#national all os ours day

[murderousink23]

04/08/2023 is International Romani Day 🌏, Lazarus Saturday 🌏, National All is Ours Day 🇺🇲, National Empanada Day 🥟🇺🇲, National Zoo Lovers Day 🇺🇲, National Catch and Release Day 🎣🇺🇲

[d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n]

Still be here in the morning?

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*

Author's Note: This started off as a smut thing but became a whole story thing so enjoy ;D

It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.

You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.

"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.

"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.

"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"

"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."

"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"

"I'm aware."

"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."

"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."

"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"

Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"

You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."

"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."

"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."

After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.

To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.

He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.

A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.

"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.

"What do you want, Mouse?"

"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."

"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."

"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.

"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.

"Make me."

"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.

"I said, make me, Lantsov."

"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.

Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.

"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.

"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.

"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."

Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.

"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.

Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."

He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.

He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.

He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."

His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.

Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.

Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."

"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.

He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.

Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.

Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.

"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.

Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.

You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.

You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.

Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.

His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.

"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"It's stupid."

"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.

"Why would I be mad?"

"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.

"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"

"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.

You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

You shook your head.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded your head.

"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"

You hesitated.

"Well, we've found our problem."

"You don't love me."

"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.

"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."

"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.

You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"

"Honey, you drive me wild."

You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.

You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.

A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."

You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.

fin.

[sgiandubh]

Y seguimos para bingo...

S the Actor. S the Entrepreneur. S the Lover. S the Father. S the Manwhore. And now, S the Influencer. Yup.

Judging by the seriously beautiful pictures of the Insta story and the short reel he deliberately posted on his wall for maximum traction, it was a rather grand week-end in Nevis. My bet is on a latergram, somewhere between October 10 and October 19 (when we know he was in NYC): but hey, I was never good with timelines, unlike Marple.

What I can safely say, though is this: C was spotted in LHR on October 10 (Loewe Foundation event) and October 17 (Almeida Theatre depressing play premiere). Both falling, obviously, on a Tuesday.

I am just going to leave this here for your consideration:

...knowing that as per the IATA's schedule regulations, we are still working with summer timetables (I have just double-checked with my mother, before the screeching starts).

Other quick observations: he apparently stayed in the Alexander Suite of the Four Seasons (https://www.fourseasons.com/nevis/accommodations/suites/alexander-suite/), judging by the bed headboard - perfect match:

All the other suites have different headboards, you can check by yourselves - quick example with the Chelanii Suite:

So, let's see what's on offer:

Also, smart move: sporting a cap indoors and ta-daa - impossible to look for haircut, in order to try and pinpoint a... ahem... timeline.

No rings on the beach...

... and no rings inside, either:

So, these are props he is playing (us) with, just like the Sybil of Tydavnet.

I left the best for the last, pour la bonne bouche, because I bet the farm y'all were busy checking hammocks and deckchairs and poke bowls (yum yum, heh) and didn't notice this tiny hashtag:

I am off to get prepared for our Defense Attaché cocktail, on our National Army Day. A way more boring affair than the drama-drama I will step into when I'm back home, round 10 local time.

Toodles! :) Y chicas - os quiero mucho. You know who you are.

[heliads]

Hii Lisa my beloved!💕💕 I'm in my Kaz phase again and some stupid ideas have been running through my head constantly. Hoping you could turn it into a wonderful fic, if you like the idea of course.

Kaz x reader with slight Nikolai x reader😌

So, reader is a Grisha with healing abilities (hidden like Alina). After a tragic event, the loss of their family hit hard and they were taken into care by some people that worked at the palace. That's where reader met Nikolai, they became best friends and later enrolled in Army, became lovers all of that. Reader's healing powers were slightly special in the sense that when they used them there was a golden glow all around, making the wrong people believe reader was a sun summoner. After being madly in love for some time, reader got kidnapped for their powers. Tortured for 2 years, reader was saved by our lovely Crows. Reader believed Nikolai never looked for them (false because he did desperately until he ran away and became Sturmhond after believing that reader died)

Reader becomes a Crow, falls in love with Kaz, they have a relationship for 2 years or so and then, one day they fight about something and right at that time, Nikolai makes his way to their bar. Reader and Nikolai have an emotional meeting that leaves Kaz insecure and jealous.

The ending...well I think reader should stay with Kaz buut I'm not opposed to something else👀

Whatever you want my dear Lisa. I hope this makes sense and it's not too insane. I love you and thank you💕

my beloved!!! this request is literally incredible, why are your ideas always exquisite????

masterlist

You don’t like it when Ketterdam is quiet. This jilted city of yours is always loud, always rowdy, and on the few instances in which it isn’t, the whole place seems to hold its breath, just waiting for something bad to happen. Sometimes you hear things you shouldn’t when there’s no background noise to cover it up. Sometimes, worst of all, you dream. 

This dream is not a good one. You only know this after waking. The dream leaves quickly, as all dreams do, slipping back away under cover of night to haunt some other sleeper. You let it pool in your trembling hands, dripping out through your fingers despite your best attempts to stop it from abandoning you. It must have been a tumultuous dream indeed, because for a moment you thought you were back. Back in Ravka. Back with him. 

Ravka is not yours anymore. It was, once upon a time, or so you let yourself believe. You were born in a small village near Adena, home mostly to craftsmen without merit and tradesmen with a fear of leaving their homes. It was a quiet, get-what-you-will existence for the most part, up until the point when you reattached a woman’s severed leg with a wave of your hand and discovered you were a Grisha.

Healers are valuable commodities in a war-torn nation, and you were shipped off to Os Alta before you knew it. It would have been lonely there in a city fiercely divided between Grisha and non-Grisha, were it not for the one friend you made there. A prince, of all people. A second son who wanted nothing more to run. Nikolai Lantsov.

You and Nikolai were just children when you met. It took years of close friendship for you to trust each other enough to fall in love, and even then, it was your best kept secret. Princes do not fall in love with witches. Grisha do not fall in love with mortal men. You kissed him behind locked doors and swore it would be enough for you, even if it wasn’t.

Perhaps it would have been, if Fate had been content to let you rest in mere complacency. There was one singular trait that separated you from the rest of the Corporalnik Healers at the Little Palace, one minor mark of difference. You can heal a patient just as well as anybody else, but for some reason, you glow when you do it. A warm, golden light emits from your palms whenever you use your gifts. His sunbeam, Nikolai used to call you.

Maybe people listened in too closely when they shouldn’t have. Maybe someone connected dots that didn’t exist. Maybe it’s just that in a country like Ravka, a country split by the Shadow Fold, a country in desperate need of Saints, it would be easy to overlook someone’s mortality in the hopes of discovering their own salvation.

That’s your best guess as to what happened to you. What you remember best is the aftermath, not the reason. You were taken from Os Alta in the dead of night, your hands bound in chains so you couldn’t fight or use your gift. You tried to scream, but they had a Squaller, a damned traitor, who stole the breath from your lungs before any sound could be heard.

They tortured you for two months, hoping you’d break and show that you really were the Sun Summoner they’d get paid to sell. It never happened, so they dug harder, cut you more, cared even less. You waited in dark and squalid rooms for someone to rescue you, someone like Nikolai, but no one came. No one Ravkan, at least.

You always wondered if you could put a time cap on the love of a prince. It turns out you can:  four months and six days is all it took for Nikolai Lantsov to give up on you. You spent four months and six days waiting for him before hearing that he’d officially stopped mourning you in public to go to university, and the remainder of those two years in wondering how little he must have cared for you to give up just like that. 

You have no doubt that your captors would have spent far longer than two pathetic years in trying to extract a Sun Saint from your exhausted spirit were it not for your rescuer. A far different savior than you expected, to be sure, far more bloodthirsty than any guardian angel you’ve ever heard about, but he did the job. He always does.

That’s Dirtyhands for you, you suppose, he gets what he wants. And if what he wants is a Healer at the low cost of having to break into a smuggler’s ship while it paused briefly in the Kerch harbor for supplies, so be it. Kaz Brekker was there for money and he was there for a new soldier to serve in his gang. You happened to fit both bills.

At first, you hadn’t known if you were actually safe or in even more danger than before. At least Kaz wasn’t torturing you outright– that was a start, wasn’t it? You didn’t trust him in the slightest at first, nor him with you. It took months of slow, apprehensive acceptance for that to happen.

It took longer for hesitant acquaintanceship to turn into friendship, and for friendship to turn to something more. Something like happiness. Something like the pure contentment of knowing that there is one person out there who would burn the whole world down if you were ever hurt. Nikolai mourned you for an appropriate time, but if the roles were reversed and you were in Ketterdam when you were kidnapped, Kaz would never accept your loss. 

He’s all but told you this himself. There was one instance in your first six months of being in the Barrel when another Grisha hunter decided you would make decent prey. You were only an hour later than expected, but ten men were killed and a pleasure house burnt to the ground by the time Kaz got you back. You never feared getting taken again. You think he’s quite proud of that, even if he’ll never admit it to a living soul. Only the dead tell no tales. 

So the Barrel is your home, so bloody kruge becomes your daily bread and butter. You wouldn’t want any other life. There is always the fear that you would someday lose that confidence, but you swore that time was over. Apparently not, though. 

All that time spent learning to live again, and you still wake up in cold sweats, half sure that you’re back in your birth country and no better off than when you started. Kaz doesn’t deserve that. Your guilty conscience makes you want to beg his forgiveness, so you slip out of your room and up the stairs to his office without a second thought.

You know better than to think that Kaz Brekker would be asleep a few hours past dawn. You’re not entirely sure that he ever sleeps at all. It wouldn’t surprise you if he found a way to optimize his waking hours such that he never needed to close his eyes. Being able to capitalize on the time everyone else spent sleeping would certainly give him a leg up in the race of the Barrel rats. 

Sometimes, when he’s feeling charitable, Kaz lets you heal him just a little bit, not the sort of injury reduction associated with broken bones but that of eliminating exhaustion. You’ve learned how to use your gifts without touching skin. Maybe that’s why he wanted your skills on his side in the first place, just in case. 

The door creaks slightly when you come in. It is well within Kaz’s powers to oil the dratted thing, but you think he likes the sound. It serves as a warning of an intruder if he needs one, a reminder that he is no longer alone. It tells him that you are here now, and he looks up from his seat at his desk. The only sign that these aren’t normal working hours for anyone else is the slight dishevelment of his appearance, dark hair falling haphazardly over his eyes from being frustratedly pushed out of the way one too many times, his clothes rumpled and jacket removed.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks.

“Could you?” You return.

Kaz rolls his eyes. “I don’t need sleep.”

“Of course you do,” you say matter-of-factly, “You’re still human, Kaz, despite your best efforts to turn yourself into a machine.”

“I think it would be less productive to be a machine,” Kaz muses as he considers the stacks of ledgers before him, “think of the rust. Also, I don’t trust any gadget not to break down when you need it most.”

You snort, closing the door behind you and walking to the window behind his desk. “Machines aren’t the only ones breaking down all the time. People do that too.”

Your voice trails off on your last sentence, and Kaz cuts off his stare with his ledgers, turning his chair to face you. When he speaks again, his tone is gentle. It would surprise anyone but you.

“You’ve had another nightmare about Ravka again, haven’t you?”

You deliberate over your words, opting instead to perch on Kaz’s window seat and draw your legs up to your chest. He already knows the answer, anyway. “Yes,” you reply at last.

Kaz nods once. “It’s not real. The dream.”

You laugh bitterly. “I know that. I just hate the way I keep thinking about that place. It makes me feel weak.”

Kaz frowns. “You’re not weak. If you were, I never would have hired you.”

You can’t stop a faint grin from flitting across your face. “So romantic, Kaz.”

“Isn’t it?” He asks.

You glance at him over your shoulder and register genuine bewilderment on your face. To Kaz, you suppose, that is the height of romance after all. A true validation of your worth, a promise that you are enough.

It makes you smile. “You’re right,” you decide, “it is. It’s good to know my position is safe.”

“You’re safe,” Kaz repeats. He stands, walking over to the window. He doesn’t lean against you, but you can feel the exhale of his breath on your shoulder, the ghost of the touch you will never force him to give. “I will make sure of it.”

The two of you stare out the window at the rising sun. A new dawn is coming, bringing with it a new day, new surprises. Some of those surprises, as it turns out, will be far more shocking than you could have ever envisioned.

You’d like to say that you recovered from your nightmare pretty quickly after that, and you did collect your wits, but the jittery feeling stays with you well into the evening. You decide to stop by the Crow Club once dusk sets in, both as a favor to Kaz and for yourself. Once you do your usual perusal of tables, only having to point out one particularly gifted cheater to the guards, you allow yourself to drift over to the bar and order your favorite drink.

You see Jesper briefly in between rounds of Makker’s Wheel and talk idly for a few moments before he drifts off again. The Crow Club, albeit one of the fastest places in Kerch for money to leave your pockets, still feels like home to you. The rowdy hubbub, the dim lights, all of it is yours and has been for some time now. The Barrel is not safe, but this is Kaz’s place, and that means you never feel threatened so long as you’re within its walls.

Maybe that’s why you don’t register the new presence until it’s too late to run. The thought that the young man standing before you could ever be here at all is utterly bewildering. This is the Barrel, this is your mess of dingy canals and hopeless cases. What reason could Nikolai Lantsov possibly have to bring him down these parts?

You blink and he’s standing there staring at you like he’s seen a ghost. All the cockiness drains from his step as his jaw unapologetically drops. It is loud in here, but you swear the volume drops just long enough for you to hear him with perfect accuracy as Nikolai whispers:

“Y/N?”

He says it like a prayer delivered by a dying man, every syllable infused with impossible hope. You don’t respond, but something in your expression must confirm his question anyway. Either that or your face has changed so little in the five years since you saw him last that Nikolai can recognize you anyway, even in the smoke-filled haven of the Crow Club.

He draws forward by impulse, steps quickening the closer he gets to you. In all honesty, you have no idea what he is about to do, nor how you would respond, so you find yourself unquestionably grateful when Kaz emerges out of nowhere to stand in between you and Ravka’s younger prince.

Nikolai pulls up short to avoid running into him. “Who,” Kaz says, voice low but cold as a blade, “are you?”

Nikolai’s gaze darts past Kaz to lock squarely on you. You find yourself answering in his stead. “This is Nikolai.”

You can’t see Kaz’s expression from this angle, but you can imagine the way his eyes must narrow anyway. “Nikolai from Ravka?”

“The very one,” Nikolai replies, a touch of that same bravado in his tone you remembered so well.

Kaz scoffs. “Impossible. How’d you cross the Shadow Fold, then, prince?”

Nikolai gestures to himself, and only now once the initial shock of seeing him is starting to fade away do you realize how absurdly he’s dressed. “I left Ravka when I thought Y/N died. I go by a different name now. Sturmhond.”

You laugh in spite of yourself, a high sound bordering almost on fright. “You became a pirate?”

“Privateer,” he corrects, and judging by the quick answer you’re guessing it’s the same knee-jerk response he gives to everybody.

Kaz shifts slightly, allowing you to see the glare he’s not bothering to hide. “And what are you doing in my city, privateer?”

Nikolai swallows hard. “I heard a rumor about a Healer. A Healer whose hands glowed when she saved someone’s life. I had to know.”

Kaz looks like he wants to physically cut the source of this information out of Nikolai’s throat, but you beat him to it. “Why would you care now? You never tried to find me.”

Nikolai’s eyes flash. “I tried every day until I heard you were dead. I mourned for months.”

“Heard,” Kaz comments, “you never found a body?”

“Obviously not,” Nikolai says, glancing towards you again, “Why didn’t you come back to Ravka, Y/N? Why didn’t you try to find me? I missed you. I loved you. I still do.” He holds out a hand to you. “My ship leaves in one week’s time. Come home with me.”

You find yourself flinching back. Since your first days on the shores of Ketterdam, you’ve long since learned to disguise any sign of weakness, but Kaz knows you well enough to look for signs of trouble in even your slightest of expressions.

The small catch of your breath now tells him all he needs to know regarding Nikolai’s offer. Kaz’s hands curl around his cane, causing the black leather to crease like skin. “Y/N is safe here, Lantosov. She doesn’t need your war-torn country.”

Nikolai’s brow furrows. “Who are you to speak for her?”

“I’m the one who actually saved her instead of giving up,” Kaz says simply, “I’m the one who gave her a home.”

Nikolai’s eyes flit to you again, and you nod. “I loved you, Nikolai, it’s true, but I moved on when you did. Ketterdam is where I belong. My time in Ravka is over.”

You see Kaz straighten up imperceptibly by your side. From the way he’d spoken to Nikolai, you hadn’t thought he harbored a shred of uncertainty regarding where you would want to go, but it appears that his worst fears were assuaged by you asserting that you wanted to stay with him.

Nikolai swallows hard. “I won’t blame you for wanting to come home.” Only myself,  you can sense him mentally adding on. It is a shame that time has not robbed you of the ability to tell what he’s thinking.

“I already am home, Nikolai.” You tell him.

He nods and leaves without another word. You watch him go, and he does not look back. Nikolai has had quite a long time to mourn your absence. Tonight may have set him back a little bit, but you have no doubt that he will recover just as he did before.

“Thank you for staying,” Kaz murmurs when Nikolai disappears from the club.

“Thank you for fighting to keep me here,” you whisper back.

Kaz’s eyes are sharp when they meet yours. “I will always fight for you.”

That, you think, is the difference between him and Nikolai in the end. Nikolai will carry your memory with him wherever he goes, but Kaz would never allow someone to take you from him in the first place. He would go to war to keep you safe. In a way, you think he already has.

You have the perfect view of Fifth Harbor from Kaz’s office window. You wonder if he planned it that way, so he could see both who was entering his life and who was leaving it. The two of you stand and watch Nikolai’s ship leave for Ravka once more. You wondered if it would hurt to see a ticket back to your place of birth evaporate from between your fingers, but it doesn’t. It’s just like you told Nikolai, isn’t it? You are already home. There is no need to leave.

requested by @zaypay, i hope you enjoy!

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @retvenkos, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie, @story-scribbler, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000

[downbadf0rficppl]

still be here in the morning?

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*

Repost

It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.

You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.

"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.

"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.

"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"

"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."

"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"

"I'm aware."

"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."

"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."

"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"

Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"

You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."

"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."

"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."

After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.

To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.

He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.

A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.

"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.

"What do you want, Mouse?"

"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."

"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."

"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.

"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.

"Make me."

"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.

"I said, make me, Lantsov."

"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.

Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.

"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.

"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.

"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."

Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.

"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.

Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."

He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.

He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.

He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."

His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.

Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.

Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."

"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.

He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.

Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.

Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.

"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.

Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.

You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.

You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.

Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.

His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.

"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"It's stupid."

"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.

"Why would I be mad?"

"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.

"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"

"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.

You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

You shook your head.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded your head.

"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"

You hesitated.

"Well, we've found our problem."

"You don't love me."

"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.

"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."

"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.

You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"

"Honey, you drive me wild."

You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.

You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.

A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."

You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.

fin.

buy me a coffee

[capacle]

20 Brazilian TTRPGs I wish also existed in English

Today I offer you:

20 Brazilian TTRPGs I wish also existed in English (because I want the world to know about them)

Buckle up, because you won't BELIEVE the diversity of our indie scene.

[presented in no particular order, and only one per author]

1. Meu Brinquedo Preferido ('My favorite toy'), by Eduardo Caetano

A metaphor about a child's growing process by deconstructing their fears through playful situations.

2. SeanchaS, by Jorge Valpaços and Jefferson Neves

A game about myths, construction of identity and narrative around bonfires, about the time of ancient stories and the present time.

3. Gatunos, by Tiago Junges

A GMless/Solo game in which you play as cat thieves and mercenaries doing the dirty work of the five big factions that run the city.

4. Nômades (Nomads), by Marcelo Collar

A card-based RPG in which you play as beings who have the ability to find and pass through the cracks in the veil that separates the universes.

5. Infaernum, by Caio Romero

Create your own apocalypse while playing the game, and interpret characters who experience the last days of all things.

6. Áureos, Os Dançarinos da Lua ('The Moon Dancers'), by Rey Ooze

A game of fight and freedom where dice play capoeira. You play as an 'Áureo', a former slave who, in a fantastic colonial Brazil, receives the blessings of his Orisha to free his people from slavery.

7. Veridiana, by Alan Silva

You play as creatures that live in a large tree, embarking on a deeply sentimental journey in search of a cure.

8. Karyu Densetsu, by Thiago Rosa and Nina Bichara

A game inspired by action anime and manga, with tactical combat, philosophical conversation, and passionate ideals.

9. Imperia, by Jonny Garcia

A game of politics and intrigue in a medieval court, inspired by Game of Thrones. Create a kingdom collaboratively and assume the role of the most influential people in it.

10. Goddess save the Queen, by Carol Neves and Julio Matos

A pulp adventure game in which you play as secret agents of the British Crown during the interwar period, with their own agenda connected in some way with their home nation.

11. Abismo Infinito ('Infinite Abyss'), by John Bogéa

A narrative game of psychological horror in which the protagonists are astronauts, far away in space, involved in a web of lucid nightmares and manifestations of their own fears.

12. Mojubá, by Lucas Conti and Lucas Sampaio

An Afrofuturistic urban fantasy game inspired by Yoruba and Afro-Brazilian mythologies. Play as a person with fantastic powers who descends from the Orixás, fights evil spirits, and occasionally gets into a rap battle.

13. Chopstick, by Igor Moreno

A game inspired by action movies of oriental martial arts, gang fights and crime, with a twist on Fate Accelerated.

14. Contos do Galeão ('Tales of the Galleon'), by Encho Chagas

Create together the legend of a vessel that would have existed during the Golden Age of Piracy. Players will create the ship, its pirates, as well as its enemies, challenges, and rewards.

15. O Cordel do Reino do Sol Encantado ('The Cordel of the Kingdom of the Enchanted Sun'), by Pedro Borges

A narrative game set in the northeastern 'cangaço' region at the beginning of the 20th century.

16. Através das Trevas ('Through the Darkness'), by Ramon Mineiro

A post-apocalyptic fantasy game inspired by The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Witcher and Diablo.

17. Nihilo, by Andre Osna and Gustavo Rolanski

A world very much like our own—yet bigger, deeper, and stranger. Secret banks are run by Urban Dragons, Infernal mafias terrorize slums, interdimensional portals open in the basements of abandoned pizzerias.

18. Caçada ao Colosso ('Hunt for the Colossus'), by Jairo Borges Filho

Reenact stories such as Siegfried and the dragon Fafnir, the Greek Odyssey or legends centered on the opposition of two primary forces of humanity.

19. Perdidos ('Lost'), by Marcelo Paschoalin

Inspired by Bloodborne and Dark Souls, a world in ruins, fragmented to the point where only memories remain. You'll find relics of yesteryear, monstrous beasts, beings that have forgotten their purpose, and devious paths to tread.

20. Hitodama - A jornada das almas ('The Journey of the Souls'), by Alexsander Araujo

You are Shinigamis: creatures half divinity, half Yokai, who must carry out missions through different worlds, fighting formidable enemies and saving lost souls.

[bunny-lovers]

💜 💍

Hope you & your f/os have a great day & thank you for the ask! 😊 @kuyasvixen @junk-jester @canonfatbisexualenby

🏩 - How do you take care of them when they’re sick? How do they care for you when you’re sick?

"I would take her temperature, give her a glass of water, make her chicken noodle soup, and tell her to get some rest. She would do the same thing to me."

💚 - Tell us about how you met.

"Rebecca and I met when I saved her from the villain. After I beat the villain, I went up to her, asking her if she was okay. She almost couldn’t speak ‘cause of how strong & badass I am. About a week after I saved her, she saw me again walking in the street. She walked up to me & thank me for saving her. I said it’s no problem, I’m just hopping around & kicking the bad guys’ butts! She smiled at me, admiring her of how strong I am. She blushed when I said that. I noticed she was blushing and asked her what she was blushing about. She told me ever since I saved her, she started to have feelings for me. It caught me off guard when she said that, I said in a calm voice saying how very sweet of her, I called her little bunny and said she was cute when her face is red. She asked me if she want to have a coffee date with her and I said yes. After asking me out, she & I gave each other our phone numbers and started to call & text each other. Rebecca & I had our coffee date together and that was our first date. After the coffee date, she and I walked somewhere private, it’s just me & her. Rebecca and I looked into each others’ eyes, having arms around each other, we both lean in and had our first kissed."

💜 - Tell us about who confessed and how.

"Rebecca confessed to me first. She admitted that she had feelings for me."

❤️ - How do you express affection for one another?

"I give her cuddles, hugs, and kisses. I also does cooking and give her small gifts."

💔 - Before you got together, were you ever afraid that they didn’t like you back?

"Nope, not at all."

💗 - When did you realize that you loved them?

"It was when she and I were at the coffee café, just after a week I saved her from the villain. While she was talking to me about herself, I started to fell in love with her. It was so unexpected, it was just so sudden. Her reaction was happy feelings when she fell in love with me when we were at the coffee café.”

💘 - What was your first kiss with them like?

"The first kiss was soft and sweet."

💝 - What was your first date with them like?

"The first date was

🛳 - Have you been on vacation together, and if so, where did you go? If not, where would you like to take them?

"Yes and we went to the Grand Canyon National Park. It was lots of fun!"

🏠 - Do you live together? What’s it like living with them, if you do?

"Yes and it's amazing to live with her. She's such a lovely and caring person."

💤 - Do you guys sleep together? Are they a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper?

"Yes and she's a light sleeper."

🎁 - If you could give them any present at all, what would you gift them and why?

"I would give her a hooded flannel shirt jacket. She loves wearing flannels during the cold season."

🛍 - Shopping time! Tell us what a day at the mall with them is like.

"Lots of fun with her!"

💐 - Tell us about a gift you gave to them. Did they like it?

"Yes, she loved the cat mug that I gave her a few months ago."

👗 - Surprise, you’re picking their outfit! Tell us about how it goes.

"It goes very well when I pick her outfit! She would wear a black blazer rather than a dress."

💍 - Are you engaged or married? If yes, tell us about the proposal/wedding. If not, do you want to get married one day?

"Nope but I do want to get married someday."

[josefavomjaaga]

Brun about the "roi Nicolas" incident

Yet another testimony about what may or may not have happened during Soult’s sojourn in Oporto in spring 1809, taken from Brun de Villeret’s "Cahiers". Brun first relates the horrible details of how Oporto was occupied by Soult’s corps, then continues:

The Marshal's first concern was to organize strong patrols to put an end to the looting, and to issue proclamations to the inhabitants urging them to return to their homes. He had the good fortune to instil confidence in them, and his voice was heard: a local administration was organised. Order was restored within a few days, and the town was soon repopulated. This nation, whose character is fiery, like that of all southern nations, did not take long to become a sort of friend to us. It was beginning to tire of the domination of the English, who exercised an odious monopoly over its main trade, wine. It realised that, as it could receive no protection from its sovereign in Brazil, it was better to yield to France and be protected by her than to suffer English tyranny, and the result was a revolution in people's minds that no one had dared to hope for.

To me this is actually not all that astonishing. In most European countries there was a pro-French party, people who wished for similar modernizations as in France. Heck, even some sovereigns had originally held secret sympathies for the French Revolution. So I would argue that it was not a matter of the Portuguese all of a sudden changing their opinion but of the francophiles among them coming out of hiding and daring to speak up.

The signal was given by the municipality of Braga, which sent the General-in-Chief an address stating that it wished not only to surrender to the Emperor Napoleon, but also to obtain from him "a prince of his blood or of his choice" to govern Portugal. The address ended with an imprudent phrase that caused Marshal Soult a great deal of grief and caused me great embarrassment. It expressed the wish that the emperor's choice should fall on the general-in-chief of his army in Portugal.

So, according to Brun, that’s how it all started: One Portuguese town indeed asking for a new king, and adding that they would not mind if this king happened to be that one Soult guy already in place.

This declaration was widely echoed. Oporto and the main towns in the two northern provinces, Tras-os-Montes and Entre-Douro-et-Minho, were quick to send similar addresses. The animosity we had been shown on our arrival vanished completely, and we were allowed to believe that we were in the midst of an allied nation.

Well, that was quick. - Brun then continues to list the enormous difficulties of Soult’s corps as far as their military situation was concerned, namely the lack of support they received from Ney, who had lost contact with the small garrison Soult had left at Tuy precisely in order to maintain communications with the French armies outside of Portugal, and who, according to Brun "did not move from his quarters". (Which is not fair either because we know that he did move from nunnery to nunnery in order to liberate the female inmates 😋…). Likewise, they never as much as heard from Victor, who was supposed to send general Lapisse’s division to Abrantès in support of Soult’s corps. They were cut off from all communications and entirely on their own. As Brun puts it:

Our situation was absolutely the same as that of Cortez among the Americans.

So Soult sent Loison with a strong detachment east to take Amarante and then look in the direction where Soult suspected Lapisse and Victor to be. (Btw, Saint-Chamans in his memoirs strongly reproaches him for not going back and joining Ney in Galicia instead but… oh, well. Those two.) Brun continues:

At the same time he thought that he could make great use of the addresses I have mentioned above, and he had General Ricard, his chief of staff, write to all the commanders of the cantonments, so that they would propagate the spirit of them and encourage as many communes as possible to sign similar ones. In giving these instructions, he did not think, or did not want to think, about the consequences of the sentence which was personal to him, and this indifference or this intention subsequently gave rise to very unfortunate interpretations, to which I will have occasion to return.

Thanks, Brun, no need for that, we are all quite aware of those interpretations 😁. German Wikipedia still gives "Nicolas" as Soult’s first name. I would also like to expressly contradict Brun at this point. For me, it seems as clear as day that Soult was well aware of the sentence referring to him personally and the related rumours in the army when he compiled the "Circulaire Ricard". After all, an entire paragraph asserts that he had a completely clear conscience in this regard.

The rest is well-known, I believe: the cloak-and-dagger story of Argenton’s secret conspiracy with Wellington, Soult being utterly surprised by the British forces and almost cut-off, before barely managing to get his troops – minus waggons and artillery – over the mountains back into Galicia. So I’ll stop here and continue later with Brun’s story of how he had to report about all this to one infuriated emperor in Vienna, a couple of months later.

[audiofictionuk]

New Fiction Podcasts - 2nd January

Le Soapcast Audio Drama La première sitcom audio, par Binge Audio. Tous les jours, un épisode de 5 minutes. Roger est mort et il a pensé à tout. Faute d'héritier, Roger s'est adapté. Pour emmerder la libraire du Rez de chaussée, qui rêve de racheter tout le petit immeuble, il a conçu un plan. Il a organisé sa succession : elle n'aura jamais rien parce qu'il lègue tout... à ses locataires. Soraya, Jean et Geneviève, Gaspard et Juliette. À eux de faire vivre la petite utopie urbaine et mal gaulée de Roger. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231215-08 RSS: https://feeds.audiomeans.fr/feed/457f406c-adbb-42d2-88ce-d372289d2f1b.xml

Knitting Tales Audio Book A podcast where stories come to life and become a part of our being. A quick introduction about myself: I am an author who has three books to my credit, one of them being in the fiction genre - Beyond Royalty and the other two in the non-fiction sphere - The Hidden Gems and Weaving Emotions. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231216-02 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/ef1bfeb4/podcast/rss

ALMIGHTY Audio Drama ‘Astro Boy’ meets ‘Scooby Doo’ in this cozy action mystery series from the future! Discover a brave new world alongside the daring android detective Elin as he is brought to life on a planet constantly evolving and teeming with secrets. From her humble school days at Albion Science Academy to her battles with the forces of nature and those who seek to control it, there’s a new adventure around every corner. The 23rd century has never looked so bright! …Or so it seems. In truth, the world was forever changed by the effects of climate change; new nations, new technologies, and new dangers. As a human machine, Elin must learn to navigate the complexities of life, all while her own creation remains an enigma. As this prosperous future is built upon the backs of robots like her, he comes to learn what it means to live on this Earth we all call home. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231212-01 RSS: https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2288595.rss

Ad Astra Archive Audio Drama Just before the final chapter of humankind a beacon was launched. It was known as the Ad Astra Archive. Emanating infinitely from this celestial hub would be stories from humanity. Each unique transmission is beamed to provide a spectrum of tales documenting our existence. If you are listening, do not come searching: only these stories remain. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231211-04 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/ee151410/podcast/rss

Jaume I, rei dels valencians Audio Drama Ficció radiofònica de 10 capítols de recreació dramàtica de la vida de Jaume I. Una producció de Ràdio 9 per a l’Any Jaume I, huité centenari del naixement del Rei Conqueridor. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231211-06 RSS: https://www.apuntmedia.es/podcast/jaume-i-rei-dels-valencians-1001719.xml

Murder on Michigan Avenue Audio Book Murder, mayhem, mangled alliterative prose; this story has it all. When an esteemed studio potter based in Chicago is found dead, those who supposedly knew her best must join forces to pick up the pieces. Journey with us as we untangle the web of treachery and deceit woven by her eccentric group of students in this knee-slapping knockoff of a whodunnit style mystery. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231211-07 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/d2c54bf8/podcast/rss

Ishtars Tränen Audio RPG Ein Subversion Actual Play Podcast. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231210-01 RSS: https://feeds.acast.com/public/shows/6575f0927ea33100124b7582

ENKI: Contos do Passado Audio Book [TEMPORADA 1] O famoso audiodrama em versão portuguesa. A Teoria dos Antigos Astronautas pode ser mais do que apenas uma teoria. Junte-se a Enki e todos os principais protagonistas da criação humana em um audiodrama de ficção científica único que revelará a História alternativa da humanidade. Cada episódio contém uma experiência sonora profundamente pesquisada e cuidadosamente produzida, transformada em um incrível podcast narrativo. Escrita, produção, arte, edição e distribuição por Mário Portela. Uma equipe de um só homem para uma comunidade inteira! https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231210-02 RSS: https://feeds.transistor.fm/enki-contos-do-passado

Moonkarta Audio Drama Moonkarta is an epic family tale of good vs evil, courage and friendship, written and produced by Terry Mynott and Col Howarth. The world is changing. Dark forces are circling, threatening to upset the balance of life and light. Shady characters are turning up on Moonkarta's shores and warning its people of change and revenge. When evil forces arrive off the ancient shores of Moonkarta, the balance of everything is threatened. Can Splott and his friends protect the Tree of All Seeds, the magical Forbidden Forest with its precious stone circles, and more importantly, each other? Join them on an epic tale that takes our gang on a voyage across seas and deserts, and to ancient lands, where astronomers watch the skies and where magic and legends rule. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231207-03 RSS: https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2284990.rss

The Phosphene Catalogue Audio Drama An urban fantasy podcast of tape recordings by the curator of a secretive London-based art auction house. The Phosphene Catalogue is a 1970s mail-order catalogue, specialising in those items that cannot be sold at other auction houses: Paintings of lost origin, statues that are too grotesque for public display, and books better left unread... https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231205-02 RSS: https://www.spreaker.com/show/6029902/episodes/feed

Macaw, an original audio drama Audio Drama Macaw. An original audio drama from Jason O. Silva and Drew Rausch. Starring Drew Rausch, Lance Reddick, Jonathan Silverman, Danielle Savre, and Jennifer Finnigan. A stick-in-the-mud cruise ship guest would be happier continuing the monotonous 9-5 he cherishes. Instead, Ron Ahmanson ends up in a revelatory existential crisis kicked off by the discovery of an unlikely superpower - he always rolls “snake eyes” at the craps table. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231207-04 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/ee4e75e8/podcast/rss

Welcome to Sunderland Audio RPG Welcome to Sunderland, a town of 10,000 where everything is weird, but no one seems to notice. Follow our adventurers in this Dungeons and Dragons-like adventure set in modern setting involving UFOs, aliens, cryptids, and all manner of paranormal strangeness. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231214-03 RSS: https://audioboom.com/channels/5121615.rss

http://envenenados.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/envenenados_10.png

Envenenados Audio Drama O sequestro do popstar Johnny Bob Gillian, no caminho para o seu megashow em São Paulo, choca o mundo. E pior que no mesmo dia, Hércules, o chow-chow do Delegado Castello Branco é envenenado e morto. O Delegado, que é o Superintendente da PF de São Paulo, é colocado como responsável pela investigação do sequestro. O mundo inteiro está preocupado com o cantor, mas o Delegado só quer saber de achar quem foi que matou seu cachorro. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231130-04 RSS: https://envenenados.com/feed/podcast/envenenados/

Night Flights Audio Drama Wanneer Alexi's geliefde niet meer wakker wordt, jaagt ze letterlijk haar dromen na. Nacht na nacht onderneemt ze een zoektocht naar hem in de droomwereld. Laat je meevoeren op deze psychologische queeste langs een parcours van oude herinneringen en wilde fantasieën waarbij de waarheid tijdens elke nachtvlucht meer onthuld wordt. Night Flights is een productie van VRT MAX en Minds Meet, gecreëerd door Johanson en werd gemaakt met de steun van het Vlaams Audiovisueel Fonds en De Auteurs. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231229-01 RSS: https://podcasts.vrt.be/v1/program-5f52010e-010a-461c-8244-6fb5e3cb817b

Robin Hood: Rising to Honor Audio Drama Set in England during the reign of King Richard the Lionheart, Robin Hood: Honor Among Thieves follow the noble yeoman as he works to thwart the evil Sheriff of Nottingham and the feckless King John, who rules England in his brother Richard's absence. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231228-03 RSS: https://feeds.transistor.fm/robin-hood-honor-among-thieves

[back-and-totheleft]

Trump, Putin and a Sydney ‘love-child’ 

Oliver Stone is an American film and documentary director, producer and screenwriter. His work includes Born on the Fourth of July, Platoon, JFK and Any Given Sunday. I spoke with him on Thursday.

Fitz: Mr Stone, I’m not going to waste too much of your time by burbling compliments. Let me just record my deepest admiration for almost your entire body of work.

OS: Thank you, Peter.

Fitz: In your long and storied career, have you had much to do with Australia or Australians?

OS: I’ve been there, I don’t know, a dozen times, often to open my films. Before that, as a soldier in the Vietnam War, I would go to Sydney on R&Rs, which were quite exciting.

Fitz: In that case, you must know Kings Cross and our once-famous Bourbon & Beefsteak bar?

OS: [Pause.] Yes. I had a whole story at that bar with a charming hostess later claiming she was having my child. I sent some support. She never really followed up, and I assumed it wasn’t true. Thirty years went by, and one fine day in Sydney, it was quite some shock for me to answer the door to my hotel and see an attractive, young, tall woman saying, “Hello, I’m your daughter.” That turned into some few days, naturally, trying to get to know this sincere young woman who’d lost touch with her mother. Eventually, we sorted it out with a DNA test, and she was not my daughter.

Fitz: Moving on! Having watched all 12 episodes of your documentary Untold American History, I was absorbed by your theme that what we think is actually happening in the world isn’t what’s really happening – a theme that runs through all your work. Is it fair to say that it was specifically your experience in the Vietnam War that made you see the world entirely differently?

OS: The Vietnam War was certainly a strong influence. The world seemed to be full of lies, and going into Vietnam – serving and seeing the way we were lied to – was formative. They tell you that this is the truth and it’s not. So my military experience pretty much started to repeat itself. I would get into a subject matter, such as a JFK film, and the deeper I went, the more it became apparent that there was a lot of lying going on. So yeah, I had a deep suspicion, a deep distrust of the official narrative. We all should know by now that governments often lie to cover their arse.

Fitz: I loved your film on JFK and your documentary on his assassination asserting it wasn’t Lee Harvey Oswald who shot him. But given your experience with Australia, I’m hoping you won’t mind if I put this next question in Australian vernacular?

OS: Go on.

Fitz: So who the f--- did kill JFK?

OS: [Pause.] I don’t know, but you can start with the CIA and its great interest in Kennedy in the Cuban operations, and how Kennedy – by not going through with the desire of the warrior class to attack Cuba in 1962, after the Bay of Pigs debacle – really made serious enemies. There were people who really thought he was a traitor. We kept hearing the word “traitor” used by certain of these people, some of whom worked with the CIA; in fact, there are several suspects inside that agency who we’d like to know more about.

We can start at the top with Allen Dulles, the CIA director who was fired by Kennedy. And there are other suspects from the CIA, but it’s certainly not the whole organisation. No, it’s always about some key men who operated on their own terms because they had been given so much leeway by president Eisenhower over the previous eight years. They had operated “off the shelf” – that was part of their charter. In 1947, under the National Security Act, they were given that vague right to do so on a covert basis as the president saw fit. That part of their charter was a huge mistake. Hundreds of covert operations have followed.

Fitz: Through your whole career, you’ve taken turns that nobody saw coming, with one of your most recent being your advocacy of nuclear power in your documentary Nuclear Now. I would have positioned you as a strong liberal, but the position you take in this documentary is we need to go back to nuclear which, at least here in Australia, aligns with some notably shrill conservative voices.

OS: Nuclear energy was one of the great discoveries of the last century, actually the late 19th century, and it was developed. Of course, it was given a stimulus by WWII and the chase for the atomic bomb, but people have not understood and they haven’t distinguished between a bomb and the uses of nuclear energy for peaceful purposes. To make nuclear energy, you only need approximately 2 per cent enriched uranium, as opposed to approximately 95 per cent enriched for a bomb; there’s a huge difference in making and producing that kind of energy. So nuclear energy is very usable, it’s been proven safe for many usages over the years, and we should be employing more and more of it in the mix with hydro and renewable energy to reduce carbon in the atmosphere.

Fitz: We both hope you live for another 30 years and can keep working for 27 of them. But is it fair to say you’d rather live, surely, next to a wind farm than even a small nuclear facility in your backyard?

OS: I’d have no fear. Because there’s going to be a lot of new small SMRs – small modular reactors – built for many purposes, and with updated safety measures. It’s the next step, especially for the Americans who are developing that form of it. The Russians and Chinese are way ahead of us in nuclear development. They’ve been doing it consistently, whereas we stopped building in the 1970s after the Three Mile Island supposed disaster. No one died, and no serious radiation was released. This was a shame because it was so misunderstood and hyped as a disaster. America can’t build a nuclear reactor any more on that scale as we did from the 1950s to the ’70s. We gave up, but now we’ve started building again to some degree with scientists and researchers, with more than 50 different companies pursuing original research, including small divisions at Westinghouse and General Electric. But these are smaller reactors. Meanwhile, the world, especially the less developed regions, are going to need a lot of nuclear energy, a lot. We’re going to need not just a little, we need a lot.

Fitz: Another surprising turn that you took, at least for me, were your interviews with Vladimir Putin, in The Putin Interviews. I take your point that he’s not just a cartoon character dictator, but a man of flesh and blood beset by forces that are around him, navigating the best he can. Nevertheless, are you shocked, as I’m shocked, by the brutality in the invasion of Ukraine, with Putin at the base of it?

OS: I’m sorry, there has been a great deal of awful new propaganda about Russia ever since the turn of this century. It’s coming from a neoconservative Washington, which is seeking to destroy the so-called Russian Empire and use it as a rich base of natural resources to be exploited by the West. We’ve made Putin into the major villain of our time because he’s invaded Ukraine, whereas the United States – with NATO – illegally invaded Iraq, Afghanistan and Syria with impunity. This is a war that’s been very misunderstood, especially the stakes. If you remember correctly, the United States staged a coup in Ukraine in 2014, which exiled the elected president and brought in a vehement and strongly anti-Russian government. They have a long history in Eastern Europe of fighting Russia. Donbas, which is the eastern, Russian-minority part of Ukraine, never joined this new government, nor did Crimea, and they were identified as “terrorists” by the government. The Russians, however, saw them as “separatists” who wanted no part of this unelected government.

While pretending to follow a peace process in Minsk I and Minsk II, the US and European Union betrayed Russia, significantly building up the Ukrainian army from 2016 on. One hundred thousand of these troops were poised to retake Donbas in February 2022. At the same time, the Ukrainian government was making quite a bit of noise about getting nuclear weapons into Ukraine. This was a huge issue for the Russians because, as you may remember, Gorbachev, Reagan and Bush negotiated in the 1980s and ’90s for a new, peaceful Europe. East Germany was reunited with West Germany on the basis that NATO would not move beyond Germany one inch to the east. That vow was broken repeatedly by the United States. NATO, with our blessing, added 13 countries to its treaty, and grew into a monster on the borders of Russia in a major movement to supposedly “contain” Russia.

There’s no point going into the history of this enormous violation to Russian national security, but it would be similar to Mexico or Canada suddenly declaring they have put a hostile army on the Mexican or Canadian border of the United States, and were, with nuclear weapons, minutes from all our major industrial centres. Nor should it be forgotten that it was the United States who reignited the Cold War in 2002 when Bush abruptly abrogated the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty. So, between using NATO to expand and breaking several other nuclear agreements, the United States and NATO began the process of encircling Russia, which became increasingly suspicious of the motives of the West.

To put it in another way, if Putin had not reacted to the build-up on his borders by invading Donbas and annexing Crimea (which occurred, interestingly, without violence, because most of the population was pro-Russian), he would have lost the trust of the Russian people, who were not blind to what was going on. That’s when Putin, after giving us several warnings about the West crossing Russian red lines, reacted and sent some 120,000 Russian troops into Donbas, which had already become a bloody war by 2022 with some 7000 to 8000 “separatists” murdered by the illegal Kyiv gangster government. It was certainly not in Putin’s interest to destroy the Donbas. To the contrary, he wants to have it back in the Russian sphere of interest and keep it productive, which it once was. So one wonders where all this alleged brutality propaganda is coming from? Motive is necessary, and perhaps when this war is over, there’ll be a more rational reporting of the news.

Fitz: We can talk about this one for three hours, and I’d love to, but I’m aware of your time restrictions. Do you just despair for the current state of the movie industry with the endless Marvel franchise stuff?

OS: I don’t despair because there’s always good movies made, and there are ways to make them. I despair at the lack of depth of the theatrical movie in the United States, because the distribution system rewards essentially only blockbusters and crucifies the less lucrative releases. As a result, it’s very hard for independent and less popular productions to get made and distributed, which is a great loss to the art of cinema. It’s not just a circus business.

Fitz: Of all your movies, the scene that I most loved is in Any Given Sunday, with Al Pacino’s as the ageing Coach D’Amato talking to his team before the big NFL match: “We’re in hell right now, gentlemen, believe me. And we can stay here, get the shit kicked out of us, or we can fight our way back into the light. We can climb out of hell, one inch at a time. Now I can’t do it for you. I’m too old … but the inches we need are everywhere around us. They’re in every break of the game, every minute, every second. On this team, we fight for that inch. On this team, we tear ourselves and everyone else around us to pieces for that inch!” It’s a classic. When you shot it, and Al Pacino delivered it, did you recognise it at the time as that, or only when you saw it at the cinema?

OS: We never know what’s going to hit or not, or connect with an audience. You never know. Yes, that happened to be taken up, and it’s been used by numerous coaches across the country, and possibly on some Australian rugby teams, as a model for rah-rah speeches.

But, nonetheless, that movie called for it, not only because the team was losing, but also because the actor, Al Pacino, was in a mental hole too. He was having problems with ageing. If you remember, the movie is based on his being edged out of his NFL club, which goes on all the time. People get too old. So there was a lot of personal identification with it. At that point, I had been in the movie business a long time. And there were new executives coming in and a lot of them were women. And so that Cameron Diaz character, the team owner, was based in large part on a couple of the cut-throat executives I met in the film business who were young women in their 20s and 30s.

That’s not to say there weren’t cut-throat young men also emerging from colleges and entering the film business without much love or understanding of cinema.

Fitz: But did you have any experience in a dressing room with a coach saying stuff like that in your background? Or anything where a coach had spoken like that?

OS: I played tackle football in elementary school, but the speech was created for the film.

Fitz: You wrote that?

OS: Yeah. Because I believe football most embodies warfare – you win or you lose. It’s tough, gritty, people get hurt, and key decisions have to be made. And you have to recognise that, often, the outcome is a matter of inches.

Fitz: Allow me to say, as somebody who was sort of raised in dressing rooms like that, across several countries, it is extraordinary to me how well you captured it. We’ve all heard the theme of that speech a hundred times, except our coaches were never quite so eloquent as that. I mean, that was extraordinary!

OS: Thank you, that’s what movies are made for, I believe. Movies are bigger than life. And those are the kinds of movies that I especially like. Unfortunately, so many movies now are smaller than life. Times change. I miss the old movies, the spectacular shows.

Fitz: Last question, if I may. Most of us in Australia don’t understand Trump. We sort of understand how he might have been elected once, but after everything that happened, finishing with January 6, we cannot understand how Americans could look at him and go, “Yeah, let’s have four more years of that.”

OS: And if you look at the Biden administration, you can say the same thing. It has gotten America into three wars, if you really think about it: (1) Ukraine, which is really a proxy war to weaken or destroy Russia, which is the most extreme strategy any American president has ever attempted; (2) the Middle East war continued in Israel, with America’s full support of Israel; and (3) now we’re bombing Yemen ourselves.

Biden is a simple-minded, old-fashioned Cold Warrior of the first degree. As mad as [WWII US Air Force] General Curtis LeMay was in his way. He’s extremely dangerous. Trump might not be a solution to this madness, but he’s nothing compared to Biden or to the damage that George W. Bush did to my country by declaring the “War on Terror”, which was wholly unnecessary. He provoked this new world that we’re living in of extreme violence and militarism.

From Bush, it grows to where we are now in a most dangerous position. Obama, then Trump, now Biden, have provoked China as well by declaring a “pivot to Asia” and sending American marines and so forth to Australia, building up the Pacific Fleet … The US is brokering a major war in the Pacific. This is a very incendiary position. I hardly see what’s so wonderful about Biden.

Fitz: He is not Trump, is the first thing that’s wonderful about Biden!

OS: That’s your way of putting it, but I don’t think you fully understand that Biden has truly split the world into two scared camps and abides by the outdated imperial notion that the US can still dominate the world. It cannot. It must accept a multipolar world that can exist economically without war.

Fitz: OK, thanks. It has been one of the privileges of my professional life to speak to you and I seriously thank you.

-Peter FitzSimons, "Trump, Putin and a Sydney ‘love-child’ … I’d chat to Oliver Stone on any given Sunday," The Sydney Morning Herald, Feb 11 2024

[carolap53]

When a Problem Turns Into a Calling TGIF Today God Is First Volume 1 by Os Hillman

09/21/2024

"As for the donkeys you lost three days ago, do not worry about them; they have been found. And to whom is all the desire of Israel turned, if not to you and all your father's family?" 1 Samuel 9:20 Saul and his servant were out seeking his father's lost donkeys. This was symbolic of the waywardness of the nation of Israel. The people of Israel had just asked the prophet Samuel to have a king rule over them. This saddened God greatly, yet God granted their request. Saul and his servant heard of a man of God named Samuel. "Perhaps this man of God can tell us where to find our donkeys," said the servant. Isn't that just like us? We seek God to solve the issues related to material life. Saul was about to receive the greatest opportunity of his lifetime. He was about to be crowned as king of Israel. His life would never be the same. What was he concerned about? His donkeys. We don't have to be worried about the material things of life if we are about the things He's called us to do. God called Saul to be the next king in order to free the people from the Philistines. God sent a messenger, the prophet Samuel, to inform him of his new career. The messenger also had to ease his mind about his donkeys. Donkeys often represent commerce in the Bible. They were the primary means of transporting goods; therefore, in essence, what was Samuel saying to Saul? He was saying, "You don't need to worry about your business if you respond to the call of God on your life. All the material things will take care of themselves." Jesus said the same thing to the disciples years later. "But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Mt. 6:33). When God calls us, it often involves making major adjustments in our lives. Saul went from one kind of business to another. He went from working for his father to being a king. What changes is God calling you to make today in order to join Him in His work?

[mesetacadre]

El Gobierno de la República reconoce a los internacionales que tan bravamente han luchado con nosotros, que ya puede decirse que son connaturales nuestros, el derecho a reclamar, una vez terminada la guerra, la ciudadanía española... España será siempre una patria vuestra. Y los españoles vuestros hermanos.

¡Madres! Cuando los años pasen y las heridas de la guerra se vayan restañando; cuando el recuerdo de estos días dolorosos y sangrientos se esfume en un presente de libertad, de paz y bienestar... hablad a vuestros hijos; habladles de estos hombres de las Brigadas Internacionales. Contadles cómo, atravesando mares y montañas... llegaron a vuestra patria, como cruzados de la libertad, a luchar y morir por la libertad y la independencia de España, amenazados por el fascismo alemán e italiano. Lo abandonaron todo: cariños, patria, hogar, fortuna, madre, mujer, hermanos, hijos... y vinieron a nosotros a decirnos: ¡Aquí estamos!; vuestra causa, la causa de España, es nuestra misma causa, es la causa común de toda la humanidad avanzada y progresista... No os olvidaremos; y cuando el olivo de la paz florezca, entrelazado con los laureles de la victoria de la República española, ¡volved!

Despedida a las Brigadas Internacionales, octubre de 1938, Juan Negrín y Dolores Ibárruri, respectivamente

The Government of the Republic recognizes the bravery of the internationals who have fought with us, it can now be said that they are connatural to us, the right to reclaim, once the war is over, the Spanish nationality... Spain will always be a homeland of yours. And the Spanish your siblings.

Mothers! When the years pass and the war wounds stop bleeding; when the memory of these painful and blood-soaked days fades in a present of liberty, peace, and well-being... talk to your children; talk to them about these men of the International Brigades. Tell them how, traveling through seas and mountains... came to your homeland, like crusaders of liberty, to fight and die for Spain's liberty and independence, threatened by German and Italian fascism. They abandoned everything: affections, homeland, home, fortune, mother, wife, siblings, children... and came here to tell us: Here we are!; your cause, Spain's cause, is our own cause, it's the common cause of all advanced and progressive humanity... We will not forget you; and when the olive of peace flowers, interweaving with the laurels of victory of the Spanish Republic, return!

Farewell to the International Brigades, October 1938, Juan Negrín and Dolores Ibárruri, respectively.

The promise made by Juan Negrín would not be fulfilled until 1996, and ratified in 2007 by the historical memory law in its article 18. By 2007, only 15 of those 35,000 Volunteers of Liberty were still alive, and the last died at 100 years old in 2021. The democratic memory law, passed in 2022, allowed in article 33 for the children and grandchildren of the brigadiers to also claim the Spanish nationality, without losing their own. The Association of Friends of the International Brigades, who participated in this law, assured that there were only about a hundred direct descendants of brigadiers, in places like Cuba, Argentina, Canada, Australia, Italy, France, the UK or Russia. The search for these descendants was done primarily thanks to the Russian State Archive of Socio-Political History, digitized in 2011

[abraao-vidal-galdino]

Bom dia

Guardai-os e observai-os, porque isso é a vossa sabedoria e o vosso entendimento à vista dos povos, que ouvirão todos estes, estatutos, e dirão: Esta grande nação é deveras povo sábio e entendido. Pois que grande nação há que tenha deuses tão chegados a si como o é a nós o Senhor nosso Deus todas as vezes que o invocamos? E que grande nação há que tenha estatutos e preceitos tão justos como toda esta lei que hoje ponho perante vós? Tão-somente guarda-te a ti mesmo, e guarda bem a tua alma, para que não te esqueças das coisas que os teus olhos viram, e que elas não se apaguem do teu coração todos os dias da tua vida; porém as contarás a teus filhos, e aos filhos de teus filhos;

Deuteronômio 4:6-9

Keep therefore and do them; for this is your wisdom and your understanding in the sight of the nations, which shall hear all these statutes, and say, Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people. For what nation is there so great, who hath God so nigh unto them, as the LORD our God is in all things that we call upon him for? And what nation is there so great, that hath statutes and judgments so righteous as all this law, which I set before you this day? Only take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently, lest thou forget the things which thine eyes have seen, and lest they depart from thy heart all the days of thy life: but teach them thy sons, and thy sons' sons;

Deuteronomy 4:6-9

APP Bíblia Bilingue - Disponível na Google Play

[amazoniantreestump]

✷ 𝓦𝓔𝓔𝓚 3 - 𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓽 𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓸𝓭𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓼.

Alongside my flaring interest in the plunderphonic style has been my discovery of an album that has quickly become one of my favorites; released 23 November 2023: Mimosa.

A collaborative effort from Brazilian artists cabezadenego, Mbé and Leyblack, the album uses energetic sampling of Afro-Brazilian music new and old, particular the genre Baile Funk, a music genre of hiphop and Miami Bass sensibilities that originated from the Rio de Janeiro slums - or favelas - in the early 1990s, with a jumpy, vulgar and generally fun attitude.

The sampling approach, as well as very straightforward lyricism about gay sex; entails an incredibly danceable musical experience of black queerness in Brazil: And for me, a window into a part of me nearly forgotten. Not the black part, though. I'm pretty olive.

TRANSLATED FROM A DECEMBER 2023 GABINETE ARTICLE (found on Instagram)

I made an effort to translate this myself, rather than use Google.

I ended up having to search up the translations for the words sintonia, autodenominado and faixas; overall, a nice turnout!

MIMOSA é um disco manifesto e de celebração da tentativa falha de apagamento da cultura e dos ritmos afrobrasileiros que foram, e são, marginalizados e perseguidos desde a formação do país. A sonoridade experimental inteiramente composta por samples constrói uma linha do tempo, uma cronologia, desses ritmos: desde a macumba - sendo a raíz de tudo - passa pelo drum n’ bass e o miami bass, até os funks que são hits hoje no Tik Tok. Com muita sintonia e criatividade, o trio de artistas, a partir de uma residência artística na Espanha, formam um novo time, autodenominado por Luiz Felipe na nossa entrevista como um grupo de jazz cronologista. ‘Mimosa’ possui 14 faixas e está disponível em todas as plataformas digitais.

MIMOSA is a realized album and a celebration of the tentative failure in erasure of the culture and Afro-Brazilian rhythms that were, and are, marginalized and persecuted since the nation's founding.

The experimental sonority, entirely composed from samples, constructs a timeline, a chronology, of these rhythms, from the macumba (Afro-Brazilian religious practice) - being the root of everything - to drum n' bass and Miami bass, even the funks (Brazilian funk songs) that are hits on TikTok today.

With much syntony and creativity, a trio of artists, from an artistic residence in Spain, formed a new team, named by Luiz Felipe in our interview with a chronologic jazz group.

'Mimosa' has 14 varieties (referring to songs) and is available on all streaming platforms.

"For me the sample has the function of reframing (?), you recount the history via a new perspective [...] I find that the sample has a profound connection with black culture through its principles [...] it is based on our very own history. And the sample for me isn't just in music, it is in the argument; you can sample video, you can sample ideas, you can sample words, the way in which we created this project was entirely sampled."

𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓹𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 ✶

The namesake - and sampling style - of my mapping piece draws from Replica, a 2011 plunderphonics album by Oneohtrix Point Never. In this work, artist Daniel Lopatin sampled 80s-90s television advertisements, layering them over thick synthesizer ambience to create a cultural reflection of a bygone time period.

Weingarten, Christopher (October 2011). "Download: Oneohtrix Point Never's Buzzing 'Replica'". The Village Voice.

This philosophy is most apparent in the song "Nassau".

After a day's worth of tinkering in the free audio software Audacity, I finished a 'replica' of my own:

[cksmart-world]

SMART BOMB

The Completely Unnecessary News Analysis

By Christopher Smart

April 30, 2024

CAMPUS PROTESTS: THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT

So Wilson, it must be déjà vu all over again for you and the guys in the band. Campus demonstrations — students getting beat up and arrested. It's gotta bring back fond memories of the war in Vietnam. Cops wielding batons, bloody foreheads, handcuffs, all that good stuff. It's like 1968 all over again. It started at Columbia University where students apparently don't appreciate their bloody fingerprints all over the 34,000 dead in Gaza. The protests spread from NYU to USC. It's the same but different from protests over our disastrous and deadly 10-year soiree through Southeast Asia. The National Guard hasn't killed any students yet — like at Kent State on May 4, 1970 — but give it time. Remember those days, Wilson, when young people wouldn't take ownership of all the bullshit the old, white men were up to in the nation's capital. Those screwups. It's always the young people who have it together. What was the battle cry back then — sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. It does have a ring to it. Yes Wilson, we know, you and the guys took it very seriously. Such dedication. This time around Republicans in Congress are getting into the act with public executions of university presidents for allowing civil disobedience. Meanwhile they hail Jan. 6 insurrectionists as heroes. What're you gonna do? Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.

TOP 10 NAMES FOR UTAH'S NEW NHL TEAM

The Arizona Coyotes NHL hockey franchise is moving to Utah and there's a big buzz over what to name them. Already a bunch of dumb names have been suggested, such as The Pucks, The Blades, The Pioneers etc. etc. So the staff here at Smart Bombs got to work on some totally better proposals. Here they are:

10 – Latter-day Saints

9 – The Jack Mos

8 – Crispy Creams

7 – Swarming Locusts

6 – The Salt Water Taffy

5 – Jesus's Sunbeams

4 – Jiggly Jell-Os

3 – Skating Apostates

2 – Gayful Rainbows

1 – What's wrong with the Coyotes, anyway. We kill plenty of them in Utah each year. How about Grateful Dead Coyotes?

TO RECUSE OR NOT RECUSE — THAT IS NOT THE QUESTION

Recently Rep. Jamie Raskin, D-Md. suggested the U.S. Supreme Court move its chambers to the headquarters of the National Republican Committee because the justices act like partisan hacks. Nanner, nanner, nanner! Raskin took out after the high court's conservative majority as they looked to be receptive to Trump's claim of absolute immunity. But the big question is, does the RNC have parking for Justice Clarence Thomas' 40-foot, $267,000 motor home that he purchased with a “loan” from billionaire Anthony Welters. If not, he'll have to leave it at the Walmart parking lot. During the recent immunity hearing nothing was mentioned about Thomas' wife, Ginni, and her critical involvement in a conspiracy to keep Trump in power after he lost the 2020 election. Some of those liberal nit-pickers say Clarence should recuse himself because he appears to have a conflict of interest. But just because Ginni was up to her neck in the planned coup is no reason Clarence should bow out. That would signal jurisprudence, which has little to do with the Roberts Court mission statement. It hews toward “originalism,” that is, bullshitting your way through any argument by claiming to read the minds of the long-dead framers of the Constitution. And then there's always voodoo.

Post script — That's a wrap for another fabulous but frightening April here at Smart Bomb where we keep track of the nastiness at the Utah Republican State Convention so you don't have to. Hey Wilson, if you think Marjorie Taylor Greene is a bitch you weren't at the state GOP convention. There was so much malevolence there that it threatened to peel the paint off the convention center walls. It made MTG look like a Girl Scout. Let's agree to disagree or I'll rip your f-ing head off. Eesch! The rabid right contingent even booed the mild mannered Gov. Spencer Cox, to which he retorted: “Maybe you hate that I don’t hate enough.” The Party of Trump, where if you ain't mean, you ain't American. People believe what they want to believe. For example: 9/11 was an inside job. George W. Bush pulled it off so he could expand government power and the military industrial complex to profit on the war on terror. Don't forget Pizzagate. Hillary Clinton and her band of thugs ran a child sex ring in the basement of a pizza place in D.C. One problem: no basement. For his part, Donald Trump made 30,573 false or misleading statements while president, according to The Washington Post. Hey Wilson, did you hear that Trump won the 2020 election. It must be true — just ask the MAGAtes.

Reality isn't for sissies. As it was in Vietnam, it's up to the college kids to point out the slaughter in Gaza is inhumane. And as it was then, too, the response of university administrations is flat-footed and dumb-headed. The more things change, well ... So Wilson, get the guys in the band and take us back to the future:

There's something happening here But what it is ain't exactly clear There's a man with a gun over there Telling me I got to beware I think it's time we stop Children, what's that sound? Everybody look - what's going down? There's battle lines being drawn Nobody's right if everybody's wrong Young people speaking' their minds Getting so much resistance from behind It's time we stop Hey, what's that sound? Everybody look - what's going down? What a field day for the heat A thousand people in the street Singing songs and carrying signs Mostly saying, "hooray for our side" It's time we stop Hey, what's that sound? Everybody look - what's going down? Paranoia strikes deep Into your life it will creep It starts when you're always afraid Step out of line, the man come and take you away We better stop Hey, what's that sound? Everybody look - what's going down?

(For What It's Worth — Buffalo Springfield)

[strangecloud]

I realize the irony of posting this in English but if you'll have me, I'd like to hypothesize about the future of technology in my home country of Brazil.

Okay, so. As I understand it, back in the 70s, there was some political motion to protect homegrown IT industries, which included computer and parts manufacturing. This involved taxing foreign products heavily to limit imports. I have no idea if IBM or Commodore had any presence in the country back in the day but I have personally never seen any of their machines for as long as I've been using computers, since the early 2000s. As a result, anything that wasn't a low-quality national machine was too expensive to afford.

This is, in my opinion, the single greatest mistake the country has ever made and has done irreparable damage to the technological and economic fabric of Brazilian society.

During my brief, poorly compensated time at a software company as a support agent and QA technician, the glimpses I caught at business-grade computer tech our clients were working with was bleak. I'm talking Windows XP machines running Dual-Cores and rocking 2GB of RAM. Legacy OS support on our software was a pain and every time I had to remote into a 7 or XP machine it was very annoying to get it working.

This is a symptom of expensive tech being bad for companies and services. And because the tech is bad, the service suffers and makes it harder to acquire good tech. And this goes all the way back to those original policies. Tech in Brazil is a luxury item and most people make do with the bare minimum to operate a business in any capacity, often cutting corners and using faulty equipment that can, and has, caused permanent damage to businesses.

I bring this up because with the silicon shortage and the crypto-into-AI boom, I foresee a period of extreme tech stagnation beyond even what I described.

Some of you may have noticed that Nvidia pivoted into "not being a graphics company anymore". The reason being that they realized selling hardware to consumers is, apparently, a sucker's way of doing things. Finance suits are willing to build entire complexes housing industrial amounts of rigs to, at first, do crypto shit and more recently host their generative transformers to churn out garbage .jpgs and nonsense text.

Simply put, there's only so much magic sand to make into die wafers and the MSRP on consumer tech is so unreasonable to the point that it's more expedient to sell it to tech evangelists with more money than sense at highly inflated prices.

AMD is getting their ass handed to them in part because they can't do AI as good as Nvidia does. With only so many resources available to make these things, more will always go to the ones with the money to reinvest in business, and when pickings are slim for consumers the market gets even more pricey and exclusive.

So. Prices in Brazil are already stupid because of some dictatorship-era move some idiots pulled half a century ago, but with this new development I believe we are looking at an actual tech crisis.

Consider for a moment that hardware might get so inaccessible that by 2025, when Windows 10 support is dropped, businesses and people might not be able to afford the minimum specs for Windows 11, which will not let you install it if you don't meet these system requirements. The whole country is at risk of becoming a techno-wasteland of people using ancient software on secondhand hardware that is unreliable and costly to replace. This exposes businesses and people to significant security and operational risks, driving down the quality of services and deflating the economy even more.

If there's one good thing about this is that people are realizing that Microsoft's business model is bad and that Windows kinda sucks. Smarter businesses are going to transition to Linux, and while I am careful not to put my hopes on the general public to not take the path of least resistance, I've seen a not insignificant amount of general consumers who have claimed to be willing to do the switch by the time Windows 10 hits the bricks.

The 2020s might be a very challenging decade for good old Brazil.