#William of neath

[romanticism-art-history]

Ysgwd or Scwd Fall, Neath Valley painted by Penry Williams (1802 - 1885)

[classicalcanvas]

Title: Scwd Fall, Neath Valley

Artist: Penry Williams

Date: 1819

Style: Romanticism

Genre: Landscape

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

On St David's Day and celebration of Welsh heritage and culture. I needed to see this clip today. It feels so fitting to what's going on in the world right now…

Richard Burton reciting from Shakespeare's

"What a piece of work is a man" monologue, in Hamlet. When he did this on stage in 1964, it would have been booming out through the Broadway venue, but there's something equally powerful about hearing him recite it in a more understated way, in close-up.

He was noted for his mellifluous baritone voice. Burton established himself as a formidable Shakespearean actor in the 1950s and gave a memorable performance as Hamlet in 1964. He was called the natural successor to Sir Lawrence Olivier.

Richard Burton CBE. The Welsh actor was born Richard Walter Jenkins Jr. 10th November 1925 in Pontrhydyfen (or Pont-rhyd-y-fen) is a small village in the Afan Valley, in Neath Port Talbot county borough in Wales 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 and educated in Exeter College, Oxford. He died on 5th August 1984 (aged 58) in Céligny, Switzerland 🇨🇭 His burial place - Old Cemetery ("Vieux Cimetière") of Céligny.

#RichardBurton recites from #Hamlet #actor #StDavid'sDay #Shakespeareanactor #voice

@shinycomputerqueen “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them"...William Shakespeare,Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene V. With his magnificent voice and presence, Burton was one of the major actors of the 20th century.

[regalityandcoffee]

The Body Doesn't Lie (William Regal x Reader)(18+)

Summary: This au is incomprehensible but I guess this is set during it? Anyway, you're laying in bed with William and you have a wet dream. He decides to help you out during it.

Warnings: short, somnophilia, fingering, thigh riding, that's about it.

Enjoy <3

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He relished nights like these with you, nights you two spent in each other's embrace, especially when you'd sleep with him in his room instead of your own down the hall.

Tonight was no different, except you had fallen asleep long before him, snuggled in front of him as you both laid on your sides with his arm around your waist. He listened to the sound of your breathing as he finished up an email on his phone, the brightness down as much as possible as to not wake you. He was breaking his own rule of either of you not working while in bed, but what you didn't know wouldn't hurt you right?

Finally finished, he turned his phone off and placed to on the charger on his nightstand. He was about to turn off the small lamp as well when a noise from you gathered his attention. He brought his arms fully around your middle, and pulled the comforter so it covered you both well.

"Poor baby..." William murmured as he nuzzled his face into the side of your neck. "You must be so tired."

"Mmmhmm." a small noise escaped your lips as you in his arms.

"Are you awake, sweetheart?" There was no response. He waited until your breath once again went even and steady. You appeared to still be asleep. There was movement behind your eyes, but they were definitely still shut. Minutes went past, he himself beginning to drift off, until he felt you turn over in his arms, resting your head against his chest. He moved his legs a bit so you could lay one of yours between his, one of your arms fell around his middle.

"M-Mister..."

"Yes, darling?" He tried again, feeling as your hand weakly gripped his shirt. You still seemed to be asleep though. One hand moved to rub up and down your back. Maybe you were having a bad dream, maybe he should wake you up...

He felt your hips shift against his leg just a bit, the fabric of your underwear rub against his thigh. You made another noise, this one sounding less like distress... more of a whine of some sort...

"Pl...please..."

He moved his thigh up a bit and tugged the leg of his shorts up, feeling you move against him again.

Oh. Oh.

"You need help, don't you, sweetheart?" He whispered. He lifted his thigh just a bit, watching your face as he tugged up your nightshirt above your hips. He moved his hand down to rub the inside of your thigh, giving the hot, soft skin a quick squeeze before slipping past your underwear to rub against your pussy. "Poor thing, getting so wet like this..."

He slipped his fingers into you, moving them back in forth in your soaked heat before angling them to look for your core under the blankets...

"Mmmmph..." He felt you grip his shirt a bit tighter.

Found it.

He crooked his fingers and slowly moved them in you, his thumb rubbing circles against your clit as you bucked your hips against his hand, going from slowly swirling his fingers in you, taking his time, then quickly thrusting them in you as you whimpered and whined against him in your sleep.

His wrist was beginning to ache, but the noises you made pushed him to go on.

"Hm, mmmh..."

"Shh, that's it, that's it. You're doing so well. Even like this, you're so good for me..." He murmured. He continued on, applying more pressure against your clit, feeling the way it pulsed under neath yiur thumb and your pussy clenched around his fingers, until his ears perked at your voice.

"S-Sir?" This time your voice was more clear, and he watched as you eyes slowly opened.

"Hi, sweetheart." Slowly, he slipped his fingers out of you, smiling at you as you looked up in confusion. You seemed to quickly understand what just happened, and moved to bury your face in his chest, clutching his shirt, mumbling apologies.

"You woke up before you could cum, didn't you?"

"Yes..."

"Don't feel embarrassed, dear. It's alright. Don't you want to finish?" He whispered, petting your hair with his other hand.

You looked up, eyes dewy and wide. You gave a small nod.

He kissed your forehead. "Good girl. Let me help you, just keep moving against me, okay?"

"Okay..." you moved your hips against his thigh, the now very damp fabric of your underwear rubbing against him.

He stroked your hair and gave you words of encouragement as you rubbed against him, whining against his chest once again. You barely lasted a few more minutes, desperately moving your hips faster, before slowing down, panting hard, coming to a rest back down on top of him.

"That's it, you did so well, honey."

"Thank you, Sir..." You mumbled against him.

"Do you want more than that, sweetheart?" He asked, gently cupping your face with his hand. You nodded again.

He laughed softly as you raised your hips, and slowly he helped you to pull your underwear down.

"Let's get these off of you, then..."

-fin-

[detective-and-dreamer]

Because someone - @capn-twitchery - made me think more about Emory's family, here's the basics before they show up in any further fics:

Roughly a decade after the fall of London, a girl in her late teens left Khan's Shadow. She loved her home and the urchins she had grown up alongside, but had no desire to spy or fight for anyone. Who cared about political allegiances when there were treasures out there to be stolen? Duels to be won? Epic zee-ztories to become a part of? No, she was going to become a pirate on her own terms and no one else's. This girl, Erdene, would go on to gain notoriety and become known as the Gilded Corsair.

Around the same time, two sailors of a similar age came to the Neath, chasing rumors of strange and thrilling sights. Aubrey Hayes, who would become the Exuberant Rogue, settled in easily, pleased that nobody questioned him saying he was a man. His friend, William Delaney (later known as the Taciturn Explorer), wanted to see everything these dark waters had to offer. They found work and started their new lives as zailors.

Before Erdene and Aubrey earned their titles, though, they met in an island's dockside tavern. They got into a friendly fight that turned into a one-night stand and parted ways; they would not cross paths again for over a year.

It eventually became clear that this night had had...consequences. Since Aubrey and Will had fooled around before, there was some concern the child might be his and much relief when it turned out otherwise. Will instead became an honorary uncle, helping out while Aubrey did his best to track down a girl he'd only met once. He figured she deserved to know, at least.

When they did meet again, Erdene could hardly deny Emory was hers; they were practically her spitting image. She was anxious and uncertain, but stepped up to do her best. Between all of them, they managed to raise Emory more or less effectively, though his upbringing and education were a bit unconventional. Over time, Aubrey and Erdene also realized that they did, in fact, get along very well. After a few years of this somewhat backwards courtship, they had a small but raucous wedding.

The Gilded Corsair's husband and their friend remained on her crew up until Emory was somewhere in his mid-20s. The Taciturn Explorer left them to join him on the Aegis for at least a few years, being interested in Lenora's expeditions which were focused more on knowledge than profit.

From time to time, Emory's parents show up, board his ship, and spend some time with the rest of their family. In turn, whenever Emory is away from London for a long period of time, he does his best to track them down for a visit.

Fun facts:

The Gilded Corsair is known as such because she is constantly dripping with jewelry. She has a reputation for being ruthless and strict, which is deserved, but she's not outright cruel or unpleasant. Treat her fairly and she'll do the same - for the most part. If you have something she really wants, not much is going to stop her from taking it.

The Exuberant Rogue loves duelling and sparring. If you befriend him, he'll almost always be eager to test your skills. The fish tattoo on his hip is for Emory, who he fondly refers to as "little fish."

The Taciturn Explorer may not enjoy long conversations (Aubrey befriended him mainly through persistence), but he'll warm up to you if you give him some new study materials. He was the one who taught Emory the majority of their navigational and cartographical skills.

[a-queer-seminarian]

Artist & priest William Hart McNichols connected Saint Francis's care for lepers with care for LGBT folks, drug users, and other "outcasts" during the AIDS epidemic.

ID: video features a white genderqueer person with brown hair buzzed on the side, sitting in front of a bookcase with a personal altar in the lowest shelves, glowing with candlelight. Several art pieces are shown throughout the video, and are also shared under the readmore with further descriptions.

ID: A tile mosaic featuring Saint Francis in his brown robes supporting a leper in white; the leper holds a staff and shares a tender look with Francis.

“St. Francis ‘Neath the Bitter Tree” by William Hart McNichols

ID: a painting with gold borders and a black background shows Christ on a cross with a label on the top proclaiming him an AIDS leper, drug user, and homosexual. His naked torso has red sores on it. Saint Francis in his brown robes has his arms wrapped around Christ's waist, and he gazes up lovingly at Christ, who gazes back.

[thestarsarecool]

Paul McCartney Interview in Q Magazine: Cash for Questions. January 1998 Issue.

Hi, all! A photo of one page of this has been around on tumblr for a while (here), but I’ve always wanted to read the full thing. Some lovely soul on Google Groups in 1997 decided to transcribe the full interview (here), so now I’m uploading it so you can read it. Hooray!

Q. When you first wrote a song with John Lennon, did you realise you would play one of the biggest parts in rock 'n' roll? (Michael McConnell, Crawley, West Sussex)

A. Obviously not. But even with all the so-called "historical" events that followed, you're just too inside it all, too busy doing it to realise anything's "historical". You just get on with it. I'm not a great ponderer. Some people would say that's a mistake but it's just the way I am. It's quite cool not to always get the overall picture because it leaves something to be found out. The musicologists get paid to discover the differences between me and John. I'm only just beginning to see it now, based probably on their analysis. So John is often one note, I'm often more melodic. (McCartney is thinking especially of Ian McDonald's book Revolution in the Head, where he describes the ace partnership in contrasts: Lennon's method is "harmonic, dissonant", McCartney's that of the "natural melodist".) It might sound amazing but we never spotted that when we were writing. We just did our thing. But it is kind of apparent when you bother to analyse it.

Q. If John Lennon could come back for a day, how would you spend it with him (Mark Wilson, Deeside, Flintshire)

A. In bed.

Q. Were you ever envious that Brian Epstein didn't fancy you? (Nick Gibson, London) 

A. No, I didn't mind. We just used to go to these clubs at night and wonder why there were so many men. It was OK. Brian was very cool about his side to things. I think the nearest any of us got to it was the John-going-to-Spain thing (it inspired the movie, The Hours And The Times) and I'm not sure what the strength of all that was. I think it was power play on John's part. But Brian kept his private life aside. He kept it out of our faces (pause, possibly for effect). He kept it out of mine, anyway.

Q. What were the last records you bought? (Chris Timms, Harrogate)

A. The Prodigy's The Fat Of The Land, Radiohead's OK Computer and Chopin's Nocturnes.

Q. How do you feel about all the animosity between you and Oasis right now? (Christina Vellano, Syracuse, New York, USA)

A. There is none as far as I'm concerned. What happened was I'd said, Good group, good singer, good songwriters. But people asked me about it so much that one time I decided to take it further and say that they don't mean anything to me. I am not related to Oasis. I wish them good luck and everything. But my kids mean something to me, John Lennon means something to me, but Oasis ....

Q. Who would you pick to play with in your dream six-piece band? (Alan Thatcher, Essex) 

A. Dream? So we're into fantasy, aren't we? Ringo, John, George, that's three. Me. Jimi Hendrix. That makes lots of guitarists, so Little Richard on keyboards.

Q. With Wings, did you feel pressurised to live up to The Beatles? (Andrew Williams, Neath)

A. Yes, it was a case of "follow that!". Impossible to do. Looking back on it, it's a lot better than I thought, though some of it is just not PLAYED as well as The Beatles. My son (James, co-worker on McCartney's last pop album, Flaming Pie) plays a lot of Wings, so I'm re-listening, and there's good shit that I'd forgotten about. A lot of the lyrics were off the wall, drug stimulated. Things like "Soily - the cat in the satin trousers says its oily". What was I on? I think the answer is stimulants.

Q. Do you still support the legislation of cannabis? (Grahame Woods, Northwood, Middlesex)

A. I would make a distinction between legalising and decriminalising. I'm in favour of the latter. The problem is that jails are stuffed full of kids doing what a lot of people do. Why stuff the jails with young kids? Plus it's one of the best places to score. I remember when I got busted in Japan, nobody made the slightest effort to rehabilitate me (laughs). Just stuck me in a box for nine days. Obviously you come out and you are fairly resentful.

Q. Do you roll a wicked joint? (Steve Kline, Bury)

A. I have nothing to say in answer to that question, m'lud. I wasn't even at the venue.

Q. The critics have been harsh on your solo work. Did this ever discourage you? (Robert Hemauer, Madison, Wisconsin, USA)

A. Yeah, sure, but you don't let it kill you. It's a difficult one, because it's never cool for someone to tell you you're shit. Many people through history were damned by the critics of their own time - Cezanne, Van Gogh, Stravinsky, all great painters! Ha ha!

Q. We'd like to see your paintings but can't get to the exhibition in Germany (McCartney unveils his work for the first time in Siegen, Germany, next year). Any thoughts about putting your paintings on "tour", or publishing a book of them? (Kathy Goodman, San Diego, CA, USA)

A. A difficult one. If you're a so-called celebrity - like Bowie, Anthony Quinn, Tony Curtis - and you exhibit any art, inevitably, people are not going to think of you as a real painter. Gallery owners come up to me and offer to give me exhibitions. I say, You haven't seen my pictures, and they say, It doesn't matter. Well, it does to me. Otherwise, it's just trading on the name. However, this guy from Germany came over, looked at all my paintings, seems to like them. He's telling me what they're all about.

Q. You've done so many things - classical, films, music, art, drugs - is there anything left you might have a go at? (Tim Bowler, Swansea)

A. The thing is how reluctant I've often been to have a go. I think we were brought up pretty repressed. Brought up to be seen and not heard, to stay in your place, particularly a working class thing. And I think - I hope - with The Beatles, we got rid of a lot of that. With the painting, for instance, it was Willem de Kooning who liberated me. I used to go to his studio, took in one of my paintings, said, Hey Bill, I hope you don't mind but can you tell me what it is? (Affects American drawl) "Oh, looks like a couch." Well it looked like a purple mountain to me. And he says, "Well, whatever." Here's one of the greats, his works go for one million, and it was great to see how little bullshit he was bringing to it all. It's really important to explode these myths that surround the arts, music, painting. It's Wizard of Oz time - so many myths, and it's often just a little man behind the screen. The paraphernalia that surrounds them gets in the way. Often you meet leaders in their field and they have none of that. I remember asking a great painter - Peter Blake, maybe - for some advice once, and he said "Just paint a lot". Similar to my approach to music.

Q. How do you know when a song's finished? (Joyce Slavik, Palatine, Illinois)

A. It's full up. You've answered all of your questions. Normally, I start following a thread: "Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice ... " The thread might come out of nowhere, and I follow it and complete it, like a crossword puzzle. When the crossword is full up, the song is finished.

Q. What's more embarrassing: writing Hi Hi Hi or Say Say Say? (Tien Vu, Costa Mesa, California)

A. (Weighs up pros and cons). Say Say Say.

Q. Why did you give such extensive interviews for an authorised biography (Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now) instead of writing an autobiography? (Deena Hochberg, Southampton, Pennsylvania)

A. I don't think I'm a writer. I've never been moved to do it. You have to have a pretty big fire in the belly to do something as big as that. I fancy music more. I'm happier writing in songs rather than in prose, or poetry. Though I wrote something that was never published about the time I got busted in Japan - for my kids. Because I knew one day they'd say, "Hey dad, what was it like, nine days in a Tokyo jail?". So I had a mate of mind, who did all our printing, knock up a few copies, one for each of the kids.

Q. I'd like to know if Sir Paul sings in the shower, and if so, what does he sing? (Jennifer Nash, Bursville, Minnesota)

A. It's normally the bath. I prefer a good bath. And the answer's Firestarter - "I'm a firestarter, de-de-de-de-dera."

Q. As a kid you used to play pranks at school by throwing balloons filled with something "worse than water". If you had one of those balloons right now who would you like to hit with it? (Brett Yuskiewicz, Leipzig, Germany)

A. Jonathan King. He's a prat from way back.

Q. Which football team did/does each Beatle support? (WC Chan, Maryland, USA)

A. None of us were big footie types. We weren't very sporty, unlike other groups who were always having knock-arounds. My dad was an Everton fan, which I was most of my life. But then Liverpool started playing well, and Everton didn't, so I took the unprecedented move of supporting them both. It's not allowed, I know, but there you go.

Q. For years, you've claimed it's you in the Walrus costume in the Magical Mystery Tour film. But watching the footage shows that for it to be you, you and John would have had to exchange all your clothes. Are you winding us up, or have you not watched the film in 30 years? (Dorothy Northcutt, Tucker, Georgia) 

A. The big one. Very good question. I tell you what it was. In the stills we had taken, I was the one with the Walrus head on - in the film it's different. So John then immortalised it in Glass Onion, "I've got news for you all, the walrus was Paul". Obviously at the time you don't care, it's just a Walrus head. You don't realise years later people like our friend from Georgia will analyse it.

Q. What is the quality of each of the other Beatles that you like(d) the best about? (S. Breggles, Richmond)

A. All of them - musical talent. All of them - honesty. Ringo -funny, and kind hearted. George - straightforward and open. John - witty with a soft centre, or maybe hard with a soft centre.

Q. Do the copulating beetles on the sleeve of Ram (1970) stand for F**k The Beatles? (Luc Van de Wiele, Wemmel, Belgium)

A. It happened to be a picture Linda had taken. We couldn't resist it just because of the way it looked. She'd caught these two beetles f**king, and then the significance hit us. We saw that pun, yeah, thought why not?

Q. Was there ever a third Lennon song for Anthology 3? (Jake Lennington, Rush City, MN, USA)

A. There was, but George didn't like it. The Beatles being a democracy, we didn't do it.

Q. I have a Beatles t-shirt which I bought from The Grapes (celebrated Liverpool pub). I was told the band are pictured in their favourite seats - adjacent to the Ladies where you would often catch a glimpse of the girls changing for an evening at The Cavern. True? (Alan Tomkins, Goring, West Sussex)

A. I hope so. It SOUNDS true. Had there been an opportunity to spot the girls changing, I'm sure we would have sat there.

Q. If you hadn't been a musician, what do you think you would have been? (Tony Carter, Manchester)

A. The only thing I could have probably qualified for was teaching. So I might have been an English teacher.

Q. Does it do your head in - stuff like the handwritten lyrics to Getting Better selling for $249,000 at Sothebys? (Peggy Robinson, Trinant, Gwent)

A. It's the price of fame - literally. You scribble them on the back of an envelope, and it gets to be famous. People want it, so it becomes a desirable object. Like Mozart's bog paper, which is another highly desirable object, apparently. More valuable obviously if it's been used.

Q. What is the inscription on the ID bracelet you wear? (Rachel Hyland, West Harford, Connecticut)

A. It says Paul - for when I forget who I am.

Q. How does it feel to have a star named after you (the christening courtesy of American astronomy fans)? (John Sales, Barry, Glamorgan)

A. Really cool. The good thing is that as you get on, your fans get on too. And some of them are pretty swotty. Like the people who started Apple, they were just Beatles fans, hence the name. You don't sit around looking at the sky, trying to find it, but it's like getting a very nice birthday present. I'm not religious, I don't believe in any one system - I sort of think the universe is basically benevolent and we f**k it up - but I am spiritual. I saw Stephen Hawking on TV the other night, and he was saying that we are made of the same stuff as the stars. Which is great. We are all stardust, luv.

Q. What do you want written on your gravestone? (Tom Mangold, Exeter) 

A. Here lies Gracie Fields. Anything to keep people away.

Q. Hey, is it true you are dead, and if you are, what is it like? (L.A. Patterson, Hamlet, North Carolina)

A. Yes. And it's very interesting. It's a very interesting afterlife.

[stoppit-keepout]

music c:

 rules: when you get this, you have to put in 5 songs you actually listen to at the moment. Then tag 5-10 followers to do the same. Tagged by @lurkersown, thankee!

1. Bunny is a Rider - Caroline Polacheck (this album just came out yesterday, but my friend sent this single to me a while ago and it just hit right!) Bunny is a, bunny is a, a rider // Satellite can't find her, no sympathy // But I'm so non-physical // I do, I do ...

2. Bloom - William Prince ~ Thick as thieves but in the end what matters // There was plenty of silver just not enough gold // The hardest part is the lettin go

3. I Only Say I’m Sorry When I’m Wrong Now - Cheekface (bought the live album on a whim in December and have never once regretted it!) There’s nothing wrong with your face // mine looks like that too!

4. Waltz of the 101st Lightborne - Joanna Newsom (genuinely listened to this on repeat for at least an hour the other day. TIME TRAVEL WAR EMOTIONS!) All we saw was that Time is taller than Space is wide // That's why we are bound to a round desert island, // 'neath the sky where our sailors have gone.

5. Cold Little Heart - Michael Kiwanuka (watched all of Big Little Lies a few months ago, looooved the soundtrack) Bleeding, I'm bleeding // My cold little heart // Oh I, I can't stand myself

Ok, and now to tag folks! Just going with ‘most recent notes’ because i should hurry to a work call lol... @cariniqe, @sieh, @persimmonlions, @chickiedeare, @feathraly, @psidn, @thrashwise, anyone else who feels like sharing music!

[writ-in-violant]

🌳 🌺

Thank you!

🌳 What is your OC’s favourite way to relax after a stressful day? Do they have a favourite book to curl up with? A hobby? Or do they have a nice bubble bath and have an early night to bed?

Vivian tends to find something to read -- they're partial to poetry, both that of current Neathy writers and older classics like William Blake, Coleridge, Wordsworth, and the Romantics in general. Also, pulling out "Mrs. Frontispiece"'s poetry is always good to wind down and cheer up.

Blake feeds the cats outside his rooftop shack and pets them. He'd deny it is a hobby or a method of relaxing -- he'd call it gathering secrets and intel -- but it functions much like a way to de-stress. He likes the cats a lot, and they like him back (probably bc he feeds them routinely). Sometimes this hardened spy just ends up with a lapful of purring kitten and is like well. This is how i'm spending my evening I suppose.

Art likes sewing. Usually it's mending his own clothes after they get torn up by his day to day life, but he made money before coming to the Neath by repairing clothes (and poaching, but that's less relaxing) and still likes the ritual and repetition of mending things. Keeps his hands busy and keeps himself grounded.

Celestine saves up money to buy nice soaps and bath products and takes the most lavish baths possible. She's calling herself a lady now and by god she's going to live like one, at least when it comes to baths. Also, doing and removing makeup and the rituals of getting herself ready for either going out or staying in are their own kind of comfort to her.

🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?

Oh boy. Vivian tends to climb onto the roof; if it's particularly bad, they'll start loosing a Storm-threnody or something similar. This isn't great for their mental stability, but they've gotten to the point of being a poet and scholar in Fallen London when sometimes you have to pit the nightmares you love against the ones that mean you can't sleep. They tend not to seek out other people during this -- most people cannot deal with hearing about Vivian's dreams, anyway.

Blake...well. Blake used to have a very solid way of dealing with nightmares. Liam was extremely good at getting through Blake waking up with a fight-or-flight response, and usually would make tea and hold Blake, who usually is nonverbal in these situations. Now...well, now that's not available. Blake still has a jacket of Liam's that he wraps himself in. It's stopped smelling like Liam, anymore. And it's hard to get the kind of tea that Liam always made, down here. So mostly, Blake just...tries not to sleep more than he has to. The nightmares are bad, but waking up is worse.

Art likes to get moving after a nightmare. Sometimes he'll go out for a run or walk, often he'll end up getting into fights on the way. Usually he wins them. Before he started having quite so many dreams of the Vake, though, he used to try to clean his house or do other similar chores, but these days...he starts feeling more and more stir-crazy after those dreams. Like he needs to be...doing something. Getting into fights...works. It works to calm him down.

My recent fic gave us a peek into how Celestine deals with nightmares. Initially, she'll just shut down and go into denial mode, compartmentalizing her problems, but after a certain point she needs to be around people. Typically she breaks into the house of someone who she at least somewhat trusts, even if she wouldn't admit she trusts that person in the daylight. Or whatever passes for it in the Neath. She also tries to find places that are brightly-lit and where she can at least hear other people, and where she's not stuck in a small space; she had claustrophobia even before she got buried alive.

Feel free to ask me more questions from this ask game: https://writ-in-violant.tumblr.com/post/727735080951463936/soft-oc-asks

[stairnaheireann]

#OTD in 1874 – Cathal Brugha (b. Charles William St. John Burgess) is born in Dublin.

Fuair sé bás ar son Saoirse na hÉireann. Twas England bade our wild geese go, that ‘small nations might be free’; Their lonely graves are by Suvla’s waves or the fringe of the great North Sea. Oh, had they died by Pearse’s side or fought with Cathal Brugha Their graves we’d keep where the Fenians sleep, ‘neath the shroud of the foggy dew… Born in Fairview, Dublin and educated at Belvedere…

[romanticism-art-history]

Eionon Garn on the Perddyn or Ysgwd or Scwd Fall, Neath Valley by Penry Williams (1802 - 1885)

[cath-lic]

“St. Francis ‘Neath the Bitter Tree” by William Hart McNichols. 1991. QSpirit.Net.

[primordialsoundmeditation]

🌝Full Moon Faery Wish.

Upon ye evening of a full Moon, magic be in the air as the Moon shall be full and bright.. and ye Celestial beings shall be out all night

💫Tonights Beaver full Moon brings with it a magical faery wish, and here it be..

As darkness does fall upon us, ye must go outside and stand neath the full Moons golden glare.

🌝 And, in your hands you’ll have an old empty handbag, one that you can zip up to close. Or you can use a make up bag.

As you face the Moon, hold the open empty handbag up towards ye full Moon.

🌝 Say out the words “fill it up”

You can ask for all your hearts desires be it good luck, be it good health, be it what ever you desire. Ask the moon to fill it up..

🌝 Still holding the bag up, you need to turn yourself around in a circle in a clockwise direction, one time, two time and three times.

As you finish the third turn, you need to zip the bag up quickly.

🌝 Now, put the handbag in a safe place, do not open it up for a month and do not place the bag on the floor.

This is a full Moon magic spell from the faery folk and if ye believe ye shall shall receive.

🌝 You can re-use the same bag for the next full Moons wishes.

May good luck be with ye💫

An Old Irish Faery Wish

Written by Athey Thompson

Art by William Heath Robinson

Tales of the old Forest Faeries

[3score11poet]

Tea Time Emotiku

Monday, 11/21/2022, Self-Centered

‘Neath the dirt and grime / beats a heart of selfish lust / that wants what it wants. © keefderpoet 2022

“For the trouble is that we are self-centered, and no effort of the self can remove the self from the centre of its own endeavor.” William Temple

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"LOCOMOTIVE OF C.P.R. IMPERIAL LIMITED IS THROWN INTO LAKE," Winnipeg Tribune. November 21, 1913. Page 1. ---- Fireman O'Connor, of Schrieber Drowned When Train Hit Rock Near Angler, Ont. ---- ENGINEER SAVED LIFE BY JUMPING --- Official Report Says That Only Baggage Car Left the Track and Mail and Passenger Cars Were Unscathed ---- While tearing along the eye-brow of a beetling cliff that overhangs Lake Superior, 178 miles east of Fort William, at 2 a.m. this morning, the first section of the C.P.R, westbound Imperial Limited, crashed into a gigantic boulder which had hurtled down on to the track from far up the precipitous cliff side. The engine was hurled from the steel into the charm of waters be neath, carrying in its mangled mass to a watery grave beneath, the living form of Fireman Ernest O'Connor, of Schreiber. The engineer escaped miraculously as the train struck, but his warning cry to his fellow workman was too late.

Luckily the engine broke away away from the rest of the train ere it plunged into the murky waters fur below. Three cars only left the track and the train held the foremost from following the engine into the lake which surged angrily fifty feet beneath. No one else was injured and in any case the death rate could not have been high as the train was composed only of transcontinental mail, express and baggage with a first class passenger couch at the rear occupied by but one man. There were. however, besides the engine crew, a conductor, two brakemen, a mail clerk and baggage and express agents on the train.

A Glancing Impact The impact of the train against the boulder was terrific, but its full force was not sustained by the cars owing to the fact that the force of the collision was sustained by the side of the train facing the cliff. This forced the engine over the lower cliff, but probably saved the whole whole train from being w reduced to splinters and being hurled in fragments against the rock on the one side or into the lake on the other. Had this happened many more fatalities must have resulted. Had the accident befallen the second section which was careening through the darkness a hundred miles behind and had the boulder been dead centre on the track one of the worst disasters in the history of Canadian railroads would have occurred.

A Wild Spot The section of the track in which the disaster occurred is one of the wildest and most picturesque on the whole Canadian Pacific railway through mountains, barren lands or prairies. prairie The track is built on a ledge of rock half-way up the cliff side. On the one side towers and frowns a solid wall of rock rudely torn by dynamite, while on the other is a sheer descent of fifty feet into the murky waters of of the largest inland sea in the world. The name of the town near which the accident occurred is Coldwell and it is on the Trans-Continental.