#royal liver building

[wolfephoto]

The Liver building by night by John Wolfe Via Flickr: Liverpool, UK

[planetgeorgesblog]

[belovedmemoryblvd]

The Liver Building looking sad!

Taken with Panasonic Lumix DMC - ZS100/TZ100

[vox-anglosphere]

The Port of Liverpool was once Britain's gateway to the New World

Princes Dock, Liverpool

[4eternal-life]

Two men talking as they stand in Princes Dock in Central Liverpool. Behind them is the famous Royal Liver Building.

Circa 1966 

(Image: Mirrorpix)

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/ghost-town-by-jeff-young-review-liverpool

[desos-records]

Lockwood & Co AU where Lockwood's parents are just Evie and Rick O'Connell from The Mummy

Lockwood inexplicably knows a lot of extremely specific things about Ancient Egypt and he never elaborates and it infuriates George to no end

Lockwood: Well, it can't be a real canopic jar. The jackal protects the stomach, not the liver. George, who has never seen Lockwood read anything other than trashy tabloids and pulp detective novels: How could you possibly know that???

They discover while fighting off relicmen that Lockwood is insanely capable with guns and he flat out refuses to acknowledge any line of questioning about it, but it does explain the crate of old shotguns in the basement

He also apparently knows how to build, operate, and diffuse a range of explosive devices, which they discover during the Siege of Portland Row

Clearly, he has a talent for leaving buildings in partial to complete ruin everywhere he goes

He viciously despises the British Museum, a fact they discover after getting hired to clear out a particularly nasty poltergeist from one of their exhibit halls and Lockwood turns them down flat

On top of ghost relics, Portland Row is also home to various Ancient Egyptian decor--small statues, modern recreations of khopeshes, photographs of temple interiors. Some of the artifacts are the real thing and he does not see the hypocrisy in this

Along with the iron line outside, the lintel of the front door has the Eye of Horus carved into it as an additional protective measure

During rare nights off, the gang sometimes plays board games together and Lockwood is visibly surprised that no one else knows how to play Senet

He speaks Arabic and, if given enough time and motivation, can translate hieroglyphics

Sometimes when they're stumped in a particularly dangerous case, Lockwood will call on a 'family friend' who happens to have the relevant connections or expertise

Ardeth visits on Christmas every year without fail or warning. Everyone is in utter shock the first time except Lockwood, who is royally embarrassed by all the baby stories his godfather keeps telling people. Ardeth is just happy to know that Lockwood has formed his own family

The uncle he stayed with in the country was Jonathan

He has dual citizenship in the United States and, when Kipps learns this, he teases him mercilessly about it

[mydaddywiki]

Pat Patterson

Physique: Husky Build Height: 6'1" (1.85 m)

Pat Patterson (born Pierre Clermont; January 19, 1941 – December 2, 2020; aged 79) was a Canadian-American professional wrestler and producer, widely known for his long tenure in the professional wrestling promotion WWE, first as a wrestler, then as a creative consultant and producer ("booker"). He is recognized by the company as their first Intercontinental Champion and creator of the Royal Rumble match. He was inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame as part of the class of 1996.

I first became aware of Patterson when he and Gerald Brisco became onscreen stooges of Vince McMahon in 97. He had peeked my interest a little, then after his match with the Mean Street Posse where he took off his sweat shirt and started parodying Hulk Hogan’s flexing routine. I started putting my dick in a sleeper hold to the thought of him. It wasn’t until a few years later that I found out he was gay.

A native of Quebec, Patterson came to the U.S. in 1962 to wrestle, though he didn’t speak any English. He wrestled for regional promotions before joining WWE in 1979 as a wrestler, referee, and commentator. After his wrestling career, he worked for WWE in many capacities, including as a referee and in promotions. He was described as McMahon's right-hand man and played a crucial role in the company's massive growth. Patterson was touted as the inaugural Intercontinental Champion, credited as the Royal Rumble creator, and often described as the first openly gay wrestler.

Patterson came out as gay in the 1970s and acknowledged it on a WWE reality show in 2014. Patterson's longtime partner was Louie Dondero. Patterson said on WWE Legends' House he and Dondero were together for 40 years. Dondero died of a heart attack on June 28, 1998, the same night as King of the Ring. Patterson died of liver failure caused by a blood clot at a Miami, Florida, hospital on December 2, 2020.

Damn… The stories about this guy from WWE Ringboy scandal of 1992 to accusations of sexual misconduct and sexual assault with employees. Now all that is wrong, but If I was offered the 'push' from Patterson, I'd be world known. Just saying.

[transgenderer]

The liver bird (/ˈlaɪvərbɜːrd/LY-vər-burd) is a mythical creature that is the symbol of the English city of Liverpool. It is normally represented as a cormorant, and appears as such on the city's arms, in which it bears a branch of laver seaweed in its beak as a further pun on the name "Liverpool".[1]

King John founded the borough of Liverpool by royal charter in 1207. The borough's second charter, granted by Henry III in 1229, gave the townspeople the right to form a guild with the privileges this came with, including the right to use a common seal.[2] Liverpool's ancient seal probably dated from this time, though the earliest surviving impression (kept in the British Museum) is from 1352.[2] The seal depicted a generic bird with a plant sprig in its beak, together with a scroll inscribed (in shaky letters) "JOHIS" - an abbreviation for Johannis, Latin for "John's".[2] The bird was almost certainly intended to be an eagle, the symbol of John the Evangelist, who was both the namesake and the patron saint of King John.[2] The plant sprig is interpreted as broom (planta genista in Latin), a badge of the Plantagenet dynasty.[3] Also visible on the seal is a star and crescent, one of King John's personal badges.[4]

The shoddy draughtsmanship of the seal has given rise to other theories. Richard Brooke, a 19th-century Liverpudlian antiquary, surmised that the bird was a dove with an olive branch, and that the scroll read "NOBIS" or "VOBIS".[5]

By the 17th century the bird's real identity had been forgotten: it began to be interpreted either as a cormorant, a common bird in the area, or as a "lever". In 1611 the municipal records describe the mayor receiving a plate "marked with the Cormorant, the Townes Armes", while in 1668 the Earl of Derby gifted the town a silver-gilt mace engraved with a "leaver".[2] In his 1688 work The Academie of Armorie, Randle Holme records the arms of Liverpool as a blue "lever" upon a silver field. Holme takes this word to be an adaptation of the German loffler or Dutch lepler/lefler, both referring to the spoonbill.[6] It is possible that these continental words were adopted for the bird in Liverpool's arms as they made a fitting allusion to the name "Liverpool".[2] Around the same time the broom sprig in the bird's beak was reinterpreted as a branch of laver, also on account of the similarity of the word to the city's name.

In August 1796 Mayor Clayton Tarleton wrote to the College of Arms to request an official grant of arms to the city. His letter called the bird "a lever or sea cormorant".[5] Arms were duly granted on 22 March 1797 by Sir Isaac Heard, Garter King of Arms, and George Harrison, Norroy King of Arms; however the grant described the bird only as a "cormorant".[7]

The modern popularity of the symbol largely dates to 1911, when the Liver Building was built. This prominent display of two liver birds rekindled the idea that the liver was a mythical bird that once haunted the local shoreline. According to popular legend, they are a male and female pair: the female looking out to sea, watching for the seamen to return safely home, and the male looking in to the city, watching over the seamen's families (or "making sure the pubs are open", as a jocular version has it). Local legend also holds that the birds face away from each other, for if they were to mate and fly away, the city would cease to exist

it took them less than 400 years to invent a bird called the "lever" (not even liver...?) to explain a shitty drawing of an eagle

also bonus:

An all female rock group from Liverpool called The Liverbirds was active in the '60s. They moved to Hamburg in 1964, where they were billed as die weiblichen Beatles (the female Beatles).

[alectoperdita]

Oh hell, I am all about them drugged confessions. If/whenever you’re up for it. 💕

From Put That Guy in a Situation(TM) Ask Game

Jumped this one ahead in the queue since it's someone's birthday. 💜💜💜 Enjoy, my friend! I hope this has enough of the stuff you dig about them.

13. Drunken/drugged/sleepy confessions

content warnings: referenced non-consensual drug use and mildly spicy because Seto is thirsty

---

The city lights stabbed into Seto's eyes. The city's heartbeat—a frantic cacophony of bumper-to-bumper traffic, music spilling out of late-night shops and restaurants, and an overwhelming pulse of humanity—pulsed against the back of his head like a second migraine.

He lifted his heavy head and tried to get a better look at his surroundings. Not an easy feat when the world wouldn't stop spinning. Seto could feel the planet's rotational force itself.

In the sky, a bloated, sickly yellow moon hung on the black canvas, a dim bulb when compared to the Oriental Pearl Tower's neon blue and magenta on the opposite riverbank. The phalanx of lit skyscrapers behind the landmark formed a blinding wall that threatened to lighten the night sky.

No wonder they were sitting at a standstill in traffic. He was in the Bund. Shanghai. He was in Shanghai. Not for the first or second time, but the city's nightlife never failed to overwhelm.

It came back to him in bits and pieces. The Pan-Asia Duel Monsters Championship was in China this year, which KC was a sponsor of, along with a dozen international and domestic corporations. Seto wasn't here to compete, though. He was here to do business and build guanxi.

Which meant night after night of hard drinking and tedious back slapping as Seto endured their patronizing compliments about his passable Mandarin. Endless rounds of maotai until his blood must be 90% alcohol. That was the preferred poison of the old-school elites, the ones who built their wealth on the backs of a rapidly booming economy that outpaced everyone's wildest imagination. Not even Japan had sustained that kind of boom in the post-war years.

Potential liver failure was the price of doing business in this country.

That was last night, though. Seto was sure of that much, even if the passage of time seemed theoretical at best. Tonight, he'd been swept into a gaggle of their children, mainly the sons of the previous night's party officials and business moguls.

The fuerdai. His "peers."

Ha! Gozaburo had handed him nothing. Everything Seto owned, everything he accomplished, was through his own sweat and blood.

Seto will give them one thing: their tastes were decidedly less provincial. While their fathers drank baijiu like fish drinking water, they preferred cocktails, or at least pitchers of iced green tea mixed with Crown Royal.

Maybe that was his first mistake. Maybe he shouldn't have underestimated how fucked up he could get on such a simple mixture.

That was the last thing he could remember. He drew a yawning gap between the afterparty at the club and this taxi cab.

Seto sank into the seat and squeezed his eyes shut. His stomach lurched. Perhaps it was a good thing that they were stuck in traffic. He might not be able to keep it down in stop-and-go traffic.

An abrasive—a familiar abrasive voice—encroached from the fringes, though. An equally combative voice shot back in a different language.

Seto's head lolled to the side, away from the window and toward the other passenger in the backseat. Reluctantly, he pried his heavy eyelids open. God, why was he so tired? It felt like he'd pulled several all-nighters in a row.

His fellow passenger was Jounouchi, locked in a heated conversation/argument with the cab driver.

Right. Jounouchi was also in Shanghai this week. Except he was here to compete in the tournament. And unlike Seto, he didn't speak a lick of Chinese.

Not that his laughable grasp of English fared any better.

"Fuck, I'm telling ya, it's the other Marriott!" Jounouchi groaned in Japanese, running a frustrated hand through his bird's nest hair. It looked softer than it had any right to be, though. The strands ought to be bleached to hell and back after this many years.

But Jounouchi had been updating his wardrobe and his deck in recent years. Every victory advanced his look and style, and even netted him some media training like someone deserving of media notice, which was why he was playing in the Pan-Asian championship. Seto couldn't ignore him like he once did, like he still tried to in vain sometimes.

(And sometimes, he very much didn't want to ignore Jounouchi, wondering if he could catch the other man's attention in return...)

None of that explained why they were in the same cab, though.

Jounouchi tried again to communicate. It hurt to listen to him butcher English to that extent. The cab driver appeared to grow even more irate, threatening to eject them entirely.

Giggles spilled uncontrollably out of him. Of course! Of course, Jounouchi's incompetence got them stranded on the opposite end of the city from their hotel.

Fortunately, he was a snack to look at, even if his brains were nothing to write home about.

Seto's words croaked out of him, repeating in Mandarin what Jounouchi had been trying to convey. God, why did it hurt so much to speak? But even his drunken slur sufficed, earning a grousing retort from the driver that Seto should've just said so sooner while shooting a death glare at his other passenger through the rearview mirror.

At the sound of Seto's voice, Jounouchi jolted in shock, releasing the driver's headrest he had been clinging to. After several awkward moments of staring, he inched closer to Seto, stopping short of touching him. But the proximity and the tight enclosure made Seto's skin crawl. Not in an unpleasant way, though. His body tingled and felt a touch flushed.

How would Jounouchi's skin feel against his?

"You alright there, Kaiba?" asked Jounouchi, seemingly floating closer. He waved a hesitant hand in Seto's face.

Base urges welled up in him. He wanted to grab Jounouchi's hand and bite it, no better than a dog, as he once mocked the other man for being. Better yet, he could drag his tongue across the rough palm and lap at his knuckles. Suck his thick fingers into his mouth and learn contentment from how they could fill his mouth.

Seto was never drinking green tea mixed with whisky ever again.

He managed a small noise of confirmation before he twisted away, curling as best as he could around the seatbelt. Something like a whimper pushed at the back of his throat, but he refused to release it. He wouldn't humiliate himself any further. Just as he wouldn't crawl across the middle seat and cuddle into Jounouchi's lap.

But god, he wanted that so much it hurt.

A warm hand landed on his back, and he nearly surrendered as Jounouchi rubbed soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

"It's okay." Jounouchi spoke softly, but somehow it rang louder than the many decibels of Shanghai traffic. "We'll be back at the hotel in time. Just hang in there."

Seto spent the rest of the journey folded into himself, wedged firmly against the side of the taxi, trying and failing not to tremble under Jounouchi's caring touch. With a hushed tone, Jounouchi explained what had happened. It was pure coincidence that he ran into Seto and his "party" at that particular club. (Coincidence is giving chance too much credit. There were only so many high-end nightclubs in the city.) Jounouchi had wandered over to say hi before rejoining his own group. But out of the corner of his eyes, he'd noticed that Kaiba was acting unlike himself. In fact, the entire group seemed a bit off.

Seto was coming to his own conclusion before Jounouchi shared his.

Seto had been drugged. And since he knew better than to take random shit handed to him by strangers, it must've been slipped into his drink. Or maybe it was in the communal cocktail pitcher to begin with.

"They were trying to drag you off to someplace else. Don't ask me where. But you didn't look like you wanted to go, so I stepped in," Jounouchi trailed off. He'd yet to remove his hand, but it sat unmoving, a steadying weight on Seto's back helping to ground him to reality.

"I can't imagine they were happy," Seto muttered.

Jounouchi chuckled. "Not one bit. Acted like I was trying to kill the party. One chick threatened me with her stiletto heel."

"My knight in shining armor." Seto found himself laughing, then regretted it when his head throbbed.

"Don't worry, I didn't hit any of 'em. Mighty tempting, though. I just kinda threw you over my shoulder and high-tailed it outta there. That was how I knew you were really outta it. You barely cursed me out."

Heat associated with both shame and arousal rushed through him. It turned out those biceps he secretly admired weren't just for show.

"Finally, we're here!" exclaimed Jounouchi. His hand also regrettably retreated.

Seto watched blearily as Jounouchi overpaid the driver and leaped out the door. He didn't go far, though. He jogged around the vehicle to Seto's side and yanked open the door. As he leaned in and over Seto to undo the seatbelt buckle, the woody scent of Jounouchi's cologne flooded Seto's nostrils. And his strength was plainly evident as he braced his arms around Seto's shoulders and hip.

"Alright, up we go," urged Jounouchi.

Under any sober circumstance, Seto would've never allowed this to happen. To let Jounouchi touch him, especially as a caretaker. But Seto was the farthest thing from sober, fucked up on whatever combination of alcohol and party drugs he had been unwittingly fed. He didn't have the strength to stand on his own two feet.

So he relied on Jounouchi and his strength. Clung to the man's sweat-slicked neck.

The doorman didn't give them a second glance. Why should he? Seto was simply the latest in an endless stream of drunken guests stumbling back into the five-star hotel.

A lobby concierge approached and tried to help, though. Both Jounouchi and Seto waved him off. Jounouchi likely because he didn't want another stressful not-conversation, and Seto didn't want anyone but Jounouchi touching him right now.

"Hey, what floor?" Jounouchi asked after propping him against the wall of the elevator carriage.

Seto patted down his pockets and was relieved to find his wallet. He didn't expect the fuerdai to rob him blind like a common mugger, but you never knew. He tossed the leather wallet to Jounouchi and croaked, "Key card."

The tournament competitors were provided with single-bed guest rooms. Seto, on the other hand, occupied the Vice Presidential Suite for the week. Their elevator shot toward the top floors, bypassing the dozens of floors between the ground and the suites.

As they ascended, Seto snuck covert glances at the other hand. Despite the air conditioning running at full blast, Jounouchi was still huffing and sweating. Who could blame him? Summer in Shanghai could be blistering.

"Can you walk?" asked Jounouchi when the elevator doors finally parted.

Struck muted, Seto shook his head. His heart raced as Jounouchi wrapped a burly arm around his waist, and together, they hobbled down the hall to the suite's door.

The lights flicked on automatically as they entered, drawing an impressed whistle from Jounouchi as he took in the room.

"Yeah, guess I should've known. You wouldn't be caught dead living like us commoners. Where's the bed in this joint?"

The mention of bed caused something hot and heavy to coil in Seto's navel. Without meaning to, his arm tightened around Jounouchi's neck, which only prompted the other man to grip him tighter, mistaking the action as a plea for more support.

"Bedroom," he moaned, knocking his head against the side of Jounouchi's. He might be imagining it, but he swore Jounouchi shivered and pink flooded down to his neck.

Seconds later, they stumbled into the adjoined bedroom. The spacious room apparently didn't warrant any comments, because Jounouchi deposited Seto on the bed and disappeared from sight.

To say Seto was disappointed was an understatement.

It may be a blessing in disguise. Jounouchi had already done the "decent" thing: extracted him from a dicey situation and brought him to safety. Seto didn't need to embarrass himself in front of the other man any further.

He jumped when a hand grabbed his shoulder, kicking a leg out blindly.

"Relax, it's me."

Silly though it was, Seto did relax as soon as he registered Jounouchi's voice. His firm but careful touch.

"Here. I got you water from the minibar and a cool towel. It's unopened. I promise."

Seto stared helplessly at the two items being offered to him. Jounouchi made no moves, either. They were at a stalemate. At least until the other man sighed and pressed the moist towel to Seto's sweat-dampened forehead. His eyes fluttered closed, and he unleashed a faint moan at how good and chilly it felt.

"C'mon, you gotta drink the water, too. The whole bottle, then I promise to leave you alone."

Panic spiked through Seto's system. Being alone, something he never minded before, suddenly sounded unbearable. He didn't want Jounouchi to leave.

He reached out. Not to take the proffered bottle, as refreshing as its content may be, but to grab Jounouchi's forearm. Jounouchi froze under his clutch.

"You can't leave. I won't let you," said Seto before he could stop himself.

Jounouchi's breath hitched. As he stared at Seto's face, his eyes darkened with something unspeakable. He licked his lips. "Okay, not leaving. Not tonight. Guess someone's gotta keep an eye on you and make sure things don't take a turn for the worse. But you gotta at least let go of my arm. I'll take the couch outside."

Seto slid closer. "I want you—"

Jounouchi gasped. Seto could kiss him at that instant, but his head spun.

He wanted Jounouchi in every conceivable way. Wanted to feel his naked skin against his skin. Wanted to feel his weight pressing down on him as his cock pushed into Seto's hole. Wanted to shatter apart and then let Jounouchi piece him back together in the afterglow, warm and content.

He thought Jounouchi might grant him those things. If only he'd ask for them. But the words remained stubbornly lodged in his throat as sobriety started to creep in on the edges.

"I want you to stay with me," he whispered, holding Jounouchi's shell-shocked gaze.

Tonight and tomorrow. Maybe even for the rest of their lives. One day, Seto would give voice to the whole truth.

Read other prompt fill ficlets here

[missinconsistent]

The Selen situation is so much worse than I could have ever expected. I'm just gonna rant...

I could understand if she had been difficult in the past with getting the permissions that led to her termination. But the absolute audacity to blame her for their bad reputation when she was considered one of the best and most well-respected talents under them is just a slap in the face. More than any talent, Selen has probably accomplished the most passionate and collaborative experiences NijiEN had to offer- her HoloNiji Apex tournament, Wrestlesanji, her birthday concert, Niji Express and Obsydia Crossing in VR, and the list goes on. A lot of the big projects she has done were out of her own wallet with little in return. The termination statement couldn't show any ounce of appreciation for any of the hard work she's done. Selen was even intending on just graduating quietly and leaving it at that, but Niji terminated her out of the blue so they could delete all her content in the blink of an eye.

Did they think they'd have the upper hand if they had Selen leave the company on THEIR terms instead of her own? Couldn't they have at least just said "she was terminated for breaching contract" instead of a 3-page document about what they didn't like about her? And what's more is that they imply that some of the other Nijisanji livers have been harassing Selen?? Why did they shoot themselves in the foot and lead angry fans to witch hunt other livers??? People are pointing fingers now because Nijisanji is throwing ALL of their livers under the bus, rather than taking any crumb of responsibility for the toxic work environment within THEIR company that all the livers just work under!!

All the other livers are gonna be attacked because Niji completely fed into "the clique" rumours. Millie has been bombarded with hate because she was the only liver to reply to Selen when her Last Cup of Coffee cover got taken down. Or fans don't wanna show support for niji whatsoever, even if they are fans of the livers. And it sucks bc I know most of them were in Japan a few months ago working on some big things. Noctyx has their Level Up series that they've all worked extremely hard for. Krisis and TTT are still building their audience, and any new wave after this is just royally screwed. And there's probably gonna be more damning graduations after this, when Pomu and Kyo's graduation already left a bad start to the new year.

Why the fuck did they have to announce the termination on Vanta's birthday. And during Kyo's last two weeks before his graduation. And after they still promoted voice packs and merchandise with Selen still included in them. Why did they announce a termination at all when Selen was working towards a mutual end with them. Just what the fuck. I'm so mad about all this.

[artofgaryyeung]

It was my first time visiting Liverpool! Great city with beautiful architecture and my visit would not be complete without sketching one of the iconic buildings, Royal Liver Building!

IG artofgaryyeung

FB artofgaryyeung

[wolfephoto]

The Liver building by night by John Wolfe Via Flickr: Liverpool, UK

[planetgeorgesblog]

[kdante]

Stone Reality

Photo @kdante

Royal Liver buildings, Liverpool.

[ginandoldlace]

Liverpool from left to right The Royal Liver Building The Cunard Building and the Port of Liverpool Building

[ama979302]

The Royal Liver Building - Liverpool