war rug

kendrawriter  asked:

I just watched some Richonne videos based on your observations about them and DAYUM. YES. YAAAS. what do you think is in store for them season 8? ::reaches for popcorn::

Oh, lol 😊😊 All thanks and praise for those videos go to @musethedead! 💜 I’m glad you liked them I thought they were beautifully done!

As for Richonne in season 8 🤔 Based solely on the trailer it’s looking like they’re gonna be separated for a while so I’m hoping we get a Richonne/Grimes Family 2.0 scene in the first episode to tide us over for a bit. Depending on how much time has passed (this show has always been pretty iffy about timelines) Michonne may still be recovering so she’s likely to stay in Alexandria while Rick goes off to fight Negan (at least for the first attack).

Perhaps a cute scene where they’re saying goodbye and Judith or Carl finally calls her mom! Rick’s speechless at first, but then just smiled, kissed Michonne, and tells them he’s coming back (and then gets his ass kidnapped by junkyard bitch, so Michonne’s gotta grab her sword and do some good old fashioned saving of her man!). That’ll probably take a couple of episodes (or 3, knowing how TWD loves to drag things out), then hopefully we get an awesome assault on the junkyard with Michonne leading the attack. Or, if I get my way and since it looks like it’s just her and Rosita, Michonne harkened back to her season 3 days of being stealthy and sneaking in and out of places without anyone noticing. Her and Rosita (successfully) perform a black ops mission on the junkyard and rescue Rick. They’ve been there enough times to get a feel for the place. Maybe even steal back the guns, then return in the day or the next night to ambush the place and take out Jadis for snatching her man and trying to do god knows what with him. Then she and Rick go home after all of that awesomeness and with the drumbeat of war pounding for Negan in the near distance, they make passionate love on the floor of their bedroom (someone get my babies a mattress, Rick’s gonna go to war with rug burns on his poor knees!). And this isn’t just wanton, in the back of the van “honeymoon” style loving making. This is deep, slow, lights on eyes locked, bodies heaving, dripping sweat kinda love. They’re trying to keep quiet cause of the kids, but Rick’s moaning her name with each stroke, her fingers are twisted in his hair. They’re clinging to each other, lips are barely touching, breathing each other’s air. Rick smiles. Michonne returns the gesture.

Would we love to hear them say ‘I love you’? You bet your ass we do, but we don’t need to. It’ll ruin the mood. They’ve always spoken with their eyes and they’re doing it right now. Two warriors, making sweet love the night before devastating war against an overwhelming force. And they’re the happiest people in the whole damn apocalypse. Because they love each other. They have each other. They have Carl, Judith, Team Family, Alexandria, the Kingdom, Hilltop, and they don’t know it yet, but Oceanside is coming baby.

So no, we don’t get an ‘I love you’ from either of them. Just a quick kiss as Michonne brushes tresses of soft curls out of Rick’s sweaty face. They touch heads, content… Rick murmurs something into her beautiful skin and she cries.

“Thank you.”

it’s been months, by the dead of June the rest have all been forgotten. Lurking through the woods, 29 NHL teams watch the Penguins, waiting. No one’s seen teams like the Canadiens, the Bruins, The Canucks, since April. In their absence flowers grew, the trees got their leaves back, the Stanley Cup was awarded. 

On top of the mountain, The Pens have all the attention. The sun is shining right down on them, and all of their championship glory.

And then, a rumble.

Noise from the forests below, it’s not just about the pens anymore. Patrice Bergeron emerges, war-torn and rugged, making his way up the mountain, a determined look on his face and a bow in his hand. But no time to be alarmed by him, PK Subban and Brent Burns, carrying makeshift swords exit the forest from the opposite direction, making their own way up the mountain. Conor McDavid peers through the branches before waving on Ghostisbehere. 

“What is this?” Matt Murray asks, stepping forward and looking out as more and more NHL players make their way up the mountains. 

“They’re here.” Sidney Crosby says, unsheathing his own sword, “the NHL awards, they’re coming, it’s not about us anymore.”

There’s a shrill cry. Conor Sheary has spotted Patrice Bergeron.

“Omg,” he whispers to Kuhnhackl “I love him.”

HEMA trendsetters and other persons of interest

As a follow-up to my visual guide to historical fencers, and inspired by one or two recent posts about HEMA stereotypes, I thought I could highlight some other interesting outliers or trendsetters within the historical fencing community.

I’ll let you decide which of them may be pioneers, generations ahead of the rest of us, obsolete, atypical, interesting to look at or just plain freaky.

Out of respect and in order to protect their privacy, I’ve cleverly used censor bars.

Das Dreamboat

No one pulls off the middle-aged man in a colourful long-sleeve tight compression t-shirt with mismatching knee-length stripy socks with the aplomb of this particularly renown individual. Perhaps for very good reasons. Small wonder he has so many devout followers. The way his sword gently yet firmly binds, forever seeking openings. Oh my.

The Lobster People

Not much is known about these Lobster Peoples, other than the fact that they really really like leather armour. One can only surmise that there’s some measure of role playing and theatrical combat involved in whatever it is that they do. They are certainly living the dream. Particularly if it’s a dream that involves hard leather and butter sauce.

Poofy Pants to the Rescue!

Thank goodness for these folks! Trying to put the ‘Historical’ and ‘Happy’ into HEMA, you know? Because who doesn’t love MC Hammer or clowns? Hitler, that’s who!! And polyester is just so damn versatile! It’s what Joachim Meyer himself would wear if he were with us today. Respek!

Los Conquistadores

By constitutional law every single Spanish historical fencer must sport a dark & handsome goatee, much like Robert de Niro in The Mission or the bad guys in that Cate Blanchett movie where she and some pirates save England, or that other one with Aragorn in a big floppy hat whispering a lot in Mexican. This might mean that the Spaniards are the evil Spocks of HEMA, I’m not sure.

The King Arthurs

I miss these guys. I haven’t seen them for a while so I think they have their own things now. The Historical Medieval Armour Bashing Chivalrous Combat League of Nations or something. It’s totes cool. So historical. Much medieval. Very tournament. Many armours. Wow.

The Anachronistic Dandies

These well-groomed gentlemen are forever in the pursuit of fencing excellence and aesthetic elegance. They insist on good manners and refinement as the key to social influence and community building. Don’t be fooled by the blousy shirts and polite demeanour - violence is readily available upon request. They can be often found in meadows, harkening back on the glorious days of times past.

The Stormtrooper

Also referred to as ‘DIY Robocops’, ‘Road Warrior rejects’, ‘the Plastic Fantastics’ etc depending on who you ask. Laugh all you want, but when the inevitable collapse of civilisation is upon us, you’ll want some of these hard-shell guys around you during the global panic and mass riots.

The Sports Bra Cartwheeling Princess

Who in their right mind could possibly object to this trend? Yoga pants, no puncture resistant gear and actively trying to hit each other with pointy weapons? Well isn’t that just splendid. Fanfuckingtastic. What could ever possibly go wrong? We should all only train like this forever and ever and ever. OK, so I know some of you argue that they just wave their swords at each other relatively harmlessly, but still, giggity!

The Epic Freedom Beard

The lumberjack/hipster/civil war re-enactor/rugged/outdoorsy/manly-man thick spectacular beard look is having a great resurgence, particularly now that our masculinity is apparently under serious threat (!). It also tells the world that aside from having a white penis, your fencing mask is terribly itchy and uncomfortable and massively overheated, and THAT’S the way you like it, because fuck you that’s why.

The Nappy Brigade

Much like it’s impossible to take a bad picture of Barney Stinson, it’s physically impossible to take (or find!) a good picture of any of these diaper-folks in their crotch straps and (often) jeans. Something about the white balance and the light conditions in fencing halls affects the exposure or whatever, so the outcome is always strangely awkward, like they need a toilet break or something. On the other hand, their fencing is quite probably remarkable.

This is just a bit of satire, so some hyperbole may have been used for effect. Try not to get upset if you belong to one of these tribes. Please do remain calm and put the torches and pitchforks back down. You all look and fence great - yes yes, even you.

Afghan War Rug

by ReluctantRedditor275:

A buddy of mine brought this back for me from the front. They’re made by Afghan children learning the art of rug making and sold as novelties to Americans (obviously, mostly military and gov’t personnel).

I find that the downfall of any country is a story best told in a tapestry sewn by that country’s children.