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saint--claire · 3 months

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When I was a little child, there was a particular library book I checked out week after week, endlessly renewing it as much as I was able. The book, How to Raise and Keep a Dragon by John Topsell was a quasi-nonfiction guide to, as you guessed, rearing different species of dragons. I loved it. Tiny-me had plans.

As an adult, I tried to buy it a few times. No dice. The book was so old that no mainstream bookseller stocked it. Even when I tried niche websites recommended by various booksellers and librarians, I still couldn't find it. It was sadly lost to time, apparently not popular enough to make it into the archives.

But.

My best friend had a copy of that book. We're going to call her G, for several reasons not relevant at the moment. I was discussing my search with G one day, for some reason I can't remember now. She got a funny look on her face, asked me a few questions about the cover, listened to me do a very poor job of explaining with my hands how the hardcover copy had included a real gemstone in the dragon's forehead, and then went off to fish it out of her bookcase.

I was Gobsmacked.

I should not have been, given that the history of shared childhood books between us both would have made a circle with ragged edges, more so than a venn diagram, but I digress. The book came home to live in my house for a few months, and I was delighted by the chance to read it again.

Do people remember those type of books? Dragonology, Egyptology, The Stone Age - a way of introducing children to non fiction. They very earnestly spoke about the responsibilities needed to raise dragons, the practicalities involved. There was a record of registration you could fill out, if you had carefully considered the information to your self and felt you were responsible enough to to go through with adopting a dragon.

I vaguely remember filling out some of the riddle and puzzle questions in the Dragonology books. I would never have written in John Topsell's book, it was a library book.

But.

When I re-read G's copy at home, smiling over the familiar artwork, I was surprised to turn the page and find the painstaking, somewhat-wonky handwriting staring back at at me. Baby G, with her name spelled out in freshly-joined but still-not-quite-got-the-hang-of-this-yet cursive lettering. Baby G had filled the registration out in her best handwriting, in glittery green gel pen to denote the importance of the document. This was compared to the earlier, less important checklists done in plain black ink.

I read the registration certificate. Smiled. Smiled some more at the names listed for G's dragon, her dam, and her sire - Eragon was also a great book. Go off, Christopher Paolini.

Breed; standard Western Dragon. The box 'miniture' was ticked, to show that G's dragon was of the minature specic variety, rather than a full size dragon. This was, as she would later explain to me, chosen on the basis that baby-G felt it was the more financially responsible choice. Also so she could keep her dragon in her house with her, but we're not there yet.

I looked at that certificate. Looked at it again. Looked at the calendar, and then looked at the sewing machine I had just been given for Christmas.

G celebrates her birthday in January.

The template came first. I studied the different images of the standard western dragon through the book, picked my favourite, and re-drew it to a significantly larger scale.

Inking the design to the fabric, four times over probably took the longest.

I very subtly asked G the next time she was over (after hurling all dragon-related materials in a panic into the depths of my wardrobe) what type of colour dragon she would have, should it come up. As G later said, that type of question from me truly did not register as anything other than a question asked from theoretical interest. I transitioned the topic as discreetly as I could after she answered, and delightfully, my sneakiness went in one ear, out the other, and she forgot I had ever asked until several weeks later.

I enjoyed painting them.

Don't ask me how many mistakes I made through this process. So many. I do already know how to sew, but it's been a long time. I'd been meaning to get back into it for a while.

Given that various aunts and grandmothers and my mother had a knack for calling when I was up to my elbows in either paint or pins, it became a family affair. Each of them peered at the project through face time and offered their advice.

Some of the advice I took, some I didn't. No regrets about sewing it in pink thread. Considerable regrets about accidentally slicing one of the feet in half and having to fix that.

In the end though, she was finished.

I carefully pinned on her name tag, with the name baby-G had chosen with a little blue ribbon. A collar was unacceptable, this is a dragon, people, come on. Dragon's don't wear collars.

I put the book in the box, open to the registration certificate, and put the dragon on top. Wrapped the whole thing up with a bow and then refused to touch it before I sent myself mad trying to fix details that didn't really need to be fixed.

A bit late for her birthday, sure, but there we are. We'd gone for a trip off to nowhere for a weekend, to go try wine made out of blueberries and hike up a waterfall. (And climb on it. And swim in it. It was a very good waterfall).

I gave her the box, informed her she wasn't allowed to keep the box, just the contents (it was the only thing I had that was big enough for me to keep all of my A3 portfolios in, it had only been temporarily-repurposed as dragon housing), and then left the next bit up to the gods.

A surprise, sitting un-awaited for some 15 years in amber, to catch up to baby G and adult G together.

Happy Birthday, baby and adult G.

#StClaire speaks #How to Raise & Keep A Dragon #John Topsell #Joe Nigg #the thing about problems hammers and nails #except in this case it was childhood wishes and sewing machines #and as someone said #you were relearning to sew and you started with THAT?#well no #I started with a scrub hat #which kept the hair out of my face while I painted this #and then also that apron my aunt gave me the pieces to years ago that I refused point blank to do by hand #but yeah #101 mistakes later #and one re-attached foot #pretty happy with her #dragons

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shysimblr · 6 years

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Thalia brought the suspect in as he continued resisting her, “Get off me you stupid bitch” he growled as he tried to yank his arm away. “Shut up,” She snarled just as Detective Matthews came around the corner.

“Rodriguez... back again?” he said giving him a mocking smile

“You know him?” Thalia asked slightly confused

“Yeah he’s kinda a regular... but he’s been in the wind and we’ve been trying to find him but lucky for us, he made it easy for us... Good job StClaire.” He said sounding impressed

“Thanks, sir.” She said as she walked Rodriguez into the interrogation room.

Thalia left Rodriguez in the interrogation room with Matthews and went into the other room to watch, she didn’t have much experience with interrogations and she wanted to observe. She entered the room and Froze as she saw Gianni’s watching through the one-way mirror, she hovered at the door and considered going back through the door she came, she was about to leave when she heard him speak “Are you gonna hover at the door or are you gonna come in StClaire...” he said his tone difficult to read.

Thalia moved in and let the door close behind her, “How’d you know it was me?” she asked, “You didn’t even turn around.”

“Just did.” he shrugged trying to act casual when he knew it was because he was aware of her whenever she was close, he couldn’t help it. Thalia moved so she was standing in front of the mirror “Good Job today StClaire..” he said sounding detached.

Thalia didn’t know what pissed her off more, his tone or the fact that he kept calling her StClaire as if he didn’t know who she was, she’d thought after the brief moment they had shared during her certification he’d be a little less cold but as the weeks had gone on he’d gotten colder.

#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 story #stc3.3 #stclaire #thalia #gianni

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honeydewhazard · 6 years

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Your head on a plate.

Word count: 790

Warnings: mentions of someone being drugged, Nick StClaire

—————————————————————

On a typical day, your life was fairly decent, but every so often something dark from your past would creep up on you. Your day started as usual, in your boyfriends arms. Things were going alright until Veronica Lodge’s name flashed on your phone.

V: Guess who’s in town?

Y/N: Oh god....

V: Nick StClaire -.-

It’s not like you had some creepy terrible past but one part of your life that you’d gladly forget if you could, involved a seemingly innocent boy. Nick StClaire used to be a good person, and when he arrived to Riverdale three years ago you didn’t think any different.

That night Veronica introduced you to Nick, he had such a charming smile and a glass of whiskey in his hand. A few times that night, Nick had offered you a drink; but your mother taught you to never let someone make you a drink. You continually politely declined the boy and it seemed to just grind his gears. When you later found out that he drugged Cheryl it sent sickening chills down your spine. What would have happened had you accepted the drink? It made you sick just thinking about that night.

Your boyfriend, Sweet Pea could tell you were feeling uncomfortable as he scooped you up in his arms and pulled you into his chest.

“What’s wrong Princess?” He questioned.

“It’s Nick. He’s back in town.” You shivered.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll protect you. All the serpents will.” Sweet Pea reassured you.

You cuddled with your boyfriend for a few more minutes before hopping in the shower and getting ready for the day.

“What’s that scumbag even in town for?” Sweet Pea yelled through the bathroom door.

“God if I know. His parents are probably making another investment with Hiram.” You said stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel.

You wrapped a towel around your hair and got changed into some casual clothes. Walking out of the bathroom you watched Sweet Pea put his leather jacket on and lace up his boots.

“Where are you off to?” You asked.

“White Wrym, Toni needs help cleaning up from the party last night.” Sweet Pea kissed you on the cheek and left the trailer.

You heard your boyfriend ride away on his motorcycle as you started putting on some makeup. Once you were done you headed out and walked to Pop’s Diner.

You heard the familiar jingle of the bell as you pushed open the door and took a quick look around. Sitting in the far left was Betty and Veronica. You walked over and sat next to Betty who was drinking a vanilla milkshake.

“I can’t believe he would even think of coming back. Especially after Archie payed him that visit.” Betty sighed.

“You’d think a broken nose would send a good enough message.” Veronica spoke.

“It’s messed up.” You added.

As if it were some twisted fate, Nick StClaire waltzed through Pop’s door.

“Speak of the devil.” Veronica hissed.

Suddenly everyone was very quiet. Almost all of Riverdale knew about what had happened to Cheryl and everyone despised him. That being said, everyone was slightly afraid of the StClaire family and all the money and power they have.

Nick slowly walked over to your booth and sat down next to Veronica.

“Get away from me you sewer rat.” Veronica raised her voice.

“Thank your little ginger for me V. My nose looks way better now than it ever has.” Nick snarled.

“You’re a terrible person. What are you even doing here?” Betty questioned.

“It’s a diner. I’m here for a damn burger.” Nick rolled his eyes.

“She means Riverdale. What are you doing in Riverdale?” You stared at him.

“What’s it to you, sweetheart?” Nick smirked.

“Call me sweetheart one more time.” You clenched your jaw.

Nick reached across the table to place his hand on yours when a very angry Sweet Pea crashed through the front door.

“Get your filthy hands off my princess!” Sweet Pea yelled.

StClaire quickly removed his hand and got up from the booth.

“Like I’d want to touch that.” Nick said.

“What was that?” Sweet Pea grabbed Nick by the collar of his shirt.

“Get your snake hands off of me. I’ll have you arrested. You don’t want to mess with me, serpent.” Nick struggled.

“Listen to me you privileged twat, if you step foot in Riverdale again, me and my boys will have your head on a plate. Got it?” Sweet Pea threatened.

Nick took a deep breath before practically running out of Pop’s Diner. Sweet Pea slid into the seat next to you and wrapped an arm firmly around you.

“You alright Angel?” He softly asked.

“I’m fine Sweets. Thank you.” You smiled.

#sweet pea #sweet pea headcanon #riverdale #riverdale serpents #south side serpents #jordan connor #southside #southside serpent smut #sweet pea imagine #nick stclaire #imagine #sweet pea smut #short imagine #veronica lodge #betty cooper #cheryl blossom #cheryl bombshell

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shsummertimefest-blog · 7 years

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All of Me

Enjoy, @that-bookish-nephilim!

Hey Babe!! I really hope you enjoy!❤️

~*~

Paris is shrouded with the brisk air of early autumn.

Atop the splendid terrace of Magnus’s opulent villa, Alec recollects the way Magnus had regaled to him the utter vitality that Paris exudes from each recess of it’s astonishing grounds. From the revered clothing worn by each of it’s civilians, to the pungent intermingling of freshly baked bread, and spritzed on perfumes that dance in the open air. Aromas that have no business combining into each other, but strangely enough, only act to accentuate the cities outlandish allure. Magnus sounded most enthralled when speaking of the castles that skirt around it’s edges—screaming of the extravagance of livelihood.

Though standing there, alone and longing for Magnus to return, Alec finds none of the charm or luster of Paris that his boyfriend appears to be so delighted by. So, with a release of breath, the Nephilim soldier stumbles back into the villa, cursing the subjugate of the Parisian vampire clan, whom had insisted upon Magnus’s company to regard his master…Which in turn held back Alec and Magnus’s evening plans to roam the vibrant city on another one of their dates around the world that Magnus was ever so insistent on conducting. (“You deserve so much more than what you’ve allowed yourself Alexander, I want to show you that.”)

The memory of Magnus saying that, so Ernest and true, it still makes it so a chill runs through Alec’s whole being, and he yearns for Magnus all over again—For his sparkling laughter, his enrapturing charisma, his lips that taste like brightness and brilliance and everything that makes the maverick so—so, him.

Collapsing onto the flamboyant duvet of the master bedroom, Alec finds himself contemplating how many times Magnus has adventured around the world. How many countries he has visited, then revisited, and revisited again. How many indiscriminate faces of the 17000 ever made enough of a lasting impact to join him on one of those adventures. How much it means that Magnus found it apt to take Alec to all his favorite spots in the midst of the brewing war, and the ominous battles of bloodshed that threaten to ravage the world as they know it.

With a sickening twist of the gut, Alec finds himself thankful that if these are there last days here on this earth as they know it—he’s thankful he’s spending it with who he thinks is the love of his life—his one and only. The only person who has ever made it so his heart flutters in his chest and his stance falter when caught off guard by his striking beauty.

Rising up from his position, Alec examine the room in it’s entirety. The strong purple of the sheets, to the trinkets the spatter against the walls and shelves, feeling far too giddy when he spots the head of the arrow Alec had gifted him with, dangling off one of the belts poking out of Magnus’s suitcase.

Alec remembers the day he had offered to teach Magnus how to handle a bow and arrow—the exact precision of the act. He remembers being pressed up against him. Remembers the sent of sandalwood and sunlight and something quintessentially Magnus tickling his nostrils, and the spark he felt running through his fingers when their hands brushed over the weapon, and being absolutely positive in that moment and everyone that followed that he’d do everything in his power to never see any weapon, or person, hurt Magnus. Sure that he’d readily hurt himself over anything touching Magnus in any sort of threatening posture.

Alec thinks it was that moment he had realized that he’s been in love with Magnus, since he could ever put it into words. Since probably the first interaction they had. There was an immediate kinship their, something that made Alec always come back to him—for whatever problem presented itself. (Hell he asked him to defend the life of his baby sister for fucks sake—he’d only trust his siblings well beings in his own hands, or evidently Magnus’s. And Yiyks, that’s gotta mean something big.)

Alec sometimes thinks that he loves Magnus so god damn much that his heart is cracking open—trying to make room for the intensity of it. And yet again, he’s blown away that Magnus has experienced lifetimes worth of frivolous acts and ardent romances of which Alec could not begin to wrap his mind around. But somehow, actually appears to be as enraptured by Alec, as he by the illustrious warlock. Like Maybe Magnus loves him just as much.

And that’s something so awing and stupendous on it’s own, that Alec gets flustered all over again.

With a shake of the head to try and calm his nerves, Alec moves to finish up the unpacking for their weekend getaway—they were half way complete before being so rudely interrupted. So he opens up the second, and final suitcase filled to the brim with apparel which can only be described as belonging to the Magnificent Magnus Bane, (all sorts of vibrant colors, and distinctive materials,) and Alec’s gaze immediately focuses on the glimmering, compact pouch that he knows carries the day makeup that Magnus likes toying around with.

The pouch glimmers under the soft lights of the room, and Alec feels a sudden urge to just pick it up.

He unzips the case and peaks inside, scanning over all the different colored powders, and variously shaped brushes and tubes that he can even begin to understand their purpose, and suddenly thinks it’s far too much.

He’d always found himself enthralled by the way Magnus sashays into a room, demanding all the attention being focussed upon him with nothing more than his incandescent smiles, and the enrapturing , staccato timber of which he spoke. He had an aura about him that commanded respect for such an old force of power and brilliance, but also a softness that he exposed to Alec—an understanding that made Alec fall so hard in love with him. Made Alec see all the layers beneath the pretty outer shell, or the spiteful warnings by his parents against anyone of the downworld.

Magnus is a beautiful force all his own, proving how wrong, and downright discriminatory the way he had been brought up actually was. Magnus makes Alec want to b better, makes him want to understand every facet of a situation before acting on it. Magnus makes Alec a better leader, and he’s so thankful for that.

Returning his attention to the makeup pouch, Alec thinks of all the other ways he was oppressed—how he was never allowed to explore his sexuality, less it lead him off the beaten path his parents expected of him, of a Lightwood leader. Alec thinks of the way Magnus ever so artfully sweeps these paints across his stunning countenance, only accentuating his already beauteous features and enjoying himself while doing so.

Alec supposes that it is a testament to how far he has come in finding, and accepting his true self, that he even contemplates the experimentation with the instruments and liquids lying within the bag. No small portion of his journey being eased by Magnus Bane and all his brilliance.

And he’s yet again thankful for every part of him, from his beguiling laughter, to his soft understanding.

Alec loves him, so much so that he can feel it in his every breath.

Eventually deciding that if he had the courage to leap head first into all the trappings of love, and expose his true feelings before his family, and the clave, in what was meant to be his wedding—no matter how much of a farce that was—Well he can surely toy with the makeup, in ways he was never permitted in his adolescence, within the safe confines of his boyfriends home.

.-.

Rain pelts down, harsh and relentless, as Magnus scurries through the cobble stoned streets of Paris. The occasional blasphemous curse spewed towards StClaire, and his minions, with more venom than what should probably be warranted considering how the old drunkard just wanted to catch up with an old friend, spilling out every few feet as he feels the water soaking his newly acquired shoes.

In truth the surly attitude had to do a lot more with StClaire snatching away any valuable time he would be sharing with Alec, over the new shoes. Alec, who’s waiting for him on Magnus’ bed. Alec who’s kisses make parts of Magnus he had come to think of as dormant come alive and brighten ten fold. Alec who touches him so tenderly, and speaks to him with so much conviction in his words—clear hazel eyes looking into his brown ones with so much love and openness, and care. Alec who trusts Magnus implicitly and who Magnus trusts right back.

The customary fluttering of the chest whenever even thinking of the eldest Lightwood boy, yet takes Magnus aback in it’s profundity. How is it that this shadowhunter, a Lightwood for Lilith’s sake, has dictated nearly Magnus’s every thought, and enamored him so thoroughly.

From the endearing tendency of falling into the shadows, unwilling to allow his effulgence to flare in it’s full might, to the unwitting candor which permeates his words, and glimmer in his deep irises, , Alexander Lightwood is truly a shadowhunter whom has been cut with an entirely different mold. One with the truest heart Magnus has ever come to know in all his centuries, and a righteous sense of protection which he envelopes onto all he believes is deserving, A strong leader who tries to do the right thing, and actually admits his faults as quickly as he realizes them.

In truth, Magnus has found himself frightened by the intensity he had come to feel for Alexander in such a inconsequential amount of time, But then Alec is laughing with him about how big of a complex jumbo shrimp must have, and he’s resting his head into the crook of Magnus’s neck and shoulder, with Magnus wrapping his arms around him, bathing in the light of early morning and feeling it in his bones that he is it for Magnus.

That no matter what happens, or how much time passes, Alexander lightwood is his something permanent.

Convicted in that thought, and eager to finally reunite with Alec on what was suppose to be there weekend away from politics and stress, Magnus steps through the threshold of his home, embraced by the warmth radiating from the hearth, and wondering if the content feeling settling over him is something new, or only magnified because he knows that Alec is here, waiting for him.

Once straying to the grand bedroom of his humble abode, he finds himself very nearly tripping over empty space.

When Alexander swivels his position so that Magnus can take in the entirety of his striking features, Magnus feels his breath hitching.

His Alexander, his beautiful, darling Alexander, sits there, with the dark liquid of sparkling eyeliner, accenting the consuming hues of his hazel irises, and a colorless gloss cloaking his bow shaped lips. And from the sight of a brush in his hand, Magnus suspects he was in the midst of placing another pouter onto his cutting cheek bones.

“You’re back,” he greets with a breathy sort of chuckle, and flush toning the tops of his ears, an Magnus cannot help but find the sight of his abashed form positively adorable.

“Yes, but it appears that I’ve interrupted something,” he inquires with a craning of his manicured brows, and a glint akin to amusement glittering in his eyes.

“I’m sorry Mags,” Alec sets down the instrument in his hands, a lopsided grin curling onto his lips.

Magnus merely thrusts out a singular finger forward, so to hush Alexander’s unnecessary apologies. Though the more he drank in his beautiful boyfriend, Magnus found himself all the more rendered speechless.

“I got curious,” Alexander shrugs bashfully in means of explanation, resulting in a chuckle escaping Magnus’s lips.

“Well I must admit, your beauty seems to only be amplified,” Magnus informs him,, an enigmatic grin melting into his handsome face.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Alec’s nose wrinkles, and Magnus can spot the shadows of insecurities gleaming from his every move

A rush of frustration pounds through the centuries old warlock, and he desires nothing more than to make Alec understand that no matter the state, with make up, or without, or anything else, he is worth more than all the riches of the seven seas.

“Take it, and know that it is nothing but the truth my dear Alexander.” Magnus whispers gruffly.

As Magnus cups his boyfriend’s cheek, the world feels as if it has been suspended, and for that infinitesimal moment, with their faces inclined so closely together, it felt as if time had folded in on itself, and it was just the two of them for that slice of eternity.

Alec golds down, and Magnus hopes it’s any remaining diffidence.

“You’re back,” he breathes before standing up to properly greet him face to face.

“Yes,” Magnus rubs his hands appreciatively over Alec’s biceps, dimpling up at him. “I told StClaire that I’d really chat another time as I’ve come to explore the city with my beautiful boyfriend.”

“Is that right,” Alec scoffs incredulously before slanting his lips over Magnus’s, effectively swallowing any remarks he might have.

It’s slow, languid almost. Both just enjoy the feel and taste of the other, the intimacy of the act. The way they feel so intwined. And Magnus thinks that Alec must know—must know how he feels for him.

They move apart only slightly, Magnus can still feel the warm tendrils of Alec’s breath tickling over his lips. “I’ve missed you.”

“And I you Shadowhunter,” Magnus groans into his mouth, and presses him closer.

Stumbling backwards they collapse onto the bed, moving to frantic kissing and greedy hands slipping under shirts, and unzipping pants.

“You’re so beautiful,” Alec marvels, round eyes staring at Magnus stripping off his shirt, fluttering his finger tips over Magnus’s boxer briefs, in silent question. magnus just responds by thrusting his already rock hard boner into Alec’s hand.

“What can I say, you do something to me Nephilim,” Magnus snickers.

Alec’s tongue darts out, licking the edge of his mouth, his eyes darkening. But before he gets any ideas, Magnus toots at him, swatting his hand away, and instead putting them both over his head.

“Let me take care of you, okay?”

Alec stays silent, but eager if the way he bucks up his hips is any indication.

Magnus huffs out a chuckle before pressing their lips back against each other, hard and moving to push down Alec’s trousers—thumbing against the head of his dick, and the wet spot piercing against his white briefs.

“I, ah,” another moan. “I guess you have the same effect on me.”

Magnus gives him a lopsided grin before licking down his pecks—circling his tongue around his left nipple and biting down just hard enough to here Alec hissing out. continuing his path down Alec’s beautifully chiseled torso, and nosing against his yet, brief clad dick.

“Such a fucking tease,” Alec groans, thrusting his hips upwards greedily.

“So fucking impatient,” Magnus volleys right back before using a single finger to slowly peal away the fabric—ultimately just pulling it off all at once—The redness of Alec’s throbbing dick bouncing out.

Magnus licks around the head, before moving to the underside of Alec’s dick and pushing forward, more than a bit smug when catching the way Alec’s gripping his sheets for dear life, moaning out his name all the while.

Magnus cups his balls, and Alec cums just as quick.

Preening, Magnus moves to collapse next too a very spent looking Alec, his face gleaming with sweat, and chest moving up and down with heavy breaths.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Magnus would be lying if he didn’t say that a thrill shot right down his body and to his dick at the sound of that.

“”s okay Alexander,” he runs a hand through his ink black hair. “We have all the time in the world—We had a long trip, let’s just get some shut eye, m’kay.”

Alec looks a little put out, and Magnus can’t stop laughing at the puppy comparison’s.

“Tomorrow morning?”

Magnus sweeps away some of the smudged lipstick that stains Alec’s mouth.

“Sounds like a date.”

“A sex date,” Alec laughs and Magnus face palms.

~*~

Magnus wakes up to breakfast in bed and probably the best head of his life.

#that-bookish-nephilim #shgiftfest17 #fic #malec

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gradschoolfool1 · 4 years

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RT @stclairashley: I’m so sick of RACIST REPUBLICANS In their newest stunt, they got “Uncle Tom” trending on Twitter while black people were speaking at the DNC Truly disgusting, right? Wait *checks notes* That was Democrats during the RNC. Carry on.

I’m so sick of RACIST REPUBLICANS In their newest stunt, they got “Uncle Tom” trending on Twitter while black people were speaking at the DNC Truly disgusting, right? Wait *checks notes* That was Democrats during the RNC. Carry on.

— Ashley StClair 🇺🇸 (@stclairashley) August 25, 2020

via Twitter https://twitter.com/GradSchoolFool1 August 25, 2020 at 12:27PM

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thunderbird0204 · 4 years

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Riverdale season 4 episode 12

There is a whole fucking room of people ad they still only use those 2 stonewall peps. Man secret societies are terrifying. Like imagine being in highschool and having one of your teachers organize a fucking one on one battle for two of your classmates, like your picking literary topics.

Lol strongarmed family vacation.

DO NOT, I REPEAT DO NOT GET TONI INVOLVED WITH TICKLING.

I think I'm okay with this mother daughter crime fighting team up.

Archie is just collecting men, and I love it.

Oh I'm so ready to find out why buddy is killing his old war buddies. Haha teens and their phones.

I should get back to work.

Okay, this is the only plot thread I'm happy they are going back to. The mysterious death of Mr.Chipping.

I swear the whole class is watching this fucking fencing match, and also your telling me a rich school like this one dosent have a fencing hall?

I wonder why Veronica is having this random New York spree episode.

God damn, they brought that fucking assulty asshole back. I bet Hiram told him about it. (Saint Clair that was his name) fuck this guy.

I'm hope someone finds all the sextapes and then he can be arrested for child porn hopefully.

Lol Veronica had the Jo-Bros at her quinceanera. What is with this full name bullshit.

Welp there goes another father figure for Archie.

Sexual assault is like a legit thing to talk about it just feels so out of place in riverdale, like real human situations don't make feel right in this show anymore.

Quick note I know my notes seem so jumbled but i am typing as i react so when the scene changes then so do i. Speaking off,

What kinda limp wrist stance is that Jones.

Lol so jug wins and now he's being hated on. Lol he still has the shady chick as a friend.

Archie is bout to get murked. I'm sorry when I see a person who's been trying to kill me I don't turn to him being all confused like "Ted?" Hiya bud where have you been.

I'm sorry CALL THE FUCKING COPS. How is there no one else in this school. Like where is that busybody Mr.Honey? Like this dude is in everyone's beeswax yet the one time there is a fucking GROWN ASS MAN, like a real one and not the actors, running around your school you are no where to be found??

Idk how Stclair still walks around so fucking cocky. Like I would never step a foot back in or anywhere near a town where I got fucking broken. No thank you.

This is probably the 10 most intense chesse match I've seen put to tv. Nothing beats TJ playing the computer in that one episode of smart guy. Lol we have to go, locks herself in the room. You have a fucking backpack. Just put them in there. Honestly I don't even think I care who wins.

Okay repeat if the welp there goes another father figure for Archie.

Oh please let Hiram die, I hope to god he is actually sick. Like this seems like a plow from him. Oh look darling I'm so sick.

Oh man I love the use of the tickling thing. Woah Toni has some Cheryl coming out in this monologue. Okay love this but what the fuck was the point of this? Like why even bring nick back up.

Oh no Frank ran what a surprise. Look I want to believe Archie that he will be a new man but this dude has tried like 20 times to be a new man.

Cot Damit elizabeth ( Veronica) you played right into Hirams hands.

Damn Donna, bitch is crazy, but like I can't be surprised. Also are they going to do anything about the video tape thing happening? No okay.

Well that's another one done. I don't know why I keep doing this.

See no one next time.

#riverdale season 4 episode 12

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saint--claire · 15 days

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A new form of cat enrichment play called: God spilt food all over the floor and is too tired to pick it up

#StClaire speaks #her grace the duchess of beans #ffs #she’s having a great time?

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saint--claire · 1 month

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Really cool shots from today!

And I get to go back tomorrowww 🌈💙☀️

#StClaire speaks #you had best believe my brain started bouncing happily round in wing walker la-La land #australian gp 2024 #excited to see the red bull aerial display #those guys are daredevils #if memory serves I think I was initially using some of their videos for inspiration #I didn’t even realise how pretty these shots came out until now #took them half blind and hoped for the best #paid off #that sun though 😂#we’re doing fairly well on the sunburn front but there’s a couple of inches on random parts of me #it’s like twister #left foot right collarbone #bath time chat hours

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saint--claire · 8 months

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I am getting the impression my dad might have been more excited to see the cat than he was to see me 😂

#her grace the duchess of beans #StClaire speaks #driving 4+ hours after a full week has absolutely nothing to recommend to it #I am (at last) horizontal #and the bean is putting on her big girl pants and roaming around to explore with great caution #any hint of unexpected noise #or movement and she dives under the bed without chancing a second longer of being exposed to the horrors #but tbh that’s further than I thought she’d get #and now she is on the bed and shoving her tail in my face we ate back to normal again

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saint--claire · 4 days

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If I blog about it, does that count as writing it down?

#StClaire speaks #science Saturday #experimenting #pretty colours #I hope!#salt and ice and dye #absolutely no idea what it will look like at the end but let’s find out #will report back in 8 hours or so #the bean has done her best to become a multicoloured breed of cat #but sadly has been foiled at every turn #Adam savage would approve

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saint--claire · 1 year

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Invitation to the Deep - Term Glossary

Hi Everybody!

I was blown away by people’s interest with Invitation to the Deep, and to continue sharing the love (and because I’m a nerd) I wanted to continue the glossary in a more readable form. The term definition overviews were really blowing out some of the end notes, so I decided to shuffle everything here, where I can make a nice tidy list. It’s in alphabetical order per chapter, because to do it any other way would have annoyed me.

As I say in the story, please, please take everything you read with a grain of salt. The story is fictional, some of the scenarios I put everyone in are blown well outside the bounds of plausibility. I don’t specialize in diving, much less tec diving, and my marine license has been expired for a good few years. Someone who has a metric ton of dive experience is J_Bailler, who wrote the outstanding ‘Thermocline’ in 2020, and whose technical experience inspired me to get my hands dirty with this fic.

I won’t continually reblog this post, but I will edit and update it each time I update the story itself, which will contain a link to this.

**I am apparently now editing this post with the final additions of the story, only to acknowledge that many of us have now had a crash course in imploding submersibles. I only have two main comments on this - the first being that I originally began writing and later publishing this story early this year, and the second is that the entirety of this story occurs less than a kilometer below sea level.

Chapter 1

FIFO - fly-in-fly-out. Usually applicable for people working mines, oil rigs, or certain other trade jobs where the site you work on is highly remote. You might work a 4-on-2-off schedule, which is where you’d fly out and work on site, staying in provided accommodation for 4 weeks, and then you’d fly home for 2 weeks before rinse and repeating.

LKP - last known position. Think vessels (or submarine pods) lost at sea, or who’ve sent up distress signals before become non-contactable.

Lucet Tenebris - an entirely fictional underwater cave labyrinth set somewhere off the Indian ocean, near Indonesia.

Ring of Fire - Too long to explain in a post. A very real and not made up geographical feature of the globe. https://education.nationalgeographic.org/resource/ring-fire/

VHF - very high frequency (radios used at sea).

Yamaha - in this setting, a boat engine. Noisy.

Chapter 2

Neoprene - The material wetsuits are made out of, to help people keep insulated and stay warm under water.

Chapter 3

Fenders - big squishy things you put between ships to stop them damaging each other if they bump together. Also used to stop boats banging into the wood/metal of marinas.

Chapter 4

Blood bent - a version of a slang term used to refer to decompression sickness (DCS) where pressure changes alter and form bubbles of the gases naturally inside human blood vessels. DCS can often cause air bubbles to settle in and around major key joints and cause people to bend over in excruciating pain, which is how it got its name, the bends.

Embolism - In diving contexts, a gas embolism or an AGE would usually refer to a bubble of air in the blood. This is really, really bad - it has the potential to shut off blood supply to major organs including the heart, brain, or lungs. There’s no short or simple way to explain how they form, put if you look into barotrauma embolisms it’s a fascinating matter.

Equalising ears - Underwater at changing atmospheric pressure, water pressure bends the eardrum inwards. You equalise this change by a variety of techniques, the same way you might in an aeroplane. If you keep going deeper and don’t equalise your ears, you run the risk of damaging them or blowing them out completely. Hurts like a bitch.

External airway - a measure of first aid and emergency resuscitation - if there is risk to an individual’s own airway collapsing or not being able to be maintained in the middle of an emergency scenario, intubation or an external airway implementation will be performed at speed. An intubation tube is semi-rigid -the aim is that when you’re connected to oxygen, we want full confirmation that the air is traveling down the trachea and into the lungs, not stopping in its tracks because the airway’s collapsed.

Hyperbaric chamber - would suggest searching for a picture. In a hyperbaric chamber, air pressure is increased higher than normal air pressure so a person’s lungs can pull in more oxygen than they would under normal circumstances.

Chapter 5

Klick - kilometre.

Neoprene ratings - Wetsuits come in varying thickness. You might see them referred to as a 3:2 or a 5:3 or a 7:5 - this would indicate the material is 7mm thick over the chest and torso, 5mm thick on the arms and legs. The thicker the material, the warmer you'll be. The deeper you go, the thicker you'll want it!

Chapter 6

Buoyancy vest - also known as a BCD. It allows you to control your buoyancy in the water, allowing you to easily float on the surface without sinking under all the weight of your gear, and maintain neutral buoyancy while submerged (so you don’t sink further than the depth you are aiming to go to).

Dive computer - a meter or device used by divers that measure elapsed time and depth during a dive, and use this data to calculate and display an ascent profile which will aim to prevent DCS. Most will also monitor real-time ambient pressure input, some allow for gas switching during the dive, other features include water temp and compass info.

Gas blending - To dive at the depths of this fictional reef, you can’t just use straight oxygen or atmospheric air. Gas blending mixes very specific concentrations of a variety of gases to create a breathable component. It’s very specialised work and you have to undergo highly specialised training to do it.

Tec diving - I’m going to borrow J_Bailler’s explanation and hope she does not mind, which explains it far more concisely than I can. The key differences between regular recreational scuba diving and tec diving:– scuba divers use air or air mixed with oxygen and generally stay at depths shallower than 40 metres. Tec divers use various mixed gases to be able to go deeper and to stay there longer. To breathe pure oxygen at deep depths can kill you. Technical diving also includes cave diving almost as a default term, because you need advanced training to dive in an enclosed environment that has a ceiling. In a normal dive, if something goes balls to the wall wrong, at least you can come up, whether you bend your blood or not. In cave diving...

Trimix - Put simply, trimix is a blended composition of oxygen, helium, and nitrogen, used on deep descents.

Safety stops - planned stops as you reascend from the deep to decompress and allow your blood the chance to off-gas the excess nitrogen forming, and hopefully prevent decompression sickness.

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Cleat - The metal, wooden, or plastic part that protrudes from a jetty that you tie off a boat to.

S&S34 - A fibreglass monohull sailboat, primarily designed for cruising and racing. For those of you who are interested or know the name, this is the yacht Jessica Watson sailed around the world in, at age 16.

Hope everyone enjoys reading! Let me know if there are other terms you’d like to see laid out.

#StClaire speaks #Invitation to the Deep #TGM fic #proof of how far this thing spun out on me

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