#shore fishing for bass

[betweenapitchandacast]

These Baits Will Land You Fall Bass

Fishing changes just like the seasons. Don't miss out on this list of must-have bass baits!

Sometimes, it can be challenging for anglers to catch fish when the weather shifts from Summer to Fall. Changes in barometric pressure can make fish swim to different depths, and when a cold front comes in, you might not catch any fish at all. Although the weather and temperatures can be quite unpredictable, there are certain techniques that can enhance your chances of landing a sizable…

View On WordPress

#baitfish #barometric pressure #bass #black backs baits #charteuse bass baits #cold fronts #crankbait #docks #fall bass fishing #fishing #fishing in murky waters #how to land fall bass #jerkbait #largemouth bass #pumpkin green #shore fishing #smallmouth bass #spotted bass #swimbait #topwater frogs #weed lines #white curly tails

[the-froschamethyst4]

God of War and Goddess of Peace

𖤐Pairing: God! Alex x Goddess! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐AN: I'm writing this base off my own story, I don't have time to search up God and Goddess' stories so I'm creating my own story

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, ancient Greece, P in V, badly translated Greek, teasing, kissing/making out, eating out, hair pulling, some praising, mention of nudity,

𖤐Summary: The God of War, may be hard, dark, broody, and heartless, he grew a soft spot for the Goddess of Peace

————

————

Alex, the God of war sat against a large oak tree, sharpening a long stick into a spare, he looks at the small river and watched fish jump out of the water and landing back in the water.

He gets up and stood at the edge of the river but moved in, standing still and moving around only when a fish got close. A bass was close and he stabs the wooden spare in the fish, he pulls the fish out, still wiggling on the stick, he laughs before walking back onto land.

Putting the fish aside, Alex started to make a fire as the fish slowly dies.

"I hate when you do that," Alex looks at the tree that he was leaning against as saw the Goddess of Peace looking down at him.

"I have to survive," he says as she jumps off the tree branch. Her hands go to his shoulders and running her hands up his neck and then holding his face.

"I know, η καρδιά μου (my heart)..." she smiles at him.

These two are polar opposites but Alex the God of War starting over 50 different wars, has a soft spot for Y/n the Goddess of Peace.

"Must you look at me with those eyes?"

"What eyes?" She teases him, moving her hands from his cheeks down to his toned chest.

"You know," his hands were now moving from her hips, he starts moving downwards on his knees, his hands guiding over her silk dress.

"Alex?" He lifts the bottom of dress and starts licking between her wet folds. She moans as she then is lifted by her thighs and her back hit against the oak tree. His strong arms holding her up. Her thighs wanted to close around his head.

She moans gripping his hair, earning some groans from him. Alex then moved her from the tree to the ground, he starts to remove her silk dress as he was removing his own toga.

"Fuck," he says as he starts putting his left arm over her shoulder, he bends down and starts kissing her neck, she lets out a soft moan, her arms were around his neck and softly moaning.

Her eyes look at the beautiful flowers but then her focus was back on Alex pleasuring her. Her head went back and his hand held the back of her head to not hurt herself.

"You're doing so good," he says, kissing her neck and then kissing her lips. She was whining and moaning as Alex was sloppily thrusting into her.

"AH!" Y/n moans loudly as she felt him hit her spot.

Alex and Y/n try to have sex as much as they could together, the Gods don't like it when them two get together, they always come to this spot and have their alone time, none of the Gods know about this spot.

When in front of the Gods they both act like they are strangers but in reality they might've just fucked before showing to see the Gods and Goddess'.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Alex moans as Y/n moans, he picks up the pace and the sound of sloppy sounds fill both of their ears and then Alex did one more hard thrust and watched as Y/n's head went back and her fingernails digging into his hard and buff shoulders.

Alex felt himself come inside of her, she moans and felt come leak from her lower half. Alex sat on his knees and looks down at Y/n, her body was sweaty and her hair had some sticks and flowers in her hair.

"Come on, αγάπη μου (my love)." He helps her up and took her to the river. She dips in and lets the cold water hit her skin, she lets out a satisfied moan. Alex let her clean up as he fixed them lunch.

Y/n swims in the river, going under water and Alex watched her from shore as he roasts the bass. She pops her head from waters surface and he could only see her eyes and top of her head.

He leans back and smirks as she slowly starts to move out of the water and walk towards Alex. He smiles and his hands went to her waist as she slowly sits on his lap.

"You're so fucking υπέροχος (gorgeous)," he tells her. He kisses her neck, her hands in his hair again. She moans a few times as his hands roamed all over her body.

Her eyes explored the woods as Alex just kissed her, sucking on her soft skin.

"The fish is done," he says as she turns and looks at the fish. "I know how you like your side, not too burnt like how I like it," he smiles at Y/n.

"Thank you," she says, kissing his lips.

-----------

As they were done eating, Alex and Y/n laid on the grass. He holds her against his chest as the sun was going down, his arms around her shoulders as he was lazily thrusting into her. She would mewl every now and then.

"I'm trying to be easy," he says.

"I-It's okay," she stutters. Alex then sits up, bring her leg to his shoulder and the other resting her hip (her side of her ass cheek). His thrusts were sloppy and lazy but he was pleasuring Y/n not himself, not right now anyways.

He watches as she covers her mouth with the back of her hand, moaning and then her hand grips his wrist that rested on her hips.

"Fuck, αγάπη μου (my love)." He groans out.

"Alex," she moans, her hand going to his lower stomach as he picks up the pace. He could tell she was close to coming soon. He picks up the pace once again and then he watched as white liquid spilled out of her. Y/n's body goes a bit limp and Alex pulls out watching her catch her breath.

She brings her hand to the back of his neck pulling him down and kissing his lips.

-----------

Darkest filled the sky and Alex and Y/n laid on the ground together, naked, the silk of their clothes drape over them as a blanket. Y/n's hand went to his chest as she was trying to sleep, Alex's hands rub her side as he looked at the sky, looking at the stars.

"O'Ryan, is out," Alex says, pointing to the sky. Y/n opened her eyes and saw the star sign.

"Lovely as ever," she says.

"More lovely than me?" He asks.

"Never," she snuggles into his side.

------------

Y/n walks around Mount Olympus with Persephone, they talk, mainly about Persephone's life with Hades in the underworld, unpopular opinion is that Persephone's life has never been better since Hades.

Y/n has confessed to Persephone that her and Alex have sex without the Gods knowing and Persephone was very good at keeping secrets and have never told anyone not even her Husband.

"Did you two do it again?" Persephone asked, she placed her hands on Y/n's shoulders.

"Yeah," she acted shy around Persephone.

"Was it good?" She asked.

"As always," Y/n said.

"Did you two do it in the woods again?"

"It's the only place we can do it," she says. Persephone opened the door to the regal palace of Mount Olympus. Y/n's eyes were met with Alex's.

He stood next to Hades in his black silks as Hades was matching him. Alex looks at Y/n and smirks, Hades walks to his wife and pulled her away from Y/n.

Y/n goes to Alex's.

"Hi."

"Hello," he says, placing his hand on her waist.

"Alex," she steps back from him. He forgot, she just stood next to him, as the Gods were talking.

"Did you have fun?" He asked her, leaning down to her ear. She just nods. "You can talk, αγάπη μου (my love)."

"I know..." she says.

"Did you tell Persephone?" He asked.

"Yeah...we're friends," she tells him.

"And she won't say anything?"

"Nothing," Y/n says.

-------------

Alex pulls Y/n away from the Gods, they had started a passionate make out session his hands went up her dress, squeezing her thighs and earning some moans from her.

"You are so fucking," he cuts his words off by kissing her some more, words couldn't describe Y/n and how gorgeous she was. Who knew the God of War could fall for someone like Y/n.

Alex and Y/n could hear the Gods asking for where they were. Y/n put her hands on his chest pushing him away and looking at him.

"We should get back there...Zeus wants a meeting."

"Oh I know...and I'm annoyed with him...why not do this for a bit longer?" He teased, getting closer to him and kissing her lips and touch her body, feeling her up and wanted to fuck her all over again.

————————

What I imagine Alex and Y/n wearing

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #mw3 x reader #call of duty mw3 #cod mw3 #mw3 #alex keller x reader #alex keller cod #alex keller #alex keller x you #alex keller x y/n

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Daily fish fact #669

Yellow-edged lyretail!

The fish has many names, like chameleon sea bass, fairy cod, or yellow-edged coronation cod/trout/grouper. Rejecting continental shores, it prefers a habitat near islands and offshore reefs where it lives the life of a solitary predator.

#fish #fish facts #fishfact #fishblr #marine life #marine biology #marine animals #sea creatures #sea animals #sea life #biology #zoology #grouper #yellow-edged lyretail #chameleon sea bass #fairy cod

[darubyprincx]

The sea is cold and surprisingly full of life.

Do not call this body of water an ocean. It is too small to be an ocean and too large to be a lake. It hovers in-between as you dart betwixt its long, meandering strands of kelp, sopping wet, teeth grit, hunting and hunting for hands much like your own but bloated by the sea.

You've been at this for three days and three nights. At this point, you feel prepared to consecrate your own Noah.

The Drowned speak. Most of them don't talk in a language you understand, of course. Their words are bubbles and growls, raspy throats corroded by the salt water. Very few remain to tell stories at all, but the ones who do and the ones who can and the ones who share name you player and name you hunter.

"What do you seek?" one asks, voice barely a whisper above the roiling bass of the sea. You pause, sword suspended at their neck.

"What?"

"The still-hearted do not come to the sea," they say, dragging you closer to them to rasp in your ear. You let them. "What do you seek?"

Long, ruined limbs wrap around your torso. You shake yourself loose. "I need a weapon," you say, voice honed sharp to cut away the lingering strings of enchantment binding you close to the doomed soul. "Something I can throw."

"And after that?" the drowned drawls. "Will you enchant it?"

"Yes," you say. "To summon lightning."

"For what cause?"

"I am crafting," you say, continuing to swim backwards and letting your arms drift outwards a bit as if to suggest grandiosity, "a set of armor so great and so powerful that none shall touch me when my work is done. I shall use it to protect my friends and defeat my enemy. It needs to be struck by lightning before it works, though."

"And after that?" asks the drowned, voice eerily pleasant. This is a trap. There is no life behind those eyes, no soul behind that voice. If it is, it's rotted, stinking of dead fish and decaying kelp and the salt-stained piers of long gone seaside towns. There is nothing for you, a living player, here. Still, you linger, momentarily paused in your journey to trade words with a long dead wraith. "What will you do when you've conquered the world and swallowed the sun, player? You can fly. I've seen you do it. What comes next, hunter, when all of your friends are safe and all of your needs sated?"

You pause. "I do not know."

The drowned smirks, mouth twisting oddly and cruelly, as if the movement pains it somehow. "You are of the land and sky," it says, kicking forward to place one clammy hand on your cheek in a gesture that is the very shadow of tenderness. "But I? I pledged my love to the sea and she gives me all I need. The ocean is eternal, and I am the ocean's."

"That's no way to live," you say, not exactly thinking before speaking.

The drowned laughs at that, a raspy laugh of ruin and salt. "I died long ago," it murmurs, standing up straight and aiming its trident at your heart. The kelp that you did not realize was twining itself around your limbs and sword cinches tight. With a twisted grin, the trident pierces.

You wake with a strangled gasp on the shore, freezing and soaked to the bone. It's nighttime and raining. You run as fast as your legs will carry you home and half-collapse inside your house, teeth chattering, head full of eerie words, not giving your stolen trident a second glance.

#ray's tag #keys' writing #minecraft #this post is about my decision to grind for the strongest armor in the (modded) game and how i realized about an hour in that #maybe i didnt want to do this with my life this weekend

[sarahmackattack]

Every single one of these animals was found by me with almost no equipment along the jersey shore (just a fishing rod for the fish and a pint glass at most for everything else).

In order of appearance:

Horseshoe crab

Sea walnut (Mnemiopsis leidyi)

Mantis shrimp

Sea angel (clione)

Black Sea Bass

Spider crab

Sea gooseberry (Pleurobrachia pileus)

Unidentified crustacean larva

ghost crab

Want to learn more about the shore? Text SHORE to 1-833-SCI-TEXT

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

If you haven’t received a Guero ask yet, I would like him with with prompt #4: 'I'm cold, and you're warm, you should do something about that." Pretty please!

Even though I love his dad more, he’s still a really cute guy!

Masterlist

Eventful Outing

Contains: Fishing (killing fish for food given a two-word mention) fluff.

1.4 K words

“When it rains on the ocean it rains on fish too.” - Matshona Dhliwayo.

As you stood in the rain with the river flowing by you, you wondered why you had agreed to this, "I brought plenty of food, can't we go inside until the rain eases up?" 

Guero snorted, "No fucking way, I told you I was going to catch us a fish for dinner and I am." 

You looked to his father, who shook his head, "The young man had a plan y/n, I'm sure we won't be waiting long." 

When Guero got you to agree to go on a fishing trip up north with him and Ibarra, you didn't think that would mean being stuck in the rain while they struggled to catch dinner, "It's not Salmon season so the only fish you're going to get now is Bass. You need to put different bait on the line." 

Guero glared at you, but there was no fire behind it, "You could have told us that an hour ago." 

His father huffed, "I tried to son, but you wanted things your way, telling me you read a book and shit. But now a pretty woman tells you and you're rushing to do what she says." 

Guero walked towards the shore, making sure to flick water at you as he took different bait from the box, "You wanna tell me how you know all of this and I don't?" 

You blinked, "I wasn't the only one, it's not a my fault you don't listen to me or your father." 

Guero smirked, "I listen to you where it counts." 

Despite your best efforts, you couldn't ignore the snicker that his dad gave, "Please shut up before I drown you." 

He turned to his father and inhaled in fake offence, "Do you hear how she talks to me Pops?" 

Ibarra shook his head, "You deserve it son, you got a big mouth." 

Your eyes widen in agreement, "Doesn't he? Holy shit, sometimes he won't shut up." Guero gave you a look and you held up a hand, "I know what you're about to say and if the words come out of your mouth I'm going to drown you for sure." 

He chuckled, "I wasn't going to say anything." 

Ibarra's hearty chuckle followed, "Yes, you were, it was as obvious as something can be." 

You shook your head, "Ok if this keeps going, I will drown myself." Still, you knew that look on Guero's face, "You are incorrigible." 

He smiled, "You love me." 

You sighed, "Yes, I do. Now please catch us food. I'm freezing my ass off over here and I know for sure I packed enough food to last us, so I'm only standing here to preserve your ego." 

He hands his father a chunk of bait before baiting his hook and throwing the line, "How did you know about the bait anyway? You hate camping." 

"One, we're not camping, we're staying in a cabin and two, I like to be prepared, so I talked to the bait shop attendant." You pointed to the box, "There's even stuff in there for crayfish since I bought a pamphlet for how to build traps from sticks and leaves and I thought you might like to try it." 

Ibarra smiled, "How thoughtful. That would be great y/n, I love crayfish." 

Guero turned to you and mouthed, "Kissass." But his eye betrayed how much he appreciated the amount of investment you had put towards this vacation. 

There was a change in the light and you looked up, the clouds growing even more ominous, "We're about to get a storm so you two better hurry up." 

Guero chuckled, "So you can predict the weather now? Tell me oh wise one, what other powers do you...." The skies opened in a torrent of water, "I stand corrected." 

You sighed, "I'd say you've got about twenty minutes before the thunder starts." 

"We'll have a fish by then." Guero sounded so sure of himself that there was no point in dissenting and sure enough, when the first crack of thunder came across the sky, Guero's rod jerked, "I told you." 

After a few mighty heaves, it was out of the water and dispatched humanely and Ibarra reeled in his line and sighed, "Alright then, can we go inside before we're hit by lightning." 

"Please, I'm freezing to death." You were so cold you swore your fingers were going to fall off. 

 Guero chuckled, "Hell yeah." 

Everyone headed inside and wrapped themselves in towels, "I'm going to clean and prep that fish and have a shower, no touches it." 

"I caught it, don't you think I should be the one to cook it." He was as smug as ever. 

Your eyes went wide, "No fucking way. A light and sweet river fish this fresh only has two preparation, baked with crispy skin or poisson en papillote. The oven here isn't powerful enough to bake it properly so poisson en papillote is it." 

Guero looked at you with such affection that you felt your heart might burst, "I have no idea what poisson en papillote but there was enough passion in your voice to let me know I should give up." 

Ibarra smiled, "It's French for fish in paper. It's really nice." 

Guero snorted, "Since when did you two get so fancy?" 

You sighed, "Please finely slice some onions. If you've got time to be all judgy, then you have time to help." 

Guero smirked, "I can do that." 

****

"Thish is sho good, you have to coo thish all the time." 

You shook your head, "Guero, don't talk with your mouth full, it's rude." 

"It is very good, all that time in the rain was worth it." You could tell Ibarra was trying extra hard, he knew how much his son loved you, and he wanted to make the most of the time away. 

You nodded, "I don't think I've ever cooked with fish that fresh, maybe tomorrow we can try and get some crayfish."

Guero suppressed a smile, "Look at you two getting along, and here I thought y/n was rude to everyone. I guess it's just me." 

You huffed in mock offence, "I am not rude to you, I just don't worship the ground you walk on like the other women you've spent you time with." The glare you fixed him stopped him from quipping back, "Yeah, that's what I thought. You're big mouth is going to get you into trouble one day." 

Ibarra, "It's already got him into plenty. Do you know about the time he landed in the principle's office for talking shit to a cop that came by the school to give a career talk?" 

"No, but I'm hoping you're going to tell me now." You weren't going to lie, you were hoping Ibarra would provide you at least one embarrassing story before you made your way back to SP. 

Guero chuckled, "Oh, you're having so much fun aren't you." 

You nodded, "Fuck yeah." 

****

The night wound down, this fish picked clean and the bread pudding Ibarra gone in one sitting. You tended to the fire in your room and shivered as Guero came up behind you, "Let me do that Mi amor." 

You pressed your lips to his cheek as you headed to the bed, moaning as the warmth from the heated blanket surrounded your skin, "You turned it on?" 

He nodded, "Of course. I can't have you going to bed cold now, can I?" 

With the fire stoked, he climbed into bed and rested on his back next to you and just as he got comfortable, you stretched your cold foot across the bed and brushed him with it, "Jesus Christ." 

 You flipped onto your side, "I'm cold, and you're warm, you should do something about that." 

Guero sighed and freed himself of his shirt before reaching over and manhandling yours off, after that, he pulled you into his arms so your skin was pressed again his, "Better?" 

You nodded, "Yep." 

He ran a hand up and down your back and rubbed your nose with his, "This is the closest we've been all day." 

You pecked his cheek, "Yeah I know, but I don't really want to make out with you in front of your father." 

He smiled, "It's not like he hasn't seen some shit." 

You huffed, "Next time he can bring someone and then it won't be awkward." 

Guero's eyebrows furrowed, "On second thought." 

You shook your head, "I have spent the whole day missing touching you." 

"Yeah?" He sounded so smug, "Maybe there's something I can do for that?"

"Nope, we're going to bed." As much as you wanted to, you had no idea how thin the walls were. 

He buried his nose in your hair and inhaled, "Alright Mi amor, I love you." 

"Goodnight Guero, I love you too." 

Fin

@withmyteeth @daydreaming-belle

#mayans mc #guero fanfic #guero x reader #guero mayans #guero #andrew jacobs #mayans

[walker-bait-1973]

We Ain't Dead Part Two

Photo Edit By Me

A Daryl Dixon x Reader (she/her) Fanfiction

18+

Warnings: Usual TWD Violence, Death, Alcohol, Swearing, Slow Burn, Fluff, Smut

Author's Notes: The group has been at the prison, and Y/N is starting to fit in. Carol expresses her concerns to Daryl.

Part One

Masterlist

Chapter 7: Fish For Dinner

“Up there,” Daryl pointed. They walked through the brush to a small pond. Y/N brought out a tin can filled with worms. The two tossed out the lines and sat on the shore, patiently waiting. Y/N breathed deeply, watching the ripples in the water. Every now and again, a fish would jump.

“They don’t know the world’s ended,” Daryl commented.

“Hmm.” Y/N remarked, “no one told ‘em.”

Daryl’s lips tightened, “gotta piss.”

While he was gone, Y/N saw his pole tip. She grabbed it and pulled in a nice bass. She unhooked it and attached it to a makeshift stringer. Daryl came out of the bushes zipping up his jeans and adjusting his belt. He saw her worming his hook.

“You had a fish.” She said laughing.

“What?! No way…”

She held up the stringer.

“Damn, nice bass.”

“Yeah, I’m taking credit for that one,” Y/N grinned.

She handed him back his stick. He tossed the line in. They’d been successful, fishing out almost thirty-five; a mixture of bass and perch. Daryl held up the stringer, “we did good.”

She nodded, “fish tonight.”

They headed to the bike. A small group of walkers came out of the trees, between them and the bike.

“Shit,” Daryl muttered, setting down the fish. Y/N pulled out the spears, rushed forward and took out two walkers. Daryl grabbed his knives and joined the fight. There was one more walker, both pulled their bows, drew, and released the arrows. Both arrows hit in a criss cross pattern through its skull. They looked at one another, chests heaving with adrenaline. Y/N grinned. They walked over, and Daryl moved its head from side-to-side whistling.

“Wow,” Y/N said, pulling her arrow, “this is getting to be a habit.” She handed Daryl the bolt of his arrow. She scooped up the fish as they passed, jumped on the bike with him, and they took off.

When they returned to the prison, they set up an old desk with a basin of water on the side. Y/N spat on a whetstone and sharpened two knives. She handed one to Daryl who started deboning a perch. Y/N watched interestedly.

“Not fileting it?” she asked.

He shook his head, “lose too much meat that way.” He picked up another perch and traced the backbone with the point of his blade, “the line is there, draw in at an angle,” he showed her, “slide it slow and flat back, slip it out by the tail. Flip it, do it again. Pull the head.” When he did so, the whole backbone came out, ribs and all.

She picked up a perch, slowly slid the point in by the backbone. She started to cut, but he reached over, “lay it flat back, go slow,” he stepped behind her, held down the head and then held his hand over hers. They moved the knife back to the tail.

“That’s it,” he said. She held it up, pulled the head, and all the bones came out. She smiled at him. He nodded.

“You filet the bass though?” she asked.

“Hell yeah,” he grinned, “you?”

She nodded.

They tossed the dressed fish into the basin. Carl walked over and peered into it.

“Wow, look at all those fish!” 

“You cooking tonight?” Y/N asked him. Carl laughed.

“No, but I’ll carry ‘em in for you.”

“Nah, we’re gonna cook ‘em out here. Not on no damn burner!” Daryl exclaimed. Y/N pointed to some broken bricks, “we’ll build up some walls for the grill.” He nodded.

They dug a shallow hole in the grass, clearing away the tall weeds, and piled bricks in a half circle. Y/N sat down with a thick roll of wire from her pack and wrapped it around two rods from a file cabinet, and then across in a woven pattern. Glenn and Maggie watched, marveling over her creativeness. Daryl studied it, impressed. They stacked some dried twigs, got the fire going and piled on logs.

Everyone was coming out of the prison now. They laid the fish out on the makeshift grill, sprinkled some salt and pepper on it and everyone excitedly waited for them to be done. Carol made a dandelion greens salad, tossed with vinegar from the commissary, some salt. Hershel dug up some wild yams, threw them in a pot on the grill. It was a delicious dinner.

Everyone was happy, laughing, eating, passing around a bottle of wine. Hershel stuck to water, but the others had some of the warm, sweet wine. 

Rick waited for the right moment before saying, “So Y/N, what’s your story?”

Y/N wiped her fingers on her pants, “well, I’m from New York City-”

“That’s the accent. I couldn’t place it,” Maggie snapped her fingers.

“You have the accents,” Y/N laughed. The others laughed.

“Naw, you’re in the south, you got the accent,” Daryl teased.

“Oh, is that so?” Y/N cocked an eyebrow. Daryl grinned.

“So, you’re from NYC,” Carol piped up, “what did you do, before the fall?”

“I was a firefighter, ladder 7.”

“Were you there when the towers fell?” Beth asked.

Y/N swallowed the yam in her mouth before answering, “I was. That was rough.”

“How did you end up in Georgia?” Glenn asked.

Y/N set a bone on the side of her plate, “well, when everything happened, I was on duty. We were called out to help. Did what we could. Lost a lot of my team to bites, misaimed gunfire from the police. I made my way to City Hall, but Bloomberg was bitten, killed his whole staff. Government there was gone. Streets were rampant with the dead ones. I started trying to get out of the city with several people, but I’m the only one of that group that made it out alive. I traveled downward to head to the CDC in Atlanta. It was gone.”

Rick looked at the others, “yeah, we were there. We met a scientist, Dr. Jenner. He was the only one left of his team of hundreds. They’d been working on finding a cure. He told me…” He faltered.

Daryl nodded, “tell her.”

“Tell me what? What did Jenner tell you?”

“We’re all infected,” Rick said seriously. Y/N frowned.

“That’s why if you kill someone, they turn unless you stab them in the head. They don’t have to be bit.” Glenn explained.

What was she supposed to do with this information?

“Oh, wow,” Y/N stood up, “well shit… I need to take a minute.” She walked off, out of the glow of the fire.

“Buzzkill,” Carol smacked Rick in the shoulder.

“She had to know,” Daryl said.

Y/N walked down by the fences. She watched the dead ones wondering how many had died of natural causes. She grabbed her hooks, and untied the spot in the fence where the group would slip in and out. Her spear stabbed the first walker closest to her, and then she dragged two down with the hooks, stomping their heads out.

“Hey!” Daryl yelled, banging on the fence, “what the hell are you doin’?” he demanded, attracting walkers to the fence. He’d stab each one through the links.

“Thinning out these dead ones!” Y/N yelled back. Daryl shot one behind her head with his crossbow. He made his way out the hole and stood by her back, killing walkers.

“Why’d you come out here alone?” he asked, pissed off, knife in the rotted skull of a walker, drawing back, blood splattering everywhere.

“I can handle this, Daryl!” She cut one off its legs and stabbed it through the head. The hook pulled two toward Y/N, and she slammed them down on the ground. She jumped up and stamped down on their skulls. A spear got knocked from her hand. She dropped the other and brandished her knives. Daryl and Y/N worked hard and fast.

“Just be happy, we cleared that corner,” Y/N told him.

"That ain't the point," he yelled, "yer the point."

She flipped the knives in her hands upside down and gutted brain remains of dead ones around her. Daryl stopped fighting, and watched her, surprised.

Daryl yelled, “Get down!” Y/N dropped to the ground. Daryl threw a knife right through the skull of a walker that had crept up on her. She flew to her feet. Daryl panted  as he made sure she got up okay.

She picked up her hooks, slapped the blood from them, and wiped the gore against the clothes on a nearby walker. Daryl yanked the knife free from the walker’s skull, wiped it on his pants and approached her.

She and Daryl had a rapport, and a budding friendship. He held onto her arm.

He took a deep breath, “Yer… family. Talk ta me."

She huffed, sighing heavily, her shoulders slacking, "Rick, telling us that information. You know, about being infected."

Daryl chewed at the inside of his lower lip, waiting patiently for her to continue talking. 

“I can't wrap my mind around it,” she whispered, "and how this comes into everything from here on out for me. I don't want to lose Judith to the infection, or anyone in the group…" She’d kept her feelings turned off, trying not to get attached to him, but there it was, "or you…"

His grip softened on her arm.

She cleared her throat, looking away from him, "yeah, so… I am afraid I will lose my sense of focus while defending this place.”

Daryl chewed his lower lip, “you ain’t gonna.”

“How do you know I won't?"

“'Cause I got yer back," he answered softly.

Y/N felt the sincerity in his words.

“C’mon,” he said. They rejoined the group at the fire.

“You, okay?” Rick asked her.

“I am. Thank you,” she gave him a small smile. Rick looked over at Daryl. His eyes remained on the fire.

“So, you never did finish telling us how you got to Georgia,” Carol said, scraping her bones into a bucket.

“No, I didn’t, Carol, maybe another time,” Y/N said, standing up. She scraped her plate into the bucket and carried the dirty dishes inside. She then decided to go for a walk.

Carol looked at Daryl as people started to move inside, “Is she okay?”

“She will be,” he answered. Daryl walked slowly over to join her.

“Hey,” he greeted her quietly, "glad to see yer still on this side of the fence this time."

"Ha ha," she answered.

He puffed on his cigarette, “I know there’s more you ain’t tellin’ me. I hope at some point you will.”

Y/N looked his way, “I’m trying.”

"'Kay then…"

On their walk back, they looked at the sky.

“Stars are brighter since everything went to shit.” She commented, desperately needing a change in subject.

He grunted before exhaling, looking down from the heavens and at her.

"Lookin' tired, Y/N…" he remarked, tugging a lock of her hair. She gazed over at him.

"I am. I'm feeling it tonight. And after such a great day."

"Remember the good parts, not the bad."

She nodded as he held the door to the prison open.

“Goodnight, Y/N!” Maggie and Beth yelled as she made her way up the stairs. She waved.

“Thanks for the fish!” Carl yelled.

Y/N smiled and went into her cell. She washed up, changed into bed clothes, and lay on her bunk reading a book.

Daryl walked by her cell as he did every night. Tonight, he waited for a few extra minutes, thinking. He saw her candle go out, and stepped up to the closed door, “Night.”

There was a long pause.

“Night,” she responded.

Carol decided to go up to the second floor and went to Daryl’s door, standing by the entrance that was slightly ajar before clearing her throat.

“Carol?”

"Yeah, it's me, can I come in?"

He grunted. She opened the door a little wider to walk in. She stood at the foot of his bed while his eyes moved from  the magazine in his hand to glance up at her. She wrapped the opening to the flannel shirt around her. It was chillier than she anticipated.

"What happened today between you and Y/N?"

He shrugged, "nothin'. Just tryin' ta get her to talk."

Carol sat down on the edge of his bed. He sat up more.

"If she talks to anyone it will be you." 

"How do you know that?"

"Because… if it were me… I would… choose you… to talk to."

His lips parted. She touched his hand, feeling the calluses on his fingers. He hesitated before pulling his fingers away.

"Get to bed now," he said, opening the door for her. Her hand touched his shoulder on the way out.

"Goodnight, Daryl."

He nodded slightly, the conversation leaving him confused. 

Chapter 8: Berries, Pookie

Two Months Later

Glenn and Maggie went on a run for more formula. Y/N and Daryl offered to go, but they wanted to get out for a bit, which was understandable. The prison got to you after a while, and breaks were needed from those dark, dank walls.

While they were gone, Carol went out to where Daryl was working on tuning up one of the vehicles.

“Hey Pookie, can we talk?” She yelled over the motor. He turned off the engine.

“Listen, I’m really happy that we have Y/N around. She’s very useful, and resourceful, and pulls her own weight… sometimes more. But… I barely see you anymore. I miss you.” Carol sighed.

“Carol-”

“Let’s just spend some time together. Help me collect some berries outside the fence.”

“Sure.” He wiped his hands on a rag, picked up his crossbow and followed her to the fence.

“When I was out here fixing the hose to the water, I spotted a few bushes just over here,” she pointed. Ripe blackberries loaded each bush. He picked a few and popped them in his mouth. They started picking the berries, looking up often to keep an eye out for walkers.

“What do you two talk about?” She asked.

He shrugged, “stuff.”

“Stuff you can’t talk about with me?” She asked, dropping some berries into the bag around her wrist.

“It’s different.”

“Different how?” she asked.

“I dunno, just different.” He was abrupt in his answer.

“Where do you go?”

“If I would’ve known you’d be ridin’ my ass, I wouldn’t have come,” he exclaimed, dropping berries into the bag.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized.

He didn’t say anything, just continued to pick berries.

“What makes her so special, Daryl?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged, “she sees me different.”

“Different how? I’m just trying to understand,” she said patiently.

“Dunno.”

“I wish you’d share with me.” She mumbled.

Daryl shook his head, “I’m tryin’ to! You ain’t makin’ it fuckin’ easy.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized again, and drew his hair away from his eyes.

They resumed picking berries. Carol moved to another bush.

“Carol, there’s somethin’ bout her…”

Carol stopped picking to really pay attention to what Daryl was saying, “what is it?”

“She’s quiet n’ she… she’s a lot like me.”

“Is she?” Carol asked, “She doesn’t seem very affectionate though.”

Daryl considered what Carol was saying.

“Affectionate?” he asked, taking more berries from the bush.

“Yeah,” she said, “you know, a softer side of her.”

Daryl could recall a few instances where Y/N laughed with him, when the two were alone she’d started showing a little vulnerability, This was something Carol didn’t see.

“There’s a soft side,” he said quietly.

“Do you think that … you’re getting attached to her? After all, it’s been a year since she moved in.”

“Attached?” Daryl asked, chewing his lip. Carol’s smile softened. Daryl was a sensitive soul, albeit clueless on feelings of love and affection. He kept those things stored away due to all the pain he’d faced during his life. Carol knew this. Y/N was quiet most of the time. She seemed to always be more of an observer when the group was socializing. She knew a lot about survival and had great fighting skills.

Yet, Carol had some reservations about her, just because she still didn’t know much about her. None of them did. But maybe Daryl did.

“Looks like we have more than enough berries,” she said, holding up the bag, “we should probably head back.”

Daryl nodded, walking back with her, “Carol,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“She’s a good person.”

“I don’t doubt that she is. I just hope you’re keeping your eyes open when it comes to her.”

He frowned, "I don't know what ya are on 'bout anyway. Damn, ya never made a fuss 'bout Maggie or Beth…  ain't no difference."

Carol munched on some berries, "you don't see a difference?"

He shook his head, "Naw. Ya fuss too much, Carol. She’s a person. That's all."

Stay Tuned For Part Three

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd fanfiction #twd daryl

[vancouvercalico]

Planet of the bass: fish edition (full lyrics)

(Thanks to @candlecrusaders for some of the lyrics)

Alert, alert! DJ Seafood Star If you want fish to be swimming Have some worms Fisk! All the tuna in the world Let me see your beautiful gills Oh, I've got an idea Not eating fish!

When the fish is a haddock on a secret shore And the fish wanna swim upstream We are losing control on a seabed tonight Take your heart into a shark and scream If the sea is not green, but the sea is blue Have some lobster in a million ways Catch it, make it twice, before I swim Fishing season is a time today

Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na Put your flippers up in the air

all of the sea

swimming so free

when the fish net is cast

lucky to be last

flopping and splash

currents they crash

no thoughts of the past

on the planet of the

BASS

Fish, it always swim

salmon is my favourite squid

Mates: they always hatch

tell the boat: stop the catch

woosh hear the bass swim farther

have the gills, breathe the water

ocean current overload

everybody S W I M

all of the sea

swimming so free

when the fish net is cast

lucky to be last

flopping and splash

currents they crash

no thoughts of the past

on the planet of the bass

Hello, are you in lake? Yes, it's true, yes, it's true Are you the salmon of the river? Yes, I am a salmon I breathe water and not drown I breathe water too I want the mating in the ocean I am swim alone in the water Goodbye Goodbye And tonight, I will never be caught That is good to me as well as that Oh-oh, oh, la-di-da (Yeah, c-c'mon) La-di-da-di-da (Tonight) Ah-ah-ah (Yeah) Oh-oh-oh-ooh-oh, yeah, yeah, yeah (fish)

#dj crazy times #planet of the bass #ms biljana electronica #Candlecrusaders

[adelaidedrubman]

music monday + last (several) line(s)

well it’s monday, y’all know what that means. time for your weekly fishing song + hl&s excerpt. thank you to @nightbloodbix @corvosattano @socially-awkward-skeleton @inafieldofdaisies @simplegenius042 for enabling me with your tags, sending fresh ones along to @belorage @henbased @florbelles @unholymilf @direwombat @strangefable @v0idbuggy @derelictheretic @firstaidspray @poetikat @jackiesarch @afarcryfrommymain @ri-a-rose @voidika @shallow-gravy @bluemojave @nuclearstorms @schoute @wrathfulrook @roofgeese @8bitpizzacoupons @stacispratt and anyone else wanting to share some tunes and/or writing!

jumped in my john boat / i stow my gear / i fire her up and when i am in the clear / i sail across that water / as smooth as glass / ready, here i come, you five pound bass / i find a perfect spot / some old dead trees / back in a canyon where you cain’t feel no breeze / i tie my lure / i make my cast / it’s breakfast time, you five pound bass

while jessie does have the pleasure of catching a five pond bass this chapter, her sailing across the water is somewhat less smooth (and the boat she captains is not a john boat, although it is a — oh, you get the pun)

“After all that, they’re treating this like a fucking scheduling issue, when they should be —”

Should be what? She choked on a particularly strong gust of wind, stinging her chapped and sunbaked cheeks as it whipped against her face, a matching burn rising in her throat. Apologizing? Begging? Taking it all back?

She gritted her teeth tightly to steel against the wind as she continued. “They have the fuckin’ gall to act like they’re the ones being nice about this, when they can’t even —” She clenched and ground her jaw. “It’s a public shore! Sherri doesn’t own it, just because her store is nearby and it’s fucking convenient for them! They never even had a right to —”  “You need to slow down!” She pushed away the arm reaching for the steering wheel. “I’m fucking talkin’ at a perfectly fuckin’ measured and goddamn coherent pace! If you can’t keep up, that’s —” “The boat!” he screamed, fingers clawing and pulling at her arm without managing to get it to budge. “You need to slow down the —” Sudden warmth slung itself along the tops of her thighs — a glistening mix of blood and saliva spurting from his mouth as his jaw crashed against the glossy wood of the dash. And the air filling her lungs to feed the complaining shout building in her chest was knocked from her just as quickly by the heavy impact of his torso crashing against her as he was flung back — landing in her lap for the briefest heartbeat before they were both sent flying over the captain’s seat and tumbling along the length of the boat as its bow tipped upward and the smooth coast of water along its hull was replaced by a harsh, violent scraping.

#jestiny 🤝 xander: crashing a boat #also sorry if the formatting on this is all the way fucked #tumblr decided i needed to choose between no spaces between paragraphs and giant spaces so. giant spaces it is (hopefully) #wip #Spotify

[lilypadlys]

Reset

Summary: Rain and Aurora both find themselves overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle of the ministry. They’re able to find solace in each other’s company at the lakefront.

Ship: Rain/Aurora

Word Count: 1,463

Rating: Gen

Tags: Tooth rotting fluff, cuddles, The princesses of Ghost having some quality time together

AO3 Link

Rain basks in the cool, dark, quiet of the lake. Shortly after his summoning, Rain had discovered the lake adjoining the abbey. It quickly became his favorite place to escape to. Whenever the noise and chaos of the ministry got to be too much, Rain could inevitably be found at the waterfront. Dipping his feet in while sitting on the pier. Swimming lazy laps back and forth. Sitting at the bottom of the lake and watching the fish dart by. Anything really if it meant finding solace in his element.

Tonight, he simply floats on his back. He lets the current gently steer him around; not minding if he gets carried far from the shore. The more distance from the light and noise, the better.

He’s fallen asleep out here before like this; lulled by the hum of cicadas and the lapping of water. He’d be perfectly happy to spend most nights out here if it weren’t for how cozy cuddle piles with the other ghouls could be. Even tonight he longs for some of that comfort. However, his need for peace and quiet is stronger.

Suddenly another sound enters the night. Someone with a soprano’s range is singing. It’s a welcome addition to the symphony of night sounds. The voice works its way in and mingles with the hum of insects and splishes of the water. It’s melodic. Haunting and beautiful. Rain instantly knows its source. Aurora.

He raises his head and sure enough, the petite ghoulette is perched on the small dock off in the distance. Rain turns over and ducks underwater. He swims over quickly, resurfacing to the side of the pier. He does so just in time to hear Aurora belt out an almost angelic sustained note that echoes across the water.

“That was beautiful.” He hums.

Aurora startles and looks around.

Rain waves to her from the water and she relaxes. “Hi Rain. I didn’t realize you were out here.”

“Yeah, the lake is really nice at night. It’s quiet.”

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to disturb you. I can go…” The ghoulette ducks her head shyly and makes to stand.

“No, it's okay.” Rain paddles over to the front edge of the dock and sets his arms on the ledge. “Stay?”

“Okay.” She nods with a smile, and settles back down.

“You can keep singing if you want.”

Aurora's smile widens.

Rain rests his chin on his crossed arms as he listens. Like before, her voice melds delightfully with the ambient sounds. It’s as if she’s conducting. The swish of cattails in the wind, the croak of frogs, and the push and pull of the water, following her lead.

Rain can’t help but want to join in. He hesitantly adds his own voice to the swell of sound. Aurora encourages him with a grin. Rain doesn’t sing much. At least not around the others; normally too shy too. But now, guided by Aurora, he finds a voice he didn’t know he had. When their duet comes to a grand finale of a preserved crescendo, Aurora laughs.

“I didn’t know you could sing!”

Rain shrugs, blushing. “Thanks.”

“You should join in with the backing vocals at practice. You’ve got an amazing voice.”

“Eh, I’ll stick to the bass. You, Cumulus, and Swiss have got things covered.”

“Hmm, alright.”

The two lapse into a comfortable silence. Aurora sits cross legged on the edge of the pier. Rain floats on his back again, but anchors himself with a hand on a dock support. They sit like this for a while, watching the stars move across the sky.

Rain can’t help but feel that despite the peace and calm, something’s missing. He wishes Aurora would fill the night with her haunting voice once more.

Rain breaks the quiet first. “So…you adjusting to life topside alright?” Aurora was a fairly new summon and had only been living at the abbey for a couple of months.

She takes a minute to contemplate the question; dipping a finger into the water and watching the ripples thoughtfully. “Hmm. It's really different from…down there. I think I like it. I’ve never had a pack before. Everyone is so nice and welcoming.” She pauses again before softly admitting, “It can get really overwhelming sometimes though. So many people and so much noise.”

Rain hums knowingly.

“I wouldn’t trade it for anything! But, sometimes I just need to get away.”

“Yeah. I feel that. When I first came topside it was a lot like that for me too. I love the others, but man can they be loud.”

Aurora giggles. “Like, Swiss is really funny but where does all that energy come from? Oh and Dew is constantly up to something. And Mountain? I share a wall with him. He snores like a hell hound.”

It’s Rain’s turn to laugh. “I don’t envy you. Oh, just wait til Lupercalia and Samhain. The whole abbey gets sent into a frenzy. I have literally slept out here some nights because the others were partying so long and hard.”

“Geez, I may have to join you.” She snorts. Then flushes. ”If…that’s okay with you.”

“Please. It’s not like I own the lake or something. The more the merrier.”

"Okay! I may take you up on that."

After another easy silence, Aurora suddenly exclaims, “Oh! You can see Mars really clearly tonight.”

“Huh?”

Aurora points at the sky. “See that red star?”

“Uh…oh! Yeah!”

“And that one,” She points at a different twinkling light, “is Saturn.”

“Do you like astronomy?”

“I adore it!” Aurora grins from ear to ear. “As soon as I found out the abbey had a library, I read all the astronomy books I could get my hands on.” She waves her hands excitedly as she talks.

Rain pulls himself up out of the water to sit on the pier beside her. “And what’s that one?” He points. “It looks like it’s blinking?”

“Hehe, that's an airplane. But that,” She moves his arm to indicate a different light. “is Sirius. The North Star.”

“What about that one?” He points elsewhere.

“That's the big dipper. See that little star there? And the ones next to it? Then the square they make at the end?”

Aurora continues to point out all the visible constellations as well as explain which ones will become visible once the season changes. She even knows some of the stories associated with the stars from many different mythologies. Rain is just content to listen. Even though he’d come out here looking for solitude and quiet; what he’s found in Aurora’s gentle presence is truly what he needed.

Aurora is interrupted mid explanation as she fights to stifle a yawn.

“You getting tired?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Let's head back then.”

“I can get back fine on my own. Don’t feel like you have to come in if you still want to sit out here for a while.”

“Nah, it’s getting late. I’ll walk back with you. Plus, if you're okay with it, I’d like to hang out with you some more.”

“Hehe, you sure? I must be boring you.”

“Of course not. I want to hear all about all the constellations that you haven’t told me about yet.”

“Okay! Do you want to crash in my room tonight?”

“Sure.”

The two ghouls make their way back to the abbey, Rain shaking himself dry before they enter. They pass the common room where the rest of the pack is still going strong, shouting and laughing over board games. Upon reaching Aurora’s room, the ghoulette flops on the bed.

Rain stops at the doorway. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna shower real quick.”

“Kay.” Aurora snuggles into her comforter.

Rain ducks into his room, and showers quickly. After drying off and changing into a clean tee and shorts, he heads back to Aurora’s room. When he enters, he finds her curled up in a nest of blankets, already fast asleep.

He quietly closes the door behind him and dims the lights before carefully joining her on the bed. Lifting the blankets up just enough to slide underneath, he lays next to her, his chest to her back.

The motion rouses Aurora and she sleepily rolls over so she’s facing Rain. She inches in close, pressing her forehead to his chest and tossing her arms around him. Rain wraps an arm around her back and nuzzles between her horns. Their tails meet and twine together.

Only in Aurora’s warm embrace does Rain realize just how strongly he’d been craving physical affection. He melts into her, letting himself relax. Aurora starts to hum a soft rendition of the song she’d been singing before, and Rain knows he’s done for. Together, the two ghouls drift off into peaceful sleep.

#ghost #the band ghost #rain ghoul #aurora ghoulette #nameless ghouls #ghost fanfiction #fluff #cuddles #tooth rotting fluff #Lys writes

[spacefinch]

The MSB kids are on a fishing trip with Uncle Brian. What will the kids do on the trip?

Ralphie: Actually fishing.

Wanda: Swimming with the fish.

Phoebe: Bird-watching. (While waiting for the fish to bite.)

Arnold: Just chilling on the boat.

D.A.: Researching fish facts.

Tim: Also underwater, taking videos of the fish.

Carlos: Bird-watching with Phoebe, or collecting rocks on the shore.

Keesha: Fishing as well.

Also: the lake they're fishing at is the same lake where the "Bass Class" episode of Wild Kratts takes place. HC that the "3rd place" fishing trophy that Gavin shows off in that episode is from a previous fishing contest in which Uncle Brian won first prize. (He's a lot nicer about contests than Zach is, of course!)

#magic school bus #asked and answered #headcanons #wild kratts

[crowthegeode]

How Powerful This Melody

There's something about music

How it pours over you like the tide

Ripping you away from reality as

It washes out into the empty space

The way it makes you breathe

Pump your chest like a bellows

And fill yourself with the sound

And I'm pulled to the surface

Dragged up and away from the drone

Broken through to the air with

The roar of the bass drum pounding

Like waves crashing on the shore

Gasping, take a breath with the cymbals

Then I'm captive again

Strings wrapped around me

Invisible like fishing line

Holding me down or are

They holding me up?

Oh how the outside melts away

Nothing left except those notes

A siren song that cries “stay”

With baton outstretched to you

You need not leave this moment

Come, play with us for a while

Cue the goosebumps on my skin

A chill at what I've witnessed

At the sheer beauty present here

That awesome power of the brass

Like a tempest trapped inside a tube

There's no way this repeats itself

Nor could you ever be the same again

Your soul has been eroded and

There's something that's been lost

Memory doesn't hold the weight

Can't anchor you to the ground

The same way this held you prisoner

#my poetry #music #candlelight musings

[shittybundaskenyer]

✹ ▬   𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑

rating: Explicit

pairing: Javier Escuella x M!Reader

summary: you go on a hunting trip with javier that ends with fishing, a good meal and a fight.

warnings: swearing, a bit of angst, some sweet tension, some more yearning, a little gory details with the fish, some rough kissing and smut in the end for a treat

word count: 2867

a/n: another fic i wanted to get out earlier but couldn’t. this is my first time writing javier and a male reader so bear with me. also this is a bit different from my usual i think? anyway thank you so much for your request and kind words anon, you’re so sweet! 💕

MASTERLIST    |    ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

The water is lukewarm near the shore, lapping gently at the sandy soil as the wind picks up a little, warping the muddy green surface of the lake into ruffles and waves. You can see the bushes of pondweed and algae twist and twirl under the water, dancing around small fishes and tadpoles. A hungry bird watches over them, from the tree above your head where it sang love-lullabies just a moment ago. He's gone quiet, hopeful for his early dinner. 

You miss the song already. 

A loud splash distracts you, erasing the soft melody from your mind. It’s a fish, you realize, hooked on Javier’s line, desperately flopping around in the water to tear itself free. There’s no mercy for it where two hungry stomachs growl in sync. The last time you’ve eaten a normal meal was yesterday morning. 

Javier takes his time though, fishing peacefully like the day’s all his, like there’s no law breathin’ down your necks, like there’s no god above the peacefully swaying Lemoyne meadows. 

But there’s one. Fate. 

He grips the rod firmly, reels in the fish with practiced movements. It’s a fairly big one, a bass probably. Gonna make one hell of a meal with all the wild onions and thyme you gathered. 

It’s still strange—how you two can work together. There’s a lot of silence, a few long, meaningful looks and no words are needed when you sit down in the end of a day and spend some time nursing a whiskey bottle. He often sings, hums gentle tunes of songs you cannot understand. Love ballads, war songs, some sea shanties Pearson taught him. His voice is nice, soft even. Lacks the edge your own possesses. No one says your name like he does. 

Christ, you’re lost again. You watch how he picks the hook out of the mouth of the bass and walks to a small tree stump that’s covered in thin flecks of blood and silky fish scales. You’ve seen this countless times, the way he knocks the life out of it with a log, one really strong hit to the head, and the fish’s eyes go dead. You can’t look away from his hands. Slender fingers, crossed by many scars. Knife cuts, gun-callouses. Fine, dark hairs and neatly trimmed nails. There’s blood under them, probably the fish’s. Or one of the lawmen. Or yours. 

A dull ache flares up in your throat, under the small scar you got years ago. The phantom pain of a touch, those same fingers pressing on your own skin. You shake your head and stand up rom the grass, patting down your jeans and popping open the top buttons of your shirt. This is the longest day of the year, the day of the sun when it never wants to slip under the horizon. It burns your skin, makes sweat roll down between your shoulder-blades. Purgatory, for your sins. Just as hot as the gunpowder exploding when firing a bullet. 

You sit down near the fire, trying to breathe some life into it. There’s a small grill you salvaged from a broken down wagon somewhere near Emerald Station, and an old coffee percolator Javier found in the shack nearby. After what happened in the last years this feels like heaven. A warped, sick kind of heaven, a corner of hell masquerading as the home of angels. 

The firewood is still wet from the morning rain so it pops and coughs smoke into your face, cracks loudly as the fire finally catches. 

Javier turns towards you and smiles at the sound, that rare, soft smile of his. It makes something inside your chest throb. This quiet companionship, friendship even, is still something you can never get used to. People were not meant for you. Like you’ve been at the scene when the Tower of Babel got cursed, and with it, you as well. You were always greedy for love. For attention, yet you never deserved it. 

You never will. 

But this, this is something. Enough. 

When the fire is up and roaring, you flop down into the grass again and watch how Javier cuts the fish's belly open, how he guts it with practiced movements. A blade wielded by him turns into a dancer. There's that deep yearning inside you again, that aching realization that you would die the prettiest death if he would decide on flipping that knife into your chest instead. You, helpless, pressed into the softening earth with his strength holding you down, burying you amongst fish scales and fresh grass and the rich soil. 

You remember the day you two met all too well. The cut on your neck. The blood in your throat, oozing from the corner of your mouth. The tip of his knife between your ribs, ready to press down—

It’s the material of many dreams of yours after all. 

"You okay, my friend?" he looks up at you, stopping in his work for a moment until your gaze meets his. You nod and he gives you the barest smile, returning to prepare the fish. 

You've both come a long way since then. 

“When do you think this is gonna end?” you find yourself asking. It’s a selfish question. You don’t exactly know what are you really asking. 

“What?” 

This hunting trip. This reality of being wanted dead or alive in multiple states. This life. This companionship.

“The law, chasin’ us,” you finally sigh. You’ve been greedy before, but you know better now. You have to enjoy this until it lasts. 

“That’s never,” he smiles again, a with an almost sad look in his eyes. The fish’s almost done. He puts it near the others on a wobbly old tin plate. 

You prepare the fish from now on, seasoning it with the fresh greens you picked nearby while Javier packs up his fishing equipment and flops down next to you in a log to clean his knife with the rag he uses to rub gun-oil onto his revolver. 

The heat is almost unbearable next to the fire but the smell makes you stay when the fishes start to cook on the old grill. Javier watches with hungry eyes, fidgeting with a cigarette in his mouth in the meanwhile until he offers the half-burnt thing to you. You try no to think about how the butt of the cigarette faintly tastes of mint and chewing tobacco.

This is the best dinner you’ve had since months. The stale taste of Pearson’s stew is erased from your tongue as soon as you take a bite from the cooked bass. Javier has bread, too, a can of dried tomato and some leftover whiskey from last week. This could be a hotel dinner somewhere in Saint Denis. But it’s not. You’re sitting in the real wilderness, not brick and steel, under old trees and a symphony of birdsong with the familiar smell of algae and fish, the quiet lapping of the lake. 

You think about the others, the camp. The work that still needs doin’. The law set on a wild goose-chase. When you’re both finished with the food, you can’t help asking, 

“Do you think Dutch’s got somethin’ wrong goin’ on with his head?”

Javier’s eyes go narrow for a second. 

“‘Course not,” he slowly shakes his head and puts the plates away. They need washing a bit later. He looks up at you and walks closer. “What, you wanna leave?”

You shake your head and wipe your hand on your jeans. 

“No. I was just thinkin’ about what happened with Arthur a few weeks back. He never went searchin’ for him.”

Javier sees through you like glass. He know where this conversation is going and he doesn’t like it. 

“He was probably busy,” he shrugs, kicking dirt onto the fire to make it die down faster. There’s no need for it in the warm nights of July. Your hand curls into a fist. 

“But with what, Javier? I can’t wrap my head around why he wouldn’t care for his own son,” you know you’re going too far. But what happened scares you. Arthur is Dutch’s right hand man, and he didn’t care when he went missing. You just know he didn’t. 

“You thinkin’ on betraying him now, don’t ya?” Javier’s hand goes for the bade at his hip, his palm drapes around the wooden hilt. 

“I just—I think he’s not in his right mind. What if it was you who got captured?”

“I wasn’t,” he whispers, softy, in that voice he uses to hum ballads after the camp went to sleep. 

“That’s not what I’ve asked. You’re just afraid to think about what would’ve happened if he didn’t search for you. I know he wouldn’t.” This is why people hate to be around you. You ask too much, stir up shit when you know you shouldn’t. But you care for these people, for him, if they get hurt… You can’t let them. You have a knife, a gun and blood in your guts, you can fight. No one can run forever.

“Stop,” he hisses, and the blade is unsheathed. You almost anticipate the cold weight of it against your neck, in a really fucked-up way. 

“Loyalty blinded you. All of us. But this thing, since Blackwater, it ain’t right,” your voice is calm but your heart isn’t.

Javier lunges for you, and you tumble into the grass, with his weight atop you and his knife nestled in the hollow of your throat. The scar flares up there with a burning of a cut. Javier snarls.

“If I die, I’ll die. But I’m gonna be free.”

You force his hand away, kick him off of you, down into the dirt beside you. There’s a brief second while you’re both laying flat under the settling sun, until he rises up again and goes for your shoulder instead, cutting a hole into your shirt and nicking the skin under.

“Do you really?” you look up, into his eyes until the fight softens in them. He’s tired under the mask, so tired, for a second you almost think it looks like he’s dead. He’s been running since… what? So long before Blackwater, before you two met, before anything. He runs since whatever happened in Mexico. He got so used to it he can’t stop. 

“Stop it!”

You knock the blade out of his hand anyway. There’s a slap on your face that you can’t really feel, a punch to your shoulder. He slumps against you like a dead body, like a corpse freshly pulled off of a horse’s back. Fish scales glint in the yellow light between blades of grass around you, turquoise and silver and muddy brown. Colors of summer scars. 

“I jus’ don’t want you to die like a dog, Javi.”

You don’t move, you can’t. It takes a little time for him to breathe normally again. You can feel it against your chest, the scar on your neck. 

“Why?” his lips almost touch your shoulder. Somewhere in your body caterpillars transform into moths with palm-sized wings. 

“We have no one, just each other. Why die for a lost cause?”

You know he wants to say loyalty, but he doesn’t, in the end. He pulls back a little instead, gazing down at you like a lover. Like a killer. 

The moths are at your throat, digging into flesh, crawling out from that small scar when you ask, 

"Kiss me?" you try to whisper but it comes out as a weak question. 

His answer is a small smile, barely noticeable, and then his lips are on yours, chapped and warm and feeling like you've always imagined. Hunger crawls up inside you like a beast, so you open your mouth and let him in, almost choking on a groan when Javier kisses you harder. There's no air left between you, not a bare inch of distance and you think something breaks inside your chest when his eyelashes flutter against your cheek. 

There's teeth and there's tongue, and there's an insistent hand grasping your nape, nimble fingers cradling your head, sliding over your hair. You're a lost instrument and he plays you like the most finely tuned guitar, plucking your carefully built walls away until you're singing a string of sighs into his mouth. 

You shudder from it, pull away a little when the sighs want to turn into sobs. Christ. 

He watches you from under his dark lashes, eyes half-lidded and almost hazy. You've seen him being drunk before but this look is different. There's heat behind, a low fire burning in amber as you nudge his nose with yours and let him kiss you once more, softly this time. 

You’ve always mistook him for a romantic, but it’s more. Passion. Burning, untamed passion that scorches everything in it’s path, including you. It’s gonna be the end of him, you just know it. His passion in loyalty, music, killing—in loving in his own kid of way. 

The kisses turn into insistent hands gripping shirt-sleeves and tearing down buttons as Javier scrambles to his feet, reaches for you to follow. The shack you made your home for the night is just a few steps away, it’s walls eaten away by time and the weather and bugs, but it’s enough to take your weight as he pushes you against it next to the door inside, finally sheltered by some shade but still burning. 

You kiss him and he kisses you back and somewhere between it turns into a fight of fates, of opinions and worlds. He won’t let go of this, you won’t let go of yours. You’ll likely die with a bullet in your head, a noose around your neck, but together at least. Prey animals know they will die if a predator hunts. You know this won’t last forever, but right now, right now it feels like it might. 

Javier is not a romantic, but your idea of romance is warped anyway. You want this strange feeling of lightheadedness as he kisses your air away, this crawling feeling inside you as he smacks you against a wall once more, caging you in like a rare animal caught by scientists to study. A new species, a leech, a tick. Latching onto love, getting poisoned by the sickly sweet blood. 

You grab him by the neck and you turn, pressing him up against the only window until he yields. He grabs your shirt, pushes it off of your shoulder while you do the same with him, exposing dark skin and scars of the past. There’s no time to think. Love is an animalistic instinct and it drives your hands down his stomach, his navel, until his pants are open. 

Javier parts from you with a loud exhale and you fall to your knees.

You take him into your hand, your mouth, and soon after, into your throat. It's messy and tears bubble out the corners of your eyes when you take it a bit too far, but hell, you don't want to stop. Not when a loving hand slides over your left cheek and a thumb gently wipes away the wetness under your eye. Not when you feel calloused fingers buried in your hair, not when he whispers your name so reverently you feel like a god. 

There's drool on your chin and tears stinging the corners of your eyes but Christ, he's so beautiful like this, backlit by the scorching orange of the afternoon sun, his skin hot on your tongue and you don't want to stop. The shack's dirty window fogs around his back, even though the humid heat outside and sweat beads in the cradle of his hips, trying to hold himself back, trying to last for you. 

“Javi,” you whisper his name like a question, but then you take him back into your mouth, almost choking when he shudders against you. Your name sounds sweet when he tries to make you stop and it feels like now you are pressing a blade to his neck. 

He wrestles you off of him after that, pulls you up and pushes you onto the old mattress, covering your body with his until there’s no space left between. He wipes the drool off of your chin, licks into your mouth for another slow kiss. His hands slide over your chest, your belly where the callouses catch on star-shaped bullet wounds. You grind against each other, seeking friction, lost in the warmth and the touches and the slickness in Javier’s hand. 

You're both nothing, only bugs making love under the forgiving eyes of the sun, getting scorched on the dark rock you decided to tangle into each other. But Javier doesn't mind. He likes you even like this, bruised and broken and stepped on like a sad little cockroach. You're alive, and you have love to give. It's more than enough.

He touches a hand to your throat, traces a sticky finger over the small scar that's still there. You don't know if it's an apology or not, but his kiss after definitely is. 

Gutted bugs laying in the sun, the new thieves of the summer. If you die, you'll die free.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #rdr2 fanfiction #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella x m!reader

[swede1952]

Morning catch, 20231008

In the mornings I take my coffee and camera, then Charlie and I go sit outside and watch the birds. A forest is just beyond my back fence, so a lot of birds come to my backyard feeders.

One of my retirement options was fishing, but I chose bird watching and photography, which is actually perfect. If I chose fishing, then what I'm doing now would be like living on the shore of a lake and being able to go out back and fish every morning. I would catch a lot of blue gills and perch, but occasionally a big bass, trout, or something more exotic.

This tufted titmouse (Baeolophus bicolor) in my analogy would still be among the blue gill and perch, but perhaps a bit large than most. I see them every day, but they are not as plentiful as cardinals, sparrows, and finches.

#photo #photography #photographer #photographylovers #birds #birdwatching #birdsphotography #birds of north america #birdlovers #birdphotography #birdingphotography #birds nature #tufted titmouse #backyard birds #bird #bird photography #bird watching #birding

[strange-nights-rp]

Meet the Clans - TidalClan

🌊Territory

Beach region. Long, sandy shores and occasional rocky cliff sides. The occasional tidepool dots the coastline. A large delta splits apart the territory.

🌊 Camp

Shipwreck – A long since shipwrecked boat. A rocky cliff sits at the back of the camp, with the ocean just outside the entrance of the camp. Broken wood from the ship line the outskirts of the camp. On the bottom part of the boat that remained intact after the wreck resides the elders den and nursery. On a small cabin on the deck of the ship resides the leaders den. A capsized dingy is home to the apprentices den. A small tidal pool stretches into the camp, ending in a small cave that houses the medicine cats den.

🌊 Landmarks

Great Oak - a large Live Oak with space under its roots, used as shelter during some storms

River Delta - where the Summit River meets the ocean, causing a delta to form

Twoleg Dock - fishing dock where boats are occasionally anchored, great hunting spot

Tidepool - a large tidepool. Is considered a sacred place for TidalClan.

🌊 Weather

Usually warm and rainy in Newleaf, hot and sunny in Greenleaf, cool and sunny in Leaf-fall, and cool and cloudy in Leafbare.

🌊 Governmment

The deputy is chosen by the medicine cat, who should get a vision or omen about who the next deputy will be.

🌊 Fauna

Prey - Water vole, mice, crab, salmon, cabezon, greenling, minnow, trout, pike, cod, bass, mackerel, gull, tern, petrel, plover, gannet, sandgrouse, clams, oysters

Predators - Snake, falcon, hawk

Other Animals - Sea otter, jellyfish, stingray, deer

🌊 Holidays

Diver's Festival – Held in Newleaf, this festivity celebrates the return of prey after a long leafbare. Divers host friendly competitions between each other: Who can catch the most prey, who can dive the furthest, who can hold their breath the longest, who can swim the fastest. Those that win are celebrated for a week, and get first pick of prey at the feast that takes place later in the day. Those who are not divers take the time to decorate the camp with anything colorful or bright, typically incorporating seaglass or scales in some way.

Ocean of Stars Night – Taking place a week before the summer solstice, this holiday celebrates the warm weather and is a time for reflection and blessings. The clan go to the shoreline to watch bioluminescent jellyfish drift past, with many seeing them as stars adrift in the ocean– blessings from their fallen clanmates and ancestors. Medicine cats may receive omens, as the barrier between the afterlife and the real world thins.

Leaf-Fall Hunt – Wanting to take advantage of all the fish in season and mammals going into hibernation for Leafbare, TidalClan bands together to hunt as much as they can. Groups are organized in terms of location– Divers are commonly picked for the beaches and beyond, while warriors and apprentices work together to hunt and bring back prey. What isn't eaten at the feast that night is carefully preserved.

🌊 Specialized Role

Divers - The divers of TidalClan are incredibly skilled swimmers, being the best of the best in a clan that regularly swims in the ocean. Known for their ability to hold their breath for long periods of time, they are capable of diving down to the ocean floor and retrieving prey.

#warrior cats rp #wc rp #new wcrp #warrior cat roleplay #warrior cats #warrior cats roleplay #wcrp #snwrp #strange nights

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Just wanted to say you’re an amazing writer and I loveeeeee reading your content…..any chance you could write a snippet with Wind and Fierce??? Pretty please! 🥹❤️🙏🏻

”Ok, but this stuff is the good bait,” Wind said eagerly, wiggling the bait in front of him.

The Fierce Deity watched him curiously, intrigued. “The good bait?”

“Oh yeah! This’ll attract all the fish, not just your standard bass, oh no, they’ll all come running!” Wind continued, throwing his fishing rod over his shoulder with enough gusto to almost knock himself off balance.

Fierce smiled, his own rod in hand. “Lead on, then, little hurricane.”

Wind twirled on his heels, marching towards the lake. As he walked, he asked, “Is there a lot of water where you’re from, Gramps?”

Fierce walked slowly since one of his steps was equivalent to four of Wind’s strides. “A fair amount, yes. No oceans from what I can recall.”

Wind paused as they reached the shore. He glanced at Fierce a little uncertainly. “What you can recall?”

“I have been trapped in that mask for a long time, little zephyr,” Fierce sighed. “I have… lost memories in that time.”

Wind’s expression was something akin to sympathy, one Fierce was not accustomed to having levied against him. The cursed deity sat, patting the ground beside him to move the topic along. He didn’t need the scrutiny, nor did he wish to burden the child. “Tell me of your world.”

Wind trudged a little closer to the water and then cast the line. Fierce followed suit from his own position.

“Well, with the ocean there’s water as far as the eye can see,” Wind explained, his face glowing at the thought of it. “And the waves are never quiet, you’ve always got this constant noise in your head and the smell of sea salt in the air. It’s really great.”

The sailor’s shoulders sagged a little. “I miss home.”

Fierce watched him a moment, somewhat lost as to the right thing to say. After all, the cursed deity had no home. He asked, “Do you wish to return home?”

Wind sighed, shrugging. “Yes? But I don’t mean permanently, I just want to see everyone. Letters are great but it’s not the same as being there, you know?”

Fierce hummed thoughtfully before settling cheerfully into waiting for fish to bite. Neither had to wait long, and their lines were tugged nearly simultaneously. The pair carefully reeled in their prey, Wind squealing in delight as his flew through the air and smacked him in the face. Fierce played with his a little longer before the fish landed neatly in his clawed grasp.

“I told you the bait would work!” The sailor yelled. “I probably scared the other fish away though, but give it time; they always come for this stuff!”

Fierce smiled fondly at the boy, and the pair deposited their catch in the pouch Wind had brought along. Silence filled the air, pressing around them like a blanket, warming their hearts and minds. It was interrupted by the gentle lapping of the lake shore before Fierce finally spoke up.

“Home is where family is, you say?”

Wind glanced at him. “Hm? Yeah, you’re right.”

Fierce reached out, giving the boy a gentle back scratch. “Then you should remember you have a home here as well, little zephyr.”

Wind opened his mouth to speak and found no words coming out. Smiling gently, the boy launched himself into Fierce’s chest, nuzzling his nose into the mythical deity’s neck, fishing forgotten. No words needed to be said, and the pair held each other as the waves continued their gentle lullaby.

#you ask skye answers #lovely anon #fierce dadity #lu wind #writing