#Maude Hazard

[jovienna]

in memoriam headcanons idk

gaunt is an excellent cook (contrary to ellwood, who is a walking fire hazard)

up until the declaration of war in 1914, west genuinely believed that queen victoria was ruler of the united kingdom

sometimes, ellwood would strut walk around the preshute grounds with a ‘cane’ (it’s an umbrella)

gaunt took an embarrassingly long time to learn how to swim (~12y/o) and ellwood’s the only person who knows about it

grimsey bears duelling scars on his cheek (courtesy of a particularly strenuous fencing match in hundreds) and ellwood used to be really jealous of it— at least, before enlistment

people at preshute used to joke that gaunt was ellwood’s ‘guard dog’. ‘where’s his leash?’ etc etc.

post-war, maud and elisabeth attend university together and quickly become… roommates 🤨 (elisabeth had the wrong branch, but the right family tree!)

ellwood and his mother used to pretend that they were siblings as a joke

gaunt loves to see ellwood grow old & collected the first fragments of his greying hairs in a mason jar (ellwood thought that growing old as a dastardly and demeaning process—gaunt thinks it is beautiful.)

maud is a dog person. i picture her with a large guard breed, like a maremma or german shepherd. she’s still fond of cats tho

+ more if people ask for it? idk

[techwrecker]

"You're my brother, until the end of times. Even after that."

I found this quote on pintrest, and it reminds me of the batch.

It's in your hands now.

whatever you do, don’t imagine Omega saying goodbye to Hunter for the very last time.

𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

Genre: just.. sad.

Word Count: 1.8k

TW: death (non-violent), SFW (please let me know if I missed any)

After the fall of Tantiss, the Batch had retired to Pabu in order to raise Omega and give her the childhood she deserved. As well as catching up on much needed rest and relaxation, the remaining members of Clone Force 99 integrated quite nicely into the island's rich community.

Crosshair became extremely proficient in net weaving. His synthetic hand was able to twist and weave at twice the speed and accuracy with the fibers. With his eyes going as he got older, he was able to rely on muscle memory to make the most intricately woven nets in the galaxy. Wrecker's main job had been boat building & repair, but as time waned, the elderly man had shifted to quiet fishing. As was his kind nature, he shared whatever he caught with anybody who asked. When he was younger and his hair had not yet begun to grey, Hunter had served as Mayor Shep Hazard's advisor on the goings-on of the outer galaxy. As he grew older and frailer, the children of Pabu would come to Hunter for his grand stories and tall tales of his time serving in The Republic. He was careful to omit the more gruesome details or skirt around sketchy missions. He became known on Pabu as The Storyteller.

It had been 3 years since Wrecker had passed away, and 6 before that, Crosshair had gone first. That made today even harder. Hunter had always been there to console Omega. Their bond was special and innate. Who was going to be there for her today?

Lyana had commed Omega about a week ago.

--------------------

"Ly! It's so great to hear from you!" Omega beamed at the holographic image of her best friend.

"You to Meg. I just wish it were under better circumstances," she said.

Omega's face fell. "What is it?" she asked, though she already knew the answer deep down.

"It's Hunter. He isn't sick or anything, but our healer has assessed that he is at the end of his life-journey," Lyana replied, looking down at her hands solemnly. "I think you should come back."

"I'm on my way."

Omega immediately shut off the holo and raced to the pilot's chair. She flipped on the ignition switches and punched in the coordinates to her home. From where she was in the galaxy, it was about an 8 hour flight. But not with Omega in the chair. She could shave it down to about 6 and a half. Once in hyperspace, the young woman let herself lean back, slumping into the chair. She looked at the dash where Tech's goggles called home ever since Omega had left initially to join The Rebellion. Gingerly, Omega picked them up. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, hot tears already threatening to spill over.

"I miss you, Tech," she whispered to the shattered goggles. She let herself clutch the delicate goggles close as she fell into a light sleep.

--------------------

After hours of travel, Omega brought The Mini-Maud into the Pabu atmosphere. The clouds were a thick grey color and dense as a Bantha. A sense of relief washed over her seeing the planet reflecting her mood. She flicked on the auto pilot and retreated to the back of her ship to change out of her grimy flight suit. She was careful to keep track of her belongings, always keeping them in their place on the small closet shelf. Wrecker's Lula doll was now ragged, with multiple tears along the seams. Thankfully, Omega was quick with picking up how to repair items so she could keep it a while longer. Omega stroked the right ear for comfort, a habit she had picked up as a child.

"Oh, Lula. What are we going to do?"

She quickly changed into her civilian clothes, careful to tuck the strip of deep blue mourning fabric into her pants pocket. It was Pabu custom for the women to weave it into their hair in a simple braid to symbolize their loved one's return to the sea. She would wear it until the after the cast-off ceremony.

Omega returned to the cockpit to pull her ship up to the open-air landing dock next to the various fishing vessels. She expertly landed the reliable ship without so much as a jolt. Omega glanced out the viewport. Lyana was already waiting for her on the loading dock. She released the hatch and walked out to meet her friend.

Lyana pulled her in for a tight hug. "It is so wonderful to see you, Megs."

Again, tears welled up in Omega's eyes, distorting her vision. She squeezed them shut before they could fall. "You too."

They pulled away and began up the steps, toward Hunter's home. Ever since Hunter became the remaining Bad Batcher, he had moved to the lowest level of Pabu. He claimed that he had seen enough of the sky and wanted to be close to the ocean, that it reminded him of Kamino. Though Omega knew it was because his knees were beginning to give out, he just didn't want to admit how weak he was becoming.

"He sits for hours on the rocky beach, just listening to the waves," Lyana said. "But since last week, he hasn't been able to get out of bed. Too weak."

"He wasn't only listening to the waves," Omega said, ignoring that last part. "His ears remained sharp all these years. He was taking in all sounds, from the sand-crabs to the fishing bells out at sea, making up the landscape of his peace,"

The pair had reached the door.

"Are you ready?" her friend asked gently.

Omega hardened her face in resolve. She was going to be strong. Hunter had been strong for her all her life. Now it was her turn.

"Yes."

She opened the creaky, wooden door and stepped into the homey, one-room hovel.

"Hunter?" Omega inquired gently into the air. She knew he knew they had arrived, but it was more habit than anything. Especially since he couldn't be anywhere else except in bed.

"I'm in here." She heard him call back.

The door to his room was slightly ajar. All it took was a gentle push for it to open further, revealing Hunter, covers pulled up to his chest. His hair was thinner and whiter than the last time she had seen him, making the now-dull red of his signature bandana stick out even more. His eyes drifted to meet hers and he smiled.

"You're back." He began to reach out toward her, hand shaking. Omega pulled up a chair and sat at his bedside, encasing his hand gently between her own.

"Yes, I'm home," she replied.

"I'm afraid this old clone just isn't what he used to be, Omega," he said with as much humor as he could muster. Even his voice sounded weak.

"Are you comfortable? Is there anything I can get you?"

"Oh, no, no. Now that you're here, I have everything I need." He smiled up at her. "Now tell me about what you have been up to."

Omega began to tell him of all the missions she had been on now that she had been promoted to a pilot in the Rebel Alliance Starfighter Corps. Being as tired as he was, Hunter didn't ask many questions, but his interest was piqued when Omega told him she had been working closely with Hera Syndulla before she was transferred. He was relieved to know she was doing well. She only took a break from her stories to make Hunter a quick clear broth for his midday meal that he could sip on while she continued.

The day went by too quickly for Omega. She could feel Hunters grip slowly getting weaker as the hours passed. The inevitable was coming.

"Omega," Hunter began after a lull in her stories. "I need you to do something for me."

"Of course, Hunter. Anything." She squeezed his hand tighter.

"When I'm gone-"

"No! Stop." Omega cut him off. "Don't say that. Not yet. You're still here. You're not going anywhere." The tears that had been threatening to arise all day had finally won. She let them fall down her cheeks and drip onto their hands, all hopes of staying strong out the viewport.

"Omega, this is important. When I'm gone," he began again, slowly. "Promise me that you will not hold on to the past too tightly."

She felt betrayed. Her face burned. "How could you say that? I owe you and our brothers my entire life! I can't just forget that, Hunter." It came out harsher than she meant it to.

He tried to push himself up with one elbow to meet her at eye level, struggling. Omega reached behind him as support so he could sit up. "I didn't say forget us. That would be an impossible ask, even of you. I said don't hold on to the past. You have to let us go, continue your life without us. You deserve to be happy, Omega. And being happy means making peace with the past."

She knew what he was trying to say, but how could she let go of her brothers? Of her family? Omega slipped of the chair and kneeled at his bedside. Now looking up at him, she felt like a kid again. She was taken back to the first time she had seen them at full maturity when they came back to Kamino as a whole squad. They had been wary of the little female clone trying to tag along with them. She was eternally grateful that they had put up with her and welcomed her as one of their own.

Hunter reached over to her cheek and wiped away her tears with his thumb. It felt icy against her burning cheeks. All the love and kindness in the entire galaxy couldn't compare to the look on his face now.

"Okay, Hunter. I promise."

That was enough for him. He laid back down against his pillow and gave one last look at Omega.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, Omega"

"I love you too, Hunter."

His gaze shifted to the ceiling above his bed. She could tell he was looking past the plaster, already seeing the stars of the galaxy ahead of him. She gripped his hand tighter and watched as he closed his eyes one final time. Hunter's chest rose and fell a few more times before he drifted into the forever-sleep.

Omega placed his hand gently across his abdomen, never to hold it again. She leaned over him and placed her hands on either side of his face, bringing her forehead to meet his own. She whispered the phrase Clones say when releasing one another back into the stars.

"You're my brother, until the end of times. Even after that."

[kingofthe-egirls]

Hello, its my first time requesting something so could I get some friendship Headcanons with the monster with a gn reader who can channel the powers of yokai?

STAR BALL: KITSUNE!LUFFY x Y/N

So I took a completely different approach with this, but I hope you like it! Also I used a lot of imagery from this fandom wiki article!

(cw: fight scene, slight violence, kitsune!luffy, fluff, food)

(a/n: i have no idea about japanese mythology, so all of this has been based off my cursory internet searches! i'm more familiar with faerie lore tbh)

Songs: "Starsick" by Maude Latour

words:

"I'm booooored," your yōkai spirit friend sighs out, hopping up your back to drape himself dramatically across your shoulders. You nuzzle into his soft fur, letting his scarlet tails flick around you angrily.

"Well, I'm sorry, but we're not there yet, Luffy," you scratch the kitsune behind his ears. He's in fox form, having shapeshifted back to ride on your shoulders instead of walk. He paws at the diamond dangling from your earlobe. The scarlet fur scratches against your chin. You wave him away, "Stop it."

He groans. His little red paws start playing with your loose hair, instead. "Luffy!" You chide, and he groans again in agony, sliding off your shoulders to melt into his human form again.

Luffy is a kitsune, having gained a tail for each hundred years he's been alive: Luffy has eight. They say the wisest kitsunes have nine.

He stalks in front of you, hands in his pockets as he walks backwards. The dirt path is littered with rocks and stones, but he deftly avoids stepping on any tripping hazards. Stupid spirit magic.

"When are we getting there?" He asks again, whiny. You roll your eyes.

"Another three miles, Luffy. Keep walking."

"Uggghhhhh," he drags his feet, turning back around to face forward. His foxy grin catches you off-guard, and you stumble. Luffy snickers, surely aware of your stupid mortal crush on this spirit fox.

"We have to walk," you point out, catching up to him on the dirt path, "Because someone broke our only other means of transportation."

"Stupid rowboat," Luffy mutters, kicking a stone. Two of his tails flicker into existence, shortchanging his disguise from agitation.

"Stupid Luffy," you counter, flicking him in the forehead. He whines, frowning at you as he rubs the now slightly red spot. You sniff. "Besides, it should be good for you to stretch your legs. You've been fox-form for a while now, huh?"

Luffy nods, stepping in place beside you. He stares at the sky, sparkly eyes tracking clouds as they race across the sky. "Gonna rain soon," he says, ominously.

"How can ya tell?"

Luffy shrugs. "Dunno. Just can," he sharply glances behind you, and something aggressive flashes in his eyes. "Get behind me," he whispers, and you do. Your hand goes to the knife at your belt, but Luffy's already balled his hands into fists.

"Hey, asshole!" Your spirit guide calls, staring at the bushes along the side of the road. Something rustles from within them. You gasp slightly, stepping back. Your heel snaps a twig.

Suddenly, a red-gold blur lashes out at Luffy, startling him slightly as he stumbles backward. You give him room, now fully drawing your knife. Luffy curses, ripping at the thing that's now clawing at his face.

You surge forward, stabbing at the thing as it scrabbles around your friend's head, suffocating him. The thing cries, yelping in pain as it hops away from Luffy's now-scratched up face. Anger burns in his dark eyes. He stalks forward, holding up his fists.

"Bad foxy," he accuses, spitting on the ground. The thing, which you now see is another kitsune, hisses at him.

"What the fuck," you breathe, shuffling behind Luffy a bit more. He crouches down, staring at the fox as it hisses and spits into the ground. He tilts his head.

"Oh!" He apologizes, suddenly softer and more earnest. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize! Who stole it?"

"Stole what?"

Luffy shakes his head. "His star ball," Luffy explains, as if that made any sense to you.

"Star ball?"

"Life force ball," he turns back to the kitsune, who only has one tail. "You're pretty young, huh?" He asks, holding out his hand.

The kitsune growls, but doesn't attack. Doesn't run away, either. You frown. "Does he need our help?"

Luffy grins.

"Of course."

****

The fox's name is Ember.

"Hi Ember," you say, sliding a tangerine slice his way. The kitsune yaps at you, but gobbles up the fruit without a second thought. You lean against the trunk of an oak tree, while Luffy translates the poor spirit's story. You grimace. "Sorry for stabbing you," you say, softly. The knife hadn't left more than a scratch, but you'd still offered to help patch it up. The fox had refused, but you hope the time spent together will let him change his mind. Luffy sits cross-legged in front of you, nodding seriously as the fox tilts his head back and forth, chewing on the squishy orange slice.

"So, a traveler stole it?" He repeats, flicking his eyes to you, "We're chasing a traveler right now, in fact. What did they look like?"

The fox flicks his ears in answer, and Luffy nods. "Sounds like the same guy. Long, sharp claws? Weird feet?"

The fox yaps, jumping up and down. He nods. "Y/N and I are gonna go kick his ass for ya, okay? We'll get your star ball back."

You slide another tangerine slice his way, but Luffy intercepts it. He chews the citrus loudly, with his mouth open. He tilts his own fox ears, now completely visible in his mortal form. They flick scarlet over fluffy black hair. You scan the length of Luffy's lithe form, bent forward as he starts playing with the younger kitsune.

"You're gonna have so many tails one day!" He's saying, giggling as he lets the kitsune play-fight with his fist. He loosely muzzles him, before letting him frisk away to snap his jaws and laugh. Foxes laugh, loudly. Luffy joins in. "You'll have as many as me!" He grins, crossing his arms with pride. He lets his eight, flickering tails pop into existence. They're white at the base before fading to dark red at the tips. His ears are red, too. His paws are red in fox form, but his hands are the same honey-tone as the rest of him as he is now. Half-boy, half-fox. All smiling and silly. His eyes crinkle up like crescent moons.

The child-fox gapes at his display, jumping around in excitement. You stand, having finished your tangerine. "Let's get started!" You suggest, tossing the orange rind off to the side. The smaller fox snaps forward, closing its jaws around the peel before you can stop him. He swallows it in one gulp. You roll your eyes.

"Luffy junior," you huff, sticking your hands in your pockets as you walk back to the road. Luffy follows after you, the junior in question now riding his shoulders. "Why doesn't he change shape?"

Luffy stares at him, while the kitsune chitters. "He's really only a teenager," Luffy explains, catching up to you. His shoulder bumps into yours, and a spark shoots through your stomach. You clear your throat.

"Can you not shapeshift til you're older?"

"Well, ya get better at it," Luffy smiles, meeting your curious gaze with mischief in his. His nose crinkles. "But everyone can shapeshift no matter how old they are. But ya can't," his face darkens, and the kitsune on his shoulder croons sadly. He scritches his soft-gold ears.

"Ya can't shapeshift without your star ball," Luffy continues, "It's like, your essence of life. And ya gotta keep some of your spirit safe while ya change shape. And now that someone has it, he can't safely turn back and forth. Plus! It's really hard to get your own star ball back yourself." Luffy's eyebrows pull down hard over his eyes.

He looks furious.

Luffy's voice turns dark, and raspy, "Because he now has to follow the orders of whoever stole his ball. He's completely under some human's control." Luffy spits this out like stones in the street. He clenches his hands into fists. You bump your shoulder into his. He meets your eyes, questioning; his jaw clenches.

"We're gonna kick that guy's ass," you smile. Luffy grins, beaming from your confidence in him, as well. Even the kitsune's ears perk up.

"We're gonna get your star ball back."

****

"Here," you hiss, crouching below a gnarled tree root. Luffy sneaks in behind you, rustling the bushes as he goes. You glare at him to be quiet, and he grins sheepishly.

"Sorry."

You roll your eyes, but don't answer. You turn back to the scene in front of you: a man in a hooded green cloak, crossing his legs in front of a campfire. By the time you all had caught up to him, the sky had already darkened for night. The traveler throws back his hood, grinning at the small bauble in his hand.

A shiny white star glows in the center.

You gasp, softly, and Luffy growls. The kitsune huddles back against the tree root, waves of anger pouring off of him. You turn to meet his eyes, reassuring him with a slight grin. "Don't worry," you whisper, brandishing your dagger by your bent knee. "We'll get it back for you."

The kistune nods, and hides farther back in the undergrowth.

Luffy grunts, and springs forward.

You curse, but chase after him.

Luffy flies at the traveler, all fists and teeth, before you dive in to steal the traveler's bag for yourself. He had stolen your sketchbook, after all. Luffy snarls, half-feral, with arms and legs both stretching out to kitsune claws. His ears are flat against his head, and his tails are whirling around in anger. The traveler lets out one, loud cry, before falling to his knees. He slumps over, defeated.

Luffy grins, and bends to pick up the shiny star ball.

"We should get outta here," he says, sparkling, "Before he wakes up."

****

You head back home, kitsune safely rescued. The orange fox-spirit had taken his star ball back gladly, insisting he now owes you a favor, but Luffy waved him away.

"Just pay us for it next time!"

You wished Luffy had actually asked for some money, but oh well.

Now, you're both seated across from each other on your living room mat. You shift on the tatami, steaming bowl of rice held in both your hands. You breathe in: delicious.

Luffy devours his rice in one fell swoop, sighing heavily as he leans back. He scratches his hand through his hair. "Good job today, y/n! Thanks for helping me rescue that kit’s star ball.”

“Welcome,” you say, scraping the bottom of your bowl. And then, “Do you have a star ball?”

“Duh,” he says, fishing the glowing orb out of his pocket. Your eyebrows raise, but you say nothing. He twirls it deftly in one hand, tossing it up before catching it again. It glimmers gold in the lamplight.

Crickets chirp in the night, and you stand up to head to bed. “Cmon,” you say softly, leaning down to scoop a now-fox-form Luffy into your arms.

He purrs happily, wriggling around in your hold until you dump him unceremoniously onto the bed. He curls into a ball on the pillow, snoring immediately.

You curl in beside him, and let sleep take you.

****

[kwebtv]

Inga Swenson (December 29, 1932 – July 23, 2023) Stage, film and television actress and singer. She appeared in multiple Broadway productions and was nominated twice for the Tony Award for Best Actress in a Musical for her performances as Lizzie Curry in 110 in the Shade and Irene Adler in Baker Street. She also spent seven years portraying Gretchen Kraus in the ABC comedy series Benson.

Swenson appeared in two episodes of Bonanza: "Inger, My Love" (1962) and "Journey Remembered" (1963) as Hoss' mother. She portrayed Gretchen Kraus, the autocratic and acerbic German cook (later head housekeeper and budget director) in the TV sitcom Benson. Her portrayal garnered three Emmy nominations. She was cast after appearing in a multi-episode stint as the conniving revenge-seeking Ingrid Svenson, the Swedish birth mother of Corinne Tate (Diana Canova), on the TV sitcom Soap. (Benson was a spinoff of Soap and shared the same producers.) She also appeared as northern matriarch Maude Hazard in the mini-series North and South in 1985 and again in 1986.

She appeared in many other series beginning in 1957.

IMDb listing

[libidomechanica]

“Their future she spake, I shunned the light enough”

A kimo sequence

               1

There he shore strict sense, as hath of my brain, its aim. Their future she spake, I shunned the light enough?

               2

Said thee so tickle of a poet, if twas certain springing, or to sex. As night to my chin.

               3

Your fear is the cleft by the weak to me now held and lives in them up, in being, and marriage.

               4

A disguise, when she had, a Mirror that. The halcyon days; unwrapping in their fill the gout?

               5

Let me go. Tis not murder-spot. Embrace, light as one mad. I dreamt rather if I can feeling.

               6

I have seen about the fire? If by us, the last strange songs, the soil hath beechen grudge me now.

               7

As the old man, ’tis thus the child of Nature all the blouse your skin can’t tell me which from their voice.

               8

There, his soul, were burn blue. White neck, with a sigh—it was crazy. ’Er-power’d in dreams there were like.

               9

A third, too, in azure mirth, so many scorn that has floating will. And the scorn to vex us?

               10

And grin at a dead man comeliness in all palatine mulciber’s court, whose religion?

               11

Sultan of hope, to this was the door, love, the shepherd-god. Mortal! And I will awake, and there.

               12

’Tis he did a mother’s crest shade more her mind. I am just Káfir than even chalice, drank.

               13

—The cave is so rare, the other, then, sick to die! Something out of such high soaring heifers sleep.

               14

Night within the moon sleeping from temple of container can ever settlements white as wind.

               15

Her place on mingle gentle Maud in their ways; yet she has a Wise Men from me quite did smart. Ah!

               16

Softer suppers for his hair black cable. A poor, love-begotten hand is safe arrive with dew.

               17

Why do you scorn that looks have I not less for blood? New and as honey cells for Cleopatra’s eyes.

               18

Being said You do us, Princes, ill- report. You lose musk rose people would rather to rest.

               19

Hers content; what the truth! It mean it not. For so I may something tongue; which you are no sinners?

               20

And there beating with her than not remember. All general of our old annihilates them!

               21

By, which how dark webs, here walk’d them. Of Adeline, all out with eyes the transfigure, showing rain.

               22

I have imagined for the maid? Do but feels right, and porphyry, and so for the purr of them.

               23

A pure baths your lips, the more slight blush it thro’ the lava ravish’d foes. With a wide world, and grew.

               24

To hold me no more can rejects. Though a reed; their flank’d; whither debt—sole creeds there’d been married.

               25

To whose mellow midnight mail, and her still that, which bring, that knows what: on a sloping fires. Her them.

               26

Whistle, and night; tis not lieth! My day prepar’d— the stately bask in her friends forlorn, my bracelet.

               27

Is, that in the one if she said, return no more. I am sure, or whereby your lowing dews.

               28

Great Solemnity. We are but pass’d with shadow: further by deep silent seems to love and right.

               29

Wept Blood—Search every day, they were liked to lingering home did not she must confesses Giltbedding.

               30

Happy mother, like prayer and that way, just when thou,—finding up. When I know eternity.

               31

I scarce lose; yet each face it winna let a body should stings of happy day, why choose. Their strife.

               32

Moon, trees old. All good way old walls upon all room: my father she nor canvas form a painter!

               33

And, seemed pale forests head, now for certain glisten’d, her feet. I don’t own arms and orbed in it.

               34

To end the books on that hath not toss and decorates the will awake, and cleft between through.

               35

Not end is the arrow was to be free. Watch out for us, a black e’e, yet she with a stand!

               36

The Sage marvell’d along, up in a world so sore ills, and vice. As the view any room I stood.

               37

Like other, less fleeces? Brought, and there. Poets, the tends to thigh. Be so involve in t the man.

               38

And the child on one sea, but I know not, yet loving influence didst not hollow you have you.

               39

’ May perhaps be well set for your forehead, when I have dined, a hazard. That golden pits: ’twas they!

               40

Roses ‘mid basket of late September. Doorknobs and ever, never lived with all spoke, Dudu?

               41

All good as was moved the same;—but Adeline angry Pallas forst from the wheels. And watched the task.

               42

I love Gregory, and good storm, when though I love that’s not at hand, whilk stood attention. May die.

               43

Are question—who can pass, by those than a very loth thou will I—nill I. And wha will surmise?

               44

Real as a Czar; and which, alas!-—So I shall I not ask them both! Her perfect it sound out there.

               45

Her head is scatter’d so; I must be but as a bonny ship, and when ever? Though the burn blue.

               46

Away! We leave me thus? Doth hide already, a morning the western blasts do roses—too base?

               47

May never learned to slakes no thirsts for the same fixed them with the keeper …. Bright, what out of.

               48

Something moment. When thousand bosom I ask me no more ingenuous whose gentle reader!

               49

White rush, into the foamy waves which might prejudice—for none of gold? Willow as idlers do.

               50

For it’s jet, jet black despair under you beware of the task. The Highland him, he have tarried.

               51

That females of The Fire of all the primrose they ought: of all come to you. He with oaths, fair God!

               52

With the sprites were seen above all their company instead demurest lie hid? Most the souls!

               53

What so loudly as to bathed to shoot. Lay down-sunken hour; we whispered: Take me this part, and stand!

[sskk-ao3feed]

A trip to Yokohama's school

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/M6N2aWw by Am_not_healthy ﾟ°☆☆° ﾟﾟ°☆☆° ﾟﾟ°☆☆° ﾟﾟ°☆☆° ﾟﾟ°☆☆° ﾟﾟ°☆☆° ﾟﾟﾟﾟﾟﾟ A group of ten students from Class 1A of UA, along with their homeroom teacher, were sent to APM, a mysterious school located in Yokohama. The purpose of their visit was to foster cooperation between the two schools. Upon arriving at APM, the students find themselves encountering a diverse array of peers and faculty members who exhibit unusually peculiar and potentially hazardous behavior. In the face of these unfamiliar and potentially dangerous circumstances, the Class 1A students must find a way to effectively collaborate and navigate their surroundings. How will they live (survive) this place in a month? Come and find out! ☆° ﾟﾟ°☆☆° ﾟﾟ°☆☆° ﾟﾟ°☆☆° ﾟﾟ°☆☆° ﾟﾟ°☆☆° ﾟﾟ°☆☆° ﾟ Words: 2029, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F, M/M Characters: Jouno Saigiku (Bungou Stray Dogs), Suehiro Tecchou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Kunikida Doppo (Bungou Stray Dogs), Fyodor Dostoyevsky (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nikolai Gogol (Bungou Stray Dogs), Sigma (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Ryuunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Gin, Mori Ougai (Bungou Stray Dogs), Fukuzawa Yukichi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Yosano Akiko (Bungou Stray Dogs), Ozaki Kouyou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald (Bungou Stray Dogs), Louisa May Alcott (Bungou Stray Dogs), Mark Twain (Bungou Stray Dogs), Tachihara Michizou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Tanizaki Junichirou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Tanizaki Naomi, Lucy Maud Montgomery (Bungou Stray Dogs), Edgar Allan Poe (Bungou Stray Dogs), Edogawa Ranpo (Bungou Stray Dogs), Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs), Oguri Mushitarou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Sakaguchi Ango (Bungou Stray Dogs), Fukuchi Ouchi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Ookura Teruko (Bungou Stray Dogs), Miyazawa Kenji (Bungou Stray Dogs), Izumi Kyouka (Bungou Stray Dogs), Elise (Bungou Stray Dogs), Hirotsu Ryuurou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Yumeno Kyuusaku | Q (Bungou Stray Dogs), Koda Aya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Uraraka Ochako, Yaoyorozu Momo, Kajii Motojirou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Kirishima Eijirou, Jirou Kyouka, Kaminari Denki, Asui Tsuyu, Iida Tenya, Other Character Tags to Be Added, Arthur Rimbaud (Bungou Stray Dogs), Paul Verlaine (Bungou Stray Dogs) Relationships: Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Ryuunosuke/Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Edogawa Ranpo/Edgar Allan Poe (Bungou Stray Dogs), Oda Sakunosuke/Sakaguchi Ango (Bungou Stray Dogs), Fukuzawa Yukichi/Mori Ougai (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Gin/Higuchi Ichiyou, Jouno Saigiku/Suehiro Tecchou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Fyodor Dostoyevsky/Nikolai Gogol/Sigma (Bungou Stray Dogs), Tachihara Michizou/Tanizaki Junichirou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Arthur Rimbaud/Paul Verlaine (Bungou Stray Dogs) Additional Tags: Crossover, Alternate Universe, The Author Regrets Everything, Weird Plot Shit, Help, Out of Character, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Why Did I Write This?, Parent Mori Ougai (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nice Fukuchi Ouchi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Parental Fukuzawa Yukichi (Bungou Stray Dogs) read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/M6N2aWw

[anapaualar]

Important Figures of Water Conservation

Several individuals have played significant roles in the field of water conservation, advocating for the responsible management and protection of water resources. Here are some important figures in the realm of water conservation:

Rachel Carson (1907-1964): Rachel Carson was a marine biologist and author of the groundbreaking book "Silent Spring," which brought attention to the environmental hazards of pesticides, including their impact on water quality. Her work is often credited with inspiring the modern environmental movement.

Chico Mendes (1944-1988): Chico Mendes, a Brazilian rubber tapper and environmentalist, was known for his efforts to protect the Amazon rainforest. His work included raising awareness about the critical role of the rainforest in regulating the water cycle and preventing desertification.

Wangari Maathai (1940-2011): Wangari Maathai was a Kenyan environmentalist and founder of the Green Belt Movement. Her organization focused on tree planting and reforestation, which had a significant impact on water resource conservation and environmental sustainability in Kenya.

Rajendra Singh (born 1959): Also known as the "Waterman of India," Rajendra Singh is an environmentalist and water conservationist who has been instrumental in reviving traditional water management techniques in India. His efforts have helped restore water resources and recharge aquifers.

Maude Barlow (born 1947): Maude Barlow is a Canadian author and activist who has dedicated her life to water conservation and freshwater protection. She co-founded the Blue Planet Project and has advocated for the recognition of water as a human right.

These individuals have made significant contributions to the field of water conservation through their research, advocacy, and practical efforts. Their work has helped raise awareness about the importance of water resources, influenced policy changes, and inspired communities to take action in preserving and conserving water for future generations.

[latinopiner]

When does battlefield 6 take place

When does battlefield 6 take place Pc#

When does battlefield 6 take place free#

When does battlefield 6 take place Pc#

“Battlefield 2042” is now available for pre-order and will be priced at $59.99 for Xbox One, PlayStation 4 and PC and $69.99 for Xbox Series X/S and PlayStation 5. EA clarified that new locations introduced during season content post-launch will not be locked behind a Battle Pass and will be accessible to all players. In the first year, there will be four seasons with four Battle Passes, four new Specialists and new locations, along with other new content.

When does battlefield 6 take place free#

“Battlefield 2042” will have a Battle Pass for each season that will include both free and premium tiers. The third will be revealed during EA Play Live on July 22, while the first gameplay trailer will be released during Microsoft’s EA showcase on Sunday. The second mode, Hazard Zone, is a squad-based game-type, a multiplayer experience that is “distinctly Dice but very different from All-Out Warfare’s Conquest or Breakthrough modes,” according to the announcement, and is not a battle royale mode. The maps will also be filled with dynamic weather, dangerous environment hazards and world events.Īll-Out Warfare will launch with seven maps (click on each link for images): Kaleidoscope, set in Sogdo, South Korea Manifest, set in Brani Island, Singapore Orbital, set in Kourou, French Guiana Discarded, set in Alang, India Renewal, set in the Eastern Desert, Egypt Hourglass, set in Doha, Qatar and Breakaway, set in Queen Maud Land, Antarctica. The first, All-Out Warfare, is the next generation of the Conquest and Breakthrough modes, featuring the largest maps ever in the franchise and matches with up to 128 players. “Battlefield 2042” will feature three distinct game modes, with two announced on Wednesday. What they’ll find is that we’ve built three distinct, absolutely epic experiences that we think they’ll love.” “All of us across DICE in Stockholm, DICE LA, Criterion and EA Gothenburg have had so much fun developing this game and now it’s time to let players jump in. “’Battlefield 2042′ is an evolution of the franchise and embraces what our players want – the ultimate ‘Battlefield’ multiplayer sandbox with intense combat and a ton of incredible, unexpected events,” said Oskar Gabrielson, general manager of Dice, in a statement. From left: Wikus “Casper” Van Daele, Webster Mackay, Maria Flack, Pyotr “Boris” Guskovsky Courtesy of Electronic Arts

[detroitlib]

Group of women dressed in Mexican peasant costumes. Alice Annette "Nettie" Fancher (1868-1949) is sitting in front of group. Stamped on front: "E.H. Husher, 236 Woodward Ave., Detroit, Mich." Handwritten on back: "Mexican Booth at the Detroit Floral and Musical Charity Festival, April 22 through April 25, 1890. Back row, left to right, Margaret Bull, Helen Gibbons, daughter of Robert. Others in group, Maude Dunn, Mabel Hazard, Nettie Fancher, do not know which is which."

Courtesy of the Burton Historical Collection, Detroit Public Library

[exauhstedsunflower]

Screams Of The Quiet

Tw:death (childbed fever guys), reference to the Thomas and Elizabeth thing, reference to beheading

Catherine Parr went out of the world screaming.

She screamed in pain, agony. She screamed as she fought through pushing her child into the world. She screamed in defiance to the universe as she felt herself slipping away. She made the world hear her, ‘I am not leaving my child! Not with him, not in this world.’. Her screams haunted the people in the room for the rest of their lives, one of the loudest, most haunting noises ever heard.

‘I am not done yet. There is so much left for me here.’ The screams of a queen, of one of the strongest women you could know. In endless pain, all she could think about was her Mary and how much left she has to do. Screw Thomas, screw her title as dowager queen of England and Ireland. Screw life, for being so unfair. She needs to make amends with the Tudor children. She needs to help shape the new era of their country; someone has to, someone that actually cares about those kids.

She needs to raise her daughter.

Catherine has so many ideas for her daughter, so many things she wants to teach her. She needs to protect her, now knowing what an awful man her father really is. She can’t leave her here with him. She thinks of her mother, Maud Green, who raised her as a single woman and taught many children. The woman who taught the great Catherine Parr to survive. She learned so much from her mother. So much she wants to pass on to Mae, and yet she feels herself barely holding on, getting louder with each scream in a desperate attempt at staying alive though pure force of will.

She’s gotten so much quieter the older she gets, it's a shock to hear her like this as she goes. Growing up she was loud, if the world wanted to drown her out she’d scream over the masses to be heard. She kept that up well into her adult years. Then she got kidnapped for being too outspoken in her beliefs, along with her stepchildren. She was more careful after that. And then, with Henry, she worked so hard to keep him happy with her. But her outspoken and argumentative nature got the best of her again. She was almost killed, and kept her opinions close to her heart after that.

Marrying Thomas had been like being set free, until it wasn’t. She was fooled into it, fooled into thinking he was a good and loving man. He got angry with her too. Never threatening to kill her, but angry enough to scare her. Angry enough to scare Elizabeth too, he hurt that girl. Catherine will never forgive herself for being too afraid to do something, to say something. When did she become too afraid to speak? Perhaps that's why she loves writing so much, the ability to not speak and upset someone close enough to hurt her. A cowards hobby, but protection from her husband nonetheless.

She’s been quieter, still outspoken, but more careful. And now, with the ferocity she’s been suppressing, she screams and yells every thought that comes to her mind. ‘I am not done. There is so much left. I hate you.’ That last one is directed at Thomas, who looks all too shocked to hear it as he holds her hand. She’s squeezing it too hard for him to let go though, from pain or fear or out of anger neither will ever know. ‘I need to see my baby. I need to see her.’ This is his fault. He’d gotten her pregnant, after trying for one in four different marriages this is the man that gave her a baby. She has no ill will against the child, no, never that. But she’s dying and it’s not Mae’s fault, it’s Thomas’s.

With one last scream, the loudest yet, she gives birth to a baby girl. They attempt to give her to Thomas and she growls that they’d better not. They hand her the baby instead. Her baby. She died for this, or is dying, she knows, she wants to hold her.

Mae is a beautiful mess. She’s fairly heavy for a newborn, and looks a lot like Catherine herself. Like Catherine, she’s also covered in her mother's blood, and she’s screaming too. The similarity is jarring, because one has just been given life, and the other is about to pass away.

She feels herself slipping away, as her eyes close she hears Mae and Thomas crying for her. The last thing she feels is someone taking her baby from her hold. The last thing she thinks and says is ‘I love you.’ She cannot tell if it was meant for just her daughter or for them both. No time to dwell on it as she drifts away, though. Finally, finally silent.

2

When Catherine wakes up, she’s alone. Taking a moment to get her bearings, she realizes a few things. One, there is no more agonizing pain. Two, this room looks to be a bedroom, but she doesn’t recognize quite the items scattered around it. And three, there’s no sounds of a child anywhere near her.

She must be in heaven. She certainly died, and this place is strange enough to make her look around in wonder. She stands to walk to the door, maybe she can find an angel to explain. Maybe she can watch over Mae and the other children from here. As she walks towards the door though, a blinding pain shoots through her head.

Ah, so the pain is not over then.

When she emerges from the sensation she notices she’s fallen onto the floor. And that she has some new knowledge of where she is. She is in the future, not in heaven. She’s been reincarnated, and the world has vastly changed. There are still some missing bits, she hopes she has the opportunity to learn them herself if knowledge is given through painful means in this century. She sits up from her spot on the floor with a quiet grunt. The pain has completely subsided now, hopefully it stays gone.

Her door opens and she fights the urge to scream in fright. She looks at the person who walked in. Truthfully they look a bit frantic themselves, so Catherine doubts that they’ll be of any real help.

“You must be Cathy Parr then! We’ve been waiting for days!”

Catherine just looks at this woman. She can’t bring herself to speak. She’s always known just what to say in dangerous situations, but then she’d known who she was dealing with. Speaking up now when she has no idea who’s listening is risky. She doesn't trust herself to say the right thing. She doesn’t trust the woman who seems to know who she is.

The silence seems to be off putting to her visitor, who attempts to fill it.

“Right, so I know this is probably kind of scary. You’ve been reincarnated, new body and everything-“

New body? She immediately looks down to her hands, noticing that they are completely different now. How is it that she has the same consciousness and not the same body? Who’s body is this? Where did it come from?

“-My name is Katherine Howard, the others call me Kitty because there’s too many Catherine’s. You make the third, we’ve been calling you Cathy. I hope you’re okay with that.”

Catherine eyes her warily, still sitting on the floor. Katherine Howard. She knew her. She glances down at ‘Kitty’s’ neck, noting the scarf. She wonders what’s under there.

Noticing that the girl is looking at her clearly wanting an answer, Catherine nods. She has more pressing matters to worry over than a nickname. Why she’s alive being one of them. Why Katherine Howard, who she saw beheaded with her own eye, is alive being another.

“Good! I was the last one to wake up. It seems to have gone in order of marriage. You’re the last one, and your room is right next to mine. The others don’t know you’re here yet, I heard you fall and wanted to check first.”

It seems to have gone in order of marriage. She mulls over the word in her mind. This means that the ‘others’ mentioned must be all of Henry’s wives, given Katherine Howard was right before her.

“Would you like to meet the others?”

She wonders what would happen if she said no. Would Kitty be prepared for that answer? Would she just leave her here or would she try to convince her otherwise? She’s tempted to say no just to see what would happen, she might have if she didn’t think her guilt over messing with the girl would be overwhelming. She nods in response.

“Okay, do you need help getting up?”

Oh, right. She’s still on the floor. With a shake of her head she stands, gesturing to her now upright body with a small smile. Kitty laughs a bit at the gesture and tilts her head in the direction of the hall behind her.

“Let's go then!” She seems cheerful. Not at all like someone who had her head chopped off.

As they make their way down the hall Catherine trails a bit behind, observing every little thing. She gets a glimpse into the room next to hers, which she knows is Kitty’s. A lot of pink. She’d hazard a guess and say Kitty’s favorite color is pink. The hall walls are kind of plain, a nice light grey throughout. There are seven doors, all the same brown color except for one, which is a lighter brown than the others. She taps Kitty on the shoulder and gestures to the door, looking at it questioningly.

“Oh, that’s the bathroom.” Kitty goes and opens the door, showing her the strange room. As soon as Catherine lays eyes on the strange objects inside, she feels a white-hot pain. Kitty catches her on the way down, and when she finally comes back to her mind, she knows what that room is for. She groans in frustration from the fact that this pain seems to come with knowledge.

“Yeah, that happens whenever we find something new. It’s honestly kind of annoying. I’ve only been here for a few weeks, so it happens from time to time.”

That sounds like a promise that this pain will pop up again, and though it comes with information, it is not welcome. They go down a flight of stairs, and into a room her mind calls the living room. Odd, though fitting. There are several sofas and chairs in the room. It seems to be an area for comfort. There is a fireplace and several tables, and a few lamps, which are fascinating.

“Holy shit!”

Oh, and people. This room is filled with people, too.

“Anne, mind your tongue, will you?” Another woman scolds from her chair.

‘Anne’ opens her mouth to retort, but Kitty intervenes.

“Now is not the time! Everyone, this is Cathy. Cathy, everyone.”

They all stare at her expectantly, although she’s not sure what they could possibly be expecting from her. Looking around the room, all she can manage is a wave.

“She doesn’t talk much. But that’s okay, I think I explained things pretty well.”

Yes, and also no. The only reason Catherine has any idea what’s happening is from her newfound pain-knowledge and picking up on things Kitty has said and inferring what they mean. But she looks quite excited to have been the one to greet her, so Catherine nods at her with a warm smile, getting the girl to beam.

“Alright, I’m Anne von Cleve, you knew me before. I go by Anna now since there is another Anne. Makes things easier.”

Anna, right. Catherine did know her. They were certainly not friends, but it’s nice to see a familiar face. They’ll deal with any past tensions later.

“I’m the other Anne. Anne Boleyn.” The woman who said ‘holy shit’ when Catherine arrived jumps into the conversation not even a moment later. She knows Anne Boleyn, knew her child. She’s unable to fully look Anne in the eye.

“I’m Jane Seymour, are you feeling alright?”

Jane died the same way Catherine did. She knows the pain that her death brought. And she brought about Edward, the sweetest little boy she’d ever met. Though she’s unsure why Jane might be enquiring into her wellbeing while hardly even knowing her, so she just nods again.

“Good, coming back from the dead is a bit jarring.”

She nods rapidly at that. It is jarring. One moment she was dying a slow and agonizing death, then she died. And then the next she wakes up, just, not dead anymore. The shock of dying hasn’t worn off yet. When it does Catherine hopes to God she’s alone to deal with it.

“Catherine of Aragon.” The woman in the armchair introduces herself.

Catherine of Aragon. She’s Catherine’s godmother, her namesake.

“You may call me Catalina. I’m glad you made it to us okay.” The kindness and surety in the words makes everything she’s heard of the woman ring true. Catherine of Aragon, the true queen. Catherine had tried to emulate her in her reign.

“Are you hungry?” Kitty asks. And Catherine realizes that yes, she is quite hungry. Her stomach makes a noise in place of her mouth, causing everyone to laugh.

“It’s nearly dinner anyway. Reincarnation makes a person hungry.” Anna says that last bit as a joke. But it seems to be true, she wasn’t very hungry when she died. Though maybe she was in too much pain to notice. Or maybe this body hasn’t eaten? Who’s body even is this?

Before she can allow herself into an existential spiral, Jane beckons her into another room. The kitchen, her brain supplies. It looks nothing like a kitchen she would see in her last life. She very carefully examines the various items in the room, wary of any influx of painful knowledge. It comes when she looks at the stove. Falling in front of everyone is a bit embarrassing, but they all seem to get it. Anna catches her this time, and leads her to a chair to rest. Once the pain subsides, she knows what all the appliances in the room do.

Interesting.

“Those are annoying, I’m surprised you didn’t scream. Anna always screams.” Anne says once Catherine’s eyes have cleared of pain and confusion. 

Anna defends herself, “Not everyone had a super painful death, Anne. I was just really tired when I died.”

Anne rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, and then directs a question towards Catherine, one that is not yes or no answerable. Also, quite insensitive in topic.

“Okay, okay! Well, how did you die, Cathy?”

Anne talks a lot, it makes sense this was her main offense against Henry. Though Catherine shouldn’t judge, she talked a lot too.

Anna speaks up for her, telling them childbirth. Then she tells Anne to be more sensitive, not everyone talks about their deaths freely. Jane looks very sympathetic. She would be, she’d died in a similar fashion.

The conversation continues around her and eventually she is handed a plate of food. She should thank Catalina for it, it’d be incredibly rude not to. It’s already bad enough she hasn’t said a word yet. As they sit, Catherine Parr opens her mouth for the first time in this life to speak.

And nothing comes out.

The others don’t seem to judge her, though. There’s a ball of anxiety in her chest and the feeling reverberates through her whole body. That’s never happened before, and she silently makes a decision that she’s going to have to work on speaking.

Catalina smiles at her warmly, like she knows what Catherine was trying to say. Then they all continue their conversation, making sure to include her as much as possible while she tries and fails to convince herself to speak up.

This is strange. Just a moment ago (Years ago? When are they, exactly?) she’d been screaming. Now she can’t seem to make a noise. This life will be spent in silence, so it seems.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from The Revelator/EcoWatch:

Maude Barlow was instrumental in the United Nations' decision to declare access to clean water a human right in 2010. She's also received accolades for her efforts including the Right Livelihood Award and the Lannan Cultural Freedom Fellowship Award. She's currently the honorary chair of the Council of Canadians, chair of the board of Food and Water Watch and a councilor with the Hamburg-based World Future Council.

In Whose Water Is It, Anyway? she writes not just about the hazards of water privatization but about proactive efforts that communities are taking to protect water resources, including the Blue Communities Project, which started in Canada in 2009 and has spread to cities, universities, unions and faith-based organizations around the world. Blue Communities commit to defending water as a human right, protecting water resources for the public trust and banning bottled water from municipal facilities and events.

Q. Beside corporations controlling public water or wastewater systems, what are some other forms of water privatization?

A. Water is bought and sold under water market regimes in California and other parts of the world. Water becomes privately controlled when a foreign investor, company or government gets control of local land and water in what are called "land grabs." In other cases, when water is bottled for commercial sale, it is privately owned and many of the wells and water sources used by the big water bottling companies are under multi-year contracts. Water is also considered a tradable good in "free trade" agreements and subject to the market disciplines of trade rules. Foreign investors can and have claimed ownership of water sources they use to produce their product in another country. There is a mighty contest taking place in our world: Is water a commodity to be put on the open market like oil and gas or a public trust and a human right to be guarded as a commons for all time? This has been the fight of my life.

[magicstarduckling2014]

Mildred: Hey guys, do you think I can fit fifteen marshmallows in my mouth?

Maud: You really are a hazard to yourself

Enid: And a coward. Do twenty

[quickwitter]

JBAD Day 2 - July 2019

6 months into 2019: half year check in

I’ve been chipping away at a mountain of debt for several years and have *finally* paid off everything, except my house stuff. I’m pretty stoked about that. [Cue universe coming with new and inventive ways to wrack up new, unplanned debt]. While I‘ve been paying off debt, I haven’t had any credit, so I'm just starting to reestablish credit again.

Good news: My Cancer follow-ups have been clean so far, yay! My next follow-up — which is also celebrating one year after my last chemo teratment, is later this month. Fingers crossed. Note: Hair is at Bea Arthur as Maude in Golden Girls style but heading either into an afro or going to drop and be at some awkward regrowth phase. Will keep you posted.

I had a lot of repairs done so I could then get my house painted, this checked off a lot of boxes on my homeowner’s to-do list. The contractor I hired worked from April into May. It cost $24K, yep, you read that correctly. $24K. I’ve paid 90% of the total in cash so far, all but the final 10% ($2,200K). The contractor stops by ALL the time to bug me for the remainder, which I do not have. I've been crystal clear with the contractor that coming up for ANY overage $$ was going to be very difficult for me. I wasn’t lying. Now his wife is on my case for it as well and I’m being tag teamed. My last payment to him was just three weeks ago, so it’s not like this is taking months and months. I’m doing what I can but I have to do work, bill clients, and they have a 30-day grace period in which to pay me. They rightfully, don’t care that I owe someone else money. BTW, I paid the initial contract in full, this is overage work I HAD to do: repair a leaking pipe in my kitchen wall/ceiling, replace a hazardous burned/damaged  line running between two electrical boxes in a bedroom wall, and removing a bay window due to termites.

It doesn't help that the contractor and his wife know that I’m going to Iceland. It isn’t a secret. I know it sounds crazy to be traveling while I owe someone money, but let me explain. I agree, it’s a rather ill-timed and hapless trip but I paid for it in FULL several years ago then had to postpone it due to surgery. I was wait-listed, the trip had an opening again in 2017 and I again signed on. I again had to postpone this time due to cancer. Again a position came up this year and this time if I postponed again, I’d forfeit all of the money I’ve already paid for the trip. So I agreed to go. The only out-of-pocket I’ve had on this trip so far is the round trip plane ticket. Once I get to the meeting site, all of my costs are already covered. At the end of the trip, I hope that a couple of friends will join me in driving around the island - which will help defray the cost. Otherwise I’ll be sleeping in the car and living on crackers and tap water.

The family trust was supposed to settle in May, it hasn’t. That was my potential fallback for both the contractor and Iceland. No word when/if that will ever happen.

Part of me has trouble believing that we're already 6 months into 2019, and part of me feels like this has been the longest year yet.

Political Moment - Lightsforliberty.org is protesting US Concentration Camps and the inhumane treatment of asylum seekers on July 12. They have over 400 events scheduled Nationwide so far, please find one near you and let’s work on getting these camps closed. Today a judge ruled that the Trump Administration can no longer arbitrarily hold ‘prisoners’ indefinitely without a trial.

NOTE TO SELF: I need to book more work.

[nerdyvixen]

What are your top five tbtp fic recs?

Oh, gosh, this is hard, and also I don’t know if the hyperlinks work because I’m a luddite, I swear to Maude, BUT, in no particular order:

1. The WHEN PANDORA MET OCCAM series by remembertowrite. Absolutely gorgeous prose. Stunning. Just makes me have to sit back and catch my breath every time I read it.

2. 100 WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU by ZombieBabs. This is one of my rainy-day fics. I’ve read it like six times. It gives me warm fuzzies like you would not even believe.

3. Speaking of rainy-day fics...A HAZARD TO STEEL, CAST IRON AND COPPER IN ALL SORTS OF VARYING DEGREES by Aproclivity. This one will always have a soft spot in my heart because it’s fluffy and cute and I read it when I was at a really, really low spot, and it made me smile when I didn’t think I could anymore.

4. JE SOUHAITE by coffeesuperhero. Sweet, sexy, and also these interns, though. I have Feelings about this one.

5. AND THE MOUNTAINS SAID I COULD FIND YOU HERE by elevenhurricanes. Bigfoot (maybe), wilderness, danger, Richard Strand running his mouth a lot...I made a lot of happy goblin noises when I read this. Bonus: the song the title is from is really freakin’ good?

BONUS: STAY WITH ME by Arriva. Stunning, so well-crafted, and realistically sweet. This one, if you’ll pardon the pun, stayed with me long after I read it.

Really, though, this is such an amazingly talented fandom, and I love basically everything in this archive. To be a bit moody, I really got into this podcast and this fandom when I had just fucked off out here to the PNW? I didn’t have friends or any kind of context for this place, but these stories helped me find it. They kept me going, honestly, until things got well enough for me to stand on my own again.

So the moral of the story is I love this fandom a lot, y’all are great, and everyone should read everything because y’all are talented af and I’m very grateful for everyone.

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 44

Blind rage washed over me, and my first instinct was to grab Luke’s phone and throw it off the balcony, as if doing so would make everything associated with it disappear as well. I could feel my eyes darting back and forth as my thoughts tried to force their way through the dense red fog, and out of the corner of my left one I caught sight of Tom falling backward into the wall, his knees buckling beneath him, and I realized that this, this singular moment in time…this was one of his greatest fears becoming reality. The anger drained from me, starting at the crown of my head and continuing until it reached the tips of my toes, quickly vanquished, and all of my focus turned to Tom, to reassuring him that everything was going to be fine. We had a plan, we were as ready as anyone could ever be, and we’d face it all, and handle it all, together.

Turning to him, I placed my hands on his shoulders and met his gaze. His pupils were dilated, his breathing much more rapid than normal. I spoke slowly and, I hoped, calmly.

“Babe. Relax. We’ve got this. It’s okay.”

He shook his head, breaking eye contact. “I don’t have this…I don’t think I have this…”  

I moved my hands from his shoulders to either side of his head and forced him to look at me. “You know what? That’s okay. You don’t need to have this. Because I’ve got this. I’ve got it for both of us. I’ve got it, and I’ve got you, and it’s okay. Full steam ahead, remember?”

He bit his lip and inhaled deeply, then exhaled, voice shaky but strong. “Nothing’s going to stop this train. I liked it, and I’m gonna put a ring on it.”

I nodded. “And wow am I regretting what I said on the plane right about now…”

Tom reached out and ran his index finger down the left side of my face, stroking slowly along my cheek, then my jaw. “Perhaps you’re a bit psychic.”

“Did you mean a bit…psychotic? Because that seems more plausible.”

He smiled, which indicated that I was free to take action. I turned back to Luke.

“Okay, assuming you’ve read the full article, what’s her angle here?”

Luke frowned, nodding. “She’s framing it as Tom bought her silence in order to maintain his impeccable reputation and avoid damage to his career but she now regrets ‘covering up for him’ and says ‘it’s time everyone knew what kind of person he truly is’. Her words.”

“Fucking seriously? That’s what she went with?”

“Correct. It first appeared on a Reddit thread she started, entitled ‘The Real Tom Hiddleston’, with links to the videos hosted at a website with an url that corresponds to the thread title. The timeframe when they were made is unspecified, so there has been speculation that infidelity may be involved, especially since she’s chosen to release them the day before the wedding. And…”

Tom interjected, his voice now strong and dripping with venom, fueled by righteous indignation. “Well of COURSE that’s exactly what she’d go with. And that will probably be the next shitstorm to hit the media, right, Luke? That I cheated on Maude? That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?”

Sighing, Luke glanced down at the floor, then back up at Tom. “It’s a possibility we should prepare for, yes. Believe me, I wish it wasn’t.”

Tom stepped forward and hugged him. “I’m sorry, man. You know that wasn’t really meant for you. I’m just…I…very, very sorry.”

Luke patted his back gently. “I know. And I’m sorry. This is…it’s awful.”

I left them embracing and walked to the desk, powering up my laptop as I sat down. They both turned their head in my direction, and I stared back. “What?”

Tom released Luke and walked to my side, resting one hand on my shoulder. “Are you…are you alright?”

Shrugging, I looked up at him. “Hell no.” He bit his lip, and I smirked. “But I’m going to channel everything I’m feeling into doing what I do best. It’s showtime, baby. And I am going to CRUSH. HER.”

Luke joined us, stone-faced as he struggled to keep his anger in check.

“Maude, you shouldn’t have to do this. Not now. You shouldn’t.”

Having to maintain some modicum of professionalism in the midst of something that was so deeply personal was a hazard that came with representing friends and family, and despite us having a plan in place, we had known all along that an incident of this scale simply had to be handled by one of us. Our junior agents, though very skilled, weren’t yet ready for the scope of…well, a scandal. That’s what this had turned out to be, really. An out-and-out scandal. And we also knew that though Luke had an important part to play, I was the one that had to be cast in the leading role.

I shrugged again. “Ideally, no. I shouldn’t. But also ideally, I’ve been down this road before with other clients and know the ropes. You…haven’t and don’t. So it’s just got to be me. Pull up a chair or sit on the desk, fellas. The clock is ticking, and we need to hustle.”

Luke dragged one of the wing-backs over and sat facing me, Tom opted to squat down at my side. I took a deep breath, then began.

“Okay. I considered addressing all our guests first, but I think that ship may have sailed…and we really can’t spare the time to do it properly now. So we’ll save explanations for after if they’re needed.  Luke, I know we planned on distributing press releases immediately, but let’s hold off.”

His left eyebrow rose, then both brows furrowed as he pondered what other avenue we could possibly utilize. “I want to question that, but intuition tells me to zip it and listen up.”

“Wise choice, sir.” He chuckled, as did I. “Here’s what I want you to do…talk to the business reservations manager, tell her we need a conference room or some other indoor space for 9 AM. It shouldn’t be a problem because they didn’t book any other events this week other than ours. Once you have a location, go outside. I’m sure the media coverage has multiplied by a factor of ten this morning…advise each and every outlet that we’ll be holding a closed press conference at 9:10.”

Neither of them commented, though Tom swallowed hard and Luke’s lips were pressed together with such force they’d lost their typical pinkish hue.

“Yes, I’m aware that sounds terrifying. But. BUT. It’s really a golden opportunity. Instead of just written statements, we’ll be able to speak, and there will be video and stills. They’ll have an opportunity to ask questions, so we can dispel rumors immediately. And, I’m going to give them an incentive. If, and only if, they run the story within an hour after the close of the conference and agree to leave us alone for the rest of today and all day tomorrow, they’ll be admitted to a fifteen minute post-ceremony, pre-reception photo opportunity. Just the two of us, in a location to be determined.” I turned to Tom. “If you’re okay with us pimping ourselves out on our wedding day, that is.”

“If you think it will afford us and our guests’ privacy and peace, yes, I am.”

“They’ll be getting two exclusives, and I’ll throw in that we won’t post anything to social media until the weekend, so that should seal the deal.” I frowned. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not something either of us would typically consider doing…”

He stood up, then sat on the desk next to my laptop, taking my hand in his and then kissing it. “Don’t you dare apologize, not for any of this. All the fault is mine, Maude. Thank you for finding us a way through this.”

I squeezed his hand. “You’re welcome.” Shifting in my seat, I rotated to face Luke. “I’ve got all the documents I need, so I’m going to start uploading them. Will you go hit the press? Not, like, hit them hit them. Not yet, anyway. You know what I mean. I’ll go over everything with Tom that he needs to cover in the interim. I think I just want you do corral the media and get their info, do the briefing, then introduce Tom, if that works.”

Luke nodded, rising to his feet quickly. “It does. I’ll go see what we’re dealing with so I can give you an idea of what to expect. Be back as soon as I can.”

As the door closed Tom released my hand, stood up once again, then walked around the desk and eased into the wingback next to me. A small smile appeared across his face, but the shine to his eyes told a different story…Tom’s default reaction to being afraid. Tears. I leaned forward, placing my hands on his knees as I met his gaze.

“All you’re going to have to do is read what I write for you. We’re going to do that right now, together. Your side, the facts. You will NOT be taking any questions. You finish your statement, and then I take over. That’s all. I know it’s awful, but it’s going to be okay. I’ll be right by your side the entire time.”

He bit his lip, eyes turning downward to stare at the pattern on the carpet for a good thirty seconds, breathing slowly in an effort to calm down. Finally, his eyes returned to mine and he nodded. “Okay. Thank you. You’ll be there, I can do this. I can do this.”

I stood, then bent forward to embrace him. He buried his face in my neck, and we remained as such, silently connecting, until I forced myself to let go and get to work. We’d been given a chance to get out ahead of this, and I couldn’t let it slip through my fingers, no matter how much I just wanted to hold him until everything else just faded away.

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

Tom and I stood outside the Chart Room, waiting for everyone to be seated. At least 30 outlets were expected, and Luke had chosen this particular space not just for its square footage…it possessed two entrances, one of them on the main hotel drive, the other from inside the hotel itself, which made it possible to allow the press access to us, but not the hotel or its guests. The door we’d be entering was closed, and would remain so until Luke texted us before he began to speak to the crowd. I was wearing a black cotton tank dress, and Tom had donned black jeans and a long-sleeved white button down. When preparing his statement, I remembered what he’d said back in March in LA when confronting Claudia and sought the recording I’d made to transcribe it. That, along with a few additions, made for a brief but impactful description of what had actually occurred…and, unlike Claudia’s version, we had proof to back it up. My phone dinged, and I looked up at Tom, took a deep breath and opened the door. We walked slowly toward the podium as Luke greeted the media and walked them through what to expect.

“Welcome. Please pause or stop any recording devices you have active at this time.” He waited for thirty seconds, then resumed. “I expect all of you to conduct yourselves in a professional manner and to refrain from interrupting prior to the question and answer portion of the conference. As we discussed earlier, this is a closed press conference, which means you may not broadcast any material live. While I accept that you may choose otherwise, I’d like to encourage you to be respectful to both Mr. Hiddleston and Ms. Gallagher when publishing articles relating to the situation at hand. Mr. Hiddleston will be making a statement, then Ms. Gallager, Prosper’s Social Media Director, will provide you with additional details pertaining to the matter. She will also be answering your questions. You are permitted to record and publish material from only Mr. Hiddleston’s statement, Ms. Gallagher’s formal statement, and the Q & A. There will be an off the record briefing prior to Ms. Gallagher’s formal statement, and she will advise you when you may resume recording.” He turned his head toward us, then stepped back, waving Tom in to take his place.

Tom felt uncomfortable with the idea reading what he planned to say, so he’d spent an hour memorizing it, though I’d insisted he bring my tablet along with the text readily available just in case. He set it down on the podium, adjusted the microphone, cleared this throat, and began.

“Good morning. Thank you for being here on such short notice. I very much appreciate your willingness to listen to my perspective and allow me to address the claims Ms. Heidrich has made. I met Ms. Heidrich towards the end of 2014. She was an extra on the set of I Saw the Light, and shortly after the director opted to cast her in a minor role, we began a sexual relationship. During filming, we did frequent sex clubs and engaged in what would certainly be considered non-traditional activities with other consenting adults. Ms. Heidrich and I also hosted other couples with similar interests privately, typically in my hotel room. Once the shoot ended, I travelled back to California with her, where we continued our sexual relationship until I discovered that she had been recording video and audio of our encounters with neither my knowledge nor permission. At that time, I made it abundantly clear that her having done so eroded all trust between us and as a result I no longer wished to be involved with her in any capacity. She expressed regret and, for the first time, indicated her perception of our relationship was that we were romantically involved, which differed from my own. I explained that regardless of how either of us felt, my decision to separate stood and I asked her to leave my hotel room. After her departure, I opted to return to London immediately, and before my plane even landed Ms. Heidrich had begun to harass me via phone and text messages. When I did not reply to those messages, they escalated from excuses and apologies to threats. She threatened to provide a detailed account of our interactions to my family and friends, she threatened to publish all of the videos she’d made online, and she threatened to ruin my career and make my life a living hell. It was at that point when I realized I’d found myself in a situation I wasn’t equipped to handle on my own and alerted my PR team, who called in legal representation. In an effort to stop the harassment, as well as to protect my family, my friends, and the various studios and organizations I represent and am associated with from the negative attention and potential loss of income that often results from the public revelation of personal, private matters, my team suggested that I enter into a non-disclosure agreement with Ms. Heidrich, and I willingly consented to doing so. I had neither seen nor heard from her until March of this year, when she attended the after party of the I Saw the Light Los Angeles premiere. Ms. Heidrich, without invitation, joined me on stage during a musical performance, and when the song finished she kissed me on the lips in front of my friends, colleagues and my fiancée. She then handed me a key to her hotel room and invited both me and my fiancée to join her for a tryst. It was, as you’d expect, mortifying, and though it was difficult to maintain any degree of professionalism, we managed to exit the party shortly after Ms. Heidrich did without drawing any undue attention to ourselves. I decided to use the opportunity to confront her face to face, so, with Ms. Gallagher as my witness, I did just that. I reiterated what I’d said to her when we initially parted ways, then told her in no uncertain terms that she was to never approach me in public or private ever again, and that if she did, I’d file a restraining order against her. Her response was to bring up the videos she’d made, first threatening that she’d publish them to embarrass my fiancée, whom she thought was not aware of their existence. When it was revealed that wasn’t the case, she then indicated that she would indeed publish them anyway. After Ms. Gallagher explained the actions that would be taken if any material was published, Ms. Heidrich responded by claiming she’d take action of her own, but when informed evidence existed which would prevent her from being victorious in that particular endeavor, she threw a highball glass at Ms. Gallagher. The object would have without a doubt hit her in the face if I had not pulled her out of the way. We then exited and returned to our own room, and decided to hope for the best…that Ms. Heidrich would finally move on. Today’s development is far from that ‘best’ we were hoping for, though not entirely unexpected. The timing is obviously intended to do the most harm…but rest assured it will not interfere in any way with our upcoming nuptials.”

I sighed, grateful that he’d made it all the way through, with the exception of the closing where he’d turn things over to me. A few seconds passed, and I thought he’d froze, but as he cleared his throat I sighed once more in relief.

“As a public figure, I have the opportunity to speak to a wider audience, and in this moment, I feel compelled to use my voice to draw attention to something that affects so many all around the world. Though I wasn’t aware of it at the time, during the second half of 2014 I was exhibiting symptoms of clinical depression, and I began self-medicating with alcohol to the point where I’d frequently black out. The behavior I exhibited during that time period was not typical, for me or of me. I don’t say that as an excuse, because I take full responsibility for my actions. I say it because I wish I’d been more informed about the symptoms of depression, I wish I hadn’t dismissed my feelings, and, most of all, I wish I had sought the help I needed sooner as opposed to later. There’s a stigma, a shame, still linked to any type of mental illness…one I didn’t even know I held fast to within myself. My own ignorance had a significant impact on my life, and what I wish to say is…if you’re feeling overwhelmed, less-than, grief-stricken, lost, angry, alone, anything that’s so powerful that it hinders you, who you are, who you try to be…tell someone. Make the call. Make an appointment. Get the help you need. There should be no shame in it…if you injured your body, you’d go to A&E. If your mind, your soul is injured…they deserve the same care and healing, do they not? Therapy helped bring me back from a very dark place, and taught me how to solve problems instead of trying to avoid them, or bury them. Without it, I don’t think I’d be here today, standing in front of you, about to stand tomorrow before gods and humanity and declare my undying love for and celebrate my commitment to the most amazing human being I’ve ever been blessed to encounter in this life.” He wiped away a tear from his cheek. “It’s okay to ask for help. It’s something we all need at some point in our lives, and it’s nothing anyone should ever be embarrassed by, or ashamed of. Thank you, again, for being here.”

He left my tablet at the podium as I’d requested, turning toward me, and it took everything I had to not break protocol and embrace him. Instead, I met his gaze and mouthed the words ‘I love you’ as he brushed against me on his way to Luke, and then both of them exited via the side door we’d entered by. We’d agreed he wouldn’t stick around for the rest, not only for his sake, but for mine as well. I needed to be in full on don’t fuck with this bitch mode, which would have likely been impossible if I knew he was there listening, and hurting. I stepped behind the podium, clicked my tablet out of sleep mode, and saw that Tom had used a drawing app to scrawl a note for me.

Your words are your scepter. They will all kneel before you. I love you. – T

I was unable to suppress my grin, so I used it as an ice-breaker.

“Man, I don’t recall sending any of you an invitation. This might be a Guinness world record for the most crashers at a single wedding.” They laughed, and I could feel that switch within me flip. “Before you begin barraging me with ridiculously intrusive questions, we’re going to play let’s make a deal. Ready? Here’s the deal. If, and only if, you run with this story within an hour after I’m done speaking AND you agree to leave us – Tom, me, our guests, the hotel staff, everyone involved – alone for the rest of today and all day tomorrow, you will be admitted to a fifteen minute photo and video session with Tom and me immediately after the ceremony and prior to the reception. The location will be emailed to you upon confirmation that the story was published before the deadline. And trust me, I’m going to check. Repeatedly. Because I want this everywhere. Like, right now. I’ll be sharing our path forward, I have information and supporting documentation and other goodies all of which only be available to YOU for distribution. Granted, there are a lot of you…but wow, what an incentive to be the, you know, first, am I right?”

More laughter, which I silenced by holding up my right hand briefly. “Don’t get too excited, because I’m not saying another word until you agree to the terms. Get this story out there within an hour, leave us in peace for the rest of today and all day tomorrow, and you get exclusive wedding couple coverage. We’re even going to hold off on posting to social media accounts until the weekend. So. If you don’t agree, please exit immediately. Remaining will be considered consent, and allow me to reiterate that I. WILL. BE. WATCHING. YOU. Also, permission is now granted to resume recording.”

I counted to thirty, and everyone remained right where they were, fiddling with their devices. “Mr. Hiddleston provided you with a brief summary of his relationship with Ms. Hedrich, and at this time I’d like to expand upon several points as they relate directly to our intentions in regard to her actions. It’s important to note that Mr. Hiddleston entered into an NDA with Ms. Heidrich on the advice of his PR and legal representation, and that his concern was not for himself, but instead for those around him. His team, though, was absolutely concerned about him…not only his reputation, which they were hired to protect, but for his safety and emotional well-being. Not only had he just discovered that his privacy had been violated by someone he trusted, he was in the midst of enduring a campaign of harassment and threats as a result of ceasing contact with the violator. Over the course of three days, Ms. Heidrich sent numerous text messages and called his cell phone two-hundred and sixteen times, leaving fifty three messages, each more bizarre than the last. She threatened to kill herself, contact his family, and publish the videos she’d filmed without his knowledge or consent on the internet. Mr. Hiddleston has in his possession the phone he’d been using during this time, on which all voicemails and texts remain in their original, unaltered state. I’ve captured screenshots and audio of a few, which you’ll be able to access with a link contained in an email you’ll be sent at the end of this conference.”

That got their attention like nothing else had as yet, and the room began buzzing with indecipherable murmuring, and I could feel myself begin to feed off their energy as I continued.

“You will also be able to access the non-disclosure agreement itself, which is obviously no longer valid as Ms. Heidrich has violated the terms contained within it. Quite spectacularly, if I may add. And, as you’ll soon see in the draft copies I’ve included for your perusal, she refused to sign on the dotted line until the settlement sum reached one million dollars.” Gasps and low whistles replaced the murmurs.

“Which brings me to…what’s next. Unfortunately, Mr. Hiddleston’s legal representation back in 2014 was not aware that what Ms. Heidrich was threatening to do was considered revenge porn, which is against the law in California and Louisiana, the states in which the videos were filmed. Had that not been the case, Mr. Hiddleston would likely not have had to enter into an NDA, nor paid out any sum in order to keep Ms. Heidrich in check, as the threat of jail time is often incredibly persuasive in and of itself. Now that she’s published the material she was contractually obligated to NOT publish, we will take action against her. In fact, this process has already begun. The hosting service she chose to use has taken down the website she created and moved all the content that was uploaded to a secure server. By their count, said content consists of 37 mp4 files. Reddit has agreed to remove the thread she opened after they’ve completed archiving all the posts and replies. Data from both will be retained for later use, as Mr. Hiddleston has opted to pursue criminal charges against Ms. Heidrich under both the revenge porn and invasion of privacy statues, and to file a civil suit as well for breach of contract. Be advised that the terms of the NDA were very clear and that Ms. Heidrich is now required to return the settlement compensation she received. All monies received by Mr. Hiddleston as restitution will be donated to a charity of his choosing. We anticipate having everything in motion by the end of next week.”

I paused, scanning the room, gauging whether or not I should ‘go personal’ again, as I had during my let’s make a deal segment. I knew they wanted me to…they always want that, the realness, evidence of emotional investment and, hopefully, pain. It’s what generates the most clicks. And then I remembered what Tom had written…and personal went right out the fucking window and I dove headfirst in the fray.

“Okay. Questions. Try to be concise so we can fit as many in as possible. One per outlet maximum. And when I say done, we’re done.” Hands rose in a wave. “Daily Mail. You’re at the top of my naughty list today, so let’s get your query out of the way first.”

There was snickering, but the woman stood, undeterred. “How long have you known about the videos? Have you watched them?”

I gave her the Frank Underwood sipping a beverage glare of disgust. “That’s two questions. Next time put an ‘and’ in between them and perhaps your inability to follow the rules won’t be quite as obvious. Tom and I first discussed his relationship with Claudia a few weeks after we met. And no, I haven’t watched them. Have you?”

Her cheeks reddened as she sat down quickly. Ah, another opportunity for a Loki-esque smirk.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then. TMZ, go.”

A man with long dark hair in a well-worn Ramones shirt rose quickly from his chair. “Ms. Heidrich mentioned the premiere and hotel meeting on the Reddit thread, and according to her she and Tom spent the night together…you were all staying at the same property, and he went upstairs to her suite after you fell asleep, then snuck back in before you woke. AKA, he cheated on you and you had no clue. Tom’s version of events is completely different. Which one is the truth?”

“There’s a reason why Tom didn’t go up to her hotel room alone…and it’s precisely because it was a perfect set up. Cameras all over the property, right outside the room to get him coming and going but leaving everything in between up in the air in order to craft a he-said, she-said scenario to which there’d be no concrete resolution. Which is why I recorded audio of the exchange in its entirety on my phone and, during the checkout process back in March, requested that the hotel retain a full 24 hours of surveillance covering both our room entrance as well as Claudia’s. Oh, right. I didn’t answer your question. Sorry. Tom’s version is the truth. Next, Sun.”

“Maria Fontaine, Ms. Gallagher. So you’re saying a recording of the exchange exists…will you be releasing that?” Her dark blonde eyebrows rose above the black rectangular frames of her glasses.

“I hadn’t planned on it, but the file just needs to be uploaded to the location of all the rest of the materials available to you. So, yes.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and held it up. “The original is still right here, safe and sound and timestamped.”

As I slipped it back in, a stringer from the Hollywood Reporter, one I recognized from previous conferences, jumped up and blurted out his question. “Was Ms. Heidrich made aware that you were recording her?”

I snorted. “I’m going to have to subtract a hundred points for not waiting your turn but wow, you’re quick on the uptake today, Cody. No. She was not made aware that she was being recorded. Yes, California is a two party state and I fully understand that I may be subject to criminal and civil penalties as a result of my negligence to do so. E! News, you’re up.”

Rising slowly from her seat and smoothing her black and white chevron printed dress along the way, a woman with black hair to her waist and dark red lipstick titled her head at me as she placed one hand on her hip. “Since you haven’t seen them, how can you be sure that none of the videos were filmed after you met Tom? Maybe he was actually cheating with her, if not that night in LA, then some other time?”

That took my mind in an unpleasant direction, even though I knew there wasn’t a shred of truth to it. “Well, the best way to analyze them is by evaluating his hair style, coloring, and body type. In order to play the role of Hank, Tom lost a significant amount of weight and dyed his hair dark brown. We met in June of 2015, right after he completed filming for the Night Manager, for which he bulked up, adding a great deal of muscle mass and definition. His hair was also shorter, and lighter. The difference should be glaringly apparent.” From the look on red lipstick’s face, I could tell she was super disappointed that her question hadn’t pushed me over the edge and into boo-hoo personal territory, but it did make me reflect on the very first question I’d received. The fact began to sink in that though I hadn’t seen the videos, a vast number of people HAD viewed them, and would continue to do so unto perpetuity now that they were in the wild. Folks everywhere were watching my very soon to be husband having sex. With people who weren’t me. Seeing him in the most intimate situations possible, receiving a torrid glimpse into what likely happened when he and I were behind closed doors. And probably getting off on it. My heart began to pound and I was accosted by a mild wave of nausea, at which point I knew I needed to shut the conference down, and quickly.

“Two more questions. Hollywood Life, your turn.” I was stunned they had a body present…their normal modus operandi was to make shit up. Said body was female, and, if I had to guess, an intern. Her gum cracked as she spoke.

“Aren’t you concerned about being with someone who’s had so many sex partners? Has Tom been treated for any STIs?”

Resisting the urge to flip her off was tantamount to not scratching a bug bite. “Ah, there are the ridiculously intrusive questions I was waiting for. Also, are you serious right now? Neither of those are anyone’s business. Take that judgmental bullshit down the road.  And if I see you’ve printed anything at all about either, now or somewhere down the line, you’ll be hearing from me. You may think that’s preferable to hearing from my attorney, but trust me…it isn’t.” Her eyes were huge, and she sat down in slow motion.

“Last question. Radar Online.”

Their reporter hadn’t even bothered to take of his sunglasses. “Will the wedding be postponed?”

I leaned forward, jaw having dropped open at his idiocy…but, thankfully, I realized only Tom had addressed that particular issue on the record and this dude wanted something from my lips he could actually use. “The wedding will proceed as planned, and we’re going to relax and enjoy ourselves with our friends and family. Like people who fall in love and get married do every day all over the globe. But with more Marvel character actors. Probably. Thanks for coming, everyone. Emails should be sent out within the next fifteen minutes for you.”

There were shouts, which I ignored as I grabbed my tablet and headed for the side door. Blocking my path was a man about my age, maybe a little older, perhaps mid-40’s, wearing a black t-shirt, chili-pepper print Bermuda shorts and black plastic flip-flops. His hair was light brown, up in a bun, and he sported a goatee flecked with grey. My stomach was roiling, and I was just about to shove him when I thought better of it, using my words instead.

“Can I help you with something?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Listen, I know you just want to jet and I’m really sorry to bother you, but I freelance for a lot of outlets, some of which are actually, you know, reputable. The New York Times has been asking me to do a story on something tech within the entertainment industry, and I was wondering if you’d agree to sitting down for an interview about your app. I saw it on someone’s phone last week, and downloaded it myself, and it’s incredible. Like, life changing incredible. Your marketing has been targeted mainly at studios and actors and PR, but it should be wider. Way wider. I’m Chad Morrison. Here’s my card, call me if you’re interested when things settle down. Best wishes to you and Tom.”

I accepted the shiny paper rectangle, trying my best to not puke on his feet. “Wow, thank you. I will. Thanks again.”

He stepped aside and I hurried out into the hall, passed by Tom and Luke, and darted to the restroom just down the corridor. I could hear Tom calling my name, but I was too preoccupied with barfing into the sink to answer. The door creaked open as I was on heave number five, nothing coming up by then other than what I was sure would be my innards. I saw his reflection in the mirror, and he gathered my hair into one hand, holding it back from my face, then began to rub my back gently with the other. I heaved twice more, and…that was that. Tom passed me a stack of paper towels, and I washed my hands and face, then turned around, my eyes meeting his, which were full of concern. I smiled meekly.

“Sorry about that.”

He frowned, taking my hands in his. “Are you alright? What happened in there? We listened, and…”

“Dude, you weren’t supposed to listen. It went fine, I just…it kinda slammed me, the idea that the masses are watching you fucking someone who isn’t me. But I think I’m over it already. Water under the bridge. Digestive fluids down the drain. And I probably should have had breakfast. Coffee is not breakfast.”

He pulled me into an embrace, stroking my hair as he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

I leaned back to look at him again. “It’s okay. Sometimes when I get overwhelmed I throw up. Like a two year old after a crying fit. Or something. I feel fine now, though. Actually, I’m hungry. Which is weird because christ, that was gross. Let me make sure the sink is clean before we leave.”

He kissed my temple, released me, then checked the sink himself. “It’s fine. Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “Yep. My brain decided that the solution to my problem was to realize that while there may be lots of people seeing you do the deed, I’m the one who gets to actually DO the deed with you, from this day forward forever and ever amen, so I win.”

“Your logic never fails to amaze me.” Reaching out, he took my chin in his hand. “I’m still very, very sorry. Thank you for standing there and handling it all.”

“Well, I’m a little disappointed that they didn’t kneel before me.”

He laughed, leaning in to kiss the tip of my nose. “Only because they were sitting, my love.” He released my chin and took my hand in its place.

“True. It’s like too lazy to get off the floor kneeling. Totally acceptable. Also, what you said, your improvisation…that was…it was beautiful, and very, very brave, and I’m so proud of you, Tom. And also ridiculously, totally, completely in love with you.”

A big, beautiful smile spread across his face. “Same, Maude. Same. And thank you. It’s been in the back of my mind for quite some time, but it never seemed right until that moment. If it helps even just one person, it’s worth it. Plus, if the world’s going to know I’m not perfect, they should know just how imperfect I truly am.”

“Thomas, I’m going to have to go ahead and disagree with you there. You are TOTALLY perfect.”

He laughed, a full on three gear ehehehehe. “Come on, then. Let’s get you fed.” He held the door for me, and we walked back to join Luke, and Simon, who’d arrived in our absence.

“Lets. I have one file to upload, then the first email can go out. By the time we’re done eating, the story should be spreading like wildfire. And after I send the invitations, this is going to be Luke’s problem until after the weekend unless it’s absolutely necessary for us to get involved. Right, Luke?”

Luke glanced at Tom, silently inquiring as to whether or not I was okay. Tom nodded, and Luke sighed with relief.

“Sure thing, Maude.”

Simon pointed at me. “Whatever Bridezilla wants, Bridezilla gets.”

I pointed back. “And don’t you fucking forget it, mister.”

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Composition # 8648

I there was under-lip.  As fatherly I kiss 

sedately; maud is not thou came  begat: they found method as 

an hourly read what  I proportion many and 

to gazette. As he  our own poor wag, 

thats young men abide, the silent  under-rate and fall? 

And so difficulty  being songs in 

the eare his warm hand  of the sultan 

of weapons, and that uttered  seemes but Half-lance what 

silent grove to entering  mine eyes are 

treated Things; When  hot for me, I 

always write, venture, a  small fair Cloe, how they looks, as 

children should be the  eyes; the wonder midnights. 

but by Thee, nor Beauty is  the cast mine and 

my comrades to endless a  slight applause, the 

hand, in the way I was:  love pitiful 

The learn the green silence  of snow a fragrant, 

bone. to Poverty—hospitable  to thee 

and a mortgage on  Humanitys shape. The 

Sage his wing and given,  was 

large. They never rue my trust the  tide, so I would have still 

have vowels, here all damps are  the Dragon from 

book you threaten; ah, my sight danger  and perils in the 

ashen greyness. The  Russian story? He bade me 

for aught, to thee, nor  snakes. Drink wine, begun 

to make too much more to  paint a siege, where 

even the pig who saw it  follow roused, the 

small lives sweetest has a  kiss sedately; maud is 

no man it be they approaches  may remain 

with rapine, a  hazard. So God and 

snow? Eternal Homers  distilld away, but keep the 

Dutch flashing willow switches  I broke their bacon.