#sorry for rambling its just something ive always noted for years now. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pennydontwannabeahero · 1 year

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Just a Hero, 4 years of work and an teaser of its opening

Pre ramble, I've been working on a world to set my stories in for about 4 years now, in that time ive done alot of details that im slowly noting down, ive made literal hundreds of characters many of them background with to much detail, and during it all ive also been planning a bunch of diffrent stories, and recently ive even started writing the first of them, im about 10 pages of a likely 50+ down, but due to a lacking social media presence ive not been able to get others thoughts on the story, so having recently made tumbler i figured i should try sharing it on here and seeing if i can acctual build a following for it, thank you to anyone who interacts with this cause its a big ass project and i want to go beyond just something ive written, even if its just a couple people. Ramble over and quick warning the story is written with a target age of 16 to 18+, its got swearing, light nudity, sex reference, substance abuse, violence, mild gore, and honestly alot of other stuff im probobly forgetting, theres little to none of these in the following excerpt just its worth giving for future warning beyond this is the opening to Just A Hero, thanks again to anyone that reads and im sorry for any formatting or spelling issues its copy pasted off the google doc i write it in

The world of Astera has many stories. Some about monsters, Some about gods, Some about kings, Some about villains and some about heroes and this one is about a hero, Technically.

The great steam city of Hektalia floating above the Eidelon plains was often noted for its mighty steam and clockwork machines, It was also known for legendary adventurers dressed in fine clothes and augmented with polished brass prosthetics and intricate transforming weapons. However there was something far more infamous from Hektalia. Its thieves and on this night through clear skies one runs down a street chased by a middle aged gentleman. Darting between the crowds of reveling drunkards a small girl no older than 6, She has short messy black hair with red highlights and atop her head a pair of fox ears as opposed to normal human ones, She wears a tattered black dress with some red adornments and from her lower hip comes four black fox tails, Her left forearm is in a badly made cast and sling, Her boots are light, Dirty and damp from where she ran through puddles, Across her shoulder a worn strap that leads to a satchel that klinks slightly from the objects inside it. From behind her shouts a commanding voice.

“STOP THIEF, PICKPOCKET.” The drunks don’t do much despite the shouts though a few accidentally get in the way of the gentleman bumping into him and breaking his line of sight of the girl. As it was with Hektalia if something was stolen no one much cared who owned it, Just who was more skilled in keeping it and to drunkards in this part of town a rich man didn’t need to keep it, After all he could always buy more.

Despite that the chase continued into back alleys away from the lights of the street, Small vents of steam make the ground damp and humid and tricky to see. The girl slips around corners doing her best to lose her pursuer. She ducks around one last corner into a dead end but with no sign of the man behind her she takes a breath and leans against the wall opening her stachel to examine what she stole. A wallet containing a few hundred shards, An ID card that she tossed away, A worn photo of what seemed to be the owner's family that she tossed onto the floor and ground into the dirt with her heel while scowling and a VIP card for the Hektalian servants market this too she tossed away. On top of the shards the wallet made of fine Astilian leather would sell for a couple hundred more enough to buy one of the nice burgers from the Byzantium style diner in the entertainment district. She put the wallet back in her satchel and pulled out the rest of her loot, A ring made of silver with a flawless ruby encrusted into it. This she slipped onto her finger despite its value. She liked red things and preferred to keep them. Lastly was the watch a golden and brass master work, The skeletal design showed the beauty of the clockwork that ticked and tocked in an almost relaxing way tracking the seconds that were passing in an ever moving world. Such things sold for a good number of shards, This one though seemed special the girl observed that it only tracked seconds not minutes or hours nor days or months just seconds ever passing. Her head tilted to stare deep into the clockwork distracted by the beautiful metal that reflected her red and light blue heterochromic eyes .

“Ah found you, You little thief.” The voice of the man she had stolen from who was now standing in the entrance to the alley. The girl almost jumped while tightening her grip on the watch before thrusting it back into her satchel and backing off deeper into the dead end.

“There’s no running any more you little brat, Give me back my things and I won’t call the police.” He held his hand out while looking down at her. In a gut reaction she tightened her grip on her satchel. She had defended her prize before but only against other children, Never an adult.

The man’s eyes locked with her own and he offered a soft false smile.

“You can keep the cheap jewelry and money, Just give me back my watch and I’ll let you go.” His voice was far softer now and the girl recognised the trick. Other adults had tried it to sound soft to make her feel safer than she was. She glanced around and saw an external staircase on the side of one of the buildings. Far too high up to reach for most people but she had a plan.

“Fine.” She looked down at the floor as she walked forwards slowly. Reaching into her satchel she pulled the watch out holding it tight in her fist.

“Stupid kid.” The man lunged for her and she swung her arm partly opening her hand to toss the dirt she had taken from her satchel into his eyes while dodging to the side. In the same motion as he fell to the floor she jumped up onto his back and from there with a deep breath she leaped up to the staircase jumping much higher than a normal person. She had always had an easy time jumping and leaping, Even falling as she didn’t feel the impact, Always landing softly no matter what, Though she never knew why it was a very useful ability.

“Damn it where did you go you little shit?” The man rubbed the dirt out of his eyes and looked around, Unable to spot her.

“I’m up here dummy!” The girl waved down as she danced around on the steps giggling at him.

“When I catch you I’m going to wring your dirty little neck, You filthy little piece of vermin waste.” He growled at her and began to run around to the entrance of the building.

“Good luck with that, Run run run as fast as you can old man, I may not be made of gingerbread but you’ll never catch me.” She called out as she leapt from rooftop to rooftop running along the rooves before jumping back down into the street and climbing through a window into the orphanage she called home.

“Been sneaking out again have you? You know if you keep doing silly things your arm is never going to heal.” The voice of a young woman was a comforting thing for her. The assistant matron, A nice lady who did her best to look after all the children there.

#writers #women writers #female writers #writers on tumblr #creative writing #origonal work #original character #fmlispent4yearsdesigningaworldandcharacters #amature writer

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gwaaaaar · 1 year

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I posted 5,713 times in 2022

102 posts created (2%)

5,611 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@choco-myth

@beth-bethar00

@boronal

@willowfoxthefox

sean-gaffney

I tagged 441 of my posts in 2022

#mazm - 31 posts

#vatican miracle examiner - 20 posts

#vatican kiseki chousakan - 16 posts

#mazm thy creature - 12 posts

#identity v - 11 posts

#mazm hyde and seek - 9 posts

#mazm phantom of the opera - 7 posts

#baccano! - 7 posts

#baccano - 7 posts

#ganji gupta - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#reminds me of that one meme you made where its like this edible aint shit and its a pic of light music club cater saying i always wanted to

My Top Posts in 2022:

Ok hear me out, Ganji and Mike accidentally crash into each other during a match or something and they drop their Red balls. They scramble to pick what they assume are their own items but we cut to Mike trying to flip over a rail and the ball bounces back and hits him square in the face, he's out like a light. Now zooming over to ganji he's taking aim then BOOM! his bats on fire, Ganji is now chasing the hunter with a flaming glorified stick,ganji is now banned from Duos

Holy shit yes oh my god 😭😭😭😭. Clusmy anime girls with toast in their mouth except, threats to the hunter that dropped their balls.

30 notes - Posted February 15, 2022

Raoul de Chagny (Mazm one maybe idk) is such a sigma male but also an L bozo. Mans literally cannot get manipulated by erik bc hes too stupid but at the same time he goes into eriks box to assert dominance only to pass out like an idiot. And the scene in the forest where he HAD A CELAR SHOT AT ERIK AND MISSED. L bozo.

32 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

Having finished Hyde and Seek like 3 days after release here are some of my thoughts. There's gonna be some stuff implied so read with caution, i wont say outright but ill talk abt the implications. Sorry most of this is Alan rambling I have brainworms and I'm ill.

-Alan is literally my malewife. Love at first sight, if Noah is my little meanwhore Alan is my malewife. I love their big boobs.

-Pollie>Sally. My heart dropped when Alan tried to ask Sally out like out of all people, Sally? Good news though hes single by the end.

-Pollie is literally that one tumblr post where its like let women be pathetic little meow meows too. She is the definition of a pathetic meow meow and i love her for that.

See the full post

45 notes - Posted March 13, 2022

LOLIROCK IS OUT FOR MY BLOOD WHY DID THEY GIVE HIM M SHAPED LIPS WHY WOULD THEY DO THIS THEY DID THIS ON PURPOSE HWGWJAGEJAHEHNSGEJSJSGZ

93 notes - Posted May 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Alright so ive been seeing this going around, the lack of paint on Sam in ENG . I dont want to start shit though, im saying this as a disclaimer. And i want to say this as controversial as it may be: it was for the best probably.

Voodoo has a history of being portrayed as dark magic which is horrible. Voodoo is a religion not satanic not dark magic. It is as much of a religon as Islam, Christianity, Hinduism, Judaism, etc. Respect it. I like the bone paint too, it looked cool, but clearly its more cultural appropriation rather than appreciation on Sam (voodoo practicers if you can please tell me if ive said something wrong).

"Cancel culture" isnt just an "sjw" thing, its used to talk about problems. Saying "twst shouldve just stayed in jp" bc of the problematic aspect isnt good. We have to address problematic issues with culture and racism. Twst has racist aspects you cannot deny that. It doesnt mean you cant enjoy twst at all, but stay openminded and listen to minorities when they speak. Cultures arent "aesthetics" :/

284 notes - Posted January 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

welp, isnt that a doozy

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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caramellody · 3 years

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A LOT of us (myself included) have fallen down the pit of parasocial relationships. yes, its nice to like a creator or celebrity but please please please monitor yourselves.

#self monitoring has done wonders for me #and like. its not fool proof either. but it still is a great help #i have. a lottle bit too much experience sonce literally yt/lp channels were like. my main fandoms since i was at least 11 or 12 #nowadays i still follow many of these channels but i always make sure to check myself #parasocial relationships. at least for me have always been subtle for me #and thats not to say people shouldnt be feeling things. bc thats okay too #the rh stuff comes to mind mostly as someone who followed his stuff for YEARS #and it hurt. it hurt and people (close coworkers obviously but fans as well to an extent) should have the right to feel hurt or betrayed #the PROBLEM comes when you decide to implement black and white Morality to it and be like one man failed me all men are gonna fail me #or on the other end: try to delude yourself into thinking that the controversies or issues arent real and devaluing ACTUAL serious events #thats when the fan side of the parasocial relationship is at its worst #sorry for rambling its just something ive always noted for years now.#val rambles

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bleutectic · 5 years

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gosh i really fucking wish i didnt care so much what other people think

#in todays episode of ‘nathalie rants and hopes people will give her attention bc if it’: why the fuck does my art suck #also why am i so focussed on numbers #i love art and drawing and painting but i just really fucking wish people would actually see it and tell me they liked it or something #ive been stuck just below 200 on my art ig for over a week now and its SO frustrating oh my god #also my art never gets any fucking notes on tumblr #and i know i complain about this a lot but its just so frustrating to me #you see all this lovely art gettig 100s of notes on tumblr meanwhile my art struggles to get 30 notes from which 3 are self reblogs #and its like ? what am i doing different? what is it that im doing that is just going completely fucking wrong #why do all these amazing artists get 100s of notes and i stuggle yo get 30 #no matter how much i practice of how much time i spend on a drawing or whatever it just always fucking flops #and dont even come at me telling me to stop complaining bc getting notes isnt why i should be drawing in the first place #bc if i did that i wouldve stopped drawing a year ago after my first digital painting flopped #its like. i love drawing and i love what i create (sometimes) and i just really fucking want other people to also feel that love for it #but no one fucking does bc ig i do something wrong in art and im #all stuck up on numbers anyways so waht does it matter right #im just rambling at this point sorry #theres too much on my mind and idk what to do about it #im oversharing already anyways and i doubt anyone is reading this far SO LETS discuss that as well right why the fuck not #whats on my mind: christmas time sucks. im working too much and the day i get off im forced to see family and act fancy even though all i #wanna do is sleep. too much school work. my specialisation is nearly ending and i suddenly have a bunch of deadlines and exams and i worry i #cant do any of it bc im CONSTANTLY WORKING. next to my specialisation being a big burden i also still havent found an internship which im #supposed to be starting in a little over a month. chances are i wont find one and ill waste half a year of my life and 2k #then theres the thing of ‘what is my mental health doing’ where im proper confused as to whats going on in my head but im too chicken to see #a doctor about it. and to top it all of theres the lovely sexuality crisis constantly in the back of my mind. who am i attracted to? am i #even attracted to people at all? am i actually ace/aro or do i really just have to ‘meet the right person’ who the fuck knows? not me #well thats it. the end. im gonna go back to my deadline stress bye #nathalie rants

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reidsnose · 3 years

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love letters

overview: spencer has a wonderful idea after finding out that reader had never gone to her senior prom

genre: fluff fluff fluff

a/n: i mixed two ideas that have been sitting in my notes app for this lol but i think its sweet!! i wrote it a little rushed and definitely not bc im not getting a prom this year due to miss rona👀 LMAO but as always please lmk what yall think ab it :)

masterlist

the idea had fully occupied his thoughts the second after the words left your mouth.

it was "the buttcrack of dawn" as you had called it, though spirits were high on the late jet ride home. it was a rare but much needed positive end to the case, and everyone was happily chatting with each other. since the case was involving high schoolers, the subject fell on prom. everyone went around sharing their prom stories one by one, recalling awful dresses and questionable dates til the questions turned to spencer.

"what ab you, pretty boy, what was your prom like?" morgan asked, still smiling widely from recalling his own.

you watched spencer shift uncomfortably for a second.

"i uh..i never went to prom." he stammered, a tight lipped smile on his face.

"no! you just dont wanna tell us!" prentiss cried, throwing her hands in the air.

"i graduated high school when i was 12! why would i have gone to prom?" he reasoned.

"you had to have gone when you were older or something! everyone has!" jj countered.

"thats not true, i never went to prom either," you defended, subconsciously inching closer to spencer.

before anyone could even ask you to explain why, spencer got the idea. he mentally left the conversation after you gave your answer. he spent the whole rest of the ride home and the next couple of weeks brain storming and planning.

and casually after work one day, as he was walking you to your car, he asked you if you wanted to hang out with him that weekend; at his house.

you and Spencer had hung out before, but mostly at your house or at coffee shops; he didn't invite people over very often.

of course you agreed but you grew confused when he told you to dress fancy.

you raced home afterwards to raid your closet, looking for any fancy dresses you may have stuffed in there.

spencer spent the whole day preparing his apartment. he put up streamers and balloons. he made a playlist of all your favorite songs. and then he rushed to get his clothes from the cleaners.

and when you knocked at his door the breath that left your lungs struggled to come back after he opened the door.

he stood in a gorgeous suit, different than he had ever worn to work. he rubbed the back of his neck and gestured to the living room, revealing the adorable (albeit poorly made but its the thought that counts) decorations.

"um.. welcome to prom," he said, turning back to you, revealing a blushy smile.

he tried not to stare too much at you, but it was difficult. your eyes sparkled as you stepped inside and looked around. and the dress you were wearing fit you so gorgeously he truly couldnt take his eyes off of you.

"spencer, i..." you trailed off, enchanted by what he had done.

"sorry if it looks bad. or if you think its weird that i did this. i just thought cause neither of us went to prom maybe you wanted to have a little one with me? yeah now that i say it out loud maybe you hate it im sorr-" he rambled behind you.

you turned quickly to him as he got lost in his words, eyes glued to the floor. cutting him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him as tight as you could. you could feel the tension leave his body as he melted into the embrace, returning it gladly. he doesn't like to be touched by anyone really, except for you.

"i love it. thank you," you whispered, giving him one last squeeze before letting go.

he has a spread of snacks lying out on the coffee table which he has mooved to the corner of the room to make space for a makeshift dancefloor.

he turns on the music and you two start talking and dancing and laughing. two fools with four left feet completely and obliviously in love. well, oblivious the the other anyway.

a slower song came on, an old one that you had wanted to slow dance to ever since you were a little girl. and somehow naturally you two came together, his hand dropped to your waist, the other delicately cradling your own. your other hand found its way up to his shoulder, feeling as though a magnet was pulling you two closer. and closer.

he looked absolutely stunning. the soft lights he had strung around the apartment sparkled like stars in his eyes; its was...dizzying, in the most incredible way.

unbeknownst to you, as you stared at the stars in his eyes he was looking at his whole world that he had been somehow lucky enough to hold in his arms.

he held his arm out, allowing you to spin and when he pulled you back both of your arms ended up wrapped around his neck, and his around your waist. you were less dancing now and more...hugging. with your head pressed to his chest, he hoped with all his might that you wouldn't be able to hear his hammering heart. you most definitely could, but it was calming to know he was as nervous as you were. you smiled, listening more to his heart than the music he had played for you.

you were both sure that you could burst from pure bliss. the song ended a little too quickly for either of your liking and reluctantly you let go of each other. and suddenly Spencer was hit with the realization that he forgot something.

"oh my gosh," his eyes widened as he looked around the room.

"what?" you asked, mirroring him and looking as well.

"i can't remember where i left your corsage! i was gonna give it to you at the door but i forgot!" he exclaimed, running around the room checking shelves.

you smiled to yourself. he got you a corsage!

"ill help you look" you decided.

"please do," he chuckled.

"i thought you had an eidetic memory, shouldn't you know where you left it?" you joked, shooting him a smug smile.

"y/n, my brain was all jumbled to day and it wasn't just from being around you," he realized what he had said and quickly turned back to the shelf he was looking at, "could you check in my room please?"

his heart was racing at his own stupidity; how could he just say that so nonchalantly? he had been planning to tell you that he liked you for the longest time he cant afford slipping up and having it be anything less than perfect.

you slipped into his room, your cheeks warm from the idea that you make his big brain all jumbled. he probably didn't mean it like that, you were just looking too much into it.

you sighed as you crouched to look under his bed for it. you found a small wooden box that you slid out from underneath. it had your name on it.

is it normal to keep a corsage in a wooden box? you wouldn't know, you never went to prom.

you shrugged your shoulders, "i found it spence!"

with out thinking you opened the box, except instead of a band of flowers you were greeted with letters, all addressed to you. there were annotations written in the margins with purple ink. you furrowed your eyebrows as you scanned the various letters.

dear y/n,

today you complimented my glasses and my heart skipped a beat. thats dumb spencer dont start like that

dear y/n,

im in love with you. too forward

dear y/n,

you make life worth living. shes gonna think youre a creep

you felt a rush of euphoria fill your chest. did he really feel these things for you? your thoughts swirled in the most wonderful way. a wide smile broke across your face, butterflies running rampage through your stomach as you reread his words. his words addressed to you.

"oh thank God i really thought i lost-oh. oh no." spencer started as he walked through the door of his room immediately walking back out. you followed, blinking your watery eyes at him. "i can explain.

"i think youve explained enough, theres like 20 letters in here!" you chuckled, flipping through them.

"i didnt know how to tell you and i dont want to ruin what we already have and i-"

"it wasnt too forward." you stated, grabbing one of the letters.

"what?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"in this one," you held up the letter, "you wrote dear y/n, im in love with you. and then you crossed it out and wrote that it was too forward but i dont think it was."

"youre not mad?"

"mad? spencer ive been trying to admit the fact that im in love with you since i realized it myself, why would i be mad?"

"youre..you feel the same way?" he looked back up at you, a hesitant smile pulling on the corners of his lips.

"more so," you beamed, stepping closer.

he wrapped his arms around you, "thats good or else the rest of this prom would have sucked."

you chuckled, pulling him impossibly closer to you as another perfect song played.

ultra mega super cool taglist

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc @sydnee-kom-spacekru @sydneekomspacekru

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pinoy-culture · 3 years

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before I ask my question, I just wanted to say thank you so so so much for keeping up your blog and consistently giving out information where its readily accessible!!!

maybe this will make me sound like an idiot but to preface, I’m a mixed filipino american. My mom is filipino and some chinese and my dad is some sort of european and puerto rican. i was wondering, in your opinion, do you think it’d be okay for me (eventually) work with diwata and anitos? And how can I start? Ive been trying to communicate with my ancestors and I’ve been looking for books to one day buy (im extremely broke so your blog and any filipino witches i come across is all the info i can get) but i honestly have no clue where to start other than with my ancestors (weird dreams lately but nothing ancestor related i think). i took a DNA test as a gift and it pointed, predominantly, to the Western Visayas so im assuming i should study more on pre-colonial Bisayan culture (my lolas from iloilo so it makes sense i guess) but i also know that “blood quantum” is a colonizer concept so i dont wanna rely on it too much :/ sorry to ramble but pls help lol

First, I'd like to say thank you for following the blog! It really does mean a lot to me to hear from others over the years on how much my blogs have helped them learn about our history and culture.

Now as for working with our diwata and the anito, that is completely ok. The whole blood quantum thing among some Filipinos I honestly don't agree with. As long as you have a family member who is Filipino, you are Filipino regardless of your "percentage" and of how you look. If you have Filipino blood in you, the ancestors are there with you. Even if you weren't raised within Filipino culture or a Filipino household because your parents never brought you up in it, or you are an adoptee like some I've met over the years. Your ancestors are your ancestors regardless. They see you and know you and that is all that matters.

Now there really isn't any book focused specifically on reviving our precolonial beliefs and practices. Yes, some did survive and some even blended in with a form of Folk Christianity in the Philippines. You can see many of the older practices and beliefs still alive, but they have been replaced with Catholic imagery and Saints.

But, in regards actually believing in and worshiping our old deities, doing rituals dedicated to the deity, or even some rites of passage like the Tagalog first menstruation rite of passage, or making carved figures dedicated to the diwata and anito, or performing maganito/paganito or atang to the diwata and anito, majority of Filipinos don't do this, or even know it.

So for being an Anito Reconstructionist, which is a label I personally use for my spiritual beliefs and others have adopted, there really isn't a book for it. A Reconstructionist in other ethnic spiritual paths, such as the Celtic, Roman, Aztec, Kemetic, Greek, Norse, etc., are those who look at historical records to try and piece together what was once practiced and believed in prior to Christianity. Over many years, these different spiritual paths have eventually come together, formed a community, and have resources like books and teachers. They have had the time to do all the research and put together a more formal spirituality based on those Pre-Christian beliefs and bringing it to the modern day where they have hundreds to thousands of people who have gone back to those beliefs. With some, they have even created temples, shrines to their deities, and even have celebrations.

Unfortunately that is not the case for us. However, due to the growing interest in our precolonial beliefs and practices over the years, I can see Anito Reconstructionism growing within the next several years. It already has, with many people actually trying to learn more about these beliefs and our old deities. The amount of people of people I've seen and talked to who have expressed their interest to reclaim these precolonial beliefs and practices is nothing compared to 10 years ago when it was hard to even find one or two people who did.

It is why I've been writing this book for a few years now dedicated to helping others in wanting to reclaim our precolonial beliefs and practices as a starting point in their research. For now though, I always recommend those who are starting to simply just read the historical texts. Grab a notebook and write down notes. Organize your notes into deities, rituals, how to make an offering, any prayers to a specific deity, how to set up an altar, etc.

Seeing as your family is from the island of Panay in the Western Bisayas, like my moms side are from, I would start with looking at the Bisayan precolonial beliefs and practices. A really good reference is reading Francisco Alcina's History of the Bisayans (1668). Volume 3 is available online in English which you can find here. Volume 3 goes into a lot of detail in the beliefs and practices. The Boxer Codex, if you are able to get a copy of the English translation, is also really good reading material.

Getting Started:

In terms of getting started, keep in mind that there is no one monolithic belief system or practice in the Philippines. Before there ever was a Philippines, we were different nations with different beliefs and practices. It is important to know your ethnic groups beliefs and practices and know their history. For example, I am Bisaya (Akeanon specifically) and Tagalog and that is what I work with. Others who I know follow the Bikolano, Kapampangan, or Ilokano beliefs. Though there are some similarities, each ethnic group had their own set beliefs and practices.

I often tell people that you can't just mix and match between them. For example, though I work with both the Tagalog and Bisayan pantheons, I wouldn't dare do a ritual offering to both a Tagalog or Bisayan deity at the same time. It's always separate. You also can't combine 2 similar deities together from different ethnic groups just because they share similar attributes. It's just rude and disrespectful.

Start out small. Set up an altar dedicated to your ancestors. If you have any family members who have passed, put a photo of them on the altar. Leave offerings of rice cakes such as suman, food like chicken adobo, or even a cup of drink such as tuba, lambanog, or even Red Horse beer. But if you can't get access to an alcoholic drink either because one you are a minor or 2 it's not available where you live, you can simply replace it with a non-alcoholic drinks like coconut juice. Get a coconut shell or a seashell to either place these offerings as bowls/plates or even use them to put your kamangyan or incense.

Then start researching how our Bisayan ancestors worshiped and practiced. Study the history and read historical accounts, books, and articles about them. Write down what you have learned on these precolonial beliefs and practices and reconstruct or revive them. This is what Polytheistic Recinstructionists do. I have listed links to these texts here.

Ask questions to your family, particularly your elders. See if they know of anything or if they can share some traditional practices and beliefs they know of have heard of. You would be surprised how, despite some families being really religious, many still believe in the spirits, do some form of ancestor veneration, believe in omens that are being told to you by the ancestors or spirits, etc.

If you can, try to go back to the Philippines and see your family's ancestral home, see where they grew up, etc. Ask about family stories and folk stories. For example, my mom grew up in Aklan and has always told me stories of the aswang and certain omens. She also constantly talks about the mischievous "little people" who play tricks on you (for example putting something down like your keys and then it goes missing, until you find it again somewhere else). In the Western Bisayas, they are known as kama-kama. There is also a story of how her grandmother's cat visited her during her wake. The cat was missing for years, but it came back and stayed sleeping on top of the casket for days before it left. My mom told me that it was the cat paying their respects to her grandmother.

Keep in mind also and acknowledge our indigenous communities who have kept their beliefs and practices. Don't try to take them into your own. I have seen people cherry pick things from the Manobo of Mindanao or the Kalinga in the Cordillera, which is just disrespectful. Many of the IP, though some still have kept their beliefs, it isn't the most important aspect to them. What they are most concerned about are other issues such as losing their homes due to occupation by oil or logging companies, other settlers such as the Tagalog and Bisayans (especially in Mindanao), getting targeted as "rebels" by the Philippine military and often getting killed. But, by cherry picking beliefs especially of the IP groups, it's just disrespectful.

I will be teaching classes on Anito Reconstructionism soon and will have my first class possibly at the end of the month or next month. I decided to do these classes seeing as there is a growing community who are interested, but don't know where to start. I'll be doing a proper announcement on these classes real soon so look out for the announcement and hopefully you will be able to join!

#filipino #diwata #anito #anito reconstructionist #polytheist #polytheism #precolonial philippines #faq #question #long post

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morkofday · 3 years

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#10YearPromise - pingxie blabberings

bc i wasn’t able to answer these questions throughout the week (as i’ve been traveling around while being extremely busy), i decided to just collect all of my answers under one post! i never tire talking about pingxie so this was extremely enjoyable ♥ am also practicing some very shameless self promo in this so be prepared!

thank you for @laireshi for organizing this event (i take it’s you alone? am not sure, sorry for my laziness) and being amazing in general ^^ i won’t be able to join as i am still very busy and summer is always pure chaos for me, so i can only hope that other ppl have fun! if you are not aware of 10 Year Promise Pingxie Exchange, you can find the original announcement post here. join in if you have the time and inspiration ^^

and then to my answers which i will be placing under the cut bc i don’t want to flood anyone’s dash with me going bonkers over these two idiots. enjoy tho if you decide to read this :’D ♥

I. What made you ship pingxie?

Back when I got into Reboot bc of ZYL (as has happened to many ppl probably) and then saw stuff about pingxie once I started going through that drama’s tag on tumblr, my first thought about them was that they had to be a crack ship. The way Reboot portrays them as well as their actors and their huuuge age difference affected this a lot, and I was actually cackling at them bc all their moments in Reboot made me just go “oh, socialist brotherhood at its best” in my head. But then I finished watching Reboot’s 1st season (as the 2nd one wasn’t out yet) and started reading some fics. I learned more about them and the canon storyline. I learned how damn devoted they are to each other, and after that, many moments in Reboot gained new meaning in my eyes. So, I think what made me ship pingxie was a mix of Reboot (especially the hallucination moment where Xiaoge dies and Wu Xie loses it bc that’s my jam as I later on became to notice) and then the amazing fics I dug out during that time. After that the love grew stronger as I watched the other dramas, and these days I’m a lost cause. I feel like I spend most of my awake time thinking about these two and their love. They are amazing. I cry rivers for them.

II. Which pingxie version is your favorite?

After finding pingxie, I fell in love with them properly during TLT2. There is just something about that stage of their relationship for me, the stage where both of them are still very tentative about everything but they have deep down accepted that they’re tied now. Wu Xie is figuring out so many things, coming to terms with being betrayed by his uncle and slowly realizing that something bigger is going on behind the scenes. Meanwhile, Xiaoge is learning how to trust Wu Xie and how to accept that he cannot leave this naïve boy behind. It feels very fragile, and I have so many emotions about TLT2 bc of this. Xiaoge is so soft and feels very multilayered. Wu Xie is still his naïve self but is slowly gaining some sharper edges as he comes to face the cruel world. I like how Cheng Yi and Hou Minghao have portrayed this dynamic. Also, TLT2 is just very extra with all the pingxie scenes, who would be able to resist loving them? So, I have to admit that my favorite pingxie is these two, tho Ultimate Note comes very, very close.

III. What’s your favorite pingxie headcanon?

Headcanons are a bit hard for me as I don’t know enough of the canon. I have not read the novels so most of the story I’ve just patched together from all the bits I’ve read from somewhere (here, on twt, in fics) and through the scenes the dramas have shown me. I feel like the whole world is lowkey made of headcanons for me :’D But hmm, my favorite pingxie headcanon… I’d say there are two and then one bonus bc it’s more a Wu Xie related headcanon than just pingxie. The first one is that the pingxie confession happens after the Bronze Gate. It feels like the only moment when they’re both ready for such a thing. I’d say Xiaoge comes to realize his own feelings a lot earlier and he might tell something to unconscious Wu Xie before leaving for ten years, but he will not actually leave Wu Xie with such a burden. He doesn’t want to ask anything when it sounds like he doesn’t even believe that Wu Xie will be willing to wait for him, and I’d say that for him, his feelings are going to be fine even if Wu Xie never learns about them. He might even wish that Wu Xie never learns about them bc he’s not able to promise much as an immortal and amnesiac being (he outlives Wu Xie, most likely forgets him). For Wu Xie however, I’d say he needs time. He really is way too naïve and I’d say that he needs those ten years to realize that he’s in love with his best friend. I dunno who confesses first after Xiaoge returns but I think that only after that decade their relationship is “mature” enough to hold the weight of a confession (even if I also love to play around with the thought of them getting together during the events of Ultimate Note bc that drama offered many good chances for that). Another headcanon for me is that Xiaoge will find a way to die when Wu Xie does. After learning about them more, I feel like Reboot implies this too. Xiaoge is very accepting of Wu Xie’s death but in the last moments, when he really thinks that this is going to be it for Wu Xie, he hesitates. We see a spark of desperation there, and I’ve come to think that his initial plan, the plan he came up with once he got that call from Wu Xie and knew he would join Wu Xie on his last adventure, was to see this through for Wu Xie’s sake and then leave and die alone. I don’t know how much there would be left for Zhang Qiling after Wu Xie is gone. I feel like this is also what Wu Xie fears. But would he really resent Xiaoge for joining him in death after living such a long and hard life? I’d say no and I’d say that even Pangzi accepts this as one of the most likely outcomes. The bonus one then feels very personal to me. I don’t usually talk about this bc I feel so unsure of even mentioning this but I’ve seen others with similar thoughts so am sharing! I’ve never before gotten any vibes about a character’s sexuality in a drama I’ve watched but Reboot Wu Xie looked at me once in the eye and all I could hear was my brain yelling “asexual”. So, that is just my personal headcanon for Wu Xie. He’s ace and proud of it. He can flirt etc. but sex makes him go naah. He doesn’t need it or want it. He can appreciate beauty and hot ppl without wanting to sleep with them and I think his relationship with Xiaoge fits very well into this. I don’t have any personal experiences with being ace but I feel like Wu Xie has read the name once, shrugged and gone, “guess that’s me” and continued on with his life. He’s badass like that and I love him for it. (take a very relevant meme lol from this post)

IV. What’s the ideal pingxie date?

Ah, christ. I dunno if I’ve ever thought about them going on a date? In the middle of tomb raiding, hospital trips and fighting against powers bigger than themselves, I’ve rarely seen any time for them to do something like that lol. But after Ultimate Note, I’ve thought about star gazing a lot. Just them, the infinite night sky and some lonely hilltop. They would probably take a blanket with them, huddle together and talk about things in hushed voices. Wu Xie would go on a ramble about all the constellations and their meanings and mythology behind them and Xiaoge would just nod at him and watch Wu Xie talking. Maybe he would offer some tidbits in the middle of the rambling, making Wu Xie smile brightly. It would be relaxing and comfortable and loving. They would make out a lil bit. Would maybe lie down and play with each other’s hair. All their worries would feel insignificant. Wu Xie would fall asleep for a moment and Xiaoge would wake him up with a kiss to get him moving again so that they don’t need to sleep on the cold ground. They would return home and drink something warm and then go to sleep, cuddled together and happy. relevant edit x

V. What’s your favorite pingxie getting together scenario?

I guess I already talked about this a bit but let me elaborate then! As said, I’d see it happening after the Bronze Gate. I am not sure if it would be right away (they’re both going through so much trauma at that point) or if it would happen after Reboot (maybe we would still need Wu Xie almost dying for them to get their shit together), but I’d say it happens in a rush either way. It’s one of those “I have to tell you something before it’s too late” -type of moments. Or one of those “Bc I love you, you idiot!” -type of moments. I feel like I keep thinking that maybe Wu Xie would have to confess first bc as said, Xiaoge wouldn’t like to burden Wu Xie with his feelings when there’s so little he can give in the sense of normalcy. But then again, I have written a oneshot where Xiaoge is the first one to confess and that always feels better for me. That at some point Xiaoge feels secure enough to tell Wu Xie about his own feelings. That he feels confident and comfortable enough to say it out loud while still expecting nothing in return bc he knows that Wu Xie won’t abandon him either way. But no matter how that happens, I always see it as this dam breaking. The emotions finally become too strong. Something happens that reminds them that life is too short. Something happens that makes them finally talk it out and ah, Pangzi can finally take a break, what a joy

VI. What’s your favorite pingxie moment?

Every adaptation has its own good moments so let me make a list (like I saw someone else do too):

The Lost Tomb:

Xiaoge rescues Wu Xie from the shibie

Wu Xie worrying over unconscious Xiaoge plus taking care of him in the hotel room

The Pingxie MomentTM aka Xiaoge saving Wu Xie from falling and then cradling the boy to his chest while thumb rubbing his shoulder

The Lost Tomb 2:

Xiaoge revealed to be Baldie and Wu Xie yelling at him about it

Lowkey the whole underwater tomb arc bc holy shit that’s gay

Wu Xie losing it when Xiaoge doesn’t come up from the underwater tomb, diving after him and then almost dying himself + Pangzi getting angry at him for being stupid

pingxie ft. magical skype in the bronze tree cave (and Xiaoge being emo about the 1000yo warrior guy right before that)

Xiaoge rescuing Wu Xie from drowning (they shared air, you cannot convince me otherwise) + Wu Xie giving Xiaoge his watch in the hospital (relevant edits x x)

Wu Xie’s face when he sees Zhang Buxun in the coffin bc I love pain :)

Xiaoge not shooting Wu Xie despite not remembering him in the mountain village

Wu Xie grabbing Xiaoge’s jacket after being kidnapped and the Iron Triangle reunites in that old Chen guy’s cabin, asking, “Is that you?” from Xiaoge to make sure that he remembers again while looking like the biggest puppy (relevant edit x)

also some relevant memes x

Ultimate Note:

The hand over mouth reunion in the Golmud Sanatorium

“Xiaoge will ignore anyone else but you”

Xiaoge pretending he isn’t Losing ItTM throughout the whole time Wu Xie is in the Devil’s City with A-Ning

more hand over mouth with the gigantic snake

“The goddess has ascended”

Wu Xie protecting Xiaoge after he returns from the jade meteorite

“Do you remember me?” “Wu Xie.”

Wu Xie promising to help Xiaoge find his memories no matter what bc Xiaoge’s business is Wu Xie’s business

“Maybe you can return home with a wife today.” Wu Xie: proceeds to stare at Xiaoge, horrified

“Take me home.”

The sword gifting scene (especially Xiaoge denying the possibility of him killing Wu Xie or them harming each other, relevant edits x x)

other relevant edits for ultimate note x x

Reboot:

Wu Xie telling Xiaoge about his sickness and then Xiaoge coming back and promising to join Wu Xie on his trip (relevant edit x)

the death hallucination bc am a masochist

Wu Xie’s death dream where Xiaoge calls to him but then accepts his choice to move forward bc am a masochist pt. 2

pingxie reunion in the Thunder City forest where Xiaoge saves Wu Xie & co. from the poisonous gas

the moment in Thunder City where Wu Xie sits outside at night, eating the peanuts Pangzi gave him and then notices Xiaoge, offering him the peanuts and smiling

when Xiaoge leaves for the last time and then gets reunited with healed Wu Xie against all odds

the train scene and their softest smiles to each other

Time Raiders:

Wu Xie being the best bean and just wanting to befriend this mysterious man while seeing right under his skin and making Xiaoge baffled and fall in love in approximately 0.5 seconds

Xiaoge, catch! *proceeds to save only Wu Xie when they fall into that shibie horror chamber*

Xiaoge’s desperation to save Wu Xie from the crumbling ground

their death waltz at the end of the movie plus Xiaoge’s sacrifice

+ Sand Sea:

“Don’t you dare call him Xiaoge!”

Wu Xie offering his friends and then himself as comfort to Li Cu when he’s scared while smiling very softly at the memory of Xiaoge

“But isn’t his surname Wu?” Hei Xiazi: You have seen nothing yet, you sweet summer child

Wu Xie talking about Xiaoge’s past in the temple (aka the Tibetan Sea Flower story bc I just adore how pretty they’ve made those scenes)

VII. What is the best gift Wu Xie and Xiaoge could give each other?

I haven’t really thought about this type of stuff either bc we have already seen a ton of gifts being exchanged! I love the watch Wu Xie gives to Xiaoge in TLT2 as mentioned (it’s so silly but also so sweet) and I love it that Wu Xie gifts Xiaoge with a new sword in Ultimate Note. Also, I feel like I can count the food Wu Xie leaves for Xiaoge in Ultimate Note and that one moment where Xiaoge offers his knife for Wu Xie as a “pen”. They would give anything for each other as long as the other asked (which they never do) so I dunno what type of gift would matter the most. As it’s so hard to say, let me talk about one more headcanon that I’ve been thinking about ever since the infamous Bazaar photoshoot for Ultimate Note/XYL & ZSX. So, we see them having matching rings and necklaces in that photoshoot. I think jewelry would be kind of difficult for Xiaoge to wear when he needs to fight, as jewelry could be a hindrance in that type of situation But my brain won’t shut up about “pingxie married!!!” when I ask this question from it. To be honest, I do not see pingxie getting married in the traditional sense. They don’t need something like that after everything they’ve gone through. But I like to play around with the thought of promise rings. Just them exchanging rings for fun, for their own sakes, to have something concrete that reminds them of their promise to each other and of their feelings. Maybe even Xiaoge could wear that ring under his gloves idk. But am a sucker for that thought so my answer to this is then simply: a ring. relevant edits x x

if you read this far, thank you so much! I hope this gave you something and thank you once more for organizing this and allowing everyone to share their love for pingxie ^^ ♥

#10yearpromise #pingxie #dmbj #yes i ramble without any purpose #yes i love them a normal amount :)#thank you for organizing this!!#and sorry for coming at you like this #i hope you don't mind #am wishing you luck with the event!!#and hoping everyone has fun #i hope everything in this post #works like it's supposed to #bc oh boy did i struggle

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night-unfurls-its-splendour · 3 years

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The Critique of Manners Part IV

~Or~

A Very Amused Review of Emma (1972)

One doesn’t really know where to begin with this one. I’ve watched a few of these 70’s/80’s period drama adaptations, but I’ve never written a review for one. I think the tricky thing is it doesn’t feel fair to judge them against more recent adaptations because the approach and quality are so very different to modern television making.

But people do. I’m sure it’s different for people who grew up watching these, who are just used to them and their objectively terrible, stagey quality and can look past that particular weakness on the sheer power of nostalgia.

So I’m going to try and find a middle-ground here where I ignore the stagey and obviously dated aspects and judge it primarily on its value as an adaptation – is it faithful to the book?

Let’s dive in.

Cast & Characterization

Normally I would start with Emma and Knightley but this time I’m gonna switch it up a bit and do them last because… well we’ll get there in a bit.

Let’s start instead with Mr. Woodhouse. I have to say, I kind of like this take. The 1996-7 and 2009 adaptations all kind of went for the same type of older man: a bit stout, or in Michael Gambon’s case… however you would describe Michael Gambon. With Donald Eccles, however, this version goes for a rather more frail looking Mr. Woodhouse; in fact to compare him to any recent Mr. Woodhouse, I suppose he comes closest to Bill Nighy (although the general characterization is of course very different.) He’s a ridiculous but lovable soul who seems always, of course, worried about his own health and comfort, but in his own selfish way, concerned for his friends and family as well. My only complaint is that maybe they over-utilized him.

I thought the casting of a plump Mrs. Weston (Ellen Dryden) was an interesting choice, and definitely different from other versions. Her acting was actually really good too.

I wasn’t quite so pleased with the characterization of Mr. Weston, on the other hand. I have huge issues with this script vis-à-vis the men, but Mr. Weston and Knightley in particular. The problem with Mr. Weston is how he’s written as just verging on uncouth at some points. There are way too many rustic contractions here: “Ain’t I looking well too, Miss Emma?!’ “’Ark at that eh? The sly young rogue!” “Oh I think it looks tolerably gay and festive, don’t it?” and then just throwing himself back on the grass and chortling when Emma makes her fateful Box Hill faux pas? Like, what the hell? I’m not saying he shouldn’t use a few casual contractions (“How d’you do?” for example) but he seems almost like a positive country bumpkin and I don’t think it’s appropriate; he doesn’t talk like that in the book and I’m just all-around not here for it.

Constance Chapman, a well-respected character actress of the time was cast as Miss Bates, while Molly Sugden, of Are You Being Served? fame was WASTED in the bit-part of Mrs. Goddard. If you ask me, they should have swapped this casting, since I think Sugden, an outstanding comedienne, could have done so much more with the Miss Bates role than the usual wittery-old-lady style chattering Chapman delivered.

Mr. Elton was played by Timothy Peters (Right) and was, eh, adequate. They did slime him up a bit by having him over-eagerly offer to fix Emma’s bootlace, which she points out isn’t entirely appropriate for a man to do, especially the vicar and it’s pretty funny; but other than that, he has all the appearance of being a pleasant young man, as Mr. Elton should – becoming less pleasant as the story progresses.

One John Alkin (left) played Mr. Robert Martin, and he, too, was adequate. There’s not much of him and, since Mr. Martin wasn’t one of those characters this version decided to approach more three-dimensionally, there’s not much to say about him.

Frank Churchill is… OMG IT’S PRINCE HARRY FROM BLACKADDER!

Ahem. Yes, Robert East (BETTER KNOWN AS PRINCE HARRY FROM BLACKADDER) plays a very agreeable (and smarmy, but not too smarmy) Frank. I think honestly this is as good as this part could get in the 70’s, although at 29 he was a little too old for the part.

John and Isabella, in an interesting (?) casting choice, were played by brother and sister duo, Yves and Belinda Tighe. I actually really liked Yves’s John Knightley (he’s actually one of the more handsome John’s, in a 70’s kind of way; for note-taking purposes I have nicknamed him “Not-Harrison-Ford”), but his sister as Isabella seemed kind of old and had just a really annoying voice. Also she doesn’t look at all like Doran Godwin, and Emma and Isabella are supposed to look somewhat alike.

The real casting stand out for me in this version is Fiona Walker as Mrs. Elton, although she too was a little old for her role, I’ve said before that there are no bad Mrs. Eltons (only bad accents) and she just absolutely nailed the insufferable chatter to a definitive standard (until the recent adaptations – 2009 onward).

I did however, get the feeling in this version that they kind of wrote in a through-line where Mrs. Elton is putting the moves on Mr. Knightley (to the point where they actually wrote out Mr. Elton from scenes he should be in) which was one of those unnecessary deviations which made me raise an eyebrow and also was just… weird.

Now my question is – why do all of the young women in this series kind of look like evil dolls?

Debbie Bowen, from a strictly book accuracy perspective is one of the most accurate Harriet Smiths I’ve seen – in fact we don’t get another this accurate (to my way of thinking) until Louise Dylan in 2009, who fits roughly the same model (fair and shapely). Its Bowen’s acting I don’t like, but I know that in the 70’s, this kind of simpering acting for this kind of character was just unavoidable. It was the style at the time, so I’m cutting her a break critically; but the performance just doesn’t cut it for me.

This Jane Fairfax (played by Ania Marson) is not my favorite interpretation of this character. At first I thought she was going to be alright, but in her first scene she bursts out and actually shouts in frustration at her chattering aunt (which she has some basis for, I’ll admit, since Miss Bates, in her muddle-headed way, could very well have unwittingly spilled the beans about Jane and Frank) but this is far more feeling than we should even have a hint of from Jane at this point. The whole reason Emma doesn’t like Jane (other than the fact that Emma is an attention whore and Jane steals her thunder by being so admired and accomplished) is because she’s timid and demure and reserved.

But the biggest problem I have with this Jane is that she can’t even fucking sing. I know they write it away as her having a sore throat (Which I think is a pull from a different part of the book?) but this was just egregiously bad to me. This is the only time in the series they show Jane singing so it’s never actually established that Jane really is more accomplished than Emma (although they don’t show Emma herself singing or even playing at all either.) Could the actresses just not sing well so they decided to write around it? You could have dubbed it; you had that technology in the 70’s!

OK. Now it’s time to talk about Doran Godwin. I’ve never seen her in anything else so I don’t know if it’s just that she can’t act, but I have no idea what she was going for with this portrayal of Emma, and this is something so consistent and unique to her that I, for once, can’t justify blaming it solely on the director because you can’t direct crazy-eyes. They just happen; and they happen A LOT in this series.

I’ve struggled to find the words to sufficiently describe my feeling about Doran Godwin’s facial expressions and her acting in this adaptation. In my ribbon rating notes I think I describe her as a “witchy automaton”? I stand by it. Every time she talks to someone her eyes go very wide and she sort of looks like she’s trying to hypnotize everyone in Highbury. The effect is just absolutely inhuman. I never thought I’d ever see anyone with more patently crazed Crazy-Eyes than Timothy “Crazy-Eyes” Dalton – but man, Doran “Hypno-Witch” Godwin just stole the prize. Perhaps she escaped from the set of a Doctor Who? telling of the story where Miss Woodhouse has been replaced by an android.

You have scenes such as this in episode 2 , where Harriet is trying to get Emma to acknowledge Mr. Elton calling after them as they walk past the vicarage, and Emma ignores her by mechanically continuing to talk, looking straight ahead with laser focus. Of course, Emma is intentionally ignoring Harriet because she wants Mr. Elton to follow them, but that wasn’t quite apparent to me until the end of her ramble – which I had assumed she was forced to complete due to some directive in her programming. I have more to say on her characterization, but we’ll get to that in a dedicated section of the review.

John Carson might actually be one of the better Knightley’s, but I’m sorry – at 45 he was just too old. This is something you can play around with in other characters (Mr. Weston and Miss Bates after all, have no stated ages in the book) but not only do we know how old Mr. Knightley is in the book, they state in the show that Emma is 21 (Doran Godwin was actually 28) and that Mr. Knightley is sixteen years older than her – 37 or 38 – and John Carson is CLEARLY no 38. This obviously-over-forty appearance does have an effect on how I view his banter with Emma, and it’s more avuncular than the older-brother feel that Mr. Knightley and Emma should have.

Whether by direction or actor’s choice, Carson’s Mr. Knightley speaks in a way that just doesn’t feel period to me. He has a very sort of 20th Century, stock British, hearty-good-fellow manner, that dates this adaptation pretty badly and feels old-fashioned (but not in a Regency/Georgian way) even in the 70’s.

Sets & Surroundings

Normally at this point in the review I would talk about the British manor houses and estates used and how they measure up to the book descriptions but the publicly funded BBC ran on a much tighter budget in the 70’s (apparent in the production values and number of obviously bad takes that they just decided to leave in, in everything they made) and as such they couldn’t afford to film in and rent out large estates quite as much, so this has the trademark 70’s/80’s BBC sound-stage quality of all of their other productions of the period. That said, this production actually has some of the better sets I’ve seen and that’s saying something, for being made in the 70’s. The walls didn’t actually shake when doors were closed, and it didn’t feel as stagey as some other Austen serials of the time. (This doesn’t improve the very “on-cue” acting in the series, but I have to give credit where it’s due.) I believe they may used a real manor house for the exterior of Hartfield (and not a landscape pastel) and maybe some of the interiors too? I can’t say for sure, and I would love to tell you what house and where it is but I can’t find any credits on it. I’ll just say that I think it’s very suitable and leave it at that.

Costumes

Much like today, the BBC almost exclusively used, re-used and rented costumes for their period productions. Almost every costume in this series was also used in the 70’s and 80’s BBC productions of Sense and Sensibility, Mansfield Park, and Pride and Prejudice (P&P being the overwhelming common denominator – almost every one of Emma’s evening dresses and pelisses was seen, primarily on Caroline Bingley.) Some of the shawls have been picked out in BBC Austens as recently as 2008.

For being made in the 70’s the costumes in this production are really kind of nice. They don’t date themselves too badly. The ones that do feel 70’s retro, in fact, were mostly styles borrowed from period accurate fashions that just happened to coincide with contemporary 70’s tastes, and which aren’t often used in Regency costumes today because, well they don’t coincide with our modern tastes. For the most part, they look well-made (although some of them do have that stiff, dingy polyester look to them and there are definitely some plastic pearls here and there).

I’m quite pleased with the silhouettes which don’t suffer from Square Bust/Boob Droop syndrome the way the 1980 P&P does. All of the assets seem to be lifted and shifted in the right places.

Daywear

I like Emma’s blue day dress the best of all her day-wear looks. It’s a rich color and has pleated cups (Also on her white day dress) which is a style I really love.

Emma wears the gauzy… let’s be kind and say ivory instead of “Yellowish” ruff during the day A LOT (Emma Pic 2). It’s a popular look on Jane Fairfax too (Jane Pic 2) and I just… I don’t like it. Not that it’s not period appropriate (because it unfortunately is) it just makes them look like Dr. Seuss characters to me, especially worn with short sleeves which is something these dramas do a lot and I hate it. It just makes the person in question look very awkwardly disproportionate to me, especially because. if they had long sleeves to go with it (which would be more correct from a historical authenticity standpoint) it would even it out so much better. Compare Jane and Emma to see what I mean. The single layer ruffle (Emma Pic 1) is much more agreeable to me. (I wanna point out that Jane wears the same green dress without any partlet or undersleeves for strawberry picking at Donwell, which is blatant Eveningwear-For-Daywear™ and looked really out of place since everyone else was wearing day-appropriate attire).

Emma’s wider, cuffed, long sleeves and Mrs. Elton’s puffy segmented Renaissance sleeves are exactly what I mean about period accurate styles that suit the 70’s in a way that they just don’t jive today. Even Harriet gets some.

Mrs. Elton Orange ™ is another crayon color Crayola should consider I think.

Harriet gets stuck with a lot of brown outer wear but her day clothes are otherwise pretty nice. I especially like the ivory and blue number (Bottom right) and her white day dress with blue accents (Top right) which I think is the nicest thing she wears in this whole series.

Evening Wear

Emma’s evening wear confines itself pretty exclusively to cool purples and blues except for her white ball gown. I find this interesting because other versions tend to dress Emma in warmer colors and pinks (As I’m very partial to purples and blues, I love all of them). I can’t say it’s inconsistent with Emma’s cold characterization in this version. Mrs. Weston’s evening gowns are uniformly amazing. I especially love her blue party dress, which is my favorite in the series.

Both of Harriet’s party dresses are characteristically pretty and girlish. The pink is a bit fussy for me but I love the blue one (which has a lot more detail but I couldn’t get a full length shot of it.)

I’m pleased that Jane is given a bit of a break from the Jane Fairfax Blue ™ trope with her evening wear. She has one light blue evening gown and gets a few green numbers, most notable being her mint ball gown. Her beige party dress is absolutely tragic though.

Mrs. Elton’s evening color seems to be chartreuse (Which I think was also the case in the ITV version? ITV fans back me up.) Her black overlay/spiky number is iconic of the Austen Bad Girl, but her ball gown is a bit disappointing in its simplicity to me.

I would love to have seen a full length shot of Isabella’s black and purple number because I have a suspicion THAT would have been my favorite but I just can’t make out enough detail on it.

Zig-zag patterns on the skirt are a huge theme in this version, which is so of the period. Mrs. Cole (shout out to another future Are You Being Served? familiar, Hilda Fenemore) looks straight out of a fashion plate in her dark green party dress, which has (drumroll please…) a padded hem!

Outerwear

This version has SO MANY PELISSES AND REDINGOTES. Are they all nice? No. No they are not; I particularly hate Emma’s fugly salmon number that she wears for Strawberry picking/Box Hill. Mostly because she looks SO over-dressed compared to everyone else who’s wearing loose fitting light clothes (except Jane, who’s wearing an evening dress). Just looking at her makes me hot. I’m also NOT a huge fan of her pink winter cloak. The one trimmed with… faux ermine? One can only assume. It looks awfully tacky.

That russet pelisse tho! This is one of my all-time favorites. It’s SO. PRETTY and so detailed (See this number on Jane in P&P ’80). I think her gray fur-trimmed pelisse is pretty fabulous too, but I do not like the hat she wears with it. The brim is kind of a funky shape to me.

I know I’ve criticized brown before, but I do like it in moderation and this version is astonishingly brown-free for being made in the 70’s, so I really like her red/brown velvet spencer, especially with the cream dress and gloves, and her hat has some amazing decoration.

Jane and Mrs. Weston are the only other characters who get pelisses/redingotes. I’m not a fan of Mrs. Weston’s fuchsia number, and while I like Jane’s, it does put itself solidly in the Jane Fairfax Blue™ category.

Harriet gets pretty much only one form of outer-wear, her brown school cloak (a different brown school cloak from the one in the ‘97 version, in case you were wondering) and while it’s pretty dull, it’s hardly unexpected. Here it is paired with her rather ugly blue bonnet, with yellow ribbon. The bonnet features heavily in this episode.

To be honest for the most part I totally forgot about the…

because a lot of it is very standard. No dandy standouts here, but overall it’s pretty okay and I’m really pleased to say that there are no bib-cravats. That’s not usually so much a problem in Regency Era stuff (Since ruffles were going out at around this time), but you can really distinctly see that the ruffles (where ruffles there are – usually on older men which is good) are part of the shirt and distinctly separate from the cravat. Also there are LOTS of high collars and they’re not comically high to the point where they get wrinkled, like they were in Emma. (2020), so points for that also. These are the screencaps I gathered going back over it for posterity.

Mr. Knightley doesn’t really get a lot of cool outfits. His best is his purple velvet evening jacket which somehow manages to not look ostentatious (but is his only dress jacket), and his gold-topped Prussian boots (which you should just be able to see bottom right.) The worst though… I’m sorry, (looks up costumer’s name) Joan Ellacott – do you really expect me to feel the weight of Emma’s cock-ups when Mr. Knightley is rebuking her in such a cartoonishly proportioned top hat? It’s like being scolded by the Mad Hatter. All of the men’s hats are pretty flared in this series too, and I’m not totally sure but, I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that flared top hats are not right for this period?

I think Mr. Weston only has one day outfit (which, in keeping with his characterization is pretty farmer-chic) and one evening outfit. Frank’s dark green day-jacket is a pretty standard look on him and I don’t think we get a fresh look until his fabulous blue jacket/yellow waistcoat combo that he wears for Strawberry Picking/Box Hill. I believe his evening jacket is also dark green but it was tough to tell. Again I think he has only one set of evening-wear. I would expect Frank to have more, since he’s such a dandy.

Mr. John Knightley doesn’t have much to write home about in terms of evening kit, but DAYUM, his blue traveling coat is DOOOOOPE.

Let’s Talk Script

This adaptation was directed by John Glenister and Dramatized by Denis Constanduros.

Now I’ve seen a lot of positive reviews for this on IMDB calling it the… let’s see here… “The best Emma I’ve ever seen” and “The most true to the novel”… *Takes off spectacles and sighs heavily* I’m afraid I have to disagree. Several people also really love Doran Godwin’s Emma (We’ve already gone over why I don’t, and I have also seen reviews that name her and her lack of charisma as the main sticking point preventing them from really enjoying it, so I’m not alone). I’ve also heard it described as “sensitively handled” “Intimate” and “The most faithful to the spirit of Austen” and so forth, and again maybe it’s that prejudice against the stagey production and… no there’s definitely some other reason I have a problem with this version.

Let me make this clear – I don’t totally hate it, and I’m not here to shame the people who really love this version. Once again – if this version gives you what you want from the story I think that’s great for you. I, myself, like it pretty well and I think it’s one of the better early BBC Austen serials. It’s certainly not boring; but I do want to go over some of the changes that were made and choices in the script.

Some of them aren’t really that egregious, but they’re annoying in that I think they didn’t need to be made and don’t really add anything. Characters being added to scenes where they didn’t need to be and written out of scenes where their presence was missed. Like writing Mr. Elton out of Box Hill (And really the whole second half of the series, to facilitate Mrs. Elton flirting with Knightley), and adding Miss Bates into the after-dinner scene, I think at the Randalls Christmas party? I’m sure this was done for expediency but you have six episodes. It’s not as though you’re strapped for time.

Particularly praised, as far as I’ve seen, is the scene at Christmas when Knightley and Emma make up after their argument over Harriet. It takes place in the nursery, which I suppose isn’t an unreasonable place for Emma to be fawning over her niece (in the dramatization she seems to have been feeding the baby, where in the book she is playing with her). The book doesn’t specify where the scene takes place, although I assumed it to be a downstairs room, and I’m not sure that it’s entirely appropriate for Emma and a man (even one connected to her family through marriage) to be alone in an upstairs room together with the door closed and no more chaperone than a baby. But in spite of this, perhaps inappropriate, level of privacy, the scene feels less intimate to me than the book, where in the course of the conversation, where Mr. Knightley takes the baby from Emma “in the manner of perfect amity” and holds her himself and it is very adorable and sweet. In the dramatization, Knightley sort of just stands next to Emma’s chair and leans down a bit. After this conversation in the book, John comes into the room to talk to George, while in the show Emma puts the baby in the cradle and they leave the room to go downstairs.

But there are more outstanding changes that just feel wrong to me. When confronting Emma about her meddling in Harriet’s response to Mr. Martin’s proposal, Constanduros changes “What is the foolish girl about?” to “What is the stupid girl about?” it’s not that big a change, but it makes Mr. Knightley sound unnecessarily mean.

I’ve already mentioned the, er, additions regarding Mr. Weston’s dialogue and Mrs. Elton, and Jane shouting at Miss Bates; but by far the biggest, worst additions were made with Emma. The worst, I think, is the handling of this scene in Episode 4 when Harriet is feeling heartsick following Mr. Elton’s marriage.

And for those of you who don’t wanna follow the link, here’s a transcription:

Emma: Now Harriet! Your allowing yourself to become so upset over Mr. Elton’s marriage is the strongest possible reproach you could make to me!

Harriet: Miss Woodhouse –

Emma: Yes it is! You could not more constantly remind me of the mistake I made, which is most hurtful!

Harriet: Oh Miss Woodhouse, it was not intended to be!

Emma: I have not said “think and talk less of Mr. Elton” for my sake, Harriet, because it is for yours I wish it. My being hurt is a very… secondary consideration, but please, please Harriet, do learn to exert a little more self-discipline in this matter.

Harriet: {Looks down} Yes, Miss Woodhouse.

Emma: We are all creatures of feeling; we all suffer disappointments, it is how we learn to suffer them that forms our character. If you continue in this way, Harriet, I shall think you wanting in true friendship for me!

Harriet: Oh, Miss Woodhouse! You, who are the best friend I’ve ever had? Oh what a horrid, horrid wretch I’ve been!”

Emma: Oh now Harriet – (She’s gonna console her now, right?)

Harriet: Oh yes, I have, I have!

Emma: Harriet, control yourself! (ha ha bitch, u thought) Now, you will tie your bonnet, and you are coming with me to call on Mr. And Mrs. Elton at the Vicarage…

Harriet: Oh, Miss Woodhouse –

Emma: Yes you are! And I’m sure you will find it far less distressing than you think.

Harriet: Oh, Miss Woodhouse, must I?

Emma: Yes, Harriet; but you may borrow my lace ruff if you wish.

Harriet: Oh may I, Miss Woodhouse? Oh, thank you!

(Look how evil she looks! She looks like she’s planning on baking Harriet into a pie!)

While this scene is in the book and much of the dialogue is also from the book, it’s the lines that were added that stick out to me. Emma does tell Harriet that her allowing herself to become upset over the Eltons is a reproach on Emma more than anything else and reminds her miserably of the “Mistake [Emma] fell into” but from this point, the script takes a left turn from the firm but kind appeal to Harriet to move on for both her happiness and Emma’s own comfort, to a far more manipulative strain.

Even after Harriet apologizes, she goes from simply appealing to Harriet to let herself move on, to basically telling her that she’s a bad friend. She treats Harriet like she’s unreasonable for feeling this way, where in the book Emma is very understanding and feels that “she could not do too much for her; that Harriet had every right to all her ingenuity and patience…” and only after Harriet goes all afternoon with Emma soothing her and no improvement in her spirits does Emma take any kind of reproachful tack whatsoever.

In this scene, Emma says that her own happiness is a secondary consideration (this is stressed much more in the book) but from the way she says it, it seems more like she just wants Harriet to shut up about it rather than actually meaning it. (This is a very prominent example of Emma’s not seeming to really like Harriet at all in this version, only tolerating her presence.)

AND THEN she does something which Emma in the book most certainly did NOT do and forces Harriet to come with her to visit the Eltons, as if to put her on the spot and test how good a little friend she will be. I can’t express how disgusted I am by the changes and interpretation here. This is the culmination of the general through-line of Emma’s manipulative characterization being taken to an extreme. She looms over Harriet sounding, by turns, like a school marm and a saccharine nanny. She’s like a (very) low budget version of Tilda Swinton as the White Witch in The Chronicles of Narnia.

My question about all of these changes is simply: Why? They don’t improve the story or the characters. They’re not big, but a lot of them just strike me as weird and unnecessary, but I guess there’s no accounting for artistic license.

Final Thoughts

So is it a faithful adaptation? I often find this a more complex question to answer for myself than one would think, since inflection and line delivery and even, at some points, intention behind what the characters say tends to be up to the interpretation of the person reading the book.

Is the dialogue faithful? Other than the many changes I’ve mentioned (and the numerous cuts and edits I didn’t – and besides no screenplay can be 100% faithful), for the most part yes.

Are the characters accurate to description / faithful in their portrayal – again this tends to be subjective and opinions vary. In my opinion, Emma is not. I’ve mentioned that Knightley is too old, and Emma not only seems more intentionally manipulative than I believe she’s meant to be, and also just does not seem 21. She acts and looks like a much older woman, especially when preaching at Harriet) but she’s also very gawky, and Emma is supposed to look very healthy and glowing.

So my book accuracy rating meets in the middle at a 4.5. It’s NOT the most faithful adaptation I’ve seen, nor is it the most fun or the most intimate, but it’s not totally a travesty either and there are good things in it, even with a robot witch playing the main lead.

Ribbon Rating: Tolerable (43 Ribbons )

Tone: 4

Casting: 5 (Witchy automaton Doran Goodwin plays opposite avuncular good-fellow John Carson. Fiona Walker stands out as Mrs. Elton.)

Acting: 5 (Doran Goodwin is by turns crazed and mechanical with some momentary touches of what might be actual emotion. Raymond Adamson way over-acts Mr. Weston as a hobbeldy-hoi, verging on uncouth.)

Scripting: 4

Pacing: 4

Cinematography: 4 (A bump up from the usual 1 or 2 for TV dramas of the time. Surprisingly less stagey than expected.)

Sets and Settings: 5

Costumes: 7 (Very clearly of the 70’s but drawing on perfectly accurate styles that jived well with contemporary taste)

Music: 1 (Plinky, poorly played piano music. Only used for intro and outro I think? Jane Fairfax can neither play nor sing.)

Book Accuracy: 5 (They changed a lot of small details. Lines are changed unnecessarily (Calling Harriet “Stupid” rather than “Foolish” – Why?) Mrs. Elton seems to have a thing for Knightley? People present when they shouldn’t be, others absent when they should be present, again without any apparent reason.)

#jane austen emma #jane austen #regency #period drama #costume drama #emma 1972

16 notes · View notes

lenniewip · 4 years

Text

Unknown (A Sterek Wrong Number/Celebrity AU)

11.09 PM Unknown Number

>I’m writing songs about you again.

11.20 PM Unknown Number

>its stiles btw.

>in case you deleted my number

>I did.

>I mean I deleted yours.

>but I still remember it apparently

11:41 PM Unknown Number

>I only have 2 lines so far

11:57 PM Unknown Number

>I bleed you from my veins.

>I grieve you like I love you.

>alone.

>its better with the chords.

>u were always better at writing lyrics than me

12:34 AM Unknown Number

>u were better everything than me

2:00 AM Unknown Number

>I hate that I miss you

2:07 AM Unknown Number

>do u want to hook up?

>I promise not to propose again

2:15 AM Unknown Number

>im sorry.

>ignore me.

>im drinking

Derek blinked bleary eyes. His phone screen was the only source of light in his room, as he read through the flurry text messages.

What the hell is a Stiles?

2:17 AM Unknown Number

<I think you have the wrong number

>Lydia?

<no

>oh thank fuck

>I mean

>I’m sorry

>for disturbing ur sleep

>but im just glad I didn’t drunk text my ex all of this

>bullet dodged right?

>is this what near death experiences feel like?

<I wouldn’t know.

>of course

>hey

>seeming as I have you here can I ask you a quick q?

>all my friends are asleep

<probably because its 3am

<everyone’s asleep

>2.39

>and ur not

>asleep that is

>so?

>I’ll take your silence as a go ahead

>what do you think?

>of the lyrics

<im the wrong person to ask

>never experienced heartbreak?

<no

<all song lyrics just look like bad poetry to me

>oh

>yeah I guess it does

>not everyone can be Rupi Kaur tho right?

<do you want to be rupi kaur?

>sure

>not to be dramatic or anything

>but

>I want to be anyone but me

>think id rather be someone like regina spektor tho

<regina spektor?

>singer/song writer

>shes my fucking inspiration

>her lyrics are like poetry to me

>you should listen to her music

<I dont really listen to music

>what the fuck?

>are you an alien?

<no?

>nice fucking try ET

>thats exactly what an alien would say

<…you got me there

>akdjfen

>is this you admitting I was right?

<no

<but this is me going to bed

<because its now 4AM

>already?

>fuck

>ive got an early start tomorrow

>good night random stranger

>and thanks

>for listening

>or reading ig

<good night

“You’re late.” Laura frowned, arms crossed.

“Are you going to let me in?” Derek grumbled, still feeling the affects of having stayed up until 4AM the previous night.

Laura didn’t argue she just stepped aside to let him through into her flat. “You’re grumpier than usual.” She noted.

“Didn’t sleep well.”

Derek hated the look she gave him then.

The look that said he was broken. The look that said she wanted to fix him.

“Is…Is it the nightmares again?” Laura’s voice dipped to a whisper, like the question alone would be enough to send him over the edge.

“No.”

An awkward silence defended over the two of them, neither knowing what to say.

Derek clung to the silence like a blanket, wishing things could go back to how they used to be. Back to when they knew how to speak to one another.

But this was enough.

It was enough to know that they were both trying. Failing. But trying.

2:40 PM Laura

>I’m here if you need to talk.

Derek isn’t good at art, but sometimes it’s the only way he can express himself. Words had never been his forte.

So instead he doodles.

Shitty toddler level doodles that he never shows anyone.

Sometimes he thinks if he could bring himself to show Laura she would like it. Maybe she would even understand it.

But there was a bigger chance that she wouldn’t, and he would feel even more like a stranger to his own sister than he already was.

10:18 PM Unknown Number

>I don’t remember it anymore

<You have the wrong number again

>No

>This is ‘not Lydia’ right?

<right

>So here’s the thing.

>I always thought if I needed to text her I could

>And I thought maybe I got her number wrong because I was drunk

>But I can’t remember it anymore

<Oh.

>I have some of her things still

>I don’t think I’ll ever get to return it now

>Unless she messages me first

<When did you two break up?

>Last year

>and I know what you’re thinking

>’it’s October’

>and I should be over her by now

>Trust me I know

>So you don’t need to lecture me

<I wasn’t going to

>Oh

<Stiles?

>That’s weird

<what is?

>I forgot I told you my name

<You should throw away the stuff she left behind.

>you’re right

>I don’t like it.

>but you’re right

>…thanks

<What for?

>for listening

>reading**

>my friends are pretty sick of hearing me complain

>so this is nice

<sure

<anytime

>dope

>no take backsies

<am I going to regret this?

>for definite

>you’re stuck with me now

That night Derek saves Stiles’ number as ‘Bad Poet’.

Stiles keeps messaging after that.

Stiles messages like they’ve been friends for years, and Derek very determinedly does not analyse why it is he always responds.

Even when there are messages dated from Laura from three days ago that he hasn’t even been able to bring himself to open yet.

He also ignores how when he’s messaging Stiles the gaping pit that had made residence in his chest feels just a little less inescapable.

Derek can’t bring himself to tell Stiles his name. He can’t bring himself open up, even though there’s a large part of him that wants to.

He’s not above admitting he’s scared.

Derek draws Stiles sometimes.

More accurately he draws a vague pair hands texting on a phone, because he has no idea what Stiles actually looks like.

Derek refuses to let himself dwell on that though, because they are happy drawings.

The pictures of Stiles are pretty much his only happy drawings right now.

They don’t always talk about Lydia.

Sometimes Stiles messages Derek song lyrics he’s working on.

Other times it’s memes, or just a bunch of emojis.

Once Stiles had just messaged him what Derek could only assume was a list of everything he had eaten that day.

Sometimes Stiles messages in rambles - and Derek can’t always keep up with the boy’s run away thoughts, but even then he never feels lost the way he does when he’s trying to interact with literally anyone else.

And sometimes it’s 2AM. Those are simultaneously Derek’s favourite and least favourite texts.

2:02 AM Bad Poet

>sometimes I feel like too much

>and too little

>at the same time

>u ever feel like that ET?

<not really

>its like I’m infinite, and meaningless

>like a never ending echo

>or a recurring decimal

>I just stretch on and on forever but theres no point to it

>I have no depth

<youre not meaningless

<you’re a rhythm.

<like breathing

>…

>was that a regina spektor reference?

<it might have been

>I thought you didn’t listen to music?

<well someone said her lyrics were like poetry

<so I thought I would check out a few songs

>well fuck

>what did you think?

<she’s good

>you spelt ‘amazing’ wrong

<I still prefer poetry

>of course you do

Derek stared at the texts an ache filling his chest.

Derek was the opposite of infinite. Everything he touched turned to flames.

10:30AM Bad Poet

<my sister bought me flower seeds

>I didn’t know you had a sister?

<she’s everything I have

>oh

<and I think she’s trying to trick me into therapy somehow

>…with flower seeds?

<yes

>you sound extremely paranoid

>maybe therapy wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for you?

<shut up

>noted.

>keep me posted on how your gardening goes

>also

>as a side note

>you know you have me too right?

>if you ever need to talk or anything, I’m right here for you

<thanks

>anytime

On Derek’s birthday Laura insists the two of them spend the day together, and Derek knows better than to argue.

She buys him a cake and they spend hours sat next to one another silently. Two strangers desperately trying to keep hold of one another but with an ocean dividing them.

Once their family had been so alive.

And it was all Derek’s fault that was gone.

They both knew it.

Sometimes Derek wondered if Laura hated him as much as he did.

He was too scared to ask.

That night Derek chased the ache in his chest away with a drink.

And then several more followed.

1:14 AM Bad Poet

<seh haars me

>sorry bud, you’re going to have to try again

>try spell checking before hitting send

<she.hates mee

>who?

<larn

>are you drunk?

<yeh

<tyongs ndrf

*Out Going Call: Bad Poet*

The phone rings twice before being picked up. “Sorry. Stupid keyboard is so small. Impossible to type.” Derek mumbled, his words slightly muffled by his cheek being pressed into the sofa cushion.

“Wow. You’re really sloshed huh?”

“No.” Derek denied. “Just tipsy.”

“Right. So what was it you were trying to tell me? Someone hates you?”

“Laura.”

“Who’s Laura?”

“My sister.”

“Oh.”

“She looks at me like she wishes she could fix me.”

“That doesn’t sound like she hates you, bud.”

“She should. I can’t be fixed.”

“You’re right, because you’re not broken.”

Hearing Stiles say that Derek could almost believe it to be true.

“I mean it. You’re not broken. You’re just a different shape than you used to be. But the shape you are now is beautiful.”

Derek closes his eyes and lets the words wash over him. “Do you sing?” He finds himself asking.

“What?”

“I know you write songs, but do you ever sing?”

“Oh…” Stiles sounds uncomfortable. “I guess… Yeah. I do.”

Derek hummed in the back of his throat. “I bet you have a nice voice.”

“Th-thanks.”

Derek tried to say something else, but all that comes out is a yawn, which makes Stiles let out a jittery laugh.

Derek tries to memorise the sound of It, but it’s so fleeting, it’s already slipping away from him.

“I think you need to go sleep, ET.”

“Yeah.” Derek agrees.

“Goodnight bud.”

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Could you stay on the phone? Just for a bit longer.” Derek clutched on to the phone like if he could grip tightly enough it would make Stiles stay.

I don’t want to be alone. The words die on Derek’s tongue.

“Sure.” Stiles didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Sleep pulled at Derek’s consciousness, unravelling his grip on reality.

“Stiles?”

Stiles hummed in answer.

“Your shape is beautiful too.”

A small whimper came from the other end of the phone. “Thanks.”

7:50 AM Bad Poet

>how are you feeling today?

<better

>good <3

Derek holds his phone tightly and wishes that he had more to say. Just to keep the conversation going.

He also wishes (not for the first time) that Stiles was more than a faceless entity on the other end of the phone.

But it’s the first time he feels the want like a physical ache in his chest.

Derek had never been good with words, but if Stiles was here in front of him Derek would probably give him a hug.

But everything Derek touches eventually dies, and a larger part of him is relieved for the distance.

Derek plants the seeds his sister got him that day.

9:48 PM Bad Poet

>would it totally weird you out if I wanted to do another phone call?

>don’t feel like you need to say yes

>I just enjoyed talking to you

>and hearing your voice

>ugh.

>why are words so hard?

<I wouldn’t be opposed to a phone call

*Incoming Call: Bad Poet*

“Hey.” Derek feels breathless as he answers the phone, anxious excitement clawing it’s way up his throat.

“Hey.” Stiles sounds equally out of breath, and that helps.

Derek chews on his lip, scrambling for something to say. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles admitted. “Anything.”

“Helpful.” Derek said sarcastically.

“I mean. There’s one thing. I didn’t want to ask when you were drunk because it felt a little like taking advantage. And I don’t want you to think you have to answer-”

“Stiles.” Derek interrupts before Stiles could break into a full blown ramble.

“Tell me your name.” Stiles breaks. “Please.”

Anxiety grips his heart. But… he couldn’t stay scared forever.

“It’s Derek.”

“Derek.” Stiles repeats his name in a reverent whisper, as if committing it to memory.

And hearing Stiles say his name makes everything worth it.

Phone calls become a regular thing between the two of them over the next month. Always between late in the evening and the early hours of the day.

The next time Derek spirals he doesn’t drink before he calls Stiles, but he does cry on the phone.

The next morning he wakes up to a text from Stiles.

6:42 AM Bad Poet

>you need to talk to your sister

And Derek knows he’s right.

It’s not easy confronting Laura. He has two separate anxiety attacks on the walk to her apartment alone.

But he forces himself to take the dive.

“It’s okay if you hate me.” He tells her, even though it’s not okay. Laura’s hate might be the only thing in the world that could break him beyond repair.

Laura looks horrified as she stares at him. “I don’t- Obviously I don’t hate you Derek.”

“It’s my fault that they’re gone.” Derek addresses the elephant in the room.

If he hadn’t fallen in love with Kate.

If he hadn’t broken up with her, just to try and prove a point when she refused to say ‘I love you’ back…

There never would have been a fire.

Their family would still be here if it wasn’t for him.

“Fuck that!” Laura let out a harsh noise. “Derek, none of this was ever your fault. You were a kid, and even if you weren’t… You never set the fire.”

“I might as well have.”

“No. If anyone… I was your big sister- am your big sister. But I was so fucking wrapped up in myself. I didn’t even know about Kate.”

The last time Derek had seen Laura cry it had been at the funeral, so it took a second to fully sink in what he was seeing.

He found himself crying to.

“I’m so sorry, Der.”

Derek stumbled forwards pulling Laura into a crushing hug. Laura hugs him back just as tight.

They spend hours refusing to let go of one another.

He realises he fell asleep on Laura’s sofa when he woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. But he had no idea where it was, and he was too tired to move.

He feels Laura moving and the sound of the phone ringing gets louder before cutting off abruptly.

“Hello?”

“No - Derek’s asleep.”

“Maybe call at a more reasonable time?”

“Who is this?”

“Your voice sounds familiar.”

“Right.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Derek let sleep over take him once more.

2:29 AM Bad Poet

>sorry for calling so late

>you’re asleep so I’ll just take to you tomorrow

9:07 AM Bad Poet

<sorry, I was really tried

>no worries man

>you’re allowed to have a life outside of me

<was something wrong?

>no I was just bored, and didn’t realise how late it had gotten

>im fine

>how are you?

<im good actually

<I spoke to Laura

>yeah?

>I’m proud of you

>how’d that go?

<we both cried

<a lot

<and I ended up falling asleep on her couch

>look at you, opening up and shit.

>think I might cry now

<shut up

>literally never

>better men have tried and failed to silence me

2:40 PM Laura

>Want to see a movie on Friday?

<sure

One night Stiles calls Derek just to say his name in stupid ways, and laugh himself stupid after each one.

“Duhreek.”

“Doreck.”

“Fuck. I’m getting a stitch from laughing.”

“You’re so fucking dumb.” Derek is smiling as he said it.

“Deeruk.” Stiles wheezes out.

Derek just closes hie eyes and listens.

“I’m so fucking glad I know you, Stiles.” The words fall out of Derek’s mouth without much thought.

He only realises the weight of his words when Stile’s laughter pulls to a stop.

“I uh-” Stiles stammered. “Me too. Fuck. You’re the best thing to happen to me in…so fucking long. I’m glad I know you too Derek.”

Derek finally admits to himself that night that he’d fallen at least a little in love with the stranger from the unknown number.

He keeps trying to draw Stiles, but he can’t. Vague shapes just don’t cut it anymore.

He wants to map Stiles out with his eyes and translate it onto the page.

He wants to be able to see the smile behind the laughter.

He wants.

1:58 AM Bad Poet

>do you think you day we’ll actually meet?

>maybe not intentionally

>maybe one day we’d pass each other in the streets and not even know

>maybe we already have

Derek couldn’t imagine a scenario where he wouldn’t notice Stiles.

<is there ever a moment when you’re not talking?

<I think id recognise your voice and know it was you

>maybe your face would make me speechless ;)

<I think id still know

<but if you want to be sure… I could send you a picture?

<of me

>dkfajd

>for reals?

>you would do that?

>you?

<well…not for free

>there’s always a catch

>what do you want?

>my soul?

>a blood debt?

>you can have whatever it is

<I meant you’d have to send me a picture too

<geez stiles

The next text takes an unnervingly long time to come through.

>I could do that

>a photo for a photo

>I kind of look like shit rn

>so no judging me

Derek spends the next two minutes fussing and fidgeting to take a good photo. No matter what angle he took it from the bags under his eyes were noticeable, and so was the week’s worth of stubble he had yet to shave off.

And maybe this was a terrible, awful, idea.

But Derek would send one hundred bad pictures if it meant getting to see one of Stiles.

He forced himself to press send on the last picture he took.

As he pressed send another photo came in.

Derek’s fingers shook as he hit the button to download the image.

His heart stopped.

Stiles was beautiful in every sense of the word, and Derek found himself unable to look away. Even when he heard the small dings of incoming messages.

But he couldn’t ignore them for long, because it was Stiles. And when ever Stiles messaged Derek had to answer.

>Fucking hell

>are you for real?

>you gave me a heart attack

>am I being catfished right now?

>when do you think you were going to tell me you’re the most fucking beautiful man to exist ever?

>how the hell to you look like that as 2AM!?

>Derek

>oh my god

>you gotta respond my dude because I’m freaking out a little bit

>still there?

>did my selfie scare you away?

>I would have tried harder for a nice photo if I knew I was talking to an adonis

>Derek?

<still here

>of thank fuck

>so…

<so?

>come on

>your going to give me a complex

>the selfie…was it okay?

>I know it’s not much

>but we can’t all be greek gods

<its beautiful

<you’re beautiful, stiles

>oh

>thanks

Derek is so far gone that he makes the picture of Stiles the home screen on his phone.

9:49 AM Bad Poet

<Laura wants me to meet her boyfriend

<this is all your fault

>how is this my fault?

<because she never wanted to introduce us before

<and then you got me to talk to my sister

<and now she wants me to meet him

>…and this is a bad thing?

<yes

>because?

<I don’t make good first impressions

<it’s going to be awkward

>yeah probably

<you’re not helpful

>I wasn’t trying to be ;)

>have fun, Derek!

Meeting Laura’s boyfriend wasn’t as awkward as Derek thought it was going to be. But it was strange.

Derek hadn’t been expecting to meet someone so soft and kind. He was nothing like any one that Laura had dated before.

But he also wasn’t used to seeing Laura smile as much as she did around him.

Maybe not all change was bad.

Derek tells Laura about Stiles by accident. Or more accurately he mentions Stiles once by accident (not even by name) and Laura had badgered him until he admitted that he had made a friend through a wrong number.

“There’s a lot of weirdos out there.”

“I know.”

God did Derek ever know.

But Stiles is different.

“Just…be careful.”

“I am being. I promise.”

Laura reluctantly lets it go after that. “So…what’s he like?”

“He’s…he’s like bad poetry.”

“Oh god. You’re in love with him aren’t you?”

Derek can’t bring himself to deny it, but he does tell Laura to shut up.

Derek fully embraces being in love with Stiles on the day he tells Stiles about his drawings. He’d never told anyone about them before - not even Laura. But telling Stiles had been easy.

‘It reminds me of line art’ Stiles had said when Derek had sent him a photo of the doodle he had been working on. “I love it’.

A warmth flutters through Derek’s veins.

It all goes sideways on the day Laura goes on Derek’s phone to check the time.

She’d raised one eyebrow at him looking amused.

“I thought you didn’t listen to music?” She said, a teasing note to her voice.

“I don’t.” Derek shrugged.

“A huh. So why do you have a picture of Stiles Stilinski as your wallpaper?” She asks.

It’s so startling to hear Stiles name coming out of Laura’s mouth that Derek’s brain refuses to function properly. “How do you know Stiles?” He asks weakly.

Laura laughs. “He’s not exactly a niche celebrity Der. He was a really famous YouTuber before he started selling albums.”

Derek doesn’t know what to say to that. He blinks as his world slowly unravels before him.

No.

She had to be wrong, because Derek couldn’t be in love with a celebrity. Stiles couldn’t be…

“Hey are you okay? You look really sick?”

“He’s famous?” His throat is dry.

“Yes? Are you okay? What’s wrong? You’ve got to speak to me Der. Use your words.”

Derek just shakes his head because he can’t.

“It’s him.” He manages to get out.

“What are you talking about?”

“Laura. It’s him.”

It takes a moment to click but Derek knows when it does because a look of thunderous wrath takes over Laura’s face.

“I’ll kill him.” She seethes, shaking with anger. “What kind of fucking punk thinks that this is a good prank to play?”

“What?”

“No one is getting away with catfishing you, Der. I’m going to hunt this fucker down, and then I’ll rip him so many new ones that he going to look like SpongeBob when I’m done with him.”

And god, Derek hadn’t even considered the thought that Stiles might not even be Stiles. The thought of Stiles being a liar…

The gape in his heart grows a little bit bigger.

And it all falls apart.

It takes hours before Derek can convince himself to confront Stiles.

11:08 PM Bad Poet

<you’re stiles stilinki

>fuck

(And yeah, it was really him).

>how did you find out?

<Laura

>I was going to tell you

<Were you?

>Yes

>I’ve wanted to for ages

>It just never felt like the right time to bring it up

<I wish you had decided on the right time was sooner

>Me too

>I’m sorry

>Please don’t hate me

Derek did not think it was possible for him to hate any part of Stiles.

<I don’t

>Thank fuck

>seriously

>can I call you?

<sure

Derek closed his eyes after sending the text and waited for Stiles to ring. A heartbeat later his ringtone sounded off.

“Hey.”

“You believe me right?” And Stiles sounds more frantic than Derek had ever heard him before.

“I believe you, Stiles.”

“Are you sure, because I can prove it if you want? I can do a video call? Or I can tweet literally anythi-”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

Stiles lets out a small whine, that reaches through the phone line and yanks at Derek’s already tattered heart, unraveling him just a little more.

“Meet me.” Stiles said, taking Derek by surprise.

“What?”

“Please. I meant to throw a please in there, I’m just really fucking nervous right now. Meet me please. In real life. I uh- I was going to ask when I finally told you about the whole being a celebrity thing. It’s still weird to say that out loud. That’s part of why it was so hard to tell you. But the point was you beat me to the punch with the whole reveal thing, but I still wanted to ask.”

“Stiles…”

“And it’s not that I was trying to use my influence or fame to pressure you into meeting me. I just wanted to be in a space where we were one hundred per cent honest with one another before I asked you. You can still say no. Of course you can, I don’t know why I’m- my point is I hope you don’t say no.”

Derek feels his heart break in two.

“Stiles…I can’t.”

“Oh.”

He hadn’t fully realised just how many worlds apart the two of them were when he had fallen in love with Stiles. It felt even more impossible than it had before.

“I’m sorry.” The words leave him feeling hollow.

“No. Don’t apologise. This is just me getting carried away. It’s okay.”

I love you. The words never leave Derek. They can’t leave him.

There was no way this could work, and he was far too scared of breaking the tentative connection they had with his useless words.

It was better for him to just… fall out of love.

6:17AM Laura

<it’s really him

>are you sure

<I’m sure

>what are you going to do?

<nothing

>Derek you’re in love with him

<I’m aware

<it doesn’t matter

<it wouldn’t ever work

>I’m sorry

<don’t be

<I’m going to be fine

>Im coming over with wine

That night Derek fills pages and pages of his notebook with drawings of Stiles.

When he gets a message from Stiles at 11PM- for the first time since they started messaging- Derek leaves it unopened.

He never ignores a message again after that, and life moves on. Stiles still messages him all the time, but he never asks to call anymore.

Derek misses his voice so much that he goes onto youtube and listens to his music.

He buys all three albums Stiles released and it still doesn’t feel like enough.

He fills an entire notebook with doodles of Stiles.

It’s still not enough.

1:11 PM Bad Poet

>I wrote you a song

>I know you don’t listen to music

>but it felt weird to not a least send you a link

>bad poetry at 2:00am

The link leads Derek to a youtube video of Stiles holding a ukulele and staring with a soft smile at the camera.

“Hey guys. It’s been a while, huh? But I guess I finally found inspiration. So here we go.”

The song is beautiful, but even more beautiful than that was Stiles.

When the song reached the end Derek doesn’t hesitate to hit replay.

He listens to the song ten times before he realises he’s crying - and he knows that he’s never going to ‘get over’ Stiles because he doesn’t want to.

3:00 PM Laura

>have you seen the video?

<he sent me a link

<he wrote a song for me Laura

<I love him so fucking much and he wrote a song for me

>fuck

<what do I do?

>what do you want to do?

<I don’t know

>I think you should look at his twitter

>I wasn’t going to say anything because you said you wanted to get over him

>but I think you need to see it

>@stilesstilinki

@stilesstilinski

I want to hug him

@stilesstilinski

Get you a guy that will stay up with you until 4AM talking about literally anything

@stilesstilinski

Why do I alway fall for people so far out of my league? rip me I guess.

@stilesstilinski

He makes me want to write poetry

Derek spends hours scrolling through Stiles’ twitter.

He scrolls far enough back that he gets to the part of his timeline where his twitter is littered with pictures of Lydia, which causes the ache in Derek’s chest to grow. But he can’t stop looking because Stiles looks so happy.

And Derek falls impossibly more in love.

He lets himself acknowledge for the first time that Stiles might love him back.

And everything else?

It’s worth it.

Because Stiles is worth everything to Derek.

2:00 AM Bad Poet

<so I looked at your twitter

>fuck.

>how much did you see?

<all of it

>tight

>please excuse me while I go die now

>bye

<don’t leave yet

<I had something I wanted to ask you

>did you want me to delete the tweets?

>I can do that

>I’ll just delete the whole account

>I am my own worst enemy so this won’t be a problem

>actually Jackson Whittemore is my worst enemy

>but I’m a close second

<stiles?

>yup?

<Will you go on a date with me?

>alkdjf

>yes?

>Ofc yes?

>are you being serious?

>because this would be a cruel prank if you’re not serious

<I’m serious

>yes.

>yes. yes. yes. yes. yes. yes.

>holy shit

>theres no fucking universe where I say ‘no’ to that question from you

>im so fucking in love with you

>is it too soon to say that?

>I don’t even care

>I’m speaking my truth

>you obviously don’t have to say it back

>im going to woo you so hard Derek

>you’ll have to love me back eventually

>I’m going to write you poetry

>hell I’ll even read poetry for you

>ill give the whole fucking moon to you

<why would I want the moon?

<im not gru?

>despicable me

>that was a despicable me reference.

>you don’t listen to music, but you watch despicable me?

>you’re such an enigma to me Derek

>god I love you so much

<stiles?

>too much?

<no

<I don’t think I could ever have too much of you

<I love you too stiles

<so much

<I just don’t want you to get your hopes up

<I might not be able to live up to it in real life

>impossible

<seriously stiles

>I am being serious

>I’m already in love with you Der

>you don’t have to do anything more than you’ve already done

>you could wear a potato sack, and spend the whole night not saying anything at all

>and I would still be in love with you

>all you have to do now is show up

<…I can do that

>perfect

TWO YEARS LATER

@stilesstilinski

Hey @JacksonWhittemore, remember when you told me I would die alone? Well I just got engaged to the love of my life. So checkmate fucker.

#sterek #eternal sterek #what am i even doing?#i just spent the last two days writing this and banging my head against the wall and nothing else #should i write this into a full fic one day?#i probably wont #hope you guys enjoy #sterek drabble #5k words of them being idiots #i cut so much out how is this still 5k?#stiles stilinki #derek hale #laura is the only other character that makes an appearance #im supposed to be sleeping #but here we are ig #texting #wrong number #celebrity stiles

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colonel-insomniac · 4 years

Text

Heather— Conan Gray

And we are back! sorry for the long wait, i graduated, I’m getting ready to start uni, ive been a little busy. Anyways, read other Spongebob One-shots HERE and if its a while before i release another one, pls read my book The Other Planet HERE because I aim to publish it after rewriting. "I still remember, third of December, me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you…"

Bobby was slumped in a chair, chin resting on an arm that was propped up by a cafeteria table. Prom was a bust, that's really all he had discovered tonight.

Everyone always says prom is a magical night, and bonds are formed that will never break, and maybe Bobby is being a little over dramatic about this, but this dance turned out to be a total waste of seventy-five bucks.

Truthfully, he'd wanted to be asked to prom, and by Patrick. But when it became clear that wasn't happening, his mom had insisted he still go, despite his lamenting about not wanting to. She'd promised him that he would later wish he had gone. Bobby supposed it would be better than being sprawled on the couch, watching movies.

Now, however, all he wished to do was watch movies. Since he'd walked through the doors of the high school gym, Bobby had a flighty feeling gnawing at his insides. And he knew it was heartwarming when Pat walked through the doors with his mom, but he couldn't help wishing he was walking through that entrance with Patrick.

Bobby had ducked into the bathroom—accidentally into the girls first, where they asked why he looked upset after their initial shock—the boy's bathroom, where he locked himself in a stall, and sat for a couple minutes.

His heart was beating fast, so he pulled out his phone and played some Subway Surfer's in an attempt to calm down. It was just Pat after all, his best friend for life. There was no reason to be nervous.

And that's when he wound up at this table. He'd weaved his way through the throng of dancing kids, chatting with a couple of them before moving on. Bobby had managed to catch a couple of glances at Patrick, who was seated at a table with his mom. But they weren’t talking, he was looking around with a frown.

“Only if you knew, how much I liked you, but I watch your eyes as she walks by…”

Bobby had a sneaking suspicion that Patrick liked Sandy, a really smart Texan. He had no proof of this, of course, besides how much they seemed to hang out these days. Bobby felt bad about that thought. She’s not a bad person, Sandy, that is. She’s really smart, and shes’ pretty, and nice, and all good things. But Bobby had been missing his best friend recently. He’d tried talking to Edward—or Eddie, as Bobby called him, despite Edward’s scowls—but it was evident that the tall, clarinet playing, art adept boy was consumed with work, and consequently had no time to talk.

Bobby had sat down in the chair he’s now in, spinning stories out of the pattern on the table to keep himself occupied. Even he was aware how pitiful that sounded. Sandy and Edward had come up to him, separately of course, and chatted for a bit each. He’d grinned when Eddie voluntarily sat next to him, but Eddie had made sure Bobby knew he was only talking to him tonight because of how Bobby had been one of the few to treat him kindly. At that, Bobby’s mouth fell open in shock. Eddie was such a fun person to be around in his opinion. He’s going to have to talk with people and tell them how awesome Eddie is.

Bobby half listens to what Eddie is telling him, nodding his head in agreement as he thinks of how he can help the talented man. Soon enough, Edward decides he’s talked enough, and excuses himself. That’s when Sandy practically leapt out of the almost non-existent shadows, nearly giving Bobby a heart attack. He jumps a little, and Sandy smiles, apologizing for startling him. “You? Scare me? No, no, I was just getting up!” Bobby tries, knowing that Sandy knows it’s a lie.

“What a sight for sore eyes, brighter than the blue sky, she’s got you mesmerized, while I die…”

“Mhm, sure.” Sandy gives him a knowing look. “Why are ya camped out here anyhow?” Bobby shrugs, not wanting to explain. “Patrick has been lookin’ for ya, he seems worried ‘bout somethin’.” Bobby looks away, feeling guilty.

The ever-perceptive girl takes note of the expression on Bobby’s face, and in one motion, pulls out a chair and sits down. Bobby keeps his head tilted towards the table, hoping she won’t want him to talk about it. “Now, what’s wrong Bobby? You’ve been actin’ stranger than a cow dancin’ at a disco rodeo.” Bobby’s eyebrows scrunch together, a little confused by the saying, but then he shakes his head and thinks up a response.

He shrugs, “Nothing, I just don’t wanna be here anymore.” Sandy’s own eyebrows shoot up, and she asks what he means by that.

“Why would you ever kiss me, I’m not even half as pretty, you gave her your sweater it's just polyester, but you like her better, wish I were Heather…”

Bobby lifts his shoulder again, not sure of what to say or how to say it. He blows air out, watching a strand of his hair float up and fall down again while he thinks. Sandy see the discomfort on his face, and drags him outside, into the quiet. The air out here fills Bobby’s lungs, pleasantly warm. It smells like spring, hope, rebirth, renewal. “Now talk.” She orders, and he has no choice but to admire her persistence.

“I kinda like Pat.” It’s a low whisper, and Sandy’s face brightens. Bobby frowns. “What’re you smiling about?”

Sandy quickly irons out her face, assuring him that there’s nothing going on, gesturing for him to continue. “But I think he likes you, not me.” Bobby stares hard at a tree, watching as the moonlight pokes through the holes in the leaves.

Sandy makes a sound in the back of her throat, and Bobby can’t quite place an emotion to the sound. “He’s a great guy, I would know, I did spend the past 17 years of my life with him.” Bobby continues, turning to Sandy and plastering a bright, fake smile on his face as he grabs her hands. “Pat’s a lot of fun to be around, he’s also really soft.” Bobby stares up and away from Sandy, trying to keep his emotions under control.

“Bobby, you’ve got it all wrong—” Sandy starts, and Bobby numbly thinks how she does look pretty ethereal right now, and kinda all the time. How could someone not like her?

“Watch as she stands with her holding your hand, put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder…”

“Trust me, Sandy, it’s okay. If you like him too, you should tell him. You guys will…have a lot of fun together.” He’s trying to work himself up to be happy. He should be happy for the two anyways.

He hardly hears himself as he continues on, rambling, Sandy watching him with eyes that keep getting wider. It’s when he’s starting to turn to go back inside, and turning her too, that Sandy seems to snap out of her shock, and grabs Bobby’s shoulders. “Listen Bobby,” Bobby opens his mouth to ask something, confused, but Sandy shakes her head, so he nods. “You gotta trust me on this one. Pat doesn’t like me. I know who he likes, and this person is at this party. Patrick’s plannin’ on tellin’ them tonight, so you oughta at least go and see him.” Bobby shakes his head, once, before Sandy frowns at him. “He’s itchin’ to talk to you, been missin’ you all night, and y’all are both actin’ pretty dang stupid.” Bobby’s too confused, puzzling over that last part, and before he can protest it, Sandy’s grabbed his hand, and drags him inside.

“But how could I hate her? She's such an angel, but then again, kinda wish she were dead, as she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes, brighter than a blue sky, she's got you mesmerized, while I die…”

“Sandy…” That’s all Bobby can get out. The cold of the air condition raises goosebumps on his arms, and okay, maybe that isn’t the only reason. Because now, he’s going to be face to face with Patrick, and only Sandy knows why she’s doing this.

He didn’t think he was wrong though, about Patrick liking Sandy. But now that she’s said that it isn’t her, Bobby feels almost like he’s been thrown into an existential crisis. His stomach clenches, and he desperately tries to stall by any means necessary, but Sandy doesn’t buy any of the excuses he’s giving her. She just tells Bobby to trust him and keeps moving.

Bobby sees Pat sitting with his mom. His back is towards Sandy and Bobby, but he nods his head at whatever his mom says. Sandy deposits Bobby in a corner, and tells him to “wait there and don’t move,” before making her way over to the pair.

He debates slipping away, now that Sandy’s back is turned, but he’s frozen instead, helplessly watching the scene unfold in front of him. From what he can see, Sandy puts a hand on Pat’s shoulder, greeting his mom, who smiles at her. Patrick’s looking up at her, and she briefly addresses him before pulling him up. Bobby’s heart is beating wildly in his body, and he swallows as Sandy brushes off the shoulders of Pat’s suit before leading him toward Bobby.

“Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty, you gave her your sweater, it's just polyester, but you like her better, I wish I were Heather…”

Patrick catches sight of Bobby before the pair is in front of him, and Bobby finds himself mesmerized by Patrick. When they stop, Sandy waits for a beat or two, and exits, aiming a pointed glance at Bobby, the meaning of which he is able to immediately decipher. She’s telling him to confess. That thought sends him into a state of panic, and he blushes, not sure what to do or say.

“Hey.” Is the first thing to come out of his mouth, and he considers literally face-palming. Instead, however, Bobby watches Patrick’s face scrunch up.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” Bobby flinches at the emotion underneath the question. He never meant to hurt Patrick, never thought he was.

But now he knows better. “I thought you liked Sandy, I was trying to stay out of the way so you could tell her.” Pat looks taken aback by Bobby’s confession.

“I don’t….” Pat starts to say something, but trails off, looking slightly confused.

Bobby breathes in, stomach knotting and unknotting over and over as he debates saying it. He closes his eyes. “I like you.” Those three words stop everything. Bobby’s mind goes still, and he knows it’s impossible, but he swears it feels as though his heart has stopped.

His hands drop to his sides—funny, he didin’t remember lifting them to begin with— and looks to the side, away from Patrick. He struggles—and fails—to keep a couple of tears from escaping, and he brushes them off, sniffing. “It’s okay, though. You should talk to the person you like.” He starts to back away, back hitting the wall behind him.

“Wish I were Heather, wish I were Heather…”

“Bobby, you should’ve told me—” Pat starts, grabbing the shorter of the two and wraps his arms around Bobby. “I was trying to figure out how to tell you that I liked you.”

Bobby’s confused. Patrick likes him? “Wait what?” Bobby smartly asks. Patrick breathes in, and exhales before responding. Bobby supposes he’s thinking about what to say.

“I like you too. I’ve been hanging out with Sandy to get advice on how to tell you. I–we—eventually decided I should do it tonight, at prom.” Bobby doesn’t realize how tightly he’s holding onto Patrick, he’s too focused on listening to what’s being said.

He breathes in, and is surrounded by the scent of Patrick, Hot Topic’s Sugar Cookie scent. Bobby knows Pat would never admit to shopping there, so around the holidays, when they release the scent, Bobby buys a ton for Pat just in case he should run out. “I would never just stop hanging out with you.”

“Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty…”

“Sorry,” Bobby mutters, knowing Pat will hear it. “I should’ve asked if everything was alright instead of assuming and hiding. Especially since we've been best friends since birth."

Patrick shakes his head, and after a minute, both feel as though the hug has branched into the awkward category.

Bobby decides it's probably rude to not say hi to Patrick's mom, and when he brings that up to Pat, his best friend (who likes him back?) offers an arm with a goofy grin. Bobby takes this in stride, placing his hand on the inside of Patrick's elbow, trying to match with an equally enthusiastic grin. The pair set off towards the table Mrs. Starr is sitting at, finding Sandy chatting with her.

"Hey Mrs. Starr! Hey-a Sandy." Bobby leans down to hug Patrick's mother.

"Bobby and I were gonna dance." He tugs Bobby over to the floor, and Bobby waves at the two, sending a smile their way.

"Pat, I can't dance." Bobby mutters, but he wraps his arms around Patrick's neck anyways. In return, the taller of the two places his hands at Bobby's waist, tentatively, as though not sure whether Bobby was fine with it.

The contact sent a shiver down Bobby's back, stepping closer to Patrick. "Sure you can, anyone can dance, really." Patrick snorts softly, and Bobby elects to leave the matter, leaning his head on Pat's shoulder.

"You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester..."

"So," Pat begins saying something, and Bobby peacefully listens. "Would you like to go with me tomorrow and get ice cream in the park?” Bobby leans away, playfully grinning at Pat.

“Is that a date?” Bobby laughs a little, knowing the answer already. Pat punches Bobby lightly on the shoulder.

“You know it is.” Bobby can’t resist leaning up on his toes and placing a chaste kiss on Patrick’s cheek. When he pulls back, he’s delighted to see the faint pink blush on his companion’s cheek.

And if anyone were to ask him, he definitely did not squeal when Patrick picked him up and spun him around.

“But you like her better, wish I were…”

#patbob #spongerick #spongebob #patrick #sandy #mr krabs #squidward #spongebob the musical

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savnofilter · 4 years

Text

hey guys, i just wanted to speak up about something because i have been getting questions if i was well and stuff and im not really sure these days. mainly because i have become uncomfortable on this blog.

and i beg that people who dont like me, please do not spread things about me please or this because i thought i owe this to my followers.

the reason as to why i feel uncomfortable is because it really dawned upon me that being here doesnt make me happy anymore. and you could see in how flat my writing has become, or how my behavior often changes from happy to sad/low in a quick second.

and since after the summer, being on here has been almost terrible for me. like i use to have many friends, many people i talked to or felt like i created a bond with a lifetime, just kind of up and left me in the dust. while i finally took the time to focus on me for once, they used it against me, they got mad at me and its just hard to keep quiet about since it has always been my goal to talk about my feelings and now i dont think i can anymore, as to why im writing this to you guys tonight..

i will not get into depth (or specific) about it because i feel like the more i try to explain myself, the more twisted it becomes. and instead of helping me, it hurts me.

over the few months, i found when i was taking breaks to be happier.

and its not the thought of you guys, it was more of like the lingering feeling of the way i was treated by people lingering on my blog. and im afraid if i feel like this still holds truth, i will be leaving this blog sooner or later.

in truth, i feel like ive been mistreated or even to the point where my feelings were so construed that it felt like i have been gaslighted over and over and over again. and honestly i am not as mentally or emotionally mature as many people on here, and some of them know that but it was never regarded.

im sad that this experience has come to this, because i really loved interacting, interacting with everyone and sharing my stories, but with the bad experiences on here has even turned my love/passion for writing down -- and even watching anime. i feel reminded every time i see certain blogs all over my feed, or like “hey im safe with these group of people” then they would pop up again. i felt like im some sort of villain or like an unintelligent-idiot who cant think for themselves. and while people who brainlessly follow those people can blindly hate me is fine, because i will never change who i am for anyone. ever. and i hate having to make posts like these because i feel bad for being so angsty and not being the sav that you guys know because while the brand “savnofilter” or “sav” is an extension of me, i sometimes feel so detached because of how shut out ive fell in this fandom for like 5 months now.

and i sincerely apologize to any new followers, i use to not be this down all the time but it really has been brought to my attention that the only social media that has heightened my anxiety, my depression, and even a part of illnesses i thought went away has resurfaced all because of what has happened associated to this blog.

whether it be being shut out and begging for help from the people i thought would be friends, or that i was kicked to the curve simply because i was not in the right state of mind and basically told me it was my fault for being that way.

and when it was fun, when i had friends it never felt like a chore for me on here. but as i lose support like that, it just hurts even though i have someone who stays beside me all the time. once you lose that, that, ground you start to compare yourself, like normal human nature i think. i started too look at my blog and be like “why arent i getting as much as before, what am i doing wrong, what is so bad about my stuff thats good with theres”. and part of the factor was that its odd, because it wasnt even a place of jealousy. it was one of, how did i fall to be so unimportant? so... immaterial. and it was like, each writer i fell out with, everyone just followed them and im left here trying my best to fill in their spots because i missed having that friend group, or friends with me. the only who really cared for me even with the biggest arguments and hoenstly it was because they were the only the one that cared for me. and i am not trying to cause discourse so please do not contact other people about this.

and as much as i stay at this point to irk the people who want me gone, i feel like the subtle unintentional (or intentional) bad vibes being brought to me is choking me up. and its doing well.

it just, it was so odd being treated like actual shit. like dog dooky shit. like if i was the poop on the sidewalk that you walk around and wonder who fucking took that massive shit, shit. and i was afraid to speak up about it because i was afraid of the backlash id get for having fucking feelings.

from someone who went through some shit when i was younger, and built this barrier, to being repeatedly told over and over again that my feelings are invalid, to have people to tell me “i wont do that too you” and then do it to me just made me grow as a person. or die as a person. im not sure yet.

not only was it a mixture of people leaving me for shitty reasons, it was how stupid this fandom got. yeah, stupid. completely idiotic. of course there are people who sense-ful(?) and i love you a lot for it. but like ive said before, its unfair, there is no love like there use to be. people arent how they use to be. people put on a show, but once behind close doors its completely different. and if youre thinking of anyone in specific, youve got some shit to reevaluate.

i was so scared to talk about it before because i was so scared at the backlash id get because i was so tired for being the hurt one and being called the bad guy. and im not blind to me being a bitch, but when i feel like ive done something im upfront about it. im rambling but this happens when i finally let my thoughts out.

and if ive been truthful, ive fallen out of my routine with meeting up with my therapist which may one of the reasons i let it run on this long without really getting a clear conscience. and like ive said before, i had thought it had to do with my life but honestly the only grief i get is being on here.

to be honest, i have projects and requests i really want to complete before i even leave. so maybe its a while before i leave, maybe if it gets too much i’ll just go. i do not know. but 2020 is the year i finally want to take my own health over everyone else before i did before. and even with how hurt i am, i still hold so much love for these people. so much. but ive always been too loyal.

i am sorry for this sorrowful note, but i do not know how much longer i will stay. i love you all, have a blessed night.

#sav talks

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rainywritingsx · 4 years

Text

Request: Can I get a bnha matchup please? ;u; I'm a transman, 165 cm, 20 and bi/pan with no gender preference. I'm usually quiet/reserved, monotone/boring when spoken to, but once a subject of interest is brought up, or when im with someone I'm comfy with, my personality does a 180 - I'm loud, sarcastic, and annoying. My sense of humor is all over the place lol Ive been told that I'm "old in spirit" bc I'm really mature when I need to be, even if most of the time I act like I'm 5 lmaoo

I'm pretty chill for the most part, idc what u do as long as it's not hurting anybodyhdjdh im also rlly stubborn but a huge pushover, dunno how that works. I'm both carefree and a worrywart (to both others and myself) and I typically hold my emotions in cause I don't wanna bother others. I try to help others 24/7, even if it affects me negatively. Uhh physically speaking im a lot stronger then look, and I own literally no nice clothes lol its all graphic Ts, cargo pants and hoodies for me

I'm a huge ass nerd when it comes to anything science related, especially paleontology + herpetology. I love all animals (no phobias) and I have 3 snakes whom I adore. I also like to draw and write occasionally. I have severe MDD and SAD, so even with meds I can have really bad depressive episodes and/or panic attacks. This is getting super long so I'll stop now fjfkh thank you !! Sorry if I repeated info I got a shit memory

Before I start, I personally have no experience with MDD or SAD, but I did look up both disorders and I hope that what I wrote about them is okay. If you’d like to correct me, please feel free to do so ^^

I’m sorry that this is so long lol, but I wanted to discuss as many things you noted as possible ^^ Hope you enjoy it!! ^^

Reminder that as of right now, requests are closed!

I ship you wiiiith

Hawks!

Your personality reminds me of a rainbow in a way? So, I feel like Hawks would never ever find a day boring with you! Since he has this whole thing of people calling him fast etc, I lowkey get the idea that that also applies to his personal relationships, so having someone with so many fun personality traits is perfect for him.

I think Hawks is mature in a way, just like you are. I mean, he started his own agency at 18 and a few years later he is the number 3 Hero, that definitely does something to you. So I think it’s nice to him that you are the same, while also remaining carefree most of the time. It makes his busy and serious life a bit more fun.

Your chill attitude is yet another thing Hawks loves, since he wants to be that way as well. Also, with his job, he most likely can’t always tell you everything about it for safety reasons. As for whether it’s hurting people… He can’t always promise you he won’t do that, but he will let you know it’s always with good intentions. Villains can’t always be defeated with just talking to them.

It kind of warms his heart when you are worried about him. I don’t think Hawks is really the type to fall in love easily, so if he had any relationships before meeting you they may not always have been genuine. While part of him likes it, he also doesn’t want you to worry. He always promises to come back, and it does make him a bit more careful when patrolling, because the last thing he wants to do is upset his wonderful boyfriend.

Now, when it comes to you keeping in your emotions, this is where it gets a bit difficult. I don’t know exactly how much time you two will be able to spend together, so he may not always be able to be there for you when you’re having a hard time. However, while Hawks appears to be chill, he’s also smart and analytic and notices when you are feeling down. He won’t force you to tell him what is wrong as he knows it’s hard for you, but he does reassure you that you’d never ever bother him and he will always listen to whatever you have to say. However, if it seems to go on for a long time, he might push you a bit more, simply because he knows keeping it in won’t do any good. But also here he can tell when it really gets too much, so if you still won’t tell him, he will be a little hurt, but definitely stop.

He thinks you’re the sweetest person ever, but he also worries about your well-being at times. If he sees you absolutely exhausted but still telling him everything is fine, he will just scoop you up and go somewhere so you can relax for a bit. Sorry not sorry :p

He thinks it’s kinda hot that you’re stronger than you may seem heh, like if you work out or just do something that requires strength and he sees it, he might make a flirty remark about it and appear chill but on the inside he lowkey panics because uhm what how is his boyfriend so attractive???? explain?

I don’t think Hawks cares that much about what you wear really, if you feel comfortable in it that’s all that matters. You could literally wear a potato sack and he will think you’re the most attractive person on the planet. He might even spoil you a little by buying you hoodies and other clothing which he knows you would love. And no, he won’t let you give it back, it’s yours.

I can’t really see Hawks being super interested in paleontology or herpetology, but he won’t mind you rambling about those things to him! While he might not always focus 100% on what you’re actually saying, he will study your face, smiling at how your eyes are lighting up and your lips are curled in a happy smile as you go on and on about it. If you catch him not listening to you, he will just make a remark related to your beauty, partly to see how you react and partly because he genuinely means it.

So you love animals? Bird boi is perfect for you, now he sees why you fell for him ;). He definitely likes birds, i don’t think he particularly adores any animals but I can see him strongly disliking some mammals like cats and dogs (I think these sometimes eat birds sooooo yeah..) He definitely thinks your snakes are pretty cool.

Hawks doesn’t seem like much of a reader, but he would definitely love to see your drawings! He thinks every single one of them is super awesome, and if you ever give one to him, he will definitely make sure it gets a special place in his house, a place where he can look at it easily whenever he misses you or just feels like it.

As for your MDD and SAD, at first Hawks will be clueless on how he can help you out. If you have a depressive episode that causes you to isolate yourself, he will definitely force you to go outside. It could be just walking to his place, or taking you on a nice flight at night over the city. Afterwards, he will bring you to your favourite restaurant or buy you food that he knows you love. You will also definitely be showered in lots of love and affection. If you’re uncomfortable with PDA however, he will only do it when you two are alone. He will also joke around and flirt with you just to see you smile, but if he sees it doesn’t help he will stop.

Same goes with your anxiety attacks, at first he’s completely lost on what to do. Hawks isn’t stupid of course, but he’s aware that every person is different. If he finds out about this before you have an attack, he will ask you what would help you in situations like that. However, if this happens without him knowing about it at all, he can recognise what’s happening and will do his best to get you to calm down first before talking about it with you. Hawks may not always seem like the most serious guy, but when it comes to you he’s dead serious and always careful.

So, you’d be very lucky to have someone like him by your side :) Once Hawks is in a relationship, he will give his all. And any moment with him is definitely far from boring

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whumpernickel · 4 years

Text

so, i finally actually wrote something. i already posted this on ao3, but i was too nervous to share it here until id also finished this other fic i was writing, cuz i like that one a lot better than this one. and since i finished that second one, i figured id share both!

so heres the first work ive shared probably since i was thirteen: some needlessly angsty and sappy post episode-6 witcher fanfic because i have no shame (thats a lie) and zero self-control

Jaskier and Geralt had gone for much longer than this without seeing each other, but this had somehow felt like their longest time spent apart ever. He'd been anxious to see Jaskier – eager, almost. But... their greeting had been awkward, tense, brief- nothing Jaskier ever said was brief -and Geralt felt no small amount of fear at what any of this meant. It made the hairs at the back of his neck rise like a stalked animal's.

It was wrong.

There was so much unspoken, unaddressed, and hanging in the air over them, Geralt could feel it nearly tangible. For once, Geralt broke the silence first.

"What I said... before," he began, noting the way Jaskier tensed. "I know it was wrong."

Jaskier cleared his throat uncomfortably. "No. No, it uh..." he swallowed, "it wasn't."

"It was-"

"No," he insisted more firmly. "Trust me, I've had a lot of time and space to reflect on this, and you weren't wrong – I was stupidly selfish. With the djinn, with the betrothal celebration, with Yen, with... just everything, every one of those times. I was acting only for myself, and no one else, and bad things happened to good people for it. You wouldn't be in such a horrific fucking mess right now if not for- if I had just thought first, for one fucking second in my life. I never think, and..." He took a measured, steadying breath. "Well, I can't imagine I could ever deserve your forgiveness, but, at the very least, you deserve my apology." He met Geralt's eyes now. "And I am sorry. I truly am, Geralt."

Geralt expected to feel some kind of relief at the eye-contact, at the sound of his name spoken once again in his friend's voice, a blessed familiarity after months without it. And it was still there, that vague feeling of home in each other when neither of them really had much of a home otherwise, but it was tainted. The burdened remorse in Jaskier's words turned any sweetness Geralt might have found in them sour. He frowned.

"You... Jaskier, you don't deserve my forgiveness."

Jaskier winced and turned his attention purposefully to the floorboards.</p>

"I know-"

"No, I don't think you do know." Geralt grabbed Jaskier by the shoulders and ducked his head to intercept the man's averted gaze. "You've done nothing that warrants apology."

Jaskier gave an uncomfortable laugh and fidgeted under the attention. "...Okay, I think we both know that's not true – There are reasons- and some admittedly valid ones -that I'm banned from certain taverns, villages, kingdoms- I mean, no amount of lute-playing-"

"You know what I mean."

"Well, yes, but I don't understand it."

Jaskier met his eyes evenly, now, as if daring Geralt to try to rationalize it to him and certain he was placing a bet he couldn't lose.

Geralt felt his chest ache – guilt, confusion; worst of all, pity. He hated seeing pity thrown his way, and so he hated pitying others, especially anyone that meant something. But he couldn't help the twinge of pain at the realization that some part of Jaskier had believed Geralt up on that mountain all those months ago. Geralt knew better than anyone that the only way you could so comfortably and unquestioningly accept the poison fed to you by others was if you were already drinking the same poison from your own hand and calling it "water." He couldn't bear to imagine his so-spirited, so-confident friend doing this, but the evidence was there.

"I shouldn't have said the things I said," Geralt asserted. "They're not true."

Jaskier's eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, and he started to shake his head.

"Jaskier, I'm sor-"

"Please don't."

It was fragile and small, and Geralt almost questioned if it had actually been spoken aloud at all.

"Jas-"

"No, you- you can't take it back now," Jaskier said more audibly, shoving at Geralt's arms in a weak attempt to force some distance between them, "I was just starting to get over y- to... to get over what happened. And, if you take it back, now, then- then... Just don't take it back."

"I can't do this without..."

"Yes, actually, you can." Jaskier's face lit up hopefully, desperately. "You have."

"I don't want to."

"Then find someone."

Someone.

Geralt hadn't just meant he couldn't do this alone. Though he couldn't, of course – but that didn't matter, because he wasn't alone, anymore. Yet, even as not-alone as he was, he still didn't feel whole.

A huff of frustration forced its way out of his nose. How was he supposed to say any of that?

"Who?" Geralt intended it to be rhetorical, but Jaskier took the question at face-value and barreled on.

"Yennefer!- What about Yennefer?" he offered eagerly, "Of Vengerberg?" as if there were any question as to which Yennefer he meant, "Surely you two have made up by now, I mean even I'll admit you're somewhat of a power couple – but, y'know, extra emphasis on 'power.' Or- Or if not, then Téa? You seemed to like her and her man-killing prowess, yes?- I mean, I sure did, her and Véa, whoo, they are... terrifying. I'm sure they must take some time off from Borch-guarding, no? No, you're right, probably not. Then how about the child surprise- they are your destiny, after all, you're welcome for that – Or, if you're looking for a bard, specifically, there are plenty of others – not as good as me of course, but decent enough- I know a guy who-"

"Jaskier."

"What? No good? I mean, I suppose you could always put out an ad-"

"Jask."

Jaskier's nervous rambling died off in a shaky breath that sounded like it was meant to be a laugh, and he turned his full attention back to Geralt cautiously. His forced smile wavered at the soft sobriety in Geralt's expression.

Geralt dropped his hands from Jaskier's arms and took half a step back, ignoring his fear at giving the man enough space to walk away again.

"If you really mean it," Geralt stressed, "then I will leave you alone." A selfish something inside of him twisted at hearing the words out loud, but he let them hang in the air anyway, committed to respecting whatever answer Jaskier gave next.

"...Alright."

"Do you mean it?"

The silence that followed was more stifling than any yet that Geralt had had to endure in the bard's absence. Heavy and air-stealing.

Despite the uncertain pause, there was a sudden sureness on Jaskier's face that scared Geralt, and he instinctively braced himself as Jaskier opened his mouth to answer.

"No."

Geralt exhaled in silent relief. He hadn't noticed the breath caught in his chest until the moment he released it. He composed himself quickly; a show of weakness could probably help his case dramatically in winning back Jaskier's companionship, but it was tough enough showing as much vulnerability as he already had. Unlearning such a habit as ingrained into him as this one was like tearing a security blanket away from a homesick toddler, and the homesick toddler in Geralt was already veering dangerously into tantrum territory.

Despite the vulnerability of all this, he felt a noticeable lightness in his chest. Jaskier didn't hate him enough to never want to see him again – that was something. He'd take what he could get and he'd take it gladly.

He was trying to figure out what to say next – Geralt felt cursed, sometimes, with only being lightning-quick with his response if it was a wounding insult or a wordless grunt – but Jaskier figured it out before he did.

"Did you mean it?" he turned Geralt's question back on him.

Geralt blinked. "Did...?"

Jaskier looked at him pointedly.

"Oh."

Geralt felt shame and regret draw his shoulders up toward his ears, and he looked away.

"I... I thought I did," he admitted.

"I thought you did, too."

"I'm... sorry, Jaskier, I... You..." The words still wouldn't come to him.

Geralt didn't do words, but even he could see that there weren't many he could use to fix something that clearly went deeper than just some hurtful accusations thrown carelessly about on a godsforsaken mountaintop somewhere.

He shut his mouth, frowned.

Caring was so much more complicated than he always feared it would be. It wasn't just kill the monster, claim the reward, and go on pretending it didn't matter to him what happened after he left, anymore. The stakes were higher, more personal. This kind of care wasn't the kind that was a whole town of faces where none grabbed his attention long enough to be committed to memory, it was individual faces that he knew and recognized, faces that meant something – and this face was Jaskier's, one of the faces that meant the most. He wanted to reach out and erase the worried furrow between his brows, the tired shadows under his eyes, the modest handful of scars he'd amassed over the years traveling with Geralt.

But he'd leave the crow's feet – those held mostly happy memories.

Jaskier was one of those few people he so desperately wanted in his life, but wished didn't have to experience the hurt of it all.

"Jaskier, you..."

The concept Geralt was still trying ever valiantly to skirt around was family. And his was so very small and fragile, he couldn't bear to lose one piece of it, not for anything...

"You should really meet Ciri," he decided.

Jaskier brightened at this, a small smile crinkling his eyes. "You found her," he said.

Geralt nodded, a smile of his own taking shape.

"Alright. Lead the way."

#the witcher #the witcher fic #jaskier #geralt #angst #this is just #more angst than im even comfortable with lol #but here take it #witcher spoilers #wrudy writes #im not sorry for that tag

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ottomanladies · 5 years

Text

Review: Kösem Sultan (İktidar Hırs ve Entrika) by Özlem Kumrular

my Goodreads rating: ★★☆☆☆ Positive parts: the extensive bibliography which made me discover more books that I now want to read Negative parts: her way of presenting information, the almost total absence of historiography reasoning and if present its weakness, the lack of more information in the notes section.

I am often asked what I think about this book, so I have finally picked it up. I'll admit I have not read it all: I have skipped paragraphs or even whole pages. I did not read chapter 3, “Valide Sultan in the Old Palace: Mustafa I, Osman II and again the reign of Mustafa I”, because I have read in a review that it is not really about Kösem... and I was not interested.

I must say I am very disappointed. I don’t know if I had high standards or what, but it really wasn’t what I expected. I thought it was academia but it may have actually been popular history. I hope it’s popular history at this point, because it doesn’t seem like academia at all. Information is just presented like that, there are no explanations about how the author reached her conclusions-- which is something that I love reading about in historiography books, as someone who wants to do this job.

On the other hand, I deeply appreciated the research she did for this book: she drew from Spanish, Turkish and Italian archives, and books in english are listed in the bibliography as well. I particularly liked that she used Pedani as one of her sources in harem matters, it made me very happy as an Italian. Unfortunately, she did not transcribe the quotes she got from ambassadorial reports; this doesn’t allow you to check her translation, which is something that is very dear to me.

[very long rambling ahead-- I am so sorry]

As for her more unconventional claims: that Ahmed I had married Kösem and that şehzades Selim and Orhan were two of Kösem’s children, I was not satisfied with her reasoning. Her claims rest on a letter that - apparently - was sent to Venice on Kösem’s orders when Murad IV ascended the throne; it was found in the archives of Venice and it was in Ottoman Turkish. Kumrular included a translation in Latin Alphabet in her book of the important passages. [you can look at it here: x]:

“His generous mother Kösem, for the dead Sultan Ahmed, whom Allah took with him, was a very important person and the Sultan loved her so much that he honoured her by marrying her. In addition to the ruling sultan, she has two younger sons named Sultan Selim and Sultan Orhan.”

Now, Kumrular claims that the prince Selim who was born in 1611 to Ahmed was the son of another concubine, and that this is another Prince Selim. She explains the absence of Kasim and Ibrahim (who were clearly very much alive) saying that Venice probably already knew that they existed... it’s a little weird. Historian Erhan Afyoncu says that Selim and Orhan may have been Kasim and Ibrahim’s other names, but Kumrular answers this by saying that no source mentions that they had more than one name. Which is true but I remembered when I read some Venetian ambassadorial reports back in November, and Giovanni Cappello in 1634 clearly calls Murad IV’s younger brother “Orcan”:

“Tiene Sua Maestà due figliuoli nell'infanzia, d'incerta riuscita. Ha due fratelli, li quali, non ostante l'uso contrario della morte nell'assunzione degli Imperatori, vivono tuttavia; il maggiore di nome Orcan è in età di anni 19 con concetto di buon talento. Il Re sovente seco tratta con umanità, permettendogli la barba, privilegio riserbato alla sola persona del Re in serraglio...” “His Majesty has two sons in infancy, uncertain in survival. He has two brothers who - contrary to the tradition of putting them to death on the emperors’ ascension - nevertheless live; the eldest named Orcan is 19 years old with a good intellect. The King often treats him with kindness, allowing him to grow a beard, a privilege reserved to the only person of the King in the Serraglio...”

At the time I thought that it was a simple mistake of Cappello’s, who misunderstood “Kasim” (I mean, Mihrimah was called Cameria in Italy so everything is possible at this point), but maybe he did not and he was right? Maybe Kasim was truly called Orhan Kasim or Kasim Orhan? Cappello says that in 1634 he was 19 years old, which means that he was born in 1615-- a date often attributed to Kasim’s birth.

While he mistakes Orcan for the eldest of Murad IV’s brothers (Bayezid was in fact the eldest, being born only a couple of months after Murad IV), we cannot simply distrust his whole testimony.

It is sad that Kumrular did not read this relazione (or did not find it useful to her book) because I would have liked to see her conclusions.

About Kösem’s marriage, her reasoning is... pretty weak, in my opinion: she first says that the letter must have been written on Kösem’s orders, who knew that official wives had a great importance in Europe so she could have said that just to enhance her status.... but then says that it is unlikely that she outright lied in a state document:

“It is obvious that Kösem, in front of a country as important as Venice, wanted to mark the legality of her position. Emphasizing that she is the wife of the deceased ruler and the praises directed at her were aimed at raising her relationship with the Venetian state, gaining respect for her and therefore listening to her words.”

To be honest, the claim that Venetians would have looked down a non-married consort is out of the world; they had entertained relations with the Ottomans for two centuries at that point and they very much knew that Ottoman sultans did not frequently get married.

Moreover, there is no proof that this letter was sanctioned by Kösem herself. It was written by one Mustafa çavuş in 1624 (dated by Pedani), who says that it is the second time he is sent to Venice as an Ottoman emissary. It is certainly strange that in it he claims that Murad IV is fifteen years old, which he definitely was not. At the end of the letter he says that the rest will be included in the letters penned by the Sultan and the Grand Vizier. Unfortunately, either these letters did not surive or Kumrular did not read them... she did not explain it in the book.

In any case, she attributes mistakes to the person who actually wrote the letter (high-ranking women dictated their letters) which is... rather convenient, I guess.

The rest of the book is just a narration of Kösem’s life. There is so much she doesn’t look at in depth and at the end of every section I was not satisfied with the amount of information given. There was always something lacking, I felt like there was more she could have said but for some reason didn’t.

The book is 336 pages long and at the end you’re left with only the surface of Kösem’s life. It was more like reading an - admittedly long - Wikipedia article than a biography.

Unfortunately this book was not very reviewed by her peers, which is a shame. I could only find one review, by Hüseyin Çalış (who is apparently a member of the Izmir Katip Celebi University), who says that the book sometimes seems like a novel and that there are deficiencies in it but that all in all is a good contribution to Ottoman historiography, considered that it was written in just one year.

I am not sure I agree with his positive view of this book. I didn’t feel satisfied when each topic was over, it felt like she was just listing events happening - most of them not about Kösem - with no reasoning behind. I am also disappointed that the notes section is very poor of information; she did not add anything in it except the titles of the books she had drawn her info from-- often they were books which contradicted her own claims but she did not explain that.

The bibliography part was very rich, though, and this is what I most appreciated about this book. I have written down a couple of books I want to read, among them: Murat Kocaaslan - Kösem Sultan. Hayatı, vakıfları, hayır işleri ve Üsküdar’daki külliyesi, which I think may be better than this book altogether. I had the chance of reading a chapter of his book about Mehmed IV and it’s more academia than Kumrular’s: better written, better researched, better noted as well.

In conclusion (I am so sorry this got way too long, I was supposed to write just a couple of things about this book), maybe it’s my fault but it truly was not what I thought it would be and I am not sure I will buy her book about Nurbanu and Safiye after all. I personally prefer pure academia compared to... whatever this was (half and half? who knows)

If you can’t stand academia, though, and want something... lighter? maybe this book will be for you. It certainly looked like popular history sometimes.

#ottoman history #ottomanladies reviews #kumrular: kosem sultan #long post

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