#apparently their ship name is fast food

[cryptic-mythos]

Y’all loved the Electraboose edit, so what do you all think of this?? ( made for @sandybobandy & @kitkatisvibing )

Gonna be cross posted on tt! As always lol

[syrupfog]

Zoro wakes up to the scratchy feeling of a note beneath his haramaki. 

“Cook’s name is Sanji. 

You fight every day. He hates you. He knows your favorite foods. You loved him. 

Hanahaki got bad again. You took the pill. 

No. of times this has happened: [a number of scribbles] 11”

The note looks like it’s been through the ringer, crumpled and bloodied. Zoro reads it, folds it up, and sticks it back in his haramaki. He assumes he’ll need it again.

The cook— Sanji— is hard to get along with. He yells at Zoro, fights with Zoro, complains about Zoro. He’s terrible. 

Living alongside him is like breathing. 

It feels so natural, slotting into place next to him. Zoro knows instantly why the disease keeps coming back. It’s hell.

Robin knows. Nami knows. Chopper doesn’t seem to, and if Usopp did then Sanji would. And Sanji doesn’t seem to know. 

Thank god Sanji doesn’t seem to know. 

It’s only a few weeks before Zoro’s coughing up petals again. Small and blue and fragile.

They’re on an island and it’s autumn and the town’s harvest festival is happening. There’s a cult or possibly just a really zealous group of farmers. Zoro doesn’t know; he got lost and ended up at an old woman’s cottage on the outskirts of town.

His theory circles back around to *cult* when he ends up prone on her floor after some apparently drugged mulled wine. She stands over him and rants about something or other— he doesn’t care what she has to say, he’s preoccupied with the way the drugs coursing through his system are making it hard to cough, and the flowers in his throat are sticking to his insides. 

It’s gross. He doesn’t cough them up so much as pukes them out. 

The old woman also thinks it’s gross. She kicks him, but she’s old. He doesn’t really feel it.

Anyway, it’s a whole thing. The problem is that the woman wants to drag him somewhere to be a sacrifice to the great pumpkin or something, but Zoro’s too heavy and she can’t move him. But when she opens the door to find a neighbour to help— 

Sanji’s there.

(Or, as Zoro has taken to calling him recently, Curly). 

(Nami told him after he started that he often ends up at that name). 

Sanji lays on the simpering to the old woman for all of about two minutes, asking if she’s seen some lost moss and then going on about her hair care. But eventually he does notice Zoro there on the floor behind her. 

Slipping around the woman, who seems to be somewhat at a loss, Sanji starts ranting to Zoro about how he shouldn’t drink so much if he’s going to puke it all up, and how he stinks now— and to be fair, Zoro’s shirt is covered in puke and wilted flower petals. But then Sanji starts pulling his shirt off of him while Zoro’s still struggling to get up, and as he does so, the note— The note slips out of his haramaki. 

And Zoro can’t grab it.

(He still can’t REALLY move, although he suspects that puking the flower petals did get some of the poison out). 

But he cant stop Sanji. His weak “fuck off, give that back” falls on deaf ears as Sanji unfolds it. Frowns at the state of it. Reads it. 

Fuck.

Then, fast as anything, Sanji stands up and punts Zoro hard enough that he flies across the room, hitting the far wall and sliding down to the floor with a grown. 

Awesome. Great. Good to know how Sanji feels.

He hears the click click of his dress shoes as Sanji hurries out. And then he’s alone with the old lady, who seems truly at a loss for what to do, but that’s okay. Zoro’s too busy coughing up whole branches to notice.

Zoro is retrieved by Robin and Usopp not too long after that. By the time they’re back at the ship he’s regained a fair amount of his mobility. Whatever was going on in town, Luffy took care of it. Or Usopp did, depending on who Zoro asked. 

It doesn’t matter.

Zoro coughs up petals and licks his wounds and starts searching for those pills. And probably it’s too early this time, but he just— 

He wants to forget this. 

He can’t find the pills, though, and he remembers too late that Sanji kept the note. He needs that.

But he’s a coward. He waits until everyone should be asleep before sneaking into the galley to see if he can find the note in the trash or something. 

He miscalculates, though, and runs straight into Sanji, smoking in the dark.

“Eleven times?” Sanji asks him, staring resolutely at the wall next to Zoro. 

“Apparently,” says Zoro. 

Sanji laughs. Humourlessly. “Can’t wait to make it a twelfth, can you?” 

“Listen,”growls Zoro. “It’s not my fault you read the fucking note. Just pretend you never found it.”

Sanji grits his teeth around his cigarette. “Is it that fucking horrible?” He asks. “The idea of having feelings for me is so fucking repulsive you’d rather rip me out of your life entirely?” 

Zoro goes to say something, but there are petals squirming their way up his throat.

He coughs, hacks, spits them into his palm. Delicate blue petals splattered with blood. “You asshole,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What, would you prefer I wallow in rejection and suffocate on a fucking plant? I don’t plan on dying here.”

Sanji goes still and quiet. 

“You hid the pills, right?” Zoro continues. “Give them back. I’m done here.” 

“No,” says Sanji. Quietly. “I— Moss, you can’t believe that.” 

“Who else would it have been?” 

“No, I mean— yeah okay, I threw your pills overboard. But that’s not—“ He swallows. “Zoro. You can’t possibly think I would reject you..?” 

Zoro scrunches up his face in confusion. “Uh, yeah,” he says. “You flirted with that old woman who drugged me. You’ll flirt with our literal enemy before even looking at me.” He blinks. “And then you threw me into a wall!” 

“I was caught off guard!” Sanji shrieks, jumping up. “Anyone would have done that after reading that note!” 

“THAT’S AN INSANE THING TO THINK!” 

“WELL MAYBE I’M A LITTLE INSANE RIGHT NOW.“ 

They’re suddenly at each others’ throats. Zoro grabs Sanji’s collar as Sanji grips his shoulders. He’s grimacing, face inches from Zoro’s, cigarette smashed on the floor. 

“You don’t get to DECIDE WHAT I THINK and then HURT YOURSELF OVER AND OVER AGAIN,” Sanji yells. 

“I’m FINE, COOK,” Zoro yells back. “I was HANDLING IT.”

And then Sanji smashes their faces together. 

It’s a terrible kiss. Someone’s nose is bleeding and Zoro thinks it’s his. He thinks Sanji’s broken it. 

Pulling back, Sanji says, “You didn’t have to handle it.” He pushes his forehead against Zoro’s. “That’s the fucking problem.”

Zoro purses his lips because his eyes are damp. “Shut up,” he says. “How was I supposed to know?” 

Sanji’s hands are still on his collar and he pulls Zoro impossibly closer. “Just. Don’t forget me again.” 

Zoro closes his eyes. “Fine,” he says. “Eleven was enough.”

[starlightshadowsworld]

My thoughts on the Amazing Digital Circus Episode 4: Fast Food Masquerade

Spoilers below

Guys I’m 48 seconds in I can’t be crying already. But Zooble giving Gangle a new happy mask 🥹

“It feels normal. In a good way” I’m glad Gangle I’m so happy for you man.

Unicorn horn?

Godamnit Cain! Well moments over I guess.

Awh I want the spoopy meat adventure. Also is it just because it’s dark or is bubble a different colour?

I dunno if we get sane Kinger again I’d love for it to be like last time.

Oh shit there’s a suggestion box.

And Gangles weirdly obsessed with being normal like that one episode of SpongeBob. Loving all the hand, well ribbon gestures though I am concerned.

That was very weird.

Kinger asking to sit out so Zooble can join is both sweet and suspicious.

Woah woah wait?! Gangle actually was a shift manager? Wait does that mean she wanted this adventurer to pretend everything was how it was?

Fucking hell that’s sad.

I am here for Gangle standing up to Jax though. Gangle and Cain was not a duo I thought I needed but I love this.

Can we…can we take Ragatha out of the deep frier?

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?!

“Caine would do anything malicious it’s not in his nature” he sent Kinger and Pomni to hell last episode sure. But why are you so sure of that Jax?

…WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS!

Yeah maybe don’t ask for that.

Well I’m crying again thanks for that.

Wait is Ragatha jealous? And off her head apparently man don’t have the pink sauce. Oh my god she is jealous.

Oh cool now Gangles losing it. Who decided it was a good idea to put Pomni on the till? Gloink Queen for the win! I love that shes a genuinely good mum.

Well there’s a new ship.

Does…Does he remember…I don’t…ow.

Not the training tapes. Oh damn Gangle girl draw the comic, make the manga…for everyone’s sake. Also the music stopping, the “why not?” Is so unsettling.

Nevermind this is the spoopy episode.

So in Fnaf you don’t sleep on the job because mini-rinas will crawl into you and make you explode. And in TADC you don’t huff paint until your designated break, got it.

I’m loving the baked Ragatha arc. Wait did Jax just call Pomni by her name? Has he ever done that before?

I felt all those muffled screams and of course the happy mask hides tears.

“You good?” Appropriate response. Yeah we need that Gangle therapy episode stat. Talk to Zooble! Talk to Zooble!

Pomni you wonderful lil clown you!

Yeah punt that mask, oh oh wow I wasn’t expecting the music video. I’m happy for you Gangle if very confused.

Also ayy callback to the beginning.

The sad mask smiled 🥹

WHAT THE FUCK?!

Wait how did Kinger get the highest grade he wasn’t even here?

And Caines glitching.

The Gangle Zooble friendship is everything go me. And hearing that from Zooble of all people is such growth.

And Gangles drawing again 🥰

[vampire-dove]

IWTV Kink Meme Fill (2)

Love Has Flooded (Rain In Venice)

Rating: Explicit

Ship: Armand x Marius de Romanus

Prompt: Marius x Armand. Any rating, any idea, I'd just like more of them. Also totally cool with exploring their dynamic in the show rather than the books

Summary: Armand was fifteen years old when he properly lost his virginity. At least, that was what Marius told him. He didn’t remember his own birthday or how many had passed since the time he was born. Apparently, the brothel keeper had provided Marius with an estimated date, likely a completely fabricated one, because Marius had asked for one. However, he discarded the information and told Armand his birthday was the day that Marius had brought him home. Armand was content with this, simply grateful to have a birthday at all. 

Additional tags: Loss of virginity (Armand sees it that way), consensual sex, past rape/noncon, rape recovery, small penis worship, body worship, Marius' canonical ankle kink, oral sex, anal fingering, rimming, gentle sex, creampie, top Marius, bottom Armand, sub Armand, crying during sex, aftercare, overstimulation.

Words: 2,369

Armand was fifteen years old when he properly lost his virginity. At least, that was what Marius told him. He didn’t remember his own birthday or how many had passed since the time he was born. Apparently, the brothel keeper had provided Marius with an estimated date, likely a completely fabricated one, because Marius had asked for one. However, he discarded the information and told Armand his birthday was the day that Marius had brought him home. Armand was content with this, simply grateful to be safe and to have a birthday at all. 

Marius had treated him so well on his birthday. A lot of memories were blurry and blank for Armand, but he could remember this day in almost perfect detail. He could remember the taste of the wide array of food Marius had given him. It was the first time Armand could remember having access to so much food and Marius had only stopped him because he was eating too fast, promising that he could have more later. He could remember how warm the water had been when Marius bathed him, washing his hair and scrubbing his skin. 

Armand’s hair had been clean and still a bit damp when Marius finally took him to a grand bedroom. The space was so beautiful and Marius had told him it was all his. He couldn’t believe the good fortune he had found himself in, waiting to wake up and to be back in the brothel. Marius had laid him down on the large bed and it was softer than anything he had experienced, feeling as though he could sink into it. Marius had been fair about their bodies and stripped himself down to match Armand’s own nudity. 

When Marius had first purchased Armand, he had held his face gently between his hands and called him a cherub. Yet now, it was Marius himself that seemed to be an angel. His hair was so blonde it looked almost white and curled delicately near the ends, and Armand longed to bury his fingers in it to see if it was as soft as it appeared. Every inch of Marius was pure perfection, smooth skin and body hair so light that Armand might have originally thought he had none. Armand had never before felt so overcome with desire for someone. 

Armand’s thoughts reminded him that Marius was not an angel. If Armand himself was an angel then he must be something far higher. A God. Marius had given him the name Amadeo, lover of God. It fit him perfectly, he would worship Marius as long as he was allowed to. Even on their first night together when Armand was still nervous that Marius would hurt him, he was overcome with a sense of trust for the other. He felt protected by Marius and he already knew he would worship Marius’ mercy for as long as he could. 

Marius’ body was colder than anyone else’s that Armand had touched and he couldn’t keep himself from gasping when Marius eased down on top of him. A soft laugh had escaped Marius and lips were brushed over Armand’s warm cheek. It was odd, further solidifying Marius was something more than human, but Armand didn’t mind. Marius was perfect, regardless of if his body was cold and seemed to be marble more than skin. It was odd kissing him, both because Armand had not been kissed very often by this point and because of the lack of warmth. 

Those lips had touched every part of Armand’s body that night. He had teased Armand with his lips and tongue for what seemed to be hours, roaming over each inch of clean skin. Armand had giggled when Marius’ lips brushed across his ribs and stomach, tickling the sensitive skin. He had gasped when those same lips wrapped around one of his nipples, tongue rubbing at it until it hardened beneath his ministrations. 

“Master,” Armand had whined and squirmed, cheeks going pink when he felt the diminutive organ between his own thighs rubbing up against Marius’ chest. It had grown erect and had begun to leak, spreading warm wetness in a sticky streak up Marius’ skin. If Marius noticed this, he did not mention it. He kissed down along Armand’s skin, but avoided his cock altogether. It earned another whine, though Armand knew better than to expect to be touched. Already, Marius was touching him far more than most people did. 

Kisses were pressed along Armand’s thighs, small marks sucked into the inner skin that made Armand gasp. Lips pressed over his knees and down his shins, only stopping once he reached Armand’s feet. Long fingers wrapped around Armand’s foot and drew it closer to Marius’ mouth, Armand laughing above him when he kissed the delicate bone of his ankle. It was so peculiar, but Marius kissed and licked at the skin there as though it had been Armand’s mouth. He was reverent in his actions and as odd as Armand found it, he let Marius do it. 

“Stop,” He finally cried out only when Marius’ tongue had ventured over the top of his foot and reached his toes. He curled them away protectively, laughing harder at the feeling. “Master, please. That tickles,” He insisted urgently and Marius had mercy on him, smiling and pressing a kiss to the sole of his foot before letting it rest back against the bed. He trailed back up Armand’s trembling body, settling to pay attention to his cock. 

Armand had cried out at the first press of Marius’ tongue across his balls, not used to so much attention being paid to his body and his pleasure. Marius seemed entirely devoted to his wants, however. He touched and tasted Armand’s body with practiced skill and if Armand’s mind was capable of thinking in that moment, he might have wondered how much experience his master had with other men. He was solely focused on Marius’ actions at that moment. His thighs tried to close when Marius licked across the head of his cock, but the man held his legs open with such ease that it made Armand’s mind dizzy. 

Marius could so easily ruin him if he wanted to and yet, he was so gentle and soft with him. He was focusing on Armand because he wanted to and Armand would later sob about this fact. Once Marius had caused them both to reach their peaks, Armand would cry openly in his master’s arms and lament over the fact Marius was so tender with him. Tender in ways he had never experienced. During this time, Marius would cradle his boy close and kiss his hair, assuring him he would never have to go back to the brothel again. 

In the moment, Marius took his cock in its entirety. This wasn’t difficult to accomplish, his sex small as the rest of him was. It was an overwhelming sensation to be buried completely in the wet, tight hold of Marius’ mouth. It did not go on for very long before Armand was shaking and moaning, although nothing came from his body. Marius kept going, suckling intently at the smooth skin. He only stopped once Armand pushed at his head, desperately nudging him away as his body became oversensitive. 

He worried Marius might be angry that he had stopped him, but the man was smiling up at Armand as he pulled away. Armand glanced down at himself and grew embarrassed at how needy his body looked. His thighs were spread for Marius and bruises had begun appearing on the inside of his thigh, cock pinkened and shining with saliva from the attention he had received. Marius was so easily able to break him down, to reduce him to this, but there was no disgust in Marius’ gaze. Instead, it was nothing short of adoring. 

“Rest there for a moment. We will keep going soon,” Marius had whispered to him, taking a few seconds to pet Armand’s sweaty curls and to press kisses along his face. He had eased himself off of the bed and Armand could see his erection fully now. It was much larger than Armand’s own, though he had no scale to really describe its size. It hadn’t been the largest he had ever seen, but it was of decent length and girth. His cock was longer rather than thicker and that was the way Armand preferred it. The stretch of girthier men burned and ached, often causing him to bleed. 

There was no such ache when Marius finally took him. He had returned to the bed a few minutes after rising and had brought oil with him, slicking his way. First, he had pressed his tongue to Armand’s hole for what seemed like hours. He had been gentle and slow in the beginning, licking him open before giving in and becoming more excited. His tongue pressed quicker and more roughly, hands tightening on Armand’s hips and drawing him down tighter against his face. It was almost too much to stand. 

Armand had begun squirming around again, pressing a hand over his mouth and trying to stop the noises that drew from his throat. This had bothered Marius who had stopped long enough to force Armand to remove his hand, urging him to let him hear every sound. Armand was embarrassed, but he was fairly certain he would give Marius anything he asked for. He could feel his cock trying to get hard again, though the softened length had a difficult time until Marius had begun pressing oil-slickened fingers into him. 

He started with one even though he didn’t need to, Armand’s body could handle more. The slide didn’t even hurt and Marius was careful as he started moving his finger around, stretching Armand’s insides and curling. When he had two fingers inside, he brushed against that spot that made Armand’s entire body jolt. Marius had chuckled at his reaction and focused on only that spot for a bit. Each stretch of his fingers had been methodical, ensuring he rubbed against it with every curl and press. 

Armand was certain no one had ever been so delicate with him before and very quickly, those slender fingers had worked him back to full hardness. Over the next years together, Armand would become borderline obsessed with Marius’ fingers in every way he could appreciate them and that experience had just been the beginning. Three fingers had been added by the time Marius deemed him prepared enough, despite the fact Armand had desperately promised he could take him after only two. 

Marius had simply shaken his head fondly, soothing a hand over Armand’s thigh for a moment before wrapping two fingers around his cock. He touched Armand like it was the only thing he wanted to do, going so slowly and so passionately that Armand’s head swam with it all. Finally, Marius was retracting his fingers and slicking his own cock. Armand watched as he stroked himself a few times, urging Armand’s thighs up enough to align himself. 

Marius pressing into his body had not hurt aside from the way the stretch affected his already irritated insides, but he hardly cared. Marius had taken immense care with him and it was the first time Armand ever remembered sex not being a painful, frightening experience for his body. He knew his flesh had been touched and taken before, but this time was the one that he considered to be his first time having sex even if he kept that thought private. He knew it might not make sense to other people, especially ones who had never been in that position. 

He had expected things to become rougher and more painful once Marius had begun taking his own pleasure, though that roughness and pain never came. Marius kept his strokes inside steady and loving, taking him as a man might take his new wife on their wedding night. His face had been full of adoration as he made love to Armand, rocking deeply and rubbing against that spot nearly every time. 

The pleasure was overwhelming once Marius had touched his cock again. The length was hardly longer than one of Marius’ own fingers and had often gone unnoticed by other bed partners, but Marius paid attention to it as he did with every other part of Armand’s body. His thumb and forefinger held onto the now overly sensitive flesh and stroked him in time with his own rocking hips. It was all too much and Armand squirmed frantically beneath Marius, both attempting to get away and never wanting the pleasure to end simultaneously. 

He lost track of how long they had spent in bed with Marius invading his body, but he was crying by the end of it. He had shed many tears during his time at the brothel, although none had been from such intense rapture. He worried for a moment that he may have died and this experience was Heaven, Marius felt too real on top of his body, though. Before long, he reached another shivering peak that produced nothing from his body. 

Marius’ fingers had eased away from him and his own movements had slowed down, but he did not stop pushing himself deep into Armand’s warm body. He pressed small kisses all along Armand’s face, making Armand giggle wetly when he licked through the tears trailing down his cheeks. Marius made a noise from deep within his chest just as he spent himself inside of Armand. It felt unlike anything Armand had ever experienced, the release thin and lacked the normal warmth, but he didn’t truly mind. 

Marius had held him for hours after that. He had let Armand cuddle into his arms, fingers in his curls and kisses pressed to the top of his head. Armand had cried openly, something he had never been allowed in the brothel. Marius had assured him with gentle touches and even gentler words, promising him once again that he would never have to go back to the brothel. And Armand believed him. Even as Marius cleaned him up and put him to bed, slipping off to his own chambers, Armand believed he would never return to that place.

[switchbladedreamz]

Bastard of a Leak

Requested?: nah

Pairing: Captain "Luke" Syverson x Reader

Rating: Fluff

Warnings: i made up the name Luke, brief mention of reader having glasses, brief mention of reader being bisexual.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here" the drawl of my husband's southern accent drifts through the air. I ignore him. "Honey don't tell me you been under there all day? When did you go to the hardware store!?". I'm under the kitchen sink surrounded by pieces of pvc, pvc glue, a wrench and clamps here and there, oh and drenched from neck to navel. The leak was driving me crazy and i know my way around a thing or two so I thought i would give my hand a try but apparently my hand is not plumbing compatible. "C'mon baby get out from under there and lemme get a look'achya" my husband asks. I sigh before crawling out from under the sink dusting my back and my ass off, and look up to the hulk of the man in front of me.

The look in his eyes could sink a ship or make his momma proud. Pride, hunger, and awe swirl in his eyes like minnows playing in the shallows of a creek bed. "You been workin on that bastard leak from hell all day, it's already 9:30. I'll call a guy tomorrow. Okay?" I resign with a simple nod, leaning directly forward i rest my forehead on his chest. Sy's arms fold around my grimy body bringing me into him. His warmth momentarily melts away the ache that had settled over me while the sun was still shining. "Okay." i finally settled on the matter. "There's my girl. Now go shower while I heat up your dinner okay?" I relinquish a barely audible "okay", i fight to untangle myself from the tree trunks that refuse to let me go. "Baaahaabyyyyy" i whine until Sy just chuckles and opens his arms. Limply I shuffle toward the bathroom, taking my boots off before the door and tossing the wet tank top off in the hamper with the rest of my clothes. I take a quick cold shower and wash my everything as fast as possible with sore arms and taut back muscles, i want to eat and lay down. Leaving the door open to the steamy bathroom, I walk down the hall to my bedroom. Toweling off and changing into another tank top and shorts. Exiting the bedroom i call out "baby" trying to find my husband. My answer sounds like its coming from the kitchen. "Oh where oh where can my baby beee? The Lord took her away from me" his singing is a treat. Luke turns around as i start the next verse, my plate in his hands. "She's gone to heaven so I've got be good so i can see my baby when I leave this world" I watch as he sets the plate at my place at the table, and the bowl in his left hand he sets at his place. He walks toward me and it is only then i notice he's shirtless. I must've gotten his shirt wet earlier. Big hands warm my hips his fingers slip under my shirt to hold my bare back. We sway as he sings,

"We went out on a date in my daddy's car. We hadn't driven very far. There in the road, straight ahead. A car was stalled, the engine was dead. I couldn't stop so i swerved to the right I'll never forget the sounds that night", my ear rests against his heart. I count the steady pace of his heart beats...1 ..2 ..3 ..4 ..1...2 ..his smooth voice rocks the airwaves around, we rock our bodies to Pearl Jam's rhythm. Luke's voice is like whiskey to me, its deep like amber with a spike of raw honey. I would drink myself to death on it if I could. If only he'd sing for me more often. A loud grumble and a stab of hunger erupted from my stomach which made Sy laugh. Moment over. "C'mon baby lets get some food in that belly".

I sit and eat my "grilled chicken pasta leftover surprise" as my honey so lovingly called it. Luke's head is down, and is currently grunting in between shoveling spoonfuls of.. something, into his mouth, I I left my glasses in the bathroom. He has his forearm wrapped in front of the bowl while his hand wrests on the bowl's side, as if he's holding it to the table..or hostage. I peer over to peek, its ice cream.

It makes me giggle. Such a big man is so protective of a little bowl of ice cream. "Huh?" He perks his head up. There's white drop and caramel all over his mustache and there's little pieces of chocolate in his beard too. I can't hold back my laughter. I get up and head to the kitchen. The hardwood floor of the dining room is cold tonight, the tile is chilled as I enter the kitchen. I lean down in front of the kitchen sink, opening the cabinet doors is when I remember I moved the wash cloths to the counter top. I sigh coming back up, god I'm sore. Snatching the top washcloth on the pile i run it under warm water for a few seconds. I grab a second wash cloth with my dry hand and open the sink cabinet once again. I toss the half unfolded cloth on the puddle of water below the pipes and shut the door with my foot. I could feel my husband watching me like a hawk the whole time, he wouldn't think I noticed his shoulders relax when he realized i was coming back to the table. "Whatcha doin baby?" I decided to ignore his question. I raise the cloth to his face, hesitating trying to convey my intentions. He watches my wrist, anticipation written in his eyes. His lips are drawn thin to a line on his face. "You coulda just said somethin". I just grin back at him as my answer.

I watch as the light casts eyelash shadows beneath his eyes, they flutter then close as the warm cloth comes in contact with his moustache in light downward swipes.

"i gotta tell ya it was pretty sexy seein you under there workin so hard. I guess finding your significant other doing manual labor sexy goes both ways. Like you" he chuckles. His eyes still closed as I clean his beard. His words make me giggle. "Good to know, I'll have to keep that in my back pocket. But I don't wanna get under that sink again." Luke pulls me down onto his lap to sit. He kisses my temple. "You worked damn hard today and I'm proud of you. I made some calls and got a few different quotes, i figured we would look at 'em together tomorrow and decide on who's the best option". It's my turn to kiss him. I lean forward and lightly kiss him, his lips are a little sticky from the ice cream. "You're so sweet, my bear." He takes my left hand and puts his on his cheeks, his thumb twiddling with the set of two rings on my left ring finger. It makes me smile, I give his forehead a small kiss and stand up. I turn around to head to my chair and Luke slaps my ass. He chuckles as the gasp I made as he picks his spoon up and returns back to his mistress, the bowl of Rocky Road.

[ecargmura]

Wonderful Precure Episode 21 Review - The Cattiest Transfer Student

This show is making it hard for me to not ship Yuki and Mayu together. I’m trying hard not to, but it’s too hard to resist. The only thing that’s preventing me from crossing that border is NOT because it’s a pet/owner ship (like I mentioned in some previous reviews that I’m quite an open-minded person when it comes to ships) is the fact that Yuki is still a bit too obsessive over Mayu.

Is it just me or is Yuki written a little inconsistently since her debut? In the beginning, Yuki was introduced as someone who wanted Mayu to make new friends, but as time passes, she started becoming extremely overprotective to an unhealthy degree when it comes to Mayu and the friends she made. I thought she’d learn her lesson after their fight, but it doesn’t seem like the case in this episode at first. However, knowing that Iroha, Komugi and Satoru are understanding of Mayu’s personality and flaws, Yuki does seem to open up to them now. I get that she doesn’t want to see Mayu hurt because of how her ex-friend abandoned her when she was concentrating too hard, but come on, Yuki, you’ve seen how Iroha and Komugi are! They’re the most trusting and loyal people out there! Now, I wonder if she’ll truly open up once Mayu’s ex-friend comes into the picture because she does seem like an important character with the way she had her full name written in the credits—her name is Chiran, apparently.

Not only that, Yuki seems a bit too perfect as a human to the point that it feels a little odd. Like Yuki, how can you read? How can you write? How can you know what ingredients to put in to the food? She only became human for a short time yet she’s adjusting a lot better than Komugi. It sort of gives into the negative stereotypes that dogs are dumb when it comes to Komugi, which isn’t the case for dogs in general. Dogs are intelligent creatures; I just wish media would stop depicting them at stupid at times. Komugi’s not stupid, but rather hyperactive as her breed is full of energy, as shown in this episode.

Regardless, I did like the duo transformation with the cat pair and that there’s confirmation that the cat pair can summon the Kirarin Animals; she summons the Fox, who has the ability to transform the Precures. Seeing Komugi as a tire was the highlight of the episode. She changed attire and looked so happy doing so. The GaruGaru Panda was so silly. It has the power to make people fall asleep and it didn’t really “fight” as it just lazed around for most of its screen time. It’s only when Wonderful-Tire jumped onto it that it started moving. That was seriously the easiest of the Kirarin Animals to purify.

Accumulating these Kirarin Animals feel a bit too fast. It was only last week when the fox joined the squad. Now they have eight Kirarin animals. What will happen when all nine are assembled? Will the Niko Garden lore progress? I still can’t help but to feel a little antsy when the final Kirarin Animal comes into the picture. What do you think?

[banneriscarried]

pelase what is "what do you mean your not a agent??" about im going to explode if you don't tell me

Thank you so much for asking about this one, Toby!

So, this story is a modern AU featuring SHIELD Agent Steve Rogers, Code Name "Captain America", who gets himself into a bit of a sticky situation while working undercover.

- Good news: SHIELD policy states that any undercover operations must have backup available in any situation possible, especially during important and risky stages of the operation

- Bad news: Steve thought he could handle himself and specifically argued that he'd be more likely to be clocked as an undercover agent if he had not undercover agents surrounding him and the targets whenever they went to public locations

- Good news: Natasha went over his head when he made that argument, so now he has backup, which is good because these guys apparently know a lot more about SHIELD than they're supposed to and will start shooting civilians if he doesn't reveal the identity of his partner, so it's good that he actually has one

- Bad news: his backup, Agent Barnes, doesn't seem to understand how this whole "being kidnapped for information" thing is supposed to go, and seems determined to either free them by back talking their kidnappers to death, or get his own tongue cut out, free of charge, but hey, at least he's attractive?

Meanwhile, Bucky Barnes is having the worst day he's had since he was shipped back home missing an arm and out of a job. He'd thought getting into the culinary world would be interesting and fast-paced enough to keep his attention, something he appreciated in his old line of work, but it would overall be harmless. I mean, what kind of danger would being an undercover food critic attract? Apparently, the kidnapping and torturing for information kind, but that seems to be a one-off.

In other words, this is the "Michelin Food Critic Bucky and Secret Agent Steve" AU that no one asked for, but I couldn't get out of my head from the moment I saw this post for the first time:

[cosmica-galaxy]

Submission for contest!

Name: Timebomb

Image:

Mimic species: Hybrid of a camera and clock mimic (clock dominant gene)

Is it friendly or not: Weeeelll…. They aren’t outwardly violent nor outwardly friendly. They observe as much as they can, but if you come into their territory she will try and scare you away. By any means necessary.

Where can it be found: They frequently move from place to place, they don’t like living in one spot for too long. But they are commonly seen living in the ruined remains of skyscrapers in New York City!

What does it eat and how does it get food: Being entirely carnivorous, Timebomb usually stalks any lone meat-creature that is unfortunate enough to go near their current abode. She refrains from using their self-made explosives however, because they might damage or limit the meat they get. They instead try to use their environment to their advantage, luring the prey to a geographical point of structural instability, and causing part of a building to fall on the prey. This is part of the reason why they choose living spaces with tall, numerous remains of buildings. They are really good at staging “accidents”, after all.

Does it have any special abilities: Not really. Especially nothing from the parent they look like the most, their mimic clock father. The only things that could be counted as special abilities is their camera genes, which is unusually similar to a scope on a sniper rifle, and their strange strength for someone as small as them.

Personal backstory: *cracks hands* Time to break this bad boy. Now you didn’t hear this from me, but rumor has it that multiple clockman and drillmen ships came over from the UK for an “investigation” or something. Perhaps they just want to be nosy? Or bother the US alliance for resources? I don’t know. They brought mimics with them, for some reason. Seems like the counterparts work close together. I also hear that one of the mimics went missing. A clock one, yeah, and this next part’s ridiculous. I heard that THAT mimic, met and fell for a CAMERA mimic. Yeah, I KNOW! Crazy, right? Apparently, they had a kid! A little child mimic. Absolutely flooring! Anyways, the clock mimic was caught and brought back just before the ships left for the UK and that camera mimic had to raise her child all on her own. Quite sad, yes. And that child grew quickly. Like, VERY quickly. Adult-within-a-few-months, quickly.*scoff* time magic. Anyway, that kid became really extroverted. I don’t know if camera or clock mimics could talk, but this mimic certainly could. It talked. A LOT. To itself, to it’s mom, to whatever units were unfortunate enough to be found by it. Yapped all day. All night. Until the war moved closer to the city, where it and it’s mother lived. 

It learned to shut up REAL fast when skibidis were around. Apparently it’s mother started going out for longer and longer intervals to get food and resources, and wasn’t coming back for longer periods of time. Then one day, she didn’t come back at all. And rumor has it the mimic child is still out there, perched on ruins after all this time, waiting for it’s mother to come back. … oh stop shaking! It’s just a rumor. … alright alright if it will make you feel better, the mother came back. mothers always come back.

Right? -- Here’s an entry by @cattaildragonfly​! Don’t worry, I fixed the image issue for you! That’s also very sad! They loose their dad and then their mom. So they’re just out there waiting for their parents to come back...but I doubt the mother will. I hope all the best for Timebomb! <: )

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Drowning in his gaze (part 3)

Elendil x reader

This is mainly inspired by this post by @the-haven-of-fiction about Lloyd Owen’s character in Monarch of the Glen.

This is part three of three. This part Is dedicated to the lovely @montyc, whose support is more important than they know.

*****

The ship had been sighted from the city a few hours before docking, and a small but excited crowd has gathered at the pier, waiting to welcome the first of the thousands of soldiers coming back from more than five years at the front. You wait in a corner, wondering what exactly are you feeling, either eagerness or the desire that the next minutes would never pass, and among the couples, the families and the groups of friends celebrating the return of their loved ones, you see him, a tall and imposing figure wearing armor and cape, directing the others and making sure docking operations are carried out as they should. 

He sees you as well; it would be harder not to, since you are the only person present wearing a mourning dress, but even if you were not, in that very moment you know he would have found you all the same. 

He slowly moves towards you, as you meet halfway, and as you stand in front of each other for the first time in five years, you both spend a minute taking each other in. He is as handsome as you remembered or even more so, because the young man, full of bravery and hope you said goodbye to, is now a veteran who knows blood and violence and death; his blue eyes are brighter than ever, his smile brave but fragile. He whispers your name, and then you are holding each other in a hug, desperate and anguished, you are caressing his hair as you would do to console a child and he sobs softly, as if he were too ashamed to express his sadness where his men could see him.

“Let us go.” you say in the end “There is food and a bath waiting for you at home, but if you want we can go to him first.”

He nods quietly, as you were sure he would have, and after he has retrieved his satchel you accompany him to the cemetery. You walk unhurriedly next to each other, and you would be curious to know whether Elendil still recognizes the city he has grown up in or five years were enough to make him forget the streets and the buildings, but there will be time for pleasantry. 

“I am happy you are home.” you whisper in the end as you pass a small park the two of you often went playing in as children “I know it is for the saddest of reasons, but... I have missed you.”

“I have missed you as well, (name).” he is quick to answer, with a smile that can still make your heart beat twice as fast, even after all that has happened “I am so sorry you had to take care of everything alone.”

“It was no hassle, truly; you know how much I loved your father. And, I see you have been named captain! Congratulations.” 

He received the promotion one month ago, he tells you, a few days after sending his last letter to his father; he wanted to surprise him, in his next message or, since it was apparent among the soldiers that the enemy King and Tar-Palantir would soon begin peace negotiations, to tell him in person, when he came back.

But things have gone differently; he does not utter the words, but you know you are both thinking about it, and there is so much you would ask him, about his experiences as a soldier, his plans for the future, and you, but you cannot, not now, not before he has said farewell to his father... and not three days after Merendur has brought you the marriage contract for the two of you, to sign and that will become effective as soon as you are married. 

You have lost him. It does not matter that he is walking next to you, so close your hands almost touch; you are very happy to see him, and to know he has survived the war, but essentially, he could be at the other end of the Sea, and it would change nothing: he will never be yours, and you will never be his.

Never.

You tell him to take his time, and he spends a few minutes in front of the tomb of his father, his head bowed and his lips barely moving in a prayer - or maybe a conversation. You keep your distance, allowing them the peace they need, and in the meantime, under a quickly darkening sky as the night approaches, you wonder how you will tell him the truth. 

In the end you just do it. You have returned home, Elendil has taken off his boots -Eru, my feet hurt so much!- left his satchel in his room, that you have prepared for him, and washed away grime and sweat in a basin; desperately trying to delay the inevitable, you ask him whether he wants to take a bath, or, or, a nap, or to eat something...

“(name), please.” he stops you, taking your hand gently in his and making you sit next to him at the table where you, he and your father have shared countless meals  “Everything is all right, and the thing I want the most is talk; with you. I... I think we really need to.”

You could not agree more. You nod, silently inviting him to go on, but Elendil, the most determined and steadfast person you know, for once appears to hesitate, as if he does not know what you need to talk about... or does not have the words, or the courage, to broach the subject. In the end...

“My father and I had spoken about what would happen once he passed away; I do not think he expected it to happen so soon, but since we had no other relatives, and I was a soldier, it was important that I was aware of his will, and he of mine.”

You remain silent as he stops to drink avidly from the cup you have put in his hands; you have no idea what he is talking about, but certainly it is not the topic you thought, and wished, he would consider most important, and you can barely hide the disappointment in your heart. 

“My father has made a bequest for you. I am his only heir, and he knew you would be taken care of thanks to your parents’ estate, but he wanted to show how much he cared for you, and how he considered you a part of our family. Because of this, he wished for you to have my mother’s jewels. All of them.”

Despite everything, you have to press a hand to your mouth to suffocate a shout. No one better than you knows how important the memory of his wife was for Amandil, and gifting you her jewelry, even though he has no daughters -or daughters in law...- who could rightfully inherit them, is a beautiful, loving gesture, much more important that the actual, and not insignificant, value of the ornaments themselves. With that bequest, Amandil is saying that you are part of his family, the child he did not beget but raised and loved and cared for as if she were. 

Elendil smiles softly as he sees you drying tears from your eyes.

“I do not deserve it...”

“Of course you do. My father loved you, and I know you loved him as well. Take them, I will be glad seeing you wearing my mother’s things.”

You smile as well, touched, and then the silence falls between the two of you, a silence full of so much unsaid that it is physically painful to bear it; you look at your friend, praying that those five years of separation made him realize he cared for you as more than, or differently from, a friend, and you will finally have a chance to live what you, perhaps presumptuously, have always felt was destined to happen between you...

“Did you have to pay a death duty for the house? Or any other tax after my father’s death?”

You look at him. You could be honest, of course, because Elendil is the last person in Númenor you would have to hide your feelings from to avoid humiliation, but the truth is you already did! Five years ago, you told him what you felt, and he rejected you; if his feelings have changed, or he realized he had made a mistake, how could he expect you to take the first step once more? You are too old, and your friendship too important, to care about petty mistakes or to resent each other, but he has had five years to think about it, he left and never even wrote to you, and now... 

Maybe nothing has changed for him; maybe he still considers you nothing more than a friend, now as then, and the feelings you think he is simply too shy to express actually only exist in your mind. In that case you have to accept it, find a way to move on, and there is only one way to do it...

“Elendil.”

He looks at you as he prepares to talk again; had you waited just for ten more seconds, the following conversation would have been completely different, and happier, and concluded by a kiss that was five years in the making. “Yes?”

“I am going to be married.”

*****

Elendil meets Merendur two days later, as your intended joins the two of you for dinner; Merendur is friendly and respectful, happy to meet and determined to make a good impression on the man he only knows as your oldest friend and foster brother. They shake hands, make small talk and discuss about your impending nuptials, that you and Merendur have agreed will take place at Varda’s temple.

“We have decided (name) will move with me in our family home until we have found a place of our own.” your intended explains as you pour wine in each of your cups, and then glance at Elendil, who is impassible, polite and at ease in his newfound role of master of the house, but completely inscrutable, thoughts and feelings hidden behind his beautiful blue eyes.

He has no idea your union to Merendur is just a marriage of convenience. You have spoken privately with your intended this morning, and he has accepted to pretend to be madly in love with you while Elendil is with you, just as you did when you met Merendur’s relatives a few weeks ago. Since no one expected you to kiss in public or declare your undying love for each other that dinner was easy and even pleasant enough, and you got along well with your future parents-in-law; tonight, instead... tonight is proving to be a real torture, even though you cannot exactly know why. Elendil is not being rude, or offensive, nor is he opposing your wedding, but still after five years you know him well enough to perceive he is tense, a disquiet barely hidden in his heart as he laughs at Merendur’s jokes or tells him about his enlistment in the Sea Guard. You have nothing to be afraid of, since he cannot forbid you from getting married -his father could have, but only until you came of age- and in any case, you are determined to put some distance between the two of you from now on, cherishing him as a friend but focusing on your work and other interests to try and forget your feelings for him, but...

Curse you! Why can I not see what your heart is hiding?

“Will you be all right by yourself, Elendil?” Merendur asks as you all eat “I know you have lost your father, and soon (name) will move away; it will be quite a change, to live by yourself for the first time.”

The question is maybe too personal to ask to someone he has just met, but sincere in its empathy, and Elendil forces himself to smile: you will never know how ashamed he is in that moment, for the completely unreasonable hate that fills his heart for the man who is going to become your husband in less than ten days. 

“It will; but I do not think I will stay long in Armenelos in any case.”

The fork almost falls from your hand. “... what?” you ask, calmly -you force yourself- and your friend explains that as a result of his bravery during the war he has been offered a prestigious post in Andustar, as deputy commander of a recently built Sea Guard garrison, and he is inclined to accept.

“That seems quite a task.” Merendul states courteously.

“It is. But it would be an important advancement for my career and...” Elendil looks straight in front of him; he has barely touched his wine “... now that my father has passed away, I do not have much to keep me in the city.”

The dinner comes to an end somewhat earlier than you expected, but peacefully enough; Merendur and Elendil shake hands once more as they bid each other goodnight.

“And you will be walking her, of course.”

“Excuse me?”

“(name)” your intended clarifies, as if it were obvious “You are her... adoptive brother; since both her father and guardian have passed away, and she has no other close male relative, you should take their place during the ceremony, walking her to the altar. Did the two of you not talk about it? Of course, if you would rather not...” 

Your friend cannot see you in that moment, since you are standing behind him, a few steps away, but you could swear on your life that he knows you are there, and that when he answers, he is you he is talking about, not your intended.

“Of course. I will be glad to give her away.”

Later, you and your friend find yourself together in the living room, while the governess is in the kitchen cleaning. Elendil is writing a letter to the family of a comrade  who died in service, while you are focused on your embrodery.

“He seems like a good man.” he states in the end, and there is no mockery or spite in his voice, he is too noble and good-hearted to speak ill of someone because of a personal antipathy, but that comment upsets you nonetheless.

Why is that? Would you have preferred that he hated Merendur with every fiber of his body?

“He is. He is clever and kind and... and he cares for me.” you react.

“Of course he does. I am sure.”

He remains focused on his letter, but when you stand from your chair he lifts his face, suddenly alarmed. “Where are you going?”

“To my room. I... I am tired...”

“(name).” he calls softly, and that works better than any order or commanding tone; you stop, giving him time to reach you and take your hand.

“Do you love him?” he asks, looking you in the eyes and flinches “I know I have no right to ask you...”

“Exactly. You do not. Leave me alone, Elendil, please. The way I decide to live my life has nothing to do with you; I will marry Merendur, you will move at the other side of the island, and you will forget even meeting me.”

You spoke out of spite, and it works, because Elendil reacts as if you slapped him; for a moment it is like he is seeing you for the first time. “I could never forget you. You know how much I care about you.”

“You do? You seem to have completely forgotten about me, even though you found the time to write to your father regularly. I know you were fighting in a war, not on vacation, but did I not even deserve a short note?”

“I...”

“You, Elendil. You know it has always been you.” you state turning to face him, and sigh, because it has never been so hard to admit something that was so clear in your heart; it is as if you had taken a huge weight off your shoulders, and felt the pain only once you were free from it “I told you how I felt, and you rejected me. Which of course is not a crime, you are free to do what you deem right, but you cannot expect to come back after five years of silence, and find nothing to have changed. Merendur is a good man; he does not love me, but he cares for me, he respects me, and he made an honest proposal, speking clearly of his feelings and desires, unlike..."

“Unlike me. This is what you are saying.”

Elendil is looking at you, thunder in his eyes and rage in his heart. “You are marrying a man you do not love because... you want to get married? Since when do you care about such things? Since when do you care about the status, and what other women your age are doing? Since when you accept people’s help to reach objectives that are well within your reach? Where is your independence? Where is your confidence in yourself?” 

“Be quiet! You... you...”

“I love you, (name).

Silence.

“I always have, maybe since I was too young to understand those feelings, and when you told me that my father had started thinking about your marriage it was... as if a candle had lit in my mind where before there was only dark. I love you more than anything else in the world, and being away from you for five years was... a torture. I have thought about you every day, every moment...”

“But you never told me; not in person, when you could, or in writing.” you point out. He has just told you what you had hoped to hear for five years, but instead of delighted and ecstatic, you feel shattered, as if you had spent your life running towards a prize you now discover to be worthless “You have kept me in the dark, as if I did not deserve to know the truth because... what? You expected me to keep loving you, to remain faithful while you traveled far away, maybe never to return? You left me without even expressing your feelings because you were... taking mine for granted? You thought that you could live your life as you pleased, and then come back once you had reached your goals, and I would be here ready waiting for you, to marry or simply to take to bed?”

It is a terrible, unfair accusation, for one who knows him well as you do, and Elendil’s eyes are full not of rage, which would be hurtful enough, but of sadness and disappointment, as if he had been betrayed by his closest and loyalest ally.

“If I left without telling you what I felt, without telling you I wanted to share my life with you, without asking for your hand, it was because I wanted to be worthy of you.” he explains, and his voice is more than sad, more than angry or disappointed; it is resigned “Because I wanted you to be proud to be my wife, and to be able to take care of you. What did I have to offer you five years ago? I was just the son of a noble family without a position or properties of his own, who still depended on his father for everything he owned, a simple seaman like so many others. It is not unheard for young soldiers to obtain promotions during a war mission, so I thought... I could come into my own, and become a man, a son, and a husband, you could be proud of. It has been the hardest thing I have ever done, as if I were leaving a part of me, but I thought it were for the best; I hoped... I hoped that if your feelings were as strong and steadfast as I thought, you would have waited for me.”

He laughs, full of sadness, and shakes his head. “Mark me, I am not accusing you; but I feel so foolish... My heart was so full of hope when I left, and when I was away I lost both my father and you. I am alone, and the fault is all mine.”

“Elendil...”

“I am sorry. I never wished... I only thought about myself, and you are right, I took you for granted, as if you could find no better than me. I... I hope you will be happy with your husband, and I swear, I will be your friend forever...”

You stand there for a while, face to face, so close you could touch each other just lifting your hand, but at the same time it is as if you were standing at the opposite ends of the world. Suddenly you remember Merendur’s words, that once married you would not be bound by the duty of loyalty as most wives are, but you could never propose something like that to Elendil: the mere idea would horrify him, and what exists between you, your love, deserves better than being reduced to a sordid extra-marital affair. 

This is the end, the end of everything, and it is all your fault, because he is right, you have allowed your ambition and your insecurities to make you forget the trust you always had in your abilities and self-assurance, as well as the trust and the respect for your friend. If only you had waited... if only you had not let fear and solitude govern you...

“I am sorry.” you whisper; what else could you say? Another sad smile opens Elendil’s mouth, a chaste, sweet kiss touches your forehead, and then you are alone.

*****

The day of your wedding is beautiful, sunny and warm after a whole week of pouring rain, as if, an older neighbour suggests, the Valar themselves wanted to express their approval on your and Merendur’s union. You bite your tongue, not wanting to sound disrespectful or blasphemous, but you strongly doubt someone is watching over you in that moment, and that while you have only yourself to blame for your predicament, clearly none of the Valar deemed appropriate to give you a sign you were going to make the worst mistake of your life.

As tradition dictates, your female friends come early in the morning to help you get ready for the ceremony. Elendil has disappeared since the previous night, but reappears exactly when he is needed; he is more handsome than ever -and sober, you realize with a touch of surprise- in full uniform, the bitter but determined look of a man ready to do his duty, no matter how painful.

He does not speak as he looks at you, already wearing the bridal dress you have inherited from your mother, your hair for the first time covered by the veil only married women have the right to use, as a sign of chastity and virtuosity - two characteristics you feel you are solely lacking. Your friends have suggested you wear some of the jewels you have inherited from Amandil, and while you are sure it would have made him happy -and some of the pieces are absolutely gorgeous- you knew it would have broken Elendil’s heart, and because of this you wore a simple pendant you had had for years, and earrings bought for the occasion. 

“You look...” he starts, and then he looks unable to continue, as if he could not find the words to describe your appearance, or the emotion had blocked the voice in his throat “... like a real bride.”

“I am a real bride.” you sadly remind him. 

“Yes. I know. But you are not mine, and this breaks my heart.”

There is nothing more to say. You leave the house together, and a carriage is there waiting to carry you to the temple. You do not speak, but Elendil is taking advantage of the solitude you are probably enjoying for the last time in your life to hold your hand, his thumb caressing the back.

“I will always be there for you.” he quietly swears “From today until the end of times. Whatever happens, whatever problem you will have to face, you can count on me.”

“Even after you have moved to Andustar?” you ask with the hint of a smile.

“Even after I have moved to Andustar. I promise.”

He told you two days ago; he is almost sure he will accept the proposal of his commander, and move far away from the city, never to return. You are not sure how that makes you feel: it will be impossible to maintain your friendship as you have done until five years ago, and you do not know what would be more heart-breaking: to never see him again, or to to cross his path, maybe in the streets or under the roof o a mutual friend, and to have to pretend... 

After what could have been only a few minutes, or a few hours, the carriage stops. You and Elendil share a look; there is no reason to talk again. He kisses the hand he is still holding in his, and uses the other to push the carriage’s door open. 

A small crowd of friends and well-wishers has gathered in front of Varda's temple; women toss flower petals on your path, the sweet song of a minstrel’s lyre reaches your ears. And standing at the entrance there is he, your intended, the man who is going to become your husband in less than half an hour; Merendur, who you like and respect and trust, but who will never make you happy, nor you him, and marrying whom will maybe raise people’s esteem for you, or earn you new work opportunities -but do you really need them? Or is Elendil right, and you are clever and hard-working enough to make it on your own, without letting difficulties discourage you?- but it will not be worthy what you are doing, because as much as you love your job, you are losing a part of you too great and precious to be replaced... or to make without.

Merendur, very handsome in his groom tunic and cape, looks vaguely ill as he looks at you and attempts to smile, and you force yourself to smile back as you take Elendil’s arm -this could be the last time you touch him, a voice whispers in your ear; and suddenly a single tear rolls down your cheek- and begin slowly walking between two wings of the crowd, hoping the people all around you mistake your reluctance for the dignified walk of a bride. All the eyes are on you, people chanting, clapping, and every single person looks happier than you feel.

I do not want this. I do not want him. Please, I want to go, I do not want to do it...

You are twenty steps from the entrance of the temple. Fifteen steps. Ten steps, close enough to see the decorations inside, and to smell the incense burning; seven... four... and then you are passing through the archway, walking on the white and blue tiles of the tessellated pavement until you have reached the altar, where Merendur is now waiting for you, next to an elder priest wearing rich vestments. No one is speaking; even the music has ceased. Then...

“Who presents this woman to be married to this man?” the priest formally asks.

“I do.” Elendil answers; his voice is firm, but full of sadness. You feel your hand shaking in your friend’s gentle grasp as he puts it in Merendur’s hand, and when he leaves it, suddenly you are cold. 

The next minutes pass as in a dream; the ceremony begins, and you move and speak as it is expected from you but without actually meaning it, like a marionette whose strings are moved by the puppeteer, and finally it is time for the exchange of the nuptial vows.

“(name), do you promise...?”

“Wait.”

He spoke without raising his voice, but there is such strenght in it, the quiet authority of someone used to command; all the eyes, including yours, move on the source of that single word... but he is only looking at you.

“Do not do it.” Elendil states; he is begging, and ordering, you at the same time “Do not marry him; come away with me.”

The whole room gasps; Merendur’s mother, sitting in the forefront, lets out a scream. Everyone is back looking at you, but not to admire your beauty and elegance or offer their congratulations; they wait avidly for your reaction, and you... you do not disappoint. You cannot speak, nor communicate your assent with a nod, but Elendil sees the truth in your eyes, and with a grin grabs your hand... and a moment later you are running down the corridor, and no one tries to stop you as you reach the great door at all speed, and then you are out...

It is an exhilarating, liberating run, away from the temple, away from the chaos you must have left behind you, away from what you have known for weeks would have been the worst mistake of your life; you run like you have never run before, not so much from but towards something, and you barely notice the fact that you are out of breath, or that your feet hurt -the delicate slippers you are wearing are not the appropriate footwear for a sprint- because you are free, finally and when you dared to hope no longer, and you are with him, and this is enough to make you happy.

You are laughing out loud, and Elendil is lauging with you, as the streets of the city pass you by, until you have reached a small circular square, surrounded by a marble parapet, opening on a breath-taking view on the city harbour. You are alone as you finally stop, both struggling to breathe, and it is only when Elendil turns to look at you expectantly that the reality of what you have done comes crashing down, and you cannot believe it has happened, cannot believe you went along with it.

Elendil looks at you. “Changing your mind, are you?” he inquires as he passes an hand in his dark hair, and you shake your head, still dazed and euphoric.

“Of course not. But I cannot believe it, you... you had just given me away...”

“I did.” he agrees as he encircles your waist with his arm, and a smile of pure happiness opens on his mouth “And now I am taking repossession.”

Again, you move towards each other and your lips meet in the middle. You kiss him after having torn the veil from your hair and let it fall on the ground; you kiss him throwing your arms around him, and pressing your mouth on his as if your life depended on it; you kiss him not caring that you are still dressed for your wedding to another man, and that within an hour the whole city will know what you have done, and will be happy to gossip about it for the next century. You think about Merendur, and yes, about him you do care, and are ashamed of the situation you put him in, the embarassment of being abandoned at the altar, and the breaking of the pact you had made -even though, you suspect, he was having his own afterthoughts on the whole matter- and you would not be surprised if he decides never to talk to you again. You will be saddened by it, truly... but, and even though it means you are the most egotistical person in Númenor, you cannot really focus on that guilt, let alone walk back to the temple to beg your friend’s forgiveness and offer to conclude the rite and marry him. You will never let fear and doubt rule your life again, you vow to yourself, and you will never part from the man you love, now that he has come back to you.

“I think my standing in the city has just been destroyed.” you murmur as your mouth just barely parts from Elendil’s, your kisses multiplying and each hungrier and more eager than the latter; his hands have started moving on your body just like you have always dreamed, his touch sensual and worshipful at once “I think I should search for a new home. Is there place for me, on your ship to Andustar?”

“It is a splendid idea.” Elendil answers right away; he is holding you as if he never wants to let you go “I am sure you will do splendidly. As a wise man once said, there is always work for a capable scribe.” 

You laugh, and you exchange promises and kisses holding each other tight, oblivious to everything that is not the two of you, and the radiant future opening in front of your eyes. 

Tagging @starlady66 and @elvenenby .

[theantonian]

The Battle of Actium, Part 3: Aftermath

Cleopatra was planning the next steps for defending Egypt; but Antony watched with despair the disintegration of his forces. The swift ships with which he had escaped caught up with Cleopatra's squadron, and he got aboard Cleopatra's flagship.

He went without a word to the prow of the ship, and sitting down, held his head in his hands like one who was dazed. He was still sitting there dumb and heartbroken, when night fell. Now Octavian had seen him go in pursuit of Cleopatra, and, supposing that he would presently come back, had at once dispatched two or three fast Liburnian galleys to attempt his capture while he was thus alone; and with them went a certain vessel which had been provided and fitted out by a man named Eurycles, a Spartan, who had placed himself and his ship at Octavian's service in order to be revenged upon Antony for having condemned his father, Lachares, to death for robbery- In the darkness these vessels came up with the Antonias and the escorting ships which, laden with Cleopatra's treasure and baggage, were sailing by her side; and at this Antony rose to his feet, and called out: "Who is this that wants Antony?" Across the water came the reply: "I am Eurycles, son of Lachares, armed with the warrant of Gaius Octavian's fortune to revenge my father's death.” Antony gave the order to turn about and face the danger, and at this the Liburnian ships drew off in fear, only the vessel of Eurycles keeping to its course. For a moment this man was seen standing at the prow, holding aloft a spear which he was about to hurl at Antony, who faced him; but suddenly the ship collided with one of the Egyptian vessels, and both drifted away into the darkness, locked together. The Antonias then continued on her way, and Antony resumed his seat in the prow.

The sun rose and found him haggard and unkempt. His two servants brought him food, but if he ate at all he did not know what he ate. The third night ensued, and during the next day they sailed across the Gulf of Messeniacus (Kalamata), and that evening reached Cape Taenarium, the southernmost point of Greece. Here a halt had to be made in order to obtain supplies and fresh water; and at last, Iras and Charmion persuaded Antony to join Cleopatra.

During the day two or three ships came in, bringing refugees from Actium and news of the results of the battle- Octavian had been victorious, they said; and at four o'clock in the afternoon, about two hours after Antony had left, the fleet had given up the fight and had surrendered, although not more than five thousand men had lost their lives, and few ships had been sunk. Including the transports and other shipping in the Gulf, about three hundred vessels had passed into Octavian's hands, of which the best part of two hundred were powerful men-o-war by no means seriously damaged. Antony's informants told him that only a few of the officers knew that he had deserted them and many of those to whom these had given the news had refused to believe it, supposing, rather, that he had been killed or had gone away on important business and would presently return- The army, it seemed was standing firm, and was preparing to march inland. At this Antony dispatched messengers to his generals, telling them to lead the troops eastwards through Macedonia and Thrace into Asia Minor; but he had no hope that these orders would be carried out. Long before they could reach the army, his desertion would have been apparent to all, and there would have been a general capitulation. It was too late for him to go back himself: he would almost certainly be captured and put to death. Nor had he any desire to continue the war or to sacrifice any more lives in the cause of a leader so worthless as himself. The Queen's mind, it is true, was already full of plans for defending herself in Egypt; but he himself could not think so far ahead as this. He wanted, for very shame, to die; and no one who has studied his face in the Vatican bust, and has observed the sensitiveness of his mouth, will fail to appreciate the agony of his humiliation.

Amongst the refugees there were several senators and officers, and to these he offered a large sum of money and numerous plates and dishes of gold which Cleopatra had told him he might use for this purpose; but "they refused his kindness with tears in their eyes, and he, on his part, comforted them with all the goodness and consideration imaginable, begging them to leave him, and writing letters on their behalf to his steward at Corinth that he would provide for their safety and keep them concealed till such time as they could make their peace with Octavian." There were two men, however, who elected to go with him across the sea: one was a Greek professor of oratory, named Aristocrates, and the other was that Roman officer, Lucilius, who, after the battle of Philippi, had pretended to be Brutus to save his defeated general's life, as already recorded and who had been forgiven for his deception and spared by Antony.

He had sailed from Taenarum south to Cyrene, where five legions had been stationed under Lucius Pinarius Scarpus, Caesar's nephew and Antony's legate at Philippi, to protect northeast Africa. The soldiers had turned against Scarpus and were now under Cornelius Gallus, Octavian's man. Their hope of veteran land allotments in Italy lay with the winner. And their loyalty did not lie with Egypt against Rome. Only those who feared for their personal safety under Octavian and those who felt a rare loyalty in friendship remained with Antony. As Antony took stock in the Egyptian port of Paraetonium, his despair was so great that he tried suicide but was stopped by two loyal followers. It was a small contingent that sailed with him to Alexandria.

Sources: Plutarch's Life of Antony

Cassius Dio, Roman History, Vol. V, Book: 50

Eleanor Goltz Huzar, Mark Antony-A Biography

Arthur Weigall, The Life & Times of Mark Antony

Painting: The Flight of Antony and Cleopatra from the Battle of Actium, Agnes Pringle.

[quarktrinity]

quark watches star trek season 1 episode 8

oh shit theyre going to an alternate earth??? thats cool as hell

alt earth looks like shit

wow spock estimates that it appears as it did in 1960. what a coincidental year

kirk hands spock a tricycle. spock hands the tricycle to mccoy. mccoy just puts it down. i love this show

rabid earth man angy

hes very upset that his tricycle is broken

um. yeah he just fucking died. ok

they brought red shirts with them. uh oh

are girls immune to the red shirt curse? yeoman rands wearing red. should i be afraid

earth girl is terrified of them, what the hell happened here

so someone just rubbed the dust off a window to see spock through it. except they rubbed the inside of it. and im pretty sure the dust would be on the outside. so.

"grups", dystopia slang for grown-ups

this episode is amazingly tragic

this earth girl, miri, her name is the episode title. interesting

not a huge fan of the camera work when kirk told this kid shes "very pretty." they made it weird. let him be nice.

this is some home alone shit

the way kirk is talking to this kid is uncomfortably close to being flirting. she clearly has a crush on him and he should not be talking to her like this. writers stop it

the remastered cgi is a little jarring sometimes. kinda wish i could see the old shitty stuff, whatever it was

spock is such a dick lmao

ok so the people who used to be here tried to become immortal and fucked up and it made a disease that kills adults which all the human crew members are getting now?

"she likes you, jim" "shes becoming a woman" SHUUUUT UUUUUP

the kids age super slowly apparently and then get The Disease when they enter puberty. horrifying!!!

KIRK DONT HOLD HER HAND. GOD.

do these kids farm. where are they getting their food. surely any preserves have been depleted by now

ive yet to see any fight choreo in this show that i can take seriously

kirk gives this girl busywork sharpening pencils. kind of hilarious ngl

wuh oh the kids stole their walkie talkies

ok so their foods running short and the kids will starve soon? why now? why havent they starved in the 300 years theyve been running around????

miri hates rand bc Jealousy.

miris a spy for the Kid Gang >:T shes conspiring to get kirk killed. girl needs so much therapy

why hasnt anyone on the ship gone down to check on them. its been 5 days

jesus christ this episode is traumatic

they had to move a set piece when the camera moved in. i love the 60s.

ive never read lord of the flies but im certain this is derivative of it

mccoy no dont be an idiot

mccoy noooooooooooooo

it has been 0 episodes since kirks shirt was ripped (it was just his sleeves but still)

this vaccine works extremely fast

mccoy is ok thank god

yaaaayy the vaccine works

"i never get involved with older women, yeoman" -kirk, about miri. SHUT THE FUCK UUUUUUUUP

[cryptic-mythos]

@raggedy-sandy is forcing me to make an electra x Dinah ship edit someone save me 😔

[fireflyhwufanficwriter]

My thoughts on Dr. Stone’s S03E01 (“New World Map”)

(Safe to read for anime-only folks.)

My thoughts after watching Season Three, Episode One:

01. The first two lines we ever hear in this season, THIS season, is Senku saying, "This scenery takes me back. I'm absolutely bawling" while he and the others are flying to Ishigami Village. Which I'm SURE is a direct reference to when he stood over Byakuya's grave, said "this takes me back," and cried the very first tear we've ever seen Senku shed... at his father's, Ishigami Byakuya's, grave :') Very, very well-done already, and it's only been two lines so far! :O

02. Chrome is NOT willing to let Ryusui have his village, haha! XD

03. I know Senku was looking to the side probably because he rope helped him navigate the balloon downwards, and stuff... but Chrome tossed the rope to Kohaku, so he should be looking somewhere in her direction, and I'm gonna choose to believe he was looking right at her! :D

04. The production quality in this first scene is top-notch! And of course we're getting a short clips show :) It's pretty cool to see what Ryusui was doing right before he was petrified! :O

05. The kids and adults are so excited to see Senku! :) He even has a hand on a little girl's head, and he's smiling; aww! :D And another little girl asked him to play, AND he said agreed! That is so sweet! :) I HAVE to remember this for my fanfic! :D

06. Apparently, "Come. We'll show you around Ishigami Village," is Kohaku code for, "Come, I'm going to give you a walking tour of why Senku's so awesome" XD

07. He has a globe in his laboratory... that's a nice detail! Something else I can use in my fanfic! :)

08. Ryusui teleported from the laboratory to the shed of science XD

09. What's Ginro holding in his right hand? Is it a tool for smoothing the wood? :O

10. A ship building team and an oil searching team, both working towards the goal of sailing and finding out the truth behind the petrification! :)

11. I must say, I'm not feeling the opening song of Dr. Stone: New World. It's too fast for me, and it doesn't help that I don't know the English translation of the lyrics yet, so it doesn't have any personal meaning for me, although of course I like seeing my favorite characters, and certain new characters that will be introduced later on in the season :) ...Well, except that big hat guy. I know his name, but I don't like him... -_-

12. The second-to-the-last shot of the OP is really nice. At the end of the previous seasons' three OPs, Senku was always, always alone. But in this season's OP, he's with so many people - Suika, Kohaku, Ukyo, Kinro, Ginro, Gen, Nikki, Ryusui, Francois, Kaseki, Yuzuriha, Chrome, Yo, and Taiju. He really, truly isn't alone anymore - he has friends by his side :)

13. Ah, the title of the first episode of Season Three... New World Map! :) And the title is on paper now! :D

14. It is so cool that they have enough metal now that they can use some of it on things that aren't vital to their scientific goals, but are just little things that make life a bit better, like those metal food covers! :)

15. Ryusui... what you're imagining ain't what you're getting... XD

16. Grilled fish, grilled fish soup, grilled fish salad, grilled fish desert, grilled fish... something XD Small fishes inside big fishes! :O

17. Small detail, but I like that Senku addresses Jasper and Turquoise by name :) I suppose it's too bad that they... WEREN'T attacked? XD

18. Ryusui is SO determined to find food! XD Poor guy... And Senku's being quite encouraging! :D

19. Kohaku! ^_^ Kohaku's flying!! Yay! :D She's so happy and thrilled! AND prepared; she has her sword and new shield on her even though she's hanging from a hot-air balloon! :O

20. Senku casually said she should stop freaking out like a child, but he looks pleased AND he called her "lioness!" Ah, it's been WAY too long... :) Kohaku noticed, too! :D

21. Finally, a shot with just Senku and Kohaku! They're talking about the possibility of finding oil :)

22. I wonder why that forest stood out to Kohaku? She's seen a lot of forests, and even on the hot-air balloon, she would have seen bunch of trees already. Maybe cedar is rare for the villagers? Or maybe something about how the trees looked made her think they were noteworthy or useful? :O

23. High-quality animation AND new graphics - they're really showing what they've got in this first episode! :D

24. First, Kohaku and Chrome worked as a team to find the cedar forest, and then Ryusui and Ukyo worked as a team to find that feral goat herd. And the way he showed genuine respect and care to that goat was so Ukyo :)

25. But... are they supposed to let the blood out in the water like that? I thought you weren't supposed to do that because the bacteria would go into the water and negatively affect the fish there... or maybe that's just for guts and innards and stuff, but not blood? Or maybe that's just when it comes to fish? Don't know... :O

26. Sigh, Senku writing and Kohaku pointing, with Chrome and Ukyo and Ryusui, making a map of the new world together... :) It's so nice to see this in detail and color! :D

27. The villagers were impressed by the map! :) Although, Ryusui, you could have been more tactful; I'm sure the villagers would have also liked more variety in their diet... -_-

28. This is the second time we've seen that particular elderly woman show her relief that nobody will starve to death anymore... poor woman... :( And something I hadn't considered was that anime lends room for empathy when it comes to voices. Turquoise said pretty much the same thing to the world woman, but it seemed more dismissive/annoyed to me in the manga and more empathetic in the anime :)

29. Ah, so the village was a lot bigger before Kohaku was born, but a lack of food one year meant a lot of people died, including Turquoise's family... :(

30. Uh, this "plants enslaving humanity" angle is new to me... XD

31. Oh, Kohaku might not know about currency yet, haha! Oooh, she found golden foxtail... or wheat! :D

32. They're going to their own food, by themselves! :)

33. Slash, slash, slash, goes Kohaku on the golden foxtail, just like she did on the green foxtail! :D

34. I love how Kohaku's hopping easily with at eight bundles of wheat, Chrome is carrying two with one arm, and Senku is using both his arms but is still struggling and walking slower than Chrome with just one bundle XD

35. I really like that they included Kohaku's special attack move question AND animated it a bit! :D

36. Kohaku seriously just loves to, like, all-out brag about Senku and/or science XD She did it in Season One with Kokuyou; in Season Two with Hyoga; and this season with Ryusui earlier AND with Nikki, Yuzuriha, Magma, Taiju, Gen, and Ginro now XD

37. Awesome detail that Yo's farm sign has writing and Magma's farm sign has a sketch of his face :D And even though they're rivals, they seem to be pals too, taking breaks in the afternoon and resting at night together like that :)

38. Yuzuriha has insight into why Taiju is the way he is; Taiju talked about his past... :) And I really like that Gen had his head bowed in honor of Taiju's words :) Also, about the petrification... uh... um... what about the- wait, actually, note to self: talk about this thing in the future when it won't be as spoilery XD

39. Taiju's farm looks so green and plentiful, and Yo and Magma's farms... have a few sprouts? XD Very cool that Taiju remembered what Senku said about seashells all the way from the first part of Season One :D

40. Senku looks proud and happy that Taiju remembered his words, and Magma and Yo look proud and happy that their farms prospered after they did what Taiju did! :)

41. And even though the latter two aren't thrilled about it, they're still in the crowd that gives Taiju the straw hat of the farming/food king! :D I like that Taiju bent his head so that Yuzuriha could put it on him, like he really was being crowned :)

42. Even Senku acknowledged Taiju as the food king! :D

43. Whoa, a couple of seasons passed and the wheat ripened, just like that! :O

44. Also not feeling this ending song, although I do appreciate that there are some English lines. Are the circle thingies related to chemistry, and elements and protons and electrons and stuff? And maybe I'll like it more if I understand the lyrics; I should look them up! :)

45. Sigh, I dislike the lack of Kohaku in the ED, but I do understand, the five wise generals and all that :D

46. Ooh, they have an brick baking oven now! :) Senku's clearly unprofessionally baked bread looks like... that... but Kohaku genuinely likes that it's like a rock and has a fun, crumbly texture :D (Or... stone? Haha! XD) And Chrome and Turquoise and the elderly man who believed in Senku in Season Two like the burnt bread as well! :)

47. Ah, so Ukyo learned that about food in the Self-Defense Force survival exercises... :O And Yo, you do NOT need to be jealous... XD

48. Senku and Ryusui are united in their resolve: They MUST revive a professional chef! :D

49. So ends the first episode about Dr. Stone's Age of Discovery! :) A triumphant arrival in Ishigami Village; reuniting with Kohaku and other old friends; making a new world map; looking for resources; the rediscovery of agriculture; the crowning of the kingdom of science's food king; a bread baking experiment that was very successful for some but not successful at all for others... and a new goal for the latest required skill set for the kingdom of science! :D

50. I'm so glad that I'm finally watching Season Three - my own goal is to finish watching all the available episodes before the second part of the season starts airing in October 2023! :)

https :// fireflyhwufanficwriter . tumblr . com / MyDrStoneEpisodeMangaThoughts

[travelingue]

North Sea Scotland (4): Perth

The previous entry ended with our departure from Dundee, which was ugly and wet.

Perth, a short drive away, was just wet.  The rain eased, revealing the beauty of this old royal burgh.

It occupies a choice spot on the River Tay where it is both easy to cross and tidal, allowing ships to moor.

This, an information panel revealed, made the city a trade hub in the Middle Ages. It was also designated as a "craftis toun" because of its top-quality products.

Glovers, we learned, were the most influential guild in medieval Perth.  The industry naturally attracted tanners.  The panel included a depiction of their quarter circa 1440:

Leather-making apparently involved soaking hides into a mix of urine and dogs' faeces. 

This, I thought, provided interesting historical background to the Spinal Tap album Smell the Glove.

The oldest house in Perth is said to be "Fair Maid's House".  But the inscription "1393"was suspiciously legible.

The plaque said the habitation drew its name from Sir Walter Scott's novel The Fair Maid of Perth - which was published in 1828!

In short the house looked to me as medieval as Deep Purple's Book of Taliesyn album (I don't know why walking in Perth put vintage rock into my head.)

But if you're into faux medieval, nothing beats the real thing: Victorian arts-and-crafts architecture.

Perth has plenty of wonderful specimens.  Many, I noted, have been taken over by the food-and-drink industry.

The above buildings – all from the 1890s – now house Perth's Pizza Express (left), an Indian restaurant (centre) and a pub (right).

The river front is lined with glorious Gothic-revival erections.

The County Buildings (1881, above) initially a natural history museum is now, predictably, a fancy eatery.

My favourite building is the 1840s police HQ (below).

Carved into these stern stones is the inscription: "This house hates knaves, crimes punisheth, preserves the laws and good men honoureth."

Contrast that with the "transformative vision" for Scottish justice set out in 2022 "with a focus on creating safer communities and shifting societal attitudes and circumstances which perpetuate crime and harm".

The Tay, the longest river in Scotland, can be fierce in Perth. In days of old, a panel explained, people dealt with flooding by demolishing damaged structures and building new ones on top until the ground was raised to a safe level.

The above picture was taken from a spot where Perth Castle once stood. It was washed away in 1209.

It was not the last traumatic event to occur at this site.  Dominicans built a monastery on the ruins of the castle. Two centuries later, James I of Scotland died there in unusual circumstances.

James had a habit of dealing ruthlessly with rivals.  But what did for him was not so much his love of power as his love of tennis.   In 1436, he decided to spend Christmas at the monastery.  It had great traveller reviews, as well as an indoor court where he could practice his favourite sport.

Knowing plotters were after him, James familiarised himself with escape routes before settling down for a nice extended holiday.  But there was a problem with the tennis: his balls kept falling down a drain pipe.

The king got so frustrated that he ordered the drain to be blocked.  Three days later his enemies reached the monastery.  He disappeared down a hatch.  The tunnel, however, led to the drain that had been filled with stone.  He was swiftly slaughtered by his pursuers.

Fast forward 122 years.  As a previous post explained, mid-16th century Scotland was ruled by Catholics but ripe for Protestantism.  Knowing which way the wind was blowing, the Calvinist preacher John Knox returned home after 11 years in exile.

In May 1559 he headed to Perth and commandeered St John's Kirk (top image).

From a pulpit surrounded by the paraphernalia of Popish superstition (relics, stained glass windows, painted walls, etc.), Knox inveighed against idolatry.  Whipped into an iconoclastic frenzy, the crowd trashed the church.

The crowds then headed for the Dominican priory and ransacked it.  Perth's three other monasteries – as well all 40 altars in the city - were destroyed in two days of rioting.  Knox went on to repeat the feat at St Andrews cathedral 50 miles away. The Scottish Church fell like a house of cards.

Perth these days is endearingly unthreatening.  During our wanderings we came across a parade.  A crowd cheered as bagpipe players in kilts, aldermen in suits, Scots Guards in Jeeps and Star Warriors in costumes filed past.

Towards the end a brass band played the vintage hit Gimme Some Lovin'.

[notsoinnocentlittleangel]

NAME,   Joanna Noelle Carpenter

NICKNAME,   Jo, JoJo, Red and Fire and "every other redhead nickname you can think of," Hurricane

GENDER, Female

ORIENTATION,   Straight

PREFERRED  PET  NAMES,   "Anything cute"

RELATIONSHIP  STATUS,   Single (Probably)

FAVORITE  CANON  SHIP( S ),  I think Sean Maguire @sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins is the only one she has so far.

FAVORITE  NON-CANON  SHIP( S ),  She started out life as a girlfriend/ex-girlfriend of one of my other characters. She's had a few ships off and on throughout the time of this blog, but nothing really active at the moment.

OPINION  ON  TRUE  LOVE,  Joanna believes it exists, but doesn't really think she's going to get it.

OPINION  ON  LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT,   Sort of. She thinks you'll likely have an intense attraction when you first meet the person you'll fall in love with. She's not quite a believer in the fairy tale aspect of it, though.

HOW  ‘ROMANTIC’  ARE  THEY,  Joanna's a romantic, but she doesn't necessarily do or need big displays of romance. Just show her you love her, tell her she looks pretty, kiss her, cuddle her, grab her butt, do minor things she likes. Maybe let her put on a nice dress for a night out every few months.

IDEAL  PHYSICAL  TRAITS,   Average weight, just a little muscle tone, nice smile, good shoulders

IDEAL  PERSONALITY  TRAITS,  Loyalty, patience, calmness ("I got enough emotions for both of us"). He needs some conviction and backbone. She doesn't want a man to try to control her, but she wants someone who can make decisions and who doesn't just let her walk all over him (see below).

UNATTRACTIVE  PHYSICAL  TRAITS,   Too skinny, too short ("I need a guy who can reach the top shelf") or extremely tall ("I don't want my head to be at his chest level"), too out of shape

UNATTRACTIVE  PERSONALITY  TRAITS,  Boring, a guy who's timid and shows no backbone. She loses respect fast if he's too weak-willed.

IDEAL  DATE,  Joanna's not too picky as long as she likes the guy and has a good time. Get some good food, it doesn't have to be expensive and in fact, she usually prefers it's not, then go out and do something. Though take her to a racetrack and you'll earn a lot of bonus points with her.

DO  THEY  HAVE  A  TYPE,  "Bad boys, apparently." Joanna does usually get with them because of her own lifestyle. She does like a guy with a little bit of mystery and perhaps a slight "edge" to him.

AVERAGE  RELATIONSHIP  LENGTH,  She tends to have a lot of brief flings, but if it does become serious, it usually lasts a while.

PREFERRED  NON-SEXUAL  INTIMACY,   Lots of cuddling, especially when it's colder, something like cuddling on the couch watching TV. Doing a little dancing ("spin me around!"). She likes doing "little things" for each other. She likes cooking for him, but likes it even more if he helps.

COMMITMENT  LEVEL,   It takes Joanna a bit to do so, and she needs to know he's committed to her. But when she does commit, she fully commits. She falls hard and gets very attached.

OPINION  OF  PUBLIC  AFFECTION,   Small displays are great: a kiss, a little cuddling and handholding, pick her up and swing her around when you see her. Nothing like making out in public, though.

PAST  RELATIONSHIPS,   She was married for a few years, married to Charlie Long not long after she graduated high school. It did not end well. As mentioned above, she started as an idea for a girlfriend for one of my other characters on another blog, who she may or may not have a past relationship with depending on the RP. Besides that, she's mostly had several brief flings here and there.

tagged by :  Took it

tagging : All y'all

[sloshed-cinema]

The Wonder (2022)

For most everyone involved in the dark miracle at the center of The Wonder, suffering seems omnipresent and inescapable.  Death of children haunts both the O’Donnell family in rural Ireland and the nurse, Lib Wright, sent as part of the delegation tasked with observing the surviving O’Donnell daughter, who allegedly has not eaten for months.  Even characters in the periphery know this suffering.  The softly megalomaniacal physician Dr McBrearty makes a ritual of lighting candles for his dearly departed wife and children, and all of journalist Will Byrne’s family starved to death while he was pursuing studies across the water in England.  Everyone needs their balms for this, and often these remedies fall short.  Wright doses herself with laudanum each night to avoid dwelling on the deaths of her loved ones, preferring release through oblivion.  The O’Donnells seek salvation in the Almighty, promising themselves that if their children must die, it is for the assurance of eternity in Heaven.  We can all disabuse ourselves of things, but the problem arises when a child’s life is at stake.  Lib finds herself up against multiple authorities, presented as an impartial panel but in fact seeking to prop up pre-determined interests.  Dr McBrearty sees glory in publishing details about a girl able to sustain herself without food as nutrition.  The deeply religious villagers see a new Saint in their midst.  From this vantage point, the horrors of the Irish Famine have made hunger and suffering an essential point of identity, an inescapable part of life, and this girl presents a spiritual triumph over that curse.  It’s easier to create a sacrificial lamb than to own up to mistakes, it would appear.

In a strong cast chockablock with formidable character actors, Kíla Lord Cassidy shines as the flickering, sputtering candle that is Anna O’Donnell.  As Lib investigates this miraculous situation, Anna is a still presence, ever devoted to prayer but otherwise a cipher.  She seems nervous, and it’s unclear what are her motives, if any.  Is there abuse in the family?  Are there undue pressures being placed on her?  What is the source of her commitment to sustaining herself on nothing but this Manna from Heaven?  As familial intervention is removed and malnutrition becomes more apparent, it’s clear that Anna wants an out, but can’t find a way to extricate herself from the situation.  She has genuinely held beliefs about her need to commit to this fast, but also longs for a new start.  Even from all of this suffering, there’s a chance for resurrection, this time in the form of a new family in a new land.  The attraction between Lib and Will is abrupt and out of left field, but perhaps not at the core of the film’s interests.  It serves more a utilitarian purpose.  The film closes on a sumptuous feast aboard a ship bound for Australia, and the true miracle of the story: Anna taking her first voluntary bites.

THE RULES

SIP

Someone names a length of time.

Wright makes a note in her book.

Someone names a country.

Florence Pugh walking with purpose along a country path.

BIG DRINK

Wright doses herself with laudanum.

Long cross-fade in the edit.