#rather tame on the scope of dreams I have

[denilmo]

Last Night's Dream

(Morning of 2/23/18)

That hubby and I had a date night - or it might have been vacation sans kids - and we were at this bar & grill place that served lots of craft beers. I'm not a huge beer drinker IRL, but dream me couldn't decide between two beers so hubby was like "Just order both and try them!" Splendid idea! So I did just that.

While waiting, these two girls come in and they're really lively, talking to whoever they feel like and just being super outgoing and bubbly - dunno if it's genuine, they're fake af, or high at this point. The beer arrives and hubby and I test them out, sampling each other's as well and we're generally just having a good time (cause I learn we've renewed our vows to celebrate our anniversary and my mom has the kids for us). And then the girls make it to our table.

They start chatting and asking about the beer, so I let them try cause why not. So one girl is all "omg that's so delicious I want one!" And calls the server over to order what I have. We make light talk while she waits and they seem pretty cool. She gets her beer, manages to take a few sips, then hubby excuses himself to go to the bathroom.

When he leaves, the girls change and start picking at me, wondering why a man like that is with a woman like me - making fun of my glasses, my skin, my teeth. Then the girl dumps her beer on my head, calling me a fat pig and that I should leave cause it's disgusting having to look at me. She slams her cup down and they walk off laughing as hubby comes back. I am just stunned, like wtf, and on the verge of tears...

The staff member that saw it helps me clean up and hubby tries consoling me, but I'm just ready to go. He convinces me to stay anyway, and a bit later the girls come back through, only I disnt notice them until there's a collective gasp as they humiliate another woman. As they start walking away, I gw t to to intercept them and confront them, but a man stands up and calls them out, how he's seen them treat me that way and now his friend's girlfriend & who knows how many others. Mind you, I'm already almost there with hubby hot on my heels, as they've been stopped in their tracks.

Pulling the whiney "I don't have to listen to you" tantrum, complete with stomping feet, she turns to leave, grabbing her friend's arm. But there I am ready to confront. Instead she slinks over to hubby and tries hitting on him right in front of me. Then makes a move to grab his crotch, telling him he can do so much better when I snap. I grab her by the hair and drag her away before punching the shit out of her. I knock her over a table, literally kick her ass through the front door. I end up having to be forced away from her, and *we* get kicked out.

But the guy and his friends - including the other woman they targeted- stay with us. And we hit up other spots together with new friends. I don't remember what we did after that, but I do remember us going through a car wash in our SUV and one guy was freaking out cause he's never been through one???

So there's that at least.

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

1D Monthly Fic Roundup

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for July 2021! Below you’ll find One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​.

Happy reading!

Game Changer by @neondiamond

[Harry/Louis, 6k, Mature, tumblr post]

“Did the doctor say what was wrong with you?”

“He thought I was pregnant,” Louis scoffs. “Told me to go home and take a test, a pregnancy test, Haz. Can you imagine the nerve it takes for him to even think that?”

Harry looks lost in his thoughts for a few seconds. “Did you? Take a test, I mean?”

“Of course I didn’t.”

OR: A couple months before playing in his first long-awaited World Cup, Louis finds out he’s pregnant. Harry’s there for the ride.

(I Was Broke) You Healed Me by @fallinglikethis

[Harry/Niall, 12k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Niall Horan is an unmated pregnant omega living on his own after his alpha boyfriend leaves him. Far from his family and friends in Ireland, Niall is stuck living in a complex for Alpha/Omega bondmates, terrified every day of being found out by his landlord.As if that isn't enough, he's suffering from touch deprivation. Luckily, Niall's doctor can at least help him with that part: she prescribes Niall some cuddle sessions. It's only a little weird that the person she's prescribing him is her brother. Or maybe that's actually a little bit perfect.

The Only Pain in Pleasure is the Pleasure of the Pain by Layne Faire / @laynefaire

[Liam/Zayn, 10k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Liam had followed InZaynity, an artist's Instagram, for ages. Not only was the artist incredibly talented, his voice poured over Liam like warm honey on a winter's night, and his hands were the stuff Liam's wank dreams were made of. However, having Zayn unexpectedly arrive as the newest artist at his best friend's tattoo shop brought Liam's fantasies and reality a little too close for comfort.

Zayn Malik met his boss' friend on his first day at Fine Line Tattoos, and felt an instant attraction. Unfortunately, given Liam's unwillingness to even hold a conversation with him, Zayn was certain the feelings weren't reciprocal. Or were they?

When Liam's new tattoo design falls outside the scope of Tommo's talent, and he recommends Zayn do it, Liam reluctantly agrees. Surely he could manage to spend hours in Zayn's company without revealing his biggest secret, right? Right?

Blow Me Away by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

[Louis/Liam, 6k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis likes giving blow jobs.

He doesn't exactly get off on it – he's been with people who properly loved it, and he's not quite that into it – but he doesn't mind the feel or the taste and he really, really likes watching his partner lose it, so getting down on his knees regularly is a no brainer.

Which is why it's a bit frustrating that every time he does, Liam hauls him back up again.

Why Didn't We Make Out the Night We Met? by @berzerkshires

[Louis/Harry, 52k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis and Harry meet in an alley outside the hotel Louis is staying for the weekend. Harry introduces himself as Ed, and Louis is completely clueless. They have a relationship through text messages, phone calls, shared pictures and Facetime calls. Is a cell phone being the only source of communication enough? Will Louis ever learn that he's really talking to an international popstar? And what happens when the world is shutdown due to a wide spread virus?

I Love This Feeling (But I Hate This Part) by @lululawrence

[Harry/Louis, 7k, Not rated, tumblr post]

“Stand up.”

Harry stood up from the couch, not a moment’s delay.

“Oh my god, is that what that’s like?” Harry turned to Louis, surprise on his face. “I really thought they were somehow exaggerating, but it really is an automatic response with absolutely no thought from me behind it whatsoever.”

Louis sighed again. “You really wanna keep doing this? Have me use my alpha voice on you so you can work on resisting it?”

“Yup,” Harry said, clapping his hands and smiling. “How else am I going to be able to have any chance at reducing the power an alpha voice has on me?”

I Said It Wrong, But I Meant It Right by @lululawrence

[Liam/Nick Grimshaw, 4k, Not rated, tumblr post]

Nick was a bit of a disaster, but she was used to it.

Or so she thought. She had never known how much she could struggle just to function until the new fire lady goddess angel person winked at her.

Oh, Those Summer Nights by cherrylarry / @beelou

[Louis/Harry, 1k, General, tumblr post]

“Are you okay?” He kneels down to inspect where Harry still has his hand pressed against his head.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine.”

“My name’s Louis. Can I buy you dinner or something to make up for hitting you in the head?”

Harry crinkles his eyebrows. “Me?”

Louis chuckles. “Yes, you. If you’d like?”

“Yeah. That would be nice.” Harry smiles so that his dimples show. “I’m Harry.”

“Harry, it's a date, then." Louis grins.

An extended scene of the beginning of the movie Grease as a larry au

people fall in love in mysterious ways (maybe just the touch of a hand) by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers, @justalarryblog / Bekita, @bluecolouredlou , @beelou / cherrylarry, @thedevilinmybrain / devilinmybrain, @hershelsue / docklands, @foreverfanficaddict,@idolizingthelight / idolizingthelightt, @inlockets / loveroflou, @perfectdagger, @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 13k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Set in a world where meeting your soulmate causes a literal spark, Louis Tomlinson has no time for fate. He knows all too well the heartbreak that having a soulmate can bring and he'd rather avoid the whole affair. But, when a chance meeting with up-and-coming popstar, Harry Styles, causes the biggest electrical surge the world has ever seen, Louis must confront the truth that sometimes destiny knocks when you least expect it.

Somehow, Someway by @zanniscaramouche

[Louis/Harry, 16k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Louis Tomlinson has everything all figured out for a smooth post-graduation sailing into the perfect career in the music industry. A canceled class, a high school play, and a disarming set of dimples were not part of the plan. (Especially when they belong to a boy wearing someone else’s jacket.)

Featuring: A punk with the worst timed crush in history, that moody art kid that never shares cigarettes, the cutest pastel-pink wearing boy on the planet, and his unfortunately nice bottle-blond jock of a boyfriend.

Forts & Fortunes by @neondiamond

[Louis/Harry, 2k, General, tumblr post]

It’s finals week at uni and Harry is struggling to find a healthy balance between studying and tending to his needs. Lucky for him, Louis is there to help him out with that.

One way to reduce tension by @neondiamond

[Harry/Louis, 1k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry knows of a few ways to help Louis get rid of some pent up stress…

We Got a Call by @greenblueish / bluegreenish

[Louis/Harry, 24k, Mature, tumblr post]

“Fisher from St Peter hospital, hello. Is this Mr Tomlinson?”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow in concern. Why is the hospital calling him? Has someone he knows been in an accident? “Uh, yes?”

“Great. Your results are in. Congratulations, you’re pregnant!”

“Pregnant?” he chokes, the word almost getting caught in his throat.

“Yes, without doubt,” the woman from the hospital confirms, her voice neutral but somehow chirpy. “I recommend promptly booking an appointment with your ob/gyn to discuss how to proceed.”

"I...Yeah, I’ll talk to my … partner.”

or, the one where Louis and Harry Tomlinson are married and Louis accepts a phone call that was definitely meant for his husband.

How Long Will We Fall (Before We Can Climb) by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 860 words, General, tumblr post]

Louis' faith in Harry is unbreakable. When they get caught kissing and he is thrown out of his home forever, he has to learn to have faith in himself.

Rope, Leather and Lipstick by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 552 words, Mature, tumblr post]

Something about ropes around wrists, and tinting skin the colour of strawberry ice cream, tender and kissed by dark lips. Smudging sticky red lipstick across the slight blue shadow of veins, and assuring hands tightening knots.

Lies & Liability by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 34k, Mature, tumblr post]

Harry Styles has only three wishes when he leaves River Dane Manor to go to Town for his first season: that his sister has rented a townhouse that will provide him as many of the comforts of the country life he has grown accustomed to as possible, that he will not trip and fall when he is presented to Her Majesty the Queen, and that he will enter matrimony out of true love, no matter how favourable the match with any which alpha may be.

Sugar at Night by @brightgolden

[Harry/Louis, 33k, Explicit, tumblr post]

With a year left before he completes his degree, a wonderful fiancé, and a baby coming soon, life is going exceptionally well for Harry Styles.

But, the truth always has a way to unravel itself, doesn’t it?

So, what do you do when the person you fell in love with is not the person you thought they were?

I got myself in a mess (and without you I'm in more) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Zayn/Liam, 9k, Mature, tumblr post]

It’s not desire that has his synapses firing. It’s not the urge to jump him that makes him feel jittery.

It’s the fact that everything about this man - a nice, unassuming guy on Tinder, who studied IT and who seemed like a safe choice - screams danger. It’s the fact that Zayn has been absently touching his necklace for what feels like half the night now.

The necklace. Thank God for Lou, honestly. He’d laughed a bit, at first, when Louis had given it to him, when he’d explained all about the app that it was connected to, the emergency contacts that would be notified and sent his exact location “if you just double tap the back of the charm, see” because Louis was that friend, the mom friend, but right now? Right now Zayn will gladly take the gentle ribbing from Louis if it means he won’t have to spend another moment with this guy.

I don't care if the world knows by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Harry is fourteen when she buys her first binder. She’s been doing cosplay videos on Tiktok for a while at that point, and it seems like the logical choice. Not that there’s anything wrong with cosplaying characters of the opposite gender and not wanting to fully look like them, she’s seen plenty of wonderful creators put their own spin on characters in a way that transcends the source material, but when it comes to her own cosplays -

She just likes it to be accurate.

She likes her chest to be flat, not soft and curvy, when she’s wearing her Crowley cosplay, or when she’s transformed herself into Loki.

It’s all about the aesthetics.

∞

Over the course of a few years, Harry explores and comes to terms with gender identity.

It’s Probably Because I’ve Got a Big Lesbian Crush on You by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Harry's never really concerned herself with being part of the popular crowd. But as the new girl in school the second semester of her junior year, she finds herself unwittingly competing for Queen Bee status against high school royalty Louis Tomlinson. Maybe there's more to their rivalry than it seems.

A not-quite-Mean Girls AU

Going Green (so fucking green) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Louis/Harry, 5k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry just really loves being used, and Louis really loves Harry. Who is he to deny him?

Or: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle but make it BDSM

the next bit was spanners to my plan by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

[Louis/Nick Grimshaw, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

The first time was an accident. The second time was an accident too.

Or: Louis and Nick end up shagging on the sly, everyone sends far too many emojis and far too few words, and eventually they're going to have to sort themselves out.

Trust Me Tonight by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers

[Louis/Harry, 10k, Explicit, tumblr post]

After Harry’s eighteenth birthday, his father calls him into a meeting to say that he is to be married to Prince Louis of France in just over a week.

Harry is excited, of course. The arrangement is better than any he could’ve hoped for, with such a young, handsome and kind husband.

There is just one issue: Harry doesn’t know what happens on his nuptials, or how to get pregnant to give Louis the heir that he needs.

Can we make it any more obvious? by LouStylesHTommo / @smolhilariousbeans

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Five times the boys accidentally walked in on Harry & Louis plus one time they did it on purpose.

Aka Niall, Zayn, Liam being supportive of Lou&H sexy shenanigans.

darling just dive right in by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Zayn/Louis, 5k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Louis can’t think of a worse place to be than at the Malik estate, attending his ex boyfriend's wedding.

Shining just for you by ThoseFookin_Avacados / @hlhome28

[Harry/Louis, 1k, General, tumblr post]

For a clumsy person, Harry danced with quite the grace- spinning around Louis, billowy light robes brushing against his firm darker ones. Despite his slightly smaller build, Louis was decivingly strong, his grip on Harry's waist tight as they performed their steps in sync. Like two opposite halves of a whole, like ones reflection in the mirror, like the sun and the moon.

Part 2 of the Prompt Generator series

crown me with your heart (your love is king) by @perfectdagger

[Louis/Harry, 41k, General, tumblr post]

The universe must’ve had a field day when it decided to plan Harry’s life. There was no plausible explanation for anything that happened in his life anymore. Try as he may, he would never be able to control his life nor predict what would happen next. What were the odds that the one person he was sure he had fallen in love with but had completely let him slip out of his life, already resigned to the fact nothing could ever evolve between them due to Harry’s future with Eroda, happened to be the same person who had Harry’s future in his hand?

A The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Wedding au in which Harry is the Crown Prince of the small island of Eroda and Louis’ uncle is trying to take the throne from him, with a slight a/b/o twist and some more.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Hibiscus Kisses {2}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot Heavy, Mild Cursing, Mild Slow Burn

Words: 4.9k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Hey, hey, hey, guys! So here we are trying something different/new. I hope you enjoy this. 🤞🏽 Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗 

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Interactive**

**Slightly Pic Heavy**

Previous Chapters: 1 | 

Anyone who got up and at em’ on the first day of vacation had something to prove, and you hated them. You had nothing to prove, so you kept your ass in your room and utilized the “to cabin” service. You don’t know if it was the sound of the waves from the balcony, the lull of the ship as it pushed through the water, you being physically exhausted, or if it was your emotional exhaustion that did you in. Whatever it was, you slept until it was damn near dinner time. Even then, leaving your room was not an option.

So you called for a meal to be brought to you, snuggled into the covers, and watched the available tv channels. Not wanting to watch any movies, you decided on a channel that seemed to be a mix of the animal planet, discovery channel, and a survivalist’s dream. The program that was on was something about figuring out the difference between good food and bad food. Things like this you found interesting and always watched. It wasn’t that you planned on ever needing the information but why the hell wouldn’t you be prepared for a never possibility.

 When the food arrived, you were well into another program about common dangers on Caribbean islands that tourists would never know. Once you accepted the three reusable food bags, you buried yourself right back into the bed and surrounded yourself with everything you’d requested. You bet whoever prepared it thought it was for at least three people, but nope it was all yours. Vacation was about overindulging, right?

 A few hours later, your phone rang. Knowing your sister’s ringtone, you answered without looking at the ID.

 “You know better than not to send a message to mom before you disappear, Lulu.”

 “Disappear? Lali, I am on a huge ass ship. Where am I disappearing to?”

 “You know what I mean. You know if she hasn’t heard from you, then that’s just as good as disappearing,” Atali countered.

 Sighing, you rubbed your forehead. Your mother was a bit much sometimes.

 “I slept in.”

 “All day?”

 “All day,” you repeated.

 “Alone?”

 Kissing your teeth, you rolled your eyes and leaned back on the headboard.

 “Lali, you do know it’s me you’re talking to, right?”

 Atali giggled. “It is a vacation; excuse me for thinking you’d live a little.”

 “There is living a little and living recklessly,” you dryly responded.

 “Recklessly? Lulu, you’re the one who is sleeping with--.”

 You loudly cleared your throat, interrupting what you knew she was going to say. Atali was always good for bringing up everything you wanted to forget.

 “Jeez, Atali.”

 “Sorry, sorry.”

 You put another piece of cake into your mouth and moaned, savoring the strawberry and the smoothness of the cheesecake. You bit your bottom lip, and for some reason, your mind ran to the stranger you still had yet to get the name of.

 “Met anyone on board?”

 “Lali, I didn’t come here to meet anyone.”

 “I know, but you still could have—in passing.”

 You sighed and went over the details of his face. You really didn’t like men with that much facial hair, but it fit him well and easily made him look younger than he quite possibly was.

 “What’s his name?”

 “I don’t know his name, and he doesn’t matter. I did meet a woman.”

 “Woman? You’ve been gone a day and already experimenting?”

 You smiled and shook your head. “Shut up. Listen, she’s really cool. Her stories are classic, and she does her makeup like a goddess. You would like her, Lali.”

 “She’s an older woman, isn’t she?”

 “Yeah, so what?”

 “You always attract these old-young souls.”

 The two of you giggled together, but it went on for longer than just a few seconds. When you sighed out and leaned back against the headboard, you again thought of him.

 “What’s your first port?”

 “Dominican Republic, then Turks & Caicos, the British Virgin Islands after that then Aruba and Jamaica.”

 “Jeez, you’re living life,” Atali commented.

 “You have no idea. You should see this ship. They went all out times two with it. It’s just absolute luxury everywhere. I said pick me a ship. I didn’t say give me the Cleopatra treatment.”

 “You knew what you were getting into when you asked me to do it,” Atali replied. “By the way, isn’t BVI and Turks and Caicos pretty close to Bermuda?”

 Taking a moment to think about it, you responded, “Yeah. So?”

 “So? Lulu, Bermuda,” Atali repeated.

 When you didn’t speak immediately, she continued. “The Bermuda Triangle, dummy.”

 Kissing your teeth, you rolled your eyes, “Oh god, you cannot be serious.”

 “I am. Have you never heard that ships get lost and disappear in that area?”

 “Lali, I’m sure there is a scientific explanation, and I am also sure that no one would charter a course near somewhere that they’d get lost, especially with hundreds of passengers,” you finished, confidant in your response.

 The two of you talked for almost an hour before she was urging you to get out of your room and go to one of the clubs on the ship. You protested, but you knew she would not shut up about it, so you gave in though you had no interest in actually going. You spent the next hour going back and forth with your options. Most of you wanted to stay in bed or sit on the balcony and just get lost in the view, while the other knew that you’d only think of Javii if you did that.

 Following a shower, you scanned your clothes. Once you found a cute dress, then applied a lite layer of makeup and did your hair, choosing to leave it down rather than putting it in a cute bun. Five or ten minutes later, you were standing in front of the entrance to one of the clubs—Jewel. The music from inside was lively, and you could imagine the number of young bodies pressing against each other, seeking a cheap thrill. Glancing from left to right, you decided to bite the bullet.

As soon as you stepped inside, you didn’t feel like you were on a ship in the middle of the ocean. It felt like it was a well established nightclub on solid ground. Whoever the DJ was, they were doing their thing, and it was evident from the bodies that littered the floor. It looked like this was where the parents came when their kids were tucked away in bed cuddling Tiana and Jasmine close. You walked through the crowds and saw plenty of couples making out and sharing drinks. Never again would you think to sleep on a Disney cruise. You thought it would be a chill time, but damn this was like parents gone wild.

 After a few minutes of walking around and scoping things out, you found a place at one of the three bars.

 “First Disney cruise?”

 Snapping your head around, you looked at a smiling bartender with long hair that was piled on top of his head in a neat man bun.

 “That obvious?”

 “Let me guess, you expected tame, princess sing-a-longs, virgin pina coladas, and plenty of mickey mouse.”

 The look on your face must have given you away because he was laughing a few seconds after he said it. You snorted and shook your head as you rearranged your dress and recrossed your legs.

 “Fine, you got me.”

 “It’s okay. I get how you’d think it was a tame little adventure. Why do you think we get so many reservations?”

 “I thought it was for the kids,” you blurted out. It was his turn to laugh.

 “Silly rabbit, while Disney is for kids, what happens after those kids lay their pretty little heads is a whole other story.”

 Glancing around once more, you made a mental note never to make the mistake again. Disney cruises were probably as raunchy as Carnival or those geared toward singles. At that thought, you began to wonder how many swingers were on board, and if this was a swinger’s playground.

 “What can I get you?”

 “Something strong so my innocent mind can adjust.”

 The bartender chuckled to himself as he walked around, preparing your drink. You bopped to the music and looked around again. Now it made sense to you when the mom of two who was preggo with her third said these cruises always gave her just what she needed. You bet they did—three fucking kids. Your mind was blown.

 When the bartender slid your drink to you, he smiled and slipped away to serve the others. That was when you turned back around to people watch. There was no way you were going to dance with any of them. after a few sips of your drink, you saw him across the way. He was sitting at one of the other bars watching the dancefloor as you were. His hat was gone, and it showed you that his hair was long. The lights were too dim to make out much else, but what you couldn’t make out, you quickly filled in from your other encounter.

 Before you realized your glass was empty, your eyes met and lingered on each other for several long moments. The only reason you looked away was because of the passing people who got in the way. When you looked back, his eyes weren’t on yours anymore, they were looking lower, but it was unclear if he was looking at you or someone on the dancefloor. Shaking it off, you spun around and requested another drink.

 As you waited, you scrolled through your phone and did your best to fight the urge to check his social media. Javii wasn’t huge on social media. He preferred to have his team handle his brand's social side, but he did have a secret one that not many knew about. There he posted things that interested him, showed his lifestyle and his passions. It was also where he posted his “thirst traps.” You knew that if you went on, you’d find one or two, and you knew the caption was going to be code for you. You doubted you were mentally prepared enough for that psychological minefield.

 “What can I get you, sir?”

 “Another beer, please.”

The deep voice beside you had your finger pausing before you tapped the circle with Javii’s picture that indicated he’d made a new story. When you looked next to you there, he was again. The dim and colored lights in the room gave you a new appreciation of his eyes. It was at this moment you knew he got a lot of attention from women. With eyes like those, how could he not? He looked at you and smiled, and that sold it for you. His teeth were perfect, and though his smile made the wrinkles at the sides of his eyes more prominent, it also made his face light up. He looked like a kind man--a gentle one perhaps.

 “Either you’re following me around, or we’d call this fate.”

 You couldn’t help but smile. The cocky on him was so strong. It was a familiar cocky.

 “Or you’re following me around. You’re the one who bumped into me twice,” you countered.

 “Eh, I was the one doing the catching, so it’s more feasible that you’re following me.”

 He wore a soft grin, one that you mirrored.

 “Maybe if you weren’t like a brick wall, you wouldn’t have to catch me.”

 “I’m not complaining,” he responded. You stared at him and quickly got his meaning. Again, you couldn’t help but smile. Not only was he cocky, but he was charming, you thought.

 You finished your drink with one raise of your hand. When you lowered your glass, you watched as he raked his fingers through his hair, bringing it full out of his face. It was then you recognized him.

 “Oh my god.”

 “What?”

 “Now I know where I’ve seen you from.”

 He looked confused. “Now? You didn’t know this whole time?”

 “No. You looked familiar, but I couldn’t place you.”

 The look on his face was a lite one. He softly scoffed and raised his bottle to his head, and took a few gulps of his beer. When he lowered it, he spoke again.

 “That’s refreshing. I’m not used to people not recognizing me.”

 “That must suck. I couldn’t imagine living my life under suck a microscope,” you said without thinking. When you realized what you’d said, you glanced at him and tried to backtrack.

 “Uh—what I mean is--.”

 He smiled and shook his head. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. I’m Chris,” he replied, holding out his hand to you. When you touched his hand, you were surprised by how soft they were. He’d never used them for manual labor a day in his life, you thought.

 “Ajali,” you responded.

 “Aja—li, he slowly repeated, trying to mirror how you said it.

 “Yes.”

 “Wow, that’s a beautiful name, very unique,” Chris noted.

 “Thank you.”

 “What do your friends call you, Aja?”

 You looked at him after raising your hand to the bartender, signaling you’d like another.

 “Why? Are we friends?”

 Chris smiled and dipped his head down, making his hair fall into his face. He looked good with long hair and this grizzly beard combo. Again, he raked his fingers through his hair before he looked at you.

 “We can be. We can be good friends if you like.”

 Searching his eyes, you tried to find evidence in there to match the flirtatious tone of his voice.

 “What if my husband isn’t into that?”

 Chris smiled and turned his body to you. “You don’t have a husband. From the first time we bumped into each other, I noticed you’re not wearing a wedding ring, nor do you have any tan lines to signify you’re hiding one.”

 Raising your eyebrow, you allowed his words to sink in. “I could have--,” you began.

 “—Kids? Nah, you were alone the first time outside and again on the deck when I passed you and the night in the dining room and even at the show.”

 He’d been watching you.

 “No, I’m not stalking you, I promise,” Chris quickly spoke up. “Plus, even if you had kids, it wouldn’t matter. I like kids—they like me.”

 The two of you sat in silence for a few moments. When you got your drink, you took a long sip.

 “So you’re alone here on this family Disney cruise. That alone deserves a question,” Chris continued.

 “It does. You’re also alone on this same family Disney cruise,” you countered. Chris nodded and took another sip of his beer before he leaned closer to you.

 “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he whispered.

 There was no way you were going to divulge personal information to a stranger, no matter if he were Captain America. You spun to face him, then uncrossed your legs to recross them. His eyes dropped to your thighs, and that told you what you needed to know. He was on this cruise for hookups. Scoffing, you finished your drink.

 “Your eyes just told me yours.” You slipped off the barstool and stood before him, leaning in just a little. “I hear Disney cruises are the place to be for after dark entanglements, and you’re in the right place. Have a good night.”

 You walked away, not giving him a chance to respond. Instead of moving to another bar, you decided to leave. You’d heard plenty of rumors and stories of Chris Evans and his booty calls, and you were not impressed. He was clearly here for easy, strings free sex. You’d heard more than you needed to about how he met his hook up buddies and just not was textbook. You were not here to be another notch in his bedpost.

  -The Next Day-

-The Dominican Republic, 11:10 am

As you walked through the ship, everyone was abuzz with excitement for the first port. You were also excited but not to disembark like everyone else. You’d been to the Dominican Republic plenty of times and had no intention of going out today. You had a plan, and it was to soak up the quiet and empty ship. You wanted to get a spa treatment, a massage, and soak in the hot tub or the steam room and allow the essential oils to work their magic on the tension coursing through your body.

 “Attention passengers, we are officially docked. I’d like to be the first to welcome you to the beautiful Dominican Republic. As you disembark, a reminder that we will be leaving port promptly at ten o'clock. Please be on time, ladies and gentlemen, and enjoy your days.”

 While everyone was walking in one direction, you were walking in the opposite. Everyone was decked out in their beachwear and sunscreen, and you could tell these kids planned on swimming every inch of that beach. The ride on the elevator was a quick one because you were going lower than everyone else. The spa was on the first level below water. The pamphlet advertised it as being one with the sea thanks to the unmatched view of the ocean and life under the sea. You were excited.

 Once you got to the spa entrance, you smiled, seeing that it was completely empty.

 “Welcome to Aqua Spa. My name is Vikki.”

 “Hi. Am I the only one?”

 “You are the first here. Between you and me, I don’t expect many guests being the first port and all,” the blond wearing a sea blue uniform said.

 “Excellent.”

 “Have you reserved?”

 “Yes, Ajali Rambaue.”

 You watched her scan the computer screen before her. It didn’t take her long to smile again.

 “Ms. Rambaue, welcome. I see you’ve booked the clearing treatment, a gold facial followed by the milk and rose oil bath,” Nikki listed.

 Just her listing off your treats had you even more excited. Nodding, you confirmed. She returned your smile and ushered you through the spa. You could already see the blue hue from the portholes, and it bathed the entire spa in the same blue. It felt as if you were gliding underwater, completely immersed with the other creatures.

 “Right this way.” You followed her into the room and gasped. The entire room was completely blue, and the sight before you through the clear window was breathtaking.

 “Incredible, isn’t it? I guess you can see why they named her Enchantment.”

 Maybe Lali’s splurge wasn’t so bad, you thought.

 “So, the clearing treatment is an intricate one. You can change behind this screen as I prepare the room for you and your therapist,” Nikki explained.

 You stepped behind the glass screen that immediately frosted once you were behind it, then began undressing and listened to her explain the treatment.

 “Not only is it an incredible treatment, but it stretches to about three hours from start to finish. World-renowned masseuses and acupuncturist Jadenna Sole designed it. He aimed for it to restore the body’s balance. It does this through a mixture of Eastern and European techniques.”

When you stepped out, you were wrapped in the towel and sighed, seeing the newly lit candles that warmed the room. If you were doing a couple’s massage, this would have been the perfect atmosphere.

 “It begins with a full-body exfoliation with sea salt and Indian Kama oil. After your therapist will perform a lymph system massage, and that will prep the body for your Swedish massage. After that, then your body will be wrapped in neem black clay, and you’ll sit and allow it to seep into your pores. Then you’ll rinse and sit in your milk and rose oil bath to then rinse again, and the finishing touch would be an intricate blend of oils and herbs rubbed into your skin that will help your chakras realign,” Nikki finished.

 You were impressed as hell. You’d never expect a treatment like this on a cruise. It was more something for Manhattan among the rich. As you got comfortable on the table, you could hardly contain your excitement. When your massage therapist arrived and introduced herself as Marta, you prepared yourself to be shot into space. Massages were your thing. Lali joked that massages were your love language.

 When Marta began the exfoliation process, it was relaxing enough for you to nearly fall asleep. You hadn’t realized how tense you were these last few days. You blamed Javii. It was all his fault. After twenty or so minutes, Marta rinsed you then really got started with the massage, all the while putting her back into it. She was a lot stronger than she looked. The pressure was perfect, and the scents from the oils were sublime. In no time, you were drifting from the ground into the sky.

 After an hour, your mind was completely blank, and the knot between your shoulder blades was nearly gone. Marta made a few comments on how tense your muscles were and gave pointers on how to prevent locked muscles. You listened as she spoke and tried to retain the information, but you were too distracted with how relaxed you felt. By the time two hours had passed, your muscles were putty, and Marta was now on your gold facial.

 This wasn’t the first time you’d gotten one. You and Lali often got them together as part of your sisters day. They were good for your complexion and elasticity. Your mother often stressed that collagen loved you when you were young but liked to play hide and seek the older you got and that you should cherish it and do all you could to maintain your healthy skin. You and Lali listened. After Marta finished applying the mask, you laid back and listened to the sounds of the classical music playing and drifted off to sleep.

 When you awoke, it was time to wipe the concoction off and dip into your milk and rose oil bath. The warmth of the mixture had you moaning. There was something so luxurious about lounging in milk like you were an Egyptian queen that had you feeling like a boss. The mask that was applied to your hair was slowly hardening, so you fought the urge to dip your head back. Instead, you leaned back onto the cushions and sighed again.

The silence in the room was just what you needed. Any stress you’d been feeling was a distant memory now. This was just what you needed, you thought.

 “Who knew milk and rose oil could be so relaxing.”

 Your eyes snapped open as you looked from side to side, trying to see if someone was beside you. The tub pods were empty, and from what you could see, you were alone.

 “I’m glad I took Nikki’s recommendation for this over the peppermint soak,” the voice spoke again. You recognized it. Spinning around, you saw a bare back behind yours. He was close enough to touch.

 Chris turned around to face you. His face was painted with a mask, only keeping his eyes and lips visible. You quickly forgot your state of undress, but you somehow knew of his. Your eyes dipped down to his bare shoulders and the hair that laid across his chest. You saw a peek of two and a possible third tattoo, and your curiosity piqued.

 “Fancy seeing you here, Ajali,” Chris said as his eyes dropped lower. You looked lower on yourself to see your breasts almost out of the milk enough for him to see some nipple. Quickly you sunk down and turned back around, facing your back to him.

 “What’re you doing here?”

 “Same as you.” You sighed and hugged your legs to your body.

 “Shouldn’t they have men in a separate room or something?”

 “I’ve seen a naked woman before,” Chris informed with a scoff. You turned around from the tone of his voice.

 “I bet you have. You’ve seen plenty naked women.”

 Chris turned to face you with his brows knitted together as if he fully got your meaning.

“Just what are you insinuating?”

 “It doesn’t matter.”

 “It does. Are you suggesting that I came on this cruise to sleep with unassuming women?”

 You shrugged and turned back around, keeping your back straight.

 “Wow, that’s insulting. Where do you get off?”

 You remained quiet. He must have taken your silence as more judgment because he spoke again.

 “I didn’t come on this cruise to snake myself into someone’s bed. I came because I needed a change of pace, some breathing room. Hollywood gets confining, and the more confining it gets, the more I feel like I’m—suffocating.”

 Slowly you turned to look at him. His back was turned so you trailed your eyes over the exposed skin of his back and saw peeks of more tattoos. The man was getting sexier with each passing minute. His shoulders were broad and looked incredibly strong. The low light in the room didn’t help you see anything else, but you could more than imagine everything else.

 “So, the confines of a ship wouldn’t feel suffocating?”

 Chris turned to look at you.

 “There is Hollywood confinement and this. This is not confinement. I have freedom here; I’m not watched like a hawk. Yeah, someone will recognize me here or there, but they are so respectful. For the most part, it is always quick. Plus, I don’t mind talking to the kids.”

 This was the second time he brought up kids, you thought.

 “Plus, now I’ve met someone who seems to have no problem telling me I’m a whore.”

 Immediately you snorted loudly then laughed. “I never called you that.”

 “Hinted at it is just the same as saying the words,” Chris accused.

 You smiled and sighed, and your eyes lingered on his.

 “It’s refreshing again. A lot of women will say what they think I want to hear or be how they think I want them to be.

 “Not me.”

 “Not you.”

 It was said in unison. Once both of you realized what you’d said, you laughed together.

 “It must be something having women fawn all over you.”

 Chris shrugged, and again your eyes fell to his shoulders, and that is where they remained.

 “Something is the word. It gets old, though—real quick.”

 When your eyes met again, he held your gaze. “I’m sure men fawn all over you too.”

 You took a deep breath and sighed out. “I’m sure they don’t.”

 Chris snorted and gave you a “yeah right” look.

 “I’m sure you’re full of shit. You’re a beautiful woman.” His eyes dropped below your face again, but they quickly came back up.

 You turned your back to him again and stared into the milk and oil concoction. He wasn’t wrong, though he wasn’t right either. Men didn’t fawn over you. Yeah, you got attention from men a lot but to go as far as saying they fawned over you was a stretch. You didn’t notice any man besides Javii for the last three years.

 “This is supposed to be a relaxing spa day for me. Maybe we should cut the talking out and just enjoy the rest of it,” you suggested, a little salty he’d reminded you of what you’d come to forget.

 “Sure thing,” Chris softly answered.

 The two of you remained in your separate bath pods without speaking one more word. However, you were aware of his body and every move he made. His body gave off this energy that felt like your body reached out for. So instead of fully relaxing, you’d spent the time fighting the sway of your body or the urge to slink closer.

 An hour later, you were in your clothes again and feeling ten times better than when you’d walked in. You thanked the staff and gave a generous tip, then left. When you got into the elevator, you leaned on the wall and sighed. As the doors closed, a hand stretched out, preventing it from closing. Chris then stepped onto the elevator with that stupid grin.

 “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he joked as he pressed the six that was already lit up.

 “Is six your floor too?”

 “Maybe.” He nodded and leaned on the wall beside you.

 The two of you rode the elevator and looked outside the glass enclosure to the ship and even the ocean outside.

 “They did a fantastic job with the ship. Even though you’re not on an island right now, you feel like it’s still a tropical vacation.”

 You nodded, agreeing with him.

 “Do you come on Disney cruises often?”

 You shook your head. “No. This is a first.”

 Chris lit up and smiled widely. “Wow. It’s been a while since I’ve met a first-timer.”

 “I take it you’re not.”

 “Nope, veteran. I come on a cruise at least once a year and go to Disneyworld and land twice a year,” Chris excitedly bragged.

 “Oh, a little boy trapped in a grown man’s body,” you teased.

 Chris chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

 “Eh, nothing wrong with being a little boy.”

 “Only if you aren’t that way because you refuse to grow up,” you responded. Chris looked at you and kept his eyes there. The ding of the elevator brought your attention back to the dial.

 “Six.”

 You walked out the door, then turned left and proceeded to your room, wondering the whole way if that was a bitch thing to say. You had to learn to censor, you thought as you scanned your wrist and stepped into your room. Peeping back, you saw Chris still walking to his room with his head dipped low as if he’d lost his best friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[luuurien]

Boris - W

(Post-Rock, Drone Metal, Experimental Rock)

Boris' latest album doesn't bring their classic, velvety drone metal to the new decade in any kind of exciting way. Electronic elements find themselves rather off-putting and environment-breaking, while their massive guitar work never finds itself in a comfortable enough spot to build towards a powerful center point. W, for all intents and purposes, is a botched reintroduction of their classic sound.

☆☆½

You know, it's hard to listen to W and not fall in love with its individual elements. Since the late 90s, Boris has consistently been at the forefront of drone and noise rock's innovation, releasing albums that were not only surreal and mind-altering, but compositionally rich and highly creative.  No band can ever live up to their best works, but listening to W brings your mind to some of their finest works: the massive post-metal masterpiece Boris at Last - Feedbacker and glitch-lined Heavy Rocks especially. All the ground they tread on W has been explored in one way or another by the band before, so it's critical they do something unique with it or there's nothing to set it apart. And Boris does some pretty exciting new things on W - the only problem being that they're not done all that well. They lean further into the softer sounds of dream pop that would sometimes pop into their more shoegazey tracks, and a more full-scope embrace of electronics allows songs like the icy minimal wave jam Icelina the chance to exist. This is all fine, and the highlights on the album show they can take this brighter sound and do some wonderful things with it, but Boris so often is concerned with getting these songs up and running in the first place that they forget to actually make them enjoyable in the process. Album singles Drowning by Numbers and Beyond Good and Evil find themselves prime examples of this expanded sound done poorly and done well. Beyond Good and Evil is one of their best tracks in years, borrowing the massive dynamic changes that defined their post-rock records in the 2000s and using icy-cool chords and Wata's soft singing voice to invoke the wrath of a sleeping sea. Guitars churn like oil being burned in a submarine; a sharp guitar lead adds some darker colors to this dream world. Drowning by Numbers, ironically, is so by-the-numbers that it's almost funny to hear them this cut-and-dry. They've worked with artists like Merzbow and Sunn O))) before, why in the world are the industrial elements in the percussion so tame? The guitars can't decide whether they want to be dissonant and venomous or a soft landing pad for everything else. The funky bassline from Takeshi is so out of place I have no clue what would have gotten it here in the first place. That's the issue at large with W: nothing ever feels like it has a reason to exist. Icelina, for how lazily it throws its synthetic elements on top with lifeless, sort-of-surreal keyboards and an agonizingly dead-eyed drum pattern with zero depth in any way whatsoever, at least takes a risk in throwing Boris into uncharted territory. The least that tracks here like The Fallen or You Will Know could do with its sunnier elements is see where they might take the band. Instead, they meander, You Will Know reaching the same quarter-climax so many times that you might as well just loop the first two minutes five times in order to get the same experience. Nothing special is present on W, the album's best moments are the ones where the band lets things be simple for once. Knowing the album is a companion piece to their previous full-length album No, it's even harder to tell what the concept behind W is. With the former album being a crusty, bloodstained thrash metal release, W could be showing off Boris' softer side, but they play with harsh elements too often to sink you into that wistful atmosphere. They don't dedicate themselves to a cause like on previous albums, and throw themselves in so many directions that none of them are of any importance. Really, W bores more than it disappoints, and deciding which is the bigger issue comes down to how much you can tolerate 42 minutes of empty calories.

[secret-engima]

I’ve had a bad day so... anything about any of your rwby aus you wanna share? ❤️

Awwww, I’m sorry to hear that Anon! Would a few snips help? I think I have a few snips around here somewhere *dives into doc* *reemerges* I come bearing snips! I apologize that most of them are angsty! But I have what I have ^^;

Always I Dreamed:

     “You don’t actually have a plan do you?” Raven hissed to Summer as they pressed their backs against the same piece of cover, trying to catch their breath.

     Summer leaned around the corner, snapped off a shot to keep the Grimm from punching Qrow off the cliff, “I do! It’s just a work in progress! And it would have been a lot easier if that pillar hadn’t crumbled the wrong way.”

     Raven knew what was likely to blame for that, but didn’t bother to say, “Pro tip? If you can think of some way for your plan to go really, stupidly wrong, assume it will and have a backup plan.”

     They rolled away from cover and dodged the rock fragments as the Grimm angrily shattered the stone they had been hiding behind, Summer snapped off another shot without looking through her scope and made a face, “Well I don’t see you coming up with any ideas!”

     “I’m not the one who insisted she had a plan.”

     Taiyang slammed his feet down onto the Grimm’s head from where he’d jumped off a high ruin, front flipped off its skull with another hard kick, and rolled under it’s answering fist, “Well you’re one of the people who might die without one, so maybe give it a shot?”

...

Wolfcury (in which Taiyang attempts to tame a smol child large wolfdog:

     “Well,” Taiyang managed once his ears had stopped ringing, “that could have gone a lot better.”

     “It could have gone a lot worse too,” Summer pointed out, “he retreated rather than attacked.” They both shared a solemn look. They knew that if Taiyang had kept pushing, had gotten too close, the wolfdog would have attacked him. Taiyang ran a hand through his hair, he didn’t know if he could fix something that broken. A trust that shattered.

     But the wolfdog had saved Ruby, and Ruby was still asking about him every time Summer went out to check on him. He owed it to the wolfdog to at least try to salvage whatever trust the animal’s previous owner had shattered into feral terror. And if he really, genuinely couldn’t … he wasn’t looking forward to explaining that to Ruby. Or dealing with the tears and fallout that would follow. They kept trying. Summer still checked on the bandages and brought water, but Taiyang was now in charge of the food. They hoped that associating him with food would help take the initial edge off, but while the howling and snapping didn’t make a reappearance after the first time, the wolfdog still strained to stay as far away as possible, and refused to eat while he was in the shed. Taiyang decided he needed to escalate just a bit, because it was quickly becoming clear that no amount of food bribery would help if the wolfdog was too terrified by his mere existence to eat around him and get the positive association.

     Taiyang brought home some supplies, sturdy wire fencing and wood to build a dog house, and soon Summer was gently leading the wolfdog out of the shed and into his new, fenced off area of the yard while Taiyang hid in the house to keep the wolfdog from panicking. Ruby was ecstatic to finally be able to see the wolfdog, even if she wasn’t allowed inside the fenced off area or to stick her fingers through the bars. Taiyang watched from a distance, letting Summer directly monitor the “visits” of their daughters to the wolfdog through the fencing. So long as the animal didn’t know Taiyang was nearby, the change in behavior was obvious. Still skittish and a touch wild, but shyer. Gentler. He even limped up and wagged his tail at Ruby through the fencing. It was just Taiyang that he was so mindlessly terrified of, and it made Taiyang feel angry in the pit of his stomach.

     This animal had been brave enough to try to fight off a Grimm to save Ruby, and while he seemed to have no idea what to do with affection, that shyly wagging tail and ginger acceptance of dog treats through the wire fencing proved the poor thing wasn’t naturally aggressive and hateful. Someone, some man, had beaten that fear into the wolfdog, that wild-eyed hate he could see in big grey eyes whenever Taiyang came too close. People like that could get eaten by Grimm in Taiyang’s opinion, and if he ever had the luck to run into the man who had hurt this dog… He shook that thought away —not for the first time and not for the last— and put the next stage of his plan into action.

     The first time he wandered out and sat down just on the other side of the wire fencing with a lap desk and a stack of school papers to grade, the wolfdog fled to the other side with a brief, swiftly cut off scream of fear. It stayed pressed into the farthest corner of fencing the three hours Taiyang sat with his back to the fence, grading the papers of his students at Signal and listening to his daughters play. Taiyang only looked at the animal to call a soft greeting when he got there, then to call a soft goodbye when he finally got up and went inside to cook dinner.

     He repeated the ritual three more times before the wolfdog finally dared to leave the corner and instead skirt furtively around the far side of his fenced in area, watching him with his grey tail tucked tight to his belly and hackles raised in something akin to anger. Taiyang just kept grading papers and writing up schedules and working on whatever other paperwork he could find. He’d thought about doing weapon maintenance out here, but chances were high the wolfdog would know what weapons were and be even more frightened of them, so he stuck to paper tasks, or just sitting with his back to the fence for three hours watching the girls play. He did his best to keep it to the same time each day, for the same amount of time.

     Day five and he heard it creeping closer before fleeing again several times. Day seven and he briefly felt hot breath against the back of his neck before it retreated. The wolfdog stopped fleeing to the far corner when Taiyang came outside, just hunkered down wherever it happened to already be and watched him with wary eyes. Day eight and he started bringing jerky with him, sliding a piece through the wire right where he usually sat before turning around and going back to his usual routine. It took until day ten before the wolfdog actually crept up close enough to snap up the jerky and flee to a “safe” distance again.

...

Dragon Yang:

     “Yang, wait! It’s me! It’s Qrow!”

     She hesitated. Stared at him, poised to go after him again, eyes flickering red, nostrils flared. She looked like she was on the edge of either a panic attack or trying to kill him again. Her fingers flexed, then her fists lowered. He wasn’t stupid enough to think she had relaxed. Her nostrils flared again, hair rippling almost like fire, which he hadn’t known it could do before now, “…Uncle Qrow?”

     Qrow nodded, tried to pitch his voice into something soothing, “It’s me, kiddo. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that. But- Brothers, Yang, we’ve been worried sick.”

     Yang’s jaw worked, her face was almost eerily blank —like Raven at that age and older, and he didn’t like that thought or what it implied—, “Prove it.” Qrow faltered and her lips twitched like she wanted to bare her teeth at him, “Prove it. Prove you’re- that you’re my uncle.” Something bleak flickered over her face, hollow and fractured, before it was gone again, “Prove it to me.”

     Qrow dared to let go of Harbinger’s hilt. Yang was … he had no idea what had happened to her, but she looked cold and hard, scraped raw and hiding it for her own safety. Someone had torn his niece apart and molded her into something that could smash right through an experienced Huntsman’s Aura in three strikes and he seethed just thinking about it. But he couldn’t afford to be angry right now, not with Yang sizing him up as a potential enemy. So he spread his hands placatingly and scrambled for decent proof. I need a drink for this-, oh. “When you were eight, you wanted to make me a ‘welcome home’ gift. You decided to make brownies. But the house was out of milk, so instead of using tap water, you got it into your head for some reason to use the bottle of whisky that you weren’t supposed to know was under the sink. Your dad just about skinned me when he got home to find you and Ruby passed out drunk on the floor from ‘testing out’ the brownies.”

     Yang stared at him. Her hands slowly relaxed out of fists, “I was sick for the whole night and most of the day after. I hated it. Ruby kept throwing up. She was afraid to eat brownies for years after that…”

     “Because she thought they were cursed,” Qrow finished gently. Yang kept staring, expression so blank it was almost a cry for help. Qrow dared to take a step forward, “It’s me, Yang. I promise.”

     The tiniest shudder ran through her frame, like she was holding back from some greater response. She inhaled, exhaled slowly as the last of the glow faded from her hair, “I believe you.” Her voice cracked for just a moment before he saw her visibly wrestle it back under control, “I believe you.”

     Qrow dared to take a few more steps toward her, picking his way around the furrow he’d left in the ground, making sure that each movement was slow and obvious. She let him approach, didn’t tense up or turn wary as he came to a stop just in arm’s reach. She stared up at him with a mask of porcelain, fragile and dangerous, and Qrow pushed down both his fury and the urge to get drunk until he wasn’t angry anymore. Instead, he tried to smile, “Hey there, kiddo. We missed you.”

     She closed her eyes, her breath shook before she opened them again, “Missed you too, Uncle Qrow.”

     Qrow held his hands up a little higher, from placation to the offer of a hug, “Can I hug you, kiddo?”

     She swallowed, he caught the glimmer of longing in her eyes, “…Just … don’t touch my shoulders.”

     Qrow nodded and made a point to move slowly. He wanted to pull her close and squeeze her as tightly as he could, but he didn’t need to be a wise, quasi-immortal wizard like Oz to tell that was a bad idea. So instead of that, he very slowly stepped in and rested a hand on the small of her back and the back of her head, tucking her against his chest, head under his chin, like she was something fragile. She tensed in his arms, but didn’t pull away, and when he tentatively ran his fingers through her tangled mane of hair, the tension in her frame unwound so that she was slumped against him. They stood there for a while, Yang trembling faintly in his arms but not crying like he thought she probably needed to, her skin under his hand almost fever hot and worrying as Qrow tried not to hug too tight and ignored the burning in his own eyes.

[sasorikigai]

Hanzo Hasashi NSFW Headcanon Masterlist!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Hanzo is extremely cuddly as he values physical intimacy. After sex, he’s in this exquisite, seraphic bliss, would be most likely be sleepy, and wants absolutely nothing more than to get cozy, warm, and as close to his lover as possible in bed. He won't sleep though for a while, as he's most likely still coming down from the reeling high, but just wants to trace shapes on his lover’s body, and talk for awhile before he’s being lulled to Morpheus’ grasp.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his lover’s lips. Everything about them; the way they smile, how gently they kiss him, how pretty they look wrapped around his length. With a female lover, Hanzo is definitely a connoisseur of lower body parts, especially the voluptuous lines of the narrow waist, then the gentle curve of the cheeks, down to the beautiful lines of her legs, while with a male lover, he is more about the security of strong arms and upper body strength. Regardless of the gender, Hanzo is all about the aesthetics and how his lover carries himself, and also regardless of their size and confidence, he is supportive of appreciating every body part of his lover’s, because emotional connection is pivotal and prerequisite before he delves into physical, carnal aspect of their relationship. 

The most favorite parts of his own body is definitely his eyes and arms. The depth of his eyes are so expressive and intense that even without vocalizations, Hanzo can convey his thoughts and emotions. He has worked really hard to sculpt his muscles (he trains majority of day and even without weight training to chisel a particular part of his arm muscles, the mastery of the Shirai Ryu secret - katana and chained kunai, but the latter being his character-defining weapon that not even one can remotely match his skills, because he’s just too damn excellent at it) and he doesn’t shy himself from showing his sculpted, chiseled form.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Since Hanzo has strong aversion with one-night stands or casual sex that does not lead anywhere, when he cums, he wants it to be especially meaningful and sacred. He is really not a fan of releasing elsewhere, besides the folds of his lover’s sex (regardless of gender) and maybe on his abdomen or in his pants if he ever decides to masterbate and/or has a wet dream, which is a rarity. He would not mind to come inside his lover’s mouth if that is his or her proclivity. He just is not all that much experienced when it comes to explorative part of lovemaking, but regardless, he will try almost everything at least once. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Edging, depending on how much patience he can exert and how much virility and stamina he could exhibit, and marking, especially when he feels more dominant, though Hanzo is extremely careful when it comes to making sure to not hurt his partner. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He has a few lovemaking experiences with Harumi, but that’s about it. He is not all that much for exploration and taking a variety of sexual positions. All that he’s comfortable is with good old missionary, or taking his lover from the back, and perhaps a cowgirl if his significant other is more of a dominant. Because having a semblance of control is pivotal for Hanzo’s psyche, it would be rare if he explores beyond what he is comfortable with. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

The Grip

Similar to the missionary position, the grip requires the person to lay on his/her back and raise his/her hips slightly (it may be more comfortable to place a cushion under his/her bottom). The man then places himself between her legs, while she moves her pelvis side to side.

The Toad

The man/woman lies back with his/her legs open, while the man lies between his/her legs and slowly penetrates him/her. For greater intimacy, he/she can wrap his/her legs around him and control the pressure of his grinding by gently pressing on his buttocks with his/her feet.

The Snail

The man/woman lies on her back and pulls his/her knees up to his/her chest. The man kneels down and enters him/her. He/She can then rest his/her feet on his shoulders, while he supports himself with his hands either side of his/her shoulders. The penetration is very deep in his sex position, so be careful not to go too fast as it may cause pain for the man/woman.

The Sphinx

The man/woman lies on his/her front with her weight on her elbows. He/She stretches one leg out and bends the other to the side. The man lays on top and can penetrate from behind while leaning on his hands for support.

The Zen Pause

This position is ideal if you need to slow down the pace during a long sex session. The man and the woman both lay on their sides facing each other. The man enters the man/woman as he/she wraps her legs around him.

A tiring position for the man, but worth it for the man/woman as the pressure of his body on his/her pelvis helps her to climax. Simple and an ideal sex position for a slower pace of lovemaking.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’s the epitome of a serious stoic. It’s extremely difficult to crack jokes with him, even in his most pleasant mood. Lovemaking with him is a sacred, serious affair and it should be treated with the respect and honor, just like any other endeavors. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Hanzo does not have much body hair anywhere else (armpits, arms, and legs), but he has an ample amount as one descends down his chiseled abdomen, leading his pelvis and pubic area. He’s neatly trimmed, as he is with his beard. His pubic hair is thick, dark, black, tame and neat looking. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Intimacy is literally everything to him when lovemaking is considered. Body language, especially stroking his hair, the side of his face, lips, neck, trailing your fingers along the length of his boy.... He loves every aspect of it. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He should be not ashamed about it or tries to hide it, but since the Shirai Ryu’s welfare and his family had been everything to him in his life, he is rather sheepish and embarrassed about admitting the fact that he occasionally jerks off. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Loves choking and marking him/her when he feels especially dominant. He is obviously hesitant to do it at first, because Hanzo is extremely considerate and sensual and does not want to hurt his lover, of course. But after a while he gives in, and choking and being dominantly thrusting into his/her sex is now his number one kink. He loves feeling his lover’s throat move beneath his fingers and watching him/her in overwhelming delirium. That incites him even more as his thrust would grow more relentless. 

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

It has to be secluded and private, period. So it will be the most conventional places, most likely in his bed. He does not mind to do it against the wall or on the floor, but as most often, he’s concerned about your safety and comfort. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Sensual buildup, mapping the coordinates of his body and slowly inciting him up until he’s rock hard. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything remotely humiliating and degrading, for both parties. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He’s much more inclined to give than receive. While he lacks the scope of multitudes of experiences, Hanzo is extremely skilled with his tongue and very considerate and careful. All he wants to do is pleasure you and send you over the edge. He will not cum until his partner does. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Although he can be slow, he's usually quite deep and rough, but not too rough to make things uncomfortable and hurt his partner, unless you ask specifically. Hanzo most definitely prefers things to take time, build up from intimacy and sensuality before they reach the throes of relentless delirium. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He much more prefers drawn-out, slow lovemaking than quickies. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Hanzo has a reputation to uphold and he won’t risk anything that would get him caught, unless their relationship is already known in the Shirai Ryu. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can go for as long as you want to. It doesn't take him long to get hard again, but during a typical sex session, Him and his lover both will most likely cum around two to three times.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

No, no and no. He would rather go without and do it properly, period. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It’s just... he isn’t very good at teasing. Hanzo’s rather straightforward, and he isn’t used to initiating things, either, unless a perfect opportunity comes and his emotions/feelings and sensitivities overwhelm and/or Hanzo is sure that his feelings will be reciprocated. As the relationship progresses, he is much more at ease and lax. 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Hanzo is relatively on the quiet side, and for most of the lovemaking, it’s just his panting and occasional grunts as he thrusts into you that permeate the atmosphere. He makes soft gentle moans when you first get going, but as he's about to cum, he makes these gorgeous grunts, that could probably get you off on their own. Even as a submissive, he is on the quiet side, but there will be more moans and groans, as his lips will velcroe to either kiss as he’s being taken, or attempt to quiet down from making guttural, dusky noises. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Hanzo doesn’t lack when it comes to girth and length. His flaccid penis is about 4.3 inches, while his erect penis is 7.2 inches, and the girth of his flaccid penis is about 3.5 inches, while his erect girth is 5.2 inches. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He is uncircumcised, his shaft is curved slightly upward and pretty veiny. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Generally has low to average sex drive, for he could go on without having sex for a while, things can change when he’s in a relationship. 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Hanzo struggles with insomnia and nightmares/night terrors, but lovemaking is something that significantly quells his trauma and the baggage of his past that he still manages to carry and endure. While he enjoys all the pillow talk and having deep conversations, chances are, after a few rounds of sensual, yet rigorous sex, he will fall asleep rather quickly, if not, almost instantaneously. 

[that-o-n-elesbean-blog]

Thomas Hellmann On Entrepreneurship Books And Finance Books

This Finance book is quite short; however, it gives very concrete suggestions about the best way to change your funds having a couple of simple adjustments. It shows the significance of saving and just how compound interest and investing can result in a wealthy existence.

 It’s not necessary to see a large number of personal finance books, if you wish to get smarter regarding your money. Actually, that may be also harmful to your financial health. One thing people get crushed by is complexity, states Bruce Sellery, who just ends up having written our favorite money books ever. As far as he’s concerned, no matter which financial vision you reside by simply you have one.

 No matter how you walk-in, or you have a detour on the way, just as long as you retain placing one feet while watching other. In addition, if you want metaphors like individuals, you realize which book to choose.

 Mr. Rosling had little truck with individuals who would deny the advantages of industrialization (including automatic washers) to individuals residing in poor countries. However, his great gift ended up being to deliver his data with clearness and ease of truthfulness is not even close to dry financial aspects textbook understandably. That helped me turn my thoughts, for an additional farewell blog, with other books on finance and financial aspects, which were both readable and insightful.

 Below is definitely an eclectic list, in alphabetic order by author surname. I compiled a summary of books on her to see whenever she felt enjoy it. Despite the fact that she isn't as thinking about the topic as me, it's certainly made her more conscious of things I am doing, she or he is more, and more focused by herself finances too.

 I would also like to point you to this amazing Finance Books list about investing and trading that I found.  IT provides the best finance book reviews and allows you to easily order these books on Amazon.

  Despite the fact that I've been studying about money, finance, and investing since I made my first couple of dollars like a teen, Irrrve never produced an economic plan. He applies this philosophy at his firm, where employees receive baseball cards that highlight both their weaknesses and strengths. This method he believes results in more significant relationships and work.

 Around the switch side, how you can Retire Happy, Wild, and Free: Retirement Knowledge That You Simply Won’t Receive from Your Financial Consultant isn’t just as much about taming your money when preparing for retirement because it is about retiring well on which you've were able to save. People you will possibly not otherwise suspect, who operate in normal (achievable professions) but who have accumulated huge savings and investments and also have achieved financial independence.

 Each one of the books offers some real understanding of personal finance and investing. Perhaps the very best factor are going to enhance our finances would be to never stop learning. Studying great books about money allows us to develop new strategies, invest more wisely, as well as make the entire process of managing our money rather less painful.

 I got myself the savvy women money book about 14 years back around Australia and it is a magazine I get each year and re-read. It’s a beginners book nevertheless its lighthearted and extremely discusses how modern women can take full advantage of the cash they've through not wasting money, investments, along with other ways to make money.

 It's Australian so has things that may not apply to New Zealand. Although this book isn’t about personal finance particularly, it offers a fantastic consider among the finest financial minds running a business today. Alice’s book provides an unparalleled view into Warrens early existence, and just how a few of the basics of cash and private finance have offered to create him among the wealthiest individuals in the world.

 This short article or publisher contains references to services or products from a number of our advertisers or partners. We might receive compensation whenever you click links to individual’s services or products. When I first look at this book after I was 12 years of age. Seriously. It had been on my small parent’s bookshelf and initially when I first started dreaming about being a uniform millennial. You might express it began my passion for money and private finance. I was amazed to understand that many millionaires would be the people who you do not expect they are more inclined to reside in modest houses and drive old cars. Why they are millionaires is they saved, invested, and live below their means.

 This book analyzes habits of millionaires so that you can learn to build them as well. This book trained us a lot and that I lately re-see clearly again almost twenty years later and it had been much better than I appreciated. It provides extensive practical tips that you could begin using immediately and can impact all of your existence.

 While America Aged illuminates the scope from the problem were facing, and warns the worst is yet in the future. Using the narrative flair and talent for decoding financial ambiguities that readers have started to depend on, Lowenstein brilliantly chronicles three fascinating pension cases: the collapse from the over-obligated Vehicle, the pension strike that stopped New You are able to a city’s subways and effectively shut lower the town, and also the scandalous bankrupting from the affluent corner of Los Angeles, the town of North Park.

 Not just compelling historic sagas wealthy with detail and unforgettable figures, each story also functions being an object lesson. Lowenstein warns these pension wars are just the start of the retirement and healthcare crisis we'll face when we don't find methods to address this latest moral hazard. Governments and corporations across the nation used pensions like an apparently good way to curry favor with unions (easy since the expense could be deferred until a later generation).

 However, with cumulative retirement deficits approaching $1 trillion, your day of reckoning has showed up. Shaun Rose is really a Certified Financial Planner and Army combat veteran. He founded the web site Good Financial Cents, and it is the writer of the greatest-selling book, Soldier of Finance.

 In the book, Shaun uses the idea of Fundamental Training just to walk readers through understanding personal finance topics, large and small. The writer confirms that the average investor may become a professional in the own field by obtaining winning stocks effectively. All they have to do is take serious notice from the existing market, locate a potentially effective company, and carry the chance before professional grabs it. Simple to follow directions are pointed out within this captioned book. There has been hundreds, otherwise thousands, of books discussed investing through the years.

 Many are great, while some are very well not too great, to place it kindly. Many good books are out there! I'd add some Wealthy Barber and i'll Educate You to definitely be Wealthy for PF, and Financial aspects in a single Lesson like a primer to being familiar with chance costs and lots of common economic fallacies.

[guylty]

Hello, hello! How quickly ten days fly by when you are having fun. I am back from Spain – a little more tanned, and way more relaxed, despite a bit of work while there.

We returned on a true red-eye flight on Thursday night and have a few more days until we head on to Berlin at the end of this coming week. Meh, I am definitely working this week… On the upside, that means I will be at the computer more, and have time to catch up on all sorts of things.

Such as the Fan Challenge, woefully behind at F… What the…????

F – Name a play that you wish RA would do.

Tough question. I’ve seen lots of plays in the past few years that I really liked, and I often also thought “Richard would’ve been *great* in this.” Labour of Love comes to mind. Or better still, Don Juan in Soho, although the latter was so perfectly embodied by David Tennant, I really had no complaints there. So who, or what? Shakespeare seems to be considered the ultimate ennoblement for actors, and yet – his plays have been done so often, there have been too many “definitive” and “seminal” versions of the plays; I’d rather like to see RA in something else. Both plays I have seen him in, were “conventional” – and I don’t mean that as a qualitative statement. They were classically staged plays (even though TC was played in the round, which was unusual and extremely fitting for the play; and LLL had an interesting progression through several decades.) But I would love to see him in something totally left-field, something experimental even, without structure, without props and backdrops and sets, something that really challenges the audience, something radical and different that redefines theatre and that makes waves. Something like Peter Handke’s Publikumsbeschimpfung (Offending the Audience) comes to mind. I just got absorbed into watching half an hour of that play on YT – fantastic, the 1960s really were a great time for theatre! Or the Theatre of the Absurd (Beckett, Pinter).

Ok, but to actually name a play, here’s this: I would love to see a revival of George Bernard Shaw’s plays. I saw GBS’s Major Barbara five years ago in Dublin – not necessarily his best play, but I quite enjoy the morality tone of the piece. He has gone out of fashion, though, which is a pity as he is an extremely interesting playwright and author, quite ahead of his time in many ways. And a Nobel laureate, whose legacy is unfortunately overshadowed and watered down by Pygmalion (turned into My Fair Lady). My wish would be for Man and Superman – an unfortunate choice in the sense that it has been done relatively recently (2015) in London with the always excellent Ralph Fiennes as the main character, Jack Tanner, a confirmed, rich bachelor, who is chosen as guardian for a young woman who decides she wants to marry and tame the cad. There is also a discussion between Don Juan (also played by the actor who plays Tanner) and the devil himself in the play, which provides an interesting challenge in the role – more scope for RA to show his abilities.

But good fan that I am, I will be happy with anything – although RA in a GBS revival on his Dublin home turf would be a dream come true!

What would you like to see RA in?

The Fan A to Z – #F Hello, hello! How quickly ten days fly by when you are having fun. I am back from Spain - a little more tanned, and way more relaxed, despite a bit of work while there.

[hudsonespie]

Breaking Down the US Navy’s Blueprint for a Blue Arctic

With climate change and an increasingly unstable international order, the U.S. Navy is releasing new Arctic strategies at an accelerated pace. 

Five years after it published the 2009 Navy Arctic Roadmap, it came out with the Arctic Roadmap: 2014-2030, in step with the Quadrennial Defense Review published that year. Although the updated roadmap’s title made it seem as if the document were supposed to stick around, five years later, it was replaced by the February 2019 Strategic Outlook for the Arctic.When asked by reporters why the Navy was already revising its strategy document just four years after its publication and 12 years before its supposed expiry date, then-U.S. Chief of Naval Operations Admiral John Richardson retorted, “The Arctic triggered it. The damn thing melted.”

Less than two years later, the Navy evidently feels that the situation has changed again enough to warrant yet another update. Last week, it released its Strategic Blueprint for the Arctic, which replaces the 2019 outlook. The new blueprint does three main things, which I break down below:

It represents the Arctic as an American homeland rather than frontier, encompassing three oceans stretching from Maine to Alaska

It marks Russia and China as enemies

It portrays the Arctic as a navigable blue ocean rather than an inaccessible frozen periphery

A three-ocean Arctic homeland

The 2019 outlook described America’s Arctic following the definition codified by the 1984 Arctic Research and Policy Act, which encompasses the lands and waters in Alaska north of the Arctic Circle, along the Bering Strait, and in the Aleutians. The 2019 outlook also used the US Arctic Research Commission’s very basic map of the region, seen below.

The map included in the U.S. Navy’s 2019 Strategic Outlook for the Arctic.

In contrast, the 2021 Strategic Blueprint for the Arctic takes a more expansive view crossing three oceans, from the Atlantic to the Arctic to the Pacific. The document opens by describing the area encompassing the United States’ Arctic interests: a huge swatch of land and sea “stretching from Maine in the North Atlantic across the Arctic Ocean through the Bering Strait and Alaska in the North Pacific to the southern tip of the Aleutian Island chain.”

It may come as a surprise to see Maine mentioned before Alaska. For the northeast state, which only began leaning into its Arctic connections a few years ago (once Icelandic shipping company Eimskip began regularly calling at the port of Portland), this is a pretty big coup. The blueprint also directly references Maine’s participation at the annual Arctic Circle conference, which testifies to the Icelandic gathering’s importance for track two Arctic diplomacy.

Despite this geographically more expansive stage-setting, the Navy still acknowledges the same definition of the term “Arctic,” following the 1984 legislation. However, it now uses a map borrowed from the State Department with a widened scope that captures and labels three oceans – the Atlantic, Arctic, and Pacific – along with the capitals of Russia and Scandinavia. The eight Arctic Council member states are labeled, too. So is Maine, representing a small but important edit to the original State Department map. Finally, while the borders of various Asian countries, including China, remain visible in the 2021 map just like in the ARCUS map included in the 2019 blueprint, the actual countries remain unlabeled.

The map included in the 2021 U.S. Navy Strategic Arctic Blueprint.

If the American Arctic is really going to become a home, however, it will need a lot more investment in infrastructure. In a press conference on January 5, US Navy Secretary Kenneth Braithwaite recounted a recent trip to Adak, Alaska, where he had been stationed as a young pilot. He remarked, “Unfortunately, it looks like the set from a zombie apocalypse, to be very honest with you. That’s a very harsh environment, it’s been very harsh on the infrastructure there. It would cost an inordinate amount of money to reopen it.”

The Navy thus recognizes that more ports and facilities are needed but doesn’t specify plans for any investments in the blueprint. Instead, it seems like it will put its energy into improving its posturing, exercises, and fleet synchronization while fretting about the ports that countries like Russia and China are seeking to improve or control. Meanwhile, the Navy may have to keep relying on other friendly countries’ Arctic infrastructure, as Secretary Braithwaite stressed:

“There are other options that we have to be able to operate out of other airfields in that part of the world, in the Arctic. Of course we have our partnerships with our NATO allies: there’s a new air station opening up in Evenes, Norway, that can support both the P-8 and the Joint Strike Fighter.”

It wouldn’t be America without baseball in this icy field of dreams. In the photo of the first-ever baseball game at the North Pole played by members of USS Seadragon in August 1960, TM2 SS Thomas J. Miletich is up at bat while Lt JG Vincent Leahy playing catcher. Source: National Archives/Mariners Museum

From conquering to domesticating the Arctic

The Navy’s interest in sketching out a wider Arctic region—one that protrudes northward not only from Alaska but from the Lower 48, too—supports the force’s effort to transform the Arctic from a frontier into a homeland. The blueprint mentions the word “frontier” zero times, while it mentions “home” five times.

The apparent domestication of the Arctic was already underway in the Navy’s 2019 outlook, which clearly set out its three strategic objectives for the Arctic as follows:

2019 U.S. Navy Strategic Objectives in the Arctic

Defend U.S. sovereignty and the homeland from attack

Ensuring the Arctic remains a stable, conflict-free region

Preserving freedom of the seas

The Navy’s three strategic objectives in 2019 aligned with the country’s three national security interests expressed in the Department of Defense’s 2019 Arctic Strategy, which define the Arctic in three ways: “as the U.S. homeland, as a shared region, and as a potential corridor for strategic competition” (here directly mentioning the need to constrain China and Russia).

Now in 2021, the Navy’s three objectives have broadened. The need to have a presence is expressed in more general terms, while the aim of strengthening naval capabilities has replaced preserving freedom of navigation.

2021 U.S. Navy Objectives in the Arctic

Maintain enhanced presence

Strengthen cooperative partnerships

Build a more capable Arctic naval force

In trying to lay a claim to a wider slice of the Arctic and recast the region as American homeland, the blueprint emphasizes the navy’s historical presence in the region by referencing past expeditions by American explorers and military personnel. It also makes sure to namedrop not just the white men who led these missions, but their team members, too, whose knowledge was critical to their success.

For instance, the blueprint notes: “Just as [Robert] Peary, a Civil Engineer Corps Officer, led successful Arctic expeditions – together with Matthew Henson, Ootah, Egigingwah, Seegloo, and Ooqueah – this regional blueprint recognizes the long-term challenges and opportunities of a Blue Arctic – and the role of American naval power in. (No mention is made of the doubt that many historians, including Dennis Rawlins writing in the U.S. Naval Institute’s Proceedings in 1970, cast on Peary’s claims to being the first at the North Pole in 1909.)

A photo of the Robert Peary sledge party posing with flags, allegedly at the North Pole, on April 7, 1909 from the National Archives. The official caption reads, “Ooqueh, holding the Navy League flag; Ootah, holding the D.K.E. fraternity flag; Matthew Henson, holding the polar flag; Egingwah, holding the D.A.R. peace flag; and Seeglo, holding the Red Cross flag.”

References to a historical American presence in the Arctic – one that is diverse and inclusive, no less – bolster the narrative that the U.S. has successfully tamed the region and lend confidence to the belief that the U.S. can maintain an enhanced presence today. A parallel can be drawn with the conquering and settling of the Western frontier in the nineteenth century, which U.S. historian Frederick Jackson Turner (in)famously declared “closed” in 1890. By becoming a part of the American homeland, the Arctic no longer represents the enemy to be conquered. Instead, the country’s northern home has to be defended from new enemies at the doorstep.

Russia: From friend to enemy

In the introduction, immediately after describing America’s Arctic homeland as a region stretching from Maine to Alaska, the blueprint names America’s enemies in the north: Russia and China. The document posits, “Without sustained American naval presence and partnerships in the Arctic Region, peace and prosperity will be increasingly challenged by Russia and China, whose interests and values differ dramatically from ours.”

The casting of Russia as the enemy is striking given that just a little over a decade ago, the 2009 Navy Arctic Roadmap repeatedly pointed to American naval cooperation with the Russian Navy, Russian Border Guard, the Russian-America Long Term Census of the Arctic Ocean, and the Tiksi Arctic Observatory, located on the Arctic shores of the Russian Far East.

Happier days in 2010 onboard the Russian research vessel Professor Khromov during a joint US-Russia expedition to the Bering Strait. Photo: Aleksey Ostrovskiy/RUSALCA (NOAA). 

There were peaceful times in the past, too, even if the blueprint overlooks these in favor of a focus on Cold War-era enmity. The document notes, “Over 150 years ago, USS Jamestown stood our northern watch as the U.S. flag was raised over Alaska.” Left out of the story is the fact that this historical moment marked the peaceful passing of control over the territory from Russia to the U.S. in Sitka, the former seat of the Russian American Company in Alaska (even if we acknowledge that both empires’ reigns destroyed livelihoods and lifeways for Alaska Natives). Rather than pay homage to these more cordial times, the blueprint evinces a deep suspicion of Russia’s Arctic activities, which it interprets as a “multilayered militarization of its northern flank.”

This cold and combative description contrasts with depictions of the American Arctic, which use cozier turns of phrase like “our local Alaskan and indigenous communities.” No such language is used to characterize Russia, despite the fact that the ethnic, cultural, and linguistic ties connecting people across the Bering Strait run deep.

China: A near- non-Arctic state

If Russia is the friend that’s been uninvited to America’s Arctic housewarming, China is the new kid on the block that the U.S. seeks to keep out in the cold.

China – or rather “The People’s Republic of China,” as the blueprint names it, underscoring the bogeyman’s communist status, is described in even harsher terms than Russia. China is not just undermining global interests and degrading security in the region, as the blueprint claims of Russia. In fact, China’s growing “economic, scientific, and military reach…presents a threat to people and nations, including those who call the Arctic Region home.” I’m left scratching my head as to whether this means the Navy thinks that China would present a threat to Russia, since the latter calls a greater territorial extent of the Arctic home than any other northern nation.

The blueprint’s fixation with China, which it mentions six times (versus Russia’s nine times), is striking – especially seeing as the country was totally absent from the Navy’s 2009 Arctic blueprint. Consider the international governments and militaries listed then as having an interest in the region:

Japan is the only Asian country listed, and China is nowhere to be found.

While the Navy’s 2021 blueprint doesn’t make any mention of China’s claims to “near-Arctic” statehood (unlike the 2019 Department of Defense’s Arctic Strategy, which actively contested it), the department slipped up in its press release by announcing, “The blueprint places focus on the rising maritime activity spurring from Arctic states, like Russia and China.”

Klaus Dodds, professor of geopolitics at Royal Holloway, University of London, was among the first to catch this mistake. Puzzled, he wondered, “Did they mean to say this???”

The Navy has since corrected what must have been a typo (but at the same time, perhaps a subconscious acknowledgement of the fact that China cannot be overlooked in Arctic relations). The press release now states, “The blueprint places focus on the rising maritime activity spurring from Arctic and non-Arctic states, like Russia and China, which pos­ture their navies to protect sovereignty and national inter­ests while enabling their ability to project power.”

To nobody’s surprise, the U.S. Navy did not issue an erratum.

Wild blue yonder, tame blue Arctic

Representing the third notable development with regard to the Navy’s shifting perceptions of the Arctic, the blueprint repeatedly uses the phrase “Blue Arctic.” The evolution from white to blue mirrors predictions that over the next two decades, the Arctic region will become increasingly navigable and ice-free. As a result, the Navy asserts, “Our defense posture must be regularly and rigorously assessed to adapt to a Blue Arctic.”

To adapt, the Navy will seek to grow its presence in the Arctic not only underwater, where its submarines have accumulated over 70 years of experience, but on the increasingly open and accessible surface of the ocean, too. The Navy aims to achieve this by “regionally posturing our forces, conducting exercises and operations, integrating Navy-Marine Corps-Coast Guard capabilities, and synchronizing our Fleets.”

Massive joint military exercises like ICEX, the U.S. Navy’s biennial “submarine force tactical development and torpedo exercise,” have helped evaluate and enhance American naval preparedness for operations in the Arctic. Whether the navy can keep up with other countries like Russia and China remains to be seen.

Acknowledging the Transpolar Sea Route

Pointing to another central dimension of the blue Arctic, the 2021 blueprint elaborates upon the 2019 strategy’s mentioning of the Transpolar Sea Route, the shipping route via the North Pole that could emerge once sea ice melts sufficiently in summertime in the next two decades. The blueprint indicates, “The projected opening of a deep-draft trans-polar route in the next 20-30 years has the potential to transform the global transport system.”

As I’ve written about previously on Cryopolitics and in a 2020 paper in Marine Policy, the Transpolar Sea Route would represent the most direct maritime link between Europe and Asia. It could also facilitate access to new fishing grounds in the Central Arctic Ocean should the 2018 moratorium not be renewed when it expires around 2034.

Defending the virtual homeland with C5ISR

It’s not just the physical environment that the Navy deems important to protect: the virtual one is, too. The blueprint states that the Navy will “assess and prioritize C5ISR capabilities in the Arctic.” That’s shorthand for “command, control, communications, computers, cyber, information, surveillance, and reconnaissance” – a mouthful confirming that the world has come a long way from C2, or “command and control.”

The military’s domain awareness in the Arctic is limited by a lack of satellite and terrestrial communications, as a report by the Department of Defense in 2016 warned. Making investments in remote sensing, ice prediction, and weather forecasting are crucial to closing this gap. At the same time, the U.S. will likely keep its eye on China, which recently announced that it will launch a new satellite to monitor Arctic shipping routes next year.

Yet enhancing C5ISR involves more than just being better able to determine whether the next day will bring snow or sleet. The U.S. Army rather chillingly describes the term as “technologies that enable information dominance and decisive lethality for the networked Soldier.”

But, not to fret. The Arctic is America’s homeland, and, as the blueprint reminds, “The United States will always seek peace in the Arctic.”

This article appears courtesy of Cryopolitics and is reproduced here in an abbreviated form. The original may be found here.

from Storage Containers https://maritime-executive.com/article/breaking-down-the-us-navy-s-blueprint-for-a-blue-arctic via http://www.rssmix.com/

[otisscott65]

Taming The Paper Tiger At Home

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[imagines-hoarder]

I’ll Be Your Last *smut*- Finn Shelby

Request// Hi if ur taking requests can u write a Finn x reader where the reader is a bit older then him and he wants her to be his first? Could u make it fluffy and smutty?

*Does anyone offer a course on writing good smut? I may need to look into that.. Also cant seem to find any gifs where our boy Finn doesn’t look in distress! xoxox*

Masterlist

You could smell the Tokyo in his system and taste the liquor on his lips. Being skin to skin with Finn Shelby in his room was not what you expected to come from your first meeting two months back.

Honestly, you didn’t expect anything from the witty banter that passed between you after your friends dared you to get one of the Blinders across the club to buy you a drink. They knew full well that while you had a thing for bad boys, you were trying to stop yourself before your father got wind of your activities and sent you to a convent. With a little booze already in your system though, the dare became not so audacious at all. As you walked over to the mischievous lot, you scoped them out and found yourself drawn to the one with strawberry blonde hair, having his fun but more tame than the others.

You quickly sat in the booth next to him, the other boys not yet taking notice as he had. “What does it take for a girl to get a drink from a boy like you,” you inquired with a lazy smile.

He smiled back at you, a slight blush rising under the freckles scattering his cheeks. “A name would be a good start,” he answered more confidently than he appeared.

“Y/N.” You stuck your hand out for a handshake, and he only looked at it for a second.

“No last name?”

“Last names are reserved for the second round,” you flirted.

He must have accepted the answer, as he finally took your hand and laid a gentle kiss on it. “The names Finn.”

“No last name?”

“Reserving it for the second date.”

There had in fact been a second meeting, though unplanned. Your eyes met once again across a pub weeks later, only this time you found out exactly who he was and scheduled a night out to the pictures later in the week.

“I must be out of my wits, sneaking around in the Shelby house with you,” you muttered against his lips, not being able to pull yourself away.

“No one else is home, won’t be anytime soon,” he assured you as his mouth found its way across your cheeks and jaw.

“I mean more of taking advantage of you, Finn.”

He playfully pushed your back on the bed. “Oh come off it, would ya?”

You laughed freely as you hair spilled across his bed. You were older than Finn, and not by much but it was still something you poked fun at. You both knew it wasn’t a problem. He was more mature  than most of his friends, never mind more romantic than any guy you’d ever met. He’d take care of you, bring you flowers and such, and always stayed within your comforts. The truth was that at times, you did feel like he was too good for you. You had flirted and fooled with boys like his friends in the past, and it shouldn’t have surprised you so much that bad boys were the worst of them all.

“You know I’m only joking right?” You pulled him down with you, gently resting your hands over his shoulders. “You’re the best thing to happen to me in a long time. Just don’t break my heart, alright?”

He looked at you with a furrowed brow. “I think I’m supposed to be saying that you, sweetheart, but why would I even dream of doing something like that?”

You looked into his eyes, swimming in blue and your fingers danced in his hair as he laid over you. “Because that’s what boys like you do.”

“Boys like me?”

“Ye, they leave broken hearts a plenty.”

He leaned down, placing a tender kiss against your lips. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ll have to break my heart.”

That was one of the only times you believed the words of a gangster. You pulled him in closer, bring his chest against your body and kissing him more passionately than you had earlier. You felt his fingers tracing patterns against your soft thighs, moving slowly towards your undergarments. There was a hardness in his trousers that neither of you wanted to ignore.

You nodded against him, letting him know you wanted to continue wherever this was going, and helping to take off the last bits keeping you apart. His fingers hastily made their way to your core, holding you over with two of his long digits as he tore to get rid of his own pants. Your body arched at what little you could get of Finn, wanting more but rather enjoying the familiar.

“I want this to be good for you, Y/N. I’ve never done this before.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Of course we haven’t gotten this far before, Finn.”

“No, I mean I haven’t done this ever.”

How could you have been such an idiot? Of course sweet little Finn who still blushed when you’d tell him you loved him had saved himself.

You nodded in understanding now at his statement. “That’s alright. I don’t mind, but only if you want.”

That’s all he needed to hear to continue. He positioned himself between your lovely legs, stroking himself as he looked forward to turning a new page.

“I’m sorry you’re not my first,” you whispered apologetically, more to yourself than him.

“That’s alright. I’ll be your last.” Before you could fully comprehend what he said, you felt him push into you, your head jerking to the side as you heard him let out a shaky moan.

Your legs were quick to wrap themselves around your man, though he didn’t need much encouragement to keep going. Never before had it felt like this for you, a new experience of its own. His arms rested on each side of your head, holding him up as his forehead found home in the crook of your neck. You lounged in the feeling up Finn pumping himself closer while letting your fingers sink into his skin and hair.

You had become speechless, nothing more than gasps and cracked moans as Finn pushed inside you. It wasn’t long before he pulled away and spilled himself against your stomach. The gasps for air once more silenced before he carefully got off the best and brought back a wet cloth. It was only after he thoroughly cleaned you that he allowed himself to lay back on the bed with you, bringing you skin to skin as you rested in the sexual bliss.

So that must be what love making feels like.

[storyunrelated]

Soft spot

One of my all-time favourite tropes or concepts is that of the Outside-Context Problem. That is, something beyond the scope of the present story (or the apparent universe in which the story is set) that comes out of nowhere and blindsided everyone.

And now a quote from Excession that sort of demonstrates it:

"The usual example given to illustrate an Outside Context Problem was imagining you were a tribe on a largish, fertile island; you'd tamed the land, invented the wheel or writing or whatever, the neighbours were cooperative or enslaved but at any rate peaceful and you were busy raising temples to yourself with all the excess productive capacity you had, you were in a position of near-absolute power and control which your hallowed ancestors could hardly have dreamed of and the whole situation was just running along nicely like a canoe on wet grass... when suddenly this bristling lump of iron appears sailless and trailing steam in the bay and these guys carrying long funny-looking sticks come ashore and announce you've just been discovered, you're all subjects of the Emperor now, he's keen on presents called tax and these bright-eyed holy men would like a word with your priests."

I fucking love it.

You're just pootling along in your ordinary, everyday narrative about your donut shop or whatever when BAM - your latest recipe somehow awoke the Elephant Gods who've come to battle for your soul (and also souls exist, you learn, but not in the way you expected).

Or you're zipping along as a superhero when WHAMMO alien death sphere. Anyone seen an alien before? No, but they're here and their death sphere is impervious to your formerly unstoppable hero-beams - How is such a thing possible?

It's a way of simultaneously injecting mystery, risk, cool shit and other such random nonsense while also shitting all over established boundaries just so everyone involved doesn't get complacent. Love it. Trample the rules and blow away the comfortable.

And now, another quote from Excession:

"An Outside Context Problem was the sort of thing most civilisations encountered just once, and which they tended to encounter rather in the same way a sentence encountered a full stop."

(Because Excession is where Outside-Context Problem is specifically named as such, apparently. Really should read my copy sometime...)

[webcricket]

Catch a Falling Star

Characters: CastielXReader ft. Sam and Dean Winchester

Word Count: 2282 (Part 4)

A/N: Part 4 of a Soulmate AU mini-series. My muse informed me this story is going to end up with more than 5 parts after all, primarily because Castiel is the most muse-inspiring angel in the garrison and also because Crowley popped in to throw a wrench into my plot outline. Demons, right?

Summary: What if angels didn’t end up just anywhere when they are banished by sigils…what if sometimes they end up exactly where they need to be? Turns out you are Castiel’s grounding stone, and it’s more complicated than either of you realizes. Castiel and the reader are reunited, and it feels so fluffing good.

Completed series Masterlist:

webcricket.tumblr.com/post/165166387163/catch-a-falling-star-masterlist

Harbinger of the oppressively rising temperature outside, a pearlescent green cicada, having that very morning exhaustively fought his way from the black loamy embrace of the Earth after a long slumber to shed his skin and unfold translucent purple-veined wings to the light of day, perched in the uppermost branches of a cottonwood vociferously worshipping the sun. A whispering breeze, freshened by undulant waters of the lake and heavily perfumed by newly blooming stargazer lilies planted in a mulched bed beneath a wide-open window, rustled sheer white curtains to disturb the still air of the room within. The draft mingled pleasantly with aromatic spices of Ceylon and mint emanating in an ethereal mist from a cup sat on the broad white wash windowsill and the luxuriously piquant scent of citrus lotion warmed upon the fingertips idly circling the delicate porcelain rim of the cup. The page of a book turned, accompanied by an unperturbed exhaling of honeyed breath.

Tucked bare-chested beneath soft linen sheets, swathed in bandages smelling of medicinal antiseptic and cooling liniment, Castiel awoke to the summer serenity of the room. Certain any movement whatsoever would disturb this unblemished dream within which he presently found himself peacefully enveloped, he lay quiet and motionless lest he shatter the prevailing calm.

Detecting a subtle change in the atmosphere, you peered up contemplatively from the hardcover book balanced on your knee to study your convalescing guest. Dark-hair magnificently disheveled, eyelids restfully shuttered by lush lashes, he appeared disappointingly unmoved since the last glance you ventured to steal. Your crestfallen gaze traversed out into the meticulously maintained English style garden beyond the window. The wild blue coneflowers, tamed many years ago in the far corner by persevering fingers, prepared to blossom that afternoon – each verdant stalk stretching toward the sky and leaden with gravid buds. Your attention flitted back to the man laid out on the bed, nagging instinct insisting something was different. Book slipping forgotten from your lap into a nook of the plush cushioned chair, you rose.

Cas did not require sight to perceive your increased proximity. He could clearly envisage the inquisitive glinting of your bright eyes examining him as you stood over his idle vessel. His heartbeat skipped time, hastening to match pace with the dashing thump of yours.

Noting the pernicious fluid draining from his shoulder wound with a frown, you plucked a clean stack of gauze from the bedside table and commenced gingerly picking at the corners of the soiled dressing protecting the muscular joint to loosen and pry it off.

Betraying his indolent guise, the angel winced at the pang of anguish induced by the well-meaning and careful dance of your fingertips.

“I’m sorry!” you gasped, recoiling at his rousing reaction. The squares of gauze scattered soundlessly to the floor in your dismay.

Cas knew no matter how attentive your ministrations, the injury deep enough to strike his grace would remain excruciatingly painful until he regained enough strength to mend the breach of his vessel from within. Eyelids flicking open, undeterred by agony or a one-time stubborn resolve to avoid the perilous incursion into your life, he reached out unhesitatingly for your withdrawing limb, capturing you gently by the wrist. “It’s alright,” he sputtered, voice thick and husky with disuse, “you didn’t hurt me.”

Drifting nearer, you did not resist acquiescing to his adamantly tender grip, or tumbling into the extraordinary and oddly familiar blue depths of his eyes.

“Thank you. Thank you for…,” he stared blankly, jaw tensing in an attempt to formulate a coherent sentiment from a memory he could not summon. The last thing he recalled was tussling with a particularly burly demon, angelic might focusing to smite him when a force outside his control uprooted him from the scene. He couldn’t be certain he’d dispatched the demon before being banished. He was fairly certain the Winchesters were more than capable of handling the mess. He vaguely remembered crashing and, in a dazzlingly bright moment of sheer exhaustion, total vulnerability, and defeat of will, yielding to whatever fate providence deigned to offer up to him just then. And now here he lay – safe, comforted, entrusted to your care, and in precisely the last place he expected to be. He released your wrist, repeating himself for lack of available words, “For…”

“For dragging your half-conscious body out of the woods after you fell out of the sky and landed at my feet?” you supplied, brow fervidly arching. “You’re welcome.”

His expressive blues flew wide in genuine surprise in consideration of how casually you seemed to be taking the odd manner of his arrival.

“You really don’t remember?” you pondered aloud, a charmed smile illuminating your aspect. “Seems like something that’d be hard to forget. Unless, of course, this kind of thing happens to you routinely.”

Any higher reasoning regarding why you’d be better off not knowing him in affront to your deep universal bond was circumvented entirely by his weakened physical state, he mutely dared to hope any and all unfortunate future banishments routinely concluded at your feet.

“You’d better let me get this wound covered again before it gets infected.”

The angel nodded, not protesting your renewed efforts to tend to his shoulder. Seemingly struck speechless in your presence, he didn’t bother to mention the fact that there was no possible risk of infection when you began to swipe the yawning fracture of oozing flesh with betadine. Rather, sheets balled tightly in his fists, he stoically endured the overwhelming stinging discomfort without a single impolite grunt or growl to deter your actions.

“Where are you from anyway?” you asked, attempting to distract him from the burn of antibiotic ointment as you packed the wound.

“Originally?” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“It’s a place to start,” you angled your head sideways to inspect the final tape job, firmly pressing the edges to seal the bandage to his skin. Squinting, finding the result satisfactory, you bit your lower lip with a small nod of approval and removed your hands.

Cas did not fail to notice the cute quirk through his involuntarily tearing vision. Managing a moderately pain free relieved inhalation, he relaxed, retorting with the first thing to spring to mind, “Origins almost always are.”

A cheerful bubbling laugher emerged from your throat as you sat on the edge of the bed, absent-mindedly smoothing the wrinkled sheet beside him with a flattened palm.

The angel could not have prevented the smile drawing across his mouth if his continued angelic existence, nay, the perpetuation of all life in the creation, depended upon it. The sound of your laughter rang out as a delightful symphony in his ears. Deciding he had no reason to lie to you, and determining furthermore that masking his identity with misdirection seemed pointless, he pointed heavenward in answer.

You followed the indicated direction to look up at the rustic shiplap ceiling. A perplexed wrinkle creased your brow. “So…you’re what…an alien?”

“Angel,” he corrected.

“That was my second guess,” you remarked with a teasing grin.

“You don’t seem surprised.” His hand sought yours of its own volition, the rough pads of his fingers settling lightly across your knuckles.

Uncannily composed given his celestial revelation and the strangely comfortable contact between you that should be unnerving given his status as an almost complete stranger but instead felt more natural than any touch you’d experienced before, you met his warm regard. “Well, out of all the extremely fantastical possibilities I imagined while waiting for you to wake up to explain a man falling mostly uninjured out of the sky, you being an angel seems pretty darn ordinary.”

“I suppose it does,” he concurred. Noticing his errant hand, he decided he did not wish to remove it, even when his thumb boldly took it upon itself to trace a small expanding circle into your smooth skin.

“And also, I talked to your friend Dean last night.”

“Oh.” His thumb arrested its endeavor. The angel could not begin to fathom the scope of what Dean may or may not have said to you. The potentials were endless.

You continued, assuaging the angel’s unspoken concern, “He told me your name. Castiel. Cas, for short. He also said you’d probably be fine as long as I absolutely didn’t feed you after midnight. Does he always pepper random corny movie references into serious conversation?”

“It’s a coping mechanism of his. Or maybe a tick. Sometimes I find it hard to discern the difference. The grimmer the circumstances, the funnier he gets. I’m regularly surprised at how effective his brand of humor is at diffusing grave situations.”

“He must have been very worried about you then, because he was hilariously awful,” you noted. “Is he an angel too?”

“No, he’s a h-,” Cas stopped himself from saying hunter. He didn’t see the need to blacken the innocence of your world with knowledge of the monsters inhabiting it – angels were a destructive enough force with which to reckon. “A human. Dean and his brother Sam are the closest thing I have to family.”

“You’re lucky to have them,” you said, smiling.

“What about you, your family?”

Lip quivering, your smile faltered, despair darkening your expression.

Cas squeezed your hand consolingly. Remembering too late the hospital’s inability to locate a next of kin, he apologized, “Y/N, I’m sorry. I-I forgot.”

Withdrawing your hand from his grasp, you regarded him suspiciously, sniffling, “Forgot?”

He guiltily diverted his gaze, instantly recognizing his mistake in your bewildered reaction. After healing you at the hospital, he’d instructed you to forget him, and you had.

“How do you know so much about me?” you stood up from the bed, stepping back warily.

He struggled to sit upright to follow your retreat, clutching at his throbbing shoulder, groaning, “I can explain.”

You denied the tortuously strong inclination to help ease his struggle that yanked furiously at every nerve ending in your trembling frame.

“I was with you,” he strained, “at the hospital.” Giving up, he collapsed back onto the pillow in a fit of agony.

You recalled the passing mention of the man who stayed by your side. Dark hair. Trench coat. Handsome. Sad blue eyes. Your guardian angel according to the orderly who discharged you. Apprehension appeased by this recollection, you sprang forward, perching again on the edge of the bed, swiping the hair from his anguished brow. “You’re the mystery man who kept vigil over me,” you murmured, half-question, half-statement.

He nodded, “Yes, until I had strength enough to save you.”

“Then you’re my…my guardian angel?”

His torso rattled with a shaky remorseful breath, “I’m not. I stayed…I stayed to save you from me.”

“The doctors said my recovery was a miracle. You healed me, didn’t you? Why would I need to be saved from you? You’re the reason I’m alive.”

“You don’t know who I am, what I am to you, do you?” he asked, tilting his chin, appreciating for the first time that perhaps your limited human perception prevented you from hearing his divine heart beat for you as clearly as he distinguished the brilliance of your soul radiating for him.

“What are you talking about?”

He lifted two fingers to your temple, hovering them there, seeking permission to return the memories he took from you and more, “May I show you?”

“Show me what?” Eyelids fluttering shut, you submitted to his touch.

“Everything.”

Castiel, angel of the Lord, fallen, fated by design of the universe to be your match, your soulmate, hid nothing of himself from you. He divulged the vast span of his existence in exacting detail from his creation to this very moment. He held back none of the destructive angelic fury, none of the nagging doubts, none of the errors of judgement, none of the innocent or justified deaths on his blood-stained hands, none of the self-righteous indignation, none of the betrayal of friend and foe alike, none of the deep sorrow, none of the profound regret, none of the insurmountable quests for penance he attached to his many failures, none of the unremitting conviction of worthlessness, and none of the intractable belief that once you perceived him for the broken being he was you would have no choice but to reject him.

When you recovered your deluged wits, you found yourself nestled snuggly against the angel, quietly sobbing, arm draped across his torso and secure in his warmly encircling embrace. The last rays of the sinking sun shone through the window, reflecting off the lake to paint vivid shimmering orange-hued swaths of color across the far wall. Sensing your wakefulness, he gently wiped the streaming tears from your cheeks in turn.

You continued to weep – not because you pitied or feared or loathed him. You wept – not because you were overcome by the ferocity and dejection of the angelic maelstrom that he revealed to you. You wept because in himself he did not acknowledge the redemptive qualities of kindness, gentleness, courage, loyalty, strength, perseverance, hope, and the sense of wonder which equally defined him. You wept because the boundless capacity for love anchored within his heart was also the source of his unbearable suffering – he hurt intensely only because he loved deeply. Bearing the weight of this burden alone, it was no wonder to you that he fell from Heaven. Propping yourself up on an elbow to gaze bleary-eyed and undaunted into his fretfully furrowed features, you eased nearer to place a tearful smiling kiss upon his lips.

Castiel did not lose himself in the kiss as the clichéd saying goes. Rather, in the pliant give of your salt-laced lips, the angel found the one thing he’d always been searching for – home.

Part 5:

webcricket.tumblr.com/post/163910839900/catch-a-falling-star

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael After Midnight: Phantasm

Horror films are such a fascinating genre. Back in the day (The 80s especially), horror films were able to be boundlessly creative, delivering utterly bizarre, unique, and disturbing stories filled with magical serial killers, demonic entities, and lurking terrors. In 1979, the world got Phantasm, the work of one Don Coscarelli, who you may remember me saying back when I started this series that he would pop up again beyond my review of Bubba Ho-Tep. Well, it’s about damn time I got to what may well be his greatest work, a film that seems like it inspired the creativity of the 80s, and certainly helped inspire some other horrors decades later.

What is the chilling tale brought before us today? Mike and Jody are brothers, Mike 13 and Jody 26, who have just lost their parents. Their lives are normal as they can be under the circumstances, until the two become suspicious of mysterious deaths in the area. Joined by the local ice cream vendor Reggie, they all determine that the local mortician, whom they dub the Tall Man (due to him being uncomfortably tall), to be responsible. But when they start prying deeper into this mystery, lurkers, human corpses shrunk down to dwarf size and reanimated as slaves, begin chasing them down, and the Tall Man remains in constant pursuit. Can they stop this nightmarish menace, or are they doomed to become lurkers as well?

This film does one thing I’ve come to love in horror films: It is just incredibly, even unsettlingly surreal and dream-like. I wouldn’t say it’s as out there as Eraserhead or Death Bed, but it is definitely strange, mindscrewy, and very much an oddity. The weirdness only helps to enhance the atmosphere, though; the film has a haunting, surreal, dream-like quality that just makes the events that unfold all the more unsettling yet that much easier to accept. It’s a dream, anything is possible, right? The movie is clearly running on whatever is coolest or creepiest rather than what makes conventional sense, and there are a lot of scenes and moments that just… happen, and then are never brought back up again. It lends the film a style all its own.

But of course, the style is not the best thing about a movie like this, it’s the villain. And how is the Tall Man, portrayed by the dearly departed Angus Scrimm? He is, without a doubt, one of the greatest, eeriest, and most intimidating horror villains ever created. Looming over the cast, wearing clothes that are just a bit too small and moving just a bit too unnaturally, the Tall Man is an alien presence the likes of which have never quite been replicated in horror. He’s basically omnipresent, and the true scope of his powers is never quite clear… but god is he amazing to watch. Almost every horror villain after him owes him a little bit for taking a few pages from his book; he’s like the cult classic version of Mike Meyers, though frankly I’d say the Tall Man is a bit scarier than Meyers.

It’s easy to see how a lot of this film ended up being so inspirational, particularly the ending; the ending is something that seems to have given Wes Craven quite a few ideas, as he would use a very similar ending in A Nightmare on Elm Street. Then we have the Tall Man himself, who most certainly has inspired nightmarish beings down the line. It would not surprise me if the G-Man from Half-Life and Slender Man owed a debt to this tall, mysterious, utterly unknowable eldritch being. Of course, as is the problem with everything that is majorly inspirational, this can lead to modern audiences finding this film a bit less than impressive. As much as I love this film, I do gotta admit, a lot of later films did take elements that this film used and do them better. I’m not gonna pretend the Elm Street movies aren’t better, more enjoyable movies with dream imagery and a supernatural, nigh-unstoppable killer, but I give credit where credit is due, and Phantasm is most certainly a damn fine film.

To be perfectly honest, without Phantasm horror cinema may have taken a very different route. There is not a doubt in my mind that, despite its relative mainstream obscurity, that this film was a hugely influential force in 80s horror. Every surreal, dream-like horror film or horror film owes this movie some props for being one of the first big ones. And hey, even if the film itself has not aged perfectly and seems a bit tame in comparison to some of the films it spawned, there is no denying the eternal greatness of the Tall Man. He deserves to be listed alongside Freddy, Jason, Mike Meyers, Leatherface, and Pinhead as one of the great cinematic monstrosities, a truly unnerving and nightmarish force.

I suppose there’s no better way to end this by again saying this will not be the last time we see a review of Mr. Coscarelli. Hopefully next time it doesn’t take me a year to deliver on that promise.

[drjacquescoulardeau]

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON – SEYMOUR BARAB – RUSSELL OBERLIN – A CHILD’S GARDEN OF VERSES – CD UNDATED COPYRIGHT – VINYL 1985 – REMASTERED 2015

Let’s speak of the poems first. The recording will come later below. Robert Louis Stevenson – A Child’s Garden Of Verses – 2017

I will first regret the poems are not in poetic layout but in plain prose layout in spite of the rhymes and the capital letters at the beginning of each group of what should have been lines. We miss that visual poetry. The illustrations are the only visual element and they are nice but not enough to make us enter in this world of children’s poetry, of poetry for children that has to be visually clear and attractive.

 The second characteristic is that it is poetry written for children. Yet it is mostly in first person as if some hypothetical child were speaking and that is not possible because the language is by far too complicated for a child that has just learned how to read. It is thus poetry that has to be read to children and what children are going to find in the poetry is the music with lines, rhymes and rhythm. It is of course a common convention for children’s literature in the second half of the 19th century, which is Stevenson’s period. Children’s literature is adult literature for children.

 The themes are essentially that of a garden, a vast garden and a vast house, if not mansion in the countryside by the sea. We are in a wealthy family or even more than wealthy, with a nurse for that child who is a boy and cannot be anything else, knowing how often he plays with tin soldiers or he plays soldier himself, even if at the end an allusion to a cousin girl is introduced. The world is seen through the eyes of the boy and described through the pen and language of the adult who is telling us the story. The big Louis author is alluding towards the end he is seeing the world through the eyes of a small Louis boy that he probably used to be.

Then you have a lot of seascape, ships, boats, fishing, travelling and foreign countries, though the dominant one is India but only as a distant somewhere. The child is also imagining fairy countries, dreamlike countries to which he is able to travel. But do not expect any Wonderland.

 The most surprising element is the total solitude of that child. He is alone, playing alone and by himself with toys he can play with alone. He does not have any partner and adults are not taking part in the games. The nurse only puts him to bed and gets him up. In many ways it is a sad vision of a solitary quasi abandoned child in a wealthy family where everyone is minding their own businesses and hardly the child. So he sleeps at night, watches the sun rising in the morning, plays in the garden all day long, watches the sun setting in the evening and goes back to bed at night. That kind of life is traumatic. A child living such a life should develop PTSS by total lack of love, total lack of company, total lack of another child of the same size, except the imaginary one he creates, and that should lead him to a split personality, a perfect soil for schizophrenia later on.

 I was even amazed at finding some social Darwinism in one poem:

 The child that is not clean and neat,

With lots of toys and things to eat,

He is a naughty child, I’m sure –

Or else his dear papa is poor.

 In other words, it is the fate of a naughty rich boy or a poor boy. And it is normal if you are poor not to be clean and neat, not to have toys and food. There is no questioning of it and it is equaled to “naughtiness” for a rich boy. A good boy, meaning rich, is always clean and neat, has plenty of toys and plenty to eat. Just add to this it is the reward for being a good rich boy and social Darwinism is with you. These concepts of good boy and bad boy are constantly present in many poems and one is for me surprisingly European-centered to the point of reaching infantile arrogance:

 FOREIGN CHILDREN Little Indian, Sioux or Crow, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or Japanee, Oh! Don’t you wish that you were me? You have seen the scarlet trees And the lions overseas; You have eaten ostrich eggs, And turned the turtles off their legs. Such a life is very fine, But it’s not so nice as mine: You must often, as you trod, Have wearied not to be abroad. You have curious things to eat, I am fed on proper meat; You must dwell beyond the foam, But I am safe and live at home. Little Indian, Sioux or Crow, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or Japanee, Oh! Don’t you wish that you were me?

How plain cruel it is to turn turtles off their legs knowing they cannot get back on their legs alone. Just as cruel as making the Indian, the Sioux, the Crow, the Eskimo, the Turk and the Japanese only dream of one thing: be a good white European, rich of course.

But now the recording. Robert Louis Stevenson – Seymour Barab – Russell Oberlin – A Child’s Garden Of Verses – Cd Undated Copyright – Vinyl 1985 – Remastered 2015

 Since the poems were written for children but were not children’s literature, really written from the point of view and with the language of a child but from the point of view of an adult trying to assume the point of view of a child in adult language, Seymour Barab did not try to compose a traditional music for children in the line of nursery rhymes or lullabies. The music is simple, dynamic songs, but it does not respect the fundamental rule of a song that children can sing: its repetitive stanza pattern. The music is thus very expressive and original. Children might like it, and they probably will, but they won’t be able to sing along because of this fact, this elaboration.

 Now what about the singing. It is not operatic in the articulation it often gets on the stage that makes the language inaudible and impossible to understand. The articulation is closer to that of plain songs, popular songs, music hall songs, so that we can really follow the words easily. The voice of Russell Oberlin sure is a countertenor but the coloration of this countertenor’s voice is very low indeed and the music does not try to make him go up in any way. So we have a very tamed countertenor voice and people who are used today to countertenors like Philippe Jaroussky, Max Emmanuel Cencic or Franco Fagioli will miss the lightest and highest expertise. Even if you think of Alfred Deller or James Bowman, you will also be surprised or disappointed. And yet you would be wrong.

 Russell Oberlin has a voice of his own which is like the voice of a pre-puberty boy who has aged nicely and sounds more like the still light and rather high-pitched voice of a young teenager more than that of a child. But the voice sounds so masculine indeed. And that voice has a strong charm that makes the recording very attractive and dynamic, but above all expressive and that is what we expect from a singer. Expressive in various styles, tempos and emotional stances adopted by the singer in the various songs, some of them being very short and yet in each one, even the smallest, he varies every parameter to create an atmosphere loaded with emotions and sentiments. And that’s the most beautiful side of this recording, even if some of the songs are so short, just like the poems, but just like one sushi is one mouthful small, two dozens of them are quite a satisfying dinner. Good major and minor fluent tonal Appetite!

 Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU

Russell Oberlin, America’s Legendary Countertenor – Radio Canada – 1961 – 1962 – 2004

 He is a legend but we hardly have any of his early recordings. He explains in the 2004 interview that he has recordings of what he did from age 6 to age 36, the age when he stopped singing two years after his hepatitis, but he does not know where they are. He does not seem really keen on looking for them and asking people who have archives here and there to do it for him. He is the proof though that a singer must start early. He was already singing at the age of six in a church choir and he was already hired to sing for private audiences around the age of nine. His evolution was then a continuation and not a discovery. He moved from boy soprano to his countertenor voice or, as he calls it, his high-pitched tenor voice.

 He is also the one who must have started the myth that at the beginning there was only him and Alfred Deller in Great Britain who was a falsetto voice and not a countertenor, according to Russell Oberlin mind you because you could disagree, and his comment was that he was the only countertenor and still is. He says that in 2004 which is amazing and he widens the scope by saying that all so-called countertenors are in fact falsetto voices. Though he says in 2004 that they are doing a pretty good job he seems to disagree with them though he considers they are not a fad but they have come back to stay because they are bringing back a whole immense lot of music scores and operas that could not be sung before (he seems to imply that both the use of women and the recomposing of the parts for tenors or baritones is unacceptable: he does not even mention those surrogate substitutions)

But to sat that in 2004 seems to prove that he was not connected with the world any more because a full generation of countertenors were appearing, some falsetto voices, but some real countertenors. And anyway that’s not the point. Men can sing in that high pitched range and the problem is; as he says, what the singer makes with his voice and that implies work, a lot of work and the saying is right about the early riser. He even acknowledges that falsetto voices that he calls fragile can really be powerful enough to fill a house. Unluckily some critics have followed his approach and rejected all falsetto voices, including those who are real countertenors, as being freaks like Laura E. DeMarco did in 2002.

 The interest of this DVD is that apart from sorting out Russell Oberlin’s two carriers, thirty years in singing and thirty years in teaching music and singing, it provides us with two Canadian radio recordings done in 1961 and 1962 for the nascent black and white television. These recordings are archive recordings and the quality of both the images and the sound are not what we would expect today. The images are low definition and the remastering of them did not improve them that much. We can dream about what television was then. The sound has also been remastered too but you cannot create CD or FM sound with a fifty year old recording. In those days low frequencies and high frequencies did not go through. So it is more a testimony about Russell Oberlin than a real demonstration of what he was able to do.

 The result is very interesting nevertheless. He covers pieces from the Middle Ages, hence monastic singing and church singing when women were banned from singing, which is not entirely true since women were part of the congregation and could as such sing in the chorals even if they could not be part of the choirs. Then he skips the English Renaissance when women were still banned from the stage or church choirs. He jumps to the English baroque period with Purcell and Handel, then moves to the 19th century with Robert Schumann and then more modern things with Hugo Wolf and above all Benjamin Britten and his Oberon part in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

 As for what we hear it is quite satisfactory, as I have said before, as a testimony of the past but not as a real demonstration of Oberlin’s art. As for what we see we recognize, if we have had the chance of seeing performances in the 60s and 70s, the performing style of these days: sophisticated as for the body language and very standardized as for the costumes in the 1962 show or suits in the 1961 radio recital worn by the performer. The body language is inspired from what we know about baroque performances in the 18th century and tries to recapture the mannerism of that time, a mannerism that was more or less considered as foppish at the time but that has been dropped since the 1960s or completely reconstructed as a style, not an imitation or vague recollection, but a fully developed style including setting, costumes, lights, body language and vocal posture and behavior, at times in an extremely modern and creative way. No nostalgia anymore but creativity.

An essential DVD if we want to apprehend Russell Oberlin and what opera singing was in those older times that are in fact the early modern times, the very vocal rich compost on which the modern world was and still can be constructed for tomorrow.

  Dr Jacques COULARDEAU

[jesusvasser]

Quick Drive: 2018 Ford Mustang GT Performance Pack Level 2

The skies are threatening as we pull up to the Monticello Motor Club, a picturesque private circuit carved out of a slice of the Catskills region of upstate New York. It’s not looking good. We’re here to drive a 2018 Ford Mustang GT dialed up to 2—a car that’s been tuned for track day duty but one that’s also tame enough to saddle up and drive every day. We’ll drive it if Mother Nature cooperates, that is.

As we wait for the tarmac to dry out and pray to the track gods that it doesn’t start raining again, we hop in for a short road loop in a GT fitted with Ford’s new Performance Pack Level 2 option. Officially announced at last year’s SEMA show, the PP2 is only available for the Mustang GT and serves as a further countermeasure to Chevy’s potent 1LE package for the Camaro.

The most noticeable updates to the car are quite literally busting out of the GT’s wheel wells: four 305/30 R19 Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2s, the same summer-themed rubber that also pounds the ground at the front of the Shelby GT350R. They’re wrapped around stainless painted aluminum rims specific to the package sized 19 x 10.5 inch front, 19 x 11 inch rear (the same rim dimensions as the base GT350). The word overtired comes to mind, but we’d rather have it that way than the other way around. According to a Ford engineer we spoke with, there were a lot of internal discussions around the tire package, which just barely meets U.S. regulations of how far outside of the fenders a tire can be.

This isn’t the type of rubber that’s going to help soak up road imperfections on a Sunday drive. But let’s be honest, if you’re buying a Mustang GT fitted with the Performance Pack 2, you know what you’re getting yourself into—or at least you should. Besides the tire/rim combo, you’re getting yourself a standard MagnaRide suspension system and other chassis updates designed help the PP2-equipped pony car get around a track quicker, including a thicker front tubular (33.3 mm and 12 percent stiffer) and solid rear (24 mm and 67 percent stiffer) anti-roll bar than Ford’s Performance Pack Level 1 offering for the Mustang. The car has also been lowered by about a half inch. Aiding aero is a front splitter similar in scope to the unit fitted to the last generation Mustang Laguna Seca package, as well as a tidy rear lip spoiler, eschewing the small wing fitted to the PP1 cars.

Other “track inspired” adjustments include updates to the car’s ABS (six piston front Brembos clamp down on 15-inch rotors), stability control, and electronic power steering systems, and you can get your Performance Pack 2 car in any transmission you want, as long as it’s a six-speed manual—and there was much rejoicing throughout shift-for-yourself land.

From what we could glean from our brief on road stint, this isn’t a setup that’s going to brutally punish you away from the track, but one that will remind you what this car has been set up to do in the form of some minor tramlining and a tauter overall feel than the base GT. At the heart of the Performance Pack 2 GT is the same engine found across the updated 2018 Mustang GT lineup, its 5.0-liter naturally aspirated V-8, now packing 460 ponies and 420 lb-ft of torque thanks to direct and port fuel injection and a host of other minor updates. There are few automotive sounds in the world sweeter than the guttural-punchiness of a Coyote-powered Mustang at full chat, especially so when Ford’s new active valve exhaust system is belching out its sportiest tune. The manual tranny is as good as it has been in the Mustang, with short, tight throws and a clutch pedal that doesn’t wear out your left leg. The PP2 also comes with available Recaro thrones in either cloth or leather that envelop you without thrashing your back or cocooning you too much. You need to cough up the extra scratch for them.

As we pull back into the facility’s south clubhouse, things are heating up out on the track. Helmet and HANS donned, it’s time to get it on. It was my first time here, so an instructor hops in to help me get familiar with the layout. As he barks instructions in my ear, I attempt to process what’s going on with the car during my four laps (two hot) on Monticello’s technical 1.6-mile south course configuration. It corners well alright, flatter than any other example of the current Mustang GT that I’ve driven, and its steering seems a tad sharper at first turn. This car is meant to bridge the performance gap between the base GT and the GT350s, and it seems to be in that sweet spot. More laps would be helpful though.

Not to worry, we’ve got hours left to go and a couple of Performance Pack 1 equipped cars to take out for some back-to-back evaluation. But here comes the rain again, falling on the track, making us sad and blue. We spend the rest of our time at Monticello looking forlornly out the window, watching the rain fall and dreaming of a day that could have been.

Looking at the spec sheets, a little more than 35 large will get you a stripper GT equipped with PP2, which seems like a pretty smoking deal to us. Of course, you can option them up past $50,000 if you want the full boat 2018 GT PP2 with every safety, convenience, and tech package Ford offers for the Mustang GT. We’re guessing most Performance Pack 2 equipped cars will fall in the mid-40s.

We were bummed we didn’t get more seat time to get a better feel for the car, and Team Ford was bummed for us. But hey, the weather is the weather. Ford assured us there will be more opportunities to drive the 2018 Mustang GT PP2 in anger soon. That was good to hear, because our short stint wasn’t nearly enough.

2018 Ford Mustang GT Performance Pack Level 2 Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $35,095 (base) ENGINE 5.0L DOHC 32-valve V-8/460 hp @ 7,000 rpm, 420 lb-ft @ 4,600 rpm TRANSMISSION 6-speed manual LAYOUT 2-door, 4-passenger, front-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE 15/25 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 190.0 (est) x 75.4 x 54.3 in WHEELBASE 107.1 in WEIGHT 3,800 lb (est) 0-60 MPH 4.1 sec (est) TOP SPEED 155 mph

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