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#Scottish defeat
vox-anglosphere · 15 days
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The Culloden battlefield at sunset feels haunted by Scottish blood
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andromeddog · 1 year
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may i interest you in whatever this is
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thoughtlessarse · 10 days
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A MOTION of no confidence in the Scottish Government lodged by Labour has failed at Holyrood. Party leader Anas Sarwar put forward the motion arguing it would be “untenable” for the SNP to “impose yet another unelected first minister” on Scotland. He said Labour’s push to unseat the Government was due to both a “democratic deficit” and the “chaotic, divided and dysfunctional” SNP. But a total of 70 MSPs voted against the motion, while just 58 voted for it. There were no abstentions. Alba's Ash Regan voted with the Tories, Labour and LibDems to bring down the Government. "The vote was purely performative and in many ways irrelevant," said Alba's general secretary. The result of the vote was met with rapturous applause from the SNP benches.
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miserycanary · 2 months
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DEFINITELY NUTS ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & model!fem!reader
synopsis: Ghost mentions you but 141 doesn't believe that he got a wife
tags: crack (well, attempted), fluff
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Ghost’s strict rules for privacy are something the 141 has known for years now. He’s not the type of person to blab about his personal life and often chooses just to keep quiet. So, imagine their surprise when he suddenly says that he’s going to take a day off because his wife asked him to watch a play. 
“Price, ‘am not gonna be here tomorrow. Got a date with my missus.”
All eyes are on him, everyone stills. “WIFE? Since when?!” Soap exclaimed, finally breaking the silence. His eyes were almost bulging out his eyes. “Never told you about her?” Ghost hums, unamused by the Scottish’s exclaim. “Johnny here does have a reasonable reaction. You never tell us anything ‘bout you, mate,” Price joined, chuckling and pulling out a cigar. The man just contemplates before brushing it off and bidding farewell, leaving the group confused. 
“Ain’t no way he’s telling us the truth. That man ain’t got no bone in his body to bag someone,” Soap voiced out, looking for anyone to support his disbelief. “I mean..” Gaz whistles out, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head as if he’s agreeing to some extent. That’s when, unbeknownst to Ghost, he got the reputation of being delusional and a liar. 
Soap, still doubtful days later, watches the lieutenant with a vision like a hawk. “Hey, lieutenant.” Ghost snaps his head up, looking at him. “How was the date with your wife?” Immediately, everyone else stopped what they were doing, silently listening. It was obvious he was baiting Ghost, emphasizing the wife as if putting on quotes. They weren’t as nosy as Soap but each one of them still held a bit of doubtness that the brick wall of the team managed to get a girl, and even marry her.
“It was okay. The missus had fun,” Ghost chuckles, fondly remembering how you were beaming on the way, rambling about the plot of the play. “Can we see pictures?” Soap smirked thinking he finally got the lieutenant but was taken aback when Ghost only shrugged and pulled out his phone before freezing. “Ah, we didn’t take pictures yesterday. Said she wanted to live in the moment.” 
Soap whipped his head to signal to Gaz, seemingly saying ‘See? He’s definitely lying! How convenient he has no pictures.” 
“How about just a picture of your wife?” Kyle suggested, now invested while Price seemed to be shaking his head in the corner. “I have none with me but..” With a few clicks, Ghost holds up his phone for everyone to see. Like birds, everyone flocked around him, curious to see. For a while, everyone was surprised and sure the man was lying. I mean, he just showed them a picture of a drop-dead gorgeous model from a magazine! 
‘He's definitely lost it’ everyone seemed to think, offering pity glances at the man who had this prideful shine in his eyes. Walking up to his superior, Soap patted him on the back. “It’s fine, mate… we understand how difficult it must be.” ‘not having a lady at all’
Thinking Johnny meant about your hectic schedule, he agreed. “It’s quite tough but we make it work,” he chuckled which made everyone wince.
‘Definitely nuts!’
Weeks passed after that and the topic never got brought up, until Ghost came in with a bento in hand covered with a handkerchief with frilly ends. When asked about it, he replied, “Ah, wife’s testing out recipes for an upcoming TV show. ‘S been practicing and asked me to bring one.” Once again, he was given pity glances and even heard a defeated sigh from Soap. 
‘He’s too far gone’
“How’s work?” you ask, dazedly paying attention to the movie you guys put, more invested in burying your face in Simon’s chest while he drapes both arms on your waist, completely engulfing your torso under his muscles. “Been getting a few weird stares,” he mumbles, playing with your hair and pressing kisses on your forehead. “Why?” you peer up, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I don’ know, princess.”
Meanwhile…
“Should we just… finally set the lieutenant on a date? I feel bad. I mean, he even lied about his “wife” making him lunch,” Johnny sighed.
“Probably the best idea,” Kyle nodded.
Now Price… he knows the truth. He met you before when you dropped by, asking for Ghost— which ended horribly— but he’ll lying if he said he’s not getting a kick out of this.
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: probably won't be posting for a while :] Did you guys notice the hint to my previous work? Please do. 😔
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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dante-mightdie · 1 month
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Viking!Soap who goes off pillaging, as one does in their free time, and comes back to Price with the squealing, kicking daughter of their (now dead) enemy clan’s chief.
Basically, “Look what I caught,” he says as reader kicks at him to let her go, to no avail, as she calls him a brute. He looks at Price like a dog bringing its master a bird.
god I woke up and hour ago to check my inbox and you guys sent in so many good ass requests i’m so proud of all of you
c/w: basically kidnapping, anal, stripping, dub-con/non-con, mentions of alcohol and pillaging, I can’t write in a scottish accent leave me alone
price had already settled down for the evening, his heavy cloak was slung over the chair in the corner of the room. his long hair had been taken out of the same bun he puts it in everyday, mousse brown hair falling in waves all the way down to his shoulders
he had planned on relaxing in front of the fireplace, nursing a bottle of mead but those plans seem unlikely now judging by the sounds of chaos approaching his tent. loud boisterous footsteps and laughter combined with high-pitched shrieks and cries
john knows that it’s johnny before he even sees him, that scottish brogue is unmistakable. he lets out a deep sigh when he finally sees the warrior burst into his home, a wound-up girl slung over his shoulder. price narrows his eyes as he watches johnny manhandle you, your back to his chest as he holds you down with his arms around your waist
“look what a’ found for ye, chief.” johnny says, a big grin spreading across his face as you kick and thrash in his arms, screaming your head off about what a brute he is, “stop yer whingin’, hen.”
“found?” price grunts out, taking a sip of the honeyed alcohol with a seemingly unfazed look on his face. your aggravated thrashes have calmed down to quiet sobs as you plead for these big, horrible men to let you go
“Anno ye said tae leave that clan alone, chief but ah caught this one bathing in the stream and knew ye would like her.” you can practically hear johnnys tail wagging when the apparent chief stands up and walks over to you, gripping your chin to examine your face before letting out a pleased grunt
“ye like her?” johnny all but whines, dropping you to the floor when the chief jerks his head to signal to out you down. you scramble to your feet, taking a few steps back and backing yourself into a corner
price lets out a small amused huff at your fight, downing the rest of his drink in a few big gulps. he walks over to you, your attempts to push him away are pitiful as his hands grip the hem of your dishevelled dress and tears the fabric in two
you squeal and weakly punch at his chest as he strips you down with what seems like no effort at all. your hands only stopping to cover your completely exposed body. johnny takes this as his cue to leave, turning on his heel with a defeated look on his face
“get over here, boy. I’ll let you have a taste after i’m finished with her.” price says, not even turning to look at johnny. instead keeping his animal gaze on your tits as he gropes them with his rough hand, “need you to tire her out so she doesn’t keep me up all night.”
johnny doesn’t need to be told twice as he takes his spot next to the bed, hand sliding up his kilt to stroke at his cock which had been hard since he snatched you up from your burning home
john grabs your upper arm and manhandles you over to the bed, bending you over the mattress and pinning your wrists to your lower back with just one of his monstrous hands
“please.” you plead, “i’m already promised to someone!”
price lets out a proper laugh at that one, lifting his spare hand and bringing it down on your ass with a thundering crack that echoes throughout the room. you squeal out in bed, pushing back your hips when his hand soothes over sore skin
“then I guess i’ll just have to kill him.” he grunts with a weak shrug of his shoulders as he shamelessly gropes your ass. this does little to soothe you as you soon start up your useless kicking and thrashing again. price only responds to this with another hard slap to your ass, “settle down. I’m not gonna fuck your cunt tonight. I know a lady when I see one. I’ll treat you proper on our wedding night, yeah?”
john uses his grip on your ass to spread your cheeks, spitting a fat glob of salvia at the right rim of muscle above your pussy. two of his thick fingers prodding at your ass before slipping inside. you squirm in his tight hold, let out a loud whine
he lets you adjust for a little while, waiting until your cries had settled down to soft sniffles before beginning to fuck your ass with his fingers. johnny makes himself known with his soft grunts and the slick sounds of his cock being stroked under his kilt
your soft pleads for him to stop are coated with cracked moans as he stretches your ass out. ha scissors his fingers inside, pulling them out when he feels little resistance. he fishes his cock out from his trousers and pressing the tip to the entrance of you
you whine and wiggle your hips slightly, your pathetic attempts at trying to get away do nothing to help as he grabs his cock and pushes himself inside you. his fingers couldn’t compare to this burn of being stretched like this on his cock
johnny lets a choked moan, throwing his head back as precum dribbles from his tip
“quit your whining, mutt. you’ll get your turn.” john grunts, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders as he begins to fuck into your ass relentlessly
his face is inches away from yours, the animalistic glint in his eyes is a sharp contrast to the glossy, subdued look in yours
“he wouldn’t know what to do with a wiley little brat like you, girlie.” he grunts in your ear, one hand coming down to rub your clit with his thumb. he lets out a loud groan when he feels your ass clamp down around his thick cock, “don’t worry, I’ll take all that fight outta ya.”
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psikhika · 1 year
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coming to the tipsy realization that i'm mostly just attracted to short welsh men named james
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Jack-o'-lanterns have such a grab bag of lore, i love it
Fire, of course, has a long history of offering protection from evil forces. During the Celtic festival of Samhain (from which many Halloween traditions originate), the veil between worlds was considered thin, and ritual bonfires reminded the spooks to stay on their side of the lane.
Many a lantern has protected the lonely traveler on a dark moonless night. But lanterns can be dangerous too—especially the supernatural ones. in certain folklore 'jack-o'-lantern' was another name for will-o'-the-wisps, atmospheric ghost lights (or as legend has it, lost souls) that appear above bogs and lure unwise wanderers into sinkholes.
Then there's the 18th cent Irish folktale of Stingy Jack, a mischievous fellow who tricked the Devil twice, exacting a promise that hell would never claim his soul. So Jack goes on his cheerful way, and dies (as humans are prone to do), and ends up at the pearly gates. Now Heaven, it turns out, doesn't want a damn thing to do with him. So Jack jaunts on down and goes knocking on the gates of hell—only to have Satan slam the door in his face! How this leads to Stingy Jack being doomed to wander the earth carrying a hollowed out rutabaga lit by an ember of the flames of hell, I couldn't tell you. But that is how the story goes.
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Whether the legend of Stingy Jack inspired or fueled or was created-by the gourd-carving practice, by the 19th cent, Irish, Scottish, and Welsh alike were annually carving jack-o'-lanterns out of turnips & rutabaga & beets & potatoes, and lighting them up to ward off Jack and other wandering spirits. Immigrants carried the tradition to North America, where pumpkins were indigenous and much easier to carve.
And so the modern Jack-o'-Lantern was born!
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Not that gourd lanterns were anything new. Metalwork was expensive, after all, and gourds worked as-well-as and better-than-most crops when it came to carving a poor farmer's lantern.
As for carving human faces into vegetables, that supposedly goes back thousands of years in certain Celtic cultures. It may even have evolved from head veneration, or been used to represent the severed skulls of enemies defeated in battle. Or maybe not! Like many human traditions, jack-o'-lanterns evolved over multiple eras and cultures and regions, in some ways we can trace and others we can only guess at. But at the end of the day, it makes a damn good story, and a spooky way to celebrate—which is as good a reason as any (and a better reason than most!) to keep a tradition going.
In conclusion: happy spooky season, and remind me to tell yall about plastered human skulls one of these days 🎃
srcs 1, 2, 3
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romanticintheory · 8 days
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now thinking about what it would look like if reader was betrayed by simon. i just wanna feel the excrutiating pain😞😞🙏🙏
nonny u read my mind!!
simon "ghost" riley x reader
-you meet him while you're shopping for new jewelry. your father, instead of celebrating your birthday with you, sent you a stupid amount of cash with the note, "happy birthday. get yourself something you like."
-he was always away for work. what he did, you never knew. your entire life, he had always been distanced from you despite his friendly, loud demeanor. it was like he was trying to make up for his lack of emotional and physical presence with his smiles and money.
-you believed simon riley was different.
-he tapped you on the shoulder when you were birthday shopping, clearing his throat to drown the nerves as he asked you which of the two necklaces looked better.
-you smiled kindly at him and pointed to the one you thought looked better.
-"who's the lucky lady?"
-"just my mum. figured she deserved something nice and i want it to be special for her."
-you both hit it off immediately.
-his quiet, observant demeanor was a breath of fresh air compared to what you had suffered with your father. he was always listening, keeping his eyes on you, or maybe had an arm around your waist when his attention was required elsewhere.
-he was also incredibly understanding of your situation with your father.
-"i dunno. i thought about having you meet him, but he's just always so busy and it always feels like there's no point in asking him."
-"he's that busy? what's he even do?"
-"couldn't tell you. he can't even be bothered to let me know what's so important that he has to basically ignore me my entire life. i mean, i love him, but..."
-"yeah. i get it."
-eventually, your dad catches on that you're dating someone. it's during his once-a-month call that hears a simon's "ow" following a loud thud.
-when your dad finds out it's your boyfriend, he insists on meeting him.
-"need t' get to know him, is all. especially if he's gonna be my future son-in-law!"
-when you tell simon, he gives you an encouraging nudge toward agreeing. it had been almost a year that you were together, and you were still apprehensive on letting the love of your life and the vague outline of your father meet.
-"he already knows. bet he'll keep asking until you give in, so why not now?"
-your shoulders sag in defeat as you realize he's right. so, you text your dad the details of a meetup.
-simon is oddly silent the entire drive to the restaurant. you assume it's nerves. after all, you can feel your own heart beating furiously against your chest.
-when you're about three blocks away from the restaurant, he pulls over on the curb. it's a dark night and all is quiet. for a moment, you think he's about to chicken out and propose the both of you just go home.
-he leans back in his seat and unlocks the car doors. he raises his hand as a signal and utters a single phrase:
-"don't scream."
-suddenly, the door to your seat is thrown open and someone is tying your hands behind your back and your legs together. the entire time, you're pleading, tears gathering in your eyes with a confused look on your face.
-as the last knot is secured on your legs, you hear a deep voice murmuring an apologetic, "sorry. nothing personal." is that a scottish accent? "ghost, price gave the good to go. we're ready for you."
-the soldier looks into your eyes briefly, nods back at simon, and leaves, shutting the door behind him.
-you turn your gaze back to who you thought was the one.
-"simon?"
-still, he refuses to make eye contact with you. instead, he opens the glove compartment and pulls out a balaclava and mask, pulling the former over his face.
-you can't read his eyes when he finally looks over at you, his expression now covered by a skull.
-"don't try to escape. we've got someone watchin' you, so we'll know."
-"why are you doing this?" your voice is cracking, and the tears are now slowly dribbling down to your chin and onto your lap.
-he doesn't answer you, just giving you a hardened, "i'm sorry," before taking your phone from your bag and leaving you in the dark, suffocating car.
-yeah. you believed simon riley was different.
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I've got McCabe
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Hi guys :)
So this is a request from here (never been so quick in my life) and I've never write with Katie before so I hope it would suit you all!
Enjoy :)
TW : Love fight, swearing, Nothing else I think
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Being Katie McCabe’s girlfriend is something you cherish in everyday life. Everyone knows her reputation on the football fields, and you will never deny the truth of this, but Katie obviously has good sides to tip the scales and drive you crazy about her.
Your little bickering comes mainly from her Irish origins of which she is very proud, while you are just as proud from your Scottish origins. You certainly don’t have a team as strong as England or even Ireland, but your talents have allowed you to be spotted by Arsenal for many years and this is where you still play today. Needless to say, where you met Katie.
For today, you don’t know exactly when your mutual teasing started. You have learned over time to respond to Katie when she starts teasing you, not wishing to leave her the last word every time.
The problem today is that neither of you seems to want to admit defeat. What started out as childish games is nicely being transformed into something else while a certain mutual annoyance is being felt on both sides.
Your teammates must have felt it, Leah grabbing Katie during the lunch break while you almost get kidnap by a Beth Mead apparently more than happy to show you pictures of her puppy. You can’t say that it didn’t work, you are literally a fan of this little cutie.
But after the lunch break, when the training started again, it only takes a little teasing from Katie to start again. And again, you don’t want to let it pass, there’s no reason why it’s always you who gives up, after all.
The limit is exceeded just at the end of the training, while Katie asks you to please go store her dumbbells with yours. Already having yours to carry and a ball in the other hand, you answer her that she only has to get up to do it herself. "Well, at least Ruesha would have done it for me." This one, it hurts.
You remain frozen a few seconds there before turning slowly in the direction of the Irish which seems to realize despite everything what she has just said. But Katie doesn’t add anything, just looking at you from the mattress she’s sitting on with wide eyes. "Fuck you, Katie" you mumble coldly before disappearing from the room. The idea of throwing the ball you hold in your hand on her head would have been tempting and you admit to having thought about it for a few moments. But you weren’t alone and it was out of the question for you to provoke a real scene with violence to the key. "Mate..." sighs Leah once you leave the room. "Wha' " grunts Katie without looking at the blonde. "That was a terrible comment" "Shut up" In truth, Katie knows very well that she has crossed the line and she is very uncomfortable. Hurting you is never her intention, she has always been very careful with her behavior with you, treating you like a princess on a daily basis. Except when she decides to test your limits like today. It never went that far though. Leah answers nothing, content to follow the brunette to the changing rooms to go shower and change. Katie frowns when she sees that you’re not there anymore and your stuff either. "She left. Alessia brings her home. And you’re definitely going to sleep on the couch tonight" Kyra informs her before going to take a shower. The information squeezes Katie’s heart, you live together, so it makes sense to travel together. But she particularly likes to see you in the role of HER passenger princess.
It’s with her mind elsewhere that Irish showers and changes, taking her time in seeking the best solution to fix things. However, it’s difficult for her to know what to do since she doesn’t know what treatment she will be entitled to once she arrives home.
Are you gonna yell at her? Ignore her? Are you even going to be there or will she be allowed a simple post-it on your fridge informing her that she just has to go to hell?
It’s not in a safe state that Katie gently open the door to your house. The living room is empty, but your sneakers are carefully placed on the shoe cabinet of the entrance, informing her of your presence at home. But you’re not in the part of the living room that she can see from where she is.
"Babe?"
Only silence answers her, which doesn’t particularly surprise her. You’re stubborn too and usually Katie liked that about you. But not today.
Sighing, Katie drops her bag at the entrance and walks a little further into the house. She finally finds yourself sitting at the kitchen table, apparently completely absorbed in your readings. Yes, because in addition to your training and games, you’ve been doing correspondence marketing studies. Just in case.
"Are you still angry?" Katie tries to get closer to you.
But you just answer her that a breath of the nose, without looking up from your book. If only she knew you couldn’t concentrate for more than ten seconds. You were really hurt by her remark, even if you think (hope) that she doesn’t think about it for a single second. What could be worse than being compared to her girlfriend’s ex by the principal concerned?
"Babe please, can we just…"
"Don’t fucking touch me McCabe!"
You jumped on your legs as she approached you, ready to put her hand on your arm. In your heart you obviously appreciated that she tries a reconciliation and that she tries to catch up, but it’s still too early for the moment. Your hands tremble with anger when you go to lock yourself in your room, slamming violently the door behind you.
********
"I don’t know mate, she seems really upset. She surname me!"
Katie walks around your backyard, whispering softly on the phone so you don’t hear her. She tried several times to knock on the door of your room but you never answered her, worse you even blocked the handle of the door so that she could not join you.
Leah, on the other end of the phone, has to admit that she is impressed by the strength of character with which you stand up to Katie. But Katie is still her friend and she obviously wants you to make up.
"At the same time, you compared her to your ex. Anyone would have taken it badly. I would have probably killed you."
"I know, Lee. But I can’t go back to the past, what do you want me to do?"
"Apologize?"
"She won’t listen to me, she won’t even let me in the same room as her."
"The good news is she didn’t strangle you" Leah comments with amusement.
"Not yet" answers Katie with a gloomy air.
"Let her calm down a little and in the meantime prepare an apology in good form"
"What do you mean?" asks Katie, mechanically looking up at your bedroom.
"Go get her some flowers, make her a candlelight dinner… what you know will please her."
"I have another idea" ended up answering Katie after a few seconds of reflection.
********
The night has fallen for a little while when almost timid blows are again thrown against the door of your bedroom. You sigh as you hear Katie’s voice rise from behind the door.
"I know you’re still very angry with me, but can you meet me at the livingroom please?"
You roll your eyes without answering, sitting on your side, back to the door. Now that the anger has dissipated, you realize that you were also hurt by the Irish comment. So you decide not to go. At least that was before you got a message on your phone.
Katie 🍀❤️ Baby please?
You let out a big sigh before you get out of bed. With your hands in yours (Katie’s) training pockets and your face frown, you finally leave your room. After moving the chair you had placed under the handle so that she could not enter.
When she hears your bedroom door open, Katie almost teleports to you.
"Can you close your eyes?"
"I’m not in the mood, Katie" you grumble in a low voice.
"Please" she whines.
You stare at her for a few seconds before sighing again and obeying. You let her take both hands to train you to the living room, stopping in the free passage left by the two sofas installed in the living room. Without letting go of your hands, Katie whispers
"You can open them"
You blink twice to regain clear vision and remain speechless in front of what was previously your living room. Katie installed cozy plaids and cushions on the sofa, she lit your fireplace and decorated the room with many Harry Potter goodies. You’re a fan of it, defending your house, Ravenclaw. Needless to say, the one you share your life with is from another house, which you confirmed when you forced her to take the test. Needless to say which one. (Slytherin)
On the coffee table Katie prepared bowls with several snacks and cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Everything looks like one of those photos that are on Instagram. Well, almost. Because in these photos, there’s not Katie McCabe looking at you with as much apprehension as if you were a bomb ready to explode.
"I’m sorry I was stupid like that and I hurt you. I didn’t think about it and you have no idea how much I blame myself. I should never have said that when I haven’t thought about my ex in forever and even less since we’ve been together. I mean, of course we see each other when we’re training on the national team, but that’s it. She has nothing to do with you. I’m so sorry, Baby, I swear."
Katie rambles a little bit and you get to see the nervousness behind her clumsy speech. And it makes you feel terribly tender. Realizing that she still has your hands in hers, Katie gently pulls on it to draw you a little closer to her.
"I’m not just angry. What you said is hurtful, too, Kat."
"I know" she whispers, dropping one of your hands and putting hers gently under your chin. "But I don’t mean a word of it. No one can match you."
Your gaze in her blue eyes is enough to convince you of her sincerity and despair at the idea that you may not forgive her. It’s that side of Katie that you fell in love with as well, that part that she shows almost nobody. Katie is a loyal and attentive friend, which people know as well. But she is also a tender woman who enjoys cuddling with her girlfriend. You.
"I love you so much" she adds after a few seconds, pressing her forehead against yours. "Please, forgive me."
"Okay" you end up answering softly.
Her smile is so great of joy and relief that you can’t help but smile back.
"But on condition that we watch the first film" you add, pointing to the television with a nod.
"Anything you want."
Katie hurries to make you settle into the couch, perhaps doing a little too much by hurrying to bring a stool so that you can put your feet on it. But you let her, amused by her behavior. She then runs to dim the light in the living room, hands you a cup of hot chocolate and a glass of water if « the chocolate is too chocolate ». She tenderly wraps you in a plaid, asking if you want a cushion and arranges the food bowls so that you have everything near you.
"Are you missing something?" Katie asks, looking closely around her.
"Yes" you answer with a smile.
"What?"
"You."
Bowing an eyebrow, you lift a corner of the blanket in which you are wrapped so that she comes to settle next to you. What she does smiling, even accepting that you shift to allow her too to put her feet on the stool with you. After making sure again that you didn’t miss anything, Katie launches the film and you gently lean your head on her shoulder when she puts her arm around yours.
Ten good minutes passed when you look up at Katie’s face, lit by the lights of the television.
"Babe?" you call her gently, making her look off the screen.
"Yes?"
"I love you too."
A soft smile is born on her face and you would swear that it will remain there until the end of the evening. Including when she leans over you to kiss you right now, then every other time during the movie.
Katie McCabe may be a fool, but she’s your fool.
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So… Katie McCabe is a Slytherin, what do you think? 😂
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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months
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hi i just want to say you do absolutely amazing work and i love it i was wondering if you could do a matt or chris one shot where the reader just hasn’t been doing well with stress and their anxiety acting up cause something really important to them is soon and they help comfort reader and take readers mind off of it till the day of. i have a theater performance next week and im really anxious about it and this would really help thank you and i hope you have a good day
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I'll Look After You (Matthew Sturniolo)
contains: stressed out reader, mentions of anxiety and insecurity, fluff, kissing, bf!matt to the rescue, 1.k words
a/n: hi anon. i wanted to get to this request asap because i've definitely been there before. i hope this helps you even a little bit. i know you'll kill it. love uuuuu
“Could beauty, my lord, have better…Fuck! Line.” I say running my hand roughly through my hair in frustration.
It’s the night before my debut in Hamlet, a play I’ve been in love with since seventh grade, and somehow I’m managing to forget all of my lines. Even after all the weeks of rehearsals and notes, I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’m playing Ophelia. Well, I will be if I can get my shit together.
Matt sits at the table watching me intently as I pace back and forth in his kitchen. “I think you’re hitting a wall, baby. Maybe you should take a break.”
“I don’t have time for a break! Line.” I snap, pulling my bottom lip into my mouth and chewing nervously.
He narrows his eyes at my tone but continues to read. “Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?”
I repeat the line and he answers with Hamlet’s. We continue back and forth for a few lines before I stumble again. “You were not deceived.” I cringe, knowing the line is wrong before Matt speaks.
"I was the most deceived.” He corrects softly and I groan in defeat.
“God, I’m an idiot. This is all my fault! I was reading The Scottish Play before rehearsals today and now I’m cursed! I didn’t even say the damn thing out loud.” I gesture wildly at where the book sits open near Matt.
His face screws up in confusion. “What does Macbeth have to-”
“Matt! Are you crazy? Don’t tempt the witches!”
“Have you lost-” He takes a deep breath and regains composure. “Take a seat, baby.”
I begrudgingly drop down into the chair across from him, tapping my fingers restlessly on the table.
“What are you so afraid of?” Matt asks gently, nudging my foot under the table.
At the question, all my insecurities flood back up. I don’t know how to tell him that I’ve never thought of myself as a lead before. Don’t know how to make him understand how deeply I want to see whatever my director saw in me at auditions. So instead I try for something simpler. “What if I’m not good enough?”
“You are.” He answers without a second of hesitation.
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “You’re just saying that because you’re in love with me.”
“Give them five minutes of watching you on stage and everyone in that theater will be too.”
I want to believe him but how can that be true if I can’t even remember my lines? I drop my head down on the table, pressing my face to the cool wood and closing my eyes.
Matt reaches his hand across the table and smooths a thumb over my wrist. “C’mon. Take a drive with me.”
I look up at his kind smile, tears welling in my eyes. “No, Matt. I can do it. I can get past this block.”
He comes around the table and kneels beside the chair, turning me to face him. “I know.” He pulls me into his arms and places a kiss on the side of my head. “Come with me anyway.”
**************
We drive to In and Out and park in a random parking lot, listening to the quiet sound of drizzle hitting the van. Matt’s been unusually chatty since we headed out, feeling the silence I would usually take up while he nods along.
He starts to tell me what to do if I encounter different types of bears and I can’t help but laugh at his delivery.
When he’s finished, I sit back and stare out the window at the dark clouds. But when I feel Matt’s eyes on me, I turn back to meet his gaze. “What?”
He leans closer to me, his eyes soft and open. “I just want to know that you,” he starts, his tone straight out of a romance movie. “have some grease on your nose. You should probably get that off.”
I laugh and wipe my nose, flipping him off. “Oh, all of a sudden, you got jokes?”
We settle into a comfortable silence and Matt grabs his phone to pick a new song as Frank Ocean fades out. When I hear the beginning notes of my favorite The Fray song, I grin over at him.
“I thought you didn’t like them and think they sing in cursive?” I tease as he turns the song up a bit.
“I’ve reconsidered. Dance with me?”
“It’s raining! We’ll get soaked.”
“Dance with me anyway.”
I grin as I fling my door open and meet him at the front of the car. I lock my arms around his neck as he pulls me in by the waist.
🎶‘when i’m losing my control the city spins around, you’re the only one who knows to slow it down’🎶
Matt pulls me closer to him, our bodies flush, as we sway back and forth. He presses quick kisses to the side of my head and I giggle as he nuzzles his face into mine. He swings me out so he can clumsily pull me back to him and we both burst into laughter.
🎶‘you’ve begun to feel like home’🎶
We spin around now, completely offbeat, the water on the ground around us splashing up and soaking us even more.
He wraps his arms back around my waist as the song begins to fade out, still holding me close. I open my mouth to make a joke about it ending when I hear the drums of Taylor Swift’s Lover.
I pull back and stare at him in incredulity and he shrugs. “It’s your playlist.” And my heart takes off like a rocket ship.
I reach up and press my lips to his, a gentle kiss that turns more passionate as I try to fill it with as much love as I feel right now. When I pull away, he licks his lips, his face a deep and satisfied red. “I love you.” He whispers.
“This is the very ecstasy of love,” I reply with a grin. Not my line, per se, but close enough.
And as Matt leans down and closes the space between us again, I feel the block around Ophelia’s lines loosen. But how could it not with a muse like this.
🏷️: @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos
@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @rootbeerworshiper @st4rswrld @leah-loves-lilies
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i-like-media · 4 months
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I imagine Donna to still eventually ask what the doctor has been up to. Maybe she does so while they're stuck doing a chore together like the laundry or dishes. And the doctor will try to avoid it like he always does, but caves under Donna's stare. He'd still keep it vague, speaking more about the companions the toymaker spoke of and cautiously daring to honour their memory like that while keeping himself away from the hurtful bits. He even jokes a bit about who he ended up becoming. He'd admit he had an obsession with bowties and had sonic sunglasses once, and Donna would laugh and say she'd LOVE to see that.
Then, after a pause, Donna asks if he's ever stumbled upon her with a different face, and with a hushed breath he admits he hasn't.
She grows a bit silent, grieving a thought she wished were reality. And then the doctor pipes up again.
"This isn't actually the first familiar face I've gotten...-WELL not another one of my OWN faces, but certainly something familiar."
Intrigued, Donna stops what she's doing and listens to him explain further.
"When I first got it I couldn't place where I'd gotten it from. I just, knew it was familiar...... -I didn't linger on it as long as I should've and I moved on rather quickly."
"Why?" Donna asked, a bit bewildered at the thought of it.
"I was careless and angry and sort of... Scottish.-ANYways one day me and Clara were dragged to this viking village that had gotten itself into trouble, and we helped them. But this village girl had, uhm... Well she didn't make it. I was so angry -I remember that anger really well. And Clara kept on asking if there was something I could do..."
"Well, was there?" By now both of them weren't doing their chores anymore and all they could hear was the singing of a couple of starlings outside.
"...Yes, but it would've broken some rules."
Donna already knew what exactly he meant by that. She would figure that's the end of it, yet the doctor kept on talking.
"But then as I was rotting in my defeat, I remembered this important day I shouldn't ever have forgotten. The day we were in Pompeii... And only then did I realise that face, MY face, was a reminder of something very important you told me. To just, save someone."
"...So you mean, your face..." The doctor nodded, and Donna couldn't help but finally release the breath she'd been holding with a smile.
"I did save her and she ended up living a long, long, longlonglonglonglong life... But even after hundreds of years, when I doubted myself and needed it most, Donna Noble... Your impact on the world and my life, persisted."
And I imagine the doctor to give her a big, proud smile, before Donna pulls him in for a big hug he wasn't expecting to receive. Because maybe, just maybe, that was exactly what she needed to hear that day.
Then once they return to their chores, I imagine Donna to think about it a bit longer and make a comment. "Well you better never take on my face!" And the doctor would dissolve into a pouty ramble about how he has no control over it while also being a bit disappointed she's said no.
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vox-anglosphere · 1 year
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Culloden Field was the last battle on British soil.. also the bloodiest
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wanderingsorcerer · 10 months
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APPALACHIAN FOLKLORE 101
Appalachia has a rich history in the united states, which goes farther back than most tend to give it credit for. The Appalachian mountains are millions of years old, and humans have only lived in the region for 16,000 years or so, which means the mountains are bound to hold some mysteries and legends.
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Many of these stories, and folk practices originate from the Native Americans, specifically Cherokee, and are mixed in with the superstitions brought over from the old world specifically English, Irish, and Scottish. As well as the practices brought over from the African Continent During the Slave Trade. The Native population assisted the early settlers in Appalachia with ways to survive the area, grow food, and even forage for one of Appalachia's staple foods, RAMPS!!!
Let's delve into the history of Appalachian Folklore and the origins of everyone's favorite stories.
Cryptids and Myths
This is one of the most famous aspects of Appalachian folklore and one which outsiders know the most about, Appalachian Myths and their Cryptids that follow. Below I will go over a few of the more famous ones, which many have learned about, either second-hand or through living in the area.
The Moon-Eyed People
There was a group of humanoids called the Moon-Eyed People, who were short, bearded, and had pale skin with large, bright eyes. They were completely nocturnal due to their eyes being extremely sensitive to light. Although not mythical, they were considered a separate race of people by some. The tribes viewed them as a threat and forced them out of their caves on a full moon night. They were said to have scattered to other parts of Appalachia as the moon’s light was too bright for their eyes. There are some early structures that are believed to be related to the Moon-Eyed People, dating back to 400 BCE. Some theories suggest that they were early European settlers who arrived much before Columbus discovered the Americas. Other theories suggest they were people who had Albanism.
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Image of The Moon Eyed People Statues in Murphy, North Carolina
Spearfinger
Spearfinger is a Cherokee legend of a shapeshifting, stone-skinned witch with a long knife in place of one of her fingers. She often was described as an old woman, which she would take the form of to convince Cherokee children that she was their grandmother. She would sit with them, brush their hair until they fell asleep, and then kill them with her “spear finger.” She had a love of human livers which she would extract from the bodies of those she killed. It was said she left no visible scars on her victims. She carried her own heart in her hand to protect it, as it was her one weakness. As the legend goes, she was captured and defeated with the help of several birds that carried the information to defeat her. Though she has been destroyed, sometimes you can hear her cackles and songs throughout the mountains. 
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Image of SpearFinger Cherokee Legend
W*ndigo
This spirit is said to go to where its name is called allowed so since most of us already know the name I won't be writing it out in completion. So out of respect for some of our native readers, it will remain censored
The W*ndigo is a creature, sometimes referred to as an evil spirit, that is said to be 15 feet tall with a body that is thin, with skin pulled so tight that its bones are visible. Many native legends view it as a spirit of greed, gluttony, and insatiable hunger. It is a flesh-eating beast that is considered most active during the colder months, and its presence is easily felt and smelt. It has been described as having a distinct smell of rot and decay due to its skin being ripped and unclean. It produces an overwhelming urge of greed and insatiable want. Most notably, it is not one to chase or seek after its prey; instead, it uses its terrifying mimicry skill. It often mimics human voices, screams, loved ones, or anything that might entice its victim to come to it. In some cases, it is believed the W*ndigo is a spirit that can possess other humans and fill them with greed and selfishness, turning them into W*ndigos as well.  
Appalachian Folk Practices
Many of the common Appalachian folk practices stem from things the Native Americans and Enslaved Africans taught them mixed in with cultural practices from Europe. Here I will go over some of the most common practices done by the Appalachian people
Water Dowsing
water dowsing is a practice that has been done for hundreds of years in many different cultures. This practice was brought over by the European settlers and was how many people of the time found where to dig for their water. The practice itself is simple in nature, you take a forked branch from a tree and hold it in both hands and walk around once the stick points down due to the electromagnetic current that's where you dig your well.
this isn't exactly the best way to find water but many people still do it to this day.
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Image of Someone Using A Dowsing Rod
Bottle Trees
This practice originated in the Congo area of Africa, in the 9th century A.D. brought to America by the slave trade, in the 17th century. Bottle Trees, were popular in the American South and up into Appalachia, the spirits are said to be attracted to the blue color of the bottles, and captured at night, then when the sun rises it destroys the evil spirits.
This is still practiced in the modern era by many Appalachian Folk Practitioners
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Image Of Bottle Trees
SIN EATING
This practice originates from the Ancient Greeks and Egyptians, it branched to many different cultures and has been practiced since antiquity by many Christian and Catholic tribes. And later making its way to America via immigration. The process was once a profession in Appalachia, in which food was placed on or near the deceased and a person dressed in all black would eat the food absolving the dead of all of their earthly sins. This essentially cemented their ability to get into heaven. The practice while sparsely done any more as a profession, it can still be found in many peoples funeral services to this day around the world.
Many cultures still do this practice and the sin eaters usually choose to hide their identity as the practice is seen as taboo to this day.
Popular Herbs To Forage In Appalachia Folk Practices
Wild Leeks or RAMPS!!!
Allium tricoccum, are a species of wild onion native to North America. They are a delicacy, and hold a special place in the hearts of many Appalachians. Native Americans such as the Cherokee ate the plant and used it medicinally for a variety of purposes including as a spring tonic. Early European settlers learned how to Forage from the Indigenous People and continued to eat and use ramps medicinally. Ramps provide many nutrients and minerals and historically have been used to nourish people after harsh winters.
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*RAMPS poisoness Look Alike
False hellebore (Veratrum) is a highly poisonous plant that can be mistaken for a prized wild edible, the wild leek, or ramp (Allium tricoccum)
Chicken of the Woods
Laetiporus sulphureus. Chicken of the woods is a sulphur-yellow bracket fungus of trees in woods, parks and gardens. They are delicious and are loved by many foragers, Native Americans, and Appalachians alike. The Native Americans taught the early settlers that these were edible and have been a favorite ever since. Chicken of the Woods is most likely to be found from August through October, but it can be found as early as May and up to December depending on where you live.
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*These have a poisoness look alike, Jack O Lantern mushrooms
The Jack-o'-lantern mushroom should not be eaten because it is poisonous to humans. It contains toxic chemicals that can cause severe stomach upset accompanied by vomiting, diarrhea and headache
PawPaws
The Pawpaw Asimina triloba, is well loved by Appalachian locals as a native fruit with a tropical taste. Pawpaw fruit is the largest tree fruit native to the United States, and its custard-like flesh has been said to taste like a combination of banana, pineapple, and Mango. The pawpaw has been used by Native Americans for centuries for both its fruit and its medicinal properties. Many tribes, including the Osage and Sioux, ate the fruit; the Iroquois used the mashed fruit to make small dried cakes to reconstitute later for cooking. PawPaw season is late summer, look for the smell of rotting fruit, eat the ones that are squishy to the touch.
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*They resemble mangos on the trees, many options to eat the ones that are on the floor already as they usually have ripened, but you can also ripen them at home.
Appalachia has a rich and beautiful history filled with magic and delicious food. But the only real way to learn about Appalachia is to visit it. Go and speak with locals, learn about the history, their delicious foods, and powerful Grandma magic, and you too will fall in love with Appalachia.
Thank you for sitting down and having Tea with me on the Other side of the Great Divide
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starry-eyedblog · 5 months
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your favourite english girl here with a niche english girl request...
johnny coming back from a mission or somehow walking in on his english gf reader sleeping in an england football shirt after they just beat scotland? 👉👈
a bit of somno/nation play/fluffy ending if you feel like indulging me, please? 🥺
funny seeing you here bunny :3
making me write scotland loosing against england is painful, but for you i’ll indulge. got a real thing for scottish people degrading you for being english eh? <3
warnings/tags: 18+ smut, somno, fingering, oral (blowjob), degrading, gagging, mean soap, degrading the english?? lol
johnny had been out at the pub, watching the game with his mates and he was upset to say the least. the game ended poorly, a 2-1 defeat against england that left him huffing. he only stayed for one more pint after the game, not in the mood to listen to the taunting of his english friends much longer.
he got out of the taxi, paying the fare as well as tip before he was walking into the house. he made quick work of kicking his shoes off and sauntering upstairs to the bedroom, a smile on his face as he saw you already snoring away under the covers.
johnny shrugged his jeans down and pulled his jacket and t-shirt off, dropping them to the floor to deal with in the morning before pulling the duvet back and crawling onto the bed. as the duvet came away from your sleeping form, he saw the english top you were wearing and a scoff left him. “cheeky .” he muttered quietly.
he looked up at your sleeping face, yanking the cover down further before his hand was running under the white top and resting at the waistband of your underwear. he wasted no time in slipping his hand into your underwear, gently tracing over your cunt. one thick finger was then sliding inside of you, working slow to not wake you yet.
you let out a soft sound, moving around slightly but you don’t wake, still sleeping peacefully as johnny teases your cunt. it doesn’t long before he’s growing more aggressive, adding a second finger as the english badge stares right at him.
memories of the mockery from his mates runs through his mind, watching his team loose on the bring screen and hearing those awful english chants. god he hated it all and soon he’s hissing above you, his other hand coming up to grab your face.
his fingers dig into your cheeks, pulling your head up and forcing your face into a pout as you wake up confused and dazed. hot pleasure seeps through you, faster than your brain can comprehend and you moan softly. “jo-johnny? when did you get, ahh.” you whimper, unable to finish your sentence as his fingers inside of you become meaner.
johnny digs his fingers into your g-spot with no remorse. “tryna rile me up, eh hen? wanted tae make me mad did ye aye? well ye got yer wish, english bastard.” he mutters, his eyes staring into yours as he pulls his hand away from your face and rests it on your inner thigh.
his words and aggressive tone send a shiver down your spine and cause wetness to seep from your stuffed hole, soaking his fingers more. “fuck johnny,” you gasp out as your head drops back slightly into the pillow again.
“bet ye were real happy with the result.” he grumbles, fingers pressing even harder into your g-spot. he’s rough, ploughing his fingers in and out of your soaking cunt.
you try to respond but it just feels too good, especially when his thumb presses to your twitching clit. a cry leaves you at that moment, hips bucking up for more. “wanna cum?” he asks, looking up at you with dark eyes and you nod frantically. “yes yes, please johnny c’mon please.” you whine.
johnny adds more pressure to your clit, his fingers still thrusting meanly. “shame, should’ve thought about that before ye wore that mingin’ top.” he utters, leaning forward and spitting directly on the badge of the english football top.
his fingers then leave your sopping wet cunt, no longer touching you at all as he pulls back and leans on his knees that cage your legs in. you let out a soft whine, squirming underneath him, so so desperate to cum. “s’jus a game johnny!” you complain, looking up at him with puppy eyes but it won’t work on him now.
“oh just a game aye?” he chuckles, looking at you as he pulls his boxers down enough to free his cock. “open yer mouth, fuckin whore.” he almost growls, moving up closer so the tip of his leaking cock presses against your bottom lip.
you do as he says, dropping your mouth open and welcoming his thick cock in. a low groan of pleasure leaves him, his head tipping back as both his hands come to cradle your head and keep you in place.
“gonna take everything i gie ye or yer gettin hee haw.” johnny hisses, sliding his cock further into your mouth. you moan around him, trying your best to nod but it’s impossible with his strong grip. your hands come up to grab at his bare thighs, holding on tightly.
soon enough he’s thrusting in and out of your mouth, enjoying the way you gag and sputter around him. “you fuckin english dinnae ken when tae shut yer gobs. have tae fill them, use them for somethin more worthwhile eh?” he chuckles, cruelly catching you off guard by roughly thrusting all the way forward so the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat.
you gag loudly, tears streaming down your face as your mouth is pressed all the way to his groin, his curly pubes brushing against your face. it’s not long before johnny is letting out more groans and whines, signalling he’s close.
he continues to use and abuse your mouth, giving no mercy as he soaks up all the pleasure. and then without warning, he’s cumming straight down your throat, keeping his cock in your mouth. “fuck hen, there ye go.” he groans as his eyes flutter shut.
you take it all, crying and whining as you swallow down every last drop. once he’s finished, johnny slowly pulls back and watches his spit slicked cock slide out of your mouth. oh and what a sight it is. his cock tries to give an interested twitch against his thigh but he’s too spent right now.
johnny trails his thumb over your bottom lip, smearing his cum and your spit on your face and you look up at him with teary eyes. “all the english are good for, suckin cock n crying.” he whispers and you feel your cunt pulse and leak more slick into your underwear.
after cleaning you up and changing you, johnny pulls you into his arms and cradles you into his chest in bed. “wasnae too rough was i?” he asks softly, combing his fingers through your hair and you smile against his bare chest under the duvet. “enjoyed it.” you whisper and he laughs softly.
“ye ken i didnae mean all of that, aye lass?” he says and you nod against him. “i know, just dirty talk.” you respond, looking up at him and your eyes meet one another. “couldnae ever think of my bonnie girlfriend like that. yer brilliant.” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and you glow.
“does that mean i can cum tonight then?” you cheekily ask and soap raises a brow. “pushin yer luck pet.” he jokes, the two of you laughing in one another’s embrace.
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scotianostra · 3 months
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On February 24th 1303 the Scots, under Simon Fraser and John Comyn beat an English force at The Battle of Roslin.
Now most of my history is self taught that I have picked up over the years, I was brought up near Roslin and my mum did take us there as bairns and told us all about the Chapel, the Apprentice Pillar and The Holy Grail, this was 30 years before Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code novel, so with all that you would think that I will have been told all about The Battle of Roslin?
Nope not a thing, I knew about Stirling Bridge, Bannockburn and Culloden, as well as other battles but I can't recall my mum ever telling me about Roslin, so what I know is all learned over the past 20 years or so.
Fought between the Scots and English during the Wars of Scottish Independence and was a Scottish victory, but it does not figure in many history books and few people up until lately have even heard of it, yet the figures involved, especially on the English side, make it one of the biggest battles ever on Scots soil.
This was during the Wars of Scottish Independence, according to the stories I have read it was more of a fight over the love of a woman rather than a pure Scotland v England "match".
Lady Margaret Ramsay of Dalhousie, who had become betrothed to the handsome Sir Henry St Clair, they of the Knights Templar folk. Enter your typical English arrogant guy in Sir John de Segrave, a seasoned campaigner in many a Scottish battle. Sir John is said to have fallen in love with oor Lady Margaret on may visits to Dalhousie Castle, on hearing of the impending marriage in a fit of jealousy decided he wanted the Lady for himself so sought out to sweep her off her feet and defeat the Scottish army all in one fell swoop.
It's a great tale and sounds like a Hollywood film, but there never was any Lady Margaret Ramsay and we know that Sinclair married one Alicia de Fenton. So that's the romance bit debunked.
What I have also read out about the battle is that Segrove split his army, of 30,000 troops, into three groups, to me this is more believable, well splitting the army, the numbers in my mind will have been a lot less. Anyone who knows the landscape of Roslin Glen will know that it lends itself to the theory that in battle on big force would find it difficult to gather there. The English army in three divisions was also common in armies at the time. The terrain in Roslin in the middle of winter would have made it very difficult for a large army to manouevre, so with that I am pretty sure the numbers have been exaggerated, put it this way, if 30,000 English were defeated at Roslin it would be bigger than Bannockburn.
This brings me to my third point about the battle, why are no accounts of it from people present at it? Well that is easily explained in the fact that one of the commanders of the Scots was John "The Red" Comyn. It's a well know fact that history favours the winners, and we all know that The Bruce and Comyn were bitter rivals so it would be natural for any records of the battle to have been erased by Bruce. Well that's my take on it.
A couple of other details often written about the battle is that William Wallace was present, Wallace by this time had given up the Guardianship and at some point was said to have been in France, when captured he was in possession of a "safe passage" letter from The King of France, so was he there? Again I refer to my local knowledge in that along the River Esk that runs through Roslin Glen, towards Hawthornden Castle is a cave we know as Wallace's Cave, so there is a connection somewhere down the ages with our favourite Scottish patriot.
One as wee story regarding The Battle of Roslin is about the Cistercian Prior Abernethy of Mount Lothian to the west of Balantradoch, the Templar headquarters in Scotland, it was about 5 miles from Roslin, Abernethy, the monk, had been a Templar, a warrior, who had off his armour and lay down his sword to spend the remainder of his life praising God. Now the warrior priest's blood rose again. The life of prayer, compilation of Gregorian chants was abandoned. God had called the Prior to the defence of Scotland. As men prepare for battle each pray to whatever God he knows "let us be victorious."
Monks on horseback were sent to raise the alarm and warn the Scots of the danger facing them, they would have said a prayer for the Scots troops before the battle, as was normal, but another legend is that as the Scottish Army grew tired during the third stage of the battle. Abernethy is said to have been crucial with his local knowledge of the Glen, he also directed the Monks to erect a huge St Andrews Cross on the Pentland Hills, as the Scots tired the Cross was set alight and the Abernethy pointed towards it, saying it was a sign from God, it rallied the troops and the Battle was won.
You will have maybe heard other versions of The Battle of Roslin, a lot of this is my own take and by no means historical.
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mapsontheweb · 1 month
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William the Conqueror, Duke of Normandy & King of England (1066-1087)
Map published in “L’Histoire” n°424 (June 2016); included in the “World Historical Atlas” by Christian Grataloup, Les Arènes/L’Histoire, 2019
by cartesdhistoire
In 1066, the victory at Hastings linked England to the continent for several centuries, despite the difficult conquest of the North and Cornwall. In about ten years, William extended Norman power from the Scottish marches to Maine. He stitched the territory with castles, took control of the administration and avoided the creation of vast vassal fiefdoms, apart from the counties facing Wales and Scotland. The duke-king, upon his death in 1087, was in a position to compete with the king of France.
1035: On the death of his father, William becomes Duke of Normandy at the age of 8. 1047: Battle of Val-ès-Dunes. William, allied with the French king Henry I, defeats a coalition of rebel Norman barons. 1051: Edward the Confessor, King of England, asks William to succeed him. 1052: Breakdown of the alliance between William and Henry I. Around 1053: Marriage of William and Mathilde of Flanders. 1063: Harold is taken prisoner by Gui de Ponthieu. William had him released and demanded that he undertake to recognize him as king of England upon Edward's death. 1066, October 14: Battle of Hastings. 1066, December 25: William crowned king of England. 1069-1070: Rebellion in northern England and its suppression. 1083: Death of Queen Mathilde. She is buried in the Abbaye aux Dames de Caen, which she founded. 1085-1086: Census for the completion of the Domesday Book. 1087: Death of William. He is buried in the Men's Abbey of Caen, which he founded. His eldest son, Robert Courteheuse, succeeded him as Duke of Normandy; his third son William II Roux becomes king of England. 1204: Philippe Auguste, king of France, defeats John Lackland and conquers Normandy. It is the end of the cross-Channel empire created by William.
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