#sir walter smith

[uispeccoll]

Happy #MiniatureMonday!

In 1983, Roger Middleton and the London Midsummer Press published Sir Walter Alexander Raleigh’s poem, “Wishes of an Elderly Man at a Garden Party, June 1914” for the first time in miniature book format. Sir Walter Alexander Raleigh was an English scholar, poet, author and Cambridge Apostle, best known for his position as Oxford’s first professor of English literature and many scholarly essays. 

The poem reads in full:

I WISH I loved the Human Race;

I wish I loved its silly face;

I wish I loved the way it walks;

I wish I loved the way it talks;

And when I'm introduced to one

I wish I thought What Jolly Fun!

Smith Miniatures Collection   PN1435 .W81 1983

--M Clark, Instruction Graduate Assistant

[bethanydelleman]

New Year's Resolutions for Jane Austen Characters (mid-novel) Part 2

George Wickham: Marry a heiress. Stop gambling lol, as if, that's what marrying the heiress is for.

Lady Catherine: Convince Darcy to follow through with his duty and honour of marrying my daughter Anne. Learn pianoforte

William Collins: Continue in the esteem of my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh in order to secure additional livings. My wonderful partner in life joins me in this goal.

Charlotte Collins: Convince husband to spend as much time in the garden as possible. Secure extra livings in order to gain more Mr. Collins-free time.

Georgiana Darcy: Practice harp at 10am sharp every day until fingering improves

Mrs. Jennings: Marry off every eligible girl within sight, beginning with the Miss Dashwoods.

Fanny Dashwood: 1. Suck up to mom to secure inheritance 2. Keep Edward & Elinor apart at all costs, 3. Hang out with this Steele girl to make Elinor jealous

John Willoughby: 1. Marry an heiress before my entire life explodes 2. Worm my way back into Mrs. Smith's good graces. 3. Marianne???

Sir John Middleton: 1. Go hunting 2. Host parties and balls 3. Make sure my tenants in Barton cottage are happy (Not actually goals, just what he does anyway)

Lady Middleton: Maintain the propriety of my great house and title while spoiling my children

John Thorpe: 1. Marry that rich heiress I so cleverly secured 2. Buy and sell horses for extravagant prices 3. Attend Belle & James's wedding (If I have time)

Isabella Thorpe: ❤️❤️❤️ Marry Captain Frederick Tilney ❤️❤️❤️

Jane Fairfax: *hands back the paper blank and blushes*

Frank Churchill: MARRY THE LOVE OF MY LIFE JANE FAIRFAX um, some girl I know. Don't tell my aunt, please

Mr. Elton & Mrs. Elton: keep being the hottest couple in Highbury *high five*

Dr. Grant: Eat a lot of yummy dinners (same goal since he was born)

Julia Bertram: Catch a better husband than Maria Keep partying with Maria

Mrs. Price: hire better servants, have Rebecca fix that carpet... I really have the worst servants in Portsmouth, it's a tragedy... (we cut off her complaints here)

William Price: MAKE LIEUTENANT

Sir Thomas: Finally figure out how to make Tom stay at home and do his duty as the eldest son. All the other kids are doing very well so I have nothing to improve there.

Sir Walter: There is nothing I would ever change about the amazing person that is myself.

Elizabeth Elliot: Marry Mr. Elliot and reestablish myself as the mistress of Kellynch

Lady Russell: encourage Anne to marry Mr. Elliot, read all new poetry publications

Mr. Elliot: Keep Sir Walter from marrying that vile seductress so I stay in the line of succession

Mrs. Clay: Marry Sir Walter, at all costs

Part 1

[amarguerite]

No one prompted this but I also have Thoughts on a golden age of mystery AU for Persuasion:

1) Christie-style country manor murder mystery, where someone is offed (possibly Mrs. Clay?) during the hand-over of Kellynch from Sir Walter to the Crofts

2) Fortunately Sophie’s younger brother Frederick emerged from the trenches/the bitter waters of the North Atlantic a world renowned private detective! He’s on the case!!

3) Anne is the key witness who doesn’t know it and her life is constantly being threatened. Not that anyone but Frederick notices or realizes this.

4) For a while it looks like Elizabeth found out her girlfriend Mrs. Clay was having an affair with Sir Walter and killed Mrs. Clay in a fit of jealous rage, but it was Mr. Elliot. Mrs. Smith provides Anne with some key clue that helps her realize Mr. Elliot murdered his first wife in the same way.

5) the Admiral cannot for the life of him figure out how to drive a motor car.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

I never realised before the loneliness and isolation of a commander at a time when such a momentous decision has to be taken, with the full knowledge that failure or success rests on his judgment alone.

- Lt.Gen. Walter Bedell Smith

General Dwight D. Eisenhower rose to that occasion with character and greatness when he made the fateful decision to launch D Day on 6 June 1944. But he couldn’t have done anything he planned without the support of his feared chief of staff, Brig. Gen. Walter Bedell Smith.

When Lt. Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower became commander of ETOUSA (European Theater of Operations United States Army) in June 1942 and began assembling his staff in London, the man he requested as his chief of staff was Brig. Gen. Walter Bedell Smith, at the time the secretary of the War Department General Staff. But Eisenhower’s boss, Gen. George Marshall, balked. Smith had impressed Marshall with his ability to cut through red tape and perform necessary hatchet jobs – to get things done fast and well – and he didn’t want to let Smith go. But finally, on Aug. 5, Marshall relented. Smith arrived in London on Sept. 10. In his biography, Eisenhower: A Soldier’s Life, historian Carlo D’Este wrote, “Eisenhower once remarked that every commander needs a son of a bitch to protect him and that the stone-faced Bedell Smith was his.”

Gustave Flaubert wrote, “You can calculate the worth of a man by the number of his enemies.” By that measure alone, Smith was not just a good chief of staff – he was a great one. Most people who came in contact with Smith hated and feared him – and with good reason. Smart, loyal to his bosses, articulate, incisive, and an excellent administrator, “Beetle” Smith was also intolerant, brusque, profane, rude, and ruthless.

Smith was also famous for his quick temper. Whether the result of his personality, or pain from a duodenal ulcer that occasionally forced him to be hospitalized, its volatility caused some exasperated senior officers to violate military protocol, bypass the chief of staff, and meet directly with Eisenhower to request transfers. Tellingly, Eisenhower tolerated that breach.

The position of chief of staff is often thankless. But it’s necessary. As one of the members of Eisenhower’s staff, Air Marshal Sir James Robb, later wrote, “Ike always had to have . . . someone who’d do the dirty work for him. He always had to have someone else do the firing, or the reprimanding, or give any order which he knew people would find unpleasant.” That someone was Smith and, whether or not he actually enjoyed that duty, everyone acknowledged that he was damned good at it.

Eisenhower often entrusted Smith to represent him in high-level strategic meetings, which led some people to remark that the reason Eisenhower did so was that Smith had a better strategic mind than his boss. Eisenhower’s esteem of Smith ultimately became so great that he told Marshall that if anything happened to cause him to be unable to carry out his duties as head of SHAEF, Marshall should, “after [General Omar] Bradley, select Bedell to take my place.”

Expanding on Eisenhower’s orders to have an “allied” command, Smith freely, and with great effect, utilized the technique of layering the different sections. Thus if one section had a British commanding officer, his deputy was an American, and vice versa. Smith also was a master of promoting informal communication channels, and his relatively informal staff conferences freed Eisenhower to concentrate on the most important or critical command decisions. Though problems did occur, that Eisenhower’s staff worked as smoothly as it did was a testament to Smith’s success as chief of staff.

[thethirdromana]

Hello there! 🦇

The October Dracula entries are heart-clenching and teeth-gritting, so I thought I might try my luck with a very light-hearted question:

What sort of terriers do you think Arthur conjured up at Carfax? That is, what breed might one expect from a Lord of his social standing? 😁

Toy terriers? Bullterriers? Bedlingtons? 🤔😁

(I ask you this as I have seen a few of your wonderful history-related posts - apologies if this is outside your cup of coffee! 😁)

Have a lovely day, anyway!

I have to admit that I know very little about the history of dog breeds and I don't really know where to start looking! But I'm going to have a go anyway.

I had assumed that Arthur's terriers are a bit unexpected for the son of Lord Godalming, who you might expect to be associated more with aristocratic hunting dogs, but Sir Walter Scott had a Dandie Dinmont terrier (the breed was named after a character in one of his novels) and Edward VII had a wire fox terrier. So that to me suggests that this isn't so much about social standing and is probably just about personal preference. There are definitely dogs that have upper/lower class connotations but terriers don't seem to have any particularly strong associations in that respect.

I had a look at A History and Description of the Modern Dogs of Great Britain and Ireland, part 1: The Terriers, published 1894. One thing we do know about Arthur's terriers is that they're excellent at catching rats. The book is particularly enthusiastic about bull terriers as rat-catchers:

I think I am quite correct in calling Jemmy Shaw's (London) extraordinary little rat-killer Jacko, a bull terrier, perhaps one fourth bull. This historical creature died in 1869, and amongst other deeds he succeeded in killing sixty rats in 2min 40sec; 100 rats in 5min 28sec; and 1000 rats in less than 100min!

I'm not sold on Arthur's dogs being bull terriers though, because a bull terrier is quite a sensible-looking dog:

That's not anything that can be described as a 'so little dog', as Van Helsing does. That's a serious dog. That's a dog with a job.

A History of Modern Dogs also notes ratting ability in Irish terriers, Scottish terriers, fox terriers, Dandie Dinmont terriers (which are now rare), black and tan terriers (which are now extinct), Airedale terriers... in fact, basically anything that's not a toy terrier, which is a pity because I really want Arthur's 'so little dogs' to be as little as possible.

So I think I would pick Dandie Dinmont terriers (left). Look at them! They are so little! And the association with Sir Walter Scott feels satisfying, in a Dracula context, since Mina talks about reading Marmion.

This also lets me talk about one of my favourite historical dogs, Callum, who was a Dandie Dinmont terrier. Here's Callum in a portrait from 1895, looking ferocious with a rat:

Callum belonged to Mr James Cowan Smith, who left £55,000 in his Will to the Scottish National Gallery (£3.2m today), but on the condition if they accepted it that they would display the portrait of Callum in the gallery. Permanently.

And he's still there today.

[cyarsk5230]

1. Sonya Massey - "I rebuke you in the name of Jesus." 2. George Floyd - "I can't breathe." 3. Eric Garner - "I can't breathe." 4. Michael Brown - "I don't have a gun. Stop shooting." 5. Philando Castile - "I wasn't reaching for it." 6. Breonna Taylor - "Why did you shoot me?" 7. Freddie Gray - "I need a doctor." 8. Tamir Rice - "It's not real." 9. Oscar Grant - "You shot me! I got a four-year-old daughter!" 10. Laquan McDonald - No audible last words; shot while walking away. 11. Elijah McClain - "I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I'm just different. I'm just different, that's all. I'm so sorry. I have no gun. I don't do that stuff. I don't do any fighting. Why are you attacking me?" 12. Alton Sterling - "What did I do?" 13. Walter Scott - "I’m just going home." 14. Botham Jean - "Why did you shoot me?" 15. Stephon Clark - "Grandma, call the police." 16. Atatiana Jefferson - "I’m here." 17. Sandra Bland - "Why am I being apprehended?" 18. Tony McDade - "I'm not armed." 19. Daniel Prude - "Give me your gun, I need it." 20. John Crawford III - "It's not real." 21. Manuel Ellis - "I can't breathe, sir." 22. Amadou Diallo - "Mom, I'm going to college." 23. Aiyana Stanley-Jones - No audible last words; shot while sleeping. 24. Terrence Crutcher - "I'm not doing anything." 25. Sean Bell - No audible last words; shot multiple times. 26. Jonathan Ferrell - No audible last words; shot while seeking help after a car crash. 27. Ezell Ford - "It's me, it’s me." 28. John Crawford III - "It's not real." 29. Renisha McBride - No audible last words; shot while seeking help after a car accident. 30. Kenneth Chamberlain Sr. - "Why are you doing this to me?" 31. Tamir Rice - "It's not real." 32. Eric Harris - "I'm losing my breath." 33. Jamar Clark - "Please don’t let me die." 34. Rayshard Brooks - "I don't want to hurt you." 35. Alfred Olango - "Please don’t shoot." 36. Shantel Davis - "What did I do?" 37. Kendra James - "Please don’t kill me." 38. Akai Gurley - No audible last words; shot in a dark stairwell. 39. Miriam Carey - No audible last words; shot in her car. 40. Timothy Russell - No audible last words; shot during a car chase. 41. Malissa Williams - No audible last words; shot during a car chase. 42. Jordan Edwards - No audible last words; shot while leaving a party. 43. Yvette Smith - "I'm coming out." 44. Jordan Davis - No audible last words; shot at a gas station. 45. Victor White III - No audible last words; died in police custody. 46. Dontre Hamilton - No audible last words; shot in a park. 47. Eric Reason - No audible last words; shot during a dispute. 48. Emantic "EJ" Bradford Jr. - No audible last words; shot in a mall. 49. Oscar Grant - "You shot me! I got a four-year-old daughter!" 50. Clinton Allen - No audible last words; shot during an encounter. 51. Ronnell Foster - No audible last words; shot during a foot chase. 52. Tony Robinson - No audible last words; shot during an altercation. 53. Charly Keunang - No audible last words; shot during an altercation. 54. Samuel DuBose - "I didn’t even do nothing." 55. Quintonio LeGrier - "I’m sorry." 56. Bettie Jones - "I've been shot." 57. India Kager - No audible last words; shot in a car. 58. Keith Lamont Scott - "Don't shoot him. He has no weapon." 59. Jordan Baker - No audible last words; shot during a confrontation. 60. Christian Taylor - No audible last words; shot during a confrontation. 61. Michael Dean - No audible last words; shot during a traffic stop. 62. Rumain Brisbon - No audible last words; shot during an altercation. 63. Gregory Gunn - No audible last words; shot during an encounter. 64. Yuvette Henderson - No audible last words; shot during a confrontation. 65. David Joseph - No audible last words; shot during a confrontation. 66. Calvin Reid - No audible last words; died in police custody. 67. Antonio Zambrano-Montes - No audible last words; shot during an encounter. 68. Zachary Hammond - "Why did you shoot me?"

69. Anthony Hill - No audible last words; shot while naked and unarmed.

70. Saheed Vassell - No audible last words; shot while holding a metal pipe.

71. Willie McCoy - No audible last words; shot while sleeping in a car.

72. Robert White - No audible last words; shot during an altercation.

73. Micheal Lorenzo Dean - No audible last words; shot during a traffic stop.

74. Monique Tillman - "I didn’t do anything wrong."

75. Randy Evans - No audible last words; died in police custody.

76. Vernell Bing Jr. - No audible last words; shot during a car chase.

77. Cameron Massey - No audible last words; shot during an altercation.

78. DeAndre Ballard - No audible last words; shot during a confrontation.

79. Maurice Gordon - "Can you let me out?"

80. Rayshard Brooks - "I don’t want to hurt you."

81. Pierre Loury - No audible last words; shot during a foot chase.

82. Deborah Danner - "I’m not feeling well."

83. Jason Harrison - "I’m sick."

84. Corey Jones - "Hold on, wait!"

85. Keith Childress - "Don't shoot."

86. Justine Damond - No audible last words; shot after calling 911.

87. Amilcar Perez-Lopez - No audible last words; shot during an altercation.

88. Mario Woods - "I'm not going to shoot you."

89. William Chapman II - "Don’t shoot me."

90. Chad Robertson - No audible last words; shot while running away.

91. Charlie Willie Kunzelman - No audible last words; shot during a confrontation.

92. Terrence Sterling - No audible last words; shot during a traffic stop.

93. Sylville Smith - "Why are you harassing me?"

94. Bruce Kelley Jr. - No audible last words; shot during an altercation.

95. Korryn Gaines - No audible last words; shot during a standoff.

96. Maurice Granton Jr. - No audible last words; shot during a foot chase.

97. Paul O'Neal - No audible last words; shot during a car chase.

98. Antwon Rose II - "Why are they shooting?"

99. Patrick Harmon - "I’ll go with you."

100. Aaron Bailey - "Why did you shoot me?"

101. Miles Hall - "No! Don't do it!"

[lgbtqreads]

hi!! i know this has beeb asked before but not for a while and I thought there might be some releases since then, so : any Queer High Fantasy? I've been recommended Priory of the Orange Tree before. Thank you!!

Not sure when the last time was but here’s what’s currently on my radar! (You can also find these here, and an asterisk means it’s not out yet: https://lgbtqreads.com/sff/spec-fic-by-subgenre/) I bolded some of the ones that are newer or coming out in the next few months.

MG

*Splinter & Ash by Marieke Nijkamp – NB

Sir Callie by Esme Symes-Smith – NB

YA

Female Protags

The Winter Duke by Claire Eliza Bartlett

The Never Tilting World by Rin Chupeco – L

Queen of Coin and Whispers by Helen Corcoran

Of Fire and Stars by Audrey Coulthurst – L,B

Inkmistress by Audrey Coulthurst – B

The Impostor Queen by Sarah Fine – B

Noble Falling and Noble Persuasion by Sara Gaines

Rule by Ellen Goodlett

Havenfall by Sara Holland

*Hearts Forged in Dragon Fire by Erica Hollis

The Afterward by EK Johnston

Empirium by Claire Legrand – B

Belle Révolte by Linsey Miller – BA

These Feathered Flames by Alexandra Overy

The Midnight Lie by Marie Rutkoski

It Ends in Fire by Andrew Shvarts

Beneath the Citadel by Destiny Soria – B, A

The Third Daughter and The Second Son by Adrienne Tooley

Shatter the Sky by Rebecca Kim Wells – B

The Thousand Names by Django Wexler

Male Protags

Cloaked in Shadow by Ben Alderson

The Runebinder Chronicles by Alex R. Kahler

Skybound by Alex London

So This is Ever After by F.T. Lukens

Beneath the Citadel by Destiny Soria

The Sunbearer Trials by Aiden Thomas – T

Non-Binary Protags

Spell Bound by FT Lukens

Mask of Shadows by Linsey Miller – GF

*A Hundred Vicious Turns by Lee Paige O’Brien

Adult

Female Protags

A Broken Blade by Melissa Blair

Tales of Inthya by Effie Calvin

The Vanished Queen by Lisbeth Campbell

Rook & Rose by M.A. Carrick

The Night and its Moon by Piper CJ

The Unbroken by C.L. Clark

*Warmongers by C.L. Clark

The Gardener’s Hand by Felicia Davin

*The Water Outlaws by S.L. Huang

Dragonfall by L.R. Lam

The Unspoken Name by A.K. Larkwood

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

From Under the Mountain by C.M. Spivey

The Drowning Empire by Andrea Stewart (Amz)

The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri

Malice by Heather Walter

When Women Were Warriors series by Catherine M. Wilson

Male Protags

Kirith Kirin by Jim Grimsley

The Cadeleonian series by Ginn Hale

Tales From Verania by T.J. Klune

A Chorus of Dragons by Jenn Lyons

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

*Dark Moon, Shallow Sea by David R. Slayton

Stagsblood Trilogy by Gideon E. Wood

Genderqueer Protags

*The Water Outlaws by S.L. Huang

[starspray]

Writing Patterns - Closing Lines

thanks for the tag, @dreamingthroughthenoise!

Last lines of my ten most recent fics:

Fair as the First Snowdrop in Spring - Elrond smiled. “You will be the first to know of it,” he promised.

Driftwood - Even if no one else knew what it meant, at least this small piece of his grandfather—the maker, the teacher, rather than the king—would live on.

Aloft in Splendor - “Odd manners,” Sir Walter remarked to Lady Russel, as Elizabeth sighed beside him, “but very talented, I am sure. And such a fine looking man!”

Staging a Battle - “I might, at that,” said Pippin.

Leaf and Branch, Water and Stone - Many long years and many long miles from Menegroth, beneath the golden boughs of Lothlórien, Galadriel sang her most powerful songs of concealment and of safety into eight cloaks, already woven with the enchantments and skills of her handmaidens (she smiled, a little, thinking of Samwise and his talk of Elf-magic), and to them each she fixed a brooch, as a gift for the dark times ahead, that the Fellowship might see them and remember the beauty and rest of Lórien, and take heart that they remained in the thoughts of its Lady.

Sand Sorcery - But they are beautiful while they last, and as he dozes beneath his own dunes in his cove, Psamathos smiles to himself.

Beneath the Mountain Music Woke - Gimli smiled. “Anyone can hear them,” he said. “But only we and Mahal know their meanings.”

Greatest of Feasts - Smith, though, smiled and remembered both a marvelous cake with a secret and enchanted gift inside, and hard-crusted rolls he had taken on his journeys, tucked carefully into his pockets or pack, and how they had never once gone stale.

Making Gifts - A very fine afternoon, indeed.

Upon Cirith Thoronath - It rains that night. The next morning, though there is none there to see, a small yellow flower blooms between two of the stones of the cairn.

I'm not quite sure what sort of pattern to read into these. Also most of these (all but 3) were written for Ekphrasis Week, so the pattern there is rather obvious. I think I tend to reserve a paragraph of its own for many of my last lines. I hadn't actually realized the last line of Leaf and Branch was all one sentence until just now, but that tracks. I end on dialogue a little less often than I'd expected tbh.

I think mostly I like ending on a bright note, though the first one is umm not that bright if you take into account the context and dramatic irony.

Not sure who's all been tagged by now so gonna tag @dangerously-human @arofili @naryaflame @saelind-edain and @grundyscribbling with apologies if you've already done it!

[thatscarletflycatcher]

So, there's this famous quote (and source of many memes) from Northanger Abbey, where Henry Tilney says:

“and this is a very nice day, and we are taking a very nice walk, and you are two very nice young ladies. Oh! It is a very nice word indeed! It does for everything. Originally perhaps it was applied only to express neatness, propriety, delicacy, or refinement—people were nice in their dress, in their sentiments, or their choice. But now every commendation on every subject is comprised in that one word.” (chapter 14)

Indeed, Jane doesn't seem to like the word that much, at least in this novel: of the 14 times it is used, 3 happen before this exchange, 10 during it, and then one last time in chapter 29.

It appears

7 times in Pride and Prejudice (used mainly by Lydia, but also by Mrs Bennet, Mrs Gardiner and Lady Catherine);

12 in Sense and Sensibility (by sir John, Marianne, Edward, Mrs Palmer, and Mrs Jennings most of all);

17 in Emma (by Harriet, Mr Woodhouse, Emma, Miss Bates, Mrs Elton, and Mr Weston);

15 in Mansfield Park (by Mrs Grant, Mrs Norris, Mary, Tom, Mr Crawford, Maria, and Edmund);

12 in Persuasion (by Elizabeth, Wentworth, Admiral Croft, Mr Elliot, Mary

But of those, none are used by the narrator in NA; 2 in P&P; 3 in S&S; 5 in Emma; 4 in MP; and 6 in Persuasion (and I'm including all indirect speech). Very nice.

But you know what generic, vague descriptor our beloved Jane loved? fine.

NA: 33 times (18 from dialogue: used my Mrs Thorpe, Mr Allen, Mrs Allen, John Thorpe, Catherine, a miss Thorpe, Isabella, Tilney, and Mrs Morland.)

P&P: 40 times (21 in dialogue: used by Mrs Bennet, Charlotte, Lizzy, Darcy, Caroline, Mrs Gardiner, Mrs Reynolds, and Mr Bennet)

S&S: 29 times (17 in dialogue: used by Willoughby, Marianne, Edward most of all, Mrs Palmer, Anne Steele, and Mrs Jennings)

Emma: 48 times (33 in dialogue: used by Harriet, Mr Woodhouse, Mr Knightley, Emma, Miss Bates, Jane Fairfax, Mr Weston, Frank, Mrs Cole, Mrs Elton)

MP: 67 times (38 in dialogue: used by Mr Rushworth, Lady Bertram, Edmund, Mrs Norris, Fanny, Mrs Grant, Dr Grant, Mr Crawford, William, Mrs Price, Mr Price, and Mary)

Persuasion: 35 times (17 in dialogue: by Mrs Musgrove, Mrs Croft, Charles Musgrove, Sir Walter, Admiral Croft, Captain Wentworth, lady Dalrymple, Harriet Smith).

Not only is fine used much, much more than nice, but nice is most often used by silly or unrefined characters, whereas fine sees more representation of all sorts of characters, and it is used by the narrator specifically, much, much more, not only to describe weather, but to describe people, places, clothes, and so on and so forth.

So, dear Jane, I think we need to talk...

[werewolf-swag-competition]

The moon is rising...

The werewolves that have gathered are:

Alice "Daisy" Tonner (The Magnus Archives)

Alphonse (Sir William and the Wolf)

Angua von Überwald (Discworld)

Anton (What we do in the Shadows)

Big and will be Bad Wolf (Lobotomy Corporation)

Bisclavret (Bisclaveret)

Catalina Schnitz (Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure)

Clawd Wolf (Monster High)

Daniel "Oz" Osbourne (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Father Gascoigne (Bloodborne)

Farkas (Skyrim)

Jack Howl (Twisted Wonderland)

Jack Russel (Marvel Comics)

Jawbone O'Shaughnessey (Dimension 20)

Julie (Moonstruck)

Laurence the First Vicar (Bloodborne)

Link (Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess)

Lycaon son of Pelagus (Greek Mythology)

Maddy Smith (Wolfblood)

Malaya Walters (How to be a Werewolf)

Mason Greyback (Wizards of Waverly Place)

Mebh Óg MacTíre (Wolfwalkers)

Paul Schue-Horyn (Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye)

Quentin Collins (Dark Shadows)

Rendog (Hermitcraft)

Ruby/Little Red Riding Hood (One Upon a Time)

Scott McCall (Teen Wolf)

Sonic the Werehog (Sonic Unleashed)

Wayne (Hotel Transylvania)

Werewolf Cookie (Cookie Run)

Will Blake (Goosebumps)

Yaretzi (Hello from the Hallowoods)

"But wait a moment!!" you may say. "Where's David? Where's Chetney? Where's Scott? WHERE'S CLAWDEEN???" and for that, I direct you to @werewolfbattle ! I decided to give other characters a chance and eliminate characters who made it far in that contest. I think that's fair. The semi finals are still happening, so go ahead and vote there!

[bethanydelleman]

Jane Austen Charted #19

Last Names in Jane Austen

Despite re-using first names frequently, Jane Austen reuses very few last names in her works. She uses 201 unique last names over her six novels and Lady Susan. Here are all the last names, thick border around those that are re-used.

Colour key first:

The last name “Smith” is used in every novel except for Pride & Prejudice. Usually it is used for a non-consequential character, until Persuasion subverts that expectation. Sir Walter even talks about how Smiths are insignificant as a last name.

Mr. King (Northanger Abbey) and Mr. Repton (Mansfield Park) are in fact real people.

The only heroine with a re-used last name is Anne Elliot. Robert brags about knowing a Lady Elliot in Sense & Sensibility.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 3

Chapter 3: If You Want To View Paradise

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Fandom: Night Hunter

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC 

Word count: 5.5K

Summary: Kamaria Mansfield is hired at the Minnesota Police Department as an intern. Detective Walter Marshall is overworked and unsatisfied. Takes place post-film.

Chapter Summary: Walter and Kamaria explore aspects of their relationship, including control and vulnerability. This chapter is pretty emotional, so heed the warnings!

Chapter warnings: Walter says ‘Fuck’ a lot, soft!Dom!Walter, spicy texting, sexting, unrealistic working hours of a detective I’m sure of it, emotional moments, flashback to a violent incident, aftercare

A/N: Very Walter-centric chapter. I wanted to get inside his head. But also, Kamaria is my protagonist, so I made her the beginning and end of the chapter. Un-beta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Cross-posted on AO3

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Kamaria’s POV

Monday Night

I had to call him Sir at least once. For science. Just to see if my hypothesis was correct. And it was. Seems my ‘handsome stranger’ likes to be in charge. And I like the thought of him in charge. A few other thoughts run through my mind at that.

My shyness went right out the door! I can’t believe I just told this man that his growl went straight to my kittycat. Well, I did use an emoji. But he understood very well.

And he didn’t have to growl like that and get me all hot and bothered, had me squeezing my thighs together the whole ride home.

And he called me Princess! My submissive ass was salivating so I had to drop another ‘Yes Sir’.

I ate my salad and got into bed so quickly to sate this need, my head could have spun. After I quenched my appetite in various ways, a thought occurred to me. What happens now? How do I act around him, knowing what I know and what he knows? 

I’ll figure that shit out later, I guess. My brain is fried and my clit is blitzed. Put a fork in me, cuz I’m done. 

Damn, I can’t wait til I’m wrecked because of him…

Walter’s POV

Tuesday Morning

I wake up to my phone trumpeting ‘How Soon Is Now?’ by The Smiths. I’m still in my clothes from last night, my half-hard dick still out. Awesome. I gently tuck myself back in, noting that the skin is still sensitive to the touch. I did promise to beat it like it owed me money.

I silence my phone and think back to last night. Texting with Kam had been…enlightening. Turns out my suspicions were correct. She likes to be submissive, maybe even a little bratty too. I’ll tame her only if she gets out of line. 

Can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. If she liked the growl, she’ll enjoy my feral side. But I won’t get ahead of myself. Haven’t even kissed her yet.

Yet being the keyword. I plan on devouring her lips. Both sets. There I go getting ahead of myself again. I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing.

I shoot her a quick text, I want her to know I’m thinking of her.

Me: Good morning Beautiful

I set my phone to the side and get undressed to take a shower. As I’m getting the water to temperature, my phone dings twice.

Kam: No ‘Princess’?

Kam: 🥺

That fucking emoji is gonna be the death of me, I am declaring it right now.

Me: Good morning beautiful Princess

Me: Is that better?

Kam: Yessssssss

Kam: NOW I can start my day 😉

Kam: How did you sleep?

Me: I passed right out after a little…strenuous activity.

Let’s see how she handles that.

Kam: I also passed out after some ‘strenuous activity’.

Kam: A shame we couldn’t have coordinated that better…

Sounds like she handled that like a champ, and she is insinuating we could have helped each other. This woman!

Me: Are you saying we could have…

Me: Helped each other, Princess?

A full thirty seconds pass before my phone dings again. By that time, I am already in the shower. She will just have to wait. And I will have to wait as well, even though I could just as easily look at the lock screen from the shower door. Nah, patience is the key here. Patience for me and perhaps anxiety for her. I finish my shower, not toweling off, and reach for my phone which has dinged multiple times by now.

Kam: I mean there is always FaceTime

Kam: And I do live pretty close to work

Kam: So in essence, we are probably close to each other

Kam: Not that I’m saying I’m ready for a FaceTime booty call

Kam: Or another kind of booty call

Kam: It’s been…a while for me 🥺

Me: How long has it been Princess?

Kam: Over a year 😫

A fucking year? And no one has turned that pussy into mincemeat? Why am I suddenly angry? I know why. It’s because my brain can’t fathom this woman not getting everything she wants all the time.

Me: Was that by choice? Bad breakup? 

Kam: You don’t know the half of it. 

Kam: But I wanna tell you about it. Just not over text, in person is better.

Me: I’m all ears. When you’re ready.

Me: There is no rush Princess

Kam: Thank you Sir, ok I need to shower and get ready

Me: I already showered

Me: [image sent]

Why the fuck do I always have sender’s remorse? It’s only my chest, not my dick or anything. Oh, but my Adonis belt is visible a tad. And I’m still wet from the shower.

Kam: 🥵🥵🥵

Kam: Sir!!! 

Kam: That’s what you’re hiding under those layers??

Me: Lol 

Kam: I wanna rub my hands through that thicket of hair

Me: And here I thought Princess was a shy one

Kam: Oh, I’m not as shy with texting…

Kam: I haven’t even kissed you yet

Kam: And I’m already thinking of other ways to use my mouth

Kam: 🤤😛

Kam: How am I gonna focus at work?

Me: Keep calm and Carry On Princess

Kam: 😡

There’s my little brat. Let’s see how far she takes it.

Me: Is that backtalk??

Kam: NO!!!!!!

Kam: I just…am frustrated now

And she can reign it in after a little encouragement. I like that.

Me: Good. Stay frustrated. 

Kam: 🥺

Me: Get ready for work Princess

Me: I’ll see you soon

Me: Text me when you get there

And with that, I put down my phone and get ready for my day and ignore whether or not my phone dings.

Walter’s POV

Tuesday Morning (continued)

I’m out the door after a while, ending up in the parking lot. Not in my usual spot as it was taken by a cute little silver Toyota, the driver checking herself out in the rearview mirror. I could crash this truck staring at her.

Me: You’re at work

Me: But I didn’t receive a text telling me so

Me: Hmm 🤔

Kam: I swear I just got here

Kam: I promise!!

Kam: Wait where are you??

Me: Be a good girl and go on in

Kam: Yes Sir

Not even an ounce of brattiness. Just an obeyed command. Fuck. I watch as she exits her car and locks it, walking towards the entrance. I exit my vehicle, just to the left of her, watching as she walks right by and into the building, smiling as she does. I notice she is wearing a heather grey box-pleat skirt and the way it hugs that ass is magical, the tops of her pink thigh-high socks are visibly hugging those deliciously thick thighs.

I send off a few texts as I follow behind her a few paces back.

Me: Hate to see you go

Me: Love to watch you leave 

Me: 🍑

Me: A thing of beauty

I wait until she looks up at me from her phone screen and I toss her a grin, brushing past her as I walk to my office. Imperceptibly to anyone else around us, of course. We just look like two colleagues exchanging pleasantries.

Kam: Thank you 😊

Kam: Have to get to work now Sir

Me: Good girl

Me: Busy day today, but I’ll be sure to walk you out later

Me: See you then

Kam: See you later Sir

And with that, I ignore my phone for the rest of the day. 

Not that I had to, Kam behaved herself. Every time I peeked at her desk, I saw that she was typing away on whatever assignment she was given. She goes out to lunch with the twins again today. I’m glad she is forming a routine here. Something to keep her busy on days I can’t seem to get a break. Like today.

Rachel barges in around 3 pm, fire in her eyes. No doubt something went wrong with the search teams this morning.

I was right, in a way.

“He lied,” Rachel scowls, throwing down the map of the bodies, “Not about the first four. The last body on this map isn’t who he said it would be. Why lie? I mean, after all the work you did to get it out of him. After all the work I put into this.” She sits in the chair across from me defeatedly.

Even after all this time, it’s hard to watch her be upset.

“Look, this is still a win. Even if he only gave us four out of five, that’s four more than we originally had. Four families can lay their loved ones to rest,” I tilt my head to try and reason with her, “This guy probably doesn’t even realize that he just made his situation worse by exposing that information.”

“You’re right. This is a win,” she blows out a satisfied breath, “I mean, if anything, now we have six confirmed kills. How often do killers bury their victims in the same place as another killer right?” 

It would almost be comical if it wasn’t about murder.

“Exactly. Now, we need to get the location of that last body. Are you up for that?” I ask, secretly hoping she wants me to rough him up again.

“Yeah, I got this. If I need you, I’ll send Harper to come to collect you,” She stands up and reaches for my hand over the desk. 

I take hers, knowing she just needed a positive touch in that moment. “You got this,” I say, letting her hand go after a slight squeeze.

“Detective Marshall?” Kamaria stands in my doorway, file in one hand, the hem of her pink button-up sweater clutched in the other hand. 

Fuck.

Rachel lets go of my hand a little too slowly, waving as she hightails it out of my office.

“Um, the file you requested on, uh,-”

“That wasn’t what it looked like, Kam,” I get up and close the door slightly, making sure Rachel is down the hall. I stand just within arm’s reach.

“So, you weren’t holding her hand?” Her bottom lip quivers and I hate myself for being the cause of it.

“I did hold her hand, but it was nothing more than a friendly gesture. She’s dealing with a tough case at the moment. I just wanted to let her know I’m here for her. I promise that’s all.” I’m rambling now, it would seem.

“And you don’t like her?” She clutches the file to her chest, not yet looking me in the eye.

“I used to like her,” I watch as she stiffens slightly, “Now I barely tolerate her. She’s my ex.”

She finally looks up at me, an unshed tear in her eye. “Do you like me?”

“Yes,” I take the file from her hands and throw it on my desk. Using my thumb, I wipe at the tear as it threatens to fall upon her cheek, “I like you.”

“I like you too, I promise I’m not some jealous little girl and I probably have no right to be anyway. I just don’t have a good history with my ex and I saw her hand in yours and I…just…” She rattled on, wrapping her arms around herself and clutching the fabric of her sweater through shaky fingers.

“You have every right to be confused right now. I comforted my ex, the ex who literally told me she doesn’t need me. But let me make one thing clear,” I take her hands in mine and lean down so my forehead touches hers, “Yours are the hands I want to hold.” 

I can feel her breathing pick up as she tilts her head to look from the door back to me. I don’t see the kiss coming, but the surprise of it has me reeling. Feeling her lips against mine is like breathing for the first time. Our tongues mingling is akin to tasting water after being in the desert. My hands long to wander but settle against her face. Our first kiss ends in panting breaths and passion restrained.

“Fuck,” is all I can croak out.

“Ditto,” she smiles, landing another peck at the corner of my mouth. 

“Do you have plans tonight?” I put feelers out, wondering if she’d like to continue this.

“You tell me, Sir,” she is delighted when that response earns her a low growl. We are so close, I’m sure she can feel it rumble in my chest.

“Let me cook for you at my place tonight. We can talk and spend time together,” I press, hoping this isn’t too soon to invite her over.

“I’d like that,” she leans back to look into my eyes, “May I have one more kiss? Just one and then I’ll go and let you get back to work.”

“Just one?” I ask, sly grin unhidden. She nods, biting her bottom lip. I reach up and tug that lip free of her teeth and lean in. I debate saying ‘No’ to watch her squirm, but we both need this.

I put my hand behind her head and slot our mouths together. Promises untold and wishes unmade dream up an expanse that we occupy for a few moments more. We pull back to catch our breaths, and before I take her right here on my desk.

“Go back to work, Princess. We have about,” I check my watch and look back to her, “An hour and a half til the end of the day. Think you can make it without letting your mind wander too much?” I question. My thumb is ghosting over her bottom lip before she takes the digit into her mouth, letting it go with a little sucking sound. That goes right to my dick and it takes everything out of me to not adjust right myself right in front of her.

“I can handle it, Sir” she murmured, stamping a kiss on the tip of my nose, “The question is, can you?” She moves to back out of the office, but I pull her back in, spinning her around so that her back is flush against me.

I growl lowly, nuzzling into her ear while holding her hips against the evidence of her handiwork. “Feel that, Princess? That is all your doing. No one else does that to me,” I admitted, letting her try and squirm against me before guiding her toward the door again, “Feel free to think about that, and thanks again for the file.” I bellow, smiling at her as I opened the door for her to leave.

She is visibly flustered but wipes it away before going back to her desk without another word. This is too much fun. 

Walter’s POV

Tuesday Evening

At about twelve after five, a knock on my door pulls my attention. Kamaria stands there, holding her coat and purse while dramatically checking a non-existent watch on her wrist. 

“Quarter past a freckle, is it?” I shake my head and she laughs, coming all the way into the office. 

“A freckle, indeed,” she teased, “I have a request, by the way. And you’re more than welcome to deny the said request. But you did also say that ‘mine are the hands you want to hold’ though”, she encouraged while doing a spot-on posh English accent to mimic my words. 

“And your request would be…?” I wondered, watching as her face adorably scrunches up in thought, “Does Princess want to hold my hand as we walk out?” The look of disbelief on her face is 100% worth overcoming my fear of public displays of affection.

“How…ok, maybe I did make it a bit obvious. But I also wanna see Nina and Sophie’s faces when they realize I wasn’t joking about having my eye on someone. They kept trying to get me to talk to the waiter at the diner and give him my number.” She twirls one of her locs around a finger, while I push down the urge to get jealous about a waiter making eyes at her.

“I’ll hold your hand on the way out, under one condition,” She tilts her head and raises her eyebrows as I speak, curious about what she’ll have to agree to. “You let me eat you out tonight until I’m satisfied. No more, no less.” I dared, searching her eyes for intimidation of any kind.

“Hold up, you’ll hold my hand AND you wanna eat me out? Say less! Let’s get out of here, Sir,” she gushed, no doubt forgetting the phrase ‘until I’m satisfied’. 

She’ll remember soon enough.

I stand up, grabbing my coat from the hook by the door. I reach out my hand to hold hers, and she smiles, locking our fingers. We walk out of my office, and down the hallway. I throw on my coat and help Kam into hers. The baffled faces of the twins as we walk by are more than enough, but the sputtering Nina does as I kiss Kam’s cheek is enough to do it all over again. Kam waves goodnight to her friends and we exit the building.

We walk to her car and I make sure she has my address programmed into her phone’s GPS before kissing her through the open car window. I get in my truck, pull out and wait for her to follow me. Before long, we are in the driveway and I’m taking her hand to help her out.

Walter’s POV

Tuesday Evening (continued)

While I am in the kitchen, whipping up a quick penne alfredo, I allow Kam to roam through the living room. She turns on a playlist from her phone to play on my Bluetooth speaker. She seems to like music that she can move to, and I do enjoy watching. As I set up our plates on the dining room table, I watch as she sways to a favorite of mine, ‘Human’ by Rag’n’Bone Man. 

‘Oh, some people got the real problems

Some people out of luck

Some people think I can solve them

Lord heavens above

I'm only human after all

I'm only human after all

Don't put the blame on me

Don't put the blame on me’

I walk up behind her and slot my arms around her waist, swaying along with her. “Dinner is ready, Princess,” I informed, leaning to kiss her cheek. She beams at me, peeking around me at the table.

“It smells wonderful and I am starving,” she piped over the sound of the music. 

She turns the volume down on the speaker and switches it to some light classical music. I recognize a piano arrangement of ‘Pure Imagination’ as she comes to join me at the table. I pull out her chair for her and she allows me to do so, my love language on full display. I sit across from her and nod for her to eat.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone cook for me before. I’m in my early thirties and I’m being romanticized and I’ll be honest, I don’t quite understand how to process this,” she says, twirling some noodles on her fork, “So, I’m doing what I always do and I’m letting my brain force words out of my mouth at high speed.” She stops herself, shoving almost too much food into her mouth and the most sinful moan follows. Noticing the smile on my face as I chew my first bite, she realizes all too quickly that I enjoy her sounds as she does mine.

“Good?” I surmise as she tries to hide her enjoyment.

“Very good,” she nods, stopping before taking another bite, “I absolutely love pasta. I’ve never met a pasta I don’t like. From a simple spaghetti to an intricate tagliatelli. I fucking love it. I love food. I’m sure that’s evident, right?” She shakes her head at herself, no doubt berating herself for putting herself down.

I put my fork down and put my hand over hers. “You know, it’s not hard to see your inner struggle with self-confidence. But, if I may say, the way you immediately try and correct yourself is astounding. In the same breath, you reign it in. A lot of us wish we had the same power. Don’t sell yourself so short.” I posit, trying to reassure her.

“I know that self-confidence is not exactly my strong suit. But I am confident about certain things in my life. Like my fashion sense and my taste in music,” she pauses, putting down her fork, “But before you? My preference for companionship left a lot to be desired.”

“How so?” I prod, giving her the space to talk freely.

“Um, that’s a long story honestly. But I want you to know the long and short of it, so I’ll just come out with it. I was in a long-term Dom/sub relationship where I was emotionally abused. And he went on to cheat on me multiple times…with my best friend of all people, which is why I find it difficult to trust most people. When I find a connection with someone, I tend to latch on to them tightly or push them away completely. I feel like I only know two emotions sometimes. Fear and loneliness.” Her hands reflexively flex, as if they are grabbing at the air. I place mine over hers and squeeze, urging her to continue.

“My ex, Christopher, and I met in college where we were art majors. He was absolutely beautiful. Sun-kissed skin, gorgeous blonde hair like spun gold, and these eyes that could draw you in making you feel like you were the only one in the room. We were like night and day, complete opposites. But he was relentless in his pursuit of me. He used to say I was his muse, a real starving artist type, ya know? Even though his parents paid for everything. Pretty soon, he moved me into his loft, with promises of love and understanding and I fell for every line he could throw out. Every lie, I fell for. Every half-truth, I believed. I was in love and nothing else mattered.” She squeezes my hand, and I rub the back of hers with my thumb.

“Soon after I agreed to marry him, he began to refer to me as his property. I was his, but he was never truly mine. He would comment on my weight, restricting my diet and putting on what I later realized were diet pills. He would say my best friend Britnee and I would be the perfect soulmate for him if we could somehow meld our personalities and bodies together. I would just laugh, I had no idea that I was being abused. I thought I was just in love with someone who wanted me to be better for them. And by better, what it really meant was, completely different. He wanted a doll. Someone he could parade around and do hideous acts to. Someone who wouldn’t complain about being mistreated.” Her breathing picks up and her eyes become vacant.

“He had never raised his hand to me in anger until the night I found out he and Britnee were having sex. There were times, of course, when he would take a ‘scene’ too far but I was able to bury those after a while. I told him I was leaving. He told me I couldn’t leave because I had no one to run to. That was true, my mother had given up on me completely when I was a child because she never wanted to be a mother. And my Dad was halfway across the world, working on his photography career. I was alone except for those two people who were draining me. One who treated me like a doormat and one who wanted what I had, weirdly enough. I walked in on them in our fucking bed and he gets mad at me, punching me full-force in the jaw. I barely reacted, I just knew I was done. When I say I barely reacted, it is a slight misjudgment of action. I picked up the nearest thing I could, my old sculpture of a heart I did my first week of art school and I hit him over the head with it.” I can only stifle a gasp, not sure where this was headed, but my interest was piqued tenfold at that moment.

“I hit him so hard that it knocked him out, and gave him a bit of brain damage as well. My Dad always told me that if a man raises his hands to a woman, she has every right to defend herself to whatever degree necessary. So, I did. And he never pressed charges against me. I doubt he even really remembers a lot of what he did. If he did, pressing charges would only shed light on the emotional abuse I suffered, so why bother?” She peeks at me for a second before continuing.

“I left that night. Never saw Britnee again either. And last I heard, Christopher was in rehab and quit art school. I was hospitalized soon after. I had gone to class for weeks after the incident until one day, I just stood up in class and started screaming and wouldn’t stop until EMTs were called and I was sedated. It was like my energy reserves were finally depleted. I had nothing left to hold onto. I was in the hospital for a week or two, medicated and getting therapy to deal with PTSD from being with a narcissistic lover and a terrible best friend. Until Nina and Sophia, I gave up on finding friends and letting people in. They still don’t know the details, but they know I had a bad breakup over a year ago. But I wanted to tell you the truth, I want you to know everything. So you can decide if I’m worth it.” She adds in the last sentence almost as a whisper.

“Where is Christopher now?” I coaxed, worried about her safety.

“Last I heard, and that was a year ago, he moved with his Dad back to Europe to be closer to his family. He still doesn’t remember what happened and I’m not sure I want him to.”

I place my hand on her cheek, ghosting over her warm skin. “Thank you for telling me. It means a lot to me that you would trust me with your past enough to bring me into the loop. And, please, believe me, this only makes me understand you more. It does not make me want to stop getting to know you.” She latches on to my hand where it rests on her cheek and locks eyes with me.

“Even after all I’ve said, you still want to be with me?” She chokes out, her armor cracking under the pressure of her truth.

“Of course I do, Princess. I, very much, still want to be with you. If you’ll let me,” I let go of her as she rounds the dining table and falls into my lap, crying her eyes out. “Shhh, I’m here, baby girl.” I cling to her in my arms, as tight as I can manage to try and convey that she is truly safe now.

I pick her up in my arms and carry her to the couch. I hold her in my lap and rest her head on my chest, running my thumb along her cheek as tears fall. “I’m right here, I’m not letting go.” I hum, rocking her back and forth in my arms.

“I…don’t like…seeming…weak,” she cries, still trying to hold onto a strong thread of her past.

“And you don’t seem weak. You are so strong for telling me. So strong. And I am so proud of you. Now, let me be strong for you, ok? You just reopened some old wounds and your body and spirit are going to need to rest. So let them. And I’ll be right here when you’re ready to talk again. I’m not going anywhere, Angel.” I kiss her forehead as she settles into me.

“You…wanted to…be intimate. I ruined it,” she whimpers, clutching my arms as I hold her tight.

“No, you didn’t ruin a thing. Don’t worry about that, my main concern is your safety and your comfort. You will never be alone as long as I’m here, I promise you that. Now, rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” I feel her body snuggle down and relax into me. 

Kamaria’s POV

Tuesday Evening 

I awake late in the evening, still perched on Walter’s lap. His arms are still around me, his head tilted against the back of the couch. Soft snores escape his lips, his chest rising and falling in a comforting rhythm. I look at the clock on the bookshelf as it blinks at 9:27. The Bluetooth speaker now softly playing ‘Clair de Lune’. 

I look back to Walter as he shifts in his sleep, never letting me go. The serenity in which we sit contradicts our earlier conversation. I try and reconcile that I needed aftercare after speaking about my past relationship. I did lay it all out on the line, I’m actually not that surprised that my entire body needed a recharge.

I listen to the song float on to the ending and reach up to caress Walter’s face. He slowly smiles, eyes still closed, turning his head to kiss my palm.

“There’s my Angel,” he looks down at me, “How are you feeling?”

“Lighter, like a weight, has been lifted,” I sighed, placing my hand on his chest, “You’re the first person outside of my therapist to know about all this.”

“Thank you for letting me in, for trusting me with it,” he cooed, placing his hand over mine.

“For the record? I also like being called Angel, especially in this kind of setting,” I admit, not wanting to use the word and risk embarrassment.

“Do you mean especially during aftercare?” he soothed, no doubt reading my mind.

“Yes,” I mumble, cuddling into him, “and I really like to hear ‘Clair de Lune’. It helps to ground me.”

“Alright. I think I’ve got it. Hold you tight, call you Angel, and play your comfort song. We’ll add to the list if need be.” His sweet voice is truly a marvel to go along with his massive frame.

We look into each other’s eyes for a beat, leaning in at the same time to press our lips together. Not as passionate as earlier in the day, but it doesn’t need to be. This kiss is more of a tenderness than a need to thrill.

“I think I need to head home, I really am still quite tired and need to let you get rest,” I mutter, secretly hoping he doesn’t ask me to stay, not knowing whether or not I’m ready to stay.

“Yes, it is late. And I wouldn’t want you feeling too tired for work tomorrow,” he cautioned, lifting himself effortlessly with me still in his arms. He places me down on my feet and kisses my forehead. “I’ll walk you to your car, Princess.”

My tiny hand in his massive paw genuinely makes my heart flutter as we take our time to kiss goodbye, leaning against my car. I could kiss him until the sun rises, but instead, he pulls away and straightens my coat collar around my neck. I’m not used to being cared for and I think he can tell, but he still does the most anyway. Before he lets me go, he pulls off his sweater and shoves it in my hands, making me promise to text him when I get home. Did I just get a ‘boyfriend sweater’ shoved at me? 

I get home, immediately shedding layers in the bedroom and putting on his sweater, sending a quick text.

Me: Home now!

Walter Marshall: Is it weird I gave you a jumper and not a hoodie?

Me: It smells like you, I’ll take all the jumpers you wanna donate

Walter Marshall: You’re wearing it now aren’t you

Me: [image sent]

Walter Marshall: It suits you

Walter Marshall: Godddd those legs

Walter Marshall: Can’t wait to have them wrapped around me

Me: Around your shoulders or your hips?

Me: 😈

Walter Marshall: Both?

Walter Marshall: Both.

Walter Marshall: Both are good.

Me: Dork

Walter Marshall: You like this dork and he likes you back so what does that make you

Me: Seriously lucky 😇

Walter Marshall: Good. 

Walter Marshall: It’s late Princess

Walter Marshall: Ready for bed?

Me: Ready

Me: Cuddle me?

Walter Marshall: Always

Walter Marshall: Night Princess

Me: Night Sir

A/N: It was touch and go there for a second, hope you enjoyed it!! 💜💙

Chapter 4

**Tag List**

Henry Fanfiction: @enchantedbytomandhenry

Bright Like The Moon: @geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @liveoncoffeeandflowersss   Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz! 😁

[partisan-by-default]

If you want to invoke ACAB (made popular in the 1970s by skinheads before being used post George Flloyd), let it be to resist this, and not to denigrate a BIPOC prosecutor. If nothing else… this first. - Anonymous

Sonya Massey - "I rebuke you in the name of Jesus."

George Floyd - "I can't breathe."

Eric Garner - "I can't breathe."

Michael Brown - "I don't have a gun. Stop shooting."

Philando Castile - "I wasn't reaching for it."

Breonna Taylor - "Why did you shoot me?"

Freddie Gray - "I need a doctor."

Tamir Rice - "It's not real."

Oscar Grant - "You shot me! I got a four-year-old daughter!"

Laquan McDonald - No audible last words; shot while walking away.

Elijah McClain - "I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I'm just different. I'm just different, that's all. I'm so sorry. I have no gun. I don't do that stuff. I don't do any fighting. Why are you attacking me?"

Alton Sterling - "What did I do?"

Walter Scott - "I’m just going home."

Botham Jean - "Why did you shoot me?"

Stephon Clark - "Grandma, call the police."

Atatiana Jefferson - "I’m here."

Sandra Bland - "Why am I being apprehended?"

Tony McDade - "I'm not armed."

Daniel Prude - "Give me your gun, I need it."

John Crawford III - "It's not real."

Manuel Ellis - "I can't breathe, sir."

Amadou Diallo - "Mom, I'm going to college."

Aiyana Stanley-Jones - No audible last words; shot while sleeping.

Terrence Crutcher - "I'm not doing anything."

Sean Bell - No audible last words; shot multiple times.

Jonathan Ferrell - No audible last words; shot while seeking help after a car crash.

Ezell Ford - "It's me, it’s me."

John Crawford III - "It's not real."

Renisha McBride - No audible last words; shot while seeking help after a car accident.

Kenneth Chamberlain Sr. - "Why are you doing this to me?"

Tamir Rice - "It's not real."

Eric Harris - "I'm losing my breath."

Jamar Clark - "Please don’t let me die."

Rayshard Brooks - "I don't want to hurt you."

Alfred Olango - "Please don’t shoot."

Shantel Davis - "What did I do?"

Kendra James - "Please don’t kill me."

Akai Gurley - No audible last words; shot in a dark stairwell.

Miriam Carey - No audible last words; shot in her car.

Timothy Russell - No audible last words; shot during a car chase.

Malissa Williams - No audible last words; shot during a car chase.

Jordan Edwards - No audible last words; shot while leaving a party.

Yvette Smith - "I'm coming out."

Jordan Davis - No audible last words; shot at a gas station.

Victor White III - No audible last words; died in police custody.

Dontre Hamilton - No audible last words; shot in a park.

Eric Reason - No audible last words; shot during a dispute.

Emantic "EJ" Bradford Jr. - No audible last words; shot in a mall.

Oscar Grant - "You shot me! I got a four-year-old daughter!"

Clinton Allen - No audible last words; shot during an encounter.

Ronnell Foster - No audible last words; shot during a foot chase.

Tony Robinson - No audible last words; shot during an altercation.

Charly Keunang - No audible last words; shot during an altercation.

Samuel DuBose - "I didn’t even do nothing."

Quintonio LeGrier - "I’m sorry."

Bettie Jones - "I've been shot."

India Kager - No audible last words; shot in a car.

Keith Lamont Scott - "Don't shoot him. He has no weapon."

Jordan Baker - No audible last words; shot during a confrontation.

Christian Taylor - No audible last words; shot during a confrontation.

Michael Dean - No audible last words; shot during a traffic stop.

Rumain Brisbon - No audible last words; shot during an altercation.

Gregory Gunn - No audible last words; shot during an encounter.

Yuvette Henderson - No audible last words; shot during a confrontation.

David Joseph - No audible last words; shot during a confrontation.

Calvin Reid - No audible last words; died in police custody.

Antonio Zambrano-Montes - No audible last words; shot during an encounter.

Zachary Hammond - "Why did you shoot me?"

Anthony Hill - No audible last words; shot while naked and unarmed.

Saheed Vassell - No audible last words; shot while holding a metal pipe.

Willie McCoy - No audible last words; shot while sleeping in a car.

Robert White - No audible last words; shot during an altercation.

Micheal Lorenzo Dean - No audible last words; shot during a traffic stop.

Monique Tillman - "I didn’t do anything wrong."

Randy Evans - No audible last words; died in police custody.

Vernell Bing Jr. - No audible last words; shot during a car chase.

Cameron Massey - No audible last words; shot during an altercation.

DeAndre Ballard - No audible last words; shot during a confrontation.

Maurice Gordon - "Can you let me out?"

Rayshard Brooks - "I don’t want to hurt you."

Pierre Loury - No audible last words; shot during a foot chase.

Deborah Danner - "I’m not feeling well."

Jason Harrison - "I’m sick."

Corey Jones - "Hold on, wait!"

Keith Childress - "Don't shoot."

Justine Damond - No audible last words; shot after calling 911.

Amilcar Perez-Lopez - No audible last words; shot during an altercation.

Mario Woods - "I'm not going to shoot you."

William Chapman II - "Don’t shoot me."

Chad Robertson - No audible last words; shot while running away.

Charlie Willie Kunzelman - No audible last words; shot during a confrontation.

Terrence Sterling - No audible last words; shot during a traffic stop.

Sylville Smith - "Why are you harassing me?"

Bruce Kelley Jr. - No audible last words; shot during an altercation.

Korryn Gaines - No audible last words; shot during a standoff.

Maurice Granton Jr. - No audible last words; shot during a foot chase.

Paul O'Neal - No audible last words; shot during a car chase.

Antwon Rose II - "Why are they shooting?"

Patrick Harmon - "I’ll go with you."

Aaron Bailey - "Why did you shoot me?"

Miles Hall - "No! Don't do it!

Justin Horton Smith- Can’t breathe.

[showmethesneer]

Sir Walter when Anne wants to visit Mrs Smith:

[blairstales]

Running Water in Scottish Folklore

There are many sacred springs said to have different types of supernatural powers in Scotland, but even just a regular stream had many uses in folklore. One of these uses is protection from evil creatures, spirits, fairies, or ghosts.

What this meant is that if you are being chased by a supernatural evil, all you had to do was jump over a stream of running water. Like a wall, that water would prevent the creature from getting to you.

This is why some stories feature a fairy trying to convince a human to cross a stream to be on the same side as the fairy. In other stories, the fairy is trying to catch a human before they can get to the water.

For example, in one of the most popular stories of a Nuckelavee, a man manages to get away from the frightening creature by jumping a stream.

“Tammie saw his opportunity, and ran with all his might; and sore need had he to run, for Nuckelavee had turned and was galloping after him, and bellowing with a sound like the roaring of the sea. In front of Tammie lay a rivulet, through which the surplus water of the loch found its way to the sea, and Tammie knew, if he could only cross the running water, he was safe; so he strained every nerve. As he reached the near bank another clutch was made at him by the long arms. Tammie made a desperate spring and reached the other side, leaving his bonnet in the monster’s clutches. Nuckelavee gave a wild unearthly yell of disappointed rage as Tammie fell senseless on the safe side of the water.” Scottish Fairy and Folk Tales by Sir walter Scott(1893)

English: Scottish fairy tale “Nuckelavee”. Caption: Tammie felt the wind of nuckelavee’s clutches. Source: Scottish Fairy and Folk Tales

How exactly the water works can change slightly depending on the area or the story.

For example, some believed the direction of the water mattered.

“This, particularly southward-running water, is holy, and cannot be passed by evil spirits.” A Encyclopedia of Fairies by Katharine Briggs (Published in 1976)

In “The Water-horse in Bracadale,” a water horse is chasing a young girl, who manages to make it to a stream. The story specifies that the water only gained power by the call of a rooster.

"Over the stream leapt the terror- stricken maiden, just as the cock began to crow in Balgowan, the Smith’s Hamlet. Now, this cock’s crowing meant the saving of the girl’s life, since it acted as a spell on the enraged water-horse, who thus was hindered from crossing the stream. In this wise the maiden escaped to her home but the water-horse cried after her : "DuilicJi c, duilich e, alltan! Sad it is, sad it is, streamlet ! ” And to this day the little stream flowing by the church of Bracadale goes by the name of the Alltan Duilich, the Difficult Streamlet. The Water-horse in Bracadale. " The Peat-Fire Flame: Folk-Tales and Traditions of the Highlands and Islands by Alasdair Alpin MacGregor (1937)

Most often, however, you will come across stories where it is any running water that can protect you.

One interesting addition to the folklore is that it is only creatures or ghosts with evil intent that can not cross the streams. This explains why certain fairies that live in running water could also be blocked by it.

“Some authorities hold that the good folk are not averse to crossing running water . It is only a wicked class of them whose powers are blunted by traversing flowing streams .” Folk Lore in Lowland Scotland by Evelyn Blantyre Simpson (1908)

BONUS HISTORIC AUDIO RECORDINGS

(link) People believed that if there was running water between a person and a ghost or evil spirit he would be safe. They also believed that water from the place where three burns met would cure ailments.

(link) Annie Johnston explains that this song was composed by a fairy woman. She was trying to entice a herdsman to cross a river and come into a fairy hill. She could not cross water.

[scotianostra]

n July 25th 2002 George Bruce, the Scottish poet, broadcaster and critic, died at the age of 93.

George was eldest son of Henry George Bruce, the owner of a firm of herring curers, and his wife Jeannie Roberta Gray, daughter of a timber merchant. Although he was to spend most of his life away from Fraserburgh, the town and the north-east coast of Aberdeenshire were in his blood, as his poetry attested, and he remained a ‘Brocher’, which is the Doric word for someone from Fraserburgh.

Bruce was one of the poets of the Scottish literary renaissance, initiated by Hugh MacDiarmid in the 1920s, which brought to prominence Sorley Maclean, Norman MacCaig, George Mackay Brown, Hamish Henderson and Iain Crichton Smith. He became well-known as the producer of Counterpoint, Scotland’s first television arts programme.

In 1970 he left the BBC, becoming Glasgow University’s first fellow in creative writing. As well as publishing poetry and anthologies, he was for 12 years a theatre and literary critic for The Sunday Times.

Over a period of 60 years he was to publish eight books of poetry in both English and Scots; he also edited six anthologies of poetry, and seven books on Scottish art and culture.

In August 2022 George Bruce became the latest poet to be honoureed with a slab at Makars Court beside the Writers Museum.

Bruce now rubs stony shoulders with Sir Walter Scott, Robert Louis Stevenson, Muriel Spark and others at Makars’ Court where his memorial flagstone is inscribed with his name and the line:

The sea trembles - voiceless It is the rare moment when a word is sought. (from Pursuit. Poems 1986-1998. Haiku Envoi).

The ceremony was attended by Bruce’s family, friends, and fellow poets including former Edinburgh Makar Alan Spence, who spoke of his friendship with Bruce and read some of his poetry. George’s son David Bruce also gave a moving tribute to his father.