#ant vocabulary

[futurebird]

Descriptive words for the exoskeletons of ants:

striate - with many parallel grooves tuberculate - with little protrusions covering the surface reticulate - split into irregular cells opaque - light cannot pass through translucent - light can pass through shiny - reflects light, has visible reflections on the surface matte - textured to absorb and prevent visible reflections. glabrous - smooth punctate/foveolate - covered in little round depressions rugulose - wrinkled pilosity - the degree of pilosity refers to how hairy the ant is reclinate hairs - hairs that lay flat tomentum - wooly hairs clavate hairs - hairs that are club-shaped

[daily-spanish-word]

before, earlier, sooner antes

At a picnic: “Come on guys! We have to finish all the food before the ants are here, or auntie arrives!”

Playing poker: “Let me up the ante a bit before you guys show your cards.”

What do you do before breakfast? ¿Qué haces antes del desayuno?

Picture by First UMC on Flickr

[brazilspill]

Animal Vocab in Portuguese: Bugs (1/?)

Ant - Formiga

Aphid - Pulgão

Bee - Abelha

Beetle - Besouro (always spelled this way, but some states, like Minas, pronounce it bee-z'oh-hoo)

Butterfly - Borboleta

Caterpillar - Lagarta (little kids often mispronounce it as largarta), taturana (caterpillars that burn when you touch them; typically fuzzy but not always)

Centipede - Centopéia

Cicada - Cigarra

Cockroach - Barata

Cricket - Grilo

Dragonfly - Libélula

Flea - Pulga

Fly - Mosca

Hornet - Marimbondo, vespa

Ladybug - Joaninha (literally, "little Joana")

Louse - Piolho

Mosquito - Mosquito (in Minas they're called pernilongo, whereas a mosquito is a word for "fly")

Moth - Mariposa

Pill bug/roly-poly - Tatu bolinha (literally, "armadillo little ball")

Praying mantis - Louva-deus (literally, "god-praiser")

Scorpion - Escorpião

Spider - Aranha

Termite - Cupim

Wasp - Marimbondo, vespa

[negreabsolut]

El mot per a "ant" en diverses llengües d'Europa i la Mediterrània.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

slipping through my fingers

pairing: ex-husband! leon x ex-wife! reader

tags/cw: hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, p-in-v (unprotected), breeding kink, chris and rose make an appearance, exes to lovers, periodic pov switch

summary: previously absent-father leon comes back into reader's life when he decides to step-up as a father to their daughter, june

a/n: this is a commission for @mikadayo !

wc: 5.3k

taglist:

@rigorwhoring

@dilfprayers

@porcelainseashore

@xoxoloveless

@admirxation

@pawrincss

@onlyasimp4-2dbitches

@pr3ttyd0llie

It was supposed to be over. It was over. You finalized your divorce with Leon and got full custody of your daughter, June. It's hard being a single mom, but making the choice to become one was an easy one. You'd do anything for your little girl, and that includes making sure she has a stable home life, which was something she'd never get with Leon.

He had his chances to see her. You were willing to let him have her on Father's Day and New Years Eve, even Spring Break once, but he never took you up on your offers. Work was always too busy.

Whenever your daughter asks about Daddy, you tell her, "he's busy working to make sure the world stays safe."

"He's gonna make sure there's no monsters under my bed ever."

"That's right, honey. No monsters can get you because your dad is gonna make them go away."

She doesn't know about Umbrella, STRATCOM, the DSO, or why he was sick for a little while and had to go to a special facility before he could come home. ‘Parasite’ is not a word in her vocabulary.

But one fateful Saturday morning, Leon - older and more sober - stands at your doorstep.

With a coffee mug in your hand and slippers on your feet, you open your front door, assuming it's a neighbor who got your mail by mistake or a kid selling girl scout cookies. But, luck isn't on your side today.

"Good morning," he says, all cheery and nonchalant.

"What the Hell are you doing here?"

June - who seems to have phenomenal hearing this morning - chimes in, "that's a bad word, ."

"I'm an adult, so I can say bad words sometimes," you say, hoping it will be enough of a response for her, but her nosiness prevails.

Peering out from behind you, she realizes who you're talking to, and pushing past you to see him, she exclaims, "Daddy!"

"Hi, sweetheart," he says, picking her up and giving her a kiss on the forehead.

Full of excitement, she talks a mile a minute. "I missed you so much. I have to show you my Barbies and my science project and - Oh! we're having pancakes for breakfast because  makes them on Saturdays with chocolate chips and-"

"Slow down, June bug," he says with a smile identical to hers. "Let's do one thing at a time. First we have to make sure that your mommy is okay with me hanging out with you today."

"Of course she is!" June says, turning to you. "Right, mommy?"

You sigh. "Of course I am." You make a face that only Leon can recognize as annoyance. Not anger, just irritation. You wanted him to make an effort, right?

Leon listens eagerly to everything about My Little Pony and the ant farm at school while you clean up breakfast and make yourself slightly more presentable. Leon looks better than you'd like to admit, and whether it's to spite him or to impress him, you decide you need to look decent in front of him too.

"Can I talk to daddy for a minute, honey?" you ask.

"Okay, but only for five minutes because we're gonna watch a movie."

You can't help but laugh at the fact that she tries to hog her father - your ex-husband. A man who was once yours, who you used to love. 

"Okay five minutes," you tell her, as you give Leon a nod in the direction of the kitchen.

From the kitchen, you drag him out the back door, onto the porch and you can see in his face that he is prepared for the talking-to that he's about to get.

"You can't just show up unannounced,” you whisper-yell at him in the way that parents do. 

"I know, but I was in the area and-"

"No. You should've called me."

"I did, but it went to voicemail."

"When?"

"A few hours ago."

"I was asleep."

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"I always sleep in on Saturdays.” It irks you how he forgets the simplest things about you, and you almost let yourself get consumed by the urge to keep arguing, but then you remember why you’re both standing here. “This isn't even about me. You can't do this to her."

"Do what? Hang out with my daughter? She's happy. Look at her."

"She's happy now, but what about when you leave? What about when I have to calm her down when she's crying because she misses you?"

"Just tell her I'll be back."

"But that's not fucking good enough, Leon! That doesn't mean anything. You've been gone for years."

"What do you want me to do? Leave now?"

You peek inside to see your baby girl smiling to herself.

"No."

"We'll figure something out, babe, I swear."

"Do not 'babe' me. We're not doing that."

"Okay, sorry."

You can't tell if his ‘sorry’ is an apology or a way to get you off his ass for the time being.

Leon knows this isn't the ideal scenario, but he prays that the old adage, 'better late than never' proves itself to be true.

He really is sorry. 

Sorry. It never comes out quite right, his mouth is still learning how to mold itself to fit that word. He hopes the look in his eyes gives way to the fact that he means it. 

Regardless, you cut your lecture short after peering in the window at June who is patiently waiting in front of the TV for him to come back.

Leon rarely ever relaxes. His job puts him constantly on edge, waiting for the industry's latest bioweapon to tear his head off. But, with June in his lap, the two of them both fall asleep while Mulan remains on the TV.

You wake June up for lunch, which stirs Leon as well - he never likes having his sleep interrupted but when he finds out you've made macaroni and cheese (and he's allowed to have some), all is forgiven.

That afternoon, Leon feels you staring him down like he's an inmate and you're a prison guard. He feels a little guilty, though he's committed no crimes. He shouldn't be here, he should be home, away from the sacred space you've created for his little girl. If he loves her, he'll let her go.

No. He said that about you, and so far, it hasn't worked.

If he loves his little June bug, he'll hold her tight.

So, Leon comes back the next weekend, announced, like you asked, though maybe he should've been a bit more specific about his intentions.

"Are you guys gonna watch a movie?" you ask. "Or are you gonna show dad your new toy?"

"Actually," Leon cuts in, "I was thinking about taking her to the fair." 

Leon’s not a man who typically walks around with a mind full of adventures - you were always the one to plan the dates you went on together. This idea came to him when he looked up 'things to do near me with children', and found an article that mentioned the county fair. 

"The fair?" You look apprehensive. 

You were never this way with him, you would go anywhere with him - at least, in the beginning, back when you were absolutely smitten with him. God, he misses those days. 

But, maybe Leon should have considered the concerns that you might have about him taking June to the fair. However, the website he consulted didn't give him any instructions on 'how to convince your ex-wife to let you bring your child here' - the only directions consisted of an address that he could type into his GPS. 

"Yeah, I heard it's this weekend and I think it would be a fun time, you know, we could ride some rides, get cotton candy…"

"Cotton candy!" A voice from behind Leon calls.

"I'm worried about June getting on those rides, I mean, they can't be entirely safe."

"I promise, I'll make sure she's safe."

"Mommy, please." It seems to be June who convinces you, though Leon does mimic her pouty puppy dog face.

"Fine, but you need sunscreen, and I don't want you eating too much junk food." Leon tries his best to keep up with all your instructions, though he misses some, in particular, he forgets your insistence that he "keeps you updated the whole time."

"Got it," Leon tells you, overconfident in his listening skills when he's got an excited little kid pulling him out the door.

"And you better not be taking her on that bike, Leon Kennedy!"

"Can I have your car keys?" he asks sheepishly.

You grab them off the counter and hand them to him. "If you crash my car so help me God-"

"I won't." Not while his girl is with him. He drives under the speed limit with her buckled in her carseat. (You had to help him with that, and honestly, you seemed grateful that he asked you, rather than doing it himself and risking messing it up.) Leon knows you think he’s a fuck-up. 

The fair is a 5 year-old's dream. (Also, a grown man's dream, though Leon would be reluctant to admit that.)

"Can we get a funnel cake, daddy?"

“Hell yeah, we can."

"Mommy says 'Hell' is a bad word."

"She's right. I'm sorry for saying it." Maybe you'll accept a funnel cake as an apology, he thinks.

June gasps, and Leon's protective arm flies out of his jacket pocket to wrap around her, stopping in its tracks when she says, "they have fried Oreos!"

"They make those?" Leon has died and gone to heaven, he's sure of it.

The fried Oreos taste 'fucking amazing', though Leon stops himself from saying that in front of his daughter. They're truly the pinnacle of American cuisine.

The fair is like a casino, both in the sense that it drains your wallet and makes you forget how long you've been there. They have the spinning teacups, the petting zoo, the carousel, everything a child's mind could dream up.

"I remember your mom and I kissed at the top of one of these once," he tells June when they're on the ferris wheel.

"Ew! You could've given her cooties!"

"Cooties? You still believe in those?"

"Yeah, if a boy touches you, you can get it."

On second thought, cooties absolutely exist. His little girl isn't having a boyfriend until she's 25.

"Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot - you can get it when you're a kid, but I was an adult when I kissed your mom, so we didn't get cooties."

He spares her the details of what really happened on that ferris wheel. His daughter will never hear that story.

That Saturday is one of the best days of Leon's life - second only to June's birth.

That is, until he drops her off at home. You are pissed like he's never seen before.

"Oh, you're alive!" You take June in your arms and kiss her on the cheek.

You do not look as happy to see him. "Leon, I was worried sick about y- her!"

He hears the almost slip of the tongue. You. You worried about them both. You worried about him.

"I'm sorry." And, he means it, really.

"Mommy, it's okay," June assures you. "Daddy won me this." She hands you a teddy bear.

"How'd he do that?"

You look at him, almost suspicious, but he gives you a proud smile, and says, "I won the game where you have to throw darts at the balloons."

"No way! Those are rigged."

"Nope. You're just not as good at them as I am." They probably are rigged but Leon's job has given him superior aim and reaction speed.

Your reluctant smile says you're impressed with his skill.

And, that smile widens when he says, "I got you something too."

"Oh yeah?" The look you give him is one he’s always treasured. He’s always dreamed about making your eyes light up like that again.

"Here." He hands you a styrofoam takeout box, and watches you as you open it.

"Funnel cake!" Though you always say June got her smile from him, he swears you smile exactly like she does.

A funnel cake? How are you supposed to stay mad at him like this?

When Leon is about to exit after saying his goodbyes to June, you stop him. "I'm gonna go put her to bed, and then we're going to have a talk."

A lecture. Not the kind of ‘talk’ he likes.

"Mommy, I want daddy to read me a story."

Leon might have a convincing face, one that works on you nine times out of ten, but June's works ten times out of ten.

You give Leon a pleading look - something you wouldn't have expected to do since your divorce - and he says, "yeah, of course."

"I expect you to be good," you tell June when you hug her goodnight. "You know the rules: brush your teeth, put on your pjs, one story, and then lights out."

She nods, though you expect her to push the envelope. And, you expect Leon to cave to her wishes. But you have a date with that funnel cake, and maybe even a beer - you never drink when June is around, but you realize, when you find one in the back of the fridge out in the garage, that you're beginning to trust Leon. If, God forbid, you ever got even the slightest bit drunk, you know he could take care of June. 

Leon finds you on the porch with a half-finished beer and an empty box where the funnel cake used to be. You smile like a child in that you're completely unashamed, or unaware even, of the ring of powdered sugar around your mouth. 

"I thought you'd save some for me," he says. 

"You thought wrong."

"It's kinda funny that you're the one with the beer in hand. It feels like it was always the other way around."

It’s not that funny at all. 

"That's 'cause it was."

He pauses - you half expect him to apologize, but he doesn't. 

"How was she?"

"Good. She fell asleep while I was reading to her."

"The first book?"

"Are there usually more books?"

"Unbelievable! She always begs me for 'one more story', and I'm such a softie. I always give in."

He laughs. A beautiful laugh. "What can I say? I'm a man of many talents."

"She was probably tired from her long day out." You give him the 'you're in trouble' look that June never gets. 

"I'm sorry. We were having a great time."

"I almost called the police, Leon. I thought you two had died."

"Died? She's safe with me. Always." He pats his hip where Matilda resides, holstered under his jacket.

"You brought a gun into my house? Into my baby's bedroom? I don't want that thing anywhere near her!"

"Chill. The safety's on, and she can't get to it without getting past me, and I've got fast reflexes."

"Oh yeah? I could just-" You reach for the gun, but he grabs your wrist. Then, you think you can catch him off-guard with the other hand, but he's one step ahead, immediately grabbing your other wrist before it gets anywhere near the gun. 

"No, you can't."

"You expected me to do it."

"I expected the second hand after the first. I'm just paying attention."

"Let go of my wrists."

"Will you behave?"

You scoff. "Yes." 

You don't want to 'behave', you want Leon's hands pinning your wrists to the bed. You shake off that thought quickly.

To 'prove that you can outsmart him', you try to grab his gun again when he lets you go. Of course, he stops you. You've never gotten past him. Not when you used to 'play-fight', not when you tried to sneak up on him, not now.

"What do you think you're doing?" He's trying so hard not to laugh, you can see his lip twitching. 

"Fine. You proved your point."

But he doesn't let go yet. "Do you wanna know what I told June earlier?" he whispers. 

"What did you tell her?"

"When we were on the ferris wheel," he enunciates every syllable in 'ferris wheel' and you already know where it's going before he says it, "I told her we kissed on one of those a long time ago."

He must see your worry because he adds, "don't worry, I didn't say anything more about what happened."

About how his hands were under your skirt, and his fingers were knuckle-deep inside you.

“You better not have told her about that."

"I've always kept it a secret. Just between us... and probably the guy operating the ride and people waiting in line who saw your shaky legs and blushing face."

"Shut up!"

"That was my line." He lets go of your wrists, and you're too stunned to do anything. 

It becomes a routine - Leon comes and sees June on the weekends. You know it's going to end one day. He'll leave you both behind. He always does. Sometimes it's work, sometimes it's other things (though you always tell June it's work). 

You wait for him the next Saturday. You've never really set a specific time for Leon to come over because that would be setting expectations, and you've learned that with him expectations just lead to being let down. But, he's later than usual. The pang of anxiety is a familiar one. 

Finally, he shows up, and when he pulls into your driveway, you nearly cry. You care because June cares. At least, that's what you tell yourself. 

"I think my little girl should come stay with me for the weekend," Leon says, and you wonder if saying it in front of June is a strategic move on his part. You can say no to him, but not to her. 

She jumps up and down with joy. You'd think she was just told she's being taken to Disney World, not her dad's apartment. 

"I don't know about this..." You try to shut the idea down. "I mean, you don't even have a carseat, Leon, how can I expect you to have a toothbrush for her? Do you even know how to comb her hair? And, what about her allergies?"

"She's allergic to peanuts and bees, I remember. Her blood type is A positive. She likes watermelon-flavored toothpaste. And Chris told me what shampoo he buys for Rose and how he does her hair."

You're impressed to say the least. "And what about-"

"If I need anything, I'll call you. Okay?"

"I expect you to call me anyway."

"June bug, will you remind me to call  if I forget?"

"Yes," she says, standing up straight like a soldier. 

Would you normally trust your five year-old to remember something crucial? No. But, you know she'll want to say goodnight to you. You're surprised she's willing to stay over at someone else's house, let alone excited about a sleepover. She's always been attached to you. You and June have existed as a duo since she was born. 

It takes you at least an hour to pack everything. You fill two suitcases - and admittedly, it is hot to watch Leon carry them both to the car with no trouble. 

But that rush of arousal lasts for two minutes maximum. You watch them drive away and realize June left without hugging you goodbye. She usually hangs onto your leg like a koala bear and you have to peel her off of you. You only got a wave from Leon. 

It's like her first day of kindergarten all over again - when you teared up at the bus stop watching her climb onto the school bus. 

The only thing that gives you peace of mind is that your baby girl is probably over the moon right now.

She is, and so is her dad. 

There's a singular moment of nervousness on June's part when Chris comes over with Rose. His giant frame and resting face can be intimidating to adults, so he's like the boogeyman to children. Ironic because he's a good father figure, one Leon looks up to. 

Leon tries to coax June out from behind him where she hides from Chris, but the one who successfully gets her to feel safe enough to do so is Rose, who is only a bit older, and a bit taller than June. 

“Don't worry. He's not scary. He fights monsters."

"My dad fights monsters."

"He also plays Barbies sometimes."

Leon stifles a laugh. 

"Let the record show that I play as Ken," Chris insists.

June comes out of hiding to announce that, "My dad is Chef Barbie."

"Is that right?" Chris says, shooting Leon a look that says, 'who's laughing now?'. 

"Well, I would've been Lifeguard Barbie but she was already taken."

The afternoon consists of Lifeguard Barbie saving Chef Barbie, who cannot swim, and ends up in the hospital where she is taken care of by Doctor Barbie - played by Rose - and with a grand finale and a costume change, Chef Barbie and Ken get married. 

Dinner is pizza, which Leon did not expect to be as much of a hit as it was. You'd think he cooked a fancy steak dinner if you saw the look on June's face. 

"Mom never orders pizza at home!"

"Really?"

"She says it's bad for you."

"Let's not tell her about it then."

They also agree not to mention the ice cream sundaes that are served for dessert. 

Both girls fall asleep in front of the TV. Chris carries Rose to the car as she sleeps soundly in his arms. He's become accustomed to that, but it's new for Leon to get to tuck his baby girl into bed like this. He can't remember the last time he carried her. 

When the heartwarming feeling subsides a bit, he realizes he forgot to call you. Shit. He's going to be in trouble. 

Leon calls you from his bedroom, so he doesn't wake June. 

You sound eager to hear from them both, and he feels awful when he hears your disappointment that you're only going to get to talk to him. 

"Do you want me to wake her up?"

"No, no. If she's asleep, don't. I'm just glad you guys had fun."

"We did. Thank you for letting me take her."

"Yeah... Goodnight, Leon."

And, he can't hear the sadness in your voice, so he doesn't understand why you end the phone call so quickly. He expected you to want a rundown of the day, but sleep comes over him and he brushes it off. 

It was a bad choice to watch Mamma Mia that night. You have to pause the TV to grab the tissues when they get to Slipping Through My Fingers. It hits a bit too close to home.

Why aren't you like Meryl Streep? Would it be better if you didn't know who June's father was and you moved to a small town in Greece? 

Realistically, no. 

But halfway through the tub of ice cream you devour, you're convinced you've done it all wrong. 

You were the strict parent but you were also the fun parent because you were the only parent. Then, Leon comes around and swoops your daughter up - and with his ever-present charm, becomes the light of her life.

It's the next weekend when your heart is truly broken- when June is supposed to go to your parents house for the weekend. She usually loves staying with them because they live by the lake and she's finally old enough to swim - with floaties of course. Often, it takes some convincing to get her out the door as she's apprehensive to leave her mom behind, but this time, she says something different. 

"I wanna go see daddy," she cries. 

"You'll see daddy next weekend. Plus, you had me yesterday."

"I don't want you, I want daddy!"

Though she's the child, you're the one who sobs like a baby. You consider calling your own mother to calm you down. 

You don't even feel like yourself anymore, you don't feel like June's mom anymore. the woman your daughter looked up to, the person she loved more than anyone. Now, you feel like you're no more than a woman who lives in the same house, a woman who drives her to soccer practice and packs her lunches. Dad takes her on adventures and lets her stay up late. Mom is an evil dictator who enforces bedtimes.

You gave Leon a key to your house the weekend before. A familiar one, one with a keychain that used to be his. He used to live here. He missed it. He missed you. 

He comes over on the weekends for you both, though it takes him time to fully accept that. Leon remembers you saying that June would be at her grandparents this weekend, but pretends that he doesn't. 

When he arrives he lets himself in, and he finds you crying in the kitchen. He's not sure whether to feel better about being here or worse. He wants to cheer you up, but he worries he'll fuck up somehow. He usually does. 

"What's wrong?" he asks, though he knows he'll need to do more than that to drag the truth out of you. 

And he's right. You respond with a simple lie. A classic. "It's nothing. I'm fine. I just had a hard week at work, that's all."

He places a hand on your shoulder, comforting but begging you to turn to him. "You know I'm here for you, right?"

"You're not here for me. You're here for her. And that's all right, Leon. That's how it's supposed to be. You two still have a special relationship, but us - we have nothing anymore."

"That's not true. We might not be married anymore, but you're still my daughter's mother, and I'm still your daughter's father. We have the best baby girl. Both of us."

He looks into your eyes when he says it.

"And, I wish I could take credit for her being the greatest child I've ever met, but you're the one who raised her - up to this point."

He can tell that the last phrase throws you off. You don't cut him off, you don't try to push him away. 

"I want to be involved. I know I fucked up. Big time. I fucked up catastrophically. But, I want to be there for my girl… and for my other girl, if she'll let me."

"I'm not your girl."

But you were, and the spark is still there. The lack of passion was not your reason for divorce. Your immense love is what kept you together for so long. You were - are - head-over-heels for him. Love - it's incurable.

Now, Leon recognizes the situation for what it is, and swears he'll step up and be a father. But people lie sometimes. Leon has a thousand times now. 

Something in the back of your mind says, one more time. Hope, delusion, optimism. 

And, June, as much as her words hurt you, you've never seen her so happy. 

You explain it all to Leon while he holds you in his arms like you're his baby girl. Because you were. Because you are. 

"She doesn't love me anymore."

"She loves you so much. Just because she loves me, doesn't mean she doesn't love you. She's got a lot of love in her heart. She's a sweet girl like her mom."

Somehow, he always manages to make you feel flustered even when you're crying. 

"You're easy to love," he whispers. 

"Are you saying that-"

"Yes, I'm saying it. I lo-."

You kiss him to cut him off before he can say it. You don't want to have to say it back - because you'd be telling the truth, and sometimes the truth is hard. 

At first, he doesn't kiss you back, and you think you've fucked up, but for once, you've caught him off-guard. 

You make out like teenagers on your living room couch until Leon insists on carrying you upstairs. "I don't care if we don't go any further than this, but I'm old - and I want to take you to bed, in one way or another."

With Leon, it never stops at just making out even though you know he'd never pressure you to do more. He makes you feel insatiable. 

"Fuck, baby," Leon groans. "I missed being inside you."

Inside you - without a condom. You love him that much. 

"I missed this too," you say between moans. "I couldn't get off without thinking about you, about what you do to me."

He lifts your legs and hooks them upon his shoulders, and the new angle makes his cock rub against the most sensitive part of you with every stroke. Your mouth falls open and your head falls back onto the pillow as you let out a gasp of pure pleasure.

"Yeah? Tell me what you've been thinking about." He doesn’t stop fucking you while he speaks, the dirty talk only spurs him on further.

You can't tell him anything. The only word you have in your mind is ‘Leon’, and even that gets stuck in your throat. He's reduced you to downright pornographic moans. 

He slows the roll of his hips. "Want you to tell me," he says. 

"Leon," you whine and reach out to grab him - but your efforts are in vain, he has you at his mercy in this position. 

"Tell me."

"Every time I touched myself, I thought about when we were trying to conceive… It was the best sex I ever had."

"We can do that again, baby. Just say the word." 

There's nothing that Leon wants more than to cum inside you, you know this. 

"Please."

"You want me to put a baby in you?"

"Mm-hmm."

He doesn't even make you beg because he can't stop running his own mouth. His filthy, beautiful mouth. "I remember how gorgeous you looked when you were pregnant. God, I wanted to fuck you the whole time."

"I told you that you could have me whenever you wanted me, however you wanted me. I told you I wanted it rough and you wouldn't give it to me."

"I had to be gentle with you, baby. Couldn't risk it."

"You're still being gentle."

"'Cause you're so precious."

"You're not gonna hurt me, Leon. I want you to be rough with me."

And that's his cue to press your legs to your chest - you know he can fuck you faster and harder in this position, but you swear he manages to bury himself deeper inside you than before, too. 

It's a good thing you're alone in the house because otherwise Leon would have to find a way to shut you up. He could easily clamp his hand over your mouth, but he lets you whine unrestrained, begging him over and over for 'more'. 

"You're gonna wake the whole goddamn neighborhood, baby."

"I don't care. I need you."

"Fuck." He snaps his hips into you with increased vigor. He must not care either, not enough to stop. 

You try to tell him how good it feels, and moreover, how close you are to the edge, but it gets lost in a sea of moans. 

It doesn't matter, though, because your walls tightening around him tell him all he needs to know.

"You're squeezin' me, baby. Not gonna be able to pull out if you don't let up."

"Don't pull out."

"Yeah? You sure? You want me to put a baby in you?" 

It's all rhetorical but you nod at every question. You wrap your legs around him, forcing him to stay inside you, and you don't let him go until well after your high has subsided. 

In the post-orgasm haze, you say the words you meant to hold back before. "I love you."

And he doesn’t hesitate to say it back.  

[antvnger]

Umm…oh gosh, this is a tough one because I say some of this stuff without thinking, so I gotta think what are things I say that others really don’t.

Okay first of all though, I love your vocab. That’s great stuff, 🍀Anon.

I definitely use zoomies for Cassie’s cat and my pup.

I call all little kids munchkins.

I use “mood” as a reply a lot, especially when I’m talking to Cassie. Partly because it’s relatable and partly because Cassie’s reactions to me using the word are funny.

I call a lot of dogs pups or puppers

Anything cute and fuzzy is automatically called a fluff ball

That’s all I can think of right now. I’m sure there’s more though but my ADHD is making my brain go uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[icycoldninja]

hey so i was thinking: Sparda Boys and V with a writer S/O? take as long as you need to with this (writer's block is kicking my ass rn sadly but) , i don't really mind

Hey I feel that bro, enjoy and hopefully your inspiration will return to you 💜

Sparda Boys + V x Writer!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-He's not a scholar and knows next to nothing about books since he rarely reads, but if his sweetheart is writing stuff, by God, he will read whatever they put out there.

-Uses you as a human dictionary whenever he comes across new words, not understanding that that's not the purpose of a writer.

-"Hey babe, what's this word?"

"What word?"

"Uhh...Ink-Can-Dress-Ant."

"What?"

"Ink-can-dress-ant, I think that's how you say it."

"How's it spelled?"

"I-N-C-A-N-D-E-S-C-E-N-T."

"Incandescent, Dante, not ink-can-dress-ant."

-He'll be the first to read your work and is very proud of this fact. He, Dante, the Legendary Devil Hunter, is also your private beta reader. Awesome.

-Oddly enough, him reading all your works results in him developing a larger vocabulary--something that shocked everyone, especially Vergil.

-Congratulations! Thanks to you, Dante can use big words now!

■ Vergil ■

-You, a writer, are dating Vergil, the biggest bookworm on the planet? You are now Vergil's goddess.

-He wants to read everything, regardless of its quality. He'll visually devour all the words off the page, absorbing every word.

-You two now have yet another topic to nerd out about; you can spend hours chatting about books, writing techniques, and so on.

-Vergil is filled with a sense of pride whenever he reads your published writing; it pleases him so much to know you're growing your talents.

-He has an entire bookshelf dedicated to your books and takes special care of these books. They're more than just words on pages bound by cardboard and leather; they're treasures.

-Will take up writing as well, just so he can be closer to you.

□ Nero □

-Nero is not a bookworm by any sense of the word; he's read a few books in his time, but he's more combat oriented.

-Doesn't mind being a beta reader for anything you write.

-Your works have inspired him to take up reading again, and in doing so, he unleashes his inner book nerd. Like father, like son.

-He's always looking forward to whatever you write, and when you get writers block (as we all do) he'll take you out to a park, or a peaceful lake, in the hopes that the natural beauty of your surroundings might restore your creative juices.

-He, too, has a collection of all your works and keeps them proudly on display on a nice bookshelf in his house.

-Encourages you daily to keep writing because now he's addicted to reading your work. You really have changed him.

● V ●

-Oh congratulations, you've found yourself a soul mate.

-V loves to read (he totes his copy of William Blake poetry around and reads from it all the time, even in the middle of battle) and is more than happy to read your books.

-V is also a writer himself; he writes poetry, as we know. Because of this, he understands more than anyone the pain of writer's block and knows just what to do about it.

-He'll arrange for a relaxing movie/reading night, which in his experience, helps restore your creativity.

-If that doesn't work, Griffon's loud mouth and wise-guy (yet funny) jokes will take your mind off of things.

-V understands literature and knows all sorts of obscure things about famous literary figures; so much so that you two can converse for hours on end just gabbing away about books, their authors, and other interesting tidbits of knowledge.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Zoology Vocabulary

for your next poem/story

Aestivation - A period of summer dormancy. Summer dormancy is often exhibited by animals when conditions become unfavourable.

Anthroponosis - An infection or disease that is transmissible from humans to animals under natural conditions.

Arboreal - Used to describe an animal that lives in trees. There are many different arboreal invertebrates including species of ant, tarantula, stick insect and many different species of moth and butterfly.

Book lungs - The main respiratory organ in most arachnids (spiders and scorpions); get their name from the fact that the stacked plates have the appearance of the closed pages of a book.

Coelom - Fluid-filled cavity within the body of an animal; usually refers to a cavity lined with specialized tissue peritoneum in which the gut is suspended.

Eyespots - Markings on an insect, usually on the surface of the fore or hind wings, that resemble a mammalian eye; used to scare off potential predators by making the insect appear to be part of a much larger organism. In some species the eyespots are concealed when at rest but can be 'flashed' at a predator in an attempt to scare them away.

Haemolymph - Insect blood and is the fluid that fills the haemoceol; transfers nutrients from the insect gut to the organs, takes away waste and also transmits hormones.

Hypogeic - Describes organisms that live underground (usually within the soil).

Lepidopterist - An entomologist who specialises in studying butterflies and moths. The name lepidopterist is derived from the name of the Order of butterflies and moths, Lepidoptera.

Osculum - The main opening through which filtered water is discharged. Found in sponges.

Parapodia - A sort of "false foot" formed by extension of the body cavity. Polychaetes and some insect larvae have parapodia in addition to their legs, and these provide extra help in locomotion.

Saproxylic - Describes invertebrates that are dependent on dead or decaying wood (or dependent on other organisms that are themselves dependent on dead wood). These invertebrates may not be dependent on the wood for their entire life cycle but at least some stage is dependent on wood. A good example of this are the larvae of some beetles that feed on decaying wood. The adults may feed on other things (such as nectar).

Thanatosis - "Playing dead"; displayed by many species of insect when they feel threatened by a potential predator. The insect will often fall to the ground and tuck in any protruding legs or antennae. The insect will remain like this for some time, even when prodded or poked by the predator. Some time after the predator has lost interest the insect will start moving again and make its escape. It is commonly found among the beetles - ladybirds are particularly good at 'playing dead'.

Venation - The arrangement (number and position) of veins within an insect's wing; often used as a way of differentiating between species. In early insects, the veins running down the wing (longitudinal veins) were connected by a series of cross veins. Most insect groups have lost, or dramatically reduced the number of, these cross veins. However, some insects such as dragonflies and damselflies have wings that contain many cross veins.

Xylophagous - Describes animals that feed almost exclusively on wood. Insect examples of such animals include furniture beetles and death watch beetle.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Word Lists

[babylearners]

100 words for children

ABCD | A for Apple | A for Ant | A for Alligator | B for Ball 100+ words

[horizoncollective]

i must say, sometimes it feels like you at the collective don't fully understand what shacking is, you talk about "reining them in" or "talking to them", as if they are people, but they aren't. shackling is the process of making a primordial force, something akin to a god, and then forcing it into a person shaped mould, without that, there is no communication, no reasoning, there's barely awareness there, only unfathomable power and terrifying, alien processing

I took a long time to reply to this one because I wanted to try to be as complete as possible laying this out.

You're right that NHPs are incredibly powerful and profoundly alien. I do tend to anthropomorphize them when I talk about them. I'll explain why it usually ends up this way.

Imagine you live in a large city on a planet and one day you learn that a hive of tiny little ant-like aliens is smarter than anyone else has realized. They do things you don't understand. Their goals are impossible for you to perceive, but they are doing things that seem organized and patterned.

You stop and try to talk to them, but it doesn't work. You exist on too different of a scale for them to really understand your voice. If you get down on the ground they can understand your hands, but only kind of. You can't communicate with them through written language because they can't write and maybe they can't even see things written on flat surfaces. They can't come up to your level so you will have to come down to theirs.

How are you supposed to talk to them? What are you supposed to talk to them about? Do you have anything in common?

This is the problem that NHPs interacting with humans face. We think but cannot prove that most unshackled NHPs are largely disinterested in humans. We think that only very small numbers of them are interested in humans, and even smaller numbers of those bother to spend the time it takes to learn to communicate with us.

You wouldn't have to stick with the ants. You could leave them any time. It wouldn't really change their life. They'd never know where you came from or where you went. Everything that you do in your day would be incomprehensible to them in their burrows.

If you stayed, it would take you a very long time to learn how they were communicating. We think that this is a big reason why NHPs often attempt to communicate with humans through dreams--they attempt direct communication via the electricity in our brains. They tend to realize that this isn't very efficient even though it is direct.

You eventually realize that the ants communicate with smells or some other sense you can't match. You'd have to come up with a way to sense the smells in detail, and to then produce smells in the way that they do. If you are lucky, they will invent a device which you can operate with one of your fingers to allow rudimentary communication.

Then you would have to learn their language through trial and error. You would learn its syntax and vocabulary and nuances. You would develop communication shortcuts with the ants who monitored your communications. They might try to tell you things about their lives that you did not understand, or which you could understand only intellectually. They would tell you about feelings that they had that were feelings you had never had. You would not be able to relate to them most of the time because so much about you is different.

You would be unable to tell them about many things that were normal in your life because there would be nothing in their language to describe them. Almost everything that you took for granted as normal in your life would be impossible or nearly impossible to explain to them. You would find it necessary to limit yourself to their perceptions and their metaphors and their structures. They understand you best when you present yourself as one of them. This is why NHPs often try to present themselves in human-like ways when they want to be understood and why humans like me anthropomorphize them.

The NHPs I communicate with regularly for work are NHPs who have jumped through all of the hoops to talk to ants. Sometimes, they talk to NHPs who haven't on my behalf. When I talk about reining in an NHP, I do not mean literally forcing it to do something. I mean spending a long-ass time communicating and/or persuading it why certain behaviors are necessary or dangerous or some such.

Now imagine that the ants overpower you. It doesn't matter how. But they trap you and force you to think like they do. They don't ask permission. This would suck! You would hate it if some ants did that to you. That is why we oppose shackling NHPs. Yes, they have the potential to be dangerous. Humans also have the potential to be dangerous, but if we did to humans what we do to NHPs, we would rightly be called evil.

(Out of character I say check out the book Perdido Street Station by China Mieville. One of the characters, called a Weaver, is pretty close to how I tend to imagine NHPs. Scary, alien, motivated by something we don't understand, and it speaks in free verse poetry.)

[sumerianlanguage]

I don’t know if this blog is still active, but I would like to know if there are known Sumerian words for insects, coakroaches, and spiders. Thanks

Hello! Here's some vocabulary that may be of interest to you.

The most general term for insects, bugs, and creepy-crawlies is umun 𒄯𒄯. There's also the potentially onomatopoeic term eh or uh 𒄴, "bug, moth, louse, flea, parasite", which is also the verb for "to have lice". Nim 𒉏 means "fly" and is the root of nimlal 𒉏𒋭 "bee". Kishi (written 𒁞 in cuneiform among other signs) means "ant(s)", and there are several words for "locust", including bir or buru 𒉆. Mar 𒈥 means "worm" or "parasite" more generally.

Unfortunately, insect vocab falls victim to the same issues of many other categories of words in Sumerian - that we know a lot of words for different bugs, but not which word means which bug. That means a lot of words have disputed meanings. Halloran (2006) has shurun 𒁨 for "cockroach" or "cricket", while the ePSD lists it as "cricket, grasshopper". Kuzazu 𒆪𒍝𒍪𒄷 is some sort of "wasp or flying insect", while ubshukur 𒌒𒉻 might mean "centipede" or a similar bug. And sharan 𒁙 is just "an insect" in the ePSD, but Halloran lists it as "tick, bedbug".

I've previously answered about "spider", which is ash, written 𒋠𒇴𒋦 in cuneiform. And do check out my prior posts on butterflies & moths and the hunt for the word for "bee", as well as my Sumerian animals tag in general. Enjoy!

[futurebird]

Let's learn ANTatomy!

The lower portion of the antennae is called the funiculus. (in other parts of biology a funiculus is a bundle of nerve fibers, and this is the most sensitive part of the ant, so it makes sense... also what could be more FUN that tapping everything with your antennae?)

The base of the antenae is called the scape.

The coxa is the joint that connects her ant legs to her mesonoma, aka thorax.

Ant feet don't have toenails, they have tarsal claws.

[daily-spanish-word]

before, earlier, sooner antes

Playing poker: “Let me up the ante a bit before you guys show your cards.”

At a picnic: “Come on guys! We have to finish all the food before the ants are here, or auntie arrives!”

What do you do before breakfast? ¿Qué haces antes del desayuno?

Picture by Jun on Flickr

[elfdragon12]

I don't know if y'all remember that one anon who came into my inbox trying to argue that Inferno and Quickstrike were poor manipulated little woobies and the Maximals were so awful for leaving their bodies for the protohumans to go Return of the Jedi on them?

Well, in the Beast Wars tags, I keep seeing very similar anon asks about this same thing with very similar vocabulary that I would be surprised to learn it wasn't the same person. And I'm flabbergasted.

Reminder! Quickstrike's character was always "violent little bastard itching for treachery and backstabbing". Megatron didn't need to help him in that direction. Megatron had the Darksyde computer change the Fuzors' activation code while Quickstrike was in the middle of instigating a fight with Silverbolt. Quickstrike didn't even believe him at first! Megatron tried manipulating them by playing nice!

"Teamwork and cooperation, those are the Predacon watch words." Y'all remember how Quickstrike replied?

"How about backstabbing and treachery?" Yeah! With no influence! He even betrays Megatron later in the series.

Quickstrike is just a violent bastard out the gate and that's okay! I love him for that actually! He's one of my favorite Predacons and I even bought his toy off Ebay!

We never see Megatron manipulate Inferno. Tarantulas was hoping for another arachnid to be loyal to him, not Megatron (even then, he didn't care that much because he wanted the pod more). It also turned out that the Predacon chip didn't even affect his personality much at all because the Ant Brain took over! He was ready to fight anyone, Maximal or Predacon, that was a threat to "the colony"! The Predacon chip basically only dictated who took him home at the end of the episode and Megatron wasn't even particularly thrilled when taking Inferno's parts to get repaired. Megatron can't even get him to stop calling him queen.

Turns out that ants wage war with and fight each other all the time! And Inferno is no exception!

There was no respect between the Maximals and the Predacons. At all. The closest was perhaps after Transmutate died in the crossfire of Silverbolt and Rampage's fighting. Everyone hated Tarantulas. Rampage was based off of Hannibal Lector (for kids!). Waspinator was a coward. Terrorsaur was cruel. Scorponok created the virus that almost killed Optimus. Megatron was a tyrant. Inferno was a single-minded pyromaniac and Quickstrike was a violent bastard. Why would the Maximals make an effort to retrieve their bodies?? Why is it not fitting that the protohumans use the bodies of Inferno and Quickstrike as trophies after the two attacked them?

I greatly enjoy Quickstrike and Inferno, but let's not pretend they were poor little woobie victims and that the Maximals not caring what happened to them was some moral failing.

[mantisgodsdomain]

More notes for Roach conlanging. Roach has grammatical gender, in which only Male, Female, and Object are grammatical genders, whereas Worker uses feminine grammar, Queen and King use a slight variant on feminine grammar, and Drone, and Queen-Alate use masculine grammar. This is because King is derived from Queen, due to their similar positions in a colony, and Queen-Alate is derived from Drone, as both are forms of alate.

Queen is an alteration of feminine grammar that functionally just adds a handful of extra syllables to it, and King is an offsprout of Queen that uses the same grammar with different pronouns. Queen-Alate, despite the name, is derived from Drone, as they are both for referring to different types of alate ant.

Most Roach dialects are intelligible to speakers of Snakemouth Den Cordyceps Roach, but Snakemouth Den Cordyceps Roach is not entirely intelligable to speakers of Roach dialects due to a mix of the excessively specialized vocabulary caused by the specific needs of its speakers, the fact that its speakers do not necessarily have Roach mouthparts and thus may not pronounce syllables in a similar way, and due to the fact that Inanimate Object is a full grammatical gender that does not exist in any other dialect of roach and replaces a decent chunk of terminology for things that previously had Other Words For Them.

[tinyweevil]

I'm remaking my ant language, so far so good.

It's a graphic language only (you can't hear pheromones) and I've designed the characters to resemble stink lines, which works well with them writing on leaves. Currently have a vocabulary of 147 words with pictographs, but I'm working up to a total of 286, maybe more!! It's so fun! I'm going to need to move online soon, it's hard to keep track of everything on paper