sat here thinking we were robbed from having a full-length movie of Orchids (2006) and Serena (2012) like?? Alfred Molina as a leading romantic interest?? sign me up 😭👏
#congratulations #DanielLee & @burberry team @BURBERRY #24 🖤🇬🇧
theestallion:
My first @nike collection is OUT NOW 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 get it while it’s hot hotties because it’s almost all SOLD OUT !!! I can’t wait to see yall in it ❤️🖤
regejean:
BAFTA NIGHTS
@giorgioarmani
@longines
@holly_macnaghten
johnboyega:
Night out with big sis 💕
@burberry by Daniel Lee Winter 2024
📸: @lloydpursall
kellyrowland:
Mea Culpa Press Run
💙💙💙💙💙💙💙
“Mea Culpa” out Feb.23rd
THIS FRIDAY!!!
bookertfivex:
One Team. One Dream.
colewalliser:
VICTORIA MONET! I’m always a fan of shooting couples on The GlamBOT but not often is the double a mother and daughter! Victoria was awesome and Hazel was so cute! Though I think she might have been a bit overwhelmed so I tried to use my inside voice when directing this one, opposed to my typical red carpet screaming lol. This one is fun, hopefully I’ll get to shoot the two of them next year! #victoriamonet #colewalliser #glambotbts #livefrome #grammys
@senshixshitennouweeks this one's a touch spicy. Enjoy
His hands were hot against the skin of her stomach. Like lightning from God.
“Father,” she moans, “we… we can’t…”
“Can’t we?”
He buried his face in her hair and inhales and already, Lita feels herself succumbing.
How she got into this position?
Only God knew.
She’d first heard that they were getting a new priest in their parish, she’d paid it no mind. Another dusty old scarecrow of a man, here to cast a judgmental eye on anyone who didn’t spend half the day praying and the other half toiling while he quoted scripture.
Their last priest, Father Altman, had been particularly stern and nosy in regards to other peoples’ family business.
Rumor had it that finding out about one of the alter boys skipping church to go fishing had led to a rage-induced heart attack.
Which was how he was sent to the little town of Crossroads as the late Father Altman’s replacement.
Father Stanton. When he’d stopped her in the street, asking directions, she’d been gob smacked by this chiseled adonis.
He was… so different from what she knew of priests.
He was American, by all accounts, having served as a chamberlain for the Navy before being sent here to spread God’s word.
A broad, bear of a man, a head above her in height with his long thick hair bound behind him as he walked the length of the village, sometimes stopping by her own tavern and chatting up some of the regulars.
He’s particularly friendly with the town doctor, that dark-haired gent that Serena somehow managed to charm into marriage.
Marriage.
Something she’d often dreamed of, but always seemed to slip through her fingers. She was only human, after all. Was it a sin to desire human companionship?
Even when the companion she most desired was a man of the cloth?
He brought her back to the present, when one of his hands leave her stomach and cups one of her breasts.
“God be praised,” he whispered, “for making you so perfect.”
She’d caught what seemed to be him staring at her during one service too many. At first, Lita had brushed it off as being a coincidence, but Stanton’s eyes seemed drawn to her wherever she sat in the pews.
And his gaze had begun following her when he visited her tavern as well.
It wasn’t anything, she’d tell herself. How could a priest hold any romantic inclination towards anyone Earthly?
Things had only become worse when she had delivered some freshly baked bread to the church as an offering. As she was walking to meet him halfway down the aisle, she tripped on a loose tile and fell forward. She was preparing to meet the floor; she knew how to fall and pick herself up, she'd done it before.
Except he’d caught her.
Lita knew she was one of the tallest people in Crossroads. One of the strongest, too, if her consistent winning of town sporting events was anything to go on.
And yet, this man caught and set her back onto her feet as if she weighed no more than a basket of eggs.
And he was just as careful with her.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
Shame made itself comfortable between her lungs and stomach and stayed there as she studied his features up close.
Deep brown eyes, boring into her own green, a hint of stubble that she wonders how it would feel under her fingers, and the definition of muscle beneath his habit.
Pushing away from him, she ran from the church, cheeks blazing and didn't see him again until the next night, when he sat in her tavern, his gaze following her as she worked the bar.
In spite of the tension from having him there, she couldn’t bring himself to make him leave. She’d chased her fair share of unwanted patrons out but…
This was different.
He was the last to leave and as she cleans the table of the meagre meal that he’d ordered for himself that she finds the note under his plate.
We must speak tonight. Come to the church at nine o’clock.
She should ignore the message. Cut him out of her life and ignore his piercing gazes during the next Sunday service.
She arrived at the church to find him kneeling before the alter in prayer.
“Why did you run?”
His voice echoed off the pews and walls and Lita felt acutely aware of how… isolated the two of them were. No witnesses. None save the almighty.
“What?”
He rose from his position and turned to face her, the candlelight casting his features in stark relief with the shadows.
“Why did you run?” he repeated, “the night before. When I caught you?”
Father Stanton covered the space between them with those massive strides of his that she knew could keep pace with her own. Lita swallowed a lump in her throat, not sure why.
“Did I do something to offend you?” he asked.
Yes, you made me lust after you was what she wanted to say. She wanted to tell him to stop making her think about a man of the cloth like this and let her go back to her own little life again.
Her life before he came.
“You didn’t do anything,” she said at last.
“Then why did you run?”
“Because… I felt guilty…”
“Guilty of what?”
He was too close. Within an arm’s reach. She shouldn’t be thinking about what it would be like if he took her into his arms.
She turned away.
“Whatever you say to me will remain between us.”
And God, she thinks. God knows them better than they know themselves. She musters her courage and hopes that her acknowledgement does not lead to something else.
“I… had impure thoughts.”
His pause was almost too much to bear. Finally, he spoke.
“Thoughts of what?”
He sounded even closer now and she prayed for integrity.
“Me?”
Her silence answers for her.
“Do you know why I was sent here?”
Honestly, she had never given it much thought. She had assumed he had been sent because their priest was dead and needed a replacement.
“Because the last bishop I served under was convinced I had broken my vows.”
Broken vows? No-one had ever mentioned that before. What had he done to warrant his former bishop’s ire?
“Did you?” Lita asked.
Another long pause.
“I wanted to… but I didn’t”
“Why not?”
“Because I felt it wasn’t worth it.”
The air felt electric. It was somehow both sweltering and too cold to stand, not when Father Stanton was so close to her. She needed to get out of her. Back to the safety of her home.
Only, did she really want to? He had admitted his own weakness when he was supposed to be above such things.
“Can a man be Godly,” Father Stanton asked, “even when the temptations of earth beckon?”
“What temptations?” she asked, her heart thundered in her chest.
“A woman,” he said, “as beautiful as a winter rose.”
She wants to ask him what he means, to give voice to the questions that are just rewordings of a single query.
But it’s too late. His arms tenderly encircle her waist and his lips press against her neck.
Thoughts of God were soon gone, replaced with other less heavenly thoughts.
Yes. Touch me. Caress me. It's been too long.
And as she returned the kisses of the Father, melted at the nearly bruising passion of his touch, Lita wondered if he could deliver her to rapture this very night.
Was this wrong?
Those were concerns for later, she thought as his hands dipped between her legs.
Is it known how old Kirika and Shirabe were when enrolled by the FIS? Serena looked like a toddler so it's easy to eyeball Maria's age when enrolled in consequence but for these two it seems harder
This is a good question that I unfortunately can only answer by taking a guess from what we've been given
Going by the anime, if we assume these shots from a flashback in GX 3 were all at the same time and they were actually in the same room together:
...That would make Shirabe and Kirika at most 8 and 9 there, respectively (since Serena died when they were that age), but it could be before that.
The keywords don't say anything on the subject
Official material outside of the anime? I hesitate to include any of that, but Shirabe Meshi shows all four of them together at the FIS at one point:
Of course, Shirabe Meshi was said by Kaneko to take place in a different world than the main series, which makes sense with everyone being alive the way they are. It's possible the timeline was slightly different, idk.
The thing with the Nephilim still happened there so this would still be before that, but Serena didn't die, she just got so badly injured she was frozen until they had the means to treat her later (like in XDU)
And XDU isn't canon to the anime so take this one with a grain of salt, but it has a line by the priest at Tsuki Shrine that the car accident that took his granddaughter happened "around 10 years ago." If the implication that Shirabe is the granddaughter is actually the case, then that would mean she was 5 or so
Hero of Truth, Hilbert Blackburn
Hero of Ideals, Nate Blake
The Heart, Cheren Slater
Warrior of Truth, Hilda Weiss
Warrior of Ideals, Hugh Obsidian
Scholar of Truth, Bianca Alabaster
Scholar of Ideals, Rosa Whitefield
The Priest, N Harmonia Gropius
The Doctor, Nikolai Colress / Acro Cogita
👑 Unova's League :
The Woodcutter's Apprentice, Cilan Clockworker
The Angler's Apprentice, Cress Clockworker
The Blacksmith's Apprentice, Cress Clockworker
The Archivist, Lenora Magnolia
The Artist, Burgh Barlowe
The Seamstress, Elesa Starling
The Prospector, Clay Tamagawa
The Adventurer, Skyla Vale
The Phantom, Brycen Ryder
The Captain, Drayden Dragul
The Musician, Roxie Fenton
The Seafarer, Marlon Salvador
The Enchantress, Shauntal Del Rosario
The Gambler, Grimsley Slater
The Princess, Caitlin Bloomingdale
The Successor, Marshal Redwood
The Heir, Benga Redwood
The Heiress, Iris Chibana
The Lorekeeper, Alder Redwood
The Moon's Chronicler, Ingo Graystone
The Sun's Chronicler, Emmet Graystone
✖️ Team Plasma + Order of The Heart :
The False Prophet, Ghetsis Harmonia Gropius
The Eye of Love, Anthea Harmonia Gropius
The Eye of Peace, Concordia Harmonia Gropius
The Agent, Zinzolin Ryder
The Agent, Godfrey Rood
The Eye of Love, Yancy Rosewood
The Eye of Peace, Curtis Greenville
The Shadow, Uno
The Shadow, Dos
The Shadow, Tres
🔖 Gym Guides :
Waitress Tia of Striaton
Scientist Satomi of Nacrene
Harlequin Jack of Castelia
Lady Colette of Nimbasa
Clerk Katie of Driftveil
Pilot Chase of Mistralton
Black Belt Thomas of Icirrus
Veterans Kim and Ron of Opelucid
Gentleman Clyde of Aspertia
Guitarist Billy Jo of Virbank
Ace Trainer Santino of Humilau
🧪 Scientists :
The Counselor, Audrea Juniper
The Wiseman, Cedric Juniper
The Analyst, Fennel Dreamer
The Prodigy, Amanita Dreamer
🩸 Family :
Harper Blackburn
Lillith Slater
Noland Slater
Blanche Alabaster
Silas Alabaster
Marianne Blake
Hitoshi Obsidian
Giselle Obsidian
Aya Obsidian
Sabrina Starling
Roxas Fenton
Kuroba Amano
Norman Slater
Cynthia Cogita
The Witch, Nikola Cogita
🌏 Friends and Allies of Other Regions :
The Hero of Life and Death, Calem Laflamme
The Heroine of Life and Death, Serena Cendrine
The Gravekeeper, Augustine Sycamore
The Philantropist, Lysandre Donnadieu
The King of Kalos, Azriel Donnadieu
We are very excited to announce Holding Court, a special auction in partnership with @joopiterofficial featuring four never-before-seen works by Ernie Barnes in support of the Yetunde Price Resource Center.
Ernie Barnes is an iconic Black artist my family and I have long admired. Through his vibrant imagery, he envisioned a colorful world of harmony between all communities, backgrounds, and races. All proceeds from the sale of these amazing works will help fund and provide vital resources to those affected by violence in Compton and underserved communities across the country. Unity and community are two of the most important pillars the Yetunde Price Resource Center stands on, and we are excited to partner with JOOPITER on the Holding Court auction to continue to support families and individuals in need.
Holding Court is open for global online bidding now at JOOPITER.com with the auction closing on Tuesday, August 1st, at 9am PT.
Frost magic, plants for healing, and a fucking pet bear.
Total Serena druid vibes
funnily enough, Druids are my least favorite WoW class lmfao
I love me a mistweaver monk, discipline priest, and holy pally. in that order of favorites, actually.
fuck resto Druids though. I hate their healing style. fuck all ya stupid little HoTs, I’m just gonna constantly dispel everything you cast on yourself and your targets and watch as the DPS beats y’all’s asses for me 💅🏻
Serena's hands were bound tightly in ropes as she was led before the crowd. Their cheers and cries, frothing with anger bombarded on all sides, their much too loud voices grating with each and every step forward. Never mind the fact it would have been trivial to break the ropes that bound her, but that would only serve to prove them right. Her steps were guided by the forlorn looking guards that held her by the shoulders, just barely missing the fabrics of her coronation gown and sparing them the wrinkles and stains. At least for the moment.
The scent of blood and snow leeched from every part of the castle and the surrounding town, even to the point where a standard human could smell it. It reeked of the pain and suffering that had occurred that night, all of it eventually leading back to the fault of her own. For what did these folk know? A few traders stumbled into town to barter and found the village littered with bodies and her covered in blood. The call to the Church was swift, especially once it was discovered the king was dead and the queen was missing. All that remained was one, blood soaked, miserable looking princess with the eyes of a beast and skin marred with black veins. The only survivor, the sick one, the two had to be related. And on some level, she couldn’t refute them. Her existence was the cause. So it made full sense that despite her mother’s doing, she pay the price. Her mother was already dead, after all. She got off easy, as she always did.
Now the Church was ready, it didn’t take long for them to get the execution stand ready, nor any time to find those willing to stand witness to what would be a gristly deed. The Will of the People was not the kindest way to go, but such were the costs of betraying them as a monarch. The Church of the Northern Lights was already pining to take over, they finally got their chance with this. No other heirs would dare stand up after what was going to be told of this day. She would die the last royal in Glacidea. Somehow, that didn’t bother Serena. They never knew her, and she wasn’t allowed to visit them to any quality due to her “illness.” So it seemed they were never meant to be, and crowns shouldn’t be passed to those who are unworthy. Certainly not murderers, despite the history books.
Still, she was a princess until death, and she would carry herself as such. Walking up the stairs to the awaiting podium, she held her head high, eyes filled with remorse and softness as best as she could manage, in spite of the grip of anger holding over her heart; alongside the grief and regret. She wasn’t enough, and now she would pay that debt with this action. Ravens circled overhead, the Silent One no doubt watching from within their eyes, waiting for his opportunity to collect what was rightfully his. The high priest rambled on words, things to jeer the crowd, but she couldn’t focus on them. No, the scent of blood around was too great, the cries of the people too loud, and the pain in her heart too strong.
It was a while before words were spoken with any clarity, and the high priest’s voice finally stuck in her ear. “And so now we must act in the way of our forefathers, that the Will of the People be restored and strike down this insolent, aggressive, and homicidal princess. Born with the world at her fingertips, and yet she couldn’t wait to take the crown for herself, committing regicide and countless acts of violence for her own gain. Such deceit inside this small, trembling form. Do not let it fool you. The Precious Living are better, deserve better than to be ruled by such viciousness.” He gestured broadly with an arm, cueing a guard to push her forward. “Speak your words, your highness, it is the last chance between you, them, and the gods.”
Serena took only a moment to look over the crowd, the call of her blood starting to boil up as it realized what was only seconds away. She beat it back with a deep breath, and gentle step forward. Now, for the first, and last, time she was allowed to address her people, it was the least she could do to offer the decorum of her father, and in some way have him live on in their minds, her shyness be damned. “I wills speak only of an attempt to prevent a worse fate for all of you, my fair people. I cannot prove any claims made, for I alone am the last witness. However, let it be known that I pray to all the great gods, particularly the blessed Xer’hana, that I stopped the doom that was coming for you all should I have fallen before I was found. King Valenfir was great and wise, though he could not see the fault lines growing under the soil of this country. Unfortunately, I pay the price for that sight. Blessed be he in the beyond, and may he rest easy.” She stopped a tear from forming in her eye with another breath, lest her true nature be seen, and continued.
“I do not, and will not, beg for mercy or a pardon. I see you do not want me, and as the will of the people guides the instrument that shares the same name, I am ready to meet the Adamsa Frisay.” A few winces rippled through the crowd, particularly from those in the Church, at the mention of the Silent God’s name, but none interrupted her. “I apologize for not serving my duties better. Blessed be those who walk in my shadow, once it is long gone.”
The crowd was silent, save for the beating of hearts and heavy breathing in the cold air. She had made her point, and without aid from the guards, she stepped up to the podium, laying her back flat against its cold, vertical surface. The high priest, with mouth agape, lost composure for the faintest of seconds, but recovered smoothly enough. His wrinkled hands opened the box held by his associating priestess, pulling out the jewel studded implement used to strike down foul kings and queens many times before her. To literally drive the Will of the People into the heart of a monarch was a direct statement. One few could deny had inherent power. Yet here the youngest of its victims stood ready and without fear of the stake.
His other hand gripped a hammer, and with a sharp voice he spoke the final words of all those who found themselves afoul of that Will. “The people of Glacidea have spoken, you and your kin have lost rights to this land and this throne. This world will be far better without you. May the gods have more mercy that we do.”
The point was placed over her heart, and Serena exhaled slowly. Unnecessary, but the final action felt right. Closing her eyes, a placid expression crossed her face despite the rage in her blood. She felt the priest’s muscles tense, and shortly after the first strike of the stake. Pain jolted through her, refreshing in waves with each strike. Finally, darkness was all she knew.
(OC-tober prompts by @oc-tober2023 can be found here.)