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angelkarafilli · 5 days

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Hadrian's Wall was built in c. AD 122 on the orders of Emperor Hadrian. Today, the Wall runs across northern England, but when it was built, it was the northern frontier of the Roman province of Britannia. With the exception of a couple of decades in the mid-2nd century AD, Hadrian's Wall was the north-west frontier of the Roman Empire for approximately 300 years. It was built to separate the Romans from the Barbarians¹ and may have been built in response to guerrilla warfare waged by the natives. It was certainly built to secure the border and control the movement of people in and out of the Empire.

The Wall is believed to have taken about six years to complete, although it would continue to change and evolve for decades after completion. Initially, some parts were built from timber and turf and others in stone. Eventually, the entire Wall, from Maia in the west to Segedunum in the east, was built in stone. In front of the Wall, where there were otherwise no natural features for protection such as rivers or cliffs, the Romans dug a deep ditch. Behind the Wall was the Vallum, which was an earthwork that comprised two banks of earth with a deep ditch in between. The Vallum stretched almost the entire length of the Wall, over 70 miles, and probably defined the rear of the Wall-zone.

The height of Hadrian's Wall is difficult to know because so little of it remains. It probably varied depending on the terrain. For example, the Wall as it crossed the high cliffs of the Whin Sill was possibly about 4-4.6 metres high (13-15 feet) and slightly higher—possibly 4.6-5.5 metres (15-18 feet) or more—when it crossed easily traversed terrain.

Hadrian's Wall has been used as a quarry since it was abandoned. Today, only about 10% of the Wall remains, and the sections of wall that have survived stand at a height of just 1-2 metres in most places. However, as recently as the 16th century there was a section of Wall standing 5 metres high (16 feet) near Bowness-on-Solway. Samson Erdeswick records in 1574:

"Begyning abowt a town called Bonus [Bowness-on-Solway] standing vppon the river Sulway now called Eden, and there yet standing of the heyth of 16 fote, for almost a quarter of a myle together, and so along the river syde estwards."

William Camden (16/17th century):

"Within two furlongs of Caervoran, on a pretty high hill the Wall is still standing, fifteen feet in height, and nine in breadth."

Bede (7/8th century):

"It is eight feet in breadth, and twelve in height, in a straight line from east to west, as is still visible to beholders."

These writers lived many centuries after the Roman military abandoned Britain. Even Bede, the earliest reference to the height I have used, was writing some 300 years after the Roman military had left Britain. Thus, the Wall might have lost a few feet in height in places by his day.

With regard to thickness, Hadrian's Wall was up to 3 metres (over 9 feet) thick, but again, it varied. Some sections were about 2.5 metres thick (8 feet), and other sections narrower.

In its day, Hadrian's Wall was an impressive 73-mile-long (80 Roman miles) stone structure with no fewer than 16 large forts, 80 milecastles, and about 160 turrets. It crossed over rivers, hills, and along cliffs, from the west coast to the banks of the River Tyne in the east.

An unbelievable structure that survives from the ancient world.

Location: above Sycamore Gap looking east.

Source:International Man of History/FB page

#Hadrian's Wall #Romans #Britannia #c AD 122 #Northern England #history #ancient world #Sycamore Gap

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owls-den · 2 years

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OHMIGOD YOU GUYS-

It's here. It cost me 27€ in taxes and I had to rush to go give them a check BUT IT'S HERE!

FREE HIM!!!

underthecut

OH MY GOD HE'S SO SMALL I LOVE HIM!!! AAAAAA SO SOFT I'M LITERALLY DYING OVER HERE!!

Unfortunately couldn't get my Mimikyu clip earrings, they were in shortage :(((

BUT I GOT THE MOLDS!!! I prepared a whole ass sheet of pumpkin spice sugar cookie dough in the freezer 2 weeks ago for THIS very reason!!

Having the time of my life ✨

I was a dumbass and didn't apply flour right away on top, nor did I transfer the dough on a floured counter SOOOO some of them are kinda deformed. THE SECOND AND THIRD BATCHES WERE AMAZING!!

LOOK AT DEM PUMPKABOOS!

They tasted pretty good!! For a recipe I improvised, it wasn't half bad :D maybe a bit more pumpkin could have done the trick!!

I'm gonna make hazelnut Gengar cookies next >:)))

Ah and as for the incredible Pokemon Fairytale book cover, I don't think I have any books fitting it so I might just bookbind so it fits perfectly. ❤️❤️❤️

Overall AAA THIS IS SUCH A GOOD DAY!!!

#owl bakes #AHHHH IT ARRIVES #Pokemon Center #Was expensive as shit tho since I got it straight from Osaka #Like o u c h my wallet #But none of these items were available in the french pokemon center last I checked #But next time I'll try to buy from there to avoid the transportation fee #Pokemon #Pokemon merch #Baking #Pumpkaboo #Sycamore #Professor Sycamore

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insecateur · 2 years

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every day since i've come back to this website i'm constantly fighting the urge to either post "lysandre and sycamore are kissing right now as we speak" or "*pushes lysandre down the stairs*"

#samtxt #i push lysandre down the stairs so sycamore can kiss him better this is h/c 101

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chadscapture · 2 years

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1969 Yenko Nova S/C

#1969 Yenko Nova S/C #sycamore

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jonphaedrus · 1 year

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“So what is it you need, my friend?” Augustine asks, and almost before the words finish leaving his lips, Lysandre pulls back and slaps him in the face.

sometimes the hurt is the comfort, and sometimes you expect something to be really depressing and it's not, and sometimes you write t-rated cnc by accident. c/c/c vexes me in many ways, but i guess that's what it's here for.

have a fic.

#perfectworldshipping #lysandre #professor sycamore #pokemon xy #furapura #c/c/c #this is a stable writing tag #prfr

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wavesalwayscrash · 2 months

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Some palette doodles I did a while back!

#extra art #c: canary #c: condor #c: mariner #c: sycamore #gore #keep forgetting to post art i make of these kitties here LOL

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hellsitegenetics · 3 months

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zoology student here! found you via the malaria post (funnily enough this week my class has had quite a handful of lectures on malaria as part of a unit on parasitism) and im just... blown the absolute heck away by your posts AKJHSFHJKCB. it is scratching my brain in such a great way. you are doing the gods' work, keep it up!

String identified: g tt ! a t aaa t ( g t ca a a t a a ct aaa a at a t aat) a t… t at c aa t AC. t catcg a c a gat a. a g t g' , t !

Closest match: Drepanosiphum platanoidis genome assembly, chromosome: 5 Common name: Sycamore aphid

#tumblr genetics #asks #aethersflames #insects #bugs #sycamore aphid #this photo is so cute. just the two of us.....

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yeyinde · 1 year

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YES the smoking kink is developing... im asthmatic but im also a whore so id give anything to sit on price's lap while he smokes his cigar. idk if you do smuts BUT mmmm imagine c*ckw*rming him, sitting all nice and pretty for him, him calling you a good [insert nickname here] or "sweet little pet, behaving so well for me" abdvsvdhisb my brain is short-circuiting there is only daddy price thots

"Good girl—," it's a coarse purr slurred around the end of his cigar, billowing with satisfaction. Dark, rich. The euphonious praise makes you shiver. "—bein' so good for me, ain't you, mm?"

⇾word count: 2,2k

⇾warnings: cockwarming, mentions of smut; dom!Price; breeding kink; feelings resolution (kinda)

⇾notes: i'm back on my soft Price agenda.

There is a dull throb in your body—the twinge of a low-grade fever—that simmers in your marrow. You feel like a massive contusion: worn and sore, tender. It’s not entirely dissimilar to an elastic band pulled too far, stretched too taut; it slips, skin smarting where it strikes. The burn makes you mewl into the soft, damp heat pressed beneath your cheek. The rich scent of oakmoss and cedar fills your nose, settling heavily in your lungs.

You find comfort in the charred sycamore and sweat that trickle down your throat.

Lashes flutter in a futile effort to blink away the milky cobwebs that spool over your eyes and shroud the world in moondust, but each blink feels like an offering to Hypnos. It keeps you in that equinox of sleep and wakefulness: a borderland between two states.

You blink again, lashes connecting like a lock and key. An anchor.

It feels like a battle to open them, but you do when the land beneath you ripples. Rumbles. The movements of tectonic plates; the aftershocks jar you into cognisance.

Your heavy eyes lift. The world is condensed into a blurry varicoloured smear of wry burnt umber curls, blotchy peach and pink flesh dusted with topaz freckles, and the hazy edge of a white collar.

It takes you a moment to shake off the tendrils of Hypno's grip, and then you’re back—back, but not quite. You exist in a hazy realm of understanding. A strange purgatory where you last remember searing heat, and pressure, and—

Being battered by the thick of his cock, wrenched around like a rag doll as he planted his feet on the floor, and canted his hips into your quivering body. It is all a murky bog of bliss and euphoria. Gentle words. The grind of him digging into the plug of your womb, the searing heat when his mouth latched onto your pulse point. The molten bloom in your cunt when he came, filling you up.

Resting your head on his chest—eyes mercury and head fuzzy; somnolence leaking over you like slow-rolling molasses. Just for a minute, you slurred out, basking in that liquid pleasure that spooled inside you. Just a minute.

It all lingers in a gossamer of pleasure that bleeds over your thoughts.

And now:

Cognisance returns in a slow drizzle of familiarity.

Rough skin grazing yours. Thumb brushing the aching knob of your hips where he dug his fingers into the soft give of your flesh, rutting into you like a man starved. The deep, even breaths that crackle in your ear; the rise and fall of his chest. The warmth of his body. The heavy scent of him permeates around you—amber, cured spruce wood, burning tobacco leaves, and smoke.

The sizzle of burning tobacco leaves. Charred ashes. The scent of his cigar clots in the humid air.

Your head pounds from the explosion of endorphins that ripped through each synapse until they were liquid, and brimming with bliss; your body buzzing as each and every nerve pulsed with the deluge of dopamine. The crash of it leaves you feeling windswept, and conquered.

A low hum resounds through your chest, the echo of it reverberating through your ribcage. The hand slides from your hips, resting heavily on the small of your back. Coarse hair ticking your nose. The rustle of paper sounds somewhere in the distance—clearer, now, that the world has stopped spinning.

An elastic band stretches, and stretches, and—

Pressure. Tacky warmth. A fullness that perches on the equilibrium of familiar and foreign.

—snaps back.

You mewl at the liquid fire in your veins, and the too-full feeling inside of you.

"Shush, shush." His beard grazes your cheek when he lowers his chin to your ear, voice thick and full of smoke, drenched in nicotine. "Easy, love. Sleepin' beauty back with me, eh?"

You huff into his neck, throat thick with his taste and barren of words. Bone dry, your tongue slips out, drags over your kiss-bruised lips, accidentally catching the iodine on his skin. Balmy sweat. The sea in autumn. You press your mouth to his pulse, feverish for the familiar taste, and eager for more. Teeth scrape across his skin, suckling in the ambrosiac tang of him until it floods your mouth.

He rumbles again, a throaty trill that makes your core throb. Another inhale around his cigar; a crutch, you think, to stem the want.

Price pulls it away, arm brushing over your back. You can see the smoke rise out of the corner of your eye. It's clutched between his thumb and forefinger, dangling over the armrest.

"Start that again, and I'll end up throwin' my back out." He husks, warm hand dragging up the length of your spine until he cups the back of your leaden head. "Ain't as young as I was."

The heat of his voice, the way the smoky roll makes your belly flutter, brings awareness to that strange sensation inside of you. Your sore muscles clench around the thick of it—

"Fuckin' hell—!" His head falls back, tipping against the back of the seat. The groan that slips out is stretched taut and frayed.

Your thighs flex, shifting. You feel the sticky mess pooling in his lap, glueing the coarse hair dusting over his thighs to the back of your legs, under your ass. It leaks out around the plug of his softening cock.

He's still inside of you.

It ricochets through you, rippling down your spine.

The sensation of it sits in a strange haze of pleasure; it feels good to have him inside you like this, but without the normal movement, the grind of him against your walls—brassbound, thick—it feels foreign. Different. A dip into too much. The pressure of him sitting there, still stretching your walls taut, makes you keen in your throat.

"Ah—John—"

“I got you,” he says, etching small circles over your spine, head tilting to nuzzle his chin over your crown. Soothing. Calming. "I want you like this," he murmurs, throat clicking when he swallows. "Want you sat on my cock—just like this—while I finish up here. Can you do that for me?"

You huff, breath pluming over the skin of his neck until goosebumps form. It's strange, and too much, and—

"It's okay," he rasps, cock thickening with each of your exploratory wiggles. His hand slides down your back, settling you with a soft noise. "Easy, now. Just take it, yeah? Keep me inside of you like this. All my cum inside of your cunt."

He burrows his head into your neck, beard scratching over your raw skin. It makes you moan, makes you flutter around him, pulsing like a heartbeat. His words are nirvana in your veins; a bludgeon to your core.

"Might even take hold, eh? Filled you up—nice and deep—and now it's gonna stay here, mm? Gonna—fuck—gonna get you—"

He bites the word off with a growl when you moan, muscles spasming around him. More cum leaks out of the tight seal.

He groans again. A purr imbued with smoke. "You want that, don't you? Want to be good for me, mm? Just like this."

You swallow down the briny taste of him on your tongue, lashes fluttering. Heat pools in your belly.

Just like this. Just like—

You’ve never considered keeping him inside of you after he was finished, sat pretty and fucked stupid on his cock, but it ignites a fever under your skin. There is something intimate about it that makes your heart prickle, and your breath quicken. You shift, burrowing deeper into his hold. It's easy to find comfort on his lap, in his arms. You exhale deeply through your nose, breath ghosting through the coarse scruff on his neck.

It's a strange feeling being completely bare, stuffed to the brim with him. Your thighs are tacky from his spend slowly leaking out around the bulk of him as he moves in his chair, finding his own comfort.

His gaze slides to you when he brings the cigar to his mouth, eyes pitched low and liquid in the soft, jaundiced light of the lamp on his desk, waiting. The spark of ochre, bright vermillion, as he inhales catches in the sapphire pools. Magna in shades of blue. Mercury congeals on the rim.

He looks good with a cigar dangling from his teeth.

"Alright?" He murmurs around the thick of it, soft and velour—eyes brimming with something thick, syrupy sweet.

It surprises you sometimes that this man who's often nursing tea to soothe the rawness in his throat after howling himself mute on the battlefield can speak so gingerly. Growling whispers; pinched commands barked out in rasps are one thing, but this—

Soft curls of smoke seep into the aether. Mild and molten. Liquid fire.

The fact that this adamantine man speaks to you, only you, in abated whispers, as if he's softening himself, scourging the grit from his throat after years of screaming himself raw, sneaking his father's cigars in his youth, and down glasses of scotch as if it was water makes something rear within you.

It clots inside your pericardium: a mass of affection, cloying and full.

He wants this. You can see it in the dichotomy of blue that fixes itself on you, firm and unyielding. He wants it, but he won't take it. He won't make you stay here if you don't want to. You feel him inside of you, and the contrast juxtaposition between earlier when he was seated just as deep, in this very position, to now, when the room is bathed in ochre, and thick with the scent of sex and sweat and stale tobacco, is worlds apart. Different. But—

It's somehow more intimate than when he'd sat over his knee, and slapped the cheeks of your ass until it was bright red and blistering. Or when he perched you on the edge of his desk, growling out commands when you adjusted, trying to stem the sting when you sat, and buried his face between your thighs, drenching his beard in your slick.

Him, inside of you like this feels—

Natural. Domestic.

You flush, heart thudding as the bloom of—

Affection. And something else, something you bite into pieces, chewing between your molars until it's ground down into ash, masticated before it can be spoken aloud. Unutterable words not meant for the brisk and brutal physicality of your relationship, and yet.

It's there. Lingering.

Your head swims. You drop your forehead to his chest, greedily soaking in the warmth that bleeds through his still-damp shirt. His heart thuds in your ear, crown pressed beneath his chin when you turn.

Price waits for a moment, eyes still burrowing down at you, searching for any flicker of discomfort. Always the dutiful leader even when he's buried to the hilt inside of you. At your soft, breathy sigh, he turns away from you. Clears his throat of the smoke, thumb cresting over the knobs on your spine.

"Good girl—," it's a coarse purr slurred around the end of his cigar, billowing with satisfaction. Dark, rich. The euphonious praise makes you shiver. "—bein' so good for me, ain't you, mm?"

"Yes," it's tremulous, brittle. The breathy whisper makes his pulse quicken. His nostrils flare. His brows tick, waiting. Expectant. And you flush, words thick and soporific when you utter them:

"Yes, daddy."

He groans, throbbing inside of you. The cigar wobbles, teetering dangerously between his lax mouth. He rights it, biting into it with a snarl. "Bloody hell…"

He doesn't act on it. His eyes crest, lidded and full of smouldering want, but he lets it rest, lets the flame simmer. It's not about that right now. Not yet. Not when there is a small fell of paperwork on the desk behind you, and sleep beckons you, spits poison in the crest of your eyes, glossy and lachrymose until your eyes grow fuzzy, thick with exhaustion.

His weighted gaze lifts when you melt in his embrace, settled, secure. Just where he wants you. Needs you.

Price reaches for the paper, trading it for the cigar. His gaze oscillates between the report in his hands—unspeakable evils in underbellies unknown—and the soft way you muzzle into his chest. You can feel his eyes on you. A pendulum. It makes you smile, heart singing.

When he eases in his seat, eyes drifting back to his work, low hum and murmurs falling from his lips as he loses himself in the ugliness of the world, you press your lips to the tender beat of his pulse and whisper those unutterable words into the smoke-drenched warmth of his chest.

His breath catches, a shallow exhale. His hand stills. Body tenses.

Your lashes flutter when you open your eyes, meeting his liquid gaze.

His shoulders sag. You hear the rising crescendo of his heart when he presses his lips to your crown. He clears his throat again. His thumb brushes your spine, slower this time. Reverent.

Charred, husking words, the colour smoke seeping from the end of his lit cigar, spill from his lips, tender, softer, than ever before.

#this was really fun to write ngl #soft price is my new favourite thing ever #i also listened to nothing but lana while writing him #so i guess i should tag that as a mood #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #john price #john price cod #john price x reader #john price x you #call of duty modern warfare

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battyaboutbooksreviews · 6 months

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Queer Books November 2023

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Struggling to keep up with all the amazing queer books coming out this month? Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Remember to #readqueerallyear! Happy reading!

❤️ The Pirate and the Porcelain Girl by Emily Riesbeck 🧡 Heading North by Holly M. Wendt 💛 The Wisdom of Bug by Alyson Root 💚 Trick Shot by Kayla Grosse 💙 A Holly Jolly Christmas by Emily Wright 💜 Outdrawn by Deanna Grey ❤️ Yours Celestially by Al Hess 🧡 The Christmas Memory by Barbara Winkes 💛 Violet Moon by Mel E. Lemon 💙 The Santa Pageant by Lillian Barry 💜 Only for the Holidays by Shannon O’Connor 🌈 Homestead for the Holidays by Wren Taylor

❤️ You Can Count on Me by Fae Quin 🧡 No One Left But You by Tash McAdam 💛 The Worst Thing of All is the Light by José Luis Serrano, Lawrence Schimel 💚 Today Tonight Forever by Madeline Kay Sneed 💙 Wren Martin Ruins It All by Amanda DeWitt 💜 Emmett by L. C. Rosen ❤️ Finding My Elf by David Valdes 🧡 Tonight, I Burn by Katharine J. Adams 💛 Gorgeous Gruesome Faces by Linda Cheng 💙 Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree 💜 A Power Unbound by Freya Marske 🌈 We Are the Crisis by Cadwell Turnbull

❤️ The Manor House Governess by C.A. Castle 🧡 You Owe Me One, Universe by Chad Lucas 💛 Last Night at the Hollywood Canteen by Sarah James 💚 Skip!: A Graphic Novel by Rebecca Burgess 💙 Something About Her by Clementine Taylor 💜 Touching the Art by Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore ❤️ A Nearby Country Called Love by Salar Abdoh 🧡 Normporn: Queer Viewers and the TV That Soothes Us by Karen Tongson 💛 Sir Callie and the Dragon’s Roost by Esme Symes-Smith 💙 The Order of the Banshee by Robyn Singer 💜 Once Upon My Dads’ Divorce by Seamus Kirst, Noémie Gionet Landry 🌈 Forsooth by Jimmy Matejek-Morris

❤️ A Common Bond by T.M. Kuta 🧡 Risk the Fall by Riley Hart 💛 Just a Little Snack by Yah-Yah Scholfield 💚 Home for the Holidays by Erin Zak 💙 NeurodiVeRse by MJ James 💜 Dark Heir (Dark Rise #2) by C.S. Pacat ❤️ sub/Dom by Rab Green 🧡 Bitten by the Bond by Elaine White 💛 Heir to Frost and Storm by Ben Alderson 💙 The Sea of Stars by Gwenhyver 💜 Bad Beat by L.M. Bennett 🌈 Idol Moves by K.T. Salvo

❤️ Plot Twist by Erin La Rosa 🧡 In the Pines by Mariah Stillbrook 💛 The Crimson Fortress (The Ivory Key #2) by Akshaya Raman 💚 Only She Came Back by Margot Harrison 💙 Megumi & Tsugumi, Vol. 4 by Mitsuru Si 💜 Pritty by Keith F. Miller Jr. ❤️ Just Lizzie by Karen Wilfrid 🧡 An Atlas to Forever by Krystina Rivers 💛 Come Find Me in the Midnight Sun by Bailey Bridgewater 💙 Bait and Witch by Clifford Mae Henderson 💜 Shadow Baron by Davinia Evans 🌈 Day by Michael Cunningham

❤️ Livingston Girls by Briana Morgan 🧡 Delay of the Game by Ari Baran 💛 The Nanny with the Nice List by K. Sterling 💚 A Talent Ignited by Suzanne Lenoir 💙 A Kiss of the Siren’s Song by E.A.M. Trofimenkoff 💜 Rivals for Love by Ali Vali ❤️ Whiskey & Wine by Kelly Fireside, Tana Fireside 🧡 Buried Secrets by Sheri Lewis Wohl 💛 Ride with Me by Jenna Jarvis 💙 Living for You by Jenny Frame 💜 Death on the Water by CJ Birch 🌈 Merciless Waters by Rae Knowles

❤️ Vicarious by Chloe Spencer 🧡 Sapling’s Depths by Spencer Rose 💛 That French Summer by Sienna Waters 💚 System Overload by Saxon James 💙 King of Death by Lily Mayne 💜 Warts and All by Ashley Bennett ❤️ Principle Decisions by Thea Belmont 🧡 The Best Mistake by Emily O’Beirne 💛 Sugar and Ice by Eule Grey 💙 Until The Blood Runs Dry by MC Johnson 💜 Splinter : A Diverse Sleepy Hollow Retelling by Jasper Hyde 🌈 The Mischievous Letters of the Marquise de Q by Felicia Davin

❤️ The Queer Girl is Going to be Okay by Dale Walls 🧡 Til Death Do Us Bard by Rose Black 💛 Leverage by E.J. Noyes 💚 Alice Sadie Celine by Sarah Blakley-Cartwright 💙 Godly Heathens by H.E. Edgmon 💜 Gwen & Art Are Not in Love by Lex Croucher ❤️ To Kill a Shadow by Katherine Quinn 🧡 Warrior of the Wind by Suyi Davies Okungbowa 💛 For Never & Always by Helena Greer 💙 A Demon’s Guide to Wooing a Witch by Sally Hawley 💜 Heaven Official’s Blessing: Tian Guan Ci Fu Vol. 8 by Mò Xiāng Tóng Xiù 🌈 A Carol for Karol by Ann Roberts

#book release #queer fiction #queer romance #queer books #queer #books #books to read #queer book recs #book recs #batty about books #battyaboutbooks

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