#30 acre lot

[larrysblooming]

for those of you that live in small, rural areas like me, especially in the south, i just want to say please have hope and know that your surroundings are not indicative of the opinions and viewpoints of the majority of people ❤️

[bonefall]

"How big should a Clan territory be?"

For the dozens of people who have asked this over the last couple of years!

This question comes in a lot of forms; "How big are the Clan territories?" "How much space does one Clan need?" "How much land should I give my Clans to exist in?" The answer is a bit complicated, and depends on the type of land, what you're going for exactly, the setting, so on.

But, broadly, there's TWO particular factors at play here; How anthropomorphic you're portraying your warriors, and how productive the land is.

Factor 1: The Anthro Scale

I'm starting with this one because it could you the simpler answer. The Erins write Clan cats like humans in cat bodies, with massive social units and communal living. Realistic feral cats don't act like Clan cats. They are only semi-social, due to domestication.

See, a Clan cat will "share" territory between all of its members, and some Clans have canonically hit populations of over 50 individuals. Real feral colonies consist of "overlapping circles" of somewhere between 2 - 15 cats, most of them related females.

This is relevant because, even in densely populated areas with as much food as they can eat, truly feral colonies will have about 2 cats per 5 acres, capping out at about 15 members. Queens will hang out together and raise their kittens communally, but they will hunt and patrol in their own "circle." These boundaries are violently enforced against outside cats, especially if it's too crowded.

(Toms have circles 5x as big as a queen's, overlapping several territories. They're also considerably less social.)

So, if you wanted to incorporate some cat behavior into your Clan's mindset about how big their territory should be, while still being willing to sacrifice a bit of "realism" for groups over 15-ish members, simply take Clan population and multiply it by 2.5 acres.

30 cats = 75 acres. That's a little under 57 football fields, if you're American, or 50 football fields, if you're European.

Extra reading: How realistic cat territories work. Contains the numbers I'm referencing.

It's also very important to know; feral cat density is completely tied to food availability, the big numbers numbers are for cats whose needs are met. Cats are solitary hunters, and when they feel like they have to work for their food, they become VERY territorial. The density of cats in rural areas can be as low as 1 molly per 15 acres, even lower for toms, and they will leave if hunting is not easy.

THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NOT FEED FERAL CATS. Please GOD they are SO invasive, please do not give colonies food, they still hunt when they're full so you just end up concentrating a ton of predators in one place. They are not warriors with a law against disrespecting food, they are just kitty cats with silly kitty instincts

I have a suspicion that most of the people who are asking the question aren't really looking for a "realistic cat" answer, though. We LOVE our big cat Clans with their complicated politics around here. You're probably wondering how much land you need to feed your population!

Factor 2: Land Productivity

The exact amount of space is going to vary a lot, because it's more about productivity of the land to sustain a prey population than it is raw size. Remember what we learned back in Warrior Bites: Dietary Needs; a 30-cat Clan will need approximately 3 pounds of meat (10,500 calories) per day, which is about 2 rabbits, or 105 mice.

Here's some visual examples of what I mean. This one (1) acre homestead...

Has 20 patches of high-value crops, plus an orchard, AND livestock pens. This territory alone could attract enough crows, mice, rats, rabbits, and sparrows to feed all those cats daily. That's not even counting the humans themselves, who may be friendly enough to the colony to toss them kibble occasionally.

(this is why cats domesticated themselves. Even without the free food from the humans, farms are extremely productive hunting grounds.)

Meanwhile, the Edmonton Mall, which is a whopping five (5) acres...

Would be utterly barren. Best food you're going to get out of this wasteland is the leftovers humans toss out, and maybe the rats and pigeons that scavenge as well. It's 5x the space, and yet, infinitely harder to feed the same amount of cats.

So, the most helpful bit of advice I'm gonna give you is this; DON'T ask yourself "how big should this territory be?" You're starting with the wrong question. Start with a real location, and think about how you'd find 3 pounds of meat a day in that area.

It will be a LOT easier to think about the logistics in those terms, and this will lead you to the waaay more productive (and fun) worldbuilding questions. Such as;

"Where would the good hunting spots be?"

"What kinds of animals would they be eating? What sorts of beasts can threaten them, here?"

"How many of these animals would my 30 cat Clan need to hunt a day to equal about 3 pounds?"

"Where would these animals be getting THEIR food?"

"Is there enough habitat in the area for the prey to breed and nest? If not, is there more land beyond the territory that the prey is coming from?"

"Where would infrastructure like dens, walls, and dirtplaces go? What would these be made of?"

"Are there any neat spots for the cats to casually hang out on?"

"What would make for a super cool arena for my climactic narrative boss fights?"

"Does this area have unique stage hazards that my cats would have to learn to deal with?"

"Which sorts of plants and herbs would they encounter?"

If your Clan is tool-using, like BB!Clans are, then you can ask even more advanced questions. Like, where you'd find kindle for fire, what objects you can use as crafting materials, and what might make for unique trade goods.

Think about other things related to your Clan's biome-- in a tundra or desert, there will be less for prey to eat, so the territory will be large to cope with the low density. If there's a major body of water, they might have a constant supply of aquatic prey from upstream. Hunting grounds might change based on the seasons.

Also remember not to underestimate how fast small animals breed, and how many of them there can be in one area. Even using low estimates, 1 female mouse has 6 pups, 7 x 6 = 42, 42 x 6 = 252, 252 x 6 = 1,452. It takes only 4 months for mouse population growth to get exponentially ridiculous.

Finally, remember that prey can vary. A well run Clan would be able to generally understand when they've been overhunting one particular species, and start shifting gears to lift the "pressure" off that population.

(In my cultural expansions series, this management task is assigned to one of the new roles-- the Head of Hunting.)

[hometoursandotherstuff]

1967 home in Lake Forest, IL is sort of like a mid century modern castle. 4bds, 3ba, 2,406 sq ft, $975k. I love this house so much.

Interesting front door. Stairs from the lower level come up into the kitchen, b/c this would a pain to climb with groceries, etc.

Big rounded fireplace is a focal point in the living room.

There's also one of those huge built-in sectionals. Not only are the built-ins included, but so is the furniture.

And, at the end, a built-in credenza.

Open concept living/dining room includes a built-in sideboard and sliders to the patio.

This is so nice.

Accordion door opens to the kitchen from the dining area.

This is unusual. I've never seen a kitchen come to a point. Love the mosaic backsplash in typically MCM colors.

Isn't the height of luxury? Not only does it have a built-in blender, but it also has a foldup record player in the wall. I love this.

Then check out the round hallway to the bedrooms and baths.

This house is so cool. The stone wall in the primary bedroom curves and that's the ensuite, plus, the wood wall has storage, and a walk-in closet. There's a built-in make-up vanity, as well.

Storage galore.

Elliptical bath with a sunken tub and mosaic tile. Very cool.

This home has so many wonderful features and so much built-in storage. Bedroom #2 also has a walk-in closet. You never see that in an MCM home.

The room goes all the way around this large built-in closet. I love this house. It goes clear around, and there's a desk back here, for each bedroom.

It wraps around to bedroom #3, which is the exact same layout.

The 2nd bath is a large 3pc.

Then further down the hall, you reach this cute little TV room.

A door in the kitchen opens to the tower stairs going down to the basement.

Brightly lit laundry room with a folding table and sink.

Huge rec room with a beautiful big bar. You could make this look like a retro lounge with neon and stuff. There's also a bathroom down here, but Tumblr only allows 30 photos.

Lots of land- the home is on a .56 acre lot.

You can see the golf course- the home is near a country club.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1120-Grandview-Ln-Lake-Forest-IL-60045/4899894_zpid/?

[cmncisspnandmore]

All Hands On Deck- Part 4

Pairings: Poly!141 X Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 2852 (I suck)

Previous: Part 3

A/N: I wish i could say im back but im not sure if i really am. Life had been really fucking shitty and honestly writing has been the last thing i wanted to do, so heres what i had written before life kicked me when i was already down. Its short and i apologize. When i do get back on my feet i promise i will make them longer.

“What do you think of this one?” Kyle slides his laptop towards you, showing you another house listing. 

This one was 5 bedrooms, with an unfinished basement, 2 large living rooms. You scroll the listing and shake your head. The kitchen was so outdated you were afraid the pipes were insulated in asbestos.

“It needs a lot of renovation, and I'm worried about asbestos. That kitchen looks like it hasn't been touched since the 30’s,” you slide the laptop back to him.

“What about this one Mo Chridhe?” Johnny slides a real estate magazine towards you. The page flipped to a tudor style build, and you shake your head, scrunching up your nose.

“No,” You rest your head on your hand, you glance at John and Simon who are talking quietly amongst themselves. 

“What about you two?” You ask, and they both look at you. Simon and John share a look, communicating without words. You hated when they did that, silently talking with their eyes. All your husbands did it, it was something they developed after working together for years. Johnny and Kyle look over at them and share a look too.

“Oh no you four don't, tell me what you're thinking,” you frown, and they laugh. 

“We’ve been looking for a month, Lovie, maybe we won't find anything that fits all of us.” Simon explains coming over and standing behind you. He wraps his large arms around you, putting his large scarred hand on your stomach.

“So what are you suggesting?” You look up at him, your head tipped back against his chest. He looks down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“How about we build?” He suggests.

“Like from the ground up?” You ask brows furrowed. 

“No from the top down,” Johnny retorts, “Ouch!” He whines rubbing the back of his head as Kyle glares at him.

“Boys,” John warns.

“We found a few large plots of land we can build on, that already have water and electricity hook ups for them,” Simon explains, reaching over you and grabbing the laptop on the counter. He pulls it closer to him, his fingers moving over the keys as he pulls up the listing for the land. Pulls up the picture of a plot of land, 5 acres in the countryside. 

“Hmm..” you hum as you look at it, trying to imagine what kind of house you would build there. 

“We can have whatever you want. If you want 20 bathrooms you can have it,"John crosses his arms across his chest. His shirt flexing over his forearms, your eyes drifting to the light green fabric. Your eyes trail up his arms to his chest, his neck and finally to his face. His beard was a little longer, his bright blue eyes looking at you. As you stare he raises an eyebrow at you. The rumbling at your back sending goosebumps over your skin. 

“Baby?” Kyle says his warm hand landing on your arm. You jerk your head to the right where he stands, a knowing smirk on his face. 

“Did you hear Simon?” He asks, his full lips twitching at the edges as he fights back a smile. A blush flushes your cheeks, making them grow warm.

“No…” you mumble, your face tipping down to stare at the counter. 

“You get lost in that pretty head of yours?” Johnny smiles, “something catch your eye Mo Chridhe?” 

“Think she was staring at our captain,” Simons voice is laced with a smile.

“I-I” you stumble over the words, your eyes darting around the room.

“Have we been neglecting you Darling?” John comes closer standing on the left of Simon. 

“No…”

“You sure?” He whispers as he leans in his lips brushing yours. There's a sharp intake of breath behind you, Simon's fingers flexing over your small baby bump. 

“I think we haven't been paying her enough attention…” Kyle murmurs, his lips finding your neck and shoulder. Trailing over the smooth skin there, his tongue darting out to taste you. A shudder runs through you as John's hand comes to hold the side of your face, his rough fingers brushing along your jaw. 

“Steaming Jesus,” Johnny groans.

“Thank fuck it’s almost midnight,” Kyle adds.

“Think we should spread her out over the counter,” Simon mumbles, a series of affirmative noises follow. As John pulls back from your lips he smiles, your chest heaving with each ragged breath.

“Is that what you want Darling?”John breathes his minty breath fanning across your flushed face. “Want us to lay you out on the kitchen counter and have our way with you?” 

Your voice fails you and all you can do is nod. Desire coursing through your veins lighting your nerve endings on fire. Each movement from them sends new ripples of electricity over your body. 

Johnny smirks, his smile smug as he watches you squirm. He loved how turned on you got when you were pregnant. Your hormones racing, no matter how exhausted you were you couldn’t ever turn them down. It had been awhile since they all had taken you together, finding it hard to find a moment when they were all free, the children all taken care of so they could all dote on you without interruptions. The last time had been the second night after they got back and found out about the new babe. The tiny life growing inside you.

John glances at Simon, the two having a conversation with their eyes again, and suddenly you’re lifted off the stool. Placed on the white counter to like you’re the most precious thing in the world, you shudder as the counter comes in contact with your bare thighs. John moves the things behind you, and places a sweatshirt on the counter, his hands going to your shoulders to lean you back against it as Simon nudges your legs apart with his hips.

You stare up at the ceiling, the recessed lighting you hated staring back at you. You gasp as two sets of lips touch your thighs. Both warm but so distinct.

Simon and Kyle.

Kyle’s stubble is softer against your skin than Simon’s. His lips fuller. Simon’s lips are followed by tiny bites that sting slightly. Leaving marks in their wake as he trails his lips to the hem of your shorts.

“Oh,” you gasp, as a warm hand slips under the hem of your shorts and teases the edge of your panties.

“Wanna play a game?” Johnny asks, leaning his arms on the counter as he peers down at you.

“What kind of game?” You mumble eyes half lidded as he and John trail their fingers along your skin. 

“We blindfold you and see if you know who’s touching you,” Johnny smiles down at you.

“Okay. What happens if I win?” You ask, raising an eyebrow in defiance.

“You can get those chickens you’ve been asking for when we move,” John replies, and you smile.

You had been bugging them about getting chickens. With the amount of eggs your family went though it would be more practical to have them then buy 6 dozen eggs every week. At least if you had some chickens you could get fresh eggs every day.

“Deal.”

A few moments later Simon comes back with a tie from the upstairs closet and gently wraps the soft fabric around your eyes. He ties it securely behind your head making sure not to snag any of your hair in the knot.

“Ready?” Johnny's thick accent asks from your left. 

“Yes…” You mumble, your hands clenched at your sides in excitement. 

Suddenly there's a hand on your thigh that trails down to your knee, the skin is smooth and soft, but the cool metal wedding band gives away who it is. Kyle's band was significantly thinner than the others, he had used his grandfather's wedding band but due to years of resizing it had grown thin and worn. 

“Kyle…” you breathe, and you're rewarded by his lips touching yours briefly. 

“You’re right baby.”

The next set of hands are much more aggressive with their touch, they land on your sides, roughly trailing up, pushing your shirt up with them. Exposing your full breasts to the cool air. Your nipples pebble from the sudden temperature change, and suddenly a warm set of lips catches one of your nipples. 

“Johnny!” You gasp, back arching off the counter.

“Fucking hell Mactavish did you have to get us all worked up like that so fast?” Simon's deep voice grumbles, the sounds of clinking belts and fabric hitting the floor with soft thumps follow. 

“Sorry LT, cant resist these anymore,” Johnny chuckles, his tongue flicking out to lap at your nipple, earning a small moan from you. 

Your breath stutters in your chest as someone else starts to pay the same attention to your other breast as Johnny does. The lips are warm but the tell tale brush of a beard on your skin gives them away. 

“John,” you pant, your chest heaving with each breath. Between the blindfold, the anticipation and the attention they were showering your breasts with you weren't sure how long you were going to be able to pay attention and figure out who was who. Pleasure was already starting to fog your brain. A pair of large hands grabs your sleep shorts and panties and discards them. Before the same pair of hands push your knees up towards your chest and your heels land on the counter top. 

A thick finger glides along your entrance and you choke on a moan. 

“S-Simon,” you stutter out as he swirls his finger through your folds.

“Good girl,” he praises, as he regards you by pushing his finger into your aching cunt. You let out a lewd moan, as John and Johnny pull away from their assaults on your nipples to look down at what Simon was doing. 

“Fuck,” Kyle moans and you can hear his hand working his cock. 

“Want to keep playing? Maybe we should make you guess who’s cock is buried deep inside your tight little body,” John whispers in your ear, making you shiver. Goosebumps erupting on your skin. 

“Oh god, please,” you moan as Simon adds another finger, stretching you open. 

There's a moment of pause and you know they’re all looking at each other trying to figure out who gets to go first. After a brief moment Simon pulls his fingers from you and you whimper at the loss. 

The soft sound of a cap opening, and suddenly you can feel someone standing by your feet, two sets of hands help pull you to the end of the counter, your ass almost falling off but the person between your legs makes sure you don't fall. Your body trembles from anticipation and when you're sure you're going to combust if someone didn't touch you right that moment. With one hard thrust the person between your thighs slides into you. Your breath stutters in your chest as they grab your hips and slam into you. 

“Fuck!” you gasp, as they pound into you.

“Who’s between your legs Darling?” John asks, as you struggle to make sense of who's between your legs through the waves of pleasure that are rolling through you. You take a few breaths and really concentrate. The hands holding your thighs were calloused but not enough to be Simon or John.

“Tick Tock love, who is it?” Simon's voice is right by your ear. 

You groan as the person pulls almost all the way out before they ease back in, they were long but not nearly as thick as Johnny or Simon. 

“Kyle!” You gasp as Kyle slams his hips into you, his thrusts faltering as he falls over the edge, your own orgasm sweeping through you.

You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls out and Kyle’s soft lips fall onto yours before he places a soft kiss to your baby bump. 

“You’re right,” Kyle murmurs, as he trailed his hand up to your cheek where he brushes his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Ready for the next person?” He asks softly, and you nod. It takes a few seconds but eventually someone else settles into between your legs, they spread your legs wider and their hands grip your waist. They weren’t gentle, as they thrust into you with one harsh thrust, before setting a brutal pace that had you a moaning mess.

“Oh fuck! Oh god,” you moan loudly. They didn’t stop their brutal pace, their fingers digging into your skin, nails biting into the soft flesh.

“Simon!” You scream as your next orgasm quickly overtakes you, the mixture of the brutal pace and the lingering pleasure still coursing through your body from Kyle sending you tumbling over the edge far faster than normal.

“Fuck you’re so tight, so wet for me.” Simon grunts as he slams into you. It only takes him a few moments to find his own release, Simon leans over you and kisses you, his arms on either side of your head, His lips brush yours and you sigh softly. 

“You’re such a good girl,” Simon mumbles against your lips before he pulls away and slips out of you. Your entire body trembles as you lay on the counter, your skin slick with a thin veil of sweat as you wait for the next person. 

“Can you handle anymore” John's rough voice is in your ear. His breath tickles the side of your face as he talks.

“I-I don't know,” you mumble, your entire body felt like jello.

“Did we become too much for you Darling? I thought you could handle all of us?” John presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“I don't think she can, such a shame,” Kyle chimes in. his hands brushing across your thigh.

“You can handle it Lovie,” Simon coos, his large hand trailing down your chest as he tweaks one of your nipples. Your back arches off the counter and you moan loudly. 

Without warning there's someone gripping your thighs and pulling them apart, their rough hands digging into the soft flesh, and you wouldn't be surprised if you had bruises after. A moment later they bottom out inside of you. Your thighs shake as they move, their thrusts are softer than Simons but there's a controlled restraint in them. Almost as if they are afraid it really is too much for you. “Johnny, don't hold back,” you moan. 

“Ah fuck,” Johnny groans as he thrusts back into you harder. His hands digging into your thighs to hold you in place. “Fuck youre so tight for me, so wet.”

As Johnny continues his brutal pace someone undoes the tie around your eyes and you blink as your eyes adjust. Simon leans down and captures your lips in a kiss. One of his hands on your cheek as his tongue invades your mouth. Your head spins from the sensations, the feeling of Johnny's rough thrusting, Simon's attention to your lips. Johnny’s movements stutter and a moment later he stills completely. His hands let go of your thighs. His palms smack the counter on either side of your hips. 

Your moan is swallowed by Simon as Johnny pulls out of you. He dips his head and kisses the red fingerprints on your thighs for a moment. His breath tickles the sensitive flesh there, before he pulls away. 

“I guess I'm the only one left,” John smiles as he takes Johnny's place. You tear your mouth away from Simons. 

“I guess you are,” you breathe your eyes meeting his. His lip ticks up in a small smirk as he leans over you, one large hand wrapping around your throat for a moment before he squeezes lightly. His blue eyes remain locked on yours as he slowly slides into you. From the corner of your eye you can see Kyle and Johnny slip from the kitchen and a moment later the sound of the shower turning on echoes through the house. 

Simon watches as John fucks you on the counter, his eyes never straying from your reactions. The way your back arches off the counter, the way your breathing stutters when he hits that one spot inside of you. As John picks up his pace he lets go of your throat and moves his hands to your hips. He holds you in place as he slams into you with a steady yet brutal pace. As your orgasm rips through you a hand covers your mouth to silence your scream. Simon's dark brown eyes staring down at you. His pupils lost in the color of his irises. John pulls out of you and catches his breath and Simon slowly lifts his hand from your mouth and your heels slip off the edge of the counter. Your entire body went limp, your hair stuck to your forehead.

“You okay?” Simon asks softly.

“Better than okay…” you give him a lazy smile.

“Oh?” Simon tilts his head towards you, as John pulls on his boxers. 

“Yeah, I was just ravaged by my 4 husbands and I get chickens.” 

Next:

Taglist: @sushiumex @asialovesyou09 @readinggeeklmao

[door]

more queer houses!

Klovharu Summer Cottage by Raili Pietilä for Tove Jansson and Tuulikki Pietilä

1964-1965, Klovharu Island, Porvoo Archipelago, Finland

Tove Jansson and Tuulikki Pietilä spent every summer in this cottage for nearly 30 years. Tove chose the site by camping on various places on Klovharu, and they designed it with Tuulikki's sister-in-law, based on a fisherman's cabin on the island of Pellinge. It lacked electricity and running water, and if guests arrived, Tove and Tuulikki would give up the bed and camp outside. the cottage is a single room, with a cellar underneath--for food storage and a small sauna--built into the rock. the cottage is now an artist residency--with the original interiors preserved--but can be visited during one week in July. More about the cottage. Interview with Raili Pietilä. Tuulikki's films.

Hangover House by William Alexander Levy for Richard Haliburton

1937, Laguna Beach, California, USA

Hangover House, or Halliburton House, was designed by William Alexander Levy (he later dropped Levy from his name) for celebrity explorer Richard Halliburton and his ghostwriter and lover Paul Mooney. Supposedly, by the time the house was completed Halliburton and Mooney's relationship had expanded to include a third: Alexander himself. The house was built of concrete, with large public rooms and three small bedrooms, one for each of the men. Sadly, Halliburton and Mooney were lost at sea in 1939, and Halliburton's family sold the house and buried all references to his queerness. The house still stands today and is a private residence. More images here.

Azurest South by Amaza Lee Meredith 1938, Ettrick, Virginia, USA

Azurest South might be the first International Style home to have been built in Virginia, and instead of in a wealthy white enclave like you might expect, it's located just off of the campus of Virginia State University, an Historic Black College/University. it was built by pioneering artist, architect, and educator Amaza Lee Meredith for herself and her partner, Dr. Edna Meade Colson. colson was the head of the education department at VSU, and meredith was head of the art department (which she had created in 1930). we know from her scrapbooks that meredith was looking at european designs and experimenting with them in the house. the result was something unlike everything around it--flat roofs, glass bricks, bright paint and tilework inside--an antidote to traditionally conservative virginia architecture. azurest south today belongs to the vsu alumni association. it is not open to visit, but has received increased attention and grant funding over the past few years, so it may well be someday! More about Meredith as architect. More about Azurest South. And more! (additionally, if you're near richmond va there's an exhibition about meredith & azurest south at the institute for contemporary art until march 9 2025)

Six Acres by Mary Imrie and Jean Wallbridge 1954-1957, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada

Mary Imrie and Jean Wallbridge were partners in work and life, establishing the first all-female architectural firm in Canada. in the 50s, they built a house to serve as their home and office along the banks of the north saskatchewan river and called it "six acres" after the size of the lot. they traveled enthusiastically and widely (pdf) and were avid outdoorspeople. like a lot of women architects at this point in the 20th century, they were largely relegated to residential commissions, which they found frustrating. that said, they gained a reputation for helping clients who were struggling with construction costs by encouraging gatherings of friends and neighbors to assist with the work, something they had hands-on experience with, having assisted in the building of their own home. the house is still standing and is now the office of the alberta land stewardship centre. timeline of their lives and careers. more about the house itself.

Finella by Raymond McGrath for Mansfield Duval Forbes c. 1850, renovated 1929, Cambridge, England, UK

Mansfield Forbes was an english don at clare college, cambridge. in 1928 he leased a victorian home called "the yews" and spent the next year working with Raymond McGrath (previous seen here) to transform it into a modern fairyland, named in tribute of Finella, a 10th century Pictish queen. the interiors were a celebration of new materials--there were floors made of induroleum (wood and asbestos powder), walls painted with iridescent cellulose paint, something called copper plymax (??), and the entry hall had a vaulted ceiling covered in glass panels backed with silver leaf. forbes intended it to be a gathering place of sympathetic minds, to host salons in celebration of modern art and architecture in a setting a queer and future-looking as he himself was. unfortunately, he vastly overspent in outfitting Finella, and when he died suddenly in 1935, the contents of the house were auctioned off. Finella is still part of Cambridge and houses fellows of gonville & caius college. the college recently restored the hall, which can apparently be toured on specific days. interior photos from 1929 and 2004.

112 Charles Street by Eleanor Raymond 1868, renovated 1922, Boston, Massachusetts, USA

When Eleanor Raymond began work on 112 Charles Street, it had recently had the front 10 feet sliced off to allow for the widening of the street, so her renovation was essentially a reimagining. eleanor designed the house for her mother, who had her own apartment, as well as eleanor herself, her sister rachel, and her partner ethel powers. the three of them shared a floor. powers wrote for the magazine House Beautiful (and would go on to be its editor) and featured the home three times. in the largest feature on its interiors, she emphasized that since it was a home of three business women, it needed to be "self running." raymond would go on to design and build much more modernist houses, and the conservative appearance of this one might be due to how early in her career it was (she graduated from her architecture program in 1919), but i think it's more likely that she was aware of the necessity of appearing somewhat inconspicuous in her surroundings, as a queer woman with a career. read more about her work here. and here.

[inaworldofmonsters]

Some Brian Thomas (Hoodie/Hoody) headcanons:

Instead of replying with an “okay”, Brian will say “10-4”. Always.

Knows a lot about hunting, although doesn’t particularly go hunting often- he would rather just go to the grocery store.

Knows how to do taxidermy and can do it well.

Has a lot of buck heads mantled around his house, including a bear rug which is his favorite (shot it himself).

He worked at a Piggly Wiggly in the meat department from 16 into his early adulthood.

Is one of those dudes who don’t own a couch, just a recliner.

Has an elderly dog named Buddy.

Loves rewatching Yellowstone.

Grew up on his granddaddy’s farm and would take care of the chickens, cows, and a horse named Bullet.

Owns a cabin in the southern Appalachian mountains on 30 acres of land.

Very territorial of his property.

Sleeps with a sawed-off shotgun underneath his mattress.

And of course has a gap tooth

[qnomnstrs]

College Student! Yuji x Older! Female Reader

Yuji is 20 while reader is in 30s. No curse AU

Now that I'm on break I'm hoping to get all my drafts pushed out. Sorry if this feels rushed, im lazy.

Warnings: 18+ Smut, oral M! recieving, oral F! recieving, coercion, friends to lovers, 69 position, angst, minimal plot with porn, mentions of Uncle Sukuna, mentions of parental loss

Yuji talks in Pink

Reader talks in Blue

Word Count 2.8K

You lived close to a university, in a cul-de-sac. You purchased your own home! You lived here for 2 years now and loved it. You had a nice backyard, garage, and a two story home. It was a small two-story house but it was just for you, it worked. All the extra space let you have an office and Studio. You were living the dream. It was easy since you didn’t have any kids. During this self growth era, you have tried dating here and there, but found you work best single. You still have plenty of friends and visit often with your elderly neighbor.

The cul-de-sac was peaceful. You took up morning walks, to take in views and get out of the house. The campus was only a few blocks down, so you would even walk past all the people and scenery. You often stopped at the Café on campus or sat by the water fountain.  

The one thing that wasn’t your favorite: the boarding house across the street from your home. They had parties occasionally. They would toilet paper the cul-de-sac homes, including yours. It was young adults having fun, being independent. It’s not like they had huge parties in the movies. The noise was often controlled. Still, it wasn’t your favorite thing. Next time you bought a house you would be sure to look out for any boarding houses.

Today you found yourself cleaning up said toilet paper off your front lawn. It was officially summer and there was a big party for the graduates. You continued to pick up the toilet paper, searching over your lawn. You sighed thinking your grass was getting long again. It was such a chore to mow every week and weed wack. You looked around for any remaining pieces of toilet paper. There was some behind your shrubbery. You bent over the shrub in an attempt to clean it.

“OH! Um excuse me miss?”

You swiftly turned. A man stood directly behind you. He must have come to ask you something, right as you bent down in front of him. You didn’t even hear him approach. He was younger than you. He wore a tank top and was quite muscular. He had pink hair, which you thought was cute. We love a guy who isn’t afraid to wear pink. He had a school lanyard on his keychain, presenting him as a college student.

“Sorry didn’t see you there! Yes do you need something?”

“I was wondering if you needed any lawn services for the summer. I can mow, trim shrubs and take care of weeds.”

“Hmm well I normally do it myself because I don’t want to pay a lot for lawn care. So how much is it?”

“For your yard… its not quite half and acre, so 20 a week . 30 for shrubs and weeds”

“Wow that’s actually not bad. Are you not going home for the summer?”

“I live in the boarding house right across from you. I stay there year-round. I have lived with my uncle since I was young. He’s great but I’d like to have my own space now. I can’t quite afford an apartment yet. That’s why I’m going around the Cul-de-sac trying to mow lawns for money.”

“Well, if you want money, I suggest raising your prices”

He laughed “well it takes an hour or two per house, so I make 20 an hour on regular houses.”

“that is very true I might have to start my own lawn care business.”

“Hey! This is my block! Don’t you dare try stealing my customers now.”

You both laughed. It was really easy talking to him. The social anxiety seemed to dissipate. He has such a warm bright energy that was just so comforting.

“oh I’m sorry I forgot to ask your name. I’m y/n the owner of this house.”

“Im yuji. You seem a little young to own your own house miss” yuji said so effortlessly flirty. You rolled your eyes at his compliment. You still smiled at his charm .

“Well I definitely own it and I’m definitely like at least 10 years older than you so I’m not that young.”

Yuji scratched the back of his head and chuckled in embarrassment.  “well anyways if be happy to start this week if you’re interested.”

“sure thanks Yuji.” He waved and walked off to the next house.

 It wasn’t long before Yuji came back that week. He would bring his own mower and other supplies. You looked out the window, to confirm that it was Yuji, in your yard. You went to go grab cash and have it ready.

The summer heat kicked on early this year. The sun was beating down hard. Yuji was dripping in sweat. He took off his shirt and wiped his face. His muscular frame now exposed. You lingered at the window a bit longer than intended. He spotted you, smiled and waved. You blushed and waved, quickly moving. You didn’t want to look like you were staring, because you definitely weren’t. You decided to prepare some ice tea for him. That’s why your eyes lingered too long, was because he seemed so hot, you told yourself.

 Yuji came to the door once done. You invited him inside for a drink. He happily accepted. It was a nice break for him. Your house was in his route during the middle of the day. This was a perfect time to relax and get to chat with you. You figured others would offer him a drink as well, especially your elderly neighbor. They absolutely did but Yuji only ever accepted your offer.

A few weeks went by, Yuji came over every week and you invited him inside every week. You enjoyed the company. You’ve gotten to know him a bit better. He was such a gentleman. He was caring and sweet. His personality was so refreshing. You often looked forward to seeing him. This time though, Yuji seemed a little fidgety. He was not acting normal.

“Hey yuji are you okay? I hope the heat didn’t get to you.”

“N-no im fine I just- listen y/n, I’ve been wanting to tell you that I really like you. I enjoy spending time with you and was wondering if I could take you out sometime.” Yuji looked at you right in the eyes when he confessed. He was nervous but he wanted to show his determination. You flinched not expecting that.

“Yuji…. I appreciate the offer, but I think I will decline. You’re very nice and I like our talks but I’m a little old for you. I’ve dated quite a bit and one of my biggest things was I always said yes. Even if I wasn’t attracted to someone I said yes. I figured those feelings developed later. I realized I should be interested before I say yes. I learned to have more expectations and our age gap bothers me, I don’t think I’d feel like I’m in an adult relationship. You’re still in college too. I hope this doesn’t make you to upset. I just don’t want to lead you on. Its better to talk about it up front. You’re a very nice person, you should look for someone closer to your age.”

Yuji sighed and rubbed his face.

“honestly…..I think that made me like you even more. Thank you for being so honest. I just really like getting to know you. I admire you a lot you know? Your very mature and so well put together. That’s the type of person id want to be with. Don’t worry I’ll still clean your yard well.” He tried laughing it off. You smiled and felt a little ache in your heart. Yuji probably wasn’t feeling too well, you basically said you don’t think he is man enough to date you. He left shortly after with a smile still on his face.  

After that Yuji still continued to come every week. You still invited him inside and he still accepted. It was almost as if nothing happened, almost.

It was Saturday, your day off. It was around 10am and you still slept. Yuji wasn’t coming until 1pm. You heard a knock at the door. You went downstairs and answered.

“hey y/n sorry if I woke you up. I just finished your yard. I had a few cancelations today, so I finished a little quicker.”

“OH! no that’s okay- sorry I slept in a bit today. You still can come in, I need to grab my wallet.”

“are y-you sure? I can come back later if you want?”

You walked away to your end table by the couch. The door was still open with yuji in the doorway. You bent over not realizing you were still in your oversized shirt and no pants. Your panties were exposed for Yuji to see. His eyes widened and he stared right at your ass. You wore a plain pink thong. So, your whole ass was showing. He tried to look away, to give you some decency but he couldn’t. His eyes traveled lower to your clothed pussy. He could see the outline of your labia. The thong left little to the imagination. His cock twitched in his pants, slowly coming to life.

“yuji you’re fine come inside. I made some muffins yesterday help yourself.”

With your back still turned, Yuji rushed inside, to the kitchen. He tried getting away from you, as fast as possible. You blinked, confused why he was so rushed. Maybe he really likes muffins? You walked into the kitchen, to see Yuji stuffing his face with muffins.

“wow they must be good huh?” You chuckled and placed the money on the table. Yuji looked up and your nipples were hard. He could see the color of them too, through your sheer white shirt. He tapped his foot restlessly. His cock was now fully erect.

“Um yuji are you-“

“y/n! Please! I’m a man still you know!”

You looked at him puzzled. What did that have to do with anything? You looked down and realized you were in your night outfit. You blushed profusely.

“oh my God! I’m sorry I didn’t-“

You stopped rambling as you saw Yujis erection in his pants. He was huge. Damn thing was resting on his thigh. You gulped. Of course this damn guy had to have a thick cock. He spoke pulling you out of your thoughts. He definitely noticed you staring. He made a desperate plea in the midst of the situation.

y/n please can I-… eat you out?” He once again looked into your eyes with a fierce determination.

“what!?”

Yuji clasped his hands together, “please y/n we don’t have to date or anything just please let me eat your pussy please. God it’s all I want”

You clamped your thighs together and bit your lip. You didn’t mean to tease him like this. You forgot Yuji is still a guy with needs to. It turned you on to be wanted like this. It still felt wrong. You were sure what to do. But then again, what is exactly stopping you? Yuji is a handsome guy, killer personality, and huge cock.

“..o-okay”

“Really!?”

“yes really”

He smiled. You both got comfortable in the living room. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You went to sit on the couch.

“No I want you to sit on my face.”

“what? That wasn’t apart of the deal!”

“Please y/n just-”

“Okay fine”

Yuji laid on the couch, you carefully moved your legs around his head. You haven’t lowered yourself yet. Yuji gulped and grabbed your hips. He gently pulled you lower and slipped your thong to the side. You were now fully exposed and he got to see all of you. He groaned starting to plant kisses to your pussy. You moved your hands into his hair. You squeaked at his eagerness. He flattened his tongue and took a big lick. He lapped at your folds roughly pushing his tongue against you.

He removed his hands from your hips to unzip his pants. You couldn’t see him behind you, pulling out his cock. One of his hands went back to your hips while the other jerked himself. He wasn’t ashamed to loudly rub himself and groan into your pussy.

 He nibbled at your clit sending a wave of pleasure down your legs. Your thighs twitched as he continued. You were getting distracted by the noises behind you. You could hear the dry rubbing of his hand. He was moving up and down very fast. You started to hear squelched noises from him roughly rubbing the precum on his slit.  You bit your lip, you wanted to see his cock.

“Yuji I want to turn around it feels better that way.” You lied just wanting to watch him pleasure himself. He almost didn’t let you get up. You moved and looked into his wide eyes. You shouldn’t have. He looked so desperate. His lips were shiny coated with your fluids. You switched and planted yourself back on him. Now facing his cock.

He shoved his tongue into your hole moving it in circles. You squirmed and squeezed his head with your thighs. You gasped out and whined at his aggressive movements. Yuji was acting like he was starving.

You watched as he continued the assault on his cock. It was flushed red, especially his tip. The way he was mistreating it, dry rubbing, must have been a little painful. He was practically rubbing his cock raw. It seemed he was getting off at you watching him. He put on a little show, he was desperate for your attention.

You licked your lips. You really shouldn’t be doing this. Your brain is clouded with lust. It felt so good to be ate out. And the thick veiny cock in front of you was calling your name. Without warning you bent down, pushing his hand out the way and deep throated his cock. You groaned at the stretch in the back of your throat. You felt yuji yell into your pussy. His cock was raw and sensitive , being in your mouth was sending him over the edge. He began rapidly kissing your entrance. It was like he was thanking you. He continued sloppily kissing your pussy, fantasizing his cock was entering you pussy. Both of his hands gripped your hips pushing you harder into his face. He started lightly thrusting his cock into your mouth. You began sucking him off like it was the last cock you’d have. You went up and down. As you came up you kissed his tip and licked around the head. Yuji whined.

“Please y/n be gentle my head is really sensitive right now.”

He spoke into your pussy. You didn’t listen, however. You continued to assault his tip loving the taste of his cock. You felt this was payback for this predicament. Yuji became whiny licking your clit.

“Y/n please I can’t last long if you-“

You deepthroated him again sucking hard. As you went back up you sucked his slit. You were giving the tip of his dick a hickey. Yuji tried moving his hips, pushing you off. It was too late he came, hard. He groaned into your pussy a few times. Yuji came in your mouth, and you spit it back out all over his lap.

You were about to speak when yuji buried two fingers in your cunt.

“Wait Yuji!” You moaned, forgetting all about your pleasure for a moment.

“Y/N I wanna show you I can take care of you. I wasn’t supposed to cum first. Let me pleasure you, please”

Yuji’s fingers pumped in roughly rubbing against your walls. He hit all those sensitive spots. His fingers curled and prodded. You whined. He added his tongue back to the mix. He licked around your opening, where his fingers connected to you. He then focused on your clit, with gentle nibbles. Then he shook his hand back and forth. The sensation was something you’ve never experienced. Your pussy fluttered and you came. You squirted on his hand and face. You moaned as he continued the sensations while you rode your high. Your body tensed. No one has ever made you squirt from just fingers before. You got off of his face, catching your breath.

“What the hell was that?”

“You like that trick?” Yuji sheepishly laughed “Sorry it was payback for making me cum quick.

For a moment everyone was silent. Many emotions and thoughts surfaced. Yuji looked at you. He wanted to say something but waited for you to make the move.

“Yuji is that date still on the table?”

[fruitbird15]

recently my dad, who dabbles in writing, happened to see something David Seymour said about privilege, and wrote an article about it in one furious sitting. That post is now gathering a fair amount of momentum on social media such as facebook and instagram. So fuck it, why not share it here:

"David Seymour said on twitter

"If you believe you have special rights because of your ethnicity, you’re going to be disappointed with the Treaty Principles Bill. When you’re used to special rights, equality feels like oppression."

A question I have for those who state that Māori get special privileges in Aotearoa New Zealand, Actually two questions.

1/What are they

2/what decade did they start in this country

Did they start in 1863 when the New Zealand government of the day started the Land Settlement Act? An act that confiscated millions of acres of land from the Māori because the Māori refused to sell, leading to the Māori land wars. An act that by the early 1900s meant that Maori held just 8% of the land they had held when they signed Te Tiriti O Waitangi and that percentage continued to fall. As of 2024 land currently owned by Maori is 5% and that's After Waitangi Tribunal Settlements.

The last bit of land was confiscated during WW2 to make an airfield.

Was this one of their special privileges that settlers to New Zealand didn't get?

Did they start in 1867 when the government signed the Native Schools Act, which decreed that all Native Schools would only be held in English? An act that is often blamed on a petition from tribal chiefs calling for a school for their Moku. Yes they did send such a petition but it asked for 2 things, that they be taught literacy, science, and numeracy and the second was that they be taught both in English and Māori. This act wasn't repealed till 1987 by which time several generations of children had had their language and culture beaten out of them. One of these was my Father, speaking Te Reo still makes his hands hurt and he's 80.

This must have been one of those special privileges that only Māori got as this privilege wasn't offered to Dutch or French or other European children who might have spoken another language at school

Was it being Blackbirded? For those that don't know it was the practice of kidnapping Māori and Pacifica and selling them as slaves in Queensland to work the sugar cane plantations.

Thats a privilege that will make you feel special

Was it in the 1850s when the Crown started confiscating Māori children and giving them to Pakeha families to greater assimilate them into the British way of life, An act that continued until well into the 1980s under the foster system leaving them subjected to mental, physical, and sexual abuse

Its a special privilege for special children

Was it a special privilege that John Ballance transported poisoned sugar and flour up the Wanganui River to sell to Māori an act that got overlooked when he became prime minister of this country

Someone was privileged anyway

Or was it in 1907 when the Government signed the Tohunga Suppression Act which banned Māori from access to their healers and medicines and made them rely on Western medicine instead? Did this get rid of a number of quacks, yes but it also suppressed a lot of local knowledge about medicine from local plants that had worked and it put them into the hands of the Western medical system that didn't have their best interests at heart either. It was also aimed at suppressing Māori religion and culture, after all, you suppress the belief system you suppress the people

The only laws aimed at suppressing a religion passed in this country were made against Māori so that must be one of their special privileges, but they did get to pick what religion they could be forced into, Protestant or Catholic so there's that

Is one of the special Privileges a shorter life span, on average 7 years shorter than Pakeha. Yes, the average life span for Māori in the 1700s was 30 but that was the same for Europeans. Is it because they have the privilege of having their symptoms overlooked in a medical system that has prioritised pakeha males, Is it that Pakeha women are more likely to be offered pain relief during childbirth than Māori women? Is it because they were often paid less than their pakeha counterparts at 81 cents to the dollar and so couldn't afford regular checkups? Is it because they were taught not to put themselves forward and to be noticed by society, to be a good Māori?

Is it a privilege that the New Zealand health system can no longer take their race into account when giving them treatment?

Better-researched people have written more on this special Privilege so I will move on

Was it in 1926 when old age and widow pensions came into this country and Māori were only paid 75 per cent of the going pension rate. In 1937 when pressed on why the Senior Treasury official Bernard Ashwin stated "On the face of it, it may appear equitable to pay the average Māori old-age pensioner the same amount per week as the average European pensioner, but in this matter questions of equity should be decided having regard to the circumstances, the needs and the outlook on life of the individuals concerned … the living standard of the Māori is lower – and after all, the object of these pensions is to maintain standards rather than to raise them.’" Or more simply a grass skirt is cheaper than a suit.

I guess being able to make do with less is a special privilege

Was it during the early to mid-20th century when signs saying No Māori's on pubs, hotels, theatres, and even drinking fountains were not uncommon and cinemas and pools had separate use days? In many places, Māori were only allowed to use the pools on Friday as they were cleaned on Saturday. It must have been that Privilege of trying to rent a property and seeing advertisement after advertisement saying Europeans only. Was it that privilege of being denied bank loans because they were Māori?

Being treated as lesser in your own country must be a privilege

Is it the privilege that Māori are jailed at 3 times the rate of Pakeha for the same crimes that will get a paler-skinned person a non-custodial sentence or no charges at all? They do get a special privilege that their race is taken into account when arrested, or charged or sentenced but that comes with the privilege of their race working against them every step of the way. During the mid-20th century often young Māori men were seen socialising together and harassed by police until they committed an antisocial crime like swearing in public and were sent to borstal

Is it a privilege that unjustified force is disproportionately used against Māori in police encounters and arrests

Constantly being under the watchful eye of the law must be a special privilege indeed

Was it a special privilege that Māori had to start occupying confiscated land in 1977 starting at Bastion Point in an effort to finally get some redress to the massive loss of tribal land, An occupation that lasted for over a year before it was brutally put down by the police and Army

Bash our heads, it's our privilege as Māori

And then there's that special privilege that Māori love and enjoy called the 2004 Foreshore and Seabed Act an act that takes the aforementioned and places them in the hands of the crown as opposed to the public domain or as was guaranteed by Te Tiriti and then promptly confiscated from guardianship and ownership of Māori. Luckily this bill was repealed in 2010 and replaced with the Marine and Coastal Act 2011 which guaranteed the right to access justice through courts but only if Māori could exercise that special privilege they have.

Can they show that their rights to the foreshore and seabed have been exercised since 1840, in accordance with Tikanga Māori, without substantial interruption and was not interrupted by law, say a law passed in 1863. Then if so, by special privilege then they can put it before the courts. In 2024 they got even more special privileges when the Government ignored the courts recommendation to lower the threshold of proof and required Māori to prove they had had continual exclusive use and ownership since 1840 to have a chance to get confiscated foreshore lands back

Yay the privilege of ever-moving goalposts

Did the privilege start in 1988 when the Crown returned Bastion Point to Ngati Whatua after a prolonged court case or was it in 1989 when the first Ti Tiriti O Waitangi settlement was done giving Waitomo Caves back to Uekaha Hapu or was it 1987 when Te Reo was recognised as an official Language or was it the early 2000s when Bilingual signs started being put up around Aotearoa or was it in 2024 when the Government banned Bilingual signs on roads and in government buildings?

Was it in 1867 when the Māori were granted 4 parliamentary seats, given the Maori population at the time compared to Pakeha it should have been more although it could have been 1868 when Māori men got the right to vote? Oddly it was 11 years before pakeha men were given that right, before then, only landowners could vote and because Māori held land in common all of them could vote

Was it in 1880 were several hundred prisoners from the Māori peaceful protest group Parihaka were held and treated to 2 years hard labour without trial and their settlements burnt and confiscated

Was it in 1977 when race was added to the Human Rights Commission as something you couldn't discriminate against as well as gender, religion or beliefs?

Was it in 1977 when a section was added to the Race Relations Act that made it illegal to publish, broadcast, or make public statements that were likely to incite hostility or ill-will against a group of people based on their: Color, Race, and Ethnic or national origins

Was it after 130 years of being ground down and stepped on and murdered and marginalised and robbed, that laws were made that said, you know we probably shouldn't have been doing that

Is the privilege the knowledge of what 184 years of all of the above does to a people, the hurt that it causes deep into the bone

Is it that in the 40 years since that Human Rights Commission rule that Māori have begun to hold up their heads, to be proud of who they are, to speak their language and to rediscover their culture?

To speak out against things that are wrong in the health system, the education system, the justice system, the welfare system and the political system. To demand, not ask but demand redress for the crimes that the Crown has not only done against them but encouraged others to do to them.

Did the Privilege start when the Waitangi Tribunal awarded 6 cents for every dollar of land confiscated? If you want that broken down, for every million dollars worth of land confiscated, the reparations were only $60000

Is it because New Zealand as a society got used to seeing them be shy, and humble and hard-working and lost amid the diaspora that pakeha society caused?

That society got used to being able to exploit the bits of Māori culture we liked, like the music and the humour and the strong back and compliance and when they found their voice and took it back and that redress was happening and suddenly, they were privileged because how dare they not be happy with scraps from the table.

That Māori were no longer being the Good Māori.

Is the privilege that in 2024, 184 years after the signing of Te Tiriti, Māori are finally getting a fraction of what they should have had if Te Tiriti had been honoured

One other question to the Pakeha of Aotearoa New Zealand

If all of this looks like a Privilege. Do any of you want to swap places?"

[copperbadge]

Custom Wax Stamps

banesidhe

Would you be willing to share the source for custom stamps? I also do these and have had a hard time finding stamps with what I want on them

Oh sure! I hope it's okay that I pulled this out into its own post, I didn't want to spam the OP on the other. Apologies in advance if you know any of what I'm about to say, I'm just going to infodump and I want to make sure I don't miss anything. I will say that the process was smooth and pretty painless for me, much more so than I expected.

As preface, if you haven't been to the Craspire website, they have acres of stamps for very cheap, and I think the vast majority of sellers on Amazon/Ebay/Etsy actually just dropship from Craspire. If you're looking for variety, I'd definitely look there. (If you have, again, apologies, it just took me a while to find it and I spent more than I should have on a couple of my stamps before I started buying direct from them, so I like to make sure I mention it.)

There are a ton of shops on Etsy offering custom stamps, with wildly varying prices -- when I was doing research I saw one that was $55 for just the stamp, and another that was $30 because you couldn't buy the stamp without a starter-kit bundled in (furnace, spoon, wax). Definitely don't pay that much. I didn't get super exhaustive with my research because I couldn't really find a better price than a shop that I'd already done business with, and I knew they were reliable, so I just stuck with them. The shop is PraeyDesigns -- they have reasonable rates overall and everything I've bought from them has been good quality, so they're one of my go-tos for both stamps and wax (there's cheaper wax available but I like their selection). They offer a number of different sales pages for custom seals, so I'll link direct to this one, the one I purchased.

On that page, the third image lists the sizes they offer -- I bought the 3cm oval because I needed it "long" to accommodate the tail on my image. For reference, most larger stamps you buy prefab are 4cm rounds, most of the smaller stamps are 3cm rounds; that particular page only offers up to 3cm but PraeyDesigns does have other custom stamp pages that offer 4cm. In any case, it looks like the page just offers you the chance to pick from a variety of designs, but they do explicitly offer custom engraving from your own image; under "add your personalization" you should give the size head you want and then say, "I have an image for a design, please message and I will send it to you."

They reached out about 24 hours after I purchased, through Etsy, and asked for the image; this is what I sent them, also through Etsy's messenger function, and the result:

I'm given to understand that they generally have to retrace the image regardless of size or quality to turn it into a vector, so they can take a fairly low-res image and do a lot with it, but I tried to give them as clean a JPG as I could to work with. While the result is not absolutely identical, for an engraving smaller than a quarter it's pretty damn accurate and I think most of the minor shifts in design were for clarity's sake.

But I was pleased it really was that simple -- I bought the item, they said "Please send the design", I sent it, they confirmed they had it, and I didn't hear from them again until they sent me the shipping notification. Potentially if you don't have as clean an image they might need to talk to you about issues with the design, so I would make sure you have a very clean-line black-and-white image to send, but they seem pretty competent and they do good work.

Love to see what you get if you end up getting one! Definitely tag me. :)

[extra-stout-stories]

Buffet Date

When fatphobic tourists with a dark secret interrupt a lovely dinner date, an SSBHM defends his lover from both social and supernatural hostility. Part three of the series that began with Werewolf / Sweater Weather and continued with Full Moon. (SSBBW, SSBHM werewolf, buffet stuffing, romantic but no explicit sex. CW: Exhibitionism, protagonist is victim of fatphobia, werewolf-on-vampire violence.)

The stories that I enjoy writing the most are the ones that come to me in a single flash of inspiration. When I saw the "Bulging Bimbo" prompt for day 30 of Feedist Kinktober 2024, I immediately imagined the SSBBW from "Werewolf / Sweater Weather" getting dressed up in a skimpy outfit for a buffet date with her werewolf lover, who has to defend her from fatphobic vampires. Obviously.

I decided not to use "Bulging Bimbo" as the title, but this is canonically a Kinktober story. Writing about this couple is a lot of fun.

If you'd like to inspire me with a story suggestion, anon asks are always open. I can't promise a response, because not every prompt gives me that telltale flash of inspiration, but a lot of my most popular stories originate with asks that did, so get in my inbox and see what happens. 😈

CW: This story contains descriptions of the protagonist being subjected to fatphobic taunts, so please don't read to the end if this theme will upset you. However, the first half works as a cute and non-explicit buffet stuffing story with some exploration of the relationship between shame and kink. If that's what you're in the mood to read, stop before the section break with the paragraph that ends "heat rising on top of heat."

And remember, reblog (don't just like) if you enjoy it.

--

"Careful tonight. If you get much fatter, I'll have to drive you home in the bed of the truck."

"That a challenge?" She grinned, her hand on his belly, feeling it shift and jiggle as he steered the car into the parking lot of the buffet. "You know I can turn the tables, right? If I get you going you'll eat so much that you won't be able to walk back to the truck. And then I'll have you at my mercy."

"Right there in the buffet?" He laughed and put the truck into park, then turned towards her for a kiss, their bellies touching as they spilled over the center console. "You're an exhibitionist, but you're not that much of an exhibitionist. How about a compromise? We'll take turns. You get us a tray, then I get us a tray."

"Only one tray for each of us? I'll starve!" She stuck her tongue out playfully and darted in for a second kiss. "You have to say, 'then you get us another tray, then I get us another…'"

"Okay, okay. Infinite trays for each of us. Just be sure to load my plate up with mashed potatoes when it's your turn."

"It's a date." Grunting, she slowly lowered herself out of the truck, taking a deep breath as she steadied herself. Fortunately, he had gotten a parking spot not far from the entrance. As she walked around the front of the truck, he slipped his hand into hers and she leaned against him, feeling the softness of her exposed belly brush against his jeans.

Apart from her shoes and undergarments, the only things she wore were a pair of Daisy Duke shorts and a white blouse tied up at the waist to expose the hang of her belly. All of her belly was on display, a great slab of rolling softness swaying back and forth as she moved slowly towards the door of the buffet, feeling his grip release as he ran a palm up her back rolls and drew her in even closer with a powerful arm around her pillowy shoulders. She sighed with contentment and felt a little shudder of excitement pass through her.

They didn't come in to town often. Once or twice a week to shop for essentials, and he usually handled that; she had plenty to do around the homestead, and plenty of home-cooked snacks to eat when her chores were done. The town had grown since she moved in with him, and she could tell that he didn't like watching several acres of "his" forest disappear underneath a strip of big box stores; sometimes it left him feeling melancholy and she'd soothe him with a kitchen table full of her baking, followed by a long back and belly rub and ending in sex.

But he understood that the world was changing, and the progress that had come to his little corner of the wilderness had some advantages.

Like the buffet. There were several national fast food chains on the strip, but the buffet was local, owned by an old friend he'd known for years who had spotted a business opportunity when they first widened the artery road to make room for new development. It was a running gag that when the two of them walked in the owner would give an exaggerated sigh, tug mournfully on his beard and look at them with pleading eyes: "Please, don't let today be the day you two put me out of business. My cooks can only make so much at a time."

Then he'd break out in a grin and lead them to their favorite table, pulling out two chairs for each of them and winking as he walked back to the register. "Eat up tonight."

"You know we will." He smiled at the departing owner, then hefted himself back up from the chairs for the first trip to the buffet table.

By tradition, he filled the first plates for both of them. Like a boulder covered in dough, she thought to herself as she watched him move, almost as wide as he was tall, taking up space both vertically and horizontally. His upper arms quivered in the sleeveless leather motorcycle vest, a hint of belly peeking out from the t-shirt he wore underneath. It took him a few minutes to fill two plates up with a sample of everything on the buffet menu. It was an eclectic selection of dishes from a dozen different cuisines: roast beef and popcorn chicken, lo mein and baked ziti, crab rangoons and fried wontons, not to mention a half-dozen different cakes and pies on the dessert table.

And the mashed potatoes, of course. The house specialty. Soaking with butter, fragrant with rosemary, pungent with fresh-picked garlic that the owner grew himself on a plot just outside of town.

He seated himself on the chairs and she watched his belly put just a little more pressure on the vest as his t-shirt rolled up just another half-inch. He grinned. "Dig in."

The first round of plates went down easily for both of them, and so did the second. They had big appetites. She loved to cook for him, but she also loved the feeling of eating in his presence when they went out together in public. He could keep pace with her effortlessly, bite for bite, and this made her feel less self-conscious about her own appetite and her own size. Of course we're fat when we eat like this, a comforting voice in her mind seemed to say at those moments, and that's okay. I don't need to worry about being skinny to feel attractive. He thinks I'm hot -- and he's the hottest guy alive.

Sometimes in those moments she'd catch his eye and know he was thinking the same thing. The hunger on his face was for her as much as it was for food. His eyes would trace the softness of her belly as it quivered exposed in her lap. They'd lock in on the way her arms quivered as she lifted another forkful to her lips. Hungry eyes. Hunter's eyes.

He was looking at her now as she took a bite of crab rangoon. He smiled, his fat cheeks dimpling. She smiled back. She felt a warmth begin to spread beneath her belly.

Of all the feedist fantasies they shared, exhibitionism had been the hardest for her to open up to. She had tried it on her own a few times, long before she met him, long before they moved in together to the homestead at the edge of the world. But her arousal then had been at war with her discomfort, eating alone at a restaurant table, knowing that hostile eyes were on her. The shame was hot -- I'm a fat girl going back for seconds, she'd think to herself, and thirds and fourths, and she'd feel that mounting excitement at the recognition that each bite was going to make her even fatter -- but it was also painful. Lonely. She loved the way her body looked, but only in secret, and the world had a thousand ways to make clear that it didn't share her judgment.

And she'd never have dared to eat like this with her belly out. Not before she met him.

But in his presence she felt safe to do it. Safe in the presence of a fellow fat person, another supersized glutton who knew what it was like to face the pressures of a hostile world. Safe in the presence of a man who shared her appetites. Safe, too, because she knew he could be ferocious.

On a night like this, with the moon just a tiny sliver in the summer sky, she could barely see it. If she hadn't been his lover, hadn't known it so well, she wouldn't have seen it at all. When the moon hid itself, this side of him hid itself too. But it was there. An occasional gleam in his eye, a savagery in the set of his teeth as he tore greedily into a bite of meat. A strength and a hunger more than human, showing themselves in the subtle motion of the powerful muscles beneath his swelling rolls of fat.

Wolf blood.

Tonight, though, he was almost all human, her cheerful partner and adoring lover. He gave her belly a playful squeeze as she slid past him for her third turn loading up plates as the buffet, and she smiled and blushed.

By the time he went back for his fifth round of plates, their eating was as much about foreplay as nourishment. Their breath was growing shallower and more ragged, their movements slower. She watched his t-shirt slide higher up his belly, watched the buttons of his vest strain even further. She felt her own belly, full and heavy, and reached a hand to rub it, half for relief, half to seduce him. His eyes watched her fat fingers as they slid across her pale, doughy flesh. His lips pulled back slightly in excitement. Sex in public was a step too far for both of them, but she could feel him mentally undressing her. Just like hers, his arousal had been building as their bellies filled, heat rising on top of heat.

Then she heard something that turned her heat to a chill.

--

"Holy shit, look at them."

It was a voice with a nasal sneer, coming from somewhere behind her. It was followed by another voice, a smarmy snicker. "Oh my god."

He heard it too. She could see his face harden suddenly, his eyes narrow. She willed herself not to turn around. Her face was red now, but red with shame. Even here…

"I thought we were going camping, not whale watching." A third voice, this one female. A round of laughter.

She watched his face harden further.

"Look how many trays they have! They've been at this all day!" The first voice again. "Well, at least we know this buffet has plenty of pork."

She was trembling with embarrassment. He reached a hand out and took her wrist, his powerful grip gentle, soothing her. She felt relief then, the relief of his calm, steady presence. He didn't look embarrassed.

"They're making fun of us."

He nodded. "They are." The smile was gone from his face. "They're making fun of us. And it's not just that."

Slowly, her lower lip still trembling, she turned to cast a glance back at the trio of diners at the table behind her. Tourists. All three of them impossibly pale, impossibly stylish, impossibly gaunt. Not intending to, she caught the eye of the woman -- a cold, judgmental eye in a pale, angular face like sheets of jagged marble.

The woman sneered at her. She felt his grip tighten on her wrist.

"They shouldn't be here. And they shouldn't be looking at you like that."

He had the hunter's eyes now, gold and gleaming, some sort of ancestral instinct drawing power down into him. She could almost see it, as if the sliver of moon outside the window were casting a beam of silver light directly into his chest, filling him, strengthening him. His grip tightened again, barely, imperceptibly. Then he let go.

"They smell wrong."

He stood up from the table.

His breath was slow and heavy. His belly was full, she knew. He could move fast when the change took him, but his belly was still full. He moved slowly towards the trio of tourists, and for the first time she could detect a hint of fear in their faces.

"What did you just say about us?"

The taller of the two men had a pallid, funereal face. His voice was arrogant. "We're just taking in the sights. I didn't think there were hippos this far north. Or are you some kind of bear?"

His companions laughed, but she could hear nervousness behind the laughter as her lover continued to move slowly towards them, steadily looming larger over their table.

The second of the men was just as pale as his companions. He wore his hair in a quiff and was wearing sunglasses indoors. He put up his hands. "W-we… we didn't mean it. We don't want any trouble." She could see the woman beginning to inch her chair back.

"Trouble?" Her lover's voice was a low growl. "You're already in trouble. What are you doing here?"

"C-camping…" the shorter of the two men stammered out nervously, but his companion cut in, his voice still nasal and arrogant, a smirk on his face. "Hunting. I'm told the hunting is good here. We're going for a hunt in your lovely little town." His smirk widened.

Suddenly the man was looking directly at her, eyes locked with hers as his smirk drew back into a grin.

There were fangs behind his lips.

"I'm hungry tonight. Perhaps I'll hunt some pork."

Before she could even blush, her lover lunged across the table, hundreds of pounds of bulk in impossibly swift motion. The table crashed to the floor and the three tourists were on their feet, moving faster than she ever thought possible. The woman became a bat. The shorter man became a blur of red mist. But the taller man drew a long knife from underneath his jacket and grinned even wider. "Yes, I'm very hungry tonight. Pork, make it rare. Boar, too. I'll have you both for dinner. And unlike you two pigs, I won't gain a pound." His arms were long, lean, gaunt as he began to bob and weave with the knife, advancing on her lover.

But he leapt back, dodging the knife, keeping his distance as he backed towards the buffet table. He's really full, she thought to herself. Even if he changes he won't move fast.

The rest of the diners were on their feet now, some sprinting for the door, others backed against the wall. All eyes were on the enormously fat man at the buffet table and the unbearably gaunt man with the knife, coiled to strike, advancing towards him.

He leapt, like a blur of white marble holding a blade.

There was a crash, metal on metal.

The knife slipped from the gaunt man's grasp as it hit the bottom of the steam tray that her lover held like a shield in his two hands. Then he gave a swift kick and the gaunt man dropped.

The steam tray was already mostly empty, its contents spilled all over the gaunt man writhing on the floor. Fresh mashed potatoes, steaming hot.

Soaking with butter.

Fragrant with rosemary.

Pungent with fresh-picked garlic.

The whole room seemed to smell of garlic as the gaunt man snarled, his elegance and beauty gone now, just a pale, knobby, wretched creature with nothing but malevolence on his face. Vampire. Blood-sucker. Nosferatu.

"Get out." Her lover's bulk heaved with fury as he loomed over the vampire. "Get out now."

"You heard the man." There was the sound of a shotgun being racked. It was the owner of the buffet, standing in the door of the kitchen. "There's silver buckshot in these shells. Get the hell out of my restaurant and never come back."

Slowly, cravenly, the vampire stood. A slight glamour began to return to his face, making him handsome again in his gaunt, lean way, but there was fear in his eyes now, and he backed away. A bat fluttered by his shoulder and became a woman. A red mist solidified to become a man.

"Let's go. Come on. You were right, this town isn't good hunting." They seemed to creep out the door. A moment later, an engine started and a car sped away.

With her practiced eye, she could see the change receding from her lover. He was human again.

The owner lowered his shotgun. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just a little shook up. Hard to move fast on a full belly."

"I should have known they were vampires when they walked in. I'm not as sharp as I used to be."

Her lover grinned at his friend. "That's because you traded your spellbooks for cookbooks. And checkbooks. Hard to keep up with the supernatural when it's hard enough keeping up with inflation."

The owner relaxed. "Guess so. Thanks for driving them out. This meal's on me."

"Thanks. I think I just worked up an appetite." He smiled. "But I spilled the mashed potatoes. Could you make another batch? And some fresh coffee, too."

"You got it." The owner sighed. "When the cops come, I'll tell them it was drunk tourists making trouble. No one got hurt. And at least they won't show up on anyone's camera."

As the owner left for the kitchen and the other diners began to filter back in, he stood behind her chair and put his arms on her, massaging her shoulders and neck as she slowly relaxed. "You okay, sweetheart? I'm sorry about what they said."

She smiled up at him. "Just a little shook up. But I knew I was safe with you."

"Good." He leaned down for a kiss. "You look hungry. What should I get you while we wait for the mashed potatoes?"

"Dessert." She slipped a hand behind his neck and pulled his face closer. "And after we shut down this buffet… dessert."

"Okay, but I don't think I can wait until we get home. Let's park in the woods and you can start by giving me a belly rub in the bed of the truck."

She smiled. "Sounds perfect. But you'd better take that coffee black. I'm going to keep you up all night."

[vintagelasvegas]

Last Frontier / New Frontier / Frontier Hotel & Casino

Hotel Last Frontier opened October 30, 1942, the second resort on Hwy 91 south of Las Vegas and first to adopt an all-encompassing theme, the Old West. (Postcard, '43.)

‘41: R.E. Griffith purchases Guy McAfee’s 91 Club, begins building the resort with architect & partner William Moore

‘42: Last Frontier Hotel opens 10/30/42.

‘43: Little Church of the West wedding chapel opens 5/22/43. Griffith dies, Moore becomes managing director of the resort.

‘47: Last Frontier Sportsdrome race track, and Texaco Fire-Chief service station both opened

‘48: Last Frontier Village begins opening. Official opening two years later along with Silver Slipper. R Stadelman, W Zick, architects.

‘50: Silver Slipper opens 9/6/50. (Silver Slipper was independent of Frontier from the years ‘56 to ‘68.)

‘51: Moore sells resort to Kozloff, Katleman, and other owners. Other owners changed in the late 50s & mid 60s, P. Foster & Bayley in ‘59.

‘55: “New Frontier” modernist casino and showroom, opens 4/4/55 between the hotel and Last Frontier Village. The resort is rebranded New Frontier. Little Church of the West is relocated to the southern side of the resort.

‘57: 9-month closure of casino

‘58: Signage for “Last Frontier” over the hotel wing facing the Strip, lasting through demolition in ‘66.

‘60: Sportsdrome closed. Last Frontier Village closed between ‘60-‘64.

‘66: Vegas Frontier Inc. (M Friedman, M Clarke, partners) lease the property from Banker’s Life. Last Frontier Hotel demolished in May. Construction of all-new hotel begins in Sep. Texaco Fire-Chief demolished in Nov.

‘67: Frontier opens 7/30/67. Sign by B. Clarke, AdArt. Lease and property sold to H. Hughes in Nov. 

‘68: Hughes buys Silver Slipper, bringing the casino and Frontier under the same ownership for the first time since '56.

‘81: New facade, sports book addition

‘88: Sold to Unbelievable Inc (M. Elardi & family). Silver Slipper closed, demolished.

‘89: Atrium Tower addition

‘91: Culinary Workers Union strike begins 9/21/91, lasts until 2/1/98.

‘98: Sold to P. Ruffin. Elardi group retains 16 acres.

‘07: Sold to El-Ad Group. Closed 7/16/2007. Tower imploded 11/13/2007.

‘08: Dec., sign removed.

Sources: Moore Carries Through Idea of R.E. Griffith, Founder. Review-Journal, 9/3/50; Doby Doc, Pt. 3. Howard Hickson’s Histories, gbcnv.edu; Last Frontier Village is Las Vegas Showplace. Review-Journal, 2/28/55 p12; New Frontier Hotel Will Reopen. Review-Journal, 2/17/66 p3; In Final Stages of Demolition. Review-Journal, 5/3/66 p7; Break Ground for New Hotel. Review-Journal, 9/26/66; A. Finnegan. Crews remove New Frontier marquee before Encore opening. Las Vegas Sun, 12/12/2008.

The pool was in front of the hotel. The empty lot across the road is the future Desert Inn, and Wynn resort. Teich postcards with serial numbers 3B, 4B, 6B, indicating dates of '43, '44, and '46.

1940s - Black & white postcards by Frasher Fotos.

1940s ('43 or later) showing the Little Church of the West. L. F. Manis Photograph Collection (PH-00100), UNLV Special Collections & Archives.

[reasonsforhope]

"A Delhi-based engineer has designed a replacement for polystyrene packaging out of “rice stubble” the dead stalks left over after the rice season in India, millions of tons of which are burned every year.

They say wisdom oft comes from the mouths of babes, and Mr. Arpit Dhupar was at first left scratching his head when his young nephew drew a picture of the world with a grey sky.

Everything else was normal, green grass, yellow sun, white and brown mountains; why was the sky grey? It dawned on him that his nephew was drawing the sky as he saw it every year when the rice stubble was burned: grey.

“We shouldn’t live in a world where we have to explain to kids that the sky should be painted blue. It should be a given,” he told The Better India.

So he launched a new business venture called Dharaksha Ecosystems in order to tackle the rice stubble problem. Essentially, the farmers need it cleared off their land asap after harvest. Its high moisture content means it’s not useful for stove fuel, so they burn it in massive pyres.

In his factory, he turns 250 metric tons of rice stubble harvested from 100 acres of farmland in Punjab and Haryana into packaging, while paying the farmers a rate of $30 per acre for something they would usually burn.

Dhupar originally wanted to use mushrooms to rapidly biodegrade baled stacks of rice stubble, but found that the fungus left behind a metabolite that wasn’t biodegradable—in other words, he’d have to create a waste problem to solve a waste problem.

Over time he realized that the filaments that make up the subterranean structure of the mushrooms, called mycelium, were acting as a sort of binding agent, turning the baled stubble into something durable.

“This wasn’t a waste material but could be a usable one,” said Dhupar. “Through bio-fabrication, we could use the stubble waste to create a material similar to [polystyrene], but one that was biodegradable.”

There are a lot of these sorts of sustainable packaging ideas floating around, invented by people who rarely have experience in markets and commerce. This is not the case with Dhupar’s stubble packaging.

He has already prevented over half a million pounds of polystyrene from entering landfills since launching his product, which has numerous, exceptional properties.

They sell around 20 metric tons of their product every month, making about $30.5 thousand dollars per annum, mostly by selling to glassware companies."

-via Good News Network, 3/22/23

[hometoursandotherstuff]

The tree in front of this 1902 Queen Anne Victorian in Eureka, CA just adds to the magnificence. 4bds, 2ba, 2,600 sq ft, $1.3m.

The details on this home, both inside and out, are impeccably preserved.

When the double doors swing open, it looks as if you've truly stepped back in time.

The home is curated. The furnishings are mostly period.

You rarely see an original ceiling and medallion, let alone antique light fixtures. Original fireplace, also.

Every built-in cabinet, plus the fireplace, is intact in the dining room.

The kitchen is basically the same. Some of the original cabinetry remains. The modern chef's stove fits in pretty well, but I don't like the table & chairs.

Leaving an old kitchen simple is the best way to go in an historic home, b/c they were utilitarian to begin with.

The butler's pantry and back porch.

Staff stairs.

Love the vintage bath with antique sink and tub. This is now also the laundry room.

The landing from the main hall stairs.

I think that door opens from the staff stairs. Look at the lacy millwork.

Despite being a time capsule, this home is so light and airy.

The bedrooms are nice and big.

This room is an office for two.

Attic stairs.

The attic opens to a terrace, so it would be great if it was finished.

Behind the main house there's another residence.

And, look at it- a full size house with 2 floors.

There's a full kitchen.

A lovely primary bedroom on the 2nd level.

And, a double shower.

The 2 car garage functions as a barn, too, but it has potential on that 2nd floor.

Big, beautiful yard with a pond. You can see the 2nd residence attached to the main house.

Stunning side garden.

.30 acre lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1228-C-St-Eureka-CA-95501/2057017548_zpid/?

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

Our Flag Means Death Season 2: Exclusive First Look

Vanity Fair joins Stede, Blackbeard, and the rest of the cast on set in New Zealand for an exclusive early look at the second season, debuting on Max in October.

BY SARAH CATHERALL (AUGUST 24, 2023)

Only the fans of Our Flag Means Death can determine whether they’ll be satisfied with the show’s second season, which debuts on Max in October. But if you ask Fernando Frias, who directed three of the season’s episodes, he sounds pretty confident: “If my life depended on saying whether it’s yes or no, I would say yes.’’

It’s December 8, 2022, and the principal actors on Our Flag Means Death as well as the 800-plus extras and crew members have three days left of their three-month shoot for season two. Things are starting to get emotional. “You’ve been the most amazing crew I’ve ever worked with,” says one actor as he wraps his final scene. Frias says it’s like leaving “a long summer camp,” adding, “it’s like a family.”

Rhys Darby as Stede Bonnet. COURTESY OF NICOLA DOVE/MAX.

The series created by David Jenkins was a surprise breakout hit when it debuted in the spring of 2022, building a fiercely devoted fan base with its silly yet emotional deadpan, and defiantly queer take on the adventures of real 18th-century pirates. Everyone involved in Our Flag Means Death is eager to preserve the surprises in store for season two, which kicks off with gentleman pirate Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) and softhearted bad boy Blackbeard (Taika Waititi) ruefully separated after finally realizing their love for each other at the end of season one.

It’s “going to be unexpected and surprising, but also very pleasurable and satisfying for those who like the show,” promises executive producer Garrett Basch. It “doesn’t follow the expected route,” teases Con O’Neill, who plays Blackbeard’s devoted enforcer, Izzy. All that means is we’re not at liberty to share too much about what happened on set that day, which included emotional conversations, new cast members, banter with the Kiwi crew, and some seriously killer costumes.

But these exclusive new images give a hint of what is in store. There are fresh faces—Minnie Driver will guest-star as the real-life Irish pirate Anne Bonny, and Ruibo Qian joins the cast as the mysterious merchant Susan—and a lot of New Zealand actors and locations, now that the production has decamped across the Pacific.

“The viewers will see the scope of their world has expanded based on the fact we’re able to get to these amazing locations within a short travel time,” says executive producer Antoine Douaihy. “You will notice a marked difference between the two seasons in terms of the scope and the scale.’’

Minnie Driver joins the cast this season as Anne Bonny. COURTESY OF NICOLA DOVE/MAX.

There will be plenty of familiar faces too, of course. On set that day in Kumeu, New Zealand, a rural area about 20 miles outside of Auckland, are Waititi and Darby along their fellow returning cast members O’Neill, Vico Ortiz (Jim), Kristian Nairn (Wee John), Joel Fry (Frenchie), Matthew Maher (Black Pete), Leslie Jones (Spanish Jackie), Samson Kayo (Oluwande), Ewen Bremner (Nathaniel Buttons), Samba Schutte (Roach), and more. New onboard are two Kiwi actors, Madeleine Sami (most recently of the Australian mystery-comedy Deadloch), and Samoan-born Anapela Polataivao. And there’s one returning figure impossible to miss on the soundstage: The Revenge, the stately ship that Blackbeard—a.k.a. Ed—commandeered at the end of season one. In real life it was carefully transported across the Pacific Ocean from the show’s original Los Angeles soundstages.

The Revenge is vast and impressive, much larger in real life than it appears onscreen. But it’s not the only stunning scenery in store. There are around 50 sets involved in the production of season two, including the 30-acre forest behind the Kumeu Film Studio, Piha Beach, and the wild, black-sand Bethells Beach.

Waititi, who also executive produces the series, was part of the push to film season two in his native New Zealand. “Taika is an extraordinary talent and what’s really great about him with his international success is he’s remained very committed to New Zealand and very loyal to our industry,” says Annie Murray, the CEO of the New Zealand Film Commission. “The beauty of filming in New Zealand is that you can find incredible varied locations within a very short driving distance. [And] when you get to those locations you can turn your camera in any direction.’’

Rhys Darby as Stede Bonnet, filming at New Zealand’s Bethells Beach. COURTESY OF NICOLA DOVE/MAX.

The scope of the season is very evident back on set, as well. There’s a whole other pirate ship in addition to The Revenge, plus sets for a floating market, Stede’s cabin (empty when we visit), and the Republic of Pirates first glimpsed in season one. Behind the scenes it’s a maze of wardrobe, wig rooms, and dressing rooms. In another facility, props are stacked on shelves, ready to be taken away to storage as soon as filming wraps—vases, plates, antique furniture, and piles of mannequins replicating dead bodies which were used in one of the battle scenes.

Costume designer Gypsy Taylor joined the production this season and has designed hundreds of costumes, checking with everyone on set that day to make sure everything is in place before cameras roll. Taylor says each of the principals have six to eight looks in this season, and that every item—every leather belt, wig, bit of jewelry, even a mermaid tail—has been made by her 60-strong workshop. The costumes this season have a “Mad Max, ‘streets of New York’ feel,” says Taylor. “David Jenkins was keen to give the series a cool rock-and-roll vibe…so we had these rock-and-roll elements with an 18th-century twist.’’ As is evidenced in the image below, even Stede’s crew winds up with some unexpected new looks over the course of the season.

Wherever it is these Revenge crew members have found themselves, there’s something that surprised them. COURTESY OF NICOLA DOVE/MAX.

Two armies are part of the action in season two, all of them needing elaborate costumes—around 150 Chinese pirates and a fleet of 100 navy officers. Even the breeches are in studded black leather, and punkified. Says Taylor, “The theory behind their costumes is they would’ve stolen from other pirates…. Although our Wee John has started to become quite the seamstress, so he’s knitting this season.’’ True enough: Nairn is wearing what looks like a hand-knit sweater on set that day.

Wee John isn’t the only pirate getting into crafts. Nancy Hennah, who has managed the hair and makeup for both seasons, points to Blackbeard’s wig—made in London—and tattoos as Waititi works on set. With 14 tattoos on his right arm and 10 on the left, plus plenty of scars, he needs at least an hour in the makeup chair. “Taika wanted most of the tattoos to look like he’d done them himself,” Hennah says. “Like on slow days on the boat when there’s nothing much to do, they sit around and give each other tattoos.”

She gives a hint of a storm in one episode: “One of the hardest days here in makeup was when they were caught in a storm on the back of the boat. [The cast] were saturated for a whole day, which caused havoc with things like tattoos and hair, wigs and beards.’’

Taika Waititi as Blackbeard, who begins the season with a broken heart. COURTESY OF NICOLA DOVE/MAX.

By mid afternoon, Con O’Neill is taking a break in his trailer. He pulls his slim, leather trousered legs up to a corner seat. A candle blazes on the kitchen bench as the veteran actor talks about the physical endurance required during the shoot. “It’s been frantic,’’ he says. His signature gray hair barely moves, frozen by the team of hair stylists who arrived on set around sunrise. (All interviews with actors in this story took place before the SAG-AFTRA strike). 

Izzy “goes on a remarkable journey” this season, says O’Neill. “He understands what love is and whom he’s in love with.’’ On a series featuring a variety of joyful queer relationships—not just Stede and Blackbeard, but Black Pete and Lucius (Nathan Foad), Jim and Oluwande, and Spanish Jackie and her many husbands—Izzy’s unyieldingly straitlaced devotion makes him an odd man out. By the end of season one many fans speculated that Izzy was driven by something at the intersection of love and obsession. This season, according to O’Neill, Izzy gets even deeper into that dynamic. “Physically it’s been quite demanding, and also emotionally it’s been quite demanding to be playing a man enraged by unrequited love, who’s basically a hopeless romantic, and to be able to play all that and also remember that this is fundamentally a comedy.’’

Though the show is often warm and fuzzy when it comes to feelings—one of Stede’s mottos in season one is that when faced with challenges, “we talk it through as a crew”—Izzy represents the darker, more violent side of pirate life, which the show doesn’t shy away from either. “What I love about this show is it does allow itself to swing between the two,” O’Neill says. “We’re almost operatic in our darkness at times, and then we swing back to the sweetness of the simplicity of the love of our two guys. It’s been challenging just to get the tone right.”

“We’ve gone further this season than we did last season with those tones,” he continues. “So sometimes it’s quite interesting to remind yourself that you have to take your foot out of the tragedy—literally, your foot—and put it back into the comedy.”

With a season behind them to build the dynamics between the characters and the actors alike, on set there’s been “a lot more spontaneity and script revisions based on what’s happening day-to-day,” says Douaihy. “The cast are so comfortable with one another and their characters, that they move through it naturally.’’

Leslie Jones as Spanish Jackie and Taika Waititi as Ed a.k.a. Blackbeard. COURTESY OF NICOLA DOVE/MAX.

The way O’Neill puts it, they’ve also built trust with Jenkins, their showrunner, to follow some bigger swings. “I don’t think David Jenkins is ever going to follow an expected route. I’d hate to drive in a car with him.” Thinking of the fans who will greet the series when the show returns in October, O’Neill continues, “I think they’re going to appreciate what [Jenkins] wants. Season two does stick to the original premise that we created in season one, which is take it on to other levels.’’

One character leveling up in a major way this season is Jim, the quiet badass (there are knives involved) played by the nonbinary actor and activist Vico Ortiz. “Jim really evolves in season two,” they say. “They’re a bit more chatty and a bit more conversational…. Most of the first season you see Jim in disguise, hiding, but in this one you see them a bit more [thinking,] Oh, this is my chosen family, and I feel good. There’s a bit more zaniness and a bit more softness.’’

Like O’Neill and several other castmates, Oritz had attended their share of fan events by the time season two began filming, and the entire cast and crew returned to the high seas with a strong sense that their show had taken on a life of its own. “It’s so beautiful to see that people are finding community within the fan base. It’s about creating spaces where we feel safe and seen, and it’s so great to see that so many people watch the show and feel validated in their experiences, whatever that may be,” says Ortiz. “A lot of people that watch the show are like, “Yeah, I’m a guy and it’s good to see all these dudes being vulnerable.’ We can just shake up [ideas about gender].’’

Ruibo Qian joins the cast this season as Susan, a merchant with secrets of her own. COURTESY OF NICOLA DOVE/MAX.

Basch admits the fan following surprised some of the team, “but it made a lot of sense” too. After years of television shows and movies that built up the potential of queer romance only to stop short, Basch thinks the fervor for Our Flag Means Death “says that shows in the mainstream aren’t delivering that promise or that setup, and we have. That’s really why the fans have gone wild for it.”

That promise, it’s safe to say, is kept in season two, and then some. On set that day in December, for example, there was a major romantic moment between two key characters. But we’d risk Ed Teach’s wrath if we told you any more.

Source: Vanity Fair

[5-and-a-half-acres]

I love your blog! I've been following you for years now, and I want you to know I look forward to each of your posts. They mark the change of seasons for me as much as the birds and bugs and plants outside my own window.

I have one question. Is it tough maintaining the property? Landscaping, maintenence, etc?

I am happy to hear that, thanks so much!

Only the front acre is a proper garden and I like a more natural look so weeds don't stand out too much. I enjoy being outside and doing stuff in the garden so it really doesn't feel like work.

The rest is mostly ponds/creek and trees I have planted over the past 30 years- all sorts of unusual ones. In the beginning it was a lot of work keeping the blackberries and grass down until the trees grew big enough to shade them out. I feel so lucky to have witnessed a field turn into a forest over that time span.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Lightning Bug - Chapter 18

Master list 

Warning: this chapter mentions self-harm and a depressive episode for our reader. Lots of angst. 

Word Count: 4.3k 

“Any changes?” Natasha asked her girlfriend as she walked into the kitchen, an empty bowl in her hands. 

“She ate better than yesterday,” she put the plate in the sink. “But she still hasn’t said a word.” It seemed to be the trend. The young girl stayed locked in her room since the car incident. That was 3 days ago. They feared that they were gonna have to get Helen involved because of her lack of eating but she began to eat what Wanda brought her. 

“I’m getting worried,” Kate said, playing with the spider-shaped necklace around her neck. It was a gift from Yelena when the couple first started dating. Yelena wore an arrow, similar to the one that Clint gifted Natasha. But the Black Widow was getting worried too. She even called Laura asking for advice. The mother of three gave the best advice she could, being a little out of her element since her three didn’t have powers. 

“She needs to work through this,” Natasha said. “And when she’s ready we’ll be here to catch her.” The whole tower seemed to be affected by it. But America seemed to have taken it the hardest, spending more time at the Sanctum and traveling the multiverse. The elevator opened and Maria walked out, holding a folder in her hand. “No,” Natasha found herself saying before Maria opened her mouth. The agent smiled. 

“I’m sorry but Fury asked for you and Wanda,” Natasha grabbed the folder out of her hand. It was nothing dangerous, just smooth talking with some politicians. She slammed the folder close, a little harder than she attended. 

“Have him send someone else?” Wanda took the folder from her. There was no way in hell she was leaving the tower. 

“Don’t you think I tried, Nat,” Maria opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. “We are stretched thin,” she popped open the beer and took a long sip. It was only 11:30 but Natasha saw the bags forming underneath her eyes. “I know things are tense but I don’t have a choice. 

“Sestra,” Natasha looked at Yelena. “We’ll make sure she’s okay.” There were times like this Natasha hated her job and envied Clint. She wished she had a house in the middle of nowhere with no missions or need to train. Her family was happy and safe on a few acres of land. But there was so much red in her ledger for her to stop now. 

“Fine,” she said. “We’ll do it but Fury owes me,” Maria smirked, chuckling. 

“That list keeps getting longer and longer. 

*

The world around you seems muted, muffled as if you were submerged underwater. Nothing was clear, everything sounded far off as you stared ahead. You had no energy to move from your bed. Every bone in your body ached and your head felt fuzzy. The only interaction you had was with Wanda bringing you food. The interaction was a loose way you’d describe it. Wanda did most of the talking, you weren’t even sure what she was saying. But you ate the food even though it tasted bitter so they wouldn’t worry. And you knew they were. You couldn’t pull yourself out of this pit you were in. Every Time you tried to crawl your way out you were pulled back in. It was an exhausting, endless cycle as your mind degraded you. Monster. Freak. Killer. Worthless. You believed every word. 

When your door opened you were sitting up, coloring on a piece of paper. It was the only thing that you could bring yourself to do. The music was too loud. Reading seemed too hard. And practicing Russian left your brain fried. You were expecting to see Wanda unsure of when the last time you saw the witch. But Natasha walked in with her girlfriend. “Hey dorogoy,” she said, sitting down on your bed. Your legs were crossed so she sat closer to you than expected. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Horrible. Bad. She smiled. Your throat was a little sore from disuse. Wanda chose to stand behind the Black Widow. You felt uneasy. Did they finally have enough of you? Were they here to kick you out? 

“That’s good!” Wanda said. You nodded. “Nat and I have to leave for a few days.”

“Fury is sending us on a quick assignment,” you frowned. They were leaving because of you. They didn’t want to deal with you. 

“Oh,” you said, looking back down. “How long will you be gone?” 

“2 days max,” Natasha said. You nodded. “Kate and Yelena will be here if you need anything,” you nodded again. “And we’ll be a phone call away, okay?” She added. 

“Okay,” you whispered, glancing up at them. “I’m sorry,” you looked back down. “I’m not sure where my head is.” 

“It’s okay,” Wanda assured you. “We’ll be here when it gets all sorted out.” They were about to leave but you called out to them. 

“Be safe,” you said. “Come back in one piece.” Natasha smiled. 

“Always,” the Black Widow closed your door behind them. You thought you’d be grateful for the silence, to be alone again. But it unsettled you, it scared you. Oh, how you wished you could be back in time and stop all this from happening. 

*

A shower was the first thing on your to-do list when your head felt less fuzzy. You didn’t realize how much it would help as the warm water washed over you. It made you feel human. You were walking out of your closet, dressed in fresh clothes, and drying your hair when it hit. It came out of nowhere. The feeling started in your legs, which was new. Your legs began to tingle and your feet cemented to the ground. The feeling traveled up to your stomach and chest where you felt warm. That fuzzy feeling returned in your head. Your muscles tensed up as the wave of electricity moved through your body. Every time you thought it was done it kept going and going. Finally, it stopped. Black spots appeared in front of your eyes and the metallic taste of your blood filled your mouth. You fell to the ground, unable to find the strength to keep yourself standing. A sheering pain ran through your head and the world went black. 

*

Steve was watching Bucky read. It was moments like this that he treasured. No mission. No meeting or training. No paperwork. Just quietness and the opportunity to admire the man he loved. Steve glanced at Bucky one more time before returning to his sketchbook. “Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, Miss. Y/n fell and hit her hand. I’ve already alerted Dr. Cho.” Steve never jumped to his feet so fast and ran to Natasha’s floor. The elevator would take too long. He took three stairs and heard Bucky behind him. By the time Steve got to her door, his chest was heaving and he opened her bedroom door. He saw her, laying face down on her floor. A small pool of blood was forming near her head. “FRIDAY alert Yelena and tell her to get back to the tower.” Steve bent down to pick her up but Bucky placed a head on his shoulder. 

“She doesn’t like skin-to-skin contact,” he said. Steve pulled off a blanket from her bed and carefully picked her up, being mindful of not touching her skin. 

“Miss. Belova is on her way back,” the AI said. “Should I contact Miss. Romanoff and Miss. Maximoff?” 

“Negative, FRIDAY,” Bucky said, following Steve to the elevator. He looked at his boyfriend as the doors opened. “It’s probably better if one of us tells them and not an AI.” He was right. Steve looked at the unconscious girl in his arms and prayed to whoever God was listening that she would be okay. 

*

Yelena felt her heart in her throat as she rode the elevator to med bay. They left the tower for just a few hours to try to get America out of the fuck she was in. She didn’t regret leaving because it was nice to see her friend smile again but Yelena couldn’t help but feel guilty. The doors opened and she saw Steve, Bucky, and Sam waiting in the chairs outside a room. “What happened?” Yelena asked, walking over to them with her girlfriend close behind. Steve looked up. 

“We don’t know,” he said. “Helen is still doing her assessment. All FRIDAY said was she hit her head.” 

“It could be because she hasn't been eating,” Kate said. “She just may need some food and a good night's sleep.” Yelena heard the elevator door’s open and she saw Pepper and Tony walk over. A party was happening down here. 

“What happened?” The CEO asked. 

“We were just discussing that,” Yelena said, filling in the couple on what they missed. 

“FRIDAY, can you tell us what happened?” Tony asked the AI. It took a moment for FRIDAY to respond which Yelena thought was odd. 

“It appears that Miss. Y/n has undiagnosed epilepsy,” the AI said. “This is not the first incident to occur but she asked me to not notify you when an episode happened.” 

“Epilepsy?” Steve questioned, looking at Kate and Yelena for clarification. But the Black Widow was just as lost as everyone else. Helen came out of the room, gently closing the door behind her. 

“Is she alright?” Pepper was the first to ask. “I know epilepsy that goes untreated can cause brain damage. We -” 

“Time out,” Helena said, cutting the CEO off. “Epilepsy? Where are you getting that from?” 

“FRIDAY informed us she had epilepsy,” Bucky said. “And it wasn’t the first time she had an episode.” 

“She doesn't have epilepsy and she didn’t have a seizure although her symptoms mirror it.” The doctor explained. 

“Then what happened?” Yelena questioned. Helen sighed. 

“Steve and Bucky told me of her powers. Have any of you seen her use them?” A chorus of no and headshakes was the answer the doctor received. Before the incident with Pepper’s car, Yelena believed the teen would go a lot longer without telling everyone what she could do. “She is pulling energy from around her; the beating of our hearts or the existing electricity in the room. Energy can’t be created or destroyed but it can be converted. So she uses that energy and creates electricity,” she explained. “But that energy can’t stay in her body. It needs an outlet. Similar to when you blow into a balloon. Even when the balloon is inflated you can still blow air into it. Until it pops,” Yelena connected the dots in her head. “Electricity is the same way when it needs an outlet it will make one no matter who gets hurt in the process.” 

“She’s electrifying herself.” Yelena guessed. Helen nodded. 

“From the scans we took, she’s been doing it for some time and it’s causing damage to her hippocampus,” she told the group. Yelena knew that part of the brain was related to learning and memory. “Right now her vitals are stable but she’s still unconscious. You can visit her but only 2 at a time.” The group thanked the doctor and she returned to her other duties. 

“We need to call Nat and Wanda,” Tony said. He looked at the two super soldiers. “Are you two okay with taking their spot?” They nodded. 

“Of course,” Steve said. “Will you guys keep us updated?” 

“We will,” Pepper said. “Kate and Yelena, why don’t you two stay with her until Nat and Wanda get here?” 

“I’ll call them to tell them what’s going on,” Sam added. A plan was in motion and finally, it was just Kate and Yelena standing in the hallway. Instead of going into her room, Yelena sat down in the chair Steve was sitting in. She began to play with the rings on her fingers. Each one had a different story, a different reason why she wore them on her fingers. She was so lost in thought she didn’t notice Kate kneeling in front of her, placing her hands over hers. 

“My love,” Kate whispered. Yelena looked up staring into the blue eyes of her girlfriend. “She’s going to be okay.” 

“Natasha is going to kill me,” Yelena threw her head back with a sigh. “I told her we would look after her.” 

“These things happen, Lena,” Kate sat down next to her. “And Natasha will understand that.” Yelena nodded, allowing the silence to settle between the two. When she looked at her girlfriend, the archer was in deep thought. 

“What is it?” Yelena asked. 

“Do you want to draw straws on who tells America?” The Russian smiled. 

“I’ll leave that one to you, little hawk,” Kate rolled her eyes, kissing Yelena on the cheek. 

“Fine, anything for you.” 

*

“Remind me to kill Fury,” Natasha said as they rode the elevator. She was holding onto Wanda’s hand as a lifeline. When she saw Sam’s name appear on the caller ID, she knew something was wrong. They booked it back to the tower before they were off the phone with him. Wanda chuckled. 

“You're not gonna kill him. You're just upset.” 

“And you're not?” The Black Widow questioned. 

“I am,” Wanda said. “One of us has to be level-headed and not think about murdering the Director of SWORD.” Wanda hit her hip against Natasha. The small action pulled a light laugh out of the Russian. 

“You're right. Thank you, little witch,” the laugh was much needed as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. Immediately, Natasha saw her sister, sitting alone in the hallway. Not even the sound of the elevator pulled her out of her thoughts. She gave Wanda’s hand a tight squeeze before letting go and walking over to her sister. “Sestra.” 

“Natasha,” Yelena stood up. “I’m sorry. I told you she would be okay and I couldn’t keep my promise.” 

“Hey, hey,” Natasha put her hands on Yelena’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she maneuvered Yelena back into the chair and sat down next to her. “This is not your fault okay?” Yelena nodded. 

“You are here now and that is what matters,” Wanda added. “Have you been in her room?” The blonde shook her head. 

“Cho only wants 2 people in at a time. She wants to speak with you two. I’ll go get her,” Natasha let her sister stand up and walk to find the doctor. She wasn’t ready for this. She felt like her feet were glued to the floor. But she dragged herself out of the chair and opened the door. The air left her lungs as she stared at the still form in the hospital bed. There was a nasal cannula around her face and Ekgs on her forehead. A small gauze was on the side of her head. It took another squeeze from Wanda to get her moving and sit in the empty chair. Wanda sat across from her. 

“She looks so peaceful,” the witch spoke, breaking the silence. Natasha agreed but she desperately wanted to see the striking color of her eyes to tell her everything was going to be okay. A gentle knock on the door drew her attention from the teen and Helen walked in. 

“Hi,” she said with a smile. “I’m guessing you’ve been filled in.” She stood at the foot of the bed, hands resting on the metal frame. Natasha shook her head. 

“We were just informed that she was hurt and came right away.” Helen nodded, her smile faltering slightly. Natasha listened as the doctor explained what happened. She had to admit that she was only catching every other word but she understood what occurred. Self-harm. An act she and those closest to her have gone through. 

“Can the damage be repaired?” Wanda asked. 

“I recommend introducing light exercises to her daily routine,” her eyes went to the girl. “But the most important thing is we need to stop her from continuing the behavior,” she sighed. “It’s impressive that she’s still doing okay.” 

“She’s strong,” Natasha whispered. 

“That she is,” Helen said. “Please come get me if you need anything or have any questions.” She left the couple. 

“You're right, you know,” the Black Widow looked at her girlfriend. “She’s strong so she’ll be okay.” 

“Let’s hope it’s enough.”

*

Kate found America in the kitchen making pasta. “Hey,” she said to the archer. “I figured everyone would have their hands full so I’m making dinner,” she scratched the back of her head. “I can’t promise it will be good.” Kate sat on the bar stool. 

“I’m sure it will be great,” America drained the pasta and moved the pasta back into the pot to add the sauce. 

“How is she ?” America finally asked, stirring the pasta and sauce together. 

“She’s stable. Her vitals are good but she hasn’t woken up yet,” America nodded, leaning on the counter. “She doesn’t have epilepsy like we initially thought.” America looked up suddenly. 

“What caused it?” So Kate explained it in the same way Helen told them. Somehow it was more heartbreaking as she watched her friend's face fall more and more. “Electrifying herself? I- I don’t understand. I thought she was doing better. Wasn’t she?” Her voice cracked at the end.

“She was,” Kate fully believed she was. Before the car incident, the girl now in med bay was completely different from the girl who first came to the tower. “Even though we are healing, people can regress. It’s not linear,” Kate has seen it first hand with Yelena. America nodded. “Can I ask you two things?” 

“Sure, doesn’t mean I’ll answer them,” America smirked. The archer rolled her eyes.  

“Why are you avoiding her?” The teen sighed, looking in the direction of Y/n’s room. 

“The last time I saw her I made her lose control because I wanted to fix everything,” she sighed. “But God Kate you should have seen the fear in her eyes. I don’t want to put her through that again. I can’t.” Kate understood that as she’s been in the same position as America. It was a simple mistake but Kate didn’t realize her girlfriend was stuck in a memory. She came up behind her for a hug and Yelena grabbed her wrist, flipping her over, and spraining her wrist. But the pain didn’t bother Kate; it was the fear in Yelena’s eyes that hurt more. It was in the beginning of their relationship so they were still learning about each other. Natasha had to pull Yelena out of her spiraling thoughts and got her to talk to the archer. 

“Do you like her?” Kate asked. “More than just a friend.” She added on quickly. A small smile grew on America’s face. 

“Am I that obvious?” Kate smiled, nodding her head. “Yeah, I do. There is something about her that I can’t describe. My stomach flips like I’m on a rollercoaster.”

“A little advice,” Kate said once America was done talking. “Don’t turn your back on her no matter how hard it gets,” she was listening with her full attention, feeding on every word the archer said. “Loving her will be difficult but so worth it.” 

“Speaking from experience?” America questioned. Kate heard the quiet footsteps of her girlfriend walking up behind her. 

“Yeah,” Yelena’s arm snaked around her waist and burrowed her head in the crock of her neck. “I am.” 

*

Pepper was lost in thought as she had music softly playing in the background. It was rare that the CEO let herself sit and not busy herself with Stark Industries. She couldn’t bring herself to tackle her growing to-do list. There was guilt making its home in her bones. “You're thinking very hard for someone who should be relaxing,” Tony said, handing her a mug and sitting down next to her. Pepper rested her back against his front. Immediately, he began to massage the tension out of her shoulders. “What’s got you thinking so hard?” 

“Just thinking about the past few days,” she said after a moment. Tony hummed. 

“You care about her, don’t you?” He asked. She took a sip, savoring the taste of spiked apple cider before resting it on the table. 

“Yes I do,” she said, turning to face her husband. “And I know you do too.” Tony turned her back to face forward and continued massaging. She had a big knot on her right shoulder that Tony focused on. 

“It’s her eyes,” Tony said. “Never have I seen such child-like wonder and sadness at the same time,” Pepper nodded. “I spoke with Banner and I think we can help her.” When she turned to face him, he didn’t stop her. “Cho said this happened because she’s not using her powers. I can guess she doesn't use them because she’s scared.” Pepper came to that conclusion as well. “So what if we create something where she can use her powers and do some good? It will kill2 birds with one stone, ya know? A safe and controlled way to use her powers and slowly change how she views them.” Pepper stared at him and then finally kissed him. 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” she said, picking up her drink. The CEO half expected Tony to run off to his lap to work on the new project but he stayed, lost in his thoughts and worlds away. “Now who is thinking too hard?” She teased, squeezing his leg. 

“Do you remember that dream I told you about before Strange came to us?” Of course, she did. She thought about it almost every single day. “Is it something you would want to do? You would be a great mom.” 

“Tony,” she said, slowly. She moved away from him slightly to look at him. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said. “Tell me to walk away from this,” he gestured to the tower. “And I will. I have that cabin upstate and we can raise our daughter.” 

“You can’t walk away,” she said. It was a pipe dream. She’s seen the incredibly stupid things he’s done as Iron Man in the name of saving others. 

“Why can’t I?” He questioned. Being with Tony, Pepper learned the man was 5 minutes away from a sarcastic comment. But as she stared into his eyes, it was the most serious Pepper had seen him. “Rogers can handle the team and if he doesn’t want it, Wilson isn’t a bad option. I’m serious, Pepper,” he laced his hand with hers. “Tell me to walk away and I will.” But she couldn’t tell him to walk away and have a normal life to raise their daughter. She couldn’t make that decision for him when he wasn’t just her husband and best friend. Iron Man was a beacon of hope for so many. It would be selfish of her to take him away. 

“I love you,” she said. “But I don’t think the world is ready to say goodbye to Iron Man.”

“Will it ever be?” He questioned. Pepper placed a hand on his cheek and he turned to kiss it. She drew circles against his skin. 

“I’m not sure,” she said. “But we’ll know when it is.” 

*

“Knock, knock,” Natasha looked up as the door opened and saw America, holding two bowls. “I come bearing food,” she whispered, noticing Wanda asleep in the chair. “I know Helen has a two-guest policy so I won’t be long.” Natasha took the bowls from the girl, whose eyes kept flickering to Y/n. 

“I can leave,” Natasha said, ready to give her spot up but America shook her head. 

“It’s okay. Can you just let me know when she wakes up?”

“You’ll be the first one on my list,” Natasha smiled. “Thank you for the food.” 

“Of course. Try to get some sleep too. Goodnight,” she waved, carefully closing the door behind her. It wasn’t long before the smell of food caused Wanda to wake up. 

“That smells good.” Natasha smiled, handing her the bowl. 

“America made it,” Natasha blew on the pasta before taking a bite. It was good, a little over-seasoned but she was grateful for any food. Wanda giggled. “What’s so funny?” She asked her girlfriend. 

“Nothing,” she waved her hand with the fork in it. “Have you ever seen America cook?” She was right. The most the teen had cooked was toast. “It’s just amazing how one stranger can change us.” 

“Is it a good change or a bad change?” Wanda smiled. 

“It’s good,” the witch said. Natasha looked at the teen, finding comfort in the steady rise and fall of her chest. She wondered if she was dreaming or did her mind offer her one dreamless sleep. Natasha smiled. 

“Do you ever wonder what hugging her would feel like?” Wanda nodded. 

“All the time,” she whispered. “I wonder when the last time she’s been hugged.” 

“Or if she’s been hugged at all,” Natasha mumbled, angrily twirling her pasta. It made her blood boil when she thought how unfair life has treated her. “We’ll ask her when she wakes up,” she looked at Wanda. “I think it will help her feel more like apart of this family.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s a great idea,” Natasha watched as Wanda reached into a bag on the floor and pulled out a book, she handed it to Natasha. It was the Outsiders. “She was reading it to you when you were hurt,” The Black Widow took the book and placed her bowl on her lap. “America says it’s her favorite.” 

“Is that so?” She opened the book to the first page. It was on the movies they made her watch in The Red Room, an American classic that was filled with their edited agenda. Kate and Peter made it her mission to show her and Yelena movies and TV shows that weren’t tainted by the Red Room. Natasha began to read, “When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I only had two things on my mind; Paul Newman and a ride home…”

_

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