#lion's mane for sale

[chirp-a-chirp]

Ikepri: Chibi Pet Shop

Emma: One Leon please! *Holds Leon lion chibi tenderly in her arms*

Sales Clerk: Ah, a classic choice. Can I interest you in other chibi selections?

Emma: Oh no, I love my Leon, he’s—wait, what’s that? *Ears perk at nearby loud barking*

Sales Clerk: Hmm, the dogs are fighting again. *The Rio beagle and Silvio Dalmatian chibis circle each other, growling*

Emma: Shouldn’t you stop them?

Sales Clerk: Oh, they LOVE each other! *Silvio has Rio in a headlock, Rio whimpering and yelling “OW ARF OW!”*

Sales Clerk: You know, Silvio comes with a bejeweled collar. Included with purchase.

Emma: No thanks. One Leon please. *Lion Leon nuzzles Emma’s hand affectionately*

Sales Clerk: You like affectionate pets? Jin the Eagle would be wonderful!

*A green cloth materializes out of nowhere from Leon. He covers Emma’s chest protectively while shaking his head*

Emma: Aw, thanks Leon! I was getting kinda cold here!

Sales Clerk: Man, where does that lion keeping finding those green flags?

Emma: Anyways…Eagles are very majestic and awesome but they’re not my thing. Plus, you know, talons aren’t exactly cuddly.

Sales Clerk: You like cuddly? How about cats?

Emma: You mean like the LION here in my arms?

Sales Clerk: *Ignores Emma’s comment* Now where’s that sweet little Yves kitty I can show you….Here kitty, kitty, kitty…

*Sales Clerk walks around the store and nearly falls into a gapping hole in the ground. A cat hisses from the bottom of the pit, tail bristling. Licht the wolf is also in the pit, silently watching Yves*

Sales Clerk: CLAVIS! *A pair of golden eyes glow from atop a cabinet. The purple leopard smiles and flees, laughing*

Sales Clerk: Umm, do you like troublemakers? That leopard comes with a set of nets and shovels too, free of charge.

*Leon Lion jumps out of Emma’s arms and ties a number of green flags end to end into a makeshift rope. Yves kitty and Licht wolf climb up and walk away. Emma crouches down to pick the Lion back up, ruffling his mane*

Emma: I’m sure that leopard’s GREAT and all but—

Sales Clerk: TIGERS. We got premier tigers. Cream of the crop. VERY popular. Look at this white tiger! *Points to a majestic Chevalier tiger chibi, elegantly sitting in a chair reading*

Sales Clerk: And this tiger has EXTENSIVE documentation on his background and where he came from. Very detailed and thorough.

Emma: Yeah, I meant to ask about documentation. See, Leon only has a single page with the word “ROAR” on it. Do you have ANYTHING else regarding his background? Lore?

Sales Clerk: He’s a Lion.

Emma: How about what he likes?

Sales Clerk: Of course! *Hands Emma a single paper with “MEAT” on it*

Emma: Seriously?

*A black Tiger chibi with an eye patch slinks next to Emma. He puts something in Emma’s hand, grinning*

Sales Clerk: Oh, Gil LIKES you!

Emma: Ummm, this tiger just handed me a piece of paper with my address, last three jobs, and a list of all my allergies and food preferences. Has he been following me?!

Sales Clerk: He REALLY likes you!

Emma: Good for him! But I want—

Sales Clerk: Foxes? Snakes? How about a nice stag?

Emma: I don’t get it. Leon’s your poster boy. He’s LITERATELY on a poster on your front door. Why are you trying to get me to prefer other chibis?

Sales Clerk: *Blinks*

Sales Clerk: So, can I interest you in Gil—

Emma: NO! No eyepatches, no puppy butlers, no lone wolves, no tricks or traps! No blushy tsunderes, no salty dogs, no cold beasts!

Emma: ONE. LEON. PLEASE.

Sales Clerk: OK FINE.

Emma: THANK YOU.

*Sales clerk rings up purchase*

Sales Clerk: Oh, here’s your complementary bag of green flags. Leon goes through a lot of them.

[safarigirlsp]

Satan Wears Burberry

Satan Wears Burberry

Modern Jacques Le Gris x Reader

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Humor. Romance. Enemies to Lovers. Fur.

AO3 Link

Author’s Note: For a Valentine's Day special, and as a gift for the lovely and wonderfully talented @kyloremus , here is a fun bitchy Fashion AU inspired by Cruella DeVille and The Devil Wears Prada! This is only the intro, if it is well received, I'll do more with it. There’s not even any murder or mayhem! What’s wrong with me?

Fashion is a viciously cutthroat industry where appearance and manipulation often win over sincerity and benevolence. Weapons of choice are razored nails, deadly heels, and backstabbing smiles. Everyone who is anyone and all the someones aspiring to be something in the fashion industry know there is no event more seminal than Paris Fashion Week. Statuesque models strutting runways, aggressive designers gauging their competition, and hawkish agents scouting new talent can all be found amid the crowds and press.

As the Editor in Chief of Annees Folles Magazine, your front row seat at every event was reserved. This season, Annees Folles had even surpassed Vogue in sales and influence. Before anything became fashion, it had to receive your stamp of approval and be featured in the pages of your magazine. Brands rose and fell pursuant to your approval or condemnation just like a gladiator’s life dependent upon the tilt of an emperor’s thumb. Among the other more illustrious attendees, were the heads of the most preeminent fashion lines in the world, the CEOs and moguls whose names had forged the foundation of modern fashion.

La Maison Gris, a relatively new brand from an old and noble French family, had made a meteoric rise to the very summit of the industry. Helmed by its formidable and charismatic CEO, Jacques Le Gris, La Maison Gris had firmly secured a position high among the most distinguished names in fashion. Le Gris had fast become synonymous with Chanel, Versace, Lagerfeld, Gucci, Valentino, Tom Ford, Dior, Dolce and Gabbana. Aided in his ascension by his calculating mind, his almost irresistible charm, his devilish good looks and imposing size, Jacques had steamrolled his competition like a tank over protestors.

Jacques Le Gris always dressed to the nines and was dashingly groomed and coiffed, his image immaculately maintained. From a finely tailored bespoke suit that flattered his impressive and athletic 6’4” physique, enhancing the breadth of his great shoulders and the taper of his fit waist, to a simple signet ring bearing his century’s old family crest that drew attention to his enormous hands, he used fashion to emphasize his towering size and noble bearing. He wore a neatly trimmed van dyke, and his thick black hair down to his shoulders. An intentional streak of silver shot through his glossy ebony mane like the milky way shimmering across the night sky, giving him the regal air of a melanistic lion. He was dressed now in pieces from his own line, a charcoal suit with a chic glen plaid pattern, black shirt, unbuttoned down two buttons from his throat, and a black overcoat with a subtle flair of silver Persian lamb around the collar.

Notably broader without exception than everyone in attendance and standing a head taller than most, save for the willowy models, some of whom hoovered near his airspace when in heels, Jacques cut an impressive and unmistakable figure where he stood next to the runway in the dimly lit audience. The room was filled to capacity with the crème de la crème of fashion, interspersed with the journalists and photographers who would relay their chosen highlights to the public. While he waited for the show to begin and the first model to strut down the runway, Jacques discussed his line with anyone who would listen, showcasing his renowned affability. He was cordial where others were aloof, a trait that had helped spur his rise to the top.

Jacques was confident that his spring line that was to be revealed at this show would impress all those in attendance, but still, it never hurt to grease the wheels with a few dashing smiles. He could charm almost anyone into submission, a talent that cut across many different lines of social interaction. Only one major player had remained staunchly immune from his allure, and she unfortunately wielded one of the most important opinions. In fact, it was as though the Editor in Chief of Annees Folles Magazine took pride, a morbid relish even, in eviscerating the designs of La Maison Gris. With each scathing article, La Maison Gris and its profits took a hit and took months to reclimb the ladder from several rungs below. To say Jacques was ruffled by it was an understatement, he was mad as hell. He had yet to meet the woman in person, which he assured himself was the reason he had so far been unable to exert the full magnitude of his charm and magnetism.

The lights dimmed and the music picked up tempo, indicating the show would soon be starting. Jacques was focused on the runway, and didn’t see you approach and squeeze in beside him for a place at the head of the runway. The room was packed as tightly as a nightclub, but filled with an exponentially more beautiful crowd. Jacques recognized you with a visible start, his affable manner momentarily dampened with worry, fear even, at being in the presence of the one woman with the power to unseat him from his high horse. The pen was indeed mightier than the sword when it was you who wielded it, writing the destinies of every hopeful designer in the pages of your magazine.

You were dressed in a Dolce & Gabbana dress of ebony lace that hugged and flattered your shapely curves to perfection paired with a charcoal gray double-breasted Burberry Prorsum coat with military-style epaulets and cuffs. You wore five-inch Burberry heels that, although pointed-toe stilettos, they were fitted with Burberry’s signature lug sole, adding to your combative appearance and reputation. Although it was dark in the room, you wore a pair of aviator sunglasses by Maybach, also in gradients of carbon, that concealed your infamously ferocious eyes. Your hair was elegantly styled and your bearing was as proud as any model on a runway, but your presence was of a military general standing on a battlefield.

The sight of you took Jacques’s breath away. He had never been so taken aback by a woman, so instantly devastated by beauty.

With a deep steadying breath and a visible effort, Jacques composed himself. It was absurd, he reasoned, to be so unnerved by a woman. He was a master at seduction, and what was business but a different kind of seduction? Both involved a degree of manipulation and power plays. Even if Jacques didn’t know how to deal with you as a cutthroat editor who struck fear into the hearts of men, he knew how to deal with a red-blooded woman.

“I think you’ll find the florals are luscious,” he whispered with a smokey depth to his voice. He moved closer beside you until your shoulders brushed, perfectly acceptable in the crowded room.

“Florals? For Spring?” you scoffed. “Groundbreaking.”

“Well… Florals are classics for a reason,” he stumbled at the sharp rebuff. “Spring lines always have florals. It’s what you do with them that matters, is it not?”

“Have you sustained a head injury?” you derided haughtily, turning to look at him briefly over the rims of your sunglasses. “Yes, follow like the little lemmings toward the cliff of the cliché and the mediocre. The market – that is, sellers who have already made you rich -- want to get their winter fashions off the racks. Something inventive, something charming and clean, for example, would sell regardless of the season. Are you marketing to the likes of Kohl’s or Target?” You dismissively returned your attention to the runaway. “Dolce & Gabbana is the only designer who has any business at all dabbling in seasonal florals. Perhaps, an honorable mention to Dior.” Jacques tried to retort, but you steamrolled over him. “But not La Maison Gris, I assure you, and my assurance is the only one that will ever matter.”

This silenced him as he looked away, a strange and foreign mixture of rejection and embarrassment mingling inside him with an all-too familiar anger. He then looked back at you tentatively, feeling hesitant to challenge you.

“Just last spring Vogue raged over my florals,” he stated with a confidence that for once he didn’t feel, his deep voice undercut by an undertone of fear. Because of his size and physicality, deep voice, and wealth, he often unwittingly intimidated people. He was unused to being on the other side of that scale, and he couldn’t recall being so as a grown man. It was a challenge, he realized, and he savored challenges.

“Then, they were novel. Now, they are tired and uninspired,” you sighed as if bored by his simpleness. “Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative -- that’s Oscar Wilde, mind you – and I do believe he had a sense of fashion. He even went to prison for his fashion genius, among other proclivities.”

Jacques’s handsome features broadcast he was ready to retort but thought better of it, chewing his lip instead to bite back the argument that wanted to leap from his tongue. As the first model made her appearance on the runway, the audience applauded, approving of her floral dress with fox trim. He puffed his chest and looked at you as if to say he told you so. The next model wore a lynx shawl over a dress of gold floral brocade.

“Mixing fur and floral, are we? I always thought fur looked best on its original owner.” You studied each ensemble carefully with the eye of a critic. “Models should be comfortable in their own skin, not someone else’s, don’t you think?”

“This line is novel, sleek and vivacious. If you wish to stand out and feel good about yourself, my line is for you,” he huffed and retorted as another model stalked toward you wearing a beautiful lavender dress trimmed with tasteful sable fur in a complimentary dusky hue. The crowd roared in approval. “Nature has evolved to flatter animals of every shape and size. Do you argue that natural evolution shouldn’t be used when one is designing clothes to flatter women?”

You paused at the audience’s enchantment with Jacques’s line. He, too, saw it was a hit and raised one eyebrow at you. The next model wore a sleek aviator jacket with a collar of sheared beaver dyed in a subtle chevron pattern. The crowd actually clapped at that one.

No matter, people often didn’t know what they really liked until you told them.

You gestured for him to lean closer and whispered conspiratorially, “Like I said, the unimaginative masses are easily impressed. They can’t do what I can do: convince the biggest retailers in the world to market your line, and the populace to buy it.”

Jacques took a deep breath, gathered his courage, smiled mischievously, and said with a seductive tenor, “Well, there is more than one way to skin a cat.”

“I suppose you would know,” you quipped as another lynx trimmed ensemble walked past. “Regardless, the details of your incompetence do not interest me.”

“My incompetence?” Jacques huffed. No one else in the world would dare to call him incompetent. But arguing the point with you would get him nowhere. He decided to try a different tactic. “Let us continue this tete-a-tete somewhere more private, and I’ll try to find something about myself that does interest you.”

“Bold of you to assume a ridiculous man like you could please me in any venue. Be assured, I am demanding in my personal life as well as my professional one.” You let your appraising gaze rake over his body. “I want the best. I deserve the best. And I demand the best. In all things and in all ways.”

“My fashion lines may bore you, belle comandante.” Jacques grinned and asserted boldly, “Trust me, as a man, I would make you purr.”

“I have no commitments and I find myself rather bored by Paris, but I’m sure you have a parade of floral harlots vying to charm you into letting them walk your next runway. Who would I be to deprive them of the valuable life lesson in regret they would learn from a night with you?” You eyed another fur-trimmed model skeptically. “Dear God, you’re not into furries are you?”

He said nothing more until the show was over, but a sly lupine smile played on his plush lips. When all the models had walked the runway and the din of conversation filled the room, he made you a darkly illicit offer. “I’ll make a bet with you. If I can make you purr for me, then you will write a splendid review of tonight’s show.”

Removing your sunglasses, you eyed him with unveiled skepticism. “And if I find you are not up to the task of pleasing me?”

“You won’t.” He winked at you.

“Graduating from fashion to prostitution, are you?” You raised a judgmental eyebrow. “I can’t deny it’s a better fit for you.”

“Not publicly.” He grinned at you, flashing a predatory glint of white teeth. “But for you, I will make a one-night-only exception. I’m a gambling man, and what higher stakes could I play with? If I can wring a good review out of you between the sheets, you will write a nice review for my fashion line on the pages of Annees Folles. We’ll enjoy ourselves in the process, that I promise you, cherie.”

“It is an interesting thought.” You smiled. “To wonder what I will find worthy of review. The before or the after?”

“Yes, I agree,” he boomed loud enough for everyone to hear. You had heard he was a showman and viciously sarcastic. “You know why failed designers become harping editors of fashion magazines? It’s a petty facet of human nature that we feel the need to tear apart others who have talents one does not.”

“Is that what you think?” you laughed at the absurdity, meeting his challenge and projecting your voice. “Designers are many. On the other hand, people who dictate the tides of fashion and control the very destinies of men like you are few. The truth is, no one can do what I can do.”

“It must be lonely at the top for a maneater like you,” Jacques teased, his voice low again. “Who keeps you warm at night?”

“Renew your offer at the end of the evening,” you replied coyly. “And I’ll decide who’s keeping me warm tonight.”

*******************************************************************************************

Nearly as important as the fashion show itself was the afterparty. This was where most of the schmoozing and deal-making were conducted, where connections were made and alliances were formed. Swanky upscale clubs were privately rented for these glamorous soirees. The afterparty for La Maison Gris was celebrated at L’Arc, the highly exclusive nightclub at the top of the Champs Elysees. Jacques had rented the club for the night, open only to those on his well-pruned guest list. The neon strobes of the club ordinarily played across a beautiful crowd but during Fashion Week, its lights never fell on someone who wasn’t either rich, famous, beautiful, or otherwise extraordinary.

Jacques was the man of the hour and had to make himself seen at his own party. You, of course, were on every guest list of every afterparty, but only an elite few were deserving of your attendance. After making your rounds at parties hosted by Dolce & Gabbana, Burberry, Dior, and Tom Ford, you decided to make an appearance at the La Maison Gris party and see if Jacques’s bet still intrigued you. Your arrival was just late enough to be aptly fashionable.

A redwood of a doorman recognized you and ushered you in ahead of a winding line of at least one-hundred hopeful partygoers, much to their displeasure. The floor of the club writhed and undulated with women in chic dresses and men in suits dancing in time with heavy driving bass. You would have been hard-pressed to squeeze up to the bar that was so tightly packed that even the attempts of waifish models were foiled by the mass of humanity.

The freshly bleached smiles of several of the biggest names in Hollywood caught your eye from various corners of the room. One perfect smile belonged to the actor who had just landed his big break in being cast in the newest reboot of the Superman franchise. Clark Kent du jour had the build of a linebacker, a square jaw to match, cerulean blue eyes, and jet back hair, complete with a Superman curl he had cultivated since landing the part. He had also been pursuing you since you had toured the set for a piece on the costumes, most of which had been crafted by Zegna. He wore a suit by La Maison Gris, complete with a dyed sable pocket square instead of the usual silk. Tragically, he had both buttons done on his jacket, a glaring faux pas that required all of your limited reserve to overlook. You could take the man off the farm, but you couldn’t dress the farm out of the man.

Aspiring models stalked through the crowd on mile-high legs like otherworldly creatures, eager to impress designers for a chance to walk down their runways. And there was Jacques Le Gris, standing in the middle of an entire harem of them. A flock of scantily and colorfully dressed models surrounded him like birds at a feeder, some batting their eyelashes, others stroking his body, others still giggling vapidly, all desperate for any crumb of attention he deigned to toss their way. Though you couldn’t hear what he was saying, he was gesturing magnanimously, smiling and laughing at his own infectious humor, and very much enjoying the attention.

The spectacle of the fawning models was enough to make you return Clark Kent’s smile just long enough to encourage him to make an approach. Your timing was perfect; like all the best predators, you had the gift of precision. Jacques noticed you just as the handsome actor made a beeline for you and procured a flute of champagne from the tray of an obliging waitress who flitted by on his way. The actor was only the first to approach you. Within moments, you too were encircled by a mass of noisome people, even larger than the group that surrounded Jacques. Everyone wanted your attention, your approval.

At the sight of Clark Kent sidling up to you, a dark veil passed over Jacques’s dashing features, turning them murderous for the breadth of a second. It went unnoticed by most if not all, but you saw it and you smirked. Clenching his jaw, Jacques pushed through the throng of humanity and shooed away the plumage of women, heading not toward you but to the bar.

You smiled as the actor handed you the champagne, trying not to dwell on the state of his tackily buttoned jacket. But you drew the line at champagne, telling him with your usual stridence, “Oh, you can keep that for yourself. I don’t drink champagne, but I’m sure a large country boy like you can handle mine and yours and many more after.”

The poor pretty idiot didn’t know if you were serious or teasing, but since he had no basis in experience dealing with such a direct and assertive woman, he took your harshness for humor and laughed. He would be so easy to rip to shreds, which could be a fun passing amusement. He was exceedingly lucky you were in a good mood tonight. Adding to your relative levity was the towering figure of the CEO of La Maison Gris striding purposefully toward you and fighting to keep his composure and grin through his jealous anger. He held a drink in each hand, filled with amber and ice.

“This is my party,” he said by way of greeting you, making his voice notably deeper than the actor’s. Jacques was taller, but only just, which added to your amusement when he tried to look down his charmingly hooked nose at his more classically handsome opponent. “How is it that you just waltz in here and everybody gravitates toward you like you are the sun.”

“I’ve found that Nietzsche’s herd concept applies in a variety of ways.” You smiled icily back. “The human herd often has a collective sense of who’s the most important person in the room.”

Still looking at the actor, Jacques wordlessly handed you one of the two drinks he carried. You accepted it with a raised eyebrow and lifted it to inhale its aroma. Then, you gifted him with a genuine smile. “You’ve done your homework.”

“I have. Your drink of choice is an old fashioned made with Midleton Single Pot Irish Whiskey and garnished with an orange peel.” He took a sip of his own drink, the same as yours, closing his eyes briefly to savor the taste. “But I think you’ll like this better. I prefer Redbreast twenty-seven year old Irish Whiskey.”

You took a skeptical drink, your eyes not leaving Jacques’s. The old fashioned was remarkably flavorful. “It’s tolerable, I suppose.”

“I better get a nicer review than that from you after I’ve given you a taste of something else that’s full-bodied and old fashioned.” Jacques winked at you as he took another drink.

“I’ve already been here fifteen minutes, and already this is growing dull.” You pointedly looked at the Breitling watch strapped to Jacques’s thick wrist. “When are you going to make it worth my while to have come at all?”

“Finish your drink,” he challenged and downed the better part of his own. He gave the actor a dangerous glare, but the other man was too focused on you to notice, still standing beside you, hopeful and oblivious.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said to Clark Kent with unveiled sarcasm, the man was utterly clueless. “I forgot you were there. You may go now.”

“I may actually grow to like you.” Jacques grinned and took your elbow, his large hand squeezing you for emphasis.

“I would expect so,” you replied haughtily. “It is a sentiment I acquire often but return sparingly.”

“Carpe nocturne, ma jolie fille,” he growled as he pulled you through the crowd and out of L’Arc to his waiting car.

*******************************************************************************************

Enroute to a more comfortable and conducive location, you and Jacques each downed two more old fashioneds as his driver maneuvered through the labyrinthian Parisian streets, overfull with tourists for Fashion Week. With his drinks, Jacques smoked a thick cigar on the drive, billowing smoke from his nose like a regal dragon through a cracked window. It came as no surprise you were both staying at the Ritz Paris, after all, it was the finest luxury hotel in Paris and some say in the world. You discovered it had been Jacques who had sniped the Suite Imperiale, the finest suite in the opulent hotel, out from under you, leaving you to book the only slightly less decadent Suite Windsor for yourself.

Jacques strode with you proudly through the lavish hotel, past numerous celebrities and icons. His hand rested possessively on the small of your back, leaving no doubt as to the nature of your evening.

“People are staring,” you said without a trace of shyness, relishing the attention.

“Let’s make it worth their while.” Jacques took your hand and twirled you like he was dancing with you and then dipped you for a passionate kiss in full view of the bustling lobby.

People indeed stared, their captivated gazes following as he then led you to the bank of elevators. Inside the elevator, he pushed you against the wall and propped his hands on either side of your head, caging you inside his arms as he loomed over you.

“Want me to say goodnight, jolie fille?” he asked, his voice dripping with husky desire.

Biting your lip as you paused to consider his words, you looked up at him. “Not for a few more hours.”

A broad toothy smile broke across Jacques’s features as the elevator chimed and you stepped out of his arms, enroute to his suite.

Jacques walked so closely behind you as you approached the door to the Suite Imperiale that you could feel the heat radiating off his massive body. Hot breath huffed on the back of your neck, raising goosebumps and sending electric currents down your spine. At his door, he handed you his room key and let you fumble with the lock while he trailed his hands down over your hips and then back up your thighs. Hooking his fingers in the hem of your dress, he pulled it up over your ass, the cool air on your skin a stark contrast to his hot hands. His broad chest pressed into your back and his head fell to your neck. His lips teased at you tantalizingly as he dug his thick fingers into your soft hips, pulling your ass back into the massive bulge in his pants.

“I knew you had a luscious ass,” he growled into your neck. He teased you with the scratch of his beard near your ear and smiled against your skin when he dipped his hand between your thighs and felt the moist heat of your arousal. “It would be a shame to ruin your lovely clothes. We need to get you out of them before they get too wet.”

You laughed breathily as you opened the door and stumbled inside with Jacques still pressed to your back. He kicked the door shut and spun you to face him, crashing his lips to yours as you each clawed at each other’s clothing. His jacket and shirt were the first to be discarded. You wanted to see his body before revealing yours, and you were not disappointed when he peeled his shirt away. His chest was larger and more impressive than you had guessed and his arms more thickly muscled. He had the finely sculpted look of a performance horse, massive, sleek, and powerful all at once.

Backing away from him sultrily, you slowly unzipped your dress as you angled toward the bedroom. Inspired by the Chateau de Versailles, the living room of the Suite Imperiale was done in burgundy and cream, with vaulted ceilings and enormous airy windows. The burgundy and gold drapes were open, letting the lights of Paris glimmer into the otherwise darkened room.

Before you could step out of your dress that had fallen to your feet, Jacques lifted you up into his arms, all but yanking you off the ground in his fervor. He was so powerful and solid that he made you feel weightless in his arms, a feeling that heightened your anticipation as much as his expert touch.

Jacques twirled once inside the suite’s bedroom with you still in his arms, taking every advantage to show off. This room was decorated in cream and mint with a green and mint brocade canopy enshrouding the lavish bed. Jacques laid you gently down onto the plush bedding and traced hot kisses down your throat and chest as he rose back to brusquely discard the rest of his clothing. You eyed his body shamelessly, very pleased by every magnificent part of him. His aurous eyes were even hungrier than yours as they devoured the sight of you.

“I’ve never seen true beauty before tonight,” he said reverently in a voice that was all smoke and darkness.

Jacques crawled over you, a predator over his prey, caging you beneath him with his impressive arms on either side of your body. When you put your hands on him, you could feel his heavy muscles tense and flex as he moved. The feel of him alone was a potent aphrodisiac. He could read all the signs of your body, the way you moved and sighed and responded to his touch. He knew you wanted him, and wanted him now. But Jacques wanted to savor you, to spend as long as he could possibly stand it, to sear every moment of this night into his memory like a firebrand.

Agonizingly slow, he returned his lips to your skin, kissing and teasing every part of your flesh he could cover. He knew he would have you several times tonight, and he decided he wanted to make you moan with his tongue before he made you scream with his cock. It was quick work for him once he settled between your legs and hooked your thighs over his shoulders. He had barely traced his name into you a handful of times when he felt the shuddering rush of your ecstasy.

Positioning himself above you, he captured your lips as he thrust into you, fast and fluid but gentle too. Slow at first, he followed the pace you set as your pleasure deepened. He was a consummate lover, and he shifted his hips until he knew his angle was perfect, like a marksman hitting the bullseye. He saw your features rendered beautifully distraught by pleasure, and he thought that he had never seen anything so lovely in the world of fashion and art as the sight of you beneath him.

Your arousal mounted as vigorously as he pistoned into you. Everything faded from your world until there was only the handsome man above you and the pleasure that flooded you until you were bursting with it. Jacques crested with you when a powerful orgasm throbbed through you and he carried you through every delicious shudder until you were both delirious with exhausted bliss. He kissed you with a slow lingering passion and when he pulled back, it was to look at you with adoration. His gaze was brief, but the emotion was unmistakable.

In the sultry minutes between your first session together and the next of the evening, you lay across Jacques’s chest, listening to his steadying heartbeat and the resonant timbre of his voice that sounded much like a contented purr beneath your ear. His hair was tangled and wild, and his chest glistened with a light sheen of sweat. His arms were strong around you and his hands huge and comforting on your skin. The man was an absolute fever dream.

“This is only the beginning, ma belle amour,” Jacques whispered much later that night, careful not to wake you. Even in sleep, he dreamed of you and of the bright and glamorous future you would forge together.

*******************************************************************************************

Jacques prided himself on being part of the 5am Club, but this morning he felt that he had earned some extra rest after his robust performance the night before. You told him that he was incredible, and he couldn’t disagree with you. He was an exceptional lover – he made a point of excelling in all areas of importance to him – and he knew it. He had pulled out all the stops for you. He wanted you not only pleasured but impressed; hooked, and wanting more and more. He grinned sleepily at the realization that, perhaps for the first time in his life, he was just as hooked after this first time as you were sure to be.

An obnoxious beam of sunlight soldiered through a gap in the curtains to shine on Jacques’s face, forcing him to blink into consciousness. Groaning at the light, he rolled over to curl into you and pull you close to him, and maybe have you again for breakfast. But his hand fell on a vacant sheet, cool to the touch. That brought him into full alertness like a bucket of ice water dosed over his head. He propped himself up on an elbow and brushed the hair out his eyes as he looked around the room. All of your things had been collected and were gone, and no sound emanated from the open door of the adjoining bathroom.

Jacques was alone.

No woman had ever sneaked out on him before the dawn. Of course, he had done so countless times to countless women, the number of which he couldn’t have remembered or even closely estimated with a gun to his head. But no woman had ever given him the same treatment. It was unthinkable! Jacques had only ever slipped away from women he considered unimportant, disposable – which, admittedly, were most of them – but he would never have ducked out on you, not after the night the two of you had shared.

Last night was only the beginning, he told himself, knowing it must be true. Anything that felt that good, that right, had to be only the start of something great.  

A bitter thought slithered into his mind, worse than the gravelly morning-after taste on his tongue. Surely, he wasn’t a disposable fling to you. He couldn’t be. He was more than a one night stand, when he wanted more, anyway. It was unfathomable to think a woman, any woman, wouldn’t want more with him. It was blasphemous, even.

No, that couldn’t be it. Jacques knew you were a busy woman, you must have had things to do and places to be. He too was in demand and could hardly begrudge you the same. Throwing the covers aside, he stood and proceeded to walk around the room naked, looking for anything you may have left behind. He was sure he would find a letter or just a brief note, but there was nothing. He even fogged the bathroom mirror in the chance you were prone to mystery and had left a message on the glass that only mist would reveal. He called your suite, received no answer, and had no better luck calling reception. When he checked his phone to see if there were any messages from you, he realized with a sinking feeling that you had not exchanged numbers.

The room was as though you had never been inside it at all. Only the smell of your perfume on his sheets and the scratches you had traced across his skin were proof that last night had not been only a fantasy.

*******************************************************************************************

Never before had Jacques felt so compelled to chase after a woman, but he restrained himself. The rules of a burgeoning relationship were new to Jacques -- not that he ever played by the rules at anything -- but he thought it only fair that since you had been the one to leave, that the burden was on you to make the first contact. He waited for days for a call or email or text, at first angry and then despondent when nothing came.

Jacques Le Gris, the CEO of La Maison Gris, would not chase after a woman. But for this woman, this one singular woman, he consented to casually saunter in her direction. And he was not pleased about having to do so.

It was Friday morning, nearly a week after your evening together, when Jacques relented. He stood restless in his luxurious office, surrounded by walnut paneling, rich colors, and oil paintings. His office had a regal ambience reminiscent of a Victorian study but with a decidedly masculine touch. Every appliance was ultra-modern and colored in sleek carbon, contrasting chicly with the otherwise vintage style. Floor to ceiling windows looked out over the city of Paris, offering an unobstructed view of the Champs Elysees.

Being at the tops in your respective industries made you each easy to track down, even if then making contact was exponentially more difficult. Jacques called the main branch of Annees Folles Magazine in Manhattan and was given the runaround for the better part of an hour. Christ, it was worse than dealing with an airline. He wondered if he would have to fax a copy of his ID just to speak to a living human who had any authority at all. He was near the limits of his temper, his notorious good humor completely expended, by the time he was put through to your office.

“Editor in Chief’s office.” A curt nasally male voice answered Jacques’s call with a note of disinterest. “Armitage Hux speaking.”

“I’m calling to speak to the Editor in Chief directly, please,” Jacques said in his most diplomatic tone. He added his name, which alone opened most doors for him. “This is Jacques Le Gris.”

“The Editor is not to be disturbed. Furthermore, she only takes calls from those listed on her approved call list.” Came the snide reply. “There’ s no Jack.”

“Jacques,” he enunciated more clearly, adding more force to his voice. “Jacques Le Gris.”

“There is no le Grease on the list either.” A withering sneer could almost be heard through the phone.

“Le Gris,” Jacques corrected, fighting to keep from losing his temper.

“My apologies,” Hux answered without the barest hint of contrition. “Regardless, you are not on the list, Mr. le Grease.”

A frustrated growl slipped out before Jacques could stop it. “For fuck’s sake, ask her about me!”

“There’s really no need for profanity. I’ve already told you, she is not to be disturbed,” Hux continued in a tone that was now verging on bored. “Certainly not by people who aren’t important enough to be on her approved call list, Mr. le Grease.”

“Important?” Jacques laughed at the absurdity. “Do you know who I am? I’m the CEO of La Maison Gris!”

“I’m legally required to say that my opinion does not in any way reflect the views of Annees Folles Magazine, but I have always preferred Gucci,” Hux lilted in his superior manner.

“If Le Grease doesn’t spur her memory, tell her I’m the man she spent last Saturday night with!” Now, Jacques was pissed. Comparing his distinguished line to that family of garish Italians was like slapping a glove across his cheek. “She knew my name then because she was fucking screaming it!”

“Ah, maybe you’re on that list.” Hux smiled deviously, which could be heard on his voice.

Jacques ground his teeth until he thought they would surely crack while he listened to the other man’s unhurried keystrokes as he pulled up that list. Jacques made a mental note to clear that fucking list out for you real fast.

“Barber… McHenry… — forgive me, I’m skimming here — Mills… Ren… Zimmerman…” Hux read through each name with relish. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid that this list is Grease-free as well.”

“Listen, you trumped up little shit.” Jacques finally lost control of his temper. “If I have to get on a fucking plane, walk right in there, and kick the door down to her office —“

“Hold please,” Hux intoned, utterly unconcerned. Music only slightly trendier than elevator music assaulted Jacques across the line.

Jacques punched the end button with as much force as he could muster with his finger on the button that was too small for his thick digit. He caught himself just before he threw his phone across the room, and instead turned and swung a savagely powerful punch into the wall, slamming his fist straight through the plaster.

*******************************************************************************************

Bright and early the following Monday a fresh copy of the American edition of Annees Folles Magazine was delivered by courier to Jacques’s office. There was no accompanying note, but the magazine smelled of the sultry exotic perfume he remembered so well. Jacques knew with absolute certainty who it was from. It was longer than he wanted to wait for an overture from you, but at least it was something.

One of the subheadings on the cover read, A Special Editorial and Behind the Scenes Look into the New Fashion Line of La Maison Gris. Jacques seated himself behind his imposing desk, leaned back in his tufted leather chair, and propped his long legs on his desk, crossing his feet at the ankles. He intended to savor your special editorial on him and his fashion line, expecting to fall even deeper and more hopelessly into the abyss of his feelings for you, into this new and uncharted territory.

Jacques rustled through the pages, eager to find your editorial. Splashed across the page was an extra treat – a startlingly high-quality photograph of his runway with a model in a floral dress with fur cuffs, and front in center silhouetted by the runway lights, the pair of you stood side-by-side in the crowd watching the show. He decided to have it framed for his office, a memento of the night your relationship began. He imagined your smile when he showed it off to you in person.

Below the photograph, the article was not what he expected. It was five-hundred words of honeyed vitriol.

La Maison Gris, with CEO Jacques Le Gris at its helm, has been the rising star in the fashion industry and with good reason. His designs mix ultra-modern chic with the classiest and the most decadent styles history has ever seen. From Victorian era draping and corsets to Regency-esque frocks and slippers to beading and sequins that would flatter the most exuberant 1920’s flapper, Le Gris’s inspiration is regal and refined and imbued with his own signature twist and flourish.

Ascensions, however, are precarious. Climbing to the top in fashion is just as perilous as climbing Mount Everest. One misstep can cost one his career.

Confident in his own grandeur, Le Gris opened his show at Paris Fashion Week with a new line featuring a daring use of fur on every piece. Icarus, too, was daring in his flight toward the blazing Sun. Just like Icarus, Le Gris has reached beyond his capacity and will soon find himself plummeting back to Earth to crash and burn with so many other has-beens whose names are not worth remembering.

Swept up in his penchant for melding modern with iconic, Le Gris does not consider the advances that we as a society have made. No longer do we need to resort to the barbarism of the fur trade to clothe ourselves. Nor do we, as Le Gris would have us believe, need to resort to fur to dress ourselves in the finest fashion and haute couture. Rest assured, dear readers, La Maison Gris is not in the upper echelon of fine fashion and haute couture.

In addition to the heinous and overdone use of fur, Le Gris has the tastelessness to cobble together a kaleidoscope of florals ranging from pastel to electric. His florid color palette can best be described as ‘A Murder of Unicorns,’ as painted by Monet. It reminds one of a cheerily painted playroom inside a children’s mental institution. A more cultured eye will gravitate to Dolce & Gabbana for florals, to Burberry for iconic; and if one is looking for fur, a vintage fox, mink, or sable from a boutique will always carry the day.

Le Gris’s approach to fashion seems to be that a lack of quality can be disguised by flair and concealed with fur. This mirrors the man’s approach to life. A boisterous grandstander, Le Gris tries to project a distinguished air. However, like a magician’s trick revealed, all his flash and charm are little more than smoke and mirrors with no real substance.

A little fur here and there can make a girl purr, but an overuse, such as the spring line of La Maison Gris, is barbarous at best and utterly gauche at worst.

One wonders if Le Gris has the capacity to bear a defeat with dignity, but the smart money will bet on the negative. Like a scavenging hound, Le Gris will likely refurbish his failed spring line for another runway this coming fall or winter. He will certainly gain no traction on any runway of repute. With his brash sensationalism and garish taste, perhaps he shall find his true calling outfitting cosplayers or larpers.

Jacques crumpled the offending magazine in his fist as if he could choke the life from its Editor in Chief through the abused pages. He viciously ripped it in half, throwing each segment across the room in different directions. He wanted to punch another hole in his wall, but his knuckles were still scabbed and bruised from his recent outburst. Not for the first time, he decided to hang a heavyweight punching bag in his office. He glared around his office, looking for something to break. Why the fuck was everything his decorators chose some one-of-a-kind antique?

Sparing his knuckles further damage, he let out a savage growl like a wounded lion. Jacques was breathing as hard as if he had run a mile, his huge chest straining the buttons on his tailored shirt. As he tried ineffectively to calm himself, his shrewd mind began to calculate and strategize. After a few moments of huffing, he decided on his course of action. If you wanted to play dirty, he could roll in the mud with the best of them. Retrieving his phone, he dialed a familiar number.

“Jacques!” Pierre D’Alencon, the Creative Director of La Maison Gris, answered with friendly ebullience. “I was just going to call you. Drinks this weekend? I happened upon a gorgeous set of twins -- redheads, no less -- and of course I’m willing to share with my closest friend.”

“Put the twins on ice for now,” Jacques grumbled gruffly. “This is business. Did you see the editorial in Annees Folles?”

“I did, indeed,” Pierre’s voice lost a hint of its buoyancy. “Hence my offer of drinks and women to lift your spirits.”

“I’ve made a decision, and it involves you. If that glorified tabloid wants to blast me for using fur in my line, I’m going to single-handedly revive the fur-in-fashion trend! We’ll see who holds more power in this little game.” Jacques grinned devilishly at his own newly formed plan of attack like a knight finding a chink in his opponent’s armor. “Which is where you come in. I want to see designs for an entire line with fur on every piece by the end of the month. Get on it, Pierre! Give me your best.”

“Do you not think it best to respond with more dignity and sweep all this unpleasantness under the rug?” Pierre asked with a heavy sigh. “This is why you have PR people.”

“Who was it that said any publicity is good publicity?” Jacques asked, unphased.

“That would be the American spectacle, P.T. Barnum,” Pierre replied with resignation.

“Smart man. I always admired his joie de vivre.” Jacques smirked as he paced across his vast office. “That’s exactly what I want. I want a spectacle. I want a public circus. I want a showdown. We’re going to revive the fur trend, you and I, and I’m going to rub it in that demoness’s face!”

“Ah, so this is all motivated by astute business acumen and professionalism, is it?” Pierre gave a laugh that was ignored.

“Use every kind of fur you can get your hands on. The crueler the fucking better! Lynx, fox, sable, Persian lamb – all the cutest and cuddliest animals. Are chinchillas still a thing? Those too. Can we still get leopard? If you can design a full-length coat made of puppies, do it! Dalmatian with a lynx collar, how about that?” Jacques ran a hand along the shimmering silver streak in his black hair, thinking. “And I don’t want faux anything in sight. I want it all real, all genuine fur.”

Pierre confirmed his understanding of his marching orders and signed off. For so long as their mission remained retaliation and war, anyway. He also decided on a side-quest of sorts, to put his second greatest talent to work while he created a runway line trimmed in fur. He would try his best at figuring out his friend and boss’s quarry, and aid him in hunting the most dangerous game of all, a powerful woman. Perhaps if Jacques could seduce her personally, there would be no need to batter her into submission professionally, and Pierre knew he was just the man for both jobs.

Jacques was still wound up after the call, but now he had a course of action, a focal point, a target at which to channel his anger and frustration. The embers of rage still alighted Jacques’s nerves and the sting of betrayal still burned in his chest. He still wanted to punch something, to find a release. It was a poor substitute, but he ranted and bellowed instead.

“That frigid bitch!” Jacques snarled, glaring out of his window over the streets of Paris. “That shrew. That succubus. Satan. That woman is fucking Satan!”

*******************************************************************************************

To be continued…

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© safarigirlsp 2023

Tagging some fashionistas:

@in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather @babbushka @mrs-gucci @mrs-zimmerman @iamburdened @gabesprincess @reborn-rekall @maybe-your-left @rynwritesstuff @candycanes19 @caillea @cas-backwards-tie @queeniebee @mythrielofsolitude @ghoulian13 @icarusinthesea @darkhairedmenrule @reyloaddict55 @fizzywoohoo @heartlight-starlight @richbrittstein @clydesfavoritegirl @bensolodyad @thepalaceofmelanie @celiholland @durangoninetyfive @reveluving @vedavan @fax4life27 @lumberjack00fantasies @kyloremus

[horce-divorce]

we made it to the tail end of the 4th Annual Entheofest today! Ann arbor decriminalized entheogenic plants 4 years ago, so now you can not only buy mushrooms and DMT vapes in head shops, you can go to campus events and get everything from free samples to LSD from a guy wearing the coolest fucking embroidered tailcoat you've ever seen. apparently

we didn't come super prepared & didnt really have any drugs money this time but it was cool seeing all the stuff people have, seeing everyone's outfits, and hearing their pitches.

someone walked up to us and was like "do you like tea???" Like damn fucking clocked lmao, they gave us the spiel about how they got into lions mane for their GERD before getting into psilocybin, did a ton of research into various medicinal mushrooms and now saves $400 worth of GERD medications every month, and handed me a fistful of free non-psychadelic mushroom teas to try for my Various Issues.

One guy was selling APE gummies that use some kind of concentrate/extraction method he pioneered himself, and he also uses lions mane in them so they don't give you a stomach ache when you trip. He was handing out free samples AND bananas. get it because the mushroom is called APE. it was a good gimmick and I liked his free gummies

another person who was driving the bike cart thing and wearing THEE coolest outfit handed me a bunch of pride stickers, and they had the BEST art for sale and I was so crushed I didn't have any cash for them!!! but I followed them on Instagram so I hope I can catch them again before they leave town.

also shootout to the guy who came up to us after and was like "you guys were at entheofest? I got LSD!!!! you ever played with an LED Frisbee on acid? It's hard to catch a Frisbee with a 30 foot trail" before skipping off in the rain with the hugest grin. I <3 stoners. thank you mushroom people for my fucking life

[nervosims]

Finally! Lion's Mane Saloon is Rank 5!!! Nowadays, we can earn around $2,000-$3,000 if they're on their game. Not only that, but Jeremy now has a Gold Sales Talent Badge, so we can keep racking up those stars.

TENDER: week five

[rabbitcruiser]

World Lion Day

World  Lion Day on August 10 aims to raise awareness about the plight faced by  lions. Scientifically known as ‘Panthero Leo,’ lions are one of the  most well-known and popular animal species out there. They are called  the ‘Kings of the Jungle’ due to their arresting and fearsome  personalities created by their great bodies and heavy, shiny manes. A  lion’s powerful roar is second to none, and it can be heard even five  miles away. Owing to the pop culture icons like Simba from “The Lion  King”, lions are also loved by children. However, while lions existed in  large populations 100 years ago, today, their numbers are just below  50,000 worldwide as a result of poaching and hunting. World Lion Day,  therefore, brings attention to this endangered species by raising funds  and amping up protective measures.

History of World Lion Day

The  first World Lion Day came into being in 2013. It was headed by Dereck  and Beverly Joubert, a couple who are passionate about preservation and  wild cats. After realizing that lion populations have drastically  decreased worldwide, the Jouberts approached “National Geographic” for  the brand’s help. Forming a partnership with them, the couple came up  with the Big Cat Initiative (B.C.I.) in 2009. The B.C.I.’s main goal  would be to protect and preserve the remaining lion species in the  world. While aspects like deforestation, climate change, and human  intervention may have impacted lion populations, studies have shown that  their extremely low numbers may also have to do with ice ages and  natural environmental disasters that have led them to becoming secluded  in only a few countries of the world, namely India and South Africa. To  date, the B.C.I. has made substantial leaps, from getting 150+ grant  awards to reducing almost 3,000 threats to 3,000 wild cats to removing  13,000 life-threatening snares.

The lion comes from the ‘Felidae’  family of cats, and it is considered to be an apex predator. It is the  second-largest cat weighing around 300 to 600 pounds, with the first  being its cousin, the tiger. An average lion’s body is muscular with a  short round head and ears, and a tufty tail. Its sex can be identified  through its heavy and luscious mane, which are absent on lionesses.  Lions also happen to be the only cats who roam around in large groups  known as prides. Scientists believe that lions do so because it is  easier to catch prey in the wild. Their natural habitats are savannas  and grasslands. You will most likely find a pride of lions near water  bodies as they strategically wait for prey to come there for a drink and  then pounce on them.

World Lion Day timeline

1758 ‘Felis Leo’ is Coined

Carl Linnaeus, a Swedish zoologist and botanist, invents ‘Felis Leo’ as the scientific name of lions.

1996 Vulnerable Species

The  lion is placed on the Red List of the International Union for  Conservation of Nature due to its African population decreasing by 45%  since 1990.

2009 Big Cat Initiative is Formed

Dereck and Beverly Joubert, in partnership with “National Geographic”, start the Big Cat Initiative to save lions.

2013 The First World Lion Day

The B.C.I. announces the first World Lion Day in order to include the world in lion preservation efforts.

How to Observe World Lion Day

Vow to protect lions

Refuse to buy lion products

Donate your assets

No  matter how you choose to spend the day, make sure it is worthwhile by  vowing to protect lions. Lions are natural predators that are necessary  to keep prey populations in check. Apart from such environmental  benefits, lions are extremely beautiful and majestic animals that have  ruled the pop culture scene for a long time. So, let’s take a vow to be  there for them.

Whether  you are looking to buy a new bag or coat, or any other similar  paraphernalia, make sure you know where it is coming from. Refuse to buy  lion products (or other animal skin products) to reduce sales and  market value.

Time  and money are the most valuable assets you can give in today’s world.  Look out for national and international organizations that protect wild  cats, and invest in them by donating your money to the cause. If you  cannot donate, you can volunteer your time by either helping the  organizations with volunteer work or by promoting the organizations in  your circles.

5 Facts About Lions That Will Blow Your Mind

Younglings have spots on their skin

Manes change over time

Cubs are raised together

Females are mightier hunters

Heavy and long sleepers

Young lion cubs are born with spots on their coats, but these tend to fade away as they grow older.

A lion’s mane will change color, going from light to dark, as it grows older.

Lion cubs are generally brought up together by all the females in a pride.

Lionesses are better hunters than their male counterparts, and it is for this reason that they hunt 80% to 90% of the time.

Lions will sleep for at least 20 hours a day.

Why World Lion Day is Important

It’s a celebration of lions

It’s a reminder about the importance of preservation

It’s a celebration of the natural environment

For  most of us, “The Lion King” was a huge part of our childhood. We  rejoiced at the birth of Simba but also grieved with him over his  father’s death. Holding such sweet memories and images, we cannot let  the beloved animal go extinct. Let’s come together on August 10 to  protect lions from all dangers.

Preservation  has become a necessity, more now than ever. We cannot hope to live on a  peaceful and resourceful Earth if we keep depleting it of its natural  resources, be it water, fuel, or animals. We must preserve and protect  the Earth for ourselves as well as future generations.

The  natural environment has given us countless gifts. From food for taste  and survival to medicinal properties to inspiration for technological  inventions, nature has continued to reward us since time immemorial. We  must therefore honor, respect, and celebrate it.

Source

[lionews]

Hi. I never really post here. I mainly just lurk to keep myself informed on what is going on in the community.

I think about a few days ago or so, I saw that someone made a post asking about a user I had commissioned for custom decor a while ago. I don't want to scroll down and find the post, so you might have to just take my word for it. I wanted to wait a bit longer to post this, but I feel I have waited long enough as is. You are free to ignore this post but if you do read, I respectfully ask of you to not harass/witchhunt the user mentioned or myself. I do not have a desire to "cancel" anyone. I am sure this individual is a decent person. There is absolutely no resentment I hold towards this individual either, just disappointment towards my own mistake. I am only posting this to inform others of my experience and hope it doesn't happen or has happened to anyone else. If you have trouble reading long paragraphs like I do, scroll down to where it says "Long Story Short" in bold.

Almost a year ago I had commissioned #105942, a decently known custom decor artist for two pieces of custom decor. One was going to be a mane+fluff, the other other was wing+tail attachments. One other was going to be commissioned as a Christmas gift for a friend but I had not sent a deposit since there was no response on if it would be accepted in game since the custom decor had pot leaves. I had to save up GB from sales so I could send the deposit and get the CD rocks. I had told her I would buy GB and send the deposit in a week, but due to my financial struggles, I chose not to buy the currency and I failed to communicate on that. I hold full accountability on my lack of communication. I did eventually send the deposit of 80GB (I swore it was 70GB but she said in messages it was 80GB) on 01/20/2023 and I recall purchasing both rocks on that same day, which is an additional 20GB (but that's on me). I had 50GB set aside in my bundles so I could pay her later once I was able to approve the first WIP of the pieces. That never came.

I can say in full confidence I failed on my part to communicate more with her. It takes two to have a conversation. I didn't want to bother her as I felt I would rush her in the art process and simply waited for her to reach out to me. We didn't speak again until I made myself message her on 07/17/2023 and she replied stating she was busy with her baby, which I completely understood. She said she would have an entire weekend to work on my commissions and would have an update by Saturday, which would've been on 07/22/2023. There was no update.

I didn't reach out again until 11/30/2023 when I decided to message her. I kept her situation, with her now having an entire life to care for now, in mind when asking for a refund. I said I couldn't quite remember if the amount was 70GB or not since I could not find the receipt in the "Sent Messages" folder on Lioden, which I assume was because she deleted the gift notification from her folder. She said that life was hectic with her baby at the time, which I understood, and stated it was 80GB she owed and would get it to me after she had sold a lion of hers. I agreed.

Messaged her again on the 12th of December to see how the sale was going. She said she was still waiting for it to sell.

Skip ahead to the 22nd of December, I reached out again and asked if her lion had sold. She said no, but she would be buying GB after Christmas and would issue the refund to me after the holidays and I told her it was no problem, since it was nearing closer to the holidays n' all. I understood she would be busy around then.

I reached out again on 01/03/2024 just wanting to peek in. No response.

Reached out again on 01/11/2024 asking if she was okay, since there had been no response, but I could see that she had posted an ad on Discord in a Lioden server she and I are both in and on a thread on Lioden. Of course, I was a tad peeved. I reached out to the Lioden mods, not expecting anything to be done since all conversations she and I had were over Discord and, as expected, nothing was done. I sat on it for bit, wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt. I haven't sent another message, but I know if I do I would be met with nothing anyway. I already know I will not be receiving a refund, but I don't care. I'm not sure if anyone else has had an experience like this with this user. I feel I may be the odd one out, since I haven't heard of any complains in regards to them.

Long Story Short

I commissioned #105942 for two pieces of custom decor almost a year ago. Sent the first deposit on Jan 20th 2023. Was never sent a wip/she never worked on it. Asked for a refund (80GB) in November and she said she would give me a refund after one of her lions sold. Messaged again on December 22nd 2023 asking if said lion sold and was told it hadn't but that she would be buying GB after the holidays so she could issue me the refund ASAP. Reached out on Jan 3rd 2024 to check in and was met with no response. Messaged again on Jan 11th 2024 but never received a reply back, despite seeing some activity on her part on Lioden and Discord.

Link to proof: https://imgur.com/a/fLMPn4n

If the link doesnt work, I'll try again.

.

[marv3l-drag0ns]

Technoblade cosplay planning (top secret) (my eyes only) (unless you wanna talk to me about it :eyes:)

Ok so im the biggest pignoblade supporter but thats gonna be technically hard and ill need to make a mask. Previous plans involve modifying a dinomask ala skulldog fursuit to make a boar skull and then have longer pink mane around it. merit!

However i already have tusks and i kinda wanna do a long hair wig for him so i might cave and do human techno. choices.

I want to give him a thigh chainmail (drawing to follow) because i think that sounds awesome. I also need to see if I can find calf high brown or black boots that actually fit my calf so. ill probably have to order them full price. sad. but i can make the chainmail! glad :D (new skill tree to pursue)

I'm probably also going to delve into making a cow-lion-boar combination tail (i have drawings with what i want, itll probably be thin felt a little stuffing around a wire core with a tuft of fur (maybe brushed yarn?) at the end to make it fluffy)

AND THEN THE BEST PART THE ONE IVE BEEN COLELCTING PARTS FOR!!!!!!!! I have this awesome red coat that i actually. cannot find who made it. but its so awesome and i want to use it for the techno cosplay, with either a rabbit fur ruff (white fur) or with the sheepskin scraps i got at the rummage sale a month ago. HOWEVER. new idea emerged recently.

I saw. a GORGEOUS. half cloak with a very full and fluffy pure white fur ruff (however i think it was fox fur which ive heard is a) more expensive and b) often fur farmed?) at the ren faire it was such a gorgeous deep wine color and the fur was so flufy AND!!!! it had cloak clasps that were golden chain and had blue crystals in the pin part and i immediately thought ''oh eyes of ender for sure!'' !!!!!!!!! and i also recently saw a tiktok from a shop advertising a longer red cloak that had a super cool pattern and way of securing it but thats also really expensive so i might have to learn how to make a combination of all three by myself (i love diy and im also not rich enough to get this).

Also the eye of ender amulet i painted would be really good, and i want to search for a dangly green jewel earing as well as some other ones either to put in the techno ears id have to make (this is seriously going to be the cosplay i learn to make fursuit gear lmao) or decide which ones to put in my ears (so also potentially clip on earrings since i only have the lobes).

was there anything else.... OH PROP MAKING i cant decide on what prop i want to make so we'll see what happens.

but yeah!!!!! im super excited and theres so many cool skills for me to learn and also a really fun cosplay ive been wanting to do for 2-3 years iirc. so we'll see!

[draconesmundi]

The Tarasque Commission

Tarasque for @theload – part of my winter sale for quick sketch commissions, which has sadly ran out, but you can commission dragons at a normal price at my KoFi (https://ko-fi.com/northwyrm/commissions)

The tarasque from French folklore (very similar to the cucafera or coco in Spanish and Portuguese folklore!) is a creature which has a lion’s head, a horse’s mane, two racks of armoured, spiked plates (one on each flank), six legs and a serpent’s tail!

[psychicdreamfriendoperator]

Not me sending an ask but then ignoring the ones in my own blog 😳umm.. how about some Halloween headcanons with agata? Like what he would do, how he feels, his costume, etc. anything else you’d like to add too 🧙‍♀️🦁

All’s well — I’ve been sitting on an ask since Nov 2021 myself haha

Hope you enjoy! Agata’s fun to write for because he's the youngest lion pspsp

— Psychic

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General Halloween Headcanons

Halloween is one of the bigger holidays in the Beastars world: there's something very captivating about being able to just dress up and pretend you are someone else, if even for a little while.

It isn't uncommon for smaller herbivores to dress up as stronger herbivores, and vice versa.

For carnivorous animals, Halloween is one of the only days where it's acceptable for them to be scary and threatening — claws and fangs are sharpened.

Halloween also serves as a fun way to pick on social norms, and give commentary on pressing social issues: it's not uncommon to see herbivores dressed up as the most recent predation victim as a sort of statement.

In spite of all this, the Black Market doesn't really do Halloween; or at least, the gangs don't. (Not officially, anyway)

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Agata’s Feelings on Halloween

Having been raised outside of the Black Market, Agata had some exposure to Halloween.

When he was younger, his mother liked to dress him up as the ‘threatening lion’ Agata’s father never quite was.

But outside of that, Agata has never participated in any sort of Halloween event, but by God, he wants to change that.

It's just his luck that this year, the Shishigumi isn't as busy around Halloween. It gives him a good excuse to leave the Black Market and explore how people celebrate the holiday.

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Agata’s Exploration [Prose]

Agata wasn't used to riding in the back seat, but Dolph insisted that he did. Something about how the passenger side seatbelt was broken, and how he didn't want to be pulled over for something as stupid as that.

With a low sigh, Agata rest his head against the hard, leather seat. He and Dolph’s eyes met in the rear view window.

“Kid,” Dolph said. “Your stop is coming up soon.”

Agata nodded at that, and Dolph’s eyes drifted back onto the road.

Looking out the car window, he could see that the storefronts were decorated with all sorts of things: paper cut-outs, fake skeletons — one store even had a fake re-enactment of a predation.

It was almost frightening how looser everyone became when Halloween was involved; doing something like that was a major no-no any other time of the year.

Catching his reflection on the window, Agata began to stare at himself. Really stare at himself, and look at everything from his face to his dark mane. Idly pulling at his mouth, he lamented that it was too late to grow out his fangs.

But that was fine — it wasn't like he was going to get a costume or anything. No, he was just going to look around and see what was for sale…

“Uh, Dolph?” Seeing the older lion not stop the car made Agata lurch forward. “You missed my stop.”

Dolph made a low noise of disapproval. “I can't park in the middle of the road, now can I?”

“Park?”

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Agata + Dolph’s Exploration

Dolph really didn't plan on sticking around with Agata.

At most, he planned to give Agata some extra cash (nothing much, just an extra $200 or so — Halloween costumes could be expensive, and what if Agata got hungry along the way?) and then return to the Mansion.

That being said, Dolph is glad he decided to walk the streets with Agata: the younger lion’s curiosity is infectious.

Agata never got the chance to grow up properly, and it's so obvious that Dolph can't help but feel guilty whenever Agata stops walking to stare, or examine or touch a Halloween display.

It's mostly due to Dolph’s insistence and not-so-subtle nudging that Agata considers getting a costume at all.

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Agata’s Costume

Agata wants something simple: so, no fur-dyes, or styrofoam horns, or anything of the sort.

He’s metaphorically dipping his toes in. Even though he wants to have fun this Halloween, he’s still the youngest member of the Shishigumi. And while the other lions probably wouldn't say anything, or even care ... well, what would they think?

Agata’s low self-esteem threatens to get in the way, and while Dolph can't handle the root cause, he can try to make Agata feel a bit more confident in his decision.

Dolph winds up dragging Agata to different stores, and encouraging him to try on simple costumes: the ones that are just outfits with as few accessories as possible.

In the end, both Dolph and Agata wind up paying for mobster costumes. They already dress like they're part of a gang (because they are), and it just feels "right".

(Agata thinks it's hilarious that they went to so many stores, just to wind up dressing up as themselves. Dolph finds it more amusing than hilarious)

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Conclusion

As Agata and Dolph walk back to the car, they receive many compliments on their realistic mobster costumes.

Neither of them were wearing their store-bought costumes yet.

All in all, it's a successful outing. Though it isn't discussed, both Agata and Dolph agree that they'll be doing the same thing again the following year.

Agata believes he’s too old for trick-or-treating, so honestly, maybe he could hit up a club next Halloween? Or go to one of those adult costume parties? Either outing sounds like fun to him.

[mariacallous]

After the first round of Argentina’s presidential election on Oct. 22, a rally in support of upstart far-right candidate Javier Milei shut down a major thoroughfare in downtown Buenos Aires. Attendees draped themselves with the “Don’t Tread on Me” flag and waved banners depicting a roaring lion, which has become a logo of sorts for Milei—evoking both his unruly mane and his vow to impose himself over what he calls Argentina’s “political caste.”

Milei, a self-proclaimed “anarcho-capitalist” who has been compared to former U.S. President Donald Trump and former Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro, had just punched his ticket to a Nov. 19 runoff against Argentina’s center-left economy minister, Sergio Massa. Milei’s feat upended what Argentines call la grieta, or “the chasm”—the traditional cycle of polarized political competition whereby the country’s center-left and center-right vie for control of governing institutions.

Milei’s ascent from libertarian economist to one-term congressman and now viable presidential candidate was rapid. Recent polling shows him with a narrow 4-point lead over Massa ahead of the runoff. Milei owes his success largely to social media—and the young voters who use it.

Instead of crisscrossing Argentina to meet with voters or blanketing urban centers with signage, Milei’s version of hitting the campaign trail entailed producing a steady churn of videos and social media content with a message that was confrontational and “appealed to certain negative emotions like anger, but also fear about what would happen if the next government weren’t led by him,” said Ana Slimovich, a sociologist at the University of Buenos Aires.

That strategy proved especially effective among younger voters. Voters under the age of 29 are credited with making Milei a contender for the presidency: Polls show that nearly 50 percent of that cohort support the far-right candidate. “This movement was born with you,” Milei said in a tweet addressed to young people published shortly before the Oct. 22 first-round vote.

Having come of age in an era of chronic economic turmoil, young voters say Milei offers a new approach to governing that could turn around Argentina’s fortunes. Change is desperately needed: The country’s currency, the peso, is depreciating fast against the dollar, and year-over-year inflation stands at over 100 percent. The International Monetary Fund has forecast a recession for 2023, the seventh economic contraction Argentina will have experienced since 2012. More than 1 in 4 Argentine households now live below the poverty line.

By tapping into voters’ frustrations with economic instability, Milei has ushered a set of previously fringe policy proposals into the mainstream. His signature economic platform includes abolishing Argentina’s Central Bank, ditching the beleaguered peso, and dollarizing the economy—a move most experts warn is infeasible given the country’s low reserves of hard currency. A group of more than 100 economists recently warned that Milei’s economic proposals would spell “devastation” for the country.

Outside economics, Milei has also voiced support for liberalizing gun laws and greenlighting the sale of organs. Years ago, he floated a “free market” for the sale of babies, an idea he has since distanced himself from. In line with his anarcho-capitalist beliefs, Milei has pledged to cut 10 federal ministries, privatize state industries, and dismantle the public health care system in favor of private alternatives. Foreign policy wouldn’t be spared from major changes, either: Milei has suggested he would distance Argentina from Brazil and China, the country’s two biggest trading partners, and align closely with the United States and Israel.

Feelings of exasperation are particularly potent among young Argentines, who are more likely to be informally employed and earn lower salaries than middle-aged and older populations. TikTok, Latin America’s fastest-growing social media site, has been critical to Milei’s courtship of these young people. Milei has 1.5 million followers on the platform, compared to Massa’s 254,000. Milei’s advisor, Fernando Cerimedo, is an important player in the Latin American far right’s digital strategy; his previous clients include Bolsonaro, who adopted a communications plan that prioritized digital media and built an audience of 5.5 million TikTok followers.

In most of his TikTok videos, Milei looks to the camera and answers questions about his policies from a 22-year-old staffer who addresses him by the diminutive “Javi.” Milei concludes these short addresses with a trademark shout of “Long live freedom, damn it!” On Instagram, where Milei has 3.6 million followers (a little over 3 million more than Massa), he shares memes and hosts popular monthly livestreams, raffling off his congressional salary to “give back to the people the money that was taken from them by force.” In the most recent livestream, he led his staff in a chant of “the [political] caste is afraid.”

Slimovich said that young voters see authenticity in Milei’s bombast and bluster. In her view, right-wing figures such as Milei have found fertile ground online because their simple, grievance-filled language is eminently shareable—and because these politicians spend more time broadcasting on social platforms than appearing in traditional news media, which has become widely discredited in right-wing spaces.

Milei is also benefiting from a growing ecosystem of young right-wing Argentine influencers dedicated to amplifying his message. That includes full-time influencers with large accounts such as Tomás Jurado, in his early 20s—whose “Peluca Milei” (Milei’s Wig) YouTube channel recently passed the million-subscriber mark—and digital foot soldiers like 19-year-old Adriel Segura.

When he’s not in class or studying, Segura, who lives in Buenos Aires, dedicates his time to “waging the culture war” on TikTok, where he makes videos explaining or defending Milei and the ideology he represents. In just over five months, Segura has built up an audience of 69,000 followers and amassed millions of views. “Social media is Milei’s territory … and it’s an organic movement because it’s his own followers who make him go viral and promote him,” he said. “I feel like I’m part of that.”

Segura thinks the people who watch his videos—many of whom have written to say he convinced them to support Milei—are just like him. “It’s people who don’t trust traditional politicians, or traditional media,” he said. “And those people tend to identify electorally with Milei.” In Segura’s view, Milei’s supporters understand that a win on Nov. 19 will not magically reverse Argentina’s fortunes—and might even make life in Argentina more difficult. But the country’s chronic economic issues justify trying a new approach to governing the country, Segura said. “Instead of voting for the two parties that created or perpetuated this crisis, I’m going to vote for the guy who is different.”

Experts say that feeling is widespread among young Argentines. “There’s an environment of rage and frustration over the economic and social results that the country has had for many years. That’s led to this thinking that we need something new. Even if it ends in disaster, at least it will be a new disaster,” said Valeria Brusco, a member of the Red de Politólogas, a group of women political scientists. Young Milei supporters “tell you that they prefer for everything to blow up, and let’s see what happens afterward. They’ve got nothing to lose anyway.”

Milei’s youth supporters are mostly male. That’s not surprising, given how Milei has undermined the feminist movement that helped put Argentina at the progressive vanguard of Latin America. (Among other proposals, he backs a referendum to invalidate a 2020 law that legalized abortion in the country.) What experts say does appear contradictory about Milei’s youth support base, however, is how many are economically disadvantaged, including those who work in the informal sector. That includes a significant chunk of delivery drivers who find work through a bevy of popular apps such as Rappi or PedidosYa—and don’t seem swayed by Massa’s party’s proposal to include gig workers in the formal economy and expand labor rights.

According to political analyst Carlos De Angelis, informal workers are wary of state involvement in the economy, which they associate more with pandemic-era restrictions on work than potential policies that could enhance their well-being. “There’s this concept of a benevolent state, right? Well, for them, it’s more like a malevolent state,” he said.

Back at the Oct. 22 Milei rally, Joaquin Ignacio Piaggio met two of his friends, all first-time voters. The 21-year-old philosophy student works part-time as a receptionist. He said he sometimes skips meals because he earns so little, and he must wait months to purchase everyday items like clothes. The idea of moving out of his parents’ home and renting an apartment of his own one day feels inconceivable.

Piaggio doesn’t see a future for himself in Argentina if Massa’s ruling party wins the Nov. 19 runoff. He said he is proud of young people like himself and his friends for elevating Milei as an alternative. “We are the generation that created a change.”

[cottoncandypopcorn1]

Mushroom Chocolate Bars for Sale Online: A Growing Trend in Wellness and Taste

Mushroom chocolate bars are exactly what they sound like: chocolate bars infused with extracts or powders derived from medicinal mushrooms.mushroom chocolate bars for sale online     These mushrooms are known for their potential health benefits, which can range from immune system support to enhanced cognitive function. Popular varieties of mushrooms used include:

Reishi: Known for its calming properties, Reishi is often used to promote relaxation and better sleep.

Lion’s Mane: Believed to support brain health and cognitive function, this mushroom is popular among those looking to improve focus and memory.

Chaga: A powerful antioxidant, Chaga is often sought after for its potential to boost the immune system.

Cordyceps: Used by athletes and fitness enthusiasts, Cordyceps is thought to improve energy levels and physical performance.

By blending these functional mushrooms with chocolate, manufacturers offer a product that is both enjoyable to eat and may offer holistic health benefits.

Why Buy Mushroom Chocolate Bars Online?

As consumer interest in alternative health and wellness continues to grow, so does the accessibility of products like mushroom chocolate bars. Buying them online offers several advantages:

Convenience: Online platforms provide easy access to a variety of mushroom chocolate products, eliminating the need to visit specialty stores or wellness shops.

Variety: From gourmet options with dark chocolate to bars mixed with other superfoods like nuts and berries, online retailers often carry a broader selection than brick-and-mortar stores.

Information at Your Fingertips: Buying online allows consumers to research ingredients, read customer reviews, and compare different brands before making a purchase. Many websites also provide detailed information about the mushrooms used, helping customers make informed decisions.

Exclusive Deals and Discounts: Many e-commerce platforms and mushroom-focused websites offer discounts, bundles, and subscription services that make purchasing mushroom chocolate bars more affordable.

The Health and Wellness Boom

The rise of mushroom chocolate bars ties into broader trends in health-conscious eating and functional foods. Consumers today are more mindful of the ingredients they consume and are increasingly looking for foods that offer more than just taste. Functional mushrooms have been part of traditional medicine in various cultures for centuries, and they are now being rediscovered and integrated into modern diets.

Mushrooms like Lion's Mane and Reishi have been studied for their potential neuroprotective and immune-boosting properties, respectively. Combining these with dark chocolate, which is already known for its antioxidant properties, creates a powerful combination that appeals to health enthusiasts.

Legal Considerations and Psychoactive Mushroom Chocolate Bars

It is important to differentiate between mushroom chocolate bars made with medicinal mushrooms and those containing psychoactive mushrooms (often known as magic mushrooms). Psychoactive mushroom products, containing compounds like psilocybin, are illegal in many parts of the world. However, in some jurisdictions where psilocybin has been decriminalized or legalized, psilocybin-infused chocolate bars are also becoming available online.

If you are purchasing mushroom chocolate bars for their health benefits, ensure that the product you're buying contains non-psychoactive medicinal mushrooms. Reputable sellers will clearly indicate the type of mushrooms used and their intended benefits.

What to Look for When Buying Mushroom Chocolate Bars Online

When shopping for mushroom chocolate bars online, here are a few things to consider:

Ingredient Transparency: Ensure that the company provides clear information about the mushrooms used, the source of the chocolate, and any other added ingredients.

Dosage: Functional mushroom supplements come in varying strengths. Look for products that clearly specify the amount of mushroom extract per serving.

Certifications and Lab Testing: Reputable brands often conduct third-party testing to verify the purity and potency of their products. Certifications like organic or fair-trade may also be important to some consumers.

Customer Reviews: Always check user feedback to get insights into the quality and effects of the product.

Shipping Policies: Check the seller’s shipping policies,mushroom chocolate bars for sale online       especially if you're ordering from an international seller, to ensure your product arrives fresh and in good condition.

Final Thoughts

As the world of health foods continues to expand, mushroom chocolate bars stand out as a novel product that marries indulgence with potential health benefits. With so many mushroom chocolate bars for sale online, consumers have easy access to a variety of options that can suit their taste preferences and wellness goals. Whether you're looking to enhance your focus, reduce stress, or simply enjoy a delicious chocolate bar with added benefits, mushroom chocolate may be worth exploring.

However, it’s crucial to research products carefully and choose reputable vendors to ensure you're getting a quality product that aligns with your needs. As the demand for functional foods grows, mushroom chocolate bars are likely to become a staple in the wellness and gourmet sectors alike.

[matoitech]

i already have multiple lion guys w/o manes designs for sale bcuz ive been trying to make one i want to keep for so long lol

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Chow Chow Puppies | Grisha Dog Kennel

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More Info: https://grishadogkennel.com/chow-chow-puppies-for-sale/

[nervosims]

🍺🐝TENDER: week four

🍷 recap

Jeremy has a Silver Sales Talent Badge

Jeremy is now the manager of Lion's Mane Saloon

Lion's Mane Saloon is now Rank 4

Remy is now an adult

Cliff has a Gold Stocking Talent Badge

Remy has a Gold Cash Register Talent Badge

Tski rejected Remy's proposal to go steady

Lion's Mane Saloon has a functional second story!

TENDER: week four

now onto:

NAJJAR: week four