#tilly north

[gwydionmisha]

North Carolina GOP votes to censure Sen. Thom Tillis for straying from party platform

[grison-in-space]

anyway for a little dog some threats are apparently more exciting than others

[kmbezner]

Aaaaaand it's time for my top ten favorite reads of the year! In no particular order:

Notes from the Burning Age by Claire North

I'll start with the first book I read this year, cause WOW what a book to start with. I started reading this as an egalley at the end of 2021, but didn’t finish it before it expired 😭 It’s a truly amazing cocktail of one part dystopian climate fiction, one part political thriller, one part fantastical mythology, garnished with a bit of philosophy. North seamlessly weaves these elements in a way that makes you want to write like that.

Full Review | Local Library | Bookshop | Indiebound | Libro

The Carrying by Ada Limón

The Undocumented Americans by Karla Cornejo Villavicencio

I read both of these books during a kind of nonfiction blitz challenge that started when my supervisor in the reference department asked for staff picks for a display and I realized I hadn't read any nonfiction in an embarrassingly long time. Both of these ended up on the staff pick display, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about them since.

The Carrying is a beautiful collection of poetry I had read single poems from before, but the entire collection comes together to paint a picture of loss and love traced across generations.

Short Review | Local Library | Bookshop | Indiebound | Libro

I listened to The Undocumented Americans, which I highly recommend as Villavicencio reads it herself and does a wonderful job. It's in part a collection of interviews that turns to reflect Villacencio's own life and the connections she makes with those she meets.

Bookshop | Local Library | Indiebound | Libro

On a Sunbeam by Tillie Walden

The Honeys by Ryan La Sala

These were both book club reads, one for my local library's graphic novel book club and the other for QUEST RI. The funny thing is that I ended up not being able to attend the actual meeting for either of them, but damn they were good.

I've been a fan of Tillie Walden for a while now, and am kicking myself for not reading this one sooner. They are SO skilled at that kind of faded nostalgia, that bittersweet, melancholic sadness through gorgeous artwork and sparse, emotional storytelling. Also, gays in space.

Local Library | Bookshop | Indiebound

The Honeys is a perfectly tense and taut YA thriller that is so hard to put down. It's got a dark academia vibe despite being set at a summer camp, with plenty of surreal summer feels and guillotine-the-rich vibes.

Local Library | Bookshop | Indiebound | Libro

How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy by Jenny Odell

This book has been on my TBR for a while now, and when the college library I work at started looking for recommendations for next year’s college-wide read on the theme of social media, I figured it was finally time to jump on it. It was much more than I expected, mainly because I was expecting a kind of self-help book plus. But this book isn’t just about putting down your phone every once in a while, it’s an exploration of a cultural shift that’s centuries in the making. Odell discusses art, music, philosophy, psychology, politics, and of course big tech as she traces how our attention has become a commodity to be monetized.

Local Library | Bookshop | Indiebound | Libro

His Majesty's Dragon by Naomi Novik

The Empress of Salt and Fortune by Nghi Vo

These books are doing the job of carrying their whole series onto this list. No, it's not cheating, it's my list and my rules :)

I actually read His Majesty's Dragon years ago, and despite tearing through it didn't get around to reading the other books. During a months-long reading slump earlier this year I decided to dredge myself out of it by rereading a book I knew I liked, and letting the series carry me from there. And boy howdy it worked! I was hoping to finish the series this year, but due to life things and library holds that won't come in for a couple more weeks that plan has been thwarted :/

Short Review | Local Library | Indiebound | Libro

I was looking for a quick read when I started the Singing Hills Cycle, and was just astonished at how much lore Vo packs into these novellas. There is so much information about this world in such short and deeply satisfying books, each one a snapshot into a different aspect of the world, shared in ways that both celebrate and challenge the nature of storytelling, history, and memory.

Full Review | Local Library | Bookshop | Indiebound | Libro

Frizzy by Claribel A. Ortega & Rose Bousamra

Received as an ARC from BookishFirst, this was not only one of my favorite books of the year, but is showing up on best of lists all over the place. And rightfully so—this middle grade graphic novel is about so much more than hair, as important as that is. I can’t stress enough that everyone should read this book.

Full Review | Local Library | Bookshop | Indiebound

Mage and the Endless Unknown by SJ Miller

No cover for this one, because it hasn’t been revealed yet! I read this comic as an egalley on Edelweiss and was instantly grabbed by the eerie artwork and because Iron Circus Comics consistently publishes some of my favorite books. Mage is a collected webcomic, and, without spoiling too much, is basically Over the Garden Wall by Junji Ito (so…CW for graphic imagery. yeah, I know the art starts off kinda cutesy, just trust me). Keep an eye out for this one next year, or if you can’t wait you can read the original webcomic online!

Read Online | Bookshop | Indiebound

[jerichopalms]

Her brother lies on an iron cot, all day and watches, on a mattress of rags he lies. For twenty-five years he worked for the railroad, then they laid him off (racked days, searching for work; rebuffs; suspicious eyes of policemen.) goodbye ambrose, mebbe in dallas I find work; desperate swing for a freight, surprised hadns, clutching air, and the wheel goes over a leg, the railroad cuts if off, as it cut off twenty-five years of his life.) She says that he prays and dreams of another world, as he lies there, a heaven (which he does not know was brought to earth in 1917 in Russia, by workers like him).

"I Want You Women Up North to Know" by Tillie Olsen from she walks in beauty: A Woman's Journey Through Poems selected and edited by Caroline Kennedy

[nthspecialll]

I think we sometimes as a fandom tend to hyper-focus on certian characters' backgrounds simply because we like the character when in reality other characters who might not be as interesting has way better backstories, because no, Javier, Arthur and John are not the only ones with sad backstories

Like why does no one talk about what happened to Leopold's sister? Why does no one talk about young Lenny tracking down and killing folk? Why does no one talk about Javier actually in a way working for the government for a while and the reason why he killed that powerful military man? Why does no one talk about why Dutch is called Dutch and not by his actual first name? Why does no one talk about Bill's worst childhood fear coming true? Why does no one talk about both Swanson and Micah saving Dutch's life or that Tilly is also a murderer?

Anyways here is a full explanation of all the Van Der Linde gang members backstories.

Sean MacQuire

Sean Macquire and his father lived in Ireland possibly with more family but had to flee because the English (who were at the time in charge of ireland) were chasing them. They fled for their lives and they were in Boston for a month before his dad was shot in his sleep, showing the remaining Sean that there was truly no honor or shame in the world.

He was then sent to a reform school, which we all know was abusive and a living hell, so he ran, living as a low-life thief, he was a teenager, when he in a bar somewhere in North Elizabeth saw Dutch and Hosea and liked Dutch's watch. He followed the two into an alleyway and threatened them at gunpoint, however they laughed at him and told him to shoot, so he did, except the two others had noticed him first and taken the bullets from his gun. Sean started crying, thinking they were going to kill him but instead of doing that they gave him a home, a place to belong.

Lenny Summers

Lenny's grandparents as well as parents were slaves and his mother was born on a cotton field and taken away from his grandmother, who hadn't even known she was pregnant, immediately. His grandmother was then told to simply get back to work.

After the civil war, the old overseer kept making advandages towards Lenny's grandmother, to a point that in the end she needed to kill him and just barely escaped being lynched. Lenny's mother never saw the grandmother again.

Lenny's mother later met Mr Summers who was an educated man and taught Lenny to both read and write, however when Lenny was 15, his dad was beaten to death by several drunk men. Lenny stole a gun, tracked and hunted down the men, shooting them and showing no remorse even years later.

Kieran Duffy

Kieran Duffy's father was an Irishman who came to America with a dream of farming. It was there that he met Kieran's mother and not long after having Kieran, they both passed due to Cholera and not shortly after that the stables that he worked at to support himself threw him out. He decided to join the army to support himself but it didn't last long before he quit due to it "not working out well."

After returning from the army, he fell into work with a bunch of unnamed outlaws, though they all passed away, leaving him alone once again.

At some point he ran into the O'Driscolls who gave him a choice, to ride with them or to get killed, esencially forcing him to join them and work as a stable hand for them, though he was at the bottom of the latter simply working with the horses before being kidnapped by Arthur Morgan and joining the Van Der Linde gang.

Leopold Strauss

Leopold Strauss was born into severe poverty in Austria and his family struggled heavily with food. By the time that Strauss was only twelve, his older brother was beating up nightwatch men for whatever cash and food scraps they had on them. By that time Strauss's father had already sold his younger sister Anna, by the age of nine, into bonded labour to be able to provide for the rest of the family.

When Stauss was seventeen he was sent with his uncle to the US due to health problems, however the hellish sight of Brooklyn gave Strauss's uncle a heart attack on the spot, leaving Strauss alone in a forgein country. To survive he began doing illegal money scams and after doing so for years Dutch picked him up.

Tilly Jackson

Tilly Jackson was the daughter of a slave and became an outlaw by the mere age of twelve, running with a gang called the Foreman brothers who kidnapped her but after murdering the leaders cousin after he made advandages on her, she had to flee. She returned to her mothers workplace but found that she had already passed.

Later Tilly ran into Dutch Van Der Linde and as he was already taking care of John Marston and Arthur Morgan, he took her in, becoming just as much as a father figure to her as to the boys.

Micah Bell

Micah Bell was born directly into a life of crime as his father Micah Bell jr was a petty but ruthless and violent outlaw. Already when Micah was 17 him and his father were on run from the law as they had slid Jean and Roscoe Briggs throats and later hung them as well. His father was also his primary partner in crime, however he also seemed to have teamed up with his brother Amos a few times as well, however Amos regretted his past life and started a proper one with wife and children and threatened to kill Micah if he came close.

Micah had several partners in crime later in life, including Joe and Cleet who appears later in the game, as well as a fellow named Norman.

Micah runs into Dutch Van Der Linde in 1898 in a bar as Dutch is trying to sell some stolen goods, however the deal doesn’t work out and Micah steps in to help Dutch and save his life, earning a place in the gang.

Bill Williamson

Bill Williamson, also known as Marion Williamson, was born into an abusive family with a father who lost his mind to alchohol, even going to the point of mixing moonshine with whiskey. Watching this Bill always feared falling in love with liquor and suffering the same fate.

Bill always showed signs of being more of a troubled kid and being sent to a reform school did not stop him from building s solid criminal record as a kid.

Bill would later apply to the military and serve in the 15th infantry, fighting against the native americans before being dishonorably discharged for deviancy and attempted murder in 1892. For a year after he lived rough, truly falling in love with liqour and stealing from people om the side of the roads, one time being robbed himself by a "woman" (likely a cross dresser or genderqueer person).

In 1893 Bill tried to rob Dutch and got angry as the man simply laughed at him, however he calmed down as he was allowed a spot in the Van Der Linde gang.

Daniel(?) "Dutch" Van Der Linde

Dutch's mother was an english woman named Greta and his father a dutch man who lived somewhere near Philadelphia who fought in the civil war and died, which is why Dutch hated southeners.

Dutch's nickname rumors to come from his father's desperate attempt at keeping touch with his ancerstory.

When he was 15, he left home due to troubles with his mother whom he never got along with and simply saw him as a disobedient and troubled kid. He wished for freedom above all so to gain this he started a life of crime and in mid 1870 met Hosea Matthews.

(Second edit: I am not 100% sure Daniel is his true name, thus the ?, however I found it on his wiki page and added it)

Hosea Matthews

Hosea was born in around 1844 and lived the majority of his earlier life in the mountians, growing to love fishing and hunting. His father was mostly absent, living a life of "sin and debauchery that would make an emperor blush." Hosea saw his dad only about three times in his life but loved him none the less.

He tried to make his way with comedy as a stage actor, however he turned to petty thieft, stealing from his audience and later others in town. He was caught by the sheif stealing a chicken and sentenced to be hanged. Luckiy for Hosea the town folk saw it as a punishment too cruel and a riot broke out which ended with someone shooting the noose around Hosea's neck, allowing him to flee.

Mid 1870 Hosea found Dutch sitting by a campfire and decided to rob him, however found that Dutch had already robbed him. Hosea feared for a moment for his life but it ended with the two of them laughing it off and teaming up.

Molly O'Shea

Molly O'Shea was born into a wealthy Irish family, set up to live a proper and educated life, however she quickly got bored and showed little interest in the life set up for her, so she ran off to America in search of adventure and excitment. At some point she ran into Dutch Van Der Linde and found an interest in him and his life style, only to later genuiently fall in love with him.

Arthur Morgan

Arthur Morgan was born to Beatrice and Lyle Morgan in northen US. His mother died in his early life and he never really got along with his father whom there are rumors was abusive. Lyle lived a life of petty crime and was arrested and executed. Arthur saw his father die and although not having the best relationship, Arthur kept his father's hat and picture.

In 1877 Arthur was 14 and a wild delinquent. He ran into Dutch and Hosea, being picked up and taken under their wing, taught not only the ways of crime but also skills like reading, writing, hunting and so on.

Uncle

Uncle was born in Ohio (insert Penelope Braithwaithe shutter) with the only family present being his parents who died when he was nine and an "uncle" named Jeb whom Uncle hints at being a pedofile.

After his parents death he was on his own and was forced to a new city where he had to care for himself, and from that time to the game start in 1899, we know he has been married at least twice.

Uncle tells many stories of his past such as going to Africa and being worthshipped like a god by the locals, however the truth of these stories are highly doubted due to his tendency to lie. He does tell stories of being a "one shot kid" in his younger days, the truth of these also being doubted, however it may have been his tricket into the Van Der Linde gang.

Susan Grimsaw

Along with Hosea, Dutch and Arthur Susan was one of the founding memebers of the Van Der Linde gang, having run into Dutch during a poker game where both he and she found interest in one another, causing the curious couple and their unruly son to stay in the area a bit longer, paying poker long into the night while Susan sat on Dutch's lap.

Having gotten into a romantic relationship with Dutch, Susan was allowed to join the small group and even stayed when Dutch moved on to Annabelle, now serving as a form of housemother, making sure that people did their work, took properly care of themselves and made camp feel like home.

You can also hear Susan talking to Mary-Beth one time in camp, admitting that she had a fiance once however he went to heaven.

John Marston

John Marston was born in 1873 to an illiterate scottish father born on the boat to New York and a prositute mother who died during his birth. At first John lived with his father who constantly spoke of Scotland and his love for the country, however he was blinded in a bar fight south of Chicargo and later died when John was eight. The true cause of his father's death is unknown however John was told it was a barfight.

John spent a few years in an orphanage before running off and living on his own, at the mere age of eleven commiting his first murder by shooting a man, though he claims it was not his fault.

At the age of twelve John had been caught stealing from homesteaders who planned to have him hanged, however Dutch stepped in and took him under his wing.

Orville Swanson

Swanson used to wrok as a Clergyman but after indulging in the "earthly pleasures", being seduced by alchohol and sex, he lost his family, job and in the end faith, though he desperately tried to regain it.

At some point or another he fell in love with a woman named Margaret, though she was already married, so he simply added bigamy to the list of sins he had already commited. When the two of them were in San Fransisco, the law finally caught up wth them and while she fled onto a ship headed for Shanghai he was stuck and never saw her again.

Under unknown circomstances Swanson came to save Dutch's life and due to Dutch's debt to Swanson he was allowed to join the gang.

Mary-Beth Gaskill

Being a woman of good nature, Mary-Beth did not struggle getting close to her victims after having found herself needing to find a living in the streets. Due to her looks and personality she could with ease fool the richer men into thinking they were saving a poor maiden in need while her fingers slipped into their pockets.

It was through this that Mary-Beth got in trouble with not just the law but her victims as well. One night she had gotten a few foul men on her tail that she ran into the Van Der Linde gang who saved her and asked her to join them.

Charles Smith

Charles Smith was born to a Native Mother and a free African American father, all three of them living fairly happily with his mothets tripe together with a few other free men before the US army chased them away.

They continued to live together but a few years later Charles' mother was captured by the army, leading Charles' father to fall into alcoholism and a deep depression.

At the mere age of 13 Charles left his father and began to live on his own, becoming a supreme survivalist from an early age.

Some point during the late 1898 ran into the Van Der Linde gang in the Grizzlies and joined them.

Simon Pearson

Simon Pearson's family were whale hunters and although Pearson wished to follow in their footsteps it did not go that way due to the whale industry having lessened by the time that he got out of school. Having been forced to look for new employment options, Pearson joins the Navy where he even managed to get stranded for fifty days on a ship filled with plauge, watching his friends and coworkers slowly drop one by one.

After having returned from the Navy Pearson begins to struggle financially and takes a loan, however unable to pay it off loansharks comes after him and it is during one of these attempts at getting to Pearson that the Van Der Linde gang saves him and brings him to camp as a cook.

Abigail Marston

Abigail Marston, originally born Abigail Roberts, was orphaned at a young age and started roaming around bars, scraping whatever few coins she could take from folk before starting a work of prostitution, making an earning by selling her body and at some point running into Uncle at a bar who introduced her to the gang.

Now living with the gang, Abigail still worked as a prositute up until falling pregnant with Jack Marston by John Marston.

Josiah Trelawny

Josiah Trelawny was born in England though he has no memories of his life there, he later imigated to America where he starts working as a conman and trickster. It was during this line of work that he met yhe Van Der Linde gang and joined them bur with a special advandage as he, unlike the others, was allowed to appear and disappear as he pleased, always knowing when Dutch planned to cut him off and return with a big hit.

Josiah has a family living in Saint Denis concisting of a wife and two sons named Tarquin and Cornelius. Just as with the gang, he would disappear on them for months.

Karen Jones

Karen Jones lived as a scam artist in her early years and absolutely loved the outlaw lifestyle and hoped for a bit more which partly drove her to accept the Van Der Linde gang's invitation, hoping to achieve more.

Javier Escuella

Javier Escuella was born in Mexico to a drunkard father who worked for Allende' (a main antagonist in rdr1, a military man) uncle. When he was young he saw his own uncle as well as four other separate men get casterated and fed to pigs for simply suggesting fair wages for their work.

Javier moved on to become a violent and known bounty hunter and revolutionary, fighting against what he saw as a corupt system.

Javier ended up killing a powerful former military man for a woman that he loved, fearing for his loved ones life he fled to America where he knew no english and had no work or food, leaving him starving.

It was in America that he ran into Dutch as they both were trying to steal the same chickens. Dutch took Javier in, fed him, gave him a family and a life, leading Javuer to idiolize Dutch also for his revolutionary ideals.

At some unknown point someone attempted to kill Javier, leading to him having a prominent scar on his throat.

Sadie Alder

Sadie Alder grew up in a harsh envioment and from a very early age learned how to hunt and ride to care for herself, things that Jack Adler fell in love with. The two of them married september 1896, moving to a ranch in Ambarino where they had three happy years of marriage before the O'Driscolls arrived at their cabin.

[theartofangirling]

part 2 of the 2023 version of this post: young adult books!

part 1: middle grade books | part 3: adult books

this is a very incomplete list, as these are only books I've read and enjoyed. not all books are going to be for all readers, so I'd recommend looking up synopses and content warnings. feel free to message me with any questions about specific representation!

list of books under the cut ⬇️

aces wild by amanda dewitt

the chandler legacies by abdi nazemian

bruised by tanya boteju

juliet takes a breath by gabby rivera

picture us in the light by kelly loy gilbert

when we were magic by sarah gailey

iron widow by xiran jay zhao

the rise of kyoshi by f.c. yee

jane unlimited by kristin cashore

summer of salt by katrina leno

the wicker king by k. ancrum

the dead and the dark by courtney gould

wilder girls by rory power

i kissed shara wheeler by casey mcquiston

her royal highness by rachel hawkins

tell me how you really feel by aminah mae safi

the weight of the stars by k. ancrum

you should see me in a crown by leah johnson

last night at the telegraph club by malinda lo

the grief keeper by alexandra villasante

crier's war by nina varela

how to excavate a heart by jake maia arlow

imogen, obviously by becky albertalli

in other lands by sarah rees brennan

carry on by rainbow rowell

cemetery boys by aiden thomas

felix ever after by kacen callendar

i wish you all the best by mason deaver

little thieves by margaret owen

technically you started it by lana wood johnson

the gentleman's guide to vice and virtue by mackenzi lee

the infinite noise by lauren shippen

bonds of brass by emily skrutskie

the darkness outside us by eliot schrefer

simon vs. the homo sapiens agenda by becky albertalli

what if it's us by becky albertalli and adam silvera

aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe by benjamin alire sáenz

like a love story by abdi nazemian

different for boys by patrick ness

history is all you left me by adam silvera

twelfth grade night by molly horton booth, stephanie kate strohm, and jamie green

across a field of starlight by blue delliquanti

heartstopper by alice oseman

check, please! by ngozi ukazu

bloom by kevin panetta and savanna ganucheau

laura dean keeps breaking up with me by mariko tamaki and rosemary valero-o'connell

the princess and the grilled cheese sandwich by deya muniz

if you'll have me by eunnie

on a sunbeam by tillie walden

the girl from the sea by molly knox ostertag

always human by ari north

rust in the root by justina ireland

dread nation by justina ireland

pet by awkwaeke emezi

the darkest part of the forest by holly black

elatsoe by darcie little badger

i was born for this by alice oseman

loveless by alice oseman

i hate everyone but you by gaby dunn and allison raskin

you know me well by nina lacour and david levithan

the black flamingo by dean atta

spinning by tillie walden

dreadnought by april daniels

a lesson in vengeance by victoria lee

all the bad apples by moira fowley-doyle

clap when you land by elizabeth acevedo

summer bird blue by akemi dawn bowman

the miseducation of cameron post by emily m. danforth

we are okay by nina lacour

radio silence by alice oseman

we used to be friends by amy spalding

a neon darkness by lauren shippen

i hope you get this message by farah naz rishi

are you listening? by tillie walden

alone in space by tillie walden

all out edited by saundra mitchell

out now edited by saundra mitchell

out there edited by saundra mitchell

[titleknown]

So, while we're all trying to fight one of the other terrible "think of the children" bills trying to ram its way through Congress, KOSA, we should also be talking about The EARN IT Act.

Long story short, it's basically yet another surveilance bill using a "protect the children" bill, as a hideous meat-suit, putting restrictions on sites that'll make them even more vicious towards NSFW content, creating a climate where using a VPN might be a crime, and they'll be creating a federal committee to decide how best to spy on us!

Long story long, well, the Linktree is right here.

Beyond the stuff in the Linktree, I urge you to directly contact your congresspeoples and tell them to kill this bill, especially if they're on the Judiciary Committee, which is currently marking up this bill.

The members of the committee are:

Dick Durbin, Illinois, Chairman

Dianne Feinstein, California

Sheldon Whitehouse, Rhode Island

Amy Klobuchar, Minnesota

Chris Coons, Delaware

Richard Blumenthal, Connecticut

Mazie Hirono, Hawaii

Cory Booker, New Jersey

Alex Padilla, California

Jon Ossoff, Georgia

Peter Welch, Vermont

Lindsey Graham, South Carolina, Ranking Member (Ugh)

Chuck Grassley, Iowa

John Cornyn, Texas

Mike Lee, Utah

Ted Cruz, Texas (Double-ugh)

Josh Hawley, Missouri

Tom Cotton, Arkansas

John Kennedy, Louisiana

Thom Tillis, North Carolina

Marsha Blackburn, Tennessee (she cosponsored the bill, so probably not)

So yeah, do what you can, even if it's just boosting this terrible, terrible danger we need to thwart.

And, I will add, as with my previous KOSA poster, this poster is officially, for the sake of spreading it, under a CC0 license.

Feel free to spread it, remix it, add links to the bottom, edit it to be about the other bad internet bills they’re pushing, use it as a meme format, do what you will but for gods’ sake get the word out!

...And yes, for the record I was thinking of the Judas Priest song when I came up with the tagline for this one.

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - June 20, 2023

🐕 - Meet Sheep Farm's Newest Employee: Collie Hired After Ejection from Car!

1. Border Collie ejected from car during Sunday crash found on sheep farm, herding sheep

Tilly, the 2-year-old Border Collie who was ejected from a car Sunday during a crash, has been found. He was found on a sheep farm, where he had apparently taken up the role of sheep herder. 

According to Tilly's owner, he has lost some weight since Sunday's crash and is now drinking lots of water but is otherwise healthy.

2. After 17-Year Absence, White Rhinos Return to the Democratic Republic of the Congo

The Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) recently welcomed the reintroduction of 16 southern white rhinoceroses to Garamba National Park, according to officials. The last wild northern white rhino was poached there in 2006.

The white rhinos were transported to Garamba, which lies in the northeastern part of the country, from a South African private reserve. In the late 19th century, the southern white rhino subspecies was believed to be extinct due to poaching until a population of fewer than 100 was discovered in South Africa in 1895, according to WWF.

3. UK to wipe women’s historic convictions for homosexuality

Women with convictions for some same-sex activity in the United Kingdom can apply for a pardon for the first time, the Home Office has announced.

The Home Office is widening its scheme to wipe historic convictions for homosexual activity more than a decade after the government allowed applications for same-sex activity offences to be disregarded.

It means anyone can apply for a pardon if they have been convicted or cautioned for any same-sex activity offences that have been repealed or abolished.

4. Study shows human tendency to help others is universal

A new study on the human capacity for cooperation suggests that, deep down, people of diverse cultures are more similar than you might expect. The study, published in Scientific Reports, shows that from the towns of England, Italy, Poland, and Russia to the villages of rural Ecuador, Ghana, Laos, and Aboriginal Australia, at the micro scale of our daily interaction, people everywhere tend to help others when needed.

5. In a First, Wind and Solar Generated More Power Than Coal in U.S.

Wind and solar generated more electricity than coal through May, an E&E News review of federal data shows, marking the first time renewables have outpaced the former king of American power over a five-month period.

The milestone illustrates the ongoing transformation of the U.S. power sector as the nation races to install cleaner forms of energy to reduce greenhouse gas emissions from fossil fuels.

6. Iceland becomes latest country to ban conversion therapy

Lawmakers in Iceland on June 9 approved a bill that will ban so-called conversion therapy in the country.

Media reports note 53 members of the Icelandic Parliament voted for the measure, while three MPs abstained. Hanna Katrín Friðriksson, an MP who is a member of the Liberal Reform Party, introduced the bill.

7. The temple feeding 100,000 people a day

Amritsar, the north Indian city known for its Golden Temple and delicious cuisine, is also renowned for its spirit of generosity and selfless service. The city, founded by a Sikh guru, embodies the Sikh tradition of seva, performing voluntary acts of service without expecting anything in return.

This spirit of giving extends beyond the temple walls, as the Sikh community has shown immense compassion during crises, such as delivering oxygen cylinders during the COVID-19 pandemic. At the heart of Amritsar's generosity is the Golden Temple's langar, the world's largest free communal kitchen, serving 100,000 people daily without discrimination. Despite a history marred by tragic events, Amritsar continues to radiate kindness, love, and generosity.

----

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

BUY ME A COFFEE ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog.

[queer-media-tourney]

Here are all 64 round 1 polls:

Rent vs Orphan Black

Heartstopper vs Orange is the New Black

Carol (2015) vs Bugsnax

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern vs Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Fienburg

Red, White and Royal Blue vs This is how you lose the time war by Amar el-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

Our Flag means Death vs Always human by Ari North

The last of us two vs On a Sunbeam by Tillie Walden

Heartbreak High vs Shameless

Undertale vs The Handmaiden

Young Royals vs Revolutionary Girl Utena

Sens8 vs Carry on by Rainbow Rowell

Bee and puppycat vs The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Yuri on Ice vs Ranma ½

Q-force vs Feel Good

Torchwood vs The interview with a Vampire (2022)

Homestuck vs Good Omens

Some like it hot vs Killing Eve

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off vs Bound (1996)

It's a sin vs Magnus Chase by Rick Riordan

Doctor Who vs Portrait of a young lady on fire

Steven Universe vs Saltburn

Xena Warrior Princess vs Cyberpunk 2077

Welcome to Nightvale vs Schitt's creek

Night in the woods vs A league Of their own

Lisa Frankenstein vs The boys in the band (1970)

Black Sails vs Owl House

Hannibal vs The Traitor Baru Cormorant

Bottoms vs The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir

The picture of Dorian Grey vs Adventure time

The Sandman (comic) vs Supernatural

Maurice (1987) vs Hazbin Hotel

Nimona vs Love Simon

Epithet Erased vs What we do in the shadows

Buffy the Vampire Slayer vs The Other Two

One Day at a time (2017) vs Falsettos

She-ra and the princesses of power vs Dykes to Watch Out for

Celluloid Closet vs Harley Quinn

But I'm a cheerleader vs Vida

Angels In America vs Glee

Hooky by Míriam Bonastre Tur vs They both die in the end by Adam Silvera

Will and Grace vs Paris is Burning

Sanders Sides vs The Magnus Archives

The L word vs Goncharov

Queer as Folk vs Paper Girls

Boys don't cry vs Dracula

All of us strangers vs Yellow jackets

The Song of Achilles vs D.E.B.S

Brokeback Mountain vs Dead end: paranormal park

Carmilla vs Pride (2014)

The Bifrost Incident vs Pink Flamingos

Call me by your name vs Hedwig and the Angry Inch

Grishaverse vs Roswell New Mexico

Riverdale vs We Know the Devil

Stardew Valley vs Pose

Disco Elysium vs Different For girls

Banana fish vs my own private Idaho

Celeste vs Tales of the City, by Armistead Maupin

Everything Everywhere all at once vs Outer Wilds

To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything! Julie Newmar vs Victor/Victoria

Moonlight vs Stranger things

The birdcage vs Midnight Cowboy

The Watermelon Woman vs The Ritz

The haunting of Bly Manor vs Epic of Gilgamesh

Fun Home by Alison Bechdel vs How to survive a plague

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Every editorial board must do the same. Bravo, Charlotte Observer. This is how it’s done.

+

THE PARTY TOLD YOU TO REJECT THE EVIDENCE OF YOUR EYES AND EARS. IT WAS THEIR FINAL, MOST ESSENTIAL COMMAND.

TCinLA

Oct 07, 2024

Brian Beutler described this perfectly this morning:

When Donald Trump started telling conspicuous lies about the federal response to Hurricane Helene, all of MAGA understood the assignment.

His supporters understood they should spread rumors or fabricate anecdotes consistent with Trump’s claims. They should portray their own confusion as government malice or incompetence. They should claim to have witnessed FEMA abandoning Republican-heavy regions and illegal immigrants walking away with relief money first hand. They should even use artificial intelligence technology to fabricate images that reinforce these lies.

Elon Musk and Trump’s other ultra-wealthy supporters understood it as their solemn duty to draw as much attention to these lies as possible.

Its also a trial run for the chaos they intend to sow through the election.

David Simon expressed disgust on behalf of many: “For the chance to gain some political advantage, the Republican nominee for U.S. president is willing to lie, and in doing so, actually impair the ongoing efforts to help the Americans made vulnerable by this hurricane. That level of sociopathy simply astonishes.”

(The old astonishing has been astonishingly surpassed by the new astonishing.)

From The Hill today:

SPEAKER JOHNSON CALLS FEDERAL RESPONSE TO HELENE ‘A MASSIVE FAILURE’

Speaker Mike Johnson (R-La.) called the federal response to Hurricane Helene a “massive failure” and pointed to the hundreds of people still missing.

“At the federal level, this has been a massive failure. And you can just ask the people there on the ground. I have been there. I was in Georgia. I was in Florida, where Hurricane Helene made landfall, there on the coast. And then we’ll be going to the hardest hit parts of North Carolina on Wednesday of this week,” Johnson told Shannon Bream on “Fox News Sunday.”

Johnson said the federal government had advance notice of the hurricane and should have been better equipped to respond.

“When you talk to the people who are directly affected, they will tell you this has been an abject failure. FEMA has lost sight of its core mission, I think, in so many cases, and the administration has not shown that they were prepared for this, this eventuality, and this terrible disaster.

“They had more than a week’s notice of this, and yet we still have people who have not been served and even rescued,” Johnson added. “In North Carolina, it is a heartbreaking, tragic and infuriating situation to have the federal government fail, as they have well.”

The remarks come as Republicans have sharpened their attacks on the federal response to Hurricane Helene, just one month ahead of Election Day.

The federal government and other local and federal officials have fought back against claims that the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) is inept.

Sen. Thom Tillis (R-N.C.) said recently that he was impressed with the federal response, noting North Carolina’s impact was not expected to be as severe as it was.

“For anybody who thinks that any level of government, anybody here, could have been prepared precisely for what we’re dealing with here, clearly are clueless,” Tillis said. “But right now, I’m out here to say that we’re doing a good job.”

The federal government has also sought to dispel rumors about the lack of federal funding available to residents affected by the national disaster.

FEMA has set up a designated “rumor response page” to fight misinformation and inform residents of available funding.

White House spokesperson Andrew Bates responded to Johnson’s criticism by pointing to “a wide range of leaders in both parties and from every affected state” who “have praised the bipartisan response to Hurricane Helene.”

Bates pointed to Tillis’s remarks, as well as to comments made by other GOP officials, including South Carolina Gov. Henry McMaster, who called the federal response “superb,” and Georgia Gov. Brian Kemp (R), who said he “appreciated” Biden’s offer to “call him directly” if the governor needed further assistance.

Bates also quoted Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.), who said, “This is an incredible experience for me. So, to President Biden, thank you for coming. Thank you for paying attention to our needs. We have had a good working relationship between the federal government.”

[davi-doo]

Zevlor's Helmite Oath

Zevlor was a Hellrider from Elturel and a paladin of Helm - the god of guardians - as you may already knew from the description of his "Hellrider's Pride" gaunlets. As someone who is not familiar with DnD lore, I did some digging to gain insight about the nature of Zevlor's oath and the circumstance around his oathbreaking. Might as well share what I found :)

Helm is a lawful neutral deity, whose principle can be seen as cold and rigid as he favors one's sense of duty and commitment as a protector, guardian and defender above all else. The dogma of Helm's faithfuls can be sum up as follows:

Guard perfectly, attentively, and with forethought; be ever vigilant. Guard what you are ordered to guard, including that on which your charge depends.

CREED OF THE HELMITE FAITH.

I was not surprised to learn Elturel was home to the strongest Helmite Church in the North. With the famous Hellrider as the citywatch and its strict rulings, Elturel is known to be the most efficient, secured and well-policed city in the region. It's natural for Hellrider to be among Helm's faithful, and I can imagine their paladin's oath is to safe-guard the city and its citizen to their last breath.

I'm not sure in BG3 timeline if the tieflings were forcefully evicted from Elturel, or if they left on their own accord to avoid violence and bigotry against their kind. But either case, Zevlor most likely broke his oath for simply leaving Elturel to lead and protect the tiefling refugees.

In principal, the church of Helm is to welcome whomever come seek their protection, even criminals. However, it's also their duty to turn them in to law enforcement if required, and see their trial to proceed fairly. That means, when the tieflings were deemed as a dangerous minority in the eyes of Elturian, Zevlor and fellow Hellrider must abide to the laws determined for them, or resist and face the repercussion:

All true warriors of Elturel were most likely Hellriders. Those who resigned were stripped of their gear, exiled from the city, and named a heretic in the eyes of Helm for abandoning their post.

Taken that Zevlor still had his gaunlets and his sword, I'm convinced he helped the refugee leave the city in secret. He sentimentally kept the gauntlet out of all the parts from his Hellrider plated armour, because you guess what? A silver gauntlet with eye is Helm's holy symbol. This proved he still held onto the Helmite failth, despite being stripped of the God's divine grace for his moral decision. He owned his choice by leaving the rest behind along with his title, but still took it upon himself to be the guardian of his people. That's why when you came along and protected them from the goblin, which allowed them to travel to Baldur's Gate, the Hellrider's Pride became yours. As for Zevlor, it seems to me he was ready to truly rest, which shows in his conversation with Tilly, too.

In Act 2, we see Zevlor seeking to restore his oath and fell victim to the Absolute; this is not the sign of him wanting to taste the glory again, but simply because the journey through Shadowcurse land has proven to be overwhelmingly dangerous. Zevlor might have viewed himself as a liability, not only due of his old age, but also his lack of dark vision despite being a tiefling. I believe whatever the watchful Helm bestowed on paladin Zevlor back in the day must have compensated nicely for his lacks. And ironically, with the innate darkvision that allows for better guard, the tiefling Hellrider were supposed to be valuable members in their unit. Until Elturian decided those with infernal heritage are somehow a threat to their hypervigilant society.

[twola]

Seven Deadly Sins - I

PAIRING: low to mid honor Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Summary: Because if one thing is true, it is that Arthur Morgan is a sinner. Pure, organic, non-GMO smut. A continuing series.

Lust: an intense sexual desire or appetite, uncontrolled or illicit sexual desire or appetite; lecherousness, a passionate or overmastering desire or craving.

➵ AO3 Link ➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ Next

That is the absolute last time he ever listens to some hare-brained plan dreamed up by Sean MacGuire. Abandoned cabin, he said, not a soul around, he went on. He just failed to mention that this cabin near Eris Field was a goddamn Lemoyne Raiders safe house. Not nearly worth the take, and now Arthur needed more shotgun shells. He made sure Sean caught hell before sending the boy off in the other direction. He cuffed him over the head for good measure.

Arthur swung around to the south of Rhodes to keep away from camp for a while, it was only a matter of time until those inbred hicks realized it was another gang encroaching on their territory. 

He spurred his horse into a gallop as the sun set over the west, and a full moon rose over the hill country of Scarlett Meadows. 

Arthur hits the shores of Flat Iron Lake just north of Braithwaite Manor.

He pats his mare’s head as she slows to a walk, breathing heavily, coat worked into a lathing sweat. “You’re alright, girl.”

Trailing along the shoreline, in the distance, he can see the faint lantern lights from the gang’s camp at Clemens Point. He stops the horse, allowing her to step down to the water and take a much-needed drink. Swinging off the saddle, he pops his shoulder, still feeling a twinge of pain from his ‘stay’ with the O’Driscolls weeks ago.

A sound reaches his ears, rustling of leaves, movement of water. 

He ties up his horse against a tree, unholstering his revolver as he sneaks closer to the small cove that the shoreline creates. He takes cover behind a wide tree trunk, slowly clicking the safety off his revolver.

He peers on the other side of the tree at the rocky shoreline.

It is not some bounty hunter, or robber, or frankly any kind of threat.

It is you.

You’re partially obscured by the outcropping of rock, but there is more than enough moonlight to trace the sinuous curves of your body.

You’re completely bare, nude as the day you were born, washing yourself in the waters of Flat Iron Lake.

He should be blushing and turning away, leaving you privacy while he reaches camp from another direction. But as the moonlight dances on your dewy curves, Arthur is guided by another notion.

He did always say that he wasn’t a good man.

Arthur holsters his gun, trying to be as quiet as possible. He watches you with the eyes of a predator, a hungry wolf with a doe in its sights. It hasn’t been since his untried youth that he’s so governed by an urge like this, being driven by pulsing blood and hotheadedness and want.

You’re wringing out your long hair over your shoulder, the expanse of your back and the curve of your spine above your hips visible above the water.

He swallows, hidden by foliage, behind the tree trunk overlooking the cove where you bathe.

Arthur can’t say he’s ever looked at you like this, thrumming with the singular need to sink his cock into your body. You’ve been around a few years, a dependable thief, a decent shot, he looked at you no differently than he looked at Karen, Tilly, or Mary Beth. But now, seeing you like this, he’s driven by a need that pounds in his blood. He knows he shouldn’t be here, dirty old man , but by some kind of force far stronger than shame, he is rooted to the spot, breathing in a deep breath through his nose.

He uncomfortably shifts, his hand over his gun belt that’s slung across his hips, tighter now against his hardening cock. He pushes at it awkwardly, trying to find some damned relief. 

You turn, humming to yourself while taking a step closer to the shore. More of your skin becomes visible to him as you rise from the water like some storybook nymph.

He swallows, tracing the rivulets of water down your frame, down over your pebbled nipples and the swell of your breasts, your soft belly, sliding down your skin into the thatch of dark hair at the apex of your thighs.

Arthur liked to think of himself as being above that. Not so completely enraptured by the female form that he could think of little else.

But right now? His stiffening cock pressing against his pants is his priority. With guidance that he knows could only come from thinking with his cock, he steps out of his hiding spot and down to the shoreline.

Leaves rustle on the ground.

You catch his gaze. Surprised, fearful, like a skittish doe in the jaws of that hungry wolf. Stunned into silence, into stillness. 

Water continues to drip down your body. Nothing is hidden from his eyes. 

Were he not but a trickle of that fresh lake water, trailing slowly down your skin, down your breasts, your soft belly, collecting at the cradle of your hips. Weaving its way through the hair there. 

Drip, drip, dripping to the hidden, dewy skin of your cunt.

-

You swallow. Your skin breaks out into gooseflesh as you shiver under the cold weight of his stare. You should scream, you should run, you should hide yourself from him.

Should, should, should. All of these things you should do.

But the way he is looking at you. The way he is staring. The shadow across his face from the brim of that old leather hat. The telltale sign of heavy breathing, his chest rising and falling. You can see his fist clenching at his side.

Arthur has always been distant. You had heard talk of a woman he had been involved with years ago, some high society girl that broke his heart. Not that you were particularly eyeing anyone in the gang for any self-gratifying reason - it was less complicated that way.

But now, now,  he looks at you with a hunger that needs to be slaked. Arthur Morgan. Dutch’s top gun. The enforcer. You’ve seen him break men with his two hands, those two hands that clench at his side as he struggles with some semblance of control.

In this moment, you imagine those hands on you.

Something, perhaps the traitorous clenching of your cunt around nothing when you look at him, goads you into speaking up.

“Want to join me, Arthur?”

-

Your voice is soft, breathy, when it reaches his ear. He continues to stare, gnawing at his lower lip for moments that seem like an eternity.

His cock is so hard it’s almost painful, straining against the fabric of his jeans. A cool breeze rushes in from the lake and you shiver, the goose flesh that springs up on your skin makes him itch to touch you. Even feet away, he can see your nipples darken and harden.

“Are you coming?” You whisper at him, your hand slowly raising toward his still form. 

The double entendre is not lost on him. 

Arthur hasn’t been one to be guided by his cock, certainly not recently. Not in years. He’s not one to seek out whores in far-flung cattle towns the gang rolls through like a prairie wind. But Christ , if you aren’t here, hand outstretched, beckoning him to come to you.

His gun belt lands on the ground with a clatter. Arthur is kicking his boots off while shrugging his suspenders down his arms, fevered in his movements. His satchel joins his belt on the ground. He refuses to look away from your figure, refuses to give up a single moment of the moon shining down on the expanse of your skin.

Arthur works at the buttons of his work shirt, one by one, as his breathing becomes heavier. He nearly rips his shirt off, it falls to the ground over his discarded gun belt. The Lemoyne heat and humidity are stifling, and he has forgone a union suit underneath his clothing.

You suck in a breath, and he sees a glint of hunger in your eyes, beginning to match what he’s sure is emanating from his own. 

His hands glide to the buttons of his pants, pressing them between the fabric eyes, his cock insistent against his fly. 

One, two, three.

-

You stare at him, your gaze darting downward from his hungry eyes to his broad chest, covered in wiry hair. His arms, muscled and sculpted and brawny. The way his waist slightly tapers inward down to his hips. He is hewn from decades of intensive labor, the chase of violence, living on the lam. 

The trail of dark hair from his navel that disappears under his pants becomes more and more visible to your gaze at each button he undoes. His fly hangs open for a moment, before he hooks both of his hands at the sides of his pants and slides them down, baring himself to you the way you are to him. He tosses his pants into the pile of clothing on the shore.

He steps into the water, unafraid, confident, driven. Wading toward you, the water creeping up with each step, up his calves, past his knees, up his thighs to where his engorged cock hangs heavy. 

Arthur reaches you, his hungry hands on your body as your breath hitches, shivering as you close your eyes. A thumb brushes over one of your nipples. Fingers dance across the soft skin of your inner thigh, moving closer to the apex, and you widen your stance unconsciously, as your hands find their way to his chest, palms spread wide over the planes of his solid pectorals. 

Your eyes snap open as your breath quickens, Arthur drags the knuckle of his pointer finger between your folds. You gasp, and in response his mouth hangs open, his other hand leaving your breast to dart down to his cock, stroking it slowly as he rubs at your core.

“A-Arthur,” you stutter, one of your hands moving to his forearm, clenching it tightly as he presses against you. 

“ Jesus , woman.” He slips a finger inside you and you keen, head thrown back and gasping to the nighttime sky. Arthur groans in response, his other hand moving from his cock to grasp roughly at the back of your neck, pulling you forward, nearly stumbling into him, and captures your lips with his own, smothering your high-pitched wail with his mouth.

The hard, hot line of him is pressed against your hip, insistent, and as you quickly get used to his ministrations in your cunt, you reach between your bodies to ghost your palm over his cock, taking the place of his hand that is winding through the hair at the nape of your neck.

It’s his turn to groan, and you feel the vibrations of the low register of his voice down your spine, he juts his hips against you. He pulls away, gasping, pupils blown. His hand moves slowly back from your neck to cup your jaw, the rough skin of his thumb tracing your lips.

You open your lips and take his thumb in your mouth, sucking gently. His eyes widen, mouth twitching for a moment. You feel him push a second finger into your cunt and you burn , your teeth clenching down on his thumb gently as you suck.

You know, you know , that there is no going back from here, that you’re about to tread on dangerous ground, but from the way your vision narrows to the pulsing of your blood underneath your skin, you don’t care.

-

Arthur stares down at you, his thumb in your mouth, fingers in your cunt. One of your hands lazily strokes at his cock, your thumb swiping over its head every few strokes.

He draws his hand from your mouth and leans back in to take your lips against his again. His tongue presses against yours. You’re completely pliant against him.

“Gonna fuck y’ now.” He pants into your mouth, taking his hands from their places and quickly grabbing the undersides of your thighs, hoisting you from the water as your hands find his shoulders. Your legs immediately wrap around his hips.

Your lips remain locked on his as he wades back toward the shoreline, and once he’s out of the water, he’s sinking to his knees, bending over to lay you out on the ground. 

Your hands card through his honeyed locks, as he presses his lips to yours again. He settles in between your hips, his cock pressing against your thigh.

You moan into his mouth, and one of your hands reaches between the two of you to grasp him, guiding him in between your thighs.

He pushes inside. 

It’s slow, as much as he wants to fuck you until you scream, he can get to that later. Inch by torturous inch, he presses forward, until the bones of both of your hips touch, and he is buried deep within you.

Christ, you’re just as tight, wet, and warm as he’d thought you’d be.

He grunts, rolling his hips back to withdraw, then pushing forward again, swallowing your moan as his lips remain on yours.

There he is, fucking you on the sandy shoreline of Flat Iron Lake, the both of you naked as the day you were born, kissed by moonlight. He pulls away from your lips, and you both breathe fast, panting breaths.

“ God -” you croon, your blunt nails digging into his back.

He chuckles lowly, “Not quite.”

Arthur loops one of your legs over his shoulder, and your babbling becomes incoherent as he widens the yaw of your legs, and you struggle to keep your eyes open.

He’s careening toward completion, that feeling deep in his gut where he knows he’s about to have this burning energy that’s overtaking him pulled out through his cock.

You’re shamelessly moaning beneath him, gasping syllables of his name. God, hopefully, you ain’t so loud the camp hears you, cause there would be absolutely no hiding what he’s doing to you.

“I’m, ooh- god…” you spit out, voice breathy as you begin to arch underneath him, your cunt embarrassingly wet, the squelching of his thrusts becoming louder as you cry out, clenching around his cock, scratching his back near painfully. Arthur continues to fuck you through your release, chasing his own as his breathing tumbles into panting as he slams his hips into your own. He lets your leg down from his shoulder.

Arthur pulls out with not a moment to spare, the hot spatter of his release against your inner thigh as your back continues to arch against him. He groans, his forehead against yours, out of breath, barely holding himself up as his forearms bracket either side of your head.

You sigh, satiated, breathy, slowly coming down from your high, “Mister Morgan.”

“At your service, ma’am.” He places his head in the hollow of your shoulder, nipping slightly at your neck before he rolls off of you. 

You’re both covered in sandy mud, streaks of the red clay that helps give Scarlett Meadows its name coating your skin.

“Looks like I need another bath. I was almost done, ‘fore you interrupted me.” You sit up, wiping at a smudge of mud on your hip bone.

“Mm, could help ya there, if y’ need it.”

You roll your eyes at him, and he reaches over to pinch at your hip, causing you to giggle and scoot further away from him.

“Arthur. Knock it off or we ain’t ever gonna get clean.” You scold but cannot keep the smile from your face. You push yourself up to stand, moving back toward the water, stepping in gingerly, wading out until you can sink down so the water covers your shoulders.

Arthur reclines back, propped up on his elbow, watching you pick leaves and twigs from your long hair. 

You turn around, catching his eye. “You coming in?”

Arthur snorts, looking down, but cannot keep the grin from his face. He pushes himself up from the ground, standing up and wading into the water.

“Y’know, Mister, you ain’t half bad.”

“You ain’t half bad yourself, Miss.”

He circles you, your hair fanned out in the water. You eye him with a glint of mischief.

“I wouldn’t mind if we did that from time to time.”

“Oh? Would you now….” He reaches toward you, and you push a small wave of water at him in response.

“Mhm. But not now. You’ve got mud on your face.”

[madeintheniamh]

broken ankle, karma rules

stmf one shot #9.

a/n: long time no see! i missed writing for you all so much

warnings: fluff & surgery

song: little freak- harry styles

“And next on the beam, please give a round of applause for Matilda Styles!”

Harry was stood next to you, cheering your eldest daughter on so loudly that it was starting to give you a headache. Nothing had beaten the look on Tilly’s face when she was told by her head coach that she had qualified for nationals, and you had followed her all the way up north to the arena where the competition was due to take place. You felt nervous just watching her, wondering how your 10-year-old daughter could stomach so many people staring at her, judging her every move. But then again, that was what her Dad did most nights whilst he was on tour. The Styles were performers, and loved having all eyes pointed in their direction, and Tilly was no exception to this rule.

You looked down, to see Lottie sucking on her thumb, her chewed up bunny hanging by the ear in her other fist. Harry could tell she was starting to doze off, having woken up at 5am for the car journey up here. He reached down before scooping her up in his arms and placing her on his shoulders, pointing in Tilly’s direction.

“Look at your big sister over there, sweet pea! Are you going to give her a cheer, I bet she can hear you,”

“Good luck, Tilly!” she shouted, her little voice echoing across the hall. Tilly, now stood up on top of a wooden beam, turned around to wave in her direction, smiling widely in her black and blue glittery long-sleeved leotard, emblazoned with jewels, a ribbon perched upon the tight bun you had tied her hair into. The routine started, and Harry gawked as she marched across the narrow piece of wood, flipping upside down and in all different directions, landing perfectly on her feet each time.

“That’s my girl!” he bellowed, reaching over the seats in front to get a closer look at her. The routine was coming to the finale, and this was the part she needed to stick- if the landing went just as well as the rest of it, she would be coming out with a very high score.

You watched her taking a deep breath, inhaling the stale, sweaty air of the arena, before beginning to run towards the end of the beam, her arms reaching out in front of her.

“Go on, Styles!” The girls in her team watching from the side-lines chanted, as her dainty hands made contact with the beam, before she flipped up and backwards, back down onto her feet again, and backwards, her knees tucked into her chest, getting closer to the floor, closer and closer before-

The snap was so loud, that you felt it echo across the entire arena. You felt as though things were going in slow motion, and you were helpless, watching all the way from the viewing platform, your daughter’s screams shrilling through your ears.

“Oh my god!” Harry yelled, moving Lottie from off of his shoulders and resting her on his hip.

She was laid out on the mat just off of the beam, one hand on her forehead, the other reaching down trying to grab her ankle. You rushed down the stairs, Harry’s free hand intertwined in yours, and pushed your way through the crowd that had congregated near her.

“Let them through, those are her parents!” the head coach screamed, putting her hands out to part the sea of people gawking over Tilly. Harry placed Lottie back on the ground before you both kneeled over next to her.

“Mummy, Daddy, I’m scared,” A stream of tears rolled down her face. “It hurts, it really hurts,”

Harry brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear, before wiping the tears from her cheek with the back of his hand.

“I know baby,” you sighed, locking eyes with Harry. “But you’re going to be alright,”

“Can someone get some ice? And a blanket, she’s really cold,” Harry shouted across the floor, before one of the girls came running back with them.

“Thank you sweet,” he smiled at the teenage girl wearing a leotard and track jacket, before wrapping the blanket around Tilly’s shoulders.

She sat up suddenly, and her green eyes widened in shock at the state of her foot.

“Oh no,” she cried, “I feel sick,”

Harry pressed the ice pack over her ankle before covering it up with the blanket. The sight of her mangled, twisted ankle, bleeding with a bone sticking out of it, was enough to make you and him feel queasy.

“You don’t need to see it, baby,” he whispered, rubbing her shoulders to try and warm her up. “Daddy’s going to lift you up now, okay? And we’re going to take you to the hospital, where they can fix it,”

She hissed as he hooked his arm under her knee to try and lift her.

“Don’t touch it!” she screamed, reaching out to throw his arm off of her. His hands flew up in apology.

“I’m tyring not to, Til,” He kissed her forehead, his voice beginning to break. “But I need to lift you up so I can get you to the car, okay?”

She sighed before wrapping her hands around his neck and he picked her up from the mat, cradling her in his arms like he used to when she was tiny.

“Mummy, is Tilly going to be okay?” Lottie whispered sweetly, her tiny hand now in yours.

“Yeah baby, you don’t need to worry,” you sighed, your heart breaking at the panic in her little voice. “We’re going to go to the hospital where the doctors can help her, okay?”

You watched Harry running out to the car as you followed closely behind him, as he sat in the back with Tilly for the entire car journey to the hospital.

---

“It’s a nasty break, that’s for sure,” The radiologist explained, as you noticed Harry’s face turning a shade of green as he looked at the X-Rays held out in front of him. It showed her bone as broken clean in half, bits managing to peek through her skin. “We will have to put her to sleep, and then put some pins in to hold it back in place,”

“Oh my,” Harry whimpered. “Surgery! But she’s so little,”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, Mr Styles. But this is the best way of fixing it,”

He sighed, frantically running a hand through his hair.

“One of the nurses is bandaging it up temporarily whilst we speak, so she’s comfortable for now. Someone should be up in an hour or so to take her up to theatre,”

You both thanked him and Harry shook his hand before he left.

“I’ll tell her, you don’t have to,” you offered, as he sighed, now tapping his foot repeatedly on the floor.

“It’s making me feel sick thinking about it, her up on the table, and she’s so, so little, what if she doesn’t wake up, and-”

“Harry,” you warned him. “I feel the exact same as you, but if she sees how worried you are, it’s going to make her panic, and that’s not good for her right now,”

“I know, I know,” he said quickly. “I just wish it was me instead of her,”

You took his hand in yours, rubbing circles around his knuckles, before opening the door, your woozy daughter now sat up in the bed with a dazed expression on her face.

“My gorgeous girl,” Harry tried to smile, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. He kissed her forehead.  “Are you feeling any better?”

She yawned slightly. “I’m tired, Daddy,”

You were relieved that painkillers coming through the IV on her arm were working. You knew it was bad when she hadn’t flinched as the nurse put the needle into her hand, because Tilly was normally never keen on needles.

“You sleep then, babygirl,” He said, now sitting on the end of the bed facing her, tucking in the blankets around her. Within under a minute, she was already fast asleep.

You and Harry had decided that it would be better to not tell her, because you knew she wouldn’t have slept, and also because you knew it would have hurt him too much to see her reaction. Harry had spent that entire hour pacing around the room, his green eyes darting back and forth between his daughter asleep in bed and the clock in the corner of the room.

He almost jumped when he heard the knock on the door, which also startled Tilly awake, as she bolted upright in bed.

“Hi darling, we’re going to take you upstairs now, okay?”

“Why,” Tilly muttered, her voice tainted with grogginess. “I want to stay here,”

“You’re going to have a nice sleep whilst we fix your ankle, okay? And then you’ll wake up and it won’t be hurting anymore,”

 Tilly looked over at her dad, whose gaze was focused on a pot of flowers on the bedside table to avoid meeting her eyes, because he knew that if he looked at her, he would burst into tears.

“I thought… I thought we were going home,” she blubbered. “I thought we were going to get Lottie from Nanny Anne’s,”

“Nanny is going to come and see you later, okay?” you whispered, trying to keep your tone as light as possible. “But they need to fix your ankle first,”

She reached up to grab Harry’s tattooed arm, watery tears now beginning to stream down her face.

“You need to pick either Mummy or Daddy to take with you when we put you to sleep, darling,” the nurse smiled. “I’m sorry it can’t be both,”

Harry didn’t expect her answer to be him.

---

“I’m sorry baby, I know it’s horrible,” Harry sighed, stroking the back of her free hand as he watched a vial of liquid being squirted into the cannula on the other. Her hands were so tiny, that they had barely been able to get it in in the first place, and Harry had felt sick watching her cry as they struggled to find her vein.

“Am I going to wake up, Daddy?” Tilly whispered, her green eyes wide as she stared up in him. He felt another knot forming in his stomach, and could feel the sick beginning to travel up his throat.

“Of course you are, sweetheart,” He traced his fingertips across her pale cheeks. “The doctors are going to take very good care of you, you don’t need to worry,” He tried to make himself sound as certain as possible, but deep down he was more scared than she was. If he could have been lying on that bed instead of her at that moment, he would have been.

Her eyes began to flutter closed, as she tried to stare back up at him, fighting to keep them open.

“I love y-” She tried to say, but she was asleep before she could finish the sentence.

You saw him rush back out through the doors, as he collapsed down into your arms, no longer able to hold back his tears.

You didn’t need to say anything. You just held him there as the minutes slowly ticked by, listening to his quiet sobs as you felt your t-shirt beginning to become damp, running your hands through his soft brown hair.

---

“Mr and Mrs Styles,”

Harry immediately jumped up at those words.

“Is she okay?” He gasped, his voice trembling slightly.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” The nurse chuckled to herself, taking in the shocked look on Harry’s face. “She’s still coming round, so she’s a bit woozy, but she’s fine,”

“Thank god,” Harry muttered as he followed her back down the long, whitewashed hallway and into a small room where Tilly was tilted upright in a hospital bed, snuggled under crisp white sheets.

He moved a chair over and sat down beside her, running his thumb over her cheek before planting a kiss to her forehead. Her lips turned upwards into a smile, despite still having her eyes closed.

“Hi baby, did you have a nice dream?” Harry whispered, placing his hand over hers, grimacing slightly at the cannula in the back of it, which looked harsh and sterile imbedded in her soft pale skin. She giggled slightly, before slowly opening her eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering up at him.

“Mmmhmm,” she muttered, her eyes dropping closed again. “M’still tired, though,”

“You sleep then baby, hmm?” He breathed. “It’s okay. Daddy can wait. I’ll always wait for you,”

-----

poor tilly! i'm sure harry will be the best daddy and make sure she is well looked after for the next few weeks :/

the link to my other dadrry one shots if you enjoyed this one:

[notsofriendlyfriendlyreminder]

OK SO IMAGINE THIS.

Mary's father is a drunk. An awful drunk. Jamie is not enough to hold Mary home. Arthur, during their many fights, tells her "Well you always can run with us."

And in this universe she does.

And she changes, she hardens, she learns how to shoot a gun and how to properlylisten to Grimshaw. She drinks with Karen, plays dominoes with Tilly and reads with Mary-Beth.

She helps Sadie to get back on her feet.

She understands Molly.

Abigail cries on her shoulder when John leaves.

She and Arthur stay together and maybe, in the end, the love they share is stronger than everything that held Arthur with the gang.

Maybe they tail right after John and Abigail. Or maybe they go up north with the Wapiti. Maybe they went to Mexico. Maybe they got so lost no one ever found them again.

But on the other side is Jamie. Jamie, who lost the sight of the good for the world, who was the one to witness his father get drunk again and again, to sell everything that was left of not only his mother but also his sister.

Who left him.

They all left him, by death, by running away, by letting their soul be drowned in alcohol.

And it's not the cult that drags Jamie away, it's his own heart being abandoned, deciding it will never happen again.

How does a young boy survive in this day and age?

By learning how to shoot a gun.

How does young man make money?

By picking up job postings everywhere he can.

And how does a man commit revenge on his sister, who he loves dearly but who run away with a gang?

By becoming a bounty hunter.

[disneytva]

20th Television Animation Brings Animation To San Diego Comic-Con 2024

Animation fans will have a lot to keep them busy and entertained at this year’s Comic-Con. Disney just announced its plans for its Hulu and 20th Television Animation festivities and panels set for the San Diego.

Friday, July 26

Solar Opposites, 2:00-2:45 p.m., Indigo Room. The popular animated series returns to San Diego Comic-Con ahead of a new season packed with new family values, mayhem in the Wall and some all-new Silvercops adventures. Join executive producers Mike McMahan and Josh Bycel, and cast Thomas Middleditch (Terry), Mary Mack (Jesse) and Sean Giambrone (Yumyulack) for an advance screening of a never-before-seen episode, and a discussion of the hilarious and out-of-this-world upcoming fifth season premiering Aug. 12 on Hulu.

The Great North, 3:00- 3:45 p.m., Indigo Room. Embark on an exhilarating journey to Lone Moose at Comic-Con. Catch an exclusive look behind the scenes of this animated comedy series that follows the quirky Tobin family as they navigate life together. Get to know the creative minds behind the series including creators and executive producers Wendy Molyneaux, Lizzie Molyneaux-Logelin, Loren Bouchard and the voices behind the Tobin family including Jenny Slate, Dulcé Sloan, Paul Rust and Aparna Nancherla to gain fascinating insights into the production of the show, its unique setting, and the colorful characters that inhabit the world of the Tobin family.

Bob’s Burgers,  4:00-4:45 p.m., Indigo Room. Join the Belcher family and the creative minds behind Bob’s Burgers for a can’t-miss panel. Creator and executive producer Loren Bouchard, executive producers Nora Smith, Holly Schlesinger and supervising director Bernard Derriman will break news about the upcoming season. The cast including H. Jon Benjamin, John Roberts, Kristen Schaal, Eugene Mirman, Dan Mintz and Larry Murphy will have the audience howling with laughter through exclusive sneak peeks, a lively panel discussion and Q&A.

Saturday, July 27

Futurama, 11:00-11:45 a.m., Ballroom 20. Neither snow nor rain nor cancellations nor pandemics nor Hollywood strikes can keep Futurama from blasting back into existence. Please join Matt Groening, David X. Cohen, Claudia Katz and “Futurama” superstars Billy West, John DiMaggio, Lauren Tom, Phil LaMarr, David Herman and Maurice LaMarche for a live sneak preview of the all-new season premiering July 29 on Hulu. They promise to spill the maximum legal dose of spoilers. Plus, there is the chance to walk away with debatably precious door prizes!

The Simpsons, 12:00-12:45 p.m., Ballroom 20. Show creators give an exclusive spooky sneak preview of “Treehouse of Horror 35” – the scariest 35th Halloween Special ever. Join panelists Matt Groening, Matt Selman, Rob LaZebnik, Tim Bailey, along with special guest moderator Kevin Smith and surprise terrifying guests for original drawings, prizes and more.

American Dad! 1:00-1:45 p.m., Ballroom 20.  Celebrate the enduring success of the show at Comic-Con with hilarity, hijinks and heartfelt moments. Dive into the quirky world of the Smith family and their eccentric friends and foes as this beloved animated series celebrates its ongoing success with stars Wendy Schaal, Scott Grimes, Rachael MacFarlane, Dee Bradley Baker, Jeff Fischer, and executive producers Matt Weitzman, Kara Vallow and Nic Wegener.

Family Guy 2:00-2:45 p.m., Ballroom 20.  It’s time to look back at 25 years of laughter, satire and iconic moments with the long-running show at this must-attend Comic-Con panel. This milestone event will bring together fans, the iconic cast including Alex Borstein, Seth Green, Jennifer Tilly, Gary Cole and Mike Henry, and executive producers Rich Appel, Alec Sulkin, Steve Callaghan and Kara Vallow to honor a quarter-century of hilarity, irreverence and unforgettable moments in Quahog. Whether a long-time fan or new to the Griffin family’s antics, this is the ultimate event to honor one of television’s most beloved and enduring animated series.

[esotericas-sims]

Manon Yvaine de Falstaff, 1789.

"It is the unique gift of the orphan: freedom from the burden of a family legacy. It is also their unique misery. The maintenance of a legacy is a laborious task. The creation of one has been known to drive men mad."

– M.F.

Chapter One

My name is Manon Yvaine de Falstaff. You have not heard of me.

By the time this book is published, I am either dead or as-good-as. This is by design. It is only with the knowledge that I will not live to suffer the consequences of my actions, that I can report them truly and honestly here.

There is a general narrative convention that a story starts at the beginning. I see no reason to break this pattern.

My story begins in France, 1785. I was born in blood and tears and disappointment. My parents were Conrad and Mathilde de Falstaff, Baron and Baronne of ----- (a vanity title, gifted to them by the King as reward for my father's friendship. We had no money, and no land.) My parents despised one another; Conrad, for his wife's inability to bear sons, and Mathilde, for her husband's inability to remain faithful. It was a marriage of equals, in terms of hatred.

They were divorced not long after I was born - Failure to produce a male heir - Four girls was four too many, and Ophelie and I were twins. It was more than my father could tolerate.

I was born last. I took pride, for some years, in being the straw that broke the camel's back. I learned in later years that the divorce was my mother's idea, not my father's. I can not blame her for wanting an escape, though my sisters resented her for abandoning us to him.

Neither of them, as far as I know, ever took credit for giving me my name. There is a significance to that, I think. A name is an important thing, and mine purports to be handed down from God himself.

Manon... a nickname, I was born Marie, though I have never once been called by that. It is a name I have always felt to be fateful, an act of God, determining my path. My mother could not have known about Mary, who I would meet many years after I left France, but perhaps the all-seeing eyes of the heavens observed our crossing-of-paths. Who's to say?

Yvaine... "North Star." The kinder of my elder sisters, Mathilde Junior - though we all called her Tilly - claimed it was my mother's choice, a reference to my odd appearance - shockingly white hair, and icy skin. The other, Emelie, insisted my father had meant to call me Yvonne, for my resemblance to our hideous aunt.

All these matters of fate and God and names were far from my mind as I grew, however. I was concerned almost entirely with my father, and my relentless pursuit of his love.

It was a game we played, the battle for affection. He praised me when I was clever, but scorned me when I won an argument. He played dolls with me only when my toys were soldiers, politicians, or clergymen. I begged to attend his meetings, balls, and dinner parties. Of all his children, there was no denying I took after him the most. It is one of the greatest shames of my life. For those golden years, however, I chased after him with the undying devotion known only to children. It did not last long, though. Change was coming.

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