#maitiner

[topcat77]

Samuel Calman Maitin

[lussterpurge]

What are your headcannons on mairin?? What our favorite menace, what are your thoughts on her??

- 🦊

HI (visibly shaking

ILIKE MAIRIN. I’M NORMAL ABOUT HER. LET’S GO.

In my head Mairin comes from a not very wealthy family, probably around middle/low class. She’s from Geosenge town, and was contacted by Sycamore when she was 12 (a few months before the anime AND her bday) to get a Pokémon. So alongside a Budew nicknamed Seedie (Like Sadie, but with Seed YOUGET THE PUN) her mother gifted her, she went straight to Lumiose where she met the professor and got Chespie.

Although Seedie was with her first, her bond with Chespie is stronger than any of her other Pokémon. The Chespin was doing a bunch of chaos, and after helping the professor stop it, it grew fond of her. So she chose it.

Seedie is a female, which later evolves into Roselia

Chespie is male, and it doesn’t evolve until after canon

And Bebé (which as in canon she catches with Alain) is a female, and it evolved into Floette during canon! It’s a yellow flower Flabebé!

Mairin, as I stated before, is a menace. She’s never afraid to speak her mind even if it means she’ll get in trouble, she’ll ALWAYS stand up for the people she cares about (excuse me he asked for no pickles), is incredibly optimistic and has a habit of laughing in the wrong moments. She’s also super clumsy.

She’s (like) a younger sister to Alain, always tagging along and getting into some sort of trouble. But they’ll always be there when they need each other. She’s 13 during the anime, and 15 in the M8. Her hair is curlier, and she struggles to fit some of it into her hat, which is funny!

She’s not necessarily good at makeup or anything (she couldn’t care less), but she admires pretty girls who do their makeup and she’s always willing to help Alain with her nails. Sometimes, if Alain falls asleep while she does them (which believe it or not happens very often), she’ll sneak in cute drawings on them.

TY FOR THIS IMLIKE HALF ASLEEP if i come up w other stuff ill reblog this for you

[bitter-as-wormwood-13]

sensory issues are bad. sensory issues where the sense is the hair on my head is absolutely horrid. 0/10 do not recommend I cant sleep because I have hair

[fooligandan]

got mistaken for a teenager again, lads. at this point i think thatll just be a forever thing

[felidthing]

its funny i dont feel like a fraud drawing any facial hair on me anymore because i do in fact have a nasty blonde beard that i cant give enough of a fuck about to shave

[coldmori]

i ask because i sometimes see comics post each page as seprate posts

a few more pros/cons:

pages posted seprately:

pros:

more engaging (like seeing episodes to a show release)

adhd appeasal for me (the praise motivativating me to make more and make it better)

unlimited comic size (tumblr maxxes out number of photos available per post as 10 for mobile and 30 for desktop, im rarely on desktop anymore so posting one at a time will greatly expand comic size without need for a part 2)

more consistant content (you will not have to wait large gaps between a part one, a part two, etc. ; itll all just become a sort-of reliable stream of comics)

very slightly easier navigation (you can go to exactly the page you want to go to, and see the exact section you want without needing to scroll through the comics, this is practically useless but IS very slightly more useful)

cons:

maitinence for me (having to link every page to every other page is a lot of maitinence and has high likelyhood of errors, its also gunna be hell if i have a sudden need to change the format)

less exciting (you will not get to read everything right away and have instant gradification)

higher chance of abandoned comics (i might just loose interest in a comic and youll never know the ending ever tbh)

pages posted together:

pros:

fixes all the cons from seprate pages

keeps everything togther (its way easier to catagorize on the masterpost, like a folder that just contains everything)

its just how its been done for like, the enirety of coldmori (tradition)

i dont know any more pros but i also dont know any more cons that arent just what the seprate pages solves

[talomacblog]

¿Quiere conocer un anticipo de su defunción ?

Basta con abrir una ventana que de a una siesta de enero en Corrientes o Asunción, da igual la madre que la hija. Porque esta es una historia de madres y de hijas, ya lo verá.

Asoladas.

Humeantes.

Polvorientas.

Áridas en la llanura húmeda, las calles se agitan en la quietud. Reverberan fulgores ondulados. Jadean como tísicas el demonio de la siesta.

Después está la gente.

Cuerpos humanos sin sombras cruzan callados por las calles. Abrasados por las calderas canallas. Las Diablas (obesas, aceitosas) y sus hieródulos con espadas flamígeras están expulsando pecadores del Paraíso que está negado a los renegados.

¿Adónde los conducen?

A la siesta correntina.

El cielo se sancocha. El tibio celeste está celado. Ya no llegan hasta él las jaculatorias que los fieles, al santiguarse, imprecan. Los penitentes que apenan las calles brillan del barniz del sudor. Mujeres afantasmadas atraviesan el resplandor sin decir una palabra.

Sin decir una palabra. ¿Adónde, hombres y mujeres cargados de ardores caminan los calores?

¿Adónde van?

A la siesta.

A los recovecos tramposos del asentamiento de la Villa de San Juan de Vera de las Siete Corrientes: sus ejidos fueron catastrados (amparados y rubricados por sus Católicas Majestades) con los teodolitos del Adelantado Don Juan Torres de Vera y Aragón. Titulado. Encomendado. No cenado como su colega Juan Solís, éste otro Don Juan bebió y fornicó hasta que su árbol genealógico se cansó de frondar y florar y frutar la parentela mestiza que hoy funda feudos ensoñados en nombre de la corona sajona.

Pero el misterio (flota de grumetes y doñas que parte desde Asunción para españolizar las siete guaraníticas puntas) sigue su liturgia en la catedral del aire escaldado de enero.

Hay palmeras y chivatos que florean el altar de la siesta con sus verdes ondulantes.  Cuando el aire se entibia, los lapachares bajan del cielo y las jacaranderías con luto eclesiástico gotean las veredas de la Costanera. Fieles pero infieles, los caminantes hacen profesión de procesiones tal como está indicado en el culto de la siesta, con sus maitines, sus horas tertias y nonas para responsos y festines.

Desinteresados.

Remotos.

Austeros.

Insensatos: los peregrinos que caminan por las calles no saben que son el séquito de la celebrante, que es la Muerte.

[somewhat-very-insane]

okay it didn't pull up the blocked screen this time so it was maybe maybe a glitch but the site is down for maitinence until tomorrow anyways??? ):

[the-game-warden]

Exy is wandering the fog trying doing some maitinence when he see's someone leaning on the tree's in the forest between the realms..

He approaches looming over them his voice low authoritative and curious. "How interesting.... You appear to be a Jake but your normal role has been stripped from you not a killer or a survivor? Fascinating...." @experimentity

Jake had been leaning on a tree between trials, watching a couple crows hopping around in the grass nearby. He always liked watching them, even before he came to the fog. They had a certain intelligence about them and it came through in the ways they interacted with each other and the environment.

He knew someone was approaching when the crows suddenly flew off into the trees. They never seemed to do that around him, only around others. It made for a pretty reliable indicator that he suddenly wasn’t alone anymore. Before he even heard the voice he turned around to face whoever had joined him.

The man behind him was huge. Not in bulk necessarily, but he loomed at least a foot over him and Jake had to tilt his head up just to meet his eyes. His sheer presence seemed to add to his size as well, making Jake feel much smaller in comparison than he probably actually was.

Not only that, the man had claws growing out from his back. Spider-like claws, the kind he’d seen hundreds if not thousands of times sprouting from the tops of those hooks.

Jake’s eyes went wide at the sight of the claws and he took a step back, his entire body urging him to run. “Who the hell are you?”

[cirrates]

splatoon server maitinence

[silent-daylight-james]

[ Just offering for funsies ^^]

Miss Ada Wong - @ask-dbd-adawong

James says "She's beautiful, but I feel like she would be a bit high maitinence. I've heard stories from Leon." He sighs "Also i had a mystery woman in my life it's not as fun as it sounds."

[topcat77]

Four Figures

Samuel Calman Maitin

[velvetknees]

slonko.

There stand no flaws in only yearning for the most mundane things and experiencing life in its natural totality. I think of you each time I pass by a familiar quaint store and see a blue floral teapot neatly organized in the same corner, looking as though time itself has not yet touched it in spite of all the many years. Then I think of the previous house that had its possession, the kitchen it imprinted, and the many people it served. But it is not the artistry design nor the material used, whether ceramic or porcelain, that reminds me of you, rather it is the earthly longing of how I would just love to have my first taste of chamomile tea during Winter night and we’re huddled in one blanket with our knees delicately touching while the record player spins the vinyl to a Carpenters classic; or we would bring some leisures onto the kitchen, my hands would sink into your hair and start to deposit tiny sprigs of baby’s breath all over that I collected ever since the moment that you confessed you find them tender, the lidded pot on the counter would catch your eye and then you would tell me of its resemblance to your grandmother’s and that love is somehow always inscribed in teapots. Love finds its way back to me and I see it in you, in every little thing we do. You bid me good night and I respond in a language you don’t understand: tu es jolie / Je te verrai demain maitin. 

I look at you and realize—I no longer envy the sun, but in turn, the sun resented my guts as if it were a cosmic form of displeasure, all for assuming its place, that of basking in close proximity to you. 

[pippobunorrotristuff]

ESCRIBO. ESCRIBIRE

En ese resplandeciente amanecer que declama a gritos los maitines de lo absoluto, escribo los aullidos de los versos de mis poemas imposibles, viendo como el día se inclina hacia esa ambigüedad desatendida donde las nebulosas metáforas describen el preciso momento en que mis palabras escuchan la melodía del único tiempo en que los pliegues del alma son exhibidos al sol. Escribiré…

[abbapatter]

Maitines

[ibarbouron-us]

- Santa Francisca Romana -

Viuda y religiosa

1384- 1440.

La paciencia y caridad de santa Francisca>>>

Patrona de los conductores. En la iconografía se la presenta en hábito negro, velo blanco, con una cesta de comida en la mano y acompañada por su ángel custodio.

Nació en Roma el año 1384. Se casó muy joven (1396) con Lorenzo de Ponziani de quien tuvo tres hijos. En sus 40 años de matrimonio dio ejemplo de esposa fiel y devoción a sus responsabilidades domésticas. Soportó muchas pruebas severas, entre ellas la muerte de sus hijos y la confiscación de sus tierras. En la dura época que le tocó vivir repartió sus bienes entre los pobres, atendió a los enfermos y desempeñó una admirable actividad con los necesitados, destacando, sobre todo, por su humildad y paciencia. Instituyó en el 1425 la Congregación de Oblatas de Tor de`Specci, bajo la regla de san Benito. Ella entró Murió el año 1440.

La biografía de Santa Francisca fue escrita por el Padre John Matteotti, su confesor por los últimos 10 años de su vida. Contiene visiones y revelaciones sobre su ángel guardián a quien ella tenía gran devoción y podía ver desde pequeña caminar a su lado y guiarla.

Fue canonizada en 1608. Su cuerpo se mantuvo incorrupto meses después de su muerte.

Francisca y su Compañía Angélica

Las Actas de Canonización de Santa Francisca Romana, año 1606. Cuando pequeña, santa Francisca tuvo la fortuna de ver a su ángel de la guarda, que velaba por ella día y noche. Jamás la dejó un solo instante, y en ocasiones, como favor especial, le permitía ver el esplendor de su figura.

Ella lo describe así: "Era de una belleza increíble, con un cutis más blanco que la nieve y un rubor que superaba el arrebol de las rosas. Sus ojos, siempre abiertos tornados hacia el cielo, el largo cabello ensortijado tenía el color del oro bruñido. Su túnica llegaba al suelo y era de un blanco algo azulado y, otras veces, con destellos rojizos.

Era tal la irradiación luminosa que emanaba de su rostro, que podía leer maitines en plena media noche".

En una ocasión, el escéptico padre de Francisca la requirió el honor de ser presentado a esta criatura "imaginaria". Dicho y hecho. Ella tomó al ángel de la mano, y uniéndola a la de su padre, los presentó, pudiendo el último verlo y así no volver a dudar.

Santa Francisca Romana vivió entre 1384 y 1440. Unos meses después de su muerte, durante la apertura de su tumba en Roma, se descubrió que su hermoso cuerpo había permanecido incorrupto, y que exhalaba, además, un perfume que resultaba conocido a aquellos que habían tratado con ella.

Es obra de las Siervas de los Corazones Traspasados de Jesús y María.