#there could be a number of other reasons as to why there are so many dream apologists

[bunnys-kisses]

(ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ mad(ly in love) max｡ ⊹˚.⋆

partially inspired by this by @angldelight before it got away from me! <3

max knew you looked better in blue than red. and if you did look good in red, it was the red of the his team rather than the garish red of ferrari. he believed the statement that everyone is a ferrari fan even if they don't know it, because if they saw a photo of you, they'd have brand loyalty to the stallion for the rest of their days.

there was a reason why your face and name were everywhere in your home country. you were a pride and joy to the nation you called home. but, max was more than happy to stake a claim on you.

max liked you because you challenged him. far too many women would bend over backwards for the three time champion, but you simply glared him down with your hands on your hips. you stood toe to toe with him even if there was a height difference. but you kept your gaze steady on him.

"don't fuck me over again." you said, "or you'll regret it."

"i would never do it on purpose, princess. maybe you should watch where you are going from now on." he bite back in response. he noticed a twitch in your hand, like you wanted to grab him by the front of his driver's suit and pull him close. either for a punch or a kiss.

it would eventually lead in kisses. max liked when you were mad because then that meant he could flip the script and get ferrari's little princess on her knees with a mouthful of verstappen cock. it was honestly cute, while he wanted to dive into your sweet cunt and make your insides sticky with his cum. he'd have to make you acquainted with his size.

max verstappen was fuckin' crazy though, being involved with him was like being a deer and getting your leg caught in a trap. the type of obsession that clamped around you, dug its teeth into your fragile skin. you were so cute though, something some delicate and soft. formula one was for the toughest, the mental and physical strain of it all (that could be why he was so... off). and while max believed in you, he worried.

where you were going, who you were with. you hadn't only been in monaco for a few years and while you had the likes of charles to help you around. when he heard about men you had met, max felt something curl inside of him.

it started inauspicious. he slipped an air tag into the back pocket of your jeans while you were in your driver's room getting ready for dinner with some guy that max couldn't even remember the name of. he was all smiles as he wished you a great time.

too bad there was an issue with your car. how could you have a flat tire already, you just got the car? and when you asked your date to come pick you up, he totally ghosted you. little did you know that while you were struggling with you car, max went to meet your date and give him a few firm words. that was when the real mad max came out.

"listen mate. you're never going to give her what she needs. hell, not even what she wants. there are plenty of fish in the sea." he got a little closer to the other man, "but you can't have her."

"why?" your date swallowed.

max nodded and flashed that winning smile, "because she's mine. and i know she may have talked so nice to you. she's like that. charming. but sadly she's taken. so i think it's in everyone's best interest that you delete her number and go back to finding your perfect match." he patted the man on the shoulder like they were buddies.

"and if i don't."

max's smile only grew, "i don't like people fucking what's mine. she's taken, mate. move on." he couldn't verbalize exactly how he'd rough up the other man. he didn't want to make headlines. but there was something in his gaze that made your date high tail it out of there. your number blocked and deleted.

max then used the air tag to find you at a bar close to your flat where you were drinking away your sorrows. but, don't worry about that! max was now here to make sure that you had the best night ever. while that meant ending up drunk and curled up in his bed, but he didn't mind. he was even a gentleman and created a barrier of pillows between the two of you. no funny business. even if he wanted to. when he eventually fucked you, he wanted you conscious.

that air tag would come in handy, turns out that you wore the same pair of black levi's jeans. max was wondering if he had to get more air tags to place along other items. but, he lucked out with that one. you thought it was a strange coincidence that he seemed to be where you were.

and he'd laugh and tell you, "small city, right?"

it took months of hard work but, eventually he got to sink his pretty cock into your prettier hole. the happiest day of his life. he had invited you on his boat for the afternoon, and while he didn't expect much. he wasn't expecting your pretty tits on such display. a pretty red checkered print bikini and sandals as you stayed close to max.

and then alone, out in the waters. you ended up straddling max's waist while he sat on one of the seats up on the deck. it was couch-like and allowed you two some room as you rubbed your sweet pussy up against the front of his shorts. his hands dug into the plushness of your ass as he moved against you. you were painfully pretty, and it drove max insane. you'd try to run him off the track, but he'd always get an apology by having your pretty tits in his face and your pussy around his cock.

"you feel so good." he said, "you're so soft."

you whimpered, "i'm not that soft. you keep feeding me all this good food since i came to visit! my team is going to be pissed." you squirmed a little.

he kissed at your breasts in front of your face and laughed, "well, then. i guess i'll have to keep feeding you better food." his teeth then nipped your left breast and it made you whine. his hands continued to grope you ass and you squirmed a little more.

you didn't realize that you're movements only made him harder and he had to force himself to let go of you to take his cock out of his shorts. this was a dream come true, after months of being your little shadow.

"you know how to do this?" he asked.

you held onto his shoulders and chuckled, "yes, i've had sex before." which made something cold run through max's body, but it was quickly heated up once more when you sank down on him.

other men might had had you, but he was going to make sure you were his forever. no need to get stuffed with another man's cock, when you have max who, as he might add, can get into you quite easily. it was like you were made for him as you started to ride him. he pulled you into a kiss with one hand while he groped your behind with the other. he felt your core shiver around him as you continued to move up and down on his cock.

this only lit his need for you more. if you were so good on top, how good were you on the bottom, or at your side, or stuffed full of fingers and toys as max pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. he wanted you, he was mad for you. while he'd sometimes pull dirty tricks on the track, he had a whole other set of skills for you. because he could never hurt you on the track, too much of a risk for your safety. but he'd bruise your little pussy and cover your pretty soft breasts in large bites. he'd hope that cameras would get a good look at the pretty marks.

a lot easier to scare off men than to see a woman decorated with hickies. if he had it his way, you'd be wearing a little chain with his initials on it. or better yet, chubby little verstappen baby at your hip. the thought made something hot run through him. oh, that unlocked something in his brain as he was balls deep inside of you. he continued to leave a mess of bites on your chest as you continued to rut against him. your back arched a little when he bit one of your nipples.

"i need you to burn that bikini when we get to shore." he said between heavy pants as he grabbed your ass roughly and pushed himself up as much as he could go. his voice was a little strained from the intensity of it all.

"why?" you asked as you looked down at you.

"because, someone might get the wrong idea. and i don't want you getting hurt." he replied. it showed off far too much, too much of what belonged to him.

he rubbed up against you further. his cock poking some of your deepest parts, he wondered if he was the biggest you ever had. or if there was some other guy in another part of the world who took you apart better than him. unlikely. the way he watched you wiped drool from the corner of your mouth as you rode him made him excited.

during his time racing alongside you, he had seen you at euphoric highs of victory and deep anger when losing. but, this was a whole other look, you were far from focused. only really thinking about the cock, his cock, stuffing you full. guess there was no need to get you into his clothes and keep an air tag in your bad anymore, not when you had such a sweet look across your face.

he ran his blunt nails down the side of your thighs and felt you clench harder around his cock. which made sparks appear in the back of max's mind.

"pretty thing." he said. there was a softness to you that he wanted to sink his teeth into. especially the slight chub at your hips, next time he wanted to bite down on the skin and leave pretty bruises across it. you were just so beautiful. he thought formula one was for ugly men because they wore a helmet all the time, not pretty women who made max go insane.

you whined a little bit and started to feel yourself really get hot all over. his cock fit in you perfectly. while lust clouded your head, you honestly did think about throwing out the bikini you were wearing on board the boat. he kissed at your pulse point and you moaned, your pussy fluttered around him.

"i need that bikini gone before we get back to shore." he said.

"why, what will i wear?" you asked a little shy. you couldn't get back onto land with nothing on!

he grabbed at your ass once more and pushed you down on his cock, then held you for a moment. his lips were squared with yours as he said, "i got some extra clothes in the bedroom below deck." he knew that it was either red bull or verstappen merchandise. something that he had a lot of and could get wet.

while it wouldn't show off your pretty figure. the idea of you getting a bit chilled while heading 'home' and having your nipples poke through a shirt with his logo on it made him hotter. maybe he'll turn the ac up in the car on the drive home.

"i don't want anyone to see the bikini ever again. i'll buy you something nicer." he said as he thrusted up into you, "i don't want hungry eyes on you and neither do you. you're not a piece of meat." even though max wished to devour you, you were not meat. he'd say you were more like fruit. something refreshing and bright. something to crave on a warm day like today.

"i should have something in my bag." you said as you continued to ride him.

he held your soft hips and looked up at you, "no, no." he said then licked his top lip, "wear my clothes, they'll be more comfortable." and it'll hide your figure better.

you were the first to climax, and he managed to get you across the seat of the couch and fuck you from behind doggy style. perfect angle to make sure every last drop. you clawed at the faux leather and arched your back, your sweet noises against the sounds of the sea. your pussy clenched around him as he bullied the tip up against your cervix.

it was important for the two to get acquainted.

he finally finished inside of you and let out a sweet groan. he clenched onto your hips tightly and watched you go fully limp against the couch as you tried to catch your breath. he pulled out and gooey cum dripped out of your poor pussy. ah, it's okay. he simply pushed it all back inside of you.

with the amount he finished inside of you, you were at least 3% dutch now!

when max was finished with you, he knew that he was going to keep the little princess of ferrari. maybe eventually you'll wear the red bull logo across your pretty tits when you entered the paddock. or maybe better yet, the verstappen last name. but for now he'd simply have to stake his claim by shoving all his cum into your sweet cunt. after all it was a safer place to keep it compared to his own fist.

-

even with the start of the new season. his fixation of your cunt didn't end. so what you're on a different team, that didn't mean he couldn't easily go to the ferrari area and just get you to himself. when you win the first race of the season and sing along to your national anthem, max smiles in second. not because he is happy that you are winning.

but because he knew that his cum was dampening the front of your sweet cotton panties. you may have the trophy over your head, but he knew after this, he'd get another chance to sink another load in you. <3

a/n: is this anything? does anyone want more of this????

[blackynsupremacy]

NEIGHBORHOOD

HOTTIE

pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

cw: fluff and smut (18+ mdni)

hotneighbor!nicholas that just moved in next door to you. you heard from your neighborhood girlfriends that he was living alone, single, and utterly fuckable.

hotneighbor!nicholas who you curiously watch through the blinds of your window to see what the hype is all about. it’s definitely all true: your new neighbor was foine.

hotneighbor!nicholas whose muscles would flex as you observe him lugging the largest boxes of things he needed to unpack in such scorching weather. your thighs clench at the sight of the veins protruding on his arms. you didn’t miss the stains of perspiration forming on his pristine white tank top that outlined the toned muscles of his abdomen.

hotneighbor!nicholas who would stop whatever he’s doing when he sees you coming by with two glasses of homemade lemonade. he could use a break. plus, he thought you were a sight for sore eyes with that orange sundress, glowing melanated skin, healthy natural hair, and full glossed lips. you lived right next door, so it was only fair for him to take up your welcoming offer.

hotneighbor!nicholas who you find to be so charming. he loves the lemonade and your company. you both exchange basic information about yourselves, but he doesn’t miss the opportunity to throw some game. “if i’d known my neighbor would’ve been so beautiful, i would’ve moved a lot sooner.” he finds it cute at how bashful you get when he compliments you.

hotneighbor!nicholas who obviously asks for your number for “neighborly” reasons. you happily give it to him because it’s not everyday someone would this hot was putting the moves on you like this.

hotneighbor!nicholas who subtly watches the rhythm of your hips sway beneath that sundress after you bid him a farewell, so he could continue unpacking. he wanted to talk to you longer. he wasn’t sure how, but he wants to get close to you as possible, as soon as possible. if you catch my drift.

hotneighbor!nicholas who’d send you good morning and good night texts or he’d just simply check on you. you’d tease that it should be the other way around because he’s the new neighbor and you should be the one making him feel welcome. he’d be such a flirt. you can make me feel welcome in many other ways. 😉

hotneighbor!nicholas who you see taking daily jogs through the neighborhood early in the morning when you go out to get your mail. he wears nothing, but basketball shorts, a cross necklace, and some sneakers. you melt as the sweat of body leaves a heavenly shine on his tanned skin. he’s so built, so fit, so thick. god, the things you’d do have him on top of you right now.

hotneighbor!nicholas who’d ask if you like to take a jog/walk with him whenever you were available. you weren’t the exercising type, but there was no harm in it because you wanted to spend time with him anyway, so why the hell not? on those occasions, you’d get to know each other better. you’d wear a sports bra and shorts that nicholas would find to be ravishing on you, but he’d think you’ll look better without them.

hotneighbor!nicholas who’d help you out with various tasks like gardening. he had a green thumb, so he was a huge help to you when you wanted to plant some fresh strawberries. you love to watch him till, dig, sow seeds, and water the fruit, so it would grow to be the reddest, ripest strawberries for picking, washing, and eating.

hotneighbor!nicholas who you invite over to your house to make treats such as strawberry shortcakes or just to dip them in chocolate sauce while streaming a show on hulu or netflix. he’d use his thumb to swipe away any whipped cream or chocolate from the corner of your lip then suck it right off in front of you while holding his intense brown gaze with yours.

hotneighbor!nicholas who’d watch you from his bedroom window as you’d strip your clothes before going into the bathroom to shower. he couldn’t see your actual naked body, but he’d see the shadow of your nude silhouette outlining the shape of your breasts, the erected point of your nipples, and the curve of your hips and ass. it gets him rock hard every time and he’d have to take care of it himself.

hotneighbor!nicholas who you watch practice throwing a football in his backyard shirtless. his arms are massive. you imagine what it would feel like having them secured around your waist. he could’ve went to the pros, no question, but you’re lucky that you get to see this up close and personal instead of a loud, crowded stadium.

hotneighbor!nicholas who you go to for help when your car wouldn’t start. you didn’t mean to interrupt him as he was looking like a greek god while bench pressing what seemed to be a weight of 150-60 lbs. he doesn’t mind helping you because he knows the basics, so he comes over promptly with some tools to see what’s under the hood. you spectate as he meticulously rummages and moves within the car.

hotneighbor!nicholas who’s so focused in finding the root of the issue. his brows are furrowed and he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth while his hands move like clockwork. you notice a piece of hair fall from in front of his face and he attempts to blow it out the way, but to no avail. you take it upon yourself to brush it back. he feels the lingering touch of your palm through his scalp, his mind already going to the gutter.

hotneighbor!nicholas who’d ask for you to get your car keys after he’d find the solution and close the hood. he instructs you to get in the car and start it now. once you comply, the engine is purring like normal. feeling grateful, you sing your praises to him. “let’s see you have a green thumb and you’re a skilled mechanic. is there anything else your hands are good for?” you ask, crossing your arms. he’d give you a playful lopsided smirk with a flirtatious glint within his eyes, “they could do a couple things—that’s if you’re willing to find out.” he knew exactly what he was doing.

hotneighbor!nicholas who you invite over for dinner to repay him for fixing your car. you weren’t sure if you’d see this as a date, but you still wanted to make a good impression. you do your hygiene and you’d put on a black square necked top with a long black, floral slitted skirt around your waist. you prepare a spread of your speciality dishes and bring out your best wine.

hotneighbor!nicholas who’s a gentleman that shows up at your front door with flowers. he cleans up nice with a black button up that’s slightly unbuttoned to show off his signature gold cross necklace with some levi’s, dress shoes, and a rolli on his wrist. damn! you graciously take the flowers and giving him a brief hug. it was short-lived, but inhaling his clean, musky scent while he places his large palm against the slightly exposed small of your back had you feening.

hotneighbor!nicholas that enjoys every single thing that you’ve cooked for him. he’s so content in the meal, he informs you that when he settles down he hopes to have a wife that looks and cooks just as good as you. hopefully, you were picking up what he was putting down.

hotneighbor!nicholas who genuinely enjoys your company, your smile, your laughter, your humility, your confidence, your wit, your intelligence, your humor, your insight, your passion, your kindness, your empathy, your honesty, and your absolute everything.

hotneighbor!nicholas who tells you he’s now craving for dessert. oblivious to what he actually meant, you tell them there’s some leftover strawberries and chocolate sauce in the fridge, so you go to retrieve the items and go to prepare them on the counter with your back turned to him.

hotneighbor!nicholas who gets up from his seat at the table and saunters over to you to slide his large hands around your waist. a smirk rises on his lips as soon as you freeze from his touch. he bring his lips against your ear to whisper, “i’m craving something sweeter than that, doll.” he’d pull you in closer, so that the plushness of your ass would meet his hardened arousal.

hotneighbor!nicholas who peppers fiery kisses all around your neck. when you whimper out his name, it drives him to push aside whatever was in front of you on the counter. he turns your body to face him completely before hoisting you up on top, so that his lips could finally be attached to yours in a fervent kiss. your arms instantly wrap your his broad shoulders as he brings your legs around his hips while your tongues desperately swirl around another. you both had been waiting for this moment for weeks on end.

hotneighbor!nicholas who slides between the slit of your skirt to spread your thighs wider, so that he could rut his hips up against yours like an animal in heat. “you see what you fuckin’ do to me?” he rasped whenever his growing, stiff girth came in contact with your already damp center.

hotneighbor!nicholas who easily slips his hands beneath your skirt. his fingertips fidgeting with the waistband of your panties. he wants to dive straight in, but he won’t go further unless you verbally give him the green light. to him, you may be this sexy piece of ass that deserves some good dick thrown your way, but also you’re worthy of respect towards your boundaries in your house. he’s just being a good neighbor.

hotneighbor!nicholas who once he has your consent, deliberately slides your soaking underwear off for his thumb to instantly reward your clit with pressured circles. he chuckles as you beg him to delve his fingers inside of you. “damn, have a little patience, baby. m’gonna take care of you.”

hotneighbor!nicholas who wastes no time to slip his index inside just to stretch you out a little before his middle joins in the party. his thumb is still doing circles around your clit as his fingers curl and bump against the gushiness of your wet walls. with each moan of his name escaping your mouth, he gains in speed.

hotneighbor!nicholas who’s a bonafide munch. he takes his fingers away and kneels down with his head right in front of your awaiting, wet pussy. he demands that you look at him as his tongue takes a deliberate lick against your dripping slit. your hands grasp onto his head for dear life as he makes out with your pussy. his tongue may move in varying speeds and shapes around your clit. it drives you crazy when he hums while shaking his head side to side rapidly to go as deep as possible while he gets you to your high. “ah, fuck, this pussy is the best thing that’s ever happend to me—want you to cum all over my face, baby. c’mon, give it to me.”

hotneighbor!nicholas who continues to remove the rest of your clothes until you’re completely bare. he stares, mesmerized because you’re more beautiful than he could ever imagine. you reciprocate the praise after you help him out of his clothes. he finds it so sexy of how crazy you are for him. you even make the man flush with red.

hotneighbor!nicholas who already has a condom ready, but you’re on the pill and you want to feel all of him, so you let him know he’s good to go.

hotneighbor!nicholas who shudders in ecstasy as he fills you up inch by inch until his tip mingled with the edge of your cervix. he gives you a moment to properly adjust to his size before he begins to give you the immaculate strokes of his skilled hips.

hotneighbor!nicholas who has the stamina of a sexually starved madman as you go for many rounds in different parts of your house. the counter, sofa, your bed, and lastly the shower. he takes you in different positions and angles that no man has ever done with you before and he’s made you cum first each time. he could go all night, but he sees that from being so fucked out and overstimulated, he decided it was time for some proper aftercare and a goodnight’s sleep in the nude. he was by far, the best fuck you’ve ever had. what are good neighbors for?

[manasurge]

I just wanted to do a bunch of snippets of Mourynn and Wynne during the time when Wynne volunteered to be her Caretaker after she awakened (this was orignally meant to just be lineart, but it is easy to mistaken Wynne for Caithe here, so I added the flatcolour version to remedy that)

I figured I may as well include some lore stuff under the cut (mostly Wynne related stuff, but other Firstborn era stuff from around this time as well. Sorry that this is so long lskjdflk):

(Sorry this is all in point form, it’s just easier for me to write stuff out and digest it this way. Suffer with me and my ADHD way of synopsis writing)

After Mourynn (or whoever she was originally meant to be) finally emerged from her pod a year late, she was frail and unstable due to her “unique condition”. It was a miracle she was alive at all, due to her extremely late arrival that was accelerated after her pod died for a short while (due to Vallotash accidentally killing her and trying to reverse her mistake, affectively taking over her body instead and erasing her own memories and replacing it with what remained of the Firstborn’s. More here in the origins link: EPILOGUE)

(The first few pics up top portray Wynne helping Mourynn after Awakening, where her head is hurting terribly and she has no strength to stand on her own yet).

Since there were no Menders at this time (as none of the Secondborn would even exist for another year or so), and their “Late-bloomer” was in need of urgent care or she was bound to perish yet again, Wynne volunteered to be her Caretaker while she was under quarantine for a number of reasons, not all of them made apparent due to sensitive matters.

In addition, Mourynn was originally supposed to be part of the Dawn trio of Firstborn, but due to the uh, situation, she awoke during the cusp at midnight, effectively making her a Nightbloom instead (well, she insists anyways), which was another obligatory reason why Wynne felt compelled to help look after her (with Wynne being the oldest in the cycle, and Mourynn being the youngest).

However, what Wynne never spoke about was the secret she learned about their origins with Mordremoth, a secret she kept with the Pale Tree, and where this gut feeling of unease loomed over in her mind with the consistent unusual things that kept happening with this final pod.

She could sense that something felt very off and she didn’t know what, but she didn’t want to take the risk in case her suspicions were correct. The fact she couldn’t sense Mourynn’s Dream connection or sense her at all was alarming enough, but she didn’t want her worries to be true or to have doubt that one of their own was a danger to them, especially one whom she was greatful to be alive at all. But in the worst case scenario where she was right, she needed to be the one to do what had to be done for all their sakes, even if she really didn’t want to. To protect the secret as long as possible, and to keep the rest of the Sylvari safe, if it had to come to that.

By becoming Mourynn’s Caretaker, she would be able to monitor her at all times and keep watch of her condition. While she hated how horrible it felt having to watch their youngest with a metaphorical knife behind her back, she still did genuinely want to help her get better, trying her hardest to not bond too deep of a connection in case she had to sever it.

But Wynne being Wynne, she was hospitable and kind-hearted by nature. She felt guilty having to watch Mourynn with this ulterior motive and having put doubt in someone who barely had the chance to exist, but she made up for it by working tirelessly to figure out what it was that was causing her constant declining health.

And that, she did!! While Wynne wouldn’t admit that she was avoiding this last approach (after many other various trials) due to what it might entail (dragon connection), Wynne was able to discover Mourynn’s magic deficiency, and had to muster up creative ways to get some magic into her system (with some help of the other Firstborn finding different sources of magic for her to use).

Once Mourynn’s physical status started to recover, she wasn’t uncomfortably bored and bedridden for long hours of the day anymore. Her head hurt way less, she had energy, and was visibly less wilted too. Now Wynne, despite the potential risk of increasing the potential Dragon-link threat by giving it a source of magic, was still relieved that she was able to discover the cause of her problems, and now she just had to help her find a way to maintain it (which is where Mourynn started practicing both Artificing and Cooking TOGETHER to make herself magically enhanced food, as well as potions for on-the-go, but food seemed to be the most effective and long-lasting).

Now that Mourynn was able to actually thrive and be more independent, the two of them could finally converse more thoroughly and do other things. At this point, Mourynn’s entire existence was being connected to Wynne and having her around (even though she desperately wanted to see and know Caithe more after she rescued her from the Dream, she was often out and about elsewhere with Faolain, leaving her with Wynne, who seemed to be the only person who insisted in keeping her around. Something she became reliant on, being her only true comfort and familiarity).

At this point in time, Wynne was the person she was closest with, the two of them spent a lot of time doing other things. Walks around the Grove, Wynne told her stories, Mourynn TRIED to tell her anything, but her memory was nearly void save for the last few moments, which Wynne reassured her was alright (despite it being one of the many signs that worried her).

They would prepare food together, nap together, cloud watch/stargaze, play with Fern Hound pups, Mourynn would show her some of the shaping she had been practicing (exceptionally well too. Potentially concerning) but was too self-conscious to show anyone else (especially Kahedins, who she was forming a one-sided rivalry against). They shared a lot of fond memories and experiences in this short time, and even though Wynne was wary of bonding at all (in case of the worst), she reluctantly cast all her doubts aside as she didn’t see her as a threat anymore, despite the quiet little voice in her head that was still left uncertain, which she chose to ignore.

Now with Mourynn more independent, Wynne could continue pursuing some things she had on hold or could only partially work on during her caretaker role. She would leave the Grove for a while, and would encourage Mourynn to get to know her fellow Firstborn while she went to attend other matters. Mourynn, of course, was TERRIFIED at this thought and avoided them isntead. While she enjoyed the new freedom she had, she hadn’t realized how dependant she had grown to Wynne’s presence, choosing to quietly watch the others in the background (or just go elsewhere to be alone instead).

It took a bit of effort, but Wynne basically had to properly re-introduce her to the others (how embarrassing!), despite the fact that they had all been living under the same canopy all this time. Wynne couldn’t get too upset since this was kind of her fault for making her this way due to her obsessive guardianship, which hindered proper socialization. Mourynn’s Nightbloom-ness was extremely apparent as well, earning her the cheeky little “Wallflower” nickname from the others (primarily Faolain) due to how little she connected with them, and her overall avoidance and quietness (not to mention she was a little weird and off-putting, but no one was going to say that to her face. Except for Faolain, of course).

Mourynn did eventually start to interact with the others more (albeit a bit cautiously). The Pale Tree helped nudge her in the right direction and break the ice. Mourynn could sense something wasn’t quite right about herself and that was influencing her skittishness, but the Pale Tree brought her comfort when Wynne was away (which made it obvious how depressed and lonely this made Mourynn feel, but it was necessary. This also lead to Mourynn spending a lot of time in the Omphalos Chamber).

While she didn’t connect with everyone (as not everyone was there anymore, such as Riannoc being dead before her awakening, and the others that left the Grove during this time whom she only got to briefly meet beforehand), she did finally get to see more of both Caithe and Faolain (the Toxic Throuple stuff will be for another post >:3), and would eventually be tutored by Faolain in fine tuning her Mesmer skills as her nightmarish illusions/hallucinations were getting out of hand and causing havoc as Wynne was away longer and longer, and how her teleportation abuse was becoming a bit of a nuisance as well (and Faolain of course, would love to take this offer to be her mentor. I’ll save this for another post later too).

Aife also became one of the other Firstborn she bonded a bit more with (as Mourynn was meant to be a Dawnbloom initially, so Aife was a bit saddened to see her fellow pod-mate separate from them), but she did offer Mourynn a place of respite whenever she needed somewhere quiet and peaceful (the Garden of Dawn secret area, which also has the waterfalls which Mourynn felt very comfortable in, of which she will discover her affinity for water later as well).

Of course, everything leads to the end where we all know what happens to Wynne in the Point of No Return chapter, but unfortunately Mourynn does not. She won’t find out Wynne’s fate until much later, and will only be left with the ongoing worry and sadness that Wynne left for Dry Top and was never seen again, only leaving her with some uneasy parting words that felt like a potential final goodbye (as Wynne was already aware that Faolain might take things too far, considering how much she was hounding her already, and knew the secret she was carrying was heavy and dangerous). (Also to note, Mourynn isn’t meant to be portrayed as like, a shy quiet uwu softie. She’s not. She’s just a bit avoidant and quiet (and yes shy), but in a more wary/cautious/antisocial-esq kind of way. She has a dry sense of humour, is quite blunt, and is a bit of a menace who talks a bit weird and misunderstands things a lot (because I think it’s hilarious), but is a very good listener and will keep many secrets. She’s trying hard to act normally, but her dragon-brain wiring is also making this very difficult. Also with technically being a parasite (as that’s what Vallotash is), it’s partially in her nature to latch onto someone and be a bit co-dependent (as seen above), even though she contradictorily wants to be completely independent as well, causing a lot of internal conflicts in her mind and emotions)

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #211

1. Hi I’ve been looking for this fic for ages but I can’t for the life of me remember how I found it. It was a short one where angels needed touch and comfort, but heaven wouldn’t touch aziraphale because he was “filthy”? And he was very touch starved and Crowley eventually found out at the end after centuries with no touch. Hope you have a great day/night! - anon

2. I’m looking for a fic where aziraphale and Crowley plan to fight against heaven and hell. They place wards in their homes. They also end up having a following of people joining them (threads and social media). Eventually people also direct their prayers to Aziraphale? Crowley also ends up being like his first disciple. - anon

3. Hello. First of all thank you thank you thank you for still running this blog over the years and for being so organized and for all the recs I found through here! Now if you or your followers could maybe help me detect a fic which, it's a little awkward bcs I opened it and skimmed a little but then my phone kinda died for a while so I don't have too many drtails on it (Im so sorry!) But from the little I do remember: Aziraphale and Crowley are expecting a baby and I think Aziraphale is the one pregnant, and he has a dream during which he talks to their kid (who appears in it like a ball of light) and reassures it that he and Crowley are going to take care of everything and not to worry... he calls it a "bright kid" / "incredibly bright" / something similar as a pun in a later conversation with Crowley... I THINK it was multichapter but idr how long or if it was finished or not but if any of it rings a bell to anyone PLEASE PLEASE let me know!!! And thank you again! - anon

4. Hi!! apologies in advance, I don't have many details but i'm looking for a lost fic that was human au with aziraphale as a bookshop owner, where aziraphale and crowley's relationship developed slowly, with mutual attraction/pining. i don't think they ever explicitly confessed feelings to each other but after they kissed their relationship sorta kept developing from there. at the end, i don't remember the reason why, but they ended up having a fight and crowley leaves the bookshop, but then the bookshop catches fire. most of the books are burned but one in particular that was saved in the fire was a book that had pressed/dried flowers that aziraphale kept from the first flowers crowley gifted him (i don't remember if crowley was a flowershop owner in this au or if he just gifted aziraphale a flower bouquet separately). they make up of course and have a happy end. thanks in advance if anyone can find this fic! - @princessmavin

5. Hello!!! I hope you re good! Can you help me find a fic? It was a aziracrow oneshot where they do a lot of snnoging and smut on azi couch and i remember that Crowley had serpentine fangs (and he was venomous) and he bited azi very much It was funny and good, i ll be very very happy if you find It. Thank you!!!! 💚💚💚💚💚💚 - anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[recurring-polynya]

a cool thing about writing bleach fanfic is that i have read certain parts of the canon so many times that i feel like i know it really well and then i'll realize there's something i have absolutely no clue about. today's example: in the wake of Ichigo storming Soul Society, how widespread was the knowledge that Urahara had been assisting him?

Aizen knew, obvs, for Aizen reasons, but some of the stuff he mentions, like Urahara's known base of operations being in West Rukongai-> the involvement of known Urahara associates Shiba Kuukaku and Shihouin Yoruichi and other clues probably had a number of characters such as Yamamoto, Ukitake, Kyouraku, Unohana suspicious. I feel like Soi Fon and Kurotsuchi could easily have put it together as well, but I did not get that vibe from them so either they didn't or they were just too distracted or in Kurotsuchi's case, he probably did put it together and just didn't care (or pretended not to care)

When the captains finally show up in Hueco Mundo, we learn that Urahara had been working with the Gotei for some time so obviously his involvement has been known at some high enough level of security clearance.

Did Byakuya ever officially report the fact that Ichigo Hollowified right in front of him, which may not have meant much to him, but probably would have been a big tip-off to Yams. On one hand, it does not feel very Byakuya of him to leave something like that out of a report, but on the other hand, I really feel like he just kept it to himself.

Would Rukia have mentioned Urahara in her debriefings after she was arrested? On one hand, I do not think she understood who Urahara was and would not have thought much of mentioning him. On the other hand, Rukia is a "snitches get stitches" type to the marrow of her bones and I feel like she would have intentionally wiped any mention of him from her narrative 99% on principle and 1% for the purposes of protecting Ichigo

If I were banished from Soul Society and hiding out in the Living World, I would use an assumed name, probably all the time, but AT VERY LEAST for the case of interacting with active-duty shinigami. The only person who actually did this was Isshin and I honestly believe he just changed his name for wife-guy reasons.

Ichigo did, very much, straight up tell Ikkaku that Urahara taught him to fight and it was quite clear that Ikkaku was fully aware of who Urahara was. Did Ikkaku tell anyone this or otherwise do anything with this information? I feel like he did not.

Does Ikkaku have a security clearance???????

I would not give Ikkaku a security clearance

If I were going 100% by the manga, I would assume that Yoruichi ghosted after they failed to arrest Aizen, given that she's still very much banished, but in Honey Dish Rhapsody, she apparently hung around with Soi Fon for a while. Is it possible that she had some meetings with the Gotei higher ups in the interests of re-establishing a relationship/working on getting the banishment reversed? My heart wants to say no, but Yoruichi often makes herself freely available to the Gotei in filler arcs, so who knows?

When the Advance Team first goes to the Living World, Renji goes to stay at Urahara's in the interest of "asking" Urahara why he put the hogyoku in Rukia (I assume "asking" is a euphemism for breaking his nose). I feel like this could be the natural follow-on to the idea that Renji just got handed a file of classified info related to this mission and is freshly Hot Mad at this dude he didn't know existed up until now.

Presumably, Rukia also could have given Renji a more detailed version of her time in Karakura in a non-official capacity

Presumably also, the Karakura kids could have gone around telling anyone who would listen about their Mysterious Shop Keeper Friend

I think the answer I'm leaning towards is that the Gotei higher-ups knew about Urahara's involvement and re-established communication with him, possibly in an obfuscated way so as not to run into trouble with Central 46 (fairly easy to do, since they were dead at the time). It's a pretty poorly kept secret, but on the other hand, Gotei op-sec seems to lean pretty heavily on the assumption that people who accidentally learn state secrets don't know what they are looking at and will most likely forget it in a day or two anyway.

[stxrrnightjxr]

Autistic Regulus, whom I hold so near and dear to my heart, they can never take you away from me. 😔

As an autistic person, (who gets probably way to hyperfixated on certain characters) these are my HC’s:

- He was diagnosed late. Like, REALLY late. Canon compliance, he wasn’t at all, and in some modern AU it was probably late into his twenties, maybe early-to-mid-thirties, and after he was out of his parent’s hold. Because Walburga and Orion could never accept that there was something wrong with their daughter, son (because I live for trans Reggie) so why should they ever enable anyone to believe that he was ‘mental’? Or ‘slow’? No, a Black child wasn’t those things. (OOC; Just for reference, autistic people are not, nor do I think they are, mental, crazy, slow, or any of those things. I am autistic myself, and have many friends who are, and know that is not the case 💚)

This also leads to a lot of trauma for Regulus, and a lot of repressed emotions. He learned how to mask very quickly, and very well.

- he’s sensitive to bright lights (which his light blue/gray eyes do not help with), and so he squints his eyes a lot. Barty once told him he looked like he was scrutinizing his face, and Regulus simply said ‘I am, it’s ugly.’ (He doesn’t believe that, but he’s not going to tell you that.) (I love sneaking in unrelated Bartylus)

- along with bright lights, he’s sensitive to loud noises. That was hard for him when he would have to listen to, or endure, his parents screaming. When they’d scream at Sirius, Regulus would hide up in his room, in the closet, with his hands over his ears, hoping nobody called for him. When he was the one being screamed at, he’d just zone out and hope they would just go away.

- he used to be that he couldn’t bear to hold eye contact, like it physically hurt him; but his parents beat it into him that it was disrespectful, so now he’s ended up being that guy who will just dead-stare into someone’s eyes if they’re talking to him. It often unsettles them, and makes Regulus out to be some ‘weird, creepy kid.’ (Regulus was originally confused by this; wasn’t he doing it right? Do you look at their eyes or no?)

- his voice is very monotone. He was often able to get away with this, because it sounded much like his father’s. (Orion had a number of peculiar habits, and quirks. No one talked about it.)

- intimacy (even friendly touch, like hand-holding, hugging) is difficult for him. Regulus does not hug, he does not hold people’s hands. (Unless it was Sirius’, because Sirius was the one who’d hold his hand when he was melting down every other night. Sirius’ hand feels too familiar to hurt, like most others’ do.) he’s only comfortable with touch once he REALLY gets to know a person, and even then, there’s still strict no-no’s. (No touching his hair, his neck, his wrists, his legs, his feet, his stomach, (basically nothing below his waist) )- in retrospect, not much. (Those rules had more leeway with Barty, he supposed.)

- he HATES certain sounds. Cannot stand chewing, cannot stand repetitive sounds (even though he occasionally makes those, only when he’s alone), sounds of bugs, cannot stand certain textures, too- velvet, for one (formal events were nightmares, for that, and many other reasons), microfiber, and certain denims.

- he loves the water. It’s very calming, has a nice sound, has a nice texture. He listens to thunderstorm/rain sounds to go to sleep to, (because another thing is he cannot tolerate silence.)

Again, this may be me way too much projecting, but I really don’t care 🫶

[idontknowreallywhy]

WIP-what-on-earth-have-I-got-myself-into-here…

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Ash had had access to both of their files for a long while… the visible parts anyway. The extensive redactions? Not so much. Well… now his new GDF rank meant he could get past those too but he hadn’t dared. Partly because he wasn’t sure it was a can of worms he was ready to face. Not now he had Scott back after so long.

The other big reason he’d resisted was because they’d know. The decryption keys were personalised… they’d know both who and when. And three weeks into the new job was a little early to risk getting fired.

Or worse. Knowing them… probably worse.

Tonight though, hours of the puffed up, clueless idiots squabbling about the new outbreak had forced him to relive so many parts of his experience ten years before that the phantom pain was almost unbearable. He rubbed at his lower leg, trying to fool his mind into thinking he was comforting the missing arm, soothing the nerves that tormented him but that he could never reach.

Scott hadn’t lost anything visible. But Ash knew they’d stolen a no less crippling part of him too. He’d watched his friend from a distance, scratching at a a similar untouchable itch in so many subtle ways. How much of his friend’s confident, controlled outward demeanour was as synthetic as the fingertips Ash realised he was rapping against the desktop? He flattened his hand, grimacing at the supposedly-unnoticeable delay between thought and movement that had rewritten his future.

Ash knew what his friend had lost. And he couldn’t help feel responsible - he should have been there. He’d spent countless sleepless nights trying to figure out how he could have prevented it all, if he’d spotted the clumsy sabotage as he should have, swapped with another jet… maybe he could have got there in time. Got him out.

Instead he’d just sat there shaking and bleeding and sobbing and helpless as first Scott and then Val’s radios had cut out. If Ash hadn’t passed out from the shock of his injury perhaps he could have got her out at least…

No. They’d got it right in her jet. She wouldn’t have known a thing.

EHZ007 was all over Scott’s file. And each time the reference was used, the following sections were blacked out. If he knew why, maybe he might get closer to finding out what had happened and why.

At the very least he might be able to reach out to his friend, to help him find closure. If he knew better what had occurred between that last desperate shout over the radio and the day that the gaunt face of his best friend had asked him to leave the ranch and never return.

It would look highly suspicious if the first Top-Secret graded file he accessed post-promotion was that of his old wingman. They were clueless in some ways, but not in all of them.

Giles, though. He looked at a lot of the TS material just for fun and bragging rights, if his boasting was to be believed. And this evening Ash had watched the man unlock his work phone with 1234. Someone that uncreative with passcodes might just have used the same one for everything…

Officer ID, rank code, personal pin, age in days. The man’s date of birth was on his Wikipedia page and so… Ash now had everything he needed.

Except the courage. He’d been staring at the encryption alert box for over an hour. His shoulder ached.

He disconnected his prosthetic and dumped it on the table before snatching up the scotch bottle and refilling his glass.

He typed in the number.

PASSCODE ERROR.

He swore and retyped it.

No! The man had clearly used another pin. Damn.

He drained the glass and dropped his head to the desk. It was probably just as well.

Out in the hallway his great grandmother’s clock chimed once.

It was later than he thought.

It was… tomorrow.

He sat up, cursing his own idiocy and typed the code again, increasing the last digit by one. The screen refreshed and the blacked out sections disappeared.

He was in.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[wife-beam]

i love bingge v bingmei bc it immediately opens up the potential for multiple parallel worlds and travel through them if you just break things a LIL and there is nothing better i could have asked for in an extra. thinking intensely about bingge dropping into a world where shen yuan is a vampire. for fun and profit

[crossbackpoke-check]

Dysprosium, Mary Soon Lee

dysprosium, AN 66, is a silvery-white rare earth metal. its name is derived from the greek dysprositos, meaning “hard to get at”, owing to the difficulty in separating and isolating this rare earth element. dysprosium is used to measure neutron flux, to fuel reactors, and to activate phosphors. terfenol-d is a magnetorestrictive alloy, meaning that it changes shape when a magnetic field is applied, and is used to manufacture underwater acoustic systems.

jason “robo” robertson, dallas stars #21 for @simmyfrobby’s nhl periodic table poems <3

[prince-liest]

your orchids are so cool! can we see the entire collection?

I will ABSOLUTELY show more photos of my current hyperfixation, ehehehe, thank you so much! <3 I've moved the cattleya to my eastern windowsill and my dendrobium nobile is chilling in the place of honor on the kitchen counter where my biggest bloomer at any given point in time goes, and one of my violets is also in my bedroom for some pizzazz, but the rest of the orchids and violets/streps are on this plant shelf!

She's a bit tall, so I've added the dendrobium nobile (Angel Moon 'Love Letter,' lovely but mild fragrance!) side by side to avoid stretching the dash too much, haha. I have it lit with Barrina LED lights on timers, and they have a super cozy glow, don't let my camera auto-editing the lighting to be so stark fool you.

The top row is hard to get a good zoomed out pic of because the Oncostele Red Silk 'HOF' flower spike is so damn tall, so I've cut it out of the pic since it's not blooming yet - but soon! This is where I try to keep all my currently-blooming flowers, and the oncidium takes up a ton of space at the moment... and as you may be able to see, the yellow and harlequin phalaenopsis are soon to be losing their blooms! They're both growing new leaves and roots at the moment, and the yellow phal actually has been in bloom on the same spikes for 9 months straight, which is absolutely insane. They're both no ID grocery store plants, which tend to be bred for really prolific blooms!

The second row is currently housing my blooming violet and strep, as well as my two smaller non-blooming streps. The bottom left one is actually a mini, so it will be staying in that small pot forever! One of the huge pros of violets for me is that they don't really exceed a 4" flower pot size ever, no matter if you've had them ten months or ten years.

The mini strep is Fernwood's Silhouette, the larger one is DS Riushele (google this one, the blooms are a deep purple and super frilly!), the violet is Frosty Cherry, and the far right strep is Bristol's Mascara!

The bottom row is where I try to keep my currently non-blooming orchids, but the little rescue I found at the store with most of the flower spike snapped off and one measly (and super pretty) flower left made it down there as well for lack of space, haha.

The tallest plant here is a Dancing Lady oncidium orchid that has an amazing and strong fragrance. It used to be in my kitchen and filled the whole kitchen area with its scent in the mornings! The smallest orchid in the clear pot is actually one I kidnapped (with permission) from my program director's office to rehab it, lol. I'll be giving it back once it puts out another flower spike. The big pot on the bottom right has a pure white phalaenopsis that's currently growing a new flower spike for the third time in my care, and it's a flower that my mom gave me, so it holds a special place in my heart!

Then the very top left tiny phalaenopsis orchid is just a little purple grocery store mini that had almost no roots left for a long time. It's flowered twice in my care before I messed up its roots trying to separate it from being double-potted, so I'm very proud that it's now growing a new leaf. And lastly the two violets are Cajun's Queen's Lace (left) and PT Wild Plum (right, post plant surgery).

And that's the orchids and violets! :D I actually have, uh. Checks watch. 41 plants including hoyas, nerve plants, a fiddle leaf fig, and a pothos, not to mention the aquarium garden and the edible patio plants, so this isn't actually all of them, but the rest are elsewhere in the house and aside from the ones I mentioned in the first paragraph aren't in the orchid/violet category!

[the-busy-ghost]

There are many reasons my interests are more geared towards mediaeval Scotland than mediaeval England, but at least one of them has to be the fact that I am completely incapable of Being Normal about the Lion in Winter and Shakespeare's second tetralogy.

[airyairyaucontraire]

You can see the process of reconstructing this person from the ground up in the new Netflix documentary Secrets of the Neanderthals (I think that was the title) and, to sweeten the deal, it’s narrated by Patrick Stewart.

Or hey, given Captain Picard’s love of archaeology, you can just pretend it’s him.

every prehistoric human reconstruction has me thinking “I want to smoke weed with this bitch”

she looks like she would have been an awesome neighbor, like she would have loved menthols and called me baby

[firebirdsdaughter]

Listen…

… You don't let someone else kill your Assistant Captain. It's just not right.

[lockea]

I've been seeing a lot of Discourse around outdoor cats that talks past one of the biggest problems addressing community cats/outdoor working cats so I thought I'd chime in with my two cents.

Many arguments I see just... don't think about the cats at all? Or don't consider the logistics of actually addressing the feral cat problem in a humane way. It's always about how outdoor cats shouldn't be outdoors, which is neither realistic nor helpful.

I used to volunteer at an municipal animal shelter in the USA that had a TNR program (Trap, Neuter, Return) and also adopted out community cats to local farms and businesses. Here's my side of the story.

"Your cat doesn't need to be outside" -- Yes, correct. Your domesticated (non-feral) house cat does not need to go outside at all. They can have a fully actualized life safely indoors. When I see this argument, proponents of indoor only cats are correct in most or all their arguments regarding this.

"Outdoor cats are the largest invasive species in the world, and decimate bird populations." -- This is also correct, and part of the reason why you can help by bringing your house cat indoors. Cats are the largest invasive species. Spay and Neuter your cats, bring them inside, and socialize them so they don't become feral.

"TNR doesn't work." -- False. Whether we like it or not, feral cats exist. We have two methods by which we can address the feral cat population -- decimating them (humanely euthanizing the whole colony) or TNR. For a long time, euthanasia was the preferred way to address the feral cat problem. Afterall, if the cats aren't there, doesn't that save the local wildlife population?

Except that we found, studying these colonies, that when a colony is wiped out, the cats of another colony will spread into their territory and continue to have kittens and the population of feral cats is neither controlled nor diminished.

Hence, TNR. What we found performing TNR on cat colonies was that this controlled the population of the colonies, allowing them to stay in their territory, which kept other colonies from spreading (especially colonies we hadn't performed TNR on yet). We at the shelter felt this was the most humane way to control the feral cat population and safely deflate their existence without dealing with the population blooms that euthanasia caused.

"What about kittens?" -- Kittens from these colonies were brought into the shelter, socialized, and fostered out until they could be adopted. Some of these semi-feral kittens needed special homes to be adopted into, but this was the best quality of life for these cats.

"What about cats that get missed during TNR?" -- We would return to the colony several times over a period of several years to perform TNR on the same colony. We mark cats that have been neutered by clipping their ear (this is done humanely, but is the most reliable way to tell if a cat has been neutered so the poor thing doesn't have to have surgery 3-4 times in their life). Also, during the TNR process the cats would be vaccinated to ensure disease did not spread from the colony (i.e. rabies). Still, even getting 60% of the colony TNR'd would dramatically reduce the number of kittens being added to the colony each year. This controlled the population by allowing the territory to naturally deflate in size over time, buying us time to address the larger feral cat problem.

"What if the colony was in an unsafe location?" -- There were two ways we addressed unsafe colony locations -- remember, we know that when the colony is removed, a new colony will move into its place, so we tried not to move the colony unless we really felt the cats or the public was unsafe -- one was to move the whole colony to a new location. Preferably someplace like a warehouse where we have an agreement with the owners of the warehouse. Some of the cats were even relocated to shelter grounds as our community cats. If the colony was small enough we would bring them into our Feral Cats room and adopt them out as community cats.

"What is a community cat?" -- The way the program worked, was that anyone who needed a working cat could apply to the program. These were often rural farmers or businesses with warehouses that needed rodent protection. We trained the farmers and businesses on how to acclimatize the cats to their new home, and as part of the agreement, they had to care for the cats (veterinary care, vaccinations, food and water). This gave businesses and farms an alternative to expensive and environmentally unfriendly rodent control, and also gave these feral cats good places to live out their natural lives.

"Can't you just adopt out feral cats?" -- No. Cats that have not been socialized around humans as kittens, or who have several generations of feral cat in them could not interact with humans in a way that did not cause them undue stress. This was not a humane way to handle feral cats. However, when a cat was brought into the feral cat room, they would be monitored for up to a week. If the cat displayed signs of being semi-social or fully social (hanging out outside of their den, allowing staff to pet them, showing interest in staff in the room), then we would either move the cat into the adoption room or place them in foster to be socialized before adoption. Feral cats who displayed signs of being able to live full and healthy lives with human companions were NOT adopted out as community cats. We also observed this behavior during TNRs and would do the same for those cats too.

"But aren't cats bad hunters?" -- Compared to other species, cats are not the most effective form of rodent control. This is true. However, you have to understand that feral cats exist. There is no "undo" button we can push to stop them from existing. We have to deal with the problem we have right now, which is to safely and humanely decrease the number of feral cats in our communities. And yes, we do that by using cats as rodent control in the community.

"What can I do?" -- Stop saying community cats shouldn't exist. That's not helpful and doesn't solve the problem we have. Bring your cat indoors. Spay and neuter your cats. Adopt from shelters. Volunteer with a TNR team. Support TNR efforts in your community. Recognize that those of us actively dealing with the community/feral problem are trying to do what is in the best interest of our communities and the animals we love. We aren't sitting over here saying these cats should exist -- a feral cat will not have the same quality of life as one that is indoors with a family -- but we have to address the problem in practical terms. We don't have the moral high ground to just do nothing while pontificating solutions that have no basis in actuality.

And yes, it's okay to celebrate community cats. If your local farm has a couple of working cats, that means that farm is helping participate in the safe deflation of the feral cat population. Don't shame a farm or business for using community cats. We're all doing the best we can to solve the problem that we have.

[targaryenluvs]

DELICATE

pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader

warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD

summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

word count: 2.09k words

a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz

taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s

PART TWO

coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.

he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.

coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.

coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.

“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”

the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?

but right now you felt at ease.

you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.

coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.

and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.

so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.

“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.

every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?

he wanted to puke.

the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-

you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”

he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.

“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.

you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.

the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.

but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.

the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.

your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.

stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.

“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”

the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.

coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.

his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.

“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.

“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,

“you won’t be for long.”

you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”

he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.

“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”

this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.

coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.

would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.

you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.

his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.

corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.

your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.

you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.

[vampiricgf]

☆ FAVORITE GIRL

ᝰ you think he's just another frat boy with meaningless flirty words for the person he sits next to in a boring class (he's down horrendous)

frat boy satoru x f!reader, college au, somewhat established relationship you guys are classmates, sfw no smut, alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, just lots of him being an idiot with a massive huge earth shattering crush <3

"And how's my favorite girl?"

"Worse, thought you'd skip this class again and we'd have some peace." You roll your eyes as you slide the straps of your backpack over the back of your chair.

Satoru Gojo, nuance Sig Ep and unfortunately glued to your side since the first day of statistics for reasons unknown to you. You'd made an effort to avoid members of greek life on campus, not wanting to get involved in party culture or whatever new dramatics were unfolding with its subgroups. That only seemed to encourage him though, casually throwing his arm around you through the duration of lectures and begging in that whining tone of his for you to come by the house.

You never did, you also pointedly ignored most of his text messages and actively regretted ever having to give him your phone number after the one assignment you'd been paired up for. Outside the occasional drunk text where he'd plead for you to show up, which did make you feel both bad for ignoring him and a little high off the attention. Not that you'd ever admit to clicking your phone lock and grinning to yourself in bed on those nights.

"C'mon, I'm the highlight of your day!" He shoots you that signature megawatt smile and you stick out your tongue at him, scooting your chair in the opposite direction and creating a wide gap as you sit down.

You see him frown and for a half second it looks genuine, making a pang of guilt reverberate through you so you scoot back to where you were and he resumes pestering you with some latest escapade in the Eps house as you both wait for the stream of students to peter off and the lecture to begin.

"Hey so, why you been ignoring my texts?" He pulls a pout and god you wish it wasn't actually cute.

"You send me weird combinations of emojis Gojo, what can I say to that?"

"It's Satoru," he quips almost immediately, barely allowing you to finish.

"Alright, Satoru, it's because you send me weirdo shit. Say hi every once in a while and maybe I'll say it back." You shrug, opening your laptop and preparing yourself to block out his incessant whispering for the next hour while you take down notes.

~

"You actually came!"

The sheer volume in the cramped, would-be living room of the house made you wince in tandem with his shout as Satoru threw an arm around you.

"I'm just humoring you so you stop bugging me!" You shout back, accepting a cup of god knows what from his hands and already formulating a plan of when it would be polite to bow out for the night without a barrage of where'd you go texts.

He doesn't answer you, too busy immediately yelling at some other guy over the volume of the music but you don't miss the way his hand slides down your back to settle at the lower curve, just above your ass. It makes you smile a little, despite your own misgivings about the scene you're in.

But quickly it becomes too much, being jostled by a permanently sweaty and horny crowd in such a cramped space, and you find yourself drifting outside to a patio sparsely populated with only a handful of smokers. The alcohol buzzing inside your brain makes you crave one, a thick, acrid stream of smoke spreading like thick flower petals blossoming inside your lungs.

One girl catches your eye and slowly you meander over to where she's perched, away from the rest on a railing that's seen one too many coats of poor paint jobs.

"Could I bum one off you?"

"You got a dollar?"

Lamely you pat your hips, absentmindedly searching for one until she lets out a soft laugh and extends the pack in her hand out to you. Marlboro lights, the gold top of it shimmers faintly in the dim light as you slide one out and accept the lighter she passes you.

"I tell myself lights mean I'm working on quitting. What a load of shit." She huffs out a laugh to herself as you flick the lighter and it gives a few sparky coughs before the flame catches, burning the tip of the cigarette into a solid ember cherry.

"I'm Ieiri," she says cordially as you hand back the deep purple lighter.

You give her your name before taking a deep drag of the cigarette, enjoying the feeling of it settling in your chest.

"They should invent a kind of cigarette that doesn't kill you." You say absentmindedly and she cracks a smile.

"Too bad the "healthy " cigarettes of ye old days had asbestos in them."

That makes you laugh, enjoying the way it flows into the air with the breeze that plays against your skin, like a lover running fingers over it and giving you gooseflesh.

"Wait, you're the girl Satorus got statistics with right? Tuesdays and Thursdays?" She asks between puffs, flicking ash off into the dark.

"Yeah, the very same. I figured I should finally take him up on the offer to come over, I've blown him off so many times." Saying out loud makes you feel a little like an ass, he may get on your nerves but he's never been anything but sweet to you.

"You know he's like, obsessed with you, right?" She says with another laugh and it makes you raise a brow.

"Oh yeah?"

She shakes her head, another drag before continuing. "Oh yeah. Gets too drunk every weekend and cries in the bathroom because you didn't show, has a crisis every day because he doesn't know what to say to you in texts. I've never seen him excited about a math course before this semester either, usually it's any excuse to cut class until a prof bitches at him."

With every word a strange sense of giddiness grows in tandem with the alcohol drenching your brain, and you can't help but think about those devastating blue eyes. The opposite of rose colored glasses but it fits, a shade of comfortable blue that tints the world because of him and suddenly you're gripped by the urgent need to go back inside and find him.

"Hey, thanks for the cigarette but I'm gonna go find him. See you inside?" You crush the butt out with the toe of your shoe, grinding it down and giving Ieiri a wave goodbye as the wall of thumping bass and neon light swallows you back up.

It strikes you as incredible how a house can turn into a labyrinth when filled to the brim with bodies and only offering the occasional flash of strobe or neon lights to guide you in the dark. After when feels like hours and checking nearly every room you come across for Satoru, without luck, you find Ierie once again leaning against a closed door with a particularly bored expression.

"Satoru she wasn't saying she was leaving she said she was coming to find you, dummy. Open the door."

As you sidled up beside her she shot you a conspiratorial glance before pulling you closer so you could hear her over the din.

"Can you tell him you're right here? He's such a whiny drunk." She rolls her eyes but you can tell it's playful, although you get the feeling this has happened more than once.

Hesitantly you put your palm against the door, feeling the distant bass thrumming through the wood. "Hey Satoru? I didn't leave, I'm right out here with Ierie!"

There's silence on the other side, making you frown in concern until the door is suddenly wrenched open and you nearly fall right against him. Despite clearly being drunk his hands come to grasp your upper arms gently to steady you before yanking you inside the hazy dark of what you assume was his bedroom.

"You're welcome!" You hear Shoko yell through the door as he sits down in a huff, still holding onto you, against a well worn futon.

You can't help but giggle at the way he almost curls around you, as if determined to attach to your side like some sort of sucker fish. With a bit of wiggling you manage to pull back, sweeping a few stray strands of hair from those baby blues as you do.

It's in that moment, when your fingertips brush his skin, that everything seems to pause. The noise outside seemingly vanishes, and it's like only the two of you exist in a comfortable bubble of silence. You never really noticed how his eyes looked almost crystalline before, too pretty to exist.

"Who gave you eyes like that?" You murmur, more to yourself but nevertheless he beams down at you.

"So you do like me, huh?"

The way he says it, so boyish, so... happy. You can't help but smile back, a shy thing that barely tugs at the corners of your lips.

"Duh, of course I do."

That makes him frown a bit, brows knitting in thought and somehow it made him look even cuter. No fair.

"Then how come you never showed up before? And you don't text me back?" A little pout forms on his lips as he finishes and you're struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

With a superhuman effort you keep yourself focused on answering him. "You're, well... All this," you gesture broadly with your hands as you pull away slightly. "And I'm just a girl you have stats with. I thought maybe you were just yanking me around, being flirty in class but that's it, you know? I didn't wanna look stupid getting my hopes up."

"A girl I have stats with? You're joking, right? You're everything." He says incredulously, eyes wide as if more shocked than insulted that you could've looked at the situation that way.

Heat rushes beneath your skin at that, you're everything, and you know it's not the alcohol making you lightheaded. In your silence he continues.

"Y'know I'm not just messing around with you, I think about you all the time. Sometimes you're all I think about all day-"

With a surge of confidence you grab him by the front of his shirt, pulling him down and cutting him off with your lips pressed against his. It grips you like a fever, a crushing need to taste him. It's all sloppy teeth and tongues and spit but it feels perfectly serendipitous at the same time, an otherworldly calm that takes hold of your mind as your lips move against one another.

As you open your eyes into his you can't help the grin that now stretches wide across your mouth, giggling as you press kiss after kiss against his lips, his cheeks, his forehead and soon enough he's dissolved into a puddle of giggles and faux pouts in your arms.

"Will you tell me I'm your favorite girl again?"

"I'll tell you that forever."