society puts him at a breaking point. (It can even be argued that Miranda “betrays” James in this way too by trying to get him to take a pardon and go to Boston–which is where his “and they called me a monster” speech comes in–and that also contributed to how James later panics and kills Gates for trying to force him to do the same. Miranda tried in a well-meaning way to get James to move on, because she isn’t fully understanding what James wrestles with; but I’ll go back to that.)

Again, these parallels are deliberate. Anne and Flint are the two main gay characters who wrestle with their supposed “monstrosity” in the eyes of everyone else, because they don’t fit in. They are “othered.” It’s not simply about their violence; for these characters, it’s about what their violence is in service of achieving, which is tied to their sexuality.

Anne is seen as a “monster” for slaughtering the men who abused Max, who is not only a fellow woman but also a fellow lesbian, in a way that Anne is undeniably drawn to even before she lets herself acknowledge the feeling. We as viewers are meant to see this and understand this, and we do. Anne is ostracized for violence that was motivated by her sexuality, which is partially why Max tells her that she understands her violence and will protect her–because Max is not only also a woman in a patriarchal society, but she is gay too.

Flint is seen as a “monster” first and foremost by England, for his sexuality… and then, later, by everyone else for the actions he takes because of his sexuality. Again: the violence he commits cannot be divorced from his sexuality because it is the reason for it. It’s what informs it.

I tweeted about this once too, but in many ways Anne and Flint’s kindred displays of brutality and anger and “fighting for the sake of fighting” (a quote by Miranda which applies to them both) are informed by their desire/need for gay tenderness. The world has too often denied them that tenderness and their expressions of their sexualities, or demonized them for wanting it, and their violence is the result. 

Here’s a quote from Deborah Tolman with regards to how compulsory heterosexuality affects men, which she calls “hegemonic masculinity”:

"These norms demand that men deny most emotions, save for anger; be hard at all times and in all ways; engage in objectification of women and sex itself; and participate in the continuum of violence against women."

The anger and hardness is a huge part of the personas both Flint and Anne have to put on for survival. I include Anne in this because she uniquely lives her life in a “male” role to survive the male-dominated world of piracy, and she’s clearly not immune from these unspoken masculine guidelines: she refers to Max as “the whore” half the time as a defense mechanism. Flint and Anne lash out, they’re hard and angry and violent for the sake of their personas, and it’s all because... inside, they just want to be soft and gay with who they love.

Anne, Flint, & Compulsory Heterosexuality (Not Bi Erasure)

In Black Sails, we are shown the story of a gay person who has a consistent sexual relationship with someone of the opposite sex, but is running from internal truths about themselves in some ways in the process. That person is Anne.

Struggling with compulsory heterosexuality is explicitly Anne Bonny’s prime storyline in the show and that is not up for debate (and I’ve rarely seen people disagree); but I argue that it is also part of James’ storyline, and he is paralleled significantly with Anne to make that clear. It’s just overall more subtle because it’s not the prime focus of James’ story the way it is for Anne, because James’ realizations happened largely in the past and we’re seeing the aftermath of it. The parallels are there, and I’ll be breaking some of them down.

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From episode one, we are told that Anne has a sexual relationship with Jack…. But later on, she tells Jack that she “can’t be [his] wife,” even though they’ll be partners forever. Why? What changed? The answer is that she’s been with Max and realized that she’s gay. It doesn’t mean Anne didn’t have sex with a man in the past and even enjoy it on some level, but it does mean that she knows now that she was using that sex partially to distract from things about herself that she was doing her best to ignore.

Multiple lines by Max (to Anne) tell us this:

3x03: “When you and I began you did not choose me. Something that lives inside you beyond choice made it so.”

2x01: “But perhaps there is something else underlying it. Something hiding in a place not even you can see. Perhaps… we would do well to bring it into the light.”

Before I continue, let me remind you of something: when writers decide to show viewers something on screen, that is done with intent, especially in a show like Black Sails where not a single moment is wasted. Remember this. What they show us, and what they don’t show us, are both deliberate choices.

So what are we shown about Anne’s sexual relationship with Jack? We get exactly one scene of her having sex with him. We are shown Anne riding Jack in a way where neither party was particularly enthused. Does this mean they definitely never had sex in the past that they both enjoyed on some level? No. But they showed us this one scene on purpose: to emphasize the stark difference when Anne has enjoyable sex with Max, an experience that forever changes her.

So what are we shown about James’ sexual relationship with Miranda? We get exactly one scene of him having sex with her. It is the most depressing sex scene of all time, James is just lying there to try to be helpful for her to chase her own pleasure, and he doesn’t even touch her. Does this mean they never had sex in the past that they both enjoyed, especially back during their affair in London? No. But we are never shown any of that. We never see them have sex in London before James’ relationship with Thomas; we never see them having good sex with each other after it all goes to hell. And that is a deliberate choice.

Why? Because all of the above info about Anne and her compulsory heterosexuality journey also applies to James McGraw, and his relationships with Miranda and Thomas.

“They paint the world full of shadows... and then tell their children to stay close to the light. Their light. Their reasons, their judgments. Because in the darkness, there be dragons. But it isn't true. We can prove that it isn't true. In the dark, there is discovery, there is possibility, there is freedom in the dark once someone has illuminated it.”

The realizations James came to about his sexuality (just like Anne did) inform much of his tangled story with the Hamiltons, and much of the tragedy of Miranda and James’ situation after the loss of Thomas. We are shown the way James and Miranda are no longer perfectly aligned after that loss, and grief is undeniably a part of it… but it goes beyond that. It’s more complicated than that. 

That sad sex scene is not solely about grief; remember, that scene takes place ten years after they lose Thomas. It takes place during a time where Miranda is already thinking about and will soon actively try to tell James that they need to move on, without understanding why the loss of Thomas affects him in a profoundly different way than it affects her. I am not minimizing her loss or her grief whatsoever; but it is undeniably more complicated for James, and it’s why he can’t move on.

In episode 1x07:

James: “Have you no memory of how we got here? What they took from us?”

Miranda: “What does it matter now? What does it matter? What does it matter what happened then if we have no life now?”

James is, of course, appalled by this. I’ll talk about why momentarily.

The next time James is in Nassau (2x03), he goes to see Miranda and tries to apologize that night, but she’s otherwise engaged. So he stands outside of her window looking in, surrounded by darkness, while she’s playing the clavichord with children in the light. It is symbolically the domestic version of a heterosexual ideal. He is “othered” by the camera angles / framing, and the dark / light aspects. James is relegated to being an outsider literally because as Flint he’s a pirate, but metaphorically because he’s gay; the reason we as viewers are given that scene is to underscore that he feels he has no place in that display.

Ultimately, James is misaligned with Miranda after the loss of Thomas (shown in both the sad sex scene and arguments) in a way that goes beyond grief. The implication is that things cannot ever be the same for him again since the loss of “his truest love” and the truths he learned about himself.

If James and Miranda were simply at odds with one another because of grief, it would be far less of a “tragedy” in some ways. But James cannot heal the way Miranda slowly finds the way to over ten years, because Thomas signifies things for James that Miranda cannot relate to. In London, when Thomas is taken from them, Miranda even yells to James, “He is my husband!” Her grief and rage are shown as equal to James at the start and have extreme validity; the two of them are partners in the plan to kill Alfred Hamilton for revenge; but then she is able to somewhat move on, whereas James is not.

Why? Because, for James, Thomas was not just his (truest) love; Thomas was the awakening of his fullest self as a gay man.

In the same way that Anne can’t be Jack’s “wife” after she’s been with Max and realizes she’s gay, James cannot content himself with fulfilling the role of Miranda’s “husband” after he’s been with Thomas and realizes he’s gay. Neither of these facts minimize Anne’s love and devotion to Jack, or James’ love and devotion to Miranda; they are undeniably two sets of partners. But Anne and James are forever altered by their experiences with same sex lovers, and the truths about themselves that were brought into the light as a result.

----

Another part of the tragedy of James and Miranda is what happens right when we see Miranda grasp the significance of all of the above. Whether or not she grasped it before in the past, we are shown it only once on screen, and that’s in Charlestown. 

Peter Ashe says this in 2x09:

“You will tell them about the affair with Thomas. You will tell them how it ended. You will explain to them what it drove you to do. You will reveal everything. And when you do, Captain Flint will be unmasked, the monster slain. And in his place will stand before all the world a flawed man, a man that England can relate to and offer its forgiveness.”

This is James’ worst nightmare; we know as such from what he told Miranda back in 1x07, and from when he killed Gates. And yet, here and now in 2x09, he is exhausted from pushing back against heteronormative society, all he wants is to retire the mantle of Flint born of gay rage, and he actually contemplates playing by their rules and giving into their judgements of his sexuality... until Miranda comes to his defense.

In season 1, Miranda didn’t seem to fully understand James’ thoughts on this, but here–in combination with her realizations about Peter Ashe’s betrayals–she finally does. And she’s not having it.

“What forgiveness are you entitled to while you stand back in the shadows pushing James out in front of the world to be laid bear for the sake of the truth? Tell me, sir, when does the truth about your sins come to light?”

And the moment she is yelling in rage on behalf of James, and their combined loss, and how Peter would dare to force James to experience shame about his sexuality again–she is instantly shot for it. A woman who’s yelling on behalf of a gay man? In a patriarchal heteronormative society? It has no place. England makes that clear.

It all further underlines James’ sense of “otherness”... and now he decides to embrace it, even at his own emotional detriment. He will no longer try to fit in or reason with them; he will no longer accept their halfway measures of pardons. He can’t, because in the eyes of England, all that he is as a gay man is abhorrent.

2x10: “Everyone is a monster to someone. Since you are so convinced that I am yours, I will be it.”

3x05, to the Maroon Queen: “...England takes whatever, whenever, however it wants. Lives. Loves. Labor. Spirits. Homes. It has taken them from me. I imagine that it has taken it from you.”

The Way James Views Miranda

And here is where I simply give you more food for thought–or further “evidence” of James being gay, if you will.

All of Flint’s lines about how he views Miranda are worded very, very deliberately.

Here’s a minor one, from 1x05:

“So you can probably guess it isn't as much fun to tell stories about how your captain makes a home with a nice Puritan woman who shares his love of books.”

There is nothing overtly romantic or sexual about this. It’s said in a one-on-one conversation with Billy, where Flint neither has to make the relationship sound like something it isn’t nor refuse to give any info whatsoever. So he goes with what is the seemingly-mild truth.

But 3x01, convincing the men to forego pardons:

“But what price surrender? To beg forgiveness from a thing that took my woman from me? My friend?”

“My woman” is what Flint says for the benefit of the men… these men who are part of the heteronormative world they all live in, and still value sexual relationships with women above all else. It’s about hegemonic masculinity, remember? (“Objectification of women and sex itself.”) He’s doing his best to speak their language. 

But “my friend” is a secondary line that was not needed for the purposes of this speech, but James could not keep himself from adding it in a quieter tone–because that’s who Miranda was to him. His friend. Not his woman, which drips sexism and sexual undertones. Not his wife. Not even his “love,” which he could’ve used if he wanted to be ambiguous and sneak a Thomas reference in; he said “my woman” to appeal to the men, and then he added “my friend” because in the face of her memory he couldn’t help it.

And lastly, in 3x03, we begin to hear from “ghost Miranda.” 

But what is ghost Miranda? She’s a voice from James’ traumatized mind. Everything she says to him is about truths he already knows and/or things he is hiding from himself. So what “she” says here is a voice from James’ mind; it’s about how James sees her, and subtly elaborates on his sexuality in the process.

“When I first met you, you were so... Unformed. And then I spoke and bade you cast aside your shame, and Captain Flint was born into the world... the part of you that always existed yet never were you willing to allow into the light of day. I was mistress to you when you needed love. I was wife to you when you needed understanding. But first and before all... I was mother. I have known you like no other. So I love you like no other. I will guide you through it, but at its end is where you must leave me. At its end is where you will find the peace that eludes you, and at its end lies the answer you refuse to see.”

This does not diminish Miranda’s importance to James in the least! In fact, it emphasizes it, and it is all part of why he is so ruined over her! But it is also, in the oddest way, an elaboration upon how he isn’t bi: Miranda was his partner in many things, including shared grief and revenge and some semblance of life for ten long years; and she was also was instrumental to his formation of himself as a person (“mother”), and his acceptance of himself as a gay man (“love” and “understanding”). This is how he sees her. Mistress and wife were roles she filled in his life, but above all, she contributed to the birth of Captain Flint–the personification of James’ gay rage.

Of course, the “answer” that ghost Miranda (the depths of James’ brain) alludes to here as well as her later words of “you are not alone” are all about James needing to recognize that Silver is a newfound partner and love for him… but that’s a whole other meta entirely.

Closing Thoughts

Look, did I consult a couple of specific scenes and look up transcripts to put quotes in this? Yes. But have I still only seen the show in its entirety once? Also yes. My point in mentioning this is that, if I did a full rewatch, there might even be more evidence I haven’t mentioned here. This isn’t meant to be comprehensive, but I do feel that it... certainly conveys the gist of the mood.

You may still agree to disagree if you prefer to see James Flint as bi; I’m not here to fight you on it and what queer characters mean to you personally. 

But for me, when surveying all available evidence, the narrative screams that he’s gay. In that sense, my thoughts on this matter are similar to my thoughts on the ending; sure, you can interpret it one way if you look at certain details, but if you take in all the evidence and the big picture as a whole… there’s a specific conclusion to be drawn.

Last thing I’ll say is this: Steinberg himself has said that Flint is gay, which I found out way after watching the show and forming this interpretation. And like... not that if I wanted to hardcore argue he was bi I wouldn’t disregard Steinberg’s words, because in my experience the narrative speaking for itself is always more important than than creators’ words, but... in this instance (as in all Black Sails instances I’ve come across), his words just underscore what the well-crafted narrative is already telling us, because the creators wrote this show with intent. They knew what they were doing.

And thus, I will quote him (from these GIFs) below.

“When we were trying to build the story, we wanted whatever this thing was that made [Flint] feel alienated to be so deeply tied into who he was that there was no way he was every going to dismiss this thing that happened to him. We wanted to make sure we understood what the reality was in England in terms of how homosexuality was perceived. In some ways it was more tolerated, in some ways it was significantly less tolerated. I think in terms of Flint being gay, it’s about the fact that it is a tool that is used politically when convenient to make somebody be a monster… and it isn’t even really about the relationship.”

(If you buy the series on iTunes, you get an “inside” look at every episode, including this one from 2x05.)

EDIT: I had no idea Toby Stephens basically confirmed my thoughts that James' relationship with Thomas was his actualization as a gay man, so excuse me as I lose my mind for a moment:

“I think his relationship to Thomas Hamilton, the initial friendship and then becoming lovers is sort of like the realization of himself. I think he became himself with Thomas Hamilton. His potential was unleashed with Hamilton.”

And just for fun, since I’m here anyway, here’s a piece of a Steinberg quote about Anne from the Fathoms Deep podcast.

“In terms of Rackham and Bonny, I think that was another thing that I assumed for a long time could never go away. That they were essentially, you know, that they were married. You know not legally, but they were functionally married. And then this story happened in Season 2 with Bonny, that I think with like with a gun to my head of things that I’m proud of with the show, probably at the top is this story of this woman coming out and understanding that she’s gay. . . And so when we got to a point where it was like, I think she’s gay? Like I don’t think this is something we want to be wishy-washy about. It required getting over that hump with Rackham of, ‘Well like what am I going to do with this relationship? I don’t want to split them up?’ And I think it became something way more interesting.”

Thanks for coming to my TED talk. I love James Flint and his gay rage, I love you if you read all of this, and I love my friend @sunbardy who dealt with me yelling about this in DMs and then proofread the doc.

Hit me up on Twitter @gaypiracy if you want, where I do most of my Black Sails related yelling. And shitposting. Because I contain multitudes.

Know No Shame, my friends.

[dykesforcyclops]

maxanor + 54) things you always meant to say but never got the chance

54. things you always meant to say but never got the chance.

what remains of eleanor guthrie never left nassau. when max returns, victorious, at last, to the shores of this place that has caused them all such grief, she finds her lover’s body laid out in the governor’s manor, as cold and white as marble. she has been cleaned, prepared for burial - and, in the confusion, left there, attended only by her dutiful coroner.

he has been waiting for her husband to return. he calls her mrs. rogers, when he asks what is to be done with her, and addresses the question to featherstone, and max wants to strike him.

marion guthrie would have her ferried to philadelphia, to be entombed in some family crypt - in the cold, in the marble, far from salt water. max pens a very polite letter to inform her, unequivocally, that this will not occur.

there is no funeral. there are many still on this island who would gladly piss on her grave if they knew where to find it. jack laughs into his glass when max requests his attendance - still hates her, she supposes, on behalf of that man. max wonders if jack ever thinks of what was done to her at the word of the man he holds such reverence for. she wonders whether he is aware at all that for all the loyalty anne bore him to the end, she has never respected him since. she wonders only idly, and then puts the thoughts to bed. they are not useful.

there is a garden behind the governor’s house where eleanor’s mother is interred. max knows of this place. she thinks she may be among the last living people to know of this place, the only person save scott who eleanor ever permitted to accompany her to lay flowers here. this, she thinks, is where she would want to be - not encased in stone in philadelphia, but here where the sand mingles with the soil, here where the air tastes of salt, here where she laid her life long before she laid it down. she shrouds herself in black, and employs two men to carry the coffin and two more to dig. she is sure idelle and featherstone would attend, had she asked, but she did not. anne stands at her side. she did not need to be asked.

the name carved in the headstone is guthrie.

as peace settles again over nassau, max finds the time to walk down to the garden, to sit amid the foliage, to shut her eyes and let the warm wind stir her hair, and to think of eleanor’s fingers.

“i wish that you could see what this place has become,” she says quietly to the wind. “all the things you always believed possible that have at last come to pass.”

she finds, among what is left of eleanor’s things, the little pendant of a honeybee she had worn so often in those last months. a gift from her husband. such a pretty and delicate thing, but when eleanor had fiddled it between her fingers, tugged at it, it had always resembled a shackle. 

“i threw it from the docks,” she confesses to the breeze. “i am sorry. i have... no idea if you would be angry or relieved. but i hated the damn thing.”

summer comes, and she traces shapes in the dirt with her pointer finger, and thinks of the circles she would draw on eleanor’s bare back.

“i did forgive you,” she says.

summer goes. “does it help?” anne asks her, eventually, after she has watched in silence god knows how many times as max left with bundled flowers in her arms, returned emptyhanded with eyes red and gaze lowered. she has stopped to lean in the doorway as max passes back and forth to fill the tub.

max sprinkles crushed lavender into the hot water. she shrugs off her robe, and anne is there to take it from her. she does not have to glance over her shoulder before she lets go her grasp on the thin fabric, but knows anne will be there to take it.

“not especially,” she admits. anne’s hand is there for her to take, to steady herself as she steps into the tub. she does not have to lift her eyes to look for it, but knows anne will be there to steady her.

“then why d’you go?” anne lowers herself to the floor as max lowers herself into the water. she rests her arm on the side of the tub. “you don’t owe it to her.”

this, max thinks, is both true and untrue, but she does not say it. anne would argue. 

“it is hard to put in words,” she says, and draws her fingertips through the surface of the water, and thinks of the softness of eleanor’s hair. “there are things which need to be said.”

“she can’t hear you,” anne says.

max smiles sadly. “no,” she agrees. “but i can.”

send me a prompt and i'll write a short fic

[angryhausfrau-writes]

I Travel Troubled Oceans: Chapter 19 - In Which Jack and Charles Secure Planning Permission and Max Micromanages

Mary had liked several of Charles's photographs of Jack and the workroom and the half-finished fashions enough to post them to Instagram. And she'd liked the photograph of Charles all decked out in silk and countless jewels enough to use it as the title page for a more formal press announcement of the upcoming fashion show. The word “DECADENCE” is emblazoned across a glossy version of the picture in a stark, masculine font.

And then, in slightly smaller font underneath: Jack Rackham – Fall/Winter 2009.

His name. His name. Not quite in lights, but there, for everyone to see. For everyone to know that he is the one who did this. That these accomplishments are his.

Not that he did it all himself, of course. Mary's role is obvious. Christine is indispensable. And it's Charles's face on the cover of his press release.

The may have called Charles his muse as a joke. It seems like the sort of thing a flamboyant fashion designer would call his favorite booty call. Just the right side of pretentiously obfuscating for the older guard who might not be ready for the party boy persona they've both adopted.

But the honest truth is that Jack's come to rely on Charles in a way he hadn't quite expected for this con.

It's not exactly in Chaz's wheelhouse, is the thing. But he's worked hard to learn skills outside bashing skulls, just as Anne has.

Not that he doesn't do plenty of that as well. And gotten some good information out of it. But he's more than the street thug he'd been for so long. And Jack can't say he misses those days – not when the days they have now are so much easier.

So much less full of fear and strife and poverty.

It's almost like an extended holiday, the way they live now. All getting to pretend they're rich and soft and genteel. Getting to walk among the special, the exalted, the beautiful people. The ones with titles and money and pedigree. The ones with names that mean something.

Well now Jack's name means something too.

And not through an accident of birth. Through cleverness and planning. Through luck, of course, but also through plain hard work. Something those gilded, pampered elite would never understand.

--

Charles has been given a slight reprieve in lugging armoires around. The old Hennessy house has been emptied of all the furniture, finally, and Mary's light rigs have all been installed. All the walls repainted and all the pictures of grand empty rooms taken.

But then Max sees the reaction the upper crust have to those pictures. All the ruined grandeur on display, just to be knocked over to make way for progress, for new ways of making money – they fucking love it, the rich brainless investment fuckers.

So now Max wants to take advantage of that greed she's awoken in the elitist twits in thousand pound suites. That desire for wealth, for faded grandeur, for a past of riches and glory and conquest. But brought into the future. Brought into the now. So they can pretend England isn't just some pretentious backwater with delusions of grandeur, with visions of glory (that was never all that glorious) long past.

So Mary decides, yeah, it would be a fucking great idea to do a little promotional photo shoot of all the models for Jack's fashion show in the house, before it gets demolished. Jewel bright clothes, sparkling gems, enough gold to sink a fucking warship, all juxtaposed – that'd been the word she'd used - all fucking juxtaposed against the backdrop of the ruined townhouse.

So Jack'd worked like a fiend to get the clothes ready. And Charles's break is over.

Now he gets to lug around garment bags and makeup trunks and jewelry chests and even more light rigs – all to be placed precisely where Mary dictates, and moved with the changing light or her changing whims. All that shit's fucking heavy. And Anne's no help this time because she's been set to wrangling all the models and making sure they're properly primped and preened and posed for the photos. All under Max and Mary's watchful eyes.

Cuz Max has apparently decided that she wants to have her hand in things personally.

Not that she hadn't kept things well in hand with Jack's other fashion show – finding the models, organizing the behind the scenes contracts. Setting Idelle up with Featherstone.

But now she's actually telling Mary how she wants the pictures to look. Or more specifically, that she wants some big fancy painting in all the shots. Not the whole paining, though. Just pieces of it. Enough to tantalize, to excite, but not to show the goods.

There's even a picture where the models are holding it at the front of the shot, but it's covered by a lacy black cloth, all except for one corner, which pokes out like a whore's ankle in some repressed 1700s pin up.

Charles thinks the whole thing's fucking unnecessary. Who gives a shit if there's a painting showing too much or too little in the shot? Why does he have to be the one to move it over and over again – sometimes millimeter by fucking millimeter – until Max deems it just right? He's got other things to do with his day, thank you very fucking much.

Like pretending to be Jack's ditsy muscular boytoy, and all the hours in the gym and gossiping by the pool that takes to maintain. He better get another fucking break when all this shit is over.

--

With investors sniffing at Max's skirts like rabid jackals, ready to rip each other apart for a chance at the Hennessy townhouse, Jack broaches the topic of planning permission to Councilor Featherstone. And he does it over dinner in a private room at a restaurant where the esteemed councilor could never have gotten a reservation – and especially not on such short notice. Because for all that he has power. For all that he attends all the right clubs – the same clubs Jack himself attends. Well, the councilor's a bit of a social outcast. A bit of a dud in the personality department.

Whereas Jack is all glib charm and meaningless flirtation. Jack knows how to play the sort of high society games that result in the private table on nearly no notice that the councilor is currently enjoying.

What is it they say? Always come to the negotiating table with the outcome already certain? Well, Jack's doing his damnedest to stack the deck in his favor. And if a little show of how well connected he is, how much more he belongs in this world of high-society fops and casual displays of obscene wealth, is what it takes to get Max her planning permission, then Jack will wine and dine Featherstone at the goddamn Ritz if he has to.

Although the slightly less-upscale, though no less entrenched in British upper-class hegemony, restaurant he's chosen for tonight seems to be doing the trick well enough. Councilor Featherstone is looking around with ill disguised awe.

If he were slightly more uncouth, Jack imagines his jaw would be actually agape at all the gilt and velvet and fine linens and sparkling crystal. As it is, it's more than obvious Jack has introduced him to a style of dining out that he's never experienced before. Perfect.

The entire point of this little excursion is to underline to Councilor Featherstone what a... fruitful... relationship they can have. All Jack's connections and wealth at the councilor's fingertips – and all he needs to do is pass the occasional planning permission for a project that otherwise may have languished in limbo for years. And to that end, Charles is doing his considerable best to bring the conversation around to where Jack needs it to go, namely planning permission for the Hennessy house.

A conversation that demonstrates that Charles has become considerably more subtle than Jack ever believed him capable of.

And perhaps that is an oversight on Jack's own part. Him never deigning to look past Charles's rough and unpolished exterior to hidden – really very well hidden – depths. Known for a straightforward style of smash and grab, Charles has really developed a mind for strategy of late. And something of a silver tongue, though it doesn't come close to rivaling Jack's own.

At any rate, Jack appreciates his efforts. Lord Hamilton may have been willing to come right out and ask for little favors, so assured of his power and his place in the London hierarchy he would eschew subtlety entirely - but there's such a thing as being too forward.

Jack finds that method rather gauche. And the last thing he wishes to be is gauche.

Plus, Jack would rather have the councilor's regard – his friendship, even if it is a tad one-sided – than his fear purchased compliance. Because fear may breed deference in the short term, but it leads to chafing at the yoke in the long run. And Councilor Featherstone didn't get to where he is today by being a complete pushover.

So Charles is sitting in this opulent private dining room, as the councilor sips champagne and enjoys expensive hors d'oeuvres, chatting to Idelle about a spa he went to with some of his “friends” from the health club. Which isn't even a lie. Charles had in fact attended a quote girls day unquote at an upscale spa courtesy of one of the women who lounges poolside and looks over her designer sunglasses at the tanned skin Charles is so very unconcerned with putting on display.

The fact that it was a nude spa may have had something to do with Charles being invited. But it sounds as if Charles had a nice enough time. Or at least he's talking it up to Idelle, who makes suitable sounds of impressed jealousy as the story unfolds. Commenting that she'd rather like to be taken to something like that – perhaps on a date?

Personally, Jack would pay enormous amounts of money to not see Featherstone in the alltogether – but Idelle is a consummate professional and lets no sign of displeasure at the idea show. Maybe Max ought to consider giving her a raise. Jack resolves to raise the issue once planning permission has been secured. Speaking of -

“The only thing,” Charles says, voice measured to ensure that Councilor Featherstone is paying the utmost attention. “The only thing I didn't particularly care for was how crowded the spa was.”

“Indeed,” Jack butts in, “that hardly sounds relaxing. Being surrounded by all the teeming masses.”

“Oh, the actual spa part was lovely. So relaxing after a long, hectic week...”

Jack can see Councilor Featherstone's scoffing disbelief that Charles could have anything resembling a hectic week – his schedule filled with nothing more than lounging in various decorous poses on various expensive surfaces, as far as the councilor is aware. But he has some long, hectic weeks at work...

“But as soon as you're back in the more public areas, all that work at relaxing and destressing – gone!”

“Oh, how terrible!” Idelle exclaims with just the right amount of dramatic disbelief.

“And it was supposed to be one of the more exclusive spa packages as well. You think money would go a bit further nowadays, is all,” Charles finishes. And now all that's left to do is set up the pitch...

Right on cue, Idelle chimes in with, “Too bad there isn't a more private spa. Someplace intimate.” The last is directed at Featherstone, who's blushing and looks primed for the sell.

“Funny you should mention that,” Jack says causally – but not too casually. That's the key. They have to think you're playing them a little so they won't look too deeply at how you're actually playing them. “I happen to have a friend who's looking to start up a little boutique hotel spa. You know where the Hennessy townhouse is?”

The councilor nods, although Jack doubts he was ever actually invited there.

“Well, my friend got it for a song. They were looking to move to warmer climes, you know. And she got an excellent deal for the whole package – house and furniture and everything. Which turned out to be a good thing! The whole place was falling apart, if you can believe. Just completely structurally unsound.” Jack says the last part as if it's the most boring thing in the world.

“So anyway, she's looking to rebuild. Plenty of investors already lined up around the block, of course. And there's mixed zoning, you know. And she doesn't exactly need yet another house to sit empty and eat up heating costs. Plus the cleaning service – you know how much they'll gauge you.”

Pretending that the councilor has a maid service – when Jack knows for certain he doesn't, which is why he doesn't entertain at home much – is another stab at just how different he is from the upper crust.

“Yes, of course,” Councilor Featherstone responds. “They'll take an arm and a leg.”

“So she came on the idea of the hotel and spa. For the country set, or celebrities, or whoever wants a little privacy when visiting the city.” Rich men with mistresses. Government officials with less than acceptable girlfriends. Whoever.

“That sounds lovely,” Idelle chimes in. “Perhaps we might do a spa day there sometime, dear.”

“Oh. Oh I don't know,” the councilor responds, obviously thinking of the enormous price tag attached to something like that.

“We could do a double date,” Charles gushes. “Oh, Idelle! What an excellent idea!”

“Oh, I'm certain I could arrange something like that,” Jack is quick to assure the increasingly panicked looking councilor. “Given that the proposal comes from a close personal friend. I imagine I can talk her into pulling a few strings with whoever purchases the building so we get first crack at it.”

A delicate pause. Calculated to be just enough to let the councilor experience euphoric relief that his problem has been solved - that Jack has been the one to solve it – before bringing it all crashing down.

“Of course, that's assuming the project moves forward any time in the next decade. You of all people know what London real estate is like.”

“You said the lot was zoned for mixed use?” Featherstone asks desperately. He's so close to giving Idelle her heart's desire of the current moment and he can see it slipping away.

Jack nods.

He's not even lying. There are several businesses on that street dating to just after the Great London Fire that necessitate the designation. Plus one unbearably posh cupcake bakery charging upwards of a tenner for a single cupcake.

“Well, then it should be no problem. I can even take a look at everything personally - just to make sure it's all in order, of course.”

“Oh, darling!” Idelle exclaims rapturously. “Would you?”

“Of course, dear. Anything for you.”

Perfect.

Charles grins at Jack, wolflike. And then steers the conversation to other idle gossip about the rich and famous.

Best not to let the councilor dwell too long on what just happened.