#brilliant bc

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“Plane Races to Overtake Head of Doukhobors,” Kingston Whig-Standard. February 2, 1933. Page 1. --- Peter Verigin’s Chief Counsel Seeks to Delay His Deportation to Russia From Halifax ---- VERIGIN AT MONTREAL ---- Aim to complete final Arrangements for Disposition Christian Community Universal Brotherhood a ---- WINNIPEG, Feb. 2. - Racing against time a trim monoplane took off from Stevenson airport here today in a desperate effort to overtake Peter Verigin, overlord of Canadas Doukhobor colonies, who is booked for deportation to Russia from Halifax. Verigin, whose removal from Prince Albert jail was accomplished Monday with great secrecy, arrived at Montreal today, enroute to the Atlantic seaboard.

Aboard the plane, which left here shortly before noon were Peter G. Makaroff, chief counsel to the Doukhobor chieftain, and S. F. Reitin, Verigin’s personal secretary. At Halifax they hope to complete final arrangement! for the disposition of the Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood, and also for Verigin’s personal affairs.

The pursuit plane will connect at Pembina, N.D. with United States Trans-Continental Air Services and speed east to the Atlantic seaboard via Minneapolis, Chicago, New York, and Boston, and then on to Halifax. At Chicago the pair, will be joined by J. P. Shukin, of Brilliant, B.C., vice-president of the Doukhobor Communities and probable successor to Verigin as leader of Doukhobor settlement in Canada. 

To Sail on Friday With twenty-four hours' start, immigration officials plan to reach Halifax Friday evening. Makaroff and his companion, equipped with permission from Hon. W. Gordon, Minister of Immigration, expect to land their plane at the Atlantic seaport Friday. 

Verigin is scheduled to sail from Halifax to Russia, the country of his origin. He was given permission to have leave the Soviet in 1927 on the understanding he would not return. 

Doukhobor leaders were amazed at the speed and secrecy that have closed the drama of Peter Verigin's six years of Doukhobor leadership in Canada. No official Information of the spiriting away of their leader was given Doukhobor aides; Makaroff said before boarding the plane. 

While Pursuit of their leader to seaboard proceeded, Doukhobors of Saskatchewan today gathered in annual convention at Blaine Lake, thirty-five miles northeast of Prince Albert. Police reinforcements grouped on the sidelines to watch proceedings.

[misandriste]

ELOISE BRIDGERTON + being mistaken for a suitor

[neomel]

Hi sorry I need to do some more Pokemon posting bc this is the funniest shit. the cute-looking Pokèmon TCG series is making "TM10" part of its branding. Like, TM10 from the games - its the TM for the move Hidden Power, thats cute! Its reflecting the main character discovering herself in the same way the move works in the game, what a cute little detail!

Except uh. Just one problem.

Game Freak in all their brilliance removed Hidden Power from the franchise four years ago in Generation 8* and its still not able to be used in Scarlet and Violet. Its not just that you cant teach it to Pokèmon anymore, you straight up cannot use the attack even if you trade in Pokèmon from older games who know it. Its like a banned technique.

So then that begs the question – if the TCG show is gonna be referencing TM10 this much, but TM10 *isn't* Hidden Power anymore, surely that means TM10 is another similarly inspiring attack - Stored Power, or Calm Mind, or Smart Strike?

Well, depending on if its Gen 8 or 9, I hope the kids will have fun Discovering Their Own Magical Leaf and/or Discovering Their Own Ice Fang. Truly inspiring words. love how well managed this franchise is

[mythalism]

solas: uwuuu you disrupted my ritual and trapped me!!! now im stuck here and it’s all your fault wahhh poor little old me stuck in the fade in a prison that i designed myself within my realm that i created where im supremely powerful and can “casually reshape reality” with a thought and i have an anchor that lets me open rifts physically in and out of here BUT NOW IM TRAPPED!!!!! 🥺🥺😣😣😰😰

meanwhile solas:

[insanitysilver]

I wish more fanartists would put their work on AO3. Just followed an artist who organizes their work by making a series for Fandom X, and within that, they have multi-chapter works for different ships & gen. Every new chapter is just their latest image for that subject.

It's been so delightful not to have to wade through social media algorithms and endless ads.

[justaz]

im a slut for post magic reveal arthur (& knights) thinking merlin has like. a smidge of magic. like he can get stains out of clothes or warm food and baths but OBVIOUSLY merlin can’t fight. that’s ridiculous. merlin doesn’t correct this notion for whatever reason - perhaps it’s best that people think that so when they’re all in danger, he isn’t registered as a threat so he can protect his silly lil guys. ofc his silly lil guys realize that they were wrong bc the bad guys get a lil too close to hurting arthur and merlin is like “nope! fights over!!” and annihilates them

[sylvielauffeydottir]

i love seeing oppenheimer discourse on this website revolving around how the movie is going to ‘glorify the atomic bomb’ or ‘celebrate war writ large’ bc it honestly makes me think people know literally nothing about who oppenheimer was, what he came to believe, or what happened to him. but go off i guess

[filbuddy3]

Beavis was still crying. He could not understand where Mama had gone, and he could not understand why she had gone. Through his tears, he could see something move. Butt-Head had finally turned his head. It was slight, very slight. But it was enough for their eyes to meet. Comforted by the familiar, Beavis’ wailing turned into hushed sniffles. Butt-Head remained as he was, as still as a baby could possibly be.

“Go on now. Git.” She placed them back down on their blanket right between the couch and the television. She hastily shook a rattle toy above their heads, dropped it, and ambled back to the couch. The toy rolled closest to Butt-Head, who stared at it blankly before he slowly began to reach for it. His fingers locked, he lifted his eyes, then his hand, smacking Beavis in the face with the toy. Comforted by the familiar, Beavis’ sniffles turned into silence, and he began to laugh.

my favoriteee scene from summer 1998 or something by @dappledpaintbrush i think about it so often

[drbtinglecannon]

I'm rewatching Glass Onion after literally just finishing it like you do, and the way that Lionel is supposed to be a brilliant scientist but didn't solve a single piece of the puzzle box himself was such a good detail, I noticed it the first watch but on the second it's got even more depth to it.

He couldn't do anything without following Miles, and Miles was a dumbass. Canonically, a manipulative dumbass. Who so thoroughly whipped an actual clever scientist into being his lapdog that didn't do anything without first being led or prompted.

Duke's mom figured out the box in a simple glance. And the genius scientist needed to be told.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“Next in Line as Doukhobor King,” Ottawa Citizen. February 20, 1933. Page 1. --- Ten-year-old John Verigin above by be named leader of the Doukhobor colonies in Canada, when authorities succeed in deporting his grandfather. Peter Verigin,  ‘king’ of the sect that resorts to nudism. The deportation case is before the courts at Halifax.

[justpassingbyoursht]

Yknow when I first saw Chronos i couldn't quite take him seriously bc he's... he's a twink. who gave him that tiny tiny waist and those birthgiving hips? why is he built like that? i expected a giant or something, i mean the big 3 brothers are built ykno their father should be big muscly guy too right?? and then i realized he's got an hourglass shape and. 😶

my bad supergiant u are right. titan of time. hourglass. titan of time? hourglass. checks out ✓ he is hourglass shaped. an hourglass. ⌛that. that is him. titan of time alright. hourglass

but still that tiny waist

[glitterslag]

ok this is my last one of these. maybe

[skitskatdacat63]

Every time I read Fernando cursing in fic, I can only think about this clip and then my brain short-circuits

[thesherrinfordfacility]

fr they could have picked "and i'd like to spend- hnnnh". they could have picked "shoemaking and obstetrics! those have always been the twin passions of bildad the shuhite!". they could have picked "you mean... a sudden rainstorm... forces them together beneath... a canopy". they could have picked "it's too late now isn't it. it's always too late". they could have picked "do you ever think what's the point". they could even have picked "put on the handcuffs, i'll come quietly". this industry doesn't deserve him

[yeyinde]

NEED A PEICE OF WRITING OF THIS PLS OR IM THROWING A TANTRUM

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS8Nx57NE/

i honestly can't help myself sometimes.

⇾warnings: handjobs, cum-eating. this is pure self-indulgence and based off one particular scene in SIX where the love of my life is called a "big bear."

"That's it," he rumbles, panting. Words broken into gasping grunts, thick with pleasure. You taste scotch on his breath when he sighs; his forehead tipping to rest on yours, eyes burning blue. Smouldering. "Just like—fuck—just like that—"

His cock is hard, aching. Iron covered velvet. You swipe your hand over his leaking head, the back of your knuckle pressing into his frenulum. The groan that leaves his mouth is strangled, aerated. A fractured facsimile of your name slips out. 

God, to see such a man so desperate for you is—

"C'mere."

His beard prickles the soft skin of your lips when he moves in, chasing your mouth. His hands are firm on your thighs, palms fervish and slick with sweat, when he drags your chair closer to his.

"Mm," you purr, his beard catches your teeth instead when you grin. A tease. 

A flash of irritation brims in those crystalline depths when you pull away, denying him what he wants. His chest rumbles, lip curling up into a small snarl. And fuck—

The things this man does to you. 

You're pushing him too far, you think. Holding out a scrap of meat to a starving beast. He'll sink his fangs into your flesh instead if you don't stop. 

(It makes you shudder, liquid heat pooling in your belly.

Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea after all to provoke him a little—)

"You like that, Captain?"

His forehead wrinkles, eyes cresting, heavy with bliss. "Haah, you fuckin' tease—"

It's choked out of him when you slide your palm down to the thick base, giving him a gentle squeeze. The brackish blue in his eyes make you ache. He's close. So, so close. 

But he's a stubborn man, isn't he? He won't go there easily. Not without a fight. 

You just need to push him a little. 

"You gonna cum for me?" You murmur, saccharine sweet. Babydoll demure. Coy. He loves it, doesn it? Loves the way you plead for his cum. 

Price breathes out, and you swallow down the exhale. There is something powerful about watching such a gruff, unbreakable man shatter. 

Your fingers glide over his flesh until his hips lift out of the seat, chasing the white-hot seal of your hand. Your lips press against his, finally giving into his demands. Submissive. Docile. He growls in satisfaction when you meet him in the middle. 

The tickle of his beard feels good against your skin. Your tongue snakes out, catching more of that malt and tobacco taste. 

You stayed away from cigarettes when you were younger to avoid the bitter despair of addiction, and yet—

A huff slips past your lips when his kiss turns sloppy, messy. His attention wanes with each roll and flex of your hand. He lets out a series of breathless, shuddering gasp into your mouth, lips glued clumsily together. It's perfect in its choppy asymmetry.

—you somehow managed to find your own personal brand of nicotine in the rough cut of a man. 

It makes you coo. It's not a push, but a shove. 

"My big bear—"

He throbs, pulsing in your hand like a heartbeat when he cums, a growl of your name spat out into the scant space between you. You feel it vibrate over your lips, coarse hair fluttering with his heavy exhalation. 

You've poked the beast into defeat, and reap your wares in the flutter of his lashes, the molten spurts of his cum drenching your hand. He groans—a bitten, brittle noise that sticks to chest. A broken amalgamation of ahh, fuck and your name. 

(You've never heard a sound more damning.)

His chest heaves as you work him through it, breathing in every heavy exhale that hisses through his clenched teeth until your lungs are filled with nothing but him.

The sag of his shoulders, the divot in his brow all make you quiver. He looks good when he's basking in bliss. 

When he begins to soften, you slip your hand out of his trousers, keeping the molten puddle in the cup of your palm. It's wet, glossy. Covered in thick, milky pearlescent. 

His eyes are fixed on you—hooded and heavy, but you wait. Wait until the haze clears from his cobwebs of bliss that spool over him, geyser white tinged blue.

Price comes to himself rather quickly. Expert soldier, perfectly trained.

His narrowed eye flex, a frisson passing over his dazed expression. He can't stem the possessive shadows in his cerulean gaze when he sees you covered in his release, dripping with it.

He's a gentleman, though, in his own way. 

"Fuckin' hell," his voice is guttural. The crackle of a charred log collapsing under the flames. "Wipe it on my jacket or something—"

You bring it up to your mouth instead, tongue slipping through the mess he made in your palm, and moan a little at the taste of him. Salty. Smoky. A little sour. Price shudders when you lift your head, letting him see his cum smeared across your tongue. 

"What are you doin'—?"

His eyes roll a little, arsenic white in the sapphire sea, when you swallow it down with an audible gulp. 

"Mm," you lean forward, and press your wet lips to his, tongue sliding over the taut seam. "My big bear tastes so good—"

"Get over here—" his hand whips out, locking around your waist. He keeps you prisoner in the seal of his arms, eyes burning blue. "M'gonna hav'ta knock some sense into you, aren't I? A little respect, mm?" 

You scoff into his heaving chest. "Promises, cap."

(This probably isn't what they meant when they told you to support your Captain.)

[soultiio]

how funny it is that you are the first to crack