#and be careful when deboning

[smallfrogpleasedtomeetyou]

All the fish in the httyd franchise is horribly undercooked y’all u cant just eat an entire raw fish what the fuck

[mephilver]

cosmo and wanda i wish everybody who ever so much as looked in the kitchen while i was in there died

[bovineblogger]

Just wanted to pitch my two cents in response to the previous anon! Hi friend, I know for a lot of us who get our food shrink wrapped and packaged at the grocery store it’s mind boggling to even imagine there’s a healthy way of animal husbandry.

I grew up in The Big City™️ but was raised by my grandparents. They grew up farming (just crops, their families were too poor to own livestock or purchase meat/milk/eggs) and taught me to have an incredible respect for where food comes from. We grew our own crops in the tiny backyard, composted, and did aquaculture even before I knew what it was. We bought our smaller meat from the local butcher minimally processed. You had to debone and process the whole chicken, fish, rabbit, frogs, etc. Grandpa traded his veggies for different fruits with the other oldies. Grandma made her own wine and yogurt. And I’ve worked and volunteered at animal shelters and wildlife rescue/rehab centers growing up. I still compost nearly all of my food waste. Even then, I didn’t truly understand the extent to which a properly cared for animal farm could be healthy and ethical.

Until I met one of my previous partners that is. They grew up in an incredibly rural area on a family farm that had animals, including a herd of cows for meat. They hunted, but always to protect the livestock and made use of the animals they killed/sold them to others in town who would. It seemed so counterintuitive to my sensibilities and raised my hackles at first. How could you say you love animals and do that? But I began asking questions…for hours and hours because it was nothing I’d been exposed to.

The way they and their family cared for/revered their animals seemed almost religious to me when I first encountered it. From the time they were kids, it was always the animals’ chores first. You woke up but fed and milked the cows before you made yourself breakfast. They made blankets for the animals and read to them. You gave the herd everything they needed and then some. If something in the barn needed fixing, that would happen first before new windows for the house. The animals had their own things and toys and treats. It was love! There were never cattle prods or whips or any of the machinery you associate with industrial farming. The animals would greet them happily every morning. They loved and trusted their people back enough to be naughty a way a pampered cat is. It really sunk in when I stood next to a cow for the first time — there’s nothing that would stop that animal from harming you, especially if you were a kid, unless it respected you and loved you back.

(They once told me the story of how some large predator like a bear or wolf tried to sneak into the pasture at night. The family woke up there next morning to a furry pancake that had been utterly stomped into the ground by the herd.)

A whole lifetime later, they can still remember the names, personalities, and stories of all the animals they raised. I would get bored and try to list off random names as a game to see if they ever had an animal called that, actually. But the thing that initially shocked (and stuck with me the most) was that when they’d take an older cow to the butcher, they would get packages of meat back labeled with that animal’s name. But it wasn’t ever scary or traumatizing for the kids. They always knew where food was from. Sometimes they were even there helping when that animal was born in the barn. What that did was give them an incredible sense of care, respect, and duty for those animals. When they had dinner that night, they would say grace and mean it in a way you only could if you viewed that animal as an equal family member. I was raised religious, but had never heard grace said like that, with that amount of genuine intent until I ate dinner with them. It used to be just something I did, just going through the motions.

That being said, yes it would probably be the most bio energy efficient/less emissions heavy if the whole world shifted away from a meat-based diet. But ideal isn’t always realistic/something we can achieve overnight. Meat alternatives are often expensive or time consuming to prepare (like beans/legumes). The way I see it, this blog is part of a harm reduction approach in facilitating an appreciation/love/education for livestock and then encouraging people to seek out more mindful sources of meat, like some local farms. We’ve seen time and time again, shame/blame are far less effective in getting people to re-examine their worldviews than education and love.

thank you so much for this ask, this is so so so so so lovely!!! i feel like a lot of people that arent farmers or dont have farmers in their family dont really understand just how much love is there.

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 2: CHARLES SMITH, THE MAN THAT YOU ARE 

synopsis: charles makes sure you're getting on okay as you continue to try to evade arthur (poorly, might i add).

word count: 3k

ships: Arthur Morgan/Modern!Reader, Van der Linde Gang & Reader

notes: i almost leaked this to my classmate when sending her a link. nearly shat myself but we're all good this is all still under wraps

TOSoA taglist: @one-green-frog (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask <3!!)

THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA MASTERLIST

Charles was right. Even though you want to help, there’s really nothing to do besides hunt – and the good Lord knows you’re useless when it comes to that.

For the last day or so, you’ve just been hanging around the garage-made-kitchen. Even though Javier told you you weren’t intruding (and that “everyone needs shelter”), you feel like you are. It’s not a good feeling. So you stayed outside, in the company of a man who introduced himself as Simon Pearson and the camp cook, Charles, and occasionally Javier when he found the time to swing by. 

A fair few people have introduced themselves as well – Hosea Matthews, Bill Williamson, Lenny Summers, Reverend Orville Swanson, Leopold Strauss (who just oozed sleaze), Miss Karen Jones, Miss Tilly Jackson, Miss Mary-Beth Gaskill, and little Jack alongside his mother, Miss Abigail Roberts. Those who didn’t directly introduce themselves to you were pointed out by Karen and you were given a run-down on them.

So far, these are the people as you know them: Missus Sadie Adler is a grieving, skittish widow. Uncle is a lazy sack of shit. John Marston is better at being wolf food than being a father. Miss Susan Grimshaw is stubborn (but caring – somewhat like how neighborhood mamas care). Miss Molly O’Shea has a stick so far up her ass she spits splinters when she talks. The man tied up in the barn, Kieran Duffy, is an O’Driscoll (or ex-O’Driscoll, if what he insists is true is really true). Oh – and the blond man that punched Bill? That’s Micah Bell: a man with the eye of a viper tasting the air and the nose of a shark waiting for blood in the water. From what you’ve deduced, his general vibe is “I would take sexual relationship advice from Bill Cosby if given the chance.”

All in all, a healthily diverse group of people – even if the traits that make them diverse aren’t all that desirable. (Mostly Micah’s. Especially Micah’s.)

But Charles is nice enough. So you’ve stuck with Charles. Even if you need to hang around Pearson to hang out with him. Pearson isn’t an intrinsically bad guy, just… a little off-putting.

Right now, you’re able to put your hands to use by opening canned vegetables and putting them in the cauldron-looking pot Pearson has for rabbit stew. Across the table, Charles is butchering and deboning a rabbit as best he can with his injured hand. You try your best to keep your eyes on the cans of carrots and celery you’re opening. 

There’s footsteps. You glance up. It’s Arthur. You look back down. 

“I can’t believe it’s come to this,” Pearson gripes to no one in particular. 

You watch Arthur approach the fire and he holds his hands out towards the coals in your peripheral vision. He shakes his head. “Ah, we’re okay.”

“We have a few cans of food and a rabbit. For, what – ten, twelve people?” Pearson gestures over to where you and Charles are working. “Even more with them and that widow.”

Despite yourself, you can feel the tips of your ears start to burn. What do you have to be embarrassed about? Needing to eat? If anything, Pearson should be the one feeling embarrassed for talking about you in front of you. Yeah… that’s it. 

Pearson continues. “When I was in the Navy…”

Arthur immediately interrupts him. “I – I do not wish to hear about what you got up to in the Navy, Mister Pearson.”

And yet, he keeps going despite Arthur’s protest. “We were stranded at sea… for fifty days.”

“And you, unfortunately, survived,” Arthur drawls. 

You glance up at him from underneath your eyelashes and smile. His eye catches yours, and your gaze drops, as does your smile. Instead, you work on getting your finger under the tab of a can of chopped onions – which is hard, considering the thickness of your gloves.

You feel Arthur’s eyes leave you and let out a soft sigh of relief that clouds in front of your face. Charles holds out his knife to you. You tip the top of the can towards him, and he wedges the (bloody – ew) blade of his knife underneath the tab and opens it. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. You clench your jaw when you feel Arthur’s eyes on you again – yes, very briefly, but still. You can count the number of times you’ve made eye contact with him on one hand, and you don’t want to add to that total. 

Thankfully, Pearson seems ignorant to your plight and continues complaining. “When we ran away from Blackwater, I wasn’t able to get supplies in!”

“Well, when government agents are hunting you down, sometimes shopping trips need to be cut short,” Arthur snaps. “We’ll survive. We always have. And if needs be, we can eat you – you’re the fattest.”

You bite your lip to suppress a laugh and clear your throat to mask any noise you might’ve made. You pour the onions in the pot and glance at the rabbit carcass, now carved up and stripped of meat.

“Damn, there’s nothing left on that thing,” you say. “You’re good at that.”

Charles nods in response. “If you’re done, you can put it on the fire.”

You lift the pot with a grunt – it’s heavier than you expected, but nothing you can’t handle. You move over to the coals and hang the pot on a hook over the fire while Pearson and Arthur continue talking. 

“I sent Lenny and Bill hunting, and they found nothing,” Pearson says. 

“Well, Lenny’s more into book learnin’ than huntin’,” Arthur says. You perk up at that. “Bill’s a fool. Unless those mountains are full of game that wanna read, ain’t no wonder they haven’t found –”

“Enough of this,” Charles interrupts. Even though his voice is relatively quiet and deep, it still cuts through whatever Arthur was planning on prattling on about. “We’ll go find something. Come on, Arthur.”

“Well, take them.” Arthur gestures vaguely in your direction. “Since they seem so keen on helpin’ out, and all.”

“I, um…” You shake your head. “No, thanks.”

“They don’t even know how to hold a rifle correctly,” Charles says. (His bluntness stings a little, but it’s true. You know how to hold a handgun, but not these old-timey types.) “If they knew how to hunt, we would’ve gone already.”

Arthur sighs and shrugs. “If you insist.”

“Wait a second, hold on.” Pearson hurries over to the table you and Charles had been working at earlier. He pulls out a can from the small pile you had organized and tosses it to Arthur. “You’re gonna need something to eat out there.”

“Hm… “assorted, salted offal”,” Arthur reads off the label. He levels Pearson with a dead stare. “Starving would be preferable.”

You stifle a laugh and, again, clear your throat.

“Come on, let’s go,” Charles says, adjusting the bandage on his hand. 

“You can’t go huntin’,” Arthur says. “Look at your hand.”

“I can’t stay here listening to you two,” Charles says. He gestures to you without looking at you. “The conversation they make is tolerable, but, again, they can’t hunt. Look, if there’s game in those hills, I’ll find it – and you can kill it.”

“You need to rest, Charles,” Arthur insists.

“You think this is rest?” Charles’ face twists into a scowl, then he turns and walks towards his horse with a “Come along.”

Arthur scoffs under his breath and his eyes flick to you. You do your best to suppress the temptation to duck away from his gaze, as piercing as it is. You win, and he looks away, following Charles to the hitching post. They quickly mount up and ride out.

You draw your shoulders up to your ears and shudder. When Pearson shoots you a questioning glance, you excuse it with “What? It’s cold.”

When a few seconds have passed, you roll your shoulders back. You settle down on the chair that’s inside the kitchen, just watching a few late, fat snowflakes fall outside.

After a good ten minutes of watching Pearson and playing with your hands, you figure he’ll be fine on his own and wander out along the footpaths in the snow. You find who you’re looking for quickly. 

Lenny gives you a polite nod as you stand across from him, the fire on the ground separating you two. He has a rifle – the sight of which doesn’t surprise you as much as it first did – and he settles the butt of the gun in the inner corner of his elbow. 

“You’re Lenny, right?” You try. 

“Yeah. And you’re…” Lenny gives your name. You nod in response.

“I just…” You clear your throat and bat away the embarrassment and anxiety that’s creeping up on you – something that always comes with approaching strangers. “Arthur mentioned that you like books. I, uh… I read, too. Sometimes.”

“Really?” Lenny says. “What kinda books have they got out in the Mojave?”

You look down at the fire and think, trying to come up with some excuse and build your backstory. “We don’t have a lot of books – I live in a pretty isolated part of the desert. But there’s traders, and they bring medical books, and a few storybooks. I like the medicine books they bring. You?”

Lenny seems to hesitate for a moment. “Poetry.”

“Poetry?” You hum. “Huh. Poems are nice.”

There’s a lapse in conversation. You don’t know how to fill it. You say the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Micah’s kinda a prick, right?” You blurt out. 

Your eyes snap up to Lenny’s face. He’s surprised, but his face quickly melts into a smile and he laughs. You feel the coil of anxiety in your stomach loosen. 

“Why, I didn’t expect you to come out and say it,” he says. “But your assessment is correct.”

“Yeah, sorry.” You laugh nervously, your eyes falling to the fire again. “I just get bad vibes from the guy.”

“Bad vibes?” Lenny echoes. 

The coil is tight again. You think for a moment. “Uh, yeah. One of the tribes I live with believes in, um… vibrational energy, that kinda thing. When you look at someone and you get a bad feeling without knowing them that well, they give you bad vibes.”

“Hold on,” Lenny says. “Vibrational energy?”

You nod and continue to pull things out of your ass and curse Lenny for being scholarly. “Yeah. Life… um, well. I don’t remember the explanation too well. But I remember White Bird – the Sorrows’ shaman – saying…”

You tilt your head and look to the side and think for a moment.  “He said, “All life is music – all music is rhythmic – all rhythm is life.” And that somehow relates to vibrations. I don’t know, you seem smart. Maybe you can understand what he was talking about.”

“Well, I don’t know what it means, but it sure sounds pretty,” Lenny says. 

“They’re good people,” you say. “Maybe you’d like to meet them someday – if you’re ever so far west you’re in the desert, I mean.”

Why the fuck did I say that?! You curse yourself in your head. They’re not real! The Dead Horses and the Sorrows and Joshua Graham and Daniel are all made up! They’re fictional characters –

“I don’t know, maybe,” Lenny says. “For now, it doesn’t seem like we’ll be goin’ that far.”

You hum and pretend to act disappointed while you fight the urge to crumple in on yourself in relief. “That’s a shame. I’m sure you’d like them. They’re interesting people, especially the Sorrows. Though, Joshua…”

You trail off as you check over your shoulder. Hoofbeats, you’re pretty sure. And you’re right – Arthur and Charles are riding back into camp, a dead, snow-dappled doe on the back of each horse.

“Brought some food back, boys,” Arthur calls.

They both hitch their horses at the post and hoist the limp does onto their shoulders, carrying them over to the kitchen. 

You look back at Lenny and jab a thumb over your shoulder at them. “Should we…?”

“I don’t think so,” Lenny says. “From what I seen, Arthur’s a butcher – a mean one, at that. I don’t think he’ll like it if his work’s disturbed.”

“That’s fair,” you hum. (Secretly, you want to thank Lenny profusely. You already know that Arthur’s a mean man – you don’t want to see him even meaner.)

You check over your shoulder again. From where you’re standing, you can see an old man has taken your seat in the kitchen, and you can hear Arthur giving him hell for whatever reason. What was his name again… Uncle, maybe?

Unfortunately, your staring caught Uncle’s eye. He beckons you over with a wave of his hand. You give Lenny a quiet, polite “See you later,” and head over, trudging through the thick layer of snow that’s settled on the ground.

“Yeah?” You nod at Uncle as soon as you step into the kitchen. You sidle up to the fire, warming yourself with the smoldering embers. 

“Thought it’d do Arthur some good to see the…” – Uncle waves you up-and-down – “…wonders some modernity will do you.”

“What? Modernity?” You repeat back. You tell yourself to calm down – you haven’t been found out. (Not yet.) “I’m far from modern.”

“Why, you’re perfectly modern!” Uncle says. 

“You don’t even know me.” You scoff and turn away. 

Your eyes catch Arthur wrapping wire around the back ankles of one of the doe corpses. He pulls it taut, then hooks both legs to the deer hoist. He lifts it with a grunt and puts the hoist on the hook sticking out of the wall. You avert your eyes before he turns around. 

“Well, I mean…” You shrug. “I guess I’m… sort of modern? But I don’t see any issue with what Arthur’s doing. He’s just hunting.”

Arthur’s eyes fly to you again when you say his name. You wish that the Spanish Flu had come sooner so you could wear a facemask to hide your pursed lips and clenched jaw. After a moment, he looks away.

“What a surprise,” Arthur drawls, “to find the camp rat loiterin’ around in the kitchen, chargin’ dimes for his thoughts.”

He pulls away from the deer hoist and walks over to the fire. He keeps a healthy distance, but you can still feel some sort of heat coming from him when he stands next to you. You guess a man that tall and broad would be a furnace in cold like this. 

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Uncle asks. “I feel we haven’t spoken for days.”

“I do my utmost to avoid you,” Arthur retorts.

Charles approaches the fire, standing on your other side. He gives you a small look that says “Ignore them. They can, and will, go on for hours like this.”

Uncle looks over at you and laughs. “He loves me, really. It’s his… sad way of showing affection.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, it isn’t.”

You and Arthur turn to look at each other. You hadn’t meant to speak over him, and from the kind of-surprised look he’s sending your way, you think he didn’t mean to speak over you, either. You nod, gesturing for him to continue.

“It isn’t.” He turns back to face Uncle and waves a hand. “Now shoot, get lost.”

“Well…” Uncle shrugs and stands. “See y’all later.”

Pearson swipes a bottle from Uncle as he steps out. He then looks over at one of the deer. “See you got on just fine.”

Arthur nods toward Charles’ direction. “Charles is a wonder.”

“Have a drink, my friends.” Pearson holds out the bottle across the fire. “Ya earned it.”

Arthur takes the bottle after you wave it away. He takes a swig and sputters, coughing. “Jesus!” His voice cracks. “What is that?”

He passes the bottle to Charles, who sniffs the rim and takes a tentative sip. 

“Navy rum, sir. It’s the only thing – the only thing!” Pearson laughs as Charles hands the bottle back. “Keeps you sane, it does.”

“Yes, seems to have done a treat on you.” Arthur glances at Charles and waves a hand in his general direction. “You go rest that hand, Charles.”

“I’ll be fine in a few days,” Charles says. 

He makes eye contact with you and nods towards the cabins, indicating for you to follow. You do so while listening to Arthur and Pearson talk about skinning the deer. (And you hide a smile when Arthur asks Pearson if he gets to skin him, too. He’s mean, but at least he’s funny with it.)

“You settling in okay?” Charles asks when you’re in a somewhat secluded area. It’s not all that isolated, but it’s out of earshot for most people.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Thanks. For… y’know. Not being a massive asshole about everything.”

“You’re lost,” he says. (You notice he leaves out the very obvious “and scared” he could’ve tacked on the end.) “And you need help. It would be cruel not to give it to you.”

Yeah, totally! You think to yourself. You’re literally one of the kindest people alive and I’m… what? A scumbag that’s taking advantage of you? Oh, it’s so sweet that you’re ignoring the blatant lies I’m throwing in your face! Thank you, Charles! Thanks a fucking million.

“Still. Thank you,” you say instead. “You could’ve easily kicked me out in the snow and left me to freeze.” 

“We could’ve.” Charles looks out at the horizon. The way he pauses almost makes you think he’s considering it. “But we didn’t.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. You didn’t.”

Apparently, he doesn’t feel the need to reassure you or continue the conversation at all. After a few moments, you awkwardly hook your thumb over your shoulder.

“I’m gonna, uh…” You nod. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later?”

Charles is still looking out at the treeline, looking at the way the snow weighs down the leafless trees and the way even the smallest sound could disrupt everything. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 4

Damian's face twisted in disgust at the offending object.

Phantom's quirked in confusion. He nudged the massive striped bass towards the smaller siren. "What's wrong?"

"I am a vegetarian." Damian huffed. "And it's raw."

"Oh. Uh, whoops." Phantom shrugged. "I don't know how to break it to you, dude, but, like... There's not much better to eat out there."

Damian glared at him. "I would rather starve."

Perhaps he was being too stubborn. With a buffoon of a companion such as this, the situation was better treated as a survival scenario than a mere mission. Damian was no fool. Vegetarianism was a luxury afforded to those with the food abundance to choose.

That, and it had been a solid sixteen hours since his last meal. His tail felt sore and aching in a way he hadn't felt in years. His stomach growled and groaned, demanding something to fill it.

The last time he felt a hunger like this was when he was still in the League, when they sent him out on weeks long missions where he starved under moonlight and ate birds and rats to survive.

"Come on, Damian, you need to eat something." Phantom cajoled, as if his puppy-eyed look could ever match that of Richard's. "And the seaweed's not gonna sustain you. Believe me I tried."

"Are sirens obligate carnivores?"

"No, but-"

"Then tell me why I cannot sustain myself off of kelp and seaweed?"

"Dude, those things have literally no calories in them."

A valid point, but just because he was right did not mean Damian had to cede the point so easily. "Is the siren species so primitive as to not have cultivated plants in order to sustain their population?"

"I literally don't know how to answer that dude. Do I look like an ambassador or something to you?"

Damian frowned.

"Look, it's getting late and we'll need all the rest we can get. I promise it doesn't taste that bad. We'll try and work something out tomorrow, how's that?"

Damian sighed. "Very well, but only because I very my life, thank you very much."

"Thank god for that..."

Damian unwrapped himself from his tail, and approached the poor fish. "I am terribly sorry, fish. I will not let your sacrifice be in vain." He muttered.

He looked up to find Phantom with a small knife, cutting up the fish into messy fillets, like this was the first time he'd done so. Peculiar. Surely he had lived off fish his entire life, and had deboned many before this moment.

"Just so you don't get poked in the mouth by a bone or two. Those things suck."

Phantom offered a strip of meat. Shutting his eyes, Damian took the food, and shoved it into his mouth, chewing minimally before swallowing.

The taste was... acceptable.

More than acceptable. perhaps.

It would be a shame to let the fish's death go to waste.

...

Damian sank his teeth into the side of the fish, eyes almost rolling into the back of his head from the taste.

Some time later...

Danny floats back into the cave, a handful of kelp bundled up in his arms. "Hey Damian, look I know this situation sucks for you, like in every way, so I went out and got some greens for you, just so it's not all meat and- Wait, Damian?"

The boy in question slept fastly, his fins gently drifting back in forth in the small currents caused by Danny's entrance. His head was slumped against the bass he'd brought in earlier, little strips of fish still stuck in his teeth.

Now that he wasn't making faces and being angry at Danny, he was honestly pretty cute.

Danny wiped some of the bits of meat off Damian's cheek, careful not to scratch his soft scales with a misplaced claw. Despite being so small, Damian managed to chew through a sizable portion of the fish that was easily half his size or more.

Setting the child's body to the side, and draping a small blanket over him, Danny set to finishing off the rest.

He hoped everyone back home wouldn't worry too much. If the GiW boats didn't clear out by tomorrow, then they were in for a big problem. He and Tucker were working on making waterproof earpieces, but they weren't ready yet, and his waterproof phone had been left in his room when he'd rushed out to get Damian back. That meant no communication with Amity Island whatsoever. No way to get in contact with Bruce Wayne, and no way for his friends to know he and Damian were ok.

He was really in over his head, wasn't he?

The morning came with a very loud wake up call.

"YO BABYPOP!"

Danny jolted awake and bumped his head into the nearest desk overhead. "Who's attacking us?!"

Beside him, Damian jerked himself into a defensive stance (or as close to one as he could manage.)

The curtains of the cave were pushed open, allowing streams of sunlight to stream in and blind the boy with its glare. Peeking into the cave was the head of one Ember McClain, a vicious grin plastering her face.

"You never told me you got a kid!"

Damian chirped indignantly.

Danny sputtered. "Whawhwh Wh Wait a second!"

Ember pulled out of the cave, and squealed. "Yo Kitty! Dipstick's got himself a kid!"

A woosh of water rushed past, and Kitty's neon green and teal scales showed themselves. "Omg! Phantom aren't you like fifteen? What the heck?!"

Danny blushed deeply teal. "He's not mine I swear!"

Ember pushed Kitty out of the way. "Oh my gosh he's so tiny. Who's the lucky woman?? Or man??? Phantom what have you been getting up to without us?!"

Damian hissed at him from behind Danny's shoulder (when did he get there?) "Begone, harpies! And cease your accusations! I would sooner perish than be related in any way to this incompetent fool."

Ember trilled in adoration. "He's so freaking adorable. Where did you get him, Babypop? An orphanage??"

Danny would've done a spittake, if he was above water. "W-what?! Dude, literally where would even find an orphanage around here?"

"Did his parents dump you on him like Johnny was?"

"Uh I'm not even gonna question that."

Ember clasped her hands to her mouth in scandalous shock. "No way, did you finally turn to the dark side and kidnap him?"

Damian piped up again, gripping on Danny's shoulders with his unsheathed claws and rising higher. "Nonsense, I claim no familial relationship with this person, not by blood, law, or emotion. He is as close to me as any stranger would."

"Ouch Damian. I literally saved your life."

Ember and Kitty chortled and shorted. They clutched their bellies and lead against the walls of the cave. "It's just... PFPFTT Phantom you total scoundrel, ahah!"

"Yeah yeah, look I gotta get this kid back to his dad on Amity, and quick. He's probably losing his mind over there."

Kitty gasped. "So you did turn him."

Danny shushed them. "Don't scream it out for the whole ocean to hear!"

He rushed out the entrance of the cave and shooed them in, covering the doorway up as they entered.

"Look I'd really, really rather you guys keep this on the down low. This is kind of a huge deal right now." Danny said.

He turned to Damian, still perched on his shoulder, his little tail brushing against Danny's ghostly white sail. "Is it ok if I tell them?"

"if it will convince them to vacate the premises."

"If you have to know, Damian's the son of some ultra rich guy. Skulker got him for whatever reason, and I was forced to turn him."

"Dude, Skulker went for a literal child?!" Ember clenched her first, likely hiding her extending claws. Right, Skulker was a bit of a touchy subject for her. "Of his own kind, no less?!"

"That's fucking low, girl."

"And now the GiW are going crazy too. Probalby got a huge donation or whatever. We're just waiting untli they go away so I can get Damian back to his dad, without any dissections. That also means none of you guys should be going near the place either."

"Pfft, too late for that."

Danny froze. "Who did they get?"

"Relaaxx, Dipstick. I was just preparing another concert, only for like fifty boats to show up out of fuckin' nowhere. Luckily I heard them before they saw me, but come on! I was miles from Amity at that point!"

"Miles?" Damian whispered.

Danny felt the same way too. They were only increasing their patrols now, shit.

"It's bad enough that the rest of the Pod are freaking migrating. We haven't migrated in years!"

"Yeah, actually, Phantom you wanna join us? I know you have this whole, err, thing, with Amity Island, but we hardly see you. And Johnny's been itching for a rematch."

Danny looked over his shoulder, to where Damian was lost in thought. This might have been the first them he'd seen the kid not glaring.

"Thanks for the offer, but I need to get Damian home. It's my fault he's like this, and he's got a whole family out there waiting for him."

"Don't you too?"

Danny swallowed a thick of water. He did have a family, a family that was probably going crazy. But at least part of that family, and his friends, knew he could take care of himself, knew that he was a siren, knew that the water was his element. Damian's family didn't have that luxury.

"We'll figure it out."

The girls shared a look, and shrugged. "The offer still stands, Babypop. Oh, and i'll be sure to fuckin' dice Skulker next time i see him, lying, cheatin' bastard.

For a moment, the boys watched the two siren teens' trailing tails, before they turned a corner and disappeared.

"Gotham."

"What was that?" Danny asked.

"If Amity Island is inaccessible to us, then we have to go to Gotham."

"Isn't Gotham-"

"On the East Coast? Yes, it is. It's our only option."

"That's thousands of miles, and you can't even walk!"

"Would you rather we stay here, waiting for the GiW to approach us and kill us both?"

Danny clenched his jaw. Damian was right, wasn't he.

"The only way to reunite me with Father is to go to Gotham. They will not be expecting us there."

"How can you be so sure?"

Damian dislodged himself from Danny's shoulder and floated in front of him. "Because they are unaware of the sirens' power of transformation, am I correct?"

"Good point, but wait, how did you know that?"

"I did some cursory research before coming here. The prevailing theories put forth by the supposed 'experts' on the matter asserted that sirens eat their human victims, with no mentions of turning. They have no reason to believe I am not dead., and no reason to suspect any siren activity in Gotham."

"And you're ok with that. Thousands of miles of swimming in the endless ocean full of things wanting to eat you?"

"Are you not?"

"Ok ok, calm down." Danny had to chuckle though. Rich as this kid may be, he was definitely not spoilt enough to sit still and wait for his dad to save him.

"And the fastest way to get to Gotham is via the Panama Canal." Damian puffed his chest out in what was probably pride. Danny stared at him, dumbfounded.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Have I ever jested to you before?"

"No seriously. The Panama Canal. You realise that place is monitored up and down, right? Literally the moment we get spotted, the locks are gonna, you know, lock down, and then we'll be stranded and sitting ducks to be chopped up by the GiW."

"That will not be an issue. You possess the power of camouflage, do you not? And again, they will not be expecting us in Panama, so they will have no reason to bring any sonars there."

Danny wanted to bang his head against the wall. This idea sounded so stupid, but not stupid enough that it was unfeasable.

"In addition, you said it yourself. Your negligence resulted in my permanent loss of humanity, so it is your responsibility to do whatever you can do right your wrong."

Shit. Came with being the son of a businessman, didn't it? This kid was guilttripping the hell out of him and Danny could honestly not say he didn't deserve it.

"Fiiiine. We're going to Panama."

"Excellent." Damian grinned. "Let us leave immediately."

Danny could only pray that none of the 50 things that could go wrong, did go wrong, but when was his luck ever that good?

No, instead, Danny strapped in whatever supplies he had laying around in the cave. To Panama we go...

[bloodsadx]

even the years that i retroactively have viewed as the most useless of my life have paid off. ive met and befriended many of my heroes from when i was down bad and doing nothing. however in spite of this any time im down im still like. well. i guess im going to jump into the fargo life size human mulcher and deboner (in order to become less full of blood). anyway every time im in an uber with my buddy anne she says the word transexual minimum like 6 times no matter what the vibe of the driver is and last night the uber driver told us to try the following pick up lines (which he called “jaw droppers”): when a girl asks your favorite food, say that “[you] don’t care about stuff like that, [you] want to get to know the flavor of [her] taste buds.” he insisted she’s never heard some shit like this before, so she’ll either like it and you’ll start making out, or if she’s “a more polite woman” she will be like ok ok, and at that point you say “i’m not trying to nourish your body, i’m trying to enrich your soul.” he said that you say that, this being the “jaw dropper,” and then you “can shove your tongue down her throat.” well me and my buddy anne were losing our minds in this uber. and then she started saying the word transsexual to refer to her previous partners and the guy became strictly quiet. well anyway. the moral of the post is, if you walk around a lot, you notice more stuff. i’ve been walking about 10-15 miles a day for the past few weeks and something i’ve been noticing a lot is one specific sticker around portland which ive seen i think sincerely about 300 different places in the past week. and i’ve been walking some really not well trodden, very annoying routes, and this guy has been putting stickers up in some really strange and not even particularly visible spots. and the thing is, i kind of don’t even like this guy’s sticker, but i do really like seeing it, so i really respect that guy. and last night i made direct eye contact with a guy as he put down a slice of pizza and took out a paint marker to write on a trash can. me personally if i made direct eye contact with someone as i was about to write on a trash can i would probably not do that.

i’ve been making draft posts like this when i get home from a long walk and then not posting them nearly explicitly because i don’t want a bunch of people to read them. sometimes i let one fly and it does get like a hundred notes and i just get pissed off. a few months ago i got so mad about something i kept hitting the ground with sticks as hard as possible and trying to suplex trees and victorian house porch support beams at my friends houses. not to test my strength but rather to feel completely indignantly impotent and to feel myself fail against the weight of the world. i got into a bad car crash and have been disallowed by the weight of the world from driving endlessly and aimlessly through the country and instead have endlessly and aimlessly wandered by foot through a place i have lived in for 3 years but only recently have come to feel like i have any knowledge of. so its hard to say which years are more useless. the years where i was doing stuff people gave a fuck about or the years where i was doing stuff that hurt my legs and feet and i saw more stuff? well at the end of the day i suppose nobody can say for sure…after all, on the internet, nobody knows i’m a seaman.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

You asked for prompts! How about Stede noticing Ed’s pearl necklace and maybe telling him how pretty he looks wearing it? Or maybe it breaks and Stede fixes it for him? Either way some excuse for Stede put it around Ed’s neck and kiss his neck or WANT to kiss his neck while he does it? Basically neck kisses or yearning please!

Yes! Yessss! Neck kisses >>>>

Send me a prompt and I'll write a 1k word fic!

--

“Oh, shit. Fuck. Shitdamn.”

Ed’s frustrated voice filtered in through the open kitchen window - that was what Stede was calling the hole in the kitchen wall they hadn’t gotten around to patching up yet - and Stede looked up from where he was trying to figure out how to debone a fish. Turned out the little fuckers had a lot of bones, and just all over the place, really.

“Ed? You alright?”

Beat.

“Uh, yeah, all good!”

Ed’s tone had been overly cheerful, in the exact way it always was when Stede knew all was most certainly not good. He’d definitely sounded upset, but he was usually pretty good at letting Stede know if he’d just accidentally hammered a finger or miscalculated something, so it had to be something more serious, then. Stede quickly washed his hands, deciding to leave the fish for later, and hurried outside to check on his boyfriend.

Ed had said he was going to be working on reinforcing the front steps, after Stede accidentally stuck his foot straight through the boards a few nights ago. What he was actually doing was sitting on the broken step, looking down at something in his hands, his shoulders very tense and his lips pursed like he was trying not to cry.

“Ed?” Stede slid down next to him on the step, and Ed quickly clenched his hand into a fist to hide what he’d been looking at. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Ed sighed, his voice small and creaky. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if you’re upset.”

His heart broke a little, as Ed’s lip wobbled, but he didn’t force it. If he was just quiet, and calm, and gave Ed time, then soon enough-

“I was taking my jacket off,” Ed started to explain, “and my necklace got caught on one of the buttons. I didn’t mean to pull it - I think I broke it.”

“Oh,” Stede said, quietly, and he held out his hand. “Can I take a look?”

Ed looked like he was halfway expecting Stede to yell at him, but he slowly let the necklace drop into Stede’s palm.

“These pearls are so lovely,” Stede said, trying to get the smile back on Ed’s face as he inspected the damage. It was a nice necklace, with a knot on either side of each pearl so they wouldn’t slide off the string even if it snapped, but Stede was relieved to see the clasp was just twisted open. Necklaces like this were delicate, so the damage looked worse than it actually was.

“They were lovely,” Ed corrected dully. “Until I ruined them. They were so nice, and now they’re fucked.”

“You didn’t ruin-”

“Probably for the best.” Ed rested his arms on his knees, hunching over to hide his face in his arms. “Needed to throw ‘em away anyway.”

Stede frowned. He reached out a gentle hand, hovering over Ed’s shoulder, and was relieved when Ed leaned sideways into his touch. “Why would you say that?”

Ed shrugged. “They were too nice for me. Was always gonna ruin them eventually.”

“Ed? Can you look at me?”

Stede waited until Ed raised his eyes, scrubbing at his cheeks with the back of his hand, and then he held up the necklace. “This is fixable. It’s a pretty easy fix, too! The clasp is just twisted.”

“Oh.”

“You haven’t ruined a thing,” Stede assured him. “I used to fix necklaces all the time - Mary never had the patience for it.”

Stede led Ed back inside, finding the smaller tools they kept in the kitchen and selecting a little pair of pliers. It would take a careful hand, to correct the bent metal without breaking or warping it further, and Stede wanted to do a perfect job.

“I haven’t had a necklace like that before,” Ed admitted quietly as he watched Stede work. “Too nice for me, like I said.”

Ed said it like he was trying to convince himself, and Stede scoffed.

“Ed, you put everyone else wearing a string of pearls to shame,” he promised. “You wear them well. They’re so pretty, and they look beautiful on you.”

He looked back in time to see Ed’s eyes flick shyly to the floor. “Thank you.”

Stede held the necklace up to the light, making sure the clasp looked perfect. “All done,” he declared, holding it out for Ed to see. “May I?”

“You may,” Ed said, aiming for a light, teasing tone, but too obviously flattered to really pull it off.

Stede stepped behind him, gently moving his hair out of the way, and Ed shivered at Stede’s fingers brushing over his bare neck.

“There we go.” Stede gently secured the necklace, and before straightening Ed’s hair back into place, he kissed the back of Ed’s neck. Ed hummed in delight, pressing back into his touches, and Stede pressed kiss after soft, loving kiss to the side of Ed’s neck, from his jaw down to his collarbone. “So pretty.”

Ed leaned back into Stede’s arms, sighing happily as Stede dropped a hand to his waist, holding him there. “Can you call me that again?”

“You’re so pretty, Ed,” Stede said, kissing the sensitive skin at the base of Ed’s neck, right where the string of pearls lay. “You deserve to wear whatever you want.”

“I thought you liked me best with nothing on at all,” Ed teased, pressing back into him.

Stede hooked his chin over Ed’s shoulder. “Well, the pearls are a close second.”

He hoped, someday, Ed would know that he could have the nice thing he’d always wanted but had been too scared to enjoy, and understand he wasn’t doomed to break them. He hoped Ed knew that Stede would support him, and help him find the fine things he wanted to wear, clothes and accessories that made him feel good and pretty and like himself.

But, for now, Ed had this lovely string of pearls, and it was a fine thing he knew he could keep.

[yandere-fics]

♡ Elisha Monster Fucking ♡

(Reader is a drider)

You always adored the idea of laying your eggs in a woman who could just kill you, though you had never gotten the chance to meet any adventurers who would even come close to being able to slay you so when THE ADVENTURER came through your forest, it really was a golden opportunity, one you were not going to pass up on, you were a bit disappointed she didn't struggle enough when you webbed her up but that was alright, you weren't planning on killing her anyways, you just wanted to know what it would be like to be with a human who was strong enough to slay you, to force that human to carry your eggs and then ultimately release them back out after they had suffered the ultimate humiliation of being your egg incubator. That was what it was supposed to be but this was already the fifth time this year she was returned to your web in the forest, ready for more eggs and you were starting to worry that she was actually into having your eggs for you which wasn't what you wanted though this had it's charm as well, as long as she understood she wouldn't be your one and only, after all she didn't appear even often enough and as a big drider you needed to release your eggs more often so after waiting a couple of days for her to show up at the day she normally appear, you instead scooped up another random human and decided they would have your eggs next, less satisfying that it would be to have them with someone who killed monsters like you for a living but, you could make due with what you had, or so you thought until you saw Elisha slash through your web, causing you and the person you were just about to mate with, to fall to the ground, killing them instantly.

"Should I cook them for you baby?" You gave a small nod, she'd clearly assumed you were just planning on eating them and you were a bit scared to get on her bad side and get slashed for cheating on her so you decided it was just best to go along with what she said for now and then just abandon the forest as soon as this mating season was through. "Sorry for being late baby, had a dragon to kill."

"I-it's alright, if you were any later I would have had to lay my eggs elsewhere." She froze for a moment before laughing like it was the funniest joke she'd heard in her entire life, her sword cutting into the corpses arm as she started to debone them for you.

"I'd have to kill them for convincing my baby to cheat on me." You looked away from her, too scared to see her glaring at the corpse, you honestly didn't really want that person to die, you just wanted to lay your eggs and let them roam free. You'd be much more careful, you definitely couldn't stay in the same forest anymore, Elisha couldn't find you again, you weren't sure if she'd let you live if she saw you with another human next time.

"Haha, yeah..." You scuttled over to her, picking her up to climb the trees with her to another web, you didn't really care about waiting for her to finish cooking, you just wanted to get the mating over with quickly so she could leave and then you could never see her again, never again would you sleep with a human who could kill you.

"By the way, I prepared a place for you to sleep within the temple, now we can see each other more often, and I can make sure no adventurer tries to slay my baby." You'd messed up big time.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

hi again I hope you can do a yandere mer parents wolverine and storm [ animated series ] x mer baby reader please.

Okay, I'll see what I can do! Thank you for being specific! Let's dive in-

• Storm and Wolverine as mer would be powerful. Dangerous. Cunning. They're smart, they know how to outwit humans, and they have avoided them for a very long time. Even in their secluded home, with their pod, they still want something... Well... SomeONE...

• Having Reader is a big event for them. They hatched/birthed a baby! And it's such a cute, tiny little thing! Both of them are cuddling with their guppy and keeping them tucked between the two of them when they sleep. They can't believe they made them... That they finally got to have their own little one...

• Storm as a parent is very motherly. She's loving, she's caring, and she adores Reader. If Reader wants a hug, she'll gladly give them as many as they want. If they want to play, she already has several toys picked out for Reader to play with. If they're scared of a tsunami or hurricane, she's soothing them, and keeping them close to her, hidden in their nest and kept safe with her...

• Wolverine as a parent is fatherly. He loves Reader, and shows it by what he does. Reader is hungry? He hunts a nice fish for them to eat, deboned and still warm. They're cold? He's either tucking them under his tail or putting Reader in his guppy pouch. They're afraid of something? He tells them he'll scare it away or eat it, so it won't bother them anymore. And he keeps his promises...

• Reader is likely a sweet, quiet mer baby. They don't get into mischief, but they sometimes explore when they're lonely. This has led to Storm or Wolverine following them, or simply tucking Reader in their guppy pouch and telling them they can explore a safer area, after a nice nap. Both of them worry over their guppy, but they know they can't hide them away forever. That doesn't mean they won't do so for the longest time, but their child needs to see the world around them, not just from the safety of the nest...

• If Reader gets hurt by an animal or is captured by humans, these two are on the hunt. They don't leave any stone left unturned, they don't give up, and the moment they find out what harmed their child, they're gutting them or sending lightning into them. They'll comfort Reader, hugging them close and kissing their head and cheeks, but their enemies are left a bloody, charred mess, on a sinking ship, as they slip off into the calming waters, clutching their little one and whispering sweet nothings to them... Everything will be okay, they're safe, Mommy and Daddy are there to help... It'll all be okay, little one... They won't ever abandon their baby...

[vegantinatalist]

Imagine a scenerio

For the next 10 years all humans everywhere go vegan. How would the world benefit at all from that?

-End world hunger thousands of times over by using all the land dedicated to ag animals and animal feed for human use. Could also be used for housing. (80% of agricultural land is dedicated to livestock and livestock feed and since 90% of farm animals globally are factory farmed (99% in my country/USA), are fed mostly human-edible crops like corn and soy, and require 10 calories of plants to generate 1 calorie of animal food) This alone really should be the only reason people need, i mean its world hunger, just world hunger is all, but if you need more- -Huge reduction in child labor (animal ag has a lot of child laborers and a huge child laborer death toll as its a dangerous job in many ways from biohazards to insanely dangerous machinery that is literally designed to disassemble and debone freaking massive animals and yes children get sucked into them from time to time) -The amount of energy we would save and produce would be astronomical -Redirect those bajillions in subsidies back into crop agriculture and make our crops less shitty and maybe save or bring back some crop species from extinction (we have lost countless species of crops) or create new better crops -Water basin and soil quality healing and improvement

-Massive air quality improvement and co2 and methane emission reduction -Pollinators would increase as deforestation stops and honey farming would no longer happen (honeybee farming is a great threat to pollinators, honeybees are not pollinators and displace pollinators) -all the sanctuaries and people dedicating all their time to rescuing animals abused and rejected by the meat and dairy industry, pet breeding industry, animal testing labs etc could now focus on other things like maybe wildlife protection and rehabilitation or caring for human orphans which would just make the world a lot less shitty and sad. i fully believe we totally have the power to tame the wilds. we've already created plant based catfood with science and only like 4 percent of mammals are wild by mass, the rest are livestock. we have the power to make the world actually a paradise if we really wanted to. this would mentally benefit people who rightly think this world is shitty and violent and pointless to engage in, and when those people are happier other people would benefit too.

this is literally just off the top of my head, there are so many more reasons. this question gets asked a lot in r/debateavegan and on vegan world discord server, you can find people talking about all kinds of things you never would have considered

[jace-writes-about-things]

Things Will Be Better

So of course I didn't finish my first play through, got to Act 3 and decided instead I wanted to start all over again with a Durge run which of course is going about as well as you'd expect, I'm trying road to redemption and of course I had to resist Gales temptations when he reached out that portal but I'm actively romancing Astarion, so of course here is my Durge Sorcerer Wood Elf Astral romancing Gale <3

tw // childhood trauma

Finally a moment to rest at camp, Astral found herself slouched on one of the bedrolls close to the campfire in the centre of camp, absolutely exhausted with the day the party had faced, having assisted the grove in fighting back against the Shadow Druid’s trying to lock the grove away from the rest of Faerûn, after finding Kagha’s plans to assist them in their plans of course Astral couldn’t sit by idly and watch it all happen. After fighting a couple annoying Mephit’s and some beefy Woad’s the party of course had to confront the woman and help convince her that life in the shadows was not worth the hassle, and then of course fight off the shadow druid’s that had disguised themselves as rats. All in all, a pretty eventful and rather painful day and Astral was ready to kick her feet up, relax and finally get some well-earned sleep.

“Fancy helping me with cooking for this merry band of misfits?” Came the wizard’s smooth voice, disturbing Astral from her peaceful relaxation, opening her eyes to peer at the man towering over her she couldn’t help but smile at his eagerness to provide for their found group. Clutching a mismatching of ingredients, food that they had scavenged, stole and bartered for he wasn’t seeming to take no for an answer.

Standing up, dusting her clothes off she gave the wizard a nod allowing him to lead the way to the dented cooking pot he had been using to whip up the party’s meals, “If we were in my tower back in Waterdeep, my we would have an impressive larder and many spices to make a grand meal, but I suppose a charming cooking pot in a camp in the middle of the wilderness shall have to do.” Reminising of his homeland of Waterdeep, he seemed almost defeated that he couldn’t prepare a proper meal for the people he had come to know and care for, it was sweet.

“What’s on the menu tonight then Gale?” Peering into the pot at the boiling water Astral quipped, “If we’ve ran out of supplies and are having a bowl of warm water each, you can tell everyone because I’m not sure their bellies would be too happy.” Earning a chuckle from the wizard at her silliness she watched as he sat himself down, a makeshift chopping board and a dagger being used to cut up some spring onions they had managed to grab on their roaming’s of the local woods, “Well I was hoping to make a nice stew but I suppose a bowl of warm seasoned water will have to do.” He smiled up at her, enjoying this banter with her.

As she sat down nearby, ready to assist him in his cooking she looked over the ingredients, sea salt of course to give the food a little bit of seasoning at least, a large slab of venison she had cut from a dead sheep herself, some fresh vegetables and of course, his spring onions.

“Where do you need me then?” Rubbing her hands together she was ready to make this cooking go by as quickly as possible as her stomach finally realised she was in the general vicinity of food it growled out in protest at its emptiness, Astral glared down at the interruption as if her stomach could feel the heated stare, “Well, seems your belly is ready to get stuck into some cooking, you could debone that venison and get it cut up as finely as you can, we don’t want anyone having to chew through the fat or picking a couple bones out of their dinner now do we?” Astral couldn’t help but blush at his recognition of her hunger, but she could hardly blame herself she had had a rather draining day, and one needs sustenance to keep fighting.

Dragging herself away to begin helping she set herself up with a slab of stone and slightly smaller slab of venison, cleaver in hand she stared down at the remainer of the sheep in-front of her, swinging down at the meat she of course had never actually cooked for herself like this before living her life on scraps and the rare hot meals she could get in taverns or any safe haven that would provide one, gods she could only remember the last time she had cooked a proper meal was with her mother as a child. So long ago now she wonders as she butchers this meat in-front of her, where if still alive her mother is it had been so very long she wonders if her mother would remember her now if she were to find her wherever her location may be, maybe she still lived in their small cottage just on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate, maybe she had moved on to somewhere else, somewhere bigger… better. She didn’t realise the mess she had made in-front of her until a gentle hand laid itself on her arm, willing her to stop driving the cleaver she held into the meat over and over and over and over and….

“Astral? Are you quite alright? You were a thousand miles away…” Gale soothed as he shifted to removed the new weapon from Astral’s hand, she clutched it with force but his hand brushing over her clenched fist willed her to release the item from her grasp and in that moment all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry out for her mother… her mother, where? Where is she, why isn’t she here? Surely, she wasn’t dead? She had be alive, it was her mother…

“Sorry I seemed to lose myself a bit there, I don’t mean to worry you, Gale.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at the man, she could feel the tears welling in her eyes as she recalled so many memories of times long passed, her childhood it all came flooding back to her so fast, like running into a brick wall at full speed. She could do nothing but stare down at her hands as she fiddled with her fingers, maybe she should just retreat to her tent and pretend that she was fine, pretend that nothing had happened. Yes, that’s what she would do. So, she stood, giving Gale a curt nod and shambling her way over to her tent like a hurt puppy, forcing herself to put one leg in-front of the other.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed as she sat in her tent, curled into her own body nothing could hurt her like this, no one could bring any harm to her as long as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself, she wasn’t here in her tent, no she was home in the cottage waiting for mother to come up to lull her to sleep with fairytales and kiss her goodnight as she danced the precipice of sleep and wake. She didn’t notice the flap to her tent gently parting, the wizard slowly lowering himself down to crouch in-front of her, warm bowl of stew in hand and a gentle smile on his face as he took in the situation, she found herself in.

“I thought you might like to try your handiwork, I must say your venison helped make this stew possibly one of the best I have made with the given circumstances, many compliments all round camp of course I had to tell everyone you gave a helping hand, my little helper.” His compliments of the food brought her back to the reality she was in, sitting in her tent a broken mess crying over her long gone childhood that she was so easily transported back to with the simple task of cooking. She gently reached out for the bowl, almost as if it would burn her if she dared to touch it but her belly rumbling in agreement to accepting the bowl had her quickly reaching for the spoon and beginning her devouring of the meal.

Gale sat with her as she ate, she couldn’t bring herself to care of how sloppily she ate her meal, she was famished and would actually fight a man if they dared to remove the bowl from her grasp, she couldn’t help but agree with her campmates as she ate… it really was a delicious meal, definitely one of Gale’s best. As she finished, she laid the bowl down beside her, stretching herself out of the curled up state she had resigned herself to for however many minutes, hours had passed as she had sat disassociated from the world around her. Gazing up at Gale she knew she had to give the man an explanation for her earlier outburst, she had walked off with nothing but a nod after viciously brutalising part of their dinner.

“I can only apologise for earlier, I’m not sure what came over me, but it was no way to act and to simply walk away without any explanation wasn’t right, I’m so sorry Gale you must have thought you were next for the chopping block.” She tried to make light of the situation but looking at Gale’s stern expression she realised, comedy wasn’t going to get her very far in this conversation, “You don’t need to apologise, you were very clearly having a moment, I could see it in your eyes that you were a thousand miles away, of course I removed the weapon not for my own safety, but for yours.” He thought she was going to harm herself, if she was going to do that she would have done in it private, she wouldn’t have made him privy to a show like that, he was too pure for that, he didn’t deserve to see something as horrible as that.

“I appreciate your concern Gale but of course I wouldn’t have done anything like that to myself, especially not in-front of someone, that would just be evil.” She tried to convince herself more than convince him, she almost didn’t believe the words coming out her own mouth, her brain and the words she was saying were warring with each other and the look on her face must have let on, as the wizard reached out to grasp at one of her hands, just like he had earlier.

“I don’t expect you to tell me everything that is swirling around in that head of yours, I understand that whatever is going on up there is most likely private and something that you’re not willing to share with a man you met not even a week ago, but when I say that you can trust me, I mean it Astral, I will not pry into your private matters if you do not wish to share them but whatever is going on please know that if you feel comfortable to share, I am here to provide and comfort you may need.” There were very few people in her life that Astral had trusted with the details of her life, many of whom were now dead having taken secrets of her to their graves, she almost didn’t want to burden him with her thoughts and history, but there was something about him, something that made her want to tell him everything as she crawled into his arms and cried into them over all the broken parts of her.

“Thank you.” Came her simple response, and for the first time in her life, rather than shutting herself off from her emotions and building her walls back up, she let herself move to him, into his arms and cry. Allowing him to wrap his arms around her as she let herself cry, let herself feel her emotions, and as his hand soothed along her back she actually believed that everything might actually be alright. Maybe this time things would different, this time they would be different.

Cross Posted on Ao3 - jacethed00d

[bellalampwickrossi]

Disney Descendants : Tiger Lily x Lampwick story ideas part 25

They actually like taking care of the plants around them. Tiger Lily feels it's important environmentally, and Lampwick really loves working with his hands. Even when they return to Neverland they have several potted plants.

Lampwick likes seeing Tiger Lily hunt, but he was NOT ready for the work to do when she caught something. The skinning, gutting and deboning so they could use all the parts of the animal was impressive but also turned his stomach the first few times.

Tiger Lily and Lampwick often run errands for each other. Tiger Lily doesn't think he should do all of them just because he stays home and he doesn't mind doing stuff that has to get done while she works. They balance out so one doesn't have to do them all.

Thanks again @askauradonprep

[the-cauldron-witch]

💼, ❤️, 🍀, 🧠, 🍎

>:D

AAAAA THANK YOU FOR THE ASK YOU ARE AMAZING 🫂🫂🫂

For this one, I'm picking OC Koji! All answers under the read more to keep things neat.

CW Abuse mention at the bottom as usual

Ask game found here

💼 - What do they do for a living?

Outside of school he works with his close family friend uncle Atari at a fish market at night. Normally, his uncle sells fish whole, but when Koji is working he allows Koji to practice his knife skills to debone and cut the fish, usually letting Koji take home the heads and bones to make fish stock.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

His best memory is when he went to his first ever day at a state fair. He had never experienced anything so ridiculous but fun, playing as many games as she could and riding all the rides until he made himself sick. Koji was never allowed to have so much fun when living with his parents, so he kind of let a little too loose and had to be reeled in by Dwayne and the others.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

He's actually inspired by one of my favorite comedian chefs, David Chang! I wanted to make a character with a deep love and appreciation for food and a sense of humor to go with it so that he doesn't entirely lose his mind in a restaurant kitchen.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

The way he balances his childish nature with his caution. While he pulls pranks and jokes around a lot, he does his absolute best to keep his jokes genuinely funny without harming anyone. He's not perfect and makes mistakes or ends up actually going too far unintentionally with a joke, but he does his best to keep things genuinely funny.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

Nonexistent. Currently he is in foster care due to the abuse and neglect from his biological parents, especially his father, so he doesn't have any contact or even any idea where his parents are. The last thing Koji heard about his parents they were serving time in prison, after that he simply asked to stop being bothered with information about his parents all together.

[pawsfortailsfordogs]

The Ultimate Guide to the Best Food for Dogs

Introduction

As responsible pet owners, ensuring the health and happiness of our furry friends is paramount. One of the key contributors to a dog's overall well-being is their diet. Just like humans, dogs require a balanced and nutritious diet to thrive. In this comprehensive guide, we delve into the world of canine nutrition, exploring the best food for dogs that not only tantalizes their taste buds but also promotes optimal health.

Understanding Canine Nutrition

Before we dive into the specifics of the best food for dogs, let's understand the basics of canine nutrition. Dogs, being omnivores, require a mix of proteins, fats, carbohydrates, vitamins, and minerals for a well-rounded diet. The key lies in providing a balanced combination to meet their unique nutritional needs.

Protein Power: The Foundation of a Dog's Diet

Protein is the building block of a dog's diet. It aids in muscle development, supports a healthy coat, and plays a crucial role in various bodily functions. When selecting the best food for your dog, prioritize options rich in high-quality proteins such as lean meats, fish, and eggs.

Essential Fats: Nourishing From Within

Healthy fats are essential for a dog's overall well-being. They contribute to skin health, promote a shiny coat, and support cognitive function. opt for dog foods that contain sources of omega-3 and omega-6 fatty acids, like fish oil and flaxseed, to ensure your furry friend's vitality.

Carbohydrates: The Energy Source

While dogs don't require carbohydrates in large quantities, they play a vital role as an energy source. Whole grains, vegetables, and fruits can provide the necessary carbohydrates without compromising nutritional value. Look for dog foods that incorporate these elements to keep your pet active and energetic.

Tailoring the Diet to Your Dog's Needs

Every dog is unique, and factors such as breed, age, size, and health condition should influence their dietary choices. Consult with your veterinarian to determine the best food for your dog based on their specific requirements. Whether it's a playful puppy, an active adult, or a senior companion, there's a perfect diet for every stage of life.

Top Picks: The Best Food for Dogs

1. Acana Heritage Meats

A high-protein option crafted with a variety of meats for a taste dogs love.

Rich in essential nutrients to support overall health.

Grain-free formula suitable for dogs with food sensitivities.

2. Royal Canin Veterinary Diet Gastrointestinal Low Fat

Specially formulated for dogs with sensitive stomachs.

Low-fat content without compromising on nutritional value.

Supports digestive health and maintains an ideal weight.

3. Merrick Grain-Free Real Buffalo & Sweet Potato Recipe

A grain-free option with deboned buffalo as the main protein source.

Contains glucosamine and chondroitin for joint health.

Ideal for dogs with allergies or sensitivities.

Conclusion:

Investing time and effort in selecting the best food for your dog is a tangible expression of love and care. By understanding their nutritional needs and choosing quality options, you contribute to their overall health, longevity, and happiness. Remember, a healthy dog is a happy dog!

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Email: admin@pawsfortails.com

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[iturbide]

Summer Storm

7,066/50,000 words

The two people at the table looked up at him as he closed the door behind him.  Dain sat comfortably on one side, legs crossed at the knee and arms folded over her chest -- though her cool smile softened when she met his eye.  “Welcome back, Miryn,” she called, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table and her chin over her laced fingers.  “How was the market?”

“I sold out,” he beamed, easing his pack down beside the door with a bright clatter of glassware.  Turning to the man standing opposite his sister, he bobbed his head in easy greeting.  “It’s good to see you, Leander.”

The man returned the nod, hawk-like gold eyes looking between Miryn and Dain.  “I was wondering where you were -- market day, huh?” he asked, giving the short tail of his red hair a brief tug.  “Maybe you can help me convince Nightshade to help me out.”

“You know my price, Lee,” she said calmly, shrugging as he planted one hand on the table and the other on his hip.  They all knew his attempts to put pressure on her with simple posturing wouldn’t work (though that had never stopped him from trying).  “A quarter.”

“Highway robbery,” he shot back while Miryn unbuckled and opened his packs, removing his market purchases and bustling about to put them in their proper places.  “Ten percent.”

“Twenty.”

“Fifteen.  Final offer.”

She stared him down, a triumphant smile twitching at the corner of her mouth.  “Fine,” she agreed.  “Give me the details.”

Leander dropped into the empty chair across from her, pulling a folded map from the pouch on his hip and spreading it across the table.  Miryn only half-listened while he prepared dinner: slicing vegetables, scaling and gutting and deboning fish, crumbling dried herbs and mincing fresh, and adding a splash of the stock simmering in the pot over the low-burning hearth to the heavy dish, before covering it and clearing a place for it to cook in the embers. 

With that done, he left them to their discussion, moving into his room and emptying his satchel of the plants he’d collected along the way to and from the city, laying them out along his workbench and windowsill to dry: some would be key ingredients for his recipes, others would be moved to their kitchen to season their meals.  The berries he piled into a bowl at the corner of his desk -- in easy reach for later when he needed a snack.

He'd cleaned his equipment the night before, after he’d finished packing the last of his market wares.  Now he reached up to the shelves over his workbench, pulling down jars of dried leaves, seeds, flowers, and bits of bark, each neatly labeled in his most careful handwriting (though he hardly bothered to look at them anymore, knowing by habit what each one contained).  Adding a thumb-sized piece of willow bark, a few dried catmint leaves, a sprig of goldenrod flowers, and enough water to cover them to a stone bowl, he placed it into the open cradle over a charred plate, a small pile of dry twigs and leaves already piled and waiting.

It would be a while until and Leander finished their discussion and dinner was ready to serve.  Spreading his arms, he pulled in a deep, steady breath, and pulled the quiet energy of the room around him, focusing it by will alone into a bright spark that set the kindling aflame.  

And with magic humming at his fingertips, Miryn rolled up his sleeves and set to work again.

[charmingbrute]

"Sir, if... If you sell fish, you should know how to clean them, right? Uhm... Could I actually buy some fish from you and pay you a little extra if you showed me how to prepare them properly?"

When queried about his proficiency in cleaning fish, the fishmonger was quick to assure that he was indeed well-versed in the art. After all, he mused, it would not do for him to call himself a fish vendor if he was not capable of preparing the fish for market. However, when asked to instruct in the matter, he hesitated, for the knowledge of how to clean was not one to be imparted lightly. Nevertheless, after a moment's reflection, he agreed, offering to demonstrate the proper techniques and the safest yet efficient way to complete the deed.

In his search for an apron suitable for the task, he hoped to find one that was clean, so that his guest might observe him more closely without risk of sullying her clothes. When offered compensation for his troubles, he declined politely, stating that the imparting of knowledge was its own reward, and that his students need only show their gratitude by purchasing more fish from him in the future. With a smile of good-will, he set about his demonstration, eager to share his expertise and to prove himself worthy of the trust placed in him. And though he performed the task with the utmost care, he could not help but feel a sense of pride in his profession.

"There's an easier way to debone it as well, but you might hurt yourself if we go about it now. How about you come back on the morrow, go home and try what you've learned today, and then tell me if you do fine?"