#its a me!!! ashington!!!
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ashingtonkisihita · 8 months ago
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1 day... i woke up early to post this so i could make sure i had it up before the update came out pFFt
Wanna see these drawings early? come follow me on my ko-fi!! https://ko-fi.com/ashingtonkisihita
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artingtonkisihita · 3 months ago
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i decided to hop on the miku trend!! but since ive seen a few texan mikus running around (which all look stunning btw i love all of em), i decided to toss miku into my fictional town of korinata!!! korinata is one of the few places in my silly lil world that has the most witches and warlocks in em! so shes a darling witch and i absolutely love her sm<3 she uses her magic 2 help her sing and put on silly lil shows whilst dancing so that she doesnt get super exhausted after cuz GOD that shit wears u out if u dont got smth to help lastly, like what you see? i have 15% off all my commissions on ko-fi!! https://ko-fi.com/ashingtonkisihita/link/15OFFER come get the deal while it lasts cuz its only going on til sep 3rd!!
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ashingtonkisihita · 9 months ago
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im so fucking surprised that u remembered that yes this is me pFFt
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parkerslatte · 2 months ago
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Beauty
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For @erisweekofficial Day 6: AU
Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader (Regency AU)
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: sexism. mentions of illness.
Summary: Throughout their whole childhood, Y/N and Eris grew up with one another, always seeing one another from across the park that separated their houses. However as time goes on, Eris begins to distance himself and Y/N cannot work out why. After an unfortunate incident at a ball, Eris goes to check on Y/N and some truths come to light.
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
Nineteen Years Ago
Two eight year olds lay in a shadowed part of a garden, their parents involved in boring adult chatter inside the house. The sun was beginning to set and while the children should be getting ready for a bath and bed, they were giggling happily, clothes stained with mun and pond water. 
“You liar!” Little eight year old Y/N exclaimed. 
“I’m not lying!” Eris Vanserra replied, nudging Y/N’s arm. 
“Yes you are!” Y/N said, crossing her arms over her chest. “And for that I’m telling your mother. My mother told me to never lie.”
“But I’m not lying, Y/N,” Eris pleaded. 
Y/N giggled. “But you said you wanted to marry me?”
“I do,” Eris said. “You are my best friend.”
“Do people marry their best friend?” Y/N asked.
Eris shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“If that is how it works then I will marry you,” Y/N said with a wide smile on her face, one of her front teeth missing. “People will be jealous because we will have the most fun at our wedding.”
Eris smiled. “It will be better than anyone elses. My dogs can be a part of it!”
Y/N gasped. “I wish we could get married now and make everyone jealous! It will be so much fun.”
Rain began to fall down upon the pair and Y/N giggled as the cold water hit her face. Eris stood to his feet and looked in the direction of the house. 
“I think our parents forgot about us,” Eris said. 
“Should we go and tell them about our wedding?” Y/N asked. “Or do you want to play out here more?”
Eris smiled and quickly nudged Y/N and ran away, laughing loudly. Y/N giggled and stood from the wet grass and chased after him, rain falling down around her. 
Present Day. 
The mirror before her presented an image she was used to. A plain girl with all hope and wonder gone from her eyes. At twenty seven years, Y/N is what many others would consider a spinster. She was not married, nor did she have any prospects. Being a spinster wasn’t what Y/N originally wanted for herself, she would always dream of her very own romance story from a very young age. A whole stack of paper was buried deep within her wardrobe detailing her dream life and wedding day. Y/N couldn’t bear to look at it any longer. 
“Are you ready to go?” her mother asked, coming into the room. 
Y/N let out a small sigh. “Do I really need to go to this ball? I already know it is going to turn out like any other.”
Her mother fiddled with the ends of her hair already falling out of its updo. “Y/N, we have spoken about this. You need to find a husband soon–”
“Mother, the men at these balls are not any different from the men last season. I know I am not on anyone’s mind in terms of marriage. I am ancient in their eyes,” said Y/N, straightening out her gown. 
“Perhaps this time will be different,” her mother suggested.
“We both know it won’t be,” Y/N said sadly. “You should just marry me off to Lord Ashington. I overheard him talking about me at the last ball.”
“Lord Ashington is ancient,” her mother said. “Y/N, I know I push you to marry but I don’t wish for you to end up in a marriage you are unhappy in. I want you to have a whirlwind romance I had with your father.”
“As much as I wanted that too mother, I think it is now time to look at the reality of my situation,” Y/N said. “I am no longer desirable in any man’s eye as I am not new and fresh to the marriage mart. I must settle for the first man with money to look my way. Lord Ashington is the route to go if I want to secure money to provide for you.”
Y/N fought the sting of tears, she turned her face away from her mother so she wouldn’t see but her attempts were futile. 
“Oh, my baby,” her mother said, wrapping her arms around Y/N. “This isn’t the life I wished for you.”
Y/N continued to cry against her mothers shoulder. If only Y/N could stay home then everything would be better. 
“I have a gift for you,” her mother said as she wiped Y/N’s tears away. “It was meant to be for your birthday but I can give it to you now.”
Her mother disappeared from the room for a minute before returning with a dress draped in white fabric. The moment the dress was unveiled, Y/N gasped at its sheer beauty. 
“I have been putting aside money to get it made for you,” her mother said. “I hope you like it.”
Y/N gently touched the fabric. “I love it.”
“If you wish to wear it tonight, I suppose I will allow it,” her mother said. 
Y/N wrapped her arms around her mother. “Thank you.”
***
By the time Y/N made it to the drinks table, her feet were aching and she was read to sleep, but even that couldn’t keep the smile from her face. The moment she had stepped into the ballroom, she had gathered more attention than she had in years. Y/N was sure she hadn’t danced this much since her first year in society. She forgot how much she enjoyed it. 
“I see you have made a few heads turn tonight,” a voice Y/N never thought she would hear again spoke. 
As she turned to face the source of the voice, Y/N felt a tightness in her chest. “What do you want?”
“A dance,” Eris answered. “With you.”
Y/N fought the urge to scoff. It had been years since she had exchanged words with Eris, and even longer since they had had a full conversation. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed the silky smooth tone of his voice. 
“My dance card is full,” Y/N answered. 
“I can see one space available,” Eris pointed out. “Y/N, please. Just one dance.”
Y/N sighed. “What do you want, Eris?”
“I am only asking for a dance,” Eris answered.
“No. What I meant was, why are you speaking to me? You’re the one who has gone out of your way to avoid me.”
Before Eris had the chance to even open his mouth, a handsome gentleman offered Y/N his hand. “May I have this dance?”
Y/N sent one final look towards Eris before placing her hand in the man’s. “You may.”
As Y/N made her way into the centre of the ballroom, she watched as Eris’s grip on his glass tightened and he looked away. Y/N turned her attention back to the man in front of her and plastered a bright smile on her face. Although for the whole duration of the dance, she couldn’t get the image of Eris out of her mind. 
***
“Y/N, it seems like you haven’t had a moment to yourself all night,” Iris, a woman a few years younger than Y/N, said. “All that dancing with so many suitors must have tired you out?”
Y/N nodded. “I suppose it did. I am quite sure I haven’t danced this much in years.”
“I wonder why,” another woman, Evangeline, said thoughtfully and shared a look with Iris. 
“Tonight you seemed to catch the eye of every single available suitor here,” Iris continued. “You could have left some for the rest of us.”
Y/N chuckled, although she was beginning to feel quite uncomfortable. “I have seen all of you on the dance floor. All of you are no shot of suitors yourself.”
“But none of us have caught the eye of Eris Vanserra,” Evangeline commented. “And you turned him down.”
Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t turn him down–”
“But I overheard you,” Evangeline siad, a wicked smirk appearing on her face. “He was so eager to dance and you turned him down only to run into the arms of the next man who spoke to you.”
“Eris and I have a…complicated past, I didn’t want to bring up past memories that are best left forgotten,” Y/N explained. 
Evangeline took a sip from her drink. “It must have been your dress.”
“My dress?” Y/N asked, confusion evident on her face. 
“I mean, how else would you capture Eris’s attention?” Evangeline said and Iris tried to hide her laugh. “Your hair is clearly not doing you any favours, it has already come away from its hairstyle. And you could have done something about those dark circles under your eyes.”
“What are you doing?” Y/N asked.
“I am just confused as to how a spinster has captured the attention of half of the ton. Your dress might be beautiful from far away but anyone with eyes can see how it is cheaply made,” Evangeline said. “Oh look, there is even a loose thread right here…”
Before Y/N could stop her, Evangeline pulled on the single loose thread and the lace decorating the edge of her bust fell away. Y/N gasped and dropped her drink, causing the class to shatter onto the floor. Everyone around the group looked her way. 
As Evangeline and Iris laughed, all Y/N could do was stand there. The burning from each and every eye on her was insufferable. Y/N held her hand to where the lace was falling away and fled the ballroom, quickly finding a small sitting room not too far away. The instruments from the ballroom were dull and barely audible as Y/N slumped down on the ornate settee and wiped the tears that had begun to fall. 
She wasn’t crying because of the embarrassment caused by Evangeline and Iris. Y/N was crying because of the runed dress. She hadn’t asked what her mother had paid for it and now it was ruined. Her mother rarely ever bought anything for herself for these past few months and now Y/N knew the reason why. Now that reason was ruined. 
The door to the sitting room opened and Y/N hastily stood up. 
“I am sorry for being in here, I can leave–Eris?” Eris stood in the doorway of the room, looking at Y/N with concern in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see if you are alright,” Eris said. “Clearly you are not.”
“It’s nothing,” Y/N said. “Something silly.”
Eris’s eyes softened. “I guarantee it is not silly to garner this reaction from you. I know the girl I grew up with would rarely cry at anything.”
“I suppose I have quite a lot to cry about these days,” Y/N said. “I am no longer the girl you once knew Eris. You would have known that if you cared for me anymore.”
“Of course I care,” Eris said, stepping further into the room. 
Y/N scoffed. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
Slowly, Eris closed the door behind him. Y/N’s eyes widened. 
“What are you doing? If I am seen alone with you, do you know how it will ruin me?” Y/N exclaimed.
“Then I will say that you were quite ill and I found you passed out in the hallway on my way out and found you somewhere to rest your head and then I will swiftly take my leave when I know that you are in safe hands,” Eris said. 
“Why did you follow me, Eris? We haven’t spoken in years,” Y/N said, completely defeated as she sat down on the settee.
“I know,” Eris said, sadness lacing his tone. “And that will be one of the biggest regrets of my life.” 
Y/N watched out of the corner of her eye and Eris walked over to her and sat next to her. The settee was small enough that Y/N could feel the heat of Eris through his jacket. If she had still been Seventeen and so desperately in love, she would have inched closer. Alas, she was no longer Seventeen and she had larger things on her mind than a simple touch that still sent her senses into overdrive. 
The two sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the ballroom muffled. The tears Y/N had shed were now dried up and she was sure her eyes were now bloodshot and pink. She fiddled with the lace in her hands, more of it had come away from the bodice and the more it came away the more her heart sank. 
“You look beautiful tonight,” Eris said quietly. “I haven’t told you that yet.”
“I am sure you mean ‘looked’,” Y/N said. “I don’t feel beautiful right now.”
“You are,” Eris said with such a tenderness in his tone that it caused Y/N’s heart to skip a beat. “You always are.”
Y/N finally met Eris’s gaze and she felt herself melting. His gaze always had the power to do that. “What is bringing this on?”
“Does there need to be a reason?” Eris said. 
“Yes, because you have avoided me for years. You cannot simply talk to me out of nowhere and call me beautiful when the last time I tried to speak to you, you walked away from me and left me alone in the middle of the ballroom,” Y/N said. 
Eris looked at his lap almost shamefully. “I regret that, Y/N. I truly do. I wanted– want– nothing more than to speak with you, dance around ballrooms with you, talk with you until the dead of night.”
“What changed?” Y/N dared to ask. “Everything was going well, Eris. Even my mother thought we would end up engaged before I made my debut.”
Eris sighed. “Do you remember when your father passed away?”
Y/N nodded. She remembered that day vividly. Her mother was distraught and could barely keep herself together. Y/N depended on the maids to help her with her studies and making sure that her mother was okay. When Eris learned of the news, he moved into Y/N’s house for nearly three months. His father never gave his permission but Eris would defy any order his father gave him to help Y/N. 
“Well after he passed, my father noticed your mother taking money from your dowry to pay the maids and staff. He only noticed this change as your mother came to him for help once as your father always did all the finances. Once he noticed the low sum in your dowry, he didn’t want me anywhere near you incase your mother thought of the idea to marry you off to me to claim money from the Vanserra’s,” Eris explained. 
Y/N shuffled away. “The reason you avoided me was all because I was a burden to you.”
“Not at all,” Eris said quickly, inching his hand closer to her. “Please let me finish.”
There was no deceit on his face, he seemed truthful. Slowly, Y/N nodded.
“When he told me to stay away, I told him to stay out of my business, although not as kind as that.”
Y/N couldn't help herself but let out a quiet laugh. A small smile appeared on Eris’s face. 
“Anyway, after that I continued to see you and came by your house almost every single day after that,” Eris said. “You were my best friend, someone who I love dearly. I could not simply stay away from you. It was torture.”
“Then why did you avoid me after that night you came to me?” Y/N said. 
Thinking back to the night of her seventeenth birthday, Y/N always looked back on it with fondness but as time went on it became more and more painful. Did she do something wrong? Was she not what Eris wanted? Was she undesirable?
“You knew how my life could have been ruined if anyone found out what we did, Eris,” Y/N said. “I allowed you to kiss me. I allowed you to take me to bed.”
“I know and I wish I could go back in time and propose to you right there and then,” Eris admitted. “I was ready to as well. My mother gave me her engagement ring.”
Her heart sank to her feet. “What?”
“That night I was going to propose to you, Y/N,” Eris said. “I didn’t care that you hadn’t made your debut yet. I didn’t care that my father was so obsessed with even more money. I didn’t care about any of that because all I could care about was how much I loved you.”
“Then why didn’t you propose?” Y/N asked. 
“The weekend of your birthday, my father was out of town on business and it was only my mother and brothers in the house. All of my brothers were all too young to really care about what I was doing and my mother was glad to be rid of my father for a while and she went to visit an old friend. But that night I brought you into my bed, my father came home early. Since it was just my mother and brothers, we didn’t close the door properly, he saw the both of us,” Eris said, his hand anxiously twitching in his lap. 
Y/N’s eyes widened. “He saw us? Why did you never tell me?”
Eris shrugged. “I couldn’t. He made me promise that if I didn’t propose to you and abandoned my entire friendship with you then he would keep what he saw to himself. If I didn’t then he would tell the ton and you and your mother would have been ruined.”
“I fought of course,” Eris said. “I said that if he released that information, I would marry you on the spot and tell everyone that we had been engaged since before your birthday. I would have needed to make up a date but the plan would have worked. But my father made another threat. If I followed through with that plan then he would cut me off. I would be penniless and kicked out onto the streets. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t drag you down with me.”
“Eris,” Y/N said. “Why did you never tell me any of this?” 
“I was afraid of my father finding out,” Eris said. “I never wanted you at the centre of any negative gossip.”
“We might have been only seventeen, Eris, but I would have happily lived on the streets with you than live the nightmare of trying to find a husband,” Y/N said.
“But I wouldn’t have wanted that life for you, Y/N,” Eris said. “I wanted to be able to provide for you and make sure you have all the luxuries you deserved.”’
Y/N gently placed her hand on top of Eris’s. “All I wanted was you. I didn’t care about wealth or social status, not when I was around you.”
Eris squeezed her hand. “I always knew you would say that. But I could not let that happen. When I imagined my life with you, I always imagined living in a large house in the countryside. I imagined being able to provide for you, treating you to extravagant dresses that I knew you would ruin when you gardened. I imagined children running around that would look exactly like you. They would grow up in a loving home, safe and secure.” 
Eris paused. “I still imagine all of that to this day. There are some days that I ponder the life I would be having right now if my father never saw us that night and I went through with my proposal. I think of the children we might have. I think of the home we would be living in. I think of how much happier I would be with you by my side.”
“You still think about us?” Y/N asked.
Eris nodded. “Constantly. Lately I have avoided going to balls because I know I would see you and my restraint lately is wearing quite thin.”
“Why are you telling me this now?” Y/N asked. “If your father finds out that you are alone with me, won’t he follow through on his promise?”
“I am here alone tonight,” Eris said. “My mother has kept this gossip from spreading all around the ton, but my father is quite ill. Doctors say that he might not make it to the end of the season.”
There was no emotion on Eris’s face as he spoke. She couldn’t decipher how he felt about the matter. 
“And how do you…feel about this news?” Y/N asked carefully.
“Honestly?” Eris asked. Y/N nodded. “Honestly I feel relieved. I know I shouldn’t because he is my father but he has always felt like a stranger to me. Even when I was a child he never took any interest in me and the only time he did was to make sure I was fit to run the household in the future. Is that an awful thing to say?”
Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think so. I remember how your father was, he was never kind nor welcoming.”
Eris sighed. “I am sorry, Y/N. I came in here to comfort you and instead I have turned this whole ordeal about me.”
Y/N offered him a small smile. “Well, it was relevant information.”
Eris chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it was. Now, if you wish to be left alone, I perfectly understand and I shall leave you alone in peace.”
There was one question still swirling around Y/N’s head. One question she had wanted answered for many years. 
“Did you still love me?” Y/N asked. 
Eris looked confused for a moment. There was a long pause before he answered. 
“Of course I do,” Eris said. “Were you even listening to my confession that I still think of the life we would have had together?”
Y/N laughed and nudged Eris. “Of course I was. I wanted to hear you say it.”
“Do you wish to hear it again?” Eris asked. “Because I will happily comply.”
Y/N nodded and Eris stood from his seat and bent down on one knee. “Y/N L/N. I love you.”
“Eris, what are you doing?” Y/N asked. 
“Something I should have done a long time ago,” Eris answered. “I know that we still have a lot to talk about. I know that there are still things to work through. But I love you Y/N and I cannot live without you in my life any longer. Tonight has been torture, watching other men dance with you and make you smile and laugh, I wished I was in their place. But unlike those men, I know how to make you really smile and laugh. I know your deepest fears and greatest ambitions. I know how you like your tea. I know how you got that small scar on your bicep. I know exactly how you like to be kissed.”
Y/N felt a blush creep up her cheeks. 
“I know more about you than those suitors ever will. What I am asking you Y/N L/N, is if you will marry me?”
On the surface, Y/N knew she shouldn’t accept this proposal. For years, Y/N had been left believing that she wasn’t good enough for Eris, that she wasn’t good enough for anyone. But something deep within her only wanted him, she always had ever since she knew what love really was. Even in the times when Eris avoided her, she sometimes thought back to their friendship and stolen kisses. She thought about how much she missed him. 
“You don’t need to accept. I can leave this room and we can pretend like I never proposed,” Eris reassured.
Y/N wasn’t sure what to say but the words that came out of her mouth were not what she was expecting.
“Technically we are already engaged,” Y/N blurted out. 
“What?” Eris said, looking confused.
“You proposed to me when we were eight,” Y/N said. “We were going to have a wedding everyone would be jealous of.”
Eris’s eyes brighten in recognition. “I remember that. I was only a child but I didn’t even fully understand the concept of marriage. But I knew that I always wanted you to be with me.”
Y/N smiled. “I have a stack of paper hidden in my wardrobe detailing every part of the wedding I would have had with you.”
Eris laughed. “Perhaps we can put those plans to use after all.”
Something within Y/N knew that the next words to come out of her mouth were the right words and the words that would change her life for the better. 
“I think we need to rework some of the plans but overall, I think they could work,” Y/N answered.
A small look of uncertainty flashed across Eris’s face. “Are you accepting my proposal, Y/N?”
“Yes I am,” Y/N said. “I will marry you Eris. We still have things to discuss but we can do that another night. Tonight, let us celebrate.”
A long sigh of relief left Eris as the weight of the world seemed to be lifted. “I believe that is a good idea.”
Y/N stood to her feet while Eris remained kneeled before her. Y/N gently touched his chin, tilting his head. He was so beautiful. 
“I don’t have a ring,” he muttered. 
“You don’t need to worry about that now,” Y/N said. “I doubt you thought you would be proposing tonight.”
“No, I didn’t,” Eris replied. 
He slowly stood to his feet and Y/N now tilted her head to look at him. They stood nearly chest to chest and Y/N felt her breathing get heavier. 
“Here,” Eris said, pulling off his silver signet ring. “Wear this until I can get you your engagement ring.”
As Eris slipped it onto her finger, everything suddenly became real. Eris was really her fiance. She was an engaged woman. The man standing before her would soon be her husband. When she stood in front of her mirror earlier that evening, Y/N felt like she was scraping the bottom of the barrel, not she felt as if she were on the top of the world. It was a feeling she could get used to. 
The ring on her finger was slightly loose but it still felt right. Y/N looked up at Eris who was looking down at her with so much love in his eyes. Y/N couldn’t help but lean forward to rest her forehead on his. 
“I love you, Y/N,” Eris whispered, his breath fanning her face. 
Y/N wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, breathing in his familiar scent. It immediately put her at ease. 
“Shall we announce to everyone that we are engaged?” Eris asked. 
“Would we be able to stay here just a moment longer?” Y/N asked. “As much as I would love to wipe the smirks from Evangeline and Iris’s faces, I still haven’t processed everything properly.”
Eris nodded and leaned forward. Y/N was expecting his lips to fall upon her own, when they didn’t she found herself to be quite disappointed. Although his lips were soon pressed against her cheek. 
“We can stay here for as long as you like,” Eris replied. 
Y/N smiled and held out her hand. The music from the ballroom was dull and faint but it was still audible. “Then how about a dance with your future wife.”
Eris smirked and took her hand in his. “I like the sound of that.”
As Eris danced with her in the sitting room, Y/N smiled and laughed genuinely for what felt like the first time in a long time. She let go and had fun. The weight that she had been pulling around with her for years had finally been lifted. 
Despite her and Eris still needing to work things out, she finally relaxed in his arms and allowed herself to feel that childlike glee she had when her and Eris would dance around the day room when they were younger. The steps were messy yet everything was more than perfect. 
“Future husband,” Y/N mused. “I quite like the sound of that.”
When Eris quickly pecked her lips, Y/N was not able to process it until he was pulling away and heading to the door. 
“Let us go so I can tell the world that you are to be my wife,” Eris said impatiently. 
Y/N smiled and allowed him to take her hand in his. When she followed him to the ballroom, everything else became a blur as she was swept up in a dance with Eris. Despite the lace hanging off her dress and the redness around her eyes. She had never felt so beautiful before. Not because of the man spinning her around the ballroom floor but because of the way the man made her feel. He made her feel like herself again. She made her feel whole. 
“Future husband,” Y/N muttered.
“Future wife,” Eris replied as the dance came to an end. 
There was no one else in the room as Eris took a step forward and pulled Y/N into a kiss. Gasps echoed around them but Y/N didn’t care about being proper. She didn’t care that this gossip would spread around the ton. After all, they were already engaged, there wasn’t much that could run either of them now. 
As Eris pulled away he uttered three simple words against her lips.
“You are beautiful.”
For the first time in a long time Y/N truly felt it. 
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ashthecaprisun · 4 months ago
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Doing an intro post bc idk i feel like its useful
Call me Ash, Ashville, Asher, Ashington, you can call me other nicknames but ask first
My pronouns are he/they/star, i’m a demiboy, trans masc and Ace/Aro but experience tertiary attraction for all genders (eg. Aesthetic attraction, non-sexual sensual attraction)
I like: BBC ghosts, Spiderman, Helluva boss, Hazbin hotel, Bluey, Heartstopper, Sherlock, A Kind Of Spark, A Good Girls Guide To Murder, Big Bang Theory, Paw Patrol, Demon Slayer,
I’m Autistic and Dyspraxic, i think i might have ADHD and some kind of chronic pain but not diagnosed.
I collect pins and rocks, i’ve got a couple G3 Monster High Dolls and a few Funko Pops. I have 3 Spiderman action figures and i like to read demon slayer. I have some Spiderpunk comics and he’s my favourite spider man!
I have 2 rabbits called Stanley and Lula!
I like drawing and writing and have OC’s in a world i call mosshampton (with a friend)
Written 15th July 2024 (15/7/24)
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Note
Greetings Sir Ashington, I would like to hereby formally request more content of my favorite creature of them all, Orion. What does the fine gent known as Orion dress as? What is his attire? Does he have neat hair? Does he dawn a more ragged look, or is he a fine gentleman, as his character presents itself as? and how big is it 🤤😳😳😳
One:fuck off only @clearcloudlesssky can call me sir ashington
Two: FUCK FUCK HOW DID I NOT THINK ABOUT WHAT HE DRESSES LIKE. FUCK. yk what fuck it that dude lives in his school uniform
Three:neat-ish. its not messy like my mine but its not exactly like, filled with gel to make him look prim and proper or some shit
Four:go die in a ditch.
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artingtonkisihita · 3 months ago
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how dare u not draw alex sobbing,,, i did wanna tho,,
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so here enjoy a not great doodle of sobbing alex :3
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Crying practise with da gang (except Lare bc I legit forgor abt her) (and Alex because. I don't wanna)
You can play Kenikari here!
@rotkad @sansxfuckyou @7hefear @beetroot-merchant @ashingtonkisihita
@h3xt0r @bree-sae @helloidkwhatimdoing-0 @zecrisketch
I know most of u guys have already seen this in discord but. Don't care. Art taglist be upon ye
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jashlorkeviscom · 2 years ago
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Finding Brutalism
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I looked at this lovely book called Finding Brutalism which is a photographic book about brutalism In Britain and it helped me in finding buildings which I could look at.
I went through this book and noted down any buildings which I would be able to visit as I was going on a trip to London as well as buildings I could research further which were too far out of the way or destroyed.
Brixton Recreation Centre London
50 Queen Anne’s Gate London
Brunswick Centre
Hayward Gallery
Eros House
Alexandra and Ainsworth Estate
Institute of Education London
Minories Car Park
Vanburgh Estate London
Royal College of Physicians
Clissold Park School
River Court London
Thamesmead Area London
Ashington House
Dawsons Heights
Royal Hospital London
Cotton Gardens Estate
York Road Estate
Golden Lane Estate
Maiden Lane Estate
Keeling House
National Sports Centre London
Paddington British Mail Maintenance DEPOT London
Pimlico School (Now Destroyed)
this book also had an interview with architect Kate Macintosh who said some really interesting things about brutalism.
“Brutalism was seeking a direction towards a more egalitarian society”
“It was trying to break down class barriers”
“We werent building for the lower classes, we wanted to build for anyone and everyone”
She talks abour her work on the National Theatre
“One of the things I really love and value about it is that its such a democratic space.” - “I think that was one of the desired themes of Brutalism” - “spaces should feel open and accessible”
“Perhaps it is a testament to the eloquence of brutalism, in expressing the idealism and optimism of the age in which it was born and came to fruition, that makes it so intolerable to neoliberals and so attractive to the younger generation, which finds such optimism in very short supply, as the one percent steal their futures"
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byersbeefstew · 5 years ago
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it isnt till i go literally anywhere outside of my city that i realise that everywhere in the uk looks exactly the same but is somehow worse than my city...
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ashingtonkisihita · 9 months ago
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Gift art for a friend!!
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artingtonkisihita · 2 months ago
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My part of an art trade with @unnamedgenerator !!!
(go check out her part,,, its SO stunning holy lemon fucks)
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she was frfr so fun to drawwww
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becomemortal · 6 years ago
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Bwaynard the Immortal and the Trinity of Darkness
Here is the exclusive Tumblr history expansion you were looking for. *Genius Perspective* Two down, three to go. What I can take away from Cersilias death is more than one lesson. Cersilia foolishly decided to take over land that did not belong to her without thinking about retaliation very much. You see, Cersilia had no ambition of conquering the realm, she only thought of getting whatever she wanted in life. She charmed more people in order to expand her harem and build herself a larger and grander home. But she did not particularly fortify her home or create an army, although she did decide that anyone who entered where she had people under her control would be assaulted and captured, she did not ever consider defenses against an army. On top of that, Cersilia did learn more ways to defend herself than just her charm (unlike Murdoc and his music) but she still allowed Ashington into her chambers where she had nowhere to flee nor any trap other than her seductive magic ready to stop him. In the end her narcissim led her to believe herself untouchable when she definitely was not and she paid for it with her life. Perhaps I have a bit of arrogance in me (or perhaps not) but I know better than to never prepare for any major retaliation against my plans. As for Ashington, he honestly won really because of Cersilias pride more than anything else. So what should I note about him? Dedication. In the end, Ashingtons drive is what made him get this far. Never giving up against anything, even when the odds were stacked against him is what I can find here. Even when the only person who believed the rats could be exterminated from his home town was his father, he still fought with absolute conviction to slay them. Against the dragon, Ashington had already lost some of his group as soon as they had arrived and discovered that the enemy he was up against was not only more intelligent than they thought but had his own backup Ashington still fought with everything. And when Cersilia broke the will of some of his army and left him to seek her out by himself he still gave it his all, against all odds. When there is no way out, never give up. Fight with all your might and you just may come out on top. Giving up is a guaranteed lost, there are a million ways anything can go and always an outcome with you on top. That is Ashingtons lesson. Now then, onto the next two. The Trinity of Darkness are three people (obviously) whose origins are shrouded in mystery. Unlike with the rather obscure but still able to find origins of Cersilia, historians are absolutely stumped at the background of the trinity before their time at the academy. Each of the trinity wore black robes with a hood over their head and a smooth onyx mask with no features on it. It made their faces completely obscured, and so it is unknown what race they even were. But while their exact features remain unknown their heights made it seem like two of the members were likely humans, Kwarts, or elves, and the final was likely dwarven or a halfling. Their voices also point to two of them likely being either female or young, and the last being a male. As for what little we know about their past... The three openly admitted they spent time at the academy which reflects their specializations. You see, each of the trinity was gifted in one of the three creation disciplines. This made the three extremely powerful, and so it is likely they learned these skills at the academy and were most likely gifted students. Unfortunately, while there are several theories of who they may have been based on people who attended the academy before they came to relevance, the sheer number of students at the academy make it impossible to pinpoint who exactly each may have been. Even going by drop outs who left the academy together we are still stumped. Their identities will likely always remain a mystery. As will their relation. You see, the three were so secretive it is unknown if they were friends, siblings, lovers, or even possibly parents and daughter, as the smaller one had a very young and feminine voice that have lead some to speculate they may have been a child. But it remains a mystery. The Trinity emerged together in the dead lands the Kwarts live in, where they made a dungeon and issued a challenge to anyone powerful in the realm. If anyone were to successfully clear their dungeon, they would receive untold power along with weapons and armor. This by itself likely would have lured a few adventurers in the realm, but they made it clear that they were not bluffing by creating three different minions to greet those who wished to enter who were absolute marvels of the three disciplines. The mechanical one was one of the first recorded robots to have the ability of flight, the biological one was indistinguishable from a human, and the magical one was a giant abomination with horns and tentacles. But they also went as far as to have the minions gift any who accepted the dungeons challenge with an item to aid them, be it a suit of thorny biological armor or a scythe with a retractable blade. This proved to many they were not bluffing. Many entered their dungeon, but none came out. It's legend grew over the years as more and more adventurers attempted to conquer the dungeon but none were successful. The fact that no one had even come back out of it made it more famous as well. Many adventurer bands who were famous at that time attempted to defeat the dungeon and were slain, but the only major legend to die in there was a Kwart named Swordbreaker who was famous for clearing dungeons by himself. Eventually it came to the point where people suspected it was nothing but a trap and so the Trinity kidnapped a child from a nearby village, brought her in the dungeon, then back out. The child confirmed indeed the dungeon was able to be cleared but refused to ever speak about what exactly the hazards were as the trinity had made her promise with the consequence of death. This made the dungeon famous again and eventually someone managed to defeat it. Bwaynard the immortal was a legendary hero already, a half-orc who wielded a greataxe in one hand and an enormous shield in the other. He started out an orphan as his parents did not want him, and lived in an orphanage where he fought regularly until they had enough and kicked him out. He lived on the streets until a criminal found him fighting with several adult street urchins for food... and winning. Seeing potential, his new mother used him as the muscle of her schemes. He grew up this way until he had a falling out with his adopted mother and left. A young adult, Bwaynard decided he had no taste for the criminal life and wandered for a while, trying to find a new purpose in life. He eventually stumbled across a the heroes guild, and joined as he wanted to face more combat. Bwaynard started out in little more than rags with a broken spear and went on to single-handedly become one of the most famous heroes alive in just ten years. He was particularly famous for always completing every quest he took alone. Eventually Bwaynard took a break from the heroes guild and began to travel around the continent in search of one thing, challenge. He sought out regions where the most powerful monsters he could face dwelled and slew them without issue. Years and years went by as Bwaynard added more and more feats to his legend, clearing dungeons and toppling warlords all the while never relying on another person. People begin to call him the immortal because of his ability to live through any encounter no matter the odds. But Bwaynard soon grew bored of both wandering and the heroes guild. As Bwaynard was nearly in his seventies (and still relatively youthful because of his orc blood) and had still not taken a single break from seeking out battle, he was thought of as one of the most powerful people alive. But this made him realize that the other people who were contenders for greatest warrior alive still may have the power to give him a challenge, which he hadn't had in years. And so he sought them out. The first person he dueled was a halfling woman with a penchant for magic who finally gave him the thrill he hadn't felt in years. Bwaynard quickly began to look for another warrior named Swordbreaker, who had cleared even more dungeons than he had. Unfortunately Swordbreaker died when he challenged the Trinity of Darknesses dungeon, meaning Bwaynard could never face him. But Bwaynard was not angered, no, he was excited. A dungeon that defeated the fabled Swordbreaker would surely give him a challenge. And so he traveled to the dead lands and entered the dungeon. According to Bwaynards retelling of the tale, his experiences in there went like this: First Bwaynard met with a mimic in treasure chest form. He immediately realized it was actually a monster from its scent, and slew it. Most would walk away here as it wouldn't attack if you saw through its ruse, but Bwaynard wanted thrills. Bwaynard later faced a puzzle, a horde of goblins, and a trap but he got through everything before he finally came to the end of it and met the Trinity of Darkness. He was very shocked as the challenges he had faced were nothing, and so he nearly slew the Trinity out of frustration when they told him he was at the end of the dungeon. If only he had killed them there... The Trinity informed him his next challenge was to face a set of trials in his mind everyone else had fell to. Bwaynard accepted immediately, hoping this would be what he sought. The Trinity had him stand in an arcane circle and close his eyes, where he then found himself up against a horde of enemies that he had slain throughout his life. He barely defeated them all and found the greatest joy he had ever felt as that was the greatest challenge of his life, before he was brought against the next trial. Here he faced a river so vast he could not see the end of it in sight, and he attempted to swim across. After hours of swimming his stamina ran out and he began to drown, before he noticed a shining object at the bottom of the sea. With yhe last of his strength he swam down toward it before he awoke in his final trial. Bwaynard found himself surrounded by flames with no way out and nothing but a wand in his hand. At first, he attempted to run through the flame and find a way out but felt a searing pain too much for even him to endure on contact with the fire, so he pulled away and began to think. Coming to the conclusion his wand was the key to this challenge, he attempted to bend it. It was the first time he had ever used magic in his life but it worked, and he passed the trial without even having to clear a path through it. He awoke back in the arcane circle and the Trinity congratulated him on his success. Bwaynard laughed and thanked them for finally giving him a true challenge like no other and was going to leave before the Trinity offered him one last challenge, one they guaranteed was unlike any he had ever faced before. A duel against the three of them. Bwaynard had realized they had to be powerful to create an entire dungeon and put him through the trials, so he gladly accepted. One used ice magic against him, one used a special crossbow that shot faster than any other one he had ever seen, and the final attempted to overpower him with their genetically enhanced body. In the end, all three of them fell to Bwaynards might. After all three of them lied dead Bwaynards thoughts turned to the reward they had offered for completion of the dungeon, but he shrugged it off and noticed the Trinity's bodies were glowing. He stepped closer to one before he noticed himself glowing as well. His last thoughts were "What the fuck?" before he lost control of his body...
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ladymazzy · 3 years ago
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From the article:
'What makes Gove’s tale powerful is that it contains some truth. What makes it poisonous is that it purposely covers up the whole story. It talks about Notting Hill but ignores Grenfell. It bangs on about “the London media” but never asks why the media doesn’t then look more like ordinary Londoners – 40% of whom are black or brown or from an ethnic minority. (That might just liven up the comment pages of the Times.) On almost any measure, London does better than any other region in the UK, but much of this prosperity is enjoyed by a tiny minority. Factor in the sky-high cost of buying or renting in the capital, and as academic Jack Brown puts it in his recent book The London Problem, the truth is: “Londoners are working harder and longer for less and less reward, compared with the rest of the country.”
Almost as many Londoners live in poverty as would make up the entire population of the north-east. You could clear the city of Manchester of every one of its residents and stuff it with children from London stuck below the poverty line and still need more room.'
Over the past 18 months, I have been visiting a primary school down the road from where I grew up in Edmonton, in the outskirts of north London. It is an area that played a huge part in the light-industrial revolution that swept the UK and the world, but now all those factories have gone and so has the economy – in a manner that the residents of Ashington would recognise. Teachers talk about how many of their kids leave because their parents have no proper housing. One girl aged about 10 spent a year riding with her mum on the top deck of night buses, because they had nowhere else to sleep. And they talk of how their pupils never visit the museums and attractions just half an hour away on the train. A teacher told me, “central London might as well be another planet”. The phrase sounded familiar.
The data research firm CACI provided me with profiles of central Ashington and Edmonton Green. In many ways, they look alike. Household income is, if anything, higher in central Ashington, while private tenants in my old neighbourhood spend almost triple their counterparts in the north-east on rent. Overall, the Londoners, my Londoners, make do with half the disposable income of those in Ashington. The one big difference is that residents of Ashington are older and 98% white, whereas Edmonton has families from Bulgaria, Romania, Turkey, Somalia and south Asia. Whether from the north or the south, economically these people are in the same boat – which makes it vital for the Tories to harp on about their cultural differences. Rich remainers, citizens of nowhere … you know the rest.'
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bestofmuses-blog · 7 years ago
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“Get over here, big boy. Show me what you’re packing.“ [George Squared]
Sexual Sentences // Accepting
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   He held his breath... Unable to move, unable to see, and unable to really fight back against whatever was going to happen. He could feel his throat hitching and with his the dry feeling of something scratching at the back of his throat. 
   Washington, with his senses, enhance from the blindfold, could feel cold fingertips dancing on the jacket he wore as the sound of a sharp object, a blade, could be heard being removed from its sheath. Another hitch of his breath before the blade made contact with his clothing, ripping straight through and catching some of his skin causing a sharp gasp of pain.
     "Oh! I've damaged my prize! Silly me...~"
   Bittersweet words. The sound of clicking boots, the ticking clocks, his own heart beat ringing in his ears--- he could hear it all. With his enemy touching the now exposed skin and wound only made Washington shudder and tremble with how hopeless he had become. He could hear the sharp, bitter laughter of the King as Washington glared through the red fabric as if the other could tell what emotion he was feeling.
   It was until feeling a painful grab at what was in between him did Washington actually let out some sort of sound. A sharp, loud, gasp as he wasn't expecting such a forceful grab. The grab turned into rubbing, playing, teasing, all disgusting feelings that caused Washington to jerk at his restraints.
     "Sit still or I'll have to hurt you again.. and we wouldn't want that now, love...~"
   Love--- from his mouth it just made Washington's stomach twist and turn in agony and disgust. He felt fingers wrap around what little clothing was covering his body being removed. The buttons first, then the zipper, and then the undergarments below that giving a chilling feeling through the lower part of his body. Another bitter toned laugh as those ice cold fingers touched his warm, sensitive flesh.
     "So much more than I imagined~! Yes... this will do, oh, so nice...~"
   Washington trembled again as now hot breath skimmed his very obvious erect and defenseless body. Feet, instinctively, pulled back against the chains again trying to escape but only caused the chains to jingle as he moved. Yet another chuckle, stifled, probably making fun of Washington's fear and instinct to run from what had been happening. However, the breath left from below him, moving toward him, and against his ear.
     "Come...~ Let's have a little fun, shall we...~?"
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hucc · 5 years ago
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Hackney Umpires v Brixton Barbarians
The Gentrification Cup Final
Sunday 23rd June 2019, Millfields
Sorry to be a bit unimaginative but I thought I’d start this match report by talking about cricket.  Specifically Steve Harmison, the Ashington Express, and the 2005 Ashes, the defining cricket experience for anyone born too late for ’81 but before 1990.  And, almost inconceivably now, the 2005 Ashes was live on actual normal telly (note for people born after 1990 ‘normal telly’ means the 4 ‘terrestrial’ free-to-air channels and, grudgingly, channel 5).
Yeah, so Steve Harmison and 2005.  After a decade and more of utter domination by the Aussies the series begun unsurprisingly with them beating us at Lords, despite some signs of resistance. But instead of folding meekly in the second test at Edgbaston, England were fighting hard.  As the day 3 reached its close things were in the balance: Michael ‘Pup’ Clarke, the youthful blond-haired batting machine, was on 30, Warney at the other end on 20. Australia are 106 runs away from victory with three wickets remaining. It was exciting.  It was tense.  But we knew the Australians didn’t give a Castlemaine XXXX for the warm foam of our cricketing hopes.  So while we hoped, it was more the hope that we could keep on hoping for as long as possible until the inevitable calamity of defeat arrived.
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I like Steve Harmison.  He didn’t sound much like a sportsman, he didn’t seem to have the single-minded flinty-eyed certainty that every Australian in the 2000s possessed. He seemed like a nice fella, but with the great skill of being 6’4” and letting go of the ball at 90mph.  The faster and the bouncier the better. And so, late on that 3rd day in Birmingham, with the light of my 2005 reminiscences turning a lush golden hue, the big man comes loping in from the boundary. He gets to the wicket.  He bowls.  It’s a useless full toss. Clarke readies to punch it away.  He flinches.  The stumps are broken. It wasn’t a useless full toss…it was a brilliant slower ball that totally fooled Michael Clarke. Pup is in the doghouse and we jump to our feet in celebration as the wicket brings the day’s play to a triumphant end, and sets up a nail biting finish that we win by just 2 runs on the way to a joyous series victory.  I don’t think I ever saw Steve Harmison bowl a slower ball before or after that. It appeared to be a perfect one-off.  The ultimate surprise, executed perfectly.
Why am I telling you about this?  Good question.  As ever with cricket there’s a fiddly bit involving a sequence of numbers to get us to where we need to be but there is a connection.  So we move forward 14 years to 2019 to find the Brixton Barbarians chasing down a lowly 138 for victory against the Hackney Umpires. 
Gary ‘Yesno’ Aubin,  after a year out probably due to disciplinary matters, is in the midst of an excellent spell of bowling, troubling the batsman with accuracy and surprising one-liners. But despite this and Kieran’s superb 7 overs 1 wicket for 19 runs Brixton are close, needing just 23 runs from 8 overs and they have 6 wickets left.
Dijon Malla the Brixton no5 has been the chief thorn in our side, compiling 40 runs, the highest score on either side on a pitch that was difficult to bat on. 
Gary comes loping in from the boundary.  He gets to the wicket.  He bowls to Malla.  The batsman’s eyes light up he swings.  He might have even had a chance to swing again such was the sheer lack of pace.  Slower ball! Deadly straight.  The ball hits the stumps and it is out. 
A slower ball, particularly a disguised slower ball, is not an easy thing.  I know because that’s my secret weapon delivery.  Just been hit for 6? No problem, run in harder and let it go with maximum arm swirling but as little effort as possible.  Doing that bit is fairly simple, it’s doing that and getting it on the right trajectory that’s the difference between the rankest filth and pure genius.  Gary Aubin take a bow, this was genius. In the blink of an eye 115 for 4 is suddenly 119 for 7 as left arm spin then accounts for 2 in two balls. And then, the same over, another stonewall LBW (happy 50th anniversary) right in front of the stumps, back pad, not playing a shot. So out that the appeal, although spontaneous and hearty, felt something like of a formality…oh, OK then... not out.  I mean it looked out to me is all I’ll say ,but on the other hand I have stood as umpire quite a few times and I can count the number of LBW decisions I’ve given on that self-same finger that gave the decision. 
If you live by the inscrutable shake of the head then sometimes the boot is on the other foot.  Mixed metaphors aside the point here is that Gary’s slower ball has unlocked the door, the collapse is on, 19 runs from 4 overs and just three wickets and that boot that was on the other foot is bearing down on that inscrutably shaking head like a metaphor out of control.
Earlier that day the Hackney Umpires, representing north London, were put in to bat on a warm and cloudy June day against the Brixton Barbarians, an unknown quantity from south of the Thames, in the so-called final of the Gentrification Cup, which I think was something someone said by mistake at our previous match and then we seemed to end up playing it.
First impressions count and my first impression of our team was: there’s only 9 of us.  My first impression of the opposition: why have they all got matching club kit, with squad numbers and their names on? Including a dedicated scorer!  Also with kit, number and name. 
The classic sign of gentrification did not take long to arrive: our skip in the skip, bowled by Denton for a disappointing 18 by one that he had no chance to defend.  Dave F was next. He struggled to time it on the pitch and the bowlers didn’t give him much.  Bowled Denton.  Matt Veal the Bournemouth Bulldozer in, then out, bowled Denton.  Ol changed things up, being bowled by Shaw, for a duck, bowled via glove and then box. Painful.  And so the architrave of our top order was ripped out and consigned to the dustbin of history thus revealing, somewhat prematurely, the startling original features of our middle order.
Dave Fawbert is often ahead of the curve.  A former A&R man he can spot the next trend quicker than even the most zietgeisty millennial.  So when Nostrafawbus turns to me and, with us being about 60-4 all clean bowled, and says: ‘well at least we haven’t had a run out’ it did set a bit of an alarm bell ringing.  That ringing swiftly transformed into the bell of Notre-Dame as the spark of Dave’s speculation took hold in the vaulted ceiling of our innings and Kieran hunched back towards us having been dismissed short of his ground amongst the burning ashes of a sorry collapse.
If Anthony and Dave F are the load-bearing wall of our batting.  The David Dawkins and Manny Hawks would be the party wall. Dawks and Hawks set off on a rebuilding mission, and though Manny played around a straight one, David top scored as the wickets continued to fall reaching 28 before he unerringly picked out the fielder at mid on. 
With 8 down and having run out of players the opposition took pity on us and offered to allow a batsman back in.  Ol’s pride, and other places, were sufficiently restored for him to retake the field.  He avoided a second duck and ended not out with a 20 run last wicket partnership.  In some ways it felt wrong to accept the invitation for a batsman who had been out to go again.  Wrong but helpful.  It could only be hoped that the cricketing gods, those cruel arbiters of fate, had already been satisfied with the run out and would not also single out Ol for some painful retribution at a time of their choosing. 
So 137 all out.  Bit crap but what can you do. Go out and bowl them out was the answer. And bang Ol was on it straight away taking out their opening.  Bang again at the start of his third over.  Only this time it was the sound of his hamstring.  And we were hamstrung without Ol’s hamstring, leaving us deprived of the club’s all-time leading wicket taker and effectively reduced to 6 fielders. Dave F made up for goading the cricket gods by single-handedly covering the entire leg side for long periods. Matt Veal troubled the batsmen but could not break through. Despite wickets by David, Manny and Kieran the Brixton middle order held firm. 
It is partnerships that hold the key in cricket and Brixton’s 4th and 5th wickets added 84 runs between them.  The Barbarians were now at the gates. 
But then as we know, the slower ball, the double wicket maiden, just 4 overs remain, 19 runs still needed the opposition scrabbling around for equipment, panic on. Could this be a famous victory for north London?
Another Harmison anecdote occurs to me now. As brilliant as that slower ball was, in some ways Harmy is much better known for another ball he bowled.  This one at the very start of the 2006 Ashes, the first ball six months on from that triumphant home series. The big man loped in at the Gabba, an expectant hush around the ground, that turned instantly to derision as he bowled what was officially dubbed the worst ball in history fielded by Freddie ‘Pedalo’ Flintoff at second slip setting the tone for a series that started badly and fell away from there.
But wait I need to finish this match report, enough of the Steve Harmison anecdotes. Where had I got to?  Oh yes, 19 runs with 4 overs to get them in.  Gary Aubin lopes in, an expectant hush…OK maybe you’ve guessed what’s coming.  If Ol had been able to bend over at slip then maybe he would have stopped it. I’m not sure it was the worst ball in HUCC history, but it certainly wasn’t the best. The ball scoots through slips and on to third man.  But with just 6 fielders there is no third man.  Matt Veal sprinting from mid on makes a valiant attempt to stop the thing but it trickles gently over the boundary for five wides.  15 runs in total from the over and well it wasn’t to be.  It would be harsh to blame the loss on that over.  Don’t get me wrong I’d like to try but it wouldn’t be right. Brixton played well, they simply bowled and batted better than us, took a couple of excellent catches had the top scoring batsman and the bowler with the best figures.  So let’s just remember the slower ball as the defining one yeah, just don’t get carried away Gary because I can re-edit this to focus more on the 5 wides.   
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HUCC 137-9 29 overs (Extras 30, D Dawkins 28, K Kumaria 26)
BBCC 138-7 34.1 overs (M O’Brien 2/18)
Brixton Barbarians win by 3 wickets.  HUCC man of the match Gary ‘Harmy’ Aubin
Up the Umpires!
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fitnesshealthyoga-blog · 5 years ago
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New Post has been published on https://fitnesshealthyoga.com/scientists-feel-chill-of-crackdown-on-fetal-tissue-research/
Scientists feel chill of crackdown on fetal tissue research
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WASHINGTON — To save babies from brain-damaging birth defects, University of Pittsburgh scientist Carolyn Coyne studies placentas from fetuses that otherwise would be discarded — and she’s worried this kind of research is headed for the chopping block.
The Trump administration is cracking down on fetal tissue research , with new hurdles for government-funded scientists around the country who call the special cells vital for fighting a range of health threats. Already, the administration has shut down one university’s work using fetal tissue to test HIV treatments, and is ending other fetal tissue research at the National Institutes of Health.
“I knew this was something that’s going to trickle down to the rest of us,” said Coyne. She uses the placenta, which people may not think of as fetal tissue but technically is classified as such because the fetus produced it, to study how viruses such as Zika get past that protective barrier early in pregnancy.
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“It seems to me what we’re moving toward is a ban,” she added. If so, when it comes to unraveling what happens in pregnancy and fetal development, “we’re going to stay ignorant to a lot of things.”
Different types of tissue left over from elective abortions have been used in scientific research for decades, and the work has been credited with leading to lifesaving vaccines and other advances. Under orders from President Donald Trump, the Health and Human Services Department abruptly announced on Wednesday the new restrictions on taxpayer-funded research, but not privately funded work.
Aside from the cancellation of an HIV-related project at the University of California, San Francisco, university-led projects that are funded by the NIH — estimated to be fewer than 200 — aren’t affected right away.
But as researchers seek to renew their funding or propose new studies, HHS said it will have to pass an extra layer of review, beyond today’s strict scientific scrutiny. Each project will have a federal ethics board appointed to recommend whether NIH should grant the money.
HHS hasn’t offered details but under the law authorizing the review process, that board must include not just biomedical experts but a theologian, and the nation’s health secretary can overrule its advice.
“I predict over time we will see a slow and steady elimination of federal funding for research that uses fetal tissue, regardless of how necessary it is,” said University of Wisconsin law professor Alta Charo, a nationally recognized bioethics expert.
Necessity is the crux of a fierce debate between abortion foes and scientists about whether there are alternatives to fetal tissue for research.
Zika offers a glimpse at the difficulty. Somehow, the Zika virus can sneak from the mother’s bloodstream across the placenta, which protects and nourishes the fetus, and target the fetus’ brain. It’s something researchers hope to learn to block.
Studying the placentas of small animals or even monkeys isn’t a substitute because they differ from the human organ, said Emory University researcher Mehul Suthar. For example, the specific type of placental cell where Zika can lurk in humans isn’t thought to be present in mouse placentas.
And because the placenta continually changes as the fetus that created it grows, first-trimester tissue may show a very different vulnerability than a placenta that’s expelled during full-term birth, when it’s no longer defined as fetal tissue but as medical waste.
Suthar recently submitted a new grant application to study first- and second-trimester placental tissue, and is worried about its fate under the still uncertain ethics provision.
It “sounds a bit murky as to what the impact could be,” he said. It could be small, “or it could be an outright ban on what we’re doing.”
Anti-abortion groups argue there are alternatives, such as stem cells, growing organ-like clumps of cells in lab dishes, or using tissue taken from newborns as they have heart surgery.
Indeed, NIH is funding a $20 million program to research alternatives to fetal tissue and to prove whether they work as well.
“Taxpayer funding ought to go to promote alternatives that are already being used in the production of treatments, vaccines and medicines, and to expand approaches that do not depend on the destruction of unborn children,” said Mallory Quigley of the Susan B. Anthony List, which works to elect anti-abortion candidates to public office.
But dozens of medical and science organizations have told HHS there is no substitute for fetal tissue in studying certain — not all — health disorders, such as HIV, Zika, Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, spinal cord injury, and a variety of eye diseases.
To Pittsburgh’s Coyne, part of the political debate is a “completely unsubstantiated belief that not allowing research and science is going to prevent or stop abortions, which is not the case.”
Medical research using fetal tissue won’t stop but will move to other countries, said Charo, who advised the Obama administration. The United Kingdom, Australia, Singapore and China are among the countries using fetal tissue to seek breakthroughs.
“Other countries work with this in a regulated fashion and they will continue to outstrip us,” she said. “We have allowed patients’ interests to become collateral damage in the abortion wars.”
— Lauran Neergaard, Malcolm Ritter, and Ricardo Alonso-Zaldivar
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