book clasp

5
1690s book with filigree silver binding - National Library of Sweden

This binding is an exquisite example of Danish filigree technique
from the 1690s.It belongs to the National Library’s Huseby
Collection and was once owned by Karren Mogensdotter Skoug.
Her name and the year 1692 are engraved on the inside of the clasps. -(x)
The Bookshop That Has (Almost) Everything

fun fact this is loosely based on a real bookshop I once found somewhere in greenwich idk exactly where it is but if ever find urself around the area look out for it its v cute and v tiny

summary: Phil works at a bookshop. Dan buys a book one day, and, in a ploy to see Phil, keeps returning with more and more obscure requests so Phil has to spend more time searching. After Dan leaves with ‘cactus maintenance: a memoir’, Phil starts to suspect something’s up.

words: 7.3k

-

“Look,” Phil sighs when he catches sight of the book Dan’s clutching today. “I know there’s a very good chance you keep cacti and you just wanna maintain them and it’s probably wrong of me to assume otherwise, but-…can I ask you something?”

Dan gulps, putting the book titled “Cactus Maintenance: A Memoir” down on the counter.

“Do you actually need half of the books you come in here for?” he asks softly. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’s a good chance you might actually ride motorcycles, study bricklaying, want to know more about frogspawn or- you know, wanna look after your cacti, but…” he shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s just- um, you’re the first person I’ve met that, you know, buys one book every single day. When do you get time to read them all?”

-

i.

Graveland’s Books is the kind of place you’d only come across if you were either very bored, very desperate, or very lost.

It hides on the tail end of an alleyway just behind the village market, and the gnarled wooden beams, the glass oil lanterns lining either side of the aged brickwork and the rusty bronze bell hanging above the door would fool anyone into thinking they’d just stepped out of 2016 and into the 18th century. If it wasn’t for the mobile phone shop sitting directly opposite, of course.

It’s not big in size, with a staff room and an office the size of a postage stamp upstairs and just about enough room to fit two free standing bookshelves in the middle of the shop, but books spill into every single crack. Stacks and stacks of fiction and history and travel and biographies narrow the aisles between the shelves, and it’s all too easy to trip over a random pile of books in the middle of the floor when you’re not concentrating properly.

But, for a job running along the sidelines of university, Phil enjoys it. He’d certainly rather spend his time flicking through a story about a cursed mushroom than stack supermarket shelves and deal with obnoxious co-workers, anyway.

Keep reading

3

Directorivm Benedictinvm Perpetvvm: siue Ordo Celebrandi Divina Officia, Divrna, Noctvrna, Missas, Alia : Secundum Ritus Breuiarij Benedictini a Pavlo Qvinto Pont. Max. approbati, & Missalis Romani: Eiusdem Breuiarij Editionibus Venetae, Romanae, & alijs accomodatus
Rorschachii 1621 J Schroterus

contemporary full vellum binding blind tooled over wooden boards

A Little Lost Thing

So here is my waaaaaaay overdue/late CSSV gift for @themmaswan. I’m sorry it took me so long to get your gift posted, and that I wasn’t the most diligent Valentine. And I’m sorry this gift isn’t anything super spectacular (as much as I tried, the idea I wanted to write just didn’t want to come together), but I really hope you enjoy it. It’s a little flangsty thing because apparently the only thing that wanted to come to me for this fic was sadness with a bit fluff.

—–

She caught the first glimpses of it the night he moved in - starting with their bed, of all things.

Emma bounded up the stairs. “Okay, dad’s on sheriff duty for the rest of the night.” She kept her attention focused on her phone, typing out a text to Henry as made her way towards the bedroom. “And I ordered us some pizza. Should make for a good ‘move in’ night, finally…”

She stopped short just inside the doorway as she pocketed her phone. Killian was standing, staring at the bed, a well worn book clasped tightly in his hand. His lone chest of trinkets sat open on the dresser behind him.

“Everything okay?”

Keep reading

dreams

Originally posted by bwipsul

◇ “Have you any dreams you’d like to sell?”

◇ Jimin x reader

◇ wizard!au

◇ a small self indulgent jimin scenario…….. I should be completing requests rn but I’ve had this idea since literally forever soooooo

◇ slightly based off the song dreams by bastille and gabrielle aplin, obviously not as dark as that song is but that one line in the song inspired this whole thing lmao

•••

The slip of paper in your hands feels awfully small as you peer up at the shop in front of you. Jimin’s Emporium of Lost Dreams is written in your friend’s familiar scrawl, the address scribbled right underneath it. 3PM — don’t be late! Love, Taehyung.

By far, the best and worst gift that you had received for your birthday was a session — an appointment — at Jimin’s Emporium of Lost Dreams. Taehyung swore that after he had visited the quaint, duck egg blue shop a few years ago, he hadn’t had a nightmare since — and with the sudden influx of stress-induced nightmares that plagued your nights, he had been thoughtful enough to set an appointment for you.

It was a good gift, admittedly, because the nightmares really were bothering you. More often than not, you’d awake at some unholy time in a cold sweat and with tear-filled eyes, flashes of failure and disappointment the only thing on your mind.

On the other hand, you didn’t fancy somebody prying in your head and witnessing some very personal dreams. It was embarrassing to say the least, and the fact that this Jimin would be buying them off of you and replacing them by dreamless sleep was even more unsettling.

You bite your lip, inspecting the exterior of the shop. It was small, old but well-kept; duck egg blue walls with a sign with a curving font spelling out Jimin’s Emporium of Lost Dreams. Pastel flowers in white ceramic plant pots stood beside the white painted door, twisting and climbing up the door frame. It was pretty, you’d give it that — it was a shame that to any mortal passing, they’d simply see a run-down, abandoned shop front.

You could just walk away right now, if you wanted to. Your heart sure as hell wants to, but your brain is much more logical. Besides, Taehyung paid for this! You couldn’t have him wasting his money…

So you shove the piece of paper into the pocket of your jeans, heaving a nervous sigh as you finally harness enough willpower to begin the trek to the front door.

The bell above the door sounds ten times louder than it actually was when you push open the door and step inside, revealing a high ceilings and walls upon walls of shelves filled with bottles of all shapes and sizes.

The interior is strangely cozy. It’s much bigger than it looks on the outside, a large circular desk setup in the centre which is obviously the front desk, and an iron spiral staircase at the back that led to what you assume is the second floor.

The place smells of old books and sunlight, and the silence soothes your nerves almost instantly as you walk further into the shop, peering around curiously for any sign of life. Hm. No-one.

Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you find yourself strolling leisurely along the tall walls, inspecting each bottle that you come across — some, swirling gently and pearlescent, beautiful shades of pastel blue and pink — others forming ominous pictures and twisting violently, murky yellow and green.

One in particular catches your eye; light, light pink in colour, glittery and iridescent. The strange liquid takes the shape of the tall, slim bottle it’s kept in, and the way the liquid swirls and tumbles gently is hypnotizing. You reach a hand out to touch it—

“Hello, there,” a voice greets softly, the source coming from just inches to your right. You yelp, jerking away from both the bottle and the man who had spoken, a hand on your heart.

“I didn’t mean to startle you!” The man rushes, brows raised. He’s a tiny bit taller than you, with chubby cheeks and chocolate hair and coffee eyes. His clothes consist of a set of peach and pale blue warlock robes, and if it weren’t for the shock you had just gotten you would be blushing at the very sight of him. “I’m Jimin — welcome to my emporium!”

“_-_____,” you muster up as he bustles around, fiddling with something under his desk and then conjuring up a brand new glass bottle out of nowhere.

“Beautiful name,” he grins, looking up from where he was rummaging through a wooden box of corks — this time, you feel a familiar heat rise on your cheeks and you’re only glad he’s too preoccupied to notice. “What can I do for you today, _____? Have you any dreams you’d like to sell?”

“I have a session booked,” you say uncertainly, clasping your hands together awkwardly. “By Kim Taehyung?”

“Oh!” Jimin’s eyes widen in recognition as he fishes out a cork and grabs the bottle, too. “I remember. Well, come this way—” He begins to lead you to the iron spiral staircase, beckoning you along with a friendly smile— “Right up here—”

The upstairs is just as pretty and strange as the floor below it, except it’s much more bright. There’s at least one window on each of the four white walls, and again, there are multiple shelves filled with vial and bottles. Apart from the mahogany desk and chair in the room, there’s an examining table pushed into the corner — except this one is covered with patterned sheets and is complete with an embroidered pillow.

“Take a seat,” Jimin urges you, gesturing to the examining table. He himself props himself down on the chair beside the desk, turning it to face you. “So, your friend’s booked you for a Dreamless Sleep session — it’s in the name, really — are you okay with that?”

“I just want the nightmares to be finished with,” you murmur, trying not to think too hard about them. Instead, you focus on how Jimin reaches into his desk and retrieves a small vial of a plum coloured liquid, pushing off of his chair and crossing the room until he stands in front of you.

“I have to put you to sleep to get started — this will do the job almost instantly, so get comfy,” he teases gently, handing you the bottle. “Be warned, though: it may not taste the best.”

You let out a nervous laugh, adjusting your position on the table before you unscrew the cork with shaky hands. You don’t give yourself another second to doubt your choice before you down the potion and your vision fades to black.

•••

It was always sad to see someone come into the shop looking for a dreamless sleep. Quite frankly, Jimin found it disheartening that one wouldn’t want to dream — dreams were where anything was possible!

But of course, the customer was always right, and Jimin knew everyone had their own reason for wanting to sleep without dreams and nightmares.

So when you came into his shop on a Wednesday afternoon with your sundress and folded arms and flickering eyes, Jimin was fully prepared to give you what you wanted. He could tell that the nightmares that you had experienced had taken a toll on you, and he wanted nothing more than to make you happy again.

He put you to sleep and began to look for the nightmare trapped in the confines of your mind, hidden in the depths of your dreams and waiting for their turn to strike. When he finds it, he extracts it like he’s done million of times before, the silky strands of pure black floating into the bottle he had prepared.

And he’s about to wake you up — really, he is — but he sees you turn in your sleep, brows turned up in relief when no nightmare materialises in your dreamland, and his heart skips a beat.

The pink potion he had caught you ogling at earlier may be expensive — happy dreams are very desirable, after all — but he thinks it might just be worth it, especially when he’s inserted the dream into your mind and he sees you smile.

(And maybe, just maybe, you dream about him.)

yay for cool banners

sup nerds i decided to collide all of the masterposts and masterposts of masterposts into one giant ass masterpost because why the fuck not
here we goooo
(EDIT: Some of the links didn’t work, so i had to link them to the post on my blog!!)

other masterpost

  • fruitcroc’s makeup/beauty masterpost
  • br0k3n-dreamland’s movie/tv masterpost
  • asbakes’s hugs ass masterpost of cool stuff
  • starrify-everything’s writing masterpost
  • diamondhero’s movie masterpost
  • ahoyjay’s movie masterpost
  • theworldwillbedreaming’s 2014 resource masterpost
  • perchancetodance’s masterpost of masterposts
  • southerngothic’s ‘greatest cinematography masterpost’
  • lovegud’s book rec list/masterpost
  • bizarreismm’s creepy videos and horror movies masterpost
  • swagcola’s movie masterpost
  • hellyeahmasterpost’s steampunk movie masterpost
  • herhmione’s writing masterpost
  • resource post for trans women
  • bakrua’s 'literally everything; masterpost
  • vodkadean’s 'eveything you didn’t know you needed’ masterpost
  • masterpost of creepy wikipedia articles
  • diminishes’s ultimate teen movie masterpost (80’s to present)
  • icanttellyoubutiknowitsmine’s 2014 masterpost
  • rosydrops’s become an adult masterpost
  • ussromanov’s resource masterpost
  • another movie masterpost
  • nicois’s masterpost
  • remoslupin’s “the really useful bits’ masterpost
  • music masterpost for different moods
  • those animated Japanese emoticons masterpost
  • classic doctor who masterpost
  • not-so-scary halloween movies
  • halloween movie masterpost
  • broadway musicals masterpost
  • homestuck generators masterpost

tumblr stuff

  • how to do cool effects in text posts
  • more text tricks for posts
  • themes, icons, backgrounds, favicons, etc. masterpost
  • you can look at posts on a certain day
  • places to get rlly simple themes
  • the new photoset pixel sizes

cool gadgets and gizmos aplenty

  • things and stuff
  • phone charger that wont tear
  • cute winged scarfs!!!
  • fandom-based nail polish collections
  • fandom-based eyeshadow
  • funny desk-must-haves
  • hairbrush flask??
  • cute zodiac necklaces
  • rad labeling dog collars
  • best deodorant you’ll ever use
  • cute book clasp purse
  • make a ticket stub into a pillow!!
  • wallet ninja
  • apps
  • apps every productive student needs
  • The Rape Defender app!!!!
  • SafeTrek app!!
  • TalkTo app (social anxiety helper)
  • aggressive dude wont leave you alone?? feminist quote line!
  • websites and extensions
  • affordable dorm room furniture website
  • finding out art sources
  • cheap student travel flights
  • CreepFace
  • BeeLine reader
  • archieveposter!!!
  • post limit checker
  • WolframAlpha
  • Elf ears store
  • Amazon college kid’s prime
  • places to buy cheaper textbooks
  • how to find things you want for cheaper
  • GamePhobias
  • Duolingo
  • livefeed of porn searches??
  • unisex makeup company!!
  • reference manager for term papers
  • games
  • new cool MMO game you should totes play
  • drinking games??
  • alter-ego game
  • 90s games!!!
  • rad multi-fandom game
  • game that tells you what kind of thinker you are!!
  • become the god of the internet and remove trolls game
  • 100 running songs??
  • more running songs
  • studying playlist

thinks you can do to help others!!!

  • help puppies and kitties in need with 1 click
  • tiGERS IN DANGER
  • help people for different reasons
  • don’t bathe rabbits 
  • cat 'head pressing’ against walls?
  • dog CPR
  • cute undies that send pads to girls in need!!!

calm down friend

  • cute pixel games
  • feeling overwhelmed?
  • cute websites to remember
  • better ways to calm down others
  • for anxiety attacks
  • what to do if friend has panic attack
  • Making a "happy folder”
  • how to not talk to kids???
  • easing depression symptoms
  • more things to do
  • funny websites to use
  • lots of alternatives
  • international help lines
  • tumblr helps with suicide
  • more websites
  • cool game
  • dealing with depression
  • facts about anti-depressants
  • beating anxiety without medicine
  • helpful links masterpost!!
  • what  you feel affects your body temp
  • make sand art to help calm down
  • about panic/anxiety attacks
  • hobbies to reduce anxiety
  • helping someone with an anxiety attack
  • having a bad night?
  • what you SHOULD say to people dealing with disorders
  • think no one cares?
  • how to deal with a broken heart

life hacks and facts

  • life hacks post
  • life hacks post 2
  • life hacks post 3
  • life hacks post 4
  • life hacks post 5
  • life hacks post 6
  • life hacks post 7
  • life hacks post 8
  • psychology facts post
  • psychology facts post 2
  • psych2go post 3
  • ultrafacts post
  • ultrafacts post 2
  • studying ultrafacts post 3
  • pool life hacks??
  • clothing life hacks
  • clothing life hacks 2
  • bra lifehacks!!
  • packing hack
  • dog owners life hacks
  • winged eyeliner hack
  • Target shopper’s hacks
  • Chinese take out box life hack
  • math functions hack
  • makeup with spoon hack
  • losing weight tips
  • self defense tips!!!
  • self defense tips 2
  • cool parenting tips
  • period tips
  • tips and facts you never knew
  • useful websites
  • we have more than 5 senses???
  • 3 theories of time travel
  • 12 foods not to feed to a dog
  • dog’s sight vs humans
  • we’ve been eating fruit wrong lmao
  • 6 abs workouts that work better than crunches
  • 25 ways to show affection
  • 2014 full moon dates
  • stuff nobody tells you about getting an apartment
  • if we lost oxygen for 5 seconds
  • how long would it take to finish a tv show
  • list of band’s fanmail addresses

food-y things

  • apple pie inside of an apple
  • twisted pizza breadsticks
  • the cookie cup
  • giant fluffy pancake
  • cookie in a mug recipe
  • brownie in a mug recipe
  • pizza burger
  • buncha yummy food things
  • The Kim Possible 'Naco"
  • The Tea Wheel
  • Make ramen taste better
  • 36 homemade popiscle recipes
  • 18 recipes you can make in the microwave
  • s'mores stuffed pizza cookie
  • pinata cookies
  • strawberries and cream mug cake
  • starbucks drinks recipes
  • cinnamon pull aparts
  • Funfetti Stuffed Chocolate MM Cookie Cake
  • deep dish chocolate chip microwave cookie
  • 34 two-ingredient recipies
  • TARDIS cake
  • toffee apples
  • Kingdom Hearts II ice cream

drawing and writing things

  • paper to digital art
  • firealpaca art program!!
  • practice drawing poses
  • boot anatomy tutorial
  • coloring hair tutorial
  • glowy art tutorial
  • some art tutorial
  • arm tutorial 
  • girls and guys pose tutorial
  • another pose tutorial
  • more poses tutorials wow
  • drawing hands tutorial
  • pixel art tutorial
  • bunch of tutorials
  • drawing people tutorial
  • drawing heads tutorial
  • drawing Homestuck character’s hair
  • drawing Ariel
  • drawing eyes
  • drawing eyes 2
  • drawing boobs
  • drawing boobs lel
  • drawing rooms
  • drawin dat ass like
  • overlay tutorial
  • gif tutorials
  • coloring gifs
  • pulsing light effect
  • brush masterpost
  • hair colors
  • natural skin tone colors
  • folds in clothing and windblown things
  • simple tips to make your art look better
  • paint tools sai tips
  • tips for tablets
  • more art references
  • how to love your art
  • random drawing generator
  • writing
  • character development sheet
  • incontrovertible insult formula?
  • insult generator
  • character trait generator
  • homestuck troll generator
  • fictional world creator
  • using correct forms for french?
  • typing edit rules?
  • 'thy’ 'thou’ 'thee’ and 'thine’
  • royalty titles
  • cant find the right word?
  • family relations chart
  • writing body language
  • writing outlines
  • inflating and deflating word length
  • england vs us slang
  • eye color chart
  • more eye color names
  • 99 ways to beat writer’s block

how to’s and what to do’s

  • how to recognize artists by their paintings
  • how to track anons
  • how to tie a bowtie
  • how to tie a bowtie 2
  • turn off flashy gifs on tumblr
  • how to remove permanent marker from everything
  • how to help pay off your student loans with volunteer time
  • remove your information from this site now!!
  • how to break out of zipties
  • how to get rid of lint pills
  • how to delete tourists from your pictures
  • how to make a secret computer monitor
  • how to make a otp pendant
  • how to identify body language 
  • how to cut tomatoes effectively
  • how to color eggs with onion shells
  • how to do special effect stage makeup
  • how to disappear online
  • how to buy a good wig off of ebay
  • how to make a mini matchstick pistol
  • how to warped tour
  • how to make an 8-bit valentines day card
  • how to make a presentable art portfolio 
  • how to cover up tattoos
  • how to make your Mind Palace visible
  • how to balance a checkbook
  • how to make a tiny bow and arrow
  • how to make moss graffiti 
  • how to tie scarfs cutely
  • how to effectively pull an all nighter and do well on your exam
  • how to reblog long posts as text rather than links
  • how to pick locks
  • how to multiply large numbers in your head
  • how to make gradient and striped nails
  • how to build the perfect resume
  • how to cast and mold armor for cosplay
  • how to make invisible shoes for cosplay
  • cosplay makeup for guy characters
  • what to watch on netflix
  • learn Japanese cheat sheets c:
  • learn Korean in 15 minutes
  • learn Elvish
  • things to do with notebooks
  • be cremated into a vinyl record
  • 15 kid friendly scientific experiments
  • cool hair do’s
  • acne chart!!
  • college advice
  • binder help for trans guys

sex ed

  • contraceptive help
  • how to use a condom
  • 'ap sex ed’
  • sex positions???
  • Yvis’s facts about the va-jay-jay
Struck (Part Four)

EXO Fanfiction: Fantasy AU
Main pairing - Female Reader x Kim Jongdae/Chen
A mysterious group move into your apartment building and you find yourself drawn to them, one in particular… but is it safe? Who are they really?

< Previous | Next >

He stood at the side of the roof top, staring at the city sprawling below him. He sighed, and let his frustration brim over. In the sky, the clouds of his mood began to boil on the horizon.

He thought this trip was meant to be liberating, but why did he feel more trapped?

He grit his teeth, trying not to let out a yell. Closing his eyes with a shaky breath, he felt a bolt of lightening rip out in the sky. He sighed, unclenching his fists, but just as he was about to turn to leave, a giggle pierced its way into his ears. He froze.

Keep reading

For things are what they are, earth and sky, cloud, furrows, undergrowth, stars; it is things alone which transfigure themselves, in no way are they symbols; they are the world we breathe… 

— Philippe Jaccottet, Landscapes for Absent Figures

We must learn from things; we have everything to learn from them. How to let things make themselves known by themselves, before any translation… 

— Hélène Cixous, Coming to Writing and Other Essays

Inconspicuously compliant is the thing: the jug and the bench, the footbridge and the plow. But tree and pond, too, brook and hill, are things, each in its own way. Things, each thinging from time to time in its own way, are heron and roe, deer, horse and bull. Things, each thinging and each staying in its own way, are mirror and clasp, book and picture, crown and cross.

— Martin Heidegger, “The Thing” 

anonymous asked:

Companions react to catching a sad looking SoSu listening to the "Hi Honey" holotape and just kinda running their fingers over their wedding ring that they still wear...

Here we go! See? I promise this blog didn’t transform into a Deacon shrine heheh >.> Here’s some nice hurt/comfort for all of you out there! And by the by, my summer just started, so hopefully this will mean an increase in companion reactions yes? :3 We’ll just have to see! Also, these ended up being kinda romance/pre-romance by accident, so, y’know. It is what it is :)

EDIT: Fixed it :3

Deacon: “Hi Honey…” The room was dark. Sole sat hunched over, legs drawn up and their head cradled in the corner of the wall. Their Pip Boy lay flat across pressed-in knees, gently illuminating the curves of their face.

“Hi Honey…” It said for the third time that night. Subdued gasps shook free some tears still stubbornly clinging to their chin; they made soft plips on the glass screen where they fell.

Deacon had been reading the next room over, contenting himself with a volume of Proust. His attuned ears pricked to attention at Sole’s faint cries. He frowned and clasped the book close before leaving the novel alongside his long forgotten sunglasses. The only things visible in Sole’s shadow-drenched bedroom were the softly glowing hills of Sole’s cheeks.

“Hi Honey…”

He didn’t say a word. He just walked over and sat down behind them, letting his legs extend against the walls as his thighs rested against Sole’s hips. Reaching around their closed off shoulders, he clicked off the Pip Boy. “That’s enough for tonight boss.” He whispered gently against their ear. Sole let themselves sob a little less softly and turned their face into Deacon’s neck. The man lovingly carded his calloused fingers through their hair and pressed a kiss to their temple.

The coolness of Deacon’s lips on their face smoothed over Sole’s grief, allowing Sole to melt further into his supporting frame. Soon, Sole’s softly snoring breath caressed Deacon’s clavicles. Giving one more kiss to their forehead, Deacon carefully lifted Sole up and set them under the billowing sheets of their bed. He slid in after them and securely took Sole in his arms. He hoped it was enough to ward off their pain, at least for one night.

Preston: Panic. Everything between their ears was panic. Sole crushed a hand to their hyperventilating chest. Raiders, one of them, Sole thought they were all dead, but one almost sliced Sole’s neck open. They left a thin red line across the sweep of their throat before Preston put a bullet in the raider. Sole staggered to the nearest wall, leaning a forearm against the brick structure. Frantically they fumbled around their wrist and flicked on their PipBoy and

“Hi Honey…”

Yes. Yes. Their spouse. Yes, and their baby. Everything was fine. Everything was fine and they were back in their perfect home with their perfect spouse and perfect baby and please oh please take me back! Take me back! Let me not be here! Please God!

Suddenly a pair of rifle-roughened hands gripped Sole’s arms. “Sole. Sole Look at me. Hey now, don’t cry. Everything’s fine. Just look at me and take deep breaths.” His hold on Sole was warm on their skin, drawing them safely back to reality. Sole’s gaze finally focused in on Preston’s comforting brown eyes. His attention felt like a familiar plush blanket, the kind that offered security on your stormy nights. His thumb lovingly caressed Sole’s wet cheek. “There we go. You look much better without tears on your face.” He told them gently.

Sole let out a strangled sigh and latched their arms around Preston. “Hold me please.” They begged quietly. The minuteman locked his arms protectively around his partner.

“Don’t worry babe. I’ve gotcha, always will.” And he sealed his oath with a kiss to the crown of their hair.

Cait: “Hi honey…”

“If I hear ya hit the replay button on that thing one more damn time, I’m going to lose my shite. Give it here, yeah?” Fight-worn hands easily plucked the PipBoy from around Sole’s wrist. Sole stayed slumped over, watching the ground with deadened eyes. A few dark spots spattered the concrete between their feet, well on their way to drying up by then.

Cait dropped a hand roughly on Sole’s shoulder as she sat beside them. “I can’t imagine how hard this must be on ya. If you ever need to talk, I’m right here ya know.” She patted Sole’s back a couple of times, pausing a few moments to think her next statement over. “I… I know you can’t heal all at once, but maybe take it easy on the wallowing? Believe me, the longer you draw it out, the worse off you’ll be in the end.”

Sole released a long, shaky breath and curled into Cait’s side. The woman stiffened reflexively at first, but relaxed and let her arm slide around Sole’s shoulders, holding them close. A small chuckle huffed through her nose as Cait leaned down to press a kiss to Sole’s hair.

“It’s okay now love. I gotcha.” She shook Sole playfully, and their arms wrapped around her waist. They rested like this, sharing the warmth, until both of them drifted to sleep.

Danse: Sole straddled the railing on the Prydwyn, letting their feet dangle above the Commonwealth. The green glow of their PipBoy mingled with the soft light of the stars to fall against Sole’s face. Sole stared at their wrist, an empty body lifting an empty hand to replay an empty message.

“Hi honey…”

Canine teeth worked at the inside of Sole’s gums with barely restrained grief. They allowed themselves one large breath: audible inhale and audible exhale. Behind them, boots padded across the catwalk with regimented tempo. A pair of orange-jumpsuited legs suddenly rested against Sole’s blue-suited ones.

“Soldier, you’ve been out here for hours now. You need to get some rest for tomorrow.”

The vault-dweller shrugged noncommittally. Danse sighed.

“Fine. At least let me keep you company then.”

Sole made no argument, their spouse’s voice still cooing softly at their infant child. Danse watched them slump against the cold metal bars, and working the inside of his lip, he braced Sole’s back with the warm breadth of his broad hand. He moved it up and down slightly, not entirely sure if it was a comforting movement, but hoping it helped them nonetheless.

Unexpectedly Sole turned into him, awkwardly folding themselves against the soldier’s chest. Danse lifted his arms in surprise, but then reluctantly let them rest lightly around Sole’s waist.

“Thanks Danse.” Sole’s voice was rough from crying. Danse patted them consolingly.

“No problem soldier. At ease… we’re going to be here a while.”

Piper: “Hi Honey…”

“Wuh-huh?” Piper blinked awake, rubbing her eyes and sniffling her sleep-dried nose. “Sole, is that you?” She asked groggily. What time was it? Midnight? Swallowing, Piper swung her legs off of the side of the bed and meandered downstairs into the living room. As her feet hit the landing she saw Sole flinch at the creaking floorboards, their eyes glistening at her. They gripped the PipBoy close to their chest as if they’d been caught stealing.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to wake you.” Sole apologized.

“Sole? Why is your voice all… gravely? Have you been? Oh… oh Blue.” Piper’s face crumpled in realization, and she quickly strode over to Sole. They leaned away from her touch, embarrassed and ashamed. Piper knelt beside them on the floor. “Look at me Sole. C’mon.” Piper coaxed.

Sole’s lips trembled as they turned their face to face Piper, eyes still closed. A few deep breaths later, and they managed to crack their eyes open a little, vision still bleary. Piper pressed her lips together in a thin, sympathetic smile. She used an inked thumb to wipe away Sole’s tears.

“Need a hug?” She asked. Sole’s head rolled to the side, face suddenly more remorseful than before, but then they slung themselves into Piper’s arms, sobbing. “Hey there Blue. I gotcha now.” Piper sighed, turning her face into Sole’s hair. Quietly she rocked them, waiting until they both fell asleep, slumped against the couch.

Nick: Sole played it as quietly as they possibly could.

“Hi Honey…”

They had to bite their hand to keep from sobbing. It hurt, but it would hurt more to forget their spouse, everyday recalling a little less how they sounded, how they said ‘I love you.’ Sloppy sniffles bypassed Sole’s defenses, and their eyes clenched around rebelliously forming tears.

Nick walked in from the other room, his keen synthetic hearing picking up the soft crying. He knelt beside the bed where Sole laid down with their back facing him. He sighed, a leftover artifact of human behavior, and sat down beside Sole’s head. With his encapsulated hand he gently pulls some strands of hair away from the sticky tear-tracks matting them to Sole’s cold cheeks.  

“Hey there kid. Let’s focus on something less heartbreaking, yeah?” With his other hand, Nick clicks the power off on the PipBoy. Sole swallowed some long dried spit and rolled over, their eyes meeting Nick’s in the dark.

“I don’t wanna forget them.” Sole admitted, voice left gargling from the crying. Nick offered them a sympathetic look. Without a word he scooped them up into an embrace. Sole clutched onto the back of Nick’s trench coat with shaking hands and pressed their face into his shoulder. He rubbed their back soothingly.

“It’ll be alright sweetheart. It takes time to heal, and you’ll always have those memories of your spouse. Even if you forget the specifics of their voice or their face, you’ll never forget the times you spent together or the love you felt towards each other.”

Sole nodded into his shoulder and curled in tighter to him. Nick kissed their hair and kept them close, letting them stay in his arms and have somewhere safe to sleep. His yellow eyes softly glowed on Sole’s snoozing face. They seemed more at peace now, and Nick smiled. Good, if anyone deserved peace in his eyes, it was Sole.

X6-88: “Hi Honey…”

“Sir/ma’am? May I assist you?”

“Huh?!” Sole jumped and looked over their shoulder, eyes wide and filled with still spilling tears. They sniffled and wiped their nose quickly, standing up from their spot in the corner in a futile attempt to appear as if they weren’t just crying.

“I… was that your spouse on the PipBoy?” He asked softly. Sole swallowed back a second wave of emotion.

“Y-yeah.” They said, voice cracking. X6 paused a moment before taking off his sunglasses. He put a firm hand on their shoulder and said,

“My condolences for your loss. However, do not feel as if you have to grieve in private. I will understand if you need… how do they say it? A shoulder to cry on.”

With trembling lips, Sole gave X6 a watery smile and wrapped their arms around the courser. He inhaled sharply through his nose, not really expecting Sole to take his offer literally. However, he supposed it was the least he could do for someone so crucial to the Institute… or maybe just… for Sole’s sake alone.

MacCready: Sole stared up at the stars with dead eyes, PipBoy laying across their stomach and little rocks digging into the back of their vault-suit. They’d long since run out of tears, but Sole still kept pressing the replay button.

“Hi Honey…”

“Sole,” MacCready appeared above them and kneeled down to forcibly turn off the personal device. He frowned at Sole, but when they gave him a blank gaze, his face softened. He sighed tiredly and sat down beside Sole’s head. Tentatively, he caught the tip of a few strands of Sole’s hair between his calloused fingertips. “It might be healthier to leave that one be for a while. Dwelling on the loss… it makes it harder to heal. Believe me, I know.”

Sole blinked owlishly a few times at the mercenary before sighing. “I know,” they croaked. “I just miss them so much.”

MacCready’s heart broke for Sole. He knew that same pain once upon a time. Hell, sometimes he still felt it.

“Come here.” He said gently, more an offer than a demand. Sole groaned while sitting up, nestling into MacCready’s open arms. He held them tightly, close to the chest. With one hand he massaged their head soothingly, and the other secured Sole’s waist. Time moved unnoticed by them after that, and a warm embrace slipped seamlessly into deep sleep. Neither MacCready nor Sole had bad dreams that night.

Curie: “Hi Honey…”

“No more Sole please. I cannot bear to see you cry anymore.” Curie seemed on the verge of tears herself; Sole just looked up at her with tears still streaming down their face. They hiccupped a couple of times trying to compose themselves, and Curie flung herself around them in a hug. She hushed them, cooing desperately and trying to calm them down.

Eventually Sole sobbed themselves weary, and the last wisps of their energy were exhaled against Curie’s neck. The little scientist shivered and held them closer, her tiny arms attempting to crush Sole to herself with all her might.

“Oh my. Such strong emotions! They are taxing no?” She said shakily, petting Sole’s back with more force than necessary, frantically trying to calm Sole down. Chuckling through the tears, Sole leaned away and grabbed Curie by her elbows.

“It’s okay Curie. This is normal.” They reassured her in a worn voice.

“Oh no! I am doing this wrong, aren’t I?” Curie frowned, eyebrows drawn up. Sole shook their head.

“No Curie, you were doing just fine… In fact, maybe you could hold me some more?”

Curie grins widely at them.

“Of course my love. Anything you would ask of me, it is yours. Here, let me hold you again.” Both Sole and Curie smile at each other. The hug is everything they needed, and they don’t let go for hours yet.

Hancock: “Hi Honey…”

Bootfalls heralded the ghoul’s arrival. Promptly, Hancock shut off the PipBoy.

“No.” He said gently. Sole continued to stare at the wrist-device soullessly, and Hancock fished around in one of his coat’s infinitely deep pockets. He finally pulled out a canister of Jet, offering it down to Sole. They looked at it, contemplated, and then slowly pushed the drug away. Hancock shrugged before joining Sole criss-cross applesauce on the floor.

Neither said anything for a while, the master bedroom of the mayoral residence resounding with a deadening silence. It was enough to drive someone insane, and Hancock tossed around the idea of taking a hit himself. Looking at Sole, he decided against it. Instead, he scooped them up by the knees and pulled them into his lap.

Sole sighed and nested their face in the crook of the mayor’s neck. Hancock played with strand of Sole’s hair, feeling the softness between his gnarled fingers before letting it fall gently back into place. The survivor found it comforting and nestled deeper into Hancock.

“Thanks.” They said.

“Don’t mention it. You’d do the same for me.”

And even if that wasn’t true, Hancock would do this for them anyway.

Dogmeat: Dogmeat whimpered at the fourth “Hi Honey…” He circled around his master, stopping to nuzzle their side. Sole hiccupped and looked down at Dogmeat with bleary vision. They sobbed a little more intensely, reaching out for comfort, and Dogmeat quickly huddled up to Sole and lets them wrap their arms around his warm fur. Sole cried until they fall asleep on Dogmeat, and the hound kept vigil over his master until they finish resting.

Strong: “Hi Honey…”

“Why human play again? It only make human weak.” Strong frowned down at Sole who startled at the sound of his voice.

“Crap.” They hiss. “I thought I was being quiet.”

“What? Why human leaking from eyes? Strong never leak from eyes! Is this weak human thing?” The mutant asked gruffly. Sole clicked off the PipBoy, shaking their head. They bite their bottom lip before looking up at Strong.

“Yeah, it’s a human thing. I’ll finish up soon.” They reassure him. Strong glares confusedly at Sole.

“Is liquid… Milk of human kindness?”

Sole chuckles breathlessly.

“Not really, but that’s your closest estimate so far. But yeah, it’s… sort of related. When you… when you’ve shared milk of human kindness with someone, and they leave you… then you uh… humans leak from their eyes. Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Strong balks. “Leave? Why other human leave? It make other human weak! That not helping brother! That bad!” The mutant scrunches up his nose. Sole sighs at him.

“Sometimes… Sometimes it’s not the other human’s fault. Sometimes other things, things they can’t control, take the person away.”

Strong frowns again, looking sideways at Sole. He huffs.

“Strong think he understand. Maybe will talk about it later.”

Sole smiles, genuinely this time. “Sure thing Strong. Anytime.”

Codsworth: “Hi honey…”

Sole sniffled, looking up desperately at the stars. They licked their lips free of tears and closed their eyes. The grief was suffocating. 

“I miss them too. I can’t imagine how hard this must be.” Sole felt Codsworth delicately lay his metal claw on their shoulder. Despite the cold metal, the gesture was comforting, and Sole leaned their cheek into the robot’s hand.

“It’s hard without them, y’know… Thanks for being here Codsworth. It helps to have someone who understands.” Sole said.

Codworth would’ve smiled gently if he could. Instead he made a softly audible sighing sound. 

“I’ll always be here sir/mum. Have been for 200 years, and will gladly be so for 200 more if you desire… You’ve become such a positive force in the Commonwealth. Nate/Nora would’ve been proud. You do their memory honor.”

Sole smiled up at Codsworth. He titled one eye-stalk empathetically, giving their shoulder a comforting squeeze. If there was anyone Sole could count on in this crazy world, it was Codsworth, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Tampon

Dean leaned against his locker and ignored Victor and Benny as they talked about Alex Smith’s awesome Hail Mary in the game against the Broncos the previous night.  Any other time he’d be happy to join in and talk smack about Peyton Manning (even though he secretly liked the guy), but right now was that magical time between third and fourth periods.  Those magical twenty-three seconds that he got to watch Castiel Novak round the corner from the math hallway and make her way down the main hallway to her history class (not that he was a stalker and knew her whole schedule or anything).  Usually she was surrounded by three or four friends.  Rarely, she was by herself, but those were the best times because there was no one around to obscure his view of her shapely legs in the short, pleated skirt that was a part of their school’s female uniform.

And here she was, right on time.  She was walking with only her friend, Hannah, so he had a pretty good view of her as she clasped her books against her chest, not really hiding the fairly sizable mounds under her argyle sweater vest.  She laughed at something Hannah said, and then glanced in his direction.  She looked away again quickly and the two girls giggled as they walked past.

Dean sighed and dropped his head back on his locker.

“Pathetic,” Victor commented.

“Ninety-two,” Benny added.

Ever since they had figured out that he went silent right around this time to watch Castiel Novak parade past in all her perfection, they’d been counting the days that he’d chickened out and not gone to talk to her.  He scowled and ignored them.

Castiel reached for something in her bag, and when she pulled it out, a pen fell onto the floor.  She didn’t seem to notice it had fallen.  His chance had finally arrived!

Dean ran forward, keeping his eyes on Castiel, and bent down to pick up the pen.  It felt a little odd, but he was too focused on making actual verbal contact today.

“Castiel!”

Castiel and Hannah stopped and turned, and so did most everybody in the hallway because he had shouted so loudly.  Castiel looked up at him with those huge, luminous blue eyes.

“Y-yes?”

“You dropped this.”

Castiel looked down at his out stretched hand.

“Oh.”

Her expression changed into something strange.  He looked down to see if he had a wart on his hand or something.  Then he saw that he wasn’t holding a pen.  He was holding a tampon.

“Oh!”

Dean snatched his hand back like he’d been holding a hot iron poker.  Castiel had been reaching for the thing when he dropped it to the floor.

“Oh, shit, sorry.”

He leaned forward to pick it up again and collided heads with Castiel who had also bent forward.

“Ouch!”

“Ow!”

They both stood up, rubbing their heads.

“I-I’m so s-sorry,” Dean stammered.

Castiel smiled and laughed.  “It’s okay.”  She bent down, picked up the tampon, and tucked it safely back in her bag.  “Thank you,” she said, smiling at him.

“You’re welcome.”

Castiel bit her lip shyly and then turned and started walking with Hannah again.  They glanced back over their shoulders to look at him and then giggled wildly as they turned a corner.  Dean stood in the middle of the hallway and barely heard all the snickers around him.  He was pretty certain he had a dopey smile on his face.

“Smooth,” Victor commented.

“I guess we now get to start counting the number of days until the second time you talk to her,” Benny added.

Dean grinned and waved them off.  “Ice is broken now, bitches.  I’m gonna talk to her tomorrow.”

Benny and Victor exchanged looks.

“Thirty.  Minimum,” Victor said.

“Naw, it’s going to take him until next year.”

Dean scowled at them.  “You guys suck.”

“Dean?”

Dean whipped around and took a step back.  There she was.  Up close.  She smelled like honey and fucking fluffy pink clouds.

“Y-yeah?  Um, hi.”

“Hi.  I wanted to, uh, well, uh, again, thank you for picking up my, uh—”

Dean put up a hand.  “Don’t mention it.  Really.”

Castiel smiled and butterflies exploded in his stomach.

“Right.  Well, I was wondering if you, um, well, if you don’t have, like, plans or anything, if you would want to sit with me at lunch today?”

Dean’s brain had skidded to a halt sometime around when she had started smiling at him.  He felt someone behind him nudge him, but he couldn’t speak.

“He’d love to,” Benny saved him.  “Trust me.”

“Great!  Great.  Um.  Yeah.  Okay.  See you after next period then.”

She waved and hurried back down the hall.  Dean watched her go, and then turned to his friends.  He held his arms up in triumph.

“Who da man?!”

Benny and Victor rolled their eyes as they turned and walked away.

“What?”

A stupid drabble originally written on twitter because I hate myself, all inspired by this incredible little AU that the lovely amazing @nervmaid drew!!

We did a lot of gushing about the whole thing. It wasn’t pretty. And thus The Bride of Junkenstein was born!

Keep reading

Lost In The Woods - Part 4

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this part, lol. Hope you enjoy!
Warnings: None really. 
Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~  Part 3

We had been walking the trail for what felt like days, my feet were definitely blistering and I had a whole lot of insect bites that were screaming out to be scratched. After my phone call with Penelope, I’d kept my distance, travelling just behind Spencer, mostly because I didn’t know what to say or if I could trust myself not to cause a scene.

Her words were repeating over and over as I tried to figure out some other scenario, one that was not as hideous and as obvious as she’d implied.

Why would Spencer do that to me? Why would he even THINK that getting us lost was a good idea? I felt a slight migraine coming on, I had so many questions and a tiny pool of burning rage sat at the pit of my stomach.

“Hey, um… (Y/N)… look…” I whipped my head up to see Spencer standing at an opening in the trees, I blew out a frustrated breath and jogged over.

Finally.

The clearing revealed a set of four wooden cabins; mine and Spencer’s, Derek and Garcia’s, Hotch and JJ’s and Rossi had one all to himself. Lucky fucker. They were modest in size and each porch was decorated in strings of glittering fairy lights. It looked magical. A glowing campfire burned brightly, I could see the rest of the team sitting around on various logs and stools, a pot of what I could only assume was soup bubbled away as it cooked on the fire.
I let out a loud squeal and took off towards them, alerting them of our presence.

“About time guys!” Derek grinned, helping me take the lead heavy bags off of my back before pulling me into a quick hug.

“Took a detour huh?” Dave raised an eyebrow and Spencer avoided his gaze.

“Something like that” he mumbled, grabbing my bag and throwing it over his other shoulder to take into our cabin.

“You guys must be starving, here you go (Y/N)” JJ smiled and handed me a bowl of the chicken stew she had started to dish up.

“I really am, thank you so much” I plopped myself down next to Penelope and we both tucked in.

No words could describe how happy I was, to be out of that wretched forest and to finally be with my friends. My family. We spent the entire evening sat together around the campfire, roasting marshmallows and sharing stories, drinking wine and laughing together.

But it was still there.

That niggling thought in the back of my head. The tiny flame of anger inside.

It obviously wasn’t going away, I needed to ask him straight up. I figured I’d wait until we were all headed to bed, it would be only us two in our cabin and it was to better to have some privacy… who knows how this would go.

I excused myself to the bathroom, as I was about to close the door behind me somebody pushed in and grabbed my wrist. A tiny scream escaped my throat and I scrambled to turn on the light.

“Penelope are you serious?! You gave me a heart attack!” I mumbled in relief, watching her as she made her way further inside.

“(Y/N)! What happened in the woods? I am DYING to know!” she bounced around like a child and I rolled my eyes.

“Nothing happened. But tell me again, what you tried to say on the phone?”

“Oh come on, you can’t fool me, my lovely! You and Spencer spent the night alone in a tent and you expect me to believe nothing happened?” she folded her arms across her chest “You know our boy-genius has a super-duper Eidetic memory… he looked at our map and told us he knew where he was going.”

I looked at her in disbelief. It was true. Spencer had purposely taken us the wrong way so we would spend the night in the tent. My emotions were all over the place, a mixture of anger and excitement. Spencer… the boy I adored had actively tried to get me alone. But he lied to me to do it.

“So spill the beans, sister” Penelope’s shrill voice shattered my thoughts and I sighed.

“We kissed a little… a lot of… things occurred…” I felt my cheeks heat as the embarrassing memories came flooding back.

“I knew it!” she clapped her hands with glee “I knew you guys didn’t conveniently “get lost” in the woods”

We didn’t. He did. On purpose.” I stated matter-of-factly and Penelope’s smile faded away.

“Wait… you genuinely didn’t know that he knew the trail?”

“Correct. And he insisted it was late and we should set up camp for the night.” I mumbled in reply.

“That is so unlike him… it’s so… romantic!” she gushed and I again, felt the anger starting to build.

“Romantic? Yeah, right. If he wanted to get in my pants he could’ve just asked. Instead, I was subjected to fresh fucking hell.” I breathed deeply and proceeded to tell of her the events. Mortifying events one and two.
Penelope tried desperately not to laugh at first but soon sympathised, her only words of advice were to talk to him. Oh, we were going to talk alright.

~

The team headed to bed around midnight, I’d stayed inside after my talk with Penelope, asking her to let them know I was feeling a little unwell. I was sat in the corner of the sofa, reading my book when Spencer walked in. I read silently as he hung his jacket on the back of the door before wandering into the kitchen for a drink. As he returned, I clasped my book shut and placed it on the coffee table, standing and facing the fireplace.

“Why did you do that to me?” My voice was almost a whisper and my hands shook with nerves, contrary to popular belief, I hated confrontation.

“Do what, (Y/N)?” I turned to face him and saw a look of terror in his eyes. He knew.

“Why did you purposely get us lost? Why did you lie to me when you knew where to go all along?” I maintained eye contact, I wanted him to know I was serious.

“I… I just… I don’t know what to say” he stammered out, shifting his gaze to the floor. “I thought I saw an opportunity to spend some time with you. Just us. Are you mad?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking mad Spencer. We had the whole weekend to spend together here but instead I had to face two extreme phobias and have far too much to drink and make a huge ass of myself.” I spat out, a huge part of my brain was telling me to calm down. What he’d done was kind of cute but I just couldn’t keep my attitude in check.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know you hated camping so much and well, I didn’t know that you were scared of those things or that they would happen.”

“Yeah, I guess you don’t know me.”

“That’s kinda the point, I want to know you, (Y/N). I want to know the parts of you I don’t get to see at work, the you that isn’t in the field…”

“Right.” I started to walk towards the bedroom door but turned back, not being able to bite my tongue. “If you wanted to get me into bed so badly, Spencer, you could’ve just… you know, fucking asked.”

“That’s not fair!” he raised his voice and I felt the hair on the back of neck stand on end. “You know it’s not like that. I’m not like that. Maybe you should stop being so scared of just being real with me for five minutes, drop the woman scorned facade and stop denying how you really feel.”

Oh. That hit a nerve.

I changed direction and stormed towards the front door, I’m sure Penelope would let me stay the night. I had to get out of here.

Just as I gripped the handle and opened the door, I felt Spencer lean over from behind me and slam it shut. I span on my heel to face him, the look of anger and desire in his eyes sent chills down my spine as I realised he had me pinned against the door. We both stood there, taking each other in, I bit down on my lip as his eyes searched mine. The overwhelming combination of rage and lust took over every fibre of my being, I grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him towards me and our lips connected in a desperate and hungry kiss.

7

Browne Hours, Widener 3

This manuscript, in the Rare Book Department of the Free Library of Philadelphia, was made sometime between 1460 and 1480 for a wealthy merchant named John Browne, who lived in Stamford, Lincolnshire. It was made in Flanders, and at that time, there were a number of places in Flanders called “ateliers” that would make Books of Hours for individuals all over Europe, especially people living in England. The Browne Hours is a very traditional-looking Book of Hours—in earlier years, most Books of Hours would have belonged to members of the nobility.  But John Browne was a member of a newly arrived successful class of noveau riche or very successful bourgeoisie, who may have long admired the handsome books of the noble class his entire life, and probably sent off for his manuscript to be made when he could finally afford to do so.

The Browne Hours is best-known for its binding, an original, fifteenth-century binding by Anthony de Gavere, a member of a prominent family of Flemish bookbinders active from 1459 to 1505.  His name is recorded in the inscriptions stamped into the borders of the four decorative panels on the front and back covers.  The two clasps that contain miniatures depicting the Virgin and Child with an angel (upper) and St. Veronica holding the Sudarium (lower) are inscribed on the reverse with the names of John and Agnes Browne to further personalize the manuscript for its owners.

A particularly English miniature in this manuscript is that of St. George, one of the patron saints of England.

One of the fun miniatures in this manuscript is of St. Margaret.  It looks as though someone has tried to erase her face. In fact, it’s most likely that many women in possession of this manuscript kissed the face many times, effectively blurring it.  St. Margaret was swallowed by a dragon and escaped alive when the cross she was carrying irritated the dragon’s insides. St. Margaret, for that reason, is the patron saints of women in childbirth.

Thomas Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury, was killed by four knights while he prayed at the altar in Canterbury Cathedral on December 29, 1170, supposedly on the king’s orders. For a simple explanation of the situation, he had been arguing with the king, Henry II, over the powers of church and state. Becket was quickly canonized by Pope Alexander III in 1173 and his remains were removed to a phenomenally ornate tomb at Canterbury Cathedral on July 7, 1220. Two feast days were observed in England for St. Thomas Becket: December 29, the date of his death; and July 7, the date of the translation of his remains. The tomb of St. Thomas Becket was visited by pilgrims from all over Europe, and it was the destination for the pilgrims in Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, which was written in English at the end of the fourteenth century, around 200 years after Becket’s death.

Turning to the suffrages of our book Widener 3, or the Browne Hours, we have a full-page miniature of St. Thomas Becket. By royal injunction of November 1538, King Henry VIII of England decreed that images of St. Thomas were to be destroyed. As can be seen in this photograph of the Free Library’s book, the owners at the time couldn’t quite bring themselves to destroy the Becket image. However, they did mark out the text on the opposite page with a graphite pencil. Interestingly, it turns out the Browne family, who lived in Stamford, Lincolnshire, attended the All Saints Church in Market Street, and they were all buried in the St. Thomas of Canterbury chapel there—so the family had a strong feeling toward St. Thomas in particular.  King Henry VIII also wished for the feast days of St. Thomas to be scratched out in the calendars of all books, and both feast days are intact in the calendar for the Browne Hours.

But Henry VIII also decreed that images of the Pope and his trappings should also be scratched out of books.  As can be seen in this image of the Mass of St. Gregory, the triple crown or papal tiara of the Pope has been scratched out, showing that the book’s owners in 1538 did comply with this order.  This miniature is also interesting because it depicts the original owners of the book, John Browne and his wife Agnes, painted into the picture. Browne also had his merchant’s trademark—a heart-shaped base with a small “B” supporting a cross-staff with two chevrons—included in the border decoration to the left of his portrait.

Some images can be seen here for the book in high resolution: http://libwww.freelibrary.org/medievalman/detail.cfm?itemID=mcaw030350

Yes, Professor

PART TWO HERE!

Pairing: Professor!Dean x Reader

Summary: AU where Dean is a professor of English at the university that the reader attends.

Word count: 2008

Warnings: Sexual tension (?), use of sir (although that’s because he’s her teacher) and I think that’s it?

A/N: Just to let you know, I absolutely adore the characters of Supernatural and any unflattering portrayals of them in this fic are just works of fiction! The story couldn’t carry on without any bad guys ;) but let me know what you think! Whether this becomes a series or not pretty much rides on the feedback from you guys :)

@abaddonwithyall @but-deans-back-tho @ouijawinchester @yoursupernaturalsammygirl @mrswhozeewhatsis

Keep reading

nezumi-vc-103221  asked:

"You were moaning my name in your sleep last night. Would you like to talk about it—? I've also heard some other interesting words rolling off your pretty lips. Is there something you'd like to tell me?" he blinks innocently, his smile e v e r y t h i n g BUT innocent.

                      ❛   A-ah, was I?” 

          his fingers tighten around the edge of the INNOCENT book clasped between them, bending the poor pages so dog-eared and loved even more so than they already were while scarlet eyes now compete for the brightest shade on his face as his pale skin darkens, blush bruising across his cheeks. 

                      ❛   Maybe you were the one dreaming, Nezumi, I can’t be expected to remember that. After all, the b-brain is a very complex organism and it’s been suggested that our neuro-chemicals that are secreted when we sleep are different than the ones that function during the day and do not have the property to consolidate memory                   !

          ( oh, but does he REMEMBER the dream ; storm-wild eyes that seek to drown him within their consuming gaze, lengths of inky hair twirled around his fingers and ANCHORED there like he belonged tied with them, the budding awareness of a boy now exposed to all manners of desire: both of freedom .   .    . & of need )

anonymous asked:

Qrow attempting to flirt with Summer

He tries. Oh my god, does he try. It just whooshes right over her head every time and he’s like. c’: Yeah, okay.
Also, I have now decided to make this a fic prompt.

The punch to his arm only lead him to snicker more as Qrow and Summer returned from the library, a couple of books clasped in his hand, and he simply lifted the arm she’d punched to ruffle her hair.

“I am not that short!” she protested with a huff, slapping his hand away and running a hand through the hair he’d just mussed up without much care on her part.

“Sure, sure, kid, that’s why you needed me to come all the way down to the library to reach the books for you,” he remarked smugly, reaching for the doorknob to their dorm room. She hit him again, and though this time it was hard enough to make him wince, he just kept laughing.

“Stop calling me kid, and it’s not like you could reach either!” she countered, “You had to lift me up onto your shoul—”

Qrow and Summer both froze halfway through the doorway, Summer’s eyes widening comically at what was going on inside—Taiyang on his back on one of the beds, Raven straddling his hips and kissing him a little overzealously. Before Qrow could say anything, Summer let out a small squeak and grabbed him by his shirt, tugging him back out into the hallway and closing the door.

They were on my bed,” Summer said in the smallest, most scandalized voice, and as Qrow looked at the vaguely traumatized look on her face, he barely stifled another fit of laughter. It was, as a side note, exactly the sort of expression he commonly felt an urge to kiss off of her face.

Meeting his eyes, he knew she could see the barely contained laughter on his lips, and he saw something crack in her expression; the corners of her lips twitched, and then—

Summer burst into a fit of giggles, the kind that were instantly contagious even when he wasn’t already fighting off his own laughter, and within moments his hand had found its way to her shoulder as they both struggled to keep from doubling over with laughter. “Oh my god,” she got out through her giggles, head thrown back, “I wish they wouldn’t—” Her own laughter interrupted her speech, “—commandeer our dorm like that, where are we—” More laughter, “—supposed to go now?”

Still chuckling, Qrow’s eyes took in her face with building affection, and for maybe the fifth time this conversation, he found himself wanting to kiss her. Hey, at least it would give them something to do.

“Well, you know,” he remarked, his tone smooth and dripping with charm, or so he hoped, as he waggled his eyebrows at her, “We could find find our own place to get up to similar activities.”

She didn’t miss a beat before snorting, letting out another small string of giggles. “Come on, birdbrain—” she reached to slip one of the two books out of his hands, rolling her eyes and walking past him. “—let’s find somewhere to read.”

He stared after her as she continued walking, a faint, longing smile on his face. It really had gone completely over head that he was serious, hadn’t it? It never even occurred to her that her partner might honestly want to kiss her. He found her complete lack of perception both hopeless and endearing, and, shit, how was it that it made him love her even more?

With a mournful chuckle, he jogged after her to catch up, his arms wrapping around her shoulders to plant an exaggerated kiss on her cheek. With a roll of her eyes, she reached up to pat the side of his face, wearing the expression of someone simply humoring another’s silly antics.

One day she’d get that he meant these things as more than jokes or friendly gestures, and he didn’t want to force her. The way Qrow saw it, he had plenty of time.

; proud of me

The fools that had left behind their magic in New York had practically paved a path for the Evil Queen to Storybrooke. After disposing of the pesky guardian that had greeted her reappearance, she had made quick work of the remnants of her counterpart’s meddling and whisked herself off to that mysterious little town in Maine. Oh, what a wonderful place to be; rich in magic and lacking in awareness, the sleepy patrons of such a modern village would be the perfect targets for her new reign of terror.

She arrived just past midnight, according to the looming clock tower at Storybrooke’s center, and quickly arranged her first plan of action. Everyone was bound to be asleep, except for the late night stragglers at the tavern a street down. That meant she would need to move off the main roads and into the residences, where making a few quick stops in and out would be both deliciously easy and most unwelcome. But where to start with so many people to see? There were the insufferables, of course– Snow, her wretched husband, their daughter…or Whale and Blue, who had earned retribution in all their own ways. Or she could stop into the diner, or the library, or the docks–

–no. She had the perfect destination.

With a wave of her hand she transported herself out to the silent street of Mifflin, then further into the largest, most obscene house on the street. Inside, she traced her path to the only lit room and paused at its doorway, observing the sight inside with an anxious hitch of breath.

How long had it been since she had seen clearly? When was the last time she had stopped to understand who had transformed her, who had twisted her, who had pounded her so irreversibly in the perfect, clay statuette that she was frozen like stone into this life? Not recently enough, she assumed, for the perpetrator of crimes against her youth was lying unbothered in bed with a book clasped in her hands. The Queen had waited too long for a moment like this to allow such a villain to go undisturbed.

So she spoke up, her words the jagged edges of a mirror she had once broke.

“Hello, Mother.”

@sxmethingbreaking

After Class

Pairing: Professor!Bucky x Reader

Summary: AU where Bucky is a professor of English at the university that the reader attends.

Word count: 2000+

Warnings: Sexual tension and contextual use of Sir.

This is a converted version of my Supernatural series: Yes Professor.”

Tagging: @vigorousxangry @younonothingrosie @castiels-forbidden-angel (let me know if you want to be tagged!)

Keep reading

Day 1

[AO3]

For Day 2 of The Power Of Mabel Week–Mabel’s scrapbook! Of course, I chose to focus on the page that caused me the most pain–the macaroni interpretation of Mabel’s emotions.


Stan Pines let out a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The Shack was closed and the kids were settled, and he’d made dinner—a real dinner, not grazing off canned goods like he usually did. Everything was fine. He could do this. Sure, it had been … a little harder than he’d expected, seeing the two of them. But he was fine.

Stan heard a clattering noise in the kitchen and wandered over to investigate. If it was those gnomes again, someone was going to have a very bad night. He’d thought that he’d sent enough of them flying with a well-aimed whack of the broom that they’d finally gotten the hint, but the little devils were persistent.

He paused in the doorway. No. Not gnomes. It was the girl—Mabel—standing on the table and rummaging through all his cabinets.

He crossed his arms and cleared his throat noisily. She spun around. “Grunkle Stan! Where do you keep your pasta?”

Stan grunted. “You’re hungry again? I thought I just fed you kids.”

Mabel was shaking her head, her hands waving in front of her. “No no no no no. Grunkle Stan, this pasta isn’t for eating. It’s for art!”

Keep reading