#one day I'll use that gold foil

[swampybogg]

[asklesbianonceler]

Metyr, The Gloam-Eyed Queen, and The Nox

Lore, item, and speculation analysis. Looking at coincidences and theories a bit closer below the cut.

This is a little more disjointed than my last analysis.

@dykeishheart Replied to your post: I would be curious to know if you think anything in particular about the finger ruins of Rhia and Dheo being shaped just like the godslayer incantation insignia. I haven't seen any people mention it before but I was almost wondering if it's a false thread, like maybe it isn't meant to look like that intentionally bc nothing in Ymir/Metyr quest uses or mentions black flame or the gloam-eyed queen. Unless we interpret Metyr's pink gazing eye as 'gloam' (twilight)

I got this reply and said "yeah, I'll finally get into this!" So thank you!!

I've mentioned vaguely having thoughts on The GEQ/Metyr connections as well as Metyr's connection to the Nox but never got into any of it concretely. I know this specific reply isn't saying Metyr and the GEQ are connected beyond this but I've seen it A LOT and I've wanted to talk about it so it's a good excuse!

You can scroll down to my "Actual Interpretation" header if you want to skip over other's theories and a brief GEQ summary

I want to start by giving an overview on the points I've seen floating around that bring up visual similarities between Metyr and the GEQ so we have a basis for this.

The pattern on Metyr's face, the fingerprint, is similar to both the shape of the godslayer incantations as well as, as user dykeishheart pointed out, the above ground finger ruins

Metyr's tail fingers are in a twist, similar to the helix on the godslayer greatsword.

The godslayer greatsword has a swirling, fingerprint-like pattern on the beginning of the blade before it breaks into a twist

The dominula cape has similar patterns to the incantation as well as the finger sorcery symbols

Jolan and Anna's armor of night, has another similar fingerprint/godslayer-like symbol on the front

My hesitancy with addressing this in detail is that I don't want people to think I'm telling them they're wrong or coming off as argumentative. This is simply my take on the theory. But we're no strangers to characters being associated with the GEQ

So without further adieu, with the points I'll be contesting laid out, here are my thoughts on why Metyr is not connected to the GEQ.

GEQ basics:

We know the GEQ had her own two fingers, was an Empyrean, and was a direct timeline competition to Marika. It seems that, to the Greater Will, they were both potential candidates vying for Elden Lord, each trying to unite the lands between, and possibly the land of shadow, to the GWs plan. It is unclear if at this time the fingers were already unsound and giving baseless messages. I personally do not believe so as these were likely the first sets of two fingers to be bestowed upon Empyreans and still in their early history. It would also make sense that the GW would want false or unfit gods killed off before it's new plan is enacted.

The GEQ controlled destined death, a key aspect of the Elden Ring and one that would be incredibly dangerous for Marika who sought godhood. Thus she and Malekith went to war against her and her Godskins

She raised her godksin from birth, turning the dead flesh of unnamed, and unimportant gods into her children- via the godskin swaddling cloth, also directly connecting her to motherhood.

The meaning of Gloam is roughly synonymous with evening, dusk, twilight, and crepuscule, a time of day characterized by sunset- a blueish to orange/sometimes purple sky. We could also interpret this as "coming to an end" the setting of the sun, the absence of light, or gold. (making her a direct foil to Marika)

Her and her apostles are associated with Black, obsidian, and a deep purple gemstone

My first question about this theory is, what is the theory specifically? That Metyr IS the GEQ or that the GEQ was a follower/champion of Metyr/sanctioned by Metyr?

ON TO

MY ACTUAL INTERPRETATIONS:

My initial thought on the godslayer seal/symbol was always that of inverted fire. A fire devoid of warmth or life, the opposite of those wielded by others in Elden Ring. This is still my interpretation. The Stone set in the middle of the seal, to me, also do not seem intentional enough for me to connect it to Metyr. Had it been anything but black I would be more inclined to give this more weight. Metyr's eye is red/orangeish, bearing an odd crossed separation down its iris. I believe there are too many similar swirling, round patterns in other incantations for this to seem concretely intentional. The Frenzy Flame, Dragon communion, and others all have a swirling in the center. The other thing setting this symbol apart from a fingerprint is the symbols between each ring.

As far as the finger ruins shape, to me they almost feel like sites of large meteor crashes, further suggested by the falling star beast. And Metyr herself is a falling star. Their shape to me feels like a trail of something hitting the ground and settling. I believe it says the lampreys aren't from the land of shadow as well but I could be wrong. They feel very alien and touched by outer presence. I think their fingerprint line shape also feels like the ripples of something crashing there.

Metyr is also a shockingly developed god in comparison to the Elden Beast, so much so that I cannot see her being or sanctioning The GEQ. As I got into in my Ymir Analysis post, Metyr is given strong characterization and emotion. She is loyal and subservient to the GW to the end. Even when she is abandoned she remains true to the purpose it gave her, grieving her corrupt children, waiting, alone, and growing resentful- but only to the point of physical violence via her thrashing and wielding of her head as a weapon. Her built up anger, as her remembrance weapon states, manifests in crushing blows of her head as a weapon. Her utmost rage is literally her beating her head against the ground in frustration, to the detriment of those around her and likely herself. She is described as a kowtower to the GW and seemingly deals with far too much of her own grief, self doubt, and obligation to come up with her own agenda or enact another agenda herself/take any matters into her own hands to the extent of the GEQ. We have also seen the result of her direct connection with others via Ymir and seeing as this is the first/only time we see finger sorcery learned from her it's unlikely anyone else ever made contact to this extent. Her connection to the GEQ is that she birthed the fingers that told the GEQ what to do.

Perhaps, as many others, the GEQ was enamored by the teachings of her two fingers and took inspiration from its form. This wouldn't be uncommon. We see fingerprints in Frenzy flame items, Nox items, and the fingerprint shield- which is an item I would like to get into a lot more in a moment. But to connect her that closely to Metyr feels incredibly out of character for Metyr. Metyr is also largely connected to int builds and sorcery. Never Faith. Even the High Priest Hat boosts both Int and Arcane, not touching upon Faith. I also believe the lack of godskins in the land of shadow is incredibly telling. If the GEQ had connections to Metyr there would surely be something mentioning her blackflame or godskins in the DLC

Both are also associated with motherhood, but to the point that i think it's the opposite of something that connects them narratively. The GEQ has such a specific and unique way of creating her children/warriors, far too different from Metyr's

As far as the connection to her tail fingers goes, there are also countless other connections to helixes being associated with the divine, a main one being the hornsent. Her sword also doesn't have the classic spinal look down the center of the blade that both the Sacred relic sword and fingerslayer blade do.

In terms of connecting dominula to the godskin, that is entirely possible, but this just comes back to my feelings on the godslayer symbol. Connecting anything at all to the finger sorcery symbol would be baseless. This design takes far too much inspiration from the Carian and Raya Lucarian sigils to not be something Ymir created for his own sorceries, thus unique to the land of shadow and his studying of Metyr.

Metyr also seems far too connected to the stars for me to associate her with someone who's name means dusk- a time of day characterized by sunlight still being in the sky albeit fading. You really can't see stars during this time and certainly not enough for them to seem bright. She is far more associated with pure night than evening. Great segway.

The Nox and the Fingerprints and a Slayed God

Like I wanted GEQ lore in the dlc. I wanted to know more about her. But I truly think she's dead :(

I think sometimes we're just looking for GEQs so much that maybe we're overlooking some smaller revelations from the Metyr quest.

Specifically in regards to the Nox's reason for banishment and the fingerslayer blade.

Jolan and Anna are nox swordhands of Night. Their armor describes the swordhands as being born deep underground and their armor bears the fingerprint marking- actually described as a fingerprint in the description this time. But they don't wear this armor because they are in Metyr/Ymir's service. They arrived at the land of shadow wearing this armor that is designed to keep them in the dark and there were more than just two of them. We find the armor on a corpse in a body bag in bonny gaol, next to multiple other bodybags. But we can say for sure there were at least three swordhands here. And they must have had a purpose here for them to be the only Nox in the lands of shadow.

And this got me thinking. What other items specifically reference fingerprints and at first it just seems like frenzy items which seemed like a dead end. But there's one specific item that although related to frenzy, references a time before that- The fingerprint stone shield which is "part of the tomb of an ancient god---- the very seeds from which frenzy first started" So similar to Godwyn's death, a death created an unforeseen consequence, but who was this god? Who killed him? Well, aside from the GEQ, there is one other group of people known for knowing how to kill gods. The Nox. And they had a reason to do so. The Fingerslayer blade is born of a corpse and bears a similar helix and spinal design to the sacred relic sword, implying it is from the body of a god. The sword of a vassal/god that is capable of killing another. Perhaps this was the god the Nox killed in order to create the blade. Perhaps they did not kill this god themselves and merely robbed it's grave and defiled the body by rending the fingerslayer blade from it. The recurring fingerprint motif on the armor of the swordhands and on the tomb is an interesting connection. Regardless, the Nox did not want to be governed by the GW's influence, instead they followed the stars. They were the original GW haters and they wanted to kill one of its vassals and harm the GW. Which vassal did they intend to kill? Ranni uses it on her two fingers but perhaps it was made for Metyr, the source of the GW's messages that they hated so much. They were never able to use it. It's creation led them to be banished and stripped of the stars at the hands of the GW. Swordstress armor states, " Now they live under a false night sky, in eternal anticipation of their liege. Of the coming age of the stars. And their lord of night"

This would make sense as to why the swordhands are in the land of shadow. They were looking for Metyr. And it would also give us some food for thought on Jolan and Anna, Anna perhaps being the one who still believed in their original purpose and Jolan, having disagreed with her. Jolan instead believing she has found what the Nox were awaiting, the return of their stars and their lord of night. Her infatuation with stars, saying Ymir is her shining star, and doing as he asks without question, knowing he sees fate in the stars, heavily implies this is what she believes. Perhaps she too seeks redemption for what she's done as a swordhands, her weak heart leading her to forsake her original goal and seeking her fate in Ymir's stars.

Time to yap, because I understand I'm probably wrong about the ancient god connection bit:

Yapping: This ancient god to Nox connection is just theorizing. We could even theorize that the ancient god mentioned in the fingerprint shield is the GEQs grave and that maybe the Nox didn't kill this god and merely looted the grave, but the timeline on that might be odd. I can't say for sure. Further we can ask who's fingers were the three fingers, this ancient god's? GEQs? Or are they even fingers? Are they merely an apparition of something we will accept messages from? If Marika put the nomadic merchants in that hole in the ground it would also imply she put the tomb down there that held a dead god. A god she killed maybe? Really seems like that's where she puts shit she wants to forget about... The shunning grounds and all that.

Misc images that may be relevant!

[greenbloods]

(ok this is going to be somewhat of an unstructured post because i am just Thinking this through and laying my thoughts out, maybe i'll format it into a proper essay later)

I've seen a few posts talking about the narrative foils that the North and Dorne--ice and fire--play in the narrative, but recently I've come to notice another such foil. In the books, there seems to be this strange attraction in the narrative between the Iron Islands and the Stormlands, specifically between Stannis and the Greyjoys. It's been gnawing at the back of my head for a while, so I wanted to explore it and see what it might mean.

Similarities:

Colors: Black on gold (Baratheon), gold on black (Greyjoy)

Castles: Both Pyke and Storm's End exist on some level to spite the gods, battered as they are by sea and stone and sky. The danger inherent to the castles' design is significant to their design, with Balon falling into the sea at Pyke (probably pushed, but still) and Steffon and Cassana Baratheon were dashed at sea while approaching Storm's End

The Iron Islands worship the Drowned God, and loathe the Storm God as their enemy; Durran Godsgrief, the mythical founder of House Durrandon from whose line House Baratheon lays claim to the Stormlands, was the first of the Storm Kings and married the daugher of the sea god, and build Storm's End

But that's not all, because it's not just that the Greyjoys and Baratheons are paralleled, but Stannis specifically seems to be intimately involved thematically and plot-wise with the past and future of House Greyjoy.

As mentioned earlier, Stannis's parents are drowned at sea, which is one of the reasons why he stopped believing in the Seven, and allowed him to take to R'hllor later (see his Red Hawk speech)

During the Greyjoy Rebellion, Stannis was the one entrusted with the navy, and was able to soundly defeat Victarion (!!) and Euron (!!!) at sea (!!!!!) off Fair Isle

Patchface, Stannis's jester, was drowned at sea and reborn, and is theorized by many to be a champion/prophet for the Drowned God, which is one reason why he is feared by Melisandre

Stannis's storyline in ADWD intersects with Asha and Theon, having captured them both, and this seems like it will shape up to be an important part of the plot in Winds

Euron, as discussed above, was defeated by Stannis, the only person we know to have done so

The only important Greyjoy whose life does not entangle with Stannis is Aeron Damphair, who others have pointed out is a parallel to Stannis's priestess Melisandre, as both being POV characters who are the champions of their respective monotheistic faiths and use their fervent belief in their worldview as a shield to guard against their deeply scarred pasts ("Even a priest may doubt. Even a prophet may know terror. Aeron Damphair reached within himself for his god and discovered only silence. As a thousand voices shouted out his brother's name, all he could hear was the scream of a rusted iron hinge." vs "One day, Melisandre prayed, she would not sleep at all. One day she would be free of dreams. Melony, she thought. Lot Seven.")

STANNIS is initially skeptical of the FIRE PRIESTESS Melisandre but takes her in as she demonstrates her POWER and prophetic visions to Stannis; VICTARION is initially skeptical of the FIRE PRIEST Moqorro but takes him in as he demonstrates his POWER and prophetic visions to Victarion

what does it all mean? do these parallels between stannis and the greyjoys tell us anything about their themes, or what their arcs might be in TWOW/ADOS?

idk man this is all i got so far what do yall think

also this post was partially inspired by a post i read a while back which ive attached below so give it a read too:

[themculibrary]

BAMF!Pepper Potts Masterlist

All Is Fair In Love And War (ao3) - Winterturtle pepper/tony T, 8k

Summary: Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. An engaged couple running one of the biggest companies in the world, living a normal life. Well, as normal as it can get. Both honest in their relationship except for one small detail - their secret identities as top assassins.

No questions asked. They's how they operate.

When they find each other as their next target, their quest to kill each other gets interrupted by Peter arriving for the weekend. Neither Tony nor Pepper let that stop them; they just take a more subtle approach to leave Peter out of it.

The problem? Peter thinks there's someone after both of them and keeps foiling their attempts.

~~~

Two assassins. One vigilante. Three secret identities meet.

A Long and Winding Road (ao3) - LadyDeBrief pepper/tony M, 4k

Summary: It was, much like he'd told Bruce, a terrible privilege, this power Pepper had over him. That she was aware of that and gave it the due seriousness was one of the reasons he so easily trusted her with it.

Be careful what you wish for, you may just get it (ao3) - Savana_Marlark pepper/tony T, 169k (WIP)

Summary: A snap.

A gauntlet.

A dying man's regret.

It is a dangerous thing to wish with infinity stones on your fist.

Sent back to the sands of Afghanistan, Tony Stark has a world to fix, and a Titan to stop, but he won't be doing it alone.

Can't Go On Without You (ao3) - hopecanbeyoursword pepper/tony G, 3k

Summary: They need all the help they can get to undo Thanos' actions. So Pepper Potts goes into space to bring back Tony and Nebula.

Guardian Angel (ao3) - flyingorfalling pepper/tony G, 3k

Summary: Pepper Potts is assigned to protect Tony Collins, Howard Stark's illegitimate son. Tony has become the target of Amon Stark, his older half brother, who allegedly murdered his father to get millions in inheritance.

His Other Mom (ao3) - betheflame pepper/tony G, 2k

Summary: “Peter, she’s called four times. You can’t avoid this,” May said gently to Peter the day after he got back from London.

“I know,” Peter said. “I’m just…”

“Peter,” May replied. “We talked about this. She’s your last link to Tony and you shouldn’t waste that. She knew him better than anyone, even Happy, so if you have questions, she might just have answers.”

Peter rubbed his hand over his face, jet lag was a bitch even with super powers, and nodded. He went into his room and made the call.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Basically, on the second viewing of FFH, I wondered why no one gave the Owner of SI a heads up that her tech was being used by a stranger.

If You Hurt Him... (ao3) - jordieey natasha/tony N/R, 2k

Summary: It's time Pepper had a talk with one Agent Romanoff.

Like Glitter and Gold (I'll Rise Up) (ao3) - wigglyink pepper/tony G, 1k

Summary: How THAT scene should have ended. Includes Pepper Potts being awesome. Tony doesn't die because i said so.

Living with Eyes Wide Open (ao3) - paxere eventual steve/tony G, 4k

Summary: Steve is trying to get used to the 21st century. The Avengers are trying to become a team. Neither of these things are going well. Pepper has some ideas.

No Superhero (ao3) - anxiousgeek pepper/natasha, past pepper/tony T, 2k

Summary: She’s not a superhero.

But then the tower is on fire and Thor is also on fire and for once Pepper is not on fire.

Project New Hope (ao3) - goingsparebutwithprecision pepper/tony N/R, 4k

Summary: In which Pepper Potts has the worst period pains known to humankind, and deals with them via movie marathons, superheroes, and unnecessary code-names. Only some of these things are Tony's fault.

Search and Rescue (ao3) - SailorChibi pepper/tony T, 4k

Summary: There is no way Pepper Potts is going to let her fiancé die alone in space.

Secret Identities and Super-dads (ao3) - Khentkawes pepper/tony T, 6k

Summary: When armed men attack an elementary school in upstate New York, attempting to kidnap eight-year-old Morgan Stark, no one expects that “Roger the chauffeur” will be the one to take out the bad guys—with some backup from Morgan Stark herself and a very pissed off Pepper Potts.

The public have believed Tony was dead for the past four years, and Tony never expected his big secret would get out like this. He didn’t mean to blow his cover as “Roger the chauffeur.” But when people try to mess with his family, they get what’s coming to them.

Sobriety Chips and Salsa (ao3) - betheflame steve/tony, bucky/natasha M, 7k

Summary: Sure, they all knew Tony was an alcoholic, but he had it basically under control, right?

Right?

Or, the story where he absolutely didn't, but eventually does, and both he and Steve remember the meaning of their vows.

Teach Me (ao3) - RobinsonsWereHere pepper/tony G, 1k

Summary: Pepper Stark has had enough of mourning. Mourning only makes it more difficult to raise a daughter or head a company or be a superhero, or any combination of the three. Ready to put Tony's last gift to her to good use, she turns to a capable friend for help.

The Other Side (ao3) - romeoandjulietyouwish pepper/tony T, 4k

Summary: Thanos snaps his fingers, but Peter Parker doesn't disappear. Tony Stark does.

vigilante shit (ao3) - graveltotempo T, 5k

Summary: People tend to underestimate Virginia 'Pepper' Potts.

Watch the Queen Conquer (ao3) - sirladyknight pepper/tony G, 1k

Summary: (Tony may have been the careless Prince but Pepper was always the Queen.)

Blatant worshipping of the strawberry-blonde CEO that is our glorious Pepper Potts. Or Pepper solves a problem like a boss and is trying to make friends that don't fight evil aliens for a living. Oh, she and Jarvis are BFFs.

with resolution and without remorse (ao3) - LadyCrimsonAndBlack T, 4k

Summary: Pepper Potts is a powerful woman. People just don't really know how much.

(Or, the one in which Pepper is Hela and she does not allow her family to get hurt.)

your wild heart (ao3) - closingdoors pepper/tony G, 804

Summary: A missing scene during the big battle in Endgame. Tony finds a moment to greet Rescue!Pepper.

[stingandsnoutbindery]

Advent Anthology by @pacific-rimbaud

A Compilation of PR's one-shot entries for DHr Advent, years 2020-2022.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Relationship: Draco Malfoy x Hermione Granger

Art by the wonderful @chestercompany

My binderary baby and second fanbinding project.

read below the cut for the process and other binding deets.

Quick Specs

20,015 words | 179 pages | Quarto (1/4 of Letter)

Technique: Flatback bradel Title & Body Font: Libre Baskerville (in various style emphasis)

Fics included:

Les Pelerins (10k; 2020 entry)

I'm Never Lonely When I'm With You (5k; 2021 entry)

On The Virtues of Inexhaustible Burning (5k; 2022 entry)

Pac is the type I could trust to write anything and I know I'll absolutely love. Her advent fics, in particular, I especially adore. The writing is very visceral and I will not admit how many times I've reread these.

On The Book

I had not intended to bind any book/s for @renegadepublishing's binderary because of my hectic schedule, however FOMO won over and this book was born. It was a relatively quick design and typeset (I really do better under pressure lol). I wish I could say the same for when I started the actual binding though. This is the 8th book I’ve bound and I had expected it to go relatively smoothly, but this book fought me every step of the way and I'll indulge in expressing my distress on this post.

First, the print place I go to messed up my typeset, thus me having to travel back home to use our old crappy inkjet (that took 3 hours to print). And because said printer is crappy, I had to use 100gsm short grain to minimize show-through, and well, you can imagine how stick straight the pages are. Second, I made the case too small (I worked on the book after a toxic 12 hour lab day and was not in the right state) and instead of redoing the covers, I re-trimmed and repainted the fore edge (at cost of my lovely margins ..wails). Third & last, the vinyl refused! to stick to the cover and I proper burnt the HTV as well as my finger on my iron. In the book's defense, it was my first time using leather paper and I forgot to test their chemistry.

On The Bind

Everything else went swimmingly, aforementioned shit aside. I tried not to make this book scream Christmas and leaned into a more subtle theme through color choices. I finally got to use this lovely red leather paper from Itoya, which my parents bought me during their trip in Japan. Many thanks to @celestial-sphere-press for helping me out with the shops to visit!

The design cover was made on Illustrator. The words are actually the fic prompts which I arranged in concentric circles, inspired by the arrangement of the advent candles in our local church from years back. I have no idea what paper my print place used, but it has some nice pulp to it.

As I said, I melted the HTV and certain parts refused to stick, so I peeled all of it off, except for the spine title (which miraculously stuck) and used my foil quill pen instead. I used an off-brand one and it's really good!

I also did this sort of strip across the edge which I learned is called a "river" as Nic @bindsbymunchkin called it. The side near the spine though, looked asymmetrically empty, so I added the foiling. And as this is an anthology, the punctuations was a design choice to convey the start and end and pauses in-between stories (and mostly because they just look fancy lol).

Like my last bind, the edges are gold which is comprised of an undercoat of diluted dark gray Sakura acrylic paint and many layers of Liquitex iridescent gold acrylic ink.

Endbands are made with alternating colors of cream, gray, and gold DMC cotton threads, however I'm learning I don't very much like how sewn endbands look on small flatbacks.

The endpapers are my fave. I had already tipped in plain cream cardstock but then I was like: this book needs MARBLED PAPER! so I ripped off the one I had stuck and replaced it. It's actually not real marbled paper HAHA. I sourced it from this site, printed it on some heavy paper, and oh my god I believe the universe really meant for me to find this pattern because it coincidentally matched the colors of the endbands!!

On The Typeset

I wanted to keep things cohesive but also give each story its own character. Libre Baskerville was a lovely typeface to do that on.

From left to right: Les Pelerins, I'm Never Lonely When I'm With You, On The Virtues of Inexhaustible Burning

For Les Pelerins, I wanted to mimic the silhouette of the establishments in Montmartre, hence the varying heights of the letters. If I wasn’t on a time crunch, I would’ve spent more time editing the headers but alas this is what we get. INLWIWY is more straightforward– a pinecone, which was a recurring theme in the story. And I think OTVOIB is my favorite. I drew tiny gold cracks onto the coal rock which is a significant element in the story. It still gives me that stomach flip whenever I reread it (iykyk).

[finalfrontierpublishing]

Process - or really Nic doing random shit and hoping it works

Recently, a few bookbinders have been describing their creative process and i love how aspirational and amazing they are. these people are amazing, my friends- they come up with so much cool shit in the setting of their home, with things they have on hand, and it shocks me at how great these bookbinders are. 

i think comparatively, my process is fairly simple (i.e. chaos gremlin), and I've decided I'd like to use a previous book i took process pics of as a general outline as to how i come up with what i want to do. 

My first step is usually to fixate on a particular design element and move on from there - this is usually a chapter font or an image header or a cover image i’m interested in using, and then moving on to putting things together to form something cohesive. most of the time i have to see how it’ll look visually before i can decide, which does make choosing design elements challenging and hence made me a little into a pantser (despite being an asshole who likes to measure things). half the time, i change things like endpapers or endbands or colour of bookcloth or even the whole freaking design right down to the wire because i just won’t know what will work until i can see it.

To make this a little fun for me, I'll outline the general stream of consciousness (let's face it, it’s not that much of a process, I just think things and sometimes a book happens) along with 45% of the foul language that accompanies it when I try new things with books.

(Please be aware that I am 90% made of foul language and i sometimes frequently blaspheme like a sailor)

See below for thought process, process pics and much swearing. 

Day 0 minus 14 - Ok, let's be smart about binderary, shall we? I have a week of leave in February, let's make it count... Proceeds to prepare 10 typesets with 2 ready-made ones and then an additional notebook for a total of 13 books for Binderary. Ooh boy. Yeah, that’s achievable. 

Day 1:

Attends queercore workshop at 0630am in the morning. Fuck, am I sleepy. Did I succeed in making a book? Not really. Okay, let’s fudge it. Converts glueless notebook with nice stitching into case bind. Convenient gift for mothers day - booyah, 1 gift done. 

Oh hey. I have a thing. What about the Oh Mercy // Oh Love book. Hmmm, I have a nice image for this that I didn't use for the typesetting. Wonder if I can stitch it.

20:00 hours: Oooh, Neenah Illusio Laser paper - it looks so shiny. And Metallic. Very circuit board-y. Just what i was going for. Is it a paper? Is it cloth? I have no fucking idea. Hope it takes foil alright.

20:30 hours: Ooh ok, success - Jesus that's a lot of holes to poke.

Day 2: 

Okay, procrastination. Gotta make a case. 

JEsus i hate the turn ins and THE SPINE DFJKLSDFKLJ;SDF;LKSDF paper why you gotta do me a dirty?! Stiff and crinkly!!!!

17:00 hours: okay, case is nearly doneish.

Time to use foil quill to outline the holes to give it that soldered look and then do all the hole pokery. Dinner first.

19:00 hours: Dinner sorted. But like you know, let’s do some hammering with an awl in an apartment complex and pray none of the neighbours complain.

Shit these holes are small.

22:30 hours: I might finish this by Christmas, maybe. 

JFC i am collapsing under my hubris. THE FACT I THOUGHT I COULD DO THIS. Oh god @&£#'€¥ what possessed me to try this - oh I know, I thought it would look cool (90% of why I do things when I make books).

Go easy on the thread - do not rip it through the space between two holes. JESUS FFFJB;N;KLGH CHRIST WHY.

Okay I can do this. I can do this. Stitches for 4 hours and nearly collapses.

Stitching is done!!!! Hmmm design looks a little plain. And awww shit you can't see any of the gold around the holes anymore. Okay let's try going over it in foil quill again.

00:30 hours: OH FUCK OH FUCK WHAT A FUCKING BAD IDEA.

Jesus djdjsbsbdjdsbdbddnc * MAKES MISTAKE and adds dot of gold on the side of a hole, plainly not in the hole*

Frantically googles ‘how to remove we r memory keepers heat reactive foil from paper’

Tries to remove it with an eraser and tape as per google recommendations- but removes a fuck ton of the green colouring on the bookcloth as well. JESUS.

I am ready for death.

Day 3:

10:30 hours: Okay I am ready for a new day. Am I really ready? Unclear. Time to weed the shit out a fucking complex design and go blind in the process.

12:30 hours: Ok fuck, that only took 2 hours.

But oh shit endbands and glueing of the spine. Time to do some glueing. At least it’s somewhat therapeutic. Jesus my endpapers and mull are still not on.

14:00 hours: On to the case it goes

14:30 hours: Time to do some HTV application

Fuck why isn't the HTV sticking JESUS cricut is an evil corporation out to take my money and yet I did not want to use Siser HTV today because I Was Not Ready for Death and Ruination. 

Proceeds to iron for the next 1 hour. 

16:00 hours: Fine it's finally fucking on?

Is the spine done? Hmmm. that little blemish isn’t covered. Should I cover it? Ugh. 

Cuts out little squares of gold foil - but it looks foul. Okay, nope, not good. 

Fuck I need a nap. Somewhere along the way, spouse comes home. Dog has been fed. My job is done. 

Naps for 3 hours just because.

20:00 hours: Okay moment of truth. Time to case in. Book is gonna be held together with glue and prayer. Shit why do the squares look so small- fuck it's because there's some stitching on the spine so I can't push the textblock all the way in. I DID NOT PLAN FOR THIS EVIDENTLY. please do not stick out please do not stick out please do not stick out

20:30 hours: hallelujah it is FINE - into the press of a million books it goes

So that was a wild ride-- i wish i could say i exaggerate, but this is how it is with me tryin’ to do a book especially when trying new things i haven’t previously done before. Will a book happen? Sometimes I don’t really know. 

[azucarmorena97]

Cold (1)

Prologue | Pt.2

Spoiled rotten. Idiot. Greedy. Gluttonous. Evrything you could ever despise in a human being, all wrapped up in a beautiful, gold foil package. Seokjin is known across the land- or, at least all over three different IVY league campuses in the area- as the party-legend and the guy to call for a good time. Not to mention, a total whore. The last person you ever would've wanted as a group mate for the first quarter of the new semester, and the last one you would've ever imagined to have fallen absolutuely, head over hell in love with.

Hell as officially frozen over.

A/N: This takes place before Jin's part in my BTS as Cliched School Tropes. I will be inserting a link to that piece right where it fits chronologically in the story so you can read it and come back when it's time. All the boys in this story are from that piece with each story occurring in the same universe and on the same timeline.

Series Warnings: Serious themes will be mentioned in this series, such as substance use/abuse, self harm, and violence. Not to mention, there will be smut in the future!

You've known him for a long time. Since you were about ten years old, to be exact. He's been in your class three different times, once for fifth grade, again for eighth, and then one final time for 11th grade. All three years, you'd interacted with him as little as possible, having decided in fifth grade that you hated him because he got everyone in your class to call you AP because, in his words, you were "such a goddamn nerd."

Girls have always liked him; He's handsome, always has been, he has money, knows how to have fun, doesn't take himself to seriously-

I mean, what's not to like, right?

Wrong. There's plenty to dislike, though writing a list would take forever and no one has that kind of time.

In fact, you were quite pleased when he moved schools in the middle of the semester during Jr. year. You weren't sure why he'd left so randomly, but you didn't really care to ask questions... although you did hear a few conflicting stories: busted for drug possession, caught drinking at a house party, stealing old Hitman Bang's (that's what everyone called the principal) car and taking it for a joyride. Honestly, all of those stories were pretty believable for those who knew him.

Hence, why he sucks as a person.

Imagine your surprise when, on the first day of University, he walks in with a crowd of people hanging off his every word. Walked right past you without a second glance.

Good. That's just how you preferred it anyway.

"It's not that I don't trust your judgment, sir. I just don't think it's gonna work out-" "If I do that for you, I'll have to reconfigure everyone else' group and that is just not an option."

Professor Song has just posted the teams for the upcoming group projects and you're desperately asking him to reconsider. Hoseok is standing next to you being of absolutely no help, of course.

"Sir, I understand but I could do it for you, if you'd like!" "Mr.Jung, do you have an issue with Jin being on your team?" Prof looks at him from over his glasses, lifting an eyebrow. Hoseok looks at him, then at you, "I-I don't have a particular issue-" You kick his ankle 'discreetly', "-I mean, but it does seem very very important to Y/n, so I support her?" Hoseok glances at you, giving a pathetic little smile of appeasment.

"Right...well, the decision is final. Sorry!" Without so much as another word, Prof grabs his briefcase and walks out of the classroom.

You glare at Hoseok, "Thanks a lot, dude."

You push past him and grab your backpack, brows furrowed in anger.

"Oh, come on!" He whines, "Maybe it won't be so bad."

"For you, maybe."

You both exit the classroom and start your way down the hall to where the elevators are. You press the button to go down.

"Look, I get your hesitance to work with him but that was high school and this is university! You seriously think he's the same guy we knew when we were 16?" He asks, putting his hands up for emphasis.

Just then, timing as perfect as any movie, the elevator doors open, revealing a girl with her back toward you, male hands clutching firmly at the flesh of her ass, as though neither of them expected the elevator to stop so soon. She jumps off of him and moves to the side- and there's Jin. Lipstick stained, puffy-pink lipped Jin.

You look at Hoseok, your expression screaming "I TOLD YOU SO." Hoseok just shrugs, "Old habits die hard?"

"I heard he's only there so that daddy doesn't cut him off," B/f/n says, leaning forward to add a few extra paint strokes to her big toe.

You roll your eyes, "I don't even care why he's there- I just want him gone. I don't even know how your boyfriend can stand him. Red flag, B/f/n."

She laughs, "Hoseok just...likes to see the good in people." "Yeah, like a dog." "At least I have a dog," She quips.

"Touche," You sigh, throwing yourself backwards onto your bed.

Neither of your speaks for a little while, the both of you lost in thought. A SZA song playing softly from B/f/n's speaker, filling every space of the room.

"Wanna know the funny part?" "Oh, we're still talking about him?" She asks smugly. "Shut up," You crane your neck to give her a quick glare before returning to your previous position, "The funny part is... I remember the first day I saw him. He walked into class and I thought he was likee...the most beautiful boy I've ever seen." "Really?" She asks, raising her brows in surprise. Seeing as how you're the president of the We-Hate-Jin club, it's a shock to think that, at one time, you might have been just as in love with him as everyone else.

"Yeah...and then he opened his stupid fucking mouth."

She rolls her eyes, "Of course."

You sigh, "I don't know what I'm gonna do." "You could always just transfer out of that class, you know? The semester just started, anyway."

"And let him win!? No way..." "Then, in the words of Edward Cullen, you'll just have to endure it."

And endure, you shall.

"For this first assignment, you will be presenting on any current major political event or global issue. I will be posting some idea topics on the projector, though you can choose a topic not on this list as well, just let me know as soon as you decide. Each topic is first come, first serve, so think of at least three possible topics in case yours is chosen," Prof flips his projector on and claps his hands together, "You may now go and confer with your team."

Students shuffle and move around the classroom to get to their teammates, though you and Hoseok stay put. "Should we go over to him?" Hoseok asks, looking behind him to look for Jin. "No. We're already sitting down, he's the one that should come to us," You say with a self-righteous expression.

A good three minutes pass and you're both still waiting. "I-I don't think he's coming," Hoseok says, checking his apple watch. You flare your nostrils, already annoyed. You give in to the urge to look behind you as Hoseok had, only to see Jin sitting with a large group of people in the back; his head jerking backward in laughter as they all huddle together.

Wordlessly, you stand up from your seat though you leave your notebook and pen at the table. You might be the one to go after him right now, but you'll be damned if you let him dictate where you'll work on the project.

As you approach the large group of people at the far back of the classroom, you feel your heart start pounding in your chest. It's like high school all over again. You try to shove your nerves out of your head and make sure not to let it show on your face. "Excuse me, Jin?" You say.

They all keep talking and carrying on, not a single one of them having heard you. It's like you're standing behind some kind of invisible forcefield of assholery. You clear your throat and, before you can fully gather the nerve, your index finger is making contact with Jin's shoulder. "Jin."

His head immediately whips around, "Mm?" Silence befalls the entire herd and you can feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment. "We're waiting for you."

"Who's waiting for me?" He asks, a genuine look of confusion on his face.

You stare at him blankly, deciding on whether or not he's pulling your leg, "Hoseok and I. Your team. For the project."

He glances over at Hoseok, who is texting away at the other table. "Right, the project." The herd laughs, "Fucking dumbass," One of them says, shoving his shoulder. "Shut your ass up," Jin shoves him, a big smile on his face.

You're still standing there awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

Jin looks as though he's only just remembering you're standing there and he clears his throat, "Uh, yeah. I'll be right there. No worries."

"Alright..." You say, eyes narrowed on him slightly. You're not sure you believe him, but you're also no gonna stand here like an idiot.

You return to your seat and open your notebook. "He coming?" Hoseok asks. "Yeah." "You sure? He hasn't moved like...at all." "He said he's coming, so he's coming. Let's just start thinking of what we want the topic to be." "Alright..." He leans back in his chair, "Well, I was thinking..."

Hoeseok goes through about three different topics, saying this or that about each one, but you can't focus on anything he's saying.

That fucking asshole isn't coming. It's been...goodness, it's been fifteen minutes. Does he just not give a fuck? Of course he doesn't. He's just here so he doesn't get cut off, just like B/f/n said.

"So, what do you think?" Hoseok asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Hm?" You ask, blinking slowly as you come back to reality. "Were you listening like, at all?" "Of- of course. Uhm, let's go with your second idea," You glance down at the paper he was jotting ideas down on, "Feminism in the workplace."

"Okay, great," He folds the paper and tucks it into his pocket.

"Alright, everyone. I hope you got some good discussions in. Remember this is due in a week and a half. Make sure to assign jobs tomorrow for everyone to do. Have a good rest of your day."

Everyone starts gathering their things and walking out, chatter filling the room. The crowd Jin was sitting with all walks forward to exit the room, and of course, Jin doesn't even look yours or Hoseok's way.

Fuck it. You don't need him.

"You excited to see him?" B/f/n asks, biting her straw in excitement. You roll your eyes, trying to seem nonchalant, "It's not even a big deal." "Oh, please. You all but begged for Hoseok to invite him." "I did not beg. I...strongly suggested it would be cool to have more people over," You shrug, taking a swig of your coke. "Right," She laughs. "Aaay!" Hoseok's voice booms from the living room, indicating his invited *ahem* guest has arrived.

You and B/f/n both look at each other, sudden panic taking over the both of you; B/f/n for you, and you for yourself. "Teeth!" You both say in unison, prompting you to immediately bare your teeth at her, her eyes carefully examining every single crevice, "You're good." "Breath?" You breath on her. "Minty fresh," She assures. You take a long, deep breath, "Okay. Let's do this." "So much for it not being a big deal," B/f/n says smugly, to which to respond by glaring at her.

"Hey, everyone!" B/f/n greets with a big smile, walking over and hugging Yoongi, Namjoon, and Taehyung.

They all greet the both of you.

"Can I offer you guys any drinks? Namjoon, Yoongi...Taehyung?" Your eyes linger on Tae for just a little longer than the others, as he's your true interest tonight anyway.

"I'll take a beer," Hoseok interjects, to which B/f/n chupses and hits his arm. "Ow?" He furrows his brows.

"I think we'll all take beers," Namjoon says for everyone. "Uhm, I think I'll just have a Sprite, thanks," Tae says.

"One Sprite, coming up" You smile, completely forgetting about everyone else, 'cause fuck 'em, that's why.

"Let's go!" Hoseok cheers, along with the other guys when whatever-the-fuck team scores the winning touchdown. "Good, it's finally over," You say exasperatedly; you're bored to death and just want to be able to talk to Taehyung.

"I don't even know why you'd want to be invited to watch the game- you hate football," B/f/n says, just loud enough for you to hear but no one else.

"I was desperate," You sigh, "I've been trying to get the nerve to talk to Tae' but I never had an in until now." "Just talk to him, you nerd," She says, lightly pushing on your shoulder.

"You're right. I need to stop being a pussy," You nod, "I'm going in."

By this point, everyone's had a few beers- minus Tae- and everyone is in a seemingly good enough mood; "How about some karaoke?" You say, standing in the middle of the living room in front of the TV.

"Fuck yeah!" Hoseok jumps up, "I'll go get the mics."

"Karaoke's not really my think," Yoongi says, crossing his arms. "What? Scared you'll lose your sTrEet CrEd with your shitty singing?" You mock. "Scared? Ha," He shakes his head, "You know what, fine. We'll do some karaoke."

"Ay! Now it's a party," You and B/f/n cheer, "Got the mics," Hoseok says, coming back with the rechargeable mics with built in speakers, "I call first!" "What about you, Taehyung? You gonna sing?" You ask, sitting next to him. He smiles shyly, "I...I don't know. I'm a little shy." "Oh, come on! I'm sure you'll be great." "I think I'll just watch for now," He says, leaning back into the couch.

"Ah, you're the observant type, then?" You ask, taking advantage of the fact that everyone is now focused on Hoseok's overly emotional rendition of The Fray's 'How to Save a Life'.

"I guess so," He nods. "A wallflower of sorts," You add. "What a...pretty way to put being an introvert," He chuckles. "I do have a way with words," You smile. "I definitely don't- I usually get really tongue tied when I'm on the spot." "Yeah, I'm not much of a public speaker, myself." "Shit, me either. I failed speech last semester because of it." "You took speech? Who was your professor?" You ask, rotating yourself to face him better. "Professor Song," He sighs. "No shit- I have him now too!" "Good luck," He shakes his head in pity. "You can say that again. He paired me up with this guy I've known for forever, total dick. I tried to get him to change the teams but Prof was absolutely not with it," You roll your eyes. "Yeah, sounds like Song... Who's the guy?" He asks. "Hm?" "Total Dick." "Ah yeah, him. You may have heard of him. Kim Seokjin?"

"No way, you're working with Jin this semester?!" Yoongi cuts in, plopping down next to you, "I've been overcharging that idiot for weed since middle school," He laughs.

"Remember when you sold him Tums and told him it was molly?" Namjoon laughs. "Oh yeah, that shit was funny."

"So he's really stupid?" Tae asks. "Oh no, he's more than that," You say bitterly. "Oh boy, you've gotten her started," B/f/n sighs. "He's the hugest asshole. Fifth grade, a girl told him he needed a hair cut, so what'd he do? Tangled a huge wad of Hubba Bubba in her hair, then told her he knew a really good barber who could take care of that. Eight grade, he was caught...'playing doctor' with some girl under the bleachers at a football game and then proceeded to completely ignore her for the rest of the year, went on to date her best friend. These are only some of the dickish things he's done-" "Wow, he does seem like quite the asshole," Tae nods, taking a sip of his sprite. You catch yourself having gone on a rant, as you tend to do, and get embarrassed. "Yeah, uhm...well, I-I'm gonna go get us some popcorn. Be right back-" "I've actually gotta get going," Taehyung says, checking his watch. "Yeah, me too," Yoongi nods, putting his beer on the table. "Yoongi's my ride," Namjoon stands as well.

"Oh, okay," You try not to sound so defeated, convinced that you've blown it by sounding like the biggest hater in the universe. "It was nice of you all to come over," B/f/n says. "Of course, thanks for having us," Namjoon smiles. "tHaNks fOr hAvIng Us," Yoongi mocks him, "Fucking dweeb." "It's the polite thing to say," Namjoon furrows his brows. "Bye Taehyung," You say, as he's the last one out the door. "Bye. It was nice talking to you," He smiles politely, giving a slight bow and then following them out.

When the door closes, you plop back down on the couch, letting out a big sigh, throwing your hands over your face in defeat. "Ugh! I blew it, didn't I?" "What? No, not at all...I- I definitely think, for next time, maybe don't go on a tangent about another man?" "Another man? You make it seem like I was talking about a lover," You scoff. "I know, I know. But just tone it down next time." "If there even is a next time," You groan, still not uncovering your eyes. "Oh stop, I'm sure there will be. I'll even make Hobi keep throwing watch parties until Taehyung eventually falls in love with you." Finally, you uncover your eyes, "Promise?" You hold out your pinky, and she hooks hers around it, "Promise."

A/N: I think I'm addicted to writing the boys out to be total jerks. What can I say? That's my type. As always, let me know what you think! <3

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: Jon XI (Chapter 53)

Apologies for using Karsi as a placeholder. Val wasn't relevant enough to be on the show.

He was not a tall man, Tormund Giantsbane, but the gods had given him a broad chest and massive belly. Mance Rayder had named him Tormund Horn-Blower for the power of his lungs, and was wont to say that Tormund could laugh the snow off mountaintops. In his wroth, his bellows reminded Jon of a mammoth trumpeting.

[...]

Finally, as the shadows of the afternoon grew long outside the tent, Tormund Giantsbane—Tall-Talker, Horn-Blower, and Breaker of Ice, Tormund Thunderfist, Husband to Bears, Mead-King of Ruddy Hall, Speaker to Gods and Father of Hosts—thrust out his hand. "Done then, and may the gods forgive me. There's a hundred mothers never will, I know."

Are we being baited? We're being baited, aren't we?

"If you refuse," Mance Rayder said, "Tormund Giantsbane will sound the Horn of Winter three days hence, at dawn." - Jon X, ASOS

+.+.+

Jon clasped the offered hand. The words of his oath rang through his head. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. And for him a new refrain: I am the guard who opened the gates and let the foe march through. He would have given much and more to know that he was doing the right thing. But he had gone too far to turn back.

This is the price of peace, I pay it willingly. If I look back, I am lost. - Daenerys VIII, ADWD

+.+.+

"Gold for gruel, and boys … a cruel price. Whatever happened to that sweet lad I knew?"

They made him lord commander. "A fair bargain leaves both sides unhappy, I've heard it said. Three days?"

"If I live that long. Some o' my own will spit on me when they hear these terms." Tormund released Jon's hand. "Your crows will grumble too, if I know them. And I ought to. I have killed more o' you black buggers than I can count."

This week on Foils,

Jon negotiates an uneasy peace with those uncivilized, barbaric wildlings.

I hope he doesn't start sulking, and decide to burn everyone alive.

+.+.+

The wildling pulled off the band from his left arm and tossed it at Jon, then did the same with its twin upon his right. "Your first payment. Had those from my father and him from his. Now they're yours, you thieving black bastard."

The armbands were old gold, solid and heavy, engraved with the ancient runes of the First Men. Tormund Giantsbane had worn them as long as Jon had known him; they had seemed as much a part of him as his beard. "The Braavosi will melt these down for the gold. That seems a shame. Perhaps you ought to keep them."

"No. I'll not have it said that Tormund Thunderfist made the free folk give up their treasures whilst he kept his own."

Speaking of being baited, I continue to be distracted by the ancient runes.

+.+.+

Grief twisted Tormund's face. "Dormund was cut down in the battle for the Wall, and him still half a boy. One o' your king's knights did for him, some bastard all in grey steel with moths upon his shield. I saw the cut, but my boy was dead before I reached him. And Torwynd … it was the cold claimed him. Always sickly, that one. He just up and died one night. The worst o' it, before we ever knew he'd died he rose pale with them blue eyes. Had to see to him m'self. That was hard, Jon." Tears shone in his eyes. 

Richard Horpe is with Stannis, I don't think anything is brewing.

+.+.+

"Dawn, then. Three days from now. The boys first."

"I heard you the first ten times, crow. A man'd think there was no trust between us." He spat. "Boys first, aye. Mammoths go the long way round. You make sure Eastwatch expects them. I'll make sure there's no fighting, nor rushing at your bloody gate. Nice and orderly we'll be, ducklings in a row. And me the mother duck. Har!" Tormund led Jon from his tent.

The mammoths are all at Eastwatch. Pray for Eastwatch.

If the Others do attack Eastwatch, you have a nice little parallel with Daenerys, who's about to go to war with the elephants.

+.+.+

He [Hareth] and Leathers were the only men Jon had brought with him to the parley; any more might have been seen as a sign of fear, and twenty men would have been of no more use than two if Tormund had been intent on blood.

Bruh, you have to create the illusion you're including others in your decision-making process. Even Tywin Lannister did that.

+.+.+

Ghost was the only protection Jon needed; the direwolf could sniff out foes, even those who hid their enmity behind smiles.

Ghost would have followed as well, but as the wolf came padding after them, Jon grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and wrestled him back inside. Borroq might be amongst those gathering at the Shieldhall. The last thing he needed just now was his wolf savaging the skinchanger's boar. - Jon XIII, ADWD

+.+.+

From above came the sudden sound of wings. Mormont's raven flapped from a limb of an old oak to perch upon Jon's saddle. "Corn," it cried. "Corn, corn, corn."

"Did you follow me as well?" Jon reached to shoo the bird away but ended up stroking its feathers. The raven cocked its eye at him. "Snow," it muttered, bobbing its head knowingly. 

Eye, singular.

That ain't no blood raven, that's a Bran raven.

+.+.+

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.

They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.

"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.

"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."

Wait a second.

WAIT A SECOND.

What happened ... to Cool Girl's ... grey eyes?

Why ... at this moment ... have they turned ... blue?

Val looked at him with pale grey eyes. - Jon X, ASOS

x

They had crowned her with a simple circlet of dark bronze, yet she looked more regal in bronze than Stannis did in gold. Her eyes were grey and fearless, unflinching. - Jon III, ADWD

See? Grey. She's shapeshifting again.

Something tells me that's not a continuity error.

She was as fair as he'd remembered, slender, full-breasted, graceful even at rest, with high sharp cheekbones and a thick braid of honey-colored hair that fell to her waist. - Jon X, ASOS

x

Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue - Jon XI, ADWD

Something weird is going on here, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

Worse, she was beautiful. - Arya I, AGOT

x

"Your bosom will be as lovely as the queen's," the old woman said as she looped her string around Sansa's chest. "You should not hide it so." - Sansa II, ASOS

x

"I had heard that Lord Littlefinger's daughter was fair of face and full of grace, but no one ever told me that she was a thief." - Alayne I, TWOW

x

Sansa had gotten their mother's fine high cheekbones - Arya I, AGOT

x

"OH, SWEET SHE WAS, AND PURE, AND FAIR! THE MAID WITH HONEY IN HER HAIR!" - Sansa I, ASOS

x

✨✨✨ Petyr studied her eyes, as if seeing them for the first time. "You have your mother's eyes. Honest eyes, and innocent. Blue as a sunlit sea. When you are a little older, many a man will drown in those eyes." - Sansa I, AFFC ✨✨✨

+.+.+

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.

They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.

"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.

"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."

It's a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.

Two pairs of hose for her legs, boots that laced up to her knees, heavy leather gloves, and finally a hooded cloak of soft white fox fur.

[...]

He smiled. "I wish you could see yourself, my lady. You are so beautiful. You're crusted over with snow like some little bear cub, but your face is flushed and you can scarcely breathe. How long have you been out here? You must be very cold. Let me warm you, Sansa. - Sansa VII, ASOS

+.+.+

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.

They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.

"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.

"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."

It's always there, the truth. We just need to look for it.

"I had heard that Lord Littlefinger's daughter was fair of face and full of grace, but no one ever told me that she was a thief."

"You wrong me, ser. I am no thief!"

Ser Roland placed his hand over his heart. "Then how do you explain this hole in my chest, from where you stole my heart?" - Alayne I, TWOW

+.+.+

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.

They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.

"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.

"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."

Why, it's almost as if this "character" (I use that term loosely) is a plot device, who only exists to remind us of other people.

The light of the half-moon turned Val's honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. "The air tastes sweet."

"My tongue is too numb to tell. All I can taste is cold." - Jon VIII, ADWD

Pale silver? Bad. ❌

Dark honey, blue-eyed? Good. ✅

Okay, I'm done.

+.+.+

What had that oaf Axell Florent said of Val? "A nubile girl, not hard to look upon. Good hips, good breasts, well made for whelping children."

+.+.+

All true enough, but the wildling woman was so much more. 

If you have any critical thinking skills whatsoever, this should have prompted nothing more than a laugh.

The joke is he doesn't know anything about Val. The reader doesn't know anything about Val. Val is a blank page dressed in white.

+.+.+

She had proved that by finding Tormund where seasoned rangers of the Watch had failed. She may not be a princess, but she would make a worthy wife for any lord.

Again, the appropriate response is to laugh.

Val would make a dreadful wife for any noble, and the author's going to demonstrate why.

I weep for people who can't see what's going on here.

Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. - Catelyn VII, ACOK

x

She is good at this, he thought, as he watched her tell Lord Gyles that his cough was sounding better, compliment Elinor Tyrell on her gown, and question Jalabhar Xho about wedding customs in the Summer Isles. His cousin Ser Lancel had been brought down by Ser Kevan, the first time he'd left his sickbed since the battle. He looks ghastly. Lancel's hair had turned white and brittle, and he was thin as a stick. Without his father beside him holding him up, he would surely have collapsed. Yet when Sansa praised his valor and said how good it was to see him getting strong again, both Lancel and Ser Kevan beamed. She would have made Joffrey a good queen and a better wife if he'd had the sense to love her. He wondered if his nephew was capable of loving anyone. - Tyrion VIII, ASOS

A poor substitute for the real thing.

King Stannis had plans for Val, he knew; she was the mortar with which he meant to seal the peace between the northmen and the free folk. - Samwell I, AFFC

x

Our alliances in the south may be as solid as Casterly Rock, but there remains the north to win, and the key to the north is Sansa Stark. - Tyrion III, ASOS

Always has been, always will be.

She may not be a princess

Wait for it.

WAIT FOR IT.

+.+.+

But that bridge had been burned a long time ago, and Jon himself had thrown the torch. "Toregg is welcome to her," he announced. "I took a vow."

That's kind of a dick thing to say right in front of her, lol.

+.+.+

"She won't mind. Will you, girl?"

Val patted the long bone knife on her hip. "Lord Crow is welcome to steal into my bed any night he dares. Once he's been gelded, keeping those vows will come much easier for him."

HA HA she's so cool.

+.+.+

As Jon scratched Ghost behind the ear, Toregg brought up Val's horse for her. She still rode the grey garron that Mully had given her the day she left the Wall, a shaggy, stunted thing blind in one eye. As she turned it toward the Wall, she asked, "How fares the little monster?"

+.+.+

"Freedom of the castle you shall have, but I regret to say you must remain a captive. I can promise that you will not be troubled by unwanted visitors, however. My own men guard Hardin's Tower, not the queen's. And Wun Wun sleeps in the entry hall."

Sansa hovered by the door, for once unguarded. The queen had given her freedom of the castle as a reward for being good, yet even so, she was escorted everywhere she went. - Sansa V, AGOT

Shoutout to @please-dot!

+.+.+

Jon saw signs of sickness too. That disquieted him more than he could say. If Tormund's band were starved and sick, what of the thousands who had followed Mother Mole to Hardhome? Cotter Pyke should reach them soon. If the winds were kind, his fleet might well be on its way back to Eastwatch even now, with as many of the free folk as he could cram aboard.

Jon lets the sick pass the Wall.

Now I'm wondering what the author's personal stance was on Daenerys keeping the sick out of Meereen. I didn't think she had much of a choice, but perhaps George disagrees.

+.+.+

"How did you fare with Tormund?" asked Val.

"Ask me a year from now. The hard part still awaits me. The part where I convince mine own to eat this meal I've cooked for them. None of them are going to like the taste, I fear."

"Let me help."

"You have. You brought me Tormund."

"I can do more."

Why not? thought Jon. They are all convinced she is a princess. Val looked the part and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.

There it is, in all its glory.

A real authentic warrior princess.

Controversial, but I agree with him.

Val is nothing like that other princess in the story.

+.+.+

Why not? thought Jon. They are all convinced she is a princess. Val looked the part and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.

I'm not finished.

In case Jon's own thoughts weren't enough,

Val is no princess, though. I told him that half a hundred times. - Jon VIII, ADWD

George has basically confirmed Jon is projecting all over this girl.

However, in my own defense, I should note that Dalla was not a "warrior woman" per se. She was from a warrior culture, yes; one that gave women the right, but not the obligation, to be fighters. Ygritte was a warrior woman, as was (most conspicuously) the fearsome Harma Dogshead. Dalla and Val were not. - George R. R. Martin

She is no warrior, she is no princess, and she damn well sure isn't the mortar to the north.

As for Jon's thoughts on willowy creatures in towers,

He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind. - Jon III, AGOT

x

The mare whickered softly as Jon Snow tightened the cinch. "Easy, sweet lady," he said in a soft voice, quieting her with a touch. - Jon IX, AGOT

x

He was not a man you'd expect to speak of maids and wedding nights. So far as Jon knew, Qhorin had spent his whole life in the Watch. Did he ever love a maid or have a wedding? He could not ask. Instead he fanned the fire. When the blaze was all acrackle, he peeled off his stiff gloves to warm his hands, and sighed, wondering if ever a kiss had felt as good. - Jon VIII, ACOK

x

Sometimes she sang in a low husky voice that stirred him. And sometimes by the cookfire when she sat hugging her knees with the flames waking echoes in her red hair, and looked at him, just smiling . . . well, that stirred some things as well. - Jon II, ASOS

x

If I could show her Winterfell . . . give her a flower from the glass gardens, feast her in the Great Hall, and show her the stone kings on their thrones. We could bathe in the hot pools, and love beneath the heart tree while the old gods watched over us. - Jon V, ASOS

x

"Then I'd push him in a stream or throw a bucket o' water on him. Anyhow, men shouldn't smell sweet like flowers."

"What's wrong with flowers?" - Jon V, ASOS

x

For a time he dreamed that Ygritte was with him, tending him with gentle hands. - Jon VI, ASOS

x

He watched the child nurse at Gilly's breast, and then he watched Jon watch. Jon is smiling. A sad smile, still, but definitely a smile of sorts. Sam was glad to see it. It is the first time I've seen him smile since I got back. - Samwell IV, ASOS

x

A snowflake danced upon the air. Then another. Dance with me, Jon Snow, he thought. You'll dance with me anon. - Jon XII, ADWD

I might take it more seriously if he wasn't such a willowy boy.

+.+.+

"I must inform the queen of this agreement," he said. "You are welcome to come meet her, if you can find it in yourself to bend a knee." It would never do to offend Her Grace before he even opened his mouth.

"May I laugh when I kneel?"

"You may not. This is no game. A river of blood runs between our peoples, old and deep and red. Stannis Baratheon is one of the few who favors admitting wildlings to the realm. I need his queen's support for what I've done."

Val's playful smile died. "You have my word, Lord Snow. I will be a proper wildling princess for your queen."

Oh boy, I can't wait to see how well princess emissary does.

Teach him, author. Show him what happens to 11-year-old girls boys who romanticize pretty princes princesses they don't know.

+.+.+

She is not my queen, he might have said. If truth be told, the day of her departure cannot come too fast for me. And if the gods are good, she will take Melisandre with her.

I know this is about Selyse, but.

+.+.+

"If it please m'lord, the lads were wondering. Will it be peace, m'lord? Or blood and iron?"

"Peace," Jon Snow replied. "Three days hence, Tormund Giantsbane will lead his people through the Wall. As friends, not foes. Some may even swell our ranks, as brothers. It will be for us to make them welcome. Now back to your duties." 

This, plus the conflict between Daenerys and Yunkai being (temporarily) resolved by a peace deal, is another strong indicator the Others will not be stopped with swords or magic.

+.+.+

Bring parchment, quills, and a pot of maester's black to my chambers. Then summon Marsh, Yarwyck, Septon Cellador, Clydas." Cellador would be half-drunk, and Clydas was a poor substitute for a real maester, but they were what he had. Till Sam returns. 

Poor substitutes everywhere you look! What happened to getting more maesters?

"If you ask the Citadel for more maesters . . ."

"I mean to. We'll have need of every one. Aemon Targaryen is not so easily replaced, however." - Jon II, ADWD

Looks like the author is going to pretend it doesn't take years to become a maester. Who needs a 5 year gap?

+.+.+

He turned to Val. "My lady. With me, if you please."

"The crow commands, the captive must obey." Her tone was playful. 

x

They made their way toward the King's Tower, along fresh-shoveled pathways between mounds of dirty snow. "I have heard it said that your queen has a great dark beard."

Jon knew he should not smile, but he did.

x

Commanding them was Ser Patrek of King's Mountain, clad in his knightly raiment of white and blue and silver, his cloak a spatter of five-pointed stars. When presented to Val, the knight sank to one knee to kiss her glove. "You are even lovelier than I was told, princess," he declared. "The queen has told me much and more of your beauty."

"How odd, when she has never seen me." Val patted Ser Patrek on the head. "Up with you now, ser kneeler. Up, up." She sounded as if she were talking to a dog.

It was all that Jon could do not to laugh. 

+.+.+

When presented to Val, the knight sank to one knee to kiss her glove. "You are even lovelier than I was told, princess," he declared. "The queen has told me much and more of your beauty."

"How odd, when she has never seen me."

Not to be outdone, the pimply knight hopped up and said, "Ser Ossifer speaks truly, you are the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms." It might have been a sweeter courtesy had he not addressed it to her chest.

"And have you seen all those maids yourself, ser?" Alayne asked him. "You are young to be so widely travelled." - Alayne I, TWOW

Shoutout to @please-dot!

+.+.+

They found Her Grace sewing by the fire, whilst her fool danced about to music only he could hear, the cowbells on his antlers clanging. "The crow, the crow," Patchface cried when he saw Jon. "Under the sea the crows are white as snow, I know, I know, oh, oh, oh."

If under the sea is still code for death, then I believe that's more evidence of Jon warging inside Ghost.

+.+.+

There was no sign of Lady Melisandre. For that much Jon was grateful. 

Lol.

+.+.+

"Your Grace." He took a knee. Val did likewise.

Wow, impressive. Let's see your curtsy, princess blue-blood.

+.+.+

"Are you the wildling princess?" Shireen asked Val.

"Some call me that," said Val. "My sister was wife to Mance Rayder, the King-Beyond-the-Wall. She died giving him a son."

I'm sorry, don't the kneelers call you that?

+.+.+

"I'm a princess too," Shireen announced, "but I never had a sister. I used to have a cousin once, before he sailed away. He was just a bastard, but I liked him."

"Honestly, Shireen," her mother said. "I am sure the lord commander did not come to hear about Robert's by-blows. Patchface, be a good fool and take the princess to her room."

The bells on his hat rang. "Away, away," the fool sang. "Come with me beneath the sea, away, away, away." He took the little princess by one hand and drew her from the room, skipping.

Hey, princess Sansa has a bastard cousin she's fond of too.

Please don't take Shireen beneath the sea. Please?

+.+.+

Jon said, "Your Grace, the leader of the free folk has agreed to my terms."

Queen Selyse gave the tiniest of nods. "It was ever my lord husband's wish to grant sanctuary to these savage peoples. So long as they keep the king's peace and the king's laws, they are welcome in our realm." She pursed her lips. "I am told they have more giants with them."

Yes, that was definitely something Stannis genuinely cared about.

Melisandre nodded solemnly, as if she had taken his words to heart, but this Weeper did not matter. None of his free folk mattered. They were a lost people, a doomed people, destined to vanish from the earth, as the children of the forest had vanished. - Melisandre I, ADWD

+.+.+

She pursed her lips. "I am told they have more giants with them." Val answered. "Almost two hundred of them, Your Grace. And more than eighty mammoths."

The queen shuddered. "Dreadful creatures." Jon could not tell if she was speaking of the mammoths or the giants. "Though such beasts might be useful to my lord husband in his battles."

There's two hundred giants, and eighty mammoths?

Probably not for long.

"Though such beasts might be useful to my lord husband in his battles."

I hate these people.

+.+.+

Selyse sniffed. "If you say so. No doubt you know about such things. Where do you mean to settle these wildlings? Surely Mole's Town is not large enough to contain … how many are they?" "Four thousand, Your Grace. They will help us garrison our abandoned castles, the better to defend the Wall."

Numbers update! Four thousand wildlings are passing the Wall.

Most of them are not fighting men, and won't factor into the battle for Winterfell.

+.+.+

"I see you have considered all this carefully, Lord Snow. I am sure King Stannis will be pleased when he returns triumphant from his battle."

Lol, k.

You know what I would do if I triumphantly won back Winterfell, and secured a kingdom to my cause?

Burn my daughter alive to celebrate.

+.+.+

"Of course," the queen went on, "the wildlings must first acknowledge Stannis as their king and R'hllor as their god."

And here we are, face-to-face in the narrow passage. "Your Grace, forgive me. Those were not the terms that we agreed to."

The queen's face hardened. "A grievous oversight." What faint traces of warmth her voice had held vanished all at once.

Don't worry, Jon's a seasoned veteran when it comes to tense matters like this. He's got this under contr-

+.+.+

"Free folk do not kneel," Val told her.

"Then they must be knelt," the queen declared.

"Do that, Your Grace, and we will rise again at the first chance," Val promised. "Rise with blades in hand."

The queen's lips tightened, and her chin gave a small quiver. "You are insolent. I suppose that is only to be expected of a wildling. We must find you a husband who can teach you courtesy." 

Damn, you fucking suck at this, princess diplomacy.

+.+.+

"Your Grace." Jon knelt again. This time Val did not join him. "I am sorry my actions have displeased you. I did as I thought best. Do I have your leave to go?"

I would have liked to see him reflect on what a dumbass princess fumble is, but I understand I can't have everything.

Or maybe I can ...

+.+.+

Once outside and well away from the queen's men, Val gave vent to her wroth. "You lied about her beard. That one has more hair on her chin than I have between my legs. And the daughter … her face …"

"Greyscale."

"The grey death is what we call it."

"It is not always mortal in children."

"North of the Wall it is. Hemlock is a sure cure, but a pillow or a blade will work as well. If I had given birth to that poor child, I would have given her the gift of mercy long ago."

Oh no, what's happening? Say it ain't so, princess filicide.

Surely you wouldn't kill your own child if it was unnecessary.

The curse was oft seen in children, especially in damp, cold climes. The afflicted flesh stiffened, calcified, and cracked, though the dwarf had read that greyscale's progress could be stayed by limes, mustard poultices, and scalding-hot baths (the maesters said) or by prayer, sacrifice, and fasting (the septons insisted). Then the disease passed, leaving its young victims disfigured but alive. Maesters and septons alike agreed that children marked by greyscale could never be touched by the rarer mortal form of the affliction, nor by its terrible swift cousin, the grey plague. - Tyrion V, ADWD

You should keep going, princess merciful. Nothing turns Jon on more than talk of killing kids.

+.+.+

This was a Val that Jon had never seen before. "Princess Shireen is the queen's only child."

A little too much wildling in that wildling, huh?

You've never seen any part of Val before, you banana.

+.+.+

"I pity both of them. The child is not clean."

DON'T STOP GEORGE. LEARN HIM.

+.+.+

"If Stannis wins his war, Shireen will stand as heir to the Iron Throne."

"Then I pity your Seven Kingdoms."

+.+.+

"The maesters say greyscale is not—"

"The maesters may believe what they wish. Ask a woods witch if you would know the truth. The grey death sleeps, only to wake again. The child is not clean!"

"She seems a sweet girl. You cannot know—"

"I can. You know nothing, Jon Snow." Val seized his arm. "I want the monster out of there. Him and his wet nurses. You cannot leave them in that same tower as the dead girl."

Jon shook her hand away. "She is not dead."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

+.+.+

"She is. Her mother cannot see it. Nor you, it seems. Yet death is there." She walked away from him, stopped, turned back. "I brought you Tormund Giantsbane. Bring me my monster."

Bring princess maternal the monster. She's great with children.

Death is certainly there for Shireen, but not for the reasons Val believes.

While we're on the topic of mercy killing kids, would you like to know who you're supposed to be thinking about while this conversation is taking place? ("Then I pity your Seven Kingdoms.")

"He could end his torment," Jaime said. "I would, if it were my son. It would be a mercy." - Tyrion I, AGOT

x

"Oh, don't be absurd." Cersei closed the window. "Yes, I hoped the boy would die. So did you. Even Robert thought that would have been for the best. 'We kill our horses when they break a leg, and our dogs when they go blind, but we are too weak to give the same mercy to crippled children,' he told me. He was blind himself at the time, from drink." - Jaime IX, ASOS

Yeah, this girl is totally Jon's happy ending.

+.+.+

"If I can, I will."

"Do. You owe me a debt, Jon Snow."

Jon watched her stride away. She is wrong. She must be wrong. Greyscale is not so deadly as she claims, not in children.

Shireen is fine, she's had greyscale for 11 years now.

Let's wait and see if that not deadly disease is used to justify a horrific act.

Ask a woods witch if you would know the truth. The grey death sleeps, only to wake again.

+.+.+

At four hundred feet the wind had teeth, and tore at his black cloak so it slapped noisily at the iron bars. At seven hundred it cut right through him. The Wall is mine, Jon reminded himself as the winchmen were swinging in the cage, for two more days, at least.

Close. It's yours for about another week, then you can say goodbye.

+.+.+

Both wore woolen hoods pulled down over their heads, so nothing could be seen of their faces but their eyes, but he knew Ty by the tangled rope of greasy black hair falling down his back and Owen by the sausage stuffed into the scabbard at his hip. He might have known them anyway, just by the way they stood. A good lord must know his men, his father had once told him and Robb, back at Winterfell.

I wish you'd do a better job at knowing Bowen Marsh.

+.+.+

Jon walked to the edge of the Wall and gazed down upon the killing ground where Mance Rayder's host had died. He wondered where Mance was now. Did he ever find you, little sister? Or were you just a ploy he used so I would set him free?

We're still trying to figure that one out, Jon.

+.+.+

It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Arya Underfoot. Her face was always dirty. Would she still have that little sword he'd had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl.

Arya Stark, still very much a child in the eyes of Jon Snow.

Unrelated, but did you know Shireen and Arya are the exact same age? I bet Jon knows.

+.+.+

Jon Snow flexed the fingers of his sword hand, remembering all he'd lost. Sam, you sweet fat fool, you played me a cruel jape when you made me lord commander. A lord commander has no friends.

+.+.+

Jon pointed at the lights of their campfires. "There they are. Four thousand, Tormund claims."

"Three thousand, I make them, by the fires." Bowen Marsh lived for counts and measures. "More than twice that number at Hardhome with the woods witch, we are told. And Ser Denys writes of great camps in the mountains beyond the Shadow Tower …"

Scratch that, three thousand wildings are passing the Wall. More than six thousand are at Hardhome.

Many more are in the mountains beyond the Shadow Tower. Do we know what's happening at the Shadow Tower?

+.+.+

Jon did not deny it. "Tormund says the Weeper means to try the Bridge of Skulls again."

The Old Pomegranate touched his scar. He had gotten it defending the Bridge of Skulls the last time the Weeping Man had tried to cut his way across the Gorge. "Surely the lord commander cannot mean to allow that … that demon through as well?"

"Not gladly." Jon had not forgotten the heads the Weeping Man had left him, with bloody holes where their eyes had been. Black Jack Bulwer, Hairy Hal, Garth Greyfeather. I cannot avenge them, but I will not forget their names. "But yes, my lord, him as well. We cannot pick and choose amongst the free folk, saying this one may pass, this one may not. Peace means peace for all."

[...]

"How many rangers has the Weeper killed?" asked Othell Yarwyck. "How many women has he raped or killed or stolen?"

"Three of mine own ilk," said Old Flint. "And he blinds the girls he does not take."

Similar to Daenerys and her peace deal, Jon's forced to swallow an especially difficult pill.

I'm not smart enough to tell you what should have happened.

+.+.+

"You need not trust a man to use him." Else how could I make use of all of you? "We need the Weeper, and others like him. Who knows the wild better than a wildling? Who knows our foes better than a man who has fought them?"

That's kind of unfair. They haven't done anything. Yet.

+.+.+

"Brothers should not squabble," Septon Cellador said. "Let us kneel and pray to the Crone to light our way to wisdom."

George mocking "thoughts and prayers" before it became a thing.

+.+.+

"Lord Snow," said The Norrey, "where do you mean to put these wildlings o' yours? Not on my lands, I hope."

"Aye," declared Old Flint. "You want them in the Gift, that's your folly, but see they don't wander off or I'll send you back their heads. Winter is nigh, I want no more mouths to feed."

I think it was paramount he involve these two in the negotiations.

The Night's Watch relies on the support of noble houses, especially northern houses.

+.+.+

"The wildlings will remain upon the Wall," Jon assured them. "Most will be housed in one of our abandoned castles." The Watch now had garrisons at Icemark, Long Barrow, Sable Hall, Greyguard, and Deep Lake, all badly undermanned, but ten castles still stood empty and abandoned. "Men with wives and children, all orphan girls and any orphan boys below the age of ten, old women, widowed mothers, any woman who does not care to fight. The spearwives we'll send to Long Barrow to join their sisters, single men to the other forts we've reopened. Those who take the black will remain here, or be posted to Eastwatch or the Shadow Tower. Tormund will take Oakenshield as his seat, to keep him close at hand."

Tormund Oakenshield. Can someone tell me if Thorin Oakenshield ever blows a horn?

I'm not sure these castles survive the Wall falling. They have to go somewhere else.

You want them in the Gift, that's your folly

+.+.+

Bowen Marsh sighed. "If they do not slay us with their swords, they will do so with their mouths. Pray, how does the lord commander propose to feed Tormund and his thousands?"

Jon had anticipated that question. "Through Eastwatch. We will bring in food by ship, as much as might be required. From the riverlands and the stormlands and the Vale of Arryn, from Dorne and the Reach, across the narrow sea from the Free Cities."

"And this food will be paid for … how, if I may ask?"

With gold, from the Iron Bank of Braavos, Jon might have replied. Instead he said, "I have agreed that the free folk may keep their furs and pelts. They will need those for warmth when winter comes. All other wealth they must surrender. Gold and silver, amber, gemstones, carvings, anything of value. We will ship it all across the narrow sea to be sold in the Free Cities."

"All the wealth o' the wildlings," said The Norrey. "That should buy you a bushel o' barleycorn. Two bushels, might be."

SAY THAT. TELL THEM.

Like, almost every insurrection happens because of food scarcity in this series. Please tell them you have money to buy food.

+.+.+

"Lord Commander, why not demand that the wildlings give up their arms as well?" asked Clydas.

Leathers laughed at that. "You want the free folk to fight beside you against the common foe. How are we to do that without arms? Would you have us throw snowballs at the wights? Or will you give us sticks to hit them with?"

The arms most wildlings carry are little more than sticks, thought Jon. 

SAY THE QUIET PART OUT LOUD.

+.+.+

"Tormund has given me his oath. He will serve with us until the spring. The Weeper and their other captains will swear the same or we will not let them pass."

Old Flint shook his head. "They will betray us."

"The Weeper's word is worthless," said Othell Yarwyck.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think we get another update on the Weeper in this book. I don't think he's passed the Wall.

+.+.+

"The gods of the North, since before this Wall was raised," said Jon. "Those are the gods that Tormund swore by. He will keep his word. I know him, as I knew Mance Rayder. I marched with them for a time, you may recall."

"I had not forgotten," said the Lord Steward.

No, thought Jon, I did not think you had.

What possessed him to bring that up?

+.+.+

"It is not their children who concern us. We fear the fathers, not the sons."

"As do I. So I insisted upon hostages." I am not the trusting fool you take me for … nor am I half wildling, no matter what you believe. "One hundred boys between the ages of eight and sixteen. A son from each of their chiefs and captains, the rest chosen by lot. The boys will serve as pages and squires, freeing our own men for other duties. Some may choose to take the black one day. Queerer things have happened. The rest will stand hostage for the loyalty of their sires."

The northmen glanced at one another. "Hostages," mused The Norrey. "Tormund has agreed to this?"

It was that, or watch his people die. "My blood price, he called it," said Jon Snow, "but he will pay."

Maybe lead with this next time.

Can't say I'm a big fan of child hostages.

We're going to hope this doesn't go to hell once Jon's killed. If I had to guess, I'd say the Meereen hostages both sides hold are in a lot greater danger.

+.+.+

"None but them whose sires displeased the Kings o' Winter," said The Norrey. "Those came home shorter by a head. So you tell me, boy … if these wildling friends o' yours prove false, do you have the belly to do what needs be done?"

Ask Janos Slynt. "Tormund Giantsbane knows better than to try me. I may seem a green boy in your eyes, Lord Norrey, but I am still a son of Eddard Stark."

Janos Slynt wasn't an innocent child, tough guy.

+.+.+

Marsh flushed a deeper shade of red. "The lord commander must pardon my bluntness, but I have no softer way to say this. What you propose is nothing less than treason. For eight thousand years the men of the Night's Watch have stood upon the Wall and fought these wildlings. Now you mean to let them pass, to shelter them in our castles, to feed them and clothe them and teach them how to fight. Lord Snow, must I remind you? You swore an oath."

"I know what I swore." Jon said the words. "I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. Were those the same words you said when you took your vows?"

"They were. As the lord commander knows."

"Are you certain that I have not forgotten some? The ones about the king and his laws, and how we must defend every foot of his land and cling to each ruined castle? How does that part go?" Jon waited for an answer. None came. "I am the shield that guards the realms of men. Those are the words. So tell me, my lord—what are these wildlings, if not men?"

Bowen Marsh opened his mouth. No words came out. A flush crept up his neck.

That's a great point, but I wouldn't have been so sassy about it.

To be fair, I know what happens.

+.+.+

Outside the day was bright and cloudless. The sun had returned to the sky after a fortnight's absence, and to the south the Wall rose blue-white and glittering. There was a saying Jon had heard from the older men at Castle Black: the Wall has more moods than Mad King Aerys, they'd say, or sometimes, the Wall has more moods than a woman. On cloudy days it looked to be white rock. On moonless nights it was as black as coal. In snowstorms it seemed carved of snow. But on days like this, there was no mistaking it for anything but ice. On days like this the Wall shimmered bright as a septon's crystal, every crack and crevasse limned by sunlight, as frozen rainbows danced and died behind translucent ripples. On days like this the Wall was beautiful.

x

Jon Snow turned away. The last light of the sun had begun to fade. He watched the cracks along the Wall go from red to grey to black, from streaks of fire to rivers of black ice. Down below, Lady Melisandre would be lighting her nightfire and chanting, Lord of Light, defend us, for the night is dark and full of terrors.

The beginning and end of the chapter. The Wall is doing symbolism again.

+.+.+

"Winter is coming," Jon said at last, breaking the awkward silence, "and with it the white walkers. The Wall is where we stop them. The Wall was made to stop them … but the Wall must be manned. This discussion is at an end. We have much to do before the gate is opened. Tormund and his people will need to be fed and clothed and housed. Some are sick and will need nursing. Those will fall to you, Clydas. Save as many as you can."

[...]

"Lord Bowen, you shall collect the tolls. The gold and silver, the amber, the torques and armbands and necklaces. Sort it all, count it, see that it reaches Eastwatch safely."

"Yes, Lord Snow," said Bowen Marsh.

And Jon thought, "Ice," she said, "and daggers in the dark. Blood frozen red and hard, and naked steel." His sword hand flexed. The wind was rising.

What's the point of remembering those words if you're not going to do anything about it?

Final thoughts:

Often imitated, never duplicated.

That's what happens when you expect a cheap knockoff to do the job of a real princess.

-> return to menu <-

[conjuremanj]

Buying Your Graveyard Dirt.

O, yeah, Graveyard Dirt ... the magical ingredient that so many authors of modern "magic" books might get wrong.

Graveyard Dirt is, plain and simply, dirt that is bought from a grave respectfully and ethically to be used in magical workings with the the assistance and the power of a spirit and spirit world.

"Graveyard Dirt Carries With It The Ability To Work With Spirits By Thinning The Vail"

Some authors have claimed that graveyard dirt is either ground patchouli or ground up mullein. This is false based on their own European systems.

But Whose Graveyard Dirt Do You Use? Of your doing a specific working then picking the right grave is important, you want to choose the right spirit for the right job.

DON'T BELIEVE This: 'Some say to use the graveyard dirt of a very young child because they are easily manipulated to do your bidding. That's writing on Lucky Mojo site. But I'm here to tell you NO real root worker is using anything from a kids grave. Let them rest...

But the important thing to remember learn and do the workings right to accomplish your golds correctly. You don't want a soldier working to get you your perfect mate or lover. Just as you wouldn't want to have the spirit of your mom to help curse someone.

Consider These Examples:

Using the graveyard dirt of a lawyer to win a Court Case.

Using the graveyard dirt of a detective or police officer to expose and put away a criminal.

Using a family members graveyard dirt to help with finding your partner.

Using graveyard dirt from a doctor to help you overcome illness.

This type of dirt from these human spirits will in hance your work but find the right spirit.

How to obtain Graveyard Dirt:

Graveyard Dirt must be purchased. (not just dug up ) rather it's from a specific grave or just anywhere.

Supplies Needed:

Something to put the dirt in.

A small bottle of alcohol or florida water. (not everyone like alcohol)

Any silver coins (get a few)

Flowers (if your going to a specific grave)

A candle (if your going to a specific grave)

A label or piece of paper and a pen to write with.

Process: For Obtaining The Dirt:

(Please remember to check your state law some can't go at night) As I reach the gates of the cemetery, I leave pennies in honor of the spirit who guards all cemeteries. (Some spirits don't want to move on and think there duty is to protect the graves.) Don't worry if you don't have d lot of change use what you have.

Buying the Graveyard Dirt:

Cut out a small plug in the dirt. Then reach down grab the dirt and put it in the bag. Drop the silver coins into the hole for payment. Thanking the spirit.

Give them there offering if it's liquor, pour some into the hole, and put back the plug of sod to cover the hole. (For specific grave only)

Leave the candle to burn on the headstone and place the flowers at the grave. (Check if the neighboring headstone is the individual's spouse and leave flowers there too). Leave the grave knowing that you have that spirit's assistance and his power in his grave's dirt.

Lay out the dirt on a piece of foil or towel and let it dry out for a few days. Once fully dry, sift through the dirt to remove any roots or rocks etc.

For a specific spirits grave dirt I'll I call the spirit by name to assist me. Don't command the spirit you don't control them. (Please don't disrespect the graves and the graveyard)

One last thing.....

Just to clarify, Hoodoo is based in African American folklore in the south, not Northern folklore. It is traditional to buy graveyard dirt with a coins. It is not traditional to leave food offerings if your buying.

[frestoniia]

Valentine's... a day where in the past she often opted out of showing appreciation for those around her save for the obligation chocolates she had to give out in the past to keep up appearances. This year, however she had a few obligation boxes to give out but when her thoughts come across Craig... she realized that obligation chocolates wouldn't be suitable for him.

Fast forward to the present and Gemiya is now holding out a handful of carefully crafted chocolates, wrapped in a quality clear bag with his name printed on the outside and a black and red ribbon tying it off. Along with the chocolates is a small gold foil box which housed a gift card that could work for any store he'd like.

"I had originally thought to acquire a gift card for that one fabric store but I wasn't sure if you wanted to buy something for yourself outside of sewing. Use it how you'd like. Happy Valentine's."

@vibraea

" Oh! Why, thank you, Gemiya. You really didn't have to get me anything. "

Not that he was ungrateful. Far from it! He felt quite honored to have even been thought of. With how much Gemiya already had on her plate, the fact that she took the time out of her day to get him a gift was truly touching.

" I'll make sure to use this card well. Actually, there are some non-fabric materials I've been wanting to get my hands on for a while. "

Not to mention, the chocolates housed within the plastic bag did look quite mouth-watering.

" Honestly, I'd feel a little guilty eating these all by myself. If it's not too much trouble, would you mind sharing one or two with me? I can make us some coffee that should pair quite well. "

[pictopye]

They Arrived! Man I love the smell of fresh printed paper from the BIG printers. ~__~ I ordered a base set of 50 which is A LOT for what I need, so since I have so many I'm going to see about foiling a few parts of the design to see how it looks. I'll share the results once I've done so. The interior is pretty plain, though I wrote a small piece of iambic verse based off the tale of The Oak & Holly Kings which is what the illustration is inspired by. The card also has your standard holiday well wishing on the right: (Inside Left) A Ballad of Oak and Holly In the woodland realm where nature runs free The Seasons’ Kings met for a jubilee Young Oak gilded in leaves and mirthful glee And Elder Holly’s boughs, ever-green to see

Both sought to rule and command by their own hand And clashed, from dawn till fair twilight’s last stand Reason and peace slipped past like grains of sand Causing chaos, and turmoil across the land

For Oak yearned for splendorous sunlit cheer While Holly craved serene twilights atmosphere The lady whom both loved with hearts so dear Advised they each rule, for but half a year

Neither would waver from their prideful stance In strife, no compromise to take a chance Till one fateful day ‘neath sun’s highest glance The Holly King felled Oak with one swift advance

“My Brother!” Cried the contrite Holly King As life ebbed away from Oak’s fatal sting Came then the Lady, with shroud wrap to bring Bidding Holly to rule, she took Oak to wing.

Through crisp autumn days and cold moonlit nights The Holly ruled amidst winter’s chilling bites Till Midwinter eve ‘neath brilliant star lights The Oak King returned to uptake his right.

The year now shared, the world endlessly spins As brother greets the other, a new turn begins In gleaming green and gold, or when the frost grins Their seasons continue, and love always wins

A Williams

(Inside Right) 'Wishing you and yours a joyous Yuletide season, and may happiness, light, and luck surround you in the New Year!

I do plan on formatting a few 'print at home' versions - both for folks who have access to a double-sided printer, those who don't, and fold-only versions. That way if folks would like to use these (for free) - they'll be more than welcome.

So links will be coming soon!

[aishangotome]

Chapter 10-10 The Earth Returns to Spring (大地回春)

Chapter 10-9

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The plum blossoms behind Feng Yuan's house were in full bloom. I opened the window a crack, letting the subtle fragrance drift into the room.

Feng Yuan: Princess, Lingzhou... cough cough cough cough...

Princess: The plague has passed.

I sat down beside his bed and stuffed all the documents on governing Lingzhou that he had given me back into his hands.

Princess: These strategies for governing Lingzhou, Lord Feng, please keep them for yourself for now.

Princess: I need to think about what else to add, like "How to Deal with the Aftermath of a Plague," "My Military Training in Lingzhou," "Lingzhou in Wartime," and so on.

Feng Yuan held the stack of documents and looked at me in surprise.

Feng Yuan: Han You attacked?

Princess: Not yet. It snowed heavily this year, and he's still making his way through the snow.

I looked at the thick layer of snow that had accumulated outside.

Princess: With such heavy snow, next year will surely be a bountiful one.

Princess: By the way, Lord Feng, are you feeling better? Come with me to see what Lingzhou looks like now!

I stood up and pushed the door open, stepping outside. Feng Yuan's anxious voice came from behind.

Feng Yuan: Princess! Princess—I've only just recovered... cough cough cough cough...

-

One week later.

The streets of Lingzhou had taken on a completely new look, and the joy of the plague's passing was evident on everyone's face.

Feng Yuan: It's entirely different from before.

Princess: The training grounds haven't been idle either. I've already started drilling the troops you assembled earlier.

Feng Yuan: Once the soldiers who contracted the plague have recovered, we can expand the ranks further.

Princess: Gu Zhao's troops are also getting closer and closer to Lingzhou. It's always better to be prepared than to improvise.

Feng Yuan bowed to me with a flourish.

Feng Yuan: You've worked hard these past few days, Princess!

Princess: As have you, Lord Feng.

Feng Yuan and I strolled around the city for a while and then pushed open the gates of the Princess's residence.

-

Lu Ming: What are you cutting?

Qianjin Qiu: Paper cuttings for the windows.

Lu Ming: I know they're window decorations, but what's with the design? A toad?

Zhan Yun: More like a capybara.

Qianjin Qiu: It's a golden pheasant! A golden pheasant! Hmph, it must be this red paper. It's so ugly, it's affecting my performance.

Qianjin Qiu beckoned, and Fu Fu, who was standing nearby, opened a box and took out a stack of gold foil.

Yesterday, I finally gave Qianjin Qiu a pass to enter the city. He practically ran in with barely contained excitement and grandly settled himself in the Princess's residence.

Qianjin Qiu: Let's use this instead. It would be even better if we sprinkled some gold powder on it. The more sparkle, the better, eh? Why are you covering your eyes?

Zhan Yun: My eyes hurt.

Lu Ming: All of you, be quiet! If you keep arguing, I'll give each of you a shot of anesthetic.

Zhan Yun: Isn't anesthetic supposed to be drunk?

The courtyard was noisy and chaotic. Seeing this, Feng Yuan was actually relieved.

Feng Yuan: Seeing that the Princess isn't shouldering the burden of Lingzhou alone puts my mind at ease.

Princess: Don't relax just yet. There's something I haven't told you.

Feng Yuan: What is it?

Princess: Lingzhou's treasury is empty.

Feng Yuan took a deep breath and pressed a hand to his forehead.

Qianjin Qiu: That's nothing. If the Princess is short of money, I'll give you however much you need.

Lu Ming: Everyone, quiet! Do you hear the sound of horses?

Princess: Hmm?

The moment the gates of the Princess's residence burst open, Qing Hun stepped in front of me.

Chenqi: Hyahh!!

A snow-white horse charged in through the gate, unable to stop in time, and galloped into the courtyard, kicking up a cloud of snow.

I looked at the person who suddenly appeared before me, hardly able to believe my eyes—

Princess: Chenqi?!

Chenqi: Princess Jie JIe!

Chenqi jumped down from the horse, ran to me, hugged me tightly, and spun me around.

Chenqi: I missed you so much! How are you, Princess Jie Jie? How have you been? Has anyone been bullying you? Have you missed me?

Princess: Why... Why are you here?

Amidst the confused joy, I felt several gazes directed at us from behind.

Qinghun: Princess...

Lu Ming: He hasn't let go!

Feng Yuan: Still hasn't let go.

Zhan Yun: Indeed, he hasn't let go.

Qianjin Qiu: Little Physician Lu, lend me some of your anesthetic.

Lu Ming: Remove that "little" when addressing this divine physician!

While everyone was bickering, Zhan Yun seemed unfazed and handed me a letter.

Zhan Yun: Forgive me, Princess. Young Captain Chen sent a message yesterday saying he was arriving and specifically asked to surprise you. That's why I didn't announce his arrival.

Chenqi: I came to bring my Princess Jie Jie a gift. You won't blame me, will you?

Princess: A gift?

Chenqi: I brought the Black Cloud Cavalry! They're waiting right outside the city!

Chenqi: I know what Princess Jie Jie needs most right now is troops. From now on, the Black Cloud Cavalry is at your command!

The Black Cloud Cavalry was the Chen family's most elite unit. Though not large in number, each soldier was worth a hundred ordinary men. Even the King of Nancang relied on their fighting strength.

Chenqi: So? Do you like my gift, Princess Jie Jie?

Princess: ...Did your brother send you?

Chenqi frantically made a "shh" gesture.

Chenqi: No, no, no! Don't expose me so quickly, Princess Jie Jie!

Feng Yuan: In any case, having this elite force is a godsend.

Zhan Yun: The Princess's forces have grown stronger.

Qinghun: Congratulations, Princess.

Qianjin Qiu: Yes, and we have one more person to help cut window decorations.

Chenqi: Eh—? Princess Jie Jie, who is this flamboyant, humanoid money tree and this flounder wearing a bamboo hat?!

Chenqi: Who wants to hang out with them? I want to spend time alone with Princess Jie Jie! Like we used to!

Zhan Yun: Say one more thing about someone being a flounder...

Princess: Sigh...

The winter snow was still gently falling, and the Princess's residence had returned to its usual liveliness.

-

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Chapter 10 Rumors

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[duketectivecomics]

A (Non)Comprehensive List of Reasons Why Everyone Should Vote for the Bumblebee Bats (Duke & Cass):

So first up: Duke is the ONLY member of the batfam who works during the day! Cass is far from the only one to work the night shift ofc, but she's also very well-known for being one of the few batkids who says on several occasions that she WANTS to be Batman & to carry on the mantle. She's a Major Night Bat & is in her element when working from the shadows.

More so cosmetic: their costumes complement each other and are nearly completely inverted! Duke's primarily a yellow/golden outfit with black & white accents, whereas Cass' Batgirl costume is primarily black with gold & occasional white accents.

Their most distinctive abilities also complement each other very well! Duke is also known as the only metahuman in the batfam, and one of his abilities (along with general light powers) is being able to see a few minutes into the past/future. This is especially useful for him in combat, when he can 'predict/see' his opponents moves. Similarly, Cass' greatest ability as a fighter, and a crucial part of her origin, was being raised from birth w/ no language, in an effort that 'body language' would be her 'native tongue'. She's able to read people so clearly, that she can tell what they're about to do before they do it. Notoriously, Duke's newness means that his ability isn't as useful around villains with more combat experience, and Cass' ability notoriously doesn't work as well with metas, and that's where they help each other grow! They've been shown sparring so many times in an effort to help better one another!

Another tick for them being foils is how Cass was raised by her father with the expectation to follow in his footsteps as an assassin, which she ultimately rejected. Whereas Duke only later found out after becoming a vigilante, that his bio-father is a supervillain (who then tried to tempt Duke into joining him too).

I said before and I'll say it again, they're the batfam's Apollo & Artemis and there's so many more things that I could say about their journeys as characters, as siblings, how their time on the same team helped them to grow. Hell I could bring up even smaller shit like how Cass couldn't (& refused to learn how to) read for the longest time, while one of Duke's major hobbies is being into fantasy & poetry and just!!!!

There's so many things about these two that has me constantly rotating them in my mind like rotisserie chicken, they're blorbos of all time & plz plz plz consider voting for them. They get constantly ignored or pushed aside in the batfam fandom itself, I'm honestly shocked they made it to the finals against so many odds. It would be absolutely INCREDIBLE if they won it all ;-; anyways thanks for coming to my talk, ted <3

SUN AND MOON DUO SHOWDOWN - FINALS

[sparklymuses]

❛  you just relax and let me do the rest. you deserve a break.  ❜ - Tensei to Ryukyu

CARING PROMPTS — accepting !!

★ ★  —    

❝    ... Tensei, I told you I'm fine. I just need a bit of coffee.    ❞

A cough escaped her lips as she covered her mouth with her wrist. How long had she even been couped up at her station? The days felt longer and longer as she muttered away, filing reports for damages, villain attacks, rescues and disasters.

Ryuko Tatsuma, commonly known by her hero name- Ryukyu, wasn't one to complain about peaceful days. Days of levity were sparse in the uprising of villains to gain notoriety by foiling heroes.

Even then, the dragoon hero often had to keep the bench warm due to her quirk of being more liable for damages if she couldn't watch her step. There were bureaus made to combat these incidents; the cases of people trying to hoodwink heroes for accidents did have the woman rethink her approach of how often she'd allow herself to use her quirk.

Nowadays, she has been on her computer battling legal fillings while juggling her fashion line. The heroine hadn't even realized how little she had spoken to others unrelated to work.

She was a stubborn dragon at her core with piles of expectations in the place of a horde of gold.

❝ Could you pass me that folder over there really quick? I've got hands full here, and I'll forget where I'm at if I leave again.    ❞

[amidst-wonderland]

[tv tropes: nora gray]

i tried not to put the obvious ones, like teen pregnancy but i'll probably add more to these over time.

abusive parents: by the nature of the times, and with carmen's deteriorating capacity.

addled addict: nora's an alcoholic and becomes reliant though not as reliant on cocaine as michael.

action mom: after michael leaves to the us, nora takes the kids back up to glasgow for a better life

babies make everything better: subverted. nora's life goes from upcoming stage actress partying with club dancers, to raising a son with a man she's growing to hate.

berserk button: being treated like a child, or cross her marriage (particularly in series four)

break the cutie: eilidh and for nora's it's a stark reminder of what could've been her reality.

cartwright curse: mildly subverted, nora's fate could've mirrored something much more sinister had she never married michael but that doesn't mean to say their ride was easy.

the clan: the mcleod's and taylor's (mentioned)

closet key: eilidh was nora's first romantic same-sex encounter and first sexual encounter generally.

coitus uninterrupts: polly, john, isaiah, esme and tommy - neither michael and nora are well acquainted with locks in their sex life.

collateral angst: eilidh is sent to bedlam under suspicious but obvious circumstances, nora falls back on her vices.

combat haircomb: nora never seems to be too far from something she can use whether its a lighter, hairbrush or kitchen knife.

curb stomping battle: the conks and the billy boys are consistently at each-others necks. particularly alec and jimmy mccavern.

death faked for you: polly, thomas and ada conspire against michael and nora to send michael to the us. faking nora and the kids had been killed by a rogue bottle-bomb.

deliberate values dissonance: smoking, drinking and drug abuse throughout her pregnancy.

fiery redhead: self-explanatory

foil: gina - marriage aside. gina is a poised, rich, fashionable, softly spoken american woman with a much sinister side. nora is a hot-headead, insecure loud mouth from glasgow with heart of sheer gold.

good girls avoid abortion: almost averted. nora plans on getting one before she catches polio (probably from someone on the train back down to england)

the heart: (for the mcleod's) nora is their rock, their baby who they wish to protect like she'd do the same for them.

the hedonist: very much so as a teenager when she first moved to london, then again when she and michael begin dating.

heroic blue-screen of death: when michael returns to thomas a week before christmas + when she learned of eilidh's admission she breaks ada's vase coming clean to someone she thought she could trust.

icy blue eyes: the mark of a shelby, rosalin has them.

it runs in the family: carmen was sixteen when she had the twins + colin was one of the founding members of the conks.

knight templar big brother: alec, but john takes on this role for nora especially in the early days of moving down south.

kick the dog:

campbell makes an unsavoury, off-hand comment about nora to michael.

similarly, thomas tells michael that jack nelson had made a pass at nora now that she was on her own and her kids needed a father.

mama bear: inverted ironically as polly threatens to cut off michael's hands if he ever raises them to his wife or kids, not wanting him to turn into his father.

neighbourhood friendly gangsters: despite having a violent past and the conks themselves still partaking in violence, the mcleods are not feared within their community, alec is no thomas shelby.

parental abandonment:

colin leaves when the kids are little, but carmen eventually reunites them before she then later leaves before the war.

michael is in and out of his children's lives

parental substitute:

colin's sister isabelle takes on most of the parenting after carmen is gone.

alec becomes somewhat of a father figure in place of michael for his niece and nephew

precision f-strike: a sleep-deprived nora shouts "fucking, fuck off." to thomas when tells her to get out michael's office. she does not.

pet the dog: being initially stand-offish, the shelby's are surprised with how quickly esme takes in nora, although lampshaded as nora is not a stranger esme has kindly been looking out for.

rage-breaking point: when john makes an off-hand comment about michael's affair with charlotte at nora's birthday party. seething, she storms out of the room and locks herself away. michael later finds her intoxicated on the beach after dark.

(can also be seen in kingdom come's opening)

the resenter: thomas, then gina.

violent glaswegian: nora's is lampshaded as she isn't as literally violent compared to the non-glaswegians around her and it's mainly played for laughs because she wouldn't get in anything more than a scrap, despite her claims.

alec and her father very much fit the bill though.

women are wiser: loosens as michael's arc develops. nora's a city-kid - having lived a childhood in glasgow and starting her career in london. she looks out for michael, who she still sees as a little village boy.

would hurt a child: jimmy mccavern attempts to harm george twice, almost succeeding before he is shot by michael in a bait-and-switch.

[avastyetwats]

It was Charles’s turn to talk about how the scoring system for Gymnastics worked and already it sounded very critical. Far more than fencing where all you had to do was land a hit on your opponent. Sure there was more to it than that, such as stance, movement and being unable to use your offhand, but there was still far more than went into Gymnastics. More than James thought. “Christ, that’s a lot. Think I've come in last just thinking about it." He laughs, shaking his head. But it honestly made him respect the sport, and more importantly the Gymnasts, so much more. It all made sense though, given how precise their movements and actions always were. "I've always wondered how I'd fair on the pommel horse and horizontal bar. I've got a lot of upper physical strength, but I highly doubt I'd last even five seconds on those things." He certainly wouldn't be able to do the swings and flips, that was for sure. He'd land on his ass, or worse, his face.

"If you're still genuinely interested in seeing how fencing works, then perhaps you can show me your gymnastics. Private lessons, if you will." He was serious about that, though his voice did have a bit of flirtatious tone in it. He didn't think it was too forward or bold to ask considering all the flirting they've already done and the way they were holding onto one another. The interest and attraction was clearly mutual and he was more than happy to keep it going, to explore this... chemistry between them. And the way other Olympians glanced their way was not lost on James. There would probably be some talk soon, but then again, they would probably be more concerned with their competitions. They should be, anyway.

James made mental notes of the days Charles just told him, wanting to make absolute sure he was there for at least his finals to watch him win gold. "I'll make sure my schedule is clear." He smirks, though he's serious about that. He wants to be there now more than ever. "Uh, tomorrow, actually. For the Men's Saber Individual." Yes, it was that soon. "Why I have training later this afternoon and early morning tomorrow. Starts just after 3pm." He turns the corner with him. "Then two days following, I've the individual foil." His schedule wasn't as busy as Charles's, but he was still competing in more than one. "The day between, I'm free." He looks at him again when saying that, as though offering himself if Charles, too, had any free time that day, as well. But he had quite the busy week coming.

Charles smirked at him saying his sport was exhausting. It was, but at least the performances were shorter than nine minutes. But it was a lot of pressure, only having a minute or so to display your talent. It crushed some people. Charles however lived for the adrenaline of it, for the pressure. Competing gave him that extra spark.

He was glad he’d asked James about fencing. There were plenty of things he didn’t know. He also seemed right in his assumption that Flint would enjoy explaining it to him. He’d walk with him. Hold his arm and let him talk about fencing if he wished it. Then he asked about scoring in his sport and he laughed softly. “ There’s a lot to go to it. Each sport has different rules. So let’s say we take horizontal high bar. They want to see legs together, pointed feet. They keep an eye on how close or far your release is into each move on the bar. Handstands? They want you completely vertical. Dismount has to be perfect with no extra steps or falls, and you have to salute the judges. If you’ve ever wondered about why gymnasts raise their arms and smile before and after? We’re saluting the judges. And that’s just one event. “ He squeezed his arm with a smile.

Competition was coming up soon for him. It would be spread over the next week, but men’s gun was one of the first things out of the gate this year. “ Two days I have the men’s all around. I have to do the qualifying rounds for the individual events in two days. Third day I have the all around. Then the events I shoot for I compete in the fourth and fifth days. What about you? “