dinghies on dock

Maryland Gothic
  • Your house was built in 1920. It has been marked historic. It will now stand here untouched until the end of time. The bridge has been marked historic. It was built in 1930. No one is allowed to drive on it. Your neighbor’s fence has been marked historic. He built it three years ago. You go to church. The church falls down. It was built in 2005. No one will clear the rubble to save you. It has been marked historic. 
  • You get in your dinghy. You motor to town. You tie up your dinghy at the docks. You buy your government mandated industrial carton of Old Bay and Old Bay seasoned UTZ chips at the Royal Farms. You can’t remember the taste of water. You don’t remember sunlight. There is only Old Bay. 
  • You are on a mountain. The fog is too thick to see the road in front of you. You wait for it to clear. You drive until you reach a town below sea level. The fog is still here. It has followed you. 
  • Your friend from out of state asks if you want to go swimming in the Bay. You say no. You’ll be too busy contacting their next of kin.  
  • You are driving. The DC NPR station signal is growing weaker. You are not yet in range of the Baltimore NPR station. The signal is growing fainter. Fainter. Fainter. You flip between the static of both stations. Nothing. You are trapped. You pass a road sign that reads: New Market. Your flesh melts from your bones as Rush Limbaugh comes in loud and clear. 
  • You sailed your preposterously large yacht into Ego Alley. All eyes are upon you. You approach the dead end docks. The tourists look on in confusion. The dockside bar patrons begin to take bets. It is time to turn around and motor your way out. There is no space left. You cannot turn. You are stuck. The harbor patrol calls the Tugboat Of Shame. In the end, your body is strung up with the others. 
  • You are in Severna park. A woman approaches you. In one hand she holds a field hockey stick. In her other hand, a lacrosse stick. You must chose. You do not know how to play lacrosse. You do not know how to play field hockey. With a heavy heart, you say, “I don’t play sports.” The woman smiles.  She brandishes the lacrosse stick. You close your eyes. You feel your nose break. You see your own blood staining your Sperrys. You do not resist. It is your own fault for entering Severna Park without the proper training. 
  • The stink bugs are here. The stink bugs are here. The stink bugs are here. Ț̠̠̻̤́̍̅͊̑ͧ̊h̍̏͊ͤe̻ͬ͋̽ͤ ͖̦̼̣̰̝͙s̮̬̦̜͌ͭ̍͋͒̔ť̫̲̞͖̈́̅ȉ͉̓͌̈͌n̤̩̭̲ͣ̔ͧ̿k̲̝͓̠͓̥̙ͥͤ ̣̺̤̻ͩ̊̅̍̄ͯb̠̈́́͊̈́͗u̜̭̔͑̚g̘͎̼̪̳͌̍̅ͥ̋ͅsͨ́ ̒͛͌̂ͫ̾ă̬̣̹̲̠̠̘̋̇͊̋r͈͈͓͆͊ͯͧ̎ͯ̈́ě̯̒̓ͩͥ̽ͥ ̠ͭͦ̉h̬̘͓̉͆̋ͤ̚ë̻̟͉̊r̤͙̱̠̝̮͇ͬ́̋̿̄e͕̯̯͔͈.ͫͩ
(w)reckless

pairing: theodore nott x lavender brown

setting: post-war, canon-divergent au

word count: 1,219

written for: @paansyparkinson (i hope your exam went well, bb)


Azkaban is more than a prison.

Theo listens—watches, withers, waits—as the hastily reformed Wizenmagot sentences him to twenty-three months of incarceration with no opportunity for parole; and all he can suddenly think about is how the Malfoys are under house arrest, strolling through pleasantly fragrant rose gardens and drinking hundred year-old bottles of claret in their elegantly appointed drawing rooms and just—just biding their time, counting their gold and feigning their remorse and clawing their way back from the dead like the royal fucking parasites they’ve always been.

Theo, though—Theo is in chains.

He doesn’t speak as he’s led out of the courtroom. There’s nothing to say, not really. His parents are dead. Zabini had fucked off to France with his slinking, deadly snake of a mother. Theo had never had a lot of friends—had never particularly seen the point of making any—but there is, he imagines now, something uniquely terrible about being completely alone for this, the war-drum solemn moment his life is inextricably altered.

Ruined.

The tattoo they ink onto the inside of his left wrist—prisoner number 700, exactly—hurts less than he expects it to. He can almost feel the power of the runes seeping into skin, mucking about with the chemistry of his blood and his magic and his sense of self. Who he’s been, who he is, who he will be. It’s cruel, he decides. A punishment fit for a crime he’s still not entirely sure he’d even properly committed.

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anonymous asked:

In TMUTH Jon talks about his fear of drowning stemming from a sailboating incident when he was a kid. Oliver pulled him out but that incident must have been at least as traumatic for him as Jon. Maybe way more. Can you give us the story from Oliver's perspective? Thank you for your wonderful words and stories!

“You’re going to single-hand it in this air?” Oliver said over the whipping of rigging in the wind.

Jonny shrugged, as Oliver helped him walk the dinghy down the floating dock on its dolly. “It’s supposed to lay down in the next couple hours. And besides,” he said, casting Oliver an irritable look, “you’re going to be staring over my shoulder, aren’t you?”

There had been a time, not even that long ago, when Jonny thought hanging out with Dad was the height of cool. He used to practically bounce up and down on his heels, saying, “We could take the boat out.” That had definitely happened. Oliver remembered it.

When it stopped happening, people told him thirteen was a difficult age. Apparently so was fourteen.

Fifteen wasn’t looking good either.

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Ships & Boats Word List

abeam aft aground aircraft carrier aloft amphibious vehicle anchor astern bail ballast barge barque bathyscaphe battlecruiser battleship beam bearing bilge boat boater boating boat lift boatswain boom bow bowsprit bulkhead buoy    cabin cruiser canoe capsize caravel cargo ship carrier cast off catamarin clipper cockpit container ship convoy crew crow’s nest cruise cruiser cruise ship current cutter Davy Jones’ locker deck deackhands destroyer dinghy displacement dock docking dory draft dreadnought drift drydock dugout    engine engine room escort ship fathom ferry figurehead fireboat fishing boat flat-bottom boat flotilla foremast foresail freighter frigate funnel furl    galleon galley gangway gondola gunboat gunwale halyard headsail helm helmsman hoist hoovercraft houseboat hull hydrofoil hydroplane ice  breaker inboard motor jet boat jib junk kayak keel keelboat ketch knot landing craft lanyard larboard launch league leeward lifeboat lifeline limey lines listing log mainmast marine mariner maritime mast mizzen mizzenmast mooring motorboat motor launch narrowboat nautical nautical mile naval navigate navy nun oar ocean going ocean liner offshore oil tanker onboard outboard motor outrigger canoe overboard paddle passage passenger pedal poat pennant personal flotation device PFD pirate police boat port porthole powerboat propeller PT boat punt raft rigging riverboat rocket boat rope row rowboat rudder runabout sail sailboat sailor schooner scull seafarer seasick ship shrimp boat ski boat skipjack sloop speedboat spinnaker starboard steamboat steamship stern stow submarine submersible swift boat tack tanker tender tide tiller topsail towboat transom trawler tug tugboat u-boat umiak undocking vessel voyage wake warship water-borne watercraft waterline water taxi whaler wheel wheelhouse winch windjammer windward yacht yawl  

Today, in place of our usual Overview, we are honored to feature the work of acclaimed aerial photographer, Alex MacLean. Piloting his own plane, Mr. MacLean captures breathtaking images like “Dinghies Clustered Around Dock” (Duxbury, Massachusetts, 1993) seen here. If you are an aerial photographer and are interested in having your work exhibited on our feed, send us a note and some sample images to dailyoverview@gmail.com.