#Compact Agreement

[reasonsforhope]

"The Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans has recently witnessed an incredible eco-renaissance following decades of damage and neglect.

Led by a local community development group, a 40-acre wetlands park has been restored to glories past with hundreds of local trees that attract over a hundred species of birds, plus joggers, picnickers, and nature lovers besides.

The story begins with Rashida Ferdinand, founder of Sankofa Community Development Corporation (CDC). Growing up in this historic part of New Orleans, where Black homeownership thrived, where Fats Domino was born, and where locals routinely went out into the wetlands to catch fish and crustaceans, she watched as it suffered from years of neglect.

Poor drainage, ruined roads, illegal trash dumping, and unmitigated damage from hurricanes slowly wasted the wetland away until it was a derelict eyesore.

In the name of restoring this wild heritage indicative of the culture in the Lower Ninth, and in order to protect her communities from flooding, Ferdinand founded the Sankofa CDC, and in 2014 entered into an agreement with the City of New Orleans for the restoration of Sankofa—a 40-acre section of neglected wetlands in the heart of the Lower Ninth.

The loss of Sankofa’s potential to dampen flooding from storms meant that over the years dozens of houses and properties were flooded and damaged beyond the ability of the inhabitants to recover. Forced out by a combination of nature’s fury and government failure, the cultural heritage of the community was receding along with the floodwaters.

Ferdinand knew that restoring natural flood barriers like Sankofa was key to protecting her community.

“Hurricane protection is a major concern in the community, but there’s a lack of trust in the infrastructure systems that are supposed to protect us,” Ferdinand told the Audubon Society. 

Today, Sankofa Wetlands Park is a sight to behold. Hiking trails snake through a smattering of ponds and creeks, where bald cypresses and water tupelo trees continue to grow and cling to the ground even during storms. Picnic benches have appeared, wheelchair-accessible trails connect sections of the park to parts of the Lower Ninth, and local businesses are seeing more visitors.

It needed a lot of work though. Thousands of invasive tallow trees had to be uprooted. 27,000 cubic meters of illegally dumped trash compacted into the dirt had to be removed. A 60-year-old canal dug by the US Army Corps of Engineers had to be disconnected, and all new native flora had to be planted by hand.

Audubon says that Ferdinand routinely can’t believe her eyes when she looks at the transformation of Sankofa into its current state.

“Seeing butterflies, birds, and other pollinators in the park is a sign of a healthy ecosystem,” she says. “All we had to do was create the right conditions.”

Slated for official completion in 2025 with an outdoor amphitheater, interpretive signage, and additional trails, Ferdinand and the CDC have their eyes set on an even larger area of wetlands to the north of Sankofa.

Along the way, Ferdinand and the CDC attracted many helping hands, and entered into many partnerships, But the catalyst for change arose from the spirit and determination of one woman in the right place at the right time, for the benefit of hundreds in this historic heart of a historic city."

-via Good News Network, September 17, 2024

[kitscutie]

snow and roses: part II (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none except the nature of the Hunger Games franchise! later on in the series there will be hints to dark!coriolanus snow and lots of angst so be prepared!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: part two is here! hope you enjoy, remember requests are open and there are more parts to come :) p.s - all of the love on part one means the world!

word count: 2.3k

find part one here!

join my taglist here!

Over the past eighteen years you couldn't picture a single day you and Coriolanus hadn't spent together. Birthdays, school days, even throughout the war, you spent time together.

Today was different. He hadn't met you this morning and you couldn't help but miss his presence. His character enveloped a room, always making it clear he was there without really having to say a word. You found it comforting, others found it threatening.

The Tributes arrived early this morning and it was something you had dreaded, very soon you would actually have to meet Wovey. Mentor her, care for her, and it riddled you with guilt knowing that it was all a challenge. Her life was a challenge to you.

Coryo's presence could've softened that burden and yet, he wasn't here. No warning no explanation he just didn't show.

"Where's Snow?" Asked Arachne as you all stood outside your classroom at the Academy, preparing for yet another lecture from Casca.

"I wouldn't know." You shrugged, secretly seething at your boyfriends disregard to tell you where he was going before he disappeared.

"Oh please. You two are practically attached at the hip." Scoffed Festus. Fixing his hair in a small compact mirror which he carried around in his bag.

"I heard he's with his songbird." Mock sang Felix. Knowing it would most likely piss you off to the high heavens.

"And where did you hear that, Felix?" You asked, tilting your head in questions, eyebrows furrowed. While Felix was a tease he was not a liar.

"Lucky's newest interview. He was in the zoo with the tributes, I mean it was almost comedic. But, I've got to say the most interesting part was when they held hands." He said. You couldn't hide the anger on your face no matter how hard you tried and it was only made worse when you spotted Sejanus' sympathetic glance from over his shoulder.

"Well, he is very motivated to win the Prize I suppose." You murmured, now embarrassed, even if they weren't aware he was your boyfriend he was supposed to be your closest ally and here he was prancing around with his new decoration.

Much to your pleasure the large wooden door swung open, everybody filing into the room and taking their assigned seats, the one next to yours empty.

His seat.

Finally, minutes later he entered looking rather sheepish. If he was ashamed you were glad, he should be.

"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules Mr Snow." Spoke Casca. Deep down you were pleased that he had broken rules, pleading in your mind that this would prevent any further ventures. "Amongst them, endangering a Capitol student."

"Who?" He asked, stopping in his tracks as though he was insulted by the accusation.

"You. I'm moving for the Game makers to disqualify you as a mentor immediately." Casca answered. Guiltily you were happy, you just hoped your face didn't show it as Coriolanus sat down next to you.

"You said that we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away." He said leaning against the banister of your seats.

"I don't believe holding their hands was in that agreement." You snarled from behind him and you immediately regretted it as he turned to you, hurt that you weren't defending him.

"Right you are Miss L/N." Casca replied.

"Holding her hand, introducing her to people. You make it look as if were one in the same as those animas." Arachne added. You didn't agree with that, they were very much the same as us but his effort to care for her wounded you internally.

"Coriolanus didn't show those people anything they didn't already know. That the tributes are human beings. Just like us. That's why nobody wants to watch the Games, because people know deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn't justify starving peoples children." Sejanus added, yet you couldn't help but feel like Coriolanus didn't truly agree, he just wanted to be let loose for his wrong doings.

"Snow fell. Down in the cage, it fell down in the cage but it landed-" Doctor Gaul appeared, frightening you and many others. She had an atmosphere similar to Coriolanus, threatening and brazen. Maybe that should've scared you more than any District Twelve girl, yet it didn't.

"On stage." Snow finished her riddle without hesitation.

"You're good at games. Maybe one day you'll be a Game maker like me." She grinned evilly. You didn't miss Coriolanus' smile when hearing this and something deep within you stirred.

"Only if the games continue at all." Casca replied.

"Oh they'll continue, with performances like young Mr Snow in that zoo. In fact I came to ask your star Mentor a question. What are the Hunger Games for?" She said confidently.

"They're to punish the Districts for their uprising. To commemorate the end of the war." Coriolanus answered thou hit felt scripted and to some extent it was. That very answer was drilled into your heads from the moment you entered the Academy.

Sejanus began to discredit the Games, calling them what they are. Cruel. Doctor Gaul didn't like that.

"Perhaps the Capitol students are ill suited to be mentoring tributes, perhaps the Games time has passed." Casca said and something about it told you he was on Sejanus' side, that he didn't agree with the very games he created.

"Dean Highbottom is wrong. My classmates too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something, maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings." Coriolanus spoke and you tugged at his shirt for him to sit down, to stop defending this inhumane act but he slapped your hand away. "I mean you saw those kids in the zoo, they just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal." You felt embarrassed by his every word. Embarrassed by his obsession with Lucy Gray and embarrassed that he believed in these games.

"Who will watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?" Asked Doctor Gaul and even to you, the answer was obvious. Everyone.

"Everyone." Answered Snow, predictable. "If they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning, people need someone to root for and against. We need them to invest. If we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets." He continued his proposal.

"You forget you're talking about real people Coriolanus, not just characters in your wider game." You said, eyes cold as he once again turned to you seeming betrayed, you no longer cared.

"Look I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena but if you give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth Prize that she can win peoples attention." He ignored you, instead once again talking about Lucy. You felt sick by his obsession, betrayed. How long had you been the one to care for him, to root for him and here he was digging a dagger in your heart.

"I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight Mr Snow." Doctor Gaul stated. "Perhaps your classmate can help you?" She smirked towards you in question.

You shook your head while keeping your eyes trained on the front of the room, you refused to be apart of his play for Lucy Gray's victory.

You sat alone at lunch, thinking. What was going on between him and that girl and why was he suddenly the Games biggest supporter. You understood the Plinth Prize meant a lot to him. That it would open doors but this was a step too far.

"Y/N, a pleasure." A voice you knew all too well said as it took the seat across from you.

"Coriolanus." You answered bluntly before taking another bite of your sandwich. He could tell something was off from the moment you used his full name, usually calling him Coryo.

"What was that little show back there, hm?" He asked, blue eyes a weapon as he glared at you. Something you had never been on the receiving end of before.

"I could ask you the same thing." You replied, putting your food down to glare back.

"It's a competition, Y/N. One which could change my life, I know you don't have to worry about winning but this means everything to me. You know that. I know the games are animalistic but they'll go on either way-." He defended though you cut him off.

"That's what you think I'm upset about?" You said, exaggerating the 'that's'.

"It's not?" He asked, now curious.

"I don't know, Coriolanus maybe I'm upset about you being obsessed with Lucy Gray. I mean, she's all you've spoken about since the Reaping, you held her hand! Risked your life for her!" You exclaimed in angry, drawing attention to your table.

"Oh what, so your jealous?" He smirked, clearly amused by your outrage.

"Jealous does little to describe what I am feeling, Snow. This is another level. When will you realise that that girl is using you, just as you are using her. Nothing more nothing less. I however am still here, I have been there for years, for you!" You shouted once more and he grew agitated as the room stared, grabbing your wrist with unnecessary aggression to pull your face down to this.

"Don't make a scene Y/N. You're acting like a little girl." He gritted out through his teeth.

"Fuck you, Coriolanus Snow." You replied equally quiet and with menace laced in your words. You saw his face change, as if the anger once there was replaced by a mask of sympathy. It felt ingenuine.

"Come on, Y/N. You know I love you right? I have for how long now, years." He said with kind eyes.

"Don't kid yourself." You scoffed. Though his face stayed the same his grip on your wrist tightened, leaving pink indentations.

"I love you, Y/N. Okay? Not Lucy Gray. She's my tribute just like you said, nothing more nothing less." He once again reassured, never giving up his hold.

Finally the fire in your heart gave out to him and his stupid Snow charm. It never failed to make you swoon and hearing those three words, ones you gave to each other not very often, you just wished to be in his arms.

"Okay." You retreated.

"Okay and?" He asked.

"I love you too." You answered, relieved when he let your wrist go, you were quick to move it below the table, scared to see what he had done to your wrist.

"Good. Now come on, I'm going to give some food to Lucy Gray, strengthen her, I assume you would like to meet Wovey." He said, getting up from his chair. You didn't want to meet Wovey, not really, scared to look her in the eyes. You did however want to meet his pretty little Songbird.

You walked together, hand in hand towards the zoo. He was back to his caring self after the flash of rage you previously saw. It wasn't the first time that side of him had flashed and you knew it wouldn't be the last but moments like these made it all worth it.

Your relationship was secret, but you felt no need to hide it anymore, now determined to show he was yours. Show everyone.

At first you stuck by his side, even when he spoke to Lucy Gray and you felt yourself flinch as she rushed over.

"That for us?" She asked as he held food out to her. Watching as she gave some to her fellow District Twelve Tribute, Jessup. "And who might this be?" She asked, eyeing up your joint hands.

"Wovey's mentor." He answered, without a second thought. Though when you squeezed his hand, his answer changed. "My girlfriend, I mean. Y/N L/N."

"Well Miss L/N, you sure do have the cream of the crop here with Mr Snow. He's a lovely young man." She smiled at you, you couldn't tell if it was your own paranoia telling you it was ingenuine or if she really didn't feel happy for you.

"Oh, and don't I know it." You smiled back. "You've equally had such luck I must say. He's a fine mentor." You added, patting his chest as you boosted his ego.

"Well, thank you." He said, kissing your forehead. "But uh, could you give me and Lucy Gray a moment, Mentor to Tribute?" He asked and that once burnt out flame of jealousy flickered within you as you left to speak to Wovey. You watched as they now leant against the fence to talk, lips inches away, crouched together.

Wovey was a sweet young girl, grateful as you gave her food and she shared it with Bobbin who she had been sat with, you didn't mind her sharing seeing as some Mentors has made little effort to offer any help.

You patted her shoulder through the fence, promising your support to help her reach the end of the games though it seemed she didn't care about winning and you admired her bravery.

A scream cut said conversation short as you looked to see Arachne's neck being stabbed with a smashed glass bottle. Play stupid games win stupid prizes.

You and Coriolanus both rushed over. Even if she was mean and bitchy she was your friend for the last five years and you had grown fond of the girl.

You whispered reassurances as she cried, placing pressure on her neck until you were literally dragged off of her by Peacekeepers, watching as her final breath left her body.

"No, no, no." You whispered with glassy eyes as her body became smaller and smaller on the ground - until it was too far into the distance to see.

It was clear the games had officially begun, and the tributes were winning.

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[gghostwriter]

Can I request a Lil fluff with the team (mainly Spence) where the reader had a massive potty mouth (like they're from a country that isn't so harsh about swearing, England, Australia, New Zealand?) But she's all very professional when need be but when talking with the team she's cursing up a storm (maybe the terms "good cunt" and "shit cunt" turn up?

Good cunt means someones great, amazing

Shit cunt meaning well someone's bad) and Spence gets anxious but she reassures him that she's not swearing AT him but more making sure her words hit to where they need to go?

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader Trope: Friends who Flirt (?) ; Fluff just fluff! w.c: 0.9k Warning: CM violence; citizenship inaccuracies idk A/N: Apologies again that this took a while! I am not from Australia so I had to search up some more slangs to use for this. I hope I did it justice and I had fun writing this, Anon! Thank you for requesting 💗 Main masterlist

Down Under. // Spencer Reid

It wasn’t your fault the Americans didn’t have ‘swearing’ programmed in their DNA. It was although your fault why you ended up in the FBI—receiving looks and eyebrow raises from the team—rather than in a bustling city of your homegrown country in the southern hemisphere, Australia. 

But you really couldn’t blame yourself now could you? The idea of giving up your citizenship to be a part of the illustrious BAU was too good to pass up. So you packed your bags, entered the FBI Academy, and passed with flying colors—nearing perfect that David Rossi pulled ranks just to get you in the team even with how green you still were. 

“So what do we have?” you asked, rounding into the conference room with Spencer in tow. 

“Sadly, my precious koala, we have murder,” Penelope answered with the remote in her hand, flashing the photographs of numerous mutilated bodies. “Jacksonville, Florida reported a series of killings over the past month and it’s not looking pretty. Each victim had been dumped in alley ways and all missing a toe.” 

JJ slightly reeled back. “Well, that’s a new type of trophy.” 

“It’s not very common,” Spencer backed up. “Jerome Brudos, ‘the Shoe Fetish Slayer’ is the only known serial killer that kept a foot trophy from his first victim. He was only named as such because of his disturbing foot fetish and collection of women’s shoe catalogs that he considered as pornographic material.” 

“Ah a shit cunt,” you remarked, making Spencer shift on his seat to look at you with inquiry. 

“Y/N,” Emily warned. “Alright, wheels up in thirty.” 

———

The case file was too thin for the team’s liking. How was it that a serial killer with five, possibly six, victims under his belt only had a couple of pages on it and with incomplete identifications and no missing or initial reports done. 

“Emily, is this it?” Luke waved the slim folder up in the air. “I mean, I know the victims were all homeless but damn. Did they even walk and ask around?” 

She sighed. “I called it in and the only reason we were invited is due to the upcoming elections.” 

“Bogan coppers are they? Why doesn’t that surprise me at the least,” you scoffed

“Matt and Luke, you’ll visit the last location of the body—” Emily instructed before turning to the rest of the team. “JJ, coordinate with the media to get them to cooperate. Y/N and Reid, talk to the forensics. Rossi and I will settle base at the station.” 

A series of hums and agreements echoed throughout the compact jet before settling into a lull. 

Spencer shifted on his seat, turning to face you who was busy shifting through the papers. “Hey, in the office you—“ he cleared his throat. “said a phrase, what did it mean?” 

You turned slightly, noting his nervous gaze. “You mean ‘shit cunt’?” 

He nodded. 

“It means someone bad, low life, scum of the earth—wait, you don’t think I meant you, right?” 

“What—no, no!” He sighed, having spied your raised eyebrow. “Well, maybe? I didn’t know what it meant so I don’t know.” 

You giggled. “Spence, if I was going to describe you it would be—pardon my French, good cunt.” 

“For someone so tiny, you sure do curse a lot,” Rossi interjected. 

“What can I say, us from down under just have colorful vocabulary,” you shrugged. 

———

The team was finally back in home base after five days in the sweltering heat of Florida and you couldn’t feel any more tired than this moment as you waited for your sister to come pick you up. Granted you could taken the last train ride home but you just didn’t trust yourself to not miss your stop plus she volunteered so you hastily agreed—never one to say no. 

“I think I’ll wait until your sister arrives for you,” Spencer volunteered, taking your go bag out of your hands. 

“I am an FBI agent, Dr. Reid,” you teased. “Perfectly capable of taking care of myself”

“And I don’t disagree! I’ve seen you take down Luke in training and shoot multiple unsubs but you look dead to your feet.” 

You blushed, grateful that the night made it less obvious. “So are you my knight in shining armor then?” 

He cleared his throat, holding on to your gaze. “I could be.” 

You sucked in a breath. 

The temperature between you suddenly felt hot. Did that mean what you think it meant? Did that mean he liked you too? You opened your mouth to ask but was interrupted by a car halting to a stop in front of you. 

It was your sister, what rotten timing.

“Oh please, stop caking and get in before I get ticketed or better yet make it worth it and just pash already!” She shouted through the rolled down window. 

“Caking? Pash?” Spencer repeated. 

“Well—I have to go. Thanks for keeping me safe, Spence.” 

He stops you on your tracks, holding to your hand. “Wait what do those two words mean?” 

You laughed, squeezing his hand in return, and felt a sudden burst of confidence. “Come find me when you figure it out.” 

With a wink, you left Spencer dumbfounded and dazed on the sidewalk.

Some notes: Bogan - an uncouth or unsophisticated person Coppers - policemen Caking - flirting Pash - passionate kiss

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[boreal-sea]

Who is Tim Walz?

Kamala Harris has apparently picked Tim Walz as her running mate. He seems good, based on his record. He's also responsible for the widely spreading "Republicans are weird" meme I've seen quite a lot of.

He has a good record. Just like I did for Kamala Harris in a post that has become quite popular, I will do a simple review of things I like from Tim Walz' political history. Again, as with Harris, this is just from his Wikipedia page. Let's go!

House of Representatives

Opposed increasing troop numbers in Iraq

Co-sponsored a bill to raise Minnesota's minimum wage

Voted for stem cell research

Voted to allow Medicare to negotiate pharmaceutical prices

Voted against the act to Prohibit Federally Funded Abortion Services

Voted to advance the ACA

Has received a 100% rating from many progressive organizations like Planned Parenthood and the ACLU

Was a member of several caucuses, including the LGBT Equality Caucus

Governor of Minnesota

Signed into law police reforms after the murder of George Floyd

Had Minnesota join the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact, meaning that all of the state's electors will vote for whichever candidate wins the popular vote nation-wide.

Under his governance, Minnesota passed laws for requiring paid leave, banning non-compete agreements, cannabis legalization, abortion rights, universal free school meals,

Political stances

Pro cannabis

Against bailout bills that loan taxpayer money to large banks and auto manufacturers

Was a former teacher for many years, and is very pro-education and supporting public schools. He is against merit pay for teachers (this is a good thing), and supports lowering tuition costs

Used to be pro-gun, but after Parkland he changed his mind, and as Governor he signed a bill mandating universal background checks

Pro-LGBT - has voted for LGBT rights many times, including as Governor, where he signed bills banning conversion therapy and protecting gender-affirming care

Supports veterans rights and support

Supports abortion rights and women's rights

I am going to copy-paste the entire section for his views on the Israel-Hamas war, because I don't want people claiming I am taking anything out of context. Overall, he has views that echo my own in many ways:

Walz condemned Hamas's October 7 attacks in Israel and ordered flags to be lowered to half mast in the following days. After the 2024 Minnesota Democratic presidential primary, in which 19% of voters cast "uncommitted" ballots, Walz took a sympathetic view toward those doing so to protest President Biden's handling of the war in Gaza, calling them "civically engaged". Of the protests against U.S. funding of the war in Gaza, Walz said: "This issue is a humanitarian crisis. They have every right to be heard... These folks are asking for a change in course, they're asking for more pressure to be put on… You can hold competing things: that Israel has the right to defend itself, and the atrocities of October 7 are unacceptable, but Palestinian civilians being caught in this… has got to end." Walz also said he supports a ceasefire in Gaza.[100]

[wachinyeya]

Birds Sing Anew After Residents of New Orleans Ninth Ward Restore 40-Acre Wetland to Historic Glory https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/birds-sing-anew-from-within-40-acre-wetland-restored-by-residents-of-n-orleans-historic-lower-ninth/

The Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans has recently witnessed an incredible eco-renaissance following decades of damage and neglect.

Led by a local community development group, a 40-acre wetlands park has been restored to glories past with hundreds of local trees that attract over a hundred species of birds, plus joggers, picnickers, and nature lovers besides.

The story begins with Rashida Ferdinand, founder of Sankofa Community Development Corporation (CDC). Growing up in this historic part of New Orleans, where Black homeownership thrived, where Fats Domino was born, and where locals routinely went out into the wetlands to catch fish and crustaceans, she watched as it suffered from years of neglect.

Poor drainage, ruined roads, illegal trash dumping, and unmitigated damage from hurricanes slowly wasted the wetland away until it was a derelict eyesore.

In the name of restoring this wild heritage indicative of the culture in the Lower Ninth, and in order to protect her communities from flooding, Ferdinand founded the Sankofa CDC, and in 2014 entered into an agreement with the City of New Orleans for the restoration of Sankofa—a 40-acre section of neglected wetlands in the heart of the Lower Ninth.

The loss of Sankofa’s potential to dampen flooding from storms meant that over the years dozens of houses and properties were flooded and damaged beyond the ability of the inhabitants to recover. Forced out by a combination of nature’s fury and government failure, the cultural heritage of the community was receding along with the floodwaters.

Ferdinand knew that restoring natural flood barriers like Sankofa was key to protecting her community.

“Hurricane protection is a major concern in the community, but there’s a lack of trust in the infrastructure systems that are supposed to protect us,” Ferdinand told the Audubon Society.

Today, Sankofa Wetlands Park is a sight to behold. Hiking trails snake through a smattering of ponds and creeks, where bald cypresses and water tupelo trees continue to grow and cling to the ground even during storms. Picnic benches have appeared, wheelchair-accessible trails connect sections of the park to parts of the Lower Ninth, and local businesses are seeing more visitors.

Visiting birders have recorded sightings of over 100 species of songbirds, ducks, near-shore waders of all kinds, egrets, and herons, and the park also acts as a home and refuge for otters, beavers, and a variety of amphibians and reptiles.

It needed a lot of work though. Thousands of invasive tallow trees had to be uprooted. 27,000 cubic meters of illegally dumped trash compacted into the dirt had to be removed. A 60-year-old canal dug by the US Army Corps of Engineers had to be disconnected, and all new native flora had to be planted by hand.

Audubon says that Ferdinand routinely can’t believe her eyes when she looks at the transformation of Sankofa into its current state.

“Seeing butterflies, birds, and other pollinators in the park is a sign of a healthy ecosystem,” she says. “All we had to do was create the right conditions.”

Slated for official completion in 2025 with an outdoor amphitheater, interpretive signage, and additional trails, Ferdinand and the CDC have their eyes set on an even larger area of wetlands to the north of Sankofa.

Along the way, Ferdinand and the CDC attracted many helping hands, and entered into many partnerships, But the catalyst for change arose from the spirit and determination of one woman in the right place at the right time, for the benefit of hundreds in this historic heart of a historic city.

[unholyhelbig]

any chance for a kate x reader angst?

Title: Firecrest (Part 1/???)

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4075

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual activities, fire, mentions of childhood abandonment, horrible grammar (I don't proofread lol), and things I'm sure I'm forgetting.

[A/n: how about enemies to lovers angst? How about Enemies to lovers with a little fake dating sprinkled in there? Let me know if this is something you all would like to see continued!]

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Your mother had the in-depth beauty of a street dog. Her features were angular, yet soft and welcoming. People were often tempted to reach and run their fingers through her fur. But she tended to gently correct. She had the perfect demeanor for a government spy. However, you had always known her as a brilliant biochemist. Alluring in her brilliance.

The soft lights of the city shaded her face in the back of the taxi. The air had warmed significantly, but the low hum of the air conditioner made you pull your suit jacket close to your breast. The maroon had felt like too much at first. But the impressed nod from the woman next to you was enough to ebb away any doubts.

Your mother popped open her compact and swiped her finger against the corner of her mouth, taking away the smudged gloss that wasn’t noticeable in comparison to her presence. There was not much you feared in this world, but her wrath. Her annoyance. Her disappointment. None of which she flashed often.

“Remember what we talked about, y/n.”

“Of course. Would you like me to repeat it?”

She snapped the compact and leveled you with amusement. Her eyebrow lifted, the start of a smile at the corner of her lip. She couldn’t be serious. You made eye contact with the taxi driver in the mirror. He showed the same amusement that your mother did, yet somehow, hers stung more.

A groan escaped you, but bled into the mantra that was drilled into you for the past two weeks. “I will be the perfect lady who is grateful for the success of Lance and his political circuit.”

“And?”

“I will not start anything I can’t finish with Katherine Elizabeth Bishop, And I’m an adult perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“That wasn’t part of it.” Your mother corrected softly. Her hands were suddenly on you, smoothing down the lapel of your suit. “But It’ll do. Mostly, because we’re here.”

Eleanor Bishop often held her galas in the historic buildings of downtown Manhattan. There were small pamphlets lingering by the extensive hand-carved doors. They’d detail the rich family that had built it from the ground up. The architecture was always admittedly beautiful, and Eleanor had a subtle, expensive taste.

This venue was no different; stretching hallways and men in suits that mirrored yours in a tasteful black. Your mother never stepped ahead of you, instead holding a hand out and helping you from the back of the taxi. You’d left a generous tip, careful not to shove your hands into your pockets.

“This used to be a museum for fine arts and culture. The last I heard; the city was going to tear it down but made it a historical site. They use it for banquets now, I suppose.”

“Oh? You’ve read the informational booklet, then?”

She jabbed her elbow into your ribs and mocked a scowl. “No. I robbed it. How do you think we paid for your college tuition, kiddo?”

That was an exaggeration. You were 90% sure- maybe 75%. Bobbi Morse was a force to be reckoned with, and that was something you had learned from a young age. She’d let you sit on the counter of her lab while she worked, and you’d watch her with absolute awe.

Your mother had taught you, without fail, a variety of fighting skills. Starting with Aikido and ending with Taekwondo. She was a master at her craft, both in the field and in her lab and had worked with you since you could walk to train you in the same.

“Mm,” You hummed your response, “Which priceless painting did you take?”

“It was a vase, smart-ass.”

You pulled in a breath to retort before effectively being rendered silent by the performance hall. Eleanor Bishop had gone all out for the benefits that she backed. This was a vast space that was adorned in white sheer and glittering lights. A slideshow of the sponsored bird sanctuary flashed on the televisions scattered throughout the space.

There was a band on the stage, string instruments that you could feel in the center of your chest. The low notes shuddered through you as you took in the crowd. There were few that you actually recognized, usually hazed in expensive alcohol and lingering by the food, or some form of fresh air.

“It’s ironic that it’s about birds, right?”

She leveled you with an unimpressed look and squeezed your shoulder fondly. It didn’t take long for Lance to make his way over to the both of you. His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his freshly-shaved face. He gave you a small wave, gently exiting the conversation he was having with a congressman, a millionaire, or an architect that was just the right amount of desperate.

Lance Hunter had stolen your mothers heart when you were ten years old. You always assumed it was the accent, but the more you got to know him, the more you understood his charms. Lance had never forced things with you, had never claimed to be your father.

There were quiet moments when he’d join you on the wrap-around porch of your family home and just sit. The two of you would watch the way the sun dipped behind the horizon, sipping on syrupy cans of soft drink. Eventually, you talked to him, and he listened with diligence.

“My girls,” he said, placing a chaste kiss against your forehead before sidling up next to Bobbi. They had effortlessly matched in a deep and royal blue that contrasted the ignited red of your own suit. You were the perfect epitome of a political family.

Eleanor Bishop had given you a brief nod of the head, signifying your presence. It was a silent warning told through blackened eyes: Behave.

Her diligent attention was enough to split your family up. You preferred to linger away from the stuffy socialites. Bobbi and Lance were required to mingle. You plucked a flute of bubbling champagne from a passing tray and moved towards one of the elegant support beams decorated with what you now learned, was real foliage.

The floral scent tickled the back of your throat, so you took a generous swallow and let the alcohol warm your stomach diligently. There had to be something interesting around here, away from the rest of the party. A plague or two that would further explain the venue.

A burst of forced laughter greeted your parents as they sidled up next to Jack and Eleanor. Lance had produced some campaign buttons, which the group took without hesitation. You had to admit, he was loveable and politician-worthy.

“Look at us, we match.”

You swallowed back a groan, not bothering to look over. A small noise still escaped you, and the grumble conveyed your exact disposition towards Kate Bishop. Disgust. Annoyance. The slightest bit of attraction. She overwhelmed your senses with her crisp, winter scent.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you glanced over at her. She was in red too, incredibly vibrant against her soft expanses of exposed skin. The dress had a dipping neckline, revealing the freckles that created constellations against her collarbone. She beamed with irritation. You’d never admit that she was captivating.

“I thought you were given explicit instructions to leave me be.” You said between gritted teeth.

She hummed and grasped the drink from your hand. Kate was calculated in her movements, wrapping her lips around the smudge of lipstick that you’d already created on the rim of the glass. She didn’t break eye contact, those slate orbs boring into you.

“We both know you’re the most interesting thing at these parties.”

“I’m not falling for your… charms, Kate Bishop. Your mother may have bought you out of our consequences last time. But, I have more at stake.”

She scoffed and set the now empty glass down on the nearest table. You knew damn well that Kate wasn’t absolved of accountability after your run-in a few months back. She held herself differently now, and it was a minute expression of her posture that caught your attention.

There was a small split at the corner of her lip, and a healing bruise just at her hairline. She’d attempted to use makeup to cover the abrasions, but you had a trained eye. You were your mother’s daughter. These were defensive wounds. And for just a moment, you worried that the Bishop’s had a heavier hand than you’d anticipated.

But then, Kate’s muscles flexed and her head lilted to the side, dark curls splaying over her shoulders. She had grown stronger. It wasn’t noticeable, or at least, it shouldn’t’ have been. But you knew every inch of her body and despite your forced separation, she’d grown steady of herself.

“Why should I be punished, when you’re the one who set the curtains ablaze.”

You leaned close enough to feel her body heat. To her credit, she didn’t step back. A ghost of a smirk was on her lips. You snarled your words. “And who’s fault was that?”

“I don’t see how I was supposed to know you’d get trigger happy with your powers when I went down on you.” She gave you a cocky pout. “Is that a new thing, or have you never been able to handle yourself in moments of pleasure?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from grasping at the strap on her dress, pulling her closer to you out of a burst of anger. The phantom look of confidence spread into a full-blown grin. You were exasperated, the familiar heat burning just under your skin.

It was true, you’d lost control for just a moment, with Kate Bishops head between your legs, one hand buried deep in her mess of tangled hair. As an orgasm washed over you, thighs shaking, your other hand had drifted too close to the drapes and had caught them ablaze.

Despite the both of you being adults, you were separated within an instant. Dragged embarrassingly away by your respective parental units after the fire was put out. The last you’d seen of her was reflected with the flashing red lights of a rumbling fire engine.

Kate had a devilish look in her eyes. “Harder, baby.”

“Ladies,”

It was a resolute sound that had you pulling apart as if she was a toxic entity. In your book, she was. Both hands landed in your pockets and the two of you looked sheepishly at Eleanor. She’d been keeping an eye on you, you were sure. And had made a direct line to you the second Kate had given you that salacious look.

“Good evening, Mrs. Bishop. It’s a pleasure to see you.”

Kate coughed out something that sounded like ‘Kiss ass’ and covered it up with a doe-eyed look of innocence. She may not have been afraid of her mother, but you were terrified. Bobbi had a soft hand. It commanded you like a weapon, and you were happy to do what you were told.

Your own punishment had consisted of heavier training. Both mentally and physically to perfect control that you’d had mastered years ago when you were nothing but a girl with streaks of tears dripping from your chin. The fire had been too strong then, overwhelming and horrible.

“Good evening, Miss Morse, I trust you’ve found a way to entertain yourself during the benefit that isn’t antagonizing my daughter.” Before you could answer, she turned her attention to Kate. “And you. I specifically allowed you to bring a guest in attempts to keep you away from Bobbi’s little arsonist.”

She had been under the full impression that you’d taken a zippo to the hanging drapes. It was the white-hot flames that leaked from your own fingers that had done the damage. Kate was thankfully tight-lipped about the fact, and you let the socialite think whatever she wanted. She hadn’t pressed charges.

Kate pulled her shoulders back, almost looking offended at the name you were tagged with. Almost. “Clint got stopped at the front for an autograph, mom. I’m just biding my time.”

“Bide it somewhere else. We’ve talked about this.”

Eleanor gave you a tight-lipped smile that had noticeably softened compared to the venomous expression she held for Kate. A light squeeze was delivered to your arm. It had always scared you how quick she could switch like that. Her shoulders pulled back as she wandered back over to her group.

Lance lifted his chin in your direction. Silently asking if everything was okay, and it was. His quiet reassurance brought the heat licking at your stomach to a bubbling halt. Why you cared more about Eleanors disposition towards Kate, then her acidity directed at you, was beyond something you were willing to confront.

“Who’s Clint?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“Can we have a normal conversation, please. Is it so shocking that I’d take interest in your friends?”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Yes. If you must know, he’s not a friend. He’s a mentor. He’s, my partner.”

Both of your eyebrows lifted. Partner in what? It wasn’t something you would audibly voice, save you show any concern past the normal amount that you usually had for Kate. The tautness of her muscles, and the superficial injuries made that discomfort return to the pit of your stomach.

Kate was an archer. You knew such from the trophies that littered her dresser the one time you’d been privy to her room. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid much attention. You were backed against her door and her teeth were scraping against your pulse point. But the little gold figures and the child-sized bow on the wall was enough to of a giveaway.

You only knew one archer, and you knew him distantly; from photos that your mother had blacked out with a sharpie. She’d later told you that she regretted the fact because the memories of the three of you would always remain.

The taste of bile filled your throat and Kate lilted her head to the side, like a golden retriever that had heard a piercing noise. There was a surprising amount of concern in her voice. “You okay? You’re looking a little green.”

“Hm? Yeah. Totally. The champagne is just sitting weird.”

A frown had found its way onto your face, and you directed your attention back to the crowd. It seemed that Eleanor was satisfied enough with the two of you lingering in silence. You were trained to know where the exits were in any venue. Kate’s stare shockingly darted in the same pattern as your own.

People had trickled in until the floor was bustling with conversation. You let your shoulders relax in the slightest bit, swallowing back the acrid taste in your mouth. Eleanor had lost her viewpoint of you and her daughter, and you weren’t much in the mood for fighting her on pure proximity.

“There you are, god, I didn’t know this many people cared about birds.”

This time, you couldn’t stop your narrowed eyes from flashing to the intrusion. Whatever distracted Kate was enough to be deemed a savior in your book. But the voice was familiar, painfully so. It was as if your body reacted by busting out in goosebumps, chills rushing down your spine.

Now, you wanted your mother to be able to see you. You were a strong, and capable adult that knew at least six different ways to kill a person without a weapon. You’d gone on missions with your mother, with your Aunt Daisy, too. A simple man in a simpler suit should not make your knees weak.

Yet- here he was. In a charcoal black ensemble with a pocket square that was a flash of purple. It was a color you’d grown to despise. It was an eyesore, as was the man that stood at a height taller than Kate, but just a few inches.

You’d found a singular picture of him that wasn’t defaced in your mother’s nightstand. A polaroid of the three of you on the beach. The sun had turned your cheeks a flushed pink. He had you in his arms and beamed at the camera. Eyes matching the blue of the ocean.

They were the same now, the same vibrancy that you’d thought about. He looked other, worn from parenthood and the effects of time. Of course, you’d seen him on television, but Bobbi had always been quick to flick it off, only lingering during the Sokovia accords.

His mouth fell open in disbelief, but you were careful to keep your jaw stock still. You weren’t going to give Clint Barton the satisfaction of rattling you. Not here, not if he ever decided to show up when you had a family of your own. Not on your deathbed. He couldn’t invoke that from you.

Kate had learned to pick up on body language, and she had learned fast. Her stare shifted between both you, and Clint. She had the right amount of perception to keep her mouth shut, even taking half an inch step back. She was in a position to hold the two of you apart, if need be.

“Holy shit,” He breathed out, “Sparky.”

“Don’t call me Sparky.”

You were taken aback by your own ability to produce words. They were pinched and had dropped down an octave to true anger. Not the type that Kate Bishop was used to. Sure, you had aggravation directed towards her, but nothing short of teasing.

Clint took a slight step towards you, and you took a large one back, nearly bumping into the support beam wrapped with vines and vibrant flowers. Your hand reached out to grab onto it for support, but Kate’s fingers wrapped gently around your wrist. Right. Yes. That would be the safe bet.

You needed to find Bobbi.

Chances were, Clint hadn’t seen her with the growing attendance. You could slip out through the large storm doors that were a few feet behind you. At least then, you could burn scorch marks into the grass and not into this historical building.

“What is happening?” Kate said, refusing to remove her hand from your wrist. You didn’t wrench it away, either. It was a force, a grounding factor. You refused to let the fire move past your fingertips in fear that it would burn her. “Clint?”

“She uh… She’s…”

The words died in his throat. You couldn’t’ stand looking at him, pale as ice and wringing his hands nervously. He couldn’t hold still, but you were like a stone. Almost as if he would vanish the second you averted your stare.

“I’m his daughter.”

Kate’s hand did move from your wrist and to your hand, almost out of instinct. Your relationship, or lack-there-of, had never required this kind of closeness. But She was hanging on tightly, nails digging into your skin. The slight sting brought you back.

Clint croaked “How’s your mother?”

Kate winced and you felt the spring in your spine loosen. He was more nervous than you were and that gave you an advantage. “You can ask her yourself. She and Lance are mingling.”

“Lance is here?”

“Of course.”

He was running for congressman. It would damage his campaign if he hadn’t shown up. The gossip blogs that followed the lives of New Yorks Elite had picked up on the rift between you and Kate. There were a few grainy photos of the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, wrapped in foil blankets that made you look like Baked potatoes. There was soot on her chin, and you had wiped the darkness away with your thumb. Of course, that had been the moment they caught and wrote about, and plastered all over the internet.

Clint worked his jaw and cupped the back of his neck with a tepid smile. It wavered incessantly. He was boyish in his charm and that would always be the case, no matter how old he got. You knew he had a family now. A real family that didn’t’ consist of a secret agent and their match-happy daughter.

You gave Kate a squeeze with your free hand, signaling that you were fine. The last thing you wanted to appear was weak. She seemed to get the message loud and clear, wrenching her touch away with a nervous clearing of her throat.

“I’m sorry… Can we back up for a second?”  

Clint had a dejected look in his eyes that almost made you feel a twinge of guilt. Almost. Your own ego often got in the way of things, and this was one of them. There was a flood of emotions between both of the archers, a silent pleading to hear him out.

“You and Mrs. Morse dated?”

“They were married.” You snatched another glass of campaign, this one all for yourself. You swallowed the acrid drink and let the bubbles assault your throat. “When did the divorce finalize, again?

“Y/n”

“No, I was never really privy to the details myself.”

“We shouldn’t do this here.”

You finished off the rest of the drink, a certain amount of your defenses lower. You felt warm, but not warm enough to do something stupid. He was right. You shouldn’t do this here and if you had your way, you wouldn’t’ do it anywhere. You were perfectly content to let this man slip back into oblivion and train the Bishop heiress that you had a habit of bedding.

Clint seemed to let out a sigh of relief when you nodded in agreement. He scrutinized you both, the rush of initial shock ebbing away like a melting lake. Chunks of ice broke off and gave way to the familiarity and closeness the two of you held. It was relaxed, despite the rivalry that landed you here in the first place.

“No,” he drawled out, “No, no, no. Kate, you didn’t’.”

The tips of her ears were red enough to match your suit and the color that painted her own lips. She hid her face in her hands with a groan. But you wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her against your side.

“Does that bother you, old man?”

It clearly did. Kate leveled you with a delicious glare that was unmatched but didn’t’ move from your hold. Was she letting you have this? You weren’t entirely sure. He was whipping his head back and fourth with enough force to break his own neck. It was making you dizzy, but giddy all the same.

Your moment of joy at his dismay was short lived. You caught the sharp scent of your mothers perfume. She’d cut through the crowd and furrowed her brow at your closeness to Kate. It took her a few moments to realize that Clint was here. To realize that he was the man that had spurred your act of rebellion in doing the exact opposite of what she’d requested at the start of the night.

Her cool eyes took him in just as yours had. Kate was still next to you, swallowing a dryness in her throat that you could nearly hear. Bobbi didn’t attempt to separate you as Eleanor had. Instead, she gave you a quiet stare. “Darling, I think it’s time we go. There’s a situation we have to attend to.”

“Of course. It’s been a pleasure.”

It hadn’t been, but you shocked yourself and Kate by leaning in and pressing a kiss just behind her ear, still blazing with blush. She froze but gave you the slightest bit of nod. Clint opened and closed his mouth like a surfaced fish, but kept quiet.

Your mother walked with a purpose, her shoulders pulled back and an elegance to her sway. You didn’t look back, keeping time with her as she weaved through the crowd and towards the lobby that was ten degrees cooler and much, much more welcoming.

“Is there actually a situation, or is this your attempt at a rescue?”

She ignored your question, stopping and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a soft look in her eyes that made your stomach squirm. “Are you okay, sweetie? I had no idea that he’d be here. I never would have made you come.”

“I’m fine, mom.” She didn’t seem convinced, so you added “Really.”

Eventually, Bobbi relented with a shaky sigh and cupped your cheek in a comforting manner. “Good. Okay. Good. Because we do have a situation.”

[undertheorangetree]

The Last of the Dragons

Chapter Five- The Agreement

Summary- Even days have culminated to this moment.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Incest. Pregnancy (we all knew this was coming). Treason. Mention of murder/poisoning. OOC Aemond cuz he’s experiencing joy. Titty sucking. Soft smut.

Author’s Note- and that’s that on that! I genuinely cannot believe how well received this was, I honestly thought I was gonna be writing this entirely for me and didn’t think people would respond to it the way they did. I’m so so glad you all loved it and hopefully that love continues with the final chapter. Full chapter linked below🥰

Morning lets out a curious sound as she follows the reflection of the compact. Her head tilts, the scratch of her claws echoing through the room as she turns them in before she's pouncing on the sunspot, attempting to trap it underfoot. Baela laughs as she shifts her hand, sending the light further into the room, Morning skittering across the flagstones in order to chase it and pulling a laugh from her as well.

Rhaena does not share in their glee, letting out a heavy sigh as she makes her way across the room. "You're so mean to her, you shouldn't tease."

"We're playing," Baela defends, but Rhaena picks Morning up all the same, the young dragon settling into her arms almost immediately. She curls into the warmth of Rhaena's chest, stretching out long where she is cradled, tail falling limp over her arm.

"You'll be lucky if she doesn't bite you," she laughs, making her way over to Rhaena and running her fingers across the pink scales on Morning’s snout.

The little dragon makes a purring noise, pushing up against her fingers and she can't contain her smile. She had never seen Silverwing as a hatchling, claiming her on Dragonstone soon after her family arrived, but she can't deny how sweet Morning is, more akin to a cat than a dragon. Vermax had never been that way, Arrax kinder but capable of the same prickly nature. Tyraxes and Stormcloud seemed closer to Morning than the latter two were but none seemed sweeter than her. Though sweet as she may be, she is still a dragon, capable of violence at any given moment. Particularly if Baela continued to goad her.

Baela looks at her in mock offense, closing the compact pointedly before making her way toward them. "She would never. Far too sweet for such cruelty, aren't you, my love?"

She puts her face far too close to Morning's and though she braces herself to watch her sister lose a chunk of her nose, Baela pulls away before anything can happen, simply rubbing the tip of her nose against Morning’s. There is a degree of longing in her eyes as she backs away and immediately she knows Baela is missing Moondancer. Their bond had been special and the loss had hit her hard, especially when coupled with all the horror that followed, the chains Aegon forced her into, and she feels her heart break for her sister.

"Perhaps we can go riding soon," she offers, coming up to take hold of Baela's elbow. "Silverwing is big enough for two. We can ride however you'd like."

Baela smiles, the corners tinged with sadness, and brings up her hand to take her own, squeezing once. "I would like that."

"And perhaps Morning will join us as well once she's big enough to saddle," she adds, turning back to Rhaena.

Her second sister grins brightly, a laugh escaping her as Morning scrambles up her arm to lounge across her shoulders like a mink fur. She nearly blends into Rhaena's gown, the two pinks far too similar a colour to be pure coincidence, and Baela reaches out a hand to pull their sister closer.

It is moments like this that she has missed the most, moments where the three of them are alone, where they can act as they did as children. There was a brief period, the two years they spent together on Dragonstone before Baela was sent to Driftmark to ward, where they had days just like this. The three of them, joined together at the hip solely because they were girls of the same age. The same septa, the same maester, together always. On occasion, she had found herself missing Helaena, wishing that the four of them had been given the chance to be girls together, wishing that this familial rivalry did not exist. But the night on Driftmark had sealed that fate behind a metal grate forever and Helaena's marriage to Aegon had confirmed it further.

There was to be no shared girlhood for them. Not in this lifetime.

The door to her chambers opens then, pulling her from her thoughts and revealing their grandsire. He stands in the threshold for a moment to take them in, all three chained together by clasped hands, and smiles widely. It makes her stomach drop. "Are we to spend the morning together then?"

"Unfortunately not," she says, face scrunched in sympathy before turning to her sisters. "Would you both give us a moment alone? Council matter, I'm afraid."

"Of course, lovely," Baela assures her. Though there is a clear suspicion there, she still presses a kiss to her cheek all the same.

Rhaena is nodding as well, raising Morning in her arms. "We should find something for this beast to eat before she attempts to devour a few ravens in the rookery."

They say their goodbyes, each pressing a kiss to Corlys's cheek, and she feels her heart clench the moment the door closes behind them, leaving her alone with their grandsire. Corlys looks over at her and smiles, enough to make her guilt feel all consuming before she gestures to her dining table. He takes a seat while she begins rifling through her letter chest, searching for the right seal before pulling it out and joining him at the table.

Read the rest here :)

Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk @the-common-cowgirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @bunny24sstuff @helaenaluvr @toodlesxcuddles @eternally-passionate @herfantasyworldd @ashovertheriver @hypocritic-trash-baby @heavenly1927 @bunbunbl0gs @divxnee @seabasscevans @madislayyy @jessssica1234 @humanpurposes @strangersunghoon

[coryosbaby]

—ᴇʟᴇᴠᴀᴛᴏʀ.

Dark! Mike Shmidt x fem! family friend! Reader

♡ Content warning . mentions of a custody battle, enemies to lovers with no real explanation, stuck in an elevator trope — hard dom! Mike, oral (m recieving), pnv, doggy, , degradation, rough hate sex, creampie, breeding

“…And that is why, Mr… Shmidt. That is why, as of right now, we are placing Abby in this young lady’s care.”

Mike’s jaw clenches as he watches his own personal hell unfold before him. He watches you sign the custody form for Abby, watches the pink fur hat on top of your head and your dumb revealing sweater and your short skirt and wonders why in the hell the court would ever choose a slut like you over him to care for a child. You have a good job and experience in childcare, sure, but Mike knows you. You don’t know your right from your left (literally). What makes anyone think that you can take care of his little sister?

He clenches his fists at his sides. You have a smug look on your face, as if you’ve won the Cold War. You have a tendency to challenge Mike, but he never thought you’d take it this far. Keeping family out of your quarrels was always an unspoken agreement. Mike clears his throat, shoving down the anger blooming in his chest.

“Understood.” He mutters. “I’ll bring some of her stuff over as soon as possible.”

Smiling, you get up from your seat (one you had asked for after the first one was too hard, or some dumb shit).

“Great! I’m glad we have the matter settled.” And then, with an amused, despicable glint in your eye, “No hard feelings, Mikey.”

Mikey. A name he hasn’t heard from your lips in such a long, long time. He’s so close to doing the same thing that he did to that guy in the fountain to you. Never in his life has he ever been so provoked to hit someone. But he holds back, let’s out a breath of air, and says nothing. The lawyers around the both of you pack up, sensing the tension but not wanting to deal with it. You gather up your purse and pull out a tube of lipstick, reapplying it onto your lips through a compact mirror. Shutting it, you see that Mike is the only one in the room.

“Walk with me?” You ask, and Mike’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What?”

“This whole building is filled with only men,” you infer, frowning. “I don’t like it. You’re the only one I trust.”

His eyes, enraged, look at you as he clenches his jaw.

“I wouldn’t.”

Rolling your eyes, you begin to walk out of the room. Mike trails behind you, ignoring the swaying of your curves as you open the glass door. He catches up to you in an instant, as you head for the elevator.

“This is low, you know. Even for you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn’t about me and you, Mike. It’s about Abby.”

He scoffs, as you both approach the big metal elevator at the end of the hallway. “Yeah, right. Because you’ve always had such a desire to be a mother.”

Turning to him as you press the down button in front of the elevator, your gaze is harsh.

“You don’t know me, Mike.”

Mike smiles, not a hint of amusement on his face.

“I know enough.”

And turning towards the elevator, he steps in. You follow him afterwards, rolling your eyes as the door slides shut.

After a few seconds, however, a groaning sound escapes from the confines of the small box. Eyebrows furrowing, your heart beginning to pound, you watch with horror as the emergency light flashes on the elevator wall. The contraption stops completely, and now you’ve come to terms with your worst nightmare.

Your stuck in this fucking elevator.

And as if God is punishing you, he also decides to stick you in this enclosed space with Mike fucking Schmidt.

You want to die.

Anxiety begins to plague you; not necessarily from being alone with Mike. More so of being stuck in a small room such as this. The claustrophobia is really not helping you right now.

“What the fuck?” Mike curses loudly. “Why the hell isn’t it working?”

“How the fuck should I know?” You snap, putting your head in your hands. You lean back against the nearest wall and slide down against it. Your bottom lip wobbles, your foot tapping anxiously, but you refuse to cry. Not here. Not in front of him.

Mike looks closely at you, his mouth forming into a frown.

“Are you crying?”

You quickly shake your head, embarrassment dripping off of you in waves as you conceal yourself. After a moment, you can hear the sound of Mike pulling out his cell phone. He researches the name of the building and types in their number.

“Hey,” he says to the person on the other line. “Yeah, we’re trapped in one of your elevators, man. It just stopped. I don’t know—“

He pauses, listening to the other person reply.

“Oh. Is there anyway that you can get it fixed… quicker? … of course, of course. I understand. Thank you.”

Hanging up the call, he groans, and slides down to the floor across from you.

“They said it’s done this before and it’ll be an hour before they can get it up and running again.”

A few stray tears fall from your face, and you sniffle. “Okay.”

Mike sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Stop.” He mutters. “Stop crying. It’s pathetic.”

Your face crinkles up in anger and you wipe your eyes with your hands.

“Fuck you.”

Mike scoffs, turning his head to the side with a smirk on his face.

“Again?”

You growl, angrily typing on your phone on twitter as a way to ignore him.

Mike watches you with contempt. His eyes trail over your legs, thick thighs wrapped up in fishnet stockings. You’ve changed your hair color since you last saw him.

“Your hair looks nice,” he states, and you’re confused as to why he’s being nice for a moment. Until his mouth is dripping with malice and he says, “Abby likes that color.”

You scoff, flicking your acrylics as you attempt to wipe off the mascara that had run down your face.

“Whatever.” You say snarkily, and Mike’s head snaps towards you, his jaw clenching once again.

“Why are you such a bitch?” He seethes, as if he hasn’t been a complete dickhead for the past ten minutes. You shrug, slipping your coat off your shoulders. It’s become unbearably hot in here.

“Why are you so stupid?” You reply, then smirk. “Your iq must be as low as your height.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Mike growls, throwing his phone down next to him. “You’re so petty. You insult people like a child.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so full of it I wouldn’t have to.”

Mike’s fists clench at his sides, but he says nothing. But of course, you can’t keep your mouth shut.

“How have you been sleeping, by the way? Are you still…” You motion your hands as if you’re popping a pill into your mouth.

Mike’s jaw clenches tightly as he glares at you.

“That’s none of your business.”

“It kind of is, actually,” you press. “A pillhead taking care of a child is definitely a scandal.”

He doesn’t say anything. His fingers tap against the metal floor of the elevator.

“Don’t worry, though.” Smiling, you tilt your head. “Even if you hate me, Abby is going to be so much happier with me then she is with you.”

And with a head that whips around faster than lightening, Mike snaps.

He pushes himself up to his feet and gets down on his knees in front of you to grab your throat with his strong hand. Shaking you, gripping the sides of your neck like he intends to kill, he sneers.

“Say one more thing about it, you fucking slut. I dare you.”

You should be scared. But you’ve always loved a challenge, and right now seems to be a big one. You just smirk at him and peer through hooded lashes.

“Or what?” You mumble out. It’s hard to talk, or even breathe, but it doesn’t matter. Because as fucked up as it is, this is lowkey turning you on— but you aren’t going to admit that.

Leaning in closer to you so he can pierce through your eyes with his burning gaze, Mike chuckles dryly. A dangerous glint flashes through his eyes.

“Or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Something clenches in your stomach, and you can’t tell if it’s fear or arousal. Your vision is starting to blur, and with teary eyes you shake your head against his grip. He looks down to your chest before finally releasing you of his grasp. Your doe eyes look up at him with something Mike can’t quite place as you gasp for air and your nimble fingers begin to massage your throat.

And something switches in him, as he looks down at you. Watching you sit on the floor with your skirt riding up, your makeup all messy and smeared, your tits hanging out. He wants to make you hurt.

“Get on your knees.”

It’s less of a suggestion and more of a demand, and you’re taken aback.

“What?” You say, exasperated.

“Did I fucking stutter?” He reaches down, hands wrapping around your hair as he yanks you towards his handsome face. “Get. On. Your. Knees.”

Gulping, you look at the now prominent tent in his jeans, and back up to him. You move up onto your knees, just like he asked. He begins unbuckling his belt. Soon he slides it out of the belt loops and wraps it around your throat. You squeak when he ties the leather around your neck, and Mike gives it a tug as a way to check the sustainability. It doesn’t budge.

“Just like you need,” he grunts, letting go of the leather and beginning to unbutton his fly. “A leash. Some fucking discipline, for once.”

Watching with your mouth agape, Mike unzips his fly and reveals his underwear.

“Mike—“ you start, but he shuts you up when he hooks his thumbs around the waist of his briefs.

“Shut up.” He snaps. He pulls the fabric down, his thick cock slapping against his lower stomach. Everything is happening so quickly and it has your head spinning. He grabs the leather around your neck and tugs, practically shoving your face against his cock. His precum smears on your cheek and your pussy clenches.

“Suck it.” He says harshly. Your mouth, still open in an O, catches on Mike’s aching tip and he lets out a low hiss. He harshly presses his cockhead deeper into your mouth, grinding his hips as a way to push himself further into you. “I said suck it, bitch.”

You cry against him, but all the while your wetness is beginning to seep down your thighs. Your tongue lolls out against your own will, tasting a sliver of the cock you used to know so well.

“Fuck,” Mike grunts. His tip hits the back of your throat and you gag loudly. “Missed this slut mouth…”

His fingers wrap around the belt again, and he pulls forward. Your throat is already starting to feel sore from his harsh fucking. Your hands land on his thick hairy thighs, gripping the skin as you try your best to take him.

Even when you hate him, you can’t help but do your best to please.

“Always running that fuckin’ mouth,” Mike rants. “Always needing something to shut it the fuck up.”

You mewl around his cock, working your lips up and down against his awaiting thrusts. Tears fall freely down your cheeks, your neck and face incredibly hot. His heavy sack slaps against your chin with each hit. When you make a small, pained sound around him, the pressure on your throat causing a lot of pain, Mike just chuckles.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?”

Your head is fuzzy, your mind already fucked out. And like god answers your prayers, Mike finally, finally pulls you off of his length. You fall to the floor with a heaving cough as you try to gain oxygen back to your lungs. He grabs your limp body and flips you onto your stomach, his large hands taking hold of your thighs and pulling you up so your ass is in the air. He flips your skirt up, exposing you to the small space of the elevator and snapping the waistband of your panties against your skin.

“Such a little cocktease,” mike rants, his thumb rubbing over one of your asscheeks. “Always tryna’ rile me up. Aching for my attention.”

You whimper when he pulls down your lace underwear in one go, not even bothering to fully take it off and instead keeping it wrapped around your knees. He spreads your asscheeks in his hands, watching your asshole clench and your pussy drip with need.

“Been real quiet since I fucked your throat,” he continues, and you hear rusting behind you. “Guess I finally figured out a way to shut you up.”

And when his pants are down to his thighs and his bare cock presses against your entrance, you drool onto the dirty floor below you. Mike’s cock stretches your tight walls ruthlessly, and he doesn’t hesitate to push fast into you so he can fuck you sooner. His big hand splays across the back of your head and pushes you down onto the floor tiles, your cheek cold from the material touching your skin. His grip is mean, cold, and he begins to pound you with no remorse, no mercy, no sympathy. You cry as his hips slap against your backside, mutters of “Mikey, please, Mikey,” spilling from your cockdrunk lips. His hands wrap around his belt, the one around your neck, and he pulls it taut against your throat. You choke, gasping for breath, and your vision blurs. His breath is hot against your ear as he utters out another set of words.

“Such a good little fuckhole…I missed it, shit.”

Your hand wraps around the belt to loosen his hold. He lets up, but his thrusts do not. Your knees ache and will probably bruise later, but’s it’s worth it. You can feel he’s close by the way he keeps slurring his filthy words, the way his thrusts begin to stutter. Your eyes widen as his cum shoots deep into your womb, filling you up and spilling over the rim of your pussy. He collapses against you, and you yourself have already collapsed against the floor with your body arching at an almost impossible angle. Mike slips out of you, watching the way his cum drips down your thighs, and lets out a chuckle.

“Guess you’ll have another kid to take care of now.”

notes: this is absolutely terrible, take it as u will

[deluluwrites]

Florist!Barbie x Ryan Gosling!Ken Part 2

🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐

✨Part 1

🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐The next morning in BarbieLand, the sun rose to reveal a picturesque little town where every Barbie had their own unique career and style. Florist Barbie, with her vibrant personality and a love for all things floral, woke up in her charming pink dreamhouse.

As the morning sun cast its gentle glow upon her dreamy pink bedroom, Florist Barbie slowly opened her eyes and yawned. She had been up late the previous night, lost in her thoughts and emotions.

Unbeknownst to her, dark circles had formed underneath her usually sparkling eyes. Oblivious to her tired appearance, she went about her normal routine, putting on a brave face. "Just a bit tired," she thought, trying to shake off the exhaustion. Oh well," she shrugged, "a little yawn won't stop me from having a beautiful day!"

Unaware of her own appearance, she proceeded with her morning routine, putting on her cheerful smile and preparing to welcome customers to her beloved flower shop. Little did she know that her usually vibrant eyes were now adorned with noticeable dark circles, a sign of the sleepless night she had endured.

As usual, she gracefully went about her morning routine. She watered all of her lovely flower arrangements, rearranged some delicate blooms, and prepared the shop for the day ahead. She loved her flower shop, and the sweet fragrance of blossoms filled the air.

Just as she was arranging the freshest blooms in a vase, the chime above the door tinkled, announcing the arrival of a familiar face– Allan, her caring and inquisitive friend. Concerned by her sudden departure from the party the previous night, Allan had come to check on her.

He had a worried expression on his face. “Hey there," he greeted warmly, "I wanted to see how you're doing after last night. You disappeared and everyone was asking about you."

Florist Barbie sighed, recalling the heartache she felt. “I couldn't bear watching Stereo Ken with Stereo Barbie. I... I've always been in love with Ken, but she doesn't even like him," she confessed, her voice tinged with sadness.

Allan's gaze softened, and he gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said sympathetically. But then, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes and gasped. “Barbie, did you even notice the dark circles under your eyes? This is serious!"

Confused, Florist Barbie rushed and grabbed her compact mirror out of her purse in order to check her reflection, her eyes widened in shock. "Oh no, what is happening to me?" she exclaimed. "I didn't even realize! It must be from all the crying I did last night.”

Allan’s jaw dropped. “ You cried? But Barbies can’t cry! This is unheard of!" Allan exclaimed, genuinely shocked. Florist Barbie sighs shaking her head. “I know, I know. It's just that... well, it's about Ken I think," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh no," Allan sighed, understanding her predicament. "Barbie, you need to go see Weird Barbie right away. This sounds like a serious malfunction."

Florist Barbie nods in agreement, knowing that Allan was right. Weird Barbie was known for her unique knowledge and understanding of all Barbie malfunctions. "You're probably right, Allan. I'll visit Weird Barbie today. But first, let me give you these flowers as a thank you for being such a good friend."

Allan smiled and accepted the bouquet. "Thank you, Barbie. Just promise me you'll see Weird Barbie and figure out what's going on with you.” Florist Barbie promises her friend and bids him goodbye.

Just then, Florist Barbie spots Stereo Ken through the window, making his way towards her shop. Panic set in, as she desperately wanted to avoid him but she knew he wouldn’t leave without a bouquet.

Thinking quickly, Florist Barbie grabbed a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses from her purse and put them on, hoping to hide her dark circles. She rushed to create a beautiful bouquet for Stereotypical Ken, trying to finish quickly so she could leave and seek help from Weird Barbie.

Determined to avoid any awkward encounters, Florist Barbie continued to pre-make a bouquet for Ken. She hoped to give it to him quickly and escape before he could start a conversation. However, Ken was known for being talkative, and today was no exception.

"Hey, Barbie! How's it going?" Ken greeted with a big smile, entering the shop. “Hi, Ken! I'm doing well, just busy with the flowers," she replied, trying to keep her composure while focusing on the bouquet.

“Can I get my daily bouquet for Barbie?" Florist Barbie's heart raced as she tried to keep her composure. "Sure, Ken. Here you go," she said, handing him a lovely bouquet without making direct eye contact.

Ken noticed her sunglasses and raised an eyebrow. "Why the shades indoors, Barbie?" Florist Barbie looks up directly at Ken through her glasses. “Oh, you know, just trying out a new look," Florist Barbie stammers, hoping he wouldn't see through her facade.

But Ken was talkative by nature and continued, "You know, I can't help but think Barbie enjoyed dancing with me last night. She seemed to be having a great time, and I think she even laughed at one of my jokes. I thought it was finally gonna be my night and then she told me to leave because it was Girl’s Night and only girls are allowed. What do you think, Barbie?”

Florist Barbie's heart sank further, but she knew she had to get out of there. “I think that’s great, Ken! You two looked marvelous on the dance floor. You should definitely ask her out," she encouraged, trying to sound cheerful.

“Oh I’ve got an idea! Maybe I should bring her two bouquets.” Ken exclaims excitedly disregarding the nervous lip bite from Florist Barbie. “Oh Ken! That is an amazing idea but I would wait to do that on your first date.” Florist Barbie says as she manages to steer him toward the exit.

"Well, I hope she loves the flowers, Ken. Gotta run now, though. Busy day ahead!" she says trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Oh okay. Thanks again Barbie.” Ken says seeming slightly puzzled by her abruptness but thanks her for the flowers nonetheless. As he left, Florist Barbie let out a sigh of relief, grateful to have avoided any emotional confrontation.

Determined to figure out the cause of her malfunctioning emotions, Florist Barbie finally makes her way to Weird Barbie's unique and mysterious abode. The eccentric Barbie, known for her quirky experiments and odd but effective remedies, welcomes Florist Barbie with a knowing smile.

"Ah, my dear, I've been expecting you," Weird Barbie said, gesturing for Florist Barbie to sit down.

🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐

✨Tag List✨ @freyafriggafrey @meowkid1000 @savagemickey03 @goldencherriess @not-gone-yet-bitch @derusaert @yourm0m909 @aremos @momos-peaches @jokersgrf @imogen-skye @alathan13 @peary-smol @soowhyune @urahara24 @iwdbipp

[msn-04iinightingale]

(Since our Star Colonel is busy, I thought we could for lack of better terms, kill some time and get to know folks who will soon be risking life and limb fighting zealots. Open to anyone who wants to get to know some of my people before the big drop)

Clustered around the docking berth to one of Barghest Company’s two dropships, but not in the way of the stream of crew, techs, and other personnel, Lt . Victoria Everheart watched the munitions and supply carts go by to be loaded not only into the Leopard Class dropship “Dando”, but also into her mech, an Axman dubbed “Queen of Hearts”. The 6 foot muscled Mechwarrior wouldn’t normally have stood out, we’re it not for the cat ears, tail and eyes she possessed, and tattoos on prominent display garbed as she was in tank top and compact pants and boots.

Around her sat or stood the two other members of her lance, as well as possibly the largest black German Shepard ever seen in the inner sphere.

Major Vance Strider, a gaunt, bald man sits on a crate beside her, seemingly mumbling or speaking at himself with closed eyes, in meditation or contemplation.

“This is gonna be one hell of a drop, huh?” Said Major Anya Corwin, a buxom woman on the shorter side with curly red hair. As if in response, the large dog she is petting and giving skritches to chuffs a bit.

Victoria snorts. “Thanks for the input, Loki.” She stretches, rolling well sculpted shoulders. “But yeah, looks that way…can’t say I’ve seen this many people in one place since well, the last war.”

“Hope it all goes well…or as well as can be expected…” Anya chips in.

“Yeah, same.” Victoria agrees.

As if in agreement once again, the dog Loki huffs again.

@starcommanderhannahlewis @the-clawtake @harwood-pmc-official @the-tired-merc @lt-chari @snords-sword @wolf-among-mechs @house-steiner-stays-winning @karriethemechtech @starcolonelkatrinamoon @is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not

[tanadrin]

Election Results: 2324 All-Mars Parliamentary Elections

Elections for the Mars Union Parliament were conducted on 160/048, aka June 9 2324 (Gregorian), or 4 Cancer 459 (Darian). Elections were conducted using single transferable vote from 69 multi-member constituencies, with each constituency electing between three and nine MPs. All 349 seats were up for election.

Constituencies are drawn based on criteria of geographic contiguity, compactness, respect for preexisting administrative boundaries, and with the aim of creating five-member constituencies (with the total size of the parliament reflecting the cube root rule). Certain districts with overly large or overly small populations may elect more or less than five members; but districts may not elect less than three or more than nine members. Only minor adjustments in district boundaries were introduced since the previous election, and the size of the parliament was increased by 3 members to reflect population change.

Results

With a turnout of 28.9 million, or about 68%, the result was a victory for the center-left coalition led by the All-Mars Social Democratic Party, who renewed their coalition agreement with Martian Progressive Party and and the Tomorrow! party. General Secretary Liu hailed the election as "yet another vindication of milquetoast center-left reformism that excites nobody," though to what extent he was being sarcastic, no one observing could quite say.

Constituency Boundaries

The above map shows the planetwide constituencies used in the election. The non-shaded region is the Southern Highlands-Arcadia Planitia-Amazonis Planitia constituency, a "catch-all" constituency for regions of the planet that are otherwise too sparsely populated for reasonable constituency boundaries to be drawn. The other constituencies, along with the number of representatives they elect are:

Tinia Valles-North Mangala (3)

Olympus Mons-West Tharsis (3)

Vasitas Borealis-Planum Boreum (3)

East Tharsis-Echus Chasma (5)

Noctis Labyrinthus-West Tithonium (3)

Solis Planum (5)

Tempe Terra (4)

Kasei Valles (5)

Nikoleras Mensae-Shaanxi Base (6)

Xanthe Montes-Chryse Planitia West (5)

Xanthe Terra (5)

Candor Chasma (5)

Ius Chasma-East Tithonium (5)

Melas Chasma (5)

Coprates Chasma (5)

Ganges Chasma (6)

Eos Chasma (6)

Aurorae Chaos (7)

Acidalia Planum-Chryse Planitia North (5)

Guayamas-Viking Base (5)

Free Provinces (7)

Hypanis-Lederberg (5)

Chryse Chaos (7)

Pylos-Soochow (7)

Sagan-Masursky (7)

Hydaspis Chaos (5)

Margaritifer Terra South-Bosporos Planum-Noachis Terra West (5)

Argyre Highlands North (5)

Argyre Highlands South (5)

Argyre Planitia (5)

Cydonia-Arandas (5)

Curlew-Tereshkova Base (5)

Becquerel-Oyama (5)

Radau-New Berlin (5)

Coogoon-Keren (7)

Transares North (7)

Shardi-Taytay (5)

Danielson-Marth (5)

Meridiani Planum North (5)

Aram North (6)

Aram Southwest (6)

Aram Southeast (7)

Iani Chaos-Challenger Base (5)

Meridiani Planum South-Airy Base (5)

Davies-Okovango Valles (5)

Semeykin-Mamers Valles North (5)

Lyot-Deuteronilus Mensae West (5)

Arabia Terra-Syrtis Planum (5)

Capen (5)

Schiaparelli (5)

Huygens-Noachis Terra East (3)

Niestin-Hellespontus Montes (5)

Moreux-Ismenia Fossae (5)

Renaudot-Colles Nili (4)

Beldet-Nili Fossae (4)

Arena Colles-Isidis Planitia North (5)

Isidis Planitia Southwest (5)

Libya Montes-Isidis Planitia South (5)

Kamativi-Tyrrhenus Mons (5)

Dao-Harmakhis (5)

Reull Vallis-Eridiani Planitia West (5)

Gledhill-Southeast Hellas (5)

Utopia Planitia South-Nepenthes Terra (5)

Zaranj-Ahoen-East Amenthes (5)

Tartarus Colles-Elysium Planitia East (5)

Al-Qahira Valles-Terra Cimmeria East (5)

De Vacouleurs-Ma'adim Vallis (5)

Vinogradsky-Planum Chronium (3)

[persephoneggsy]

so i did this a while back, finally remembered it, and now i'm posting it

Mass Effect x Dragon Age AU

I did one of these already, sort of, for ME: Andromeda, but this one is set in the Milky Way.

Elaborations below:

Merrill is a quarian who was exiled from the Migrant Fleet. She's looking for a way not to destroy the geth, but to bring them back under quarian control, thinking they're too valuable a resource to just get rid of. Unfortunately, this made many quarians view her as dangerous, and she was exiled for the crime of experimental geth research. Making Merrill a quarian was the first choice I did for this AU, I think it fits really well.

Aveline is an asari. I'd considered krogan or turian, or simply keeping her human, but in the end I went with asari mostly because Aveline always struck me as condescending in the same way many asari are, lol. She's a commando who later moved to the Citadel to join C-SEC.

Isabela is a turian. She's a barefaced turian, meaning she has no association to a colony. Instead of following the typical turian tradition of proudly serving in the Hierarchy's military, Isabela instead ran off to become a space pirate, specializing in smuggling. She frequents the bars around Omega and has earned herself a fearsome reputation among the mercenaries.

Bethany remains a human; she grew up on a colony world with her siblings, and had a relatively peaceful childhood, despite the Alliance constantly badgering her parents to send her and her older sister to their biotic training program.

Marian, also a human, eventually ran away from home to become a mercenary. She resented her father for forbidding her and her siblings from joining the Alliance - not because she was particularly patriotic, but she felt like her father's grudge against the Alliance prevented her and her siblings from receiving the best training possible. Her powerful biotics made her both an asset and a target, and she soon caught the eye of a certain Council Spectre...

Fenris is a drell. He was raised under the Compact, an agreement between the drell and the hanar, and his purpose was to become a bodyguard... And then his training group was attacked by batarian slavers and he was taken captive. For many years, Fenris suffered under the batarians' rule, until he finally managed to escape. Unwilling to return home, he instead roams the galaxy, taking out as many batarian slaving operations as he can.

Anders is a human who escaped from a biotic testing facility run by Cerberus. Though this left him with a grudge against Cerberus, he also hates the Alliance, whom he sees as no better and will also use biotic children as weapons. He dreams of establishing a safe haven for biotics, and is willing to go to increasingly drastic measures to see that dream become a reality.

Varric is a volus. Unlike his business-minded brother, Varric does not spend his days negotiating trade agreements or doing finance consultations. Spending his days at the Afterlife bar on Omega, he's an information broker, and a pretty damn good one at that. With his specially crafted weapon Bianca, he's not too bad in a fight, either.

Carver, much like his older sister, left home to seek out his own path, and ended up joining the Alliance against his parents' wishes. He thrived in the military, quickly climbing the ranks due to his strength and competency. He's being primed for N7 training under the wathcful eye of Spectre Sebastian Vael.

Sebastian is a human, and a Council Spectre (I'm imagining this AU as a sort of nebulous period where humanity isn't as looked down upon as they were at the start of ME1, and there are a fair number of human Spectres running around). A wild child in his youth, his parents sent him to the Alliance to straighten him out, and to their relief, it worked like a charm. He specializes in covert missions and favors sniper rifles and tech powers.

[whencyclopedia]

The Mayflower Compact is the agreement between the 41 male passengers of the ship Mayflower establishing the form of government of the Plymouth Colony (1620-1691), signed on 11 November 1620 off the coast of present-day Massachusetts, USA. The passengers were almost evenly divided between religious separatists (who called themselves Saints) and others, not of their faith, whom they called Strangers. They were supposed to have landed in Virginia but had been blown off course, and upon realizing they were some 500 miles north of where they should be and that the authority granted to them by the Virginia Company who had issued their legal charter was void in this region, some of the Strangers noted that English law did not apply here and claimed that, once ashore, they would live as they pleased and it would be every man for himself. Members of the separatist congregation, however, as well as – it seems – a number of the Strangers realized they would not survive if they did not all work together for the common good. The compact stipulated that the undersigned agreed to a democratic form of government for the colony where officials would be elected, and laws passed, in the interests of all. Every male member of the colony over 21 years of age would be able to vote for these officials and laws, have the right to change laws or remove those in authority, and propose news laws based on a popular vote; by signing the compact, one agreed to these stipulations, and the majority of those present did so. The Mayflower Compact would not only provide the Plymouth Colony with its form of government and legislation but would influence later important documents in United States' history such as state constitutions, the Declaration of Independence, and the U.S. Constitution. It is recognized as one of the most important documents in world history in setting a precedent for the establishment of a democratic government by the consent of the governed.

[sitp-recs]

Hello heart ! I love your rescs and was thinking of ordering something! Currently I have already finished reading your 4 voolumenes (possibly have a session for this couple) the fact is that I am looking for something specific. I adore dramatic declrations! I was wondering if you had any fanfic in mind with anything related! I love it when Darry surprises everyone! It also works if they are declarations of marriage or even declarations of change of sides in the war! Anything drarry that surprises the world!

Hello hello! Oh that’s a really interesting ask, I love that concept! I have a reclist for dramatic love confessions here, but I think you might also enjoy these fics. This reclist clearly got a bit out of hand (as per lol) so I’ve shortened the summaries to keep it clean, hope that’s ok!

I, Ferret by curiouslyfic (T, 2k)

Draco's embraced his inner Ferret. Now it's Harry's turn. Starring Veela!Draco, mpreg, an old wives' tale, and a Weddiwizard.

Game On by @pennygalleon (T, 5k)

Draco blows Harry a kiss and the press goes nuts. Harry suggests they use this to their advantage.

(Un)Calculated Risk by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 7k)

He thought about the way Harry looked at him, smiled at him; about the way Draco’s head was nearly always full of him, all day every day, and about the way Draco sometimes deliberately went to bed still smelling of him, refusing to acknowledge what it meant.

Gravity Centered by carpemermaid (E, 7k)

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are two of the best flyers in the International Professional Broom Racing League.

Silence series by RurouniHime (E, 10k)

It was his battle, yet he never hurt me, and he could have.

A Song, Incomplete by RurouniHime (E, 11k)

Draco’s photograph took up the entire top half of the Prophet’s front page. Below the photo: DRACO MALFOY DEFENDS SON OF FORMER LOVER. As if that were breaking news.

I'll never be your chosen one by @andithiel (E, 15k)

Draco doesn't know what exactly he’s doing with Potter, he doesn't know how their unspoken agreement even started, and doesn't know where it will end. The only thing he knows is: he's not in love.

Two Zinnias and the Scent of Lemon by @the-starryknight (M, 16k)

Between covert Legilimency links and Polyjuice disguises and running and running and running, Draco has forgotten what it is like to have a safe harbor that isn’t a person.

Reparatio by astolat (E, 17k)

Draco snorted. “I’m not reduced to penury. I want something considerably beyond money, and I rather think you’re the only one can give it to me.”

Touch Me Fall by @lqtraintracks (E, 23k)

Malfoy was such a ponce. And he was a complete snob. And he was so fucking fit Harry wanted to jump him where he sat. It would be too easy to forget his objective tonight: to really, really, really get Malfoy out of his system.

Expecto Patronum by @writcraft (E, 35k)

As Draco Malfoy negotiates his feelings for the wizarding world's brightest star, he becomes increasingly attached to Harry and unravels the secrets he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

The Wand Slipped by @unmistakablyoatmeal (E, 35k)

After a messy, public divorce and a disgraceful exit from the Auror Department, Harry is trying to rebuild his life as a private investigator.

Rush (For A Gap That Exists) by @sleepstxtic (E, 42k)

A story of love and loss that grew amidst the most infamous rivalry in Formula One history: the story of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

The Greatest Game by @sleepstxtic (E, 45k)

The Greatest Game is something more. The drama, the tension, the narrative that the other games lack. There is a story here. Two rivals with a history spanning years; the oldest, most illustrious prize to be won.

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[hyperactively-me]

cutting down a christmas tree with könig 🎄🧤🪓 warnings: none (i guess a warning would be that this is my first time ever writing for könig, sooo hopefully this is not too bad)

The forest is a winter wonderland with pine trees covered in snow, their branches adorned with glistening icicles. The scent of pine fills your nostrils, a nostalgic aroma. As you and König trek into the forest, a blanket of snow muffles the sounds of your footsteps. You sink a foot into the snow with each step, the powdery substance threatening to spill into your boots. The air is crisp and invigorating, and you can’t help but feel the excitement of chopping down a tree for Christmas with your boyfriend.

“Are you keeping up well enough back there, liebling?” König calls over his shoulder, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You roll your eyes playfully in response, the cold air turning your breath into visible puffs. "I'm keeping up just fine, König,” you reply, playfully waving your hands. “You’re the one with the long legs!” 

König seems mostly unbothered by the depth of the snow whilst trekking farther into the forest, strong legs pushing through the slush. 

“Uh, I can slow down if you would like,” he offers, slowing to a stop to wait for you to catch up. He gives you a pointed look, adjusting the straps of the backpack carrying the heavy axe he was going to use to chop down the perfect tree. The moment you reach him, he flashes you a half smile, then keeps going. 

You catch up to König, appreciating his willingness to slow down for you. “Thank you,” you smile, falling into step beside him. The snow crunches beneath your boots, and you enjoy the rhythm of your synchronized footsteps in the snow.

“Do you see any you like, liebling?” König questions, surveying the couple of firs in front of him. 

You scan the area, taking in the trees standing tall against the winter landscape. Each tree is definitely unique, but some are too tall, and some are too sparse. After a moment, your gaze settles on a particularly cute fir tree, its branches evenly spaced and adorned with delicate icicles that catch the soft glow of sunlight.

“How about that one?” you suggest, pointing to the tree that caught your eye.

König follows your gaze and nods in agreement. “Perfect choice, liebling. It’s yours.”

With determination, you and König make your way toward the chosen tree. The snow underfoot becomes slightly deeper as you approach, but the prospect of finding the perfect Christmas tree propels you forward. König expertly adjusts the straps on his backpack, ensuring the axe is secure. As you approach, you can’t help but gush over its compact size and the way the snow is delicately draped over its branches. 

“It is very charming,” König states, taking a moment to assess its size and shape. He takes a step back, shuffling through the snow to create a sort of divot for him to stand in. “This is the one,” he declares with a confident smile.

König then takes the axe from his backpack, setting it down as he crouches beside the tree, inspecting the trunk from different angles. You watch König's every move, appreciating the care and attention he puts into selecting the perfect spot to make the cut.

“Do you need help?” you ask, standing off to the side a bit, studying König’s hunched back as he surveys the trunk of the tree. 

König looks up at you, his eyes softening with a warm smile. “I’ve got this, liebling, but thank you for offering.” 

Oh, you know he’s got this. It just never hurts to offer some help. You take a few steps back, giving him space to be able to cut down the tree, your breath visible in the frigid air. 

König pushes himself up to standing, grunting as he straightens up. You watch as his large hands twist the handle of the axe in his hands, finding a firm grip on it. As he positions himself and prepares for the first swing, you take another step back, giving him the space he needs. König's strong hands grip the axe tight, and with a steady determination, he delivers the first blow. 

The rhythmic thuds of the axe against the tree trunk tears through the tranquil forest. König's movements are deliberate, each swing calculated and purposeful. The muscles in his back and arms flex with strength and precision. As the tree begins to topple, you marvel at how effortlessly König maneuvers the axe, bringing the fir closer to hitting the ground. 

With a final, decisive cut, the tree succumbs and falls gracefully into the powdery snow. König lets out a triumphant whoop, and you join in, clapping your gloved hands excitedly. You push your way through the snow to approach him, and together, you survey the fallen tree.

“That was amazing, König!” you exclaim, genuinely entranced by his skill. “This tree is perfect," you say, running your hands along its branches.

König turns toward you, a twinkle in his eyes. “Team effort, liebling.”

You laugh at his comment, shaking your head. 

“What, a team effort is me picking the tree and you doing all the heavy lifting?”

König stares at you for a moment, a funny look on his face. 

“Yes?” he says.

You chuckle, reaching to grab his backpack for him, but he kicks it out of your reach. When you look up at him, you realize that he’s not kidding. With a grunt, König slings the backpack effortlessly onto his shoulder. “I’ve got this, liebling. You’ve done enough by choosing the perfect tree.” He winks at you, and you giggle. 

“Ok, but I really can help—”

König interrupts with a smile, “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got it.”

With a sigh, you finally relent, knowing that he is set in his ways.

“Alright, alright, but only because you’re being so pushy,” you say, shuffling in the snow. 

König nods approvingly, a glint in his eyes. “Good. Now, let’s get this back to the car.”

König grabs the base of the trunk, securing it tightly in his grip. You walk by König’s side back through the snowy path, the tree leaving a trail of fresh imprints as he effortlessly carries it. You reach over in an attempt to share the burden, but König immediately wrenches his arms away. 

“Absolutely not, liebling,” König protests, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “This tree is my responsibility. You just focus on enjoying yourself.”

“Alright, alright, I give up, you win,” giggling, you put your hands up in mock surrender. “It was worth a shot.”

König snorts, his determined strides sometimes outpacing you, causing you to have to shuffle a bit faster to keep up. Upon reaching the car, König expertly secures the tree to the roof rack, making sure it's snug and won’t budge during the drive. You push up onto your toes and hand him the straps, and together you make sure everything is snug and secure. The tree sits proudly atop the car, ready to be taken home.

“Looks great, I think it’s secure,” you call out from the opposite side of the car. König circles around to your side, pulling on the straps to test the integrity. 

“It will hold,” König declares with a satisfied nod. “Very good.” He leans down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

With the tree securely fastened, you both climb into the car, relishing the warmth that envelopes you as soon as he closes the car door for you. König starts the engine, and you begin the drive back home to your shared cabin. As he drives, König reaches over to squeeze your hand and press a kiss to your knuckles, a gesture that fills you with warmth. The ride home is filled with shared glances, laughter, and the anticipation of continuing the holiday festivities. Christmas carols play softly on the radio, and you stare out the window at the wintery world. 

Upon arriving home, König carries the tree into the living room, its branches brushing against the entryway. The scent of pine fills your home, immediately creating a cozy atmosphere. With the tree in its designated spot, you take a moment to appreciate the view of your boyfriend standing so proudly at his work. 

“Now, let’s decorate,” König says, pulling out boxes of Christmas decorations.

You both set to work, unpacking boxes of ornaments and string lights. You strategically hang ornaments on the branches, fluffing up the branches as you go. König takes charge of untangling the stubborn string lights, his patience wearing thin as he curses under his breath.

You can't help but giggle at König’s slight frustration with the tangled lights. “Need a hand with that?” you offer, reaching for the knotted mess.

König practically throws the lights into your hands, grumbling at how impossible they are to untangle. When you untangle them in less than 30 seconds, König’s eyes are practically popping out of his skull.

“If only you let me help more often,” you say, smirking playfully.

“Eh, I can make it more of a once in a while thing,” König says as he takes the lights from your outstretched hands. König then wraps the tree with the lights, using his stature to his advantage to reach the top of the tree. 

Once the last ornament is in place, you step back to admire the decorated tree. The room is bathed in a warm glow, and you share a satisfied glance with König. He reaches for a small box from one of the decoration bins and presents it to you with a smile.

“What's that?” you ask, intrigued.

“Open it and see,” König replies.

You unwrap the box to reveal a delicate, handcrafted ornament. It’s a miniature wooden sled with tiny details, clearly carved with great care. You run your fingers over the smooth wood, appreciating the craftsmanship.

“It's beautiful, König, thank you,” you say, touched by the thoughtful gift. You look up at König, and the smile on his face is priceless. 

“I thought it would be a nice addition to our tree, something to remember this Christmas.”

You find the perfect spot for the ornament, and König lifts you up slightly so you can secure it to a sturdy branch. As he sets you back down, you take a moment to pull him down for a gentle kiss. With a tender expression, König leans in and captures your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. 

Eventually, you find yourselves nestled on the couch, blankets wrapped around you, and the crackling fireplace casts a fiery warmth on your legs. The room is filled with the soft glow of the Christmas tree sitting prettily in the corner of the living room. König pulls you closer, and you rest your head on his shoulder, relishing in the beauty of the tree and the warmth of the man sitting beside you.

[shadowgale96]

Little Moments in S2E2 of Heaven Official's Blessing

San Lang's jewelry sparkling when he's amused (?) by something. This one happens when the ghost gambling bets his daughters life. Reminds me of an anime glasses character's glass shine. this happens several times through the episode and is usually accompanied by a high pitched metallic sound. Like the chime of a sword unsheathing.

The green deer demon girl is adorable. Loving the frog man too.

The wind master genderbending back into a man after being dragged to a ghost spa with the undead women and freaking out about what kinda of products they used on his precious skin.

Xie Lian physically grabbing the wind master to keep him from slipping away to find a mirror. You're on a potentially life or death mission my guy. Bring a compact mirror on your next adventure. Fast thinking on an excuse by Xie Lian though!

This guy having zero points in stealth on a mission that the emperor himself said must be handled discreetly to avoid conflict with the ghost realm.

I love how they both panic, than immediately accept Qianqiu's imminent death at Hua Cheng's hand after he continues to insult the man in his own establishment.

'This place of mine is meant for revelry. If you don't want to take the path to heaven, and break into hell, what else can you do?' Hua Cheng revealing that he knew who they were already. Which isn't surprising because they all stand out enough as is, even if his husband wasn't with them and standing within within eyesight.

Respecting the demons/ghosts for calling out Qianqiu when he said they're lacking humanity and decency. Like 'Bruh, We are literally NOT human. We don't share you're morals or sense of decency at all. Just let us live our lives.' Like, I'm actually in agreement with them.

Getting into an air bender battle, while San Lang is barely flicking his wrist at him. I like how San Lang crushes the table and sends the shards flying at him. Showing he could easily impale Qianqiu before pulling him up at the last moment. It felt like San Lang was trying to teach him. He might have recognized that Qianqiu was young and foolish, but was trying to do good. So San Lang warns him by showing him what could happen if he keeps running his mouth without knowing who he's threatening. That or he decided not to dice Qianqiu because Xie Lian was watching... could go either way

HuaLian having a tender moment looking into each other's eyes while everyone waits downstairs confused.

San Lang 100% offered Qianqiu as a prize to give Xie Lian the chance to help him and Him the chance to hold hands with Xie Lian X'D

We hear that metallic chime noise again here. I think San Lang gave Xie Lian some of is luck here. San Lang also holds Xie Lian's hands on the final round too when Xie Lian rolled two 6's and wins.

Everyone's reaction to San Lang calling Xie Lian 'Gege'. Qingxuan is curious and confused. Qianqiu looks shocked and a little embarrassed. and the grandma Pleakley looking demon's head falls off their body.

San Lang telepathically ordering his assistant to have everyone STFU while he's playing with Xie Lian.

Wind Master Qingxuan pelting Qianqiu with his fan for continuing to run his mouth.

San Lang being completely smitten with Xie Lian as he drops a man from the ceiling

Xie Lian making Qianqiu shut his mouth. Dude BE QUIET! They JUST saved you.

It was incredibly sweet how when San Lang approaches Xie Lian asking for the bet he's owed, Qianqiu steps between them and holds his arm out to protect Xie Lian from who he perceives to be a threat. Qianqiu knows he wouldn't win, but he moves to protect Xie Lian anyway. He's so foolish but so brave.

San Lang would eat stale pringles off the floor if Gege touched them,

Prince being to good for his own good again by telling Xie Lian not to lie to Hua Cheng. Despite himself not liking him at all for treating him like a pinata prize in front of everyone.

This was a very cute episode and there were so many enjoyable moments.