#stilt legged flies

[vrgssmncht]

Just uploaded two videos on YouTube... it's bugs and a monitor lizard eating a fish!

Compressed tumblr ver of the bugs(flies, the stilt legged variety) for the soul.. they're from the genus Adrama.. Though it's more like two dramas here haha- (EXPLODES)

[jupiterswasphouse]

[VIDEO AND PHOTO TAKEN: MAY 15TH, 2023 | Video and Image IDs: A video and four photos of a dark multi-colored (metallic blue, red, black, white, and orange) stilt-legged fly, waving its front legs around. In the video it is standing on a green leaf of a small plant, while in the photos it is standing on a rough grey concrete brick /End ID.]

I've never seen this kind of fly before! Apparently, the reason why it's waving its front legs around like that is because it's trying to mimic the antenna motions of a wasp, as a defense mechanism! Another interesting instance of a bug saying "Don't fuck with me" by way of dance,,,

[crevicedwelling]

micropezid stilt-legged fly, Malaysia.

these jaunty ichneumon-mimicking flies are a common sight in Southeast Asia, but I never got tired of their antics.

[monstersinthecosmos]

Vamptember Day 11 - Aphrodisiac

{northern lite - right now}

He watches from a booth in the corner. 

It’s a bit too loud in here, but he likes the pulse of the bass, the way runs through the leather  beneath him and the way it makes his glass buzz against the table and the way it even vibrates the cloth of his pant legs. He stretches his arms out over the back of the couch, sinking into all the sensation, enjoying all the balmy human heat trapped in the room. 

Daniel is out on the dance floor, smiling as he holds a woman by the waist. His eyes light up in a way that they never do at home. And it’s not just that he can still pass a human, but that he can pass as a young one. He fits right in with all the students, and Marius wonders if it’s his way of taking back something Armand stole from him.

His hands raise above his head as he dances along to the electronic melody in the music, shirt lifting just enough to see a stripe of his belly and the wiry hair beneath his navel. Skin flushed pink from feeding, and it takes so little to get him looking alive again. Young enough for that. Still so soft.

And then a man behind him. The woman’s boyfriend, Marius assumes. They make eye contact above Daniel’s shoulder, as if this is a thing they do. Timeless, that; Marius had been similarly adopted by a couple when he was alive, too. He can’t help the smile as he watches, as the man leans into Daniel’s back, says something in his ear, as his palm anchors against Daniel’s exposed midriff.

The woman presses in to Daniel’s front, lifting up on her toes to kiss her boyfriend over Daniel’s shoulder, then turns to kiss Daniel’s cheek. The desire crackle through the entire room,  reaching Marius even in his dark little corner, even beneath the thick human humidity. Daniel’s thirst strikes him weak as she kisses him on the mouth next, and Marius catches the way his hands stutter at his sides, flexing in and out of fists, as he tries to resist hurting her.

Marius sits up. Watches closer, ready to step in If Daniel needs. Doing so much better lately, but still so young. 

Do you want to come sit? he asks. The man’s hand is drifting, petting over Daniel’s zipper. Invite them for a drink.

Daniel’s hair flies around him as he snaps his head to the side, finding Marius across the chaotic space. None of the humans seem to notice the unnatural glow of his eyes, the way they catch the colored lights. 

And he’s been so much better. Doing so well. But sometimes Marius isn’t sure which Daniel to expect. He might accept the offer as easily as he might become defensive and oppose just for the sake of it. The smallest things used to set him off. 

But, no. He speaks into the woman’s ear, and turns to kiss the man on the mouth, then nods towards their booth. The woman’s fingers hook into a belt loop on Daniel’s jeans as she follows him, as they weave through the sea of bodies, and finally slide in around the table.

Thomas and Bente, their names are. University students. A little out of breath as they settle into the couch, practically on top of each other. 

“This is my boyfriend, Mars,” Daniel says, speech stilted as he tries to shout over the music. 

Boyfriend, hmm. That’s new. 

Marius smiles politely, and beckons for a waitress. Orders them all a round of drinks. And it’s too loud to carry on a conversation, but Thomas and Bente curl against each other. Drunk enough to lose their modesty, perhaps comfortable enough in the shadows for Thomas’s hand to sneak beneath her shirt. 

Daniel’s hand rests on Marius’s thigh, nails digging in as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Getting overwhelmed, perhaps, and Marius turns to kiss his temple.

Are you all right?

Daniel nods. He breathes through his mouth, lips parted like he’s drunk. Perhaps he is. He usually comes away from the dancefloor with a cocktail of things in his blood. Club drugs, like the kids do today. 

They’re on molly, Daniel tells him, and he shudders. Shuts his eyes, nuzzles his face into Marius’s throat.

So you’re on molly, no? Marius asks. Daniel giggles.

His whole body is warm. Barely any blood and he’s feeling human again. Soft and clammy, feverish little thing. His lips drag cross the side of Marius’s neck, teeth grazing. He has permission, of course, but it’s as if he restrains himself for the recreation of it.

Thomas grunts, from the other side of the booth, and Daniel looks over towards them. Bente straddling his lap now, and her hand is not-so-subtly dipping into the front of his pants. Daniel squeezes harder into Marius’s thigh, until it actually hurts.

“Hey,” Marius says out loud. He lifts Daniel’s gaze with a finger beneath his chin, to stare into his eyes. 

He must have been so beautiful when he was alive. Boyish like this. Marius can imagine him, before Louis and Armand, before all the fear. He can imagine the innocence.

“I’m hungry,” he whispers, but Marius hears it over the music. 

Marius brushes a strand of hair from Daniel’s eyes. 

“I used to feel this way,” he explains. He cups a hand around Daniel’s cheek, and can feel the heat in his palm where Daniel is blushing. “Those first few decades, I remember. I was hungry all the time.”

“It’s different, it’s—”

“Like you’re still human, like you could die,” Marius says. Daniel swallows hard, and nods. He glances over at his new friends in time to see Thomas’s hand slide up beneath her skirt. “They want to take you home. And you want to go, don’t you?”

Tiny noise creeps out of Daniel’s throat. He nods.

“It’s hard, when you’re this young,” Marius says. His hand sweeps down across Daniel’s shoulders, where his shirt is damp and sticking to him. “Your body doesn’t know what to do with all the arousal. You’d let them fuck you, but you just want their blood.”

“Yeah…”

“Sweetheart, you must be starving.”

He hears the pitch of Daniel’s heart, even over the music. His pupils blow wide in the dark, as if tapping into his true predator. Big and dark and glossy from the drugs. They stare at each other for a moment, and Marius takes a peek inside, pretending that it’s just to check on him.

And it’s music in there, enjoying the DJ. And the scrape of Thomas’s stubble against his jaw earlier, and the taste of Bente’s lipgloss. And their veins, delicately humming beneath their skin, their tender little heartbeats, the heady rush of molly when Daniel had sipped from them. And the strain, like he could scream, when he forced himself to stop. Only taking a little, the way Marius taught him. The hunger aches, and he sees red, and he remembers when he was human and Armand would ruin his orgasms for fun.

But now he just stares into Marius’s face, and it gives him that chill. Intoxicating feeling of powerlessness, like he’s small, thrilling erotic rush of subservience.

I want to kiss him, Daniel thinks.

The corner of Marius’s mouth quirks as he tries to hide the grin. This is new, too, isn’t it,

“How very human of you,” Marius muses.

But Daniel is in his lap, almost instantly. Straddling him, holding his shoulders. Leaning in for it.

New. All these years living together, and with Daniel drinking his blood, it wasn’t exactly like this. Things have felt so tidy and safe and uncomplicated.

Daniel moans into it, and his mouth fills with blood. His fingers comb through Marius’s hair, one hand cupping around the back of his head as the other plants hard against his chest, feeling for his ancient heartbeat.

Never tasted Daniel’s blood before. Felt respectful to keep that boundary, perhaps. But even Marius is not immune to the charm.

You taste like your maker, Marius thinks. 

Marius’s own blood, filtered down like this. Electric pull in his body, like the Blood inside knows it. He savors the flavor, licking into Daniel’s mouth, holding him by the hips. Untamed, full of hurt. So very desperate to take a life.

Do you want to go home with them, Daniel? he asks, as his tongue probes into the open wounds. And he sees the answer immediately, the way Daniel imagines it. Their bodies, and the heat. He imagines watching them together, and drinking them after, and he recoils, his mouth still red, as he imagines killing them.

“You won’t,” Marius reassures. He licks Daniel’s blood from his teeth, and rubs the tops of Daniel’s thighs. “I’ll keep them safe from you. We can go, if you want to.”

Daniel breathes hard, like a mortal. Mouth open, and he looks lost, too turned on for words.

“You can watch them, the way your maker watched you, if that’s what you want,” Marius says. He leans forward and kisses Daniel again, biting him on the lip as he pulls away. “Is that what you want?”

And he’s trembling, panting, thirst flowing off of him like heat as he nods his head. 

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Jaune: Okay, just what the fuck am I looking at?

Ruby: I've made stilts Mate.

Jaune: This is something I expect from a drunkard in Vacuo, NOT YOU!

Ruby: You're just jealous.

Jaune: Trust me when I say I'm not jealous of your Go Go gadget Extendo Legs.

Ruby: But I have the high ground.

Jaune: Did you just make these stilts for a High-Ground Joke?

Ruby: Nooooo?

Jaune: Be honest.

Ruby: Maybe.

Jaune: I will trip you up.

Ruby: Okay Fine, I did, and you know what? it was worth it you Knob.

Jaune: It's crap!

Ruby: You're Crap!

Jaune: I hope a Nevermore 'Accidently' Flies into you Rumple-stilt-skin!

Ruby: Excuse Me?

Jaune: Yeah, and What? It's a play-on words! better than your High-Ground Reference you overgrown weed.

[lupine-trees]

e·ther

/ˈēTHər/ noun

the clear sky; the upper regions of air beyond the clouds

late Middle English: from Old French, or via Latin from Greek aithēr ‘upper air’, from the base of aithein ‘burn, shine’.

[an airy, august not-so-micro fic, inspired by @drarrymicrofic nonetheless. for the prompt “ethereal.”~]

word count: 988

After the end, they all believe Harry comes back tired. Exhausted, war-struck, sleepless and dazed.

Everyone but Draco. Who watches and catches the glistening edges of him, who notices that his eyes aren’t empty, not hollow, just away.

He finds him at the quidditch pitch, that ramshackle final school year, day after day after day after day. He’s difficult to find there on account of how difficult he is to spot; that is, he is a spot, a near-indiscernible speck, a dust mote, broomstick wayward, skyward, cloud-bound, high.

For weeks, Draco peeks from beneath the bleachers, catching glimpses against the grey Scottish sky. Then for months, he clambers up them and reads, novels (Dickens, Austen, Woolf— yes, he quite likes Woolf), keeping Harry carefully in his periphery.

It happens every day, weather conditions be damned. Draco never catches him on the ascent, never sees him mount his broom, and wonders how long he’s flying (how long he can fly, and how high, and why, and— tangentially— how he is passing any of his classes). Harry sees him there, or knows, he must know, but he never says— never stops, never asks, never breathes a word to Draco.

The year rolls over and away, and they graduate. (Draco assumes Harry graduates— he isn’t at the ceremony, but they call his name, because of course.)

Draco goes to Wiltshire, the Manor, home, as it were. He spends long, muggy days in the gardens, wandering the footpaths and the outer meadows, circling the fountains and the pond, weaving through the orchard (a relief— birdsong, and the low hum of bees, something other than the echoing silence).

He reads and reads and delays the inevitable (work— some menial Ministry job, likely, once he acquiesces to applying— overworked & unsalaried & embarrassingly, he will love it anyway, but for now, a summer: slow, waiting).

It’s the first of August when he appears, broomstick in hand, standing stiff on the Manor steps. He doesn’t look tired now, just itchy, achy, combustible. He fiddles with the zipper of his windbreaker as Draco opens the door.

“Happy birthday,” Draco says, because it was, or, well, because he hopes it was, anyway.

“Do you want to go flying?” Harry answers.

“Oh,” Draco says, stilted, his arms crossed carefully over his middle. “I haven’t been. Not since—” He gestures vaguely at Harry.

Harry stops fidgeting. “Okay,” he says, “Alright,” and turns to go.

“I can watch! If you— if you want to fly. Here. It’s good for it. Or anyway, it used to be. So.”

Harry looks at him, those eyes an inquisition, an invasion, and Draco feels the warmth under his collar licking up towards his ears.

Harry nods, and turns, and for the first time, Draco sees him lift off. A careless leg thrown swift across the broomstick, an intuitive tilt that lifts him, zipping away before his tatty canvas sneaker ever even touches the ground. Something in Draco’s chest catches at the sight (never mind he’s seen it a hundred times over, and even this before, technically, Harry in red, himself in green, slinging upwards with the goal of winning, of being better— but that wasn’t this).

Harry flies like a creature born with wings. Like something made for it.

So, he flies. And Draco reads (The Metamorphosis, Kafka, devastating & remarkable). Day in, and out, and August slips away.

Harry flies like he’s trying to get somewhere. High above the Manor, above ancient treetops, sometimes above the clouds. There are days he breaks across the sky, like lightning. There are days he carves lazy circles through the atmosphere. And there are days he just… sits there. Floating. Suspended.

Draco takes to bringing along fruit. Apples, peaches, plums, which they eat, when Harry lands, sticky-fingered and dusky and quiet (What are you doing now school’s done? Have you been back to Diagon? Are you staying at Grimmauld? Are you staying here? How are your friends? How is your mother? Don’t you get tired of flying? Don’t you get tired of not?).

On the last day of August, Harry tries again.

“Do you want to come with me?”

Draco swallows. And breathes.

“I—” He breathes and breathes and breathes.

Harry nods, extends a hand. “Come with me.”

“Okay,” Draco says.

Harry throws his leg over the broom and holds it steady as Draco clambers on behind him.

“Hold on,” Harry murmurs, and Draco places tentative hands at his sides, the warm skin underneath sticking to the threadbare T-shirt. Harry takes his hands, pulls Draco forward, in, wrapping his arms firmly around his middle.

“Hold on,” he repeats, something light in his tone.

And then: flight, fast. Their feet leave the ground, and Draco can’t help but hold him then, his face tucked into his shoulder, eyes nearly shut against the onslaught of air, sharp and crisp against his face, cool against the summer heat of his skin.

They lift and lift and lift, and Draco isn’t very sure he’s breathing at all, the world falling away beneath them. And then it happens: something in the air shifts, clears, lifts, shimmers. The sky, too bright to be blue, too air to be sky, opens around them. It’s impossible not to breathe, to drink it in. They stop. Draco gasps at the sudden stillness, swallows in mouthfuls of, of—

“It’s—” he says, blinking, hands at Harry’s stomach. He leans back, looks around: there’s nothing here, but it’s a good nothing, a full nothing. Sky and sky and sky. It shines. It burns. He laughs, tension uncoiling in his chest, then breathes out, settling against the solid plane of Harry’s back. “It’s really something,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. It’s really something.

When they land, the world isn’t different, except in the small ways that it is. September lays before them, not summer, but something, and there is time, still and plenty, for fruit and reading and flying.

[carrs-universe-writes]

Hey kid, you want... the first rough draft of page one of the novel version of Wolfwater?

WC: 546

**

Waking up with a sharp gasp, skin tacky with a cold sweat, the alarm clock next to their bed reads ten o'clock. A cold breeze makes them shiver and they look over to realize their window is wide open, which they're sure they closed before going to bed. 

Alex’s legs are unsteady when they stand; the sound of their heart pounding in their ears is the only sound they can hear and their tense muscles make walking across the room difficult. Closer to the window, they notice several shallow gouges in the wood of the windowsill. When they touch them, they seem strangely cold- colder than the winter wind blowing outside.

There's a flutter of wings and a caw that's almost drowned out by the wind howling. Alex squints, trying to make out anything through the snow blowing so heavily that it obscures the light of the full moon; and only when the streetlight under their window flashes and buzzes do they realize it's been off the whole time.

A final strong gust of wind that blows a face full of cold snow through the open window as they slam it shut. The old locks fight back when they try to close them, and in the end, they only get one of the two locks securely closed. Their fingers are stiff from the frozen metal, but they can’t be entirely sure if the pain is from the latches biting into their skin or if it’s all in their head. 

They yawn and rub their face, knowing there's no way they'll get back to sleep now. Alex stretches out their back as they walk towards the bathroom and sighs in relief when their spine pops. 

The old pipes groan in protest when they turn on the tap. They splash their face with some warm water and look up in the mirror, finding nothing but their own exhausted face reflected back at them. They lightly trace the bags under their eyes, the physical evidence of their sleeping troubles becoming even worse as of late.

Before Alex has the chance to catalog every flaw on their face, a shiver travels up their back and they look out into their bedroom to see their window half open again. They pinch the bridge of their nose and curse under their breath, stomping out of the bathroom. They’ve barely made it back out into their bedroom before they stop dead in their tracks. 

An enormous bird perches on their window sill; the feathers along its chest and neck are missing, the skin twisted into an angry burn. It watches them with a curious tilt of its head, staring at them with empty, dead blue eyes. A faint smell of putrid, rotting meat wafts in from the bird, who seems unbothered by the freezing wind whipping around it. Something about this bird makes Alex’s heart beat faster and their hands shake as they stare into its cold eyes, something strangely human.

Adrenaline courses through their body when they see the bird make a sharp, stilted movement forward. They nearly trip over their own feet in their haste forward to slam the window closed as hard as they can. 

The bird makes a noise that could almost count as offended as it flies away. 

[eastcoastboyos]

Pivot

Unable to sleep, Joel and I get out of the warm tent and decide to wander the darkness. On our way down the creepy boardwalk, we tepidly dodge blades of grass, having been traumatized from the earlier tick running up my leg. We make our way to the beach and it is empty, dark, and ominous but lit by a full starry sky. We chat and stargaze.

Poor Dylan is fully sick now and can't be getting the best sleep. He borrows one of Joel's eye masks. Allen is also not 100% and craves the AC of the van and hotel. The day's low is 28C. The tent is warm and uncomfortable.

In the morning, Joel and I awaken by the light and sneak out of the tent again, letting the others continue sleeping. We walk to the ocean more and wade into the water. After some convincing, Joel joins me in jumping into the ocean and we enjoy the renvigoration of the waves that remind us of West Edmonton Mall Water Park. The beach is beautiful and empty of the off road trucks that saturated it the day prior.

Assembling ourselves, we mosie to the ferry terminal to Ocracoke Island. We scrounge for coffee, which Joel finds via a vending machine, and meander the nearby shops. We talk relationships on the ferry while dodging sea spit and watch the seagulls ride the air flow above the ferry. Allen zonks out and snoozes in the van. The group decides they don't really want to camp another day in the incessant heat, and Joel books a spur of the moment hotel in Jacksonville, NC.

Orcacoke is an interesting island. All the locals drive golf carts around which we evny in the hot sun. Most buildings are on stilts or owned by rental companies. Seeking food, we stop at Smacnallys for fish sandwiches and plates of shrimp. We do a bit of shopping in the sunny heat and Joel is unfortunately scammed a tip at a local ice cream shop. Joel gives them a calm but firm piece of his mind, and after 15 minutrs of walking, we see a $1.30 reimbursement show up on his email.

After checking out the local lghthouse, we retreat into the van. Dylan, Joel, and I are sunburnt. The group starts to slow down. Waiting around the next ferry terminal, we explore the local fauna and restrooms. Joel entertains me with facts on the meaning of the word "Horizontal and puns like "Imma lichen this bench". Dylan becomes addicted to trader Joe's Licorice.

Arriving back at the mainland, the sun is setting. Our GPS starts going wonky so we have to disconnect and Joel navigates verbally. The surfboard on top of the Jeep in front of us almost flies off and someone is lighting off fireworks near the glass station. We are eager to get to our hotel, but still are over an hour away.

Picking up aloe vera at a massive Walmart, Dylan and Allen are pretty much spent. The mood is low but functional, and we are forced to the drive through of a Wendy's once we realize their doors are not open. Watching cockroaches outside, the staff inform us they are out of chicken and we pivot to beef. Allen is zonked and sleeping again (Sleepytime Tylenol coming in clutch) and the rest of us swap work stories having perked up with food.

The hotel is cheap but cool ���️. Joel, Blake, and I inspect what appears to be pubes on a bedroom door. I discover that I have left my stinky shoes in my suitcase the entire day seasoning in the hot van, and my clothes smell like ass. Blake and Joel sip beers. Time for bed.

Derek

[supremebirdbracket]

LEGGY and a fan favorite!

Black-necked stilts inhabit lakes, estuaries, salt ponds, and wetlands in western North America, Central America, and northern South America. They eat invertebrates and fish, and have been recorded herding fish into shallow water to trap them. Breeding pairs cooperate in building nests and incubating eggs. While semi-colonial when nesting, they are very territorial during the breeding season. Parent stilts have been known to feign weak or sick behavior to distract predators from their young. Relative to their body size, black-necked stilts have the second-longest legs of any bird, after only the flamingos.

Killdeer, named for their call, are commonly found throughout most of North and Central America as well as northern South America. They reside on beaches and in coastal wetlands and fields, preferring to forage in fields with standing water. They mostly eat insects, especially beetles and flies, but also other invertebrates as well as seeds. Their characteristic “killdeer” calls are made as a mating display. Both parents care for a nest, and are famous for feigning a broken wing to distract predators from their young.

[ghoulangerlee]

In honor of Mass Effect 3 turning 12 today, here's an expansion on a scene from the beginning of the third game but make it Ghost. yeah in this instance Aether is Kaidan. I can't help it, my fav tortured guy in my mind it works :).

-

"I think...I'll be ready to retire after this," Copia says, somewhat stilted, his eyes tracking a shuttle as it flies across the sky, "They're going to offer me a deal, or so I've heard. Honorable discharge as long as I plead guilty to the charges."

Phantom looks up from where he'd been examining the barrel of his rifle, "Just like that?" he can't help but ask, "...sir." he tacks on at the end, glancing over at Copia's back—he's got a weariness to him, a tightness of his shoulders that's almost tangible through the blue lf his Alliance Navy uniform.

Copia sniffs, and settles his hands behind his back at a parade rest as he continues to track shuttles across the Vancouver sky. "I made a bad call and that call cost thousands of lives," he murmurs. "I think I've reached a point where I've made enough bad calls for a lifetime."

Phantom watches him for a moment, "And what about the Reapers?" He asks, careful—he'd heard of them, seen them of course, fought the horrifying things that came from them.

Copia turns then, just enough that Phantom can see the wry smile on his lips, he looks like he wants to bare his teeth, launch into a tirade, but instead, the lines even out and he shakes his head, "Saltarian will have to lead the charge for that," he says, "I think my days as a military man are over."

Before Phantom can say something to dissuade him or convince him to not give up, this version of the Commander is something he's not used to seeing, less head strong and more willing to give into whatever's thrown at him, there's a knock at the door, a rushed sound signaling that the council is ready for the hearing.

"Ah," Copia says, he turns fully and crosses the room with careful steps, "Seems my time is up, yes?" He asks, there's humor coloring his tone as he comes to stand by Phantom, "Lead the way, Lieutenant. The Council awaits."

Phantom presses his lips together and nods once, roughly, as he turns to enter the code to unlock the door—they whoosh apart, and Copia steps out first, and it feels wrong to have his weapon pointed at the very same man who had saved the galaxy not only once, but twice now.

But he does it, "Let's go," he says, choosing to keep his weapon pointed towards the floor, towards Copia's legs, "Straight down the hall here."

Copia goes easily, there's a nervousness about him that no one else would notice, but Phantom's observant, he's been with Copia since Copia turned himself in several months ago.

He sees the nervousness.

The way his eyes dart around him.

It's shitty.

So shitty.

(Hours later, he and Aether are grabbing Copia's arms and hauling him up onto the Normandy, Phantom watching somewhat uselessly as Saltarian declares him reinstated loudly from the ground while Reapers ravage Vancouver around them.

They're all covered in gunk from whatever creatures the Reapers have created this time, and Copia's dog tags are held tightly in his fist as he turns to them, nervousness forgotten, slipping back into the Commander persona as he settles back into it all.

"Ready for one last ride?" He asks rherorically, eyes darting between Aether and Phantom, before he walks past the two of them and further into the ship.)

[somethingswell]

Look Over The Land ("Lít yvir landið")

Come up to the mountaintop, look out over the Faroes! So exquisite an image! Our spirit rises up here. Here a thousand languages chorus of cliffs and stones and crests. Sing out, my joyful soul, chant alongside the birds!

Oh memorable cliffs, adorned with green terrace! That power was not feeble which built them in earlier times. Still noble, strong, and wild all looks, out over sea, so eerily still by night, lively and rich by day.

Here the puffin builds its nest and the fulmar and gull and dove; near shore sit red-legged guillemot; here the common guillemot walk closely about the scree, and the razorbill flies high to the uppermost cliff face.

The noble fells smile in the sunshine, all so weather-worn with flowers among moss, so dense like saw teeth – fifteen mountains in all – north from Velba toward Skeið and Ambadal.

In flowery adornment now all the hillsides glimmer; over slopes and bridges passes the warm summer breeze; it tames the falls, enriches basins and gullies, strengthens the wild horse, nourishes the lamb and colt.

Hear murmurs, whispers, chatter from small river falls and the pealing ka-ka of blue fisher gulls, and black gulls' answering cry. On the crystal clear pond a duck is elated with its red-cheeked young.

And down below the farm the bright green field with crops all around many stories are remembered of labor and drudging work, many an exhausting hour. Yes, we must thank those who cleared the ground here.

Low houses dense by the cobble, in pleasant arrangement, so tarred and brown with green turf roofs, and the church close by so classical to behold, just as it shines a light on peace in every village and town.

And down below, the boathouse stands with pitched boats; where children fish like the best, where flocks of ducks sway. A young cod so red rushes into the weeds, and the black gull flies down to snatch the cod's meat.

There is no foam on the cape, all the pools are resting; through reefs and skerries glides a piece of driftwood. So tranquill rows a boat in toward the beach, and over a calm fjord the sun is clear and pleasant.

From the peaks to the sand smiling and pleasant, you, Faroe Islands, fill every breast with summer joy. God give us wisdom, God give us strength to work to worship you, to work to your gain.

(poem by Mikkjal á Ryggi, 1954 // translated from Faroese by me)

Original

Kom upp á fjallatind, lít yvir Føroyalandið! So undurføgur mynd! Her lyftist upp vár andi. Her runga túsund mál um rók og reyn og røð. Gev ljóð, mín glaða sál, um kapp við fuglin kvøð!

O minnilig bjørg, væl skrýdd við grønum skorum! Tann kraft var ikki kørg, sum bygdi tey í forðum. Tó stórbært, prútt og vilt alt lítur yvir sjó, á nátt so trølsligt stilt, á degi lív og ljóð.

Her byggir lundin lond og havhestur og ryta og dúgvan; dygst við strond reyðføttir teistar sita; her lomvigan so tøtt fer ruggandi um rók, og álkan bringubrøtt sær ytstu upsu tók.

Tey hábærsligu fjøll í sólarljómar brosa, so veðurbard flest øll við blomstrum millum mosa, so tætt sum tenn í sag – væl fimti fjøll í tall – alt norð frá Velbastað mót Skeið og Ambadal.

Í blomsturvovnum skrúð nú líðir allar glógva; um brekkur og um brú fer summarlotið flógva; tað spekir mangan foss, tað fríðkar lægd og gil, tað stimbrar brasin ross, tað frøir lomb og fyl.

Hoyr tutl og tesk og sjóð frá áarfossum smáum og klingandi kó-kó frá fiskimásum bláum, og skurin svarar pli. Á spegilsblonku tjørn ein toppont fegnast við tey kjálkareyðu børn.

Og niðan fyri garð hin bjarti grøni bøur við veltum víða hvar man goyma mangar søgur um tusk og tógvið slit, um manga sveitta stund. Ja, takka mugu vit teim, sum her ruddu grund.

Lág hús so tøtt um tún í hugnaligum lagi, so tjørubrædd og brún og takt við grønum flagi, og kirkjan dygst har við so ellismild at sjá, rætt sum hon lýsti frið um bygd og bø og vág.

Og niðanfyri neyst við bræddum bátum standa; har veiða børn sum best, har æðuflokkar danda. Ein berggylta so reyð sær inn í taran rann, tá likkan niður fleyg og livrabroddar fann.

Nú hvítir ei við nes, nú hvíla allar íður; fram millum flúr og fles ein rekastubbi glíður. So stillisliga rør ein bátur inn mót lógv, og yvir slættan fjørð sær sólin blonk og flógv.

Av tindum út um sand so brosandi og fegið tú fyllir, Føroyaland, hvønn barm við summargleði. Gud geri okkum vís, Gud gevi okkum magn at virka tær til prís, at nøra um títt gagn.

[jupiterswasphouse]

[PHOTO TAKEN: MAY 18TH, 2023 | Image ID: A photo of a black, red, brown, yellow and white stilt-legged fly on a green leaf, holding out its front legs /End ID.]

[what-bug-is-this]

What Bug Is This? 35: Stilt-Legged Flies

You'll notice that unlike previous What Bug is This? posts, this one has a video rather than a picture. That's because in addition to their body shape, the front leg wiggling is an easy way to identify these flies. It's easier just to show it than to describe it.

Video from Bug of the Week

Common name(s): stilt-legged flies (not to be confused with stilt bugs or long-legged flies which are their own things)

Scientific name: family Micropezidae

Can it hurt me?: No

Can it hurt my plants?: No

Should I kill it?: No

Anything else I should know?:

While not all stilt-legged flies perform the leg wiggling, a good number of them do. It's also the only time non-entomologists even tend to notice their existence since it looks a little odd and is eye-catching. There's still some debate as to whether they do the leg wiggling to signal availability to mates or to mimic the antennae of parasitoid wasps to discourage predators. It could also be both. There hasn't been a whole lot of research into these guys. There are about 500 known species.

[onenicebugperday]

@enbyboiwonder submitted: I saw this cool-looking bug at the Dallas Arboretum. These were the best photos I could get with leaves in the way—didn’t wanna jostle the plant and scare them off. Are they good enough for an ID?

I also saw a few of these beautifully iridescent flies

Based on that silly snoot, I'd say the first dude is a type of picture-winged fly. But I'd need to see photos of the wings to say for sure. And the second dude is a long-legged fly in Condylostylus :) Very cute!

Update: changed my mind! Stilt-legged fly is more likely than a picture-winged fly :)

[mosquitogirl]

whats ur favorite kind of bug!!! love u :)

honestly i have too many to just pick just one so here's a little list from me to u <3

parasitoid wasps (a huge grouping but i like chalcidoids, cynipids, large ichneumonids and the really tiny stuff like fairy wasps)

assassin bugs (Zelus spp., wheel bugs and ambush bugs in particular)

elephant mosquitos (honestly if i HAD to pick one i'd probably say these)

robber flies (especially the big ones)

stilt-legged flies (highly recommend watching their little dances)

and probably more that i'm forgetting!! the beautiful thing about insects is that there is always more out there to discover. you could reasonably know all the mammals but it's just not possible with insects or really any other arthropod. ive been interested in bugs for about 10 years now and i'm still learning new things!!

the website i linked a lot here, bugguide, is a really wonderful resource and i recommend just clicking around on there and going through some of the tabs for anything you might be interested in ^_^ thank u for your message <3

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

amber so have you seen the post of you saying ‘this is my ex-boyfriend steve’ and steve’s like ‘i told you to stop introducing me like this’ and ‘i’m her husband’ and i feel like chris would say the ‘this is my ex-girlfriend’ when you get married and yes i’m soft for him again (not like i have stopped)💕

A/N- I don't know, this one makes me SUPER SOFT AND I LOVE IT. Also going to add this as an entry to @jtargaryen18 30 Days of Chris Warning- Soft Smut

Vacation

Summary- 3.7k. Chris x Y/N. Chris flies you out to Red Sea Diving Resort Set for a couple weeks. 

You just boarded off your plane, the hot sun beating down on you was so much different then the hazy Boston mugginess you were used to. Behind you, your luggage flowed behind you, and you reached up to the top of your head to drop your sunglass, scanning among the crowd for that one familiar face, the one who insisted on you coming to visit cause he missed you that damn much and it had been weeks. Were you going to say no? Absolutely not, you missed him just as much.

There, there he was, his hand raised over his head, and waving back and forth to get your attention. He was weaving among the people and you ditched your luggage momentarily, sprinting to jump tackle him. Your legs firmly settled around his waist, arms around his neck and you pressed your face in against his neck, nuzzling that all to familiar spot you claimed as yours since day one. His hands had been held open wide to receive you, were now tight enough wrapping around you that it made you squeak and kiss nibbling the shell of his ear. “God damn Chris I missed you so damn much!” You pull back to look at him, and lean your forehead against his. He goes cross-eyed looking at you.

“I promise I have felt the same exact fucking way” His hand moved to the back of your head, and he slants his face to kiss you deeply, your tongues tangling, and your pleasantly surprised that his taste, it had a slightly saltier wild taste to it, it hit you right in your core, making you flex slightly and dampen. Oh my... Groaning into him, when he broke your kiss, your lick your lips and his eyes darken with a slight smirk playing the corner of his mouth. “Missed me a lot I can tell.” He let you slide to a stand, but kept you close as the two of you go to retrieve your ditched luggage before it was stolen.

Chris’s arm hung possessively low on your waist, feeling his hand slipping under your shirt to touch your bare skin, his thumb feathering back and forth across the curve. Once you reached the bags, he was quick to grab the handle. You opted to shoulder your overnight bag, and Chris maneuvered you two through the rush of people all looking for loved ones, catch a plane, a small group of you heading to leave.

“How was the flight?” He asked, while digging in his khaki pants for keys to a vehicle, directing you two towards a jeep.”It was good, long but I had a great seatmate. They were visiting their son who was studying in the states.” You continue on while Chris pops open the back seat, he lowered the handle of your luggage, and slipped it into the back seat, you handed over your other bag as well to add to it. Closing the door, Chris caught you by surprise, backing you against the door of the jeep, your eyes cast up about to ask why when one hand braced to one side by your head, and his other hand went to caress your cheek, grasping slightly under your jawline.

“Ahhh baby, I missed this.” His eyes shining a different shade of blue, bright crystal orbs raking over your face, the pad of his thumb made its way to your bottom lip, tracing the seam. Okay, you missed this to you thought a bit breathless while you studied his expression. The hunger brimmed in his eyes and a flop of his hair fell forward when he encased your lips against his, his tongue tracing till your opened, sighing into the kiss. It all rushed to your head to make you fuzzy, unaware of anything but the man sliding his hand into your hair at the back of your head, tilting just enough.... exactly right to inhale any air from your body, and that rush buzzed through your system to lighten a fire in your belly. Ahhh baby, I missed this was right.

Chris was the one to pull away first, taking a deep and giving a bit of a grin. “Sorry darling, its been a long while, I might have gotten caught up in that.” You blink at him till it registered what he said, and tipped toed up to give him just a nip, lifting up your sunglasses off your face. “Handsome, you do that any time you are so inclined” Rubbing your hands against his chest, and he pulled you in close, rubbing his beard against your neck to make you squeal, which of course you did. It tickled. “Come on, its a bit of a drive to the hotel, and I want to get you there to enjoy it, baby. You're going to love it.”

The next half hour, you filled him in with everything going on in Boston that you didn't really talk about on the phone during your nightly calls. They were reserved for more important discussions. But now, the floodgates open, and you animated told him all about how Dodger trudged his lion all the way to grandmas when you went to drop him off, your boss getting all jealous about you going to South Africa for a few weeks, the fact they got a new coffee flavor at the local coffee shop, how the neighbor STILL had there singing Christmas lights up. Really just anything. During this, Chris reached over and took your hand, fingers weaved together and held against his thigh, once in a while he would lift it to nip on a knuckle and kiss the center, other moments he would tip his head back and laugh deeply in that way that would shake his whole body. A true genuine laugh.

You shift in your seat, as there is a rather annoying counsel between you two, so cuddling up was out of the question, but you could still look. In the weeks he's been here, it really suited him. His hair was longer, and no longer styled in the way Captain America had been, but free to flow naturally, framing his face with a slightly more rugged beard, all given to fit his latest role. Tinges of red highlighted in the sun matched the way his tan spread across his face, making his scattering of freckles across his nose really stand out. You had to admit, it was a look you really felt suited Chris.

“You feeling about this?” You reach over to brush back his hair a bit, it even felt different, the sun and ocean was good to his body, softer and sun-kissed.

Chris took a look at himself in the rearview before glancing at you “I like it, if I could just look like this for all my roles, I would. Its hell of a lot easier than having to trim it all up every few weeks. And makeup is a lot easier in the morning. They just add a bit of product in it, and let it do its own thing.” It was a well-known fact Chris would get bored in the makeup chair, and when he got bored, he got anxious and wound.

You dropped your hand to his beard, giving the gentlest of tugs, biting your lip. “Well Handsome, you know I've always been a fan of this.”

Chris barked a laugh, a bit smug as his hand went to the beard, rubbing his chin in that manner that made him look thoughtful. “Oh Im well aware Sweetness, and i plan on putting it to good use later.”

Oh my...

Your first glance at the ocean left you in a gasp, you immediately moved in your seat and buzzed down your window, a blast of hot airbrushed your hair back, and Chris reached over to turn off the ac, rolling down his own window, elbow hooking over the door as he speed up just a bit, bringing you closer to that insanely blue water. For once you felt something really did rival Chris’s excited blue eyes. It was just that damn blue.

Starting to slow down, his hand moving to hit the clicker, he turned onto a side road, bringing the jeep way back in speed as it bounced a bit on the rougher road, careful at the spots that sand pooled and spread. “Were staying right on set, the hotel had a spot all set up for us. Plenty of bungalows, and we got a nice one on the end. A bit away from the others.” There were some perks to being one of the headliners of this project and he pointed out towards the rows of a frame looking cabins, upon some stilts, nothing more then feet away from the waves, that were lapping so gently on the shore, it reminded you of a lovers caress, of Chris’s.

The jeep came to a stop at the end of the line, and you jumped out, waiting for Chris to come around, with your bag and luggage in tow. When you tried to take one, he took your hand instead and led you up the stairs. “Welcome home Sweetness” He popped open the door and it was better then you could have hoped for. Open floor plan, there was a small basic kitchenette, a table and chairs, a door leading off to a bathroom, and a bed with a mosquito net enclosing around it. Chris brought your luggage over towards the bed, moving aside the netting to set it at the end for you to get to it. And then he beckoned you towards him. “Close your eyes, this is the best part.”

“Alright, they are closed... “ You cover them and he slides open two slides, leaving the pack of the bungalow open to the view. He eased you to take a few steps to the left, and wrapped his arms around you, nibbling your neck playfully. “Chris! do I have to keep my eyes closed?” you squealed when his beard and lips tickled you, making you press back against his chest. Humming against your sweet spot between your neck and shoulder, he finally relented. “Okay, open them up Babygirl.”

You immediately dropped your hands to cover his over your stomach, weaving your fingers with his while studying what he wanted you to see. Pristine beach stretched just ahead of you, water lapping the shoreline no more then ten feet of that away. The deck was raised up off the beach, with stairs leading down. Your jaw dropped, and Chris laughed behind you at your reaction. Twisting to look over your shoulder at him, he kissed your forehead. “Wanna go play in the waves Sweetness?”

“Yes! I packed for plenty of beach days. All this, getting a proper tan.” Pulling you away from the view, he set to find his trunks, and you found your white bikini, stripping quickly out of your clothes, any jet lag completely forgotten. Chris came up behind you while you were trying the strings of the bikini, going to take the strings himself and tie them for you, groaning softly. “Fuck, you are hot in this.” Grinning, you pull away and go to tiptoes to twirl for him to see all of it, landing back on the balls of your feet.

“You think so? I had to have it rushed ordered last week when you called to tell me you were flying me out.”

Chris approached you again, his oversized hands smoothing the bare skin along your sides, looking you up and down for a moment, and nodding. “fuck baby, we might not even need to go down to the beach, and just have ourselves some fun right here.” He drew you into a kiss, nips on the lips and a slip of the tongue, your body sank into him, with your hands brushing over his chest, the short soft hairs tickling your palms, and even his body felt better from being here. Lean muscles tightened where your hands roved, flowing over his ribs and flattened against his back that spoke of Power. It was tempting, and you were about to relent.

Then he stepped back and took your hand, leading you outside, you have him a huff and incredulous look as he led you down the stairs. “Don't worry, later. I will take you apart, trust me.” Hitting the hot sand, you two jogged towards the water to not burn the bottoms of your feet. “Not if I don't get to you first...” Your tone lowered playfully as you splashed into the waves “... Captain.”

Chris snapped his hand against your white bikini covered ass just as you were about to dive in, laughing as you arched your body and plunged in, he continued wading as you slipped out further away into the waves. “Fucking tease....” He said with affection and followed after you, quick to slide up alongside you and catch you. You two swim for a while, and then as the evening started to roll around, go to shower off the salt and sand, making your way to dinner. Dinner was enjoyable, your eyes bigger than your mouth, and you had to try a bit of everything. Laughing at each other as some funny doubtful faces were made, quickly changing to surprise and enticing each other to take a bite with 'You just have to try it' passed between each other. To finish off, a bit of fresh fruit, and a walk on the beach once you two got back to the bungalow.

The beach was mostly abandoned, dark but the white sand and the expanse of stars overhead. You dug your toes in the sand, having ditched your dandles on the back deck when Chris suggested a late-night walk. “Thank you, Chris.” You smile up at him, seeing his face in shadows, and his hands rubbed against your hips, kissing your forehead as you pulled in close. “For what Babygirl?”

“For flying me out, you were right, this place is beautiful.”

“Tomorrow after I get done shooting our scene, we will drive around a bit so you can see everything.”

When you two stumbled back, tugging off clothing between your giggles and shared kisses, you fall against the mosquito net, the two of you forgetting it was there and end up ripping it down, getting tangled together, you're still laughing as Chris is cursing, trying to get it off from around your naked bodies. Finally once you two got untangled, the destroyed mosquito net shoved off to the side, Chris moved over you, kissing up your body with lavishing wet kisses, the salty ocean breeze blowing in where the doors to the beach had been left wide opened, you shivered with delight at the sensation.  

“Fuck. I. Missed. You.” He emphasized every word making his way up your body, nips and hands plumping your breasts, dragging his tongue over your nipples before kissing on them, then up your collarbone and to you neck. You couldn't help but roll underneath him, wrapping your legs around his lean hips and pushing fingers through that long softer hair of his and to his bunched shoulders, nuzzling in against his neck while sucking on his earlobe, giving a playful nibble on the lobe. “I couldn't tell Chris.” you giggled, which quickly turned into a lust-filled moan when he positioned himself and filled you, making you clutch to him, lightly biting his shoulder.

Once you relaxed back underneath him, Chris started to roll himself into you, grinding your hips together. “Right there...” You moaned within a few moments, tipping your head up to share a whining kiss, now it was Chris's turn to chuckle, cupping your face as he sped up, making your jaw drop slightly and eyes fluttering back. “Feel good baby?” He grunted, and all you could do was nod with urgency, rocking your hips back to meet him. When he snapped that tightly wound coil, a drop to of his hand rubbing against your nub, making you tighten, flutter around him, snapping high and breaking, you swore you saw the stars, just like the ones that danced the heavens above the ocean. He rode you through it, rolling his hips deeper, erratic till a shedder ripped through him, painting you with his cum. Kisses fell to your shoulder as his weight covered you, deep breaths shared and you didn't want him to move.

Your hands rubbed against his back that slowly started to ease under your hands, this was just as important to him as it was to you to be eased down, and your hands soon brought him into focus, arching up and kissing your forehead tenderly while easing out. You looked so content laying there, looking up at him that he couldn't help but pause and admire the moment, you soon broke the silence, weaving your hands together with his and letting your hands fall on either side of your head. “Love you.”

Smiling as he dropped kisses back to swollen lips and muttering against them. “Love you too.” and your bodies, urged you to continue, more orgasms and shared love to be had till in exhaustion, you two collapsed, the sweet breeze licking across your heated bodies while drifting off to sleep. Early morning, Chris got up early to shower, here he rose before the sun. Prepping coffee and a fruit salad in the fridge, he had it all set up on the table out on the deck, and when you started to stir, shorts and a tank top tugged on, you walked out to find him with bare feet up on the railing, coffee in hand, watching the sun come up on the ocean horizon, the landscape dotted with seagulls diving near the water looking for anything worthwhile. “Morning Handsome.”

Your hands drift through his hair, you really enjoyed it, and hoped he planned on keeping it for a while. His arm looped around your hip and tugged you into his lap, offering you his coffee, which you took a swallow gratefully before setting it down beside the bowl of fruit. Plucking a couple chunks of mango from it, you popped one in your mouth, and offered him one, which when he opened his mouth, you slipped it in. The fruit was sweet and smooth, juicy as you chewed, you selected another piece and nibbled on it while Chris rubbed your waist, letting his chin rub against your shoulder. “Mmhh, how are you this morning?”

Already your skin was taking on the sunkissed look that he appreciated, your face bright and exuberant as you smiled at him and offered him more fruit, you two sharing in the manner while you assured him that any soreness was fine and you wouldn't change anything about it. Chris seemed to go quiet a bit, and he tipped your chin to look at him. “Really, everything is just perfect?” Your own eyes widened and nod. “Absolutely handsome, there's no place I would rather be then with you. A look crossed his face. One of excitement and happiness. A grin breaking out as he had one arm latched around your hip, lifting his side enough to reach in his pocket. “I'm so relieved to hear you say that, cause it feels perfect too.”

Your brows come together and when he pulls his hand out, latched in between his fingers is a ring, a silver band with a diamonds. You're holding your breath, this was so unexpected that your speechless staring at it, then at him. “Will you baby, marry me? I've had this just waiting for the right moment to ask. I love you so fucking much and I always want you to be my girl, the one I fly to set, and the one I come home to.” His blue eyes are shining with love and a bit of nerves, not that you would say no, but more that he had made this just perfect for you.

“Christopher of course I will!” tears spring from your eyes in your joy and you grasp his face, kissing him deeply, sure to pour in that entire answer. So nowhere would he doubt that you were his, have been since you two first started dating. He found your left hand on his face, and finishing the kiss, the slipped the ring on your hand, sure that it was set just right. You held your hand up against the light baby blue sky and for you, that diamond was brighter than the sun. A symbol of your love.

Afterward, you walked him to set, hand in hand. Chris is extra playful today, pulling you in his hold, whispering how sexy you were and how tempting you were. Maybe tonight you guys would get frisky on the beach. You firmly reminded him of sand getting in all the worst places. “I don't care, we can shower later.” He reminds you, making you smack his chest to hush him, hiding your face against his shoulder before facing the camera crew, they waved the two of you over. “Hey Chris, you must be Y/N? He's done nothing more than talk about you.”

“Only good I hope.” You counter and they laugh with a nod.

“Hey guys be nice to my Ex-Girlfriend.” Chris huffs, brushing a hand through his hair, and the crew goes silent for five seconds in confusion, you nudge him with your shoulder. “Chris you pain.” He grinning and holds up your left hand to see your ring. “I'm actually his fiance.”

Looks of relief passed, and after congratulations were given, Chris laughing and you accepting the compliments on the ring, you two went towards the tent he needed to go to get ready for shooting, playing with your ring. “Hey don't do that to Scott Handsome, he will never forgive you.” He shook his head, and dug out his phone, flipping open the texts. “You kidding me? The whole family has been asking me constantly if I asked yet.”

Taking the phone, you scrolled through the messages, snorting. “How long have you been waiting to ask Chris.”

“Oh trust me, long enough. I've always known you were the one Y/N.”