#winter festive 2018

[lovelyz-diary]

180317 Jung Yein at 2018 Pyeongchang Winter Olympics Kpop Festival © 슈퍼스타김케이 do not edit, crop, or remove the watermark

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The "religious liberty" angle for overturning the overturning of Dobbs

Frank Wilhoit’s definition of “conservativism” remains a classic:

There must be in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect.

https://crookedtimber.org/2018/03/21/liberals-against-progressives/#comment-729288

Conservativism is, in other words, the opposite of the rule of law, which is the idea that the law applies equally to all. Many of America’s most predictably weird moments live in the tension between the rule of law and the conservative’s demand to be protected — but not bound — by the law.

Think of the Republican women of Florida whose full-throated support for the perfomatively cruel and bigoted policies of Ron Desantis turned to howls of outrage when the governor signed a law “overhauling alimony” (for “overhauling,” read “eliminating”):

https://www.orlandoweekly.com/news/this-is-a-death-sentence-for-me-florida-republican-women-say-they-will-switch-parties-after-desantis-approves-alimony-law-34563230

This is real leopards-eating-people’s-faces-party stuff, and it’s the only source of mirth in an otherwise grim situation.

But out of the culture-war bullshit backfires, none is so sweet and delicious as the religious liberty self-own. You see, under the rule of law, if some special consideration is owed to a group due to religious liberty, that means all religions. Of course, Wilhoit-drunk conservatives imagine that “religious liberty” is a synonym for Christian liberty, and that other groups will never demand the same carve outs.

Remember when Louisiana decided spend tax dollars to fund “religious” schools under a charter school program, only to discover — to their Islamaphobic horror — that this would allow Muslim schools to get public subsidies, too?

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/louisiana_n_1593995

(They could have tried the Quebec gambit, where hijabs and yarmulkes are classed as “religious” and therefore banned for public servants and publicly owned premises, while crosses are treated as “cultural” and therefore exempted — that’s some primo Wilhoitism right there)

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/montreal/quebec-francois-legault-crucifix-religious-symbols-1.4858757

The Satanic Temple has perfected the art of hoisting religious liberty on its own petard. Are you a state lawmaker hoping to put a giant Ten Commandments on the statehouse lawn? Go ahead, have some religious liberty — just don’t be surprised when the Satanic Temple shows up to put a giant statue of Baphomet next to it:

https://www.npr.org/2018/08/17/639726472/satanic-temple-protests-ten-commandments-monument-with-goat-headed-statue

Wanna put a Christmas tree in the state capitol building? Sure, but there’s gonna be a Satanic winter festival display right next to it:

https://katv.com/news/offbeat/satanic-temple-display-installed-at-illinois-capitol-next-to-nativity-scene-menorah-decorations-snake-serpent-satanic-temple-springfield-christmas-tree

And now we come to Dobbs, and the cowardly, illegitimate Supreme Court’s cowardly, illegitimate overturning of Roe v Wade, a move that was immediately followed by “red” states implementing total, or near-total bans on abortion:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/15/paid-medical-disinformation/#crisis-pregnancy-centers

These same states are hotbeds of “religious liberty” nonsense. In about a dozen of these states, Jews, Christians, and Satanists are filing “religious liberty” challenges to the abortion ban. In Indiana, the Hoosier Jews For Choice have joined with other religious groups in a class action, to argue that the “religious freedom” law that Mike Pence signed as governor protects their right to an abortion:

https://www.politico.com/news/2023/06/21/legal-strategy-that-could-topple-abortion-bans-00102468

Their case builds on precedents from the covid lockdowns, like decisions that said that if secular exceptions to lockdown rules or vaccine mandates existed, then states had to also allow religious exemptions. That opens the door for religious exemptions to abortion bans — if there’s a secular rule that permits abortion in the instance of incest or rape, then faith-based exceptions must be permitted, too.

Some of the challenges to abortion rules seek to carve out religious exemptions, but others seek to overturn the abortion rules altogether, because the lawmakers who passed them explicitly justified them in the name of fusing Christian “values” with secular law, a First Amendment no-no.

As Rabbi James Bennett told Politico’s Alice Ollstein: “They’re entitled to their interpretation of when life begins, but they’re not entitled to have the exclusive one.”

In Florida, a group of Jewish, Buddhist, Episcopalian, Universalists and United Church clerics are challenging the “aiding and abetting” law because it restricts the things they can say from the pulpit — a classic religious liberty gambit.

Kentucky’s challenge comes from three Jewish women whose faith holds that life begins “with the first breath.” Lead plaintiff Lisa Sobel described how Kentucky’s law bars her from seeking IVF treatment, because she could face criminal charges for “discarding non-viable embryos” created during the process.

Then there’s the Satanic Temple, in court in Texas, Idaho and Indiana. The Satanists say that abortion is a religious ritual, and argue that the state can’t limit their access to it.

These challenges all rest on state religious liberty laws. What will happen when some or all of these reach the Supreme Court? It’s a risky gambit. This is the court that upheld Trump’s Muslim ban and the right of a Christian baker to refuse to bake a wedding cake for a same-sex couple. It’s a court that loves Wilhoit’s “in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect.”

It’s a court that’s so Wilhoit-drunk, it’s willing to grant religious liberty to bigots who worry about imaginary same-sex couples:

https://newrepublic.com/article/173987/mysterious-case-fake-gay-marriage-website-real-straight-man-supreme-court

But in the meantime, the bigots and religious maniacs who want to preserve “religious liberty” while banning abortion are walking a fine line. The Becket Fund, which funded the Hobby Lobby case (establishing that religious maniacs can deny health care to their employees if their imaginary friends object), has filed a brief in one case arguing that the religious convictions of people arguing for a right to abortion aren’t really sincere in their beliefs:

https://becketnewsite.s3.amazonaws.com/20230118184008/Individual-Members-v.-Anonymous-Planitiff-Amicus-Brief.pdf

This is quite a line for Becket to have crossed — religious liberty trufans hate it when courts demand that people seeking religious exemptions prove that their beliefs are sincerely held.

Not only is Becket throwing its opposition to “sincerely held belief” tests under the bus, they’re doing so for nothing. Jewish religious texts clearly state that life begins at the first breath, and that the life of a pregnant person takes precedence over the life of the fetus in their uterus.

The kicker in Ollstein’s great article comes in the last paragraph, delivered by Columbia Law’s Elizabeth Reiner Platt, who runs the Law, Rights, and Religion Project:

The idea of reproductive rights as a religious liberty issue is absolutely not something that came from lawyers. It’s how faith communities themselves have been talking about their approach to reproductive rights for literally decades.

The Clarion Science Fiction Writers’ Workshop (I’m a grad, instructor and board member) is having its fundraiser auction to help defray tuition. I’ve donated a “Tuckerization” — the right to name a character in a future novel:

https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/clarion-sf-fantasy-writers-workshop-23-campaign/#/

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/11/wilhoitism/#hoosier-jews

[Image ID: Moses parting the Red Sea. On the seabed is revealed a Planned Parenthood clinic.]

Image: Nina Paley (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Moses-Splits-Sea_by_Nina_Paley.jpg

CC0 1.0 https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/deed.en

 — 

Kristina D.C. Hoeppner (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/4nitsirk/40406966752/

CC BY-SA 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

[exactlycleverpirate]

Timeline from Xavier's Perspective Part 2

EDIT: Updated with some new information and some adjustments.

(Includes spoilers for basically everything, including all myths.)

This is an update of my earlier post. See Part 1 here.

Timeline from Xavier's perspective (Part 2/Earth):

Timejump.

?1248 (“It’s been 800 years!”)? Sometime in a past life, Rafayel and MC were lovers. (Is this when MC was trapped on the Island of Songs in a hut by herself, doomed to someday drown and Rafayel comes, gives her his heart and saves her?) Then she is cursed and turned into a Sea Witch in the Abyssal Rift. She has no memory of Rafayel or being human. Rafayel exchanges his scale, eternal blood, and a shell with his voice in order to turn MC human and restore her memories. Then he turns to sea foam. (Fragrant Dream.) (This could all be an actual dream or allusion that never happen or hasn't happened yet. However, this could be when Rafayel gifted MC one of his scales and formed the bond between them.)

2018 Xavier checks out a book in the library that MC will check out 30 years later. (An 

1834 AD Xavier, Jeremiah, Isaiah, Noah (Likely actually Jeremiah, due to translation error), and others stranded on Earth. (This timing comes from a promotional video where Xavier says he has been on Earth for 214 years.) (Part of a team called the Backtrackers. Were on a Backtrack mission when something went wrong in the Deepspace tunnel.)

Appointment)

2021 Zayne born Sept 5th.

2024 (...probably) Rafayel born March 6th

2025 The year Xavier claims he was born, on Oct 16th.

2026-2027 MC born. (This age comes from chapter 5.1. The letter she gets from Grandma says she was 7-8 when they started experimenting on her, and she was adopted by Grandma after the Chronorift Catastrophe in 2034.)

Child Rafayel likes escaping to explore the ocean. On one or more of these excursions, he sees a lantern festival and puts out their lanterns. (Ocean At Night)

2032 Xavier joins Arthur's police team. (Anecdote 2)

2033 That winter, Noah (Likely actually Jeremiah, due to translation error) contacts Xavier for information to make a new identity. Noah mentions wanting to be an ordinary person in this timeline and that he fell in love. Xavier fakes his death as a police officer and encounters a lost little girl with a bunny plushie. Fights Isaiah in Linkon city in a fight that makes the whole city go dark. He disguises this by making it look like there is a meteor shower. (Anecdote 2)

2034 Deepspace tunnel appears and Chronorift Catastrophe (timespace anomaly in Linkon city). MC is 7-8, taken in by Grandma. Caleb is also adopted by Grandma. 12 year old Zayne loses control of his Evol at the end of summer and has a nightmare about the Grim Reaper for the first time. Rafayel would be 10 at this time. Xavier appears as Lumiere for the first time, kills the first Wanderer in the Chronorift Catastrophe and saves MC. On December 31st, Lemurian ruins are discovered, after a tsunami southeast of Linkon city, when a rift opens up and reveals it. Her grandma participates in experiments to fuse a human heart and a protocore. At some point, MC's heart is fused with an Aether core. Onichynus and Dr. Noah are both somehow linked to these experiments. Her first heart doctor is Dr. Noah.

At some point in MC and Rafayel's childhood, Rafayel visits the surface world but gets trapped on the beach on his return trip (on Ebb Day?) (Perhaps during her field trip to Hat Island?) She saves him and they make a pinkie promise. Rafayel says if she doesn't return, he will chase her to the ends of the earth. (Nightly Stroll)

Child Rafayel is given a Whale Call as a means of protection, in case something happens on one of his escapes from Lemuria. However, he never uses it, because he never escapes again after this, and sometime later he buries it in the Lemurian city. (Whalefall Lament)

Child Rafayel is tricked and his people slaughtered. Some survivors go into hiding living on land among humans, including his Aunt Talia and K. (Anecdote 3)

Sometime before 2038, MC goes on a field trip to Hat Island (possibly when she meets Rafayel?).

2035 Zayne (age 14) begins medical school at Skywalk University, spends 6 years in med school program. (It normally takes 8.) (From his biography on the hospital wall.)

2043 Zayne (age 22) graduates from medical school. Goes on a mission to the Arctic where he is forced to mercy kill his mission leader who is being consumed by some sort of ice (Anecdote 2). Begins work at Linkon Central Hospital. (From his biography on the hospital wall.)

Rafayel's Anecdote 3 immediately precedes Anecdote 2 (See 2044-2047). Rafayel is singing in the opera and seeking revenge overseas in Verona under the name Mo. He is being investigated by a private detective named Louis. He is not painting at this time. His Aunt Talia is also in Verona. He attends a Seamoon Ceremony for a fellow Lemurian survivor, K. Lemurians are hiding amongst humanity, but being hunted, tortured, harvested for their scales and blood and killed. Rafayel then moves to Linkon city and resumes painting again. He has a photo of MC in his pocket. (Anecdote 3).

Sometime between 2043-2045 MC (17-18) begins attending University of Linkon. (School year usually begins in September.)

2043-2047 Rafayel's Anecdote 2 takes place sometime in this timeframe while MC is at University of Lincoln. That summer, his painting Illusion projects him into the spotlight as a popular artist. In late summer, he becomes a lecturer at University of Linkon. He receives information on her from someone at the Nest. He believes there are “predators'' surrounding her, some of whom may be trying to use her to trap him, so he is wary about approaching her. He burns the photos and information the man who investigated her collects about her. He describes his feelings toward her as painful and addictive, thinking he is ready to spend the rest of his days with her, but also wants to settle the score between them. (Anecdote 2). Thomas becomes Rafayel’s agent. (Anecdote 1).

2045 Xavier meets Arthur at his tombstone. (Anecdote 2)

2046 Zayne makes a groundbreaking discovery about the effects of the Evol gene on heart development. (From the AKSO hospital article about him). He receives the Starcatcher and Linde Awards. (From his biography on the hospital wall.)

2047-2048 MC graduates. (School year usually ends June-July)

2048 Pregame: Zayne becomes chief surgeon. Zayne becomes MC's doctor 6 months before the story begins (in July of 2048, making 6 months prior the month of January) (Dr. Dean/Noah was her doctor before him). Also 6 months before the story begins, Raymond begins exhibiting symptoms of mental confusion and other abnormal behavior. At the start of the year, (per Main Story chpt 2.6) Rafayel returns to the country from overseas. He is known for spending six months painting in his studio, then traveling the world for inspiration/materials for the other 6 months. The month before the main story, Rafayel's art broke the record for the highest selling art at Lizio Auctions. Raymond buys a painting from Rafayel's gallery.

2048 Story begins Wednesday, July 1st (most likely), with MC being initiated as a Hunter in the Hunter's Association. MC is about 21-22, and her Evol has to do with Resonance, Anhaunsen Class. Rafayel is 24, Fire Evol. Zayne is 27, Ice Evol. Xavier claims to be 23, Light Evol. Traceback II is approaching the event horizon and entering the black hole.

See Love and Deepspace: the Story So Far Part 1.

Sometime in the future, after the destruction of Linkon but before the destruction of Earth, Grim Reaper Zayne lives, killing humans turned Wanderer and dreaming of a life as a doctor with the woman he loves. (Anecdote 3)

Part 1 and 2 in this timeline continue in a loop perpetually?

[waitingfortaemin]

Day 527 of Taemin’s enlistment

2018 Pyeongchang Winter Olympics K-pop Festival (160908)

[rosepetalsinwinter]

Meant to Be — Bucky Barnes (6)

Chapter 6 — Could Winter Be a Feeling?

Pairing: mafia!bucky x innocent!reader

Word count:  2,142

Summary: A secret is revealed. Alas, our two love birds finally meet.

Warnings: depressive thoughts, betrayal, abrupt ending.

Note: A short chapter. I ended it where I did for dramatic effect. The next one will be a lot longer! Enjoy!!

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Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

We feel the chill north winds coarse through the home despite the locked and bolted doors... this is winter, which nonetheless brings its own delights.

— Antonio Vivaldi

May 3rd, 2018

Under different circumstances, the girl might have found St. Patrick's Cathedral incredibly beautiful and enchanting. The grey building had completely transformed from the flowers and hanging lights decorating the space for the upcoming festivity. She was idling in the corner of the sitting room, waiting for her father to retrieve her.

Her bridesmaids were in the front hall, lined up with their respective groomsmen at the entrance. Fleur was nowhere to be found.

The girl shifted in her chair, feeling restless. She accidentally caught her reflection in the small mirror on the wall and froze. Her complete image stared back at her, and she barely recognized herself. Her painted lips were downturned in a partial gloom, and dark circles peeked through her glowy skin. Her veil created a halo around her head, bathing her in an air of innocence.

She looked like a bride.

She didn't look like herself.

The girl shot from her seat, suddenly feeling hot. Her lower body came into full view, displaying her figure. Her dress engulfed her, feeling too tight in some places and loose in others. She towered in her heels, like a statue or awkward skyscraper, swaying this way and that.

Eventually, the heat became too much to handle. The girl hastily walked out, staggering like a drunkard, until she found the restroom. She sighed in relief once cool water came in contact with her scorching skin. She let the water stream down her elbow, as close to the sleeve as she could risk.

Already she was feeling better. The girl wouldn't dare ruin her makeup; instead, she ran the back of her hands against her neck and ears, relishing in the coolness it offered. A growing sound in the hall caught her attention— feminine voices nearing the restroom.

What would they think after finding the bride in such state of disarray?

She immediately went into the first stall to avoid a confrontation.

The clacking of heels echoed harshly, and from a crack in the stall door, the girl saw two women enter.

"I still can't believe that bastard is getting married, Nebula," said the woman in the green dress.

"I know, and so suddenly!" Nebula exclaimed. She was wearing blue. "Think he got her pregnant, Gamora?"

Two women were fixing their makeup and talking about her, though she couldn't find it in herself to care. Let them think she was pregnant.

"No way! James Barnes is a lot more careful than that."

"Well," Nebula said mischievously, "if she isn't pregnant yet, she will be soon."

The girl tuned the rest of the conversation out and leaned her head against the stall. She didn't want to hear them talk about her future as if they knew more. She didn't want to listen to them talk about kids.

Her feet were starting to hurt, so she focused on that. She hoped she wouldn't trip in front of everyone. On second thought, it wouldn't be so bad if she did. Maybe, just maybe, the wedding would be postponed if she twisted her ankle badly enough. Or, perhaps, it would be better to get the whole ordeal over with.

"You didn't hear about her mother?" Nebula suddenly hissed.

The mention of her mother broke the girl out of her stupor. She became hyper-aware of every word.

"Eleanor Burgundy? Doesn't she help host the American Ballet Theatre Gala every year? She's pretty."

"Was pretty."

The girl stopped breathing.

"Didn't you hear? She's dead. I went to the funeral last Sunday."

"Shit, Nebula!"

"Yeah. The Barnes were all there, with the Rogers. I even saw Tony Stark. I didn't see the daughter, though."

The girl stumbled, stepping backwards. She heard the words loud and clear but couldn't understand them. She felt cold all over, a stark contrast from before. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard Gamora ask something.

"How'd she die?"

Nebula's voice dropped to a conspiring whisper. "She was murdered."

The girl tittered. She couldn't help it. The moment the words registered, the girl couldn't keep her body shaking as she tried to suppress her laugh. To think she was under the impression the worst had already passed. God was really testing her.

One of them was washing her hands, and the girl's laughter was lost under the sound of the faucet.

"You didn't hear it from me, but apparently, Mrs. Burgundy was against the marriage. So James Barnes killed her."

"It was Eleanor's idea," her father had said. "Your marriage to James Barnes was her idea."

"Jesus!" Their voices moved away as if they were leaving. "That's messed up, even for James. And she's still marrying him?" The door shut behind them, and they were gone after shaking her entire world.

The girl laughed loudly now that she was alone.

"Bahamas," her father had told her.

"What is she doing in the Bahama?"

"Staying away from you."

The girl covered her mouth, giggling through her fingers. After a moment, her laughter ended with a sudden sob. Her breaths were coming in too quickly and not quickly enough. The girl dug her manicured nails into her palms, focusing on the sharp pain radiating through her hands rather than the crushing weight on her chest.

Was she sick? She felt sick. Like she was congested and overcome with the flu, making her ears ring and her head heavy.

She threw open the stall and fell against the counter, dry sobbing between crazed laughter. A minute passed—maybe two—before she straightened her shoulders. Her leer fizzled away, replaced instead by a numbness that comfortably settled in her bones. She was tired.

Her feet moved of their own volition, and she found herself in front of a set of large double doors. The beginning notes of an orchestra emerged from the other side.

"There you are," her father said. "I was just coming to get you." His voice sounded far away as if he were on a different planet entirely. He lowered her veil, then moved her around until she was on his left, placing her arm in his. "Ready?"

The girl must have nodded because Danial took a deep breath and secured his grip.

"Remember to smile." Her father's voice echoed in her ear, and she swivelled her head toward him. They were standing in front of the doors leading to the altar—to James Barnes. Any moment the doors would open, and the girl would be forced to vow her life away to a man she did not love.

She looked her father in the eyes. "I won't ever forgive you."

Danial scoffed. "You say that now, but marriage will change your view of life. What I did won't seem so bad."

She didn't let her gaze waver. "Is Mama dead? I heard she died."

Her father visibly stiffened. "Where did you hear that?"

The doors opened, and soft music reached her ears. Her father looked at her for a moment longer before he cleared his throat, diverting his gaze to the hundreds of people trying to get a peek at the bride.

"That she was murdered."

Her father abruptly dragged her forward, and her words were confirmed. His face was stoic, his jaw clenched, and his movements choppy.

She couldn't look away, trying desperately to find a lie in his expression. They were halfway down the aisle when a camera flash made her blink, and she finally diverted her gaze.

The girl might have found the Cathedral beautiful if the room wasn't three shades too bright and spinning like a top. The carpeted floor beneath her was a deep red, considerably contrasted to her white strappy heels and manicured toes.

So lost in thought, the girl barely realized they had reached the altar. Danial placed a forced kiss on her forehead and shoved her hands in her fiancé's cold ones.

The girl looked at her father one last time, knowing she would never see him again. She was surprised to see tears in his eyes and a hesitancy there that she would have never expected from him.

It was only for a second—barely—but her gaze moved behind her father's head, and she recognized a face she thought she would never see.

Dove waved at the girl with a hesitant smile. She stood out amongst a sea of neutrals and pastels in her red, cowl-neck dress. Her other hand was entwined with Peter—no, Pietro's. The girl's mouth parted with a silent gasp. She didn't want to believe it, but the evidence was hard to ignore. She recalled how adamant Dove was to become her friend when the two met all those years ago. Dove was pretty, strong, and outgoing. She was smart, with an unusual affinity for mobster movies. The signs had been there all along.

Her two best friends sat together solemnly as if they hadn't betrayed her, and they dared to smile and wave like she wasn't slowly deteriorating from the inside. Was she finally all alone in the world?

There was Fleur; Fleur, with her mysterious behaviour and tragic past. Fleur, who pretended not to know certain things, and who somehow knew everything.

The girl whipped her head to the front and fixed her eyes on the top button of her fiancé's suit. She noticed with numb amusement that James' white dress shirt was ruffled, and he was wearing a bow instead of a tie.

His grip tightened, and he led the girl up a step toward the altar. He reached for her then and lifted the veil away from her face, seeing her properly for the first time.

Somehow, it didn't shock the girl that the man in front of her was the same one she'd seen in the hotel's lobby earlier. Her ability to be surprised had lowered immensely. James, however, looked like he'd seen a ghost. His eyes, startling as before, were revealed to be a steel blue. The girl's eyes drifted to James' pink lips when he licked them, but she had to look away when he gulped audibly. She faced the altar and nodded numbly at the priest as a greeting.

James' hands were big in hers, rough and calloused, while hers were soft and pliant. The girl wondered how much innocent blood flowed between the lines of his palms—if it was as red as her father's or as thick.

Theirs was a traditional ceremony. The Barnes were Eastern Orthodox, a fact that made her laugh when she first learned it. It was a trend in literature, it seemed, for evil and familial men to be religious in certain aspects. Did they think believing in a God absolved them of their sins?

The priest droned on, reciting prayer after prayer, performing one ritual after the next. The girl followed along, though she wasn't paying any attention. She was stuck on a single detail that somehow slipped past her before.

She recognized him—James Barnes. Something about him felt oddly familiar, maybe the way he said her name.

"I do."

Last week someone had said her name the same way, with the same cadence, tone, and pace. She was drunk the night of the party but, somehow, remembered a pair of hands on her waist and warm breath on her neck. Her name; said the same way, with the same cadence, tone, and pace.

She had met him before, had she not? That night at the party.

"Hey," he asked softly, dipping his head to look her in the eyes, "you okay, baby?"

Those same eyes. Those same lips.

"I do," she replied mindlessly. James removed her engagement ring and transferred it to her right hand. Then, he revealed another band, just as big, ugly, and heavy, and slid it onto her left ring finger. She did the same with him.

A feeling in her gut surfaced. One of dread and fear.

James Barnes killed her mother. And she was now married to him.

"You may kiss the bride."

James tugged her closer until she had no choice but to look at him, and he smiled down at her. His eyes drifted to her lips before licking his own.

Everything in the girl was screaming at her to run. To never look back. James Barnes was dangerous, and she would ultimately die a slow and painful death if she was associated with him.

James' lips were right there. So close the girl could almost taste them. Though, she never got to.

The last thing she saw before the world turned black were his steel-blue eyes, and she thought, with sudden clarity, that if he were not a monster, she could easily find a safe place amongst his beautiful blue.

Instead, she found black.

Note: I feel the need to apologize. Sorry  :(  :/

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Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! 💜💜

@bbgem329 @broco8 @calwitch @candybabysworld @chwlogy @darlingsuna @emmabarnes @hallecarey1 @la--figue @littlewhiterose @lostyx @marvelatthetwilight @matchat3a @moonlightreader649 @nefri-black @ng4b20 @nothingbettertosay81 @pineprincess @prettywhenicry4 @ria132love @sebastianstansqueen @sergntbarnes @speedysimp @star017 @thegirlnextdoorssister @tinkerbelle67 @umadirectioner @valkyrie418 @vayollie @veroxbarnes @vollzeitliebe @writing-for-marvel

[seoul-bros]

Jimin and his Jin Hyung

Each of the birthday pictures Jimin posted on his Instagram today tells a story of shared experience and shines a bright light on how important Jin is to Jimin. I mean perhaps we should have guessed since these have been his icons on Weverse for the last year.

04/12/2022 11/12/2022 15/12/2022

The photos he posted come from 2018, 2020 and 2021.

Twitter Link

Run BTS! Episode 53 (03/07/2018)

iHeartRadio Music Festival (18/09/2020)

Twitter Link

BTS Winter Package 2021 (26/02/2021)

Twitter Link

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by JIMIN (@j.m)

After all this, I'm leaning towards believing the rumour that jikook will be enlisting at the same camp where Jin is based.

Post Date: 04/12/2023

[aimeedaisies]

✨ 15 days of Princess Anne ✨

August is Princess Anne’s birth month and her 73rd birthday is on the 15th so until then we will look at her fascinating life, one photo for every year!

The 2010s

2010 Princess Anne taking the Newcastle Metro train from Jesmond to Haymarket in March 2010. (I’ve been on this metro route 😂)

2011 Grandma Anne and Grandpa Tim pushing their firstborn granddaughter Savannah Phillips in her pushchair at Gatcombe Horse Trials, on 26th March 2011.

2012 Zara Phillips presented with a silver medal by her mother, Princess Anne, after the Eventing Team Jumping Final Equestrian event on Day 4 of the London 2012 Olympic Games at Greenwich Park, on 31st July 2012.

2013 Queen Elizabeth II and Princess Anne at the Festival of Remembrance at the Royal Albert Hall in November 2013.

2014 Princess Anne and her husband Tim Laurence, looking ever so bored, at the Short Track on day 3 of the Sochi 2014 Winter Olympics at Iceberg Skating Palace on 10th February 2014 in Sochi, Russia.

2015 Princess Anne and King Constantine II at the Beat the Retreat ceremony in Cowes, Isle of Wight on 5th June 2015.

2016 Princess Anne at the annual Founder's Day Parade at The Royal Hospital Chelsea on 9th June 2016.

2017 Princess Anne attending the London Lord Mayor's Banquet at the Guildhall during a State visit by the King Felipe and Queen Letizia of Spain on 13th July 2017.

2018 Princess Anne and Sir Tim Laurence attending the World War I commemorations on the Isle of Islay in the Inner Hebrides of Scotland on 4th May 2018.

2019 Princess Anne with her husband Sir Tim opening the new Commonwealth War Graves Commission Visitor Centre, the CWGC Experience at Beaurains, France on 26th June 2019.

[livesunique]

Ms Luigia "Gina" Lollobrigida OMRI (4 July 1927 – 16 January 2023)

Destined to be called "The Most Beautiful Woman in the World", Ms Lollobrigida was the daughter of a furniture manufacturer, and grew up in the pictorial mountain village. She studied sculpture at Rome’s Academy of Fine Arts, and started her career with minor Italian film roles before coming third in 1947’s Miss Italia pageant. 

After refusing a contract with Howard Hughes to make three pictures in the United States in 1950, Ms Lollobrigida gained for starring turns in 1952’s “Fanfan la Tulipe” and 1953’s “Bread, Love and Dreams,” the latter of which netted her a BAFTA nomination for Best Foreign Actress.

Ms Lollobrigida’s first American film was “Beat the Devil,” a 1953 adventure comedy directed by John Huston that cast her opposite Humphrey Bogart. Over the course of the ’50s and ’60s, she starred in numerous French, Italian and European-shot American productions, with highlights including “Trapeze” with Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis, “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” as Esmerelda, “Solomon and Sheba” with Yul Brynner, “Never So Flew” with Frank Sinatra and Steve McQueen, “Come September” with Rock Hudson, and “Woman of Straw” with Sean Connery, and “Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell,” with Shelley Winters.

Her roles made her a major sex symbol of Italian cinema; in 1953, she won Italy’s David di Donatello award for Best Actress for her performance in the opera star Lina Cavalieri’s biopic “Beautiful But Dangerous,” known in Italian as “The World’s Most Beautiful Woman.” 

She later won two more David di Donatello Award for “Imperial Venus” and “Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell,” a Golden Medal of the City of Rome in 1986, a 40th Anniversary David in 1996 and a 50th Anniversary David in 2006. In 1961, she won the Golden Globes’ Henrietta Award for “World Fan Favorite,” and received nominations for “Falcon Crest” and “Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell.”

After the ’60s, Lollobrigida’s career began to slow down, but she continued to act intermittently, including in the 1995 Agnes Varda film “Les cent et une nuits de Simon Cinéma,” and in ’80s TV shows such as CBS’ “Falcon Crest” and ABC’s “The Love Boat.” 

Ms Lollobrigida also developed a successful second career in photojournalism during the ’80s. She obtained an exclusive interview with Cuban leader Fidel Castro and also photographed many famous film stars, as well as publishing a number of books of her photographs.

In 2011 she made her final film appearance, playing herself in a cameo for the Italian parody film “Box Office 3D: The Filmest of Films.”

The screen legend sale of some of her 23 jewels from her Bulgari  collection at Sotheby’s in 2013 to help fund an international hospital for stem-cell research. 

On 16 October 1999, Lollobrigida was nominated as a Goodwill Ambassador of the UN Food and Agriculture Organization

Ms  Lollobrigida won the Berlinale Camera at the Berlin Film Festival in 1986, Karlovy Vary Film Festival special prize in 1995, and the Rome Festival’s career prize in 2008. In 2018, she received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Ciao, Gina, Riposa in Pace

(Armando Pietrangeli, “Light and Shadow,” Gina Lollobrigida,1960, Trapeze 1956, Woman Of Rome,1954, Salomon & Sheba,1959, Come September, 1961,Un Bellissimo Novembre,1968, The Hunchback of Notre Dame,1956, In London to publicise her book of photographs titled Italia Mia,1974, Fidel Castro shot by Ms Lollobrigida,1974, Gina Lollobrigida pictured on July 11, 2022 in Rome).

[vbholidayfestival]

Lighten up! It’s the Christmas season at Village Bridge, and the Unova League invites you to celebrate with us at our...

                 3rd Annual Holiday Festival of Lights!

Come join the Village Bridge inhabitants for their third major winter holiday celebration! The fields between Village Bridge and Lacunosa Town come to life with a million twinkling lights! Check out this post for more info!

Hosted by the Champion of Unova, Rosa Vail @/unovasrose.

Event Dates: December 15th, 2023 to January 5th, 2024

Event Tag: #vbholidayfestival2023

art credit: Pokémon Center official 2018 holiday art

divider credit: royallaesthetics

[chantsdemarins]

🎄Customer Service Kink (Tom/Loki X Female Reader)

Okay, this might qualify as another Winter Warmer but it might also be too late to add more to that collection! @lokisgoodgirl you tell me!!

So you can just take this as a stand-alone! This is a Tom/Loki mashup fanfic! This is also my first drabble-ish piece. I hope someone out there likes it! Ugh! Nervous.

It's EXPLICIT 🥵 so if you are too young for this please don't read it. Also since it's a Tom/Loki mashup I will go ahead and say...of course, I made this all up! This is not the real Tom Hiddleston, just the Tom of my imagination...sigh.

NOTE: For my non-American readers (just in case you don't have this ridiculous tradition), according to Wikipedia a white elephant party is "...a party game where amusing and impractical gifts are exchanged during festivities. The goal of a white elephant gift exchange is to entertain party-goers rather than to gain a genuinely valuable or highly sought-after item."

Summary: This year’s white elephant party gift is a little better than last year's DIY slushie cup…

🎄Customer Service Kink

December 2018

You opened the door, and he turned around, leaving the girl he was apparently fucking up against the wall-visibly distraught…to say the least.

“Hey!” she growled, pulling down her tight body con dress bashfully, and trying to fix her hair.

“That was incredibly rude to just stop like that,” she said, glaring at you both while storming off.

He had just been 100% involved with her. Now he was 100% staring in your direction. What was happening here? Fast words spilled out of your mouth.

“Oh god, sorry, I was actually just trying to find where the drinks were. I am going to leave now….” You began to back out of the room, but you knew who he was right away.

You couldn’t believe he would be someplace like this. His reputation for being such a "nice guy" seemed to be crumbling second by second as the scene you found yourself in unfolded.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said coldly, with a flat countenance that was unnerving. Prickly even.

He was right. You were not privy to Hollywood parties like this. You were here by accident, by chance. You were not dressed for the occasion either.

To start with, you still had your clothes still on.

You glanced nervously around the room you had haphazardly walked into. You had been separated from your friend earlier while trying to walk through a full-on naked EDM dance party.

Continuing to wander through the big mansion for what felt like hours, growing more and more alarmed at the activities going on had led you to this moment.

This room you’d stumbled upon was decorated in black, barely lit candles adorned side tables, smells of alcohol, cigarettes, and other illicit things filled the space so densely you could scarcely breathe.

You could barely think.

You could also smell his cologne as he closed the space between you. It smelled of blood oranges and his fancy car's leather interior.

These were the only things on his person, he was naked except for his rather expensive-looking blue cardigan you were certain was cashmere.

Why did he care that you had come into the room when he was fucking that girl? Everyone in this tiny room was fucking…everyone at this party was fucking or just about to-so why didn’t he just let you leave?

You were rattled. Where had your friend gone?

You looked around the room again, trying to shake his eye contact. You poked your head outside the room, looking for Emily, but she was still nowhere to be found. There were only the rapturous bodies around you, full of sweat and moans, which seemed stereotypical of what you’d guessed a Hollywood sex party would be like.

You laughed a little at the thought of how predictable humans could be. Except for this one staring you down. He didn't add up.

You finally spoke, defending yourself.

“I was invited,” you lied.

You weren’t invited. You and Emily had been gifted invites last night at your company's white elephant holiday party. In retrospect that now seemed like a sick joke. Whichever co-worker was behind this, was truly twisted!

He continued talking as you shifted on your heels.

“No, you were most certainly not invited, I would know. This is my friend’s party. It’s by invitation only,” he countered with a sharp inhalation that narrowed his already chiseled face.

You held your breath. Was he threatening you? Mr. Internet boyfriend? Mr. God of Chaos and kindness? You’d been wrestling with these Hollywood people for years, but their nerve never ceased to amaze you. You certainly could not tell him you got these invites at a white elephant party. He might not even know what that was, being British.

“Where’s your friend then?” he continued, running his long fingers across the outline of his sharp jaw.

“Perhaps somewhere else spying on celebrities too?”

Now he was just being an entitled asshole. That was enough.

“You know, for someone with a reputation for being “the nicest guy in Hollywood” you seem like a dick.” The irony was not lost on you that his huge, gorgeous dick was right in front of you. Maybe it was a slip-up that you called him a dick in your nervousness. He noticed you were looking at him. All of him. Your eyes hadn’t moved from him in fact. Shit. Shit. Shit.

His eyes now traveled up your body, holding every ounce of you. He stepped back some, perhaps to take even more of you in. His eyes narrowed.

“Something caught your eye?” he mumbled, biting his lip a little, changing his interrogation into something...else.

“I wasn’t looking at you!” you declared, feigning decency.

If you only had your goddamn phone, you could text Emily and get out of here, but it was locked away in some weird makeshift cloakroom manned by people who looked like they would have been more comfortable serving drinks on the lounge of a spaceship…

Maybe this was one of those weird moments that parallel the animal kingdom. You were just a random female who got in the way of this British bastard's mating ritual, and now since his first chick apparently slinked off, he was going to have you! Dear lord.

He didn’t wait for you to answer him or make any other decisions.

Suddenly he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you to the balcony. Using his free hand to unlatch the glass door and push you through with the other. He seemed to pirouette, gracefully maneuvering through bodies and the decomposing refuse of the evening. Discarded bras, boxer shorts, sex toys, lube, and fishnet stockings rolled up in little balls, all obstacles along his path, cleared with ease.  

“Wait, wait, what are you doing??” You were frantic. Was he throwing you off the third floor into the LA night? His fiendish stare was growing more and more laced with intent.

“I think you talk too much,” he said once you were on the balcony. The chill of the night coursed over his primarily naked form. The tactile juxtaposition of his hard body with the soft cashmere of his cardigan was not lost on you. It was a mood.

The holiday decorations on the balcony flickered on and off. There was a goddamn Christmas tree out there too. Strands of silver tinsel were blowing in the wind that whipped through the ridiculous hills. But you could not take your eyes off his body, even as you tried to orient yourself to the scene.

Lithe and wiry yet entirely carnal. It was like he’d lived in his skin for a thousand years. Every moment a graceful execution of awareness and now seemingly an invitation…to know him.

“You are, um, masterful with your body, um….” you tried to compliment him in the middle of this chaos. You were scared, but there were worse things than being on a balcony of a mansion in the middle of the Hollywood hills trapped by this man. You’d been in similar sketchy situations, but none quite like this.

As if he was reading your mind, he breathily said, “This is what celebrities are. We are for public consumption. We are here for you.”

“You are?” you said, maybe a little confused.  Was he mocking you, or was this perhaps some kind of kink?

Then you thought about it. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but maybe this "at your service" was his thing? Possibly he had a little customer service kink?

If that was the case, could you play the part of the customer?

A million thoughts raced through your head again. You dealt with stressful things all day, you could think your way out of this. You did take acting classes in college, after all...

You decided it was his kink. He was an actor. He sold his art for a living, so why not his body? This was it. You'd figured him out.

You tried to remember your college class, you got into a part by mostly letting go and focusing on every detail around you. So, you stilled your heart which was threatening to leave your chest, and breathed, accepting the invitation he was extending.

You fixed your gaze on him, and spoke, praying you got this right.

“I paid good money for this tonight, sir. 5,000 dollars better give me something extraordinary, this is my Christmas present after all.”

Maybe it was a stupid thing for you to say. Perhaps you’d read him wrong, but then he pulled you to him.

Bingo.

“I don’t have dissatisfied customers. Especially during the peak holiday shopping season,” he purred.

“What does the lady like?”

Good lord. You swallowed audibly. So, you two were on. This was happening.

Being honest wasn’t easy for you. Especially under pressure, but if you were ever going to get better at telling anyone-let alone a kinky impromptu celebrity lover, you better try.

The following things that unraveled out of your mouth next were a fever dream at best.

You stood up tall and commanding. The customer is always right.

“I want you to stop fucking around and stroke that big fat cock of yours,” you tried to keep from smiling as you demanded he comply with your orders.

His 'good guy' was showing slightly as he considered your request. A slight smile threatened to inch across his face.

He took a few breaths and then moved his large hands over his cock, stroking it lightly. Your eyes were glued to the veins in his hands. Were they popping out? They were, goddamn it. They were.

The careful way his fingers held his cock, he was savoring every touch.

Touching himself turned him on.

Christ. One of your kinks was his kink too. Your luck this evening was astounding.

You could remember no more words from him after that—just his immediate, unfettered approach. You both began to hurriedly undress you. He plopped you up on the railing. You looked over out into the night, was that a coyote you heard howling? It was so dark out there…

Noticing you were a little nervous about falling, he steadied you with one hand, while he removed your pants with the other. This was definitely not his first rodeo.

He moved closer, his free hand grasped your breasts, tugging. He was kissing you now, his lips on your neck. Sucking. Pulling your hair back to make sure he could kiss your ear, nipping on your lobes, his tongue moving inside. His lips found yours, and as his passion seemed to grow, his teeth clanked against yours. Clumsy but earnest.

He pulled your lower lip with his mouth, biting. Your eyes must have been closed because once you opened them, you saw he’d finally removed the cardigan sweater he was wearing.

He was completely naked now.

You weren’t fully undressed, but it seemed he didn’t want to waste more time before his face was between your legs. Panties pushed aside and his mouth molded to your sex in such a precise way you immediately wondered if this man did do this professionally.

His wild tongue now lapped at your core relentlessly. Your hands folded through his curls, pulling, hanging on for your life. One leg hitched on his shoulder while your bottom barely held its place on the rail.

Then without warning, he took both of his large hands and held your ass, pulling your sex deeper into his mouth. You were not able to keep your balance. He knew this. This cunning fuck. He knew what he was doing.

You collapsed on his body, and you both fell to the ground. You arched backward and prayed to God Emily had found some other random invitee to talk to. You prayed she had not come looking for you. His eyes, the most cerulean blue you’d ever seen, almost seemed filled with tears. Was he crying? Should you check in? Jesus. Why are rich people so complicated?

You thought about saying something but didn’t. You were already in this. You were going to keep going.

Sliding back from his wanting mouth, you dragged your obscenely wet sex along his obnoxiously taut stomach until you were close enough to grab his cock with your right hand. You lifted yourself up, maybe with a slight twinge of caution-you proceeded to rub the tip through your folds. The slip was insane, and it would only take a flick of your wrist until he was entirely sheathed. He perhaps felt your momentary caution, so he placed his hand over yours-guiding himself in. Christ!

You made a slight moan and a slight quiver as you shimmied down on him. His eyes were watching your every move.

This was his thing, rapt attention to detail. It was unnerving and very erotic, maybe the most erotic thing you’d ever experienced.

His eyes watched his cock disappear inside you. Once fully there, he didn’t seem able to keep up the bad boy act. He fully smiled, almost as if to say, “Are you going to be able to handle this?” He knew what he had.

You weren’t entirely sure. There was no room. He filled you completely. If you were leading the rest of this dance, you’d forgotten the steps, so he instinctively placed both of his hands on your hips.

“Move slowly. I have you,” he said, still watching.

Your face was blushing. A crimson hue spread and decorated your chest. This was too much. Did you sign an NDA? Were there going to be legal ramifications?

But you remembered what to do.

You remembered to breathe and feel. You fought another smile emerging as his hands moved from your hips to your hands. His fingers laced through yours, and his hips arched up, sending his cock deeper. Waves of sensation were threatening to overwhelm you. You could feel every part of him. You were tracking your shared euphoria as it grew. You both intensified your pace, and when he almost went too hard, he pulled himself back, slowing down-savoring you. Every move of his body was attentive and intelligent. He grabbed your breasts and brought them to his mouth, taking each nipple in delicate worship. Maybe he didn’t want this to end. You didn’t want this to end. Not tonight. Not this month. Not ever. Oh no, what was happening?

You suddenly felt something like...jealousy. You suddenly didn’t want to imagine him moving on to the next woman, man, or anyone.

He could tell you were somewhere else as you continued to move your hips, lost in your feelings. This time the tears were in your eyes. You were not part of the elite. Therefore, you didn’t go to sex parties. This wasn’t like you. You didn’t do casual so well.

“Hey…,” he whispered.

“Come back to me,” his hands found yours again, fingers intertwined again. He brought one of them to his lips and kissed it.

“Are you okay?” This time he stopped moving beneath you. He gently pulled you off him and sat you both up.

“I get it,” he said a little awkwardly.

“You might not,” you replied, trying to remain strong and reminding yourself you could have lovers. You had lovers. He was just such a good lover.

You put your hair behind your ear and looked at him as you sat inside his mammoth legs, staring at him. Passion still swirling in your body. The chilly wind found you both. He looked around, and with a long reach, he found his sweater and placed it around your shoulders. You smelled his cologne again. Blood oranges and leather interiors.

“I’m sorry. Did I just ruin everything?” you said, not looking at him.

“I did not expect to get emotional.”

He leaned in closer, making sure you were paying attention, holding your chin with one of his large hands.

“Me either,” he said.

“What, you are feeling emotional too?”

“I thought you saw me crying earlier?” he said coyly.

“Those were tears?”

“Jesus. Woman, yes, those were tears! Look, I’m not some callous fuck with no emotions. This was very emotional for me too.”

“But when I walked in the room, you were fucking someone else…so I assumed.”

"Yes, oh, that. I know. God. Why are things always like this?"

He rubbed his shoulders with his hands nervously as he tried to explain himself.  

"You go to these events, or at least someone like me goes to these events because I can, and I leave half of myself back in my hotel room. You turn off so much, and I just couldn’t with you. Maybe because I haven’t had sex with a normie in a long time..."

"Wait, did you just call me a normie?"

“Well, aren’t you?”

"What is your definition of "normie"-If working a 9-5 job makes me a normie and not having a trust fund, then I guess I am." 

Looking slightly offended, he countered, "That’s not what I meant!"

What came out of your mouth next surprised you both. A surge of clarity came over you.

"Maybe we should stop talking and just finish what we started."

He seemed to recognize that more discussion would likely lead you both into philosophical territory neither of you wanted to trek across at the moment. He looked at you. Eyes wide and beaming.

“I am still quite hard for you, my little normie darling.”

You aimed one of your balled fists, intending to hit him, but he intercepted and pulled your wrist sideways and down. He launched his body over yours, pinning both arms over your head. Stradling you now, with his cock on your stomach.

“As I said, I am determined to deliver 100% customer satisfaction.”

You sighed. Why not let him? It’s just an orgasm. It’s just another ten minutes or so with one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen, let alone had inside you.

"Okay."

"Okay, what, darling?" he teased, still holding your arms above your head.

"Okay, satisfy me," you relented.

"Satisfy you with what exactly, pet?"

"Your huge cock," you said, knowing this was likely also his kink. So why not oblige?

"My pleasure," he said, loosening one of your hands long enough to guide himself back inside you. You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit it was one of the most glorious feelings you’ve ever had.

You repeated a mantra in your head, “Just go with it. Just enjoy it. It’s Christmas.” He grabbed both of your hands again, this time pinning them harder. Once more, almost on cue, as if reading your mind, he said, "You’ve been a good girl."

You might have rolled your eyes a little as he proceeded to ruthlessly fuck you, his cock so expertly aligned for pleasure. He swirled his thumb across your clit. He pushed your legs up further along with your arms.

You were going to come hard, and he knew it. So was he. The vulnerability returned as you saw him getting closer. His movements become erratic. His pace in ruins. He didn’t pull out. He simply came inside you, sweet and resonant, filling you. You came shortly after, gasping for air, finally wringing your arms free so you could wrap them around him. Both out of breath, you exchanged glances. You were both too smart for role-playing, but it worked this time.

He looked like he was thinking something over, as you slowly moved to get dressed, understanding your time was running short either the party would consume him again or Emily would find you-both of those things hastened your final descent away from his warm body.

"How did you end up here normie?" he finally asked you.

"I don't think you'd believe me."

"Try me."

"White elephant gift. My stupid colleague put this under the tree at our holiday party. We didn't know what it was until we got here and surrendered our phones in that weird cloakroom. I think whoever gifted us the invites was trying to piss someone off here...you know two outsiders show up, throw off the scene...it's a classic."

"Well, it worked didn't it?" he laughed pulling his sweater over his naked body, which must be freezing by now.

"Yeah and no phones, so there's no way I'll ever be able to contact you, I can't possibly remember a British phone number anyway, arent' they like a hundred numbers or something?"

"You don't even know my name either, so no looking me up on Instagram mister," you laughed a little sadness punctuating your candor again. He was good. Really good. Probably at everything he did. Not just fucking normies.

"I have a pretty good memory if you want to try me, what's your name? Might as well tell me, since you were contraband tonight anyway. I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time earlier." he laughed and once again bore his eyes into your soul.

There seemed no harm in telling him, it's not like you would actually see him again.

"My name is Y/N," you squeaked out as you pulled your boots back on.

He smiled and opened the glass balcony doors for you both, leading you back into the chaos. He quickly put on his clothes while you tried not to look around.

"You aren't staying?" you wondered aloud.

"Right, I don't think so actually"

He was about to say something else when Emily walked into the room, cutting him off, and looking slightly horrified.

"Y/N where have you been! We need to get out of here!"

Emily then looked at him and then back at you, and looked at him again.

"You are...you are Tom Hiddleston...Loki," Emily mumbled barely able to make out words.

"Thanks for blowing my cover," his stern face returned momentarily.

"Oh Jesus, I'm sorry!" Emily looked even more horrified and looked around wondering if anyone heard her.

"Just kidding!" Tom said, smacking her arm lightly.

"Everyone knows everyone here, all good."

Emily looked at you again, then Tom again. Questions tumbled in her head.

"Do you two know one another?"

Tom looked at you, his blue eyes visible even in the dim sex party lights.

"We do," he said, smiling ear to ear.

[bingoboingobongo]

task force 141 + christmas songs

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John "Soap" MacTavish, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Type: Fluff, headcanons

Warnings: explicit language

A/N: the order is kinda whack i wrote these as i thought of them. also i have two tests tmmrw halp

ghost:

yes ghost's favorite christmas song is last christmas by wham! it's been confirmed

i mean can you blame him?

to ghost, it's everything he loves about music mixed with a christmas song he can relate to (sort of)

he likes the sort of mellow but still peppy nature of the song (especially compared to artists like mariah carey who he thinks is too peppy and michael buble who he thinks is too mellow)

it's the sorta song you can absent-mindedly sing to while you're working which he enjoys

plus the drums and the cymbals (?) really get him in the festive mood

whenever he listens to it he'll tap his foot/nod to the rhythm or lipsync under the mask (another benefit of keeping his face covered)

ofc your chances of seeing him do this in front of the team are slim to none

but when he's alone (either with you or just in his room or smthing) he'll pull out a little shimmy when the song starts getting good

he also likes the sort of sad undertone to the lyrics

he feels like it adds depth and makes it relatable

kyle "gaz" garrick:

alright hear me out on this one because i actually really love this hc

so first, i can totally see gaz being a fan of tyler, the creator when he was younger, but then being less invested as he grew up

but he went to see the grinch (2018) in theaters on christmas day with his family and that was when he first heard the song

off topic but i also hc that gaz has a younger sister and brother

and they're like considerably younger, like they're children

idk what his canon family situation is like but idc bc this is what's canon now bc i said so

so yeah that's why they went to watch the movie

and i mean what's not to love about this song

he really likes the rap/hip hop twist on a classic christmas song

and let's be real the whole soundtrack slaps like gaz was definitely listening to it on repeat for the entire holiday season that year

when gaz hears this song he definitely starts grooving, clapping, singing along

i mean it's not like he has a choice the song is actually so good i love it so much

like he's just so in love with the way tyler, the creator was able to reinvent an old song and give it such a good beat and like completely change up the cadence but still make it sound good

and yes he lives for the ending scream

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

guys i mean this is just fact atp

and don't say that this isn't a christmas song because that is rudy's biggest pet peeve and he will fight you about it

because according to him it came out during the holiday season and it's a movie with amazing visuals of snow and winter and the main character literally has ice powers so therefore it's a winter movie

sometimes the rest of the team will try and come up with other movie soundtracks that would therefore qualify as christmas music according to his standards

this always pisses rudy off and he'll insist it's different

i think the best part is that rudy watched frozen 2 by himself

i mean he was a big fan of frozen he wanted to see the sequel can u blame him

in his opinion the plot was a little weaker than the first but the soundtrack gave the original a serious run for it's money

and of course before this came out his favorite christmas song was let it go (and yes he also got mad when people said it wasn't a christmas song)

he likes the panic! at the disco version over the idina menzel version because he says it makes him feel more seen

nobody really knows what he means by that

you guys just assume it's because it's a male singer

rudy will also sing this song out loud any chance he gets

he's a decent singer don't get me wrong but that song's got some high notes rudy just can't hit

he swears that one time he was able to hit every single one but he was alone when it happened

usually though he can hit a solid majority (and he always geeks out when he does)

and yes, he will insist on watching frozen and frozen 2 during the holiday season and yes he will sing during every song

john "soap" mactavish:

honestly same, soap, same

soap's a firm believer that not only is this song the best christmas song out there, it should be the face of christmas instead of mariah carey's all i want for christmas is you

people have tried pointing out that all i want for christmas is you isn't necessarily the face of christmas but he insists it is and insists that title is undeserved

he says he hates it because it's overplayed but everyone else is 99% sure there's something more

your theory is that one of his exes really liked all i want for christmas is you and then it ruined the song for him

but now onto sleigh ride

soap believes it's the epitome of everything christmas

it's festive, it's peppy, it's got great vocals

he really likes the instrumentals and it's honestly his favorite part

the snaps, the piano, the flute/whistling, the trumpets (?)

whatever it is he's in love and he thinks that it really just sells the cheeriness of christmas

he also lives for the 'ring-a-ling-a-ling-a-ding-dong-dings"

he will sing those out loud all day any day

he also tries to do mariah carey's whistle notes every time and not once has he ever gotten it

beyond that he also just sucks at singing

but honestly he just seems so happy singing that it sorta cancels out the way he's making everyone's ears bleed

he also does a little head wiggle and shimmy combo to dance to this song

and he does that little like dance and point at the parts of the song right before the beat "drops"

john price

alright so the first time he listened to this song was after christmas one year when his nephew said he wasn't cool

so he figured this song would make him cool

the efficacy of that tactic is still being debated

i mean don't get me wrong pentatonix fucking slaps

but also the acapella version of anything is not a very orthodox way of making yourself cool

needless to say his nephew was not impressed when the next christmas came around

price doesn't care though because he actually fell in love with the song after listening to it for so long

he's very much in awe of the way all their voices can come together and make it sound there's actually instruments and stuff

like he will rave about it for so long whenever the song comes on

whenever it plays he sings along but he doesn't try and beat box

that's bc one time he did that in front of gaz and laswell and gaz had to leave the room while laswell stared at him in shock

it's been his secret life mission to get insanely good at beatboxing and then show them someday ever since then

progress is not going well

also you can bet he has this song memorized to the tee

and yes he'll chastise people if they put the wrong gift to the wrong day

unlike his beatboxing, price's singing is actually pretty good so at least it gives the team something nice to listen to

alejandro vargas:

ok i feel like at first his favorite song was baby it's cold outside by idina menzel and michael buble

and then rudy pointed out the creepy undertones and it ruined the song for him

also he was distraught when he found out

and then this song took over as number one in his heart

for starters, he's just a massive fan of michael buble

also he once got front row tickets to a michael buble concert but he couldn't go last minute because he got called on a mission and he's still salty about it

he likes the way michael buble rewrote the lyrics to be more fitting for guys

also he likes the sorta relaxed almost lazy rhythm of the song

he insists it makes it sexier

nobody knows what that means or why it matters but he's very persistent about it

and god damn alejandro's singing voice is actually good fr

like it gives michael buble but if michael buble was a smoker and did country songs

but honestly the gravel in alejandro's voice works really well when he's singing

and lord knows he sings this song whenever it comes on

it's not obnoxious tho so it's nice to listen to

he doesn't really dance but he'll jokingly offer you a slow dance to this song

he considers this the classiest christmas songs and says it's only for people with real taste in music

[lovelyz-diary]

180317 Yoo Jiae at 2018 Pyeongchang Winter Olympics Kpop Festival © 슈퍼스타김케이 do not edit, crop, or remove the watermark

[douglas-rain]

Happy Birthday to Douglas Rain!

Today would have been the 96th birthday of Canadian actor Douglas Rain, born 9 May 1928.

[Pictured: A press photo of DR for the 1958 season of the Stratford Festival of Canada, where he could be seen performing the role of Prince Hal (no, not that one) in Henry IV, Part One and the Young Shepherd in The Winter's Tale.]

Of course, Douglas Rain is mostly remembered these days for providing the voice of HAL 9000 in 2001: A Space Odyssey, but I'd like to invite you all to join me today and take a little tour through the rest of his work, a selection of which I have managed to track down over the past few months. We've got documentaries, radio dramas, TV movies and of course stage plays!

It's a very incomplete collection (one day I will raid the CBC and find out where they're hiding all the radio work DR has done, mark my words), but it currently includes highlights such as

King Henry V from the Shakespeare play of the same name, who spends most of the runtime going through every emotion known to man (and a few more we had never seen before)

Dunstan Ramsay, the protagonist of Fifth Business and the human embodiment of the phrase "sure, why not?"

Orgon from Tartuffe, who is just. The dumbest bitch you've ever seen

That moment from the narration for The Man Who Skied Down Everest where, after an hour and fifteen minutes of calm and soothing monologue, DR suddenly starts mumbling and I Have Never Been More Scared In My Life

And many more!

[Pictured: DR in the 1966 TV broadcast production of Henry V, the 1968 production of A Midsummer Night's Dream (both with the Stratford Festival) and the 1969 London production of Hadrian VII.]

Btw if you've seen his birthday listed as 13 March anywhere, ignore it. Here's the article I wrote detailing my descent into madness trying to figure out which date is the real one, but the tl;dr is that it's 9 May according to writer and former NFB producer Gerry Flahive, who emailed Mr Rain's ex-wife Martha Henry about it in 2018. Anyway.

[adagiospace]

It's been a while since I published it, so I wanna share the PDF version of my 2 Tsukiyami doujinshi that's printed some years ago

Both is Koumyou Sanzo x Ukoku Sanzo ship book, and warning about some violence, blood, dark stuff, the.. standard Saiyuki warning I guess.

Language: English. I'm not native English speaker, so I apologize if the dialog sounds weird.

Read from LEFT to RIGHT

--

[1] THE NIGHT IS STILL YOUNG

Is the collection from comics I draw in 2018 until 2021. Originally my comics were drawn for web (vertical) format. It's separate stories and overall theme is dark. !! Warning for a R18 chapter. It's my first book so it's still a bit messy~

** Book 1 PDF: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qeV2Psvw5u0gM7P1XQFD-3D68QSdHEUW/view?usp=drive_link

[2] BENEATH THIS SKY

Is doujinshi published in 2022, another solo anthology about Tsukiyami relationship in [Four Season] Theme, the stories are all connected. Overall lighter theme because I was terrified after rereading how dark first book was, some Chinese culture references and Teresa Teng's song (lol)

This book very much have implied meaning with dialog, it might be a bit hard to notice the hints, but it's all about Koumyou relationship with Ukoku, between a colleague, also a mentor, maybe friends, or maybe closer than friends, in metaphor of Four Seasons - Born in Spring, Grow in Summer, Reaped in Autumn, Stored in Winter, and its relevancy to current chapter's festival. For example, Qingming festival (festival of tomb-sweeping, to reverence one's ancestors) in Spring, Quifen in Autumn (Midautumn festival to gather with friends and family, to eat moon cake together in happy occassion). Please see notes in the end for short description about what actually referenced in the chapter

Bonus R18 chapter is not planned, it's just me having naughty impulse.

** Book 2 PDF: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1_82S4E-E0obRL7Z5kKmYQ_YW727UWlnN/view?usp=drive_link

** BONUS R18 CHAPTER (Need Pixiv login): https://www.pixiv.net/artworks/101532942

--

Please DON'T REPOST DON'T REPRINT ANY CONTENT OF THE PDF, I've uploaded MOST of my comics here / Twitter / Pixiv.

Also my tip jar because those two living rent-free, I'd appreciate any good tea I could buy from tip jar haha https://ko-fi.com/adagiospace

Enjoy my delusion about those two.

I love them so much.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

A Medieval Christmas

By Mark Cartwright

1 December 2018

Christmas was one of the highlights of the medieval calendar not only for the rich but also for the peasantry.

For the longest holiday of the year, typically the full twelve days of Christmas, people stopped work, homes were decorated and a Yule log burned in the hearth.

Gifts were exchanged, colourful church services enjoyed, and merry feasts were eaten by all where there was better food and more of it than at any other time in the year.

There were plenty of songs, dancing, pantomimes, and games, too. For many, just as today, Christmas was the best of times.

The European medieval calendar was not short of holidays: each season had its own special Christian celebration, often based on older pagan traditions.

Medieval holidays were a chance to have a much-needed rest from the usual daily toil and to socialise at family meals where the typical dreary menu of the poor was replaced by such rarities as meat and fish, and the table of the rich was adorned with exotica like roast peacock.

Christmas was the longest holiday of the year by far and lasted from the night of Christmas Eve, the 24th of December, to the Twelfth Day, Epiphany, on the 6th of January.

Mid-winter was a time of year, which saw a lull in agricultural activity, and consequently, many peasants were permitted by their lord to have the entire two weeks off.

The season also involved gift-giving and decorating the home with garlands and wreaths of winter foliage.

As one description of 12th-century CE London by William Fitzstephen records:

"Every man's house, as also their parish churches, was decked with holly, ivy, bay and whatsoever the season of the year afforded to be green."

(quoted in Gies, 100)

Holly, with its glossy dark green leaves and bright red berries, has been considered the ideal winter decoration since antiquity.

Ancient Celtic druids thought it sacred and able to ward off evil spirits, while the Romans used it as a gift to show esteem and goodwill.

Mistletoe is another long-used decoration, which ancient people thought a bringer of fertility, protector of crops, and something that kept away witches.

Long before the Christmas tree took centre stage in the 19th century CE, a double ring of mistletoe was the centrepiece of many a home's decorations, under which couples could kiss, removing the jewel-like berries with each peck.

Over time, the traditional church services for major Christian holidays became more elaborate and Christmas was no exception.

The Church at Christmas

Naturally, in the very religious communities of medieval times, the local church was a focal point for the Christmas celebrations and services were well-attended by all classes.

One development from around the 9th century CE was 'troping,' which was to add extra dialogues and songs to the service.

An example of troping in the Christmas celebration was an elaboration on the question, which choirs sang:

Quem quaertitis in praesepe? ('Whom do you seek in the manger?').

One half of the choir would sing the line and then the other half did.

This eventually led to a dramatisation using individual speakers and actors, which resulted in the presentation of nativity plays with the Magi and King Herod playing prominent roles.

Another play that became popular in church services of the festive period was The Prophets in which a priest conducted a dialogue with various prophets such as Jeremiah, Daniel, and Moses.

Choir boys played dressed up bit-parts like a donkey or devil.

The Feast of the Holy Innocents (Childermas) on 28th of December commemorated King Herod's failed attempt to murder the infant Jesus by ordering the execution of all children in Bethlehem under two years of age.

The church on this day, perhaps bizarrely considering the gravity of the occasion, indulged in a bit of traditional festive role-reversal with choirboys taking the place of the bishop and other higher clergy to conduct services and even to lead a torchlit procession.

The celebration of the Feast of the Circumcision, held on the 1st of January, was even more outlandish, which perhaps explains its other name of the 'Feast of Fools.'

Minor clergy would wear their clothes inside out and lead an ass into church where, upon arrival at the altar, they would burn incense made from old shoes, eat sausages, drink wine and make the sounds of a donkey.

The local clergy, if not invited to their nearest lord's castle, celebrated with a fine meal of rarities at home.

Larks, ducks, and salmon could appear on the menu, or perhaps a kid. We know one abbot of Ramsey Abbey in England reserved for himself a wild boar each Christmas dinner.

Even monks had a treat or two at Christmas. The diet of those in medieval monasteries was quite good anyway but Christmas feasts included more meat and fish than usual.

We also know that at monasteries such as at Cluny Abbey in France, the monks received a new gown and had one of their twice-yearly baths at Christmas (any more was not permitted).

Christmas in a Manor

Amongst the landed aristocracy, comfortable in their castles and manors, Christmas gifts such as fine clothes and jewellery to wear for the season were exchanged on the 25th of December.

There was another round of gift-giving on the 1st of January, too. Known as 'first-gifts,' they were thought to be an omen of a person's fortune in the coming year.

Much like today, though, the real joy of Christmas for many was the food on offer.

Usually held in the Great Hall of a castle or manor, the setting for the Christmas meal for the aristocracy was suitably splendid with high wood-beam ceilings and at least one roaring fire.

The hall was made even more impressive with festive garlands of holly, ivy and other seasonal greenery.

The tables were set with the usual knives, spoons and a thick slab of one-day-old bread (a trencher or manchet) to be used by way of a plate for meat.

Christmas diners were also treated to the luxury of a change of tablecloth after each course.

Two diners shared a bowl for washing hands (everything except liquids was eaten with the fingers), another bowl for soups and stews, and a small bowl of salt.

Served as an early lunch, the first course was typically a soup, broth or weak stew with some meat at the bottom.

The second course might be a vegetable stew (porray) of leeks and onions.

The rich were fortunate enough to have meat as their next course on ordinary days – rabbit, hare and chicken, for example – but Christmas saw finer meat delicacies, fish (e.g. salmon, herring and trout) and seafood (e.g. eels, oysters and crab) courses presented to the guests.

Meats were roasted on a spit over an open fire. Besides legs of beef and mutton, there was veal, venison, goose, capon, suckling pig, duck, plover, lark and crane, to name a few.

A special Christmas dish the cooks might prepare to wow the guests included a boar's head on a platter or a swan or peacock roasted in its feathers.

Sauces added more flavour to many dishes and, thickened with breadcrumbs, they contained wine or vinegar, and herbs and spices.

Dessert consisted of thick fruit custards, pastries, nuts, cheese and luxury fruits like oranges, figs and dates.

There were also entremets – various decorated nibbles glazed with sugar and honey – which were served before the dessert course at Christmas and other feasts.

For drinks, there's red and white wine (from a cup shared with one's dining partner), which was drunk young as it had a short shelf-life.

Wine was often mixed with water or sweetened with honey or sugar.

Alternatives were cider and ale, although the latter, made from grains and fermented with yeast, was considered a lower class drink.

Beer made using hops would only appear in the late Middle Ages. Dessert might be accompanied by a jug of spiced wine.

While all this feasting was going in the Great Hall, the servants of a castle were not forgotten as traditionally they were given better food at Christmas such as geese and hens.

Finally, the leftovers of the feast were taken outside to the waiting poor.

The manor dining table might have had some surprising guests as serfs on the castle's estate did get to live it up a little at Christmas when, by tradition, they were invited to the manor on Christmas day for a meal.

On some estates, the invitations were restricted to just two lucky recipients.

Traditionally, one of the poorest and one of the wealthiest peasants who could also invite two friends along.

Unfortunately, most peasants invited to their local lord's abode had to bring along their own plates and firewood, and of course, all the food had been produced by themselves anyway.

However, they did get free ale and it was at least a chance to see how the other half lived and relieve the dreariness of a country winter.

A Peasant Christmas

A peasant's Christmas was obviously rather less grand than that enjoyed in the local manor or castle, and for them, the season did not start well.

Serfs, already subjected to all manner of odd fees over the year, were expected to give a 'gift' to their lord at Christmas of extra bread, eggs, and perhaps, even a valuable rooster or a couple of hens.

In contrast, free labourers on the estate, especially the more important ones such as the estate's shepherd, swineherd and oxherd, received presents from the lord, typically a bonus of food, drink, clothes and firewood.

It is a tradition, which continued into later centuries, when household servants received a box of gifts on the 26th of December, hence the name of that day in Britain: Boxing Day.

Children's gifts from their humble parents included such simple toys as spinning tops, whistles, stilts, marbles, dolls, and figures made from wood or clay.

Peasants would have decorated their homes much as aristocrats did, with greenery such as holly being readily available for those who searched for it.

An old, possibly pagan tradition persisted, which was the burning of a Yule log.

Actually, a sizeable piece of tree trunk, the log was lit on Christmas Eve in homes of all kind and kept burning for the twelve days of Christmas.

For the special meals of the holiday, peasants ate that rare delicacy of – usually boiled – meat, treated themselves to cheese and eggs, ate cakes and drank ale.

There was certainly lots — the brew typically made by peasant women.

The 1st of January was important as people hoped for better fortune in the coming year.

A superstition developed, like the gifts the rich exchanged on this day, that it was terribly important who the first person to visit one's home was on New Year's Day.

Called 'first-footing,' certain characteristics were considered desirable in this first visitor: a male with a dark complexion, perhaps fair-haired and, best of all, with flat feet.

Christmas Entertainment

There were all kinds of entertainments on offer over the Christmas period.

Drinking alcohol was the most popular of all. The fact that merry-making could easily get out of hand is attested by the common custom of lords paying special watchmen to guard their estates in case of riots.

A record from an estate near Saint Paul's Cathedral in London tells us that watchmen were set from Christmas Day to Twelfth Night.

These men were recompensed by 'a good fire in the hall, one white loaf, one cooked dish, and a gallon of ale [per day]' (quoted in Gies, 208).

Even if drinking such large quantities was relatively common and the ale weak, with four and a half litres of ale per watchman, it is a wonder they themselves did not get a bit rowdy.

More genteel festive entertainment included monks touring and performing plays in private residences, which told key episodes from the Bible, especially, of course, seasonal topics such as the Massacre of the Innocents by Herod.

Similarly, in cities, medieval guilds put on public pageants where wagons went through the streets carrying people dressed as personalities from the Bible's Christmas story.

Troupes of masked pantomime artists known as mummers went through the streets, too, accompanied by bands of musicians.

Sometimes numbering over 100 revellers, they dressed in outlandish costumes as lords, cardinals and knights, and even ventured into people's homes to dance and play dice.

Receiving food and drink in return for their entertainment, mummers often performed short plays with scenes from familiar legends such as Saint George and the dragon.

There were games like cards and dice (which included a bit of gambling) and board games such as chess, checkers, backgammon and Nine Men's Morris.

Traditional Christmas games included the 'king of the bean,' which permitted the person who found a hidden bean in the bread or a special cake to be 'king' or 'queen' of the feast.

That honoured person then had the right to lord it over everyone else who often had to mimic whatever action the king or queen did at the table.

The game was traditionally played on Twelfth Night and was an example of the tried-and-tested role-reversal hilarity, which went back to Rome's pagan December festival of Saturnalia.

Christmas meals were followed by more drinking of wine or beer, singing of songs, including carols, and group dancing to music from pipes, flutes, lutes and drums.

Professional acrobats and jongleurs (minstrels) performed their tricks and witty verses.

Folktales were told, embellished and re-told every year, puppet shows were put on, and people played parlour games, many of which survive today such as blind man's buff and prisoner's base.

Another such game involved one member of the party being dressed as a saint while everyone else had to make them an offering (no doubt, an amusing one), which they had to do without smiling and resisting the antics of the saint or else they themselves became the saint.

Another game was 'The King Who Does Not Lie' when the 'king of the feast' might ask a question to any guest who, if they answered truthfully, could ask a question in return.

Such games were, of course, a chance to show one's wit and skill at wordplay, to embarrass a friend or to find out a sweetheart's inclinations.

For the more energetic, there were sports such as feats of strength, archery, wrestling, bowling, hockey, and medieval football where the goal was to move the ball to a predetermined destination and there were few, if any, rules.

Sliding on frozen lakes was a popular activity in winter, too.

Alternatively, by strapping the shin bones of a horse to the feet and grabbing a pole for propulsion, the courageous could try ice skating.

The End of the Holiday

Christmas through the ages has witnessed festive fun and frolics, and so, inevitably, the return to ordinary working life must have been something of a shock in the medieval period after this longest of holidays.

However, even then peasants made a celebratory game of the proceedings by, for example, holding a plough race at sunrise on the first Monday after Epiphany, known as Plough Monday.

There was another tradition, perhaps again to lighten the burden of returning to the daily toil, on 7th January, also known as Saint Distaff's Day.

This day was “a day of carnival, an occasion for 'misrule,' for 'comic battles between the sexes' in which men set fire to women's flax and women made sure men got soaked” (Leyser, 225).

[persianatpenn]

Celebrating Jashn e Mehregan with Khoresht e Fesenjan 

This weekend, I had the opportunity to travel home and learn how to prepare Fesenjan (فسنجان) from my mother. Fesenjan is a stew (khoresht, خورشت) made of walnuts, pomegranate, and chicken, and is served with Iranian polo: long-grain rice seasoned with saffron. The dish is of Northern Iranian origin and dates back several centuries (1). Fesenjan is not a food that my family eats on a regular basis, but rather on special occasions. In particular, this Sunday was the Iranian holiday of Jashn e Mehregan (جشنمهرگان), a celebration of the autumnal harvest (2). Fruits such as pomegranate and nuts such as walnuts are especially characteristic of this time of year, and so Fesenjan seemed like a natural choice to commemorate the holiday. This was my first time preparing a Persian dish, and while I held the preconception that Persian khoreshts are laborious and time-consuming to make, cooking Fesenjan proved to be a relatively simple process which anyone can do! Throughout the process, I learned that the key to Iranian cuisine lies in its subtle pairings of flavors— not necessarily spiciness— an approach which is meant to accentuate the natural characteristics of the ingredients. With Fesenjan in particular, the richness of the walnuts complements the tart sweetness of the pomegranate to produce a uniquely sumptuous flavor reminiscent of fall or winter. Overall, what I enjoyed most about cooking Fesenjan was its ability to bring my family closer together. Working in the kitchen with my mother, and later enjoying the meal with my whole family, I was able to learn more about my cultural heritage and my parents’ experiences. After all, cuisine is the centerpiece of Persian familial and social life. 

دانیال

Khoresh-e-Fesenjan: An Iranian Masterpiece. (2018, May 3). https://kitchensofhistory.wordpress.com/heirloom-recipes-2/khoresh-e-fesenjan/

Jashn-e Mehregan, Persian Harvest Festival. (2014, October 2). Financial Tribune. https://financialtribune.com/articles/travel/1757/jashn-e-mehregan-persian-harvest-festival

Below is the recipe (serving 4 people) used along with pictures:

Using a food processor, pulverize 4 cups of walnuts. Set this aside for later. 

Season eight pieces of deboned chicken thighs lightly in salt and pepper, as well as 2 tablespoons of flour to seal-in their juice. 

Sauté the chicken briefly in a pan until its exterior is golden-brown, then transfer it to a baking dish. Season with 1 teaspoon of turmeric.

In the same pan as before, sauté one diced onion. While the onion is still cooking, add the pulverized walnuts and sauté the mixture well. After about five minutes, add one tablespoon of flour and 2 minced cloves of garlic.

Transfer the onion and walnuts on top of the chicken. In the same pan as before, bring 32 oz. of pomegranate juice to boil. (Note: Alternatively, pomegranate paste, can be used.) While the pomegranate juice is being heated, add 1 tablespoon of honey. 

Pour the juice onto the chicken, onion, and walnuts. Cover with aluminum foil and bake at 425 F for one hour. Then, remove the foil and bake for another 20 minutes.

Serve the final product with polo and enjoy!