#egg: this is MY elm tree!! >:<< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[arleniansdoodles]

More Dunk and Egg fanart, featuring Dunk, Egg, and Aerion Targaryen from The Hedge Knight! I went a little further with the stained-glass style this time, and I'm happy with how it turned out! Especially Aerion's cloak, which is supposed to be fully black if I remember right; I added in the fiery colours just to help it pop XD

Also, the dragons here aren't actually there - it's meant to symbolize the Targaryens fighting (over Dunk hahaa)! The designs are based on the descriptions of their dragon eggs; Aerion's is gold and silver, and veined with red, while Egg's is white and green, all swirly. And the tree in the back is meant to represent Dunk :'''D

[citrlet]

because i was asked for what mods i use, i decided i'll just make a whole post!

most of everything here is pretty cottagecore/naturey~

under the cut because my game is heavily modded this list is long!!

visual

medieval buildings

way back pelican town

seasonal cute characters base / expanded / east scarp

all cuter animal replacements

vibrant pastoral 1.6 (temporary fix)

overgrown flowery ui

medieval craftables

dynamic night time

cottagecore fences

lamps

gwens paths

animated gemstones

foliage redone foliage only

rosedryads fairies

elle's town animals

sve facelift

more grass

medieval dnt

flowergrass and snowfields

expansion fish redesign

clothing / hairs

more accessories and stuff

cozy scarves

hoods and hoodies

vanilla pants and skirts

the coquette collection

seasonal hats

ani's colour collection

improved and new hairstyles

kyuyas hairstyles pack

furniture

idalda furniture recolor

h&w outdoor furniture

h&w fairy garden furniture

west elm furniture

nano's retro style furniture

asters big furniture pack

gameplay / mechanics

cjb cheats menu (just to walk a little faster)

cjb show item sell price

greenhouse gatherers

craftable mushroom boxes

advanced casks

lumisteria serene meadow

growable forage and crop bushes

cornucopia more flowers / more crops

atelier wildflour crops and forage pack

wear more rings

tree transplant

passable crops

no fence decay redux

multi yield crops

crop fairy

challenging community center bundles

better chests

automate

spawn supply crates on beach

expanded storage

bigger backpack

blue eggs and golden mayo

better ranching

npc map locations

data layers

expansions

stardew valley expanded

east scarp / lurking in the dark / never ending adventure / always raining in the valley

lumisteria visit mount vapius

misc

jen's cozy cellar

cozy farmhouse kitchen

asters walls and floors megapack

wrens expanded greenhouse

cuter coops and better barns

nicer sewer

also recommended

hudson valley buildings

elle's seasonal buildings

seasonal fences

ridgeside village

immerisve farm map 2

[immoralimmortals]

Akatsuki Flowers! What a lovely ask. Let's look at your suggestions first:

Hidan, prince's feather:

Ohhhh immortality! I think that's perfect. Apparently a nickname for this flower is "kiss-me-over-the-garden-gate"

Deidara, buttercups:

Youth, joy, play, simple pleasures? Interesting choice, I can see why you went this direction! Matches his hair, too. It seems awfully innocent for him, I wonder if he'd disagree!

Deidara, australian rose:

A couple of results say "you are all that is lovely", and my gut tells me that may not be what you intend? But nevermind that LOOK HOW PRETTY IT IS

Anyhow!

I've used a little bit of flower symbolism, as you've probably guessed, for my fic! Red roses (and their various states of life, death, and preservation) and forget-me-nots are pretty obvious, though. But I used two others, hydrangeas, and daffodils, and they both suit Kisame!

Kisame, hydrangea, daffodil:

I picked a hydrangea festival, for one because it's a real thing that happens, and two, it means heartfelt emotion! I think Kisame feels with all of his being, intensely. He, as many people are not, is someone very aware that he is not always aware, if that makes sense; he is wary of the way his blood can boil, rage heating under the skin. Goes along with him not always feeling "human." Daffodil, the flower I used for the lotion in my fic, is in opposition as it stands for truth and honesty. We all know "truth" is sort of Kisame's thing. It's his pinnacle of morals, his reason for living, and then dying. I think it keeps him in line, too.

Itachi, white poppy:

Consolation, Rest, (Eternal) Sleep, Peace, Dormant Affection. He's a man that is a nice comparison and foil to Kisame, because like him, he feels deeply and has to deal with that in order to carry out his sacred duty. He is a man that wants peace, and with the short time he has on Earth tries to use it to redeem himself, his brother, the Uchiha name as well as he can, all the while dreaming that things will eventually go for the better. Dead man walking, a ghost with work to do.

Nagato, flowers of the elm tree:

Protection, Warn of Others, Purification of tainted areas. He protects his village by summoning rain, keeping watch of who even so much as whispers dissent. His land is pure. And he will purify the world. Perhaps it's a warning about him, too.

Konan, white rose:

Honestly this is a pretty predictable choice lol. I think she's emotionally...stagnant. In constant mourning, even if by her definition she's entirely moved on. Like Nagato, she takes her pain and uses it to continue, define her existence. She is the right hand, that which Pain uses to purify, an angel who does not boast of her power. She merely acts upon the will of that which justifies death.

Kakuzu, spruce, chamomile

Spruce: Eternal hardiness, Endurance, Symbol of North and Cold.

Chamomile: Patience, Attracts Wealth, Energy in Adversity

Yeah, I know spruce isn't technically a flower, but it's a growth on a tree and something you'll see in the language of flowers, so I'm using it. Kakuzu's ring, of course, means "north", and I honestly think it's fascinating to think of that in comparison to the north wind. He is a man as hardy and cold as the world he's trudged through. He's the definition of withstanding the worst, both physically and emotionally. The chamomile goes along with that, with a tenacity to make things work. You don't get to live to be 91 and still an active rogue ninja without a willingness to crack some eggs.

(also my art accounts are all chamomile-carillon or some variation. I love chamomile. And I love Kakuzu. yea)

Sasori, the four ancient poisons:

Aconite: Lustre (reflected light), Misanthropy

Hellebore: A Beautiful Year Ahead, Wit Relieve My Anxiety, Relieve my anxiety, tranquilize me

Hemlock:   You will cause my death

Nightshade: Truth, Silence; Your Thoughts are Dark ; Falsehood ; witchcraft/sorcery

I at first was just going for poison but all of these are PERFECT for him in their own right. Misanthropic man who wants to feel numb, wants to cause death and ultimately chooses to die. The contradiction of nightshade being both truth and falsehood...reminds me of how contradictory he is. A man who is trying to gain all the time in the world, absolutely impatient and unwilling to wait a second. Oh I can see the art for this in my head now....

Obito, love-lies-bleeding:

Love-lies-bleeding (Amaranthus): Desertion, Hopelessness, Constant, Unchangeable, Immortal or Unchangable Love, Immortality, Fidelity, Everlasting Friendship

This one just kind of has it all for him. The way everything good that ever happened to him left his world, his steeled resolve, his extended life via Madara's help, his love for Rin... Hoo.

Zetsu, two-bloomed green rose, dock flower, astilbe

Two-bloomed rose: Secrecy

Green rose: alien, strange, We Are Worlds Apart

Dock: patience

Astilbe (false goat's beard): I'll Still Be Waiting

He's really defined by his patience-- black Zetsu especially but white Zetsu was also playing the long game too, sticking around Obito since his childhood. The rose is pretty self-explanatory; he keeps a lot of secrets and he exists in a way that is very hard for others to comprehend. I figure he has difficulty understanding others, too.

[jonnysinsectcatalogue]

Question Mark - Polygonia interrogationis

To all fellow lovers of the insect world and those who are kind to bugs, with this post the blog now has 800 posts to its name! What a milestone to celebrate! I'm delighted to share all these brilliant animals with you and learn more about them with each new post. New species continue to join the blog, the last few months of posts have garnered well-deserved attention, older posts are experiencing a resurgence, and these insects are now shared on YouTube too! Here's to much more blog growth and expansion and to continue sharing insect photography with all of you, my dear readers! As always, to you and to and all those who’ve helped me on this insect journey, I extend my sincerest, heartfelt thanks for everything! As things grow, expand, refine and change, and questions abound over what may come next, I thought that this stunning summer Brush-Foot would be most appropriate to share today as #800. As a reminder, this specie's name is not a mystery, but rather based on the marking found on the underside of the hindwing (best seen on Picture 5).

The Question Mark's question mark marking is a stand out against the rest of the mottled underside that conceals this Butterfly as if it were a dried leaf. While normally cryptic colored, the sunlight shining down on this individual has caused the dorsal and ventral scales to blend together, obscuring the mottling against the display colors of the top (the effect is stronger on the forewings). This (along with mimicking the appearance of a leaf) is why Butterflies hold their wings together in order to remain inconspicuous. While this Butterfly isn't trying to remain hidden, I've last long last delivered on my promise in the previous post to feature this elusive insect. I have delivered a long awaited view of the dorsal side of this Butterfly's wings and am happy to share those beautiful, brassy-orange colors that highlight the summer. With a view like this, it should become apparent how similar the Question Mark can appear when compared to some of its punctuation-themed relatives such as the Eastern Comma (P. comma; yes, really), which necessitates a glance at the underwings to find that all-important marking.

The dorsal side of the wings can reveal other important information about your Butterfly find. For this individual, you may have noticed that while the forewings are vibrantly colored, the hindwings are darkened. This tell us that we are witnessing the summer brood form of this insect. This would certainly fit the emergence timeline which gives summer Question Marks a range of May to September to be seen in the air. From there, they lay eggs on elm trees and nettles which hatch and develop throughout the summer into the winter brood (overwinter brood may be a better name). Unlike the summer brood, winter brood Question Marks have vibrant orange and brown that extends into their hindwings as well. They also seem to have longer hindwing tails compared to the summer form, but I'll need to see a few more individuals in the wild before I can declare that with any certainty. These adults will fly from late August until temperatures fall, upon which they will seek out sights to overwinter as adults and begin the cycle anew with summer individuals like the one found in the yard for today's post. I hope fortune smiles upon you to find one of those (or perhaps their Caterpillars), but approach slowly, for they are quite skittish and swift!

Pictures were taken on June 23 and 25, 2024 with a Google Pixel 4. Happy 800th post! Thank you everyone for reading, watching and guiding my photography journey! I couldn't do this without you. And thank you to all the insects as well!

[dyannawynnedayne]

Round Three: Which Character Parallel Is Your Favorite?

Dunk and Brienne: art by @kraehenkunst (1, 2)

Cersei and Catelyn: art by @shripscapi (1, 2)

Dunk and Brienne

The Shield

The old man’s brown had always seemed drab to Dunk. “The field should be the color of sunset,” he said suddenly. “The old man liked sunsets. And the device…”“An elm tree,” said Egg. “A big elm tree, like the one by the pool, with a brown trunk and green branches.”“Yes,” Dunk said. “That would serve. An elm tree…but with a shooting star above. Could you do that?”The girl nodded. “Give me the shield. I’ll paint it this very night and have it back to you on the morrow.”

A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms: The Hedge Knight

 "Your door reminded me of an old shield I once saw in my father's armory." She described the arms as best she could recall them."[...]"You did beautifully," she said, when the woman showed her the freshly painted shield. It was more a picture than a proper coat of arms, and the sight of it took her back through the long years, to the cool dark of her father's armory. She remembered how she'd run her fingertips across the cracked and fading paint, over the green leaves of the tree, and along the path of the falling star.

AFFC, Brienne II

Cersei and Catelyn

Watched Their Sons Die

Boom, the drum sounded, boom doom boom doom. The old man’s lips went in and out. The knife trembled in Catelyn’s hand, slippery with sweat. “A son for a son, heh,” he repeated. “But that’s a grandson … and he never was much use.”A man in dark armor and a pale pink cloak spotted with blood stepped up to Robb. “Jaime Lannister sends his regards.” He thrust his longsword through her son’s heart, and twisted.Robb had broken his word, but Catelyn kept hers. She tugged hard on Aegon’s hair and sawed at his neck until the blade grated on bone. Blood ran hot over her fingers. His little bells were ringing, ringing, ringing, and the drum went boom doom boom.

ASOS, Catelyn VII

When he heard Cersei’s scream, he knew that it was over.I should leave. Now. Instead he waddled toward her.His sister sat in a puddle of wine, cradling her son’s body. Her gown was torn and stained, her face white as chalk. A thin black dog crept up beside her, sniffing at Joffrey’s corpse. “The boy is gone, Cersei,” Lord Tywin said. He put his gloved hand on his daughter’s shoulder as one of his guardsmen shooed away the dog. “Unhand him now. Let him go.” She did not hear.

ASOS, Tyrion VIII

[nocturnal-milk-dud]

Spooky Season ask

Bishop Losa - What we do in the shadows

Ray Merriman - Nightmare on elm street

The Punisher - Werewolf

all smut 🫠😂

I am very very sorry for how long you've had to wait for these. I've had a very hard time writing, and for a while, with all the awful shit going on around the world, I didn't see much point in writing anything. I hope you like it. My plan for the other two is to post them and tag you, as I haven't written those yet.

The Moon is Dead but She Still Pulls on Me

Pairing: Frank Castle × Reader

Warnings/Notes: I'm rusty, I apologize. NC-17 18+ Only; violence; blood; smut (of the monster variety); public sex; oral; really hope you're into it I'm so sorry if not

Word count: ~1100

You close the shackle around Frank's wrist, making him wince.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“It's okay.” Your fingers slide down over his palm.

“What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” you ask, knowing he'll be hungry and trying to distract him. He leans forward, as if to kiss you, but the tip of his nose brushes down the length of your neck, his beard tickling your skin and you hear him pull in a long, deep breath. The warmth from his sigh spreads over your skin, pools in your belly. You don't need to hear his answer to know what he wants. Your breath passes in a shudder.

“Pancakes then,” you say, breaking the heavy silence.

“Eggs too,” Frank says. “Bacon maybe.” His eyes are hungry.

“Omelette? Mushrooms and jalapeños?” Frank lets out a grunt of approval.

“Coffee too,” he says.

“Of course.” The clouds break and cool stretches of moonlight reach through the barn slats. There isn't much time and you shouldn't linger. The look in Frank's eyes and the way his body trembles tells you as much.

“You should go.” Frank's voice is rough, stretched tight. You place a gentle kiss on his lips, taste the sweat forming on his skin, and rest your forehead against his.

“I'll see you in the morning.” The words are an order, an expectation. He'll be himself again.

The air in the house is stale and you open a bedroom window. The smell of oncoming rain carries in on a gust that flutters the curtains, and it's not long before you're asleep.

Wood splinters, glass shatters, a howl tears through the silence and rips you from your sleep. You nearly trip running to the window. The back door to the barn hangs torn and broken on its hinges and a large dark figure darts into the woods. Your heart thuds in a panic.

“Shit!” You snatch the flashlight and tranq gun off your nightstand and follow.

You should have put on shoes. And pants. Hunting a werewolf in the middle of the night in nothing but an oversized tee suddenly doesn't seem like the brightest idea. It had rained while you slept and the ground is soft mud under your feet. Wet leaves brush against your legs. Your eyes scan the trees, your head turns at every rustle, every snap of a twig, and you try to control your breathing.

The two of you had talked about this, planned for it. You'd practiced with the tranq gun until the use of it became second nature, but it's as if your brain has been wiped clean. The gun feels awkward in your sweaty palm.

Something moves to your right. You turn, training your flashlight beam on the disturbed foliage, but nothing's there. Not anymore. In the mud you find tracks too big to belong to any animal. The silence is oppressive, and your stomach tangles itself in knots.

“Please don't let my boyfriend gut me in the woods behind our house,” you whisper before moving deeper into the dark.

The tracks end in the middle of a clearing. The moonlight makes the tall slick grass look like a lake of silver. Your eyes search the clearing, the treeline, before turning to the sky. The moon sits heavy and solemn, a silent observer.

“He's a good man,” you whisper to it, as if that makes any difference.

A low growl sends you spinning, searching, and you realize you fucked up. You're exposed and the grass suddenly seems too tall. You start slowly toward the treeline, watching the grass around you for any signs of movement. Every muscle in your body wants to run, your brain screams for it, run for the house, run to safety. Instead you place your feet carefully and hold your breath.

Something blocks out the moon, casting the earth around you into darkness. The skin at the back of your neck prickles and icewater floods your veins.

He's behind you.

You tighten your grip on the tranq gun, wishing you’d wiped the sweat off your hands. You turn with the gun raised and fire. The wolf--Frank--catches your arm with his, knocking the shot wide and sending the gun flying. His claws slash you across the chest, tearing through your shirt and skin. You stumble, tripping over your own feet, and land hard on your back, the impact knocking the air out of you. The ground shakes as his clawed hands come down heavily on either side of you. Frank's face is close to yours as he growls low in his throat. His lips pull back with the sound, revealing sharp teeth eager to devour you.

“Frank,” you say, clear and loud, holding his gaze--his eyes the only part of him you recognize. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and your shredded skin is burning, but you swallow your fear. You have to be calm, you have to trust. “Frank Castle.” It's a call and you pray he hears it. You think you see a flash of recognition in his eyes. He leans in towards your neck and you squeeze your eyes shut, preparing yourself for the pain. There's another rumble of sound deep in his chest. It sounds like thunder and you feel his hot breath on your skin. You hear a sharp sniff and risk turning your head, glancing down. He's smelling you, breathing you in deep like he does before every transformation. He's remembering you. The breath you don't realize you’re holding leaves your lungs in a shaky sigh. A quick flash of lightning rips across the sky and a warm, gentle rain starts to fall. Frank gives your neck a slow lick and you run a hand through his fur, the adrenaline seeping out of your body and into the ground.

He knows you, you're safe.

“Frank,” you whisper, and he whines softly in response, nuzzling your neck. You close your eyes, fingers curling in his fur. His hands find the tear in your shirt and rip the fabric further, exposing your body to the night. He licks the wound at your chest with his rough, warm tongue and the pain dissipates, the bleeding stops. Lightning and thunder split the sky and the rain starts to pour as he moves down your body, positioning his great head between your thighs. The languid strokes of his tongue make you writhe, make you moan. Another flash of lightning illuminates Frank's eyes, holding you in their hungry gaze and you let your head fall back against the muddy earth, moaning his name, begging for more. You're eager to take him and when he pulls away you turn over. Your fingers sink into the mud as he sinks into you. He's rough and fast, and his hand finds your neck, pulling you up to meet his chest. There's a rumble in his chest to rival the thunder when he comes. The tension in you snaps and your body shudders, warmth flooding your thighs. You fall limp against him as the rain cools your skin, and the two of you remain like that until your breathing settles.

Frank lays you on the grass and curls behind you, pulling you into the safety of his arms, the warmth of his chest, and the two of you fall asleep under the watchful eye of the moon.

[lya-dustin]

All is Bliss

Chapter 51

Cw: mentions of blood sacrifices, bullying, and murder

Gif by @beyondtheciouds

Taglist @mercedesdecorazon @ewanmitchellcrumbs @darylandbethfanforever9 @watercolorskyy @alexandria-millie @sweethoneyblossom1

Aegon remembers all the times he teased Aemond over his egg not hatching.

Its had been a smoky gray with red flecks given to him by Laenor and clutchmate to Jace's Vermax and Aemma’s annoying little dwarf dragon, Elēnar.

It had a name, some name that was meant to inspire fear, but made Aegon want to bully him some more.

Once mama caught him offering his blood to it after Aegon told him to, father had shouted at Aegon, taken Aemond aside and given him Barth's book on dragons while mother shouted at father for shouting at him only to slap him when she turned to yell at him, and he pointed it out.

Now as the king tries to make a second Sunfyre for himself, he finds himself looking for the dragonglass dagger Aemma keeps under her pillow for her protection.

They haven’t slept in the same bed since he was poisoned, mainly because he finds it gross as she told him she is to bleed for the forty days after the birth. Aemma had about a week or so to go and appreciated having the bed to herself.

She keeps busy, restless in her cage like the dragon she is and much like Silverwing, she does a good job of pretending she is fine as she is.

This morning he finds her reading her correspondence and having a late breakfast. She wears lilac today, brings out the purple of her eyes and matched the tie at the end of her long braid.

“What are you up to this morning, dear wife?” he asks completely forgetting what he came here for.

Aemma was always lovely, sure she was not the most beautiful, but she was kind and good company and had the old blood of Valyria running through her veins just like him. It would be nice to see her fly again, to see her throw her head back and laugh as Silver’s wingtips skim the ocean.

Once Baratheon wins this war for them, he will give her the freedom to fly again.

Of course, not often because it would look wrong when the king had no dragon of his own.

“Just some letters, Aunt Elenda wants me to take my cousins into our household, apologizes for the whole trying to drug me and almost killing your brother the night before his wedding, oh, and wants to confirm if Uncle Borros is still the man you want as Aenys’ godsfather.” She said showing him the letter as if he would doubt her word.

Aegon trusts her, a stupid thing to do, but he knows Aemma would never hurt him nor try to kill him. He quite likes her, finds himself missing waking up to her in the mornings.

“Tyland suggested him, I guess he had sent the letters already. I know you wanted Aemond to be Aenys’ godsfather, but we can keep Baratheon loyal to us without promising him a royal groom.” Aegon admits knowing why she wants Aemond to be made the babe’s godsfather. If either were to die, Aemond would be the man to raise Aenys as one would a son, if he was close to the boy no one would be suspicious of it and his overly familiar way with his wife not be too obvious.

The reason Aegon readily agreed to make Borros his godsfather.

Besides, Aemond fled Crossed Elms like a coward claimed to have dragon dreams knowing those tree worshiping cunts would believe him. Had he fought they would have won the battle, his brother just won’t admit it. Claims that the fucking riverlords had archers and the commanders too experienced for them to do more than to wave a peace banner and hope for the best.

If he had been there and had Sunfyre, the Riverlands would have burned, and he’d be a fucking warrior king like the conqueror.

Instead, he is here, stuck in this castle because he has been unmanned by his wife’s own fucking grandmother and humiliated by his own little brothers. Even Daeron went down as Daeron the Daring as he died like a man should.

When Borros comes, Aegon intends to lead the battle. He did it once and his sword arm is strong enough to fight, how hard could it be? And what better way to announce it than by entering the tourney.

“I suppose you are right, husband, especially because it will remind people that both your mother and my great-grandfather were brown of hair and eye. A shame Borros refused Cousin Joffrey, we could have had the Vale and Aunt Jeyne would be here to show she also has brown hair.” Aemma pretends it doesn’t bother her. Does a great deal of that since they married, Aegon wondered if one day she will like him and trust him like he trusts her.

He envies Aemond for getting to see the true Aemma, not the poised lady hiding her dragon’s blood underneath silks and brocade.

Aegon would’ve preferred Daeron had been the one to return and not Aemond. Daeron didn’t steal his wife’s heart from under his nose.

“If anyone dares to insinuate you cuckolded me, I will have their heads, dear Aemma. I plan on making sure they get the message at Aenys’ anointing next week.”

“Harwin used to have the worst nightmares as a boy, always dreaming he and father were burning to death and Larys’ laughing as he stood outside the door.” Alys speaks softly as she nursed Aenys.

The babe had been small and frail when he was born and yet the moment Alys became his nurse that night, he awoke as healthy as if he had not been born early. Her witch’s blood refused to let her create new life but made her able to nourish life that already existed.

“I had nothing to do with their deaths.” The queen mother says even though she remembers asking Larys to do what he must to bring her father back to court. Larys had been using her, like all men have done, and yet this time she had the power to say no.

But she hadn’t said no.

Instead, she prayed for forgiveness and put it out of her mind when word of their deaths came just as the raven from Daemon did.

“Just because you say it outloud does not make it true, your grace.” The witch chides her like a mother does to lying child. “I know you agreed to it for your cause.”

“Then why join me? Why kill Harwin’s lover and his sons?” the queen asked hoping that was the answer as to why everything had gone wrong.

“To get to Larys, to have the Blacks kill all those who stand between me and Harrenhal. I work the corridors of self-interest just as anyone here. Now with the war lost and my dear little brother getting his comeuppance, you are of no use to me ,your grace.” The witch said as if it were just something trivial that had failed and not a system of governance.

As if it was always meant to fall.

“You said it was Aegon’s destiny to be king!” the queen cannot comprehend why Alicent would make her do such things if it had not been meant to happen.

“And it was, I never said for how long. Two years is more than Aegon the Uncrowned got.” Alys put the babe in his basket without burping him first and went to stand by the window.

Why did no one else seem to care about this more? Why did no one see that for her family to be safe, Aegon needs to be king and her as his right hand?

Aemma had poisoned her sons against her an now her most trusted ally is led astray by her.

“Oh, no, the little queen did not seduce me from your side, your grace. Our paths are no longer aligned. You stand at the end of your road while I still have so far to go.” the witch answered as if she had spoken aloud.

“You tricked me! You had me sell my soul to the Stranger and damn myself to the Seventh Hell!” Alicent begins to see her with horror.

And yet the witch just stands there by the open window as if nothing was happening.

It would be so easy to kill her. She could lie and say she was going to hurt the little bastard, that she cast a spell on him and she as his grandmother only meant to save him.

Alys would die instantly on the spikes in the dry moat, no one would know.

What is one more kill?

“You said you would do anything to make Aegon king, you agreed to the price, your grace.” Alys coos at her making the queen mother snap and barrel towards her like an angry bull.

Just over the window.

That is all she needs.

And yet when they stand over the edge, Alys overpowers her and instead, Alicent is forced to look down at her grave.

“Now be a good girl for mummy and pay it.” The witch whispers in her ear like a lover and tosses her over the edge as if she weighed as much as little Aenys.

[gellavonhamster]

wip tuesday (tagged by @littlestsnicket, thank you <3)

a rare case when I actually have a WIP to offer, being in the process of translating another thing into English (at the very beginning of the process, so I don't have that much of the fic ready + will probably edit everything over and over again because every time I translate my writing, I am overcome with Oh No This Is Not How People Speak)

One Piece (Punk Hazard specifically) spoilers below:

His own lack of strength filled him with rage. After that failure of a fight with Doflamingo, which made him feel like an egg in an egg slicer, he was all covered in thin scars that kept opening up here and there for the first few days. By now they were already healing, but the constant pain was still there, just less intense. That could not have been more inconvenient at the time when the entire base had come under his command, and on top of that, had become a temporary home to a pack of brats they had to ship to Vegapunk. When Tashigi dropped by the infirmary that morning, she mentioned she was trying to contact the families to inform them that their missing children had been found, were in the care of the Marines, and were to return home in the near future if all went well. What made the task more difficult was that some kids couldn’t really explain where they were from. Where do you live? With Mama. And what’s the name of the island? I dunno. Can you describe it? It has those trees, and a beach. All in all, that was not the time to lie up. A separate, particularly virulent sort of rage came from realizing just how much he fucked up. Serving under a spy for two years and having no damn clue. Throwing his lot with pirates again – that crazy kid must think they’re bosom friends at this point. Losing to that vile cackling kingling in pink feathers, a government-sanctioned thug, an asshole drunk on impunity. If not for Kuzan, he would have stayed there, in the snow. And until he was back on duty, he was going to be of as much use as he would have been if he had. Dammit.

tagging @patron-saints, @enchi-elm and whoever else who wants to do this (as always, feel free to ignore if you don't want to answer)

[freya-captain]

Dear anon, I was fucked by Tumblr

and deleted your ask by accident (bc I found sth missing in my post) So allow me to post it here and hope you could see this...

So basically the question was about although Jacegon know they love each other aegon know that Jace would always choose duty over him. So here's what I write based on this:

I do believe there's a sense of destined tragedy haunting the ship. I wrote something alike before about Jace being uncontrollably in love with Aegonsince childhood, but his feelings were shattered to pieces after him usurping the throne. When he returned from Winterfell, he sneaked into the capital to see Aeg for the last time and say goodbye (in cruel words) to him.

The clip belowis also part of that story when they were still together, both of them young and knowing nothing about the tragic fate that will befall them. But Aeg already knew something.

Warning: NSFW 18+

Pairing: Jacaerys/Aegon ii

Words: 1.1k

The royal and noble lords' hunting party rested in their fancy tents by the campfire. But they sneaked out into the dark and hid under a large elm tree far side of the Kingswood. The night breeze was cool and sent up the scent of pollen. The soft spring grass tickled their bare skin.

Their armor and woolen sweaters had been left behind in the camp. They couldn't risk building a fire either. "I’m fucking cold," the prince whined.

He unzipped his velvet coat so the spoiled prince could huddle in his arms. A shooting star streaked across the sky.

"Look, Egg." He pointed to the stars.

The prince rode on his lap, biting his neck and nibbling on his ear, and answered half-heartedly, "Look at what?"

"A shooting star just crossed over our tree."

"Star above an elm tree — sounds like the family sigil of some lousy knight." The silver-haired prince used his mouth to undo the buttons on his shirt which was adorned with a three-headed dragon, a cold hand creeping up on the younger's collarbones.

He was impassive, concentrating on studying the stars with his head tilted back.

The prince pouted for his neglect, but quickly figured out a way to chase his own fun. The older plopped the body down, untied the lacing, and licked his cock eagerly till it got thick and hard.

He finally stopped looking at the stars and ran his hand through the choppy, wavy hair, "Want to be fucked by me that bad, huh?"

The prince pulled the length covered in spit out of his mouth and sat up straight to kiss him, muffling his trash before he could say more. He laughed softly into the silver-haired's mouth and said nothing else, focusing on rubbing the prince's entrance and pushing himself in.

The prince drew back a few breaths after a particularly deep thrust, "Did it hurt?".

The silver-haired shook his head and panted, brokenly, “It’s almost like......like riding a horse."

He stared at the pretty face for a moment, admiring the prince's thirsty expression. Then suddenly he pinched him around the waist and powered up, fucking him so fast and deep, "Almost like riding a horse, you say?"

The prince let out a few uncontrolled lustful moans and immediately bit his lips. The guards could very likely be patrolling nearby. His fingers tightened around his shoulders, "More, more like riding a dragon ......"

"You are always desperate to ride dragons, day or night." He teased in exchange for a glare. But the anger quickly faded when he paced up and hit the spot every time. The prince grabbed him by the hair and was soon crying and groaning loudly over the violent bumps. Warmth returned to their bodies and the prince flushed beautifully.

"Keep your voices down, uncle. People may find out." He warned with a teasing tune.

"They won't. And if they did, they wouldn't..." He trailed off, and caught his breath again, "They wouldn't dare to say anything."

"You wanna be my whore so bad, don't you? That you actually want to be found out." He attacked even harder, burying himself deep inside the sweet wet-ass walls.

The prince moaned loudly, legs shaking. He was lost in pleasure too much to care about anything happening around them, "Yes, let me be your whore...God, it feels so good."

"I won't exactly call myself that." He teased, "Do you want me to finish inside, my slutty little whore?"

The older's voice was shaky and sobbing, "Yes, please. Let me have your seeds. Let me have all of them. Jace, Jacaerys..."

"I'm gonna fucking breed you." He gritted his teeth. He loved the way the prince called out his name hopelessly, "I'm gonna fill my pups into you. Would you like it that way?"

"Yes, yes. I'm so close, Jace." The silver-haired started to stroke his cock, "I'm, I'm about to cum."

"Then come." He wrapped his hand around his and stroked him until they both spilled.

Aegon tilted his head and let out a long breath.

"Egg," Jacaerys called him by his nickname, "Are you satisfied with this dragon?"

Aegon rested his chin on his broad shoulder, "My dragon." He said in Valyrian smiley.

Jace turned his face sideways, their cheeking pressing against each other, "Yours." He replied in their mother tongue as well.

He ducked a strand of his silver hair behind his ear, "You're so beautiful." He said, looking at him the same way he looked at the stars.

"You always say that to the girls after you've finished your fucking?" Aegon gave him a teasing look and got off of him.

Jacaerys frowned, "What girls?"

"Whores, maids, noble ladies, Baela..." He enumerated offhandedly as he put on his clothes back.

"Don't let Daemon hear what you just said."

"I am not THAT stupid. " Aegon said as he lay upon his chest, looking up at the night sky. Their fingers were entwined.

"How was she to kiss anyway?"

"How could I know? I've never kissed her before." Jace paused for a moment, "I've never kissed anyone before."

Aegon giggled as if he'd heard the court jester's funniest joke.

"I wasn't joking. I love you and you only." The young lover said in a particularly solemn voice.

"Uh-huh."

"No matter what happens, I always love you and hold on to you, I promise."

Aegon kept laughing until he was limp, which disturbed Jace a lot. Before he could protest, Aegon spoke up, "Can you promise me another thing, my love?"

"Yes?"

"Never say things like this to me again."

"You don't believe me?" Jace felt a bit hurt, “I meant what I said.”

"I believe every word of yours. But, ” He sounded weirdly sad, “it would kill me to think that one day you’ll tell others the same, telling them 'I miss you', telling them 'I always love you'".

"That's not fair." He wanted to say. But he remained speechless. He could only sit and watch as Aegon fell asleep. He could only sit and watch as his figure became transparent and faded in the air. He could only sit and watch as fate whistled past and took him away from him.

He would be betrothed to Baela to strengthen his mother's claim. He would declare war against the Green to revenge on his brother. He would call Aegon a traitor and usurper as if they were born enemies. He would hope to slaughter him himself and watch him burn in hell because he would burn right beside him. He just didn't know it yet at that time, a time as beautiful and fragile as crystal. But Aegon knew it better.

Even on their best days, he knew.

That they could never be. That it will never be.

[feraligatrfangs]

The dinner party

Brainblast here. I believe the dinner is going well.

<An audio clip is attached.>

<The clip opens with the clink of a dish against the table.

"Bon appetit!" Sadie says.

"Ooh, garlic bread!" Addie exclaims. "You rule, Sadie!"

"Thank [Fang], they did all the work!" Sadie replies.

"The garlic bread looks delicious,[Fang]," a male voice adds.

Fang squeaks. "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ."

"Pass the parmesan, [Tree]?" Matt asks.

There is no talking for a minute, only utensils clinking and chewing, as people begin eating.

"So, [Tree], [Fang] told me you're majoring in Pokemon development. Is that why you moved out here to work under Elm?" Sadie asks.

"Mhm. The Professor's work with unusual Eggs is fascinating, and when a posting came to work as a junior lab assistant, I had to apply."

"Isn't your old school super astronomy-focused, anyway?" Addie says. "Makes sense to me that you'd transfer."

"Space not your cup of tea?" Matt asks.

"I don't mind it at all, but the University of Veilstone is very dedicated to studying the abundance of extraterrestrial material in the city, and as such, my advisor thought it would be better to transfer and save on travel costs."

Sadie hums in thought. "I've seen the professor around the Radio Tower, but I don't really know him. What's working with him like?"

"Very interesting. I'm around eggs that I've never seen before, constantly studying differing developmental stages, and caring for a wide variety of Pokemon. It's a great learning experience. ...I will also say that I am greatly valued in an organization capacity."

Fang snorts.

Sadie hums in understanding. "Filing duty, I'm familiar."

"He got the file pile below his head, even!" Fang adds.

"It's possible that there are things in the records room that not even Uxie can recall anymore..." Tree says, with an air of long-suffering horror.>

Tree has an approximate 65% success rate with his jokes, he was unfailingly polite, and he tried one of the hamantaschen that wasn't chocolate filled (and ate seven chocolate hamantaschen). By human courting standards, I believe this is an above-average performance.

[amalia-uwu]

S K Ó L I X

ΣΚΏΛΗΞ

I DONT OWN -> Undertale, Horrortale, Farmtale, the rights go to the respective owners. I only own my original characters and this fic.

Undertale by Toby Fox

Horrortale by Sour Apple Studios

Farmtale by GuinongTale_AU

Cover

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 (you are here) | Chapter 9

Warnings ⚠️: angst, unrealistic medical stuff, inaccurate medical stuff

(Next morning)

Papyrus opened his eye sockets.

He rose from bed and stretched.

In all honesty last night was... Quite adventurous...

He checked his phone and read the notifications. Martha had texted him.

He checked the time.

12.00 o' clock.

Martha🌻 has sent messages.

6.00 am

Martha🌻 sent: «Good morning Papyrus! How are you all? How is your brother? I just wanted to let you know that, I took care of your animals today, Lily, Pearl are such sweethearts!

I fed the chickens, picked up some eggs, fed the sheeps, your cattles and cows and the rest of the animals».

9.30 am

Martha🌻 sent: «I checked around the field and picked up some vegetables.

The vegetables and eggs are in the cabinet/closet outside your home (the one close to the door), first shelf! I hope I did well!»

11.30 am

Martha🌻 sent: «May I help you with anything else? Don't hesitate to text me, even.. call me if necessary! I am willing to assist you! All you have to do is ask!»

.

.

.

*. *. *. *.

Martha was having her coffee break, sitting at her patio.

Butterflies, birds and bees flew around.

It was a little windy today so her flowers waved in the wind.

Some birds were singing on the trees. Her phone buzzed,

«Hm?».

Papyrus 🧡 sent messages

12.30 pm

Papyrus 🧡 sent: «Good morning Martha! Yesterday was a long day.. but the difficult part is over. We are doing quite well! I don't know when they will release him... Prepare yourself for some tea when we return!»

12.32 pm

Papyrus 🧡 sent: «Thank you for checking up on us and taking care of our animals and crops for us! At the moment you did more than enough! Thank you! When Sans gets out of here we will have tea and I'll make that pie you like so much! Likewise, if you need anything please let me know! Have a great morning!»

Martha smiled, she didn't know what to say so, she just text

12.34 pm

Martha🌻 sent: «Everything is going to be okay! Honey! Oh! Of course! I'll be waiting! ;) xoxo ».

Papyrus smiled. He set his phone down and got dressed.

Axe sat on bed, he rubbed his skull and eye socket. He had the same tired look just like Papyrus.

Axe smiled softly, Papyrus did the same.

They took a shower, ate some lunch and took some painkillers.

They had quite a headache.

(Back to Ophelia)

After what he went through, she didn't have the heart to wake him up. She checked him and added some more medicines in the IV.

She, therefore decided to cure his voice.

She took a bowl and added: warm water, licorice, slippery elm, osha root and a little bit of chamomile.

She crashed/mixed them together creating something like a clay.

She entered his room and using a soft brush, she spread the clay  around his neck. Then added a gauze to keep it in place.

Her plan is to use this again in the afternoon.

See how it goes.

She injected vitamins and calcium in the IV throughout the day. The dark veins like spots had dissappeared.

She noticed the crack on his shoulder and added an ointment.

(at around 16.00 pm)

Papyrus and Axe arrived.

Each of them were holding 2 straw baskets with some herbs and vegetables.

The crew took them with gratitude. Ophelia was in her office, reading a a book on how to cure Sans's vision.

Papyrus entered holding the straw basket.

She smiled "Thank you Harvey!". Papyrus smiled back "It's always a pleasure!"

Agatha went to check Sans's statistics. His HP was slowly rising.

When he first came here days ago his was close to dying. However now little by little his energy and HP were slowly getting stronger and stronger.

(Another note: Ophelia has helped his HP a lot. She has helped him rise it.

Despite the health problems he had as a child, she helped him overcome some issues / stabilize them /make them a little better).

.

.

.

.

Papyrus and Axe entered the room.

They saw that he was still sleeping. They carefully caressed his face and decided to leave him rest.

They went for a walk around the clinic.

Agatha entered quietly and gently applied the clay on Sans's neck again.

She looked at the spot on his neck, it was healing nicely.

She checked again the breathing equipment.

Okay, it was the right dose. She will remove that in a while.

She injected some calcium on the IV, wrote some notes and exited the room.

Around 18.00 o clock.

Agatha entered quietly.

Agatha checked the breathing equipment. She wrote some notes.

Agatha, then carefully removed it from his face. She put it back to its place.

Agatha injected some more medicines, vitamins and calcium in the IV. She exited the room.

Just as she exited the room and left.

Papyrus and Axe entered.

She saluted them and they saluted back.

....

(minutes later)

Sans moved his head left and right. His eyes narrowed. Sans felt two hands on his.

He felt like his skull was stuffed in cotton.

He heard voices calling him "Sans?", "Brother?"

He tried to speak but his voice came out hoarse and low.

"Pap...yrus.. A..xe..."

Papyrus looked at Axe, both their eyes sparkled with happiness.

Papyrus, hearing his brother's voice felt his soul fly high. A strong weight left his shoulders.

Truth be told; they were afraid... That they might never hear his voice again.

Papyrus and Axe hugged each other in pure joy.

"Sans...? How is your vision?" Papyrus asked.

"same, cloudy with black spots here and there".

Just then Ophelia entered the room she as well looked a bit better.. "How is our patient?" she asked.

"Heya Ophelia". He smiled weakly

She injected some nutrients in his IV.

Due to all this, he had no appetite. "I see your voice is slowly returning, I'll use this clay one more time".

Sans nodded "Thank you.." he grinned woozy.

"Don't mention it Farmy!" she smiled.

She gently applied the clay around his neck and tied it with a gauze.

The spot, where the Skólix had bitten him, was healing. Slowly but nicely.

The inflammation was no longer there.

....

(For the next few hours)

Papyrus and Axe took turns in carefully moving Sans's limbs according to Ophelia's orders. [in order to help his magic flow through his joints].

They opened and closed Sans's phalanges.

They moved his limbs up and down, left and right, circular motions.

Papyrus held him upright and Axe moved his legs up and down. They leaned his limbs.

Papyrus was slightly concerned at how light he was. He had lost a lot of magic. The last few days he couldn't even eat properly.

He was lost in thoughts. Axe gently touched his shoulder and Sans tenderly caressed his ulna and radius.

Axe smiled softly and nodded. Papyrus turned Sans so he could see his face.

Sans smiled, his eyes were unfocused.

Papyrus brought him closer and gave him a hug.

Sans weakly hugged him back. Sans felt the tears on his shoulder. Saejun said nothing. Saejun let Papyrus cry.

Sans only hugged him and caressed his shoulder blades. His soul shone and flourished Papyrus's and Axe's soul with positive warm feelings.

Papyrus and Sans stayed there hugging each other.

No words were spoken.

....

(Some time later)

Ophelia entered in holding bathing equipment; a herbal/medical shower gel, brushes, sponges etc.

"I think he is ready for a nice bath" She informed. Papyrus took the equipment and went to the bathroom.

Axe carefully picked up Sans and followed Papyrus.

Axe whispered "It's okay, we are just gonna give you a nice warm bath hm?" he gave him a soft kiss on his skull. Sans nodded and hugged him tighter.

Papyrus opened the faucet and carefully set it to warm water.

He waited for the tub to be filled a little.

Axe had wrapped Sans with a fluffy towel and his jacket to keep him warm.

Papyrus checked the water again. It was alright.

He looked at Axe and nodded.

Axe carefully set Sans down and removed Sans's clothing.

He then let him in the bathtub.

Papyrus and Axe gently held him.

Little by little Axe threw water in his back, ribs etc.

Papyrus took the herbal bath foam and made foam. He took a piece of cloth and gently spread the foam. He took a soft sponge and rubbed Sans's bones.

He stopped to see if Sans's was okay. Was he being too rough?

Sans gently squeezed his hand.

Axe took the sponge and cleaned his other side. His humerus, pelvis, legs and ribs.

...

Well... They were extra careful at the lower ribs.. Sans was ticklish..

Of course he let out some soft giggles when they reached there but they were careful.

Axe and Papyrus took a brush and started brushing his bones and joints. They rinsed with warm water.

Once they reached his pelvis, he got a little shy. His blushed and turned his face away.

Axe noticed and blushed himself «he looks so cute» he thought.

Sans couldn't help his purring, it was low and soft.

Papyrus and Axe smiled. Another sound they missed.

They put the brushes away. They used the sponge and foam one more time.

Axe held his humeri high.

Papyrus rinsed his bones.

Axe carefully held him upwards and Papyrus rinsed the remaining foam.

Axe wrapped him in a towel and lifted him out of the tub.

They dried him clean by patting and rubbing the fluffy towel on his bones.

Papyrus took a herbal lotion and tenderly spread it on Sans's bones.

They dressed him in forest green pants and shirt (clothes Papyrus brought from home).

Axe carried him in his embrace and took him to bed.

Sans nuzzled his cheekbone on Axe's shoulder and neck.

Axe smiled and softly blushed. His cheekbones and bridge of his nasal cavity turned into a soft beetroot reddish color.

Axe gave Sans's soft kisses on his cheekbone and forehead.

Sans had his one hand on Papyrus's shoulder. Papyrus smiled and held it.

Ophelia came to fix the IV.

Axe gave them to him.

Axe carefully laid Sans on bed. She gently fixed the IV, wrote some notes and exited the room.

She returned later with some chamomile and pills.

Papyrus read him a book about flowers and their meaning.

Sans was listening contently.

Axe held his hand making soft circular motions with his thump and guided his hands in the touching parts of the book .

At around 22.00 o' clock Papyrus and Axe had to leave from the clinic.

A part of them didn't want to leave him alone... but, they had to go.

Sans spoke quietly "See you tomorrow, You two take some rest; I'll be fine"

They nodded. Papyrus and Axe gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

They walked a little further and Axe teleported them back home.

.

.

Today was slightly better. Sans found his voice, they heard his purring. He was getting better. Little by little.

They took a shower, ate and went to sleep.

Bad thoughts were entering Papyrus's mind.

«What if something else happens again? What if he never sees again? What i- no. No! Everything will be alright».

They closed their eyes and fall asleep.

.

.

END OF CHAPTER 8

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

[thefilmharpy]

Chasing July: A Short Story

All my problems went away the day I discovered you could take people like drugs. Of course, Harold would probably have said that all my problems started that day, but what the fuck does he know?

You can take one look at Harold and know he hasn't known joy a day in his life. 

I’m good at sizing people up, it’s a skill I’ve honed over the years. I had this very strong sense about Harold right from the start based on nothing more than his gray suit jacket and shoes. 

When he was a little kid, and I was absolutely certain of this, Harold's parents had never bothered to lie to him about things like Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.

Little magical things like the Easter Bunny and fairy rings and your face getting stuck that way if you hold a silly expression for too long. The sort of bullshit only kids believe and need to believe for as long as they're allowed to stay kids. 

All of this had been denied to poor Harold. Wherever he'd learned about Santa Clause or jinxes and fairy rings, maybe from TV or friends at school, his parents had quickly made sure to kibosh the whole notion. 

Your parents buy your Christmas presents and your grandmother hid those eggs at Easter. The stump in the backyard is the corpse of a diseased elm tree, not a fairy ring. Your face won't get stuck that way, but you look ridiculous while making it. 

Knowing these things from maybe as early as five years old had done quite the number on Harold. You might think I've got no way to know any of that, and maybe you're right, but if you'd seen his loafers you'd probably be agreeing with me. 

Read the Full Story

[alphareleasemedia]

Insects -- George Macbeth

I swat my forehead, I scratch at my ankles, Mole and wart, and a rash that rankles.

Everything flying, and scraping, and biting, And wens and ringworm, canker and blighting.

It's become the season of webs and itch, Mites in the treacle, worms in the ditch.

It's become the season of mold and flies, And of snails and spiders with bulging eyes.

With buzz and hum, and with chuckle and whine, The flappers and creepers crawl in to dine.

On scrapes of our butter, on cheekbone and crumb, They batten and guzzle, then bite my thumb.

I hear them sizzle on leg or wing Then flutter or hiss to the cornice and sing.

The drawing room walls are alive with sound Like the dying elms out there on the mound.

With the twitter of martins, and caw of rooks. But here I have hornets, with stings like hooks,

And drunken wasps, and belligerent bees, Drone on carpets that jump with fleas.

Enough of September. Let weather chill And a drizzle of bright hail spatter each sill.

Let sleet and fogginess bother their hives And their haunts in trees. Let them hide for their lives.

No more mosquitoes, no daddy-long-legs, And no more moths with their eating eggs.

Nothing that whistles, and nothing that chews, And nothing that scuttles, or weaves in my shoes.

I'm sick of the lot of them, squirmy or stealing Over the window and up to the ceiling, They give me a horrible dirty feeling.

So spray the powder and pull the chain, Let cold October drown them in rain

And then November, with ice and mist, Throttle the rest in a choking fist.

It serves them right if, by late December, Insect is a word I don't remember.

[bllsbailey]

Why Would Anybody Vote for Her?

As the election draws closer, I am seeing Harris/Walz signs on lawns as I drive to work. And the number seems to have grown a little in the last few weeks. I drive through an old, established neighborhood in St. Louis called Webster Groves during my commute. Turn-of-the-century Victorians with wrap-around porches and giant elm trees line Elm Street (of course) as you drive through it. It's a nice area. I kind of wish I lived there sometimes.

To live in Webster Groves, you probably need to be a doctor, lawyer, or a business owner. It's not cheap. Having had a good education is probably the prerequisite to the career that provides the income to afford living there. I doubt there are many blue collars except for the ones that cut the grass.

So, as I drive through this area, the question keeps appearing in front of me like the flight data on an F-16's HUD display. "Why in the Hell Would Anybody Vote for Kamala Harris?"

I don't mean that rhetorically, as in, "Are you out of your mind? Why would you vote for her?" I mean it in sort of a scholarly way, like, "Are you day drinking? Why would you vote for her?" I jest, but no, really...what sort would give their vote to Kamala Harris?

So I decided to give it a little more consideration, sort of a thought experiment into the mindset of voters that would cast a ballot for her on purpose. This is just me spitballing, but I think there are actually a number of reasons. These appear in no specific order because right now, I'm doing the stream-of-consciousness thing.

1. You hate Trump. You would have voted for an old sack of rotting oatmeal that sits on the beach licking ice cream cones all day instead of voting for Trump. That's it, that's all there is. Thank God Kamala is now in the race. Now you won't have to hear the incessant taunts of I Told You So the next time Biden succumbs to gravity and somersaults down a flight of stairs, falls off a bike, or poops himself in front of the Pope.

2. You're a good, loyal soldier. You'll vote Democrat no matter what (Fetterman). You'd campaign for a baked lasagna (Fetterman) if it had a (D) after its name (Fetterman). Now, to be fair, Fetterman has turned out to be a bit of a pebble in the DNC's shoe with a few center or right-of-center comments. But Democrat voters never expected that when he ran. They saw Shrek in a hoodie and thought, "Kewl..." 

3. The Truth is more important than Facts. This little gem, once uttered by Joe Biden, drives the conscience that becomes your guide. It's Jiminy Cricket 2.0. If you're a Progressive, you know there is no Truth. There is only Your Truth. And nobody is permitted to question it because your life experience is your own, and so cannot be challenged. Therefore, when Kamala says she comes from middle-class roots and worked at Mcdonald's, that is her Truth in spite of the fact that her parents were Ph.Ds (who could actually have a summer home in Webster Groves) and no work records can be found of Harris' tenure at the golden arches. Speaking truth to power means never having to prove you're genuine.

4. Policy Doesn't Matter. To vote for Kamala means that platitudes are diamonds and promises are gold. Kamala says she will do "great things" for the country, and you know that as long as her convictions mirror yours, eventually, she will circle back and explain just what those "great things" are. After she is elected. 

Perhaps getting rid of your gas stove, your Weber grill, your combustion engine, your ceiling fan, your dishwasher, or the air, water, and trees on your private land (see SUSTAINS ACT) are among those little Easter Eggs that are buried within Kamala's Plan to do Great Things starting January 21st. But you know that policy is a secondary or tertiary consideration compared to personality because you have to believe her. You must believe her. She has nothing else to offer. Kamala has no policies she can direct you to. She hasn't done anything in four years, and whatever unpopular side effects of the administration might exist (inflation, immigration, more inflation), well, those can be blamed on Joe Biden. He won't mind. He won't remember.

Liberal Senators Confident Flip-Flopping Kamala Harris Would Quickly Veer Left If Elected

Meanwhile, Harris Steals Another Key Trump Economic Policy, Says Former Trump Senior Advisor

Can Media Dupe Enough of Us to Grease Her Way In?

5. We Need a Strong Black Woman as President. But until one turns up, you have Kamala Harris. She's no Condi Rice (whom I would vote for in an instant), but she's available and running now. Don't know how strong she is, but if she could ascend to the Vice-Presidency of the United States because of skin color and gender, she can accomplish anything and must have something going for her. But as Nancy Pelosi once said, you have to vote for the bill to see what's in the bill. So you'll go into the polling place, make the Sign of the Cross, pull the lever, and hope for the best.

6. We Need More New Americans. You will vote for Kamala because Kamala knows, as you do, that the continued growth of the country demands ever-increasing fonts of new blood. What was once an Illegal Alien has evolved into an Undocumented Immigrant, a Migrant, and now a New American. Because as we know, this country owes every good thing (and none of the bad ones) to people who came here by stepping over the Rio Grande (as well as our laws) and into our neighborhoods. And if a few million are good, 20 million are better. 

Unless you live in Martha's Vineyard. Or Bel Air. Or in Kamala's front yard. Those New Americans get moved onto a defunct military base in Massachusetts or just deposited somewhere in the Midwest. But of course, you can understand that. You can forgive that because Kamala knows, as you do, that this is what's best for the New Americans so they can integrate with the Old Americans who live in Tumblebutt, Oklahoma. They will overwhelm the public services, the school systems, and the police and fire departments, but this is a good thing because it creates intense challenges that both sets of Americans can struggle through together. It will develop the grit and guts that epitomize the unconquerable American Spirit. It melds them through the forge and within the crucible to produce new Democratic voters, ensuring a one-party state for your children and grandchildren. And, after all, isn't that the way to the future...Comrade?

7. Afghanistan. Afghanistan? Pshaw! That's so 2021. Old news. The exit was whatever it was because it simply had to be done. It had to be done all at once, and it had to be done anyway it could. Kamala knows this, and so do you. When she says she was the last one out of the room, you understand it wasn't because she was responsible. It just means she was told to shut off the lights on her way out. Dead Marines at Abbey Gate and Afghans plopping onto the runway from 130 feet in the air? Biden. Biden did that.

8. Sharp as a Tack. Smartest guy in the room. Best version of Joe Biden ever. For years, Kamala assured America that the President of the United States was in top form. Fully Mission Capable. Had his crap wired tight. But Kamala really knew better, and so did you. As a politician who may have to engage in some unsavory things to survive, you understood that she had to say those things in order to maintain her proximity to power should an anvil land on Biden's head or if he pedaled his bike into a cliff with a tunnel painted on it. Kamala lied to us, but at the same time, she did it for us. You can respect that. You can vote for that in spite of the fact that such a grave issue is more than just a fly in the paint job. Of course, the prudent and honorable thing would be to put the country first and initiate the proceedings for the 25th Amendment, but, uh....does she really even know what that is? Plausible deniability?...the events of the past sometimes cloud our vision of the pluperfect future and propel us into the field of what once was...or something. Ugh. Head starting to hurt, but yeah, you know you could still vote for that if only for the reasons mentioned above. 

Anyway, as the drive through Webster Groves came to an end and carried me into nearby Brentwood, I sort of came back to the education thing. You have a Harris sign in your yard, but there's no educated reason to vote for her. She has no track record of positive accomplishments; she only has a track record of being there in the background like Zelig or doing fluff stuff like the School Bus Shuffle or Looking at the Moon with Her Own Eyes. Say what you want about Trump, but at least he could point to actual accomplishments and positive numbers during his tenure, so it makes me wonder why other educated people don't see that. Or maybe they do. And maybe they don't care. Maybe they just want to virtue signal...I do not know. However, my hope is that there will be enough people out there who can sort through the chaff and vote from an understanding of the things that are greater than skin color or hairstyle. It's kind of important. Our future is going to be formed by what happens in several weeks, and we're all going to have to live in that world.

Dan Zoernig is a commercial photographer, retoucher, and illustrator in St. Louis, Missouri. Earning a degree in History/Political Science from Rockhurst University, he has been commenting on social and policy matters since the early 2000s.

[dyannawynnedayne]

Which Parallel Is Your Favorite? - Semi-finals

Ned and Sansa: art by @sare11aa11eras (1 , 2)

Brienne and Dunk: art by @wodania (1, 2)

SANSA AND NED

SOCIAL ROLE AS MASKING

Bran’s father sat solemnly on his horse, long brown hair stirring in the wind. His closely trimmed beard was shot with white, making him look older than his thirty-five years. He had a grim cast to his grey eyes this day, and he seemed not at all the man who would sit before the fire in the evening and talk softly of the age of heroes and the children of the forest. He had taken off Father's face, Bran thought, and donned the face of Lord Stark of Winterfell.

AGOT, Bran I

Joffrey frowned. Sansa felt that she ought to say something. What was it that Septa Mordane used to tell her? A lady’s armor is courtesy, that was it. She donned her armor and said, “I’m sorry my lady mother took you captive, my lord.”

ACOK, Sansa I

Dunk and Brienne

The Shield

The old man’s brown had always seemed drab to Dunk. “The field should be the color of sunset,” he said suddenly. “The old man liked sunsets. And the device…”“An elm tree,” said Egg. “A big elm tree, like the one by the pool, with a brown trunk and green branches.”“Yes,” Dunk said. “That would serve. An elm tree…but with a shooting star above. Could you do that?”The girl nodded. “Give me the shield. I’ll paint it this very night and have it back to you on the morrow.”

A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms: The Hedge Knight

 "Your door reminded me of an old shield I once saw in my father’s armory.“ She described the arms as best she could recall them.”[…]“You did beautifully,” she said, when the woman showed her the freshly painted shield. It was more a picture than a proper coat of arms, and the sight of it took her back through the long years, to the cool dark of her father’s armory. She remembered how she’d run her fingertips across the cracked and fading paint, over the green leaves of the tree, and along the path of the falling star.

AFFC, Brienne II

[hunty627]

Hunter’s Pokémon journey part 5.

After I triumphed over Pokémon yellow, the time came for me to travel the Johto region in Pokémon crystal. When I arrived in New Bark Town, Professor Elm told me to choose my starter Pokémon. There was Cyndaquil, Totodile and Chikorita. And I chose Chikorita. Professor Elm gave me a new Pokédex and some Poké balls. We set off and we caught lots of cool Pokémon. Such as Spinarak, Sentret and Hoothoot. I even got a Pokémon egg too. When I arrived at Violet City, I made a quick trip to the Ruins of Alph and I caught some Unown. After that, we went to Sprout Tower. And then we went to the gym and battled against gym leader Falkner and his flying types. I managed to win and earn the Zephyr badge. After that, I caught more Pokémon such as Wooper, Hoppip and Mareep. And then my Pokémon egg hatched! Out came a Togepi! After I showed Professor Elm, I resumed my journey through Johto. When we arrived at Azalea town, I met Kurt and his granddaughter Maizie. I was shocked to hear the news that Team Rocket had returned! I assisted Kurt by stopping them from cutting off the tails of the Slowpoke in the Slowpoke well. Just as one of them was about to cut off the tail of one of the Slowpoke, I caught it to save it just in time. And with help from Slowpoke, Chikorita managed to beat them. And then my Chikorita evolved into Bayleef! After Team Rocket was beaten, Kurt turned some of the Apricorns I got into Poké balls that I can use to catch Pokémon. Then I battled gym leader Bugsy and his bug types and won the insect badge. After I went through the Ilex forest, I arrived in Goldenrod Town and got an Eevee. After that, I went to the gym and battled against Whitney and her normal type Pokémon. She was very hard to beat. But I managed to win and earn the plain badge. Then I went you to the flower shop and got a watering can shaped like a Squirtle. After taking part in the bug catching contest, I used the watering can on a strange looking tree, which was in fact a wild Sudowoodo! Eevee battled it so I can catch it! But it was nighttime, and Eevee was in trouble because it was so dark, he couldn’t see. When suddenly, the moon began to shine down on him and he evolved into Umbreon! And he weakened Sudowoodo and I managed to catch it.