0.1 100% het VPI axanthic 66% pos het genetic stripe for sale. $75+ shipping.
1. Proof of appropriate enclosure and knowledge of ball python care required. I hold the right to ask husbandry questions and to request photos of the habitat as part of the approval process. 2. Must
be 18 years or older to purchase. 3. Must be in the lower 48 United States. Due to expenses I am unable to ship out of
the country. 4. Shipping is additional. Purchaser must have a home address or access to a fedex hub. I will not ship to P.O. boxes. 5. All payments must be completed through Paypal.
All snakes are sex and genetics guaranteed and will arrive with a certificate stating genetics (picture of parents, locked, on eggs, and clutch), hatch date, feeding
information (frequency, size, species), and parentage.
available on request. Also found in in the #sh7 tag.
Do This: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or as little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, art, vids, giftsets, whatever.
tagged by @jmeelee thanks, boo! i need this motivation
a smallpox fic, which was intended to be a little more serious in tone, which means i lost my feel for it early on. i don’t even feel like posting an excerpt from it. i WILL finish it, when i’m not being such a moody baby.
an el dorado au, which is also an au at the start of s2, where they say fuck it to capturing the warship, run inland, and accidentally become gods. i’m having a lot of fun with this one, because i love the movie dearly, but also because the movie goes into NO detail about the culture, and i’m on an American Gods kick right now and a bitch minored in religion in my undergrad, so i am planning on having some FUN with making up my own mythology.
His first thought when his vision clears – and Flint will never, ever admit this until his dying day, but his very first thought is how nice Silver’s face looks when he’s lit up by the reflection of the sun hitting a city of gold.
His second thought, then, is: a city of fuckinggold.
Inlaid in the stones of every building, patching the cracks in every road, twisting up the trunks of every tree, adorning the hands and feet and hair of every curious citizen lining the river’s edge, watching their approach – all shining and shimmering with fucking gold.
A pink bird sails overhead, with a wingspan larger than Flint is tall, and the thing is so impossibly huge but Flint finds it easier, for the moment, to look at it instead of…everything else. He watches it helplessly, as it flies high over the lush trees, over the – fuck – gold-plated rooftops, before it swoops low towards the river. Flint watches, and then jerks back in shock when his eye catches the giant fucking purple fish swimming benignly beneath the ship, tiger-striped, three-eyed, bigger than any house on shore.
“So,” Silver says faintly. “Clearly. This, ah. This isn’t a hallucination.”
“Yeah,” Flint says.
“Right. Because, clearly. We just. Died. At some point. We’re both already dead.”
“And this is – Heaven?” Silver turns to him, frowning. “Does that seem right to you?”