#gullane

[pershing100]

East Lothian coastline between Aberlady and Gullane

[theratking21]

Gullane

Gullane works for Black Eyes with his twin brother, Hughes they work as a perfect duo and they are known as the strongest duo in Black Eye's Crew Gullane's Soul ability is called Spearhead

[historycompany]

The prisoners of war who made it back home

The prisoners of war who made it back home

Think twice about throwing out that old book – the one you picked up yonks ago in a library sale. It can have its uses….in this case shedding light on the leader of the first Luftwaffe raid over Britain. The attack on October 16, 1939 by Junkers 88 dive bombers on Royal Navy ships in Rosyth was led by Hauptmann Helmut Pohle. After dropping his bombs on HMS Southampton, he was pursued by…

[dance-world]

Samuel Rodriguez, Fernando Martín-Gullans, Chun Wai Chan, Harper Watters

[lovelyballetandmore]

Elivelton Tomazi | Neal Burks | Christopher Gray | Fernando Martín-Gullans | Houston Ballet

[clarkkantagain]

fernando martin gullans

[masterj]

Anything after Hero Of The Rails I don't count canon to the model series.

[weirdwriter69]

He juju’s on that beat

[howardduck1490]

Thomas And The Magic Railroad Banner

This is something in honor of Thomas And The Magic Railroad's 23rd Anniversary back on July, 26th of this year

[pellemedsvans]

HÄR HAR VI HENNE!!!

andra headcannons:

- på kvällarna har hennes salong en hemlig hbtq meetup med Måns, Maja, Pelle och några andra gay katter i området. Dem är en ganska stark kompisgrupp

- lyssnar förmodligen mycket på klassisk och opera musik, kan inte riktigt säga varför bara en vibe liksom

- Gullan träffade måns via hennes salong. Efter det blev dem typ bästisar. Det gick konstant runt gay och lesbiska rykten om dem och för varandras säkerhet så blev dem ihop för att tysta det litegrann

- hon försöker sitt bästa att stötta Måns under sina tuffa tider och depressiva episoder. Dem känner varandra bättre en någon annan

- efter Måns får terapi och saker löser sig med han och Pelle försöker hon ABSOLUT spela matchmaker och får dem att gå på dejter

[maureen2musings]

Gullane Point, Aberlady, Scotland

Pete Walls

[pershing100]

East Lothian coastline between Aberlady and Gullane

[nosasblog]

Skeletons under the Floorboards: A Multiple Iron Age  Burial in Applecross

by Cathy Dagg The Background In July of 2015 workmen renovating an old house in Applecross reported finding a human skull under the kitchen floor. They had, apparently, found other bones and thinking them to be animal, chucked them out. The skull initially looked like a cobble, similar to the cobbles that made the former storm beach that the house had been built on, but when it proved to be…

[dance-world]

Fernando Martín-Gullans

[sgiandubh]

Anon rebelde.

Muy buenas noticias para los negocios de Sam. Su asociación con una estrella Michelin para su ginebra y su whisky es todo un acierto. Restaurantes de nivel superior con clientela selecta que pueden apreciar la bebida sin la sobreetiqueta OL

Dear (returning) Anon Rebelde,

Siempre es un placer leer tus preguntas/comentarios. Y gracias por venir aquí tal como eres, en tu idioma nativo: ¡esta página se enorgullece de recibir a todos los shippers con los brazos abiertos, en cualquier momento!

Y ahora, por tu pregunta, que en realidad es un comentario, muy bienvenido:

'Some very good news for Sam's business ventures. His partnership with a Michelin star for his gin and whisky: now, that's quite something. High-level restaurants, with a select clientele who can appreciate his spirits without associating them to OL.'

Yes. These are very good news, indeed. As far as I could check tonight, the gin is still not on the online menus of any of the four venues Kitchin owns in Scotland (The Kitchin, the Scran & Scallie gastropub, Bruntsfield restaurant KORA and The Bonnie Badger Inn in Gullane). However, the whisky is, except for KORA - with a rather steep price tag and exclusively served at the bar:

At least two of these are on a personal to-dine list and I whistled in awe at the spectacular French wine selection of The Bonnie Badger. On the UK's hospitality scene, Tom Kitchin is a bit of a superstar, since 2007, when he got his first (and, to date, only) Michelin star at just 29 years old - youngest chef ever to get it, worldwide - and after being in business for just about 6 months. That also means he's somewhat controversial, being accused of digging in the staff's tip box from time to time or shouting and banging pots and pans - the usual cantankerous demeanor of a true hands-on chef, a notoriously demanding job. He can't be worse than Marco Pierre White, though (whose memoir, Devil in the Kitchen, I warmly recommend, by the way).

That being said for pure context, I am over the moon for S. Great job and so well deserved! As for OL, well: I found it very interesting that the farther we go away from the EDI flagship restaurant, the less relevant and present it is -"in collaboration with SH from OL" at The Kitchin, then 'The Sassenach by SH' at the gastropub (EDI aswell) and then just 'The Sassenach' at the inn (coastal village). And that, Anon, is a very clever strategy: it means the locals will appreciate it for what it really is - a probably excellent blend.

Grandma's bragging about his 500-ish bottles first white label bourbon batch sounds ridiculous, when compared to this:

Eres siempre la bienvenida, Anon Rebelde!

[shadowtriovibes]

break a sweat: prologue

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Chapter Rating: G [Fic Rating: E]

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: Sebastian Sallow was seven years old the first time he rode a broom.

i'm officially launching my rewrite of the "break a sweat" series as a multichapter fic! please enjoy this new prologue, which sees sebastian receive his first broom.

AO3 permalink: break a sweat

November 7, 1881

Sebastian Sallow was seven years old the first time he rode a broom.

He awoke on the morning of his birthday as he did most days, tucked inside the cozy warmth of the Sallow family’s coastal cottage.

November had arrived in the Highlands, which surely meant that winter was just around the corner. But that morning, the sun shone brightly over the rocky shoreline and the powerful gusts of wind with which Sebastian had become intimately familiar seemed to be holding themselves back.

It was almost as if the wind itself knew that this day was special – that one young boy would soon be meeting one of the greatest loves of his life: flight.

—

Albert and Margeret Sallow had left London with their young children in 1877. The family settled near the Firth of Forth in Ivanbreck, a small wizarding hamlet just outside the Muggle town of Gullane and not more than thirty kilometers from Edinburgh.

Four years later, the children had grown into curious, restless young things whose minds seemed to wander past the walls of their family home and out across the hills and valleys that lined the winding road toward Hogwarts.

Still without their own magic, the twins spent most of their days at their mother’s knee reading books well beyond their years about the study of magic. Sebastian and Anne were both desperate to start school, much to their parents’ bittersweet delight.

When Sebastian blinked awake the morning of this seventh birthday, the first thing he thought to himself was Only four more birthdays until Hogwarts.

Sebastian and Anne tumbled downstairs like a pair of drunken nifflers, slipping and sliding in their thick woolen socks toward the kitchen, where the smell of rich breakfast foods called them in like a siren’s song.

“Mummy!” Anne called out happily, skidding into her mother’s open arms. “It’s our birthday!”

Sebastian nearly collided with the dining table, only to be spared when his father snagged him by the sleeve of his pajamas and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Happy birthday, son,” Albert murmured into his sleep-mussed hair.

Then his mother hugged him as well, pressing seven kisses to each of Sebastian’s cheeks while he giggled delightedly.

“You two are getting so big,” Margeret crooned. “Seven years old, I can hardly believe it!”

“Go on, Maggie, let the boy breathe,” Albert laughed.

His mother had prepared a special breakfast with all the family’s favorites: thick-sliced bacon, oat porridge, juicy sausages, toasted oat bread, and, perhaps most importantly to Sebastian, a basket full of warm tattie scones.

“Make sure you have plenty to eat,” Albert said, winking across the table at his wife. “You’ll be needing your energy this afternoon.”

Sebastian squirmed with excitement throughout the meal as he wondered what his parents had in store for him and his sister. Birthdays were sacred to the Sallow family, and he’d never had one that was anything less than spectacular. (Of course, he could only remember a handful of birthdays at such a tender age).

Would they be going into the city to see the Muggle museum? Or perhaps Diagon Alley to get some new books… Maybe, he thought, just maybe they’ll get to see Hogwarts.

But instead of instructing the twins to get dressed and put on their traveling cloaks, Albert and Margeret simply took their children’s hands and guided them to the sitting room.

Resting on the low table by the fireplace were two long, thin packages wrapped in brown parcel paper and tied up with string. Each package had a small tag hanging from the narrower end: one marked with an S and the other with an A.

Sebastian felt his fingertips start to tingle as he tiptoed toward the table. Is this magic? he wondered to himself. Is it happening now?

“Go on, sweetheart,” Margeret whispered to Anne, who clung tightly to her skirts. “That one’s for you, do you see the ‘A’ on it?”

While Anne gingerly untied the wrapping strings and rolled back the paper, Sebastian eagerly tore into his gift with no thought of preserving its wrappings.

Inside was a riding broom. Shorter than a standard model from the sporting goods shop on the high street, this broom was evidently made for children who had yet to receive their magic. It had shiny metal footrests at the bottom and handles at the top with leather grips. Etched into the top of the broom handle were the words Oakshaft ‘81 – Junior.

Sebastian’s fingers trembled as he stroked his fingers down the length of the polished handle. He could have sworn he saw a handful of sparks flicker from his hands as he lifted the broom, but as soon as he noticed them they dissipated into thin air.

“What do you think, my boy?” Albert asked him proudly.

Sebastian hardly knew what to think. Brooms like this didn’t come cheap, much less two. His parents had always seemed comfortable as young professors, studying magical theory and offering instruction to a handful of local wizarding families with homeschooled children. But a gift like this…

“Thank you,” Sebastian whispered, blinking back tears. “I love it, thank you.”

With a proud smile, Albert scooped up a teary-eyed Anne and asked, “What do you think? Should we take them out for a spin?”

The rest of the afternoon, Margeret watched from the ground with a book in her lap, watching with equal parts maternal joy and anxious fear as Albert circled the twins on his dependable Smethwyck Spinner from the 1870s. To begin, he taught Sebastian and Anne how to kick off from the ground and ascend into the air.

“That’s it!” Albert roared as Sebastian floated fifty feet into the air and spun in a wobbly circle. “Excellent work, Sebastian!”

Anne took a bit more coaching to eventually lift her feet off the ground, but by the time she was giggling nervously and taking slow laps around the cottage, Sebastian had discovered the aerodynamics of forward flight.

“Not too fast, darling!” Margeret called out from below. “Oh, please do be careful…”

Sebastian didn’t touch the ground again for hours. By the time he eventually landed, panting and windswept and deliriously happy, it was nearly time for dinner.

“I take it you like your gift, hmm?” Albert asked with a knowing grin as he helped Sebastian store his broom in the small shed behind the house.

“I love it!” Sebastian exclaimed. “I’m gonna fly every day, and I’m going to be so good – maybe I’ll even play Quidditch!”

“Maybe you will,” Albert said indulgently.

“Dad, did you play Quidditch while you were in school?” he asked curiously.

Albert shook his head. “No, I wasn’t very good back then. I suppose I’m a fair flyer now, but the rest of it – the athleticism – that wasn’t for me. Nearly always had my nose buried in a book back then.”

“You still do!” Sebastian pointed out, and Albert laughed, tossing his head back.

“Aye, I do,” he agreed. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I suppose. But if Quidditch makes you happy, you ought to go after it. There are plenty of things you can’t learn in books, after all.”

—

Sebastian and Anne were orphaned in the spring of 1882. In the end, Sebastian learned that perhaps there was a downside to having your nose buried in a book all day.

Feldcroft was a smaller hamlet than Ivanbreck. Uncle Solomon was less patient than Albert and Margeret, and he hardly had any books in his rather unadorned cottage.

…Sebastian didn’t want to be a professor anymore.

But he still had his broom.

By the time his eighth birthday arrived, Sebastian had already decided that he’d do whatever it took to be the best damn Quidditch player Hogwarts has ever seen.