#French cruellers

[realstrap]

‼️urgent!!!‼️

Nevermind, we can't get groceries yet!

10/24/2023

We thought we had enough for the minimum payment amount for groceries but of course these companies never make anything simple so now we have to be able to pay for these groceries in full and I'm so tired I just want to eat!!

We have no refrigeration so we can only meal prep and store certain things in the freezer and most of our stuff has to be shelf stable, we're both very disabled and we CAN'T hold down jobs so cfunding is our lifeline, I'm very stressed and hungry and I'm tired of things like this always getting in the way. All I want is for us not to starve!!! That's it.

We're $121/280, we need to meet this in the next 24 hours or we'll have to use the money to order take out to eat!!! This is time sensitive!!

CA: $lezsalt or $sleepyhen

VM: wildwotko

Dm for p@y pal

[curelore]

Cure Spicy has entered the scene!!

When I first saw her design after this episode aired, I remember being dissatisfied with her color being blue despite her name being "spicy", something I associate with red or similarly colored foods, but now that I'm actually watching the season, I still can't help but like her design. I love her crueller (cruller?) donut hair and her French/Western-style chef-inspired outfit, and her bread/sandwich attacks and shields are super cute!! Also, I hadn't mentioned it before, but I love how Pam-Pam's little accessory kinda looks like an egg and bacon. I am honestly so obsessed with all of the food inspired outfits, accessories, and attacks, as well as the fact that the show features foods from a wide variation of cultures!!!

Kokone is also super funny and cute as a civilian lol, I think that I'll really enjoy her development and how her personality plays off of the loud and boisterous Mary and Yui!! I relate to her thinking that she's comfortable being alone until she experiences being around someone who treats her fairly and kindly, and then not wanting to go back to being alone <3

Bonus funny Mary:

[girlslikemeliveforever]

french crueller(from dd’s) 220

pear 180

coffee 5

[chunkypandy]

Day 3 (24/03/2023)

Dinner:

Tim hortons meatless chicken burger 569kcal

Potato waffles 307kcal

Dessert:

1 honey crueller doughnut 260kcal

1 maple dip doughnut 233kcal

Drinks:

1/2 glass medium iced French vanilla 180kcal

3 glass cordial 18kcal

Calories: 1567 :( felt really sick after too so ate way too much.

CW: 123.0kg (-0.8kg)

[cupcakedex]

Japanese brand Mr. Donut has paired with Pokemon to bring an exclusive themed menu from 15 November till late December 2019! Along with special kitchenware, the menu includes:

Pikachu Donut (with a banana chocolate coating)

Pon de Ring Poké Ball (strawberry and white chocolate glazes)

Pikachu Tail (French crueller-sandwiched custard with banana and chocolate coating)

Grookey Tapioca Soda (Muscat)

Scorbunny Tapioca Soda (Peach)

Sobble Tapioca Soda (Lychee)

[prinsez05]

chocolate cruellers for breakfast #satisfyingreward #crueller #frenchcrueller #french #frenchbakery #bakery #jacquettes #danish #donut #donutlover #bakedgoods #bakerylover (at Jacquette's Bakery) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bv_-Pcqn2oF/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=18kq92zvoc2te

[sarkos]

Still, with only slightly exaggerated precision, we can say that one of the most crucial developments in “the discovery of personal whiteness” took place during the second half of the 17th century, on the peripheries of the still-young British empire. What’s more, historians such as Oscar and Mary Handlin, Edmund Morgan and Edward Rugemer have largely confirmed Du Bois’s suspicion that while xenophobia appears to be fairly universal among human groupings, the invention of a white racial identity was motivated from the start by a need to justify the enslavement of Africans. In the words of Eric Williams, a historian who later became the first prime minister of Trinidad and Tobago, “slavery was not born of racism: rather, racism was the consequence of slavery”. If you asked an Englishman in the early part of the 17th century what colour skin he had, he might very well have called it white. But the whiteness of his skin would have suggested no more suitable basis for a collective identity than the roundness of his nose or the baldness of his head. If you asked him to situate himself within the rapidly expanding borders of the known world, he would probably identify himself, first and most naturally, as an Englishman. If that category proved too narrow – if, say, he needed to describe what it was he had in common with the French and the Dutch that he did not share with Ottomans or Africans – he would almost certainly call himself a Christian instead. That religious identity was crucial for the development of the English slave trade – and eventually for the development of racial whiteness. In the early 17th century, plantation owners in the West Indies and in the American colonies largely depended on the labour of European indentured servants. These servants were considered chattel and were often treated brutally – the conditions on Barbados, England’s wealthiest colony, were notorious – but they were fortunate in at least one respect: because they were Christian, by law they could not be held in lifetime captivity unless they were criminals or prisoners of war. Africans enjoyed no such privilege. They were understood to be infidels, and thus the “perpetual enemies” of Christian nations, which made it legal to hold them as slaves. By 1640 or so, the rough treatment of indentured servants had started to diminish the supply of Europeans willing to work on the sugar and tobacco plantations, and so the colonists looked increasingly to slavery, and the Atlantic-sized loophole that enabled it, to keep their fantastically profitable operations supplied with labour. The plantation owners understood very well that their cruel treatment of indentured Europeans, and their even crueller treatment of enslaved Africans, might lead to thoughts – or worse – of vengeance. Significantly outnumbered, they lived in constant fear of uprisings. They were particularly afraid of incidents such as Bacon’s Rebellion, in 1676, which saw indentured Europeans fighting side-by-side with free and enslaved Africans against Virginia’s colonial government. To ward off such events, the plantation owners initially sought to protect themselves by giving their “Christian” servants legal privileges not available to their enslaved “Negroes”. The idea was to buy off the allegiance of indentured Europeans with a set of entitlements that, however meagre, set them above enslaved Africans. Toward the end of the 17th century, this scheme witnessed a significant shift: many of the laws that regulated slave and servant behaviour – the 1681 Servant Act in Jamaica, for example, which was later copied for use in South Carolina – began to describe the privileged class as “whites” and not as “Christians”.

The invention of whiteness: the long history of a dangerous idea | Race | The Guardian

[nowhereclosetoit]

Why “The Goldfinch” by Donna Tartt is Gay.

(Or: Why Theo is dealing with some fucking heavy internalised homophobia - that man is not straight lemme tell you that off the bat)

John Crowley and Cliffsnotes pissed me off when they said The Goldfinch wasn’t gay so I wrote a fucking long ass essay on Theo’s internalised homophobia...and I got carried away and it’s around 4,500 words so...have a read if you like!

+ I read some Goldfinch essays/analysis on here before and really enjoyed them so I thought I’d have a go!!

Be warned - it is absolute trash, I wrote it at 2am.

For context: I’m a big lesbian and have/still am dealing with internalised homophobia - so I know the motherfucker when I see it! Don’t test me, bitches!

I’m assuming we all know what internalised homophobia is so we’ll jump straight in.

The Cases of Internalised Homophobia Throughout the Novel

• Throughout the novel, Theo is subject to his own internalised homophobia and whilst it could be considered as fairly difficult to spot, it is, nonetheless, there.

• The way internalised homophobia is depicted is often in very short, brushed-over extracts which are presented sparsely throughout the entirety of the novel - this in itself is an example of internalised homophobia. Theo brushing-over any topic that is remotely gay, essentially avoiding the subject, in order to remove any link to the possibilities of homosexuality (leading towards Theo himself and the rest of the world in general) is a clear depiction of a fear to be associated or even draw near the subject that is The Gays(TM).

• This is different to straight (HA!) up homophobia as Theo is not homophobic to anyone other than himself, even though internalised homophobia can lead to homophobic behaviour towards others as well as oneself.

Theo’s Acceptance of Homosexuality - Not Regarding Himself.

Throughout the novel we broach the subject of homosexuality many a time, and the only times Theo becomes uncomfortable with dealing with it, is when it regards him. He presents a clear need to withdraw from any behaviour that could contribute towards “being gay” (as shown in Chapter 5 - Badr al-Dine: “I was going to miss them, but it seemed gay to come out and say so”) that could be seen by the outside world and does react extremely, in some cases, when confronted with having to deal with his sexuality. Otherwise, he is accepting.

(He is accepting of others but he does have a general sense of discomfort when regarding The Gays(TM) incase suspicion lays on him - this is another example of internalised homophobia, he is constantly paranoid whenever the subject is broached. Paranoid of what is not exactly clear, but then again internalised homophobia is not fuelled with logic, it is fuelled with fear, which can be the most illogical feeling to deal with).

A significant example of Theo accepting the idea of homosexuality, as long as it remains abstract and far away from him, is:

Hobie, and Theo’s relationship to him:

Theo accepts the idea that Hobie and Welty (Hobie’s “business partner”) raised Pippa together and whilst Hobie and Welty’s relationship is never explicitly depicted, we are aware of its status as a romantic relationship - Hobie and Welty lived and raised Pippa, Welty’s niece, together and Pippa also refers to Hobie as her uncle (Chapter 4 - Morphine Lollypop: “Hobie can’t do anything - he isn’t my real uncle. My pretend uncle, [her Aunt Margaret] calls him”.

Theo becomes uncomfortable when the idea is suggested to him by Boris that Hobie could be gay. (However, he eventually comes around to the idea and not caring once he ends up living with Hobie after his father dies.)

Theo’s discomfort here clearly depicts his own internalised homophobia. This is illustrated by the language he uses to describe his reactions and personal responses to the revelation as well as his responses to Boris.

Theo describing feeling “taken aback” suggests his sudden fear at homosexuality being bought up between him and Boris. This illustrates his need to get away from the topic as quick as possible, which is reinforced by the use of the adverb “swiftly”. Theo wants to “swiftly” move on from the subject regarding Hobie’s sexuality as it could, in some roundabout way that is made logical by internalised homophobia, be related to him and paint him as being gay. He then claims “I don’t know” as the swift “No” could have also implied him and Hobie could have had a conversation regarding sexuality before which also could “incriminate” him. After Boris’ response, which depicts his acceptance of homosexuality, Theo is firm in the idea of Hobie not being gay as for Hobie to be gay would be a “bad” thing in the heteronormative society we live in. The use of the adverb “uncertainly” reinforces the idea that Theo does not want Boris to perceive him or people he affiliates with as gay, despite Boris’ accepting response.

The fact Theo begins to ignore Hobie because of “Boris’ casual speculation” is another example of his internalised homophobia. Another example is also the fact the he “felt bad; [he] felt awful” – this shows how he knows that ignoring Hobie is the wrong thing to be doing, but he can’t help it because he is riddled with the feeling of fear – he can’t possibly be associated with someone else gay, he’s not sure as to why this is, but to the reader, it is clear that it is because it could paint him as being gay by association.

*Theo also accepts homosexuality in passing too, when he doesn’t have to think about it too much, e.g: “(know-it-all decorator? New Jersey housewife? self-conscious gay man?)” – C. 9, “while you were all in there, two guys, we thought we were in the shit but was only two gays, French guys, looking for restaurant—” – Gyuri, Boris’ driver, mentions this and Theo does not respond or have an internal monologue about The Gays™, it completely flies over his internalised homophobic head as he is shell-shocked from having The Goldfinch back showing that as long as it remains in the abstract and away from him, he does not care.

Theo’s relationship with homosexuality when it regards himself:

Theo does not like to be linked with anything that could possibly paint him as gay. This is a form/manifestation of internalised homophobia as this depicts behaviour that believes to be gay is “other”, not “the norm”, and a bad thing to be in our heteronormative society.

He is worried that people will perceive him as gay or lesser for having Popper with him (I think he’s a Maltese or something).

He wishes he had a dog that was more “masculine” – (less “gay”).

The fact that he says he “felt embarrassed to walk on the street” with his “completely gay” dog is another example of internalised homophobia – wanting to move away from anything that can remotely constitute to him being part of something “other” than the “norm”.

The language Theo uses to describe men flirting with him is extreme to say the least. He says that men flirting with him was “freaking [him] out thoroughly” and that he “dreaded” the “older, British” guy “always hitting on [him]”. Now, this could be perceived as just plain old homophobia, however, due to its extreme nature, it led me to believe that it is internalised. The adverb “thoroughly” depicts how disturbed Theo is by being hit on by this guy. This subsequently shows that the sense of discomfort he feels comes from a place of fear. He doesn’t want to have to respond to this guy as that would be acknowledging homosexuality regarding himself and linking himself to homosexuality.

One of the ways he justifies himself and his (none existent lmao) heterosexuality is by attempting to remove a link between himself and homosexuality. He does this by reinforcing the fact that he was slept with women in the sentence right after. He reminds the audience at the first possible instance that he can, that he is in fact not gay and sleeps with women (e.g: “one of the girls I slept with”)s

Theo’s Romantic Relationships with Women and How They Depict a Lack of Enthusiasm:

Kitsey

Theo’s descriptions of her in the book remain cold. He never seems to truly love her. We only really ever see Kitsey in cool coloured clothing (Ah! In the sky-blue?” – Theo and Kitsey’s engagement party, Chapter 10 – The Idiot), even Boris refers to her as “a bit icy to look at, no?...She – she is a lily, a snowflake! Less frosty in private, I hope?” (Chapter 10 – The Idiot).

The semantic field created by the use of “icy” and “frosty” from Boris, an outsider to Theo and Kitsey’s relationship, manages to clearly demonstrate to the audience, or anyone really looking at their relationship, that is a passionless one.

The significance of Boris referring to Kitsey as a “lily”, the traditional flower symbolic with death, is astounding as it reinforces that Theo and Kitsey’s relationship is passionless, cold, and dead.

Additionally: “Boris laughed. “And you love her, yes. But not too much.” / “Why do you say that?” / “Because you are not mad, or wild, or grieving!” (Chapter 10 – The Idiot).

“To my astonishment, she was blushing” – Kitsey is depicted as reserved emotionally by Theo throughout the novel, this contributes to his perception of her as “cold”. His “astonishment” here is at the fact that 1) She is showing emotion, an emotion that is linked to a considerable amount of vulnerability, and 2) The act of “blushing” is also linked to heat and warmth, which, Kitsey, apparently, is not.

“ruthless” – Theo also tries to portray Kitsey as “ruthless” despite the fact that in this scene, he is the crueller, colder party.

There is also another semantic field of coldness here, but this time it is Theo who wants to remain cold to Kitsey. This is symbolic of his passionless feelings for her and their relationship, removing himself from any sort of intimacy with her.

Pippa

Theo believes that he is in love with Pippa and whilst he definitely does love her platonically, he is not in love with her. He is obsessed with her. He is obsessed with Pippa in the same way he is to The Goldfinch – it’s one of the only things he has left that is able to link him to his mother, it’s one of the only things he has that can comfort him like his mother could. In short, it is something he feels vulnerable around due to it’s connection to the museum bombing, as well as his mother’s own fondness and bond with the painting. Pippa is to him as The Goldfinch was to his mother – a piece of artwork with astounding beauty. Pippa is merely something that he feels connected to, because of his mother – hence why he holds onto Pippa, as well as The Goldfinch, so tightly.

He does not love Pippa, he commodifies her. He describes her to the reader as he does The Goldfinch – (I mean the parts where he’s like UWU Her Limp! UWU Her Hair! UWU I’m Taking Her Hair Out Of The Trash! But alas, I couldn’t find them, forgive me). His love for her is obsession and Theo is even, minutely, aware of this himself.

He also feels a bond with Pippa, which is reciprocated by her, as they both lost their parental figure the day of the bombing. They were both left devastated by the loss of their parental figure – only their grief manifested in different ways. (For Pippa hers way through the physical injuries she received and having to spend time at the school for “troubled” girls in Switzerland, whereas Theo’s grief is shown through him not eating and sleeping whilst at the Barbour’s and then his drug and alcohol abuse in Vegas with Boris)

The great love he feels and shares with Pippa is clearly platonic however, he could be mistaking this love they have for romantic as a result of compulsory heterosexuality – (I’m using compulsory heterosexuality in this case as an LGBTQ+ individual feeling that they have to have romantic feelings/relations to people of the opposite gender/sex, and subconsciously forcing themselves to do so - due to the heteronormative society we live in) – but idk I’d have to look into that more.

Manifestations of Internalised Homophobia in Theo’s Behaviour/Lifestyle:

Denial/failure to acknowledge The Gay™ - see Vegas Boris relationship,

Attempts to pass as het/marrying for social approval – see marrying Kitsey, not loving her, marrying her for social approval from the Barbour’s (Mrs Barbour happy),

*Dropping out of school – see Vegas era – no work, on drugs and drunk at school, NY – works to get into early college program but doesn’t excel once he’s there, doesn’t try, takes 6 years to finish,

*Self-monitoring – the pills addiction, e.g: bit at the end where he obsessively monitors the amounts of shit he takes, his obsession with what he wears/how he appears socially,

*Substance Abuse babey! – see, the entire fucking novel,

*Suicide attempts babey! – see the end of the novel (Amsterdam) + after Amsterdam when he reveals that he’s tried before.

(All the bullets with a * I think have other reasons contributing to why Theo has those behaviours – I don’t think they’re solely because of internalised homophobia, e.g: substance abuse – a way of him going through his grief for his mother that he never really gets over because it’s a shit coping mechanism tbh)

Theo and Boris’ Relationship:

I think Theo and Boris’ relationship is the best example in “The Goldfinch” of Theo’s internalised homophobia as it covers an entire ass range of shit. For example:

Theo’s descriptions of Boris – This motherfucker goes on and fucking on about the way Boris looks like, bro we get it – he’s cute. Does he do this for literally anyone else in the novel? No (apart from his mother really but that’s on obsession not homo) – I would provide quotes, but quite frankly, this essay has gone on way longer than I anticipated and I cannot be bothered because there’s far too many for me to find.

The Moon Metaphor:

The moon represents home for Theo due to the story his mother told him. Boris is intrinsically linked to the moon. Theo couldn’t think about Pippa because “the moon was so large and clear”, cased closed.

How much Theo hates Kotku for no reason – and that’s on jealousy!

Theo and Boris literally fucking – Theo can only deal with this when he’s drunk (as that’s when they did it??). We also know that it actually meant something to him due to his incessant fucking assurance to us that it didn’t mean anything.

Like the entire few pages the excerpt below comes from, you know the ones:

The last time he sees Boris in Vegas – The entire “which was, of course, I love you” spiel he gives - change my mind, that is the gayest shit I’ve ever fucking read.

This entire fucking part:

Boris is trying to lighten the mood since Theo’s freaking the fuck out about losing The Goldfinch. When he realised Theo’s freaked out by The Gay™ (“No, no!” he said quickly, shaking his head, when he saw the look on my face”) he tries to comfort him because he knows Theo’s freaking the fuck out and that does not help the current situation (“I think it happens at that age sometimes”).

Theo is fucking really disturbed by the fact he’s being confronted with The Gay Shit™ he did in his youth (“My laugh spluttered out angrily, as if I’d coughed or choked on something”) and that’s on internalised homophobia.

+ You know that part somewhere in Chapter 10 where they’re in a diner or something Boris says something like “girlfriend or boyfriend” and Theo like literally gets up to leave? HAHA? What’s that about? – I couldn’t find it so sorry about that lol but here you go anyways.

In conclusion: it’s gay.

+ All that analysis is great, but why does this happen? Why does he experience this internalised homophobia?

In short, idk, it’s a question I’ve asked myself when suffering the same thing and thing only reason I can think as to why internalised homophobia is experienced - when you’re not part of a religion that says no (apparently) or an inherently homophobic environment - is simply because society is heteronormative. Because of this, you don’t see yourself represented in media or in the world (especially if you don’t know of/meet LGBTQ+ relatives/friends/role models when your young – or at all for that matter). It becomes really hard to see yourself in the world and whenever you do it feels really alien? It feels either like the greatest gift you’ve ever fucking had or a strange, unsettling event that you weren’t prepared for. Because there’s so little representation it feels like a fucking revelation whenever it is there – it’s a reminder that you are allowed to be a person, you have a place in this world as an LGBTQ+ person, you are right – you are not wrong or a fuck up, y’know? But then, it’s gone again too soon and you still feel not quite right?

TLDR – Theo (most likely) experiences internalised homophobia because of society being icky and also because I said so.

[ilovetheaffection]

( sms ) : i know it's three am but i got donuts and i'm outside. (Peter to James)

[text to: that boy who makes me feel things]: First off, you are so lucky that you are cute. Because 3 am??? Some of us sleep. [text to: that boy who makes me feel things]: Also no text to say you were alive after you like patrolled the city? I could hit you. I won’t. I could. But I wouldn’t. [text to: that boy who makes me feel things]: You know what I’m coming down. There better be a French Crueller in that box.

texting prompts. ( accepting ) || @dr3amkeeper5

[goldtracing]

Part II – England: The early years (950 – 1400)

I’ve decided to divide my further headcanons into digestible part, else I’ll end up writing a 10-page long essay/headcanon list that only a few people would read in one sitting from beginning to end.

Therefore, I hereby present to you – Arthur in childhood and puberty.

England:

In the beginning, there was just a scrawny, filthy little brat tumbling around the wet grasslands of Wessex and forging for food. Sometimes he stayed a bit longer in the one or the other village when somebody took pity on him. According to Scotland, amongst many other sources, his wee little brother run about bare foot most of the time since he couldn’t get his hands on fitting shoes and that he used an old wheat sack with holes cut in it as an undershirt. The tunic had been too large for him and stolen from somebody’s washing line and his wool stockings were very course. To this day, Arthur will deny that because he doesn’t want anybody to view him as anything less than a proper gentleman.

Living back then was harsh and England had to grow up fast. The world was already cruel to children and it was even crueller to a child personification. I personally see Arthur joining the military as soon as he could – keep in mind that the criteria for enlisting was very different back then. He probably wore a chainmail tunic with another shorter tunic of cloth other it that was split in the front. Underneath, he wore a linen undershirt. As time progressed, he would have also gotten a nice helmet and face plate to go with it. Think of one of those detailed ones that have a formed nose and lips.

Sometime during the Norman invasion, one of the higher ups would have caught on, on that, that one sharp tongued recruit wasn’t human. Of course Arthur would have tried to cover it up, switching camps on so on, but with the Danes attacking from the north and the Normans invading from the south, it would have been impossible for Arthur not to get caught up in battle and fatally wounded.

I say, latest after the Normans successfully conquered England was when Arthur was sent to court in order to be where a personification should be – beside the sovereign. It would be there where his overall obsession with looking high status would really start. Back in medieval times, class was very important, and class was reflected through clothing – there were even laws forbidding peasants from wearing certain things. Arthur would have switched his shorter tunics for longer, embroiled ones (maybe even with fur trimmings in the 12th century) and would have taken to wearing jewellery – amber beads, silver and gold chains and bracelets. No doubt he would have desperately tried to grow a beard – a sign of manhood – and failed at it because he was still just in his puberty.

He would have also taken to wearing cloaks and cowls for traveling all of them being fastened with an ornate brooch. Speaking of ornate, the belts and girdles used to fasten tunics would have also been costly.

During the 11th and 13th centuries, it became popular to wear increasingly long stockings. And brightly coloured ones too. Generally, Arthur would have seen to it that his clothing had strong, dark colours, preferably red in order to reflect social status.

England would have also taken to wearing leather boots, often with pointed toes as was fashionable. Some of his boots would have probably been made out of silk, as was popular amongst the nobles.

Aside from that Arthur would have probably participated in one of the Crusades and the 100-year war. In the Crusades as a swordsman – heavy armour in the form of chainmail, helmet and arm and leg guards. And in the 100-year war as an archer. The English were famous for their archers and the French cut off the middle and index finger of any English archer they could find. That is were the V-sign actually comes from – archers doing that sign to French POWs in spite and defiance. Either way, his battle dress would have been lighter to ensure more flexibly – more leather and less metal plating.     

Part I - On the fashion attitudes of England and America

Part II – England: The early years (950 – 1400)

Part III - America: The early years (1600 - 1700) 

Part IV - England: The Tudors (1400 - 1600)

Part V – America: Independence (1700 – 1800)

Part VI – England: The Stuarts (1600 – 1700)

Part VII – England: The Georgian Era (1700 – 1830)

Part VIII – America: The Civil War & The Gilded Age (1800 – 1900)

Part IX – England: The Victorian Era (1830 – 1901)

Part X – England & America – Edwardian Era to Roaring 20s (1900 – 1929)

Part XI – England & America – Great Depression to post-WWII (1930 – 1949)

Part XII – England & America: Cold War Part I (1950 – 60)

[christopher-bryant]

am i eating a french crueller in the shower? yes

[inter-chameleon]

To Die For

It was all planned out in her head.

A small container filled with frozen mango for A.B. to enjoy throughout the day, a large, freshly brewed cup of coffee, and a still warm french crueller.

She would get to HQ, leave her humble offerings on Sabik's desk along with a little note, then she'd disappear into the labyrinth of offices and labs to wait for her partner to find her. It was a good plan; cute and sweet, if Remi said so herself.

Morning, partner. Enjoy a small assortment of sugar and caffeine to start your day off well.

Leaving the note under a tiny potted plant with the brightest orange flowers she had ever seen - which just happened to sneak into her purchases that morning, Remi left the office feeling great about herself. Perhaps the flowers were a little too much, but the vibrance and the little turtle pot had won her over.

"Morning, Briggs, got a new haircut?"

"Good morning, Wilkes. And yes, thank you for noticing." She replied with an endeared eye roll.

"Looking good, sister!"

"Flatterer."

Yes, it was definitely going to be a good day.

[camillemontespan]

a kingdom divided [part twenty eight: epic love]

Part Twenty Seven if you want to catch up!

Thanks again to @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore for being my sounding board for a part of this chapter. I am never writing a series about monarchy and everything that entails again. 

Warnings: I’ve realised I never state any warnings and young kids could be reading this (I doubt it though), so just in case, there is some suggestive discussions and a sexy bit, though very, very brief.

@jovialyouthmusic @pug-bitch @sirbeepsalot @moonlightgem7 @carabeth @be-still-my-aching-heart @notoriouscs @iplaydrake  @dcbbw

                      **********************************************************

'Good morning Cordonians! I am Natalia Patrovsky, it is 7am and this is Cordonia Breakfast News! Our top news story today: King Liam is going to addressing the nation at 12pm today. This will be a televised event. Keep watching for live updates.'

                            ****************************************************

Leo was up bright and early. He was feeling particularly cheerful this morning. The TV was on and he had it switched to the news. 'We look forward to hearing what the King has to say,' the newsreader said. Leo grinned. 'Yeah baby!' he hollered, buttoning up his shirt. He turned off the TV and switched to the radio. He hummed along to the radio while brushing his teeth. He spat the toothpaste out into the sink and poured the tap, singing along to Billy Idol. 

‘And if I looked all over the world and there’s every type of girl,’ he sang, twirling around the bathroom. He opened the cupboard and brought out a bottle of cologne. ‘But your empty eyes seem to pass me by and leave me dancin’ with myself!’ 

He spritzed the cologne along his neck, belting out the song in the mirror. ‘SO LET’S SINK ANOTHER DRINK!’ 

                       ***********************************************************

He asked his driver to make a detour on his way to the hospital. After spoonfeeding Olivia chocolate mousse, which had made him feel warm and tingly, he decided he would go via the French style bakery on the square to pick up pastries for Olivia. She was probably sick of hospital food and he wanted to treat her. 

Armed with paper bags filled with macaroons, pain au chocolat and croissants, he was dropped off at the entrance to the hospital. Smiling, he sauntered up the steps, the bakery bags swinging from his arms, and he entered the reception area. 

Leo made his way to Olivia’s hospital room. He knocked on the door and opened it, feeling weirdly nervous. Like something in his stomach was fluttering. Weird.

He stopped when he entered.

Olivia was at the edge of her bed, fully dressed, zipping up her bag. She looked up at him and her eyes flicked to the bags of baked goods. ‘Leo,’ she said shortly.

‘Hey Liv,’ he said. He cast his eyes over the bag. ‘You’re leaving?’

‘Duh.’

She stood up properly and faced him with her arms crossed. Leo’s eyes roamed up and down her body; she was wearing a black leather jacket over a red sweater which showed off her cleavage, black skinny jeans and knee high suede black boots. She looked hot as fuck. She also didn’t look happy to see him. 

‘I brought you some treats,’ he told her, thrusting the bags at her. He felt suddenly awkward. He now wished he hadn’t bought her macaroons.

She gingerly took the bag and looked inside it. ‘Thanks,’ she said dully and placed it on top of her bag. ‘I’ll eat them on the way back to the palace.’

Leo swallowed then pasted a smile on his face. 'Y'know, you could've called me. I'd have come sooner. But hey, good timing anyway, you can get a ride back with me to the palace -'

'No, that's okay.'

Leo's smile faded. Something was off with her. Olivia, cold she may be, hadn’t been this cold and blunt with him in months. Leo knew he could make her laugh and smile, he knew she could have fun, and recently she had opened up to him more. He actually saw her more than he saw his own brother. God's sake, he had seen her naked so many times. But now, she was closed off. 

He didn’t know what had changed. He hadn’t said anything to offend her. He had visited her while she was in hospital so she wouldn’t be alone. He had brought her peonies.

Leo’s throat constricted and he felt his heart begin to beat a little faster when he remembered the peonies. His eyes flicked around the room; an empty vase stood on the shelf. Leo caught a flash of pink and he steeled himself to look. 

The peonies were in the bin. 

Olivia’s eyes followed his. When Leo looked back at her with a hurt expression on his face, she cleared her throat and stood a little straighter. ‘I told you, flowers don’t heal stab wounds.’

Leo was over to her in an instant. He grabbed her by the arms and she let out a gasp. ‘Liv, what’s wrong? Why are you acting like this?’

‘Like what?’ she asked.

‘Like you just don’t want to see me. You’re acting.. cold.’

‘I’m a Nevrakis, we’re a cold family,’ she replied, a smirk on her face. Leo stared at her, his green eyes penetrating her ice blue ones. 

‘No,’ he said. ‘No. You don’t get to do this.’ He pointed at her. ‘You don’t treat me like the shit on your shoe. I know you well enough now, Olivia, to know when you’re scared. You’re terrified of me and what this.. this thing is.’

‘We don’t have a thing, Leo,’ she said wearily. Leo shook his head, hot tears forming behind his eyes. 

‘Liv, you’re in denial. We kissed. I fed you chocolate mousse. We’ve slept together a hundred times. You invited me to sleep in your bed -just sleep- so you wouldn’t be alone-’

‘Yeah, well, I was pathetic!’ Olivia burst out, shoving him away.  ‘I should have known better!’

She got away from him and picked up her bag. Leo spun round. ‘Liv, please. Don’t throw this away-’

‘We don’t have anything to throw away!’ she shouted. Taking a breath, she looked at him steadily and lowered her voice. ‘Stop it. We are not together. You are not my boyfriend. We were just a mistake. You’re only going to hurt me in the end so I’m beating you to the punch, okay?’

Leo’s chest was heaving as he processed her words. ‘It’s because I gave you flowers, isn’t it?’ he asked. ‘The fucking flowers.’

‘Why did you even get me those?!’

‘Because I wanted to surprise you! To do something nice!’

‘No, Leo. That’s probably what you always do to your girls. You bring them gifts so they fall in love with you and then you ditch them-’

‘What the fuck, that’s not true!’ he protested in disbelief.

Olivia threw her hands up. ‘Spare me!’

The two of them stared at each other, their eyes wild. Leo stepped forward and she stepped backward, not wanting to close the distance. ‘Olivia..’ he ground out. She raised an eyebrow, clenching her fists. 

‘Olivia, I thought we were just beginning to start something.. We kissed. I thought.. '

She raised her chin. 'You thought wrong.'

'I don't get it. I know I was a dick to you before but I thought we were past that. You opened up to me.'

'Which I shouldn't have done,' she replied honestly. 'Leo, you will leave me at some point. You'll get bored. Reality will set in and you'll realise you don't want to be tied to the same woman. This is for the best. I'm cutting you loose-'

'I don't want to be cut loose!' he interrupted, frustrated.

Olivia shrugged. 'Well, I am. I'm cutting you loose, Leo.'

'Don't you understand that I'm falling in love with you?!'

Olivia paled. Her eyes went wide and she stared at him. Leo exhaled raggedly. He passed his hand over his eyes and began to pace around the room, avoiding her gaze.

'You can't be in love with me..' Olivia whispered. Leo spun around. 'Why not, Liv? You're fucking incredible. We'd honestly be so good together.' He was aware that he was begging her now. He didn't care.

'You challenge me. You don't put up with my shit and I don't put up with yours. We call each other out. We have amazing sex. We have rule number six. You make me laugh. You're the first thing I think of when I wake up. I know it's crazy and I tried to fight it, push it down, but I failed. You broke me down. You're the one I want to be with.' His voice cracked. ‘Please.’

Olivia’s eyes gleaned with tears but she cast her gaze down to the ground so he wouldn’t see her cry. She was too late; he had seen her eyes anyway. 

‘Leo, we won’t work..’ she whispered. ‘I will just be waiting for you to leave which you will. I refuse to have another Rhys brother break my heart. I will not be fooled twice.’

Leo moved towards her and this time, she didn’t back away. Their eyes met. ‘My brother was a fucking idiot to reject you,’ Leo murmured. ‘He didn’t see the diamond he had in front of him. But Liv.. I see you.’

Olivia swallowed, steeling herself. She had to be cruel - crueller than normal to him.

'You ruin everything you touch, Leo,' she said, her voice. 'You ruined your relationship with your brother and only now you’re starting to repair it, but how long will that last? You ruin women and turn them into sobbing wrecks after you've fucked them. Why would I want that? Why would you want me to be collateral damage? You are chaos, Leo. That is why we can't continue this. You destroy everything you touch.'

Leo stared at her. He looked beaten. He then spoke.

'Then you will be alone forever, Liv,’ he told her sadly. ‘You will build your walls back up and you won’t let anyone in. Not everyone is going to hurt you. I’m definitely not going to. I just want to be with you and nobody else but if you can’t accept that.. then fine. I’m not going to force you. But just know that you’re throwing away something amazing. Something that could be an intense, epic love. I hope you know that.’

She watched as he turned and walked towards the door. An ache spread through her chest but she pushed it down. No feelings. She needed to be cold.

                                 *************************************************

Liam adjusted his suit jacket and checked his microphone was working. He was on a makeshift stage outside the palace facing camera crews. This time, there was no audience. He wasn't taking any chances after the sudden riot last time.

Leo clapped him on the back. 'Good luck brother,' he whispered. Liam frowned. Leo's eyes were red rimmed and he looked pale. 'Are you okay?' he asked. Leo nodded unconvincingly. He turned to stand behind Liam with his hands folded against each other.

Liam waited for the signal that he was live. The camera men signalled and Liam cleared his throat.

'Cordonia,' he began. 'These past few months have been a turbulent time for us all. First of all, I want to apologise. I believe I was weak at the beginning. Blind sided by it all. I didn't realise how my actions would have been construed and for that, I'm sorry. I was naive. Back then, I was a newly ordained king. The crown felt heavy on my head and I felt I wasn't up to the job. By keeping my friends close, so I had constant support, I thought I could have my advisors there to help me. That was a mistake. I see now how that looked. I was a scared boy, a Prince, who didn't believe in himself and I should have realised that this was an opportunity for me to stand up and be a king.'

He took a moment. Leo was listening intently. He was the only one who knew that Liam hadn't prepared a speech for this. This was all coming from his brothers heart.

Leo knew that Liam loved Cordonia. He knew that Liam would always put the throne above everything's else - he had to. He knew that if Liam played this right, he would be the best king in Cordonian history.

Leo had thought he had ruined Cordonia when he abdicated. He knew he had caused chaos and upheaval and for that, he would always feel guilty. Watching his brother stand tall, his head held high, he saw a true king. He was so much better than Leo ever was.

His heart tugged and his chest ached. Olivia's words echoed in his mind. You ruin everything. She was right. Leo did ruin everything he touched. Maybe he would end up hurting her; he was a player. He didn’t respect women. Despite the fact he felt he had changed, reality could always bite him on the ass and he could get scared of the commitment and break her heart. 

Leo didn’t want to break Olivia’s heart.

Standing behind Liam in the shadows, Leo knew that if he stayed, the shadows would have to become his home. He couldn't stand tall with Liam, knowing he nearly brought about Cordonia's ruin when he abandoned the throne. He would feel like a hypocrite.

Anything Liam would do to serve the nation would be tainted by the shadow of his brother. Leo would be a reminder that Kings can abandon their throne and abandon their country. He didn't want that for Liam.

He continued to watch Liam, Olivia’s words echoing in his mind. You ruined your relationship with your brother and only now you’re starting to repair it, but how long will that last?

She was so right. Everything she had said to him had been true. Leo realised he hadn’t been listening to Liam for a while so he brought himself back. 

'I didn't want to be like my father,' Liam said honestly. 'For many, he was an idol, but for many others, he was a tyrant. By staying on the fence, I allowed riots, violence and death in my kingdom, all because I was too afraid to stand up and defend Cordonia. I was afraid I would be tarred with the same brush as my father by punishing my people.  But now, I see clearly.'

Liam cleared his throat. 'I have dispensed justice through imprisonment and house arrest. I don't want to sentence anymore. Not because I'm scared but because I want to give you a choice. From now on, the monarchy will loosen the reins. I will not be an absolute power. Instead, the people are going to have more of a voice and choices. Therefore, I will say this - The People's Committee is still going to be strong and I have decided that the committee will meet in Parliament to speak freely to their government. You can petition me. Taxes will be decreased gradually, while the living wage will be upped. I have heard your grievances and I want to change things.’

He was silent for a moment.

'To the nobles who plotted to rise up, I can't let that lie.  The palace are currently investigating which nobles were involved. I will not have a kingdom divided. I refuse to watch Cordonia be destroyed from within my own palace. We all saw it; the uprising started within my walls and extended out into the capital. It spread like wildfire. I want Cordonia to be at peace and for people to be happy and I will not stand for anybody who wishes to tarnish that. Therefore, I am giving you the choice. To heal the rift you caused, to repair the destruction, the nobles who rose up against me will have to contribute to the country. By that, I mean invest 500,000 euro of your own money to help Cordonia move forward. Invest in orphanages, invest in animal shelters, donate to our hospitals. Do something good for this country, something that doesn't bring pain. Help me fix it. Otherwise, you are banished and will not be welcome in Cordonia any more. Those are your two choices. Take it or leave it. '

Leo noted that his voice was sharper now. Liam didn't waver.

'I will fight until the end,' Liam said. 'I will fight to ensure that Cordonia never sees this kind of destruction again. I want my people to feel safe and if you join me, we can make that happen. Let us show the world what we can be. How great we can be. For Cordonia, now and forever.'

                            ********************************************************

Hana and Maxwell trudged downstairs, sleepy eyed with bedhead. It was 9am and they had been woken up by laughter. They entered the kitchen to find Camille making pancakes while Drake had his arms wrapped around her, nuzzling into her neck with his hands placed on her bump. She was bigger now; Hana thought Camille really suited being pregnant. 

Bianca was stood on a chair hanging up small American flags attached to a long string. 

Camille looked around when she saw Hana and Maxwell enter. ‘Hey guys! Happy 4th of July!’

Drake shot them both a happy grin and Bianca abandoned her flags to give both of them a hug. ‘Here, have a glass of mimosa to celebrate!’ She passed them both champagne flutes.

‘Wow! Happy 4th of July!’ Hana beamed, taking a sip. Who cared that it was early? It was the 4th of July. She heard that Americans loved this holiday, so why not get into the spirit?

Maxwell was just pleased to see that clearly, today was going to a party.

'So, tonight we are going to have our usual 4th of July tradition which is us going down to the lake, setting up a fire, toasting smores and setting off fireworks,' Bianca explained. Hana jumped up and down excitedly.

'I'm yet to experience the Walker 4th of July tradition so I'm really looking forward to this,' Camille told her softly. Drake pulled her in for a cuddle. He had been really affectionate this morning which Camille loved.

They settled around the dining table after Camille dished up the pancakes. 'Happy 4th of July everyone!' Bianca cheered.

                               **********************************************

Drake and Camille were up in Drake's room while the others were downstairs.

'It's so hard to fucking move now!' Camille complained, wincing as she moved position. Drake chuckled. 'I love you being pregnant.'

'Drake, I resemble a beached whale,' she replied dryly.

'Camille, you're fucking gorgeous,' he told her. He kissed her neck and then pushed her onto him. They were both naked and he ran his hands down her hips, his eyes taking in her new shape.

She shifted and leaned over to the bedside table. She opened the drawer.

Drake jumped out of his skin when he saw she was brandishing a kitchen utensil.

'What the fuck, Camille?!'

She threw her head back and let out a cackle. 'Oh my God, your face!'

'Camille, it’s not funny!'

'Don't be such a prude!' she scolded him, giving him a wink. Drake tried to grab the utensil but she held it out of his reach.

'Camille, I love you, but I am not using one of my mothers kitchen utensils for sexy times.'

She sniggered. 'I was joking, Drake! But wow, noted. No kitchen utensils for you.'

'It's just... icky.'

Camille put it on the bedside table and leaned down to kiss him but he didn't reciprocate. She frowned.

'Okay, the utensil isn't being used, why have you gone all weird?'

'I'm just so aware that it's beside us..'

Camille sighed and shoved the utensil into the drawer. 'There. It's hidden. Satisfied now?'

Drake nodded. Camille ran her hands down his chest and he closed his eyes, focusing on her touch. She kissed her way down his stomach and licked his hip lines, causing Drake's body to involuntarily buck. Camille smiled and she took him in her mouth.

'Holy fuck, Camille..'

The utensil was forgotten about.

                                  **************************************************

While Camille showered, Drake padded downstairs armed with the utensil. He snuck into the kitchen and put it back into its place.

'Drake, no need to be sneaky with the utensils!' Bianca said cheerily as she entered the room. Drake jumped and turned to her, blushing.

'Mom, we didn't use the utensils!'

'It's okay if you did Drake.'

'Mom, I would never use something that you have used for sex, do you see how gross that is?!'

Bianca raised an eyebrow. 'Someone's defensive today.'

'I just don't want to discuss my sex life with my mother if that's okay.'

Bianca chuckled then leaned against the kitchen island, studying him. 'I'm glad you and Camille are still having fun. Many guys wouldn't want to touch their wives while they're pregnant. Good to see you're like your father.'

'Mom, what did I say about discussing my sex life?' he groaned.

Bianca shrugged. 'Just saying, honey! I'm just happy you both are so in love. It's nice to see. How are you feeling about Lily?'

Drake smiled, glad to see a change of subject. 'Really, really excited,' he admitted. 'I just hope I'm a good dad.'

Bianca moved towards him and enveloped him in a hug. 'You're going to be the best dad ever, honey. I know it.'

Camille padded into the kitchen. 'Anything you need me to help with, Bianca?' she asked. Bianca shook her head. 'Just you get outside. Hana and Maxwell are down by the lake setting up already.'

Drake took Camille's hand and led her out towards the lake. He had spent all his summers down by the lake. It was his favourite place in the world and he was so happy that he could share it with Camille.

Maxwell had set up portable speakers and his ipod. He was currently playing Party in the USA, sticking to the theme. Hana was assembling cushions and blankets, as well as loungers.

The sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow over the lake. Camille's skin shone in the light and Drake watched as she helped Hana lay out more blankets. He really hoped they would be back next year to celebrate this holiday with Lily.

Bianca came out holding a pitcher of sangria and a pitcher of lemonade for Camille. 'Alright my sweeties! Let's get this party started!'

Drake led Camille out to the lake where Hana was setting up blankets and chairs while Maxwell was playing his 4th of July playlist. Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus was playing, staying right on theme. Bianca came out holding a pitcher of sangria in one hand and a pitcher of lemonade for Camille in the other.

Later, Drake and Hana set off the fireworks. They exploded over the lake, the gold, pink and red reflecting against the lake’s surface. Maxwell stood up to take over from Drake, who settled down beside Camille under a blanket. She beamed at him.

‘I can’t wait for this to be our tradition every summer,’ Camille whispered in Drake’s ear. He brought her in for a tight hug. He was glad that she wanted their new family to celebrate the 4th of July the Walker way. 

       ********************************************************************************

Liam sat in his study with a glass of scotch in his hand. He needed to relax after his televised speech; he hoped it had gone down well with the public. Liam  was playing Miles Davis on his record player. Closing his eyes, he sipped his scotch and listened.

The door knocked, interrupting his peace. ‘Yes?’ he groaned.

It was Leo.

He looked awful. His face was still pale and his eyes still red-rimmed. His tie was loosened and his shirt creased.

‘Leo, what’s happened?’

His brother stood in front of him and with a shaking hand, held out a piece of paper. Liam took it, confused. 

Leo swallowed. ‘I’m sorry Liam but I’m leaving. I’m going to Cuba.’

[mostlysignssomeportents]

#3yrsago We Stand on Guard: in 100 years, America seizes Canada for its water

Brian K Vaughan's varied career in comics has had numerous and diverse hits like Saga, the epically weird and sexy space-opera; Y: The Last Man, an end-of-the-world story; now, with We Stand on Guard, Vaughan dramatically ups his body count in a tale of an American resource war that's a lot closer to home than the invasion of Iraq.

When We Stand on Guard launched last summer, it made more news in Canada than it did in America, tickling the quintessentially Canadian anxiety about its southern neighbour, and noting with that very Canadian pride that Vaughan was married to a Canadian and that his storyboarder Steve Skroce (who also storyboards for the Wachowskis) was from Toronto.

As the series progressed -- and completed, it's a fully self-contained story now, collected in a single, handsome, hardcover volume -- the American media started to take notice, and wasn't always comfortable with what it saw.

The premise of We Stand on Guard is this: in 100 years, the President of the United States is assassinated by a Canadian drone. Canadians insist that it was a false flag operation, but the American retaliation is swift and bloody -- and convenient. As the missiles rain down on Canada, enormous machines called "hosers" are maneuvered into place around Canada's prodigious stores of fresh water, diverting them to a USA that has been turned into a dust-bowl by poor regulation and climate change.

The Canadian guerrilla fighters who remain are treated without mercy, and vanquished without risk. The American counterinsurgency uses drones -- including building-sized mechas -- to stamp out the underground. When leaders are captured, they're tortured in endless neural-interface VR sims, each crueller than the last, while their interrogators telecommute from comfortable offices in the Beltway.

The parallels to 21st century American warfighting aren't exactly subtle, but that doesn't make them easy, either. Modern US military action -- even the "boots on the ground" kind -- requires fewer fighters than ever before, thanks to increasing automation. This has the side effect of making the wars more politically palatable, eliminating the need for a draft (the economically desperate can handily substitute for conscript troops when you don't need that many warm bodies), and vastly reducing American military casualties relative to the wars of the past century. The fact that all this automation pays huge dividends to the military technology contractors who supply it is the icing on the cake, providing the capital needed for lobbying to make this a self-sustaining phenomenon.

But setting the occupation in Canada changes its complexion, literally, stamping white faces underfoot, provoking howls of anguish in English (and sometimes French). It's embarrassing how well this juxtaposition works, because Afghanis and Iraqis suffer just as much under occupation. But countries that have suffered under dictatorship are somehow harder to stay outraged about when dictatorship gives way to bombardment and failed states, through some shameful subconscious relativism. The "after" is the same, but there's a difference in the "before" that, I'm embarrassed to say, made my alarm and outrage over real-world events lose the urgency they merited.

That's the real subversiveness in this comic. It's not making us imagine what it would be like for people in a rich, industrial country to suffer occupation -- it's making us realise how inevitable the occupations in the rest of the world have come to seem.

None of that would matter if this wasn't a good story, and it is: a self-contained, rocketing, aggressively readable, gripping graphic novel in the BK Vaughan tradition. I read it twice in one afternoon, in one sitting, because it's that good -- likable characters, exciting action, fabulous art.

We Stand on Guard [Brian K Vaughan, Matt Hollingsworth, Steve Skroce/Image]

https://boingboing.net/2016/05/18/we-stand-on-guard-in-100-year.html

[doctoraliceharvey]

Tongue, windpipe and fingers 😊

Tongue: What was in your last meal?

Krispy Kreme glazed mini cruellers (I just woke up)

Windpipe: Do you sing?

All the tiiiiime and usually in the car. Thanks to La Casa de Papel, I have Bella Ciao stuck in my head XD

Fingers: Do you play an instrument?

I did french horn for like a decade and marched mellophone for 7 years, I miss it so much

[noa-halevy]

The trip from the basement to the dark and dirty alleyway she was now hiding in was a blur. When Noa had woken up, face pressed into the unforgiving concrete, the first thing she’d done was vomit. It took her an age to slowly drag herself, with her one good arm, out of view of anybody who might pass by on the adjacent road. It was luck alone that had her making out a takeaway delivery address in the street; bleary eyes eventually focusing just enough for her to figure out where the fuck they had left her. Haringey.

It wasn’t as though she could just walk out into the street and ask for help. It might’ve come as a bit of a shock to the public—mostly due to her finger, or lack thereof, she imagined—that she was painted almost head to toe in her own blood. People would ask questions. The police would get involved. Neither were ideal situations for herself or the French Organization right now. Thankfully, the Russians needed her to get out of this exchange in one relatively intact piece. They’d reunited her with her phone.

Calling Elaina was out of the question because there was no way in hell she was going to let her sister see her like this. Daniel was in Launceston. Her father would never forgive her for putting herself in harm’s way to such an extent. The only other person she trusted enough to help was Olivier, and even though she begrudged asking anybody for a hand, she knew that he would be there if she needed him. It was no surprise that he’d answered her call. Less so how quickly he’d arrived when she’d begged him to come. 

It was pathetic, really. She was sat there with a piece of glass in her hand as though she might have anything left to fight anybody who stumbled across her. Broken leg. Broken nose. Broken ribs. Dislocated shoulder and elbow. Missing finger. Even more missing teeth. Concussion. They’d done a fucking number, all right. Yet still, she would’ve struggled.

It took a moment to realize the silhouette that’d appeared was him. Enough time for her to flinch at the idea of it being them returning, instead. They’d played crueller jokes.

Though she still gripped onto the shard tightly enough that it probably would’ve hurt if she wasn’t already overloaded with pain, all she felt was relief. Noa teared up immediately. If she’d thought she was going to attempt a brave face, it faded in an instant. Even though his being there didn’t take away her anger, it sure as hell made her feel safe for the first time since she’d hacked up Maksim’s men on the bridge. She wasn’t scared anymore.

Noa could only muster up four words:

“The Russians are here.”

@olivier--fontaine