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rachelbethhines · 3 years

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Tangled Salt Marathon - The Return of the King

So we’re back to the quasi-filler stuff. This episode does set a few things up for the finale, like bringing Edmund to Corona, but none of those things are actually good and it’s still mostly filled with irrelevant shit alongside the more important stuff.

Summary: King Edmund arrives in Corona to see his long-lost son, Eugene, and to give him the royal sash of their bloodline. Eugene wants nothing to do with him, but Rapunzel invites him to stay. Later, the sash is stolen and a ransom note is left behind. Edmund and Eugene decide to go and retrieve it. Meanwhile, the Stabbington Brothers plot revenge on Eugene as they are both viewed as a joke by the other criminals.

So How Did the Stabbingtons Escape the Prison Barge

Last we saw them they were stuck on a prison barge along with Lady Caine and all of the other season one villains. How did they escape? Did Lady Caine or anybody else make it out? If so then where are they this season?

We’re not going to get any of those questions answered are we?

Man this is just sloppy continuity. Which ironic, because these two were only brought back this season because of continuity. They need to be “redeemed” so that they can be at the wedding. I guess it just sucks to be you if you’re an original villain for this show and not named Cassandra.

Why Is This Deserving of Ridicule?

Like...We’re talking about a world renowned thief and adventurer and his magical royal girlfriend who are well known enough outside of Corona to be mentioned and there for no doubt people know how they both defeated monsters, daemons, and several criminals besides just there two guys, right?

This plot point makes no sense.

You could just kick these dumbasses butts and be done with it. I doubt they’d bother picking on you again if you did.

Did we really need even more motivation for them to want revenged against Eugene?

Rapunzel is Back to Being Her Bossy Self

Rapunzel has not earned the role of “wise administrator” yet. She’s only been out of the tower for two years now and she has yet to prove to the audience that she has managed to learn anything since then. By jumping the gun and forcing her into a role that she hasn’t grown into, and by ignoring that this whole show started out as a coming of age story, it just makes Rapunzel unpleasant to be around. All her “advice” is just her ordering people about with a veneer of chipperness to try and mask her controlling nature. People who should know more about their own lives than she does and have no reason to listen to her.

So We’re Showing Rapunzel Being Responsible... By Having Her Avoid Responsibility?

Part of why the writers made her “acting queen” for the first half the season was to get her to grow into the role of becoming full time queen. However they screwed this up by not having her actually learn anything and having her avoid the real duties a queen preforms.

What Rapunzel is doing her is just being a socialite busybody. The only administrative thing she does is approve some low-scale building plans for a small business. A thing that would have been handled by a lower official in an actual functioning government.

Once again Rapunzel is being selfish and doing what she like, ie bossy people around while having them kiss her ass, as the real work of running the kingdom is left to someone else. This isn’t being responsible, it’s being hypocritical, but don't expect anyone to ever call Rapunzel out for this.

Pointless Action Scene is Pointless

At this point, the low stakes action sequences are just cringe. Like is this an adventure show or not people? Stop forcing crap like this and give us some real conflicts instead.

How Did You Get Here So Fast Edmund?

It took Rapunzel and company nearly a year to get to the Dark Kingdom. Even if Edmund wasn't delayed with pit stops like they were, it would have still taken him several months to get here by horse.

Did he take a boat, or have four to six months already past since Rapunzel’s Return?

I would argue that this episode was aired out of order and should have been later in the season, but Cassandra’s appearance at the end of this story, and Hamnuel’s appearances in later episodes, would suggest otherwise.

Crap like this is why season’s three timeline doesn’t work unless you stretch everything out to two years instead of one.

Read the Room Rapunzel

One could argue that Rapunzel is just trying to be polite, but that doesn't really hold water.

For starters Eugene is clearly upset and has every right to want to set boundaries between himself and Edmund. Ignoring that is incredibly rude and if my significant other ever did such a thing, well they wouldn’t be my significant other for very long.

Secondly, Rapunzel could have offered other accommodations if she felt pressured to be polite to Edmund. Not only are their lots of inns in a port town known for trade, many of which are probably well-to-do, but there’s also that convent that was mentioned back in season one. It has to be somewhere in Corona itself and as the so far only mentioned major religious organization in the country it would no doubt have stately quarters for when royalty and nobility would visit.

So not only would it be a suitable place for a visiting king to stay in, as it would be made for such things, but it’s also far enough away that Eugene wouldn’t feel like his space is being invaded but close enough that Edmund could come and go as he pleases.

By that point it’s still between Edmund and Eugene and Rapunzel can stay out of it, like she should.

Eugene is Right

These are all valid reasons for cutting someone out of your life. Furthermore, you don’t even need a reason. If you don’t want to associate with somebody then just don't associate with. It’s your life. You don’t have to justify how you choose to live it and people who actually care about you should respect that.

Unfortunately no one respects Eugene.

Not Edmund, not Rapunzel, and most certainly not the writers.

Then Why Don't You Get Closer to Edmund, Rapunzel?

I understand Rapunzel’s viewpoint here. Edmund is the only person she’s ever met who has experienced the same isolation that she has. He’s one of the very few people whom she can empathize with.

However that doesn’t give her the right to force her views upon her boyfriend. If she cared so much than she could just befriend Edmund herself and leave Eugene out of it.

Trying to encourage a child to have relationship with a parent who neglected them is super tone deaf at best and outright disrespectful at worst. It’s also highly hypocritical seeing as Rapunzel cut Gothel out of her life for similar reasons and Eugene only ever supported her for it.

No really, flip the situation. If Eugene tried to encourage Rapunzel to give Gothel a second chance everyone would be slamming him for it. So why does Rapunzel get a free pass?

Shorty Already Did That, Eugene. Don’t You Remember?

I mean, you were literally right there when it happened. Are we forgetting season two the same as season one now?

So Why Are Stan and Pete Suddenly Back, But Not Cap?

I mean we went through all that trouble in Rapunzel’s Return to write them out of the narrative and here they are without any explanation. Why are simple set ups so dang hard for this show?

Rapunzel is Overstepping Her Bounds Here

Ok, giving Edmund a place to stay is one thing. Suggesting to Eugene that he should give Edmund a chance is not appropriate but still forgivable. But this?

This crosses a fucking line!

Eugene is not Rapunzel’s subject. He’s her boyfriend, and a prince in his own right. Rapunzel can’t just volunteer him for crap without his consent. That’s just indirectly ordering him about like she would a servant.

Once again, flip the script. If Eugene tried to force Rapunzel to work with Gothel everyone would be up in arms. Why is this then deemed okay?

This is Coercion

Not only is Edmund and Rapunzel trying to guilt trip Eugene here but she even fucking elbows him!

Like this isn’t “cute couple bickering” here. That kind of stuff is reserved only for inconsequential shit.

This a woman trying to strong arm and guilt trip her husband to be into having a relationship with his abusive father! Because guess what? Neglect is still abuse!

Rapunzel has zero say in Eugene and Edmund’s relationship. It’s none of her fucking business! Trying to force her into this plot just makes her look like an asshat.

I mean look at this smug smile! The fucking bitch is proud of being a shit human being and a terrible girlfriend.

And of course don't expect the show to call out this behavior as wrong because of out of date sexist double standards. If you think any of this is okay then just role reverse Eugene and Rapunzel here and then tell me its still alright.

The Show Missed a Real Trick By Not Naming Him Horus Instead

Horus, the sun god, would have been a nice bit of irony and given meaning to the name while keeping the joke virtually unchanged. You could have had both lore and a punchline.

And I would argue that the joke as is, isn’t even funny. Horace is indeed a lame name, but not for the reason that the show gives. It’s lame because it’s not unique enough. There’s already a Disney character named Horace and I’m sure there are real people out there with that name as well since it’s not completely unheard of. So the joke falls flat and winds up insulting anyone with that name.

Don’t Expect Any Pay Off for Eugene’s Identity Issues This Season

Yeah the show makes a big deal out of Eugene having a mid-life crisis through out season three, but then never resolves it in any meaningful way.

Edmund Is an Asshole

I don’t care how “crazy” he is. Calling someone by a name they don't wished to be called is just plain rude. Acknowledging someone’s preferred name is just a basic common courtesy that is expected of everyone. Once again, this isn’t funny, quirky, nor charming, just unpleasant.

So the Animators Wasted a Model on a No-Named Character Who Only Appears Once

Someone said this little girl appears in season one, but it’s not noticeable if she does. She also doesn’t have a name and this is her only speaking role. What a waste of money. Just have one of the braided girls from the movie instead. You already built models for them and haven’t really used them.

And before some mentions race here, this is poor rep already cause the character has no impact.

Turns Out, Varian Didn’t Even Need Those Truth Serum Cookies

Not only does this dumb down Pete to a ridiculous degree, but it also invalidates everything Varian went through in The Alchemist Returns and the grief he got from everyone for using the truth serum.

Oh, and it’s also lazy writing and a plot contrivance.

That’s Not Figgy Pudding!

This is Figgy Pudding.

It’s a boiled “pudding” that’s more like a cake with dried fruit in it. During the 14th through 18th centuries such bread puddings were made to be carried around in ones pocket or knapsack for eating on the go. They’re nothing like the creamy custards we call puddings today.

It also looks nothing like what’s shown on the screen below.

That’s like a half eaten loaf of wheat bread?

That’s jelly filled .. apparently...?

Once Again, If You Have to Make Everyone Else Incompetent to Make Your Hero Useful to the Plot Then You Need a New Plot

Rapunzel has zero business in this plot. She doesn’t even need to be in this episode beyond a cameo. Trying to cram her into the protagonist role in a conflict that doesn’t involve her is just a disservice to everyone.

Winnie The Pooh Is More Mature Than This Show

More of that meta commentary I was talking about last episode, and it just as full of shit as ever.

Seriously Find Her, Keep Her is the best script I have ever seen in any show. It’s perfectly balanced so that anyone of any age can relate to it. It’s real and heartbreaking and perfectly suitable for small children to understand. There’s no shock value, no darkness, no modern satire, but its far more mature and complex and deep than anything TTS has tried.

Also Rabbit is a far better father than any dad in this show, while still being cut from the same trope. There’s no shame in being a children’s show when its done well and this now 30 year old kids show runs rings around what ever mess Tangled is trying to sell.

Eugene Isn’t Exaggerating Here and I Don't Know How to Feel About That

Turns out Eugene did grow up with these guys the same as he did with Lance. It’ll be confirmed only two episodes later. That just recontextualizes everything. He didn’t just betray some rando guys that he held no feelings for, he betrayed people that he’s known and worked with since childhood.

Now just because he’s known them doesn’t mean that they were family to him like Lance, but like the fact that he keeps claiming then as such through out the episode would suggest that perhaps they were like siblings.

That’s ... ingenious. That makes Flynn Rider retroactively an even worse person and gives the Stabbingtons real reason for vengeance.

Only the show doesn't do anything with this! It just makes Eugene an even bigger jerk in the movie for zero reason.

Let Me Reiterate, Edmund Is an Asshole

Just like with Frederic, Cassandra, and Rapunzel the show uses framing to try and make the audience side with people who do unforgivable things.

Edmund is an abuser. He neglected his own son for 25 years. But the show presents him as “funny” and “quriky” and “look at his pouty face, he’s so lonely”....

No!

Edmund isn’t deserving of anything and how he treats Eugene here is garbage.

This show is utter crap writing wise but boy does it know how to gaslight its own audience into siding with bullies and abusers.

Eugene Is One Thousand Percent In the Right Here, But Don’t Expect the Narrative to Acknowledge That

There’s nothing you can do to make up for that.

Eugene might forgive him. Eugene might move on from it. Eugene might decide a relationship it still worth having with Edmund. But the horrible thing still happened and it happened because Edmund allowed it to happen. There’s no going back from that and everything going forward has to be on Eugene’s terms alone.

But the narrative won't allow Eugene that agency.

Even as he makes his grand proclamation about being done with Edmund the cameras chooses to focus on Edmund and his feelings. The story is already priming the audience to prioritize Edmund over Eugene so that when the forced and contrived forgiveness scene comes we won't question it. But it only comes because Chris doesn’t deem Eugene as individual person with thoughts and feels of his own, but as an avatar to fulfill his wishfulment fantasy regarding his own personal daddy issues.

Rapunzel’s Characterization in Season Three is Just....Off

Ok, even ignoring the major stuff, like not recognizing what she’s done wrong, putting her into roles she’s not meant to carry, and making her a shitty girlfriend suddenly, Rapunzel just behaves contrary to her character all through out season three even in small subtle ways like here.

On the surface this seems like a clever call back to Great Expotations, but lets examine more closely, shall we.

On one end we have yo-yos; an invention that’s been around since ancient Greece and is so wide spread across the globe that the word “yo-yo” itself is theorized to come from Indonesia and the Philippines.

On the other end there is Rapunzel. A woman who spent 18 years isolated inside of a tower, because of this she is both ignorant of somethings and insatiability curious and eager to learn. Or at least she was, until striking out onto a year long road trip, and having now been out of the tower for only two years, claims to know better than the entire fucking world about this object who’s existence she didn’t even know about until only a year and half ago!

Like what kind of sense does this make? Why would you abandon the core of her drive and motivation, to learn, explore, and grow, and then call it “development”?

How Did Edmund Get Beat By These Guys?

Edmund took out Adria. The Brotherhood is suppose to be the best physical fighters in this world and Edmund is supposed to be best out of all of them. Yet he’s taken out by two random, mediocre dudes who didn't even jump him. They gave him time to respond and he stood up to fight them.

Was all his physical prowess tied into that axe? Is the axe magic?

If you characters have to be depowered for unexplained reasons for the plot to work than you haven’t a good plot.

This Isn’t as Heartwarming as You Think It Is Show

If Edmund knew where Eugene was this whole time then he could have actually provided for his son. He could have arranged adoption with someone by letter, sent money, food, clothes, ect, maybe even wrote to Eugene directly and kept up a long distance relationship to be there for him emotionally.

There is literally no excuse anymore for Edmund to hide behind. He literally neglected his duties as a parent, just cause.

Finding these things shouldn’t make Eugene happy. Finding these things should piss him off even further because that’s how any logical adult would respond to this bullcrap.

I sure know I’m angry. I’m angry that Eugene is a pawn for the creators’ writing wank-off rather then being treated as human being; as an actual character.

“Nice” Isn’t the Same Thing as Kind, Rapunzel

One could argue that she’s not even superficially nice in season three, but the real problem here is that the show, and by extension Rapunzel herself, doesn’t understand the difference between being “pleasant” and actually being a good person. Outwardly polite people can stab you in the back, can kill you even, and not care, as Rapunzel has demonstrated repeatedly since season one.

Do They Have to Be “Family” for Eugene to Give a Damn?

Can’t Eugene just do the right thing, because it’s the right thing to do? People don't need to be friends and family to care about each others lives. Kindness isn’t transactional. Empathy and true charity doesn’t come with strings attached. If Eugene’s whole arc is about becoming a better person, then making the Stabbingtons “family” kind of undermines this.

Don’t Reward the Dude for Doing the Bare Fucking Minimal

No seriously. Edmund forfeited the right to ever be called “dad” by Eugene a long fucking time ago. He doesn’t get to be called that now just because he stopped being a piece of scum and showed the bare minimal of human decency. Even if Eugene decides to have a relationship with Edmund after this, it doesn’t mean that he has to be recognized as his dad or that that relationship will be a parental one.

Eugene, and by Extension the Show, Places Rapunzel Upon a Pedestal to the Detriment of All

Only 4 villains out of 20 get redeemed in this show. Four, and yes I’m counting the Stabbintions as one entity here. That’s 16 times Rapunzel failed to give someone a second chance just cause she didn’t feel like it that day, and even here she did fuck all in trying to give the Stabbingtons any sort of chance. That was all on Eugene.

The more this show goes on, the more it looks like Eugene is just in love with the idea of Rapunzel rather than who she actually is as a person. It’s a disservice to both their characters but it damages Rapunzel most of all because the show perpetuates this over idealization to everyone she interacts with.

It’s really sickening to watch and terrifying to know that some uphold this selfish brat as a “role model” for little girls. There’s nothing empowering in being an inhuman “goddess” who can do no wrong....even as they do several wrongs and never gets called out on it.

This Isn’t “Cute”

Eugene can’t even have an opinion on a fucking toy!

Look if you still like New Dream despite how horribly written it is this season, then good for you. That is completely understandable, especially since this is mainly a problem with season three and not really in the first two seasons and certainly not in the movie.

But if you try to deny that they aren’t toxic in season three, that people who do have problems with how they’re written aren’t valid in their concerns, than you’re either someone who hasn’t been paying attention or someone who has gross double standards for women in relationships.

This Scene Is A Waste of Time

This doesn’t tell the audience anything. It contradicts what was previously established concerning her powers without explanation and then just throws the creepy girl voice in there for a lazy hook. It doesn’t work at foreshadowing since we repeat this info all over again in the next episode and it doesn’t expand upon neither Zhan Tiri’s nor Cassandra’s characters.

In fact it kind of contradicts Cassandra’s characterization in the last episode as well. Is she a remorseless bad bitch or a vulnerable woobie? She can’t be both. Not in the way show is going about it anyways.

It’s poor time management and poor storytelling.

Conclusion

It was mildly better than Rapunzel’s Return, but that’s not saying much. Everyone’s character is still circling the drain and there’s no escape line in sight.

But before I close out, here is a real world update. I had to quit my job at Amazon for personal reasons and am currently job hunting. I’m not hurting right now, I do have money saved up to cover me for at least a month and I’ve been doing commissions here and there, however despite having more time technically to write these reviews, I’m now having to juggle it along with artwork and job hunting.

If you would like to support my reviews and other personal projects you can send me a tip over at Ko-Fi and more public commissions will be opening soon over there as well.

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

#eugene #anti-rapunzel #anti-tangled #tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure

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galaxina-the-pyro · 3 years

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phinabella + 41

…because the world is saved

A burst of air expanded into Phineas’ lungs, his pupils contracting to the size of a droplet - soon after, he gagged, water splashing into his face as he coughed and rolled to his side. Slowly but surely the vision he’d lost mere moments ago resurfaced as he caught a glimpse at the sunrise bringing light back to Danville. The only sound he focused on were that of a sprinkler as his mind began to wander.

Where was he?

What happened?

His chest felt pressure as he pushed himself up. Memories of the last several hours flooded back to him: the Pharmazombies...oh god...oh no, where was Ferb? Candace? His friends?

...where was Isabella?

Phineas pushed himself up back to his feet, rushing towards the ladder, nearly tripping over a random cured civilian who seemed just as dazed as everyone else. Phineas climbed up, hands nearly slipping from the wetness, until he reached the very top. Phineas never sighed so deeply, so relieved in his short life before, as he stared at Isabella, sitting against the Vortex Sprayer with the most awestruck face he’d ever seen on her.

She did it. She’d saved them all.

Not that it was a surprise. Of course it would be Isabella - of course even without the protection of rubberized suits, even in a state where she’d be very much in danger of infection, she’d still be the last one standing. It just made too much sense...

Phineas stared at his best friend, his mind still fuzzy; things were certainly hard to even comprehend. He could tell that, whatever else Isabella had seen, that it had her pretty shaken up. But as he pushed himself up onto the top of the water tower, he found his voice.

“Isabella, are you alright?”

Isabella’s head shot to the side, staring at Phineas like a deer in headlights (if the deer knew how to drop kick someone off of a building, that is; reflexes be darned). Upon realizing who it was, though, Isabella’s shoulders fell as she stood back up. Part of her must’ve felt silly for even feeling jumpy - her first trigger should’ve been “lot’s of me”, after all. But maybe that wasn’t the only thing on her mind...

“Yeah...” Isabella answered, whipping some water off of her hands, her entire body just as soaked as Phineas’, probably even more so, “Just...a little foggy...”

“What happened?” Phineas pressed, moving a bit closer as he did.

Isabella thought for a moment. “I remember building the Vortex Sprayer,” she admitted, motioning the creation that inevitably saved the day in the end, “But after that,” she shrugged, “I’ve got no clue.”

Phineas reached to his arm carefully gripping it. He felt a familiar kind of fabric, a small piece, and smiled warmly. “The only thing I can really make out is your patch...” he looked at Isabella fondly, “I dunno what happened, but,” he went over and pulled Isabella into a warm embrace, “I do know that I’ll hold onto this patch for the rest of my life.”

Isabella’s arms wrapped around Phineas’ waist. She sighed, leaning her head onto his shoulder. She found herself staring at the rising sun, realizing how long they must’ve been at this harrowing adventure - imagined what would’ve happened if they didn’t actually finish this by then, and how long they would have had to...

...but then she thought about how she was the only one up there, by the Vortex Sprayer. She thought about how she was likely infected, how her friends were likely taken...how Phineas was...

“...Isabella?”

She hadn’t meant to start crying - she hadn’t meant to crumple to the ground, and pull Phineas down with her. She hadn’t meant to look into Phineas’ face, wanting to say something, anything, but finding no strength. Instead, she saw tears forming in his eyes, too, as he crushed her back into an embrace, humming to her. “It...it’s okay,” Phineas murmured, sniffing, “We’re okay, Izzy...we’re okay...”

“I...I wanted to,” Isabella hiccupped, desperately trying to wipe her eyes; she found herself positioned in a way that her body was leaning against Phineas, her head on his chest as he held her close, “I wanted to...to...I dunno...I just...I’m so happy you’re-.”

“-I’m happy you’re okay,” Phineas managed to say, weakly smiling, “I’m so, so happy...I,” he let out a dry laugh, “I’ll be honest...I didn’t think we were gonna...”

Phineas and Isabella chuckled a little, but soon after just sat there, hugging each other and it all in as Danville began returning to their normal bustle. Some of them were probably traumatized - others probably, somehow, missed the whole darn thing. But whatever the case may be, Phineas and Isabella knew for a fact that they would remember this day, this moment, for the rest of their lives.

And then there was the darned patch that, to Isabella, was what started her little adventure that day. That goal - she’d definitely never forget such a trial. No thinly parodied zombie pandemic would make her forget. She could hear Phineas’ heartbeat, how it was steadily getting to an even pace.

Maybe it was selfish - beyond selfish, even - but...she had to. It had to be now. Something in her chest, something she couldn’t remember but was there even still, screamed that she was more than capable of just letting it be known. She took a shaky breath.

“...I wanted to tell you something.”

Phineas pulled away, just a little, to get a better look at Isabella’s face. “What was that?” he asked softly.

Ultimately it was Isabella who ended the embrace, as she pulled her body away, looking toward Phineas as she positioned herself onto her knees. She noted how Phineas almost looked disappointed (though he could’ve just as easily been looking concerned about something...either way...it was an incredibly sweet expression). She folded her hands onto her knees. “Before this all started,” she stated carefully, “There was...there was something I needed to tell you...”

“...oh,” Phineas’ back straightened up from his usual slouch, “OH!” he snapped his fingers and pointed at his best friend, “Yeah! Yeah, something about...” he touched the patch again, “You...you let me use the patch you were-...”

“You really should keep it,” Isabella smiled sweetly, in a way that made Phineas feel happier than he had been all day, “You’ve more than earned it...see...it’s an Emotional Bravery Patch...”

Phineas rubbed his arm. “Huh,” he smirked, “Kind of an on-the-nose patch, huh?” he paused, eyeing Isabella carefully, “Wait...you’re the bravest person I know,” he playfully glared at Isabella, crossing his arms in an accusatory way, “How come you’re only just earning it now?”

“Well...” Isabella ran a hand through her wet, tangled hair, leading to a few awkward tugs at the black and navy blue stands, “I haven’t exactly earned it yet.”

Isabella had to briefly squeeze her eyes shut to suppress her laughter as a look of utter disgust painted itself over Phineas’ face. “Isabella,” he spoke in an incredibly offended tone; that’s it, Isabella couldn’t hold it back anymore, “Stop laughing and look at me.”

“N-not until you stop looking at me like that,” Isabella managed to poke a single eye open, only to laugh even harder at the stony stare, “PLEASE!”

“Isabella, you literally just saved everyone,” Phineas stated firmly, grabbing Isabella’s shoulders as she continued to giggle, “From a borderline zombie apocalypse. That’s more than enough-.”

“-i-it’s not,” Isabella finally managed to say as she moved to grab Phineas’ hands and pull them off her shoulders, “I...the only way I specifically could earn it,” she swallowed hard, the nerves beginning to seep their way back into her chest, “Is if I walk up to someone I care about,” she lifted her gaze back to Phineas, noting his expression falling back to his natural curiosity, “like...really, REALLY care about...and telling them face-to-face...”

She squeezed Phineas’ hands, keeping the warmth memorized in her head. Phineas waited patiently for her to continue, his smile returning. “...Phineas,” Isabella spoke, the force she had been working up towards finally reaching to fruition, “I like you...” she saw Phineas about to respond immediately and had anticipated a probable platonic response, “LIKE YOU, like you...I mean...”

There was a familiar feeling forming in Phineas’ chest - he couldn’t exactly remember from what, but for some reason he felt like he’d heard this before. He didn’t remember the pause being so deafening this time around, but it felt familiar nonetheless. From the tingling on his lips, to the ringing in his ears, almost as if the heavens themselves had whispered a soft melody that no form of memory-wipes could truly erase.

And for the first time, Phineas found himself truly speechless.

“I know it’s silly,” Isabella twirled her hair with her fingers, feeling her eyes begin to water again, “But like...just in case, you know?” she laughed softly, the lump returning to her throat, “In case something else happens, and...and...”

Then Isabella felt Phineas’ hands cup her face. The two stared for a while, probably unsure of what was even happening. Or perhaps Phineas at least knew, to an extent - this was just emotions springing out in a way that he’d never experienced before. He opened his mouth, then shut it as he briefly glanced to the floor. Isabella waited, just as patiently as he had.

And then it happened. Without warning.

Phineas’ lips were planted onto Isabella’s.

It was short - certainly not as long as what Isabella had seen from Candace and Jeremy after their adventure going around the world. But it felt so right all the same - maybe it was the shock adding to the serotonin Isabella was experiencing. But nonetheless, Phineas seemed to share the reaction, a smile slowly creeping onto his face.

“...I like you too,” Phineas answered softly before chuckling shyly, “But...I guess you know that by now, huh?”

Isabella giggled sweetly before the two pulled each other into another hug, refusing to let the other go. She would have a lot more to say to Phineas - and Phineas would have a lot more to say to her. But for that moment, the two would just sit there. Just the two of them...

...and Ferb, who had just finished trekking up onto the top of the water tower, pausing as he witnessed the two caught in their tender embrace. He stared, blinking and ever so often glancing back towards the walls surrounding the city of Danville. He really should remind the two that the rest of civilization was still probably infected. They definitely needed to rectify that as soon as possible, didn’t they?

“...nah,” Ferb shrugged as he proceeded to climb back down the ladder, opting to give the two some much needed privacy.

EDIT: And YEAH, I know, TECHNICALLY, the world still needs to be saved, but like...just gimme this.

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sherrybaby14 · 5 years

Text

Oh But I Am

Request: can i get a steve punishing the reader for checking out loki or something and him calling her a slut cause she is low-key kinda a slut

Pairings: Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 1900

Warnings: Fighting for dominance, smut, a little bit of name-calling

“I think we’re in need of a break, maybe even a vacation after this one.” Steve folded his arms as he leaned against the wall.

“Uh-huh.” You were more interested in the convoy that walked by.

All the armed guards surrounding the Asgardian prince. His hands were manacled, his face muzzled. They paused right in front of you. That man, if you could call him a man, radiated power. He locked eyes with you sending a flash of heat to your cheeks.

“Maybe we could take one together?” Steve coughed, trying to get your attention. “We’ve been dating for what? Three months now? I could use a trip to the beach.”

“Sure.” Your eyes dropped down Loki’s body, widening when they got to his crotch.

The uniform he had on left little to the imagination. You wondered what that would feel like, bring ravished by a god. Your tongue darted out and licked your lips.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Steve about yelled.

“Huh?” Your attention went back to your paramour.

“Loki?” He threw his hands in disgust. “You’re checking out Loki? The man just tried to destroy the world!”

You looked back at the god in green. Even though his mouth was sealed his eyes were smiling. Another tingle went through your body. He’d heard every word. Was he interested? Maybe a goodbye fuck? You had the clearance, maybe you could sneak in before Thor took him to Odin for judgment.

“Unbelievable.” Steve pushed off the wall. “Forget it. I don’t know what I was thinking, trying to date a little slut like you.”

The insult made you whip your head back to Steve. His blue eyes were raging. Your mind filled with insults to hurl at the man, but you knew better than to lose your cool. So instead you gave a shrug as your lips curled upward.

“Disgusting.” Steve snarled as he turned around and walked toward the elevator banks.

Well, that was one way to break up. You looked back at Loki and winked. His shoulders bounced as he gave a small chuckle. The convoy started to move again. You’d do some research, see when they were moving him. There had to be some time somewhere to ride that dick.

The alien terrorist dominated your thoughts for the rest of the day. The living quarters in the tower were off-limits, but the city was so grateful to the Avengers you found yourselves in the top floor of a posh hotel. It wasn’t much different from home.

The shower was a thing of luxury. As the water dripped down your body your hand snaked between your legs. You rubbed yourself under the hot liquid, head thrown back while you envisioned the dark-haired god between your thighs.

How big was he? What was his stamina like? Would he call you names? Degrade you? Pick you up and toss you around? The thoughts made you purr as you touched yourself to completion. The orgasm sending Loki to the back of your brain.

Fuck Steve. You turned off the shower as you stepped into the bathroom and dried off. Captain America was amazing in bed, there was no denying that, but why did he always want to make things so intimate? When had you ever discussed being exclusive?

Though you had to admit, calling you a slut through you for a loop. It was more entertaining than expected.

A knock sounded on your door, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Just a minute.” You grabbed your robe and threw it on.

The knocking continued as you tied the thing. Whoever was on the other side was persistent.

“I said I was coming.” You opened the door to see Steve on the other side.

His head was hung low and there was a pout on his perfect face.

“Could we talk?” He folded his hands in front of them, almost reminding you of a schoolboy.

You smirked as you pulled the door open all the way, letting him come into your room.

“I was out of line today.” He turned to face you. “I shouldn’t have called you that. You’re not a slut.”

“Oh, but I am.” You let the door shut.

Steve looked up at you with wide eyes.

“I am a slut.” You kept your face blank. “I think about fucking all sorts of people. You. Most of the team. Even some of the bad guys. I just came thinking about fucking Loki.”

He blinked several times, at a loss for what to say. You loved the discomfort on his face, wanting to drag this out. Tingles were going through your body too, from your words and Steve’s reaction.

“How does that make you feel?” You went toward him, draping your hands around his shoulders. “That you’ve been fucking a slut for the last three months? Dirty? Disgusting? Ashamed?”

You moved your mouth right next to Steve’s ear and let your tongue flick the lobe. He wasn’t Loki, but he would do right now.

Before you could tease him again his hand went to your scalp. He gripped a fistful of your hair and yanked it back. Your neck craned while you looked him in the eye.

The rage was there again. The power. The dominance. He’d never taken charge like this before.

“No. You’re not a slut.” His other hand went to your shoulder and he pushed you down. “You’re MY slut. Mine alone. Do you understand?”

“Not the way it works.” You found yourself on your knees, enjoying the view.

Steve’s hand went to his jeans. He wasted no time pushing them down, his cock hard and ready flopping out.

“Open.” He pressed your face to his crotch.

You had no problem showing him how sexy you could be and spread your lips wide taking him in. He started to push your head down hard, but you relaxed and rolled your tongue, easily pushing past your gag reflex, not even needing his guidance to feel his cock hit your throat. You knew how to take him deep.

“Fuck.” Steve looked down at you with confusion.

Your lips were to his pelvis as you continued to swallow and breath through your nose. Holding yourself there as you glared up at him with innocent eyes. Drool starting to leak out of the corners of your mouth.

“I could do this all day.” It came out muffled but you couldn’t help yourself.

Steve grabbed your hair again and yanked you off his cock. He led you back to your feet and pushed you against the wall. His lips crashing on to yours hard as he spread your legs and hoisted you in the air.

“Why do you turn me on so much?” Steve nipped at your neck. “I need a nice girl. A good girl.”

“No.” You gripped his hair and pulled his neck back. “That’s what you want. What you need is a crazy bitch.”

You brought your hand back. SLAP! Right across the cheek. A smile spread across your face as Steve let out a growl.

When he looked back at you there was a bit of blood on the corner of his mouth. You dove your mouth down, pressing it to his. Kissing him deep and hard, running your tongue over his split lip as you tasted him.

If you weren’t still wet from the shower orgasm you were soaked now. The robe started to slip off and Steve’s jeans were around his ankles. His hand went to his cock and he split you with one hard thrust.

You winced against his mouth, loving how forceful he felt.

“Mine. Only mine.” He grunted into your ear. “If it means I have to fuck you until you can’t think I’ll do it.”

He started to slam into you, as you rocked your body against him. Using the angle to grind your clit. You enjoyed a riled up Steve and the thought of being fucked senseless was appealing.

You unhooked your right leg from his waist and brought it behind you, kicking hard against the wall, sending Steve falling backward and landing on the bed with a bounce.

Now you were on top of him, straddling. His hands went to undo your robe and you took the thing off, exposing yourself totally. You rocked back and forth, dragging your bundle of nerves against his stomach while his cock filled you.

“Who is fucking who?” You ran your nails down his chest.

“Oh, you bitch.” Steve dug his fingertips into your hips.

You smiled at him as you continued to use him as a toy. He didn’t try to flip you. Oh no, he was enjoying the view too much. You didn’t hold back the moan as the orgasm started to build in your belly.

Steve licked his fingers and placed them against you, giving you more friction to rub yourself against. Your head went back.

“Say it. Please say it.” Steve was starting to pant. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“Shut up.” You liked him begging like this.

He started to pulse his fingers, moving them against you with every rock of your body, fluttering them to your clit, bringing it more alive.

“You’re mine.” He put more pressure down and your started to hover on release. “Say it. Say it now.”

“No.” The word came out as a breath as the coil exploded, ecstasy running through your veins. “Never.”

“We’ll see about that.” Steve’s hand went to your shoulder and pushed hard.

He rolled you onto your back and pinned your wrists above your head in one hand. He kept his other between your body as pushed down hard.

A screech left your lips as he played with your over-stimulated clit.

“Fuck!” You tried to wiggle away from the pressure, but the position left you little purchase.

“Say it.” Steve bit your lip hard, making you moan again. “Say you’re mine and I’ll stop.”

You continued to struggle against him, but his cock started to rock in and out of you as his fingers began rubbing, a second orgasm well on its way.

“No.” You smiled as he looked down at you.

The anger on his face just beautiful.

“By the end of the night, you’ll see who’s fucking who.” Steve railed into you, making you bounce into the mattress.

You looked forward to the challenge.

Steve lived up to his promise. By the time he finished the second time you’d lost count of how many O’s he’d given you.

“You said it.” His arm snaked around you. “That you belong to me. My girl.”

It was true, but everything felt like it was a haze. Did you really mean it?

He snuggled you close, bodies covered in sweat, too hot for the position but too tired to protest.

“You can be as slutty as you like.” He grazed his teeth over your shoulder. “Just remember that you’re MY slut.”

A smile crossed your face. Sleep started to come forward. Right before you slipped into unconsciousness you pictured Loki again, reminding yourself to check tomorrow about getting a visit before he left.

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #captain america fanfic #background loki

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girlofmanyfandoms · 4 years

Text

Tinker’s Backstory Pt 1?

A/n: This is based off of my Tinker headcanons. I tried to write angst, but that didn’t really show? Let me know if it hit you in the feels or not, and if this should be a series. Am I half-neglecting my other series? Maybe. Anyways, enjoy!

Word count: 2,102

Warnings: Possible angst?

“Pass me that gear,” Lady Iskra commanded. “We’re almost done with this prototype.”

Tinker hopped off from her place on the workbench next to Lady Iskra to fulfill the demand. They had been working since yesterday trying to perfect the design of this technology she decided to call an “obscurer.” Tinker had to stay overnight in Lady Iskra’s extra bedchamber in order to complete the project and, though tired, Tinker was honored to apprentice to such a legendary technopath.

After Tinker helped her set the gear in, she took a moment to observe the workshop. It’s walls were covered in bulletin boards of diagrams and shelves and boards holding tools galore. The floor was cluttered to say the least, cogs, gears, and bolts of all sizes strewn across the room. And though she couldn’t quite place the smell of the place, she knew one thing: it made her feel at home.

“Are you listening, apprentice?”

Tinker blinked, trying to adjust to that jolt of reality. “Yes, Lady Iskra. Of course. Could you repeat what you said?”

“I said we need to oil this out. Can you please get it from the supply room?”

Young Tinker nodded eagerly, red curls bouncing. She sprinted out of the room and bounded down the hall. Navigating her way through the messy supply room, seeing the oil on the top shelf. She began climbing the shelves, carefully avoiding the various items being held by them. Just as her hands grazed the container, she slipped and went crashing down the large distance from the top shelf to the ground. Her back was in immense pain and she clutched it in worry of something breaking if she let go.

“Lady Iskra!” she cried. Tinker couldn’t lay down, but couldn’t sit up either, so she was in this half crouched position on her side. She could hear Iskra scrambling from her seat to figure out what had happened. When she arrived, she rushed to her side.

“What happened?” Iskra asked worriedly, gently taking her hand and helping her apprentice lean against a box. “Are you hurt?”

“Yeah,” Tinker winced. “I tried to climb the shelves for the oil, but I slipped on a greasy board.”

Iskra bit her lip in concern. “I’ll call the medic.”

“No! I’m fine,” Tinker insisted.

“Bolt,” Lady Iskra addressed her by her nickname.

She was given the nickname Bolt for three reasons. For one, Tinker didn’t like to use her original name. For another, she was quick, speedy, and young, with a lot of potential in her. Lastly, Iskra said that Tinker was the one who held her projects together, just as a bolt does.

“You need to have your back checked out,” Iskra warned before her expression softened. “I shouldn't have sent you to get the oil. I should’ve known it wouldn’t be within your reach.”

This was one of the things Tinker admired the most about Lady Iskra. She had an air of tough love, but when it mattered, she was there. She was like the mother Tinker never had. And deep down, she knew that no matter how much Iskra valued her work, she valued her apprentice more. ‘Everything is a learning experience,’ she would say whenever Tinker messed up a project and felt guilty. Tinker never felt out of place.

“I’m alright, Lady Iskra,” Tinker assured her, grunting as she forced herself to stand, leaning against the shelf. Iskra frantically held her arm, terrified of her getting a concussion. “Is the project alright?”

Lady Iskra shooed the question away with her free hand. “Nevermind the project. Let’s get you to the bedchamber and I’ll fetch some ice.”

Tinker found no use in protesting as her mentor helped her to her room like a soldier guiding their wounded comrade. She layed on top of an ice pack, her body propped up with an obnoxious amount of fluffy pillows.

“Can I still work on the obscurer from here?” Tinker begged.

Seeing the pleading in her eyes, Iskra caved. “We’ll make a compromise. I’ll bring the materials to this room, and you can watch while I work. Sound good?”

Tinker agreed. She was satisfied to watch as her mentor worked her craft, always knowing what to do in what circumstances. When to add a component, and which one, and how. This was another thing Tinker admired about her. Her skill, and ability to work under pressure. In her three years of apprenticeship to her, Tinker tried to mimic her in every way. She still couldn’t quite understand why someone as talented as Lady Iskra saw something in her. She couldn’t understand why she was the one that Iskra took under her wing.

It wasn’t long before Tinker dozed off, leaving Lady Iskra to work quietly at the room’s only desk.

“I think we finally did it. Do you want to test it ou-”

Iskra stopped herself, seeing Tinker’s sleeping form. She chuckled lightly and brushed a red curl off of her forehead.

“You’ll change the world, child,” she muttered as she walked out of the room, sure that Tinker didn’t hear those words.

_________

But the words did reach Tinker, in her dreams. Her surroundings were hazy, but she could vaguely tell where she was. It was Atlantis, and she was munching on a piece of mallowmelt that was a bit too large for such a young child. A friendly face greeted her, the figure leaned down so she could be on the same face level.

“I’m Lady Iskra,” she introduced herself. “I heard you wanted to be my apprentice. I want to mentor someone who has potential. So, show me what you can do!”

Tinker hurriedly swallowed the mallowmelt in her mouth and wiped her sticky hands on her clothes before rushing over to a fountain. Lady Iskra, though confused, followed her. Tinker reached into her pocket and pulled out a machine that resembled a mini-submarine, made of bronze. In her other hand, she held a cord and a clear glass box, lined with what looked like tiny light bulbs.

Convinced that she had caught her attention, Tinker set the mini-submarine in the water of the fountain. It’s motor got to work as Tinker connected the submarine to the glass box via the cord. She held up the box as it began to light up before flickering and dying out. Tinker’s victorious smile faded and her shoulders sunk. She had just lost her shot at greatness. Blinking back tears, she took her submarine out of the water, now only seeing it as a failed middle school science fair project. Lady Iskra however, applauded and praised her.

Tinker tilted her head. Was this woman mocking her? Or was it out of pity? Either way, she wasn’t happy, and tried to back away from the situation slowly.

“Where are you going, child?”

She froze in her tracks. Biting her lip anxiously and tugging at a red curl that wouldn’t leave her forehead she returned to her former position. “I know I didn’t make it.”

Lady Iskra looked appalled. “Who said such a thing? Why, out of all of the children I’ve encountered, you have by far shown the most potential!”

“But my experiment failed. I couldn’t conduct enough power to make electricity for more than a few seconds.”

“Potential doesn’t always mean automatic success,” Lady Iskra commented. “It means having the motivation, drive, interest, and talent to work for it. You’re the only one who has shown me that.”

Tinker’s eyes shined with hope. “So, am I your apprentice?”

Lady Iskra nodded and Tinker sighed with relief, nearly dropping to her knees trying to control herself.

“You’ll change the world, child,” Lady Iskra chuckled.

The world became warped suddenly, images flashing and the floor spinning. Several memories replayed briefly before being replaced by another. Her birthday, Lady Iskra’s presentation of the Spyball with Tinker by her side, repairs on the building, before a hazy mist covered it all. Tinker panicked. Had she gone deaf? A crackling sound proved her wrong and she blew out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. But what was that sound?

________

Tinker jumped up suddenly as her hand heated up in pain. Tinker rubbed her eyes to take in her surroundings. Her stomach dropped and she struggled to get to her feet, back still aching from before. Fire. Fire everywhere. Tinker tried to limp around it, but fell face first into the flames. She smacked the left side of her face frantically, rolling on the only unburned portion of the room to put out the flames. Tinker cried in agony, which only made the pain worse. She pushed herself out of the doorway, screaming for Lady Iskra. When she received no response, she realized she must be trapped, too.

Thinking quickly, she made a beeline for the workshop where she could hear clattering, as well as the pleas of her mentor. Tinker staggered to the door, where she saw the outline of a man, fire dancing on his hands. It didn’t seem to affect him in any way.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” Iskra begged. The whole room, and most likely the entire tower, was full of flames, and Iskra coughed immensely.

“Jolie ordered something from you, and I’m not leaving until you give it to me,” Brant rasped.

“I don’t have any orders from a Jolie, I swear! You can check in the front!”

“Think I’m gonna fall for that? Listen, lady, I’ll burn this place down if you don’t hand me the order.”

Lady Iskra was about to respond when she spotted Tinker. Despite her instincts, she kept her eyes trained on her.

The pyrokinetic turned around and grinned at Tinker menacingly. Iskra screamed for Tinker to run, and she tried, but Brant had a hand around her neck, choking her slightly. Brant called down a bit of Everblaze, bringing it close to Tinker’s face.

“This your daughter, eh?”

Iskra tried to run towards Tinker, but Brant made a wall of fire between them as a sort of blockade. “It’s simple, really. Hand over the order and the girl gets away scot-free.”

Tinker looks up in time to see a large pipe get charred by flames and fall onto the wall, knocking a good chunk of it down. The tower’s structure was greatly threatened, and Tinker knew that if Iskra was going to make it out alive, she had to run now. “Behind you,” Tinker shouted. Iskra looked at the opening hesitantly. “Just go, I’ll catch up.”

Brant took this opportunity to further burn the left side of her face. “Useless girl,” he muttered, throwing her to the ground like she weighed nothing. Brant saw the oil that Tinker had failed to retrieve lying on its side. He smirked. Walking over the a fuel tank, and mixing it with the oil, he set it on fire, before running out to tackle Iskra, confident the child would be long dead.

The fuel tank exploded, making Tinker’s ears ring and her vision double. Her hearing was muffled, and at this point, her body couldn’t process the pain. Her pathway blocked, she tried to make it to the front of the tower, where they accepted orders and sponsorships. Her senses were so dulled, she barely noticed the stinging pain of the fire. The right side of her face was fine, save for a few scratches and some minor burns, but the left side of her face felt heavy, as if it were sagging. Tinker’s right leg was in no shape to carry her, so she crawled until she reached the door.

She tried to push it open. It wouldn’t budge. Tinker was fully convinced that she was going to die. She felt as though she were under an iceberg trying to make it back to the surface before she ran out of air to breath. She cried for Lady Iskra, but, of course, she wouldn’t come running to her rescue. Not this time. Tinker grabbed a hammer from her utility belt and attacked the door, eventually succeeding in tearing it down.

Once outside, Tinker didn’t look back at the burning place she once called home. No, instead she soldiered forward, until she made it to a lake a little bit away. She washed her face here, feeling the smallest bit of relief at the coolness of the water. She laid there a while, mind too foggy to think of anything other than rest. Everything else could wait. So she let herself be concealed by the shade of a tree as everything in her life slipped away from her desperate hands.

Taglist: @bookwyrminspiration @imaramennoodle @an-absolute-travesty @a-lonely-tatertot @linhammon-roll-bromance101 @percabetn @loverofallthingssmart @ anyone who wants to read this stuff

Please let me know if I forgot to tag you or if you want to be tagged!

#ah that was bad #but at least I wrote more than I usually do #kotlc tinker #kotlc lady iskra #kotlc headcanon #kotlc fanfiction #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities

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itschimmychimchims · 5 years

Text

Etched Pt. 9

♡ jimin x reader

♡ smut, mafia!au

♡ smut, oral, dirty talking, mentions of violence, strong language (LOL)

♡ This got deleted for some reason but it’s up again!!!!

—

You’ve been shipped to Paris by your father, who again barely visits you. All is well for 8 months until you get lost in the crowd on your day out in town and have a dangerous encounter.

—

—8 MONTHS LATER—

“Again.”

Kick.

“Again. Harder.”

Kick.

“Good, again.”

Kick.

“Good, okay, we’re done for the day.” My trainer finally said. I released the tension from my muscles as he told me we were done. I sighed in relief, immediately removing my protective gear from my sweat-drenched body.

“Are you heading home after this?” My trainer asked, passing me my water bottle.

“Yeah, I’ve shooting practice at the range.” I replied, gulping down the water fervently.

So, for the past 6 months, I’d been shipped to Paris. My father had a safehouse here in a remote area with good security and he had a few friends here that could take care of me. Or so he claimed. I’d been given mandatory self defense lessons and shooting lessons. My father was pretty shocked at my natural talent with guns, but my lack of coordination with my feet for self defense and fighting made up for that. I took a cold shower and keyed in my chauffeur’s number, only to see he was already waiting outside the building.

“Miss.” He greeted with a smile. I smile back, entering the car through the door he had opened.

The ride back was always the same scenery but I was always fascinated. It was about 5.30PM and the sun was just starting to set. The people bustling around were different. Businesses seemed different every day. Buskers changed. The golden sunlight melted onto the buildings like a layer of honey, and it seemed to change the shapes and silhouettes I saw as I drove past here every day. I hardly ever got out of the safehouse but when I did, I usually walked down the angular streets, just slowly taking in what I could.

“Miss, we’ve arrived.”

I dumped my keys and locked all 4 locks on the door. The maids in the morning had cleaned out the house but they always left immediately after. I was always alone here. It was nice at times, to be independent and do things by myself. But after 6 months of this, I was just... lonely. I had nobody to talk to or interact with other than my driver and the various trainers. Even those conversations were always the same.

I still had about an hour till the shooting instructor arrived so I whipped up a quick dinner. Groceries were replenished by the maids too because I hardly could left the house to buy anything myself. I made some kimchi soup with the rice that had been steamed this afternoon. I mostly ate Korean food. Western food was good - pasta and all - but I missed home. Korean food was all I had left of home.

—

It was the week later that the security team finally was assembled for me going out of the house. Me leaving the house was subject to my father’s approval, and somewhat like taking leave at a company, I had to file it in a record - dates, times and where I was going. My dad usually approved it a few days later and I assumed he did some checks first just to see if I was completely safe. I wondered what he checked for.

The security team always wore casual clothes, blending into to scenery around me. I took no notice of them, only once or twice had I see them twitch their hands to their guns because of some rough encounters. But I always managed to smooth things over myself, well, with my broken French but better English. That day, I wanted to visit the Eiffel Tower. I’d passed by it several times but I never properly visited it.

I walked around slowly below it, and deemed it was nothing much other than a great photo op. No offense to the French but I guess it’s only more iconic if you take photos of it from afar. From such a close vantage point, it was just a mix of metal bars. A few of my security team followed me up to the top where I just gazed over all of Paris. The triangular shaped buildings and winding streets all looked the same to me, and I couldn’t even pinpoint the street I was in. It was beautiful though.

I had opted to walk through a crowded street after visiting the Louvre. It was more boring than I thought so I left early and wanted to experience the bustle of the streets before sundown. The scenery before me fed my eyes - people, tourists, construction, beggars, scammers, musicians and buskers, chefs and bakers. I spotted a Chinese spiced fish hotpot restaurant and I could smell the peppers as I walked past it. I could smell bread and the sweetness of madeleines as I passed a bakery. The scent of roses and fresh flowers invaded my senses as I strolled past a florist. These little things were the things that made my day more so than seeing the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre.

My eyes rested on a small pot of violets in the shop window. They were bright yellow and purple, with flecks of white. It made me wonder what my own violets had grown to look like at Jimin’s place. They had just begun to sprout buds when I last saw them. Would they be springing forth full of life, or would they have been dead by now? Thrown away? I wondered wistfully, tearing my eyes away from the flowers so I wouldn’t get too emotional. As I rejoined the crowd, I couldn’t see my security team anymore as I was lost in the hustle of the after-work crowds. My shoulders hit others’ and I clutched my bag a little tighter so as to not get pickpocketed.

I tried to escape the crowds by sticking close to the building walls, but suddenly found myself getting separated from my security. My heart thrummed uneasily inside my chest, wondering if they would still be able to spot me in the crowd. As I rounded the block back to my apartment, I felt a harsh tug on my arm, pulling me into an alleyway. By instinct, I manouvered my way out of the mystery person’s grasp, immediately whipping my gun out from my jacket.

I came face to face with a raven-haired man whose face looked like it came straight from an animated movie, though it was mostly covered by his dark hoodie. His eyes were unrealistically large and almost doe-like. They contrasted his action of holding up a similar gun in between his long slender fingers. His thick brows furrowed in annoyance.

“You know self-defense.” He gritted his teeth, clicking his gun. I did the same.

“Who the hell are you, and what do you want?” I spat, stepping away from him. I just needed to stall time until my security detail managed to find me.

“Why the fuck do I need to answer that?” He countered. “You’re coming with me.”

“Like hell I am.” I growled, firing a warning shot to try and scare him off. My bullet hit a pile of cardboard boxes behind him, but he didn’t even flinch as the bullet barely passed his neck. His eyes did widen, as if he didn’t expect me to actually fire a shot.

“Get the fuck away from me.” I said, slowly stepping away from him. “The next bullet’s aimed at your head.” The man scoffed in my face.

“You’re really naive if you think I’m going to go down without a plan.” The man huffed and I saw movement all around me. The faint sounds of guns clicking were heard and I could feel shadows creep in closer. My heart beat uneasily as I tried to slowly reach for my phone in my back pocket. Fuck, why couldn’t my security team find me quicker?

Suddenly, I heard something. Silenced bullets. It was so quiet but I definitely heard it. I thought it was my security team and those slow ass guards finally noticed something was up. I’d speak to my dad about them. One by one, I could feel the pressure of guns lift, as if the mystery man’s team was getting taken out. I kept my eyes on him, and he was visibly annoyed. His men were being picked off one by one and he knew it.

“You were saying?” I scoffed, trying to back away now. What happened next was extremely fast and I still don’t know how but in a matter of seconds, he swiftly dashed into me, disarming me before I had the chance to pull the trigger. The gun clattered to the floor, but I twisted around, kicking him in the stomach. He let go of my wrist and I used the chance to grab my gun again but I was too slow. I felt his gun on my temple and I froze, slowly putting my hands up.

“Stop moving, and do as you’re told.” The man hissed, butting his gun into my head. I’m sorry but why the fuck did my security team not shoot this guy on the spot.

“Hoseok hyung.” My heart felt as if it got stabbed twenty times at the sound of the voice that haunted my dreams for the past 8 months. My breath hitched and I could feel my emotions swell up from hiding in my chest. It was him. Jimin.

“Fuck, I knew it.” The raven-haired man clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Drop the gun, hyung.” Jimin said, and I wished I could turn around and look at his face but I was pretty busy with a gun to my head. The man called Hoseok grimaced, and I could see him deliberating for a while before he clicks his gun upwards and in front of him.

“I have you surrounded, hyung, there’s no running anymore.” Jimin said. Now, I craned my neck to look backwards and finally took in the view that I’d longed for. Jimin’s silver hair had gone back to black and his face looked healthier, not so tired. Maybe it was just the evening sun glow. The sight made me feel like a cold glass on water had poured life into the parched land of my heart. Yet, pain gripped my chest - from the longing and from remembering how fucking heartbroken I was when I was dumped back at my father’s house. I turned my attention back to Hoseok.

In a flash, he tried to make a run for it and in a matter of moments, a rain of bullets came from above the buildings. One bullet found his arm and one embedded itself into his calf. He was paralyzed to the ground and as if from out of nowhere, a group of men swooped in to hoist him out of the scene and into a car.

“Y/N.” Jimin called gently as I still sat on the ground in shock. I could hear his footsteps behind me come closer and closer. Not really thinking, my hand grabbed the gun on the floor as I stood up and took aim. I wasn’t met with resistance, but all I got was a small smile and an apologetic pair of eyes that stared right through me.

“Why are you here?” I hissed, trying to sound pissed but I’m pretty sure I sounded like I was about to cry.

“I’ve been tracking rebel movements.” He answered simply, putting his gun away and raising his hands slowly to show me he meant no harm. “Hoseok just now, was a key part of the group - the weakest link. Now that we have him, things will progress a lot smoother.” He was stepping closer to me now.

“That’s all?” I wavered. “You came all the way to Paris personally to capture a lackey?” He was now right in front of my gun. Jimin shot me a small smile as he took the barrel in his hands and lowered it gently. Once he made sure it was out of the way, I dropped it and he pulled me into a warm embrace. It was laughable how hard I clung to his lapel, letting out the tears I never cried for the past 8 months.

“No, I came to make sure you were safe, I’m sure by now you’d have known that I would do anything for you.” Jimin murmured, stroking my hair and kissing my temple.

“Including just leaving me for 8 months?” I shoved his chest, breaking the embrace. “Fuck you, Jimin. How is this any better than me being with you. Not even a warning, not even contacting me.”

“I’m sorry, princess, I just didn’t want you to get caught up any more than you were with my clan’s affairs. But now I know that they’re after you, I have all the more reason to keep you by my side.” He apologized as he took my hand and put it to his cheek, kissing the soft flesh of my palm. His cheeks were warm. His lips were soft. I missed them so much.

“I’m not leaving you ever again.” Jimin said firmly - a promise. With that, I relented. I flew back into his arms and he held me gently but firmly, kissing my lips for the first time in a long while. They felt so familiar in the midst of this foreign land, and they felt so natural in this ridiculous situation. All I could focus on were his lips, his smell and his touch on my hair, my back, my arms.

“Fuck, I missed you. Every day, Princess, every single day.” Jimin murmured through the kiss, holding me tight against his body.

“I missed you so much...” I mumbled softly as my tears inevitably escaped. I just couldn’t stop.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” Jimin apologized as he put his forehead softly on mine. “I’m going to protect you. Your security team is literally useless they’re all dead from the rebels. I’m going to have a word with your father about that.”

“They’re all dead?” I gasped a little in shock. No wonder they weren’t coming. I did think it was odd that they’d take so long just to find me again after I disappeared in an alley.

“They were picked off one by one in the crowd just then.” Jimin answered. “I’ve dealt with Hoseok’s team, so you don’t have to worry anymore. You’ll be coming with me now. Your home’s been compromised.” I shifted uneasily. All my things and whatnots. No sentimental value but still, it’d be a heck ton to replace.

“Don’t worry about your belongings. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.” Jimin seemed to read my mind as he held my hand, leading me back to his black car, picking my gun up along the way. The journey to his place was long and it bordered the outskirts of Paris. It was a two-storeyed house that looked rather worn out from the outside, as if it was abandoned. The metal gate on the outside was heavily guarded.

“I have a few safe houses all over the world - Paris, China, Japan, UK and one in Canada. The US one was bombed so I have to set another one up.” Jimin remarked as we pulled up into the garage.

“I’ll tell the staff to prepare a bath and some new clothes. Make yourself at home, I’ll come get you when it’s time for dinner.” Jimin told me as two ladies appeared to take me to somewhere else in the house. He placed a brief, and somewhat hesitant, kiss on my lips and motioned for the staff to continue. My eyes lingered on his face for a while before following the staff. It was a warm bath and I soaked in the tub for a long time, just basking in the fact that Jimin was here with me now. I could see him again. A part of my heart clenched at the fact, unable to actually believe it and honestly scared that he might leave again.

I sprawled on the bed in my bathrobe, feeling at home for once in a very long time. My house was always cold and always empty. Now, there was some sort of life - Jimin’s. And it made me feel warm and safe. All I wanted to do was lay in his arms. I didn’t even realize I’d started crying until Jimin walked into the room, eyes wide. He rushed over immediately to check if I was hurt anywhere.

“You’re crying, Y/N. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Jimin asked, looking all over for any sign of injury.

“No, Jimin.” I shook my head, trying to wipe my tears. “They’re... happy tears. For the most part. I’m just so happy now that you’re here. I’ve missed you so much...” I knew I was starting to blubber incoherently and Jimin’s arms wrapped around me warmly. I inhaled, taking in his scent I’d longed for for so long.

“I’m sorry, Princess, I promise I’m not going anywhere this time.” Jimin murmured into my hair, stroking my head softly and gently.

“Please kiss me, Jimin.” I whispered, looking up at him and he complied without hesitation. His lips felt so good on mine, and like I’d been bewitched, I wrapped my arms around him to pull him closer. He sighs into the kiss, and he truly did sound like he missed me just as much as I did he.

“God, I’ve missed your lips.” He mumbled between kisses that had grown more fevered. “I missed your skin on mine. I missed how you smelled like berries and vanilla. I missed your touch. And I fucking missed how you’d moan my name like it’s the only thing you know how to say.” He growled his last sentence, yanking my hips to his, making me whimper with need. Our lips crash against each other’s once again and he unties the ribbon of my bathrobe, letting the soft fabric fall away from my body and he inhales sharply.

“How can you be even more beautiful than I remember?” His voice strained to speak as he plants soft passionate kisses down from my neck and to my chest. His lips ghosted over my bare torso, and I arch my back on reflex, letting out a soft moan. His tongue rubbed my perked nipples as his fingers slipped between my folds below.

“Fuck, you’re already this wet.” He cursed, gliding his fingers through my arousal. The touch was teasing and barely enough.

“Jimin, more... please.” My voice was shaking with pure need to feel more of him. “But please take off your damn clothes.” Jimin chuckled and removes his loose shirt with ease, letting me see his ever-defined chest and abs. He got a little bit tanner too and his V line at his hips was definitely more prominent than before. I wanted to trace it with my fingers.

“Better?” He smiled, planting a kiss in between my breasts.

“Pants too, everything.” I whined. I’d waited too long for him to only just take off one piece of clothing.

“My impatient princess.” He chuckled again, easing his pants off, leaving his member taut against his stomach. I almost licked my lips at the sight.

“What do you want to do, baby?” Jimin said, climbing on top of me, slowly sucking the skin on my collarbone.

“I want you in my mouth.” I moan as he lightly grazes his teeth over my neck. He smiled, dazzlingly so if I may add, as he sat down facing me, inviting me towards him.

“Well, what are you waiting for, princess?” He murmured. “Come get it.” I licked my lips, almost lunging at him in my eagerness to please him and make him keen with pleasure. I slowly kiss his abdomen, using my hands to spread his own arousal over his stiff member. Jimin bit his lip, clenching his fist into the sheets beside him.

“How do you want me suck you off, Jimin?” I ask, looking up at him as I lick his dick slowly in an upwards motion, my tongue flat against him and lingering just at the appendage where his head met his shaft. He twitched with need as he stared at me wildly.

“I want you to suck on my head and twist your hands around me, you do that so well, baby.”

I complied gladly, doing exactly as he asked and he rewarded me with a long string of unfiltered moans. His voice cracked as his abdomen tensed hard while I sucked him, making sure to keep pace with my fingers wrapped around him, twisting up and down at a relentless speed.

“I love that, baby. Fuck, I love what you do to me. I want your whole mouth around me - so fucking sinful.” He growls as he bucks his hips up slightly, showing how much he wanted it. I grip his lean thighs pushing my head down to engulf him fully and he groans, tilting his head back.

“Fuck... fuck, you look so fucking pretty like that, taking my dick so well.” He praised me and I hummed in acknowledgement. He slowly thrusts as I bob my head and squeeze his thighs as the same time.

“Face the other way baby, I want to taste you too. I know you’re just dripping even though you’re sucking me off.” Jimin purrs, putting his fingers on my cheek, stroking it lightly.

“You taste so good, Jimin. I missed this.” I moan as I turn around, ass to his face.

“And I missed this view. And lucky me, I’m about to taste what I’ve been missing for the past few months.” He chuckled, pressing his tongue to my core and I tense, my mouth also clenching around his member as I moan. His kitten licks served to tease me but he soon delved deeper, lapping up all of my arousal. I struggled a bit to keep up my pace with his member, overwhelmed by Jimin’s touches.

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. I could eat you out forever.” Jimin hisses, now sliding a finger inside me. “Look at you taking my fingers just like that.” I moaned as he added another one - a bit of a stretch but I wanted him too much to mind. He moaned as I hummed at his actions, clearly enjoying the sensation. The kicker was me grazing my teeth against his sensitive skin, squeezing his balls lightly as I did. He instantly clenched his abs, bucking his hips to show how much he liked it.

“Come up and ride me, baby. I want to be inside you when I cum.” He groaned, stopping his ministrations on my now soaked folds. I was pretty sure I was dripping by now, if I wasn’t already earlier. I was about to face him but I smirked, sliding downwards, back to him, throwing my head back and giving him a smirk.

“Oh, you want to deny me seeing your face now?” Jimin chuckled darkly and sat up, chest to my back. “I’ll still be able to hear you scream for me, though.” With that, he slipped his throbbing member inside me, making me gasp at the movement. It had been so long since I’d been filled with such fervour.

“God, Jimin, you feel so good.” I moaned as I slowly adjusted to his size. Jimin’s lips found respite in the crook of my neck, one of his hands on my breast and the other snaking below to my clit. Impatient to feel him, I grinded my hips, making him let out a breathy moan. He soon met my pace, our skin hitting one another’s.

“Right there, Jimin, ah-“ I cried as he hit a particular deep bundle of nerves inside me. It was almost too much as his fingers rubbed my clit simultaneously. I felt my climax approaching, knowing it would hit me like a truck.

“You’re close, baby? You like me fucking you like that?” Jimin’s voice was husky, almost dripping with the amount of need he laced in his words. “I can feel you clenching so fucking hard on me. Fuck, I want to cum inside you.”

“Jimin ah- I’m gonna cum-“ I couldn’t even finish my sentence before my body was wrecked by such intense waves of pleasure it threatened to buckle me under the pressure. I threw my head back, leaning onto Jimin’s shoulder as his name fell off my lips in a broken mantra.

Jimin wordlessly continued thrusting into me, riding me through my high, chasing his own at a hip-breaking pace. I felt him twitch inside me and I knew he was close so I grinded against him, meeting his thrusts with my hips.

“Oh fuck, baby,” Jimin groaned, gripping my hips hard, sinking his teeth into the skin on my shoulder as he released into me. When he slowed down to a stop, his grip on my hips softened so I slowly climbed off to face him.

“I missed you so much, Y/N.” Jimin murmured, bringing me close to him. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

“Yeah, that was such a dick move.” I huffed, pouting as he kissed my nose tenderly, chuckling at my pout.

“Sorry, baby.” He smiled, kissing my forehead. “Now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for dinner.”

—

A few weeks had passed and my life had settled back into the routine Jimin and I used to share at his house. I’d see him occasionally and we’d share meals together. And the occasional bang, of course. By occasional, I mean often because Jimin was insistent he show me how much he’d missed me. And when he was done with that, he would show me how he made up for him leaving me. I wasn’t complaining though.

My dad had come about a week after the man called Hoseok was captured, just to interrogate Hoseok himself and to see if I was in good hands. It hurt a little to see him care more about that Hoseok guy than me, because we barely shared a few sentences before he had to fly back to Korea. He spent most of his time talking to Jimin in the study.

This time, there’d been a development with the rebels and Hoseok was finally cracking once my father had tracked down his girlfriend, threatening him with her. It was cruel but, I no longer questioned what my father or Jimin did.

Jimin and my father exited the basement after quite a long few hours, but something was wrong. Jimin and my father seemed to be seething.

“Great job Kwon, you literally killed our only fucking lead.” Jimin hissed, frustratedly running his hands through his black hair.

“How the fuck was I to know he had a weak heart?” My father yelled back, throwing his hands up in the air. “He threatened my daughter’s safety, I’m fucking pissed, aren’t you, loverboy?”

“At least I know my limits.” Jimin countered, stepping closer. “He was a means to an end.”

“Or you’re just fucking soft because he was your hyung.” My father sneered. Jimin was poised to strike and I rushed in the middle of them to stop them from fighting.

“Daughter, get out of the way.” My father grabbed my shoulder, trying to shove me away as he clocked his gun right at Jimin.

“Dad!” I exclaimed. “What the hell, put the gun down!”

“Get out of the way, I’d wanted to do this for the longest fucking time. Him and his whole fucking clan deserve it.” My father hissed, venom almost dripping from his voice.

“Put the gun down!” I cried. “What the hell happened?”

“Your father beat Hoseok until he suffered a heart attack and died before he could give us any more information.” Jimin said quietly.

“Dad...” I turned to him.

“So you’re siding with this fucker now?” My father yelled, veins threatening to burst at his temples. “Just because he dicks you down, you turn on your father?”

“Dad, I didn’t even say anything!” I protested, trying to reason with him. “Why are you so upset? Please just calm down and we’ll talk!”

Once I saw my dad lower the gun a little, I lunged forward and disarmed him, catching him off guard.

“Y/N-“ My dad said, grasping for his gun but I threw it into the kitchen, far away from him.

“Why the hell are you overreacting, Dad?” It was my turn to ask the questions. He was acting strange. “Why are you so angry when you were the one that made a mistake?” No response. He merely stood there, face frozen without emotion. It was so suspicious. My dad killed our only lead to the rebels, and now was threatening to kill Jimin too. I’m sure Jimin must have picked up on it by now.

“Princess-“ Jimin’s voice held a warning. I knew he was trying to stop me.

“No, Jimin, don’t.” I shushed him. My brain was whirling with possibilities. “I’ve had enough of him hiding things.”

Suddenly, I heard it. The loud explosion that came from outside. And it happened again. My ears were ringing painfully and and my head felt like it was going to explode. I could feel my legs turn to jelly as I crumbled to the floor, not understanding what was going on. I could faintly hear Jimin call out to me, but my vision was blurred as I felt blackness envelope my consciousness. The last thing I saw was my father hitting the back of Jimin’s head.

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wqrfwasf · 3 years

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the stump bound up in leather

One day I will be like him. Then I made my way to the far corner of the convention floor to mingle with the Idaho delegation. A crank would serve me better.” Though, if truth be told, he did not want a crossbow. When faced with a severely injured person who has lost a lot of blood, at the scene of an accident or violent attack perhaps, is it better to resuscitate them with blood, or some other form of fluid like a saline drip?. Easy as falling off a pig … though falling off this particular pig was harder than it looked. She steadfastly refused to get her driver's license and would always Uber everywhere she went. The sound from the stock Zalman fan was was noticeably running when standing 5 feet from the system. Runaway about the 15th ghete de schi of August last, Joe, a yellow man; small, about 5 feet 8 or 9 inches high, and about 20 years of age. Whether they were shouting encouragement or mocking him he could not have said for certain, though he had a fair notion. Their armor was silver plate polished to a mirror sheen, but underneath, she knew, every man of them wore a hair shirt. His other hand was missing, severed at the wrist, the stump bound up in leather. She enjoys the work because it is about "bringing new life into the world." She hopes to "meet a good man and have five retros kabátok children with him." (AP Photo/Wong Maye E). They mean to shave me. That left only Trant, the feeble Boros Blount, and Qyburn’s mute monster Robert Strong to protect the young king and royal family... Close your eyes, she told herself. She died, and the prince crossed himself for joy. Now, take a look at this giant space squid or whatever it is that the Guardians are fighting. There was a saying Jon had heard from the older men at Castle Black: the Wall has more moods than Mad King Aerys, they’d say, or sometimes, the Wall has more moods than a woman. “A wiser prince would have known that you cannot send an ape to do a man’s work.” The queen’s men laughed, and several grinned at Davos. Common in the stage 2 build is the addition of a new CAM. Because they going to have, like, one (WBC) workout, exhibition games and play. "Before they [Tower] do another concert, we're certainly going to have to be looking at them for better planning, certainly not on a Friday during rush hour."Only a handful of minor injuries were reported, police at the concert said."One guy got dropped on his head and one guy walked into the side of the tour bus," said Montgomery County Police Lt. Ledford and Erik Baskin assisted on Boje's blast from the high slot. Barth had been a blacksmith’s son who rose to be King’s Hand during the reign of Jaehaerys the Conciliator. Just six of Florida's 67 counties account for more than half of the state's 89 executions. Europe also will experience a decline in the birth rate over the next four decades. So I keep on dancing. (NOT PLAYER BASED.)Finally the local weatherman had a correct forecast, it stayed dry throughout the game and for the tailgate hallelujah! TL was correct there was time in the first half it looked twin set cardigan outlet like it was going to be a competitive game and the poof it was 9 5 at the half. He says that in the new year, enrollment will double, adding six hundred new artists, designers and freelancers to its membership. .”. Hizdahr at least knew how to smile... Early Mowden pressure broke through to Yarm's try line but they were fortunately pushed into touch. There must be a whole grove of weirwoods growing up above us.. On the production front, production designer Gary Freeman along mickey egeres babakocsiwith costume designer Joanna Johnston, replicate the era to perfection and this is precisely captured by cinematographer Don Burgess's lens. Only a short drive away from the clamour of Venice in one direction and LA airport in the

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other, it would be blissfully tranquil here if not for a loud, honking noise that at times makes it hard to hear what Mycoskie is saying as we settle on the deck. "The Thin Man" series of movies was to the 1930s as "Moonlighting" was to the 1980s. They have almost invariably two residences, and spend less than half the year on their estates. The more respectable citizens in vain try to compose them; it is quite as hopeful to reason with a pack of hounds, and the only way is to smuggle the suspected person out of the state retros kabátok as quickly as possible. Manager Alan Eaton suggested trying Ripper, a Shiraz wine from the Hope Estate disco duro externo pita in Western Australia that has a taste of tobacco, chocolate and vanilla. My first clue I was Santa was at the Beal Air Force Base range one fall day. “No crow. Economic shopping with Flipkart couponsIf you think you can't avail a discount on your online shopping, think again!!! We, one of the leading website, have got biciclete pret the widest assortment of Flipkart coupons along with other retailers' coupons. Additionally, because the children have zapatillas guess mujer corte ingles been removed from their families, clothing with family centric wording or images is not distributed.. You know, it was a lot of water and it was a lot of mud, but it didn't have the force as this storm.". In the span of a year, Garcia lost a 6 foot 10 North Carolina signee (John Henson) but gained newfound admiration from bay area peers. My mother and Colin came upstairs. Here, I fear, your worth is somewhat less. The first five songs went awry with half hearted vocals and distracted glances. In 1922, Clark agreed to sponsor a series of outdoor concerts. Want to join now or donate to SBH? (6600 Kalanianaole Hwy, 212, Honolulu, HI 96825). That was Theon Turncloak’s work, remember? How many of our grudging friends do you imagine we’d retain if the truth were known? Only Lady Barbrey, whom you would turn into a pair of boots … inferior boots. So, has the Kuga got what it takes to beat the king of the urban jungle?When it comes to kerbside appeal, the sharp lines of the Ford certainly look good enough take the crown. Only her maid, a very charming French girl, was initiated into all her secrets, but one could rely on that girl absolutely. "Of course you take advantage of it. About the time that Smylie’s pamphlet came out, the Presbyterian Church was convulsed with the trial of the galeb spodnjice Rev. The captain-general wriggled his blistered toes in his footbath. Maybe they'll relay the data back like a Voltron daisy chain.. The great hall was dim and smoky. “Beautiful and peaceful,” the prince said. "But Henry was a machinist, not a horse shoer he invented steel puddling and the machines that made railroad spikes, that's the one that made him all the money. When he was buttonholed on the issue, Bettman flashed a cold smile and allowed that the airline had every right to direct its sponsorship dollars local agreements with the Canadian franchises plus $1.5 million a year for the naming rights to the home of the Maple Leafs anywhere it wished. (Photo by Win McNamee/Getty Images).. But they're in a tight spot right now and it looks to just be getting tighter for the future. I had two. When he looked over at me, he said. Hamlet is besieged with the will to avenge, yet can't bring himself to act..

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blogparadiseisland · 6 years

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Nature Saving Scotland’s Heritage From the Rising Seas

Nature Saving Scotland’s Heritage From the Rising Seas Nature Saving Scotland’s Heritage From the Rising Seas http://www.nature-business.com/nature-saving-scotlands-heritage-from-the-rising-seas/

Nature

Off the north coast of Scotland, Orkney’s soft green landscapes hold a trove of things from everyday life before history was written.

More than 3,000 archaeological sites — among them standing stone circles, Norse halls and a Neolithic tomb graffitied by Vikings — have endured for millenniums, scattered across the roughly 70 islands that make up the Orkney archipelago.

At Skara Brae, one of Europe’s best-preserved Stone Age villages, kitchens built around 3180 B.C. are fitted with hearths and cupboards, bedsteads and doors that could be bolted shut.

Today, in forays to remote spits of land, people are working to save some of these places for posterity from the climate changes accelerated by human activity.

About half of Orkney’s 3,000 sites, many built before Stonehenge or the pyramids, are under threat from those changes, according to the county archeologist. Some are already being washed away.

Since 1970, Orkney beaches have eroded twice as fast as in the previous century. Others that had been stable are now shrinking. Rains, falling heavier and more often, are dissolving the crusts of soil and sand packs that protect remnants of civilizations.

These threats, now familiar at world heritage sites around the globe, are being answered in Scotland by archaeologists, citizen-scientists, students, government agencies and academics.

Their work is urgent. Orkney’s stories are recorded in disappearing ink.

“Heritage is falling into the sea,” said Prof. Jane Downes, director of the Archaeology Institute at the University of Highlands and Islands. “It’s a very dramatic and obvious sign of sea level rise and increased storminess.”

Sanday

There are more than

100 sites in this area.

Rousay

ORKNEY ISLANDS

Skara Brae

SCOTLAND

5 MILES

Sanday

There are more than

100 sites in this area.

Rousay

ORKNEY ISLANDS

Skara Brae

SCOTLAND

5 MILES

Sanday

Rousay

There are more than

100 sites in this area.

ORKNEY ISLANDS

Skara Brae

SCOTLAND

5 MILES

Sanday

There are more

than 100 sites

in this area.

Rousay

ORKNEY ISLANDS

Skara Brae

SCOTLAND

10 MILES

By Sarah Almukhtar | Source: Historic Environment Scotland Canmore. Note: Archaeological sites date from prehistoric times through the 20th century.

From around the world, troops of archaeologists and students descend in the summers to dig, sift and catalogue imperiled places. There are scrambles for funds. “We’re focused on coastal sites because they’re going to be gone,” Professor Downes said.

At many spots, the only plausible kind of preservation is documentation — done swiftly.

In 1983, an archaeologist drew sketches of a Neolithic chambered tomb at the tip of a peninsula on Sanday island. Then the site was left essentially untouched until last year, when other researchers returned, planning to deploy new tools that would tell them where the people of that area came from and what they ate. But the tomb and its archaeology had shrunk: five feet had been lost to cliff erosion, and it was evident that the remaining 40 feet were headed for the water as well.

At the end of the summer digging season, students packed the site with rock and a thick plastic membrane. Depending on the severity of the winter storms, the protection might keep some of the fine sediments from washing away, and also allow another year of excavation at the deteriorating tomb.

In a short walk along the south shore of Rousay Island, a stunning arc of human activity comes into view. One mile covers 50 centuries: the Stone, Bronze and Iron Ages. The Picts, the Viking era, rule by the Norse, and Scottish landlords.

The burial of a cow on Rousay in 1963 led to the discovery of human graves and, in them, evidence of long-distance travel. For instance, a silver brooch inlaid with amber and gold filigree from about 750 A.D, is similar to Irish jewelry of the era, said Julie Gibson, a lecturer with the University of Highlands and Islands and the co-author, with the photographer Frank Bradford, of “Rising Tides: The Loss of Coastal Heritage in Orkney.”

Nearby, in a Viking cemetery, Ms. Gibson said: “They found two guys buried in boats. One was born north of the Arctic Circle.”

At the Knowe of Swandro, on Rousay, tribes built atop the homes of predecessors, creating layers of habitation back to Neolithic times. One discovery at Swandro this summer was a rock anvil used 1,500 years ago by a Pictish coppersmith, still smudged with the carbon grime of the forge.

Smithy’s handprint

10 centimeters

Swandro-Orkney Coastal Archaeology Trust

“You can see where the smithy put his hand and his knee,” said Steve Dockrill, a senior lecturer at the University of Bradford.

The anvil is among the finds that have emerged since 2010, when Julie Bond, an archaeology professor at Bradford, strolling the beach at Swandro, spotted a stone jutting up. She performed a field test. “I gave it a kick,” Professor Bond said. “The kick is an important archaeological tool.”

The Swandro project has a charitable trust to support equipment, tests and housing. Virtually all the Orkney digs rely on donations to supplement thousands of hours of free labor from students. In early August, as professors and students from Bradford, Highlands and Islands, Orkney College, the City University of New York and elsewhere finished their summer fieldwork, they hoped the sites would be there the following year.

Each tide washes away midden, domestic waste heaps, that provide a “cultural and economic biography,” Professor Bond said. “We did core sampling at low tide eight years ago, and you could see settlement materials. When we did it again a couple of years ago, it was gone.”

From 2012 to 2016, more than 1,200 volunteers, trained by the Scottish Coastal Heritage at Risk project at the University of St. Andrews, mapped vulnerable sites in Scotland, scores of them on the Orkney and Shetland islands. The report is, in effect, a guide for archaeological triage.

In 2015, a community group on Sanday painstakingly moved a mysterious Stone Age structure known as a burnt mound to a heritage center, away from the shorefront where it was being battered.

Elsewhere, residents are sandbagging an 11th century graveyard to keep skeletons from spilling out. Public agencies are using laser scans to map changes to the beach in front of Skara Brae, where the waters of the Bay of Skaill lap ever closer.

A storm revealed parts of Skara Brae in 1850.

To protect the site from the advancing bay, a sea wall was built in 1927.

There had been no bay in the village’s Stone Age heyday.

Thanks to the sea wall, Skara Brae remains intact, Ms. Gibson said, in contrast with an unprotected mill a few hundred yards away that has been demolished by tides and storms since 1972. Similarly, the Midhowe Broch, an Iron Age tower on Rousay, has been successfully defended since 1934 by a sea wall. “We’re learning where physical structures can be used for a limited time, and others that can work permanently,” Ms. Gibson said. “Permanently, meaning 100 years.”

Natural changes in climate over the last 15,000 years made human habitation not only possible on the islands, but attractive to succeeding generations. The farmers and fishers put little pressure on the land, other than depleting the timber. Stone was a primary building material. Things lasted.

With tide and time, most beaches will grow and shrink as the sand and sediment subtracted from one spot are added to another. But nature’s rhythms are being accelerated by human actions.

“Sea level in Orkney has been rising over thousands of years, and so coastal flooding and beach erosion is nothing new,” said Jim Hansom, a professor of geomorphology at the University of Glasgow and principal investigator for Dynamic Coast, a report commissioned by the Scottish government to assess coastal change. “What is of concern is that the extent and pace of erosion since the 1970s has increased.”

Some Orkney beaches have narrowed an average of 16 inches per year since 1970, compared to an annual average loss of eight inches between 1890 and 1970, according to data in Dynamic Coast. In addition, Professor Hansom said, more beaches are eroding.

Rainfall in Northern Scotland increased nearly 26 percent from 1961 to 2011, according to Historic Environment Scotland, the public steward of Scotland’s historic sites, which has studied risks to Scottish heritage from climate shifts. “The changes have speeded up,” said Mairi Davies, climate change manager for the agency. They are, she said, significantly faster than at any other point in the last 100 years.

The new extremes have led to archaeological epiphanies.

Walking across Cata Sand on the island of Sanday on a windy December day in 2015, Professor Downes and colleagues noticed an upright stone and red soil that turned out to be hearth scrapings. They found an early Neolithic house, older than those at Skara Brae.

A small dune had protected the site for thousands of years.

But a storm in 2012 ripped the dune away.

The next one may erase the Stone Age house.

With students and archaeologists from her own school and the University of Central Lancashire, Professor Downes has spent the last three summers digging between tides and documenting the artifacts.

The waters and storms that exposed these sites will also, before long, destroy them. The coastal survey forecasts that Cata Sand will lose about 80 feet of beach by 2050.

“That’s why this site is so important in trying to understand the lives of past societies,” Ross Drummond, a student at the University of Highlands and Islands, said. “The archaeology will be washed away for good, and future generations will only have our records and findings to go on to understand the story of Cata.”

In 1999, a few Orkney treasures were listed as world heritage monuments by Unesco, which said the islands had been a “center of innovation and experimentation” in art and architecture that spread throughout the Neolithic world. Among them is Maeshowe, a passage tomb built in 3000 B.C. Its entryway aligns with the setting midwinter sun, much like a tomb at Newgrange, 500 miles south in Ireland. (More than 4,000 years after Maeshowe was built, Vikings broke in and carved runes on the walls. A fit-to-print graffito roughly translates as: “Thorfinn wrote these runes.”)

The most sprawling neolithic Orkney site, the Ness of Brodgar, is only now emerging on a neck of land surrounded by water. Its discovery was pure serendipity.

In 2003, a couple hired a farmer to plow a sheep field outside their retirement home to ready the ground for a wildflower meadow. On the final turn, he hit a stone — one that had notches carved into it. The stone was part of a group of monumentally scaled structures, all buried.

Near them was an impossibly massive wall, also buried, 18 feet thick in places. Until then, the area’s landscape had been dominated by two circles of standing stones, the Ring of Brodgar and the Stones of Stenness (they appear on the album cover of Van Morrison’s “The Philosopher’s Stone”).

The Ness totals six acres, about eight American football fields, and is rich with artwork and heaps of cattle bone from mass feasts, said Nick Card, director of the site. With less than 10 percent excavated, he said, 35,000 items have been collected.

Archaeologists and students trowel the soil, whisk dirt off promising bits, then bag them.

“I thought you’d have to be really lucky to find anything,” Kaehlin Terry, 22, a senior from Willamette University in Oregon, said. “But every 20 seconds, you come up with pieces of bone, stone tools, pottery.”

Across vast historical ages, ordinary time scales blur.

The grand spaces at the Ness of Brodgar, like the homely kitchens of Skara Brae and the tomb at Maeshowe, were built thousands of years before scribes first told of Buddha and Moses, Lord Vishnu and Jesus Christ.

These were the sturdy vessels of everyday life 5,000 years ago.

Humanity’s own fossils.

Interested in keeping up with climate change?

Read More | https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2018/09/25/climate/scotland-orkney-islands-sea-level.html | Jim Dwyer, Josh Haner

Nature Saving Scotland’s Heritage From the Rising Seas, in 2018-09-26 10:43:24

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