#hey Scottish followers and mutuals!

[bekahcathcart]

Should Drug Consumption Rooms (DCRs) be Legalised in Scotland?

(TW: Drug Mention)

Hi everyone, I am currently completing my master's in Public Policy and was hoping to ask anyone who is Scottish or a resident (lived here for 3+ years) to fill out my 3-question survey on the introduction of Drug Consumption Rooms in Scotland. Currently struggling for numbers so would so appreciate it! No prior knowledge is needed and shouldn't take more than 5 mins. Please feel free to share with friends/family, the more the merrier - Thank you so much!

#scotland #scottish #edinburgh #glasgow #health policy #survey #research #education #lse #london school of economics #signal boost #hey Scottish followers and mutuals! #tw drugs mention #uk politics #drugs #cw: drugs #dissertation

[romanticgremlin]

Broken Bones, Pistols And Lonely Hearts

Summary: Sebastian tries to find his way home after celebrating his birthday and ends up in some hot water. An unexpected savior steps in and ends up saving him in more ways than one.

(Sebastian X Female Muggle OC)

A large hand claps Sebastian on the shoulder, the fingers of said hand give a squeeze as a friendly grin splays on his blind friend's lips.

“Happy Birthday, my friend.” The blind Slytherin heir says jovially. 

“I still can't believe you gifted me a bloody flat.” He slur slightly. 

Soft laughter comes from the girl of their strange trio.

“Do you need help getting back?” MC says and his voice is suddenly in his throat at how kind she sounds. A part of him wants to look away or scream when Ominis’s hand leaves his shoulder to slide around the girls waist. 

He is desperately trying to remind himself that he is just lonely and irregardless of their once possible mutual attraction during their Hogwarts days, she has always deserved someone better than him. Ominis and her were made for each other.

Still, he swallows thickly and drunkenly forces his gaze from the ring on her right hand that matches the one on Ominis's hand before up to her face. He plasters a genuine smile across his face before he speaks.

“I know the way. You two newlyweds best be getting back. Got things to do, I imagine. Heirs to conceive and what not.” He says with a sloppy wink, causing both of his companions to turn scarlet. 

They bid their goodbyes to each other, and his two best friends disapparate.

He plays with the key to his new flat they had gifted him here in London a couple weeks prior to his birthday and contemplates just going home to sleep the rest of his birthday away. But the thought of walking back to such an empty apartment keeps him firmly in his seat at the bar. 

Maybe another couple drinks first. It is his birthday after all.

 Its Anne's birthday too. 

Thoughts of his estranged twin begin to rise and follow him like his own personal poltergeist, clouding his every thought until later when he's almost blind drunk staggering through the streets of london.

He can't find his damn apartment.

 He's only been there for a week, and he's not familiar with anything.

Why does every goddamn street look the same? 

“Hey, you lost?” A chirpy male voice says. His vision is blurry slightly by the alcohol but he can see the outline of a man, a bit smaller than him.

“Aye. Lookin’ for-...bloody hell-...can't remember the-...the name.” Sebastian says, his scottish accent thickens and coats his tongue more than usual with the alcohol. 

“Ah, it's right over here, mate.” The shorter man takes his arm suddenly in an iron grip, pulling him down an alley before he can protest and remember that he didn't actually tell this man where he lived. 

Stupid. Careless. Immature. 

Should have- 

A fist cracks across his face so hard that he swears he can see stars for a moment. 

Maybe he deserves this.

Two other men emerge from somewhere. He’s fumbling for his wand when he remembers the requirements of his release from Azkaban. 

No unauthorized use of magic.

He curses loudly, and the nauseating taste of blood enters his mouth as it drips down his face from his nose. 

“Give us yer money and that fancy watch I seen you checkin earlier.” the shorter attacker sneers at him. 

He berates himself for relaxing too much. Not noticing them scoping him out earlier. He's not as accustomed to muggle brawling, much better with a wand, but he knows how to throw a punch. He knows enough. He tries to raise his fists in a protective manner. 

“Piss o-” He starts to say until he’s grabbed from behind. The alcohol works both to his advantage and disadvantage as he's able to pull from somewhere enough strength to rip the man from behind him and ram his fist into his face. 

He knows he can't win. He's not dull. 

Yet still he tries. MC once told him that his stubbornness wasn’t necessarily a bad trait and he’s never been prouder to agree with her as his knuckles split with another punch he manages to land in the chaos. Again the alcohol works to his advantage here, dulling the pain as he's thrown to the ground and kicked hard in the ribs. 

“Hey! Leave him alone.” A feminine voice shouts out over the sound of blows landing. He wonders briefly if he's hallucinating. One of the attackers steps to the left. The view of his savior no longer obscured. 

A blonde girl. She looked as if she might blow away in a strong wind, but here she was, strong and confident. Seemingly armed with nothing but her voice. 

Stupid, brave girl. 

His heart hurts at the thought, although he’s not sure why. 

He blinks several times to bring himself back from his disbelief and his adrenaline is still pumping. He takes advantage of their distraction to painfully kick the leg of one of the man closest to him.

He doesn't restrain any power from the kick and he hears a sickening crunch as the man's leg bends sideways. A sick feeling of joy pulls a smile onto his lips as he listens to the man wail in pain after he crumples to the ground. 

The feeling doesn't last long as he receives a swift retaliatory kick from behind him into what feels like his kidney. 

“I said stop!” the feminine voice insists again. 

“What you gonna do about it, girlie?" One of the men attacking Sebastian growls threateningly at the blonde girl.

He tries to get up, chuckling at his own drunken stupidity, he doesn’t want these losers threatening the blonde girl. The adrenaline pumping in him makes him stand up. He sways a little, but he’s determined to show himself as a gentleman. 

“She doesn’t need to do… anything… about it… I’ll deal with you lot.” His breathing is off for some reason and he struggles to speak as he stands. 

"That's sweet of you, but I assure you, I can handle myself." She says.

The sound of a pistol hammer being cocked echoes loudly in the alley. It pulls every face to her. 

Bloody hell.

His eyes widen a bit and he can barely believe what he’s hearing. He looks around the alley, and then back to the blonde, and he blinks trying to fix the blur in his vision and He stares at her in shock, his jaw hanging open. She’s holding a muggle pistol.

"Best get going boys, sod off." She says gesturing with the gun. 

He looks at the attackers, and then back to her. He can’t imagine why she would defend him, though he is grateful. 

“Alright, little lady. You’ve made your point.” The man says, sweating and backing up slowly, his gaze switching between myself and the blonde. 

“This one ain't got nothing worth anything anyways. ‘is watch is busted anyhow, nows that i’m seeing it.” he says. I grit my teeth, feeling pain shoot through me from the exhale I let out. The men grumble a bit before they all turn and run off frantically. 

He laughs a bit to himself,  his voice feels rough.

“Thank you.” he says, genuinely. He gives her what is probably a pathetic bloody (literally) smile and she lowers the gun with a long exhale. 

"You're hurt!" She says quickly making her way to him.

He laughs, and groans at the feel of the harsh action on his ribs.

“Yeah, I’ve taken a bit of a beating.” He chuckles, wincing again. 

The adrenaline rush that once dulled the pain is leaving him now and the pain is coming on strong, and he’s feeling lightheaded.

"Come on." She says and he grunts slightly as she slips her shoulder under his arm, supporting him. 

He’s quite taller than her, and he feels like a big dumb goof. She’s not really dainty or elegant, but she's not sturdy or tough looking either, and yet she saved him. He leans into her slightly as she guides him along with her. 

He's overwhelmed with her. Her skin Is soft and she smells like earl gray tea, strangely. Never something he would considered wanting to breathe in forever, but here he was, seriously considering it. 

He tries to remind himself that he's drunk and lonely and possibly injured in the head.

“There we go.” she encouages. He catches a glimpse of her eyes. They're grayish blue like a storm or the brackish water of the lake at Hogwarts. 

"Up these stairs here." She says softly smiling.

He chuckles at her pretty smile, and nods. He leans harder against her as they walk up the stairs, he feels the heat of her body against him. “M’sorry.” he slurs. 

"I'm Sarah." She says opening a door and helping him inside to what he quickly realizes is a kitchen as she slides him off her into a kitchen chair. 

She’s just-...and her hair smells… good, he feels a little dumb about it all as his mind slowly processes everything going on around him. 

Sarah, huh?

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy art #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #natsai onai #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #ominis gaunt #poppy sweeting #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #BrokenBonesPistolsAndLonelyHearts #SoundCloud

[amostdelectablescribbler]

I have been summoned

Like a shitty support character in a fighting game

by @tea-and-mercury

The

Get To Know My OC!

thingymajig

anyways, i was told not to forget the questions, so here we go. I’ll do an interview of the cast of Steel Horses and Hot Irons (wip intro in the pipeline) in a sort of group therapy style dealio. For the timeline, this is after the story has ended because before would be hard to orchestrate.

i shall invite to join me, my favourite felon @squarebracket-trick and a few mutuals, such as @macabremoons@stesierra@silverslipstream@leisoree@etherealatheling

Sooo. We ball.

(Start) I was sat, back fusing with my usual armchair, waiting with a mug of coffee and some files. The cat was lazing around, pondering whether or not he should move his fatness from one comfy beanbag to the other, comfier beanbag. The office was white-walled, with many a painting posted upon them. Basquiat, Kim Diaz Holm’s friendlier-looking works, one by Alan MacDonald, and a larger print of Domingo Zapata’s Mona Lisa, Queen of Hearts. These only served to create a friendlier, more comfortable atmosphere, in which people could just admire the art instead of being interviewed if they so chose. The moment I finished my coffee, a knock sounded from the door, almost metallic, preceding an impossibly massive man in equally massive armour poking a camo green, helmeted head around the door.

He spoke with a dense, deep and gravelly Russian accent, “Hello? Is this the right room? I was told number 42?” I nodded to him and gestured he came inside, which he struggled to do, due to the door being built for people in his size. His comrades followed in with him, 5 in all, of varying sizes.

“I didn’t think they made doors in my size here.” The massive man in the military juggernaut suit chortled through his helmet, holding the door for his comrades.

“I didn’t think they made you.” I replied, still taking in his vastness, he had to be at least 3 feet wide at the shoulder. This is a man who had to duck to get into my office, then shimmy through one huge limb at a time. The 5 of them started to make themselves comfortable, the fat cat had decided it liked the mountain of military gear, and had wobbled into his lap, sponging up the affection.

There was a not-so-huge-but-still-quite-big one in a kilt, who had a sword on his back, huge long dreadlocks and a girl in a black… -wetsuit? Looked like it, but probably wasn’t- glued to his side, trying to hide behind him, a black mask and long, glossy, jet-black hair over her face. The kilted one spoke with a Scottish accent, “Ach, don’ mind her, she’s just shy. She’ll warm up soon.” The girl couldn’t have been more than 5 feet tall, and built like a stiff breeze would carry her off, with ribs showing beneath the suit. The kilted one and the girl sat down next to the huge man, taking up all the space on the sofa i had brought in, which creaked as they all got comfy. The other two were snuggling up on some beanbags, a muscular woman with wide shoulders and strong arms, and a scrawnier, shorter man in motorbike leathers, instead of the military scavenges of the rest of the crew. “So, I’ve read the files I’ve been given about you by management, and I’m impressed. You’re quite famous. Still, the photos they gave don’t quite match the assorted helmets and masks I’m seeing, so, who am I talking to?” I extended a hand to be shaken by each.

“Rasputin Romanov. It’s a pleasure.” Rasputin, the huge one, shook my hand firmly, nearly breaking my wrist. The kilted one moved in next, “I’m Callum Henderson, she’s Becca,” he pointed to the girl in between him and Rasputin, “And those two lovebirds are Claudia and Sorren.” Sorren didn’t go for the handshake, instead opting for a casual fistbump. “Hey, howzit?” He had a high voice and an Auzzie accent. “Good, thank you. Now, I’m afraid I’m in the clock, so I’ll get the interview started:”

1 - Are you named after anyone?

Sorren: I’m technically Sorren Jr, but my dad’s dead, so I’m the last Sorren in my family. Anyone else? Nope? Just me.

2: When was the last time you cried?

Callum: Well, I don’t remember, really. It’s not the most recent, but I broke my leg when I was a wee lad falling off a tree. Cried a bit then. Claudia: Sorren once f-

Sorren: Shush up! She broke her pelvis about a year ago. Let’s not talk about how.

Rasputin: I don’t cry. I am Spetsnaz. I do not have time to cry.

Claudia: I punched you in the nuts last month. Cried then.

Rasputin (deflated): Like Sorren say, Shush.

3: Do you have kids?

Callum: We’re all a bit of an adoptive family for Becca, have been for a lil over a year and a half.

4: Do you use sarcasm?

Sorren (sarcastic): Who, me? Never. No. Not in my wildest dreams.

Claudia (whispering, cheeky): I’m in his wildest dreams.

Sorren: I said SHUSH!

5: What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Rasputin: Eyes. You meet someone, you look them in the eye. If there is light in there, you do not need to worry. Callum: Build. Big fella, little fella, what size of fella?

Claudia: How punchable their face is.

6: What colour are your eyes?

Rasputin (clanking his helmet): For me to know, and you to find out by taking the helmet off.

Callum: Used to have deuteranopia, but I lost one eye, so I don’t know if I have green or brown.

Claudia: Brown

Sorren: Blue

Callum (gesture to Becca): She doesn’t get out much, so we don’ often see her eyes. ‘Think they’re black?

7: Any special talents?

Claudia (enthusiastically): Punching

Sorren: Guns

Callum: Explosives

Rasputin (smug): I do like Sorren and Claudia together, but better.

8: Scary movies or happy endings?

All: Scary movies

9: Where were you born?

Callum: Ninwells hospital, Dundee.

Sorren: Fuckin’… Melbourne, mate, all the way.

Rasputin (far away): Vostok.

Claudia: Born in Busan, raised in San Diego.

10: What are your hobbies?

Claudia (smug): Punching Sorren.

Sorren: I used to race motorbikes, now I do stunt riding on the ‘Busa when i’m not being punched.

Rasputin (doing front double bicep pose): I workout.

Callum: Card tricks’ ‘bout all I got. ‘sides being a parent for Becca.

“And Becca?” I asked, trying and failing not to pry too much.

“She likes oil crayons.”

11: Do you have any pets?

Rasputin: I had a dog before the war. He came with me to Spetsnaz training. Tough dog. He was big Newfoundland. 70 kilos. I called him Medved. Translate to bear.

12: What sports do you play/have you played?

Callum: I was a rugby boy, in my school days.

Claudia: Boxing is my whole thing.

Sorren (cheeky): No shit. Ouch, okay, point made, but I’m still right.

Rasputin: I did wrestling and Judo before Spetsnaz. Did MMA in Spetsnaz. Now I can pick you up and kick you like a soccer ball.

Callum: It’s football, chunky.

Rasputin (indignant): I was taught Soccer ball.

13: How tall are you?

Callum: 6 foot 0, on the mark.

Sorren: 5’6

Claudia: 5’8, here

Callum: Becca’s just short. We don’t really know. Gonna eyeball it at 5 foot, tops.

Rasputin (chuffed): 6’6. 7’ in the suit

14: What was your favourite subject at school?

Callum: I don’t remember. I liked my chemistry teacher, but i hated chemistry.

15: What is your dream job?

Callum: I wanted to do movie effects, but i found a better job being a merc with my crew.

Sorren: I was livin’ the dream, ‘fore the war. I was a motoGP rider. Loved it.

-end-

fuck me this is a long one. Thank you for sticking around and reading all my bullshit [:

now, i did the tags already so have this instead:

Paddington’s cousin from New York. “Ey, boss, where you headed?”

#tag game #writeblr #creative writing #writers of tumblr #story

[le-sad-demiurge]

Anastasia is a questionable movie at best, but ykw making Rasputin the villain was a good choice, that dude was undoubtedly a warlock that sold his soul to Satan

#hey any russian followers or mutuals is the movie anastasia even in the russian pop cultural consciousness #if so what do russians think of it? #i ask because my scottish bf told me general scottish opinions on movies like braveheart and brave #apparently they generallu favor just for sake of representation

[dramioneasks]

Hey! Do you have any fics where Hermione goes back to living like a Muggle and avoids the Wizarding World after the war and bumps into Draco in the Muggle world please?

Five Days In November by cpetrienm - MA, 12 Chapters - Hermione and Draco serendipitously meet a few months after the war ends.  A recovering Hermione welcomes Draco into her life, recognizing his need for friendship and healing.  Draco seizes this second chance to prove to Hermione that he can be a better man.

Bar Elate By: KathrynElaineDarling - T, 24 chapters - Hermione's feelings had done exactly what she instructed them to do. Disappear. Now that it had ruined her relationship with Ron, she needed to leave and find out why she couldn't just be happy. Unexpectedly, she ran into someone in Paris that she never though she would see again.

Alias - LumosLyra - T, 11 chapters - Tired of being in the spotlight, Hermione Granger, makes the bold decision to abandon the wizarding world for the foreseeable future. She integrates herself back in the muggle world and enters into a budding romance with a doctor who happens to be none other than Draco Malfoy. What will happen when her best mates from school catch a sighting of her in a muggle newspaper?

Live like common people - blue_string_pudding - M, 22 chapters - Less than a year after the battle of Hogwarts Draco Malfoy disappeared.6 years later, Hermione finds him again in South London having completely abandoned the wizarding world. But he’s not the boy she remembers: Long hair and covered in tattoos, he appears to have developed a penchant for drugs and heavy metal music. And why on earth is he running a muggle bicycle shop?

By the Book - DarkoftheMoon - E, one-shot - After six months in Azkaban, six months living without magic, and six months probation, Draco Malfoy reveled in the quiet. For five years working in a small bookshop in the Scottish isles gave him purpose and the silence he craved. Until the bell above the door chimed, and Hermione Granger started to make noise.And maybe he liked the sounds she made.

Small Town Vignettes - CosmicCthulhu - T, one-shot - When Hermione moved into a small town in the English countryside, she was just thinking about hiding away for a little while. But then, three years later Draco Malfoy seemed to have the same idea as hers and suddenly they couldn’t ignore their memories of the war and their past lives any longer. Excerpt: They looked at each other with wide eyes and mouths agape. They had both paled considerably and for a second, they both looked like they were going to faint. “Oh, you know each other?” Hermione’s friend asked with a smile, absolutely oblivious to their mutual internal panic, and they were both too stunned to respond to the seemingly innocent question. “We met in… School,” Hermione managed to spell out, still staring at the man with an intense glare. “That’s crazy!” Amelia laughed loudly, leaning towards the man and patting his back in the friendly and just a tad overbearing manner she was known for amongst her friends. “Can’t believe we finally have the key to unlock Mia’s deepest secrets! I’m betting she’s killed someone!”

Turning Tides - In_Dreams - M, 9 chapters - Desperate for a change of pace following the end of the war, Hermione leaves London for a distant seaside town. There she stumbles upon Draco Malfoy, alone and seeking a fresh start. Written for Strictly Dramione’s Summer Lovin’ Fest 2018.

- Lisa

#anonymous #running away #meet again #muggle life #au

[snowonthebeachftlana]

February 2016

Feb 11th - Kanye debuts his song Famous at his Yeezy fashion show. It contains the infamous lyric, 'I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex / Why? I made that bitch famous.' Gigi Hadid and Austin Swift are quick to express their disapproval. (x)

Feb 12th - Taylor's publicist Tree Paine releases a statement saying "Kanye did not call for approval, but to ask Taylor to release his single 'Famous' on her Twitter account. She declined and cautioned him about releasing a song with such a strong misogynistic message. Taylor was never made aware of the actual lyric, "I made that bitch famous.’" (x)

Ruby Rose condemns Kanye, tweeting, 'Too many lines crossed. If I put myself in the shoes of the women he has hurt recently. Victims of Bill Cosby, the slut shaming, Amber… And now my dear friend Taylor.. Right before another huge moment for her.. Can I still support him and call myself a feminist? A friend? No.' (x)

Kanye claims on Twitter that Taylor thought the lyric was funny and that she came up with it herself. He also claimed Taylor told a mutual friend over dinner that, 'I can't be mad at Kanye because he made me famous!' (x)

Sometime in the days leading up to the Grammys - Taylor's 73 Questions with Vogue interview is filmed in LA (it is not published until April, soon after her Vogue cover is released). In the video, she says she is currently busy 'working out and getting ready for Grammys' (presumably referring to rehearsals since she was the opening performer that year). (Update: turns out the interview was filmed on the 2nd Feb.)

Some other answers she gave in this interview:

What are you completely bored of in life right now? Clickbait.

What's your favourite food? I mean, if we're just saying, like, what I wish I could eat every day if calories didn't count, is like, chicken tenders.

What's one thing you still have from your childhood? My insecurities.

What's something you've always wanted to try but you've been too scared to do? Coachella.

What advice would you give to anyone who wants to become a singer? Uh, get a good lawyer.

What's the one thing you wish you knew at nineteen? If I could talk to my nineteen-year-old self I'd just say, hey, you know, you're gonna date just like a normal twenty-something should be allowed to, but you're going to be a national lightning rod for slut-shaming.

What do you think is the most important life lesson for someone to learn? That karma is real.

Feb 15th - Taylor attends the 58th Annual Grammy Awards in LA. She opens the televised show with a performance of Out of the Woods (x) and debuts her Anna Wintour-esque bob (x).

After her performance, she is seen crying in the audience while Selena (her plus-one for the evening) comforts her. Apparently she is upset about missing a note while performing. (x) (video)

1989 wins Album of the Year, making her the first woman to win this award twice. In her acceptance speech, she references the situation with Kanye, saying, 'I want to say to all the young women out there, there are going to be people along the way who will try to undercut your success, or take credit for your accomplishments or your fame.' (x)

Taylor attends the Republic Records afterparty with friends and then-boyfriend Calvin Harris, who was not there for the awards show itself. (x)

In her 2020 documentary Miss Americana, Taylor had this to say about the 2016 Grammys: (x)

My life had never been better. I had won album of the year at the Grammys for a second time, which I never thought was a possibility. And I remembered thinking afterward, oh my god, that was all you wanted. Oh god, that was all you wanted. That was all you focused on. And you get to the mountaintop and you look around and you’re like, oh god. What now? I didn’t have a partner that I climbed it with that I could, like, high five. I didn’t have anyone I could talk to who could relate to what I was – you know? I had my mom. But I just wondered, shouldn’t I have someone that I could call right now?

Feb 16th - Calvin posts a photo of Taylor accepting her AOTY Grammy to social media with the caption, 'Congratulations to my beautiful girlfriend.' (x) I cannot believe this post is still up 💀💀

Taylor goes for lunch with Scott and Andrea at Cecconi's in LA. (x)

Feb 17th - Taylor is seen out shopping in Beverly Hills. (x)

The NME Awards take place in London at the O2 Academy. Taylor wins Best International Solo Artist but is not there in person. Instead, a pre-recorded video of her accepting the award is played at the ceremony. (x) Her outfit and haircut suggest that the video was filmed on the same day as her Vogue 73 Questions interview at her LA house.

Feb 19th - Taylor announces on Twitter that New Romantics will be the next single from 1989. (x)

She is seen getting off her plane in Reading, PA (x) and visiting her childhood home. (x)

Feb 20th - Taylor is the maid of honour at her childhood best friend Britany Maack's wedding in Pennsylvania. (x) She brings Vogue reporter Jason Gay with her, and he writes about the weekend for Taylor's Vogue cover story, published in the May edition. (x)

A few excerpts from that weekend (not published until almost two months later): (x)

Swift says she is ready to lie a little low. After the wedding, she will go to New York, where she will be spotted dining with her friend Lena Dunham, and then be seen a week later in Los Angeles with her brother, Austin, and her friend Lorde at the Vanity Fair Oscar Party. As for future plans . . . who knows? For the first time in years, Swift is not sure exactly what is next. She is very much OK with this.

So what the hell are you going to do with the rest of your life, Taylor Swift?

“I have no idea,” she says, with a sigh that’s more blissful than anxious. “This is the first time in ten years that I haven’t known. I just decided that after the past year, with all of the unbelievable things that happened . . . I decided I was going to live my life a little bit without the pressure on myself to create something.”

//

Because I’m a hopeless cheeseball, I can’t help asking: Being part of this wedding, does it make Swift think about being married some day? For the past year, she has been seeing the Scottish DJ-producer Calvin Harris. Harris is not here with her, but in early March, he and Swift will post cutesy notices on social media—his on Snapchat; hers on Instagram—commemorating the one-year status of their relationship. Soon after, both will post photographs of an idyllic, whereabouts-unknown vacation in the tropics, with ts + aw written in the sand. (Harris’s given name is Adam Wiles.)

“I’m just taking things as they come,” Swift says. “I’m in a magical relationship right now. And of course I want it to be ours, and low-key . . . this is the one thing that’s been mine about my personal life.”

//

“I think the world is so bored with the [Kanye] saga,” she goes on. “I don’t want to add anything to it, because then there’s just more.”

Feb 21st - Taylor donates $250,000 to Kesha after she loses her lawsuit against Dr Luke and Sony. (x)

Taylor goes to New York and visits the Vogue offices. (x) She also meets Lena Dunham for dinner. (x)

Feb 22nd - Demi Lovato tweets, 'Take something to Capitol Hill or actually speak out about something and then I'll be impressed.' The tweet is widely interpreted as shading Taylor following the news of her donation. (x)

Taylor is papped arriving at and leaving Milk Studios, a photography studio in NYC. (x) I think this was when they shot her Vogue cover (she wore a wig for the cover shoot and only bleached her actual hair in April when the magazine came out).

Feb 23rd - Kanye brings up the Famous controversy while onstage at 1 OAK nightclub in LA. He claims Taylor said “Ooh Kanye, I like that line!” when he told her about the line 'I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex.' “Then she won her award and said something completely different! She not cool no more. She had two seconds to be cool and she fucked it up.” (x)

Feb 24th - Taylor and Jack Antonoff go for dinner at the Maia restaurant in LA. (x)

Feb 28th - Taylor attends the Vanity Fair Oscars afterparty in LA. (x) She is photographed with Lorde and Austin.

Intro // February // March // April // May // June // July // August // September // October // November

#taylor swift #hiddleswift #tayvin #swiftwyn #jaylor #toe #taylor swift in 2016 #timeline

[incorrect-lotr-trash]

🥺🌼💕 get to know your mutuals!! When you get this, it means someone wants to know more about you, so list 5 things about yourself you want your followers to know. They can be as simple as your age or as complex as your deepest fear, as long as it’s something you’re comfortable with sharing. When you’re done, send to 10 people you want to know better!!🥺🌼💕

This is so heckin’ sweet W O W bless you!! Thank you for sending me this!! 

I mean I don’t think I have anything interesting to share..? (I’m an open book if people wanna know something just ask)

I’ll try and make this interesting.

1 - I am Scottish. I love my country very much, even though we did invent the deep-fried pizza (I’m so sorry Italy)

2 - When I was younger I thought if I vacuumed over electrical cables they would electrocute me. So for years I freaked out if I saw a family member about to vacuum over any cables. My brother probably told me it as a joke & my gullible butt believed him. 

3 - I HATE horror movies. I can’t watch them. Jaws makes me cry. I recently watched that zombie movie with Martin Freeman in it (’Cargo’ I think it was called?) and WOW it kept replaying in my mind over the next two weeks I couldn’t sleep ‘cause of it. My dumb dumb brain just thought, ’Hey its Martin Freeman we love him lets watch it for him!!’ and totally didn’t consider the zombie side until IT WAS ON THE SCREEN. 

4 - Here’s a bit of Tea for all you Hobbit fans. I was actually in school with the actor who played Bard’s son. (Baird? I can’t remember aaa) Which is why I actually don’t have any incorrect quotes with that character. (Think I have 1 queued up?) I don’t know him personally & I never did! He was a friend of a friend. Also I left school what... 7 years ago? In my head he is this little blond kid and I forget he is in The Hobbit until he’s thrown on screen my brain goes ‘oh right yeah that John kid is in this’ and I’m thrown back to reality for like a second. He seems to be doing well for himself!

5 - I love Kpop. Not the newer stuff (No hate on it - I think its fab & all these bands are so talented, but I’m attached to my time of Kpop). SHINee are my loves (I have a tattoo for precious Jonghyun) & DBSK/TVXQ/JYJ are my soul. 

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TAGGING ME! 💖 I’m gonna tag EVERYONE who reads this & wants to do it!! I love hearing about people’s little quirks and facts! 💖

#this was fun #thank you!!! #asks

[thesassenachswiftie]

Chapter 2: “You Need To Calm Down)

Read on AO3

Summary:

Chapter 2 is here! It's time for Claire and Jamie's first fight but that also it's time for their first make-up sex. This is my first time writing Smut but @statell assures me I did a good job. If that's really not your thing (I mean you are reading OL fanfic so it probably is), it's all the big paragraph near the end and the two dialogue paragraphs after you can easily skip to the last 3 dialogue paragraphs without losing the plot. Big thanks to everyone following along on this journey and all the kudos and comments on the last chapter.

This chapter is not only inspired by "You Need to Calm Down" but also by "The Reckoning" any quotes borrowed from either of these works belong to their respective author whom I am indebted to and admire greatly.

Notes:

First of all, I’m on Twitter now @sassenachswifty.

Second of all, There was a short lived comment on AO3 about Jo's pronouns on my last chapter. I genuinely think the commenter realized their mistake and deleted it before I had a chance to respond--which is fine and good, heaven knows I've made mistakes with pronouns and felt weird and caught of guard about them and all of that. Basically they were saying the they/them pronons were not grammatically correct and were distracting to the reader. I get that, I totally do, it feels uncomfortable because we were never taught about the singular they in school and it looks/sounds weird if you're not used to it. However, the sigular they has been recognized by APA, MLA and I believe Chicago style and is, therefore grammatically correct. It's something I'm getting used to as a writer and it's something we can try to get used to as readers as we move forward into a more progressive society. Our grandkids are going to make fun of us someday for struggling with pronouns. I just wanted to say it's ok to struggle, it's not ok to dismiss (which I genuinely believe the commenter was not doing). Jo came to me as a nonbinary character, and while it is a good exercise in pronoun usage for me as an author, that is not their primary function in the story, they are there to be Claire’s friend first and foremost. They/them are Jo's pronouns and I cannot and will not call them anything else because that would be disrespectful to them. My only other option would be to use "Jo" in every instance where he/she/her/him would come up which would be annoying, repetative and frankly, bad writing. Thank you for coming to my TED talk, now on with the show!

Chapter 2: “You Need To Calm Down”

Claire awoke in Jamie’s bed early on Saturday morning.  It was graduation day, but she was definitely not walking the stage.  Still laying on her side, she picked up her phone off the nightstand and began mindlessly scrolling Facebook, stopping at a collection of photos from an end of semester happy hour the night before.  Frank was there as well as several of their mutual friends.  Were they still friends? Probably not anymore, who knows if they ever were.  Claire tapped from the photos posted by Gillian to the tag that took her to Frank’s profile.  She scrolled down his feed to see if there were any new updates. Other than the pictures, it was the same barely cryptic statuses that were clearly throwing shade her way to anyone that knew.  In a tweet? That’s a cop-out. Taking shots at me like it's Patrón, she mused to herself, recalling the pictures from the night before. Claire began swiping through Frank’s photos going back further and further.  Her and Frank in front of the house with the “sold” sign in the yard.  A candid picture she took of Frank in a coffee shop one day.  Brilliant, smiling faces of them and their friends all dressed up at their New Year’s Eve party--many of the people pictured in the photos from last night. Frank proudly standing with his arm around her, Claire beaming and angling her hand just so a few days after they got engaged.  Claire was so engrossed in these images she didn’t realize Jamie had awoken behind her.  He leaned over to plant a kiss on that spot just behind her ear, pausing when he saw what she was looking at, “Damn Sassenach, it’s seven AM for Chrissakes” he hissed.

Claire’s face flushed immediately. She had been caught.  She didn’t even know why she was doing what she was doing, but she felt ashamed, defensive, embarrassed, and justified all at once.  She swiped out of her Facebook app instantly but it was too late.  He had seen and the damage had been done. She couldn’t speak, she didn’t have any good excuses, and she definitely couldn’t turn to look at Jamie. She set the phone back down on the nightstand and burrowed her curly head under the pillow trying to avoid his gaze.  She couldn’t see his face, but she knew Jamie was watching her intently waiting for an explanation.

“Hey, are you ok? I dinna mean to snap at ye Claire, It’s just early and I dinna expect to see ye looking at pictures of your ex after what I thought was such a satisfying night. Am I not good enough for ye Claire?”  His tone started gentle and caring, but his veins were pulsing with jealous rage and his voice got more angry and frantic as he continued.  “Look at me, Claire!”

Claire didn’t like being told what to do, especially not with the newfound feminist energy Jo had ignited in her.  She hoisted herself out from her cocoon, and sprang up to face him. “I don’t have to do what you tell me to. You need, to calm down, you’re being too loud!”

 He made a distinctly Scottish noise--“Hmpph. That’s not what ye said last night Sassenach” he growled.  He couldn’t help flirting with her even in his anger. She looked so bonny, bare-breasted with her curls splayed every which way, the fire of her anger alight in her whisky eyes--frightening and sexy at the same time.

Claire wasn’t amused by his quip, or by the tone of voice in which he said it, “you need to just stop, like can you just not? I don’t like it one bit!”

“Not what, Claire? Not want ye only for myself? Not feel jealous seeing pictures of that rat bastard with his smug grin and his arm around ye to be the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning? You do belong to me, whether ye like it or not. Why are you mad? I’m the only one allowed to be mad, Claire! Yer mine, damn ye Claire! Mine, and I wilna share ye, with a man or a memory or anything whatsoever”

Her glass face broke before his eyes as he raised his voice louder.  Her anger had turned to something fragile, something Jamie was afraid he would break.  Even still, she spoke softly, but confidently, “I don’t belong to you or anyone, I’m my own person. You need to just take several seats” She glanced away from him, trying to keep her composure.  

Controlling his urge to scream, he replied “I know that, that’s not what I meant.  I ain’t trying to mess with who you are or your self expression, I mean that I am yours just as much as you are mine”

Damn, he’s good, thought Claire as she met his gaze again.  His passion, even when directed towards anger, was still sexy.

“Claire, I see you over there on the internet all the time, this isn’t the first time you’ve done this is it?”

She nodded in agreement, embarrassed, but somehow she felt safe admitting it to Jamie.  She was beginning to realize just how much he truly cared about her.  As strange as it seemed, through this small fight, their relationship was moving from simply mutual, passionate attraction to something deeper.  It might have been there all along beyond the urges of the flesh, but she was just now truly seeing it.  It was exciting and terrifying all at the same time.

“Listen, I’ve learned a lesson that stressing and obsessing about somebody else is no fun.” Jamie disclosed, trying to restore the peace. “He’s not worth your time if he let a girl like you go on the drop of a hat like that.” This made Claire wince internally, hoping he didn’t see, there was more to it than that.  He didn’t seem to notice and continued, “What we have is like sunshine, but you act like you would rather be in the dark.”  He reached for her arm, caressing it gently.

“You’ve figured me out.  You’re right, I don’t know why I keep checking on him. I guess I’m hoping I’ll find out something horrible has happened to him; but I promise, only you have me.”

“I mean to have you Claire, I am your master and you are mine. It seems I cannot possess your soul without losing my own.”  Both of Jamie’s hands were on Claire’s arms now, gripping her more firmly now. They were drawing closer to each other, the passion of their anger still surging in their veins. “I want you Claire, I want you so much I can scarcely breathe. Will you have me?”

“Yes.”

Their lips met with a fervour unlike any they had experienced before, hands caressing everywhere. Claire moaned into Jamie’s mouth as his hand cupped her breast, stroking her nipple vigorously with his palm.  His lips moved to her neck, that spot behind her ear that made her giggle and squeak.  He was ravenous, consuming her flesh with his lips, making his way down to her other breast, sucking her nipple as he ran his tongue around it, willing all sorts of noises to emit from her mouth.  She was straddling him, grinding against him, feeling his wanting against her in just the right spot. She thrust her hands into his boxer briefs, tugging at his hips to bring them even closer.  He responded in kind, slipping his hands into the lace waistband her cotton panties and grabbing that arse he loved so much.  He moved one hand around to her front and started stroking her most sensitive area and slipped a finger inside her.  “Oh, Jamie” she moaned as she began to ease his waistband down.  She allowed herself to let him go for a moment, releasing him to remove his underwear, as she did the same.  As soon as they were fully exposed to one another, she was on top of him again.  She moved herself up and down his length, feeling him rub against her, igniting a euphoric sensation in her core. When neither of them could take it anymore he slipped inside her, and she took him in to the hilt, riding him almost violently.  All the anger and shame she had felt moments ago had transformed into a primal lust unleashed on him. He responded in kind, kissing her vigorously across breasts, neck and shoulders until she shoved him back on the bed to gain a better angle.  Pushing her hand to his chest for leverage, she rode him harder than she’d ever ridden anyone before--not even the vibrator she used to experiment with in college. She could see he was close, his face contorting as he resisted the urge to finish before her.

“Sassenach, you’ll be the death of me” he groaned.

“Just a little more, Jamie” she panted, just before crying out, “Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh”. Seeing her satisfied, he allowed himself to finish as well.  Claire gently detached from him and collapsed beside him, breathless, resting on his chest, hair sprawled across him.

“Oh Sassenach, ye keep that up and I’m liable to pick fights with you more often” he sighed.

“You better watch out before you start something you can’t finish” she quipped in response.  

Jamie simply made a Scottish noise in reply, staring at the ceiling stroking her hair, wondering if he had, in fact, done just that.

End Note:

I try to slip in as many lyrics from each song as possible and make it still "work", occasionally changing tenses or adding/subtracting words to make them work. Claire's orgasm moans are the "oh oh's" in the chorus of YNTCD and I'm simultaneously proud of myself and ashamed.

#lover #outlander fanfic #outlander fic #jamie x claire #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #modern au #inspired by taylor swift #you need to calm down #smut

[obx-direction-sos]

hi jillian, it’s me, jillian. your tags don’t work when you make a regular post, only through asks :) oh, me, this is for the 100 celebration just to remind you since you’re dumb. bye me

oh hey me! thank you for the compliment :)

100 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION!

come celebrate my first milestone with me!

TROPICAL EDITION!

send a....

🌴for a first impression!

☀️for a ship! (send a short description, gender preference, and a fandom: outer banks, musical artists i’ve shown interest to, live action ~older~ disney characters -like camp rock era-, any musical artist)

🐠 for a cast your mutuals!

🌊 for a 2-4 sentence blurb based on your url! (include a specific character you want if it’s not platonic)

🐙 for a playlist based on your name!

🐡 and send a fic/account rec!

🐬 and send opinions/hopes/ships (obx) and i’ll tell you if i agree or not!

⛱ and ask me any questions about me! (i will not post phone number, address, last name, face reveal, etc asks)

tagging some faves: @scottish-sim @mxltifandoms06 @badinee @r0s3mm @drewswannabegirl @pink-meringues @twilightstilinski @prejudic3 @obxmxybxnk @blognotfound @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @summerkaulitz 

[anxiety-trademark]

The week in review:

Raw 12/14 NXT 12/16 NXT UK 12/17 Smackdown 12/18 TLC 12/20 + Main Event 12/17

Raw:

“This Sunday at tlc, it’s gonna be you and me against Nia and Shayna,” Lana says to Asuka, as a quiet ‘woo’ can be heard in the distance.

Lana facing her fears and fighting Nia Jax makes her the bravest person Asuka knows. Rolling. Fucking Asuka. ASUKA. wwe, stop.

Why isn’t Asuka accompanying Lana to the ring?

I like Lana’s gear.

Joe just compared Lana to a mosquito, goodbye.

Oh snap look how fast Lana did that headscissors takedown. We’re witnessing her progression, ladies and gents.

You know, I knew Lana would win this match, I knew exactly how she would win this match, but jfc what a treat watching it myself. 

Nia’s face lmfao.

Shayna wrecking Asuka so she can’t save Lana from her inevitable fate. Still curious on whether or not this beatdown injured her, if she was injured going into the match, or if it was all really just a storyline.

Yikes this is sad.

Man that leg drop onto Lana’s ankle actually looked kinda wicked, ngl.

*distant woo intensifies*

Wow we got real tears from Lana. Points.

Becky and Charlotte have been gone, Alexa hasn’t been on tv, the Raw women’s championship has become a meaningless prop... what a dead period for this roster.

Hi why is this match happening?

I will never not be impressed by Dana’s entrance.

Is Mandy actually hurt? Why did they take her off tv for so long? Is Shayna the resident kayfabe shelver? “Hey this girl is actually injured, have her written off by Shayna” ?? Cuz I know they’re not splitting Dana and Mandy up, and Dana has been on tv every week since Mandy left. Must be genuine.

These 2 are running roughshod over the entire division at this point.

OH SHIT MANDY’S BACK WITH A KENDO STICK

Lmfao the babyfaces are fucking done with Nia and Shayna. Honestly that’s great, I love it when babyfaces band together to stand up to dominant duos. This has been going on long enough. They took out Mandy, took out Lana, were about to take out Dana. Totally fair.

Highlight: Lana getting a clean win over Nia & being taken out so my queen can return

---

NXT:

It’s a funny thing with Toni and Rhea. Toni says she’s the reason Rhea came to nxt, but she’s also the reason I became such a huge fan of Rhea’s. Heard they were having some big TakeOver match and everyone was always praising Toni. So I checked into Blackpool solely to see what the Toni Storm fuss was about, and I left that ppv solely impressed by Rhea Ripley. Then I took particular notice of Rhea in the Royal Rumble a few weeks later, and I’ve been watching NXT UK for her ever since (til she moved). To see her growth has been tremendous, and she’s so young. Such a bright future.

The music to this is great.

Toni says she isn’t scared of Rhea, as if Rhea’s mere theme music didn’t scare the absolute shit out of Toni the week prior lol.

Toni’s not even a terrible promo, but the timing of her blinks could not be worse. Yes, it matters.

I can’t stop laughing at how fucking intensely Shotzi started this interview.

She does pissed off interviews well. I can feel her annoyance.

Really don’t want to see a Candice/Shotzi feud tbh but okay, I’ll try.

aaand there’s the howl. Awful.

Lmfao Rhea called Toni a piece of trash. This is gonna be interesting to see with the alignments reversed.

I don’t remember who won this match, but I’m betting it was Toni. Which is fair tbh. Rhea is probably on the “put some peeps over before moving up to the main roster” path that everyone in the women’s division walks on. They always eat at least one monumental, or a couple meaningful, loss(es).

Oh man that is fucked up. To not only be forced to continue punching/kicking a human (fun fact: the person on the offense takes quite the damage doing so) but to have the defenseless victim bleed out and beg for you to stop. That’s rough.

This was shot really well. That music holy shit, I’m creeped out. It’s like a horror movie.

I see the point. Numbs him to pain and breaks his will, while numbing her to mercy. Ruthless stuff.

Oh are we finally done with Indi’s neck brace? Cool.

I can’t believe wwe invested in this upgraded tank. I still don’t think it’d work on the MR, but points to the boss for shelling out the cash.

Wtf was that stumble and “fall” by Indi lmao.

If Candice was a real bully, she’d distract Shotzi by fucking with her tank at ringside.

Indi does need a mentor, she’s a hell of a lot greener than my mutuals have made it sound. oof.

Shotzi looks like she has no idea how to work with Indi, and Indi looks gassed, confused, and slow as hell.

All Indi knows it going from spot to spot while Shotzi waits around for her to get there.

Lol Indi failed at getting a dirty win. I don’t really care if this is a part of her The Way storyline, what a mess.

The only redeeming part of this piss poor segment was Theory shaking the troll’s head at Shotzi.

I’ll give wwe an extra $9.99 if they let this match have a clean ending.

“[Rhea] was at one point the biggest superstar in the world,” that isn’t even close to being true because Becky Lynch exists, but I’ll let it slide and pretend you said “in nxt”.

Their paths will be so similar to Becky and Charlotte in the future.

Wow what a sequence. That would’ve received an applause on the MR. Traded headlocks for restholds, threw around their strength, then went into a battle of pinfall reversals. Instead of following that with some stalemate, they didn’t take a breath and proceeded to dance with each other and showcase some chemistry before rolling back into a battle of pinfall reversals. The sequence started with a kick by Toni to Rhea’s midsection, and it ends with a kick by Rhea to Toni’s midsection. Peep that match production, good stuff.

My, my, those slaps to Toni’s back. Whew.

Yeah actually it’s really fucking cool that these 2 get to main event nxt together, come to think of it.

They sell well for each other.

Rhea has the best dropkicks, lesbireal.

Holy shit Toni’s headbutts make my own head hurt. God I wish she wouldn’t. Most people put their hands between the heads so no contact can be made, but Toni’s just like “lol fuck it”

This is a great match. This duo works a lot better with these specific alignments. Watching face Toni try to chop down Rhea is not as good as heel Toni being impossibly hard for Rhea to put away.

Women’s matches and never having a clean ending. Name a more iconic duo. Winter of overbooked women’s matches continues.

Like I had guessed Toni was gonna win anyway, but fucking come on.

*Bonus* online exclusive: Toni says playing by the rules got her diddly and squat, but like... she was a champion lol. “It ain’t even Toni time right now, it’s party time.” Alright.

Highlight: Rhea vs Toni minus the ending

---

NXT UK:

I don’t know why we’re getting Isla Dawn vs KLR but anytime I get to see KLR fight, I’m here for it.

Hell even Isla’s song never kicks it out of first gear. Song has so much potential but it never goes to the next level.

Ahhhh my Scottish queen is here.

No, don’t compare Sasha’s basement meteora to the double knees Isla did. That was pitiful.

Anyway, KLR vs any of the 4hw would be fantastic, take my money. Sasha, Bayley, Charlotte, or the woman KLR wanted to face at TO Dublin, Dublin native Becky Lynch.

That back body drop is horrendous as a finisher. It’s like when Becky won her debut match the exploder suplex. Awful lmao. Imagine if KLR lost to a back body drop ffs.

You don’t get to be this frustrated for not being able to beat the champion when you’ve only been fighting for like 3 mins.

Isla’s pisspoor speed going in the corner, and her pisspoor roll off of KLR’s tornado ddt. Shame.

Such a clean transition from a failed pinfall attempt into a submission by KLR, whew.

This whole match was just a flex by KLR lmao.

There was a time where we had Becky Lynch, Bayley, Rhea Ripley and KLR as our champions. Wow, take me back plz.

The background music of this stupid recording is so unnecessarily dramatic, wow.

All for the delivery of a chair. Of a fucking chair. Piper... shut up and handle your shit.

For someone so much larger than the little man, Piper is insanely unintimidating.

Highlight: I got to see KLR wrestle

---

Smackdown:

Bayley does run her mouth a lot. She’s kind of the EST at saying dumb shit that gets her into trouble lmao.

Bianca is so friggin good at interviews and in backstage segments. She hasn’t received much of a chance to do promos in the ring, let alone obviously to a live crowd, but I hope she shines there, too.

Has Liv reverted back to being a dumb blonde, or is it drugs? Stop letting her speak.

Love Riott Squad’s everchanging gear. Wonder who makes it for them.

Billie Kay claims that she’s a ‘seasoned’ ring announcer, and somehow that would not surprise me.

Tamina “get the fuck out of my face until I get a nap and a vat of coffee” Snuka, everyone.

Lmfaooo Tamina fucking chucked Liv across the damn ring. What a good job by Liv.

Ruby is exceptional at running the ropes. She gets a good spring off of it.

Tamina’s hair is always so beautiful, she gets points there.

Dropkick into a faceplant. Billie Kay gets pinned rofl. She’s so bad at wrestling and yet here I am ridiculously entertained.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Carmella’s current persona, but man I wish she’d come out in a cut off tank top, camo pants, high tops and a printed hat.

I mean people are at home cuz covid, but go off.

Aye putting over Sasha. Good heel Mella.

Sasha has held the title for like a whopping 2 months and we’re already marking calendars. Sad.

In kf, Sasha is kind of mentally weak, so I’ll give Mella that. I’m not sure what it’s gonna take to shake that perception, either.

“Who is Sasha Banks if she’s not the Boss? Who is Sasha Banks if she’s not the best? It’s sad because that’s a question that not even Sasha Banks knows the answer too.” So I get that wwe are trying to help Sasha develop and fight off her past demons, but man these women are ripping her a new one. Sasha’s only 29 so she can grow and develop however she wants, but jeeze. Salt, meet the dagger Bayley stuck in Sasha’s back.

I like Mella cuz she knows how to hype her opponent’s accolades and strengths while cutting an immaculate heel promo where she hits them RIGHT where it hurts. She’s a pro. Heels should take notes.

This music is like the Jazz Vibes playlist I always listen to.

She just called Sasha cheap and frantic lmaoooo

Oh damn Sasha be out here looking like MONEY. That girl has style, even if it doesn’t always hit with me, she got style.

oof the crack of that slap to Reggie.

OOF the crack of the bottle shattering over Sasha’s poor back. rip.

Match at TLC should’ve been a champagne match. That entails whatever your mind comes up with; pouring alcohol on your opponent, dumping their head in a bucket of ice, breaking bottles over spines. It don’t matter.

“You don’t see me going around here bragging about how damn good I am,” lmao WHAT. Bayley is equal parts delusional and obnoxiously annoying.

One size heel does not fit all, but I think her version suits her beautifully.

If I were her I’d pick your brain too, but I’d also want a match, cuz people leave matches with you looking as good as humanly possible. Equal parts selfless as well.

She didn’t lie, this was absolutely her putting Bianca on the map on the main roster.

wwe: wants to strap a rocket to Bianca and make her a star. Also fucking wwe: “lol no we’re not gonna show you her full entrance, cry more scrub.” 

Bayley still looks weird without a title.

Bayley mocks Bianca’s entrance and then gets swept onto the apron lmao. Idiot.

Bianca is a lot of flash and showboating, which is great from an entertainment standpoint, but she needs to do a little... less.

Fantastic snap of the hand against the led board. Bayley wrecking Bianca’s arm gonna hinder the flips.

“I’m the ER. I’m BET-TER. haha.” lmao Bayley is such a fucking dork. Got sent into the ring steps for her bravado. Love that there’s always immediate repercussions for Bayley’s arrogance.

Bayley turned midway going down onto Bianca’s knee for that backbreaker, there. Hope she doesn’t have a massive bruise. Looked like it’d leave a massive bruise.

3 things I’ll apparently never get to see again: Bianca’s hair whip, Bianca’s full entrance, and Bianca’s 450 splash. I’m tired.

These stupid fucking squats while Bianca is dangling off the top rope rofl I swear Bayley is something else. Girl knows how to entertain. “Bayley got a bit cute and Bianca made her pay,” story of Bayley’s life.

Beautiful spinebuster by Bianca. At least SOMEONE in the women’s division will use it.

Bit of a miscommunication there it seems. Bayley goes for a B2B, Bianca tries to block it, Bayley drops down to dodge and go for a cradle. She rolls Bianca all the way back, stands up and hesitates before running at Bianca with an elbow - even though Bianca is not in position to receive it - which Bianca counters by rolling Bayley up, but it was super obvious Bianca was just scouting the next spot. Bianca goes to pick her up for a powerbomb but Bayley has to kick out twice to prevent herself from being pinned while Bianca tries to lift her. That entire sequence was super messy.

Then Bianca nearly drops her lifting her all the way up lol. Yikes. Gotta be pretty fluent to pull that off. Not to plug my fav (but I’m totally gonna plug my fav); it’s a move Charlotte does in almost every match against Asuka or Becky, and you gotta be not only built to pull it off, but you need to have impeccable timing to make the transition look smooth. Extra points if you lift them off the mat RIGHT before a 3 (which Charlotte usually does)

Anyway, good match with a messy last 2 sequences. Bayley did what Bayley does best.

Highlight: Bayley vs Bianca

---

TLC:

They really took Eva Marie and Sasha Banks’ characters and meshed them together while keeping Carmella’s obsession for animal print lol.

Really don’t like that gear. That’s a miss, Mikaze.

Beautiful arm drag. Sasha taking the idea of wrestling like a Lucha more seriously? Cuz she should, ain’t nobody else in the MR doing it.

Commentators say the trash talk is continuing, I say Sasha is quietly leading this match with a grimace. Peeped that “hit me”.

Carmella goes to suicide dive through the ropes just for Reggie to catch her, cept she got caught up and started turning in midair. Would’ve hit her neck and shoulder HARD had he not been there. Great catch indeed.

Sasha “rip my back” Banks.

Not to be douchey, but if you have to adjust your gear in the middle of a match and it’s not just to fill time or be used as character work, then you need to redesign your gear.

Sasha’s a great babyface once that bell rings man. I wish she could carry that energy everywhere.

Holy fuck that facebuster. SPIKED her head, oh my god. I have never seen anyone make a facebuster look so impactful. Points if intentional.

Oh the timing of Sasha blocking that superkick from legit connecting. God she’s good.

You know how I know this is a good match? I’m watching some of these near pinfalls and submissions knowing damn well Sasha’s gonna win, yet my anxiety is still spiking thinking Carmella might walk out with the title. I KNOW she doesn’t though lmao. Good sequences, believable offense, great near pinfalls. They work well together (I’m not surprised, Mella and Sasha both work well with almost anyone)

What a fantastic transition into the bank statement. Points.

That match should’ve ended by dq the second Reggie pulled Mella out. 

Sasha could’ve sold that double superkick pinfall attempt a little bit more.

Carmella having a breakdown. What does that mean? That means she’s about to lose this match lmao. There it is, not even 10 seconds later hahaha.

Sasha sells pain so damn well. Good for her. Good defense of her title. Points to Sasha, she’s phenomenal every time she has an actual match. Post-match and she’s already annoyed me though lol. Ugh. Maybe she’ll get it soon enough.

Nice “replay” wwe. Billion dollar company btw.

Billie, drawing a horizontal line is not how you write ‘clairvoyant’. 

“proficient in Japanese” aw Asuka was so excited for a split second lmao.

Oh no, she made a mask to match Asuka’s with a paper plate. Oh no no no. Travesty. 

Ugh I’m so excited. I’ve already seen this and yet I’m excited. Here we are, the whole damn reason I started catching up on everything I basically refused to watch since June 22.

SHE LOOKS LIKE MONEY, WHEW. The queen IS back. She’s so fucking beautiful man.

Love how annoyed Nia looks. This is your comeuppance tbh. Could’ve just faced a measly Lana, but no, you had to play too much.

Really Charlotte shouldn’t be in the tag division, and really she shouldn’t give half of a fuck about Asuka, but we’ll get to that more in the future since this is already nearly 2 months old.

Nia’s doing a great job selling Charlotte’s return, and she’s not even active in the match rn. She does good work.

Bad camera angle on Asuka hitting the ring post.

Asuka getting wrecked lol.

I really despise that the Raw women’s championship was tied up in all of these storylines that have nothing to do with the Raw women’s championship. The Lana crap, the Charlotte crap, the tag teaming in general crap.

In hindsight, I now find it curious that Ric Flair was in the back for this match. Very curious. I swear, if the past 2 real time months weren’t a part of some master plan the Flairs came up with together, I will be SHOCKED.

Charlotte’s fucking crazy for doing those moonsaults to the outside though, for real. I know she was a gymnast and an exceptional cheerleader, but MAN you could not pay me to do fucking blind back flips that high up. Crazy.

She should’ve given us a spear in this match. I wanna go rewatch her work just to see some spears.

Good match. They needed to not focus on destroying Asuka for as long as they did, pacing was off for a little bit there.

Love how Charlotte sticks her tongue out when she bridges up into the figure 8. She’s such an asshole lmao.

If I could’ve changed one thing about that finish, I would’ve had Charlotte bounce off the ropes before hitting Natural Selection. Other than that, it was great.

Charlotte looks good with a title, idk *shrug*

The way Charlotte looked over at Asuka though. I really don’t trust her in hindsight lol.

Like how this Firefly Funhouse is setting the spotlight on Alexa before Bray takes his leave of absence, only wish she hadn’t missed 2-3 wks of tv.

What a fun way of running a video package.

Inferno matches are insane and I’m not sure why anyone would participate in such.

Think it’s smart they’re both leaving their jackets on tbh.

Alright that was cool. The way Fiend called up the flames was fucking cool. It looks amazing aesthetically. They could’ve never done the set quite like this if there had been fans.

WE HAVE STRAPS?! IS FIRE NOT ENOUGH?!? Man. Randy is a fucking trooper.

Guys. Guys excuse me, that strap is on fire, can... can we not, please??

Man is swinging a god damn pick axe at Randy Orton, I--

I hope that wasn’t actually flammable liquid cuz otherwise Randy is now soaked in it, and that’s insanely dangerous. Oh that’s great editing. So it was flammable, but Randy was out of the chair before the fire rushed at him. Also covered the chair in blood. That was cool.

Orton just pull the damn string out of the jacket real quick lol.

Caught Orton’s attempt at an rko with a mandable claw. Points.

Can someone... put him out? Editing trick? Were the flames real? Am I real??

Shouldn’t the bell ring? Match is over, right??

The dummy was kind of obvious ngl. Not to sound like an asshole, but they should’ve made it a bit thicker and more solid lol. Doesn’t really take me out of it though, cuz even though I’m sure it was a stunt double that got lit on fire by the ramp, someone was on fucking fire, and that’s intimidating in itself.

Also the dummy is melting. I’d say they should’ve used pig meat, but I’m sure vegans and animal rights activists would’ve had a field day writing to Snickers about that.

Was a good match, for what it was. I was entertained.

---

*BONUS*

Main Event:

“Nasty Nikki” lol okay.

“The only reason people even know you exist is because you were Alexa Bliss’ best friend,” ouch. Truth is pain.

Ahahahah Lacey has hand sanitizer again. 

Love that submission Lacey jumped into through the ropes, plus an eye rake. Fantastic.

That’s curious. Lacey and Peyton are arguing over the hand sanitizer as Lacey wants to squirt it on Nikki, while Peyton is claiming it’ll get her DQd. Now I’m on Peyton’s side in the sense that it should absolutely be illegal, but Lacey’s done it in a match against Nikki before, sooo ???

I like how Nikki fell trying to get back into the ring before the 10 count. Adds credibility.

Haha Nikki gets the pinfall over Lacey because Peyton was being a nuisance on the outside. Lacey big mad. That’s great.

---

*Smackdown easily shined the brightest in what was a great week of wrestling. Utilized 8 women in 3 different storylines, couldn’t possibly complain about that.

#wwe #issa review #feel free to ignore these #cuz who tf cares lesbihonest #today's props goes to: #charlotte flair

[distinguishednachotale]

The DJ

Previous Chapter

Chapter Three

The white of the hotel room felt brighter as the rising sun hit the walls, drawing the grey curtains cross the sliding balcony door so he could open his eyes without glare blinding him Richard felt instant relief. The days had been long, the nights longer filming the same scene over and over for different angles and accuracy. Shedding his clothes Richard threw them into the bathroom hamper then stepped into the running warm shower. 6am, only just finished filming for the night shoot and sleep was calling, no screaming his name. The natural chemistry between you and Richard showed on the screen, the Director lapped it up. As the days passed he saw you coming back to life on set, but the caution was still evident. Even while you were filming scenes where Richard was not needed, he watched you film purely so he could catch glimpses of the carefree woman you once were reemerging.

 There was no after shooting drinks, no public meetings with anyone. But often Richard would hear a light knock at his door and you would come in. The conversation flowed, it didn’t stop, awkward silence never interrupted. The two of you discussed your mutual home country of Scotland, both of you missing the quiet of the country towns. A small trip was planned once filming was over between the two of you, a cabin in the Highlands where no one could find you two. You confided in him about what had happened while filming two years before; someone had told Nate about you having a drink with a co-star, two beating’s followed. One for him, at the hands of a masked assailant who was never caught and one for you at the hand of Nate. It explained why you never caught up with anyone in public.

 Stepping out of the shower Richard slid on a pair of boxer shorts and lay down on his bed, uncaring about getting under the soft covers sleep quickly took over. You ran down the hall, your heart racing and breath catching in your throat. Sliding on the carpet you nearly missed room 204 where Richard slept. Frantically you knocked on the door, muttering his name through choked sobs.

 The door opened to a sleepy face that woke suddenly as he saw your tear stained face, “He knows Richard, he knows. Please don’t let him find me.” You cry, holding your phone out to him with a shaking hand. Taking your phone Richard stood aside, ushering you in while gazing down the wall to see if anyone was watching your interaction. You too had changed into sleepwear, a pair of black cotton shorts covered the very top of your legs with a baggy white shirt and crew socks covered your small feet. Pacing around the room you couldn’t help but panic and fear everything coming your way, you could feel his anger, his burning hot rage sitting on a plane heading to Croatia where you were filming.

 Richard scrolled through the text message exchange, it was short on her end but vocal and colorful on his. Anger, threats and degrading messages were fired her way rapidly. The time stamps showing him they were send one after the other after the other, with no time for a response. “Ev…”

 “I don’t know how he knows, but he always finds out. He always does.”

 “Hey,” Putting the phone down he stopped your pacing, taking a cigarette out of your hand he cast it to the side. “Love, I’m not going to leave your side. Not for a second.” Gazing up at his eyes you took a brave step forward and pressed your lips against Richards, the kiss quickly became frantic and rushed; opening his eyes Richard realized this was wrong. Every bone in his body felt like he would be taking advantage of you in your state if it were to go any further. Pulling away he muttered, “Ev, I can’t I’m sorry…”

 “I’m sorry, I thought…” Spinning around you picked your phone up off the counter top, leaving the room quickly. Walking down the hallway, wiping the hot tears off your face you ignored the desperate Scottish voice calling your name. Finding your room you let yourself in, locking the door behind you and sliding down the door. You felt embarrassed, it felt like Richard had felt that spark you had; but you had misread it. You fool.

 Taking your clothes off, you threw them onto your bed then found a pair of blue denim jeans and a sweater to wear instead. Your body had healed over the previous three weeks, the bruises were gone, makeup took half the time as it had previously. You could move freely and, you thought, spend time with Richard safely. Your phone brought you out of your thoughts, sighing you were in half a mind to ignore it however upon seeing Indie’s name you answered.

 “Hi Ev, sorry to call you…” Indie’s flight was due to leave in a couple of hours, she was flying ahead of the rest of the cast to the next location. She had been packing up her makeup from the trailer, and had come across your purse at the makeup station. Cursing yourself you knew it meant instead of a quiet tea as planned it meant you had to catch a cab across town.

 That is how you found yourself walking up the pathway to the familiar trailer.

”Indie, you here?” Your voice echoed. “Indie, I-”

 “You’re really fucking thick you know that.” Your heart froze, his voice was spiteful and angry. Turning around slowly you saw Nate standing there, dark jeans and a long sleeve shirt folded at his elbows covered his lightly tattooed arms while you could see a combination of anger, amusement and fatigue cover his face. His black hair was messy, unkept and pushed back slightly and you could see a few beads of sweat were pooling at his hair line. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

 “Nate, please.” As he stepped forward you felt yourself instinctively step back.

 “Those non disclosure agreements, do you think they protect you? You fool. Do you know who tells met your every move? Them. The “artists”, as those bitches call themselves. So desperate to work with celebrities they’ll sign any fucking thing I tell them to.” He spits in your face with each word, a hand wraps around your throat menacingly pressing a small teasing amount of pressure against your windpipe before releasing. “They are the ones who tell me, Everly. Them. Every single time he brings you a coffee, every time he checks on you, every time you go to him after filming they tell me.” Stepping away Nate turned to close and lock the trailer door, making sure all the windows were shut he left you to ponder his words. All the friendships you thought you had made over the years with the makeup and hair stylists were false, they were the ones telling Nate your every move for all these years. Dozen of them, you wagered, had told him in exchanged for recommendations on other film sets.

 The first blow to your cheek was a surprise, you were so focused on your thoughts you hadn’t seen Nate return. His knuckles connected firmly with your cheek bone, the skin ripped slightly and you felt warm blood drip down. You hit the floor, looking at the maroon carpet you groaned softly. A scream escaped you lips as a boot connected with your stomach, flipping you onto your back curling up to protect your aching abdomen. The underside of his boot stumped on your hands, a crack and scream melted together as you felt the bones on two of your fingers break from the pressure.

 “I’m sorry Everly, but you should have known how this would go.” He rained down hard on you, straddling your stomach he pushed your fighting hands down, he never flinched as you scratched and clawed at him, instead he took his own swings. Connecting every time with your face he his harder and harder until you went limp, one hand kept pulling your head up by your brown matted with blood hair. Pulling a fraction harder he pulled a clump of hair from you, throwing the hair to the side he admired his work. His fists were red, your blood staining them.

 “You fucking idiot.” Richard cursed himself, sitting on the end of he bed with his head resting in his hands. Fatigue had long left his body, replaced with a wide awake feeling he knew wasn’t going to go away while he felt so guilty. No part of him regret not taking advantage of you, he had dreamed of making love to you for weeks. But not like this, in his dreams you were happy and vibrant. Not sad, and afraid.

 Instinctively as soon as your name flashed up on the screen, Richard answered with a quick, “Ev I’m so sorry, I-” You screams filled his ears, standing from the bed Richard tried calling your name, but all he could do was listen as your screams stopped. The unmistakable sound of the beating had Richard hang up, instead pulling clothes and shoes on desperately, and running down the flights of stairs to the foyer. Dialing your number repeatedly there was never an answer.

 “Ma’am, please help,” Richard pushed his way to the front of the line at the reception desk. A middle aged woman was shocked by his rude behaviour, but she recognised him as on of their high value customers. “Everly McCarthy, she caught a cab, yes?”

 “Yes, about an hour ago.”

 “Where to?”

 “Sir, I cannot answer-”

 “This is fucking urgent, please.”

 “Let me check.” The minutes it took for her to return felt like a lifetime, taking his phone out he attempted again to call you. There was no dial tone, straight to voicemail with your sweet voice filling his ears.

 “Sir, she mentioned going to ‘the set’. I don’t have an address.” Turning around a younger man spoke with a strong accent. The drive in the cab felt like it took hours, all Richard could do was think about your screams and fear the end result. You had both thought Nate was still flying to Croatia, the thought of him already being there hadn’t crossed your minds. Preparing himself, Richard got the number for the local emergency services ready. The taxi driver was surprised by the large amount of cash thrown his way, and the speed in which Richard ran from the taxi.

 The path to the trailers felt ten times longer than normal, they all looked alike bar the one with a door flung open and broken ff the hinges. Nothing but pure anger could have caused that amount of damage. Inside items were thrown around, the makeup stations upturned with glass shattered around the floor. Labored breathing drew Richards attention, he saw you face down attempting to drag yourself up the hallway with one arm while the other was held to your chest. Your face was cast down, not enough energy to lift it, your phone had been thrown toward the dressing room and you were desperate to get to it.

 “Everly!” Rushing to your side Richard pressed dial, “Ambulance please.” Helping you turn he was shocked by what he saw, your face was bloodied and swollen, you were hardly staying awake. Through one hardly open eye you could see Richard desperately speaking to someone, your ears were both ringing with no sound getting through to you. Stay awake, Everly, stay awake You screamed to yourself, shock and adrenalin were the only things masking the pain that would otherwise have you screaming if you had the capability to open your broken jaw to do so. Every ounce of energy had been used trying to fight back and trying to get to your phone, nothing was left in the tank to fight the heavy feeling taking over your body.

****

Two more chapters! This is only a short series but I’ll likely continue to write with the same OFC with Richard in other stories.

#richard madden #richard madden x ofc #richard madden fanfiction

[crewhonk]

... Of The Line (4 1/2)

Warnings: Piet is a little shit and we love him, violence, guns, overall battle warnings, jealous!Steve, steve sees YN naked ad has to pick out her underwear

Words: 3.6K-- I’m trying to break down my chapters a little more-- plus if i kept this all one part, it would have been 6k long lolololololol

Chapter summary: The team try and find Klaue ina n African ship yard, and Pietro seems to be having too much fun

A series collaboration with @nomadsgrogers where she writes for Giovanna as the reader! We’re just projecting onto our writing, its FINE

Series Summary: Steve watches YN Banner grow up before his eyes-- from a shy, dorky sixteen-year-old to a fierce, brilliant woman who never fails to keep him on his toes. He knows that she’s untouchable, but that doesn’t stop him from being completely wrapped around her finger for the rest of his long life. 

Series Warnings: Mutual Pining, age gap, gun use, these two are idiots-- seriously they're so dumb, slow burn

Pairings: eventual Steve Rogers X Banner!Reader, eventual Buky Barnes X OC!Stark

AN: PLEASE, PLEASE COMMENT AND LIKE AND REBLOG OUR WORK! We’re getting a little discouraged due to the recent lack of notes on this series!

Till The End Masterlist / Of The Line Masterlist

___

It was early the next morning when a new voice woke her up, her Scottish lilt comforting but unfamiliar. 

“Miss, Mr Rogers is at your door.” YN groaned, and shoved her face deeper in the pillow she was cuddling with. “Should I let him in?”

YN was a moment away from saying yes when she realized what her current state was. She shot up out of bed, blankets pulled around her naked body as she searched wildly around the room. 

“Um— tell him to give me a minute?” Her voice was shaking slightly with panic. “I just need to get ready.” She threw the blankets off of her body and cried out when her feet touched the floor. Damn it, she had almost forgotten she had run around barefoot last night while fighting— drunk-YN was a dumbass. 

“YN, are you okay?” She could hear Steve’s voice on the other side of the door and she wanted to laugh the loudest she had ever laughed before. Of course, she would be doing this right now. 

“I— yeah, I’m just. Not decent and can’t do anything about it.” She replied, tying her hair in a lopsided bun to try to get the greasy locks out of her face. The soles of her feet rocketed pain up to her knees and she cursed drunk her. 

“I’m coming in,” Steve said, barely giving her enough time to cover herself with her duvet before overriding the lock and walking in.

The sight before him would make any man's knees weak. YN Banner was in her bed, blanket wrapped barely around her thighs and chest, shoulders gleaming and bare. Her lipstick was smudged, eyeliner and mascara a cloud around her eyes, and her hair was messy and unkept. If Steve squinted he could picture her in a similar situation, instead, his blanket wrapped around her modesty— the light from his window warming her skin. 

“I— hi.” He said breathlessly, frozen in the doorway. 

“Hey, could you close the door please?” She grinned sheepishly and he fumbled into her room after doing so, looking anywhere but the woman in her bed and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. 

“I— where are your clothes? I’ll get them for you.” He offered and she desperately wanted the floor to swallow her whole. Sure, she could just pretend she was wearing anything at all and ask for a sweater and sweatpants but that would, in fact, be a lie and YN would find herself very uncomfortable the rest of the day. On the other hand, she would have to ask Steve Rogers to get her a pair of underwear and she knew that it was only three days before that she had thrown out all of her granny-panties in lieu of getting new ones. 

So, of course, it would be her lucky hat Steve would have to open the top drawer of her dresser and find pretty, soft underwear of all shapes and materials and oh, god couldn’t Ultron just crash through the window and kill her right now?

Not to be dramatic. 

“I— yeah, okay. Um, my fuck. My underwear is in the top drawer, and my long sleeves and sweatpants are in the drawer under that.” She flushed at the shock in Steve’s eyes and didn’t miss the way his gaze drifted over her bare thighs hungrily. 

“You’re not— okay I’ll just.” He tore his eyes from her and turned to her dresser, looking briefly over framed pictures of her with her apparent favourite people. There was a picture (there were more strung on the wall) of her and Giovanna at a concert, their hair wild and makeup dressed to the nines. Their mouths were open in song and stretched with smiles, hands raised in the air at praise of whichever artist it was. There was one of her and Natasha— a selfie, Steve learned— of them both in matching neon pink facemasks and cheesy smiles. There was one of young YN, side by side with her dad in what looked like a warzone— both of them smiling and holding dripping ice cream cones. Her and Tony, apparently playfully arguing in the lab, Tony with a look of shock on his face and Giovanna with an expression of pure unadulterated joy at the horror on YN’s face. There was a screwdriver in the wall next to Tony’s head. 

Then, there was another that shocked him— it was a picture of him and YN. They had been on vacation in Disneyland when she was eighteen. She had managed to coax him into not only wearing matching bright pink bedazzled Minnie Mouse ears but also to feeding him cotton candy from his back as payment for the piggyback ride he was currently giving her. The setting sun bathed them in an orange glow, and it made his heart soft looking at it. 

He shook his head, eyes flicking up to look at the picture once more before opening the top dresser drawer and feeling his skin fill with boiling water. Sure, he knew she was twenty one now, but he had never expected her to be wearing anything like this under her clothes. There was a rainbow of fabric in this drawer, all the underwear and bras different ranges of cotton and lace, and his hands shook as he picked up a light blue pair, sucking in a breath at the lack of fabric at the back and bundling it into a ball in his fist and out of mind. He grabbed the softest shirt and pants, next, rushing over to hand her the clothes and refusing to make eye contact by any means. 

She thanked him breathily and he swore under his breath as he followed her next orders and went to the bathroom, grabbing her makeup wipes and mouthwash and returning only when she gave him the okay. 

“You good to go?” His voice sounded distant over the blood rushing in his ears. At her nod, he handed her the StarkPad he was carrying and bent on one knee in front of her to allow her to climb like a monkey on his back. 

“Any updates?” She asked into his ear as they left her room. He had told her that Helen's cradle was ready for her and that they would meet together while the cradle did its magic. 

“Yeah, actually. It’s not good, but its a huge lead and we’ll probably be heading out tomorrow for another mission.” He hummed, jogging down the stairs and walking into the lab where everyone was waiting. With a little help, YN was placed into the cradle on her stomach, warmth spreading through her feet as the cradle did its magic work on her. 

Steve walked over to Tony once YN was situated and unlocked his tablet, handing it to him. 

“What’s this?” He asked, handing the pad to Natasha who clenched her jaw. 

“A message. Ultron killed Strucker.” He replied, and Natasha passed the picture over to Giovanna who raised her eyebrows and showed it to YN. 

“And he did a Banksy at the crime scene,” Giovanna commented, YN nodding slowly in agreement and her nose wrinkled. 

“That’s gross.” She mumbled. 

‘‘This is a smokescreen. Why send a message when you've just given a speech?” Natasha commented, taking a sip of the cup of coffee Clint had just arrived with. YN smiled gratefully as he placed an extra large cup in her hand, knowing that while the cradle was magic, it still sucked to have to use it. 

“Strucker knew something that Ultron wanted us to miss,” Steve grumbled. Of course, he would be beating himself up for this— for allowing their government agency to take him in rather than Steve doing it himself. If he had just done the work himself rather than following orders, this could have all been avoided. 

“Yeah, I bet he—“ Natasha rolled over to the computer and opened any files she could get her hands on, slouching when she found nothing. “Yep. Everything we had on Strucker has been erased.”

Giovanna walked over and sat in a low riding chair next to YN, taking a sip from her coffee and immediately gagging. 

“I don’t know why you keep trying coffee, you hate it so much,” YN whispered, amused as she watched her best friend chug the nearest water bottle. 

“I honestly don’t know either.”

“Not everything.” Tony had reappeared with a box of files in his hand, and the team stopped and groaned. It was another five minutes before boxes and boxes of files were brought in and lids tossed haphazardly around the room and the team skimmed files and papers relating to anyone even remotely related to Strucker. 

“Steve.” YN piped up as he went to pass her. “Bring me a box.”

“YN, you’re still injured.” Steve looked down at her and she groaned, flopping her forehead against the table under her. 

“Yeah on the opposite end of my brain. Give me a box, I want to help.” YN pleaded, and cheered when Giovanna returned with two boxes in her arms. Steve only rolled his eyes and huffed at YN’s cheer. 

“Didn’t you take notes during the meetings?” Giovanna asked, handing her a millennia folder. YN snorted, propping herself up on her elbows and flipping it open. 

“Yeah, along with notes about how great Steve’s ass looked during them. As if I would ever share them.” YN muttered, gaze drifting from her work to Steve who had made himself comfortable on a couch he and Thor had pulled from the far wall. 

“You’ll share them with me, though right?” Giovanna chuckled, throwing a piece of paper to the floor and picking up the next report. 

“Wanna do a girls night later? I’ll do a dramatic reading of them.” 

“You got it, Dude.”

Tony was pacing again and stopped to look over Bruce’s shoulder. He pulled the file from Bruce’s hands and let out a breath through his nose. 

“Wait. I know that guy— from back in the day. He operates off the African coast, black market arms.” Steve’s head shot up accusingly and Tony rolled his eyes. “There are conventions, alright? You meet people, I didn't sell him anything.”

“I made sure of that.” Giovanna piped up and Tony shot her a glance. 

“You weren’t even there. You were what, thirteen?”

“I went to Paris alone when I was ten and was back before you even knew I was gone, remember? Black market conventions in Africa were nothing.”

Tony jabbed a finger in her direction, and YN raised an eyebrow. “We are talking about this later.”

“I don’t actually need to listen to you, you know— I’m twenty-one now.” She smiled, propping her chin on her fist and shooting him with a mischievous smile that Tony knew would result in just a light chastising. 

“Anyways,” He continued with a glare shot toward Giovanna. “He was talking about finding something new, a game changer, it was all very ‘Ahab’.”

Thor pulled the paper from Tony's hands and nodded towards it. “This.”

“Uh, it's a tattoo. I don't think he had it—“ Tony replied, squinting around Thor’s arm. Yn held out her hand and wiggled her fingers, looking at the picture. There was a man in the picture— well built, grey hair, wide smile and smile lines to match. His skin was plastered with tattoos— some fresh and others bleached from the sun or scars. There was a mark on his neck, though. It was still pink and the skin around it was irritated and puckered. 

“No, those are tattoos, this is a brand.” She said. “ Looks like he’s not too good at making friends. It looks like a hieroglyphic?”

“What dialect?” Steve asked, and YN shook her head. 

“It doesn’t look quite like anything I’ve ever seen before. It looks central-west Africa, almost?” She replied and handed the paper to her dad who scanned the symbol. 

“It's a word in an African dialect meaning thief, in a much less friendly way.”

“Wakanada...? Wa…Wa…Wakanda?”

The word meant nothing to anyone in the room but Steve and Tony who had let their faces drop. Steve looked rather pale, and YN could feel her brows furrowing as they turned to each other. 

“If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods—“ Tony began, clenching his fists nervously. Even Giovanna, who was rarely concerned with her father's anxiety, knowing it was usually something he wanted to deal with himself, sat up straighter. Something was very, very wrong. 

“I thought your father said he got the last of it,” Steve said, turning his body away from the rest of the team and towards Tony. If his hunch was correct, this week was about to get a lot worse for everyone. 

“Can someone tell me what is going on?” Giovanna asked, her voice sharp. 

“What comes out of Wakanda?” Bruce asked, and Steve turned, picked up his shield and handed it to YN’s dad. 

“The strongest metal on Earth,” Steve said, his voice low and saturated with worry. He turned to Tony once more. “Where is this guy, now?”

____________________

The flight and fight in Africa was supposed to have been an easy one— quick. Take out a man who had nothing special to him, capture the twins, take out Ultron and then make it home before Chick-Fil-A closed. 

How very wrong they were. As soon as Steve had announced their arrival, both YN and Giovanna knew that this was going to go terribly wrong. Maybe it was the way that the girl was holding herself, or maybe it was the way that the boy was looking at YN like he wanted to take her to a closet and make her squeal (Steve didn’t like that look very much at all). Maybe it was the way Ultron’s left side was covered in blood with Klaue nowhere to be seen. 

“Something is wrong, here.” YN pressed her finger to her ear as she spoke into the comm system. None of the team on the ground floor made any more to acknowledge her statement but Natasha, who looked warily over to her and nodded in agreement. Something was very much off. Her worries were cut off by Ultron making a noise of disgust. 

“Captain America,” He sneered. “Gods righteous man. Pretending you could live without a war. I can’t physically throw up in my mouth but—“ YN didn’t hear what Ultron had to say next, as Giovanna had appeared by her side, hand gentle on her arm and coaxing her to stay by the doorway. Keeping YN from punching the face off of that damn robot. 

“Throwing punches before the plan starts won’t end well.” Giovanna's voice was sharp in her ear and YN only nodded, shoulders still tense and eyes burning into Ultron. 

“—Casue I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan—“ Ultron cut himself off by capturing Tony in a magnetic pull and throwing him to the metal wall just left of where the girls were hiding in the shadows. 

“Dad!” Giovanna cried, pulling her helmet over her head and launching herself at Ultron who almost giggled. 

“Human bonds— cute.” He said, punching her to the ground and through the metal bridge. It didn’t take long for YN to plunge off the edge after her best friend, finding her shaking herself of dust and rubble. 

“I’m going to kill him,” Giovanna growled, launching herself right back up the boat and kicking the large robot in the chest immediately after a blast from her father. There was a little pause between their attacks and YN would have to inform her best friend just how cool she looked in that moment. The blasts and kicks were quick— precise, and the rage seemed to seep out of the lines of her suit. 

“She’s pretty cool, huh?” The male twin appeared beside YN suddenly, and YN squealed and jumped, momentarily forgetting she was, in fact, in a fight for blood. She moved quickly, grabbing a pistol from her hip and a chained baton from her thigh. Her attacks seemed fruitless— he was much too fast and before she knew it, he was spinning the baton in the air, circling her. 

“You are very beautiful— brave, too.” He hummed, coming face to face with her. She growled, surprising him enough to land a kick to his chest and knocking the air out of his lungs.  She aimed her gun at his shoulder, narrowly missing as he sped to his feet. 

“If I was a normal man, I would surely be dead by now.” His voice crooned in her ear and her elbow moved quickly enough that it caught the tip of his chin. She heard his hiss in a breath—good, the steel-tipped elbow pads had been a good investment after all. 

“Not everyone can get a hit in on me, you know. The HYDRA agents were practically useless. The Soldat got close, but the metal arm was too clunky.” He commented absently and YN stopped long enough for him to throw her to the ground, pinning her and smiling down as he straddled her waist. 

“Bucky. Bucky trained you.” She whispered, breathlessly and the man rolled his eyes. 

“Sure, if that was his name. Angry. Ruthless. Only cared about missions— something I never understood. I always got distracted by the pretty girls.” He smiled, and YN swung her hips and legs forcefully, throwing him off of her and grabbing her other baton, turning it on and feeling the hum of electricity shoot pleasantly up her arm. 

“Do you always talk this much during a fight?” YN said breathlessly and swung, catching the tip of his finger and making him yelp and hold it to his chest. 

“Why do the most beautiful things in the world always come with the most painful bite. God’s greatest play if you ask me.” He then moved too quickly for YN to see his next attack, but it wasn’t unlike a speeding fist colliding with her jaw. YN fell to the ground in a heap and she spat out a fragment of a tooth and some blood, wiping her lip and stumbling to her feet. 

“Now, are you going to tell me your name?” He asked, faking concern and cradling her face briefly before she aimed a kick to his knees. 

“In your dreams, Buddy.” She snarled, aiming her gun and quickly firing three shots— all missing by a hairsbreadth. 

“I’m counting on it. And it is not ‘Buddy’.” He muttered, running around to her back and whispering into her ear. “It is Pietro Maximoff.”

And then he was gone. 

___________________

Steve had just barely caught the interaction, but he seemed to have gathered the gist of it. The Maximoff twin wasn’t afraid to get handsy and was incredibly quick on his feet. His charming smile shot in YN’s direction and making something akin to anger bubble in the pits of his heart and stomach. He hopped down, throwing his shield at the place where he once stood and catching it before running to YN’s side whose gaze darted quickly over the field. 

He came to stand in front of her, clutching her jaw gently in his hand and hushing her when she jumped. Her eyes and skin seemed to be glowing— stress and anger and something else simmering under her muscles. 

“YN. Are you okay?” He said softly but severely. Her gaze finally landed on him— his untouched face and still perfect uniform settling her. So long as he wasn’t hurt, she would be able to keep going. 

“Fine. I want to kick the twin in the teeth though.” She pushed Steve off of her— one part angry, two parts embarrassed at him seeing her lose that battle. He followed her, wrapped his hand around her forearm and spoke through his admiration of the fight still in her. 

“You watch the Starks and Thor’s sixes. I’ll take care of him.” He muttered and something in his eyes told her that there would be no argument in this. 

“Yes, Captain.” She turned away, leaving the ugly green monster who had reared its head a purring puddle of mush. 

______________________

The silver-haired boy wasn’t hard to find— he had been thrown into a pile of crates by the force (or pull) of Thor's hammer. He was stumbling blearily to his feet when Steve hit his chest with the flat of his shield a little too hard for necessity, sending him flying back to the Pietro-shaped hole in the boxes. 

“Stay down, Kid.” Steve’s voice was almost unrecognizable— rage boiled in his words. A flash of fear covered his face before Pietro followed his gaze to where YN had just taken out three bots all the while swinging from Giovanna’s free hand across the open air of the cargo ship. 

“She is your girlfriend?” His irritatingly suave voice called Steve’s attention back to him and all Steve wanted to do as climb on top of him and pummel his smirk to ash. 

“I don’t think it’s any of your fuckin’ business.” He continued, rolling his shoulders and puffing his chest out. The kid only rolled his eyes, standing in a flash and patting Steve’s shoulder. 

“She is beautiful. If you do not make a move, I will. Several quick ones I know she will like.” And with a high pitched giggle and a brush of air, Pietro was gone, leaving Steve about one hundred times more irritated than when he had first arrived. 

____________

Tags (open, send an ask): @i-am-always-famished / @filia-sapientiae / @somekryptonitewriting / @fashionlive15 / @godlymissbalor / @fanfictionjunkie1112 / @nerdy-bookworm-1998 / @songforhema / @army-crawl-andersen / @buckybarneshairpullingkink / @shynara51 / @deathofmissjackson / @a–1–1–3 / @liffydaze / @shymarvelfannanni / @freakpotterfan / @callie-bear15 / @sunflower-borhap-boys / @criedwolfwritings / @vxidnik / @captainomad / @lazinessisalliknow / jjlevin / @gwlaxygirl 

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers preference #steve rogers au #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut #steve rogers soulmate #steve rogers series #rogers series #Steve Rogers drabble #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #Steve Rogers x banner!reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes x stark!reader

[womenintranslation]

Q&A between Man Booker International Prize-winning translator Marilyn Booth and bookseller Natasha Gilmore

Here at the WiT Tumblr we’re big fans of the Women in Translation Book Club, the brainchild of bookseller Natasha Gilmore at Idlewild Bookstore in New York City. What began in February as an in-person gathering at the bookstore over bagels, muffins and coffee is now continuing its lively Sunday morning salon online. We recently caught up with the WiT Reading Club via Zoom for a  wide-ranging conversation about Omani writer Jokha Alharthi’s Celestial Bodies, translated from Arabic by Marilyn Booth, for which both Alharthi and Booth won the 2019 Man Booker International Prize. After the meeting, Natasha followed up by email with Marilyn Booth to ask her a few questions on how the translation came about, on women’s writing and women’s education in Oman, on the editing of her earlier translation of Girls of Riyadh (on this topic see our posts here and here), and much more. We were delighted that Marilyn responded in depth to these questions and that she also agreed to share them here on the WiT Tumblr. An additional shout-out to Natasha for organizing and hosting the Women in Translation Book Club! (If you’re interested in attending its next meeting on August 9th to discuss Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata, email natasha at idlewildbooks dot com for more details.)

Natasha Gilmore: How did Celestial Bodies come to the attention of the publisher, and why did they decide to publish it in translation? Did you have a hand in this at all?

Marilyn Booth: Jokha gave me a copy of her novel when she came to Edinburgh on a visit; she gave it to me both as an interested reader, and as a colleague – as a thank-you for helping her with the final stages of her PhD (we were both at University of Edinburgh then, although she was already back in Muscat). I found the novel intriguing and absorbing, and so I started exploring the possibility of translating it. As I’ve done with a few other works, I translated it without having a publisher, but there was some great help and serendipity along the way: my colleague at Edinburgh, Dr Elisabeth Kendall, suggested I seek support from the Anglo-Omani Society in London, which I did, and they were fantastic.

Understandably, people often assume that I was simply brought in as a translator. But that’s an assumption that doesn’t take into account the way translators work to promote literary works they believe are important. I wanted to translate the novel, and so I did it a bit recklessly, without a publisher. And then, by chance, I found the agent (Charles Buchan (Wylie) and I met at a literary event, and he has been amazing). Charles then found the publisher. Having finished the translation before that, I had tried for months to get a publisher: lots of them turned me down. (A few have written, since the prize, to congratulate us and to express their regret… they’ve been lovely.) We are thrilled that Sandstone published it – they were great, and because Jokha and I both have strong Scottish ties, we’re very happy that the centre of gravity for making the translation happen and then getting it published was our beloved Scotland.

I don’t necessarily recommend translating a novel without having a publisher lined up (!), but sometimes it happens. And because most publishers don’t have staff members to read Arabic fiction, they’re often hesitant to take something on spec, or an author who is unknown. In fact, in the case of Arabic literature, it’s often novels that have already been translated into French (most often – and there’s a lot more translation of Arabic works into French than into other European languages) that get a look-in – which means there is already a process of selection going on. And so my involvement happened first of all through conversations with Jokha, and then encouragement and help from others. Like so many good things in this world, it is about collective work, conversation, mutual care.

I think it is important for readers to recognise that translators play a huge role in bringing works to publication – we are often the advocates who pressure publishers to take this or that. In the process, we do a lot of unpaid work: doing samples (sometimes paid for), writing pitches and draft introductions, translating press reviews. Otherwise, often they wouldn’t have a clue (obviously that is truer of some publishers than others). We do a lot more than translate. We advocate, we are bridges, we promote work. Since I’m not a full time translator, I can’t do as much of that as I would like to do. I think (or in some cases, I know) that lots of translators play this role. It would be good to put our heads together more and think about how we could help each other – some groups of translators do already do this, for sure, and one of the things I love about being a translator is the affirmation and mutual support that I feel from other translators.

I’ve translated quite a number of works of Arabic literature over the years (I think by now the count is about 17 novels, memoirs and short story collections, more or less). But I’ve never been a full-time translator, so it’s usually been a matter of feeling very strongly about wanting to spend time on a particular text. This is a huge privilege! I did have some years as an unemployed scholar—mostly by choice, as most of that time I was a full time parent—where my interest in texts was matched by my interest in income, although the two didn’t always match up in practice.

Although I have translated works by brilliant women and brilliant men both, I do also have a sense of commitment to the challenge of getting Anglophone readers to recognise that long-enduring stereotypes about gender – about women but also, frankly, about men – are just wrong. So the works I gravitate towards, whoever the author is, are likely to respond to that need, though in varied and often subtle ways. One way to deal with this imbalance (and the continuing stereotypes about gender in ‘the Middle East’ that are so tenacious amongst Euro/American audiences, despite so much evidence to the contrary) is to publish and publicize more of the fantastic works that women have been writing in Arabic since the late 19th century. (A lot of my research writing is about that 19th century energy.) But also, to think about how central issues of gender are to Arabic fiction, whoever the author is. And how thoughtful the takes on this are. For instance, two other recent novels I have translated, Hassan Daoud’s The Penguin’s Song (City Lights) and No Road to Paradise (American University in Cairo Press/Hoopoe), are wonderfully interesting in this regard, in their representations of masculinities.

Gilmore: Some of the group members read your piece on Girls of Riyadh, and wondered if you encountered any issues in edits of your translation of a social or political nature?

Booth: No, in this case, the author and I work in fantastic harmony (there were a few things the editor wanted to change and because Jokha and I agreed – ‘no’, we both said – we were able to prevail. There were also some changes the editor proposed that we agreed ‘yes’ to; the editor was excellent, light-touch, respectful - there was mutual respect all around.)

The problem with Girls of Riyadh was that the author didn’t appear to be willing to work with me. In that case, it was the press (Penguin) that had brought me in. I was not advocating for that novel to the press – although I really supported that novel and I still do. I felt very sad about what happened because I still believe it is such an innovative and interesting novel, and it deserves the respect I tried to give it by translating it innovatively. The translation as the author changed it didn’t reflect the innovative, edgy, and often funny (seriously funny) quality of the original. If the author had said, “Hey, I’m not comfortable, can we talk?” I would have certainly been ready to negotiate. There were things I did in the translation that I would have been happy to tone down. But that didn’t happen. It was a very upsetting experience for me. And I’m sad. Girls deserved to have an edgy translation that would convey the edginess of the original.

There have been occasional insinuations that somehow I was vulnerable to this because of not being familiar with Saudi culture. I think this is ridiculous. It is true that I noted to the editor from the start that there were a few usages I would want to ask the author about; there were about five; the author answered one question, and then said she was busy with her exams, which is certainly a valid reason to postpone responses. But the things the author changed were not matters of Saudi culture; they were lines of Lebanese poetry, references to region-wide culture icons, and characters’ language. These were not the items I needed help with. And it is normal – it is usual – for a translator to consult with an author. It’s also (I believe) a mark of respect to do so, as long as the author doesn’t mind being contacted. It’s certainly not a sign of weakness or vulnerability! Any translator or reviewer or author who believes that must live in a different universe.

Most of the authors I’ve translated have been truly respectful of my work – of my different kind of creative writing, in bringing their work into English. In general, I’ve had really great relationships with authors – working relationships and then, often, friendships resulting from that work. A number of the wonderful writers I’ve translated over the years have become truly close friends, some of them for many years now. (And one of them, Sahar Tawfiq in Cairo, has translated and is translating my academic work into Arabic. Fantastic partnership! I feel so fortunate.) It’s a very intimate thing, translating someone’s work – so perhaps, in many cases, it either results in wonderful closeness or in a terrible break-up. I wonder if that is the experience of many literary translators? I do know from conversations with other translators, and from some of the wonderful translator memoirs published over the past decade or so, that very close affective relationships have been forged through translation. It is such a precious thing. I’d love to hear from other translators on this. (At one point, I started doing some research on first author-second author [ie translator] relations, it would be really good to resume this, somehow.)

Gilmore: Why did you elect to change the title?

Booth: Jokha and I have been challenged strongly on this, by interlocutors who either read the novel in Arabic or could have read it in Arabic. I think that is because the title in Arabic is brilliant—but it just doesn’t translate into English. A literal translation would be Ladies/mistresses/matrons of the moon. None of those terms conveys what the Arabic sayyidat can convey: a lot of authority and dignity. (It is also an ironic term in that some of the strongest female characters in the novel would not have ever been considered sayyidat). It is a beautifully ambiguous and resonant title in Arabic, carrying so many associations, and there is no way to make those shades of meaning come through into English within any closely ‘literal’ title. I tried loads of combinations/spins, but nothing worked. So the English title loses some of the meaning of the Arabic but I think that it gains in other ways, which some readers have mentioned, appreciatively.

Gilmore: Do you have a sense of what women in Oman are writing about right now?

Booth: Yes, they’re writing what women are writing about everywhere. Politics of the family, racism and inequality, complex histories of colonial encounter and how they intersect with political contestation more locally, and the various kinds of abuse that arises from all of these. And also love and connection and closeness. Of course, I have not read everything! And I cannot do so, given that my work life is also about teaching and research (which focuses on topics very far from contemporary writing, though there are a lot of shared connections). One thing that is great about Jokha’s novel getting the Man Booker International is that Oman has not been a literary ‘centre’ in terms of fiction (it has a long and wonderful history of poetry composition). Now, Omani literature is possibly getting more attention. There’s a lot of great fiction being written across the entire region, in Arabic. I wish we could get more of it translated. More support for translation—that is what we need. Also more support for translating not just ‘the latest thing’ but novels, short stories, poetry, that came out earlier. There are works from the 1970s I would love to translate, if only publishers were interested.

Gilmore: Are there any concrete literary traditions that the book draws from? There are so many allusions and references, but I also wondered if even the structure of the book was drawn from an Arabic literary tradition?

Booth: Well, one could speculate that it draws from the ‘embedded stories’ structure that is famously evident in the Thousand and One Nights – but I think every culture has a version of this (and let’s not forget that the development of the novel in Europe is also shaped by storytelling, picaresque traditions far to the east of Europe, including the Nights). Jokha’s work is inflected by the very long poetic tradition in Arabic, and specifically in the Arabian peninsula, a tradition she grew up with. What other specific traditions or writers she may draw on, every reader can wonder about. Any writer brings so many different readings to their work.

Gilmore: Do you have a sense of how the book was accepted in Oman?

Booth: It had won a prize in Arabic, long before the Man Booker, so it was lauded and it got notice. But it also was criticized quite a lot (before and after earning the Man Booker), for taking on the historical legacy and hugely sensitive issue of slavery. Some Omanis didn’t think this ought to be portrayed, as a part of Omani history that they argued was long in the past, in terms of the empirical history of slavery. But of course the past is always part of the present. Jokha’s attitude is that this history is Omani history, and that this legacy shapes Omani society to this day. Therefore, it ought to be talked about. Despite these disagreements, the novel getting the prize has been celebrated in Oman. Jokha has been asked to do so much. We’re both thrilled but it is hard to deal with the demands of it all, given our full time work as teaching academics. Also, like me, she’s not someone who likes the limelight …. We are both rabbits in the headlights.

Gilmore: What was literacy and access to literature and education for women in Oman, particularly in the period of the book? Were women educated up to a certain age? Was education and literacy encouraged for women? Was access a class issue?

Booth: Definitely a class issue though also an urban/rural issue. Very much encouraged in Jokha’s family. And now – and since 1970 – a strong priority nationally, education for both boys and girls. (We sometimes forget that in places where girls’ literacy wasn’t high, boys’ wasn’t either – though yes there is always an imbalance. This is part of what I work on in my research on 19th-century Egypt.) There’s been a lot of great work on the history of girls’ education and women’s activism in the Gulf generally – for instance, recently, a lot of documentation of the history of women’s work in the Emirates, and some memoirs coming out. But it is also important to keep in mind, next to formal education, the ways women have created and fostered narratives, histories, and have passed them on – a different kind of knowledge, or of education, that has always been there.

Gilmore: What was the last book you read for pleasure that you loved?

Booth: Oh that is a difficult question right now! I’ve been struggling with teaching on line, it has been a true challenge, though the students have been wonderful and we’ve tried to struggle through it together. And also, I have to read for my teaching and research (reading which is mostly if not always a pleasure, too). I have not been doing a lot of reading recently that is unconnected to that (too tired! Too cross-eyed from reading on line!). But, I return often to 19th century English-language and French-language fiction (as well as fiction in Arabic). Most recently, I was rereading Maria Edgeworth. I think she is fantastic and should be better known. Ennui is amazing (not an easy read, affectively!).

Also, I hugely recommend Kate Manne’s book Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny. Not an easy read, but an important and beautifully written, wise, engaging and (horrifically) important book for this time. I have a huge stack of books to read, fiction and non-fiction ….

#marilyn booth #natasha gilmore #jokha alharthi #celestial bodies #girls of riyadh #women in translation #idlewild bookstore

[strafethesesinners]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you. Learn more about your mutuals and followers 💕✨

Thank you!! I answered one but I’ll do 5 more things!

1. Thinking/talking about my OC Cooper. 

2. Just actively having ideas for things to draw or write when I hadn’t before for literal years due to mental illness. 

3. When someone makes food for me. I can cook for myself but it’s so nice when you come home from work and you’re all tired and someone’s like “hey I got you.” 

4. When people reblog and make comments on either my art or writing! Or even a shitpost or meme, but especially the other things.

5. My dog Jasper! He is a scruffy little Scottish Terrier mix and he is so goofy. 

Edit: picture of Jasper under cut

[awestedevelopment]

tagged by: taken from my height twin / @marsdin​. tagging: do the thing.

nickname: west.

real  name: i don’t have any issues with sharing my actual name, i just prefer to talk to whomever i’m talking to on a regular basis / have a connection with said person. plus, remaining as my alias helps remind me that this isn’t my actual life.

zodia: gemini.

height: 4′9 - hey up to the small squad.

what  time is it ?: 10:47am.  

favourite  musician/group:  right now it’s banners.

favourite sports team: my own hockey team ?? if not, rangers fc.

other blogs: @intelligenceunit @cursedlines, @bichazards & a few more.

do i get asks ?: not often. i do get some from close mutuals when i reblog memes, but not really outside of that.

how many blogs do i follow ?: 473.

any  tumblr crushes ?: @stayliquid, @futuressaved, @thexhoodedxvigilante, @smoakiism, @alwaysforcver, @gloriousxdarkness, @soulsettled, @writermoore, @nosestealer, @legatium, @dcnouement, @fortitudina, @noctuirne & a shit ton more.

lucky number: 25.

what am i wearing right now ?: black adidas shorts, a white tank top and a jumper that says sweatshirt sundays.

dream vacation: new york, the northern lights & i know i went there last year but, honestly, hungary again.

dream car: one with wheels ??

favourite food: pizza and cheese & tomato toasties.

drink of choice: lemon diluting juice & pepsi max raspberry.

languages: english, scottish slang & i’m currently learning hungarian.

instruments: self taught in guitar.

celebrity crushes ?: chyler leigh, matt lanter, katie cassidy, jesse lee soffer, tracy spiridakos, nicole maines.

random fact: the only time i sit on a chair is when i’m within a professional setting or in a vehicle. every other time, i’m on the floor, on the chair of a couch or on a counter. 

#* ☸ 𝐈. 𝐎𝐎𝐂 ⪼ WESTISMS. #all my mutuals are tumblr crushes tbh #but those ones specifically are special to me