#urban order

[townpostin]

JNAC Conducts Major Encroachment Removal Operation in Sakchi SNP Area

The Jamshedpur Notified Area Committee (JNAC) launched a significant encroachment removal operation in Sakchi SNP area, targeting unauthorized structures. A major operation by the Jamshedpur Notified Area Committee (JNAC) aimed at removing encroachments took place in the Sakchi SNP area, focusing on Chhaganlal Dayaljee Jewellers and HDFC Bank. JAMSHEDPUR – The Jamshedpur Notified Area Committee…

[traegorn]

Shadowcasting, Mia Graves Book Three, Is Now Available for Pre-Order! (Updated)

So this has been probably one of my most productive years creatively in a long time. Back in January I published my first novel, The Witch and the Rose, and followed it up in June with a sequel, Bloody Damn Rite. Well, today I'm excited to officially announce the third book in the series, Shadowcasting, will be available on 12/15/2024!

Like the earlier books in the series, you can pre-order the book on Kindle immediately, and it will arrive on your device December 15th ready to go -- but this time you can also pre-order the paperback version too, either through Amazon or through your favorite bookseller with the ISBN 9781088207031! (edited to add paperback pre-order) Honestly, I'm super excited about this one. It's probably my favorite book in the series, and I can't wait for you guys to get your hands on it. Here's the back of cover synopsis:

Winter has clawed its way into the heart of Parrish Mills, and something far darker may have come with it. When Mia Graves, a witch with a habit of getting into trouble, and her best friend Riley Whittaker stumble across a grisly scene along the Wabash River, they find it reeks of dark, forbidden magic and has left at least one charred body in its wake. With the help of young Bobbi Crawford, the further Mia and Riley dig into the events that took place on that cold Indiana morning, the more dire their circumstances reveal themselves to be. Between a stolen grimoire and a group of young witches who may not know how dangerous their actions are, shadows loom in the dark of winter. And one of those shadows may be more dangerous than anyone imagined.

So yeah - pre-order the book on Kindle or pre-order the book in paperback (ISBN 9781088207031) today!

(Also, and this is unrelated, the non-Kindle, DRM free ePub version of Bloody Damn Rite is now available in my Patreon store too)

And, y'know, if you want the earlier books in the series:

The Witch and the Rose ISBN: 9798869132666 Available Via: Amazon / Kindle / ePub / Direct Order

Bloody Damn Rite ISBN: 9798330220373 Available Via: Amazon / Kindle / ePub / Direct Order

[becca-e-barnes]

Ngl I'd absolutely kill for a threesome with Bucky and Natasha 😍 I mean ,,, the constant shifting in power between the two of them of who is more dom of what's happening??? And the idea of being reader being the main focus of all this??

"Thats OUR good girl."

AGDJAKFLSL My little sub brain could never 😔

I don't remember the last time I wrote a lil threesome where the reader is submissive so I guess that's what we're doing today ✨

But the thought of both of them bickering over who can make you feel best while you're right in front of them is so hot. Nat thinks she understands pleasure best whereas Bucky argues that he knows what you like.

They agree that toys are out of the question because that wouldn't be fair and you're thankful for that. You hardly know how you're going to handle them competing without adding toys in.

"She's such... A good girl." Bucky groans, unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the floor while Nat kisses up your bare neck, sucking and nipping your skin.

"The best girl." Nat hums in agreement. "Our good girl." Her slender fingers pinch one of your nipples while Bucky's mouth engulfs the other and you don't remember ever being this wet before in your life.

"She's all frustrated, bless her." Nat's other hand trails up your thighs until she reaches your sex, luxuriating in the feeling of your slick arousal against her fingertips. She knows what she's doing. You can tell that even by the gentle, calculated strokes against your body. She's only aiming to tease; to get you so worked up you beg her for relief, rather than Bucky.

"Have a taste." She removes her hand, extending two fingers to Bucky who gladly removes his mouth from your breast before engulfing the fingers with his mouth.

You hear his low groan, his eyes fluttering shut and it makes you almost writhe with need.

"Now that you've had yours, it's my turn." Nat withdraws her fingers, slipping out of her dress before settling on the bed between your legs. "You have a choice, sweetheart." She purrs, kissing a path from the inside of your knee, up your thigh and back down again. "Bucky might not last very long inside you and that would be disappointing, wouldn't it? You're so warm and wet and tight, it might all be too much for him."

You don't know whether to agree or not. You don't want to risk embarrassing Buck but at the same time, you'd be very disappointed if he wasn't able to fully prove how good he can make you feel. If you only get this experience once, you need it to be the very best it can be.

"If you like, I'll help him take the edge off while I take care of you. I'll let him fuck me and get his first load out of the way so he can give you the attention you deserve." Her voice is soft and sweet, your fingers tangling in her hair hoping it'll drive her mouth where you need it most.

Bucky looks like he would protest but who in their right mind would reject an offer like that?

"Y-yes. Okay, fine." You're so desperate to be touched, you'd agree to almost anything.

"Sweetheart, when it's your turn, I'm going to ruin you. Gonna make you watch how hard Nat cums for me, just so you can see what I'm going to do to you later." Bucky's confidence makes Nat laugh from between your legs.

The strokes of her tongue are feather light to begin with, trailing slowly over your soaked folds, slurping your arousal greedily. You don't miss her low moan as Bucky presses into her but she manages to stay focused, giving your clit the attention you needed.

Taking you apart is the entire plan here. You might be their focus but they're both smart enough to know that it's easier to win when they've sabotaged their competition.

[saint-of-ossaville]

Oh we just remembered that the last thing Bruce said, at least on-page, to Jean-Paul and Azrael was no more deaths (see below cut), and then chronologically Arkham City: The Order of the World happens, and The System has Azrael go on this holy mission and…

— Arkham City: The Order of the World Vol 1 #2-3 (Jan-Feb 2022; 2021, DC Comics) by Dan Watters (W), Dani (A), Dave Stewart (C), and Aditya Bidikar (L).

(Under cut is Batman telling them no more killings, assuming that Azrael was the one to do them. Saying this again to avoid confusion: The below panels are prior to the above ones.)

— “Dark Knight of the Soul, Part One” of Batman: Urban Legends Vol 1 #8 (Dec 2021; 2021, DC Comics), reprinted in Sword of Azrael: Dark Knight of the Soul Vol 1 #1 (Aug 2022; 2022, DC Comics), by Dan Watters (W), Nikola Čižmešija (A), Ivan Plascenia (C), and Ariana Maher (L).

[nugothrhythms]

The old and the new performing together in Southern California again

[brucie-baby]

family dinner........

[pinkytoothlesso11]

Challenging Destiny chapter 27

Jim, Toby and the rest of Team Trollhunters put their plan to defeat Gunmar and reveal magic to the world into action.

Trollhunters future-past and present tackle Gunmar in a explosive fight, while the rest of their allies battle the Gumm-Gumm’s. So it's a good thing most of Arcadia is evacuated from Town center thanks to the combined efforts of Colonel Kubritz and Ophelia Nuñez...

[derearchiviatoria]

No-stop city 1967–1971 Archizoom Associati (1966–1974)

[j-esbian]

in the face of animal crossing pocket camp closing, can i just say. i don’t understand why new horizons was like that. after acpc the next animal crossing game should have been amazing and yet,

acnh feels very stale very quickly imo. it has the bones of an animal crossing game (unlocking shops, filling the museum, etc) but the villagers are sooo samey, and it feels like there’s fewer interactions and games between them than there was in acnl. (and i know this isn't a new criticism but it feels unfinished. harv's island co-op in the final update feels like a weak alternative to letting lief, kicks, katrina, etc. have physical stores on your island.) but i do love having the ability to build and customize your own furniture, to an extent. the new furniture designs are great and i especially love that villagers have more versatile clothes options. sheep can wear shirts!! everyone can wear hats!!

but also, acpc has WAY more furniture and clothing options than acnh. and i love the way the villagers work there: they have a set personality and a set style. and you can help them give gifts to other villagers or give them fashion tips, and your relationship improves more (im pretty sure ?) if you pick the option that’s The Right Style. it makes it feel like you're actually getting to know them, and it gives a little bit more variation because a cranky jock FEELS markedly different than a cranky cool guy

[normalbrothers]

the idea of getting a peaky blinders themed tattoo is so hilarious to me i would not do that, but i'm imagining a guy rn getting that silly undercut and then tattooing 'by order of the peaky blinders' on one of the shaved sides and how big of a beeline i'd make around him, etc

[ageekywriter]

AN: This is a snippet from my newest chapter update for my fate grand order fic. If you are a slowburn enjoyed, please consider checking it out:

Jeanne Alter stifled a cry as she closed the short distance between them in an instant, burying her face into the crook of his shirt. Both arms wrapping around him to keep him in place, he could feel her hands digging into his back where he felt like the bruise had been.

His movement was reflexive as he kissed between the white folds of her hair, that single strand that tickled his cheek and nose as he did again. Ritsuka wrapped his arms around her and he smiled at her antics. He smiled because he understood.

Someone had saved me.

A breath of relief escaped him, and those aches and pains faded a little more.

The loop had reset.

He kissed beneath the folds of her white hair, thumbing his fingers through the holes in her jacket, his hands brushing her skin.

“Thanks for saving me,” He whispered to her.

“Idiot,” She mumbled against him, though he could feel the smile of her lips on him. There was a firmness in her fingers speaking to the fact that he wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon. He was perfectly fine with that.

[non-cannon]

Protagonist of an urban fantasy story who is new to magic/the magical community gets taken to a magical restaurant by their new magic friend who's showing them the ropes.

Protagonist ordering a burger: I'll have that with your 'eye of newt' sauce.

Friend: You really don't have to try that hard to fit in. You can just get normal toppings

Protagonist: I know what I'm doing, and I want the eye of newt sauce. I'm sure I'll like it!

Friend who is suddenly wondering just what kind of psychopath they've befriended: Oookaayy

The waiter takes their orders and later returns with their food.

Protagonist: takes a bite and immediately spits it out What the hell is on this thing? takes the top bun off and sees a weird sauces with little balls in it

Waiter: That's the eye of newt sauce

Protagonist: There's no way in hell this is eye of newt sauce

Waiter: Of course it is. The eyes are harvested from The Eastern Red-Spotted Newt

Protagonist: You mean this was made with real newt eyes? What the fuck?

Friend: I thought you knew what you were doing with the eye of newt sauce

Protagonist: I thought it was magical world slang for mustard. I thought I was ordering mustard on my burger. Eye of newt is supposed to be an ye olde term for mustard seeds! You people eat actual newt eyes?

[dyrewrites]

Pale Blood - your jealousy is adorable and we're all going to die in this cab

Upstairs, Den was fighting a laugh as he followed Delmas out of the bloodbank and the laugh was winning. “Did you and that,” He glanced behind him to assure those ears weren’t listening, “thrall have a thing?”

“His name is Ron and he’s a ghoul, not a thrall,” Delmas stated, throwing the lock as they passed it.

Den hurried ahead, stopping him outside the door, which filled the alleyway with a reverberated clunk as it dropped shut—a sound that sent the birds nesting in abandoned fire escapes and dusty windows chirping into the smog—but Den didn’t budge. 

“I’m sorry,” he accused, hot eyes glaring, “did I offend your boyfriend?”

Delmas bent to Den’s eye level and pushed his sunglasses up, “are you jealous?”

Dramatic lips and a huff preceded the answer, “Maybe a little, what of it?”

Delmas chuckled, wrapping an arm around Den’s shoulders as he continued toward the waiting cab. “Ron and I are just friends,” he assured him—with a small twinge of guilt, “who couldn’t date even if we wanted to.”

As Den moved to slide into the cab, Delmas stopped him, spun him around and yanked him into a kiss; tender, deep, and altogether breathtaking.

Namely from Den, who gasped when released.

“And I don’t,” Delmas said—those big hazel eyes too warm.

Without a word—lost to the taste of that kiss, the promise—Den took him by the hand and led him into the backseat of the cab, where he promptly curled up against him.

Ron took one look at us and knew, Delmas thought as he laid his head on Den’s, his arm wrapping around him on its own, without being asked but accepted, held, his hand kissed. And here I can’t tell if I’m catchin’ feelings, or just desperate for someone to want more than my ass but, “Gods do you feel good.” It was meant to remain a thought, a silent musing, but it slipped out.

And Den caught it with a smile and nuzzled tighter, “So do you...” 

Their cabby kept quiet—reveling in the sweetness of life, of love—as they turned a little too quickly off of Main Street, and a little too roughly for something not driving so much as flying.

And a new thought occurred to Delmas, one he voiced quietly—through the straw of his gifted bloodbag—to Den alone, “Did we flag this cab?”

He shrugged, “I figured it was the one from the club.”

“No, that one didn’t wait around,” Delmas said, careful to keep his voice low—draining the bag quicker than he ought before pocketing the empty.

“Well if it’s not that one, and you didn’t flag him down, and I didn’t flag him down,” Den asked, scooting to cover as much of Delmas as was possible—which was little, but he tried—while his eyes flared brighter toward the driver, “Where’d he come from?”

There was a pause, an uncomfortable moment of confused silence, that Delmas smiled through—what with a protective wolf on his lap.

Then the squawkbox crackled and the cabby said, “Bosch sent me.”

Staring at the hardlight separator, at the rough-cut hair on the back of the cabby’s head—visible only when he turned—no one moved a muscle.

But a growl grew in Den’s throat.

A growl cut with a gentle tug on his sides as Delmas slid him back into his seat and spoke to the cabby, “Bosch sent you?”

“Yeah,” he repeated, “short guy, looks a bit like a ventriloquist dummy?”

Den fell against the seat and covered a slew of giggles but Delmas sighed and leaned closer to the squawkbox, “When?”

“Half hour ago,” The cabby said, explaining further as the eyes of his fare narrowed, “Well, okay he called half hour ago screechin’ he needs his runner picked up from the bloodbank and I got thirty minutes ‘fore ya split. But, seein’ as I ain’t gotta worry of ID checks or locked streets, I got here in fifteen, right lucky too seein’ as any later and I’d have missed ya.”

Den stared, as did Delmas, but neither had anything to say.

Until Den did, “How’d he know we’d be at the bloodbank?”

“He couldn’t,” Delmas answered, grunting as the cabby took a turn too sharp—an impossible task for cabs programmed to follow specific paths, specific streets, at specific altitudes—and slammed him and Den into the door.

“Okay, that was another fib, or a series rather. There weren’t no time limit, I jus’ wanted to toot my own horn,” The cabby called back, voice travelling too easily over the sounds of real horns, blaring horns. “And he didn’t send me to the bloodbank, he sent me to that club ya’ll were at,” the horns of irritated drivers were fading but in their place rumbled the tell-tale sound of a people mover’s proximity alarm—a vehicle reserved for the airspace a few stories above the street. “But then ya went and got in another cab!” he shouted, swerving again and setting off a horn neither of his fares knew existed, “right rude of ya, by the by, knowin’ a ride’s comin’ and hoppin’ into another. I shoulda left ya.”

Gripping the back of the seat, and bracing against the door, Delmas failed to keep the nervous laugh from his voice, “Didn’t know you were comin’.”

“We’re going to die in this cab,” Den told the inside of Delmas’ coat as they swerved a third time.

The cabby laughed. And Delmas laughed, wrapping an arm around Den—hand firm on that seat—as Dolor blurred by too high off the street to see any other cars, the view of its darkened windows and flashing holos coming at him a little too close.

A sudden drop forced Den’s worry to catch and all of Delmas’ excitement—and a bit of that blood he drank too fast—bubbled out with a snapped, “Shit!”

“Oh, don’t worry ya silly little heads,” the cabby promised, “Ain’t no one dyin’ on my watch.”

Voice echoing through the squawkbox, Delmas looked harder through the separator, harder at the source until he could see the steering wheel through the man holding it. Squinting for the glitch and flicker of hardlight, or a beam leading to a transmitter, he groaned when none came.

Every nerve in Delmas’ face pinched tight as he accepted Den’s tighter grip on his chest. “Our driver’s a ghost,” he told him. 

Tensing with another swerve, Den continued to speak into his coat, “Great, maybe we can have his job after he kills us in this fucking cab.”

Again the cabby laughed, echoing through the squawkbox.

[dragonflavoredcake]

Beef: I'm heading to the store. Do you want anything? Etho: A copy of Polybius. Beef: Got it. [Later] Beef: So. I told Bdubs what you said you wanted from the store. Etho: And? Beef: Do you want to tell me why he started crying?

[hopecomesbacktolife]

to me, this particular (and very beautiful)! fanart of Elwing is very reminiscent of Jeri Ryan and omg how cool would it be to see her in a Silmarillion adaption? although that doesn’t and probably won’t ever exist nope haven’t heard of attempt at even one single adaption it would be so cool omg

(source: Tolkien gateway; I think it linked successfully but just in case)

[sarasa-cat]

Fwiw-- common cold #2 is far more of the sore throat, mild bouts of hacking cough, feeling run down and tired whereas NASTY ASS COLD #1 was a full on Stuffy Head So MUCH FUCKING MUCUS MAKE IT STOP that took 5evah to clear out because so much fucking mucus.

Common cold #2 is at that point where it will either be a brief annoyance and gone in a day or three, or it will decide to blossom into mucus-fucking-hell. Hopefully it won't. It doesn't have that feeling and is mostly a nasty sore throat and full body laziness.

I would like it to clear out soon.

(Have foodie food to omnomnomnom. Very good museums to visit. Clothes shopping to do. Favorite haunts to re-haunt. etc etc. Film to shoot. And so forth)