This is my helperdog, Murphy. He’s the boxer/beagle and possibly ridgeback that I rescured like years ago after his own threw him and others out of a box on the freeway.
He’s almost 8 now and he goes everywhere with me including work. He’s a total brat who loves food, especially raw meat and bones, and attention.
He got indignant in the last picture because I started whistling at him.
CATCALLED THE DOG AND WHISTLED, HE SAID NO.
So the broccoli and zucchini plants died finally, gotta start clearing them out. Tomato and pepper are still growing and the green beans are also starting to die.
:/ gonna have to root everything this week because we need to break up the soil and start getting ready for the fall/winter stuff.
You know how I can tell when people are dismissive of others’ problems?
They’re usually the first one to drag out the word “drama”.
It’s a dismissive and contemptuous word used to belittle the one who has the problem, whether it’s with another person or a situation in…
Jere thought it’d be fun to tell me to ask him shit on tumblr cause he’s bored. vantilles I’m working on like 45 questions for you.
I am not concerned with a scumbag’s quality of life.
I am not concerned with their pissbaby feelings because they got called out for being scumsucking pieces of filth.
be they rampant sexual abuser or underage honey-trap.
I don’t care if they’re upset for being called out.
Let me tell you a thing:
Sexual Predators do not deserve to be ‘left alone’. They deserve to be called out. They deserve worse than that, but I’ll stick to the calling out for the purpose of this ranting.
Their acts of abuse and predation are not just ‘silly mistakes’ that the…
The tone of his voice was warm as the room they shared now, and the floating bulbs of silver mage-light cast shadows on both of them- hovering like stars near the great concave ceiling. Half dressed and hair down Valkrian sat with his back leaning on the gathering of pillows near the wall. His bare chat was tense and he wrinkled his nose when the cool cloth padded against the tender skin just beneath his pectoral, red and angry the wound marred his tawny skin, Luce looking up at him with a sobered expression and pressing the cloth more delicately. “Someone has to take care of you.” she spoke quietly, pursing her lips and applying mild pressure before Valkrian sighed and reached a hand out to stroke her hair. “I can take care care of myself.” but his hand lingered when he spoke and his voice almost seemed more accepting then bitter, fingers working through the dark curls and feeling out the smooth and utterly silky texture.
Sandalwood and a faint chypre painted the air, both of them looking at one another and both with concern in their expression. “Trolls sometimes poison their weapons, you could be affected and you’d never know. Suddenly you’re gone and what is left of your memory Lord Goldwing? I don’t doubt that you have everything together and I don’t dare deny that you can’t handle yourself I simply wish to be of use as I can.” forward and blunt, her lashes fluttering and those pale lips closed as she turned her head away and pulled the cloth back. He made no protest and relaxed instead, arms folded behind his head and eyes closed as he mired in the chilling rush of something of a poultice was placed on the injury. It stung and he suppressed the urge to hiss but his eye roamed when he opened it and noted the diligence in how she wrapped the cloth bandages.
"Dawnmender Moonsorrow, I believe you’re concerned for me." he teased, Luce pinning her ears back and blushing heavily suddenly. The scarlet giving a flare to her cheeks and her eyes closing as she looking away with bottom lip held between her teeth. A web of inky black curls swept over and covered her face and Valkrian shook his head as she continued her work looking away from him. The bandages tightly wrapped and airily scented like antiseptic- something either medical or floral… perhaps both. "I am concerned for everyone in the Archon’s service and everyone who serves Quel’thalas, Lord Goldwing." her blush still washed over her face and Luce’s eyes meeting his as she turned her head. Haughty and grinning mischievously she shifted her weight where she sat, sitting straight up with hands tucked into her lap and the pale pink and white robes pooling around her.
Her fingers tightened around the cloth clutched so tightly between them already, lacquered nails strained on the fabric as she felt him shift beside her and lean more so to his side- looking at her with a sobered expression. “What do you want in life?” he question stirred something of a confused and inquisitive stare, provoked a gasp and her face to blank as she looked at his eye and the very edges of his every contour. “To serve Quel’thalas to my best, be that as a Councillor of the Magistrate or a soldier. Be whatever the requirement I will attend my duties.” the quip stern and Valkrian frowning as she sat statuesque and cold. “That’s not it, you’re too far ambitious and driven a woman. I can see it in how you move and talk- how you look at everyone and the expressions you make. I may be missing an eye but I’m not blind.” and she felt defeated by the stern remark.
Her mouth hanging agape and the plump lips quivering in their corners as she nodded and he found himself drawn to the shattering in his posture and poise. As if he’d cracked part of the mirror that she sought to show everyone, and he was satisfied by this innocence she held suddenly as she looked at him and swallowed the lump he’d forced into her throat. “You strive for a throne.” he added, her lips closed and the expression suddenly warm but not inviting. Her ears wilting and legs pulled to the side of her hips on the edge of the bed. There was a serpentine nature to how she twisted and adjusted herself, looking down at him and leaning forward suddenly.
There was no shock to how warm she was when her cheek brushed against his, when her lips touched the side of his face and she kissed him tenderly. “To be Queen would be interesting but I don’t just want a throne and to a Queen… I want the throne- I want to be the Queen. I want Quel’thalas to stand whole and strong and I want this nation to stand by itself, tested and tempered by any threat, and victorious above all.” her breathy voice was in his ear, she’d not pulled back after all and instead continued speaking after a pause. “I want to be that Queen, the one who made Quel’thalas rise and brought back the glory of the Elven empire… who saw our foes crushed and brought under heel and our allies shown the full edge of our might. I want to serve my nation and make her whole- and in my wake even the Old Gods and the Burning Legion will fear us.”
Valkrian’s hand rose to her cheek and swept down over her neck, her eyes directed to his and her face held as she looked deeply and truly herself… calm. Unbeknownst to her those hands of hers had curled on his shoulders and her body had leaned against him. She turned in tandem with him, her back pressed against the cloth and pillow and his hair falling over his shoulders to curtain them. Shock and some curiosity filled her expression as he rested his face in the supple curve of her neck and shoulder, wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly- her own arms sliding around his neck and the low rumble in his throat made her shudder when he spoke. “Stay here tonight.” simplistic and amusing she kept looking up at him and the seriousness in his face. “Of course.” both smiled and Valkrian sank back to his side, Luce’s arms entwined around his neck and his own clutching her waist.
There were no moans nor shared physical sentiments, only the doleful wisps of slumber and the sated desire for comfort.
1. Luce can skin and field dress any animal she hunts.
2. Her home is in the reaches of the Ghostlands but due to the secluded nature she often utilizes personal portal and ‘pocket dimensions’ to make herself more comfortable. These pocket dimensions often contain things like an engineering workshop or act as the living remnant of memory of the palace of Azshara pre-sundering.
3. If offered Luce will never turn down a drink or a bite to eat but to date she’s only ever asked one person to join her for dinner. IN THE SPAN OF 5, 868 YEARS- ONE PERSON. That person accepted and they had a lovely evening, she believes him to be the perfect gentlemen and is pleased with his conduct.
There isn’t really a ‘big turn on’ for her, she likes a lot of qualities and finds a handful of them attractive in a potential partner, be it long term or just a night. The grim reality is Luce likes men who are soldiers or sailors typically, both is fine, because she likes the fact that they understand duty and obligation and that this may very well simply be a temporary coupling or just a friendship that had physical grounds to help satisfy both parties.
Her usual choice is: well read, well mannered, confident, bold, and a good sport about being teased.