#“such an unquiet person”

[hooked-on-elvis]

Elvis' Sword Cane ⚔️

Elvis On Tour (1972)

Watching the doc for the millionth time and I've only noticed this now. I wondered if EP's cane was actually a weapon... and it looks like I was right. Apparently, all of Elvis' canes were also swords... and he was making it clear onscreen. LOL.

Subtle message: "Don't f*** with me".

Source video: Reddit

Elvis and Vernon Presley in Buffalo, New York. April 5, 1972.

[tamaharu]

rose in the novelization is so funny. shes like god this dude is arrogant and stupid. i can tell hes waiting for me to ask him what hes doing so im not doing that. and shes correct because the doctor gets antsy two minutes later and tells her what hes doing.

[dougielombax]

The Unquiet Dead was technically a Dr Who Christmas special if you think about it.

I mean it’s also not.

It was broadcast in April of 2005. The story just happens to be set in December of 1869 but still.

Idk.

[weedle-testaburger]

i love nine and rose sm but i just realised this is technically a neg and i hate it

[fantastic-nonsense]

Things Kaz canonically does in the two years between Crooked Kingdom and Rule of Wolves:

(presumably) massively expands the Dregs' territory

buys Pekka's old club (the Emerald Palace) and completely renovates it, turning it into The Silver Six

massively expands the Crow Club to the point where it's "three times the size of every other establishment on the block"

builds an underground tunnel that goes from the Crow Club to the Geldstraat, where the Van Eck Mansion is

takes Jesper out on jobs with him often enough that Wylan has jokingly banned Jesper from answering the door when he knocks

learns about Ketterdam's Suli laborers and picks up additional knowledge of Suli culture

keeps up with Inej's whereabouts and helps her take out slavers

expands his information network to the Kerch colonies

is on friendly enough terms with the King of Ravka that he taught Nikolai how to pick locks and Nikolai feels comfortable personally writing him a letter when he needs to steal the titanium from Kerch

disguises himself just to follow people around on the streets

was planning to steal the titanium from the military base anyway just for fun

And that's just the stuff we see from Nikolai's and Zoya's incredibly limited perspectives during their Ketterdam sidequest

I 100% agree with Zoya when she thinks that "maybe Kaz was like Nikolai, a boy with an unquiet mind, a man in perpetual need of challenge" because ROW makes it so obvious that Kaz is bored and incredibly restless in his success. Someone get our boy a new life's purpose and a subscription to a long-running unsolved mystery podcast stat

[ourbastardofsorrows]

Hi there! I know that this is really out of the blue but im asking for a favor or some help w/ my cats current medical needs. Please if you have an extra time to boost/share it for us so that we could get some traction or it could reach more people, it would definitely help a ton! I understand if its not okay, Im so sorry for taking some of your time and I wish you to be safe and healthy always, xx.(Please considering answering my ask privately or probably hit me a msg if its fine! 😭🙏

yes ma'am, that's a scam! i will certainly boost this information to my followers so that the knowledge that this awful pathos-fueled scam is still circulating can reach more people. i hope that your scam gains all the traction of a razor scooter on an icy sidewalk. 😭🙏

[notanactressyayy]

—𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭—

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary . she needs you, in multiple ways — she's just scared to ask for it.

warnings . smut — I am NOT responsible for the content you consume — thigh riding, scissoring, fingering, vulnerable sex (because yes), taking care of Nat because she deserves it.

notes . English is not my first language, I'm brazilian, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. this is probably the first fic I ever post so hi hi!!!

(I'm sorry if this is bad, I literally wrote that in a waiting room, completely in a rush.)

divider credits: @cafekitsune ^^

You didn't know exactly why the TV was on. You weren't interested on the show, and Natasha wasn't even looking at it. Her eyes looked down as she fidgeted with her fingers. You could tell she was anxious, that something was bothering her.

You just never expected that this was something to do with you — no, you didn't do anything wrong. It was her.

Natasha and you met years ago, and had been in a situationship for a while now. You weren't friends, but somehow, you couldn't recall the time you started dating (because it never existed). Friends with benefits was too cliché, and maybe not enough to describe what you actually had with her.

To begin with it, you met Natasha when she was still an Avenger. You were never part of the team, but they treated you as if you were. You were close to everyone, but specially Natasha. There was a reason she had let that happen, since according to her, she was in New York to be a hero, and not to have friends.

Friends.

The moment the russian started to blush whenever Thor teased her about how close she was to you or when you simply stared at her for a few seconds or more was when she realized that she made a mistake. A good one, she hoped. In a heartbeat, she was telling you her story.

You listened — just, listened. Your hand went to brush her hair behind her ear whenever she looked down, and the sparkle of pride in your eyes was not something she could miss. You didn't pity her. You didn't try to bring up a justification for what she went through, or to bring up a solution to fix her. You were proud of her for who she became, and were there for her whenever she didn't want to be that person for a while.

It was with that trust in you that she found herself wanting, craving even, something more. She's human, wether she like it or not. She can't deny her feelings or urges, not even the most dangerous spy can.

So her walls broke when you said you were going with her to Norway after the Avengers split.

Natasha shifted a little in the couch, the blankets around her getting all crumpled as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Your focus went from the soft patting of the raindrops in the window to the woman next to you, as you frowned a bit.

"Nat?" you called, leaning your side against the backrest of the couch and looking at her. "What's wrong?"

She turned to you, a little startled, but tried to shake it off with a small grin. "Oh, it's nothing. It's just a little hot in here."

"We're in Norway," you laughed, giving her that goddamn smile of yours. "And.. it's raining."

"The..." she shook her head, failing miserably to come up with an excuse. "The blankets are making me hot."

"Mhm, are they?" you raised an eyebrow, and pulled the blankets off you both, and letting half of them fall to the floor. "Better?"

Natasha shivered, but nodded nonetheless. You saw she was unquiet, and that this looked a little more serious than the normal.

"Natasha."

"Yeah?"

"What is going on?" you repeated your question, scooting closer to her and placing your hand above hers — just to make things worse.

Natasha almost whined at your action, which made you pull your hand back and frown even more. "I'm sorry,"

"No, it's not your fault." she shook her head. "It's mine."

"Then tell me." you smiled softly, lifting her head up to meet your eyes with your pointer finger. The sight of her green orbs was something you maybe never saw before.

"I..." she mumbled, clearing her throat. She then grabbed your hand and held your wrist gently, not sure of what to do next. "I don't know."

"It's okay," you whispered, bringing her hand up and placing a kiss on it. You had no problem with being affectionate and she didn't mind either, but today, it was different.

"Y/n". Natasha whispered back, looking into your eyes and getting lost in them. She was clearly unsure of what to do, and how to express what she was feeling. So she brought your hand up and placed your palm above her heart. Faster than the speed of light.

"Hey..." you cooed, tilting your head as you felt the aggressive beating against your hand. "You... are you, scared of something?"

"No." she quickly shook her head. She wasn't having any negative emotions right now. "I'm not anxious, I'm not scared.. I'm just.."

"Just what?"

The fact she was not having an anxious episode or a panic attack made you slightly relaxed, but not completely — then you realized, the touches you were giving her made her sensitive. She was needy.

The Red Room turned her into a closed person, and that didn't completely vanish when she was with you — it was like there was a bug in her system that had to be fixed, soon. She couldn't be totally open, but not completely closed.

You smiled at the thought, and leaned in closer, inches away from her face, which made her breathing uneven. "Tell me what you need, Nat."

"I..." she took a deep inhale and placed her hand on your cheek, pulling you into an unexpected kiss — a desperate one.

She kissed you frantically, her movements with urgency as she placed her hands behind your neck, trying to pull you close. You couldn't say you expected this, but it wasn't unwelcomed either.

Your hands went to her waist as she shyly crawled onto your lap, her legs hooking around your hips as she pulled away for air, her forehead against yours.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she breathed, feeling her eyes start to burn with unleashed tears.

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for." you murmured, arms gently wrapping around her as she straddled you. "It's okay, let's not rush things. Let's take deep breaths, mhm?"

The fact you wanted her to calm down before anything almost calmed her down instantly, but she breathed with you, then leaned her head on yours, her cheek on your hair.

"I just need something," she whispered, more calmly now. "I—I think I need you."

"And I'm here," you turned your head to press a kiss on her temple, caressing her back. The redhead melted.

Natasha leaned down to kiss your lips again, but not with urgency. She sighed softly against your lips, her hands moving to hold your face, and yours, to hold her waist. It didn't take long for her to start moving slowly — she shifted, instead of straddling your lap, her legs were around your thigh. Your eyes opened, and you broke the kiss to look at her.

"Nat, my love," you whispered. "Are you sure of this?"

"Please." she uttered back, closing her eyes and gripping your shoulders. "I know you'd ever hurt me.. you would never disrespect me, you would stop if I asked you to. Right... right?"

You smiled sadly, realizing she was trying to reassure herself, and not actually ask you this. "Yes, yes, Natasha. I want to take care of you. I want to see you, beyond that shell they turned you in. I want you to feel comfortable enough with me to ask for this, and this is such a big step for you."

She sighed in relief, hearing the honesty in your voice. She nodded, clearing her throat. She leaned down, hiding her face on the crook of her neck and pressing small, gentle kisses on it. Then her hips started to slowly move, and the tiniest bit of friction made her gasp. "Y/n..."

"Shh," you held her hips, guiding her through her own pace. The little high waisted shorts she wore rolled up, so surprisingly thick that you could feel her wetness. "That's great, Natty. Move yourself for me, like this."

Natasha whined at your words, starting to grind against you slightly faster. The clothes were starting to feel uncomfortable, as she felt the need of you seeing her. She grabbed your hands, and slowly moved them underneath her blouse.

You did what she wanted, grazing your fingernails against her skin and slowly massaging her flesh, resulting in a soft moan of hers. "Take it off." You looked at her with a questioning look, even if you had an idea of what she was asking for. "Undress me, Y/n."

Given her permission, you smoothly lifted her blouse and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stopped her movements briefly, just so you could slide her shorts and panties down her thighs, her heat now in contact with your leg making you groan.

She felt your hands moving up to unclasp her bra and smirked softly, holding her arms out so you could take down the straps. That woman was surely breathtaking, her body, her marks, her scars, her voice, her everything.

"Natty," you uttered, pressing kisses in the valley between her breasts and moving up, to her ear. "There's so much I wanna do with you..."

Natasha closed her eyes, your touch making her shiver again, as she began to fastly grind her pussy against your thigh. "Please." she quickly removed your shirt and soon enough, you both were completely naked.

The feeling of skin against hers, the human touch that she never felt when getting off with a strap while thinking of you was unbelievable, a touch that she knew that wouldn't hurt her. It was so good, so different from the men she seduced when a spy, so different from the men that touched her in the Red Room.

"My pretty girl," you hissed, throwing your leg above hers and starting to grind yourself with her. "So beautiful, and all mine."

"Yes," she panted, burying her face in your neck again as her nails lightly scratched your back. "Y/n, please."

"You're coming with me." you sweetly commanded. Natasha started to whisper things in Russian that you couldn't really understand, but you took it as a sign that she was close.

Soon enough, Natasha's legs started to shake and her moans on your ear got slightly louder, you both coming together, her juices mixing with yours. She didn't stop, though. You gasped, looking up at her. She still needed more.

"Touch me." Natasha growled, grabbing your hand and moving it close to her cunt. She was starting to feel confident, and you liked it.

You didn't think twice before burying your middle and pointer fingers on her hole, using your thumb to slowly rub circles on her clit, biting your lip at the sight of her back arched. All for you.

"God, Y/n," she moaned, using her own hands to squeeze her breasts and circle her hard nipples. "Yes, just like that."

"You like it like this?" you asked, shoving one more finger inside her, her moans getting louder. She slowly started to lift herself from your fingers, just to lower her hips again, riding your fingers. "You're gonna come for me again?"

"Yes!" she nodded frantically, her breaths coming in little gasps for air. She gripped your shoulders tightly, throwing her head back and orgasming again. It took a while for her to calm down, and you didn't waste time before gently taking her and laying her down on the couch, spreading her legs and pressing soft kisses on her inner thighs, licking her juices and making her squirm around.

"Y/n," she murmured quietly, reaching her arms out.

"Oh, baby." you pulled Nat into an embrace, holding her close to your chest and caressing her hair, running your fingers through her red locks. "It's alright."

Natasha whimpered, wanting to hide herself in your arms and never come out again. She closed her eyes and laid her head on your chest, arms circling your waist.

The talk about this could wait. The silence was comfortable enough for now.

[beggars-opera]

Since we’re all talking plagiarism this week I love folk music and the complete lack of ownership. I love that there’s like ten different versions of Spanish Ladies because every country wanted its own personalized version. I love how the same character can show up in a dozen songs. I love how The Unquiet Grave sometimes uses the same tune as Star of the County Down for some reason. I love the Wild West of music

[ghsttk]

private lessons.

Scenario: Where your biology teacher, Johnny Depp, helps you to improve your bad grades.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, breeding (maybe), slight mention of age gap, creampie, cheating (Johnny is married)

Word count: 1.8k

a/n: I know this is quite cliche, but I love this kind of prompt so.. fuck it, the profile is mine, I post whatever I want KKMKLKK. English is not my first language, reader is not a minor.

“Come on, it is not that hard, try again.” Mr Depp insisted, his hand on your left shoulder. You had lost count of how many times he asked you to try again. You were in the empty classroom with him, your stern biology teacher. He asked you to wait until after class since your grades were quite low in his subject. Johnny took off his glasses and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You felt helpless because you did not understand the open book right in front of you. He was trying to teach you a few subjects that might be present on entrance exams, the first and actual one was the Reproductive System.

“Mr Depp, I can’t” You sighed, giving up for the third time. “Yes, you can. Reread it.” He insisted once more, pointing at the sentence in the old book. He exhaled tiredly, his grip on your shoulder tightening briefly before releasing it. “Let's have a small break, hm?” He patted your back and crossed his arms, looking away. The golden glint on his finger caught your attention, Mr Depp never mentioned a wife before — but he wasn't the type to even mention his personal life during classes. Though the thought of him marrying someone else made you somehow jealous.

He noticed your curious stare on his ring, rolling his eyes at the mere reminder of his unbearable wife. Johnny walked to his desk, sat down, and placed his glasses on the desk. His hands dragged down his face, exhausted. “What are you looking at?” He grumbled, being the usual stern type he was. You just watched him. “I didn't know that you're married.” You said softly, afraid of raising your tone with him. He huffed and played with the ring, twisting and sliding it on his finger, a mannerism he got as soon as he married. “It's not something I'm proud of” He muttered, as if the words slipped freely from his lips. You tilted your head, confused. “What do you mean?” 

Why is Johnny unproud of his marriage? It’s a big accomplishment in life. And since Johnny never spoke about his love life in classes, unlike other teachers, he was satisfied with it… wasn’t he?

“My wife,” He exhaled heavily. “She has been rather distant. I suspect she has found someone else.” He rubbed his eyes and put his glasses back on. It was clear that his relationship with his wife had taken a toll on him, mentally and physically. Your lips frowned sympathetically, noticing how tired your teacher was. “I’m sorry you must deal with that, Mr Depp…” You leaned forward on your seat, watching him. Seeing your usually stoic teacher this exhausted made you feel something, like a feminine impulse to comfort him.

“Don’t be, I shouldn’t be talking about this with a student. Are you done with your break?” He looked up at you. You stood up hesitantly, your eyes locked on his. “You must feel so.. lonely, without your wife's companion..” You said, hands unquiet. Johnny's eyebrows twitched, reluctant, but he nodded. “I-... Yes, I suppose it feels.” His eyes stayed on yours, like a hunter watching his prey. With slow steps, you stood next to him. Johnny was still sitting on his chair. Your eyes traveled his face, mapping every contour and detail, admiring. His serious gaze was rather exciting, it made you feel obligated to please him.

“You must be missing a feminine touch, right?” You whispered like your subconscious was talking for you. Johnny's expression remained stern, as if internally questioning his morals until a smirk appeared. “Oh, I am, ain't I?” He looked up and down at you, he knew what you were trying to do and he was slowly giving in. You tentatively placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning closer. “Trying to get a more hands-on lesson, puppy?” He asked in a low voice, teasing you with a wider smirk. His tone made you shiver, you were completely under his spell. Johnny's hands slowly moved to your waist, his thumbs caressing your sides.

“Puppy?” You asked. “Yes, you're my puppy.” He pulled you up and placed you on the edge of his desk. “You want a lesson, huh? Let's see if you get it this time.” He attacked your lips, swallowing your gasps. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging his long strands. His tongue possessed your mouth, claiming every inch of it. You slid your tongue against his tentatively, earning a stroke on your thighs from him.

You felt his fingers ghostly brushing towards the center, feeling the damp heat on the thin fabric of your panties. “Let's start with the female genitalia” He broke the kiss, looking down to your lap. Johnny's fingers hooked on the waistband of your panties, gently pulling it down your ankles. He licked his fingertips before sliding a finger up your slit, feeling your wetness. He bit his lower lip, nodding in approval. Once he coated his fingers in your arousal, he brought them to his lips, tasting you. Johnny hummed, sucking his fingers. His cock throbbed in its confines.

A pop echoed through the empty classroom as he removed his fingers from his mouth, he dipped them between your legs and started to list. “Here are the labia majora” His fingers stroked your bigger pussy lips and you shivered in anticipation. “Here the inner ones” His thumb brushed against your sticky slit. He slides his thumb between your labia minora, dragging it up towards your clit. “Your urethra is located around here and…” Johnny trailed off as his fingertip reached your small bundle of nerves. “-And this little thing is your clitoris.” He rubbed tight circles against it, pressing his thumb to stimulate you.

“Oh, look how it swells…” He whispered praisingly, biting a smirk. “You like it, don’t you, little one?” He taunted, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “Stimulating this cute little thing will make you aroused, and shortly soon become wet.” He kissed your neck twice, his lips lingering on your skin. His fingertips traveled down your pussy.

“And here, my pet. Here is the main attraction.” He teasingly stroked the entrance of your vagina, pretending to slide in but never doing it. You whined, eyes pleading to him to have mercy and just give in. “Shh… Once wet enough, it becomes easier to penetrate the vagina.” He slid two fingers inside, slightly curling them to caress your insides. Johnny started pumping his fingers in and out steadily, his satisfied grin widening as he noted your body responses. 

“Did you get it?” He whispered and kissed your temple. You moaned so softly, his fingers felt good, a lot better than your own. He buried his fingers deeper and tried again, stroking your inner walls mercilessly. “Did you get it, pup?” He teased and you nodded, another moan escaping your lips.

He removed his fingers, briefly sucking them again before unbuckling his belt. “Now, let's move to the male genitalia.” He unzips his tailored pants. “And then I’ll explain more of the whole process.” He winked, letting his pants fall. Your eyes were fixed on his hands as he pulled his boxers down just enough to free himself, his thick, veiny manhood standing hard and proud. You were really going to have sex with your teacher, a man almost twice your age.

Johnny wrapped his hand around the base of his length and started to point out. He cupped his balls with his other hand, careful yet with a certain custom. “These are the testicles, they are responsible for making sperm and are also producing testosterone” His hands moved up. “This is the shaft, as you can see.. and here, on the top, the glans” His thumb brushed the head of his cock. Your eyes watched every movement, horny and somewhat eager. Your hand reached to touch him, his amused smirk told you that you were allowed to. He released a shaky gasp as you touched his sensitive tip, already dripping precum.

“Feel it, puppy, look how excited I am for you” He whispered. Johnny brushes his thumb over his tip, collecting his precum before shoving it in your mouth, his other fingers cupping your chin. “Taste it, yeah..” He breathed, his other hand guiding his member towards your entrance. With gentle pushes, and the help of your drooling pussy, he easily slid in. Johnny groaned, your tightness enveloping his cock like a velvet glove. “Shit, that's it.” He cursed under his breath, pushing it all inside. “Now, I will fuck this pretty pussy and then fill your little womb with my semen, put a baby in you.” He warned with a malicious grin “And you will love every second of it.” Johnny started slow but it didn't take long for him to slam his hips against yours, not caring about the unholy skin slapping sound echoing through the room. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the need to hold yourself onto something before your body gave into the pleasant sensation of his cock stroking your insides.

You tried to keep your eyes open, but everything felt so good. Johnny chuckled between grunts, seeing you struggling. “You're doing great, you're such a quick learner, pup” He praised, leaning to kiss you. He swallowed your moans and whimpers, hitting the head of his cock each time deeper inside of you. Johnny reached your chest with one of his hands, hastily ripping the buttons of your shirt open, freeing at least one breast. “Those are important as well, they'll produce milk to feed your baby, once you get pregnant.” He squeezed your nipple tightly, making you whine in pleasure.

You wrapped your wobbly legs around his waist, keeping him there — as if he ever wanted to leave. One of his hands sneaked between your legs, teasing your clit. “When you feel it, don't hold it, hear me?” He ordered. “I want you to be a good girl and fall apart on my cock.” Johnny quickened his pace, his free hand gripping your thigh so tight that might leave a mark later. And you felt it coming, the unmistakable feeling already pooling in your belly. Johnny whispered a few more encouraging phrases in your ear, a stark contrast between his gentle words and his rough thrusts, leading you to the fall. You melted in his arms, drenching his length. He followed you, almost instantly, flooding your insides, painting them white.

Johnny slowed his movements, looking into your eyes. “You did so well, puppy” He kissed your forehead. You looked back at him, panting. “I think I'll get at least B on your test, sir” You chuckled breathlessly. “Oh, you'll certainly do well, sweetheart. Get that B and I will give you my D as a reward” He winked, kissing you one last time.

Suddenly, a loud alarm interrupted your moment. Actually, interrupted everything, since you woke up in the classroom with everyone gathering their things to leave. You had slept during Mr Depp’s class. When standing up, your eyes locked with Johnny's. He let out an amused chuckle and shook his head.

"You'll need private lessons, pup.”

a/n: I apologize if something is written wrong, I did not proofread this and I unfortunately don't have biology classes anymore lol.

taglist: @drugs-and-daddyissues @iwnterlude

-- If you want to be tagged, just dm me!

[barrel-crow-n]

What if Kaz joined Sturmhond's crew

Listen, hear me out.

Kaz is bored as fuck in Rule of Wolves. That's so obvious. He built an underground tunnel under half the city, he expanded Dregs territory, he bought a new gambling parlour, he upgraded the Crow Club. He steals things for fun. But it's getting so boring.

"What are you without your vengance" "What will you do when there are no more scores to settle?" Kaz's whole life has been about revenge, and now that Pekka is gone, he doesn't know what to do with himself. This was made clear in both show and book (the quotes above) when the Jordie hallucination and Inej both ask him what he will do when there's no more revenge to exact. He never really thought about it but now his revenge is done. It's completed. Early. Kaz mentions how he was going to use his haul to start a new gang and destroy Pekka, but he clearly never thought it would be so soon. Now, he doesn't know what to do. He's rich. He's the king of the Barrel. He's got his gang. There is nothing left to do.

There's nothing in Ketterdam left to occupy him. He wants to be the king of it, and he loves the city, but he's bored out of his skull. So he goes on a voyage. He leaves his lieutenant in charge, and his gang have orders to continue terrorising the Barrel whilst he's gone, but Kaz personally slips away onto the sea. With Nikolai.

I chose Nikolai and not Inej because of how similar Kaz and Nikolai are. Nikolai slips away from his kingly duties, Kaz from his. Nikolai has an unquiet mind, so does Kaz. They both love to put on a show and a disguise and Nikolai's reputation on the sea is pretty ruthless. He fed a guy's fingers to a dog. Kaz would love that. Also when Inej finds out he went on the sea but on a ship that isn't hers it'll be funny. Do you see my vision?

[eelhound]

"In a famous scene in Book 6 of 'The Iliad,' Andromache, accompanied by her baby son and enslaved nurse, begs her husband, the great Trojan warrior Hector, to adopt a less dangerous military strategy, rather than face the enemy on the open plain. He refuses, and they part for the last time. In the original Greek, the wife and husband each use the same word to address one another: 'daimonios.' The word is cognate with 'daimōn' — 'spirit' or 'deity' (from which we get the English 'demon') — and presumably suggests, in its most literal sense, that a person is influenced by some superhuman power. Yet it is surprisingly common in Homer, generally used when one individual addresses another. It is sometimes taken to suggest little more than 'Sir' or 'Ma’am'; sometimes the context suggests it is negative ('possessed' or 'crazy'), sometimes the opposite ('You marvelous person!').

Many translators of this scene use different renditions of the word in the two instances. In Lattimore, Andromache calls Hector 'Dearest,' while he calls her 'Poor Andromache!'; in Fagles, Andromache calls Hector 'Reckless one,' while Hector calls Andromache 'Dear one'; in Fitzgerald, Andromache uses 'Wild one,' and Hector uses 'Unquiet soul' (a lovely phrase lifted from Shakespeare’s 'Merchant of Venice' — although oral poetry does not abound in clever literary quotations). I felt it was important to use the same word for both the wife addressing the husband, and the husband addressing the wife, to echo the symmetry suggested in the original, and I used 'strange' in both instances ('strange man … strange woman,' echoing the different genders of the original). I hoped that this word might hint at the Greek term’s suggestion of something unusual, perhaps divine or inhuman. This heartbreaking scene evokes both deep intimacy and profound estrangement between husband and wife, one of whom will soon be dead and the other enslaved."

- Emily Wilson, from "Emily Wilson on 5 crucial decisions she made in her ‘Iliad’ translation." Washington Post, 20 September 2023.

[micamicster]

Country Girl Blue Sargent

I hit the highway in a pink RV with stars on the ceiling

One True Love - The O'Kanes / Gravedigger - Willie Nelson / Marie Laveau - Bobby Bare / Closer to Fine - Indigo Girls / That Don't Impress Me Much - Shania Twain / Blowin' Smoke - Kacey Musgraves / Coat of Many Colors - Dolly Parton / Wide Open Spaces -The Chicks / I Wish I Was the Moon - Neko Case / The Lucky One - Alison Krauss / Passionate Kisses - Mary Chapin Carpenter / Love Will Turn You Around - Kenny Rogers / I'll Be Your Baby Tonight - Linda Ronstadt / Orphan Girl - Emmylou Harris/ Shut Up and Drive - Chely Wright / Help Me Make It Through the Night - Willie Nelson / Alibi - Hurray for the Riff Raff / Share the Moon - Indigo Girls / Something to Talk About - Bonnie Raitt / What's Your Mama's Name? - Tanya Tucker / The Unquiet Grave - Joan Baez / Boulder to Birmingham - Emmylou Harris / Landslide - The Chicks / Light of a Clear Blue Morning - Dolly Parton / On the Road Again - Willie Nelson / The Long Way Around - The Chicks

Country Boy? Dick Gansey

It's a mighty dark night and I made that drive, but I'll never get out of your love alive

Delta Dawn - Tanya Tucker / Southern Nights - Glen Campbell / Seven Year Ache - Rosanne Cash / Are You Ready for the Country? - Neil Young / Garden Party - Rick Nelson & the Stone Canyon Band / The Waiting - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers / Everybody Knows - The Chicks / Blue - LeAnn Rimes / Long Black Veil - Johnny Cash / Walkin' After Midnight - Patsy Cline / I Take My Chances - Mary Chapin Carpenter / Share the Moon - Indigo Girls / Something About What Happens When We Talk - Lucinda Williams / Valentine's Day - Bruce Springsteen / 'Til I'm too Old to Die Young - Moe Bandy / Easy Silence - The Chicks / It's Not Supposed to Be That Way - Waylon Jennings / Raise the Dead - Linda Ronstadt & Emmylou Harris / I’ll Go to My Grave Loving You - The Statler Brothers / Hang Me - Peggy Seeger / My Life - Iris DeMent / Those Memories of You - Trio / Oh What a Beautiful World - Rodney Crowell / Shenandoah - Bruce Springsteen / Our Town - Iris DeMent

Obviously we are taking a broad view of country music and one heavily influenced by my personal tastes blah blah but as always please understand that while these playlists may not be definitive, they are 100% Correct <3

Ronan and Adam's playlists

[warrioreowynofrohan]

For the first day of Silmarillion Daily - some thoughts on the Discord of Melkor.

The Great Music is a theme where Ilúvatar provides the broad strokes, and the Valar are encouraged to improvise upon it. The purpose of Melkor’s discord is not creativity, but in a sense the opposite of it - “to increase the power and glory of the part assigned to himself,” and thus to give one voice greater dominance over all the others, rather than all working together in their own ways. And that dominance and lack of creativity is the first effect: some are discouraged and stop singing, while others match him rather than following their own thoughts.

The Music is something of a speedrun of what Melkor later becomes - at the beginning he wants more power in order to make his vision a reality, but as he continues fighting against anything that is not his own music, he ceases to have any real vision of his own, but only the object of drowning out everyone else.

it was loud, and vain, and endlessly repeated; and it had little harmony, but rather a clamorous unison as of many trumpets braying upon a few notes. And it essayed to drown the other music by the violence of its voice

This is a pretty good encapsulation of what evil does to a person who chooses it, on a pattern repeated throughout Tolkien’s works (Melkor, Sauron, Fëanor, Saruman): any creative impulse or goal is drowned in the desire for power and dominance and crushing any opposition.

For all this, Melkor cannot overcome Ilúvatar’s guiding theme in the music, but as a consequence of this discord Ilúvatar’s theme becomes both sorrowful and more beautiful, the beauty coming from the sorrow. This is also the core theme of The Silmarillion: evil can destroy, it can bring sorrow, but it can never ultimately win.

behold! a third theme grew amid the confusion, and it was unlike the others. For it seemed at first soft and sweet, a mere rippling of gentle sounds in delicate melodies; but it could not be quenched, and it took to itself power and profundity…deep and wide and beautiful, but slow and blended with an immeasurable sorrow, from which its beauty chiefly came….it seemed that its most triumphant notes [of Melkor’s Discord] were taken by the other and woven into it own solemn pattern.

Lastly, there is a sharp contrast drawn between the attitudes of the other Ainur towards the vision of the Children of Ilúvatar, and the attitude of Melkor. The other Ainur are delighted at the prospect of people who are different from them, with whom they can communicate and from whose different ways of thinking and living they can learn:

when they beheld them, the more did they love them, being things other than themselves, strange and free, wherein they saw the mind of Ilúvatar reflected anew

But Melkor, by contrast, is jealous of them because they are different from him, and wants to control them and be obeyed by them:

he desired rather to subdue to his will both Elves and Men, envying the gifts with which Ilúvatar promised to endow them; and he wished himself to have subjects and servants, and to be called Lord, and to be a master over other wills.

In Tolkien’s works, almost invariably, more diversity and variation and creativity is a good thing, and trying to make everything done one way, your way, inevitably leads to ‘making people do want you want’ become the goal that precedes and displaces whatever it was that you wanted to do in the first place.

On another note, it’s fascinating that most of the Ainur other than Ulmo initially find the Sea unsettling (‘because of the roaring of the sea they felt a great unquiet’), even as the Elves will the first time they see it. It’s possible, in line with the above, that part of this is the wild and uncontrolled nature of the Sea; that it is, to Tolkien, the ultimate element of freedom, the thing that cannot be controlled and yet holds no dominion. This also fits with Ulmo’s role as the ‘loyal opposition’ to some of the other Valar, in his desire not to summon the Elves to Middle-earth, and to aid the Noldor after their departure; both or these are in line with allowing the Children of Ilúvatar more freedom to choose their own path.

[fukashiin]

i saw your tags on the ace drabble i wrote and OH MY GOD, i actually think I'm going insane and i need your thoughts on deuce and how he feels abt yuu

YES OMG IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED THE TAGS I WAS SPASMING OUUT IN MY BED THE WHOLE TIME WHILEI WAS WRITING THOSE. AND OHMYGPD OFC DEUYUU????? DEUYUU MY BELOVED IM SO CRAZY ABOUT THEM TOO WHERE DO I EVEN START

think about how deuce's ambition to turn over a new leaf before joining nrc was just a wispy little torch, prone to going out at literally any time because of how much he doubted himself and his abilities to prove himself to the world . He's shown some moments of fiery determination—but a man is not without his insecurities right???

and then you stumble into his life without any regard for the future. Like Yeah you may just be some uninteresting tumbleweed passing by to others at first (and maybe even to Him) , but GOD when you told both him and ace off to cut it out with their quarrelling??? When the flame in your eyes to face off against the blot monster burns brighter than a million suns goes unwavered???? Which contrasts the gentle, heartfelt smile you got on your face when your opponent has been finally laid to pieces???/ Holy Shit

i cannot exactly pinpoint where Deuce would start falling for yuu for the life of me but he's got it so achingly bad. you're such an important and precious figure in his life, you've showed him how to be him without acting so rigid 24/7, and you've showed him that there's so much more to a person than their gnarly Past. he feels like he can be normal around you without having to constantly prove a point, and your steady belief in him and his goals has him Running Laps in a frenzy (like literally). He treasures you—this befallen gift from another world that states upfront that brooding over the past is gonna get him nowhere, and promising that you'll both work on your ways to become the best versions of yourselves together. And he feels like he doesn't deserve you because youre wayy too out of his League.

AND THEN ofcourse we cant forget like literally the rest of the School population. or if we're being more specific - ace. He's gifted, uncannily talented, and is somewhat less of a trouble to the teachers when it comes to academics. and Oh!!! Hes one of your closest friends as well (and to Deuce's unquiet distress, possibly even the Closer One)!!! he attracts attention effortlessly and is a fast learner, both of which can be sore spots for deuce if mentioned. and he's thinking. thinking so heavily about what that could possibly entail-

but he won't let ace steal his thunder.

Because he's going to work and commit his time towards the things he loves

and one of those things is You.

youre everything he's ever aspired to be, and he'll waste every drop of blood, sweat, and tears if it means that he'll get a moment's long glimpse of that pretty smile you flash so shamelessly whenever something wonderful happens to you—no matter how weakened his body may get—

because the rings down the street certainly aren't cheap.

[honourablejester]

Starfinder Character Concept: A Luminous Skeletal Priest

Okay. So. Reading the Ports of Call setting book presented me with the fabulous concept of the Last Call, a colony ship turned mobile funerary barge:

“Space is a minefield of fatal disasters, and the undead can arise from those who die gruesomely or without last rites. Knowing this, a Pharasmin sect called the Cemeterians repurposed a colony ship as their flying temple and set out to provide funerary services across the galaxy. Having now operated for over 50 years, the starship is known as Last Call is easily recognized by its sign reading “Let the End be an Ending” painted above its docking bay. The ship periodically jumps across the galaxy, serving as a trading post, morgue, and neutral ground for all but the unrepentant undead.”

This is enchanting to me. Combined with all the space undead you get in Starfinder, like my beloved Marooned Ones. Just the idea of a ship that is going out to find the wrecks, the dead stations, the lost colonies, in order to grant the dead their last rites and to lay the unquiet dead to rest. Or to just provide services for ships or stations that don’t have their own priests. I so want a character who at least spent time on her as part of their background.

And then, while I was thinking about deathly space priests and their funeral ship, I remembered a Starfinder race that I have loved since I first read about them: the Shatori. I noticed them because of the image firstly, Shatori are 7ft tall translucent immortals with glowing bones. They have a glowing skeleton that shines through their semi-transparent flesh. It’s amazing.

They accidentally set off an invasion of their world by daemons of Abaddon while looking for alternate power sources way back when, and created a spell to keep some of them alive in stasis until the invasion was over, but messed it up and wound up hibernating for centuries in a pocket dimension next to the Boneyard, the deathly energies of which gradually converted the sleeping Shatori into living but sterile immortals. They can’t give birth, can’t create more Shatori, so the survivors in that stasis dimension are the only Shatori’s that are ever going to exist anymore, and each death among them is an irrevocable loss. So they are, as a people, incredibly conscious of death, and seek to preserve their knowledge against their loss. As well as live full lives, in honour of all the Shatori that will never get to live.

Which. Combined with the Last Call.

Now. Shatori do not generally have truck with religion. They’re essentially immortal space Vulcans, they believe in impartiality and rational self-interest. And Pharasma, in particular, is complicated for them, on account of her Boneyard being the thing that … well, did the thing.

But they believe that each death is an irrevocable loss. They believe in preserving the knowledge and actions of those who have died. They believe in ensuring that those who are lost are not forgotten. So maybe one of them might be willing to crew a ship and find the lost dead and ensure that their names, their deeds, their knowledge, and the nature of their deaths, is recorded and not lost to time and the vast emptiness of space.

Also. Imagery-wise. A 7ft tall luminescent death priest, aboard a flying funeral ship. I’m just saying.

I do think I want an investigative sort of Cemetarian here. Not just last rites. They’re Shatori, they want to know the hows and whys and what-is-lefts. Recovery and preservation of knowledge, so that those who have died did not die wholly in vain. In which case, they might actually be in favour of the survival of intelligent undead, as it preserves the person and the knowledge, which might have maybe driven a little bit of a wedge between them and more zealous Cemetarians (and Pharasmins in general). So they might have been politely asked to leave the Last Call at some point. But they’re interested in continuing the calling regardless. In finding the dead of space, and laying them properly to rest, and recording the nature and circumstances of their deaths, and retrieving as much of who they were and what they knew as possible.

A mystic, almost certainly. Not a direct devotee of Pharasma, though they masked that well for a long time, more a simple chronicler of the dead. I think the Akashic connection? Knowledge, the preservation of knowledge. I like that Shatori already get detect magic, grave words, and stabilise as spell-like abilities. They lean towards deathly investigation from a standing start. We’ll likely build their spell repertoire to match that.

For background … I don’t think I’d go priest. I suspect they may not still be a member of Pharasma’s flock, on account of not actually being that religious or opposed to undeath on a philosophical level. I think I’m going to go with Void Nomad instead. Touched by the isolation and death of the vast cold reaches of space. We’re going to be a philosophical sort of Shatori on an evolving journey of discovery regarding death, that thing which is the horror and inevitable end of our entire species. By studying and honouring and embracing those who have perished to the void, we are slowly learning to accept our own inevitable end.

So. A quiet, contemplative lady, a shining skeletal Shatori on a journey of discovery, death and acceptance.

For a name … I deeply love the names of the planets in the Shatori’s home system of Disaj: Perdane, the world they lost to Abaddon, Perdure, the world on which they enacted their desperate and doomed attempt to escape death, and Prevail, a world relatively unscathed by past mistakes. There’s a theme there that I like. So. She’s going to have renamed herself out in the void, to remind herself of home and to keep the knowledge alive.

Durance Vail. An ex-Cemetarian of the Last Call. A Shatori void nomad akashic mystic. Heh.

(Or, put another way, and still to my giddy delight, a 7ft glowing skeleton lady who would like to go exploring spooky shipwrecks and speak with dead people for broadly altruistic purposes).

(Also, yes, space undead and nautical horror will never not be themes for me. I like spooky ships).

[l-carlyle]

Lockwood & Co. feature on the January 2023 Issue of the SFX Magazine

I'll put the text under the break if anyone can't access the photos :-)

"JOE CORNISH IS HAUNTED. NOT BY ANY BONE chilling apparition or plate-flinging poltergeist but by a time. A vanished age, of strange torments and diabolical dread.

“This is a world of draughty houses and windows that don’t quite close properly and creaky floorboards and clicking pipes,” he tells SFX, smiling over a Zoom connection. “The world I remember from my childhood, before double-glazing and insulation!”

Welcome to the phantom-infested Britain of Lockwood & Co. It’s a little like the 1970s, only even weirder. Adapted from the popular series of books by Jonathan Stroud, this new Netflix offering pits swashbuckling teens against the unquiet dead in a London spilling over with paranormal activity. Even the local A-Z, you strongly suspect, drips with ectoplasm.

ANATOMY OF A GHOST “I love supernatural stories,” says Cornish, who serves as lead writer and director on the eight-part series, “and it’s unusual to find a story where the science of ghosts has been so thoughtfully defined. There’s a broad set of rules for ghosts that most stories adhere to, but there’s not really an almost Darwinesque analysis of different types of ghosts, different species, different behaviours, a taxonomy.

“The idea that they can kill you by touching you completely changes the dynamic of a ghost story, brings it into the action-adventure realm. So you get everything great about a ghost story but these other genre elements really take it into a new place. “On top of that you’ve got terrific worldbuilding. This takes place 50 years into a ghost epidemic, and the world has really changed because of it. Different economics and different social structures have emerged. Because young people are more sensitive to the supernatural, which is a classic trope in ghost stories, it’s extrapolated into this world where young people are employed by massive adult-run agencies to detect and fight ghosts. “So it’s a pretty amazing bit of thinking, based on a very attractive set of genre ideas that have been around for ages but have never really been reinvented in such a clever way.”

It’s a more analogue world, where technological progress stuttered. And that’s a premise that appeals to Cornish, who made his name with the hand-tooled, micro-budget joys of The Adam And Joe Show – a pioneering ’90s celebration of geek culture, knocked together from toys, love and cardboard – before promotion to the big screen as director of Attack The Block in 2011.

“The world changed tack when the problem started, because everything that would be regarded as pseudo-science became real science,” he explains. “So the world stopped at the time of Amstrad word processors! “It became a more industrial world, because iron and salt and water can repel ghosts, so suddenly these almost Victorian industries are revived. Also, in a weird parallel way, old things are suddenly scary. Anything with an ancient history is potentially lethal, because it might be the source of a ghost.

“For me it felt like the early ’80s, when I was a teenager, because that was kind of pre-digital. It was a world that still had analogue media and you could buy records and fanzines. There was a world of printed youth culture that existed in a social way, that wasn’t on telephones and computers. You communicated in a much more person-to-person way back then. So that was pleasing for me as well – the series has this kind of retro-contemporary feel to it that’s half modern and half 50 years ago.” The spectral aesthetic in Lockwood & Co also takes inspiration from the past. “We started by looking at Victorian spirit photography. Because photography is pre-digital, it’s chemical, the ghosts feel very different, like a real physical presence. They feel as if they exist in the world of natural physics – we can’t really get away with hiding them.

“In other movies or TV shows you might glimpse a ghost as a jump scare and then it’s gone. Our ghosts are really present, and our characters fight with them, so we had to come up with a design that you could really train the camera on, and involve in an action sequence, and would be able to leap around and dive and swoop and bolt into a corner.

“They’re all made out of smoke, they’re all made out of something ethereal. There are lots of different types in the series, lots of colours and densities and shapes. We tried to get away from super-digital ghosts and make them feel like they could really exist in a science experiment.”

Lockwood & Co looses its phantoms in some genuinely creepy abodes. What’s the secret of bringing a legitimately goosefleshing haunted house to the screen?

“We worked really hard on lighting, and light levels, making sure stuff was legible enough but that you’re also slightly peering into the shadows. I think sound is hugely important, and also silence. A lot of modern media is frightened of silence and when nothing happens that’s often the most interesting moment. We tried not to do too many jump scares. We do one or two, but we try and create an atmosphere of creeping fear rather than give people heart attacks.”

Stroud’s five-novel Lockwood series launched with The Screaming Staircase in 2013 (the TV version adapts this tale but also goes beyond it, Cornish reveals). Its young ghostbusters are Lucy Carlyle, gifted with psychic powers, and Anthony Lockwood, the dashing and enigmatic founder of the only agency to operate without adult supervision. The show captures the dashing spirit of the books, quippy heroes slicing at wraiths with rapiers, but plays things commendably straight.

“It’s a very sincere endeavour,” acknowledges Cornish. “We believe in the characters and we believe in the world. Stuff like this only works if you really commit to it and decide that it’s real. I don’t love shows where the characters are winking at the camera, or there are meta jokes. I want the world to be completely absorbing and credible.

“One of the most important and compelling things for people who love these books is the relationship between Lockwood and Lucy. It’s a relationship that has an enormous fandom – there’s an amazing amount of fan art out there. It’s a sort of unrequited will-they-won’t they relationship. This is a world where young people shoulder an incredibly grave burden, at a time in their life when they shouldn’t be thinking about death, or mortality, all the things that older people have to think about, and yet here they are, armed with weapons, having to fight things that could kill them.

“But then another brilliant thing about the novels is that if you get too depressed you get more vulnerable, so the ghosts can get you if you feel too bleak. So they have to cheer each other up and make quips and jokes, for safety purposes. We just approached the whole thing as if it was completely real.”

Given the rabid fandom, getting the casting of the leads right was crucial. Bridgerton’s Ruby Stokes ultimately won the role of Lucy. “She’s the centre of the story,” Cornish tells SFX. “She’s vulnerable, damaged, kind of abused and exploited as a child, comes from a broken home, has lost her father, yet has incredible gumption and ambition and a very strong sense of self-preservation. “She has this gift that she really doesn’t want, and she packs her bags, runs away from home and sets out to London with no qualifications, nowhere to stay the night. Her powers are an expression of her emotional sensitivity. In the book it’s like teenage emotions are being made into a supernatural power.

“So we just had to find an incredible young actor who felt like she could do it, and who you believed had that inner emotional life. Before I did this I always wondered how castings worked, whether there was some super complicated methodology. But a person just walks into the room and you go, ‘Do I believe that she’s Lucy?’ Ruby was actually one of the first people we saw, and we all just went, ‘Oh, there she is! There’s Lucy Carlyle!’”

Newcomer Cameron Chapman bagged the title role. “Lockwood was much harder, actually,” shares Cornish. “We saw hundreds and hundreds of actors, and Cameron came in pretty late in the day, at the eleventh hour. And that’s equally hard, because he’s got to be sort of handsome and cool and yet really vulnerable and haunted. He’s got to have swagger and braggadocio but also be a bit of a bullshit artist. He’s like a sort of teen entrepreneur. In the ’80s everybody wanted to be a teen entrepreneur, and he’s that made flesh. But he’s also wounded and secretive and has sort of a death wish.

“Cameron had all that. Weirdly, he looks very like the illustrations on the book covers, and he wears that long coat really well. He does the charisma, he does the vulnerability, he’s a bit of a dick – not in real life, in terms of acting! – and then he can be very romantic and swoony. It’s a heck of a part for a young actor.

Out of the three main actors [Ali Hadji-Heshmati plays George, Lockwood’s second-in-command] he’s the guy who really hadn’t been on camera before, but he does an exceptional job.” But while fan approval is vital, even more key is winning the heart and mind of the man who dreamed up Lucy, Lockwood and their spook-riddled world in the first place.

“Jonathan has been very involved from the start,” says Cornish. “I formed a relationship with him in order to get him to give us the rights to the book, and then we’ve let him read every draft of the scripts. He’s come to visit the set, he’s sat down with the actors. He’s really into it and he’s been extraordinarily supportive, but sensibly he said to us, ‘Look, you go and do your thing. I understand this is a different beast, between the page and the screen.’

“But I hope, and I trust, that he has been surprised by how much we’ve just stuck to what he’s done. Because it’s really, really good. He’s provided pretty incredible material.”

Lockwood & Co is on Netflix from 27 January.