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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 3 months ago

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Save a Cow

Steven Grant x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Summary: Steven finds a badge in a charity shop.

A/N: I, erm... so I wrote this.

Warnings: oral (m! receiving), some dirty talk, swearing, pre-existing relationship with reader, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 833

Steven had chuckled when he’d seen it. The pin badge in the little tray by the cashier's desk, it was one of many. Most were Happy Birthday badges, a couple with cartoon animals on them. But this one was the only that stood out.

��Save a cow, eat a vegan’, with a little cartoon bovine.

The badges were 50p. He’d picked it up and put it on top of his main purchase - a book on prehistoric cultures around the world that he’d been trying to find for ages and despite usually selling for upwards of £50 online, this charity shop had only put £2.50 on it. It didn’t even look like it had been opened.

“That’s £3, all together.”

Steven gave him a tenner and put the rest of the change in the donation pot.

He’d pined it on his shirt before he put the book in his bag, and continued about his day.

In all honesty, he’d practically forgotten about it and the fact that he was wearing it had slipped his mind.

It was only later on that evening, when you pointed it out as he walked in the door and was in the middle of taking off his shoes, that he remembered.

“Oh!” He giggled, giving the edge of it a flick and grinning. “Made me laugh, didn’t it? Only 50p too! I also found-”

“Okay.” You said simply, dropping to your knees.

Steven frowned, so completely bewildered for a second that he didn’t even catch the wicked gleam to your eyes.

“Love? What are you-” he swallowed harshly, practically choking on his words as you ran your right hand up his inner thigh, while you palmed his dick with your left.

You look up at him with a fake innocence. “I’m doing what the badge says? Saving a cow?”

“Ohhh,” he let out a little shuddered breath as you undid his belt and unzipped his trousers, letting them hang low on his hips. His cock twitched, already half hard as his blood rushed downwards and heartbeat increased.

You nuzzle him through his boxers, mouthing at his balls until a shaky groan slips from between his parted lips.

“Love,” he shivers, fighting the maddening urge to buck his hips and push himself closer, to grab your shoulders and force you against him.

You slowly hook your fingers under his waistband and pull them down his thighs. The second the head of his cock is free you lap at the tip eagerly, small firm strokes that has his stomach muscles twitching under the strain.

Heat pools and twists in his belly, burning deep as you lightly suck his head into your warm, wet mouth.

He lets out a groan, breathless and needy as his cock hardens quickly. You stroke his balls with your free hand as you suck him deeper, greedily taking more and more and Steven squirms, unable to hold himself back a second longer.

“Love, fuck,” he pulls on your shoulders, grabbing at the back of your neck as he shallowly thrusts, encouraging you to match his frantic movements. “God, that’s good, that’s really good,” part of his brain isn’t working, can’t even register what he’s saying as nonsense falls out of his mouth.

“You’re gonna have to suck harder, you know?” He shivers, bucking his hips and pushing his thick length to the back of your throat, “if you want to save a cow, gonna have to take it all, take all of me, let me come down your pretty throat,” he hisses as you whine, as you try and struggle to swallow around him.

Your jaw aches, knees sting a little from the hard wooden floor, but Steven’s sounds are driving you insane, making you dizzyingly lightheaded with every cry and groan.

You keep bobbing your head, salvia on your chin, keeping up with and surpassing his manic pace. You want all of him, every single part. And with each push he sinks a fraction deeper, inches closer to finally filling you completely.

“Oh fuck,” he whines loud, his voice rising in pitch as the pressure in his stomach tightens to an impossible peak. “I’m, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna, love, ‘m sorry, please, can I-”

You suck hard, giving his balls a light squeeze and Steven all but screams.

His hips buck twice, his fingers digging into your shoulders as he shoots hot, thick cum down your throat in a fevered rush.

You swallow eagerly, moaning around him and holding his outer thighs to keep him steady as aftershocks roll through him.

He breathes deeply, swallowing air and you slowly take your mouth off him with a gentle pop.

Steven sighs, his eyes glued to your lips as he traces the line of salvia on your chin with his thumb. “So good to me love,” he whispers.

You giggle and shake your head, suddenly feeling a little bashful.

He grins, “but it’s my turn now,” he strokes your chin, “save a cow, eat a pussy?”

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

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#steven grant #moon knight #moon knight mcu #steven grant x reader #x reader #steven grant x you #x you #steven grant x female reader #x female reader #steven grant x f!reader #x f!reader #steven grant x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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heavenlybackside · 5 months ago

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The Goat Canyon Trestle, located in San Diego County, California, is the largest wooden railroad trestle in the world. Built in 1919 as part of the Carrizo Canyon Trail, it is more than 600 feet long and 186 feet high. The bridge was constructed of redwood beams, a testament to the engineering prowess of the time.

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mutant-distraction · 8 months ago

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Goat Canyon Trestle is a wooden trestle in San Diego County, California. At a length of 597–750 feet (182–229 m), it is the world's largest all-wood trestle. Goat Canyon Trestle was built in 1933 as part of the San Diego and Arizona Eastern Railway, after one of the many tunnels through the Carrizo Gorge collapsed. The railway had been called the "impossible railroad" upon its 1919 completion. It ran through Baja California and eastern San Diego County before ending in Imperial Valley. The trestle was made of wood, rather than metal, due to temperature fluctuations in the Carrizo Gorge.[6] By 2008, most rail traffic stopped using the trestle. Wikipedia

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shiny-jr · 1 year ago

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how to steal a heart (I)

[ a dummy's guide on how to steal the heart of a poor pathetic man ]

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Female reader.

- Note: This has been an idea (heavily inspired by Howl's Moving Castle) I had in my docs since fall 2022. I was talking to a mutual about how writing on Tumblr vs Quotev feels very different. If I leave something unfinished on Quotev, I feel incredibly guilty which prevents me from posting new stories. However, on Tumblr, I don't feel as guilty. Not sure why. Anyways, I know most of my followers here don't care for my ocs, and I've been wanting to post this for so long. So instead of posting on Quotev, I'll post it on here just to get rid of the urge to share this story (might delete this later). This is the same story I posted that little screenshot of not too long ago, and that screenshot was basically just the prologue chapter. So yeah. Hope you enjoy?

IN WHICH THERE IS A SEAMSTRESS . . .

Black smoke concealed the window like a thick veil as the walls around her shook. It was a sure sign that the train was inching by. The screech from its whistle and clanking against the railroad tracks, so loud that it must’ve been heard over a mile away, only confirmed her guess. Her hands continued to cut smoothly through the linen fabric, separating enough to fulfill another order placed this morning. As the young woman worked to separate the colors and gather more material, the corner of her eyes caught sight of the smoke concealing her perfect view.

The train’s fading motion and clanging against the tracks was eventually replaced by chatter just outside her workshop. It all became background noise, as she began to utilize the sewing machine. Lines formed over the cloth, blending it and connecting so they formed an article of clothing. Needles, pins, and scissors cut and dug deep through the cloth. Buttons of all shapes and sizes were neatly organized in little boxes, so she could easily take what she needed. Time just seemed to fly as she worked so quietly and efficiently, oblivious to the hours ticking by. Any other noise fell on deaf ears, even as a knock resounded on the firm wooden door that happened to be wide open already.

A pause before the person tried again, knocking a little louder again. “(Y/n)?”

Snapping out of her efficient trance, the tailor snapped to attention and straightened her sitting posture. Gazing at the door and back the window where the sun was much lower than before, it took her a moment to figure out what exactly was going on and what time it was. It was later in the day, and the woman at the door was Dalena… Well, everyone called her Ma Dalena because she was a kind older lady who tended to see the young female tailors as her own children. At least, most of the tailors.

“We closed up five minutes ago. You can go now.” Ma Dalena gave an encouraging smile that displayed the dimples on her skin, showing signs of age evident by the wrinkles. Judging by her long dress and small woven handbag hanging from her wrist, it was probably safe to assume that she had evening plans. “Why not spend the rest of the day with us?”

Us. Correct she was again. As welcoming as the invitation was to join Ma Dalena and the other tailors, she wasn’t willing to join them anymore. Not after the first time when she dared to venture with them. After shifts, the tailors had a tradition of going out into town. Not that it was a bad thing. But they used their time cafe hopping, searching for flirtatious men to satisfy their need for affection. Oftentimes, they would get caught up with the pushy kind. And ever since some troops from the military have returned from their duties, well… encountering a bunch of men who hadn’t felt the touch of a woman in months, was not ideal. At least for her.

Taking her foot off the pedal to pause her work and silence the sewing machine, she pretended to consider the invitation before mustering a polite smile with a shake of her head. “Hm… It sounds nice. But I promised the client I would finish this so they can pick it up tomorrow. So I’ll stay, but have fun. Have another drink in my place, alright?”

Ma Dalena merely nodded in understanding, her polite smile turning somber as she turned on her two-inch heels and began walking to the front entrance. The chatter of the other tailors ready and eager for the rest of the day off, went quiet as she announced, “We’re leaving now. Hurry now if you’re coming!”

The chatter resumed, accompanied by the sound of more heels tapping quickly against the wooden floors in an effort for the straying members to catch up with the group. They complimented each other's outfits they spent days making by hand, discussing various fashion trends, gossiping about clients and others in town.

In a way, she did and she didn’t regret accepting the invitation. It may have been nice to have good company for once, but it never felt right when she was present within their clique. It was as if she were trying to forcefully add a puzzle piece to an already complete puzzle, which is why she stopped forcing it. She wouldn’t want to sit there awkwardly during tea, unsure what to say as they spoke so confidently and loudly. It felt as if she were an imposter, someone trying to disguise themselves to blend in. It was why she worked in a small separate room, away from everyone else. That, and because she was the fastest tailor there. Part of her wondered if Ma Dalena was beginning to dislike her since she turned down invitation after invitation. But how was she to explain what she was feeling, when it would only sound like whining?

Drowning out her thoughts with work to occupy the space in her mind, she pressed her foot against the pedal and began sewing once more. The loud hum of the machine filled her ears as it worked against the red cloth under her fingertips. This was the way it was supposed to be. Mindlessly spending her waking hours working at a craft she didn’t excel at, but was decent enough to earn wages in. All while wondering what could’ve been, and secretly hoping that maybe soon there is something that can be––

“Look! Look out there! It’s Reyes’ temple!”

“Reyes?!”

“Where? I don’t see it!”

“There! Over the hill!”

Now that was something you don’t see everyday. Everyone retreated back to the window, desperate to catch a glimpse, even Ma Dalena. Halting her work once again, (Y/n) too was the tiniest bit curious.

In truth, magicians failed to interest her, not that she had an opportunity to see them much anyways. But all those in Etére knew to be cautious of two particular magic wielders: La Bruja de Bruez, the Witch of Bruez, and Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, Reyes the Thief of Hearts. The pair were like the local boogeymen, tales of their horrendous deeds spreading and becoming bedtime stories for children in order to scare them into good behavior.

Ever since her youth, she heard stories of La Bruja de Bruez. It was said that she was a wicked woman who’s lived for over a hundred years. A slight against her is taken seriously, and she curses those she comes across. But she was no mere fairytale. The witch has been a thorn in the country’s side for a long time, as she terrorizes the towns she visits. There hasn’t been much action taken against her, because she’s so powerful that hardly anyone stands a chance and she’s so elusive. Besides, the royal family don’t particularly care if the witch curses a random citizen every month or so, as long as they don’t have to risk pawns in their own arsenal of magicians just to take her down.

Only a few years ago, a second magician with fearsome spells and a horrible reputation, appeared. Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, or more commonly known as Reyes, was another brujo many feared, although not as much as his counterpart from Bruez. There were rumors, yes, but they were more lighthearted with little evidence to ever back up the claims. While the Bruja de Bruez spared no one, it was said that Reyes chose to pursue only young beautiful women. If you asked around town, half of the population would consider him a threat, while the other half would giggle and whisper about his rumored good looks. Maybe that’s how he lured them in? With charms. Either way, he was a cause for concern. It was said that at a young age after abandoning his position as apprentice under the royal sorceress, the most powerful known magician, he not only challenged her but won and stripped her of her powers. Of course, no one can neither confirm nor deny it, as the king kept a tight lid on the situation and supposedly those who approach Reyes meet a terrible fate. But his abode was proof enough of his sheer strength. It was like a castle, a temple wandering on mechanical legs, rumored to not only be fueled by magic but also made of it.

Through the mist and low hanging clouds, just over the rolling hills on the horizon she could make out the distinct shape of a temple. A magnificent temple that appears so small from so far away. But she knew that it was a beast, a titan wandering the wilderness where very few dared to venture. It prowled around on its mechanical legs, spewing black smoke as the only trail it left behind. Reyes’ moving temple disappeared behind the clouds, seemingly vanishing from sight. Onlookers within the tailor shop could only awe and wonder aloud what the brujo was like, what was true and what was not, their minds creating horrible fears and outlandish fantasies that would take root as rumors.

Lowering her gaze back to her work, she resumed once more, but the rumors overpowered the hum of her machine until their words reached her. The other tailors proceeded back to the front entrance, marveling about what they just witnessed. Was he hiding from soldiers practicing their flights just outside the town? Did you hear that he literally steals the hearts of women, but only beautiful ones? Someone said that a pretty waitress on the other side of town had her own heart torn out and stolen by Reyes just last week!

The door was shut and she was alone, left with her work and the noise outside. Swiftly she worked, able to repair tears and wears with ease and create other things. Able to get lost in the work for much longer, until she felt the ground shake and the screech of another whistle. The afternoon train. It’s smoke covering her window once again. It was getting late already. Not wishing to waste the rest of the day by continuing work or go to bed with a book she had already read twice, she switched off the machine and organized all the tools back into their places. Brushing off all stray strings from her dress, she then rearranged her completed work thus far and prepared to have a different kind of day.

Today, she would try to make it a can be sort of day. Even if it meant just visiting a close friend like Lía at the bakery. Just putting out the effort to go out today was more than she was usually willing. Although wishing it would be something special, a proper can be day without even trying, was like wishing to be acknowledged by a person you admire but never once talked to, it was much like winging it on a test without studying and praying you would get a perfect score even though knowing that it’s almost near impossible. But it isn’t statistically completely impossible, so you cling to that thin shred of hope that’s as taut as a piece of string.

The whirring of small planes buzzed overhead, the flying machines brandishing their flags like the proud and numerous soldiers. On nearly every home and business, there was the flag hanging over the door, a symbol of patriotism and support of the war effort. (Y/n) quickly crossed the streets and reached the trolley station that would take her further into town. Right now there was not a soldier in sight, but that was sure to change the closer to the center of town she got. She only prayed that there wouldn’t be any trouble with them.

The trolleys were full, people all going towards the center of town, in the same direction the planes overhead flew towards. If she had to guess, most of the people within the trolley were likely friends or family of returning soldiers. All giddy from the victory high of a major battle just won.

While watching the scenery go by, she wondered how Lía was fairing.

It was because of Lía and her family that she now worked in a tailor shop. (Y/n)’s parents had met an unfortunate end while traveling outside the kingdom. They were doctors dedicated to a good cause, determined to stay in dangerous war torn lands to heal and treat the poorest of folks. While she was busy with school and often alone but checked on by family friends, her parents were saving people an ocean away in a faraway land where Milavi’s war had spread. They had been too close to Milavi claimed territory, likely mistaken for doctors healing rebels, and were thus punished for their good deeds. With no one left to turn to, her family’s closest friend, Señor Obregón, adopted (Y/n) and treated her as one of his own.

Señor Obregón was a quiet but respectable man that spent his time either working or with his family. He was the one that taught her how to sew, knit, and tailor, after she became curious of his skills. There were two other girls, Lía and Cova, a few years younger than (Y/n), which is why she became the oldest sibling. Lía was the beauty admired all throughout their childhood and still beloved to this day. She most resembled her mother, but she wasn’t half as vain. Cova was the youngest and somehow the smartest, as she was able to quickly grasp the concepts from lessons even in (Y/n)’s class, despite being a few grade levels apart. She mostly resembled her father and his own wits. Then there was her, (Y/n), who had… whatever was left. Of course she never held any resentment toward her sisters, since they were always well behaved but perhaps a bit annoying with their squabbles. Lastly, was Señora Obregón, Rosita, who she just called Tia Rosa for short, was never rude or dismissive to her. Tia Rosa was actually very outgoing and talkative, but she was the sort of woman that wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something from last season. She desired the finer things in life and settled for no less, which is probably why Señor Obregón ended up in an early grave due to working himself to death just to try and afford the luxuries his wife craved.

Immediately after the funeral, while they were still dressed head-to-toe in black and their eyes were puffy from crying, Rosita sat all three of her daughters for a conversation about the future. It would be impossible for her to keep them all in school, especially considering she hadn’t worked a day in her life. However, she wasn’t cruel enough to just toss her young girls out into the streets with nowhere to go. So, she devised a plan for each girl. Cova would be able to best utilize her smarts in a challenging field full of promise, which is why she was sent to a good witch in the next town over, to become an apprentice in magic. Lía was already very popular around town, she would thrive in a social environment like the bakery on main street where to this day men constantly asked for her hand. As for her, (Y/n), she would stay here in Obregón’s tailor shop, where Tia Rosa deemed was best fit. Afterall, she did know how to carry on the business, she had even helped their reputation grow substantially as more people came in every day and profits increased. Although, she hardly had the time to spend the earnings on herself, that’s what Tia Rosa was there for. Rather, never there for. She’d collect earnings from the business (Y/n) ran and would disappear for weeks or months at a time to another town or city. But that's besides the point…

By now, the trolley she was on was near the center of town that happened to be within blocks away, the streets became crowded with people walking on foot. On roads below bridges, there were lines of military tanks rolling by. Not much further in, the sidewalks were jam packed with hundreds, upon thousands, of people. Confetti rained down, banners and flags were strung from every corner and door. Every window was occupied as citizens cheered and waved at the parade of temporary victors, a show of military strength. Soldiers in their crisp uniforms marched in unified lines, cavalry on horseback carried large flags.

As the density of the crowds increased, and the volume of cheers and the parade along with it, she felt her heart beat louder. This was too much, it was too loud, she couldn’t even think…! But she had come this far, to go back home now when she was so close would be a little pathetic. Avoiding the commotion like a plague, she decided it best to take the maze of alleyways to calm her nerves. There were hardly any people on those backstreets, just the occasional stationed soldier. Focusing her gaze on the war propaganda posters on the brick and clay walls underneath window boxes filled with colorful flowers, she pretended to carefully study them as she increased her pace from a calm stroll to a quick speed walk, examining the items as if they were the most fascinating objects she ever saw. Really, she’d rather not make awkward eye contact with the soldiers on guard that watched her like a hawk, which is why she hurried along until they were out of sight.

Now that she was alone, with the crowds and their entertainment separated from her by walls of homes and businesses, she felt relief as the once loud sounds melted into background noise. For now she could concentrate on the address scribbled out on the folded piece of paper in her hands, and her anxiety could be replaced with confusion as she attempted to navigate these small hidden paths. This was only the second time she was on this path, since (Y/n) barely had time to ever go out due to work and her own incompetence. The first was on a holiday some weeks ago when the shop closed early, which granted her a few hours to venture on the main roads to the bakery where her friend worked. This was the second time, and she’s never taken the back roads, which was why she couldn’t tell left from right here.

Just in time, she looked up from her note to stop her feet from moving, as she came face-to-face with an obstacle. It wasn’t another dead end, this obstacle wore clothing and golden pins, and had a head that could easily look down from his height and see the top of her hat. Immediately she stiffened up and took a step back, hesitantly forcing her eyes to look up at the smiling soldier that casually leaned against the wall.

The young man only appeared amused as she jumped a step back in surprise. (Y/n) noticed that delighted sparkle in his eyes, as if her skittish self and startled reaction was his entertainment for the afternoon. Before she could open her mouth to mutter an apology and force her head down to continue ahead, the man leaned just a few inches closer to get a better look at her face hidden by the rim of her colorfully embroidered sun hat. “Huh, just like a mouse. Are you lost?”

A mouse… A skittish field mouse. Would that then make him a rat or a predator? Holding her tongue so not as to speak her mind, she merely shook her head. Offending a soldier would not be good. Not that she had the confidence to say the quick comeback that came to mind anyways. “No… I’m not lost.” That was a lie.

The young soldier persisted, refusing to move off the path as he continued to block her way. “You look lost. Say, what do you say to an invitation to tea? Afterwards, we can go over directions and escort you to where you’re heading.” Even his partner in patrol, an older gentleman, also a soldier but likely more experienced by at least a few years, moved from his post and approached in curiosity.

As the second man stepped closer, she could distinctly hear his polished shoes tapping in a steady rhythm as he stood beside his friend. Her own heart rate easily outpaced his steps, and it wasn’t increasing due to excitement, it was due to growing unease. Yes, she knew rationally that these soldiers likely meant no harm and merely wanted to flirt, but her mind could only conjure up the worst possible scenarios as she reminded herself that they outnumbered her, they were stronger, and they had their long firearms strapped to their backs. Keeping her head down, she replied, “Thank you, but no. I’m supposed to be meeting up with someone.”

Just like the first did, the second soldier bent down a bit to peer at her features. Just like his accomplice, he wore an amused smile as he shook his head and remarked. “A mouse? That’s not very nice. Don’t worry, you’re much better than a simple little mouse.”

Rolling his eyes, the younger soldier only continued, “If you’re old enough to drink, we can go to a bar if that’s more your style? Do you live around here?”

This was getting ridiculous. Did they never learn to accept rejection? No means no, even children could comprehend that. But for now, she was at their mercy, no one would come to help her here. It would be up to them to decide she was no use for any fun and let her go, or continue to persist for their selfish desires. “No. Please let me pass.”

Barely phased by her firm reply, the younger of the two turned to his partner and scoffed, “See? I told you the girls don’t like the beard you’re growing out. It scares them.”

It’s as if her plea went through one ear and out the other, not swaying them in even the slightest bit. The older gentleman merely rubbed the stubble on his chin, “It makes me look better. Besides, I’m sure she doesn’t mind. She might even prefer a man with facial hair.” Actually, the word gentleman did not describe him well.

In that moment she was wondering, would she truly risk it all just to snap back in reply? It must’ve felt so satisfying, but was it necessary? Later, would she come to regret her decision or revel in it? Would she seriously use this sprouting frustration, minimal not only compared to her current fears but also in the grand scheme of things, to temporarily push past her anxiety and say something…? Probably not. As annoying as these men were, like the constant buzz of a pestersome fly, they hadn’t caused any harm except to waste a bit of her precious free time.

“Ah, there you are, mi corazón. I was worried about you.” A smooth and silky voice interrupted.

#yandere #yandere guy #yandere story #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere writing #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere original character #how to steal a heart

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aphony-cree · 4 months ago

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yes I'm still bitter that we never got a scene of Buffy and Spike fighting back to back with her staking vamps with a wooden stake and him killing other kinds of demons with an iron railroad spike to the heart

#btvs #buffy #spike

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ricar3d · 2 years ago

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https://www.printables.com/model/324441-e3d-buggy-drezina-pro-drevenou-vlackodrahu-e3d-bug

#Wooden railway #wooden railroad #dřevěná vláčkodráha #wooden train

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froody · 1 year ago

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It burns me up that they perpetually build roads, lakes, housing developments etc. over historical Black cemeteries in the American south. It really does. The thin excuse of “urban development and progress” doesn’t change the fact that is 9/10 times you hear about a cemetery being relocated or otherwise desecrated, it was a cemetery for POC. It is an act of willful, disgusting racism and targeted disrespect towards their lives and their loved ones and descendants.

In Roanoke, I-581 is built over Big Lick Cemetery, a historical Black cemetery dating back to the 1890s containing the graves of more than 700 Black men, women and children, most of whom moved to Roanoke during The Great Migration when it was a developing railroad town. These are the graves of the people who built the city. These are the graves of people who came to make a better life for themselves and their children. The graves of the formerly enslaved, their children, their children’s children. The cemetery contains a disproportionate amount of children, even for a cemetery dating from a time when childhood mortality was high. Stillborn babies, children who died of marasmus (malnutrition) or diseases like tuberculosis and typhoid due to inhumane and cramped living conditions.

There is a road built on top of them, babies, boys, girls, men and women and no acknowledgment of their lives. Remaining undisturbed graves are visible from the road, it’s surrounded by a chain link fence and marked from the road only by a wooden sign bolted to the fence. Driving by you could not fathom the size of the cemetery or its significance or the stories of the people interred there. It’s notoriously badly kept, grown up, covered in litter, graves that are less than a century old already obscured by plant growth.

Please be mindful of the Black and Indigenous cemeteries in your area, protect historical cemeteries, protest their destruction, volunteer with cleanup and survey efforts and always be conscious that plans to develop over them are not innocuous, not an unfortunate but necessary sacrifice so your town can have a new Sheetz and a 4 lane highway. It is an act of racism.

The next time you drive through Roanoke, think of them.

#racism /#child death /#historical cemeteries #stillbirth /

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changingplumbob · 3 months ago

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Consider this your intro to Silver. It recaps events written by @cawthorntales from Grayson's point of view here, as well as details given in Silver's visit to Grayson. Once again all the lore of this world comes from his imagination, I'm just riffing off of it.

Willow Creek was an odd place. While Windenburg, Britechester and Henford-on-Bagley focused their architecture on stone, most of Willow Creek was wooden. It was as if the settlers had decided to show off just how many trees they could cut down. The first time Silver had visited here it looked rather different. The trees had stretched down to the river and the houses were few and far between. Foundry Cove had been a clean sweep from the canal to the railroad, now there were houses.

Silver gazed in to the fire and tried to calm down. Seeing Grayson had been the right thing, he was certain. Even if it was hard for him it was best for Grayson. He loved his brother, he had been his favourite person before everything happened. It was right to have put him first.

Silver remembered one night in Moonwood when there had been a fierce storm. Their father had always told them they needed to be strong, infallible, but the thunder sounded like hunters and he was terrified. His whimpering woke up his older brother who came and hopped in his bed. Silver tried to protest, dad would get so mad, but Grayson promised him he wouldn't fall asleep. Grayson watched over him so he could rest, and swore he'd be back in his own bed before dad could catch them. He was true to his word.

Grayson had always had his back, but when the time came Silver didn't have his. The hunters had gotten bolder, and more violent, wiping out packs and leaving a trail of bodies far bigger than any the werewolves were responsible for. They had caught his dad and four other pack members, forcing his older brother into the role of alpha at sixteen.

Their dad had always pushed the importance of maintaining the pack. To Grayson that meant mounting an attack on the hunters compound. Silver begged to go with him but Grayson insisted he go with their mother and most of the pack into hiding. When he hugged Grayson goodbye and joined the group howl sending off their alpha and their twenty fiercest members, he felt sure he'd see him in less than a day. He was wrong.

Silver had waited with the lookouts at the edge of the emergency hiding zone, waiting. The lookouts slept in shifts but Silver was determined to stay awake, for his brother and his father, he could be a stubborn fourteen year old. When they appeared on the horizon it was clear the group was smaller. Much, much smaller. Neither his brother or father were in it. When they got close enough to talk Silver asked Francine if they had survived the hunters.

Francine: They're alive but... your dad is talking to Grayson. He'll be back soon

Relieved and exhausted Silver went back to his mom and fell asleep. He had thought Francine meant Grayson would be back soon. She didn't.

He remembered waking up to yelling, his mom and dad were fierce when they got going, dealing verbal blows to each other.

Mom: How could you? He will die out there on his own. He's just a boy, he can't survive the hunters

Dad: He was sentimental and selfish. He should have left me but instead his recklessness cost us sixteen pack members, an alpha cannot put self interest before the pack. He's no son of mine

Mom: Tell me you didn't say that. Francine said he was hurt, he needs to be with us

Dad: I'm the alpha and what I say is law. He is not to set foot here again

Mom: I'll find him, I will

Dad: You bring him back and I swear I will rip his heart out myself

That's when Silver's training started. Grayson had always been meant to be the alpha and had received the bulk of their dad's attention. Silver was happy to simply tag along and mimic the training Grayson was getting, a smaller shadow. But with Grayson gone their dad honed in on him like a missile. Early mornings, late nights, relentless exercise and lectures on how his brother had failed them. His dad passed on his skills sure, but he also passed on his rage.

Silver's heart had truly broken when his mom had been killed. On a search for Grayson she had been captured by hunters, the wife of an alpha was a trophy prize. The nature of the pack changed then. What had once been caring and supportive became strained and distrustful, his dad telling anyone in hearing how Grayson was to blame.

Eventually his dad got careless and the hunters got him to. It should have been up to Silver to keep the pack intact, strong, but he'd felt there was nothing left to save. It fell apart, and he carried on alone. The more he thought about it over the years the more he began to think that his dad had been wrong, Grayson hadn't been to blame. If Silver had been the older one he would have done the same thing.

So he went through life, moving from place to place, feeling the weight of guilt grow heavy. Guilt for believing his brother, his best friend, could have ever acted against the interest of the pack. Guilt that he hadn't been with his mom when she was captured, he would have been a better prize for the hunters and she would be alive. Then, more than a century later, he was sat in a bar when he saw his brother on TV. He was alive! And more than that he was looking for love.

At first Silver couldn't stop himself crying with joy, the barkeep threw him out assuming he'd had too much. He had set out for Henford, determined to make things right. The closer he got, the more his guilt whispered in his ears. Sure that Grayson wouldn't forgive him he camped out near the house, just far enough to not be detected, and caught up on the show in one of the more run down pubs. He thought Glenn was rather cute and hoped he would get far, even if a little voice inside him dreaded Glenn winning, he liked seeing him. Clive though, he was always putting his brother first, Silver was grateful for that. Grayson was different from what he remembered, and Silver had to stop himself howling in anguish when his scar was revealed. Mom had been right, he was injured. When Grayson chose Clive Silver knew it was time to stop hiding, he had to go face his brother.

It went better than he expected. Grayson forgave him! But he had to tell him what happened to the pack and their parents. That's the thing about grief, you think you've got it handled then you have to tell someone a soul is gone and all the feelings rise to the surface again. He had to get out of there. He loved Grayson, but his brother was rebuilding his life, growing his own family and Silver couldn't bear to destroy it with his his own issues. So he'd done what he'd made a habit of doing, he ran away. The woods in Willow Creek may be smaller but he had some good memories here, hopefully the air would help him stabilise. Normally he camped out in the park but when he passed it this time he felt a strange aversion, like it would be wrong or dangerous to go there. He was sure it was just in his mind, soon he would go there and push through the discomfort. The view of the river there had always soothed his soul.

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#sims 4 #the sims #simblr #my sims #ts4 #active simblr #GWG #SilverClawcrestByCawthornTales

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ad-caelestia · 3 months ago

Text

Protection & Warding ⚔️ [long post]

A guide on protecting yourself and your home.

Personal Protection

Wear an amulet on your person - can be made from man-made or natural materials so long as its intent is to protect

Keep a protective crystal in your pocket

Craft a small protective spell jar and keep on your person

Anoint yourself with a protective oil

Place an energetic shield around yourself

Place a glamour on yourself to go unnoticed in the presence of harmful or negative energies

Carry a piece of iron on your person

Bathe with a wash made from protective herbs

Sleep with a sachet of herbs under your pillow or hanging above your bed to prevent nightmares

Prayers and offerings to your patron deity

Hang a protective amulet from the rearview mirror in your vehicle for safe travels

Home & Hearth Protection

Hang rose stems with thorns intact above the entrance of your home

Hang an upside down horseshoe above the entrance of your home (some lore states you should hang the horseshoe right-side-up)

Hang wind chimes or bells outside of your home

Create a “Witch Bottle” and bury in your front yard, or in a potted plant on your porch

Create a “Witch’s Ladder” or “Witch Ball” and hang it either inside or outside of your home

Hang imagery of protective symbols outside or around your home

Burn protective incense in your home

Create a room spray made from protective oils and spray around your home

Create a protective wash and use it to clean your windows, door frames, and tile/wooden floors

Use the wash mentioned above to “paint” symbols of protection on the outside of your front door, on your porch, etc.

Place a protective crystal at each corner inside your home

Place a small glass of salt at each corner inside your home

Hammer 3 iron nails into your front door

Create a protective powder and sprinkle around the perimeter of your home - alternately, sprinkle outside of your front and back door

Create a sachet filled with protective herbs and crystals - keep inside or outside of your home, in your vehicle, etc.

Hang mirrors inside of your home

Place a crystal grid at the center of your home using protective crystals

Call upon your patron deity to protect your home and those who reside in it

Protective Symbols & Items

Pentacle

Triquetra

Witch’s Knot

Algiz (Elhaz) rune

Vegvisir

Helm of Awe

Mjolnir

Glyph of the Moon, Mars, or Saturn

Eye of Horus

Ankh

Crossed Swords

Iron nails

Railroad spikes

Thorns

War Water

Flying Devil Oil

Third & Fifth Pentacle of Saturn; Third & Sixth Pentacle of Jupiter; Sixth Pentacle of Mars; Second, Third, & Fifth Pentacle of the Moon

Crystals

Agate

Amethyst - protection against psychic attacks and while traveling

Angel Aura Quartz - spiritual protection

Apophyllite

Aqua Aura Quartz - protection against psychic attacks

Aquamarine - protection while traveling via water

Astrophyllite

Aventurine

Beryl - protection while traveling

Blue Goldstone

Bowenite

Bronzite

Bustamite

Catlinite - spiritual protection

Carnelian - protection from negative emotions

Celestite - emotional protection

Chalcopyrite

Chrysoberyl

Citrine - protection from nightmares

Clear Quartz

Diamond

Dravite

Eudialyte

Fire Agate

Fluorite - protection against psychic attacks

Galaxite

Garnet

Indicolite

Infinite Stone

Jade

Jasper

Jet

Lapis Lazuli

Lepidolite

Malachite - protection during pregnancy and childbirth

Moonstone - protection during pregnancy, childbirth, and while traveling via water

Mother of Pearl - protection for children

Nuumite

Obsidian

Onyx

Peridot

Pyrite

Rose Quartz - protection during pregnancy and childbirth

Ruby - protection of the home and hearth

Salt

Schorl

Shungite

Smithsonite

Smoky Quartz

Snowflake Obsidian

Sugilite

Tanzanite

Tiger’s Eye

Turquoise

Vauxite - protection from nightmares

Botanicals

Acacia, Aconite, Acorn (protection from lightning), African Violet, Ague, Alder (protection for the deceased), Alfalfa (protection from hunger and poverty), Alkanet (protection from snakebites and the fear of snakes), Aloe (protection from household accidents), Amaranth (protection from bullets), Amber, Angelica, Anise Seeds, Ash (protection from drowning and while traveling), Aspen (protection against thieves), Bamboo, Barley, Basil, Bay Laurel (protection from lightning), Bay Leaf (protection for your home and family, protection against baneful magic), Belladonna, Bergamot (protection from illness), Bilberry Bark, Birch (protection from lightning and infertility), Black Cohosh (protection from accidents and sudden death), Black Haw, Black Pepper, Blackberry, Bladderwrack (protection while traveling), Blessed Thistle, Bloodroot, Blue Violet, Blueberry, Boneset, Brimstone, Buckeye (protection against arthritis), Buckwheat, Cactus, Calamus, Calendula, Carnation, Caraway, Cascara Sagrada (protection against baneful magic), Catnip (protection while sleeping), Cedar (protection from lightning), Celandine, Chia, Chives, Chrysanthemum, Cilantro (protection for gardeners), Cinnamon, Cinquefoil (protection for loved ones on a journey), Clove (protection for babies), Clover, Coconut, Comfrey (protection while traveling), Coriander, Corn, Cotton, Cramp Bark, Cranberry, Cumin, Curry, Cypress, Daisy (protection for babies), Dandelion Root (protection while sleeping), Datura, Devil’s Bit, Devil’s Claw, Dill, Dogwood, Dragon’s Blood, Ebony, Elder (protection for the deceased), Elm (protection from lightning), Eucalyptus, False Unicorn Root (protection during pregnancy and childbirth), Fennel, Fern, Feverfew (protection against accidents and cold/flu), Figwort (protection for your home), Flaxseed (protection for your home, protection against baneful magic), Fleabane, Foxglove (protection for your home and garden), Frankincense, Gardenia, Garlic, Geranium, Ginger, Ginseng, Gorse (protection against baneful magic), Hawthorn (protection from lightning), Heather (protection against violent crimes), Heliotrope, Henna (protection from illness), Hickory, High John the Conqueror, Holly, Horseradish, Hyssop (protection for property against burglars and trespassers), Irish Moss (protection while traveling), Ivy, Juniper, Kava Kava, Lady Slipper (protection against baneful magic), Larch (protection against theft), Larkspur, Laurel, Lavender, Leek, Lemon, Lemon Verbena (protection of your home, protection from lightning and storms), Lettuce, Lime, Lotus, Lucky Hand Root (protection while traveling), Mandrake, Marigold (protection while sleeping), Marjoram, Marshmallow Root, Mimosa, Mint, Mistletoe (protection from lightning and fire), Mullein (protection from nightmares and baneful magic), Nutmeg, Oak Moss, Olive Leaf, Onion, Papyrus, Parsley (protection for your home), Peat Moss, Peony, Periwinkle (protection against snakes and poison), Pimpernel, Pine, Pineapple, Plantain (protection from snake bites and jealousy), Quince, Radish, Raspberry Leaf, Red Clover (protection for pets), Rhubarb, Rice, Rowan, Rue, Sage, Sandalwood, Saw Palmetto, Sea Salt, Sheep Sorrel (protection from heart disease), Slippery Elm, Snapdragon, Solomon’s Seal, Spanish Moss, Spearmint, St. John’s Wort (protection from baneful magic, lightning, and fire), Straw Flower, Sunflower, Tangerine, Thistle, Toadflax, Tonka Bean (protection from disease), True Unicorn Root (protection from baneful magic), Valerian, Venus Fly Trap, Violet, Willow, Witch Hazel, Wood Aloe, Wood Betony, Woodruff, Wormwood (protection against dangerous roads while traveling), Yerba Santa, Yew, Yucca (protection of your home)

Metals

Chromium

Lead

Iron

Nickel

Pewter

Steel

Titanium

Zinc

Lunar Phases

Waxing - to attract protective energy and positivity

Full - generalized protection

Waning - to banish negativity, thus protecting the caster

Planets

Moon

Mars

Saturn

Days of the Week

Monday

Tuesday

Saturday

#witchcraft #witchblr #protection witchcraft #warding #witch #ad-caelestia

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