#tiger temple photo

[newleaf]

seeing aesthetic bloggers spread photos of tigers at "the tiger temple" and wanting to say something but last time i tried to talk about animal cruelty depicted in aesthetic photos they tried to beat my ass online

[yebreed]

Ancestral Hall of the Tiger Talisman in Fujian

One of those architectural gems that are scattered throughout the Chinese countryside: the Ancestral Hall of the Tiger Talisman (虎符祖殿) aka Huyan Ancestral Hall (虎岩祖殿) or Hufuyan (虎符岩) in Nanfeng (南豐村), Xinqiao, Fujian.

Built in the Song dynasty and rebuilt in the 16th year of Jiajing in the Ming dynasty (1537), the complex covers an area of about 1800 square meters. This temple is dedicated to the Taoist Leifa deity Zhang Shengjun (張聖君), the Master of Five Thunders. The papers with talismanic inscriptions are stuck under the ceiling.

Photo: ©劉江嶺

[maevesheart]

FOOLS - PART II

CORIOLANUS SNOW X CAPITOL!READER

note: continuing to use the mars family name for reader, but different storyline than tolerate it. i recommend listening to fleetwood mac’s “storms” while reading :)

PART I // PART II // PART III

summary: only fools would fall for coriolanus snow, and you’re the biggest fool of them all.

wc: 7.5k (she’s a long one)

tw: smut, pet names, curse words

Coriolanus had kept his promise, and that next morning, you awoke to the sounds of Coryo’s small snores and the chirping of birds outside. 

You raked your nails through his soft curls, now a little messy from his deep slumber. He lightly stirred, and you giggled, he was so pretty with half his face smashed into your pillow, back to the ceiling and one arm tucked securely around your waist. You could really get used to this. 

“A photo will last longer,” Coryo’s hoarse voice cuts through the silence, catching you staring at him. “You’re just so pretty,” you smile, “how could I not stare?”

He gives your hip a tight squeeze, causing you to giggle. 

“Goodmorning, gorgeous,” he murmurs, sitting up and placing a kiss on your temple. 

“Goodmorning,” you chirp back, watching as he rises from the bed, removing his top. He throws it to the floor, and then pulls off his socks, going for his pants next. 

“Woah, steady tiger!” you joke, earning a chuckle from him. 

“Just going to shower. Would love if you’d join me,” he smirks, lust dripping from his words. 

“Normally you know I wouldn’t decline, but we have to be down at the Academy at 9… or well, you have to be at the Academy…” your situation still hadn’t completely settled yet, you were disappointed to be taken out of the competition, but you couldn’t fathom meeting an end like Arachne’s. 

Coryo nods, “I’m sorry, darling. I’ll win for you,” he winks, opening your en-suite bathroom door and stepping into the room. 

You decide you’ll go get him a clean uniform from your elder brother, Perseus’s, room; he graduated two years ago, so his uniform was still in crisp condition, and he and Coryo shared the same muscular, broad frame. 

Percy was a Major in the Peacekeepers, currently probably keeping people in line in District 1. He hadn’t been home since his graduation two years ago, except for the brief visits during the holidays or someone’s birthday. Duty calls, as your father would proudly claim when describing Percy. 

It was still early, but you knew that your father was awake, no doubt. Probably sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and the newspaper in his hands. 

Luckily for you, Percy’s room was directly across the hallway from yours, a straight-shot. 

You scurried across, shuffling around in his closet, the bright red uniform sticking out compared to his rather black and blue wardrobe. 

Percy was a tad bit taller than Coryo, but it would do for one day. Coryo didn’t have time to go home, and if he walked down wearing an Academy uniform, your father was sure to believe he arrived this morning. He wouldn’t be too pleased knowing he spent the night. 

You pulled the uniform off its respected hanger, took a pair of socks, and then some dress shoes from the floor of his closet. Percy could spare a pair, after all, he had about 20 pairs of identical shoes. 

You opened his door, ready to exit the room, looking up to meet the suspicious eyes of your older sister, Persephone. 

Where you and Percy were close and told each other almost everything, you and Persephone were distant and hardly trusted each other. Never since she ratted you out years ago for hiding a bottle of posca under your bed. 

“Why were you in Percy’s room?” she questions, words like daggers. 

You roll your eyes, but fear begins to creep into your body. 

You have the uniform in your arm which is hidden by Percy’s door, the only thing visible are the extra pair of dress shoes, hanging from your hand. 

“Why do you have his shoes?” she sneers, finally noticing the footwear. 

You ignore her, finally pushing past, the uniform meeting her gaze. Her eyes narrow, trying to connect the dots on why you’d need a male’s Academy Uniform. 

“I’m going to cut up the fabric and make some bows, you know I need some new ones. And I’m going to mail the shoes to Percy, he wrote to me requesting them,” the lies were mediocre, at best. You had more than enough money to go out and buy some new bows, and you have Avoxes who could easily make them for you. For the shoes, Percy didn’t wear shoes other than the ones that paired with his uniform, but Persephone never paid enough attention to him to know that.

You get lucky, and Persephone doesn’t question you further, nose up in the air as she continues down the hall, the sound of her loafers echoing off the walls as she continues down the hall.

Finally back in the safety of your four walls, you let out a sigh of relief, throwing the clothing onto the now made bed, and the shoes onto the floor. 

The Avoxes must have come in while you were gone. You were suddenly very thankful that they couldn’t talk, meaning they wouldn’t be able to snitch. 

You hear the shower turn off, the cease of the sound of water. Coryo comes out next, just a towel tied around his waist. You have to keep yourself back from drooling, watching water droplets fall down his chest. 

His hand rakes through his hair, his curls dripping water onto your expensive rug. 

“I got you one of Percy’s old uniforms, and some shoes,” you explain, bashfully, feeling his eyes all over your body. 

You were dressed in your silk pajamas from last night, a rose-pink tank top and little shorts, suddenly feeling very exposed under Coryo’s gaze. 

“Quick, dress. Cook made breakfast, you can get something before you have to leave for the Academy,” you usher him towards the outfit, picking up his clothing from before, quickly bringing them to the laundry basket in your closet. 

“I’ll have them washed and bring them to you later, and don’t worry about returning the uniform or shoes,” you throw a smile over your shoulder at him, flipping through your clothing options for the day. 

“Y/N, I will return them,” he shakes his head. You know he hates to accept help, but you love him. And when you love someone, you help them. 

“Seriously, Coryo. Percy is gone, and he’s graduated, so it's not like he needs it anyways. He has plenty of shoes, he won’t miss one pair,”

Coryo looks down at the shoes, last season's best design, straight out of the box it seems. To most people, your family's money would be intimidating, but not to Coriolanus. He strived to be able to support you the way your father does, to be able to buy you the things that your father buys you now.  

Not willing to press the issue further, he pulls on the outfit, fitting relatively perfect except for the extra length in the sleeves and pants, but no one will notice. He slips on the fresh socks and Percy’s fine shoes, fitting like a glove. 

You pull on a simple pair of white form-fitting pants, a white long-sleeve blouse that has a large bow in the front, and some dark navy-blue pumps that accentuate your long legs. 

Coryo’s eyes take over your now more conservatively-dressed body, pausing to stare at the way the slightly-too-tight pants hug the curves of your ass perfectly, and the top of your cleavage that peeks out in the opening of the bow. 

“Alright, you go down first, that way my father won’t assume you’ve been up here this whole time,” 

Coryo smirks while nodding, he wants everyone to know you’re his, but the public displays will have to wait until you’re out of your penthouse. 

Coryo leaves, giving you a quick kiss to your lips before exiting. 

After a few seconds, you follow suite, hearing the conversation flowing from the kitchen.

Coryo is standing next to the kitchen table when you enter, hand on his chest as he laughs over one of your fathers (probably not very funny) jokes. 

You walk over, placing your hand on the outside of Coryo’s arm, leaning down to peck your father’s cheek. 

“Goodmorning, shining star. Did you sleep well?” he asks, taking a quick sip from his cup of coffee. 

“Always do, daddy. Good morning to you as well, Coriolanus,” you smile, catching the glint in Coryo’s eye as he nods back to you. 

“Coriolanus here was just telling us how he stopped by say good morning, darling. How caring,” your mother swoons, placing her hands over her heart.

“That is very considerate, thank you,” you look back to him, hand still on his arm. 

Persephone, sat in between your mother and father, looks down to where the two of you are touching, eyes flitting down to see Percy’s old shoes on Coriolanus’s feet, and connecting the dots as to why you really needed his old uniform. 

She catches your eye, and shakes her head, and you know you’re caught. But you’re not scared of her, not anymore. You slightly lift your head, showing your defiance. 

“Alright, I’m going to run some errands and go find a dress for the opera later, daddy,” 

“Okay, darling. Once again, it was splendid to see you, young Snow.” 

Coriolanus returns the compliment, following you as you head for the front coat closet, retrieving your old fox fur coat, the sharp orange contrasting with the dark blue in your shoes. You throw your navy bag over your shoulder and guester for Coryo to exit first, extending your hand to the door. 

“Y/N!” Persephone is marching down the hall. You urge Coryo to continue, assuring him that you’ll be right behind him. 

“Are you mad?” she sneers, face mere inches away from your own. 

“What are you on about now, Persephone?” you roll your eyes, ready to escape from your neurotic sister. 

“I will play dumb this one time, Y/N. But I know the Snow family just as well as you do. And Coriolanus Snow is a cunning, deceitful boy. Only a fool would allow themselves to fall for him, let alone help him.” she shook her head, placing a hand tenderly on your shoulder. 

“Don’t be a fool, Y/N,” 

You shoved her hand away, taking a step back away from her. 

“You just don’t know him the way I do, Persephone. Mind your own business.” 

With that, you turned on your heel, slamming the front door behind you.

The bell rings out as you enter Fabricia Whatnot’s shop, Tigris quickly pulling you into her arms. 

You had asked her to design your dress, knowing there was no one more suited for the job than Tigris Snow. 

“Oh, Y/N, you are just going to play so beautifully! I’ve been so excited all week, telling all the clients how lucky I am to know the artist herself!”

You blushed, shaking your head. “You flatter me,” 

She tuts, pulling you over to the small platform, gesturing for you to stand up on it, and slip on the dress hanging in front of the mirror. 

It was beautiful, long and a deep scarlet red. It was sleeveless, and a ballgown, large billows of fabric falling out from the cinched waist. A large bow sat at the back, right on your waist and above your bum, the tails of the bow flowing down to the floor, creating a train. Bows were your signature touch on every item you wore, you made sure of it. 

“Oh, Tigris,” you murmured as she helped you step into the dress, pulling it up your perfectly sculpted curves. 

She smiled, zipping up the backs, the hidden corset within the dress hugging you tight, accentuating your hips and waist. It billowed out perfectly, showcasing your cleavage strategically, leaving enough to the imagination while showing off what you were assessed with. The dress glimmered in the bright lights of the shop, making you shine like a star. 

Once she was satisfied with her work, Tigris pulled back, hands covering her mouth in awe. 

“You look like a princess,” she complimented, watching you twist and turn in the mirror, smiling as you took yourself in. 

“You are fabulous, Tigris. This dress is everything I wanted and more,” you pull her in for a hug, endless thanks falling from your lips. 

She helps you out of the design, and packs it into a gown bag for you to bring home. 

As you pay for the dress, she makes light conversation, asking, “Have you seen Coryo recently? He disappeared last night to check on Lucy Gray and hasn’t returned home since.” 

You feel like you’ve been hit by a rebel bomb when the words leave her mouth, brain failing to place the pieces together. 

Did he see her before he came to you? Or did he once again sneak from your bed to visit his pitiful songbird? 

You composed yourself, not willing to be embarrassed in front of his cousin. 

“I walked him to the Academy this morning, and then made my way over here. He seemed perfectly normal,” you stated, when deep down you wanted to rip all of the curls off of his perfect head. 

Tigris sighs in relief, handing you the gown bag. 

“I’ll see you later. You’ll perform wonderfully, I know it,” you smile at her compliment, bidding goodbye, while a silent fire rages within your belly. 

The ride home is short, and soon you’re hanging up the marvelous dress in your walk-in closet, bare feet against the cold marble tiles. 

For your recital, you had decided on one simply instrumental piece, and then one where you sang. You were nervous, though you had been practicing for ages. You had sang while playing at a few parties, but when you were a guest, people never paying much to you. This time, all the attention would be on you, and you had to make sure this performance was perfect. 

Usually in the Capitol, the only successful singers were those who sang in the opera, but you had a rich and smooth voice, one that many would die for. The original song you had picked to sing was a classic, one that everyone would be expecting and familiar with. 

But you now decided that you wanted to stand out, give them something they aren’t expecting. It would either be detrimental or skyrocketing, and you were choosing to believe it would be the latter. 

You tried to calm your ever-present nerves, smoothing your hands onto the front of your gorgeous dress, toying with the massive sapphire stones on your ears. A matching necklace hung deep from your neck, into your cleavage. They were your mothers, a token of pure beauty and wisdom, something you were hoping would come to you. 

You needed to calm down. Stress never mixed well with your mind. You had decided on a song; it was from the old world. Something all the guests sitting before you had most likely never heard. It was soulful, slow, and emotional. You hoped you would pull a few heartstrings, maybe get some audience members to cry. With your voice, nothing was unlikely. 

Coriolanus had been rushing around backstage for the past few minutes, wanting to steal you for a few moments alone. He wanted to wish you luck, not having seen you since you walked him to the Academy days ago. 

He felt like you were avoiding him, the Avoxes not letting him into your home, you only speaking to Clemmie and Sejanus at school…he was confused about what he could have possibly done, questioning Tigris and Sejanus, but neither could decipher it themselves. 

He had asked various staff members where you were, all giving different answers. It was like you told them not to tell him where you were. 

Finally, he rounded a corner, eyes settling on your back. 

He gawked at the dress, practically eye-fucking you. Your hair was in long curls down your back, and as you turned to face him, he saw a deep red color on your lips, matching the shade of your dress. 

The last person you wanted to see was Coriolanus, but as your eyes settle on his piercing blue ones, you know you’re in for it. 

You stay put, unwavering as he strides up to you, eating you up with his eyes.

“You are the most marvelous thing I have ever seen,” he compliments, going in for a kiss, expectant lips meeting your cold cheek. 

He is taken aback, confidence slightly faltering as you cross your arms against your chest, eyes on his – or should you say Percy’s – shoes, the ones you had given him before you knew him as the traitor he is. 

He watched as you looked in every direction but his, trying your hardest not to give into his gaze. 

He takes your face in his hands, moving your head so your eyes meet his, anger burning in the back of your pupils. You had been pushing yourself away from him the past few days, as it was clear Lucy Gray demanded all his time and attention. 

“Not with your songbird?” you sneer out, venom seeping from your words. Coriolanus’s eyes narrow as he realizes that this is what the avoidance has been about. 

“Darling, I already told you that she means nothing to me. Less than nothing, she is district. I am to take care of her if she is supposed to win, don’t let it get to you,” he is soft with his words, care laced within every consonance. 

You want to believe him, you really do, but it seems his words don’t match up with his actions.

“Once you can show me you truly mean your words, I will listen. Besides, I think it’s time for you to take your seat, Mr. Snow. The show is about to start.”

Coryo is raging as he makes his way back to the box seats you provided him, sitting back in the seat between Grandma’am and your mother. Your words were replaying in his mind, not understanding how you couldn’t see that you were all he wanted. Not some flamboyant little girl from District 12. 

He knew, deep down, that Lucy Gray was becoming important to him. He tried to deny it, but he couldn’t. The more time he spent with her, he began to sympathize with her, trying to ease her pain as much as possible. 

The thick, dark green curtains covering the ornate stage pulled back, revealing a black glossy grand piano, likely a fortune, and you sat on the adjacent bench, your dress billowing out from your back. It was gorgeous. Your mother turned to compliment Tigris’s work, as well did Persephone. It was the most beautiful dress that had ever been crafted in Panem. 

Coriolanus watched with adoration as your fingers delicately danced across the black and white keys of the piano, playing the original piece perfectly. The audience watched in awe, a beautiful girl playing a piano even more beautifully. It was captivating, how someone so gentle and caring could play such a dramatic piece, a song with such emotion that it brought tears to many people’s eyes. You chose this particular piece on purpose, it was one that Coriolanus had asked for you to write years ago, when the two of you were just close friends who messed around in your family’s music room. 

He froze still, the notes going straight to his nervous system, setting him into overdrive. You were performing for him, and he couldn’t decide if it was the most romantic thing he had ever seen, or the most infuriating. You had just been chastising him, but now you were playing his song, the one you wrote for him. 

The song became fast, striking. People would be talking about this piece for weeks, it would be drilled into young students' minds the next time they sat on a similar bench. On the program they had given everyone when they entered, named the song “A Snow Waltz”. You could not have been more obvious if you tried, and the idea of having a song written and named after him sent Coriolanus spiraling, wanting to kiss the sense out of you that very moment.

He sat in disbelief as the elaborate tune turned into something slower, something more calculated. 

Then you began to sing, and he knew he was done for. 

“Every night that goes between, I feel a little less,” 

The audience sat upright, eyes wide as they ingested your words, ones that Coriolanus knew you had pored over for weeks, trying to find the most fitting song for your relationship. And based on the first two lines, he wasn’t feeling overly pleased with your song of choice. 

“As you slowly go away from me, this is only another test,” 

And then he understood. This isn't a love ballad. You weren’t professing your love for him in the most public way possible… you were claiming it back. 

“Every night you do not come, your softness fades away,”

The emotion in your voice is strong and compelling, anyone who is listening can sense the sorrow in your words, the pain you must have endured. 

Coriolanus now knows that he has caused this pain. He is the reason for the best performance the Capitol has seen in a long time. 

“Is there anything left to say? Every hour of fear I spend, my body tries to cry, living through each empty night, a deadly call inside,” 

He looks around, engrossed faces all around him. Grandma’am’s eyes are glossed over, and Tigris is dabbing the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief. Your father is holding your mother’s hand, tight. Sejanus is upright, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. 

“I haven’t felt this way I feel, since many a years ago. But in those years and the lifetime passed, I did not deal with you, I know.” 

Your voice ceases, a lovely piano piece following your words, giving Coryo a chance to finally digest what he’s just heard. You’re professing great fondness for someone, admitting that the relationship is fading away, running its course. 

Your voice faintly picks back up, adding in a few lyrics to compliment the complex piano piece. 

“She said, ‘Every night he will break your heart’, I should’ve known from the first, I’d be the broken hearted” 

Coryo’s chest is tight. You look up and out to the crowd, eyes falling onto his. He sees the emotion, the sadness. He knows that it’s his fault, and could’ve prevented it. 

“I loved you from the start, and now not all the prayers in the world, could save us, oh save us,”

The piano begins to slightly fade, and you stand from the bench, dress flowing as you make your way to the middle of the stage, bowing for the now standing and cheering audience, bouquets of flowers thrown to your feet. 

As you take your bow, your eyes are back on him, but this time, his hold the emotion. 

The show was a success, a vibrant grin across your beautiful face as you flitted around to greet all the guests. Various old family friends, distant relatives, even some of your professors at the Academy. 

After the performance, your parents find you first, kisses pressed to your cheek, and comforting hugs as tears slip from your mother’s eyes. 

“Panem hasn’t seen talent like yours in forever, darling.” Your father speaks, pride sparkling behind his eyes, bearing the same color as your own. 

You blush, nodding at his words, accepting his compliment. 

You break from them, finding the Plinth’s next. Sejanus gives you a kiss on each cheek, rambling about how your talent must have been given to you from the stars above. 

You giggle, letting him and his mother rain down on you with millions of compliments, all more enchanting than the last. 

“Thank you for being here, Mr. And Mrs. Plinth. It means so much,” you nod, taking Mrs. Plinth’s hands into yours. 

“Darling, believe me when I say you’ve just done something the Capitol hasn’t seen in decades. You will be more talk than the games, that’s for sure,” 

And with a kiss to your temple, Serbo Plinth walks away, Sejanus and his mother trailing. 

The room that all the guests were brought in after was a large room; high ceilings, a plush (likely expensive) rug, rows of tables with regal chairs, and various portraits of Panem’s most prominent leaders and talents up on the walls. 

You spotted the portrait of your father and Serbo Plinth easily, it was the largest in the room, other than the Presidential portrait. It was commissioned after the war, to show how your father and Mr. Plinth had been the greatest allies throughout the war, proving true to the president. 

You were sat at the center table, where everyone could come over to speak to you, or watch as you ate. Your fathers portrait hung above your seat, a silent expression of how the most successful in Panem continued to produce the best, and only the best. 

You looked at who would be sitting next to you, your father on your left, and Sejanus on your right. You were happy with that, you would speak to Sejanus through dinner, ask him how the games were going. 

You hadn’t been paying much attention to the mentorships after your dismissal, hearing bits and pieces from Clemensia during school. They had a small meeting, gathering information about their respective tribute. 

Excusing yourself quickly, despite the table still being empty as the guests continued to make conversation, you slipped through the crowds and went to the ladies room. 

You touched up on your makeup, and quickly returned back to the table. To your surprise, Coryo was now sitting in the seat that was labeled for Sejanus. 

You tried your hardest to act nonchalant as you sat back down, your father acknowledging your presence was a small pat on the knee, and then he turned back to Mr Plinth on his other side. Sejanus was now across the table from you, all sorts of different food items piled high on his fine china plate. 

Coryo’s eyes were burning into the side of your face, you could feel his harsh gaze. In all honesty, you were quite scared to turn to him. Your song was compassionate, and your deliverance of it was in the most public possible way. The best from the Capitol watching it in person, and everyone through the districts watching it on the soon-to-be Hunger Games broadcasting screens. 

You were the Gem of Panem, their princess. This had secured your place in society, you had established yourself among the most brilliant, the commanders, the leaders. You were proud of yourself. 

Criolanus stood from the table, going to gather food onto his plate. You hoped he would gather lots; it was all paid for by your father, and Coriolanus needed to eat. You always worried about him, even if you weren’t happy with him. 

He returned, plate piled up, like you hoped, and you accidentally slipped a small smile, a tiny corner of your mouth going up in happiness. 

Coryo caught it. He was always able to catch even the faintest changes in your expressions and demeanor. 

Once he had taken his seat, and loud conversation engulfed the room, you finally spoke. 

“I thought Sejanus was meant to be sat there,” you take a small bite of steamed carrots. 

“Last minute change, I suppose,” Coryo lightly shrugs his shoulders, turning his head to get a better look at you. 

“Mhm,” you breathe out, blush tickling your cheeks ever so lightly. 

“You played beautifully out there. And your voice, well, it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard. Why didn’t you tell me you’d be singing?” Is that… hurt behind his words? You turn to look at him, eyes finally meeting, and you swear you see the faintest stain of tear tracks on his cheeks, filling your stomach with fulfillment. 

“Well, you’d been too busy. I didn’t want to burden you while you save your songbird,” you try your hardest to mask the words, but you know he can hear the venom and jealousy peeking out from behind them. 

He doesn’t look smug, no, he looks hurt. Extremely hurt. 

“Y/N,” he breathes out, placing his barely used fork onto the table. 

“I know you visited her the night that you came to me.” You whisper, composure starting to crumble. 

All he does is nod, proving your accusation to be true. You lightly slouch at his silence, so that was his response? He has nothing else to say? “Is that all you have to say?” you whisper, you knew if you tried to speak any louder your voice would crack, giving your emotion away. 

“What is there to say, Y/N? You played our song up there, The Snow Waltz. You sang a song about our relationship, one where the words insinuated that you had once loved me but my betrayal was too strong. Help me understand you, Y/N, how could I possibly respond to that?” He was closer to you now, downcast faces mere inches away. 

To any onlooker, you two would look like a few teenagers who had deep set feelings for each other, feelings that must be voiced at that very second. 

You had a feeling that he would be upset with your song choices, that it would hit him deep in the chest, give him the same feeling that he had recently been giving you. 

“I played your song because I love you. And then I sang that song because I want you to know that I don’t feel loved by you.” 

Coriolanus feels as if a blow has gone straight to his gut, knife clattering as he accidentally drops it on the table. 

His eyes are hard, unreadable. But they’re glossy, the only part that is giving him away. You read him better than any other person, and he knows this. 

He stands up, chair screeching as it pushes out behind him. You watch with wide eyes, staring up at him. He spares you one last solemn look, a slight shake of his head, before he is storming off, down the isles of tables and through hundreds of guests, straight to the doors. 

You feel possessed, your feet pulling you up and forcing you after him, feeling as if they have a mind of their own. Everyone is silenced now, eyes following your every move. The young, beautiful, and talented Mars girl chasing the abrasive, orphaned, tarnished Snow boy.

“Fool,” Persephone mutters under her breath, shaking her head.  

You find Coryo in the empty lobby, no one but you and him. 

He is pacing, hands in his hair, mumbles of inaudible words spilling from his perfect lips, you want to scream at him. Scream at him for showing up before the performance, scream at him for leaving your dinner. You want to scream at him for leaving your bed to see Lucy Gray, for telling you he loves you and then going and proving to do the opposite. 

“Coriolanus,” you announce your presence, slow steps up to his brooding figure as he ceases his pacing, eyebrows twisting together. 

He first ignores you, going and taking a seat on the golden bench beside the entrance for the auditorium. 

You walk over, perching next to him. He timidly reaches a hand out, laying it onto the red dress, smoothing down the thick material. 

“You assume the worst in me, Y/N.” he shakes his head, light amusement behind his words. 

“I already told you what I believe, Coriolanus. You tell me beautiful words, give me special moments. But you then contradict yourself, going back to her. I know you need to win the prize, I know, I know, but I love you. And you’re supposed to love me. And when you love someone, you don’t abandon them for another person,” tears brim on your eyes, threatening to spill out and ruin your flawless makeup. 

“I love you, more than anything in the entire planet, Y/N. Can’t you see that I am helping Lucy Gray to win because that prize ensures I can give us the future that we deserve. The future you deserve…I want to give that to you. To be able to continue to live your life as luxuriously as you do now. Dresses, jewelry, pianos. Anything you would ever want.” His voice is soft, wavering.

You stare at him, lips slightly parted, not expecting him to voice his deepest insecurities. 

“I don’t care about all those things, Croyo…” you murmur, grabbing his hands in his lap. 

“Darling, I just watched you play the most highly acclaimed piano concert that Panem has seen in decades. You are a spectacle, a performer. You love your piano, and your dresses, and all the things that make you pretty, the things that make you shine. You are meant to be a star.” his voice drips with desperation, embarrassment. He thinks the life he lives now isn’t good enough for you. 

“I need Lucy Gray to win so that I can give you the life full of luxury that you deserve. So that I can buy you a new piano every year, a new ruby ring every birthday. Darling, it’s all for you.” his hands come up, cupping your face. They are soft, rubbing your skin. 

“Love me, Coriolanus. Show me that you can.” 

With that, he grips your jaw, hard, and yanks you into him, a small whimper falling from your lips. He is rough, pent up anger finally spilling out. “I love you,” he murmurs out, kissing your chin. “I love you,” he’s now on your neck, sucking as hard as he can, being sure to leave marks. “I love you, more than anyone else,” 

He’s standing, pulling you up with him, his hands moving down to your biceps, lips back on top of yours, pulling you into the coat room. 

He locks the door behind you two, pressing you against it. 

His leg slotted between yours, keeping you pressed tight against the doorframe. His lips continued their vicious attack against your neck and collarbones, tongue gliding across the prominent bone. 

You watched as he slowly trailed further down your body, getting onto his knees. He pulled back from your skin, watched from below as you panted, trying to catch your breath. With a final smirk, he flipped up your skirt and disappeared under the hem, hiking one of your knees over his shoulder. 

Your breath hitched as you felt his hot breath over your clothed pussy, head falling back against the mahogany as he trailed a calloused finger over the red lace, cock twitching at the sound of your light moan. 

His fingers toy with the lace, before ripping it off your legs, you hear the lingerie tear. 

“Coryoooo,” you whine, upset that he just ruined your brand new panties. 

“I’ll get you some new ones, darling,” he promises, throwing the disheveled garment to some corner of the closet. He grins, knowing some Avox will find the star performers panties sometime later tonight, and know she was fucked in the coat closet. 

Before you have time to prepare yourself, Coryo is licking a strip up your folds, and then his mouth is sucking on your bud, whimpers falling from your lips, your hands digging into the wooden walls of the room. 

Your head is thrown back in pleasure, Coryo lapping you up, his lips ravenging you at an unbearable speed, pressure begging to brew in your stomach. 

He knows the easiest way to get you undone is to give you head, and lucky you, he loved to do it. 

His one hand squeezing the fat in your ass, kneading the sensitive skin. 

You moan, loudly, when his tongue starts to circle around your clit, and he squeezes your ass extra hard: a warning. 

The burning sensation in your core continues as he enters two fingers, pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace. Though you can’t see him, you know that he is smirking, hearing you fall apart above him.

Finally, the mix of his two fingers, tongue, and thumb rubbing circles around your clit causes you to finally come undone, legs shaking as Coryo drinks up all the juices you spill. His rough hands hold your legs up, and soon he’s out from under the dress, lips quick to attach to yours, making you taste all of your juices on his tongue. 

He pulls away and smiles at you, “I love you,” he whispers, brushing your hair from in front of your face, fingers delicate and soft. 

“I love you,” you smile, lightly melting into his touch. 

“Can I fuck you now?” he smirks, a mischievous glint to eyes, fingers rubbing your jaw. “Please, pretty thing? I’ll show you just how much I love you…I’ll fuck it into you,” 

His lips are re-attacking your neck, hands pulling down the zipper of your beautiful dress. 

“When I’m president,” he pants out, your hands tangled in his hair, humming, 

“I’m hanging this dress up for everyone to see, the most beautiful dress ever worn,” he finished, attacking your lips with his own. He’s sure your lipstick is smeared across his chin, likely off the corners of his lips. He doesn’t care, everyone should know that you’re his. He is the one who gets to kiss you, gets to fuck you. 

He helps you step out of it, gently placing it over a near chair, not wanting to ruin the masterpiece. 

“In fact, I’ll have a whole wing dedicated to you, my love. It’ll have dresses, coats, portraits..” you shut him up sucking on the sweet spot under his right ear, knowing it turns him on the most. 

And you are right, watching him tear off his black coat and shred off his slacks, left in his boxers and white button down. He pulls you back into him, watching with lust blown pupils as your perfectly painted fingernails unbutton all the way down the shirt. You help him remove it, discarding it to the pile of his other clothing. 

Then, his boxers are tugged down, carelessly kicked off, and he’s back to you, pressing you harder into the wall. 

He tells you to jump, and you oblige, legs wrapped around his hips as he lines himself up with you. “Just one more, princess,” he mewls, noticing your sudden nervousness. You nod, knowing Coryo would stop if you became too overstimulated. 

You dig your head into his shoulder, biting the hard skin as he pushes in, your pussy taking him so perfectly that he almost passes out. 

The two of you hadn’t had sex in weeks. Sure, you had done other things, but you hadn’t done the thing that ties two people so closely together, barring ever single part of themselves. 

His hands are secure around your ass, moving you in synchronization while he relentlessly continues to bottom out in you. 

“Coryo,” you moan, slightly muted by it being said deep into his shoulder. 

“Taking me so well, baby,” he groans, feeling himself slowly untie. You feel the same sensation, his dick hitting your sweet spot so perfectly with every thrust. 

You wrap an arm around his shoulders, and then move your free hand down between the two of you, massaging circular motions to your clit. 

Coryo goes even faster, earning whines and various other noises from your lips, beginning to squirm from the sensitivity. 

“Come for me, darling,” he says, eyes following your every movement. You begin to massage faster, head falling back against the mahogany door as his thrusts become sloppier. 

The two of you come undone at the same time, Coryo lightly leaning against your body, slipping out before delicately dropping your leg. 

He makes sure you’re able to stand up before walking away, gathering your dress, and helping you step back into it. He ties the corset, and then the zipper.

He slips back into his outfit, pulling up the slacks and sliding his feet into the shoes. You button up his top, and smooth down the collar. You go to run your fingers through his now slightly tangled curls, making them look as perfectly curled as they were when he arrived to the show. 

Finally, he gets down on one knee, holding your heels. You prop a bare foot onto his knee, looking down at him with lust-blown pupils, swollen lips, your hair slightly messy and smudged lipstick. How he got so lucky, he has no idea. 

He slides the expensive heel delicately onto your foot, like he’s scared of hurting you. As he begins to buckle it close, he cuts the silence. 

“I love you, Y/N Mars. I love everything about you. Your voice, your eyes, your spirit. I love your dedication, your talent that so very few possess. I love how you care for me, and make sure I’m alright, always bringing me whatever I need. They say that love can arise from the most unsuspecting of places, and in my case, that was you. As a child, I would trail you like a lost puppy, always seeking your validation, some sort of indication that you saw me, knew me. I know we’ve had our initial clashes, loud, aggressive fights in the middle of class or in lunch, and I know you don’t always listen to me, and I don’t always listen to you, but you see me differently than anyone else, you see a side of me that I don’t know to anyone else. And amongst the original animosity, I found myself drawn to you, seeking your approval. The deeper I got to know you, the more I began to fall for you. Everything I’ve done, every person I’ve hurt, it’s all been for you. And now, here I am, professing my undying love for you. Love that will burn for as long as I live, as long as you’re by my side.” 

You are speechless, mouth agape, Coriolanus’s glossy eyes raking over all your features. You were bewildered, wondering how something so romantic could come out of a man’s mouth who was simply doing-up your shoes. 

He is still down on one knee, and once he’s finished your other shoe, you pull him up, arms winding tightly around his waist. 

His large hands rub your back, holding you as close as possible. You dig your face into his chest, his chin atop your head. 

A slight sniffle, and then you murmur out, “I love you, Coriolanus. I don’t know how I could’ve doubted you.” Persephone’s words echo in the back of your head, over and over again, “fool”.

**

tagged

@snowsgames

[thislovintime]

In Tokyo on October 2 and 3, 1968. All photos by Koh Hasebe/Getty Images.

“I’m now learning to speak Japanese from the Berlitz Japanese teacher. In the Berlitz school you’re only supposed to speak the language you’re learning, but sometimes we talk in English too. Some of the words I’ve learned are ‘empitzu’ which means ‘pencil,’ ‘Ohaio’ which means ‘Hello’ or ‘Hi’ and ‘Nihongo’ which means the Japanese language itself. When I go to Japan I’d like to go to Kyoto most of all. Kyoto is the former capital of Japan and it’s the center of the Zen Buddhists. Zen Buddhist temples are all over the place and I’d like to go there just to pick up on the vibrations.” - Peter Tork, Monkee Spectacular No. 11 "I’m also studying a lot more about the country itself. I’ve been reading a lot of books about Japanese customs and history and it’s amazing just how interesting these things can be when you want to learn them." - Peter Tork, Tiger Beat, April 1968

[avrelia]

Braving the Elements season 3

The new season of the podcast Braving the Elements concerning the book 3 of the Avatar the Last Airbender started, predictably with the appearance of Mike and Bryan. They talked a little about how busy they are with “something” and a bit more about book 3 “Fire”. There was a lot of mutual admiration and general excitement, but we got some information as well.

- It’s been 20 years, and they don’t remember every detail of their thought process

- they remember some stuff, and are always happy to talk about their inspirations. Like Bryan talking about his trip to Iceland, his admiration for its natural beauty made by volcanic activity, and how Iceland photos became Fire Nation landscapes.

- or Mike telling about his trip to Bhutan and his awe at the Tiger’s Nest temple that became an inspiration for the Western Air Temple.

- they talked about how Ozai’s face reveal – that he is just a regular guy who looks like older Zuko whole we don’t see until Zuko meets him face to face – was initially thought to mean one thing, then it started to mean a slightly different thing, and it is fine.

- Dante was super excited to meet Mark Hamill when recording voices for Zuko and Ozai. (who wouldn’t)

- they talked about inspiration for the lion turtle they found in Korea, and that it really was meant to me there in the story from the beginning, and they tried to hide it while giving away glimpses.

- 99.9% of Air Nomads were airbenders. Because that’s how they invented that world, that’s why.

- Aang was never going to kill Ozai. Never ever. He is a monk and has monk ethics no matter what everyone was telling him.

- animating the scene where Aang and Ozai’s souls are fighting for the dominance during the energybending moment was rather challenging.

- In Bryan’s mind, Iroh is ten years older than Ozai. It is not a confirmed canon, more like idea. Iroh looks much older because of the life he lived, while Ozai has an amazing skincare routine.

- they don’t know any other Fire lords’ names. But you know, those names appear and will appear in various materials – novels, RPG, etc.

- Mike and Bryan love canon relationships – surprise!

- Dante admitted that while he ships Zutara, he started vibing with Zuko/Mai’s relationship as well as he was actually watching the show. Which is fine, and only serves to show his general attitude to shipping: it is a fun activity that keeps the interest going and in the long term helps him to earn money.

- Yes, Dante, there are good people in the Fire Nation, as you’ve been saying all the previous episodes. This time everyone agreed, since we are finally arriving to the Fire Nation.

- I probably forgot something, but you may listen to it – or, for the first time – also watch it on the Avatar the last Airbender official Youtube channel. At first I thought why? And then after I listened to the podcast I couldn’t remember what said Bryan and what said Mike. Not to imply that they are the same – they are very much not- but I have a trouble distinguishing voices I don’t know well. So I watched a bit – and really liked it. Whoever edited the video did a great job of adding some visual jokes and visual illustrations to whatever Janet, Dante, Mike and Bryan were saying. So we can see how Bryan’s photos of Iceland became the Fire Nation, and how Tiger’s Nest looks like.

And it is so easy to remember who was saying what! Mike is the one who looks like Aang, Bryan is the one who looks like Zuko, Dante is the one who sounds like Zuko. And occasionally talks as if he is Zuko.

[thrashkink-coven]

Hi all,

Welcome to my altar tour for 2024! 1/4

This will be a multi post tour for the sake of simplicity. This post is about my main worshipping space.

My altar is the place where I pray, do spellwork, and clear my mind. It is my safe space and temple for my Gods. Most everything you see here is either gifted, thrifted, or DIY.

Most of these photos were taken during or very soon after ritual. I wanted to take more natural “unstaged” photos of my altar in all its dusty, cluttered, and slightly disorganized glory.

My altar sits on this aztec inspired chess board I received as a gift from my older brother- which he found on the side of the road. It has two drawers which contain my incense, wands, spoons, and bay. The skull bracelets on the necks of the glass bottles are to be worn during ritual.

The two salt lamps, as well as the two glass bottles full of offering flowers topped with opallite and amethyst, are meant to embody the two pillars of Solomon’s temple, (Jachin and Boaz) depicted in the illustration “The Compass of the Wise”.

My version is flipped back with the feminine pink rock for Mother Venus on the left, and the masculine gold/yellow rock for Father Mercury on the right.

All of the crystals I keep on my altar reflect this duality of light and dark, also paying homage to my respective spirits with me in the middle of all of these things. On the left, we can see clear quartz, rainbow quartz, rose quartz, white opal, more opallite, and many moonstones. There is also a tribute rhodonite angel figure for Archangel Jophiel and a citrine for him.

On the right we have tiger’s eye, more amethyst, black goldstone, many black obsidian, and golden obsidian. There is also a tribute black obsidian three eyed crow for Faviel.

My selenite wand is used for circle casting. There is also a skeleton figure sitting in prayer, bound with a protective charm. On either side of my chessboard you will also usually find two athames.

My black obsidian scrying mirror is a DIY which I charged under a super harvest moon a couple years back. In front and behind it is blizzard stone, which is a powerful aid in psychic/ astral work. Black obsidian is great for scrying.

My crystal bowl that holds up my pentacle orb is filled with alcohol (vodka) and moon water as an offering to Goddess Inanna and Mother Asherah. I try to balance the elements on my altar as much as possible, with water and fire being of great importance. I use my pentacle orb alongside my scrying mirror.

Beneath it is an obsidian skull (representing myself) a seal, and a talisman.

The seal is a charm created by a talented amulet maker named Joshua Meecha, its purpose is to banish negative energy and improve psychic communication.

The talisman is this six pointed star containing the hand of fatima and 6 angelic eyes. It is a powerful and effective protection charm and aids greatly in angelic communication. The talisman is lay on the seal with a silver chain.

🔱

[echolonely]

Moth palettes

I won't be able to draw for one week during October, so I started working early on Artober/Mothtober. And of course as I was doing some prep work for my first drawing, I started doing a color palette... and then a second one...and then a third one. I ended up doing all of them in one evening, but didn't start drawing 😅

Anyway, here are the first four of them. I'll eventually share them all, and they'll be posted on my pinterest in a dedicated board too. Those 4 are all around brownish/yellow tones but some of them have beautiful pink and green colors 😍

All the photos I used to create the palettes are under Creative Common Attribution license with permitted derivative work, so, the palettes images are too.

Credits for the photos:

Garden Tiger moth from Temple of Mara

Goat moth from Ben Sale

Io moth from Cotinis

Puss moth from Mark Fosh

[joeinct]

In the Temple of Red Tiger, Photo by Manuel Alvarez Bravo, 1949

[tdciago]

Do you think there's a possibility based on that interview from Joe Keery that we may get some flashbacks of Dot when she was at Tillman's house? Also, if we're gonna find out something about Gator's mother?

Based on other things that Noah Hawley has said, it seems like we're not really going to see much of their backstory played out on camera. Juno Temple also said that she didn't get to work with Jon Hamm that much, but Jennifer Jason Leigh did.

Something that *may* be going on this season is that we're getting bits of the story from the point of view of different characters. So Munch says that Roy apparently hired him and didn't tell him that Dot was a tiger, so he chose Donny as his partner. But Gator says he's the one who hired the kidnapper, and it was Donny that he found, which means Donny chose Munch, not the other way around.

So we may get opposing stories about Roy and Dot from each of them. When Roy sees the wedding photo on the wall, he's looking at Nadine/Dot in the photo, and she seems happy. But there's a wedding photo he will give to Lorraine (shown in a preview) where they look like the couple in the painting "American Gothic", stern and unhappy and not connecting. I wonder if we're actually seeing two different photos, or if Roy is seeing that same photo through rose-colored glasses, while Lorraine is seeing it as it really was.

The following is spoilery regarding the first wife.

There is an actress credited in 5.7 named Kari Matchett who seems to be the first wife shown in Roy's wedding photos. That episode, "Linda," is filled with women who have similar names, like Tonda, Landa, Lynda, and Belin, which is presumably Belinda. The description is "Dot takes a fantastic journey." It sounds like something trippy. Maybe she's knocked out or given a drug. But it's possible that Kari Matchett is Linda, and we'll find out something about her. Will it be a dream, or real?

[praveentelugutraveller]

జరిగిన సంఘటన :  శిల లా మారిన స్త్రీ.. ఇప్పటికి ఇక్కడే ఉంది ! | Kotappa Konda Temple Miracle

#kotappakonda

#praveentelugutraveller

#praveenvideos 

#gunturvideos

#palnadutemples

#gunturutemples

#andhrapradeshtemple

#andhratemple

#andhrapradeshvideos

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[megashadowdragon]

Jaguar & Tezcatlipoca's Reunion Photo Tour!

Commentary: You can consider this a spiritual successor to Babylonia Omake: Jaguar Man's Último Adios.

"

Jaguar PELIGRO!!!

Commentary:

You thought I was out of Jaguar Memes? You're wrong! I just saved the best for last.

As a loyal minion of Tezcatlipoca, Jaguar Man joining up with Quetz is kind of like the pet (or No. 2) of the villain shacking up with the protagonists for an episode. It's a cute change to the dynamic, but you know it can't last because that mutt's only really doing that out of convenience until the status quo kicks back in.

So Quetz treating her with suspicion is pretty justified. They've been enemies for an entire mythos and she knows that Jaguar's only trying to kiss up to her because her usual boss isn't around.

Likewise, I'd like to think that Jaguar wouldn't mind getting a good hit in on Quetzalcoatl before scampering off back to the Throne and the Court of the Smoking Mirror. At least, that's how I like to regard their dynamic.

This comic and its punchline were partially inspired by this X-Play sketch. Anyone else remember X-Play? Good times.

The title of the comic is a reference to "Mi Ultimo Adios", the final poem of Filipino writer and national hero Dr. Jose Rizal.

While Cabron technically means "male goat" in Spanish, it is usually used as a catch-all expletive/insult. Please don't recklessly say it in public. I wash my hands of the mater.

Jaguar puts the (True) label after her boss' name to further distinguish him from how his four fellow creator gods Quetzalcoatl, Huitzilopochti and Xipe Totec are alternatively known as the White, Blue, and Red Tezcatlipoca respectively.

Tony the Tiger and Star Trek references. Couldn't resist. Sorry.

We'll be going back to the regular schedule after this strip. I hope you enjoyed these back-to-back marathon miniseries!

Do you guys prefer to call not!Taiga "Jaguar Man" or "Jaguar Warrior"?

"

orojuice commentary More Primeval Villain + Cat Archetrope Adventures! Had this idea since LB7 dropped, but I could never get Georgios to look right for the lead-up panel. That is until I remembered that CE of his. Finding that red waterfall background was also a huge boost since initially, I just placed a blood splatter on the final camera shutter background before the last panel would show the same background before that but without the duo. Much more fun this way. For Quetzalcoatl. According to the 8th Anniversary FGO interview with the creators, the giant robotic ghost that Tezcatlipoca summons for his NP sometimes? Apparently, his illustrator Shou Tajima was given complete freedom to do whatever he wanted for the Sun God's Third Ascension so long as he followed the specifications for the first two. The robotic ghost was his initial submission for that. And yes, this Third Ascension Tezcatlipoca was always that big. Nasu and the other creative heads liked it a lot, but they couldn't find a way to feasibly program it into the typical three Servant line-up. Mr. Tajima was asked to make a more typical Third Ascension in its place. However, while they couldn't have it in the game as a playable sprite, they did model it for use in Tezcatlipoca's First and Second Ascension NP sequences. So if he had, theoretically, transformed into that to fight Quetzalcoatl in this comic, he could've produced roughly this much blood.

spacebattles comments

Mash: Jaguar Man! Tezcatlipoca!

Fujimaru: D-D-Did you just take pictures of a m-murder?

Georgios: That's the scary part, Master. I didn't.

Fujimaru and Mash: Huh?

Georgios: Those pictures you're looking at? All of them were taken at the same spot at roughly the same time. It was supposed to be a photo of them enjoying their day in the city. Then, when I took more shots, I got those images. (shudder) The whole thing just creeps me out. I'm thinking of brining my camera to a temple to have it cleansed or something along the line.

Mash: What could this mean, Senpai?

Fujimaru: I'm not s-

Jaguar Man (passing by): Oh boy, nya! I can't wait to go on that hiking trip! Just you and me, Tez!

Tezcatlipoca: Yup! Just the two of us in the woods! No one to bother us as we enjoy ourselves! Wait, what about Coatl?

Jaguar Man: Nyot to worry! I sent her on a wild goose chase across the Sahara Desert!

Tezcatlipoca: Ha ha! What an idiot!

Fujimaru, Mash and Georgios: …

Georgios: Umm … guys? Do you think that my camera could have been taking photos of the future?

Fujimaru: Georgios? For our remaining sanity, please just drop the subject.

Georgios: But-

Mash: Senpai said to drop it.

[van-yangyin]

2023年いい正月でーびる！⁽*¹⁾ Feliz año nuevo 2023!

Me and @lea-heartscxiv wish you all a Happy New Year. We hope you all a year that goes wonderful for all of you, or at least better than the previous one. Five days ago we say it from Lea's Tumblr, you can see it here if are interested. Also in our Blogger we wrote a special post in Japanese with a funny text that you can red here.

If you want to read the publication that we have made of this post on our blog you can read it below:

In english

En español

Or see info and images under the cut line ↓

A few days ago I published the image that Lea and I published last year that you can see here. This is the continuation of this years New Year.

Oka: Everyone ready for the photo? Hiromi: Oka, why do not you want to be in it? Oka: Because I'm not dressed for the occasion. Say cheese!⁽*²⁾ Oka take the picture. Oka: Wait a minute! Hiromi, you made the rock and roll symbol, not the rabbit symbol. Hiromi: I know, there are rabbits of all kinds. Gaaah! Oka: «Lately he's acting in a way that I like a lot too.» - thinking.

Kaoru: Why the hell did you have to put these damn bunny ears on me? I'm not a rabbit! Kojiro: Now yes. Besides the tiger; that is me; the testimony pass to you, the year is now all yours.⁽*³⁾ Kaoru: I only have him a few centimeters away to hit him with my fan, so he can hear me too, right? Kojiro: Come on, I don't want it to show too much that I'm enjoying it. And more now that it's not just me who wears this "accessories".

Tadashi: Ainosuke-sama... Ainosuke: I know what you want it. Just do it.

Miya: ぴょんぴょん (pyon pyon)⁽*⁴⁾ Reki: Miya, you're having fun, right? Miya: Yes, a lot. 😊 Because rabbits are also small and adorable. Langa: Reki, look at me! Reki: Yes? Langa: You look great! Reki: Huh? Hehe, you too Langa.

And here we have Oka taking a "photo" reminder of the day, he didn't want to be in the group photo because he wasn't dressed for the occasion, but he promised Hiromi that they would take a photo when they met at the temple. Later, though, he went to change to head to the temple for the first visit of the year.

*1 2023年いい正月でーびる！ translates as Happy New Year 2023 written in Japanese or more specifically in Okinawan (いい正月でーびる！= Happy New Year) *2 The "Say cheese" says it as it is written. *3 Last year was the year of the tiger in Japan, in the name of 虎次郎 (Kojiro) the first kanji contains the one used to name the tiger in Japanese, 虎 (tora) and that's why we gave him ears and a tail of tiger, while this year is the year of the rabbit and in one of the promotional illustrations of SK8 the Infinity they drew Kaoru with a rabbit costume and it's the only illustration in which one of them is shown as a rabbit or with rabbit motifs, so following this premise we have put rabbit ears on Kaoru. In this way Kojiro and Kaoru are "fighting" among themselves for "the role" they have been given. *4 ぴょんぴょん (pyon pyon) Japanese onomatopoeia of the jumping rabbit. In addition Reki, Kojiro, Langa and Miya with their hands are making the shape of rabbit ears.

My SK8 sims compilation 🛹 | BLOGGER | F.A.Q. | MY OTHER SNS | LEA’S SNS

[riseofthecommonwoodpile]

Another round done, a shit ton of high ratings, oh well i don't care, i'm not a professional i just like music

Aki Hoshino (ほしのあき)- Nyaa! (にゃぁあ!) (6.5/10, deleted from library [sadly])

Alice Coltrane- Turiya Sings (9.5/10)

Anohni and the Johnsons- I Am A Bird Now (9.0/10)

Archers of Loaf- Icky Mettle (8.0/10)

Ayesha Erotica- Big Juicy (8.0/10)

Band of Susans- Love Agenda (8.5/10)

Bauhaus- In the Flat Field (9.0/10)

BiS- IDOL is DEAD (7.5/10)

Burial- Temple Sleeper (7.5/10)

C.W. Vrtacek- Silent Heaven (7.0/10)

Dälek- Abandoned Language (8.5/10)

Death Cab For Cutie- The Photo Album (8.5/10)

Diamanda Galás- Plague Mass (10/10)

Earl Sweatshirt- I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside (9.0/10)

Eiichi Otaki (大滝詠一)- A Long Vacation (6.5/10, deleted from library, just not my thing)

Foxxi misQ- A-L-I-V-E (8.5/10)

Indian Summer- Science 1994 (8.5/10)

John Zorn- Chimeras (7.5/10)

Lambchop- Aw C'mon (9.0/10)

Lambchop- No You C'mon (8.5/10)

Melvins- Lysol (8.5/10)

Michael Jones- After the Rain (7.0/10)

Quicksand- Slip (8.0/10)

The Sea Urchins- Stardust (7.0/10)

Seiko Oomori (大森靖子)- TOKYO BLACK HOLE (8.5/10)

The Soft Pink Truth- Do You Party? (8.0/10)

Supercar- Highvision (8.5/10)

System F- Out of the Blue (7.5/10)

Tatuki Seksu- Hanazawa EP (8.0/10)

Tentenko (テンテンコ)- Deep & Moistures 1 (7.5/10)

Tiger Trap- Tiger Trap (8.5/10)

Tindersticks- Tindersticks (8.0/10)

Varathron- His Majesty at the Swamp (8.0/10)

Vladislav Delay- Anima (9.0/10)

The White Noise- An Electric Storm (8.5/10)

Yuka Kosaka- Ero Puri Trance (8.0/10)

Zomby & Burial- Sweetz (8.0/10)

[purplesimmer455]

Iseul was offered an assignment a few days ago to take photos of Tomarang's nature scenery by one of her clients, and she took it eagerly, with her girlfriend Grace accompanying her. They rented a cozy but nice studio unit*, 1 Tam Nang Sands, and unpacked. While Grace napped, Iseul took some photos.

Iseul had last been in Tomarang two years ago when she had to take photos of some buildings and food stalls and write about them for a magazine. She loved visiting places like temples, parks, the tiger sanctuary, restaurants, buying things at stalls, and meeting other people and getting to know about Tomarani culture. She was there for one month and stayed at a vacant unit in Koh Sahpa that the Sadya family rented to her, and even went on a few dates with some cute women she'd met and connected with, and became friends with the Sadyas.

Now, Iseul took a break from her photography and headed back to her rental unit. She changed out of her everyday clothes into her button down red and black dragon shirt, black pants, and put on the onyx dangle earring she'd bought in San Myshuno. Grace was up, and she smiled as she watched Iseul get ready, putting gel in her hair and combing it and then putting on some moisturizer on her face. "You’re dressing up for me, Issy?” She said. "Yup, I want to look nice for our date." She said. "You do. You're the most handsome and beautiful woman, jaan." Grace said softly. “Thanks, you’re gorgeous too, Jagiya.” Iseul said, flushing, and Grace grinned. “I know, thanks Issy.” She said, and Iseul grinned too. “I love how confident you are.” Iseul said. “Let’s head out now because otherwise we’ll spend all night woohooing each other.” Grace said. “On second thought we could stay in.” Iseul joked, and Grace rolled her eyes but smiled. “Come on, Issy. We’ll woohoo when we come back because that nap gave me loads of energy.” She added mischievously, making Iseul blush.

Iseul took Grace out to the night market to enjoy some food and buy some local produce and wares. Grace’s eyes widened at the stalls and items and the smell of amazing food and sounds of vendors calling out and people chatting as they sat and ate. Iseul ordered Malaysian Satay from one stall and Grace paused, biting her lip. “What’s wrong, babe?” Iseul asked. “I’m not sure if the Bánh xèo has pork or not. I’ll just order from the vegetarian stall.” She said, Iseul put a hand on her arm. “Hang on, Jagiya, let me ask.” She said, and she spoke in rusty but decent Tomarani, asking the vendor if they had a pork free version, and they did. Iseul and Grace thanked them as they got their food, and Iseul insisted on paying. “It’s my treat, Gracie.” Iseul joked sternly. “Fine, okay.” Grace said, and she bumped her shoulder flirtatiously with Iseul’s as they sat down. “This Bánh xèo looks as good as you.” Grace said, and Iseul laughed, shaking her head at her girlfriend’s cheesiness.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

The Princess of Wales and Meghan dress for sport by u/Mickleborough

The Princess of Wales and Meghan dress for sport La pom-pom girl en chef:Ayahuasca, anyone?Let’s examined the evidence.Sporty Meghan plays table tennisI’ve only been able to come across one - one - image of Meghan playing sport. And I wouldn’t actually call it ‘playing’, as there’s no visual evidence.November 2022: Meghan in a promo for the Invictus Games 2023. No paddle, no ball - but we’re led to believe that she’s playing / about to play table tennis because, in the preceding frame, Harry‘s seen with the right equipment. Chicken tacos lunch with Michelle Obama, anyone?March 2020. The then Duchess of Cambridge at Savannah House, Co Kildare, Ireland, a respite facility which provides overnight housing for young people who need to get away sometimes.Meghan goes hikingIn what the uncharitable would say was a stunt to distract from King Charles’s coronation, Meghan was ‘papped’ hiking by a friendly photographed.May 2023. There’s gold in them thar hills! Or on Meghan’s arm anyway.Here’s the then Duchess of Cambridge, dressed for a 5-hour hike in the Himalayas to visit Paro Taktsang, the Tiger’s Nest, the most spiritual temple in Bhutan.April 2016. No sweat! Literally - there are reports that she wasn’t perspiring. That could be sycophantic, but does add to the mystique of Kate.Is La pom-pom girl en chef correct? (NB I do realise that the photos of the Princess of Wales pre-date Meghan’s - I’m relying on sugar logic here.) Does the Princess of Wales copy Meghan’s (cough) style?That’s all. post link: https://ift.tt/b10Fe2I author: Mickleborough submitted: December 04, 2023 at 09:02PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

[generictravelblog]

Hiiiiiiiii

It’s been a busy 3(?) days! We visited 2 temples, Wat Arun and The Grand Palace. I definitely think I’m going to visit The Grand Palace again, our time there was so quick and we didn’t get to see much. I saw the emerald Buddha, which we’re not allowed to take photos of but it was so beautiful. I highly recommend giving it a google search.

We also did 2 boat tours. One around Bangkok, which took us to an orchid farm where they extract orchid juice (?) for perfumes! At the other boat tour, we went to a floating market outside of Bangkok. I bought some fancy sarong pants(that I overpaid for), tiger balm, coconut toffee! We visited a coconut farm as well and saw how they make coconut cream, coconut water, and coconut sugar. It was all sooo delicious. Coconut water tastes so different here and I actually like it, unlike back home.

Our last night in Bangkok we had some free time, so I went to Khoasan Road to see the night life. I had a vodka orange juice in a bucket and shared it with my friends, Andrea, Courtney, Ashley, and Cat. I wouldn’t go back to Khoasan Road though, it’s not my scene. It was crazy hot, crowded, and the vendors were aggressive. I did, however, like the bracelets with offensive phrases on them. They had some really funny ones.

We are flying to Chiang Mai now! I will update again when I get a chance.