I have had Vision, a dwarf BCI and my youngest snake, for roughly 9 months now. He will be a year old in July, so by snake standards he is still very much a baby. In the past 9 months, he’s gone from, for lack of better words, a bitey defensive asshole to a relatively passive and trusting creature who simply has Rules ™ on how, where, and when he can be touched. I used the same method to produce these results as I do with all of my reptiles, including my young snake of a notoriously aggressive and defensive species (Amazon Tree Boas) and have frequently been asked how I manage to get these animals that instinctively bite first and ask questions never to allow handling and pictures without drawing blood.
On my dog blog I’ve mentioned the concept of body autonomy a few times in relation to training dogs, and how it crosses over into husbandry in other species. In these posts I’ve detailed how I tame the larger birds at my job, how I teach my snakes not to bite me when I take them out, how I can successfully convince a thrashing dog to accept grooming without a fuss, how I teach cats to not turn into screaming demons for nail trims, and more. I also cover this in many of my dog training lectures at work as my students teach their dogs to allow grooming, nail trims, and medically related handling to prevent injuries and incidents when interacting with these animals. All of this relates back to body autonomy, and how we as humans have consistently ignored other species’ instinctive need to be autonomous.
I am no master animal trainer and do not play one on TV. I train pet dogs and service dogs and have begun to venture into competition, at one point I specialized in rehabbing aggressive and reactive dogs. I have trained various common pet animals in occasionally unconventional ways to do things that make life easier for the both of us, but I don’t claim to be anything special, because what I’m doing is not all that special. It is, however, uncommon for people to make these considerations with their pets and then they call in someone like me to fix a problem that didn’t need to start in the first place.
An example being: frequently on this website and others, the solution for convincing a biting snake not to bite you is to hold it still until it stops biting you. The snake will learn that biting you does not produce the desired result (you letting the snake go or putting it back in its cage) and thus will eventually stop biting you when you pick it up.
In the dog training world, we call this flooding and learned helplessness. It “works” because it produces what we wanted it to. The snake no longer bites when you pick it up. But it failed to address the root of the problem, and frequently if regular handling is not maintained the snake will return to biting you every time you touch it. The snake had learned that there was nothing it could do in order to make you stop doing what it didn’t like, and so had learned that it was helpless against the much larger human. The snake in this situation still doesn’t really want to be handled, it is merely tolerating it because it sees no other option.
While snakes have a much more primitive brain than dogs and thus a much more limited scope of emotions, aggression and violence are always expensive measures to use and thus are frequently considered last resort measures to make an unpleasant situation stop. They are costly in body resources- they take large amounts of energy, stress, and time to resolve, and wounds obtained from violence can become deadly with infection or severity. As a result, a bite should always indicate that whatever you are doing is so unpleasant to the animal you’re doing it to that they’re willing to risk their life in order to make you stop. The common pet snake knows it cannot win against an animal as large as a human. It is hoping you have not come to the same realization, and will not call its bluff.
This creates a problem. Like with dogs, backing off from a situation that is required after a bite will teach the snake that all they have to do to get you to leave them alone is to bite you. If I need to trim my dog’s nails, give him a bath, brush him, or have him examined by a vet, sure I could put him in a muzzle and force him to do it anyway, but it is counter-intuitive to teach him that all he has to do is bite me in order to get out of doing those things he may consider unpleasant. I need to be able to handle my snakes. This is not negotiable, just like the above things I do with my dogs are not negotiable. If I cannot handle them, I cannot check them for injury, disease, or distress. Backing off because my snake, or dog, has threatened to bite me is thus not a viable option. I must be able to complete the task, and the animal in question must let me.
Dogs, by comparison, are relatively easy to convince in this problem. I need to be able to do my dog’s nails. If I give him amazing treats on a good reward schedule, shower him with praise, listen to his body language to give him a chance to calm down and destress before pressing on, and remove my own negative emotions from the equation, he will learn to let me do his nails and even offer the position required for the task within a relatively short amount of time. He does not have to like having his nails done, but I can convince him to like he benefits he gets out of it. Cats and birds and small mammal pets like ferrets, rabbits, and rodents may be slower, but follow much the same way.
I can’t give a snake a treat. That’s not really how snake digestive systems work. I can’t give them a toy. I can’t give them praise. The subtleties of snake body language are much harder to read due to a lack of eyelids, ears, and limbs. Dogs, cats, birds, ferrets, all of these are social creatures that practice social bonding and feel an emotion similar to love (in the dog’s case, actually do feel love). Snakes are not social creatures and their brain is not capable of producing the chemicals involved in the emotion we call love. I cannot convince a snake to love me or to like being handled. That is not something their biology is able to do. Does that mean I have to rely on flooding and learned helplessness in order to get them to let me handle them?
I keep stressy species. While all reptiles are more than capable of stressing themselves to death, my current list of exotic pets includes a special needs ball python with a severe neurological condition, a brazilian rainbow boa specifically purchased from someone who breeds minimally stressy snakes because he got tired of the species’ reputation for being bitey assholes, and a dwarf bci locality (read: like a subspecies, but not different enough to get their own scientific name) known for being defensive bitey assholes. Previously, I had a special needs corn snake that was a defensive bitey asshole, an amazon tree boa that was remarkably handleable despite the species’ reputation for being aggressive and defensive bitey angry assholes, and a few foster ball pythons that came from neglect situations and had never been handled before leading to them being defensive bitey assholes. Stress is common in situations where aggression or violence is utilized, even if it is being utilized by the animal and not the human. If the stress from moving can kill my beloved ATB Hydra, why would I intentionally expose him to situations where he would feel required to use violence again and again until he learned that that was not a way out of the situation?
I did not flood my snakes. I hold them. They do not bite me. It has been a long time since any of them have even struck at me, and the majority of the bites and strikes I have received have been from when I was learning the snake in front of me or from me intentionally ignoring their body language and handling them a way I knew they didn’t like for whatever reason. Snakes do not bite without cause. Whether you, a human, can see that cause or not, snakes do not bite because they are vindictive or mean. As said, their brains are far too primitive to feel such complex emotions. Even wild snakes do not bite without provocation- whether you intentionally provoked them or not does not matter, simply whether they felt provoked enough to need to defend themselves possibly with their lives.
Vision came to me unsure of my intentions and of whether I could be considered safe. He certainly didn’t believe I should be picking him up. At two months old, the world is a scary place to a baby snake where nearly everything is bigger than you and nearly everything wants to kill or eat you. I do not blame him for doubting the warm giant cooing over him with grabby hands. To him, I’m sure I am some baffling mixture of hawk, bear, and wild canine. All of these things readily kill and eat snakes, all of these things may be persuaded to not kill and eat this particular snake if he bites them.
Instead of picking him up and allowing him to spend precious resources stressing himself to the point of repeatedly biting me- which hurts, by the way, so I don’t really want to be bitten any more than I need to be- I allowed him to show me things about him. I let him show me what he does when he’s nervous, when he doesn’t want to be bothered. I let him show me what he does when he’s curious and feels like investigating what’s in front of him. I let him show me how he does and does not like to be touched. Like many snakes, he seems to enjoy being scratched lightly under the chin. Like many snakes, he doesn’t seem to appreciate being tickled on the stomach. He prefers to create a “foot” about 2/3 down his body and use it as an anchored perch when exploring my hands. He does not want his tail to be touched. When he is nervous or unsure of potential danger, he will retract and coil himself into a loose ball. If pressed before he recovers, he will “expand” the “ball” quickly and vocalize. If he continues to be pressured, he will threaten to bite and will begin to try. If he is allowed to relax, he will recreate his “foot” and resume quietly investigating his surroundings.
Today, I took the lid off of his enclosure and lifted him out without a fuss. While this is not a first- we accomplished this task about 4 weeks in- only in the past few weeks has he not immediately retracted into his loose ball and required me to wait a few minutes for him to relax before touching him. Instead, he immediately made his “foot” and began to investigate, leaned against my finger as I scratched his chin, and maintained his confidence throughout the time I handled him. Sure, I could possibly get a similar result through the first method of flooding and teaching him that he is helpless against me, but I don’t need to. I can get a confident content snake that is not only tolerating my handling but also showing curiosity and intelligence without forcing him to accept my hands as things he has to deal with in his life.
The people espousing these methods always ask me how I managed to take such nice, interesting pictures of Hydra without bleeding- or joke about how much blood they think I lost inbetween shots- and are always surprised when I tell them that I don’t get bit because I understand a snake’s need for autonomy and allow the snake to tell me their “rules” for being touched and then follow those rules or understand if I break them I will get bit. As a result, I don’t break their rules unless I have to, and thus I don’t get bit unless I have to. This allows me to handle and investigate my snakes, look in their mouths, check their vents and between their scales, touch their heads, and rescue them from fluke accidents such as Quetzal’s injury with his decor without the snake taking their frustrations out on me. It also allows me to take some pretty pictures of them outside or on props without worrying how I will retrieve them without being bitten when I’m done.
Blindfolded, Bound and Gagged (Dylan O’Brien smut)
Summary: Dylan teaches you a lesson
Word count: 4k. (THERE IS NO BACKGROUND PLOT. IT IS SIMPLY 4K OF FILTHY SMUT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)
Warnings: there’s a lot of things I should flag lmao…bondage, blindfolds, gags, overstimulation, vibrators, BDSM, orgasm denial, dirty talk, sir kink, dom!Dyl. Long story short, THIS IS ABSOLUTE FILTH.
A/N: You’re lying if you say this isn’t your wet dream.
Request: This idea just sort of came to me, so I ran with it!
A/N: I honestly am a little shocked I’ve never written Legolas before considering I used to be so in love with him. BETTA LATE THAN NEVER. I hope this turned out okay…I had to do a lot of googling and research for the bits of Elvish, but even then I’m sure it’s not perfect. I’ll put the translations at the bottom. I also got a little, super tiny bit sappy. But hope you enjoy anyways! :) Let me know what you think!
The sorrow in the air was so thick, it was almost difficult to breathe. I scanned the faces of the men around me, dressed in their secondhand armor and some holding weapons that hadn’t seen the light of day in many years. Their expressions were all so forlorn, the looks of men readying to attend their own funeral. The weight of that sorrow felt like a burden. It was only then that I decided to escape, catching Aragorn’s eye from across the room before slipping out into the corridor.
A few minutes later, I found myself in the small, candle-lit chapel. I was surprised to find it nearly empty. Almost as surprised as I was to find myself there in the first place. I hadn’t prayed for many years. Not since I had been a child. Not since my mother and father were alive. I sat in the first pew, closest to the altar. Most of the candles had melted to nothing more than stubs, casting flickering shadows against the stone walls. I wasn’t sure where to begin, what to pray for. Legolas and Aragorn’s argument still rang in my ears. I had never known Legolas to despair, but he wasn’t wrong. 300 against 10,000. Most of them would die, maybe myself among them.
[A/N: HERE IT IS! Final chapter! I haven’t fully revised this so it could be riddled with mistakes however if it is guys I am sorry! Okay so just a warning there is some cheese, proper cheese, I love cheese and after all the angst it needed plenty to make up for it! Hope you guys like it, I’m really nervous that build up has totally not been worth it but it’s not going to get much better than this. I feel like maybe I kinda rushed the ending but-]
Word Count: 1950 [In total guys this entire fic was 11060 words long and took up 22 Word page documents, what the hell?!]
It’s a baby girl kitten. She’s a grey ball of loosely spiky fur and she got a pair of beautiful brown eyes dotted with green specks. (“Just like Iwa-chan.”)
Oikawa has picked her up at an adoption center. It’s love at first sight. Iwa falls in love with the little fluff ball the moment he wakes up to her being shoved right up in his face by Oikawa.
Oikawa names the cat Inori, 祈, which means prayer. It’s Oikawa prayer for Iwa’s health and happiness.
Inori is very much their little princess with a look resembles Iwa’s and a bubbly personality like Oikawa.
Inori loves to rest in Iwa’s lap but prefers Oikawa’s hair when she wants to take a nap.
Inori becomes the big sister in the family when Iwa adopts a samoyed puppy later. (A boy this time.) Iwa names him Yuki, 幸, which means happiness. It’s his wish for more and more coming happiness between him and Oikawa.
The .44 caliber Colt Army was one of the sidearms most commonly issued to the cavalry during the Civil War. This particular pistol, with its ivory grips is a civilian model. This was only one of many options offered by Samuel Colt on this popular weapon. The cap and ball revolvers of the day required loose powder and lead balls or prepared cartridges of paper, foil or even animal hide. The ammunition was rammed into each chamber by the loading lever below the barrel. The Colt and its holster are resting on a Navajo style saddle blanket.
“We didn’t grow up with the sense that where we were was where we were gonna be. We grew up with the sense that where we were almost didn’t matter, because we will be becoming something greater.”
His eyes brightened up when he said this.
And he has a net worth of $260,000,000 and has acted in 37 movies.
Here are some quotes that show why he has been so successful!
“Being Realistic is The Most Common Path to Mediocrity.”
“There’s a flow to the Universe, you know, that I’ve learned to just flow with it.”
“Stop letting so many people who do so little for you control so much of your mind, feelings and emotions.”
“If you’re not making someone else’s life better, then you’re wasting your time. Your life will become better by making other lives better.”
- There’s a pattern in these quotes.
-Breadcrumbs of success.
- Universal law
- The idea of controlling your own mind and emotions.
- Putting out good vibes.
Most things that you hear about the Law of Attraction sound cliche, or like it’s a magic pill that brings you instant results…
How many times have you wanted an instant change? A quick fix?
That’s because a number of people believe that there’s some secret to success that only so called “special” people know about.
I can go on and on about this…
But the way to success is within us all. You don’t have to reinvent the wheel. Just study the model that people have used, and then apply it in your own way. You have to do the work, but the process will teach you how to use the correct leverage in positive and healthy ways.
Another of Will Smith’s quotes is:
“The only thing that I see that is distinctly different about me is I’m not afraid to die on a treadmill. I will not be out-worked, period. You might have more talent than me, you might be smarter than me, you might be sexier than me, you might be all of those things you got it on me in nine categories. But if we get on the treadmill together, there’s two things: You’re getting off first, or I’m going to die. It’s really that simple, right?”
“You’re not going to out-work me. It’s such a simple, basic concept. The guy who is willing to hustle the most is going to be the guy that just gets that loose ball. The majority of people who aren’t getting the places they want or aren’t achieving the things that they want in this business is strictly based on hustle. It’s strictly based on being out-worked; it’s strictly based on missing crucial opportunities. I say all the time if you stay ready, you ain’t gotta get ready.”
The only thing that I see that is distinctly different about me is I’m not afraid to die on a treadmill. I will not be out-worked, period. You might have more talent than me, you might be smarter than me, you might be sexier than me, you might be all of those things you got it on me in nine categories. But if we get on the treadmill together, there’s two things: You’re getting off first, or I’m going to die. It’s really that simple, right?
You’re not going to out-work me. It’s such a simple, basic concept. The guy who is willing to hustle the most is going to be the guy that just gets that loose ball. The majority of people who aren’t getting the places they want or aren’t achieving the things that they want in this business is strictly based on hustle. It’s strictly based on being out-worked; it’s strictly based on missing crucial opportunities. I say all the time if you stay ready, you ain’t gotta get ready.
Request: Peter and Stark!reader (they’re older I sh like early twenties) where the reader finds out she’s pregnant and before she can say anything vision blurts it out and peter kind of freaks out and tony is like I’m going to kill you but in like a protective dad way
Word Count: 699
Warnings: I suck at writing pregnancy fics I am so sorry y’all. Also, in this fic, Peter and reader are in their twenties. Mid or early or late is up to you.
Tagging: @insideoflit (Let me know if any of you want to be tagged in any of my fics!)
A/N: Hey! I’m back to writing for this blog after a much needed and much enjoyed break. Thanks so much for you all who understood and waited for me to get back this.
Tony’s eyebrows shoot up so high you were pretty sure they were going to fly right off of his forehead. His mouth falls open as he stumbles over his words, his palms beginning to sweat as his hands ball into loose fists. It felt as if the air had been punched out of him by a certain Hulk and a certain Thor. Tony hadn’t felt this type of fear before. It was a mixture of being afraid and of being nervous for his little girl. You weren’t his daughter biologically but you were still nonetheless his daughter.
“You’re pregnant?” Tony’s jaw clenches as you nod your head in reply. He knew you didn’t mean to say it like that and you were probably nervous beyond words but he couldn’t exactly help what he was feeling.
“Tony’s going to kill me,” Peter mumbled into your ear, stepping away from Tony. “He’s going to pin my head to a wall and throw darts at it. He’ll aim for my eyes, I’m sure.”
“Damn right I’ll have your head on a wall. You got her pregnant! And-and you’re both still in your twenties and-and so young! You should’ve wrapped it before you-” Tony cut himself off, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Peter gulped, not meaning for Tony to have heard him.
“Tony, it’s not all his fault. I was just as careless.” You frown at your choice of words, sighing before speaking again. “I mean, I’m just as responsible as he is. Carelessness had nothing to do with it. We used protection but something must’ve gone wrong.”
“I can’t believe it,” Tony groans. “You’re pregnant. There’s a baby in you. You’re having a baby before me.”
“I thought you told me you didn’t want a child–”
“That’s beside the point, Y/N.” Tony rolls his eyes, stepping into Peter so that their chests are barely touching. Peter was shorter than Tony so it was more like his chest was barely touching Peter’s face.
“I’m so-I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter stutters. His hands shake at his sides and he was pretty sure he was sweating through his shirt and his hoodie. He knew there wasn’t much he could do to make the situation between him and Tony any better but he couldn’t stay silent.
“Sorry isn’t going to do anything, Parker. Just be more careful with her, yeah? I can’t have you being irresponsible as it is,” Tony grumbled, his hand finding itself squeezing Peter’s shoulder “So, of course, I can’t have you being irresponsible with Y/N.”
“I understand, Tony-”
“It’s Mr. Stark to you, Spider-Boy,” Tony interrupted. “You may be the father of my favourite girl’s unborn child but we still aren’t at first name basis.”
“Oh, uh.” Peter blinked. “Sorry. I understand, Mr.Stark.”
You stay silent as the two of them have their exchange, nibbling gently on your bottom lip. Yes, it did bother you that Tony and Peter were having this conversation right in front of you, all the while ignoring your presence but you decided against doing anything about it.
“Good. That means smoking anywhere ne-”
“I don’t smoke as it is, Mr.Stark. There will be zero cigarette smoke anywhere near our baby.” Peter does a little salute with his fingers, bouncing up once on his toes.
“No more sex for at least another year,” Tony says. His expression is blank and untelling as he steps once more into Peter. “And I mean that.”
“Tony!” You huff, gently pulling him back from your boyfriend. “It’s okay. We may be young but we are old enough to handle ourselves.”
Tony holds himself back from making a comment he knew would be a smart-ass thing to say. With a sigh, he pulls you into a tense embrace. He places a hand on the back of your head and gently ruffles your hair, glancing over your shoulder and giving a small nod to Peter.
Peter understands exactly what Tony was trying to say to him despite not having said anything at all. You pull away from Tony and towards Peter, letting him wrap his arms around your body. He smiles, placing his hands softly over your stomach.
A/N: This is for @cliffwoes and @cliffovevo‘s blurb night! I’m in love with the concept of best friend!Calum and I’ve been feeling emotional for the past few days so this baby was born! I hope you enjoy it! (I also use a part of a quote in a section of dialogue!)
The moment you see Calum, face puffy with eyes leaking droplets of water, standing outside your apartment, your heart skips a beat.
“What happened? Are you okay?!” You ask, alarmed at his bedraggled appearance. Your best friend doesn’t say anything, merely walks inside your home and makes himself comfortable in your bedroom.
Following him, you watch as Calum collapses onto your bed and curls into a tight ball - shorts loose with his tank top askew - providing a perfect view of his stiff collarbones.
“Cal? Talk to me!”
You plod across the floor before clambering on your bed, facing him and reaching across to tug at his arm. The gentle sounds of his violent tears sadden you: you can never bear to listen to anyone being in pain, let alone the one person who’s always been there for you.
Silence ensues, the comforting circles you’re pressing into his skin seeming to do nothing.
“Please, I’m worried,” You whimper, beginning to grow scared that something serious could have happened.
Calum’s gaze slowly drifts up, focusing on your face. The red lines blurring his eyes send a pang through your heart, pain strewn so delicately through his pupils it takes your breath away.
Johnlock Ficlet: In Which John Walks Into the Bathroom and Sherlock Didn’t Lock the Door And is In the Bathtub and (apparently) Obliviously Talks At John like “oh hi I think moriarty’s planning this next” But John is Too High-Key Flustered to Do Anything Except Internally Scream
John stood in the middle of the kitchen, flipping through mail. “You’ve got three-”
“Details,” Sherlock interrupted, eyes glued to his laptop screen.
paused, pursed his lips, creased his forehead, and tore open the first
one. His eyes flicked back to Sherlock, letting the half-way pulled out
letter slip back into its envelope. “Are you sure you don’t want to-”
Sherlock glanced at John just long enough for John to notice the
sideways flick of attention. “The cases, they have so much information
carried on a single envelope. It’s wasting my…” he gestured at his
hair, searching for words, “my… head space. Unless you read it to me.
The interesting ones.”
John stared at him for a moment. Head space?
It had been barely a couple months since moving into 221B, and he still
hadn’t gotten used to Sherlock Holmes. Sliding the letter out of its
envelope, he muttered, “Alright.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t done this
before. But the rapid blinking Sherlock performed while thinking of his
next word had thrown him off guard. Sometimes John wondered exactly how
much of his head space Sherlock had unwittingly claimed. All
those bizarre case requests John had read out to him, all the rules he’d
memorized to keep himself sane (don’t drink the “tea” in the fridge,
don’t bother asking about the body parts, etc), all the times Sherlock
had whipped off his scarf with his muscles clenched, coat billowing
behind him as he ran…
“Well?” Sherlock said, giving John his full attention for once. Right. The letter.
unfolded it, skimming over the contents. Would Sherlock find this one
interesting? He never could tell. Not quite meeting his green-grey-blue
eyes, John said, “Something about a dog. A drowned dog that… swallowed
a wedding ring?”
Sherlock shook his head, eyes rolling. “The sister did it on purpose. Next.”
Sometimes John wanted to ask; if the case was so easy, why didn’t he just send them a quick reply? But this was Sherlock he was talking about. Normal decency didn’t seem to ever cross his mind.
He opened the next envelope. “Oh, that’s odd.”
Sherlock jumped out of his chair, snatching the letter out of his hand. The paper was empty.
held it up to his face in the direction of the lamp. “Either a child
sent me something in invisible ink, or things are about to get very very
“Interesting as in deadly?” John asked.
“Ooh, maybe,” Sherlock replied, throwing a little grinch-smile in John’s direction.
quite realizing it, John’s heartbeat sped up. Nothing like a bit of
danger to get his mind off of things. This must have been what kept them
together, at 221B. The part of themselves that leaned into danger instead of flinching away from it.
he knew it, Sherlock was rushing off to get lemon juice and the other
usual invisible-ink detectors. He also grabbed random things on his way
by, including John’s phone and a tube of lipstick – a clue from an old
case. John heard him sit down in the kitchen with his feet on the chair.
Bemused, he followed Sherlock into the kitchen. “What’s interesting? You’ve thrown out dozens of empty papers before.”
“Moriarty,” Sherlock breathed, leaning into the paper with a microscope. “Not sure, but possible. Has signs of his handiwork.”
breath caught. That lunatic from the pool? Maybe Sherlock’s inclination
to lean into danger was stronger than his. Or maybe he was just an
idiot. Even so, he walked up to the kitchen table and leaned in over
Sherlock’s shoulder. “What do you think it’s about?”
didn’t seem to hear him. John frowned. Better to give him space to think
than endure Sherlock’s irritation over being brought out of his
John heard movement in the kitchen and stood up, making his way towards the noise.
“What?” John asked. The “letter” was crumpled up into a loose ball on the table, among scattered objects.
Sherlock turned to face John, seething. “That woman from the store! Called me rude… let me see the envelope.”
strode into the living room and brought it back, turning it over in his
hands. “Butterfly stamp. Children colored on it, didn’t have any other
envelopes to use. Idiot! It’s just a prank, of course it’s a prank…”
John couldn’t help himself from smirking.
“What?” Sherlock snapped, before storming out of the room. A second later, he heard the bathroom door close.
smirking, he walked back into the living room to look at job offers
again. Lately Sherlock had taken to spending inordinate amounts of time
in the shower or the bath. Helped him think, he claimed. However true
that might be, seeing Sherlock in the bath wouldn’t help John
think straight. His mind flicked back to a greek sculpture he’d seen at a
museum he’d visited with a date once. It had borne such a resemblance
to Sherlock’s face that he had to stare and move on quickly at the same
time, before the date could notice he was blushing. The mere thought of
it made his cheeks feel warm, even now. Seeing your flatmate depicted
naked in excruciatingly detailed marble would do that to anyone, he
supposed. A bit awkward, a bit silly. A bit… surprising. He halted
that line of thought abruptly, forcing himself to focus on the job
He could hear running water. A bath, then.
Not a shower. Some part of him had kept track, based on the hypothesis
that showers were for short problems, and baths were for long ones.
Sherlock’s scientist-mind must have rubbed off on him. John took a deep
breath. It’s not the thought of adventure that sends your heart racing…
(this is the ½ or 1/3 mark. Keep reading for more frustrating johnlock tension)
Kylo and Rey are fighting on yet another planet. At the most inopportune moment, an animal decides these two are now its parents.
this is so fucking weird it’s like part crack part serious. tw for some violence and discussion of killing an animal.
The Millennium Falcon had a stowaway. But it wasn’t R2 or Chewie or even Finn, miraculously recovered from his wound. That would have been reasonable.
No, it was a kriffing. Baby. Rathtar.
The little monster flopped out of a damaged access port of the Falcon’s access port as Kylo and Rey dueled against the side of the hull. Neither of them noticed it at first, but they would come to wonder how it survived as long as it did before inspecting the damage more closely and seeing it had eaten a whole host of ancient wiring with its semi-acidic saliva.
There was a sort of weird nostalgia to battling him in snow again, though this time she was better dressed and the snow was much thicker thanks to Hoth’s climate. Rey’s less than graceful landing of the ship after overshooting the ancient rebel base’s hangar had left her an eyesore on the snowy landscape, easy prey for her pursuer. They drew their lightsabers and fought mindlessly the minute Kylo landed.
A fireplace, bonfire, cauldron, or other safe place to burn the cardboard
Cast a strong protective circle around yourself and all participants before you begin.
Take a piece of light-weight cardboard and draw images and write words on it to represent the evils that you wish to bind. For example, draw a man with an X crossing out his heart to show it is closed, write words like “Greed”, “Irresponsibility”, “Disrespect”, etc. Then crumple the cardboard up into a loose ball.
Take a piece of black yarn and wind it around the cardboard twenty one times. With each time you loop the string around the cardboard, say one line of the following chant…
With the thread of the crimes of your own design I bind your evil Three times seven times.
I bind you from Behind I bind you from Before That you’ll hurt my people never ever more
I bind you from the Left I bind you from the Right I bind you by Day And I bind you by Night.
I bind you from Below I bind you from Above That you may ever know The laws of Life and Love
I bind you with your own Good conscience Within And so let this magic Unfold And spin….
Tie off the ends of the yarn with three sturdy knots to seal the spell. When done with this, burn the wrapped images and words in a loud, strong, crackling fire. Chant these words until it is thoroughly burned:
Goddess of darkest night Send our troubles all to flight Burn them in thy sacred fires And replace them with our hearts’ desires!
Once the image is burned and all negativity removed, do a positive visualization to replace it. For example, visualize people laughing and dancing in rainbows, etc.
Everything Under the Moon
Found in, Witches of the Craft.com
Posted by, lady of the abyss
Warnings: language, one
ass grab but it was an accident, steve rogers talking to sam should be a
warning, the Steve Roger T-Shirt™.
Summary: While trying to master a
soccer move, you get your ball stuck in a nearby tree. Luckily, a nice stranger
was willing to help you try and get it down. Unluckily, the stranger was almost
A/N: have I mentioned how much I love
both steve rogers and sam wilson. I’ll probably write something for him after
this and the series.
Thank you so so so so much to @grubsnuggle , @miiraculous-texts , @hchano , and @alya-bug for organizing this event! Please send them lots of love!
“You know I want to kiss you now, right?” Nino asked, just as Chat was about to leave and return to the akuma fight. His voice was so casual, the hero almost missed the meaning entirely.
Chat paused for a moment.
BrOverwatch, in the distance, was doing a very bad impression of D. Va. Ladybug would probably be fine.
He turned back to his friend, with a polite smile. “And why would that be, Nino?”
The boy gestured down to the street, where Doomfist’s crater remained. “You saved my life? Doesn’t that deserve some kind of reward?” Nino inched closer to the leather-clad hero.
“Being a hero of Paris is it’s own reward.” Chat cleared his throat, stammering awkwardly.
It was Nino. Adrien had never experienced this side of Nino before. The boy he knew fumbled over Marinette at the zoo. He couldn’t keep still when Alya was in the room. He lacked the poise to truly argue with Chloe.
Adrien had seem him trip and falter when it came to the girls in their high school class, but now, Nino Lahiffe was smooth. He stood confidently on the roof, sun bouncing off his grinning face as he looked at his hero. It was almost deadly.
Nino moved closer to him, and raised his eyebrows when he noticed Chat’s flushed cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, not sounding sorry in the slightest, though he still sounded kind, “I didn’t mean to fluster you.”
Chat shook his head. “I-I’m not flustered.”
Nino flicked a finger across Chat’s bell, making it jingle between the two of them. “Prove it.”
Chat’s ears drew back as he pulled Nino by the t-shirt collar. Slamming his lips into his abruptly, Nino let out a small yelp, but they both quickly fell into a sweet rhythm. First kisses between friends often started out awkward and strange, but soon, it was pleasant.
Nino pulled away first, and Chat let out a small breath. “I’m sorry,” Chat told him. “I mean-ah, you really shouldn’t kiss superheroes, Nino. I shouldn’t have-”
“It’s fine,” Nino assured him, his hands curling into loose balls against Chat’s chest.
It was at this point that Chat realized his arms were around Nino, and they were pressed against each other.
He pulled away from Nino. This was not how you keep your friends safe from supervillains and monsters. “I’ll see you around?”
Nino shook his head, “Come over to my place, tonight.”
Adrien, who was Nino’s roommate, frowned. “Ah, hmm. Tempting,” Chat somehow managed to reply.
“To temptation,” Nino pecked him on the lips one last time. “Give in to temptation.”
Well. Chat Noir knew that that wasn’t going to be the last time.