Flag at Half Mast / Drapeau en berne #flag #drapeau #halfmast #reflet #reflections #windows #fenetre #building #tower #tour #sky #ciel #winter #hiver #snow #neige #tree #arbre #urbanphotography #architecture #montreal #quebec #canada #mtl #mtlmoments #march #mars (at Montreal, Quebec) https://www.instagram.com/p/CpnKY6Zr3BV/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

Miscellaneous London First image from The Potting Shed restaurant where I had my first tea in Wedgewood China served with chocolate biscuits. An emotional moment, perhaps fulfilling a childhood fantasy. The hotel restaurant theme is Cricket, taking liberty with a Mondrian appropriation. (: There’s a painting from the National Gallery by Camille Pissarro who was painting with Cezanne at the time: “The Côtes des Beoufs at L’Hermitage” 1877 Some mushrooms in Kensington Gardens A photo from the London Bridge of? Can’t remember… Sidewalk lightbulb (utilities) #london #mondrian #pissarro #paintings #funghi #halfmast #flag #queenelizabeth #kensington #nationalgallery #monkeytree #meandering #september #2022 #lsaccoccio7 https://www.instagram.com/p/CjBbHoCvxCG/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#myheart is #forever at #halfmast (at South End) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cikf-h-OT_8/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

🔹️London bridge is down🔹️ Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, the longest-reigning monarch of the United Kingdom died peacefully at her estate in Balmoral, Scotland on 8th September, 2022, at the age of 96. . Did you know ? Her majesty - owned all Swans on River Thames. - could drive without a license - didn't need a passport to travel - had to sign all laws - voluntarily paid taxes, although she was not liable to. . . . . . #uk #unitedkingdom #queen #queenelizabeth #londonbridgeisdown #princecharles #kingcharles #monarch #monarchy #newzealand #australia #canada #usa #joebiden #rip #queenelizabeth2 #queenelizabethuk #halfmast #mankavitlawacademy #clatpg2023preparation #llmcoaching #coachingforllmentrance #ailetpg2023 https://www.instagram.com/p/CiSFDP1vxWF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

thinking about aeromorphs today

year three: flowering ⋆˚✿˖°

18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | 3/6 years | word count: pending.

“I gotta go back up.”

You close your own eyes, then rise. Spiders Georg watches you cautiously, but you’re not making any quick movements — you just open the door, only a few orloni-lengths away, and then ease yourself carefully over to the hearth. 

“How long?” the orloni hears you ask.

Claws hesitates. “Few cycles, at least. Wanna pick some stuff up. See if I can find out anymore about what happened.”

Spiders Georg can hear it in your voice: the pained smile, soft and lingering. He shifts to the side of the plate, so he can see both you and the open door. 

“Big Bad Rocket, scared off by a kiss from a couple kids.”

Claws snorts. “Not scared off.”

“No?” You shoot him a teasing glance. “So you’ll come home quickly?”

Courtship  behaviors, Spiders Georg thinks again.

Claws’ eyes flick away from yours before you can hold his stare. “Got something I wanna do before I go,” he says instead. 

“You’re the king of evasions tonight.”

The shorter mammal shrugs. “Gotta set up the rig I been working on.”

You tilt your head, intrigued. “The big table-thing?”

He offers a brisk nod. “Tomorrow. We’ll need your help.”

“Okay,” you agree easily, sipping a mouthful of cider. “Where and when?”

“Just outside. Early,” he tells you. His voice is wry, and there’s something in it that Spiders Georg doesn’t recognize. It’s almost playful, but not quite. “You can get your ass outta the house first thing instead of just watchin’ me work all morning.”

Spiders Georg cocks his head when you choke on your cider and have to force yourself not to spit it back into your cup, sputtering dangerously. 

“You used to watch me work!” you protest. Your cheeks are suddenly scalding-hot, glowing in the reflected light of the flames. “You’d sit there and spectate while I tried to fight the fucking water tank—“

Claws’ eyes — flat copper stones in the darkness and firelight — suddenly become slits of burning lava-red as his eyelids drop to halfmast. “That was a little different, princess.”

florescence❀ chapter four year three preview ✩ anticipated posting date: april 27

did i write this whole chapter from an orloni's perspective? yes i did. is it going to be another four months before the next chapter? possibly also yes

“The only chance we got is to get to the other side of the universe as fast as we can and maybe, just maybe, we'll be able to live full lives before that whack-job ever gets there.”

rocket & groot leave their friends behind on knowhere, despite the latter’s protests, and end up hiding out on a nothing-planet (with a non-extradition policy) at the edge of the shi’ar galaxy.

🎙️ wip wednesday

trying something different, with inspiration from @ghostoffuturespast (▶️) and @merge-conflict (▶️) ..! yep this is your fault

my voice definitely doesn't quite match the gravitas of the writing ghnnggng but i had fun...

Mike Kowalski was two weeks into his thirties. He shaded his eyes, brushed his fingers against his rifle. Thirty years; fifteen of 'em spent slinging guns around for spare cash. Mike didn't have a diploma on his wall, but he'd learned a thing or two from the academy of Watson.

Like how to compartmentalize. How to shut out everything that's not the mission. Had a fight with your best friend? No, you didn't. Missed rent and now you're three days out from eviction from your piece of shit apartment again? No, you're not. You're missing some sweet green-eyed girl, feeling so worried about her that you wake up already nauseated, that you battle your body all day long, can't keep food down, can't close your eyes without seeing her face? You better fucking not be, choom, not for the next ninety minutes, anyway. You better square up and forget those green eyes. Forget her, and remember what you're getting paid to do right now. Remember how many rounds are left in your rifle. Remember the passcode, how many security turrets you saw. Remember those things and forget her. Forget her until your fixer's name flickers onto your holo; until the gig is marked closed in the database. Forget her until the eddies have rolled in and your heart stops pounding. Until that first drink at the Afterlife's halfway down your throat and you feel warm and numb behind the eyes. Once you've gotten paid, once that BPM drips down to baseline, once that drink sets in.. once you are alone in your piece of shit apartment, alone with the sheets that still smell like her (clove, jasmine, all these words you've heard once or twice but never knew until her hair was in your face) — oh, once you're all alone in the rustle of sheets, thinking about her with your cock halfmast and with that stinging feeling at the height of your sinuses, the feeling of salt-thick tears knocking at the front door of your weary mind— Once all that's said and done, once you can take a breath and think of her laughter, her ass cheeks, the way she pronounces 'ceremony'; once it's done, it's done, it's done, but where is she… Mike's skull fell with the weight of bismuth onto his pillow. Its synthcotton pressed cold against his unshaven cheek. The arm that reached out to grope the empty spot in his bed was covered in abrasions from the desert's hot sand. His stomach growled, his sinuses stung, he missed her, the skin on his forearm burned, he missed her. The skin on his other forearm wasn't real but he could still feel it, even after all these years, and it burned, too, in sympathy. When was the last time he'd missed anything quite like this? He glanced down at his arm. He stood up, trundled to the bathroom. He locked eyes with himself in the mirror, chest bare and heaving. He'd caught the skim of a bullet across the top of a knee; those turrets were getting nastier by the year. A bruise whose provenance he couldn't name was spreading its purple frontier across the top of his clavicle and he felt her absence like the limb he'd lost.

"Let me do this for you.”

Sacrifice | Guilt | Caretaker turned whumpee

TW: emotional whump, sacrifice, helplessness, despair

Weak hands were grabbing for his. Whumpee was merely a heap on the floor. He was exhausted and hardly alert. His frame slightly shaking. 'What had this monster done to him this time?' Caretaker thought bitterly.

He had agreed to the trade without hesitation. He would do anything to get Whumpee out of this nightmere.

A whisper, breaking, but frantic. "No, no, no, no... Care-ta-ker no... you ca-an't."

Whumpee coughed, Caretaker could see every part of him hurting. His eyes only halfmast, but some determination in his aspirated words.

"You can not let him break us both! Leave! Please!" The strain with which Whumpees Adam's apple bobbed against his windpipe let Caretaker swallow himself. Big tears found their way down Whumpees face, breaking the rim of his lids, when he closed them.

Caretaker tightened his steadying hold on Whumpees shoulders. He couldn't show any weakness, not a second before Whumpee was save. His voice sounded actually much stronger than he felt. He bowed down to Whumpees ear. "Let me do this for you!" A hushed kiss to Whumpees tuft, a brotherly warm embrance to the miserable figure on the floor. He would cheerish this moment as long as he could.

Yet not a heartbeat later, the door flew open, as did Whumpees eyes. He summoned some strength and the word just jumped over his lips strongly. "DON'T!"

But 3 men were above them suddenly. Caretaker was pulled away, dragged and dropped by the other side of the dimly lighted room. He didn't fight.

Arms of 2 men grabbed under Whumpees pits and pulled him to his feet harshly. A protesting cry turned into a muffed sob, when the bad handling agitated every hurting part of him. He sank into their hold, his legs too unsteady to keep him upright on his own.

Only a brief moment to brace himself and then Whumpee struggled hard to lift his head, just enough to search for Caretaker's eyes. His own were frantically staring. A pleading look. Whumpee shook his head all so slightly, he was too stunned to struggle. Tears running down his pale cheeks freely. His lips formed the word over and over, but no sound came out. 'NO!'

Caretaker closed his own eyes for a brief moment, trying to capture his last picture of Whumpee, finally being freed. 'Whatever was coming. It was worth it.'

Whumpee had found some last resources and suddenly started to stir in his intimidators grasp. His voice merely a low whisper, developed into a harsh scream. "N...NOOO!"

But he was just dragged towards the open door with any visible effort from his handlers. His struggle was pathetic, but all the more determined. His feet scrapped over the floor. Those guys weren't gentil, but Whumpee fought like a lion cub. "NOO!" His scream echoed between the naked walls of the basement. His form was pulled out the door. Meanwhile, the third man was standing unimpressed in the shades, opposite of Caretaker, armes crossed in front of his chest, chuckling to himself quietly.

Another scream, Caretaker could clearly hear the struggle down the corridor. Still kneeling helplessly on the floor, his hands balled into fists all by themselves.

Someone coursed. A dull sound and the scream was harshly interruped. Another dull sound, something heavy hit the floor. Caretaker flinched. The third man, in front of him, smirked, while pinning him down with an amused, but evil stare.

Someone cursed again down the corridor. Finally the sound of a heavy object being dragged away. The brushing-sound was suddenly overtuned by heavy, intimidating steps approaching Caretaker.

A cruel grimace stared down at him. "Welcome to hell!"

My whumptember2023 masterlist

uh excuse me random pokemon nickname generator who is out here naming their pokemon halfmast?

to me all the flags at halfmast the next couple days are in honor of the thousands of lives Kissinger had a hand in ending. I dont celebrate deaths, even of objectively bad people, but I do look forward to the honest obituaries.

mcdonalds across the street has their flag at halfmast. bitch this is the state furthest away from the UK. shut the fuck up

[ @hclluvahoetel || Continued From Here || Vox ]

[ Valentino ]

Leaning back, he adjusted his legs a little better, one leg shifting lower beneath Vox's arm. The other one tented by his chest, his six-inch heel making it pop a little higher than usual. No doubt he was putting himself on display.

"Mmm, who's to say this isn't for both of us?" He questioned, leaning over into Vox's chest, careful not to smear his makeup yet as he rubbed his face into the TV's neck, "Are you really going to tell me you aren't looking for a little fun?"

His hips bucked a little, and he let his eyelids droop to halfmast as he watched the way Vox's hand disappeared beneath the hem of his skirt.

The first time Jacke saw Imanie she was halfway up a flagpole, earning her the nickname "Halfmast."

It was the first time she had seen the sea in all her glory, having spent the first seventeen years of her life in Ul'dah.

Actually I'm retconning this because it doesn't make sense in the timeline. She had been in Limsa for a few years at this point. Jacke is 18 here.

Though it would be a few years until she joined the Rogues' Guild, the "Halfmast" moniker stuck.

Strangely enough, she has only spent time on her uncle's fishing boat while it was in the harbor. If circumstances were different, perhaps she could have become a sailor.

🔥🔥

Send “🔥?” and my muse will admit whether they find your muse attractive or not. | accepting

@sunxdusk

Haleir's hands, which had been flitting over the enchantment table at their usual quick pace, tracing runes along the surface of a single pauldron and igniting trails of green-blue glow in their wake, stilled to a hovering pause at the question which came seemingly from nowhere.

"Briengr? The young wolf?" There's a hint of a twinkle in his voice. "In a way, I suppose I do. Not that I could tell you what he looks like, of course." He tilts his head, pale lashes sitting halfmast over cloudy blue eyes as if to punctuate while he mulls over his answer. "What I can tell you is this: he is...expeditious in demeanor; impatient in most matters for good or ill; fair of voice, strong of arm, and even stronger-willed. I would not have expected such dedication to magecraft from someone like him but it seems he reserves the same fervor for it as he does everything else--that is to say, all of it." A quiet chuckle. "Truth be told, I have come to enjoy his company."

In honor of those that passed in Virginia Beach tragedy. #usflag #halfmast #honor #virginiabeach #virginia #presidential #order (at Turner County, Georgia) https://www.instagram.com/p/ByMPtDgA1y7/?igshid=10aa92eubww9q

halfmast! thon is just some guy