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tygerbug · 9 months

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DOCTOR WHO: THE CHURCH ON RUBY ROAD (2023): A Christmas special and the first full story for Ncuti Gatwa as the Doctor and Millie Gibson as their friend Ruby Sunday. Unusually, Gatwa got a lot of screen time in the previous special, "The Giggle," presumably so that viewers could get used to the new actor, but this is Gatwa's first proper outing. While the three specials with David Tennant were a much-appreciated throwback to what the show was in 2007, this one shows what the show will be going forward. It immediately feels more modern than the previous specials, despite having the same showrunner (a returning Russell T Davies) and production team. In most respects it's standard Doctor Who fare, but the differences appear in subtler choices about tone and presentation, which show that a lot has changed since 2007.

The good news, and biggest question to be answered, is that Ncuti Gatwa has the charisma to carry the series. There is a lot going on in this performance, some of it unexplained.

What is clear is that Gatwa is extremely charming, to the point where the Doctor's first interactions with other characters tend to raise the question, is this flirting? The performance then goes on to clarify that the answer is no, but we see how people quickly fall under the Doctor's spell, charmed by that smile. This is also the most explicitly queer Doctor Who. While other Doctors had variations on one basic outfit, Gatwa's Doctor changes outfits frequently and cares about being fashionable - fashion which initially mirrors Ruby's. Gatwa is athletic and muscular, and prefers low necklines that show that off. We've seen this Doctor with bare legs and bare arms, and lots of interesting costumes. The actor's reactions to situations often feel gay-coded, or at least unbothered about being perceived that way. Doctor Who has often been very clearly gendered in the past, with the Doctor standing strong against the monsters while the female companion cowers in fear. Gatwa seems happy to play both sides of that role as needed, projecting either unshakeable charisma and confidence, or occasionally the sort of submissive fear response we'd expect from a Jo Grant. What this means for Millie Gibson's Ruby Sunday, we'll have to see.

Their time onboard the goblin ship also involves a full-on musical number, with singing and dancing, although David Bowie (Labyrinth) is not involved, having passed in 2016. Russell T Davies included newly-written musical numbers in his Christmas specials when running the show previously, but it's never been quite this overt.

Earlier, they go out dancing at an LGBT-friendly club, with the Scottish Gatwa in a kilt and yellow tank top, fully raving. Trans actress Mary Malone (The Prince) sings onstage accompanied by Ruby on keyboards. Mary is a minor character but it's enough that she's there. Trans actor Pete McHale has also been cast for the series, and Yasmin Finney (Heartstopper) of course appeared in "The Star Beast." Jinkx Monsoon (RuPaul's Drag Race) has been cast as a villain. Star names include Neil Patrick Harris in The Giggle and Jonathan Groff (Hamilton).

The casual subtext here is that people of color exist, and LGBT people exist, and are important to these stories. People who are not cishet white men exist. This has been the case, behind the scenes, on Doctor Who, since the very beginning, with the first episodes directed by Waris Hussein and produced by Verity Lambert, with a theme produced by Delia Derbyshire. However, this wasn't always reflected onscreen. Classic Doctor Who always had a gay fanbase, and had leaned into that by the 1980s. And Russell T Davies' 2005 Doctor Who worked harder to appeal to women, foregrounding the character of Rose Tyler and playing up the romantic aspect of The Doctor himself. However, there was a strong negative reaction, within the older fandom, to the casting of Jodie Whittaker and Jo Martin as The Doctor. A large chunk of the existing fanbase outed themselves as overtly bigoted.

For his part, Russell T Davies has been including elements in these specials which seem intended to drive these viewers away, such as Donna discussing (in Wild Blue Yonder) how gay the Doctor is really, or the Doctor asking The Meep The Meep's pronouns. Hopefully the bigots have stopped watching by now, so we won't have to hear much more of their whining. I have heard a lot of complaints about the unusual new Sonic Screwdriver, enough that I suspect they're really complaining about the unusual new Doctor Who. There is not, otherwise, much to complain about yet.

The monster of the week plot is a bit weak, and there's a lot about these goblins which isn't explained, and which is handwaved away quickly. The Doctor, at least, gets to waffle on about deciphering a language made up of ropes, knots, accidents, cracks and coincidences. That part sounds interesting, and suggests something evocative which isn't quite explained in full. The goblins also look good - mostly practical suits, and using every penny of the money Disney is adding to the coffers of these specials. An overarching mystery, or two, is also set up, involving Ruby Sunday's parentage … and neighbors. Davies had already hinted that an overarching villain (or villains) was coming, and this is a similar but more subtle way to keep viewers watching, until all is revealed. Running time is a bit of a problem here. The first twenty minutes pass slowly, while the last fifteen minutes cut a lot of corners. We don't have time for that, the show says, or we don't have time for that this week anyway.

Ncuti (pronounced Shuti) also excels at the real-world drama here, especially in a strangely-written scene with Ruby's adoptive mother, in which both are aware that something is missing, or has gone terribly wrong, but they're talking around their feelings about it. Here, Michelle Greenidge dampens the warmth and charm we've seen in other scenes with her, and won't look the Doctor in the eye. We must assume we'll be returning to this situation later, as there is unresolved story and it's populated with character actors -- Angela Wynter as the grandmother, Anita Dobson as the neighbor Mrs Flood, writer Gemma Arrowsmith as a social worker.

As for Millie Gibson as Ruby Sunday, the writing is a bit of a problem here, because it takes the character awhile to warm up. She is written strangely during the first twenty minutes of the special, and has very little reaction to the strange events around her. She is introduced doing an interview with TV presenter Davina McCall, which is not quite as relatable as, say, Rose Tyler eating some chips. But I respect that, for a character who initially appears to be Rose Tyler Again, the writing and performance resists the urge to make her literally that, at least in this episode. In practice this means that the character takes some very strange and disturbing events in stride as if they're normal, or as if they're nothing … then has a delayed reaction to it all at the very end of the special, both emotionally and in terms of figuring out what's just happened. I liked her a lot more in these moments, since we can now actually tell what she's thinking. It is made explicit in the script that she is having a delayed reaction and couldn't stop to think about all of this until now. Which is … strange.

Of course Ruby trusts The Doctor immediately and that explains most of her performance here, but there's something lacking in the writing, in terms of presenting Ruby as an actual normal human woman. (Clara Oswald had a similar problem.) Perhaps it's just that Russell T Davies lacks recent life experience of this kind. It feels like a later Marvel movie, where so many cataclysmic and magical things have occurred that people don't react to them like a normal person would anymore. This extends to the plot as well. Something happens to Ruby's family home which is absolutely a major problem, and which does not get solved during this special. I am reminded of how Rose Tyler, Donna Noble, and Amy Pond had to be relatable, while others like Clara Oswald simply had to be there. Is Ruby, like Clara, simply a mystery to be solved? She certainly has chemistry with Ncuti and fits well enough into (what we used to call) the traditional companion role.

Despite a typical Doctor Who plotline, and the presence of Russell T Davies as showrunner, this doesn't quite feel like 2000s Doctor Who. It's clearly a piece of streaming television in 2023, and that has changed the show in ways which are hard for me to define. I am curious how this will play out in the full series, once I have a better idea of what Russell T Davies and company are up to here.

As far as technical concerns go, it is typical for current television series to be a bit dark and murky. There shows were often shot as low contrast video, which would look very grey as raw footage, and then graded for HDR monitors that do not exist yet for the average viewer. In this respect, this special is a lot better than you'd expect, and actually better than the previous specials. It doesn't have the super-bright, overlit look of Doctor Who of old, but you can see everything, and there's usually a bright, contrasty rim light making Ncuti Gatwa's features stand out, as well as Millie Gibson's. The tradeoff with this is that the photography and editing rely too much on closeups, which are often a bit too close. It's not especially moody, but it's not an especially moody story. It's also fairly colorful. A club scene uses what Youtubers call "bisexual lighting," and most exterior scenes are surprisingly diffuse and subtle, with flatteringly soft visuals. This could pass for a current feature film, on the lower budget side, and the key locations of Ruby's family home and a pirate ship are convincingly portrayed. The audio is where I had the biggest issue, although it may be my setup. It sounded like this was mixed for 5.1 rather than the stereo speakers I was using, although everything was audible and it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

The Church at Ruby Road is a good showcase for Ncuti Gatwa's intensely charismatic and charming Doctor, which is all it really needs to be. Despite the presence of Russell T Davies, and familiar Doctor Who tropes, it feels different from 2000s Doctor Who in ways which aren't easy to define. Stylistic traits from the Chibnall and Moffat eras of the show seem to have survived into this one, more than I would have expected. Millie Gibson's Ruby Sunday is pleasant enough, but frustratingly hard to get a handle on as a character. (Think Clara Oswald rather than Rose Tyler.) The language of television and film has changed in the past two decades, and I think that's affected how these characters are written and portrayed, in ways that feel a bit distancing, at this point. I'll have more of an opinion about this as the series goes. But it's a good start and we'll see where things go from here. It's also a fresh start, with The Doctor alone again, rather than hanging out with Bonnie Langford. It's bold and confident about what it's doing, and overtly queerer than the show has been before, with or without the aid of Bonnie Langford. I am not, at this point, entirely sure what the show is actually doing, but I'm interested in finding out.

#doctor who #the church on ruby road #millie gibson #ruby sunday #ncuti gatwa #russell t davies #15th doctor

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unknownentry404 · 2 years

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Please. No attacks. No judgement. But all I ask is that you do not buy the game. And if you did, try to return it. And just pirate it instead, if you must play it.

All you gain, is money back. And all we gain is someone else, taking even the smallest of stands.

In an ideal world, no one would play it. But I also understand. And everyone is dealing with this as best they can.

I’ve been dealing with it very weirdly myself this year. I got back into Drarry fiction somehow? And have consumed so much media breaking down the mess that was JKRs writing.

And I’ve found it cathartic, just tearing it all apart and making something new from it. Reading queer reimaginings of her work I know she’d hate.

So I definitely get the appeal to play the game.

Just, if you have to play it, definitely pirate it and. . . please use it as an opportunity to think of us? Think of the genocide that’s being raged against us trans people, in this day, because of people like JKR. As the right try to erases us, through any means necessary. .

You know, I’m personally living in the UK and trying to get my name and marker changed, so the Scottish bill that got shut down by UK government is especially relevant to me. It would not have affected me directly, but damn would it have been beautiful if it did.

So, currently, I’m almost 29 and I’ve had my new name since I chose it in a Pokémon savefile I started in January 2020. Still have the first Cinderace and everything. :’)

It took me a long time to be sure this was the one though: I’ve been coming up with weird little names since I could remember (kinda sus) and always regretted them later. They always felt childish when I looked back on them, and made me feel embarrassed. So I had to sit on this one a while before I’d let even close friends call me it. Let alone fully socially transition.

But it’s been three years now. And I’m sure.

It’s stuck with me now and I no longer can hear my deadname without cringing.

However, problem is, I’ve not got much in the way of “officially” recognised documents, before the very end of 2021. So even though I’ve been internally transitioned for three years, and knew I was trans for even longer, it’s been very tough. Because they require 2+ years from 2 different sources. (Along with 2 gender diagnosis certificates).

And bloody hell, I just want my life to begin, you know? I’m sick of living in this cage.

The Scottish bill would have made it only three months proof, and removed the formal, expensive, time-waiting diagnosis letters to boot. Only good things. Doesn’t mean someone could change their name on a whim, (official documentation is stuff like bills, doctors offices, etc; one does not simply change such things lightly), but that when they do, they are able to.

And JKR, being the powerful person she is, is directly involved in shaping the discourse around trans people here in the UK, which directly influenced the environment that made people rush to block that bill. The first time Britain has used its power to do so, to step in and OVERTURN a Scottish ruling, I believe.

So, just. Remember. I don’t need you to castrate yourselves “for our cause,” I just need you to remember that we are human, hurting, and in the forefront of political discourse for the last few years. We are real, and these actions have real consequences. This isn’t some SJW or whatever bullshit.

Play the game, don’t. All I ask is you don’t put money in her pockets, don’t validate her rethoric, and take this as a moment to celebrate and feel for trans people if you can. To learn. Don’t forget us, or to denounce her, if you do play it.

If the idea of playing the game didn’t make me feel sick to the stomach, I’d be tempted to make a let’s play of it, (explicitly pirated ofc), where I’d just drag JKR’s name and her shitty universe through the dirt while I was at it, (feel free to steal if you can). Entice people in and try and come up with the best way to educate them on Trans matters. And tear down their misconceptions they’ve absorbed from the far rights vile and misinformed rhetoric. . .

But, yeah.

This, life, is not a game. And making a stink in either direction just hurts us.

Again: this is not a game for brownie points. There is no winner here. We, trans people, are already loosing so much.

Much love to my fellow trans people. <3 I believe in you.

Thanks.

#hogwarts legacy #rant #delete later?#perhaps.#tired #long post

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creativecuquilu · 2 years

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svnflowervol666 · 4 years

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Ma Petite Chérie: Babymoon (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!

Summary: Harry and Y/N go on their babymoon.

Warnings: pregnancy, smut, fluff

Word Count: 6.4k

Author’s Note: Hello! I wrote this in order to cross off a few requests. I promised Harry and Y/N would have a baby of their own, plus I get asks all of the time to write pregnancy sex - specifically awkward, giggly pregnancy sex. I also got one about Harry getting a love boner, so here is my attempt at shoving all of that down your throat at once. Try not to choke :-) I also just reallllllly love Harry, Y/N, and Tallulah, so I wanted to give them some more love. Also made this one pornstache!Harry, so, there’s that. And one last thing...I know the verb tense is way off in this but I could not be arsed to edit it so plz don’t drag me. I hope everyone enjoys! Take care and TPWK.

“Oh my god,” Y/N huffed as she collapsed on the plush sofa in the living room of the cottage.

“It feels so fucking good out here by the water.”

“Breeze is nice, innit?” Harry replied as he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets to check out how well the place he’d rented for the week was stocked.

“Beats going t’ France at the end of June. Think I’m kinda gettin’ tired of Paris t’ be honest.”

“That is quite possibly the snobbiest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Mr. Styles,” she said with a laugh as she began to flip through the tourist brochures that were left on the coffee table.

Not that they’d be partaking in any of it, no. Their plan was to hole up in the quaint, Scottish cottage that sat right on the coast of the North Sea for the whole week, not even planning on changing out of their pajamas.

It was their babymoon after all - a time of peace and tranquility before the arrival of their first child together.

Harry hummed and he made his way from the kitchen to where Y/N was seated on the couch. He stood behind her, knees knocking against the back of the sofa as he crouched down and wrapped his arms around her very large, very swollen belly.

“If I recall correctly, Mrs. Styles, I sat my injured arse in a stiff train seat to Edinburgh for five hours because someone was too scared to fly even though they were cleared to do so by three separate doctors.”

“’M not Mrs. Styles for another year and a half,” Y/N muttered under her breath, albeit not trying to keep Harry from hearing it in the slightest.

Harry snickered into her neck, then playfully nipped her earlobe with his teeth as he whispered.

“Not my fault yeh got knocked up and we had t’ push the wedding.”

“It is very much your fault, Harry,” Y/N swatted at his face, fingers first brushing his jawline that was covered in a rough stubble and then just barely tracing the full-blown mustache that sat like a caterpillar above his bright pink top lip.

Harry smirked down at her, nostrils flaring wide and lips disappearing inside of his mouth.

“How’s your rib?” Y/N asked suddenly.

“Good. Why?” Harry’s brows quickly furrowed together in confusion as to why she was asking about his injury.

“Might have to ride that later if you’ve got the lungs for it,” she tapped her index and middle fingers along her philtrum, right where Harry’s mustache sat on his own face.

Her blunt lewdness had Harry’s cock immediately growing stiff in his pants. It had been a while. His injury coupled with her being in the last trimester of her pregnancy had left them both feeling unsatisfied for the past several weeks. Maybe this babymoon would prove to be relaxing not only because Harry and Y/N get to spend a week without a rambunctious almost six-year-old screaming at all hours of the day, but for other reasons too.

“Think I’d actually drop dead from happiness if yeh sat on m’ face right now, lovie. But, before yeh get too comfortable with that idea, we need t’ head into town. Kitchen’s only got the necessities, and I doubt yeh want t’ eat homemade bread for a week.”

“I’m sure you’d love to eat homemade bread for a week,” Y/N jested, poking fun at Harry’s latest obsession with the carb-filled food.

“Remind me again why I put up with you?” Harry toyed as he extended his arms out towards Y/N to use as leverage to help her hoist herself up from the couch.

When she regains her balance, she lifts herself up just slightly to press a quick kiss to Harry’s lips that he happily accepts. Y/N hums and jokingly checks the imaginary watch that sits on her wrist.

“How much time do you have? That list is pretty long.”

The trip to one of the only supermarkets in the small part of Edinburgh that they were staying in had proved to be rather tiring, because Harry opted to use store-bought pasta instead of making his own - something he never does. Maybe it was his healing rib causing him to be short-winded, but he simply could not bring himself to hand-make the pasta they chose to have for dinner that night. He bitched about it all night, about how it wasn’t as chewy as it should be and how it would have tasted much better if he would have just made it himself, but it still didn’t deter him from helping himself to a second serving.

He claimed it was because while he did use pre-cooked pasta, he didn’t use sauce from a jar and made his own from fresh tomatoes and that was the appeal. Y/N just thinks Harry likes to complain and listen to himself talk.

After dinner, just as the sun was setting and Harry and Y/N were waiting for their pasta to digest before they dove into the box of fresh pastries from a bakery they found along the way, they decided to take a walk around the property. The renovated, stone cottage that was overgrown with vines and leaves sat along a short cliffside that overlooked the North Sea. It was a short walk down the cliff that brought them to the beach, where mist from the ocean whisped around their legs and ankles like a thin veil of smoke. While it was the middle of summer, Scotland’s persistent rain showers and their proximity to the water never made it too hot to bear.

“Lulah would love it out here. We’ll have to bring her when the baby’s older.”

“She realIy would,” Harry agreed as he wrapped his sweater further around his chest.

“Know yeh didn’t give birth t’ her, but I swear you two are just alike sometimes. Absolutely hates bein’ hot and gettin’ sweaty just like you.”

Y/N smiled softly and knowingly at Harry before reaching into the pocket of the patchwork sweater of Harry’s that she’d stolen for their stroll on the beach for her phone.

“I’m gonna call her.”

She picked up on the third ring, Y/N’s phone screen then illuminated with a live image of a gap-toothed Tallulah. Well, it’s Mitch’s phone, but she’d been waiting for this promised FaceTime call all day so of course she’s quick to answer.

“Mummy!”

Both Y/N’s and Harry’s heart swelled in their chest when they heard Tallulah speak. It had been several months since she’d decided to start referring to Y/N as her mother, but neither of them had grown used to it just yet. Y/N felt a sense of achievement in “earning” the title of being Tallulah’s mum after all of the years she’d spent with her, and Harry felt a sense of resolution. His family was a real family now, and not just a patchwork of awkward relationships and trust issues. Y/N was Tallulah’s mum and she was now seven months pregnant with their own child and they’d be married by the end of next year. He was actually there to see his child grow this time, they weren’t a secret kept from him out of spite. He’d be there for all of it, even the gross and bloody and goopy bits. And he’d never felt more complete.

“Hi, baby,” Y/N beamed from ear to ear.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re walking on the beach,” Y/N answered.

“Want to see it?”

The five-year-old (five and three-quarters if you asked Tallulah herself) nodded quickly, and Y/N then flipped the camera around to show her the view of the water. Y/N pointed out their cottage from where they stood in the sand, turning the camera to Harry briefly as he held up a peace sign so Tallulah could see that her dad was also on the beach with her. She told her all about the train ride there and how Harry almost slipped and broke his face when was carrying his and Y/N’s luggage into the cottage.

Harry listened to his two little loves talk back and forth with the biggest smile on his face as he absent-mindedly scoured the beach for rocks he could skip along the water. He noticed whenever Tallulah said something that Y/N thought was funny, she had to cup her bump with her hand and forearm to keep it from shaking her entire body. She told him she hated laughing now, because it made her look like Santa Claus, but Harry thought she couldn’t look more beautiful.

“That’s so pretty! Can we all go when the baby is here?” Tallulah asked, puckering into a pout as she begged.

“I think that’s a great idea, Lulah. We were just talking about that, weren’t we, Harry?”

Harry perked up from where he had been washing a sandy shell off in the ocean and suddenly appeared in view of the camera and took the phone from Y/N.

“Hmm?” he asked as he studied Tallulah’s appearance.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mitch to watch his baby girl while he went away for a week with his other baby girl, it was that him and Sarah voluntarily asked to babysit Tallulah and that’s what made him so apprehensive to accept their offer. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary about a sleepover at Uncle Mitch and Aunt Sarah’s every now and then, but to want to watch his daughter for an entire week certainly was. Harry felt like Mitch was plotting against him and that he’d come back to Tallulah with bright blue hair and bangs or she’d be sporting the world’s worst potty mouth when she came home, but so far that didn’t seem to be the case.

She was wearing Harry’s “Dream Boat” shirt that she’d claimed as her own a few years back when Y/N had taught her to wear her father’s clothes when she missed him because the smell would remind her of him (he had to steal it back and sleep in it a few times every now and then to keep his scent on it), and her long, brown hair was damp and neatly braided into two plaits and hanging off her shoulders. That had to have been Sarah’s doing, because Harry knew Mitch could barely put his own hair into a ponytail without creating several lumps and redoing it eighteen times before it looked presentable - meaning he certainly wouldn’t have been able to make a five-year-old sit still long enough to braid her hair perfectly.

She looked fine, though. Happy, healthy, certainly didn’t have blue hair or bangs and hadn’t said a single naughty thing since she’d been on the phone with Y/N.

“Lulah wants us to come back here after the baby’s born and take her with us,” Y/N beamed.

“I think we can work that out. Sounds quite lovely, actually,” Harry concurred.

“Yeh bein’ good for Mitch and Sarah?”

“Mhmm,” Tallulah nodded.

“We had pizza for dinner.”

“That sounds yummy,” Harry enthused, trying to let his daughter know he had his full attention.

“It was bery good,” she sighed.

There was a long pause before Tallulah blurted out suddenly in the most serious tone, “When are you gonna shave the rest of your mustache? Mitchy was making fun of you today.”

Harry was caught between a gasp and a laugh, which resulted in him choking on his own spit. Y/N turned on her heels in the sand to look at him with wide eyes.

“You okay?” Y/N mouthed quietly to Harry, completely oblivious to everything that had happened in the last thirty seconds.

Harry nodded, wiping the involuntary tears from his eyes as he coughed himself back to life and regained his composure.

“What exactly did Uncle Mitch say about my mustache?” he prodded.

Tallulah shrugged, subconsciously wiggling her loose bottom tooth with her tongue.

“Don’t ‘member. Just that you look weird with it.”

“Well that’s not a very nice thing t’ say, is it?”

“Mummy said you look weird, too,” Tallulah spouted without hesitation.

Her comment left Y/N’s mouth agape, covering her smile with her palm as Harry’s raised eyebrows feigned offense in her direction.

“She did?” Harry asked sarcastically, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Yeah,” Tallulah sighed as if it was exhausting having to tell your own father that his facial hair looks off-putting.

“I think you should shave it, too. It’s scratchy when you kiss me goodnight.”

All Harry could offer in return was stunned laughter while Y/N hid her face in Harry’s peck. Her bump pressed lightly into his and even though he was pretending to be mad at her, he wouldn’t dare think about pushing her off of him - not while she was this warm and cozy against his chest.

“Well, if mummy really hates it I suppose I’ll get rid of it. But,” Harry pauses and pulls Y/N out from where she had burrowed her face into his sweater.

“I think I might know a trick that’ll convince her t’ let me keep i-”

“Enough!” Y/N exclaimed, clamping both of her hands around Harry’s mouth.

Harry chuckled against her palm and poked his tongue through his lips to lick her fingers, which sent her hands flying back down to her leggings so she could wipe them dry.

“I swear to god, Harry. You’re five years old,” she joked with a disgusted expression on her face, to which Tallulah had something to say to that.

“No, I’m five years old!”

The two adults laughed in unison.

“Alright, Lulah. We’re gonna go inside now. ‘S gettin’ kinda cold out,” Harry said.

“We’ll call you tomorrow before bed. Alright, lovebug?” Y/N added.

“Okay,” Tallulah huffed.

“We love you, Lulah,” Harry spoke softly into the microphone.

“Love you, too...Daddy wait!”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Give the baby kisses for me. And no bikes!”

Harry wanted to laugh, but he also wanted to cry, so he settled on a closed-mouthed smile that was enough to convince Tallulah that he was unbothered by what she said.

“Kisses for the baby and no bikes. Got it,” he nodded.

“Okay, I’m gonna go eat some sweets with Sarah!” the child yelled, suddenly energetic like she had temporarily forgotten that her and Sarah had baked cookies twenty minutes before Y/N called.

“Alright, but it’s almost bed time so not too m-!” was all Harry could answer to before his daughter ended the call and presumably raced to where ever Sarah was in their house.

“‘S like she doesn’t even miss us,” Harry mumbled as he placed Y/N’s phone in his back pocket and began walking back up to the cottage with his arm wrapped around Y/N’s shoulder.

Y/N hummed, basking in the warmth that radiated from Harry’s chest as he held her.

“They’re just buttering her up. She’ll be crying to leave by the time we get back.”

“Just don’t really know why they were so keen on keepin’ her t’ be honest.”

Harry positioned himself one step behind her as they walked up the stone steps together, keeping one hand on the small of her back. Y/N peered over her shoulder at him, her tight lips curling up into a smirk as if to say she knew something he didn’t.

“What?” Harry asked.

Y/N shrugged, “Promised I wouldn’t tell.”

Harry clearly didn’t like that answer, because he moved his hand that was supporting her waist and quickly pinched her bum.

“Tell me,” he demanded, eyebrows scrunched together and lips pursed together in what could be considered a childish pout that mimicked Tallulah’s.

Y/N sucked her lips into her mouth, contemplating whether or not she should spill the beans on the news Sarah had shared with her a few weeks prior.

“They’re gonna start trying for a baby soon,” she whispered as if were a long-kept secret told in a room full of nosey people despite the two of them being alone on the otherwise desolate beach.

Harry’s ears perked up, a wide smile adorning his face from ear to ear.

“No fucking way,” he mumbled, and suddenly all of Mitch’s incessant hammering of baby questions he’d sent Harry’s way in the past few months suddenly making a lot of sense.

Harry thought he was trying to be a good friend and stay engaged in Y/N’s pregnancy, but now he understands the real reason behind his behavior.

Y/N nodded deviously as they make their way into the living room of the cottage.

“They’ve been asking everyone they know with kids to let them come over just to see if they can handle it. I mean, if you ask me, I think they’ll do great. Nothing wrong with trying it before buying it, I guess,” she said with a shrug.

“God, he’s gonna be such a good dad,” Harry was practically beaming for his closest friend.

“I know,” Y/N agreed, walking over to Harry to hold both sides of his head in her hands as if he was a disobedient puppy being disciplined.

Her bump prevented her from getting too close to Harry’s chest, the roundest part of her belly nudging Harry’s tummy.

“They’re both very excited. Which is why, when he finally decides to tell you, you have to act surprised. Act like he told you you just won the lottery or something. Alright?”

Harry sarcastically changed his facial expression to mock bewilderment. His eyebrows rose well off into his forehead and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor as he gasped.

“How’s that? Think he’ll buy it?”

Y/N jokingly jabbed him in the shoulder.

“Smartass. I’m going to take a shower. I’m sticky and I smell like the ocean.”

“Guess I gotta keep workin’ on it, then.”

When he’s done cleaning up what was left of their dinner, he heads to the master bedroom with the intention of washing up in the shower after Y/N. He’s messing around with the A/C unit on the window to make sure it’s not set to a temperature that will smother them in their sleep and unpacking their luggage into the wooden dresser, where an antique turntable rests.

Stacked long the side of the record player, there was a handful of old vinyl, most of which Harry either recognized or new very well. He was actually shocked to find a Shuggie Otis album in the collection, to which he quickly slipped the record out of the worn sleeve and set the needle to the edge and waited for the soft sound to fill the room while he worked.

“That thing works?” Y/N’s voice broke up the old 70s tune as she exited the bathroom with her hair tied up with one of Harry’s scrunchies that she stole out of his toiletry bag, wrapped in only a towel that barely fit around her form.

“I know,” Harry agreed, “Needs a new needle but other than that ‘s in pretty good shape.”

“Leave it to you to find a rental with 70s records in the bedroom,” there was a lighthearted tone in her voice as Y/N poked fun at him.

She padded over to her luggage in the corner of the room for a change of clothes, only to realize Harry had unpacked it all for them. As she’s rummaging through the drawers trying to figure out where Harry had put what, she lets her towel drop to the floor freely.

Harry doesn’t know how must time has passed, but he knows he’s staring. He’s staring at the water droplets that drip from the stray hairs on the nape of her neck and run down her bare back. He’s staring at the swell of her stomach where their baby lies, at the faded, almost-shiny stretch marks on the sides and the newer, darker ones on the underside that had only recently broken through. He’s staring at the bracelet on her wrist, the one that’s braided pink and blue with three beads on it - one ‘H’, one ‘T’ and one heart. Tallulah made it for her at school one day and told her the heart was for the baby and also because she loved her. It was hanging on by its last few threads, threatening to snap as each day passed, but she refused to take it off.

All he does know is that he loves her so much that he thinks none of this is real and that he’ll wake up one day and be in his early twenties again with no direction in life and the insidious feeling that he’ll die alone without ever finding his “person.” It’s when Y/N called out to him and snapped him out of his thoughts that he’s realized his underwear are suddenly feeling incredibly tight.

“Har,” Y/N beckoned him away from whatever had been occupying his brain.

“Hmm?”

He resituated himself on the bed and crossed his legs in an attempt to hide himself from her.

“I said the hot water in there’s kinda shit, so you’ll probably want to wait a little bit before you get in.”

“‘S alright,” Harry dismisses, “Come ‘ere.”

He draws her towards him with an outstretched hand, navigating her around the bedpost and over to the side where he had been sitting. With the gentlest of touches, he runs his fingers over her bare legs. The coolness of his rings don’t make well with her skin that was still extremely warm from her shower, causing hundreds of tiny goosebumps to erupt around her thighs. Harry raises her shirt, one of his that she stole when her own clothes became too uncomfortable, but even now she’s nearly stretching this one to its limit, and rests it on top of her bump.

She doesn’t question him, doesn’t chastise him. She lets him love on her, lets him press kisses to her skin just above her belly button (making sure to give an extra one from Tallulah per her request) and rest his cheek against her stomach while his other hand feels around on the other side in hopes to feel the baby move or kick or do something to let him know that they’re there. Lucky for Harry, baby knows when their dad is around and is quick to make themselves known, so he takes a second to savor these last few moment he’ll have with his newest bub before they’re earth-side in a little less than two months.

Y/N lets him be because she knows how important this is to Harry. She knows that he never got these moments with Tallulah and that it’s one of the things that plagued him during those nights where he feels lonely despite her being asleep right next to him. He never got to feel her kick in her mum’s tummy and he didn’t get to see her grow from the size of a pea to the size of a melon before she was welcomed by her parents and the rest of her family that had been waiting anxiously for her arrival.

No, Tallulah was dropped on his doorstep like a wet kitten in the middle of the night. Shivering and crying and just needing someone to hold her and tell her that it was going to be alright because her mother had decided she’d be better off elsewhere. Of course, she was too small to remember, but Harry could never forget it.

So, it’s the least she can do. To let Harry love on her. Love on them.

Her eyes catch his once or twice and she can see the gears in his head turning. There’s something on his mind and he’s hesitant to tell her what it is. Y/N lifts his head by tilting his chin up, her index finger brushing over the healed scar on the underside of his jaw from a few months prior.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” she whispered.

Harry shakes his head, a grin on his lips.

“‘M just really, really happy right now. Happy tha’ I’m here w’ you.”

Y/N smiles back at him genuinely before pulling away from his grasp and gesturing to his lap.

“And I’m happy that I’m here with you. Seems like your little friend is really happy, too.”

A soft groan emits from Harry chest, having realized he’d uncrossed his legs at some point and his very prominent bulge had come into Y/N’s view.

“Sorry, lovie. Didn’t mean t’ make it like tha-”

“I’m just messing with you. You know,” she ponders, “I was half-way kidding when I asked about your lungs earlier. But... This will be the last time we’re kid-free for a while,” she taunted.

“Are yeh asking?” Harry jests and points his thumb towards the bathroom door, “‘Cos I was actually plannin’ on just having a wank in the shower.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N shrugs and moves his hands off of her waist as she pretends to walk towards the living room.

Before she can take two steps, Harry’s standing up and pulling her back into him for a kiss. It’s full of heat and passion and almost knocks Y/N off of her feet. He cradles her head in his large hands and moves to whisper in her ear.

“Really gonna let me fuck yeh?”

A quiet chuckle escapes her lips, to which she replies, “What else did you think we were gonna do all week?”

He’s unable to bite back his own laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound to ever grace Y/N’s ears.

“Then get on the bed and take yeh clothes off.”

They work quickly, as they’ve conditioned themselves to do over the years of squeezing in any time they can together before they’re interrupted. Y/N lies back on her elbows as she waits for Harry to undo his pants and her breath catches in her throat when his boxers hit the floor.

His cock is hard, not fully, but the sight of the first few beads of glistening precum causes a shiver to run down her spine. She’s blown him a handful of times since he’s been in recovery, but she’s been far too pregnant and he’s been far too injured lately to engage in any kind of actual fun. It’s safe to say that they’re both more than ready.

Harry scratches at his scalp, unsure of how to word his questions as he looks her body up and down.

“How do you...erm...how do you wanna-?”

“My stomach, please,” Y/N says with a laugh.

She quickly reaches for one of the pillows behind her and gets on all fours, wedging the object underneath her bump to keep some of the weight off of her back. Slowly, she arches her spine down towards the mattress, and the glimpse Harry catches of her pussy through the light of the setting sun is enough to send another jolt straight to his cock.

Harry wastes no time joining her on the bed, caressing her hips and moving back to massage the plump skin of her ass. He leans down on top of her, flips her hair over to one side, and begins sucking on the sensitive skin between her neck and jaw.

“Gonna let me taste yeh first, right?” he mumbles into her skin.

Y/N hums in response, attempting to rock backwards in order to feel Harry’s cock rub against her backside. She hears Harry laugh, presumably because he’s caught on to her neediness, so it only pushes him further to be the tease he’s notorious for being.

He sponges wet kisses down her back, getting a rise out of every audible breath that leaves Y/N’s throat.

“Relax, baby,” Harry says when he feels her growing tenser as his kisses travel closer to where she needs him the most.

“Gonna get yeh there. Just gotta be patient.”

Harry presses one last kiss on the final notch of her spine before using one of his hands to spread her legs open just a little bit further. When he parts the globes of her ass, his mouth waters. Her pussy is shimmering with her arousal, perfect and on display just for him.

He tests the waters by running the tip of his tongue from her clit up to her center and he hears a sigh of relief leave Y/N’s lungs at the contact. Next, he’s massaging her folds, exploring her and refamiliarizing himself with the way she tasted. Harry feels her relax into the mattress with each lap of his tongue against her, silently begging him for more. His tentativeness allows him to read her body language and he draws back momentarily to spread her lips apart with his middle and index finger.

The cool air against her core stuns Y/N, but is quickly drowned out with a moan when she feels Harry’s warm saliva drip from her ass down to her clit. His mouth is back on her before she can recover from the sensation, lapping her up and flicking at her clit with his tongue and driving her mad. He’s got his nose buried inside of her as he devours her in the way that he’s really been yearning to for months (he doesn’t count the late night or early morning quickies because he claims he never gets to spend as much time taking care of her as he really wants to). The scruff from his mustache is staunch against her soft folds, but Harry’s tongue is quick to soothe the burn and she loves it.

He smirks against her as she lets out a particularly loud moan when his facial hair brushes against her clit. What was that about shaving my mustache? he thinks to himself but does not dare say aloud.

When he senses that she needs even more, his fingers move from spreading her apart to pressing against her opening. Gathering her wetness on his digits, he slowly pumps them in and out of her. Y/N’s mewls and whimpers are like music to his ears and only spurs him on further. He ruts his hips against the comforter, anything to relieve the throbbing between his legs that is a result of how pliable she’s become for him. She’s soaking the rings on his fingers in the most picture-perfect way and Harry truly genuinely can’t get enough of it; and neither can she. Which is why he’s confused when one of her hands swings around her backside to stop Harry from working her open.

“Har-” she pants.

He withdrawals all contact immediately and peaks his head around to look at her face.

“Yeh good?” he asks as she’s stands up on her knees and turns around to face him.

“‘M great. Wanna be on top now,” she says, her lips plump and swollen from biting down on them so harshly that she nearly drew blood.

“You sure? Yeh don’t want me t’ finish yeh first?”

His eyes dart from her lust-blown eyes to her round belly.

“Mhm. Now lay your pretty ass down before I change my mind.”

She doesn’t have to tell him twice and he’s rolling over on his back, working his way to prop himself up against the headboard. His cock is red and leaking against his stomach, excruciatingly waiting to be buried inside of his girl. He wonders why she’s staring at him with an annoyed expression on her face, but then she speaks up.

“Do you see how pregnant I am? Gonna have to lay all the way down, shit head.”

He does as he’s told and he’s honestly scared that he’ll cum in five seconds if she doesn’t get on with it.

“I swear to god, if you laugh at me,” she grunts as she straddles his waist, “I’ll cut it off.”

“‘M not gonna lau-”

It’s his turn to moan aloud when she grips onto his cock, running it across her folds to collect as much wetness as she can before she allows him to stretch her out. He’s focusing so much on not losing it right then and there that he doesn’t realize she’s stopped and is waiting for the go-ahead. Through his dark, thick lashes, he nods; as if she would have to ask.

Harry reaches for her hands as she lowers herself onto him, the two of them squeezing a bit too harshly when she reaches the last few inches. The burn consumes Y/N from the inside and out, but it’s never felt so right to either of them.

She’s not moving just yet, but her cunt is pulsing around him and it feels almost as good as the real thing. They’re staring at each other, both with looks that relay more than words.

“Love you,” Harry’s face softens as he looks up at her.

“Love you, too,” Y/N smiles as she leans down as far as she can in search of a kiss.

He meets her in the middle and their lips find one another and mash together in harmony. The rocking of their hips reminds both of them what they’re actually doing, and causes both of them to gasp at the way Y/N pumped Harry half-way in and out of her.

When she’s settled back down on the base of his cock, she begins slowly rutting herself back and forth. It takes her just a little bit longer than usual to work up a steady rhythm, but when she’s got it, boy does she got it and it feels so fucking good. The tip of Harry’s cock is pressing against the deepest parts of her and before she knows it, there’s a warm coil winding up in her tummy that bounds itself tighter and tighter inside of her.

She needs to go faster and she needs to go faster now, so she braces her hands on Harry’s chest as she continues to fuck herself on Harry’s cock. Harry lets out a sound that she can’t tell apart between a groan of pleasure and one of pain. His hands dart quickly from where they’d been gripping at her thighs to grip at her wrists.

“Can’t do tha’, lovie. Not the ribs.”

“Shit,” she laughs, subconsciously clenching down on his shaft in the process.

“Sorry.”

“‘S okay,” Harry reassures her as he repositions her hands on his shoulders so she can still have something to grab on to.

“Keep going.”

Her bump is now cradled against Harry’s stomach and it allows her to find relief in the way that her clit is brushing against the trimmed nest of hair that lies around the base of his thick, throbbing cock. He’s twitching inside of her so much that she can feel it alongside her thrusts as they continue. They both won’t last much longer and they know it.

“‘M getting close.”

“I know,” Harry pants beneath her.

She switches positions, now with her fingers digging so hard into the meat of Harry’s thighs that her knuckles are changing color. She’s able to lift her hips up and down a bit more from this angle, and it allows Harry’s cock to nudge against her sweet spot.

“Feels so good, H,” she whimpers so quietly that almost Harry couldn’t even hear it.

“‘S that it? Right there?” he mocks as he works at meeting her thrusts with his own.

The best he gets from Y/N is a nod as she focuses the best she can on getting herself there. She’s coating him with her juices with each pump and with one glance down at where they’re joined together nearly shoots Harry over the edge.

“Yeh gonna cum f’ me?” Harry asks as his thumb reaches under her to begin rubbing circles on her clit.

“Gonna give me a good one?”

His movements coupled with his words catalyze the tightness within her, threatening to snap at any moment. She’s definitely sweaty and tired of being on top, but she’s so close now that she wills away the pain in her lower back and thighs.

“Come on, bunny. Give it to me.”

He works with that he can and makes sure he’s slamming into her as deep as he can, speeding up the pace he’s making with her clit in the process.

She cums with a strangled, “Fuck,” and a shrill cry of his name, and that’s all he needs to meet his end as well. The world is black and quiet for the two of them for just a brief moment, and then they’re both seeing all of the stars in the galaxy.

Her walls are coated with the warm ropes of his seed and spills out of her as she milks him, coaxing all she can out of both hers and Harry’s orgasms. Y/N can feel the last few twitches of Harry’s cock inside of her and her movements slow to a stop.

His cum is splashed along her inner thighs and around Harry’s shaft, and they’re both struggling to catch their breath. Y/N feels sorry for him for a brief second when she sees him clutching onto the left side of his ribs, but then she remembers the situation that put him there in the first place and great incredible fuck she just gave him and so she decides not to dwell on it too much.

Serves him right.

She collapses on the bed beside him, the two of them staring idly at the ceiling. It’s nearly dark now, the sun having set long ago and only their silhouettes are visible in the moonlight. Harry reaches over to pet her cheek and press a kiss into her hair as their breathing slowly but surely evens out and they come to.

They’re both too tired and fucked out to have a lucid conversation, so they’ll save that for tomorrow. No. Right now was for cuddles and falling asleep to the sounds of each other’s soft breaths and the peace of mind knowing that they can do this every single night for the rest of their lives if they wanted to because they’re getting married and they have a family together and they’re so in love with each other that nothing else matters.

When Y/N finally manages to muster up the energy to lift herself from the mattress and waddle to the bathroom, Harry breaks the silence.

“Hey,” his voice is calm and collected and there’s a smirk on his face.

“Hmm?” she answers as she cranes her neck and braces herself on the door frame of the master bathroom.

Her other hand is caressing her bump, a tick that she’d picked up over the months whenever she wasn’t doing anything important.

“Sit on m’ face in the morning?”

There’s that laugh again. The one that Harry loves and swears came straight from the angels above.

“With pleasure,” she winks as the door closes behind her.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #dad!harry x reader #dad!harry styles #dad!harry #dad!harry styles x reader #dad!harry x pregnant!reader #harry styles x pregnant!reader

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floatyteabag · 3 years

Note

HEY HANNAH

SPILL ABT THE AIDES >:)

HEY LISA

O K A Y

ARE YOU READY

(I’m not sure if you meant Meade and Tilghman or all of the aides but guess what- i love them all (even Reed the tiniest bit) SO i’ll offer a shitpost on A L L of them (i'm not doing Hamilton or Laurens though because everyone knows them and idk a lot about Reed so sadly he won't feature either))

Robert Hanson Harrison-

- He was born in 1745, but nobody knows when because nobody was smart enough to ever write it down

- In 1765, he was admitted to the bar and became a lawyer. He then became Washington's lawyer, which is how they knew each other.

- He supported the Patriot cause in Virginia pretty early on, and was made an officer in the 1774 militia, and later officially commissioned as a major in the Fairfax County militia in 1775

- Roll around November 1775, he is appointed as Washington's aide-de-camp

- Then, in May 1776 he was given the role of military secretary (it was going to be Reed but Harrison swept in like 'lol nope')

- Over the course of the war, Harrison continued serving under Washington. He did the letter-writing business like everyone else, and he and Hamilton negotiated prisoner exchanges, because they were the two who were best with words

- He also earned the fond name (the fandom know this well) of 'Old Secretary' (he wasn't even the oldest in office but he just acted old)

- In 1780, he left military service (his father died so it was partly due to that) and he briefly returned to Virginia and visited Laurens while he was a P.O.W.

-In 1781, he was made a judge, and they continued to offer him other jobs, including being the Chancellor of Maryland, but because he was always ill he declined the offers

- Washington offered him a job and he declined for the same reason, as well as family responsibilities. Then, Washington sent Harrison a personal appeal trying to persuade him to accept. Somehow, this worked, and Harrison began travelling to New York, but then he fell ill (again) and had to cancel and then declined the offer again

- He was somehow a Federalist

- He had a wife named Sarah Johnston, and then she sadly died, so he re-married a woman named Grace Dent

- I also recall reading somewhere that he had 2 daughters, but don't quote me on that because I may have made that up

- He died in April, 1790 (nobody knows where he was buried so it's a complete mystery)

John Fitzgerald-

I could tell you all about Fitzgerald, but thankfully @chaotic-randomzooli already did it for me!! I'll link it here and on that note I'll finish with #justiceforjohnfitzgerald because everyone always forgets about him

James McHenry-

- He was born 16th November 1753 (that makes him a Scorpio!!)

- He was of Scottish-Irish descent, being born in Ireland too

- He was educated at Dublin and then emigrated to Philadelphia in 1771

- He was initially a doctor/surgeon, and was trained under Benjamin Rush (I think anyway...?)

- He was appointed at some fortress (I can't remember the name for the life of me-) and it was captured by Howe, and thus McHenry was made a P.O.W. in 1776

- He was paroled in in early 1777, released in March 1778 and was present at the Battle of Monmouth in 1778 to do doctor-stuff

- He actually worked for the Continental Army as a physician before his appointment as Washington's aide-de-camp in May 1779

- During his time on Washington's staff, he and Hamilton built up a pretty good friendship

- In 1780, he transferred to Lafayette's staff, and he remained there until his retirement in 1781 (McHenry, not Lafayette)

- He married Margaret (Peggy) Caldwell in 1784 and they had 3 children together. Sadly, one of them passed away when he was still alive

- He was Secretary of War 1796-1800 and he represented Maryland in congress

- He was also a Federalist

- He also dappled in the mercantile business (idk if he was any good at it but I'm gonna say yes)

- In 1792, he purchased a large amount of land and named it 'Fayetteville' to honour Lafayette (so cute)

- He kept up frequent correspondence with his friends, including Benjamin Tallmadge

- In 1814, he had an attack of paralysis, and he lost the function of his legs

- He passed away 2 years later in 1816

Tench Tilghman-

- Born December 25th 1744 in Maryland (Making him a Capricorn!!)

- He led a pretty privileged life, as his father owned a plantation in Maryland

- He was the oldest of 12 children

- His family were also loyalists, but Tench later changed his view along with contemporary society

- He graduated from the College of Philadelphia in 1761 with a degree (in something...)

- One of his first jobs in the big, big world was to negotiate with the Six Nations on behalf of the British and the American colonists

- He ran a saddle-making business but then he kinda got screwed over when British goods stopped being imported. Tories then found out he supported the revolution, so they burned down his shop

- A lot of his family served the British crown, and a couple of his brothers served in the British army

- In 1776, he received a commission to be Washington's aide-de-camp, however he was a volunteer aide

- He spoke French, often assisting in translations between the French, Lafayette and Baron Von Steuben

- He was Washington's longest serving aide, and his best- he was extremely hard-working and dedicated to the cause

- After Hamilton left service in 1781 (?) Tilghman was the only aide left in office. He worked so hard that he often fell ill (god bless)

- In 1783, he left military service due to ill health, as he kept falling ill with fever, yet he took up business in trade

- He married his FIRST cousin Anna in 1783 (desperate times call for desperate measures-) and they had 2 children together, named Anna and Elizabeth

- Tilghman died in April 1786 (his second daughter hadn't been born yet!!)

Richard Kidder Meade-

BEST TILL LAST OKAY HE'S MY FAVOURITE (in case you couldn't tell)

- He was born July 11th (though some sources say the 14th) 1746 (Making him a Cancer!!)

- He was one of 8 children, being the 5th eldest

- He received an education with two of his brothers in England

- He was never really an academic, he preferred doing sporty and athletic stuff, but he was still pretty smart

- He married his first wife, Elizabeth Randolph, in 1765 (he was 19 and she was 26!)

- They had 3 children together, but sadly all of them died in infancy

- Elizabeth died in 1774

- In 1775, Meade was made Captain of the 2nd Virginia regiment and he led them in battle

- In 1777, he was appointed as Washington's aide-de-camp, where he was frequently used to deliver correspondence etc. due to his excellent horseman abilities (and when I say excellent, I mean excellent-)

- He had a very amiable personality

- Meade frequently interacted with common soldiers, which was uncommon for any officer, let alone an aide-de-camp of the commander in-chief

- Meade oversaw the construction of the cabins built at Valley Forge, and gave the soldiers a tutorial on how to build one

- Soldiers had to report any issues or problems to Meade, and he personally saw to it that these issues were rectified

- At Valley Forge, before the arrival of Steuben, Meade often led soldiers in their drills

- At the Battle of Monmouth, in 1778, Meade was trying to hunt down General Lee and ask what on earth was going on. While he was out, so was Henry Clinton and his aides. They saw Meade and opened fire on him, but he managed to get away safely on his horse. A few years later, Meade and 2 other aides (one was Laurens, and I can't remember who the other was) were talking about Monmouth with some captured British men, and one of them mentioned the whole Clinton v.s. Meade incident but nobody on the British side knew it was Meade and vice versa for the Americans with Clinton. Anyways, so the British guy said "Wait, do you have a black horse?" and Meade was like "... yeah" and then they all had a lightbulb moment and realised Meade had been shot at by Clinton. Meade then said (this isn't actually it but I'm paraphrasing in modern terms) "Well, if I'd have KNOWN it were Clinton, I would have done something about it or died trying"

- His horse. He cherished that horse, and would brag about her to anyone who would listen. I'm sure he actually kept her throughout and after the war, as he didn't want to give her up

- The chimney moment. Not once but twice he scaled a chimney to read letters from Hamilton. That is dedication-

- He left military service in 1780 to re-marry a woman named Mary Grymes and they had 8 children together- 4 daughters and 4 sons (I love that even split)

- He pursued his pre-war career in farming and was very successful

- He bought some land (under Washington's expert recommendation) in Virginia and expanded a log cabin, which he named 'Meadea' (unlike McHenry, he didn't name it after a friend, he named it after himself like a legend-)

- He expanded this land and built a brick house which he named 'Lucky Hit' due to his belief that the land he bought was... lucky

- In 1799, he was in some random part of Virginia and heard Washington was riding in the area, and Meade spoke to George Washington Custis who basically was like 'yeah he's here' and Meade found Washington and the two rode around together. They approached a locked gate and Meade hopped off his horse and insisted on opening it for Washington as he was still his aide-de-camp

- Meade sadly passed in 1805 due to gout and the effects of military life. Essentially, his legs gave out, stopped working, and then he died.

TA-DA!! Wow that took me waaaaaay longer than necessary, I'm so sorry lmao-

All of my info is from either personal research or can be found in Washington's Indispensable Men (read it it's fascinating!!)

I do not class myself as an official historian, I just love the aides <3

#amrev #washington's aides #robert hanson harrison #john fitzgerald #james mchenry #tench tilghman #richard kidder meade

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scotianostra · 3 years

Photo

On September 5th 1750, the poet Robert Fergusson was born in the Canongate in Edinburgh.

He may have only lived for 24 years, the last of which was traumatic, but those short years not only inspired Scotland’s best-known bard Robert Burns and the writer Robert Louis Stevenson, it also paved the way for better treatment of people with mental health conditions thanks to the work of Doctor Andrew Duncan, a name many in Edinburgh will associate with the The Royal Edinburgh Hospital. The famous English writer Charles Dickens also visited Fergusson’s grave, mote on that later.

Although still relatively unknown, Fergusson was one of the most influential writers of his time despite dying at the tender age of 24, I wonder how many of you have maybe posed at his statue outside Canongate Kirkyard, but paid little attention to who he was?

Fergusson was brought up initially in Edinburgh but then moved to Dundee where he attended high school before being matriculated to the St Andrews University in 1765.

After the death of his father and completing his studies, the responsibility for supporting his mother fell upon Fergusson and he moved back to Edinburgh, taking up a post as a copyist. This caused some friction with his uncle as Fergusson had essentially rejected the excepted professions of the time such as lawyer or going into the church as a priest.

There is plenty of reason to believe that the young Fergusson had started developing his poetic sensibilities whilst at St Andrews, including beginning work on a play about Scottish brave-heart William Wallace. Moving to Edinburgh allowed Fergusson to get to known the writers and other artistic talent in the city, and he mixed largely in bohemian circles, befriending William Woods who managed some of the theatres there.

At the time, he also became friends with opera singer Tenducci who was touring the country with his company. This was when Fergusson was asked to produce Scottish songs for the Edinburgh section of the tour and marked his first published work. Buoyed by his success he began to produce satirical and pastoral poems for the Weekly Review that was run by Walter Ruddiman.

His initial offerings were traditional poems but it wasn’t long before Fergusson began writing verses that were considered more ‘Scots’. In 1772 he published The Daft Days which drew a good deal of attention and from then on he would submit poems in both English and the Scots dialect. His popularity also grew and in 1773 a collection of his work was published by Ruddiman which sold well enough for Fergusson to earn some money from his artistic endeavours.

Fergusson wrote his most well-known work, Auld Reekie, about this time and was confident enough of success to arrange to publish it himself. It was intended to be part of a much longer poem and provides an engaging and masterful portrait of Edinburgh at the time.

Unfortunately, Fergusson also suffered from bouts of depression and, if any further work was done on the poem it was probably destroyed by him in one of his darker moments.

Fergusson became a member of the famous Cape Club that would regularly meet in a local hostelry in the city. Each member of the club had a name and characteristic attached to them and drawings from the time show Fergusson as ‘Mr Precentor’.

Towards the middle of 1773, despite his growing success and popularity, Fergusson’s work grew a little darker and included Poem to the Memory of John Cunningham where he wrote about his fears of suffering a similar fate and ending up in a mental institution or asylum.

At the end of 1774, Fergusson suffered from an injury to his head and, though details are sketchy, did indeed end up in the Edinburgh equivalent of Bedlam. Two weeks later he was dead, at the tender age of 24, and had been buried in an unmarked plot in the city cemetery.

Now that may have been the end to the story and our fine Edinburgh poet may well have disappeared into obscurity if it weren’t for Robert Burns arrived in Edinburgh in 1786, he made a pilgrimage to the Canongate kirkyard to pay his respects to the young man who had inspired his poetry and whose grave lay unmarked for 12 years since his death at the age of 24 in October 1774.

Had Robert Fergusson lived and written more than one slim volume of poems, Scotland might now have two national bards and celebrate Fergusson Night with a feast of his favourite seafood on September 5th, the date of the neglected poet’s birth in 1750.

Burns himself acknowledged it long ago, when he paid for the headstone that now marks Fergusson’s grave and composed a heartfelt inscription:

No sculptur’d marble here, nor pompus lay,

No story’d urn nor animated bust;

This simple stone directs pale Scotia’s way

To pour her sorrows o'er her poet’s dust.

When Charles Dickens went to see Robert Ferguson’s grave It was dusk, he saw another grave stone and Ebenezer Scrogge Because it was dark, he thought his grave stone had mean man written on it But it read Meal man, meaning grain merchant, , , he thought how could a man be so mean, that they’d write it on his grave, the rest is history.

I touched upon Dr Andrew Duncan earlier he was Fergusson's doctor, and was moved by the poet's death, and he resolved to set up a hospital in the city which would look after the mentally ill with greater dignity and respect. Duncan launched a fundraising appeal in 1792, and eventually, in 1806, Parliament granted £2000 from estates forfeited during the Jacobite rebellion in 1745.

The money was used to buy a large house in Morningside with four acres of land, and the architect Robert Reid was commissioned to design a new building, which came to be called the East House.

Originally called the Edinburgh Lunatic Asylum, the hospital opened in 1813, initially for patients whose families could afford to pay. The West House, designed by William Burn, opened in 1842, for poor patients, and taking over the care of the city's Bedlam inmates in 1844. The West House was demolished in 1896, but the Royal Edinburgh Hospital remains. It includes the Andrew Duncan Clinic, opened in 1965.

I posted a bit of his epic poem Auld Reikie last year so this year here is another of his famous works, The Daft-days, in which Auld Reikie takes a central role, it is the old nickname for Scotland's capital city. The Daft-Days is the old name given to the period from Christmas to Handsel Monday because it is given over to celebration, merriment and excess, with many people having licence to act in frivolous or daft (mad) ways. It is still the primary period of national celebration in Scotland

The Daft-Days.

Now mirk December’s dowie face Glowrs owr the rigs wi sour grimace, While, thro’ his minimum of space, The bleer-ey’d sun, Wi blinkin light and stealing pace, His race doth run.

From naked groves nae birdie sings, To shepherd’s pipe nae hillock rings, The breeze nae od’rous flavour brings From Borean cave, And dwyning nature droops her wings, Wi visage grave.

Mankind but scanty pleasure glean Frae snawy hill or barren plain, Whan winter, ‘midst his nipping train, Wi frozen spear, Sends drift owr a’ his bleak domain, And guides the weir.

Auld Reikie! thou’rt the canty hole, A bield for many caldrife soul, Wha snugly at thine ingle loll, Baith warm and couth, While round they gar the bicker roll To weet their mouth.

When merry Yule-day comes, I trou, You’ll scantlins find a hungry mou; Sma are our cares, our stamacks fou O’ gusty gear, And kickshaws, strangers to our view, Sin fairn-year.

Ye browster wives, now busk ye braw, And fling your sorrows far awa; Then come and gie’s the tither blaw Of reaming ale, Mair precious than the well of Spa, Our hearts to heal.

Then, tho’ at odds wi a’ the warl’, Amang oursels we’ll never quarrel; Tho’ Discord gie a canker’d snarl To spoil our glee, As lang’s there’s pith into the barrel We’ll drink and ‘gree.

Fidlers, your pins in temper fix, And roset weel your fiddle-sticks; But banish vile Italian tricks Frae out your quorum, Not fortes wi pianos mix – Gie’s Tulloch Gorum.

For nought can cheer the heart sae weel As can a canty Highland reel; It even vivifies the heel To skip and dance: Lifeless is he wha canna feel Its influence.

Let mirth abound, let social cheer Invest the dawning of the year; Let blithesome innocence appear To crown our joy; Nor envy wi sarcastic sneer Our bliss destroy.

And thou, great god of Aqua Vitae! Wha sways the empire of this city, When fou we’re sometimes capernoity, Be thou prepar’d To hedge us frae that black banditti, The City Guard.

More on Fergusson and some of his poetry here https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poet/robert-fergusson/

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heycaricari · 3 years

Text

Well here we go. My first ask. Tagged by the inimitable @mortifyingideal Behold, Tumblr, the inner workings of my soul...

------

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

27 under this name 😬

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

476,208

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Ho boy... Ok. I am probably forgetting a few but the big ones were LOTR, Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Star Trek TOS & VOY, Spooks, Silence of the Lambs, and of course Good Omens!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Top, Anthony, Silk, Saltwater, and Any Other Way.

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I really truly try to. When I'm in a place where I'm actively creating content and happy with what I'm putting out, responding is easy. There's nothing I want to talk about more. When I'm in one of the troughs, not so much.

The appreciation is always there though. ❤️ I love that people care about what happens to my characters. The idea of my thoughts coming alive in someone else's imagination makes me feel like an ALL POWERFUL WIZARD.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

It will surprise no one to hear that I'm not a big angst writer. Ive tried but apparently I'm not a pessimist but a depressed optimist in disguise. Who knew.

Ive got a few dark chapters - especially in PL - but I think the endings make up for them.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

No. I barely manage continuity in one fandom.

8. have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes.

9. do you write smut? if so what kind?

Yes. The wholesome kind.

10. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes. Not in this fandom but in one of my previous incarnations. I always used to wonder how well the Scottish idioms came across...

11. Have you ever co-written a fic?

No, but I would love to give it a go someday. Preferably with someone who has a loose grasp of deadlines. And endless stores of patience.

13. What's your all time favourite ship?

It's hard to choose. All the pairings I wrote about had a very different dynamic.

I guess, as I got older, characters like Aziraphale and Crowley became more appealing to me. (It was probably that realisation that it's easy to fall instantly and dramatically in love, but finding someone who can also be your friend, who you can trust... well, that's a whole thing).

14. What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

A Cold War human spy AU. It's research heavy and pretty dark.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Output. I have periods of time (usually days but occasionally weeks) when I can churn out copy like a room full of monkeys on typewriters. I have days where everything clicks. Sentences flow. Dialogue writes itself. Dangling plot threads find one another.

My good days are really good days - so I can double down and get a lot done.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I also have really bad days. They come from nowhere and, when they do, I avoid writing out of some weird fear that I've "lost" my flow and I'll never get it back. I put off working on things for weeks and, when I finally manage to sit down, I end up picking over what I've already got rather than working on something new. I overwork and lose confidence and end up screaming into the void. It's a whole cycle.

I am also not concise. I ramble and then resist cutting on edit.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I hadn't thought about it until this moment in time.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Lord of the Rings. Me and my sister used to write glorious (😂) epic romances which I would then type up and print off in the dead of night.

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Fave multichap - "Cold". Not my most popular or polished (it's from before I met my wonderful beta) but I wrote as I posted - over the 12 days of Christmas - so I feel it's less filtered than my other work. I am really proud of some of the imagery I managed to get across. And I'd like to go back and spell-check it one day.

Fave one shot - probably New Life. It felt more real than the others. Maybe because it was from an outside POV. (Adam's).

----

This was fun - thanks mort !!

#good omens #ask memes #tldr

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galacticlamps · 3 years

Text

Tagged by @the--highlanders ! Thanks!

How many works do you have on AO3?

What’s your total AO3 word count?

76,200

(oh what a nice even number - I should try to mess that up as soon as possible, shouldn’t I?)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Aw man is this intentionally worded to be really hard to answer? I get that it says ‘written’ and not ‘posted’ but then what constitutes a ‘fandom?’ I definitely wrote fics for stuff I was interested in long before I even knew the word ‘fic’ - I did it throughout my childhood, and then in high school, and while I didn’t do it as much in college, it still happened from time to time. So a lot of the books/movies/tv shows/plays/musicals I wrote things for aren’t really fandoms, and frankly, I had to check my old folder just now to even remember some of them existed. I’ll just list the ones that I know for sure had fandoms, since that’s more fun (and embarrassing), right?

Obviously Doctor Who, classic and modern, Torchwood, Sherlock Holmes (ironically more of these seem to be about the books, but yes, I will admit, some for that tv show too), Les Mis, a couple different Marvel comics & movies, Good Omens, hell, I even found a Night Vale fic in there just now.

And I know there are other older things not even in that folder, some of which never made it to a computer at all, so if I had to ballpark a number I’d probably say around 25ish but really, who knows?

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Across the Gap

On the Spot

Expectations

Shards of Memories & Fragments of Glass

Itemized

(this was fun, I’d never noticed Ao3 even had a stats page until now lol)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to! Sometimes I take a long time to do so but for the most part, I usually get around to it. The rare exception would be if I first saw the comment when I was super busy/distracted and then felt like way too much time passed before I noticed it again, that it might be awkward if I said something at that point.

I do genuinely enjoy hearing what people think, but I’m also weirdly terrified of making anyone feel like they have to reply to my comments. I know that’s probably a little strange, but it’s actually a large part of why I made this Ao3 account in the first place - my original one, from high school, is followed by some long-time friends of mine who aren’t interested in this fandom, some of whom are involved in art & writing professionally. The thought of anyone like that reading something I wrote out of friendliness or even just curiosity and potentially having to pretend they liked it for the same reasons stressed me tf out, so I like having this virtually anonymous one because I can relax knowing that anyone who reads or interacts with something I wrote has probably done so only because they wanted to, rather than feeling obligated, and there’s no pressure on them to be nice to me about it if anything I write or post annoys them - so I really hope nobody who does just know me as an anonymous blog has ever worried about offending me by not replying to something, trust me, I’m perfectly happy with it!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t think I’ve really written any angsty endings? I guess the answer would have to be Reckless just because it involves the characters arguing about sad/weighty things and there isn’t really any solution to those issues - but even then I think I ended it with a kind of acceptance that stops it from really qualifying as angst? I also set it in the the same universe as other fics, so maybe that doesn’t even count as an ending? Am I that bad at ending things on angst? Lol

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Obviously none of the fics I’ve posted are crossovers but I’m trying to think now if any of my WIP’s are - I’ve definitely poached setting/premise ideas from other media, but in terms of actual crossovers . . . I’ve got a few cross-era or cross-Doctor, a few involving Torchwood, but that’s already the same universe, so the only thing that’d qualify as a true crossover would be some vague pieces of a fic where Jamie, Zoe, and Two end up on the Enterprise, since I think the 60s series of Star Trek and Dr Who feel kind of compatible, don’t they? In fact, aren’t there like officially licensed crossover comics or something? Or did I make that up? Idk, and the ideas are very loose, so it’s not much of a WIP either

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope, never

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I’ve never written smut, but I’m wondering if it’s possible that could change soon. There’s a longish multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on for a frankly embarrassing amount of time, and the plot does call for a sex scene at one point towards the end, but I can’t seem to make up my mind on how - uh, I guess the word is explicit? - it should get. I know I could easily do a fade to black/implication thing, but it’s kind of a source of contention and anxiety for the characters, so to skip over writing the actual scene and just revisit them afterwards rings of “and they slept together and now everything’s fine!” which feels kinda cheap to me - in this context, anyway - and not the right payoff for a long fic that’s otherwise more of an interpersonal drama/slightly a period piece, if I had to place it in a genre. I feel like my aversion to actually writing the scene might just be prudishness I should get over, or maybe just self-doubt, because I know I’d rather have a well-written, funny, character-development-supporting sex scene than nothing at all, but since I’ve never had any interest in writing a scene like that before, I don’t know if I can do it well, and I also don’t want to ruin a fic I’m otherwise proud of by doing it badly... ugh I have to figure this out

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I seriously doubt it

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

What’s your all time favorite ship?

I mean, it’s gotta be Two & Jamie. I’ve shipped things before with varying levels of investment, but I’ve never been able to use the term ‘otp’ in a literal sense until I came across them, and now it’s already basically gone out of fashion, go figure!

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I’m not sure if I have one? My WIP doc is huge, but I don’t actually intend to get around to finishing everything in it, so I’d like to think that anything I’ve currently singled out to complete can actually get done.

That said, I do have a few AU’s that I don’t really plan to finish, but it might be cool if I could. Two of them are for all the main + some supporting characters of the Second Doctor’s era - one’s a modern day school teachers AU, and the other is a typical fantasy/fairy tale AU. Another is just Two/Jamie, based on Doctor Faustus (specifically the Marlowe play version) but right now there are two different versions of the ending coexisting in my head. I’ve written parts of scenes & some gen. backstory for all of those ideas, but I don’t know if I’ll ever try to finish them, or what form a finished product would even take - a series of one-shots set in the same universe? one long multi-chapter fic with some kind of overarching plot? And the amount of context/worldbuilding a big AU like these would require might not make them very appealing fics for people to read, so maybe it is better if I just keep them to myself, since in my head I already know what’s going on in those worlds lol.

What are your writing strengths?

I honestly don’t know. I haven’t had a creative writing class since middle school, and since then I’ve only ever shown creative writing to others in a fandom context, so it’s been a while since I’ve discussed it or gotten critical feedback. I suppose when I work in other arts or even academic writing contexts, people usually say I’m kind of insightful or at least detail oriented, which might just be another way of saying I overthink things, but I like to imagine I’m decent at finding little points of interest to expand upon.

What are your writing weaknesses?

If you’ve read this far I feel like you must know what I’m about to say: I do not know how to be concise.

Usually when I’m writing a fic, I put down the dialogue first on its own, leaving out the action of the scene and whatever plot/context led there, even if I’ve already figured all of that out. But then when I go to add those things in, they’re always longer than I wanted them to be. I don’t mind writing something long, but I don’t want my fics to be a slog to get through either, and there can be a point at which the stuff I’ve added for context overwhelms the stuff that I wanted the fic to be about in the first place, so it becomes a structural/proportion issue too. I haven’t completely given up on any fics because of this yet, but there’s one I’ve been struggling with for a couple months now - probably because I’m even second-guessing myself on which scenes need to be written out and which can just be referenced like a recap. Hopefully I figure that one out soon.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

((this is karma isn’t it? i posted a fic last week with two words of gaelic in it and was worried about that and now this is karma))

In general, I don’t want to do it. I feel like you’ve gotta have a really good grasp of a language to write dialogue & speech patterns for someone who’s a native speaker, and since I’m far from fluent in any language the characters I write for are, I wouldn’t feel confident writing any significant amount of dialogue in, say, Gaelic.

As a sidenote, though, I kinda love it when other people do it, particularly for Jamie. Irish (Gaeilge) and Scottish (Gàidhlig) are both languages I’ve wanted to learn for a long time, because my family’s fresh out of living speakers of either & I think that’s a shame, but I started with Irish and at the moment I’m still very much learning it. As different as they are, it still helps me understand parts of lyrics or texts that I come across in Gàidhlig fairly frequently, so when it comes up in a fic I get to feel like I’m being responsible and practicing, and it’s great when I can actually understand what’s being said.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I’m gonna go with Harry Potter even though that’s probably not a perfectly accurate answer - it’s almost certainly the first thing that has a fandom that I ever wrote for, but it was in a notebook when I was a kid and never something that I even typed on a computer, much less posted online or shared with other members of a fandom. But even then, I’m sure it wasn’t the first pre-existing fictional universe I ever set an original story in, because I did that a lot when I was a kid, it’s just hard to remember those clearly or on any kind of timeline.

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

I’m very partial to Across the Gap, so I was pleasantly surprised to see that ranked first on the kudos thing above - but I’ve also got a soft spot for So Merrily We’ll Sing. It’s so self-indulgent it feels silly saying ‘it was so easy to write!’ but I guess having a fic that’s already just 100% headcaonons and fluff tied together by a song you really love does prevent it from being much of a labor (I also managed to refrain from making that one unnecessarily long, so that’s another win there)

tagging @terryfphanatics and anyone else who wants to do it - sorry I’m bad at remembering whose tumblr goes with whose Ao3 account, but I really would be interested to read this if anyone else feels like answering them!

#oh boy that was long #sorry #also sorry if the 13 is really big for some reason #i dont know how it got that way so i dont know how to change it #it doesnt look like that when i edit the post only when i save it #not fic but fic talk

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uncloseted · 3 years

Note

Why do you think some Americans think being British is cool? What's the appeal of it?

Good question! There are a few reasons.

The first is that the US is a former British colony, and our "founding fathers" were by and large British. That may seem like it's unimportant to this conversation because the Revolutionary War ended in 1784, but a lot of early "American Culture" was actually British, and that culture persists today. A lot of what we consider "high culture" or "academic" is just British in origin- we read Shakespeare, Dickens, Eliot, and Austen in school. A lot of our cities and towns are named after places in the UK, our Ivy League universities are modeled after Oxford and Cambridge, parts of our government are based on English law systems, we share their language, etc. Americans grow up with an affinity for the British because as a country, they're kind of our roots (which is weird, because we fought a war to get away from them, but... whatever).

Along that train of thought, a lot of people in the US have an affinity for the British because they view themselves as "being British". In American schools, they tend to sell this idea that "America is a melding pot", and to do so, they often ask kids to "discover their heritage" by finding out where their ancestors were from before they came to the US. In 1909, 91.8% of immigrants were from England, Scotland, or Wales. In 1984, it was estimated that 47.5% of the total population and 60.9% of the white population in the US was of English descent alone (so not including people who are descended from Irish, Scottish, or Welsh immigrants). That's a lot of people who, in primary school, are told that part of their identity is "British" or "English", and who then find the UK to be special because it's "where they're from". There are also just a lot of British immigrants to the US due to the lack of language barrier, and so British people in the US are sometimes thought of as "cool" and "foreign" but not fundamentally different or threatening (if that makes sense). Likewise, the UK is accessible for Americans because it's different, but not that different.

The last culprit is media. Since the UK is the other big English-speaking country that produces media (apologies to Australia and Canada), and especially since in the US we think of British media as being "classic", a lot of Americans are exposed to British TV shows, movies, music, and books from a young age. For books, the most obvious example is Harry Potter, but also the Narnia Chronicles, The Lord of the Rings, Alice in Wonderland, Winnie the Pooh, Peter Pan, anything written by Roald Dahl... for music, you have the Beatles, The Rolling Stones, the Who, and other "British Invasion" bands that were popular with many of our parents, for TV shows, you have/had the online popularity of shows like Doctor Who, Sherlock, Merlin, Skins, Good Omens, Misfits, and Sex Education... A lot of the media that's "cool" in the US comes from the UK, so there's an assumption that the UK is also cool.

I also think that, because of the media from the UK that Americans interact with, a lot of people, consciously or not, imagine that the UK is a quirky place where there are princess and princesses and where magical things happen, and so there's a certain romanticization of the UK because of that.

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didanawisgi · 4 years

Link

Jazz and freemasonry are unlikely bedfellows, but in the 1950s, the secret society became a support network for musicians and the world’s largest fraternity for black men, among them Duke Ellington and Sun Ra

When the City of London festival found out about a long dormant masonic temple that had been uncovered next to Liverpool Street station, it seemed obvious that this wonderfully opulent hall should be used as a one-off music venue. The only question was – what music should it host?

“The obvious choice would have been to host a Mozart recital, because everyone knows that Mozart was a freemason,” says Paul Gudgin, former director of the Edinburgh Fringe and now director of the City of London Festival. “But it just so happened that I was reading a biography of Duke Ellington which mentioned, in passing, his membership of a masonic lodge. I found it astonishing that such an anti-establishment figure turned out to be at the heart of an establishment organisation. And I thought it would be a perfect place to pay tribute.”

This month, the City of London Festival will host two Duke Ellington tributes in this elaborate, neo-classical masonic temple, now in the basement of the Hyatt group’s Andaz hotel. Saxophonist Tommy Smith plays on 4 July, and pianist Julian Joseph on 11 July.

“It’s something of a badge of honour to hear that Ellington was a mason,” says Joseph. “Not only was he part of a musical elite, but he had managed to enter this secretive and powerful organisation, one that only the privileged few had access to.”

Start digging into the history of freemasonry and you discover that Ellington was just one of many renowned African-American musicians to be inducted into its mysterious world. He was joined by the likes of Nat King Cole, WC Handy, Dizzy Gillespie, Count Basie, Lionel Hampton and Paul Robeson.

“Throughout history, freemasonry has attracted musicians,” says Martin Cherry, librarian at the Museum of Freemasonry in London. “Mozart is the obvious example, but in 18th-century London, a lodge was established called the Lodge of the Nine Muses, which attracted a number of European musicians and artists, including JC Bach. For musicians and artists who were new to a city, the lodge would have been an opportunity to meet fellow artists and network with people with whom they may be able to find work.”

The same applied two centuries later, across the Atlantic. “Musicians often led an itinerant lifestyle,” says Cherry. “Belonging to an organisation that had lodges all over a country could help ease the slog of life on the road, particularly in such a vast country as the US.

“Freemasonry was also charitable towards its members when they fell on hard times, looking after them when they were sick or paying for their funeral. Mozart’s funeral, famously, was paid for by his lodge, and there’s evidence that freemasons paid for the funeral of the blues musician Mississippi Fred McDowell – there are images of his open coffin which show him wearing his masonic regalia.”

Many white jazz musicians and bandleaders were freemasons, including Glenn Miller, Paul Whiteman, George Gershwin and Irving Berlin, as were many country & western stars. But, like so much in American life, freemasonry was segregated, with American masonic lodges split along colour lines.

Black freemasons: the sons of Prince Hall

Black freemasonry dates from before the American war of independence, when a freed black abolitionist and leather worker by the name of Prince Hall (1735-1807) was refused admittance to the St John’s masonic lodge in Boston, Massachusetts. Undaunted by the rebuff, Hall and 14 other free black men were initiated into freemasonry in 1775 by a British military lodge based in Boston.

In 1784, after the British had left America, the grand lodge of England issued Hall with a charter to set up an African lodge in Boston. It proved so popular that Prince Hall was granted the status of provincial grand master, allowing him to set up two further African masonic lodges in Philadelphia and Rhode Island.

Over the next two centuries, Prince Hall freemasonry snowballed across the United States, becoming the world’s largest fraternity for black men. By the middle of the 20th century there were lavish Prince Hall masonic temples around the country – from Los Angeles to Washington DC, from Seattle to Madison, Wisconsin.

“One of the attractions of Prince Hall freemasonry to African-Americans is that it is an organisation started by African-Americans in the 18th century for African-Americans,” says Cherry. “It has a history. And, like all freemasonry in America, it became very popular in the early 20th century, which was a time when Americans tended to join things.”

By 1900, Prince Hall masonry had become a forum for politicised African-Americans, with Booker T Washington (1856-1915) and W.E.B. Du Bois (1868-1963) serving as active members. Throughout the 20th century, many key figures in the civil rights movement were attracted to freemasonry. The father of Martin Luther King Jr – Martin Luther King Sr (1900-84) – was a member of the 23rd lodge in Atlanta, Georgia. Medgar Evers, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) activist who was assassinated in 1963, was a 32nd-degree freemason in Ancient & Accepted Scottish Rite, Southern Jurisdiction. Alex Haley (1921-92), the writer of Roots and biographer of Malcolm X, was a 33rd-degree mason in the same order. Thurgood Marshall (1908-93), the first black member of the US supreme court, was supported by his Prince Hall lodge in Louisiana. The comedian Richard Pryor (1940-2005) joined a lodge in Peoria, Illinois, while actor and activist Ossie Davis (1917-2005), Paul Robeson (1898-1976) and the boxer Sugar Ray Robinson (1921-89) were all active Prince Hall masons.

“Like all freemasonry, Prince Hall freemasonry does tend to have a middle-class appeal,” says Cherry. “The many Prince Hall visitors to the Masonic Library and Museum in London are often doctors, lawyers or skilled artisans, and a lot of them have a military background. Some join because their family were members; some think it’s a good way of networking. Some like the comradeship and the social aspects; others like the ritual and the regalia.”

As well as being a networking institution, freemasonry might also have had a philosophical appeal to many politicised African-Americans. The mysterious tenets of freemasonry include gnostic texts, references to ancient Egypt and alternative interpretations of the Bible. Prince Hall lodges thus became a forum where pre-Christian knowledge could mix freely with black liberation theories and remnants of African religions...”

#jazz #duke ellington #music #culture #paul robeson #freemasonry #freemason #freemasons #lost keys of freemasonry #Prince Hall #Nat King Cole #W.E.B. DuBois #booker t. washington

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3615rose · 3 years

Text

So, while waiting for that self insert huge fanfic I'm brewing, here's some fluffy delicious self insert one-shot I dreamt (sorry for the bad English, my mother language is French)

Nightmares

Mahina had nightmares almost each night, flowers burning, cries from those plants she was able to hear, and her dead mother constantly looming over her. And having a symbiotic relationship with the pustula flowers living on her head would not help, as she would dream of them getting ripped off.

The young woman dreaded the night, pushing to her limits her body and ignoring the constant fatigue with books about plants, making tea blend and soaps, or by watching Talbot experimenting all night long on his serums.

Talbot was amazing, with master skills in chemistry and a golden heart. And when he discovered Mahina wandering in the void, and pleased to find someone that was so close to the flowers he studied that he offered to wander with him, and found the comfort in a shelter far away from all the entity's plan.

So sometimes, he left. For his trials. And that's when she tried to sleep a little. Both for her health than to avoid aving pity for her bad sleeping habit. And she curled up, using one of his clothing as a teddy bear to give her strength to confront her inner demon.

And so, he left, again, blighted with all the serums he needed, his face distorted, he was the mister Hyde of that sweet but brillant doctor jekyll. And she kept his other trench against her while lying down a beaten up sofa, using the trench as a plaid.

First, the comforting dark, moments of serenity and peace, then the flowers, burned by her family, her own eyes rolling down on her feet, she was scared.

Something more happened. Something she never had.

Her sister appeared, with a big smile before aiming a gun at her head. And as the bang was heard, Mahina jolted out of her sleep to see Talbot working on the table near the sofa. He put the vial he was holding on its place and kneeled in front of Mahina.

"Hey, are you okay?"

She was red as a beet, still holding the trench in one hand.

"Y-yeah, it's alright. Just a bad dream."

He nodded and put his hand on her face, smiling.

"It's over now, you are here, and it's not so bad."

"Yes you are right."

"Want to talk about that dream around a tea?"

Mahina yawned, the idea of a warm tea was appealing, and he didn't do anything that could have made her more shameful than she already was.

He took back the trench to put it on the coat hanger and went to put water in the kettle he put on the brick stove. And she stood up, walking a little to wake up her legs, and seeing what he wrote on his new experiment.

"Compound thirty... Three... Usable for humans and not as dangerous, is that an alternative to what you are using Talbot?"

The Scottish man put flowers in the kettle then walked to the paper, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Oh no, it's for the survivors of the entity, they need something to feel better too. And you can use it too if you get badly hurt."

"I see, this is impressing all you can do, like you want to save the same people you put on these hooks..."

He sighed. He didn't like the idea of sacrifice for the Entity, but he was able to fulfill his experiments.

"So, you still need to talk about that dream of yours. And why you were using my coat as a plaid."

Oh yes. Now she's in a bad place. Like why she used that to make her feel secure. And it didn't work. Nice.

"Oh the dreams? Still the same, burning with flowers and everything, but for the trench, I was cold and lazy to grab a real plaid from upstairs."

"There is three plaid here. I know you are not telling me everything."

She took the teacups and put them on the table.

"Bring me tea, and then I'll tell you, but you need to promise me you won't laugh, or get angry or more"

He filled both cups with the herbal tea, filling the tense air with a sweet smell of lavender and chamomile.

"I won't."

"I used it to help me combat the nightmares."

She knew he held a laugh, but continued.

"You have seen how I tend to collapse instead of taking a good night of sleep right?"

He nodded.

"So, since you makes me courageous... Like outside in the void... I though that if I had your smell next to me..."

"I would ward of your nightmares? This is the most adorable thing I heard in a long time."

Mahina blushed at Talbot's answer. He was right but like... No!

"I am sorry, I'll ask you next time!"

"I have a better idea Mahina, what if you sleep next to me next time? Your charming prince would save you from all those bad thoughts."

Was he teasing her? She didn't know, her heart was all fluttering and she was pinching herself discreetly to know if she was dreaming again.

"I mean... I'm not against it... But you'll be annoyed.. And... I'm not sure what to say..."

His grin. His freaking grin. He had something behind his genius brain of his.

"Then say nothing. I studied you Mahina, I noticed how erratic you were around me, and I knew you used my clothes as little talismans. Tell me, do you love me?"

The fatal question. Either she lies and he'll know it because he's a smart-ass or she tell the truth, get rejected and kinda used and dissected for the flowers.

"... Yes. I am so sorry, excuse me Talbot!"

He hugged her, and she was confused.

"Thank god, I am not alone at least. I love you too Mahina, that's why I wasn't minding the clothes you took but I was annoying at the fact you needed sleep, I care about you!"

And so they kissed and it was fluffy.

The end

#talbot grimes #the blight #self insert #oneshot #fanfic

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spoocyshrub · 3 years

Text

Introductions:

Hi! i’m a spoocy shrub, y’all can call me Spoocy. i’m 31 and female.

This is my oddworld blog! i use this for reblogging oddworld content but i also use it as a main hub for my oc muses that i use for asks or roleplay purposes.

I am the mun behind this Big Face blog and the Queen Sam blog. SomeBigFace is technically my primary account due to social limitations between primary and secondary blogs. but this account you are on currenty is considered “The main hub” so to speak.

I am not a great artist, so i don’t really have any of my own art content.

I have some oc’s i use for Roleplay interactions or asks. not all of them have bio pages or references yet:

Good side:

Elli : Native of the Monsaic Lines. Adopted daughter of Big Face the shaman. A female with her fertility intact. She goes out to help with the rebellion efforts by rescuing slaves, especially children and labor eggs. she takes them to sanctuary to hatch and eventually finds homes for them.

Dokk: Ex-slave worker. Elli’s best friend and younger brother figure to Elli. After leaving the safety of Nolybab and his caretaker’s charge, he moved to Sanctuary and is their doctor and dentist. he also works at the hospital stationed there as a supervisor. Physically handicapped. He has a mechanical arm and piece of slig pants for a leg.

Bram: A mudokon with a thick Scottish accent. Dokk and Elli’s best friend and fellow mechanic stationed over in sanctuary. You can send asks directed at Bram asking if he can play you music on the bagpipes.

Dr. Cornelius (ref): A vykker. Originally stationed within Nolybab, he has moved to the village of Sanctuary. Roleplays can take place either or.

Queen Anna: a Spiritual Entity that can take on the form of Oddworld’s creatures and Elli’s deceased mother.

Tekkno (ref) : An oddworld Fan Species Oc. Very nervous and just trying to live life on the surface.

Remmy: The Brother of Queen Sam. (Currently stationed over on @enslaved-queenmother but does appear in certain threads on this blog)

Mama Jeni: Mudokon Trickster Shaman who has the power of a shadow spirit on her side. one hundred and fifteen years young.

Baby Gideon: One of Queen Sam’s infant children, making him the baby brother of Abe, Alf, and Toby. (currently stationed over on @enslaved-queenmother but does make appearances in threads on this blog)

Umbra/Umbriel: (ref for original form) Once the fragment of Lebone as Umbra, Umbriel is a spirit of Light and personal attendant and messenger to Mother Odd and Afareet. Caretaker to Lebone and @themudokonmessiah’s Seraphim.

Tufford: Known as tuff for short. He is one of the half brothers of Elli and one of the sons of Queen Anna. He is a fully evolved mudokon drone and is large in height and heavily built.

Leon (uncorrupt reference) : Sometimes called Lee for short. He is one of the half brothers of Elli and one of the sons of Queen Anna. Normally a very nervous and fidgety type of guy who tends to stutter a bunch.

Jobb: The once crazed servant of baron Sammdei and vessel to Noddaba. Having been freed by Abe. He now serves as a teacher of the darker forces of Oddworld. How to avoid making deals you cannot back out of, and what to watch out for with the various dark spirits and gods.

Neutral:

Oswald Buptkitzer: A glukkon that is a member of Lady Margaret’s inner circle. He seeks to have her replaced so he can make an effort to repair and heal mudos by appealing to glukkon greed. A close family friend of Dr. Cornelius. (more on the aspect of Neutral Good)

Erebosa (reference): Broodmother of the dark spirits and tricksters. Patron goddess of Glukkons. Her loyalties are known to be fickle and motivated heavily by food (Falls more on the aspect of Neutral Good, but will perform some absolutely heinous acts if you cross her)

Evil:

Baron Sammdei / Noddaba: A Corrupt god taking the form of a glukkon hex caster. He will stop at nothing for complete control of Oddworld.

-Note. Certain threads depict Baron Sammdei as his own person and not associated to Noddaba. These tend to be on the side of good or even Neutral.-

Depends on the circumstances or Threads:

Gabriel Lure (ref): (Currently stations over on @enslaved-queenmother ) Abe’s biological father and Queen Sam’s ex husband. Once Power hungry and saught a position on the council of shaman elders while acting as a puppet for the evil spirit known as Lebone. Previous Vessel for the three oracles. He has since had his powers stripped from him. Once evil, now trying to walk the path of redemption since being freed from Lebone’s control. (Canon events he was evil turned good. certain threads depict him as evil, or good)

Roxx (ref) and Daisy: an outlaw ex-slave wrangler and a slig who is head over heels in love with her boss man. (Canon events have them neutral. depending on the thread they do go back to being evil)

Lebone (ref): Born Demi-god. Son of Mother Odd and Afareet, the two prime gods of Oddworld. Having been defeated by Abe, he now faces judgement for all the crimes he committed against Oddworld. (Canon events he was evil turned Neutral. His alignment depends on the thread. Some cases he will revert to evil status for certain asks)

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I sometimes do other minor fan character or even main characters for the sake of storytelling with other blogs. I don’t normally accept asks for them and they just exist within the story or universe. You may send me a note to ask if a character is open to receiving questions if you aren’t sure.

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I tend to reach out to other ask blogs via mentions due to the primary/secondary account limitations.

However in instances where its say an ask game. i will appear in anon, but i will mention My blog [spoocyshrub] and if there is a muse in particular asking it Example: {Elli}

When the Mun is speaking in roleplay interactions or tag i use (( and )) for these.

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here’s a map for all the locations where you can find my muses.

Here’s a Collection of the current ask prompts and such for you guys to look through!

Height charts

#Introductions #HEEEEERE'S SPOOCY!

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queer-crusader · 4 years

Text

Okay update on my life since it seems talking about it doesn’t trigger another panic attack/breakdown:

So i graduated in july right

And with the end of uni, my student funding ends too

So i look for a job bc i cannot sustain myself otherwise

Except the economy is shit, because the UK is handling the pandemic almost worse than any other country in the world (we love that)

Knowing i’ll need some financial support to tie me over, i apply to universal credit

I also know my roommate, who i’ve lived with for 5 years, is moving out in october, and i will need to find someone to replace her or i end up paying £1000/month for living in this flat, which i don’t have of course

Job search becomes more frantic and exhausting and stressful

Also my dad started throwing up at some point and is eating less and is very specific about not upsetting his stomach. This is strange because he is known for his iron stomach and has not thrown up in years. I know my family history, i have my suspicions, but the doctor says it could be an ulcer. It could be fine, but my brain jumps to the worst-case scenario, because why wouldn’t it? More stress

Universal credit gets back to me - application denied

I think, hey, the category they filed me under seems wrong, i should be a habitual resident, not an EEA jobseeker, because i’ve lived here 6 years now. So i apply for an appeal, explaining the situation

Few weeks later, i receive a letter. Appeal rejected. It goes into detail how some rule that was set up in 2016 (Brexit year) lists all the reasons why just living here for 6 years, building up contacts, creating a future, feeling at home, being allowed to vote for Scottish parliament elections, is not good enough. Every sentence is like a punch in the gut. The letter boils down to fancy government words that translate to “you’re a freeloading immigrant who, according to our records, might as well be living in Fiji, and we’re giving you fuck all. Good luck surviving”

Full-blown breakdown ensues, because I’ve been fearing this ever since i arrived but was told by EVERYONE that that fear is ridiculous. I fit in, i belong, i sound English, i’m fluent, i’m passionate and well-educated about local politics, etc. I knew it wouldn’t be good enough. Race doesn’t matter; I’m European, and for the UK government, that’s good enough.

Anyway, cue the next day, and my mum phones me with news

My dad is in hospital. Turns out i was right - bowel cancer. He’s going into emergency surgery the very next day to get a tumour removed

I don’t sleep that night, for obvious reasons

Dad comes out of surgery fine, they got the whole thing, took some extra tests to see if it spread but it’s looking good so far. Meanwhile i have images of my dad, skinny as hell and with a tube up his nose seared into my brain

I fly home two days later to be with my family, who obviously need me

My dad is cleared of cancer, which is AWESOME, but we do learn that if the doctors had waited a couple days longer he could have had a perforated bowel. My mum is furious with the GP who underestimated the case

I get in touch with my landlady, saying “hey, this is my life right now, i am not in a position to search for a roommate replacement. Here’s the pics we took of the flat, can you look yourself? Also, if i don’t find a job by the end of the month, I may have to move out as well due to financial struggles, so keep in mind there’s a chance you’re going to have to look for two new tenants”

Landlady’s reply: “oh i can’t afford for the flat to be empty so i’m gonna sell it now”

So now i don’t even have an option of keeping the flat. I’ll have to move out, job or not. I can’t afford a new flat, and i can’t look for one bc a) pandemic and b) im in another country looking after my recovering dad (who is still losing weight btw, 15kg or 30-something lbs or 2.5 stone in a month, it’s horrible to see but at least he’s feeling a little better each day)

If i lose my flat, i may not be able to get a UK job. If i don’t get a UK job, chances are, i can not return to Scotland

6 years of living here, of building friendships, contacts and connections, skills for a career (which is also down the drain - theatre, an industry that is currently being killed by a lovely combo of the UK govt and the pandemic), a home, a love for the county, an intimate knowledge of the workings here, the language, the system, the stories, the history, i almost know the system here better than the Dutch one - my entire adult life. I may lose.

There is a chance i’ll be able to cling on, and god im fighting for it with the few spoons i have after all this stress, but the chance of me losing everything is equally plausible.

I have now flown back to Scotland where I put myself in self-isolation

In a week, my roommate will have moved out and i have 10 or so days left stuck in this place all by myself

I will spend this time packing up all my belongings, choosing what to take back to my parents’ place with me and what to put into storage, which i will pay for with my remaining savings and some financial support from the parents (they can’t afford much tho, my mum is unemployed and on benefits and my dad is a freelancer recovering from fucking surgery. I have no idea what their financial situation is right now, but apparently they’re okay-ish with their savings. Still, stress, and i don’t wanna burden them even more)

Then there’s the hope that the lockdown won’t have regressed back to that point where every plane is cancelled, and i’m stuck in this country without a place to call my home. (Don’t worry, i won’t end up on the street if this happens, I have friends willing to shelter me until i can fly home if they have to)

And once i’ve left, it’s only a question of when, and more promenently if, I’ll be able to return here, to Scotland.

I have never been this stressed, and i have never been this terrified. I am angry all the time (yes you can read that in Zuko’s voice lmao), I’m exhausted, and i’m fuelled by spite against prime minister Blow-Job and sheer stubbornness in refusing to feel like shit, because i just can’t be bothered with that. I just about manage to get through the day, to get up at a reasonable time, to feed myself, to shower, to exercise (because if i don’t, my wonky hip will give me hell and i’ll be in agony on top of my depression and anxiety. We love functioning bodies). But I’ll be okay. I’m trying to find solutions for everything, one step at a time. I’m taking care of myself the best i can. And if you wonder where my writing updates are, or my shitposts, or my ridiculously excited tags, then firstly, thank you for noticing ohmygod i love you, and secondly, know that i’ll be back. If God exists, know im kicking their ass. Fuck all this bullshit, my life is a mess but i REFUSE to let it stop me in my tracks. I’m too powerful, i am Brian David Gilbert’s interpretation of Sonic (either a god or can kill god and it doesn’t matter which). I’m gonna keep on truckin.

#anne speaks #long post #tw cancer #tw weight mention #tw anxiety #tw depression #ya know #all the good stuff

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101flavoursofweird · 4 years

Note

Love a good bit of the ol whump. Ransom could work with, say, Targent agents and Desmond. Any agent could work, maybe think of it as an AU in which they take him to try and get Layton to join them.

((I’m sorry this is so late... and that the prompt ‘ransom’ isn’t even mentioned in this fic. But the prompt definitely inspired a scenario where Raymond needs to rescue his drama son from Targent agents!))

Most university students would spend their summer holidays studying, working, travelling, partying, or sleeping…

Desmond was not like most students.

That may have sounded like something Desmond would say during one of his brooding sessions, but it was true.

Most students hadn’t lost their parents to the archaeology mafia, or set up an adoption and a new identity for their younger sibling.

Most weren’t taken in by their old Scottish neighbour.

Most didn’t enter their chosen subject area with an end goal of ‘getting revenge on an ancient civilisation’. (Thankfully, Desmond had omitted that detail from his university application.)

Though he definitely had a fondness for travelling— “Apologies, Master, adventures,”— Desmond was far more invested in the archaeological lore than the nightlife of any given location.

Case in point: Gwawryn, a sleepy town in North Wales.

According to Desmond’s research, an Azran artefact had been donated to the town’s ramshackle museum last week. It was a golden-framed tablet, said to have belonged to the Azran sages.

Desmond had visited the museum in the day with Raymond (during opening hours) to confirm whether the tablet was authentic. And now, at one am, Desmond was busy stealing the tablet.

Much to Raymond’s relief, Desmond hadn’t asked for his help with the heist. Raymond was content to wait at the inn where they were staying. He had shown his face to the inn keeper half an hour ago and requested some honey and lemon tea for his poor ‘son’ who was stuck in bed with a cold. (“He’s not used to this Welsh weather,” Raymond had joked.)

The honey and lemon tea had been sitting untouched on Raymond’s bedside table for three hours.

Where was Desmond?

Raymond checked the chiming clock on the wall. Earlier, when he was preparing for his heist, Desmond had threatened to throw the clock out the window. Raymond had found its chimes comforting... but with each passing minute, he was starting to agree with Desmond.

Shouldn’t he be back by now?

If Desmond had gotten caught by the police, surely they would have contacted Raymond. Raymond would have to go to the police station to confirm, “Aye, that’s my bampot son who’s supposed to be in bed!”, and back up any excuses Desmond had concocted for breaking into the museum.

Raymond would almost find it reassuring if Desmond had been arrested. Maybe he would finally give this Azran nonsense a rest...

Another thirty minutes crawled by— still no Desmond.

Right, then...

Praying the inn keeper had already gone to sleep, Raymond tied their bedsheets together and shimmed out the window. (Next time, they were booking a room on the ground floor.)

It was only a fifteen-minute sprint to the museum. Raymond made sure he kept to the shadows and ducked under any windows. The last thing he needed was to be spotted while he was searching for Desmond.

The museum’s lights were out— most likely the police weren’t there, then. As far as Raymond could see, no one had broken in through the entrance or the front windows.

Had Desmond entered through a back door?

The museum’s entrance faced the main road, but it backed out on to a quiet country lane.

Raymond crept behind the building, crossing his fingers that he wouldn’t encounter any of the museum staff.

He hadn’t seen any security guards present during the day (if the museum could even afford to pay for security), but the curator had seemed extremely proud of his new Azran exhibit and kept ordering his assistant to polish its glass casing—

“Alright, get him inside,” someone ordered.

The voice was low— almost lazy— but it made Raymond freeze. He pressed his body against the side of the museum and peeped his head around the back.

Through the headlights of a dark car, Raymond was able to distinguish two figures in blue uniforms and black glasses.

Those weren’t the police.

One Targent agent, a man with grey hair and a slim build, was holding the golden-edged Azran tablet.

The second agent was taller— at least six feet— and he was wearing a pointed blue cap. An unconscious Desmond was slung over his shoulder.

The car’s back doors were open.

Raymond tensed. Fight or flight— how should he respond? Fight to defend Desmond. Flight to escape with Desmond. Or... Perhaps this was a trick. Desmond would stir at any second now and steal the tablet...

The taller agent threw Desmond into the back of the car. Desmond didn’t wake up. Why wasn’t he waking up?

Before they could shut the car door and disappear with Desmond forever, Raymond shouted, “Wait!”

The agents turned as he rushed out from behind the museum, panting, “Please, wait. That’s my... my son you’ve got there.”

The man holding the tablet scratched his long chin. He glanced from Desmond to Raymond. (Would he notice the lack of a family resemblance?)

“Who are you?” he asked casually, as if kidnapping archaeology students was a common occurrence.

Raymond swallowed, stalling for a minute as he regained his composure. Then he replied, “My name is Alaric Riddock.” His mother’s maiden name— bless her soul.

The man gestured to Desmond, who was still slumped inside the car. “And this is...?”

“Jack Riddock,” Raymond said. He raised his eyebrows, playing dumb. “Who are you two?”

“That’s classified,” the taller agent snapped.

“Manners, Cass,” the agent with the tablet rebuked. (It was clear who was in charge here.) He smiled at Raymond... or tried to smile— it was hard to tell with that extended chin of his.

“We work for Targent— an organisation tasked with preserving ancient artefacts,” Mr. Chin explained, lifting the Azran tablet to his chest. “Have you heard of us, by any chance?”

Raymond shook his head.

“What are your professions?”

“Farmers,” Raymond said. He had been a doctor, years ago, but Targent didn’t need to know that.

Raymond looked over at Desmond again, expecting him to protest at being called a bumpkin farmer. But Desmond’s eyes remained closed. (Hopefully Targent hadn’t recognised his eyes...)

The taller agent, ‘Cass’, scoffed. “Both of you?”

Raymond nodded. “Runs in the family.”

“I see...” said Mr. Chin, unimpressed. (Targent weren’t interested in recruiting farmers.) Mr. Chin wondered, “What brings you two to Gwa... Gwa-ryn...?” If he couldn’t wrap his tongue around the Welsh name, then he couldn’t be from the local area.

“Gwawryn?” Raymond pronounced.

“That’s it! What brings you here?”

“Shouldn’t you be out collecting corn?” Cass sneered.

Raymond shrugged. “Break for the summer... and for the wife.”

Mr. Chin hummed. “And what was Jack doing at the museum so late at night?”

Raymond sighed. “Don’t tell me— did he try to pinch something?”

“Indeed,” Mr. Chin confirmed. His hold on the tablet tightened. “He tried to ‘pinch’ this priceless artefact. It’s lucky we caught him...”

Raymond frowned at Desmond— How much force had they used to ‘catch’ him?— and tutted loudly. “Please forgive my boy. He has a history of shoplifting...” (Would Targent find that too appealing?) “...But the police always catch him in the end. It’s like he wants to be caught! He’s got a good heart, deep down—“

“Well, then,” Mr. Chin interrupted, “we’ll be sure to put him on the right path.”

He nodded to Cass. Cass got into the front of the car and started the engine.

Raymond’s eyes widened. “Please,” he breathed, “release my son. He’s only nineteen...”

Twenty-one, actually, but Desmond looked young for his age. Raymond often had to remind himself of that.

“Then he should learn quickly,” Mr. Chin chuckled. He slipped into the back seat next to Desmond.

Desmond still had his whole life ahead of him. Targent wanted to take that away.

Not on Raymond’s watch.

Raymond dived into the car as Mr. Chin reached for the back door handle. Chin grunted and moved to block him from grabbing Desmond.

Raymond grabbed the Azran tablet from his hands. He slammed it into Mr. Chin’s face. The tablet shattered.

Cass was shouting from the front of the car. He turned around in the driver’s seat and tried to climb into the back, but he was too tall.

While he was stuck and Chin was still dazed, Raymond dragged Desmond out of the car. He hauled Desmond onto his back and ran past the museum.

The two agents howled with rage. Neither of them had expected to be beaten by a blathering old farmer.

—

“Ray...mond?” Desmond mumbled when finally he came to, back at the inn. “What happened?” He squinted at Raymond and struggled to sit up in bed.

Raymond gently pushed him back down. “You received a blow to the head... and most likely, a concussion.”

Desmond winced when his head touched the pillow. He hissed, “What?”

“Don’t worry about it now—“

“Tell me!”

“Shush!” Raymond glanced at the door.

Desmond huffed, “It’s just the inn keeper—“

“No, it’s Targent,” Raymond whispered furiously, glaring back at Desmond. “They attacked you at the museum and they then tried to abduct you.”

Desmond’s face went even more pale. His fists gripped the bedsheets. “Was that... because I had the Azran tablet?”

“Let’s hope so, and not—“

“Where’s the tablet?” Desmond gasped. “Don’t tell me they got it?”

Only Desmond would be more concerned with an Azran treasure than his own safety. “They did,” Raymond said, “but I think I destroyed it when I rescued you.”

Desmond lay there in silence, staring at Raymond. All of his scheming had been for nothing. The Azran tablet had been reduced to splinters now. Good riddance, if you asked Raymond.

He was startled when Desmond released a small laugh.

“Thanks, Raymond. Better that then letting them keep it...” His laugh morphed into a pained groan. He rubbed his head.

“As soon as it’s light out, I’m taking you to the hospital,” Raymond vowed.

#Professor Layton #Raymond #Desmond sycamore #Targent #my writing #pl fanfic #my fics #prompt #whumptober #Yeah since we’re now in October 2020 this might be the last Whumptober fic I write #thank you for suggesting Desmond!#The agents are Shoebill and Cassowary #Inspired by the creepiest bird and what is considered the most dangerous bird

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aion-rsa · 4 years

Text

Holiday Gift Guide 2020: Books for Geeks

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

The holiday season is probably going to look very different this year, but there’s one thing that hasn’t changed: the sacred ritual of gift-giving. While we might not be able to gather in the same way for the 2020 holiday season, we can still let the people in our lives know how much they mean to us with the perfect gift (and maybe get ourselves something nice while we’re at it—we deserve it).

We here at Den of Geek believe there is no better gift than a good book and, with nerd culture still very much mainstream culture, there is no shortage of geeky books to get the nerd in your life. From Star Wars and Star Trek to Outlander and Wheel of Time to those speculative fiction books that broke into the zeitgeist this year without a franchise to support them, here’s a list of books we recommend for every kind of geek…

Editor’s note: Den of Geek may receive a small commission from items purchased through the links in this story.

The Eye of the World 30th Anniversary Edition by Robert Jordan

For the “Wheel of Time” fan in your life.

We’re all excited about the forthcoming Amazon Prime adaptation of the Wheel of Time series, especially long-time fans of Jordan’s fantasy epic. It’s been 30 years since the series launched, and this special 30th Anniversary Edition of the first book in the series, The Eye of the World, helps capture all the magic of reading the book for the first time. This edition features a new introduction by Brandon Sanderson, a hardcover stamp of the snake-wheel symbol so important to the series, redesigned jacket art, and a ribbon bookmark. Whether you want to give this to a longtime fan or whether you’re hoping to hook an epic fantasy reader on the series, the high production value on this special edition makes for a great gift.

Buy The Eye of the World 30th Anniversary Edition by Robert Jordan

The Wintertime Paradox: Festive Stories from the World of Doctor Who by Dave Rudden

For the Doctor Who fan in your life.

This spin on Doctor Who features twelve stories in the “Whoverse” all set on or around Christmas. While the holiday doesn’t play an important feature in many of the stories, visions of the Doctor’s Christmas Past, Present, and Future are sure to entertain. Though most likely to appeal to fans of the series, this is also a collection marketed toward children, which makes it possible to share your love of the series with a young person in your life.

Buy The Wintertime Paradox: Festive Stories from the World of Doctor Who by Dave Rudden

Heroes’ Feast: The Official Dungeons and Dragons Cookbook

For the gamer in your life.

While cooking these recipes isn’t as simple as casting the titular spell, it does contain eighty recipes for fantasy inspired feasts. In addition to the recipes—some of which may be a little challenging for beginners, as they start from scratch rather than premade ingredients—the foods come with lore about the foods from the familiar Dungeons and Dragons cultures. Included are recipes for Feywild Eggs, “Orc” Bacon, Dwarven Mulled Wine, and Halfling Heartland’s Rose Apple and Blackberry Pie. Making some of these for game night might be a challenge, but Halfling-style Melted Cheeses with Chunky Tomato Broth sounds so good, your giftee won’t even mind if some spills on their character sheet.

Buy Heroes’ Feast: The Official Dungeons and Dragons Cookbook

Rebel Sisters by Tochi Onyebuchi

For the anti-war, YA fan in your life.

It’s been a big year for Onyebuchi, with this second book in his “War Girls” series and his first adult novel, Riot Baby, hitting the shelves. Onyebuchi’s Afrofuturist YA features nineteen year old Ify as a respected medical officer on the Space Colonies, and Uzo, a synth who’s working to preserve the memories and history of wartorn Nigeria. When a virus hits the Space Colonies, Ify must return to Nigeria for answers—even though she’d pledged to leave her homeland behind. For readers who love strong Black girls leading the action in a space-bound future, this is a fantastic pick.

Buy Rebel Sisters by Tochi Onyebuchi

To Sleep in a Sea of Stars by Christopher Paolini

For the Eragon and space opera fan.

Fantasy readers remember Christopher Paolini from “The Inheritance Cycle,” published for YA readers, which were filled with dragons and magic. But Paolini’s first adult novel heads into space, introducing the Fractalverse setting, and focusing on a xenobiologist whose encounter with an ancient, alien artifact sends her across the galaxy, where the fate of humanity rests on her shoulders. This is a great choice for fans who grew up on Paolini’s YA novels, or for readers who like doorstopper sci fi.

Buy To Sleep in a Sea of Stars by Christopher Paolini

The Hollow Ones by Guillermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan

For fans of The Strain.

The Strain had four seasons on FX, and the horror drama procedural won fans and awards. The show was based on a trilogy of novels from master of horror Guillermo del Toro and literary heavyweight Chuck Hogan, who have now reunited on a fresh series. The Hollow Ones follows a young FBI agent who discovers an otherworldly evil when it takes over her partner—and forces her to kill him in self defense. For fans who love their procedurals with a heavy dose of horror, this is sure to keep their spines tingling.

Buy The Hollow Ones by Guillermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan

The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian by Phil Szostak

For fans of Baby Yoda.

The Mandalorian has clearly been a breakout show for Disney+, putting new life into the Star Wars universe, and featuring everyone’s favorite new character, The Child (aka Baby Yoda). The end of each episode features concept art designed for the show, and for viewers who love seeing where the ideas germinated, The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian is a fantastic way to dig into the details of the first season.

Buy The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian by Phil Szostak

Cemetery Boys by Aidan Thomas

For queer paranormal romance lovers.

Yadriel is determined to prove himself as a brujo—even though his family hasn’t accepted him as a boy. But when he raises the wrong spirit while trying to solve the mystery of his cousin’s death, everything gets more complicated. In our review, we praised the book for its groundbreaking depiction of trans identity in Latinx culture and called it “a riveting, romantic read filled with paranormal wonder.” Fans who loved the queer romance reveal in She-Ra won’t be able to stop turning pages.

Buy Cemetery Boys by Aidan Thomas

Seven of Infinities by Aliette de Bodard

For the lover of science fiction sleuths.

This latest in de Bodard’s Xuya universe features an unlikely pair of detectives teaming up to solve a murder. Vân is a poor scholar hiding her possession of an illegal implant. Sunless Woods is a mindship who is also a thief and master of disguise. The pair have to work together to solve a murder—and unravel their own secrets. For readers who enjoyed de Bodard’s previous The Tea Master and the Detective or enjoy a good detective tale in space, this is a sure hit.

Buy Seven of Infinities by Aliette de Bodard

Super Mario: Manga Mania by Yukio Sawada

For the NES nostalgic.

It’s the 35th anniversary of Super Mario Bros! This is the first Super Mario manga ever available in English, and for classic NES fans nostalgic for the good old days of their vintage system, the zany adventures contained in this volume hit all the right notes.

Buy Super Mario: Manga Mania by Yukio Sawada

Sal and Gabi Break / Fix the Universe by Carlos Hernandez

For the young reader in your life.

The Sal and Gabi duology (Sal and Gabi Break the Universe and Sal and Gabi Fix the Universe) are ostensibly about a boy who can reach through the multiverse and bring things through to his part of reality—but they’re also about friendship, finding common ground, being your best self, and sentient AI. Most middle grade books depict middle school as an evil horrible place, as much an antagonist as the book’s real villain. The Sal and Gabi books do away with all of that. Not only is Culeco Academy the coolest middle school ever, the series manages to ramp up all the tension and drama needed without having an actual villain. (Even the people who seem villainous at first turn out to be different from expected.) These are a delight for adult readers who love middle grade fiction, but they’re even more important for middle schoolers, who deserve to see kids their age saving the multiverse in communities full of hope and love.

Buy Sal and Gabi Break / Fix the Universe by Carlos Hernandez

Outlander Knitting: The Official Book of 20 Knits Inspired by the Hit Series by Kate Atherley

For the crafter in your life.

For fans of either Diana Gabaldon’s time-travel romance novel series or the hit Starz adaptation, this collection of patterns inspired by the show will transport your crafting friend into the Scottish Highlands. Featured among the projects are clothing, accessories, and decorations for the home.

Buy Outlander Knitting: The Official Book of 20 Knits Inspired by the Hit Series by Kate Atherley

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones

For horror fans.

Compared favorably to horror-master Stephen King’s It, this classic revenge horror seamlessly combines elements of social commentary and drama. The story follows for American Indian men who, as childhood friends, experienced a disturbing event together. Now, the past has come back with a vengeance, and there’s no avoiding the violence they tried to leave behind. Jones is making his mark in the world of horror, and this is a not-to-be-missed thriller.

Buy The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones

Teen Titans: Raven and Beast Boy box set by Kami Garcia and Gabriel Picolo

For DC fans.

Garcia and Picolo’s Raven and Beast Boy origin stories reinvent the characters for an audience who may have already met them in kid-friendly Teen Titans Go! or adult-aimed Titans. While the comic versions presented here draw on those previous incarnations, the stories are self-contained, giving readers both familiar and new to the DC series a chance to experience them for the first time. This hardcover box set gives the books an extra gift-worthy feeling.

Buy Teen Titans: Raven and Beast Boy box set by Kami Garcia and Gabriel Picolo

Thorn by Intisar Khanani

For the friend who needs a fresh fairy tale.

In this retelling of “The Goose Girl,” reluctant Princess Alyrra is happy to have escaped royal life. But when she learns of a plot against the prince, she must decide whether to reclaim the heritage she wanted to leave behind, or let the kingdom fall. This beautiful hardcover edition also features an additional short story set in the same world.

Buy Thorn by Intisar Khanani

Dinosaurs: The Grand Tour, Second Edition: Everything Worth Knowing about Dinosaurs from Aardonyx to Zuniceratops by Keiron Pim

For Jurassic World and other dinosaur fans.

While the 2020 entry into the Jurassic World franchise, Camp Cretaceous, was geared toward younger viewers, plenty of adults never grow out of their love of dinosaurs. And why should they? These prehistoric terrors continue to be amazing—and modern scientists continue to make new discoveries on an almost weekly basis. This huge guide to dinosaur species offers references for more than 300 species full of colorful illustrations that show these titans in all their (feathery!) glory.

Buy Dinosaurs—The Grand Tour, Second Edition: Everything Worth Knowing about Dinosaurs from Aardonyx to Zuniceratops by Keiron Pim

The City We Became by N. K. Jemisin

For the SFF connoisseur.

This series starter is set in a contemporary New York—but the city is coming to life. But a city killer is trying to stop New York from evolving, and the city’s mortal avatars are the target of its plans. It’s not uncommon to hear people considering N. K. Jemisin the best modern writer of speculative fiction, bar none, so picking up The City We Became, her most recent novel, is a no brainer if you’re buying for someone who likes smart, quality SFF.

Buy The City We Became by N. K. Jemisin

Cyber Shogun Revolution by Peter Tieryas

For the mecha enthusiast.

This triumphant conclusion to Tieryas’s United States of Japan trilogy, which can be read as a stand-alone, takes place in an alternate reality where Japan and Germany won World War II and divided the United States between them. An assassin known as Bloody Mary is determined to eliminate corruption from within the United States of Japan, regardless of the cost. It’s up to a secret police agent and a star mecha pilot to stop her, but determining enemies from friends is almost impossible. Tieryas balances the super cool world of mecha battles and spy action with searing social commentary and ethical questions, making this a challenging but imminently worthwhile read for fans of Pacific Rim.

Buy Cyber Shogun Revolution by Peter Tieryas

Star Trek: The Wisdom of Picard by Chip Carter

For the Star Trek fan in your life.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard has always been quotably wise. In this collection, Chip Carter pulls together some of the greatest lines, featuring Picard’s thoughts on leadership, justice, and space exploration. The quotes are accompanied by photography from iconic scenes of The Next Generation, making this a perfect gift for the Star Trek fan who already has everything.

Buy Star Trek: The Wisdom of Picard by Chip Carter

Axiom’s End by Lindsay Ellis

For fans of Arrival and Stranger Things.

This first contact story from Hugo-nominated video-essayist Ellis is set in an alternate 2007. In the world of the novel, Cora’s father has blown the whistle on the first contact cover up. Cora herself wants nothing to do with aliens, but when one of the aliens decides Cora is the only human he’ll talk to, she’s stuck in the middle of everything. For lovers of aliens and conspiracy theories, this is one to pick up.

Buy Axiom’s End by Lindsay Ellis

Court of Lions by Somaiya Daud

For lovers of YA court intrigue.

In this sequel to Daud’s Mirage, Amani, who has been forced to serve as the body double for Princess Maram, is on her last chance. The princess discovered Amani’s connection to the rebellion, and now Maram is suspicious of anything Amani does. Yet Amani is dedicated to the cause of seeing her people free, which means she has to make a choice: continue to work from within the palace and risk her life, or flee and risk her people. For a female-centered plot that deals with consequences of colonialism, this series conclusion and its predecessor are a sure hit.

Buy Court of Lions by Somaiya Daud

Star Wars From a Certain Point of View: The Empire Strikes Back

For the Star Wars fan.

Called “one of the best Star Wars books released this year” in our Den of Geek review, this anthology is packed with stories from authors both well-known and unfamiliar, whose works delve into the lives of central and side characters from The Empire Strikes Back. While some explore relationships between key characters (Luke, Leia, Obi-wan), others tackle the points of view of previously unnamed creatures (Sy-O, the space slug that swallows the Millenium Falcon). The stories are sometimes delightfully weird, other times grim or tender, and all a good gift choice for the Star Wars fan whose favorite film is still Empire.

Buy Star Wars From a Certain Point of View: The Empire Strikes Back

Remina by Junji Ito

For the manga fan.

This science fiction horror story centers on Dr. Oguro, who discovers a planet that has emerged from a wormhole and names it after his daughter, Remina. But as the girl Remina rises to fame, the planet shifts its course, threatening all life on Earth. Could Remina herself be the cause? This chilling story is a classic from Eisner-winner Junji Ito newly released for an English-reading audience.

Buy Remina by Junji Ito

Be Water, My Friend: The Teachings of Bruce Lee by Shannon Lee

For the martial arts enthusiast.

For friends who like a little more grounded, real-world take, this exploration of Bruce Lee’s philosophies, written by his daughter, offer insight into the legendary martial artist. Although this title offers no martial arts tips, it is full of philosophy, untold stories, and inspirational takes from the cultural icon.

Buy Be Water, My Friend: The Teachings of Bruce Lee by Shannon Lee

Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

For the lover of gothic horror.

When her cousin begs her to come rescue her from a mysterious doom, Noemí heads to a house in the Mexican countryside. As she looks into the secrets of both the house and her newly-wed cousin’s husband, Noemí finds that there’s more danger—real and supernatural—than she ever imagined. Set in the 1950s, this supernatural horror blends elements of Rebecca and science fiction for a chilling novel perfect for lovers of classic gothics.

Buy Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Marvel Greatest Comics: 100 Comics That Built a Universe

For the Marvel fan.

In a collection that spans the entire history of Marvel comics, characters like the Human Torch, Spider-Man, the Avengers, and the Guardians of the Galaxy show their historical origins. If you have a fan who’s waiting impatiently for the next MCU offering, this collection of some of Marvel’s defining comics from the company’s history may be just what they need to tide them over.

Buy Marvel Greatest Comics: 100 Comics that Built a Universe

Star Daughter by Shveta Thakrar

For lovers of mythology and fairy tales.

Billed as Neil Gaiman’s Stardust meets Hindi mythology, this debut novel centers on the daughter of a star and a mortal. Sheetal tries to be normal, but when her starfire accidentally hurts her mortal father, she must travel to the celestial court in order to save him. The combination of court intrigue, mythology, and a fairy-tale like tone is perfect for YA lovers.

Buy Star Daughter by Shveta Thakrar

Emerald Blaze by Ilona Andrews

For the romantic who needs a great stocking stuffer.

Although better known for the popular Kate Daniels series, the Ilona Andrews team (husband and wife Ilona and Gordon) has knocked it out of the park with the most recent installment in their “Hidden Legacy” series. There are now five novels and a novella in the series, with Emerald Blaze as the second book of a second arc, but while the book is most likely to resonate with readers already introduced to the character, it’s also a stand-alone magic-spy-action-adventure-romance. Despite that blend of genres, Team Andrews melds it all together in a world with both super cool magic and an alternate-reality Instagram, featuring characters you want to hang out with regardless of the stakes. The mass-market size also makes it perfect to slip into a stocking!

Buy Emerald Blaze by Ilona Andrews

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