#bunny hull

[vintagegoddesses3]

[inthecityofgoodabode]

September 2024: The Days Leading To Our Nineteenth Anniversary

Wednesday harvest:

We cleared out the summer vegetables to make room for the cool season vegetables:

If no one else does, he wants to hear what is on your mind:

We're still working on this bed but the goal is pollinator magnet:

It came in the mail:

Anniversary flowers:

Sunday harvest:

Cool season plantings.

Kale:

Cabbage:

Swiss chard, brussels sprouts, bush beans, broccoli & cauliflower:

Spinach:

Swiss chard & peas:

Anniversary day dinner:

Lost soul:

We trekked over to Arkansas to check out a lake at a wildlife refuge. The road to the lake was out so no photos of the lake but have these photos of crossing the Mississippi River back into Tennessee:

Tuesday back at the house:

My queen working magic:

Tuesday on the grill:

Tuesday dinner:

[megaawkwardhuman]

cringetober day 19: dolls/puppets

I give myself one day for a break AND NOW I'M WAAAAAAY BEHIND 😭😭😭

anyway of course I had to draw nadja doll for this prompt! (but ya know as a bunny)

[thewertsearch]

GT: I should preface this request with an overture of appreciation. GT: For how much your cool and brotherly friendship means to me. GT: It has just been… GT: Absolutely *bully* having a standup gent like you in my corner. GT: Just a grade a dude whos a cut above the others in class and camaraderie. GT: Phew… *gropes for fresh kerchief*.

Wow, Jake is fucking terrified of this guy - or at the very least, he seems incredibly intimidated for a guy who's ostensibly just chatting with a friend.

Unfortunately, this is exactly what I'd expect from a Bro who's not any different from his adult self. Jake's acting exactly like Dave did, back when he was forced to share an apartment with the guy.

TT: Take it easy, bromide. TT: Just about the only way I could salvage endearment from this perilous slope of horseshit would be to discover, really fucking soon mind you, it was a preamble to some floundering invitation for me to rush to your vicinity as nakedly as possible.

In other words, you wish he was hitting on you.

I really don't think he's kidding, especially since both Roxy and Jane seem to want a piece of English, too. Jake's sitting at the epicenter of at least three crushes, which is not a pleasant place to be sitting when you're fifteen.

TT: But since we've already shot that wad's eventuality on so many dry runs of flustered ambivalence that were as hilarious as they were one sided, TT: That leaves only one hope for this message to avoid spiraling toward qualification as a critical fucking defect in the hull of the Mach 10 rocket that is my precious spare time.

And here's the guy's actual personality. It's a fairly even mixture of Rose and Dave, a combination which synergizes much better than you'd expect.

He's still prone to Dave-style rambles - but unlike Dave, his streams of consciousness are every bit as eloquent as Rose's text, which some extra swear words tossed in for flavor.

It's very good, and immediately does a lot to humanize him, especially when all we've seen so far is "roof. now." and "State your business."

TT: And that hope lies in the extent to which you were practicing artful insincerity. TT: Now's your opportunity to pretend that's what you were gunning for. I suggest you seize it. GT: I… GT: Oh. Yes! But of course. GT: The ironies! GT: Good grief how i was bandying them just now. You know me dude. GT: *Blows smoke off red hot irony pistol.* GT: *NONSUGGESTIVELY!!!!!*

lmaoooo

Alright, I can't actually tell if that was a Freudian slip or not - but I kind of hope it was. If these two became a couple, the vibes would be incomprehensible.

TT: I'm guessing you're probably jonesing for uranium about now. No? GT: Ok can you please just sendificate me some more already?? Im in kind of a hurry! [...] TT: You know. I've offered to construct the rabbit for you many times before. I would craft a much deadlier model. […] GT: Damn it man ive told you this is just something i have to do myself. […] TT: Yeah, I know this is your policy. You've done a good job and you should be proud. TT: But it's my responsibility as your friend to offer one last time. TT: Just as it's my responsibility not to just fork over a bunch of uranium just because you ask me in a moment of weakness. […] GT: Why not??? TT: It's too easy.

Throughout this whole conversation, I've been trying to get a grasp on Bro's general vibe - and I think I'm starting to understand it.

When you're talking to Kid Bro, everything is a game - and he'll make damn well sure that you follow the rules.

Jake previously committed to making the bunny alone, and Bro refuses to rescind that rule, even if Jake's no longer following it himself. He strikes me as a guy who frames every interaction he has as transactional, confrontational, or instructional. He's not capable of just shooting the shit - there has to be an angle.

Mind you, I don't think there's any genuine malice in it. I think this is just how he's wired - and I really do think he's trying to help Jake develop as a person, in his own way.

The problem is, we've been down this road before...

...and nothing good lies down this road.

[skepwith]

More Parts of the Revenge for OFMD Fans

Part of a series: Revenge Master Post.

This post is about stuff in the body of the ship, going more or less from top to bottom. I’m saving the sails and rigging for my next post. If you want to know more basic terms like fore and aft and bow and stern, look for “Parts of the Revenge” in my master post.

Obviously, using these terms is entirely optional, since David Jenkins et al. are free and easy with the ol' historical accuracy. This list is for pedants like me and people who like historical and specialized language. Enjoy!

Main Deck

The low “walls” on the sides of the open decks were called the bulwarks—they were to keep people from falling overboard. On the Revenge, the bulwarks are topped by a rail (railing).

A gap in the bulwark, together with a set of rungs on the hull, was called an entry port. It allowed people to climb aboard from a dinghy.

The top edge of the bulwark was the gunwale, pronounced gunnel. The expression “loaded to the gunwales” is still used to mean very full. The top edges of a dinghy are also called gunwales.

An opening in the deck is called a hatchway. I wrote about hatches a while ago, but what I didn’t realize was that the hatch is the part that covers the hatchway. The wooden grid that lets light and air through is called the grating.

In the bow, the curving rail that goes from the figurehead to the hull is called the head rail, which would’ve been really helpful to know for my toilet post. Oh well.

Stede’s journal could at a stretch be called a logbook (or log). This was a book in which an officer noted details of the ship’s daily progress and journey. Probably a bit less fanciful than Stede’s version.

Weaponry

The Revenge has guns (the word used for cannons) on her main deck and her gun deck. Before a gun was fired, the barrel was cleared with the sponge, then loaded with gunpowder and shot and wads of cloth, all of which was tamped down with the rammer. There were different types of shot, or ammunition; cannonballs were called round shot.

To fire a gun, a lit fuse (usually a slow match) was brought in contact with the vent at the top of the gun—called the touchhole—to ignite the gunpowder. (The wick added in OFMD isn’t accurate. Shocking, I know.) The slow match was usually held with a staff called a linstock, tucked into a notch on the end. You didn’t want to be right next to the cannon when it went off, because there was a non-zero chance it would misfire and explode in your face.

Despite what you see in movies, cannons didn’t produce a lot of fire and smoke; the cannonball did damage by going unstoppably through hulls, masts, and people—often many at a time—like a deadly Energizer bunny.

The gunpowder was kept in kegs in a small room called the powder magazine. (A magazine is an ammunition storage area.) This room was in the hull of the ship, below the water line, to minimize the chances of a stray spark sending the whole ship up in flames. The shot was kept in the shot-locker, a small room in the hold (though this word wasn’t recorded till 1805). As we know, Stede calls this the ball room.

Besides the regular cannons, the Revenge also has swivel guns, small cannons mounted on swivels. These were too small to damage another ship; they were there to fire at boarders and approaching boats. Or, you know, to set off fireworks.

To take an enemy ship, sailors might use a grapnel (or grappling hook). These were attached to a rope and thrown at enemy bulwarks or rigging so the ships could be pulled together for boarding.

The Gun Deck

Everything on a ship had to have a special name: stairs were always called ladders; the floor was called the deck; and a wall or partition inside the hull was called a bulkhead.

Some of you may know that a ship’s kitchen is called a galley. However, this usage wasn’t recorded until 1750; the earlier word was cook-room.

Likewise, the mess is where you eat on a ship, but this sense wasn’t recorded until the late 1800s. In OFMD’s time, mess meant “a group of people who eat together,” like officers of the same rank or sailors on the same watch.

You might know a berth as a shelf or box to sleep on, like Stede’s (and Ed’s) bed, but this usage wasn’t recorded until the 1790s. The earlier meaning, used from at least 1706, is “a room where a particular group (such as officers or midshipmen) eats and sleeps.” So you might call Jim’s room a berth—except that it changes hands, and its name has been firmly established as the Room.

A berth is also a place in a port or harbour where you can moor (park) a vessel, and thirdly, the safety margin around another vessel or object, which gives us the phrase “to give [it] a wide berth.”

Finally, the area where the animals (remember them?) were kept was a small triangular area in the bow called the manger. This seems to be where the Revenge’s en suite is, at least as far as I can figure, but if you want to include the animals for whatever reason, they’d probably live somewhere around there.

Storage

Some of the stuff on board was stored in casks, a.k.a. barrels. These could be any size, but a large cask was also called a butt. A scuttlebutt was a butt full of water attached to the deck for sailors to drink from. Unfortunately, the word wasn’t recorded before 1800, and the “gossip” meaning not till a century after that. But it’s a great word and you should use it anyway.

A keg was a small cask, usually less than ten gallons, used for things like gunpowder or rum.

A sea chest was a wooden box used to store an officer’s personal effects—or to confine a nosy hombrecito.

The Ship’s Bottom

(As it were.)

In several of my posts and diagrams I said the lower decks of the Revenge were the gun deck, the orlop, and the hold. But my friends, I made a grievous error: the Revenge has no orlop. I know!

In season 2, for the first time we get to see what’s below the gun deck. When Frenchie opens the secret passage in the kitchen, he reveals a set of stairs—sorry, a ladder—down to a grim, damp space. The kitchen is on the gun deck, so this is the deck immediately below it, and while on most ships that would’ve been the orlop, in this case it’s the hold.

The hold was the lowest compartment of the ship, used for storage and cargo. It also sometimes held the ballast—heavy stuff (e.g., pig iron, gravel, stones, lead) put there to improve the ship’s balance. The lowest part of the hold itself was called the bilge or bilges—the area where bilgewater collected and had to be pumped out.

Episode 3 shows the water on the floor—sorry, deck—making it pretty clear we’re in the bilges of the hold. On top of that, an Instagram post by crewmember Will Giles (shared on Tumblr by @ourflagmeansbts) mentioned repurposing the “bilge set.”

Which all proves that the Revenge’s hold is immediately below the gun deck, with no orlop in between.

The keel is the structural piece that runs lengthwise along the middle of the hull’s bottom. Keel-hauling was to drag someone along the outside of the keel, underwater, as a punishment—very nasty, often fatal.

Also underwater, at the stern, is the rudder, whose movement makes the ship turn. On a dinghy you steer by moving the tiller, a horizontal bar attached to the rudder post. On a ship like the Revenge, you turn the ship’s wheel, which is attached to the tiller via cables, and that moves the rudder.

That’s all for now! Coming next: sails and rigging, in port, and more sailing lingo.

Sources: Wikipedia, historicnavalfiction [dot] com, Oxford English Dictionary

[muzzlemouths]

[howlingday]

Bunny!Faunus Facts EGG DAY SPECIAL!

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Coco: We're back! Did we miss-

Velvet: (Tackles Coco) NEVER AGAIN!

Coco: AUGH!

Yatsuhashi: Oh, Velv-

Velvet: (Tackles him) YOU'RE BACK!

Yatsuhashi: AGH! (Slammed into the wall)

Fox: Guys? What's-

Coco: FOX! RUN!

1 - Rabbits are naturally social animals. If left alone, they can easily become depressed and extremely sad.

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Nora: (Sneaking up on Jaune) Heeheehee...

Jaune: Nora, don't pour that syrup on me.

Nora: Aw... How could you hear me? Your ears are plugged!

Jaune: (Takes earbuds out, Turns around) Sorry, what did you say?

Nora: Huh? But how did you-

2 - Rabbits have radar like ears that can turn 180°, and can pinpoint exact locations of sound. They also have near 360° vision.

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Yatsuhashi: Great work, Velvet! (Reaches out)

Velvet: (Bites hand)

Yatsuhashi: OW!

3 - Rabbits are naturally prey animals, so they don't like being picked up, touched, or held. When threatened, they will run away, hide, or bite to protect themselves.

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Nora: (Petting) Aw, aren't you a cute bunny?

Jaune: (Beaming)

Velvet: (Walks over) Um, Jaune? Can I get your opinion on something over here?

Jaune: Uh, sure. (Walks away with Velvet) So-

Velvet: You're safe. (Looks him over) You're not hurt, are you?

Jaune: ...No. No, I'm fine. But thank you for noticing.

Velvet: Anytime, Jaune.

Coco: ...They have been staring at each other for, like, two minutes and haven't said a single word.

Blake: ...Romance?

4- Rabbits communicate through very subtle facial expressions and body positions. Almost like a secret code.

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Ruby: Jaune, why do you fly if you get air sick all the time?

Jaune: It's the only way I can get anywhere. That, or by car. Or train.

Yang: What about by boat?

Jaune: I'm, uh, not allowed on boats.

Weiss: Why?

Jaune: Lifetime ban on rabbit faunus.

5 - Rabbits are prohibited from traveling on ferries after a legend of a rabbit chewing through the hull of a ship in the 17th century.

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Velvet: And I... I got so scared!

Jaune: Shshshsh... It's okay, Velvet. You're okay.

Velvet: But what did I do, Jaune?! Did anybody-?!

Jaune: No, no, everybody was away from you and Yatsuhashi came and got me.

Velvet: (Sobbing, Cuddles him) I was so scared!

Jaune: Ssh... There, there, it's okay. You're okay. You're safe now. (Glares at Coco)

Coco: Uh, y-yeah. My bad...

6 - Rabbits can be hypnotized, but they find it very traumatizing. Known as trancing, the rabbit is placed on their back and their hind legs are stroked. This state is known as "tonic immobility" and is a survival mechanic to simulate being dead. It used to be a popular pet bonding exercise until it was determined the action was actually mentally harmful.

[d8nielaa]

babygirl curtis is so sad bc she misses her mama and daddy, i forget how old you said she was when they died. i just imagine babygirl climbing into bed with soda and just sobbing and then everyone ends up in sodas room because he's the most comforting. and all the curtis children are crying and holding each other and fall asleep in a pile

Author's Note: ohh anon- MY HEART I CANT. Babygirl Curtis protecters unite 🫡 If I'm being honest, I don't even remember how old she was either so I'm just guessing lol

We're gonna be okay?

Curtis Brothers x Babygirl Curtis (OC)

Babygirl was 10 years old when the cops came. She was sitting with Ponyboy on the floor, Sodapop above them on the couch as they all watched cartoons. While Darrel was at the kitchen table, getting his homework done.

Darrel was supposed to graduate from high school and go to college. He was supposed to have a better life..

The whole day was a blur, filled with pure tears, anger, and grief. That day was tough for the Curtis siblings.

Babygirl was the first to cry, and managed to cry the whole night. It took Darry and Sodapop to get her to calm down. They did everything. They read to her, tried to cuddle with her (tried because she would lash out and push them away every time they did), gave her milk (which she threw right back up due to the tears). They even had to give her some puffs of her inhaler since her sobs were making it hard to breathe. Before eventually, letting her tire herself out and fall asleep on their parents bed.

The bed they'd never come back too.

Ponyboy and Sodapop were next, but thankfully Pony wasn't too bad. Sodapop on the other hand, well he also threw up.

Darrel managed to get Pony and Soda to their beds, before making his way to Babygirl, who was dead asleep.

That's when Darry finally broke.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was late at night, 2:38 am to be exact, when Babygirl woke up in a cold sweat, with tears running down her face.

She turned to Darry, who was dead asleep. She didn't want to wake him up, not after the news they had just gotten. So, she got up, and creeped her way into Soda and Ponyboy's shared room, climbing onto Soda's bed.

"mhh-soda" Babygirl whined, gently tapping his shoulder. Sodapop was a deep sleeper, but it was like he had an extra sense for Babygirl. He instantly woke up, scrambling to get up and hold his younger sister.

"Oh baby-baby what's wrong?" He asked, hulling her onto his lap while rubbing her arms.

"I miss-i miss em'.. s-so much" Babygirl muttered out, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as Sodapop sighed, and brought her in for a tight hug.

He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, rubbing her back as his grip on her only got tighter.

Ponyboy seemed to wake up at this, and wordlessly made his way over to the two, silent tears spilling from his eyes as he came to Sodapop's side. He reached out, gently taking Babygirl's hand in his, while leaning on Soda.

Babygirl and Ponyboy cried, while Sodapop tried to shush them as much as he could.

Unfortunately he couldn't, and Darry woke up, walking into the room with an unreadable expression his face.

He watched his three younger siblings for a moment, before sitting down on Sodapop's other side, lifting Babygirl's legs to place on his lap.

And for a while, that's how they sat. The two youngest crying to their hearts content, while the two oldest just sat there, not knowing what to do besides comfort them.

But Ponyboy knew, he knew, that they were going to be okay.

"We're gonna be okay" He muttered, staring up at his siblings.

"We're gonna be okay?" Babygirl asked confusedly, wiping the last of her tears from her cheeks.

"Yeah baby, we're gonna be okay"

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Authors Note: hello again! I'm so happy that you guys enjoy Bunny and Babygirl, they are in my heart always. I also hc in my mind that Babygirl has a slight form of asthma, which makes her less athletic than Pony. Also I’m pretty sure that’s ryan vasquez in the pic and not brent comer but hey-it’s okay

[lagolepuri]

#3: Tempest

GONG

In the hangar of Thaumazein, a sound rang through the empty space like a tin wash basin flung from a roof. Then there was silence. This had been going on all morning, and the staff of Sharlayan’s formerly secret facility were more than a little on edge.

GONG

The first time it happened, it was written off. Perhaps some clumsy researcher had simply dropped a tool onto the metal floor or tripped and planted their face into the side of one of the many aether repositories. It wouldn’t have been the first time. When it happened a second time, each member of the team cringed from the second-hand embarrassment of someone undoubtedly having a bad day. But as the day went on, the noise took on an ever—GONG—more insistent—GONG—frequency that defied casual disregard.

“Didisa!” called out Everilda, a dark-complected hyur who was the most senior researcher on duty that day. “Round up all the members of research and maintenance and have them convene outside. The building is to be evacuated until we can rule out any danger and confirm security. For that matter, when you’ve done that, find out where in seven hells our security detail has gotten off to!”

“On it, boss!” the lalafell called out as she bounded off around the circuit of the shipyard.

“Shall I sweep in the other direction?” asked another hyuran researcher nearby.

“No, come with me, Cutbert. Help me scour our sensor data.”

Above them the great ark ship Ragnarok loomed. Longer than the tallest building on the continent and etched down to the ilm with intricate arcane circuitry, the Ragnarok was the pinnacle of engineering in every discipline known to Sharlayan. A marvel so powerful and so advanced, that since her return from her one and only mission, no further use had been found for her. Tragically, mercifully, there was simply no call for a god-sized tool in a world of hyur-sized problems. So there she simply floated in silent majesty.

GONG

Mostly silent majesty. The hollow, thudding sound seemed to come from the air itself in the huge, open building.

“How does her integrity read?” asked Everilda of Cutbert, as they both stood hunched over cluttered displays of rolling data.

“Hull integrity is perfect,” he replied. “Damage taken in transit from rift-borne particulates was nominal. Almost all of it was handled by regenerative arcanima, and what wasn’t was buffed out by our service lads nearly as soon as she’d docked.”

“What about systems integrity?”

“Every damn team used a different lexicon for their systems’ status signifiers—aetherometrics should have a lecture for them about unified standards now that the world’s not a ticking time bomb—but best as I can tell everything’s well within expected parameters. Aether reserves were all but depleted on the return trip, but what remains of the mothercrystal’s energy has been enough to keep the circuits humming and the radio on.”

On another screen, the loporrit broadcast showed Talkingway happily pointing at a weather map strewn with bunny-eared icons of shining sunbursts. The forecast for today calls for calm winds and unusually clear skies across all of Etheirys.

Everilda gaped, affronted. “That’s been on this whole time? Turn it off! That’s a frivolous use of precious energy resources.”

Deflated, Cutbert complied and the screen flickered off. “Anyroad, there’s nothing in this data that suggests the slightest thing wrong with our girl.”

Everilda furrowed her brow in thought. “We’re going to have to start looking at alternative theories, then. Maybe something’s come up from the aetherial sea to cause this mischief.”

“You’re saying we’ve got a ghost?” Cutbert asked, astonished.

At that moment a loud metallic clamor rang through the hangar that most assuredly was caused by some clumsy researcher dropping a spanner on the metal floor. “Sorry!” called a voice from across the space.

Everilda sighed. “Perhaps we should go over this data again before we present our colleagues with any wild hypotheses.”

GONG

“Wait,” said Cutbert. “Take a look at this.” He paused the data crawl and rolled it back several seconds. “Watch this graph here.” The two glared intently at a row of low bars. For a long while there was no motion, but suddenly one bar jumped, a subtle but significant amount, and only for a moment. “That spike coincided with the sound. These are the energy level readouts for the aetherial reservoirs. It looks like our culprit might be a fault in aether cell six.”

“Alright, let’s take a look. Better get your helmet on. I don’t know what happens if these things rupture.”

The two rode a lift to the rear of the ship, now fully armored and looking like a patrol of the late Allagan empire. The platform halted just to the right of the massive ship’s tailfin.

“Well,” Cutbert offered, “There’s no obvious superficial damage, which is in line with the reports of structural integrity sensors.”

Everilda nodded. “No obstruction is apparent in the ducts and the seals look pristine. Let’s climb down onto the hull and get a closer—”

GONG

The two stared at each other through paned visors. Was it only due to their proximity that they could now feel the sound pound through their armor into their chests or had it gotten much, much stronger?

GONG

GONG

GONG GONG GONGONGONG

“Get down!” shouted Everilda, diving for the mobile platforms emergency locks before throwing herself against it.

A shrill, continuous screeching noise began to rise from the Ragnarok and moments later air around them exploded into whirling motion.

Everilda dragged herself to her feet against the railing. “Did the engines activate?!” she shouted.

“That’s not it! Look!” Cutbert pointed at a jagged green shape flitting chaotically around them.

The wild, shrieking shape circles the room in erratic arcs, cutting sharply towards the ceiling before flipping downward for a new approach.

“By the Twelve,” Everilda muttered almost too low to hear, then at the top of her lungs, “Open the—!”

But it was too late. In a sudden zip, the creature punched through the shuttered roof of Thaumazein, showering the room in broken titanium panels.

On the moon, Talkingway flipped over the back of their broadcasting desk as a brilliant streak tore across the weather map from the Northern Empty to the Black Shroud. The grinning sun graphics all flipped to reveal angry-looking clouds with puffed cheeks.

As the streak raced over Gridania towards the Howling Eye, the barracks of the Twin Adders erupted into high alert. Could a fully realized primal be trusted to exist in harmony with the land?

Over Fallgourd Float, a crew of Ixal gripped the rails of their experimental airship against the shockwave. Could the Ehcatl Nine embrace a goddess with no more need of false promises?

At Natalan, in Coerthas, tethered war balloons swayed in unison at the sudden rush of wind. After a history of bitterness and struggle, how would the Ixal respond to a version of their cruel goddess with no more need for conquest and sacrifice?

At the Howling Eye itself, the wind swirling through the cairn stones resonated with a warmer, more harmonious tone. None could say how the world would react to a properly created primal. But so long as the wind blows freely, perhaps all is as it should be in creation.

[hand-writxen]

Bruises

TW// Mentions of abuse and bullying.

The beeping of your phone jolts you out of your sleep, you struggle for a moment as the phone vanishes into your sheets. After a few moments of getting tangled in the sheets, you are able to snag your phone and pick it up.

“Hello?” you ask, your voice raspy with sleep. Theres soft sniffles and a hiccup on the other line that causes you to pull the phone away and check the contact name which read ‘Bunny’. “Leo? Are you there?” The hiccups freeze a moment before shuffling sounds and the line gets clearer.

“Oh gosh- Y/N, im so sorry I thought I hung up. Please dont worry about it.” His voice was raspy and cracked with tears, the sound of wind and rain splattlatering in the background could clearly be heard. Your head rises as you glace out the window taking in the sight of rain and thunder.

“Leopold Stotch, Are you outside right now?” You quickly get up and start to pull on a hoodie and some sweats overtop your sleep wear and pick your way across your room to your boots, silence on the other end of the phone being the response to your question. Knowing the blonde wont answer you quickly struggle your boots on and race out of your room and out the door, your brain running a mile a minute as you slip through puddles and ice. “Leo you gotta tell me please?” The sniffling finally settles a bit as he takes a breath.

“M..My Lair.” His voice is soft but still full of pain and tears. You utter a soft farewell and push yourself to run faster as you put your phone in your pocket. Turning the corner past Kyle’s house the U-Store it facility looms ahead as you quickly prepare yourself to scale the fence like you had as a kid, Quickly throwing yourself at the fence you scrabble for a hold on the wet metal as you struggle abit to hull yourself over. Once you get over the top you let yourself jump and roll before quickly jogging off into the maze of buildings. 

The pace of your jog lead you quickly to the storage locker you knew as ‘Professor Chaos’ base’. You knock softly before pulling open the side door of the storage locker. 

“You know Leo, I still find it funny you’ve had this storage locker for 9 years and they havnt once questioned the fact you all but moved in here.” You say as you scan the cozy set up of the locker, Leo had hung string lights and set it up like a studio apartment minus the bathroom. The tall blonde laughed a little, looking over at you, the smile wiped off your face quickly upon seeing the bruise shining on his cheek. Without another moment you quickly rush over and take his face into your hands and softly rub your thumb across the black and blue skin causing him to flinch and whimper. 

“Y/N, that hurts..” his voice is a croaky whine as you withdraw your hands away from his face with a muffled apology, taking the spot next to him on the bed. 

“Leo, hon.. You need to tell someone, you cant just keep hiding the fact that Steven hurts you. I can only hold back so long.” your voice is hard but soothing as you take in his face, scanning for other injuries on his soft pale skin, the scar over his left eye standing out against the dark color of the bruises causes anger to flare up in the pit of your stomach. “Im willing to add another assult to my record to protect you, you know this.” This sentence caused a small giggle and grin to brake out on his lips as you lean back against his arm. 

“I dont know why, what even am I to you? A friend? A sibling? You’ve been following me around since elementary school yet you’ve never once stated what we are, You just get into fights on my account.” He says, his face pulled into a frown. You look up at him before shifting into his line of sight and settling on your knees. 

“You really want me to put into words and actions what you mean to me?” Your eyes are serious but your voice soft. At the nod of his head you lean in quickly and kiss him, The poor soft hearted boy went rigid never having been kissed before. You pull back from him as a small smile graces your lips. “I-I know you might not feel the same but i just had to-.” your words are stolen from you as Leo takes the initiative to kiss you this time, his hands grabbing your hips to drag you into his lap. Your hands quickly find place against his neck, gently cradling his head before you two separate, softly panting with grins. 

“I love you Y/N, Ever since we where kids. I just didnt think you’d want a scrawny screw up as a partner.” His words where as shy as the look on his face, melting your heart in an instant. 

“Leopold, I fell for you the moment you smiled at me on the playground. Thats why I’ve been by your side this whole time.” you could hardly get the words out before Leo was squeezing the air out of your lungs in a tight hug. The two of you laughed and lays next to one another on the bed, looking at the glow in the dark stars you both put on the ceiling. 

“I think I could stand up to my dad if you where there with me.” His whispers as if to not brake the spell over the moment. You grin and slide your hand into his as you laugh softly. 

“I’ve always got your back Leo, and I’ll back you up no matter what.” Your voice was just as soft as your laugh as the two of you share another gentle kiss.

[kind-of-gauche]

Promo poster bunny thoughts:

Saying the word 'rabbit' on a ship was (still is, in some places) considered bad luck for a few reasons. One is a myth "rumoured to have started because the Devil could disguise himself as a rabbit." [X] This is fun in a ~Blackbeard picks the most evil pet known to sailors~ way (thank you @pyratelibrary for this genius thought). They were also one of the forms witches were thought to assume. [X]

The other reason is that rabbits kept as livestock "had a tendency to nibble on the hemp ropes and especially the hemp stuffing that caulked the hull." [X] These sweet buns would inadvertently sink ships.

Anyway I'm hoping it's Ed's pink plushie but maybe this cutie casually leads to the Revenge's demise. 😬😬

[therehavebeenstranger]

Befuckled 

by Josh Tvrdy

Nickel my tipples.  Piff my snit.  Bondle my falls.  Pound my see-see with a metal straw.  Miss in my powth.  Huck my foal while you bub my rack  with lemon-oil.  Muck fee. Muck fee  raw. Burrow inside  my petty swits with your tongue. Hum  in my coal. Make me  your dewman humpster, your dum-cump,  your gayby burl  your piggy. Hull my pear.  Night my beck.  Tither your slung inside my ear  and fack me with your jeet. Call me  bunny-hair, chide sick,  your bexiest soy. Babe,  shove your pretty case inside my frack  and feast.

(via underblong)

[mollydsails]

January 13 - Another fun week in Vero. David and I bought dinner for friends Dennis and Sharon as a thank you for watching Molly D while we were in CT.

Dinner at Pomodoro with Dennis, Sharon, Bob and Wendy

David and I were fortunate to have IP friends from VA raft with us for 2 nights. Steve and Glenda now own a Sabre powerboat, but we don’t hold that against them.

David and me with Steve and Glenda at Bobby’s Restaurant.

This past week has had its share of cold days. Not fun!

A brisk 47 outside . . .

And a chilly 54 INSIDE Molly D!!!

One afternoon, David and I and Bob and Wendy took the bus and then walked to the American Icon Brewery. It was Bob and Wendy’s first time at American Icon and the pizza did not disappoint.

American Icon Brewery

Wendy and I spent an afternoon shopping at TJ Maxx, Vero Beach Books and Publix. NO SPOUSES!! We also enjoyed salads at Vincent’s.

As if we weren’t having enough fun, we visited the VB Museum of Art, saw Mystic Pizza the musical at Riverside Theater and enjoyed a free concert at The Loop at Riverside Theater. Oh, and David and I walked and walked and walked.

Mysiic Pizza the musical

Friends enjoying Mystic Pizza with us

The men in deep concentration during game time

Sol A Maya left Vero this morning and headed south. It was sad to see them go but we will see them in Key West next month.

David and I took advantage of not having another boat rafted with Molly D to do some boat maintenance. With no boats on either side of her, we were able to give Molly D a good hull cleaning. We removed her ICW mustache, cleaned her waterline and gave her hull a soap and water wash. Not an easy task, as we used buckets of water to do the washing and rinsing. 46’, two sides, a lot of scrubbing and many buckets of water later, Molly D has a bit of shine to her hull. Won’t last long, but we know she was clean for a short time. Molly D’s top sides are dirty but we will clean those up when we are at a marina at the end of the month. Our plan is to leave Vero on or about the 24th. Plans always depend on the weather and we are hoping to have good weather for our departure. (We also believe in the Easter Bunny!)

[weaversweek]

29 "Piano in the dark" - Brenda Russell

writer Brenda Russell, Jeff Hull, Scott Cutler

"Write from your heart for yourself because that's your highest point."

Part of the UncoolTwo50 project, marking the best singles from 1977-99.

It's late October, the nights are drawing in. Take an evening for yourself: lights down low, mug of hot chocolate, perhaps the company of someone you like. Listen to Brenda Russell's album Get Here. It's got the song you know from Oleta Adams' singing. It's got "Le restaurant", with a smooth jazzy solo. And, at the centre, "Piano in the dark".

The song of a woman who is a little bored, who thinks about moving on to some other bloke. Perhaps she wants variety, perhaps he's not getting it up. And then he sits down at the piano, and all the worries and cares wash away, she remembers why she still likes him.

Brenda's performance is someone who utterly owns the song, it is a part of her. The vocals are gentle and warm, like the Caramel Bunny. The piano part is an extension to the words, everything meshes so beautifully. Joe Esposito provides the backing vocals, and the instrumentation is sparse without ever being light.

Label boss Herb Alpert insisted that this would be the first single from the album, on the reasonably simple grounds that it evokes a mood, the late-night doubts being soothed away, like the cards Brenda tosses in the video.

Nominated for the Song of the Year Grammy, but lost to "Don't worry, be happy" (which I haven't seen nominated by anyone in #UncoolTwo50, which feels about right).

[floralfawnasworld]

Did you know? Legend has it that rabbits being transported for food chewed through the hull of a 17th century ship, causing the deaths of many sailors. To this day, you cannot bring your rabbit with you should you wish to cross the Channel on Brittany Ferries. (Source: Blue Cross) Shop Our Metallic Sitting Rabbit Ornaments Today at Floral Fawna. 15% OFF SALE NOW ON FREE shipping on all worldwide orders. #metallic #rabbit #bunny #animal #cute #ornament #giftshop #uniquegiftidea #cute #pet #rabbits #holographic #figurine #sculpture #figure

[lboogie1906]

Emmalyn Paulette Moody (born February 17, 1946) known professionally as Lynne Moody, is a film and television actress. Beginning her career in the early 1970s, she is best known for her roles as Tracy Curtis–Taylor in That’s My Mama (1974–75), Irene Harvey in Roots (1977), Roots: The Next Generations (1979), and Patricia Williams in Knots Landing (1988–90).

Born in Detroit, she was raised in Evanston, Illinois. Her mother was a social worker, her father worked as a doctor for a Chicago-area hospital. She attended Evanston Township High School. She worked as a stewardess before relocating to Los Angeles for her acting career.

She moved to Los Angeles where she was hired to work as a playboy bunny at a Playboy Club. She studied acting at the Pasadena Playhouse. She studied at the Goodman Theatre and Hull House. She landed her first role as Denny in Scream Blacula Scream. She was the original Jenny Willis when the character was introduced in an episode of All in the Family. She received a starring role in Nightmare in 1976. She portrayed Polly Dawson on Soap. She had a recurring role on General Hospital as Florence Campbell.

She participated in public service radio spots for Africare to help improve the livelihood of Africans.

She never married and has one child, whom she gave up for adoption. She was reunited with her daughter, named Lisa Wright. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence