#g stone recordings

[nofatclips]

Dope by Kruder & Dorfmeister from the album 1995 - Samples Doggone by Love

[saint--claire]

When I was a little child, there was a particular library book I checked out week after week, endlessly renewing it as much as I was able. The book, How to Raise and Keep a Dragon by John Topsell was a quasi-nonfiction guide to, as you guessed, rearing different species of dragons. I loved it. Tiny-me had plans.

As an adult, I tried to buy it a few times. No dice. The book was so old that no mainstream bookseller stocked it. Even when I tried niche websites recommended by various booksellers and librarians, I still couldn't find it. It was sadly lost to time, apparently not popular enough to make it into the archives.

But.

My best friend had a copy of that book. We're going to call her G, for several reasons not relevant at the moment. I was discussing my search with G one day, for some reason I can't remember now. She got a funny look on her face, asked me a few questions about the cover, listened to me do a very poor job of explaining with my hands how the hardcover copy had included a real gemstone in the dragon's forehead, and then went off to fish it out of her bookcase.

I was Gobsmacked.

I should not have been, given that the history of shared childhood books between us both would have made a circle with ragged edges, more so than a venn diagram, but I digress. The book came home to live in my house for a few months, and I was delighted by the chance to read it again.

Do people remember those type of books? Dragonology, Egyptology, The Stone Age - a way of introducing children to non fiction. They very earnestly spoke about the responsibilities needed to raise dragons, the practicalities involved. There was a record of registration you could fill out, if you had carefully considered the information to your self and felt you were responsible enough to to go through with adopting a dragon.

I vaguely remember filling out some of the riddle and puzzle questions in the Dragonology books. I would never have written in John Topsell's book, it was a library book.

But.

When I re-read G's copy at home, smiling over the familiar artwork, I was surprised to turn the page and find the painstaking, somewhat-wonky handwriting staring back at at me. Baby G, with her name spelled out in freshly-joined but still-not-quite-got-the-hang-of-this-yet cursive lettering. Baby G had filled the registration out in her best handwriting, in glittery green gel pen to denote the importance of the document. This was compared to the earlier, less important checklists done in plain black ink.

I read the registration certificate. Smiled. Smiled some more at the names listed for G's dragon, her dam, and her sire - Eragon was also a great book. Go off, Christopher Paolini.

Breed; standard Western Dragon. The box 'miniture' was ticked, to show that G's dragon was of the minature specic variety, rather than a full size dragon. This was, as she would later explain to me, chosen on the basis that baby-G felt it was the more financially responsible choice. Also so she could keep her dragon in her house with her, but we're not there yet.

I looked at that certificate. Looked at it again. Looked at the calendar, and then looked at the sewing machine I had just been given for Christmas.

G celebrates her birthday in January.

The template came first. I studied the different images of the standard western dragon through the book, picked my favourite, and re-drew it to a significantly larger scale.

Inking the design to the fabric, four times over probably took the longest.

I very subtly asked G the next time she was over (after hurling all dragon-related materials in a panic into the depths of my wardrobe) what type of colour dragon she would have, should it come up. As G later said, that type of question from me truly did not register as anything other than a question asked from theoretical interest. I transitioned the topic as discreetly as I could after she answered, and delightfully, my sneakiness went in one ear, out the other, and she forgot I had ever asked until several weeks later.

I enjoyed painting them.

Don't ask me how many mistakes I made through this process. So many. I do already know how to sew, but it's been a long time. I'd been meaning to get back into it for a while.

Given that various aunts and grandmothers and my mother had a knack for calling when I was up to my elbows in either paint or pins, it became a family affair. Each of them peered at the project through face time and offered their advice.

Some of the advice I took, some I didn't. No regrets about sewing it in pink thread. Considerable regrets about accidentally slicing one of the feet in half and having to fix that.

In the end though, she was finished.

I carefully pinned on her name tag, with the name baby-G had chosen with a little blue ribbon. A collar was unacceptable, this is a dragon, people, come on. Dragon's don't wear collars.

I put the book in the box, open to the registration certificate, and put the dragon on top. Wrapped the whole thing up with a bow and then refused to touch it before I sent myself mad trying to fix details that didn't really need to be fixed.

A bit late for her birthday, sure, but there we are. We'd gone for a trip off to nowhere for a weekend, to go try wine made out of blueberries and hike up a waterfall. (And climb on it. And swim in it. It was a very good waterfall).

I gave her the box, informed her she wasn't allowed to keep the box, just the contents (it was the only thing I had that was big enough for me to keep all of my A3 portfolios in, it had only been temporarily-repurposed as dragon housing), and then left the next bit up to the gods.

A surprise, sitting un-awaited for some 15 years in amber, to catch up to baby G and adult G together.

Happy Birthday, baby and adult G.

[wingedblooms]

Elain Archeron, member of The Tortured Poets Department

i’m hearing voices like a madman - so high school

i’m seeing visions / am I bad or mad or wise? - guilty as sin?

you can mark my words that I said it first / in a mourning warning, no one heard - cassandra

and for a fortnight there, we were forever - fortnight

leaving me bereft and reeling / my beloved ghost and me / sitting in a tree / d-y-i-n-g - how did it end?

i saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist - so long, london

i cry a lot, but I am so productive, it's an art - i can do it with a broken heart

but my bare hands paved their paths / you don't get to tell me about "sad" - who’s afraid of little old me?

so I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street / crash the party like a record scratch as I scream / "who's afraid of little old me?" / you should be - who’s afraid of little old me?

i hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind - i hate it here

one slip and fallin' back into the hedge maze […] i keep recalling things we never did - guilty as sin?

these fatal fantasies / giving way to labored breath, takin' all of me / we’ve already done it in my head / if it's make-believe / why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow? - guilty as sin?

wise men once said / "one bad seed kills the garden" / "one less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen" / locked me up in towers / but I'd visit in your dreams / and they tried to warn you about me - the albatross

a rose by any other name is a scandal / cautions issued, he stood - the albatross

i spied the catch in your breath - i look in people’s windows

what if I roll the stone away? / they’re gonna crucify me anyway / what if the way you hold me is actually what's holy? - guilty as sin?

"stay away from her" / the saboteurs protested too much - but daddy i love him

crashin' into him tonight, he's a paradox - guilty as sin?

it’s happenin' again / how did it end? / i can't pretend like I understand - how did it end?

this cage was once just fine / am I allowed to cry? / i dream of crackin' locks - guilty as sin?

thought I caught lightning in a bottle / oh, but it's gone again […] please / i’ve been on my knees / change the prophecy / don't want money / just someone who wants my company / let it once be me - the prophecy

cards on thе table / mine play out like fools in a fablе […] poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand / oh, still I dream of him - the prophecy

lilac short skirt, the one that fits me like skin […] and I'll tell you one thing, honey / i can tell when somebody still wants me, come clean - imgonnagetyouback

i, i hear thе whispers in your eyes / i’ll make you wanna think twice / you'll find that you were never not mine / (you’re mine) - imgonnagetyouback

'cause the sign on your heart / said it's still reserved for me / honestly, who are we to fight thе alchemy? - the alchemy

i'll tell you something right now / i’d rather burn my whole life down […] i'll tell you something 'bout my good name / it’s mine alone to disgrace / i don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empath's clothing - but daddy i love him

if long-suffering propriety is what they want from me / they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly / i choose you and me religiously - guilty as sin?

[sevenpoyo]

MILES G. MORALES CURRENT STUDENT INVOLVEMENT FILE

>LOG IN CONFIRMED >LOG IN TIME RECORDED >HELLO . >GUEST STAFF!< Notes for new office staff• •OOD- out of dorm. •All updated files will appear italicized until the new information can be confirmed and encrypted properly! Let’s all work hard to have a good year! —————————————————————— Let’s work as a team to keep our files and records secure and up to date! Double encrypt ALL files not related to regulatory procedures. Thank you! —Your Visions Brooklyn branch office staff♡!

Miles G. Morales

Currently a student of Future Visions Private Academy for the preparation of the practically and speculatively advanced, or, the last light of Brooklyn as some call it.

Miles doesn’t call it that.

Miles G. Morales, is a student at Future Visions Private Academy that some teachers don’t particularly enjoy having.

In true clarity, the majority of his instructor at Visions Academy for the Technically and Practically skilled do not like Miles Morales. 

And in their very socially esteemed opinion, he doesn’t make himself easy for them to like,

not when his uncle picks him up from a class of checks him out of his dorm at least twice a week, for reasons only cited as, “bonding activities”

or when he’s ahead in his work, but distracted or even disinterested in their classes, like he has something better to do.

or when the head of the English department is convinced that he’s sneaking out and his roommate and best friend is covering for him, though, he has no conclusive proof.

Still, it’s a point to be mentioned.

or when, most offensive of all, when desperate all this he’s easily outclassing their best, their legacy students, 

These students whose families have oh so generously donated club rooms and gyms to the school.

It’s absurd really, these students have been training to be the best, training to keep people like him in their proper place in the social order. he’s supposed to be one of those people that are smart enough to use, 

but for some reason it’s as if he’s read that version of his story, carved in stone, created from the day he was born or the day he became who he are, or whenever, and in some insane, incalculable bid of rebellion, he’s spray painted over it.

But, the words are still on the stone under his colorful, creative rebellion,

And maybe his fate can’t be changed.

maybe no ones can be.

FILE UNLOCKED!

GENERAL STUDENT INFO

NAME- Miles G. Morales

CURENT GRADE LEVEL- 10

CLASS SCHEDULE- currently unentered due to re-enrollment issues.

BEHAVIORAL RECORDS - N/A

TRUANCY RECORDS - Chronically absent, not currently a candidate for any teacher/guardian involvement.

VISIONS SCHOLAR LOG

Enrolled as one of Brooklyn’s 2022 lottery students. 

maintained grades to hold lottery enrollment 

Currently dormmed part time, should be making plans to transfer full time.

FRESHMAN YEAR EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES- N/A

SOPHOMORE YEAR EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES- Engineering and Technology/ Robotics Comp • mandatory OOD student participation

GUARDIAN SIGN IN/OUT LIST

Rio Morales— mother PRIMARY CONTACT

cell-********** work-**********-4221 (hospital extension)

Aaron Davis—paternal uncle

OTHER/PERSONAL NOTES

Nothing of note personal

some transfer files in correctly marked as Wiles, please disregard.

FILE END

make sure to save updates and inform I.T.!

BYE BYE!!-☆♪

I know Miles G. Probably doesn’t go to visions bc the whole burning and overrun city thing but I like school settings in fics and visions is such an underused setting for e-42 world building. I swear someone could cook with this and it’s gonna have to be me because if no one else will I’m gonna write what I wanna read. Haven’t decided 100% when I’ll introduce a reader but if I do it’ll switch between being centered on miles and the reader.

[nightshadow1607]

Aizawa: I'm not mad, I just want to know why you two need a fake ID?

Midoriya: *mumbles*

Aizawa: What was that?

Shinsou: *sighs* You need to be over 18 at PetCo to hold the puppies

--

Izuku: *does something reckless*

Iida: Midoriya, how could you do this? You are so reckelss!

Also Iida: *goes after Stain to murder him*

--

Kid Izuku: So I have this nice rock

Kid Izuku: Kacchan gave it to me

Kid Bakugou: I threw it at you

Kid Izuku: Kacchan is so cool

--

Vigilante/Villain Izuku, rolling down the car window: What seems to be the problem here, officer?

Tsukauchi: Get out of my car

--

Shigaraki: Time for plan G

Mr. Compress: Don't you mean plan B?

Shigaraki: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties

Himiko: What about plan D?

Shigaraki: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago

Twice: What about plan E?

Shigaraki: I'm hoping not to use it. I die in plan E

Dabi: I like plan E

--

Sero: Why are you smiling?

Bakugou: What? Can't I just be happy?

Kirishima: Midoriya tripped and fell down the stairs

--

Vigilante Izuku: Physically I'm here but spiritually I'm lying in a Waffle House parking lot somewhere, slowly bleeding out from several stabbing wounds

Vigilante Shinsou: Mood

--

Bakugou, angrily: ARE YOU-

Todoroki: fucking

Bakugou: KIDDING ME?! YOU-

Todoroki: fucking

Bakugou: IDIOT

Uraraka: ... what was that?

Todoroki: Aizawa-sensei banned Bakugou from swearing, so I volunteered to help him out

--

Hizashi: WHY AREN'T THERE ADULT-SIZED PLAYGROUNDS?!

Nemuri: Like, everything is the same as kids' playgrounds but bigger! Why don't we have those?!

Aizawa: Theme parks. Just theme parks

Hizashi: but you have to PAY for theme parks!

Aizawa: That's the adult part

--

Young Aizawa: I want to be a caterpillar

Young Oboro: Elaborate

Young Aizawa: Eat a lot, sleep for a while. Wake up beautiful

Young Hizashi: You know that they have a lifespan of like two weeks, right?

Young Aizawa: That's another highlight-

Young Oboro & Hizashi: Shouta, NO--

--

Hizashi: Truth or Dare?

Shinsou: Truth

Hizashi: How many hours have you slept this week?

Shinsou: Dare

Aizawa: Go to sleep

Shinsou: I don't like this game

--

Izuku, T-posing in the doorway: Greetings, parental figure

Aizawa, not looking up from his coffee: Good morning, problem child

--

Jirou: You remind me of the ocean

Shinsou: Because I'm deep and mysterious?

Jirou: No, because you're full of salt and you scare people

--

Dabi: Here's a funny idea: We hang a mistletoe, bit instead of kissing the person underneath, we have to fight them.

Kurogiri: We are not doing this

Himiko, nodding: Mistlefoe

Magne: Don't encourage her!

--

Vigilante Izuku: *breaks a window while Shinsou is sleeping*

Vigilante Izuku: Hey Toshi, I-- Stop screaming, It's me-- I need help

--

Bakugou: Did you guys buy the eggs I asked?

Mina: Even better!

Bakugou: ...what did you do?

Kaminari, holding a chicken: Here!

Mina: Her name is Kyle!

--

Immortal Izuku: Fuck, I wanna die!

Aizawa: Language

Immortal Izuku: Hickity heck, I crave death

--

Yagi: Aizawa-san, call the kids. They're not listening to me

Aizawa: I'm not their dad

Yagi: Just do it

Aizawa, to Class 1-A: *sigh* Okay everyone! Line up, we're going back to the dorms!

Class 1-A: *immediately following like ducklings*

Yagi:

Aizawa: NO! listen, LISTEN, I'm not their--

--

Aizawa: Hello, people who don't live here

Hizashi: Heya!

Nemuri: Hi!

Tensei: Hello!

Aizawa: I gave you the key for emergencies

Hizashi: We were out of food

--

Vigilante Izuku, talking to Shinsou: If I run and jump at Eraser, he will definitely catch me

Vigilante Izuku: *runs at Aizawa*

Aizawa: KID, NO, I'M HOLDING COFFEE--

Aizawa: *drops coffee to catch Izuku*

--

Shinsou: *recording videos with Class 1-A* I have no intentions of being friends

Shinsou: *playing videogames with everyone* You're all stepping stones to my success

Shinsou: *baking a cake for Kaminari's birthday* Friends are a distraction

Shinsou: *in a group hug* Disgusting

--

Vigilantes Izuku and Shinsou: *watching the neighborhood kids play*

Vigilante Shinsou: Look at them. They're having so much fun. They're so happy

Vigilante Izuku: Yeah

Vigilante Izuku: How long do you think it'll be until they lose their will to live?

Vigilante Shinsou: I don't remember ever having one

Vigilante Izuku: Yeah, those kids are doomed

incorrect quotes because why not? (part 6)

[littlerequiem]

— enchanted ˚⁎⁺ levi ackerman x gn!reader

CONTENT — A Howl's Moving Castle inspired one-shot featuring Wizard Levi and a Violin Maker Reader. No real warnings, just some fluff about first encounters, Levi's POV (wc: 1.1k)

The rhythmic sound of coins being deposited into the till ceases.

Levi looks up as you finish recording the transaction of his payment in a notebook, a magical quill transcribing your thoughts directly onto the paper. Despite the help, you remain concentrated on your task, creases forming between your brows. 

Levi studies you.

You are as he last remembers, but different.

Your essence is the same, but your strength is yet to be discovered. 

And you are more modest than he remembers. You wear a simple straw hat, which doesn't have any woven details nor ribbons to adorn it. 

All things considered, it is a rather plain hat. But perhaps its most offensive transgression is the fact that it is worn by someone as special as you.

Oh yes, Levi wasn’t sure when he spotted you in the crowds in the bustling town of Market Chipping, but now, he is certain of it.

It’s you.  

And someone of your caliber? 

You deserve the finest silk hats. 

You deserve to be far away from a step-sister who mistreats you and takes advantage of your skills as an artisan. 

You deserve to open your own shop, in a town you choose for yourself.  

You just deserve more. 

“I hope you enjoy your violin, Sir,” you say to him, tearing him out of his observations. Your voice is low and collected, as though you are afraid to draw attention to yourself.

You hand him a package—the violin he just bought—wrapped carefully in a leather-bound box. It is one of the finest instruments Levi has ever seen, but that you're the one who crafted it makes it priceless. 

Levi says nothing as he takes his new purchase in his two hands. He tucks it under one arm and continues to stare at you. 

Behind the counter, trinkets float around the different violins on display, jewels of all colors gleaming and reflecting a myriad of colors on your skin. It is a beautiful and delicate sight, and Levi secretly wonders how you would look surrounded by more colors.  

At Levi’s silence, you follow his gaze and catch what he is staring at. 

“Oh, those?” you let out, a timid smile creeping up on your lips. You reach out into the air, and various gems hover around your fingertips, like metal attracted to a magnet. “These are enchanted gemstones. We sell them to musicians looking for a muse. Our local Witch has charmed them to float around like this. Catchy, isn’t it?”  

As you finish explaining your story, you pluck one stone that’s swirling above you. You turn and offer it to him, opening your palm.

It’s a pink stone, etched with sharp corners and glistening surfaces.  

“It is said that each stone brings a different kind of luck to its owner,” you explain, a gleam of light reflecting onto your cheeks as you twirl the stone around. “This one’s a rose quartz. It’s meant to promise long lasting love.”

Levi's lips twitch at the sight of the stone.

Long lasting love, huh?

Of course, Levi recognizes the pink gem—he recognized it the moment he walked into the shop. It is the same stone that you wore as a necklace in his past when you first saved him.

Despite this, he still finds himself asking you:  “Why hand me this one?” 

Levi still doesn’t retrieve the gem from your hand, allowing you to finish your sales pitch. 

You blink, your eyes flickering to him. Your expression is riddled with uncertainty, as if you didn’t expect Levi would be interested in what you had to say. 

You swallow a heavy breath, your hand faltering.

“D’you know what? I don’t understand it myself. It just… felt right. Isn’t that strange?” You bite your bottom lip nervously. “Here, you keep it—it’s on the house.” 

You bring your hand closer to his own, offering him the stone. 

But Levi waves a hand in the air to refuse.

“No,” Levi answers coolly. “This isn’t a charity.”

He sees you frown, appearing taken aback.

Levi gestures to the stone still in your hand. “But I would like to buy it.” 

A victorious grin creeps on your lips, as though you didn’t believe your speech might lead to this turn of events. You nod, looking oddly satisfied with yourself. 

“Alright then,” you hum. You tell him the price of the stone and he hands you the change. Before handing him his new possession, you give him a curious stare. “What name should I put on both receipts?”

He stills.

“Levi Ackerman,” he answers, studying you carefully to gauge your reaction.

You look up at him. Recognition flashes on your face and you appear startled. Afraid, perhaps.

“Oh.” There’s a tremor to your voice that wasn’t there before. “Are you… the Levi Ackerman? Humanity’s Strongest Wizard?” 

Levi crosses his arms over his chest. The term Humanity Strongest was first coined many years ago, when he was still an apprentice and his mastery of magic was deemed extraordinary.

He hates the title. 

“Fucking pretentious, isn’t it?” Levi comments, the muscles on his face tensing. 

You seem to relax upon hearing Levi's response, the same smile ghosting your face. “Well, it is a bit much. Couldn’t settle for a title with less… flair?”  

“Believe me, I would have loved to,” Levi mutters. 

The corner of your mouth lift upwards. “I suppose Humanity’s Okay-est Wizard doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, huh?”

Levi shrugs. “I think I would settle for just Levi, if I could,” he confesses.

Levi wants to say that he’d settle for you calling him like that, but he refrains himself. That would be way too forward of him and way too creepy of a thing to hear from someone you don’t even know.

But Levi knows you.

(He’s known you for many years.) 

For him, to hear his name on your lips would be as natural as the wind blowing through the valley of this town.

There’s a gleam in your eyes now, the beginning of a fire Levi recognizes. “Alright, just Levi. Tell me, do you believe in the properties of stones?”

Levi clicks his tongue in a way that it hisses through his teeth, amusement and disbelief blending on his face.

“Not really.” Levi gazes at you thoughtfully. “But maybe one day.” 

You give him a curious look and place the gem into his palm. The contact of your fingertips against his skin sizzles. 

Levi pockets the stone, burning the memory of you in his mind. He’ll gift you the necklace one day, and you'll both see that the properties of the stone are true.

But before that, your own story has to start.

See you soon, Violin Maker.

— Masterlist

[todaysdocument]

1st Lieutenant James Reese Europe and the 369th Infantry Regiment Band (the Harlem Hellfighters) play for patients in the American Red Cross Hospital No. 9, Paris, France, September 4, 1918.

Record Group 111: Records of the Office of the Chief Signal Officer

Series: Photographs of American Military Activities

Image description: 1st Lieutenant Europe conducts a brass band who are standing in rows outside a building. All of the men are wearing WWI Army uniforms. A sign in the background reads HOTEL TUNIS. This regiment, the “Harlem Hellfighters,” was made up of all Black soldiers. 

Transcription:

SUBJECT: 111SC 218880

NUMBER E

see 20417

2nd Lt. G. E. Stone, S.C.

PHOTOGRAPHER

REC'D 10-14-18

TAKEN 9-4-18

FIRST LT. JAMES E. EUROPE OF the 369th Regt. Inf. playing for the patients of Hospital No. 9. Sgt. Wood Andrews is the first musician on the right and plays the slide trombone. American Red Cross Hospital No. 9, Paris, France.

[periwinkle-musings]

Did Taylor Swift write "Sweet Nothing" about Paul McCartney and his wife's summer in Wicklow in 1971?

The song "Sweet Nothing" on Taylor Swift's Midnights has always stood out to me as a bit of an anomaly. Until this intriguing quote by Paul McCartney caught my eye:

In a 2001 ABC interview about his wife Linda, who passed away in 1998, Paul McCartney said:

"I would go out for a run, think of some words, get home from the run, write them down, and make a cup a tea for Linda," said McCartney, who would bring it to her for breakfast. "I'd make a little tray, and go up, and then I'd say, 'Hey, by the way, do you want to hear some poetry?' She'd always … she'd say, 'Yeah.' And so I wrote that poem." 'Blessed.' I would come back from a run. With lines of poetry to tell. And having listened, she would say "What a mind."

This is a direct quote and exact same storyline as in "Sweet Nothing." There is NO WAY that is a coincidence. So I wanted to see if Paul and Linda had any connection to Wicklow - the place mentioned in the song. 

I think the McCartney family vacationed at the Luggala Estate in Co. Wicklow, Ireland in the summer of 1971 as an escape from the aftermath of the Beatles breakup.

A sweet Wicklow love story:

Paul McCartney has connections to Luggala going back to 1965-1966 when he partied at the estate with Guinness Brewing heir Tara Browne who was killed in a car accident a few months after his raucous 21st birthday, and inspired the Beatles song "A Day in the Life." Paul was close to Tara and his death deeply impacted him. This Rolling Stone article details their relationship and mentions that Paul has visited Luggala to visit Tara's gravesite since then on "numerous occasions." Paul had not met his wife Linda yet while Tara was alive, but this proves Paul's deep and personal ties to the family and their 5,000 acre private estate in the Wicklow Mountains, which continued to be a private retreat for celebrity guests until it was sold in 2019.

Paul McCartney has posted multiple family photos taken by his wife in the summer of 1971 that appear to be taken near the Luggala Estate in Co. Wicklow. He tweeted this photo on St. Patricks day in 2017 which a previous Reddit thread links to Wicklow in 1971. And recently on March 2022 he tweeted this photo which appears to be taken the same day judging by his shirt and his dog, and credits the photo as being taken by his wife (she was a professional photographer) in Ireland in 1971. Here you have a better view of the surrounding mountains and rocky streams (full of pebbles I'd imagine...) It's notable that the second photo was posted March 2022 around the time when Taylor would be writing and recording the Midnights album.

If you look at the aerial view of Luggala Estate (Now showing on Google Maps as Luggala Lodge), I believe that these photos were taken in one of the rocky streams that feed into the private lake...which is named Lough Tay. (I like to think it's an extra little wink from Taylor that this investigation literally led me to a lake named Lough Tay.)

This area is completely private and the closest public access is from a hiking overlook. This seems like a great place for one of the most famous musicians in the world to hide out with his two young children, 2 dogs, and Linda, who would have been pregnant with Stella McCartney (born Sept 13, 1971).

We know that the family and their dogs were in Ireland in the summer of 1971 from this newspaper article where they were photographed at an airport in August leaving Ireland, which means it's possible that they were in Wicklow a few weeks earlier in July.

Even though The Beatles broke up in 1969, it continued to be messy between members of the band and the financials involved for the next few years. During the summer of 1971 Paul McCartney and John Lennon were embroiled in a very public fight. There were lawsuits and scathing letters (dated 1971) and it's all very complicated so I won't go into it here, but this article has a good overview.

The lyric, "Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors and smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other" could reference these incidents. I could see Taylor relating to Paul going through this public turmoil surrounding business with former friends, because it is similar to what she's going through with her masters.

The lyric "You're in the kitchen humming" could reference Linda's passion for cooking and vegetarian activism. She literally founded a food company and wrote a cookbook. This darling photo on her website shows her cooking at the family home in Scotland in the 1970s. Linda was also a singer and recorded many songs with Paul, so the idea that she could be "humming" makes sense.

Taylor Swift has been friends with the McCartney family for a while. She first met Paul in 2010. She collaborated with Stella McCartney in 2019 for a clothing line as part of the Lover era, and Stella also dressed her for the Evermore album cover in 2020.

Taylor and Paul McCartney famously interviewed each other for Rolling Stone's "Musicians on Musicians" in 2020. In this article they mention how they both like writing under pseudonyms.

But the most surprising thing I learned is that Paul actually wrote a song dedicated to Taylor and her relationship with her fans called "Who Cares."

Notably, the music video also features Taylor's longtime friend Emma Stone wearing rainbow makeup in an otherwise black-and-white world full of cartoonish bullies. It's notable that the music video was released Dec 2018, right before the Lover era would kick off a few months later. Perhaps Paul was showing a bit of preemptive support for Taylor as she embarked on what many of us believe was intended to be her coming out era?

Now to the William Bowery of it all:

Taylor clearly wants us to think Sweet Nothing is about Joe because of the Wicklow name drop, where Joe was papped in July 2021, which looks staged to me.

Interestingly, I can't find any photos of Taylor being seen anywhere near Wicklow, but for some reason she staged a whole photoshoot in Northern Ireland in July, where locals said she "arrived and left by helicopter in a fleeting visit."

She was also seen in several different locations in Belfast in fan photos. This article also says part of Red TV was recorded in Belfast.

Clearly she wanted to be seen and linked to Northern Ireland, and the lyric easily could have been "Does it ever miss Belfast sometimes?" (same number of syllables) but it's not.

"Sweet Nothing" does have a William Bowery co-writing credit. Would Sir Paul McCartney agree to a secret writing credit? Maybe.

I read an interesting twitter thread from a lawyer (who is a Gaylor) that discusses how William Bowery could be a name under which Taylor commissions writing "for hire." Meaning it could be Joe or multiple other people writing under that pseudonym, as opposed to the "Willam Bowery" (spelled different) which is listed as a U.S. Citizen.

Even if Paul wasn't involved in writing the song, I believe he inspired "Sweet Nothing."

---

Note: This theory was originally posted on the R/GaylorSwift subreddit Dec 22, 2022 which is currently set to private. I am the original author of the Reddit post (u/-periwinkle), and am reblogging it on my Tumblr because this theory has been gaining traction and I wanted to create a public version. This version has been slightly expanded and updated with better images. Also, I was not the first person to uncover the "what a mind" quote, and the original person who found it is tagged on Reddit.

[maggiemacabre]

SiIvaGunner SmashUp! Behind the scenes and post-mortem

Hello folks and welcome to my new Tumblr blog. I don't know how much I'm going to actually use this thing in the future but I figure if I need it, it's here. As you can probably tell by the title, today's subject will be none other than my most recent "work", the SiIvaGunner SmashUp!

The idea of a SiIvaGunner take on the concept of "Royal Rumble but full of stupid contestants" was in my head for a while, but the motivation to do it wasn't in place until I found Dead Meat's Horror Royal Rumble in August or September of 2023. The Jerma Rumbles and Vinewrestle were definitely also influences on the idea, but the Horror Royal Rumble was the impetus, and played a part in influencing some creative choices featured in the SmashUp (more on that later).

After running the idea by the team and the rest of backroom, I picked up WWE 2K23 (which fortuitously was on sale that weekend) and got to work. Going in, I had next to no idea of the ins and outs of pro wrestling, which meant that I had to do a lot of research into things like the wrestlers themselves, moves, terminology, different match types, general historical stuff, how shows are actually presented, etc. This put me in a very, very deep rabbit hole which I have still not crawled out of. I even went to two house shows!

Making the wrestlers was the first step and by far took the longest amount of time out of anything, since this was the first show of its kind on the channel and required the creation of 34 unique wrestlers. Some of them were easier than others (lookin' at you AMUNO), but others such as Ninomae Ina'nis took days to complete due to the amount of detail they required. This also isn't including wrestlers who were made that got cut; some of these exclusions include Bottom G, who was left out because Andrew Tate sucks, Elly from Touhou Project, who was replaced by Sumireko, and Wood Man, who was left out for lore reasons and replaced with 8-Bit Beast in a somewhat 11th hour decision. Maybe next year?

The decision to make Hot Cross Buns and Raft Ride into women also spawned from this period. Hot Cross Buns was made first and was originally meant to show up in the Grand Rumble, but after some time I ended up deciding to move her to her own match, which became a Women's World Champion match because lol. I had to use mods to make the men and women able to fight each other, so theoretically Raft Ride could have been a man, but women are awesome.

Being an egotistical maniac, I also included some references to things I'd worked on in the past. Totino's Stadium, the arena where the match takes place, was first mentioned in the FUMO JAM ad from the DJ Professor K Day stream, and Nu Grandiose City is the city where Woodyana is from in Woodyana Stones: Raider Made of Lost Bark. Also I guess this is why Elvira was included? LOL. Fun fact: The footage of "Totino's Stadium" is actually of Gazprom Arena in Russia.

Since I was involved with the channel's MAGFest panel in 2024, I was able to announce the show months in advance, although I'm not sure how many people actually paid attention at the time. Getting a logo ready between finishing CCC and MAG was a bit tight, but thankfully it was able to be done on time, and on top of that I was able to make the big card poster thing on my own. I actually designed it to be printed, and I proposed making it a sold item, although that idea was rejected. I also came up with the date during this period, choosing the day right before the WWE Hall of Fame show, and while things got a bit close to the wire, it was luckily able to make the date and time without a hitch in the end.

After all the wrestlers were made, it was time to record and edit. I was a bit worried about my laptop overheating while doing so, but I was able to get good quality 60 FPS 1080p footage recorded without any hitches other than some human error on my end. While the controversial ending of the Grand Rumble wasn't what I had in mind, I ended up leaving it as-is for time reasons and also because it felt like a funny troll ending. Which it was! Editing was not quite as smooth since I had to go through all the footage and edit it together into a cohesive product. WWE games don't allow you to cut to entrances during a Royal Rumble, which meant that I had to record and edit those in myself. The method I ended up using resembled the one from the Dead Meat rumble mentioned earlier with cuts to the audience as the buzzer rings, although I'd like to believe I did a better job than they did with their 2024 entrances where they awkwardly cut around shots of the ring. This is also where the fun facts come from, as they are actually covering up the nameplates that show up as an alternative to cutting to the entrances.

After editing was done I got some other team members to do commentary. Thankfully I was able to get someone with wrestling knowledge, which definitely added a dimension of realism and legitimacy to the project. I don't know if I can say who the announcers are because of leaks, but if you haven't figured it out, Randall Shields is a Smash Bros. reference. Also it was the first contribution to SiIvaGunner that had "Randall" made in about half a decade. What a return!

The premiere of the project was electric. Seeing over 1.3K people tune in and get hype over something I made was incredible and made my week, if not month. I did feel a little bad about the reaction when Dream came in (💀), but other than that it was awesome. And don't worry, he won't return.

In the end, I had a lot of fun with the project and it was awesome seeing everything pay off. I want to thank everyone who helped, including the artists who designed the logos and the people who did commentary. It couldn't have come together without help and assistance from everyone, and I hope that this becomes the first in a series of similar videos.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Aware of Abuse AU

Nino in this is a little fascinating to me, cause I can’t see him NOT becoming friends with Adrien. I can see them maybe not being super close, especially at first, but I can’t see them being enemies. But I can also see Nino becoming the first class kid (outside Sabrina, and I’m not sure how she counts) to really GET the rich kid trio, and start trying to make proper friends with them.

Like, Just How I See This In My Head

(sorry to put this under a readmore but it’s a little long)

So, we have the first day shenanigans, who knows what, but we still have a bit of seat drama. Adrien ends up sitting in the front on Chloé’s side, Sabrina and Chloé behind him (protecting him, but shhhhh, that wasn’t on PURPOSE). Which means that there’s an empty seat next to Adrien, and … no one really wants to sit IN FRONT of Chloé. It’s not that they think she’ll DO something, but it Makes most of them uncomfortable. Like, no one’s being explicit about it (except maybe Marinette) but everyone’s reluctant to take that seat. So, Nino decides, “welp, someone’s gotta sit there. New kid doesn’t seem too bad, questionable friends aside” and plops himself down, introduces himself to Adrien.

Like, keep in mind, he’s been in the same class as Chloé for most of his school life, but Nino isn’t someone who’d be much on Chloé radar. He isn’t her friend (Sabrina) or her “obstacle./rival/jealousy-crush (Marinette). He and Chloé probably butted heads a few times, but nothing serious. Plus, she doesn’t mutter (Max) or kick the chair in front of her (Kim). She’s a tolerable seat mate. If it gets bad, well. He has headphones. He can probably just ignore her.

So, like, Nino takes the seat, introduces himself. Adrien starts to light up, because yay! New friend! But Nino probably still asks why he’s friends with Chloé. His light dims a bit. He gets quiet. He’s seen today why he’d ask, but he’s also seen other shit. He’s BEEN through some shit. He’s also been through the WRINGER today, fighting a giant stone monster did a NUMBER on him. He’s TIRED. So Adrien responds in a way he might not normally. "If you knew her, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

Nino’s a bit taken aback - that is a … weirdly solemn, serious response?? vaguely concerning?? - but decides, ok, sure. Why not? That could be a valid point, Nino doesn’t actually know Chloé personally, despite them being in school together most of their lives. She could genuinely be nice to some people. Or she could be a manipulative fuck, again, Nino doesn’t actually know her that well personally. Maybe she’s a decent person to people she considers “worthwhile” or some shit. Maybe she’s brainwashed Adrien like most of the class think she did to Sabrina. Who knows? Not Nino. But he doesn’t have to be a dick about it. If Chloé’s an amazing friend to Adrien, awesome. Maybe he’ll help mellow her out. If she’s actually the Anti-Christ, Nino can hopefully provide an example of a good friend for Adrien to look at and realize he deserves better.

(For the record, Nino does NOT think Chloé is devil spawn, he’s just looking at the two most extreme possibilities in his head)

So, he nods, concedes the point - “Yeah, that’s fair. We don’t really hang.” Adrien lights up a bit more, pleased. They chat a bit, about school, hobbies. (Behind them, Chloé’s in a state of shock, because what??? Someone??? Admitted she might?? Be good?? Not bad?? In a roundabout way, BUT STILL????!?)

So Adrien and Nino are … maybe not FRIENDS right away, but FRIENDLY. They talk. They exchange numbers. Adrien misses a day for a photoshoot, and Nino helps Sabrina take his notes. Nino still mostly hangs out with Marinette, Alya, the rest of the class, but he makes time to hang with Adrien too. At first just them, wandering around Paris, or hanging in his bedroom, but slowly, Nino gets invited to hang with Adrien, Chloé and Sabrina, sometimes Kagami.

And like … It’s awkward. We won’t pretend it’s not. But while Chloé is blunt, sometimes rude, she isn’t going out of her way to be MEAN. Isolated from the environment Nino’s used to seeing her in, it becomes really clear that Chloé just doesn’t have many other ways to interact with the world, and either has difficulty learning, or in a few cases doesn’t see the point. Away from everyone else, she’s also much more friendly to Sabrina - tries to talk her up more, get her to take more agency (maybe … not always in the best way, but she’s TRYING). And like, hanging with her at the mall, and then seeing her in school is a bit of whiplash for behaviour, but like. Now Nino’s SEEN her be a decent person with stunted social skills. He doesn’t think it EXCUSES anything, but like. He no longer buys Marinette’s “Rich Brat, Perfect Life” rant.

I think the big turning point for all of them would be Nino finding out how much their jokes about their parents aren’t exaggerated jokes. They aren’t “this is funny cause it’s ‘out there’” the jokes are “this funny cause it’s true”.

Cause like. At first, Nino honestly believes thats what they are. “The gates of hell would open before my dad threw me a birthday party.” / “I think my mother would fire me, if it wouldn’t look bad for the press.” “Like, fire you from being her daughter, or set you on fire?” “Yes.” / “Do you think my dad would notice if I pierced my ears?” “Oh, absolutely! Can’t have the face of his brand altered without prior agreement!” “True, true. What about you?” “Oh, I could dye my hair a different colour every day for a month and he wouldn’t notice.”

Like, Nino thinks it might just be some weird, rich people thing? It doesn’t help that, like, Adrien and Chloé don’t tend to make that many of those sort of jokes around him. I mean, they might know their parents suck, but they don’t want anyone ELSE to. It’s personal. Other people won’t get it. They don’t want pity. Whatever the reason, they try to keep the jokes on the downlow when hanging out with Nino. So, Nino doesn’t get the full force. A few black humour style jokes like that are … concerning, but Nino doesn’t think they’re, like, full on awful. Maybe a bit “rich parent neglectful” but like. Not bad, right? His friends aren’t in that bad of a situation, right?

I like to think the tipping point is a slip up. Something dramatic, because. I mean. Look at these kids. Drama follows them.

Like, say Nino’s over at Adrien’s. Gabriel is out for the day, which means the two have run of the place. They’re relaxing, playing video games, whatever, when Chloé bursts into the room in tears. Nino’s so shocked he falls off the sofa.

Chloé, however, doesn’t even look at him. No, all her focus is on Adrien, cause GUESS WHAT MUMMY DEAREST DID NOW!? Maybe it was a dinner gone wrong. A gift turned sour. A random argument. But just because Chloé KNOWS her mom is a bitch, doesn’t mean it hurts any less when Audrey demeans her. When she knows which nerves to hit and buttons to press. She’s ranting, sobbing about how, oh, of course she did this, why am I even surprised, I should have expected this, honestly. I knew what she was going to do, why open my big mouth!? It’s ridiculous, utterly-!

Chloé stops. Because she just noticed Nino. Who is having a horrible paradigm shift, realizing oh. Those jokes were NOT exaggerated. His friends’ parents ARE that bad. They DO suck that much.

Chloé’s ready to start falling apart all over again, because god, could she GET any more pathetic, she just spilled her guts in front-! She didn’t even SEE him, why wasnt she more careful-! Adrien is trying to figure out damage control. Nino can see them both panicking, and just says, “We could sell her kneecaps on eBay.”

Chloé & Adrien: “… . what?”

Nino, straight faced: “eBay. I heard kneecaps go for a lot, these days.”

Adrien, after a pause: “Audrey’s though?”

Nino: *shrugs* “I mean, I don’t think we’d get much for them, especially once they’ve been shattered, but I still think we could get SOMETHING.”

More silence.

Nino: “Like … four dollars? I’m pretty sure we could get at LEAST four dollars. Maybe some old, chewed gum. Some dryer lint, if we feel like pushing it.”

Chloé, starting to smile a little: “… Mom has security.”

Nino: “I have a nine-iron, a taser, and six years of parkour. Also, I’m pretty sure Max has access to the dark web, and he owes me a no-questions-asked favour.”

-

Yes!! YES!!!!!

This is the vibes I am imagining!!

[dinodorks]

"A team of Spanish and Portuguese paleontologists uncovered G. morellensis’remains while working at the Sant Antoni de la Vespa fossil site between 2005 and 2008. The region, which is located near the city of Morella in eastern Spain, has produced numerous dinosaur fossils. But researchers say many more remain buried, and further excavations could help reveal even more about its past. “Here in this region, we say that ‘tota pedra fa paret’—every stone makes a wall—and this stone is helping to build the paleontological wall, because it is big,” says study co-author José Miguel Gasulla, a paleontologist at Spain’s National University of Distance Education (UNED), to El País’ María Pitarch. They discovered vertebrae, leg bones and foot bones, which they believe belonged to at least three separate G. morellensis individuals. These sets of remains likely date to the Early Cretaceous period, which spanned roughly 145 million to 100.5 million years ago. The foot bones were especially noteworthy, as paleontologists unearthed “two almost complete and articulated feet,” which is “particularly rare in the geological record,” Mocho says in a statement. They can’t tell exactly how large G. morellensis could have grown. But they do know from the creatures’ bones that it was massive: Some of the vertebrae they discovered were 3.3 feet wide, and one of the femurs was 6.6 feet long. According to their estimates, these dinosaurs may have been 33 feet tall and likely ate between 66 and 88 pounds of vegetation each day, per El País. The dinosaur’s name is also a nod to its colossal size, as well as the geography of the region, according to the statement. Garumbatitan means “the giant of the Garumba” and refers to Muela de la Garumba, a mountain peak in the Els Ports region of Spain near where the fossils were discovered. Morellensis, meanwhile, is a reference to the nearby city of Morella."

Read more: "New ‘Giant’ Species of Long-Necked Dinosaur Discovered in Spain" by Sarah Kuta.

[meraki-yao]

TN Candies Part 5

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3/Part 4

And as promised, I’m back with more candies! And a quick preface, at the request of OP, I’ve removed all mentions and links to OP’s account, but please bear in mind that this is a translation/summary

Usual Disclaimers:

This post contains content regarding real-person shipping. If you’re uncomfortable with the subject, again, please don’t read under the post

This is a translation and summary of a post on Weibo, not my original findings or thoughts. I am just the translator and messenger

Please remember that the people who do this do it in good nature.They don’t mean any harm, and they don’t cause any harm because China is physically and digitally too far away for them to actually fuck shit up, and they understand the lines of parasocial relationships: those who met with Taylor during his China trip in December know to, and didn’t bring up this in front of him. They know where to draw the line, and whoever doesn’t and starts becoming a problem gets kicked out of the community. This is meant for fun.

Per OP's request, please DO NOT repost my translations to Twitter.

Today’s post is about the overlaps in Taylor and Nick’s social circles

Taylor’s Family and Friends:

As mentioned in part 1, after the Academy Museum Gala, Taylor’s sister Ash (who has a public Instagram account) reposted three photos from Taylor’s post of the night to her Instagram stories: Two of Taylor’s portraits, and the photo of Taylor and Nick. Interestingly, she posted the photo with both boys twice.

A close friend of Taylor’s started following Nick on social media on 5th December last year, and liked a couple of his posts. He was the one who revealed that Taylor was attending several different parties on Oscars night (Governor Ball and Vanity Fair). Interestingly, he never revealed Taylor’s schedule/plans before, but did so the one time Taylor was heading to an event that Nick was already attending.

Taylor’s uncle follows @/nicktaylor, the Taylor and Nick updates fan account on Instagram

Taylor’s nephew only liked two of Taylor’s posts on Instagram, which happened to be the ones that Nick liked

Taylor’s cousin and another sister follow Nick on Instagram and liked a couple of his posts.

Taylor’s good friends with the producer of TIOY, Gabrielle Union, they were at the Burberry show together. Funnily enough Gabrielle first posted the new of TIOY trailer breaking record on her story, then it was followed by a photo of her and Taylor at the Oscar After party

@/thisjenna was both Taylor’ stylist for the SAG Awards and Nick’s stylist from SXSW

Nick’s Family and Friends:

As mentioned in part 2, Nick’s sister and only sibling, Lexi started following Taylor on Instagram starting from last December during the Christmas holidays and liked a couple of Taylor’s photoshoot posts that has nothing to do with Nick.

Camila Cabello, Nick’s close friend and co-star from Cinderella 2021 likes to tease Nick (as close friends would): After the GQ MOTY event where both Nick and Taylor were in attendance, Nick said “My Taylor” instead of “My Taylor impression”, wore the Cartier watch mentioned in part 1 and 4 for the first time in public, and left early, Camila commented “somebody is Gua Sha’ing” Gua Sha 刮痧 is a Traditional Chinese healing method that uses a smooth stone to stroke and press on the patient’s skin, which leaves the skin red (Meraki: my mom did it for me yesterday and God it hurt like a bitch) so TL DR she’s teasing him about his blushing, and he replied “you’re out of control” And under Taylor’s post from the Oscar After Party with the photo of the three of them, she straight up commented “Throuple alert”

One of the actresses from Cinderella who’s close with Nick, whose Instagram account is followed by both Nick and Lexi liked a RWRB post from Prime’s main Instagram account

Tony Curran, King James from M&G, as mentioned in part 3 liked a bunch of RWRB/Firstprince and Taylor posts on Twitter (Meraki: which, what the fuck Sir) as well as liking posts from Twitter account that have Taylor as their profile pic

The official Instagram account for August Moon, the boyband in TIOY reposts a story from a Taylor Nick fan account

Members of Nick’s PR team liked both RWRB post from prime/official rwrb account and a few posts of Taylor that’s just him and has nothing to do with Nick

An actress from TIOY (who wears a blue dress in the trailer) and Jaiden Anthony, another member of August Moon (character name Adrian, but also guys please don’t go bother him over this), M&G’s costume designer, Purple Heart’s songwriter, a TIOY crew member, even Anne Hatheway’s stylist  liked RWRB posts from either the official rwrb account or prime’s main account

That’s it for part 5 and today’s update! See you in the next one on Sunday :D

Tagging a couple of folks (Lemme know if you wanna be tagged for the next one!):

@lfg1986-2 @tal-vez-o-quizas @na-18dia @mylucayathoughts @androgynoustriumphclown @hopefulblizzardsublime @whattfisausername @leimons @ghostwithatophat @badhimboi88 @pippin-katz

[choccy-zefirka]

What better birthday treat for myself than old man smut

It happens just as Zevlor dismisses his scout — the goblins are still out there, she says, in a thin, tired voice; more and more raiding parties fanning out into the wilds from the old temple that devoured Halsin.

He tells her to go rest, as calmly and reassuringly as he can, hoping that the limp, sinking motion of his tail did not betray him. Then, he turns towards the carved stone barrier. Ready to retreat into his little corner. To hide away, tired and defeated, among all those maps and books and with barely a shred of answers what to do next.

And then, the air shifts. Goosebumps prickle Zevlor's skin. Not a shiver of cold: it would take so much more than the grove’s damp drafts to chill a Tiefling... But an instinctive recognition that something has changed. Something is... missing now.

It takes him a few moments to realize what it is exactly. After so many uneasy days in this dubious shelter, it has become a constant background noise, like the distant rush of the waterfalls and the rustling of the leaves. That... That looping, repetitive droning. In different voices, as the druids have been taking turns to rest — but never ending, always present. Until now.

Zevlor turns around again and rushes up the passageway deeper into the caverns. It first climbs up, and then dips steeply down, towards the watery green light of the open clearing. This contrast gets him a little winded; gods, he really is getting old.

He gulps down a lungful of air — ah, this air; despite all the miserable parts of being stuck here, it is so fresh, so clean, so rich with living scents after the acrid smoke of Avernus.

Then, he calls out to the very first group of people he spots: Komira's little family, standing and staring ahead into the green,

"The druids have stopped their damn chanting! What happened?"

Komira's husband Locke turns to him, eyes huge with amazement.

"Zevlor! Yes, yes, they did! I didn't think they would, but — "

"It was Miss Dee!" a tiny voice cuts in, lightning-fast, words cramming into one another like stampeding hell beasts.

"I saw her with my own eyes! She went in to talk to that mean elf lady, and we all snuck in and watched! I was scared of the snake at first, but Mol was there and she squeezed my shoulder and put her finger to her lips, and I was not scared anymore!"

Suddenly, Zevlor feels himself smiling. She kept her promise — that gnome adventurer, covered in burn scars, with cracking white paint smeared round her dark-grey eyes like the sockets of a skull. Brash as a bandit; loudly proclaiming that she does not care about anything except whatever quest that tossed her in here, through sheer chance, like the careless throw of a die — yet somehow, again and again, turning up to help the Grove's children.

She is quite a character, this Dee. The more Zevlor ponders his past conversations with her — a bit of a welcome distraction in his dismal routine — the more he recalls the book he stumbled across among druids' records of the Sword Coast. A memoir of an actor playing a role. What role does she play, with her biting tongue, her sneering lips, her hoarse voice... Why is his mind so intent on circling around her mouth?

Meanwhile, in the real world, Locke gasps, and Komira's tail lashes from side to side.

"Arabella! You promised not to go back in there!"

The little girl, who has been bouncing around Zevlor, shrinks back and presses her arms — flailing with such frantic emotion just a moment ago — together in front of her.

Her tone grows more subdued, and as she goes on speaking, she scratches absent-mindedly at her right palm. Zevlor spots smears of green under her fingertips, and his thoughts snap from idle images of Dee's mouth — so pretty, even when she's swearing; it would be level with his face if he knelt before her — to concern for Arabella. Did she catch a rash from grabbing an unfamiliar plant? Will that halfling near the gate spare a salve, or are his wares too good for the "little hellspawn"?

"I am sorry, mom... But we had to see what was going to happen! Miss Dee is always so angry, and I was kinda hoping..."

Her voice is a sheepish whisper now, and the scratching is more intense. Zevlor even imagines sparks flying from under her little claws... White sparks, shaped like tiny ghostly flowers.

"I was hoping she'd beat the lady up."

Locke slants his eyes towards Zevlor.

"I... I apologize for my daughter... Saying such things! In front of a paladin, no less!"

A familiar pain twists Zevlor's insides.

"I am not a paladin any longer," he says. At least, his voice quivers only once. "And I rather... understand the sentiment towards Kagha. Go on, child. What did Miss Dee do next?"

"She pulled out some kind of letter, and said that she knows the mean lady's secret, and that the lady needs to get her f..."

Arabella's eyes dart to her mother's glowering face.

"F-funny act together before she dooms everyone in the Grove! And the mean lady just stood there, all pale and bug-eyed; and then the cute fluffy rats I tried to save from her snake once..."

Arabella's pitch begins to rise once more, towards a squeaky crescendo of excitement.

"They exploded into this golden goop, and the goop turned into people! More druids, with hard, mean faces... Meaner than the elf lady; she seemed scared of them! They started throwing spells at her, and Miss Dee, and her friends, and all the adults — not us, though, don't look at me like that, pops; we were well hidden behind one of those glowing eagle rocks! Fire, and arrows, and arrows on fire flew everywhere, and glowing green vines snapped like whips all over the place, and Miss Dee got beat up, again and again, but she kept getting up, and blasting her magic! Bright blue and purple and white; it hurt my eyes but it was so pretty!"

"Well, pretty is one way to call it."

A gruff chuckle interrupts Arabella, who leaps aside to make way for Dee herself.

Quite embarrassingly, the tip of Zevlor's tail shoots upwards when he sees her. He always forgets how he's been missing this pint-sized ruffian, until after he lays eyes on her, again and againm during her many trips between the wilderness and the Grove.

True to Arabella's words, she looks a bit worse for wear, with her usual skull warpaint all but wiped off, and her slate skin further darkened by a few bruises. But she is grinning smugly, and playing with a shimmering blot of magic, like Zevlor has seen young Doni play with a lump of clay to calm himself. She kneads the sparkling mass — lightning made into viscous liquid — between her fingers, letting it ooze into her cupped palm and then bounce up again, crackling.

Besides her, stands Kagha; or a quiet, dejected stranger wearing Kagha's face. Zevlor has never seen her so... tame. Her gaze is downcast underneath the strands of her elaborately done hair, which obscure most of her features, save for a sliver of her cheek, sporting a fresh cut.

"Well?" Dee asks her, lightning bobbing faster in her hand. "Spit it out then! Sure, you sided with us against your buddies and shit, but these people have to hear you say! The damn! Words!"

"I... I apologize," Kagha breathes out, and bows her head even lower. "For calling you parasites, for threatening your children, for denying you sanctuary... This is not the Oak Father's way."

"Fuck yeah it isn't," Dee snarls a little, and Zevlor cannot quite grasp why this makes his head swim.

"So yeah. There won't be any more creepy druid finger waggling!"

For a brief instance, Kagha almost returns to her old self.

"It's called the Rite of Thorns," she says through her teeth.

"Whatever," Dee scoffs.

"You Tiefs are welcome to stay as long as you need. The human bloke, Rath, is in charge now. Come to him if you need anything. Now I wanna have a quick word with your lot's daddy over here."

Logically, Zevlor understands what she meant, even if he does not agree. He may come off as the refugees' father figure — to someone unsuspecting how little he deserves the title, how poor of a job he has been doing to ensure that they are safe and cared for. It makes sense that she'd call him... that. But hells, the way she pronounced the word; he cannot be certain that the steep incline of the cave corridors is the only reason why the way back to his stone door has stolen his breath again.

Once they are hidden from prying eyes — bringing him back to the day when she helped him treat his wound, and said nothing to him when her potent homebrew antitoxin made him act... unwisely — Dee takes off her shoulder bag, sets it, clanking and cluttering, onto Zevlor's desk, and dives in.

It does not look quite like a bag of holding, but it certainly is uncannily spacious. After a lot more cacophonous noises, Dee produces a stout, slightly dusty, dark-green bottle.

"I know how you bend over backwards for your..."

For all her nonchalant air, the crack in her voice would be impossible to hide. Yet again, Zevlor almost glimpses the actress behind the role, and the sight nigh punctures his heart.

"...Your family. So I figured, you deserve a little party. Now that you don't have to worry about these druid assholes any more. This looks like good, fancy wine..."

She pats the bottle, almost shyly.

"Nicked it from some dead bloke's basement. Don't worry; he was dead before we got there. Lae'Zel was bloody disappointed as always."

There is fondness in her words; far too much fondness for someone who so loves describing her adventuring companions as "weirdos I got stuck with".

She chuckles to herself, as does Zevlor... But the soft sound is soon smothered by the boulder-heavy memory of what the scout reported to him.

"You have done so much for us, but..." he sighs. "I am afraid there is still the threat of the goblins to contend with."

Dee, who has perched on the desk's edge, nearly falls off with the force of her own arm swing.

"Oh, fuck me!" she cries out, more dramatically than in anger. "After I made all this effort to pick out the best booze!... Wait, why are you staring?"

Zevlor swallows, which does nothing to soothe his parched throat. He is staring, isn't he?

The expletive has shot through him like some of Dee's own storm magic. Cracking him wide open, and forcing out what has been lurking so deep, deep down.

He has not felt this way for so long. The suffocating loneliness of Avernus' starless nights, the ice-cold revelation that he was now a monster in the eyes of his one-time human friends, the constant anguish of shielding his people from goblin blades — all of this has almost made him forget how thrilling, how exhilarating it is, to feel another's lips upon your own.

And now, she is here, dancing in this titillating spot between stranger and almost-friend. Face, chiseled beautifully from dark granite. Eyes the color of an overcast sky, heavy with a thunderstorm. Voice, low and play-acted to be rude, but hiding a wordless sadness that calls to Zevlor like kin to kin.

She frowns. She has read him; have the flames in his eyes flared up, much too bright, much too greedy?

"It... It was just a cuss word," she finally croaks. Helm's grace, is she afraid? Of him — of the hell-touched creature of sharp ridges and claws and horns and teeth?

From the precious few remarks that she’d let slip about her past life, Zevlor could sense she was a fellow outcast. He... He was hoping that she would understand...

"I know I am not your type!"

"Why?"

The word hurries to his tongue before he can stop and think.

"I, uh, admit that I am woefully out of practice... But in Elturel, in another life, I cherished the attentions of both women and men, and those who were neither."

"As you should!" she blurts out, as impulsively as himself.

"I mean... You are such a good person. Brave. Kind. Selfless. You're from a world I wasn't made for."

She bites her tongue and turns away, a wet strip of slate gray cutting across the last of her white warpaint.

"I have failed far too many times for that world to welcome me anymore," Zevlor murmurs.

"All I can do is fight, one day at a time. And after all you did to join that fight, I do not believe you are as lost a cause as you say."

She jolts up to look at him. Holding her gaze feels like drowning in the sea... And for a little while, away from the world, one step closer to saving his people... He can afford to let go and give himself to the waves.

"Bloody hoon," she sniffles, edging closer and grabbing him by the front of his armor. "I wanted you since you first stepped onto that gate."

With that, comes the swift, demanding pull... And next thing he knows, he as bending down, palms pressed into the desk on either side of Dee; and she is kissing him.

Her lips are as soft as his wandering mind imagined them; until they aren't. Until she bites, devours, teeth knocking against teeth, flecks of her streaking warpaint getting onto his face, like white seafoam splashed onto burning brimstone.

All of his nights alone pile up on top of each other, on top of him, making his knees buckle. She has wrapped her much smaller body, all wiry sinews and old scars, tightly around his. And in her grasp, he feels weak and weightless, melting all the more with every touch: wax for her hands and tongue to sculpt.

His surroundings melt as well, and it is only when his back hits the desk's stone that he recollects them switching places. He is lying down now, like he did when she berated him for not seeking a healer for his wound. She on top of him again. Her mouth has left his, with a parting groan, and she has straightened up to saddle him, hips against hips — which, ironically, is the only clothed part of them by now, as his armor lies in a discarded heap in the corner somewhere, and his fingers are tangled up in the shirt she has carelessly pulled off herself.

The bottle is still here too; she picks it up, uncorks it with her teeth, and takes a long swig straight from the nozzle, stray droplets splashing over her breasts. Under normal circumstances, this kind of debauched abandon would have made Zevlor shake his head in exasperation — perhaps before breaking up a noisy party of younger Tieflings... But right now, all that it incites is a moan.

"You are such a mess," she laughs, lifting the bottle to his lips. He accepts it as eagerly as her potion... And the effect it has on him, once the contents have seared his throat — stronger than he anticipated — is just about the same.

"Take me," he pants, while the heat travels down to his loins, and builds up into a demanding pulse.

"Oh, I have several ideas for that," she whispers, brushing her mouth against his... Not quite a kiss, yet at the same time, kiss-like enough to coax a new moan out of him.

At the snap of her fingers, the trusty shoulder bag slides closer to her, faintly glowing with magic. She distracts herself from Zevlor for a moment — with a bit of comical timing, perhaps, but he is too far gone to care now — and reemerges with a potion vial and a bizarre, smooth, elongated grey... something in her hands.

Instinctively, Zevlor sucks in his stomach, trying to contain the fire that keeps scorching him below the waist.

"Found it on the creepy ship my friends and I were trapped on," she says casually, plopping the vial's gel-like, glittery-blue contents into her palm — not even noticing that she just referred to the "weirdos" as "friends".

"I think I was supposed to use it to set Shade free from the glass thingamajig where they were holding her... But I just smashed that to pieces with lightning. Kept this around as a souvenir; finally it can come in handy!"

"Please," is all Zevlor musters, tongue-tied by the restless greed that consumes him.

Thankfully, it is not long before that greed is sated.

"Pants off, old man. Spread your legs."

He complies, whimpering in anticipation. The sound, to his surprise, reaches its loudest when she snaps her fingers again.

With this motion, the outline of her hand doubles, then triples. Zevlor is ready to accept that his vision is just growing blurry with lust and wine... But she has, in fact, cast a spell. See-through copies of her hand slip off like floating silvery gloves: one takes the dripping, well-oiled object from Dee and carries it down, teasing under Zevlor's tail; while the other glides over his heaving hips and caresses him from the front, translucent fingers encircling his cock.

Dee herself bites into his lips again. Her small frame has slid up his torso, and while the ghostly hands are busy thrusting into Zevlor and stroking him to perfect hardness, her hands of flesh and blood have unlaced the front of her breeches. She has planted her core right over one of the ridges that sculpt Zevlor's chest, and is rutting against it, her little yelps mingling with his own.

"Wait... This might not be enough..." he slurs between kisses, intending to offer his tail to help her to completion... But he is interrupted by the white-hot rush of his two ecstasies, joined as one.

A moment of utter blindness, utter weightlessness; he disintegrates into dazzling giddy light, and then returns to the material plane, body spent, head spinning, heart swollen in elated disbelief. Like pleasure of this kind cannot be meant for him.

The ghostly hands turn to wisps of silver dust, and Dee's face shimmers into focus — heavily-lidded eyes, darkly-bitten lips.

"Well, thanks, old man," she drawls, and now that the glittery smoke in Zevlor's mind has somewhat settled, he realizes, with a flush choking him like a collar, that he must have spilled all over her back.

"Now, what was that you were saying?"

He forces down a cough. Ah. His tail.

He wiggles around on the desk — not without awkwardness, especially since his back has chosen this particular time to remind him that his cock is not the only part of him capable of being stiff — and gently guides Dee where he wants her. Within the reach of his tail's tip, which bobs over her half-exposed thighs, and then parts her folds, slipping into the welcoming wetness, exploring, stroking, now turning her to warm, pliant wax.

Her climax sounds about as he expected — eagerly so — a splutter of curses, a brief crackle of lightning at her grasping fingertips. But when she quiets down, the storm in her eyes ripples with unshed tears.

"Oh hells..." she mutters, wiping sweat off her brown. "Oh fuck... Where do we even go from here?"

Zevlor frowns. A haunting question... And one he does not know how to answer. He never knows, does he? That is what makes him so useless in this whole goblin mess.

"I... I am not certain," he says, feeling a dark spiderweb of cracks spread across his bubble of bliss.

"The Descent has carved such a chasm across our lives — literally — that it feels like aeons since I had a lover."

Dee inhales sharply.

"Is that...? Is that what you want me to be for you?"

The stormy waters threaten to spill over — but she dabs angrily at her eyes, and her usual scowl is back.

"Fuck, I did not sign up for this!" she barks — and those fine cracks grow wider.

"I — you —"

She threshes her arms helplessly.

"Let me deal with the goblins, okay? That part seems easier!"

"Of course," Zevlor assures her, brows arched. His chest has been holding all manner of little heartaches, like Dee's shoulder bag. And just now, a new one has been added to the collection.

"Thank you again."

[determinate-negation]

Money On My Brain - Kool G Rap

from wikipedia: Kool G Rap is regarded as a hugely influential golden age rapper. Music journalist Peter Shapiro suggests that he "created the blueprint for Nas, Biggie and everyone who followed in their path". Kool G is described by Kool Moe Dee as "the progenitor and prototype for Biggie, Jay-Z, Treach, N.O.R.E., Fat Joe, Big Pun, and about twenty-five more hard-core emcees", and Kool Moe Dee also claims Kool G Rap is "the most lyrical" out of all of the artists mentioned. MTV describes Kool G Rap as a "hip-hop godfather", adding that he paved the way for a lot of MCs who we would not have heard of otherwise. Rolling Stone says, "G Rap excelled at the street narrative, a style that would come to define later Queens MCs like Nas (who was hugely influenced by G Rap on his early records) and Mobb Deep".

[emyn-arnens]

It’s spooky season! In honor of the season, I’ve put together a rec list of some of my favorite LOTR and Silm horror fics. So curl up with a warm drink, tuck in…and maybe leave the lights on. 😉 Please leave a kudos and comment if you enjoy!

A Hidden Hunt in Hollow Dells by Zdenka (T, Petty-dwarves, 100 words):

The Dwarves of the great cities tell tales of the Elvenfolk to frighten their children, but the Petty-Dwarves know the tales are true.

A Treatise on the Origin of Dragons by Piyo13 (T, Sauron, 2.9k):

"A Treatise on the Origin of Dragons, recorded by Mairon" In which Mairon conducts a scientific experiment, and Orcs aren't the only form of corrupted Elf to have ever graced Middle Earth.

autumn fruits with me prevail by Anonymous (T, Thranduil, ~200 words):

On his head he wore a crown of berries and red leaves, for the autumn was come again.

cold be sleep under stone by Feanoriel (NR, Ar-Pharazôn, ~600 words, character death):

Under the barrow, a dead man dreams.

consuming by simaetha (T, Khamûl & Sauron, 1k):

...For one of the hungry Houseless, if it is admitted to the friendship of the Living, may seek to eject the fëa from its body; and in the contest for mastery the body may be gravely injured, even if it be not wrested from its rightful inhabitant. Or the Houseless may plead for shelter, and if it is admitted, then it will seek to enslave its host and use both his will and his body for its own purposes. It is said that Sauron did these things, and taught his followers how to achieve them. - Laws and Customs Among the Eldar

Heed No Nightly Noises by Marta (M, 4.7k, Pippin, Merry, Barrow-wights, Lalia Took, and OMC, minor character death):

"The hobbits sprang to their feet in alarm, and ran to the western rim. They found that they were upon an island in the fog. Even as they looked out in dismay towards the setting sun, it sank before their eyes into a white sea, and a cold grey shadow sprang up in the East behind. The fog rolled up to the walls and rose above them, and as it mounted it bent over their heads until it became a roof: they were shut in a hall of mist whose central pillar was the standing stone. "They felt as if a trap was closing about them; but they did not quite lose heart. " (from The Lord of the Rings, "Fog on the Barrow-Downs")

lengthen the night and shorten the day by kimaracretak (G, Lalaith, ~100 words, character death):

Death cannot take Lalaith from the river.

nights so frozen by simaetha (G, Varda, Lúthien, and OCs, ~900 words):

Varda: Star-Queen, Kindler, Sublime, Ever-white. Every angel is terrifying. - Rilke

Nine Fingers by Prackspoor (G, Frodo & Sam & Merry & Pippin, 6.3k):

On their way home from Minas Tirith, the Hobbits have a strange encounter on the outskirts of the Barrow-downs...

only the sleep eternal / in an eternal night by simaetha (T, Shelob, ~700 words):

“The world is a terrible place,” you tell the small creature, kindly. 

The Snaring of Gorlim by Zdenka (T, Gorlim/Eilinel, 1.4k, character death):

Gorlim searches for Eilinel.

This Will I Do by amyfortuna (NR, Míriel Þerindë & Ungoliant, ~800 words, character death):

Míriel makes a deal with Ungoliant, and she'll see it through, no matter the sacrifice.

Too Bright for Mortal Lands by amyfortuna (T, Beren/Lúthien, Díor/Nimloth, 1k, character death):

"...The wise have said that the Silmaril hastened their end; for the flame of the beauty of Lúthien as she wore it was too bright for mortal lands."

Watcher Of/In the Woods by ncfan (T, Andreth, 2.4k):

"Outside, the world was changing." Andreth, in the time following the Dagor Bragollach.

With Both Hands by crackinthecup (T, Morgoth & Ungoliant, 1.5k):

“This is my domain, Dark One,” Ungoliant said, and her body was revealed in the light of Melkor’s gaze, dark and heavy and sagging, splayed across her webs like a hole through the fabric of the world. She dwarfed Melkor by her sheer size. “Our ties were broken long ago. You promised that I would feed to my heart’s content and beyond, yet I was hungry then, and I am hungry still. Begone! I owe you nothing.” It is said in the Silmarillion that Melkor went to Avathar to seek out Ungoliant and plot his revenge with her. This is the story of their meeting.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Asawin Suebsaeng and Andrew Perez at Rolling Stone:

Martha-Ann Alito, wife of Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito, is incensed about seeing rainbow Pride flags during Pride Month, according to a new recording obtained by Rolling Stone. If it were up to her, she would be flying a Sacred Heart of Jesus flag in response. Or she might design her own flag, one sporting the Italian word for “shame.”  In recent weeks, Martha-Ann Alito has been at the center of a national firestorm over two flags seen flying at their residences that have been associated with right-wing movements that question the legitimacy of the results of the 2020 election. Justice Alito has blamed his wife for flying those flags — and rebuffed calls from Democratic lawmakers to recuse himself from upcoming decisions in cases related to the Jan. 6 insurrection at the U.S. Capitol. Like her husband, Mrs. Alito is unbowed by the criticism and controversy — as she makes clear in comments recorded by liberal documentary filmmaker Lauren Windsor. Windsor, posing as a Christian conservative, spoke at length with Mrs. Alito at a dinner reception hosted by the Supreme Court Historical Society last week. Windsor attended the dinner as a dues-paying member and bought a ticket; a colleague joined her.

Rolling Stone first reported on Windsor’s conversation with Justice Alito on Monday. While several outlets have recently relayed stories of Martha-Ann’s tense interactions with neighbors — apparently in response to a sign opposing Donald Trump — Windsor’s recording presents the justice’s wife in her own words. The audio, provided exclusively to Rolling Stone, paints a picture of a right-wing ideologue that matches with the private reputation that Mrs. Alito has developed in the Republican Party and judicial social circuits in the D.C. area and beyond.

In the most jarring moment in the recording, Windsor attempts to pose the same prompt that she presented to Justice Alito, about how, in order to take America back to “a godly place,” conservatives need to win. She doesn’t complete the thought before Mrs. Alito starts complaining about having to see rainbow Pride flags in June, Pride month.

“You know what I want?” Mrs. Alito says. “I want a Sacred Heart of Jesus flag, because I have to look across the lagoon at the Pride flag for the next month.” Referencing her husband, Mrs. Alito says, “He’s like, ‘Oh, please don’t put up a flag.’ I said, ‘I won’t do it because I am deferring to you. But when you are free of this nonsense, I’m putting it up and I’m gonna send them a message every day, maybe every week, I’ll be changing the flags.’ They’ll be all kinds. I made a flag in my head. This is how I satisfy myself. I made a flag. It’s white and has yellow and orange flames around it. And in the middle is the word ‘vergogna.’ ‘Vergogna’ in Italian means shame — vergogna. V-E-R-G-O-G-N-A. Vergogna.”  “Shame, shame, shame on you,” she adds. (Last year, the Supreme Court’s conservative supermajority ruled that businesses can discriminate against LGBTQ customers.) In other points of the conversation with Windsor, Martha-Ann Alito agrees there is no negotiating with the radical Left. She claims “the Femnazis believe that [Justice Alito] should control me,” adding: “So they’ll go to hell. He never controls me.”

[...] Mrs. Alito has for years harbored a disdain and bitterness towards others in the D.C. elite, whom she has bashed for supposedly excluding or shunning her and her husband, and for being too mean about them and their unabashedly conservative beliefs. Sources add that Mrs. Alito also has a longstanding reputation in influential GOP circles for ranting about politics, the culture wars, the Left, and the burning grudges she’s nursed since at least the George W. Bush era.  

Rolling Stone’s report on Martha-Ann Alito’s unhinged temper tantrum about the LGBTQ+ Pride Flag and her whining about “woke liberals” is something to behold. She is just as much as a fanatical right-wing extremist as her husband Samuel is.