#Burning Walrus

[reunitedinterlude]

slutty emo phase

bonus:

#how many times will i re-use / re-gif that red carpets moment. many times actually #dan and phil #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #amazingphil #phil lester #danandphilgames #dpgdaily #phan #dnp gifs #my gifs #compilation #DIL TAKES DOWN THE COPS - Dan and Phil play The Sims 4: Season 2 (10) #Roasting our own Red Carpet Fashion #AmazingJason #AmazingAlex #HAYFEVER SUCKS! #Burning Walrus

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Rough Winter | Yandere Polar-Bear Hybrid Pirate

There was something oddly eerie about the stillness of a biome meant to remain frozen. It was far too cold to hear the screech of even the most resilient birds; who wouldn’t migrate here if they could. Far too frigid for the reaching branches of any tree, with no soil beds for any determined sprout. 

No. 

No natural force would stay in the Arctic Wastelands. 

No one but Captain Poal.

Captain Poal and the crew he’d chained to his cursed vessel. 

“Land-Ho! We’re home, boys!”

The word felt like salt in the wound. You hadn’t been able to go to your home…your real home in what felt like ages. But what would be left? For a crew from a frigid biome, they had quite the fascination with fire. 

“Aw is the pup getting homesick?” 

Sen had a cruel and broad smile across his face as the ship sped forward to the floating fortress. The boat rocked with the jostling waves. You no longer needed to clutch the sides, easily maintaining your balance. It hurt to know this was no longer foreign to you.

“Senfried! Don’t be so rude. (Y/n)’s never been to this home before. This will be their first real welcome home.”

“Ooops~I forgot~”

Sen didn’t forget. He was just cruel like that. 

Despite his cruelness, he didn’t strike you as a kindred spirit to Poal. You wondered if he would have said the same if he had been there. Feeling the alcoholic buzz of the Summer festival, the sauntering joy of many living beings. Only for it all to dissipate in the suffocating haze of a burning inferno. And if it wasn’t enough that the sound of your home caving in on itself wasn’t enough then the helpless screams of all of those trapped inside would do it for you. 

The enflamed ashes skim your face as your eyes fight the smoke to burn the images of the late escapees into your mind's eye. Burning bodies both sprinting for water and falling out in a desperate call for death; it was a horrifying scene. 

Would he still be laughing then? 

Laughing as he watched the melting hands reach out to you one last time. 

Would he do that?

“(Y/n)? Are you alright?”

You let yourself return to the present, to Flynn placing a large hand on your back. The comforting gesture does the opposite, as you recall the same action being done that same night. You stepped away, ignoring those downcast expressions behind his glasses. Even Sen seemed to hesitate as you turned to woefully look at the rushing, raging waters.

Sen opened his mouth to speak, closing it as the Captain’s presence appeared with a thud. Booming footsteps commanded their attention and should have garnered yours. There wasn’t a need to look up when you already memorized the clinking seal-skinned boots. 

“Oi Oi is there an issue over here?”

Sen scrambled with a quick response. 

“Yes, Cap’n we’re all good here! Just excited to be home is all!”

His tone was light as usual, with no evidence of his previous pestering. Flynn on the other hand didn’t bother to let his hazel gaze point to you, before discretely pushing his spectacles up his nose. 

“Yes, we are all…ecstatic. ”

The Captain’s round and furry ears flicked in annoyance; silently communicating with his trusted first mate. Who nodded with the bow of his head. The Captain nodded upwards–a proper dismissal among friends.

“Well me and Senfield will prepare the rest of the crew. While our treasures may be compartmentalized they have yet to be moved.”

“Wait why do I have to come?”

“Senfield.”

“Don’t Senfield me! You always ack–! Hey”

Flynn dragged the hybrid by the stump of a tail before shifting to simply nudge him forward; effortlessly launching Sen ahead. Sen wasn’t a particularly big guy, given his species but not many could hold the line against a walrus hybrid. Especially not one as big as Flynn was.

Needless to say, your privacy was gifted by their absence.

Leaving you and the Captain alone on the deck of the ship. 

“What’s the problem, Snowball?”

You snarled at the nickname refusing to look up at him. He was probably smiling; casually flaunting the pearly razors so often stained with blood. 

“Don’t call me that!”

His fishy and sweltering breath fanned against your ear. When he had moved closer you’d never know. Speed and strength weren’t the traits he was lacking; that title belonged to his emotions. His sense of empathy and compassion was either nonexistent or skewed so much that it didn’t matter. 

“I’ll call you whatever I want.”

It wasn’t cold anymore. It was hot. Suffocating. 

His unclothed front was pressed into your back, his jacket-covered arms trapping your front. He was so insatiably warm. It felt like a fever had taken hold of you—an unnatural heat incurred by the chilling atmosphere.

“This is all your fault…I hate you Poal.”

The heat shook behind you. Vibrating with his stifled giggle. He clutched onto you tighter; muscles constricting you into his shaking embrace. His pointy nose dug into the top of your head, nuzzling into the woolen hat he gifted you before. 

“No, you don’t.” 

He let a steaming hand into your coat, shoving past the layers of cloth you’d put in place. You didn’t fight him, you couldn’t stop him as he reached for the skin above your heart. 

“You’re just mad that you lost.”

Retreating his hand from your protective layers he let you weakly cover up; before holding you by your cheeks. Turning your head to look up at the increasing size of the pirate’s fortress he squeezed at the resistance of your frown.

“Look at it. It’ll be one of your homes.”

“It will never be.”

“Don’t be coy. You’ll have a favorite eventually.”

“And you think it will be here?”

He turned you to him, pressing you into the side of the boat, clutching your face with a new ferocity. His head was already leveled above you coming closer to cast a shadow on his pale face framed by his unruly white locks as he looked down at you. In a fierce aquamarine glare, he doesn’t smile, looking as desperate as he is frustrated.

“I think it will be me.”

It wouldn’t help to struggle against his grip risking the pricking of his claws. So you simply returned his gaze knowing full well that backing down now would be your downfall. He backed his head away letting the light of the sun illuminate his face as he spread his mouth into a dastardly grin.

“You’re such a hurricane!”

He smashed his lips against yours. Quickly sucking on your pouting lips just barely nibbling before pulling away. He released you,  giggling to himself once more as he watched you recover. You rubbed your hand over your lip checking for any punctures glaring at him nonetheless. That seemed to make him smile wider, dashing away to knock on the door to the ship’s hold. 

“Buckle up Baby! We’re headed home to the fortress!”

Muffled shouts and hollers sounded from below. This would be your roughest Winter yet.

#yandere christmas #yandere hybrid #yandere polar bear #yandere polar bear hybrid #yandere pirate hybrid #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere pirate crew #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere ocs x reader #yandere ocs #yandere pirate oc #yandere pirate

[alphynix]

Crystal Palace Field Trip Part 1: Walking With Victorian Monsters

The Crystal Palace Dinosaurs take their name from the original Crystal Palace, a glass-paned exhibition building originally constructed for a World's Fair in Hyde Park in 1851.

In 1854 the structure was relocated 14km (~9 miles) south to the newly-created Crystal Palace Park, and a collection of over 30 life-sized statues of prehistoric animals were commissioned to accompany the reopening – creating a sort of Victorian dinosaur theme park – sculpted by Benjamin Waterhouse Hawkins with consultation from paleontologist Sir Richard Owen.

The Palace building itself burned down completely in 1936, and today only the ruins of its terraces remain in the northeast of the park grounds.

The Crystal Palace building then and now Left image circa 1854 (public domain) Right image circa 2011 by Mark Ahsmann (CC BY-SA 3.0)

Six sphinx statues based on the Great Sphinx of Tanis also survive up among the Palace ruins, flanking some of the terrace staircases. They fell into serious disrepair during the latter half of the 20th century, but in 2017 they all finally got some much-needed preservation work, repairing them and restoring their original Victorian red paint jobs.

———

…But let's get to what we're really here for. Dinosaurs! (…And assorted other prehistoric beasties!)

The "Dinosaur Court" down in the south end of the park still remains to this day, displayed across several islands in a man-made lake. Over the decades they've been through multiple cycles of neglect and renovation, and are currently cared for by the London Borough of Bromley (Crystal Palace Park Trust are due to take over custodial duties in September 2023), with promotion and fundraising assistance from organizations like Historic England and the Friends of the Crystal Palace Dinosaurs charity.

Just about 170 years old now, the Crystal Palace Dinosaurs represent fifteen different types of fossil creatures known to 1850s Victorian science, with only three actual dinosaur species featured. Although often derided for being outdated and very inaccurate by modern standards, they were actually incredibly good efforts at the time, especially taking into account that the field of paleontology was still in its very early days.

They also just have a lot of charm, with toothy grins and surprisingly dynamic poses.

Unfortunately on the day I visited in early August 2023 most of the statues were heavily obscured by plant growth, both on their islands and on the sides of the paths they can usually be viewed from. Since I'd seen images from about a month ago showing things being less overgrown, this was probably just some unlucky timing on my part coinciding with some explosive summer foliage growth.

The first island on the trail features a few Permian and Triassic animals which were only known from fragmentary remains in the 1850s. These "labyrinthodonts" were recognized as having similarities to both amphibians and reptiles, and so were depicted with boxy toothy jaws, warty skin, stumpy tails, and long frog-like back legs.

Today we'd call these particular animals temnospondyl amphibians, specifically Mastodonsaurus, and we know they were actually shaped more like giant salamanders with longer flatter crocodilian-like jaws, smaller legs, and long paddle-like tails.

———

Somewhere in the foliage beyond this specific "labyrinthodont" there was also supposed to be a pair of dicynodonts, but I couldn't see much of them at all and didn't manage to get a remotely visible photograph.

Crystal Palace Dicynodon when much less overgrown Left photo by London looks (CC BY 2.0) Right photo by Loz Pycock (CC BY SA 2.0)

These Dicynodon are depicted as looking like sabre-toothed turtles complete with shells. That was fairly speculative even for the time, but considering only their weird turtle-beaked-and-walrus-tusked skulls were known it was probably the best guess Hawkins and Owen had. Today we know these animals were actually synapsids related to modern mammals, but Victorian understanding considered them to be a type of reptile.

Modern reconstructions of dicynodonts have a slightly different face shape, along with squat pig-like bodies and semi-sprawling limbs. They may have had fur, but currently the only known actual skin impressions from the genus Lystrosaurus show leathery bumpy hairless skin.

———

Next time: the Jurassic and Cretaceous sculptures!

#field trip! #crystal palace dinosaurs #retrosaurs #i love them your honor #crystal palace park #crystal palace #labyrinthodont #temnospondyl #mastodonsaurus #dicynodont #dicynodon #synapsid #paleontology #vintage paleoart #art

[qaraxuanzenith]

see i don't think people should be less surprised by the walruses bc "fairies aren't real"

it's just that the walrus one literally happened, in a deleted but iconic scene of Goncharov

and for everyone who has that scene burned into their memory, i feel like when you see a walrus coming for you the way one came for Andrei, your first thought would be "of course"

#goncharov #walrus vs fairy

[batwynn]

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

            Only this and nothing more.”

    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

            Nameless here for evermore.

    And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

    “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

            This it is and nothing more.”

    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—

            Darkness there and nothing more.

    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—

            Merely this and nothing more.

    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

    “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;

      Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

            ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

    Open here I flung the door, when, with many a huff and grunting,

In there stepped a stoutly walrus of the saintly days of yore;

    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

    But, with mien of lord or lady, flopped at my chamber door—

Lay upon the floor at my chamber door—

            Loaf, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this briny creature beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

“Though thy form be fat and tubular, thou,” I said, “art sure no insular,

Ghastly grim and random walrus wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”

            Quoth the Walrus “Nevermore.”

    Much I marvelled this ungainly mammal to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

    Ever yet was blessed with seeing walrus at his chamber door—

Fish or beast upon the floor situated at his chamber door,

            With such name as “Nevermore.”

    But the Walrus, sitting lonely on the cold floor, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

    Nothing farther then he uttered—not a flipper then he flapped—

    Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have swam before—

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have swam before.”

            Then the Walrus said “Nevermore.”

    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store

    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

            Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

    But the Walrus still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of creature, and floor and door;

    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous mammal of yore—

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, fat, and ominous creature of yore

            Meant in roaring “Nevermore.”

    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the beast whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;

    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

    On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,

            She shall press, ah, nevermore!

    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

    “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

    Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”

            Quoth the Walrus “Nevermore.”

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if beast or devil!—

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

    On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”

            Quoth the Walrus “Nevermore.”

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if beast or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

            Quoth the Walrus “Nevermore.”

    “Be that word our sign of parting, beast or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—

“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

    Leave no yellow tusk as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

    Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the floor at my door!

Take thy tusks from out my heart, and take thy form from out my door!”

            Quoth the Walrus “Nevermore.”

    And the Walrus, never flipping, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the dark and dusty stretch just before my chamber door;

    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

            Shall be lifted—nevermore!

#walrus #walrus and fairy #edgar allan poe

[etoilesombre]

Fic Master List

I got tired of having to decide which fic post to keep pinned, so I made this. Proper summaries, tags and warnings all on AO3.

Black Sails

Another Way - Silverflint, E, 29,399 words, complete. Dubcon! But in a very old-school fanfic trope fuck or die way. It diverges from the scene where they get captured taking the warship. They do work through everything in the aftermath, and the end is very sweet actually.

By Faith of my Body - Silverflintmadi in various combinations, but emphasis on the flintmadi relationship. E, Chapter 1/4 posted. Flint and Madi bond over books, the weight of leadership, and being in love with John Silver. FealtySub!Flint, shameless use of literature for my own nefarious purposes, and so much pining.

Another Troy to Burn - Series. Silverflint longfic series, my special precious baby and literally the first thing I ever wrote. It's canon where they're fucking the whole time but it doesn't change anything. There is a moodboard (thanks @jaynovz) and also a playlist.

A Composite Unity - E, 20,366 words, complete. The first two seasons, Flint pov. He is not having a great time.

The Salt and the Sea - E, 60,495 words, complete. Set during the season 2-3 break, how Silver decided to stay and what happened with the gold. He is also not having a great time.

It Only Made Me Real- E, chapters 4/? posted. Silver adjusting to his role as quartermaster, Flint being Flint during the raids. I swear upon everything holy that I WILL finish this series if its the last thing I do, but, it has been on hiatus for a while.

If It Was You - Silverflint, E, 17,430 words, complete. Free use gangbang porn that got out of control and also grew a lot of feelings. The boys spend the night in port on a mission. There is only one bed. Flint freaks out and makes questionable choices, Silver walks in on the whole thing, they have to work through it. Cathartic happy ending. The very Most dirty talk.

I'll Carry You Home Tonight - Silverflint, E, 6,604 words, complete. This one is just porn. Season 3-4 break, the guys are newly in a relationship, they get Pirate Date Night. It's working title was 'impact play and 5 phases of ass stuff'.

long as amber of ember glows - Silverflint, E, 7,933 words, complete. If 3.10 ended the way it should have. There are love confessions, and they fuck on the gold. No literally, on it. It's very sweet honestly.

Our Feast is But Beginning - Series. Silverflint Cookingverse! Flint teaches Silver to cook.

Spit-Roasted - M, 5,821 words, complete. The one where Flint shows Silver how to roast a pig. It's canon! Flint is very weird about sex.

Gentille Alouette - E, 11,618 words, complete. Late night cooking dates on the Walrus, continuing intense sexual tension, Flint is basically edging himself. He sure is a way.

Princes of the New World - E, 38,145 words, complete. This one got a little out of hand, it has many things in it, including lots of hurt comfort and caretaking, the guys finally getting together and also not hiding their relationship, some intense gender vibes (Silver gets to be a pampered pretty princess) and yes, even some cooking.

Our Shadows That Are Bold - Silverflint, E, 4,912 words, complete. Dom Silver. The first little iteration of fealty sub Flint, he sure has some feelings about Silver coming into his own as king.

So We Begin - Silverflint, E, 4,038 words, complete. 3.7 missing scene fic that is exactly what you would expect after stomp stomp and the "how good it feels" conversation.

The Soft Animal of Your Body - Silverflint, E, 3,398 words, complete. The watersports one. Yep sure is, omorashi style, with a good side of hurt comfort stuff and also Flint telling a weird dirty story. Set during warship recovery time. This is basically an outtake of longfic because it doesn't quite work there but wouldn't leave my brain.

the sound that you found for me - T, background silverflintmadi, but its really about Silver and Betsy the cat. Yep. 5,699 words, complete. Kittenfic!! Written for the Beach Blanket Black Sails Ficfest, the prompt was 'Betsy has kittens and Silver wants to keep them on Maroon Island.' It's really about Silver and trauma and there are sad parts but nothing bad happens to any cats and there is a happy ending.

stitched with its color - G, silverflintmadi sort of, 1,344 words, complete. The conversation where Madi tells Flint that Silver is alive.

Such Terrible Hungers - E, Flintvane, 3,357 words, complete. Instead of fuck buddies, they're fuck enemies. Fight sex and Flint angst, that's basically the fic.

to pull me from myself again - E, Silverflint, 7,419 words, complete. Written in response to a Tumblr prompt asking for s1 dynamics softe silverflint, Silver's first time with a man. That is indeed it, that's the fic

What Lies Beneath - E, Silverflint, 3 chapters, complete. 11,031 words. Demon Flint AU! Basically make the demon in Flint literal. Silver is fascinated of course.

The Fetch Phillips Archives (aka Luke Arnold's books, go read them!)

announcing your place in the family of things - E, Fetch/Satyr, 6,865 words, complete. The first creature Fetch meets when he leaves the human city is that unnamed Satyr, and that feels like a conscious choice to me. Coulda said 'faun' and we wouldn't be here Luke. Anyway monsterfucking, but in a lovely way.

The Exorcist (tv)

The Smoke of Their Torment - M, Marcus/Tomas, 572 words, complete. A snippet of Marcus angst and pining and also jerking off in a shared hotel room there may be more someday.

#for a long time i kept whatever was most recent or relevant pinned #but now i realized how much there is #so #here's the masterlist #fanfic #my writing #silverflint #black sails #fetch phillip archives #sunderverse #the exorcist tv

[romione-trope-fest]

Title: There Was Only One Git

Author: Nena-96

Selected Trope: Cockblocker Harry, Muggle AU and There Was Only One Bed

Brief Summary: After a failed movie night, Ron takes Hermione to bed, however they have an unexpected git- I mean guest enter their bedroom.

Rating: M

Word Count: 2,866

Any relevant trigger warnings: None

The television was playing, yet only one of the three occupants sitting on the sofa were actually watching the opening credits of the movie. Ron was squished in the middle as Hermione and Harry had him trapped in the center of the sofa. It hadn’t even been a few minutes and yet, he lost feeling in his arms. The numbness had become persistent and soon enough, Ron would feel a sharp pain that would rocket up his arms and into his shoulders.

What a night.

Ron sighed slowly, as he felt Hermione snuggled closer to his side, while Harry snored loudly into his ear. Perfect, it was just another typical Saturday night and instead of watching a movie with his girlfriend and his best mate, he was being used as a pillow. Well, he guessed it could be worse, at least he wasn’t stuck at the office working through piles of paperwork. Then again, he didn’t have a bespectacled git channeling his inner walrus and snoring into his ear at work. Ron shook his head as he tried to untangle himself from the two people he loves the most, but each time they just snuggled further onto him.

With a sigh of frustration, Ron closed his eyes and counted to ten before gently nudging Hermione’s head away, “Hermione… love, wake up.” However, this only caused her to whimper and wrinkle her nose. Which would have been adorable, if he wasn’t feeling the tell tale burning sensation of his arms that were stretched out for far too long.

Damn it, he thought to himself, shaking his head he turned slightly to the left, towards Harry. Instead of the gentle manner he bestowed upon his loving girlfriend. Ron mustered up all his strength and nudged Harry forcefully away from him. Which caused said git, to lose his glasses as he went tumbling onto the pillows beside him. Funny enough, Harry remained asleep, aside from the low unintelligible muttering he let out.

“Fuck,” Ron winced, as he slowly moved his now free arm in small circles. You’d think from all the times that he was in this predicament, he would be used to it by now, well that’s completely wrong.

After a couple of minutes of trying to get feeling back into his arm, Ron turned his attention back to Hermione. He touched her cheek gently, but she would just nuzzle her face into the crook of his neck. Closing his eyes, Ron tried to ignore the way the tiny puffs of air that slipped from Hermione’s lips and managed to tickle his skin. This simple act caused his trousers to become tight instantly.

“Calm down, Ronnie..now is definitely not the time,” Ron muttered to himself. It was obvious that Hermione wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon, which made him slowly untangle himself from her embrace and get up from the sofa. After rubbing the pain away from his arms, Ron wondered if he should just cover Hermione with a blanket and call it a day.

However, he quickly shot down that option because Hermione would just complain about the back pain that would cause her in the morning. So that was out of the question, Ron decided he’d be a gentleman and carry Hermione to the guest room. To sleep of course, but if along the way she wakes up, well… he wouldn’t mind having a late night talk, if you get what he’s throwing down. As long as she’s up for it, that is, he’d never force her to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.

Before he picked up his girlfriend, Ron grabbed the remote from the coffee table and powered off the telly. He carelessly tossed the remote back onto the table, and grimaced at the way the battery cover flew off. As he watched the double A’s roll onto the hardwood floor and besides Crookshanks furry ginger tail. Oh well, he could pick it up tomorrow, Ron thought to himself, crouching down, he proceeded to shake Harry’s shoulder, “Mate-”

Instead of a sleepy response from the unruly haired man, Ron was startled by an ungodly loud snore. It reminded him of the mating call of a walrus from one of those animal documentaries that Seamus would always watch. Yeah, his mate was a bit of a strange fella, but there’s never a dull moment with that bloke.

“Alright, then.. Have a nice rest, sleeping beauty,” another snore was his response, Ron rolled his eyes and went to Hermione. With a gentle ease he removed the pillow she was holding and moved it to the side. Then, Ron slid his arm underneath her and carried her bridal style off the sofa. After giving her a soft kiss on her temple, and basking in her beautiful perfume, Armortenia #9, it was a very unusual perfume. As he carried Hermione, he thought back on that fateful day a couple of years ago he had entered a small little perfume shop in search of a perfect gift for his friend.

Ron had barely managed to contain his excitement, just moments after the cashier had handed him the perfume in a small gift box. He had sprinted out of the shop and all the way to the bus stop, he just had to give Hermione the perfume. After a half hour bus ride, and a short walk around the block of a gated neighborhood, Ron had found himself knocking on the door of Hermione’s childhood home. It was quite the day, Ron thought to himself, after he gave the perfume to Hermione she had sprayed a generous amount onto her wrist. That moment had opened his eyes, after smelling the berries and vanilla, and seeing her brown eyes brighten with adoration. Ron promised himself he would one day find the courage to ask her to be his girlfriend.

Sadly, it had taken both of them quite some time to talk about their feelings together, but it was better late than never. It was all worth it in the end, although he wouldn’t mind it one bit if one day Hermione were to be his wife. That was, if she wanted to marry him, because in his mind there’s no one he would be able to love if it wasn’t Hermione.

Ron felt Hermione’s arms wrap around his neck, the feeling of her arms around him caused his mind to go blank for a bit. It was the effect she had on him, at times he wondered if this was really real or if life was just playing a cruel joke. Just waiting to take away everything he loves, but deep down he knew that she was not leaving his side, it’s a promise that they both made to one another.

“Mhm, Ron,” Hermione muttered, making him realize he has yet to climb the steps that lead up to the guest bedroom. “Shit,” Ron muttered, he had almost forgotten the guest room was all the way on the second floor. On any other day he’d be fine with carrying his girlfriend to the guest room, but he was so tired and needed sleep. Hopefully, Hermione wouldn’t mind sleeping in his room tonight. Hell, Ron would sleep on the floor if it meant letting her have a peaceful night. He knew how much the work week was taking a toll on his girlfriend, even if shedidn’t want to admit that to him. Ron shook his head and walked towards the direction of his room, which was only a few doors down.

Soon enough they were inside his room, it didn’t take him long to open the door since it wasn’t the first time he carried Hermione to bed. Although, it was the first time he brought her to his room, but that’s because he wasn’t sure she’d want to stay the night. Even though she always hinted at sleeping in his bed. It must’ve been just because she didn’t want to walk all the way to the guest room, not that she wanted to stay with him. Honestly, birds think us blokes don’t understand their minds… well unless you're Seamus, then you definitely don’t have a clue. Luckily, he wasn’t Seamus, he knew exactly how to be a gentleman-

“Are you just going to carry me, or lay me down?” Hermione spoke, which startled him so much he almost dropped her. He whipped his head towards her face, that was mere inches from his own as he stared into her soft caramel eyes. Ron noticed how Hermione was trying hard to keep herself from laughing. His mouth fell open, as he realized the little minx was never asleep. Well, she was asleep on the sofa, but she must’ve woken up while he was carrying her.

“Hermione-”

“Yes, that’s my name. Now can you lay me down on your bed? Or, do I have to do it myself?” Hermione said primly. Shaking his head, Ron pretended like he was going to drop her onto the bed and chuckled as she hit him lightly on the shoulder. “You, arse… that wasn’t funny,” Hermione huffed.

“Hermione, you scarlet woman… why are you speaking about my arse, does your mum know you spea-” before he was able to finish. Hermione brought his face down to hers and silenced him with a passionate snog. “Oi…. not… that I’m not enjoying this,” Ron said in between kisses, “… weren’t you sleeping?”

Instead of a reply, Ron felt Hermione grip his hair, while her other hand began to trail up and down his chest. Quickly the room was filled with soft sighs and moans, as each kiss he felt against his lips, drew him closer to a delirious state of euphoria.

“I was… I just… but now I’m not,” Hermione managed to say after pulling away from his swollen lips. He felt her lips inches away from his, as he slowly opened his eyes and looked at her. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know this, right?”

Instead of over reply, he felt her hand slowly move down his body, and proceeded to gently caress him over his shorts. “That makes two of us,” she whispered before kissing him again, this time it was much harder than before. The urgency of the way she was kissing him, combined with the way she was squeezing him lightly felt like heaven. “Hermione… please,” he moaned against her soft lips, while trailing his hand up her thigh until his hand disappeared underneath her nightdress.

The moment he felt her lace touch his fingers he stopped kissing her and groaned into her neck, “Damnit, Hermione you’re making it hard-”

“Oh, I’m fully aware how hard I'm making you, thank you very much,” Hermione teased while pressing against him, the soft moan that fell from her mouth was driving him mad. Ever so slowly he began pulling down her knickers, while Hermione began nibbling on his ear. He gritted his teeth when he felt her bite down on his ear lobe, at the same time he took off her knickers.

“Ron, I need you… please-”

Before Ron could reply with a witty response, the door was suddenly pushed open, and Harry was standing near the bed. This shocked both Ron and Hermione, as they quickly covered themselves with the comforter. Thankfully, they were fully clothed but still, Ron didn’t want anyone to see Hermione like this.

“Harry what are you-” Ron began, only to be interrupted by a snore from his best mate. Which made him think if Harry was still sleeping.

“You know what I need… some sleep…” Harry said groggily, then proceeded to join them in the bed. Ron looked at Hermione, he wasn’t surprised that her face was red in embarrassment. “Is he sleeping?” She whispered to him, before looking back at the unruly-haired git that was now drooling all over his pillow.

Shaking his head, Ron moved away from Hermione and went to shake Harry awake, “Ron, you can’t force someone awake that will disorient them,” Hermione whispered. He turned and gave her an incredulous look, “Well I’m not letting this git, stay in my bed-”

“Shh, just come here.. maybe we should just sleep,” Hermione whispered back, as she gestured to him to come back to her side. Ron sighed, before crawling back over to his girlfriend and wrapping his arm around her, and kissing her on the cheek. He pulled her closer to him, “Ron, stop it,” he heard Hermione mumble, he didn’t know why if he wasn’t doing anything, thanks to Harry. “What, did I do?” He whispered into her ear as he involuntarily brought her closer to him, which caused her bum to press against his bulge. “Don’t give me that, you’re pressing your… your bits against me,” Hermione gritted out, as she attempted to keep her cheeks from burning.

“Shit, I’m sorry I wasn’t doing it on purpose,” Ron said honestly, “you’re the one that keeps pressing into me.” He groaned, before looking over at the git that was now nuzzling his face against the pillow like Crookshanks when he wanted an extra snack from the tin.

Glancing back down at Hermione, he tried to adjust himself, but the sense of getting caught only riled him up even more. It didn’t help that Hermione was pressing so tightly against him, it was almost as if she was even more turned on then him. Even if she was still in the mood, Ron wasn’t an idiot ... .well he was at times. But he wasn’t a dumbass to try and get frisky with his girlfriend while his best mate was in the same bed as them. Talk about, only one bed… bloody hell this was like a trope to a bad romantic comedy that Hermione would always watch on the Hallmark channel. Ron shook his head as he wondered what the hell did he do to deserve this.

Just as he was about to tell Hermione to budge up a bit, Harry began talking, “Lilies…. Bloodied… scattered around the floorboards… Halloween… night…” they both turned to Harry, his green eyes held a crazed look. Neither, Hermione or himself knew how to respond, they simply watched as Harry fell back against the pillow with his eyes open.

“What the fuck? Did he say lilies, and Halloween?” Ron said, confusion etched across his freckled face. “Maybe, it’s a nightmare… remember you said he had a lot of nightmare-”

“Ugh… yes..f-fuck.. fuck…”

Oh hell no.

Ron and Hermione stared, mouth wide open as they watched Harry start slowly thrusting, before picking up speed, rather quickly. Hermione clasped a hand to her mouth, and Ron felt his blood turn cold when Harry began moaning a name. A name he never wanted to hear pronounce in such way in his entire fucking life. That git, his best mate of over ten years was moaning his sister’s name.

“G-Ginny… missed you…so good, so…ti-”

Ron saw red as he quickly grabbed a pillow and was about to hit Harry in the back of his head, “No, Ron, you can’t force him awake… ,he’ll get disoriented,” Hermione struggled to say as she tried to hold him back. “Fuck that! Harry’s dream shagging my sister!” Ron growled before looking back at his so-called best mate, who was now pumping his hips harder than before.

“Dream shagging?” Hermione repeated in confusion. Ron let out a strangled noise of frustration, “Yes, Hermione. Dream shag, that wanker,” Ron said as he pointed the pillow at Harry, “is shagging my sister in his fucking dream.

Everyone knows what a dream shag is, hell… I’ve had loads of them before we-” he stopped himself once he saw the look on his girlfriend’s face. He watched as her brown eyes darkened, and her lips drew into a fine line. It scared him, because at this moment she reminded him of his professor, McGonagall. With that image in his mind, he felt a shiver run through him, and it was definitely not in a good way.

“Oh. Please, enlighten me with the women whom you’ve “dreamt of shagging”.. if you’re ever so kind.” Hermione said with faux interest, a glimmer of jealousy ignited in her eyes. “That’s.. besides the point… not even.. relevant-”

“So… close.. G-”

“NO! Keep your pecker away from Ginny! You bloody wanker!” Ron roared out before quickly grabbing Harry, and pushed him off the bed with such force a few photographs fell from the walls of his bedroom.

“Ow, fuck,” Harry got up slowly and rubbed his head in pain, “Ron… Hermione, what are you doing in my room?” Harry said as he squinted to try and see his best mates. “This isn’t your room,” Ron managed to say calmly before opening the door and leading Harry out the room. “Oh, sorry mate.. I must’ve thought this was my room, my glasses… they’re um.. downstairs,” Harry apologized before walking out the room.

Ron tried to even his breathing as he closed the door and locked it. He turned around and looked at Hermione who had her arms crossed over, “who did you dream about?” She asked, while raising an eyebrow at him.

#submission #romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #harry potter

[noknowshame]

convinced that cooking on the walrus was the first time silver ever had to cut an onion and he genuinely thought he was dying when it started to burn his eyes. flint of course saw this happening at a distance and chose to just let it run its course

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

WIP Weekend

Weekly WIP update:

In the midst of writing the epilogue to Possession and thrilled to announce that I hit 100k words total earlier today. That will make Possession my first fic to crack that mark. Did I really write all of that? Incredible! 😳

Omega!Eddie is nearing the finish line as well (currently writing the final scene) and will start posting of 4 April (keep your eyes peeled for the official preview!) 👀

Chapter 1 of The King's Gift is also nearing completion. @house-of-the-moving-image and I will iron out a launch date that works with both of our private and work lifes soon, so stay tuned. 💖

Send me an emoji and I'll write and share three sentences from that fic.

🦇Possession 🔥I burn for you (you burn for me) [omega!Eddie] 🏰The King's Gift

Snippet from 🏰

“Oh,” Eddie says, perking up in his window seat. “You said you were touring different castles or something! So that makes you a prince or a noble at least, right? Part of a royal entourage? Oh, wait, are you some sort of knight or paladin? A warlock?” 

“Um …” Steve says intelligently. His head is starting to hurt again. This entire conversation feels like he’s talking gibberish at a bunch of crazy people who are only fluent in mumbo jumbo. “Sorry, I dunno what- … I’m a taurus, I think?” 

Eddie’s entire face crinkles with confusion, and Steve feels a red-hot blush erupting from his frilly collar. 

“What my nephew is trying to ask,” Wayne speaks up, and Steve envies the man his patience, he really does, “is if you are trained in some form of combat. Armed, magical, weaponless?” 

Steve can physically feel the confused groove splitting his forehead. Combat? What the fuck? The only thing that springs to mind is that one time he got in a drunken argument with Tommy at one of Heather Holloway’s parties and bashed his nose in on her front lawn, but somehow he doesn’t think that is the question. 

“I was on the swim team,” he provides, voice small. “Basketball, too. Listen, I believe this is some sort of mistake. I dunno who you guys think I am, but I’m not … some sort of knight or a fucking walrus or whatever. I’m just some guy.” 

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #wip ask game #wip weekend

[rescuehumans-runtotherescue]

Dating Dani Burns Headcanons

🚁Dani is a headstrong independent woman. Can’t handle that? Go home! If you’re courting Dani, know she is not secondary, but your equal. She won’t settle for less!

🚁While Dani may be easily riled up, her fiery temper and determination to stand up for what is right is rather admirable.

🚁You can expect a week of slight protective tendencies from Kade and Charlie when you first meet the Burns’, but then everything goes to normal. Dani can certainly handle herself, but that isn’t going to stop her family from being a little cautious until they get to know you a bit. She is the only daughter after all.

🚁As a result from growing up with only brothers, she doesn’t want to be seen as soft. PDA is fine as long as her siblings aren’t around.

🚁Outdoorsy dates are common: Picnics, hikes, flights…

🚁Other dates include watching races together. It becomes a ritual for you two to gather armfuls of snacks and drinks to bring to the couch to watch races.

🚁Imagine trying to distract Dani when she’s trying to watch the race. Throwing popcorn up in the air and trying to catch it in your mouth, putting on a voice and making fun of the announcers, putting the straws of both your drink and hers in your mouth like walrus tusks..

🚁At first she’s annoyed but she breaks down easily and soon you’re both in a fit of laughs.

#Dani burns #Dani x reader headcanons #Dani burns x reader #Dani burns x reader headcanons #tfrb #rescue humans #trb #transformers rescue bots #Dani #rescue humans headcanons #Dani x reader

[jaynovz]

John Silver Recovery and Hurt/Comfort Rec List

Hi there! Another rec list? -surprised Pikachu face-

These deal specifically with Silver’s post-amputation struggles and recovery. Often deep character study, heavy on hurt/comfort, wound care/medical discussion, wrestling with his disability and body image type stuff, so mind the tags on individual works. 

These are all Silverflint because, well, you know why you follow this blog.

--

What It Feels Like Not To Hurt by robotboy

Summary: So. This is a 9k slow burn watersports fic. That's a thing that now exists in this fandom. But it's mostly about Silver recovering in the warship cabin and working out how much of his humanity is tied to humiliation. To echo my esteemed colleague purplecelery: 'I'm gonna gently suggest that anyone who's not usually into this take a gander anyway because you might be surprised.'

The Salt and the Sea by x_etoile_x

Summary: John Silver was always able to make the best of a situation. If this particular situation had started to feel complicated, well, a vast fortune ought to prove clarifying. Whatever he might have imagined he'd seen in Flint, the reality was they had used each other. And he had been set to walk away on top.

Except now he couldn't. Now he was trapped.

_______

The gap between the end of s2 and the start of the raids - Silver's early recovery and eventual decision to stay.

i’m discarding pieces of myself in the dark by coffeeandchemicals

Summary: Silver swallows and fights the urge to run his tongue along his dry, chapped lips. It’s been awhile since they were in the Doldrums, but they were in cages after that, and Silver still feels stretched too thin over his bones. He knows his eyes are shadowed and cheeks are hollow; he can see the same in Flint’s visage, and on the faces of the remaining crew – he can’t let himself think of the ones they’d lost. They all bear more than just the physical scars of their most recent misfortunes. Silver’s are just the most evident.

Or: Flint tries to help Silver during the events of 3x07

His Heart Is Already Mine by queerpyrate

Summary: When Silver collapses aboard the deck of the Walrus, overcome with fever from an infection in his leg, Flint immediately alters their course to return to Maroon Island.

after the winnowing by princesskay

Summary: After Charles Town, Silver convalesces at the governor's mansion in Nassau while Flint chooses what happens to the gold - and their futures. Flint tries to take care of him, but are the kind gestures what they seem?

The Soft Animal of Your Body by x_etoile_x

Summary: Silver has a problem. Flint has an interest, as it turns out, and tells a story.

no daylight between you and i by inwardphae

Summary: What’s it all for, anyway? They’ll take and take and take until there’s nothing left of him. Not his leg, not his name, not his life. And there’s nothing he can do about it.

But then, something happens that surprises him, even in his frantic state, even as he feels his grip on himself slide away. And as it always happens as of late, he finds that the edges of his world begin and end with James Flint.

missing moments during and after charles town

Taut by Thiebes

Summary: Silver did not make it to dinner.

He awoke with a jolt to a dark room. How did he get on the floor? He didn't remember sinking down any more than he remembers falling asleep. The noise outside his door had faded, only a few distant laughs punctuated the sound of crickets in the night.

Let me try to pull you free by ember_firedrake

Summary: Following the loss of his leg, Silver can't stop thinking about the last night he spent with Flint before Charlestown, and what will happen when Flint learns the truth of the gold.

Follows "My heart is under arrest again." 

Set between 2x10 and 3x01.

Forestay by Farasha

Summary: Forestay: A line of rigging which keeps the mast from falling backward.

After Charleston, certain truths come to light that have Flint and Silver's relationship hanging by a thread.

Truce by lostinafictionalworld

Summary: “Would you like me to do it?” Flint offered quietly.

Silver’s head snapped up to glare at him, his usually warm eyes icy. He would have been shocked by the offer if he weren’t so busy being furious.

“I am painfully aware that I can scarcely take a piss without assistance,” he snarled, “but I am perfectly capable of brushing my own hair.”

After returning to Nassau following the events of Charlestown, Silver and Flint manage to set aside their differences for an evening.

vigia by doomcountry

Summary: That’s his talent. That’s what he offers him. That’s what he is, before he is quartermaster or lover or friend: the tempering flame, the relief.

A Holier Thing Than Hell or Highwater by swampslip

Summary: “This is… A difficult thing,” Flint says slowly.

“I’m not saying this to be-”

“I know.”

“I just can’t seem to… Move on.”

“Why should you?”

“What?”

“Why should you move on?” Flint asks quietly, gestures at the pinking, slowly healing end of Silver’s thigh, “This isn’t a moment that will fade into the oblivion of living. You won’t forget this, nor should you.”

--

As always, hit me up if you feel I’ve missed a vital inclusion, and I will give it a read. Mwah.

#I made this for tumblr user tomateblack but I guess everyone else can look too #black sails #silverflint #silverflint fic recs #fic recs #black sails fic recs #john silver #james flint #black sails fanfiction #jay's esoteric rec lists #I used to do notes on these as well but I have far too many things to do these days

[van1lla-v1lla1n]

so violence begets violence (complete!)

charting silver's descent into flint's darkness.

chapter 1: after the burning of Charles Town, an early raid in the colonies, and its aftermath on the Walrus.

chapter 2: an execution, a shark hunt. does Flint foster the violence growing in Silver, or does Silver do that himself?

chapter 3: the aftermath of Silver's ~encounter~ with Dufresne in Nassau.

(some commentary under the cut)

this fic started out as an attempt to branch out into writing something other than smut and turned into still a lot of smut but with some added violence a;lsdfh. but i think violence is interesting fictionally for a lot of the same reasons sexuality is--the ways it sits in the body, how it can serve as an assertion of dominance or reflect certain power dynamics and their complexity, how we've had this longtime notion of violence being infectious. (the term "violence begets violence" has been in use since at least the early 19th-century [which makes the fic title probably anachronistic, but oh well].)

season 3 is imo where silver really starts to individuate from flint--he's become flint's creature in a way, and after his leg is amputated it's like he dives into the abjection of his disability and of being flint's creature and of piracy in general, and at the same time he's also very aware of how all this could kill him even as he's dependent on it to survive.

so this fic is a look at all that, and also a consideration of how silver made himself into someone who could embrace the darkness he saw in flint; and how flint might have felt about it all. I really think flint would've wanted some of the credit for making silver into Long John Silver(tm). it's undeniable that silver is becoming like flint--but i think the answer of who made him that way would very much depend on whether you asked flint or silver.

all my roads lead to Cornelius Hickey: "survival is a nasty piece of business." I think Flint would've murdered Hickey for mutiny crimes, but I think Silver would've studied him in a lab.

#black sails #i wrote this #silverflint #rated e

[newtonsheffield]

Can we see more of Neddy and Anthony together in the Mob Au?

Okay but imagine Anthony picking up Neddy for his first visit, knowing that Kate’s going to follow behind him with Edwina in case there’s any trouble, or Neddy just wants to go home. And it’s fair, he supposes, after all: He’s got Benedict pretending to be his driver.

Imagine how nervous he’d be when Neddy looks up at him and murmurs something in rapid Tamil to Kate who nods, crouching in front of her son, running her fingers through his hair.

“Of course, sweetheart. And Mummy loves you, remember.”

“Love you, Mummy.” Neddy said, kissing her cheek before he turned back to Anthony, holding out his hand for Anthony to take. “I’m not allowed to go out without holding someone’s hand. Either my Mummy’s or Auntie Eddie’s or my Gramma Mary. Sometimes my Sophie.”

Anthony has absolutely know idea who his Sophie is but he nods, his hand shaking as he takes his son’s hand for the very first time. “I can- I can hold your hand, Edmund.”

“No one calls me that.” Neddy said curiously as he clambered into the back of the car, Anthony scurrying in after him. “I’m Neddy.”

“Sorry,” Anthony cleared his throat, his cheeks burning.

“That’s okay. You’re new at being a Daddy, my Mummy said.”

“Yes.” Anthony nodded, still holding Edmund’s hand, his heart hammering in his chest as he looked at the tiny boy he already loved. “I’m new at being a Daddy. But I used to love going for ice cream with my Dad when I was your age: and I thought we could do that.”

Neddy’s face lit up, “Yes! I love ice cream!”

“Great, me too.”

He sat with his son all afternoon, holding his hand at the ice cream parlor, hardly feeling guilty for the fact Neddy had somehow managed to get him to buy him three scoops.

“And I’m the best at reading in my whole class.”

“You like reading?” Anthony stared at him, hardly able to get enough.

“Yeah! I love reading stories.”

“Do you have a Favourite book?”

Neddy nodded, ice cream all over his face, “It’s called Woof! And it’s about a boy who turns into a dog.”

And the smile nearly slides right off his face. Because Kate had told him once that that was her Favourite book as a child. And they’re so alike, he nearly bursts into tears.

“That sounds like a great book. What else do you like?”

“I like going to the movies. And playing football, and sometimes My Poppy Tharman used to take me before he died.”

“Maybe-“ Anthony cleared his throat, “Maybe I could take you to the movies, and I go to the football with my brothers, you could come with us if you like.”

Neddy stared up at him a little apprehensive, “So you- You want me to be your boy now? Like a real Daddy? Like… you’ll take me out with your family and stuff, and like… tell people I’m your boy?”

Anthony’s heart stopped, the guilt rising in his chest again, “I- Of course I want you to be my son, Neddy. I’m really sorry that I had to go away but I’m back now, and I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Neddy stared back at him, his little feet dangling over the bench, “could we go this weekend?”

“To the-? To the football?” Anthony stammered.

“Yeah. With my- with my uncles.”

“We can absolutely go.” Anthony grinned, relief washing over him. “As long as Mummy says yes. You can come with uncle Ben and Me.”

“Great! I’ve never had an uncle before, only Auntie Eddie.”

Anthony eyed the woman standing six feet behind them, glaring angrily at him. “Is Auntie Eddie… is she very scary always?”

Neddy giggled, the sound making his heart flutter, “Auntie Eddie’s not scary.” Anthony was sure quite a few people would disagree, she had a reputation even in his circle, “She makes walrus teeth sometimes!”

“Well, that sounds great.”

“It is! It’s great.”

“Yeah, it’s great.” But Anthony wasn’t talking about Edwina.

#hard time au #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

[o-craven-canto]

What if humans had never discovered fire? Could there ever have been a complex, literate, technological civilization if we’d never learned how to rub two sticks together? I think it can be imagined. Our fireless society would have to exist somewhere in the far north, somewhere without too much dry vegetation. Slopes of black soil fuzzed in dense, sodden moss, glaciers that roll perilously over the peaks, reindeer nuzzling the muck, seals groaning on swept-out floes. Between the mountains and the sea, a bubbling volcanic lake, and a city on its shores: huts, sealskin stretched over whale-ribs, temples and palaces in jagged blocks of stone. Hunters set out in walrus-skin canoes with stone harpoons; when they return the meat is carved, thrown into nets, and lowered into the lake to boil. Elsewhere, there are farmers, blubber-slathered, who tend to the forests of kelp. Fish are bred in shallow pools; every year the water foams with roe, and ledges heave long fillets curing for the winter. Nobody goes cold at night, as the geothermal waters are carried into every home. These people are master plumbers by necessity. Their epics and legends are about pipes and channels; instead of hearth-gods, they have the spirits of the soapstone radiator. Maybe saunas, hot and cold showers; maybe a hydraulic messaging system, with letters scratched in pumice. The great library is an ossuary: endless racks of antlers and whale-skulls, crowded with scrimshaw to record the deeds of gods and kings. The librarian gets her daily ration of sous-vide seal and salty kelp-porridge. She knows only about books and doesn’t think too much about where her food comes from. But the nights are long up here. How can she read without a candle? Well, the intestinal tracts of polar squid are full of bioluminescent bacteria. Leave a fresh squid in cold water for a few days and it will begin to glow. In the long, dark winter, the streets are lit by bowls of phosphorescent slime, steadily burning an unearthly blue. And above them, the aurora shines in long, lonely squid-gut strands . . .

-- Sam Kriss, Infinite Hitlers [an essay on alternate history], 2021

(I love everything about this scenario, but geothermal cooking sounds far too spotty to be useful on civilization-building scale, and I'm doubtful that you could feed a human-like brain only on the raw food that human teeth and intestines can process; our use of fire for cooking stretches much further back than the latest wave of development of our brain cortex)

#alternate history #human evolution #aesthetics #i know it's besides the points of the essay #but still #stuff i like

[aviculor]

When you think about it, the fairy vs walrus thought experiment is just Steamed Hams. Is it more implausible that A) the Skinners hail from Albany, NY where hamburgers are called "steamed hams" and they have an old family recipe that is similar to Krusty Burgers and aurora borealis can happen in this time of year in this time of day in this part of the country localized entirely within a kitchen, or that B) Skinner is feeding you fast food disguised as his own cooking while his house is burning down with both of you inside and he's calmly making dinner conversation instead of doing anything about it?

[quaranmine]

Hi yeah its me again, sorry for the spam, not my fault you made cool and inspiring stuff. This time actually, i couldnt help myself and have made a short crackpodfic of an alternative universe which is basically 'AU where Mumbo is frolicking in the wild and Grian doesnt exist cause itd be too sad for him to do so, so hes gone.' Its stupid, ist badly written (literally my first ever creative writing work other than a 300 word school asignment) but like idk. if you dont want to or cant read it (cause its so bad and burns your eyes out) you can just not read it xd idc honestly but decided to maybe give you the choice of reading it or not. Excuse my weird and unusual ways of writing dialougue and monolouges This is part 1 of 3

Jellie meowed cutely, demanding for food most likely just as a familar figure walked into his cabin. —Oh Hello Cub! It's wonderful to see you again! How was the trail, you're earlier than usual, no? — Scar exclaimed happily, looking at the sweaty man now standing before him. The air was hot, the many glass windows of the watchtower could make a great greenhouse. The open windows allowed for a warm flow of the early summer's air to pass by and refresh the mostly closed space. —Hey hey. Yeah the traffic was better than usual, but there was more sand in on the trail today. I think it could be the Sahara desert dust that was supposed to get carried in with the wind. — Cub said, taking his backpack off and pulling out a rag to wipe his head off. No matter how many times he hikes through this trail it never gets much easier. — Oh, Cub. The Sahara desert was blowing on Europe! And also it's the 80s and this specific situation you're referencing is gonna happen in late March of the year 2024! That's at least 35 years into the future! —Oh yup I forgot. Sorki bout that —Cub, you silly silly man! — Scar said in a singsong tone. Both of them started laughing and looked straight into the readers eyes, smiling.  Hi reader they both thought and went back to laughing looking at each other. — Actually, Scar, while hiking I heard some tourists talking about some newfound cryptid roaming these parts, what's up with that? – Eh nothing special, some bikers saw a 'humanoid lanky bugman' or something. — The man said — I've seen it all over, people come, they see a black bear or a deer in the shadow and think it's a newfound species. But honestly! I gotta give credit to the bikers relating said encounter cause the guys were better than most at storytelling! The missing food cans, rustling in the bushes all around them, the feeling of being watched.. Truly creepy stuff! And then — Scar took in a breath, talking so much in one long exhale left him almost dizzy —the moment when they saw it fully...They described it as 'particularly lanky with black fur' and something about purple-pinkish fingertips as well as residue on its paleish naked face with a weirdly shaped snout. 'Like a Walrus' they said! A crazy comparison for a bear, but you know, human mind can do wonders! — Scar clapped at the last statement and closed his eyes smiling charmingly at his companion who was now drinking the rest of his water.. After a while, comfortable silence filled the watchtower as both of the men enjoyed eachothers company. Jellie was now purring against scars leg and promptly jumped on his lap demanding more pets as Cub had finally spoken up — Any new paintings done in the meantime? I don't recognise these two, are they new or recycled? — He asked, curiosity clear in his voice, lookin at the, indeed, two new paintings decorating the cabin. One of them depicting a landscape with a sunset. From where Cub was sitting, he could watch the same, now hidden under an overcast, mountains and trees. The other painting was of a group of three tufted titmice sitting on a branch. Cub took out his American bird field guy and read a couple of paragraphs to scar on what kind of bird has he drawn exactly. It's weird that he saw these birds cause apparently they don't live in that part of the US! Crazy.

HELPPPPP this is completely insane the best way, thank you. Love that Grian doesn't exist here because it'd be too sad for him. Love the fever-dream quality to the writing. In all the best ways you're taking me back to the crack fics I'd read on ff.net in 2013, it's great. Love the breaking the fourth wall abou the Sahara dust and the (assuming) European birds. You've got a certain hint of Douglas Adams flavoring happening with the switching to an "above" perspective for a moment to give a wry little fourth-wall comment.

Mumbo Jumbo, new forest cryptid. I can see it. If Hermitcraft!Mumbo eats redstone, do you think forest cryptid!Mumbo would eat like...rocks??? dlfjskfljslkfs

#i was ignoring this on purpose i promise i just wanted to sit down to read + respond #this was very funny thank you #hc_firewatch_au #quara asks #ngl your writing here reminds me a bit of my first chapter draft of my hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy au #wherein (former) ceo mumbo of boatem says something about 'work from home being the future' #before essentially remembering none of them work from home because. well. it's boatem.