#fowler lake

[don-lichterman]

Oconomowoc council to consider Rockwell project, Olympia Fields | Oconomowoc Business News

Oconomowoc council to consider Rockwell project, Olympia Fields | Oconomowoc Business News

OCONOMOWOC — The Common Council is set to decide whether to approve a redevelopment plan for the downtown Rockwell project at its 7:30 p.m. meeting on Tuesday at City Hall, 174 E. Wisconsin Ave. According to city documents, the Rockwell project at 121-131 N. Main Street — if approved — would include a mixed-use structure with commercial property on the lower level and condominiums on upper…

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#architectural committee #bob duffy #business #city planner and zoning administrator #common council #community development authority #Council #d. henry rockwell #fields #fowler lake #jason gallo #john s. rockwell #News #oconomowoc #oconomowoc council #olympia #olympia fields #Project #rockwell #Wisconsin

[nobeerreviews]

Once when I was four or five I asked my grandmother to tell me a secret, some secret thing only grown-ups knew. She thought a moment, then leaned down close to me and whispered. "There are no grown-ups," she said.

-- Karen Jay Fowler

(Cluj, Romania)

#grown ups #secrets #fun #karen jay fowler #travel photography #cluj #romania #quote #cluj napoca #lake #summer #kids

[wildbeautifuldamned]

#sasha #alex #tak #scarf #coat #boots #fashion #kyoto #japanese #japan #lake biwa #dec 2023 #2023 #timney fowler

[prettyfamous]

Mary Fowler | Marie Claire Australia | Candice Lake | December 2023

#mary fowler #candice lake

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Sadly, the lady who was building her dream hobbit house right on Lake Michigan in Rapid City, Michigan, died suddenly and the house needs a buyer who will finish it. She spared no expense using the finest materials and the home is for sale for $5M. 3bds, 3.5ba. Take a look.

This is how it's supposed to look finished- stone facade, round door, elliptical windows and copper edging to make the roof stand out.

Look at the shapes on the back, facing the lake.

The rolls of copper are already here for the roof and waiting to be installed.

Look at the swoops in the roof.

Hope a new owner comes along and finishes it.

Look at how beautifully the interior architectural features curve.

Not liking the rail, maybe it's just temporary.

Closeup of the rounded front entrance.

I bet this home will be worth a lot when it's done. It's going to be unique and right on the lake.

Nice big patio right on the beach. The property measures .75 acre.

#hobbit house #hobbit mansion #homes that need finishing #houses #house tours #home tour

[inkyvendingmachine]

T'was The Night Before Crisis... Season 4, Episode 1

💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀 Call of Cthulhu Season Four Masterpost (Coming Soon)

Warning: This campaign is an edited version of  a Call of Cthulhu scenario from the Tales of the Crescent City book. While a lot has been changed, there IS spoilers for it throughout these posts.

WE'RE BACK. After over a whole heckin year of 10000 RP logs, we have returned with our final season of Cthulhu! It's been not just a year out of game, but a little over a year worth of in game time has passed too, and they boys are indulging in a chill, at home seasonal celebration... for now! Surely nothing weird will happen, nothing ever does around holidays for these boys obviously.

:)

Happy Holidays!

Art Credit: @inkdemonapologist : sketching + inking @inkyvendingmachine : concept + colouring

A week. Two weeks. A month. A season. A year.

A whole year and a couple of months go by without any crazy outside force trying to rid the boys of… anything really. The time isn't exactly calm or empty… but compared to recent events, for a while, things were… kinda normal?

Well, except for when Joey got Peter to help him meet with Y secretly to prevent the gang from continuing to mess with JDS, or when Sammy and Henry realized mid tennis match that a version of Henry had slashed him right through the center. Or how the Prophet can just pop out now without ink. And how Susie has been brought in on all this, and perhaps brought in on even more than just the supernatural content as her bonds with Sammy and Joey grow tighter. And how Peter is actually moving to New York City now and ends up visiting Jack just as Beans goes missing and now there’s many little Beans kittens. And the summoning spell to ask the spirit that helped them in Haiti what will become of Sammy and Prophet. And the other summoning spell for Prophet to get his instructions from the Masked Messenger. And Sammy still can't tell where he's going half the time after uncovering some of Prophet’s memories. And Joey is still a bit hesitant to leave the studio if not being actively distracted. But other than that! It's been normal!!

And the boys have made it all the way to Christmas. Joey's received some parcels in the mail, from the Fowlers and Nicole. The Fowlers actually sent each of the helpful boys uh… 1000$?? That's a thousand. EACH. IN THE 1930s. For helping out… which I guess if stuck eternally in soul lake hell, wouldn't have that money anyways. But still, that's quite a lot for the time.

Meanwhile, Nicole has had time to move on from her heartbreak, and is ready to start a new chapter in her life, and as thanks, leaves Joey both the keys to her old apartment (the lease being paid up for a few years already) and to her previous car, with a guarantee she's giving these things up for better, not to worry about her. And totally not because maybe all the occult scratches and bullet marks in the wall makes the apartment hard to rent, or the fact that her car is an extremely recognized Mercedes, or that both of these assets were hounded by gangs for a bit after her magical mistakes…

It probably is actually all out of good will and appreciation, and these things will come in useful, especially if they do need to deal with more mafia or what have you. Joey doesn't need them tracking Henry's car home to his family or back to Jack's house.

With those gifts out of the way, the actual holiday is spent in Jack's house, with a big potluck meal. This holiday celebration includes a small group of friends and their families, namely, all the people Jack has befriended and also would be okay with the Lurker partying with em. The event goes well, Sammy gets to play through the night, Henry’s children get to hang out with a real Bendy and also a buncha newly grown-up cats, Henry gets to eat as many cookies as he wants… 

That… slows down when Henry sees a yellow sign in a ribbon. But as soon as he tries to not lose his entire cool and freak out, it disappears… the ribbon was just a ribbon the entire time. Perhaps golden ribbons shouldn't be their normal holiday decor… 

Meanwhile, Peter feels eyes on him and decides to move away from the window maybe, especially because it feels like he suddenly knew exactly which star in the sky holds Carcosa at the same time… surely a fine coincidence to have happened at almost the same time. But nobody else is acting weirdly, sooooo.

The night wraps up, with Susie and Norman heading out first, followed by Henry and his family. Sammy also heads home after being socially exhausted and desperately needing his alone time, and Peter helps Jack clean up some before heading out too. Jack heads to bed, only to find an already asleep Joey with a Spark sprawled on top of him, probably after he “closed his eyes for a moment” a little earlier. 

The next day, there's technically work, but it's a short day because what's actually happening is a charity auction and party. A collection of “originals, signed by the creators” has been donated to help raise money for relief efforts in a few warring European countries, as well as the “entertainment” for the evening (Bendy cartoons, of course), courtesy of JDS, which means of course all the stars who signed the auctioned items were invited to the party as well.

Yes, even Sammy. 

(And also Jack, Henry, Susie, and Joey of course.)

The event is being held at a yacht club, advertised to the wealthies of the city midst the great depression, with live music playing and glittering evening wear, and uh. Denis.

Y'know, Denis?? That rich guy from NOLA who invited us to the masquerade?? That Joey casually name dropped his legal name to in order to keep him from tracing himself and Sammy back to JDS, when they didn't know who or how dangerous their initial information gathering was.

Anyways, a quick little talking him in circles by Joey corrects that past mistake, as well as gets him the information that Denis is actually related to one of the people who put the entire event together. Ha. Good to know.

Of course it's difficult to shake him afterwards, since Joey is one of the few people Denis knows all the way up in New York. At least Joey actually has a fancy car to talk about now.

Meanwhile, in the quietest, emptiest corner he could find, Sammy notices something odd about the song that's currently being played live. It sounds familiar, and while surely there's been some Bendy music played this evening…. This particular song is not that. But it WAS composed by Sammy.

In NOLA.

When he was improvising with some random music on the street while hanging out on the balcony of his and Joey's hotel room. Properly freaked out by having a song from a very scary time literally come back to haunt him, Sammy runs to find someone, (Joey is still busy with Denis), and comes across Jack first. But before he can fully explain, the entire party is interrupted.

Chatter turns into hushed confusion as some pale man up near the front starts speaking in tongues. It's hard to tell if he's trying to perform some ritual or just incoherently rambling, but it doesn't matter! Because very quickly there’s a gunshot!!

And the Prophet? He's awake. He knows what that gunshot was. He's been waiting for this.

It has begun.

Of course the entire party breaks out in panic once the gun goes off. Joey doesn't know what sort of Eldritch nonsense was happening up front, but upon scanning the crowd and noticing Jack and Sammy together, beelines for the snack table to grab Henry and search for Susie.

As everyone is being rushed out, some of the boys manage to notice that not all of the panic is simply from the mad ramblings and sudden bullet, but also we've got some people in the crowd bleeding from their eyes. How festive!

Upon getting outside, the Yacht club is of course already being surrounded by security and the police, as the sudden gun shots quickly alerted locals to the nonsense going on. Nobody is allowed to bolt until an investigation is conducted and people are questioned, but of course Joey managed to sweet talk his way over to a telephone to make a very important quick phone call.

To one Peter Sunstram! 

Turns out, between all their arguments, there are a few things they can agree on, which includes quietly spying on suspicious parties even though they should probably not be doing that if they actually wanna be safe but surely everyone will understand when they find out IT'S FINE.

Anyways Peter’s been keeping an eye on Y, and earlier in the day Y seemed to be performing some ritual before having some kind of … breakthrough? Revelation? Peter had told Joey of it, and in good faith Joey agreed to keep an eye out for WEIRDNESS, hoping that Y was upholding his promise to not be interfering with JDS anymore. But now this episode seems to have specifically happened, right at their exact event for the evening, so Joey does his best to pass along as much info as he can in that moment to Peter. As well as set up a backup plan in case anything else happens to them before they can escape the Yacht Club.

After some interviews with the police though, they’re allowed to go free. Listening to other partygoers' recollections they’re able to pick up a few more names here and there – the one who fired the gun up front by the bandstand is said to be another local gangster by the name of Johnny Nero, and the band playing on that bandstand one Red Leverett and the Jumps – but no evidence that really points the crew in any sort of serious lead. (including more commentary by Denis wHY ARE YOU STILL HERE UR NOT PART OF THE GROUP)

So having managed to collect everyone together, including Prophet returning Sammy to the front for the interview thank the lord (not that one)(not that one either)(maybe that one) the JDS crew head over to their very safe and secure hide away to talk about what just happened: that’s right, they’re going to Peter’s apartment.

And staying there through midnight! Listen, the last time weird shit started happening like this, everything popped off at midnight and there were panics all around. It’d be nice to know where people were this evening. And while they’re all sitting around waiting for that to pass, Henry and Peter can even talk about the really weird things that happened last night! Yknow, where Henry saw the yellow sign for a moment and Peter felt something watching him from space? Those very normal Christmas activities?

The group also gets informed about how Peter maybe has been keeping an eye on the Y that still hangs out in the city, and how Y was excited over some weird ritual. While he goes over that and also Joey and Peter guiltily kinda admit to their secret spying tendencies, Henry gets info from Linda when he calls to explain why he’s not home yet and how he won’t be home for a little while still. She’s remembered some research that crosses over with the prophecies they had gotten a month or so after the last big event like this. And Jack and Sammy bring up how they had been theorizing over who’s and what’s in the prophecies… for instance, that which the Phantom seeks, who bears already the scars of following the Mender’s lead….

Is it Peter? He followed Jack into the weird ghosty world. Is it Joey? He’s followed the Mender in other ways, and also literally bears scars caused from Jack’s healing. Or is it somehow Y?? Who seems… involved in this somehow, despite promising he wouldn’t be fucking around with stuff that might step on JDS’s toes again.

With no real conclusions, but midnight having come and past, people start to head home. Joey has someone drop him off at the studio, as after weirdness happened with any sort of occult stuff he’s interested in checking in on Bendy and the Stone. Since, those tend to be targets for this kinda creepy thing. Bendy is perfectly fine though, and hardly even noticed anything going on… So Joey picks up some of his notes and… finds himself unable to leave the studio. For some reason it just seems like the wrong idea… so he spends all night up researching, unsettled by how many non-leads he has into what will possibly happen next. It’s starting to feel like Haiti again, knowing that something bad is coming but really having no idea where to fortify with this information.

But he does have something new… 

He has plenty of things new now, including his dream spell. 

Peter’s not the only one who can spy, and while Joey is sure he’d hit some kind of barrier trying to peek in on Y’s dreams… just knowing whether the man was still alive, or possessed by some eldritch nonsense seemed like a good place to start. Maybe his excitement at the ritual earlier was coincidental…

The thing is, defying all reason, Joey’s able to step into Y’s dream just fine somehow.

This is probably not something he’ll regret doing later, surely.

[Next Episode] (not yet released)

#call of cthulhu: haunted hijinx #joey drew #henry stein #sammy lawrence #jack fain #peter sunstram #bendy the lurker #beans the cat

[biteofcherry]

Sweet and stained

Sweet and stained

soft dark Nick Fowler x female reader

a Hades/Persephone inspired AU set in modern times, with an implied mafia background

summary: You live in the sun and blooms, under your mother's protective wing (or is it cage?). When Nick Fowler strolls into your life, he brings a wave of thrilling fresh with the darkness that follows him.

warnings: soft!dark Nick Fowler; sort of dub-con; kidnapping; manipulation; light corruption kink; mentioned breeding kink; a bit of smutty scenes included;

Author's Note: This is a trope that won the poll for my birthday celebration story. Honestly, the way I imagined this fic at first is completely different from how it turned out. Less sharp than my usual style and more of a gloomy, start-of-the-autumn poetics. Still, I hope you'll enjoy!

You never knew black could shimmer so brilliantly, even though you saw its various shades in petals of unique flowers. The night sky’s ink was dotted with sparkling dust, too, after all. Yet it was only now that you noticed the luminosity of dark, as your head tilted back on the softest pillows and your gaze roamed the supple garlands of the black canopy.

Dark interior, which scared you the first time you took a step inside, now engulfed you in heady warmth. Like a sip of spicy hot chocolate, so rich and thick it coats your tongue and fills your belly with a bitter bite to its general sweetness.

There’s more spice than sweetness to your captor, but you began realizing he remained the only one to treat you with softness. As if he truly cared.

Perhaps he did? 

Maybe the charm and patience he showed you at the beginning were as true as the ruthless possessiveness with which he bound you to him. 

You had years to find that out. Decades at his side, to unravel the scary mystery that was Nick Fowler.

Your husband.

His face above you, as he sat beside your sweaty, spent body, shone a serene glow. His eyes a shade of clear lake, with monsters luring in the depths. 

You still feared him, but Nick gave you enough proof that he wouldn’t hurt you. 

Even if his plan for you was weaved out of nefarious intentions. 

He set aside the glass of water which he brought to your lips a moment ago, soothing your throat that dried out from how much you screamed for him. 

It’s for the best that you couldn’t speak at the moment, your breath still ragged; since you didn’t know what you’d say to him after all the debauched things he did to you. Post sex pillow talk was never your forte, but it was even more awkward after willingly spreading your legs for a man who ripped you from your life as one plucked a flower from the ground.  

Silently, you watched Nick once again pick a crystal bowl from the nightstand, a shiny barrow of pomegranate seeds peeking above the rim. 

He devoured some moments before he indulged in your dripping pussy.  

Seeds glistened ruby richness on Nick’s fingers as he brought them to your lips; his own mouth stained with the juice. He left traces of the red sweetness on your thighs and mound, mixing pomegranate flavor with your combined spend. 

Your lips wrapped around his digits as he spilled fruity grains on your tongue. One of your hands rested on your belly, just below your navel. 

Nick has repeatedly filled you with seeds that night, not only those of a pomegranate. 

It made you tremble. His intent was clear; not only shown in relentless, deep thrusts, but dark and dirty words whispered into your ear. 

Your body shouldn’t react so eagerly to his plans, arching and spasming in whorish acceptance as he ordered you to take it; as he fucked you through one climax into another, telling you of his heir swelling in your womb. 

Disgust should have filled you, instead of arousal. Because as much as you believed Nick was going to dote on you, his owning of your body in every sense was driven by revenge. 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

With the wide rim of the sunhat on your head limiting your view and your focus on the pots dancing away from you (the wind that day was wickedly playful, knocking over the smaller pots every time you righted them), you weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings. 

People walked past, some gleefully talking about plants, others arguing on what was or wasn’t needed in their garden. On a sunny day like that, Demeter Gardens had as many customers as a fun fair on weekends. 

The staff was really busy on days like this, doubling their efforts, because it was usually when your mother chose to grace the place with her radiant presence - radiant to the customers, an absolute harpy to her workers. 

There were many traits you admired about your mother. The most inspiring was the fact she was a barely out of teens single mother who managed to raise you and start a business that flourished into a state known brand. 

She had her faults, too. Like the high expectations and harsh tongue when someone didn’t meet her standards.

It went both for her employees and her daughter. 

Working with plants soothed you, so at least your future as the heiress to the empire your mother wanted you to take over didn’t look as grim. Even if some evenings you cried into a pillow, because it wasn’t what you dreamt of at all.

Growing under her wing, you didn’t get much of a chance to explore what exactly you could dream of, what called out to you, but you simply knew that running a gardening business wasn’t it. 

You never dared to tell your mother that. Enough times have you suffered her cruel words, snide remarks regarding anything that strayed even a step away from her grand plans. Demeter had ambition rivaling many moguls and she poured it onto you as well. The only praise you got was when you won any sort of competition, or mentioned business plans. 

Your mother may have only spiteful words to say about your absent father, but she possessed the same self-centered core as him. Rotten and unkind. 

How plants flourished under her hands, you had no idea. 

Though she didn’t spend much time with them anymore, leaving it to people who really liked working with plants. You liked the peace and quiet it offered, which is why you spent almost every day at the gardening center. 

“Excuse me?” A smooth male voice startled you.

Not only with how sudden and close it was, but also because it was so unusual in a place mostly filled with cheery, loudly speaking families or couples. 

You turned your head, pulling the rim of your sunhat up with your dirty fingers, so you could see the person better. 

Your gaze met a pair of blue eyes, with a silvery gray swirl in them, that chilled you like an autumn rain pattering on your skin. A shadow of stubble along a chiseled jaw, which would feel under your fingertips like frosty needles of the first hoarse coating November leaves. Subtle, pink lips curved in a smile, but its charm didn’t fully cover the sharp threat of teeth that could sink in ‘till blood spilled like in spooky nightmares of autumnal season.

This man looked like the stillness of dying nature, engulfed in fog and chilling to the bones. A dark spirit amongst the lush greenery and blooming life that stretched all around. 

And yet he was more beautiful than any man you ever laid eyes on. 

“Yes?” You swallowed nervously, mostly to wet your suddenly dry throat. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sure you can,” he said softly, his voice a brush of cool silk. 

“See, I usually hire garden designers to take care of any greenery around my business buildings, but the one at my actual home? I wanted to work on it myself.”

“Understandable.” You smiled at him. “Having your own garden is a personal thing. Working on it helps you connect with the place that will be your oasis.”

“The problem is, I quickly realized I have zero idea what I’m doing. But I’m a stubborn bastard, who’s still adamant on chasing what he set his eyes on.” He sighed dramatically, making you laugh.

“Anyway-” he shook his head- “I’m Nick. Please, help me out?” 

You gave him your name, taking his hand when he outstretched it. His fingers were calloused, though it’s the cool brush of metal of his rings that sent tiny spikes of sensation through you. 

“What exactly do you need my help with, Nick?” You took off your sunhat and squinted slightly as the sunlight soaked your vision. 

“My tastes are… unique.” You knew he spoke about aesthetic preferences, but couldn’t help hearing the double meaning behind it. Especially with the sensual flick of his tongue over his bottom lip.

“I’m mostly out the whole day,” Nick continued explaining, “coming home only in the evening. Which is when I wish to spend most time in the garden. To relax and enjoy its secret beauty.”

“You want night bloomers.” You guessed, grinning ear to ear.

Flowers blooming in the evening and through the night were one of your favorites. There was something about them that called out to you. Perhaps the fact they were overlooked under the radiant sun, hiding their secret beauty to flourish in shadows, when no one could judge them. 

There was also the aura of mystery about them, pairing so well with your fondness for gloomy and gothic stories. 

“See? I knew I was asking the right person for help.” Nick mirrored your smile; his made you a little weak in the knees. 

“You have to get the Moonflower, of course.” You moved and gestured for Nick to follow you, as you led him to the far end of the center. 

“I have to?” Nick chuckled, matching your step to walk beside you rather than behind you. 

Shoulder to shoulder with him, you suddenly realized he was taller than at first sight. Much warmer than what his dark aura suggested, too. And his scent was a toe-curling reminder of spicy mulled wine sipped by the fireplace.

“Yes!” You nodded, brushing your fingertips along the plants you passed on your way. “Moonflower is my favorite. It’s similar to the morning glory. You won’t see its full beauty now, but I assure you it never disappoints.”

When you finally reached the corner with potted plants - from smallest to those quite grown already - Nick bent over to examine it closely. He gently trailed the heart-shaped leaves, then plucked the yellow card attached to one of the thin stems. 

“Moonflower, or moon vine,” he read aloud, “is a night-blooming morning glory that opens in the evening and stays full until morning.”

Nick straightened and turned to you, gaze slowly dragging up your body. When his eyes met yours, there was a glint of something cold and dangerous in them. As if for a split of a second you saw a flash of instrumental triumph.

“Opens in the evening and stays full until morning,” he repeated the words, his voice dropping an octave and filling your belly with unexpected heat. “I like it already.” 

“Uh, well-” you squeezed the rim of the sunhat in your grasp- “Yes, see, I told you. You’ll like it even more when it blooms in your garden.”

“I know I will.” Nick affirmed solemnly. 

Something about his gaze, or perhaps it was the set of his jaw, quickened your pulse with a warning that his intent was more than just a harmless flirting. There was this tinge of danger about him, fizzing on the tip of your tongue with a spicy aftertaste. 

If you licked his skin, the cold darkness may swallow you, but everything inside you would set aflame. 

Apprehension tingled inside your chest, like wind chimes’ pearly tune that lured with their woeful longing. Reason whispered to take a step back, but feet moved forward on their own, drawn to the inner flame that may as well be straight from hell. 

It was hard to break eye contact with Nick, but you feared if you didn’t look away he’d mesmerize you into selling your soul. And your body. Body which awoke with yearning to have his fingertips trail along your skin the same way he touched the plants.

Somehow you managed to turn away. The sun’s warmth returned to your cheeks, caressing your face with soothing lightness the second you stepped away from Nick’s gloomy aura.

“You should also get night blooming Jasmine. It smells so sweet.” You rambled about plants, clutching onto the topic like it was a lifebuoy keeping you afloat from sinking into fascinating, but scary depths that were Nick’s eyes. 

“And Angel’s Trumpets!” With your presentation, excitement returned. 

You were helping create something personal, something so very unique. However Nick chose to use your advice, you had a blissful sense of creating something yourself. A garden that may as well be yours, since it catered to your aesthetic and needs as well. 

Nick ordered so many of the plants you listed that not only did you run out of stock, but had to set up a delivery from another center. You weren’t sure how big Nick’s garden was, but considering the amount of plants it had to be a king-sized land. 

The thought of roaming it in the late evening, with dusk hiding hues of purple and gold in a shroud of ink black, and moonlit petals opening up for the life of creatures of the night; it made your heart yearn.

You’d love to wander through that garden. 

For someone who ran a gardening empire, your mother kept you both locked in a metal and glass skyscraper, in a two-floor penthouse with (amazing, but contained) view of the city. 

It was a cage. 

As you watched Nick walk away after he paid in advance for the order, though he took with him some chilling sense of danger, you envied his freedom to simply walk away from the sun and the blooms. 

Many would be jealous of you, you were aware of that. Living among lush greenery and constant sun seemed wonderful. It was to an extent. But this pristine, spring and summer only land, didn’t allow difference. There was no real room for unusual, dark undertones of wicked hearts that would love to have wild mushrooms spread over their lawn instead of snobby hydrangeas. 

When a cooling cloud shielded you from the scorching sun, coming along with Nick as he returned the next week, you felt like breathing freely for the first time since he walked away. 

This time he asked for fruit trees which he wanted to scatter among other types. The idea immediately struck you as unique, making your heart jump. 

Most of the time people divided their gardens - strict lines and areas for vegetables, separating them from decorative flowers. Mixing them up seemed chaotic, but so wonderful. What a surprise to walk through gemstone garlands of wisteria to find juicy peaches at arm’s reach. Or to tread through ferns and moonflowers to discover gooseberry bushes hidden amongst them. 

When Nick came on a third week, your excitement at his presence and news of his garden overpowered any sense of reason that kept you at a certain distance with him. 

And when he mentioned that keeping a routine and being at the center on the same day, same hour every week could be dangerous. 

“Someone could watch you, learn your schedule and plan how to steal you, Moonflower.” 

Having Nick call you Moonflower - the word rolling out on his tongue in a hum of wind, chilling to the bone, but igniting that deep-soul yearning - stirred feelings that overpowered the warning. 

Or maybe you started living for that rush of thrill Nick’s shadow elicited. The only spot of darkness allowed in your life. Enriching it thus. 

Still, fear resurfaced with tentacles of cold wrapping around you and plucking you from the sunny spot in broad daylight as you trotted to work the week after. On the same day as usual, with a bounce to your step as thirst for Nick’s brand of addictive flavor parched your throat. 

The car was black; a polished, obsidian arrowhead spearing the sheet of morning light. The engine’s sound more the growl of a prowling beast than the roar of an unhinged monster. 

Despite the speed, it stopped gracefully at the curb, cutting off your route. Nick’s silhouette stunned you as he exited the car; the blue-green depth of his eyes darker than when he walked along with you through blooming alleys. 

A smile didn’t have a chance to spread on your lips when his hand covered your mouth, the other arm wrapping around you. 

You screamed when he dragged you inside the car, but calloused fingers stifled the sound effectively. Wet tinkle of your cries reverberated against the metal of the rings adorning Nick’s fingers. 

Pleading eyes, so full of unanswered questions and fear, didn’t cut through the veil of composure. One had no chance begging their life out of death’s grip and Nick’s hold on you was a finality set in stone, as if the grim reaper came to harvest your soul to lead it to undying gardens for the rest of eternity. 

“No need for tears, Moonflower.” Nick took his hand from your mouth as the car sped away.

His touch traveled down your shaking arm, harsh fingers delivering surprisingly comforting caress. He took your hand in his and brough your palm to his mouth, kissing softly each knuckle. 

“I’ll make you a queen and treat you as such. No harm will ever be done to you.” 

“You kidnapped me,” you pointed out, voice quiet and quivering, though you bravely held his gaze. “That’s quite harmful.” 

“It’s only a means to avoid meddling of forces that would otherwise keep you away from me.” Nick rested his head back against the seat. “From what I found out about you, they’ve quashed you enough.”

“You know nothing about me, or my life!” You huffed, squirming back into the corner, your back against the side door.

You were never a physical fighter and Nick made no move to grip or hurt you other than pulling you into the car, so you didn’t attack him. You also doubted you had much of a chance of earning anything beside exhaustion and bruises. 

It was pitiful to admit, but you never fought anything or anyone beside the dragons in your head. The rebellion and storm were caged within your chest, mind full of words you wanted to scream at your mother, your father, the whole world. But you never did it. Never felt secure enough in your strength to cut those ties. 

“I know you’re dedicated and smart, finished on top of your class, gaining a degree that you never wanted to have in the first place.” Nick replied calmly.

His unperturbed composure was as much soothing as resonating with your usual behavior. Though you sensed that his limits weren’t pushable. If it came to it, his retaliation to being crossed would be severe. Lethal even. 

You envied that power. 

You wanted that power.

“You have passion for creativity and you are a fucking brilliant survivor.” Those words were spoken with admiration; a brilliant foam lighting up the sea storm of Nick’s irises. 

“You don’t love gardening as a business. I doubt you’re even interested in actual gardening work. But you see and love plants, their uniqueness, the details of them. You like their beauty, even the unusual ones. You’re an artist, Moonflower.”

Your heart burst with an intermixture of colorful emotion - a hail of fireworks against the black depth that is your caged life. 

“Artists should never be shackled into expectations.” 

“Yet you took me, because you expect something from it,” you retorted bitterly. 

“I expect nothing beyond you being by my side.” Nick’s fingers circled one of your wrists, thumb pressing against your pulse. “And strengthening the power of my empire.” 

“And how am I supposed to do that?” There was nothing of value that you could give him. Did he hope for a dowry and connections from your father? 

“Just by being with me.” He shifted, crowding you against your little safety corner. “Coming home to you would sweeten every hard day, knowing that I ripped something most precious from the one who took everything from my family.”

Comforting spices of his scent conflicted with the shadows he shrouded you in, painting a picture of a fairy tale that’s twisted enough that it shouldn’t be enjoyable. Yet struggling against the thorny veins of Nick’s plan seemed to have the opposite effect, pushing you further into forests of unknown thrills. 

“So I’m a vengeance plan?” You’d prefer it if your voice didn’t betray the disappointment, but it was too late to take back that undertone now. 

“Vengeance doesn’t mean burning the world down. That’s too simple and holds no ongoing effect.” Nick’s mouth curved in a scythe of dangerously alluring smirk, his eyes darkening. “Phoenixes rise from the ashes of burnt kingdoms. I rose from it.”

“My type of vengeance is to flourish on the fertile fields of my enemy’s broken ambitions.”

You believed Nick’s every word - that he had the resilience and endurance to build himself from whatever ruin his opponents left him with. It honed him, like hell fire does an indestructible blade. 

Many would use that lethal edge to cut the throats of all enemies. But Nick’s revenge wasn’t to bring short term pain and wipe out the others, he wanted them to drown in their suffering, to stretch it out plucking petal after petal of their lush empires. 

“You, Moonflower-” he skimmed his fingers along your arm and up the column of your throat- “are my prosperity. My core to thrive.”

“Binding you to me and allowing you to bloom into a woman you always wished to be, whatever form that may take,” Nick loosely curled his fingers around your neck, “will make me happy for I know you’re a brilliant gem. But I won’t hide that it will also crush the rotten heart of my enemy.”

“Seeing you at my side, growing along me and with me-” something about that particular choice of words unfurled heat in your core, like the time he mentioned flowers staying full-

“-will keep the flame of anger and pain consuming her daily.”

“Her?” you suddenly blinked, moving your legs slightly to alleviate the pressure that uncomfortably grazed your folds. 

“My mother?” You stared at Nick in bewilderment. “She’s your enemy?” 

Nick chuckled, though you weren’t sure if it was at your astonishment or the squirmy movement of your body which he noticed. He leaned closer still, knees brushing against yours. Where the fabric of your summer dress rolled up on your thighs, the fine fabric of his suit pants grazed your skin. 

“Your mother may present herself as the survivor against all odds and she is very determined, I’ll give her that. She also became heartless in her need to improve her life and show the world she doesn’t need help, ripping the fortune of others to build herself.” 

“She stole from you?” There wasn’t much shock in your response. After all, you knew the backstage face of the gardening queen; the truth behind the sunny smile of the nature-loving new age goddess. 

“From my family.” Nick gritted his teeth at the mention. “They took her pregnant under their roof, taught her family secrets of maintaining lush flowers. I was barely four when you were growing in her belly, but I remember her always slapping my hand away when I wanted to touch it, to feel a tiny baby miracle kicking.”

He didn’t say it, but you began to understand the part of possessiveness. The touch he didn’t withdraw an inch once he was able to reach for you freely. Something he was denied, now he ripped it away for himself. 

“First she stole the knowledge, then farms and fields.” Nick continued, his voice heavy with ice cold anger. “Came with fancy lawyers and bulldozers, chasing my family away from the scrap of land and the mounds of soil that my grandparents brought from Romania.”

You remembered one time your mother mentioned something about the secret being in the soil, a harpy reflection to her smile when she did. 

“My mother’s heart couldn’t take it. My father fled to Romania, finding the only solace in a small square of land where he grew a new hybrid of flowers. Named it after my mother.” 

Nick paused for a moment, his eyes boring into yours. A few breaths and the rage surpassed, leaving the lull of oceanic waves in his eyes. They rocked you as you held his gaze; your body attuning to the pulse of crackling fireplace on a dead cold autumn night that was Nick’s aura. 

“I’m not a gardener myself,” Nick shrugged, easing his free hand up your leg. “But I know how to plow through hard and high grounds. I’ve made myself a different kind of empire, though I always remained respectful of nature and plants, as my parents did.” 

You didn’t even feel him grip you any harder, yet somehow Nick managed to switch your positions in a blink of an eye - pulling you onto his lap. 

One of his hands remained at your throat, thumb gently stroking up and down along your pulsing vein. 

“You’ll be my queen. You’ll give me heirs.” It wasn’t a proposition, but a declaration of decision set in stone. “I’ll give you the freedom and power you so desperately crave.”

“What do you know of my cravings?” You hoped to challenge his confidence, to fight against the tendrils of magnetic pull that weaved around your limbs. 

“I know you turned my way like a plant does seeking the sun,” Nick’s hand slid beneath your dress. “Keeping so close, coming even closer each time, like an addict hopes to lick a single fleck of whatever gets him high.” 

Cool rings pressed into your skin, spiking your heart rate into a paradoxical pasodoble between desire and trepidation. Just like the nights you used your own fingers to the image of Nick fucking you in the night garden. 

“I know each time you thought I was coming to visit, you wore a shorter dress.” His fingers on your thigh inched further up. “This one today? If I met you inside the gardening center and you’d bend over to show me moss arrangements, I’d get a peek of your ass.” 

He did get that peek. 

When he bent you over his bed that night. After having you sign your name on all the legally (illegally too, undoubtedly) binding documents as a paid, stoic-faced registrar officiated your wedding. The ink was deep red, as blood that one spills for the devil. 

Red was also the wine Nick brought to your lips in a crystal glass. The rich, thick taste of it was a bland mist compared to the burning magma of Nick’s lips against yours, molting away the taste of your previous life as he sealed your contract. 

One hand on the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he fed you his sinful tongue, the other buried beneath your sundress. Firm, relentless fingers eliciting tangy, warm rain from between your thighs; watering the soil of the garden filled with plants that you picked. That you loved and Nick provided for you. 

He made you mark the land as yours, as he marked you as his. Your voice an enchanted cry of spell that was Nick’s name. 

Then he took you to the bedroom - the heart of the underworld kingdom. 

Though the dark interior sent a ripple of unease down your spine at first; it was like stepping into a cold, mountain stream after days of hiking in blinding sun. Then the jewel undertones of onyx and cuprite engulfed you. Shimmering black curtains of the canopy parted its wings for you, as Nick led you to the bed. 

You never strayed from dirt, but it only stained your hands and clothes as you worked with soil. The dirt spilling from Nick’s mouth as he took you seemed to twist your body into inhuman arches of pleasure, reshaping your mind so it became greedy for the sizzling impulses his filthy words elicited.

Tightest cunt.

Delicious hole. 

Breedable pussy.

Mine.

Tears trickled down your cheeks - a salty passage from a girly life of obedient silence into empowered if dark womanhood. Briny dew altered into shy sweetness as your moans stretched, tears turning into those of overwhelming pleasure. 

Nick showered you with it. With his tongue and fingers; with his cock that filled you with girth and the precious spent he cursed to take root in your womb. 

He led you like a queen, just like he promised, once you were able to stand on your trembling legs after hours of being both worshiped and owned. A silk robe in a color of a red so dark it might as well be woven from arterial blood floated around your frame as Nick took you into the garden. 

His fingers intertwined with yours. His pace adjusted to yours, not once rushing or slowing you down. 

Focused on admiring the beauty of silvery moonflowers and creamy bells of Angel’s Trumpets, you didn’t notice Nick’s eyes were only on you. 

#biteofcherry's birthday banquet #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x female reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler imagine #nick fowler fic #hades x persephone AU #my writing #sweet and stained

[sc0tters]

Ambers 500 Celly Playlist

Hello and welcome to the 500 follower Celebration!

I asked and you voted so this celly has 20 of my favourite tropes!

I’m usually pretty lenient with my request rules but this one as some differences so please read the request key below this!

Free Choice - you can pick any player you want for tropes in this category nhl or collegiate level will work for this!

NHL Player Only - these are the prompts that I will only accept with NHL players in the request. These NHL players have to had joined an NHL team in the 2021-2022 a season at the latest (all rookies from last season are not eligible for this category)

Prompts - similar to free choice, anyone can be picked for these. These five prompts are brand new and only for this celly.

As all slots have now been allocated a player, happy reading my lovelies!

Free Choice

Brothers Best Friend - Alex Turcotte

Best Friends Brother - [Rutger McGroarty] Rutger isn’t a very good matchmaker when everyone he suggests isn’t him.

Friends to Lovers - [Mikko Rantanen] when Mikko sees you with one of his teammates he realises that he wants to be more than just your friend.

Enemies to Lovers - Jacob Fowler

Right Person Wrong Time - [Will Smith] confessions are made when you get trapped in an elevator with your ex

One Bed - [Gabe Perreault ] when things get said during spring break, you realise gabe doesn’t hate you all as much as he makes it seem.

Sunshine vs Grumpy - Luke Hughes

Secret Lovers - [Drew Fortescue] you and Drew have been dating for a while now but a series of events cause your relationship to become known to all rather quickly after practice one day.

Forced Proximity - [Mark Estapa] when a game of beer pong turns interesting you learn to realise that your brothers friend isn't so bad after all.

Accidental Pregnancy - Cole Caufield

Teammates Sister - Juraj Slafkovsky

Captains Sister - [Adam Fantilli] an obstacle quickly comes in your relationship when Nolan learns about your relationship with his teammate, there is light at the end of that tunnel but how do you get to it?

Fake Dating - [Luca Fantilli] who would have thought fake dating could end up so messy?

Lessons in Bed - [Mackie Samoskevich] when Mackie learns of your struggles he finds a way for you both to win.

NHL players only!

Next Door Neighbours - [Jamie Drysdale] Jamie has been pining over the girl next door so it’s about time he does something about it.

Single Parent - [Mat Barzal] Mat’s son meets his next door neighbour and quickly befriends her, what happens when Mat falls for her much like she does for him?

Exes to Lovers - [Jack Hughes] when Quinn invites you back to the lake house it forces you to reconvene with your ex. What happens when Jack misses you just as much as you miss him?

Love Triangle - [Trevor Zegras & Mason McTavish] when it’s the annual Halloween party Mason has a surprise that you’re sure to enjoy.

Division Rivals - [Quinn Hughes] when the flames came to visit it brought back old memories, including why you hated quinn.

Dads Friend - [Sidney Crosby] when you push Sidney to his limits, he decides to teach you a lesson.

Prompts

"i never should've expected anything different from you." - [Quinn Hughes] Quinn finally learns how to settle down in life but when a girl finds him during a roadie it causes the biggest obstacle in your relationship yet.

"is that really all i am to you?” - [Jamie Drysdale] when Jamie gets the news that he’s being traded his departure comes with you having questions.

"you both were practically made for each other." - [Mark Estapa] wanting to get Marks attention is something you never thought would land you in his bed.

"if you leave now, you better not come back." - [Adam Fantilli] with the draft hanging over Adam’s head and the view of you getting on with another man brings the end of your relationship, but what happens when you two see each other again?

"i just... i thought you would've called." - [Trevor Zegras] you and Trevor are forced to confront your past when you are brought back together for Alex’s birthday.

#ambers 500 celly

[mutant-distraction]

Kenneth Fowler

Sunrise. Banner Peak from Thousand Island Lake. September

Wikipedia

Banner Peak is the second tallest peak in the Ritter Range of California's Sierra Nevada. The mountain is 12,942 feet (3,945 m) tall, and there are several glaciers on its slopes.

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

December 11th, 1995 - Queen Story!

Queen released ‘A Winter's Tale’/‘Thank God It's Christmas’/'Rock In Rio Blues’ in UK

🔸"Freddie wrote the song in Montreux, in a little house on the lake that we called The Duck House. The extraordinary thing is he's talking about life and its beauty at a time when he knows he hasn't got very long to go, yet there's no wallowing in emotion, it's just absolutely purely observed.

So that's the way I wanted my solo to be. It was one of those things where I could hear it in my head, long before I actually got to play it. And when I recorded it, at my home studio, in my head I was there with Freddie in Montreux in those moments, even though this was happening long after he was gone."

- Brian May, Mojo magazine

🔸🔸The statue is now a permanent fixture by the lake, with Freddie standing proud, purveyor of a spectacular landscape and the many people that come to visit him there. The effigy is every bit as imposing as Freddie was on stage and has become a great tourist attraction. Queen's inimitable front man stands tall, overseeing the view he himself enjoyed so much and indeed captured in the lyrics of one of his final songs, A Winter's Tale; swans floating by, sea-gulls flying over, a silky moon up in the sky, mountains zoomin' higher, quiet and peaceful, tranquil and blissful, a kind of magic in the air, a truly magnificent view, a breathtaking scene, an extraordinary place!

(queenonline.com)

Pic: November 1990 - Freddie Mercury photo session 'Headlong'

📸 Photographer © Simon Fowler

Full Officiale Video 👇

https://youtu.be/CjWQZBmJf6M

#a winter's tale #1991 #freddie mercury #queen band #london #zanzibar #legend #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddiebulsara #roger taylor #montreux #switzerland #made in heaven album #made in heaven #1995 #simon fowler #freddie mercury statue #Spotify

[banefolk]

Mab’s Drawlloween Day 12: Toad

My favourite toad is the Fowler’s toad (Anaxyrus fowleri), a little poisonous toad native to eastern North America. According to field guides and conservationists it’s not supposed to be in Ontario past Lake Erie, but I see it all the time in the Ottawa Valley. A lot of critters (and plants and fungi) are moving up here due to climate change and habitat encroachment.

I don’t just love toads because they’re poisonous, I love them because they are perfect. They haven’t needed to evolve in millions of years. They are “sit and wait” hunters, similar to spiders that are ambush predators. They just chill in the dirt and dead leaves and wait for food to come to them. Their whole life is “just bugs”. The creators of “work smarter, not harder”. They have a lot to teach us about patience, strategy, playing dumb, and doing well despite being lazy. Role model material, honestly.

#bane folk #toads #fowler’s toad #anaxyrus fowleri #poisonous animals #poison path fauna #poison path #inktober #mabsdrawlloweenclub #mabsdrawlloween2023 #mdwc23 #mdwc23d12

[sepdet]

@tangerinebonfire Rather than spam @headspace-hotel 's delightful pawpaw post further, I'm making my own primate post on my favorite target of foraging.

I grew up in rural Pennsylvania nibbling wild raspberries, blackberries, strawberries, and tiny blueberries on summer trips to Ontario, chewing sassafras and sipping on honeysuckle, but wineberries were queen. I probably haven't tasted wineberries in 30 years, as I moved away from the east coast in 1996. They're on my shortlist of things I miss after loved ones, lightning bugs, thunderstorms, and beech trees.

Lookit these beauties.

Unlike raspberries, they're meltingly soft. No crunchies. If you pick them unripe, they're tart, but still fairly tasty,

Unripe ones are amber-orange, ripening to lush crimson, which is the perfect blend of honey-sweet and tart/citrus, deepening to pomegranate seed red.

The NYT's Urban Forager blog describes wineberries as a "citrusy wild fruit which tastes like a cross between a raspberry and a California orange" (by which I can only assume they mean something like the 1930s Valencia orange tree in the back yard of my friends in Westminster, CA; store-bought oranges are a different animal). The Guardian's gardening columnist Alys Fowler says...

"…sherbert"

She also irresponsibly suggests planting some right after mentioning finding a forest overrun with them between Lakes Como and Maggiore, and noting her mom's own patch tended to get around. If you look them up in the US, you find a slew of articles lamenting wineberries as invasives, often while admitting ruefully that they're delicious.

Apparently they were/are planted in Japan, Korea and China as ornamentals, not just for the fruit, since the canes turn as red as the berries. Their invasiveness is the only thing keeping me from committing a deadly sin and buying seeds or plants online from unscrupulous suppliers. But I live in California now, and I mustn't.

#wineberries #little pennsylvania things

[usafphantom2]

A Flight of Four Mustangs Celebrates WWII Fighter Pilot’s 100th Birthday

March 20, 2024 Vintage Aviation News Warbirds News 0

The formation of four Mustangs flying over Lake Lanier, north of Atlanta.

United Fuel Cells

Mission accomplished! On Tuesday, March 19, World War II pilot Paul Crawford fulfilled his dream of flying in a P-51 Mustang like the one he commanded 79 years ago in China, where he flew 29 missions until he was shot down in 1945. Now 100, Buckhead resident Crawford was delighted when the Liberty Foundation and Inspire Aviation Foundation took him up in a TF-51D on a perfect blue-sky day for flying.

TF-51 “E Pluribus Unum” piloted by owner Bob Bull with Paul Crawford in the back leads the formation over Lake Lanier. The camera ship was a Bonanza piloted by long time Liberty Foundation’s pilot Cullen Underwood.

For the occasion, four P-51 Mustangs landed at the Dekalb-Peachtree Airport and parked at Atlantic Aviation, the FBO that supported this unique event. Mr. Crawford lovingly touched the nose and wing of one of the Mustangs when he first walked up to it, reuniting after a 79-year separation. LtCol Ray Fowler, Liberty Foundation Chief Pilot, and pilot Bob Bull helped Crawford into the back seat of the TF-51 and gave him an exhilarating 30-minute ride.

The organizers envisioned the participation of only one P-51, but a quick round of calls sparked the interest of other owners who enthusiastically decided to participate in the event. Bob Bull, Steve Maher, and Rodney Allison flew their Mustangs to Atlanta bringing the total number to four:

P-51D “Old Crow” (N451MG) – Pilot Ray Fowler – Liberty Foundation P-51D “Rebel” (N3BB) – Pilot Rodney Allison P-51 “E Pluribus Unum” (N351B) – Pilot Bob Bull – P-51 “Ain’t Missbehavin” (N51K) – Pilot Steve Maher

The Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor and Paul graduated six months later, during which time Congress passed the law to draft 18-year-olds. “I knew that I was going to be drafted so I went to Atlanta to talk with the Army Air Corps [sic] and the Navy about flying,” shared Mr. Crawford. ”The Navy said they would accept me for flight training but wanted me to go right then to their Great Lakes training center. The Air Corps told me they would accept me, but to go on back to college and they would notify me when to report.” said Crawford. Paul went back to Americus, entered Georgia Southwestern College, and shortly thereafter he received his draft notice to report to Fort McPherson in Atlanta on January 2, 1942.

Paul Crawford in his P-51 ‘Little Rebel’ ( photo by Paul Crawford Collection)

Paul had an older brother, Tim, who had gone into the Air Corps before Pearl Harbor and was flying B-26s, a medium bomber. He ended up flying combat in the B-17 Flying Fortress out of North Africa. The older brother influenced Paul’s choice, convincing him that the Air Corps had better aircraft, “I thought the water was, as they say, too deep and too wide to swim!” said Mr. Crawford.

With about 100 hours on the P-51 and 250-275 hours total, Mr. Crawford was sent off to Chengtu, China assigned to the 311th Fighter Group, 529th Fighter Squadron protecting the B-29 bases. As these B-29s transferred to the Pacific Theater, his squadron was transferred to Hsian headed for combat. At the time, Mr. Crawford was estimated to have only accumulated another 60 hours of flying time.

On his 29th mission, Mr. Crawford was shot down by ground fire while strafing a small railroad facility. After getting hit, he bailed out and was picked up by Chinese Communist guerillas. A few days earlier one of his housemates had been shot down and captured by the Japanese who cut his head off and put it up on a gate post. After a 200-mile-long walk, chased by the Japanese a couple of times, yet still evading capture, Mr. Crawford ended up at a compound owned by a wealthy family. A few miles from the compound was an airstrip where the OSS (U.S. Office of Strategic Services) brought downed airmen out. After the flight, Mr. Crawford talked about his experience: “When I recall my time in World War II, I always start by saying, I was not a hero! I was just there! That is not false modesty because it is the way I have always felt. I flew the P-51 Mustang.”

Mr. Crawford who has time in P-40, P-47, A-24, and P-51C, believes that the P-51 was the best fighter plane of its day. “There’s nothing in the world like that airplane,” Crawford said. “I loved doing the maneuvers again.” Paul Crawford was surrounded by several friends, his son-in-law, Tommy, and dozens of Liberty Foundation and Inspire Aviation Foundation members eager to have their pictures taken with him, shake his hand, and thank him for his service.

Ezoic

After serving in WWII, Paul Crawford finished college at Georgia Tech with a degree in Industrial Management. That’s also where he met his wife, Jean. They had a daughter and were married for sixty-one years when Jean passed away. Paul worked in the paper industry and for the U.S. Envelope Company until he retired in 1988. Paul currently lives in Atlanta and participates in aviation and historical WWII events.

This special event was made possible thanks to the support of Bob Bull, Ray Fowler Chief Pilot of The Liberty Foundation, Steve Maher, Atlantic Aviation FBO, Cullen Underwood with Vintage Flights, and Inspire Aviation Foundation.

Paul Crawford after the successful flight with (L to R), Cullen Underwood (Camera ship pilot), Bob Bull, Ray Fowler, and Rodney Allison.

[beyondmistland]

The Dance of the Two Hands (Appendix I)

Initial Supporters of the Line of Prince Manfred:

House Appleton

House Ashford

House Beesbury

House Blackbar

House Bulwer

House Caswell

House Chester

House Conklyn

House Cuy

House Florent

House Grimm

House Hewett

House Hunt

House Merryweather

House Osgrey of Coldmoat

House Osgrey of Leafy Lake

House Rowan

House Serry

House Stackhouse

House Tarly

House Webber

Initial Supporters of the Line of Prince Morgan:

House Ambrose

House Costayne

House Dunn

House Fossoway

House Graceford

House Hastwyck

House Hightower

House Leygood

House Manderly

House Mullendore

House Norcross

House Oakheart

House Orme

House Peake

House Risley

House Roxton

House Uffering

House Varner

Initially Neutral:

House Ball

House Bourney

House Corne

House Crane

House Cupps

House Footly

House Inchfield

House Meadows

House Osgrey of Standfast

House Redwyne

House Rhysling

House Rodden

House Strickland

House Vyrwel

Others:

Stormlands

House Caron

House Dondarrion

House Durrandon

House Selmy

House Swann

Dorne

House Dayne of Starfall

House Dayne of High Hermitage

House Fowler

Riverlands

House Shawney

House Strong

House Teague

Westerlands

House Crakehall

House Lannister of Casterly Rock

House Lannister of Lannisport

House Marbrand

House Reyne

House Swyft

House Tarbeck

House Westerling

#asoiaf worldbuilding #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf #house gardener #the reach #house hightower #oldtown #highgarden

[haunted-hijinxer]

Now for the follow up question, what was the worst ending you had planned for Cthulu AU Season 2?

Hahaha, oh boy…! For a lot of these most of the ‘worst’ endings I’ve considered are the ones baked into the scenario, though occasionally the specifics of the group or additions I’ve made can add to them.

I've got some from the book and some specific to our playthrough under the cut!

For Tell Me, Have You Seen the Yellow Sign, the big one (aside from just being killed by the various antagonists) is failing to stop Fowler’s full ascension as an Avatar of the Yellow King, and the dreams of everyone who has seen the sign being plagued with increasingly mind-rending visions of Carcosa for, as the scenario puts it in its final words, “as long as their sanity holds out. Soon they too will be faithful subjects of the Yellow King, devoted to spreading his Yellow Sign so that others may rejoice in his reign.” If Henry hadn’t tried to confront the sign head on and learned he could cleanse it, even with Joey miraculously never having seen the sign, this could have ended with all the other boys slowly going utterly insane... with Joey unable to stop it. 

Another recurring bad-ending threat was various investigators getting kidnapped as Peter did and being lost forever in dread Carcosa. This could also happen if they interfered in the wrong way with the summoning ritual at the lake, or if things went sideways at the party. Once the threat of the party was over, anyone lost there would have been stranded in that maddening realm, just as Fowler was. 

Speaking of bad things I had planned, I had strongly expected that once Peter was gone, there would be no chance to save him until the actual party, at which point he would have been much worse off sanity-wise and could have even been an obstacle, or a lure to tempt Jack into danger at the party. That would have been fun, but I have to say, I’m still delighted over the perfect storm of Mochi and Boo completely rewriting how all that went down!!

Okay, what other horrible fates had I considered… OH

A big one was that Prophet got scarily close to sacrificing someone!! When the group was all working together in the finale, everyone was mostly voicing how glad they were Prophet was cooperating to help them stop Fowler, and the plan was that Prophet who had been blessed with knowledge of the ritual would be the one to purify the stone. But if he had done it, that sure would have left Prophet with the freshly restored eldritch relic able to choose the next host of his Lord right there in his hand… if he’d cut someone with the restored stone, there weren’t any convenient time loops going on this time to bail them out, and if any of the players had contingency plans for this, I sure didn’t know about them, haha! 

Joey ended up having an insanity lead to him trying to bind the stone to himself instead to remove the influence of the Yellow King, though this was at the cost of large chunks of his POW and CON. If Henry hadn’t had gold blood power left to soak some of the strain on Joey, it’s possible Joey could have completely crippled or even killed himself in the attempt.  On the flip side, if Henry had tried to push into giving much more than he did, he could have given himself sufficient blood loss to have risked death as well.

BUT EVEN THEN, this left Joey and Henry badly drained by the time Prophet showed up. Prophet had a fairly difficult check to retrieve the stone from Joey-Lurker’s then-goopy form, but boy, what a time that would have been for Prophet to roll an extreme success! He would have had a few moments with the restored stone, and no one else there but Henry and Joey, prime sacrifices, helpless before him. 

Another fun one was when Prophet told Fowler he served a higher power…and it was then Fowler understood exactly why Prophet had been resisting the sign, and tried to forcefully realign the ink in Prophet to the Yellow King. If Prophet hadn’t made his rolls to resist, he would have spent the rest of his ink dose as Fowler’s loyal aide, full of maddening music to share as the Prophet of the Yellow King. If Fowler had found the opportunity to grant his new minion a suitably powerful Yellow Sign of his own, he might even have stayed that way indefinitely…a fate Sammy and Prophet might both have considered worse than death.

Just lots of fun options in good ol' Call of Cthulhu!!

#call of cthulhu: haunted hijinx #thren answers #thren posts #I am so curious if people had plans to deal with Prophet trying to sacrifice anyone #Cuz thanks to DMs from Shazz I sure knew Prophet was thinking about it haha!!!

[strangefable]

And the last fic for @detectivelokis's Far Cry 5 Anniversary Exchange, for @sinnerburrito. This one features Sharky Boshaw.

Title: Ponder on the Dock Rating: Gen/light Teen Word Count: 924 3 of 3

The water lapped gently against the shore and the dock. The sky above was littered with stars twinkling merrily. Some distance away, the flicker of the bonfire crackled and danced to its own music. The sounds of laughter and pleasant voices carried across the breeze.

Sharky sank to the wooden slats below his feet and hung his legs out over the edge. He swatted at a stray bug, then set his beer can down beside him. He stared out at the lake, so big and open, but familiar. Too familiar, maybe.

He heaved a sigh. He picked up the beer and took a long pull. He didn't feel nearly drunk enough to go back to the others. To watch her with the new guy. It was embarrassing. He thought this time it had been different, but she hadn't agreed.

He wondered what signs he must have missed. She'd been so harsh when she dumped him, like he should've seen it coming.

Of course he hadn't. Good old oblivious Charlemagne, as always. He grumbled and kicked his leg out, but it met only air above the water.

He grunted. He wanted to throw something. All he had was the beer can. He looked at it. He looked out at the water.

He shook his head at himself. Better not. He took another pull instead. There was hardly any left. He coughed as the air nearly choked him, then crushed the can against the dock.

"This county can feel awful small sometimes."

Sharky jumped at the soft voice behind him. "Wade?"

Wade Fowler smiled and gave him a nod. Then he bent down and sat beside him on the dock. He held out another beer. This one was still dripping from the cooler.

Sharky shrugged and took the offered beer. "Yeah, maybe you're right. But where else is a guy like me gonna go?"

Wade took a sip of his own beer. He lifted one shoulder. "Who knows? Life can be unexpected. You shouldn't worry too much about…" He paused and waved a hand back toward the party. "Well… shit happens, you know?"

Sharky let out a low laugh. "Yeah, I know. Usually it's my fault."

Wade clapped a hand on his back. "Well now, I don't know if I'd go that far."

Sharky gave him a sidelong glance. "You'd be the only one."

Wade grinned. "You're not so bad, Boshaw." He took a drink from his own beer. "Sure, you start a lot of fires, but your heart's in the right place. Mostly. Even Cheeseburger doesn't mind you too much." Wade gave him a wink.

Sharky couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Maybe he just has me confused with a salmon."

Wade let out a long, loud laugh. "See, and you can crack a good joke, too. Like I said, not so bad."

Sharky sighed. He gave a sidelong glance over his shoulder, back toward the party. "She would not agree."

Wade shrugged. "Eh, so what? There's more fish in the lake. Hope County's small, but it's not that small. There's other women. You'll find someone else."

Sharky stared into the water. He didn't speak for several minutes. "I'm not so sure. My luck's pretty shit."

"Being alone isn't the worst, either. Romance isn't all there is to life."

Sharky sighed. Wade was only trying to help. Sharky appreciated it, but he felt hopeless and ashamed. Her words were still rattling around in his head, stinging at him. So many criticisms. Left a man feeling awful unsure.

"Listen, it takes time, I get that. But there's no need to believe when someone shouts their worst opinions of you."

Sharky winced. "So people heard?"

Wade gave a soft laugh. "Yeah, but people would've even if she hadn't shouted loud enough for all the gossips in the trailer park. You know how it is around here."

Sharky nodded. "Yeah, everybody knows everybody. Ugh."

"Again, man, you're not that bad. She's pissed off, don't take it like she's the only one with opinions that matter." He patted Sharky's shoulder. "Let her be mad, but let her go. You're not a bad guy. You're just not her kind of guy."

They sat quietly for a moment longer. Then Wade heaved himself to his feet with a grunt. "Come on back soon, man."

Sharky gave a nod, and tipped his beer can to the other man. Wade smiled and turned and walked away, leaving Sharky to stare out across the water a while longer.

The wind blew softly. The stars kept on twinkling above. The bonfire crackled in the distance. The water lapped against the shoreline and the dock beneath him. Crickets chirped. An owl hooted somewhere in the trees, the sound carrying across the water. The night air was crisp and cool, soothing against his skin.

He had to admit, the view was still beautiful when you stopped and remembered to look. That was one thing to hold onto. He'd try to take Wade's words to heart, but it wasn't like she'd been the first to tell him all his faults.

Still, if Wade Fowler didn't think he was a bad guy, that had to count for something. Maybe other people even thought the same. A guy could hope, at least.

Yeah, he'd go back in a minute. She couldn't scare him away. A man has to have some pride, even if he's only pretending. He gave a nod. He took another drink and smiled to himself as he looked out at the water. Just a couple more minutes.

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