#captain lavender

[limon-con-menta]

a doodle I painted on my phone of Captain Lavender lol

[justanoutlawfic]

What about Cecelia and Wish Hook?

Name: Ridley

Gender: Male

General Appearance: Dark hair and brown eyes. He tends to dress in torn jeans and beat up shirts, much to his mother’s dismay. Killian thinks it’s all apart of expressing yourself.

Personality: Charming and charismatic. He’s always fliting, it just sort of comes naturally to him and he doesn’t mean to most of the time.

Special Talents: He learns how to sail when he’s young, from his father.

Who they like better: He’s a lot closer to Killian, but he is still a Mama’s Boy at heart.

Who they take after more: Looks like Cecelia with Killian’s personality.

Personal Head canon: He’s raised in Storybrooke after the curse breaks and prefers it there, which is the contrast to Ella, Ana and Drizella who think the forest is their home. However, Alice agrees with him that modern technology is better.

Face Claim: Diego Tinoco

If they had a kid meme

[thatwhichisnotgold]

Hold up...ghost adventures met a fire martial named Captain Lavender. That's a cool ass name ok Can I have that?

[eaglebones-falconhawk]

Current mood: princess

[loneberry]

Play kisses stir the circuits of the underloved body to an ever-resurrection, a never-had tenderness that dies inside me.

Excerpts from Medbh McGuckian's Captain Lavender:

The Over Mother 

In the sealed hotel men are handled as if they were furniture, and passion exhausts itself at the mouth. Play kisses stir the circuits of the underloved body to an ever-resurrection, a never-had tenderness that dies inside me.

My cleverly dead and vertical audience, words fly out from your climate of unexpectation in leaky, shallowised night letters-- what you has spoken?

I keep seeing birds that could be you when you stretch out like a syllable and look to me as if I could give you wings.

. . . 

They say that I am not I, but some kind of we, that I do not know where I end. Sometimes there is no one to ask, no home for my hand. I feel my body poured into all the seasons. I put my hand into a flower like something with cold blood.

. . . 

2  Story Between Two Notes

You are the story I can't write. Every page of you has to be torn out of me. Even after your death when you are alone your mysteriously-suppressed name-sickness will weave itself into all I see.

. . . 

Now it is my name and not my number that is nobody now, walking on a demolished floor, where dreams have no moral.

. . .

Powerful ruffians in the middle of a room where one can ruin oneself, go mad, commit a crime, I lean back into you as into a gale, the tiny lung-particles of the world's virginity.

As if I had boarded a nineteenth-century train at a quarter after midnight, vibrating in the exciting blue of 'real' love, wind along the landscape, and the rest will slowly, slowly happen. 

. . . 

Leaving the room, you break off a piece of the world, around which my life is standing, through which my blood spreads. Missing so much world, you still hold out your hand for more world, your footsteps softening like a creature before whom doors give way. 

[samriegel]

Motochika

Your Japanese voice

is so

HORRIBLE

[samriegel]

CAPTAIN LAVENDER

CAPTAIN LAVENDER