grassy knolls


“So m’lady,” the Captain winked, “how’s about I take you back to my ship? She’s a real beaut’, but not as pretty as you. Or if you like, there’s a grassy knoll along the way. There’s a green gown with yer name on it.”

His breath tickling her ear was nothing short of thrilling. Even if she did not understand why he’d have gowns on a knoll. Maybe there was some sort of secret gown market there.

“Oh my,” Lady Daria giggled, “that sounds awful tempti-”

Before she could finish her sentence, the Captain picked her up and hoisted her over his shoulders. Goodness, this was so unbecoming!

“What are you doing?” the Lady yelped in surprise.

“Taking you back to my ship, of course!” he replied, “I don’t say a fine lady like you would want yer diddeys out here!” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Do ladies not take ‘em out during a prigging?” he questioned, “I’d say my tallywag would get lost in all them skirts m’lady!”

It finally occurred to her what the pirate was implying. How dare he think she was some kind of common harlot!

“Put me down!” Lady Daria protested, “right now! You-you ruffian!”

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@penelope-and-wonders, maybe not like the books, after all 😅…

Every time I see someone describe Roy as a “womanizer” (especially to suggest he wouldn’t be loyal to Riza) I want to find the nearest grassy knoll and roll down it forever just to put as much distance between myself and that concept as possible

The boy goddamn grew up with an adoptive mom who used her “girls” to run a covert information-gathering network because they were rarely suspected as more than curious, flirtatious, naive young ladies–it was a front, a ruse, a clever tactic using young sexuality to disguise illegal information reconnaissance. Roy encodes his alchemy notes as “date journals” which no one besides Ed and a close few seem to know because that’s the point of encoding things. To keep them hidden. Roy doesn’t actually date any of these girls; he puts on a front, makes himself seem like all he cares about is chasing tail to disguise his truer, subversive goals in the military. He intentionally pisses off his less important underlings with loud flirty phone calls (spoiler alert: to Riza in disguise) in order to further this mask so he is viewed as less of an ambitious, focused threat. Roy never actually dates anyone ever in the entire series. Not in flashbacks, not currently, even when Havoc makes it clear it’s an option. He only ever flirts with “Elizabeth” which, spoiler alert, was another front he used to keep up conversation with Riza while they hunted out Gluttony. He flirts with and gives flowers to Olivier as a means of revealing the secret identity of an all-powerful homunculus who can observe everything from the shadows. It’s all calculated. It’s all intentional. It’s all a huge freaking subterfuge.

TL:DR The only times Roy Mustang has EVER exhibited womanizing behavior was to trick other people into ignoring his highly illegal, societally subversive, ambitiously driven attempts to overturn the entire structure of Amestris and if you think it’s a genuine part of his character than boy oh boy he’s tricked you too.


The weapons Eric and Dylan carried and the clothing they wore during the massacre.

Eric’s clothing: Black fatigue-style pants, a white T-shirt inscribed with the words Natural Selection on the front, black baseball cap with the letters “KMFDM” on it (worn backwards), and a black trenchcoat (duster). Wore a black fingerless glove on his right hand and black combat boots.

Eric’s weapons: 10-shot Hi-Point model 995 carbine rifle on a strap (under coat), Savage-Springfield 67H 12-gauge pump shotgun he called ‘Arlene’ (named after a Doom character - initially in one of the duffels carried to the top of the grassy knoll – stock and barrel sawed off, reducing the entire gun to 26 inches).The sawed-off weapons, each around 30 years old, were so short that firing repeatedly from them caused the hands of the gunmen to bleed when fired on the practice range initially. The teens apparently acclimatized to the weapons over the months preceding the shootings. Both shooters also carried several knives. They named their pipe bombs. Four bombs are mentioned on Eric’s website, along with their specs. 'Vengeance’ (pictured at bottom) and 'Atlanta’ were found at the Klebold residence when police searched it.

Eric’s Hi-Point model 995 carbine rifle

Eric’s Sawed-off pump-action Savage-Springfield 67H shotgun

Dylan’s clothing: Black cargo pants, a black T-shirt that said Wrath in red across the front, black baseball cap (worn backwards), and a black trenchcoat (leather duster, really). Also wore a black fingerless glove on his left hand and black combat boots. Had a red medallion on his left boot bearing a sickle and hammer. Black suspenders were found close to his body.

Dylan’s weapons: Intratec TEC-DC9 (9-mm semi-automatic handgun) attached to a strap slung over his shoulder (under coat), Savage 311-D 12-gauge double-barrel shotgun (barrel sawed down to approximately 23 inches, initially half-hidden in Dylan’s cargos).

Dylan’s TEC-DC9 9-mm semi-automatic handgun 

Dylan’s Double-barrel Savage 311-D sawed-off shotgun

They both carried a variety of knives and blades.

Setting Aesthetics for the Types

Based on people I know, stereotypes, and cognitive functions.

ENTP: A comic book store. The International Space Station. Old Faithful in Yellowstone National Park.
INTP: A museum at night. The Space Needle in Seattle. A telescope on an apartment rooftop.
ENTJ: A game of chess in the park. Pike’s Peak. The head of a long dining table at Thanksgiving.
INTJ: Physics and chemistry laboratories. Secret passageways in old buildings. A sealed vault.
ENFP: A poetry slam. Ancient Aztec ruins. A room full of decorative, metal-framed mirrors.
INFP: A window seat in a library. A small countryside chapel with stained glass windows. A canopy bed in a cluttered bedroom.
ENFJ: Making snow angels in a park. A birthday party with lots of balloons. A pay-per-view telescope at the beach.
INFJ: The Notre Dame Cathedral. Cloud watching on a grassy knoll. Watching the roe deer in the Hallerbos forest in Belgium.
ESTP: An arcade. Hang gliding over the Grand Canyon. Labeling arteries in a cadaver lab.
ISTP: On a motorcycle in the city at night. Sheer cliffs with waterfalls. Jigsaw puzzles by the fireplace.
ESTJ: The labyrinth of Versailles. Rehearsing in an empty auditorium. The top of the Statue of Liberty.
ISTJ: A subway station early in the morning. The archives of the Library of Congress. A well-worn path through twisted woods.
ESFP: Snorkeling at a coral reef. Fashion week in New York. A performance of Shakespeare at The Globe Theater.
ISFP: Botanical gardens. A blanket fort in the attic. The Santa Maria Cathedral in Florence, Italy.
ESFJ: A picnic in a park with kites. A bustling marketplace with fresh food and flowers. Feeding lorikeets at an aviary.
ISFJ: A petting zoo with baby goats. A meadow of wildflowers as far as the eye can see. Studying at a familiar coffee shop with a house band.


The Ice Box Murders - On 23 June, 1965, authorities in Houston were asked to check up on 81-year-old Fred Rogers and his 79-year-old wife, Edwina Rogers, at the request of their nephew who had become worried when the elderly couple would not answer their phone. The two patrol men found the house seemingly empty. They began to search each room to see if they could find any clues as to where they could have disappeared to. Before leaving the kitchen, for some reason, they decided to look in the fridge: “We didn’t know it was a body until we got ready to close the refrigerator and we could see the head down in the bottom of the vegetable bin.” The immediate, and only, suspect was their 43-year-old reclusive unemployed son, Charles Rogers, who had lived with his parents; he was nowhere to be found. An investigation revealed that the elderly couple had been murdered on Father’s Day. Edwina had been brutally beaten before being shot in the head, execution style. Fred had been bludgeoned with a claw hammer; his eyes had been gouged out and his genitals removed. The couple were then dismembered and their organs were flushed down the toilet. Charles Rogers was never found or heard from again but his life was documented in the 1992 book, The Man on the Grassy Knoll, in which the author claimed that Rogers was a CIA agent who was involved in the assassination of President JFK. He theorised that his parents had discovered his true identity and responded by killing them and then fleeing to Guatemala.


Anne Marie Hochhalter, 17 in 1999.
Anne Marie was outside eating lunch on the grassy knoll with two friends when the shooting began. At first she thought it was a joke but when she saw students getting shot in the legs, she realized it was for real. She tried to run to the safety of the cafeteria and was shot by Eric Harris once in the back and once in the chest. Paralyzed by a bullet that damaged her spinal cord and diaphragm (it was later found lodged in her liver), she collapsed, unable to move. She told investigators later that while she was playing dead she could hear one of the gunmen shouting orders to the other but couldn’t understand what they were saying. If rescue workers had been as little as two minutes slower in reaching her, she would have died. As such doctors later called her the “miracle girl”. She was later moved to Craig Hospital for spinal cord rehabilitation. She spent four months in the hospital.

Her mother Carla, who’d been diagnosed with depression committed suicide 6 months later, on October 22, 1999. The reports say she went to a pawn shop, bought a gun, loaded it and killed herself on the spot. She was pronounced dead at the hospital. Her father Ted remarried a year later, marrying one of the grief counselors he and Anne met.

Her 16 year old brother Nathan was also a student at Columbine. While the shooting occured, Nathan was trapped in a science room. Anne Marie underwent therapy at Craig Hospital with Patrick Ireland and resumed school Sept. 9 1999, taking one Physics class with him. Her family bought a house with wheelchair ramps and lifts with the help of Colorado Homebuilders Foundation. At age 18, she was attending Columbine part time and helped out in the nurse’s office in addition to taking classes. She wanted to go on to community college once she graduated but had planned to take the summer of 2000 off to “be a teen” since she’d lost that time the previous summer.
- acolumbinesite

Anne Marie Hochhalter made a facebook status on febuary 11 2016, where she wrote;

Dear Sue Klebold, I was injured at Columbine High School in 1999. As you know, your son Dylan, and his classmate, Eric Harris, killed 13 people and then themselves. You are releasing a book called, “A Mother’s Reckoning”, and are appearing tomorrow on the TV program 20/20 to talk about what happened and what your son did. I have only two instances to form an opinion on you and they are as follows:
1. You and your husband wrote me a letter a few months after I was paralyzed saying how sorry you were. It was genuine and personal. The Harris letter, on the other hand, was four sentences long on a folded up piece of paper, and was cold and robotic. To refresh your memory, your letter read like this:
“Dear Anne Marie,
Our prayers have been with you each day as we read about the terrible ordeal you and your family have experienced. We read that you had been transferred to Craig Hospital, and we were so thankful that you had progressed to the point where you could enter a rehabilitation facility. Though we have never met, our lives are forever linked through this tragedy that has brought unspeakable heartbreak to our families and our community. With deepest humility we apologize for the role our son, Dylan, had in causing the suffering you and your family have endured. Your recovery process will be a long and difficult road, and we hope that the support of people all over the world will help you find strength and courage as you meet the many challenges you have yet to face. When we read reports of your progress, we marvel at your resolve. It is still terribly difficult for us to believe that the son we knew could play a role in causing harm to you and others. The reality that he shared in the responsibility for this senseless tragedy is beyond our comprehension. We offer our love, support, and service as you and your family work to gain control over your lives. May God watch over you during your recovery process and beyond. May each day bring you successes, however small, that bring you hope and encouragement.
Sue and Tom Klebold.
2. I was contacted by ABC to comment for the 20/20 special and they told me that any proceeds from your book (aside from publisher’s costs) will go to helping those with mental illness. Six months after Columbine happened, my mother, Carla, committed suicide. She was already suffering from depression so the shootings didn’t directly cause her to do what she did, but it certainly didn’t help. It means a lot to me that you wouldn’t keep those proceeds for yourself, but to help others that suffer from mental illness.
I think it’s appropriate that the program that you are appearing on is named “20/20”. Hindsight is truly 20/20 and I’m sure you have agonized over what you could have done differently. I know, because I do the same thing with trying to think of ways I could have prevented my mother’s death. I have no ill-will towards you. Just as I wouldn’t want to be judged by the sins of my family members, I hold you in that same regard. It’s been a rough road for me, with many medical issues because of my spinal cord injury and intense nerve pain, but I choose not to be bitter towards you. A good friend once told me, “Bitterness is like swallowing a poison pill and expecting the other person to die.” It only harms yourself. I have forgiven you and only wish you the best.
Anne Marie Hochhalter.

spellbound, wet pine,

summer sea, other

we are at the gates

of the gods

blackbirds wing



obsidian halo,

grassy knoll

I come from the

world of

stinging things

ember rain, daylight

cowering out from

anemone’s wings

let me in

leaf-blight, master,

jade wind,

I bend in


rend this veil,

this wilderness

of stone

lose the reeds

of your old love,

gain voice

come to me with

the impossible marks 

of penance 

kneel to earth’s

dark throat with all

I have surrendered

too much, not enough

the birds of day -

like lilies

red reeds bend over

a lake, the face of

light on the waters

gods, what is it

in me

that moves my heart

to kneeling?

you have done nothing

for me

far from forgiveness,

all else, or any light

I see this parting

like death

shadows stretch over

the shrouded heart

the night is veiled

the graves are open-


hungry,             waiting

my hands are weak,

how shall I reach

for anything?

the gates will not open,

sighs succeed sighs

arrows of sin stick where

she once knew me 

death is damp,

black taste of grief

into  obscurity bonded

to light

Soaked for Science

I went to the March for Science this weekend, and since I went armed with @eclecticmuses‘ wonderful FitzSimmons commission for me, I couldn’t resist writing a flufflet about the two of them actually marching. All signs mentioned were ones I saw. (Also, a brief exchange was inspired by one I had with @ifwehadamonkey later that day!) 
Rated G, in a canon-divergent s4 where everyone’s happy, healthy & in reality. ;-)

“Four hours.”

Jemma groaned, droplets flying off the sleeve of her sunflower-patterned raincoat as she whacked him on the shoulder. “Ugh, Fitz –”

“We’ve been standing in the rain for four hours.”

A burst of static crackled over the sound system as speakers changed places on the stage.

“And so has everyone else,” she pointed out, hopping slightly onto her tiptoes to glimpse something at the side of the crowd. Fitz reached out instinctively to hover one hand over her lower back, ready to catch her should she slip on the sopping wet grass.

“I can barely remember what it was like to be dry –”

“Oh, for –”

“I’ve never seen fingers wrinkle because of rain –”

Clapping her hands together, Jemma let out a little noise of excitement and grabbed onto his arm, interrupting his good-natured complaining. “Fitz, look!” He followed where she was pointing, blinking as rain dripped into his eyes. “Not all superheroes wear capes,” she said, reading the sign that she’d spotted within the crowd, “most wear lab coats!”

“Daisy’d agree with that,” he said with a grin. “I don’t think any superheroes wear capes. Too impractical.”

Keep reading

Here, have a Jack- and Jazz-centric almost-reveal Danny Phantom ficlet, focused on Phantom’s capture.

“Dad, no!” Jazz screamed.

Jack Fenton jumped and turned, but the damage was already done; the Fenton Bazooka’s trajectory had altered when she’d startled him, and instead of stopping him from shooting, she’d corrected his aim.

Jazz was out of breath even before the tiny body dropped out of the sky like a stone, but she kept running long after it crashed into the fountain. She stumbled down the grassy knoll to the path, using gravity to keep her feet moving even as the stitch in her side burned. She had to…had to get….

“Jazzy-pants, what’s gotten into you?” Jack asked as she careened past. He reached out to catch her arm, and she couldn’t evade him quickly enough. She sagged forward, but he held her upright. “You’re not carrying a weapon.”

She didn’t need a weapon. She just needed to get to Danny. She tried to break her father’s grip, but he wasn’t about to let her go. He might want his children to be interested in ghost hunting, but he also wanted them to be safe.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or weep at the irony of that.

“Just stay behind me,” he said, pulling her back. “You don’t want to give the ghost any more opportunities to trick you than it already has.”

Than he already has. But it wasn’t the time for that argument. Not now. “Dad—” Her voice cracked as he pulled out the Fenton Ecto-Cuffs. “Dad, you can’t.”

“Nonsense! I just need to slap these babies on that ghost before it recovers enough to fight back.” He brandished the handcuffs and grinned at her.

And then he ignored her protests as he turned to capture his own son, her brother, just because he thought she was misguided in her belief that Phantom was the good guy.

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Photo taken from an aerial view on 20th April 1999 showing the west entrance. On that day, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold fired and shot out the doors of the entrance, wounding teacher Patti Nielson and another student that was walking with her. (You can see the glass a short distance away from the people at the top of the stairs.)

At the base of the stairs near the silver car, Daniel Rohrbough’s body can be seen. He was walking with his friends Lance Kirklin and Sean Graves when he encountered Eric and Dylan shooting down the grassy knoll, and along with them, he was shot and was wounded in the abdomen and left leg. Lance Kirklin tried to catch Daniel as he fell. Moments later, Dylan Klebold walked over and killed Dan with a point-blank shot to the chest, and bled to death on the sidewalk. His body stayed there for two days before paramedics were allowed to move the body.

anonymous asked:

avac!tony has a pet unicorn. Legend has it only a virgin can a tame wild unicorn. So..

The most damsel~

((IronFalcon, StrangeIron, IronAnt, Peony, StarkLord, IronWidow))

Later Jan calls Rhodey and gets Rhodey to beat people up while she can protect Tonys innocence (or vice versa…. or maybe they take turns.)

Tony dont care. Tony just wants to hang out with his unicorn probably in his hot tub and probably eat cheese.

((IronPanther is here too))

Shooting Stars // Kim Taehyung


the prompt: can you write a fluffy scenario with Taehyung just casually hanging out like watching a movie/going to the beach/watching the stars or just hanging out in a bar with a few drinks and nice music date or sth??

words: 503

category: fluffy drabble

author note: this isn’t a scenario this is a blurb but i hope you like it anyway bc i think it’s pretty cute also why is tae so cute i don’t need this rudeness??

- destinee

Originally posted by taehyunglq

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Calum Hood Smut - If You Don't Know

Pairing: Calum and Y/N

Word Count: 6.6k+

Rating: R

Requested: Nope!

Because let’s be real, virgin Calum is underrated and I think we all needed this a little bit.

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My Fellow Reylos - here ye', here ye'

Did you know that on top of bribing Lucasfilm to change their storyline so that Reylo becomes canon, that:

1.) The studio that the moon landing was staged in was owned by a Reylo.
2.) A Reylo was the second shooter on the Grassy Knoll the day President Kennedy was shot.
3.) Fed Chairwoman Janet Yellen is a Reylo is plotting with the illuminati (who are also all Reylos) to establish the New World Order.
4.) The cornfield that Aliens will land in when they invade Earth is maintained by a Reylo.


Aleister| In The Dark |Black

Title; In The Dark

Pairing; Aleister Black/Reader

Words; 5200

Summary; He ate my heart out.

Warning; NSFW. SMUT. AU AF. Heathens!verse. Sex pollen/venom trope. Magic healing dick trope. Thigh riding, oral sex, public sex. Kinda dubcon. Persephone and Hades spin if you drink some wine and squint. morally flexible aleister. porn with the faintest traces of plot. shit editing and proofreading is shit. ye have been warned.

A/N: Repost from the old blog

Originally posted by totaldivasepisodes

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