#Muse North America

[sunburnacoustic]

Muse's first Canadian tour - Mod Club (now Axis Club), Toronto, April 2004 | microcuts.net archives (which is why they're tiny. Only the thumbnails remain)

[humunanunga]

Preaching to the choir to talk about climate change, I know, so I just wanna share some millennial perspective for folks who'd be too young or too urban to have witnessed these kinds of ecological changes. I'm 30 now, in 2023, and I'm from the southern post oak savannahs in Texas.

Growing up, spring was characterized by the lovebugs swarming to mate. Gas stations would be especially packed by them, attracted to the smell of their own smeared bodies being wiped off of everyone's windshields. My grandmother saw maybe one this year.

Growing up, summer was characterized by droves of cicadas, junebugs, grasshoppers and the black-and-yellow argiope, a web spider that grows big enough to eat them. This had been one of the quietest summers I can ever recall. I didn't hear the wee-oo-wee-oo of scissorgrinder cicadas at all this year. I saw grasshoppers but not a single argiope. I saw maybe one junebug.

Growing up, autumn got frost in the mornings. I would have to wait for the windshield to defrost to go to school. Texas was always warm in the summer, but it was still normal to get cooler-than-tropical weather during the cold months. The last time I can recall morning frost was at least ten years ago.

Growing up, winter still didn't usually give us more than one day of snow toward February, but we did get ice and sleet. It was normal to see my breath outside. The polar vortices were unusual, but warm winters are also unusual even in Texas. They're a very recent occurrence.

A lot of users on this platform were born after these changes already passed, or else grew up in the city. If climate change were reversed tomorrow, it would be a shock to the system how much more fuller the air would be with wings and songs during the warm months, and how much icier the cold months would be. I don't know how to express to anyone younger than me how much emptier, quieter, the trees and grasses are compared to however old I'd have been when they were born.

What's happened has already happened, but. I dunno. It's still important to remember what else is different or missing, especially in order to better envision what recovery will look like.

[theemporium]

[1.7k] they want to believe jack when he says he has a girlfriend. they really do. it's just kind of hard to do so when they never see her. or, in which everyone is worried jack has found himself in a parasocial relationship.

.

“Fuck.” 

Jack raised his head, finding his attention drawn to his captain sitting on the aisle across from him on the bus. He watched as the man began patting himself down before he let out a sigh, standing up to reach for his bag on the overhead shelf. Yet, whatever he was trying to find was a fruitless endeavour as he settled back in his seat with a frown on his face.

“You good?” 

“Hm,” Nico hummed, letting out another long breath as he leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, I just forgot my headphones.”

“Nico Hischier not being organised?” Jack teased, a smile growing on his face. “Someone alert the authorities.”

Nico huffed out a laugh. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” 

“Just messin’ with you, cap,” Jack mused, deciding to be the better person and not point out the fact he could see Nico’s dimple even if the boy tried to act like he wasn’t laughing. “Here, I’ll share my music with you. Because I’m nice like that.”

The older boy raised his brows. “Your music for the full five hour drive?”

Jack raised his brows in return. “Do you have anything else better to do?”

“Fair enough,” Nico murmured before he reached over, taking the airpod and slipping it into his ear. “But I get to add some songs too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack waved him off before handing over his phone. “Maybe try more English rap songs so I can understand them too, yeah?” 

“Sure, because I’m nice like that,” Nico said with a grin before he turned to shift his attention to Jack’s phone. He clicked on the queue, his brows furrowing slightly when he saw the songs lined up. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Nico murmured. “I just thought you were a country music kind of guy. Never thought you’d be into the rock scene.”

Jack’s cheeks burned as he let out a slightly strained laugh. “I was, uh, broadening my horizons.”

Nico turned to look at him. “So you chose one band? You know, I know a couple of bands if you want them—”

“I’m fine with that band,” Jack said, flashing his captain a smile. 

“You’ve liked every one of their songs.”

“Mhm.”

“So, you know you like the genre, at least. Maybe you should try—”

“I’m good.”

“Jack—”

“Start queuing songs before I take my phone back, Hisch.”

Nico stared at him for a few moments, noting the way he fidgeted in his seat with his cheeks flushed far brighter than they should be with the bus AC blasting. But, Nico decided he would be nice this time around and not bring it up.

Not yet, at least.

Plus the band Jack had chosen was pretty good, if he did say so himself.

...

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yourusername ready to rock north america❤️🖤

view all 13,738 comments

user i am going to the nashville show!!!

user she is THE moment

user omg i can't believe the tour has already started

user BKEWBFJBWEKFBKWEJBF

jackhughes congrats on the tour!! ur gonna kill it!!❤️‍🔥

user JACK HUGHES????

user who the fuck is jack hughes?

...

“What are you giggling at?”

“I’m not giggling at anything.” 

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You literally giggled as you said that.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Unfortunately for Luke, this had been a recurring conversation over the last few weeks because, despite what he said, Jack spent the better part of his free time giggling at his phone. It was sickening and annoying and Luke was so done with trying to scroll through TikTok with his brother snickering like some teenage girl in the background. 

It was starting to grate on his last nerve.

“You’re so full of shit,” Luke grumbled as he shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, narrowing his eyes on his big brother from over the kitchen counter. 

“Maybe you should find someone to text and stop bothering me,” Jack retorted, the words slipping past his lips so casually, almost like he hadn’t realised what he said. 

But Luke heard loud and clear.

He straightened up in his seat, his annoyance now replaced with curiosity and he flashed his brother an inquisitive look. “Who are you messaging that has you giggling?” 

“I am not giggling,” Jack huffed out before he lifted his head, finally looking away from his phone screen to catch his brother’s gaze. “And, for your information, I am texting my girlfriend.” 

A few moments of silence passed as both boys stared at each other.

Luke blinked. “When the fuck did you get a girlfriend?” 

“It’s new,” Jack said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. 

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “How new?” 

“Just a couple of months or so,” Jack murmured, at least having the guts to look a little sheepish as a light blush spread across his cheeks. 

“Months?!” Luke repeated with a scoff, the bowl of cereal he was snacking on now long forgotten. “How come this is the first time I’m hearing of it?” 

“We are keeping things private!” Jack defended. 

“I’m your brother!” Luke retorted. “You’re meant to tell me shit. I’d tell you if I had a girlfriend! Quinn would tell me if he had a girlfriend!” 

“But neither of you do,” he snapped back with a shit-eating grin. 

“And you supposedly do,” Luke muttered, shaking his head. “What’s her name?” 

“That’s not important.”

Luke blinked. “Uh, yeah, dude, I think it is.” 

Jack shrugged again. “Maybe I don’t want you to know.” 

“Why not?” Luke questioned, watching his brother just shrug again—not that he was getting fucking sick of that or anything—before he glared. “Is it someone I know?” 

“Maybe.” 

“You’re being ridiculously vague right now and it’s annoying as fuck,” Luke told him. 

Jack’s grin widened. “I know!” 

“Fine, keep your stupid secrets,” Luke grumbled as he reached for his spoon again, rolling his eyes when he heard Jack laughing. “Like I fucking care anyways.” 

But he did. 

He really fucking did and he would find out who this secret girlfriend was if it’s the last thing he did. 

...

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yourusername las vegas, you ALWAYS make me feel at home❤️🖤

view 12,930 comments

user MOTHER!!!

user hot AND talented. your fav could never

user new music when!!!

user THE SHIRT-

jackhughes ur so pretty😍😍😍

user not this guy again

user not a man

notzegrasipromise JACK???

...

...

“Yeah, I mean, I love my parents but I wish my girlfriend could’ve made it out. It would have been nice to have her here for the family skate too.” 

That was all it took for the hustling and bustling of the locker room to come to a screeching halt. 

Jack frowned, his hands holding his jersey in his hand that he had just taken off as he glanced around the room. All of the boys were giving him different looks: some concerned, some amused, some confused. It was throwing him off. 

“Uh, what?” 

“You have a girlfriend?” It was Dawson who eventually asked, his brows furrowed together in questioning.

“Yeah,” Jack nodded, feeling an odd sense of deja vu from the conversation he had with Luke a few weeks ago. “Geez, I didn’t realise we had to announce stuff like this now.”

“I mean,” Jesper spoke up, shrugging his shoulders. “We’re close, yeah? We usually just tell each other these things. You’ve never mentioned her before.”

“Don’t bother asking for her name,” Luke grumbled from the other side of the locker room.

“She’s not coming to the family skate?” Nico questioned, focusing the attention back to Jack who simply shrugged.

“She travels a bunch for work,” Jack explained. “Or, at least, for right now. She’s out in Nashville right now so she couldn’t make it.”

“But I thought you were all over that rockstar girl,” Simon spoke up from his stall, leaning back against the cubby, half dressed and legs spread. “Every time I open Twitter, I see it.”

Jack’s cheeks burned. 

Jesper gave him a disapproving look. “Don’t tell me you’ve been commenting on another girl’s instagram when you have a girlfriend. What does she think about it?”

“She likes them!” Jack defended. 

Jesper frowned. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of desperate on instagram,” Simon continued with a snort.

“Well, she hasn’t told me to stop,” Jack huffed.

“Yes, because a rockstar with a couple of million followers would personally reach out to stop you,” Luke drawled, a heavy layer of sarcasm dripping from his words.

“She would, considering she is my girlfriend.”

Once again, the locker room fell silent.

“You’re fucking shitting me,” Luke eventually spoke up, shaking his head. “You really think we believe that you pulled her?” 

Jack frowned. “What’s so hard to believe about that?”

“She’s an international rockstar and you’re just a dude who plays hockey,” Luke retorted. 

“So are you!” 

“Yeah, and I’m not sitting here trying to tell people I’m dating Taylor Swift, am I?”

“This is different,” Jack huffed before looking around the room. “I’m dating her! I really am! We met at that rock bar in Jersey City a couple of months ago and we’ve been chatting ever since.”

The boys all gave each other various looks.

“Fine, don’t believe,” Jack grumbled as he leaned down to start untying his skates. “I know I’m telling the truth. It’s not my fault you don’t believe me.”

For the record, only Jim and Ellen Hughes showed up to the New Jersey Devils’ family skate. 

...

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yourusername east coast, we are coming for you!!❤️🖤

view all 14,737 comments

user i cannot believe the tour is almost over

user NEW MUSIC WHEN

user i'm seeing you in eight days!!!!

user oh my god she is so hot

jackhughes coming back to the better coast❤️🖤

user omg he is copying the hearts too

user he is delusional

user it is the devils colours

user you sound just as delusional as him

...

“So, I’ve been talking to Luke.” 

“Oh great,” Jack grumbled as he sunk further into the pillows of the living room couch.

“And I went on Twitter.”

“You must have been pretty bored to redownload it,” Jack commented, suddenly finding interest in the strings of his hoodie, instead of his brother’s face on the phone screen. He should have known it was odd when Quinn messaged to check he was home alone before he called.

“Jack.” 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jack whined as he tried to hide himself deeper into his hoodie. “Whatever Luke told you is bullshit.”

“So you’re not telling people you’re dating an international rock sensation?” 

“Well, I’m not telling everyone,” Jack corrected. “But I am dating her!”

“Uh huh.”

“Not you too,” Jack groaned, throwing his head back and finding his gaze locked on some random part of the ceiling. “Quinn, why would I lie about this?” 

“Because you took a rough hit to the head.”

His head quickly snapped down to glare at his older brother who had the audacity to smirk in response. 

“We’re just worried, Jack. You don’t mention a single thing about talking to her. Then you’re showing up in her comments. And then you’re claiming to date her. All whilst playing and training like normal.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine if you have a little crush or something but—”

“She isn’t just a crush, she’s my girlfriend,” Jack repeated for the umpteenth time. “You’ll see soon.”

Quinn didn’t look awfully convinced  but he knew better than to push Jack on the matter any further. He instead shifted the conversation to a power play from the game before and, thankfully, Jack took the bait. In fact, he was far too busy rambling to even notice Quinn typing out a message straight to Luke. 

quinnifer: ur right 

quinnifer: he’s a fucking lost cause

...

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yourusername tour was a dream but happy to finally come home to you jackhughes ❤️🖤

view all 37,373 comments

jackhughes glad to have my girl home❤️🖤

user WHAT

user a hard launch post tour??? oh she is sick

user i can't believe we lost her to a man

user IS THIS NOT THE HOCKEY DUDE

user omg he actually stood a chance

trevorzegras WHAT THE FUCK

trevorzegras WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

user omg one sings rock and the other plays at the rock

user IT WAS WRITTEN IN THE STARS

lhughes_06 holy shit

_quinnhughes didn't see that one coming

trevorzegras HOW WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY

user i think hockey dude broke his hockey friend

jackhughes he will be fine

trevorzegras NO HE WILL NOT BE FINE

trevorzegras ANSWER YOUR PHONE ROWDY

jackhughes leave me alone, i'm trying to spend time with my girlfriend

yourusername it's true :) very little clothes included

trevorzegras i'm going to go throw myself off a cliff

user what the fuck did i just wake up to

.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

I meant to post about this back when TTPD was released and never got around to it, but it's so touching to me that Taylor has peppered so many British-isms into the album, and not just in a jokey kind of way like in "London Boy" back in the Lover days.

It's such a beautiful, subtle nod to how much that was her life for years, and to the marks the city and the muse(s) left on her. Because isn't that true of any of us when we've been around a person for so long, or live in a place we've made into our home? You start picking up their speech patterns until they become second nature. (For instance, one of my best friends moved abroad for university, and before long she started dropping in words like "fortnight," "lorry,""shops" (vs. stores) into conversation when we'd speak, which only got stronger along with her accent shifting as the years went by and she stayed there.) Kind of a love language code switching.

It’s sprinkled throughout the album. “For a fortnight” in “Fortnight,” “blokes” on “The Alchemy,” “the shops,”* in “How Did It End?” I think my favourite use of it is in “The Bolter,” because it’s such a classic twangy yeehaw Taylor song, but she’s got these tiny turns of phrase that point to where she spent a large portion of her adult life. (E.g. “best mates,” “out the drive,”* “wish he wouldn’t be sore,”*)(*yes I know these aren’t like, specifically not-American, but as someone who has grown up with North American English in the same generation as Taylor, these definitely feel anachronistic/foreign. Like if I hear someone say “the shops” instead of “the store,” “drive” instead of driveway or “sore” meaning upset, I’m thinking they either watch a lot of 1950s movies or they’re from the UK. And yes I know it’s to make everything rhyme BUT THAT’S THE POINT SHE IS MAKING THEM RHYME ON PURPOSE ok I’m stopping now before the linguistics nerd in me jumps out) It’s such a cool merging of influences, much like the album as a whole fuses together experiences and muses and sounds.

And that gets back to the “I love this place for so long,”of it all. The place is the city, the place is her home, the place is the person, and they are all part of her. To me, these are part of the subtext of the album, of the big love she once felt for all of it, and how it changed her. And, why it hurt so much to leave it all behind. So she’s starting over back home in America, but she’s taking a little bit of London with her for its curtain call on TTPD.

[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

[ww2yaoi]

Yesterday was quite a day, I mused as I hurried back from the medics: I caught diarrhea and voted for Roosevelt. Now I was bound for the barn on the west side of Uden where we had moved from an outpost in the north several days after returning from Best. The ballot had gone on its way to the States, but I still had the diarrhea; it made me hurry faster. The first platoon had taken over a large barn and made itself at home in the hay. Supposed to be on the M.L.R., we had posted a couple of men on 24-hour guard in the field behind us while we slept on soft hay in thin, one-man sleeping bags which had caught up with us with the last of the regiment’s rear echelon. It was our most comfortable position in Holland. But I couldn't enjoy it, because I had the worst diarrhea I had ever caught in the Army; I couldn't lie still for more than twenty minutes. Cramped and irritable, I had spent most of the day and night running back and forth to the slit-trench latrine behind the barn, with time out for a mile walk to the medics and a dose of sulfa pills. It was all the cooks’ fault, I mused as I came in sight of our quarters. Bastards always were dirty. They kill a cow and butcher it and boil it hard in pasty gravy and call it beef stew. It almost broke my teeth, but the stew wasn't to blame—it was the wash water afterward. Vile as the British seamen on the Samaria, who had set out cold pans of salt water for us to wash our mess kits in, they gave us a single garbage can of soapy water as a battalion rinse. By the time I got to the can, the scum was an inch thick on top. The grease clung to my pan, breeding germs, and gave me diarrhea at the next meal. I had spent last night on the run, unable to enjoy the comforts of my sleeping bag. Well, anyway I had voted. That made me happy. I had to walk almost two miles to cast my ballot, but I would have walked ten, if necessary, because this was my first vote—I was 22 in June—and I had always wanted to cast it for Roosevelt, the greatest President we had ever had and the only one who ever gave the working man a break. Roosevelt had faced and overcome the two great crises America had ever suffered: the worst depression in history and the world’s biggest war. He was a politician, as crafty and conniving as any, for politics is a cesspool of lying lawyers, but his work was greater than the man, and the country was better for it. The rich Republicans hated Roosevelt for helping the working man, for encouraging the labor unions to wring a fair day’s wage for a fair day’s work out of employers who had never heard of such a thing before and for putting into effect fair-employment practices that they considered outrageously Socialistic. Roosevelt helped the unemployed when Herbert Hoover, the last Republican, an engineer who never quite understood humanity, had said, “Let every man help his brother,” when he knew perfectly well that the rich weren't about to help the poor, never had and never would. I had grown up with Republicans and gone to school and college with them, and sickened by their selfishness, their cold avarice and lofty contempt for the common people, had early sworn to vote for the Democrats, who, for all their rotten political faults, were more concerned with the welfare of the country as a whole. Delighted that I had at last fulfilled that ambition, I snapped back to the present when I saw a dozen people standing in front of our barn. A wild-eyed crone was shrieking and cackling at some soldiers while several Dutch children looked on.

David Kenyon Webster, Parachute Infantry, pg. 142-144.

Happy election day, USAmericans! If David Webster can walk two miles with bad diarrhea in an active war zone to vote, so can you!

[peyton-warren]

Help a girl break her writer's block

I have been fighting bad writer's block for a while (years). And dealing with some mental health issues. So I am running away this weekend to a place with no cell service, just mountains and a river and a tent and my dog, with a brand new notebook and a pretty pen that writes beautifully.

Now here's where you come in....

I need prompts. I need new prompts. I wanna ignore my WIPs and dive into new stuff, drabbles, one shots, what have you to get my writer's block out of the way. I'm hoping by doing this it'll help me get back into the stories I know some of you are patiently waiting for me to finish (Blinded by the Fog, The Art of Resilience, Stick Handling ).

So send me your thoughts, thots and prompts for our favorite muses. You have til Thursday Night (Mountain Time Zone in North America) to make it into my new notebook.

Here's a list of characters I will write for/ want to write for.

Anders Lassen

Aril Levinson

Billy Butcher

Cavillrine 

Curtis Everett

Daryl Dixon

David “Deacon” Kay 

Dean Winchester

Eddie Munson

Evan Marshall

Franklin Clay

Geralt of Rivia

Gus March-Phillipps

Hannibal King 

Jake Jensen

James 'Logan" Howlett/ Wolverine

Lloyd Hansen

Ransom Drysdale

Raymond Smith

Sherlock Holmes (Cavill Version)

Syverson

Wade Wilson/ Deadpool

Walter Marshall

Tagging my tag lists for more traction. Please reblog and share.

General Tag List: @littleone65, @mysweetlittledesire, @jvanilly, @identity2212, @avengersfan25,

@ellethespaceunicorn @foxyjwls007 @gummydummy19 , @cynic-spirit , @rosecentury Anders Lassen Tag List: @wunder-blunder Blinded by the Fog Tag List: @mis-lil-red, @sconnie-doesnt-know, @ronearoundblindly @toooldforobsessions , @hooomansstuff HC Tag LIst: @m07belzen, @used-to-be-bourbonwithice, @hawklin, @geralts-yenn @summersong69, @sillyrabbit81 @mistressmkay Syverson tag list: @mrsevans90 Between a Wolf & Hard Place Tag List: @zealoushound Hidden Sun Tag List: @enchantedbytomandhenry @red42985 @liecastillo @lokislittlewarrior @littleone65

@inlovewithhisblueeyes

[lenreli]

steel-framed, concrete form [Dreamling Week Day 4 - Dirty]

[AO3] | [Dreamling Week '24 Masterpost]

Title from SHIV-R's Burning Chrome!

E, 2.8k. Dream visits his friend at his new job.

-

The automobile repair shop smells of gasoline and burning electricity, filling Dream’s head as he looks around for his precious friend. “Hob?” He calls, looking around at the various cars, a motorcycle suspended by bars, lifted off the ground as he walks around the area. 

“Here!” His friend calls and Dream halts, staring at the ground, considering that’s where the voice came from. Looking around, he eventually spots legs covered in oil-splattered jeans underneath a hideous bright yellow car. “Just a mo’,” Hob says, the sound of tinkering and metal and Dream blinks, tilting his head. 

“A mechanic,” he states, baffled as Hob continues his work, eventually sliding out from underneath the car and Dream freezes. Even with a screwdriver in his mouth, his bright smile is unmistakable, and Dream feels hot under collar, wondering if the shop was always this stuffy and he never noticed it, or if it’s because Hob is shirtless. 

And dirty, grime and oil all over his arms and neck, a streak of black going through the greys at his temple, even more on his hands as he gets out a dirty rag from his jean pocket to wipe them, taking the screwdriver from his mouth. “As much as I love the teaching and research, and I’ll definitely go back to it at some point,” Hob says as he gets up from the dolly holding him, Dream can only trail after him, a creature attracted to a magnetic north as Hob pulls on ratty black hoodie, “it’s good to do something with my hands after all this time.” 

“Of course,” he says. I know something you can use your hands on, he doesn’t say, the line popping up from somewhere deep in humanity’s consciousness ― and something he wants as Hob writes on a clipboard, presumably for the car he was just working on. Dream tries not to stare at the hair on Hob’s chest too obviously, listening as Hob talks about setting up his new life as they go outside, and Dream blinks at the lake view that greets them. “America?” 

Hob laughs and nods, getting out a cigarette and lighter, and Dream can feel nearby American birds and wildlife dreaming. “Think it’ll only be a few years, this one. Maybe go back to Europe somewhere,” Hob muses around his cigarette, shrugging. 

Dream nods, staring intently at the lake as Hob continues to smoke, the smell combined with oil making him feel ― something, as he tries to get a hold of himself, to not touch the dirty jeans, leading up to undoubtedly soft skin and splatters of oil through the hair in Hob’s happy trail. 

“Never realise how hot it is in there,” Hob grumbles and zips up his hoodie, and Dream snaps his eyes back to Hob’s face and he swallows, saliva pooling in his mouth without his say-so. 

“You are the only one working,” he points out, confused. 

“Slow week, so the other’s are mainly doing weird hours. Although, I may be the weird one, considering it is like seven in the morning.” Finishing his cigarette, he puts it out on the side of the shop, then puts it into a tiny bin inside as they walk back in. “That’s what they say about me, aside from referencing my Britishness.” 

“You are known for being odd,” he remarks after a while. Hob, getting a toolbox to bring to another car, this time a dark green ute, cracks up, laughter echoing.

“Wow. He’s got jokes today,” Hob says between giggles. “My oldest friend, telling me I’m odd, I’m struck,” he continues with a dramatic air and bright grin and Dream pushes down the smile he can feel forming. Even with Hob being shirtless, the hoodie makes it almost bearable and less like Dream’s going to lose his mind as Hob opens the hood of the ute. 

Hob starts to talk more about his history with cars and Dream listens, putting his hands in his pockets to resist reaching out as eventually, the heat apparently gets to Hob again, and he sheds his hoodie. Swallowing, Dream puts his hands in coat pockets, lest he reach out to touch the sweaty biceps, or the shoulders as they work on the car. 

And Hob keeps asking him for items, thankfully distracting him so the subconscious can tell him what specific type of screwdriver to give Hob. Instead of ― speaking in innuendos involving screwdrivers, or wanting Hob to stop, gripping his thighs and kneeling, tasting the sweat and oil on the other’s belt― 

Not that he would say those banal innuendos, but they stick under his tongue anyway, ready to be let out, so he swallows them down, breath leaving him as Hob stretches, arms going above his head as he leans side to side. Dream averts his eyes to Hob’s knee, the jeans ripped up over it as Hob goes over to another car, tinkering with it. 

There’s vague sounds of welcome and laughter, two of Hob’s co-workers coming in, since they also begin to work on cars, talking about their night’s and how another one of them has reception duty today. Hob talks with them, expression confused as they look over at him, but Dream keeps unnoticed by them, which Hob doesn’t comment on. 

So far, Matthew hasn’t come in, panicking or calling for anything urgent, so Dream stays, fascinated with seeing Hob talk and share inside jokes with his co-workers, their casual touching make him itch under his skin. Hob’s occasional glances at him as they work on cars, the garage doors opening to let more cars in, people milling about outside. 

Enough time passes that Hob goes for his lunch break, Dream follows along silently as he wonders where the time went as Hob gets out something from the fridge ― a salad which he takes to his office, Hob putting his feet under him as he sits on the ratty leather sofa. “Not bored yet?” Hob asks in between bites. 

Dream stands near the sofa, hands still firmly in his pockets, “it is fascinating, compared to your other job I’ve seen you at,” he says, looking out of the window to see a car being levied onto the metal bars, lifting it up so they could work on it. 

Hob laughs, “I bet. More than just books or essays to grade. Though you know everything about mechanics, of course, being all,” Hob gestures at him, “like which of these bastards keeps stealing my Reese’s.” Dream opens his mouth to answer, but is stopped by Hob holding up a finger, “I don’t want to know actually. I’ll find out on my own.” 

“Incorrigible man,” he mutters and Hob laughs once more, most of his salad already inhaled. 

“Pot calling the kettle black a bit,” Hob says between mouthfuls of food as he sits up to lean on the sofa, joining him in watching the garage work. Salad now gone, Hob gets up with a groan, and Dream watches as the container gets stowed into a small bag. Hob gives him a look, dark and piercing and Dream stills ― not that he was moving, expecting something out of a stare like that, but all Hob does is leave the room. 

Dream follows. And he tries to not stare so blatantly at the small of Hob’s back, a thumbprint of oil on his side ― and even as the other mechanics won’t notice him, he still feels obvious as he follows Hob to an area in the large garage without any cars in the vicinity. 

The quiet corner feels private as Hob sighs, crossing his arms and Dream’s sight is redirected to the hairy chest in front of him. “Dream,” the tone, almost afraid, makes him look up as Hob huffs, “if I do something stupid right now, would you leave?” 

“No,” he answers, confused with how serious Hob is. 

“Promise?” Hob steps closer, “on the Dreaming? That even if you hate it, or curse me or whatever, you won’t leave?” Hob continues ― and puts his pinky finger in the air and Dream blinks.

“I promise,” he confirms, joining his own pinky with Hob’s, noticing the oil he can feel on it― 

So focused on the smear of oil he can feel, it takes him a few seconds to realise that’s Hob leant forward, lips pressed against his, pinkies still joined between them― 

And it’s only as Hob’s mouth leaves, does the warmth of him creep in, and he reaches out with his free hand, stopping him from getting even further away as he kisses back. There’s a sigh against his lips, Hob’s other hand grabbing onto his coat collar as they kiss, tentative and new. 

The kiss ends, but Hob stays close, laughing quietly between them, “thank fuck for that,” Hob says, and Dream marvels at almost feeling another quiet laugh, Hob’s eyes crinkling. “I was pretty sure, but y’know, fear that you’d run out on me again,” he says softly and Dream’s eyes widen. 

“I am sorry,” he frowns, “had I known―” 

He’s interrupted with another kiss, Hob letting go of his pinky to scrape a hand through his hair and he shivers, the touch hot, gasping as his hand between them touches the other’s chest, the hair coarse and slick from oil and Dream moans, arousal coiling tightly and Hob laughs into his mouth. “Later.” 

Unwillingly, his face heats up, unwilling to let go of Hob’s chest hair and the way Hob stares at him ― like he expected it. “I was that obvious,” he starts to frown, though Hob doesn’t let it sit before he’s being kissed again as he’s tugged even closer, can feel the heat warmth and smell sweat and oil, filling his senses. 

“A bit, yeah,” Hob grins into their kiss, and an embarrassing sound gets pulled out of him as the hand on his cloak trails up to cup his cheek. “Thank you for whatever it is that lets us do this without getting jeering from my coworkers,” Hob says between more kisses, and Dream breathes, clutching tightly onto Hob’s chest, the warmth of the other man overwhelming. 

Dream has honestly forgotten that others were around, and he drags Hob into a deeper, filthier kiss, shivering at the way a hand clutches his waist, fingers pushing up and under his shirt. “I want,” he doesn’t finish, too busy biting down Hob’s neck, enjoying the taste of sweat and the scratch of stubble along his tongue. 

“Have a pretty good idea of what you want,” Hob breathes, and Dream whines at the way a hand in his hair tugs him up so they can kiss. The hand under his shirt goes up his back, and he can feel the oil on his skin ― and there’s a prickle at his awareness, a passing daydream of a silver car―

“Like that?” He asks as he pulls the car out of the daydream and Hob freezes, eyes going wide at seeing the car ― another bit of perception to filter away as Hob gapes at it. “Why this one?”

Hob blinks, brown eyes wide and then Dream finds himself pushed against it, both of Hob’s hands going under his shirt as they share a frenzied kiss, the car cool against his back. “I had it in the ‘80’s,” Hob replies, opening up the back door and pushing Dream onto the backseat, and Hob’s eyes get darker as they stare at him. “Though often about just,” Hob leans over him, making Dream swallow as a finger tugs at his jeans. “Can I?” 

Hob’s head is filled with old daydreams ― of him and this car, fantasies of skin and sweat and blinding pleasure―”please,” Dream chokes, leaning up to kiss Hob, hands going to pat his chest, going down to take off Hob’s belt, skin hot under pants as they moan, as Hob’s nails scratch up his skin. 

His head hits the car door, too focused on the ways they’re joined, touching and kissing, the feeling of callused fingers flicking his nipples making him whine and arch up, disappearing his coat and shirt with a thought. Hob lets out a sound, fingers digging into his skin, “so beautiful,” Hob says, voice strangled as he looks down, and Dream has a split second of seeing oil on his chest before Hob goes for his jaw, biting down to his throat. “Fuck, please, let me.” 

“Anything,” he moans, grabbing onto one of Hob’s hands, feeling the calluses on his palms as he sucks a pointer finger into his mouth, acrid oil and hot sweat as Hob shakes above him, teeth scraping his neck as Hob looks up with wide eyes as Dream sucks the other fingers clean, tongue laving the other’s palm. 

Hob lets out another strangled whine and takes back his hand, Hob grinding onto him, hard cock against his thigh. Looking past the other man, he can see the windows are black and opaque, no glass in sight as he works on pulling Hob’s pants off, with Hob laughing as they kiss messily, Hob moving against him to tug his boots off. 

The lower half of Dream’s clothes vanish, only the sound of skin and moaning as Hob puts a finger inside, making him keen at the pressure, Hob’s other hand digging into his stomach, leaving oil as Hob starts to speak, praise falling from his lips easily.

“There is no need to prepare,” he stresses as Hob adds another finger, twisting them and Dream shudders and leans forward to bite at the edge of Hob’s beard. 

“Getting that, but I want to,” Hob chuckles and Dream tries to scold him, though the words become a whine as Hob presses against his prostate as he’s stretched open. “Thinking I probably don’t need a condom either, which is lucky, considering I’m not in the habit of taking those to work,” Hob continues and Dream cries out, hands scrabbling up to the other’s shoulders. 

“Hob,” he aches, wants even more, and there’s an embarrassing sound as the fingers leave, then returns with four ― brushing persistently against that nerve and his cock twitches. “Stop, now,” he tries to order, the words coming out broken and pleading. 

“Impatient, huh,” Hob grins, brown eyes sparkling as the fingers twist and press into him even more, making him shiver, Hob’s other hand eventually digging into his hip to keep him still. 

“Very,” Dream growls and Hob seems to get even more gleeful, fingers crooking inside―then suddenly leaving him empty. Opening his eyes, he glares at the other man. 

Hob pants and soon enough something bigger presses against him, and Dream bites back at a cry at the feeling, the other man slowly filling him. There’s a strangled whine from Hob, who stops for a moment and kisses him roughly―and he gasps as the other’s cock is slammed in. “Dream,” Hob whispers, forehead resting against his as they breathe each other’s air. 

Dream tries to hold onto every emotion, every sensation as Hob fucks him, but he can only manage snapshots. The tang of sweat on his tongue as he licks up the other’s shoulder, up to his neck, the pleasure burning through him like a wildfire, Hob’s cracked pleas of his name, of how good you feel― 

And then coming, Hob first, him following at the way the flood fills him, frenzied pleasure becoming something more soft and bearable as they share lazy kisses. 

Hob sighs, and Dream keens as Hob leaves him, “I know. But, I’m still on the clock,” Hob says softly, kisses just as delicate and Dream pouts ― and gets a soft black towel from a swimmer’s dreams, which Hob uses to clean them up. Hob pulls him out of the car, still close enough for them to kiss even more, and Dream relaxes against the car as Hob puts on his jeans and boots, oil now more smeared over him than before. 

“Should I leave?” He asks, fearing the answer as his clothes appear on himself, Hob blinking before putting hands on his waist. 

“Definitely not. Just let me complete my shift, then we can get out of here,” Hob says between kisses and Dream sighs as Hob nips up to his ear. “The car may have to go wherever it was before, but that’s it. And. Well. The whole perception for me, obviously.” 

Dream frowns and the car vanishes, so grabs onto Hob’s jaw, stubble pleasant under his hands. “Fine. I will do the arduous task of watching you work more,” he says solemnly, making Hob do a crinkly-eyed smile. 

“Oh yes. So terrible. Not at all like you didn’t want to jump me the entire time.” 

Dream scoffs and twirls a strand of brown hair over a finger, eyeing the streaks of black oil over the greys at Hob’s temple, “I do not jump.”

[Fin]

[small-sinclair]

Musical Muse

Vincent Sinclair x reader

House of Wax Slasher band!au

Tw: Vincent was in a fire (he’s okay), some hints at sex but nothing graphic described, let me know if I missed anything!

A gift for @im-his-druidess and au by @arkunder

It was Vincent’s first night home for a 7-month-tour around North America. Late night FaceTime calls, texts messages, postcards, poems— it was good to see him home. The penciled in a two-week break for Lester’s doctor appointments and for a mental break. It was good to rest and sleep in for a moment. All three of them needed to recover from the accident—

He takes a deep breath and let it out slowly. He won’t dwell on it. Not now at least. Lester is safe and Bo’s hands were healing. That’s all that matters now.

Vincent tried to be quiet when he entered. He hung his base on the hook and stopped to look at the photos of you both. One of you two in the studio, another in a band shirt, and a lovely one of you and him at the alter, saying your vows.

As soon as he heard your footsteps flying down the steps, he felt his heart pull. “You’re home!” You shouted smiling, leaping up.

He threw his duffel bag on the floor in the doorway just in time to catch you. He spun you around in the air, smiling under his half wooden-plated mask. He blushes as your kisses littered his half-shown face.

“I missed you!” You yelled, giggling as he lowered you back to the floor. He rests his forehead against yours and held your hips just memorize you once more. “I really missed you, Vincent.” You lift your hands and hold his face. “You were gone forever.”

He nods in agreement. He didn’t want to sign anything, not just yet. Vincent didn’t want this moment to be over. Having you back made his unwritten melodies complete and he could hear notes play as he takes you in. You are his muse for most songs after all.

He took your hand and guided it to his mask, gesturing to you to take it off. Your feather-like hands took off his mask slowly and he closed his eyes, shivering at the cool air. His mask hung in your hand, and you smiled when you saw his face. He’s just as beautiful as the day he left you. Your free hand held his scarred cheek, his head leaning into your touch, while your eyes tracing every bit of him. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, your hand, then ending with your lips. He pulled away before holding you close to deepen his kiss.

He has time to make up. Seven whole months without your touch, your embrace… he is a sinner. Your sinner. His deity. He has to find forgiveness.

With ease, he lifts you up, carries you with his arms under your legs, and heads for the bedroom down the hall.

~~~~~~

As you slept on his chest, Vincent held up his song book, writing silently, as a watched eye on you. Your shoulders were bruised with his love and affection like his. He only wanted to be closer to you and more. What praise can he give but love for you?

A song will do.

A song just for you so others can sing praises of you, be followers of you, but none will ever be as faithful and loyal as him.

He hummed the chorus one more time before closing his book just in time for you to wake up. He sat his book aside and laid flat on his back. You nuzzled into his neck and left a small kiss over his adam’s apple. A relaxed sigh escaped his throat as he threw his head to the side.

“Did you miss me?”

He nods, tracing his answer in your skin, ‘Yes.’

“Bed was too cold while you were gone,” you noted, his thumb gently making circles in your back. “But sleeping in your shirt’s comforted me.” You drew a heart in the center of his chest. “I took care of the plants, too. The cactus gave birth so there’s baby cactuses. Guess that makes us grandparents or something.”

He smirks and chuckles.

Silence was warm and comfortable between you two. The soft thumping of his heartbeat made house feel like home again. “…I really missed you,” you murmured. You felt Vincent’s lips in your hair as he pulled you closer to him. In a way, that was him showing that he’s here and you’re safe. “For a while, I went crazy thinking you weren’t coming home. I saw the fire at that wax museum you and your brothers were playing, the wax falling Lester’s back, and they got a video of your mask melting…” your voice trailed as he stiffened at the memory.

If the silence is too loud, he can still hear his baby brother’s voice screaming in pain and agony. Bo and he made dirt out of the inferno, but Lester was trapped, scared and alone. He remember he took off his mask before running back on Bo’s heels; his mask felt too heavy to wear that night. He still sees how bright the orange and yellow flames were as Bo moved wood and metal off his back. He ended up burning some spots on his hands but he doesn’t care. He was just as desperate as Vincent to get their brother out. Each twin took an arm and raced out with him before the museum’s gas could explode. Bo and he cradled their brother then paramedics rushed to his side and took him to the hospital.

He remembered how the world of heavy rock and metal was quiet for the night.

That’s why Bo canceled two weeks of interviews that night, 16 days ago, so they can recover from everything.

He gripped your body tighter and held you closer. You figured he must’ve been scared because he didn’t give you room to wiggle or move. Your hands held his arms and closed your eyes. “I’m happy you’re okay and safe. I’m happy and thankful.”

Vincent made a soft noise, agreeing with you.

“Just want to stay like this and cuddle,” you said, not asking. Luckily he nods in agreement, lifting the blanket up higher over your shoulders.

He didn’t want anything else but this. Vincent wanted you in his arms, in his heart, engraved into his mind. He’ll finish the song and draw a picture of you to put up in the bus. For now, he’ll focus on you and the reality of this feeling.

The sunset over the town like a dream.

[placeholdercornerworks]

In a fit of inspiration at @searivermountain 's , @idanit 's and @a-case-of-the-ace 's AU posts about Jeeves and Wooster living in their respective countries, here are my two (albeit rough and unpolished two cents) about Jeeves and Wooster if they were living in the Kindgom of Italy.

I'm rewinding the actual OG setting by a decade or so as such, we're talking of the turn of the century here, 1898-1912.

First, a few setting points:

• I imagined them living in Turin, initially this was because it tied well with other plot points (Such as chuffy owning his seaside vacation houses(?) on the coast of Liguria and still being able to put Rocky "abroad" in France). Historically you could explain it by saying his parents moved there shortly after the proclamation of the Kingdom of Italy in 1861 because they saw it as a reason of prestige, perhaps some aunts followed suit, so on so forth.

• To elaborate on Rocky, the equivalent of them going to America in S3 of the show would be Bertie residing in Monaco and Jeeves doesn't get sent to scout New York for Rocky's aunt, but rather Montecarlo.

• To move back to Turin, while gents clubs similar to the drones did exist in Italy at the time, it would have been much likely for them to meet at a cafe since many known groups in Italy organized in such way (e.g Varied well known turn-of-century writers often ruinited at the Giubbe Rosse in Rome and the "Macchiaioli" artists often reunited at the Caffè Michelangelo in Florence)

• The Ganymede however would have operated in a way closer to that of gents club.

• Bertie, such as his standing commands, is gonna get promptly shipped to study law at the University of Turin cause I swear it's lowkey a recurrent fact with many of the wealthier authors I studied, it was "the thing" much.

Now, before I get onto miscellaneous trivia and ramblings and such, my two thoughts on their alternative names.

• The direct italianization of Reginald is Rinaldo, which I'd be keen on keeping (alternatively Raimondo has practically the same etymology and derivation), for surname, upon learning that Jeeves derives from Genevieve, which was the patron of Paris, I've decided to give him the surname Parisi, for the sake of the assonance.

• For Bertie on the other hand, the direct italianization of Betram is fucking Beltramo and I am in fact not keeping that so to remain on something similar sounding, he's Bernando now cause calling his Alberto keep the Bertie bit feels weird. As for surname, I'm similarly going of assonance, but with his original surname and as such I'm calling him Vistarini.

And now, miscellaneous trivia, lo and behold!

• Newts, or more specifically, a specie of newts known as the Italian Crested Newt, is more of a thing in central to southern Italy, so Gussy hereby has a thing for eels here in Italy, which were more common in bodies of water in the North.

• Bertie being interested in aviation!!! It was very much the next new thing so he'd often muse to Jeeves about his curiousity towards the inner workings of this jolly contraptions, tried to operate a plane once, crashes it in 50m, but if you were to ask Jeeves he'll succesfully find the right guy with the right plane to give him a ride to give Bertie aerial photos of the city he's much excited about.

• Jeeves seemingly knows every literature known to man and he's ready to counter-prove or counter-quote a statement with an appropriate literary quote. This is more instinctive musing but I feel like Bertie would often make paragons to the plays of Alfieri and Goldoni, or alternatively, Latin stuff and he'd surely have studied it majorly in uni.

• Additionally I think it would be highly funny to have Jeeves and Bertie discuss Parini, il giorno specifically.

• God blast d'Annunzio also cause Tuppy would 100% be keen on comparing is love-unfilled existence to the banes of a d'Annunzio protag, he thinks himself the next embodiment of Andrea Sperelli and Bertie is just "Heh, silly Tuppy"

• This applies generally but lots of theatre going involved, they have stayed over in Milan before to catch premieres at The Scala and one of this baboons surely said they were gonna find themselves a girl like Eleonora Duse

• The cast of the drones routinely gets dragged in honor fencing duels over this or that offence or this or that woman and Bertie is frequently dragged in under the excuse "Oh, come on, the other party has never seen me before, you can go in my stead!", he miserably fucking fails and on the other hand this is another venture in which jeeves excels

[mineralsrocksandfossiltalks]

Monday Musings: The Ring of Fire

Not gonna lie, every time I think about the Pacific Ring of Fire, this song gets stuck in my head (and I love this song so play away).

The Pacific Ring of Fire is a ring of volcanoes around the Pacific Plate Subduction zones.

It is about 25,000 miles long (40,000km) and it contains somewhere between 750-915 active and dormant volcanoes. This is about 2/3 or the world's total volcanoes!

It is also where about 90% of the world's earthquakes occur as well. Speaking of which, if you didn't hear there was an earthquake that happened on December 5th just off the coast of northern California. The recording will be posted on my Patreon so go join and check it out!

Now, this ring of fire is a complex system. I remember being taught as a kid that the Pacific Plate is subducting below like four different plates but that just isn't right. It's actually several plates interacting with each other. Let's zoom in.

We usually only hear about the large plates but there are tons of smaller ones around the globe. For instance, all the ones in this map. The red is the Philippine Plate which is subducting beneath the Eurasian Plate. As you can sea, the Pacific Plate is further out. Not subducting.

The Pacific Plate is subducting under parts of North America, but so is the smaller, older Juan de Fuca and Cocos Plates.

The Nazca Plate is being subducted along the west coast of South America as well as part of the Antarctic Plate. Just for funsies, the map below shows how much has been subducted and what the depth is.

The Ring of Fire has existed for a little over 35 million years. That means subduction of these plates began in the Late Eocene Epoch.

The largest volcanic eruptions in human history occurred in the Ring of Fire. We will start with the 1902 Santa Maria eruption in Guatamala. The volcano is estimated to have started erupting about 103,000 years ago during the Pleistocene Epoch. However, by 102 it was considered dormant. The 1902 eruption had a VEI (Volcanic Explosive Index) of 6 (the highest being a 7) which makes it "colossal".

Mt. Pinatubo activity began about 1.1 million years ago (known as Ancestral Pinatubo). The modern Pinatubo began erupting about 79,000 BC. It's eruption in 1991 is the most famous though. It was the second largest eruption in the 20th century but a lot more devastating. It was also rated a 6 on the VEI and it ejected about 10 cubic km worth of material (10 times larger than the Mt St Helen eruption a decade earlier).

Before and after shot of the river valley near Pinatubo.

Lake Pinatubo now fills the crater left behind by the eruption.

One of the most famous is the 1883 eruption of Krakatoa. It's eruption was so violent that it was heard in Perth Australia nearly 2,000 miles away.

It caused a massive pressure wave that was recorded on barographs around the world (in some cases, the wave was recorded 7 times!). It created devastating tsunamis and killed at least 36,000 people. The eruption lasted from May until October peaking in August when nearly the entire island collapsed into a caldera. Ash fell over approximately 1500 squares miles and the eruption caused a volcanic winter. This one is also categorized as a 6 VEI.

The largest eruption in the Holocene was that of Mt. Tambora in 1815. The volcano had been dormant for centuries caused by gradual cooling of hydrous magma in its closed magma chamber. At depths of abot 5,000-15,000 ft, the exsolution began to form causing an over-pressurization in the chamber (about 58,000-73,000 psi) with temps ranging between 700-850 degrees Celsius (1,290-1,560 degrees F). It is thought that the explosions from the initial eruption could be heard clear over in Thailand over 2,000 miles away.

Pyroclastic flows wiped out the village of Tambora and 13 ft tsunamis hit many Indonesian islands. The explosion had an estimated VEI of 7 with an estimated 10 cubic miles (41 cubic km) of ejecta weighing 10 billion tonnes. The caldera left behind is about3-4.5 miles across and nearly 2300ft (700m) deep. The eruption released the amount of energy equivalent to 33 gigatons of TNT. This was such a large eruption that it caused the Year Without A Summer in the northern hemisphere. The dramatic cooling directly and indirectly killed 90,000 people. Way to go Tambora.

The largest earthquakes on Earth as well including the Sumatra earthquake in 2004 whose 100ft high tsunami killed over 200,000 people in 14 countries the day after Christmas.

There is also the Greta Chilean Earthquake in 1960 estimated at a magnitude 9.4 on the moment magnitude scale. An 82ft tsunami battered the Chilean shores and effected Hawaii, Japan, the Philippines, New Zealand, Australia and the Aleutian Islands.

All in all, the Ring of Fire is a deadly mix in geologic terms and insanely fascinating as it gives a spectacular look into the inner workings of our planet.

Tune in tomorrow for some volcanic trivia! Fossilize you later!

[retiredkat]

Red-UK Magazine Raising the Stakes interview with Jacob Anderson

Must give email address to read the full article

“Jacob Anderson has a very sweet tooth. ‘I’m, like, addicted to sweetness, ever since being in America,’ he says, sipping tea with a sheepish smile. Having come to meet me in North London after dropping his daughter at nursery, the 34-year-old star of AMC’s hit series Interview With The Vampire is sitting with his face towards the morning sunshine, a move unlike the supernatural being he plays. ‘It’s good to have everything in moderation,’ he muses, opening a sachet of sweetener. ‘But the minute you start paying too much attention to quantities of things…’ he pauses, ‘it’s like sucking the joy out.’

It’s an apt metaphor for the show we’re meeting to discuss. Based on Anne Rice’s 1976 novel, the lavish revamp sees Anderson play the brooding vampire Louis de Pointe du Lac as he recounts a life of eternal love and bloodlust to journalist Daniel Molloy (Eric Bogosian). In an era when television feels increasingly bland, the show pulls off theatrical magic with its epic, queer reinvention of Rice’s work. ‘You don’t really get weird stories with scale,’ notes Anderson. ‘And I feel like this show has managed to hit the sweet spot of scale and oddness.’

Having attempted to despatch his paramour Lestat de Lioncourt (Sam Reid) and then moved to Paris with his adopted daughter Claudia (Delainey Hayles), Louis works to untangle his manipulated memories in the second season. ‘There’s a lot of tension building,’ says Anderson. ‘In episode one, in particular, I remember thinking Louis has a tension headache for years. It affects his decision-making, and his outbursts. And he makes a lot of poor decisions in season two.’ There’s a great deal of unresolved trauma, he observes, ‘Louis is very emotionally constipated in that way. I think he’s not quite able to embrace his grief, embrace his first 30 years of vampirism. He’s also unravelling in the present; all of that suppression and repression is coming back to get him.

Therapy is the place where Anderson goes to figure things out. ‘I don’t want to be like a ball of confusion and contradiction. I have two daughters to raise,’ he smiles. ‘I don’t want to be another angry man, because they’re gonna meet a lot of angry, oppressed men in their lives.’ Since playing Louis, though, he suspects the boundaries between fiction and real life have become blurred. ‘There are things about Louis that I justify, like, “I understand this decision, and therefore we’re the same.”’ he laughs. Getting deep into character, I suggest, must lend itself to overthinking. ‘Yeah, I’m a huge overthinker,’ he says emphatically. ‘Sitting here, I just noticed my own body language, and my brain is firing off.’

Despite having been in the public eye for most of his life (both on TV and in his music, which he records under the name Raleigh Ritchie), Anderson keeps a low profile. ‘I’m quite a private person,’ he chuckles. He largely avoids social media, as he has an ‘internal compass’ that guides him towards negative criticism. ‘I think it would be unhealthy to spend too much time indulging in how other people are looking at me,’ he says. ‘I feel like I’d lose my sense of self; the sense of self that I’ve been trying to build up all this time.’

As a child, he was always waiting for adulthood to begin. He moved to London at the age of 17, not specifically to pursue a career in acting, but mainly to leave his home city of Bristol. ‘I have a really healthy relationship with my home city now,’ he says, ‘but at the time, I just wanted to escape.’ He was always resourceful in his pursuit of opportunities. ‘In the beginning, I would get coaches up to London at four in the morning to get to an audition at nine. And I would do that a few times a week. And then if I stayed over for some reason, I’d stay at like a backpacker’s hostel for £19.’ Since that point, he’s worked solidly. ‘I think I have a bit of a work thing,’ he confesses. ‘I really feel like myself when I’m working. I feel like I can key into the version of myself that I most want to be, and it gives me a real sense of purpose.’

Playing the stoic Unsullied warrior Grey Worm in HBO’s Game Of Thrones was an ‘emotionally taxing’ experience at times. ‘The challenging bit was giving myself something to do sometimes, like, keeping myself alive in the scene,’ he recalls. ‘Trying to stay present was a real challenge.’ But it also proved to be a valuable learning curve. ‘You don’t need lines, you don’t need words to tell your part of the story. You can do it with your face. You can do it with your body language. So I learned a lot from doing that. But I was ready for it to be over.’

When he finished the show in 2018, he felt burnt out. ‘That last year was so brutal. It was an amazing experience in lots of ways, but I was also very low and so I just took a break for a bit.’ He considered giving up acting. ‘I was just losing my love a little bit,’ he says. The thing that inspired him again was playing recurring character Vinder in Doctor Who, a show that he aspired to be on as a child. ‘That gave me back my play. It re-energised me.’

He certainly wasn’t prepared for the phenomenon that Thrones would become. ‘It was really surprising,’ he recalls. ‘Whenever we went through the press for it, it felt like being in The Beatles or something. But when we were making it, it was really intimate.’ In any case, he isn’t driven by conventional measures of success. ‘The processes are really important. I’ve really learned that, for me, it doesn’t matter if the thing is good. If making it isn’t a pleasant experience, or joyful in some way, fulfilling or cathartic, then it wasn’t worth it. I don’t really care if something is, like, quote unquote, a hit or success, if making it was miserable, you know?’

What really drives Anderson, is creating work that helps people feel seen; and the enthusiastic response to Interview With The Vampire (plus an early season three renewal) has proved that it’s resonating with audiences on a deep level. ‘To be a part of something that people take into their hearts so much is really special,’ he says. ‘Through music and films and TV was how I learned how to be a human, you know?’ He pauses, looking deep in thought. ‘To see that I’ve contributed in some way to something that does that for other people gives me a sense of “it’s the right thing to do”. Like, I’m still doing this for the reason that I got into it.’ He smiles, ‘So yeah, it’s lovely.’”

[clonefandomevents]

Haunted Clone Week Prompts!

Here are the prompts for the Haunted Clone Week! There were so many good options and ideas, that we decided to give a total of nine prompts a day! As well as two Free Days, and a little surprise Bonus as well! Can't wait to see what they inspire!

Day 1- October 23rd

-Folklore, Mysteries and Regional Gothic of South America; Haunted Kamino

-Ghost Ships

-Time Loops

-Space Bermuda Triangle

-Dark Between the Stars

NSFW Prompt- Battlefield Sex

-"You said I killed you- haunt me then!" from Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

Day 2-October 24th

-Folklore, Mysteries and Regional Gothic of Africa; Haunted Christophsis

-Force Ghosts

-Left Behind

-Not Quite Human

-Bloody Hands

-NSFW Prompt- Blood Kink

-"Ghosts are guilt, ghosts are secrets, ghosts are regrets and failings. But most times, most times a ghost is a wish." (The Haunting of Hill House)

Day 3- October 25th

-Folklore, Mysteries and Regional Gothic of Europe; Haunted Umbara

-They Don't Know They're Dead

-Marching Far Away (But Still Beside Me)

-Body Horror -Please Not Again

-NSFW Prompt-Ghost Sex

-“I’m scared to close my eyes, I’m scared to open them. We’re gonna die out here.” — Heather Donahue, “The Blair Witch Project”

Day 4- October 26th

-Folklore, Mysteries and Regional Gothic of Australia; Haunted Felucia

-Ghost Stories

-Trapped and Not Alone

-Eldritch Horror

-Moonlight

-NSFW Prompt-Knife Play

-"Dozens of eyes looked out from the trees"

Day 5- October 27th

-Folklore, Mysteries and Regional Gothic of North America; Haunted Dothomir

-Mistaking a Ghost for a Living Person

-Marching Back (Dead Clones Coming Back)

-The Witching Hour

-Accidentally Cursed

-NSFW Prompt-Ritual Sex

-"Soldier keep on marching on/Head down till the work is done" - "Soldier" by Fleurie

Day 6- October 28th

-Folklore, Mysteries and Regional Gothic of Asia; Haunted Coruscant

-Haunted Space Ships

-Their Armor Holds Thier Souls

-Glowing Eyes in the Dark

-Fog

-NSFW Prompt-Possession

-"It seems to me that the dead only return for love or for revenge. Who did you come back for?" from White is For Witching by Helen Oyeyemi

Days 7 &8- October 29th-30th

Free Days! Have a prompt you liked, but wasn't included? Have a spooky idea that doesn't quite fit one of the other days? These are the days designed specifically for you!

BONUS!- October 31st

So, I apparently am not good at counting. Which gave us an extra day to the week on accident! So, we decided to do something a little different for the accidental bonus day.

Twist An Episode Day!

-Basically, it's take any episode of Clone Wars, Bad Batch, anything the clones are in and twist it so the CLONES are the ones coming out on top. Do something to an episode so that it's the soldiers fighting, not the corrupt leadership, who benefit. Preferably something a little out there, a lil spooky, but it can be whatever you want. Use the extra day so that for once, it's the clones winning.

-Links to Photo Prompts origins below

[theemporium]

how about 💰with famous!eddie? he could be a rockstar or maybe he’s made it big in the hockey world! whatever creative licenses you want to take is perfect!

maybe something with them having been apart for a little while and just wanting to spoil his girl now that he’s back? fancy dinner and nice music, some good old romance and fluff. <3

- 🦇

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Eddie, this is too much.”

“Nonsense.” 

“There aren’t even prices on the menu,” you murmured in a hushed voice as you leaned over the table, staring at him with wide eyes. The restaurant was dimly lit and intimate, and far fancier than you could ever imagine choosing—let alone affording. “The food is all written in French!”

“Calme-toi, mon amour,” Eddie grinned back at you, the French passing past his lips with ease. But you guessed after a world tour or two, it would make sense that he would pick up a few phrases in other languages here and there. “Just enjoy it.”

“Ordering a pizza would have been fine too,” you said to him, something in your stomach twisting at the idea that maybe he expected you to want this. 

“But then I wouldn’t get to see you in that killer dress, baby,” Eddie retorted. “And that would have been a tragedy.” 

Eddie Munson, a joker at heart even if his name was blasted over billboards and stadiums across the world.

Eddie Munson, your dinner date even when he had half the world throwing themselves at his feet of the most renowned rockstar in the music industry today.

He had just finished the North American stint of his tour and he had a gap between he headed down to South America and then Europe. And as much as he begged and pleaded, you couldn’t join him around the country which led to a very needy boy who was desperate to spend every possible moment with you. 

But the boy never did anything half-assed. He was never one to flaunt his money or throw it around, but when it came to you? The boy pulled all the stops. He dolled you up a new outfit he bought earlier that day, treated you with more gifts than you could count before dragging you to the fancy restaurant uptown that you couldn’t even afford to step foot in, let alone dine. 

But this was Eddie Munson and he wanted to give you the world.

“I would’ve worn it for you at home,” you told him, the words light-hearted but the truth still lacing your voice. “All you had to do was ask.”

His eyes darkened. “That is all I have to do?”

“If you asked nicely, I might’ve even let you pick what I wore underneath,” you teased as you reached for the glass of wine, taking a sip as your gaze caught his over the rim.

“Don’t do this, baby,” Eddie groaned, though there was a smile on his face. “You’re gonna make me ask for the bill before the starters come out.” 

You grinned. “Maybe that was a part of my plan.”

He raised his brows. “You have a plan?”

“A girl’s guide to seducing a rockstar,” you told with him a nod of your head. “So far, it’s been working out quite well. I might make the thing my autobiography.”

Eddie’s face broke out into a massive grin and it made your chest feel funny. “If you want a quote, I can happily tell you how effective methods have been.”

“I’ll be sure to mention it in a chapter if I have the space,” you retorted. 

Eddie couldn’t help himself as he reached over the table, taking one of your hands in his as he placed a chaste kiss on the back of your palm. “Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you?”

Your cheeks burned. “Eddie—”

“No, I mean it, baby,” he said, the sincerity of his emotions evident in his eyes. “All of it wouldn’t be worth it without you. The fame and the touring and the music—you keep me grounded. You make it easy.”

Your chest tightened as you squeezed his hand. “I wanna keep being that for you.” 

“Oh I’m not letting you go anytime soon,” Eddie said with a laugh, placing another kiss on your knuckles. “You’re my inspiration. Which artist gets rid of their muse?” 

“An artist that takes their muse to a restaurant where the bread rolls cost more than her rent,” you retorted playfully.

“Yeah, it’s a bit much,” Eddie laughed before giving you a look, a hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. “What do you say I pay the bill and we ditch this place? Get some pizza on the way back to eat so I can enjoy that dress of yours when we get home.”

“I’d say you’re gonna have to carry me because these heels are killing my feet.”

Eddie grinned. “Anything for my muse.”

.

[hollywoods-angel]

donyale <3

donyale luna was a supermodel and actress during the 1960s. she's cited as being the first black supermodel and the first black model to appear on vogue. she was a muse to salvador dali and starred in numerous underground films of the 1960s.

born peggy ann freeman to middle class parents she spent her teenager years studying typing, journalim and the performing arts. she later went by the name "donyale george luna"- a persona she'd created, and in 1963 she was discovered by a modelling agent who recommended she move to new york to find work as a model or actress. in 1964 donyale was introduced to the editor of harper's bazaar. the same year she wored with paco rabanne and witnessed him being harrased & spit on by american journalists for casting all black models.

in 1965 she moved to london due to the racism she was facing in america, and a mental breakdown. her likeness was also sketched onto the cover of harper's bazaar, but was marketed as being 'racially ambigious.' the same year she was photographed with supermodel jean shrimpton, and half of the beatles- paul mccartney and ringo starr. in 1966 she was the first black woman to be on the cover of british vogue, worked with mary quant and gained the title "model of the year.' she was one of the top models, and in 1967 she was on numerous album covers as well as the film 'tonite lets all make love in london.'

in 1968 she was in the rolling stones' rock n roll circus, and was friends with brian jones. in 1969 she was on the cover of american vogue. in 1973 and 1974 donyale stayed in north america, doing runways in new york and toronto. in 1974 she was on warhol's magazine (called interview) and in 1975 she was in playboy.

her career began to decline which was due to her drug use (which was controversial) and also being described as unpredictable to work with. she had small acting roles on tv and in counterculture films. notably in 1967 when she was in tonite let's all make love in london, as well as the rolling stones rock n roll circus.

donyale's legacy is one of faking it until you make it- creating a persona of sorts and embodying that. she faced racial discrimination during her time as a model, but nevertheless she worked hard and helped pave the way for other black models in the industry. she rejected being type-cast to a certain look, or fitting the 'exotic' look photographers wanted her to have. unfortunately this has led to the modeling industry forgetting about her, despite how hard she worked and how much she accomplished. although she isn't talked about much donyale has shaped modern modelling, and her silent legacy is still carried on.

[sillygoblinantics]

I just saw Anthony do fifty women out of Lily’s ten women characters list. I also saw Lily using ocs on her list so ima jump the gun and add my top ten female ocs; with commentary in the form of alternate text to provide insight into them.

Gobbo’s top ten women characters (oc edition)

10. Guinevere

Guinevere, the older sister of Ceridwen the current Onmphar of Morbay. Guinevere would’ve been the Onmphar if not for her great grandmother who wasn’t the nicest and actively sabotaged their lives. But this didn’t stop Guinevere from being her little sisters advisor and mentor. She’s able to not just see the visages of the departed but the image of someone once there or on a different plane of reality. She used this to stay in contact with their father after he was put under a procedure by the great grandmother that made him a zombie husk. She bottled her pain and struggles until an incident changed things.

9. Naomi

Naomi was once a human but was brought back by an unknown forger who tried to make a muse without the proper trainer. She’d learn to live in this realm she never knew of before but would quickly grow to love it as it allowed her more flexibility than she could’ve imagined having as a human. She’d marry into a polygamous relationship with a voltic gaiaus named DiAngelo (himbo retriever man) and Hawke (intersex nonbinary, bean). She will carry both her spouses and is a force to be reconned with at PTA meetings. She’s got the patience and constitution of a patron saint but the bite and fight of a hyena.

8. Annalise Ravencroft-Jay

Annalise is a fairly young elem, her mother is from the states while her father is from the elem world equivalent to Romania. She’s a dreamweaver elem and she and her mother create very special webs that resemble dreamcatchers, these webs when hung above the heads of someone’s bed with form beads made of the dreams and nightmares of whoever sleeps under them, but it doesn’t end there as they can be viewed on the catcher when interacted with. Annalise also helps her father with his bookstore that also provides informational literature for those who aren’t initiated with their elem background. I forgot to mention she was born in the late 19th century and is still alive today, her husband is a year and few months younger than her and is around too. Hehe

7. Glenda Teca Gunderson

Glenda, a hummingbird inspired light/forger elem with a radiant smile and bubbly personality. She’s also the newest ambassador and head of weather cultivation for her homeland, being essentially South America. She may have gotten a crush on the ambassador for the north eastern areas who’s triple her height and started dating in “private”… ok that actually happened and they’ve been married for a long time now and have two kids. She’s sweeter than sugar.

6. Constance “Connie” Galahad

Connie is a strong powerful woman who wears a poker face well to lower guards of men or anyone who thinks they can take advantage of not just her but her girls (other women who were kept in a brothel by an awful elem). She can produce a toxin and antitoxin that will act faster than what is known or drawn out. Yes she’s killed a man before and yes it was her pimp, we aren’t dancing around the truth here. She would effectively become somewhat of a mafia boss for the small town the brothel was in and ensure it would become a safe haven for those who are seeking sanctuary and a halfway home.

I love her she can step on me

5. Adelaide Hurley

Adelaide, based in a black and trumpet swan. Her fathers gave her the world and encouraged her dream of dancing for the world. She’d travel with a performance group from town to town gracefully moving across the stage like a winter breeze carrying the snow. She was entranced with the music and would find her way to her husband who was bewitched by her ballet. She struggled for a long time to have kids but her first son was the world to her. She wears a heart of pure gold on her sleeve and doesn’t hide her true feelings and emotions.

4. Grendel’s mom (my version of her)

She’s a scaleless draconic who walks like fog very poise and careful. Tho many retelling paint her as a dangerous mother of monsters, she’s no more human than you or I despite being an elem. she’ll do everything she can to ensure her son’s safety even if it means letting a man sleep with her and take her wealth. Jokes on that man, she’ll steal his wife and please her more than he could. She’s got big ol Owl Lady energy.

3. Diantha Gratia II

Diantha is a queen, literally, she’s calm reserved and holds so much love for her people and family. She’s been married four times, her first two husbands sadly dying doing selfless acts to protect someone or multiple elems. She’s smart and out of the previous rulers of her land she’s made the most impact with her negotiation and alliances due in part to being mom friends with many of the allies (they would all meet up to let their kids play and have brunch, they’re very good friends too and will talk about their spouses and what’s going on in such a genuine way). Diantha wont go down easily and crumble like a flower she’s stubborn and threatening when she needs to. She’s a floras serpent who’s not afraid to spit venom (literally) at those who cross her or her children (she’s a mama bear who will put the fear of god in you if you hurt any of her babies).

2. Beatrice DeLacey

She’s based on an Eurasian magpie, she’s powerful and confident despite having been born with a chronic disease that eventually kills her. She plays coy and aloof to lower the guard of those she knows won’t see her strengths and will turn around and display her intelligence and wit. She’s not weak and will tower over men who try to sweep her. She’ll put them in their place.

1. Aylin Valinroy

Queen Aylin, a sharp and intimidating woman standing at 5’4” she doesn’t reveal her thoughts so easily and masks behind a cold and stern gaze. She met her first husband while preparing for her coordination but only in passing, it wouldn’t be until she was looking for a fiancé that she’d truly meet him. See, Aylin didn’t want to be courted, she wasn’t a prize and she wanted her future husband or wife or partner to know that she wasn’t weak and dainty; so she has her suitors challenge her to a duel. Lucian (first husband) was a semi decorated soldier/guard who was the only one who could match her ending up having to call a draw via a stalemate lasting two days. They were still engaged when while out on a diplomatic matter, Lucian was ambushed and killed while Aylin was pregnant (elem gestation is a topic for later uh ye. Dreamscapers are like kangaroos in being able to pause theirs while it doesn’t affect the embryo)• a war later in the middle of the night an unexpected attack would take place on Amaterasu. Instead of running away and escaping as her staff pleaded with her, Aylin while still in her nightgown dawned pieces of her fiancé’s armor and grab her rapier to fight and evacuate any staff who was still stuck inside. She would encounter the supposed organizer of the attack (the attack is a right of passage ceremony for a certain group of elems, this one is a naming ceremony that will officially acknowledge and welcome the one who’s doing it). They would end up clashing and having back and forth banter that Aylin and this stranger were enjoying ending up in the greenhouse where for the first time Aylin was bested by someone. The stranger realized that he was fighting and about to not just take one life but two and he couldn’t handle it-

shit I started sperging about Aylin and Koray’s love story! My bad

Oki that’s my list took maybe an hour to write but it was fun! Hopefully it sparked yalls interest in my series lite life more 👀