#gold coast family

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was in Gold Coast, Australia and my mum and I were being driven around by a man who had been missing for 78 years. At the end of the journey, he said to me, “Goodbye. I will never forget you.”

[murdockhawkeye]

this is *maybe* a bit of a stretch but i still find interesting to think about? don't know if i have everything right

but

i feel like with the elemental opposite duos - emma & rikki, cleo & bella - you could reasonably say their arcs'd mirror each other in a way

like

emma and rikki have issues with responsibility/expectations but on opposite ends of the spectrum

emma was a gifted child, everyone had high expectations for her and she tried to meet those expectations the best she could. she’s responsible emma, who makes sure everyone is looked after, and everyone “knew” was going to become a top athlete, because look at all those trophies on her shelf

and then rikki on the other hand, was alone for “her own good.” she admitted to elliot that no one really liked her growing up, so when somebody did, it made her feel weird and she pushed them away. she stayed away from other people, made sure they never had any expectations of her

they both avoided disappointing others, by going to opposite extreme lengths

and then they overcame these issues, with emma facing a sudden change in her life (becoming a mermaid) that meant she had to give up her swimming dreams and disappoint the people in her life (that had to suck for her, honestly.) she had to come to terms with that - but then, she also found a whole new world that she’d never have been a part of, if things had gone the way she planned

and as for rikki - her biggest change wasn't the tail, but becoming friends with emma and cleo. had she'd her way and zane’d never gotten cleo stuck on that boat, she’d never become friends with them. rikki had to learn the hurdles of friendship and of keeping them, like when she mistook the different kinds of fish, when cleo and emma didn't support her relationship with zane, etc. they had their issues - but in the end, they were there for rikki, and rikki was there for them back. she'd have never gotten that kind of solidarity, had things gone the way she thought it would

and then there’s cleo and bella

bella - unfortunately, didn’t have much in terms of development, since the writers prioritized will’s relationship with her over expanding her character background+ for some reason ??

so i'm just mostly going to talk about cleo here first - but i'll get to bella in a second

cleo by s3 is a very confident and self-assured person; but she didn't start out that way. she was insecure, somewhat naive. she grew up overshadowed by her two best friends, the both of them being gifted in their own rights - emma, the young up and rising athlete, and lewis the science genius, they were sure to go places. cleo, on the other hand, was overlooked. she didn't have much going for her - except for adequate grades and a love of the marine life that was hindered by her fear of water

and then cleo became a *literal* mermaid. either she was going to avoid it or overcome it. in the end, she didn't just overcome her fear of water, but she also took a risk by taking that job at the marine park, where she'd be working right by the marine animals. she let her fear control her before, and she wasn't going to let it stop her from wanting to pursue things anymore

(funny, she started out with a fear of water, then became a mermaid. she struggled with her grades, then became a science genius)

bella, much like cleo - had her own issues when it came to the kind of attention she got, but the other way around. her first appearance, she was being catcalled. same ep, nate is drooling over her. they've made her beauty a point throughout s3. even cleo and rikki's brought it up. it. could not have been easy for her to deal with that, especially with her secret in mind

seeing that, even with the different issues when it came to attention, i think they'd still have had the same feelings about it. a younger bella, probably would've been similarly insecure/anxious as cleo had been - until she learned to be more sure about herself and grew into the bella we know and love today

(we should've gotten way more lore and background about bella, agh)

tldr; emma and rikki have same feelings but opposite reactions (people pleasing and people avoiding.) cleo and bella opposite situations but same feelings (overshadowed and center of attention)

yk, rikki was right in a way i think about the "universal law," but like, more about keeping in balance and not about trios. emma and rikki balance each other out, cleo and bella were *meant* to balance each other out. but in s2, bella wasn't there - charlotte was

do i blame the antagonizing of charlotte and cleo's out of characterness on the writers, or do i blame it on some magical semi-canon mermaid universal law about balance

blaming it on a mermaid universal law sounds more fun, and could have interesting implications. (though the writing grates me, still)

[zahra-hydris]

hoping any and all of you who might be in cyclone alfred's path are safe and don't suffer any damages <3

[slidesworthseeing]

Found slide: Early days of the Gold Coast Water Ski Show, Nerang River, Yugambeh Kombumerri Country, Gold Coast, 1959. Photo by a member of the Radford family

[autistickaitovocaloid]

Watching the wiggles dark ride video is so fun I love pointing and going "oh hey i know that thing".

[destinyrvsblog]

https://cairnsdirectory.com.au/business-listings/destiny-rvm

Discover Your Perfect Family Caravan in gold coast with Destiny RVM!

Are you looking for the ultimate adventure with your family? Explore the great outdoors in style with family caravans in gold coast from Destiny RVM! Our caravans are designed with families in mind, providing spacious interiors, comfortable sleeping arrangements, and all the amenities you need for a memorable getaway.

At Destiny RVM, we understand that family time is precious. That’s why our family caravans are built for comfort and practicality, ensuring that your trips are as enjoyable as possible. Whether you’re heading to the stunning beaches, lush national parks, or charming rural towns around gold coast, our caravans will make your journey smooth and enjoyable.

[funthingsfortoddlers]

Whale Watching is a A MUST DO Gold Coast experience.

We had a fun and memorable family adventure cruising to the Humpback Highway with the amazing crew from Spirit of Gold Coast Whale Watching to watch these amazing creatures as they migrated north.

You couldn't be in safer or friendlier hands than booking a whale watching cruise with Spirit of Gold Coast.

Find out more about our family whale watching adventure with Spirit of Gold Coast here: https://l.linklyhq.com/l/1p81N 

#LoveSpiritWhales #whalewatching #whalewatchingtour #whalewatchingseason #whalewatchinggoldcoast #toddleradventures  #toddlersgoldcoast #goldcoasttoddlers #goldcoastfun #whatsongoldcoast #toddleradventure #funthingstodowithkids #funthingsfortoddlers #familyfungoldcoast #familyadventuregoldcoast #familyadventuresgoldcoast #goldcoastfamily

[phoenicianqld]

DISCOVER THE PERFECT BROADBEACH HOLIDAY APARTMENTS AT PHOENICIAN RESORT

In this article, we’ll explore why the Phoenician Resort should be your top choice for accommodation in Broadbeach. From its ideal location to its top-notch facilities, we have all the details you need to start planning the holiday of a lifetime.

[catchasta]

Catch a Star Photography: Capturing Family Moments on the Gold Coast

The world of Catch a Star Photography is where ordinary moments morph into timeless memories. Nestled on the breathtaking Gold Coast, our love for photography goes beyond mere image capture; it's a dedication to encapsulating the very essence of familial bonds and individual personalities.

Join us on an immersive journey through our lens as we delve into the artistry of Family Photography on the Gold Coast and capture captivating headshots against the picturesque backdrop of the Gold Coast.

Family Photography Gold Coast:

There's an enchanting allure to the way families weave together, crafting a tapestry of love, laughter, and shared experiences. We specialize in family photography on the Gold Coast, ensuring every moment is preserved with meticulous care and creative finesse.

Our team is committed to creating a visual story that truly captures your story, whether it is casual family portraits against the famous skyline or candid shots of kids playing on the golden sands.

Our skilled photographers know how important it is to capture genuine moments with family and work tirelessly to do just that. We believe in capturing authentic moments that reflect true connections, whether it is a fun day at the beach or a peaceful day at home. A testament to the love and joy shared within your family, these photographs will last a lifetime.

Headshots of Gold Coast:

In addition to our emphasis on family photography, Catch a Star Photography serves as your premier destination for professional headshots of the Gold Coast. For purposes such as personal branding, professional portfolios, and social media profiles, we understand the critical importance of a captivating headshot in making a lasting impression.

Our professional headshot sessions are designed to bring out your best features, highlighting your individuality while maintaining an air of professionalism. Our photographers skillfully combine artistic license with natural light to create headshots that stand out against the breathtaking Gold Coast landscape.

Headshots taken by a professional photographer will capture your genuine essence and help you stand out from the crowd, whether you are an actor, a business professional, or just looking to update your online profile.

Headshot Photographer on the Gold Coast:

What distinguishes photography is not only our commitment to capturing moments but also the expertise of our skilled Headshot Photographer on the Gold Coast. Our team comprehends the subtleties of professional headshot photography, recognizing that each client possesses distinct needs and aspirations.

Our photographers forge a close bond with clients, fostering a comfortable and collaborative atmosphere during the shoot. We firmly believe that the finest headshots emerge from a genuine connection between the photographer and the subject.

By seamlessly blending technical prowess with a personable approach, our headshot photographer on the Gold Coast brings forth the confidence and authenticity that make your headshots truly remarkable.

In Ending:

Our unwavering commitment to capturing the beauty of family moments and producing headshots of the Gold Coast that have a significant impact is what drives Catch a Star family photography on the Gold Coast. This is what drives us to do what we do today.

We are prepared to make your dreams a reality, whether they involve capturing the joy of a sunny day with your loved ones or seeking professional headshots that represent you. Get in touch with us now and let our photography capture the magic of your most treasured moments set against the breathtaking Gold Coast backdrop.

[indynerdgirl]

On October 7, 2001, the President announced that the United States had begun military action in Afghanistan, launching Operation Enduring Freedom. Now, 22 years later, we are asking for the public's input in the design of a Memorial on our National Mall honoring those who have served and continue to serve in this multigenerational war. Help design history and give your input today.

[cy-cyborg]

Hey, able-bodied folks, if a disabled person is complaining about something being unfair/inaccessible because of our disabilities, you know you don't have to explain to us why that unfairness/inaccessibility a thing, right? Chances are we know it is the way it is. It's still unfair and we still want to talk about it.

I saw a video by an amputee warning other disabled people not to go to Thorpe Park in England, as they paid full price to enter, but were only allowed on 3 rides due to their amputation. This is something I also experienced when I went to the Gold Coast (mostly at Movie World, Wet n' Wild and, to a lesser extent, Dreamworld) and at Lunar Park in Sydney. There were also several others in the comments talking about similar experiences elsewhere.

But among these comments were dozens of people saying, "it's for health and safety reasons! The ride won't be able to hold you in!" And like... yeah, we know why. It doesn't make it any less unfair that we pay the same as you for a fraction of the experience. It doesn't make it feel any less shitty when you scrimp and save to do something like go to a theme park only to have to sit on the side line and watch your friends/family have fun without you. It doesn't make it any less scummy that there's very little warning that this will be the case (most of the time) until you arrive. It doesn't make it any less frustrating that so many recreational and fun activities don't even consider the possibility that disabled people would want to join in.

It's not just this video. It happens a lot. Any time someone complains about inaccessibility, there's always someone there trying to explain why the inaccessibility is there.

A resteraunt or shop isn't accessible? "Have you considered the person just didn't know/didn't have the money to fix it/were renting and weren't allowed to fix it?"

You called to see if some place was accessible, were told it was but when you arrive, it's not? "Have you considered the person didnt actually know/ thought it was and just made a mistake?"

You complain that a device/item/furniture item you bought isn't usable because of your disability despite there being no indication this would be the case before you bought it/no way to further verify it before hand? "Have you considered that disabled people make up such a small minority of their buyers they just didn't realise?"

Yeah, we know. Every single one. We considered it. a lot more than you did, i promise. We know why. We know sometimes mistakes happen, people don't think to consider us, there could be health and safety reasons for the lack of access, that people just don't know, and that it's not usually maliciousness or intentional ableism. I promise, we know all of it. We still need to talk about it though, so things can get better.

[sunshineboulevarddental23]

Keeping Smiles Bright and Healthy: The Importance of a Family Dentist in Gold Coast

Maintaining optimal oral health is crucial for the overall well-being of every family member. From regular check-ups and cleanings to addressing dental concerns and emergencies, having a reliable and experienced family dentist by your side is essential. In Gold Coast, finding a trusted family dentist who can provide comprehensive dental care for all ages is a key step towards ensuring the long-term health and happiness of your family's smiles.

Comprehensive Dental Care for All Ages:

A family dentist in Gold Coast offers a wide range of services tailored to meet the unique dental needs of each family member, regardless of their age or stage of dental development. From toddlers and young children to teenagers, parents, and even grandparents, a family dentist provides a one-stop solution for all your family's oral health needs.

Early Dental Care for Children:

Starting dental visits early is crucial in establishing good oral health habits and preventing future dental issues. A family dentist understands the specific needs of children and creates a friendly and comfortable environment to make their dental experience positive. They provide early dental check-ups, education on proper brushing and flossing techniques, and preventive treatments like sealants and fluoride applications to protect young teeth from decay.

Teenage Dental Care:

Teenagers often face unique dental challenges, such as orthodontic concerns, wisdom teeth eruption, and the need for preventive measures like mouthguards for sports activities. A family dentist in Gold Coast can provide guidance, orthodontic consultations, and necessary treatments to address these specific dental needs and ensure a healthy smile during this transformative stage of life.

Adult Dental Care:

For adults, regular dental check-ups, cleanings, and screenings for oral health issues are essential. Family dentists offer preventive services, such as dental exams, professional cleanings, and oral cancer screenings, to catch any problems early on and maintain optimal oral health. They also provide restorative treatments, such as fillings, crowns, and bridges, to address dental decay or damaged teeth. Cosmetic procedures like teeth whitening or veneers are also available to enhance the appearance of your smile.

Senior Dental Care:

As we age, our dental needs change. Seniors may face challenges like tooth loss, gum disease, or dry mouth. A family dentist in Gold Coast is equipped to address these issues and provide personalized dental care for seniors. They offer denture fittings, implant restorations, periodontal treatments, and solutions for dry mouth to ensure comfort and maintain oral health in the golden years.

A Welcoming and Family-Friendly Environment:

Visiting the dentist can be an anxiety-inducing experience for some, especially children. Family dentists understand these concerns and create a welcoming and friendly environment where every family member feels comfortable. They prioritize patient education, taking the time to explain procedures, answer questions, and address any fears or anxieties.

Building Long-Term Relationships:

One of the significant advantages of having a family dentist Gold Coast is the opportunity to build long-term relationships based on trust and familiarity. Your family dentist becomes familiar with your dental history, understands your unique needs, and can provide personalized care tailored to your family's oral health goals.

A family dentist plays a vital role in maintaining the oral health and smiles of every family member. With their comprehensive range of services, experience, and dedication to patient care, a family dentist in Gold Coast ensures that your family receives the highest quality dental care at every stage of life. By establishing a long-term relationship with a family dentist, you're taking a proactive step towards achieving and maintaining optimal oral health for your entire family.

Invest in your family's oral health today by scheduling an appointment with a trusted family dentist in Gold Coast. Together, you can embark on a journey towards bright, healthy, and beautiful smiles that will last a lifetime.

[drgnflyteabox]

red ochre [1]

series masterlist part one -> minium || part two -> woad and weld

> summary: you become the unlikely treasure of two vikings who raid your convent looking for gold > tags/warnings: religious themes (DLDR), minor suicidal ideation, mention of viking raids (slavery, violence, death), kidnapping, threats, dubcon bathing + touching, mean simon (ish), established goap, reader is underfed and beaten in the convent (corporal punishment), difficult travel, some food description

Near the coast the wind scratches at you when it blows, full of sand and salt.

Once, you'd imagined this as your calling; committed to asceticism, married to God, serving under the abbess. Enclosed, you find yourself stifled more than devoted, pressing your face to the stone barrier that blocks the convent from the outside world.

Isolation, never being quite full, the slow and steady stripping of your identity. This is your life - hollowed out, like meat sucked from a crab, cracked open and used and hollow.

You couldn't have predicted Christ to be such an inconsiderate husband.

"Girl!" the voice is the crack of a whip in empty air. You don't jump, but the hair on your body raises, the welts on your thighs sting.

"Yes, mother?" you put your chin down to your chest, turning, pressing your back to the wall. Demure, submissive, utterly devoid of fight. And still, her grip finds you hard as iron and rough as the rock you'd just been touching, pulling you hard enough to make your shoulder ache back toward the heavy wood doors of the dormitory.

"You shirk your duties again, child? Leave your sisters to pick up your slack?" you didn't mean to, truly. It's only that you ache so deeply you're afraid you might never recover from the feeling.

"Please forgive me, mother, I lost track of time," you murmur. Your uniform is damp from the spray outside, and you relish in the scent and feel of it. Freedom, that's what it is. "Allow me to make up for-"

"Hush!" spit touches your cheek. You don't wipe it away. "You'll finish the tapestry tonight. No matter how long it takes you."

Desperately, you wish for God to strike you down. If you're there, father. You close your eyes. Please, please kill me now.

He doesn't listen, and the abbess pushes you to supper.

Dark bread, boiled turnips, fish and wine. Average, filling, but you'd hoped for more of the crumbly white cheese from yesterdays supper.

You know not to complain. And truly, you are grateful. With your family, it had been gruel upon gruel, often bear, and rarely flavour. Salt kisses your tongue now, and the wine makes your sore muscles relax.

The monks have it harder; you'd visited them once as a girl with your father to pray, but there was still labour to be done here. Cooking was often your job, as was doing the washing and the tilling for the vegetable garden.

Today sister Colette had assigned you weaving so that you wouldn't be out of practice. The muscles in your back and fingers ached from it already, and dread made your stomach sour to the food you ate at the thought of more work.

Mealtimes were quiet, as required. The other women eat mousily, looking down at their plates and pulling their food apart into small little bites, trying to make it last. Obedience, poverty. How silly it was now that you'd dreamed of this.

"Sister?" a whisper, next to you. Margaret was almost a friend, too pious to really confide in but so kind it was impossible to ignore her. "What were you doing?"

"I felt compelled," you shrug, lips oily from the fish. "I felt confined."

"Oh sister," Margaret pushes her bottom lip out, dark eyebrows pulling up. "You should never feel confined here."

You knew, and yet you did. It was like living in a stone coffin. All the work felt pointless since your heart had strayed from God. Even now, touching Margaret's elbow to comfort her in her worry for you, you're sick to death of even clearing plates.

There was one secret they hadn't found. None of the sisters, not even the abbess, had found your secret booklet.

Paper was more valuable than gold since the church needed so much to copy and produce texts. The writing room at the very top of the convent, where you were so seldomly asked, was full of it and guarded by lock and key.

Over months, you'd scrounged, stealing enough to make a booklet. In it, you felt sustained. Free. Titillated, sometimes, when your hand found its way beneath your soft worn blanket under your shift and you drew indecent drawings of men coming to save you. Of the farmboys from your village.

They were nothing like real art, not so detailed, but they lit inside you a spark of life. Without them, you'd be snuffed out.

Candles line the hallway toward the workroom, where you'll likely spend the rest of the night. It's near the very entrance of the convent, so that visitors may see the sisters hard at work and find reason to donate.

Really, it's a temptation. Those massive doors, ready to open and let you free.

But what could you do, really? If God were a kind man and Christ a good husband, they'd turn you into a horse so that you might run, might feel your hooves beating the earth and the coarse air on your skin.

Regrettably human, you sit to work on the tapestry. Curse the abbess and let the holy father hear your thoughts. This is worse than hell, you think. Your fingers cramp and the chair is hard, flat wood. It's made to be uncomfortable on purpose, everything is. After you finish you only have a thin mattress to look forward to, even thoughts of drawing hunky carpenters doesn't draw you out of the misery that is embroidery in the dark.

Is this string strong enough to hold you, should you hang yourself? You're being dramatic, but you feel you've earned the right.

Footsteps walk down the hall towards you. They're sure, heavy. Maybe sister Catharine, tall and splendid, is coming to release you from torment?

"Hello," you say jovially. Please be sister Catharine.

"Look what we've got here, Ghost," it's a male voice. You freeze. The accent is unfamiliar. Had you missed the visit of a monk, an abbot, a priest? "Darlin' little lass, all by herself."

Shivers overtake you. It hurts to straighten from your hunched position, but you have to do it to see properly.

You come face to face with a skull, towering over you from the doorway.

A scream builds, filling your chest, hanging off the tip of your tongue.

Stopped only by the glint of candlelight against a blade, and the quickness of the another man reaching you.

You shake, all sound stuck in your throat, feeling arms as strong as petrified wood circle your arms and pull you toward the door. The pressure, the scrape of rock against your feet, it's unreal and barely registered against the terror that builds when you look to your left and see the skull, sewn into cloth, with the soft clank of bones hanging from his waist.

His eyes find yours, dead and mellow in the eyesockets, piercing through you. Blood rushes through your ears, deafening you, until you leave the room and reality sets in.

Devils, come to sack the convent.

Who will likely kill you and all your sisters. Even the abbess, with her punishment cane and severe face, doesn't deserve that.

You shriek, finding your voice, twisting like a cat in a bag. Their hands tighten against you, growling orders at you to be still, girl.

It's then that you hear the cries, the crashes. Sounds of chaos, a cacophony of harsh voices and the search of the convent. Some of the women weep, some pray, you scream.

"Hey!" Skull snaps, shaking you hard. "Behave and we won't kill you." You comprehend that, but the animal urge to struggle for your life still has a grip on you.

The other man twists towards you, lips snarling. "Ye want to die, then? I'm not opposed to slitting ye open throat to cunt, if that's what ye prefer."

You still, sag, mouth turning downwards in misery. Sweat sticks to your skin, from fear and exertion.

"Good girl," Skull says.

The nuns have been crowded back into the dining room, cowed and cowering, trembling lambs against the storm of awful armoured men ravaging the sanctity of the space.

Some have already found gold, crosses and busts of saints and reliquaries. The abbess weeps to see the bust of Mother Mary, thrown so roughly to the ground that baby Jesus snaps off.

You watch it all happening, eyes wide, shaking despite yourself. Adrenaline makes your legs cramp in their position, curled, back to back with another sister.

"Cap," a younger man runs up, hands full with an ornate chest. "What'cha think of this one?"

"Lookit this one," the man from earlier is giddy, slapping the young one on the back. He holds St Augustine, gilded in gold and jewels. "Not too shabby, eh, Gaz?"

"Not too shabby at all," Gaz grins back at him, turning towards the third man.

"Good job, boys," he says. He's mustached, tall, steadier and calmer than the rest. A leader, clearly.

It smells of smoke, or blood, but you can't see anyone bleeding.

Maybe that's their natural scent, violence clinging to them cloying like they'd bathed in it before coming.

"Soap," Gaz calls. He's run through the library, tossing shelves to the ground, taking one or two books. Walked through the dormitories, throwing open the chests at the ends of each bed. "Take a look at this one!"

A little booklet. Your booklet, tiny in the hand of the devil.

Anxiety crawls up your spine. There's no way they'd know it was yours, but you're still afraid of another kind of raiding, should they discover your sin.

The men laugh, looking with hungry eyes, glinting, mouths stretched and wet.

Look at the ground, be quiet, be still. You want to survive, you want to draw again and feel the air against your skin. You're scared of these men, huge and muscled as they are.

They wear furs, leather, clinking chainmail, wrapped shoes. Weapons hang by their sides and are clutched firmly in hands, though no nuns nor abbesses have been harmed.

Yet.

"Gold ain't the only treasure, eh?" Soap looks down at you while others use pillowcases for bags, stuffing their bounty inside with loud clangs.

His foot nudges your thigh, and you shift away as much as possible, still looking away, still scared.

Skull comes back. Soap calls him over and calls him Ghost, so you switch the name in your head.

Ghost is big, but he glides through the air.

"See that, Ghost?" Soap nudges him, the way he nudged you. Eyes crazed.

"Mm," Ghost grunts. He hasn't looted, not like the others. Just walked through the halls and gathered one or two other stray nuns shuddering in various corners. "You want 'er?"

You blanch, breath leaving you.

"Can we?" He looks back at you and leans down, thick fingers finding your chin, tilting your face up. "Pretty little hen, so scared, aren't ye?"

"Take 'er."

With Ghosts permission, Soap moves his fingers from your face to the meat of your arms, dragging you up, using your stupor to help him.

"Dinnae worry, hen, we'll take good care of ye," it's not reassuring. You think you feel your knees hitting each other from the force of your shaking. "Awe, don't cry."

Two rivers have sprouted form your eyes, tracking searing hot salt down your cheeks, hands twisting in your habit.

The men regroup. You were right about the mustached man being a leader, and learn his name is Price. He commands them like any armyman you've ever seen, clearly holds a lot of authority.

You're the only nun that's a part of the spoils.

The only one tied with coarse rope around the wrists, chafing, tossed between Soap and Gaz through the convent until you reach those big wooden doors.

Those doors you'd dreamed about opening, those doors that you dread opening now.

"Keep walking," Gaz says. He's mellower than the others, but you'd be a fool to underestimate him.

Or ask him for help.

Reality hasn't set. You're in purgatory, stumbling across the wet grass in just wool socks, growing wetter by the minute from mist and dew. The men hoot and cheer and clank their gold, throwing fists and weapons in the air.

A bloodless victory, unless they change their mind and decide to kill you.

Soap jumps, accidentally pulling you forward in a jerk that brings you to your knees. The tears come back, and the pebbles nearing the beach digging into your knees makes you sob.

"Careful!" Ghost barks. Behind you, he reaches under your armpits and helps you up. His hands are still rough, but he lets go of you quickly to yank the rope out of Soaps hands. It doesn't help that it's still near-pitch outside, not yet morning, hard to see.

"Ach," he rubs a hand behind his head, watching you cry and walk like a deadwoman. "Got a little over-excited, darlin. Forgive me."

"I'll be better to ye, don't worry," he falls in beside you, using a knuckle to brush away your tears.

When you reach the beach, you see a few boats, supplies, but that's all. No camp, nowhere to sleep. Did they jump straight from the boats, marching up the hill to the convent to pillage?

God, they're so big. Warriors. Why just you?

"Right," Price calls them to attention. You're stuck next to Ghost, sniffling, shivering a little, praying mentally for the first time in a long time. Dear God, please help me, please strike these men dead and let me run back up the hill.

You miss what Price says, whispering under your breath with your eyes closed and palms together until Ghost puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes you forward again.

"Walk, then get on the boat," his voice is a growl.

"Dinnae worry," Soap chips in. "We brought meat."

They did - dried fish hangs like your laundry across each boats. The gold is loaded alongside you, stuffed to one side, and you're left trying to avoid the men tossing things in your direction.

Ghost ties your wrists to a wooden loop on the side of the boat.

It was built for this. For prisoners, slaves, taken in conquest.

"Ready?"

"Ready!"

Price shouts, the men answer. It's loud, a cacophony of voices and waves and the scrape of the boat against the sand.

You're going, going, gone. Floating. Adrift. Tied to the side of a viking ship with nothing but your thick, woolen habit and woolen socks. At least they provide some warmth, the air colder over the water.

Eyes look you up and down, not just from the two that took you. Gaz smiles to himself and punches Soap in the thigh, then they play wrestle.

You wonder what will happen to you- are you being taken as a slave? A prize?

The positive side to your time spend as a nun is that you know how to work, and you know that if something awful happens, you could find a way to meet God early and put yourself down.

Blood rushes in your ears again.

You register from somewhere outside of yourself that you're panicking again, caught wanting to run and having nowhere to do it. Tied down.

A hand touches your nape, and you turn with wild eyes and desperation all over your face to Ghost.

"Take a breath," he says, low enough that only you hear it, firm and commanding. "In and out, girl. Do it."

You do, if only to save yourself passing out. In and out, in and out, you breathe.

"That's it," he leans down, brown eyes finding yours. The skull is bleached yellow, old, but you try to ignore it. "You're alright."

"No I'm not," you shock the both of you by speaking, voice high and wavering. "I'm not, you're going to kill me or worse-"

"You think we'd take you just to kill you?"

"You're a heathen, aren't you?" you gasp again, wiping your face on the fabric of your sleeves. "Sister Catharine says heathens sacrifice virgins. Please don't."

He startles you by laughing, a ragged thing ripped from his chest.

"Not gonna sacrifice you, lamb," his hand squeeze your nape, his thumb rubbing the edge of your jaw where he can reach. "Gonna be a long journey, you'd better settle now."

It's hell. You were mistaken before, and you'd do anything now to go back to embroidery. You'd let the abbess cane you bloody, you'd kneel and pray with the passion of Christ himself if it meant you could come off the boat.

The boat, the men. The godforsaken fish, too-salty, not much better than the biscuits Soap insists on feeding you by hand.

"Your hands are tied, pretty lamb, how are ye gonna feed yourself?" He breaks it up, wiping crumbs from your cheeks.

You hope Ghost will step in, but he doesn't. He watches, a specter, still wearing that mask on his face. You wonder if it's because of you, or if he's just like that. Private, hidden. Intimidating.

"Open wide," Soap seems fond of holding your face, squishing your cheeks and puckering your lips. He's extra zealous since catching a sea-bird, keen on making you taste it.

The thought makes your stomach roil, despite being sick of the fish and biscuits. You turn your face, trying to avoid him, whimpering when he squeezes a little too hard.

"Come on, hen," he leans closer. "Fresh meat is good, no?"

"Johnny", Ghost saves you again, finally. Pulls on Johnny's shirt until he's sitting back on his heels. "Let her be."

"Awe, just wanna giv'er my catch, Si," if a heathenish, kidnapping devil could whine and pout like a child, it would look like this.

Horrific, is what it is. You tuck your face into your elbow and close your eyes.

You've been doing that most of the journey, closing your eyes and breathing deeply like Ghost taught you. Or Simon, what you've heard Johnny calling him.

Dread sneaks in every once in a while, wakes you up from fitful sleeps or seizes your ability to speak. Nobody else has spoken to you, not even Gaz who keeps glancing at you. Nobody but Simon and Johnny.

"Here," Simon says. You look up.

In his hand, an apple. Your eyes go wide, prickling, and you look even further up to him.

His eyes reveal nothing. Brown, flat.

"For me?" you ask.

"You see me offering it to anyone else?" from the corner of your eye, Soap is staring at you, smiling.

"I can have it?" an apple. You could dance. Days and days of travel after living in the same town and then the same convent to taken by force on a boar. An apple.

"Take it before I give it to Johnny," he grunts.

Suddenly, you feel a kinship with Eve.

Seasickness luckily doesn't affect you, and the melancholy is kept at bay by the apple. You think of it when you think you can't take anymore, remembering it's sweetness.

Simon becomes the safest person, and often if you feel scared your eyes find him.

When a minor storm rocks the boat, pelting rain, waves beating against the front, you tuck yourself close to his side and let Johnny take your hands into his.

Too easy to lean into them, to accept Johnny wiping your face gently with a cloth and eat fresh fish from Simons fingers. You're exhausted, and Simon doesn't push.

He just remains steadfast against chaos, even when Johnny fights with another one of the men and he has to pull them apart by their shirts.

"Si'down!" he barks, the loudest you've ever heard him. It makes you flinch, hiding again, until he sits heavily down beside you and you scoot as close as possible again.

"Not the smartest, are you?" he looks down. That hurts. You're just scared, is all. "Doesn't matter who's there, you'd cling right to them, wouldn't you?"

No, you want to say. But you just hide your face in your arms and cry again. You want to tell him the apple was special, that you know nobody else has one or got one, but you don't.

Your heart beats hard against your ribcage, that dread coming back again, feeling heavy and small under the weight of your predicament and his judgment.

"He didnae mean it," Johnny croons. He strokes your hair away from your face, thumbs finding your tense brows and smoothing them out. "We know you're a good girl. S'why we took ye."

You sniffle. The rocking of the boat has become both maddening and soothing.

You wonder when this journey will end.

Your clothes are stiff with salt, wetted and dried and re-wetted. Your skin itches, wrists burning, welts unhealed from before when the abbess has caught you sneaking mead.

She had accused you of indulgence, of trying to get drunk. Truthfully, you'd just liked the taste of honey and missed it.

Nuns didn't eat honey, at least not there. Cheese and wine were already over the top, God forbid anyone ate anything sweet. That's why you loved the apple, had held each bite long on your tongue, letting the sugars sit there a moment to savor them.

"Hey," someone nudges you, bringing you out of your half-sleep. Easier to be less conscious, less aware, trying not to feel your anguish and your physical pain. "Come on, get up. We're here."

"Hmm?" You're so tired, hissing and whimpering when your wrists are jostled.

Untied. They're being untired. Your head lifts too quickly, making you dizzy. Gaz is squatting in front of you, holding your leash.

"You awake?" he squints, tilting his head. "You look rough, sorry 'bout that. You good to stand?"

Too many questions. You're forced to lean on him heavily to try to stand. He's as solid as the others, just leaner. Kinder, honestly, as he mostly carries you off the longboat.

Muscles like a new foal, you take a seat on the soft wet sand and slump onto a crate. It's a struggle to walk on solid ground.

Men move around you, dumping and lifting and talking. Less excited than the last time they were on the beach, but there's still a buzz aflutter.

"Can I bring'er up?" Johnny is looking at you, his hand on Simon's forearm. Their affection is the quiet kind, something you only noticed the last couple days of the journey. Small touches, murmurs.

"Go ahead," Simon touches him back, moving towards Price when Johnny comes towards you.

"Awe, lamb," he coos, hauling you up with an arm around his shoulder. His other arm goes to hold your waist, squeezing. "Dinnae worry, I'll get ye in a bath soon 'nough."

He's not lying - after a painful, difficult walk, you make it to a wooden cabin. Looking around, there are a few of similar make, a little town.

"Go on in then, sweet hen," he pushes you just enough for you to shuffle your feet in the door.

Modest wooden furniture greets you, a one-room house with a large bed, fireplace, and table. The rest is beyond you once you spot the tub.

"Sit, let me get it ready for ye."

You nearly fall asleep, or maybe you do, because when you open your eyes Johnny has steaming water filled to halfway in the tub, wooden slats fragrant. He's crumbling a dried flower in as well, humming to himself.

"Alright, s'ready," he helps you up again. Modesty is forgotten, you're too tired and weary to care when he slips the woolen habit off and leaves you in a plain shift, finally untying your wrists. "Pretty girl." He says it under his breath, like he can't help it.

The water is better than the apple. You hiss when it touches your wounds, your sore muscles.

You're tired to your marrow, could weep about it, eyes still opening and closing. Around you, Johnny searches through various bags and chests until he finds a bar of soap.

The soap is better than the water.

"Feels good?" he whispers, dipping his hands in and lathering up. How he's up and about, you have no idea. Even his hands near your bare breasts don't phase you - that's how wiped you are.

"S'good," you mumble. "Thought I ws'gonna die."

"We wouldn't've let that happen, sweet girl. Too precious, our treasure," a kiss, on your shoulder. He rubs the soap on your skin, your arms and down to your fingers, washing them each one by one.

"N'ver want to do that again," and then, because you forget he's your captor. "Please."

The attention is soft, patient. The soap washes away salt and dirt and sweat, even tears when he wipes your face with a rag. This is a second baptism, a better one, with gentle hands massaging your scalp and the barest brush against your nipples.

"Sit up," he pushes you forward, rinses your hair, washes your back while you're there.

The rag swipes over your cunt when he gets there, once, twice, eyes boring into you. Your exhaustion mutes the squeeze of anxiety in your chest, closing your eyes to avoid his gaze.

"Right, all done," he helps you back out and into a long, thin shift.

The bed is soft, so soft, covered in furs and actually stuffed enough to cradle your body. You sink into it immediately, just barely registering the door opening again.

"She asleep?" It's Simon, carrying luggage.

"Aye," Johnny says. You hear them kiss, wondering if they think you're asleep. "Anything else?"

"No," he's gruff, to-the-point. Drops bags in the corner with a clank and a chest by the door with a thud. "She give you trouble?"

"Sweet as a lamb, our girl," he sounds proud.

You open your eyes, one last attempt at self-preservation, and see them looking down at you.

Simon swipes a thumb over your cheek, under your eye, still wearing the skull.

"It's alright, go to sleep," he murmurs. Johnny leans his head on Simons shoulder. "Perfect girl, knew we did good takin' you."

[makingqueerhistory]

"To do the work of suggesting how and why sexuality matters in a discussion of family and kinship, we reached out to community members to collect personal stories from queer Chicagoans for the section’s main video. We conducted inter- views with a wide array of people, but the most controversial interview came from Chuck Renslow, the founder of leather culture in Chicago. Renslow established the country’s irst leather bar, the Gold Coast, in Chicago in 1958. Over the course of a ninety-minute interview Renslow talked about the origins of leather in Chicago and how the city served as a mecca for people who integrated leather products into their sexual practices. He also described the dynamics of dominant and passive relation- ships and their role in leather-based sexual practice. Renslow talked about the use of the terms “leather daddy” to refer to the dominant partner and “boy,” not “son,” to refer to the passive partner. The distinction between boy and son was incred ibly signiicant, according to Renslow, because the terminology resisted the baseless attack that leather men were incestuous or pedophilic. Renslow spent a good deal of time explaining that leather people grounded their sexual practice in consent among adults, and described multiple relationships that encircled long-term ones, exempliied by his forty-three-year relationship with his partner, Dom Orejudos. He expressed a sense of family based on shared sexual and social practices. It became quite clear that Renslow belonged in the family section of the exhibition, but that he spoke about family in ways that might be anathema to many visitors, LGBT or straight, and therefore needed to play a critical role in how we curated this section. Trillium Productions, our video collaborators, produced a two- and-a-half-minute version of the interview that brought tears to our eyes with its poignancy. It began with the premise that while leather practices were often deemed immoral and illegal, they were in fact grounded in a deep and abiding respect for ideas that exist at the basis of our legal system — namely that adults, whether they refer to themselves as leather daddies or boys, can consent to one another. The museum’s leadership demanded that Renslow’s description of leather daddies and boys be removed for fear that people would deem Renslow a “pedophile.” While we tried to explain that this was precisely what Renslow struggled against, and that the presumption was based on a myth that gay men were predators and perpetrators of sexual violence against children, we failed to convince the leadership that our visitors would see the piece as we hoped they would. The vignette was reedited and the ref- erence to boys was removed, along with images that represented Renslow’s family as he described it. In the piece that appears in the gallery, alongside eleven other stories from LGBT Chicagoans, Renslow names himself a “leather daddy” but does not identify as a dominant or top, or call the men he cared for “boys.” Despite our serious concerns about the editing of Renslow’s testimony, the results bore out the leadership’s decision to change the content. Visitors, whether LGBT or straight, consistently report that Renslow’s piece is one of the most powerful and thought-provoking stories in the entire show and has fundamentally altered their sense of what family means."

-When the Erotic Becomes Illicit Struggles over Displaying Queer History at a Mainstream Museum, Jill Austin, Jennifer Brier, Jessica Herczeg-Konecny, and Anne Parsons

[savvyfoxaus]

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