#quarry island

[greenmansgrove]

I’m trying to get back into the habit of evening walks/hikes, and after much deliberation this afternoon, I decided it was time to visit Quarry Island, which is off trail from Big Rivers Regional Trail. I was told it was a good place to find rocks — I’m on the hunt for some nice, round basalt. I found no rocks, since the waters were so high, but the island was gorgeous. You can see it from the overlook (first picture). I had to cross a railroad and wasn’t sure I was allowed out that way, but there was no one to stop me and I’m trying to build confidence anyway. The trail was on the map, so… off I went.

This area is known as Bdote to Dakota people, which is where the Minnesota and Mississippi rivers meet and lakes have sprung up. It is where many of the Dakota peoples originated, according to their stories. There are many beautiful plaques featuring Dakota (hi)stories and artwork. It was wonderful to read them and hear decolonizing insights about the advancements of the Dakota peoples and their stewardship of the lands before settlers arrived.

[ID: In the past, the Dakota people had no medical facilities or universities. Yet they survived and contributed to the world’s advancement through their own resources and systems of laws, customs, educational systems, and storytelling. The messaging features share Oceti Sakowin (Seven Council Fires) stories, creation stories commom to all Dakota people, and Hitunkakan Stories, traditional teaching stories that are specific to this landscape, so visitors may learn about Dakota worldviews and experience a gift of cultural knowledge. This project engaged Dakota elders, who are known first language Dakota speakers, and Dakota community members. Stories and lessons were selected with the intention to be appropriate for sharing with a larger audience. However, Dakota people have many versions of these stories, and they are all correct. Hecetu: this is so. This is Dakota Land. End ID]

The first and last couple sentences of this plaque really struck me, not out of surprise, but because it is rhetoric that would immediately shake up common white misconceptions about Indigenous lives and histories. Even as minor and obvious as these insights are, I do think shaking white settlers from complacency with such directness is invaluable. This blog is fervently supportive of Indigenous Land Back efforts, and I remain grateful for the educational work of Dakota peoples in spaces such as these.

As I strode off into the marshlands, redwing blackbirds and bank swallows were flying all around (see video! — ignore the tornado sirens, it’s Weather Awareness Day). Ducks nested in the reeds. Quarry Island itself is covered in mature swamp oaks, with evidence of a healthy mast year in the scattered acorn caps. The rocks made a perfect trail to the highest point in the island, where a large, almost altar-like rock sat (photos 2-4). The top was eroded from rainwater, and I left a snail shell I’d found further down in its hollow, wondering if the snail had made it that high in life. I offered clean drinking water, too. The rain I’d prepared to meet (I brought an umbrella!) was making its way across the lake at me, but I had some time before it arrived.

On the other side of the island was evidence others had been through. There were many buckthorn stumps and piles of branches. Some past visitor had neglected the first rule of rock flipping: put the rock back where you found it. So, I did my best to replace them. I found evidence of fires, too, and they were fairly fresh, based on the smell. At least they were on the rocks and not in the wooded areas.

By the time I made it back to the center of the island that the path bisected, the rain was coming in and the sun was beginning to set, signaling my time to return. I reached the overlook again just in time for sunset and took the first image. The rain was blowing upwards at me from below the bluff, hence the specs in the image. As I turned back towards my car, I saw this rainbow!

This was probably among my top five (if not top three) favorite hikes I’ve taken since I moved to MN. I will have to return to hike the rest of the trails north and south. I suggested the nearby firepits as a ritual site for my grove, too, so maybe we will all hike out to Quarry Island in the future.

[inspiredlivingspaces]

IG vivirdesign - AI

[nichelleladonna]

remember when i crossed over total drama and the quarry loooool

[vamprnce]

literally don't remember if I posted these, but uploaded my trio shirt designs in acnh :)

codes:

Ryan: MO-0X51-49BR-TQ2H

Kaitlyn: MO-GMCD-629T-3YXY

Dylan: MO-8NC2-64XV-QRFK

[raurquiz]

#happybirthday #EvanEvagora #actor #model #elnor #startrekpicard #secretcity #fantasyisland #HomeandAway #TheQuarry #startrek57 @TrekMovie @TrekCore @StarTrek @StarTrekOnPPlus

[brendambois]

Here is a small headcannon

When the skr decided to connect to the old msr slate quarry, Duke, Handel, and Sam were ecstatic. Once the line had opened, the slate quarry became the most profitable slate quarry on the island. On the other buffer, the small raggedy blue mountain quarry was running on dimes money wise, and the mine engine and a faceless garatt engine wise. In all honesty, the bmq could make loads with their iconic namesake, "The Blue Mountains", due to te loads of slate in the hills of those peaks, but they were never in range because of their being only one engine who was able to either pull trains to lay rail or/and deliver the heavy slate to the harbours (where they have a contract for slate to

Scotland) so the trains would have to be juggled on a tightrope over lava type schedule. After a year and a half. The bmq had run down to their last $10, and the owner Jefferson Rheneas, was about to close up shop, when the manager of the Skarlowey said that they had a contract for the bmq, due to a spectral incident at the old quarry. The contract, you may ask, is to bring slate from the quarry to a construction site at Crovan's Gate to build a works for reparing, making and upgrading/updating any and all types of steam (fireless included), in return, the Skarlowey would by an engine for the bmq along with their purchase for a narrow guadge works shunter from Cuba. During the constructed of the newly nicknamed "Steamworks", the skr sent daily trains to work on building the quarry up, and during the calmest of days when trains were minimal, the skr would sometimes do construction trains to help build the quarry faster. A week before the new arrivals, "The Blue Mountain Quarry" finally finished the extention construction, and the morning of the arrivals the soon to be officially named "Stamworks" was finished. Unfortunately, during unloading of the new engines an incident occurred where the Cuban engine was accidentally knocked in to a shallow patch of water by the new Irish engine who would go to work at the quarry. Drowning in guilt that he had just killed an engine, the new quarry engine left for work as soon as he was steamed by his crew, who had been allowed to come with their engine. Luckily the yellow Cuban engine was fished out before any majior damage was done, and he got to atend the name christening and become the works very first repair and paint job. Que events of Blue mountain mystery. To this day still, the Steamworks get regular visits and the BMQ is the most profitable quarry on the Skarlowey Railway taking regular slate trains to Ulfstead castle making a tidy profit and getting regular trains of brakeroom snacks in return.

[ranger-kellyn]

normally, when it comes to my OCs, i typically just make them to do really nothing more than fill certain rolls. like in my fic, getaway car, i needed a manager for the sinnoh league, and a makeup artists, and all these different supporting cast characters.

i created all those characters to fill those roles, and never really expected anyone to think about them for more than however long they're on the page. every now and then i'd get someone saying they really liked my OCs for whatever story, and it always surprises me in the best way! but it's never really my intention. If people like them, great! if not, no worries!

for the first time ever, i'm working on an OC and just......praying people will love her as much as i'm starting to 😭

[bishopsbelova]

We (or I mostly) need to talk about Max, kind of dorky and dumb but totally loveable and completely in love with his girlfriend (even when she’s being dumb), who spends most the the time as a werewolf really and his first thought after changing back into a human - well second technically I guess since, he first thought was “why the fuck am I in a tree”, his first thought after that is Laura. 

[adriaticpulse]

Island Hopping Korčula: Škoji Archipelago

The Škoji Archipelago is a stunning group of islets located near Korčula, providing an idyllic destination for island hopping. This archipelago consists of small, uninhabited islands that are perfect for those seeking an escape into nature, crystal-clear waters, and a peaceful atmosphere. The name “Škoji” translates to “islands” in Croatian, and these islands are well-known for their untouched…

[alconteh]

Well, it's that time of year again!

In just two weeks, I'm back with Spooky Season! For 2024, we've got up to 21 games that I have carefully picked out!

We SHOULD have enough time for them all as I planned these out months in advance but either way, see you there!

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"By the 1930s a considerable state apparatus had emerged to monitor and regulate industrial conflict. At both federal and provincial levels labour codes had come about, in part, to forestall direct workers’ actions and allow capital time to prepare for strikes. Thus labour legislation from the Industrial Disputes Investigation Act of 1907 up to the Industrial Relations and Disputes Investigation Act of 1948 increasingly hedged in the rights of unionization and collective bargaining, while simultaneously attempting to solve capital-labour conflicts by means of an innovative “soft” approach. The state central and subcentral units embedded industrial relations in a massive legal structure designed to prevent or delay strikes and lockouts by means of an investigation and conciliation process. As Panitch notes (1977, 19)

This places such tremendous strategy restriction on labour and gives such a large role for the law and the courts to play, that the legitimation aspect of labour legislation in Canada’s case seems at least balanced if not actually overshadowed by the coercive aspect.

Yet, the state sought legitimacy of its policies. It attempted to carve out an autonomous sphere for itself in the arbitration of industry and in so doing secured consent from fractions of capital and sections of the trade union movement. Unlike earlier periods, by the mid-thirties, the state was not an artifice; it was able to mount counteroffensives with its own adjudicative machinery, and it had established a fragile legitimacy to counterbalance its coercive features.

In understanding state intervention in the Blubber Bay dispute a number of preliminary points should be noted:

The autonomy of the state, exercised vis-a-vis its arbitrator role, was highly limited. Even in its moment of conciliation, the state acted to safeguard capital and circumscribe labour.

Labour slowly diagnosed the situation, insisted upon its rights to unionize, fought back against the employer, and in the process the class character of the state became transparent.

Unable to resolve the dispute through bureaucratic means, the state resorted to coercive means; the use of police, courts, and prisons, against labour. That is, criminal justice was differentially applied in order to further weaken the labour movement.

...

From the onset, police, courts, and state departments operated in a visibly instrumental pro-company manner. Police constables enforced illegal eviction notices against Chinese workers so that the company could accommodate strike-breakers. They actively supported company blacklisting by directly recruiting a labour force of strike-breakers for the company. One constable recruited twenty new men by threatening to cut them off relief. The police further aided the employer by seldom enforcing public access regulations to telephone and telegraph service that were located on company property. Civil rights were not protected, indeed they were abused by illegal intimidation and arrest, and police violence against strikers. Some three months into the strike, and before the major riot in September, the community, the I.W.A., [International Woodworkers of America] and an opposition political party were calling for a government investigation into the activities of the police. Some twenty affidavits alleged police wrongdoings. Thus through commission and omission the police protected the property interests of the employer and ensured the maintenance of their operations.

Arrest charges are a further area revealing the instrumentality of the criminal justice system. In a minor fracas (separate from the riot to be discussed later) between police, strikers, company officials and strike-breakers, thirteen charges were laid (by the police) against the pickets, two against picket sympathizers, and none against the strike-breakers. It took the police six days to lay the charges. They were assisted in this by the company time-keeper, who was a party in the dispute, and four charges were against top union officials. Ten of the thirteen pickets were convicted of either obstruction or assault (three were top union officials), the two sympathizers were acquitted, and in the one case where the union charged the manager of the company with assault, he was not tried by a stipendiary magistrate, but by a nonprofessional, and was acquitted on the basis of police and company testimony (Burnell 1980, Ch. 4).

The judiciary itself was manipulated in favour of the company. In the aftermath of the riot in September, twenty-three strikers were arrested and charged, fifteen went to trial, three were acquitted, and twelve were convicted (eight for unlawful assembly and four for unlawful assembly and riot). Twenty-three strike-breakers were also charged; ten had hearings, but none went to trial. All were acquitted. The sole police constable facing legal procedures was, however, prosecuted and convicted. The differential outcomes are a result of direct intervention in the criminal justice process (Burnell 1980, Ch. 4). First, the Attorney-General’s office appointed judges and prosecutors in such a manner as to secure convictions against the union. They appointed competent lawyers as prosecutors, and selected the father of the Assistant District Prosecutor as trial judge. In the cases of the strike-breakers, they made sure (by order-in-council) that an “anti-strike” judge handled the hearing, and they appointed an elderly, ineffectual lawyer as the prosecutor. Second, they ordered the trials in a sequence that would maximize convictions of union members while minimizing the likelihood that strike-breakers would have to be tried. By having the strikers tried first, then the police constable, and finally preliminary hearings for strike-breakers, they were able to use police testimony (which was a large part of the prosecution’s case) before it became suspect. Moreover, by having the strikers prosecuted first, the defense at the preliminary hearings of strike-breakers could present the strikers’ testimony as unreliable (since they were convicted) and justify acquittals of all (Burnell 1980, Ch. 4). Third, the Attorney-General refused the request to try the strikers en masse or individually. Instead they opted for multiple trials by three’s or four’s which allowed frequent repetition of details of participation and grouping of easy convictions with the more problematic. Finally, the summing up of evidence favoured the police position. In the case of the first and only striker tried alone, the judge omitted recounting evidence of police “showdowns” and bolstered the moral character of the force.

... the police, Canada’s representatives of law and order, were faced with a serious situation at Blubber Bay... . If we had a venal police a corrupt one, or one so cowardly that it would not be prepared to take its life in its hands, then there would be no rule in Canada.

Moreover the same judge stated that the basic fact was whether the strikers were there at the time of the riot. He charged the jury that they should not be concerned with the context or aftermath.

It’s not important to decide who struck the first blow.... The testimony on ambushes does not belong here. . . .

In contrast, the hearings of strike-breakers did not find against them because they were on the wharf at the time of the riot. On the contrary, the judge provided the context of self-defence:

Company men did nothing to start trouble when they arrived. The disturbance was provoked by the strikers, and when it began the employees went to the assistance of the police, as it was their duty to do so.

To conclude, the judiciary reinforced the police and the company. Despite a multitude of charges of police misconduct, no summons were issued against them and attempted judicial enquiries were stymied. As Premier Pattullo put it:

What sort of force would we have if every time they took action they were met by irresponsible affidavits. We are not going to destroy their morale by having a threat held over their heads of a judicial enquiry over everything that may happen.

- John L. McMullan and R.S. Ratner, “State, Labour, and Justice in British Columbia,” in Thomas Fleming & L.A. Visano, Deviant Designations: Crime, Law and Deviance in Canada. Toronto: Butterworths, 1983. p. 30-33.

[augiewrites]

"valley reverie" - sebastian

summary: the timeline of sebastian and the farmer’s relationship based on canon dialogue

pairing: sdv sebastian x farmer

word count: 2.5K

a/n: this may be my magnum opus

The sun was beginning its descent behind the mountains when Sebastian emerged from the house for the first—and only—time that day.

He shot a glance to his mother and Demetrius, who were standing at the edge of their property, looking over the valley bathed in golden light. His mother sent a small smile back, followed by a pointed disappointed look at the carton of cigarettes held loosely in his hand. Demetruis didn’t acknowledge his existence.

Sebastian knew it was a nasty habit, but he spent most of his life with not much thought to the future—he was surprised he made it this far. Maybe his life would have been different if he had planned better; if he had considered for a moment that there was such a thing as life past sixteen, then eighteen, then twenty-one. He supposed he should start to consider a life past twenty-four, but quickly dropped the thought as he placed the cigarette between his lips and continued his stroll to the lake.

He saw it then, as his lighter sparked to life and helped the cigarette take eleven minutes off his.

Someone was sitting in his spot. A humanoid blob of denim focused intently on the bobber floating in the water.

He hesitated, then decided to keep moving—his trajectory now locked in past the stranger and across the rickety planks of wood to the smaller islands in the middle of the lake. His mother had been saying for years that she needed to build something more structurally sound, but had yet to get around to it.

As he got closer, he took in more of the scene. There was a muddy bucket next to the stranger, and he noticed a couple slimy carp flopping around inside. Whoever this was, they clearly didn’t have enough experience to catch the tricker creatures in the lake.

Just as he was about to slip past toward solitude, he locked eyes with the stranger. Their bored expression quickly turned to worry.

“Sorry, am I in your spot? Robin said it was okay for me to fish here.”

Recognition sparked in his brain—his mother had told him about the new resident of Pelican Town. The words she had used to describe them flashed behind his eyes: sweet, a little lost, cute. That last one was sent his way with an exaggerated wink and met with a scoff from him.

“Oh. You just moved in, right? Cool.”

The farmer didn’t respond, just looked on waiting for an answer to their question. Sebastian didn’t gratify them with a response, instead looking across the lake at the tree line and abandoned quarry.

“Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?”

The farmer scrunched up their mouth slightly, beginning to reel in their line. There was nothing but a limp worm dangling from the hook. Sebastian took note of the grieving look flashing on their face before it was gone in a blink.

“Better than where I was.”

Sebastian didn’t bother responding as the farmer heaved up the bucket—they were a lot stronger than they looked—and walked away without another word.

Robin smiled at the farmer with a wave and shouted goodnight before sending another disapproving look to her son.

_________________________________________

Sebastian heaved open the door of the house, exhausted from band practice. Sam was his best friend, and he enjoyed spending time with him more than he would admit, but the newest addition to the band was definitely a hindrance.

He didn’t dislike Abigail, and he couldn’t deny that she was a talented drummer, but he had been hoping for years that her little crush on him would fade away. He could only take so much of puppy dog eyes and over exaggerated laughter at his quips that definitely aren’t that funny.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts on how to shake off the purple-haired girl—more importantly, how to shake her off without actual confrontation—that he didn’t notice the farmer leaning against the shop counter until their voice pierced through. His mother was nowhere to be seen, so they had to have been talking to him.

“What? I didn't hear you...I'm busy thinking about something. What do you want?”

The farmer narrowed their eyes at him, leveling him with a glare. “You know, I get that you’d rather be listening to My Chemical Romance and jerking off to Nietzsche than interacting with a human being, but you really need to work on your people skills.”

Well, he hadn’t been expecting that.

He expected avoidance from the farmer, based on their first meeting and subsequent run-ins where they gave him a nod of acknowledgement before going back to acting like he didn’t exist.

He realized that the farmer wasn’t as timid and one-dimensional as he let himself think.

The moment was saved by Robin entering the shop room and dropping a workbench on the floor with a heavy thud. “You’ll make better use of this than I have lately—it’s pretty old,” she looked up from the dusty bench, noticing her son frozen in the doorway, “oh, hi Sebby.”

“Sebby?” the farmer questioned with a smirk.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, brushing past his mother to get to his lair.

“Sorry about him,” he heard his mother as he descended the stairs.

“It’s fine,” the farmer laughed, “he’s cool.”

He couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. _________________________________________

Sebastian looked down at the frozen tear in his hand with a neutral expression on his face, though his heart was quickening its pace.

“Gunther told me it’s fabled to be the frozen tears of a yeti.”

He met the farmer’s grin with one of his own, “I really love this. How did you know?”

They shrugged, “Seemed like some emo shit you’d be into.”

A breathy laugh escaped him before he could stop it. “Well…thanks.”

“No prob. I’ll keep an eye out for more when I’m in the mines.”

“The mines?,” his brow furrowed, “how far down did you go?”

“Not super deep, I think I stopped at sixty since it was getting late.”

Sebastian gaped at the farmer—who he now realized he really misjudged—as they shouldered their backpack and turned toward the door.

“Oh,” they stopped just shy of the threshold, “your code is wrong, by the way. Third line down.”

He looked to the screen, baffled, seeing that there was, in fact, a mistake in his code.

He began to ask the farmer how they knew that, but they were gone. _________________________________________

The sun was setting on the valley, and Sebastian found himself sitting by the lake’s edge with the farmer, who was reeling in sturgeon and bass with ease.

“I’m sure the city’s different for other people, but it was corporate hell for me,” the farmer spoke softly as they baited their hook—it was different than any bait he had ever seen, and the farmer had informed him that the wild man living behind their house had taught them the recipe.

Sebastian hummed, “I guess that makes sense.”

“You guess?” the farmer teased him, flicking water at his face.

He blew a puff of smoke in their face.

The farmer coughed, then began to laugh as they fanned the smoke out of their face, “asshole.”

Sebastian grinned, leaning back on the palms of his hands and gazing across the water.

They sat in comfortable silence as the farmer cast out their line and half-heartedly focused on the bobber—they didn’t really need it anymore, but liked the safety net.

“You and Sam are probably my only friends in this town.” Sebastian broke the silence, but continued looking straight ahead.

“Well I am very likable.”

Sebastian knocked their shoulders together with a scoff.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” _________________________________________

Sebastian was indifferent—and sometimes loathful—toward most events held in their little town, but tonight was an exception. It was hard to not be in awe of the midnight jellies, and he was excited for the farmer to see them for the first time.

They were perched at the edge of the dock, along with Sam and Abigail, their feet dangling inches above the water.

It was a lot colder than expected, and the farmer was bundled in his black jacket. He couldn’t help but feel bad about the sad glances Abigail was sending their way.

The farmer looked content, and Sebastian recalled something they told him at the beginning of the season—the used to be terrified of the ocean before moving to the valley.

He nudged their shoulder with his own. It didn’t take much effort—they were sitting a lot closer than he realized. A light blush dusted his cheekbones.

“I thought I saw something moving in there…” he pointed to the void of the ocean and leaned closer to their ear, whispering, “something big, something dark.”

The farmer’s eyes widened as they looked across the vast darkness before they narrowed and turned to him.

“Just trying to scare you...” Sebastian laughed.

The farmer smiled, knocking their knee against his, muttering an all too familiar “asshole.”

It wasn’t too long before Lewis sent out the first lantern, and the water surrounding the docks was filled with glowing jellyfish.

“It’s beautiful,” the farmer breathed out as their head landed on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” his eyes landed on a glowing green jelly before looking down at the farmer, “it is.” _________________________________________

Sebastian never saw the farm in its full glory—before the farmer’s grandfather grew old and passed away—but he had been there plenty of times when it was overgrown and abandoned.

He had told the farmer this as they sat on the newly installed swinging bench on their porch. They joked that they would be suing him for trespassing, since it was technically their property at the time, even if they hadn’t known it.

It was a chilly fall day, but the farmer had made a pot of coffee to keep them warm.

“I thought this was your busy season,” Sebastian lit up a cigarette and moved the ashtray closer to where he sat. It was a newer addition to the farmer’s decor. He thought about the prideful look on their face as they held it up and told him that Leah let them use her pottery wheel. It was painted with little creatures that looked like the much happier cousins of the slimes living in the caves.

The farmer hummed, holding their mug close to their face, but not taking a sip, “Yeah…a lot busier than I thought it would be, actually.”

He grinned at them, “so, you’re slacking today, huh?”

The farmer laughed.

“I’d rather hang out with your sorry ass than work.” Despite the insult, the farmer’s tone was soft and earnest. Sebastian felt his cheeks heat up.

“Could you picture me living on a farm? It seems ridiculous, but I have been thinking about it lately.”

“If I could do it, then so could you,” the farmer linked their pinky with his, “it’s a lot more freeing than you’d think.” _________________________________________

Boxes filled with Sebastian’s things lined the walls of the farmhouse, but Sebastian and the farmer lay in bed, choosing to ignore them. 

They had all the time in the world.

The farmer was twirling the pendant dangling from Sebastian’s neck, “there’s steam coming out of your ears, Seb,” the farmer giggled and smoothed out the wrinkle between his brows with their finger.

“I’ve just been thinking,” Sebastian turned his attention from the ceiling to the farmer, “The older I get, the less I'm drawn to the city. It had a certain mystique to it, once. But it turns out that was just a romantic fantasy. The city's so busy, so full of people... I don't belong there. I'm a loner.”

A beat.

“Present company excluded, of course.”

The farmer laughed, “Well I would hope so,” they tugged gently on the pendant, pulling him closer, “because you’re stuck with me.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer had joined his family for dinner, and his mother had shooed them away with one hand as she cooed at the bundle held tightly in her other arm.

The valley was coming to life, but the ghost of a winter chill was in the air. They settled down by the lake despite the cold. It was no longer his spot, but theirs.

The farmer was skipping stones across the lake when he grumbled about how being in that spot made him want a smoke.

“No one’s stopping you,” the farmer laughed.

“I am.”

The farmer still held a loose smile as they raised their eyebrows at him, “oh?”

“I'm trying my best to quit smoking now that we're married…” He avoided their gaze and brushed some mud on the palm of his hand onto his jeans, “I don't wanna die on you. It's a bad habit. I want to have a future together.”

A baby cried in the distance. Sebastian and the farmer smiled at each other. _________________________________________

The farmer was surprised to find Sebastian’s side of the bed empty when they woke up. It wasn’t a rare occasion, as they usually found Sebastian in the kitchen after a restless sleep, but he was nowhere to be found.

They couldn’t help but worry a little bit as they pulled on their boots and opened the screen door. They paused out of instinct to let the dog run out before them only to realize that the dog wasn’t hot on their heels like usual.

They had only gotten two steps onto the porch before a mass of fur and slobber crashed into their legs.

“Oh hello baby,” they cooed down at the dog as it rolled onto its back, breathing heavily out of excitement, “good morning stink.”

“Good morning to you too.”

The farmer was so caught up in giving the dog attention that they hadn’t noticed Sebastian leaning against the porch railing.

They straightened from their crouch, smiling at him as the dog whined from the loss of affection.

“I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I went ahead and fed the animals,” he pushed off the railing and took a few steps forward to fix a rogue piece of the farmer’s hair, “one less thing for you to do.”

“Thanks, Seb,” the farmer said softly, suddenly bashful, “I’m going to check on the pumpkins. Thought I could make some soup tonight if any of them are ripe.”

They took a few steps off the porch, “feel like being a country boy today? Or did you get your fix?”

He smiled, leaning his forearms against the railing, “I'll just watch you from here. I enjoy watching you.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer found themselves sitting on the porch swing once again. It was a mild summer evening, and he was looking on as a toddler played with the dog in the yard.

He tore his attention away from the rowdy scene in front of him to look at the farmer, who was curled up at his side reading a book. He felt his heart swell.

“This is so different from my old life, but I'm really starting to like it. I feel like I really belong here.”

The farmer looked up from the book in their lap, smiling.

“I don't often show it, but I'm really happy that I'm your husband. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.”

[envy-of-the-apple]

ive been really obsessed with your gojo/geto naga oneshots and asks lately it feels like literal brain rot at this point its so good. ive reread it 6 times lol

i was wondering though, what would Geto do if Gojo was just a little bit too heavy handed with you? to the point of a sprained or broken arm or leg. Would he get mad at Gojo or just mad in general that reader was hurt? Also how would they act in response to the injured reader who can't do basic tasks themselves, I personally think they would enjoy the fact she relied on them even more to even move now.

Reminder requests are still closed!!!! I just love this idea so so much holdon lemme-

Part one Part three

(Yandere, dark, implied forced relationships, noncon touching, biting, language barriers, drugging(?))

Top of the Food Chain pt2

Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader

Two days later, Satoru still wasn't allowed inside the cave.

You can hear him, hissing and clicking, right outside, hovering just behind the invisible line Suguru refused to let him pass. If you weren't already in so much pain, you would have found pity on the poor thing. He wasn't allowed in his own home, even though the incident wasn't entirely his fault.

Technically, Satoru saved you. It was yet again another escape attempt. Something you'd been doing a lot these days once you've figured out these beings' intentions with you. You'd gotten past the rock quarry this time, a new record. Your plan was filled with holes: there was no way to truly escape the island. You had no boat, no way to call for help. Still, you ran, forgetting that there were more dangerous things on this island other than two territorial serpent men.

It was a monster. There was no other way to describe it. Big, ugly, shiny spikes and sharp teeth, eyes dripping with bloodlust. You would have been eaten, killed, maimed, if Satoru hadn't caught up with you in time.

The only collateral was the loss of nearby plant life and your broken wrist.

That had been Satoru's fault. He'd pulled at you too hard at the hand. The remnants of adrenaline from the fight, his anger, anger made him too rough on your fragile body. He froze at the wet snap, and then you started screaming. That was how Suguru had found you. Despite how much Satoru clicked and hummed and tittered, from his mate's look, you doubted it helped his case.

Another lonely coo made you wince. Suguru only huffed, wrapping you tighter in his coils. They were already warm from your body heat. The numerous animal pelts helped your comfort too.

"Make him stop," you beg, "he's been going on for hours."

At that, Suguru lifts his head from the base of your neck. He tilts his head as he surveys you, and you can't help but think how awful you must look. Sickly-looking from the pain, clammy skin. He can't do much about your appearance, but the least he could do was shut Satoru up.

"What want?" Suguru asks, "water?"

At that, he picks up a sack filled with sea-smelling water. You wrinkle your nose, turning away, cocooning yourself within his coils. With the increased pain, your appetite has decreased, as well as your thirst. The stress of being trapped like this along with your broken wrist was starting to take its toll on your body.

Suguru makes a sound of disapproval, shuffling around behind you. You know he's still mad about the escape attempt, but he's concerned enough for your well-being to put his anger to the side for now. He'd helped wrap your wrist, using something stretchy and soft.

You raise your wrist up, inspecting the thin material wrapped around your wrist. You're not sure what it is, it's too silky to resemble cotton. It must be from the foliage around the island. Yet, another strange thing you'd never find the answer to.

There's another rumble coming from the Naga's chest. He wraps a hand around your chin, bringing your face closer. In his other, he holds the dripping sack.

"Suguru," it's too soft to be anything more than a whine, "it hurts too much to take anything right now. Stop."

"Hurt?" he asks.

To that, you gesture to your broken wrist. It may not have been broken, you were no doctor, so you couldn't say for certain. But considering you'd been in the same amount of pain for two days, it really didn't matter to you.

A click, before he's tossing a glare at the entrance of the cave. He'd already given Satoru a beating right before coming to coddle you. Despite being bigger than his mate, Satoru is docile enough to take them. Suguru had been acting more aggressive lately. You had a feeling it was your fault.

He'd been inspecting your wrist every so often, but you see a different look within his brown eyes now as he takes your injured hand. He carefully turns your palm over, pressing slightly into your wrist. When you yelp, he retracts.

"Hurt." Suguru confirms. You can only nod.

"Hurt. No drink? No eat?" You don't like the way he's talking. As if he's putting a puzzle piece together. Coming to a solution you won't like.

When you go to pull away, his grip only tightens.

"No hurt," he says it like a promise, as though you're a toddler and he's coaxing you into drinking a sour-tasting medicine. His lips part, revealing the fangs you've often seen him use on meat, on Satoru.

Never did you think he'd ever use them on you.

"Suguru," you're pleading, trying to move away when he bends down, his hair brushing your sweaty forehead. You can feel his breath on your neck.

"No hurt," he repeats, and then he bites down.

He lied, of course, he did. His teeth puncture your skin, tearing through like paper. You think you screamed, or maybe it was more akin to a pitiful whimper. In the background, you can hear someone hiss, Satoru maybe?

For a second, you feel everything, the pain, the puncture wound, Suguru lightly licking your neck.

And then, you feel weightless.

It's hard to describe, but your brain feels like it's turned to mush. Your body feels like you're on a soft cloud, just there, floating. In the back of your mind, you remember how dazed Satoru would get whenever Suguru bit him. At the time, you just thought he was lovestruck.

When Suguru pulls away, he's smiling. A trail of blood, your blood goes down his lip. You can barely keep your eyes on him, close to falling asleep.

"No hurt," he says. When he leans down to kiss you, you accept without a single fuss.

You don't remember much after that, but you remember accepting whatever Suguru put in your mouth. The panic in your body was non-existent as he held the water-sack above your lips, watching as your throat bobbed. You think he kissed you a few more times, but you're not too sure. You were a lot more averse to kissing before. It'd make sense he'd take advantage of it.

When you wake up again, you're in between two bodies. The pain in your wrist is still there, but not as horrible as before. You're still groggy, mind fuzzy. Whatever Suguru had given you was still in effect.

Satoru is the first to notice you're awake. Suguru and him must have made up during the time you were unconscious. He props himself up, peering down at you. With how dim the cave is, you can barely make out his features. He looks just as guilty as he had two days ago.

"Sorry," he mutters, "is sorry."

If you weren't still high, you might have laughed. When you continue to stare, he takes it in stride, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then your lips. You wince in distaste, leaning back.

"Stop," you say but don't fight when he licks at your jaw. You can barely move your fingers.

Panic is still far away, a distant call than anything alarming. It should worry you, but you still can't feel anything.

Suguru is at your back. You can hear his scales move across the cavern floor. He gives a hum, content as he curls himself around you. He doesn't seem to mind Satoru's touches. Your theory that they must have made up is unfortunately starting to strengthen.

You could barely manage Suguru's coddlings. You don't think you'll survive Satoru's.

"Sorry," he mouths into your neck. You can feel the grip on your waist starting to tighten. He stops, rising up to stare at you.

Blue, almost glowing.

"But no more leave."

You're coherent enough to piece together what he means. You can't escape Satoru. You can't escape Suguru. You can't leave this island. Running away is useless.

The nagas understood it. It's time you did too.

"Yes," you finally say, "no more leave."

[stardewremixed]

We need better marriage candidate advantages! Gifts, dinners, and occasional chores on the farm are nice, but....

Shane - starts taking care of the chickens and you get more eggs (double or triple from one chicken) or an extra chicken every year. Plus discounts at Marnie's. Oh and give me a room for Jas on the farm!!! Also he starts working at Pierre's after Joja closes and leads weekly AA meetings at the community center. Marnie also visits occasionally and brings gifts. Wanders into the forest sometimes and brings back forage.

Abigail - discounts at Pierre's, shopping on Wednesdays, and she goes adventuring with you in the mines (for some rare drops). Discounts at the Adventurer's Guild after she becomes a full-fledged member. Her parents visit on the farm and you get occasional gifts from them. Breaks up rocks on the farm (actual rocks in your inventory and occsisonal geodes).

Harvey - discounts at the clinic for the amount of times you're injured in the mines and he is the one who finds you and carries you home so you don't lose any items. Weekly energy tonics. And sometimes he plays jazz (Unlocks new music). Discounts at the bookseller (1.6) because he befriends the hot air balloon operator. And the man gets over his fear of heights and gets his chopper license. Can take you to Ginger Island for free.

Maru - weekly energy tonics since she works in the Clinic (yes, she should keep her job) and battery packs, plus her dad visits the farm cave and you get better drops in there. Robin visits too and says things like "oh, I saw such and such needed upgraded or repaired, so I did it. " Seb visits and might bring a gift. She also creates a working robot that can automate some farm chores at random. Joins the aerobics class at Caroline's.

Sebastian - discounts from Robin for upgrades and her shop, he occasionally goes adventuring with you in the quarry (for rare drops), and brings in a side income from his incredibly popular indie computer game. Brings gifts from his trips to Zuzu City. Hosts weekly jam sessions with Abigail and Sam on the farm. Organizes DnD game night at the community center - friendly to beginner's.

Leah - chops wood for you (actual wood in your inventory), crafts beautiful decor for your farm, and brings you delicious forage from the forest. Brings in a small income from her artistry. And she would also adventure with you in the secret woods (rare drops and better protection). Might buy you a drink or salad at the Saloon on occasion. Would absolutely dance with you at the Stardrop on Friday nights if you asked her.

Alex - Builds a ramp for George and then his grandparents occasionally visit the farm, bearing gifts. He chops wood and breaks up stone on the farm (actual wood/stone in your inventory). And let's start a food truck. Sells at his stand year round (and more than just ice cream), bringing in a small monthly income. He would be an excellent ally also on difficult adventuring levels (preventing you from getting surrounded). If you do go down, he's carrying you home so that you don't lose any items. Runs bingo at community center for the older townies (including his grandparents). Finally fixed the damn leak in Evelyn's roof.

Elliott - let's upgrade his beach cabin for a vacation getaway! He brings you home from the library with all sorts of useful knowledge. The man brings in an income selling his stories and poetry. Establishes a regular reading event at the library. Teaches writing classes at the Community Center. Discounts at Willy's (Willy is Elliott's great uncle in my headcanon). He would occasionally adventure with you on Ginger Island. Oh and I think you'd adopt Leo together and build a little treehouse on the farm.

Sam - income from Joja (or the movie theater), builds a skate park for the kids on town (a new post marriage heart event), and travels occasionally with his band (bringing in a sporadic income). Oh and he writes new songs for the jukebox at the Saloon. (Unlocks new music). Probably plays for the locals on Friday nights. Vincent would come stay with you on the farm, on occasion, so he would have a room. Plus Jodi would bring you dinners on Sundays. Kent would send you regular gifts in the mail. Also unlimited free games at the arcade (Sam's always buying).

Haley - has a photography show (like Leah does with her art) and decorates your farmhouse with occasional prints (new decor), plus an income from selling her services as a photographer. I like to think she works with Seb on the town website and adds her images. Brings gifts from her trips to Zuzu City. Scythes grass on occasion on the farm (actual grass and sometimes mixed seeds in your inventory). Would plant flowers in a farm garden with Evelyn. Emily would visit and bring gifts.

Emily - discounts at the Saloon, a small weekly stipend, and sells her clothes online, plus you get to join the weekly aerobics class at Caroline's with her (and if you have high hearts with Clint, you get discounts at the blacksmith too). Sometimes misc clothing, shoe, hat, and ring upgrades show up in your inventory. Haley would visit and bring gifts.

Penny - special events at the community center (she helps establish family-friendly activities and the community center is more active). She goes back to school for her official license and brings in a small income from teaching. Discounts on bus rides thanks to her mom, or cheaper bus repair if you aren't done yet. Better rewards at the library/museum when you donate items because of her friendship with Gunther. And she creates a playroom at the farm for Jas and Vincent (and your kids, of course). Pam might visit on occasion and bring gifts (and like Shane, Pam would attend the weekly AA meetings).

Okay... confession time... who are you marrying based on the above advantages?

[raurquiz]

#happybirthday #EvanEvagora #actor #model #elnor #startrekpicard #secretcity #fantasyisland #HomeandAway #TheQuarry #startrek56 @TrekMovie @TrekCore @StarTrek @StarTrekOnPPlus