#also the double stripped branches

[mephiles-the-jester]

rewatching wreck it ralph the worldbuilding is actually insane for how many worlds there are to build i love it,,time for some random thoughts while i watch the movie in a single post

i like felix and ralph,and i think with the scene in the hallway on its own people can see felix not liking ralph but when you see him next to the nicelanders its clear he really does want to let ralph into the anniversary party when he comes,he doesnt want to tell him to leave despite how everyone doesnt want him there, i think inversely to how ralph finds it difficult to break from being the 'bad guy', felix finds it difficult to break from being the 'good guy',, or smth like that idk,,,

other thing, i love how the movie treats vanellope,like she's a child and so silly but shes also a strong parallel to ralph and it takes her seriously for it, i don't know why ive noticed that but its really cool to think about. it might be a while since ive watched movies with a child protagonist like her but i noticed it and i appreciate how shes not written off as just a child ralph just relates to, because she gets what its like for ralph and she knows it

no huge thoughts on felix and calhoun i love them both,also god i with that were me,,,(both of them)

also ive been thinking this for years and i must come out and say it now that i have the chance,,but king candys warning to ralph i think is the movie's best example of how much it succeeded with its storytelling and with both its princess vanellope reveal and its turbo motivation reveal. because vanellopes glitch getting the game put out of order when players see it, and her not being able to escape the cabinet being unplugged are,,like actual concerns if she was a regular racer,like if she wasnt a princess and an actual game anomaly than that scenario might happen, because she really cant escape the game when the cybugs do come, and she does retain her glitch ability when she enters the roster,,. and it makes ralph destroying her kart more sad than infuriating because you know as much as him and that he wants to keep her out of danger, and despite king candy being an antagonist,the audience isnt told why he truly doesnt want her in the race, and he gives a realistic explanation to ralph of a series of events that could threaten vanellope, and mislead the audience while giving foreshadowing. after all, turbo does have experience glitching a game into getting unplugged,,so,,,

also while writing this ralph telling king candy that the players will love vanellope and king candy going "and if they dont",,,im gonna hit that candy cane stripped ass mf 12 yards across a willy wonka world of imagination,,,with glasses

damn this movie look gorgeous the scene of ralph talking to gene with the orange out of order sign is beautiful,,

i think when i first watched the movie i thought it was unfair that vanellope had a built in power up in the form of glitching around when she gets added to the roster,but candlehead can turn cherries nearby into bombs so ill accept that,,i would play a real game of this tbh

i love turbo and ralph/felix recognising the other immediately since they were literally neighbours when turbo was plugged in, and you can even notice it in the salmon castle when king candy cane recognise ralph despite the audience getting the vibe that he just stays in sugar rush,(he has to because he probably has his disguise only in that game)

vanellope keeping her glitching is great for the disability allegory of her character, becoming a princess doesnt magically solve what happened to her code being disconnected like that and thats fine, she just becomes an absolutely busted racer that all the players are gonna use and i love that for her

the characters who got their game unplugged being invited to a bonus level is so funny,they dont even have to deal with copyright its perfect

in conclusion: wreck it ralph i think has become a favourite movie of mine

[flightlessangelwings]

FlightlessAngelWings Kinkotber 2023 Prompt List!

Here it is, the Kinktober Prompt List!!

Compiled by myself and edited/peer reviewed/approved by my bestie @the-purity-pen who had made fantastic prompt lists in the past (and who also made the beautiful graphics for me)!! This list has a little bit of everything from more vanilla to more hardcore prompts so there’s a little something for everyone, or to branch out and try something new if you feel like it!

Write fics, make art, graphics, gifs, moodboards, whatever your heart desires!! Any type of creations are welcome too: reader insert, oc, ships, original works, anything!

Have fun and be creative!!

Below the cut are 31 days of prompts for the month of October! Each day has 3 choices with a free space day on the 31st!

Because of the nature of the event, this is 18+ ONLY! Minors interacting or participating will be blocked!

Please tag me @flightlessangelwings and use the hastag #fawktober2023 and I’ll share your works!

Please use proper warnings in your posts with this event as some of the prompts may not be for everyone. And if you’re doing a reader insert, please work to be inclusive of your writing/art!

No kinkshaming please! I made this list to be varied so there may be things on here you hate. That’s ok! There’s things here that even I don’t like but I designed it that way so there’s something for everyone! But that’s also why tags and warnings are so important!!

Reblog this post so others and find this list and to share the fun!! And don’t forget to reblog other people’s work too throughout October and support each other!!

If none of the prompts for the day speak to you, feel free to pull from another day if you want! Don’t feel pressured at all! Have fun with it!!

List under the cut in graphic and text format!

Banner free to use for your posts with credit to @the-purity-pen 💖

Both dividers by the lovely @saradika ❤️

Love bites * Overstimulation * Impact play

Bath/shower * Public * Knife play

69 * Exhibitionism * Monster au

Thigh riding * Sex pollen * Forced orgasm

Table sex * Threesome * Sensory deprivation

Sexting/phone sex * A/B/O * Bondage

Slow and soft * Partner swap * Spanking

Cockwarming * Temperature play * Rough sex

Role play * Pegging * Hunter/prey

Stripping * Anal * Double penetration

Seduction * Blindfold * Degradation

Formal wear * Glove kink * Gun play

Body worship * Being recorded * Anonymous sex

Tit/nipple play * Object insertion * BDSM

Against a wall * Size kink * Free use

Lap dance * Role reversal * Whipping

Praise kink * Rimming * Tentacles

Masturbation * Squirting * Dacryphilia (crying/emotional release)

Hand job * Voyeurism  * Somnophilia

Sex toys * Orgy/group * Corruption

Romantic sex * Piercings * Hate sex

Voice kink * Virginity * Fisting

Dirty talk * Begging * CNC

Lingerie * Edging * Leather/latex

Mirror sex * Orgasm denial * Breeding

Face sitting * Deep throating * Choking

Food play * Period sex * Wax play

Blowjobs * Intercrural sex * Cock rings

Fingering * Cream pie * Gagging

Cunnilingus * Costumes * Breath play

FREE SPACE

[aloeverified]

boruto rewrite where the show actually still focuses on the original characters from naruto, but we're seeing them face their struggles that come with being adults in the society they live in and after going through what they did. their children are also in the show and we're given their perspective on the events compared to their parents'.

the overall plot revolves around naruto trying to change the shinobi system. he knows first hand how terrible the repercussions are when children are forced to be soldiers, and now that he's the hokage, he finally has the power to change it.

the only problem is, not everyone agrees with him. many believe by changing the age that shinobi begin their training, they won't be as strong later on and the village will become weaker over the years. not only that, but some people just don't understand why naruto feels this way. they were shinobi all their life and they turned out just fine — why fix what isn't broken?

it causes conflict within the cast and allows us to delve into each character more, showing why they feel the way they do and how their experiences have built up to the person they are.

besides that, other characters get their own storylines as well that connect with the theme of recovering from trauma.

gaara realizes that he's only ever lived for his village — as a soldier, a weapon, the kazekage. he works himself to the bone for his village while ignoring his basic needs, still having not realized he's a human just like everyone else. when he gets shinki, he realizes what it's like to prioritize something; what it's like to nurture and love.

sakura works at a hospital for young shinobi, doubling as both a healer and a therapist of sorts. she listens to the children tell their stories and gives them a shoulder to try on. she saw what being alone did to her teammates and she doesn't want any other child to go through what they did.

during her time at the hospital, she slowly begins to see pieces of herself within her patients. her trauma, which she's always pushed away and ignored, starts to come out. she's forced to face these memories she's always tried to bury deep. she struggles with understanding it as well as feeling validated compared to what naruto and sasuke had to go through.

she also struggles with her marriage to sasuke as she starts to unpack all the terrible things he's done to her. she's knows why he did them and she can justify his actions as much as she wants, but it doesn't change the fact he traumatized and tried to kill her at one point.

hinata's would focus on the hyuga. she's an outsider to them without any power. when she was stripped of her title and allowed to marry naruto, she thought it was a dream come true. she was so confident that hanabi would change the clan, that the branch system would be destroyed and neji wouldn't have died in vain.

only, without hinata, hanabi began to crack under the pressure of the elders and her father until she became just like them. the seal system is still in place, the branch families are still treated as servants.

it's a lot about generational trauma. how no matter how much hinata tried to change things for hanabi, she was always destined to fall into the same path as her father. only by recognizing this and making the changes her family refused to do in the past, are they able to change things.

i think there could also be something about how once, a long time ago, hiashi had wanted to change the hyūga. he wanted to dispel the main/side branch family system so his brother could be free. but overtime, he became complacent — very similar to hanabi.

as for the kids, i would show the differences between them based on how their parents feel about them being raised as soldiers.

for example, shikatema would have no problem with the shinobi system (at first) and their child would be entered into the academy and ready to become a ninja.

boruto, however, was raised by parents who want to change the system and hate the senseless violence, therefore he was not enrolled. this causes him to have some resentments for his parents as he's in the minority of children who aren't attending the ninja academy. he's viewed as a weak and soft-hearted by his companions and he hates it. maybe he goes against his parents and attends the academy in secret somehow.

there's a lot you can do with each character, honestly. i won't go further into it unless asked, but here's my main thoughts. i have a lot of idea with how to conclude the arcs as well, but i'm not sure how people would feel about it.

gaara stepping down as kazekage and leaving suna, sakura divorcing sasuke as she realized she never truly loved him romantically, hinata becoming the hyūga head/disbanding the hyūga, etc. many ideas.

[infestedguest]

A favorite Benny Gecko headcanon of mine is that before House “civilized” the Chairmen/Boot Riders his name was literally just Gecko.

The name Benny is a double reference to both the most powerful trump card in the card game Euchre, and to Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel, the real life mobster who owned the Flamingo Hotel and Casino and who drove a lot of the development of the Las Vegas Strip in the 1940s. Benny’s entire brand is pretty clearly influenced by Bugsy Siegel, both out of universe by the devs as well as in universe by House and possibly Benny himself, especially considering the buffalo plaid suit. (Bugsy Siegel almost definitely also existed in the Fallout universe and played a similar role as he did irl because the Fallout timeline branches off from ours in 1945, only two years before he was assassinated).

It’d be one hell of a coincidence if that was the name he had as a tribal, and since we know that House’s reinvention of the strip families was specifically in the image of the old world, it only makes sense that that would include names. Swank probably wasn’t called Swank before the Boot Riders became the Chairmen either (I mean, his name is literally Swank).

Gecko doesn’t seem like a particularly unusual name for a tribal to have. It’s the name of a fairly common hostile creature in the Mojave Wasteland that the Boot Riders probably encountered regularly. Geckos were likely at least associated with combat or ferocity in their culture, which given Benny’s description of them when you talk to him at the fort were probably traits that the Boot Riders valued. Thus it isn’t that hard to believe that a Boot Rider would name their kid Gecko. Alternatively he may have earned the name after some kind of encounter involving one or more Geckos, if earning names was a thing in their culture a la the Khans.

We can assume that the usage of Gecko as a sort of surname for Benny could’ve been started by other members of the Chairmen while they were still getting used to the name transition. Like, imagine every single person you know suddenly has a completely different name. Informally tagging a person’s Boot Rider name onto the end of their Chairman name could’ve been a way to prevent confusion in the early days of them being Chairmen. (The implication of this subheadcanon being that every Chairman has a “surname” like this, which I personally think is really cool). People outside of the Chairmen probably just assumed those were their full names, so now they basically are, at least in the public consciousness of the city.

Another possible contributing factor to it’s usage as a surname is the general usage of surnames by other groups the Chairmen interact or associate with, especially the NCR. If House didn’t give the Chairmen last names, or if last names just weren’t a thing for the Boot Riders, it doesn’t seem unreasonable for them to just put their Boot Rider name as their last name when signing paperwork or whatever, or whenever else other people expect them to have one, especially if my subheadcanon from the last paragraph is true and they were already kind of using them that way anyway. Also I like to think there were at least a few Chairmen who, when asked what their last name was, assumed the asker meant the last name that they had.

[loviatarsluv]

An Acquired Taste

“You play a twisted little game,

but I know in a way,

you need to complicate”

(gif from @silverformymonsters)

pairing: Astarion x afab f!tav (my oc, Aelia)

(takes place during the events of the game)

rating: mature

CW: threats of bodily harm (but like, sexy style), lots of sexual tension, choking, fingering, (f) oral, some light knifeplay, enemies to fwb type beat yk

in summary: Aelia and Astarion don't get along. At all. But all that built up tension and all those strong feelings have to go somewhere, right?

a/n: revision of my astarion fic on my old blog bc I really didn't have aelia as a character developed very well in my mind at the time nor what their relationship would probably look like so I decided to have another crack at it, hope you enjoy! :)

(oh also inspired by this song by sleep token bc obviously)

word count: 10.3k (oops i am so sorry)

⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊⋆⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊⋆ ₊⋄✧⋄₊⋆

i.

The trek back to camp is mostly silent, save for the odd comment about the weather or spew of stream of consciousness by Karlach, which provided at least a tiny bit of comic relief.

The air was thick and suffocating between the party’s leader and the vampire who just loved to piss her off— the air between them was typically quite tense, but today in particular was double what was usual for them.

As soon as they reach the camp, the group splits, all scattering across the site to their own chosen sections of it, Astarion nonchalantly strolling off to his own tent— seemingly unbothered in spite of his tightly wound shoulder muscles— which just so happened to be the closest one to hers. She audibly growls in frustration, earning a few concerned stares from her companions. 

Gods forbid she find a modicum of solace within her own tent.

Before any of her companions can stop her or inevitably approach her with questions about what happened between her and Astarion, or unsolicited and, quite frankly, unnecessary advice, she slips off to the place that had been the one place of uninterrupted peace she had been able to find as of late. 

The clearing in the forest near the water's edge that was just outside of camp, mostly hidden from the rest of the forest and guarded by a tall thicket of brush that she had only been able to find by crawling under a large fallen branch that cleared a small path just big enough for her to squeeze through. 

She huffs a short sigh, but not one of relief as she’d initially hoped to find. 

The usually ataractic smell of petrichor mixed with the misty air near the running stream fills her nose as she trudges through the muddy soil, her leather and metal plated boots feeling ten stones heavier than usual. She sets her sights on a fallen tree near the water, sinking down into the dirt before it and resting her nagging back against it, releasing another, much longer and deeper breath that she didn’t realize she’d been holding for what felt like days.

She slowly strips off the outer layers of her lightly plated armor piece by piece, goosebumps prickling her skin with each new bit of flesh exposed to the crisp evening air. 

She hisses in pain as she discovers a few new bruises and scrapes that hadn’t been there prior to the events of the day while removing her gear, her pale skin tender and sore beneath it. Her entire body ached terribly, and she was utterly sapped.

The previous few days had been more challenging than anything she’d experienced in recent history— their predicament unfolding before them all in increasingly bleak shades of stormy gray and blood red with each new bit of information they receive regarding the mystery surrounding the parasites that writhed within their skulls. 

She’d be lying if she said she still held the same amount of optimism toward the prospect of a cure as she had in the earlier days of their expedition. No, that was long gone.

In fact, the only emotion she seemed to feel lately was anger. Rage.

She knew that Faerûn was going to shit prior to being abducted by the mind flayers, but she had never seen for herself how truly doomed it was the way she had since then. It was sobering, to say the least.

She never considered herself to be particularly altruistic or even virtuous by any means, having been raised to prioritize her own safety as well as her loved ones’ before all else, as well as only being able to survive by picking pockets and slitting throats that stood in the way since her late teen years. 

She wasn’t proud of it all, and her mind was not unburdened with the guilt that came with the darker parts of her years spent under the thumbs of those who only saw others as a means to an end. 

But it was necessary at the time. It continued to be necessary, even more so now than ever before. 

An image of home flashes through her mind as it treads that path— her real home. The home she shared with her family before it all burned to the ground. 

She thinks of her sister, Nyzira, somewhere cozy and comfortable— likely  Rivington, she thinks— barefoot with her ivory hair that perfectly matched their mother’s tied back as she tended to her new family. 

Perhaps there were a few little Zira’s running around, with full bellies and big crooked smiles like their grandfather’s. 

She wondered if any of them even knew that she existed, somewhere out there in the realm. 

She envied her at first, when she first discovered what came of her life after they’d been separated. She was happy for her, naturally— but the sting of knowing that she’d found exactly what she’d always wanted almost immediately after everything came crumbling down was just as cruel. 

Eventually she’d come to terms with the fact that the prospect of such happiness wasn’t as likely for herself as it’d been for her much less life-hardened  sister— who’d rarely had to do so much as lift a finger outside of tending to their father for a great few years while Aelia had taken the brunt of all responsibility in place of him. 

A rueful smirk burgeons on the corners of her lips as her mind shifts to think about what had eventually become her home after she’d regretfully had to leave her first one behind— Baldur’s Gate. 

The bustling streets and the busy taverns in the upper city where she procured the majority of her coin and found both mild fortune and great misfortune all the same. 

She chuckles to herself as she thinks of all of the nobles whose pockets she’d made lighter who were none the wiser— hells, most of them probably never noticed as gold was never in short supply for them the way it was for the rest of the population. 

They were easy targets only due to their noses being so high in the air that they didn’t notice those beneath their opulent tanned hides, scrounging the streets for the crumbs they crushed beneath those perfectly polished slippers that she detested— how gaudy and pretentious. 

But all she ever had to do was bat her eyelashes, whisper the same rehearsed sweet nothings that worked on every single one of them, and expertly slip her hand into their pockets while they were dumbstruck and enchanted by her every move. It was easier than easy, it was effortless.

She almost misses it, which was a thought she never thought would cross her mind— but things were simpler, then. It had all become routine after so many years of it, and the pains of her labour dulled over time as the wounds from it slowly healed. Slowly, yes, but healed all the same. 

Of course, there was still the threat of death looming over her at every turn then, but at least she could put up a fight against the daggers and swords that were held to her throat when she got caught with her hand where it shouldn’t have been— but not this time, no. There was no fighting this. 

Not the way she was used to, at least. 

She couldn’t threaten the tadpole into ejecting itself with knives or swords or warfare, and she certainly couldn’t fight off ceremorphosis by sheer willpower. 

True, she could cut through every goblin, drow, or cultist that dared cross her path if they didn’t offer a cure or information for a cure, but none of that mattered as the creature inside her was nothing more than a ticking time bomb. 

Every second that passed could be her last without tentacles and an insatiable appetite for brains, and she’d be rendered nothing more than a soulless monster, doomed to follow every command given to it by an even greater monstrosity.

Her hope and faith in finding a solution deteriorated more and more as the days passed with no answers, no leads, and the prospect of making it out on the other side of this predicament seemed ever more distant. 

A fleeting daydream dissolved by acerbic reality. 

She groans loudly to herself, tossing her pounding head into her still bloodied hands as she brings her knees closer to her chest, wishing she could shrink and disappear into oblivion. Wishing the mud below her would form a sinkhole and just swallow her, that way it didn’t matter anymore, nothing would.

She reaches toward the edge of the water to rinse her hands, the cool water having a sharp bite to it the moment her skin comes into contact. 

She takes a preparative breath before cupping the water and splashing it across her face gently, still feeling the grime stuck to her skin as if it had become a permanent fixture on her body. Some days it truly felt that way— no amount of scrubbing or Gale’s fancy soap that she’d nick from his bag could make her feel truly clean. 

“Fuck,” She whispers through gritted teeth as she feels tears starting to well up in her eyes, much to her physical and internal protest.

In spite of her throbbing muscles and aching bones, she pushes herself up from the ground, refusing to resort to wallowing in self pity and mourning her once simple life, if she could call it that. 

She supposed it was, in comparison. 

But her chest felt as though it were caught in a vice, clamping down on her ribs and lungs and it felt as if she were fighting for every breath. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms so deeply that they were on the verge of drawing blood. 

She felt the need to scream, to cry, to break something— even though she knew nothing would alleviate the weight that rested on her shoulders so heavily. Nothing that was remotely within her reach. 

She felt like everything had come crashing down on her all at once and she was helpless to fight the barrage of what ifs and the potential outcomes of them flooded her mind.

Then, to top it all, her earlier argument with Astarion resurfaces in her mind.

⋆⊹✧⊹⋆⊹✧⊹⋆⊹✧⊹⋆⊹✧⊹⋆⊹✧⊹⋆⊹✧⊹⋆⊹✧⊹⋆

“Apologies for not being as keen to remove the thing that has given me what I’ve been deprived of for two centuries. I’m only saying that we should—”

“So you’d trade feasting on rats and rotting in a dirty cell for feasting on brains at the command of some start-up god? Desperation doesn’t suit you.”

His crimson eyes that were typically bright and playful were now dark and malignant, his jaw clenched and fangs bared. He looked as though he were about to lunge at her, before Wyll restrained his arms and held him back, much to his violent protest. 

She regretted it the moment it left her lips, but she was too angry and too prideful to take it back. But he was seriously irking her— he provoked it out of her, she could hardly blame herself or feel sorry.

��What about you? Roaming the streets, scrounging through the garbage and the dirt for table scraps, stealing from nobles as you perch atop their laps— you’re no better than the rats I fed on, the only difference is that they were more tolerable company.”

It was then her turn to get pulled away, as within an instant her dagger was unsheathed and pointed in his direction. She couldn’t tell who it was that grabbed her— perhaps Gale, she thought, who was admittedly much sturdier than he appeared as he subdued her fairly quickly, wrapping his arms around her and dragging her away from the hissing vampire who was spewing further vitriol her way. 

It took a lot of talking both of them down to diffuse the situation enough to safely make it back to camp in one piece, both of them too stubborn and prideful to let the matter rest until they just couldn’t stand to be near each other anymore.

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His voice echoes in her head, reminding her of every person she’d ever reached out to for help in her life, degrading her to nothing more than a pest begging and fucking for scraps. Her temper rises as she replays his words— “you’re no better than the rats I fed on”— turning his words over and over in her head, the final time they replay finally tipping her over the edge. 

She retrieves her rapier from the heap she’d discarded her armor and clothes in catching a glimpse of herself reflected on the blade. 

She looked tired. Exhausted. The dark circles under her eyes were nearly beginning to rival the shadow of her cheekbones casted over her sunken in cheeks from lack of proper nutrition for weeks now. Her hair was loose and wild, having fallen from her typically well kept braided updo. She looked as if she hadn’t rested in gods knew how long.

She clenches her jaw hard, her teeth aching from the pressure, and tightens her grip on the hilt of her weapon. 

She searches for a good target, her eyes landing on a large oak tree adjacent to where she’d been sitting. It looked sturdy enough to handle whatever she flung its way, but in all actuality she didn’t care whether she cut the damned thing down or not. 

She rushes toward it, swinging the blade into the trunk over and over until there were large and deep slashes in the base of the trunk, the bark flying in shards and bits of sap and wooden shrapnel, grunting and whimpering while she does as her bones and body still ache and it takes much of her leftover energy that was quickly waning from the day. 

She curses loudly in her mother’s tongue— which she reserved only for moments of true desperation. 

She’d taught herself Undercommon mostly for her own sake, so that she could speak her mind freely and know that neither her father nor her sister would understand. They’d know she was upset, but not the extent. Or that they were much of the cause. 

“Xsa ukta! Xsa ukt wiles, ukt waele jindurn, xsa ol jal!” She rasps between slashes, her voice hoarse and weak. 

She steps back, breath ragged and heavy, eyes burning with tears that she refused to shed— especially not over Astarion and his damned opinion. 

She's too enthralled in her own outburst to hear the quiet footsteps approaching in the forest behind her, or the approaching presence.

“Undercommon, eh? Thought you denounced that part of your heritage,” Astarion’s condescending voice breaks her from her violent reverie, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. 

“And what exactly did that tree do to deserve your wrath?” Astarion continues to taunt, slowly stalking up behind her.

She still doesn’t turn to face him, nor does she acknowledge him at all only to spare herself the energy and despite her desire to lash out at him, to spare him as well. 

She trudges away from him, tossing her weapon to the ground and walking back toward the stream.

“Tsk, I’m getting the silent treatment now? No scathing insults or cruel comments regarding my past?” He continues to prod, following a few steps behind her.

“Fuck. Off.” She finally growls through gritted teeth, unable to take a second more of his goading. 

He chuckles, the sound bitter and fabricated.

“Oh, darling. You couldn’t possibly think that we wouldn’t eventually have to kiss and make up after our little spat earlier. We’re stuck with each other in this sordid endeavor, after all, whether we like it or not.”

Her knuckles have gone white with the force of her clutching onto the fabric of her undershirt that she’d thankfully left on, on the off chance one of her companions came to check on her. 

Much to her dismay, of course it was the one companion she wished she had never laid eyes on to begin with.

“I’d rather kiss a leech, darling,” she spits, her tone coated in vitriol. “I have nothing further to say to you. Unless you’d like me to finally return the gesture of holding a dagger to your throat.”

When they’d met outside the nautiloid crash, and the elf held her at knifepoint demanding information, assuming she was a thrall or working in tandem with the mind flayers, she thought perhaps they would get along. 

She immediately recognized him as a kindred spirit as she knew that she likely would’ve done the same in his shoes. Admittedly, she found herself quite attracted to him, much to her own dismay. He was charming, easy on the eyes, bloodthirsty and self-driven. She’d always had a type.

The first few days a small fascination had begun to develop, but it was quickly squashed once she’d spent enough time around him. 

Well, not entirely.

To her protest, the attraction, unfortunately, did not dissipate.

If anything, it only made her hate him more.

He almost cackles, stalking in ever closer, closing the gap between them step by step. She resists the urge to step backwards to increase the distance between them once again, and remains planted in place out of spite, digging her heels into the dirt to anchor herself. She wouldn’t let him have any amount of leverage over her if she could possibly help it. 

“I think there’s a lot that we both want to say and do to each other— the question is who’ll be the first to act.” His voice is equal parts threatening and sultry— something only he did so well.

He could make you loathe him and lust him in one fell swoop with utmost ease. It was one of his biggest strengths, and a large reason why she hadn’t told him to piss off and find another group to leech off of. He was useful in and out of battle, as much as it pained her to admit so. 

“The only thing I want to do with you at this very moment is throw your pasty arse in the river and hope that you’ve forgotten how to swim over the centuries.” She spat.

He continues to stalk closer, their bodies now less than a foot apart.

“You are an obstinate little pup, aren’t you? I quite like that about you. You don’t accept defeat easily, even when it’s right under your nose,” He pauses to tap the tip of her nose, causing her to jolt away from his touch as if it burned her. “It’s quite admirable, really.” 

He leans forward, lowering his face so that they were eye to eye. 

“Admit it, my dear. You’ve finally met your match with me.” He grins a devilish grin that she wants to slap off of his pretty mouth. If he were any closer, she might have.

“This isn’t a game to anyone but you. I simply wish to be rid of this damned thing in my head and you want to step in the way of mine and everyone else’s survival at every turn just for your own selfish sake!” She seethes, her voice raising and echoing through the woods.

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t act as though you give the slightest bit of a damn about anyone’s survival but your own, my darling Aelia. Altruism doesn’t suit you. You and I are cut from the same cloth, whether you choose to admit that to yourself matters not to me.”

Her once empty fist was now grasping the handle of her dagger that she kept sheathed and strapped to her thigh, as she always did— a habit that came in handy more times than she’d like for it to.

“I am nothing like you.” Is all she manages to hiss before he further closes the gap between them, his face now merely inches from hers, basically towering over her— their stark height difference being something only he had taken much notice to and fully planned on using to his advantage.

He feels the heat radiating off of her, and he tells himself that it’s due to more than merely anger, if only to stroke his own ego. Besides; he could smell it on her clear as day— the faint scent of arousal. 

He knew that she was attracted to him, he’d caught her eyes lingering on him when she thought he wouldn’t notice— when he’d change into his evening shirt just outside his tent, or when he would traipse off into the woods to hunt at night, and in general throughout their days traveling. He would catch her eyes on him, watching him. 

It made it all the more exciting for him, knowing that even though she despised him, she’d let him have his way with her if the opportunity arose. He was just biding his time for the right moment and preparing all the perfect words that he knew would reduce her to putty in his hands. Like clockwork. 

“Keep telling yourself that, if it’ll help you rest peacefully at night.” He whispers, his eyes dark and hungry— she couldn’t decipher whether it was for her or her blood in one way or another.

“How can I sleep peacefully knowing there’s a leech who hates me in the next tent over from me?” She half jokes, not letting this closeness falter her composure, despite the way her heart was racing a million a minute.

He flashes that damned smirk that enhances his handsome smile lines and the tip of one that fang peeks over his bottom lip, teeth and eyes glinting in the golden glow of the sunset. The one that is only present when he’s up to something devious. 

He almost looked alive, in this light. His usually pallid skin is nearly lively and bronzed and his crimson eyes almost appear to be a shade of dark brown instead. Although, she thinks that his eyes were probably a lighter shade of blue, before— similar to hers but deeper. Brighter. 

Not that it mattered. Not that she cared.

“Hate is quite a strong word… What makes you think that I hate you?” His face flashes a feign innocent expression, in spite of his eyes still holding that same intense darkness that bordered between disdain and desire.

“I certainly don’t think that you like me, by any means. But not to worry, the feeling is mutual.” She retorts, her eyes narrowing as she attempts to look away from him, only for him to follow her gaze. 

His smirk widens into a sadistic grin, both fangs now on full display.

“On the contrary, sweetness. I think we need to stop lying to each other if we’re going to continue this little adventure of ours together,” his voice is low and breathy, rumbling in his chest almost like a growl. He brings a hand up to trace the side of her jaw gently, and she flinches away.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” He continues, his once gentle caress turning into a rough and forceful grab as he forces her to look at him, his blood red eyes boring into hers.

“Your eyes follow me everywhere I go. Your heart races when you’re near me. Admit it.” 

“I only watch you because I don’t trust you. I thought that was fairly evident.” It was a lie. She knew it was a lie, but it was only a half lie, technically. She didn’t trust him, and she hadn’t since the very beginning. 

How could she have? Not many trustworthy men hold you at knifepoint by way of greeting. 

Yet another cruel laugh escapes his lips, catching her in her deception instantly. 

He hums. “You know, this is quite a piss-poor show of your skills as a rogue. Here I thought you were an adept liar— tsk. How unfortunate for you, but delicious for me.”

Damn you! 

“You are such a prick.” She seethes, the tip of her nose brushing his as she says it, his cool breath fanning across her face serving to chill her entire body as if it had been a harsh winter wind. 

“And you are a lot less fun than you look. If only your personality lived up to that stunning face,” he crooks a wicked brow, knowing all too well that he’d just poked the beast, and now he awaited its claws. 

His jibe had its intended effect as she nimbly unsheathes the dagger that her finger had remained constantly itching over ever since he made his unwelcome appearance into her life. 

She presses it against the pallid skin of his throat just below the two small puncture wounds that made her shudder every time she got a good look at them. She swallowed her sympathy for him in favor of her hatred for him, and pushed him backward until his back hit the aforementioned abused tree with a loud thud. 

He grunted in discomfort, but did not seem the least bit deterred. 

His cool demeanor doesn’t falter for an instant, in fact, his face still twisted into that same demented sneer— it was more than evident to her now. 

The bastard was enjoying this.

The air between them was so thick it would have only been able to have been cut with a great sword as their eye contact never breaks, neither of them intent on surrender.

“Give me one reason not to slit that pretty throat of yours.” She snarls behind gritted teeth, icy blue eyes ablaze. 

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple grazing against the cool metal of her blade. The only sounds between the two of them being her heavy breaths as she presses the dagger ever so slightly further into him, but not enough to break skin.  

“You think I’m pretty?” His voice was low and almost gravelly as he said it, as if a fire had been sparked in him that he had no intention of snuffing out. 

He stares down at her, looking at her in a way he realized he hadn’t before. He’d seen her everyday for weeks now, but he hadn’t truly seen her before this moment. He acknowledged her beauty the first day they’d met, and made comments here and there just to get under her skin and to enact his albeit quite devious plan— but this was the first moment he truly realized the extent of her allure. 

He couldn’t help but to admire her now— her silver eyes wide and wild with contempt, long raven black hair uncharacteristically disheveled with some strands sticking to her forehead due to leftover dried sweat and grime, her body pressed flush against him with only a flimsy shirt shielding her frame from him, the way her chest rose and fell rapidly with every labored breath she took as she seethed. The way the elegant features in her face seemed almost sharper while held so severely in the scowl she wore like a diamond necklace. Rage suited her. 

And as twisted as it was— he delighted in it even more knowing that he was the main cause.

He makes no attempt to conceal his unbidden desire, allowing his tongue to slip out and wet his bottom lip, an undeniably lustful look in his eyes. He pressed his palms further against the tree. 

It takes her a moment to notice when she finally comes back to her senses after her adrenaline settles, a disgusted grimace painting across her face as the realization hits.

“You’re disgusting.” She hisses, pulling away from him, lowering her blade.

Despite her words, the way he was looking at her sparked something in her— something she had done so well to disregard and push down up to this point, but her once strong resolve was weakening under his salacious gaze.

He remains silent. He thought perhaps if he kept her locked in this moment awaiting his rebuttal, he could be greedy for a while longer as his eyes trail up and down her body, constantly returning back to any exposed amount of flesh he could possibly find— hungry for more and more and more. 

And from the angle she stood, with the sunset beaming behind her, her light colored linen shirt was practically opaque, drawing a perfect outline of her body that the greatest artist in all of Faerun themself couldn’t possibly have dreamt of. 

He fixated on her delicate curves and the way her hips jutted out and her waist dipped in so elegantly above them, her toned arms flexing, muscles clenching. With her strong legs and thighs exposed, he could perfectly picture himself between them with them wrapped around him, pulling him in closer— whether it be his hips or his neck, mattered not to him. Either would be bliss, he was certain. 

She was absolutely breathtaking, and his craving for her had doubled if not tripled at the sight of her here, radiant and full of fury, despite moments prior having her dagger digging into his neck. Hells, even then. 

She starts to back up nervously as his gaze only intensifies— his eager eyes trailing her body felt like hot coals being dragged across her skin. She was alight under his watchful eyes. 

Before she could move more than a couple inches away from him, his hands were gripping her waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh and surely leaving marks. 

His body is rigid against hers and she realizes how sturdy he is— she’d seen him shirtless and seen his strength in action, but it was another ordeal entirely to feel it for herself and especially in such a direct way. 

Her heart skipped several beats as he adroitly flips them so that her back is flush against the tree where he had previously been, effectively switching the roles and reveling in this new position of dominance he’d assumed. 

His icy hand comes up to her throat, closing his fist around it firmly but not enough to entirely restrict her breathing and pinning her against the wood, his face now close enough to feel her hot breath against his cheeks.

The rough bark digs into her scalp and back, his fingers press into the spot just below her jaw near her pulse point. He feels her pulse thrumming rapidly against his fingertips, he can hear her heartbeat racing in her chest.

“You wound me, pet… I almost believed you, but you lack a bit of conviction,” He purrs, his cold breath and the tone of his voice sending a chill down her spine in spite of a simultaneous and quite unwelcome heat through her, pooling low in her core.

With one hand still on her throat, his other hand rests low on her waist before languidly roaming the parts of her body that weren’t pressed against his. 

She feels boneless under his touch as all of her previously built up walls and her frigid facade start to melt from the warmth of being close to his body, but not without her brain chiming in and reminding her who he is and how bad of an idea this was.

Terrible, actually. This was a terrible idea. 

“Let me go.” She whispers plainly, unable to muster enough nerve to yell or scream or fight, settling for no emotion at all and hoping it pays off. 

He smirks at her knowingly, his hand advancing upwards, his fingers trailing over the side of her breast, causing her nipples to harden, peaking against the soft linen fabric of her shirt.

“Is that what you truly want, darling? Your body is singing a different song,” he hums, his thumb now grazing her nipple agonizingly gently, disrupting any thought or intention she held of fighting him off. “And what a lovely melody it is.” 

She's unable to find a word that could suffice in telling him to stop, but also dear gods please keep going. Her body was taking the reins, and she blames it on having not had any sort of intimacy since long before the nautiloid— only to avoid the prospect that deep down, she was truly enjoying this. This intimacy, this intensity. 

And even deeper down, she knew she was enjoying it because it was him. 

Any and all words were far out of her reach, her mind somewhere between here and the heavens (or perhaps the hells). She studies his face, now that he was much closer than he ever had been. 

Had she ever noticed that mole before? The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled or spoke? 

He tightens his grip on her throat, pressing his index finger and thumb on either side of her jaw to direct her face forward, forcing her to hold eye contact despite her attempts to protest. 

“Tell me.” He commands, his voice rasping, rumbling deep within his chest. “Tell me. What you want.” 

She bites down on her bottom lip almost hard enough to bite through, a metallic taste hitting her taste buds as the skin breaks just enough to allow a small drop of blood to release. 

Her body was trembling with the effort it took to contain herself and not to give in to him, but it was proving to be an insurmountable task. 

The logical side of her brain wants to say no, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of her begging for him like she knows he wants— but she can’t. 

The part of her brain that is apparently driven by the idiotic thing between her legs is screaming over any logic and telling her everything she doesn’t want to hear, their voices drowning out any amount of sensibility she ever had, if there ever were any to speak of. 

“Harder.” She barely manages to choke out, her voice strained against the pressure of his hand on her throat.

He freezes, his body stilling and tensing up, like a coiled serpent ready to strike. 

“What was that, darling? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He grits his teeth, his voice low and his mouth centimeters from her ear.

“Harder.” She says louder, placing her hand over his and pressing down.

Gods, he could’ve come undone right then and there.

Without another word, their lips collided in a frenzied and feral kiss as if they’d both been starving for days and this was a four course meal— their lips melded and their tongues moved in sync as if they’d done it a million times before.

Her fingers ran desperately through his ivory curls, tugging at the roots, nails dragging across his scalp and eliciting a groan from him that sent liquid magma throughout her veins. 

He obliges her request, slightly closing his fist tighter around her neck, which chokes a moan out of her that he quickly swallows in another kiss, savoring every single sound and breath as if it were life elixir. 

He moans as his tongue swipes across her still bleeding lip, the smallest taste of her not being nearly enough to fully sate him but enough to send a warm flush to his pointed ears, the tips pinking. 

“Absolutely divine.” He whispers as he pulls away, licking the remnants of her off of his own lips before pulling her back in.

His free hand greedily continues to roam and grab at anything he can— her strong thighs, the smooth swell of her ass, her supple breasts, her wide hips. He can't get enough of her, he swears even being inside her wouldn't satisfy his desire for her. He wants to mark her, he wants to claim her, he wants her to be his in one way or another, even if it was only for this purpose alone.

She hooks her leg around his, pulling his body flush against hers and slotting him perfectly between her legs, feeling his hardened cock straining against his breeches as it presses to her lower stomach.

Holy fuck. 

She almost gasps, somewhat disappointed but secretly pleased to discover that he was well endowed— based on what she could feel through his clothes, at least.

She had hoped she could at least say he was lacking or that the sex was awful after it was all said and done, but she had an inkling that this was just yet another thing she would have to begrudgingly give him his due credit for.

He notices her reaction to the bulge in his pants, and smirks as he presses a wet kiss to her jaw, then rocks his hips forward to press himself against her even harder. 

"This is your doing, you know," He breathes, a smirk evident in his voice. “It’s always you. And yet, I’ve only just now gotten a taste. A mistake in need of prompt rectification.”

Annoyed by his arrogant words and gesture, she digs her nails into his shoulder, a noise that's somewhere between a moan and a frustrated growl escaping her as he continues to suck on her neck, her skin tingling and stinging as the sharp tips of his fangs graze it.

“I’m starting to think you like having your life threatened a little too much.” She breathes.

He chuckles, lips still hovering over her neck. “Only by you, darling.”

He palms at her ass cheek roughly, surely leaving a slew of intentional bruises so that she has a reminder the next morning, then smacking it— his frigid touch adding a delicious sting to the harsh contact.

She yelps quietly, biting her lip in an attempt to stifle any noises she may make. He shakes his head, releasing her neck and bringing his hand up to trace her lips with his fingertips.

“No, no, sweetness, I want to hear that beautiful voice of yours. For now, at least.” He has a look as if he was planning something that instantly set her on edge— she never knew what to expect from him, especially not in this sort of circumstance.

“You are such an arse,” She grunts indignantly, before he dips a finger in between her parted lips.

Almost as if on pure instinct, she sucks on his digit, swirling her tongue around it and lavishing it in her spit. His breath hitches as he stifles a pleased groan at the sight of her blushed lips wrapped around his finger, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks. She smirks pridefully, his finger still in her mouth.

“And yet, here we are.”

In rebuttal, she bites down on his finger just enough to hurt, which causes him to hiss in pain and surprise. He shoots her a warning glance, then relaxes when he sees the amusement on her face.

“So feisty.”

He rubs her bottom lip with a second finger, a silent plea to add another into her mouth, which she promptly obliges.

She gives the second finger the same treatment as the first, her mind running wild with images of his cock in place of his fingers, how he might taste, the way it already weeps with arousal for her— it felt so wrong, yet she couldn't seem to get enough. 

She was drunk on desire, and he was the chalice from which she supped from. 

He pulls his fingers out of her mouth with a pop, his crimson eyes holding hers in an intense glare as he brings his other hand down to hook her underwear to the side. She sucks in a shocked breath as the cool breeze hits her drenched cunt. 

He makes a show of bringing the two fingers that had just been in her mouth down to rub her soaking folds, holding her attention and making sure that she was watching his every move.

“Mmm. Already so ready for me.” He moans, his voice low and gravelly as he slowly begins to spread her apart, the filthy sounds of her arousal like a melody to his ears.

A loud moan rips through her and she throws her head back, the slightest touch embarrassingly overwhelming already. Perhaps it was the anticipation, or perhaps it was because it'd been so long since she'd been touched like this, or worse— it was just another testament to how badly she craved his touch.

“Rather sensitive, aren't we, pet?” He teases, dipping his head down to place a kiss to the part of her chest that was exposed by the low neckline of her shirt.

“Shut. Up.” She growls, her hand gripping the nape of his neck and pulling him closer. The rumbling of his laughter echoes in her chest as his mouth stays pressed against it.

He presses wet kisses further and further down as he slowly moves his face lower, sinking to his knees in front of her.

She can't contain the gasp that escapes her as she peers down at him— his typically pristine and well groomed silvery white curls were a disaster as a result of her hands ravaging them, his eyes were dark and lidded, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Not to mention, the satisfaction that came from him being on his knees below her, piecing together in her mind what he intended to do— gods below, it was almost too much to bear.

He raises her shirt higher, holding it up between her breasts and getting just a small peek of the underside of them— the temptation to rip the wretched thing off of her and completely bare her to him crossing his mind. He decides against it, unsure if she'd want to be fully exposed in case someone decided to come check on her.

He, personally, wouldn't mind any of the others finding them this way— that way they would know that he was staking his claim on her. He was well aware that he was far from the only one in the camp that had any ounce of interest in her (for one reason or the other) and that several of them had surely dreamt of touching her— but he planned on being the only one who gets to.

He straightens himself up so he can trail another line of wet kisses down her abdomen, stopping just above the waistband of her underwear. His eyes flick back up to hers, finding that she had been watching his every move— satisfied with how quickly she catches on to his desires, as if it were natural to her.

So far so good. 

He hooks two fingers beneath the fabric on each of her hips, waiting for her to protest. She doesn't, instead she reaches her hand down and attempts to pull them down herself. He grabs her wrist, stopping her.

“Ah ah, allow me.” He commands, his voice equal parts soothing and threatening. She drops her hand back to her side. “Good girl.”

She silently curses as she feels her walls clench around nothing simply at the sound of his praise. 

He rips the fabric down her legs, letting it pool at her ankles before he hooks an arm under her thigh and lifts it so that she steps out of them. He pushes them aside, keeping her leg lifted as he pushes her night shirt out of the way once again, entirely revealing her drenched and throbbing cunt to him, at long last.

He practically salivates at the sight, his eyes burning trails all around it as he drinks in every inch of her newly exposed flesh. This causes her to furiously blush for the first time during this encounter, suddenly feeling self conscious about her most intimate area. She feels the urge to cover herself, her leg instinctively moving to press against the other. He stops her immediately, pressing her leg up even higher, stretching her already sore thigh muscles further and testing her fortitude. 

“Absolutely perfect. To think you’ve been keeping this all to yourself.” He coos, his voice now softer— reverent, even. As if he were quietly admiring the finely crafted sculpture of a goddess on display in the foyer of a tabernacle.

With her leg now draped over his shoulder, he continues his attack of wet and hungry kisses up her leg. He toys with the knife strapped to her thigh, running a finger along the hilt of the blade, then biting the leather strap on the innermost part of her leg, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin and causing her hair to raise on end. 

He slowly continues trailing up to the apex of her thighs, pausing at the very top of her thigh and nipping at the plush skin.

Her arousal and frustration had begun to come to a rolling boil within her, him taking his damn sweet time was beginning to piss her off all over again and she knew he was doing it deliberately. He was trying all that he could to get her to beg for more to satisfy his ego. 

“Astarion, if you don't eat me out right now, I'm going to kill you.”

She wouldn't beg, no. Threatening, though? Easy.

“Patience, darling. Good things come to those who wait.”

She scoffs. “I'm starting to think you're stalling. Scared that you won't be able to live up to that illustrious reputation of yours that you’ve been squawking about?” She taunts, fighting back a smirk. 

His eyes narrow, his once smug face falling into a scowl.

He quickly unsheathes the knife on her thigh, grabbing it by the blade. Her eyes widened.

“What in the nine hells are you doing?” Her voice held a bit of unease as she watched him gently tap the tip of the blade, as if he were testing the sharpness.

He grins wickedly, his eyes flicking from the dagger back up to hers. “I'm going to occupy that pretty mouth of yours. Open,” he demands, bringing the hilt of the dagger up to her lips.

She shoots him an uncertain look, confused and apprehensive. He sighs, frustrated, then presses the hilt further until her lips parted, and she took it between her teeth.

The sun had finally dipped below the horizon, the golden light shifting to a cool blue glow, the reflection of the moon glinting off of the recently sharpened and polished blade. She hadn’t realized just how sharp Lae’zel managed to make it, and having it so close to her face this way truthfully made her nervous.

A twisted part of her enjoyed it for that fact.

He looks up at her, the sight of the hilt of the dagger that she'd threatened him with only minutes prior, now held between her teeth was both ironic and unequivocally erotic.

“Much better. Shall we try this again?”

Satisfied with the outcome of his bright idea and the muffled groan of frustration above him, he returns to his prior ministrations, starting his trail of sloppy kisses right back where he'd begun them just at the side of her knee.

He repeats the process identically to how he'd done it previously, except this time he bites the top of her thigh slightly harder, eliciting a whimper from her, nearly causing the knife to slip out of her mouth.

“Careful, pet.” He warns, a slight smirk playing on the corners of his lips.

With his face still right at the crest of her thigh, cool breath fanning across her burning hot flesh, he brings his even colder fingers back up to tease her folds, the tip of his finger brushing against the swollen and sensitive bud at the top. She jolts at the sensation, involuntarily crawling upward onto the tree, now on tiptoe with her leg that's still on the ground. He tightens his arm around her thigh, pulling it down on to his shoulder roughly as if to warn her to stay still. She obliges, flattening her foot back down and relaxing her posture as best as she can manage, the thought of making this take even longer agonizing.

His deft fingers work her slowly, touching everywhere but where she needed him most with utmost gentleness. The sounds of her slick arousal seemed much louder now that they’d both gone mostly quiet apart from their heavy breathing, and she feels that damned blush creep back up to her cheeks once again. 

She involuntarily yelps when his fingers tease at her entrance, her walls instinctively clenching desperately around nothing. She disobeys him by wriggling in his grasp and rocking her hips forward in an attempt to get him right where she wanted him, then realizes and quickly tries to cease her movements. He lets his thumb rest against her swollen and throbbing clit, refusing to move even an inch until she settles down.

“Look at you,” he coos. “So eager for me. I almost want to take that dagger out of your mouth and hear that sweet voice moan for me again.”

She bites down even harder into the hilt of the dagger to stifle the moan that threatens to escape her throat, certainly leaving teeth marks that won’t let her forget this moment later. 

He chuckles, his eyes still trained on her face, savoring the way it twists in pleasure as he pushes ever so slightly further against her entrance, his thumb pressing harder against her throbbing clit— delighting in her every reaction to him. 

The way her brows knitted up, the way her glossy eyes widened, her hands clutching the fabric of her shirt and holding it close to her chest, the way the dagger shifted slightly in her mouth as her jaw clenched around it. She was a feast for his eyes and he intended to savor every bite. 

Finally, he decides to show her mercy and push his fingers further in, careful to move slowly and give her time to adjust. Her eyes blow wide and her head falls back against the tree, giving him a full view of her neck that makes his mouth water at the sight. 

Next time, he thinks hopefully to himself.

His fingers are just barely not too thick for her— the stretching only slightly uncomfortable, but otherwise euphoric. He pumps in and out at a careful and gentle pace at first, quickening over time as he feels her fully adjust to the width of his fingers. She’s maddeningly tight, her velvet walls clenching his fingers perfectly with every plunge into her depths in a way that could make a man mad. 

He can barely think straight, all rational thought having left him ages ago, perhaps the moment he laid eyes on her. All that he can think now is how badly he wishes it were his cock in her rather than his fingers— but as he’d told her, good things come to those who wait. 

She feels herself creeping ever closer to her peak as his movements become more and more rhythmic and deliberate, his thumb rubbing circles around her clit as his fingers piston in and out, hitting all of the right spots that drive her wild. Her body is buzzing, her legs trembling. She wants to resist how incredible this all feels, but gods, does it feel incredible. 

Everything that comes after this is a problem for later, right now, all she wants is to—

“Aah!” She yelps as he curls his fingers within her, the dagger slipping from her mouth and thankfully dropping to the ground beside them leaving both of them unscathed. 

He grins, continuing his ministrations. “Are you gonna come for me, pet?” 

She takes her bottom lip in between her teeth, scared to say yes in fear that he may stop and deprive her of her release just to spite her.

“Answer me.” He commands, his voice coming out as a low growl. 

She reluctantly nods.

“Use your words. Answer me.”

“Y-yes. Gods, yes. Just… don’t stop.” She whines, trying her damnedest for it not to come out as a beg, but rather a command. It was only mildly successful.

To her surprise, he speeds up the pace, pumping in and out of her hard and fast, the way she so desperately craved it. She feels herself right at the edge, her orgasm impending— he can tell, as she writhes and whimpers over him. Just as he can tell she’s about to climb the pinnacle, he stops. 

She keens at the sudden loss of friction and movement, her walls clenching down around his fingers even harder, her cunt throbbing and dripping onto his hand. 

“Why…” Is all she manages to say, her breathing ragged and her chest heaving.

“I want to taste you.” 

That alone could have sent her over the edge. 

She nods fervently, her hips bucking forward toward his face. 

He considers punishing her for being too hasty and too eager, but he couldn’t care less anymore to keep up this game they’d been playing— he needs to taste her. He needs to devour her. 

He moves his thumb, making way for his tongue to replace it. He expertly strokes his tongue across her folds, her essence sweet and tangy on his taste buds and satisfying him in a way that could rival that of the sweetness of the tiny taste of her blood he’d gotten earlier. He swipes the tip of his tongue across her clit, causing her to jerk against his mouth, a string of incoherent curses leaving her lips at the friction. 

She releases the tight grasp she had of her shirt and threads her fingers through his hair once again, gripping it almost painfully. He groans against her, the vibrations of his voice against her throbbing sex causing her to see stars. 

He lifts her shirt out of his way once again, mouth never breaking from her, and growls in frustration at the piece of fabric that kept dropping into his face. Taking his growl as a nonverbal command, she rips the fabric over her head and tosses it aside, now completely bare to him as well as the cool night air.

His eyes widened at the sight of her, finally getting a full view of the rest of her that was previously unrevealed to him. He breaks away from her for a moment, both hands moving to palm her full breasts, his fingers teasing her contrastingly pink nipples between the tips causing her to shiver. 

He notices the scars on her arms and around her hips that he hadn’t been privy to before. He brings his hand to trace a longer one that stretched from her waist down low on her left lip. He wanted to ask, but he knew all too well how telling scars could be. 

She was strong, he knew that already, but to see the way her muscles glistened while drenched in sweat and moonlight as well as the other softer parts of her— he was awestruck. 

“Gods. You are exquisite.” 

She’d almost prefer if he’d insult her, be cruel to her, say the worst things he can think of— that way she wouldn’t have to grapple with these new feelings that are bubbling up to the surface at how generous of a lover he’s proven to be, when only minutes prior she was sure that they shared a mutual animosity for each other. Maybe he was just putting on a show for her, like he always did. 

Yes. He’s putting on a show. He has to be, she thinks. 

She hisses through her teeth when he finally brings his mouth and hand back to her waiting and eager warmth, wasting no time in resuming his prior crusade to make her come fast and hard, pumping his fingers at a punishing pace, his tongue circling her clit in tandem. He keeps his free hand on her breast, pinching her nipple hard, causing her to roll her hips into his face. 

“That’s it, darling. Take what you need.” 

For fucks sake, he’s going to be the death of me. 

His words, his mouth, and his dexterous fingers are a wicked combination— every single movement, every single word, every lap at her needy cunt is nearly too much for her to bear as she uses every bit of her remaining strength to keep from crumbling into a heap in the dirt. 

She felt herself melting into his every touch, his every word, even his very presence, and if she hadn’t been neck deep in the throes of pleasure, she’s certain that she’d be terrified of that fact. 

As requested by him, she continues to rock her hips forward, grinding down onto his fingers and mouth, his fingers hitting all the right places to drive her over the edge of bliss. She grips at his shoulder to anchor herself to reality in some way, nails digging into the fabric of his ruffled evening shirt, chest heaving as she creeps ever closer once again, and silently prays he has mercy on her this time. 

“Astarion, I’m—”

“I know.” he says, voice muffled with his mouth still tongue deep in her. 

Cocky bastard. 

As if on command, she shatters, tumbling over the edge into free fall towards the hardest orgasm she’s had in months, perhaps even years. 

Her body shakes and writhes as she gushes on his tongue, but he doesn’t slow his movements, still pumping into her as she rides out her high, pangs of unbridled pleasure crashing over her like the furious waves of a stormy sea. 

Her legs quiver as the one leg that she had been using to stand begins to buckle at the knee as all strength she’d had left from the day has finally been sapped from her body. She slowly slides down the tree into his lap, eyes closed and still reeling. 

She manages to weakly tilt her head forward, looking him in the eye for the first time with new lenses— unsure what that meant for her yet. She was half sure that she still hated him. 

Maybe fifty-five percent sure. 

He grins at her, his own chest still heaving as he catches his breath, ruby irises lighter than before, a look in his eyes that she doesn’t quite recognize. 

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been dying to do that since the day I met you.” He says, popping his fingers into his mouth and licking her slick off of each affected finger, then flattening his tongue against the palm of his hand, never once breaking eye contact. 

She swallows hard at the sight, her still sore and sensitive core starting to flutter again at the immorality of it all as he cleans himself in the filthiest way he possibly could. 

“I still don’t like you, you know. You’ll have to do more than make me come to change that.” She says, managing to keep her tone unusually calm and amicable toward him despite her words and the way her heart palpitated in her chest. 

“Oh, my sweet, who said we had to like each other to do that? In fact, I think it makes it all the more thrilling.” He brings his hand up to her cheek, gently caressing it and swiping his thumb across it. 

She puffs air out of her nose, a wry smile on her lips. “Who said we were going to do that again?”

He grins, bringing his still wet lips and face closer to hers, his breath smelling strongly of a mixture of her essence, wine, and a bitter metallic smell that was undeniably blood— she assumes he hunted not too long before he joined her in the woods. 

“Time is a fickle thing. We only have so much of it left before we inevitably turn into soulless monsters at the pace we’re moving at towards this supposed ‘cure’,” he explains, using his fingers to make air quotes, “May as well enjoy the most carnal of pleasures while we still can, tentacle free.” 

She had to admit that he had a point, but that didn’t aid the cause of her indecision about her feelings toward him. He was a self-centered, cold, morally bankrupt— 

Gods. She could easily be describing herself. 

She knew that she had nothing more to say on the matter, at least for now, so rather than giving a response, she reaches for her shirt beside her and uses it to wipe his mouth gently. 

His eyes go wide at this, shock written in bold on his expression. He feels the urge to pull away, but somehow doesn’t. He couldn’t. 

No one had ever helped him clean up after. Let alone someone whom he wasn’t even sure he liked above merely tolerating outside of… well, this. 

She finishes cleaning his face and pulls the shirt over her head quickly before meeting his unwavering glare, a calm kindness in her eyes as she met his. She readjusts his hair that she’d absolutely ravaged between her fingers, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to preen himself in a mirror nor be able to fix it himself. 

She smiles softly, placing her hand on his cheek. “There. As if it never happened.” 

He breaks from his daze at this, cocking a brow and smirking. “Trying to forget already? Normally that takes about a tenday and some heavy drinking to pull off. Trust me, I’d know.” 

She rolls her eyes. “I just can’t have the others thinking—”

“That you enjoyed yourself for once? Oh, gods forbid,” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You can hate me all you want, darling. But you and I both know that we need each other if we’re to make it out of this disaster we’ve found ourselves tangled in alive. And let’s be honest— it’ll only be a matter of time before you’re crawling back into my bedroll, begging for another taste.” He taunts, his voice in that same low and sultry tone he did so well, the one that he knew had the power to melt anybody right into his hands. 

She feels a biting response on the tip of her tongue as her instinct to fight against him kicks in— then a (potentially very bad) idea flits into the back of her mind, a mischievous smile following suit. The game was now set, and she was ready to play. 

“We’ll see who begs who first, darling.” 

��

Drowish translation from earlier in the chapter: “Damn him! Damn his words, his stupid pointy face, damn it all!”

don’t know how accurate this is I just found a random translator online don’t come for me

⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊⋆⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊ ⋆₊⋄✧⋄₊⋆ ₊⋄✧⋄₊⋆

[yanmagotchi]

Fixing the Creaking

I spent the afternoon coming up with ideas for the creaking and what I would do with it, how I could make it feel more integrated with the game, and how to avoid it becoming Sniffer 2. I love the sniffer's model and it's personality, but it's hard to deny it's the least functional little guy in the game. I typed all of this up to my friends, and now I'm also gonna post it on Tumblr because I'm proud of it :).

Also I say 'Fixing' as if I already know everything about it and it's bad, that's obviously not the case. But I don't like what I've seen so far.

Mob Changes: -Creaking cannot move when in a players FOV, this accounts for F5 cameras. -Creaking move slightly slower than a player's base sprinting speed. -Creaking can move through all Oak, Dark Oak and Pale Oak blocks, including Logs, Wood, Stripped Logs, Stripped Wood, Planks, Double Slabs, Pressure Plates, Doors, Fences and ALL Crafting Tables and ALL Leaves blocks. It treats these blocks like a player uses scaffolding. This excludes Trap Doors, Half Slabs, Stairs, Chests and Barrels. -Creaking that pass through Oak or Dark Oak Logs or Wood change those blocks into their Pale Oak counterpart, and passing through Oak or Dark Oak Leaves blocks changes those blocks to their Pale Oak counterpart as well. -Creaking will not go straight for their target, instead trying to move from tree to tree, preferring to hide behind or inside. However, they will always be trying to decrease the distance between themselves and their target. -Creaking will attempt to hide in 2 block tall Oak wood structures if more than 1 player is within a 32 block vicinity of it, to prevent exploiting it's inabilty to move when observed and to encourage players to hunt for hearts alone. -Creaking are hostile to all mobs that drop 3 or more EXP, and will try to not be seen moving by any of these mobs when within an 8 block vicinity. (Mobs that drop 3 or more exp include almost all hostile mobs and I think villagers). This also means Creakings will not be hostile to players with less than half a level. -Any mob killed by a Creaking drops no items, and no XP. -Players killed by a Creaking drop no XP, although their items still drop. -Mobs cannot be hostile towards Creaking, as they cannot see past it's camouflage. -Creaking attack by being within a 1 block radius of a mob it is hostile towards, and dealing 'Cactus' type damage with a very short cooldown, dealing half a heart per 0.5 seconds, with no knockback. Similar to cacti, this damage is reduced by armour but also damages the armour. -This damage takes place just being within range, and is not changed by the direction the victim is facing. Creaking will damage all entities they can be hostile towards at once. -It's now called Creaking, not The Creaking and DEFINITELY not the creaking. -For all these changes, I am anticipating that Creaking look the way they did in what we saw at Minecraft Live. I don't dig the design personally, but I'm sure I'll come to be ok with it eventually.

Pale Oak Tree Spawning changes -Pale Oak trees spawn at a 5% rate in Dark Oak Forests, and 10% of those have Heart in their foliage. -Pale Oak trees generate with the same structure as Dark Oak trees (2x2 base, large canopy) -The Heart can only spawn in the top two layers of a Pale Oak, and only in the center pillar of the tree (i.e. it can't be a branch)

Pale Oak block changes -Pale Oak Logs, Wood and Creaking Hearts can corrupt Oak and Dark Oak Logs and Wood at a rate similar to Mycelium and Dirt, but must be in contact through one of the six faces of the block to do so. -Similarly, Pale Oak Logs, Wood and Creaking Hearts and Pale Oak Leaves can corrupt Oak and Dark Oak Leaves at twice the rate, although to do so they must be within 4 blocks of a Pale Oak Log/Wood/Heart. This prevents infinite corruption without player input. -There are no Pale Oak Saplings, with the only way to gain more Pale Oak trees is to grow Oak/Dark Oak trees and corrupt them. -Pale Oak Leaves have a chance of dropping Silver Apples, a food item similar to a regular apple but cannot be used in crafting. Gives four food (2 full food icons) and a small amount of XP when consumed. -All blocks crafted with Pale Oak behave the same as other wood objects.

Creaking Heart block changes -The Creaking Heart, as mentioned earlier, spawns in the top two layers of Pale Oaks that were created during world generation. There is currently no renewable way of obtaining them. -A naturally generated Creaking Heart allows for Creaking to spawn within 64 blocks or a 4 chunk square radius of itself. -A naturally generated Creaking Heart reduces spawning of hostile mobs other than Creaking within 64 blocks of itself by 50%. -A player-placed Creaking Heart can still allow for the spawning of Creaking in a 64 block radius, as long as a Pale Oak Log is above and below it (like in the trailer) -A player-placed Creaking Heart will reduce hostile mob spawning to 0% in a 7-8 block radius (7 South and East, 8 North and West, essentially making a 1 Chunk Square) when there are Stripped Pale Oak Logs above and below it. This extends up and down from bedrock to build limit. Mobs are still capable of entering the space. -A player-placed Creaking Heart will be entirely decorative if these conditions are not met. -All effects of Creaking Hearts do not stack with others in the same radius. -As shown in Minecraft Live, a Creaking Heart will act as an anchor for all nearby Creaking. I think if they stray out of range of their Heart, they become vulnerable to all forms of damage, and perhaps are quite fragile.

Pale Garden biome changes -Pale Garden renamed to Pale Grove (cause it's not a fucking garden). -Pale Grove is a microbiome that can generate within Dark Oak Forests, roughly 100 blocks across. -A Pale Grove microbiome is recognizable by having a Pale Oak tree that is 4-5 blocks taller than the regular tree canopy in Dark Oak forests. -All trees that generate in a Pale Grove will be Pale Oaks, and each of these trees has a 20% chance of having a Creaking Heart. -Trees are much more spread out in a Pale Grove, but there is still the same amount of leaves canopy in the microbiome. -Typical farm mobs spawn with increased frequency within the biome. -Hostile mobs still have their normal spawn rate, however are likely to be reduced due to the closeness of the Creaking Hearts. -The sky in Pale Groves is paler, as it is in the Minecraft Live trailer.

Dark Oak Forest biome changes -Woodland Mansions don't spawn here anymore. They can spawn somewhere else, preferably a less flammable biome. -Pale Groves spawn at a frequency of about 1.5 per medium sized Dark Oak Forest. -If a Dark Oak Forest is above a Deep Dark biome, Pale Groves spawn with much greater frequency.

Before we get to the honourable mentions, and if you'll allow me to be a hater, I wanna say that that Minecraft Live was the most corporate one to date. I don't wanna blame the actual speakers but just, the way they were hyping up the most nothing stuff, like how exciting hardcore mode for bedrock will be. And bundles, which haven't changed in functionality since conception, they just took a long time to code. The stuff about villager rescue was... fine. The villager news segments were fine. But I gotta say, it being called 'A Minecraft Movie' and everyone in the Live very corporately saying the full trademarked ass name was soooo painful. Always nice to see Agnes though, she's very pretty and always sounds sunny. ANYWAY.

7. Additional changes that I think would be fun but wouldn't really fit with the game -Surrounding a Creaking Heart on all sides with Pale Oak logs enables the low render distance fog in an area around it. -If a Creaking kills a player with a LOT of XP (30+ levels), the Creaking will grow into a Pale Oak tree with a Creaking Heart. -Creakings can use a 2 block tall structure of oak wood blocks as a warp point, allowing it to teleport to another 2 block tall structure of oak wood blocks. If a Creaking moves fast when not watched, this ability could be on a long cooldown. However, if they move at regular walking pace, this could be an interesting way of allowing them to gain ground very suddenly. -Creaking irreversibly turn into a 2 block tall pillar of Pale Oak Wood when the sun comes up.

Thank you very much if you got through all of this, as I said I'm quite proud. Yay! Wahoo! Thank you so much for to playing my game!

[swearyshera]

Slowly making my way through the inbox, here's today's big bunch!

@freedfromthegalactichivemind Snap! It's not beyond the realms of possibility, we shall see what happens with my other ideas for continuing the series.

I can write them down for you! It reads...

Following the events of the finale, life changed for everyone on Etheria.

Scorpia was officially handed her kingdom back. Upon seeing the state of it she yelled "What motherfucking thundercunt did this?!" She is still apologising.

Within a month of Prime's defeat, Perfuma held the biggest Trans Pride parade Etheria had ever seen. Prince Peekable still did not turn up. He was later found dead, but Perfuma insisted that this was not an excuse for failing to support trans people.

Frosta was finally able to return to Hell. The other demons had not changed at all during her absence and were still massive dicks. She has now made this realm her permanent home. It has more cake.

Mermista initially failed to respond to our request for comment on how her life had changed. When we reached out again, she said "It's fine, I guess, whatever." Her smile indicated things were a lot better than 'just fine'.

Sea Hawk celebrated the defeat of Prime with a series of 'victory fires'. The resulting court cases found him guilty of arson and sentenced to a total of five years in prison. Mermista officially pardoned him after a lot of convincing.

After finishing Sweary She-Ra, Entrapta was tasked with writing the SPOP movie. It has been hailed as the greatest movie of all time and received glowing reviews from all critics. It never received a release outside of Etheria.

Hordak finally achieved his dream of taking over Etheria. There is now a branch of Greggs in every town and village on the planet. He and Entrapta created a unique menu of tiny sausage rolls.

Shadow Weaver's remains were returned to Mystacor. The burial site is now a popular gender-neutral bathroom.

Double Trouble opened an acting school. They closed it a week later after realising no-one could be as good they are.

Bow used his spare time to focus on inventing more tech. His inventions have changed the everyday lives of many Etherians. The French horn alarm clock was not one of them.

Glimmer now spends her days collecting antique weapons. Though she has no need to use them, they are maintained in perfect condition... just in case.

Catra went through a fuckton of therapy at Mystacor. Things may not be perfect but she's happy. Also, Castaspella told her several embarrassing stories about Glimmer as a child. Catra has them saved up for when she really needs to piss Glimmer off.

The first thing Adora did after defeating Prime was take a well-earned rest. Well, she slept for a few hours. Well, I say slept, she lay down on the bed for a few minutes. What can I say? Adora is still Adora.

@hi-im-uur It's been my pleasure! There are a good few thousand strips to go through, so enjoy it all over again!

[akariuta311101]

D-Diplodocus

1. Classification: Diplodocus belongs to the sauropod group of dinosaurs, which are characterized by their long necks, long tails, and massive bodies. 2. Size: Diplodocus was one of the longest dinosaurs, with estimates suggesting it could reach lengths of up to 80-90 feet (24-27 meters). Despite its length, it was relatively lightweight for its size, weighing between 10 to 20 tons.

3. Period: Diplodocus lived during the Late Jurassic period, approximately 155 to 145 million years ago.

4. Habitat: Fossil evidence suggests that Diplodocus inhabited what is now North America, particularly in the area that is now the western United States, including Colorado, Montana, Utah, and Wyoming.

5. Diet: As a herbivore, Diplodocus primarily fed on plants. Its long neck allowed it to reach high vegetation, as well as low-lying plants.

6. Anatomy: Diplodocus had a long, whip-like tail, which it might have used for defense or communication. Its neck was also extremely long, consisting of at least 15 vertebrae.

7. Skull and Teeth: The skull of Diplodocus was small compared to its body, with peg-like teeth that were likely used to strip leaves from branches.

8. Movement: It is believed that Diplodocus moved on all fours, but there is some evidence suggesting it could rear up on its hind legs to reach higher vegetation.

9. Discovery: The first Diplodocus fossils were discovered in 1877 by Samuel Wendell Williston in Colorado. The genus name, Diplodocus, was given by paleontologist Othniel Charles Marsh in 1878, meaning “double beam” in reference to its double-beamed chevron bones located on the underside of its tail.

10. Cultural Impact: Diplodocus has become one of the most well-known dinosaurs, often featured in museums, literature, and media. One of the most famous specimens, nicknamed “Dippy,” has been a central exhibit in the Natural History Museum in London.

[ltwilliammowett]

The Irish Currach

The currach is a traditional Irish boat built from a light wooden frame covered with tarred leather or canvas. They were usually 4.80 to 5.50 m long and slightly less than 1 m wide. Depending on the purpose for which they were built and where they were built, they could be seaworthy with a keel and sail or flat as a river or coastal vessel. It is not known exactly when they first appeared on the coasts of Ireland, but they seem to have been around since the Neolithic period.

A modern Kerry currach 

Used for fishing or transport, they could also be used for other purposes. Pytheas of Massalia is said to have used one around 340 BC during his exploration of north-western Europe. Whether he actually did so is questionable, since his account of the voyage has been lost and other ancient authors like to portray him as a liar and label his observations as fictitious. Today's researchers, however, believe him to a large extent.

Pytheas on his voyage to Thule in 340 BC, by Stephen Biesty 2011

In chapter 4 of the Navigatio Sancti Brendani, the author describes how St Brendan and his monks built a curragh for the planned sea voyage in 565 and 573 AD across the open sea to the "Isle of the Blessed". The material is described in detail: resin-soaked ox hides tanned in oak tan for the covering, ash wood for the frames and oak wood for gunwale, oars, oars and mast, all made waterproof with (sheep) fat. Then a hull was constructed from longitudinal and transverse frames joined with leather strips, the skins pulled over them and sewn together with flax fibre threads. Oars, mast, leather straps (for the shrouds and sheets), leather sails, as well as spare skins, woods and grease completed the equipment.

Book illustration Manuscriptum translationis germanicae Cod. Pal. Germ. 60, fol. 179v (University Library  of Heidelberg, Germany), written around 1460 AD. St. Brendan in a currach.

A similarly constructed boat is described in the mythical tales Immram Curaig Maíle Dúin ("The Voyage of the Boat of Máel Dúin") from the 10th century and Immram Brain ("Bran's Voyage") from the 8th century. The currach survives to this day and caused quite a stir in the 17th century when an attempt was made to recreate a seagoing one. Captain Thomas Phillips, described and drew it as follows: "A portable vessel made of wicker, commonly used by the wild Irish". The ocean-going vessel is about 6m long, has a keel and rudder, a ribbed hull and a mast in the middle of the vessel. Because of the keel, the ship is built from the bottom up. A fairing (probably made of animal skins) was added, with the sides supported by poles in the gaps.

The mast is supported by stays and double shrouds on each side, the latter sloping down to an outer plank which serves as a chain stay. The forestay runs over a small fork above the yard, which carries a square sail: a branch is tied to the top of the mast. The stern is topped by double half-rings which could support a cover.

Captain Thomas Phillips - Currach, 17th century

Phillips' sketches suggest that such a vessel was by all means common in his time and probably in use earlier. The keel would improve the handling of the boat, but the hull would remain flexible.

A modern Donegal Sea Currach

Today's currachs are sturdy, light and versatile vessels. Their framework consists of a truss formed by frames and stringers and surmounted by a gunwale. There is a stem and stern post, but no keel. For this it is rowed but can also have a mast and sail, but with a minimum of rigging. The outside of the hull is covered with tarred canvas or calico, a substitute for animal skin. They are used for, recreation, fishing, ferries and for transporting goods and livestock, including sheep and cattle.  

[orreanintrepidness]

How Orre works (2024 Lore Update)

This one is much, much longer than the original, and so is going under a keep reading

Orre has an actual government, somehow, nevermind the fact that said government is just Alistair, who doubles as the region's champion, alongside an advisory council that mostly oversees things on his behalf. Disagreements between himself and said council are frequent, and the two often act against one another until Alistair outright overrules them entirely out of frustration. Even with all this, support for Alistair remaining in the position he is in is immensely popular within Orre, meanwhile it is condemned outside of Orre. But with this power, Alistair does not meddle in the day to day living of Orreans whatsoever, absolute or not, he does not overstep without good cause, Tyranny is not his taste.

Non-Orreans CANNOT become the region's champion. Not only because Alistair seems nigh-unbeatable, but also because no Orrean would ever even bother listening to them, thus, making it impossible for them to remain.

Orre in fact, has very lax laws when it comes to weaponry, while other regions have laws that prohibit the ownership of many (E.g firearms) Orre has none to speak of, everything is fair game.

Technologically, Orre is no longer stuck in the early-mid 90s, though in some areas it does still lag behind somewhat, it is actually ahead of other regions in a number of areas primarily in the field of hover-based technology and power generation.

As such, the idea of paying for power to one's home is a thing entirely of the past. Orre produces enough power to not only fuel itself, but also enough to power all of Unova all year round, though this power is not shared with the Unovan network.

Touching Orrean mines, be they empty or not, as a non-Orrean is genuinely the FASTEST way to get yourself killed. The mines are seen in a way that is borderline sacred, especially since most of them have dried up and thus Orreans giving someone anything made of Orrean metals is considered an EXTREMELY significant gesture. Though, in more recent times, with the newer technology, most of these mines have since been re-opened to fuel the now booming Orrean industrial base.

Ownership of Shadow Pokemon is considered legal, and is extremely common in the region, even with the production of them being halted when Cipher was "Destroyed" the first time around. With the real destruction of Cipher, Orrean Shadow Pokemon production has genuinely and entirely been ceased once and for all.

Interpol is still outright forbidden from entering the Orre region at all, and instead, Orre is policed by a democratically elected Sheriff system. Each town/city/village elects their sheriff, who doubles as the town's mayor, as well as law enforcement, said sheriff is free to appoint deputies as they see fit. Each Sheriff is in place for six months between elections.

Outside Corporations are all but forbidden from operating within Orre, many of these corporations are the very same ones that almost stripped the region bare of resources after the collapse of the last real government of Orre. The sole exception to this ruling is the Aether Foundation, however even then, they had to create a seperate Orrean branch that has to answer to both Alistair and the greater foundation itself. The only real Orrean corporation is the OAA, the Orrean Arms Association, which is the primary head of the Region's military industrial complex which in turn fuels the majority of the Orrean economy, followed closely by it's subdivision, the OOA, or Orran Oil Association, which is responsible for handling the region's huge oil production. Both the OAA and OOA are headed by Alistair, who makes sure that the council cannot meddle in the goings on of these two key parts of the Orrean machine.

The OAA, however, is not entirely clean, a lot of the arms produced within Orre go on to end up in the hands of criminal organisations across the world, though this information is not public, nor is the reasoning for it known to anyone in particular beyond Alistair himself.

Orre has become an extremely diverse region, thanks in no small part to the fact that Interpol cannot set foot there. Many criminals from the likes of Team Magma, Team Aqua, Rocket, and other organisations that have either collapsed, or downsized, have ended up here. Though most are welcome, a key exception to this rule are those who were part of Team Plasma, who are instead shown the full length of Orrean justice, as though the crimes they committed elsewhere were committed on Orrean soil. Thanks to the fact that Alistair himself actively fought against them during his time living in Unova. Large parts of Orrean research is done by former members of Team Galactic and a few stragglers from Flare, though those are much rarer.

Even with this diversity, tradition, at least in it's historic form, is dead in Orre. The Shrine for Celebi no longer sees use, the gods aren't worshipped, the old ideal of might makes right no longer applies. Old Orrean tradition has all but ceased to be, replaced by the tradition of progress, and the future ahead.

The above however, does not apply to the much, much older indigenous religions and faiths that exist within Orre, which are treated with respect. They live freely within Orre.

With all this, Orre has reached complete and total parity with the other "major" regions, and is now seemingly unshaking in it's new position, finally asserting itself as the large region it is.

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Ringalingaling

Chef grumbled as she made her way through the undergrowth. The incessant ringing was a good sign, proof that one of her traps had been tripped by tonight's dinner.

Ringalingaling

But oh, was it annoying! She wondered if the bells had been secretly imbued with essence of Troll—the annoyance she felt was certainly the same. That she might never again hear the annoying peal of a happy Troll's singing made the sound—the reminder—all the more grating.

Ringalingaling

But what else could she do? Those blasted little ingrates dug tunnels out of Bergentown, and none had been recovered. And then her fellow Bergens, whom she had kept happy for decades, turned out to be just as ungrateful and banished her for something that was no fault of her own.

Ringalingaling

Chef growled, snapping a branch off of a tree as she passed. Horrid, lazy, ungrateful dimwits! She gave them everything she had and yet they still threw her out! And it was all because those little tree-dwelling elves snuck away! She had done everything right; guards were assigned to watch the Trolls in shifts, the cage kept the riffraff out—the Trolls had been so happy that she hadn't seen a single gray one in nearly a decade. She had done everything right, and where had it gotten her?

Ringalingaling

Oh! That incessant ringing! Chef leaned against a tree, breathing to try and clear her anger. Letting her fury take the reins would only lead her to further ruin, she knew. She needed to take the reins of her fury, carefully cultivate the bitterness until she had coals hot enough to hurl upon her enemies. Roaring and destroying the undergrowth would get her nowhere.

Ringalingaling

Still, the ringing continued. It was a good sign—it wouldn't be ringing if whatever had been caught had somehow wriggled free. But the noise might also draw opportunistic predators; Chef needed to get to her trap sooner.

Ringalingaling

She had done everything right, and yet she had still ended up here. Banished from her home, stripped of her power and dignity. Out in these woods with nary a Troll in sight and only her wits and what she could purchase at fringe territories to survive off of. The bells were a recent addition to her traps; a warning system. An annoying warning system that reminded her of what she had lost, but a warning system nonetheless.

Ringalingalinginginging

Oh, was the ringing getting more frantic? More frenzied, as her steps closed in? Chef grinned at the thought that whatever she had trapped knew it was being hunted—a little fear went a long way in elevating the taste of most dishes. She licked her lips as she imagined what kind of dishes she might be able to make... she had recently found a source of honey not far from her camp... and her spice rack wasn't short on variety either.

Ringalingalingalinging

Chef pulled back a section of undergrowth to reveal the sprung trap. It was simple enough in design; any unfortunate critter that passed by had a good chance of being snagged in the snare. That same snare had a bell tied along the string, making it so that every struggle would only alert her to the trap's success.

Ringalingalingalingalinginging

Chef beamed at the panicking Troll tangled up in her snare. A Troll! It squeaked up at her, its useless struggles doubling as Chef reached down. "Oh, you poor thing." Chef crooned, licking her lips. "Let me help you." Poison dripped in her voice, and the Troll—no, a Trolling, if the size was any indication—dug little paws into the dirt in an attempt to scramble away.

Ringalin—

The bell ceased its clamoring as Chef grabbed the Troll. With her free hand, she unzipped her fannypack. The Troll in her fist squirmed, bringing tiny claws and teeth to bear against her tough skin—not that she could feel more than the slightest itch. A gentle squeeze, and the little thing stilled completely. Chef wasted no time in untangling the Troll, moving to put it in the fannypack so she could reset the trap—

Wait.

Chef lifted the Trolling up to look at it more closely. That it was small was of no concern; size didn't matter when it came to the effect that eating a Troll had, and the younger Trolls tended to be much happier than the adults, anyway, but—

Gray eyes stared at her from a face of gray fur. Dark hair whipped impotently at her hands, gray paws grasping and squirming and kicking in an attempt to break free of her grip. Gray gray gray, down to the tip of its little tail.

"Rotten." Chef growled. The Trolling shrieked out another plea. "Useless." Trolls had one purpose in their insignificant lives, one use that they contributed to this miserable world amidst all their frivolity. To cultivate happiness and goodwill, so that when the time for harvest was nigh they could bring that same joy to the Bergens that depended on them. A Troll that had gone gray couldn't do anything of the sort—they had gone rotten, useless, unhappy—

Chef snarled, shoving the Trolling into her fannypack. She leaned down and reset the trap, the bell giving out one more pathetic ring before falling silent again. Anger raked up her throat and she snorted, lips curling in disgust.

She had finally found herself the one thing that might get her her old life back—

And it was utterly useless.

OH MY GODDDD THIS IS SO GOOD

[vallxlkzal]

🥀💔Part four💔🥀

Wally groaned softly from the pain and the feeling that something prickly and unpleasant was resting on his cheek. It was tree branches, moss and leaves. And it was nothing like the comfortable seat in the Detective's car. After making an incredibly strong effort to open his eyes, the striped creature realized that he was lying in the forest, it was night and quite cold. Well, being alive was the main thing, but other sounds were heard nearby. Someone was crying and touching Waldini with small hands.

— Wally! Wally! — Junior called, and when Wally finally opened his eyes, the child hugged this sweet creature tightly.

— Junior... What happened? Where are we? Where's your dad? Why don't I remember anything at all... — Wally sat down weakly, leaning against a tree, and gently held the child to him to calm him down. It seemed that Waldini's hat and hair were bleeding again, and the bandage was no longer stopping it. Wally grimaced at the discomfort, wiping the blood off with his sleeve.

— I don't know! We were eating ice cream with you and Dad at the café, and then I fell asleep in the car and woke up here with you! — Junior answered scared and hugged Wally tightly, shivering. Wally realized that it was too cold outside and took off his sweater, putting it on the boy. Usually Wally wore two sweaters at once, and this universe, surprisingly, was no exception, because under another sweater he also wore the same striped red and white one. It seems that Waldo also adheres to this idea.

It was frightening. Wally thought he was nothing like that evil thing.

— Don't worry, we'll find our way, everything will be okay. We'll get back to your daddy soon, just don't cry, okay? — Wally patted the child and he nodded his head in agreement.

Feeling in his pockets, Wally found his phone with a cracked screen and realized that he hadn't asked for the Detective's number, so he simply dialed all the possible emergency numbers, but unfortunately, there was no connection. And the battery was going to die very soon.

And then Wally realized that they were not just in a forest. They were in a dangerous forest with swamps all around. Stripped creature and Junior were only lucky to be on a relatively dry island, otherwise they were terribly, terribly unlucky.

And, a little farther away from them, right in the swamp, there was something standing and smiling broadly, not sinking at all, because shit doesn't sink. Someone.

— Odlaw? — Wally pulled Junior into a hug, protecting him, because besides Odlaw, they were surrounded by two other Waldos. Some of them were sitting in the trees, other were standing on solid ground, not wanting to get dirty in the mud. Where is the other Waldo? He's in prison, instead of Odlaw! Sitting there and smiling.

— The child abductor and the cause of the accident has woken up! — one of Waldo's doubles laughed furiously, followed by all the others, including the vile Odlaw.

Very soon, however, everyone fell silent and disappeared. Only Odlaw remained, staring and staring at Wally. Yellow and black stripped creature looked so greedily, as if he wanted to eat, approaching, no, sneaking up on him like a predator on its prey.

— I take all the candy from the children, especially candy like you, — the bastard hissed, clearly hinting at very unpleasant consequences if he got too close. Wally took Junior in his arms and tried to wade through the swamp, using all his knowledge to avoid drowning.

Waldo set up poor Waldini, tripped him up, stabbed him in the back. But so far, only morally, because he left the physical punishment to his Detective personally.

Wally and Junior were kidnapped and now, apparently, according to Waldo, there is a missing Junior and his angry father, who either had an accident, or in the hospital, or died, or is looking for Wally and his child with the thoughts "I knew I couldn't trust him".

Wally's thoughts were indeed in line with reality, so the next part of the day, which no one remembered, began according to this scenario: Wally remembered getting ice cream in a café, talking to the Detective about Whitebeard, having to go to the bathroom, and the Detective naively letting Waldini go alone, even though he had promised to keep an eye on him. The company of a cute character from books and cartoons relaxed this cop too much. It was a shame.

After going to the restroom, the striped creature wanted to return, but he was detained by none other than Waldo himself. There were several of them and they acted so quickly that Wally didn't even have time to call for help because he was teleported to another place, and Waldo, fixing his hair in front of the mirror and smiling at his reflection, went to the Detective and Junior as if nothing had happened. He even wore the same bandages and painted himself too realistically as a victim of beatings.

Wally didn't remember anything after that, because in his place, only Waldo had his name and the Detective's trust.

The Detective did not notice the difference at all. Not at all. Although he should have. A wanted serial killer was sitting next to him, eating ice cream calmly, behaving identically to Wally, asking identical questions and making such a sad and unhappy face that the Detective wanted to hug the creature... and kiss him.

Here's what happened.

— I know where he lives. He's, uh... He's a little strange and he's into science, but... That's something, I think he'll be better at talking than Odlaw, — the Detective said, not knowing that Waldo already knew everything.

— Can I meet him? — Waldo asked in a fake-sad tone, and the Detective agreed. They finished their meal, paid for it, and set off on their journey, which took a little time. Waldo laughed in his mind at the fact that people needed cars or something to get somewhere at least at the speed of Earth's outdated technology, while also spending time and energy on the trip. They are so insignificant.

Waldo looked aloof and silent, although he was actually bursting with laughter inside. The stupid Detective feels safe and loved again. Naive, short-sighted, losing his vigilance and taste for their bloody, cruel game is the most gross mistake. He thinks he is saving Wally, but in fact he is digging a hole for him with his own hands with every dreamy breath, completely forgetting about the whole nightmare that Waldo has carefully saved for later.

— The scary thing is that during this time Waldo hasn't appeared anywhere and hasn't killed anyone... I really don't like this... — the Detective finally remembered his life's work, keeping his eyes on the roadl. Waldo turned to the window, hiding his smug smile.

— You don't like the fact that he didn't kill anyone? — the maniac asked as calmly as possible and without suspicious irony, realizing that he was about to laugh right in the Detective's face, but he held on. He was still holding it together.

— What? No... I mean, he disappears from sight when he does something too bad. I really don't like this...

The potential Wizard, the mad scientist Whitebeard, lived far away in the forest. Luckily, there was a good road that ran through it. Empty, without anyone. No cars, no witnesses. Only the Detective, the murderer he has been searching for so diligently for many years and the child who was unlucky enough to be born into this crazy family.

— You know what, Detective?

— What?

Waldo's long fingers grabbed the man's shoulders and turned him around to face the murderer's smiling face. Before the Detective could react or understand, Waldo, with his usual eerie laugh, hugged him closer and kissed the annoying man so deeply that he lost control of the steering wheel. And he kissed him as long as the car allowed, which flew off the road and crashed into a tree.

With a loud, maniacal laugh, Waldo disappeared again right before the last seconds before the accident with Junior, and the Detective, feeling betrayed and broken inside, managed to hear only one thing: "You thought I was Wally? Did you really think that? What a fool you are, ahahaha!"

"You will never, ever find me and Junior again, and even if you do, I'm only giving you a few days. Use your brain, Detective!" — another letter from a red envelope found near the crash site trembled in man's bloody hands. This letter was trembling and crumpled with fierce anger and all-consuming aggression, as if it had absorbed all the hatred that the unfortunate Detective had been carrying around for years.

Wally... No, Waldo. Waldo gonna regret this.

🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔🥀💔

[lizzie-bennetdarcy]

Fic stats meme

rules: give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.

Tagged by @hippolotamus @stereopticons and @smblmn thank you, lovelies 😘😘

Most hits:

[Art] I'll take you apart with my teeth, sweetheart (nsfw link)

This has the most hits by like... a lot 😂

After an extended time apart, Alex and Henry finally have some alone time.

Second most kudos

(He) was a fast machine

The first time Patrick heard his neighbors having sex he had yet to meet them. Mostly, he was impressed, and a little turned on. It was incredibly metronome-like, rhythmic, and lasted nearly an hour. There was no doubt about it - someone was getting absolutely railed.

Third most comments (we're going with comment threads, since I try to reply to all comments)

One day you'll understand how much I love you

"Come on David, we're gonna be late!" Patrick calls up the stairs. He double checks the time. They're technically still plenty early for the airport, but he's been married for long enough to know that Rose Family Time works differently than everyone else's time.

"I'm almost finished, you know packing my knits is a delicate process," David yells back at him.

"It's the middle of summer and we're going to San Francisco. I don't think you'll need your knits, David!"

After a busy few months working at the rapidly-expanding Rose Apothecary, David and Patrick take a much needed vacation.

Fourth most bookmarks

Also (He) was a fast machine

Fifth most words

A taste of you

So here he is, alone. In this stupid Elmdale strip mall, in a space he is certain does not live up to health code standards. He looks around the room and sees mostly couples, which only serves to drive home the fact that he is so, so very single this holiday season.

Or...

David and Patrick meet at random at a holiday cake pop decorating class

Least words

24 hour photo

A quick conversation between Patrick and Marcy following David's olive branch.

(Aka the missing date night photo from Lock it up)

Tagging @wordthieve @walnuts-and-berries @hullomoon @swearphil @rosedavid @treluna4 @jesuisici33 if you wanna play!! 🥰

[mineralsrocksandfossiltalks]

FOSSIL FRIDAY: DIPLODOCUS

Diplodocus, the "double beam" in reference to it's double-beamed chevrons on the caudal verts. It was discovered by S.W. Williston

and named by Othniel Charles Marsh.

It is from the Late Jurassic Morrison Formation of North America.

Diplodocus carnegii is one of the longest dinosaurs known from a complete skeleton. It's tail is composed of 80 caudal verts.

It has been speculated that the tail could have been used as a defensive or noise making weapon, that it could be used much like a whip. Or it simply was a counterbalance for the neck.

There is a 2015 paper by Foth et al that seems to indicate the weaponized use of the tail. They never outright say a sauropod did it, but the Allosaurus in question had damage on it's scapula and all it's ribs on the left side and that it was caused by a sudden traumatic event, such as getting the smackdown from an angry diplodocid. But that's just my opinion. Then again, I also think the whip-cracking would be cool too.

Diplodocus has some other cool features too. It has a single large claw on each front foot that we have no idea what it's used for yet.

It has 15 cervical verts in its neck at least and we have found skin! Look at all the fun patterned skin!

Finally, like all sauropods, it has pneumatic vertebrae. This means they were full of holes that would connect to the respiratory system, just like in birds.

There has been some debate over the years about how Diplodocus and it's relatives would have held it's neck and head. Some believe they could hold it up to browse high branches.

Others believe they didn't have the flexibility and simply help them horizontal to the ground.

Personally, I think it's probably a little of both. It makes the most sense in my head. Why have a long neck if you can't take advantage of the food? Which leads to another debate: could they tripod feed? Meaning, could they rear up and use their tail to as a sort of seat?

It might actually be possible. The base of the tail is incredibly muscular and can take a lot of stress. An important part of feeding is teeth and Diplodocus and fam had some weird teeth compared to other sauropods. They were long and skinny.

I mean, look at these suckers! The wear on said teeth showed that the used unilateral strip-feeding. Ever strip leaves off of a tree branch as a kid with one hand? Yeah, kinda like that but with their mouths instead.

See that vert in the upper righthand corner? That's our diplodocid at the Evil Tree Bonebed site. It's still very much stuck in the ground along with a few friends it's articulated to. If you need something to do this upcoming July, come help us get her out! Check out the link and come join us! The more hands we get, the more stuff we can pull out!

[xyhuaqiang]

“My dear Sir. We are Omani. We hope to build an organic fertilizer plant in Oman with an annual capacity of 20,000 tons. We have looked over your company profile carefully. It fully meets our requirements. It is informative and impressive. We have a complete technology-commercial proposal of 20,000 tons per year, approved by the relevant authorities in Oman, and we are really positive that we have enough land here to start a plant as early as possible."

Omani customers have shown great interest in obtaining more high-value information about the online product of complete organic fertilizers with an annual output of 20,000 tons. A 3-5 ton/hour production equipment with an annual production time of 6000 hours can fully meet this production demand. What Equipment Does the 3-5T/H Complete Organic Fertilizer Plant Exactly Include?

We know about organic raw materials, for example, animal manure, soybean waste, organic municipal waste, agricultural waste, food waste, etc. We serve different customers in different regions. What we can ascertain, however, is that the technological processes of organic fertilizers remain consistent in nature and differ in secondary aspects. This 20,000 ton/year fertilizer production plant includes: 1. Windrow Compost Turning Machine

Windrow Compost Turning Machine are used to control and mix materials to maintain proper moisture and aeration conditions.

Working process: The organic material is laid into strips, and the organic material is above the compost stacking machine. If your material is mostly animal manure, pay attention to the C/N ratio, add green waste, balance the ratio at 30:1 or 25:1, and regularly (2-3 times a day) flip the organic material. Frequent rollover will help speed up the composting process.

2. Horizontal Ribbon Mixer

Two sets of Horizontal Ribbon Mixer were installed in the production workshop to provide even mixing. As we all know, almost any organic material is suitable for composting, and a compost pile requires a suitable ratio of carbon-rich to nitrogen-rich materials. That is, organic materials used for composting should include a mixture of brown organic materials (dead leaves, branches, manure, etc., providing carbon) and green organic materials (lawn mowing, fruit peels, etc., providing nitrogen). Therefore, horizontal mixer becomes inevitable. It can also be used to mix fertilizer components in inorganic fertilizer production. 3. Organic fertilizer granulator

In this organic fertilizer production plant, compost is converted to a more useful form by granulation. The organic fertilizer particles pelleted by wet granulator (Rotary Drum Granulator) are spherical and suitable for commercial use. Adopt the latest humanized mechanical design, energy saving and consumption reduction, easy to operate. To achieve material granulation process in a reasonable and thorough way. The whole production process is smooth, simple and environmentally friendly.

4. Rotary Dryer Machine

Rotary Dryer Machine are used to reduce the moisture content of particles and improve their stability for storage and transportation.

5. After the organic fertilizer is dried, the particles are quickly cooled to room temperature by using a Rotary Cooler Machine at a high temperature of 70.80 ° C. 3-5T/H complete fertilizer production line, installed behind the dryer, can be continuously produced.

6. Rotary Screening Machine

The line is equipped with a well-performing roller screen machine to obtain the organic fertilizer particles of the desired size and to remove the product particle size. The large fertilizer is re-crushed by the chain grinder and recycled into pelleting together with the small size organic fertilizer, and the organic fertilizer with uniform particles will be further transported to the pellet fertilizer packing machine (including single scale, double scale, ton package, etc.) for bulk bagging and sale.

Why do we Recommend you Choose this 3-5T/H Organic Fertilizer Production Line?

From raw material crushing, composting, mixing, granulation, drying, cooling, screening, packaging and all the necessary processing equipment to form a complete production line. All fertilizer equipment is placed/installed in the proper location and in the correct operation sequence to maintain continuous, efficient production.

The company is a medium-sized production plant with an annual output of 20,000 tons, which can fully meet investors' demand for small and medium-sized organic fertilizer production. In addition, we provide not only fertilizer production equipment, but also detailed local market analysis and the best advice on how to start a fertilizer business.

All details, such as work videos, photos of factory layout, machine prices, plant costs, and project reports, are well packaged. They can be delivered immediately and directly to your email address.

The demand for organic materials is low in production plants. It can handle organic fertilizer, municipal solid waste, food waste, biogas residue, bagasse, coffee grounds, leaves, vegetable waste, corn husk, household waste, agricultural waste, slaughterhouse waste, etc.

[thelistingteammiami]

Homeowners, Here's Your Maintenance and Safety Checklist for May

After April showers come May, with weather too wonderful to be stuck inside, but just make sure not to spend too much of your time relaxing, but also keep up with your home maintenance and improvements that will prepare your home for the hotter months ahead. Of course, getting it ready for your summer barbecues and outdoor entertaining is also part of the deal. 

Here are a few things you should do for your home in May while enjoying more of the sunshine:

Check your home's electrical system.

May is National Electrical Safety Month, which is the perfect time to check on your home's electrical system. Start your inspection by checking cables, cords, and outlets for damages, as they can cause electrical hazards, especially around water. Replace those that have frayed wires or damage to the outer casing.

Make sure that the power strips throughout your home aren’t overloaded, and double-check that they have a surge protection feature. While you’re at it, replace any extension cords that are being used to power heavy appliances like an AC unit, as these cords aren’t designed to work continuously. Likewise, don’t forget to cover any unused outlets to prevent small children and pets from accidentally shocking themselves. This also helps to keep debris and dust from interfering with the sockets.

Clean and mend your fence.

After the spring rains, your fence might not be looking its best. As the weather becomes more consistent, spend some time outside to touch up your fence. A simple spot cleaning or pressure-washing may be just what it needs to look like new. Also, check for holes or gaps that need attention. And if replacing old rails is a task that's too intimidating for you, call a professional to help out.

Patch cracks on your pathways and walkways.

If you haven't done so, take a closer look at the walkways and pathways on your property, and also those that are leading to and passing by your house. Large cracks and uneven surfaces can pose a hazard to you and your neighbors who walk around the area, so it’s worth taking the time to fix them. If there are cracks or potholes in the sidewalks, it’s best to call your local municipality to report it and see who is responsible for repairs.

Wash the windows.

A pleasant, rain-free day after the pollen eases is the perfect time to wash dirt and grime that accumulated on your exterior windows. Avoid doing this chore on very sunny days or at a time when a window is in direct sunlight, though, as the heat may cause the glass to dry too quickly and cause smears, according to window cleaning experts. Some of the items you need to clean your windows effectively include some warm water, quality dish soap, a non-scratch scrub pad, a sponge or washcloth, and a squeegee. Or best to leave it with the pros if the windows are hard to reach and you're not comfortable working on a ladder.

Have your HVAC serviced.

Before the days start to completely warm up, have your air conditioning system inspected so it will keep you cool through the summer season. There's no denying that repair costs like this can be quite expensive, but it’s well worth it to keep your system running well during the hot months. So set up a schedule and consult a licensed professional to inspect and service your home’s HVAC. If your HVAC system doesn’t already have a programmable thermostat, remember to install one this time around to save money on your cooling bills this summer.

Clean rain gutters and downspouts.

Your home's gutters should be cleaned at least twice a year— yes, not just in the fall but also this spring. This task is necessary to prevent any clogging and drainage issues, especially after April showers and you have evergreens and trees around your property.

Before clearing off debris from your gutters, such as fallen leaves, tree branches, pebbles, and others, make sure you are equipped with a stable and sturdy ladder that can support you. Also, don’t forget to put on gloves and goggles to protect your hands and face.

Get the grill ready.

If you haven't cleaned the grill before stowing it for the winter, now is the time to give it a good scrub so it can go a long way during summer’s outdoor cooking and entertaining. No matter what type of grill you have, check the owner’s manual first for tips and recommendations. But in general, you will need a new or at least a clean wire grill brush, a bucket of soapy water, a soft sponge, and gloves. Cleaning your grill as part of your spring cleaning will not only improve its efficiency but also extend its life expectancy so you can keep enjoying it for the years to come. Now, let the barbecue fun begin!