#goose rump

[craigslisthorses]

honestly what is this

[horsesarecreatures]

Prince BEC - Irish Cob x Friesian

[ceruleanvulpine]

huge respect to @myxinidaes for reblogging that post with 100 birds

[justporo]

Who's the goose... (2)

...that's on the loose? GOOSETARION! The adventures of Astarion being turned into a goose continue. Will he behave or annoy someone so much that his delicate goose neck will be in danger?

PART 1 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: So, here we are... with the second part to this unhinged little idea - I had a lot of fun writing this, although if I gotta write someone honking one more time... Well, I'd do it... This beautiful BEAUTIFUL artwork is once provided by the wonderful, beautiful and incredibly talented @azaani-art (you bless us, love! Thank you for allowing me to use this!). And also @the-littlest-raindrop - if you wanna read you'll know why I tagged you! Please all enjoy! I'm excited to hear what you all think!

Pairing: Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)

Rating: Still stupid

Warnings: ankles in danger (you guys didn't think I'd be serious about this, right?)

Wordcount: 5k

~~~

The next morning the whole group sat around the giant wooden table in the main room of the inn. You were pretty sure you looked like you had slept in the gutter last night.

Beside you sat the goose, craning its neck at everyone at the table but for once pleasantly un-hoking. Even Goosetarion must have realised that honking the house down at this time of day would have probably gotten him his neck wrung faster than he could have jumped off the bench and waddled away. Or maybe it was lingering humiliation from when he had tried several times to jump up on the bench, fluttering his wings as if desperately trying to take flight. It had taken several more tries – and serious hissing from his side to bar you from just lifting him up onto the bench. And even when the goose had managed to get a high enough jump, it had face-planted onto the table nearly knocking itself out because it hadn’t anticipated the physics of the unfamiliarly long neck.

The others had to make a serious effort to not burst out laughing, but the violent threat in Goosetarion’s red eyes had shut them up quickly. Nobody really wanted to feel the goose’s wrath – or teeth for that matter.

Now you softly and absent-mindedly petted the animal with strokes from its head down to its back. Trying to make up for his hurting ego. The rump was very busy wiggling again.

You hadn’t slept awfully much last night as could have been expected. Of course, you had taken Goosetarion to your shared room. The staff at the inn had at first protested. But the fact that the others had quickly jumped in to declare the animal your “emotional support goose” and the fact that you really almost had started crying right then and there had been convincing enough to allow the goose in your room. Although you were of course given some serious side-eyes. But you couldn’t care less about people’s opinions at the moment.

You had sat down Astarion in your room, removed your armour and had sat down on the bed, sinking down against the headboard, face buried in your hands. Your feelings had still been very much on the verge of overflowing leaving you in a state of emptiness and tension all at the same time.

Only when you had heard some rumbling and strained croaks did you realise that you kind of had forgotten Goosetarion. But when you had opened your eyes, you already saw how the goose was hopping up on the bedframe and dragging itself up on the mattress with its wings, making what would have possibly been laborious groans normally. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but you were impressed, nonetheless.

Astarion wandered over to where you sat with drawn up legs and then jumped onto your lap without hesitation. Some struggle followed in which the two of you tried to get comfortable on the bed. Which resulted in you getting whacked in the face by Goosetarion’s splayed wings several times and him face-planting onto your chest about an equal amount of times while trying to move around, losing balance.

Finally, when you had all settled down, Goosetarion had been all cosied up on your lap and made a small honk while looking at you.

You had started stroking him again.

“I’m so sorry this happened, Astarion, but to be honest, you really had it coming.”

“Honk!?”

“Because you don’t just go around trying to steal from anyone who looks at you funny!”

“Honk!”

“Let’s just… hope this will all be over soon. I promise I’ll protect you and take care of you – no matter what.” You had embraced the goose, burying your face in its feathers for a moment and deeply wished that soon it would be your vampire again.

Goosetarion had carefully placed his small head on your shoulder and given a very soft little honk. The weight on your shoulder had been so light it had barely been noticeable at all.

And that is how you had slipped into your dreams sometime: Sitting up against the headboard, goose on your lap. Your head had fallen back in an awkward angle that probably hadn’t been healthy for your neck. And the goose had been mirroring you with its long neck and head fallen back on your shoulder. Surely a sleeping position no real goose had ever occupied.

But now you sat at the inn table having breakfast and talked with the others about what your plans for the day were. It was to be more walking and talking to people.

You were rather relieved because that meant that you wouldn’t have to think too much about how to take care of the goose. You’d just have him tag along and try your best to stop him from biting anyone’s ankles or getting his neck twisted.

The group set off once everyone had finished eating. You swung your legs over and got up. Astarion eagerly jumped down from the bench and honked at you demandingly, immediately earning a hush from Gale and a tchk from Lae’zel. The goose wasn’t bothered by it, just kept looking at you, now spreading its wings a little. He honked again. It was obvious he wanted to be carried and was very demanding about it.

“Is that your definition of asking nicely to be lifted up? Because if yes, you need to work on your attitude”, you scolded him while deep down you were surprised how the vampire so blatantly dared to hold on to his desire to be petty and sassy.

Another honk – challenging now. The goose glowered at you, for lack of a better description, and you glowered back.

Then you just walked off, following the others which had already left the inn. And you were swift. Leaving no choice to the goose but having to waddle behind you as fast as his rubbery feet would go or risk being left behind.

You gave in pretty quickly afterwards. And if only because Lae’zel was almost already losing her mind about how slow you were going to be with the goose walking beside you.

Goosetarion willingly and humbly let himself be lifted and carried around then without another complaint. Actually, you got the feeling he was getting a bit too used to that already.

“Enjoying the luxury of being carried around by your loved one, Astarion?”, Halsin asked the goose a while after you had left the inn and walked around the city. Goosetarion had stretched out his head and looked at his surroundings curiously and cautiously from his privileged position.

At the question the goose’s head – which was comically staying in place despite the walking movements – had swung around and the question had been answered with a short honk that you could only describe as sassy. Then Goosetarion had angled his head in a way that was way too much Astarion in nature than should have been possible. The druid laughed while you saw that Gale shook his head disapprovingly.

You squeezed the goose just a little: “Well, don’t get used to it, Astarion, this is a once in a lifetime occurrence.”

In reply you got a honk that sounded like a pout.

The first half of the day then was spent just like yesterday: tiresomely walking around, trying to strike up conversations with strangers to get some information without being too suspicious. Which was kind of a challenge when you were carrying around a goose that had to comment on almost everything despite no one fully knowing what it wanted to say.

Around noon you decided to take a break. You picked out what seemed to be a market place in full swing and settled down around the fountain in the middle. Each and every one of you had grabbed something from the market stalls to eat – pies, fruit, Karlach had even gone for a portion of spit roast.

At one of the stalls a huge-bellied man in a very grimy apron had way to keenly asked for how much you would sell the goose. Goosetarion’s head had yanked straight upwards, and he had immediately started to scream bloody murder (in goose) while you had turned him away in your arms – away from this shady looking merchant. Panic immediately had shot through you and your eyes had widened as you yanked the goose away and as far out of reach as possible.

“The goose is not for sale”, you had screamed hysterically in response.

“Unfortunate, how much good does it do if you’re only carrying it around? You all a bunch of leaf-eaters or what? This could be a nice dinner for my whole family!”, the man had yapped, obviously angry by your unwillingness to negotiate. You’d had your doubts about the family claim. Especially since you had seen the very suspicious looking dishes he seemingly had had to offer at his stall. They had all looked rank and the longer you’d stood there you’d also smelled their foulness. You hadn’t even dared to think about how old these must be.

“Istik, the bird is not for sale!”, Lae’zel had entered the conversation and drawn a dagger, taking a threatening step towards the huge man.

The other companions each all had taken up readied stances too – hands not too casually wandering to their weapons and stepping in front of you and Goosetarion in protection.

And thankfully, it had been left at that. The man lifting up his hands in defence as he had mumbled something incoherent and turned around again. Astarion had honked once more in victory (as if he had contributed to anything) and waved his head that would have normally swept his white curls back. As a goose it had just looked a bit delusional.

Now you sat on the cobblestone ground with Goosetarion on your lap. You had already gotten into a routine it seemed, it was awkwardly comforting. But somewhen when you were still nibbling on some apples and cheese, the goose wiggled off your lap. It seemed he was bored by just sitting around. Or maybe it was also that all of the group happily munching away had made him think of his own hunger that he was currently unable to satisfy.

He eyed the rim of the fountain suspiciously while everyone was busy chatting and eating. Only out of the corner of your eye did you see how he spread out his wings, his neck stretched out and started swinging – almost like a cat preparing to make a big leap somewhere.

Was he… was he trying to fly?

The goose made a leap, desperately flapped its wings and just for a tiny moment actually seemed to gain some air. But the moment passed as soon as it began and Goosetarion full on crashed into Lae’zel who had just gotten back from also buying a portion of spitroast. The githyanki had only just sat down when the goose fell onto her, almost causing her to drop her food.

Lae’zel immediately had her dagger out that - not so long ago- had been used to protect the same goose it was threatening now. The githyanki cussed out the animal that darted back to the safety of your lap much faster than you could have imagined. With desperate honking the goose jumped on your lap and tried to even climb up onto your shoulders. Lae’zel was still cursing and stepping closer, dagger in hand.

“Astarion! Lae’zel!”, you both called them out.

Goosetarion gave self-righteous honk while the fighter reluctantly sheathed her dagger again and went back to her lunch.

“And you are getting off my godsdamned shoulders, you silly goose, you’re too heavy!”, you added with some anger as Goosetarion was just about to figure out an even more privileged position. You shoved him off, causing him to croak in disappointment. And you made a point to ignore the annoying goose for some time after that, joining the conversation of the others – parenting measures.

So, Goosetarion got bored again with simply sitting around, waiting for you lot to get going again. He started to waddle around you and the other companions – as if he was deep in thought and tried to sort them out by wandering back and forth.

At one point a small child came by and interrupted him by pointing at him, loudly screaming “DUCKY” and then toddled away again. Goosetarion looked taken aback, honked in confusion and annoyance and then went back to his wandering.

Jaheira and you were discussing an action plan as to where to go next since you had the most knowledge of the city. Actually, Astarion would probably have had valuable input. But getting that input across was a bit difficult at the moment. He tried nonetheless.

The goose loudly honked when Jaheira proposed something and shook his head in a comical way then started to flail around his wings. The flailing and honking really did nothing though to get his point across. When Goosetarion noticed that you were all just staring at him in confusion he even looked like he was attempting to perform a face-palm. Then he gave up with another defeated honk.

The small child from before chose this particular moment when everyone was still staring at the goose to return. It was carrying quite a large piece of bread and from a few feet away hurled it at Goosetarion whose back was towards the child. “FOR DUCKY!”, it screamed while putting all its power into the throw.

Apparently at this young age the child was not yet very proficient with improvised throwing weapons because the throw went absolutely awry. Or rather, the child was in fact a prodigy because the piece of bread hit the goose squarely in the back of its head, making it squeak and lose balance.

The kid just laughed giddily and clapped its hands, hopping up and down. Obviously, it was expecting the “duck” to happily devour the generous offering of food now.

Goosetarion regained his balance quickly and turned around. He was dangerously silent.

You immediately felt the tension radiating from the small body, so you carefully got up. To be ready for whatever.

The goose stared down the child who was still jumping around cheerfully. But the longer “DUCKY” just stared at it, not moving, just with a lot of fury in its tiny red eyes, it realised that something was wrong. The kid calmed down until it looked downright frightened. You saw the child’s bottom lip starting to wobble, ready to start crying at any moment.

And then Goosetarion stormed towards the child, big wings spread wide, neck stretched out as far as possible and screaming as loud as his lungs allowed.

The kid started screaming as well and desperately tried to run away, almost stumbling over its own feet in the attempt to not get assaulted by the vicious goose.

You rushed after the murderous animal, trying to get to it before it could brutalise the child’s ankles. And thankfully Astarion was still not very adept to running around as a goose and you could easily catch up to him and grab him.

He desperately flapped his wings trying to free himself from your arms while still honking like mad. Your ears almost immediately started ringing. Incredible how much anger could fit into such a tiny body.

The child was already long gone and probably traumatised for life by this oversized duck trying to hunt it down. But Goosetarion was still livid even when you picked him up while holding him as far away from you as possible to avoid getting whacked by him again.

“Astarion, will you calm the fuck down?”, you yelled in between angry honking. You yourself were getting more than just annoyed by his behaviour – first he got himself into this pickle and now he caused even more chaos instead of sitting it out. There definitely was something to be said about the chaotic nature of geese and the vampire rogue fitting very well together.

The rest of the group had been watching the scene. Gale had his face buried in his hands. Most of the rest was at least silently snickering while Karlach was just very openly losing it again.

You sat the angry goose down on the stone rim of the fountain in an attempt to force him to calm down. “Time out, Astarion, godsdammit! Either you behave or I might be thinking about selling your poultry ass off, yet!”, you gave him the ultimatum and pointed a finger at him angrily.

He tried to snap at it. You could barely believe the audacity.

“For someone with so much neck to wrangle at the moment you should really be careful about who you piss off, Astarion”, Wyll said who was casually leaning against the fountain.

The goose stared at him. But Wyll just shrugged.

“Are we going to be nice now?”, you asked Goosetarion. The gaze of the red button eyes wandered back to you. The goose gave one more, curt honk, then settled down in a manner that made you think it would have crossed its wings over its chest in annoyed defeat had it been able to do so.

You stared at him angrily for a moment longer then went back to eating your scrawny lunch and talking with the others. You kept talking about different possible ideas on how to go forward. The goose meanwhile was brooding while sitting on the rim of the round fountain.

After a while, it seemed Goosetarion had enough of being well behaved and only listening while not being able to throw in his snide comments. He hopped off the fountain wall, specifically choosing Gale’s lap as a landing pad and making the wizard wince while the goose jumped off him and sauntered away.

He wandered around a little and honked dismissively when you told him to not to go too far. But for the moment you were already so fed up with him you really couldn’t care less.

The group finished up their lunch and decided on their plan. Then you all packed up your things and were ready to leave. And only then did you notice that the goose was nowhere to be found.

“Astarion?”, you asked and looked around. Some of the others had already started walking again.

“Was he not just wandering off towards some of the market stalls?”, Halsin asked. You simply nodded as you started looking around with rising panic.

“Yes, but I… I mean he wouldn’t have just left, right?”, you said as you ran from side to side and hoped to spot a feisty goose somewhere. You screamed his name again in hopes to get a honk in response. But nothing.

“You don’t think he would have wandered off just to spite us, right?”, you asked Halsin again. The druid in the meantime had shouted to the others to stop and come back.

“As much as I think that he likes to get on people’s nerves deliberately… I don’t think he would walk off and jeopardize his own safety – so no”, Shadowheart replied as she came back and caught on to what was happening.

“Well, then where could the little rascal have gone?”, Karlach asked in response.

A thought raced through your mind when she said that, and it hit you as you looked at Karlach.

“The suspicious merchant!”, you exclaimed and panic reached new heights within you.

“Let me just”, Gale started when he connected the dots and immediately started murmuring an incantation. Meanwhile the group had reassembled at the fountain and quickly was informed about what was happening. You stared at the wizard as he had gone silent and impatiently awaited the result of whatever it was he was doing.

The wizard’s eyes had lit up and he was focusing. Then his eyes flashed back to normal, his eyes found yours, worry flashing in them: “I feel him, he’s moving – quickly. And I’m pretty sure that is not goose speed.”

Your eyes widened when Gale confirmed your suspicion. You looked around at the others who mirrored your expression and without out a word you all readied to take on the pursuit.

“This way”, the wizard exclaimed with an outstretched arm, and you all started running.

You ran through the market and then through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, following whatever direction Gale gave you who was quickly out of breath but did his best to carry on.

You were already almost back at Wyrm’s Crossing – the houses a lot smaller and simpler here than the townhouses in the core city. And surely after a few minutes you could make out desperate honking somewhere in front of you. You closed in on the goose-napper!

When it seemed, you were only a corner away you already reached for your dagger – ready to do whatever it might take - but Wyll grabbed your hand. “Let’s be clever about this, let’s not risk that delicate goose neck being broken”, he said to you with a sympathetic glance. Reluctantly, you put back your dagger, at least for the time being.

You peeked around the corner and sure as all Nine Hells you saw the full-bellied man from earlier with a wiggling, struggling and screaming goose under his arms turn another corner. From there on out you followed the villain with some distance to avoid him noticing your little rescue party.

You followed him up to a little free-standing wooden house. It was old and shabby and made you further suspicious of him. What kind of shady business could someone possibly be up to in there?

You saw how he was putting some stuff down in front of the porch of the house, then went inside with the screaming animal still under his arm.

Again, you were ready to just go and immediately tear this house down. You were almost blind with your fear and worry for Astarion and with white-hot rage. But again, Wyll grabbed your arm and made a motion that conveyed that you should walk around the house.

Very impatiently you nodded, and you all snuck around the house which was barely a step up from a shack. From the inside you could actually hear the excessive honking of the goose now. Your heart almost broke and your body was tense with rash panic.

On the rear side of the house was a scruff garden fenced in by a rundown fence and a small wooden stump. It was almost an insult to even call it a garden; it was more of an abandoned plot.

It looked like the stump there was used for chopping wood. An axe was planted in the ground beside it. But there were also dark stains on it that could only make you horridly guess what else might be chopped there.

Wyll – taking over the role as tactician right then and there – made you wait while you were almost ready to scale a wall. At least by the excessive continued honking you still knew that Goosetarion was alive.

Wyll’s patience and insistence paid off because after mere minutes, the man came out of the house again, carrying the goose, some stuff in a basket hanging from his arm and of course – a ginormous cleaver.

Your heart dropped and the goose too now looked just very scared and helpless with how it hung from the goose-napper’s arm. Head hanging low, seemingly having given up all hope of being saved. You drew an arrow and readied at on your bow as Wyll waved the others to get in position.

The man slammed the cleaver into the wooden block and then with both hands placed down the goose on its back. The animal was barely even struggling anymore, just fearfully squeaking and noticing that almost broke your heart completely in these frightful moments.

The villain then ripped out the cleaver from the wooden stump and lifted it up high. You could see the sunlight glint on the shabby silver.

Wyll was still motioning everyone to hold but your strings snapped.

“GET AWAY FROM THE GOOSE!”, you screamed at full lung capacity while loosening the arrow from your bow string simultaneously.

The man hesitated and had only started to turn to you as the arrow struck him squarely in the shoulder holding the cleaver.

He immediately dropped the lifted knife with a guttural scream, letting it fall. It land on the wooden stump again – missing the goose’s head by mere inches. You only saw how the goose’s head dropped back with a small relieved honk, almost as if it had fainted shortly because of the shock.

Then absolute chaos broke out.

You all rushed towards the man who was screaming in pain and was already pulling at the arrow in his shoulder. Your eyes were solely on the goose but then Halsin, Karlach and most of the others overtook you and you lost sight of the animal as your friends stormed onto the man.

Coincidentally, some other shady looking folk came out of the back of the house, alarmed by the commotion. Your suspicions and gut feeling were confirmed then. You didn’t need to know anymore at this point, you had no mercy in your bones for them in this moment.

The thugs engaged your group in combat. In the meantime, you were desperately trying to spot the goose while your friends easily managed to keep the enemies in check.

Finally, you spotted Goosetarion! He had jumped off the wooden stump and seemingly had gotten into the basket the man had been carrying. And obviously the basket had contained some more knives because the goose was now firmly holding one in his beak. Astarion certainly had gotten out of his stupor and was now flailing his wings and threatened everyone with the blade he was carrying – everyone’s ankles were definitely in grave danger. Almost no difference from the usual rogue.

Your group easily fought off the thugs as you sneaked through the chaos of the battle towards the goose to grab and secure it. When the goose saw you, it hopped happily and dropped the knife to honk joyfully at you. You rushed over, kneeled down and wrapped him in your arms as he kept honking and jumping – obviously very relieved that you came to his rescue.

The fight was very quickly turning to your favour. But then as you kept holding onto the poor little animal you heard something else. You couldn’t quite discern it at first, but you heard loud screaming. And as you tried to peek through the legs of everyone around you, you saw some people in armour coming closer.

“City watch”, you whispered to yourself. Goosetarion’s head swung around as well and he gave another honk as he saw what you saw.

“CITY WATCH”, you yelled louder so everyone would hear.

That made almost everyone stall. You quickly got up and wildly gestured at your friends to just get going. So they did – and the fight turned into running from city guards way quicker than you thought it possible.

You didn’t even take one look back at the assailants and the goose-napper. You were just completely happy with running away with your goose soulmate safely in your arms. The adrenaline of the fight and the panic before almost awarding you wings. The only reason you took a look back was to make sure that all of your group were safely with you.

When you had brought what you thought was a safe distance between you and your pursuers, you just sank to the ground with Goosetarion wrapped securely in your arms. You nuzzled your face into his feathers and started crying.

The last day had literally been too much for you. You were in desperate need of a break and some strong alcohol. Someone put their hand on your shoulder as you cried into Astarion’s feathering. You softly slid down against the rough brick wall you were leaning against until you were laying on your back, completely dissolved in your tears. You were still burying your face when even through your closed eyelids you could see a purple flash of light and suddenly the weight laying on top of you was much heavier than before.

You opened your eyes and almost didn’t believe them when you saw Astarion – the real elven Astarion lay on top of you. Reflexively your arms and legs wrapped around the man to hold him as close as possible.

“Oh gods”, was the only thing you managed to mutter as more tears kept coming. The vampire in turn wrapped his arms around you as well. He was panting and coughing – surely a response of straining his voice with all the excessive honking. You rolled around in your forceful hug until you were laying on top of the former goose.

And then you just stayed like this for a long moment while your friends watched out for you and gave you two a moment of just holding each other. Making sure everything was fine and letting the realisation settle in.

You buried your face at Astarion’s shoulder and held him as tightly as your body allowed.

“Hello, my love”, Astarion whispered hoarsely to you as he started to softly caress your shoulders, arms and back.

You sobbed and lifted your head from his shoulder. You saw how he softly smiled at you and that his red eyes were dangerously wet as well as he kept holding onto you.

You didn’t know what to say nor did you trust your mind enough to form coherent sentences yet. You were just unbelievably happy that you had him back with you. So you just stared at the humanoid vampire again and didn’t let go of him.

“Honk?”, Astarion made in an attempt to stop you from crying by cracking a joke. You whacked his arm and pulled him in closer again. Then you whacked his arm again.

“If you’re ever going to honk at me again-“, you started making a threat.

“I’ll happily promise you not to”, Astarion immediately replied, pressed his forehead to yours and cupped your face with one of his hands – graciously reminding you that he was fully back with you again.

And then he pressed his lips to yours, confirming the promise he had just made to you.

Tag list:

Tumblr taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @bloopthebat @dark-star-exe @sleepydang @spooniefulofsugar @shadowserpent4444 @mei-simp @shiningneedlecastle@indestructeible @catching-fire-in-the-wind

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

The Vegan In A Steakhouse

Summary: Steven took you out for dinner but certainly didn't expect to be the main course.

Pairing: sub!Steven Grant x fem!Reader (brief mentions of Marc and Jake)

Word Count: ~ 2k

Content Warning: fluffy restaurant smut 18+!, very public teasing, pet names, Steve being the bottom that he is, soft FemDom reader, a pair of ruined pants, a lot of action under the table, a hint of degradation kink

A/N: There's no way I could write something about Steven Grant without slipping some Egyptian history talk in there

Please consider liking, reblogging and commenting! It means the world to me 🌸💞

Feel free to check out my Masterlist!

Tagging: @littlefreya (sorry for somewhat spamming you, but those Oscar Isaac characters are really doing it for me lately 🙈)

Carefully flipping the pages of the leather-wrapped menu the waiter had handed to Steven and you a couple of minutes ago, you heard the man sitting in front of you huff.

"What's a bloody vegan gonna eat in a steakhouse?" Steven mimicked the insensitive words his pain-in-the-ass boss Donna had thrown at him the other day.

The more Steven had told you about her, the more you disliked that woman for being a condescending twat. She clearly was very narrow-minded when she thought it was a silly idea to take you out to a steakhouse just because he preferred not to eat any animal related products.

"Stupid goose.", Steven mumbled, obviously still agitated by Donna's antics "Look, there's plenty of beautiful salads on the menu and who am I to say no to a very charming serving of chips? They even offer vegan mayonnaise!"

His little fuss elicited a small chuckle from you, because Steven took everything to heart... sometimes more than for his own good necessary.

"Steven..", you lowered the menu so you could peak over it's edge across the table "She's not worth your thoughts and besides, I'm really happy that you took me here."

To support your words, you threw him a warm smile and a small nod.

A sigh fell from his lips as his eyes locked with yours for a moment. He still had that sparkle in his eyes, looking at you as if it was the first time he took you out on a date. Steven had this very special, unadulterated beam of affection whenever he looked at you and even after months of dating him it never failed to make you heart skip a beat.

"I'm glad to hear that, love." He responded, the frown on his forehead softening out.

"Let's just have a good night out. We both deserve that."

Steven nodded at that before he lowered his focus back onto the menu. You were sure to notice a faint flush of red on his cheeks and you bit your tongue to withhold a satisfied grin.

First and foremost he deserved this night out because he'd been such a good boy for you the past weeks.

After getting to know him it didn't take much to figure out that Steven Grant from the gift shop liked to be guided by a bit more of a firm hand and you gladly had taken that place. The both of you complemented each other in that way very well. So, to test your good boy's patience a bit you had proposed the idea of a little chastity to him. To that Steven had excitedly agreed, whereas Marc, let alone Jake weren't the biggest enthusiasts of this game to say the least. Eventually both of them had stopped their little frustration tantrum because, even though you also knew and got along well with Marc and Jake, it was mainly Steven you were dating and the other two came to terms with taking a step back.

After studying your own menu once more, you reached out to a waiter, letting them know you were ready to order. While Steven had decided on a large portion of thick-cut chips with a serving of said vegan mayonnaise in addition to a grilled veggie sandwich, you treated yourself to a rump steak with a salad on the side. You wrapped up your order with the waiter's recommendation for a bottle of red wine since neither of you were big in the wine game.

"Did you know...", It nearly bursted out of Steven as soon as the waiter had left "In ancient Egypt people mainly had only breakfast and dinner? They started their day with bread and beer."

"That doesn't sound all to bad, does it?" You snickered not only at the info given but also at seeing Steven taking the next best opportunity to talk about what he was passionate about. You enjoyed hearing about all that he had to tell. It reminded you of your childhood hyperfixation with ancient Egypt that sadly died along the way. Almost even more you loved seeing his face lighten up whenever he had the chance to just ramble without any judgment or fear of being annoying and that, for sure, he was not.

"And what about dinner?" You asked, reassuring him that you wanted to hear more about it.

A wide smile spread across Steven's clean shaven face and with an undeniable enthusiasm he continued: "Dinner was more of an opulent thing. Of course, more beer and bread but also different meats and vegetables. Preferably garlic, scallions, cucumbers and turnips. And...", He playfully rose one of his defined eyebrows "Back then it would've been quite a big no-no what we are doing here."

"Oh, how come?" You responded with a curious smile playing around your lips while leaning your face into the palm of one hand.

"Since we aren't married we would've gotten separated by gender for one of those fancy banquets." Steven reciprocated, his gaze slowly turning to the side from where a waiter was approaching, ready to pour two glasses of wine.

Both of you thanked the waiter after they elegantly filled both glasses with deep red liquid and left the bottle at the table.

"Appears a bit prude to me.", You stated while rasing your glass towards Steven "Cheers to being in the here and now then, hm?"

"Cheers to that and... cheers to us."

The filigree glasses clinked against each other.

"Cheers to us." You repeated, guiding the glass to your lips and taking a sip.

To your relief it didn't take too long for the food to arrive. As nice as sitting there and chatting with Steven was, your stomach had already been rumbling as you arrived at the restaurant. After taking a few bites out of your steak, you were sure to have ordered the right thing because it was without any doubt truly delicious. Now that you had stilled the most pressing needs of your stomach your attention shifted back to Steven, who was gleefully munching away on some chips.

Holding back a mischievous grin, you slowly slipped one foot out of the heels that you were wearing and stretched your leg towards Steven's. Your toes gently nudged his knee and upon that he coughed under his breath, almost getting a piece of fried potato stuck in his throat.

"How are the chips?" You asked, your voice laced with play-pretend innocence.

"They.. uh... they are great!" Steven mumbled, a faint rush of confusion washing over his features.

"How's the steak?" He asked in return, his eyes transfixed on his plate.

"Oh, it's really enjoyable." With your response your foot rose a bit higher towards the inside of his thigh.

In the span of seconds Steven's cheeks flushed red.

"Is everything alright, dear?"

"Sure, I- I'm aces." He already sounded close to tripping over his own words and you had to pull yourself together so hard as not to let a laugh slip over your tongue.

"I'm glad to hear that. I've put you through quite the hassle the last few weeks, hm?"

"Ah, no, it- it's, I've been... it's all good." Steven huffed, not yet daring to look up from his plate as you deliberately caressed his slacks-clad thigh underneath the luxurious eggshell-white table cloth.

Tonight he served quite a look in his button up shirt and a fancy burgundy tie. As per usual he really was trying his best when it came to you and you couldn't be more grateful for all the effort he put into pleasing you.

"I gotta say...", You stated with a carefully low voice after taking a good sip from your glass "You've really been such a good boy for me, Steven."

Now not only his cheeks were flushed, but his entire face got covered in a flustered red at which your heart started pounding faster.

"Have I... ma'am?" His ever so softly murmured words sent a shiver down your spine.

"Oh yes, you have." With that your self-control eventually crumbled into nothingness and you let your foot glide right towards his crotch.

A gasp fell from both of your mouths as you gently stroke across his slacks where his already painfully hard cock was straining against the soft fabric.

"And I think you finally deserve a reward for that." This time you didn't even try to withhold the mischievous excitement in your voice.

Apparently it hit Steven right where it should because as your words seeped into his mind, his silver fork fell out of his grip and hit the table with a muffled thud.

"Ts-ts..." , You clicked your tongue "Keep it together, Steven, c'mon."

His hand was visibility trembling as he picked up the cutlery again.

"That's right.... now please enjoy your meal before it's getting cold." You administered, while slowly rubbing against his hard on.

"I- I don't think I can..." The letters leaving his mouth were barely even more than a chocked back moan.

"Oh, I'm sure you can."

You recognised his heavy breathing as he tried his best to push the fork into a pile of chips, guiding the stacked food to the little bowl of mayonnaise.

The weeks of abstinence had surely left him desperate and aching for relief. You felt his need for it right underneath your foot as it stroke up and down his length.

"Please..." Steven's raspy voice pleaded.

"Please what?" You arched your eyebrows "You should look at me when you talk to me."

Yet again his face changed into an even deeper, more embarrassed shade of red. His lips pressed down onto one another before he slowly dragged his eyes from the delicate porcelain plate to meet your stern glare.

In that very moment you wouldn't have traded whatever riches for the sight right in front of you. Steven was but puddle in need for your loving touch, his pupils blown with lust.

"Please..", He started anew, "I- I can't take much more..."

"Oh, poor puppy.", You administered a tad more pressure to your foot "So worried about what everyone around will think, huh?"

He nodded, hardly able to keep his composure.

"Then you better behave yourself."

You didn't break from his eyes while you wouldn't stop torturing him underneath the table, rubbing over his throbbing cock again and again. Small droplets of sweat were forming on his forehead while his jaw clenched and flat breaths left through his nose.

"Oh lord..." Steven pressed through gritted teeth, his hands wrapping around the cutlery so hard that you thought he'd snap it right in half.

"Be a good puppy for me. Just let go. We both know you need it."

Steven's gaze drilled into yours, a watery sheen spreading across his eyes. God, he was about to fall apart inbetween so many people who had no idea what was going on.

"Ma'am!" He exhaled in a low moan right before you felt him spilling his pent up seed onto himself.

The warm load soaked his boxers and through his slacks until you felt the wetness on the sole of your foot.

"What a good boy..." You exhaled, feeling the thrill of the situation ripple through your body.

"And now, eat up... you don't want to miss dessert, do you?"

[frstcorinthians]

; angels that have no place

summary: “Must be nice to have your own room now, then,” she replied, then immediately tensed, worried she’d misstepped. They were both here because of tragedy – for all she knew, that crewmate was dead now, blown to bits up in the wide open sky. He sighed, stretching out his legs and tilting his head. “To be honest, I kind of miss it.” His voice didn’t sound upset or angry. Looks like she’d dodged a bullet once again. Vera always said her lack of tact was going to get her in trouble one day, and she kind of liked this Robert Rosenthal. Or at least, she didn’t mind having his company in the kennels. wc: just a tidy 1.3k notes: so i know i said i wasn't going to write for mota until it was all said and done. but that one line in e6 made my brain start firing away and it wouldn't stop until i did this. i don't know if this is going to become a whole Thing but knowing me i wouldn't be surprised. anyways enjoy!!!! its also on ao3 if you prefer that

“We have all the sports and activities you can ask for. Tennis, bicycles, croquet, riding with hounds, the list goes on. Relaxation is the order of the day here.”

“Riding with hounds” sounded like the stupidest thing Anna Marie could imagine, but she could be grateful for the upside-down minds of the British if it meant the Flakhouse had a kennel. She could curl up here, among the snuffling noses and velvety ears of the dogs, and not think about Cora or Ruby or Vera or any of the girls on the Morning Ride. These dogs – foxhounds, the woman who brought her in had told her – weren’t the same as her hounds back home, but their eyes were sweet and they bayed the same once she got them riled up. Anna Marie couldn’t find it in her to dress up and trot along on a horse, but she had come to enjoy going through the woods on foot, trying to keep up with the pack of dogs let loose on the forest. Aside from the people who worked here, she was one of the only ones who came to visit the dogs. So when she came down one night and saw an unfamiliar man knelt down, petting Goose, she almost stopped in her tracks.

She could hear him talking quietly to the dog. “You are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, aren’t you?” His voice was soft and singsong-y, a universal tone for talking to pets. He scratched Goose behind one ear and Anna Marie felt her mouth curve up at the scene. It had been a long time since she’d had a reason to smile.

“Goose is sweet,” she finally managed to find her voice. The man jumped at the sound of her voice, spinning around to face her, surprisingly coordinated. Hardly a curl was out of place, despite her sneaking up on him and the late hour. His eyes were very blue in the low light. “He likes when you scratch him at the base of his tail.”

“I’m surprised he let me pet him at all. I’m not great with dogs.” He forced a laugh out, trying to stay casual. Anna Marie could see the shadows under his eyes. She’d bet he’d been sleeping about as much as her, which is to say, not at all.

“What are you doing down here, then?” She stepped carefully over the mass of sleepy hounds, heading for her favorite spot. She’d been here long enough that the dogs knew to leave her a space against the wall where she could prop herself up and bore herself to sleep with one of the doctor’s dense medical texts. Cora would have gotten a kick out of seeing her read through it. 

Anna Marie boxed that thought up nice and neat and punted it to the back of her mind.

“Went out for a late night stroll, realized I never saw the kennels,” he turned to follow her progress across the room, looking amused at how she picked across the space. “You?”

She shrugged, pushing someone’s rump out of the way of her legs as she sat down. “I like it here. Reminds me of home.”

“Where are you from that you have this many dogs?” His eyebrows furrowed and he looked dubiously around the kennel.

“I don’t have quite this many, but we hunt with ‘em back home.” Anna Marie couldn’t bring herself to crack the textbook open now. She was surprised at how much she liked talking to this man, whoever he was.

“Man,” he rocked back on his heels. “The biggest dog we had back home was my aunt’s terrier. She used to terrorize the corner store, nipped at the owner’s ankles when he didn’t give her a treat.”

Anna Marie laughed. The sound was rusty, punching out from deep in her chest. It felt like something was coming unstuck inside her. She absently fidgeted with one of the dog’s ears, rubbing it between her fingers. The man shimmied over closer to her, finding an unoccupied spot between Goose and another dog. “I should introduce myself. Robert Rosenthal.” He stuck out his hand, waiting for her to shake.

She accepted. “Anna Marie McDowell.” His name was familiar, though she couldn’t place it at first. She kicked it to the same place as her other boxes, decided she’d worry about it at a later date. “What was your aunt’s dog named?”

“Rigatoni,” he replied, fidgeting with a spare leaf. Anna Marie laughed again, pushing her fist in her mouth to keep from startling the dogs. “He was shaped like a noodle, so the name stuck.” His smile was bright as he laughed along with her, even in the dim room.

“My favorite dog back home is named Sawyer,” she offered up, once her laughter had quit. “He snores like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Sounds like one of my crewmates,” he said. “I love him but, man does that sound keep me awake.”

“Must be nice to have your own room now, then,” she replied, then immediately tensed, worried she’d misstepped. They were both here because of tragedy – for all she knew, that crewmate was dead now, blown to bits up in the wide open sky.

He sighed, stretching out his legs and tilting his head. “To be honest, I kind of miss it.” His voice didn’t sound upset or angry. Looks like she’d dodged a bullet once again. Vera always said her lack of tact was going to get her in trouble one day, and she kind of liked this Robert Rosenthal. Or at least, she didn’t mind having his company in the kennels. 

They were dancing around the topic now, the reasons both of them were here. Even Anna Marie wasn’t so bull-headed as to come right out and ask. If someone did that to her, she’d probably take a swing at them. She didn’t want to talk about her girls, she just wanted to go, to get back at it, up in the sky. She was meant to be up there; her fingers itched to adjust the dials, to keep the wings of her craft steady, to chat with Ruby about where she’d take them if she could. And instead she was stuck here, in some ridiculous dress-up fantasy house where they could all pretend nothing was wrong.

Her mother’s voice came to her now, drifting through her head: quit acting ugly, Anna Marie. Her mama was right, as always. She was being ungrateful, like a spoiled little kid. She should be basking in the sun, playing tennis with some handsome pilot or chatting about this-or-that with the other girls. But she was never one for small talk, and tennis was for rich people up north. An image came to her mind unbidden, her and Rosenthal in crisp white polos, laughing and gently batting their rackets back and forth. It was so out of character she couldn’t help but snort.

Rosenthal heard her, smiling softly when she caught his eye. “Do you spend time with the dogs during the day, too? I don’t think I’ve seen you around playing croquet.”

“I do. I usually let ‘em run through the woods, see if I can keep up.”

“Mind if I join you sometime? I’m sick to death of sitting around.” His expression seemed hesitant, like he was worried he’d overstepped some boundary. “I promise I won’t come dressed for fox hunting.”

“Sure,” she answered, leftover laughter still coloring her tone. He brought out a levity in her she hadn’t realized had been missing so long. “Come down one morning.”

“Alright,” he nodded, hauling himself up to his feet. Goose snuffled at the disturbance, before rolling over to take up the spot. “It was nice to meet you, Anna.”

“Anna Marie,” she corrected reflexively. Rosenthal gave a small wave and left, off to sleep or, more likely, explore another part of this endless home of leisure activity. Anna Marie finally opened the textbook to a section on the femur, falling asleep before she’d even gotten two paragraphs in.

[magnetothemagnificent]

I guess it's time I share my list of birds from this past Jewish year (I've been keeping two Big Year lists, Jewish year and secular year). All are from the US, except the last few which are indicated.

1. Ruby-crowned kinglet

2. American Robin

* Leucistic American Robin

3. Song sparrow

4. Rock pigeon

* Melanistic rock pigeon

5. Chipping sparrow

6. Hairy woodpecker

7. Mourning dove

8. Northern flicker

9. Eastern towhee

10. White crowned sparrow

11. White-throated sparrow

12 Savannah sparrow

13. House sparrow

14. European starling

15. American Crow

16. Common Raven

17. Gray catbird

18. Northern mockingbird

19. Canada Goose

20. Spotted Sandpiper

21. American herring gull

22. Marsh wren

23. Limpkin

24. Great white heron

25. Cattle egret

26. Anhinga

27. Snowy egret

28. Great blue heron

29. Black-crowned night heron

30. Wood stork

31. Common gallinule

32. Blue-gray gnatcatcher

33. Turkey vulture

34. Black vulture

35. Yellow rumped warbler

36. Tufted titmouse

37. Little blue heron

38. White ibis

39. Cooper's hawk

40. Cardinal

41. Green heron

42. Carolina wren

43. Palm warbler

44. Pine warbler

45. Sandhill crane

46. Carolina chickadee

47. Bluejay

48. Osprey

49. Chimney swift

50. Red-tailed hawk

51. Prairie warbler

52. American kestrel

53. Glossy ibis

54. Pied-billed grebe

55. Double-crested cormorant

56. Grey kingbird

57. Brown pelican

58. Fish crow

59. Royal tern

60. Bald eagle

61. Painted bunting

62. American white pelican

63. Common grackle

64. Boat-tailed grackle

65. Great-tailed grackle

66. American purple gallinule

67. American coot

68. Brown-headed cowbird

69. Tricolored heron

70. Mallard

71. Black-bellied whistling duck

72. Eastern kingbird

73. Yellow-billed cuckoo

74. Muscovy duck

75. American bittern

76. Ring-billed gull

77. American Pekin

78. Mallard-Pekin hybrid

79. Eastern bluebird

80. Yellow-bellied sapsucker

81. Red-winged blackbird

82. White-eyed vireo

83. Mottled duck

84. Broad-winged hawk

85. Dark-eyed junco

86. Brown thrasher

87. Sharp-shinned hawk

88. House finch

89. Eastern Phoebe

90. Downy woodpecker

91. Fox sparrow

92. Loggerhead Shrike!!!!

93. White breasted nuthatch

94. Red-bellied woodpecker

95. Brown creeper

96. Pileated woodpecker

97. American goldfinch

98. House wren

99. Barn swallow

100. Tree swallow

101. Black and white warbler

102. Red eyed vireo

103. Yellow warbler

104. Mute swan

105. Rusty blackbird

106. Common yellowthroat

107. Warbling vireo

108. Northern waterthrush

109. Veery

110. Swamp sparrow

111. Wood duck

112. American redstart

113. Orchard oriole

114. Greater Yellowlegs

115. Lesser Yellowlegs

116. Baltimore oriole

117. Hermit thrush

118. Wood thrush

119. Ovenbird

120. Indigo bunting

121. Black-throated blue warbler

122. Scarlet tanager

123. Worm-eating warbler

124. Northern rough-winged swallow

125. Blue-headed vireo

126. Northern parula

127. Prothonotary warbler

128. Philadelphia vireo

129. Blackburnian warbler

130. Magnolia warbler

131. Cedar waxwing

132. Blackpoll warbler

133. Yellow-throated vireo

134. Eastern wood pewee

135. Acadian flycatcher

136. Tennessee warbler

137. Caspian tern

138. Laughing gull

139. Forster's tern

140. American oystercatcher

141. Green-winged teal

142. Purple Martin

143. Least tern

144. Field sparrow

145. Killdeer

146. Grey-cheeked thrush

147. Rose-breasted grosbeak

148. Great-crested flycatcher

149. Swainson's thrush

150. Bay-breasted warbler

151. Chestnut-sided warbler

152. Willow flycatcher

153. Ruby-throated hummingbird

154. Peregrine falcon

155. Hooded crow IL

156. Laughing dove IL

157. Eurasian collared dove IL

158. Eurasian jackdaw IL

159. Common myna IL

160. Rose-ringed parakeet IL

161. White spectacled bulbul IL

162. European bee eater IL

163. Chukar IL

164. Short toed snake eagle IL

165. White stork IL

166. Little egret IL

167. Pygmy cormorant IL

168. Eurasian hoopoe IL

169. Alpine swift IL

170. Graceful pinia IL

171. Eastern Olivaceous Warbler IL

172. Tristan's Starling IL

173. Fan tailed raven IL

174. Eurasian black cap IL

Here's to at least 200 next year!

[angst-cravings]

birdlistening

summary: you are an avid birder, and you go birdwatching every sunday morning before matt goes to church. today you invite him out

pairing: matt murdock x reader

words: 1k

an: this is so self indulgent i love birds so much. only fluff. gender neutral reader, no use of y/n

cw: some mild explicit language. embarrassment about being passionate

The sun isn’t even up yet, but you are energized and ready to go. You love Sunday mornings. Matt has his ritual of going to church and confession, while you have your ritual of going birdwatching. It’s how you center yourself before every week starts. You are silently packing your bag, putting in your worn field guide, bird notebook, binoculars, water bottle filled with hot cocoa, and a pair of gloves in case things get a little too nippy. You barely noticed, but Matt had gotten out of bed and was standing in the doorway like he always manages to do before you leave. You flash him a quick smile. He looks so ethereal with the neon lights reflecting off his bare skin, and his lack of clothing always entices you to stay behind. 

“Expecting any good birds today?” 

“Well, this week is actually peak migration, so… yeah. There will be so many birds today.” You try to hide your excitement, but you’re sure he can hear it in your voice. This is your favorite time of the year, and you are constantly looking forward to it in the winter when birds are scarce.

He grins at you. “Well, I hope you have fun sweetheart.” 

You keep meaning to invite him, but he had usually only gone to bed a few hours before. However, he had taken last night off. Maybe this would be a good time?

“Would you… maybe want to come birdwatching with me?” You tentatively suggest. You were prepared for rejection. It was so early in the morning, and you didn’t even know if he’d enjoy it.

“Well, I can’t exactly watch the birds,” He chuckles, “But I can go out with you if you’d like. I could at least make sure you get to Central Park safely.”

“I think you’d like it more than you think. I can teach you the bird calls, and then you can bird listen,” You zip up your backpack, and put on a hat, “But you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

He immediately shakes his head. “Of course. Anything to spend a little more time with you.” Warmth rises in your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile.

As you two walk to Central Park, you start educating him. 

“So, you obviously know the common ones like the Rock Pigeon and Mourning Dove and Canada Goose and stuff. We’ll probably encounter some of those today but those are kinda boring. I’m really looking for warblers; they’re some of my favorite birds. American Redstart and Yellow-rumped Warblers are pretty common around migration here, so I’m expecting some of those.” You pull up recordings of the calls on your phone and play them for Matt so he can get an idea. “American Redstarts are so pretty too, they have this gorgeous orange-red shoulder area. And the Yellow-rumped Warbler is mostly gray with a yellow butt, shoulder, and head.” 

Matt is listening to you, but he is mostly enjoying the lilt of your voice. He loves when you’re excited about things. Your heartbeat always rises a little, your grin is visible in your voice, and you move your hands around a lot. He loves hearing the near-silent swish of air as you gesticulate enthusiastically. 

“You know, you’re lucky this is me. These calls sound very similar.” 

“I mean those two aren’t pretty similar. I think they’re pretty distinct.” You shrug. 

“Maybe to you and I, sweetheart.” He squeezes your hand. 

You set up the blanket on a green patch in Central Park. Matt sits down before you and pulls you into his lap. As the sun starts to rise, birds start to fly, and you point out bird calls to Matt as you hear them. 

“That’s an Indigo Bunting! They’re so gorgeous, they’re this lovely blue color. They form song neighborhoods, where in one area they’ll have one song, and in another, they’ll have a slightly different song. It’s super cool!” You gush as you follow the bird with your binoculars.

He felt lucky. He had an intelligent, passionate partner who loved him. He buries his face in your neck and smiles. The grip around your waist tightens, and he takes a deep breath. Your body wash mingles with the smell of dew and trees. You rattle off more birds to him, and he can feel you write a list of the birds you see. He felt so damn lucky. 

“So, that one I’m hearing is a… Song Sparrow, right?” He focuses on the bird in the tree near you two. Before you even respond, he can hear your heart rate raise slightly in excitement.

“You were paying attention.” A smile forms across your lips.

“Of course, I was, sweetheart.”

“I know, I just… I know you aren’t the most interested in this. Just…thank you. For doing this with me.” You tilt your head in his direction.

“No. I am interested in anything you are interested in. I love the way you talk about birds. Your voice gets a little bit faster and a little bit higher, and you ramble in the cutest way possible. And I will do anything to get you to talk more. It’s one of my favorite sounds. Don’t ever be embarrassed for being passionate. If I could only hear one thing for the rest of my life, it’d be you talking, because” He connects his lips with yours for a quick peck, “I love you. And with that, I love anything that you love too. I was actually hoping you’d invite me. You’ve been talking about this for weeks. I, uh, took last night off in the hopes that you would. Thanks for taking me.”

You shift in his lap and place your hand on his cheek. You lean in, and your foreheads touch.

“Thank you, Matt.” You whisper. You close the distance and kiss him. His lips were warm and inviting. Just like him.

[dabiconcordia]

Lake Treasure

Twinged with disappointment my hike through the woods didn’t reveal a pileated, I carry the scent of pines to the water where a squawking goose beats hard, tips left, slants down for lake treasure — rest, food, maybe a mate. The bird extends its legs, flairs wings, splashes, flaps, skids and glides to a gentle stop before dunking its head and pointing its rump skyward — a bow for a perfect 10. I refrain from applause, respecting the quiet of this arena, and in that moment wish for the bird something precious as it’s given me. by David Henson

[malaks-perch]

uff, this is an assassin au with no specific character, please let me know who you'd like to see with this. nonspecific gender neutral reader, that could change. reader's parents are considered enemies to the crown basically and our reader doesn't know because they live deep in the woods. there may be mild mentions of violence, but not enough for a community label, lmk if you think differently bc i dont want anyone triggered by mild mentions of knives and death. this is probably like 0.3k words.

let the author know you enjoyed it

i have thoughts of an assassin from the towering pillars and bustling crowd of the city weaving their way through clusters of whispering trees and through the spotted shadows conducted by the canopy above. it's probably the afternoon and the orders are deep in the woods, the offspring of some enemy to royalty is to be disposed of and left exactly where they were in the deep neck of these woods—

but the assassin stops.

the trees whispering halts and the breeze is so light that it doesn't keep the hair out of the assassin's face. they must push it back and they squint, kneeling in the underbrush at the target.

laid in the grass, a gaggle honk low and wiggle their feathery rumps as one dips it's head to regard the book in hand, but it's tilted so said goose may have a better look. laid underneath the shade of a dogwood, petals and grasses framing spotted ducks and you, the bastard of the miserable enemy of his master.

"now, mr. pekin, be warned this is not to be repeated to anyone else. we don't want gran's recipes getting out to jem or we'll have ourselves some trouble." you point an accusatory finger at the goose and it, mr. pekin, wags his fluffy little tail feathers and turns his head petulantly.

huh.

it seems your parents, with their lack of disregard for human life and treason for giving away secrets, are nothing compared to you who tell geese to behave as if they'll tell anyone of your recipe for gooseberry pie.

the assassin huffs an amused sound. how ironic. how coincidental, they think as they meet the eyes of a goose, mr pekin to be exact and mr pekin is furious.

the goose honks a shrill sound, smacking you in the face with it's bared wings as it waddles fast into the bushes and the assassin falls back without as much of a rustle with their hand in the grass before turning back right on time to curl a fist around the head of mr. pekin and the honking of his becomes muffled when the assassin's index and thumb curl around it's bill and the other catches the webbed, clawed feet that scratch through the assassin's trousers.

"mr pekin."

both individuals freeze. mr pekin and the assassin pause in their entanglement, one readies a wing while the other a knife for the same reasons, but with different targets.

"come on back," you call and the assassin ducks lower into the bushes to see that you're knelt by the base of the flowery tree and the other geese flap their wings nervously.

mr pekin takes a cheap shot at the assassin when their guard is lowered and is released from their hold. the goose honks and the assassin flinches back, ready for another fight with the bird as it glowers at him before it turns with it's head tipped up high and waddles slowly out the bush.

you allow the goose to come near, scooping the beast in your arms, and counting the others as you tuck your book into your apron pocket. retelling the geese that they have an obligation to their duties of eating slugs from your gardens and you of your chores before the sun begins to set, but the words become lost the further and further you go.

one throw and the dagger at the assassin's thigh could complete the job here and now, but...

the assassin's eyes flicker to you. your smile, the gentle way you guide the ducks, how you don't even bother to check over your shoulder like your father did every day since the assassin tailed him before his conviction in the papers. you can't be like them.

the assassin buttons the sheath and raises from his hiding spot when you're out of sight.

not you, the assassin thinks.

every lie, deception, and betrayal they've seen, this surely isn't one of them. not when you live so peacefully unaffected by the influence of your parents. there are flickers of choice between every target: who to subdue and who to let leave and who must inevitably be disposed of for fear of their rot.

you aren't of the dark or the blood of your parents. in you the assassin only sees life and it's succession.

you will not die today.

the trees whisper again and the assassin returns to the city with a bloodless knife.

[witchstone]

okay, birds seen at home in june round up! comes to a total of 62 species, which is oddly high for the middle of winter. the highlight was the green twinspot, which i’d only got my first ever sighting of two weeks earlier. presumably it had only found its way to our garden because of the heavy rains and flash floods (and the tornado what the fuck) a few days prior - they’re forest birds, whereas our area is more broad-leaf woodland.

full list and photos under the cut!

bar-throated apalis, black-collared + crested + white-eared barbet, cape batis, dark-capped bulbul, green-backed camaroptera*, yellow-fronted canary, fork-tailed drongo, crowned eagle*, southern black flycatcher, african dusky flycatcher, african paradise flycatcher (odd for this time of year), egyptian goose, gymnogene, southern hadeda, purple-crested loerie. speckled mousebird, black-headed oriole, rose-ringed parakeet*, black-backed puffback, red-capped robin-chat, cape glossy + black-bellied + red-winged starling, collared + greater double-collared + olive + amethyst + white-bellied sunbird, olive + kurrichane thrush, golden-rumped tinkerbarbet, southern black tit, spectacled + village weaver, cape white-eye, cardinal + golden-tailed woodpecker, red-eyed + tambourine* dove, brown-hooded kingfisher, red-backed + bronze mannikin, klaas’s cuckoo*, lesser honeyguide, grey-headed bushshrike*, familiar chat, southern grey-headed sparrow, woolly-necked stork, sombre greenbul*, green woodhoopoe, cape wagtail, southern boubou, black sparrowhawk, african palm swift, green twinspot, black cuckooshrike?, black-headed heron, little sparrowhawk?, pied crow, african goshawk

* = call heard, no visuals, ? = i’m reasonably sure it was that, but not 100%

dark-capped bulbul, taken at a nature reserve up the hill

eurytela dryope

not sure yet. maybe a mocker swallowtail judging by the body?

olive sunbird my beloved

the green twinspot!! absolutely not a great photo, but i was surprised to get a pic at all tbh. either a female or juvenile

bosduival’s tree nymph

souther hadeda. chicken sized rats and the worst dawn chorus you’ve ever heard

golden-tailed woodpecker

gold-spotted sylph. have never seen one before in my life, but it was hanging around the laundry

southern black tit!

[craigslisthorses]

booty higher than my self esteem

[krueger4eva]

Random Headcanon for Gladstone Gander

Note: Gladstone’s family lineage varies between authors, so I am going to choose the Duck family tree by Don Rosa as a template for this headcanon.

According to Rosa’s Duck family tree, Gladstone Gander is the son of Daphne Duck, from which he inherited his supernatural good luck, and Goostave Gander, a firm but fair goose.

Due to Gladstone’s mixed heritage, this has been another source of bullying towards him along with his good fortune.

While Gladstone maintained his cool and confident appearance most of the time, there were times when his goose genetics caused some embarrassment for him.

Having a case of the hiccups is very rare for Gladstone. But when he does, a goose-like honking noise emits from his mouth. Whenever he hiccups in crowded places, people think that there’s a semi-trailer truck passing by. He always manages to sneak out, undetected, before anyone can trace the sound to him.

Plus, his hybrid heritage is quite noticeable on the outside due to his goose genetics making him “rounder” in certain areas. While all ducks are naturally plump, Gladstone, while in healthy shape for any bird, has some… extra cargo in the rear.

Ever since high school, poor Gladstone has had to deal with insults from peers and strangers like “Humpty Dumpty”, “Rump Roast”, or “Goosey Caboosey”. Usually, he would remain calm, yet visibly annoyed, when hearing these affronts. But there is one name that could set this bird off: “bubble butt”. On the day his parents died, some students in school called him that name which led to a violent fight that got him sent home for the day. Once he got home, thats when he received the tragic news. Now, every time someone calls him “bubble butt”, he’s reminded of that fateful day of his terrible loss.

Anyone who has survived a goose attack in a park can vouch that these birds are not to be taken lightly. The people who have called Gladstone that dreaded nickname learned the hard way that it takes one push over the edge to cause this perpetually lazy to pull a Donald. He may not be a skilled fighter like Donald, Della, or Abner, but he knows how to deliver some nasty bites with his sharp teeth.

Although, they’re not actual teeth, but rather jagged structures created from cartilage that line up the inside of the bill- referred to as “tomia”. Yet, Gladstone always refers to them as “fangs” just because it sounds cooler. Either way, these appendages can easily do some serious damage.

And like all geese, he lets out a terrifying hissing noise. It sounds like a velociraptor hunting for fresh prey.

Imagine walking through the woods, alone, after dark and hearing that sound! 😰

Luckily, his family (EVEN Donald!) would never laugh at those jokes or tease him about his body. Gladstone and his cousins may trade jabs at each other on a daily basis, but they have an agreement on what lines should never be crossed. Also, he has become comfortable with joking about himself from time to time, but only around family.

For example, whenever the children were caught in a lie, Gladstone has permission from the other adults to threaten to sit on them if they don’t confess. It takes only a MILLISECOND for them to spill the beans. Plus, his tomia saves on fake teeth for Halloween costumes. He even jokes about being secretly a vampire to the kids and that his good fortune protects him from burning in the sunlight. Louie and Lena don’t believe it, but they always appreciated his theatrics.

Despite the grievances he experiences due to his unique anatomy, Gladstone remains proud to be the son of Goostave and Daphne. They were good people and even greater parents. All genetics have their drawbacks and advantages.

He’s a duck.

He’s a goose.

But he’s all Gladstone…for better or worse..🍀

Please tip me at Ko-Fi 💜!!

[asheewrites]

Guilty Excuses 8

The cute creature rubbed her cheek on his chest and hummed. And then started to frame Asmodeus muscles with a lazy finger and mumbled: “Pectoralis major.. minor… serratus anterior… subclavicus… teres major… subscapularis… corabrachialis…”

He felt the smile she formed against his chest at the same time as he produced his slight goose bumps on the back of his arm.

“… you’re incredibly easy to please, aren’t you?” He flicked a strand of her long hair. A bit of teasing hasn’t harmed anyone.

“Mmmh…  reaffirming there is a body with the right parts in front of me calms me down. And you… you aren’t touched like this that often, it seems. I feel privileged?” She rubbed her cheek against him and traced his veins to the wrist, apparently fascinated that her wrist was smaller than his own.

“It’s not that exciting, is it now?” There were much more interesting abilities and ways to touch he could show off. Glady, even.

He turned his wrist to capture hers, reversing the hold, which ended with her fingers threaded between his, pressing her fingertips into the back of his hand. She had immediately turned her wrist to counteract. Raphael was very much against being captured in any way, it seemed. Feisty.

“I do not know what’s exciting for you, Asmodeus. You’ve had over six thousand very fun years, I am sure.” Breathing in with closed eyes, so relaxed, she shrugged: “I have to accept everything you do to me is exciting”

“Oh? Everything?” She smiled and nodded serenely. “The same way?”

“Mmmhmh. The veery s-“ Her eyebrows went up eyes narrowed she looked over suspiciously: “Err… why?”

“You might be even more easy to please,” the absolutely confused expression alone was worth it. “You are so very basic in your positions and movements. We don’t want to overwhelm you with too many new things, of course.”

He could feel her cheeks warming, mind apparently working: “I- did say my experience is… limited.”

”So, we stay with the classics. And see if you might lose your mind a bit more.” It was actually fun to see an almost uncomfortable squirm fight with an obvious bit of curiosity.

“I… I can’t… my legs and arms are all wobbly, it’s… I…” It was almost refreshing to have someone not immediately assume he would do all the work, because ‘he was the expert, after all’.

“I’ll take care of it, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, love.” That endearment was highly effective, judging by her hiding her face in his chest once again. Only muffled noises of indignation followed.

But more importantly, not the slightest bit of refusal: “A quick round, mh? Just to see”

He slipped out from under her with one last kiss on top of her head and let her face hide in the generous amount of pillows on As’ bed.

When he heard the angel took a long sniff, he couldn’t help but smirk.

Her body had barely calmed down from her last orgasm, so he placed a pillow under her hips – under her confused watch -, she wriggled her ass in the air experimentally.  

It was not hard to guess that he intended to kneel and take her from behind. Arousal could be easily summoned with the unselfconscious wriggling. He slipped in while his thumbs pressed in at her rump and downwards towards her head in the pillows. A smooth motion and the angel punched out a breath that wanted to be a moan, but her mouth was too wide open and no friction of air happened. A whimper followed.

“You see, in this position I do get deeper inside you,” she canted her hips to ease the access even more and nodded frantically.

“MhMHm,” the high pitched tone sold it. She was still overly sensitive but apparently just on the right side of overstimulated.

Her toes tried to find a hold and curled helplessly into the bedsheets while Asmodeus fucked into her in a steady, staccatos rhythm, accompanied with a slapping sound each time they hips collided and her keening sound grew louder for about two minutes before it abruptly choked and another whimper followed.

He slowly rode her orgasm out for her, pleasing, almost caressing waves of pleasure. She most definitely had her fun.

Raphael being such pudding in his hands was… certainly a bit of fun as well.

When shfinaly had calmed down, he sat back up and sat back against the headboard. And despite her certainly feeling a lot more ‘wobbly’, the angel also sat up, very much wrapping herself in a blanket.

Enough orgasms for now, then.

“… you did enjoy yourself.” He didn’t want to make it a question. Because a climax didn’t usually happen that fast if the other wasn’t at least on board with it.

“… very much so,” was the reluctant affirmation, “… it did feel… more intense, compared to-“

“Oh yes, a second orgasm can be stronger than the first. And like I said, deeper, so…” Seeing the effect was still… well, at least unusual. Horny angel.

“… this was actually only a vaginal orgasm and…” She sighed, and he noted she at least didn’t shy away from knowing the theoretical. “… really didn’t expect that.”

He patted her head: “We learn something new every say, sometimes even about ourselves”

She wrapped herself even more into the blanket.

Asmodeus reached over to his nightstand and grabbed the first book he got his hands on. “365 sex positions. Mh.”

She looked over with curiosity, but twitched back: “NOT right now.” Her whole face was unhappily regretful.

“Not right now, certainly. But you wanna look?” He flicked the book through on random pages.

Pulling her knees closer, she nodded and leaned against him: “… but only if you tell me which ones you actually like. ‘I like them all’ doesn’t count. Just… what do I know, imagine what might be the most fun with me.” She looked to the side and back: “If at all. So. Do show?”

What a ridiculous notion: “We can try them all, then we’ll know for sure.” The pout convinced him that this might not be the right answer. He winked: “I’ll try my best”

[east-germany]

Wingicide Time (Forcibly remove me into the ocean harder Hoppywoppy daddy)

Ancom- Pidgeon wings, qui seems like the kind of person to be borderline crustpunk.

Commie-Paragon Falcon

Ancap-Some kind of super fancy ultra luxury show bird, yknow them pigeons n shits that defy god and cost more than my entire college education

Nazi-Black eagle, my boyfriends gotta look cool!

Posadist-Xe gets dragonfly wings, or some other insect y'all can fill me in in the comments

Anarcho-Monarchist-Peacock! Or a bird of paradise

Anarcho-Primitivism- Yet another bird of paradise

Homonationalist- Black swan

Conservative-Angel!!! He gets a halo too, have fun in hell you sinners

Nazbol-Half bluejay half robbin

Trans Humanist- Think somewhere between a jetpack and Till Lindemann's flame wings

Progressive- Some kinda endangered species or other weak ass shit

Socialist- Nothing too revolutionary, something rose colored of course

Political Nihlism-King vulture

Libertarian- Snake,, snake wings?? Snake scale wings?? Dear google which bird eats snakes thanks

Minarchist- @flyingaceminarchist​ can kindly remind me what type, falcon I think?

Hoppean-Goose

Anarcho Fascism- bald eagle

Queer Anarchist-Hummingbird

Insan-Attack seagul

Anti-Radical-Butcher Bird

Horseshoe Centrist-Pegasus wings! Everyone knows they're real animals you silly goose!

Radical Centrist-Yet another bird of paradise

Ape political-No

Ingsoc-Black owl

Darwin-red tailed hawk

Communalist-Hen

Egoist-Whats the most vain bird?? All he knows is preen wings scream repeat

Ahospice-golden eagle

Cultcom-Grape scented wings, whats Guyana's national bird?

Censure-Tentacles count. [redacted]

Homosoc-A feather boa, fresh from pride

Ecofash-Eagle

Esofash-Chicken (if you know you know)

Church of Euthanasia-White rumped vulture

Acid Communism-Lesser blue eared starling

Everyone else I forgot-Fuck around and find out (this is an au where everyone has wings, not just hoppywoppy)

[magnetothemagnificent]

Bird species I saw today on my five mile hike:

Barn swallow

Tree swallow 

Black and white warbler 

Red eyed vireo 

Yellow warbler 

Mute swan

Rusty blackbird 

Common yellowthroat 

Warbling vireo

Northern waterthrush

Common raven

Red-winged blackbird

Mourning dove

Downy woodpecker

Northern flicker

American robin

Red-bellied woodpecker

Osprey

Song sparrow

White-throated sparrow

Mallard

Canada goose

Great blue heron

Blue-grey gnatcatcher

American goldfinch

Northern cardinal

Eastern kingbird

Blue Jay

Carolina wren

Yellow-rumped warbler

Common grackle