#Sacred scones

[these-detestable-hands]

Honestly feeling kinda meh about it but I'm still happy I experimented a bit with the weird lineart

#Pieknightt's art #Sacred scones #Fire emblem #Fire emblem sacred stones #Fanart

[coffeenewstom]

Toms Kaffee-Moment: Afternoon Tea im Strand Palace Hotel

Toms Kaffee-Moment: Afternoon Tea im Strand Palace Hotel

The Strand ist eine der typischsten Straßen in London. Ihren Namen hat sie aus einer Zeit, als an ihr noch die Themse vorbei floss, bevor sich das Thames Embarkment  dazwischen schob. Früher einmal war sie die Verbindung zweier Städte, City of London und City of Westminster. Heute beginnt die Straße am Trafalgar Square und verläuft nach Osten bis zur Grenze der City of London, wo sie in die Fleet…

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#Afternoon Tea #City of London #City of Westmister #Clottet Cream #England #Großbritanien #London #Quenn #Sacred Café #Scones #Soho #Strand Palace Hotel #Tea Time #The Strand

[thetiredstuff]

This is just mostly a handy little post for me but I asked people to rec me some destiel AU best friends to lovers fics and this is what I got:

Recs from ltleflrt:

okay, cupid. by orange_crushed On Air by wincechesters Just Turn Around and Go by @porcupine-girl Version 2.0 by Elizabeth1985 aka @cocklesheadboop Ignore the Butterflies: Best Friend Advice from Dean Winchester by impatient14 A Match Made (and Misunderstood) by surlybobbies More Views. More Money. by herbivoredinosaur Remember When by VioletHaze aka @scones-and-texting-and-murder When In Vegas by Dmsilvis & TobytheWise

Recs from doctorprofessorsong

One of my favorite fics of all time is Evangelist by @valleydean. It's really enemies to friends to lovers but the enemies part becomes friends pretty quickly because they are deeply obsessed with each other. One of the classics if you haven't read it is To Build a Home. Childhood friends who broke up and find themselves back in each other’s life. It is very angsty but they have a lifelong friendship so you get a lot of childhood and teenage friendship moments. If I may self recommend, I just wrote Can't Fight the Moonlight in which they are in this post canon partnership and both want to add sexual intimacy but the partnership is soft so you get some really fun platonic intimacy. It's not AU, obviously, but may have something of what you want. Seraph by @dothraki-shieldmaiden is a superhero au where they are friends and roommates to lovers. It has great world building. More than Kisses by @friendofcarlotta is a friends to lovers epistolary romance. Dean and Cas are pen pals and they share an absolutely gorgeous emotional intimacy. Tiamatv has a few that fit the bill. I'm gonna mention Marchen because I love the world built in that one. Dean Winchester is a prince locked in a tower. Feel free to also skim my fic recs. @riversrecs

Recs by castiellesbian:

tiamatv's "It's the End of the World (As We Know It)" is a friends to enemies to lovers if that counts? They were childhood best friends in that one "A Midterms Night's Dream" by Englandwouldfall is an au where they're roommates (oh my god they were rommates). "In Some Sacred Place" by schmerzerling is a good one where they're friends throughout most of the fic, but it's kind of depressing overall

Recs from porcupine-girl

Just Turn Around And Go (roommates-slash-best-friends): https://archiveofourown.org/works/4228830 Like four weddings and a funeral but without the funeral (Sam POV, Sam is clueless and doesn’t realize they’re together): https://archiveofourown.org/works/6225625 Go Down With This Ship (online fandom besties, don’t realize they know each other irl): https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023642

Rec by trampledundercas

#i thought of ‘ready to fall’ by lemonsorbae on ao3

A whole bunch of recs from dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you

A Tale of Two Tropes by Amelia_Clark (E, 7k) As You Walk On By by MercyBraavos (E, 23k) Are We Any Different? by LeviathanBlue, SerpentCountess (T, 41k) More Than Kisses by  FriendofCarlotta  (E, 29k) things i knew when i was young by stormwarnings  (T, 16k) Alright  by  turningthepages  (T, 46k) To Build a Home by intothesilentland  (M, 383k) When In Vegas  by  Dmsilvis, TobytheWise (E, 16k) The Ocean Between Us  by  noxsoulmate  (E, 27k) Room for Two (The Mattress AU) by  almaasi  (E, 14k) Honey-Baked  by  mishaminion69, sydkn3e (E,  89k) The Ones We Choose  by  lightmyway  (E, 82k)

EDIT: MORE:

Recs by bexfangirlforlife:

The Graveyard Shift by riseofthefallenone. PurgatoryJar Evangelist by embrancsxx0 Stay with me Sweetheart by Mandalarose We are what we pretend we are by tricia_16 Tricks of the Trade by Trenchcoat_Impala

Recs by impaledbeetle:

okay, cupid by orange_crushed Seek to Know You Better (E) by ahurston Après (E) by Imogenbynight Here's a couple aus that i really really enjoy that aren't necessarily best friends to lovers: spirit of the west (M) by teen_dean Parachutes (E) by chaoticdean (this one literally changed my life it is so good) And This, Your Living Kiss (M) by opal_bullets (again, this is life changing) Roll With It (E) by saltnhalo (this is a The Proposal (movie) au) Shut Up (Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is) (E) by kototyph

Recs by butch--dean:

spirit of the west by teen-dean (everyone should read this 90's horse girl dean au where he befriends cas, a local veterinarian) I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart) by unicornpoe (I am a sucker for all "cas using dean as a vessel" fics) Après by imogenbynight (surely everyone has read this? dean and cas in paris what more can you ask for) under the midnight sun by northernsparrow (dean is the caretaker of a research station in the arctic and cas is a mysterious bird researcher) (I also rec you can keep holding on by this author but be warned that it is very grief-driven - but it is an in-depth study of the way they care for each other) though the course may change by imogenbynight (fake dating AU at a couple's retreat - another one that everyone has probably read but is so worth mentioning in case you haven't) there's no cell service in the afterlife by screamsintothesun (cas gets back from the empty and his phone blows up with dean's voicemails & texts) Gold in the Edges of Our Vision by SewingNatural (dean and cas eat peaches together on a hot summer evening. The writing style on this one is really really lovely) these are just a few from my bookmarks but also there is a really good rec list here & here (this one has a link to a specific friends to lovers list here) that I refer to often when looking for new fics/authors to dig through!!

Recs by mercurialkitty for some reason tumblr won't allow me to add them to my post so just click on their name to go to their post!

These are all the ones i've gotten up til now but will def edit if I get any more. If you see this post and think of a Destiel AU best friend to lovers fic that isn't on here or just a Destiel AU (no abo) fic that isn't on here: PLEASEEEEEE GIVE ME ALL THE DESTIEL AU FIC RECS (no abo)

Also i didn't tag the people who recommended it cuz I don't wanna annoy them but I linked back to all of their original posts or comments!

A hugeeeeeeee thank you to everyone who replied to my annoying messages for fic recs cuz I really really appreciate it. thank you all so so so much!!!!

#to read #destiel #i love my husbands #spn #supernatural #destiel fan fic #spn fan fics

[spinallyspiraling]

In truth, the kingdom of heaven is within man far more completely than he realizes; and as heaven is in his own nature, so earth and hell are also in his constitution, for the superior worlds circumscribe and include the inferior, and earth and hell are included within the nature of heaven. As Pythagoras would say; "The superior and inferior worlds are included within the area of the Supreme Sphere." So all the kingdoms of earthly nature, the minerals, the planes, the animals, and his own human spirit are included within his physical body, and he himself is the appointed guardian spirit of the mineral kingdom and he is responsible co the creative hierarchs for the destiny of the scones and metals." ~ Manly P. Hall, Melchizedek and the Mystery of Fire

Jacob's Ladder / 33 segments of the Spinal Column, 33 Degrees of Freemasonry, 33 years the life of Christ.

The Physiological, anatomical, Chemical nature of Man and his spirituality. The microcosm within the macrocosm. To understand the huge and lovely Universe and all its secrets, all you need to understand is the mini-Youniverse. Your body, and its Spiritual secrets, encoded in the Bible, described in the Vedas and most of the other sacred books. The agenda though, of each institution which gives you this same ancient wisdom, is different for each.

You ascend the 33 steps one by one. One (ARC) degree at a time. At the top, the (33rd degree) you reach the domed temple of initiation. This is like the Kundalini energy rising up through the 7 energy chakra-vortexes (Menorah) in your spine.

[shadowtriovibes]

break a sweat: prologue

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Chapter Rating: G [Fic Rating: E]

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: Sebastian Sallow was seven years old the first time he rode a broom.

i'm officially launching my rewrite of the "break a sweat" series as a multichapter fic! please enjoy this new prologue, which sees sebastian receive his first broom.

AO3 permalink: break a sweat

November 7, 1881

Sebastian Sallow was seven years old the first time he rode a broom.

He awoke on the morning of his birthday as he did most days, tucked inside the cozy warmth of the Sallow family’s coastal cottage.

November had arrived in the Highlands, which surely meant that winter was just around the corner. But that morning, the sun shone brightly over the rocky shoreline and the powerful gusts of wind with which Sebastian had become intimately familiar seemed to be holding themselves back.

It was almost as if the wind itself knew that this day was special – that one young boy would soon be meeting one of the greatest loves of his life: flight.

—

Albert and Margeret Sallow had left London with their young children in 1877. The family settled near the Firth of Forth in Ivanbreck, a small wizarding hamlet just outside the Muggle town of Gullane and not more than thirty kilometers from Edinburgh.

Four years later, the children had grown into curious, restless young things whose minds seemed to wander past the walls of their family home and out across the hills and valleys that lined the winding road toward Hogwarts.

Still without their own magic, the twins spent most of their days at their mother’s knee reading books well beyond their years about the study of magic. Sebastian and Anne were both desperate to start school, much to their parents’ bittersweet delight.

When Sebastian blinked awake the morning of this seventh birthday, the first thing he thought to himself was Only four more birthdays until Hogwarts.

Sebastian and Anne tumbled downstairs like a pair of drunken nifflers, slipping and sliding in their thick woolen socks toward the kitchen, where the smell of rich breakfast foods called them in like a siren’s song.

“Mummy!” Anne called out happily, skidding into her mother’s open arms. “It’s our birthday!”

Sebastian nearly collided with the dining table, only to be spared when his father snagged him by the sleeve of his pajamas and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Happy birthday, son,” Albert murmured into his sleep-mussed hair.

Then his mother hugged him as well, pressing seven kisses to each of Sebastian’s cheeks while he giggled delightedly.

“You two are getting so big,” Margeret crooned. “Seven years old, I can hardly believe it!”

“Go on, Maggie, let the boy breathe,” Albert laughed.

His mother had prepared a special breakfast with all the family’s favorites: thick-sliced bacon, oat porridge, juicy sausages, toasted oat bread, and, perhaps most importantly to Sebastian, a basket full of warm tattie scones.

“Make sure you have plenty to eat,” Albert said, winking across the table at his wife. “You’ll be needing your energy this afternoon.”

Sebastian squirmed with excitement throughout the meal as he wondered what his parents had in store for him and his sister. Birthdays were sacred to the Sallow family, and he’d never had one that was anything less than spectacular. (Of course, he could only remember a handful of birthdays at such a tender age).

Would they be going into the city to see the Muggle museum? Or perhaps Diagon Alley to get some new books… Maybe, he thought, just maybe they’ll get to see Hogwarts.

But instead of instructing the twins to get dressed and put on their traveling cloaks, Albert and Margeret simply took their children’s hands and guided them to the sitting room.

Resting on the low table by the fireplace were two long, thin packages wrapped in brown parcel paper and tied up with string. Each package had a small tag hanging from the narrower end: one marked with an S and the other with an A.

Sebastian felt his fingertips start to tingle as he tiptoed toward the table. Is this magic? he wondered to himself. Is it happening now?

“Go on, sweetheart,” Margeret whispered to Anne, who clung tightly to her skirts. “That one’s for you, do you see the ‘A’ on it?”

While Anne gingerly untied the wrapping strings and rolled back the paper, Sebastian eagerly tore into his gift with no thought of preserving its wrappings.

Inside was a riding broom. Shorter than a standard model from the sporting goods shop on the high street, this broom was evidently made for children who had yet to receive their magic. It had shiny metal footrests at the bottom and handles at the top with leather grips. Etched into the top of the broom handle were the words Oakshaft ‘81 – Junior.

Sebastian’s fingers trembled as he stroked his fingers down the length of the polished handle. He could have sworn he saw a handful of sparks flicker from his hands as he lifted the broom, but as soon as he noticed them they dissipated into thin air.

“What do you think, my boy?” Albert asked him proudly.

Sebastian hardly knew what to think. Brooms like this didn’t come cheap, much less two. His parents had always seemed comfortable as young professors, studying magical theory and offering instruction to a handful of local wizarding families with homeschooled children. But a gift like this…

“Thank you,” Sebastian whispered, blinking back tears. “I love it, thank you.”

With a proud smile, Albert scooped up a teary-eyed Anne and asked, “What do you think? Should we take them out for a spin?”

The rest of the afternoon, Margeret watched from the ground with a book in her lap, watching with equal parts maternal joy and anxious fear as Albert circled the twins on his dependable Smethwyck Spinner from the 1870s. To begin, he taught Sebastian and Anne how to kick off from the ground and ascend into the air.

“That’s it!” Albert roared as Sebastian floated fifty feet into the air and spun in a wobbly circle. “Excellent work, Sebastian!”

Anne took a bit more coaching to eventually lift her feet off the ground, but by the time she was giggling nervously and taking slow laps around the cottage, Sebastian had discovered the aerodynamics of forward flight.

“Not too fast, darling!” Margeret called out from below. “Oh, please do be careful…”

Sebastian didn’t touch the ground again for hours. By the time he eventually landed, panting and windswept and deliriously happy, it was nearly time for dinner.

“I take it you like your gift, hmm?” Albert asked with a knowing grin as he helped Sebastian store his broom in the small shed behind the house.

“I love it!” Sebastian exclaimed. “I’m gonna fly every day, and I’m going to be so good – maybe I’ll even play Quidditch!”

“Maybe you will,” Albert said indulgently.

“Dad, did you play Quidditch while you were in school?” he asked curiously.

Albert shook his head. “No, I wasn’t very good back then. I suppose I’m a fair flyer now, but the rest of it – the athleticism – that wasn’t for me. Nearly always had my nose buried in a book back then.”

“You still do!” Sebastian pointed out, and Albert laughed, tossing his head back.

“Aye, I do,” he agreed. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I suppose. But if Quidditch makes you happy, you ought to go after it. There are plenty of things you can’t learn in books, after all.”

—

Sebastian and Anne were orphaned in the spring of 1882. In the end, Sebastian learned that perhaps there was a downside to having your nose buried in a book all day.

Feldcroft was a smaller hamlet than Ivanbreck. Uncle Solomon was less patient than Albert and Margeret, and he hardly had any books in his rather unadorned cottage.

…Sebastian didn’t want to be a professor anymore.

But he still had his broom.

By the time his eighth birthday arrived, Sebastian had already decided that he’d do whatever it took to be the best damn Quidditch player Hogwarts has ever seen.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian x you #sebastian x mc #quidditch!seb #quidditch fic #my fic #break a sweat

[heyjude19-writing]

hello!

I'm the anon that asked this Q: https://www.tumblr.com/heyjude19-writing/738695824048095232/i-really-enjoyed-that-u-made-a-drarry-starter?source=share And am never more grateful that you made this. Thank you.

Is there a way we can look forward to taking u up on the tag, "dozens" of other fic recs to extend the reading guide even more? I love the way you choose fics. They speak to my soul! Thank you.

hello anon!

Ask and you shall receive:

The Healer's Guide to Transfiguration The Gala Variations on Intimacy Sweeter the Second Time Around Amateur Cartography On the Perils of Free Advice Little Bites Operation Get Draco Laid Legacy of Fred Weasley I’m Never Lonely When I’m With You Bond Tango Hot for Teacher A Darker Blue Love in Other Places Scone Strategies Signed and Sealed Courting Customs Most Sacred Thirteenth Night The Art of Seating Etiquette Universal Truths I Am Jack’s Broken Heart Merry Dépaysement 

#dramione #dramione fic rec list

[phdmama]

On a Wednesday, In a Café

(For @phoebe-delia who puts up with me and lets me pop in to ask things like WHO INSULTED TAYLOR SWIFT’S SENSE OF HUMOR?? This is just a tiny little vignette inspired by Start Again. I think this also fits for @drarrymicrofic and the prompt “hope” - in a way.)

The café is weirdly busy for a Wednesday morning. 

Draco is moderately disgruntled. He’s used to having the place to himself — his Wednesday mornings are sacred. It’s the one day of the week he can sleep in, as he doesn’t have to be at work until after lunch, and he loves coming to this small, cosy coffee shop. He always gets the same thing, the largest café au lait they serve with two shots of vanilla and whatever savoury scone they’re baking that day, and he always sits in the same place, one of the big comfy overstuffed armchairs in the corner by the fireplace. He reads whatever journal he’s brought along and he eats his scone and he drinks his coffee and it’s just. Really nice. That’s all. 

Okay, at least today, no one is in the other armchair, so when Draco sits down and pulls out his journal, maybe it’s a little louder than usual, but things are still fine in his world. He’s managed to tune out the sounds of the people around him, reduced them to background white noise as he reads up on the latest innovations in cauldron technology (spoiler alert: InstantCauldron™ is a misnomer because it does not, in fact, do all the prep work for you even if it does brew in less than half the time a standard cauldron takes, so there’s really nothing Instant about it, not that Draco is bitter). In any case, he’s focused on what he’s reading which is why at first he doesn’t really register the words that he’s hearing.

“Did you hear about…”

“I read that…”

“Did you know he…”

And Draco doesn’t even have to look up to know what’s happened.

Potter is here.

Draco slowly lowers the journal to his lap and learns that he is, in fact correct. Standing at the counter in a pair of ratty jeans and a giant hoodie is one Harry James Potter. His hair is ridiculous and his trainers have seen far, far better days, but he is, as always, infuriatingly handsome.

Except for the tension that Draco can read clearly in his shoulders, the way his eyebrows furrow in a frown, and the way he’s glaring suspiciously at the cashier. He has his reasons, Draco knows.

Late last year, some eight months ago now, Potter had come home from a mission to find his live-in lover in bed with not one, but two young men. Not just any young men, it turned out, but two young men who were high on the Ministry’s Most Wanted List.  Potter had arrested them all on the spot (Draco has to give him credit for a cool head under what had to have been rather stressful conditions). When the now-ex was out on bail, the first thing he’d done was go to the press and air all of Potter’s… Well, not dirty laundry exactly. None of what Potter gets up to in his own bed chamber is particularly sordid or shocking (some of it sounds like great fun, actually) but it is, well, private. 

And privacy is a luxury Harry James Potter has had very little of. 

Potter accepts his drink, and turns around, eyes scanning the room as if searching for the knife he knows is aimed at his back, but then he catches sight of Draco and something very strange happens.

Potter’s shoulders drop, the lines in his forehead smooth out, and then, shockingly, he smiles.

Draco blinks in confusion but no, his eyes are not deceiving him. Potter is raising his cup to his lips and taking a sip, never breaking eye contact, and then, after he swallows, that smile still playing about his beautiful lips, he starts walking toward Draco.

“Anyone sitting here?” His voice is low as he nods towards the empty chair next to Draco and for a moment, all Draco can do is stare at him, dumbfounded.

“Malfoy?” Potter prompts and Draco shakes his head.

“Oh, sorry. No. No one’s sitting there,” and to Draco’s deep astonishment, Potter sits down.

Potter leans back, cross one leg over his threadbare knee, and takes another sip.

“So,” he says, “how have you been?”

#my writing #drarry vignette #drarry microfic #just a beginning #gentle reminder #I prefer people talk to me before finishing or continuing my little vignettes #THANK YOU FOR UNDERSTANDING!!! #xox

[deadpanwalking]

A Cooking Egg by T.S. Eliot

En l'an trentiesme de mon aage Que toutes mes hontes j'ay beues …

Pipit sate upright in her chair Some distance from where I was sitting; Views of the Oxford Colleges Lay on the table, with the knitting.

Daguerreotypes and silhouettes, Her grandfather and great great aunts, Supported on the mantelpiece An Invitation to the Dance. . . . . . I shall not want Honour in Heaven For I shall meet Sir Philip Sidney And have talk with Coriolanus And other heroes of that kidney.

I shall not want Capital in Heaven For I shall meet Sir Alfred Mond: We two shall lie together, lapt In a five per cent Exchequer Bond.

I shall not want Society in Heaven, Lucretia Borgia shall be my Bride; Her anecdotes will be more amusing Than Pipit's experience could provide.

I shall not want Pipit in Heaven: Madame Blavatsky will instruct me In the Seven Sacred Trances; Piccarda de Donati will conduct me …

But where is the penny world I bought To eat with Pipit behind the screen? The red-eyed scavengers are creeping From Kentish Town and Golder's Green;

Where are the eagles and the trumpets?

Buried beneath some snow-deep Alps. Over buttered scones and crumpets Weeping, weeping multitudes Droop in a hundred A.B.C.'s

#i linked to the annotations in the title #this poem is in the same collection as prufrock but isn’t as well known #it's a shame because i could talk about it for hours #once you've read and explicated it within a framework of literary & historical & biographical context you can have fun interpreting it #sometimes i'll read it with trans goggles on #works like syncing dark side of the moon to the wizard of oz #it's not just about the title--the narrator is somebody who is indefinitely postponing transition. the inanity of hatching into a dull bird #he is assuring himself that when he dies none of it will matter. he won't feel ugly or lonely or bored or stupid #but the dismissal of pipit and her simplicity pivots into the bittersweet realization that he's given her up for nothing. #that he was happiest before he came to think of her as vulgar & resented himself for wanting her #the world will end all the same and all he'll ever have is joylessness and the absence of pipit #t.s. eliot #poetry #i read much of the night and go south in the winter

[scotianostra]

May 10 1307 saw The Battle of Loudon Hill, near Darvel.

Ask any bairn, or even adult, what Robert the Bruce’s most important military victory was, and they will, of course, answer the Battle of Bannockburn. This battle was his most impressive and one of the most significant battles in that it finally drove the English from Scotland and opened the north of England to Scottish raids which would eventually culminate, in 1328, to England accepting Scottish sovereignty. However, Bruce’s most important victory, arguably, was at the Battle of Loudoun Hill in Ayrshire. This was the Bruce’s first major victory and the turning point in his fortunes, it is by no coincidence that David Mackenzie chos Loudon Hill for the main battle and climax in last years, Outlaw King. Bruce’s army, mainly on foot, were outnumbered perhaps by as much as six to one, by a force mainly consisting of cavalry.

In 1306, Robert the Bruce began to make moves against Edward. He murdered John ‘the Red’ Comyn , his main rival for the crown of Scotland within sacred ground in the Greyfriars Kirk, Dumfries. He immediately moved to have himself inaugurated as King of Scots at Scone in March 1306. An enraged Edward declared that no quarter would be given to Bruce or to those who supported him and dispatched Sir Aymer de Valence, the Earl of Pembroke with an army to deal with Bruce’s rebellion.

Aymer de Valence had experience against the Scots, but mixed fortunes, beaten soundly at what has been described as a skirmish at Blackearnside in Fife, against Wallace, he returned to fight The Bruce in 1306 at Methven and was victorious, so must have been super confident coming up against the Scottish King, the English King labelled an Outlaw. He was also the brother in law of the murdered John Comyn, so it was a wee bit personal.

Bruce also lost a battle shortly after Methven against fellow Scots, The MacDougalls, who were also related to Comyn, after this he retreated to lick his wounds, and supposedly watch a spider refuse to give up when having trouble spinning a web, giving him the inspiration and the story behind the phrase, if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.

Bruce returned to the fray in early 1307 at Turnberry. He now switched to using guerrilla tactics; they had worked for William Wallace before the disaster at Falkirk, the first action was ambushing the English at Glentrool in April before meeting the enemy in pitched battle at Loudoun Hill.

Bruce had learned his lesson from his defeat at Methven. There he had been unprepared and ambushed after taking Valence at his word. Bruce had been prepared to observe the gentlemanly conventions of feudal warfare and invited Valence to leave the walls of Perth and join Bruce in battle. Valence declined and the king, perhaps naively believing that the refusal was a sign of weakness, retired only a few miles, to nearby Methven where he made camp for the night. Before dawn on 19th June 1306, Bruce’s army was taken by surprise and almost destroyed.

The lesson had been learned. Chivalry was dead.

Nearly one year later, Robert the Bruce and Aymer de Valence would again face one another. The outcome would be very different. Valence challenged Bruce to fight after the Scot’s success at Glen Trool. Bruce accepted the challenge and the battle was fought on the plains under Loudoun Hill on 10th May 1307.

Bruce took the opportunity of the challenge to prepare his ground, cutting three ditches inward from the edge of the bogs, leaving 90 metre gaps in the centre which were to be guarded by dismounted pikemen, while soil embankments with ditches protected the flanks. This forced the English to approach through the narrow front created by their opponents, restricting their movements and deployment capabilities effectively neutralising their numerical advantage. It was reminiscent of William Wallace’s great victory at the Battle of Stirling Bridge, with the same filtering effect at work.

King Robert gathered his small force of 500 to 600 men and awaited the approach of Valence’s 3,000 strong army. The English force was split into two squadrons as they advanced on the smaller army. The Scots used their spears to great effect against both men and horses, leaving many dead and wounded. The English assault began to collapse. The Scots seeing their enemy begin to falter, charged their opponents who broke and fled the field. However, the Scottish army would have been unable to chase down their routing opponents for long due to them being on foot and not horseback.

None of the sources for the battle provide any indication of the losses suffered by either force, but we can safely assume that the number of casualties would have been lower than other medieval battlefields due to the lack of any meaningful pursuit of the routed English army. Wiki merely says Scots losses were low, and English “in the hundreds” The numbers are unimportant, it drew a line in the sand Scotland and King Robert was ready to take on the might of their English neighbours.

Edward decided to head North himself and sort out “those troublesome Scots” but at 68 he was an old man by medieval standards, and a bout of dysentery that a younger man may have fought and won put an end to him, he died within sight of Scotland at Burgh-by-Sands, near Carlisle. The invasion fizzled out.

The Bruce spent the next 7 years taking castle after castle and laying them to waste so they could no longer garrison enemy troops, until by 1314 all that was left was Stirling Castle, and then there was the battle I spoke about at the start of the post, our greatest victory against The English perhaps, but really the Battle of Loudon Hill showed the Auld Enemy “Nemo me impune lacessit” ‘Wha daur meddle wi’ me"

The photos are my own from the Commemorations I have attended there, the structure you see is called Spirit of Scotland and actually represents William Wallace, the 5 meter high frame with Sir William cut out in the middle. The event is hosted every year by The Society of William Wallace.

#scotland #scottish #the first war of scottish independence #robert the bruce #battle #medieval warfare #medieval history #history

[fluttereyes]

Scottish Halloween

Stuff you may or may not want to know.

Did you know that Halloween originated in Ireland and came across to Scotland very early on? It is, of course, named for the shortened All Hallows Eve, and was originally the festival of Samhain where the veil between worlds was lifted and spirits could roam the mortal realm.

How do we do Halloween in Scotland?

Well Trick or Treat is a new thing brought to the world from American movies and TV shows but long before that and still for many in Scotland we have our own traditions. Trick or Treat is known as 'guising' (disGuising), where we dress up and go around the neighbours doors looking for sweets or other Halloween goodies. Most often it was fruit and nuts we were given, not sweets. The art of guising is to confuse spirits and allow children to 'blend in'. The poem we recited on a door being opened was "The Sky is blue, the grass is green, anything for my Halloween" At this we were instructed to work for our goodies, we had to sing, dance, tell a joke or say a poem, so rather than evil tricks for sweets we entertained for them. If we knew the neighbours well or if it was family we could go inside where they would have apples bobbing in a bucket and you could 'dook' for an apple, hands behind backs. This is a reference to the Druids seeing apples as sacred. More often than not they had strings with bread hanging from them covered in treacle and you were to take a bite (hands behind your back), obviously you were in a terrible state by the time you got home, (it's supposed to be scones but I was raised in a poor area). We carved turnips (neeps) and never pumpkins, which are easy, turnips are extremely difficult to carve, neep lanterns are also known as 'tattie bogles'.

You can throw a nut on the bonfire and if it quietly fizzles you will have a relaxed life, if it pops and cracks you need to change something in your life.

Hanging scissors on the back of your door can keep out evil spirits. Quite often bonfires are lit to keep the spirits away or the fire of a candle inside a neep lantern. Some in Scotland and Ireland still celebrate actual Samhain.

In the 1700's the eating of pork was banned under the witchcraft laws, so often people serve up sausage rolls or other pork pastries, I think it was around the 1950's before the law was repealed.

Just some rubbish to fill your brain with from an old Scottish woman.

[ancientorigins]

Following centuries of tradition, King Charles III will be crowned in Westminster Abbey on the Stone of Scone, a sacred stone used to validate inauguration of kings and queens for over a millennium. But it is not without controversy, and even the stone’s true origins are doubted.

#Stone of Scone #royalty #King Charles III #England #Scotland

[these-detestable-hands]

So

What do you think

YES GOOD AND REAL AND TRUE THANK YOU CRAB

#Gold star for you! #Crabknee #Rgb fire emblem #Sacred scones #Bean dni

[docholligay]

Do you have a dish or recipe you're very traditional about? Like "it was good 200 years ago, it's good now, no notes"

OHHHHH man. This question is actually harder to answer than you'd think!

Because CONCEPTUALLY, no. I am a person who believes in, mostly, culinary boundaries being pushed, being fucked around with. I am not one of those people who believes that for something to be adapted is to be inferior or fake--I think American Chinese food, Tex-Mex, and British Indian food are all FUCKING BANGERS, they just happen to be different from what I'm going to call their "source cuisines" (I am not even going to go into how saying they aren't 'real X food' erases the efforts of immigrants in a different country, and also ends up flattening, in the above examples, EXTREMELY fucking diverse countries. Like I am not super up on China or India in a culinary sense, only in a passing one, but I do in fact know quite a bit about Mexico and uh there are absolutely places in Mexico that use dairy jesus fucking christ) but they are heroes in their own right.

I also think that tweaking something comes from a place of interest, usually, and desire to make something interesting, or to make something work, or to push your neighbors and family. So, like, I know everyone lost their minds about GBB's smores incident, but, even as a protector of the idea that American Culinary Traditions are Valuable, I think it's really annoyingly precious to be like "A digestive is nothing like a graham cracker" oh ffs shut up I have told people in the Uk to sub in digestives a zillion fucking times they are like 2% different you are being a fucking weirdo. (In the same way the internet LOSES IT when I say most scones are essentially US cream biscuits, but if I put them both on a plate and said "One of these is a scone recipe and one is a cream biscuit" most people couldn't do better than 50/50 quit being stupid who do you think BROUGHT IT OVER HERE)

So, again: Conceptually I do not necessarily believe in culinary sacred cows.

CONCEPTUALLY.

In the real world, in which I am forced to square with my belief structure and its consequences, I was once served an Old Fashioned in Scotland with SELTZER WATER in it, and despite Glasgow being King of the Scottish Mainland I GASPED AUDIBLY but the woman at my hotel (that I highly recommend to anyone staying in Glasgow, which I actually preferred to Edinburgh) was so kind and sweet and delivered it to my room so I DRANK IT, and I have since discovered that there are some people who actually think this is a correct way to make an Old Fashioned and unless you are using the rotgut they made in the South during prohibition you have no business and no right and I hope you know you are unraveling the fabric of society.

[firewoodfigs]

27 looks like flowers and takeout. Dandelions springing in familiar fields, seeds floating without aim. Disillusionment. Slow breakfasts. Disgruntled cats, expression mirroring our own. Indolent strolls down the River Seine, and then anxious walks around the same old insipid backyard. Suburban dreams. Capitalism. A bank account that’s finally, finally no longer in deficit. Random, ill-timed bouts of flu, each one worse than the other. The occasional indulgence—a trinket on flash sale, pretty crockery. Scones and berries. Dining and imbibing, and then balancing it with leftovers for the rest of the week. Merlot, and whiskey shots. Taylor Swift. Old friends gathering around new hangouts. Estranged relatives. Expectant, selfish ones, too, making the same appearances and demands. Dents in memory, and capital. Debt and bills and taxes. Farces and new faces. Eclipses, eclipsing fretful worries of yesterdays. A pink, wintry sun illuminating flights of stairs leading up to a sacred heart. Heaven, maybe. Squalls beating down highways, and castle and spires shrouded in mist and fog. And a promise of forever and beyond.

#i chose this cyclone with you 🫶🏻

[ivelovedhimthroughworse]

WIP Wednesday - The End of an Age!

Good morning and thank you for the early (or late night) tags: @cutestkilla @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @confused-bi-queer @facewithoutheart @artsyunderstudy @johnwgrey @wellbelesbian and @urban-sith.

I think that this will be the last WIP that I post of this piece. Soon I'll just be adding background shadows and maybe a carpet (to tie the room together). It'll be time consuming, but not too exciting for progression.

So enjoy this last sneak peak and I'll see you on the posting day for Carry On Through the Ages. Research and tags are below the cut.

I've labelled this as Victorian, but that's a long time period with a lot of changing fashions. If you're curious, I'm trying to stay within the decade of the 1860's.

Finding hair options for Simon was entertaining. The one I picked is forty years out of fashion and French (!) but Sacre Bleu, how could I resist?

Most men had some kind of facial hair in the 1860's. I didn't want to give Simon a moustache (like the Mage) so he's getting a set of wispy chops. The clean-shaven look for men came back in vogue in the 1880-1890's.

Baz avoids this by being part of the Aesthetic Movement. He's challenging the mainstream Victorian belief that beards are an essential symbol of manliness. Long hair, languid manner and velvet jacket were widely recognized as male components of Aesthetic dress

Wishing you all a glorious hair day:

@angelsfalling16 @aristocratic-otter @asticou @basiltonbutliketheherb @bazzybelle @bookish-bogwitch @captain-aralias @creepyspice @confused-bi-queer @early-sxnsets @excalisbury @fatalfangirl @fight-surrender @foolofabookwyrm-activated @frjstii @gekkoinapeartree @henreyettah @ileadacharmedlife @ic3-que3n (thanks for the solo vote for hairstyle #2) @ionlydrinkhotwater @jbrrring @krisrix @letraspal @martsonmars @nick-eyre @onepintobean @otherworldsivelivedin @palimpsessed @penpanoply @prettylightsbigcity @scone-lover @shemakesmeforget @starwarned @stardustasincocaine @stillmadaboutpetra @subparselkie @takitalks @tea-brigade @technetiumai @thehoneyedhufflepuff @whatevertheweather @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

#wip wednesday #carry on through the ages #cotta 2022 #simon snow #baz pitch #simon's curly hair would've been considered attractive #lots of victorian men sporting curls #his freckles though would've been seen as a poor complexion

[madame-blueberry]

Sentence Starters but they're things we've said to each other - Part One

"You’re actually studying, you fucking idiot."

"It’s just that the bad stuff was REALLY bad."

"Yes… college rage."

"President of the world wide skeptic society, sorry."

"He could be calming if he wasn’t, you know, like that."

"This feels kinda heavy for a silly little story about magicians."

"Maybe it’s a serious little story, ever consider that?"

"The bond between two bros is sacred."

"Swamp gas?? In a LAKE?"

"This whole thing feels like glee (derogatory)."

"I spent the whole time chanting “dump him, dump him!” alone in my room with my stuffed animals. "

"My son is serving in his depression."

"Nothing suspicious :)"

"Not enough men in the Theater Department."

"If you have to apologize, you should not be sorry."

"I noticed last week that they’d wiped the whole account again."

"You keep getting kidnapped."

"If siblings aren’t like Jimmy and Jerry are you even siblings?"

"I’m a Boyz historian."

"Ah, Jumanji booze."

"There’s the fucker who was lingering earlier."

"Okay, I love the song! But I’m about to lose contact."

"Okay, I lost my fucking phone for a sec ."

"I’m not going to remember a bit of this when I’m sober."

"Weird of Bob to gaslight us like that."

"I can’t stop looking at Larry’s caving in head."

"I walked away and was like, that was Petunia."

"Scones???"

"I’m sorry, did you say he fucking DIED?"

"There was an OPEN CASKET photo on his BLOG."

"Thought this was my notes app, not my texts."

#prompt #sentence starter #feel free to send to any and all of my characters #and i'll get to them tomorrow or whenever i'm on next #i'll als reblog later w all my ask links lmao