After last night’s storms, a quiet, cooler day with humidity below 50 percent. This is a good thing. Doing knee strengthening exercises as I put this entry together. They aren’t all that much fun, but looking at Sir Guy is. The lashes, the stubble, the delicately-shaped lips that curve into such delicious smirks, the intensity of his gazes, the curls at the nape of his neck, the tousled mane . . . yup, those knees are hurting just a little less now. *sigh* Happy Guyday Friday, dear ones.
Such masculine beauty in the midst of all your angst, my beloved dark knight.
As if. They will never learn. Of course, Sir Guy, you DO look very ”come-hither” in your medieval go-go cage. Just sayin’ . . .
Menacing can be really sexy with the right equipment. And he’s got *it.*
Yes, I do believe the CReAtor read for the roles of both Sir Guy and Vasey. No offense, Keith, but I believe Mr. A would have had us even more enthralled with the Dark Side. But then–we’d have missed out on the six feet two inches of black leather-clad bodaciosity known as Sir Guy.
Says it all. Happy Guyday Friday!
And a little of our hot henchman in non-holiday (or hallucinatory) mode:
I don’t think the title of this post really needs much explanation. We’ll just use some visuals . . .
“Whot . . . no–vertically challenged hirsute would-be king appearing today?” The dark knight drawled, a glint of amusement in his kohl-rimmed blue eyes as he lounged against the door frame.
“It’s Guyday Friday, so I’d say it’s pretty much all about the six feet, two inches of smouldering testosterone-laden medieval gorgeousness,” Ladywriter replied insouciantly, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
Sir Guy rubbed his aquiline nose and gave a small yet manly sniff. “I wasn’t certain–after all, it seems it’s been Thorin Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday AND Thursday here at the blog, my lady.” There was a note of accusation beneath the sarcasm in the rumbling voice. Did she detect a hint of sadness in those mesmerizing eyes?
Ladywriter wriggled just a little uncomfortably. She had rather wallowed in all things Hobbity and Thorin-y. But with the big DVD release and new featurettes with so much Thorin goodness, wasn’t it only to be expected? Still, Sir Guy could be a little–sensitive at times.
“I promise–lots of Guy art, Guy vids, Guy goodness on the schedule for today.” She smiled and tilted her head. “Along with—strawberry rum cake. Moist and flavorful–with a kick.”
Both eyebrows raised, Sir Guy’s mouth curled into a delighted smirk. “Just for me?”
“You betcha.”
Sir Guy swiftly came to her side and pressed a hearty kiss to her forehead. Ladywriter released an inner “squee.”
“I’ll wager HE didn’t get a cake . . .” And with a triumphant grin, Sir Guy strutted out, ready to enjoy a large slice of cake with a milk chaser.
Ladywriter smiled to herself. “Only for you, Sir Guy, only for you . . . my first Armitage hero.” She sighed. “And you’ll always be my first ChaRActer love.”
Today it’s Thorin Thursday and we have a guest post by one of our regular blog commenters from Down Under (who is also a new blogger and new RA fan, courtesy of one gorgeous dwarf we all know and love) . . . I love her enthusiasm for our dear Richard and his characters.
Hello!
I suppose I should start by introducing myself. I’m Bec Hepworth – many of you may know me as Bechep from blogs or @lady0akenshield on Twitter. Angie has kindly (and bravely) asked me to do a bit of a guest post on her wonderful blog for Thorin Thursday. Just so we are clear, I love Thorin Oakenshield. I’m talking totally and, to use a Richard-ism, pants-droppingly obsessed *ahem* by Thorin Oakenshield. I’m a little nervous and oh so slightly excited to talk about my favourite subject – I may begin to waffle, please just bear with me!
When Angie approached me here was the outline: “How I Fell Hard for a Hot, Hairy Dwarf & Never Looked Back”
After a little giggle, I decided that I would break down that statement into three parts.
So, get yourself a mug of mead/tea/coffee/wine/ other refreshment and let us begin…
Part 1: How I Fell Hard
It was in fact, to coin a phrase, An Unexpected Journey. There I was, just cruising along with my little life- young children, husband, part-time job as a primary school teacher, family, friends, mortgage-you get the idea, nothing really taking up too much time or brain space and nothing out of the ordinary going on.
I went to the cinema on Boxing Day to see The Hobbit on its opening night (it opens later in Australia – I don’t know why and don’t get me started…) I’m an avid Tolkien fan and was very excited to see the movie having thoroughly enjoyed the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I was lining up ready to go in. I looked up and saw this giant poster :
and there…in the middle…Thorin Oakenshield. I remember thinking “Oooh he’s very nice” and continued to stare at it until we went in. I won’t bore you with my various reactions to the movie – oh, that glorious moment he arrives at Bag End… *stares off into the distance…*
Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. So we will Skip forward roughly three hours…
I floated out of the cinema in a complete and utter state of euphoria. I was totally and utterly smitten. I rushed home to get on the internet and find out who this amazing, delicious, gorgeous actor was. (sorry people who came to the movie with me, no coffee and Christmas Day left over goodies for you! Safe trip home, there’s the door.)
The next few days – which turned into weeks were spent finding out all I could about Richard Armitage.
The Armitage Effect was one of the first places I found when I Googled his name. I loved that I could find like-minded people talking about and worshipping this incredible actor. When I finally plucked up the courage to leave a comment back on the 2nd January (Post: “We all need an Armitage Hero” – I still remember!) Angie and the other fans were very welcoming and it was so great to actually communicate with other people about my new passion and not feel silly or judged.
Pause with me a moment, won’t you? as we just gaze at the majesty.
So I ordered all three series of Robin Hood. And began having Sir Guy marathons of 3-4 episodes a night (oh, to have all-night marathons with Sir Guy…whoops did I just say that out loud!?). I believe my Long Suffering Husband ‘s comment was “all this because you saw The Hobbit?” Yes my dear, seeing The Hobbit is PRECISELY why all this!
Even grumpy, the dwarf is a dream!
And so it began. Since I plucked up the courage to write that first little comment, I have experienced all sorts of incredible and wonderful things: meeting amazing, funny, very special people, Reading Blogs, Writing a Blog ( a very insignificant and amateur one over on Word Press), Twitter, You Tube clips, Fan Fiction, Watching all the Richard Armitage TV shows I can get my hands on (Oh Lucas, you are so dreamy…), buying Thorin-related products (I did draw the line at Thorin Oakenshield underpants but for a moment there, dear readers, I did consider it), getting pictures on my phone so I could have sneaky peeks at work, learning new verbs like Richarding and Thorinized (one of yours, Angie, I believe?), the list goes on.
I could go into detail about all these experiences but I can see Angie nervously checking her watch – I suspect she thinks I may be one of those visitors who, once arrived, digs their heels in, spreads their belongings around the place and doesn’t show any signs of leaving, so I shall stop here momentarily.
Lets all collect ourselves, stand up, stretch and leave it there for now. I think we could all do with a little break before embarking on the Hot and Hairy part of this post.
See you back here next Thorin Thursday as we delight in his lusciousness and majestic-ness (yes it’s a word). Farewell dear readers until next week…
Oh, and here’s another pretty picture. Just to keep you going until then.
Our smouldering sex god is a wee bit vain (but at least he has something to be vain about). There’s the hair, artfully arranged (with Ye Olde Medieval Haire Gelle?),fetching curls at the nape, those striking sideburns accentuating the elegant, masculine planes of his face. Later, of course, we get the Amazing Mane, artfully tossed about to great effect like the proud stallion that he is. And let’s not forget the Guyliner. Nobody rocks the Medieval Smoky-Eyed Gaze like our Sir Guy. And that stubble . . . . uhmmmmmm. Or clean-shaven for those special occasions.
He knows he looks damn good in those sleek, buttery soft black leathers, accentuating his lean, muscular physique. Nothing like watching that long, slinky stride through the corridors of Nottingham Castle, is there? Or study him lounging purposefully, strong arms folded across that broad, tempting chest, a knowing smirk or look of ill-concealed boredom or disdain on his handsome face . . . always keep your eye on the hot, sleek, sexy henchman. It’s worth it on so very many levels. Trust me . . .
The flowing locks, at first dirty and tangled, later lustrous and princely. The Milanese-Japanese warrior threads. The floppy black pirate shirt and those jangling spurs. The really big, gleaming sword.
And the attitude.
Boozy, wild-eyed, vengeful, self-loathing. Proud, preening, smug and simply gorgeous. Defeated and yet not down and out. Introspective. Remorseful. Chivalrous. Fearful. Courageous. Free . . . what an amazing journey of discovery Richard Armitage takes us on with Sir Guy in the final season of Robin Hood. Guy of Gisborne, you ROCK!
Poor Guy can’t get any rest with Kate’s incessant squawking. And I am having no luck with the nap idea so far. Might as well send a little more Guy–the lighter side– your way this Guyday Friday. Enjoy! I’m gonna veg.
I don’t think he’d ever be unemployed in that line of work, do you?
Of course we know you were first, Sir Guy. Nobody can out-glam you, our dear Dark Knight.
Oh, come on, when he’s looking at you like that, what else can he expect??
Her time at the castle could have been so much more enjoyable.
The world-weary Hot Velveteen Henchman has seen it all.
Angry!
Thoughtful . . . with a hint of smoulder.
Alpha male intensity–verging on a smirk . . .
Crinkles and concern. So irresistible.
Hopeful . . . questioning. *sigh*
Suspicious . . . yet ridiculously hot.
The smouldering smirk in the making.
If only she’d had the Good Taste Gene. Or better sight and hearing. Or been smarter. Oh, if only.
Marian, you’d have been his queen. Cherished, adored and very, very loved-up. If you know what I mean . . . so stop trying to kick his arse and start–appreciating it. If you know what I mean . . .
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