#tb: the cross

[augustusaugustus]

14.98 The Cross

SKASE: What’s she like? BOULTON: Young

Why is Rod dressed like a Mormon missionary?

BOULTON: I got him, though, didn’t I, Guv? LONG: Only just. And only by jeopardising his wife and losing the evidence. BOULTON: I still got him.

I love John’s I’ve-been-a-naughty-boy smirk he does when he’s been told off.

Kerry’s first episode. In the past, I always found her a bit too much of a goody-goody, but we’ll see what I think this watch-through. If nothing else, she’s very nice to look at.

[craigslisthorses]

They said this "blue eyed stallion horse" is 3 but idk he doesn't look a day over 1 and he's emaciated as fuck. Also he's only $860 if someone wants to save him from this mess

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Nurses and volunteers selling Christmas Seals for the campaign against tuberculosis, ca. 1922. They are wearing the Cross of Lorraine, associated with the American Lung Association. From left to right, they are Misses O'Connor, Tilton, V. Johnson, M. Johnson, D'Assia, Marie Otis Smith, Elaine Otis Smith, and Lawrence.

Photo: Paul Thompson via FPG/Getty Images

[petrovna-zamo]

The Bald & The Beautiful in Montreal!

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera - Ch 30 - Introduce

It’s been a while… nearly a fortnight, but they’re back ;)

What went before

I struggled with this one, dunno why, but most of the good ideas and one-liners are down to @sofasurf! So much so I’m tagging her in for the next one.

This chapter is 100% silly friends being silly and daft brothers being daft because everyone needs to let their hair down once in a while… And they need a break before anything else falls on anyone…

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…

The three “your contact is typing” dots bounced for a while then stopped. Then bounced again. Then stopped.

She put the phone down and continued to make breakfast but within moments picked it up again, intrigued. What was he taking so long to write?

…

…

How’s your day?

…

Did you know stress balls are not actually indestructible???

Um, yeah - I’m a primary school teacher. That’s basically day 1 of training.

Huh.

I sense there is a story behind this… sharing is caring you know?

THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO BE INDESTRUCTIBLE!

O….K…. Imagine me saying generic reassuring things and patting you on the shoulder.

My shoulder is covered in stress ball goop. But thank you, that weirdly helps.

🤭 oh dear… that stuff is a beast to wash out

Well there’s another Italian tailor I have to avoid for the rest of my life…

Not again!

I have glitter in my hair 😭

I’m sure it looks beautiful. I’ll ask one of your brothers to send me a photo.

I’m not getting out the shower until it’s gone.

You will literally starve to death.

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So today I had to confiscate an action figure which had Alan’s head, John’s torso and your limbs. Should I be concerned about these children?

That’s… horrifying. I’m never coming back to the UK. 😲

They all say hi by the way.

I’m too scared to say hi back to them now 😬

On the topic of the action figures…

Yes?

I have to know - what WAS wrong with Gordon’s novelty action figure of you? You never told me…

You don’t want to know.

Oh I really really do.

…

Oh go on, I’ll only be imagining worse.

…

The figure was making pancakes while wearing a frilly blue “Kiss The Chef” apron.

That doesn’t seem so bad?

Only the apron.

Oh my… 🤣

Speak of this to no-one.

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Hey Estera, got any plans this evening?

Aside from vegging out with Bez and watching Celebrity Alligator Wrestling?

I mean I wouldn’t want to tear you away from that…

I could be persuaded… :)

Well, we happen to be in Europe right now (John had a thing) and Penny is visiting some Earl near Exeter and suggested we pop by and go out for a drink.

John’s not Earthside very often so she takes whatever chances she can get to catch up with him (they are old college friends, did I ever mention that?)

ANYWAY as it’s not far from you I wondered whether you might like to join us?

Oh wow thank you that’s very kind of you to think of me! It would be lovely to meet John and Lady Penelope if you’re sure I wouldn’t be intruding?

Of course not!

Virgil is with us too and says you have to come because he’s already bored with mine and John’s company.

Ok, I must now tell you that he did not in fact use those exact words.

Or to say that.

Apparently I am maddening.

Hi Estera, it’s Virgil. Please ignore what my idiot brother is saying. It would be lovely to see you if you’d like to come but please don’t feel any pressure.

Girjebvaxbnnnnn&&&&&&&

It’s Scott again, I’ve retrieved my comm. Sorry about my annoying TINY LITTLE BABY sibling who snatches things that aren’t his.

😂 I think I’m sold. I can get to Exeter in an hour? Where and when should I meet you?

John says the place is near the Cathedral - send a message when you get there and I’ll come and find you?

Fab! Ok I shall do that.

Ha!

What?

F-A-B is kind of a thing for us.

Oh! Oh I should have known that!

Reuben and Alex refuse to use any other affirmative words.

Why though?

Long story, tell you later maybe.

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Estera rounded the corner of the cathedral and yelped as a strong gust nearly ripped her arm off in its determination to steal her umbrella. She wrestled it back and ducked into the shelter of the huge doorway only to conclude she should have let the wind take it as it was no longer any use to anyone other than as an art piece. “Mangled: A study in nylon and flimsy aluminium” perhaps. She tucked it under her arm and pulled out her phone:

Hi! I’m on The Green :) Don’t worry about coming out in all this, just let me know where you are and I’ll find you.

On my way!

Scott! It’s chucking it down! Just give me directions or somewhere to aim for.

I like the rain!

You’re a nutter.

A what?

… err British for ‘totally normal and rational’.

OK I will take your word for that and begin using ‘nutter’ regularly in a professional context.

Um… sure. I see no issues arising there.

😝 alright then

I think I see you!

She looked up and laughed as she spotted a lanky figure silhouetted against a streetlamp waving enthusiastically from across the green. She raised her arm in greeting, pulled her hood tighter around her face and then jogged towards him. She started out dodging the huge puddles with strictly limited success then gave up in favour of a direct route, swerving off course just the once to dump the useless brolly in a waste bin.

As soggy as she felt she was by the time their paths met, she wasn’t a patch on the drowned-but-grinning rat bouncing gently on his toes before her, hair plastered to his forehead and shirt clinging to him in a way she was relieved Barbara the receptionist couldn’t see.

Wait, shirt?

“Scott! I KNOW you own a coat.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “It always takes so long to dry the thing out. Cotton is fast.”

“Aren’t you freezing?”

“Nope!” He grinned and produced an umbrella with a flourish, pressing a button to automatically extend and open it and then raising it over her head in one smooth motion. The little squeak he emitted as he did so was anything but smooth however.

“Did I just hear an excited giggle from Mr Commander Tracy?”

“Also nope. Definitely not. Unrelatedly aren’t these just-press-the-button-and-SWOOSH-it’s-an-umbrella umbrellas just the best kind of umbrellas?”

Estera raised an eyebrow and wondered with amusement how many drinks he’d managed to put away already. “Certainly beats mine which I just ditched back there…” she looked at him smiling down at her from very much outside the umbrella’s zone of protection, water streaming down his face “although, given you have such a swanky brolly why did you not actually use it?”

“I told you, I like the rain.”

Estera raised an eyebrow. “Well, you’d do well living here then, we get a lot of it.” Shuddering slightly she shook water out of her sleeve. “Shall we get where we’re going before we grow gills?”

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“He’s going to get absolutely soaked isn’t he?”

Virgil watched his elder brother stroll casually towards the doorway and then launch himself out into the rain like an excited puppy. He couldn’t help smiling fondly.

“You know what he’s like about rain, John. Anyway the wet shirt look isn’t going to do him any harm is it…?”

“VIRGIL! Honestly you’re impossible.” John’s facepalm was a masterpiece.

“Well, before he brings this young lady back, somebody had best update me on what, exactly, we believe her status is.”

“Virgil is convinced they are an item. Scott denies it.”

“I didn’t say that. I just think she’s good for him. He is happy. I like that. So I’m inclined to like her. And if we’re about to meet our future sister-in-law that’s fine by me.”

Penelope chuckled, Virgil the hopeless romantic was certainly living up to expectation. John was frowning slightly however and that intrigued her.

“What do you think, John darling?”

“I’m interested in what has him so… interested. They seem to spend a lot of time talking, yet all I can see they have in common is shared trauma and an unhealthy approach to adrenaline.”

“That is more than many people have when beginning a friendship, John. That doesn’t mean it is all there will ever be. Look at you and I, all we had in common was the inability to escape the weight of our surnames and yet we’ve had some superb times.”

John smiled and raised his lemonade in a silent toast.

“Well, I’m excited” Virgil commented. “Let’s not scare her by being too… you know.” he gestured vaguely.

“Excellent social etiquette tip, there, thank you Virgil.” his brother muttered.

Penelope smiled into her cocktail. This was going to be an interesting evening.

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“You ok?”

Estera had slowed almost imperceptibly as they approached the door to the boutique pub Penny had selected and Scott paused as they reached the shelter of the porch, his hand resting on the heavy oak door.

“Yes! Uh, a little nervous I guess? Last time I spoke to John I was… rather embarrassing.”

“Aww, no you weren’t. You were just worried about me and that’ll go in your favour I promise. It’s pretty much a family pastime from what I can make out…” he pulled an exaggerated grimace and got a little smile in response.

“I can imagine.” She appeared to be steeling herself.

“They don’t bite, I promise. But…” he touched her shoulder lightly and ducked down a little to look her in the eye “if you’d rather not… we could go somewhere else and I can catch up with them later?”

“Oh goodness no. I’m looking forward to it. Honestly, I am! Let’s go inside, it’s freezing out here.”

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“Hey look, John, Estera found a drowned puppy!”

“Goodness, doesn’t it look tragic?”

Penelope leaned backwards away from Scott as he responded to his brothers’ banter by shaking himself like a dog and showering the table with droplets from his hair before wringing his sleeve out down the back of Virgil’s collar who himself yelped like Sherbet in a snowdrift.

“Right for that you’re buying the next round big brother.”

“And this is novel, how?”

His friend hung back a little, watching the interaction with a mixture of amusement and mild confusion. Penelope gestured to Estera to take a seat beside her and cut across the brotherly jibing:

“Might it be an appropriate moment to introduce us Scott?”

The supposedly eldest and most mature of the pack looked up from where he’d flung his arms around John’s neck in what was clearly a weaponised soggy hug and smiled impishly before moving over and crouching down next to Estera’s chair.

“Estera, this is Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward - she is as lovely as she is fabulous and I’m sure you’ll get along.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a moment. And please call me Penny!”

Estera smiled and offered a hand which Penny grasped with both of hers and gave her a conspiratorial wink.

Scott cleared his throat importantly “Next, I am delighted to present for your approval Annoying-Little-Brother-One who also goes by don’t-call-me-Johnny”

“Ha. Ha. Scooter. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Estera, although why you are wasting your time in the company of this absolute fool I cannot fathom.”

“And last but very much not least, either in importance or sheer bulk, here is Annoying-Little-Brother-Two who we refer to as short-stuff, the-tank, care-bear or, occasionally, Virgil”

Virgil leaned across the table to shake her hand. “You do realise what an insufferable creature our eldest brother is don’t you?”

“Oh yes, spotted that one straight away.”

Scott clutched his chest and gasped “I am hurt! A plague o’ both houses! I am sped!” before collapsing on to his back with melodramatic flailing and a range of choking noises before lying still with his tongue lolling and eyes rolled back.

Penelope giggled delicately while Estera tutted and rolled her eyes.

“You still have a couple of paragraphs of monologue before you’re allowed to expire, Mercutio. C+ must try harder.”

Scott pouted while John held up his hand for a high five.

Penelope caught Virgil’s eye and he grinned.

“Death doesn’t get you out of your round big bro. Get your soggy butt off the floor and over to the bar while we fill Estera in on some key anecdotes.”

Scott’s expression of dread wasn’t melodrama at all.

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Chapter 31…

[sumeragi-hokuto]

Tokyo Babylon

By CLAMP, volume 5

[dbssh]

mtmte is hell because you will have one of the most interesting disabled characters in the entire franchise with one of the most lovingly rendered character arcs ive ever read and at the same time james roberts calls characters slurs and constantly makes a joke and caricature out of the same issues he tries to be So Serious about

[mknewsmedia]

People are always seen jaywalking in Dhaka streets although there are hundreds of foot bridges and zebra crossings across the city. A rhesus monkey is seen attempting to cross the Gulshan Avenue using the zebra crossing at Section 2 in Gulshan recently. A security guard of a nearby building said a monkey couple lives in the trees of the surrounding area and they often cross the road. Photo: MUMIT M         

[thelaurenshippen]

holy shit, this fucking RULES!!!! HAPPY TEN YEARS TO ONE OF THE GREATS!!!!!!!

I first got into Wolf and met Gabriel right here on tumblr dot com. if memory serves, I made a post about the show being described as "about the advantages of floating, tiny and alone, in the middle of nowhere” and if that was a Sondheim reference. that, as I would learn through many posts that ultimately constituted the beginnings of our friendship, was a siren call for Gabriel Urbina. we bonded over Sondheim and making audio drama - that was the spring of 2016 and by the spring of 2017, we were going to see Pacific Overtures (which opens with the song "The Advantages of Floating in the Middle of the Sea") off-broadway:

throughout that time, I also got to know Zach and Sarah and the rest of the Wolf team--Sarah, Zach, Ceci, and I all went to the very first PatreCon together, after which Zach and I road tripped down the PCH; they've all been to my parents' house in NY and hung out with my sister (here with Gabriel and I at the show); I saw Emma last time she was in Seattle and got to benefit from her incredible wine expertise; all of them have given me immense creative inspiration, incredible advice, unwavering support, and deep friendship.

Gabriel and I still talk regularly about our work and the industry - we recently sent each other our current scripts we're developing and Gabriel, as always, gave me amazing feedback and oh my god you guys are going to lose it when you eventually hear what Gabriel has been working on. those early days of AD renaissance feel so far away now, that sometimes I lose sight of just how much these people - who could have just remained respected colleagues - have been fully woven into my life. I wouldn't have it any other way.

what's more, I genuinely have such crazed fangirl feelings for Wolf 359. it's not just a show I love because I love the people who made it, I'm a genuine freak about it. I remember sneaking away from my family on christmas to listen to the finale (which, like, what the FUCK guys, on christmas!?!) and crying because of how good it was. it is still the number 1 show I send to people when they need examples of how much you can do in audio.

so happy ten years, pals. I love you all a lot.

8.15.2024: Happy [ Ten Years of Wolf 359!! ] 💫📻

In celebration, @avesmonster and I have spent this year organizing an anthology of fanworks, and I'm so happy to finally be able to share it. It's such a labor of love from everyone involved, and it's incredible to see how passionate people still are about this show. We received over 50 (!!) submissions, both old and new, so please, please check it out, let everyone know how awesome their work is, & leave a comment on our guestbook, while you're there!!

[minakoainosupremacy]

Ok I’ve seen a ton of polls asking which senshi is your favorite, but I’m curious about people’s motivations for who their favorites are, and in what ways we relate to and connect with different characters. What kinds of connections do different characters emulate with viewers? How do people see the senshi in terms of friendship and compatibility? Who do people feel like they would connect with the most? Which senshi would be the most popular if they were people irl? Do our perceptions of the senshi change when we think about them in relation to the show as opposed to thinking about them as individuals/individual entities? Are our motivations for liking characters different from senshi to senshi? For instance, on almost every poll I saw, Mako was the most popular senshi. Do people love Mako because they see aspects of themselves in her? Do people love Mako because they want to be friends with her? Do people love Mako because of how she interacts with the other characters, and thus she might be less popular out of context or in a different context? Do they love her for her character and personality, and if so, specifically in or out of context of the show? Or do they just think she’s super cool? What drives us to like these characters, and what kinds of connections are we making when we feel more connected to one character vs another?

[pulchramsolis]

❛ you’re my family too. ❜ @panthcraleo

Abrogail's blue eyes have taken on a wild quality as she views the scattering of silks and brocades over her room. It has been a whirlwind since Larys and the Queen told her she would be marrying Lord Tyland. Not even the snipping jealousy of her half-sister and cerelle. Both displeased for their own variety of reasons.

She doesn't care though. She only cares for her dearest Nell, and what angers and betrayal she must feel at it all. So when the blonde speaks her words, the wildness seeps out of Abrogail's shoulders. She slumps then, relief washing through her as she throws herself into her friend's (stepdaughter??) arms and holds her tightly.

"Always, always you will by family. I do not need some wedding ring to make that truth," she promises, cupping Lyonella's cheeks. "I only hope @hamcrtia is not so angry with me..."

[hihomeghere]

Salt and Pepper | Arthur Morgan / Reader

Word count : 1.4k Summary : Arthur notices his hair is starting to gray. I saw a post on here about Arthur with salt and pepper hair and I couldn’t stop myself hehe. Warnings/Tags : talk about death, getting old, Arthur loves his wife, no tb, Arthur and reader own a house, mention of past gang members, cursing, lots of fluff, self deprecation on Arthur’s side, bullets, mention of weight gain (in a positive way)

“Godamn ugly bastard.” Arthur huffed, his gaze piercing as he looked into the mirror. He hadn’t meant to have himself a pity party this morning. In fact he was feeling quite fine this morning before looking in the small bathroom mirror. Waking up next to you always puts a spring in his step. Especially when he’s waking up in a real bed, underneath a soft quilt that you happened to sew in some free time. Mismatched patches and all, it was his favorite thing in the small home you two shared. Hell, you were becoming quite domestic ever since the house was completed.

But he wasn’t exactly expecting to find gray hair sprouting from his hairline. He wasn’t that old, was he?

“Jesus.” He sighed, inspecting further he realized it wasn’t one or two gray hairs, it was almost twenty. Hidden under his longer than normal locks after forgoing a haircut for the last couple weeks. He was surprised you hadn’t noticed them, especially with how much you loved to run your fingers through his hair. Although, he loved it just as much, maybe even more.

God, he needed to get rid of these before you saw them. He was sure you had some tweezers around here somewhere. He opened up your drawer, rifling around for your tweezers. Bingo. His hands gripped the small piece of metal, a triumphant smile on his face.

It was only once he looked back up into the mirror, determined to fix this issue before you woke up, that he noticed you padding into the bathroom. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you wrapped your arms around his middle.

“Mornin’.” You hummed, laying your cheek against his bicep, smiling sweetly at him through the mirror.

“Mornin’.” He said, clearing his throat.

“What do you need those for?” You asked, eyeing the tweezers in his hand. Caught red handed, he tried coming up with some excuse.

“Nothin’ sweetheart.” He said, giving you his signature smile, kissing your forehead. He slipped the tweezers into his pocket for safe keeping, at least until he had a free moment without you around. After all those years on the run and he could come up with nothing, Hosea would have been so disappointed in his lack of an answer. He swore he could hear the old man chastising him now.

“For a former outlaw you sure are an awful liar.” You tutted, shaking your head, slipping your fingers into his pocket and pulling out the tweezers.

“Well it ain’t my fault,” He huffed playfully, “Could never get nothin’ past you anyway.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. You removed your hands from around his waist, leaning back on the sink as you looked up at him.

“Spill.” You said raising an eyebrow, your arms crossed over your chest.

Knowing he’d been caught, Arthur hung his head, a low sigh leaving his lips.

“It’s just-“ He cursed, turning to look away from you, “Well I’m goin’ gray.” He admitted, not meeting your eyes.

“And?” You asked in such a nonchalant manner.

“And?” He asked looking up at you, his brows furrowed.

“So you have some gray hairs.” You said with a shrug, “You’re acting like the damn world is ending.” You chuckled softly, a smile tugging on your lips.

“Well-“ Arthur sighed, pursing his lips, he didn’t want to be vain but damn it, it did feel like the world was ending.

“Honey.” You said softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Ain’t nothing wrong with some gray hairs.” You said, shaking your head, looking so goddamn patient as always. What he did in a past life to deserve you he would never know, he definitely didn’t deserve you in this one. You smiled, running your thumb over his couple day old stubble. He couldn’t help but sigh softly, leaning into your touch.

“Just makes me feel old ‘s all.” He shrugged, closing his eyes.

“Arthur.” You said softly, he opened his eyes. His bright azure pools looking into yours. “Getting old means we’re still alive.” You said pointedly, not missing the way your fingers trailed lightly down his chest.

He sighed softly, anyone who said he was the most like Hosea had obviously never had a one on one conversation with you. You had shared the same dry wit along with being just as wise as the old man. Sometimes he wondered if the two of you were more closely related than just being adopted by him as a kid.

As your hand settled over his heart, he couldn’t help but remember a time when you didn’t have this place. When his next breath had been an undeserved blessing. When you and Charles had pulled his broken body off that godforsaken mountain. You were right, he should be grateful for these gray hairs and new lines on his face. Should be grateful that he made it this far out west with you, where the air was dryer and slowly his lungs didn’t hurt as bad with each breath.

If anything he should be grateful that you’re here, here in this house. The house that he built specifically for you. That you’re not buried six feet under like most of the fellow gang members. That you didn’t catch a bullet like Lenny or Sean, how he wished they could have had the chance to grown old. Even as mouthy as Sean was, the poor bastard didn’t deserve that. Lenny was just a boy, foolish enough to be sucked in by Dutch’s silver tongue. He shook his head trying to clear any thoughts of the past.

God, along with the fact that somehow both of you still happen to be standing, the fact that you chose to stand by him after everything you went through makes his head swim. You could have left him at any point, hell he had begged you to leave after his death sentence. And yet, here you were.

“Guess you’re right.” He said, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Course I am.” You teased, a smile spreading across your face. You leaned forward, brushing your nose against his. He accepted your silent invitation, pressing his lips against yours. So soft and warm and inviting. He could feel you smile against his lips. That small smile warmed him from the inside out, nearly making his toes curl.

Jesus, he was lucky. More than lucky, he still couldn’t figure out how he had tricked you into marrying him. He wanted to be the best version of himself for you, he had made a promise to try every day to be a better man for you. You shouldn’t be tied down to a miserable old fool like himself.

As if you could read his mind, which he often suspected you could, your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Besides,” You began as you pulled away, “I like the salt and pepper look.” Arthur scoffed, shaking his head.

“Really?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Really.” You nodded, running your hand through his hair. “Think you get more handsome every day.” If anyone was getting prettier every day it was you. Your hair was longer, cascading down your shoulders in waves. No longer tied up in a tight braid or bun. You looked relaxed, at peace. You became softer once you both settled into your new lifestyle. Not just emotionally, although you still had that fire which had first drawn him towards you, like a moth to a flame. You were physically softer, your harsh edges smoothing out as you started to eat and sleep better. Your curves became more prominent, and he certainly didn’t mind having more to hold onto late at night.

Maybe you truly did feel the same about him. He had never known you to lie. A blush settled on his cheeks at the thought. He shook his head, a small chuckle rumbling through his chest.

“Yeah, alright darlin’.” He says taking your face in his hands, kissing you again before you had the chance to embarrass him further.

Maybe getting old wasn’t so bad if you had someone to grow old with.

[kaphzzz]

uhhgggh,,, so we all know charles buried arthur and planted flowers and carved the cross himself right and arthurs the only one who gets that treatment from charles right,,, but it just didnt sink in until now for me lol. like to go to such lengths for one specific person... especially for someone as reserved as charles thats doubly significant. and not just because arthurs the main character or whatever, the fact is that his grave is the only one created with such care and love, and we all know charles was pretty much handed the job of burying everyone... even if its not romantic. its still canon that arthur was special to charles and means a lot to him in a way nobody else did, and their relationship still affects charles years after arthurs gone, and im not talking about john, but the fact that charles is noticeably more sociable and open about his thoughts and emotions in the epilogue, and i strongly believe this is arthur rubbing off on him. arthur brought out the more talkative side in charles and their friendship changed him. i think arthur was probably the closest friend charles had in a long while if not ever. and to lose him in mere months 🥲 i thought the pictures of charles crying during their last cutscene after they hug was some kind of lighting trick but no he actually is bawling his eyes out silently. i think eagle flies's death is part of it but moreso he knows that if he leaves with the wapiti it will be weeks if not months before hes back, and by then arthur will probably have died of the tb or been killed, and he has to push arthur away to do whats right, denying thrm both of any possibility of seeing each other again

[maybeiwasjustjade]

The amount of morons I’ve seen on twitter that insist ‘a son for a son’ is still owed because Jaehaerys wasn’t Alicent’s son, so Rhaenyra somehow has rights to Aegon’s head is baffling.

Actually, scratch that. It’s not baffling at all, because this isn’t the first time I’ve seen such braindead takes from that side of the fandom.

Last I checked, Aemond killed Luke. Not Aegon. Alicent served up Aegon’s head on a platter, without even once considering that should Aemond live then Rhaenyra will come for his head too. And not only did she betray Aegon, Alicent’s actions may very well lead to both Gwayne and Criston’s deaths. And Daeron, who has done nothing but be born to her.

As for the stupidity of the insistence on ‘a son for a son’, maybe Condal and Hess should remember that the last time Rhaenyra sought revenge for Luke, a toddler was beheaded in his bed because of her husband!!! And if that son wasn’t enough—the poor, innocent baby son of Helaena—and a debt still needs to be repaid, does that mean Aegon now has rights to kill one of Daemon’s children then?

Same logic right? Rhaenyra didn’t get Alicent’s son’s head for Luke, but Aegon lost a son. So if Rhaenyra has rights to Aegon’s head, then Aegon has the exact same right to murder one of her remaining children yes? Baela maybe, when Aegon claims Dragonstone. Or Joffrey even, should he survive till the end. Maybe Rhaenyra can even choose and then watch, like Daemon made Helaena.

But that’s not right is it. Aegon would be a monster if he did that. No sane person would do that. No good person should want that kind of revenge.

But when it comes to Rhaenyra, TB will justify anything right? She indirectly yet directly causes the deaths of nearly 100 dragonseeds—oh that’s fine, they consented to being in the pit knowing they could die! She’s not responsible at all! It’s not as if she ensured they couldn’t escape right? The death of a toddler wasn’t enough because it wasn’t the right son, so of course she gets to ask for another too.

As if Jaehaerys wasn’t worth a life at all. Then again, what can be expected when even after his death, in a fight about his murder, she only ever refers to him as ‘boy’, ‘child’, and my favorite: ‘it’.

Rhaenyra was always going to have to kill Aegon for the throne. And that was at minimum, unless she went for Aemond too. Daeron I could see being spared by being given to the Faith or the Maesters. It was very, very, very obvious to anyone with even a shred of media comprehension (which seems to be very little given the amount of stupid comments I’ve seen). The issue is that she had to go on and make it very clear that Aegon will die, not for taking her throne or whatnot, but as penance for Luke dying. That is where she crosses the line. She can’t and won’t spare Aegon, but the least she could do was not be a lying liar about it.

Also: I never subscribed to the theory that Alicent will be the one to poison Aegon in the end, because I never considered that a mother would be so cruel to do so. She ruined his life; placed him on this goddawful path to war that he never wanted. The least she could do was not betray her own son that way. But after today? Not a chance in hell she won’t be the one to kill him for her precious Rhaenyra. I hope when all is said and done, and she’s locked in a tower for the rest of her life, she knows that it was all her fault.

Because F&B made it clear that Aegon had a legitimate claim. Is it a usurpation if by all laws and tradition he’s the rightful heir? The show decided to go the idiotic route of making it an outright usurpation. The Dance was inevitable in F&B. Here, it seems to have been caused purposely, with one of its leading causes becoming a major turncloak. And it’s sad really, because the Dance has barely even started. HOTD could’ve waited to make Alicent a traitor. Wait until the Gullet and Jace and Rhaenyra’s inevitable fall to madness, to make Alicent’s plea more realistic because it happens when the Greens look like they are losing. Instead, they did this. Unbelievable.

[softringing]

There's always been a question that bugs me about sampo. Obviously, there are several, but this one specifically, has to do with his ideologies involving elation.

If sampo cares about people so much and desires to make everyone happy, why did he not take direct action in those 8 years he remained in belebog?

We all know sparkle said sampo has a line that he won't cross, and that line is very clearly not hurting people, well at least the ones who have already been hurt enough.

We see this from sampo's actions in the underworld vs overworld. For some reason, even tho sampo is a scammer and values money, he has never attempted to scam underworlders. In Hook's companion mission, hook's father had a rare mining item that was stolen by an npc named Skipper(?) I believe.

While Skipper was trying to sell this item to sampo, sampo kept insisting that he was selling it at such a low price. His direct words were "Are you sure you want to sell this at this price to me?"

And he kept hesitating until hook and tb found skipper and took the item back. We can see cleary that sampo means no harm to those who are weak but when he's in the overworld, he's known for scamming ppl like Chavez from Anti-Blue Scam Society without much remorse.

From all this, it's clear sampo has never done something to hurt anyone seriously, and to add to this, shields is the name for the belebog currency. Yet, in sampo's idle, we see him holding a different currency.

This pretty much implies that to sampo, belebogian currency would be useless. Although we know he's a scammer, we don't really know why he cares about money so much other than this text we got in game from him

Sampo seems personally tired of doing this :( but says that he has to to feed few mouths which we can take as him trying to help the ppl in the underworld with the money he 'earns'.

So, here we return to my initial question, why didn't sampo directly help ppl of belebog with their disaster if he has so much power?

He is hiding from a certain someone-- as mentioned by @/samposillies, in sampo's LC, the exact same currency he's holding is shown & his eidolon

(money model from @/kittykattz)

If u look really closely into his LC, you can see not only that it's from a POV of a sniper, but also another assasin behind sampo, holding a gun and wearing a foreign attire to belebog. The description also matches that someone's obviously trying to kill him, as told by the sniper himself.

At first, I assumed it was the ipc but their outfits lean towards red rather than plain black. Plus, although it looks like sampo isn't in belebog, there are two posters in the lc on the brick background and you can find these coffee posters in belebog at the location "Backwater pass".

But the thing is, sampo uses the non-belebogian currency (assumed to be Kalevalan currency) to convince the sniper to talk to him.

The lc's name is Eye of the Prey-- and although it's from sniper's POV, Sampo is clearly the Hunter, while the sniper is the prey.

This led me to think that someone from Kalevala is perhaps trying to kill sampo while he was in belebog, which is strange bc the world believed Jarilo-IV did not exist before the astral express saved them. Meaning that whoever is trying to kill sampo probably always knew about his whereabouts hence sampo decided to keep a low profile and decided to help underworlders in such a silent approach.

Not to mention, the currency sampo's holding doesn't have the usual hsr language on it (pointed out by @/samposillies)

(maybe it needs horizontal flipping ill check it later)

Therefore, we can assume sampo didn't help belebogians directly by bringing an end to the stelleron bc he's being chased by someone. and even tho sampo appears non-chalant or calm about it in his lc, maybe he just doesn't want that person to come and specifically show up in belebog.

We don't know why that person's trying to kill sampo but there are lots of reasons, just like the fact that sampo is LITERALLY the 'device' from Kalevala as referenced in his event. He CAN legit create ancient relics,

he laughs it off as a typo BUT HE CAN CLEARLY MAKE THESE RELICS!! GEPARD ALSO MENTIONS IN HIS LINES ABT HIM THAT HE SELLS A NUMBER OF ANCIENT RELICS!!

"ancient" MEANS OLDDD, like really old!! How can a normal person make such things?? Not to mention sampo can make his bombs and is immune to their poison and a MEMORY bubble (in autheirum wars), which had the description of being "abnormal or unusual"!! Only memokeepers can make memory bubbles, and herta has several of them in her space station. So he either stole one or knows how to make one himself!! Sampo also made those items in his pop-up shop event with some materials the tb brought so there's no doubt he's the object that's supposed to 'bring wealth'.

Or could it be that sampo is like Giovanni? He prefers natural endings rather than artificial ones? he's still a masked fool no matter how different his aesthetics are after all... LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU ALL THINK!!

Edit: Here's the flipped image of his money but I still can't read what it's supposed to mean and tried to google translate in Finnish but didn't. Work

[ghostgirl-22]

Somehow the conversation coming up that art doesnt know what he likes or knowing his own body because he always did what he was supposed to and no girl has felt the need or want to touch him because "hes the man and shouldnt need all that" "guys take care of the girl not the other way around" iykwim so patrick decides to help him figure it all out

How much pressure he likes, how wet he likes it, if he like gentle or nipping, gripping or biting.. where his erogenous zones are... kissing the sensitive parts of his inner thighs, what roles he likes to take, how he likes to be spoken to...?

U can ignore this part but Maybe pat asks "You never even tried doing it yourself? Like taken your time and see where your hands go?"

art says how would i be able to figure it out when i dont know where to start or what to do. Pat understands there probably a repression aspect to it aswell aand so they discover art together with pat guiding him through this new world/exploration

Omg! Your ask is literally ten times better than what I wrote but I love you for letting me try it dear nonnie <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Explicit

Basically this is just yearning and longing and porn with the thinnest of plots. So Artrick core.

——

It all comes out over holiday break. Art is staying with Patrick, it’s a few days after Christmas and Art’s parents are already busy with fundraisers and meetings. To them it doesn’t matter how Art gets back to Stanford, as long as he gets back so they could care less that Patrick keeps him for a few days.

They’re up too late. Patrick is lying on the floor with his laptop, looking up the scheduled matches for this season and who he’ll likely be playing. Art has taken over his bed, flipping channels on the television, going back and forth between American Pie on TBS and ESPN. Patrick is certain the sex conversation starts because they’re watching American Pie but what starts out as Art trying to get more information about Patrick’s sex life with Tashi leads to Art admitting he’s never really explored what he likes in bed.

“What do you even mean, explore?” Art asks, suddenly self conscious. He’s such a little perfectionist, checked off all the boxes, straight As, Ivy League college, division one tennis player, first girlfriend at the “right” age, lost it (many times) before high school finished. Patrick can tell it’s frustrating him to feel like he missed something. “Do you mean… touching myself?”

That’s really all it takes to divert Patrick’s attention. He shuts his laptop and sits up, gazing at Art. “Yeah jerking off is one part,” Patrick says, “But I meant what do you like?”

“I like having sex,” Art shrugs, “it’s simple. What else is there to explore?”

“Oh come on,” Patrick smirks. “It’s anything but simple. Do you even know your favorite position?”

Art rubs his arm, its so obvious he’s never even thought about it. “I don’t really… I mean um… I like… you know… the usual way.”

“Yeah that checks out,” Patrick says teasingly and Art’s gaze darkens.

”Why? How do you fuck Tashi?”

Patrick grins because he knew it was coming. “Nice try.”

Art huffs an irritated sigh. “Whatever man. Just because I’m not trying every position or whatever. I mean what difference does it make? She still…everybody still leaves happy.” Art picks up the remote and switches channels again like he’s done with the conversation but his skin is starting to flush.

He’s so easy. Patrick decides to push a little more. He shoves Art’s legs over and settles next to him on the full sized bed. Art just sits up, crossing his legs, he rests back on his palms.

Maybe it’s because Patrick helped him with his first sexual experience or maybe it’s because he has some kind of corruption kink but he loves whenever their relationship shifts back around to this show-me-how dynamic.

Art is so good at walking this line of self delusion that he’s this perfectly good straight boy… but when he needs something from Patrick. Usually experience. That’s when the lines start to blur. It’s a fucking mess but that’s exactly where Patrick lives.

“Look dude it’s not even about that.” Patrick continues. “It’s about… you remember when we were kids. You were so scared you’d suck at kissing so I—”

“Yeah I was a dumb kid,” Art interrupts quickly.

“Sure but you practiced…” Patrick points out. “And you’re a really good kisser now,” he says, smirking. Art looks away.

Patrick sighs. “I’m just saying if you play around… and learn what you really like. Sex can be really, really fucking good. Besides that’s half the fun of it anyway, right?”

Art chews his bottom lip and then he sighs. “It’s just… I mean I’m a guy… I thought I was supposed to look things up. I didn’t want to look like I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“What did you look up?”

“I don’t know, how to put on a condom? Only the first time. And like there was this article about unhooking different types of bra straps. Shut up,” he adds, shoving Patrick gently because he can’t help laughing at that.

“Okay how about this?” Patrick says, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. He leans back against the headboard, “Do you like it slow? Or do you prefer going fast?”

”Both,” Art says. “I like whatever she likes to do.”

“You don’t have a preference? What about when you’re touching yourself?”

Art plays with his tongue, rolls it back and forth in his mouth as he’s thinking. “Slower.” He says after a while. “Like… when I get the chance I like it…” He glances at Patrick and then looks determinedly back at the tv. “Slower.”

Patrick takes a breath and tries to slow himself down too but he can already feel his cock starting to fill up. “Okay what about touch? What makes you feel good? What gets you up?”

Art frowns. “I um… I don’t—- what about you? Where do you—” he sighs and then shakes his head. “Patrick, this is ridiculous.”

“No it isn’t, what’s ridiculous is you really don’t know what you like.”

Art is gripping the remote too tightly. “I know what I like,” he says.

“What?” Patrick gazes at him.

“Lots of stuff,” Art says.

“Like?”

Art rubs his thighs, Patrick looks down, following the anxious movement.

“I know something you like,” Patrick says after Art doesn’t say anything for a minute. “You want me to show you?”

Art starts playing with his tongue again, he takes a deep breath and nods and Patrick sits up so he’s close.

“You like it when someone kisses you here,” he brushes his knuckles along the junction between Art’s neck and collar bone and he shivers, pulling his shoulder up towards his ear. Patrick considers going in for the kiss but getting Art in a headspace is a delicate thing. It can lead everywhere and nowhere depending on how Patrick handles him.

And he knows Art… fuck… apparently he knows things about Art’s body that he’s not even aware of. This messy little “friendship” is gonna drive him crazy.

“Can I—“ Patrick lets his fingertips settle along the nape of Art’s neck where his curly hair is fine and baby soft. Art closes his eyes momentarily and takes a little breath.

”You like that too,” Patrick says.

“Yeah,” Art says softly.

Patrick licks his bottom lip to keep himself from licking at the flush on Art’s throat. “Do you like being on top? Or on the bottom?” Patrick asks, carefully.

Art opens his eyes and bites his lip again before taking a deep breath. “I think I prefer it when she… when she’s on top.”

“What do you like about it?”

“I don’t know… it’s hot. I mean…” he looks at Patrick. “I like looking at her tits when she….” He looks down shyly. Such a stupidly, pretty boy.

Patrick smirks. “So you're a boob guy.”

“So are you,” Art says, like he’s been caught doing something bad and doesn’t want to be the only one to get in trouble.

Patrick shrugs. “I love everything. I’m more of an ass man. But if you want to kill me show me a great pair of legs… I mean… fuck.”

Art rubs his thighs again. “I really like Tashi’s legs.”

“I bet you do,” Patrick smirks, leaning in. “What about you? You ever let her touch your chest?” He teases his fingers over Art’s t-shirt where his pecs are. Art gasps lightly as Patrick pinches just the right spot and the nipple starts to harden immediately. Patrick circles it lightly and Art shifts on the bed, pressing one hand into his lap and pushing Patrick away with the other. “Fuck no. That’s weird right?” Art asks, his voice a little pitchy.

God he fucking loves it. Patrick wants to push him down on the bed. But he sits on his hands to make himself behave. “What’s weird about it?” Patrick asks.

“I mean… I’m a guy. Why would she want to touch my… my nipples.” Art huffs a nervous little laugh.

“To make you feel good,” Patrick says softly.

Art licks his lips idly and lets out another breath.

“What about grip… do you like it soft?” Patrick asks.

Art nods. “Yeah.”

“This?” Patrick grips his wrist gently. “Or this?” He asks gripping a little tighter. “Or?” He grips tighter still, until Art squeezes his eyes shut.

“The… the middle… the second one.”

“Just right,” Patrick lets up on his grip. “What about here?” Patrick trails his fingertips…slowly… down Arts tummy.

“Stop,” Art breathes as Patrick’s fingers reach the elastic of his boxers.

Patrick shrugs, letting go of the elastic and smirking. He could do this all night. Touch and poke and prod and feel. He knows it’s turning Art on. He’s flushed so fucking beautifully, worrying his lips all red, squirming on the mattress.

“What about…” Patrick sits up on his knees and plays his fingers into Art's hair. Art looks up at him eagerly. Eyes fully dilated, lips parted, breathing shallow.

God.

Such a fucking pretty, pretty boy.

All Patrick wants now is whatever the fuck he can get away with. “Can I kiss you soft?” He asks as he presses his lips to Art’s mouth. Art nods and opens up, sliding his tongue into Patrick’s mouth right away, wanting it. Even though they’d only ever kissed a handful of times, ever since the first time their lips touched Patrick could tell that for Art kissing would be a Thing with a capital T. Patrick caresses the side of Art’s throat and feels it as he shivers. He listens to the way Art’s breathing. So aware of how Art’s body is moving. He’s opening up, he’s uncrossed his legs, knees pulled up, he’s grabbing at Patrick’s t-shirt trying to pull him closer as Patrick starts to deepen the kiss. Pressing his tongue more firmly into Art’s mouth. Art really likes that. He starts gasping, nibbling on Patrick’s lip before pushing his own tongue back in. When he starts moaning Patrick pulls back. His heart is railing against his ribcage and he’s losing himself. His hips are pressed in between Art’s legs feeling everything. Certain Art is feeling everything.

”Fuuckk,” Patrick breathes. He flops onto the bed resting his head on his pillow. If he were with Tashi right now he’d probably be halfway inside her already. Everything with her is impatient, horny and desperate. Everything with Art is pleading, anxious and pretending he doesn’t want it as badly as he fucking does.

Art is breathless, lips kiss swollen, he scoots back to get distance. “This is… so…”

“You like dirty talk?” Patrick interrupts.

Art smiles a bit and shrugs. “Kinda.”

“What’s kinda?” Patrick asks.

Art kicks his legs, lightly. “I like… I like when she tells me how she can’t wait for me to fuck her…”

Patrick sits up on his elbows. “Like I’m so wet for you baby, can’t wait to feel that big dick inside me?” Patrick says softly.

”Jesus Patrick,” Art says, covering his face.

“What?” Patrick says, smiling slightly at the reaction.

“You don’t have to say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you're wet,” Art whispers.

“So what do you want me to say?” Patrick says, he gets up again, abruptly crawling back into Art’s personal space. Art reacts at the sudden movement by opening his mouth… Patrick can see his little pink tongue, desperate for another kiss.

Art is gazing at him, pupils so large the rings of blue are barely visible. They’re so close, their lips are almost touching when Art licks his mouth. A horny little mess, if Patrick tried it now he thinks Art might let him fuck.

Patrick smiles and then leans against Art’s ear. “Can’t wait till you fill me up and fuck me good baby…” he murmurs softly.

“Yeah,” Art says quietly. “I can fuck you good.”

Patrick thinks he’s gonna go insane.

Art’s breathing starts to pick up again.

“Can you fill me up and stretch me… fuck me so hard I can feel you for days…” Patrick whispers.

“Mmhm,” Art hums eagerly, he starts lapping and sucking along Patrick’s throat, it’s so fucking yummy.

Patrick rubs his hand lightly along the inside of Arts thigh, trying to graze his knuckles along Arts cock. Art hitches another breath.

“That feel good?” Patrick asks gently.

“Yeah,” Art says breathlessly.

“You like it when she goes down on you before you fuck her?” Patrick asks.

“Yes, mm, yes,” Art says eagerly, shifting on the bed so Patrick can get between his legs. It’s so slutty the way he opens up so quickly, knowing what Patrick wants to do. Patrick presses a kiss along the inside of his upper thigh.

“Mm,” Art whines, and Patrick’s sure he’s just found another sensitive spot. He kisses it again, this time sucking at the skin there and Art moans properly. Patrick grins and starts palming him through his shorts. His own cock feels so fucking heavy. He’s thought about fucking Art since the first time he watched him nut all over himself but right now he feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t get this.

“You gotta tell me how you want it to feel,” Patrick says looking up at him. “Can you talk me through it?”

“What if your… what if we get caught?” Art whispers.

“Everyone is asleep by now I promise,” Patrick says.

”Are you sure?”

“Fucking yes.” Patrick says impatiently, though if he’s honest he wouldn’t give a fuck at this point if they were all right outside his bedroom door. He can’t help himself, he tugs Art’s shorts down to see it.

He’s still barely got any hair there and he’s definitely still blonde everywhere. He’s so hard, his cock is so pretty and pink and full to the tip, pearls of cum dripping. Patrick laps it up and Art hisses.

“Talk to me,” Patrick whispers. “You like it wet?”

“Fuck,” Art breathes. “I mean yes. Yeah I want it wet. Oh god.”

Patrick fills his mouth.

“Oh— oh— fuck—-“ Art groans, he’s so loud. His hips stutter but Patrick holds him down, swirls his tongue around, doesn’t swallow anything, just drools all over it. Arts toeing the bed, trying to push up. “Mm fuck your tongue can you… can you do it faster…” Art moans. So Patrick moves his tongue faster.

He doesn’t ask, maybe because he’s too far gone but he teases his fingertips up along Art’s entrance and the sounds that Art makes in response, make Patrick shiver.

“Patrick,” Art gasps, his body is practically vibrating. Patrick presses his fingers in a little deeper and he moans like the boys do when Patrick’s on those websites in the middle of the night with the volume down low. But Art can’t be quiet… and Patrick doesn’t want him to stop.

“Patrick! Patrick I can’t—- I think I’m gonna—I’m gonna fucking cum— holy shit—“ Art wasn’t even done saying Patrick’s name when Patrick’s mouth started filling up. And boy does it fucking fill up. Patrick’s swallowing, and swallowing and swallowing. He’s so greedy he doesn’t want to waste a single drop of it. Art is whining breathlessly when Patrick finally lets it drop from his mouth, still so shiny and red and wet, twitching helplessly. Patrick just stares at it, dizzy for a minute before he drops onto the bed next to Art and reaches between his legs and starts touching himself.

Art sighs and pulls his shorts up properly before rolling over. He puts his hand where Patrick’s is and starts helping. “What about you? Art asks softly. “What do you like?”

A/N: Sorry this took hundreds of years my love. I wanted to do better but unfortunately got lots to catch up on so it shall be good enough <3