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t-a-a-1 · 19 days ago

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The Darkest Hour

Ch.4: Guardian

Summary: After being labeled as crazy for trying to report that robot aliens exist on national television, you lose your job and move to Jasper City. In a drastic turn of fate, you meet Optimus Prime. You and Team Prime get together to find ancient relics that are vital to the Autobot's cause.

Along the way, you and Optimus start to develop feelings that go beyond comradeship.

But what happens when he discovers you've been lying all of this time?

For a better reading experience you can read this story on Ao3:

>>>

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60642838/chapters/157365316

Ch.4: Guardians

It was rather quiet at the base. Ratchet sometimes would look at the hangar's elevated floor. He thought he would see you there. He didn't find you as annoying as other humans. You were rather curious. Asking about all things Cybertronian. It was like talking to a child sometimes but he didn't mind explaining especially when you had questions about Cybertronian biology.

He didn't want to admit it but he-

Beep. Beep.

"Oh? I got a video from (Y/n)!"

Ratchet hears Jack exclaim from the sofa and this immediately gets his attention.

"I don't have enough time. I have been abducted by Decepticons. I'll lead them to the relic located in Fingal's Cave, Northern Ireland two days from now. Retrieve my cell phone from my house. I am sorry."

You didn't have time.

You rapidly click 'sent' before breaking your laptop in half. You know they were coming for you and as soon as you heard the doors open, you quickly grabbed one cigarette.

Two Decepticons dragged you across the Nemesis. You couldn't walk a lot, probably due to a broken bone or something else.

It took about three minutes to reach another door. Everything looked the same except for a few purple colors and other doors that had guards.

One of the doors opened and the two Decepticons pushed you inside, making fall to the floor.

"What is our status with the machine?"

"We still need to make modifications. The human mind is different from that of a Cybertronian," Knockout tried his best to figure out a way to make his machinery work. "Getting into her memories will be difficult without the proper materials."

"Then I trust that you will be making progress soon, Knockout."

The lights in the room blinded you. Not because they were too bright but due that you were deprived of light for two days.

Two Decepticons carried you by the arms, you were too weak to walk, your stomach hurts, your head too and your energy was low.

"Prisoner was seen scavenging on the vault."

"I was looking for food!" you muster all the strength you had to defend yourself. "I've been here for two days and haven't eaten a thing."

"Wasn't the Energon cup I left on your cell enough?"

The Decepticon was an automobile that you found a bit strange but you didn't have the right mind to question it. Things were just the way they were.

"Humans don't eat Energon, I'll die! Shouldn't you be smart enough to know that?"

A taller figure walks in front of you. His steps made the entire floor move but you had gotten used to the feeling of it. He studies you, walks around you and his optics pierce through your soul.

"The fact that you are still standing after yesterday's event is admirable. I wouldn't expect anything less from Optimus' pet."

You didn't like the sound of that but you were too tired to fight it. Your body is in pain from all the bruises and maybe a few other injuries. They had beat you up after you refused to speak. It wasn't for a long time, Megatron seemed to know that you would be a difficult one.

"What were you looking for in the vault?"

Megatron asks and you don't say a word. You look away.

"I won't ask again," he gets closer to your face. So close that you could see his optics and the mechanics behind it. There wasn't a single thing that didn't move as small as it seemed. Everything had a function and it fascinated you. "What were you looking for in the vault? Was it your bag? Anything of importance in there?"

You took a few seconds to respond and you raised a hand. You slowly opened it, putting one cigarette in front of his face.

"What is this ... artifact?"

Megatron takes the cigarette in his hand, inspecting it.

"I was looking for my bag ... because I wanted that. It makes me less hungry."

The Decepticon leader drops the cigarette on the floor and steps on it. Crushing your hopes.

"Pain may not be enough to make you speak," Megatron keeps looking at you and as much as you would like to keep the eye-staring contest, you struggle to keep your eyes open.

"But let's wait and see how you react after hunger takes over you."

"I won't talk."

It hurts to even do so.

"Oh, but all of this would be so much easier if you did," he turns around and walks towards a berth. One that is not completely functional. At least it doesn't work with humans. Yet. "Regardless, we'll get what we want. Talk or do not talk, the choice is yours."

...

It has been a couple of days since you had left the base. It has been quiet around here without you. The kids can be a bit nosey but nothing the Autobots couldn't handle.

Optimus wonders what you would do if you were here. Would you be on your laptop? Maybe have a conversation with him? If you wanted, he could talk to you for hours, giving you information about Cybertronian culture. In exchange, he could ask you about human traditions. After the talk you two had about the human process of creating life, he was particularly curious about the human body.

He had just come back from patrol duty with Bumblebee when he heard a lot of talking between his Autobot friends.

"Optimus!"

Ratchet's preoccupied voice was something he wasn't fond of. It could mean two things. One, someone had messed up with one of his experiments. Two, bad news.

"(Y/N) has been captured by the Decepticons!"

Or three. Horrible news.

....

Bombs. Guns. Granades.

Screams. Fire. Blood. Pain.

When you were told that you were going to report on the war in a faraway land, you were excited. This was going to be your big step. The thing that will mark your career forever.

And it did mark you. Forever. But in ways you thought unimaginable.

It wasn't until you saw men, women and children being killed that you truly realized how stupid the world really is. It's a war and no one ever wins. So why? Why?

"Will I ever stop ... being so useless?"

Another day of not eating.

You didn't know when you were going to start to hallucinate. Maybe you already were. You wished you could smell the outside air. You had not realized how different the air is when the majority of living creatures occupying the area are alien robots. It's a different type of smell. Clean and sanitized, kinda like the smell of a hospital but with a more metal element to it.

The doors from your prison cell open. You are thankful because you hated the dark. Not really a phobia but many thoughts cross your mind when there is no light around you.

Megatron slowly makes his way towards you.

He is not that intimidating. Are you afraid? Yes, of course. But if you had to compare, Optimus had a more menacing frame. Although Megatron's eyes could frighten anyone, the way he moves and presents himself does not imply any harm. You won't underestimate him. Not a bit.

"I won't say a word."

You say as you look at him. You sat in a corner, nothing was tying you down. Not like it matters, it's not like you could do much against giant robots.

"I did not come here for that," his voice is way less intimidating. In different circumstances, Optimus could very well have been the villain. "I have come for a small conversation."

"If you think you can manipulate me into talking-"

"I would rather like to call it ... convincing you with words."

You knew this was going to be an interesting conversation.

"Words are powerful."

You say as he stands in front of you. You don't stand up, having a nice view of his posture. You can tell so much by the way someone moves.

"Agreed."

You wait for a few seconds, keeping eye contact. The room didn't look so dark now as Megatron had this purple aura that surrounded him.

You didn't know what he wanted but you were waiting for him to speak. But he was also studying you, trying to find the best way to talk to you.

"Eons ago, I was a young gladiator trying to survive."

Out of everything, you didn't imagine Megatron to be a storyteller. Oh, but how much you loved a good tale. Especially the ones about myths and legends of great warriors doing the impossible. Even if it's a story about a bot becoming a destroyer of worlds.

"Every day, as I exited the pit after killing comrades, I would watch the upper classes cheer for me."

He seems to remember the cheers, the chanting crowds. But his optics had changed, for a second, he was lost. Going back to those moments. There is some fear in them and you didn't know if he was being honest or it's another manipulation tactic.

"But what was there to cheer for? I had massacred Cybertronians. Someone like me and them."

You didn't doubt his words. At least there is some truth to them, you could tell as much.

"I would kill as I watched them eat the best kind of Energon. Drink the rarest of oils and wear the highest of tech accessories."

Megatron gets closer to you but he never kneels. He still believes he is above you. It's comical. Telling you stories about the inequality he suffered when there will never be a time he will see you as equal.

"Do you know what that feels like? Being tortured if you failed? Your spinal cord breaking and have no spare parts to repair it? While I see others throw parts into the pit, like their lives meant nothing."

Rage. He is filled with it. Finally, an emotion you could sympathize with or at least recognize. You didn't break eye contact nor were afraid. If he wanted to kill you, he had done so a very long time ago. You are more curious and in awe at the being in front of you.

His metal was damaged and scratched, his tall figure and spiky demeanor. He appears to be fierce, he had to be, otherwise he wouldn't be here. But you can't help and wonder if he had been allowed a different life, would he be different?

"I don't fight for freedom," Megatron says. "I fight for my survival."

You sigh heavily and your eyes show nothing but exhaustion. You muster the strength to speak. You can't give him anything but your sympathy.

"... You must be so tired."

You must be hallucinating because for a moment you could have sworn you saw something else in those red eyes.

Megatron turns around, no longer allowing you to see his face.

"Optimus was just like those Cybertronians I hated and he continues to be one. The system I fight to break, he continues to fight to repair it."

He steals a glance your way and he notices your concern.

"He was part of the crowd. Enjoying every match, every death. Laughing as it happened. How did you think we met?"

He walks back towards you but you notice his steps have become slower. The floor didn't tremble as much as if he was being careful without knowing.

"Oh? Didn't he tell you?"

You part your sight away from his. After a heavy sigh, you take up the courage to look at him again.

"We've been looking for ancient Cybertronian relics," you don't have another option. You had to sacrifice a little bit of truth to survive. "We don't know their function yet but we believe that they might be parts of something bigger."

"And do you know the location of these relics?"

"Just of one, the rest of the information is on my cellphone."

He seems to be interested now or rather atypical about your wording. He probably doesn't know certain terminology.

"And where is this cellphone you speak of?"

You muster a smile. You know Megatron can be a great negotiator, but so are you.

"If you want to know, I'll have my bag. With my cigarettes."

....

Fingal's Cave, Northern Ireland.

The night is dark and full of mysteries. Especially in dark caves where the waves of the sea clash against the rocks. It would have been a perfect vacation, had you not been kidnapped by evil alien robots. This might be nothing for them, maybe just a nice bubble bath. But to you? It's a certain death. You don't even know how to swim.

You stand next to Megatron. Behind you, there are a few warrior Decepticons. It was cold and humid and your intrusive thoughts made you want to jump into the crazed waves.

"The relic should be right there," you point to one of the walls and Megatron quickly looks at his army. It took only one look for them to know what they were supposed to do. Excavate.

You waited for a few seconds and noticed how fast they were putting away rocks and dust. Soon they will reach the relic and once they have what they want they will take you back to the Nemesis.

Suddenly, a green moving circle appears on the other side of the cave. You are a bit relieved. For a moment you genuinely thought they wouldn't appear.

It's the first time you see a ground bridge. It's beautiful and even more the aliens coming out from it. Tall, big, strong. Everything you weren't and for a moment you feel guilty. They shouldn't be here. They shouldn't be worrying about an insignificant life such as yours.

"Took you all long enough."

Optimus stands in front of his team. A battle mask covers half of his face, he looks fierce. You had never seen him like this before. He was intimidating and you were a bit scared of what he could do.

"Let (y/n) go, Megatron."

"Did you bring her cell phone?"

A shiver runs down your spine. You look up at him and he looks at you. Your eyes and his optics meet for a second. Unable to control your confusion, your voice betrayed you. With Megatron, showing emotion is a fatal mistake.

"What? How do you-"

"Nothing happens in the Nemesis without me knowing. Or do you think I was careless enough to leave your cell-door open?" his voice resonates within the containment of the cave. Not even the waves crashing could subside his voice. "I wanted you to contact them so they could do all the work for me."

"I am sure you must have led them to other relics. If they want you, they must turn them in as well."

You began to panic, your plan was crumbling. It was your fault for believing you could outsmart a million-years living creature.

"It's not true! They don't have them, I never-"

"We have one."

If looks could kill, your eyes would have killed Optimus. In fact, the Autobots have two relics. Optimus is lying and although a part of you is glad to know he could lie, right now you wish he had stayed quiet.

"Then you know what you must do."

Megatron suddenly picks you up, putting you a few meters above the water level.

You didn't know what to say. There was no guarantee that after receiving the relic, Megatron would let you go safely. Most importantly, you didn't understand. Why would the Autobots risk losing a valuable item over a human? There were many of you and only a few of those artifacts.

Optimus doesn't hesitate and uses his comm-link. Speaking clearly, he calls Ratchet, ordering him to bring one relic through the ground bridge.

Meanwhile, you see the Decepticons work on obtaining the other relic. They must be close as their excavation has become slower, maybe due that they do not want to damage the relic.

You try to find a way to break free but Megatron's grasp is too strong. Your body has started giving up, you haven't eaten in four days and your mouth tastes like cigarettes.

After a few tense minutes, Ratchet comes from the groundbridge, holding the white pot that contained the relic. You instinctively move your head from side to side. You didn't want to be the reason they lost it.

"Starscream, retrieve the relic and the cell phone."

You didn't notice the Commander before. Your senses must be failing you by now. He passes by Megatron and you know that if he could, he would push the leader of the Decepticons into the water.

"My pleasure, my liege."

And as he passes by, you can see Ratchet's disappointed face. All of their faces, as a matter of fact. You hated being useless and being used. You thought that staying quiet was the best option. But after seeing Optimus hand down your cell phone to Starscream and his cocky smile, you couldn't have it.

"Just go!" you scream, hoping that your voice is loud enough. "I'll figure it out! You don't have to do this!"

But it's like they weren't paying attention. Like your opinion didn't matter at all. Like you were a liability that had to be taken care of, not listened to.

Ratchet hesitantly gives the white ceramic pot to Starscream who aggressively takes it in his claws. He happily walks back to his Master as if he had finished completing the hardest of missions.

"You have what you wanted. Now let her go!"

Optimus threatens Megatron but it only amuses him. He looks at you, taking a few seconds to appreciate your face one last time.

"Lord Megatron, we have retrieved this place's relic."

Starscream says as the army of Decepticons had successfully extracted the artifact and that's everything Megatron needed to hear.

"A deal it's a deal," Megatron crossed optics with Optimus. "But this is for lying."

He opens his claws, letting you go and dropping you into the wild waves.

Megatron watches as Optimus jumps to save you. A selfless act, very much like him. What he was doing for you, he would do for anyone else. But there was something about it. Something that Megatron knew would catch Optimu's attention. Whatever it was, he would figure it out eventually. For now, he will let Prime have you. To let him enjoy his human pet as much as he can. Before taking you away.

"Next time, bring me all the relics you have, Prime. Or she will pay the price."

Bulkhead, Arcee and Bumblebee didn't even hesitate to go after him. They focused on helping Optimus and it was too late regardless. Megatron was already one step inside the groundbrige, ready to go back to the Nemesis.

"How did you know they had more relics?" Starscream walks behind Megatron, curious about his actions.

"I didn't," he says. "It's all a bet. Besides ..."

Megatron stops walking and quickly glances back. Getting a glimpse of Optimus coming out of the water, holding your fragile body.

"She's not half bad."

....

The first thing that crossed your mind after waking up was ... work.

Fowler told you to not worry about it and that things had been taken care of.

You didn't want to ask any further.

Especially after learning that you could no longer go back to your home.

It took you a couple of days to recover.

Falling into the wild waters of Fingal's Cave had done more injuries than the ones the Decepticons inflicted on you. Your body crashed a few times into rocks before Optimus rescued you.

But the pain in your body did not compare to the disappointment you feel.

You couldn't even look at the Autobots without feeling ashamed.

Now you can't even go home now.

"I apologize as for you now have to remain here. But it must be in your best interest to stay since the Decepticons know of your home location."

You didn't hear Optimus come through the rooftop door. Even with his massive steps and weight. Maybe you had gotten used to the sound of walking bots too fast.

"You may not be too fond of sharing a home but I promise you we are not too loud."

The top of the hangar gave you the best view of the Nevada desert. With sad rocks and a few cacti... alright maybe it wasn't that visually appealing.

But the night sky made up for it.

"I don't do good with people ... and bots," you pull out a cigarette from your jacket's pocket and light it up. Hearing Optimus coming closer and sitting down on the cliff with you.

You immediately move away for a few centimeters, feeling uncomfortable at the closeness. You didn't notice your body had acted this way but Optimus did.

"I can sense some hostility emitting from you."

Optimus optics lay on you but you wouldn't spare him a look.

"Optimus was just like those Cybertronians I hated and he continues to be one. The system I fight to break, he continues to fight to repair it."

You didn't know if you should bring up the matter or just keep it to yourself. But after the events at the Nemesis, you find yourself unable to look at Optimus the same. Not like it matters much, but deep down, a part of you wanted to trust him ... to believe in him.

"If there are any concerns-"

"Megatron told me," you interrupt him, the act feels disrespectful but you hope he didn't feel like that. "That you used to enjoy watching him fight and kill others in the gladiator's pits. That you fight to bring the caste system back."

"While is true that I used to attend such activities, I never supported it," subconsciously, Optimus wanted you to look at him. He needed your acknowledgment, something you refused to give him at the moment.

"Megatron and I used to share similar ideologies. But he believed that equality could only be obtained if the other classes were eliminated."

"And you?"

"I believe that every sentient being has the ability to change."

You let out a subsided laugh, looking down at your lap and then up again at the desert night.

"So what? You were hoping to change a whole social class with pretty words and inspiring speeches?"

"We cannot build a new world founded on violence."

"And where has that led you? To a strange planet and your race almost extinct."

He had good sentiments, you admired that but at some point you consider naivety to be stupidity.

"Cybertron will be rebuilt on tragedy," you say.

"And what am I supposed to do? Let him have his way?"

You have noticed that Optimus speaks less formally when he finds himself in a tough spot. Now, it was one of those moments. Your words had hit a circuit but you didn't want for this to turn into an argument. Not when you wanted to gain his sympathy.

"I am not saying I know what's best. What I am saying is that I thought you..."

You couldn't continue with your sentence. Because what you wanted to say was stupid and based on old ideas. Maybe deep down, you wished Optimus was that hero the world needed. But he was a leader. The leader of a war where there is no winner. He could only do what he did best. And that was making the hard decisions no one else could.

You had put too much expectations on his shoulders. He can't be a hero and a leader at the same time. If he were to be a hero, he would have been dead long ago. But his team needed him alive, he couldn't afford to die a martyr. He must know that.

"Listen to me Prime," you called him by his first name. Now more than ever, you believe there will never be a time when you will call him by his first name. "Everyone is a slave to something. Even you are enslaved to your own stupid ideologies of hope."

You were always precausious to never show your beliefs. Maybe years ago, you shared similar sentiments as Optimus. You saw yourself in him and you wanted to save him. Save him from the disappointment of the real truth of your world.

"But let me tell you this; you have those views because you lived through better times. You have tasted peace and solemnity," you had no stand to be lecturing him. Yet, you didn't see it that way. You were just speaking your feelings.

"But them? Working as miners, being gladiators just for your entertainment? They never had what you did. This is their hope to have better times."

You sigh heavily and feel your lungs struggle to breathe.

"And you just took that from them."

Seconds turned into minutes and you thought Optimus would stand up and leave you alone. But he instinctively got closer to you. He probably didn't notice his actions.

"I used to really enjoy watching your old reports."

The leader of the Autobots looks back fondly at the younger version of you. A few years back you had done a story about a small town that had been struck by a tornado. Many died and homes were destroyed.

But instead of focusing on the downside of things, you talked about how the community came together to help each other build back their town. The resilience and strength. Optimus was inspired by how such small things could build things bigger than themselves.

"Even when the report was about a catastrophic event, you always ended things positively."

"In the days where I had doubts, where I thought I couldn't do this anymore, I ... "

He pauses, he can't understand the feeling in his spark but his voice box struggles to process words.

"I would watch you on TV and you would give me inspiration to continue my mission."

His formality had dropped drastically and you wonder if this was his way to let his guard down and open up to you.

"But now that you are telling me this ... I think you are right," his voice cracks and your world crumbles. "What is left worth fighting for?"

You didn't know Optimus could feel doubt and hesitancy. You are reminded of the power of words. How you, a small insignificant human could make a robot full of wisdom question the truth of his life? It was too much power and you didn't want it. You didn't want Optimus to view life the way you do. So pessimistic, so gloomy.

You didn't believe in any of it, hope, love. None of that was enough to change the world. But Optimus didn't have to know that.

You wanted him to keep believing. To belive he could change the world with just words.

Fuck the truth.

"Megatron is full of rage," you say. "And sometimes rage allows us to live. To survive."

You decide to overstep boundaries and you put a hand over his servo. But you don't look at him, too shy to do so.

"But faith does too."

You were no one to question his beliefs. If you were completely honest, you would like to keep enjoying the company of this Optimus. The optimistic one, resilient, strong with unbreakable morals.

But in the back of your mind, the question still remains. There's no victory without sacrifice.

What if to win the war, to give meaning to the lives of fallen ones, he has to sacrifice his ideologies and beliefs?

What would you do ... Optimus?

"(Y/n)," Optimus calls your name so sweetly you feel your body shake up a little.

He holds your hand, so delicately, so softly as if he is afraid of hurting you. As if he is afraid you might break. You had never been held so fondly, your heart feels like melting.

"I have failed miserably in protecting you," He looks at your body and you feel like his optics pierce through your soul. You feel seen but you didn't mind it one bit. "The injuries in your body are proof of it."

"I am aware we are strangers to titles but I would like to establish a new relationship."

You didn't understand how he could make you feel in such a way. In a state of warmth and peace. How his presence alone was enough to comfort and heal wounds that go beyond physical pain.

"If you accept me as your guardian, I'll protect you and no harm shall ever find your way. I'll give my life for you if necessary. I'll do as you ask and have your safety as one of my purposes for living. Under these stars as a witness, I swear this to you."

Like the stars above, there were many mysteries you didn't understand. You thought that maybe Optimus was one of those mysteries as well. Otherwise, you didn't understand how such a beautiful creature would ever put your life above his own. Does he see you as a bothersome being? Probably. But you don't mind. A part of you wanted to be protected by such a powerful creature. A righteous one at least. Maybe he does see you as a pet to be taken care of.

But now that you think about it ... You don't mind devoting yourself to him either.

"I accept but under one condition," you wish you could be closer to his face, you feel a need to look closer at his optics. "If you protect me ... then I'll take care of you."

"Care for me?"

"If you ever have doubts, if you feel lonely, or if you just want to talk," all of a sudden you feel shy and you quickly part your sight. You didn't have the time to think the reason why. "I want to share the burden of your decisions with you, please."

"You will do that for me?"

He blinks multiple times, unsure of your words and you find this cute.

"You are willing to give up on your life for me," you make a small pause before continuing. "It's the least I can do."

Looking at a desert wasn't fun. But talking always was. Especially with an alien robot with millions of years' worth of wisdom. It's strange how you always felt better after talking to Optimus. He doesn't seem to be the type to judge and that's what you appreciated the most about him.

"(Y/N), You have proven to be more than meets the eye," you hear his voice closer and immediately turn. He had slouched significantly to be able to see you face to face. It must be an uncomfortable position but he still made the effort to see you at an eye level.

Maybe he also had a certain need to be as close as possible to you.

"I am glad the universe allowed us to encounter."

And before you could have the time to blush again, your brain replayed his words.

"Don't you mean optic? You guys don't have eyes."

Optimus straightens his back, no longer looking at you. This time he looks up at the sky, he looks curiously at them. Putting a servo on his chin, he looks to be in deep thought.

"That is true. But that is an ancient saying of my people."

"If it's an ancient saying then can we assume your kind and mine have met before?" You tilted your head, imagining the possibilities. You move your feet into a yoga position, feeling more comfortable.

"That is an interesting theory although I don't remember reading such things back at the archives. Maybe it's something worth investigating."

Optimus also thought of the possibilities, maybe this could be tied to the relics.

"Oh! Do you want to investigate it together?" this could be an important piece to your report. It would also be more credible if you had an actual Transformer help you write on what is probably one of the greatest discoveries in human history.

"We could write a report on it and give an informative presentation to the kids and the Autobots."

You put your hands up and them move them slowly in a parting motion.

"Cybertron and Earth: A Deeper Look Into Cybertronian-Human Relations and Why Our History Is Longer Than We Think."

The topic sounded more interesting to Optimus and the archivist in him started to show. You knew this by the way he would blink more often. It happened whenever something excited him.

"That sounds like a remarkable and revolutionary subject. I could try to look into Cybertron's' old archives and see if I can find something related to the topic."

If Optimus could always be excited like this, you wish you could hear him talk forever. Could he tell you all the stories and tales of his people. But would it hurt him to speak about them? To reminiscence the past may open old wounds and you didn't want to be the cause of it. You won't push it but you'll wait until he is ready.

"And I'll interview Fowler and see if he knows something or knows someone that knows more of the topic." That will be a challenge but there hasn't being a single person who never gave you an interview. Of course, you find your way. Ethical or not, it didn't matter as long as the truth was revealed.

"I am looking forward to hearing about your findings."

"I am excited to look at your research too!"

That night you learned many things. About Optimus especially. About how he would blink a lot whenever something got him excited. About how he loses his formality in words when he gets comfortable, excited or angry. Things like this made him feel closer to you as if he wasn't from an alien race but rather just another living creature existing in the same universe. And that's exactly what it was.

One hour turned into two, then three, four. Time passed by so fast, just talking and enjoying each other company. You smoked a few cigarettes and promised Optimus to buy a few gallons of oil for him to enjoy next time.

Although you were still downhearted for being unable to return to your home, you tried to look at the bright side of things. It was something you weren't used to do. But being with Optimus, his optimism rubbed off on you.

You two talked endlessly until you fell asleep on his servos. Optimus watched the sunrise; grateful to have met you, thinking how beautiful it was to love the ordinary. For at least, and with all the certainty in the universe he knew ... he was worthy of this.

A/N: This chapter took longer than I expected and I think after this one I am going to work on another fic (from another fandom) because I am so close to finishing that story and I just haven't uploaded in sometime. But! I'll be writing one shots for tumblr. I'll start working on a one shot for Christmas! The poll is over and we have a winner. Thank you to everyone who voted and all the comments, notes and likes. I'll take my time to respond to each of you :) My inbox is always open for any comment, ideas, concerns or prompts ideas.

I definitely want for Reader and Optimus to have chemistry. I think it's very important to show interaction with each other and show why they are attracted instead of them just having them fall randomly? Like I want to show Optimus and Reader have similar interest and passions but having contrasting ideas. I'll probably have them dancing and being silly together at some point.

On the next chapter I'll have Reader do some actual work. She's gonna be undercover (she has to dress seductively to fit into the world of car racing where she meets a hot mechanic who teaches her a lot about cars and Optimus has to follow her around cause that's his job as his guardian. His circuits go crazy cause he can't understand why all of a sudden he finds a human attractive-)

I want Optimus to feel like he has something of his own, something only he can protect and take care of because he can and wants (by choice) and it's not forced upon him nor a responsibility to bear (like the matrix) and that lovely thing being you ofc.

Sorry for an errors and grammar mistakes, I don't proof read.

I also feel like I haven't used much of the other bots so I'll make sure to use them more often now if the plot requires it.

I think that's all for now. Thank you so much for reading and see you in the next chapter!

Previous Chapter:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/768513873838030848/the-darkest-hour?source=share

Next Chapter: Soon

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alpaca-clouds · 1 year ago

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Understanding Princess Mononoke

People on twitter have asked me to write this up, after speaking just a bit about it on the bird plattform.

So, recently I rewatched Princess Mononoke and talked about it with a friend, who is Japanese with a degree in Japanese history. And I think some of it was rather interesting.

Some of you might already know this. But others might not. So just endulge me for a moment.

Let me start with Ashitaka. The movie does mention that he is Emishi - but many people are not aware, what this means.

See, Japan had quite a lot of indigenous cultures (I will talk more about those tomorrow). Most might know the Ainu, as they are still around today. Fewer might know about the Ryukyuan people of Okinawa, who are also still around. But there are several indigenous people, who have once lived in Japan, but whose culture hence had become instinct. The Emishi are one of them. They lived in Northern Honshu and their culture disappeared around the 10th century.

The movie, of course, takes place in the late 14th century, which is why the monk notes, that he knows what Ashitaka is, but will keep it secret. The idea is that Ashtakas little village had stayed secret to avoid being destroyed. As such Ashitaka has a different relation to the nature and the nature spirits than the other characters of the movie, who are to engrossed in the mainly Buddhist culture.

Another thing that has to be addressed is Iron Town and Lady Eboshi's people. According to the official Japanese material to the movie, Lady Eboshi once was a prostitute herself, who happened to get power by getting taken to China. Which is why she is in possession of the Chinese gun technology. She then decided to use that to allow herself power - but not entirely out of selfish reasons. Because she, of course, takes in untouchables. Japan, to this day, has an untouchable caste. Which are people who work certain "dirty" jobs or sicknesses. Most of the women in Iron Town are prostitutes who Eboshi had bought free from their brothels. And she wants to have a town where those people can live good lives.

Because of this she has to hope for the support of the Emperor, as the Samurai lords in the surrounding areas do not want her there.

Which brings me to the finale and killing the god. Here is a thing that you have to understand of Japanese history. The original indigenous people of Japan believed in nature spirits, that at times were actually gods. Especially mountain gods. As Buddhism spread (again, something I will talk about more tomorrow) the upper class went out to kill the gods.

Old Japanese history will talk about people killing gods in the same way, as we talk about St. Patrick and the snakes of Ireland. As if it has really happened.

And that is something that Eboshi tries to do. It is killing the old god, but more than that: killing the old culture.

One of the central conflicts the movie shows is, that the nature spirits are loosing their self-awareness. That they revert to normal animals. Because the indigenous culture that revered the nature spirits is fading away.

Which then is, why Ashitaka, who comes from one of those indigenous cultures, is the main character of the movie. Because he still has this connection to the nature spirit, that the other people have lost.

Yes, the movie is very solarpunk in hindsight. But it also understands what it means to loose connection to nature.

And I find that really beautiful.

#anime #anime movie #ghibli #studio ghibli #princess mononoke #solarpunk #indigenous peoples #nature #japanese history

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aimeedaisies · 10 months ago

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HRH Princess Anne talks about her new Rustler 44 yacht and love of sailing in Scotland

Article from Yachting World, published 4th December 2014

Elaine Bunting asks Royal Princess Anne and her husband Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence which are their favourite Scottish cruising grounds when they sail their Rustler 44 Ballochbuie.

Scotland is no easy cruising ground. The weather can change quickly. Reaching the more distant islands requires a certain toughness as well as skill, especially if sailing double-handed, as The Princess Royal Princess Anne and her husband Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence usually do aboard their new Rustler 44 Ballochbuie. This is ‘black run’ cruising.

Their favourite places are the more remote islands and anchorages. “To be honest, if we get north of Ardnamurchan it suddenly feels different, and if you go north of Skye other boats almost disappear, and although there are some based up at Ullapool and Stornoway, they are rare,” says Princess Anne.

Asked about some of the places they like to visit, they first mention the island of Coll. “We’ve got some friends who live there,” says Sir Tim, adding: “though is not the most hospitable and the anchorages there are a little bit variable.”

“But it is pretty impressive at certain times of the year,” adds Princess Anne, “particularly up at the northern end, the Cairns of Coll. The northern end is rocky and the southern end is a bit more agricultural and there are lots of geese in the winter. Actually, winter is probably more entertaining – you get snipe and woodcock as well.”

At the mention of anchorages, Sir Tim gets up and goes below to Ballochbuie’s navigation table to retrieve a document that runs to several pages of A4 paper. This is a list of all the places he and Princess Anne have been to during their years of sailing the two Rustlers.

It is a very impressive and comprehensive list stretching from Rathlin Island off the north coast of Northern Ireland as far north as Cape Wrath at the north-western tip of Scotland. The scores of anchorages are carefully listed and account for some challenging pilotage and difficult nooks and crannies. But they seem to enjoy exploring new – and preferably out of the way – spots.

“We haven’t kept a record of how many miles we’ve sailed, but we have kept a record of the anchorages,” says Sir Tim, to which the Princess adds: “Every trip we added one anchorage we hadn’t been to before, at least, and usually two or three. Even if you are going over the same ground there are still places to be found, though fish farms are a bit of a menace. There are places we used to anchor in Bloodhound that you can’t get to now.”

The wildlife and sea life are something they both mention. “We see quite a lot of basking sharks, particularly between Coll and Tiree,” says Princess Anne. “Once I lost count at about 25. That was extraordinary.”

Princess Anne recalls: “We had a rough three days on the way from the Sound of Harris down to Lochboisdale [on South Uist] and saw a big pod of dolphins, which was just extraordinary. They were coming at you from the top of the waves. They didn’t quite jump over the top of the boat, but they looked like they were going to.”

Royal favourites

Lewis: the lochs on the east side are great. There are quite a few places to anchor in Loch Roag.

Shiant Islands: we’ve been there a couple of times in Blue Doublet and a couple of times on [the cruise ship] Hebridean Princess with The Queen.

Loch Ewe: we had an interesting time in fog as thick as I’ve ever known it. There is a wonderful garden to see here as well.

Hermitray: there are some nice anchorages in the Sound of Harris, but lots of fish farms around.

Rona: a favourite spot. One of the most sheltered anchorages on the west coast. A very nice man, Bill Cowie, is the warden.

Skye: we’ve been all round Skye. There are lots more places to visit. We’ve only been to 12 anchorages there!

Eriskay: there’s a fantastic little anchorage here. We went there for the first time in Ballochbuie.

Barra: a marvellous place and a wonderful escape from the world.

Vatersay: good shelter in the lee of a sandbar. We anchored near Vatersay in company with Britannia one year.

Canna, Rum, Eigg and Muck: we enjoy visiting all these islands.

Loch Nevis and Loch Awe: both are lovely places.

Loch Moidart: beautiful, but we’ve only been there once. It has quite a scary entrance, not easy in a long-keel boat and you’re always battling the wind to get out.

Mull: Loch Mingary, Bunessan, the Bull Hole and Ardlanish. A beautiful little spot with shelter on the south side of the Ross of Mull. Carsaig is a little notch you wouldn’t think you could get into or get any shelter at all, but there’s a little reef offshore you can tuck behind.

Lismore: the island in Loch Linnhe. Walking there you get the most beautiful views and you can see as far as Ben Nevis.

Loch Feochan: there is a little place right at the entrance that is great.

Garvellach Islands: lovely, but weather- dependent so it has to be very calm.

Loch Craignish: Goat Island is one of the safest anchorages on the west coast of Scotland, as long as you are able to wash off your anchor; it has the stickiest mud.

Jura: we have visited anchorages all round the coast.

Rathlin Island: fascinating, a bit shallow and we bounced off the bottom there.

#sharing this because it’s a favourite of mine 😍🥰#scotland is so magical #i would really like to visit someday #i loved reading about their favourite spots to visit 🥹#i could listen to their sailing stories all day 🥰#princess anne #princess royal #tim laurence #timothy laurence

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flo-zoinks · 4 days ago

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I hc that Sean knows a bit of Irish galeic or even fluent in it, ik now a days it's considered dying language (cough cough result colonization) if iirc it started "dying" around the 17th century

That's a good head canon!

Now forgive me if I make any mistakes on my weak knowledge of Irish history, and correct me if I do!!!

Sean says he comes from Donegal, a county north west of Ireland. However, he has a very strong Dublin accent according to some Irish natives, which is vastly different from a Donegal accent. (highlighted in words like the pronunciation of brother like "brudda" etc) Some could speculate that could mean his Da was from Dublin, but moved to Donegal before ultimately going the USA. Often children can develop the accents of their parents despite outward influences, especially if he'd moved to be with other family from Dublin in Donegal. (My brother used to have a Mexican accent in school lmfao).

We can assume for this he was born around circa 1876, and seeing as he moved young, but still old enough to have good memory of his time in Ireland he probably left circa 1892, aprx -7 or +2.

This is a map showing the concentration of Irish speakers by 1871. In Dublin, the accent is almost non-existent. However in Donegal, it's clearly very widely spoken (I've highlighted the two places). If Sean was to have a Dublin accent from his Da, you can assume his main influence, the main person he spoke to was his Father, perhaps not much to other people in comparison as his accent isn't that influenced.

(For example I'm quite widely social and when I moved to the south when I was about 6 in two weeks I lost my HEAVY northern accent for a very southern one, whilst my brother who was quite private in his words kept a mexican accent from our Mother)

So I think Sean's Da probably didn't speak Irish Gaelic in it's full fluency or maybe even at all past 2 or 3 words, so he probably couldn't of taught him. Yet I still think he learnt a lot from Donegal, being a majority spoken Irish county, and being talkative himself must've learnt quite a bit. Perhaps fluently by the time he'd left for the USA.

Thanks for talking to me I love to hear this!!! ❤what do you think? I apologise I'm not very educated on Irish Gaelic, as much as I know I should be atleast, so forgive me if I made any mistakes and please correct me!!

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption community #rdr #red dead redemption two #red dead fandom #red dead 2 #rdr2 community #sean macguire #sean rdr2 #red dead redemption sean #rdr2 fandom #rdr community #rdr fandom #red dead redemption fandom #red dead redemption

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mseirtaku · 1 year ago

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hey, super cool to find an Irish hetalia fan! I’m always on the hunt for fans from different countries; I’m always curious what they think of their respective countries’ characters. I saw from your posts that you already love Ireland’s character, but what about his relationship to Northern Ireland? And do you have a human name in mind for Ireland?

Oh hey! Thanks for approaching me about the subject, that’s always flattering~ 😙

North and Ireland… Now there’s an interesting pair that I believe deserve more interactions in the manga beyond Ireland’s debut issue.

From what we’ve seen already, Ireland is very fond of North, calling him his little buddy/partner.! Unfortunately, we see that this relationship is very one sided on Ireland’s part, as North doesn’t really reciprocate Ireland’s feelings beyond half-hearted, non-committal answers.

Surprise surprise! North ‘betrays’ Ireland by palling up with the UK bros! And Ireland is still upset about that to this day, especially with the whole Brexit deal that went on. (By the way, the scenario down below is so not a dream, Ireland's coping so hard.)

Now we move off of canon, and and go to my opinions~

While North is very standoffish to Ireland, I think he does care for him. However, he just prefers the company of the big family unity that the Brit Bros appeared to be. And quite frankly, he had a lot in common with them from the get-go.

Now this is the historical Hetalia bit lol

From the late 1500s to the early 1600s, the British attempted to establish several plantations in Ireland (move British people onto Irish land and give them land and titles to effectively make them more influential than the native Irish already living there.) Overall these were very unsuccessful, aside from one, which is the Scottish Plantation of Ulster (Ulster being the area that encompasses what Northern Ireland is now.) ((Which most likely explains why North is attached to Scotland in particular in the strips))

From then on, a visible divide in Irish culture was created, which can be seen in how Ireland and Northern Ireland interact with each other in their strips together. Fundamentally, they just can't relate to each other anymore, despite Ireland's attempts to be buddies with North again.

I think this interpretation of Ireland and North’s relationship so far makes perfect sense to me, I love how Hima wrote these two lol

The one thing I would personally headcanon is that North is much physically younger compared to the rest of the British Isle characters, like 17 years old or so, and that he only came about into existence around the time of the plantations. From that, I personally think Scotland is North's father figure (which I totally need to draw art of 🤍)

That was a lot of chatter, I could honestly write a dissertation examining the nuances in their relationship~ The names I use are these:

Ireland - Ruairí mac Cumhaill (Rory McCool in anglicised format)

North - Conor O'Neill

#hetalia #hetalia world stars #hws northern ireland #hws ireland #ask response

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elderberries-and-honey · 4 months ago

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As I understand it, the old family is abandoned and we will not see a continuation of Winifred and Lawrence?

I wouldn't say they are abandoned as much as they are just archived. I'm in the middle of finishing up my last English credit, and beginning a dental hygiene program after that which is an extremely difficult and surprisingly competitive field to get into, while also planning my wedding, and working full-time.

Playing the game for an hour or two each day, or something close to, and spending five or ten minutes editing vs spending an hour just finding poses, then writing the story, setting everything up in game, and editing in a way that satisfies me are very different energy levels.

It is my ultimate goal to be in a good headspace, with a healthy balance for leisure, studying and having financial stability, but right now, that's difficult to come by. I miss The Baudelaires every single day but their story also deserves to be told the right way, especially the more sensitive parts that require more research and figuring out how to present it in a palatable way. And again, especially when you consider that the Baudelaire's are living in, what today, is considered Northern Ireland in the early 1900's and there are significant moments in history quickly approaching that I must tell correctly and would feel wrong to just gloss over simply because I'm pressed for time and rushed through it just to get a post out.

I think it's easy for us to look at these historical events through a lens of academia and perhaps even through rose tinted glasses in some respects. But, for me at least, it feels so much deeper when you are telling it through a personal narrative perspective. For example, the suffragette movement. Yes it was a movement that gave women the right to vote but it also was extremely prejudice and by and in large excluded women of color. Yet, I rarely see that ever presented or shown in the stories written here. Now, I do understand that perhaps people feel they shouldn't share that history out of respect but I also think it's important to be honest about the fact that even the "progressive" women of the time were not all that progressive by today's standards. Or even the various wars that are coming quickly, like The Great War and the Irish Civil War. Civilians are always the ones who suffer the most when it comes to war, and again, I personally would feel wrong not showing that or mentioning it, at the very least.

But again, that also requires a lot more research on my part, while also staying true to who my characters are at their core and considering how these significant things would shape and bend their moral compasses, and impact their relationships with each other (because, spoiler, it will definitely have an affect on their interpersonal relationships within the family).

Now, that isn't to say I don't put as much love and care into the Flores Legacy because I still adore them as well or that I won't try to present these things where I can! But it is different in terms of perfectionism because of the fact that it's mostly gameplay and the game helps to steer their story in some ways whereas The Baudelaires are completely directed by me alone, if that makes any sense.

I apologize for the long rambling answer but I needed to get my point across that The Baudelaires are my babies. I have been playing them for years at this point and Winifred in particular is my favorite Sim that I have ever created in my 20 years of playing the sims franchise, and it was not an easy decision to put their story on hold. But I miss playing the game, and I miss historical simblr, so I decided to do something a little different, even if that's disappointing for some or even for myself.

Tl;Dr: they're not abandoned so much as they are just simply archived for right now.

#answered #anonymous

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pinewoodpipit · 1 year ago

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slàinte, mo ghràdh - Fic Meta

A meta post for my fluff fic, slàinte, mo ghràdh! I'll put the meta thoughts in after a cut, as usual.

The Fic's Title

The title, "slàinte, mo ghràdh", is Gaidhlig / Scottish Gaelic for "cheers, my love". I'm not a fluent Gaidhlig speaker but I am learning, and I'm really fond of it as a language. Gaidhlig is really incredibly important to our culture, especially because speaking our native Scottish languages was actually illegal here for a long time as part of an assimilation effort to "civilise" the Highlands. Very few people speak our languages here, now, but we're working hard to try and keep our languages alive. I thought this would be a nice way to include it.

Real Places

Lots of the places in this fic are real places in Edinburgh! The museum, of course, is real.

The hotel they stayed in is also real, and I even looked ahead of time to see what their rooms would look like.

The restaurant they went to get the cranachan is the Abbotsford Bar and Restaurant, since I'd read that their cranachan is good and gets recommended by Edinburgh locals. The main street is, of course, real, and the park they went to when it was snowing is The Meadows, the same place where the torch procession started.

The horse statues at the end are The Kelpies, giant horse head statues which light up at night and look incredible in the snow. They're bigger than you might think just from looking at pictures!

Foods Mentioned

Most food mentioned in this fic is real.

Rumbledethump is a real cabbage dish here, made with cabbage, potato, swede, and cheese, and you can get it in little pastries sometimes.

Cranachans are a real dessert here, and a very historical one, originally made to celebrate the autumn harvests :) they're great, although usually better when made at home rather than eaten at a restaurant.

Sticky toffee pudding is INCREDIBLE and one of the best things we've got. That sauce could heal any wounds. It's meant to come with hot sauce to drench the cake, and the ice cream melts into it. UGH I could die.

Curry stuffed naan is a real thing you can get at our Christmas markets in Edinburgh - curry is also pretty widely loved in the UK. Tikka Masala was invented here by a Bangladeshi-Scottish man, Ali Ahmed Aslam, back in the 1970s! Phall was also invented in Birmingham. The UK really likes curry.

Cock-a-leekie is a real soup here. It's just chicken and leek soup. Cullen skink is also a real meal here, and it's a thick haddock soup. Seafood and fish is very commonly eaten here, and salmon is especially good in Scotland. We do seafood right.

I disagree fundamentally with "British food sucks" jokes because honestly, I feel like people who say that haven't tried actual British food. British is not synonymous with English; Britain is a collection of several countries which includes England, and just using Scotland as an example, we have some really fantastic foods. It's sad to me to see it get written off when so much of Scottish culture has had to fight tooth and nail just to exist after centuries of assimilation efforts. Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland are all countries in our own right and our cultures - and tastes in food - exist independently from England.

Hogmanay

New Year is focused on a little more in this fic, and there's a reason for that - generally, New Year is a bigger holiday in Scotland than Christmas, and there's historical context for it. Christmas was actually made illegal here back in the 1600s, and as a result, Hogmanay (or New Year) became a large celebration in its own right. The Scots LOVE Hogmanay, and New Year celebrations in Edinburgh is a festival which lasts several days, including the torch procession (a LOT of our celebrations include fire), ceilidh, live music festivals, drinking pub nights, and fireworks etc.

The ban on Christmas was lifted about seventy years later, but Hogmanay was still a huge celebration, and it's an important part of our lives, now.

Clothes

The ugly sweaters mentioned in the fic are real.

The nicer ones are also real, and I really like them! Truly though, they're not warm enough to keep you cosy in the snow. You need a thick coat, winter boots, and probably also a hat/gloves/scarf for that. The cold here is no joke; even though the temperatures don't look that cold, Scotland is so humid and wet that it's really impossible to escape and it burrows deep. I know people who live through -20C Canadian winters with no problem but HATE wintering in Scotland because it's miserable, even if it's not that cold on paper.

Other

The reindeer plush is a reference to my freckle fic!

It's him, but reindeer flavoured.

#valorant #pipit writes #own post #queued #fadeshock #neon valorant #fade valorant #slainte mo ghradh #fic meta #fanfic

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orleans-jester · 11 months ago

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There was no question in her mind about whether or not Maddy loved Day Bastien. She preferred the nights with him where he was more physically comfortable, without the pain of the hunched back and the struggle of speaking and kissing properly. But tolerance? No. It was so much more than tolerance. But she understood. He could go out in the day now, there was no one left to stare, the inhabitants of Feral were all used to his appearance and it wasn’t startling anymore. He avoided mirrors more than people tried to avoid the plague. He thought he was ugly and that was something that would not be fixed by a hundred thousand compliments, or reassurances, or kisses upon the large cheek. It was lifelong, and she had to accept that.

Seeing him laugh was a complete and total delight. When his face got splotchy like that, when his hair seemed to come alive even more, like laughter was pumping it up. Goodness, he was cute.

“Your hair is always magnificent,” She smiled at him, because good lord was it ever. Iconic, was what it was. She may trim up his ends every so often - especially after he acts as a firebug and comes back with the ends curled and damaged - but the length stayed. The poofiness stayed. But he definitely had her laughing with the juvenile idea of lighting up farts. “You should definitely draw this up! We can make it like a storybook for Frankie.”

Well - these weren’t swan boats but they might as well have been. The same gentle rocking motion on the nearly still waters. If only she was allowed to sit on his lap, that would have been special. But no, she took his hand and used his help to get onto the boat, holding their little girl close. Of course she accepted his help. She held on tight to his hand like she was nervous about falling in, but then got situated, no letting go of him until they were all situated.

Maddy had never seen anything like this before - and she thought that she had seen a lot. On the way to their home after their wedding reception, Figaro had managed to somehow communicate with fireflies and get a bunch of them a tone location so she and Bastien could have one last dance while lit up. But there weren’t enough fireflies in New Orleans to ever see something like this. It was hard to believe that it was real. It was like Flotsam and Thomas over in Ireland seeing the Northern Lights. It was just a stunning act of nature that reminded her that the earth itself had its own magic, not like hers.

The plankton added to it all. She didn’t know where to look. Up? Down? Around and around? She wanted to take it in, but she also wanted to take in the faces of her husband, her daughter. She turned around to look at Bastien, to watch the way that he was looking at everything with such wonder. Almost childlike in his appearance. He deserved that. He didn’t have a childhood. Let him have that now. Just please, God, she prayed in her head, don’t let anything ruin this.

She leaned back against her husband now, the top of her head pressed comfortably against his cheek.

“It’s stunning,” She said, finding no other word for it in her mental dictionary. “I think this is one of the best ideas that you’ve ever had, baby.”

Seeing him laugh was a complete and total delight. When his face got splotchy like that, when his hair seemed to come alive even more, like laughter was pumping it up. Goodness, he was cute.

She leaned back against her husband now, the top of her head pressed comfortably against his cheek.

“It’s stunning,” She said, finding no other word for it in her mental dictionary. “I think this is one of the best ideas that you’ve ever had, baby.”

Day and night. Sun and moon. Bastien thought it had something to do with that tarot card, though he personally always favored the moon for obvious reasons. As slick as that fly was he never quite caught on it was for him and that probably because he actively still even now avoided the sun even though he'd learned to tolerate it as Nola learned to tolerate him. That's how he sees it. People tolerate him and his ugliness. Tolerlance is a funny feeling. Tolerance is what is taught to haters to keep them from acting out on ugliness. Tolerate what you don't like. People who believe they're tolerated don't feel acceptance. That's still heavy inside. There's a big difference in being accepted and being tolerated. That's Bastien especially in the day.

He stuck his butt out and wiggled it when she suggested his butt glowing like a real firefly. They already had this year's Halloween costume idea, but oh dear. That just implanted some visual! He laughed so much he had to cover his mouth. The skin of his face even got splotchy. He wasn't even high, but oh that was good. The Firebug was picturing himself as some cheesy comic where he wasn't actually cool and heroic, but corny and funny with a glow light on his ass. "Firebug to the rescue. My hair would be magnificent of course. A Firebug like no other! A beacon of light when he farts is his specialty skill that everyone not only ducks for cover from because it'll dissolve you alive if the light touches you, but the smell will curdle you over and bring you to your ever loving knees! BWHAHAHAHA! Then I'd never have to carry a gas can again like in real life. I should draw that. He'd only carry a hammer and lighter because that's his only super power. His light farts." Then his eyes bugged out real big. "THE LIGHTER is to LIGHT his super power farts ON FIRE. Oh my gawd. I'm a super genius, Maddy."

Of course she remembered the swan boats. She hardly needed him to say it in front of all those people or even in secret behind that unruly fluff of curls to recall. He could tell by the way her face lit up she instantly knew where his mind went.

He didn't need the perwinkle glow either, but that didn't mean he would mind if it happened to show up while they were on the water. His excitement made him chew his food a little faster as he attempted to admire the view from the river boat, but he wanted to finish and get to the smaller boats now. Excitement was starting to fill him up. Nostalgia was filling the air right and left and all over. Squareways and sideways. This way and that ways.

First things first though they had to board their little boats in the dark. This was a more of a challenge than Bastien thought. He wasn't the most balanced individual, but he managed and helped with Frankie and Maddy whether they wanted help or not. His hands were right up there in case they felt the boat shift like he did. He wasn't having his family fall overboard in this murky water. Anything could be down there. No sir.

Then out they went and low and behold it would start to happen. The twinkles. It was just one at first, then another, then the further out they went it started to expand. A guide they were following pointed and he noticed the sloshing of where their boats were moving the waters were causing the water to glow too. This was it. That was the extra special thing he thought was wild too. This plankton that lit up under them as they got aggitated. Sparkles above them. Sparkles below them. It was like twinkly magic everywhere blooming and they didn't even have to capture them first to bring them to the beach here. They were in the trees. They were in the water. They were floating around like love bugs blinking their tiny butt fairy lights. There were stars. There was just lights everywhere.

"Look Frankie."

There was a tree that was lit up like Christmas there was so many of them. Every bush and piece of foilage around them in the distance behind them was nearly the same. He'd never seen them quite that dense in the United States before. Stars above, fireflies in the bushes, and glowing plankton in the waters when they reached the shores.

The plankton was nearly their color too. That kept Bastien's inner grin nice and warm. Their boat floated out there in the middle as they were allowed to admire the view, as was the point of the whole thing. It messed with his eyes a little. He'd look this way and that as the flittery bugs blipped this way and that. Luckily, lightning bugs were actually rather slow floating bugs and not buzzy zipping around bugs. He managed to maintain quite well under it all. He moved up and put his arms around Maddy from behind.

"What do you think of that beach?"

#MaddyxBastien

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judeswhore · 3 years ago

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ok hi its me again 😅 it wasn't very specific just you're dating mason and you play for chelsea's womens team and the lionesses?? and you try to be at each others games and support each other and stuff and people think its cute? (weird maybe but I play football too and one can always dream lol)

hi bff i’m so sorry this took so long and i hope u play 4 england one day i will be rooting 4 u

his lioness - mason mount

Despite his overly busy schedule Mason always tried to make it to as many of your games as possible. It wasn't always easy, some of your games often clashed, mostly your England and his Chelsea ones but when there were gaps in either of your schedules you both made sure the other knew one hundred percent you were there for them. Seeing you play was one of Mason's all time favourite things, watching the way you lit up and came alive on the pitch made his tummy flutter and the smile you wore after a win was something he wanted to brand behind his eyelids.

Fans adored the two of you together, they loved the fact that you'd both grown up in the Chelsea Academy and had started for England at such young ages, whenever you met them they always talked about how nice it must be to have always had the other there through the years. It had become a bit of a game of sorts for a few fans who watched you play religiously, they also knew Mason had a busy schedule so would try and see which games they could spot him at, low quality photos and videos of him settled in the crowd ending up in your DMs.

It was overtly clear to everyone that nothing would ever match the support you had for each other and you had to admit you found it a little bit funny seeing fans gush if they saw either of you at the others game.

"Feeling okay?" Mason's voice was soft down the line, slightly muffled by whatever it was he was currently eating but it still helped to brush back the tension you were feeling over the impending match. You'd be on the pitch in no time and for some reason you were feeling a little more nervous than usual, hence the last minute call to your boyfriend.

"Nervous but I don't know why. It's just like any other game." You tugged anxiously at your white England shorts, trying to focus on the soft puffs of Mason's breaths.

"Night games always wrack up the tension, I think, especially if you're away but you're gonna be great, baby. Just like always." His little praise brought a soft smile to your lips and you paused where you'd been biting at the corner of your thumb.

"Wish you could be here. I've missed you." You mumbled, turning your head slightly to avoid having the lingering girls in the locker room overhear. They often teased you about Mason and how the two of you basically lived in the others back pocket and you didn't mind most of the time but you weren't really in the mood for mocking tonight. Mason let out a soft sigh down the phone and if you closed your eyes you could picture him in front of you, fingers brushing your back as he told you you'd be great.

"I wish I could be there too, sweetheart." He sounded a little off, voice slightly more high pitched than usual and you could hear him shuffling around a lot. "Next one though, yeah?" He'd tried to get tickets to the game but you were playing in Northern Ireland and he didn't have the time to fly over and fly back and still make his own training so he'd promised he'd find a stream to watch.

"Yeah." The sound of your coach shouting made you jump slightly and then you were sighing loudly, trying to shake off your nerves and channel your game adrenaline before you got out of the tunnel. "I have to go. I love you."

"I love you, too, baby. You're gonna be incredible out there, go win for me okay?"

You did win, a good 3-1 to England and your earlier nerves were completely wiped from your memory, pure elation spinning inside of you but that wasn't just from the win, it was from the fact that Mason was standing just inside the tunnel when you went to walk through. He was wearing a bright smile, body bundled up in joggers, jumper and a puffer jacket and the butterflies that swarmed your tummy seeing him again were more like an entire zoo. You ignored the congratulations from everyone else and just launched yourself at your boyfriend, knocking him back slightly with the force.

"I can't believe you're here!" Mason's hands wrapped around you and he laughed at the way you buried your face into the crook of his neck, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. "What are you doing here?"

"Cancelled training, it won't hurt. I wanted to be here for you tonight." He mumbled against your shoulder, placing your feet back down on the floor, his arms still locked around your waist. “You were amazing out there, I’m so proud of you.”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you knew you were getting teasing glances thrown your way from teammates but all you could focus on was the look Mason was sending you. His eyes were so full of love and pride and you felt giddy knowing he’d cancelled his plans to be here for you. You remembered your words to him on the phone and landed a soft punch to his arm.

“You knew I was nervous when I called you and you didn’t think to tell me you were here?” Mason’s lips tilted into a pout and he cupped your jaw, tilting your head back so he could lightly peck your mouth.

“Wanted it to be a surprise for after your win.” You narrowed your eyes slightly at him, but the only thing you felt in that moment was pure joy. It had been weeks since either of you had managed to make the others game and you still felt a little fuzzy inside over the fact he’d flown over for you, just to be able to see you for a few hours at most.

“How’d you know we were gonna win?”

“Boyfriend’s intuition.” He pressed a kiss against your forehead, grinning again from ear to ear. “Y’know watching you play is quite literally one of my absolute favourite things. You’re the best out there by miles.”

You flushed a little at his compliment and then pulled him back into a hug, your nose tucked carefully against his throat.

“You have no idea what it means having you here.” Mason pressed one hand against the back of your neck, his lips pressing another kiss down on your head as he hummed.

“Gotta support my girl as much as I can when she plays like that.”

#england nt #chelsea fc #football #football imagine #money mase #mason mount #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount fic #mason mount blurbs #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader

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spine-buster · 3 years ago

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Any chance when you come back you'll do a little blurb on all of our favorite couples and how they would do a one month European vaca??

I can do this now!!! I still have the night free lol

Morgan and Bee: Morgan brings Bee honeymoon in Italy. They start in Lake Como and then down to southern Italy so she can see the giant lemons. Sorrento, Positano, Capri etc. Their honeymoon is roughly a month so that's how they'd spend it!

Fred and Aleida: usually when Fred and Aleida go to Europe for a month or more they stay in Denmark, but there is one summer where they spend it in Spain; another year they spend it in the French Riviera; another in the Italian Riviera...Fred and Aleida are the type of people to rent a house as a base and then live like the locals, doing day trips here and there to other little towns or beaches around.

William and Aberdeen: again, usually when Willy and Aberdeen go to Europe for a month or more, they're in Sweden. However, due to Aberdeen's family's roots in Northern Ireland/Scotland, they definitely do a British Isles trip one year, spending an extended amount of time there. They start in London and work their way north before taking a ferry over to Belfast, visiting Derry, and ending off in Dublin.

Elias and Svea: their honeymoon is in Vienna and Austria -- Svea could easily spend a month somewhere like that. Svea, Elias, Brock, and Grace also island hop in Greece, especially before the Boeser Bouquet is born.

Brock and Grace: island hopping in Greece. They could easily, easily do that for an entire month.

Tyler and Tehilah: I could definitely see them island hopping in Greece too, but I also think I could see them somewhere fun like Amsterdam!

Matthew and Effie: lol.....Effie. Oh Effie. She wants to do the off-the-beaten-path things in Europe. She would take a month-long Norwegian fjord cruise and see the midnight sun (which she and Matthew do). She would want to visit Belgium for an entire month (which she and Matthew do). When she learns more about World War Two she wants to spend time in Northern France and visit all the cold, windy D-Day beaches (which she and Matthew do). See the theme in the brackets? Matthew indulges her with whatever she wants while all his buddies are galavanting in the hotter climates because the smile on Effie's face is better than any of that.

Jacob and Geneviève: they could easily spend a month in France, or England (especially considering Geneviève's history in those places), or of course Sweden, but surprise surprise: they also both love Switzerland!

Rasmus and Lusine: Sweden is an obvious one. They go back to Germany a lot because Lusine does really fall in love with the country after her summer abroad. They also really love having hot boy and hot girl summers in Portugal!

#answered #alone together series #morgan and briony canon #the storm before the calm series #fred and aleida canon #the president wears prada series #william and aberdeen canon #the space series #elias and svea canon #peaceful easy feeling series #brock and grace canon #good things come... series #tyler and tehilah canon #patience is a virtue series #matthew and effie canon #structures series #jacob and genevieve canon #meant just for you series #rasmus and lusine canon

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booklindworm · 3 years ago

Text

A rant against Karen Traviss' understanding of history and her FAQ answers

Did you base the Mandalorians on the Spartans?

<cite> No. I didn't. </cite> Fair enough.

<cite> I really wish history was taught properly - okay, taught at all - in schools these days, because history is the big storehouse that I plunder for fiction. It breaks my heart to hear from young readers who have no concept even of recent history - the last fifty years - and so can't see the parallels in my books. You don't have to be a historian to read my novels, but you'll get a lot more out of them if you explore history just a little more. Watch a history channel. Read a few books. Visit some museums. Because history is not "then" - it's "now." Everything we experience today is the product of what's happened before. </cite> Yeah, I do to. Please, Ms Traviss, go on, read some books. Might do you some good. And don't just trust the history channels. Their ideas about fact-checking differ wildly.

<cite> But back to Mandos. Not every military society is based on Sparta, strange as that may seem. In fact, the Mandos don't have much in common with the real Spartans at all. </cite> You mean apart from the absolute obsession with the military ["Agoge" by Stephen Hodkinson], fearsome reputation ["A Historical Commentary on Thucydides" by David Cartwright], their general-king ["Sparta" by Marcus Niebuhr Tod], the fact that they practically acted as mercenaries (like Clearch/Κλέαρχος), or the hyper-confidence ("the city is well-fortified that has a wall of men instead of brick" [Plutarch, Life of Lycurgus])...

<cite> A slightly anarchic, non-centralized, fightin' people? Sounded pretty Celtic to me. Since I went down that path, I've learned more about the Celts (especially the Picts), and the more I learn, the more I realise what a dead ringer for Mandos they are. But more of how that happened later... </cite>

The Celtic people are more than one people, more than one culture. Celtic is a language-family! In the last millennium BC nearly every European ethnic group was in some ways Celtic, and they were not one. Later, after the Germanic tribes (also not one people, or a singular group) moved westwards, the Celtic cultures were still counted in the hundreds. Not only Scotland was Celtic! Nearly all of Western Europe was (apart from the Greek and Phoenician settlers on the Mediterranean coasts). The word “Celts” was written down for the first time by Greek authors who later also used the word “Galatians”. The Romans called these people “Gauls”, and this word was used to describe a specific area, bordered by the Atlantic Ocean, the Cévennes and the Rhine: “Gaul”. So the Celts, the Galatians and the Gauls were all part of the same Celtic civilisation. "Celts, a name applied by ancient writers to a population group occupying lands mainly north of the Mediterranean region from Galicia in the west to Galatia in the east [] Their unity is recognizable by common speech and common artistic traditions" [Waldman & Mason 2006] Mirobrigenses qui Celtici cognominantur. Pliny the Elder, The Natural History; example: C(AIUS) PORCIUS SEVERUS MIROBRIGEN(SIS) CELT(ICUS) -> not just one culture "Their tribes and groups eventually ranged from the British Isles and northern Spain to as far east as Transylvania, the Black Sea coasts, and Galatia in Anatolia and were in part absorbed into the Roman Empire as Britons, Gauls, Boii, Galatians, and Celtiberians. Linguistically they survive in the modern Celtic speakers of Ireland, Highland Scotland, the Isle of Man, Wales, and Brittany." [Celtic Culture: a historical encyclopedia. by John Koch] "[] the individual CELTIC COUNTRIES and their languages, []" James, Simon (1999). The Atlantic Celts – Ancient People Or Modern Invention. University of Wisconsin Press. "All Gaul is divided into three parts, one of which the Belgae live, another in which the Aquitani live, and the third are those who in their own tongue are called Celtae, in our language Galli." [Julius Caesar, De Bello Gallico] <= I had to translate that in school. It's tedious political propaganda. Read also the Comentarii and maybe the paper "Caesar's perception of Gallic social structures" that can be found in "Celtic Chiefdom, Celtic State," Cambridge University Press. The Celtic tribes and nations were diverse. They were pretty organized, with an academic system, roads, trade, and laws. They were not anarchic in any way. They were not warriors - they were mostly farmers. The Celts were first and foremost farmers and livestock breeders

The basic economy of the Celts was mixed farming, and, except in times of unrest, single farmsteads were usual. Owing to the wide variations in terrain and climate, cattle raising was more important than cereal cultivation in some regions.

Suetonius addressing his legionaries said "They are not soldiers—they're not even properly equipped. We've beaten them before." [not entirely sure, but I think that was in Tacitus' Annals]

Regarding the Picts, in particular, which part of their history is "anarchic"? Dál Riata? the Kingdom of Alba? Or are you referring to the warriors that inspired the Hadrian's Wall? Because no one really knows in our days who the fuck they were. The Picts’ name first appears in 297 AD. That is later. <cite> Celts are a good fit with the kind of indomitable, you-can't-kill-'em-off vibe of the Mandos. Reviled by Rome as ignorant savages with no culture or science, and only fit for slaughter or conquest, the Celts were in fact much more civilized than Rome even by modern standards. </cite> That's how the Romans looked at pretty much every culture that wasn't Greek, Roman, Phoenician, Egyptian, or from Mesopotamia (read, if you want, anything Roman or Greek about the Skyths, the Huns, Vandals, Garamantes...).

<cite> They also kicked Roman arse on the battlefield, and were very hard to keep in line, so Rome did what all lying, greedy superpowers do when challenged: they demonized and dehumanized the enemy. (They still used them in their army, of course, but that's only to be expected.) </cite> They were hard to keep in line, but they most definitely did not kick Roman arse on the battlefield. Roman arse was kicked along the borders of the Roman Empire, such as the Rhine, the Danube, the Atlas mountains, etc. And mostly by actually badly organized, slightly anarchic groups, such as the Goths or the Huns (BTW the Huns were not a Germanic people, even though early 20th century British propaganda likes to say so). Though they were also decisively stopped by the Parthians. Who were very organized. Ah well. <cite> While Rome was still leaving its unwanted babies to die on rubbish dumps - a perfectly acceptable form of family planning to this "civilisation" - and keeping women as chattels devoid of rights, the barbarian Celts had a long-standing legal system that not only gave women what we would think of as equal rights, but also protected the rights of the elderly, children, and the disabled. They had a road network across Europe and worldwide trade long before the Romans ever got their act together. And their science - well, their astronomical calculations were so sophisticated that it takes computers to do the same stuff today. </cite> See? You even say yourself that they weren't actually anarchic. Also you're not completely right: 1. women (of most Celtic cultures, with one notable exception being the Irish) were not allowed to become druids, e.g. scientists, physicians, priests, or any other kind of academics, so they did not have equal rights. Also, as in other Indo-European systems, the family was patriarchal. 2. the roads they had were more like paths, and did not span the entirety of Europe; the old roads that are still in use are nearly all of them Roman. Had the Celtic inhabitants of Gallia or Britannia built comparable roads, why would the Romans have invested in building a new system on top? 3. world-wide? Yeah, right. They traded with those who traded with others and so were able to trade with most of southern Eurasia and northern Africa, as well as few northern parts (Balticum, Rus), but that's (surprise) not the whole world. 4. most people use computers for those calculations you mention because its easier. It's not necessary. I can do those calculations - give me some time to study astronomy (I'm a math major, not physics) and some pencils and paper. 5. and - I nearly forgot - the kids didn't die. That was a polite fiction. The harsh truth is that most Roman slaves were Romans... <cite> So - not barbarians. Just a threat to the empire, a culture that wouldn't let the Pax Romana roll over it without a fight. (Except the French tribes, who did roll over, and were regarded by the Germanic Celts [...]) </cite> WTF Germanic Celts? What are you smoking, woman? Isn't it enough that you put every culture speaking a language from the Celtic family in one pot and act as if they were one people, now you have to mix in a different language-family as well? Shall we continue that trend? What about the Mongolian Celts, are they, too, proof that the Celts were badass warriors? I think at this point I just lost all leftover trust in your so-called knowledge. <cite> [...] as being as bad as the Romans. Suck on that, Asterix... </cite> Asterix was definitely a Celt, and unlike the British Celts, he was not a citizen of the Roman Empire.

<cite> Broad brush-stroke time; Celts were not a centralized society but more a network of townships and tribes, a loose alliance of clans who had their own internal spats, but when faced with some uppity outsider would come together to drive off the common threat. </cite> They might have tried, but they didn't. The first and only time a Celtic people really managed to drive off some uppity outsider would be 1922 following the Anglo-Irish Treaty of 1921*. The fact that France, Spain, Portugal speak Romance languages and the British (or Irish) Isles nearly uniformly speak English should be proof enough.

*Unless you count Asterix. <cite> You couldn't defeat them by cutting off the head. There was no head to cut off. </cite> You mean unlike Boudica and Vercingetorix. Oh wait. Tacitus, in his Annals, said that Boudica's last fight cost 80,000 Britons and 400 Romans their lives. He was probably exaggerating. But it definitely stopped much of the British resistance in its tracks. <cite> To the centralized, formal, rather bureaucratic Romans, for whom the city of Rome was the focus of the whole empire, this was a big does-not-compute. The Celts were everything they didn't understand. And we fear what we don't understand, and we kill what we fear. </cite> While that is totally true, it's also completely off the mark. The Romans demonized the druids, not every Celt, and they were afraid of what was basically an academic network. That had nothing to do with war. <cite> Anyway, Mandos....once I took a single concept - in this case, the idea of clans that operated on a loose alliance system, like the Celts - the rest grew organically. I didn't plan it out in detail from the start. </cite> That's really obvious. Maybe looking at some numbers and remembering that you weren't planning a small, local, rural, medieval community would have helped, too. I mean lets have a look at, say, Scotland (since you specifically mentioned the Picts): they still have less than 6 mio. people all together, and that's today. Mandalore is a sector. A sector of Outer Space with at least 2000 inhabited planets. How do you think that translates? It doesn't. <cite> I just asked myself what a culture of nomadic warriors would value, how they would need to operate to survive, and it all grew inexorably by logical steps. The fact that Mandos ended up as very much like the Celts is proof that the technique of evolving a character or species - find the niche, then work out what fits it - works every time. It creates something very realistic, because that's how real people and real societies develop. </cite> Celtic people were usually not nomadic! And, once again, non of them were predominantly warriors! It's really hard to be a nomadic farmer. I believe the biggest mistake you made, Ms Traviss, is mixing up the Iron Age (and earlier) tribes that did indeed sack Rome and parts of Greece, and that one day would become the people the Romans conquered. And apart from the Picts they really were conquered. <cite> So all I can say about Mandos and Spartans is that the average Mando would probably tell a Spartan to go and put some clothes on, and stop looking like such a big jessie. </cite>

I'd really like to see a Mando – or anyone – wearing full plate without modern or Star Wars technology in Greece. Happy heatstroke. There is a reason they didn't wear a lot (look up the Battle of Hattîn, where crusaders who didn't wear full helmets and wore chainmail* still suffered badly from heat exhaustion). [Nicolle, David (1993), Hattin 1187: Saladin's Greatest Victory] *chainmail apparently can work like a heatsink CONCLUSION You're wrong. And I felt offended by your FAQ answers. QUESTION You're English. You're from England. A group - a nation - that was historically so warlike and so successful that by now we all speak English. A nation that definitely kicked arse against any Celtic nation trying to go against them (until 1921, and they really tried anyway). A nation that had arguably the largest Empire in history. A nation that still is barbaric and warlike enough that a lost football game has people honestly fearing for their lives.

Also, a Germanic group, since you seem to have trouble keeping language-families and cultures apart. If we were to talk about the family, we could add on the current most aggressively attacking nation (USA) plus the former most aggressively attacking nations (the second and third German Reich), also the people who killed off the Roman Empire for good (the Goths and Visigoth), the original berserkers (the Vikings) and claim at the very least the start of BOTH WORLD WARS. Why did you look further?

Some other sources:

Histoire de la vie privée by Georges Duby and Philippe Ariès, the first book (about the antiquity) I read it translated, my French is ... bad to non-existent

The Day of the Barbarians: The Battle That Led to the Fall of the Roman Empire (about the Huns) by Alessandro Barbero

If you speak Dutch or German, you might try

Helmut Birkhan: Kelten. Versuch einer Gesamtdarstellung ihrer Kultur, Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, Wien

Janssens, Ugo, De Oude Belgen. Geschiedenis, leefgewoontes, mythe en werkelijkheid van de Keltische stammen. Uitgeverij The House of Books

DISCLAIMER

I’m angry and I wrote this down in one session and thus probably made some mistakes. I’m sorry. Or maybe I’m not sorry. I’m still angry. She can’t know who reads her FAQ and at least two of her answers (on her professional website) were offensive to the reader.

#history #england #scotland #ancient celts #roman empire #mandalorians #sparta #proud warrior race #shitty research #rant #me ranting #fuck this #karen traviss

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brian-in-finance · 3 years ago

Text

The actor stops by Little Gold Men to talk about bringing Pa to life and navigating the topic of fame with his own kids.

ROB YOUNGSON / FOCUS FEATURES

In Belfast, writer-director Kenneth Branagh’s black-and-white ode to his childhood, a young boy named Buddy (Jude Hill) escapes from his often-turbulent reality via movies. One day it’s the splashy musical Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, the next it’s the classic Western High Noon. It becomes clear that Buddy idolizes Jamie Dornan’s Pa as his own version of a strapping movie star, despite his all-too human faults.

Dornan says he, too, worshipped his father and would project his own dreams onto high-profile stars. “For me, growing up, it was anyone who’s from Belfast or from the North of Ireland, who is doing well in movies,” the actor tells V.F.’s Katey Rich. “The idea that you came from that place and could be in movies, was crazy to me. Still is, to be honest.”

Northern Ireland’s own Liam Neeson would become Dornan’s matinee idol. “I remember I was probably more in my teens, early teens when Liam had really become a big star,” he remembers. “He’s obviously a huge star, almost in a different realm now with what he’s done in the last 15 years with his work.” Dornan has hit his own stride in Hollywood, even scoring a recent best-supporting-actor Golden Globe nomination. He talks about his homegrown role—and that singing scene—on this week’s episode of Little Gold Men.

Video 📹 in link (too long to screenrecord)

Elsewhere on LGM, Katey joins hosts Richard Lawson, Rebecca Ford, and David Canfield for spirited analysis of the Screen Actors Guild Award nominations, including all of the biggest snubs and surprises. They also recap the madcap Golden Globes and discuss Sidney Poitier’s indelible legacy.

Give a listen to the episode above, and find Little Gold Men on Apple Podcasts or anywhere else you get your podcasts. You can also sign up to text with us at Subtext—we’d love to hear from you.

Vanity Fair: You’ve said when on set, you’d ask Kenneth Branagh, “What would your father have done? What was this moment like?” And it didn’t feel like he was prescribing to you what the character was, it felt like guidance. How did he strike that balance, that you felt empowered with that information and not trapped?

Jamie Dornan: It was very much him feeling like he was telling me whatever information I was seeking from him. He’d be like, “Use that how you will. Absorb that in whatever way you need it to work for you, but as long as Jamie’s instinctually doing what you wanted to do anyway, then I’m happy.” Because he was just, right from the beginning of Belfast, instilling this idea in me, and all of us really, that he wanted us to bring our own vibe to it, and we should not be trying to be some carbon copy of an idea of who his parents were.

The reality was, of course we’re playing real people, but it is a version of them and it’s not like where you’re playing a real person who’s very famous, and you can mimic them, and copy their physicality, and their movements, and their tone of voice. That’s not what we’re dealing with, so it was easier just to find a freedom to bring what we instinctually thought was right for these characters.

The “Everlasting Love” scene is heightened, but it’s not especially a fantasy sequence. It cuts to Jude Hill, so you know it’s through his eyes, but how real it is has been unclear to me the whole time. I’m curious if you guys had decided for yourselves how realistic it was and if that was important in playing it?

Well, you see, I think there’s a lot happening there. There’s a lot on the physicality of the day and the practicality of that day, having all those different players in the room. It was everyone except Ciarán [Hinds], for obvious reasons. Having us all in that room was an amazing feeling, but we had a lot of work to do. At that time, I hadn’t recorded my vocal, so I’m lip syncing, which is trickier than people think it is, [then] the dance moves, which are very tricky if you have two left feet like me. So, there are all the technical things you’re having to think about, no matter how much work you’ve done, they are occupying space in your head.

But really at the core of all that, is the emotional stuff that's going on and the story telling is massively crucial. The release of what’s just gone on, just burying your father and the release of that, then trying to celebrate his life in that moment. But also, where Ma and Pa are, their relationship at the time is massive. It’s really fractured. They’re sort of on the brink there, so there’s so much conveyance of that through the looks between Caitríona [Balfe] and I. I’m basically trying to say, “We are really up against it here and we are being tested, but guess what? I love you and it’s okay. We’re going to be fine. We’re going to get through this.”

ROB YOUNGSON / FOCUS FEATURES

I was really struck re-watching it, about how movies are threaded into this film. The family goes to see the movies, but then the whole confrontation has the theme song from High Noon playing in the background. I wonder if you watched Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, or High Noon, or if you and Kenneth Branagh talked about how this boy is imagining his dad as this John Wayne-worthy figure?

Yeah, we did talk about that a bit. Again, it comes back to that sort of idealistic way of seeing his parents, almost seeing them as these matinee idols that were heroic to him. He had them on such a pedestal and that’s kind of the way he saw John Wayne and him and his brother saw these actors in movies.

I remember thinking my dad was the strongest man in the world, when I was a kid. He certainly wasn’t, but just that idea you have of your parents, if you’re lucky enough to have a good relationship with your parents and see them that way. You give them this sort of heightened sense of super power, almost. I think that is something that Ken, when he was a kid, got from the movies and applied to his own people in his life, including his parents. And I’ve watched Chitty Chitty Bang Bang a lot, I really have in my life. It was a big player in our youth when I was a kid. I’ve actually shown it to our two eldest kids.

Do you feel strongly about what [your kids] know about fame? Do you feel like that's something you have to really navigate for them?

Yeah, a bit. We’ve [Dornan and his wife, film composer Amelia Warner] made a choice in their very early formative years to live right in the middle of nowhere. We live in the countryside. There’s no paparazzi. We’re not going to any parties or fancy dinners, where we’re getting our photograph taken. We’re pretty much out of the limelight, for the most part, and we like it that way. Probably harder here, when we’re in LA.

I was with our five-year-old yesterday and a girl came up and wanted to chat and a photograph. After, my daughter turned around and was like, “Do you know her?” I was like, “I don’t know her.” She’s like, “Why did she want to talk to you?” I said, “I don’t know. Some people know that daddy’s an actor and I’m in movies and on TV sometimes. Some people like the stuff I do, and they see me, and recognize me, and want to chat. It’s nothing more than that.” My daughter was like, “Oh, that’s nice. They’re basically saying that they like you.” There’s an innocence to it all, I guess, at this stage.

Remember… we are really up against it here and we are being tested, but guess what? I love you and it’s okay. We’re going to be fine. We’re going to get through this. — Jamie Dornan

#Tait rhymes with hat #Good times #BelfastMovie #Interview #Vanity Fair #14 January 2022 #Belfast #Worldwide 2022 #Apple Podcasts

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sirfluffig · 3 years ago

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The Ceccere Manor

Ceccere Manor is a pompous baronial building in the region of the southern Scottish Ayr. The manor itself is found in the more northern surroundings of the county and built out of tailored marble bricks which are ivory-white in colour. Characteristic for this beautiful building is the romanesque style which was used to design the manor's outer walls. Reaching almost three stories tall, the manor is covered in beautiful long and round arches as well as steadfast yet fine pillars made from clean stone. Over the time being, the house may have changed its owner a lot of times, but never its state of condition, not a single crack can be found in this magically altered works of masonry ever since it was first declared finished in the 19th century.

The walls of the magnificent building are covered in curtained windows, set deeply into the stone and therefore making them look almost sunken into the hard surface. They are additionally shown off with exquisite frames, providing proof for the wealth that this family is said to own. Astoundingly each of the upper chambers seem to be built with a broad glass facade, most of which are looking right into the courtyard of the house. This especially applies for the room of Flavio himself which is the one facing the entrance of the estate on the most left hand side of the building. The clear glass front though, is often darkened by the curtains that hang over it.

Adding onto that, the manor stretches wide across the hill it was built on and is gabled a few times, creating elegant niches in the walls which can easily be used to provide space for activities that have to be done outside. The Cecceres might not be a folk of adventurers or sportsmen, but they sure made the best they could out of this extra space. So looking around the house you can find a broad patio, covering the ground in fine stone plates, on which multiple tables were placed. They can be used for the most varying of activities. May it be a celebration with barbecue in the evening, where you dine outside and watch the stars reveal themselves slowly, while soft lights fill the garden and slow music embraces the attendants, inviting them to dance, hand in hand - face to face. Or maybe you could invite the neighbours for a game evening, layering out cards and enjoying the coziness as the still wind breezes over the estate.

One of these long tables that reside on the stones in front of the curtained panorama wall with a broad sliding door even has a chess board integrated into its plate and is flanked by two rather big armchairs. It's seemingly the most used of all tables, mostly because the entire family Ceccere uses to play chess competition games together on internal game nights, one of the highlights of the weeks for family reunions or holidays at which Flavio and Lexanna are home. Especially then, these games provide a challenge for parents and children alike. Sadly their former champion, Logan isn't there to defend his title anymore but this will hopefully turn for the better soon.

Going further around the brick walls, you will find a small and yet somehow charming gravel-path, which is accompanied by small lanterns on fence-posts every couple feet ahead of you. The thin path is meant to guide you through a rather magical compartment of the enormous garden and leads you forward to see a few of the best pieces of masonry that the Cecceres have to offer. While these small statues shaped like different creatures or people, aren't as magnificent as the two monstrous sculptures of Owls that can be found at the entrance to the courtyard, they do have a bit of a magical flair themselves. The knowledgeable history-lover will quickly notice that the statues seem to be inspired by the Romans and are almost exact replicates of the works that countless slaves put their life into, in the roman era.

Guiding one to the back of the estate reveals a rather large area plated in clean stone. While keeping its romanesque aesthetic, this part of the property appears a little more modern, than what is shown to the passersby. Next to a big sliding door made of enchanted glass in the back wall is a small shelf for shoes and slippers, things deemed rather unnecessary when entering the exquisite pool, adorned with pillars made from high skilled masonries, that is spread across a majority of the plot. The only things flanking it are a couple of extravagant sun loungers and parasols which have the Cecere Crest embedded on their shield.

Leading away from the walled manor of the Cecceres and deeper into the dark and dense forest, is a small paved way , the only light provided comes from small enchanted lanterns which are placed loosely along the way, creating a very mysterious and magical atmosphere. Before one realizes, the path widens and turns into a garden-like area, with all sorts of plants growing on the floor, climbing their way up the trees, spreading colour across the place. Between trees and flowers are countless stone statues of people that have passed within the last 100 years. It's the Cecere’s memorial grove, a place where members of the Ceccere family honour their fallen friends and loved ones. Because once you have achieved friendship with a Ceccere, they are loyal till the end and beyond. After the second wizarding war, one could find statues of people like Tonks and Lupin there, commissioned and placed there by Flavio himself.

While romanesque building style wasn't that common in the 19th century, it was asked by the commissioners to set the flame of this very poetic and smooth style ablaze once more. It is said that the two lovers that gave the order to build it, were a young couple from Ireland. A noble man, who was more a boy than a man and a house maid of his estate, fleeing together from the former's father, a man who went furious about the betrayal of his own flesh and blood. They were hiding in the very house the Cecceres inhabit, living to the end of their heavenly days, hidden from the wrathful Irish noble.

#Flavio Ceccere #Lexanna Ceccere #Logan Ceccere #HPHM #hogwarts mystery #jacobs sibling #hphm mc #ceccere family #ceccere manor

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alexbkrieger13 · 3 years ago

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What team do you think impressed during the international breaks. Did any make their case for the euros?

I've had sitting in the drafts

Personally was impressed with England defensively especially compared to this time last year when they were leaking goal after goal.

While the finishing was shocking and I have questions about the midfeild I think they were for large parts more solid defensively than they have been in a long while. Euros wise its good momentum but I still think for England getting over the Semi final hump should be the main goal.

France attacking is good to watch they have some fantastic talented but again defensively they leak goals and there parts of their midfield I think can let them down.

Norway are a team with some top class players however not enough of them are defenders. They had some good moments bit they're gonna need Maren and CGH ready to go

Denmark-wasn't super impress with the team of babies and Simone. Little to see from that 1 game

Italy-could play spoiler on their day but I think against a defensively disciplined team they can struggle

Swizerland-Depth not great (they need Lia Wälti) but they rested a lot of players so hard to tell

Ireland-played well at times do have a solid chance at 2nd in qualifying as long as the don't shoot themselves in the foot

Northern Ireland-did well at times only watch 1 game of there's so can't assess much

Sweden-experiments in defence aged me at times but they're available depth was good considering they were missing and not starting a lot of their first team players

Spain-think we all know different team than barca but still a very good ball playing team but finishing and lack of depth and rotation could be their achillies heal. Midfield is really the engine of the team going forward and defensively and when scattered dose show some issues. If they are not gassed if they reach the knockouts I'll be suprised

Germany-really hard to tell considering the squad but they are a team definitely in transition. Euros getting out of the group what this pont should be seen as the main aim

Netherland-missing a lot of players but with who they had you would have hoped they could have done better. Impressed by the baby dutchies in the Finland game. Sari is gonna take years off my life

USWNT-eh they played decent but it's hard to pin point how well they are actually played. Great to see less experienced players get minutes and give minutes to up and coming players. Times really gonna tell with this lot

Canada-if they can sort out the finishing and find a way to have 2 Quinns in midfeild and not have Jessie fleming playing every outfield roal except CB and GK. Full backs for Canada are great to watch though can be a bit iffy defensively at times.

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songtoyou · 4 years ago

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Tempting Fate - Part Seven

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Nothing major. Mention of smoking cannabis.

Word Count: 2,025

Story Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone.

A/N: Please don’t hate me.

Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission.

Tag List: @owenniasstars

Tommy didn’t ask you to walk with him to the canal to meet up with Curly. You didn’t ask to come along. As Tommy said, this was something he needed to do by himself. However, it wouldn’t mean that you weren’t going to worry about him until he safely returned.

One thing you still have trouble contemplating was how much your relationship with Tommy had changed in such a short amount of time. The man used to ignore you to now having sex with you regularly. It was such a fast switch of behavior that you didn’t quite know where it came from. Whenever Tommy was around, you never gave this view much thought or interest, mostly because you were so preoccupied with Tommy that he took up a lot of your attention.

Now with him gone, it allowed you room and time to think things through if Tommy was, in fact, “the one” or not. However, you could not deny your feelings for the man that continued to grow each day you were with him. Tommy made your heart flutter that no other man had been able to accomplish.

You didn’t have too much time to think things over as Esme had arrived with the kids. You let them inside while finished making the lunch packs for the trip.

The kids rallied around you, yelping and begging for treats. “Oi! Settle down, or we won’t be going to no fair!” Esme yelled to the kids, who immediately quieted down.

You laughed while pulling out a tin with biscuits and gave each child a piece. “You lot are lucky she spoils all of you,” Esme said, pointing to each child. “So, I guess Tommy told you to be on your best behavior and not make trouble?” asked Esme, and when you nodded your head, she scoffed. “The same spiel John gave me. Those men have a lot of nerve telling us not to get into trouble.”

“Oh, trust me, then know. It won’t stop them from doing it. Okay, I think I have everything we need. We can head out. Johnny Dogs said he would meet us outside of The Garrison,” you instructed and handed one of the kids the basket with the lunch packs and other items for the road.

The ride to the fair went by fast, thanks to Johnny telling stories the entire way. You could tell Johnny was a good guy. He was a loyal friend to Tommy and appeared to get along with everyone. Johnny appeared not to be a part of one clan but multiple clans. He had the ability to integrate from one to another.

Born in Northern Ireland to a family of Irish travelers, John had befriended Tommy when they were younger. It was only when Tommy, Arthur, and John headed off to France during the War that he joined the Lee gang. You were surprised to find out that it was Johnny who presided over John and Esme’s wedding. You were equally surprised to find out that Esme and John's marriage was not a love marriage. It was arranged by Tommy and the Lees to bring both families together as they were close to being in a war with one another. All in all, you liked the man.

The wagon came to a sudden halt. “We are here!” exclaimed Johnny excitedly.

You looked out to see other wagons all lined up with people spread out in the field. There was music already being played, children running around happily, and the smell of food was exquisite. This is what you had been missing while being in Small Heath. The freedom that comes with traveling, not having to answer to anyone, living off the land, and making do with what you have. Overall, it was the sense of community that you missed the most, of being around others like you. It was one of the reasons why you became so attached to Esme. She understood while others couldn’t. Not even Tommy could understand your feelings of homesickness or why you missed traveling. He tried, but it was not something he would ever understand.

Sometimes you got the sense that Tommy was someone who tended to downplay his roots. You knew his goal of gaining power within the upper hierarchy of British society. You knew the upper crest looked down on those with working-class backgrounds and could only imagine what they thought of those with Romani blood.

While Johnny tended to the horses, you walked around with Esme and the kids. There were fortune tellers, palm readers, stalls selling jewelry, clothing, or farming tools, and an array of other horse-related items for sale. Esme got each of the kids some food and told them to bugger off and not get into trouble.

“Fancy having your fortune told?” you teased Esme, who merely rolled her eyes.

“Charlatans, all of them. They’ll only tell you what you want to hear. I was told I would marry a man who was tall, dark, and handsome. That he would be my soulmate, my other half, all that bullshit these old birds tell ya,” Esme ranted off.

“John’s tall, blond, and handsome. You may have gotten together under the not-so-normal circumstance, but you both love each other very much. Right?”

But Esme shrugged. “So, I take it the honeymoon stage is over?” you asked her.

With a sigh, Esme turned towards you, “John, I don’t know; he doesn’t talk to me about anything. He keeps things to himself, especially with what happened during the War. He has nightmares, you know.”

“Yeah, I figured all of the Shelby brothers have their inner demons from the War. It is the same with Tommy. He doesn’t share much either, but I can’t force him. All I can do is be there for him. That is what you are going to have to do with John. The Shelby’s are an unusual bunch. One we aren’t used to or have experienced before. It is as if they have this need to better themselves and to prove that they are worthy. We don’t have that need. We are happy with what we have and where we come from. No amount of money or materialistic things are going to change who we are,” you elaborated to Esme.

She seemed to consider what you were saying. “I need a drink,” was all Esme said and linked her arm with yours.

The two of you sat under a tree with a drink in hand, sharing a plate of food and passing a joint. Esme seemed to be in a lighter mood than before, thanks to the alcohol and cannabis.

When Esme said your name, you looked over at the brunette. “What?” you asked.

“I meant to ask you this for some time. How is Tommy in bed?”

You could feel the heat on your face. Stifling a smile, you hid your face with your hand to hide your blushing. Soon, you turned into a fit of giggles.

“Come one, now!” yelled Esme smiling. “Don’t get all prudent on me! How is the King of Birmingham in the sack?”

When you were able to compose yourself, you answered, “He is amazing. I don’t know how else to describe being with him. He just…I have never felt like this with any other person. The way he knows my body. It’s like he knows what makes me tick. He knows how to bring me over the edge and back again. It’s an amazing feeling.”

“Must be nice,” was all Esme said and took a drag of the joint.

You looked over at your friend. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes. You couldn’t imagine being in her position. You wouldn’t want to be in a marriage that was arranged by your older brother only to stop a war starting between two rival families. That is bound to create a marriage of convenience rather than love. Your parents were a love match, and it showed. That is what you wanted.

Was Tommy the one for you? You didn’t know, but he was the one for you at the moment.

Thankfully, Tommy returned from London safe and sound. From what you heard from Polly, Tommy’s meeting with Alfie Solomons went well. The leader of the Jewish gang had agreed to align with the Peaky Blinders to take down Sabini. Tommy spent most of his time at Shelby Company Limited, so you didn’t see him too often. This surprised you, but you tried your best to think nothing of it. However, after the first couple of days Tommy got back home, he maintained his distance from you, especially in public.

You stopped by his office one day during your break. You wanted to check on him to see how he was doing. Spotting Lizzie at her desk, you asked if Tommy was in. Not even bothering to look at you, she said he was busy.

“Can you please tell Tommy that I need to talk to him?” you practically pleaded to Lizzie.

You understood the newly appointed secretary’s animosity towards you. She liked Tommy and hated that you had his attention. Lizzie treated Esme the same way now that John was married. You and Esme had the men Lizzie wanted or could have had.

Before you turned to leave, Tommy walked out of his office. He looked at you and waved you inside. “Ms. Stark, please don’t allow any visitors to interrupt my meeting with Ms. Young,” he ordered.

You walked into Tommy’s office, and he guided you to a chair. He asked if you wanted a drink.

“No, I can’t stay long. I only wanted to see how you were doing. I haven’t seen you much since you returned from your trip. Your bruises look like they have healed nicely,” you noted as Tommy sat down in the chair across from you.

He took a swig of his whiskey and pulled out a cigarette. You declined when he offered one to you. “Is everything okay, Tommy?” you asked him, concerned.

As Tommy rubbed his thumb across his lips, he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

“It would be best if we don’t see each other anymore,” Tommy spoke, still not looking at you.

For a second, you thought you misheard him. “What?”

Tommy gulped down the rest of his whiskey and slammed the glass on the side table. “I have other things to worry about. The Company needs to have my full attention. If I want to take over Sabini’s racecourses, then I can’t have any distractions. “

Folding your arms, you leaned back in the chair. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Distractions? So, I’m a distraction, now?” you asked in disbelief. It took all you had not to smack the man before you upside the head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m realistic,” Tommy countered and got up to walk to his desk. “This isn’t the time where I should…” he began to say but didn’t finish. It was like he was at a standstill. You could tell he didn’t believe what he was saying. That Tommy himself knew it was all bullshit. He was pushing you away so you wouldn’t get hurt.

Tommy didn’t want you to end up as a casualty in his war with Sabini. He also didn’t want someone like Campbell to use you as leverage against him. You were too much of a liability to him. If his enemies on to your connection to Tommy, then you could be used as a weakness against him.

Deciding that you had enough and didn’t want to listen to his gibberish, you got up and exited the office. Walking back to The Garrison, you told yourself not to cry that you were not going to shed one tear over a man who didn’t want you. That it was wasted energy crying over someone who was not brave enough even to be honest with you.

Tommy Shelby was a complicated man. You realized that he wasn’t the man for you in the long run. He was merely the man for you at the moment. And that moment was gone now.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

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