#native formats

[mingos-commodoreblog]

RECOIL 6.4.4 - A viewer of pictures in native formats of 20th century computers: Amiga, Amstrad CPC, Apple II, Atari 8-bit, Atari Portfolio, Atari ST/TT/Falcon, BBC Micro, Commodore VIC-20, Commodore 64, Commodore 16/116/Plus4, Commodore 128, Electronika BK, FM Towns, HP 48, Macintosh 128K, MSX, NEC PC-80, NEC PC-88, NEC PC-98, Oric, Psion Series 3, SAM Coupé, Sharp X68000, Tandy 1000, Timex 2048, TRS-80, TRS-80 Color Computer, Vector-06C, ZX81 and ZX Spectrum.

[mylifeinpixels]

Day hike grid

Lava plug rock formation 🪨

[tusks-and-claws]

The Death of Peace of Mind

Miguel O’hara x female reader

Summary: "I miss the way you say my name/the way you bend, the way you break"

You think your fearless leader needs help relaxing, but another door is opened entirely

Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, fingering, blowjob, pronebone, blood, biting, unprotected sex, paralytic venom, dominant Miguel, dirty talk, God there’s so much to list : )

Word count: 3.3k 

Can also be found on Ao3 here. Please give it some love if you enjoyed ;_;

-

"I know better than this, I shouldn't be… we shouldn't be doing this."

Miguel O'Hara sat at the edge of your bed, your room softly illuminated by a candle on the bedside table. He liked the dark. His back was to you, his broad shoulders slumped forward, as you had your back against your headboard. He was still in his suit, his mask off.

"Miguel…" you said, starting this conversation again for the umpteenth time. "You have needs, too, y'know." 

He waved a hand dismissively. "What are my needs when compared to all this?" He gestured to nothing. You weren't even at HQ. You were both in your dimension. A vacation, you had said. You could never get him to leave HQ for long. "I know what happens when I try to get what I want. When I go where I don't belong."

You furrowed your brow. "But you do belong here, I invited you."

"You know exactly what I mean." He spoke quickly. Trying to expel the words as fast as possible. 

Your arms crossed over your chest as you eyed him. He'd been through a lot, yes, but what Spider hadn't? How long was he going to keep ignoring himself for the greater good? What purpose would he serve if he tore himself apart? 

"You're right," you said, finally. 

"What?" He asked, peering over his shoulder to look at you, incredulous. 

"You're right," you repeated. "You can leave."

"I… well. I suppose I can leave. Do you… want me to?"

You suppressed a smile. "I don't really care," you lied. 

"You…?" He turned around at that, hands on the bed as he swiveled his torso to meet your eyes. "You can't be serious. I- I made the effort to make sure Jess could cover me so we could come here, I… it's a huge waste of time. You see that, don't you?" 

"I guess so." It was hard for you to break eye contact with him, but you managed to do it, and stared pointedly out the window. 

"You 'guess,' I can't-" he rubbed his face with his hands. "You're so frustrating, I can't read you, you-" 

Your face broke, betraying you, a smirk cracking your façade.

He narrowed his eyes, fully turning around now, bringing his knees up onto the bed to crawl to you. His claws came out, and they pulled at the threads of your comforter, threatening to tear holes. "Is this what you want? You want to make me mad?" 

You blushed as he made his way to you, his sudden intensity stirring you into silence. 

"Well?" He asked. "Suddenly so quiet." He reached you now, looming over you with both hands on the headboard on either side of you, his muscular thighs straddling your legs. His huge frame took up your whole vision, his presence overwhelming your heightened senses. Heat was radiating from his body. His scent washed over you. He was all clean musk and warmth and something deeper, something primal. It played to your baser mind, telling you to lose control and give in. 

You swallowed. "You have no need to stay here." You weren't done teasing him just yet. 

"But you have need, hm?" He looked down to study your form, releasing his hands from the headboard to touch the hem of your shirt. "Don't you?"

You held your breath, nodding.

"Say it." His tone was casual. Flippant.

Your breath left you as your lips parted to speak, the words far from you as your brain grew foggy. He always liked to hear you admit how much you wanted it, how much you wanted him. And he always asked you when he knew you'd struggle to form a response. 

"Yes." It was the only thing your brain made abundantly clear. Yes. Yes, you have needs. Yes, in this moment, he was one of them. 

"Yes what?"

How cruel. Under his gaze for this long, intense and bloodshot, you grew more flustered and delirious. 

"Yes, Miguel, I have need of you." You impressed yourself with the eloquence of your reply. 

"Oh? Oh, do you?" His hands finally moved again, snaking under the bottom of your shirt, the fabric of his suit keeping your skin from touching his. "That's kind of selfish of you, isn't it?"

You nodded, biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes as his hands moved to firmly hold the sides of your waist, thumbs stroking soft skin. He was being careful to not scratch you. Though his claws were retractable, you noticed throughout your encounters that he had a hard time keeping them hidden when his passions were running high. But part of you didn't care if he marked you up. Part of you wanted to keep something from him. Something more than awkward passing glances and intimate encounters that were few and far between. 

"M-Miguel?"

"Mm? What is it?"

"You don't need to be gentle, y’know."

His gaze flicked to meet yours as he raised an eyebrow. He seemed amused. 

"It's just that," for some reason, you felt the need to elaborate. "I'm strong, too. I can handle it. You've been so stressed."

"So… you want me to use you?" His voice was low and level. 

Use. The word sent a shock up your spine. He could see the emotions flashing across your face, the thoughts of him, of what he might do to you. Was this safe? Could he control himself? He'd have to. You'd just have to trust him. 

You released a breath you hadn't noticed you were holding, meeting him in his bloodshot eyes. "Yes. Please."

He grinned, bearing his pearly fangs in the flickering candlelight. The fog in your head grew thicker at the sight of them. Would he bite you with them? How would they feel against your skin? How would they feel piercing you? Would it hurt? Would it-

The feeling of his bare forefinger, claw retracted, gently teasing your slit quickly shut you up. When did he move his hand under the hem of your shorts? You were so deep within your own clouded thoughts, you hadn't even noticed. He caressed you there before carefully plunging his finger into your heat. The feeling was immediately maddening. You bit your lip to keep yourself from asking for more, for another finger, for his mouth, for his- no. You were following his pace. This was what you wanted, yes, but it was mostly for him. You somehow knew that he needed this more than you did, though he'd never admit it.

The whole time, he kept his reddened eyes on your face, studying every reaction. "You're wet, you're so wet…." His voice was quiet. "So, this is what does it for you, huh?" He pumped his finger at a steady pace. You could hear the wet sounds he elicited with his efforts. You braced yourself on his hulking shoulders, preparing for him to quicken at any moment. But he was agonizingly slow. His free hand gripped the headboard above you as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. "Me, your leader, using you." There was that word again. You lightly arched your back into him upon hearing it, trying to keep yourself calm for now. Falling apart could come later. "I try so hard to hold it all together. But you… you threaten me. The looks you give me, your smiles, your smell, estoy cachondo, fuck." Your eyes widened. He only spoke Spanish when his emotions were heightened. He was unraveling. 

Good.

He slipped his digit out from inside of you and circled your clit with a slick fingertip. The feeling was intense and electric, and even though you were still half-pinned by his muscular thighs, your upper body curled into him. "Seeing you like this…" he swallowed, his heartbeat quickening. "Rendering you helpless… It's revenge for how you make me feel when you look at me the way you do. If I can make you feel half of that… that might be enough. You're going to come for me. Feel what I feel." 

You nodded fervently, unable to speak under his attention, his words, his touch. That delicious, warm feeling was building up and coiling in your core as he kept expertly circling your clit, until the coil finally snapped and you came, lifting up off of the bed and throwing your arms around his neck as you whimpered. Miguel continued as you rode it out, reveling in the newfound wetness that came with your orgasm, until you finally settled down, your heart still thumping in your chest. You released your hold of him, your arms weak, your gaze heavy. He seemed to match your labored breathing, his chest rising and falling in time with yours. You had hardly even touched him and he seemed as much of a mess as you were. 

He stared at you like that for a brief moment, seemingly awestruck at your reaction to this newly opened door. 

"God, I need… I need your mouth around my cock." He flipped unceremoniously off of you to lay on his back at your side. "Come here." Before you had time to react, he had a hand on your head, guiding you downward. Despite the forceful movement, he fondly scratched at your scalp with bare fingers, his hand shaking just enough for you to notice. You positioned yourself so your head rested on his hard abdominals while you admired the display he brought you down to see. His hard cock pushed against his nearly metallic suit. The sheen of the fabric left almost nothing to the imagination. You could see his thick shaft, prominent veins like rivers flowing over a landscape, all leading up to the bulbous head. He twitched eagerly as he sighed, trying to calm his heart. 

You reached your hand up to touch Miguel through his suit, and his reaction was bodily. He hissed a breath in through clenched teeth. You played with his hard length, running the flat of your palm up and down the underside of his shaft, until he couldn't take it anymore. He seemed to be able to dismiss parts of his suit at will, and he did just that, creating an opening so he could spring free. It was always an impressive sight, sizable and thick. His golden skin slightly red with anticipation at the head of his cock, soft dark waves of short hair at the base. Reaching up, you gently held it. You couldn't quite wrap your whole hand around it. He exhaled at your touch, skin on skin. The hand he had in your hair gently pushed your head until your waiting lips met the tip of his cock, and you accepted it, closing your mouth around it.

Miguel threw his head back, slamming it against the headboard and shaking the two of you on the bed. The sound startled you, but you knew the headboard would've taken more damage than Miguel. He gave no indication that he was hurt, and so you kept going, sucking on the tip of his cock and being as noisy as possible so it would overwhelm that heightened hearing of his. And overwhelm it did. The soft, wet heat of your mouth was nearly too much for him. And as you started to take him deeper, he reached his arms up and behind him, taking the headboard into a vice grip. You could hear the wood splintering. 

That should've worried you, you should've cared about your furniture being destroyed. But you didn't. You couldn't, not with Miguel O'Hara melting underneath you. He could destroy a thousand bed frames. So long as you could touch him, could hear him moaning, could watch him as he barely held his composure. This would always be worth it. 

You took him further into your mouth, humming around his length at the pleasant,  full feeling. You were slow, holding him there, savoring the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue.

"M-move-" he croaked.

You turned your gaze towards his face, raising an eyebrow. He was straining. Muscles bulging, chest heaving, fangs displayed in clenched teeth. You could see the prominent cracks in the wood.

"Move your shocking head, amor."

His hands came down to tangle with your hair, grabbing handfuls so he could move your head for you. You happily let him, and he bobbed you up and down on his shaft as you opened your throat to him. 

"Oh, fuck, yes… that's it. Good girl. You're- you're taking me so fucking well." 

Your eyes started rolling into the back of your head fondly. Good girl. He'd never called you that before. You'd be good for him. You'd be so good. 

The sounds coming from you were the very definition of lewd, as were the strands of thick saliva that connected you to him. You closed your eyes, continuing to breathe through your nose, when you felt something prick your scalp. His claws. In and out, in and out. He was struggling to keep control of them.

"Ay, coño, I can't fucking do this." His voice barely a whisper. "You're gonna," he paused, swallowing. "You're gonna make me lose control, you know that?" Despite his words, he kept going, kept moving your head, even started to thrust his hips up to fuck your throat more thoroughly. His moans turned into what could only be described as growls, and the sound of them hit you like an electric shock, making you want him even more. If that were even possible. 

His claws kept scraping you, threatening to fully unsheath. But Miguel never let them. He finally let your head go, bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing it in exhaustion. You stayed on his cock for a moment longer, carefully lifting your head away and disconnecting from him with a wet pop.

He groaned to himself through his hands. 

"Miguel…? You alright?"

"No." He finally said, "no, I'm fucking not."

You cocked your head in surprise at the response, opening your mouth to question him further until you were cut off by him quickly grabbing you and positioning you underneath him. He was pinning your legs again, but you were faced down this time, your cheeks pressed against the soft sheets as he pushed you into the mattress. He finally let his claws out, and with one swift movement, tore your shorts and panties into ribbons. In that moment, you were glad he couldn't see your face. You were grinning like an idiot. Finally. You're finally seeing the side of him that you always knew was there. That you desperately wanted him to let out. Your previous encounters had been tame compared to this. He'd been holding back. 

"Because now," he grabbed your waist with both of his large hands, holding firm. "Now I know that you like being treated like a little fucktoy. I know that you'll be good for me and that you'll listen. What a rarity." He started to line up the tip of his cock with your entrance. "And if I thought you took up too much space in my head already, well-" he chuckled, pushing his tip into your pussy. "I'll never have peace of mind again."

He thrusted into you, and you were immediately seeing stars. With each pump, he took himself nearly all the way out of your warmth before plunging all the way back in. You could feel every delicious, hot inch of him. So deep and so filling. He fucked you into the mattress so thoroughly and so hard that you were convinced a crater was forming underneath the both of you. You felt the sharp points of his claws pricking your skin but not quite puncturing you. Your head swam as you grew dizzy. 

He released your waist, left hand steadying himself on the low headboard, which was bound to break again. His right arm snuck up underneath your right arm, reaching around your collarbone to grab at your left shoulder, pulling you up so you were close into him. His chest was flush with your back. You reached up to hold onto that arm for dear life, as he brought his mouth down to your ear. 

"Wanna bite you so bad, amor," he growled. "You smell so shocking good. Drivin' me up a fucking wall."

"Do it," you said, your voice strained.

"Wh-what?" His pace wavered. "You can't mean that."

"I- fuck- I do. Bite me, Miguel. Please."

"Are you," he exhaled a shaky breath. "Are you sure? It's a paralytic venom. I've- I've used it on Spiders before and we can withstand it a bit, but, shit… I need you to know what you're getting into." 

"Do it," you said again. 

His entire body shook against you. "Unbelievable…." His voice sounded reverent. "Hold on tight."

You listened, gripping his arm harder, shutting your eyes. His mouth came down to meet the crook of your neck. He inhaled, letting your scent wash over him, before carefully sinking his fangs into your skin. The pain was sharp and fast, and was quickly replaced with a wave of warmth and laxity. Your muscles loosened, allowing him to easily pull you in even closer. He moaned against you, his thrusts quickening, his cock feeling like it was hitting your cervix. With every smack of his skin against yours, he buried himself to the hilt. That incredible, intense feeling was building within you again, deep inside your core.

"Fuck," he hissed into your skin, releasing his jaws and lapping at the light trickle of crimson blood. "Good girl, good girl, I've got you."

He held you and didn't let go, caging you against his huge form, fucking you until that feeling turned into a huge sunburst that sent spots across your vision. Your body trembled involuntarily as you clenched around his cock. 

"Yes," he encouraged, "yes, come for me. Give it all to me. I've got you, bebé."

You smiled against the venom, and he was right, it wasn't too potent in your system. It was just enough to comfortably loosen your muscles. You came down from your high as he kept pumping into you, his pace merciless. His body started to shake again, his right hand's grip on your left shoulder tightening. 

“Too much for me to handle,” he rasped. “I’m gonna come… gonna come inside you.”

“Yes,” you croaked, finding your voice and gaining back enough control of your muscles to push yourself up into him. 

His tempo stuttered as he slammed his hips into you, curling against you as he came. His cock twitched inside of you, spilling hot seed in thick spurts. He held you there for a long while, savoring the feeling of being inside you, like he knew he'd miss the warmth once it was gone. Despite what he wanted, he let go of you and flipped onto his back beside you, placing a hand over his heart as his chest heaved. He closed his eyes, trying to compose himself. Silently reaching for you, he pulled you in so you could rest against his chest, your head rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. He stroked your hair as you stared up at him, his face glowing in the yellow shine of candlelight. 

"That…" he started to say, then stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I…. I needed that." 

You smiled, nuzzling into him. "Thank you." 

"You're thanking me?" He asked, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded. 

"Yeah," you said. "I feel like I finally saw Miguel tonight. Not Spider-Man. But Miguel. And I really like him." 

He rolled his eyes but still smiled, petting your head until you fell asleep on him.

[robo-dino-puppy]

alright I'm back at it :) friends help?

here's an extremely quick and dirty bg test - should I go with sky or no sky? I think the sky is a bit visually distracting, but then again so is that tree and I'm not getting rid of it...

here they are next to the HFW one (which also coincidentally has a dark thing in the background):

cover up the HZD one on each side alternately to compare them maybe?

the editing isn't that bad. her hair is annoying to work with (as always) but considering how many fewer images I have this time around I'm willing to do it lol

nobody mention the depth of field difference tho -_- HZD's DoF seems to work differently (worse imo) so I couldn't make it look more similar. unforch.

opinions welcome!

[wearethekingdom]

I'm sick of having to downplay my language. To explain to the people around me "Oh no I hate the class, love the language!" When this isn't even true. To have to listen to people complain about how awful it is, how they've always detested it and it sounds ridiculous when all I wanted to tell them was I enjoy the language

But it's more than enjoyment, it is my country's language, our native tongue, how is that not important? How does that mean nothing to you? How do you frown upon our irish teachers who are keeping our culture alive? They are doing what they can to have our language spoken

Irish shouldn't be political, Irish shouldn't be shamed, Irish shouldn't be pushed aside. I just want Irish to be taken seriously

[pencap]

By Sylvie (j.p.)

[alectoperdita]

the inability to follow hashtags kills the usability of bluesky entirely

[chaparralprincess]

one year ago today i was wandering around a bog in the redwoods looking to meet the beautiful and charismatic aroid native to the western US (and the only one native to california… besides duckweed i think) - the western skunk cabbage 🦨🥬🦨🥬 there were so many and they were so beautiful! 💐💐💐💐

the black and white photos were shot on my medium format mamiya rb67 on 120mm film :o)

also happy twin peaks day 🌲🍒����️🏔️🦉☕️

[becki-here]

Happy Thneedmas, dear @midzurugi !!

I found out about your oc's that related to Once-ler, so I decided that I can write a story about them!! It was a real challenge for me and it took more time than I expected so I'm very sorry it took so long. Happy New Year and hope you’ll enjoy this (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

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

Summary: it's a short and simple story about Christmas, the Once-ler and his two adorable reception kids Twice and Thrice. Here is the link to post with information about them.

(Maybe OOC? I think that Once-ler is a bit too sweet here, and I'm sorry if the kids are too OOC, I tried to stick to the information I knew about them).

***

“Hey kids, wake up!” Once-ler said enthusiastically, as he looked into each of the children's rooms. Then he quickly moved to the kitchen.

Shortly after they entered the hallway, sleepy footsteps were heard, followed by the sluggish "good morning" from both of them.

“Good morning, wash up and get ready for breakfast, today we will prepare for the holidays,” he said, watching the children perk up and head for the bathroom. 

Once-ler walked over to the table, where the dough was ready. He slowly began to prepare both children's favourite dish, pancakes. 

Soon, the door to the kitchen opened abruptly, and the children happily entered the room. They heard Once-ler humming something like a Christmas carol and smiled at that.

“Father, do you need help with something?” Twice asked as she and her brother sat at the table.

“No, sweetheart, don't worry, I can handle it myself,” he smiled at her and took the first pancakes off the pan. He put them on two plates and placed them on the table in front of the children.

“I just want you to help me decorate the Christmas tree and the house.”

“But father, it's only the beginning of December,” Thrice said.

“Dear, if I had a day off earlier, we would have started preparing for Christmas on the first of December,” he laughed. “But the demand for our products always increases during the holidays, so I don't have much free time now.”

He took out the honey and syrup and put it all on the table. “But... I want to spend every free minute together with you two,” Once-ler also took out milk and two glasses and smiled again.

The children smiled back and finally started eating their breakfast, while Once-ler continued to bake. “Then of course we'll help,” Twice said. 

One-ler looked at them with satisfaction. It seemed that his calm smile didn't leave his face today. In fact, on days like this, he was especially aware of how much he wanted to give these children all the things he had missed so badly. One of those things was an excellent holiday.

A tall, fluffy Christmas tree stood in the living room, waiting to be taken care of. A pile of large cardboard boxes covered the fireplace.

“Father, this Christmas tree is just incredible!” said Thrice when he entered the room. He walked over to the tree, touched a branch, then took a breath. “Oh, and it smells great.”

“Yeah, I know,” Once-ler looked at his son warmly and chuckled. “I'm sure you won't find a better Christmas tree in the whole town. It was delivered and set up while you were still asleep.”

After that, Once-ler went to the TV and inserted an old cassette into the player. Some old cartoon started playing.

“Could we put on something... newer?” asked Thrice, looking at the screen.

“Hey, it's a classic! And it's not that old, actually,” he muttered and went to unpack the toy boxes.

The jangly soundtrack played softly. Twice laughed and shrugged her shoulders at this as she looked at her brother. The teens walked closer to the boxes.

“You know, when I was little, we couldn't have a Christmas tree like this. We haven’t had many decorations either, but all of them are extremely beautiful as far as I remember. We haven’t decorated the house much, but we cooked a lot of different dishes. I really loved it," he took the garland out of the box and smiled warmly, a little lost in his memories.

“Actually, your grandmother wasn't a fan of Christmas, so we don't have any special traditions…”

Once-ler glanced at the children, who were listening to his story in confusion. A little surprise was clearly visible on their faces. Their father rarely talked about his past, especially his childhood. Every such moment was worth its weight in gold. Once-ler smiled and easily tossed Twice a skein of garland. She did not expect it, but she caught it skillfully. He took the end of the garland and climbed on a chair. 

“You should hang the garlands first,” he explained. “So that you can hang the Christmas ornaments later easily.” 

The children hung on his every word as if it were vital information. Once-ler wound the garland in a circle starting from the top, while Twice supported and helped wind it from the bottom. He plugged it into the extension cord and the whole tree shone with bright-colored lights. Now the excitement and festive mood began to fill the whole room.

At this time, Thrice sat down on the floor and opened the box, which contained a bunch of different Christmas decorations. He picked up a blue horse and looked at it with admiration.

“All these Christmas ornaments are new, you didn't bring any from your family home, as you were going to?” Thrice asked.

“Well no... I decided that we need new ones. The old family ornaments have no value, and as I said, there weren't many of them. But we will give value to these new ones once they are on our Christmas tree," he went to the box and took out a green bauble decorated with gold patterns. He carefully hung it on a middle branch. 

“And there it is. The first ball on the tree and now the decorating has officially begun,” he said playfully.

“There are many similar baubles here,” Twice said, looking into the box. "We should start with these and hang them symmetrically, and then we can take on the others.”

“You're right as always, dear,” he put his hand on her shoulder. "Let's start with these.”

Gradually, more and more coloured baubles appeared on the tree. Then the little reindeer ran around it, glass icicles and cones grew on it. All three of them were jokingly arguing about where to hang which ornament and lively discussing the upcoming holidays and their plans for them. A pleasant family atmosphere filled the room, while the music from an old movie added its own charm to the situation.

“I have something else,” Once-ler said when they were done with the tree. He reached into one box that stood apart from the others, as if it were hidden. He pulled out something of a deep red colour.

“Oh, it’s Christmas stockings!” Thrice said with delight and took a stocking with his name neatly embroidered on it.

“They're so beautiful... Are they handmade?” Twice asked as she took her one.

“Yes, of course... I actually made them. For the three of us,” Once-ler said and laughed lightly. The children's eyes widened with surprise and some joy.

“That's very cool, thank you!” Thrice said zealously. 

“Yes, thank you,” Twice said softly.

“You're welcome, darlings. I was very happy to make them,” Once-ler slightly blushed at the children's reaction. He looked at his stocking and slowly read his name to himself.

“Well... We also have to wrap presents for all relatives. But I haven't bought them yet, we'll have to postpone that,” he thought out loud. Then he thought about when he would find a free time to do that.

“I could draw some little cards,” Thrice suggested. “As a nice addition to the gifts we've given them.”

“That sounds nice, I hope they'll appreciate it,” Once-ler realized that in fact each of them was expecting an envelope with some money in it, so usual gifts would be just a traditional formality. 

“Do we have to invite all of our close relatives to Christmas Eve?” Twice asked, a little displeased.

“Yes, of course we do. They're waiting for an invitation, and they'll never turn down a dinner,” he smiled a little irritated. But he quickly calmed down. “Maybe one day one of them will invite us as well.”

“I doubt that very much,” Twice hummed.

Thrice looked away awkwardly, but deep down he agreed with his sister.

“I know that you think they're not the best people. But they're still my family. And that means your family, too,” he sighed and thought as he sat down on the floor by the Christmas tree and took some tinsel out of the box. “And there are certain values and principles that must be upheld in a family.”

He picked at the tinsel, squeezed it in his hands, trying to gather his thoughts together.

“I would like to convey these values to you,” he looked up at the girl and then at the boy. "For example, about Christmas. This holiday is not only about decorating a Christmas tree, gifts, or the birthday of Jesus Christ. It's about a family coming together. Just how we are now. And this holiday encourages you to do something good for your neighbour, especially for your relatives. Do you understand?"

“Yes, of course... It's obvious,” Thrice answered and sighed to himself.

Twice nodded when Once-ler's gaze settled on her.

“These words seem like very simple truths, but it still should be said out loud. I would have been grateful to my mother if she had told me that,” he smiled a little sadly and finally got up from the floor, with the tinsel in his hand. “Well... Let's finish with the stockings.”

Twice looked at her socking and carefully ran her thumb over the golden embroidery. “We can hang them on little hooks and decorate them with the tinsel,” she said, glancing cautiously at Once-ler.

“Yes, my dear, that's a wonderful idea,” he smiled gently at her. “I've taken care of that, too.” 

He left the tinsel and reached into the same box where the stockings were. He took out three small hooks and began to carefully attach them to the mantelpiece. Thrice jumped up and hung his stocking on the leftmost hook. Once-ler and Twice followed suit. Then Twice decorated the fireplace with bright green tinsel. Once-ler looked at the fireplace with smile and then proudly at both of his children.

***

A loud laugh suddenly filled the room. The children were listening to another strange story from their father. They didn't believe some of his words, how ridiculous it sounded. But it was definitely true. Classical Christmas music was playing from the old record player. Outside the window, the snow was still falling calmly, preparing the entire valley for winter.

[sitting-on-me-bum]

Shiprock Panorama

Considered by Native Americans to be one of the most significant places on Earth, colossal Shiprock - rising seemingly out of nowhere from the flat, high desert of New Mexico dramatically into the sky - is certainly a very special sight to experience in any kind of light, but especially with early morning sun.

Photographer: Christoph Stopka

[artsfromspace]

Kriekra (Deinonychus)

In the world of The king-eaters' grief, Kriekras - or as they're known scientifically, Deinonychus - are used as attack and war animals. Athanasios had to leave his favourite, Adler, behind when he left the army :(

They may or may not be identical to Deinonychus antirrhopus but my logic here was that there'd be a lot more epithets referring to visual/non-skeletal traits if the actual animal was around!

Referenced Scott Hartmann's skeletal but I don't know if I did a very good job lol.

[rabbitcruiser]

The Dinosaur National Monument was declared a national monument on October 4, 1915.

[xawkward-ariesx]

Why is it so difficult to find a lunar calendar from the 10th century? I don't think I'm asking for too much

[jasmancer]

I have once again taken a nap for too long too late ❤️

[lighthouseborn]

i understand and even like carrd as info host for its mobile accessibility but it's genuinely so bizarre to me that people ever made the move to go/ogle doc.s over just. having pages on your blog theme.

[lollich0p-fr]

88x31 buttons of a lot of my dragons :) click for proper resolution!