#she was his landing lights

[nobleriver]

I had this friend. Martha, she was called. Martha Jones. She was brilliant. And I destroyed half her life.

[camels-pen]

consider sanuso bodyswap where Sanji is of course "admiring" Usopp's body and Usopp is trying desperately to keep himself from getting worked up so that he doesn't light himself on fire.

Luffy and Chopper are not helping. They are in fact doing the opposite of helping. They've ramped up their pranks and are doing anything possible to get Usopp angry so that he combusts, freaks out, and then dives into the ocean to put himself out. They think it's hilarious.

Nami and Brook are Also not helping, since they're conspiring with Sanji to put on a fashion show with Usopp's body. Sanji called it "not wasting a precious opportunity to get him in something other than overalls". Usopp called it mutiny and he was gonna- dive into the ocean, holy fuck Sanji why is it so easy to catch fire?!

Best part about this is that Sanji assured him, several times, that his body doesn't get hurt by catching fire. Usopp still jumps into the ocean every time.

Robin pipes up at one point, asking if Sanji was immune to just his own flames or all flames. Sanji just kind of shrugs and said it depends. Franky, having just been leisurely watching all of this gets an idea. Would his Franky Fireball hurt Sanji's body or just give him more fire to work with?

He tries to coax Usopp into agreeing to test it out and, somehow, he manages it. Albeit, Usopp is all knocking knees and chattering teeth, a very odd sight from 'Sanji'. As part of the deal though, he can only shoot a fireball the size of his hand.

Usopp meant his small hand. The one Franky used for tinkering and fine detail work. He did not, however, clarify this.

So, when a fireball the size of Franky's big hand comes out, well. Usopp runs for his goddamn life.

It takes him a few moments- and the voices of his friends sounding distant and below him- to realize he hadn't, in fact, run to the men's quarters, but rather into the fucking sky.

And oooooh, boy he is gonna kill Sanji one of these days. Why was his body's first fucking instinct when running to go up, what the actual HELL-

Usopp lit himself on fire again.

He curses out Sanji as his Sky Walk fails in the same moment and he plummets towards the deck.

[theinfinitedivides]

every time Won gets to hold Sa Rang's hand six more years are added to his lifespan and he gains the motivation to continue to grow a backbone and f*ck up the establishment at the next board meeting

[wonder-worker]

are there any books you'd recommend for Isabelle of Angouleme?

Hi! I’m really not an expert on Isabella of Angouleme so I'm probably not the best person to ask for recommendations for her. Here are some I've heard of, though I haven't read all of them:

"Isabella of Angouleme: John's Jezebel" by Nicholas Vincent (King John: New Interpretations). I haven't read it myself but I've heard good things!

“Maternal Abandonment and Surrogate Caregivers: Isabella of Angoulême and Her Children by King John” by Louise J. Wilkinson (Virtuous or Villainess? The Image of the Royal Mother from the Early Medieval to the Early Modern Era). It focuses more-so on Isabella's tenure as queen, the period shortly after John's death, and her decision to leave England. Despite what the title may imply, it's sympathetic to Isabella and analyzes her situation in detail.

“Co-Operation, Co-Rulership and Competition: Queenship in the Angevin Domains 1135-1230” by Gabrielle Storey, her PHD thesis which collectively focuses on Isabella of Angouleme along with Empress Matilda, Eleanor of Aquitaine, and Berengaria of Navarre. You can read/download it here, it's an excellent piece for all four women.

Sally Spong has written/is writing:

Isabella of Angouleme: The Vanished Queen (Norman to Early Plantagenet Consorts). You can see her conclusion here. It's nuanced and sympathetic, though not without its issues and pre-conceived notions.

Isabella of Gloucester and Isabella of Angouleme: Female Lordship, Queenship, Power, and Authority 1189-1220 (PHD thesis University of East Anglia).

“Isabelle d’Angouleme, By the Grace of God, Queen” by William Chester Jordan. You can read it online here, though I will say that it's ... very very questionable, accepting the sensational claims of lot of unreliable sources (including the idea of John abducting Isabella in a fit of uncontrollable infatuation) entirely at face-value.

“The Marriage and Coronation of Isabelle of Angouleme” by H.G. Richardson, available here on JSTOR.

Isabella has also been the subject of two complete French biographies till date:

"Isabelle d’Angoulême, reine d’Angleterre" (Aquitaine: 1998) by Sophie Fougere.

"Isabelle d’Angoulême, comtesse-reine et son temps (1186-1246)" [Actes du colloque tenu à Lusignan, 8 au 10 novembre 1996] by Gabriel Biancotto, Robert Favreau and Piotr Skubiszewski.

There are also a few blog posts about her (here and here) which may help if you want a brief overview of her life, though they can get a little sensationalistic sometimes.

Hope this helps! If anyone knows any others, please feel free to add on!

[softquietsteadylove]

Proposal AU

Thena takes care of a very exhausted Gil!

Something sweet and soft 🤭

Gil groaned, trying to turn his face away from the light.

"It's almost over."

He blinked, finding his nose buried in a head of blonde brighter than sunshine. He could have just nestled in further, which was damn tempting of course. But he groaned, adjusting in the...hammock?

"You know, you're actually quite lucky," Thena continued in a whisper. Her fingers ran through his hair. "Had I not joined you here, I'm sure your mother or sisters would have no trouble awakening you for what is actually our own party. But with me in here as well, everyone thinks we're too wrapped up in pre-marital snuggling to bother you."

"You're doing an awful lot of talking for someone determined to let me sleep."

She gave his cheek a poke. "I know very well you're awake. You stopped snoring."

"I do not snore," he grumbled, moving his head so she could pull away and look at him. He pouted.

"You snore a little," she broke it to him gently at least, poking his lip back into place. "But I'll forgive you because you're so exhausted."

He yawned completely reflexively, but he at least pressed it into the shoulder of her cardigan. "How long?"

"A couple of hours."

That scared him. He jolted, not that it did much in their hanging basket arrangement. "No."

Thena nodded, though, confirming the statement that had sent fear shooting through him. "Just over two hours, assuming I found you relatively close to when you fell asleep."

"Thena, no," he groaned again, attempting to drown himself in the fabric suspending them off the ground. "No, no, no--my mom worked her ass off for this party, I can't have been asleep for that long."

"Sh," Thena hushed him from those soft lips again. She was being awfully tender with him. "I told her that I was the one who lulled you into sleep. If anyone is to blame, it's me."

He whimpered, though. "I'm a bad son."

"On the contrary," she had the nerve to laugh at him when he was upset. "You are the son who cooked every morsel of food at this party. If you happened to spend most of it in a hammock with your own fiance, I can't imagine she would have anything to say about it."

Well, she had a point. He did cook all of the food. And Ajak was always telling him to try and relax - with Thena - more. He sighed again, unfolding his arms from around himself and resting one over the curve of Thena's waist. "Guess I can't argue with that."

"You haven't missed much," she informed him. "Ajak announced how pleased she was for us."

Gil snorted, pulling Thena closer to him as a breeze rocked the hammock faintly. "That wasn't what she said when I first told her. Nearly took my ear off demanding to know why I hadn't said anything until now."

"You have a lovely family, Gil."

He opened his eyes again to look at the woman in the hammock with him. Some of their relatives had arrived early for this party. They were distant, some more family friends than anything. But it was certainly an escalation to their little lie. They were having to do couple-y things more often. A 'love you' here, a 'missed you' there. A brush of his hand over her shoulder--that kind of thing. He smiled, "are you actually in here avoiding them?"

Thena didn't deny it, which was basically a confirmation. She slid her hands up his chest and nestled her head closer again, approaching a position to tuck it under his chin. "Your mother knows a staggering number of people."

Gil chuckled, tucking her against him so she wouldn't have to close the gap herself. She happily accepted his invitation, practically settling into him like a cat in a sunbeam. "Sorry I left you to handle them all yourself."

"I gave up rather quickly," she lamented. "Said I had to find you to ask you something for the wedding. It worked to help me avoid anyone for nigh on half an hour."

"We're both bad hosts."

"Indeed," Thena agreed, not seeming all that upset about it. She sighed, her hot breath hitting his throat. "I'll apologise to your mother later."

"I'm pretty sure you can do no wrong in her eyes," he assured her. He had just had a pretty solid nap, but it was way too comfortable to continue lying there with Thena to even think about trying to roll out of the swaying hammock. "You'll be her first daughter-in-law. To her only son, no less. An eldest son I'm pretty sure she was getting worried wouldn't be settling down at all."

"Hm."

"Hey," he called to her before she could slide down that slippery slope of regret. He rubbed small circles in her back, "don't worry about it."

She didn't say anything else, but one of her hands slipped around his side and to his back, clutching a fistful of his shirt. She pressed her face into his shoulder.

He sighed, ready to settle into sleep again, feeling the familiar position of Thena cuddled up to him. He was nearly there when he heard a grating voice getting closer and closer.

"Yoohoo!--lovebirds?"

Gil kept his eyes closed, not in the mood for his showboat cousin who probably wanted to make some dramatic speech about them or drag him up in front of everyone.

"Gil, mom's lookin' for you!"

Thena stirred but he cradled the back of her head with his hand and held the small of her back. "It's a trap."

She puffed out some air at his joke before whispering, "diabolical."

"Very," he whispered back, eyes still closed.

"Here they-oh!"

Gil resisted the urge to tell his brother - in every way that mattered - to fuck off and not wake his fiance. He held Thena firmly, determined to appear asleep.

"It's so sweet!"

"Let them rest, you two--Makkari, put the stick down!"

His youngest sister was no doubt about to poke him in the face with it. His sweet and elegant mother had raised a bunch of animals.

He only cracked his eyes open when he heard them padding away, complaining why he got to skip out on the party duties, like entertaining guests and cleaning up as things started coming to a close.

"We can't sleep in here all night, you know."

"Why not?" he grinned, immediately pulled back into the little world that was the high sides of the hammock bending around his weight. "It's comfy."

"I would hardly call this lumbar support," she argued, although he was pretty sure she wasn't that far from dozing off herself. "And what if it rains?"

"We're in the trees, it's fine," he laughed. They weren't exactly in the depths of the wooded area surrounding the house, but they were away from everything else enough that they weren't the easiest to find in here.

"Gil," she scolded, but made no attempt to get up, or even separate herself from him.

"Mom wouldn't let that happen," he reassured, although it made her go quiet again. "Fine, just a few more minutes."

"Five, not a second more."

"Deal," he smiled. She sounded like she did when they were at work. It felt so far away, they'd been here so long. Not that they didn't deserve the break. And Thena had even more paid time off than he did. He was pretty sure she never took a day off.

Unless she was sick. In which case he would rush home from work and cook up his most healing chicken soup and noodles for her.

Thena didn't stir as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. If anything, she nestled closer to him, "five minutes."

"Five minutes," he repeated, moving his lips down her cheek, closer to her lips. He didn't close the distance quite yet, but Thena didn't pull herself away either. And he didn't need the next five minutes to make his decision.

It was chaste, just the barest brushing of lips against lips. It was like a peck. Thena didn't make any sudden moves or any sounds at all. Only she could lie perfectly still and straight postured in a hammock. "Was that your attempt at bartering?"

He grinned, their heads still too close to really see each other, breath mixing and lips twitching to meet again. "Depends if it worked."

"No."

"Fine," he conceded, moving his hands to her cheeks. He gave her another little peck before she tucked herself into the crook of his neck again. This was just another couple-y thing to add to the list, apparently. Not that he minded.

[loverboyromanroy]

no he definitely looks at her lips. this is clear foreshadowing that they will kiss. haha jk...unless

why would he do that. why would he do this. why is her look in response to be the embodiment of "you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid"

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong (don't mind me re-dropping this with the fixed ones, shh)

[fatesown]

MARTEL TAG DROP

[narutomaki]

I always get self conscious when people talk about the amount of thought the goes/went into their art because there is.

there is no upper processing happening when I'm designing a character or background. my hand starts moving and my brain shuts off. I recognize there was probably a point in my life where this WASN'T the case but. like. it's why my art is like. mostly flat and lifeless. my art is never intended to tell a story because when I intend to I get angry/frustrated to the point of wanting to break shit because it's not going right. and I've tried to tell stories with my art both comics and stand alone pieces and it all feels fake or flat or.

idk.

I've TRIED to start and finish a piece where I've made conscious choices beyond "does this look good/right" and "am I being offensive in ways I'm aware of with anything here" but it just. makes me want to scream.

I learned people told stories with their art and I tried to and I stopped drawing for 5 years despite having. before that point been doing art studies for 8 to 10 hours a day for. 2 years.

I mostly just think it's because I have nothing to. say.

I can't add anymore tags to this post??? homophobia.

any way this post is useless idk I'm just sad because people do this thing so easily and enjoy it when it makes me break down crying. I don't get it. every person I've known regardless of neurodivergency has been able to do this consciously to some degree and enjoy it and meanwhile my stupid ass is asked how/why i chose something and I just. shrug. idk

looked nice?

[thursdayg1rl]

I literally need to complain abt everything on here or I’ll die

[zmeydeva-arch]

mishka: 😱 or 🌧️

▐ ⊹ ⁺ bad situations starters ) ACCEPTING!

       ❛    mikhail.    ❜    oh,    that voice of thunder it is a roar above the unrelenting storm.   endless were the rains for weeks without end the ceases beating of water from above.   the winds rose to keep time to the beat of each droplet.    even now in the heart of the wood under the canopy of lush leaves it persists.   ❛    they call you mishka now do they not...    that is rather intimate.    ❜    the ground is sodden under each bare footfall yet she seems to walk upon the surface of each muddied puddle.    in her grief somehow weightless she drifts and her hair hangs about her like a settled array of dark serpents.    

         ❛   well,    you have come here to stop it,    have you not?   ❜    a tone of disenchantment;   a queen without purpose creating her own wars in the wild.    A PERIL WHEN UNCHECKED;   LIGHTING WITHOUT A POINT OF CONDUCTION.    she finds passing delight in these games of weather though they are fancies at the height of their violence.    ❛    i wonder what you will do   ━    you were never one for groveling or begging but i will not call the clouds away for nothing.    ❜    a bolt makes ground then,    catching the side of tree nearest to @nowincolor and setting alight no matter the torrent all around them.    it burns in this realm of damp,    a blaze at the bottom of the sea.    

        ❛    begin with zoechka or zosya,    perhaps see where it gets you.    ❜    her face brightens with amusement,    with cruelty.    wings rising behind her as a crowd of shadow,    poised for flight though she remains grounded in her approach.   

[hdawg1995]

i just had a dumb thought about my WoL, M'ixie. No one should ever go to her for comfort after a break up.

you'll just find yourself randomly, unexpectedly, fished up and told "Wow! What a catch! Better send this one back, a lucky someone is gonna really appreciate this one!" and then you're dropped from whatever height she "caught" you at.

M'ixie has one brain cell and its fish shapped.

[wibble-wobbegong]

alice wtf is this

[of-forossa]

Children of the northern mountains, notably Kaiden, often etch their victories and their stories into their skin in the form of tattoos. Needles of bones are used to perforate the body in the form of the desired designs, then traced by careful hands with wood ash, powdered charcoal or similar substances to mingle in the blood and give the tattoos their color as they seep into the skin.

Typical designs include bears and wolves, battles fought or sagas passed down through their oral traditions, dragons and ancestor spirits, and a now blasphemous depiction of the Erdtree from an age before the Greater Will tainted it with gold. Only one design is frowned upon and carefully etched, one favored only by the most fervent priests and berserkers: that of a single blazing eye, a depiction of their Fell God and distant ancestor that is said to draw His attention and ruinous influence upon the wearer.

Tattoos are often an indication of a warrior's prestige or history, and many of the most grizzled and aged warriors of the north have barely an inch of skin that isn't dedicated to their achievements. Some are living histories, and where some stories might have been forgotten in the minds of the greybeards they are remembered in the flesh of sons and daughters who likewise inked their parents' legends to themselves.

When the call for tarnished echoed across the world, however, a new and terrible practice was enacted upon those in the north who were called by grace to the Lands Between. Their tattoos were stripped from them, their flesh scoured and their stories erased from memory before being exiled. Such a fate befell Brom and his warband, and the only one among their number that is currently marked in the old way was born in the time since their banishment.

[trashycosmos]

not to be super morbid but like if you have family you're close to and they're older/sick get them to make a will of some sort. a physical and signed will. even if it's the most basic of things. if it's a subject you can broach ahead of time that's even better. i had to watch my mother sob uncontrollably yesterday bc we couldn't get my grandma's ashes. the man she was married to told us he just had to run to get them and then sent his brother as the fucking messenger to tell us he wouldn't give them to us. like we didn't even fucking want them all or anything aside from that. we got urns to split amongst my mom, him, my sister, and myself. 8 hours and 3 days. 8 hours of driving and three days of hoping we could finally be done with everything. for nothing. to leave empty handed. to be treated like my grandmother, her mother, was somehow less important to us. like her unexpected death didn't turn our world's upside down either. yeah we weren't there when she passed but we live 400 miles away and her heart literally fucking burst out of nowhere the morning before her birthday. shredded apart while she was on the operating table that same day. how the fuck are you supposed to predict that? like we wouldn't have wanted a chance to say a last goodbye and i love you? to be there for her final moments. i have never seethed with rage and sorrow like this before. the restraint i had to exercise yesterday was unbearable. i hope none of you ever experience this. like your relative is being held hostage from you. like your grief is treated less than or the relationship you had was.