A friend of mine recently bought a second hand laptop from a busy garage sale, the seller said that the thing won’t turn on. Being the nerd that he is, my friend got it working and found a strange letter saved on it. He mailed it to me after I asked him if I could share it here. So here goes:
I’m writing to you to tell you that I know everything that you do not want me to know. I know you must dread hearing this- especially coming from me, but I really need you to listen to what I have to say.
I'm trying to be serious, and warn you. The bible says: You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination. (Leviticus 18:22) If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them. (Leviticus 20:13) Homosexuality is revolting. I like your art. I wish you'd stop condoning such awful things when you have other brilliant things to bring forward. Please take my warning from God.
Request: can you do a derek hale imagine where the reader
and derek are taking care of a baby for some reason and and derek doesn’t
really know what to do but the reader does and its really fluffy and stuff
Requested by: Anon
Word count: 636
“Derek” I whisper, “someone’s at the door.” Derek lets out a
“I can smell him from here, it’s just Stiles.” He replies,
rolling over in the bed and pulling me into his chest. “Just leave him.”
“It’s one in the morning, it has to be somewhat important for
him to be rocking up here.” Derek opens one of his eyes and looks at me.
“If I answer him, will you stop bugging me?” he jokes, chucking
a shirt on.
“Maybe, depends how I’m feeling.” I say, smirking at him.
Derek makes his way towards the front door, me close behind. As he gets close
he looks back.
“Someone’s with him, I can smell the scent.” He burrows his
eyebrows in confusion.
“Who is it?” I question, curiosity getting the best of me.
“I don’t know, I’ve never smelt this scent before.” Stiles
knocks on the door again, this time louder and more forceful.
“I know you two are in there! Stop screwing each other and
open the door!” He yells. Derek pulls the door wide open greasing the boy off.
“Stiles why do you have a baby?” I ask, raising an eyebrow
at him, “who did you steal her from?” I put my hands on my hips in a disapproving
“No time to explain, I will later, just do me a favour and
watch her for a bit” he quickly shoves the very little girl into a very un-expecting
Derek’s arms. If it weren’t for Derek’s quick reflexes I would have been
worried that he was going to drop her. “Thanks! I owe you guys!” Stiles shouts
as he quickly scurries away.
I look over at Derek and burst into a fit of laughter. He
held the baby an arm’s length away from his body.
“That’s not how you hold her.” I laugh, making my way
towards him. I slowly push the baby towards Derek’s chest.
“Can’t you hold her?” he pleads. I give Derek a sad look.
“What? Sourwolf doesn’t know how to take care of a baby? Does
he need a human to tell him what to do?” I say in a mocking tone while smirking
at him. Derek growls at me in response, startling the baby and causing her to
begin to cry.
Derek’s eyes grow wide and he frantically looks at me.
“What do I do?” he whispers, I roll my eyes and take the baby
from him. I have never in my life seen Derek Hale be so gentle with something. He
was acting as if the baby was glass and he was going to break her.
I gently rocked the baby in my arms, swaying her side to
“Just like this.” I smile, as the baby girl begins to calm
down. “Your turn.” I give the baby back to him. Derek copies my actions and I suddenly
feel a wave of baby fever. Seeing Derek so caring and soft with a baby almost
made me jump him right there.
“You seriously feeling like that at a time like this?” Derek
smirks, getting more confident with the baby. I roll my eyes and walk away.
“You seem to have this under control, I’m going to sleep.” I
walk off and Derek quickly but carefully walks behind me.
“You can’t go to sleep, what if she needs to be changed? Or is
hungry?” He says, as I get back into my bed.
“Can you two shut up please? I was just trying to enjoy my sleep
but-“ Peter cuts himself off when he says Derek holding a baby.
“How-How long was I asleep for?” He asks, looking at us in
“9 months, y/n had gave birth 3 days ago.” Derek replies,
blankly looking at Peter. Derek puts his hand to his head, rubbing it in
(All my information’s from “The hidden springs of slavery and oppression”: Slavery and abolitionism in Connecticut)
After the war Tallmadge moved to Litchfield and established a mercantile business. As he grew richer, he began to purchase slaves.
In 1784, he purchased a boy named Prince, aged 7, and in 1785 he bought a boy named Ebo. In 1787 he made his last slave purchase - a 13 year old girl named Jane.
Tallmadge also hired slaves. In 1788 he hired Cash Africa for the summer, and after her service expired he hired a girl named Abigail for one year. In exchange for her labour, he paid her owner, Ruth Woodhull, a total sum of four pounds.
At this time he was unopposed to slavery, and had no problems with purchasing or hiring slaves. However, through the evangelising of Lyman Beecher, Tallmadge became a deep convert to congregationalism. He began to support colonisation, a movement whose goal was to purchase slaves from masters and send the newly manumitted to the African colony of Liberia where they could convert Africans to Christianity.
Tallmadge also began to oppose slavery on the national scale. He both praised religious conversions happening in Litchfield and condemned actions of congress in allowing slavery.
Tallmadge’s commitment to the abolition of slavery came at a time of drastic decline of slavery both locally in Litchfield and throughout Connecticut. Primarily due to the Gradual Emancipation Law of 1784, slavery in Connecticut began to lose its financial appeal.
By 1800, only seven slaves for life were owned within Litchfield, the rest falling under the Gradual Emancipation Act to be freed on their twenty-first birthday. The last slave emancipated in Litchfield was believed to be Tom Jackson, a slave of Benjamin Tallmadge about whom little evidence survives.
Another year lived! Another year ALIVE. These days I don’t think so much about aging; I think about surviving. It’s been quite a year for me (and maybe eventually I’ll go into detail, because I do think there’s value in sharing), but I’m in a much, much better place than I was on this exact day last year. Here’s to another year of moving forward. To living, to being alive. :)
psa. i want to roleplay against your muses who most people over look. i want to roleplay against your little hidden gems who never get enough attention. i want to roleplay against your first draft muses and watch them turn into the final copy. i want to roleplay against the muses who have a different backstory, the muses with underused face claims, the muses who aren’t good people, the muses who are possibly too good. the muses that you feel like are neglected… let me love them.
alexander rose asking (and i’m paraphrasing on this one), “what self-respecting actor would really want to wear those wigs?” was priceless. nick was first to respond with, “no one.” ian followed with, “everyone.”
ian still has that wig, too. they joked it’s under his bed now.
when alex began asking the actors questions, he had to decide in which order they should go. they decided rank, but he still had to muse, “i could go with heather first. ladies first and all.” he paused, considered profusely… annnd carried on with ian.
they did mention the music featured on the show, but nothing of the releasing soundtracks, only how they went about choosing. that said, they were playing full tracks from the first three seasons before the panel began.
“love is patient, love is kind.” it was this verse, heather said, which was her inspiration for anna strong.
nick’s favorite scene was the rob/arnold moment from the season 3 finale. he thought it was beautifully written and exciting, knowing how robert would be risking his life once more.
ROBERT WILL EXPRESS HIS MOTIVES THIS SEASON. nick was excited for this, and rightfully so.
nick also went on to say rob has some of his best scenes this season with with james rivington and abraham woodhull. ngl, my heart soared.
alex posed the question of, if we were living in a alt universe where turn got another season, what would it be? of course a musical came up, thanks to hamilton, and someone pitched jamie’s dancing. nick was all nods and grins to that, then pitched his own: a buddy comedy. “like cheers, but with james and robert. he gives one-liners and robert grunts.”
Is it possible that we don't preserve all of Shakespeare's work nowadays? What if he wrote more plays than the ones we know of?
He actually did.
We know for a fact that there are missing plays because there are records of the plays having been published or performed. A guy called Francis Meres published a book called Palladis Tamia in 1598 which includes a list of the plays Shakespeare had written up to that point, the list contains a reference to a certain Love’s Labours Won, which is mentioned again in a book register belonging to the stationer Christopher Hunt in 1603. Some scholars suggest this is a sequel to Love’s Labours Lost, others think it might be the alternative title of an existing play. The RSC went with this second suggestion and performed Much Ado About Nothing under the title of Love’s Labours Won in 2014 as a companion play to Love’s Labour’s Lost.
The other lost play called Cardenio, performed by the King’s Men in 1613 (from surviving performance records). A record that claims its authors were Shakespeare and Fletcher survives in a Stationer’s Register from 1653. Of course, this can’t necessarily be trusted because of Shakespeare’s name-value and the lateness of the entry, but the idea that it was written by Fletcher and Shakespeare coheres with the other known performance date and details we have of the play. It’s been speculated that this play would have been about the lover Cardenio from Cervante’s Don Quixote,the first part of which was published in translation in England in 1612. There’s a play by Lewis Theobald called Double Falsehood that claims to be a version of Cardenio, supposedly based on manuscripts of the play. It’s completely possible that this is indeed true, and that Theobald re-wrote the play just like other Shakespeare plays were re-written in the restoration, but if it is true, then the manuscripts he based his version off has been lost. Many scholars recognise the claim behind Theobald’s work, and the Arden Shakespeare published Double Falsehood as part of their collection of Shakespeare’s works. More recently, Gary Taylor has written a version od Cardenio which attempts to imaginatively reconstruct what Shakespeare’s Cardenio would have been like. It’s being premiered in the UK right now.
In other lost plays, there’s also some speculation about the earlier Hamlet, generally referred to as Ur-Hamlet, which almost certainly existed and which some scholars attribute to Shakespeare. The more popular theory is that it was written by Thomas Kyd.
Although it’s possible that there are others, it’s actually quite unlikely that there are plays we don’t know about that have been lost because early modern print culture was fast-paced, extremely consumerist and therefore full of records. Once Shakespeare’s name started to sell, lots of dodgy printers slapped his name on anything vaguely plausible to try and sell it. This suggests that if there was anything out there he’d actually written, it would have been published, legally or illegally, and if not published, at least entered on a register that would have worked to give a printer copyright over the work. So even if the copies didn’t survive, there would be some reference to it somewhere, just as there is for Love’s Labours Won and Cardenio.
-A woman used the phrase “I’m slower than Christmas,” with no context. I do not know what the holiday ever did to her but she had no reason to bring religion into the matter.
-I met an older woman sporting a phenomenal combination of a bowl cut and a mullet. I call this look a bullet and I will be appropriating it as my own.
-As I was ringing up a guest as the only cashier in the store, a cantankerous ol’ coot yelled at me, demanding I open up another lane. Whether he wished for me to conjure up a new cashier or to man two lanes at once, I do not understand where the urgency came from as he was next in line.
-A young, cheery couple came through my lane, purchasing $100 of towels each to redecorate their bathrooms while qualifying for a $25 off sale. The first purchase came up to exactly $99.99. The second, $99.88. The man happily made several round-trips to the washcloth display to even things out, and I would like to publicly applaud them simply for being the most polite couple in heterosexual history.
-The sweetest five year-old girl insisted upon unloading her mother’s cart and running her mother’s debit card all on her own to prove that she knew how to. Her need for a stepladder aside, she has displayed a level of independence and ambition I will never know, and I admire her for this.
-As an elderly woman came through my lane and went to unload her cart, she realized that it was entirely empty. She shrugged and said, in an utterly matter-of-fact tone, “I guess I didn’t buy anything,” and walked away without a care in the world.
-A man in his seventies told me of his plans to train his honeybees to bring him honey and deposit it in the mason jars he was purchasing. I would like to know what his strategy for training them was, but more importantly, what he had been using his bees for up until this point.
-As I rang up a woman in her mid-fifties, I found a face-down DVD amidst her items. Curious, I turned it over. It was a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey. The shame in her eyes told me all that I needed to know. I returned the DVD to its face-down position.
-The elderly guests I find myself surrounded with each day inspire me to return to flip phones, because then I could dramatically flip it open with a stern, “Go for Tom,” and also because the Internet is a platform for sin.
-A young girl forged an armored gauntlet out of fast food containers. This ingenuity and resourcefulness will bode well for her in the oncoming battles.
-A woman in her sixties became panicked as loud music began to surround her. “What is that? What is going on up here?” she demanded. Distraught, she tried to flee the scene, to escape the music, but it followed her wherever she went. I looked on, aghast, unsure if I should tell her that her phone was going off.