#i lived in morocco for six months

[siren-141]

shame on me ✤ final

sorry it took so long, I've been busy with vacation and school. I probably would not have made this into a four-part miniseries without all of the support and requests, so I thank each and every one of you 🥰 here's the final part/epilogue! I hope you all enjoy 🖤

It had been two years.

Paris, Athens, Morocco. You had gone everywhere. Hell, even New York City.

That was maybe the hardest location you had stayed since your disappearance from the Avengers Tower all those years ago – what had been your home for the past few years. Where all of your friends had been, where Bucky had been. Where the two of you had built a home together.

Walking the streets, memories flooding back in every corner you looked…it was rough. It was rough when you’d sit on your fire escape and watch Bucky down below, look in back alleys and knock on doors asking if anyone had seen you. It was rough when you’d look out the window of the coffee shop you were sitting in, sipping on hot tea in the middle of a cold February, and watch Bucky across the street sit in the bar the two of you would frequent when you wanted a night out. It was funny though, watching him look for you in all your frequent places.

He looked for a couple of months, apparently. You hadn’t stayed in NYC for long after you had left the Tower, only staying long enough for your connections to make you a new passport and secure you a house in some other country that was far, far away. But you had kept tabs for the first three months of your escape. Bucky looked and looked, going from state to state and country to country to check out all of the safe houses. Following your normal patterns. But he never came close to finding you.

After a while, he had given up. He had sat slumped in a conference chair with this dead look in his eyes, everything that had ever mattered to him completely gone. His friends tried to console, but it never helped. He blamed himself for your disappearance – and he was right to do so. He finally came to understand that his actions bore the consequence of you leaving not only him, but everyone you loved, probably forever.

He went on missions and acted erratically, got drunk on Asgardian Ale every night that he could. His hair had grown back out, he had become more violent on his missions. Turning into a shell of himself, any reason he had to exercise self-restraint and maintain his humanity now gone. He thought he had healed from the decades of torture, trauma, and brainwashing, and he had: there was no turning back into the Winter Soldier. But he didn’t like who had become without you. Nobody liked who he had become. He was still a damn good agent, but too hot-headed for his own good. Too willing to sacrifice himself. He was on a path of self-destruction, and it seemed like nothing would help except for groveling at your feet if you had ever come back.

You, on the other hand, had it better. You had your horrible nights, of course – nights where you cried and screamed and regretted that you had ever left your friends and only family behind. You just wanted to go home on those nights, but you realized that your home wasn’t in that apartment with Bucky laying next to you anymore: your home would be on that 16th floor of the Tower, waking up every morning and going down the elevator to fix a cup of coffee or tea, never really leaving work since you lived there again. Back to the beginning. You couldn’t do that to yourself – you owed it to yourself to have a fresh start.

But those horrible nights ended about six months into your disappearance. You let yourself grieve a life once lived, but you also realized that you could be anywhere, do anything you wanted now. A true fresh start. You still had all of your aliases with you, but you only went by one now – one that nobody knew of. You supposed that keeping connections outside of the Avengers was one of the smartest things you had done, in the event that you needed to run. In events like these.

So here you were, two years later, sitting outside at a table in Barcelona. You sipped on your coffee, watching over the crowds in the streets. Teenagers out from school during the summertime, walking arm in arm with their friends, laughing and smiling. Couples with their babies, walking down the cobblestone roads with strollers. There was a time that it would have triggered something in you: thoughts of that should have been me. Those thoughts were long gone, though. They had been for a while.

You had moved on. You had moved on from fighting the powers of the world and living life as a civilian. Of course you couldn’t help yourself if you were walking late at night and a thief tried to rob a group of young women – that had happened a year ago, and you had casually walked past and brought the thief down with a few swift moves, before casually walking off in the direction of your flat. But for the most part – you had moved on. You stopped looking for trouble. You stopped being self-destructive and allowed yourself to let the happiness and the joy in of traveling the world under better circumstances than normal. Sure, you had left your old life behind, but you had also begun a new one. You had left and said goodbye to everyone who mattered, effectively bringing everything to a close and not leaving anyone hanging with much more than speculations of how you had disappeared.

Basking in the soft sunlight, you sighed to yourself, content with life. You brought the mug up to your lips, taking a small sip. Setting the mug down, you spoke.

“I was waiting for you to speak, but I was about to ask for the check. Didn’t want you to miss your opportunity.”

Natasha smiled behind her newspaper, having missed the sound of your voice. Putting the paper down, she got up from her seat at the small table behind you and instead sat across from you.

You smiled, having missed your best friend.

“It’s been a while,” she said, small smile still playing on her lips.

“It has,” you smiled back. She hadn’t changed a bit. “I’ve missed you, Nat.”

“I missed you too. We all have,” she replied. “I know you told me not to come and find you, and trust me – I didn’t. I never came to look for you before these past three months. You deserved that kind of peace – you still do.”

“But..?”

She sighed, taking off her sunglasses and setting them gently down on the table.

“We need you. This isn’t a personal visit, unfortunately. Only Tony knows that I’ve come to find you…it was actually his idea.”

You looked at her, almost in shock. A million thoughts flooded your mind. You had made so much progress, lived such a nice life ever since leaving…did you really want to go back?

“You don’t have to. It’s optional – we can find a way to do this without you. I’ll tell Tony that I just ran into a dead-end. Never found you – and I can leave, and we can pretend that this never happened.”

“What’s the mission?”

Natasha paused, hesitating to continue. When you met her eyes, she knew you were serious. “Our files. Our aliases, our covers…everything is in the hands of a man who goes by Typhon. He’s selling it to the highest bidder, which is every single enemy we’ve ever had and everyone who plans to be one. It’s all compromised.”

You thought about it. You didn’t have much time to think about it, though. You had a nice life here – nice and peaceful. But a part of you would always miss the chaos.

Raising your hand, you grabbed the attention of the waiter. “Señor – la cuenta, por favor?”

“Thanks, everyone, for coming. I mean, it wasn’t optional, but you get the gist,” Tony spoke, voice tired and stressed. The room was dark – not the same Tower that they were used to meeting in. Since everything had been compromised, the new meeting point was an underground cave that was unknown to most – old railways that used to be for smuggling in alcohol during the Prohibition Era, now covered up with skyscrapers on top of them.

Everyone stood around, listening intently.

Natasha walked in, joining the rest of the group. “Sorry we’re late, the air was rough.”

There were murmurs, people sharing confused glances.

“Oh my god,” Bucky breathed out, the shakes coming back to his body. His breathing got heavier, his hands coming to the back of his head to alleviate the pressure. Some looked back at him, confused at his realization.

You stepped out from the shadowed corner, just a few seconds behind Natasha, fully suited and ready to get started.

“It’s about time,” Tony said, looking at you before focusing his attention back on the group. “You almost missed the most important part.”

[coryndoll]

COY’S MASTERLIST

coryn / coy — eighteen ; new to tumblr. ex-wattpad addict. starting new series but never finishing them forever, ‘till the day i die.

DREW STARKEY

┆ SERIES

LOVER OF MINE ( on hiatus ) ; you and drew, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes you two question whether you ever truly moved on.

CHRYSANTHEMUMS ( current work, ongoing ) ; in the midst of a zombie apocalypse, you reluctantly team up with former actor drew starkey on a journey to the rumored clarenora beck safe zone, where you must learn to trust and let your guard down as drew proves his worth and strength in your fight for a chance at peace and safety.

┆ONESHOTS

TOO HOT TO HANDLE ( fluff i guess? idk ) ; tasked with interviewing actor drew starkey about his latest movie, you unintentionally steal the spotlight, leaving him blushing and lost for words under your mesmerizing gaze.

RAFE CAMERON

┆SERIES

NOT SO BAD ( first work, on hiatus ) ; you and rafe absolutely despise each other in public but crush in secret. rafe is failing his humanities class & is assigned you as his tutor . . . maybe all it took for this relationship to form was just a bit of forced proximity and some time.

WAKING UP TO YOU ( current work, ongoing ) ; you wake up in a strange alternate reality that just so happens to be the outer banks universe, and to your disbelief, you’re suddenly in a relationship with the shows most unlikely character, rafe cameron.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO FOR LOVE? ( current work, ongoing ) ; you become obsessively fixated on winning back your ex-boyfriend rafe, resorting to manipulative schemes—bribery, staged incidents, and calculated charm—to eliminate any threat to your reunion, believing you’re the only one who can truly protect him.

┆ONESHOTS

WHO DO YOU BELONG TO? ( smut ) ; rafe has a wet dream and wakes up his girlfriend with his mouth.

SAY MY NAME? ( smut ) ; you and rafe just can’t help yourselves.

SWEET ( requested, smut ) ; both yours and rafes family pick on him for being your choice of boyfriend. insecure, he lashes out, but you’re there to help him feel better.

LIES FOR LUNCH ( potential series ) ; you return to your hometown, the outer banks, to work as ward cameron’s assistant at cameron development, but living under his roof for the summer leads to unexpected tension with his son, rafe.

HOLD ME CLOSE ( requested, angst ) ; being big john’s kid and john b’s sibling isnt easy, especially when you’re dating rafe cameron. after your dad makes a comment about you and rafe, you’ve had enough and seek your boyfriend for comfort.

HATE TO BE LAME ( angst, inspired ) ; you are caught in a situationship with rafe, struggling to admit you might love him, constantly holding back your feelings while fearing that confessing could make things more complicated.

FRENCH 75 ( requested, angst ) ; six months after your breakup with rafe, he’s walking around the island with sofia. when being confronted by him after a few words are thrown around a conversation, you and rafe pour your feelings out.

ON THE WAY ( requested, smut ) ; on the way to morocco, rafe is knocked out by the pogues and tied up in a cabin in the boat. taking advantage of the opportunity, you sneak in to have some sex with your friends-with-benefits duo who’s initially irritated that he can’t even touch you, until he realizes that maybe it’s not such a bad thing at all.

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 9.8 (1860-1960)

1860 – The steamship PS Lady Elgin sinks on Lake Michigan, with the loss of around 300 lives. 1862 – Millennium of Russia monument is unveiled in Novgorod. 1863 – American Civil War: In the Second Battle of Sabine Pass, a small Confederate force thwarts a Union invasion of Texas. 1883 – The Northern Pacific Railway (reporting mark NP) was completed in a ceremony at Gold Creek, Montana. Former president Ulysses S. Grant drove in the final "golden spike" in an event attended by rail and political luminaries. 1888 – Isaac Peral's submarine is first tested. 1888 – The Great Herding (Spanish: El Gran Arreo) begins with thousands of sheep being herded from the Argentine outpost of Fortín Conesa to Santa Cruz near the Strait of Magellan. 1888 – In London, the body of Jack the Ripper's second murder victim, Annie Chapman, is found. 1888 – In England, the first six Football League matches are played. 1892 – The Pledge of Allegiance is first recited. 1898 – Seven hundred Greek civilians, 17 British guards and the British Consul of Crete are killed by a Turkish mob. 1900 – Galveston hurricane: A powerful hurricane hits Galveston, Texas killing about 8,000 people. 1905 – The 7.2 Mw  Calabria earthquake shakes southern Italy with a maximum Mercalli intensity of XI (Extreme), killing between 557 and 2,500 people. 1914 – World War I: Private Thomas Highgate becomes the first British soldier to be executed for desertion during the war. 1916 – In a bid to prove that women were capable of serving as military dispatch riders, Augusta and Adeline Van Buren arrive in Los Angeles, completing a 60-day, 5,500 mile cross-country trip on motorcycles. 1921 – Margaret Gorman, a 16-year-old, wins the Atlantic City Pageant's Golden Mermaid trophy; pageant officials later dubbed her the first Miss America. 1923 – Honda Point disaster: Nine US Navy destroyers run aground off the California coast. Seven are lost, and twenty-three sailors killed. 1925 – Rif War: Spanish forces including troops from the Foreign Legion under Colonel Francisco Franco landing at Al Hoceima, Morocco. 1926 – Germany is admitted to the League of Nations. 1933 – Ghazi bin Faisal became King of Iraq. 1934 – Off the New Jersey coast, a fire aboard the passenger liner SS Morro Castle kills 137 people. 1935 – US Senator from Louisiana Huey Long is fatally shot in the Louisiana State Capitol building. 1941 – World War II: German forces begin the Siege of Leningrad. 1943 – World War II: The Armistice of Cassibile is proclaimed by radio. OB Süd immediately implements plans to disarm the Italian forces. 1944 – World War II: London is hit by a V-2 rocket for the first time. 1945 – The division of Korea begins when United States troops arrive to partition the southern part of Korea in response to Soviet troops occupying the northern part of the peninsula a month earlier. 1946 – A referendum abolishes the monarchy in Bulgaria. 1952 – The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation makes its first televised broadcast on the second escape of the Boyd Gang. 1954 – The Southeast Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO) is established.

[instructionsnotincluded]

But like, do we actually believe that? I always thought they would have at least 6 seasons. They had 3 for the first treasure and then 3 for the Blackbeard treasure. Just makes sense. I honestly think the whole Elaine drama bullshit is made up for more publicity and attention. We will never know how they truly feel. I also feel like Rudy respects his girlfriend (of course) but also outer banks really hit his career off and I don’t feel like he would up and leave the show just like that because his girlfriend is upset with some of the people if that’s even true. I try not to buy into all the behind the scenes drama because we will never know lmao pictures and videos can look a certain way to us but in reality it could literally mean nothing 😂 anyways I ride at dawn if they kill JJ

I feel the same. I'm not sure what to think of it. I don't think anyone really knows what's happening in the actors' personal lives and that's totally cool with me, I don't want to know, but they did make some decent points that made me question it outside of the drama/non drama. Not buying into the behind the scenes stuff is fair, we really don't know what we're looking at and it could be something completely different than how it looks for sure!

I think it's Netflix's approach to the upcoming season that really gave me the red flag. There's been no promo, Netflix has released nothing, and none of the core actors have posted anything about it other than a few random photos here and there. If you look at Netflix's other shows, they promo the shit out of them and with season four's release so close and there not being anything? It was loved enough to have a massive festival, but not enough to have any teasers or promo yet? Seems strange. Even if they want to go six seasons, I'm not sure Netflix is going to keep it. But, then again, Deuxmoi did post months ago that it got an increase in funding and that's why they extended to Morocco, so maybe we're all wrong and Netflix is just waiting a little longer before it goes crazy with promo?

[brendafromcatalunya]

Continent No.5

As I sat drinking a glass of horchata at the house of my grandparents I realised how recently it was that I had been there. eighteen months is not always considered a short amount of time between visits to someones grandparents home when you live 23 hours away via plane it is quite short, in my opinion. It then became clear that my wish to visit Morocco, thus visiting six of the seven world continents in a single year, may not come true as leaving this family is very difficult for me.

[z34l0t]

MARTÍNEZ: Ngannou stands at 6-foot-4 and weighs in at more than 250 pounds of pretty much pure muscle. He holds a record for the world's strongest punch. One strike from him is the equivalent of getting hit full speed by a small car. So it's hard to picture him as a child living in a small village in Cameroon, known mostly for its sand mines. When I spoke with him recently, he told me about how he had shoveled sand into trucks all day to support his family when he was around 9 years old.

FRANCIS NGANNOU: We had no choice. We need to survive. So it was like a survival job.

MARTÍNEZ: Ngannou had dreams to be a heavyweight champion, just like his hero Mike Tyson. But he couldn't slug his way to belts and trophies in Cameroon. So at the age of 26, he left everything behind to chase that dream in Europe. And as you might imagine, that choice was crushingly hard to make.

NGANNOU: You don't just wake up one day and leave your country, even without know where you're going, knowing that you're taking all the risk in the world, you might not come back alive.

MARTÍNEZ: The risks included crossing the Sahara Desert, sometimes in the back of a smuggler's truck and many times by foot. Ngannou remembers every country he passed through as he traveled more than 2,000 miles.

NGANNOU: From Cameroon to Nigeria, then Nigeria, Niger, from Niger to Algeria, then from Algeria to Morocco.

MARTÍNEZ: From Morocco, he needed to somehow get into Spanish territory. Then, even if he wasn't technically on the continent of Europe, he'd officially be on European land. Now, there were only two ways to do that. The first was to go over multiple fences with police patrols and barbed wire. Ngannou attempted that but failed. So he tried option No. 2.

NGANNOU: The other way was to put a raft - inflatable raft, the one that you usually use in your swimming pool - put it in the ocean and try to get somewhere that the land in Morocco is close to the land in Europe.

MARTÍNEZ: Sounds impossible, even deadly. Ngannou tried it six times over the course of one year. Between those attempts, he lived in a Moroccan forest where he and other migrants competed with rats for scraps of spoiled food in the trash.

NGANNOU: You get in this desperate situation, and you have to hold on in something. There is not a way back. You don't know if you're going to make it. There's only one thing going on in your life, and it's your dream. And even though we were in the forest and couldn't do anything, I could find a refuge in the idea of, I have a bright future in boxing.

MARTÍNEZ: So even in those conditions, Ngannou still had to work.

NGANNOU: I was doing push-ups and abs in the forest like crazy. Even now that I'm in all the best condition workout, I can do, like, all the push-up that I was doing out there because I have one thing in my mind. It was boxing - one thing.

MARTÍNEZ: Finally, Ngannou and his inflatable raft made it to Spanish waters. There, he was picked up by a Red Cross boat. After two months in Spanish prison, he was given refugee status and freed. Ngannou made his way to Paris and joined a fighting gym. That's where his coaches introduced him to this new thing called MMA.

NGANNOU: And I was like, what's MMA?

[thetravelerwrites]

Bashir (Troll) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationships: Female Human/Male Troll (World of Warcraft Design) Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Troll, Fake Dating, Hired Boyfriend, Fake Boyfriend Content Warnings: Stalker Ex-Boyfriend, Stalking, Mention of Guns, Brief Violence Series: OkCryptid Words: 6365

A commission for @floral-and-fine​​! A woman getting out of a bad relationship has moved across her home state to get away from her controlling ex-boyfriend, only for him to show up at her job. Scared, she goes on OkCryptid to recruit a "boyfriend" in hopes of frightening him off. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

>Hi. I know we don’t know each other and this is pretty sudden, but I have a proposition for you, and it isn’t what you think.

Vague, yes, but it would catch his attention quickly enough, you thought. You were desperate and didn’t know what else to do.

>Oh, He messaged not long after. >What would that be?

>I want to pay you to go out with me for a while.

>I’m not a prostitute. Lol

>That’s not what I mean, You replied, rolling your eyes. >I know this sounds weird, and if I had more money I’d probably just hire a bodyguard, but I don’t.

>Why would you need a bodyguard?

You sighed. >I have a stalker ex-boyfriend. I dated him for about five months, but he was really possessive and crazy so I broke it off, and now he won’t leave me alone. I moved here last month from across the state and he followed me. He showed up at my work today.

>Ah, I see. So you want me to rip his arms off?

>No, I just want him to see me with someone who is big enough to rip his arms off. Maybe it’ll scare him away. You’re the biggest guy I could find on here. Well, I did find a cyclops that was pretty big, but she wasn’t interested.

>Have you gone to the police about this?

>Yeah, but they said unless I get proof he has intent to do harm, there’s nothing I can do. I can’t even get a restraining order unless he hurts me or causes property damage. It’s like he has to beat me up before they’ll do anything, and I’d rather not let it get that far.

>Gotcha. Why don’t we don’t meet for coffee tomorrow and talk it over?

>That sounds great. I’m free at lunch.

>Me too. I’ll meet you at Leo’s Diner, you know that one?

>No, but I can Google it. See you tomorrow at 11.

Bashir arrived right on time at eleven the next morning. He was a large troll, dark blue in color, with large, off-white tusks jutting out from the sides of his mouth and his long red hair braided in several placed and pulled back at the nape of his neck. He was muscular, thick in the waist, and around nine feet tall. He wore a suit, which was finely tailored to his body. You raised your eyebrows: his profile was sparse, so you didn’t know what kind of job he did; you’d only chosen him because of his picture. But dressed like that, you were surprised he even agreed to take this “job.”

“Hi, you’re the one I’m supposed to meet today, right?” He said, extending his hand.

“Yes,” You replied, standing and shaking his hand. Your hand was dwarfed in his. “Thanks for agreeing.”

“It’s no trouble,” He said, gesturing for you to sit back down as he took a seat opposite you. “So tell me about this boyfriend of yours.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” You said. “His name is Jake. I met him at work; we worked in the same department. He seemed nice, so when he asked me out, I didn’t think anything of saying yes. The first two months was fine, and were got along really well. As soon as we decided to be exclusive, he got really clingy really quickly. Every time I’d try to pull away, he’d clutch at me tighter. He started pressuring me to put distance between me and my friends, he wanted to know where I was all the time, he was constantly texting and calling and got mad when I didn’t respond right away. I got sick of it and broke up with him.”

“When did the stalking start?”

“Almost immediately. It didn’t help that we still worked in the same department, so I had to see him every day. He’d show up at my house after work and on the weekend. He’d either be super angry and demand that I let him in, or he’d be there with flowers and candy and cry and tell me that I was the best thing that ever happened to him, that he was sorry and he’d do better. He kicked my door in a couple of times and I had to call the police. I finally managed to get a restraining order against him, but it didn’t really help. He couldn’t come within five hundred feet, so he would stand on the curb exactly five hundred feet from my house and just watch the house. I was scared for my life. So I quit my job and moved across the state with just my savings. I found a job and I started last week. And yesterday, they said I had a new client, and it was him.”

“What did you do?”

“I freaked out and called security, telling them I had a restraining order against him. He mistakenly thinks the restraining order is void because I moved, but I called and that’s not the case at all.” You sighed in aggravation. “I really hope this asshole doesn’t get me fired.”

“Hmm,” He said. “So what’s your offer?”

“Hmm?” You asked.

“You said you’d pay. What’s your offer?”

“Oh,” You said, surprised. “Uh, fifty bucks per date, plus the date expenses. I can’t really afford more than that.”

“That sounds fair. Okay,” He said. “I’ll do it. You just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Really?” You replied. “You’ll take the job?”

“Sure,” He said. “I’ve got some free time, and the extra money will be nice. I could buy a new suit in a month.” He grinned and plucked at his own, no doubt worth several months of dates.

“That’s great, thank you,” You said, sighing in relief. “So, Friday night? Around six o’clock? Would that work?”

“Absolutely,” He said, pulling out his phone. “Give me your phone number. I’ll add it to my contacts. That way, if you see him, you can call or text and I can head over and do the arm ripping thing.”

You laughed and took out your phone.

After exchanging information, the two of you had lunch and discussed the finer points of the job. PDAs were acceptable, but you’d prefer if he didn’t kiss you. He had a nine-to-five job, just like you, but his position was flexible and let him leave the office for errands, as long as he didn’t abuse the privilege. You left the lunch feeling a little safer.

Friday night, you met him at a nice Greek restaurant, and he wore another nice bespoke suit. He offered to pick you up at your home, but you didn’t really want him to know where you lived. You were still pretty paranoid about Jake finding out.

“I’m surprised you chose this place, considering you’re footing the bill and everything,” Bashir said, looking around. “It’s pretty fancy.”

“It has to look believable,” You reasoned. “And I do like Greek food. If you like, you can pick the place next time.”

He chuckled. “Have you ever had Mediterranean troll food?”

“No, I haven’t,” You said, interested. “What’s it like?”

“It’s very similar, except there’s no bread of any kind.”

“So what do you eat the hummus on?”

“You drink it like sauce.”

“You’re not supposed to drink sauce!” You protested.

He snickered.

“I feel like you’re making this up.”

“Maybe, but you’ve never met any Mediterranean trolls, so you don’t know.”

“Are you a Mediterranean troll?”

“I am, actually,” He said. “My parents came over from Morocco when I was a tot. I don’t remember much about Morocco, but I’ve always dreamed of going on a trip there, I’ve just never had the chance.” He gave a cursory look over the menu. “Maybe that’s what I’ll use this money for.”

“Sounds nice to me,” You said. “If we both get something good out of this, then that’s a plus.”

“What do you get out of this, other than getting rid of a bothersome ex?”

“Security and peace of mind,” You said, picking up your own menu. “That’s worth the price.”

He looked at you seriously. “This guy really shook you up, didn’t he?”

You set the menu back down and sighed. “He’s never hit me or threatened me verbally. The most he’s ever done is break my door, but…” You looked out of the window. “I feel like… it wouldn’t be hard, you know? It wouldn’t be that much of a leap from breaking my door in to doing something worse. If he gets mad enough, if he gets obsessed enough, who knows what he could do. All I know is that I don’t want to find out.”

“I understand,” He said. “I’ve never had to deal with something like that, because… well, look at me…” He gestured at his massive body. “But I do know people who have, and it sounds terrifying. I’m glad I can help, even if I am getting paid to do it.”

You smiled. “Well, it helps that you’re good company.”

“You don’t have to flirt with me, you know,” He teased. “That’s not part of the deal.”

“I will throat-punch you,” You said with a grin, and he laughed.

The next date was the following Saturday, and he chose to go to a concert. He wore a black v-neck shirt and a pair of black slacks, which was as dressed down as you’d seen him, but still very business-casual. It was a showcase of up-and-coming local bands, and they were all pretty good. You didn’t know that he liked Djent and progressive metal, too, but you were happy to have a common interest.

In truth, Bashir was pleasant to be around, and you were relieved that this entire thing wasn’t as awkward as it could have been. It definitely helped make this “dating” business look real from an outsider perspective. He held up his end of the bargain really well over the next dozen dates, holding your hand and putting an arm around you as if it was perfectly normal to do so. Thankfully, it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable when he did it, as he was very warm and the height difference meant he couldn’t be too cuddly naturally. You hoped that if Jake was watching, he believed you’d moved on and had no thoughts for him.

Unfortunately, if he was watching, he didn’t take the hint.

One night, as you were turning off lights and getting ready for bed, you looked out of your bedroom window and there he was, standing on the curb across the street, Jake stood in the shadow of a tree, vaping, and looking toward your house.

Panicked, you didn’t your best to stay calm while you were at the window, not wanting him to know you had seen him, but as soon as you walked away, you turned off the bedroom lights, snatched up your phone, dashed downstairs, and frantically checked the windows and doors, making sure they were all locked.

You meant to call the police, but instead, you dialed Bashir’s number. He answered immediately.

“What’s up?” He asked, sounding caught off guard. You weren’t surprised, you never called or texted him unless it was about the next “date.”

“Jake’s outside,” You whispered. “He’s across the street, I’m looking at him right now from my living room window.”

“Are you sure it’s him?”

“I’d recognize that stupid snakeskin vape box anywhere,” You said.

“Okay,” He said. “I’m heading over. Stay on the phone with me until I get there. Do you have a landline?”

“Yeah,” You replied.

“Get it and call the police. Don’t tell them he’s stalking you because, well frankly, they won’t care. Say you’re a concerned member of the neighborhood and there’s a suspicious man hanging around outside and you’re worried about a break in.”

It wouldn’t have been a lie. “Okay,” You said, picking up your cordless phone.

After calling the police, you waited with your heart in your throat, listening to Bashir get into his car and drive. He’d heard you tell the operator your address. He arrived before the police did, his vehicle a nondescript SUV, and he got out wearing sweat pants and a tank top and pulled a duffel bag from his passenger seat. He didn’t acknowledge Jake at all, simply walked up to your door and knocked. You went to open the door for him.

“Hug me and kiss my cheek,” He said in a low undertone. Gulping, you did as he said with him turning so that your display of affection was clearly visible to anyone watching from the street. You let him in and closed the door behind him, locking it.

“What now?”

“Let’s turn on the lights and make some coffee while we wait for the police,” He said.

“Okay,” You said, your voice shaking. You went to go into the kitchen but he stopped you by taking your hand.

“Hey,” He said gently. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here, and the police are coming. You’re safe.”

Tears came to your eyes and you nodded, wiping them. He released you and you went to the kitchen, putting a pot of coffee on.

The police arrived. You and Bashir watched covertly from the breakfast nook. Eventually, Jake walked to a car and got in it, driving away. The police followed him.

“They let him go?” You asked, worried.

“Well, they may not have know he has a restraining order, and even if they did, he looked plenty far away enough to not have violated it. He wasn’t breaking any laws other than loitering, so they couldn’t arrest him. At least they made sure he left.”

You held your head in your hands. “God, I don’t want to have to do all this over again.”

“It’s okay,” He said. “I’ll stay the night to make sure he doesn’t come back tonight.”

“What about tomorrow? Or the next day? You can’t be here all the time,” You said, your voice shaking.

He sighed heavily. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

You scoffed in disgust. “I don’t want a fucking gun.”

“Okay,” He said. “Then, I’ll put up a security system. I brought one with me; it’s in my bag. I’ll set it up tonight while he’s not here.”

“It’s late,” You said weakly.

“Do you want to sleep or do you want peace of mind?” He asked you levelly.

You scrubbed your face, took a deep breath, drained your coffee cup, and stood up. “Okay. Let’s do it, then.”

It took a few hours, but he managed to get several security cameras fixed to the building, focused on entryways and the front and back yards. You helped him by holding the equipment and tools for him as he worked, handing up what he needed as he needed it. By the time the two of you were done, it was three a.m. and you both had to be at work in mere hours.

The two of you fell into an exhausted sleep on your bed. You didn’t even have the energy to be affronted by the fact that you were sharing a bed with him. The next morning, before he left to go home and get ready for work, he downloaded the security camera app onto your phone and showed you how to use it.

You went to work, checking your phone surreptitiously to see if Jake was outside of your house. So far, he hadn’t reappeared.

>Today’s Friday, You texted him. >I know you’re probably tired after last night, but do you want to have a date today?

>What about a home date at my house? He replied. >I’ll cook dinner and everything. I don’t want you to be at your house at the moment.

>I can’t argue with that, You said in return. >Sounds good to me. What are you cooking?

>I was thinking a kefta meatball tagine with couscous on the side, and a snake pastry for dessert.

>That sounds amazing. Thanks for putting me up. I know this all is a huge inconvenience, and I really appreciate it.

>It’s no problem,” He said. >It’s what I’m getting paid for, right?

You sighed. Well, this wasn’t exactly what he was getting paid for. How much would an overnight stay cost you?

He sent you a message with his address and you went home after work to shower and pack a small overnight bag. You snickered, pulling out your pretty underwear and a sexy negligee, wondering if you should pack this, too, before putting it away and just throwing some pajamas in your bag.

Checking the cameras before stepping outside, you left the house and hurried to your car, heading to Bashir’s house. His place was a two-story, bungalow style house with a dark brown cliffstone brick pattern and a detached garage. It was charming, and a lot cuter than your tiny yellow ranch-style house. The yard was well kept and three were full flowerbeds next to the wide porch. You wouldn’t have imagined he lived in a place like this.

You knocked on the door and he answered it quickly, wearing a comfortable t-shirt and pair of tight jeans. You tried not to stare, but it was difficult. His clothes left very little to the imagination. His hair was also down and cascaded down his back and shoulders.

“Come in, come in,” He said, taking your bag for you.

“Thanks,” You said. “Your house is really pretty.”

“Oh, thanks!” He said. “It was actually condemned when I bought it. I basically had to rebuild it from the ground up. I’m not quite finished with it yet, but I’m happy with the progress.”

“You should be, it’s amazing,” You said. “I’d never have guessed it was a fixer-upper.”

He grinned at you, showing off his sharp teeth. “Come on, dinner will be ready soon.”

“It smells great,” You said, inhaling the savory smell of lamb and vegetables.

“All my mom’s recipes,” He replied, heading into the kitchen. “She owns a restaurant three towns over.”

“I’ll have to go and visit it sometime,” You said.

“Maybe I’ll take you myself one day,” He said, smiling as he stirred the couscous. Your heart fluttered a little.

How long were you going to have to keep this up? “Dating” Bashir was fun, but it wasn’t going to last forever. Either Jake would give up or get arrested, so either way, it would be over. Maybe you could stay friends. He was nice enough, and you enjoyed hanging out with him. But still… why was he talking about things that might happen in the future if there was no future for the two of you?

Dinner was delicious, and so was dessert, and afterward the two of you went to the living room to watch a movie. He even put his arm around you, since the window was uncovered and anyone could look in, he said, and you felt comfortable enough to relax into his side. It almost did feel like a real home date.

After the movie, though, you both decided to sleep, since you were still tired from the night before. You decided that you were both adults and could share a bed without it being awkward, and besides, his bed was huge and could fit five of you easily. You both fell asleep almost immediately.

Sometime during the night, you got a ping from the motion detector on your phone, but when you checked the security system, it was just a raccoon in your trashcan. You sighed and put your phone down, rolling over.

Bashir was on his back, asleep, with his face turned toward you. He was breathing deeply and relaxed with one hand on his chest and the other on his stomach.

You couldn’t help but stare. He really was an attractive guy, and if circumstances had been different, you might have dated him for real. But… until Jake left you alone, you didn’t want to drag anyone else into it. Bashir didn’t have any emotional connection to you, so Jake couldn’t affect whatever “relationship” you had.

But maybe things could be different after? You weren’t sure. He hadn’t expressed any interest in you other than what he had to to make the job believable. He hadn’t been flirty or more affectionate than he needed to be. You couldn’t afford to develop feelings for Bashir, not right now.

Even still, you brushed your fingers gently against the skin of his arm, feeling the hairs that covered it, and followed the curve up to his hand, allowing yours to rest on top of his for a moment or two before retracting it and trying to fall asleep again, sighing heavily.

The next morning, Bashir recommended that the two of you spend the day together, to keep up the weekend stay appearance.

“How much is this ‘weekend getaway’ going to cost me?” You asked dubiously.

He laughed. “Don’t worry, today’s a freebie, since I suggested it. You still have to pay for last night, though. The normal fifty bucks is fine.”

“Mm-hmm,” You hummed flatly, fishing the money out of your wallet and handing it to him. “Well, what do you want to do?”

“Ah, it’s a freebie day, right? You get to choose this time.”

You smiled. “Well, let’s start with breakfast. I’ll cook it. I can cook breakfast blindfolded.”

“If you like,” He said, sitting at the bar in the kitchen and watching you putter around, looking for cooking tools.

After breakfast, you decided you wanted to go to the local botanical garden, which you hadn’t been to in some time.

“Your flowerbeds outside reminded me of this place,” You told him, walking slowly through the rows of Japanese maples. There was a beautiful and an extremely rare Chinese Red Maple behind a gate at the end of the row, the centerpiece of the garden. “Did you plant them yourself?”

“Yep,” He said with a smile. “I helped my dad do a lot of gardening when he was still alive. He had a landscaping business, but he was really passionate about it. I actually inherited the business. Gardening helps me keep his memory alive.”

“That’s really sweet,” You said, smiling softly. “Is that what you do for a living, the landscaping job? I’ve never actually asked what you do for work.”

“No, actually. I mean, I own the company, but I don’t work for it. My actual job is something else entirely.”

“What is it?”

He laughed. “Honestly, I don’t think you’d believe me.” Before you could ask, he took you by the hand and said, “Let’s take a break and get a coffee. I have to use the bathroom.”

“Okay,” You said, letting the subject drop. For now.

You got to the food court outside of the botanical gardens and sat down at the outdoor cafe.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” He said, putting some money down on the table. “Can you order me a large black coffee?”

“Yeah, sure,” You said. He smiled and headed off. You got up and put in your order, then sat back down at the table and opened the security app, looking through the cameras and checked to see if anything was out of place.

The chair opposite to you was pulled out and he sat back down while you were still looking at your phone.

“The coffee should be out soon,” You said.

“I didn’t order coffee,” A voice said. It wasn’t Bashir.

You jerked your head up and saw Jake sitting across from you. You stood up so fast that you knocked the chair over.

“Get away from me, Jake,” You said.

“Look, just talk to me,” He said, standing up and advancing on you. “Why won’t you just talk to me?”

“Get away from me!” You shouted. “Bashir!”

“Are you calling for that monster?” He sneered. “You could do so much better than him. Besides, you’re not even really dating him, you’re just paying him to keep you company, you slut. You think I wouldn’t figure that out?”

“Fuck you!” You back up. “Bashir!”

Jake was snatched back and slammed down onto the cafe table. Bashir had him pinned down with a single hand. It wasn’t hard to do: Bashir was almost twice the size of Jake in height and weight.

“Let me go!” Jake said, struggling against Bashir’s iron grip. “I’ll have you arrested! My brother’s a cop!”

“Ah, that explains how you got her address so quick,” Bashir said. “I don’t really care if your brother’s a cop. Actually, I think I do, I think an internal affairs investigation is warranted. Regardless, you’ve just violated a restraining order.”

“What does it matter to you?”

Bashir snorted. “I’m FBI, dickless.”

You gaped at him.

“Bullshit!” Jake said. “I’ll fucking sue you! I’ll ruin your fucking life!”

“Whatever you want, you’re still under arrest,” Bashir said, pulling out a set of handcuffs from an inside pocket of his jacket.

“You’re kidding,” You said slowly, staring at Bashir.

“I told you you probably wouldn’t believe me,” He said, grinning at you sheepishly. He jerked his head at his jacket. “My ID is in my pocket.”

You reached in and fished it out, opening the leather fold to reveal a… rather official looking ID and badge.

You laughed in disbelief. “You’re right, I wouldn’t have.”

The police arrived to detain Jake and took him to the station. Bashir drove you to the station, as well, so that you could make a statement.

Later, Bashir drove you back to your house.

“I’ll bring your bag over later,” He said. “He’ll probably get ninety days in jail for violating the restraining order, and hopefully you won’t have to deal with him anymore. Although, if you hear from him again once he gets out, let me know, and I’ll be here.”

“Thanks,” You said. “Really, thank you for everything.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Here,” He said, handing it to you. Inside was all the money you had given him for the dates, plus some. There had to have been almost two thousand dollars in there.

“But this is…”

He laughed. “I’m a federal official, you know. I can’t take bribes. I’d get fired.”

“This wasn’t…” You started, but stopped yourself. This could absolutely be seen as a bribe. “What do I do with all this?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you like. Go on a trip. Buy something nice. It’s your money, after all.”

You sighed a little sadly. “I guess this is it, then.”

He sighed, too. “Yeah, I guess so.” He leaned forward, bent down, and kissed you on the cheek. “Take care of yourself.”

Jake did end up getting three months in jail, which made you feel a lot better. You were worried that he would come after you, but the three months passed and when he was released, he moved clear across the country and you never heard from him again.

Finally free of him, you thought you might try actually dating again, but you could only think of Bashir. You and he had only spoken a few times, mostly him checking on you, but you hadn’t seen each other since Jake’s arrest. You missed him, but you couldn’t tell him that. He didn’t have any feelings for you, anyway. If he did, wouldn’t he have asked you out after Jake was out of the picture?

Even still, you wanted to see him again. So once Jake was gone, you texted Bashir.

>I have something for you, You told him.

>Oh? What’s that?

>I want to give it to you in person. Would it be okay to come over this weekend?

>I’m free now. Why don’t you stop by?

>Okay. I’ll be there soon.

Before leaving, you hesitated and decided to throw on your best, sexiest underwear. Just in case.

You arrived at his house to find him out in the front yard. He was digging a hole in the yard with a sapling sitting in a bucket, ready for planting. There were also stones and gravel he was going to use for a decorative barrier. He stood up and waved as you drove up into the driveway.

“Hey!” He said, pulling you into a hug. Well, as well as he could, being so tall. “It’s good to see you!”

“You too!” You said. “What kind of tree is that?”

“A Chinese Maple,” He said. “I got inspired when we went to the botanical gardens that time. It cost a pretty penny and I had to wait for the cutting to grow, but it’s finally ready to plant.”

“That’s so cool,” You said. “Can I help?”

“Really?” He said, grinning. “Yeah, sure! There’s a pair of gloves over there on the porch. They might be a little big, but it’s better than blisters.”

You ran to retrieve them, and picked up a trowel. “Why did you decide on the maple?”

“Cause it reminds me of you,” He said, digging. “When I look out my window every day and see it, I’ll think of you.”

Your heart beat faster, but you couldn’t look at him.

It only took about an hour to dig out the hole, plant the sapling, fill the hole with soil, lay the stones, and spread the gravel. Thankfully it was a cool day and you didn’t sweat too much. The two of you caught up on what had happened in the three months since you’d seen each other. You wanted to ask if he had started dating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“It looks great,” He said, standing back and grinning. “Thanks for your help! We got it done in record time. Let’s get cleaned up and have a drink.”

“Okay,” You said. “Let me grab my purse from the car.”

“Oh, right, you had something to give me, right?”

“Yep,” You told him, grabbing your bag.

He laughed. “Sorry I side-tracked you.”

“It’s fine, I had a good time,” You said. He opened the door for you and let you go into the house before him.

You went to the bathroom to freshen up and when you looked down, you realized your toothbrush was in the holder, the one you had forgotten when you’d stayed over. You had bought a new one and figured he’d just throw it away when he found it. Why had he kept it? Why was it in the holder with his?

You went back out into the kitchen and found him shirtless, water beading down the muscles of his back, and you stopped in the doorway, staring.

“Oh, sorry,” He said, laughing and throwing on a clean shirt. “Needed a quick wash. I felt a little grimy after the yardwork.”

“It’s okay,” You said, your heart still hammering in your chest.

“Iced tea?”

“Yeah, sure,” You replied, sitting at the bar. He poured you a drink and sat at the bar opposite you.

“So, what was the thing you had for me.”

You swallowed your tea a bit too hard and reached into your purse, handing him an envelope.

“This isn’t the money, is it?” He asked, smiling.

“No, it’s not money,” You said. “Open it.”

He grinned playfully at you, but it slipped from his face when he looked inside the envelope, pulling out two plane tickets.

“Morocco?” He asked, looking up at you in surprise.

You nodded. “Those are good for a year, so make sure you get some vacation time soon,” You said, anxious.

He stared at them. “There are two.”

“Yes,” You replied. “In case you wanted to take your mom. Or maybe a girlfriend or boyfriend or something.”

You kept your face as neutral as possible, but he was staring at you.

“The extra ticket is for you, isn’t it?” He asked softly.

You looked down and away. “If you don’t want me to go, that’s okay. You can take whoever you like. I just wanted you to have the trip you always dreamed of.”

He got up out of his chair, came around, and got down on his knees, so that he was face to face with you. He leaned forward and kissed you. It was firm and testing, and you responded, throwing your arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around you as well.

“I missed you,” He murmured against your lips.

“Why didn’t you ask me out?” You asked him, pulling back to look at his face.

“I thought you weren’t interested in a real relationship,” He said, pulling you against him. “If I had any inclination you did, I would have asked you out on the spot.”

“I thought the same thing,” You said. “I never expected you’d actually like me.”

“I do,” He said, kissing you again and standing up. “I like you very, very much.”

He walked you into his room and lay you down on his bed, stripping your clothes off your body.

“Pretty,” He said with a grin as he came across your lacy black underwear. “Did you wear this for me?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“Well, it would be a shame to take it off so soon, then, wouldn’t it?” He said, palming your breasts over the fabric of your bra. He touched your slit over your underwear, and you gasped. You lifted your leg and rubbed him through his pants, and he grunted. You felt him harden under your touch. He was… uh… large.

You pulled off his shirt and ran your nails down his chest. He moved his hand away and pressed himself against you, still clothed, grinding himself into your clit, and you moaned. You reached for his belt and unbuckled it, unbuttoning it, and pushed his pants down with your toes. Because of his long tusks, he couldn’t bend down to kiss you in this position, so he picked you up as if you were a doll, kissing your body. You were always a little self conscious about your weight, being a big girl, but he seemed not to notice.

He lifted you all the way up to his face, kneeling down so that you weren’t so high up, and licked the cloth covering your slit, putting your legs over his shoulders and his tusks under your body. Using just his tongue, he moved your underwear out of the way and teased your clit. His tongue was long and thick. You whimpered and rocked your hips against his tongue. He pushed it in side of you and thrust it back and forth, and you writhed in his grip.

Carefully, he pulled you down and eased you into his lap, pressing himself against your entrance. You pressed your hands against his stomach and watched him disappear slowly inside you. He couldn’t go all the way in, but once he reached the back and knew where the limit was, he pulled back out slowly and thrust in again slowly, easing you into it. He must have had a similar size problem in the past and had learned how to overcome it in these situations. You were glad for it.

He lay you on the edge of the bed and pressed your knees back, thrusting a little faster, and you reached down and touched yourself, rubbing quickly as he sped up. He pulled the cups of your bra down so that he could grasp your breasts, squeezing gently, and grunted. You held his hand there with your own, pulling up your head and sucking on his pointer finger, looking up at him through your lashes. His breathing was erratic and he watched you hungrily, his sharp teeth biting into his lower lip and pricking the skin.

“I’m so close,” You moaned. “I’m going to cum.”

He nodded as if in agreement, squeezing his eyes shut. He grimaced as if in pain, but then shouted, roaring, and released inside of you. It was a torrent, spraying out of you. Another few hip thrusts and circles around your clit, you came too, your head thrown back against the bed, crying out.

He pulled out and turned his head, resting it against your stomach as his arms gripped your sides, breathing hard. After a moment, you both sat up, and you realized that his legs were covered with his own release.

“Wanna get cleaned up?” You asked him.

“Yeah,” He said dreamily, standing up and leading you into the bathroom. You took a shower together, helping him clean himself. He did the same for you, kneeling down and washing your body. The way he knelt in front of you combine with the way he looked at you, it almost felt like he was worshiping you. Honestly, you didn’t mind that at all.

Your underwear would have to be washed, but he said you could borrow one of his shirts, if you wanted to. Honestly, you were happy to lounge in his bed naked. He seemed happy with that, too.

“When would you like to go?” You asked him, laying on his chest and playing with his chest hair. “To Morocco, I mean?”

“Soon,” He said, entwining his fingers in your hair. “I’ll put in for vacation time as soon as I get back to the office. I don’t really take vacations, so I’m sure my colleagues will be surprised.”

You smiled and kissed his skin. “I’ll have to put in for time off, too,” You said. “Although, I only just started working there six months ago, so they may not approve it.”

“Let me know when they do and I’ll schedule for the same time,” He said.

“Sounds good to me,” He said, sitting up and crossing his legs, looking down at you. You posed a little for him and he grinned, running his hands up and down the soft skin of your torso and belly. “You know what I’d like to do right now, though?”

“What’s that?” You asked.

“I want to take you on a date,” He said, smiling softly. “A real one. I'll pay and everything. And I want to be able to kiss you.”

You smiled back at him. “Deal.”

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[immersionfrancaise]

Hey! A tip for starting to learn Arabic?

I feel like I'm not the right person to ask because I started by moving to Jordan. I knew three phrases when I landed (سلام, شكرا, إن شاء الله), and I started Arabic lessons four days later. At my new job, most people I worked with didn't speak English, so I was somewhat forced to learn.

I do have a few tips from my experience, however:

I started with the Arabic alphabet, and I never used transliteration. I think this helped me learn Arabic as its own system, rather than thinking about Arabic in English. It helped my pronunciation too because I wasn't trying to compare every Arabic phoneme to an English one when many of them are not in the English language.

Choose which variation you want to study and focus on that. The dialects can be very different from each other. My husband lived in Morocco for a while, and the dialect of Arabic that he learned is basically useless here in Jordan. I started with the Levantine dialect, not with MSA. Many people who study in university will learn the standard, and that can be good if you don't have a specific speech group of Arabic speakers that you are hoping to communicate with. If you speak MSA, most Arabic speakers will understand you, even if you can't understand them. I knew I was going to mostly speaking Arabic to Jordanians, though, so I studied their dialect. Learning a dialect lets you understand how people really talk, but it may be less transferrable to other Arabic-speaking groups.

Take the long view. Learning Arabic is challenging. It may be easier coming from other languages, but if you're starting from English, like I did, it's hard. For six months of immersion and two-hour Arabic lessons every other day, I felt like I had no clue. After six months, I started for the first time to feel like I was getting it. So be patient with yourself. Find ways to make it fun and meaningful. It's a beautiful language, and appreciating the logic and elegance of it helped me, as did making Arab friends that I could connect with in their language.

[evenmoregreener]

Questionnaire of Laruku from B-PASS magazine (March. 1995)

Another translation of a translation from Russian. This "interview" was translated for Russian l'arc fan-club in 2018. I haven't found any other English translations on the net, so I decided that it will be interesting for you to read something like this. All credits are down below, big thank you to the original translator, what a great woman! 

The original Russian text has some typos plus English isn't my first language, that's why text might seem a bit of strange. About special signs: (translator's note) - notes of an original translator; "*" - my own notes; (?) - neither me nor the original translator understood the context. Please, enjoy!

1. Date of birth Hyde: 13th of Friday Tetsu: 3 of October Ken: 28th of November, Sagittarius Sakura: Secret 2. Blood type Н: Color of the blood - red Т: А or 0 К: АВ S: The hot blood of a man runs in my veins 3. Place of birth Н: Jelsarem's Rod Т: Kansai К: Alaska’s native S: Kingdom of Nerima (Nerima is a ward in Tokyo, where Sakura was born - translator's note) 4. Height, weight, shoe size, visual acuity Н: “?” Т: Small, light, 24,5 – 25 cm К: 178 cm, 56 kg, shoe – 25,5 cm S: 5 feet 8 inches, 120 feet, 10 inches, about 1,0 and 1,0 5. Body size Н: As in the previous Т: I don’t know К: I prefer В 85, W 58 H 88 S: “Nice body” 6. Which musical instruments and how many years do you play? Н: I've been playing guitar for 9 years Т: 11 years on bass К: From about high school S: Secret 7. Where did you work? Н: Mister Donats Т: At the record store К: Jewelry store, tutor S: Secret 8. Skills Н: Shaolin martial arts, second dan Т: Calligraphy К: Youth baseball S: Secret 9. Hobby and special abilities (besides music) Н: Bite Т: Radio controlled models К: Tetris S: To make people do something

10. Philosophy of life Н: Do not stick sticks into the rice Т: I sleep today for tomorrow, tomorrow I sleep for today. (a phrase from manga - translator's note) К: Hurry slowly S: Live today 11. Real name Н: Jiji Т: Teppi К: Jakenosuke S: Sakurajima Samuel Tarot

12. Favorite musicians Н: Depeche mode Т: Me К: The The (an English new wave band — translator's note) S: Ishihara Yūjirō (Japanese actor, singer, film producer - translator's note) 13. Favorite celebrity Н: Takeda Tetsuya (Japanese singer and actor - translator's note) Т: Me К: Isshiki Sae (Japanese actress — translator's note) S: Saburo Ishikura (Japanese actor - translator's note) 14. Respected people Н: Yoshitada Hirai * Т: Me К: Professor Ichinose S: Takakura Ken (Japanese actor - translator's note) 15. Favorite films and films that you’ve recently watched Н: The Omen. Recently watched Jurassic Park. Т: Favorite film – The Outsider, recently watched “Cría cuervos” (Spanish film of 1976 - translator's note) К: Perfect World, cried when watched, although usually I don't cry during films S: Jingi Naki Tatakai (Battles Without Honor and Humanity) 16. Favorite books (including manga) and books that you’ve recently read Н: Stephen King. Recently read compilation that’s called Night Souls (?). Pretty interesting. Т: «Harper’s Bazaar», Vogue Italia, recently read Matsumoto Hitoshi’s “Isho”. К: «Kirin», about motorcycles, novels for men. It’s a bit of awkward, but I buy Young Rose which I love to read for a long time. S: I can't list everything. 17. Alcohol and tobacco Н: Both, about 10 years already. Alcohol – a little, tobacco – one piece. ** Т: I don’t smoke. Alcohol – yes, except sake, I drink rarely though. К: I love Kassis, always have it at home, drink 2-3 times a week. I don’t smoke right now. S: Any alcohol, I can drink a lot. Per day I smoke more than two packs (Seven Star) 18. Do you love animals? Do you have any pets? Н: I do, but I have allergy. Т: I do. I had 5 dogs and one cat, now I don’t. К: I love obedient and loving. S: More than pets I love girls. 19. The concert that left the strongest impression Н: GASTUNK in EGG PLANT (legendary club in Osaka of 80’s - translator's note) Т: Shiki-Yakou (the name of tour Dead End of 1985) К: In Aichi Kinrou Kaikan (concert hall in Nagoya — translator's note) S: Radio concert Anikies (Dankon Anikies – fictional band that was made up by ken, sakura and kyo (Die in Cries), when ken and sakura were guests at kyo’s radio program «kyo MIDNIGHT　ROCK　CITY» on 9th of December, 1994 - translator's note) 20. Three most beloved albums Н: Some Great Reward of Depeche Mode, God’s Own Medicine of The Mission, La Vie En Rose of D'erlanger*** Т: Laruku’s new album, Tierra, Dune К: Black Sabath – Heaven & Hell; Cure - Disintegration; Kisugi Takao (Japanese singer and composer - translator's note) - Best collection S: Secret 21. Recently bought CDs and your impressions of them Н: No Т: Second Coming/The Stone Roses К: Suede (Britpop band - translator's note) S: Secret 22. Concert that you visited recently Н: Haven't been on the concerts for about a year, but sometimes before Shibuya live watched Modern Choki Chokies (a Japanese pop band from the early 1990s - translator's note) Т: Echobelly (a British rock band — translator's note) К: kyo-chan’s solo S: Secret 23. TV shows that you often watch and radio shows that you often listen to Н: Doramas and MIDNIGHT ROCK CITY Т: TV – BEAT UK, I don't listen to radio К: Yoru-ni dakarete (dorama of 1994 - translator's note), though it has already ended. I don’t listen to radio, since I don’t have one S: I’m interested neither in TV nor radio 24. Favorite dish, favorite color and flower Н: Japanese cuisine. Monochrome color. Flowers that grow well in an apartment, even if they are not watered Т: Sushi, tillandsia, cacti, I like all of the colors К: Favorite dish – ice cream, caviar, sushi. Favorite flower – orchid. Favorite color – silver S: Anton rib (dish that was mentioned in Kinnikuman - translator's note), sakura, black 25. Musical instruments that you can play and ones that you want to learn to play Н: Guitar, bass, acoustic guitar, would like to learn to play flute. Т: Several guitars and basses К: Guitar, bass, synthesizer. Would like to learn how to play saxophone S: Variety which you can find in stores 26. Thing that you want the most right now Н: Hot blood of some girl. Т: Sharp Zaurus P1-5000 К: Onsen, pool S: “?” 27. How do you spend your weekend? Н: Sleep Т: Vacantly К: Go back and forth S: Stay under the waterfall 28. What do you do when you are all alone at home? Н: Sleep and writing lyrics Т: Play the guitar, listen to music К: Watch TV… S: Drumming Japanese drums 29. A dream that you have seen lately. Н: Back at night souls of dead sheep were hurrying through the window, I was worried where they are going. I told Sakura: when the sheep will come back, let’s go after them, but they didn’t come back. Т: A dream where I somehow ended up eating sushi in America. К: Relocation S: In loincloth and a bandage on the head I wandered in a stormy sea. And that was awesome! 30. Most attractive feature Н: Compact, compact and compact Т: “?” К: Ankles. Strong side: strong legs. Weak side: often catch cold. S: 31. Role in the band. Н: Probably, bringing everybody together Т: President К: Am-group (?) S: Educator of the head of singing monkeys 32. Describe in one word what Laruku is Н: Cloudy sky after heavy rain Т: Rock band К: Rainbow S: Soul of a man 33. What do you expect from the other band members? Н: I’d like everybody to stay as healthy as they are now Т: Perfection К: Rainbow! S: Soul of a man 34. Where do you want to go abroad? Н: Paris Т: To America К: Any countries where I could live. To drive back and forth S: Country on the shore of the Japanese Sea 35. Where have you been? Where have you recently traveled? Н: During the vacation in September traveled to Nagano to visit Osamu's house four years later, I would like to live calmly in the district of Karuizawa station. Т: To Okinawa. It was beautiful. К: Morocco. It was hot. S: In Morocco I saw the waves of the Atlantic Ocean 36. What do you recommend to see in your hometown? Н: On the roof of Nisshou haitsu Т: A lot of yankees. К: The view on the fast stream S: Secret 37. Enjoyable things that you like during tours (except for concerts) Н: Food Т: Except for concerts, nothing (laughs) К: You can overeat S: Meet different locals with the soul of a man 38. What do you definitely do before the concert, what do you pay special attention to? Н: I am in a deep thought Т: I listen to Metallica at full volume К: Going to a toilet S: Warm up and stretch of the muscles 39. What do you pay special attention to before the interview? Н: I find out the topic Т: So as not to be late К: I try to be serious S: Worried about whether I can express and tell about my masculine soul 40. What do you carry with you all the time? Н: Watch and two bracelets because I like them Т: Nothing К: Bracelet, necklace - I feel uncomfortable without them S: Pants 41. Memorable thing Н: The bracelet that I bought when I first came abroad. I really wanted it, but pretended that I am not interested, and bargained. But since there is no set price, I don’t know if it’s cheap or not. Т: No К: Various guitars, they are associated with different memories. S: Secret 42. Three biggest news in the last six months Н: 1. Motoka’s wedding. 2. The house in front of my window was demolished. 3. Because of the house, which has now been built, the lighting has become worse. Т: Promotion trip; creation of an official fan club; award from the director! К: Couldn't go to the sea. Swam in a pool in Morocco. Was in onsen. S: Secret 43. Plans for the end of the previous year and the beginning of the new Н: Composing music and lyrics Т: Car driving and karaoke К: Continue visiting onsen. S: Polish my masculine soul 44. Your personal plans for 1995 Н: Enjoy work Т: Become an artist № 1 К: Necessarily swim in the sea. Master the butterfly S: Gain a soul of a man 45. Music that you listened to this morning or last night Н: Laruku’s new song T: Morning call from the manager K: Maribeth S: Pink Floyd 46. Dish that turns out well when you are cooking Н: Chinese cuisine Т: I can't cook К: Ikuradon S: Sashimi 47. The image of the ideal woman Н: An optimistic and domestic woman Т: No К: Fujiko-chan S: That looks like Shiraishi Hitomi (Japanese actress - translator's note) 48. Favorite sport Н: No Т: No К: No S: Judo 49. If I were born again... Н: I would like to become an astronaut and fly into space Т: I would like to be genius К: I would like to be a dolphin S: I would like to be a woman, in order to live and not talk nevermore about the "soul of a man" 50. Goals in life Н: Enjoy the rest of the years Т: It’s a secret К: Live a long life S: Soul of a man 51. One word for readers of our magazine Н: If you're not careful, I'll bite you! Т: Nice to meet you К: Hello, this is Ken. I'll continue in answer 52 S: Life in a loincloth and headband 52. Free theme Н: Woof Т: Nowadays Laruku are fully different! К: In 1996 I want to perform a lot at concerts. That is why we definitely will meet, so look forward! S: And this year there will be Anikies!

* Marked in credits to HYDE’s “Roentgen” album as an art director and designer. ** Probably he meant one pack. *** Was covered by HYDE in D’ERLANGER TRIBUTE ALBUM ~Stairway to Heaven~.

Translation from Japanese: Liubov Chachanidze aka Diana_ Translation into English by me (The Green Explosion inc.)  

Original: https://diary.ru/~l20arc-en-ciel/p216393417_anketa-iz-zhurnala-b-pass-za-mart-1995-goda.htm

[royalpain16]

Her Majesty's Most Gracious Speech, The Queen's Christmas messages

1952 The Queen broadcast her first Christmas Message live on the radio from her study at Sandringham, Norfolk. She thanked the nation for the "loyalty and affection" they had shown since her accession to the throne ten months previously, asked for the nation’s prayers on her coronation day the following June and paid tribute to her late father, King George VI. She also said she wanted to see the "tremendous forces of science and learning" used for the "betterment of man's lot upon this earth."

1953 The speech was recorded in Auckland, New Zealand, where the Queen and Prince Philip had arrived two days before as part of a six tour of the Commonwealth. The Queen said she was missing spending Christmas with her children at home and hoped they were listening to her broadcast. She said she didn't feel much like her predecessor, Queen Elizabeth I, who had “ruled as a despot and was never able to leave her native shores.”

1954 The Queen's Christmas Broadcast in 1954 came at the end of a year in which Her Majesty and Prince Philip had travelled around the world, from Bermuda to Uganda. As in 1952, The Queen made her broadcast from her study at Sandringham, Norfolk.

1955 In 1955 The Queen's Christmas Message was broadcast live from her study at Sandringham. Her theme was the opportunities arising from membership of the Commonwealth of Nations.

1956 On Christmas Day in 1956 The Duke of Edinburgh was away from home on a voyage around the Commonwealth on BRITANNIA. Prince Philip spoke on the radio from the Royal yacht before The Queen made her broadcast live from her study in Sandringham, Norfolk.

1957 The 1957 Christmas broadcast was a historic event as it was the first to be televised. The broadcast was made live from the Long Library at Sandringham, Norfolk. The Queen said she hoped the “new medium” of television would make her Christmas message “more personal and direct.” She compared her role to the role of past monarch’s, saying: “I cannot lead you into battle, I do not give you laws or administer justice but I can do something else, I can give you my heart and my devotion.

1958 The speech, broadcast live from the Long Library at Sandringham, Norfolk, focused on the travels soon to be made around the Commonwealth by the Queen and members of the Royal Family. The Queen said she would like to see her children “grow up as normally as possible” so that they would be able to serve the Commonwealth faithfully. She said that the “spiritual and intellectual aspirations of mankind” had been inspired throughout history “by prophets and dreamers

1959 The Queen's Christmas Broadcast in 1959 took the form of a prerecorded radio message instead of a television broadcast. The Queen was pregnant with her third child, Prince Andrew, who was born the following February.

1960 The Queen spoke of the arrival of her third son, Prince Andrew, in February. She alluded to the horrific earthquake in Morocco which killed 12,000 people. She thanked the people for the “telegrams and letters” that had come flooding in following the birth of Prince Andrew. She congratulated Nigeria for achieving full self-government in “peace and good will” and thanked the country for choosing to remain a member of the Commonwealth.

1961 The Queen reflected on her six-week tour of India, Pakistan, Nepal and Iran, and her visit to the Vatican City earlier in the year. She said that Christmas provided an escape “from the harsh realities of this troubled world” but the future could not be addressed by “condemning the past or by contracting out of the present.” She said current problems would not improve if “young people merely express themselves by indifference or by revulsion against what they regard as an out-of-date order of things.”

1962 The broadcast from Buckingham Palace referred to the recent successes in space, including the launch of the first active communications satellite, which made it possible to broadcast television images and news around the world almost instantly. The queen said the year had seen many “wonders in technical and space research”, but questioned the purpose of the technological developments while there were still “lonely people living in the same street.” She spoke of religion, saying that some people were “uncertain which star to follow, or if any star is worth following at all.”

1963 The Queen's Christmas Broadcast in 1963 was made by radio, as she was pregnant with her fourth child, Prince Edward, who was born in the March of the following year.

Since my last message of Christmas greetings to you all, the world has witnessed many great events and sweeping changes, but they are already part of the long record of history.

The message of Christmas remains the same. The Queen went on to mention efforts throughout the Commonwealth to free the world from hunger.

1964 The Queen's Christmas Broadcast in 1964 addressed the important role of the Commonwealth in a year in which anti-apartheid leader Nelson Mandela was jailed in South Africa, and Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru died.

As I begin my Christmas Broadcast to you, the people of Great Britain and of the other Commonwealth countries, my mind travels far away, and for one moment I seem to be with you in many countries, which are now almost as familiar as my own native land.

----The Royal family in 1965----

1965 The Queen's Christmas Broadcast in 1965 took as its theme the family, from the individual unit to the family of man. It was broadcast from Buckingham Palace.

Every year the familiar pattern of Christmas unfolds. The sights and the customs and festivities may seem very much the same from one year to another, and yet to families and individuals each Christmas is slightly different.

Part 1

[bitesizebookreviews]

The Nobleman’s Guide to Scandal and Shipwrecks

The Nobleman’s Guide to Scandal and Shipwrecks

Mackenzi Lee

592 pages

Katherine Tegen Books, 2021

“I’m not going to spend the rest of my life heaving myself up this goddamn mountain when everyone else gets a flat country road. Something is wrong with me, and I’m either going to fix it or it’s going to kill me. I won’t go away or heal or get better. I’m either broken or I’m not.” 

The third, and youngest, Montague sibling finally gets his own book. The First two installments can be read about here and here.  In the last book, Adrian Montague was just a baby. This book finds him an adult, a passionate writer of liberal politics, engaged to be married, nearly ready to take his father’s place in the House of Lords. But the thing that really defines him is his mental illness. (Today we’d likely say he has OCD and anxiety, but those weren’t actual diagnoses in the 18th Century). Adrian’s brain makes day-to-day living extremely difficult. 

Adrian’s mother died six months before the start of this book, and to say he isn’t handling it well is an understatement. When her belongings are returned to him, it includes a broken spyglass that she was never without. This spyglass becomes an object of Adrian’s obsession, and the start of a mystery that he can’t let go. He discovers that he has two older siblings, and he and his newfound brother Monty travel to Morocco, Portugal (where they find Felicity) and Iceland to try to uncover this mystery of exactly how their mother died. But Adrian’s mental health, and the secrets that Monty holds could put everything in jeopardy. 

Every single book in this series has been so much fun. This one took a slightly more serious tone, with Adrian’s mental health almost taking the forefront of the story even above the spyglass mystery. It’s still written nicely and with a lot of character development. Even Monty and Felicity - nearly two decades older than Adrian- still get to do some growing up. It’s lovely when a found family trope in literature is an actual blood-related family. 

[three--rings]

Last night I was driving home in the dark and I started thinking about my favorite professor from college. 

He taught French, and it was a few months after I met him that I realized he was actually American, because I hadn’t heard him speak English.  He was a little man in his 50s, and the word I associate with him is fastidious.  He always wore this long camelhair coat, with stylish scarves and neat clothes, and BRIGHT WHITE Nike sneakers.  He took the train to campus and had to walk a good ways so he sacrificed his fashion for comfort. 

He was also obviously gay.  I couldn’t tell you how it was obvious other than it was. 

The class was small, as it was a higher level French course on a small campus: just six girls and him.  And we were together for an entire year, two semesters, so we all got pretty close.  We even had class at his apartment in Manhattan twice, to make up for missed classes.  It might have been odd, in another context, for a professor to invite young women to his apartment like that, to offer them wine...but it wasn’t sketchy in the slightest because we understood he was no threat to us.  

In his amazing rent controlled apartment on the lower east side, he served us baguette and brie and cheese.  Super classy.  But one of my fellow students, who arrived early to help him set up reported that when she got there the only thing in his fridge was a 40oz bottle of Olde English malt liquor. 

We went to the opera together as a class, because we were studying Moliere’s play Dom Juan and the Met was doing Don Giovanni that season.  We also went to the zoo for absolutely no reason other than we complained about him teaching us a bunch of depressing literature so he said “OK, in spring, I’ll take you to the zoo.  I like the tamarins.  When I lived in South America with my friend our building had a tamarin in a cage on the ground floor.”  So we did. 

The strange thing, strange even to us 20 years ago, was that he was closeted.  It was a liberal university, definitely none of us in his class would have been either surprised or disturbed if he had been open about his sexuality, but he was always very careful.

He even played the pronoun game IN FRENCH.  He had to cancel class once before spring break and he gave us a long speech about how he was in love with someone, but that person lived in Morocco and couldn’t get a visa to come to the US, so he had to fly there and the only flight he could get was before our last class.  After class we all gathered to play our favorite game “Speculate About Monsieur’s Private Life” and concluded he’d gotten through the entire conversation without ever dropping a pronoun or gendered noun.  Somehow. 

When we went to his apartment, there was a picture on a bookshelf of a young, very attractive young man in his 20s.  One bold classmate asked “Oh, who’s that?” and he replied “That’s my Moroccan family.”  We all decided that was a picture of his hot, younger boyfriend, though now, with the intervening 20 years of insight, I wonder if that was more like his significant other’s son or nephew or something.  I mean maybe he had a hot boytoy 20-30 years younger than him, but maybe it really was just family.  Maybe the pictures of his lover were in a more private part of his home.

So I was thinking about this man, with his little fussy ways and the incredibly sincere way he talked about being in love with someone he couldn’t be with all year round.  And I wondered what ever happened to him.  Are they still together?  After Obergefell did they ever manage to get married and did his love have any luck immigrating? 

I hope he’s well.  One of my other favorite professors died of Covid-19 this past year.  As for my French professor, he has a very common name and all I can discover is that he left the college less than a decade after I knew him. 

I hope he’s still living the good life.  I hope he’s in that miracle of an apartment, with cats that still walk along the top of the drapery rods, and I hope he’s not alone.  Or maybe he’s retired to Morocco to be with his Moroccan family. I hope so. 

[roseforthethorns]

Like a Phoenix/ Morocco

It had been a very long time since Bond had needed to just disappear. It was certainly the first time he had done this since he and Q had been together. Usually he just blew up a city block, finished the job, and then just came home. But this time, he’d been injured and forced to go to ground.

It had been an entire month stuck in Marrakesh. The first week had been high alert hiding as he had bandaged himself up and tried to recover. He had barely escaped the trap and had to sew up a few particularly deep gashes, at least one of which was guaranteed to scar. On top of everything, his tech had been forcibly taken when he’d been captured, so he had no easy means of contacting MI6 and letting them know his status. Or what he had learned.

Because he might be hiding in Marrakesh, but his target was here too. The bastard was hiding in plain sight in the Souk Semmarine as a merchant. It was perfect for completing deals under the guise of legitimate business. And Bond needed a new plan because the man knew his face now and would see Bond coming. No, he needed a plan, and for that he needed a bloody working radio.

He was sleeping, catching a brief nap before he would scout out the Souk after the target had closed up shop for the day when he heard a key scraping in a lock.

Instinct and training kicked in, and Bond was awake, Walther in hand and trained on the door.

And Q walked in, Eve by his side.

Bond blinked, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. Eve was already doing a sweep of the flat, just to check and take stock. Q was by his side and checking him over, seeing the bandages and asking cursory questions about the mission. Bond wasn’t listening. He just pulled Q close and kissed him, hard, then hugged him close to reassure himself that Q truly was there.

“What are you both doing here? I haven’t been able to contact Six-“

“I’ve spent the past month working to track you down, with Eve’s help. She called in a few favors and was able to track you to Morocco, then I was able to narrow down the possible bolt holes in Marrakesh. It helped that some of the underground chatter confirmed that the target is here. What do you know?”

Agent mode kicked in, and Bond reported what he knew and what he had concluded. He also filled them in on the trap and explosion that had faked his death. “You both found me before I could come back from the dead yet again.”

Eve punched him in the shoulder and pulled out her mobile. “R is helping run the op from Q-Branch, and Q was even convinced to fly down here and oversee the rest of this on the ground. You owe him.”

“You flew?” Bond asked quietly, feeling Q’s pulse pick up from where Bond had gently captured his wrist as a grounding point.

Q nodded, jaw set and tense. “Don’t remind me. But there was a chance you were alive and that I could bring my agent back.” There was something in Q’s voice that neither one of them was quite willing to acknowledge. Not until the job was done. Once they were back on British soil, they could talk. Right now they had to focus.

And of course they finished the job.

Eve was perfect to go undercover because the target didn’t know her face, and with Q running interference and wreaking havoc with an entire city grid, Bond retrieved the information and shut down the weapons ring. They didn’t even blow anything up.

Q secured them a private jet to go back to Six, and Bond watched silently as his Quartermaster took a very large dose of anti-anxiety medication and buckled into the seat. Even with the meds, Q was trembling and glancing fretfully around the plane. So Bond took Q’s hand in his, holding it firmly. “If anything were to happen, we would be out the emergency door and parachuting to safety. You have my word on that, Q. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“This is far from a rational fear, Bond,” Q said, but his voice was tight. Bond knew Q was facing a really terrible fear and that he had done this just for Bond…

“How about I distract you with a full mission report? I’ll talk the whole time, and I won’t let go of your hand. You can even keep your eyes closed.”

The plane began to move, and Q jumped with a small, stifled scream. He nodded, clearly anxious for any kind of distraction. He was even holding tightly to Bond’s offered hand. Bond began talking, describing everything that had happened from the moment he had lost his tech.

“What kept me going other than knowing the job wasn’t done,” Bond murmured, “was that I needed to tell you I was alive. I even considered that it would be worth not doing my usual phoenix from the ashes routine. Because you deserve better than that, Q.”

“I didn’t stop looking for you,” Q whispered back, eyes shut tight and breathing shallow. Clearly the dosage of the meds wasn’t enough for this particular fear.

“I knew you wouldn’t. That’s part of what I like about you, Q. You help bring us agents back from the dead. It’s about time I started being there more… after all, if I had died, I think you would have brought me back anyway just to kill me again.”

That caused a small, sardonic twist of Q’s lip. “We would have found something of you at the scene if you had died. When there’s no sign of you, that always means you’re alive.”

“Q… Q what if I retired? Put an end to my resurrections and just stayed in England? With you?”

“Bond, if you made me get on a god forsaken plane just to tell me you want to retire-”

“I mean it, Q. I’ll teach. I’ll train recruits. I’ll help test things in R&D.”

“But-”

“Q. Some things matter more than one more job. I don’t want to lose whatever we are. Because with you, I think I have a chance at living again.”

[greekroyalfamily]

Happy 82 birth day to HRH Prince Michael of Greece and Denmark, who is born 7 January 1939 he is the author of several historical books and biographies of Greek and other European figures, in addition to working as a contributing writer to Architectural Digest. He is the first cousin of the late Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, consort of Queen Elizabeth II.

He was born in Rome to Prince Christopher of Greece and Denmark (youngest son of King George I of Greece) and his second wife Princess Françoise d'Orléans of France (daughter of the Orleanist claimant to the defunct French throne, Prince Jean d'Orléans, Duke of Guise). His godparents were his two first cousins Queen Helen, Queen Mother of Romania and King George II of Greece (eldest children of his paternal uncle King Constantine I).

His father died when he was a year old, leaving Michael an only child, and his mother died in 1953 when he was 14, leaving him an orphan. Although a Greek prince, like many members of his dynasty he grew up largely abroad, sometimes in exile. As Europe marched into World War II, the infant Michael's family scattered: his mother's father, the Duke of Guise, left his residence of exile in Brussels, the Manoir d'Anjou, for their property at Larache, Morocco in March 1939 where he died on 24 August, the Manoir having become the Belgian headquarters for Germany's invading Wehrmacht. Less than six months after her father's death, Françoise was widowed by the death of Prince Christopher, following an abscess of the lung, in Athens in January. She took Michael to join her mother's household in Larache where her elder sister, Princess Isabelle Murat and her family, had also taken refuge from Europe. Their brother, Henri, Count of Paris, who succeeded his own father as head of the Orleanist monarchist movement, sent for his wife and children to come from their relatives in Brazil, and by the spring of 1941 they too were settled in Spanish Morocco (still being banned from the French sector), near Casablanca, in a small house without electricity that was named Oued Akreech in the town of Rabat. Michael lived his early childhood years on the African continent in the midst of his mother's family. Later, they also spent time in Spain.

By the time Michael's mother died in Paris in early 1953, France had repealed the law of banishment against its former ruling families (24 June 1950) and the Comte de Paris had taken up residence in the capital. When, in August 1953, Monseigneur moved the Comtesse and their children to a new estate, the Manoir du Cœur Volant in Louveciennes, Michael joined the couple and their four eldest children in the main building, while the seven younger children and their governesses occupied an annex given the name la maison de Blanche Neige ("Snow White's cottage"). Henceforth, Michael was given into the care of his uncle and raised with his Orléans cousins.

Michael later acknowledged that his uncle had been a poor manager of his ward's assets, but maintained that there was no malfeasance or attempt to conceal losses. He would also comment that, allegations to the contrary notwithstanding, his uncle's notorious relationship with his assistant Monique Friesz in his later years, during which substantial assets were presumed to have been consumed or diverted, did not reflect manipulation on her part so much as the desire of the Comte de Paris for companionship when he chose to isolate himself from the society, culture and luxury to which he had previously been accustomed.

After the death of HRH Prince Philip Duke of Edinburg née Prince of Greece and Denmark last year Prince Michael is the last surviving grandchild of George I of Greece and one of the 2 last surviving great-grandchildren of Christian IX of Denmark (the other is his second cousin Christian Castenskiold, son of Princess Dagmar of Denmark).

Michael studied political science in Paris.

He then re-patriated to Greece for military duty,[6] serving a term in the Hellenic Coast Guard, discharged with the rank of Sub-lieutenant.

He inherited from his mother a half-interest in the domain of the Nouvion-en-Thiérache, once the seat of the Dukes of Guise, from whom the Bourbon-Orléans inherited the vast property, which included a grand château and a petit château, in Aisne. The Comte de Paris owned the other half of the Nouvion. He and Michael sold the grand château in 1980 to the city of Roubaix, which subsequently became a conference center for environmental studies, while the petit château was sold in 1986 to the local government of Nouvion.

Having watched his mother observe a family tradition by igniting what he called a kind of auto-da-fé in which she burned his late father's papers and memorabilia following the sale of his villa in Rome after the war, Prince Michael grew up to become a biographer and historian. He has written several biographies about members of ruling dynasties, those about contemporaries often including accounts and anecdotes attributed to his royal relatives.

He has also written novels about historical royalty, distinguished for meticulous detail.

In English:

Sultana (1983, reprinted several times)

Louis XIV, the other side of the sun (1984)

Rani, La femme sacrée, a novelised but well documented biography of the Rani of Jhansi (French: 1984 ; English: 2013)

The royal house of Greece (1988), illustrated album

Living with ghosts (1995)

The Empress of Farewells: the story of Charlotte, Empress of Mexico (1998)

The White Night of St. Petersburg (2000), historical novel

Jewels of the Tsars (2006), illustrated album

Le Rajah Bourbon (2007)

Voices of light (2012), illustrated by Marina Karella

(9th Collage)

Michael married Marina Karella (b. 17 July 1940) on 7 February 1965 in Athens, daughter of Theodore Karella and Ellie Chalikiopoulos. Marina is a Greek artist and sculptor of international reputation whose work has often been exhibited in Athens, Paris and New York. The marriage was held at the Royal Palace in Athens. This was a non-dynastic marriage, which obtained the legally required authorisation of King Constantine II only after Michael renounced all rights of succession to the Greek throne for himself and his descendants.

The couple has two daughters:

Princess Alexandra Elli Francisca Maria of Greece (born 15 October 1968), married to Nicolas Mirzayantz on 27 June 1998. They have two sons: Tigran (16 August 2000) and Darius (April 2002).

Princess Olga of Greece (born 17 November 1971), married in 2008 to her second cousin Prince Aimone of Savoy, 6th Duke of Aosta, a member of the former royal family of Italy.Aimone and Olga are the parents of two sons, Prince Umberto (b. 7 March 2009) and Prince Amedeo (b. 2011), and of a daughter, Princess Isabella (b 2012)

(7th Collage)

Χρόνια πολλά για τα 82 γενέθλια στην ΑΒΥ Πρίγκιπα Μιχαήλ της Ελλάδας και της Δανίας, ο οποίος γεννήθηκε στις 7 Ιανουαρίου 1939. Είναι συγγραφέας πολλών ιστορικών βιβλίων και βιογραφιών Ελλήνων και άλλων ευρωπαϊκών προσωπικοτήτων, εκτός από το ότι εργάζεται ως συγγραφέας στο Architectural Digest. Είναι ο πρώτος ξάδερφος του αείμνηστου πρίγκιπα Φιλίππου, δούκα του Εδιμβούργου, σύζυγος της βασίλισσας Ελισάβετ Β'.

Γεννήθηκε στη Ρώμη από τον Πρίγκιπα Χριστόφορο της Ελλάδας και της Δανίας (νεότερος γιος του Βασιλιά Γεωργίου Α΄ της Ελλάδας) και τη δεύτερη σύζυγό του, Πριγκίπισσα Φραγκισκης της Ορλεάνης της Γαλλίας (κόρη του Ορλεανιστή που διεκδικεί τον έκπτωτο γαλλικό θρόνο, πρίγκιπα Ζαν ντ' Ορλεάνη), Δούκισσα του Γκίζ. Νονοί του ήταν τα δύο πρώτα του ξαδέρφια Βασίλισσα Ελένη, Βασίλισσα Μητέρα της Ρουμανίας και ο Βασιλιάς Γεώργιος Β' της Ελλάδας (μεγαλύτερα παιδιά του θείου του από τον πατέρα του, Βασιλιά Κωνσταντίνου Α').

Ο πατέρας του πέθανε όταν ήταν ενός έτους, αφήνοντας τον Μιχαήλ μοναχοπαίδι και η μητέρα του πέθανε το 1953 όταν ήταν 14 ετών, αφήνοντάς τον ορφανό. Αν και Έλληνας πρίγκιπας, όπως και πολλά μέλη της δυναστείας του, μεγάλωσε σε μεγάλο βαθμό στο εξωτερικό, μερικές φορές στην εξορία. Καθώς η Ευρώπη βάδιζε στον Β' Παγκόσμιο Πόλεμο, η οικογένεια του βρέφους Μιχαήλ διασκορπίστηκε: ο πατέρας της μητέρας του, ο δούκας του Γκιζ, άφησε την κατοικία του στις Βρυξέλλες, το Manoir d'Anjou, για την περιουσία τους στο Larache του Μαρόκου τον Μάρτιο του 1939 όπου πέθανε. στις 24 Αυγούστου, το Manoir είχε γίνει το βελγικό αρχηγείο της γερμανικής εισβολής Βέρμαχτ. Λιγότερο από έξι μήνες μετά το θάνατο του πατέρα της, η Φρανσουάζ έμεινε χήρα από τον θάνατο του πρίγκιπα Χριστόφορου, μετά από ένα απόστημα στον πνεύμονα, στην Αθήνα τον Ιανουάριο. Πήρε τον Μιχαήλ για να πάει στο σπίτι της μητέρας της στο Larache, όπου η μεγαλύτερη αδερφή της, πριγκίπισσα Isabelle Murat και η οικογένειά της, είχαν επίσης καταφύγει από την Ευρώπη. Ο αδερφός τους, Henri, κόμης του Παρισιού, ο οποίος διαδέχθηκε τον πατέρα του ως επικεφαλής του ορλεανιστικού μοναρχικού κινήματος, έστειλε τη γυναίκα και τα παιδιά του να έρθουν από τους συγγενείς τους στη Βραζιλία, και την άνοιξη του 1941 εγκαταστάθηκαν επίσης στο ισπανικό Μαρόκο ( εξακολουθεί να είναι απαγορευμένο από τον γαλλικό τομέα), κοντά στην Καζαμπλάνκα, σε ένα μικρό σπίτι χωρίς ηλεκτρικό ρεύμα που ονομαζόταν Oued Akreech στην πόλη Ραμπάτ. Ο Μιχάηλ έζησε τα πρώτα παιδικά του χρόνια στην αφρικανική ήπειρο στην οικογένεια της μητέρας του. Αργότερα πέρασαν χρόνο και στην Ισπανία.

Μέχρι τη στιγμή που η μητέρα του Μιχαήλ πέθανε στο Παρίσι στις αρχές του 1953, η Γαλλία είχε καταργήσει τον νόμο της εξορίας κατά των πρώην κυρίαρχων οικογενειών της (24 Ιουνίου 1950) και ο Κομης των Παρισιων είχε εγκατασταθεί στην πρωτεύουσα. Όταν, τον Αύγουστο του 1953, ο Monseigneur μετέφερε την Κόμισσα και τα παιδιά τους σε ένα νέο κτήμα, το Manoir du Cœur Volant στη Louveciennes, ο Mιχαηλ ενώθηκε με το ζευγάρι και τα τέσσερα μεγαλύτερα παιδιά τους στο κεντρικό κτίριο, ενώ τα επτά μικρότερα παιδιά και οι γκουβερνάντες τους κατέλαβαν ένα παράρτημα με το όνομα la maison de Blanche Neige («Το εξοχικό της Χιονάτης»). Στο εξής, ο Μιχαήλ δόθηκε στη φροντίδα του θείου του και μεγάλωσε με τα ξαδέρφια του από την Ορλεάνη.

Ο Μιχάηλ αναγνώρισε αργότερα ότι ο θείος του ήταν κακός διαχειριστής των περιουσιακών στοιχείων του, αλλά υποστήριξε ότι δεν υπήρξε καμία παραβίαση ή προσπάθεια απόκρυψης ζημιών. Θα σχολίαζε επίσης ότι, παρά τους ισχυρισμούς περί του αντιθέτου, η περιβόητη σχέση του θείου του με τη βοηθό του Monique Friesz στα τελευταία του χρόνια, κατά τα οποία θεωρήθηκε ότι είχαν καταναλωθεί ή εκτραπεί σημαντικά περιουσιακά στοιχεία, δεν αντικατόπτριζε τη χειραγώγηση από την πλευρά της. επιθυμία του Comte de Paris για συντροφιά όταν επέλεξε να απομονωθεί από την κοινωνία, τον πολιτισμό και την πολυτέλεια που είχε συνηθίσει στο παρελθόν.

Μετά τον θάνατο της ΑΒΥ Πρίγκιπα Φίλιππου Δούκα του Εδιμβούργου, πρώην ΑΒΥ Πρίγκιπα της Ελλαδας και Δανίας πέρυσι, ο Πρίγκιπας Μιχαήλ είναι το τελευταίο επιζών εγγόνι του Γεωργίου Α΄ της Ελλάδας και ένα από τα 2 τελευταία δισέγγονα του Χριστιανού Θ΄ της Δανίας (το άλλο είναι δικό του δεύτερος ξάδερφος Christian Castenskiold, γιος της πριγκίπισσας Dagmar της Δανίας).

Ο Μιχαήλ σπούδασε πολιτικές επιστήμες στο Παρίσι.

Στη συνέχεια επαναπατρίστηκε στην Ελλάδα για στρατιωτική θητεία υπηρετώντας μια θητεία στο Λιμενικό Σώμα Ελληνικής Ακτοφυλακής, απολυόμενος με τον βαθμό του Υπαστυνόμου.

Κληρονόμησε από τη μητέρα του το μισό του Nouvion-en-Thiérache, κάποτε έδρα των Δούκων του Guise, από τους οποίους οι Bourbon-Orleans κληρονόμησαν την τεράστια περιουσία, που περιελάμβανε ένα μεγάλο πύργο και ένα μικρό πύργο, στην Aisne. Ο Comte de Paris κατείχε το άλλο μισό του Nouvion. Αυτός και ο Michael πούλησαν το μεγάλο πύργο το 1980 στην πόλη Roubaix, που στη συνέχεια έγινε συνεδριακό κέντρο περιβαλλοντικών μελετών, ενώ το petit château πουλήθηκε το 1986 στην τοπική κυβέρνηση του Nouvion.

Έχοντας παρακολουθήσει τη μητέρα του να τηρεί μια οικογενειακή παράδοση πυροδοτώντας αυτό που ονόμασε ένα είδος auto-da-fé στο οποίο έκαιγε τα χαρτιά και τα αναμνηστικά του αείμνηστου πατέρα του μετά την πώληση της βίλας του στη Ρώμη μετά τον πόλεμο, ο Πρίγκιπας Μάικλ μεγάλωσε και έγινε βιογράφος και ιστορικός. Έχει γράψει αρκετές βιογραφίες για μέλη κυρίαρχων δυναστειών, αυτές για συγχρόνους του, που συχνά περιλαμβάνουν αφηγήσεις και ανέκδοτα που αποδίδονται στους βασιλικούς συγγενείς του.

Έχει γράψει επίσης μυθιστορήματα για ιστορικά δικαιώματα, που διακρίνονται για τη σχολαστική λεπτομέρεια.

Στα Αγγλικά:

Sultana (1983, ανατυπώθηκε πολλές φορές)

Louis XIV, η άλλη πλευρά του ήλιου (1984)

Rani, La femme sacrée, μια μυθιστορηματική αλλά καλά τεκμηριωμένη βιογραφία του Rani of Jhansi (Γαλλικά: 1984 · Αγγλικά: 2013)

Ο βασιλικός οίκος της Ελλάδας (1988), εικονογραφημένο άλμπουμ

Ζώντας με φαντάσματα το 1995)

Η αυτοκράτειρα των αποχαιρετιστηρίων: η ιστορία της Σάρλοτ, αυτοκράτειρας του Μεξικού (1998)

Η Λευκή Νύχτα της Αγίας Πετρούπολης (2000), ιστορικό μυθιστόρημα

Τα κοσμήματα των Τσάρων (2006), εικονογραφημένο άλμπουμ

Le Rajah Bourbon (2007)

Φωνές φωτός (2012), εικονογράφηση Μαρίνας Καρέλλα

(9ο κολάζ)

Ο Μιχαήλ παντρεύτηκε τη Μαρίνα Καρέλλα (γενν. 17 Ιουλίου 1940) στις 7 Φεβρουαρίου 1965 στην Αθήνα, κόρη του Θοδωρή Καρέλλα και της Έλλης Χαλικιοπούλου. Η Μαρίνα είναι μια Ελληνίδα καλλιτέχνις και γλύπτρια διεθνούς φήμης, έργα της οποίας έχουν εκτεθεί συχνά σε Αθήνα, Παρίσι και Νέα Υόρκη. Ο γάμος τελέστηκε στο Βασιλικό Παλάτι στην Αθήνα. Αυτός ήταν ένας μη δυναστικός γάμος, ο οποίος έλαβε τη νομικά απαιτούμενη άδεια του βασιλιά Κωνσταντίνου Β' μόνο αφού ο Μιχαήλ παραιτήθηκε από όλα τα δικαιώματα διαδοχής στον ελληνικό θρόνο για τον ίδιο και τους απογόνους του.

Το ζευγάρι έχει δύο κόρες:

Η πριγκίπισσα Αλεξάνδρα της Ελλάδας (γεν. 15 Οκτωβρίου 1968), παντρεύτηκε τον Nicolas Mirzayantz στις 27 Ιουνίου 1998. Έχουν δύο γιους: τον Tigran (16 Αυγούστου 2000) και τον Darius (Απρίλιος 2002).

Η πριγκίπισσα Όλγα της Ελλάδας (γεννημένη στις 17 Νοεμβρίου 1971), παντρεύτηκε το 2008 με τον δεύτερο ξάδερφό της Πρίγκιπα Αιμόνε της Σαβοΐας, 6ο Δούκα της Αόστα, μέλος της πρώην βασιλικής οικογένειας της Ιταλίας. Ο Αϊμονε και η Όλγα είναι γονείς δύο γιων, του Πρίγκιπα Ουμπέρτο ​​(γεν. 7 Μαρτίου 2009) του πρίγκιπα Αμεντέο (γεν. 2011), και μιας κόρης την πριγκίπισσα Ισαβέλλα (γενν. 2012).

(7ο κόλα)

[carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory]

The Strange Saga of Spinosaurus, the Semiaquatic Dinosaurian Superpredator

I’ve been captivated by dinosaurs for as long as I can remember. My parents tell me that I told them that I wanted to be a paleontologist as early as age four. Naturally, then, I had lots and lots of books about dinosaurs when I was a boy growing up during the 1980s. One of the dinosaurs that always fascinated me the most was Spinosaurus aegyptiacus. Found in 1912 in the Bahariya Oasis of the Western Desert of Egypt (could anyplace sound more exotic to a small-town kid from upstate New York?!), Spinosaurus was originally known from a highly incomplete but also very large and extremely distinctive partial skeleton found in a middle Cretaceous-aged (roughly 95-million-year-old) rock layer in the oasis. Among the few skeletal elements known were part of a strangely shaped (for a dinosaur) lower jaw, some crocodile-like teeth, and most strikingly, several back vertebrae that each sported tall spines, some of them measuring nearly six feet. These spines clearly impressed Ernst Stromer von Reichenbach, the German paleontologist who studied the skeleton and gave the animal its name in a 1915 publication. Tragically, however, that original Spinosaurus skeleton—and all of Stromer’s other dinosaur fossils from Egypt—were destroyed during the Second World War, more specifically in a British Royal Air Force bombing of Munich on April 24, 1944. The story of Stromer’s lost dinosaurs found its way into many a children’s book, including several that I read cover-to-cover. As such, the tale took on near-legendary status for me, and, I’m sure, many other young dinosaur enthusiasts around the world. Here was an absolutely extraordinary dinosaur from a faraway land, similar in size to the gargantuan Tyrannosaurus rex, but clearly very different from all other predatory dinosaurs known at the time – and it was represented only by a few teeth and bones that had been blasted into oblivion decades ago and so now existed only as pictures in books.

A scan of my photocopy of plate I of Ernst Stromer’s original 1915 publication on Spinosaurus aegyptiacus, showing some of the teeth and bones preserved in the holotype (= name-bearing) partial skeleton, discovered in 1912 in Egypt’s Bahariya Oasis. Check out the long spines on the back vertebrae at lower left!

Stromer’s conception of Spinosaurus, as depicted in a 1936 publication and on a glass slide of his that colleagues of mine scanned during our visit to the Paläontologisches Museum München in Munich, Germany in 2001. Stromer knew this animal was big, as evidenced by the human skeleton he included for scale. Interestingly, too, he reconstructed Spinosaurus with unusual proportions for a carnivorous dinosaur, such as an abnormally elongate torso and short hind limbs. We’ll come back to those odd proportions a little later…

When I arrived in graduate school at the University of Pennsylvania in 1997, one of the first things I did was make a lengthy list of all the paleontological sites I was interested in exploring, ranked by their potential (in my mind, at least) to produce scientifically significant finds. The Bahariya Oasis and the search for a ‘replacement Spinosaurus’ quickly rose to the top of the list. Amazingly, no one had ever found—or at least officially reported—new dinosaur fossils in the oasis in the more than half-century since Stromer’s beasts were obliterated during that fateful airstrike. A need to keep this post to a reasonable length prevents me from describing the stars that had to align to make this happen, but in January 2000 I found myself in the Bahariya Oasis—one of the places I’d dreamed about going since I was a small child—as part of the first significant ‘dinosaur hunt’ to take place at the site since the early 20th century. It was bittersweet, though, in the sense that we never really found that ‘replacement Spinosaurus’ I’d fantasized about – all we ever discovered of that creature were a few isolated, fragmentary teeth and bones (and, in a very different location, a couple previously unpublished photos of the original skeleton in a Munich archive). We did find and dig up a gigantic new species of long-necked, plant-eating sauropod dinosaur, Paralititan stromeri, a creature that to this day is one of the largest land animals of any kind that’s ever been found, anywhere – but that’s another story for another time.

One of the rare contributions that I personally have made to scientific knowledge of Spinosaurus: a glass slide showing the only known photo of the right dentary (tooth-bearing lower jaw bone) of the original, name-bearing partial skeleton from Egypt. Like all of Stromer’s Egyptian dinosaur material, this specimen (including this bone) was destroyed in a British air raid on Munich during World War II. Several colleagues and I ‘rediscovered’ this photo—which nobody apparently knew existed—in an archive at the Paläontologisches Museum München in 2001. We published it and one other previously unknown photo of the Spinosaurus type specimen in a 2006 paper in the Journal of Paleontology.

A much younger yours truly digging up the incomplete left humerus (upper arm bone) of the gigantic sauropod (long-necked herbivorous dinosaur) Paralititan stromeri in the Bahariya Oasis of Egypt, February 2000. Paralititan is one of the largest dinosaurs ever discovered – a nice ‘consolation prize’ given that we didn’t find much of Spinosaurus during our expeditions to Bahariya. (A cast replica of the complete right humerus of Paralititan is on display in PaleoLab at Carnegie Museum of Natural History.) Credit: Josh Smith.

Back to the matter at hand, meaning Spinosaurus. Fast-forward to 2011. I had the honor of serving as the external thesis examiner for Nizar Ibrahim, a promising doctoral student at University College Dublin in Ireland. I’d known Nizar for years, ever since he reached out to me by email while an undergraduate at the University of Bristol, England, to discuss our mutual interests in African Cretaceous dinosaurs. Nizar’s Ph.D. thesis was on dinosaurs and other middle Cretaceous-aged vertebrates from the celebrated Kem Kem beds of southeastern Morocco, a set of rocks that had yielded a fossil fauna very similar to, though seemingly more diverse than, that of the Bahariya Oasis. Among the many finds that Nizar documented in his colossal thesis were intriguing new remains of Spinosaurus. I went to Dublin to participate in his successful thesis defense, and afterward, he and I hit up some of the city’s finest public houses to celebrate (no surprise for those who know me). Over a pitcher of yummy Irish stout, he told me an exciting story – he and his team had lately discovered not just isolated bones of Spinosaurus in Morocco, but parts of a probable new skeleton. If so, this find would be the first skeleton since Stromer, and moreover would be exceedingly important given how little was known about Spinosaurus, even as recently as the early 2010s. The more parts we paleontologists have of a given fossil animal, the more we can generally learn about it, so the prospect of a new and relatively complete Spinosaurus skeleton—in other words, many bones belonging to a single individual dinosaur—was thrilling to say the least.

Again I’ll skip details for brevity’s sake, but fast-forward once again, to 2014. I was contacted by an editor of Science—one of the foremost scientific journals in the world—to peer-review a paper that had been submitted by (you guessed it!) Nizar and a long list of collaborators describing that new skeleton of Spinosaurus that he’d told me about over beers in Ireland three years before. Nizar and team had revisited the quarry and it had panned out in a big way. From this one, single individual Spinosaurus—again, the first associated skeleton of this dinosaur to have been found in roughly a century—they had bones from the skull, backbone (including a few of those famously long-spined vertebrae!), forelimb, pelvis, and hind limb. More importantly, these ‘new’ bones revealed that Spinosaurus was even more bizarre than anyone imagined! We already knew, from Stromer’s specimen and other, isolated finds made through the years, that the shapes of the skull and back were really weird for a predatory dinosaur. Now, the new skeleton showed that the bones were remarkably dense, the hind legs were oddly short, and the hind feet may have been webbed! All of this led Nizar and colleagues to propose that Spinosaurus may have been semiaquatic; in other words, that its lifestyle was much more comparable to that of a modern-day alligator or crocodile than it was to a more ‘typical’ land-living predatory dinosaur such as T. rex. Other evidence for an affinity to watery habitats had been found in Spinosaurus and closely related dinosaurs (known, perhaps unsurprisingly, as spinosaurids) before, but this was, in my mind, the most convincing case yet made that these animals spent significant amounts of their time at least partly submerged in lakes and rivers. The paper was published in Science a few months later, accompanied by a cover story in National Geographic magazine and a special on the venerable PBS TV series NOVA. Almost exactly one hundred years after it had been named, Spinosaurus had become a celebrity.

Nizar Ibrahim and colleagues’ initial conception of Spinosaurus aegyptiacus in the flesh, released to coincide with the publication of their Science paper in 2014. Two aspects stand out: as Stromer already knew (see his skeletal reconstruction above), the animal is enormous, but it was more oddly proportioned than even he had imagined. Note also the ‘regular-looking’ (for a dinosaur) tail, and read on. Credit: Davide Bonadonna.

Semiaquatic Spinosaurus chowing down on a tasty lungfish in what is now northern Africa some 95 million years ago. Italian paleoartist Davide Bonadonna has produced some of the most beautiful and accurate modern depictions of this extraordinary dinosaur, and I’m grateful to him for letting me reproduce his art here.

But the story didn’t end there. Some prominent paleontologists criticized Nizar and colleagues’ semiaquatic interpretation of Spinosaurus. These opinions weren’t a final judgment. Instead, this is just how science works: we scientists propose ideas, or hypotheses—in this case, that Spinosaurus lived and behaved more like a crocodile than your garden-variety carnivorous dinosaur—and then test these hypotheses by reevaluating the existing evidence and/or bringing new information to light. If a hypothesis repeatedly stands up to testing, then it gradually gets incorporated into the body of knowledge. Other paleontologists presented evidence that they claimed refuted the semiaquatic hypothesis, but Nizar and team eventually countered with new data of their own. In late 2019, another prominent scientific journal—this time it was Nature—came calling, asking me to review a second paper by Nizar et al. on Spinosaurus. What, I thought, could these researchers have to say about this dinosaur that they hadn’t already said before? Well, as it turns out, Nizar and colleagues had kept digging at their Spinosaurus skeleton site, and incredibly, they’d continued to find important new bones belonging to the same specimen. Among these post-2014 finds was the almost complete tail. When I saw what it looked like (via an illustration in their paper), I literally laughed out loud with surprise and delight. Somehow, the shape of the Spinosaurus tail Nizar’s team had discovered—the first even reasonably complete tail of this dinosaur to have ever been unearthed—was simultaneously both unexpected and predictable. It looked really dissimilar from the tails of other predatory dinosaurs, but it was nearly exactly like what one might expect for a dinosaur that used its tail to propel itself through water. In other words, the tall, fin-like tail of Spinosaurus looked more like that of a supersized alligator or newt than that of T. rex.

Nizar and team’s Nature paper on their Spinosaurus tail was published this past April 29. Is it the last word on this dinosaur and its mode of life? Most certainly not, but the evidence is now stronger than ever—in my opinion, very strong—that Spinosaurus spent more time in the water than any other non-avian (= non-bird) dinosaur that we currently know about.

The modern view of Spinosaurus, not as a ‘regular’ predatory dinosaur, but rather as a specialized semiaquatic hunter that spent much of its life in the water. Self-serving side note: the three smaller, spiky-looking fish are Bawitius bartheli, a polypterid (an archaic, still-extant group of thick-scaled ray-finned fishes) that several colleagues and I named in 2012 from fossils found in the Bahariya Oasis. The larger fish at lower left is the giant coelacanth Axelrodichthys (sometimes called Mawsonia) libyca. Credit: Davide Bonadonna.

Two Spinosaurus invite the sawfish Onchopristis numidus to lunch in what’s now northern Africa some 95 million years ago. Look at those fin-like Spinosaurus tails! Credit: Davide Bonadonna/National Geographic.

Nizar (who’s a Research Associate here at Carnegie Museum of Natural History), myself, and our many colleagues and collaborators are continuing to study the mysterious dinosaurs and other fossil vertebrates from the middle and Late Cretaceous of northern Africa. Indeed, Nizar and I have several collaborative papers in the works right now, and I’m also working with an amazing team of paleontologists at Mansoura University on multiple new Egyptian fossil finds. It’s a good bet that African Cretaceous dinosaurs even stranger than Spinosaurus are still out there, waiting to be discovered!

Further reading/watching:

Nothdurft, W. E., with J. B. Smith, M. C. Lamanna, K. J. Lacovara, J. C. Poole, and J. R. Smith. 2002. The Lost Dinosaurs of Egypt. Random House, New York, 256 pp.

Smith, J. B., M. C. Lamanna, H. Mayr, and K. J. Lacovara. 2006. New information regarding the holotype of Spinosaurus aegyptiacus Stromer, 1915. Journal of Paleontology 80:400–406.

Ibrahim, N., P. C. Sereno, C. Dal Sasso, S. Maganuco, M. Fabbri, D. M. Martill, S. Zouhri, N. Myhrvold, and D. A. Iurino. 2014. Semiaquatic adaptations in a giant predatory dinosaur. Science 345:1613–1616.

Bigger Than T. rex (NOVA documentary): https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/video/bigger-than-t-rex/

Henderson, D. M. 2018. A buoyancy, balance and stability challenge to the hypothesis of a semi-aquatic Spinosaurus Stromer, 1915 (Dinosauria: Theropoda). PeerJ 6:e5409.

Ibrahim, N., S. Maganuco, C. Dal Sasso, M. Fabbri, M. Auditore, G. Bindellini, D. M. Martill, S. Zouhri, D. A. Mattarelli, D. M. Unwin, J. Wiemann, D. Bonadonna, A. Amane, J. Jakubczak, U. Joger, G. V. Lauder, and S.E. Pierce. 2020. Tail-propelled aquatic locomotion in a theropod dinosaur. Nature 581:67–70.

Matt Lamanna is Mary R. Dawson Associate Curator and Head of the Section of Vertebrate Paleontology at Carnegie Museum of Natural History. Museum staff, volunteers, and interns are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

[peteywillproceed]

All The Lies

Author’s Note: I’m so glad you guys liked the teaser for this yesterday, I hope the full thing lives up to expectations! As always, I hope you enjoy! x

Summary: Admitting you got cheated on is hard. Being cheated on by the person your best friend set you up with is harder. But telling your best his girlfriend was the other woman? Impossible. What good could even come from it?

Word Count: 3,582

“I cannot believe you!” You yelled, hands in your hair, jaw almost on the floor. “You told him what?”

Harrison just laughed, wiping the dish you’d unceremoniously dropped in his hands after the revelation and putting it back in the rack. “I didn’t know it was a private thing.”

“My breakups are not a matter of public interest,” you told him pointedly “and why did you even feel the need to tell him about it anyway?”

“I dunno, we were just out and you came up and he asked what you’d been up to recently.”

You almost screamed, biting down on your lip before you could snap and say something you’d regret. “You could’ve answered that with ‘she’s good’, there was no need to tell internationally beloved actor Thomas Stanley Holland that my relationship was a complete and utter failure.”

He snorted, draining the sink of washing up liquid and chucked the tea towel into the washing machine. You leant against the counter, staring out of the window whilst you wondered what the most effective way to kill your best friend was and whether this constituted a well meaning kicking-out-of-your-flat. Sighing, you shook your head and blinked back the tears that had pooled in your eyes when you were distracted – you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t think about it, after weeks on the sofa and tonnes of ice cream. It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it.

“Y/n?” Harrison said softly, moving behind you so his chin rested on your shoulder.

You took a deep, shuddery breath, plastering the best fake smile you could muster on your face and spun around to face him. “Yep?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you weren’t ready for people to know yet,” he pursed his lips and rubbed your arm, pulling you into a tight hug when a sob wracked through your body. You clung onto his shirt, feeling the material dampen as you pressed your face against it, trying to remember to breathe, trying to forget the loss of a two year relationship.

“It’s okay,” you finally managed, choking back the sobs, even though it definitely wasn’t. “I just didn’t expect you to be so blunt about it. Or to tell Tom.”

“Well he was going to find out sometime, or were you planning on leaving it till he came over and Justin wasn’t in the flat anymore?”

You laughed between tears, wiping your face with your palms. “That one.”

“And, may I ask, have you been Googling Tom again? Since when did you know his middle name?” Harrison poked your chest playfully and you rolled your eyes, batting his hand away.

“Since he wouldn’t stop teasing me about mine last time he came over, I figured I needed some ammunition.”

“Ahh, you never were that good at revenge, were you?”

“Excuse me?” you gasped, pretending to be offended “what are you implying?”

“Y/n, Tom’s an actor – he’s been teased so much about that name I honestly don’t think he gives two shits.”

You could hardly breathe between laughs, the tears drying up faster than they ever had before, and you wondered if that was what progress had looked like. You’d thought it was progress when you’d gotten out of bed, when you’d stopped eating two tubs of ice cream a day and finally brushed your hair, but the truth was Justin had still been in the back of your mind, always there, always reminding you of that night you so desperately wanted to forget. Except for the first time in months, for that little split second, he hadn’t, and it had just been you and Harrison in your own little bubble.

“Anyway, speaking of the dipshit, he’s home tomorrow,” Harrison pulled his coat off the back of a chair and slid his arms into the sleeves.

You frowned, trying to remember what Tom had told you the last time you’d spoken to him. You’d known both Harrison and Tom since you were young, always that little bit closer to Harrison, and you’d been nervous about Tom coming home because he’d missed so much. You’d dreaded telling him everything that had happened, because he was the one that had set you up with Justin all those years ago. So, when he’d invited you and Harrison out to Morocco a few weeks back you’d stayed behind, too scared to face up to reality. You thought you’d have more time to prepare yourself – he was supposed to be on set for another month. “Oh really? He’s done filming already?”

“Yeah, something about a schedule mixup,” Harrison shrugged and fished his car keys out of his pockets “there’s a welcome home party at Nikki’s tomorrow night, are you coming?”

Oh, that. You remembered the invite, burning a hole in the pocket of your jacket. You’d seen the little white note card lying on the floor last week, but you’d been so caught up in Justin and that stupid picture you’d barely had time to process it.

“Sure, I think it’s in my calendar.”

“I can’t believe you still have a calendar,” Harrison rolled his eyes.

“Hey, some of us like being organised!” You chased after him as he made for the door “Some of us actually make it to appointments!”

“It’s 2020, Y/n,” he smirked, looking over his shoulder as he got the flat door open “It’s time to live a little and take some risks!”

You pushed your tongue against your cheek and tutted. “And what if I don’t want to?”

“Then life is going to make you,” Harrison called, already disappearing into the hallway outside “and I, for one, am going to enjoy watching.”

***

You pulled up to the Holland house later than you meant to.

Mostly because you’d spent half an hour in front of the mirror wondering if it was a better idea to just stay home. But also because you’d tried putting makeup on for the first time in weeks and somehow you just looked worse.

You’d ended up back on the floor, sobbing so hard you thought your chest would cave in and wondering if it was even worth going tonight. You hadn’t seen your best friend in months, and it sucked that you had to ruin it by having a conversation you never wanted in the first place.  By the time Harrison texted you asking when you were gonna get there, it was way past six and you were embarrassingly, stupidly late.  

You shouldn’t have gone.

Yet here you were.

And everything felt so much worse.

“Y/n!” a familiar voice yelled as you hopped out of the car and spun around. Harry was running down the steps and launching himself towards you, pulling you into a tight hug before you’d even locked the car. “Harrison told me, I’m so sorry, Justin’s a dickhead. No wonder you didn’t wanna tell Tom.”

“Yeah, well we didn’t need to ruin two relationships did we?” you laughed, pushing away the pain. You’d practised what you were going to say, run your lines like you were rehearsing a movie. You figured there was no way you were going to make it through this without crying, but you could at least try.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, clearly confused by what you’d just said, but you were interrupted by Harrison flying down the stairs and yanking you into the house. “Finally, thought you’d died or something.”

“Nope just car trouble,” you lied, more than grateful as he dragged you away from a frowning Harry. “Where’s Tom?”

“Right here, darling,” he said, stepping into the hallway and swinging you into the air.

“Jesus Christ, Thomas let me down!” You laughed, bashing his back as he spun you in a circle. Harrison grinned as Tom tipped you upside down, spinning you so violently the black and white floor blurred into one, meaningless grey, and you had to close your eyes or else you would’ve ended up vomiting.

“Six months, SIX MONTHS its been since you graced me with your presence!” Tom turned you back upright and pulled you against his chest, arms wrapping around your waist. “You can let me have this!”

“Yef but canft breafthe,” you mumbled into his shirt.

“Don’t care, you owe me.”

“TOFFAS!”

“Alright alright,” he relented, letting you go. You could feel the heat flooding your cheeks as you smoothed down your hair and fixed your top, rubbing your palms against your jeans. “But you do owe me a proper cuddle.”

“Should’ve stayed in England, mate, there’d have been plenty to go around,” Harrison smirked, but you eyed him wearily, knowing exactly what he was referring to. For a good three weeks after the break up, you were pretty certain Harrison hadn’t left your side.

Tom seemed to pick up on the double meaning, sliding his eyes between you and Harrison in turn. “Am I missing something here?” he asked.

“Depends how you interpreted it,” Harrison said, turning towards the living room. “But you two probably need a catch up. I’ll go find Sam and give him a hand with dinner.”

You glared daggers at his retreating back, mentally cursing him for not even allowing you to take your shoes off. You felt Tom’s hand rest gently on your shoulder, the other tilting your face to face him, and you took a deep breath, knowing that if you didn’t get it over with, you’d never be brave enough again.

“Yeah, he’s right, we probably should,” you sighed, and Tom’s frowned deepened.

“Is everything okay, Y/n?”

You hesitated, gnawing at a loose piece of skin on your thumb. “Not…not really. Can we go sit in your bedroom? I feel awkward doing it here.”

Tom nodded, not taking his eyes off you as you took your shoes off. You could feel him staring at your neck, knowing his brain was working over time to figure out what was going on that was so bad you had to wait to tell him. You knew he’d be thinking the worst, it was just what he did, and usually you never had to make that a reality.

But today…today was different - and you had no idea how he’d take it.

***

“So,” he said, closing the door and pulling you onto the bed “what’s up?”

You pushed your tongue against your cheek and looked everywhere but his face, knowing you’d lose all the confidence you’d built the moment you looked into his eyes. His room was clean, a few pants chucked across the floor and a couple of dust bunnies lurking beneath the bed, but he’d only been a day. He had more than enough time to dirty it up to its usual standard.

“Seriously, Y/n, you’re scaring me now.” Tom’s voice reminded you he was still sitting in front of you, the two little lines creasing his brow even deeper now.

“Sorry, it’s just…I don’t really know how to phrase this.”

Tom smiled, taking your hand in his, and you almost snatched it back in shock. His palms were warm and clammy, just as trusting and open as they’d always been. You had a feeling this might change things. “It’s just me, I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“But’s that’s not the point. It’s just…well, it’s about Maura.”

“Maura? As in, my ex-girlfriend Maura?” Tom drew back slightly, confusion still written across his face. “What about her?”

“Well I- wait, your ex girlfriend?” you stopped mid-sentence, realising what he’d just said, mouth hanging open in shock. Tom gulped, flicking his eyes away from yours, and shuffled backwards on the bed. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, desperately looking for anywhere else to focus on, and this time it was you getting more and more confused. “Since when did that happen?”

“Since before I went away,” he sighed, scratching the side of his head as if that was enough of an explanation. “I figured we weren’t right for each other.”

“But I thought-” You’d been going to say you thought he loved her, thought she was the one for him and that was who he was going to end up with. This all seemed so…so random, so out of the blue you couldn’t even have written it as a surprise twist in a book. You could barely process what he was saying, a thousand thoughts crossing your mind at once. Why hadn’t he told you? What the hell had happened for him to break up with her? But the most important one of all, the one you didn’t really want to let yourself believe, kept flashing in front of your eyes like a neon sign.

If they’d broken up before he went away to film Cherry, then that meant Maura had been single that night.

“Justin cheated on me,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “He cheated on me when you were away and I’ve had no idea how to tell you.”

“He did what?” Tom’s eyebrows shot up so fast they were a blur, and before you could process what he was doing he had his phone in his hand and was scrolling through his phone. “I’m gonna kill the bastard.”

“Wait, no, Tom, stop,” you desperately reached for the phone, clawing it from his grip as he tried to turn away from you.

“That arse hole cheated on you, Y/n, he’s not getting away with it!”

“But you don’t know what happened!” You finally grabbed the phone and yanked it away, panting from the effort. “There’s more to it than that!”

“Like what? What possible excuse could he have for cheating on you, Y/n?”

You huffed, folding your arms across your chest. Tom’s face was red with anger, his hands curled into fists at his sides. “We’ve kind of gotten off topic here.”

“Well you were the one that brought up getting cheated on,” Tom stepped towards you, holding his arms out “I honestly had no idea.”

You collapsed into his reach, remembering how much you’d craved his smell and warmth over the months he’d been gone, and sighed against his chest. “That’s because I didn’t want you to know. I made Harrison promise not to tell anyone.”

“But why? It’s not like I would’ve blamed you for it, it wasn’t your fault.”

“No,” you admitted “but, the thing is…he cheated on me with Maura and-”

“And you thought we were still together,” he finished the sentence for you and the relief that washed through you was like water poured on a wildfire. You’d kept it bottled up for months, sobbing to Harrison and wondering how the hell you were supposed to tell him about it. To finally say it, to finally hear him understand, was worth more than you’d realised. “You didn’t want to hurt me too.”

“Especially not whilst you were filming. I knew how much you loved her and I couldn’t bear the thought of upsetting you when you were thousands of miles away.”

He laughed, the sound hollow and unnerving as he guided you back to the bed and held your fingertips with his. His gaze was fixed on the door, barely acknowledging you as you turned to stare at him in bewilderment. “The irony is, you did still upset me.”

You frowned, your lips parting in confusion and your heart beating wildly in your chest. “What?”

Tom raked a hand over his face and lay back against the bed, his chest heaving a sigh as you fell down beside him. His curls were gone, the stubble of his head prickling your fingers as you reached up out of habit to run your fingers through it, trying not to panic. You’d worked so hard to keep everything to yourself so it wouldn’t mess up his work, that the thought you somehow hadn’t even managed to do that was crippling.

“When I set you up with Justin two years ago, it was for a reason other than just wanting you to get out more,” he said eventually, turning to face you. “I couldn’t admit something to myself and I figured the best way to…stop thinking about it, was to pass the problem on.”

“What problem?” you shook your head, still not really understanding what he was trying to get at. Tom’s hand reached to cup your waist and you gasped at the contact, not used to being this close to him.

“You,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. “You were my problem. Y/n, I’ve been in love with you for years and I couldn’t admit it to myself. I thought if I saw you happy with someone else it would make everything go away, but somehow…somehow it just made it worse.”

You couldn’t breathe, paralysed by Tom’s revelation from your head to your toes. Your eyes were locked with his, filled with desperation and a sadness you’d never seen before, and your heart almost broke at the thought he’d held himself back from this for years.

You’d never given much thought to it really, there’d been the usual teasing in secondary school but once Tom had gotten with Maura it had pretty much stopped. There’d never been any confusion, no wondering about what might have been – to you, he’d always been Tom, the boy who’d wiped a booger on you at six, and copied your chemistry homework for four whole years and never been caught. Sure, you knew exactly what people saw in him, why girls chased him on the streets and oogled him in the gym, and now that you thought about it you’d always liked it when you went swimming.

But he was still just Tom.

“I…I don’t really know what to say,” you said at last, pulling away from him slightly. You saw hurt register in his eyes, and it killed you to be the one that caused it. But what else could you say? You couldn’t tell him you loved him too because it was a lie...

...wasn’t it?

“Anything - anything but that this has scared you away.”

You held back a sob, somehow feeling more conflicted than you had than when you’d come here in the first place. “It hasn’t, I’ll always love you Tom,” you saw hope flare in his eyes “but I don’t think I love you like…like that.”

He nodded, pushing his tongue against his cheek and pulling away from you. Suddenly the air went cold, all the energy disappearing with him, and you wanted to sob at the loss. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, his back blocking you from seeing his face, and you ran a finger across your lips, at a loss for what to say.

You knew today would go badly, but you hadn’t expected it to be because of this. You’d prepared yourself to deal with the fall out of a cheating girlfriend, not a declaration of love, and now you just didn’t know what to do.

Thinking on instinct, you reached out and wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling his shoulders shake as his warm hands embraced yours and he leant back into your body. You glanced at his cheeks, reaching up to wipe away a tear, and sighed into his neck, wondering how you’d gotten here.

“I’m sorry, you probably didn’t expect that,” Tom laughed, the sound full of a profound sadness you’d never heard in him before.

“I didn’t, but I’m glad I know,” you replied, feeling more sure as soon as you’d said the words.

“Really?”

“Of course. It seemed like it was upsetting you not telling me, and if telling me has made it any easier for you than I’m glad I know.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say it’s made things easier.”

You smiled, bending down onto the floor and cupping his cheek. “Maybe not, but things are always better out than in.”

“Isn’t that a drinking joke?”

“It applies here,” you grinned, relief filling you as he cracked a small smile. “Besides, things change.”

Tom’s brow furrowed, big brown eyes turning to look up at you as you rubbed your thumb over his chin. “What?”

Hesitating, you bit your lip and met his gaze, remembering what Harrison had told you yesterday about life and taking risks. This was either a horrendously bad idea or about to change a hell of a lot in the space of five seconds. 

You weren’t exactly known for your rational decisions after all, you barely managed to make it out of your flat alive most days. But the second he’d said it, the second he’d made you question everything you believed, you knew you had to find out what it felt like, even if it was just once and never again.

And so you went for it, without thinking, and pushed your lips against his, feeling the shock wave course through his body and his rigid mouth melting against yours as he finally registered what was happening. For a second, you wanted to pull away, pretend like it never happened, but then Tom reached for your neck and fireworks exploded behind your eyes.

It was like nothing you’d ever felt before, butterflies flapping excitedly in your stomach, your heart swelling and beating faster than ever before. Bolts of lightning raced through your veins, electricity crawling across your skin and setting your nerves on fire as his lips moved slowly against yours. Suddenly, there were no more questions, no more overthinking, just you and Tom, exactly where you were supposed to be.

And, for the first time in weeks, you were stupidly...embarrassingly...happy.

When you finally pulled away, you were both a little breathless, a little starry eyed and overwhelmed. Your lips curved into a smile, a small laugh escaping you as you fell against Tom’s arms and nuzzled your face into his chest.

“Does this mean...” he started, but you pushed your finger against his lips.

“Don’t even question it, Thomas,” you grinned, reaching up to press another kiss to his cheek. “It’s not something that needs to be thought about.”

Before you could think, his lips were back on yours and this time you were in his lap, pulled flush against his chest and he was running his tongue along your bottom lip. 

But before you could deepen the kiss, the door behind you suddenly burst open, Harrison nearly giving you a heart attack as he yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Oh FINALLY! Harry? You owe me twenty quid!”

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