wall-construction

8

Female Rulers in Russian History

Olga of Kiev (c. 890-969) of the House of Rurik (reign as Regent: 945-964).
Wife of Prince Igor, the son of Rurik, Prince of Novgorod, a founder and first ruler of the Rurik dynasty - the first ruling Russian dynasty. The marriage is fought to be initiated by  Oleg the Prophet,  Prince of Novgorod, Rurik’s relative and founder of Kievan Rus’. After Oleg’s death Igor assumed the rule over Kievan Rus’. Igor and Olga had one known surviving son, Svyatoslav. In 945 Prince Igor went to the tribe of the Drevlians to gather tributes and the Drevlians killed him. Upon his death Princess Olga took the powers in her hands and became regent, since her son was only 3 years old. The Princess took revenge upon her husband’s death: she buried alive matchmakers from Drevlians who came to her to propose that Olga marry their Prince Mal, then she lured their most distinguished men into a bathhouse, locked the doors and set fire to the building, burning them alive. After that she went to the land of Drevlians in order to gather tributes. The Princess asked that each household present her with a dove as a gift. Then she tied burning papers to the legs of the doves and let them fly back to their homes. As a result, the entire town was destroyed by fire.
As a ruler Olga established the system of tribute gathering, which is sometimes considered to be the first legal tax system in Eastern Europe. She ordered the creation of centers of trade and taxation, divided lands into administrative units, which were controlled by the Princess’s representatives and set fixed amounts of tributes, with a detailed schedule for their gathering. Princess Olga is also thought to have been the initiator of the first stone city building in Rus’.
She was first ruler of Rus’ to convert to Christianity and was baptized in Constantinople in Byzantine Empire. Her son Svyatoslav didn’t support his mother’s decision or her efforts to spread Christianity throughout Rus’ and was worried about losing the respect of the army because of Olga’s new faith, yet after her death he would bury his mother according to Christian customs. It would be Olga’s grandson, Vladimir I (also known as Saint Vladimir, Vladimir the Great or Vladimir the Fair Sun), who in 988 made Christianity the official religion of Rus’.
Olga was canonized as one of the first saints of the Russian Orthodox Church and thus is known as Saint Olga.


Sophia of Lithuania (1371-1453) of the House of Rurik (reign as Regent: 1425-1432)
The only daughter of ruler of Grand Duchy of Lithuania, Vytautas the Great, and wife of Vasily I, Grand Prince of Moscow, from the House of Rurik. She possibly met her future husband while he was a guest at her father’s home while still being a heir to his father, renowned Dmitry Donskoy. Sophia married  Vasily in 1391 and had at least 9 children with him : 5 sons and 4 daughters. Their eldest daughter, Anna, was married to John Palaiologos, subsequently Byzantine Emperor. Their 3 sons died of plague and their youngest and last son, Vasily, was born when Sophia was 44, the birth was difficult, she got sick not long before the birth and was literally at death’s door. Throughout her marriage Sophia was a good helper to her husband both in state and economic affairs.  She had a vast amount of lands in her possession and skillfully governed them. During his reign Vasily I continued reunification of the Russian lands, while dealing with the Golden Horde as the Rus’ at that time was under its dominance. Sophia’s marriage to Vasily helped to secure alliance between her husband and Grand Duchy of Lithuania and use it as prevention against severe attacks from the Golden Horde, though the alliance turned out to be fragile, and they waged war against each other at one point.  Sophia tried to act as mediator between her husband and father.
After Vasily’s death in 1425 Sophia became regent for their 10-year-old son Vasily II. Her husband Vasily bequeathed his wife a lot of lands into possession for life, which provided large income for Sophia and made her into even wealthier lady. She also secured the support from her father for Vasily II’s claim to the throne, as it was disputed by his uncle, Yuri of Zvenigorod. Yet in 1430 Vytautas died and from this time the ongoing battle for the throne started between Vasily II and his uncle, where Sophia would be staunchly fighting for the rights of her son. Sophia arranged marriage for her son and during wedding festivities she tore a golden belt from Vasily’s first cousin as this belt used to belong to Dmity Donskoy and Sophia believed only her son had a right to it. When her son at one point lost throne to his uncle she financed and organized public discontent against Yuri’s rule and Vasily II returned his throne; Yuri made a second attempt and managed to gain the throne for the second time, taking Sophia hostage, sending her away from Moscow, but Vasily II managed to take throne back again, Yuri died and Sophia returned. The troubles didn’t end then. When her son was captured by Golden Horde, Sophia raised an enormous sum of money as a ransom; when Vasily II was captured by his first cousin, Yuri’s son, he was blinded and became known as Vasily the Blind yet still managed to get his throne, with his mother helping to mobilize his supporters. In 1451 while her son was away Horde attacked Moscow and Sophia organized defence of the city, successfully thwarting their attack. Highly pious and devoted to Russian Orthodox Church Sophia patronized and sponsored monasteries and churches, including the famous Ascension Convent in Kremlin. She took the veil there not long before her death, leaving her vast lands to her son and her numerous grandsons as well as several religious artefacts.
Sophia’s grandson, Ivan III (also known as Ivan the Great), ended the dominance of Golden Horde over Rus’, gathered Russian lands, significantly expanding the territory under his rule  and carried out effective reforms, laying foundation for the powerful state.


Elena Glinskaya (c.1508-1538) of the House of Rurik (reign as Regent: 1533-1538)
Daughter of  Prince Vasili Glinsky, a noble from the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, and his wife Serbian Princess Anna Jakšić. Her uncle was  powerful  and wealthy Michael Glinsky, who  began an armed rebellion against Sigismund I, Grand Duke of Lithuania. The rebellion failed and Glinsky family retreated to Russia, where Michael served Vasily III of Russia (son of Ivan III the Great). In 1525 Vasily III resolved to divorce his barren wife, Solomoniya Saburova, with whom he was married for 20 years and had no children, and marry Elena Glinskaya. According to the chronicles, he chose Elena “because of the beauty of her face and her young age.” Elena was beautiful, lively, charming and well-educated (she knew German and Polish, spoke and wrote in Latin). Vasily was so smitten with her, that he even broke the ancient Russian male tradition and shaved his beard. Despite strong opposition from the Russian Orthodox Church Saburova was forced to take the veil and it’s said that she cursed the House of Rurik for it. Vasily married Elena and she gave him the long awaited son Ivan in 1530 and then another son Yuri in 1532. Vasily was overjoyed and doted on his wife and sons, yet whilst out hunting he fell ill and died in 1533. On his deathbed Vasily appointed regency counsel for his 3 year old son Ivan IV until he is mature enough to rule. The boyars from the counsel had to report to Elena. Yet quite soon Elena removed all power from the counsel (including her own uncle who was in it) and took power into her own hands.
During her regency she challenged the claims of her brothers-in-law, Yury Ivanovich and Andrey of Staritsa in order to protect her little son’s rights to the throne from his uncles. The struggle ended with their incarceration in 1534 and 1537, respectively (both died in prison). Elena carried out a currency reform that introduced a unified monetary system in the state and some new currency units, one of those being famous kopeyka. In foreign affairs, Elena succeeded in signing an armistice with Duchy of Lithuania on beneficial terms for Russia in 1537 after three years of war with it, while simultaneously effectively neutralizing Sweden. She had a new defensive wall constructed around Moscow, made an attempt to change the system of home rule which anticipated the reforms of Ivan IV. She is noted to have visited several convents. Yet her rule was almost constantly disputed by boyars. Some of the conflicts in government were caused by Elena’s close association with her supporters, a boyar named Ivan Ovchina-Telepnev-Obolensky (rumored to be her lover) and Metropolitan Daniel. Her uncle Michael criticized her and her rule and was put into prison where he died of starvation. In 1538 Elena suddenly died and was hastily buried. It was rumored that she was poisoned by the Shuiskys - boyars, who usurped power after her death. Forensic studies of her remains carried out  in 20th century  tend to support the thesis that Elena was poisoned.
After Elena’s death her son Ivan IV was left alone, with regency being alternated between several feuding boyar families fighting for control. Treated with respect in public, but humiliated and abused by Shuiskys  in private, sometimes not being given food or new clothes, Ivan developed a ruthless and suspicious nature while growing up  with a hatred towards boyar class. At age 13 he called boyars  to a meeting, condemned them for their neglect of him and the nation and threw the head of Shuisky clan to a pack of hungry hunting dogs, who tore him apart. This action is often seen by historians as act of revenge for his mother Elena. 
In 1547 Ivan IV was crowned as first Tsar of All the Russias, establishing the Tsardom of Russia. A complicated and controversial ruler during his reign he transformed Russia from a medieval state into an emerging Empire. In history he is better known as Ivan the Terrible.


Sophia Alekseyevna (1657-1704) of the House of Romanov (reign as Regent: 1682-1689)
Also known as Tsarevna Sophia. Third surviving daughter of Tsar Alexis of the House of Romanov by his first wife, Maria Miloslavskaya. She was the only one of her sisters educated by Simeon Polotsky who also taught her brothers, Tsar Alexis’ heirs Tsarevich Alexei and Tsarevich Feodor. She grew up to be educated, sharp-witted, headstrong and politically savvy. After death of Tsar Alexis his son Feodor III ruled only for  6 years and died of poor health.  Tsar Alexis left behind him two families by his two wives, both of which boasted at least one male heir after the death of Feodor III. By  Miloslavskaya there was another son, Ivan, and  by  Alexis’s second wife,  Nataliya Naryshkina, there was a son Peter. As the clans of Alexis’ two wives were in conflict, Sophia crafted her scheme to ensure power for herself and her family. Promoting the case of her weak brother Ivan as the legitimate heir to the throne, in 1682 Sophia attempted to convince the patriarch and the boyars that their recent decision to crown Peter should be reversed.  Upon the court’s swift and unanimous rejection of the proposal, Sophia reached out to the discouraged military troops, the Streltsy, for their aid and support. The unjust dismissal of Ivan’s rights acted as a catalyst to the already displeased and frustrated troops and drove the Streltsy to violently oppose the “unjust” election of Peter. After several members of the Naryshkin family were murdered, the fighting ceased and Streltsy received their initial demands. Weak and inept Ivan was crowned senior Tsar as Ivan V and Peter, only 10 years old, junior Tsar as Peter I.  Sophia  assumed the role of regent for the youthful Tsars and  had a double throne constructed for the co-Tsars with a hole cut in the back of it. Sophia would sit behind the throne and listen as Tsars conversed with nobles, while feeding them information and telling them how to answer questions. She arranged marriage for Ivan V, hoping to control his heirs and thus remain in power, but the marriage produced only daughters.
During years of her regency Sophia carried out  improvement of tax assessment and collection, made efforts to eradicate government graft and corruption, improve peasant registration laws, tried to reorganize the army, promoted the development of industry and encouraged foreign craftsmen to settle in Russia. She signed all decrees, and her likeness appeared on all Russian coins, she encouraged the growth of publishing houses. Notably intrigued by baroque style architecture, Sophia actively promoted it. The Slavonic-Greek-Latin Academy, the first Russian higher learning institution, was founded under her reign. The most important highlights of her foreign policy  were the Eternal Peace Treaty of 1686 with Poland on beneficial terms for Russia, the 1689 Treaty of Nerchinsk with China (the first treaty China ever signed with a Western power), and the Crimean campaigns against Turkey which were unsuccessful and caused discontent among general population with her rule.
Her half-brother Peter was growing up and in 1689 he turned 17.  Naryshkins expected Sophia to step down now that Peter was old enough to rule himself.  Meanwhile Peter, who didn’t trust his step-sister, fled to a fortified monastery near Moscow. Sophia summoned him, but he refused to go to her. Then she  tried to rally the Streltsy regiments, nobles, and the populace but her pleas for support fell on deaf ears.  Instead, more and more of the army officials abandoned her to serve Peter. Power was slipping through her hands and soon, she had no choice but to renounce the throne. Peter had her arrested along with her supporters, and confined Sophia to Novodevichy Convent. One of her chief supporters and minister for foreign affairs Vasily  Golitsyn (rumored to be her lover) was exiled. Sophia still had her supporters and in 1698, when Peter was out of the country, Streltsy tried to reinstate Sophia to the throne, but failed. Their revolt was harshly suppressed and many of Streltsy were tortured, executed or exiled. Sophia was forced  to take the veil, was  kept in the strictest seclusion with other nuns not allowed to see her except on Easter day. She died in the Novodevichy Convent 6 years later.
Her half-brother Peter became known as Peter the Great, one of the most outstanding rulers in Russian history, who finalized the transformation of Russia into a major Empire and became first Russian Emperor.


Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Tell us about Sleipnir (is that how it's spelled?) the eight legged horse.

OH MAN THIS ONE

One of the most (in)famous of Loki’s shenanigans.

So. Shortly after the construction of Asgard, the gods were going about their business when a stranger arrived at their gates. He offered his services to construct a wall for them around Asgard, one that would never fall. He swore that he would do this in a mere three seasons, which seemed impossible, and as payment for his services he wanted the hand of Freyja, the beautiful, in marriage, as well as the sun and the moon.

The gods went into a huddle at this to discuss things.

“Fuck this guy.” Announced Freyja. “In the metaphorical sense, not the literal. I’m not marrying him.”

“Anyway, yeah, this is a scam.” Odin said. “I know a scam when I see a scam, and this is definitely a scam, and you know what we do to people who try to scam us.”

“COUNTER SCAM!”

“What the fuck you two, Loki, shut the hell up, that isn’t what he…”

“Exactly, thank you Loki. We counter scam them. Here’s the plan.”

*Some time later*

“Fine. Fine. I’m in. But know that if he pulls it off, I will kill both of you. Slowly. And use your skulls as food dishes for my cats. And also kill him on the wedding night.”

“Noted, Freyja.”

So the gods returned to the craftsman and agreed, with a condition; he would only have one season to complete the work, and it must be done without any aid save that of his horse.

“Deal.” He agreed immediately. “But you’ve all gotta swear a binding oath that you will keep your word.”

The myth does not specify that he was, specifically, eyeballing Loki and Odin at that part, so I am forced to assume that he was.

The gods all do. The craftsman gets straight to work, and the wall begins going up at an impressive pace. As Freyja’s scowl deepened, it was noticed that the man’s mighty stallion, Svadilfari, was doing most of the work, hauling stones larger than any normal horse could shift and never seeming to tire.

“It’s fine!!!” A sweating Loki assures a glowering Freyja. “Just fine! The horse will tire, he won’t finish it!”

But winter wears on, the wall grows, and it’s soon clear that the horse will not tire, and the man will indeed complete his work. Freyja has taken to making throat-cutting gestures at both Odin and Loki whenever she sees them.

Three days from the end of winter, and only the final layer of stones for the gates need to be laid. I picture here Odin and Loki watching the mason pack up his tools and horse for the evening and ride off, secure in the knowledge that he will soon wed Freyja and take the sun and moon.

“He could do it.” Loki squints up at the wall.

“Yep.” Says Odin, sipping mead.

“He’s a frost giant, isn’t he?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Got this won, he has.” Loki nods, sipping his own mead.

“Oh, yes.”

“Freyja cornered me today and threatened to feed my balls to her cats.”

“She’s going to use my remaining eye as a necklace too, apparently.”

“She’d make it painful, too.”

“Yep.” Odin refills both their ale horns with mead. “Because, of course, there is no one in Asgard who would, in this situation…how did you put it the other day?”

“Cheat like a motherfucker.”

“Yes, that’s it. No one at all.”

“I’ve got a plan.”

A grin from the Old Bastard, a sort of half smirking wolfish grin. “I knew you would.”

They then clink mean horns and cackle like hyenas for a full minute and a half.

The next day, the mason arrives for his work and begins cutting more stones as his stallion grazes. As he works, a pretty young mare prances out of the woods, tossing her mane and tail and giving Svadilfari come-hither glances.

Svadilfari sniffs, decides in .000000003 seconds that a young mare in season is infinitely more interesting than hauling rocks, and takes off after her. The mare dashes ahead of him, staying juuuuuuust out of reach as the giant swore and cursed back by the sledge.

The mare, of course, is Loki. He leads Svadilfari a merry chase, but is still Loki, and allows herself to be caught eventually. Loki and Svadilfari proceed to have a grand few days in a nice clearing in the woods, far from Asgard and Svadilfari’s master.

Meanwhile, the three days come and go. The giant tries his hardest, but cannot finish the wall without Svadilfari. At last the sun sets on the end of the season, and the wall remains unfinished. He has not completed his task, and Freyja and the sun and moon are lost to him.

“YOU CHEATED!!!” He presumably yelled, swelling to giant size and revealing himself as a frost giant at last.

“I didn’t do a single thing,” Says the Allfather, which to be fair is technically true. "Go from this place. You have lost.“

The enraged giant did not. Therefore, he was paid, instead of his wages, a blow of Thor’s hammer to the head, which shattered his skull and killed him on the spot.

Loki did not return for many months, though there were sightings in the forest of a pretty mare with an eight legged foal on occasion. Finally, Loki reappeared at the gates of Asgard with a weanling foal in tow. The foal had eight legs, and followed Loki as a young horse will its mother. The gods all, presumably, gave each other Significant Looks at this.

Loki took the foal before Odin, who also presumably raised an eyebrow.

“You know, you didn’t have to do it that way, but good job.”

“Hey I didn’t question the whole tie yourself to a tree thing, you don’t question my methods. Also, this is Sleipnir. Sleipnir, this is Uncle Odin. You stick with him and be a good boy, okay? Remember, mommy loves you and will come to visit but you’re a big boy now and I need to get back to my other interests.”

And that is how Odin obtained Sleipnir, the eight legged steed that carries him through the realms.

2AM - part 11 (A Minseok Series)

The sleep was deep between Minseok’s sheets and within his arms. The steady rhythm of his breathing pulled you under fast and the tight grip of his arms around your waist loosened as he drifted until your conscious reality faded and you woke up hours later tangled in limbs and bed sheets with the sensation of someone’s hands running along your bare thighs.

Keep reading

on their first date

What if the dinner at Angelo’s went differently? All it takes is stepping on a butterfly to change fate. (x)

Tagging @a-candle-for-sherlock @missmuffin221 @ailynerie @shag-me-senseless-watson @very-grumpy-bisexual @love-in-mind-palace @fangirllock @one-thousand-splendid-stars @the-blue-carbuncle (Let me know if you’d like a tag in any future stuff! I might turn this into a series.)



This is as cliché as it could have gotten.

Nestled together beneath delicate lights, the small Italian café soaking warmth into bones chilled by the London air. A table so small, two sets of knees could knock together with just a shift of weight (that is, if either of the knee-owners so inclined). Enough familiarity to settle into the scene with ease, though enough of strangers to still wary of the other. A candle flickering between them.

It’s enough to make you think. To make you wonder.

“You don’t have a girlfriend, then?”

When Sherlock hears you, you never can tell if he’s actually listening. “Girlfriend? No, not really my area.”

“Mm.” John says, and then freezes, the full intent settling in his stomach. Oh. “Oh, right.” A beat. “D’you have a boyfriend?”

Now Sherlock is listening, head immediately snapping to his companion with sharp, appraising eyes. His brow is furrowed. It makes him look boyish and, well, human, a word John has quickly learned not to affiliate with the man. John’s worried he’s actually offended him.

“Which is fine, by the way.”

“I know it’s fine.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

How do you feel being seen as THE fictitious languages guy by mainstream media?

Not great, to be honest. I’d prefer if it were the way it is with actors, directors, etc. There are actors that are hot for a given period of time (e.g. Jennifer Lawrence, Chris Pratt), and they’re great, but no one thinks of them as the only actors: They’re just really good actors that are hot at the moment. I’m often portrayed in interviews like I’m either the only language creator, or the only one available at the moment, despite the fact that there have got to be at least 100 living language creators at the moment that are at my level or better—and, of course, thousands of others that are on their way to being at that level. Can you imagine if actors, for example, got asked the same type of questions I’m asked in interviews?

  • So you actually invented a fake person, and you pretend to be this fake person in the movie? How does that work?
  • Why would they hire you to be this fake person, when they could actually go and find a real (construction worker, Wall Street executive, dance instructor, lifeguard) instead? Then it would be a real (construction worker, etc.) on screen instead of a fake one!
  • Do you pretend to be this fake person at home with your (spouse/children)?
  • How did you ever think up the idea of pretending to be a fake person? Did you read Shakespeare as a kid?

I try my best to talk about the fact that there are other language creators in interviews, and sometimes those answers make it to print, which is great, but it doesn’t seem to have made any impact. What we need is a guild akin to the Screen Actors Guild, but I’m not sure there’s enough work to justify (i.e. fund) it. Somehow it’ll get resolved if conlanging continues to get the kind of attention it’s getting now, and I want to have a role in that to make sure it gets resolved in favor of those who spend their lives working to perfect their craft. At the moment, though, we just have to wait and see.

2AM - part 1 (A Minseok Series)

Genre: Romance / Angst / Future Smut

Characters: Minseok X You

Description: You have been continuing a secret friends-with-benefits relationship with your best friends older brother Minseok, who is idol group EXO’s Xiumin, for two years now, while secretly concealing the very real growing feelings you’ve always had for him. A sudden blind date for you and for him suddenly forces you to face those feelings or end the relationship entirely.

A/N: so the Drabble game inspired this (anon submitted minseok+wet) and I finally got around to the final 1k followers submission which is Minseok FWB. This will be a series and you might be mad at me a little bit. :D

2AM - [M] part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12

“Why don’t you come over for dinner? My brother’s in town and he asked if you were coming over for dinner.”

He asked if you were coming over.

You stared down at your lit cellphone with the text from Minhee, your best friend since elementary school, a familiar rush of nerves bursting through your belly as you read it over and over.

He asked.

Keep reading

Confession: Arrow 5x17 Review (Kapiushon)

Episodes like “Kapiushon” are the reason I love Arrow.  Taunt, dramatic and emotional storytelling that is driving towards some larger truth.  We kid about Oliver’s manpain sometimes. Sometimes out of frustration for the things he does. Sometimes for Arrow’s laser focus on the central character, occasionally at the cost of a supporting character’s story. But Oliver Queen is the center of this story for a reason.  

Man or a Monster by Sam Tinnesz and Zayde Wolf

When you close your eyes, what do you see?

Do you hold the light, or is darkness underneath?

In your hands, there’s a touch that can heal

But in those same hands, is the power to kill

Are you a man, or a monster?

Are you a man, or a monster?

Are you a man, or a monster?

When you look at yourself, are you a man

Or a monster?

It’s so hard to tell which side you’re on

One day is Hell, the next day is the dawn

The lines are blurred, you keep rubbing your eyes

The tables turn, now it’s time to survive

Are you a man, or a monster?

Are you a man, or a monster?

Are you a man, or a monster?

When you look at yourself, are you a man

Or a monster? 

You can’t take back the damage you’ve done

Oh, you can hide, but you can’t run

No, you can’t take back the damage you’ve done

Afraid of what you might become

A man or a monster

Arrow is driving towards bigger questions with this character.  Who is Oliver Queen? Is he a hero? Is he a man at all? Or is he something much worse? This deep examination should force us to reflect on our own humanity, compassion and moral compass. It’s a lofty goal for a television show that’s “just on the CW” or “just a comic book show” but these are questions most shows are too afraid to ask. Arrow isn’t about Oliver’s manpain. It’s about his trauma. Real, excruciatingly painful, trauma and Oliver has to deal with it or he’ll never truly be free. 

Arrow is pushing Oliver, and us, towards these questions because they require answers. Since Oliver is the only one who can provide those answers, Arrow forced him to face the darkness tonight. So he can find his way to the light. Real, lasting, life sustaining, light. This show was never just about a man becoming a hero. This show is about saving a man’s soul… but first we have to start with confession.

Let’s dig in…

Keep reading

Hatshepsut

Queen (c. 1508 BCE–c. 1458 BCE)

Hatshepsut was the longest reigning female pharaoh in Egypt, ruling for 20 years in the 15th century B.C. She is considered one of Egypt’s most successful pharaohs.

The only child born to the Egyptian king Thutmose I by his principal wife and queen, Ahmose, Hatshepsut was expected to be queen. After the death of her father at age 12, Hatsheput married her half-brother Thutmose II, whose mother was a lesser wife — a common practice meant to ensure the purity of the royal bloodline. During the reign of Thutmose II, Hatshepsut assumed the traditional role of queen and principal wife.

Thutmose II died after a 15 year reign, making Hatshepsut a widow before the age of 30. Hatshepsut had no sons — only a daughter, Neferure — and the male heir was an infant, born to a concubine named Isis.

Since Thutmose III was too young to assume the throne unaided, Hatshepsut served as his regent. Initially, Hatshepsut bore this role traditionally until, for reasons that are unclear, she claimed the role of pharaoh. Technically, Hatshepsut did not ‘usurp’ the crown, as Thutmose III was never deposed and was considered co-ruler throughout her life, but it is clear that Hatshepsut was the principal ruler in power.

She began having herself depicted in the traditional king’s kilt and crown, along with a fake beard and male body. This was not an attempt to trick people into thinking she was male; rather, since there were no words or images to portray a woman with this status, it was a way of asserting her authority.

Under Hatshepsut’s reign, Egypt prospered. Unlike other rulers in her dynasty, she was more interested in ensuring economic prosperity and building and restoring monuments throughout Egypt and Nubia than in conquering new lands.

She built the temple Djeser-djeseru (“holiest of holy places”), which was dedicated to Amon and served as her funerary cult, and erected a pair of red granite obelisks at the Temple of Amon at Karnak, one of which still stands today. Hatshepsut also had one notable trading expedition to the land of Punt in the ninth year of her reign. The ships returned with gold, ivory and myrrh trees, and the scene was immortalized on the walls of the temple.

The queen died in early February of 1458 B.C. In recent years, scientists have speculated the cause of her death to be related to an ointment or salve used to alleviate a chronic genetic skin condition - a treatment that contained a toxic ingredient. Testing of artifacts near her tomb have revealed traces of a carcinogenic substance.

Late in his reign, Thutmose III began a campaign to eradicate Hatshepsut’s memory: He destroyed or defaced her monuments, erased many of her inscriptions and constructed a wall around her obelisks. While some believe this was the result of a long-held grudge, it was more likely a strictly political effort to emphasize his line of succession and ensure that no one challenged his son Amenhotep II for the throne.

2.2.17

I couldn’t get the legs to stay up without being leaned against a wall so I constructed a structure out of wood to keep them up (it’s hidden inside the legs) and tbh I’m beaming bc I’ve never worked with wood and I’m just really proud of solving a sculpture problem without anyone else’s help!

2

Gabriel had always flirted with you. You would acknowledge it and sometimes flirt back, witty banter flying back and forth, but that was as far is it usually went. There was chemistry, sure, but there had always been a barrier up–some wall you constructed to keep yourself at a distance–to keep yourself from getting hurt or hurting him… but now something strange was happening…

Gabriel had made one of his typical flirtatious jokes, and instead of just smiling good-naturedly at him and rewarding him with a jovial laugh you were looking at him and biting your bottom lip, your gaze unwavering. He’d never actually caught you looking at him like that before (though it did happen when his attention was elsewhere).

“…What?” he asked.

You grinned at him and shrugged. “Nothing,” you said, the smile frozen on your lips. You looked like you had a secret you were trying to keep to yourself.

“Whaaaaaat is happening? Why are you looking at me like that?” Gabriel asked.

You began to take a few steps toward the archangel. “Like what?” you asked. Your voice was silky and low. It made his hair stand on end.

“Like–like that.” Gabe took a step back and his back was against the wall.

You were right in front of him now, your eyes flickering over his face. He was baffled. You reached up and fixed a crinkle in his shirt collar, then smoothed your hand down the front of his chest. This was the first deliberate physical contact the two of you had ever had and his heart was racing from it like he was on the battlefield with legions of angels behind him. 


This imagine brought to you for Supporting Character Saturday!

Stormpilot: Gay Cowboy Style

Poe Dameron.

Most notorious outlaw West of the Mississippi. Maybe East of it as well. He wouldn’t know. Never had much cause to go back that way.

It was unsurprising, given his parentage. Ma’s brains and pa’s shooting were the two gifts they’d left him before they passed, and they’d served him well all his life.

He’d been more or less on his own ever since. He partnered up when it suited him, but extending trust too far had taught him lessons early on he wasn’t likely to forget, and once he cleared adolescence he made it policy never to let anyone get too close.

He was a rogue of the West, and spent his days creating headaches and causing trouble for the men he deemed unfit to lead, relieving them of goods and wealth he didn’t think they deserved. He spent his days helping folk who needed it- and helping himself when he needed it- and always staying one step ahead of the law.

He never expected one day he’d be in desperate need of help from someone else.

And he most definitely never expected that help to come from a deputy of the most corrupt sheriff the West had ever seen.

Poe had a tendency to walk into every town like he owned the place. It didn’t always serve him well, but who didn’t love a good bar brawl now and then? Got the juices flowin’. Made a man feel alive.

Still, he was forced to admit it may have been a poor move, heading into the township of Sheriff Ren with an excess of swagger and a defect of fear… especially given their history, and how much of a rotten pissant the man was.

Poe had a tendency to walk into every town like he owned the place. It didn’t always serve him well, but who didn’t love a good bar brawl now and then? Got the juices flowin’. Made a man feel alive.

Still, he was forced to admit it may have been a poor move, heading into the township of Sheriff Ren with an excess of swagger and a defect of fear… especially given their history, and how much of a rotten pissant the man was.

Sure enough, he’d only just finished his first whiskey and started scoping about for the right kind of gamblers to swindle out of their gold (trying to be too intrigued by that guy in the corner by himself, drinking quietly with his head down and what look’s like the weight of the world on his shoulders), when the cavalry arrived, a veritable storm of bounty hunters, deputies and average folk wanting a piece of the prize. They clutched wanted posters and pistols in their fists and had dollar signs in their eyes.

Goddamn.

He gave them a run for their money. At least he liked to tell himself as much when he thought back on it years later, but the men he’d rode into town with proved yellow as soon as the first wave of hunters came into the saloon. Turned tail faster than a beat dog.

Not surprising.

Poe had a knack for getting himself out of dicey situations, usually through the use of his considerable wit, charm and his blessedly dashing looks. Sadly, it seemed talking his way out of this one wasn’t going to work for once. Sheriff Ren had lost a whole lot of good money on account of Poe, and he was not the forgiving type.

Poe’s luck, it seemed, had finally caught up with him.

___

He was set to be hanged at high noon, but the noose never touched his neck.

Not, sadly, due to any ingenious plan of his own, but by the mercy of a complete stranger.

The most courageous and hopelessly naive man he’d ever come across in his life or probably ever would again.

His goddamn hero.

Finn.

They escaped by the skin of their teeth and headed into the wilds. Poe was pretty banged up, courtesy of Sheriff Kylo Ren and his lackeys, but there was air in his lungs and blood still pumped in his veins, and for that he was infinitely grateful. He also had a certain amount of gratitude for the gentleness of the courageous stranger’s hands, and the way he doctored Poe’s wounds with such patience and care, never once commenting if Poe winced or cried out in pain.

He tried not to dwell on that bit, and managed for the most part.

The Sheriff, it seemed, was not a man to be trifled with. For Poe to have crossed him not once but twice and still be breathing was already more than he could handle. That he’d managed to escape through betrayal by one of his own deputies was more than he could bear.

He pursued them relentlessly.

With such enormous targets on their backs, it only made sense to stick together, to watch one another’s until the danger passed.

Just for a while, Poe told himself.

‘Til they got far enough away Ren would give up, if that ever happened.

In the mean time, Finn was doing this really unsettling thing where he was acting like a good man and it was doing a number on Poe’s carefully constructed walls. He had determined long before meeting Finn that that such men didn’t exist, or were few and far between. He tried not to like him overmuch, but you can’t be around that kind of relentless earnestness and not be affected by it.

In a thousand little ways, without even knowing it Finn seemed dead set on shaking him up and proving his closely held beliefs wrong.

He did it again and again, and Poe was powerless to stop it. He did it with his easy laugh, or the way it just seemed so easy for him to dole out kindness. In the way he tended to horses, always chattering away to them as he did, calling them pretty when they were good and chastising them when they weren’t. In the way he always offered up peppermint or licorice when he got a stash in town, or the way his eyes sparkled with enjoyment when he and Poe argued about the merits (or lack thereof) of licorice, or whatever silly thing they picked to fill up the quiet.

He didn’t even make it a week before he started thinking of Finn as the best damn friend he’d ever had.

 

It had been over a year since Finn cut him down from the gallows and out of the jaws of death.

Ren stopped chasing them, or at least lost their trail, but they never did manage to part ways. At this point, Poe was certain the only way Finn would ever get rid of him would be if he decided to pump him full of bullets and leave him for dead.

Dammit, even if he did that (not that Poe could even imagine it), Poe was sure he’d crawl across the entire fucking desert just to look him in the eyes and ask him why.

Finn wasn’t just his friend any more.

He wanted him to be, desperately but more than half a year ago, things had started to get twisted up in Poe’s head and he couldn’t untangle them. Maybe longer ago than that.

He tried not to think about it, and by day they were usually too busy outrunning and outgunning trouble for him to fret about it. But by night, the yearning had started to creep in, and it was all Finn’s goddamn fault.

Finn was too goddamn soft.

It was impossible not to think about him in the kinda way a man shouldn’t think about another. His eyes were kind and his laugh was easy, and Poe spent so much time just trying to avert his gaze, to push down the longing so he wouldn’t act like a damn fool and scare off the best thing that ever happened to him. Because that’s what Finn was.

The kind of man who’d take a bullet for you without a second thought. The kind of man you could tell things to, things Poe never thought he’d say out loud to anyone. Things about his parents, or the things Poe did to survive in the first few years after their passing. Things he never wanted to say, things he never thought he could, seemed to just come out of him when he looked at chocolate colored eyes gleaming in the firelight, sensitive and patient.

Stopping the thing inside him is impossible, Poe knew that. Poe didn’t think anyone who lived a life in such shadow could come into contact with the light that was Finn and not come ti love him with every last bit of themselves.

Stopping such feelings was more than impossible, but controlling them wasn’t. At nights, he laid awake and thought about what Finn’s strong arms would feel like around him, what those beautiful hands would feel like on his body, but by days he smiled at him but never for too long.


And then one night at their campfire, when the ache had gotten so bad that Poe thought he might just get on his horse and ride away and never look back, Finn simply leaned over and pressed his lips against Poe’s. It was gentle and his lips were soft, and it lasted only seconds before he pulled back and fixed Poe with a stare that was equal parts heated and terrified.

Poe’s heart nearly stopped and his brain worked overtime trying to catch up on what had just happened, that brief, beautiful and entirely unexpected thing.

They’d run outta whiskey two nights before, so there was no way he could blame it on…

So that meant…did Finn want…?

“If I crossed a line, and you wanna take a swing at me, I understand,” Finn said, eyes downcast but still reflecting firelight. “Though I’d take it as kindness if you didn’t,” he mumbled, and something inside Poe exploded, because how could Finn not know, how could he not know that he was everything? From the minute he cut him down from the gallows, and every minute after.

Then show him, growled an impatient voice in his head, and he finally had the sense to take Finn by the jaw and return his kiss hard enough to hurt.

And that was it.

The end of the longing, the beginning of a life he never knew he wanted.

They got by on skirting the law for another couple of years. Finn, in spite of his charming naivety, proved useful in a fight and could usually be trusted to help carry out a scheme of Poe’s without difficulty.

They kept it up, toeing the lines of right and wrong to get by, but once they realized the extent of the thing between them, they knew it was time to stop running and start living.

So that’s what they do.

They find themselves a nice-sized plot with the money they’ve taken from them who never deserved it, in a place where no one they’ve crossed will be likely to find them.

It’s not much, really, the life they have. No one else would ever find it particularly grand or exciting. The men he’d known in his glory days, the men he’d fought with, killed with…they’d laugh in his face to see him now. And maybe try to stick a knife in him for being so wrong.

Poe doesn’t care. He has Finn now, Finn who is the best man he’s ever known, maybe the best man who ever lived. He has Finn however he wants, whenever he wants and Finn has him back.

In the bed they share, on the rug in front of the wood stove. In the grassy field under the summer sun, or when they crawl out of the creek after a swim, shivering and nude and in need of the best kind of warmth. After they bicker over whether or not raising chickens is worth the effort, after Finn shows him how to make a cobbler.

No matter where it is, no matter what leads to it, from the first time as young, men embarking on something alien and terrifying, to the very last, when they’re both gray and more than a little achey, every single time, it’s home.

ETA: Didn’t realize you could post graphics on AO3. Now there’s a version of it on there too. 

3

30-Foot Border Wall Prototypes Erected In San Diego Borderlands

Construction crews are erecting eight looming prototypes of President Trump’s border wall in a remote section of the San Diego borderlands. Four are solid concrete; four are made of steel and concrete; one is topped with spikes. They all approach 30 feet in height. The cost is $20 million, which Congress had set aside in its current budget. Crews in yellow hardhats working with cranes and forklifts are expected to complete the models by the end of the month.

On Tuesday, the president tweeted, “BORDER WALL prototypes underway!” above pictures of the sand-colored barriers. Sector Chief Roy Villareal declines to predict the future of the prototypes, or whether they are, in fact, a model for a wall to be ultimately constructed somewhere along the southern frontier.

Continue reading

Photos: Bill Wechter for NPR

anonymous asked:

so... any more like that king james post?

Son, it’s time you learnt about… King Edward II of England.

Boring disclaimer: there is no explicit evidence of the true nature of Edward’s relationship with Piers Gaveston or Hugh Despenser. There are no love letters or saucy satirical poetry, a la King James I. There are no sex tapes. All we have is conjecture and circumstantial evidence (and some sources, but not many). It should also be noted that we can’t say with any certainty that Edward II was what we (although not him, as the terms and frameworks are modern) would term ‘homosexual’, ‘bisexual’ or ‘heterosexual’. Relationships between men were often incredibly close, bordering on romantic, with no clear definition between platonic and romantic. It was only really unusual when there was a sexual component involved, and the lack of evidence of this component means that it would be impossible to ascribe a definitive homosexual identity to the two men. However, the lack of evidence does not necessarily mean a lack of veracity, and it’s not impossible that the two were sexually involved. It’s just important to remember that modern labels don’t always fit past figures, because history and all.

Our merry historical jaunt begins with the saucy tale of

Piers Gaveston: in which the dangers of ignoring your barons and giving all your land, treasure and undivided attention to one man becomes apparent

  • So, this begins with King Edward I, who was the king of England from 1272-1307. He was also nicknamed ‘Longshanks’ because of his long legs, which is completely irrelevant, but interesting. In 1300, a saucy 16 year old (or thereabouts) named Piers Gaveston joined the household of Edward I, at the behest of Edward I, who thought he was a pretty decent chap and definitely not about to lead his son astray or anything like that. Fairly soon after that, Edward I became the human embodiment of that ‘I have made a terrible mistake’ gif that everyone used to post back in 2013, because Prince Edward and Gaveston became absolutely inseparable. Prince Edward kept demanding more and more titles for Gaveston and his family, giving him fancy gifts of treasure and land and probably those really expensive watches, and at one point the king became concerned that Gaveston might actually be a bit of a problem when it came to his son producing heirs, and Gaveston was banished from court and exiled, albeit with an allowance. 
  • Edward I died in 1307. His dying wish was that Gaveston should never be allowed back into the country, to which Prince Edward said ‘yes, dad, I will absolutely adhere to your last wish, because I am your respectful son and heir. Oh, you’re dead? I’m Edward II now? Cool! Time to fetch Gaveston and give him loads of land! What a guy.’
  • Edward II was crowned in 1308, and subsequently married Isabella of France, who was two things: an absolute badass, and also a 12 year old girl. That was fine in those days, so everyone just went along with it and assumed that Edward and Isabella would be happy together forever. They were not entirely correct.
  • Within a month of Edward I’s death, Edward II had made Gaveston the Earl of Cornwall, and was a bit naughty about it. By some accounts, Gaveston hadn’t known that this was his plan, and Edward claimed that he had asked his barons for advice, but that was a load of old wank, because the barons hated Gaveston and would probably rather construct a wall made of actual corn and slap a title on that. In 1308, in a pattern which should not have surprised anyone at this point, Edward’s courtiers began to worry about the extent of Gaveston’s influence on the king, with some describing him as being ‘like a second king’. By some accounts, the two were never apart, even sharing a bed on some occasions, and many noblemen began to worry that Gaveston was influencing royal policy, which, now that I think about it, might have been a euphemism. They forced Edward to exile Gaveston again in 1308 upon threat of excommunication, which he did, but Gaveston was allowed to serve in Ireland in a military capacity, as Lieutenant of Ireland (which Gaveston was weirdly great at. Legitimately.) Edward also gave him and his wife a lot of money. Like, a lot. So that’s nice.
  • In 1309, Edward began attempting to compromise with the barons who had ordered Gaveston’s exile. He promised them more land and power, and to stop his really annoying habit of refusing to meet any of them unless Gaveston was also in the room, if they would overturn the exile. They refused, probably accurately assuming that things would be just as bad as before. In response, Edward began to royally suck up to the powers that be, giving land and titles to members of the Pope’s family until he received a papal annulment of the threat of Gaveston’s exile and agreed to sign a statute relieving some of the earls’ problems, and Gaveston returned.
  • Things improved a lot after that, by which I mean that Gaveston began to give all the earls horrible nicknames and Edward II gave him his own personal armed guard, as well as access to the treasury. Fed up beyond belief at this point, the barons drew up a series of reforms known as the Ordinances of 1311, and forced the king to sign them, saying that civil war would ensue if he didn’t. As well as limitations on Edward’s power as king, these reforms included articles about punishment owed to Gaveston for his offences. By some accounts, Edward promised to agree to all articles diminishing his own power if the barons would allow Gaveston to remain as Earl of Cornwall, to which the barons laughed heartily and exiled Gaveston for a third time, with the promise of death if he were to return. 
  • In 1312, the King demanded that Gaveston return ‘by the king’s order’, ostensibly to visit his pregnant wife but probably just to piss the barons off. Some people suggest that Edward got so desperate at this point that he even offered to recognise Robert the Bruce, the man who had spent his entire life at war with England, as the king of Scotland if he would acknowledge Gaveston as having a right to live in England, but that might be nothing more than a story. Whatever happened, the barons were indeed pissed off, and executed Gaveston.
  • Their love affair lives on in Christopher Marlowe’s play of 1592, Edward II, which deals fairly explicitly with their romantic relationship (although not that explicitly, you can take your grandma to see it). 

Luckily, after that, Edward II learned his lesson about taking royal favourites and using them to piss off his barons by giving them lavish gifts and making them Earls of random places, and he absolutely definitely never took another male favourite ever again, which leads right onto 

Hugh Despenser: in which the whole thing happens all over again, only with less exile and more outright bloody civil war, and also waxworks

  • In 1318, a man named Hugh Despenser was made royal chamberlain, and, despite having enjoyed a fairly lukewarm acquaintance before this point, quickly became a favourite of Edward II. By 1320, he was running around demanding titles and money all over the damn place, and Edward was acquiescing all over the same damn place. At this point, most barons were probably wishing that they’d never executed Gaveston, because compared to Despenser, he was a saint. If Gaveston had been a pain in the arse, then Despenser was a pain in every single arse this side of the equator. He was, by all accounts, pretty obnoxious. Unlike Gaveston, who had mostly been interested in shiny things and status, Despenser was interested in power and politics, and used his status to manoeuvre his way up the ranks of English politics like a little worm on a very small ladder. Oh, and Despenser’s wife was also Edward II’s niece. Just so you know.
  • By 1321, everyone hated Despenser except for Edward. Edward’s wife, Isabella, was one of his most vehement detractors. The reason for her hatred of him, seeing as she’d always tolerated Gaveston, isn’t really known - lots of theories have been purported, primarily focusing on Despenser’s reputation of assaulting noblewomen, and possibly Isabella herself. I did tell you that he was awful. Subsequently, some barons rebelled, starting what are now known as the Despenser Wars. There was even an event where some barons contracted a local magician, John of Nottingham, to kill Edward and Despenser by making wax figures of them and destroying them. Bizarrely, it didn’t work. The barons lost the war in 1322, and Edward and Hugh reigned supreme, and by ‘supreme’, I mean ‘with an iron fist’, and by ‘with an iron fist’, I mean ‘like Joffrey Lannister’. 
  • Over the next 4 years, Edward began to severely punish the barons who had been involved in the Despenser Wars. He would execute the barons, then confiscate their widows’ land and give it to someone whose name, you’ll be unsurprised to hear, was Hugh Despenser. Many of these widows were Isabella’s friends, and, despite having been broadly supportive of Edward up to this point, she began to plot against him. She refused to take an oath of loyalty to the Despensers, and Edward retaliated by taking her land, her assets, and even her children, placing them in the custody of… look, do I even need to tell you which family he gave his own children to? It was the Despensers. What a surprise.
  • Remember how I said that Isabella was a badass? This is why. In 1326, she went to France to negotiate with the French king on Edward’s behalf. Whilst there, she made the acquaintance of Roger Mortimer, a marcher lord who didn’t much care for her husband, having been imprisoned by him in the Tower of London for his part in the Despenser Wars. Romance ensued, and so did plotting. Lots of both.
  • With an army of about 1,500 soldiers, Isabella then invaded England, by some accounts whilst dressed as a goddamn widow, and took back her children and her land. This led to two weeks chasing Edward and Hugh Despenser around South Wales, which honestly needs to be a short video with just Edward and Despenser hiding in various castles and Isabella catching up with them and saying ‘look, I can see you both, you’re hiding under the bed,’ and Edward and Despenser shrieking ‘no, you can’t see us! We’re not here!’ until finally Isabella took back her husband. Only by ‘took back’ her husband, I mostly mean ‘imprisoned’. She had Despenser executed in a rather grisly fashion, including but not limited to castration (a joke at his being a ‘sodomite’, as they named him) and having his body chopped up. Grisly.
  • Edward’s fate is unknown, even to this day. A popular urban myth is that he was executed by having a red hot poker shoved up his royal bottom, supposedly so as not to leave any trace of the murder, but this is nowadays widely accepted as being medieval propaganda designed to poke fun at his possible sexual relationships with Gaveston and Despenser.

All of which is really a very long-winded way of saying that Edward II was a terrible king and should definitely have spent more time ruling the country and less time underestimating his wife, but he was also a very interesting figure in terms of being pretty openly Not Heterosexual, and how he’s been vilified, even to this day, for his sexuality. Lots of people still know him as the guy who prioritised his lovers over his country, and that makes sense because he was about as good a king as a wet ham sandwich by all accounts, but they often think of his sexual preferences as being intrinsic to that, as though he would have been inherently better as a king and human being if his lovers had been female instead. Granted, they would have had less recourse to gain political power than his male lovers did because women couldn’t hold the same levels of status or land, but that’s the fault of the political system, not Edward’s sexuality. It would be good if the whole ‘bad gay’ narrative could be superseded by a ‘bad king’ one, but y’know. Let’s not live in hope.

Sources (collated from Warner, Kathryn, Edward II: The Unconventional King): 

  • Vita Edwardi Secundi 
  • Chronicles of Meaux Abbey
  • Close Rolls (of the reign of Edward II)
3

By the time bidding closed Tuesday, there was no lack of companies competing to build the wall President Trump has proposed for the border between the U.S. and Mexico. In fact, by The Associated Press’ count, upwards of 200 organizations had expressed interest in designing and building it for Customs and Border Protection.

Despite their common goal, the companies submitting bids have followed some radically different paths in their approach.

Among the submissions are walls with solar panels, wire mesh and sloped, slippery surfaces. There are even walls that are no walls at all — statements standing instead as protests of a policy that from the start has drawn a lot of resistance.

PHOTOS: The Many Possible Shapes Of Trump’s Border Wall

Images: Courtesy of Otra Nation, Courtesy of Hadrian Construction Company, Courtesy of the Penna Group

The Labyrinth Chapter 8

Genre: Gang AU/ High School AU
Pairing: Reader/Jimin
Length: 2186
Summary: Finding an injured boy collapsing in front of your house, you decide to help him, only to find out he’s associated with some underground business. After that fateful night, you surprisingly find him in the new class you had just transferred into. 

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12 || Jin Trailer ||

Originally posted by bts-we-are-bulletproof

Keep reading

Some Klance things to consider:

  • Keith calling Lance pet names, but it’s hard for him at first.  He mumbles the names for the longest time and Lance makes jabs like, “What was that, honey?” and laughs at how flustered it makes his boyfriend.
  • Whenever Lance gets nervous, he can’t stop talking, and Keith can just tell that Lance is exhausted, so he puts his hand on Lance’s cheek and rubs his thumb along his cheekbone.  Lance slowly stops talking and meets Keith’s gaze, so full of love and admiration, and just melts into Keith’s touch.
  • When Lance gets hurt in a battle, Keith hovers over him so much and is such a mother hen like, “Are you sure your pillows are fluffed enough? Do you need anything else?  Feeling any pain?” and Lance secretly loves it.
  • Keith has always had a fascination with space, so whenever he goes on a tangent about it, Lance half-listens because he’s more focused on the expressions Keith’s making, more open and vulnerable than when he’s with the rest of the team.  He watches him, maps out every detail of Keith’s face: the almost invisible freckles dusted along his cheeks, the sparkle in his eye when he gets really into something he’s saying, the way the light shines off his hair, the stray strand in his bangs that bobs along with Keith’s animated expressions, the way Keith talks with his hands, arms flailing wildly as he really gets going…He may not have the same view on space as Keith does, but he really enjoys these little moments where all the walls Keith has constructed to keep his real self isolated start to crumble and the genuine Keith shines through the cracks.  
  • When they have their first fight, it’s more of a passive aggressive one.  They may be in the same room, but you can bet your ass they’ll ask Hunk or Pidge to relay their messages to one another because both of them have so much pride and heaven forbid they’re the one to apologize first.  The tension between them doesn’t last long though, the initial adrenaline from the fighting is replaced with an empty feeling.  They miss each other and that’s how it ends, both of them meeting in the hallway, apologies already on the tip of their tongues.  They both talk over each other, and it always ends with them retiring to one of their rooms together, hands intertwined.  
  • When Lance misses home, Keith spends every second with him, pressed close to his side and hand never letting go of Lance’s.  They stay up past lights out, cuddled close together in the control room and watching the planets go by, pretending one of them is Earth.  They’ll retire to Lance’s room when they’re both nodding off and curl up in his bed, Keith tucking himself as close as he can to Lance and placing kisses to any skin he sees.  Lance wraps his arms around him and Keith lets him cry into his shoulder until he falls asleep.  When he’s sleeping, Keith watches the sadness and fear drain from his face, a peaceful look taking its place.  He kisses Lance’s tears away as he sleeps and settles himself so his head is pressed against Lance’s chest.  He falls asleep to the comforting sound of Lance’s heart beating, slow and steady, and knows that everything’s going to be okay.