#Great Exhibition of the North

[world-of-wales]

The Duke of Cambridge attended a reception at the Baltic Centre for Contemporary Art during a visit to The Great Exhibition Of The North in Gateshead || 7 SEPTEMBER 2018

[justrichardarmitage]

north-and-prejudice:

John & Margaret’s height difference (2/2)

[busylilbee]

The Vibe of my life at the moment is my best friend and I discussing going on a 40+ drive through largely remote grizzly territory where we would be sleeping in our car with all of our food and shit and being like "if the car gets attacked by a bear in the night and we have to scramble to the front to make a get-away half asleep at least it will be a funny story"

[moonastro]

groom persona chart

north node in the houses

what is a groom persona chart? this chart exhibits qualities that your husband will have and possible placements that can be seen in their chart. it is simply a chart all about your spouse in a woman's chart. the asteroid groom can be identified using the code 5129.

the nn in the groom persona chart can symbolise what we will learn from each other from our husband and he from you. its also what fate events are stored in for the couple.

reminder: this is my interpretation from observations and first hand experiences, so don't take this to heart.

nn in 1st house: this placement may have some identity issues with their partner and its not like omg he's so much more better than i am no no, this placement can usually question you whether you are doing a good job of being a partner to your husband, always worrying about them, making sure they have the same feelings towards you, constantly may battle your mind into thinking they dont love you as much as you love them, its more of concern or worry rather than anything else. the fate of your relationship with your husband can be tied down to creating an image of yourself through your partner or through their eyes. constantly this placement may encounter fate to do with rumours of their relationship, and being forced to live with others peoples opinions about their marriage or their partner, some may think that you could have done better or vice versa.

nn in 2nd house: the thing that you and your husband can have to go through is learning how to live with each other. it may be strange and there can be some invasion with personal space and getting used to having to share your stuff with them but its what you may have to work through. i feel like you two may have to go through a certain time with struggles with money if this is aspected badly, like there could be a time where you may be unemployed during your relationship with your spouse or vice versa. what i also noticed with this placement is that you and your partner could have to got through some sort of asset situation, depending of the aspects, this can be losing things, being prone to breakages/burglars/ stealing, or just spending money on useless things that done serve you for good.

nn in 3rd house: this placement can go through phases of communication blockages. often misunderstanding each other but it gives great opportunities to work on it and take time to understand one another, their intentions and their motives. the destiny for this placement allows the person to teach one another and especially learn about each other, constantly finding things about each other, however, i did realise some misunderstanding that comes with this placement that can make you think why your partner lets say acts the way he does or vice versa. language barriers are very common with this placement, often having a spouse who speaks another language.

nn in 4th house: this placement offers some time to getting used to each others comfort and energy. this attracts your partner and yourself to accumulate how to comfort each other and make each others safe place which indicates differences in style of living, agreeing on how to decorate your home according to both needs as you may have different styles and way of living. the destiny set for your relationship is creating a family dynamic between each other, having kids or having lots of it can be common for this placement. usually you can have difficulty expressing ones feelings for one another and can have your own way of expressing your love which can be quite indifferent for each of you, can be as simple as approaching this unconventionally, for example love language instead of expressing ones emotion could be making a cup of coffee every single morning, or agreeing to every tantrum they have etc.

nn in 5th house: you can actually learn how to be more carefree and loosen up when in a relationship with your husband. they will teach you how to be more creative, how to take initiative in different ways such as having a different approach to life. destiny set for this couple is definitely having different creative motives, one can be very creative, always creating new things, being active with art, music, developing etc and the other can be the opposite so that may be something this placement can have to work with and go around with.

nn in 6th house: fate with this placement can be rather difficult, you may have to go through different stages of reflection with your partner, always trying to find time for each other, work can be crazy for both of you or for one of you, this placement really needs to slow down with life and focus on each other rather than your own individually. usually the couple can be too busy for each other and with that could cause some trouble with creating a bond as they may even view each other as room mates at times as their lives can literally be like a schedule, wake up, work, home, sleep that kind of thing. usually destiny associated with this can be learning how to live with each others flaws, differences with their home styles, like one can be cleaner than the other or one may always clean and the other hates to clean etc.

nn in 7th house: destiny set for this couple can definitely be learning how to be loyal with one another. there can be some struggle associated with relationship issues such as cheating or being unfaithful for your partner. also having crushes and liking other people while being in a relationship with your partner can also be something that could happen for this placement. creating enemies while in a relationship with your spouse can be common, usually because you and your spouse could be very attractive and others may have crushes on both or one or the other and so this creates some enemies because you chose each other rather than the other people who thought they had a chance with you.

nn in 8th house: north node in the 8th house can bring an extreme intense change of outlook and setting of your life. with your husband, everything can completely change in your life from you comfort to your surroundings. the lesson that you may learn from each other is learning how to share emotions that suit both partners. there can be a missing piece to your bond but your fate with your husband can be to settle down with whatever transformations you may go through, talk through it and create comfort for one another. also, there can be rather extreme moment that happen between you two so it is important to be there for your partner and him for you in these hard moments. you may bond through your hard moments as well and that can create a very close relationship between you two.

nn in 9th house: so for this placement, the couple will eventually learn from each others previous experiences that they had and share them amongst each other and that may mould you or you husband. this placement has full faith in their partner meaning that whatever you may mention to your spouse, he may take it personally and have the same impressions as you. your fate with your husband can be tied to having same opinions and learning how to get over the indifferences in each others views and values. your relationship with your husband can thrive if there is a healthy solution to where you both agree to disagree or find a viewpoint in which you both agree with. there can be some getting used to your in laws as well.

for example-my mother has this placement and she has a difficult relationship with her siblings therefore whatever she says to her partner, he believes her and most of the things she talks about them is negatively and so my father has the same negative outlook on her siblings as well if that makes sense. even though he didn't see it happen or didn't experienced the negative experiences with them, he still hold a grudge towards her siblings even though they did not do those things towards him. its him believing her and her opinions. this also makes sense as the sign its in is in cancer so the emotional, trust, and family topics relates to her opinions and the fate that both share.

nn in 10th house: this placement often has some struggle with career and public image. usually one may view their career as the most serious thing in the world and may put it before their partner. also one partner can act one way at home and completely different when in public and in front of other people which can be something you would have to work on as this can be caused from being scared to be viewed a certain way. being too strict on your spouse, constantly arguing about things, having misaligning attraction towards each other, one may love the other more than the other does to them.

nn in 11th house: this placement has destiny set with their partner to do with social life, usually friends or anyone that either you or your partner hangs out with can cause some issues for the relationship, maybe causing less time to hang out like always being with friends rather than your partner, or going out to a friend or with a friends instead of hanging out with your partner and this can go both ways also. differences in goals, sympathetic reasonings like you may have different approaches to the problems with the world or people who have it way harder than you and your spouse could not care less, this can cause problems.

nn in 12th house: the thing you have to go through with your future spouse is that you'll have to learn how to spiritually connect with your husband. the destiny set for your relationship with your spouse is to finish something from a previous life with them, completing business and thriving in the place you are supposed to be with your partner. also being able to combat and talk through addictive substances for either you or your spouse as one of you may have an addiction to smoking, drinking, vaping whatever it maty be. it may be an issue as this can mean that you may not like it how your spouse does it or vice versa. another thing with this placement is that you'll have to get though unrealistic expectations of your spouse, you may think or idolise your spouse to a point where you can be disappointed so that could be an issue also.

[blueiscoool]

How Hadrian’s Wall is Revealing a Hidden Side of Roman History

A party invitation. A broken flipflop. A wig. Letters of complaint about road conditions, and an urgent request for more beer.

It sounds like the aftermath of a successful spring break, but these items are nearly 2,000 years old.

They’re just some of the finds from Hadrian’s Wall – the 73-mile stone wall built as the northwestern boundary of the Roman Empire, sealing off Britannia (modern-day England and Wales) from Caledonia (essentially today’s Scotland).

While most of us think of Pompeii and Herculaneum if we’re thinking of everyday objects preserved from ancient Rome, this outpost in the wild north of the empire is home to some of the most extraordinary finds.

“It’s a very dramatic stamp on the countryside – there’s nothing more redolent of saying you’re entering the Roman empire than seeing that structure,” says Richard Abdy, lead curator of the British Museum’s current exhibition, Legion, which spotlights the everyday life of Roman soldiers, showcasing many finds from Hadrian’s Wall in the process. A tenth of the Roman army was based in Britain, and that makes the wall a great source of military material, he says.

But it’s not all about the soldiers, as excavations are showing.

A multicultural melting pot

Hadrian, who ordered the wall to be built in 122CE after a visit to Britannia, had a different vision of empire than his predecessors, says Frances McIntosh, curator for English Heritage’s 34 sites along Hadrian’s Wall.

“All the emperors before him were about expanding the empire, but Hadrian was known as the consolidator,” she says. He relinquished some of the territory acquired by his predecessor Trajan, and “decided to set the borders” – literally, in some cases, with wooden poles at sites in Germany, or with stone in Britannia. Where those poles rotted thousands of years ago, the wall is still standing: “A great visual reminder” of the Roman empire, says McIntosh.

It’s not just a wall. There’s a castle every mile along, and turrets at every third-of-a-mile point, with ditches and banks both north and south. “You can imagine the kind of impact that would have had, not just on the landscape but on the people living in the area,” says McIntosh.

And thanks to the finds from the wall, we know a surprising amount about those people.

Although historians have long thought of army outposts as remote, male-dominant places, the excavations along the wall show that’s not the case. Not only were soldiers accompanied by their families, but civilians would settle around the settlements to do business. “ You can almost see Housesteads as a garrison town,” says McIntosh. “There were places you could go for a drink and so on.”

The Roman rule of thumb was not to post soldiers in the place they came from, because of the risk of rebellion. That meant Hadrian’s Wall was a cultural melting point, with cohorts from modern-day Netherlands, Spain, Romania, Algeria, Iraq, Syria – and more. “It was possibly more multicultural because it was a focus point,” says McIntosh, who says that the surrounding community might have included traders from across the empire.

Soldiers were split into two groups. Legionaries were Roman citizens from Italy, who had more rights than other soldiers and imported olive oil, wine and garum (a sauce made from decomposing fish).

They worked alongside auxiliaries – soldiers from conquered provinces, who had fewer rights, but could usually acquire citizenship after 25 years of service.

Soldiers carved their names and regiments on stones to show which part of the wall they built – around 50 of them are on display at Chesters fort.

But the wall shows that women and children were equally present.

McIntosh says that pottery brought to the camps – from the Low Countries and North Africa – shows that the soldiers “brought their families, who cooked in traditional style.” Archaeologists have found what seems to be an ancient tagine for North African-style cooking.

A tombstone from Arbeia fort for a woman named Regina shows she was a freed slave from southern Britain who was bought by – and married to – a Syrian soldier.

Another woman buried at Birdoswald fort was laid to rest with chainmail that appears to be from modern-day Poland. “Perhaps she married someone in the army,” says McIntosh, who calls the wall a “melting pot of people from all over the world under the banner of the army.”

“They brought their own religions, as well as worshipping Roman gods and adopting local deities,” she adds. At Carrawburgh, a temple to Mithras – an originally Persian deity – sat near a spring with a shrine to a local water spirit.

‘Wretched little Brits’

Some of the most extraordinary finds from the Roman empire are coming from one site on Hadrian’s Wall: Vindolanda. Here, archaeologists have found a wealth of organic remains because of what curator Barbara Birley calls the “unusual conditions onsite.”

At Vindolanda there are the remains of at least nine forts over 14 levels. “When the Romans would leave, they would knock down timber forts, and cover the area with turf and clay, sealing the layers underneath,” she says.

“Because it happened so many times, the bottom five or six layers are sealed in anaerobic conditions, so things don’t decay. When we get down there, we get wooden objects, textiles, anything organic.”

Vindolanda has the largest collection of Roman textiles from a single site in western Europe, as well as the largest leather collection of any site in the Roman empire – including 5,000 shoes, and even a broken leather flip-flop. “We probably had a population of 3,000 to 6,000 depending on the period, so 5,000 is a lot,” says Birley. For Abdy, the shoes evoke the conditions of the wet borderlands. “Women’s and children’s shoes are hobnailed – you needed it in the mucky frontier dirt tracks. They’re very evocative.”

There’s even a wig made from a local plant, hair moss, which is said to repel midges – the scourge of Scotland during the summer. A centurion’s helmet is also crested with hairmoss – the ancient equivalent of spraying yourself with insect repellent.

The first woman to write in Latin

One of the most famous finds is the trove of wooden writing tablets – the largest found anywhere.

“They give a snapshot of what life was actually like,” says Birley. “We understand so much more from written correspondence than from ‘stuff,’ and, archaeologically, it’s the stuff that usually survives – things like metals and ceramics.

“These were written in ink, not on a wax stylus tablet, and we believe they were used for what we’d put in emails: ‘The roads are awful,’ ‘The soldiers need more beer.’ Everyday business.”

The tablets – or “personal letters” as Birley describes them – were found on the site of a bonfire when the ninth cohort of Batavians (in the modern-day Netherlands) were told to move on.

“They had a huge bonfire and lots of letters were chucked in the fire. Some have been singed – we think it may have rained,” she says. One of them calls the locals “Britunculi” – “wretched little Brits.” Another talks about an outbreak of pinkeye. One claims that the roads are too bad to send wagons; another laments that the soldiers have run out of beer.

Among the 1,700 letters are 20 that mention a woman called Sulpicia Lepidina. She was the wife of the commander of the garrison, and seems to have played a crucial role. There’s a letter to her from another woman, Paterna, agreeing to send her two medicines, one a fever cure.

Birley says it’s similar to today. “If you’re a group of moms, still today we say, ‘Do you have the Calpol?’ It’s very human.” For Abdy, it’s a sign that women were traders. “She’s clearly flogging her medicines,” he says. “It’s really great stuff.”

Another tablet is an invite from Claudia Severa, the wife of another commander at a nearby camp. It’s an invitation to a birthday party. Under the formal invitation, presumably written by a scribe, is a scrawl in another hand: “I shall expect you, sister. Farewell, sister, my dearest soul.”

Presumably written by Claudia herself, it is thought to be the earliest example of a woman’s handwriting in Latin.

Without the organic finds – the shoes and the letters that indisputably belonged to women, unlike jewellery or weaving equipment – it’s difficult to prove conclusively that women lived in significant numbers. Vindolanda “illustrate the missing gaps,” says Abdy. For Birley, they prove that women were as crucial a part of army communities as men. “Before the Lepidina tablets were found we didn’t really understand the interactions between the soldiers and their wives,” she says. Another tablet is written by what is thought to be a Spanish standard-bearer’s common-law wife, ordering military equipment for her partner.

“The Vindolanda collection is showing that there weren’t just camp followers and prostitutes; women were part of everyday life, and contributing to the military community in many ways,” says Birley.

Abdy says that Hadrian’s Wall is interesting because the resident women span “all classes of society,” from Regina – the dead freedwoman, who would have been “bottom of the heap” – to the trader Paterna and the noblewoman Lepidina.

And of course, there’s the wall itself.

“In the Netherlands and Germany the finds are often stunning and better preserved – you go to museums and are bowled over. But in terms of structural remains, Hadrian’s Wall must be among the best,” says McIntosh, modestly, of her site.

Abdy agrees: “I can’t think of many symbols so redolent of imperial will than that wall.”

By Julia Buckley.

[sluttysnowangel666]

The Woman Beyond the Wall

Cregan Stark x Wilding!Fem reader

Summary: Cregan must go beyond the wall to aid Castle Black after a large group of Nights Watch men are killed under strange circumstances, only for him to discover the “strange circumstance” is a beautiful and mysterious wilding woman that will make him forget everything he thought he knew.

not proof read yet!!

cw: angst, smut, dom fem reader, dom cregan, freaky cregan, reader is kind of odd 😭

word count: long af

part 2 , masterlist

⛫ ⛫ ⛫

Cregan sat, contemplating the decision before him.

“Forgive me, sirs. The kingdom greatly appreciates the sacrifice you men have made to serve the Nights Watch, but I cannot abandon my duties as a lord to go beyond the wall for Gods knows how long.” He tells them, hoping they won’t take offense to his declination to participate.

“We wouldn’t ask if we were not desperate, my lord.” The maester says, “But 15 men have disappeared just in this past exhibition. The Nights Watch grows scarce of fighters the more men beyond the wall continue to disappear.”

Cregan sighs, not wanting to go beyond the wall and leave his kingdom without a lord, but also not wanting to leave the Watch vulnerable.

“Alright, Maester Devron.” Cregan sighs, “We owe you men a great debt… I need to know what are these strange circumstances you speak of?”

“Men have reported finding the abandoned bodies with arrows in both their eyes, perfectly positioned every time. It’s rather… unusual how perfectly calculated the shot is. It never changes. Then, the bodies are positioned in circles, with no footsteps left behind. We fear it to be witching.”

A shiver ran up Cregan’s spine, but he hid it well. Witches were almost always stories told by Septs to children in an attempt to get them to behave, so to hear a maester say it was unnerving.

“Don’t be ridiculous, maester.”

“I am not jesting, my lord. When you find the group of men who disappeared only a fortnight ago, you’ll see.”

“When? Not if? How can you be so sure I’ll find them?” Cregan asks.

“She leaves them in the same place every time. About 20 miles beyond the wall, facing north.” The maester says.

Cregan sighs, already frustrated with the venture, and eager to kill a wildling.

———

3 days later, 15 miles beyond the wall, and alone in the blistering cold, Cregan couldn’t help but contemplate his decision. Although he was miserable, he knew it was the honorable thing to do. He wouldn’t have done it, if otherwise.

His horse stopped suddenly, its hair raising and body becoming stiff.

“Dusk.” He said her name. “Move.”

His horse ignored him, standing her ground. “Dusk!” He yelled at her.

She sensed something, but he didn’t know what.

They sat there for what felt like hours, but what was merely seconds.

Finally, the horse began to tredge forward… very, very, slowly. Cregan groaned in frustration, his hands gripping the reins.

They walked like that for miles. No matter how much Cregan tugged the reins, Dusk maintained her slow pace, as if anticipating something was nearby, ready to pounce on them at any given moment.

Night eventually came, and Cregan was forced to set up camp.

“Bloody horse.” He mumbled to himself as he tied her to a nearby tree.

He set up a fire nearby Dusk, then leaned against the tree she was tied to. He fidgeted with the dagger he kept in his armor, carving little dire wolves in the bark. He spoke to Dusk, hoping the already timid horse would comfort his feeling of isolation in the barren icy landscape. It didn’t help.

He eventually fell asleep standing up, leaning his weight against the tree, too on edge to leave himself vulnerable on the ground.

The fire near him had gone out, leaving nothing but the red glowing embers.

The wildling who had been following them for miles used this to her advantage.

She stalked quietly, her boots making no noise or crunch as if she weren’t even there, floating like a ghost.

She made no attempt to immediately kill him, but kept her bow poised, ready to grab an arrow and fly it into his eye if he woke. Normally, any crow out here would’ve been dead miles ago, but this man wasn’t a crow.

She believed him to be a lord, and when her fingers grazed the dire wolf on his chest she knew him to be a Stark. Excitement fueled the fire burning in her veins. She had never seen a lord, especially one so handsome.

Her fingers twirled one of his brown locks, but when he shuffled in his sleep she quickly backed away like a scared bunny.

She decided she would let the cold kill the handsome man, but not before taking a souvenir to remember him.

Her slim, dainty fingers wove into his furs, silently snagging the dagger strapped to his chest. She twirled it in her fingers, admiring the craftsmanship. No smith she had ever met was as talented as the one who made this dagger. She traced the wolf sigil on the handle, then ran the sharp tip of the blade along her finger. A drop of blood hit the snow in front of their feet, and then she ran, snow immediately falling to cover her tracks.

When Cregan awoke, he immediately knew someone had been in the camp. But, how? How could someone have even passed through without him waking?

He looked down, and picked up the snow with the drop of blood on it. His blood immediately ran cold, colder than it already was. There were no footprints. Where could this have even come from?

He checked himself, but was free of any cuts. It was here he noticed… his dagger.

“What in Gods…” He mumbled, feeling all around his body to make sure he hadn’t misplaced it.

He angrily yells into the trees, cursing and violently threatening the woman who stole his dagger, hoping she heard him.

And she does. She quietly giggles in a nearby tree at his brutish behavior. He kicks the burnt wood from the fire, startling his horse.

He mounts the horse, slowly trekking onward to find the bodies of the missing men.

Within the hour, he finds himself at the base of the men’s camp, their bodies positioned like how the maester said they would be.

Cregan sighs, dismounting his horse and staring at the corpses, their bodies frozen and not yet decomposed from the harsh cold.

He was, for the first time in his life, unsure of what to do. He knew the woman had already found him, but how was he to find her? He assumed she left him alive out of mercy, but he knew there was no chance of finding her unless she wanted him to.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, slightly embarrassed at his desperation. “Alright, witch! I know you’re out there!” He yelled into the trees, not actually knowing if she was out there.

She was, and she paid attention as he continued.

“I don’t know your goal, if you even have one!” He paused, not even knowing what else to say. “Stop killing these men!” He said, lacking in confidence. She giggled again. Quite an entertaining man he was.

He gave up, tired of feeling foolish. He began dragging the bodies into a pile, preparing to burn them. It took nearly half of his day, and when he was done he finally sat, sweating, despite the cold.

After his brief rest, he burnt them, saying the custom words, “And now their watch is ended.”

He watched, silently mourning the fallen men who gave their life.

Afterwards, he mounted his horse and started his journey back to the wall. There would be no finding the woman. She was rogue, didn’t run in a pack. He’d be searching for the rest of his life if he stayed.

He didn’t make it far, only a few miles before night fell upon him and his horse. He didn’t want to rest, but he had no choice. The day had worn him, and traveling at night was unwise when he couldn’t see his surroundings.

He set a fire again, and sat down, forcing himself to stay awake.

Suddenly, his horse whined. He whipped his head around, standing to his feet quickly.

“Whoa, whoa. Calm down.” He said, trying to shush the mare. The horse bucked, breaking its reins from the tree before scurrying off.

“Fuck!” Cregan cursed, angrily. What in Gods names was he to do now?

A voice rang out behind him.

“Pretty little beast you’ve got there.”

He whipped around again, unsheathing his sword.

A woman knelt across the fire, her bow and arrow already drawn. She wore gray, thick pelts and gloves, and a pair of fur clad boots. No wonder she was so silent. She pulled her thick hood off, revealing the most beautiful set of eyes Cregan had ever seen. The woman was gorgeous, ethereal. She literally took his breath away.

“Suppose I should say had there.” She teases.

“It’s you.” He finally says, after a moment of silence.

“Mm.” She hums in response. “And who might you be?”

“I think you already know, given you raided my camp last night.”

She laughs. “Raided? You southerners.”

“You’d do well to mind your tongue, witch.” Cregan spits at her, tightening his grip on his sword.

She notices and stands, raising her bow, “And you’d do well to mind yours, crow.”

“I’m not a crow.”

“And I’m not a witch.” She pauses, tilting her head. “Sharp little tongue on you. Ain’t you lords supposed to treat ladies with respect?”

“What kind of lady are you? Killing good men and desecrating their bodies?”

“I never desecrated them. In fact, I left them better than I found them.”

“Those were noble men.”

“Please.” She laughs. “Those crows were rapists and thieves. The north is better without them coming into our land.”

Cregan says nothing, so she continues. “I suggest you watch how you speak to me, Lord Stark. I could shoot this arrow right through those pretty gray eyes before you’d even realize what happened.”

“Try it, witch.”

“I already told you. I’m no witch!” She lets the arrow fly, only intending to let it kiss his ear and hit the tree behind him, but he raises his sword, and the arrow shatters against the Valyrian steel.

She lowers her bow, shocked, before her features return to their stoic form.

“It appears I’ve met my match.” She smirks, impressed.

“Perhaps you have. For that reason, I’d suggest returning my dagger.”

She pulls it out. “Oh, this pretty thing? I think I’ll keep it… Unless you’re brave enough to come take it from me.”

Heat flushed through his stomach. For the first time in his life, a woman repeatedly left him at a loss for words. He did not know how to approach her, or how to respond.

“You obviously walk these woods often. How do I get back to the wall?”

“Simple.” She smiles, “South.”

Cregan stomps towards her. She nervously laughs, backing into a tree as he presses himself against her, his height towering above her own.

“Show me the way or I’ll put your pretty little head above my mantel.”

She breathlessly chuckles, “All you have to do is ask nicely, Stark.” She places her hand on his broad chest, giving it a light push yet keeping her hands entangled in his armor straps. He grabs her wrist, pulling it from him. He removes her quiver from her back, tossing it on the ground. He takes her bow from her other hand, going to give it the same treatment before she stops him.

“No, wait, please don’t leave my bow.” She asks, genuineness in her voice for the first time. He searches her eyes, but finds no answer there.

“You won’t need it where you’re going.” He responds.

“Leave my bow and you’ll die in these woods. And trust me, southerner, you’ll die long before I do.” He looks at the darkness that clouds her eyes, then grunts and puts the large bow around his body.

She smirks as he ties her wrists together, dragging her along behind him. “We’re going now? These woods aren’t safe at night.”

“The sooner you’re no longer my problem, the better.”

She stops in her place, but he gives her a yank that pulls her to the ground, dragging her body behind him. “I’m serious! We need to stay at your sad little camp.”

“One more word out of you and I’ll cut out your tongue.” He says. He takes a few more steps, still dragging her, before stopping. He knows she’s right, but refuses to admit it. He growls in frustration, turning back towards the camp.

She laughs, still being dragged on the ground. What a strange woman. He thinks to himself.

He sits back in front of the fire, still holding the rope attached to her wrist as she crawls towards him.

“Do you have any food?” She asks. He sighs, taking out a little sack of dried meat. He holds a piece out to her, and not moving from her knees, takes it from his hand with her mouth.

“You’re bloody off.” He mumbles to himself. She laughs, a strange and wicked laugh in an attempt to scare him, as well as mock him for thinking she was a witch.

It works, as it startles him into giving her a confused look. He picks up a big pile of snow, throwing it into the fire to put it out.

He lays down on the snow, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. She crawls towards him, opening his arms and lying against his chest.

“Get off me, woman.” He says, pushing her.

“I’m cold! You’re telling me an honorable Stark is going to let a woman freeze to death?”

“Witches don’t get cold. Your blood runs with fire.”

“You southerners and your silly little-“ He pulls her into him, wrapping his big arms around her. He hates to admit it, but her warmth comforted him from the cold.

“I’ll keep you warm if you shut up.”

She listens for once, saying nothing and nuzzling her head into his chest. He sighs, not having the strength to push her away… but not really wanting to either.

Her knee forces his legs apart to push her leg between his, slowly lifting it towards his crotch. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing?” She says, playing dumb. He doesn’t respond. She wiggles her knee more, rubbing her thigh against the leather covering his manhood.

“Stop. Moving.” He says.

“Was I? Sorry, didn’t notice.”

He shifts, trying to keep her from noticing the bulge growing in his leathers.

———

Cregan awakes before her. He stares down at the woman against his chest, her cheeks are tinted from the cold, and her lips are parted slightly. He admires her for a long time before she stirs. He pushes her away, thinking she’s awake.

“Ow.” She grumbles, sleepily. “Why’d you do that?”

“We need to get moving.” He stands, brushing the snow off him.

“Can’t we just lay a bit longer? I didn’t sleep well with you poking me with that thing all night.” She says, running her hand up his knee.

“I wasn’t.” He responds quickly, pushing her hand down. She stands, stretching as best as she can with her hands tied.

They begin walking for a few miles, with her trying to make conversation with him.

“You’re a rather quiet man.” She says, when her previous questions get no response.

“I just don’t have many words for a woman like you.”

“I leave you speechless?” She says, with a smirk.

“Try annoyed.” He responds flatly.

She steps close to him, pressing her chest into his back.

“What are you-“ Before he can realize what she’s doing, she cuts the rope on her wrists on his sword.

He whips around, prepared to knock her unconscious, but she’s too quick. She ducks, kicking his ankle and sweeping him down.

He hits the ground hard, but is back on his feet almost instantly. She runs, fast, beyond him.

He chases after her.

“Witch!” He yells, turning to look for her in every direction after she seemingly vanished.

“I told you I’m not a witch.” She says, stepping from behind a tree.

He stomps towards her, grabbing her by both of her arms, itching to give her a good smack across the face.

He looks down at her, that sly little smirk on her face, her cheeks red and flush, staring back up at him through her wet eyelashes.

She moves her arms from his grip, tracing her skinny fingers up his armor.

“You’re…” He whispers, starting to lose his strength. “Unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”

She grabs him by his neck, and he gasps in shock, but it’s quickly cut off as she pulls him down to meet her lips. Her kiss is harsh and fierce. Cregan had known women, but never one so blatantly unapologetic to be herself. She growls like an animal, ripping to get off his furs and leathers.

He matches her intensity, kissing her with the same energy. He lets the anger she ignited in him release itself unto her by biting and kissing her neck. She tugs at his hair, grinding her hips into his.

“Are you a virgin?” He asks.

“Don’t be stupid.” She responds, taking a step back to remove her own furs. He steps back towards her, pulling them off her himself.

“I only ask for your comfort.” He growls, frustrated with her attitude.

“Comfort? This isn’t the south.” She pushes him back, standing before him naked and unashamed. He breathes in the sight before him, his length growing at her beauty.

She practically pounces on him, pushing him to the snow before he’s even fully undressed.

“You are a fucking witch.” He moans, as she crawls her way up his body to rest her wetness above his face.

“Are you hungry, wolf?” She asks him.

“Starving.” He whines, wanting to taste her.

Her grip on his hair pulls him towards her, finally bringing his mouth to taste her sweet cunt. He can’t help but look at her as he eats her. Her nose and cheeks are so red from the cold, all he wants to do is warm her up. His large arms have a hold on her thighs, his fingers resting between them. She pulls off his gloves, letting his fingers grip into her warm legs.

She moans and whines in ecstasy. The sound turns him into a wreck, clawing and gripping at her thighs to the point he draws blood. She doesn’t even care, relishing the sweet pain.

She pulls and tugs on his hair so harshly, forcing his face so deep into her cunt. If he even thought of stopping, she’d kill him herself. She grinds her hips into his tongue, crying and whining into the cold air. It seems as if everything has gone silent, even the winds, the world around them stopping to hear her sweet ecstasy. He moans her name into her cunt every time she pulls his hair, wanting to be her release. He’s desperate to taste her release, she’s desperate to give it to him.

Cregan, the man he was, never having been with a woman so lust driven, couldn’t help but urge his own desires to see her writhe in his arms. One of his hands left her bloody thigh, grabbing a cold chunk of snow to rub against her warm cunt. She gasped at the feeling, whining from the cold. He rubbed his fingers against her sweet spot. Her nails dug into the arm still on her leg, moaning his name as she finally let herself go onto his tongue.

He swallowed every drop, only wanting to taste her sweetness for the rest of his life.

When she came down, he shoved her off him, mounting her and positioning himself between her legs.

Her body was growing red from touching the bitter snow, but it seems like she hadn’t even noticed.

Cregan wrapped his hands around her throat, leaning in and giving her a deep kiss. “I could kill you right now if I wanted, get this whole mess you’ve caused for me over with.” He whispered into her lips.

“You won’t.” She whispered back. “Not before you get to even fuck my sweet cunt.” She reaches her cold hand down, snaking it into his breeches and rubbing his length.

“You’re right.” He kisses her again. “I want all of you.” She unlaces his breeches, pushing it down along with his soft clothes.

She glides him along her wet entrance, and Cregan groans. He pushes himself into her, eliciting a sweet gasp from her lips. He gives her no time to adjust, immediately thrusting his hips back and forth.

She moans, tears brimming her eyes, having never been fucked by a man so large as Cregan.

“What? Why are you crying? Never been fucked like how you deserve?” He growls. She does nothing but nod.

“Nothing?” He asks. “Have I finally shut you up?” He fucks her harder, and she pulls on his brown curls, using her other hand to scratch all along his back. Cregan loved the thought of it, coming home with battle scars from her. He kisses her jaw, licking her salty tears.

He stands and picks her up, worried about the cold getting to her skin. He pins her to a tree, her back scraping against the bark. It hurts in such a sweet way, better than the cold snow. She cries out his name so loud as he fucks her against it. His hands roam her body, wanting to feel all of her but also wanting to warm her up.

“Tell me it true, Cregan.” She moans, her naughty attitude returning with a smirk. “Are you going to kill me?”

She knows his answer before he even does. He growls as a response, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing that sweet cunt bested the Lord of Winterfell.

“I hate you.” He growls, fucking her even harder so she shuts up. “You killed innocent men.”

She laughs and moans at the same time, “I killed crows, My Lord.” He moans at ‘My Lord’ “I’d never… fuck… harm an innocent man. That’s why you’re here now, fucking my dripping cunt.”

He wraps one of his hands around her throat, the other holding her up, his thrusts growing sloppy as he nears his peak. “Fucking witch.”

To his surprise, her hand finds his throat too, but he loves it. He loves her aggressiveness. She matches him, she’s practically a savage wolf herself.

He wants to pull out, knows he should pull out, but he can’t find the strength. All he can focus on is the wetness surrounding his length. His hands grip her waist in such a harsh way it’s bound to bruise, and he relishes in the thought of marking her so those other wildlings knew she was his now. He had claimed her, and any other man who dared try to touch her would meet the Gods.

He grabs her and pushes her back into the snow, falling on her hands and knees. His hand takes a grip in her hair, pulling her head back toward him and forcing her to arch her back. He fucks her in such a shameful way. If any lady in Winterfell were fucked like this, she’d nearly be a whore. But she was not a lady, so he felt no guilt fucking her how she deserved, and how she eagerly wanted. Her hips bucked into him, matching his rhythm.

She cried such sweet moans at the pleasure, finding her peak so close. Her fingers spread into the snow, shaking, and she released onto him again, and he growled, fucking into her until he found his own peak.

His spilled into her so deep it touched her womb. She rested her face in the snow, panting. He pushed her off of his length, her body falling into the cold. Cregan stood, out of breath, staring down at the woman in the snow, her body curled into a fetal position as she laid there catching her breath. He was hooked. Obsessed with her beauty and madness, even as she laid there sweaty and cold.

He grabbed his furs and sat beside her, pulling her into his lap and wrapping the warm furs around her.

“You might catch a chill.” He whispered, slightly worried now that their lust had subsided.

“I’m a witch, right? My blood runs with fire.” She breathed. He laughed softly.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile, Lord Stark.” She smiled, a soft and sweet smile. His heart nearly melted.

After dressing, they began walking again.

“Can we make a quick stop?” She asked, not letting him answer before she ran towards a cave in the not far off distance.

He sighs, not making an effort to chase her.

He walks into the dimly lit cave. It appeared lived in. He eyed the area, while pulling at his collar, due to the heat in the cave.

“Is this where you live?” He asked, his voice echoed back to him, making him feel alone.

She nodded, undressing herself again. “It’s a hot spring.”

She jumped into the water, moaning at the warmth. He twitched.

“You gonna just stand there lookin’ pretty?” She asked, her thick northern accent appearing. He sighed, slowly taking off his furs and armor before stepping into the hot water. She spit some of the water at him with a little smirk. He tried to hide his smile, but couldn’t. He grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him and into his lap. She curled her legs up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Let’s stay here.” She said, voice unsure. “You’re a wolf. You belong out here, not in the south.”

He took her hand in his. “My place is in Winterfell.”

“Then stay with me just for tonight.” She said. He sighed, pressing a soft kiss to her hand and nodding. She rested her wet head against his chest.

“I won’t cause any more trouble for you, Lord Stark.”

He sighed, knowing what it meant.

He yearned to bring her back to Winterfell, to give her a place in the castle, and to take her in his bed at night, but she was too wild. She would cause too much trouble for the servants and handmaidens. She would never be happy either.

He made it count, fucking her over and over again in that cave. When they slept, he held her close to him, refusing to even let her roll over. Her head fit perfectly against his neck. It felt like a crime to let her go.

———

They had been walking for three days to return to the wall, only growing closer and closer with each moment they spent together.

“I thought you said it was a day’s journey.” Cregan said.

“On horse.” He shot her a look, frustrated with the forgotten mention. She only smirked. He didn’t want to part from her just yet anyway.

“Lord Stark!” A voice yelled. He quickly pushed her behind him, unsheathing his sword and searching for where the voice came from. He was terrified for her, but she showed no fear. He knew if they seen her, they would kill her immediately.

4 men in black, all on horses trotted up besides them, encircling them.

“Gods, I can’t believe it.” The Lord Commander said, “You Starks, damn it. You put the rest of the North to shame. I can’t believe you found the witch.”

“I’m not a witch.” She said, but Cregan only grabbed her and wrapped his hand around her mouth, preventing her from starting a fight. She kicked and growled into his hand, but eventually submitted.

“Why is she still alive, m’lord? You should have taken her head the moment you found her.” A boy said.

“It’s not that easy. She’s strong, more useful alive.” Cregan said.

She kicked her foot back into his shin, stealing his sword from his hand. Cregan yelled and grabbed his leg. He grabbed her arm with his other hand with a harsh grip. Her elbow met his face, knocking him on the ground as blood pooled from his nose.

“Took you long enough to find your own way back here, crow.” She said, looking at the Lord Commander specifically, the heavy valyrian steel sword dragging from her hands onto the ground.

He only snickered at her.

“Don’t hurt yourself trying to lift that sword. I’d rather watch Stark behead you himself.”

“Can’t do your own dirty work?” She sneers.

Cregan sensed the tension but said nothing. He stood and grabbed her by the back of her neck, pulling her back and taking his sword from her. He stared her down, breathing angrily, his eyes fuming with rage. He wanted to take her on the snow again as revenge for breaking his nose, but restrained himself.

She looked back up at him, anger in her own eyes, his hand lingered on the back of her neck.

Cregan turned back around to face the Lord Commander. “I will not behead her. She is a prisoner of Winterfell.”

The Lord Commander fumed. “She’s killed half our men-“

“You killed half your men when you sent them searching for me.” She spits.

“Enough!” Cregan yelled, but she ignored him. She broke from his grip and ran at the Lord Commander. The horses spooked, bucking the other men off them and scattering.

She jumped, using the stirs of the saddle of his horse to mount it. She pulled out the dagger she stole from Cregan earlier, and slit the Lord Commander’s neck.

Hot blood spewed onto her face as he weakly grabbed at her throat. She smiled, that wicked smile again, licking the blood that spat across her face, her eyes wide with madness.

“Goodnight, crow.” She whispered.

Cregan ripped her off the horse, throwing her onto the ground.

“Do you understand what you have just done?!” He screamed at her. She smiled up at him, blood staining her teeth. She kissed him, the blood on their faces smearing. He briefly matched her love with the kiss, before pulling away.

He tried snatching the dagger back from her, “No, it’s mine!” She yelled.

He pulled her by her collar close to his face, “You have to go now… or I’ll kill you.”

Sadness swept across her face, her lip trembling like a scorned child.

“Keep your fucking dagger, then!” She yelled, stabbing it into his shoulder.

Cregan cried out, letting her go, and falling to the ground. He ripped the dagger from his shoulder. She used this as an opportunity to take her bow back from his body.

She reached into her boot, pulling out an arrow. She knocked it and drew it back. Cregan weakly jumped on the Lord Commander’s horse. The other Night’s Watch men were returning on their horses, having calmed and gathered them.

“Back to the wall!” Cregan commanded them. He didn’t turn to look at her. He knew if he had, she would’ve shot the arrow right through his eye. Instead, she hit him in his rib, perfectly hitting where it would hurt, but wouldn’t kill him. Cregan yelled in pain again.

The men rode off, not stopping until they made it to the wall. Cregan passed out multiple times on the way, visions of her flooding his thoughts as the men had to drag him to the maester.

She stayed in the same place for hours, sobbing and sobbing, as the icy cold froze her tears. Only when night fell then did she turn and leave, knowing she would never see the Lord again.

[blackstarlineage]

30 Ways Modern-Day Africans Still Exhibit a Colonial Mindset: A Garveyite Analysis

Marcus Garvey’s Pan-Africanist philosophy emphasized self-reliance, cultural pride, and the rejection of colonial influence. However, many Africans today still exhibit behaviours and attitudes rooted in a colonial mindset. Below are 30 examples, explained and analyzed in depth, from a Garveyite perspective:

1-10: Cultural Influence and Identity

1. Preference for European Standards of Beauty

Example: Many Africans prioritize lighter skin, straight hair, and European features over natural Black aesthetics.

Analysis: Skin-lightening creams and the global embrace of Eurocentric beauty ideals reflect internalized inferiority and rejection of African identity.

2. Disdain for African Languages

Example: African children are often discouraged from speaking native languages in favour of English, French, or Portuguese.

Analysis: Linguistic erasure ensures dependency on colonial languages for governance, education, and international relations.

3. Glorification of Western Education

Example: Degrees from European or North American universities are valued more than African ones.

Analysis: This reinforces the notion that African intellectual systems are inferior, perpetuating brain drain and dependency.

4. Adoption of Western Names

Example: Africans often give their children Western names instead of traditional African ones.

Analysis: This signifies a rejection of African heritage in favour of aligning with Western norms.

5. Colonial Religious Practices

Example: Christianity and Islam dominate African spiritual practices, while indigenous beliefs are demonized.

Analysis: Religion was used as a colonial tool to pacify and control, and its dominance reflects ongoing psychological colonization.

6. Rejection of African Fashion

Example: Western suits and dresses are deemed more "professional" than African attire in workplaces.

Analysis: Clothing reflects identity, and the preference for Western styles reinforces the idea that African traditions are primitive.

7. Accent Bias

Example: Africans with European or American accents are viewed as more intelligent or credible.

Analysis: This bias reflects internalized colonial superiority.

8. Neglect of African History

Example: African curricula prioritize European history over African empires like Mali, Songhai, or Great Zimbabwe.

Analysis: This erasure perpetuates ignorance about Africa’s rich heritage and contributions to civilization.

9. Worship of Western Entertainment

Example: Hollywood and European music dominate African media, sidelining local industries.

Analysis: This promotes cultural dependency and undervalues African creativity.

10. Desire to Migrate to the West

Example: Many Africans dream of emigrating to Europe or the U.S. for a "better life."

Analysis: This mindset undermines the potential of building strong nations on the continent.

11-20: Political and Economic Dependence

11. Reliance on Foreign Aid

Example: African governments often depend on Western aid for development projects.

Analysis: This fosters dependency and allows Western nations to control African policies.

12. Colonial Borders

Example: African nations still adhere to arbitrary colonial borders that divide ethnic groups.

Analysis: The refusal to renegotiate these borders reflects a lack of sovereignty and Pan-African unity.

13. Imitation of Western Governance

Example: African governments replicate Western political systems, often failing to adapt them to local contexts.

Analysis: Blind imitation undermines the development of systems rooted in African traditions and needs.

14. Dependence on Western Currencies

Example: The CFA franc, used by West and Central African nations, is controlled by France.

Analysis: This reflects continued economic colonization and inhibits financial independence.

15. Exploitation of Resources by Foreign Corporations

Example: Multinational companies exploit Africa's oil, minerals, and agriculture with little reinvestment.

Analysis: Africans prioritize Western partnerships over local ownership and control.

16. Outsourcing Security to Foreign Powers

Example: French troops stationed in Africa under the guise of fighting terrorism.

Analysis: This reinforces the narrative that Africans can not secure their own nations.

17. Preference for Imported Goods

Example: Imported clothing, food, and technology are seen as superior to local products.

Analysis: This devalues African production and stifles economic growth.

18. Neocolonial Debt Traps

Example: African nations take loans from institutions like the IMF, leading to perpetual debt.

Analysis: These loans come with conditions that undermine sovereignty.

19. Overdependence on Western Technologies

Example: Africa imports most of its technology rather than building local industries.

Analysis: This dependency stifles innovation and economic independence.

20. Election Interference by Western Powers

Example: Western nations influence African elections through funding or propaganda.

Analysis: This undermines democratic processes and reinforces external control.

21-30: Social and Psychological Patterns

21. Black Elitism

Example: Africans educated in the West often look down on those educated locally.

Analysis: This creates divisions within African societies and perpetuates classism.

22. Hostility Toward Pan-Africanism

Example: Resistance to efforts to unify Africa economically or politically.

Analysis: Colonial powers instilled fear of unity to prevent collective strength.

23. Undervaluing African Labour

Example: African workers are underpaid while foreign workers are overpaid for similar roles.

Analysis: This reflects an internalized belief in the superiority of non-African expertise.

24. Neglect of Local Agriculture

Example: African nations import staple foods like rice despite fertile lands.

Analysis: This prioritizes foreign economies over local food sovereignty.

25. Demonization of Traditional Medicine

Example: Preference for Western pharmaceuticals over indigenous remedies.

Analysis: This reflects distrust in African innovation and healing systems.

26. Preference for Colonial Languages in Art and Literature

Example: Writers and artists creating works in English or French to gain Western recognition.

Analysis: This marginalizes African languages and creativity.

27. Inferiority Complex Toward Western Nations

Example: Africans praise Western infrastructure while criticizing their own.

Analysis: This self-perception hinders the belief in African potential.

28. Overlooking the African Diaspora

Example: Africans often ignore the struggles and contributions of African Americans, Caribbeans, etc.

Analysis: Colonial divisions still separate the global African community.

29. Dependence on Colonial Education Systems

Example: African nations still use colonial curricula with minimal African content.

Analysis: Education is a tool of control, and this reflects ongoing intellectual colonization.

30. Hostility Toward Repatriation

Example: Africans discouraging descendants of the enslaved from returning to Africa.

Analysis: This reflects colonial teachings that Africa is undesirable or unworthy.

Garveyite Call to Action:

Marcus Garvey warned against mental colonization and called for:

Reclaiming African identity: Embrace African languages, cultures, and traditions.

Economic independence: Build industries, control resources, and support local economies.

Pan-African unity: Foster solidarity among Africans worldwide.

Rejection of Western validation: Recognize that Africa’s greatness does not depend on foreign approval.

“Liberate the minds of men, and ultimately, you will liberate the bodies of men.” – Marcus Garvey

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

BuckTommy Fluffebruary Day Twenty-Five is: Sharing a Blanket. This is set in the same day as yesterday's, which you can read here. It's just more of Tommy's birthday and Buck using his ruthless organization skills to make sure it's a great birthday. We love him for that. This one can be read on AO3 over here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

After going to the Academy Museum, the LA Museum of Art, and the Petersen Automotive Museum, Tommy is ready to sit down for a good long while. He's had so much fun, but it's been a lot of continuous walking since they're all right next to each other. Evan has just as much fun in museums as he does reading up on any subject on his tablet or phone. It's made the entire day feel like something bigger and more exciting than just walking around big buildings filled with old things. Tommy loves setting him loose in museums and following him and learning about everything through him, though the shoe had been on the other foot for the car and film stuff this time around.

When they get to his truck, Evan reels him in for a kiss, and Tommy feels a suspicious grope into the front pocket of his jeans. He breaks the kiss and Evan shakes the keys in front of him with a grin.

“Now comes the second part of your surprise,” he says, herding Tommy around to the passenger side.

Tommy dutifully gets into the truck and tries to look exasperated, but it's all for show. He doesn't get whisked away for things. He doesn't get breakfast in bed. He doesn't get someone equally excited about reading plaques at museums dedicated to art and movies and cars—literally Tommy's three favorite things. Evan had called the museums the “Triangle of Tommy” and had mourned them not going earlier.

Truth be told, he’s now had two great birthdays in a row thanks to his husband, probably the best ones of his adult life. So whatever Evan has planned next, Tommy is more than willing to go along with it.

It’s pretty evident that they’re heading inland, and Tommy can’t distract himself on his phone without making himself carsick. He doesn’t say anything, though, because Evan keeps trying to loudly distract him every time they pass any kind of sign that might hint at the direction they’re going. He allows it, playing several games of Twenty Questions related to the museums and their exhibits. They end up debating whether beef jerky is an acceptable road trip snack—Evan says yes, Tommy says no—and what constitutes a good rest area. They do stop for dinner at an In-N-Out in Cabazon, which makes Tommy wonder just how far they’re going.

By the time they’re getting close to Palm Springs, Evan can’t hide the direction they’re going on.

“Are you taking me to Palm Springs?” Tommy asks, amused. “In November?”

“No,” Evan says, and Tommy believes him.

And then he knows.

It’s the place he’s wanted to go but hasn’t, even though he’s been less than three hours away ever since he moved to LA. It’s the place they almost went for Evan’s birthday to actually go stargazing, but they’d gone to Shasta instead because there was supposed to be a great meteor shower happening with a better view more north.

Tommy can’t hide his smile when they pass the first sign for Joshua Tree, and Evan’s under no delusion that his question about the new inspector the city hired was at all distracting enough to keep him from noticing. He reaches over and squeezes Tommy’s hand.

They pull into their spot at the Indian Cove campground just as the sun is starting to set, and Evan climbs into the back of the bed to unearth two large camping boxes and the cooler that he’d hidden by using their bed cover like a sneaky little genius. Bundled in a tarp behind the boxes is their tent.

“Alright, I’m putting you to work,” Evan says, holding out a bundle of poles.

“On my birthday?” Tommy pouts.

Evan steps in close and hooks his finger in Tommy’s belt loop, the tip of his nose brushing Tommy’s and a sexy, lopsided grin on his face. “Wouldn’t be the first time today.”

Tommy hates that he can be so easily manipulated by the man he loves. Thankfully, Evan only uses his power for good. Mostly. When he grabs the poles, he retaliates by licking Evan’s bottom lip before stepping away to deal with them while Evan stakes down the tarp.

They get the campsite set up in record time, having done this quite a few times in the last couple of years. When they’re done, Evan builds their fire and sets up their chairs next to it, the arms almost locked together. He digs into one of the boxes for the collapsible marshmallow sticks—one of the best purchases Tommy’s ever made—and a bag of marshmallows, a box of graham crackers, and a stack of chocolate bars.

“Is this my birthday cake?” Tommy teases, spearing a marshmallow on each skewer and handing one to Evan.

“Nope, this is the dessert appetizer,” Evan says cheerfully, holding his marshmallow over the fire. “Your cake’s in the cooler.”

Tommy smiles. Only his husband would understand that a dessert appetizer is perfectly acceptable and a great idea. He leans over and kisses his cheek. “I love you.”

Evan smiles back and leans his head on Tommy’s shoulder. “I love you. Happy birthday, babe.”

They eat their s’mores—more than they should—and Evan pulls a small six-inch cake out of the cooler, and it has ‘Happy Birthday Tommy’ piped in tiny lettering. He lights two candles, one shaped like a 4 and one like a 2, and pops them onto the cake backwards so it looks like they’re celebrating Tommy’s 24th birthday instead. He sings quietly, and Tommy gets stuck in his eyes until Evan prompts him to blow out the candles.

He doesn’t make a wish, because he really doesn’t need to. He doesn’t need anything else.

After Evan cuts the cake, he ducks into their tent and returns with one of the blankets they use over their sleeping bag if it’s cold out. It’s November, so it’s cold in the desert now that the sun’s completely set. He sits next to Tommy on their camping chairs, settles the blanket over their laps, and they dig into the cake. It’s chocolate with salted caramel, and it’s so rich that Tommy wants a glass of milk to wash it down. Evan jumps up and grabs two small milk cartons from the cooler and hands him one. It’s perfect.

Full of cake and marshmallows, Tommy snuggles down in his chair and tugs the blanket up to his shoulders. Evan does the same, and they lean against each other and look up at the stars. There’s no moon, so the sky is a fathomless black and they can see traces of the Milky Way. He remembers seeing it as a kid sometimes when he’d be with his Nonno, and he had thought it was kind of cool until his Nonno explained what it was that he was actually seeing. And then Tommy had been in awe, staring at a visible part of the galaxy that he was just a tiny speck in.

He’s in awe now. So many things had to happen across that galaxy for him to end up right here. So many things had to go right for them to end up here together.

Tommy feels tears fill his eyes, and he lets out a shaking breath. Immediately, there’s an arm around him, and Evan is pulling him close, testing the integrity of the armrests of their chairs.

“Hey,” Evan says softly. “What’s up?”

“It’s so stupid,” Tommy says, laughing wetly and wiping his eyes. “There’s a whole universe out there with infinite possibilities. And I could’ve ended up anywhere, but I get to be right here with you, and it feels—I don’t know. Like I said: it's stupid.”

Evan kisses his hair and wraps his other arm around him, cocooning him in his arms and the soft fleece of the blanket. “It’s not stupid,” he whispers. “It’s not stupid at all.”

Tommy buries his face in his husband’s shoulder. His husband. He’s forty-two today, and he gets to spend it with his husband. “I’m really glad I married you.”

“I’m glad you married me, too.”

He laughs and rubs his cheek on the fleece covering Evan’s shoulder, feeling it catch on his stubble. “I’d do it again. I probably will, actually. We can do it again as many times as we want. There’s no rule against it.”

“There’s not,” Evan agrees as they settle back into their seats, their heads tucked together. “And in the infinite possible universes, I know I’d do it there, too. Every time.”

“Every time?” Tommy challenges, hitching the blanket up until all that’s outside of it is their heads.

“Mhm,” Evan hums. “That’s how soulmates work.”

Tommy huffs out a laugh and twists his head to plant a kiss on his cheek. “It is?”

“You’d hope so, right?” he says, tilting his head toward his shoulder again and looking up at Tommy. “That in every universe with a you, there’s a me with them.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees, kissing his forehead. He lets his lips rest there for a long time, bringing his hand up from under the blanket to play with Evan’s curls. “Can I ask you something I’ve been afraid to ask since we got here?”

“Hm?”

“How early are we getting up to hike?”

Evan laughs. “Oh, early. We’ll probably need to go to bed in the next half hour.”

Tommy stands up, taking the blanket with him, and Evan squawks, grabbing for it.

“Then that means,” Tommy says, grabbing a bottle of water to douse the fire with, “that we need to go to bed now.”

“But ba—” Evan starts to whine, and then Tommy pops the button on his jeans. “Oh.”

He jumps to his feet, locks the truck, and makes a beeline for the tent. Tommy makes sure the embers are dead before he can dive into the tent after him—he will not set a national park on fire just so he can fuck his husband.

Even if it is his birthday.

[mammoth-clangen]

I love seeing the colour patterns on your clan gen homotherium and smilodon.

They remind me of cat colours. Colour mutations in animals (cats and prehistoric animals on general too) are my special interest

I remember that my favourite smilodon design was the one from Primeval. I still have the box sets and they were my favourite as a kid (and now lol).

Sad that Smilodon was most likely tawny like lions. It apparently lived in open areas so most likely wouldn't have spots or stripes. But that doesn't mean we can't draw them like it. Also I wonder what mutations they did have in real life (like white lions, white tigers, "strawberry" erythristic leopards, albino leopard, and melanistic leopards and jaguars do appear in the wild)

I actually discovered your comic when I followed the homotherium tag after seeing the frozen cub. I once saw lyuba the mammoth at the natural history museum, London, at a limited exhibition. I'm completely obsessed with the permafrost mummies. I hope I get to see more in person one day.

Here's my kitty, Zoe.

Oh my goosh what a cute cat ;A;

here's my creature, Fat Tilly! She's an 11yr old Selkirk rex who likes loafing and lying in the sun c:

And thank you! I adore colour mutations in extant animals and I agree that it's really fun to contemplate them in extinct ones c:

I'm gonna preempt this getting long and put a cut here jhrjhrf

I'm sure you will already have seen this, but for anyone interested in paleoart depictions of colour mutations, I'd really recommend this great article all about it

White Cat, Gold Plains was actually all about the premise of a Homotherium with piebaldism. Pied is one of my favourite pigment mutations because it's so much deeper than integument patterns; it's actually a neural tube defect that leads to distinct behavioural changes. WC,GP was about Kiina, the pied cat, and her struggles with always being view as 'childish' by her peers and struggling to fit in. There was also more human impact in this story, as Kiina gets picked up as a cub by a group of early humans. It was sort of my own experience/musings on neurodivergency played alongside some thoughts on early domestication attempts humans must have had (though we all know that, sadly, Homotherium did not end up domesticated). Pied animals are typically more trusting, which is why you see so many pied domestic animals! (Fat Tilly and Zoe both are, for example lolol)

Also the Primeval Smilodon has one of the most gorgeous and distinct designs of any media sabercat tbh, I really loved the episode as a whole even though it had a sort of sad-but-expected ending.

I don't remember where I read it, but there was someone discussing Smilodon patterns and the conclusion was basically "we can't be sure". While lions are solid as adults, they're spotted as cubs and likely had spotted ancestors seeing Pantherines seem to have strongly contrasting patterns as the default. Machairodontids aren't even the same lineage as Pantherines, so we really can't know what patterns they had except for Homotherium latidens having dark brown cubs! They could just as easily grow into a different adult coat, like hyena do. (side note, I was sorta hoping that absolutely amazing Homotherium mummy news might drag some people to my comic so I'm glad it did lolol)

Smilodon was also likely very ambush dependent, being too bulky for pursuits even as long as modern lions. Disruptive colouration could have helped with this even in fairly open habitats. This is actually why I gave the Ice Fangs very faint stripes; high contrast tiger striping didn't make much sense, but breaking up the outline a little couldn't be a bad thing even in a steppe environment. I also didn't want them completely solid because there are actual lions to differentiate cx

[warsofasoiaf]

Came across this dribble on Reddit and was curious what your thoughts would be:

“We see House Stark through the eyes and actions of Ned Stark. As a result, the vast majority of fans end up believing Ned Stark to be representative of the Stark family. But the thing is … Ned Stark is a major aberration from the traditional Stark values. Hence the fan misunderstanding of what House Stark is all about.

The slogan of House Stark is Winter is Coming. And that has been the central guiding philosophy of House Stark and its leaders.

During Winter, the North is all but uninhabitable. If Winter lasts for a year, or years, it means mass starvation and a plummeting of the North’s population. It is the duty of House Stark to minimize the impact of Winter and also to pull the North back to a position of strength after a harsh and terrible winter. It is also imperative for House Stark to recognize that no matter how good things might seem, Winter is Coming. It’s always coming.

For this reason, a “Good Stark” carries the following virtues:

(a) Harsh (some might say … stark) personality

(b) Indifference to Southern politics and affairs

Ned Stark for example lacked the “hardness” of traditional Starks, and was willing to take large risks just so to avoid the murder of children, including Jon Snow, Daenerys, Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. Ned Stark also traveled South to serve as Robert’s Hand, married a Tully from the Riverlands, and marched South during Robert’s Rebellion. The same applies to Robb who also marched south after his father’s imprisonment. Robb further deviated from Stark values by marching south during Autumn, the time of year when it was most imperative for Starks to stay in the North, bringing in the harvest, stockpiling food, and preparing for Winter.

Better Stark examples would be e.g. Alaric Stark who had a reputation for being hard and (again) stark. Or Cregan Stark who refused to march during Autumn and only marched south during Winter, after all the harvests were collected, with men who were more than happy to die in battle because that way they would not have to burden their relatives back home and so more of the women and children could survive the harsh winter months (or years).”

First, factual problems. Cregan Stark did not march with "men who were more than happy to die in battle because that way they would not have to burden their relatives back home." The Winter Wolves under Roddy the Ruin were explicitly mentioned as greybeards who would have "gone hunting" during the harsh winter, not Cregan

The idea that the Starks exhibit "indifference to Southern politics and affairs" is laughable. Torrhen Stark put down the Sunderland revolt at Aegon's royal request. Ellard Stark supports Laenor in the Great Council of 101. Cregan Stark became the Hand of the King and purged the royal court and has the Pact of Ice and Fire. Rickon Stark fought so notably in the Conquest of Dorne that Daeron wrote about him. Rickard Stark fought in the War of the Ninepenny Kings and was one of the principle architects of the Southron Ambitions conspiracy. The Kings of Winter fought with the Falcon Kings over the Sisters in the War Across teh Water, playing Reversi with the Arryns for generations. Hell, King Theon Stark sailed across the Narrow Sea to put the fear of the Old Gods in the Andals for daring to try to land on his shores.

Similarly, a "harsh" personality is hardly indicative of all Starks, even restricting it only to the Lords of Winterfell (since discussions of "all Starks" would inevitably run afoul of Sansa Stark, whose most prominent character trait is romantic compassion). Cregan Stark in the Hour of Wolf fights for the sacred body of king Aegon II even though he fought against him in a civil war. To Cregan, the principle was as such that "regicide, even through inaction, must be punished." That's not harsh, that's abiding a set of clearly-defined principles. Alaric spoke fairly harshly with King Jaehaerys in the tomb under Winterfell, but the text displays a fierce love with his brother, so much so that he risked breaking decorum and *almost defending the (he still calls them the "worst", but it's striking that he says the revolt happened due to lack of food as opposed to a condemnation for lack of moral fibre) Night's Watch mutineers just to tell Jaehaerys that it was *his* action that cost the life of his brother and that he could stuff his apologies. Brandon Stark, raised to be the Lord of Winterfell, so fiercely loved and defended his sister that he went down to King's Landing personally to call Rhaegar out.

While GRRM sometimes fumbles the ball and makes some houses extremely one-note to the distinct disadvantage of the story (every Bracken being an asshole makes the Blackwood-Bracken feud weaker), we cannot say that about the Starks. There is some truth in this passage - House Stark rules over lands that are brutalized by the irregular Westerosi seasons and so needs to prepare for winter, hence their house words, but it takes this fact along with some faulty assumptions to jump to a conclusion that's very off the mark.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[ausetkmt]

Pharmacist Lunsford Richardson made Vicks a household name throughout the nation, but his popular product did not do the same for him.

Even in his native North Carolina, where his most celebrated of chemical concoctions has been right under our stuffy noses and on our congested chests for generations, the mention of Richardson’s name elicits blank stares from all but those who study and cherish history.

Richardson’s salve, Vicks VapoRub, helped the world breathe easier during the devastating influenza pandemic of 1918 and during the countless colds and flus of our childhoods, yet most of us couldn’t pick Lunsford Richardson out of a one-man police lineup, much less a who’s who of medical pioneers.

Why didn’t Richardson — by all accounts a creative inventor and smart businessman — ever become as famous as those vapors packed into the familiar squat blue jar?

Because his name wouldn’t fit on the jar.

That’s one version of the story. According to company and family lore, Richardson initially dubbed his promising new product Richardson’s Croup and Pneumonia Cure Salve. Realizing that this name didn’t exactly roll off the tongue nor fit when printed on a small medicine jar, Richardson changed the name to honor his brother-in-law, Dr. Joshua Vick. Another account suggests the inventive druggist plucked the name from a seed catalog he’d been perusing that listed the Vick Seed Co.

The truth may never be known. What is known, though, is that Lunsford Richardson created a medicinal marvel for the ages, the likes of which may never be equaled.

Croupy beginnings

A Johnston County native born in 1854, Richardson loved chemistry and hoped to study it at Davidson College. The college’s chemistry program at the time wasn’t as strong as he’d hoped it would be, so he studied Latin instead, graduating with honors in three years. He returned to Johnston County and taught school, but it wasn’t long before the young man’s love of chemistry got the best of him. In 1880, he moved to Selma to work with his physician brother-in-law, Dr. Vick. It was not uncommon in those days for doctors to dispense drugs themselves, but Vick was so busy seeing patients that he teamed up with Richardson, allowing him to handle the pharmacy duties for him. Richardson relied on his knowledge of Latin to help him learn the chemical compounds required to become a pharmacist, and that’s when he began to experiment with recipes for the product that would become Vicks VapoRub.

It wasn’t until Richardson moved to his wife’s hometown of Greensboro in 1890 that his magical salve and other products he created began to take off.

“He was a man of great intellect and talent,” says Linda Evans, community historian for the Greensboro Historical Museum, which has an exhibit devoted to Richardson and Vicks.

“Druggists at the time fashioned their own remedies a lot, and he created a number of remedies, in addition to his magic salve, that he sold under the name of Vick’s Family Remedies. He was obviously a man of such creativity.”

In Greensboro, working out of a downtown drugstore he purchased (where he once employed a teenaged William Sydney Porter, the future short story writer O. Henry), Richardson patented some 21 medicines. The wide variety of pills, liquids, ointments, and assorted other medicinal concoctions included the likes of Vick’s Chill Tonic, Vick’s Turtle Oil Liniment, Vick’s Little Liver Pills and Little Laxative Pills, Vick’s Tar Heel Sarsaparilla, Vick’s Yellow Pine Tar Cough Syrup, and Vick’s Grippe Knockers (aimed at knocking out la grippe, an old-timey phrase for the flu).

These products sold with varying degrees of success, but the best seller in the lineup of Richardson’s remedies was Vick’s Magic Croup Salve, which he introduced in 1894. And by all accounts, necessity was the key to its success.

“He had what they referred to as a croupy baby — a baby with a lot of coughing and congestion,” explains Richardson’s great-grandson, Britt Preyer of Greensboro. “So as a pharmacist, he began experimenting with menthols from Japan and some other ingredients, and he came up with this salve that really worked. That’s how it all started.”

Another version of the story suggests that all three of the Richardson children caught bad colds at the same time, and Richardson, dissatisfied with the traditional treatment of the day, which included poultices and a vapor lamp, spent hours at his pharmacy developing his own treatment.

Richardson’s salve — a strong-smelling ointment combining menthol, camphor, oil of eucalyptus, and several other oils, blended in a base of petroleum jelly — was a chest-soothing, cough-suppressing, head-clearing sensation. When the salve was rubbed on the patient’s chest, his or her body heat vaporized the menthol, releasing a wave of soothing, medicated vapors that the patient breathed directly into the lungs.

Vicks in the mailbox

In 1911, Richardson’s son Smith, by now a successful salesman for his father’s company, recommended discontinuing all of the company’s products except for Vick’s Magic Croup Salve. He believed the salve could sell even better if the company stopped investing time and money in the other, less successful remedies. He also suggested renaming the salve Vicks VapoRub, according to the company’s history timeline, to “help dramatize the product’s performance.” Richardson agreed, and a century later, the name’s still the same.

Meanwhile, Richardson intensified his marketing efforts by providing free goods to druggists who placed large orders and publishing coupons for free samples in newspapers. He also advertised on billboards and sent promotional mailings to post office boxes, addressed to Boxholder rather than the individual’s name, thus earning him the distinction of being the father of junk mail.

In 1925, Vicks even published a children’s book to help promote the product. The book told the story of two elves, Blix and Blee, who rescued a frazzled mother whose sick child refused to take nasty-tasting medicines. Their solution, of course, was the salve known as Vicks VapoRub.

Expanding and experimenting

As successful as the marketing campaign was, nothing sold Vicks VapoRub like the deadly Spanish flu outbreak that ravaged the nation in 1918 and 1919, killing hundreds of thousands of Americans. Loyal Vicks customers and new customers stocked up on the medicine to stave off or fight the disease.

According to the company’s history timeline, VapoRub sales skyrocketed from $900,000 to $2.9 million in a single year because of the pandemic. The Vicks plant in Greensboro operated around the clock, and salesmen were pulled off the road to help at the manufacturing facility in an effort to keep up with demand.

As the flu spread across the nation, Richardson grew ill with pneumonia in 1919 and died. Smith took over the company. Vicks continued to grow, buying other companies until Procter & Gamble bought it in the 1980s. Through the years, Vicks continued adding new products to its arsenal of cold remedies: cough drops, nose drops, inhalers, cough syrup, nasal spray, Formula 44, NyQuil. And whatever success those products attained, they got there standing on the broad shoulders of Richardson.

Richardson will never be a household name, but his salve has held that status for more than a century — and may do so for the next hundred years. And for Richardson, were he still around, that ought to be enough to clear his head.

A cure-all salve

Vicks users have claimed the salve can cure and heal many maladies. Even though Vicks doesn’t say the salve works for these problems, people still believe.

Toenail fungus: Rub the salve on your toenails, cover with socks, and sleep your fungus problems away. Cough: For a similar fix to a nagging cough, some believe rubbing Vicks on the soles of your feet can fix the problem. Dandruff: Rub Vicks directly on the scalp, and your flakes may just disappear. Chapped lips: Petroleum jelly is one of the ingredients in Vicks, and some say the ointment can help heal cracked lips. Mosquito bites: If you smooth Vicks on the red bumps on your legs and arms, it can supposedly take the itch right out. Warts: Dab Vicks on the wart, cover with duct tape, and it may fall off in a few days.

Greensboro Historical Museum 130 Summit Avenue Greensboro, N.C. 27401 (336) 373-2043 greensborohistory.org

See historical Vicks VapoRub bottles and learn about Lunsford Richardson.

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

june 3, 2022 5:15 p.m. casbah gallery

[soobin] and fifteen minutes later, your mom is back.

[henry] oh, she brought ethan and his mom. that explains the delay, they were probably auntie gossiping in the parking garage that whole time.

[grant] isn’t that–

[henry] the guy who told you he thought you were dead last time we ate at their family restaurant?

[grant] i was going to say your friend that started a fire in your dorm by burning his microwave mac and cheese, but yeah, that also describes him.

[cerise] he thought you were dead?

[grant] long story on all fronts.

. . .

[insook] grant! my adopted son! i'm so glad you’re here tonight!

[grant] of course i am! if i missed the exhibition opening, i would never forgive myself. it’s an honor to be here for you guys.

[insook] and you must be cerise, the art curator sister.

[cerise] that would be me! hello, mrs., um–

[insook] no, no, no formalities. you're practically family already. insook is fine. or mama ong. that’s what grant calls me.

[cerise] still, hello! it’s very nice to meet you finally.

[grant] so, what do you think, mama ong?

[insook] i think sanghoon would be pleased with this.

[grant] obviously, i'm not an artsy person, so i don’t know how to comment on the exhibition in an intelligent way, but it’s beautiful in here. he was very skilled, and he should have those skills celebrated and immortalized.

[cerise] your husband was talented, and i see he was fond of impressionism.

[insook] he was! he dabbled in lots of styles, but impressionism was always his favorite. he was the practical sort, and the mundane subject matter spoke to him to begin with. then he lived in france for a while when we were still dating, and he saw the best of the best of the movement there. i would have fallen in love with it, too, if i saw a monet in its original environment.

[cerise] also, from what i understand from grant, most of his career took place here, so this must feel like a fitting place for these paintings to stay.

[insook] it does. he made a lot of works across many different places, but he said he had the best experiences and inspiration here. he felt like the people and landscapes here are especially genuine. we lived for the last few decades on the upper peninsula, and…

[henry] you get to know people and places very well because it’s so quiet. quiet and also kind of empty in some spots. it’s a paradise for those who like the kind of art he liked.

[insook] you’ve probably heard from my son by now, but he hated private collecting.

[cerise] i did hear that.

[insook] artistically and personally, he learned a lot from living here, and we as a family had good lives here. now that can be returned to the community. he’d be happy if even one person appreciates this region through his eyes. i think when you’re born in any given place, you pay more attention to its flaws. you think of the negatives–the bad experiences you’ve had, the changes a town has gone through, whatever it is you dislike–but then you see that place through the eyes of someone who traveled thousands of miles to come here and loved it enough to portray its positives in a painting. it changes your perspective for the better.

[grant] from my perspective, i agree. i was looking at that set of paintings of my hometown on the corner wall a few minutes ago, and my first reaction was that you couldn’t have a more perfect painting of the scenery. and that’s me, the person who hates where i grew up so much that i avoid going anywhere up north other than my family’s houses, saying that. it was actually kind of easy to put the hatred aside for those paintings.

[henry] talk about mission accomplished.

[grant] will you miss living around here?

[insook] me? i will, just like i've missed my family and friends in seoul. i know good people here–your family, for one–and like i said, we lived a great life here. sanghoon and i were happy. henry was happy growing up here. it's just time to do something else in my life now that i'm retired and unburdened, you could say. but you ask that like i'm not coming back, though. i'll be back to visit!

[soobin] if she can’t take her adopted son with her, she’ll have to come visit you.

[insook] we could take you! no, you should work on going back to being a pilot, although…

[grant] if that doesn’t work out, you can come back and get me? sure, i'm open to anything.

[insook] we marry you off to a friend’s kid, you get an easy visa. jiyoung’s niece is single. she's quite shy, so i've never met her, but i hear she's a sweet girl. no, i'm kidding. you should pick your partner yourself.

[grant] i don’t know, i seem to have terrible taste. can i really be trusted to pick?

[henry] the karaoke girl seemed nice.

[grant] she did, but i talked to her once, so that doesn’t count.

[cerise] do you mind if i ask when you're moving?

[insook] when? oh, two weeks from now.

[cerise] wow! shit, are you guys leaving soon, too? i did hear that right that you're going with her?

[henry] you did hear that right, but no, we’re here until, i don’t know, late summer or early fall. we don’t have an exact date yet. well, okay, not anymore. we did.

[soobin] we were planning to move around the same time because, like, if we’re really doing this and your mom is leaving at the end of the spring, let’s just go. we’ll sell the house when she leaves, and we’ll follow her.

[soobin] and then i found out i was pregnant last month, and i panicked. i feel like death lately, so i'd prefer not to be stuck on a plane over the pacific or with the burden of selling a house and moving our furniture. i think i'll wait until i feel less like death and am less scared of something going wrong.

[henry] we’ll figure it out. we are at least giving ourselves an extra month or two to make decisions, which will be fine.

[cerise] okay, in that case, delaying things is rational, i think, but congratulations! that’s exciting.

[soobin] it is! we are surprised but very excited.

[grant] are you feeling okay, by the way?

[soobin] i mean, better than the last few times you've seen me, but if tonight were not extremely important, i would be in bed right now with 64oz of ginger ale.

[soobin] but i'm sticking it out. i'm good.

[pokemonshelterstories]

Hello! I’m a researcher from Galar and always enjoyed your blog and shelter when I stayed in Paldea for the first half of my Masters.

What’s your experience with the Paldean Rookidee line? I always wanted to see if there’s differences between Galarian and Paldean Rookidee and its evolution. Have there been any in your shelter?

- @galarian-ecologist

funny you ask that- i was actually an undergrad research assistant on a study of "dialects" of rookidee vocalization, and a paper i wrote about corviknight behavior in the great crater of paldea versus corviknight outside of the crater was just published in the paldean pokemon behavioral study society's summer volume journal.

the most notable difference is in the ratio of rookidee and corvisquire to corviknight. in galar, corviknight are fairly widespread and can be found throughout the region. but in paldea, outside of the great crater (and the occasional tera den), there's really only one small territory that you'll ever see wild corviknight. corvisquire in paldea exhibit noticeably delayed evolution in the wild as a result of predation from tinkaton; corvisquire that did not evolve survived longer to pass on their genes than those that evolved into corviknight.

i don't want to republish my whole paper here, but one other really neat behavioral difference that i noticed between corviknight in and out of the crater is that the small number of corviknight in north province area two exhibited a lower flight pattern than the corviknight within the crater. they had adapted to flying normal than lower to avoid becoming easy targets for tinkaton!

[tribbetherium]

The subcontinent of North Westerna, in the Temperocene, had become a lifeboat for the hammoths: a relic clade once dominant in the Glaciocene, now relegated to this small landmass, here they flourished and came once again to approach the diversity their kin once did, sporting species both great and small. For a time, North Westerna remained virtually free of large predators, and here the hammoths flourished, but then in the Temperocene, an intruder would arrive that would change the dynamics of this isolated land: the pterowrists.

Pterowrists are among the most bizarre and unusual of the pterodents, as they display easily one of the most drastic examples of of sexual dimorphism on HP-02017: females of these species are many orders of size larger than males, and in most species have become too heavy to fly: thus, splitting the two into completely different ecological niches. This unusual distinction was merely an exaggeration of a trend also present in many other pterodents, of females growing larger due to needing to bear young and defend their nests, while males grew smaller to compete less with their mates. This duality was furthered when they arrived onto an environment with no large land predators and little competition except small burrowing fearrets, and thus, the larger female pterowrists eventually came to occupy the niche of dominant land predator, while the males remained more or less occupying the niches of a more typical pterodent: an advantageous distinction that allowed a single species to essentially divide resources between two groups and thus reduce competition with itself.

The earliest of these were likely forms akin to the grassland bandrunner (Annulocaudopteryx equimensura), a very basal species where the size difference between the male and female is not as pronounced as other, more specialized forms. Yet, in the bandrunner, a behavioral and anatomical dichotomy can already be seen that marks it as part of the pterowrist lineage. While males have long, slender wings, fit for soaring, females have proportionately shorter and more rounder wings, and instead hunt on the ground: while still perfectly capable of flight, they prefer to hunt on foot and are swift runners, chasing down small bite-sized prey like furbils and duskmice, while the males in contrast have a preference for insects, wingles and small aquatic prey they can snatch in flight, as well as any scavenged carrion they can locate.

As female pterowrists came to eventually fill land predator niches, they over time grew bulkier and heavier and denser than their male counterparts to better tackle larger prey: ultimately leading to them abandoning flight entirely to specialize on becoming terrestrial macro-predators. Yellow brevtails (Xanthopteromys brevicauda) are a relatively small species like the bandrunner, but one that already exhibits the marked reduction of the females' forelimbs, and conversely the increase in size and strength of their hindlimbs, to better facilitate sustained chases on foot. The difference is not too marked while they are young pups, but, as they grow, the males, upon approaching sexual maturity, develop a growth spurt in their forearm bones and chest muscles while remaining fairly lightly built, while the females hit a more generalized growth spurt with their forelimbs remaining small, stunted, and proportionally similar to a young pup, but at the same time growing denser bones and stronger muscles especially in their jaws, necks and legs. Female brevtails are pursuit hunters that can tackle prey up to the size of small hamtelopes, seizing them in their jaws and repeatedly striking captured prey against the ground to dispatch them. Males, on the other hand, are dedicated scavengers and foragers, with a particular fondness of dropping bones as well as small, hard-shelled prey such as terrestrial shrabs from great heights to crack them open and access their prize.

As the pterowrist females grew larger and more capable of tackling bigger prey, they soon turned their sights on the subcontinent's most abundant local herbivores: the hammoths, of which many smaller species were abundant at the time, including beaver-sized burrowers or goat-sized grazers. Thus, some began specializing to hunt them and the native ungulopes as well, becoming even larger and more built for jumping onto and grappling bulkier game. The black rapteryx (Phorusracomys dimorphis) is the most notable of these species, being a four-to-five foot tall ambush hunter typically reaching weights of up to 150 pounds, heavy enough to tackle medium-sized herbivore prey, pinning them down and delivering deep lacerations with their large forward-turned inner dewclaw, striking and retreating repeatedly until its quarry eventually succumbs to exhaustion and blood loss. Male rapteryxes, on the other hand, prefer much smaller prey such as small hamtelopes, rattiles or ratbats, especially ones they can seize in their talons and carry off to a roost high up in trees, rocks or cliffs where they are less likely to be bothered by thieves: including opportunistic female rapteryxes who will not hesitate to use their greater size to bully a smaller male and steal his kills if she happens upon him on the ground, thus prompting them to use their advantage of flight to safekeep their food and spare themselves from harassment.

The arms race between hammoths and pterowrist females thus began, fueling the growth of both into increasingly larger forms better suited to attack bigger prey or defend itself. From the hammoths eventually arose the giant maustodons, rivalling the hammoths of the Glaciocene in size and strength, and in response, the peculiar saga of the pterowrist finally culminates with the pterowrex (Pterovenatrix regina): North Westerna's apex predator during the Temperocene era. Growing up to six-to-seven feet in height and reaching weights of up to 700 pounds, these powerful hunters sport hooked talons and muscular limbs to maintain a secure grip on prey and broad crunching jaws to deliver devastating bites. They have easily one of the largest disparities between sexes size-wise, as male pterowrexes weigh a comparatively measly weight of 30 pounds on average, with a wingspan of roughly three meters. Adolescent females are lean and lightly built, resembling much like the more basal rapteryxes during their youth, but continue growing for far longer, developing disproportionately large heads and muscular necks as they age and finally reaching full size in about ten years, whereas males, on the other hand, reach their final adult size in about half the time.

This extreme difference in size and shape between the sexes has significantly impacted their lifestyles, both in their ecological niches as well as their social interactions with other members of their species. Female pterowrexes are capable of tackling the largest of the hammoths, as well as opportunistically chasing away smaller pterowrists from their meals if the chance presents itself. Males, on the other hand, are ground hunters that stalk in grassy plains, stirring up small furbils and duskmice from their burrows and snatching them up as they flee. This, ironically, has led to them frequently associating with the very same hammoths that the females hunt, pouncing on the small scurrying creatures roused by their stomping feet. The hammoths, unaware and indifferent of the relationship between the small flying males and the large predatory females, tolerate the presence of the males and view them as no threat, even allowing them to pluck insects from their coats.

Male and female pterowrexes, given their massive differences in scale and lifestyle, generally live their lives apart, and only come together when mating: an otherwise difficult affair mitigated by the male's proportionately-lengthly reproductive equipment that enable him to inseminate a female many magnitudes of size larger. This is where his responsibility ends, as he contributes little else to his offspring but his genes and departs almost immediately to try and court another female, with the resulting child-rearing falling entirely in the responsibility of the females, with a litter of up to a dozen small but relatively precocious young weaning at three weeks of age, males fledging and flying off at about a year old, and females remaining with their mothers for as long as four to five years until they reach the adolescent to subadult stage where they eventually disperse from their mother's territory over time. Outside of breeding seasons, however, the two sexes of the pterowrex keep to themselves: seeking social interactions with same-sex members of their species, with males gathering in small all-male flocks that roost together, preen each other's coats and even cooperate when flushing small prey out of hiding, while females often pair-bond with another female, with the two cooperating during hunting, sharing food and territory, and even rearing their young together once the males depart after their brief and momentary encounter with the females.

-------

[trapastrology]

Venus-North Node Synastry

~Using Jamie and Landon from "A Walk To Remember"~

Song that corresponds- Teach Me by Musiq Soulchild

Venus-North Node synastry is without a doubt one of my most favorite synastry placements. Especially when it’s sextile! Jamie and Landon show how this synastry plays out very well. Jamie is Venus while Landon is North Node. As we can see they come from two different worlds, have 2 different mindsets, morals etc. Jamie is still in his South node when he meets Jamie so he exhibits those traits. In the beginning of this synastry the venus person is unknowingly helping the north node person get closer to where they need to be simply by saying/doing things that they normally do. At first, the NN person is pulling back a lot. Like him not wanting to be seen with her, calling her interests stupid, and hanging with the popular crowd etc. But that soon changes the more her venus influences his NN. Venus unconsciously inspires the NN person to want to be a better them and often pick up a lot of hobbies/interests that Venus is interested in. Venus exposes them to new things that they never knew of that’s a part of Venus's daily life. North Node becomes more artistic and peaceful, less stubborn, improving oneself and realizing that they have someone they can be vulnerable with. Venus has the natural ability to put NN at ease, they’re like the breath of fresh air that nn so desperately needed. They’re like the missing component to life that nn didn’t even know they were missing. As a result of Venus’s presence, NN person now has more self-confidence and believes in themselves and what they can do. A creative bug they’ve never had suddenly won’t stop biting them. Usually picking up the exact same or similar hobby that venus has and loves. Their life that once had no direction becomes very clear now and Venus is usually in the center of it. There’s mutual support, great communication, shared values (that were once very different), personal growth and great conflict resolution. Here the North Node person and The Venus person evolve together! The Node Node is usually more drastic and apparent to others. However, Venus’s perspective on love and relationships changes a lot here and they feel very fulfilled by the person the NN has changed into. This is a love that stands the test of time more often than not. I’d say their Venus & NN was in earth signs being that they both brought each other a sense of comfy stability and helped each other complete their life's goals. 

Quotes from the Movie that are true to this synastry… 

~~~~~~~

“Landon, look, I thought i saw something in you, something good, but i was very wrong” -Jamie This is usually how the Venus person feels when the NN person isn’t accepting but instead afraid of the change they feel venus invoking. Causing them to act out in many ways then hurting the venus person. 

“You don’t know what you want” -Jamie In the beginning the NN person actually is clueless as to what they want in life and the direction they're going to take. 

“She makes me want to be different, better” -Landon Venus, without trying, inspires the NN person in many ways to want to be better and improve themselves. They may also look up to the Venus person in some way or want to know that they are proud of them and who they’ve become. 

“Maybe you inspire me” -Landon 

“She’s the best person I’ve ever known” - Landon More often than not and depending on other aspects, the north node person feels this way. 

“Jamie saved my life. She taught me everything. About life, hope and the long journey ahead.”- Landon

“I hadn't done any of the things that I normally did with girls, yet somehow I'd fallen in love.”-Landon This is very common in this synastry. Even down to venus not being NN’s type. Yet somehow the north node feels things for this person they’ve never felt with anyone before. 

“Listen, I’m sorry I haven’t treated Jamie the way I should’ve. She deserves more than that. I’m just asking you for the same thing that you teach us every day in church. And that’s faith.” -Landon The response I wrote for the first quote applies here. As well as NN realizing their mistakes and wrong doings from embodying their SN and doing the best they can to do right by the Venus person. 

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[arcane-vagabond]

Stranger Like Me: Prologue

Stranger Like Me: Prologue

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: From a young age, the animal kingdom had fascinated you, and maybe that's why you chose to pursue that passion. You quickly became a force within the field, becoming the leading expert on ape social structures, which is how you found yourself on an expedition into the African jungles searching for a troop of gorillas. What you weren't expecting, however, was to run into the local wild man on one of your excursions... (Tarzan!AU)

Content Warnings: Talk of loneliness, Inaccurate scientific descriptions and terminology, Flirty Jake, Allusions to loss of parents, Talk of reintigrating someone into society...I think that's it.

Word Count: 1,263

A/N: Here it is! I hope y'all don't mind me making you wait too long! This blog is 18+ ONLY! As always, reblogs and comments are welcomed and encouraged!! Find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where all of my stories and drabbles are posted!

Series Masterlist || Moodboard 1 || Moodboard 2 || Moodboard 3

You had a running theory that there were two types of people in this world: plant people and animal people. You? You were most definitely an animal person. Growing up, you visited the zoo frequently, the employees practically knowing you by name. You did your best to memorize as many facts as you could about the different animals in each exhibit, knowing from an early age that you wanted to work with animals for the rest of your life.

You’d spend hours at the primate exhibits, watching the way the different apes and monkeys interact with each other, and you wished you could fast forward to the moment where you got to study it day in and day out.

So, you worked hard, graduating high school with honors before moving on to study zoology in undergrad, and then skipping straight to your doctorate program after that. It had been a long, grueling road that left little time for much else, but it was your passion, and once you had been greeted with the title of “doctor,” you knew it had all been worth it.

That didn’t stop your bouts of loneliness though. While your friends all went out to party, you were usually found with your nose buried in a book. And it wasn’t like you wanted to go out partying, but it still hurt when your friends stopped asking.

And then there was Jake Seresin, your handsome best friend of several years who knew he looked good and never failed to own it. The two of you had met in the early days of undergrad, having been partnered up in a biology lab, and you had hit it off immediately. Jake wasn’t interested in primates, his focus turned towards botany of all things, but he loved to tease you about your love of great apes.

“A cute girl like you studying monkeys?” He had chuckled with a shake of his head, mossy green eyes glimmering with mischief. “You must have had a wild fascination with Boots the monkey, huh?”

“First of all, peabrain,” you scowled at him, fighting back the smile that threatened to take over your face as his jaw dropped, “I study apes, not monkeys. Second of all, my fascination with Boots is none of your business.”

“Whatever you say, Boots.”

And the nickname had stuck. It followed you through undergrad and all the way through to your now budding career as one of the leading researchers in gorilla social structures. Which is also how you found yourself invited to the North Island Research Camp in the Republic of the Congo.

The camp wasn’t some grand research center, but it was well respected amongst the scientific community for gathering the most up-to-date research and hands-on experiences between researchers and local fauna. The camp was run by Dr. Pete Mitchell and Dr. Tom Kazansky, both legends within the field and rarely opening up their camp to other researchers. You had been thrilled to receive the invitation, and even more thrilled when you found out that Jake had also received an invitation to the camp to continue his research on tropical plants.

The two of you had made plans to fly out of San Diego at the same time, even choosing to stay at his place the night before your flight.

“The early bird gets the worm, Boots!” He chirped, loading up the trunk of the Uber with your luggage. How he was so cheerful at three in the morning was beyond you.

The flight to your destination was uneventful, choosing to catch up on some of your reading as well as sleep for the majority of the flight. The two of you were greeted by a bespectacled man once you departed the plane, his demeanor relaxed but his face shy as he helped you with your bags.

“I’m Bob,” he said, loading the back of his jeep with your belongings. “I’m helping out Pete and Tom with their research. The other researcher is already at the camp. He got here about a month ago.”

“Who is it?” You asked him, hopping into the front seat of the car as Jake clambered into the back.

“Javy Machado,” Bob answered, already making his way through the city and towards the jungle. “He’s doing research into termite colonies.”

“Javy’s gonna be there?” Jake asked, leaning forward with a grin. You rolled your eyes at him. Javy and Jake almost went as far back as you two did, having first met in a chemistry course their junior year of college. While you and Jake had gone to the same university for your doctorate programs, Javy had ventured elsewhere, making a name for himself within the world of entomology. The two together was almost insufferable.

“You two better behave,” you groused, settling into your seat with a glare in his direction.

“Boots,” he gasped, placing a hand over his heart in faux hurt, “I am absolutely shocked that you think we would be anything other than complete professionals.”

“Don’t give me that crap,” you snapped, turning to face Bob who glanced at you two wearily. “Those two are going to be a nightmare, I’m just warning you now.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” he chuckled.

The three of you settled into a comfortable conversation as Bob continued to drive towards the camp, the jungle becoming denser the longer he went. Soon, the sun was hidden behind the canopy, and you got the sense that you were truly in the wild.

“Are you sure about this, Mav,” Ice hummed, hands clasped firmly in front of him as he eyed his fellow researcher. Mav spared him a smile, running a hand through his hair as he sat on the bench opposite his companion.

“He’s been on his own for decades, Ice,” Mav grimaced, glancing into the trees. “He deserves to know companionship beyond just us.”

“He has Bob and Javy.”

“He deserves more than just four other people in his life,” he amended, rolling his eyes. “We’re lucky we found him when we did, otherwise I’m not sure he would have survived on his own. Besides, Nick and Carole wouldn’t have wanted this for him. They would have wanted him to see the world, to meet other people.”

Ice hummed at that. Of course, Maverick had a point. They couldn’t keep the boy isolated for forever. He was already butting heads more and more with the troop leader and spending more nights in the observation tower as a result. It also wasn’t like Ice wanted to keep him isolated for selfish reasons. No, quite the opposite in fact. The kid had spent most of his life right there in the jungle, never having contact with another human being until the two men had opened up the research camp once more ten years before.

And that’s what had Ice so apprehensive. The boy had little to no experience with humans, and what he did have was from the time spent with the two older men who weren’t exactly the greatest of company at the best of times. How would he react to a camp full of people his own age? Would it be too much for him?

“Bradley is smart, Ice,” Mav continued, knocking his knuckles against the table. “He’s already been asking questions about the people in the movies and photos he sees. He wants to know about the outside world. Let’s let him have that chance.”

Ice didn’t answer. Instead, he sighed, leaning back in his chair. This would be good for Bradley. It had to be.