#red cliff icons

[tianmicons]

[kittyhasskittles]

Chapter 1 is such a vibe in Red Dead,also just felt like drawing Aura's cute little Colter outfit,and the bonus of Arthur Morgan and his blue coat.

(I accidentally got his first horse killed in my first run so um-yeah it don't exist in my current game-:| )

[tosotd-wwe]

McLaren Orange

*based off the song “tennessee orange” by megan moroney*

lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: fluff *first person pov*

summary: y/n was raised in a ferrari family, but a special driver in the papaya car gets her to wear the mclaren orange.

I felt as if I was going to throw up. My hand hovered over my mothers contact, shaking from the knots in my stomach. I knew I shouldn't be nervous, but knowing the way my family is I couldn't help it. Finally after convincing myself to tap the icon, my phone began to ring. The ring went on an awful long time, making me feel even more terrified.

"Hi Mama," I say into the phone once she picked up.

"Hey darling," Her sweet voice echos into my ear. How am I supposed to tell her this?

"I've got some news for you," My voice cracks.

"Is everything alright? You're not in trouble are you?" Her tone becomes serious, I could tell she had her eyebrow raised looking towards my father.

"I'm not in trouble, Mama" I laugh slightly, "But, don't tell dad about this, please."

There was silence on the other side of the phone. I knew she was debating listening to my request, but also on not. I heard her shuffle around a bit. Maybe she headed into a different room for privacy.

"I know you guys raised me to know right from wrong, and I know you're thinking I did something wrong, but don't worry everything is okay." I sigh, "It's just, I've never really felt this way. I don't know where to start."

"You can tell me anything, sweetheart." She reassures me, my heartbeat already calming down.

"I met this guy," I mentally smack my head in embarrassment.

"Oh, I was expecting something totally different." She laughs loudly.

"He's got these gorgeous blue eyes." I feel my cheeks grow warm just thinking about the way his eyes look into mine. "He even opens the door for me. I don't think he's made me cry once."

I had met Lando after the Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix. A couple of my friends and I decided to go out for the night, we needed some freedom. Just that morning we were all wearing our red gear, cheering for the Ferrari's as they raced. Lando just happened to be at the club we decided to go to. He was with a couple of his friends, hanging around the dj booth in the back. I must have felt risky that day because I walked up to him, congratulating him on his race. Yes, I congratulated the enemy. We ended up talking a little longer. A little longer was the rest of the night.

"He's not from where we're from." I explained, "But, he feels like home somehow."

"Where's he from?" She qustions.

"The United Kingdom, Bristol actually." I tell her.

"He sounds like a very lovely guy," She compliments him. This makes my heart warm. Hopefully the rest of the story wont make her too upset.

"I've done things I've never done before with him, Mama." She could probably hear my wide smile through the phone. "He took me to this beautiful restaurant the other night. Oh, and we went cliff diving too!"

Talking about just a few of the adventures we had been on together already made my stomach burst with butterflies. Thinking back to when our hands were holding tight to each other as we jumped off the tall cliff, waiting for our fall to be caught by the blue water. When he gave me his jacket after our dinner because it was raining.

"There is one thing though," I hesitate.

"What is it?"

"Mama, he's a driver." I try to lead up to the fact that he's a big racing star, but not for our big team.

"He's a driver? Like a racer?" Her voice fills with excitement. "Are you dating Charles Leclerc?"

"No Mama, not him." I laugh, "He's not on Ferrari."

Yet again there was a silence on the other end of the phone.

"Mama, he drives for McLaren." I whisper, a weight being lifted off my shoulders as I did so. "Lando Norris."

I heard the door open from the phone, she was walking up to my father.

"He took me to Spain with him, that's why I was gone for a little while. He gave me the hat he had sitting on his dash when we got to the airport." I try to distract her from telling any information to my father. As long as he's a good guy why should it matter? "Mama, can you forgive me? Don't tell dad, please. I like him a lot."

"Honey, I'm not mad at you. I can't change the fact you like this boy. As long as he doesn't make you forget you look better in red." She sighs, the phone now on speaker mode.

"I don't know, his smile makes me forget sometimes." I fiddle with the rings on my finger.

"Hi daddy," I say quietly, knowing hes listening into the conversation. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."

"Your mother and I are so happy for you, Y/n. I could never be mad at you for chasing your heart."

"I still am rooting for Ferrari, don't worry." I laugh, feeling relieved by their acceptance. "But if you every see me wearing McLaren. Just know I'm wearing the orange for him."

[hyperfixatedhells]

hyperspecific sso nostalgia

"you have taken a dangerous fall" or falling off of a cliff so many times that you get taken back to your stable. also the screen turning red when this happened.

magic horses only turning magic if theyre away from civilization.

having to spam W or else your horse will slow down.

waiting for the bus and using the bus ticket.

using the circus ticket.

having to drag and drop items from your inventory.

jojo siwa at the disco.

spirit around jorvik.

collecting the stars and being so excited upon finding one.

certain horses being cold tolerant, [fjord, icelandic, etc] the others slowing down upon entering the valley of the hidden dinosaur.

finding gary goldtooth in the middle of nowhere.

low quality saddle bag pets and that stupid torn saddle bag.

not being able to stack items.

having to build reputation to progress.

the saving nightdust quest.

april fools updates, especially the 2016 supershire.

the summer bonfire event, the birthday event, the st. patricks day event, all of the holiday and seasonal events.

how the areas would be decorated for valentines day, easter, etc.

those things that would temporarily change your starter horses coat into all sorts of wacky things.

the barrel race in moorland.

the old filter.

the trailers being star rider only.

the closets being star rider only.

jumping being star rider only, and justin teaching you how to jump.

no jumping in towns/cities.

the original home stable.

waiting for the fairies and just BARELY missing it.

the baronesses racetrack being under construction for SO LONG.

jorvik not having any snow during christmas.

the 2017 character update and the ORIGINAL original character, plus the original weird looking starter horse.

horse island.

unnamed stable girl, the one that came before maya.

all of the old npcs.

when you enter a new area, the name of it would flash in the middle of your screen.

speed boosts on roads.

star stable news with ylva and matilda.

the loading screen stable cat who gave you tips.

the kallters.

having to build your reputation with the hermit to buy his horses and having to build your reputation with the kallters to buy fjord horses.

the iceberg and the seals.

the clothing and tack being basically unidentifiable until you hovered over them, because the items just had a gray or gold icon with what the item actually classified as. [aka what it looks like on mobile]

the fort pinta shark.

the global store not being around and having to buy things directly from the shops or the mall.

the infamous purple car and bulldozer that would run you over.

having to fill your houses needs multiple times a day plus the little smiley face mood thingy.

only being able to care for your horse near stables.

only having three uses for your water bucket.

unused furniture.

starshine roaming around greendale.

the "glue man" and the little girl in your stable singing during halloween.

wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

the chat filter being called phil.

stacy place oh god stacy place. also archie fails

all of the star stable commercials and ads, especially that one fucking disney channel commercial.

please add your own nostalgias onto this post i would love to hear them

[aeantizlkamenwati]

The Hound

So @the-kingshound updated and I dove headfirst into feelings and needed to get some feelings out...So I wrote a thing. As you do. A bit terrified to post outside of anon, but...2.5k words is too much for an ask and the discord...so...here we are.

Some moderate CW though, it contains depression, sexism (I know most people aren't going to want to delve into this sort of stuff because it's escapism, but I find it cathartic and validating when it's at least acknowledged how shitty it is to have a uterus at any point in time), and my Hound is not the nicest person around. (Arthur please don't give up on her, she'll get there)

OH and a part is inspired by a really old poll Kal asked about what color we'd like our dog-hounds to be and I know everyone went with the Christian Black Hound of Hell cause it IS iconic and spooky, but I was going...but a white hound would mean something to the Welsh. It makes a statement. SO I added it in the end to soften the angst.

Enjoy below the cut because I have no chill.

Guinevere stared across her small table at the King. Her husband, she supposed, though in the eyes of the court the title was not official. He seemed unable to meet her bright red eyes—not uncommon in her experience. Even in her own House people struggled to hold her gaze. More than once had she overheard whispers of the unsettling otherworldly heir, the one that must’ve been taken by some spirit or another.

Here was no different, only the terms changed. Annwn, Arawn, Mallt-y-Nos all were whispered as she walked past instead of Da Derga. ‘Bad omen that one’ was still the same though. ‘It’ll be the death of the Pendragons, letting one such as her share a bed with the King,’ in some form or another.

She waited patiently, stoically for the King to sort through whatever went on in his head. She refused to let her gaze leave him. To show any sign of weakness lest he go for her throat so to speak. She watched him as any prisoner might when face to face with their judge and executioner.

Arthur, as a person, was not…terrible. Though the most she saw of him was at their wedding, to be fair. Her hackles bristled at even the memory of the word. Wedding. It was nothing more than a celebration of her family’s downfall. The handfasting, nothing more than a shackle, a collar to show the might of Camelot.

But it was not yet a total victory.

After all, there were still more humiliations the king could bring against House Venegard. One, in particular, she dreaded more than others. She understood her duty, of course, and she would bear the torment like the cliffs do the raging sea…

That did not mean her stomach did not cramp. That bile did not coat her tongue. Her fists clenched in her lap, waiting those dreadful words, the terrible command. Her throat tightened against the rising emotions. Her skin prickled.

‘It won’t come to that,’ Saraah had told her. Radel and Ghaven had tried to comfort her as well. In their own way. Ghaven told her to use their wedding present on Arthur if he tried. It…it did make her laugh despite the crushing despair. Saraah had tried to tell her she’d be safe, that they doubted Arthur would force her to do anything.

She loved her siblings, but…she also knew they didn’t understand, not truly. They were, in the judging eyes of the law, men. They had the rights to their wives—not including Saarah of course.

They did not get the lectures from their mother about how to cut one’s own throat or womanhood should they ever be captured. They did not hear old wives tell horror stories of their first nights. They were not told tricks to get through it, how to fix themselves afterwards because their husband would just leave them once he was through—or fall asleep. They did not hope to die with the birth of their firstborn so they did not have to suffer anymore violations.

After all, what could be more symbolic of the King’s victory than breaking her in their marriage bed as his father did his mother so long ago?

Guinevere bit her tongue to keep her numbness in place. Pain forced her back into the hardened warrior her House had demanded she become. She remembered her mother telling her to never let any man see her scared, see her cry, and she refused to disappoint her.

Arthur cleared his throat. He straightened in his seat. He tried his best to look calm, but there was…some kind of nervous energy. He picked at his fingers out of reflex. His mouth opened and closed a few times. “I wished to ask you something,” he started carefully.

Her stomach twisted sharply. The slight dizziness that plagued her since her betrothal sent sparks over her eyes. She could already understand where this was no doubt going. The court had been rather loud as of late, crying that the marriage was not true. She was only surprised they didn’t demand the King show them the bedsheets afterwards.

She signed without feeling, as always, “Come to take your dues, then?”

Arthur blinked, reminding her of a puppy. “Beg pardon?”

She shrugged, each motion empty of any semblance of emotion. “I’m surprised they’ve let you wait this long. They seem quite eager for you to show me my place.” Her eyes drifted around the room. She noted the places she stashed weapons…assuming Gwyar hadn’t moved them again. They seemed exasperated every time they found a new hiding place…but they also didn’t take the weapons either.

“That’s not what I…” Arthur shook their head, as though trying to shake the thoughts into line. “I’m not—”

“So, a mistress then, that’s to be my humiliation,” Guinevere nodded to herself. “Probably for the best.” Her fingers gently traced the horrific scar across her neck, hidden by her bodice. “Wouldn’t wish to sully the Pendragon line with a wraith.” It was a stark reminder he did not wed a delicate flower, she fought and bled against him. One of his people nearly took her head off.

And the sick part was…she wished they had.

She shook her head against the darkness creeping up her spine. She figured out long ago she would never be a beautiful maiden; she would not be swept off her feet, or whatever Saarah’s fantasies were. She didn’t know why it still stung at this point.

She slowly rose from her seat. The fabric of her dress pulled and tugged uncomfortably against her movements. The neckline rubbed and scratched at the scar. Almost like feeling the rough, chipped edge of the sword again.

Her fingers were cold against her neck. She put them between her skin and the stupid Camelotian garment. Gwyar had convinced her it might be wise to attempt to acclimate to…here. Apparently, some of the court were scandalized by her tattoos. They apparently made her petite-self intimidating, like a barbarian. Or some other drivel.

Maybe they just didn’t want to admit her eyes scared them. Or maybe they were just trying to test to see if the King’s new dog would bite.

She plucked the letters from the table. The seal she was beginning to recognize as Saraah’s glared up at her in accusation. She assumed the others were from various other siblings he had corralled into sending to her. Probably sometime after the fifth letter she didn’t reply to.

She blew out a breath before placing them with the growing pile on her desk. Weight pulled at her bones. The old habit of talking to Saraah begged for her to try. Her chest hurt at the pain she must be causing them.

She drifted away before she could crumble. She had already broken in front of them; she would not do it again. She was the seventh heir of House Venegard. It was time she acted like it. Her feet took her to the window as they often did. Not to stare out over her new domain, but to the sky where birds played with the clouds.

A chair scraped over the floor. Perhaps the King grew tired of her. Or, more likely, he had other arrangements. Spending time with prisoners was hardly worth his time, but still nice of him to stop by, she supposed.

“I wanted to ask how you are,” Arthur’s voice disrupted her quiet contemplation of a flock of birds. She looked to the side as if she could see him behind her. Her back tensed. “We haven’t been able to speak since…” He didn’t say the words as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Your brother asked after you, well his husband asked, but on his behalf, I’m sure.”

Slowly, she turned, smoothing her face against anything that might show the crushing weight on her heart. “I am fine.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the simple answer. He kept quiet as he observed her carefully, as if he could pull answers from her like a sword from a stone. “If there is something I can do to make you more comfortable…”

“You cannot.” Her hands moved like swords, cutting off the line of questioning. “As I told Morien and Gwyar, I will remain living.”

Any more than that, she could not guarantee. She would pretend she was collared and leashed, sit when told, rollover as necessary, endure whatever she had to keep House Venegard alive. She would hide what and who she was, bury it so deep down it would crush her very soul into nothingness.

The two of them engaged in a strange staring contest. Her rubies as lifeless as the gems themselves against his captured-skies bright and beckoning freedom. He tapped a finger against the table. She could see him thinking and sorting through the thoughts, or perhaps he was trying to sift through the dense mist of her façade.

“Would you accompany me this afternoon?” he asked suddenly. “I was going to take Mordred, and I know we would both delight in your company as well.”

*****

Why she went was a mystery even to her. Perhaps it was strategic? To be seen with her husband and…stepchild? Show they did have some sort of relationship to keep the nobles at least somewhat complacent.

Maybe she just had a weakness for the child. Or was curious about the destination. Maybe after weeks drifting alone inside her rooms, only venturing out in the mornings to the dead training grounds or for mandatory appearances, she was going mad.

Arthur was pleased with themselves. They had a soft smile and a spring in their step as they escorted the group to a building. A kennel if the baying of hounds told her anything. Mordred’s hand tugged on their sleeve, eyes wide in either excitement or question. Arthur smiled wider. “Yes, they sent word this morning.”

And with those cryptic words, he pushed open the door and gestured for Mordred to go through. The child hesitated, but whatever was beyond the door drew them forward just the same. Arthur turned his smile to her, holding the door for her.

Guinevere eyed him oddly as she passed—well as best she could without pulling her neck muscles. She ignored the softest brush of warmth coming off him, reminding her how cold she always felt. She looked around the humble abode instead.

It did not take long for her eyes to find Mordred…being swarmed by wriggly, wobbly puppies. The mother hound watched over her litter like a queen, but didn’t appear to mind them entering her space. Her tail wagged as Arthur stepped inside behind Guinevere.

She blinked at the one, two, three…six puppies all bounding around on their tiny legs. Two were gnawing on each other’s legs, while a third played with one’s ear. One was pulling at Mordred’s tunic. Another was getting scooped by the child.

A bit of ice inside her chest cracked. It sizzled and popped at the scene. She turned to look up at Arthur. “Puppies?” she signed in confusion. “You brought me to see puppies?”

Arthur smiled. “Yes? They are cute and these ones the houndmaster said were old enough for a visit now.” He shrugged, though the way his eyes moved over the scene made her think he was up to something.

Of course, she always thought he was up to something, she supposed. Still…unless he was going to order the bitch to tear out her throat for good this time…what harm could puppies do?

“I was once told the Irish have great reverence for their hounds,” he eyed her, “even going so far as to give their great warriors and kings the epithet ‘hound’.”

She blinked at him, the nod almost involuntary. Why did he care to know that? Why bring it up? Her chest felt…twitchy under all the ice and darkness. She gave him a probing stare, trying to find answers. “Cú,” she spelled carefully, “it shows they are worthy of the loyalty hounds give.”

“I find it rather…beautiful to think a king is only worthy of his title if he is worthy of his hound first.” He smiled again, before motioning towards the puppies.

Ignoring the strange…prickle in her chest that his cryptic words seemed to conjure, she approached carefully, keeping an eye on the mother before gathering her dress to sit on the ground. The unoccupied puppy plodded its way towards her. It gave a little whine, perhaps a practice growl, before sniffing her. It was black like its mother with wavy fur.

Still, her chest clenched tightly. She made little tongue clicks at the puppies. Her hands petted the brave one that came up to her first. It wobbled and fell to the side. Her mouth parted in a soft laugh, more audible puffs of air than anything. Tiny teeth gnawed at her fingers as she tickled the soft belly.

When the puppy had its fill of her play, it tottered off to a group that gathered near Arthur. For a moment, their eyes met. Bloody red and heavenly blue. A strange pang struck Guinevere’s chest like a shard of ice had stabbed her heart as it broke away. She pulled her eyes down to his hands.

And found a tiny white ball of fur held safely against his chest.

She blinked. A glance at the rest of the litter found only blacks and a few red or fawn ones. The mother’s ears perked as the tiny bundle squeaked. She panted before sniffing the air as if trying to decide if the squeak was distress.

Arthur followed Guinevere’s eyes and gave the tiny bundle a soft smile. He shuffled over to her side, careful to keep a distance between them. He rubbed at the little puppy’s head. “This little one the houndmaster was worried wouldn’t make it,” he spoke softly, glancing up at her. “She’s the runt—and well,” he gestured to her fur.

Guinevere knew well what he meant. Pure white animals were often abandoned by their mothers, easily spotted by predators, or were otherwise ill. Runts were much the same. Her brows pinched together. She gently stroked the soft fur of the puppy’s ear. Her own white hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned forward.

“But it appears she’s much stronger than we thought—or just stubborn,” Arthur chuckled. “Some might say she’s a bad omen, that she’s already marked for Arawn’s pack and it is best to send her on her way…” He smiled wryly at her, like he knew the insults thrown her way. “Between you and me, I think they are just scared because they have wicked souls and fear she’ll sniff them out.”

He held the puppy out to her as another attempted to climb into his lap. The little thing was warm, soft like all babies were, but oh so still. She didn’t squirm or wriggle, just gave a dissatisfied squeak as Guinevere held her to her chest. The puppy’s tiny breaths pressed against her fingers.

Her heart twisted again. The bubbling need for this thing to survive choked her breath. She rubbed her thumb against its ear again, making clicking noises again. Fight, she told the hound mentally. She tried to impart some of her own will into the small hound. Fight and remind them hounds choose their master. And give them pity if they think they have any power over you.

[lilislegacy]

do you think the fact that Sally was young when Poseidon got her pregnant with percy ever changes her outlook of handling percy and annabeth's relationship, and do you think it would change how she handles it in terms of setting rules and things like that?

if he was dating anyone other than annabeth, i think it would a lot. but he grew up so fast, and went through such horrible things, and all with annabeth right by his side. by the time he started dating annabeth, he had fought on the front lines of a war with her. so i think sally was just so happy to see them alive and okay that she wasn’t too worried about other things. it’s stated in COTG that if sally were to hear annabeth in his room at night, the worst that would happen is her offering annabeth a cup of tea lol. she just wants them to be happy. she also knows annabeth is very level-headed and logical, and isn’t gonna let herself get pregnant at 17 due to not being careful. however, when percy and annabeth started dating, i do think sally definitely gave percy a very detailed talk that made him want to jump off a cliff. a talk that was probably full of “be careful and safe” and “being a good boyfriend means taking care of her, in every way. so make sure you…” followed by her giving him tips, and percy turning bright red and yelling “MOM.” cause sally is iconic

[travelingare]

📍Santorini Greece.

Minogiannis Valantis Captures the ethereal beauty of Santorini, an island that epitomizes the allure of the Greek Isles with its dazzling whitewashed buildings, blue-domed churches, and breathtaking sunsets.

on the cliffs overlooking the Aegean Sea, Santorini is a masterpiece of nature and human artistry.

The island's captivating charm is not just in its iconic architecture but also in its volcanic landscapes, ancient ruins, and the deep blue waters that surround it. From the stunning views at Oia to the vibrant streets of Fira, Santorini invites you to explore its myriad of colors, flavors, and sights. Santorini's vineyards, known for their unique grape varieties, offer a taste of the island's rich culinary heritage, paired beautifully with the fresh seafood served at the local tavernas. The beaches, with their distinctive black, red, and white sands, provide a serene escape under the Mediterranean sun.

The island's history is as layered as

its stunning caldera, from the ancient

city ​​of Akrotiri to the traditional

villages that dot the landscape.

Santorini is not just a destination? it's

an experience that captures the

essence of Greek beauty and

hospitality. Whether it's wandering

through its cobblestone alleys,

sailing into the sunset, or simply

soaking in the panoramic views. Santorini leaves an indelible mark on the heart.

For those enchanted by the serene beauty and romantic ambiance of the Greek Isles, be sure to follow @minogiannisvalantis for more breathtaking visuals of Santorini's unforgettable landscape.

[harryssattelitestomper]

Slane Castle (Slane, Ireland)

In honor of Harry making history at Slane Castle; here's a little instagram blurb.

Faceclaim: Olivia O'Brien

Liked by harrystyles, devonleecarlson and 598,844 others

yninstagram: IRELAND LETS GOOO

View all 7,283 comments

harryfan48 YESSSS

ynfan4 yn being dressed like Adam Sandler on a private plain is a mood

devonleecarlson Princess Leia kind of mood

Liked by harrystyles, gemmastyles and 602,043 others

yninstagram Is this a good-enough outfit for Slane? @harrylambert

View all 6,069 comments

harrystyles Oh that's perfect

ynfan4 HAHAHA

harrylambert A style-icon

harryfan47 please she's so funny

jeffazoff outfit as crazy as your dancing

-yninstagram you're not as funny as you think you are jeffrey 🤨

Liked by harryfan46, brittanybroski and 50,049 others

harryflorals Harry via ynistagram stories!

View all 183 comments

harryfan5 pretending i took this pic

walkthroughfireforharry delicate point of you😭

harryfan7 he's so babygirl

Liked by brittanybroski, oliviawilde and 203,048 others

harryflorals HARRY MAKING SURE YNs OKAY via yninstagram stories

View all 287 comments

harryfan9 how's it living MY dream😭

harryfan2 he's so pookie

harryfan7 not olivia liking this💀

Liked by harryfan6, brittanybroski an 203,039 others

harryflorals MORE OF HARRY TONIGHT ON STAGE! via yninstagram

View all 203 comments

harryfan79 fav person ever

harryfan51 the kissy emoji 😭

harryfan58 ohhh lord

Liked by harrystyles, brittanybroski and 607,495 others

yninstagram After show dinners >>>>

View all 4,548 comments

ynfan3 shes adorable

harrystyles dinners with you >>>

-harryfan6 brb jumping off a cliff

harrylambert angel

harrisreed red hair-twins!

-yninstagram @harrisreed We looking GOOD

Liked by yninstagram, brittanybroski and 1,948,184 others

harrystyles Love On Tour. Slane Castle. June, 2023.

View all 10 052 comments

iheartradio y'all ever get emotional thinking about how we exist in the same timeline as harry

mtv new phone background just dropped

harris_reed moves like harry

harryfan72 everybody there's a castle over there🕺 

yninstagram proud is an understatement like what the fuck harold

-harrystyles love you baby

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

Not liking a driver does not give you a free pass to bodyshame them, or to wish literal death and severe harm on them, or to be racist and/or xenophobic towards them. Not liking a team doesn't give you a right to do the above to those afflicted with the team either, or to be misogynistic towards the women involved with those teams. Not liking which team or driver someone supports, does not give you a right to do any of the above.

The drivers and the teams may never see the hate you spill but wait. We all know that they do;

Nicolas Latifi got such severe death threats he had to hire security

I'm not touching on the disgusting racist abuse faced by many of the drivers because there has been far too much to easily unpack but I do want to note that it got so bad last year that Alex for instance got such severe abuse last year his fans had to tell his family to go offline for a few days (not to forget the people who made up conspiracies about him and used his mother's past as a means to justify the abuse they were directing towards him).

I'll never forgot the amount of sexist hate directed at Hannah Schmitz, one of the few and one of the most recognizable women in the paddock who has lead red bulls strategy department the last couple of years, - because apparently women in motorsport are only valid if they're not under the red bull umbrella - which got so bad multiple of the drivers called it out publicly.

The multiple conspiracies created about and general racial discrimination faced by Yuki and Zhou which was and continues to be encouraged and spread by primarily the English speaking journalists and commentators

Let's not forget the sexist chants sung about Sophie Kumpen; Max's mother at Monza, or the literal death threats that were sent to his sister and young nephews.

The way some of you talk about Michael Schumacher, I don't have the words. The ski jokes has not once in the last decade been funny.

I could go on and on. I could literally do this all day.

Sure the drivers might never see it but that doesn't mean nobody will and we all see how conditional any form of your allyship is. "Racism is wrong unless it's about x, sexism is wrong unless it's about y, death threats are wrong unless it's about z, etc". Do better. You cannot claim the moral high ground, if you do any of the above, no matter how much higher you perceive yourself to be than the person you're directing the above towards.

As for death wishes or crash wishes, cop yourselves on to fuck. I would never wish what I've been through, what my family has been through, on my worst enemy, let alone some driver I'll probably never even meet. F1 is nowadays a safe enough sport but that has not always been the case and there is still no 100% guarantee of completely safety. The risk is still there even with all the advancements in safety. So many drivers have lost their lives or have had their lives altered forever as a result of a crash. Some of the drivers on the current grid are directly impacted or know those whose lives have been lost or altered because of a crash. Nearly everyone on that grid has a story. Some of you have their photos as your icons as you wish literal death and injury on their coworkers, their friends. They would be beyond disgusted by you. I can name far too many drivers who lost their lives in this sport, it shouldn't take naming them to make people realize that wishing for some to die like they did is a disgusting act. If it were to come true, would you celebrate? Would you cheer as the red flag came out? I don't think I want to know the answer, considering some of the things I've seen in the main tags over the last couple of years (see that one person who wanted to violently and literally stab and kill a driver or see that disgusting poll about which way would be best to literally kill another driver).

Don't start with but x did this or y fans did that, if they jumped off a cliff, would you? Why are you so eager to lower yourself to what you feel are their low standards or morals? And I don't blame a driver for the actions of someone who calls themselves a fan while doing anything that I've mentioned in this post, because they're not fans, they're people who use the driver they claim to back as a shield and as an excuse for their appalling behavior.

Also, if you have to say "I don't like driver x but I agree nobody deserves this type of abuse", get rid of everything before the but. You don't have to like someone to offer them basic respect or human decency.

[southwest-pottery-bracket]

A crash course in some vocabulary

Archaeology, like all sciences, has a lot of specialized jargon we use to talk about pottery. To make sure everyone’s on the same page, here’s a list of some common terms I’ll be using, what they mean, and how to pronounce them.

~ 🏺🏺🏺 ~

Ware: A broader term for a technological/cultural tradition in pottery. Typically, construction method, color, clay type, temper type, and paint type are what defines a “ware.” So Chuska Gray Ware is unslipped, usually unpainted gray clay with crushed black basalt temper. Roosevelt Red Ware is red-slipped clay with sand temper and carbon-based paint. Hohokam Buff Ware is unslipped or cream-slipped buff-colored clay with coarse sand temper, created using a paddle-and-anvil forming method and painted with red paint.

Type: Within a ware, a type is a more narrowly specific decorative style. Roosevelt Red Ware has multiple types within it, such as Salado Red (unpainted red-slipped), Pinto Black-on-red (black paint on the red in a specific radially symmetric interlocked hatched-and-bold pattern), Pinto Polychrome (same decorative style but on a white-slipped interior field), Gila Polychrome (red exterior, white-slipped interior, a usually-broken black band around the rim, black painted designs in a two- or -four-fold symmetry), Tonto Polychrome (bolder and less symmetric black-and-white designs on a red field), Cliff Polychrome, Dinwiddie Polychrome, Nine Mile Polychrome… different stylistic variations on the Roosevelt Red Ware technological/visual core. You can read more about categorizations here.

A note on naming conventions: Pottery in this archaeological tradition tends to have a two-part name: a location where it was first defined and described, and a colorway. Wares tend to be “[Broad location or broad cultural group] [Color] Ware”; types tend to be “[Specific site] [paint color]-on-[clay color].” So within Tusayan White Ware is Flagstaff Black-on-white.

———

Gila: A river in southern Arizona and a bit of New Mexico, and a lizard and a polychrome type named after it. Pronounced hee-la.

Hohokam: An archaeological term for a Native American cultural group that lived in southern Arizona and northern Sonora, defined by traits like red-on-buff pottery, massive canal systems for field irrigation, and platform mounds. It comes from the O'odham-language word huhugham, “ancestors.” They are the ancestors of the modern Tohono O’odham and Akimel O’odham people (it’s a little bit more complicated than that but that’s basically the case.)

Mogollon: An archaeological term for a Native American cultural group from central New Mexico, eastern Arizona, and northern Chihuahua. Most iconic trait is the elaborate range of corrugated and smudged pottery. Named after the Mogollon Rim, the geological formation that marks the edge of the Colorado Plateau and a drastic change in geology and climate in the northern Southwest and the southern Southwest. Along with the Ancestral Pueblo, the Mogollon culture are ancestors of modern southern Rio Grande and Zuni pueblos. Pronounced moh-guh-yon.

Olla: A water jar with a wide body and narrow neck. Pronounced oy-ya.

Polychrome: Pottery that is three or more colors (poly+chrome), most often meaning red, white, and black.

A Tonto Polychrome olla. Southeastern Arizona, 1350-1450.

Pueblo: A collective term for Native people of the Southwest US (particularly in the Rio Grande river watershed, but also Hopi and Zuni) who share cultural traits and history—most immediately notably, a tradition of living in square adobe houses in large villages, which are also each called pueblos. Ancestral Pueblo is the term for the archaeologically-defined cultural group that share these similar traits and are, generally, from the northern half of New Mexico and Arizona, and a southern strip of Colorado and Utah. The Ancestral Puebloans were formerly called “Anasazi” but that has fallen out of favor due to pushback from modern Pueblos. Also, each modern Pueblo prefers to be called a Pueblo rather than a tribe in most cases—so you say the Pueblo of Acoma, the Pueblo of Ohkay Owingeh, Picuris Pueblo, Taos Pueblo, the Pueblo of Zuni, etc.

Temper: Non-clay bits that are added to natural clays to make them easier to work with. When you buy clay from a store now, it’s already mixed and processed and ready to use. When you find clay out in nature, it’s almost never so easy. Typically, you have to mine/harvest clay from riverbanks or cliffsides, and it’s hard and dried; then you have to grind the hard clay up into fine particles, and mix them with water. But natural clays are often puddly and don’t always hold together well, so you add temper, something hard and grainy to make your wet clay stick together more easily and make it good to work with! Temper can be sand, ground-up rock, ground-up shell, or even ground-up bits of other broken pottery. What different people used as temper is one defining feature of a pottery ware and pottery tradition.

Sherd: A broken bit of pottery. NOT shard. When it’s pottery, it’s “sherd.”

Slip: Very runny wet clay. It’s used to help attach clay pieces together, but more pertinently here, plain-colored pots are covered with an even layer of bolder-colored clay slip to get the desired color pot.

Smudging: A decorative style that potters made during the firing stage. They would have open pit-fires for firing their pottery, and cover the desired part of the pot with a layer of charcoal or ash. This creates a carbonized, reducing environment—that is, a lot of carbon, and little oxygen. This creates a smooth, inky black finish on the completed pot.

A Starkweather Smudged bowl. Mogollon, western New Mexico, AD 900-1200.

Vessel: Another word for pot, basically. Means a ceramic container of some sort. Bowls, jars, ladles, pitchers, mugs, etc are all vessels; effigies and statuettes are not.

[tianmicons]

[horrorvillaintourney]

DRACULA SMACKDOWN ROUND 1 MATCH 6: Dracula (Jetpack Dracula) vs. Count Strahd von Zarovich (DnD 5E: The Curse Of Strahd)

PROPAGANDA FOR JETPACK DRACULA:

“They have a jetpack.”

PROPAGANDA FOR STRAHD:

“As THE iconic villain of D&D's Ravenloft gothic horror setting, Strahd is fully just Dracula slightly reskinned for trademark purposes. [...] He checks boxes from history AND the source novel AND pop culture at once. Ancient vampire who slides easily between the full dramatic gothic bitch black and red formal-wear aesthetic and vague Eastern European Armoured Warlord Vibes, check.  Kidnaps, torments and murders people for entertainment.  Has a cadre of subordinate vampire "consorts" and enslaved vampire spawn.  Ancestral castle on a sheer cliff.  Can control and/or turn into wolves, bats and mist. King of the gaslighters, and add a heaping scoop of manipulate & manwhore in for good measure.  Extremely punchable!”

[zhoudadudugongjin]

Red Cliff: Part Two!

Lmao Zhang Fei in the arrow game. Iconic.

Idk what Sun Xiaomei (Shangxiang i think they call her in this?) is doing pretending to be part of Cao Cao's army but she seems to be having fun getting her flirt on with this chap. It's cute. I can ship that.

The army is all diseased and Zhuge Liang is getting personally stuck in to help treat them, which is very sweet of him.

Liu Bei wants to back out of the alliance because all his soldiers are dying, but Zhuge Liang wants to stay behind with his new boyfriend.

You can say that again lmao. I get more more surrogate dad-son vibes from them in this adaptation. Probably because they made the age difference so stark, and also because this Zhou Yu is a classy catch.

awwww

Next we get to watch Zhou Yu prance around with his sword looking hot and disehevelled for a bit so I won't complain too much. Xiao Qiao laments that she wishes she could make a teapot full of rainbows and smiles and they all just drink it and be happy :(

Zhou Yu and Zhuge Liang get up close and personal to talk about arrows

We get Zhou Yu's most Iconic moment!! Where he gets drunk with his old school friend and they sleep together :)) 10/10 for homoeroticism

Lu Su has a pet scarecrow friend 😭😭

Zhou Yu offers Zhuge Liang a blowjob

Cao Cao gets his moment of humanisation while he hangs out with the sick and injured and talks about how he misses his little boy who is always sick.

Shangxiang is back from her little holiday and gets Xiao Qiao to strip her in front of a whole load of men who all turn around awkwardly not knowing where to look. It turns out she has an entire map of Cao Cao's camp wrapped around her tiny waist. As you do.

I ship Xiao Qiao and Shangxiang by the way

Funny story, I kinda forgot that this was Sun Quan. Like I just forgot what he looked like. He had completely skipped my mind so when he came up and wrapped his cloak around her like this I was like "WHOMST?" and then I was like "oh shit yeah that's her gege"

Anyway. Then Xiao Qiao decides to fuck off to visit Cao Cao because she REALLY wants to make him tea. Odd plot point but.. I guess they wanted her to do something other than just stand around looking pretty and bolstering Zhou Yu's ego???

Liu Bei is waiting for his boy :(

Zhou Yu is sad his wife is gone so he has another sexy jamming session in the dark with Zhuge Liang and they look at each other like this:

While his wife finally gets to realise her dream of making tea for Cao Cao

Cao Cao's fleet burns and the Big Final Battle kicks off. Shangxiang's little friend she made in Wei dies in front of her which is kinda sad.

Then one thing I haven't mentioned is the unexpected yet wholesome friendship we get between Zhou Yu and Zhao Yun! Here they are, back to back, fighting off the baddies <3

They go and to rescue Xiao Qiao and end up facing off with Cao Cao. And Liu Bei + co are all there too and I'm sure it did not happen like that but eh whatever.

Zhao Yun probably didn't actually invent the pole vault either, but whatever

This shot of Zhou Yu is here just because it's hella cute

Anyway they all defeated Cao Cao through the power of friendship and tea or whatever and tell him to just go home instead of killing him the end

Epilogue:

Zhou Yu and Zhuge Liang have one final romantic rendezvous in a field like this is pride and prejudice or something

(the real end)

[silver-starss]

I have (spoilery) Thoughts on Ahsoka episode four

First of all how dare you

Second of all how dare you

THIRD OF ALL HOW DARE YOU

Bro why is Hera taking Jacen on this mission? I know she has a penchant for lugging around badass kids, but he's what, 10? A bit young imo.

Called it. Marrok was a red herring. Filoni knew that we'd all go nuts about the identity of yet another cool masked dude and let fan speculation run wild. Though him turning to dust does bring up new questions...

Sabine and Shin round two! I like that Sabine was actually able to use her armor/equipment this time and fight Shin on more even ground.

That moment when Marrok died and Shin seemed genuinely shook? And Sabine recognizing this and trying to take advantage of Shin's shookness? *chef's kiss*

Really good special effects in the shot with the ring coming out of the atmosphere! That was stunning!

Ahsoka and Baylan fight was genuinely cool, and the choreography felt much more Ahsoka-esque. Particularly that flip she did, which didn't look wired like the one from Ep 2.

So Clan Wren is dead. :/ Not surprising, I assumed that would be Sabine's character arc when the series was first announced (feeling survivor's guilt after the Purge), but what does Ahsoka have to do with that? Is it an emotional support thing?

Sabine joining up with the bad guys makes sense. Her #1 priority is finding Ezra and they're her only means of getting there. She's probably planning to gun down Thrawn in the process, though I imagine Baylan is fully aware of that and planning accordingly.

On the bright side, this gives us more opportunities to explore her rivalry with Shin...

Speaking of, love the dynamic with Shin being the feral one yet actually listening to/respecting her master. I imagine there's a story there and I'm very curious to hear it.

I don't know whether to be mad or impressed that Jacen said part of the Iconic Star Wars Line but not the full thing.

Beautiful transition between the ocean and the World Between Worlds. It looks absolutely gorgeous in live-action.

Why and how is Ahsoka in the World Between Worlds?

HAYDEN ALREADY???? I didn't think he'd show up until episode 5.

"SNIPS" (!!!!!)

Holy fucking shit I'm losing my mind.

He looks way better than he did in Kenobi, but the de-aging isn't 100% great. Still though.

Interesting that Ahsoka's first instinct was to call him "Master". Old habits (and attachments) die hard I guess. They're going to have some serious issues to sort out next ep though.

Lmao casuals must be super confused by this ending. Imagine that.

Goddamn that's a cliff-hanger. And on the strongest episode so far!

[jadegretz]

Red Monika: The Rogue Who Hunts by Jade Gretz

The Crimson Labyrinth:

In the chaotic landscape of warring mercenary factions, the world seemed to fester with a palpable tension, a distortion where every shadow held the possibility of treachery. Among the vibrant chaos, Red Monika emerged as a tempest—her beauty shining fiercely amidst the turmoil, but her heart firmly encased in armor forged by betrayal and bloodshed. The scarlet-clad femme fatale danced like a flame upon the battlegrounds, captivating allies and cursing foes, yet a suffocating dread narrated her every step.

As the sun dipped behind the jagged peaks of the Spendgorge Mountains, the ominous shadows lengthened, swallowing the last vestiges of warmth. Monika stood on a high cliff, her wild crimson hair fluttering like a whispering banner in the chilling wind. Below her, the mercenary camp of the Iron Fangs sprawled—a chaotic collection of tents, flickering fires, and the hushed murmurs of men and women sharpening blades and loading crossbows. They were the vanguard, the best of the worst, called to defend their claim over the waning territories that dotted this forsaken land.

Tonight, the Dark Pact—a nefarious alliance of rival warlords—planned to enact their insidious designs. She had learned of their gathering from the vaporous tongues of traitors and mercenary gossip, a gnarled thread of whispers that slithered through the shadows. They sought to summon an ancient, cursed relic that lay buried beneath the ruins of the Citadel of Sorrows. This object, a grotesque idol said to harbor the souls of lost warriors, promised immeasurable power to whoever claimed it. Icons of war leaders long dead had begun to echo through the minds of wayward souls, calling them towards resurrection.

Monika's emerald eyes flickered with the light of determination as she weighed her options. Power was seductive; it lured the weak and the ambitious alike into the maw of despair. Little did her foes know, the same force would spell doom for them if she could outwit them. In the heart of conflict, where camaraderie flickered as fleetingly as the flames around them, she understood the necess …(see the rest of the story at deviantart.com/jadegretzAI). For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)

[izfrogzy]

AN/: First Chapter may touch up later but here it is no big warnings or age restrictions besides the mentions of births and such. Hope everyone likes the first chapter ❤️

——Chapter one——The Daughter of the Sea

The echo of a raspy rumbling from the enraged sea came towards the dark sands of High Tide, the waves were striking upon the shores of Driftmark as the storms were rolling in. They pounded into the cliff of the sheltered cove, then paused and pounced with malice onto its ankle, slamming into the cliff sides of High Tide. Upon the shore sat a Dragon it lifted its crowned head as lightning sparkled the sky revealing her red scales. She lets out a screech as she looked to HighTides castle, even as the storm raged on it didn’t hide the labored cries of her rider.

Suddenly, rip-tide rolls heaved as the sea foamed, crashed, pounded and bashed the cliff-foot before sloshing back.

Within the Castle walls, inside the maternity wing, was Rhaenys Velaryon, formally a Targaryen, she sat upright as midwives fussed over the Queen who never was, she gave labored breaths and was instructed to take good breaths to remain calm, Rhaenys was disheveled but still looked strong and confident, as another wave of contractions began and her cries are heard throughout the castle.

Corlys sat at a Hearth, port in hand with his Brother Vaemond, who gave him an encouraging smirk handing him more port to drink, “Let us hope it’s a boy.” Vaemond would say and Corlys gulps down the port quickly, “Rhaenys tells me not to get my hopes up like that.” He told Vaemond “And I am already grateful for the son I do have.” Corlys said and Vaemond smirked “It’s always good to have a spare you know that brother.” He said Corlys slightly glared at Vaemond and drank more of his Port as he heard his wife from the other side of the castle.

Vaemond and Corlys waited, until the Maester came down and he looked a bit wrecked from the long hours The Lady of Driftmark had been in labor, Corlys approached nervously “Well? How fares my wife? The child?” He asked and the Maester sighed and placed a hand on the lord’s shoulder “Your wife is well Lord, and your ... .Daughter.” He said and Corlys smiled and Vaemond kept a cold expression gulping down his wine, Corlys chuckled “I must see her.” He said and hurried out of the room and Vaemond scoffed and went back to the Flames of the Hearth.

The storm is heard outside the castle as Corlys makes his way up the stairs of the tower which held the Birthing Chambers, the doors would swing open as he entered eagerly and he sees his Wife though a bit tired and disoriented and disheveled, she’s her holding the new addition to his family and legacy and he approached his strong Princess proudly.

Rhaenys looked up and gave him a smile, “Your daughter, husband.” She said and he nodded and sat down beside her and gave the newborn a look over,

She bore the features of the Velaryon complexion and had the iconic patch of white baby hair proving her Valyrian Heritage.

Little round face sleeping peacefully wrapped in the blue silk blanket, as the storm raged outside and Rhaenys sighed tiredly and Corlys speaks, “May I hold her wife?” He asked

Rhaenys smiles tiredly and nods and he takes his baby daughter in his arms, “She’s like Laena.” He said and cradled the baby girl “Laena wasn’t so stubborn to come out.” Rhaenys joked and Corlys chuckled “Nor was she born during a sea storm.” She added and Corlys smirked “Sounds to me this little one will be full of storm and fire.” He joked glancing at Rhaenys then down at his new daughter he held, “Our Maela.” He spoke and Rhaenys smirked, “Tis a good name husband.” She said laying back against the pillows which propped her up in the bed “Maela our little Sea Storm.” Corlys said proudly looking upon his daughter in his arms.

A few days after her birth, a celebration was held, Rhaenys held Maela in her arms as those who attended would come and congratulate Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys on the birth of another daughter of the sea.

Even the King came, Rhaenys Cousin, Viserys Targaryen, along with His Wife and the Queen Aemma and Young Princess Rhaenyra and the Kings Brother and Prince, Daemon Targaryen.

Viserys approached his cousin and her husband and Rhaenys presented the king with her daughter and he smiled, “What a beautiful child, you both been blessed.” He said and Rhaenys nods “Thank you cousin.” And Viserys smiled “Would you like to hold her your grace?” Asked Corlys and Viserys smiled and nodded “If that is alright with my Cousin.” He said to Rhaenys who smirked and nodded “It would be an honor Cousin.” She said and she hands off Maela to Viserys gently and he held the little baby girl “I do believe she has the Targaryen nose.” He teased and looked at the little baby, and Aemma looked as well adoring the little baby, Rhaenyra looked a bit grossed out, as Viserys told her to look at her cousin, to be fair the Little Princess was only Ten and two, Queen Aemma sighed “She shall become just as beautiful as her mother I am sure.” Aemma said to Rhaenys who smiled and King Viserys handed the Baby Velaryon back to her mother, and he smiled “We have a present for you and your child.” He said he gestured the servants to come forward and they did and carried a trunk, and it gets opened revealing a egg inside, and Corlys smiled “You bless our daughter with a Dragon egg?” He asks and Viserys nods “I do….it is high time another dragon is hatched and Though this child is Velaryon the blood of the dragon runs through her veins.” He said and Corlys smiled “Like Laenor…and Laena.” Viserys said and Corlys nodded and gave the king a bow “We thank you Majesty.” He said and looked at Rhaenys who smiled “We accept such a gift My king and cousin.” She said smiling and looked down at Maela who slept soundly in her mothers cradling arms.

Rhaenys sat in the bedchambers rocking Maela gently in her arms looking at her daughter full of love, Laena comes over only 5 years and she giggled, “Momma….is Maela sleeping?” She asked and Rhaenys smiled “Yes be quiet.” She whispered and Laena nodded and comes sits beside her and her little sister in her mothers arms and she looked seeing the egg over the fire in a holder as it is being warmed up, “Do you think her egg will hatch mother?” She asked and Rhaenys smiled “I dont know.” She said looking at Laena and Laena sighs “I hope it does. I may not have a dragon but I want Maela to have one.” She said laying her head on her mothers shoulder as she watched the baby sleep in her mothers arm, “She’s so cute.” Laena cooed looking at her little sister “I love her momma.” She said and Rhaenys giggled and gave her eldest daughter a kiss on the head “I must put her to bed ... .how about after we go find your brother and then find our way to the kitchens.” Rhaenys said playfully to Laena who giggled nodding liking that idea and Rhaenys settled Maela down in her cradle and Rhaenys kissed the baby’s forehead and she helped Laena do the same who wanted to kiss her sister goodnight before they both leave the room hand in hand.