#bird netting price

[lady-phasma]

In the fading light

Daemon Targaryen x fem Dornish!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, but I was going for soft!Daemon so I don't think there are that many warnings this time.

Summary: Daemon comes to visit you at Godsgrace, the seat of House Allyrion, in Dorne. Kind of an AU in the sense that Rhaenyra isn't the object of his love, nor his motivation for "ending his marriage" to Rhea. 2.6k words

From the request here - romantic Daemon inspired by the song "kalam eineh" (Words of his eyes) by Sherine. I was able to work in a few lyrics as well ("the one whose eyes the moon envied" and "get lost in his beauty").

a/n: Dorne is a very big place and all of the houses are as different as the Northern houses. So as I write more Dornish!reader fics I start to see them uniquely in my headcanon. Godgrace is on a river from what my research tells me, so I think it worked out perfectly that Sherine is Egyptian. I've dropped some Egyptian elements into Godsgrace and that's how it is in my head now. (If there was a face claim for a location think Thebes/Luxor landscape.)

A warm breeze wafted onto the balcony where you and Daemon sat. The sun sank low against the horizon. The river in the distance shone with golds and pinks. A falcon screeched nearby. You turned from the gorgeous view of the Godsgrace river oasis to look at your Prince. He sat, reclined, opposite you. You slid your toes up the inside of his leg, teasing him. He stroked the top of your foot, your ankle, up your shin. Your smooth skin reflected the light of the setting sun much as the river did. Daemon slipped his fingertips under the hem of your thin skirt. The contrast of his pale hand under the bronze fabric was delightful to you. This Northern prince, so accustomed to clouds and darkness. Such a dreary land he came from.

You watched him as he looked out over the Greenblood river. It would be so easy to get lost in his beauty. His hair, his eyes, his mouth, everything about him was entrancing to you. You glanced back out at the river, the people going about their evening paying no attention to the lords and ladies so high above them. Birds circled above fishing boats as the nets were pulled in. Lights began to flicker in windows across the city. You smelled roasted meat and fresh baked bread on the warm air. You would have to dress for the evening meal, if you didn’t request it in your quarters.

“Did you come only because the fool Prince Martell forbade it?” You were genuinely curious. “Or because of your brother?”

“You know that is not the reason,” he spoke softly and continued to stroke your leg. “Their approval means less to me than you think.”

“You risk much coming to Godsgrace.” You wiggled your toes against his thigh.

“It is a fair price,” Daemon replied.

“Surely you are quite rested now, my love,” you goaded. “It is a long journey up the Greenblood, but not so tiring that you would ignore me.” You flashed your eyes at him. They were nearly the color of burnt umber in the fading light. Soon your maids would light torches and candles in your chambers. You would hear them through the diaphanous curtains that hung in the entry of the balcony. Though they would never dare to disturb you, even if you had your Targaryen on the floor in front of them.

Daemon turned his violet eyes toward you, finally pulled from his thoughts. Gods, you thought, even the moon could envy those eyes! The last pink of the sunset caught on his silver hair as it swung freely about his face, tendrils caught in the breeze.

“Quite rested,” he smirked as he spoke. He slipped his hand behind your knee and, reaching forward, grabbed your other leg and pulled you, bodily, to him. Your chair legs screeched against the stone floor as you threw your head back and laughed. When he had you where he wanted you, he smoothed his palms up the inside of your thighs. You rested your bare feet on the seat of his chair on either side of his legs. He pushed your skirt all the way up to your waist as he stared into your eyes. His thumbs grazed the creases of your thighs and you sighed.

“The journey was too long, but certain hindrances are now resolved,” his voice was low and quiet. “I am no longer married.”

You raised an eyebrow at these words. You trailed your fingertips down one of his forearms.

“I hope that it was painless, my prince,” you both knew the mocking of his title was not malicious. He was not your prince and you enjoyed reminding him of that. “You know, you could have stayed in Godsgrace and I could have sent one of my women to dispatch the issue quickly.” Your grin was knowing, yet seductive. Daemon’s response to Northern morality was curious to you. He didn’t want his wife, but could not bring himself to have another while she lived.

“I did not say I did the deed,” he tried not to smile. “Only that it was resolved.” Oh, he was deliciously vile when it suited him. You chuckled at this.

“Well, I had no trouble with the situation,” you grazed his thigh with one foot. “I needed only your devotion, not your marriage.”

“That you will always have, my lady,” he replied as he sank to his knees in front of you. You moved your foot to his shoulder, the other still in his chair, as you languidly spread your legs to make room for him. He looked up at you again, catching your eyes with his as he kissed your thigh, then your belly. You stroked one hand over his silky head as he lowered it and kissed the dark hair between your legs. You heard him inhale, smelling you, and you became even wetter.

Daemon licked the full length of your slit and paused at your pearl. He circled it with the tip of his tongue and you gripped the arms of your chair. He slid an arm around one thigh to steady you. Then he grazed a finger through your folds, finding your entrance quickly, as if he knew your geography by heart. He teased and didn’t slide inside you yet. He used two fingers to circle your opening, almost matching the rhythm of his tongue on your clit. Your hips rocked. You tried, and failed, to get his fingers inside. He stilled you as much as he could and continued for a moment that felt like an eternity.

When he finally slipped his fingers into your wet heat he sucked on your clit and your hands flew to the back of his head. You moaned and pushed against his mouth. You thought you felt him chuckle. You didn’t care. You ground your hips on his mouth and fingers.

“Daemon,” you whispered, as that was as loud as you could manage. “That’s it, just there. Please.”

He rubbed his fingertips against the spot that drove you wild, fighting against your clenching muscles. His tongue resumed its circling movements, but with a slightly quicker pace. Your breathing was becoming shallow and the sounds you made came deep from your chest. He pumped his fingers harder into you, knowing the pressure you needed to reach your climax. Your toes curled on his shoulder. You let go of his head, gripped the arms of your chair again, and your body curled forward as your climax overwhelmed you. You yelled his name, moaned incoherently, and then laughed. He hadn’t stopped, tongue still lapping causing your thighs to twitch. You playfully pushed at his forehead to give you peace.

You leaned forward and cupped his face in your hands. His expression wasn’t playful, as yours was. The look was full of something akin to admiration. You kissed him, roughly. You licked yourself from his lips, his tongue, and moaned into his mouth. He reached up and tangled his fingers into your hair at the nape of your neck, letting some of it loose from the pins that held it in place. Without much grace, he blindly began to release your hair from its confines.

Daemon broke your kiss and began to stand up. You let your fingers trail down his body as he did. You grazed your fingers over his pants, deliberately avoiding the hardness straining the fabric. He pulled pins and a comb from your hair, tossing them on the floor with abandon. You looked up at him, a playfully displeased look on your face for the carelessness he showed for your jewelry, and shook out your hair. It fell in near-black waves down your shoulders and back.

“I need you,” Daemon breathed. His eyes were dark with lust. Still looking up at him from your chair, you pressed your palm over his erection. His eyes nearly closed. His chest rose and fell, trying to maintain his composure. You pressed just a little harder. He grabbed your wrists. It didn’t hurt but made it evident that he couldn’t be teased this evening. You stood, your wrists still in his hands. You raised to tiptoes and pulled at his bottom lip with your teeth. Your eyes narrowed in defiance against being so restrained.

“That’s enough!” He threw you over his shoulder. You squealed and laughed, kicking your feet and pounding your fists lightly against his back. Your laughter bounced off the stone walls as he carried you through the curtains into your chambers. You pushed against him, raising your head to look at the two startled maids, and laughed harder.

“Let me go!” You giggled and kicked your feet but he only held your ankles as he walked you to the bed. You heard the two girls scamper from the room, giggling and twittering.

Daemon dropped you lightly on the bed. You were breathless from laughing. He smiled down at you, but that look was back. What had changed since he had gone North? Your laughter faded into giggles, which in turn faded into quick breaths as he knelt on the bed and kissed his way up your feet, calves, and thighs. He began to unfasten the ties of your skirt at your waist and you helped him with the small buttons of your delicate top.

He licked and kissed the curves of your exposed belly. He nuzzled his nose between your breasts, then kissed each of your nipples. You played with his silky hair, enjoying watching him worship you. When he reached your neck and jaw you began tugging on his shirt, pulling it toward his shoulders. He straightened long enough pull it over his head, then bent down to your mouth again. You kissed him back, hands gripping his neck, stroking his shoulders, down his biceps.

Daemon moved with you, still kissing, as you began to sit up. You gently pressed his shoulders back and guided him to lay down. You straddled his thighs and began pulling at the laces of his pants. He groaned at the pressure of your fingers. You stroked his freed cock, watching your hands move slowly. You enjoyed making him wait but you couldn’t wait any longer. You released him and begin to remove his breeches. Once you had both struggled with that for a moment, you trying not to giggle during the endeavor, you climbed up him and placed yourself on his belly. You could feel his cock pressing against your buttocks. You leaned forward and kissed him and he cupped both of your breasts in his hands.

You lifted your hips enough to reach between you and guide him into your wetness. He growled and squeezed your breasts a bit harder. Slowly, you took him inside you. You raised up, allowing him to keep his hands on you, and pressed your hands against his stomach as you rocked your hips. You took his cock as deep as you could. Gradually, at first, then setting a gentle pace that brought sweet sounds from Daemon’s lips. You leaned forward slightly, finding the angle you needed. He moved his hands, one to your neck, one to your hip. As you settled on a rhythm, he began to match you, thrusting upward slightly each time you rocked back on his cock.

You let your head fall forward, you hair sweeping forward, framing your face and his. Your fingers curled against his chest. You kept this pace as long as you could before your cunt began to ache with the beginnings of your climax. You slowed and Daemon took over. Gripping both of your hips, he fucked up into you, harder than you had been able to manage. His grunts made you squeeze around his cock. They were wonderful sounds that only increased your need for him.

You rested your face against his, pressing your cheeks together. Neither of you could stay quiet. Your name fell from his lips as fluidly as the curses he uttered. His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you down onto each of his upward thrusts. The sound of flesh against flesh, lewd and satisfying. Your bodies glistened with sweat in the torch light. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him but the pleasure was too great.

“Yes, please, Daemon,” you whined in his ear. Your lips drug across his cheek as you searched for his mouth. You tried to kiss him. Instead you panted and moaned against his mouth. As your climax began the wave that would drown you, you heard his voice, much calmer than yours could have been in that moment.

“Look at me.” You did. He didn’t stop fucking you, but he held your gaze with those perfect eyes. “I love you. I would kill for you. I would kill anyone who kept us apart.”

Something in his eyes, not just his words, was your undoing. Your climax spread over you at the same time as it curled up inside you. You squeezed your thighs against his hips, almost stopping his movements entirely. You bent to him and kissed him, moaning and sighing, as you came.

Suddenly Daemon’s large arms encircled you and in your delirium you could hardly notice that he was moving you. You clung to his shoulders as he somehow, and gracefully, managed to lay you on your back. He had not pulled out. You wrapped your legs around his hips and ran your hands into his hair.

Daemon fucked you without restraint. You were coming down from your climax but your cunt gripped him tight and he grunted with each deep thrust. He shifted his weight to one hand and deftly scooped one of your legs into the crook of his arm. You bit your lower lip and looked up at him. He was watching you.

“Touch yourself,” he panted. “Come on my cock again.” His smile was enough to convince you, if his words hadn’t been.

So you did. You rubbed your fingers quickly, and in time with his strokes. When you were close again, you arched under him, head thrown back, Daemon’s mouth on your exposed neck. Then he pressed his hips against you as hard as he could. His cock buried completely inside you as he came. Your cunt spasmed around him and you both felt his seed fill you as your climax peaked. He cursed and tried to gently lower your leg. Your body shook and you were unable to help him. He chuckled and kissed your forehead.

As he slowly pulled out and away from you, you mewled and groaned, closing your thighs and squeezing them together. Daemon lowered himself down next to you, on his side. He rested his head on your chest. You smoothed his hair away from his forehead in a long stroke down to his back and sighed. You let your hand rest on his shoulder. He held you close to him.

The cool night breeze wicked the sweat off your skin. The torches guttered slightly. You wrapped one leg over Daemon’s. You wanted every part of your body touching his. You breathed in his smell mixed with your own and the dusty sweetness of Godsgrace coming in through the curtains.

“No one will come between us,” Daemon whispered against you.

“I know, my love, my dragon” you replied, lips brushing against the top of his head.

The sun had set and, perhaps, the dark was what he needed. In the light of day The Rogue Prince was rakish and disreputable. But at night, with you, he could shed that facade.

Masterlist

Tags: @black-dread

[screamingcrows]

Kisses. 🎲🫶

Kisses 🤝

You rolled 6! That's one gentle peck (not from a bird, I promise)

"We're leaving."

"We're wha- hey Zandik!"

You winced at how every student in the House of Daena turned towards you, their stares unforgiving in silent condemnation of the careless disturbance. Zandik merely huffed, light blue curls bouncing with the shake of his head; unbothered by the countless eyes on him.

How did he, loudly criticised at every gruelling step forward, carry himself with such an air of confidence?

Too late did you realise that the source of this contemplation stemmed from observing his gait, hips swaying lightly and shoulders pressed back as he walked away. Away from you. Right.

It was hardly satisfactory conduct in the opinions of your peers, too loudly shutting your books and stuffing everything haphazardly into a bag. It didn't matter, dew under the sun. They would talk regardless of what you did and how, such was the price for befriending an outlier.

Not that it mattered, not when Zandik's eyes lit up, drowning the stars in a crimson ocean while wild theories spilled from his sculpted lips. You caught up halfway to his preferred exit.

"What was that about? I wasn't done studying," you did your best to sound angry, ignoring the warm feeling of your palm against his shoulder, the uniform soft against your skin.

No doubt he was softer still underneath.

"And yet, you clearly have no qualms leaving prematurely, tagging along like a lost puppy" he sounded just a little smug, a tone you knew well enough to leave the bait alone.

"You specifically said that *we* were leaving."

"And you did as I said like..."

He raised his eyebrows, flashing you a sharp smile that had your heart fluttering. If there was one indisputable truth in this world, it would be how this man would one day be the death of you, of that you were certain. And as such, a scowl settled on your features, rolling your eyes before reluctantly completing his sentence.

"...a dog"

He chuckled slightly, relishing in another victory. It was comfortable, days spent attending classes, discussing what you'd each learned whenever your schedules would allow. Nothing was truly unattainable as long as he was by your side, your combined strengths blending seamlessly to form a reassuring net, always prepared to catch and cradle whoever should stumble along the way.

A brief brush of his lips against your forehead was enough to pull you back to the physical plane. The gesture set your veins ablaze, the stares burning into your back paling in comparison. He'd never done anything remarkably comparable in the presence of others. It tingled.

With his hand adorning your wrist, he led you outside in the direction of his dormitory.

"I had noticed you were beginning to lose focus anyway. And I have exciting news to share," his breathing came a little faster, "I will show you the details in my room. But I have made a breakthrough in my tinkering."

Without hesitation, your pace quickened to match his, hand shifting to allow your fingers to entangle. Was he not so reliant on time ever moving forward, a prayer to relive this uncomplicated moment forever would've already left your lips.

[thedrawingduke]

TALE of WOE:

So I had offered to help with a mural project for a local company my friend/roommate works for. They had a really bad design mocked up that no one was happy with and I’ve had *some* mural experience and thought it sounded fun. Besides, it helps out a local business. And it gives my relatives something to point at and appreciate (they do their best to be supportive but my Frankenstein art is…a lot for them, let’s be real).

The owner was really difficult to get in touch with (had to play telephone thru my friend to hear from him) but he liked my concept sketches. After I heard he planned on low-balling us big time with the budget, I came up with a simpler design to pitch at our first and only in-person meeting. (And I mean LOW ball, he wanted to pay like 5-10$ per square foot, no design fee).

This guy is quite young. He showed up in a grubby shirt, sport shorts, and a business tie “as a joke”. He proceeded to low ball us but he liked the sketches and when we gave a second estimate, he did eventually approve the budget (a sweetheart deal, a steal, from the generosity of our hearts and goodwill for our friend and a local business). But he did flaunt his commission of a “coffee robot” for his fireworks stand (a side gig?) so I can see a worrying lack of discernment and money-smarts.

We work on getting a contract written up but he’s not responding and my friend (the “telephone”) is struggling to get info from him. Then, 3 days before the final art deadline, he says he wants the old concept actually (the one for a much bigger budget) but he doesn’t want to pay for the design changes or increase budget. Apparently the intern and another party (not owners) changed his mind idk. He is very malleable, apparently.

When we try and say that’s not going to be possible without compensation, he passes the whole project to his intern and says we will be compensated for work done, as he wants to pay us for the use of the concepts and go with another muralist (intern’s dad). Ok buddy, good riddance, I guess.

My design partner and I draft up two pricing options and send them to him. Telephone friend tells me that he’s dragging his feet on the payment because he’s had unsuspected money issues (the previous owner was/is a crook who is allergic to paying taxes) but she assures me he will compensate me, it just might take a while.

At this point, I’m just relieved to be free of the mess. I really did want a mural under my belt and the money is needed but hey, it happens. Clearly, this guy doesn’t understand that my partner and I were already giving him a sweetheart deal and we can’t make him value us and our work so we see this as a net blessing. Best of luck to their new muralist, whoever that may be.

Holidays happen, no news. No updates. Most importantly: no check. I’m on day 2 of driving back home from holidays on the East Coast when I get a text from telephone friend informing us that the owner has decided to “pass” on the design packet options and just…not pay me. Oh and that’s not all! The new mural is up and lo and behold: it’s based off my concept art. The concepts he didn’t want to pay for but clearly gave to the muralist to use as inspiration!!!

The final art is not traced from my sketches, and there are some elements added so the muralist clearly made it his own—I’ll hand it to him. But the CONCEPT is my work. I had nothing to go off of from the owner (the original mural concept from the previous artist was unusable). The line art style, the use of 2 kinds of birds, the color scheme, pop art style bursts, even the idea of a hand holding the coffee cup with the company logo—those were all things I came up with and researched and put on paper.

It sucks on multiple levels, obviously. But what gets me is that I can’t think of a way of making a stink without it putting my friend/roommate’s job in jeopardy. Like I could just go public and see what happens, but the owner is so irresponsible…he’d just put the mess on her plate. Idk he better shape up and start treating her right OR hope and pray she doesn’t leave because she’s the only thing between him and us having a Problem.

Idk the whole thing blows and the economy is bad and now I can’t shop my mural designs to anyone else because the concepts are the same LOL. What a mess! Happy new year to me

[thedevillovesflowers]

Angels +Plot 🪽🪽🪽

Call of Duty AU

In this AU, there are many beasts but angels are the ultimate prize to capture or hunt.

Angels are not the heavenly beings you read about in bibles but rather they are a type of humanoid with the capability of flight, long lifespans, and the believed healing powers.

Angels are extremely rare creatures to spot. They are known to live solitary lives, however it has been documented they might live with exception of small families/groups.

Angels are omnivores. And can see in the dark. Most prefer to fly at night so they won’t be seen by humans.

Angels can come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Their wingspans vary depending on their height. There are also subspecies of angels.

Angels wing colours/patterns vary on the regions they reside in (think of owls and other birds of prey). For vanity, some angels will paint the tips of their wings to attract a mate.

Feathers are apparent on various parts of their bodies, legs, arms, chest, face etc. Braiding, preening, beads in the hair are comfort acts angels do, and to also show affection for one another.

Facial feathers are small, usually appearing on the forehead, cheeks, nose and chin.

Angels are either described as beautiful creatures, or terrifying ones, depending on who you ask.

Kingdoms would hire mercenaries to hunt down rare beasts to hang up for display, profit, or for pets.

But no one has ever captured an angel. Not yet. But then, a powerful king (Shepard) put together a campaign to capture one, he hired the 141 along with his own general, Graves (and his shadow company) to do the task. What the 141 doesn’t know, is that the king is dying of old age, he believes that capturing and killing an angel and using their blood will grant him long life and youth.

141 has slain/captured many beasts in their careers, so getting an angel was a challenge they were willing to take. I know this seems cruel of them, but in this AU they start off as thinking their helping people out by getting rid of beasts, but they’ll soon learn that what they’re doing is actually harmful.

The reader is an angel, living with their family in the mountains and caves.

One night, the reader set out to retrieve food, until she was shot down by a net the 141 cast, severely damaging her wing. And her family had to flee, leaving the reader behind sadly.

While graves and his men hung back, price, Gaz, soap and ghost went ahead to investigate.

Ghost went first, sword drawn, slowly rounding to the forest’s opening to where you laid. Rope held tightly over your body, one of your wings was cut and broken. You were unconscious, facing away from him. There was feathers strewn about everywhere, and as ghost came closer and walked around to see you clearly, he suddenly halted dead in his tracks, a terrible feeling pinched in his stomach….

You were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

(This is just an idea for now, I might draw this.)

[live-love-be-unique]

I Am No Bird; And No Net Ensnares Me

Summary: Ghost finds himself starting an informal book club with the newest addition to the taskforce.

#22. Ghost and Reader are in a book club for @glitterypirateduck Ghost Challenge.

Parings: Ghost x f reader

Warnings: angst, death and an unconfessed love

You’d been reading your book, when you looked up noticing him staring “you can borrow it if you want? Price says we’ll be sitting tight for a while”

You weren’t kidding, three days later and the exfil still hadn’t shown up. Ghost devoured your book in the meantime, it was actually pretty good, a story about two sisters that had been separated during German-occupied, war-torn France. A little too heartbreaking for his liking but still a good read. One quote amongst the many you had underlined in gray lead pencil had stuck with him: “if I have learned anything in this long life of mine, it is this: in love we find out who we want to be; in war we find out who we are."

Days later you’d been sitting on the break room sofa, talking with another female soldier and as he passed he dropped a novel onto your lap. Not a fiction story like you preferred, this one was a memoir of a retired Navy SEAL who was also a Guinness world record holder and an ultramarathon runner. He’d met the man once, respected the hell out of him, for an American. “Thought you’d enjoy this” he offered to your questioning glance as he passed.

It quickly become a habit between the two of you, packing a novel in amongst your supplies for missions to swap during to periods of waiting. Almost like a little unofficial book club. Sometimes, you’d find yourselves together in the break room decompressing after a long mission discussing the books you’d read over cups of tea. He’d learnt you preferred fantasy, dark romance and mystery while he enjoyed thriller, true crime and the odd biography.

He also learnt that you weren’t above the odd prank either, during one particular downtime, he was reading the book you’d brought along and, as he was invested in a pretty graphic sex scene involving a gun, Soap had spotted the book’s title, it also didn’t help that he had been imagining it was you underneath him in that same position. Once Gaz had caught onto what was happening he knew he’d been hearing about it for weeks. He caught sight of you giggling away behind his copy of the historical non-fiction he’d lent you about America's first considered serial killer.

He retaliated by bringing what he imagined you’d think was the most boring book in his collection, all 411 pages of a nautical historical fiction about a young naval lieutenant newly promoted to master and commander. He was right, you’d read the entire thing, under sufferance of course.

He found himself watching you as you read, the way you chewed on your lip as you concentrated, the way you smiled when you read something you enjoyed and frowned when you didn’t. He even learned to love the little notes and quips you left in the margins of his books when at first it annoyed him. He’d watch you, hoping to catch you glancing over at him, above the pages of your book, sending a soft smile his way.

The last mission had been a mistake, anything that could have gone wrong did, and you had born the brunt of it. You’d been raced to the medbay unconscious and barely breathing, they’d had to intubate you immediately and had moved you to a hospital off base for treatment. He hadn’t left your side since.

He spent his time devouring any medical textbooks he could find on your condition, so much so that Gaz was convinced, if allowed, he could perform your surgery.

Price had visited a few days later, citing mission reports as the reason for his delay, bringing with him a box of your belongings, “some comforts from home” he’d muttered. At the bottom of the box, buried underneath a well-worn sweatshirt and a teddy bear that was signed by friends and family from back home, his hands brushed against a small paperback.

The cover was tattered and pages dogeared and a little note on the inside cover from someone he could only guess at being your grandmother telling you how this was her favorite story as a young girl and how she hopes you love it as much as she did. It was clear that you loved it as much as she had hoped as his eyes trailed over sections you had underlined and the little notations you’d made in the margins, it was like a window into your soul as he found the first page a started to read aloud to you in that quite hospital room.

“There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further out-door exercise was now out of the question.” His voice thick with exhaustion and emotion as he read. He read to you throughout the night and into the next day.

Your heart monitor flatlined just as the story ended and Jane and Mr Rochester were reunited. Even though the doctors and nurses said you probably hadn’t heard anything, he liked to think you’d held on long enough to hear him finally finish your favourite book.

Days later Ghost found himself standing at the front of the large crowd of mourners, surrounded by colleagues and friends alike as they lowered your coffin into the ground. He couldn’t move as the others dispersed, your younger brother clapping him on the shoulder as he passed by. Price had stayed with him, Gaz and Soap stood close behind, giving them a moment.

“Did you tell her?” Price had asked him.

“Tell her what?” He muttered, watching as they filled in your grave.

“That you loved her” Price murmured, chewing on the end of his cigar.

“No” he shook his head. “Didn’t get the chance”

“She knew, lad, she knew” Price sighed, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

She does now, he thought as he absentmindedly scratched at his chest. The sandiderm covering the fresh tattoo itched like crazy underneath his suit. The simple line-work done immediately after your passing, your favourite quote, directly over his heart: "I am no bird; and no net ensnares me”

List of books mentioned:

The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah

Can’t Hurt Me by David Goggins

Haunting Adeline by H. D Carlton

Devil In The White City by Erik Larson

Master and Commander by Patrick O’Brian

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

[not-available-for-comment]

As Twitter finishes burning to the ground, I'm going to take a minute to plug one of the artisans I've been following there. The person behind OiShiny is disabled and queer, and he makes really lovely wire-wrapped pendants for very reasonable prices. I have a few of his egg nest pendants and one wire-wrapped, and its my goal to someday get one of his tentacled labradorite pendants (or see if I can commission him to make one of carnelian, which I had my eye on during the pandemic but couldn't afford to get).

He doesn't know I'm doing this plug, but I'm sure having Twitter disappear is scary for him and he's a lovely and talented person. Link and a few example images below.

One of his full-size tentacled pendants in labradorite

A selection of "treat-sized" small net-wrapped pendant in various shades of laboradite, ranging from pale green through amethyst, dark blue, and blue-gold

One of my bird's nest pendants

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 6)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Peeta is down by the river, camouflaged in the rocks after Cato slashed his leg and left him for dead.

“Ah ha ha,” Chaff smiles when he spots Haymitch with an entire pitcher of rum. “So this is how the Capitol treats it’s favorites.”

“Had to steal it off the cart.” Haymitch chuckles allowing his friend to slip in between him and Y/N.

“Steady now.” Y/N teases, a hand to his back until he’s seated.

Chaff knocks her shoulder with his own, “what’s the matter, baby?”

Y/N has nothing but love for her husband’s best friend. However they are two peas in a pod and when they get together…there goes all the liquor. Back home in twelve, Haymitch has been known to have a drink or two, still able to enjoy his wife and children. This place brings it all back, the horrible things he’s done, everything he failed to do. If he wasn’t drunk, he’d surely lose his mind.

“I wanna send Peeta medicine,” Y/N explains.

“Sponsors leaving you high and dry? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Not the sponsors, Haymitch made him a deal.”

“Who am I to disrespect this poor boy’s dying wish?” Haymitch quirks a brow.

“And his wish is to-”

“No parachutes. Save Katniss.”

“Katniss,” Chaff drawls.

Two of their tributes have formed an alliance. Rue and Katniss hatching a plan to blow up the career’s stash; lightning fires to draw them away.

“This green stuff is gonna smoke like crazy, as soon as it’s lit, move on to the next one.” The girl on fire warns.

“Ok,” Rue agrees, “we need some kind of signal; in case one of us gets held up.”

“Like what?”

“Here, watch this.” Rue lets out a tiny melody, which the birds rings back.

“Mockingjays.” Katniss realizes, “that’s brilliant.”

“We use them back home to signal the time.” Rue says, shifting the backpack on her shoulder. “If we hear that, it means we’re ok and we’ll be back real soon.”

“We’re gonna be ok,” Katniss pulls her in for a hug, running a hand over her hair. “Hey, I’ll see you for supper.”

————————————————————————

For once in her life Y/N is grateful for the Capitol broadcasting the action only, in the viewing room. A split screen between Rue lighting the fires, the careers chasing smoke and Katniss making her way to the cornucopia.

Clove and the others leave a single boy behind to keep watch. As the red haired tribute from five lily pads around explosives to steal food, the watchman catches her in his peripheral. Taking off after her into the woods.

Katniss lines up her shot, missing the corner of the apple net by just a hair. She takes a step closer, a few calming breathes later the tip of her arrow pierces the bag and out tumble all of the apples.

She’s blown back by the force of it.

“Oooh,” Chaff winces.

After a moment Katniss gets her bearings, heading back to Rue.

The boy keeping watch pays the price, Cato snaps his neck before giving him a chance to explain.

Rue is well on her way to light the last fire when she hears the explosion. Katniss did it. Then the trap set by the careers falls, she tripped the wire, a weighted net.

“Shit.” Y/N covers her mouth. Katniss…please hurry.

“Come on, Rue,” Chaff says, under his breath. “Work your way out.” He coaches, as if she can hear him. She does try, just like he taught her, but the net is too heavy.

When Katniss finds the final fire unlit, she whistles their signal.

“Get her out.” Haymitch rocks back slightly in his seat.

“Get her out.”

“Get her out.

“Get her out!”

The people of the viewing room echo. Y/N turns her head as the room builds to a collective chant.

“Get her out. Get her out. Get her out.”

It isn’t unheard of for spectators to voice their call to action. Though they are more concerned with the entertainment value than the life of the child.

When Katniss gets no response, she races toward the pile of sticks and leaves meant to start the last fire. Still no Rue.

“Katniss! Katniss, help.” Rue calls from beneath the net.

Katniss cuts her loose, Rue safe in her arms. “I’m here, you’re safe.”

The viewing room cheers are short lived. Marvel sends his spear flying, only to be met with Katniss’ arrow. When the cameras pan back to Rue…the damage is clear and irreversible.

Y/N excuses herself. She cannot watch, she cannot pretend, she cannot breathe. Scrambling into the nearest private room with the curtains drawn. Pushing them back with little care before realizing that it is occupied.

“You look ill, dear.” The Capitol woman gasps. “Come, sit down.”

“I’m so sorry to barge in like this.” Y/N apologizes, it’s not anyone she knows.

“Never you mind that, the pleasure is mine. Let me get you a drink.” The woman begins waving down a waiter.

Y/N grabs the ice bucket, “can I throw up in here?” Doesn’t matter, it’s coming up.

“Oh my stars, you poor thing.” She fans the victor as best she can, while continuing to wave one hand out of the privacy curtain. “Must be something you ate.”

“What can I get for you?” The waiter asks.

“Some water, to start and a fresh ice bucket.”

“Yes, right away.”

The woman takes great pleasure in ‘nursing’ Y/N back to health. With water and something close to a bland cracker.

These people are not inherently bad, Y/N realized that years ago. Conditioned in their belief and out of touch, but they are not evil. I don’t hate them…I hate what they do.

It’s not long before Haymitch is tearing back curtains to find her. Letting out a sigh of relief when he does.

“Haymitch, what a pleasure.” The woman holds out a hand.

“Great to meet you, love the dress.” He kisses the top of her hand, using it to guide her toward the exit, “give us a minute, will you?”

“But of course.” The woman is awestruck. The victors of district twelve, in her private room! Hailing over everyone who is anyone. Mouthing, “they’re in there,” motioning toward the fabric that separates them.

“I need you to listen to me.” Haymitch whispers, kneeling in front of Y/N. Wiping away any remnants of vomit and tears.

Y/N nods.

“Katniss gave that little girl a proper send off, you know as well as I do, the gamemakers and Snow aren’t happy about it.” She created a martyr.

Again she nods.

“I’m gonna talk to Crane, see what I can do for damage control.” Keep Katniss alive.

“Ok." Don’t let them kill Katniss.

“We’re gonna get you a mint and then I need you to walk out of here like nothing is wrong. Can you do that?” He tips her chin up, holding her gaze.

There is worry in his eyes, guilt and sadness. Her husband is afraid and he needs her. “Yes.”

“Good,” Haymitch gives her a reassuring smile, taking her into his arms.

————————————————————————

Katniss receives a parachute of bread a while later. After the silence is louder than the cannons and the artificial sun has set.

Haymitch is still negotiating, Y/N figures he must’ve sent it. Until she sees the note attached, from district eleven.

Y/N makes her way over to Seeder, sitting alone in the opposite corner.

“It was for Rue,” she older woman explains before Y/N can get a word out. “My district spent days scrounging up the money, the sponsors finally came through. We had enough to send some for Thresh too.”

“You could’ve sent him both.”

“My people wanted Katniss to have it.” Seeder informs her.

“I know she…appreciates their generosity very much.”

The answer is dry, rehearsed. Y/N is young and still does not understand. “I knew a girl once, she was kind and brave. She played the games and never let them play her. For the first time, I thought there might not be a victor. Because she was lying there, bleeding out and her partner was there, bleeding out…nobody was killing anybody,” she pauses. “Haymitch had to fight like hell to get you out of that one, they wanted your family-”

Dead. “I know,” Y/N stares down at her hands.

“I saw something that day, and I see it in her.” Seeder motions toward Katniss on the screen. “A good, genuine person with heart. They tried to snuff it out of you, beat it out of you; but I still see you. You hold onto your heart and you never let anyone take it from you.”

“Thank you,” Y/N blinks back tears.

“Attention, tributes, attention. The previous rules allowing only a single victor have been…suspended. Two victors may be crowned, so long as they both originate from the same district.”

All hope is not lost.

Part 7

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @officialjellydoughnut @whoreforfictionalpeople @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme

[kedreeva]

Hi! I went through your FAQ and didn't see a direct answer this this, but how do you go about actually obtaining a peafowl? How much do they usually cost per bird?

Up front, I can only speak to USA practices, so if you live elsewhere the answer may not be the same.

I'll answer the second part first since it's "easier," or maybe I should say, slightly more concrete, and the answer is: it depends on what you want, and how capable you are of caring for it. I have seen day old blues from backyard breeders go for as little as $15, but unless you really have a handle on what to expect and how to care for them, you will almost certainly be responsible for the death of a day old peachick and waste the money. I have watched an online auction for an ultramarine yearling go for $6,800, but that's because that was a newly imported color from Europe that no one else had. A green - a true, pure green, not an American green that's actually a high green blood hybrid - will run you $5-10k depending on where you import from or who you're buying from that's imported themselves and tracked lineage. An American green will still run you a couple thousand, but more like $2k than $6k. Your average adult blue will run $80-200, but I've watched blue hens go for $400 at auction. Color/pattern mutations will run $150-800 typically, for "common" colors, depending on their quality and whether they're a nice looking hybrid (blue + green species), but I've seen nice morphs go for $35 at auction. I say this because auctions can be great on some days and terrible on others and you would need to know average prices for the color and/or pattern you want, to know if you're getting a deal or getting hosed.

But regardless of a $15 chick or an $800 silver pied platinum Spalding, the expense on them actually comes mainly from the cage- the minimum (and I do mean minimum literally not pretty owners of YouTube outrageous claim of minimum), flight pen size is 500 square feet with no side shorter than 12 feet long (to accommodate trains and allow the birds past you without injuring themselves, and 8 feet tall to allow for a 5-6 perch the males can get on to clean their trains. Every bird must also have 150sq/ft, so 500 will hold 3, but not 4, you'd need 600 for 4. But with peafowl, bigger is better- the more space they have to move around (and thus away from you) the closer they are willing to come to you, because they feel like they can safely get away again. The minimum size is also not optional if you want to maintain healthy birds- they're extremely susceptible to parasites and bacteria often found in raw soil, and even to just... Getting dirt in their face and getting infected sinuses. Minimizing their ability to access dirt by growing in grass and cover crop plants like clover is the single greatest step you can take to protect their health. And this doesn't even include the coop, which is minimum 8x8x6 to protect them and their trains. With the price of lumber, wire, and netting, this will easily run you a few thousand, but it's by far the safest way to keep them, especially the hens, who otherwise tend to get eaten by predators when they set a nest while free ranging. It's also the only way to ensure they don't just leave, because they are game fowl like pheasants, not like chickens, and you can't just toss them in the yard and expect they'll stay. Occasionally they do, but largely they don't.

To answer your first question... It depends on where you live. Most USA states have livestock auctions and bird swap meets- your best bet to acquire local birds is to find those but how to find them... Well. You kind of just have to luck upon them or hope a web search turns them up, if they're even advertised online, on publicly accessible places. There are bigger breeders around the USA that will ship birds if you're looking for something specific you can't find locally, but you'll be looking at a $350+ shipping bill. You can join peafowl groups on Facebook and try to find locals, or contact the UPA (United peafowl association) to get a breeder directory but that's only people who have paid to be in the club, which honestly doesn't do much anymore. You can also, if you know of one breeder, ask if they know other breeders. A good breeder should at least be able to say 'if I don't have what you're looking for, you can try this other person/people.' alternately there's ebay and craigslist, although I wouldn't trust the former because you can only sell eggs, and peafowl hatching eggs are a big fucking waste of money, typically speaking. They're extremely finicky eggs to hatch and most people prefer to let broodies hatch when they can, because they don't hatch well in incubators.

[burningvelvet]

Just realized that today was the 176th birthday of Charlotte Brontë's novel Jane Eyre (1847)! Here are some of it's best quotes to celebrate:

"I need not sell my soul to buy bliss. I have an inward treasure born with me, which can keep me alive if all extraneous delights should be withheld, or offered only at a price I cannot afford to give.”

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.”

“Even for me life had its gleams of sunshine.”

“I remembered that the real world was wide, and that a varied field of hopes and fears, of sensations and excitements, awaited those who had the courage to go forth into it's expanse, to seek real knowledge of life amidst it's perils.” 

“Crying does not indicate that you are weak. Since birth, it has always been a sign that you are alive.”

[darkmaga-returns]

It will come as no surprise to learn that Bill Gates and Jeff Bezos have invested heavily in “climate vaccines“.

The pair are bankrolling the development of a vaccine designed to reduce the methane produced by cattle.

In the video below Josh Sigurdson of World alternative Media reports on how they are pushing this latest agenda:

“Jeff Bezos’ “Earth Fund” is attempting to do something Bill Gates has also been investing in for years. So-called “vaccines” that stop cows from emitting gas. Of course this is simply an excuse to inject cows with mysterious poisons which then end up being fed to the masses. These injections are the latest example of the “poisoning of the well” as we also see the push for mRNA Bird Flu “vaccines” in the food supply.

This latest story once again correlates the World Economic Forum’s goal of net zero with the Covid hoax as the WEF openly stated in 2022 that “Covid” was a test for compliance to bring in climate policies and 15 Minute Cities.

Recently, the United Nations Pact For The Future was signed by 193 countries and includes the net zero agenda, the eventual banning of meat, the shuttering of bank accounts if you say negative things about the establishment online and the integration of carbon credits attached to your bank account.

As we see weather modification across the board causing disasters, as we see the war on farmers, as we see the push for both World War 3 and Civil War which would allow the state to bring in emergency orders while destroying the supply chain, as we see the mass culling of animals under the guise of “Bird Flu,” as we see inflation driving food prices up, it’s blatantly clear the direction they’re leading us to. The destruction of the supply chain, the poisoning of what is left and the enforcement of rations on digital IDs. The global technocracy nears more every day.

We are witnessing mass death from the “Covid vaccines” and as more is exposed about the hoax, we’re being hit by a dozen other things to not only distract us but keep people in a perpetual state of fear so that the culprits themselves can come in and pretend to be a “solution.”

The solution is you. Reject the system. Withdraw from the system. Build your own, grow your own, stock up and exit the global financial system as much as possible.”

[animalsalvationassociation]

A.S.A. Octonauts Headcanons:

Pt. 8 — Professor Inkling:

Theodore Arthur Inkling was born and raised in the deep waters of the Atlantic ocean. Due to the nature of his species, he once had many thousands of brothers and sisters. Once.

Growing up he only knew a few of his family members, His sister Rosemary, his Grandfather, and his mother. There were others but they never stuck around too long to properly know one another.

Rosemary was his only friend and companion, when they hatched the pair set out together, neither of them wanting to be alone.

Theo only knew his grandfather because he lived near where Inkling and Rose hunted. Their mother was there when they hatched but it wasn’t very often they saw her.

Their grandfather was a very grumpy fellow who spent little time with anyone, but over some odd years he got used to seeing Theo and Rose, sometimes even inviting them over for the evenings. (Of course nighttime in the “Midnight Zone” worked a little differently to ours, but we won’t get into that. It was also very dangerous to be out late and he pitied them)

When Theo was still very young he fell into a heavy underwater current and was swept far away from home. When he came to, he found himself washed up in a tidepool unable to escape. Even if he were to get out he’d have to flee across the shore without getting snatched up by birds or a hungry predator, then there was the matter of which direction he was meant to go.

Understandably, he was quite upset. Seeing no way out Theo just waited (albeit very teary eyed, seeing as he was still pretty young).

The universe must’ve heard him because a little while later there was a curious young girl who showed up and offered to help him. He was startled of course, thinking she would eat him but she quickly assured him that wasn’t true at all.

Her name was Samara, a young Burmese Python that would later become one of his closest friends.

(Although he first introduced himself as Theodore he asked her to call him Arthur. He liked the name a lot better and that’s what his sister would call him. Samara did the same, asking him to refer to her as Sam.)

Sam was very kind and borrowed her father’s book of maps to show him the way to the deep ocean. They said goodbye, with a small parting gift from Sam (a small bracelet made of shells and beads)

Arthur followed her directions, swimming far from the English Channel (where he washed up) to the open ocean. But his journey was far from over.

He was nearly scott-free when suddenly he was swept up in a massive net! A fishing boat had accidentally swept him up alongside their catch of cod. He was lucky to be as small as he was and after some odd minutes of struggling he managed to slide between the mesh just as the net was being heaved onboard.

The next day Sam found him in that same tidepool, in the very same state she had met him in. He told her what he had seen, and Samara was forced to explain her world to him.

Back then, the surface was much different to how it is now. Boats overfished, the shores were crowded with garbage, and factories filled the water with toxic chemicals, poisoning not only the ecosystems but the people as well.

For years the price of housing had gotten higher with wages staggering, people had been forced to the streets, some even traveling to the countryside where the air was at least a little cleaner.

Arthur was horrified and even Sam agreed that it was no way to live. Even children could see how sad the world had become.

That’s what started it all. A single spark of fear and Inkling knew that he couldn’t just leave. He missed his sister and grandfather of course but this was bigger than them. This was bigger than the whole ocean! This was the world they were talking about!

He wanted to fix this, not just for the fish but for the surface dwellers as well. Everyone deserved clean air and water, a place to sleep at night, food to eat. Why should they have to settle?

It began with a pact between two friends. They would start small. Arthur and Sam were still kids, no one would listen to them unless they showed everyone how much they cared.

So they made arrangements. In order to help they had to learn. Sam would go off to school and they would meet a few times each month to study together. Arthur couldn’t go to school so it was Sam’s job to make sure they learned alongside one another.

She brought home books, tests, and pictures. Anything that got him to see what they could really accomplish.

In their time together they scoured beaches and shorelines, with every visit the pair of them did whatever they could to keep their home clean.

When they grew older their traditions continued, they had to. Sam’s father even joined in sometimes, escorting them to places they usually couldn’t go.

(Sometimes Sam would even put Inkling in a tank on a little wagon and run around the shops with him trailing behind. It was the best years of their life.)

Finally school was over and Inkling had not only excelled in Sam’s studies but had found new ways to find information. (He would even go on to teach both his sister and grandfather everything he knew)

But even with school ending, Inkling didn’t want to stop. He wanted to have a full education experience.

Sam loved her friend dearly and knew if their plan was going to work, she had to put her life and education on the line. With Inkling’s encouragement Samara applied to several different schools and once she was accepted and invited to tour the grounds she took Inkling with her.

It was difficult for sure. She applied to dozens of schools, but no one could understand the lengths Sam and Arthur would go to to even get him into a classroom. That was until they met Professor Lwazi Ntuli.

Headmaster at the time, Ntuli was a large creature with a massive heart, and he saw Arthur for what he was, a person. Luckily for Arthur, Ntuli was not only the headmaster of a renowned school, but an inventor too, and he had been working on something that would change the world.

Ntuli saw their potential and was able to give both of them a full ride scholarship. In return both of them would help him reach out to students all across the globe.

Ntuli began to finetune the creation of his specialized suits (thanks to Arthur) for creatures who otherwise wouldn’t be able to breathe/function in places that weren’t their natural territory. And to test them they were given out to those who earned scholarships from out of the way places such as the Arctic, Antarctic, the seas/ocean, etc.

In their college years Arthur and Sam found people who were just like them. Students who needed a community, a village. That’s how they met many of their life long friends.

Arthur found Peggy Scratch, a young woman who had basically given up on everything. If it wasn’t for Arthur she wouldn’t have found her safety net.

Marin Kelp was another person they accepted, closely followed by a young Julias Copper. Marin had a hearty laugh and a strong resolve, he cared about people in ways others struggled to. Always the wing-man, and a bit of a lug-nut when he wanted to be.

Julias himself was a quiet fellow, keeping to himself most of the time. A gruff exterior but was always ready to throw out a well meaning joke to combat others.

All five of them graduated together, and in turn that allowed Sam/Arthur’s plan to evolve. Since it was no longer just the two of them they needed to expand. That’s when Marin had the brilliant idea to create something that helped people all across the world. Ntuli did it with his suits, even cities like Zootopia (a largely populated city, famous for its integration of new technology and efforts towards renewable energy) had begun to change how their city was structured, allowing all kinds of creatures to live there.

They called it the Animal Salvation Association. And after all those years, Sam and Arthur were finally able to fulfill their promise to one another.

Family:

Despite how grouse he was, his grandfather (Ballard) was a good man and a great neighbor. He was the kind of guy that would make an off handed comment about the shingles on your roof or your gutter right before work, and when you’d come home you’d find him fixing whatever was wrong.

With every year that passed Ballard found acceptance with his grandchildren. The three of them worked hard to survive, helping one another whenever they could.

Ballard learned how to read and write (from Arthur of course) a lot quicker than Rosemary ever did. He would go on to publish several books before his passing.

It wasn’t until Arthur was much older that he learned about his Great-Grandfather Averill who was the first ocean/sea creature to write a book. He wasn’t able to learn much except what Ballard had shown him by giving Arthur Averill’s journal.

It turns out Averill had met a lighthouse keeper many years into his young adult life and became good friends with. That friend would go on to teach Averill how to read and write, how to calculate math equations, and even learn to document the world below the water’s surface.

Rosemary on the other hand lived quieter than her brother ever did. She kept to herself but had such a kind heart. She was the only one who could combat her grandfather’s grouchy comments.

She lived well into her adult life, even having several of her own children, including her son Squirt who Arthur was always very fond of. Unfortunately one summer Rose vanished without a trace. Not even Ballard, who had shared his home with her, knew where she had gone.

They searched everywhere for her but to no avail.

Squirt himself lives on the reef where his great grandfather once did. He’s still rather young but he’s learned how to take care of himself well enough. Although that never really stopped Arthur from worrying.

The Inkling family has many other relatives that we see within the show, most of them are distant cousins like Irving. But no matter how far they are on the tree, they’ll always be his family.

Fun Facts:

FaV cOlOr isssssss Cyan?? Teal?? Whatever color his chair is.

He’s sooooooooooo got a crush on Min!

He met Min when the A.S.A. was first being established. He really has a knack for getting stuck in places. (I was never able to watch this episode but apparently he quote, “ Got stuck clinging to bamboo after a storm and Min saved him by carrying him down.”

So . . . Strong wife.

*Starts Chanting* InKy! iNkY! InKy!

Inkling's hobbies include: Reading the newspaper, eating muffins, drinking coffee/high tea, doing research on the Octo-net, blowing bubbles out a pipe, reading in the library, eating sandwiches, dusting his books' dust jackets, baking pies, climbing the playground's jungle gym, studying his travel guide and maps, leading games of Oceans & Ogres (the in-universe Dungeons & Dragons/DnD), reading to the Vegimals, and listening to music on his record player (or “Fish Sounds”). Majority are exclusive to the books. [ Source: Octo-Wiki ]

Inkling’s fav kelp cake is Sauerkraut??? (Also from the wiki . . . dude why)

Fav gup . . . the Octopod . . . No comment

Well actually yes. Comment. And subscribe!

Squirt is 100% on the Junior Octo-Agents and I feel horrible for not adding him to the line up, he LITERALLY in ONE episode! I’M SOWWYYYYY!!!! I’LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN I SWEARRRRR!!!!!

Who could forget Mortimer the Mimic Octopus??? Apparently I can . . .

Harry the Harbor Seal is also on my list of “oopsie i forgor”

(Idk if it was Harry who was friends/allies with Inkling or Barnacles?? But he seems more of an Inkling friend than a Barnacles one. Although who am I to say? Barnacles can be friends with whoever he wants)

Inkling is the Co-Founder of the Octonauts ~ Who’s the other founder?? Samara ofc duhhh

(Actually no that was rude, ya’ll probably didn’t pick up on the hints I left in my other posts. My bad.)

Mustache.

Monocle.

Grimoteuthis.

Fish Biscuits.

That’s all I have.

(I apologize to my friend @calamaroo for keeping her waiting on this post. I am a terribly slow over-writer, I am so sorry.)

The Inklings:

Averill (Great-Grandfather), Ballard (Grandfather), (Mother’s name unknown), Theodore Arthur, Rosemary (Sister), Squirt (Nephew), Cousin Irving, Literally every Octopus/Squid in the entire ocean.

Other Headcanons . . .

Captain Barnacles ( 1 / 2 ) / Kwazii / Peso / Dashi / Tweak / Shellington / The Vegimals

[ This is a Octonauts AU, in no way is this canon to the OG storyline. ]

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

2024 results warning rant: protect your peace before reading

Hello my mutuals. I just wanted to give a post election update and confirm stuff. I apologize for my absence, but I need to scream somewhere.

My state fully slipped red this election season.

My state was once seen as a state where you voted based on values and not sides. We were red, but had blue leaning federal representstives. Our rep in the senate went from blue to red. The new dickhead is pro a national abortion ban. Selling off our national land to rich out of staters. Further deepening the wealth gap in my state.

The only good news is that my state is still temporarily a safe haven state for abortion care. As all states surrounding us have harsh laws surrounding abortion.

I am safe as I can be for now. I have a home.

But I know that my state has homosexual marriage as being illegal on a state by state level. We still have Sodom laws that are canceled out by the federal right to marriage. If that right to marriage was stripped at the federal level, we would lose it here.

As someone who is studying to go into social work i am looking at the reality that every field i want to enter is going to get cut or reatricted into obsolescence. I was going to specialize in community aid. Getting my masters to work as a therapist for rural communities.

I understand the want to punish those is red states. I really do. But we did what we could. In the next few weeks you will blame the 3rd party voters, and electoral college. But this doesn't change the fact that our government will have 3 republican branches in government. Even ignoring the Supreme Court, this is bad.

I am scared.

The thing about rural red states is, there is no where else to go. Whenever people panic about the prices of blue states. There is somewhere for them to go. Out of their city or move to a big safe city somewhere red. Rural but safe. Where do I go? Living in one of the cheapest areas in my shitty state. I worry that i wont be able to stay safe forever. Most men I work with comment about how thin. Or frail. Or weak I am. Its a joke that i would lose any fight. That I easily get tired when doing anything that requires manual labor. Thst I have a good body and not much else. Women here get married at 20. Maybe go into nursing if they dont marry blue collar. All the jobs that pay well employ the men I fear. Where can I go? I don't love men, and the men here are those who put us into this mess.

I am scared. Scared that the one field i was passionate about was about to be stripped away from my hands. That I am going to watch my town of retirees realized how fucked they are without their Medicaid and Medicare. The fact that I still need to cut off half of my family for my own sanity. The fact my family has been outing me to anyone they know, because they are accepting enough to have a gay child. That I can't feel safe anymore. That the jobs that keep me alive won't keep me safe.

Soon, the family i live with will want me out. Throw the bird out of the nest, as clearly i am just a leach.

Living on my own in a cost of living crisis. In a few years. One or two. There will be no safety net. That's my reality.

What if he cuts FAFSA scholarships? What if I can't even get my degree?

That's in the future.

We had our first snow last night. And I am tired. So I'm playing dragon age. And eating good food.

I will post something helpful later. But for now. If you need something to do, go download fics you love. I suggest calibre to keep them sorted.

I know I will survive this.

But what does survival look like? Going to work, living paycheck to paycheck. Not saying the wrong things. Then going home and hoping to find the queer community i crave online. Watching people lucky enough to not be born here live the lives i want. Living life vicariously through my phone at my grown ass age. An age i fully expect myself to be happy and out.

I'm tired. So for now. I will let myself be scared. This will pass.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Proverbs of Solomon

1 The wise sayings of Solomon, the son of David, king of Israel. 2 To have knowledge of wise teaching; to be clear about the words of reason: 3 To be trained in the ways of wisdom, in righteousness and judging truly and straight behaviour: 4 To make the simple-minded sharp, and to give the young man knowledge, and serious purpose: 5 (The wise man, hearing, will get greater learning, and the acts of the man of good sense will be wisely guided:) 6 To get the sense of wise sayings and secrets, and of the words of the wise and their dark sayings. 7 The fear of the Lord is the start of knowledge: but the foolish have no use for wisdom and teaching.

Advice to a Son

8 My son, give ear to the training of your father, and do not give up the teaching of your mother: 9 For they will be a crown of grace for your head, and chain-ornaments about your neck. 10 My son, if sinners would take you out of the right way, do not go with them. 11 If they say, Come with us; let us make designs against the good, waiting secretly for the upright, without cause; 12 Let us overcome them living, like the underworld, and in their strength, as those who go down to death; 13 Goods of great price will be ours, our houses will be full of wealth; 14 Take your chance with us, and we will all have one money-bag: 15 My son, do not go with them; keep your feet from their ways: 16 For their feet are running after evil, and they are quick to take a man's life. 17 Truly, to no purpose is the net stretched out before the eyes of the bird: 18 And they are secretly waiting for their blood and making ready destruction for themselves. 19 Such is the fate of everyone who goes in search of profit; it takes away the life of its owners.

The Good Woman—Wisdom

20 Wisdom is crying out in the street; her voice is loud in the open places; 21 Her words are sounding in the meeting-places, and in the doorways of the town: 22 How long, you simple ones, will foolish things be dear to you? and pride a delight to the haters of authority? how long will the foolish go on hating knowledge? 23 Be turned again by my sharp words: see, I will send the flow of my spirit on you, and make my words clear to you. 24 Because your ears were shut to my voice; no one gave attention to my out-stretched hand; 25 You were not controlled by my guiding, and would have nothing to do with my sharp words: 26 So in the day of your trouble I will be laughing; I will make sport of your fear; 27 When your fear comes on you like a storm, and your trouble like a rushing wind; when pain and sorrow come on you. 28 Then I will give no answer to their cries; searching for me early, they will not see me: 29 For they were haters of knowledge, and did not give their hearts to the fear of the Lord: 30 They had no desire for my teaching, and my words of protest were as nothing to them. 31 So the fruit of their way will be their food, and with the designs of their hearts they will be made full. 32 For the turning back of the simple from teaching will be the cause of their death, and the peace of the foolish will be their destruction. 33 But whoever gives ear to me will take his rest safely, living in peace without fear of evil. — Proverbs 1 | Bible in Basic English (BBE) The Bible in Basic English is in the public domain. Cross References: Genesis 41:42; Numbers 12:8; Deuteronomy 4:6; Deuteronomy 21:18; Deuteronomy 28:63; 1 Samuel 19:10; 1 Kings 4:32; Job 4:8; Job 21:14; Job 27:9; Psalm 1:1; Psalm 10:8; Psalm 25:12-13; Psalm 28:1; Psalm 81:11; Psalm 116:6; Proverbs 2:1; Proverbs 4:1; Proverbs 5:12; Proverbs 5:22; Proverbs 8:1; Proverbs 9:9; Proverbs 15:27; Proverbs 16:19; Luke 7:30; John 7:39; Romans 2:5; Romans 10:21; Ephesians 5:11; James 4:3

[miriamladyvoid]

Upcoming fics...☕︎

Voting is over! Thank you all for participating and voting! ) 294 votes? I didn't expect so many votes :0)

So there we have our winner: Always an angel, never god. (I'm surprised Malleus didn't win)

So the order of work and publication will be like this:

1.-Always an angel, never god.

2.-My favorites.

3.-Crow and Baby Bird.

(These three will be the highest priority of work) Those below will have a slower publication rate:

4.-Midnight Talks.

5.-Honest Contract.

6.-Did you look back?.

7.-A gift for a Henchman.

8.-Did I make the right decision?.

9.-The Ace Up Your Sleeve.

Although it is slow cooking to create and do this creative process in writing my fics for the first time, I will leave you a little glimpse of what (could) be each fic (this is subject to change so don't get too excited, the final product may be the same or very different from this draft):

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Did I make the right decision?

-"It is strange to see such a vulgar flower among the thorns, isn't it?" the noblewoman murmured with false sweetness. Each word was a cut, a reminder that her choice to join Malleus was not only an act of love, but also a declaration that defied centuries of tradition. Will this be the price she must pay for having dared to love a king?".

The Crow and Baby Bird

-"She moved through the corridors like a restless little bird, exploring every corner with the same energy with which sparrows jump between the branches. There was something so intrepid, so alive in her spirit, that made him wonder to what extent he could control that flight. Because, in the end, he was both her protector and her jailer".

The Ace Up Your Sleeve

-"It was at that moment when Ace knew he was lost. No matter how many tricks he had up his sleeve, there was no card that could beat the one she had just played: the truth hidden in her eyes and in that smile that made his own game wobble".

Midnight Talks

-"Her laughter was so soft, like the echo of a chime in the distance. Every time she came closer, he felt a tug at his heart, a reminder that even though eternity had condemned him to watch the ages pass, he could not allow himself to cling to someone who was as fleeting as a star".

Honest Contract

-"Deep in his heart, he had always feared the truth as much as the waves that lashed his home: relentless, eternal, and with nowhere to hide. This contract had no deception, no clever twists, no little tricks hidden between the words. There was no safety net to protect his heart".

My favorites

-"In the end, perhaps, it's not about her having just one favorite, but about how, together, they become a mosaic of unforgettable moments that make her feel that, in the midst of all the chaos, she found her little piece of heaven".

Always an angel, never a god

-"Sometimes, she felt as if her heart were a dying star, flickering weakly in the vast darkness of the sky. Always present, but barely noticeable among so many other, brighter lights, beautiful in its light, but always seeming to be just a heartbeat away from going out".

Did you look back?

-"Time became a stagnant river between them, a reflection of the Lethe that made them forget everything except the comfort they found in each other. But the possibility of their departure feels like a distant echo of an ancient myth. It was a thin golden thread, a lyre string that threatened to break."

A gift for a Henchman

-"Having a henchman meant more than just having fun or getting into trouble together. It meant having a special place in someone's heart. And Grim, for the first time, realized that he wanted to be worthy of that place, too".

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(that's what I have in draft).With this little glimpse, do you feel more interested? Which one interested you the most? Well, you'll find out very soon! :D So stay tuned!

[eptodaytommorowforever]

Events In The History And Of The Life Of Elvis Presley Today On The 29th Of July In 1976.

Elvis Presley The Civic Center, Springfield, Mass July 29, 1976

By Sam Hoffman Springfield Daily News July 29th, 1976

Elvis Presley is still the entertainer of the century. The singing monarch strode into Springfield Civic Center tonight and spent better than am hour on stage, entertaining his subjects and making just about everyone there happy with a bag of his oldies, goodies and Goldies, as well as his latest hit single I'm Hurt, which ought to net the King a few more riches... and deservingly so. It was a paunchy looking Elvis Presley this year and even a large belt failed to hide the fact that even the King probably can't say 'No' to a second helping at the dinner table. Musically, The Elvis Presley Show was a smasheroo. The one disappointment - a big one in our books - was his failure to include that beautiful ballad Love Me Tender on the program. Aside from that note, Elvis Presley did his thing and the audience showed its pleasure with screams and cries of 'Elvis Presley's hand-clapping, foot-stomping, and those who could whistle, did. There aren't many performers today who can hold audience attention from start to finish. Elvis Presley is one who does it every time and anywhere he appears. Last the audience was under their King's spell of song, charm, chatter and a toss of a scarf. The latter is a fixture in a Elvis Presley performance and some of the lucky persons who grabbed off scarves had to pay with a kiss. The Civic Center may have been in semi-darkness but the moment Elvis Presley stepped on stage, an endless barrage of camera flashes made night look like day.

Elvis may have slowed down his pelvis gyrations some but his program of song was right on target. From opener C.C. Rider the singing monarch moved quickly into Is It All Right? and Amen, a couple of hand-clappers. The bag of songs included Please Love Me, If You Love Me, Give Me a Mountain and Help Me. There were also some older Goldies such as I'm All Shook Up, Don't Be Cruel, Jailhouse Rock, You Ain't Nothing But a Hound Dog and Only Fools Rush In. Unlike most Presley concerts this one was minus a religious flavor. There were several religious songs on the program but they were delivered by a gospel group which preceded the King.

Elvis Presley usually sings them himself. He did offer up a neat version of America the Beautiful, a big vocal and musical sound. There was no question the audience showed their affection to the man. They did it in so many ways - with flowers and a variety of gifts which somehow made their way on stage.

There were sings hoisted aloft telling Elvis Presley he was loved and some parents who brought their youngsters edged close to the stage and held their offspring up high to get a closer look at the singing monarch. We asked a few people in the audience if they felt it was worth plunking down the price of a ticket to see Elvis Presley and the chorus was unanimously 'Yes'. Our sentiments exactly.

Rare Live Candid Elvis Presley Photo's Wearing Here The Two Piece White And Blue Egyptian Bird Jumpsuit And The Matching Belt Captured Here By Reporter Journalist Springfield News Sam Hoffman. Who Attendd This Show Performance Concert.

[live-love-be-unique]

Casey’s masterlist

Who I currently write for: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things), Steve Harrington (Stranger Things), other Stranger Things characters, Carmy Berzatto (The Bear), Chef Luca (The Bear), Ritchie Jerimovich (The Bear), CoD, Top Gun

Stranger Things masterlist:

Eddie Munson:

Saturday Movie Night

Eyes (ft. Steve Harrington) Part 1, Part 2

My submission for @lesservillain Strange & Spooky Stories prompts

There's A Fine Line Between Love And Hate: 1

But it’s Home To Me

Steve Harrington:

Put Your Sweet Lips On My Lips

Headcanons

Eddie and Wayne

Gremlin Boyfriend Eddie

The Seasons

The Bear masterlist:

Carmy Berzatto:

• Let Me Fix It

Chef Luca:

• Dance With Me

Ritchie Jerimovich:

• The Honey Bee - coming soon

CoD masterlist:

John Price:

• Oh Darlin’ come to bed

• The Mrs

• Captain Price Gave You An Order

My submission to @deadbranch 50 word challenge •Crossing All The Lines

part of @glitterypirateduck O,Captain! challenge

Ghost:

• Misery’s your master

• I Am No Bird; And No Net Ensnares Me

My submission to @glitterypirateduck Ghost Challenge

Soap:

• And I’ll buy you the world

• Weekend Away

My submission to @glitterypirateduck CoDVacationMode challenge

Gaz:

• Admiring from afar

• Roscoe

• One More Time

Alex Keller:

• Boss

Top Gun masterlist:

Bob Floyd:

• Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight

My submission to @lewmagoo Holiday Celebration

Other Things:

•Love-Struck playlist for @translatemunson story Love-Struck

• The Witch At The Edge Of The Woods inspired by one of @ghouljams oc’s

• Sandalwood and Smoke

My submission to @the-californicationist nameless challenge

• 911, What’s Your Damage? Playlist for @translatemunson story The Tortured Firefighters Department

• Man vs Bear

My submission to @ghouljams King Killer challenge