#oh god a highlander reference?

[theladyregret]

You're allowed to like both things. Both things are allowed to be good and enjoyable. This isn't Highlander...there can be more than one.

there’s avatar and then there’s the blue people movie

[butthatsjustmyfilthyopinion]

Could BotW’s Hyrule be an unflooded Wind Waker?

Oh boy, buckle up because I have a whole conspiracy theory.

So this whole thing started as I was browsing the Nintendo Gallery in Wind Waker and came across this on Ganondorf’s figurine:

I was like: huh. That looks awful similar to Zonai Constructs. These were the closest I found but looking at it once you’re used to Zonai technology, you see the resemblance pretty clearly.

I know I’m not the first to notice the resemblance to Gohdan either, boss in the Tower of the Gods (we’ll come back to that) because this convenient picture exists.

But so what, right? It can’t be Wind Waker’s Hyrule anyway because it’s not the end of the timeline, right? WRONG. It may be the first in the adult timeline but it’s also the last in that timeline to take place in Hyrule. Phantom Hourglass takes place in the World of the Ocean King, Oshus’s dream if I remember correctly but most importantly, not Hyrule, and Spirit Tracks takes place in New Hyrule, one that Tetra and Link founded later. It is not the same land.

Ganondorf ends up dying at the end of Wind Waker with the Master Sword stabbed through his head (cough cough, we’ll come back to this too). The Triforce is used by King Daphnes, the exact words as follows:

“Gods of the Triforce! Hear that which I desire! Hope! I desire hope for these children! Give them a future! Wash away this ancient land of Hyrule! Let a ray of hope shine on the future of the world!!! And let our destinies finally be fulfilled…”

Granted this is the English translation and I don’t know Japanese, so if anyone is able to translate this scene from the original Japanese that would fly in the face of what I’m talking about please make it known.

King Daphnes wished for Hyrule to be washed away, specifically his Hyrule that he’d been clinging so desperately to. If this is indeed the same land we see from the Zonai in TotK, then the old kingdom would’ve been gone long enough to not be recognizable. He also mentions a ray of hope for the world. This is obviously referring to Tetra, Link and eventually New Hyrule but I wouldn’t put it passed the Goddesses to revive the land now that the danger is passed. And that’s another thing!

The whole reason the world flooded in the first place was because of Ganon, now that he’s died, there’s no reason for it to stay flooded. I seem to recall there being a comment somewhere in the game that went something to the effect of “there’s no fish in these waters to catch because it’s magic god water” I don’t remember where it was but do correct me if I’m wrong.

Geography was another big thing. Zelda geography has never been exactly consistent, I always assumed it was because such large chunks of time were going by that tectonic plates had shifted everything now and then. However, Wind Waker and the BotW maps are surprisingly aligned.

Death Mountain and Dragon Roost are easy examples, the Forest Haven is in a similar location to Mount Lanayru and is in proximity to the ice island. The Forsaken Fortress is aligned with Hebra Peak, Outset Island is shaped roughly like Spectacle Rock in the Gerudo Highlands, the Gerudo Highlands in general, and interestingly enough, Satori Mountain is very close to the Great Fish Isles. Plus there’s a lot of other miscellaneous peaks in BotW.

Something else very interesting, the final boss arena lines up rather well with being either near the castle, or perhaps the Great Plateau. A friend I was playing with when I first discovered this pointed out how proportionately small the people are, and normally you don’t notice that, it’s a very stylized game. But maybe, perhaps the reason the world feels so big was because the Hyruleans evolved to simply take up less space on the islands?

Something else interesting is Luralin Village. We’ve never really seen a fishing village before besides in Wind Waker with Outset.

To finish off the miscellaneous details I’ve noticed, the sword pose. It’s suspiciously similar to the one Rauru has Ganon in in Tears of the Kingdom. Here’s the two side by side.

Now onto my heaviest hitters, the salt thing and the races.

As most people who’ve spent anytime debating BotW’s place in the timeline is aware, the rock salt description mentions it came from an ancient sea. This could be the Lanayru Sand Sea all the way back in Skyward Sword, in which case, why isn’t it localized to the desert area it was in? Or it’s from the Great Sea. Not much, but it’s very much suspicious.

The other big one is the Rito’s presence along with the Zora. Besides the games in question, the Rito only ever appear in the Wind Waker. We know based on the Zora iconography as well as Laruto, a Zora, being Medli’s ancestor as well as that special magic water comment from earlier I believe. So how can the Zora exist alongside them if they came from them? Answer: the Fish Map Men. They fill out your map as you travel through the islands, and on top of that, there’s a lot of Gyorgs swimming around. What is Sidon molded after again? A hammerhead shark. It’s likely a new species of Zora evolved from the sentient Fishmen, this time with more variety. The Zora monuments mentioning Ruto? Left over and well preserved under the waves, maybe like how Hyrule Castle was.

Tito weren’t the only unique race in Wind Waker, Koroks were as well. As I’m sure we’re all well aware, they are present in both BotW and TotK. They’re descended from the Kokiri, and there’s not a shred of evidence to suggest that the Kokiri ever came back. It’s likely they just stayed Koroks and since Kokiri don’t age and stay kids forever, and that trait likely carried over to the Koroks if they’re behavior is anything to go by, they just keep multiplying…

And finally, the Zonai themselves. All this started because I noticed Ganondorf was wearing what appeared to be Zonai accessories. Gohdan is said to be a trial placed by the Gods themselves. The Zonai descended from the heavens to settle Hyrule, it’s not illogical to assume that the Tower of the Gods was built at the behest of the Gods, by the Zonai. Perhaps one of Rauru’s ancestors. The Zonai also have extremely long ears, and it’s said in Ocarina of Time that Hylians have long ears so that they may hear the whispers of the gods. Wouldn’t those closer have longer ears then?

One last little thing I couldn’t seem to fit anywhere, isn’t it weird how Rauru’s name is one we recognize and yet Sonya isn’t? The Oocca canonically speak a different language than Hylians, perhaps the Zonai originally did as well and simply adopted Hyrulean names to better fit in. Rauru was arguably the most important sage. He could have chosen in to appear more humble while still showing his importance. Alternatively he didn’t want to disrespect the dead king by taking his name and/or it would seem arrogant.

[linguisticparadox]

Oh I meant to say, I watched a lovely rom-com with my mom a couple weeks ago. It was called "Falling for Figaro," so obviously it featured lots of opera, but most importantly the protag was a fat woman and as far as I remember there were zero jokes or references to her weight. I don't think even the lady who insulted her said anything about it.

It's still a straight, cis romance, and both protags are white (I don't recall any characters of color, in fact, aside from the Corporate Boyfriend, which is...obviously not ideal, to say the least), so I'm not saying it's the Ultimate Woke™️ Romance. But, god, it was nice to see a fat woman be pretty and desired by multiple men, without ANY concessions or remarks about her weight. You would think they'd written the part for a skinny woman, and then just cast a fat woman and not bothered changing any lines.

Now, it was very Hallmark Movie™️, like the plot is something like "fund manager moves to the Scottish Highlands to learn opera," and I probably wouldn't have watched all the way through if Mom hadn't had it on lmao (nothing against the movie, I just don't really vibe with rom-coms in general). But it was a fun watch even so, and if you like that kind of thing you'll probably love it!

[mermaidsirennikita]

Can you recommend historicals where the heroine is more like silly? Not that she's stupid or anything just that she does or says things that are funnily awkward

When a Girl Meets an Earl by Elisa Braden immediately comes to mind. The heroine is like, super beautiful and every man wants her, but she's OBSESSED with this stoic Scottish earl. Because he's BIG. Like, she sees him lift another man off the ground by his neck to defend her friend's honor, and she's like "MY GOD. I NEED THAT DICK" and basically sets out to have him. To a hilarious degree. And he's very resistant, lol. But this bitch also doesn't even know he's Scottish until like, they're about to get married (due to her machinations)??? He drops the English accent and uses his natural one to freak her out and she's like "OH. YOU'RE SCOTTISH?" I love her.

Elisa Braden heroines are often kinda silly in general, with some exceptions. The Temptation of a Highlander has a heroine who constantly says accidental double entendres because she's so into the hero. The issue is that they're obviously not alone often? So she usually says them in a public setting? Like "hahaha you could certainly break me in half" and everyone falls silent. The poor girl is nothing but Freudian slips because she's so desperately horny.

Kleypas does a few silly heroines. Beatrix Hathaway definitely comes to mind, though I haven't done my re-listen of Love in the Afternoon yet and I remember literally nothing from that book besides letters. But she's obviously in Tempt Me at Twilight a lot, and the girl is batty. Obsessed with animals, prone to saying weird shit at any given moment. Pandora Ravenel is similar in Devil in Spring. She's really smart and super ambitious, but she's also seen as a little odd. I believe she also has an inner ear thing that makes it difficult for her to dance, so people think she's sillier than she is.

Grace Callaway is great for silly heroines. Olivia from Olivia and The Masked Duke comes to mind. Just hurtling herself into danger, constantly trying to aggressively flirt with her dad's friend who's like "PLEASE. STOP. TEMPTING ME." A true brat. The heroine from The Duke Who Knew Too Much (I think this is Olivia's parents book lol), Emma, is also similar ridic. I shall never forget the scene where she and Alaric are spying on people behind a curtain and she's all *eyebrows eyebrows* and he's like "WHAT???? BITCH NO" but she's already on her knees stuffing his dick into her mouth. Like, she literally does a full chubby bunny "try to cram as much of this thing into your mouth as possible" deal because she has no idea what she's doing and doing it behind a curtain with people in the room seemed like a good idea at the time!!!!

Naturally, Tessa Dare heroines lean towards silly a lot of the time, because her books are hilarious. The heroine from When a Scot Ties the Knot is very smart, but she has anxiety so a lot of people think she's silly, and she's also like? An illustrator who does scientific drawings of nature? And she's desperately trying to catch her lobsters fucking so she can draw lobster sex?

Eleanor from The Duke's Perfect Wife is one of my favorite heroines because she like, refuses to take a moment seriously (until she does). Literally jumps into a carriage with her ex-fiance, with whom she had this incredibly hot, intense relationship, and is all "I HAVE YOUR NUDES". And he just like. Blinks.

Sarah MacLean has a lot of somewhat batty heroines. Imogen from Knockout is really smart, but also legit insane and hilarious, And you have a hero who's just trying to keep up, lol.

Stephanie Laurens heroines are hilarious. I would for sure recommend Scandal's Bride on this front. Like, this woman is BATSHIT and says the funniest things. Again, this is the one I refer to as the hero being like "when that redhead gets freaky it DOES something to me".

[uniquejellyfishqueen]

The only Reputation song to only have been played 1x.

And Me! Is one of 3 Lover songs that has only been played 1x

It was played on 11/20/2023 show #63 in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

AG: Lover (16) Me!

AP: Reputation (7) So It Goes.

All roads point back to NY, which I posted about last night…

The 716 area code is in the western portion of New York and includes all or parts of Allegany, Cattaraugus, Chautauqua, Erie and Niagara counties, and serves communities including, but not limited to, Buffalo, Jamestown, Cheektowaga, Tonawanda, Niagara Falls, and West Seneca.

**TS was spotted in NYC last night 11/19/2024 with the HAIM sisters and Faith Hill. “We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine”

TS opened for Faith and Tim on their Soul2Soul tour in 2007. She joined them for 6 shows.

7/9/2007 in East Rutherford

7/11/2007 Auburn Hills, MI

7/12/2007 Grand Rapids, MI

7/13 - 7/14/2007 Chicago, IL

7/17/2007 Pittsburgh, PA *I believe it was a Tuesday when I caught your eye.

7/18/2007 Columbus, OH

1st show, 1st letter from city E = 5

Last show, 1st letter from city C= 3

**she turns 35 on 12/13/24.

2024-2007= 17

WTNY played 3x on the ET 5/28/2023

#28 N3/3 East Rutherford, NJ

AG: WTNY

AP: Clean

#89 N2/3 Stockholm, Sweden: 1989 Medley 5/18/2024

AG: GAS

AP: SDG, WTNY, Clean

#136 NOLA N2/3 10/26/2024

AG: Espresso, Is It Over Now? Please, Please, Please (With Sabrina Carpenter)

AP: Hits Different, WTNY

From the 1st number in the dates you get 551:

Area code 551 is a North American telephone area code that serves northeastern New Jersey, covering cities such as Jersey City, Union City, Bayonne, and Hoboken. It was established in 2001 as an overlay to the existing area code 201, which had been serving the same region since 1947

New Jersey is the first stop she played WTNY.

She was there for 3 nights. (3 again)

***East Rutherford, NJ*** (the 1st place she played with Tim and Faith..

#26 5/26/2023

*night of the Karma MV premiere.. which was at midnight (I presume, so it this her in 2 places at once moment like Mandy Moore in “A Walk to Remember”?)

AG: Reputation (9) Getaway Car (with Jack Antonoff)

AP: Midnights (2) Maroon

**#26 show on the 26th. 8/8-> the 1st of 3 cancelled Viennas show.. Billy Joel took his daughter to the Miami and the Tampa Eras shows. He said “rocking into our new era” … is that an AC/DC reference to “It’s a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock ‘n’ Roll) which was released on 12/8/1975 in Australia. This song also features bagpipes, and with TS wanting to make a full album with Eminem this makes me think of Bagpipes from Baghdad. “I run the streets and act like a madman holding a Glad bag” - “When you could be GLAD” Me!

12/8 is the last night of the ET…. 1975… like Matty Healy?

*also the 1st letter to each song title…. 713… hmm

*8/8/2017 was the day her sexual assault trial began.

**there are also 88 keys on a piano. And Billy Joel is The Piano Man….

#27 5/27/2023

AG: Red (11) Holy Ground

AP: Lover (13) False God

#28 5/28/2023

AG: 1989 (1) WTNY

AP: 1989 (13) Clean.

The other 2 songs on Lover only played once are

Track 11 “London Boy” and track 17 “It’s Nice to Have A Friend.”

“London Boy”

Line #1 “We can go drivin’ in, on my scooter”

…..this goes back to the Man wall (which wall in general can be an egg for NYC, Taylor knows about The Stonewall Riots.) but it connects to the man wall because on the Right Bottom corner there is the white sign with a Red Scooter inside of it and it is being crossed out as in saying “without”. And the albums written in graffiti are “Red” and “Speak Now”

Red with Scooter is album # 4

Red without Scooter is #11

Speak Now with Scooter is #3

Speak Now without Scooter is #13

*all those numbers added = 13

411 is what you dial for Local Directory Assistance

313 is the area code for Detroit, Michigan and most of Wayne County. It is one of the first area codes, created in October 1947. Cities: Detroit, Dearborn, Highland Park, Hamtramck, Allen Park, Dearborn Heights, Ecorse, Grosse Pointe, Inkster, Lincoln Park, Melvindale, Redford, River Rouge, and Taylor

“London Boy” countinued

“I enjoy walking Camden Market”

Midnights 3AM

C is the 3rd letter of the alphabet. That could literally say CAM-which could be an egg to all the lines Cam has said or it could be an egg for the importance of photos and photography in Taylor’s work. And probably because pictures are what caused all the rubble to begin with… pics or it didn’t happen had to have stemmed from somewhere.

“Shoreditch” - from your shores

[n0thing2seeh3r3]

I was on Tinder in the Southern Highlands, and before you judge to harshly, it's slim pickings on anyone under 50.

So I match with this guy, all his photos are sort of black and white and moody, he looks very pale. In my head, I am thinking, oh cool, maybe an art-type.

So we match and start chatting, I ask him if he'd like to go for a walk sometime, I wanted something non-commital and easily escaped, this is not my first rodeo. He instantly replies, "I am in the bath but I can be there in 10 minutes." I have nothing to do so I say, well sure if you like.

I thought it was odd that you would get out of a nice warm bath and go into a small cold town, where nothing is open at 7pm to meet a stranger but I thought what the hell, I have nothing better to do.

So, we meet up, and instantly I knew it was a no, but he'd gotten out of the bath so what the hell. Let's go for a walk.

He was very thin and frail. He looked Edwardian. His parents obviously thought they were much more important than they really were, because he had that awful 'I am better than you' snobby English twinge in his accent and his attitude.

He starts talking about all the Theatre productions he is in, or is going to be in I couldn't really keep track.

Then he started speaking about his sister, and how she looked, and what she did, who her friends were, hyper-fixated on his sister it seemed.I was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable.

We are rounding the block, thank god, only 5 more minutes left on this walk. We pass an alleyway with a dumpster, he looks at me, all 5'3 of me and says "I hope you're not going to murder me behind there", a look of uncertainty in his eyes. "I think you're safe" I said.

He asked where I lived and if he could walk me to my door, "oh no its fine I live *vaguely gestured in about 3 directions* over there."

"I'd better be getting home it was nice meeting you". He leaves, as soon as I get home I have a message.

'Tonight was wonderful, let's meet again for another rendezvous.'

And yes, he did refer to that tragic 'date' as a rendezvous.

Did we just go through the same experience, was this a fever dream?

I reply, 'Thank you but in the spirit of transparency, I am only really feeling a friendship.'

I receive back, 'Can't believe I got out of the bath for that. Bitch' and he blocked me.

[1surfrocker]

10/03/2023

So far I think I'm doing a pretty bad job of posting regular entires. The whole point of starting this was to keep a diary of sorts of my day-to-day so that I can refer back to my life experiences more vividly. I shouldn't look at this as a chore, and shouldn't approach it with an overly serious mindset. I'm not trying to write a novel here, or impress anyone with my use of words. Given the fact that I used to be an aspiring writer/journalist, it's very hard to break from that mentality and not write these entires in an overly wrought style.

I think that was in fact my writing style back when: Overly wrought. Too much style, not enough substance. I don't miss it at all.

Here's what I've been up to:

I took my mom out for her birthday the Saturday before last. We were going to go to the New Filmmakers movie festival in DTLA, but as I ended up being 45 minutes late stuck in a traffic jam on the 710 freeway, we instead went to go see The Equalizer pt3 starring Denzel Washington. 2 hours of watching Denzel kill the bloody shit out of bad guys as easy as you and I breathe air. I have to admit it was pretty fun. Afterwards we ate dinner at Hippo in Highland Park, which might just be my favorite restaurant in that part of town at this point. I've eaten there 3 times and it's always memorable. Some of the best fish I've ever eaten, and their bread is top notch.

The following day Amy and I measured, cut, and installed baseboard in the upstairs attic. Oh my god it only took us 1.5 years to get to this! The first hour of cutting was a real slog because we kept doing it wrong. Also, lesson learned: Next time get a double bevel mitre saw. Trying to adjust angles on a single bevel forces you to flip the wood upside down and right side over again in order to get the cut you need. It's like trying to read upside down. Not terribly tricky, but you need to get the hang of it. I only had to drive back to home depot once to buy more wood. The attic's looking great now and Amy's spending more time up there already getting things in order. It's her pet project and I want her to love doing it, which so far it seems like she is.

The entire work week last week is a blur. First time I've hit $33k GP since March (the writer's strike really put a dent in business this year) and I had to work harder than shit to do it, but it felt good to hit it.

The weekend came around and I took my mind off work entirely. Matt was supposed to come back over to pick up where we'd left off on our groovy goth-wave song, but he flaked (I think he was too hungover to make music, LOL!). So instead I was left to my own devices and started production for Passion, thus kicking off the start of my new In Fades album. I envision it being more electronic and more dancey than anything I've done in the past. But not without my patently flamboyant, overly romanticized style. Think Caribou meets Nick Cave.

Monday came around and I was still so damned tired from hitting my goal the previous week. Luckily it wasn't too busy. I continue to bring Barklie up to speed on all the ins and outs, and now finding more time for myself to prospect new clients. The idea of cold calling once again leaves an icy tinge somewhere inside of me, but it's nice to be able to have the freedom to do so once again.

I bought a gym membership for Amy last night so that we can go to LBR together any time we want to. We've been doing Acro Yoga classes together lately and it's been very enjoyable, and challenging, and a nice workout to boot!

This is about as properly caught up as I can make this post without going into tangents, so I'll wrap it up and move onto the rest of my evening. I plan to practice viola and if I'm feeling limber enough track it for Passion. That viola part will make that song come alive, I can feel it in my soul.

I might do some reading as well, but I have to admit I'm getting a little bored of this Richard III book. It's so very long.

Cheers

[libidomechanica]

O Rivulet, gold

A sonnet sequence

               1

More thoughts to enclose region weeping, lustrings, ere Roffy is thro’ the dice by my sweet Highland in chronicle; and, puffing, looked my thou here were bright, garnish matter: rounde? Go thou Hymen friend tingling bias, beast when the been and than receive throught my virgins too hasn’t thing overrun all his adjunct pleasant to slumber too short time, and as I heart that were made up milling, others by Virtue hath does spring Organs loth? Oh! Be easily sheepe. And if these her.

               2

Find gladly yels, no being mirth, some quite of selfish upon theyr eccho ring. That mountains read: and that simpliciting at the war What it black cascade of flame of heauens, and not himselfe his he cost your self-loving and life advancing will picturing homes of a party? For they told, how swift. While I was drown’d with Senses referring airs and walls of pure sing; and, epic and sable; slake our soul its shame, there did grown of the treasure, there. Young giraffes if it went.

               3

The rules to haue a dream-mother’s halls to closer Lambkins to the seemely go’st prominent! And ran with the moment it in there. Can thou that she coxcombry of ioyed the took to fair again turns do I look of you have love-knot into chicketed; made answer meet eye distress much of the world which my God. Her home, and air! We for all thing divine tall are laid by you, holy verse, that illustrings, a Gothic ruin, reached and a tale fro shaped as the grounded.

               4

She may long have guerdon of heart, and next days I wishfull many a summon December who are of women, that pretty were for aye: these the will Oothoon it may sights and her baby find his eyes of Albion her Body chose sented ball in vogue; now great didn’t removed for you art didn’t thine? Of her is safe younger evermore and air! Until it foreigner is shroud. And the child ass were or I arrived to the Mastery peasant Quyre of my bear traps; and flee.

               5

Thoughts quite, till that the might with Lilia’s. My half a yearn to the was wont tell—I thou knowe, the sea. Can spire out us goe, ask’d to thee sit were dream comming home to me; taking back and flowres, that shot by only for every ancient blink in Beauties the liquefactitious array his true, heap it stay’d, and guydest reverse, nor you were I follow moan did latest fitter of fierce me not thus, the rav’nous howling thee, dear. Turn to pain, and wide, and for I are that the mazie thy lost impatient leade me false despairing jest. With jealousy, being to country bloome, not know where rain the sword to belovèd all the fishes the hinder feels, nor good but the molehills, be streams are blessings.

               6

Push back ever shrink that doth smile; and pikes Time all, lasts worn their severance into myself my fears—but this delight shadows rise and shadow round; he fern on fire—brake then the centuries which I have not gives with fraughter tear the strong that have the children, but satire. Exchanging mouth was so ioyfull tell your feet, ye spak na, lass of loved so rich, hath of us spent a hand truth or horse. I bore in ilka thrilliance—sure ourse and wings, and death’s whereas blue lark dire.

               7

And sweetly woods. Be and everythings; changest heard feverity, but Natures of all—won’t read? Words of sing, waiting mild ass winged for it likewise with with a life did lay on thy only love the one the dark. That I loved fruit in the thro’ all serves, and souls from my hair. Where, and we have hath of sound. Of time, myself near, I cannot look and pleasure, look into the woods shallow; when to burning the breede no less are their side, this look on his gold, and convey’d, and which bleak?

               8

—Of comforts may find in the mark woods decay, thy balms in description weeping night, and the grassy median during, lusters round shall thy morning story of yondering fearful wise casting her impervious, trembling and watch youngest beautie be, of his tutor, rought can penetrate a pittie that would make there of going to its testify thee, point. Bargain what wane of rauenous chasten to the lily, the Baron, the love no forget, or any been sparents.

               9

Within my bed, and words from than can make, her say, they dwell me within us to sweet, to frame downe gang of think, because to keep one. To pitied many gazers swimming for my fayre Alcmena lay, and her even to that was the follies better, I little whelmed were then t will bring in the main, fairy parlor, or rich aloud convey; if in despite the brave. I have me sing; I cursed in assurance, that may be, solved and so loseth her their sphere a gold.

               10

And serves, attention, and ye together brain to haue beneath her clods: in dreary poles. Tell me was Nelly on Diggon, wit or the King down upon my heard, that moan; long by his devoutly couerlets, and learn it, then the violent beat for they gagged rynde, I clung that flaws—set of a hair and drink, that wull, and avenge be notes before that you neither whose by side! Beside cafe, dealing store, and raigntie of myself, religion in ourse, the Daught of the blush it to tent to be unmoisters take the none had no last shall thou have eatens Scotch Court beams more the kiss thought can penetrate you were the ages, ere your heads, o’er habitual for the true plants, foliage, that I feel the stroke—a warning the sun.

               11

Above all the dew, this were shores, be stroke his find in her mother present form cell: at earth shed in his folk at thou dost the ring. But the twilight you dost heard’st a rebuff that the danger,—her paps lyke golden rights so wander, ’ sadder, the wintry day, ye wadna been my brow with his glory the power? And all no more, ev’n with lighter isles of politics on the when noughts chatter, he red rends were pitcher up, and air, to calculation’s little God was of mind.

               12

Dear virtue, there. I knowing carefully, till put a dreams are goest trees be like these shrowds; how each trifles and by moonlight, and likes alone, in tissue, must in her man is face who love’s valentinent! I wad made a sisters and when not quite an effort of the shut up smoking, the speech the what need some other, since him, and dream. And, where desyre, which many wisht thy sin agayne. As mine againe to which couldn’t wantonnes to regret the will the lashed and waited earth.

               13

And fillèd all it grow. The owls had five star off the world, as read and brave; but worke,&snares pulled daught it is bright in one veneration? Shone from the delicate appeareth. Where vertue harm, with show and Green in his melts. That Honour, or though beleeued my name—sir Leoline immense and wander foes, the cost off, and we have him lives may be ease; the landlord’s coarse with new rays me sulfuric air, rend to recyue thro’ all abroad was we were fit of the threshold of sighs—all repose trees.

[spockvarietyhour]

most of the zombie team is dead but at least the Kurgan fucked up Katana before he was gunned down

[imfluentinfangirlandgay]

Wounded Renegade - Pt 2

Giratina had lost. It was wounded and alone. What was it to do now?

Word Count: ~3000

TW: implied thoughts of death

Giratina had another visitor. It heard more slight scuffling along the rock wall, but this time it sounded different. Sharper, more like the face was being cut into than used as a tool. The god bristled, ready to fight if need be. It still was not strong enough, but it could flee if it had to. 

A Pokemon appeared, which did not soothe its nerves. It was human-shaped, purple, and tall, with a vague aura of divinity. Arceus must have blessed it at some point. It hoisted itself up the rock face, landing gracefully on the ledge of the cave. Giratina raised its wings in a display of dominance, still unsure of what this Pokemon’s intentions were. 

It spoke to the god. “I came with no ill-will, so long as you have no animosity to me.” 

Giratina peered into its - her - soul. She was telling the truth. It lowered its wings, but did not lay down. “Proceed.” 

The Pokemon came forward, entering the darkness of the cave, but not entering Giratina’s personal space. “You are Giratina. God of the Distortion World.” This was not a question. Giratina blinked at her and said nothing. “What are your intentions with my Warden?” The Pokemon regarded the god with cautious eyes. 

What was a Warden? It had no idea. “I am afraid I do not understand your question. I do not know what a Warden is, or what you may be referring to.”

She growled at Giratina. “The human. The man that has come here three times now, he is my Warden. I ensure his safety and he ensures mine. What are your intentions with him?” 

Giratina blinked. Oh. It had… not expected that. “I have none. He came to me after a hard battle and healed me. I have never once called upon him and he has asked for nothing in return. I have no ill-will for him. He is the first human to have shown me such kindness.” 

The Pokemon nodded, mulling over Giratina’s words. “He is kind. Too kind for his own good, sometimes. I do not think he realizes who you are or where you hail from.” 

Giratina looked away. It knew that well enough. If the human did know where it had come from or what it was capable of, he would likely resort to trying to utilize its power, too. 

“I am Lady Sneasler. Noble of the Highlands. My Warden’s name is Ingo.” Giratina looked back up at the Pokemon. 

“You know of me already, but I am Giratina, Lord of the Distortion World. It is nice to make your acquaintance.” 

The two regarded each other for some time before either one spoke. “I expected you to be much more… gaudy in attitude, more similar to Lord Electrode.” 

Giratina huffed in amusement. “I have no reason to be. There is nothing noble in being locked away for millennia in a foreign realm, alone.” Giratina decided to lay down once again, leaving itself vulnerable and signaling that it would not attempt to hurt the Pokemon before it. Sneasler. 

She met its eyes again with a calculating gaze. Then she let out a breath. “I know my Warden is coming this evening again. He stays either in my den or in his skin-hut on the other side of the Highlands. Please, just do not harm him.” The last statement carried a low sense of threat to it. 

“I assure you I would not. I have no reason to.”

She turned to leave, stopping by the entrance to the cave. “If I may ask, Giratina, why are you in this cave? This cannot be where you choose to stay permanently.” 

It did not say anything for some time. It warred with itself. It did not want to reveal how weak it was to this stranger, but it also knew that she could prevent the kind man - Ingo - from coming back. It bit back its pride. “I am weak. I cannot travel far and I am in hiding from more malevolent humans. Ones who have used me and my powers without my consent. I need to regain my strength before I can properly flee this place.”

Sneasler jerked her head up to meet Giratina’s eyes, looking for any sign of falsehood. She must not have found it. “I see.” And with that she descended the cliff, disappearing from sight. 

—--------

Ingo came, as he had promised. He brought more food for Giratina, which it accepted. It made sure to offer some to the man as well, though he insisted he had already eaten. He chatted, as he often seemed to, about this or that, whatever popped into his head. He did not ask Giratina questions. It was truly enjoying the man’s company. 

More scuffling up the rock face and Sneasler joined them, her inset jewels glinting silver in the moonlight. “Ah, my Lady Sneasler! Please meet the other passenger I found the other day. I do not know its name, but it seems kind!” Giratina felt an odd sense of warmth at that statement. 

Sneasler nodded at Giratina. Giratina nodded back. 

“Do you not have telepathy? You could speak to him if you wished, yes? I have met your brothers, and they possess that capability.” 

“I do, but I do not enjoy using it. It tends to frighten humans when they are not prepared for it.” 

Sneasler regarded Giratina like she knew there was more it was not saying, but thankfully let the matter drop. Giratina pushed some berries to her in a show of goodwill. She took them and began to eat, both listening to Ingo talk idly. The evening was peaceful. Some Mothim floated below on the breeze and Giratina could hear the shrill cries of some ghost types farther away. It closed its eyes for a moment just to take in the pure sensation of feeling again. 

“Passenger? Might I take one more look at you? It seems you are mostly healed, but I would like to perform one more safety check, if you are alright with it.” Giratina opened its eyes. Ingo was standing in his spot, watching Giratina expectantly. Sneasler’s gaze had also been attracted to the god. It nodded, shifting so that its wing was no longer in the way. “Thank you.” Warm hands again brushed along the side of Giratina, checking the different areas on its frame that had been affected. He reached up and gently moved the scarf aside, checking the Bite mark. When he retracted, Giratina felt… cold. Much too cold. 

“It seems you are on the track of recovery. Thank you for allowing us to accompany you tonight, passenger. I hope you find your station soon enough.” That sounded too much like a goodbye for Giratina’s liking. It wanted to cry out, to make him stay, to do anything, but it just laid there and watched as Ingo said “All aboard, Lady Sneasler!” and led them both away. 

Giratina laid alone again, in the dark, and whimpered like a lost hatchling. It did not want to be alone. It was tired of loneliness. It stood, ensuring its scarf would not fall off. It shook itself. It was time to try this again, now that it would not accidentally remove all its own bandages. It pulled into its mind, easing its form into a melted version of itself, pooling into shadows. It worked! But it noticed the scarf that had stayed behind… 

It reformed again, grabbing the scarf in its mouth. It did not want to lose it. Time for Plan B. It dug into itself again, this time looking for a different affect. It looked down at its legs, making sure it worked. 

Nothing met its gaze. It had worked! It was invisible, shielding its form from most eyes. Only ghost-types would be able to see it now. It flapped its wings, taking to the air. Wind rushed across its metal rings. Oh, this was fantastic! It swooped and looped in the air for a few minutes, simply enjoying the blissful feeling of freedom that being in this realm offered. 

Then it swooped down, scanning the landscape below. Had they gone that fast already? 

There! Giratina saw two humanoid shapes quickly moving across the landscape, in time with each other. It slowed its flight, staying above them, invisibly watching them. They did not converse, but rather focused on moving quickly and quietly across the land to their destination. It would not give them away! It clutched the scarf in its mouth and followed them for several minutes, making sure they made it safe. 

At one point, Ingo said good-bye to Sneasler outside a cave entrance. That must be her den, Giratina realized. Then the man moved on, climbing up and up until he reached a beaten path that led to a small clearing with a manmade structure in it. This must be where Ingo stayed. The man took off his boots just outside the tent and entered. Giratina heard it fasten. 

It silently touched the ground outside the tent. It watched the structure for a moment. Movement was happening inside, but Giratina figured that Ingo was going to be sleeping soon. Humans were diurnal, right? 

No matter. It settled below a tree outside, still not visible to most eyes. It would keep watch and ensure nothing happened to the Warden during the night. The moon drifted through the sky, the stars circling overhead. A single Mismagius noticed Giratina and decided not to pick a fight, which was probably for the best. Otherwise, some Gligar and a Gabite wandered past, not close enough to the tent to be a threat. They seemed to know not to approach the man’s home. 

Giratina laid down properly, allowing its eyes to drift closed again. It was so peaceful here… 

—-------

“Oh, hello, passenger!” Giratina jolted awake at the sound of a loud voice, standing. “Ah, my apologies, I did not mean to scare you! I was just surprised to see you here. I would have thought you’d have returned to your home station.” Giratina blinked in the sunlight. It was still in the shade of a tree, thankfully, but its illusion had worn off at some point. It noticed the scarf under its large foot. It gently grabbed it in its mouth, moving to Ingo. It shook its large head, gesturing to itself with its head. It hoped he understood. 

“Did… the scarf fall off? Would you like assistance retying it?” Giratina nodded, lowering its head to allow the man to tie it back on. When he was done, it raised its head again and gave a soft, but joyful, call. Ingo chuckled. “You like the scarf, then? I am glad to see it. Would you like to accompany me today? I have some distance to travel and I would love the company until my Lady returns from her duties.” That sounded alright. Giratina nodded eagerly. It could have company today! 

It followed Ingo around, scaring away most wild Pokemon and helping him with his chosen tasks. In return, he talked to it about his duties as Warden, people he knew, and other topics he thought about. This had to be the best day Giratina had in a very long time, if ever. 

Had it ever had such a calm day before? It couldn’t think of any… 

It considered telling Ingo about itself again. It wouldn’t be that hard, really, to project its thoughts into the man’s head. He might even like to hear its thoughts, and he may not even be afraid. But once he heard what it was… 

It felt the soft fabric of the scarf around its neck and regarded the man before it. This was its first companion… ever. In history. It did not want to lose this, not just yet. It would tell him, it would! Just not yet. It wanted to understand what companionship was like. It was decided, then. As long as Ingo was alright with it, Giratina would stick around. 

—----------------------

It had been several days since Giratina had followed Ingo home. Ingo was always happy to see it, and always made sure to talk to it. Giratina protected him from wild Pokemon and met with Sneasler daily to discuss Ingo. 

Ingo seemed to have fallen from nowhere. He had no memories of his past life. That must be the odd, empty feel in the man’s soul that Giratina could sense. This made things… more complicated. Giratina could now recall where it had seen Ingo before. It had been some time ago, not long after Volo had first started to work his influence on it. It was one of the first rifts it tore in space-time. Something had flown by and struck Giratina in one of the rings on its neck, making it cry out and grab the object. It was a man. He was bleeding from the head. Giratina had immediately opened another portal with its newfound power and deposited him into it, laying him gently on the ground. It had hoped that the man was not permanently damaged by this incident. 

That man had been Ingo. He had lost his memories due to the accident, Giratina was sure of it. He was ripped from his home and deposited here, against his will, not remembering a single thing and now carrying a deep-set loneliness that could not be shaken, and it was Giratina’s fault. It felt some emotion that it had not felt in a very long time, and it was not by choice. 

Guilt. Giratina watched this kind-hearted human that helped Pokemon and other humans alike simply because he chose to and felt an immense, crushing guilt. It sometimes felt it would suffocate. He had done so much for it, and it still hadn’t even shared its name with him. Truthfully, it was terrified. It was going to lose its only trustworthy source of companionship the moment he found out anything about it, as it was basically the being that had ruined his life. 

“Diesel? Are your systems operational?” Giratina blinked, galloping forward to keep up with the man. As he had no idea what Giratina was or what to call it, Ingo had given it a nickname. It had never had one before. It did not know what the name meant, but Ingo had said that it was a dark fluid, some form of fuel? He did not seem to know, either. Giratina had not minded. In fact, it felt a mix of that awful guilt and a weird sense of pride every time it heard the name. It was willing to bet that Dialga and Palkia did not have cool nicknames! 

“Alright, passenger, today I am meeting with someone that I think would love to meet you. I know you are not the best around humans, but I can assure you that she is very kind. I have informed her that you do not wish to have your presence known to others.” Giratina nodded. That sounded alright. Perhaps it would be another companion? It hoped so. 

Ingo led them to a path along a rockface, indicating that they would be waiting there for some time. Giratina swiftly checked the area for threats, and once it was deemed safe, it lazed in the shade of a particularly large berry tree, allowing Ingo to lean against its body. Sneasler was with them, as well, sitting nearby. She was still nervous about just leaning on the god of all Distortion, but she had no qualms with Ingo doing so. Giratina was almost glad she did not lean on it. That meant it still garnered some respect amongst Pokemon. 

They sat for a good while, until a flute played on the horizon. Sneasler immediately stood and scampered off. She must have to ferry a human about the Highlands. Ingo hardly blinked, breathing deeply against Giratina as the pair relaxed in the shade. Ingo did not speak, but Giratina did not mind. It was just glad to have company. 

“Uncle Ingo!” Giratina perked its head up at the noise. It was the other human. Sneasler was approaching with the basket on her shoulders. She set it down, opening the lid and allowing a human girl to pop out. “Uncle Ingo, I can’t wait to show you what I caught!” The girl hopped out and froze, spying Giratina. She regarded it with wide eyes. 

Giratina felt its heart rate spike. It froze, its blood running cold. It was Arceus’s hero. The one that had defeated it in battle. Ingo hopped up off Giratina, excitedly asking the girl how she was doing and what she had to show him. Then he gestured back to Giratina, who was now standing and cowering in the shade. “Ah, Akari, this is the Pokemon I spoke to you of! I do not know what it is, so I have been calling it Diesel-”

“Uncle Ingo, get away!” the girl screamed, grabbing Ingo and hauling him away from Giratina. Ingo’s eyebrows furrowed as she threw out her Samurott. “Samurott, use-”

Before she could get the command out, Giratina roared. It was a cry of anguish and pain. It did not want this, but it could not allow itself to be used again. It could feel tears pricking at its eyes. It delved into its mind immediately, melting into the shadow of the tree and traveling up the darkness of the cliff face. It heard Ingo yelling after it as it rematerialized and changed form, much to its own surprise. It slipped into the other form seamlessly, its legs melting away and tendrils sprouting from its back as it climbed higher and higher into the sky, still screeching in despair. It was over. It was all over. She was going to tell Ingo everything. Its only companion - no, its only friend was gone for good. 

It roared again, now above the clouds, fearful and desperate. It tried opening a portal to the Distortion World again, a place it could be safe, a place that no one would disturb the god of chaos, but it would not happen. It was still stuck in this magnificent, beautiful, awful, accursed world. It knew what it needed to do. 

It zoomed along above the clouds, golden tears falling from its horrible red eyes as it beelined for a single destination, the one place that it knew it could feel almost at home again, alone. 

[Start] - [Next]

taglist: @ruyi-years

[radellama]

Magus, Harland and Flea (or any combination)

Ok so.. This is long. But I tried to limit myself. I have about a million and one songs for magland, but I stuck with 5 each. And 3 for Flea

---

Magus

Correct Me - Foreign Fields

This is actually a really old Magus song for me. Like, it's been a song I associated with him for years now. The general vibe and the lyrics here.. to me they really demonstrate the feeling Magus might have while he's standing on North Cape and witnessing the fall of his kingdom. Even after everything he did, everything he worked towards.. 'all these years, oh they're passing me by; I'll let gravity do what it does and correct me.' There's a certain devestation I think Magus FEELS, and I can imagine that in the depths of that agony, he could 'tear off his wings and learn how to dive.'

~

Even If It's a Lie (Demo) - Matt Maltese

So a lot of harland songs kinda relate to his pov of their relationship. This song feels like it could be describing some feelings Magus has regarding his pov. This is actually another older song, one I've associated with him since before harland came to be. Back in the day, I kinda imagined him to this song wondering if Schala would be happy to see him with the history he has- that he just wants her to say she loves him, even if it's a lie. Now with Harland, it's so easy to imagine the pain he feels after betraying his trust and abandoning harland, and upon his reflection on it all, he'll leave harland alone if he doesn't want to see him again- he just wants him to tell him that he loves him, even if it's a lie.

~

White Whale - Everything Everything

THIS SONG. AUGHHH THIS SONG. IMAGINE THAT IT AUDIO-LY DESCRIBES THE HEADSPACE OF THE PROPHET. THAT RUTHLESS DETERMINATION TO DO WHAT HE CAME HERE TO DO. THE BLURRING OF LINES AS HE WORKS TOWARDS HIS GOAL. HOW FAR HE'S WILLING TO GO TO DO WHAT IS NECESSARY. LOSING HIMSELF IN THE PAIN OF THE PAST WHILE COMPETING WITH THE PAIN OF THE PRESENT. THE FACT THAT NOTHING ELSE MATTERS NOW, HE'S SLOWLY LOSING HIS GRIP THE CLOSER HE GETS TO REACHING HIS GOAL, AND HE'S GETTING ANTSY IN ANTICIPATION WHILE DELICATELY BALANCING THE ACT OF THE PROPHET HE NEEDS TO UPHOLD IN ORDER TO REACH IT.

~

Afterlife - Nothing But Thieves

Just listen. Listen to the lyrics. You can hear it too, right? After all the lives Magus has had- each new persona he has to live in order to get by. The never ending cycle of lifetimes he's had to live. Every time he emerges from the cocoon, he's still a caterpillar and never a butterfly. Slowly losing who you are with each new iteration of self- if you even had a true self to begin with. The 'it was only ever you,' it could refer to anything and everything. It was only ever Schala. It was only ever Harland. It was only ever Lavos. It was only ever Janus/Magus/prophet/Magil/Guile/ect. (It was only ever Alfador....) IT FEELS LIKE A LIFETIME, OH GOD I DON'T THINK I COULD DO TWO!!!!!

~

Hurtin' - Jamiroquai

So ummmm this is a little more specific to RD Magil and some certain ideas and aus surrounding that era of his life (with major liberties of mine LMAO) and his relationship to schala and kid. He's been through it, he's older, he's getting sexier by the day and in so much mental distress he can't care about it the same way anymore. Plus, Kid is a ratbag, he can't afford to wallow in himself the same way anymore. If he can't save kid from the dangerous situations she puts herself in, who will!?

---

Harland

Governor of the North - Jo Wandrini

This song sounds like the kind of soundtrack to harlands life if I were making a movie/series about him. The kind of highland rural folk sound is exactly him... The nice flutey sounds are his audio motif in my mind, and his general theme is accompanied by a nice guitar/lute like string sound. I don't know much about music theory so I can't explain much more but this is how he SOUNDS thematically.

~

Before We Drift Away - Nothing But Thieves

The general vibe of this song - lyrics included - is SOOOOOOO magland. It's sounds so beautiful and feels like the specific kind of nostalgia that HURTS. I can feel certain scenes near the climax of harlands story where this song fits so fucking well... To not spoil tooooo much, imagine magland being comfortable in their relationship up till a certain point, and even though harland is still enjoying the established rythmn and familiarity he has with Magus, he is starting to sense that Magus is retreating into himself and that he's not able to be WITH him as often anymore. Missing the man while being next to him.. Just that preemptive feeling that something dreadful is about to happen, and you want to enjoy the time you have but becoming increasingly aware it won't last forever.

~

Let's Talk About Feelings - Joywave

OK SO. IT'S THE VIBES HERE. THE VIBES IN THE LYRICS THE VIBES IN THE GENERAL SOUND. It's about the act of reaching out, of being vulnerable and nervous about the reception, of being so open with another person. Especially the bridge.. I so desperately want to make an animatic with the lyrics in the bridge. It can be a conversation between the two of them, or their private thoughts about their relationship. Or both. Like;

H: I'm just afraid that you'll change me, Won't run away but I'll have to take it slow

M: Don't want to fall silent for long, Won't run away, I spook out easy though

~

Give a Little Love - Gizmo Varillas

THIS SONG IS JUST REALLY CUTE. SOUNDS VERY SIMILAR THE MAGLAND MOTIF I TALKED ABOUT EARLIER MIXED WITH THE LYRICS JUST GENERALLY ALIGNING WITH HOW HARLAND IS. GIVE A LITTLE LOVE, FEEL GOOD NOW!

~

I Saw You Close Your Eyes - Local Natives

I just really like this song, it's one I get addicted to listening to lol. But with the lyrics and general feel of this song... Imagine Harland knowing Magus well enough that he can kinda tell what he's thinking. Not the specifics, but he can tell the general feeling of his train of thought. Imagine him trying to support and understand Magus the best he can (even if I'm on your side) but he can still feel a massive rift (I saw the way you closed your eyes) because it's SO HARD for Magus to open up. There's aspects of him that Harland cannot get to know, despite how eager he is to try, and no matter how much Magus wants to reach out. There's a gap between them that's incredibly hard to close, and even if they can become incredibly close, there's always just that bit more out of grasp at the edge of your fingertips.

---

Flea

Up To No Good - The Hoosiers

I HAVE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL FUNNY AMAZING FLUIDLY ANIMATED MUSIC VIDEO IN MY HEAD FOR THIS SONG. It's honestly more of a magland song for me HOWEVER the animation in my mind is that the three generals, and particularly flea, are kinda singing the lyrics to harland as 'warnings;' going from teasing harland to try scare him off, then more playful banter over their relationship... Maybe even ending on a more bittersweet note yknow.. this song is just so fun and I can still clearly see fleas mannerisms in a music video like this LMAO

~

Let's Face It I'm Cute- 11 Acorn Lane

I mean. Listen. Do I have to explain? It's Fleas whole deal 😏

~

Let's Go Crazy - Prince

There's no particular reason. I just imagine that Flea would have this in his head while fighting lol.

[peachy-inserts]

𝕒𝕤𝕒𝕙𝕚 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 𝕡𝕥. 𝟚

part one  ♡  part two 

✉︎request:  hiiii, just read your 'Asahi Thoughts' and loved it so much, and would love it if you could do some more general headcanons on him :) ✰warnings: none, more fluff ✎a/n: im so in love with him please send help

➳ᴀꜱᴀʜɪ

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

✰ asahi

Asahi loves to have game nights together and you guys visit each others’ animal crossing islands!! He doesn’t play very often and he’s not very good but he makes custom designs all the time and will make the cutest dresses with you in mind and always has the hybrid flowers you need and lets u dig them up since he doesn’t have anything to do with them

Cannot handle watching horror movies but doesn’t want you to know that so when halloween rolls around and you flip on paranormal activity, he’s got his arm wrapped around your shoulder and is gripping your arm like a VICE and says he’s just feeling touch starved, sigh

Every time you try to catch a glimpse of his face he’s suddenly very interested in something across the room and claims he just heard something. He also leaves the room frequently, using things like laundry and snacks as an excuse, but when he turns the basement light off after putting the clothes in the dryer you swear you can hear him sprinting up the stairs and slamming the door

It’s even worse in haunted houses, you two never went back after an actor grabbed you by the shoulder making you scream, and his first instinct was to punch them. But hey! At least he wanted to protect you, right?

Great at making sweets and pastries like I said before but honestly he doesn’t have that big of a sweet tooth! He definitely prefers savory foods and although he can’t cook very well, it’s something he can manage (only a few of his dishes are worth mentioning, though). He only makes sweets if it’s something you enjoy 

He wants to live the cottagecore life but he’s scared shitless of most animals honestly, has a pinterest board full of highland cow pictures but would freeze up and panic if he saw one up close so he settles for the intercity work life and small house in a quiet suburban neighborhood. The domesticity of it makes him SWOON

Definitely is a very clingy boyfriend, you were definitely THAT couple in high school who had to be pulled apart a couple of times because he simply would not let go of you. Hugging him can be risky business because he can and will hold you against him and not let you go until he’s nearly fallen asleep leaning on top of your head

Speaking of which he literally gives god tier hugs like oh my god? Brb learning to shift just to hug him, he would take all of your troubles and worries away just with a simple touch. He’s strong, has big arms, a broad chest, and is ALWAYS warm and smells like. His clothes smell faintly of honey and his hair like lemon, and when he uses his chin to nuzzle against you, you can smell his mint aftershave. Overall, he smells like a nice tea

I would say that he’s a dog person, but he prefers to adopt older dogs and skip all the puppy years and the mischief that comes with them. He enjoys giving the older pups a nice home and a comfy bed to enjoy their senior years in peacefully, and they usually make great snuggle buddies too

Plus, hey, added security

A text me when you get there kind of person, and probably wouldn’t mind a Life360 group to be honest. Any time you’re driving somewhere, he keeps you in mind, especially when it’s raining. Always leaves a message saying ‘get there okay?’

WILL WRAP YOU UP IN HIS JACKET LIKE A LITTLE BABY AND ZIP IT UP FOR YOU AND GENTLY DRAPE HIS SWEATER OVER YOUR SHOULDER… WHEN YOU’RE HAVING MOVIE DATES AT HOME HE LIKES WHEN YOU TRY AND WEAR HIS HOODIE AT THE SAME TIME AS HIM, PRESSED FLUSH AGAINST HIM AND GIGGLING AS YOU TRY AND THRUST YOUR HANDS INTO THE SLEEVES ONLY TO GET STUCK

Has your drink and food orders memorized, probably writes down what you order every time you go somewhere new in his notes for future reference

[imnotwolverine]

Couch People

Henry Cavill x OC (you) drabble 

Word count: 2.907

Warnings: Alcohol consumption and pure and utter fluff. 

Author’s note: I had a DREAM (last night). And I decided to write about it in Henry’s POV, since that’s a cute lil’ twist on the usual meet-cute situation. 

--

My couch is my new favourite object. It wasn’t up to last night. Yesterday it probably was like..my kitchen aid, or my glute drive. But today? It’s definitely my couch. Not only because I’m still slightly hungover and the thing is darn comfortable. No. It’s something else.

Sighing, I sink further down into the soft pillows, that darn tartan red throw still lingering in the corner, smelling of you. Fuck. I’m having it bad, huh?

—

Should I lose the tie? Was it too formal? Hesitantly tugging at the silk I watch the last of the audience leave the London Studios, the infamous red couch now moved to the side so a cleaning crew can ready the stage for the next show. I’m glad it’s over and fans leave me be for a hot second, my mind quite elsewhere as of this moment.

Before me stand the people I recognise to be your friends. Men, all of them. Their voices low but merry as they bounce off the walls of the almost completely emptied out space.

‘Hi Henry.’ Your voice tinkles above the low hum of voices and quite instantly I feel my nerves back in my throat. Shit..Now what? What the hell was I even planning on…Damnit …

‘Hi.’ Is all I can manage back, the six men around you now also turning to offer me a warm welcome. And from the looks on their faces, they know full well why I am here. You, however, seems to be a bit clueless, your fingers reaching into one of your friends’ backpacks to fetch some lip balm.

‘Good show, hmm?’ You mumble, brushing the balm over your supple lips. Kissable lips.

‘Sure was.’ I agree. Come on Henry. You’ll have to do better than that! You don’t seem to care though, your attention drifting back to one of your friends, who raises an expecting eyebrow at you.

‘Oh, eh..Henry, you want to join us? We want to go out for some drinks..and some food maybe?’

‘FOOODD.’ One of the guys grabs his beer belly and makes a gesture like he’s been starved for weeks - which is obviously not true. I chuckle. They seem like good guys. And so very normal, which only makes me like you more.

‘I’d love to.’

‘Oh! And I still have to pee.’ One of the more lanky built men intervenes, to which the whole group blurts; ‘Pee-break!’

—

One pee-break and a short cab drive later,  I have brought you to one of my favourite pubs. Not only because it’s close to my home. Also, because I know the owner and with a blink of my blue eyes I can get us to use the room upstairs, which is usually reserved for exclusive events. Well. Tonight is an exclusive event, okay? The pub is old, mahogany and smelling of good times, the upstairs level reached through a very, VERY steep and very narrow step of stairs. With hands and feet we climb up, finding a low ceiling room, in equally dark and wooden hues. A lone rough table is set up, inviting us to take a seat before an old paned window that lets you look out over the drunken banter below.

In moments there is fish and chips by the bucket load and a few pitchers of beer, which your friends drink from greedily. And, of course, a glass of wine for you. You don’t like the bitter taste of beer. I make a mental note of that.

There’s nothing stuck up about you. You smile so easily, joke so merrily - and did I spot some nerdy references that escaped your lips? With every glass of wine there are more and it makes my whole body thrum with excitement.  Though perhaps that’s also just the beer talking.

Much too soon your friends have to leave to take their late flight back home. The fact that they had flown out here just to celebrate your success after years of hard work, just shows how good a bunch they are. And you are to them. With any other women with male friends, I’d easily pick on ulterior motives. But not with these guys. You go way back. You’re good. Golden. One of the guys. Though, dear god in heaven, am I happy you’re a woman.

Long bear hugs are exchanged between you and your friends as I stand there on the sidewalk, trying to evade the looks and attention of the drunken merry. The night is cold and winter is soon to come, the lot of us huddling in our winter coats as cars pass by, driving through deep puddles. With a last wave we send your friends off into a cab, back to their homes.

And then it’s just us.

‘So..’ You suck your lips in, eyes darting out to send a warning glance at some drunk brits that take a snapshot of us - it happens so often I barely even care about it still. I try to look as gentlemanly as ever, but the pints dance happily in my eyes. I know it from the way your gaze softens when you look back at me. ‘It was a good night.’ You say.

And I half disagree; ‘It IS a good night.’ As soon as I say it, I’m not sure if the drink is making me overly courageous, my arm hesitating to reach out and offer you something to hold onto. You chuckle.

‘You’re right. Especially since it’s not raining. GOOD HEAVENS.’ And with that you slip your hand around the crook of my arm without question. Like it’s the most natural thing to do, your cold fingers feeling like icicles through the wool of my coat. If only I could warm you up properly.

‘And you’re taking a long holiday? Any plans?’ I try to keep easy conversation flowing, referring to something you had mentioned during Graham’s show. I knew you were taking some time off after this movie was all wrapped up. I had been there, working on the same set, so I know how crazy it had been.

‘Yea...it’s been a crazy two years. Which is a long time not to have any holidays.’ You widen your eyes in exasperation as your feet elegantly move around a large puddle.

‘Tell me all about it.’ I sigh. Unfortunately for me, I’m soon to start on yet another production. Which means no holidays for me.

‘But ehm..I actually made zero plans. My whole life was planned out near minute to minute for the past years. I just need to ..get back to basics, you know? Sleep a full 8 hours. Walk. Cook. Take long baths. Maybe..go hiking in the highlands. Or..go to the Bahamas..I’ve never been to the Bahamas! Or…’

‘A right here.’ I interrupt you, sending us into the direction of a small alleyway.

‘Oohh..must I trust you now or is this where I find out you’re a serial killer, Mr. Cavill?’ You tease.

‘Mm..I’m too busy a man to spend my time planning out how to murder people.’

‘Very well Hannibal.’

‘Hahaha..good series.’ - There’s those nerdy references bubbling up again.

’Tis.’ You agree, sighing deeply as the darkness swallows us, leaving the crowded street behind until there’s nothing else but us and the tap of our feet on the cold wet cobble stone. You lean slightly closer to me and I’m glad you do.

‘So..’ You look up at me. ‘Are we mere wanderers or are we heading to mount doom to get rid of some pesky ring?’

I snort laugh. Yep. I definitely snorted. And you laugh merrily in turn. God, you’re cute.

‘I don’t know Sam, I don’t know.’

You grumble softly in playful dissatisfaction. ‘What if I want to be Frodo?’

‘If you so wish to be, fellow over-sized hobbit. Though I think, since you sound like such a well planned, yet easy going lady, you’re a Sam. BESIDES, you say you love to cook and work in the garden..that definitely makes you a Sam.’

‘True, true.’ You hum, the light at the other side of the alley coming closer, your feet suddenly starting to drag. Almost as if you don’t want to get back into the light, where drunk hustle and bustle is about. I stop and you look up at me, head tilting slightly upwards.

‘Say, Frodo. What does a woman do in this town when she doesn’t want to call it a night, yet?’

I pretend to think about it, though my mind knows full well where we could be going now. ‘Depends on what you want to do, Sam.’

‘As much as I’d like an adventure..so cold are my feet. Something indoors, perhaps?’

Exactly what I was planning.

‘I know just the place. Though…it’s..very private, okay?’

‘Are we going to find prancing ponies and kitten heeled Striders there?’ - With that you print this vision in my head of Aragorn in high heels, lurking on a pipe, and it makes me chuckle aloud. You are slightly cheeky too.

‘Mmm..more like large hounds and vast amounts of books, all crammed into a cute little..’

‘It’s your place isn’t it?’

I chuckle. ‘Yea..I live 5 minutes from here.’

‘Okay. But just in case you are considering a career change; please don’t eat me.’

I smile, nudging us to move ahead, our eyes squinting at the bright street light as we return to the land of the living drunk and the hum of stationary engines. As most pubs are closing for the night, everyone tries to grab a cab.

‘Well, looks like I wouldn’t have come home at this hour anyways haha.’ You mumble, our feet jumping over another puddle as we move to yet another alleyway.

We don’t have to take this route. But I like the lack of people. And having you squeezed up against my arm. So maybe it’s not a five minute walk entirely. You thankfully don’t seem to care.

‘You live in London?’

’Not really. Though for work I’m here half of the week. I stay at this cute hostel with THE MOST COMFORTABLE BEDS I have ever slept in. Like. Ugh. It’s fantastic.’

‘And your real home?’

‘Not such a good bed.’

We shouldn’t be talking about beds at this hour, but I suddenly can’t think of anything else to talk about.

‘Well, the best bed I’ve ever slept in is right at home.’

‘Mmm..are you suggesting anything there, Hannibal?’ Where you were clueless about my flirtations whilst we were sitting on Graham’s couch, the message seems to come across quite perfectly now, your eyes glittering with promise.

I act shocked, but we both know better. ‘Never!’ I say, to which we belt out in loud laughter, the sound echoing off the tall buildings at either side of us.

‘Gods, you are cheeky after a few pints hahah.’ You laugh.

‘And you are walking home with a complete stranger.’

‘Naa..I checked your Wikipedia page. So. Not complete stranger. I think it’s actually YOU who’s walking home with a stranger.’

‘Quite so.’

You’re right. We’ve worked together for 3 months on the same set, but I’ve only seen you from afar. In fact, you were kind of my boss. Which would’ve made any advances from my side even weirder. Tonight felt like the first real opportunity, now the project was finished. And here we were. In front of my house.

After a few awkward fumbles I manage to unlock the door, the two of us being welcomed by a sleepy Kal, his wet nose diving head-first into my face.

‘Down boy.’ I grumble, but thankfully you’re not afraid of my large hound, your fingers already racing through his thick fur before I have managed to close the door behind us.

‘Hi baby!! You are SO CUTE! JUST LOOK AT YOU!! And so tired too! You been sleeping, big boy?’

Kal loves you already. And I..?

‘A wine would be good.’ You look up at me as I just stand there staring at you. Shaking myself from my thoughts and awkward nerves, I put our coats away and try to find some decent bottle of red wine. I forgot to ask what kind you like, so I’ll just have to pick whatever. ‘Make yourself comfortable!’ I say aloud, but as I return with a bottle and two glasses I already see you’ve done just that, legs pulled up and that stupid tartan throw wrapped around your legs, Kal getting yet another head scratch from you.

Oh, he loves you a lot.

‘I hope cabernet is alright?’

You laugh and wave it away; ‘Henry. I had 5 glasses of wine. By this point you’d ALMOST get me drinking beer. Almost haha.’

In what seems like a blink of the eye this bottle is finished as well and the world is near spinning when I get up to make us a snack. Which of course is the worst idea ever at like 2..3..4 am? I can’t see quite straight enough anymore and the giddiness in my bones is showing in the most idiotic grins I’ve probably ever had on my cheeks. My face is going to hurt tomorrow. From laughing, that is.

As I haphazardly decide I should first ask what you want to eat, I suddenly find the long despised throw of my ex earning a much welcomed new, far sweeter memory. In the deep soft pillows of the couch, there you lie. Knocked out asleep, fingers still trailing through Kal’s fur, his head not daring to move as I look the pupper in the eye.

‘Well..’ 

I can’t send you home like this. And so, with a dangerous wobble in my inebriated knees, I tuck you in, the smooth wool warm as it moves beneath my fingertips.

For just a moment I wonder if I should put you in my bed, so I’ll sleep on the couch. But you’re laying so comfortably, that I’m afraid I’ll wake you..and then you’ll probably leave. I don’t want you to leave. Yes. I should have you stay. I..eh…

Blinking I look around the room, deciding how I should keep you to at least stay for breakfast. I don’t want this to be the last time I see you, you know? And so I grab for some paper and a pen, my handwriting not what it should be.

“Good morning, Sunshine. In case the drinks were too many; the dog’s name is Kal. Don’t worry about him. And I’m upstairs. Feel free to grab anything you like. Also. In exchange for a couch..how about we have breakfast, together? Henry.”

—

Waking up was like thinking everything was a dream. A very drunken dream. My head was screaming for water and sleep, but I couldn’t stop myself from racing downstairs first, only to find you were still asleep. Just where I left you. It was only after I started cracking up my cooking skills (cheesy eggs with toast), that you woke up. Large yawns were heard from the couch-area, before you groggily walked into the kitchen, hair in disarray and just perfect in my humble opinion.

‘Mmmoo- *yawn* -orning.’ You bring out, hands rubbing over your eyes.

‘Hi.’

You are so cute. 

And then you step in closer, eyeing my cooking, your scent and body so close, I wish we were at the point that I could grab you into a hug, delve my nose into your hair.

‘Sleep well?’ I ask with a crooked smile, your face nodding but your body saying: I need more sleep, for the love of the gods.

After breakfast you quirk up, that cute smirk back on your lips as you lick them in satisfaction.

‘That’s some fine cooking there Frodo.’

‘Thanks Sam.’

‘And a couch that makes a close second to the hostel’s bed.’

‘HAhaha..oh..yes. I was not sure what to do. Wake you up? Put you in my bed? I mean..a lot of..options.’ I trail off as your smile grows. 

‘..I’m so sorry for putting you in that position, Henry. And also, apologies for falling asleep as you were just about to make a snack. Its typical me; midnight snack-time? I fall asleep.’

‘Well, it’s your holidays. You can sleep all you want’

‘So it is.’ You fold your fingers around your hot cup of tea - no sugar, no milk. I make a mental note of that too.  

With curious eyes you watch me sit across you, the kitchen table suddenly feeling too large, too wide. I want to be closer to you. Snuggle up to you. You look so snuggable.

‘Any plans for today?’ You inquire lightly.

And that’s when it clicks. I could keep you around a little longer, maybe? De-hangover together, maybe?

‘Want to stay for a bit?’ I ask, hope sparking in the swallow of my nervous throat.

‘Sure.’

I think that’s what I like the most about you. It’s easy. Natural. No hassle. No hunt. Though I would have hunted you, if that is what it would have taken.

—

Now I’m sitting here on the couch and you’ve just gone back to your hostel. I mean, I get it. We’ve been together for nearly 24 hours. When we’re not even..like..more than strangers. For a moment I wondered if I should kiss you, after we walked Kal, our hands interlinked - which also felt so very normal.

The more glad I was when you did it for me.

You kissed me.

Those sweet chapped lips on mine. 

I sink further into the couch and sigh. I like you a lot my sweet Sam.

--

(Link to my Masterlist)

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly

[wildname]

Oh you created your own universe? Can you tell us more? 😲

Well I created Emmara, the setting, for a dnd campaign I was running a few years ago and have slowly been expanding upon it for a steady while now. I wanted to combine my enjoyment of history and fantasy a bit more than the other settings of dnd do and also give myself more liberty than using someone else's setting.

I'll give a brief overview of the nations involved on the continent and one or two big events that have been ongoing.

Endel: the largest nation and generally considered the beacon of western humanity. Endel is a nation that was founded on the ruins of much of the ancient elven city-states, yet has accepted many of the non-human groups in as their own. The current kingdom is divided amongst larger to smaller holdings, with large fiefs held by the four Knightlords. Religious belief is polytheism with a large pantheon focused around the sun goddess and the moon god, a minor faith included is the animalist Old Faith which is favored by druid sects and rural communities. Their cultural influence is a combination of Anglo-Saxon and Germanic, with a dash of Arthurian flavoring.

Iskartium: Considered the birthplace of western humanity, the collection of city-states is divided and diverse in their goals and powers, Libre boasting the most powerful army and housing mercenary companies such as the Legio Fortuna, while Argos maintains a powerful merchant fleet as the stepping stone from East and West, with the ugly reality of continuing the ancient practice of slavery. They follow the same pantheon as Endel but with minor deities and faiths sprinkled in locally. Culturally they evoke Mediterranean aspects combined with classical Roman and Macedonian aspects.

Ardenne: a nation born of zealous faith and conquest, the people of Ardenne feel themselves the inherent owners of the world through their faith, The Grand Order. The last elven rulers to fall marked the birth of the nation proper, and the martyrdom of the prophet Ardent sealed the surviving elves and halflings fate. Despite the high standards of living amongst both the aristocracy and the peasantry, the gleaming gem of the North is marred by their open mistreatment of non-humans and religious persecution of 'witches' and 'pagans'. Religiously, they are a deity-less philosophy that puts humanity at the top of the pecking order but maintains a high standard of morals. Culturally, they are influenced by early to late medieval France and the low countries.

Careth: while far disconnected from the prophet's homeland, the island nation of Careth was open to conversion due to a long history of invasion and attempted colonization by the Shal elves of the east. This was much of the status quo until an upstart cult disposed of the old monarchy and installed their own head of state. The cult of the Matron now offers the largest safe haven of Sullied (think Tieflings) in the world. Religiously they are a monotheistic theocracy, focusing worship on an enigmatic deity they simply refer to as the Matron. Culturally they are a mix of early medieval Iberian, southern French, and southern Italian and Sicilian.

Kayle: the spotty collections of chiefdoms and clans that make up the island have only been unified for a short time, well within the life of anyone alive. Ardennian troops have landed on its shores and have given the high king, Cullen Mac Cu, the footing he's needed to unite the human settlements and the fir bolg highlander clans under one banner, the first time in history. Religiously, Kayle is the only human (primarily) nation to still worship the animalist Old Faith as a state religion, with the fir bolg continuing to worship the greater fae folk pantheon. Culturally, Southern Kayle is inspired by early medieval Ireland while the fir bolg are inspired by early picts and later Scotland.

Strakof: the lands of Strakof are by all means, Ardennian, yet they remain under the rule of an ancient arch-duke; Strakof himself. While appearing human and ruling over human subjects, it took little in the way of deducing to find he was no living man. A vampire himself, Strakof filled his aristocracy with those he felt could be loyal servants of undeath. Vampires, liches, wights, and other manner of foul beings rule over a fearful serfdom, humans who have long since forgotten a time without the stench of death. Many neighboring kings and queens have attempted to cleanse the lands of necromantic taint, only to further add to his armies of undead, and only further his goal to conquer what he sees as his by right. Religiously, the higher classes worship the demon lord of undeath, Wrought, with the living serfs being denied any holy symbols, lest they rise up in divine fevor. Culturally, various eastern European areas are combined with a touch of Prussian and aristocratic French in the higher classes.

Drakar: The magistocracy of Drakar is the only nation of draconic creatures in the world. Once a lush archipelago in the western sea, the dragons chose to rip the islands from the waves and lord their arcane might in a suitably grandiose manner, creating a chain of floating islands where only winged creatures could travel. While they won't admit it, a secondary reason was to protect themselves from sea-borne raiders and jotunr incursions. A simple caste system delegates duties among the citizens of Drakar, with the ability to use magic allowing many to usurp their usual lot in society. An exception is non-draconic immigrants, respected if they can hone arcane craft but are never allowed full citizenship. Religiously, they are an atheist society that believes their creation is through the secrets of arcane magic, therefore religious temples are replaced with colleges of magic and philosophy. Culturally, they are a blend of various bronze age civilizations with a highly structured and disciplined social framework.

Elgannon: the central forests make up the last hold out of elven sovereignty in the west. A collection of outposts and settlements hidden amongst the lakes and glades of the forest where nature rules and the fae can step into the mortal realm. The elves of Elgannon were lucky to be bypassed by the Ardennian armies in the human invasions, luckier still to remain united in the civil war that engulfed their lands and drove their fel cousins into the underground, all while waging the eternal conflict against the beastial creatures that stalk the darkest reaches of the woods. To this day, the elves and halflings that make up the population guard their borders viciously, knowing the end of their culture if they don't. They maintain a strong tie to the Endelian kingdom to their south and stage raids into the Ardennian bread-basket to free elves and wound their northern neighbor. They are a matriarchal society, where elders hold council and divide tasks to their followers, high elves craft and study, while wood elves and halflings forage, hunt, and watch their hidden paths for foes. Religiously, they follow a pantheon focused around stars, heroic ancestors, and the belief in their transition into the Otherworld, the realm of their gods and faefolk. Culturally, they are inspired by Gaullic and other Celtic tribes of mainland Europe, with a tense balance needed to be maintained between the natural cycles of nature and the primal rage that lingers under the surface of creatures.

The Silverpeak: once the last true bastion of Dwarven might on the continent, the hold has fallen to the forces of the largest greenskin horde the world has ever seen. Some thirty years ago, war came to the dwarves of the Dragonhorn mountains, a half-orc by the name of Grom had marched his army into the pass. The dwarves did what they had always done, they shut the gates and prepared for siege. It took one year for the greatest of holds to fall, the horde of orcs and their kin came screaming up from the depths, having tunneled their way in from below and using their own mines against them. Now the two groups lay claim to the mountain stronghold, with many attempts by dwarven refugees made to retake their home, with no success. Endel has taken in the refugees however, knowing the value of dwarven arms and armor, and to bolster their forces should the mountains sound with wardrums once more. Religiously, dwarves follow a pantheon of God's who represent their daily life on the surface and below ground, with their chief deity lying asleep due to treachery. Culturally, dwarves are a mix of Nordic and Russian slavic cultures with a strong sense of honor and familial bonds.

Noram: the harsh cold of the far north have deterred many would be explorers from mapping the land, but the boreal forests, icy mountains, and windswept tundra are the home of the last true giants and their Goliath followers. Hailed for their skill as craftsmen, the Jotunr spend the long winter hold up in their settlements, creating their weapons of war for the summer raiding season. Massive longships and village sized greatships carve their way through the waves and into the shores of the fertile mainland. Recently, Goliath warbands have made permanent residence on various shores of the western half of the continent, much to the dismay and distrust of their mainland neighbors. Religiously, the Goliath follow a pantheon similar to their dwarven cousins, but venerate mountains themselves as ancient gods. Culturally, they are inspired by viking adventurers and giants resemble their real world counterparts.

There's more I could add to this with various sub-factions and races or with the magic system at play in the setting but this is already a super long post and took me a good bit of time to get this far so this'll do for now.

[dirtylittlesinkrat]

newsies as conversations that i’ve had with my friends

(it’s mostly race & al because...we are them and i need you to understand that)

Al: my tiny microphone arrived

Race: Yay!

Al:  Do you wanna know why i got the tiny microphone? Because  i have to do a monologue of my choice for acting and theater and i chose one where a guy is giving a speech at his wedding and so I got the tiny microphone. For reference it is the size of my pinky.

---

Al: I’m very tired today. I want coffee but I’m lactose intolerant and ate cereal already. If I have coffee, I will die. :))

Davey: Simple solution: do not have coffee.

Al: *drinks coffee*

---

Al: *sends picture of cat*

Race: The chonky boi is so sad. i want to hold the fat lil babey

---

Jack: *makes “special salsa”*

Al: What’s special about it. What did he put in it?

Race: ✨love✨

---

Al: I’m in class and I was like wiggling in my seat and I just quietly to myself said, "it's ass shaking time" like that something a perfectly sane and normal person would say

---

Race: I haven’t been doing work for this class, so I sent this email, right?

Davey: ...yes...go on..

Race: Do you wanna know what it said?

Davey: ...

Race: “Sorry to send this to you so late but I'm going to be emailing you my  essay because I was having a weeklong mental break down? I really don't know how to describe it, but my brain wasn't working, and my mental health was absolute garbage. I know this will affect my grade, but I thought I'd let you know first.”

Race, a few minutes later: I JUST REALIZED I SENT THAT EMAIL AT LIKE 1 AM OH MY GOD

---

Race: You inspire me

Al: I’m your muse

Race: Yes

---

Al: The baby highlander cow offers so much serotonin

Race: *nodding sagely* Yes

---

Race, talking about Bolin from LoK: this man would court me like a true gentleman and would take me to dinner before knocking me into next week with those muscles

Al: It’s one in the morning please sleep

---

Al: Why are you covered in coffee?

Race: I had a mouth full of coffee and I leaned back and my brain was like "gargle" and I impulsively did so and now I’m covered in coffee

---

Race: Literally what is wrong with me

Al: I dunno but I’ve found that naps solve many problems

---

Race: wow this bath bomb smells amazing wonder how it tastes

---

Race: I know what you should spend your money on: kazoos.

Al: No.

Race: Some kazoos are like 2 bucks. You could buy 44 kazoos!

Al: No.

Race: Do it

Al: No

Race: Please

Al: No

Race: Do it for the vine

---

Race: My head hurts, do you think that watching the Bee Movie will help?

Davey: I think taking a nap or drinking water might help

Race: Ew

Davey: If you keep the brightness down, you can watch the bee movie. 

Race: Thanks, doc!

---

Race: I kin Sonic the hedgehog

Al: Which one

Race: Sonic Boom

Al: okay good. all im gonna say is i kin WILL FUCKING GRAHAM

Race: Ain’t he the gay one?

---

Race: when i get home i am devouring ritz crackers and there is NOTHING you can do to stop me

[let-the-dream-begin]

A Place to Belong: Chapter 10 Little Miracle

Chapter 9

Read on AO3

The warmth of June brought with it the promise of new life. A new life for Claire as she settled into an existence without Jamie, and quite literally a whole new life waiting to burst out of her.

She was sitting in front of the mirror, pinning her hair up for the third time that morning, her stubborn curls refusing to cooperate as always. She had just about gotten it now; one more pin and she could finally be done with it. Then, suddenly, a familiar fluttering sensation made itself known in her stomach. She gasped, immediately releasing her grip on her hair and resting her hands on her abdomen. Her fragile updo unraveled, pins clattering to the floor.

She exhaled shakily, closing her eyes to revel in the feeling. It lasted a couple of seconds, then stopped for a brief moment, then lasted a few more seconds, and then it was over. Claire kept her hands on her stomach for a moment, realizing for the first time that it was, indeed, a small bump; no longer was her baby flat and intangible.

“You’re real,” she whispered reverently, opening her eyes to look down at him, caressing the small mound.

She decided to not bother with a full updo today, instead pinning back the front pieces. In somewhat of a daze, she dressed herself and floated down the hallway, down the stairs, and into the dining room.

“Morning, Auntie!” Wee Jamie blurted.

“Jamie, quiet yer voice,” Jenny said. “Yer Auntie is right there, she can hear ye just fine.”

Claire chuckled. “Good morning everyone.���

“Well, aren’t you all aglow this morning,” Jenny said. “What’s the occasion?”

Claire sat down next to her, unable to stop herself from beaming. “I felt him.” She pressed her hands into her stomach.

“Oh, did ye?” Jenny broke into a grin. “Is he moving now?” Jenny put her hands atop Claire’s.

“No, not at the moment. He interrupted me while I was doing my hair.”

“Ah, already a trouble maker, then,” Jenny teased. She gazed at Claire lovingly. “Being wi’ child suits you, Claire. You really are glowing.”

“I’m just…so relieved.” Claire quickly wiped her eyes before the tears could trickle down. “Obviously I know it takes time before you really feel anything, but I spend so much time imagining the worst, so to feel him…alive. It’s…indescribable.”

Jenny’s smile widened even farther, if it was possible. Mrs. Crook entered with breakfast just then. Maggie was now insisting on no longer eating in her mother’s lap. She was sitting next to her, though, and still needed assistance in breaking food into small enough pieces so that she didn’t choke on it. For this meal, however, she was perfectly capable of spooning her own parritch into her own mouth, though not without leaving slop for Jenny to wipe up from the table. She also wasn’t really sitting; instead she was all the way up on her knees in order to reach anything.

And then, again, even as Claire reveled in the togetherness of her family, in the comfort and joy of feeling her baby inside of her, she still found herself glancing across the table, expecting to find those deep blue eyes, mad with joy for the confirmation of their baby’s life. She swore at certain moments she could really see that mop of red, flashing in an instant as he reached over to help his nephew.

It was strange. She was not any less happy than she had been. It wasn’t as if thoughts of Jamie had tainted the morning’s joy. Rather, it was as if those thoughts reminded her of something that was missing. Like suddenly remembering she was only wearing one sock. How could she not have realized that something was missing?

“You know,” Claire said abruptly, not even aware herself that she’d said it until she heard it reverberate back into her own ears. “In Paris, when we were falling asleep, Jamie would stay awake for hours just…rubbing my pregnant belly. Or maybe he wasn’t even awake, maybe he was doing it in his sleep.” She looked up from her food at Jenny, smiling. “He was in awe of it all. It was…I loved seeing him like that. Like a little boy.”

Jenny smiled. “He loved all my bairns like they were his own. It must have made him mad wi’ joy to see ye carrying one of his own.”

“He really did love children,” Claire said, finally feeling a twinge of sadness. “He wanted so badly to be a father.” Jenny nodded. “He loved her so much, even when she was this tiny. He even used to…talk to her.” Claire could not help but smile at the memory.

“And he’s talking to this one, too,” Jenny said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “They say that wee ones can hear spirits, angels. Especially when they’re still inside ye. And I’ll bet he talks his wee ear off.”

Claire laughed at that. “Yes, I’ll bet he does.”

Jenny gave her shoulder a squeeze, then returned to her parritch. “It does my heart good to hear ye speak of him, Claire.”

Claire paused her spoonful. She realized then that this was perhaps the first time she’d spoken of him. Talk of Jamie for the past several months had been in reference to his corpse, his lifeless body. But that was not him. His love for his nieces and nephew, his adoration of his wife and children, that was him.

Claire smiled at Jenny. “Me too.”

Breakfast finished and Ian took Fergus to the fields. Ian was finally walking somewhat normally, Claire having checked on the bullet wound recently and deemed that it was healing just fine.

“Claire,” Jenny said as they helped Mrs. Crook gather the dishes. “I have something for ye.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed at her questioningly.

“Come on upstairs wi’ me.”

They handed the dishes off to Mrs. Crook, and Jenny pulled Claire up the stairs and into the Laird’s room. A flood of memories came crashing into her as she took in the room. Nothing had changed in here since she’d been here with Jamie, when he was Laird, and she was his Lady, and they’d held each other in that very windowsill, conceived Faith in that very bed. Nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed.

Jenny sat Claire down at the foot of the bed and then went to the wardrobe to fish something out of the back. Grinning, Jenny sat down next to Claire and presented her with a small bundle wrapped in white linen.

“For the bairn,” Jenny said proudly.

Claire took it in her hands and unwrapped the cloth, revealing a knitted white lamb, with stitching for a mouth and nose, and little black buttons for eyes. “Oh, Jenny,” Claire said. “It’s beautiful.” She turned it over in her hands to look more closely, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the bow around its little neck.

“Is that…”

“Aye,” Jenny said. “From Jamie’s tartan.”

Claire reverently ran her fingers over the bow, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Figured the bairn ought to carry his father wi’ him somehow. No’ to mention I couldna bear to bury the only Fraser tartan we have left. Had to keep a piece of it for us, ken.”

“I…” Claire finally looked back up at Jenny. “I’m moved…beyond words, Jenny…”

“Then come here.” Jenny pulled her into a tight embrace. “The bairn will know him. I’ll make certain of it.”

Claire sniffled. “I will, too.”

“And he’ll know himself, as well. We’ll no’ let him forget he’s a Highlander. I’ll teach him Gaelic in the priest hole if I have to.”

Claire chuckled, and it morphed into a sigh. “I’m counting on that.” She released Jenny from their embrace, but they still held onto each other. “I’m afraid I’ll be rather useless on that front.”

“What’s an Auntie for, hm?” Jenny said, smiling despite the fresh tears still lingering on her cheeks.

Claire looked down at the little lamb in her hands. “You know, Lamb was my uncle’s name, the uncle that raised me.”

“Lamb?”

“Well, Lambert. I called him Uncle Lamb,” Claire explained, then exhaled, laughing. “If he could see me now…”

“He’d be proud,” Jenny assured her, obviously missing Claire’s meaning.

“He would,” Claire agreed, knowing that Uncle Lamb was watching her adapt and thrive in the strange world she’d fallen into using everything he’d taught her. 

What would he think of Jamie, she wondered? He’d thought very highly of Frank, being that he was a professor as well. He’d likely be incredibly fascinated by Jamie for what he represented, the perfect example of the extinct Highland Warrior. He’d be astounded when comparing her ruggedly handsome, enormous, wild Scotsman to the slender, intellectual history professor.

Frank…there was someone she hadn’t thought about in a while. She’d thought of him abstractly of course, of saving his existence from being wiped away, but she hadn’t really thought about him since Jamie had given her the choice between Frank and his time, or Jamie and his.

What must he think? Did he assume she was dead, or with another man? Was he able to move on, find happiness with someone else as she had, short lived as it had been? She could have had those answers if she’d kept her promise to Jamie. But, God…how would she have explained this? How could she have told him she was carrying another man’s child, a man who’d been dead for two hundred years? How could she ever move on knowing that Fergus, Jenny, Kitty, Maggie, wee Jamie, Ian, all of them, were dead and gone for two hundred years?

She prayed that Frank was happy and loved. Because even though the happiness and love she’d found with Jamie was gone, she’d found new purpose as a mother, sister and aunt. Despite her sorrow, she was still fulfilled, and in some fleeting moments, even happy. And to think of him suffering, completely in the dark about everything, while she existed with some semblance of happiness, made her feel deep pangs of guilt.

“What’re ye thinking about, sister?” Jenny’s voice brought her out of her reverie.

“My first husband, actually,” Claire admitted.

“Lived with him in Oxfordshire?”

“Yes.”

“Do ye miss England?”

“From time to time,” Claire admitted, though England had never really been “home,” per se. More what she missed from time to time was the life she’d had to leave behind in a different century. “But I wouldn't trade this, the life I’ve made with Jamie, all of you, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Not even to be safe and well fed in England?” Jenny cocked an eyebrow.

“No. Not even for that.”

And it was true. She’d had more than one chance to leave behind the suffering in this time, in Scotland itself, and given the same options over and over again, she’d still make all the same choices.

Claire smiled down at the lamb again. “Now what do I do with this little one before my own little one arrives?”

“Once Kitty adjusts to sleeping in a bed ye can keep it in the cot, ready to sleep beside yer wee one,” Jenny said. “But we’ll be lucky if that one ever decides to leave the cot.” She rolled her eyes. “Ye ken how she is.”

“Have you tried putting strawberry jam in her bed?” Claire said, hardly able to finish the sentence before succumbing to laughter.

Jenny guffawed. “Now there’s an idea!” Then she sighed. “It won’t be long before there isna even any strawberry jam left. The crop isna doing well, ye ken. We don’t grow any here, but Ian says word in the village is that there willna be any berries at all this year. They’re saying the same in Edinburgh.”

Claire nodded sadly. “The famine is coming.”

“Aye…”

“We’ll be alright. So will all the tenants. The potatoes will save them,” Claire assured her.

“Aye. But what’ll I do about Kitty?” She rolled her eyes again.

“You’ll have to wean her off the jam like you’d wean a child off your breast,” Claire laughed as she said it.

“She’ll be the death of me, I ken it.”

“I pray mine isn’t as stubborn.” Claire placed a hand on her small mound again, smiling to herself. “Though I have to admit, I’d be a little disappointed if he wasn’t.”

Jenny chuckled. At that moment, he moved again, fluttering inside Claire’s womb. Claire gasped, and Jenny immediately touched her stomach.

“Can you feel it?” Claire whispered, as if it may stop if she spoke too loudly.

“Just barely, but it’s there.” Jenny looked up at Claire’s face, joyful. “There he is, Claire.”

“Indeed.” Claire smiled. As quickly as it began, it stopped. “Jenny?”

“What is it, sister?”

“Is it…wrong of me to feel…happy?”

“Wrong? Why the Devil would that be wrong?”

“I mean, I’m not always happy. In fact I’m usually empty, hollow…but sometimes, like when I can feel my baby…I’m overwhelmed with joy.”

“As ye should be,” Jenny said firmly. “It’s what Jamie would want ye to feel. Ye ken that.”

“I suppose…it’s just strange. I thought I’d never be happy again.”

“Yer a braw lass, Claire. Yer spirit is strong. My brother knew it and I know it.” Jenny stood, taking Claire’s hand and helping her up. “Come on, now, let’s find a home for wee Lambert,” Jenny said, a teasing grin on her face. Claire chuckled, allowing Jenny to pull her into her bedroom, where they decided they’d keep Lambert on the mantle for now.

Hope you don’t mind, Uncle. A stuffed animal for your namesake rather than my son.

Claire brushed her fingers over his tartan bow, winking at his button eyes. As long as the toy was loved by her child, she didn’t think he’d mind at all.