#marine breaks the fabric of space and time......

[emioliravioli]

turning mephiles into a cunty proto blaze was NOT on my 2025 bingo card

[solspina]

Hope in Small Places

malum caedo ⋆˙⟡

a short story that's not my proudest work. i just want to get this posted i am so sorry its not proofread and probably horribly written amen.

a poor chaos sacrifice, bent to be perfect and compliant, meets a very questionable space marine with unclear intentions and an even more unclear identity. taken to a safe space and left to ponder her thoughts, she remembers she has more faith than anticipated.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: blood, mentions/implications of sexual assault, religious guilt probably, malum fucking caedo

Her body had sat folded in on itself since the moment she had last been placed down, the only two things that prevented her knees from resting flush against her chest were the sharp, knife-like pain of her broken leg bones poking into her muscles as they threatened to break skin the moment she put pressure upon them, and the presence of a quietly vibrating servo-skull that was being held within her clammy hands, clutched close to her body in a feeble attempt to muffle the almost ambient noise coming from it.

The technology embedded in the skull had made it warm. At the very least, she could feel and somewhat move her fingers, and that alone had been a small but welcome mercy against the freezing cold floors of whatever ship or building her heretical and deformed captors had dragged her into. Regardless of the type of architecture, what mattered was their intention - their screaming voices and bloodied knuckles as they spent day by day and night by night molding her to be the perfect little sacrifice to an unknown chaos god. One who was, without a doubt, not the emperor.

Her pounding head remained bowed, and her breath only came from her lips in sharp, trembling gasps. Whether her labored intake of air came from a punctured lung or from raw fear, she could no longer discern. Her forehead had long stayed against the servo-skull in her arms as she waited for hours at a time. She occasionally took a moment to try and quell her boredom by messaging at the rope burns that lined nearly every limb that clung onto her fragile body. Arms, neck, legs - any inch of exposed skin that had not been covered by the filthy and tattered fabric an eerily bloodstained and unfamiliar looking astartes had torn from the loincloth around his waist.

Some of the heretics had been kinder than others, of course. She had decided that she much preferred the company of the Slaaneshi over the Khornites, for at least the bruises caused by their hands were from the violence of desire and not that of hatred.

Tucked behind a small cargo barrel, she waited for a sign of safety - either from the servo-skull in her hands or from the lack of gunshots and raging of chainswords that came from the next rooms over. A mere few minutes, maybe even hours earlier, they had been right outside the door, but now they had moved to directly above her head. She did not move a muscle as incredibly apparent slaughter circled the rooms around her, never once entering the room she had been placed in with more care than she had experienced in months of captivity. She had simply been placed down in a utility closet-like room and told to stay put, not to move. She was incredibly good at following orders by now, especially the ones that entailed sitting still and letting whatever was going to happen to her body simply happen. She could do nothing to stop her daemon captors from doing what they desired, whether that be to her mind, body, or soul.

This time, it had to have been one of Tzeentch’s men, she was halfway certain. Bright blue armor and the bird-like helmet he wore would not have been out of character for someone like the changer of ways, but she had encountered rubric marines before and not a single one of them had the look or presence of a soul that this one had. Many wouldn’t have even had the vocal cords to tell her to stay put in place.

The possibility of one of the emperor’s angels had crossed her mind, but that hope faded near immediately. Greater daemons and champions of chaos wandered this building, constantly taunting her with their strengths and feats. They mutilated her flesh and made it whole again. They violated her fragile body time and time again. They preached the power of their gods and smiled when she teared up in fear of what she was doomed to become part of. She was reminded day in and day out, through endless nights of sleep deprivation only sated when she fainted from exhaustion or pain, that a single angel of the emperor stood no chance alone. And so, she had swallowed the prayer of the man in blue armor coming to save her as soon as it rose to the front of her prayers.

She had become so lost in her thoughts, in her doubts, that she had failed to realize that prayers had started falling from her lips. Her words, still accompanied by her shallow and shaking breaths, were barely coherent whispers - aside from the occasional "emperor" and "protect me" that came audibly from within her chest. She knew her cries for help would go unanswered. If they had not been answered by now, it was clear to both her and the chaos that surrounded her that the emperor was not listening. Her unwavering faith meant absolutely nothing.

She only managed to break away from those thoughts as the closet door hissed in response to being opened and revealed the white helmet peeking from behind it. She lifted her forehead from the servo-skull and allowed herself to stare into the glowing red eyes of the bloodied astartes that stepped into the room and closed the door tightly behind him as he approached, either to trap her or prevent being ambushed. She felt the tension in the air rise as he walked toward her, his boots pounding against the metal floor in perfect sync with her head before they stopped mere inches from her legs. One slight kick from him would mean immediate death. Quick and painless, at least.

Alas, the kick never came.

Instead, he knelt, tilting his bird-like helm left and right slightly and repetitively. He seemed to be assessing her closely, checking for any further signs of injury or chaos-taint before bowing his head, leveling it with hers and allowing her to place her hand upon the top of the beak.

"Are you hurt?" He asked through his still-bowed head, watching her shake her own head as she stared into his eyes through the distortion of his helmet.

"Where are... they..." She asked in return. Her voice trembled almost as much as her irises did, and trailed off all the same. She was exhausted, truthfully, and he seemed to realize it far more than even she did. Her gaze, however, even against her voice, was suffocatingly afraid. He backed away, careful not to move too quickly as to not scare her any further, even despite the blood and vitae covering his armor in absolutely every area it could reach.

"The heretics?" He said, looking for assurance he had read her question correctly. "Dead. Every last one of them."

He was incredibly careful to read the baseline's body language, wanting to ensure he had done the right thing leaving her alive. Would she attack him for killing her people? Smile at the death of heretics? The sigh of relief that fell from her lips and the slack of her tense shoulders told him all he needed to know.

She would cry, jump into his arms in joy if she had the energy to. That, he did not need to know. What he did know was that he needed to leave, and he needed to do so urgently if the baseline he had rescued would have absolutely any chance of survival.

"You need not walk." He replied to her obvious dilemma, his tone leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. She opened her mouth to speak again, but he had already moved to cradle her with practiced ease that made the blood and carnage on his armor seem to be a hallucination. She winced as her shattered bones in her legs shifted, but her pain faded just as quickly as it had began now that they were off the ground and away from any applied pressure.

The servo-skull she once had seemed to attach itself to the air around the astartes without hesitation. Perhaps it was his all along, and she had just stumbled across it by chance. Regardless, she hoped that it's good intentions had matched his, and that he would prove to be just as comforting in the end.

"Stay with me," The marine murmured, repeating the phrase as he opened the door and carried her into the corridors that smelled putrid of fresh blood. She was used to the scent, desensitized, and yet she inhaled its lack of comfort one last time. "Stay with me."

"The emperor protects." She whispered, pressing her face against his bloodied chestplate, no longer caring if a little heretic blood covered her skin.

They had bathed in her blood for months, she deserved a turn with theirs.

"Indeed he does, little one."

Solspina's Scribellum✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

@astrohymn @moodymisty @undeaddream

@kit-williams @lemon-russ @egrets-not-regrets

(please comment to be added/removed from my taglist !!)

[kit-williams]

Healing

Male Lead: Tulio Female Lead: Psychi Universe/AU: Warhammer 40k/Yandere Space Marine Canon Status: Yes

Note: Sorry this was late T-T & this might be set before Tulio's initial post but basically she's not serving his friend yet.

I sobbed against his broad chest as he held me in just one arm, hardly exhausted. I feel like I've seen him before maybe in the market maybe as one of the few in passing but how my eyes water so much looking up at him as I look probably so awful. My robes ripped and torn. There are beasts and animals in the forest and dark woods... and normally they stay hidden but I just was going to head home...

I can't help but start to cry again as he stops for a moment and cradles me trying to get me to breathe. "There there my lady you're fine. Your leg will be good as new."

"My leg..." I look down and see how it's torn up and bleeding as I hardly feel the dull ache I just feel more scared. I start to sob again as I remember the hands grabbing me and pulling me into the woods. How I screamed out for just a moment before I was smacked hard to be quieted.

His name is Tulio... he said he saw me get grabbed and heard my screams and came to my rescue. I cling to his blue robes tightly as he walks through these darkened woods getting his clothes dirty because of me. How those fat tears of mine stain his clean robes and I try not to get any more of my fluids upon him. Yet he holds me so close just smiling as I continue to cry.

I look up at that smiling face as his grass green eyes look down at me wrinkling at the edges as he just smiles so handsomely down at me... the way the light plays with his brunet locks as the patchy breaking up of the tree coverings just make him look so much more handsome. He was my knight as I sob against him just pitifully thanking him.

"Shhhh shhh my dear lady there is nothing more to fear. The bandits are slain and you are here safe in my arms." I hear the slight uptick in his voice but I assume it's just as he maneuvers over the uneven ground... and nothing to do with how he holds me. "Forgive me for my hands my lady... I do not with to hurt your leg." He says adjusting how I sit in his hold feeling his hands brush against the back of my thighs at times and on the curve of my rear but I hardly care for the moment.

I sniffle loudly as I wipe my eyes with my scrapped palm and I wince. I look down at myself as I am a mess... my hair pulled from its bun letting my hair flow free, my poor outfit torn, and all the cuts on my form. "They... they were going to sell me." I whine softly as while I realize I am an indentured servant I have a chance to be free unlike being a slave.

"Shhh shhh I know they have been slain my dear Psychi... no one is going to touch you like that again." I think little of his words as I am too busy weeping clinging to him like a lifeline.

"You saved me."

"Of course my dear lady... I will always save you." Again his words slip out of my mind only for me to reflect upon them later.

As he carries me out I see the sun is getting low... it will surely be dark by the time I return home. "Thank you my lord I'm certain I can make it home." I say and just am surprised by the look he gives me... as if he is shocked by what I have said. "My lord? Um... you could carry me home I suppose." I say trying to assuage his concern.

"No my lady you will stay with me for the night."

"But... but... but... my master-" I say worried.

"Will understand once I explain what had happened. You need to be looked at right away. What with the swelling and the cuts all over your body and that torn up leg of yours. I'm sorry if this is me overstepping but you need to be looked at right away." He says gently but firmly as he carries me back into the city. He wraps me in some fabric as he moves through the crowds quickly. I feel so tired and overwhelmed I can feel a headache rushing through my veins so perhaps it is not a terrible idea to accept his generous offer.

I blink my eyes again as his warm hand cups my face and a cool rag gently wipes away the blood off my leg. "What..." I mutter softly.

"I said I was sorry for... it's nothing important that I said." He says cleaning out the gouges in my leg. I wince occasionally in pain and I can hear the softly muttered apologies.

"You're very gentle." I say softly and weakly.

"Thank you my lady." He says as he tightly wraps the bandage around my leg allowing me to adjust it as I see fit. I look over the bandages over my form some of them looking far more costly than what I would use upon me but perhaps this is all he has.

I go to stand but he catches me as I collapse into his arms, "I'm sorry I should-"

He gently places a cooling pack on my head watching me wince as it is tender from being hit after I screamed for help. "I understand that this isn't... " His dry and scarred lips quirk for a moment as his brow furrows trying to think of the word and he just sighs muttering something in high gothic. "Just allow me to help you heal? I would feel awful if my effort simply died on me from an infection that could have been prevented." He gives me a sad smile and I just chew on my swollen bottom lip.

"Of course my lord I am sorry for trying to scurry off after all of your help."

He nods and that handsome smile returns as he places me back into the soft lounging chair. I wince seeing my blood on the fabric though I wonder if it is even my own given how dark it is. I just close my eyes for a moment... just a small reprieve of this pounding headache... and unfortunately again time has passed far too long.

"I'm sorry for waking you my dear little one but you must drink something." Lord Tulio speaks as I open my mouth to reply it feels so dry and my throat only makes some horrible warble as I am disturbed from my impromptu slumber. "Drink." He says putting a cup to my lips.

The cold water burns my parched throat as I drink too much before coughing softly and his gentle hand rubs my back. He gives me an herb mixture to chew on and spit out for my aching joints and lingering pain. I look outside and whine softly as it is fully dark and now the fear of being reprimanded grows. "Eat." He gently commands again after I spit out the medical herbs into his palm, I really didn't want to but he told me to spit.

I stammer for a moment as I look at the good food in front of me but my stomach demands to be sated and so I obey both it and his gentle orders. "Thank you." I say softly as I eat the generous meal given to me. I feel his large hand pet my head for a moment as he just chuckles at me and says something in high gothic. I don't press him to tell me what he had said. He once again changes and cleans my bandages with such a gentle touch that I did not expect from him.

The bare room he has me stay in is still far more than what I am use to. He tells me should I need any help just to say his name and he will certainly hear me. I thank him once again and drift off into a dreamless sleep.

The morning after is funny as I call his name and the way he looks at me for a moment as he looks surprised as he grips the doorframe tightly, "I'm sorry did you forget I was here?" I say with a soft laugh, "I mean... forgive that jest my lord..."

He laughs softly recomposing himself, "I thought it was but a dream I had last night of saving a dearest maiden from some banditry."

I cannot help but laugh softly, "Unfortunately that was very real. I shouldn't take up more of your time my lord... I must return to my master." I say softly and as sweetly as I can as once more I try to get up and then in a flash I've fallen into his arms again.

"You're very stubborn do you know this?" He says with that airy laugh of his. I feel his chin against the top of my head as he pulls me up and putting me back down, before I can stammer out an apology he just smiles, "It's very cute." My face turns so very red as he turns away before walking back into the room with something that look too expensive for me. "They're not the nicest robes but they should work to keep your modesty my lady. I can call one of the serfs to come help you change if you need it."

"I'll manage. Thank you Lord Tulio."

I watch his throat bob for but a moment before he just quietly says, "Just Tulio is fine." He turns away before I can argue with him.

I dress with little hassle before he carries me once again. He tells me I hardly weigh a thing in his grip so him carrying me is hardly any effort. Breakfast is far too good for my station again as he once more cleans my cuts and scrapes, gives me more herbs to chew one, before he takes me in his arms and carries me back to my master's house.

On the way back some guards do approach to let me know that I was counted as a runaway. The dread in my eyes as I feel Tulio hold me a little tighter as he just whispers to me how things will be okay. The expected yelling at me doesn't come as only sweet words to placate the astartes that is holding me as Tulio explains what had happened. Apologizing at the circumstances as he wasn't concerned with what my master had to say. There was a strange look in his eyes as he looked at me as if he didn't want to let me go... but that's a silly romantic sort of thought.

"Thank you Tulio." I say to him softly and kiss the part of his palm near his wrist. I hear the way his breathing hitches for a moment but I discount it as any of my doing. I smile up at him as I know I look like a mess... with how my hair is down in robes that hardly belong to a woman of my station.

"You're welcome." He says before I reach out and Alba, another indentured servant, comes to help me limp back inside. I will certainly have to think of a way to pay him back... hopefully something will come to mind.

Fluffuary taglist: @bispecsual @the-californicationist @egrets-not-regrets @libraryshadow @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

[creations-by-chaosfay]

A couple folks have asked about why I won't work arts and crafts fairs, sewing as they're especially popular this time of year.

Here's the list why:

Covid - Husband and I both wear masks, but most people do not. We're both high risk and have contracted this deadly disease once, and still deal with the longterm effects. Oh, covid is the leading cause of death now here the US. Getting people to use hand sanitizer before touching anything is also a major issue. It's like dealing with toddlers. Now, before covid...

Scented items - everyone seems to use horrific artifical fragrances on their holiday items. I tried working an arts and crafts holiday fair about 12 years ago. In just half an hour, I was dealing with a really bad asthma attack. The "zero refund" policy was waived so we could get refund on paying for the vendor space. Because I nearly died.

Sensory nightmare - A&CFs tend to take place in auditoriums and school gyms. Lots of echoing and no soft surfaces (like carpeting) to absorb thr noise. The lighting hurts my eyes and tends to flicker because fluorescent lights are like that. I end up needing frequent breaks. Don't get me started on the odors, namely body odor. These places smell like sweaty teenagers who refuse to wear deodorant and instead marinate in body spray (scented rubbing alcohol) by Bath & Body Works. It's bad.

Permit/license - In Oregon, I'm required have a license or permit to be a vendor. You need these for garage/yard sales too, and those are free. Street vendor permits are free, but if vendoring indoors? It's not. I'm Disabled and that can complicate things. I can't be a street vendor, like at a farmers market, because of sensory nightmare and the heat. Even with a tent to keep thr sun out, I will not be okay.

Fabric absorbs odors - all that stink will need to be washed outta the fabric. That means a trip to the laundromat immediately after an event because I cannot pack these things away before washing. That's expensive.

Exhaustion - On top of this, we will be exhausted. That's a problem we acquired from covid: we exhaust easily, especially me. I can walk nearly a mile now, but it's taken a year to recover this much. That's just walking. There's all the talking and the social masking I need to do because of my autism and adhd, and dealing with the sensory nightmare. Then setup and repacking everything.

It's simply not worth it. Especially considering folks will balk at the prices and argue that I need to lower them to what they consider "reasonable" because apparently they can find these quilts at Walmart. Dealing with them is a special kind of Hell I never wanna deal with again.

Please stop suggesting I work at these events.

[caramel-catss]

never leave

on ao3

word count: 1k

link and marin dance; link dreams about marin post-link's awakening

i listened to these while writing

This time, it is a hall. A ballroom, vaguely like Hyrule Castle’s, violet curtains lining the windows, tinting the setting sunlight. It’s quiet, ethereal. Link feels this place is familiar, like Zelda will drag him here to sit in a corner as people shake his hands and thank him for what he’s done. He stands, alone, in the empty hall. He breathes in the air, stale yet whimsical. There are no windows open.

It feels vivid, but everything is vivid to him. A byproduct of the Wind Fish’s magic, the inability to tell dream from reality, the two one in the same. Link smoothes his dress shirt. He fumbles with the tag, his name written on it, until it stops scratching his neck. He reaches his hand out, in offering to dance.

She takes it.

Marin stands in front of him. Her dress reaches her ankles in the back, her knees in the front. A red gem sits on her chest, attached to the fabric instead of a chain. Her hair is tied back elegantly, braids connected by a hibiscus, laying behind her. She looks like a noble, a princess, someone Link would meet in this ballroom. Her hand lingers on his, gentle and fragile. Her eyelashes are only shorter than his own.

“Dance with me?” She asks. Her voice dings like a bell. Link nods.

Marin takes the first steps, leading Link in a gentle waltz. He can recognize the tune that begins around them, but the orchestra is nowhere to be seen. Marin’s voice takes up a hum, continuing the ballad. A cello plays a solo, sound powerful as the moon. The sirens join in with it.

She reaches up their hands, holding up her skirt as she guides Link into twirling her. Link stares into her eyes. She looks back, and giggles.

“I never learned how to dance,” she admits, continuing to effortlessly lead the two. “Somehow, it feels natural with you.”

“I have,” Link murmurs. His voice, usually barren and scarred, sounds young in a way it hasn’t been in years. “You dance beautifully.”

Marin giggles again, and lets go to wave her hand at him. “Oh, you!”

Link smiles. He takes Marin’s hands again, this time leading her as they move. With this amount of space, Link feels free to spin her about. Her laughs are chimes, songs of seagulls, the waves. It feels perfect.

Eventually, Link’s hand slides around her waist, holding up her right with his left. They’re closer now, still gazing into each other’s eyes, and Marin’s cheeks are red. Link’s sure his are, too, but he can’t bring himself to care.

They continue the waltz. Marin has the elegance of someone who has done this all her life. 

She spins away from Link, and he catches her hand. They stay. She breathes, huffing a bit, leg and arm still outwards. He breathes too, but he doesn’t feel tired. When he was younger, he wouldn’t have been able to dance this much without taking a break, but over the years he’s learned that breaks are a luxury he can’t always have.

Link pulls Marin back in, then pulls her into a dip, catching her. She looks at him, bats her eyes, and laughs again, charming as always. She reaches up a hand, pulls a stray hair out of his face. She leans into his touch.

“Who taught you how to dance?” She asks.

“My sister,” Link replies. “She didn’t want me to embarrass myself when I went to castle events.”

“Well look at how fancy and royal you are, hero-prince Link!” Marin smiles, lightly teasing him. “I don’t remember you having a sister when you came to Koholint.”

“We didn’t know, then,” Link admits. “We had suspicions, but didn’t talk about it until I arrived home.”

“After I died?” Marin’s voice is innocent, kind. Link doesn’t register his subconscious sounding the alarm, trying to tell him something.

“After you died,” he confirms. She isn’t dead now, she’s in front of him. Why does he feel pain when she talks about it?

Marin leans forward, and Link lets her stand back up. She moves the hair out of his face again.

“I miss your pink hair,” she says. “It was cute.”

Link scoffs, not unkind, and his cheeks warm with embarrassment. “I don’t miss it.”

“Oh, you’ve become such a grump!” Marin’s laughter is like a songbird.

Link rolls his eyes. “It’s been years, Marin, we’ve both changed.”

“You know I haven’t.” Marin flashes her perfect smile.

Link takes Marin back into a dance, and she sings her ballad. It’s in Hylian; Koholint never had a language of its own. They always spoke Hylian, even though they never knew what Hyrule was. He knows the lyrics by heart.

Link is suddenly taken out of the trance Marin’s voice puts him in when she cuts herself off, looking outside. Her face turns worried. She lets go of him, walks to the windows, and peeks outside. A full moon.

“The night is rising,” Marin’s tone is tinged with sadness. “Our time will be up soon.”

“What do you mean?” Link walks to Marin. He places a hand on her shoulder, tries to comfort her. She looks up at him.

“I’ll see you again, Link,” Marin says, a shaky smile forming on her lips. She looks close to tears. “I always wanted to learn how to dance. Thank you.”

Link pulls her close. “Always,” he murmurs.

“Kiss me?” The moon rises further into the sky. The whisps of the room start to break off, the curtains blown away by the suddenly open windows. It’s windy. Marin’s hair flies to Link’s right. He feels the urgency in her voice, wishes this isn’t real.

Link softly, so softly, takes Marin’s cheeks into his calloused hands. He presses his chapped lips to her perfect ones, feels the sea in her breath. Her hands rise to his face, cradling him like he is her. 

He isn’t the one to pull away. Marin’s lips suddenly become a ghost’s, and he opens his eyes, and she is gone. All that is left of the ballroom is this window and the place he is standing on. He looks out the window. An echo of her voice sounds throughout the outside nighttime, singing that haunted song. It rings in his ears like how it did when he first opened his eyes. 

White feathers fly through the air. He reaches out, and though they’re far away, he catches one. A seagull’s.

Link wakes up.

He’s alone. The room is dark. His back aches from sleeping on his old, hard mattress, the one he hasn’t thrown out yet because it was his uncle’s. 

He sits up. He pats his side, checking to make sure his knife is still there, and he checks for the one under his mattress, and the one in his bedside table. Nobody’s been here through the night, or if they were, he’s still armed.

Link moves out of his bed, wiping his eyes and trying not to scowl as hard as he usually does. That one was particularly cruel, even giving him a kiss before taking her away again. He opens the curtains, but only by a crack so he’s not blinded and nobody sees him.

Link moves back to his bed. He reaches in the drawer underneath the one holding his knife, and he grabs something. A dream journal, half its pages damaged with tears or ripping or spilled ink. He moves it to where the light shines through the house, and he picks up his quill.

Tonight, he begins, it was in a ballroom…

[screenmobile]

Can You Put Regular Furniture on a Screened-In Porch?

If you’re lucky enough to have a screened-in porch, you already know it’s one of the best spots in the house—somewhere between inside and outside, where you can enjoy a summer breeze without the bugs. But when it comes to furnishing that space, you might be wondering: Can you just move your regular furniture out there, or do you need something special?

The short answer: It depends. Regular furniture can work, but only if you take a few precautions. Let’s break it down.

Can Indoor Furniture Handle a Screened Porch?

A screened-in porch provides some protection from the elements, but it’s not completely sealed off. You’ll still have to deal with temperature changes, humidity, and occasional gusts of wind carrying dust and moisture. That means certain materials will hold up better than others.

Here’s what to consider:

Material Matters More Than You Think

Some furniture materials are naturally more resistant to humidity, temperature swings, and mild exposure to the elements. Others? Not so much.

Solid Wood – Gorgeous, but be careful. High humidity can cause warping and cracking, especially with softwoods like pine. Hardwoods (teak, oak, mahogany) hold up better.

Upholstered Furniture – Fabric sofas and chairs can absorb moisture and odors. If your porch isn't climate-controlled, that plush sectional might not last long.

MDF or Particleboard – Avoid. These materials don’t mix well with moisture and will start to swell, warp, or even fall apart over time.

Wicker and Rattan – Natural wicker can be tricky; synthetic versions are much more durable. If you love the look, just make sure to treat natural wicker with a protective sealant.

Metal – Generally a solid choice, but watch out for rust, especially in humid areas. Aluminum and stainless steel are better options.

How Protected is Your Porch?

Not all screened-in porches are created equal. Some are nearly as insulated as indoor rooms, while others are just a step above a patio.

You can get away with more traditional indoor furniture if your porch is well-enclosed (good seals, minimal drafts).

If it’s more exposed (gaps in screens, more airflow), stick to furniture that can handle some moisture and temperature shifts.

Think About Your Climate

Humidity is the biggest enemy of indoor furniture on a screened-in porch. If you live somewhere like South Bend, where summers can be muggy and winters can be brutal, you need furniture that won’t crack in the cold or get musty in the heat.

Keeping Regular Furniture Porch-Ready

So, you’ve got a favorite chair or table you really want to use on your porch. What can you do to make it last?

1. Use Sealants and Protective Coatings

If you’re working with wood furniture, apply a polyurethane or marine-grade sealant to help it resist moisture.

For metal furniture, a rust-proof spray or wax coating can help prevent corrosion.

Wicker or rattan? Use a clear varnish to add an extra layer of protection.

2. Add Covers and Slipcovers

Fabric furniture can work on a screened porch if you protect it. Consider:

Weather-resistant slipcovers – These add a layer of defense against dust and humidity.

Plastic or vinyl covers – Not the prettiest option, but if you only use the space occasionally, it’s a great way to keep furniture in good shape.

3. Use Rugs to Protect Flooring and Legs

A good outdoor rug can help prevent wooden furniture legs from absorbing moisture and warping. Plus, it makes the space feel cozier.

4. Manage Humidity

A simple dehumidifier can work wonders for keeping moisture levels in check, especially in summer. Fans also help with airflow.

5. Bring Cushions Inside When Not in Use

If you have fabric-covered cushions, store them inside when the weather is extra humid or cold. You’ll extend their life and avoid musty smells.

Alternative Furniture That Works Even Better

If you're considering getting new furniture for your porch, why not choose pieces that are built to last in a semi-outdoor space?

Best Materials for Screened-In Porch Furniture:

Teak or Cedar Wood – Naturally resistant to moisture and pests.

Aluminum or Stainless Steel – Won’t rust or corrode easily.

Polywood (Recycled Plastic Lumber) – Looks like wood, but weatherproof.

All-Weather Wicker (Resin or Synthetic) – The charm of wicker, without the fragility.

Outdoor Upholstery (Sunbrella, Olefin, Acrylic) – Designed for humidity, UV exposure, and spills.

Can You Use Regular Furniture?

Yes, but with some effort. If you love the look of a particular chair or table and want to use it on your screened-in porch, take the necessary precautions—seal, cover, and protect it. But if you're starting fresh, investing in furniture made for indoor-outdoor use will save you headaches down the road.

And hey, if you ever decide to turn that screened-in porch into a year-round sunroom (tempting, right?), Screenmobile South Bend has some great options to help you customize the space.

Want to make your screened-in porch more functional? Whether you need better screens, weather-resistant solutions, or ideas for a porch-to-sunroom conversion, Screenmobile South Bend has you covered. Reach out today and turn your porch into the perfect all-weather retreat!

[desertbled]

@ontrgt sent:

Thick digits test the tightness of the length of soft brown leather belted neatly around Wolf's throat. Curling in the scant space between flushed skin and fabric, Mathias tugs. "What a good boy." He murmurs, dark eyes glinting like a knife in the low light that's cast from dimmed lumens. A hand comes up to run through Wolf's short hair, gripping it to pull his head back, forcing him to look up at the towering figure of the marine. Even out of his armor he consumes nearly the entire bed he's seated upon. "*my* good boy."

[ 𝕎 ] —- - Wolfgang, like many other Kasrkin, was not one to bend a knee. From a young age, he’d stared into the Eye of Terror—facing an unholy storm that Guardsmen from lesser planets would shudder at the mere thought of. Fear & docility were nowhere to be found in his nature; torn out of him from the moment of his birth. The only obedience left in his heart was one forged in allegiance to the Emperor, & to the duty of the Imperium.

Fitting, then, that the only one who could break his resolve was none other than a man born of the Emperor’s own stock.

The Cadian grit his teeth as he bowed before the Astartes, eyes focused on his own battle-scarred hands. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the sheets, trying his best to steady his breathing as he inhaled through his nostrils. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laid down with another, too burdened with his service to the Imperium. The feeling was almost foreign to him, leaving his senses overloaded with a warmth only known in his youth.

The intensity left him struggling; every limb shaking from the sheer overstimulation. His lashes were wet from barely controlled tears, threatening to flow free at any moment. Despite his best effort to compose himself, Wolf let out a shuddering breath in response to Mathias’s tugging—so close to falling apart.

He didn’t understand why the Astartes chose him of all people, still couldn’t, even as Mathias’s fingers tangled in his hair.

Outwardly, he was as proud as any other Cadian; boasting the strength of his people. Inwardly, he felt the burden of shame, knowing that he’d failed to stop the forces of Chaos from breaking his homeworld. He felt so unworthy in the presence of such a significant being. Yet, the chaplain had taken him for a lover. Why?

Glassy, lilac eyes looked up at the Grey Knight, searching for answers, yet finding none in that dark gaze of his. He shuddered once more at Mathias’s praise, finally relenting to the flood of desire that filled his veins.

A soft whine escaped Wolf’s throat at last, revealing his longing. He wanted to be good. He wanted to be so fucking good for him. He wanted to be worthy.

His fingers twitched where they lay, curled into the bedding, wanting to return Mathias’s touch; though remaining steadfast, waiting for permission.

〝Please,〞Wolf whimpered. 〝Please tell me what to do.〞

[earthvitalsignimpact]

Mission 10: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

written by AI and edited by a human

Imagination and Creativity

The ability to imagine new possibilities—whether through mental imagery or conceptual thinking—is central to creating new solutions. Creativity allows an individual to think outside the box, challenge established norms, and envision what does not yet exist. This is often the most critical aspect of innovation.

Scientific Reference: Neuroscience research has shown that creativity engages brain regions such as the default mode network (DMN), responsible for spontaneous thought and problem-solving (Beaty et al., 2014).

Mission 10: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch – Day 7

Disclaimer:

This story, much like the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, characters, or timelines is purely coincidental, especially since it involves time travel, space-time fluctuations, and an overabundance of oceanic plastic. The author takes no responsibility for any potential confusion regarding the nature of time, space, or the exact location of your towel. If you find yourself in the vicinity of a Chronostorm, please proceed with caution and remember that your safety is likely not guaranteed.

The Crisis of Pollution

The team was thrust into the not-so-distant future, landing around the year 2050. The Great Pacific Garbage Patch—an enormous collection of plastic waste, marine debris, and pollution—had grown far beyond its expected size. Spanning an area roughly twice the size of Texas, about 1.6 million square kilometers, the patch had become an overwhelming catastrophe. The Chronostorm, a temporal weather phenomenon, had accelerated the destruction of marine ecosystems, pushing species to the brink of extinction.

As they gazed out over the massive expanse of floating plastic islands, some stretching for hundreds of kilometers, Anika spoke solemnly, "We’re too late. The storm’s making the oceans uninhabitable, and if we don’t act now, we’ll lose everything. The fish, the coral reefs, the food chain—all of it."

The Chronostorm was no ordinary weather system. It was a disturbance in spacetime—a tear in the very fabric of reality itself. In the story, the Chronostorm distorts time within a specific region of the Earth's atmosphere and oceans, leading to erratic weather patterns, temperature fluctuations, and the rapid evolution of ecosystems. As time distorts, some areas experience time acceleration, causing pollution to break down at an unnaturally fast rate, while other regions experience time dilation, where pollutants stagnate, unable to break down. This manipulation of time creates chaos across the marine environment.

Chaos Theory and Temporal Distortions

"The storm is accelerating everything," Gunnar explained, eyeing the churning waters. "Pollution isn't just sitting here anymore—it’s evolving, breaking down faster than it ever should have. The ocean's ecosystems can’t keep up."

The Chronostorm in the story operates as a perfect example of chaos theory. Small disturbances—such as a shift in ocean temperature or a change in time flow—are causing exponential changes across the environment. As mathematician and chaos theory pioneer, Edward Lorenz, once noted, “A butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil can set off a chain of events that leads to a tornado in Texas” (Lorenz, 1963). In the story, this amplification effect means that even small disruptions have massive, unpredictable consequences. Marine life, weather patterns, and species evolution are all linked in a sensitive, chaotic system where even slight fluctuations are capable of causing cascading destruction.

Anika, familiar with chaos theory, recognized how each distortion of time was causing a ripple effect. "The smallest changes in time are multiplying the destruction. If we don’t stabilize things now, it will spiral out of control."

General Relativity and Temporal Distortions

The Chronostorm was also warping spacetime itself. In the story, the storm causes regions of space to experience time dilation. Where time speeds up, plastics and other pollutants break down at a rate that overwhelms the natural processes of the ocean. Microplastics are released into the water far faster than they would in normal conditions, poisoning marine life. In other regions where time slows, pollutants stagnate, creating pockets of toxic waste that cannot break down.

As physicist Stephen Hawking explained, “Spacetime tells matter how to move, and matter tells spacetime how to curve.” (Hawking, 1988). In the story, this principle is manifested as spacetime fluctuations, where the natural rhythm of the oceans and atmosphere is disrupted, creating unpredictable environmental effects.

The scene visually represents the curvature of spacetime, with waves bending and currents moving unpredictably, symbolizing the chaotic environmental effects caused by the distortions

“We have to stop the storm,” Anika said, her voice urgent. “If we don’t, the planet will collapse under the weight of its own destruction.”

How They Got There: Temporal Manipulation and the Chronostorm

The team was sent to the future as part of their mission to investigate and resolve the escalating environmental crisis caused by the Chronostorm. The Chronostorm itself was caused by spacetime anomalies triggered by both human technological interventions and natural forces. These anomalies distorted time, sending the team to the year 2050—a crucial moment when the Great Pacific Garbage Patch had reached its peak size, and the ocean ecosystem was at the brink of collapse.

The Chronostorm created a temporal rift, pulling the team forward in time. This rift was a result of time dilation, where parts of spacetime were stretched and compressed due to the storm's fluctuations. This distortion allowed the team to travel forward to a time when the effects of the garbage patch were catastrophic. They were sent to 2050 to intervene before the situation became irreversible.

Restoration Efforts

The team decided to deploy a combination of bioremediation techniques, which involved using natural processes to detoxify the water. One of their primary strategies was marine phytoremediation, a process where certain species of marine plants, such as seagrass, kelp, and algae, absorb and break down pollutants like plastics and heavy metals. Phytoremediation is based on the natural abilities of these plants to filter out toxins from the water and air, restoring the ecosystem over time. Seagrasses, for example, can sequester carbon and nitrogen, making them crucial for cleaning the water and reducing the impact of climate change on marine environments.

They also deployed ocean-cleaning drones, which used advanced filtration systems to collect plastic waste, especially microplastics that were too small for larger machines to gather. These drones were equipped with specialized software to track the waste and ensure that it was properly disposed of or repurposed, minimizing the risk of introducing new contaminants into the ecosystem.

In addition to these efforts, they focused on restoring key coastal ecosystems like mangrove forests and seagrass meadows. These habitats are known for their incredible ability to sequester carbon, stabilize coastlines, and support biodiversity. Mangroves, in particular, have been shown to store carbon at rates much higher than terrestrial forests due to their dense root systems and the ability to trap organic matter in the mud. These restoration efforts aimed to rebuild natural habitats that would serve as nurseries for marine species, providing shelter and food for fish and other marine life while supporting the overall health of the ecosystem.

The Temporal Environmental Stabilizer (TES) was activated in the story to counteract the rapid fluctuations caused by the Chronostorm. By manipulating the flow of time and stabilizing temperature gradients, the TES was able to restore balance to the environment. It monitored and adjusted real-time conditions in the ocean, ensuring that harmful fluctuations did not undo the restoration efforts. It also promoted the growth of carbon-absorbing plants, such as seagrasses and kelp forests, which are vital to maintaining the ocean's carbon sequestration abilities.

The TES used feedback loops to monitor the ocean’s current state, adjusting the environment in real-time. This included regulating salinity levels to maintain optimal conditions for marine organisms and preventing further acidification caused by the rising concentration of carbon dioxide in the water. By restoring a stable thermal environment and promoting the growth of key species, the TES played a pivotal role in supporting the bioremediation efforts and enhancing the health of the ocean's ecosystems.

Outcome: A Hopeful Future

Slowly, the oceans began to clear, and the restoration projects took root. The team knew that the battle was far from over, but by stabilizing the flow of time, they had stopped the Chronostorm, giving the oceans a chance to recover. The toxic species were being managed, and the Great Pacific Garbage Patch was beginning to shrink.

Scientific References:

Great Pacific Garbage Patch:

Lebreton, L. C. M., Van der Zwet, J., Damsteeg, J. W., et al. (2018). "A global mass budget for plastic waste." Science Advances, 4(6), eaap9027. https://doi.org/10.1126/sciadv.aap9027

Ocean-Cleaning Drones:

Slat, B., et al. (2014). "A novel approach to ocean plastic cleanup." The Ocean Cleanup. Retrieved from https://www.theoceancleanup.com

O’Donoghue, P., & Martens, S. (2018). "Marine robots for cleaning and monitoring the oceans." Ocean Engineering, 158, 1-9. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.oceaneng.2018.02.033

Jambeck, J. R., et al. (2015). "Plastic waste inputs from land into the ocean." Science, 347(6223), 768-771. https://doi.org/10.1126/science.1260352

Chaos Theory:

Gleick, J. (1987). Chaos: Making a New Science. Viking Penguin.

Lorenz, E. N. (1963). "Deterministic Nonperiodic Flow." Journal of the Atmospheric Sciences, 20(2), 130-141.

General Relativity:

Einstein, A. (1915). "Die Feldgleichungen der Gravitation" [The Field Equations of Gravitation]. Preussische Akademie der Wissenschaften, 844–847.

Hawking, S. (1988). A Brief History of Time. Bantam Books.

Phytoremediation:

Raskin, I., Smith, R. D., & Salt, D. E. (1997). "Phytoremediation of Toxic Metals: Using Plants to Remove Pollutants from the Environment." Current Opinion in Biotechnology, 8(2), 221-226.

Glick, B. R. (2010). "Phytoremediation: A Novel Approach to Cleaning Up Toxic Environmental Pollutants." Biotechnology Advances, 28(5), 466-473.

Mangroves and Seagrass Meadows for Carbon Sequestration:

Mcleod, E., Chmura, G. L., Bouillon, S., et al. (2011). "A Blueprint for Blue Carbon: Toward an Improved Understanding of the Role of Vegetated Coastal Habitats in Sequestering CO2." Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment, 9(10), 552-560.

Pendleton, L., Donato, D. C., Murray, B. C., et al. (2012). "Estimates for Global Blue Carbon: Potential for Carbon Sequestration in Mangrove, Seagrass, and Salt Marsh Ecosystems." PLOS ONE, 7(9), e43542.

Exclusive Interview: The Mind Behind the Chronostorm and Temporal Restoration

In this exclusive interview, we sit down with Dr. Anika Strauss, the lead scientist behind the mission to reverse the damage caused by the Chronostorm and restore balance to Earth's ecosystems in the year 2050. Dr. Strauss shares her insights into the scientific principles of time manipulation, the challenges of restoring the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, and the ethical considerations behind controlling the flow of time.

Interviewer: Thank you for joining us, Dr. Strauss. Let’s dive straight into the heart of your mission. The Chronostorm is central to your work. Can you explain in simple terms how this phenomenon works and what makes it so dangerous?

Dr. Anika Strauss: Of course. The Chronostorm is essentially a massive disturbance in spacetime, a kind of storm that warps both time and space. This distortion causes time to behave unpredictably. In some areas, time accelerates, leading to rapid environmental degradation, like the accelerated breakdown of plastics. In others, time slows down, creating stagnant patches of water where the usual processes, like pollutant breakdown, stop altogether. This creates chaos in ecosystems, disrupting the balance between species and their environment.

Interviewer: That sounds terrifying. What inspired the decision to send your team to 2050 specifically?

Dr. Anika Strauss: 2050 was a critical tipping point. By then, the Great Pacific Garbage Patch had expanded beyond what we expected, accelerated by the Chronostorm. Time was literally running out. We needed to understand the long-term effects of the storm, observe the damage up close, and deploy technologies like the Temporal Environmental Stabilizer (TES) to stabilize the environment before it reached the point of no return. It wasn’t just about cleaning up plastic; it was about understanding how time itself was contributing to this crisis and using that understanding to reverse the damage.

Interviewer: The TES is one of the most fascinating parts of your work. How does it actually work to reverse the environmental damage?

Dr. Anika Strauss: The TES is designed to stabilize the flow of time in regions where the Chronostorm has created chaos. By manipulating spacetime in a controlled way, it helps restore natural processes—slowing down areas where time is moving too quickly and speeding up areas where time has become stagnant. It essentially re-aligns time with the natural cycles of the planet, allowing ecosystems to recover, pollutants to break down at a manageable rate, and habitats to regenerate.

Interviewer: In your story, you talk about chaos theory and how small changes in spacetime can cause large, unpredictable consequences. How does this concept tie into your work with the Chronostorm?

Dr. Anika Strauss: Chaos theory is central to understanding the Chronostorm. It tells us that small disturbances in a system can trigger a chain reaction that leads to massive changes. In the case of the Chronostorm, those small disturbances in time created enormous shifts in the environment—rapid breakdown of plastics, new toxic species emerging, and ecosystems collapsing. We had to stabilize the system quickly before these shifts became irreversible. The TES helped us manage those feedback loops and re-establish balance.

Interviewer: What about the ethical implications of controlling time? Is it right to manipulate such a fundamental force of nature?

Dr. Anika Strauss: That’s a question we wrestled with a lot. Time manipulation is incredibly powerful, and with great power comes great responsibility. The decision to intervene in natural processes was not taken lightly. We had to ask ourselves: Can we let Earth collapse due to our mistakes, or do we step in to fix it? The key was recognizing that while controlling time could have unintended consequences, doing nothing would be far worse. We’ve learned that the Earth is resilient, but we can’t let it reach the point where it cannot recover. That’s why we developed the TES to restore balance rather than force unnatural changes.

Interviewer: If you could give advice to future generations, especially regarding environmental responsibility, what would it be?

Dr. Anika Strauss: I would say: Be mindful of the long-term impact of your actions. Everything we do, no matter how small, ripples through time. Pollution, overuse of resources, and the manipulation of nature may seem like isolated problems, but they add up. We’ve learned the hard way that small changes can lead to massive consequences. The future of our planet depends on understanding that we are part of a delicate system, and our actions must be carefully considered, for the sake of the future.

Disclaimer: This interview is a work of fiction, inspired by the concepts of time manipulation and environmental restoration. Any resemblance to real-world events, characters, or technologies is purely coincidental. No one knows whether Chronostorms will ever exist, but if they do, please remember: Don’t Panic, and always carry a towel.

This fictional interview provides a deeper look into the world of the Chronostorm and the role of time manipulation in environmental restoration. It blends scientific ideas with the narrative’s themes while offering an engaging way to explore these concepts. Let me know if you’d like to adjust any parts of it!

This quiz challenges both comprehension of key plot points and deeper understanding of the scientific concepts that drive the story.

Quiz: Understanding the Story

**1. What is the *Chronostorm* and how does it impact the environment?**

a) A natural weather event that slows down time and accelerates pollution breakdown. b) A temporal weather phenomenon that warps spacetime and accelerates environmental decay. c) A time machine that allows people to travel to the future. d) A type of hurricane that affects only coastal regions.

2. Why did the team travel to the year 2050?

a) To study the effects of the Chronostorm on the environment at a critical tipping point. b) To prevent the rise of plastic waste in the ocean in the year 2050. c) To stop a man-made climate disaster. d) To gather data about space-time anomalies in the past.

**3. How does the *Temporal Environmental Stabilizer (TES)* work to repair the environment?**

a) It speeds up the process of plastic breakdown. b) It manipulates spacetime to stabilize the flow of time and heal ecosystems. c) It creates artificial storms to clean the ocean. d) It sends people back in time to undo pollution.

**4. Which of the following is *not* a result of the Chronostorm?**

a) Time fluctuations that distort the ocean's ecosystems. b) Rapid breakdown of pollutants into toxic byproducts. c) Creation of new, toxic species that are harmful to marine life. d) Stabilization of ocean currents and weather patterns.

**5. What is the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, and how does it evolve in the story?

a) A small floating island of plastic that remains unchanged over time. b) A massive collection of marine debris that evolves rapidly due to spacetime distortions. c) An area where time is slowed down, preventing any decomposition. d) A section of ocean that is cleaned by the Chronostorm.

**6. What does the *Temporal Environmental Stabilizer (TES)* do to the Chronostorm?**

a) It amplifies the effects of the storm. b) It completely eliminates the storm. c) It stabilizes time and temperature to reverse the damage caused by the storm. d) It sends the storm into the past, preventing it from happening.

**7. In the story, how does *chaos theory* relate to the Chronostorm?**

a) It explains how the storm is caused by unpredictable weather patterns. b) It describes how small changes in spacetime lead to large, catastrophic consequences. c) It shows how pollution is naturally cleaned over time. d) It describes how time travel affects environmental outcomes.

Answers:

b

a

b

d

b

c

b

[harmonyhealinghub]

The Hidden Island Shaina Tranquilino September 11, 2024

Captain Jonah Hale had heard tales of the hidden island for as long as he could remember. An uncharted speck of land somewhere in the vastness of the Pacific, it was whispered about in seafarers' taverns, a place where time stood still and the rules of the world ceased to apply. Most dismissed the stories as mere sailor's lore, but Hale was not most people. He had spent the better part of his life chasing legends, and this was the one that had eluded him.

For years, he had studied ancient maps, deciphered cryptic journals, and pieced together fragmented tales. His obsession led him to the darkest corners of the earth, but it wasn't until he found an old mariner in a remote village in Indonesia that he finally got the clue he needed—a set of coordinates, scrawled on a scrap of parchment, handed over with a trembling hand.

"The island is not of this world," the old man had warned, his eyes clouded with memories of things better forgotten. "Once you set foot on it, there's no telling what you'll find... or if you'll ever leave."

Undeterred, Hale set sail with a small crew aboard his trusty vessel, The Odyssey. They sailed for days through uncharted waters, where the sea was eerily calm, and the sky seemed perpetually overcast. It was as if the world held its breath in this place, waiting.

On the morning of the seventh day, the island appeared on the horizon, a silhouette against the gray sky. It was small, no more than a mile across, dominated by a single, towering mountain shrouded in mist. Hale ordered the crew to drop anchor in a sheltered cove, and as the boat rocked gently on the waves, he felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.

"This is it," he muttered to himself as he stepped into the dinghy that would take him ashore.

The beach was a stretch of white sand, untouched by footprints or time. Beyond the shore, a dense jungle loomed, its trees ancient and gnarled, their roots snaking across the ground like the tendrils of some subterranean beast. The air was thick with the scent of earth and something else—something sweet and cloying that Hale couldn't quite place.

As he ventured deeper into the jungle, he noticed that the usual sounds of nature were absent. There were no birds, no rustling leaves, no insects buzzing in the undergrowth. It was as if the island itself was holding its breath, waiting.

He pressed on, his heart pounding in his chest, until he came to a clearing at the base of the mountain. In the center of the clearing stood a stone archway, covered in vines and inscribed with symbols that were not of any language Hale recognized. The archway framed nothing but empty space, yet as he approached, he felt a strange pull, as if the very fabric of reality was thinner here, stretched to its breaking point.

Hale reached out a hand and touched the stone. The symbols began to glow with a soft, amber light, and the air shimmered as a portal materialized within the archway. Through it, he could see another world—a world bathed in golden light, where towering spires rose from a landscape of lush, verdant forests. The sight was both beautiful and terrifying, a glimpse into something beyond his comprehension.

He should have turned back then, but the island's pull was too strong. Steeling himself, Hale stepped through the portal.

The transition was seamless, like walking through a veil of water. On the other side, the air was warm and filled with the sound of distant music, a haunting melody that seemed to come from the very earth itself. He was in a vast, open plaza, surrounded by towering structures made of a stone that glowed with an inner light. The architecture was unlike anything he had ever seen, a blend of organic and geometric forms that defied the laws of physics.

As he wandered the empty streets, Hale realized that this was a city of the lost civilization he had read about in his research—a civilization that had somehow transcended the bounds of time and space. But where were its inhabitants?

He found his answer in the city's central square. At its centre stood a colossal statue of a figure clad in flowing robes, its hands raised as if in supplication. Around the statue's base were dozens of stone figures, their expressions frozen in fear and awe. It took Hale a moment to realize that these were not statues—they were people, petrified in an instant, caught in the midst of some cataclysmic event.

A deep sense of dread settled over him as he understood the island's curse. This was not a place where time stood still, but a place where time had been shattered. The civilization had tried to harness powers beyond their understanding, and in doing so, they had doomed themselves to an eternity trapped between worlds.

Hale felt the island's pull once more, a whisper in his mind urging him to stay, to become part of the island's eternal tableau. But he resisted, stumbling back toward the portal. As he passed through the archway, he felt a jolt, as if something had tried to cling to him, to drag him back.

He staggered out into the clearing, the jungle silent and oppressive around him. The portal flickered behind him and then vanished, leaving only the stone archway, cold and inert.

Hale wasted no time in returning to the beach, his heart pounding as he rowed back to The Odyssey. As the island receded into the distance, he could still feel its presence, a lingering shadow on the edge of his consciousness.

When he reached the ship, he ordered the crew to set sail immediately. As they left the cove, the island seemed to dissolve into the mist, as if it had never been there at all.

For the rest of his days, Captain Jonah Hale never spoke of what he had seen on the hidden island. But the memory of that place haunted him, a reminder that some mysteries are better left unsolved, and that there are forces in the world far beyond human understanding.

[besttimetogo2]

Mumbai Magic: Unveiling the Ideal Time to Visit the City of Dreams

Mumbai, the bustling financial capital of India, enthralls visitors with its vibrant energy, rich history, and mouthwatering cuisine. But navigating its unique climate can be tricky. The best time to visit Mumbai depends on what you crave from your experience. Let's delve into the city's seasons and uncover the perfect time for your dream Mumbai adventure.

Winter Wonderland (October to February):

Widely regarded as the best time to visit Mumbai, winter paints the city in a warm and welcoming light. Daytime temperatures hover between a comfortable 23-32 degrees Celsius, making sightseeing a delightful experience. Explore iconic landmarks like the Gateway of India or Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, without breaking a sweat. Evenings are pleasantly cool, perfect for strolling along the famed Marine Drive promenade or indulging in Mumbai's renowned street food scene. This period also coincides with several vibrant festivals, including the spectacular Ganesh Chaturthi celebrations and Christmas festivities.

Monsoon Magic (June to September):

Mumbai transforms into a lush paradise during the monsoon season. Witness the city washed clean, with cascading waterfalls and a vibrant green landscape. For the adventurous traveler, this can be an ideal time to visit as there are fewer crowds and potentially lower hotel rates. However, be prepared for heavy downpours that can disrupt travel plans. Mumbai's natural beauty truly shines during the monsoon, but pack an umbrella and be flexible with your itinerary.

Summer Sizzle (March to May):

Mumbai's summer can be a challenging time for some visitors. Temperatures soar, reaching up to 40 degrees Celsius, coupled with high humidity. However, if you don't mind the heat, this season offers some unique experiences. Catch a cricket match, India's most beloved sport, or explore the vibrant nightlife scene. Early mornings and evenings provide some respite from the heat, making them ideal times for sightseeing. This can also be a budget-friendly time to visit Mumbai, with potentially lower hotel rates.

Festival Fanatics: Celebrate Year-Round!

Mumbai pulsates with a vibrant festival scene throughout the year. Immerse yourself in the colorful Ganesh Chaturthi celebrations, witness the grandeur of Diwali, the Festival of Lights, or lose yourself in the joyous beats of Ganeshotsav. Be aware that festivals can lead to larger crowds and potentially higher accommodation rates.

Ultimately, the best time to visit Mumbai hinges on your preferences.

Craving pleasant weather and outdoor adventures? Winter is the clear winner.

Seeking a budget-friendly adventure and don't mind the rain? The monsoon season might be perfect.

Looking for a unique cultural experience and are comfortable with the heat? Summer offers its own charm.

Bonus Tip: Pack versatile clothing! Mumbai's weather can vary depending on the season. Light, breathable fabrics are ideal year-round. An umbrella is a must-have during the monsoon, and a light jacket might be useful in air-conditioned spaces.

So, pack your bags and get ready to experience the magic of Mumbai! This dynamic city offers something for everyone, no matter what time of year you choose to visit.

[umaraheja]

Exploring Cafes in Bangkok and Scuba Diving Wonders

Thailand offers a captivating blend of experiences. Bangkok, the bustling capital, is enticed by its vibrant street food scene and trendy cafes. Venture beyond the city and discover a world of underwater wonder with scuba diving adventures in Thailand's crystal-clear waters. This itinerary combines the best of both worlds, allowing you to experience the unique cafe culture of Bangkok before diving into the breathtaking marine life of the Andaman Sea or Gulf of Thailand.

Bangkok's Buzzing Cafes

Bangkok's cafe scene caters to every taste and budget. Independent cafes with artisanal coffee and locally-sourced ingredients are popping up around the city. Fuel your day with a creamy latte and a flaky croissant at a minimalist cafe in the Thonglor district. For something more artsy, explore the hipster havens of Ari, where cafes double as art galleries and co-working spaces. Afternoon tea connoisseurs can indulge in elegant settings like The Mandarin Oriental or Authors' Lounge, a charming cafe housed in a historic bookstore.

Beyond the Caffeine Fix

Bangkok's cafes aren't just about coffee – they offer a glimpse into Thai culture. Many cafes incorporate traditional elements like ornate wood carvings and silk fabrics into their decor. Take a break from sightseeing at a charming "baan yen" (cold house), where locals gather to sip on iced Thai tea and cool down from the tropical heat. In the evening, head to a rooftop cafe for panoramic city views and a refreshing drink.

Diving into Adventure

After exploring Bangkok's cafe culture, it's time to delve into the underwater world. Thailand boasts some of the world's most spectacular dive sites, catering to both beginners and experienced divers. The Similan Islands in the Andaman Sea are renowned for their pristine coral reefs teeming with colorful fish, manta rays, and even whale sharks.

Underwater Paradises

For a truly unforgettable experience, head to Koh Tao, a small island in the Gulf of Thailand known as a diving mecca. Here, you can obtain your PADI certification or embark on dives to explore vibrant coral reefs and shipwrecks. Off the coast of Phuket, discover the Phi Phi Islands, where underwater caves and dramatic rock formations create a unique diving landscape. The clear waters surrounding Koh Lanta offer excellent visibility for spotting playful dolphins and majestic sea turtles.

From City Buzz to Ocean Bliss

This itinerary showcases the diverse experiences that Thailand offers. Bangkok's lively cafes provide a perfect starting point, allowing you to fuel up and immerse yourself in the local scene before diving into the breathtaking underwater world. So, pack your bags, grab a delicious Thai iced tea, and get ready to create unforgettable memories in the Land of Smiles.

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝕭𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖓 𝕾𝖓𝖆𝖗𝖊

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: This one, I have mixed feelings about.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊: I do NOT condone these actions. The process of these actions or the after effects of these actions. Read these types of story’s advisedly.

TW // SMUT/NSFW, Noncon, Biting/Marking, Cervix, Mating Press, Overstimulation, Body Horror, Death, Yandere Themes, Jumps Straight Into It.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°|

You cry out, sobbing into the sheets. Your hands gripping and twisting the silky fabric. The scent of woody amber choking you as your body bounces at his harsh thrusts. His hands on your waist pinning you in place.

“Xa’Vor! Please!” You beg at the captain in front you, attempting to stop or at least slow his brutal pace with your hand. Your fingers barely skimming his scarred thigh before he growls out. Taking your hand in one of his that gripped around your waist and pinning it above you, his sweaty, scarred chest pressing up against your breasts.

“No pleas will save you from your foolishness.” Xa’Vor snarls into your ear. The hairs on the back of your neck unwillingly picking up at his dark tone. His fingers threading through your own above you. Keeping you pinned in both places.

“I-I had to!” You whined, trying to reason your own “foolishness.” Whimpering out when he snarls again and pistons back through your burning walls. Your jaw clenching at the overwhelming pleasure and pain that he gives you. “I-can’t be bonded t-to you!”

He snarls again, giving you a hard thrust up against your cervix while you cry out. Your back arching into his chest. Your body shaking with tears running down your cheeks as you whimper at his tone. “You are in no position to spill such ill judgement. I am your bonded. Don’t reject that from me.”

Your eyebrows scrunch up in pain and pleasure. One of your hands clawing at Xa’vors hand that pinned it down. No doubt creating some pressure marks into his calloused fingers while your other hands grips and pulls at his bed sheets. Your moans and whimpers of pain being suffocated by his own mouth.

You haven’t meant to find these… legionnaires on your way to complete a mission. It was never the goal, the intention. It was never to have happened. To be bonded to an Astartes. It was a very strict rule.

‘Never have a bond.’

That was one of the many rules of the foundation. Said it was to even the “playing field” of war and operations and it was correct. There wasn’t a time where there was an Astartes in the way, cutting people down like “grates of cheese” the commander had put it. It made it much easier to get your tasks done without the influence of a Space Marine, Chaos or Loyalist.

‘If you find yourself with a Space Marine that wants to be close, leave them. Break that bond. Even if it’s not a bond, you are not to be around any Astartes.’

You remember what your instructor would say. Permitting many to never even look at a Space Marine unless suspicious of them of having a bond with you. That was the only time the people were permitted to look in the direction of a Space Marine. Other times they were just training with one another or simply being tasked with going out and surveying the area and people.

They were not to look back either, but it was incredibly hard to do so with a whole warband, 5 to be more precise.

No one knew where they had come from then. Possibly too focused on getting the mission done quickly. Their black, armored body’s launching out of the thick fog like some sort of phantom. Their talon-like gauntlets extending out as they roared out. Spooking the rest of the group when they turned to looked at their fellow soldier that was once alive. Their body being impaled onto the metal talons of the Space Marine, making many realize why they didn’t want us to be bonded to one.

Their power is unfair.

You saw the group being slaughtered that day with unnatural ease. Their limbs splayed all around you, still fresh off the torso. Some even being ripped into half by the waist and ribs, guts still pumping near the body or up in a dead tree. It was an experience you did not wish you were in, even for an enemy. It was like stalking through a horror forest; still does. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint where they would come from, but they certainly can. That part was very clear.

You look away for one second and suddenly the person protecting your back is gone. Their gasping screams being the only thing you can hear out in the distance before their body would plop right in front of you. The face of deathly fear stoned onto all their features. Their limbs somewhere else as they would bleed out from where the limb was ripped from, despite being already dead.

‘If you find yourself trapped; cornered. Sacrifice is your only way out. Do not attempt to talk. Explode yourself. Leave no meat left to provide of yourself.’

You remember another saying from the instructor. Your hand quickly digging through your vest for the grenade while you took very quick, but cautious steps around you. Your eyes looking all around you for anything that didn't seem normal in this damned forest. Your heart beating in your chest as the same sentence replayed in your mind.

'Explode yourself.' 'Explode yourself.' 'Explode yourself.' 'Sacrifice is your only way out.' 'Leave no meat left to provide.'

Your gaze focuses on the big shadow emerging from the fog with a low growl. Your hand gripping onto the grenade in your vest and pulling it out, fingers threating it to pull the pin when the rest of the group decides to show themselves, surrounding you with their own warning growls. Their talons twitching in anticipation.

Keeping a close eye on them. You watched as they circled you, making you really feel like you were being hunted and played with. Your fingers itching to just pull the pin, but you were not going to unless you could take at least one down with you or maybe they can leave you alone and let you continue your mission.

The smaller one suddenly shoots forward, your fingers instantly pulling the pin, taking a step back. Your body falling back in effort to keep the grenade close to your body when the Space Marine pins you down to the ground and snatches the grenade and throws the grenade off somewhere else.

You give your own growls and snarls at the Space Marine while he has you down. Sudden dread being washed onto your shoulders. Your hands struggling to get anything through his black armor, cutting them on the sharp edges of his armor as the grenade explodes somewhere off in the distance. Your desperation to get out of his hold growing.

“Your thoughts are elsewhere. Bring them back to me.” Xa’vor growls. Moving his hand from your waist to thread and grip at your hair, pulling your head back, exposing your neck to him.

“I’ll r-reject you as I please.” You growl out between your pitiful moans. Pissed from the memory of your team being killed around you. Pissed that you couldn’t escape their grasp once more. Having to be pinned underneath their bodies like a whore.

“You’re boldness is—”

“Reasonable, you think I could care for you?” You snap, your eyes looking down into his own and seeing the hurt in his deep red eyes, his hips stilling. “I do not care. I am simply to complete a mission, that is all. I’m not here to care, to provide, to love.”

“I’ll never be bonded to you or the others. Not you, not Atherth, not Vai’ssir, Zervos or Xekon—!”

You suddenly choke on your own breath, your head being pulling back to its limit. His teeth dangerously latched very close to the soft part of your neck, drawing blood as his cock pushes up painfully up against your cervix before dragging all the way back out and all the way in again. His arms wrapping around your body tightly, trapping you to him, putting you in a type of mating press. His hand still holding your hair in place.

Breathless moans leave your mouth as his pace is absolutely brutal, hitting up against your cervix every time. Numbing your legs with each deep, quick thrust. Savage growls hissing through his teeth as he inches them more into your skin. Feeling like daggers were being stabbed all over your body. You couldn’t tell if you should breathe or scream out at such brutality.

You couldn’t even tell when his stilled inside of you. All your nerves too focused on the pain sprouting all over your body like fire. You could only hear as he groans and growls. His hips rolling out his climax as far as he could. His seed marking your fluttering walls and dripping down his cock and balls, onto the bed sheets.

“That’s is not your choice to make.” Xa’vor quietly rumbles, carefully taking his teeth out of your shoulder as you twitch at the feeling. His tongue lapping up all the blood he has smeared across your chest and his sheets. “No matter how long you refuse our bond.”

“You are still ours. I will make sure of that.” He states; promises. Slowly dragging his cock out of your walls with a groan and a whisper in his language.

“X-Xa’Vor.” You whine at him in pain at the movement of anything. Body prickling in overstimulation as he purrs at you, trying to put you at ease. His head gently nuzzling into your neck.

“No matter what it will cost me.”

[stevishabitat]

Baltimore bridge collapse: The decline of Twitter as measured by disasters - Vox

https://www.vox.com/technology/24113765/twitter-x-misinformation-baltimore-bridge-collapse

The same conspiracy-theory-peddling personalities who spammed X with posts claiming that Tuesday’s Baltimore bridge collapse was a deliberate attack have also called mass shootings “false flag” events and denied basic facts about the Covid-19 pandemic. A Florida Republican running for Congress blamed “DEI” for the bridge collapse as racist comments about immigration and Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott circulated among the far right. These comments echo Trump in 2019, who called Baltimore a “disgusting, rat and rodent infested mess,” and, in 2015, blamed President Obama for the unrest in the city.

As conspiracy theorists compete for attention in the wake of a tragedy, others seek engagement through dubious expertise, juicy speculation, or stolen video clips. The boundary between conspiracy theory and engagement bait is permeable; unfounded and provoking posts often outpace the trickle of verified information that follows any sort of major breaking news event. Then, the conspiracy theories become content, and a lot of people marvel and express outrage that they exist. Then they kind of forget about the raging river of Bad Internet until the next national tragedy.

I’ve seen it so many times. I became a breaking news reporter in 2012, which means that in internet years, I have the experience of an almost ancient entity. The collapse of the Francis Scott Key bridge into the Patapsco River, though, felt a little different from most of these moments for me, for two reasons.

First, it was happening after a few big shifts in what the internet even is, as Twitter, once a go-to space for following breaking news events, became an Elon Musk-owned factory for verified accounts with bad ideas, while generative AI tools have superpowered grifters wanting to make plausible text and visual fabrications. And second, I live in Baltimore. People I know commute on that bridge, which forms part of the city’s Beltway. Some of the workers who fell, now presumed dead, lived in a neighborhood across the park from me.

The local cost of global misinformation

On Tuesday evening, I called Lisa Snowden, the editor-in-chief of the Baltimore Beat — the city’s Black-owned alt-weekly — and an influential presence in Baltimore’s still pretty active X community. I wanted to talk about how following breaking news online has changed over time.

Snowden was up during the early morning hours when the bridge collapsed. Baltimore’s X presence is small enough that journalists like her generally know who the other journalists are working in the city, especially those reporting on Baltimore itself. Almost as soon as news broke about the bridge, though, she saw accounts she’d never heard of before speaking with authority about what had happened, sharing unsourced video, and speculating about the cause.

Over the next several hours, the misinformation and racism about Baltimore snowballed on X. For Snowden, this felt a bit like an invasion into a community that had so far survived the slow death of what was once Twitter by simply staying out of the spotlight.

“Baltimore Twitter, it’s usually not as bad,” Snowden said. She sticks to the people she follows. “But today I noticed that was pretty much impossible. It got extremely racist. And I was seeing other folks in Baltimore also being like, ‘This might be what sends me finally off this app.’”

Here are some of the tweets that got attention in the hours after the collapse: Paul Szypula, a MAGA influencer with more than 100,000 followers on X, tweeted “Synergy Marine Group [the company that owned the ship in question] promotes DEI in their company. Did anti-white business practices cause this disaster?” alongside a screenshot of a page on the company’s website that discussed the existence of a diversity and inclusion policy. That tweet got more than 600,000 views. Another far-right influencer speculated that there was some connection between the collapse and, I guess, Barack Obama? I don’t know. The tweet got 5 million views as of mid-day Wednesday. Being online during a tragic event is full of consequential nonsense like this, ideas and conspiracy theories that are inane enough to fall into the fog of Poe’s Law and yet harmful to actual people and painful to see in particular when it’s your community being turned into views. Sure, there are best practices you can follow to try to contribute to a better information ecosystem in these moments. Those practices matter. But for Snowden, the main thing she can do as her newsroom gets to work reporting on the impact of this disaster on the community here is to let time march on. “In a couple days, this terrible racist mob, or whatever it is, is going to be onto something else,” Snowden said. “ Baltimore ... people are still going to need things. Everybody’s still going to be working. So I’m just kind of waiting it out,” she said “But it does hurt.”

[sitoro]

Creative ways to store your outdoor furniture

Creative ways to store your outdoor furniture

Imagine being able to enjoy your clean outdoor space without having to worry about where to put your big pieces of furniture when the weather changes or a storm hits. If you want to get the most out of your patio, porch, or yard, you can turn it into a place you can enjoy all year! These tips will help you store your furniture in a way that looks good and keeps it safe:

Built-in Beauty:

Deck Boxes: Deck boxes are tried-and-true hits for a reason! Pick deck boxes that can stand up to the weather and are made of long-lasting materials like teak or composite wood that will suit your furniture well. For more use, choose a top with built-in chairs.

Banquettes with Storage: Beautiful built-in benches with hidden storage spaces underneath make the most of space for both sitting and storage. Ideal for keeping pillows, throws, and other outdoor necessities.

Ottoman Magic: Ottomans with built-in storage are great for saving room. Pick ones made of waterproof cloth that can hold a lot of things, like toys, blankets, or even gardening tools.

Folding and Stacking Wonders:

Folding Chairs and Tables: Buy furniture that can be folded up and stored easily. Look for aluminum choices that are light and have strong features that make folding and unfolding easy.

Stackable Seating: Stools and chairs that can be stacked are great for small rooms. Pick items made of light plastic or aluminum that are easy to stack and take up little space when you're not using them.

Nesting Tables: These amazing space-saving devices have tables that fit nicely under each other, making storing even better. Great for patios and decks that aren't very big.

Creative Ways to Hide:

Furniture Covers: Buy protective covers that are made to fit the materials of your furniture. Make sure they can breathe so that wetness doesn't build up and mildew doesn't grow.

Do-It-Yourself Covers: For unique, low-cost choices, turn old curtains or fabric into handmade covers. Remember to pick materials that won't break down in bad weather and make sure there is enough airflow.

Storage Tents: Portable storage tents are a good option for bigger sets of furniture. For safety all year, choose choices that are waterproof, flexible and have strong frames.

Vertical Solutions:

Wall-Mounted Storage: Hang shelves, hooks, or pegboards on the wall to use vertical room and store tools, plants, or smaller pieces of furniture. This keeps them off the ground and makes room on the floor.

Hanging Baskets: Organizers and waterproof boxes can be hung on walls or fences to store gardening tools, toys, or small decorative items. This makes the most of the room and adds a touch of charm.

Potting Benches with Storage: If you want to store planting tools, seeds, and pots, choose a potting bench with drawers or other built-in storage spaces. This keeps everything in order and easy to get to.

Beyond the Basics:

Consider Multi-Functional Pieces: Look for furniture that can do more than one thing. Choose benches with built-in plants, ottomans with storage, or tables with tops that can be taken off and used as trays.

Materials That Won't Get Wet: Pick storage units and furniture made from materials that won't get wet, like wood, aluminum, or marine-grade plastic. This makes sure it lasts a long time and requires little upkeep.

Think Outside the Box: Come up with new ideas! You can turn old boards into a coffee table with storage space underneath them, or you can use old tires to make pots with seats built right in.

The Good Thing About Sitoro:

Sitoro, an Indian company that manufactures outdoor furniture in Pune, knows how important it is to come up with new ways to store things. What they offer:

Durable, weather-resistant furniture: Made from teak wood, powder-coated aluminum, and other high-quality materials, Sitoro pieces are made to last, so you won't have to store them as much.

Multi-use designs: Sitoro has furniture like chairs with plants and ottomans with storage that can help you make the most of your room and use.

Expert craftsmanship: They pay close attention to every detail to make sure that the furniture is strong and won't rust, so it doesn't need much upkeep or storage.

Customization options: You can change the furniture to fit your needs and the space you have, making it the perfect way to store things in your outdoor oasis.

By using creative storage ideas, you can turn your outdoor space into a stylish and comfortable place to be all year. Don't forget that quality counts! Work with Sitoro to make a beautiful and useful outdoor place that doesn't need much storage and will give you years of pleasure. Let your imagination run wild, check out these fresh ideas, and let Sitoro help you make the perfect outdoor space that is free of junk and ready to use all year!

[ask-paradox-and-friends]

More round ideas.

Gim Sigfired vs Rudra

A man born of two Hawaiian demigods (storms and rain getting with volcano goddess) and the grandfather of Paradox the living apocalypse who somehow in his timeline only he became a minor god of earthquakes. (His intro he stomps out with the whole area shaking and cracking with each step he comes out in old denim pants and boots along with a button up tacky Hawaiian shirt that's blue and white with wooden buttons.) VS the Hindu god of storms and weather who's also Shiva's brother. (He walks in patting down a cloud takes a second to stretch and waves to his friends.)

Intto Midoriya VS Aphrodite

The battle of the over protective mothers.

The goddess of adult love and beauty along with sex who sees all actions done to her as flirty or slights. But who treats anyone getting too close to her son as enough reason to try murder her several times over and the grandmother of The Mighty Hero Deku who was so against any criminal or hero male getting too close to her daughter that she got help from her husband and took control of the villains in her district of Japan then taught her daughter all the tricks needed to hold every leash and mentored her grandson in the ways of street and gang fighting.

*aphrodite comes in being carried by her golem servants and puts on her gear. (Sparta saw her as a war goddess and she took some gear from Ares's spartan daughter. [Yes he has a daughter from sparta]) she brushes her hair aside glaring at Heimdall only for loud Witch like cackles to echo out as a motorcycle crashes through the door making sparks everywhere and she damn near runs Heimdall over as uses a hook and chain to anchor her bike to the ground as she gets out in her old biker gear. She's spinning the chain around. Also 6ft elegant woman goddess vs 5 ft masculine gang woman with biker clothes and a chain whip for weapons. Also for added hilarity she's wearing her husband's old marine jacket and using his firearms which had to be custom made for his 7' 8" muscular self.)

Cthulu vs Nxyielite

The high priest and most well known of the old gods who rule over the space between spaces and the giant primordial god empress of the Void Lovecraft's main baddie vs the inspiration of every God and goddess of death and darkness in the Cometverse.

Chtulu:*laughs as he walks into a arena that's an open sea.* which little insect am I crushing?

Nxyie:*growing in size as she walks in causing the fabric of reality to tear as the space around her warps and breaks.* me little man. Now I've been told the humans saw me and my friend LOR and based all creatures if the void and even your look based off us. And I must say you Hentai faced fuckstick. You're the biggest failure of the Void SINCE AZOROTH!

Okay so I have a few round ideas and their themes.

Alexis 'Dolly' Loveheart (Jamaerica I like to headcannon Dolly lives in a world like The Ace Attorney games and I'm sure that's how the game describes the area the games take place in.) VS Hera

The mortal mother with 20+ children and the 'Queen of Magic' (main Magic authority in my verse.) VS the wife of zues and queen of the gods. The mother who took any child in and got her reputation as a mother to all while being a baddass VS the queen who's well known for unjustly punishing the mortals taken advantage of by Zues and the children of the affairs. (Seriously Hera SMITE HIS ASS) ones a great mother ones pretty crap.

*after their intros.*

Hera:ugh...how unsightly..I actually pity your children they have to have a ugly marionette doll as a mother.

Dolly:*whos wearing her old workout uniform* (Purple yoga pants a pink shirt crop top and some workout sneakers her devine weapon is pretty much fingerless boxing gloves mixed with spiked brass knuckles.) *after winking to her husband who turns into a tomato* better to look like a doll then to throw your son off a mountain.

Hera:*readying her staff* curb your tounge!

Dolly:37 children and I don't recall you caring for any of them.

Hera:I have 2.

Dolly:oh wow just erase Hephaestus huh? Well you are bad at this. You seemingly play favorites with the gods. You join in mock Ares. You don't watch any other of the kids zues had now I know it sucks to be cheated on. I have 3 exs after all. But..last I check Zues is a shit father. And you..could of at least watch the kids. I mean you are the Goddess of family. And you ditched one son humiliate another I haven't even seen your daughter in YEARS and you've tried to kill every other damn child! And let's not forget one tiny detail.

Hera:*swings her staff* I will not take advice from you!

Dolly:*punches her in the face.* ZUES IS YOUR BROTHER!

(Round one.)

[stra-tek]

Which Star Trek bed would you want to sleep on?

Pike (TOS) the first episode of Star Trek brings us the first bed. A basic setup, a single. Square pillow. I guess it does the job but who would want to spend 5 years sleeping there?

Kirk (TOS) I strongly suspect this is Pike's bed with some shimmery fabric over it. It looks hard as a slab of concrete under that fabric, though. An iffy long pillow that would make sleeping on your side awkward. No blanket. 5 years of back pain guaranteed.

Kirk (TMP) here we have a bizarro bed/sofa hybrid (far right) Looks softer than his TOS bed, but trying to sleep with your head on that back rest will be a killer. And the storage above would make sitting on it like a sofa very awkward. Again, blankets do not seem to exist in the future.

Picard (TNG) a blanket!! But another weird and awkward looking long pillow. Resembles Kirk's TOS bed likely intentionally, but softer. Lovely windows but no curtains or blinds, so aliens with telescopes are free to watch what you do alone in your room.

Bashir (DS9) a thin mattress over a metal frame, looks like cheap shit. At least he has a blanket.

NX-01 (ENT) junior officers get bunk beds! They look functional and have pillows. Would not want to be sleeping in the top bunk when a space battle breaks out, though. Imagine waking up in mid air with the floor rushing at your face.

Uhura and Gaila's cadet dorm (ST'09) has very comfy looking very modern day-looking beds with proper pillows and storage underneath. The best so far, by far. Life on 23rd century Earth is lush.

Michael Burnham's bed (DSC) resembles a prison bunk, which was likely intentional considering her season one plotline. But! Proper pillow! Blanket!

Boimler, Mariner etc (LWD) Yikes. Officers get rooms with beds very similar to Picard's in Next Gen, but the lower deckers live in a hallway. Zero privacy. At least Uhura's similar cadet bunk in SNW has a sliding door to give her some alone time, even if it likely feels like she's in a coffin.

Pike (SNW) we end with a rebooted version of where we began, and this time Pike has the bed of a king. Proper pillows. Blankets. It's massive. Windows with blinds. The best Star Trek bed of all, could easily spend 5 years here.