#Weed control and prevention

[topsoiloutdoor1]

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[mortiz888-blog]

How to Prevent Weeds in the Lawn: A Comprehensive Guide

A well-manicured lawn is a testament to a homeowner’s dedication, but the persistent issue of weeds can mar the beauty of your outdoor space. If you find yourself grappling with the question of “How to prevent weeds in the lawn?” worry not, for we’ve compiled a comprehensive guide to help you keep those unwelcome intruders at bay. Understanding the Enemy: Types of Weeds Before diving into…

[moonydustx]

First, I solemnly promise to respond to pending requests again.

Second, I solemnly promise that there will only be smut below, be careful with what you are about to read.

--

How does it taste?

part 2 of How does it feel?

warnings: smut, pussydrunk! Law, oral (f!receiving), mentions of alcohol and weed, mentions of a possessive/jealous Law.

MDNI | MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

♫ now playing: Lunch, by Billie Eilish

I could eat that girl for lunch

Yeah, she dances on my tongue

Tastes like she might be the one

And I could never get enough

I could buy her so much stuff

It's a craving, not a crush

Finding the courage to look your captain in the eyes seemed like an increasingly arduous task. Not that before it was simple to hide your feelings, but when you were close to him, intoxicated by his presence, his voice giving orders or just the smell of him near you, it became even more complicated to hide the blush on your face or talk about it. clear way. The only thing that was going through your mind was his body behind you, his voice explaining every detail, his fingers inside you.

Law was not innocent, far from it. He could see your eyes shifting every time he looked at you, how you seemed to avoid being in his presence, especially if it was just the two of you. However, the little game - which you had no idea you were playing - seemed interesting to him, even if some doubts were implemented in the surgeon's mind.

The weeks piled up, as did the frustration in both of you - not to mention the horniness. Your fingers didn't feel as good as Law's, preventing you from getting there or at least finding the same intensity. For him, it didn't seem so good to try to find some pleasure alone, if he wouldn't have your voice next to him asking for more.

That night he had reached his limit, he needed to feel you again, even if it was just a little. Law had waited until the night when you would be alone on the Polar Tang, as they were docked on an island. The control room could be left alone for some time, he who was the captain wouldn't mind that.

The three knocks on the wall as if the door were slamming caught your attention.

"Hey, Captain." for a brief effort, your voice did not fail.

"Hey." he approached, analyzing his surroundings. "So today you stuck around."

"Yeah, it looks like there's some kind of festival going on today, I heard someone comment above."

"Do you have any free time?" you heard him say, even if your brain had some difficulty processing it. You felt like little prey. "Why have you been running away from me, did I do something you didn't like?"

"Running away?"

"Well, you've been avoiding being in the same place as me. The other day you said that you had even stopped drinking just so you wouldn't be with me and the others and I know that's a lie." he pointed out, stopping millimeters away from you. "Did I do something you didn't like?"

"It's not really that, it's just that I…" the words trailed off from you, the only thing left was to tell at least a half truth. "It's a bit of the opposite of that."

"Did I do something you liked?" He said and it took seconds for him to put together what you said with the fact that you could barely look him in the eye. "Are you ashamed of me?" Law's voice came out in a light, almost cynical laugh.

With wide eyes and feeling shame take over you, you just nodded and didn't have time to think - or to let your body not react on impulse. When Law approached you and pressed his body to yours, all it took was for his face to be close enough for you to give way so he could kiss you.

You had already kissed with the taste of alcohol, weed, laughter and endless nights talking, however, the taste and feeling of desire were something that still caused you some strangeness. Before it had just been kisses to deal with the neediness that life on the high seas can bring, now, that feeling he had brought to you was permeating your mind and he seemed to know it. You felt one of his hands go down to your ass, squeezing it and using it as an excuse to press your body even more against his. Soon, the same hand slid down your leg and just passed lightly over where you needed it most.

"Let's go to my room." he said in a breathless voice.

"But captain…"

"First, no captain. Second, I bet your captain won't be mad at you leaving your post." the second part came out as whispered cynicism from his lips. Driven by will and allowing himself not to think too much, Law just let the words come out of him as he used his hands to open your jumpsuit without any rush. "Seeing you running away from me may be exciting, but solving my problem alone hasn't been enough for me." With the top of your jumpsuit open, Law's hand entered and stopped on top of the damp fabric of your panties, tracing small circles and smiling when he saw you gasp and almost melt in his arms. "Please."

"Doing it alone hasn't been enough either." Ignoring the small space that Law had created to be able to touch you properly, you clung to him, burying your face in his neck while your hips tried to increase the contact. "Please, Law, do that again. I need you to do it." you whispered against his skin.

Trapped to his skin and intoxicated by his touch, you only noticed the atmosphere change and now you were already in Law's room. He didn't care that someone would probably find a book of his lying in the control room, he just needed to feel you as much as possible. Amid stumbling, trying not to let go of each other's lips, you felt your body - already dressed only in the lingerie you were wearing - fall onto his soft bed.

Above you, Law impatiently unbuttoned the shirt he was wearing and threw it away, leaving you almost drooling at the sight of his tattooed chest. Likewise, his jeans found another corner of the room. Propping yourself up on your elbows and trying to reach his underwear, you barely touched the fabric before Law stopped you.

"Not yet." he warned, pushing you back onto the bed and placing himself on top of you. "I need to taste you first."

His lips took yours again, voraciously and urgently. The kisses that were previously only on your mouth began to travel down your lap, catching between your nipples and sucking the tip, while nimble fingers rolled the other. Eliciting moans from you and feeling your hips move almost involuntarily, Law adjusted himself so that you could roll against his cock, eliciting moans from both of you. Fuck anyone could return to Polar Tang at any time, he didn't want to have to worry about that right now.

Law's lips began to travel down your torso, a warm trail on your skin as he dragged his mouth down your belly almost stopped you from thinking, almost.

A rush of lucidity caused your fingers to get tangled in Law's dark strands, removing his lips from kissing the length of your belly.

"Where are you going?"

"I believe it is not difficult to guess." understanding that that would be enough of an answer for you, Law resumed kissing. It was seconds before your fingers pulled his hair again. "What?"

"Law, aren't you thinking about…" your eyes wandered from his face to between your legs a few times.

"I'm definitely thinking about it." his response came out in a light, innocent laugh. However, his expression immediately changed to something more malicious when he saw your face contort in shyness. "Wait a minute, he never did that to you?"

"Well, it's just… I think…" you tried to explain yourself, in vain. "No."

"That really explains a lot." he smiled practically victoriously, but it didn't go unnoticed by him that you were still reluctant. "Hey, if you don't like it, just tell me and I'll stop right away."

"Okay." just a whisper came out along with the movement of your head, agreeing.

Little by little, Law felt your fingers release his hair. For a brief second, he considered putting his hand back there, the feeling was too good to ignore.

Distributing wet kisses along your leg, Law dragged the thin damp fabric that was your panties and set them aside. With all the patience he still had left, the kisses began to retrace their path to your femininity. Almost as if in a perverse plan to make you lose your reason, Law let his lips slide down your thighs and his fingers slid across your pussy, small circles tracing themselves over your still covered clit. Not being able to hold on for long, Law once again tore the piece of cloth that covered your intimacy, the panties bill he owed you was increasing, but he would happily pay.

The small moans that escaped your lips almost forced him to skip all the preparation, for him to sink there and transform your contained moans into requests for more and more. Your wet pussy inches away from him made his dick ache and become even tighter against the fabric of his underwear.

"I don't think you're going to ask me to stop…" he said in a low voice, letting one of his fingers go down to your entrance and penetrate slowly. "I'm kind of sure."

"W-What do you mean by that?"

"The way she's squeezing me here, kind of begging to be eaten." he murmured, reaching down and licking right over your clit. "Fucking delicious."

"Law, don't be…"

"What do you mean, pretty thing?" In order to watch you lose your words again, he sank into your soaked pussy.

Since that fateful day, Law had wondered what you tasted like. At that moment, the only regret he had was that he hadn't done it sooner.

You were sure that even those outside Polar Tang had heard your scream. Law's tongue slid all over your pussy, traced small, quick circles over your clit and when it seemed like he was going to stop, he just sucked the skin back to his lip. If he had been right, he lost it the moment your legs grabbed his shoulders and your hips started moving against his face.

Without letting go of your pussy lips, he reached out as best he could to take one of your hands that were pressed against your face, in a frustrated attempt to contain the noises and place it over his black strands. Even though you hadn't had that feeling in your life, it was almost instinctive. You had already heard Law grunt, mumble, but when your fingers caught his hair while your hips moved looking for friction, you could hear him - and feel him - moan loudly against your intimacy. His own hips were trying to find some friction for his cock, about to explode.

If having an orgasm was good, one with Law's mouth eating you was too much for you. You felt the peak hit you and your vision went dark for a moment, it was too much, too much. How did you go so long without that?

You were happy to open your eyes, still intoxicated, to see Law leave between your legs, a hand drying your fluids from his lips as he reached your face. His eyes seemed as intoxicated as yours.

A sinful vision of the man who had brought you to an unknown kind of paradise.

"You're so delicious." his hoarse voice was starting to pull you back to lucidity. "That idiot of your ex, he doesn't know what he's been missing all this time. I should kill him… Or thank him." his laugh sounded like something more sinister, possessive. "All mine now. You're all mine now."

"All yours." you repeated, mesmerized by the way he looked at your lips. You felt his cock slide lightly through you, brushing your clit and your entrance, a silent request for permission. "Please Law."

You felt every inch enter you and you felt Law sink against your neck, a moan dragging against your skin. You just didn't expect to be interrupted.

"Captain!" Bepo's voice echoed outside, along with some incessant knocking. Law immediately propped himself up on his elbows and looked towards the door even though it was locked. The incessant knocking began again. "Captain!"

"What's up Bepo?" Law grunted, thrusting lightly into you and not containing a slight smile when he saw you pull the pillow to cover your lips. In order to tease you even more, he bent down and sucked your nipple again, hearing you grunt over the cute object.

"We have problems."

"How urgent?" He released your breast with a bop and seemed to get serious, stopping his movements immediately.

"Very urgent." the bear replied.

"Wait two minutes." he replied and Law's eyes turned to you, no longer having the pillow on your face. "Sorry." he whispered and saw you just nod, with a smile.

"We can finish it another day." you whispered back, seeing him look frustrated. "I promise not to run away anymore." He sank into your neck and filled every bit of skin he reached with kisses. "Ikkaku is out she won't see me, can you send me to my room?"

He nodded and soon you were back in your bed, still naked. You found a spare uniform and put it back on, resuming your position in the command room.

The problem for Law was something very simple to solve, a stupid fight that he resolved in a short time, opting to simply use his fruit to tear apart the rival crew that had threatened his crew. When he came back, he already knew he wouldn't find you in the room, when he arrived in the control room in order to steal some more of your attention for himself, Law found you dozing awkwardly in the chair. Apparently, you weren't used to the amount of energy spent to reach your peak.

He made you go back to the room again, even though you barely noticed in your sleep and he took over your role that morning. The taste of you was still on his lips and he had to fight the urge to relieve himself there at the memory of you around him. All yours, that phrase would still accompany him in his dreams.

---

Maybe one day I'll come back and post part three? idk

[whorediaries-09]

shameless;

pairing- rockstar!sirius black x reader warning(s)- substances, 18+ content, hurt/comfort. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- absolutely hate this one ❗

masterlist of 'the seven lives;' series

the slut club

now that you have me, do you want me still?

your throat was raw from shouting the lyrics of the songs you’d penned on a drunk night. but as the line between pretence and reality ended, his kisses became history, hidden behind cigarettes or the occasional puff of weed that painted your skin backstage. his fingers wrapped around your throat, you turned putty into his hold, craving him carnally. the weariness engulfed both of your bodies; the feelings consumed the both of you. his touch was like electricity shooting through every inch of your body as he delicately stripped away every piece of clothing on your skin that restricted him to touch your skin. it always began like this, in the cold echo substances and weariness.

his hands wrapped around your throat, pushing his tongue deeper into your mouth as he ravaged you. he swallowed your moans and whimpers, wrapping your legs around his waist. the beads on his jeans which resembled a star poked the skin of your bare thighs. his fingers dug into your waist as he cradled you, pushing you against the cold metal of your vanity trailer. your fingers numb and shaky, the buttons on his sheer black vest popped open. his lips attached onto your neck, his sharp canine finding home onto the warmth of the blood that ran through your veins.

the pants fell on the floor, the metal of his ridiculous thick belt falling with a muffled clank on the soft carpet. his fingers gathered your arousal against his rough padded fingers, causing a soft moan from your lips. he pushed his fingers into your mouth, letting your taste melt into your taste buds.

‘you’re so pretty stargirl, with my fingers down your throat like that,’ he gasped, pushing himself into you. you pulled him closer at the nickname, as he slowly thrusted into you.

*-

you hated it. you hated the fact that even though it was supposed to be just a public stunt, to prevent his fangirls or groupies, to jump on his bones every time he took a step outside. you hated the fact the public stunt continued into the haze of privacy, leaving you breathless with lip bruising kisses and marks on your neck you had to feed the paparazzi. you hated the fact your heart echoed into deep faltering emotions every second when he was with you, every time he kissed you, every time he felt you. you hated the fact that you were nothing but a pawn in the game for his security.

you had to step out to buy groceries in his jacket. again, a ploy, for flashes or clicks of cameras. it was as if you could feel his hands on your body. the leather jacket around your body smelled like worn leather and parchment, infused with the scent of his musk cologne and cigarettes. you could hear the nicknames that elicited out his throat as he rammed into you, pinning you down to the hard mattress in your trailer. and even though you were drunk, high and hot, the image of his melting eye makeup and his touches melted into you.

sure enough, it ended up on a celeb gossip instagram page. it wasn’t a rumour, it was true- an eye candy for people to feed on. the self-made artist dating a nepo baby who ran away from the clutches of his abusive parents. a classic cliched move that worked every time.

curious, you scrolled through the comments. while most of them were positive, beaming or gushing about the relationship, and how the playboy rockstar had finally settled down for somebody who’d control him, some were…rather rude. none of them about sirius, but you. calling you unimaginable slurs, pathetic inhumane words. it was disgusting, how they narrowed you down to someone based on who you dated, and not your talent. when he was the one with successful parents in the industry, the one who had his name signed with any record in the book even before he was born.

it was vile, cruel, and pathetic. walking into the room of your hotel. you threw the packet of groceries on the floor. you could feel a lump form in your throat, tears threatening to spill from your waterline. a few fruits rolled on the cold ceramic, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. your heart thumped against your ribcage.

a seemingly indistinguishable heat spread in your chest as you broke down, sliding down on the cold wall. you clutched your knees to your chest, resting your head on them as you cried, letting out the fury and melancholy.

did it matter to him? the name calling, the slurs you got called by random people on the internet who didn’t know how much hard work you put into your career? did he care? or were you truly just a pawn in the game?

*-

sirius could feel it. that something was wrong. he could feel it when you shuddered under his touch. he could feel it when you skin was unusually cold under his lips. he could feel it when your heart thumped irregularly fast as his touch wandered over your waist. he knew something was wrong.

but you had your strong suite on as you continued to sing, arching your hips against his crotch as you did so. he turned you around, dipping you then curling an arm on your back. he tried to meet your eyes as he sang his part of the song, but you were determined to not meet his gaze. it made him worry. had he done something?

he turned you around again, carefully missing the step where you had to kiss his neck while he sang. he didn’t want you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. he wrapped his arms around your chest, just below your breasts, breathing onto your neck as you ended the song with the final lyrics. it was last song, that got the crowd clapping and cheering.

bidding them goodbye, the band went off stage with a sirius reeling into his thoughts. he wondered whether the things between the both of you got complicated because of the fake dating agreement. he knew it was an asshole move, just because he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth, just because he couldn’t admit his feelings about you, he held you hostage, telling you he was tired of his random fangirls that jumped on his bones every time he let him have a piece of himself. he held you for himself, just so you he could love you silently. it wasn’t fair to you, because you deserved the love without thinking it was feigned or a ploy. but was troubled.

he hated to hurt you and tell you he was yours. but he did it anyway.

*-

he found you in the vanity van, wiping off your makeup. it wasn’t a part of your usual routine. usually, you’d smoke rolls of weed or take pictures yourself post-concert. sometimes his lips and touch carried you backstage. but never this. for the first time in the night, you locked your eyes with his. through your mirror.

he was wearing the costume he wore on the stage. several earrings hanging of his ears, silver chains intertwined with each other which peeked through the half buttoned up sheer shirt. the tattoos were inked all over his body. the boot flared jeans hung low on his narrow waist. his combat boots hid beneath the denim.

‘hi stargirl,’ he said. his voice was heavy and raw.

‘drink some fucking water,’ you ordered. even though you hated how he made you feel at the moment, you couldn’t help but care for him. you watched as he took the water bottle from your dresser, gulping it down.

‘hi, stargirl,’ he said again, now much closer to you. his eyes were unusually dark and you wondered whether that was the play of the lights.

‘what are you here for? speak up, black,’

‘i can’t come and check up on my girlfriend?’ he countered. while you tried to keep your voice playful and chill, he caught up on the bitterness of your voice. neither did he miss the way you furiously tightened the hold on the tissue in your hand.

‘right. listen black, you’re not getting another fuck play from me. the pda we do is for the public eye only,’ you said, a sternness in your voice.

‘i’m not here for another fuck- what the heck do you mean?’ he asked, nearing you. you tore your eyes away from him as his hot breath fanned over your neck. he turned your chair around, sitting on his knees. he took your hands into his.

‘have I done something?’ he asked, trying to meet your eyes. your gaze burned through the metal wall of the van. he could feel the heat radiate off you as he watched your expression soften, your stony barrier melt. in a cruel haze, you elicited out a cry that made his heart bruise. but it was good, he thought. it meant you were letting him in, communicating your thoughts and feelings with him.

‘yes, you fucking have! you’ve bound me to something i- i- never wanted to do. i just agreed to it because i fucking love you. because you fucking mean so much to me, but you- you’re just using me as a pawn to protect yourself. the world isn’t as easy for me as it is for you! all people have done is now burden me into a slut that has no other personality than her playboy rockstar boyfriend. all of this just to fucking protect you. all of this because i’m stupid, because i love you. fuck you sirius!’  you sobbed.

‘i- i’m sorry.’ he whispered as you sobbed, letting the tears soak into his pale skin.

‘a sorry? a fucking sorry fixes shit up?’

‘i didn’t want this for you. i- i love you. i did this just to bind you to me. it was an asshole, selfish move, but i cannot string words to express my love for you.’

you sniffled, setting your forehead on his. your stomach churned as the realization crept onto you. the tension grew thicker and thicker, the inches between you grew smaller and smaller and the heart beats palpitated faster and faster. neither of you said anything, but it was as if your souls spoke to each other.

‘you can’t love me,’ you finally spoke. he squeezed your hand.

‘i do. you can’t decide or judge how i feel about you,’ you took in a long breath.

‘you’re not playing with me right now, are you?’

‘no.’ he confirmed, his voice strong and confident. breathing heavy, you lowered your nose to touch with is.

‘then show me. show me that you’ll want me when you’ll have me. show me you’ll me screaming out your lungs for me. show me you’ll need me more than you want to.’

‘anything for you, my stargirl,’

the emotions were naked. in a shameless haze when you spread apart you legs for him, he ripped apart your tights. in the raw spiral of love and lust, he trailed his fingers on your bare thighs. the cold metal of his rings contrasted against your warm skin. you felt yourself getting needy by every second, and for the first time, you weren’t afraid to face his need more than you wanted to. for the first time, you weren’t afraid to live your dreams.

for the first time, you were loving someone that was yours.

he pressed his tongue onto your clit, his tongue piercing cold on your warm folds. delving two fingers into you, he sucked on your clit. he drew out an unholy moan, raw from the depths of your throat, as you convulsed around his fingers. rubbing his calloused, rough fingers on your clit, you felt him ravage into you like a starved man. his stubble rubbed against your inner thighs, scratching them raw. you wrapped your legs around his head, bringing your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. he lapped up on you like a dog. your lungs screamed out for him as you felt yourself clench around his curling fingers, your orgasm coiling in your stomach. you felt it explode out of your body and paint his tongue when his voice melted into your eardrums.

‘cum for me, stargirl,’

the stars were white behind your irises, the kisses on your thighs hot and naked. he trailed his lips onto your shaking thighs, promising you his kisses won’t be history ever again.

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

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @alexaduke (if you want to be tagged please reply under this post!)

[haggishlyhagging]

“By 1900 child mortality was already declining—not because of anything the medical profession had accomplished, but because of general improvements in sanitation and nutrition. Meanwhile the birthrate had dropped to an average of about three and a half; women expected each baby to live and were already taking measures to prevent more than the desired number of pregnancies. From a strictly biological standpoint then, children were beginning to come into their own.

Economic changes too pushed the child into sudden prominence at the turn of the century. Those fabled, pre-industrial children who were "seen, but not heard," were, most of the time, hard at work—weeding, sewing, fetching water and kindling, feeding the animals, watching the baby. Today, a four-year-old who can tie his or her own shoes is impressive. In colonial times, four-year-old girls knitted stockings and mittens and could produce intricate embroidery; at age six they spun wool. A good, industrious little girl was called "Mrs." instead of "Miss" in appreciation of her contribution to the family economy: she was not, strictly speaking, a child.

But when production left the houschold, sweeping away the dozens of chores which had filled the child's day, childhood began to stand out as a distinct and fascinating phase of life. It was as if the late Victorian imagination, still unsettled by Darwin's apes, suddenly looked down and discovered, right at knee-level, the evolutionary missing link. Here was the pristine innocence which adult men romanticized, and of course, here, in miniature, was the future which today's adult men could not hope to enter in person. In the child lay the key to the control of human evolution. Its habits, its pastimes, its companions were no longer trivial matters, but issues of gravest importance to the entire species.

This sudden fascination with the child came at a time in American history when child abuse—in the most literal and physical sense—was becoming an institutional feature of the expanding industrial economy. Near the turn of the century, an estimated 2,250,000 American children under fifteen were full-time laborers—in coal mines, glass factories, textile mills, canning factories, in the cigar industry, and in the homes of the wealthy—in short, wherever cheap and docile labor could be used. There can be no comparison between the conditions of work for a farm child (who was also in most cases a beloved family member) and the conditions of work for industrial child laborers. Four-year-olds worked sixteen-hour days sorting beads or rolling cigars in New York City tenements; five-year-old girls worked the night shift in southern cotton mills.

So long as enough girls can be kept working, and only a few of them faint, the mills are kept going; but when faintings are so many and so frequent that it does not pay to keep going, the mills are closed.

These children grew up hunched and rickety, sometimes blinded by fine work or the intense heat of furnaces, lungs ruined by coal dust or cotton dust—when they grew up at all. Not for them the "century of the child," or childhood in any form:

The golf links lie so near the mill

That almost every day

The laboring children can look out

And see the men at play.

Child labor had its ideological defenders: educational philosophers who extolled the lessons of factory discipline, the Catholic hierarchy which argued that it was a father's patriarchal right to dispose of his children's labor, and of course the mill owners themselves. But for the reform-oriented, middle-class citizen the spectacle of machines tearing at baby flesh, of factories sucking in files of hunched-over children each morning, inspired not only public indignation, but a kind of personal horror. Here was the ultimate "rationalization" contained in the logic of the Market: all members of the family reduced alike to wage slavery, all human relations, including the most ancient and intimate, dissolved in the cash nexus. Who could refute the logic of it? There was no rationale (within the terms of the Market) for supporting idle, dependent children. There were no ties of economic self-interest to preserve the family. Child labor represented a long step toward that ultimate "anti-utopia" which always seemed to be germinating in capitalist development: a world engorged by the Market, a world without love.”

-Barbara Ehrenreich and Deirdre English, For Her Own Good: 150 Years of the Experts’ Advice to Women

[wreckedandpolemic]

she's got a boyfriend anyway - matty healy

part iii - if we're gonna do anything...

(mdni) hahahahaha... heyyy... been a while huh?

warnings: 18+, drug use, unprotected sex, cheating

Being home is suffocating you. You love your hometown, really, you do, but you’ve gotten so used to reaching out and grasping a starless London night that the stickers on your ceiling feel mocking. Like you’ve stepped back into the body of the girl whose room this used to be, and her skin is two sizes too small. Every time your mother reprimands you for being out late, or swearing, or smoking, you remind yourself that you’re five minutes closer to being back in London, hundreds of miles away and outside your family’s sphere of control. 

Being with Matty is different, though. He tugs you out of that too-tight skin, leaves you loose-limbed and free. You tell him as much, laying back against his wrinkled, black sheets, a joint burning down between his fingers and smoke hanging in the air. His answering smile is gorgeous, big and bright and a little dopey from the weed. A slow song you can’t pin down crackles from his vintage record player. “Shotgun?” he offers, and you grin, straddling him as he fills his lungs with smoke. Your lips hover over his, your hair falling in a curtain around your faces, shrouding you in fitting secret. He blows the smoke into your waiting mouth and you inhale greedily, certain a faint taste of him lingers in your lungs. You lift your head to exhale, blowing rings just to show off.

He stubs the joint out on his bedframe and flings the roach into the corner of his room, planting both his hands firmly on your hips. You’re crossing that line again; your feet have swept across it so many times since you came home that it’s faded from an all-encompassing warning bell to a faint, familiar tick. You press a kiss to his lips, savouring his responding giggle, your high wrapping the pair of you in a blanket that muffles the outside world. His arms snake around your back, tracing soothing circles over your skin. You relax into his chest, the warmth of his skin soaking into yours. Time drips over you like honey and you don’t know how long you lay like that, relaxed in his embrace.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs absently, petting your hair.

You kiss his chest softly, praise spinning in your slow-moving mind like a coin set on its edge. “Flatterer,” you reply, his gaze kindling a spark in your chest. The album ends, the last notes hanging in the air for a moment before fading away. The silence is tender, pleasant. Matty shifts, freeing his arm from under you and you whine, clinging feebly onto him as he rolls off the bed.

You watch him pick his way across his messy room to where his guitar leans against his bookshelf, smiling softly when he picks it up. He sits cross-legged, back against the wall, cradling the guitar lovingly in his lap. He strums idly, chords humming sweetly in the warm air and washing comfortably over you. “Mind if I play you something, love?”

“Please,” you reply, sitting up so you can see him properly. He teases a few more notes from the strings, then sings along in a low, quiet voice. You’re a little too stoned to process the individual words, but you know intrinsically that he’s singing to you, for you, about you. A solid lump of emotion rises in your throat, your cotton-mouth too dry to swallow it back down.

The song ends after some indeterminate amount of time, its linear passage having escaped you long ago. “D’you like it?” he asks, and you nod. It’s just about the loveliest thing you’ve ever heard; the romance of this tortured artist so dichotomous from what you’re used to. “Good,” he says shortly. “‘Cause otherwise that would’ve been well embarrassing.” Turning to start another record, he takes a deep breath and exhales shakily, unfamiliarly and uncharacteristically nervous. “This isn’t, um… We’re having fun, right?”

You tilt your head at him, hazy brain preventing you from reading his tone. “Yeah. ‘Course we are.” You turn a sleazy, charming grin on him, one you realise you learned from him. “Why?”

He smiles at you, a sweet, lovely thing, a far cry from the filthy, teasing smirks you’re used to. “I just…” He shakes his head as you fascinate yourself twirling a strand of hair around your finger. “Never mind. You’re so stoned.” He huffs a fond laugh and props the guitar back up against the bookshelf.

A dazed laugh bubbles up out of your throat. “Yep,” You pop the ‘p’ loudly, smacking your lips so the noise repeats over and over. “Fuck, your shit is so strong. I feel like my bones are glue. Does that make sense?”

He crawls back up the bed next to you, slipping a hand under your shirt to stroke fond circles into your skin. “No,” he laughs. “But you’re cute,” he adds.

“So are you,” you say, poking the tip of his nose and dissolving into a fit of giggles at the way his face scrunches in response. He kisses you lazily, tongue sweeping your mouth in slow, languid strokes; he kisses you just to kiss you, running his fingers through your hair and smiling against your mouth.

Time passes, your head clears, the platter spins and the sun sinks lower in the sky. It’s dusk by the time you peel yourself out of Matty’s bed and shrug your jacket back on. You’re regretful, gathering your things slowly, casting doleful looks at the warmth of his bed as you inch toward the door. “Just stay, love,” Matty tells you, grinning at the relief on your face.

You don’t bother double-checking, just dropping your bag and jacket and falling back into bed with him. “Thank you, darling,” you grin, pressing your lips against his just to feel them warm on your skin. “You and me, alone together in bed all night… whatever will we get up to?” you tease, hands wandering over his chest playfully.

“I have a few ideas,” he smirks, hand roaming down to your ass and squeezing. You tug his shirt off his body, kissing your way down his bare chest. His hand catches yours as you go to unbutton his jeans and you look up at him curiously before pressing a palm against his clothed dick. “C’mon, love. We’ve got all night. Right now, I wanna make you feel so good you forget his fucking name.”

Your thighs clench at his words; the possessiveness in his tone grips you. “Fuck, Matty,” you whine, sudden heat flooding your body and pooling at your core. “Off, off, now,” you whine, yanking off his jeans and boxers in one motion and wrapping your hand around his hardening cock. It’s almost a reversal of last time; in Matty’s room, now, his skin bare while you’re clothed. Slowly, you pump his cock again, relishing the way his hips twitch under your touch.

You kick off your own jeans and crawl back up the bed, leaning towards Matty as he roams his hands down to the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head. Deft fingers work at the clasp of your bra and pinch your nipple as you slip the fabric off your body. “So fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs, gazing intently at your bare tits.

Sitting up, Matty climbs on top of you, kissing you hard and tracing a finger over the outside of your panties. A shiver runs through you and you grind against his hand, the fabric of your underwear scraping deliciously over your clit. You slide down the pillows so the pair of you are horizontal, looking up and losing yourself for a second in Matty’s big, brown eyes, liquid pools of fathomless desire. He tugs your panties down your legs, rubbing slow circles into your clit and swallowing your responding moan with a kiss. “Shit, Matty, come on,” you whine, rolling your hips against him.

“We have all night, love. Don't you wanna take it slow?” he murmurs, speeding up his motions at your clit. Liquid pleasure drips down your spine, blooming hot in your veins. A whine falls from your lips as he slips a finger into you, your cunt clenching desperately around him as he sets a torturously slow rhythm.

You groan. He’s so devoted to dragging everything out, insisting on toying with every encounter; you’re aching for it already. “No,” you retort. “Shut up and fuck me.” Weak bursts of heat rattle through you, insufficient, ramping up your desire as you kiss Matty desperately.

“So impatient,” he tuts, brushing a strand of hair away from your face and dropping his head to kiss your neck. “How do you want it?” he murmurs against your skin. Your stomach clenches at his words, unused to the care he takes with you, his lips reverent on your skin, awaiting your cue.

“Fast,” you gasp, a breathy moan falling from your lips as he slides another finger into you, the stretch between your thighs burning deliciously. “Hard,” you add, reaching down and wrapping a hand around his cock. “Come on, Matty, wanna come on your cock so bad,” His dick twitches in your palm and his jaw goes slack, desire burning in his gaze.

Matty pulls his fingers out of you, drawing them into his mouth and sucking your arousal off his skin. “Open up, love,” he instructs, spitting in your mouth when you drop your jaw for him. You swallow obediently, the taste of you sliding down your throat deliciously. Climbing off you, he lines his cock up with your entrance, teasing. “You ready?”

Nodding wildly, you clench your cunt and roll your hips, chasing the pleasure he holds just out of your reach. “Fuck me, please,” you whine, tangling a hand in his hair and tugging harshly, relishing the soft whimper he lets out. Finally, Matty enters you, the stretch divine in your cunt. He gasps as you clench around him, coaxing him deeper. “Harder,” you beg, digging your nails into his back and matching his thrusts with your hips to force him deeper into you.

“Whatever you want, love,” he grins. “Gotta give it to you just the way you want it before your little boyfriend gets his pathetic hands on you again,” he promises, the flash of guilt at the reminder of your sin indetectable against the waves of sweet bliss rolling over you. He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you wildly. Your pulse thrums in your cunt, cries falling from your lips as he thrusts impossibly deep into you.

“Shh, not so loud, sweetheart,” Matty murmurs against your lips, sliding two fingers into your mouth to muffle your moans. Your head spins, drunk on him, liquid heat coiling in your veins and melting you in his hands. Euphoria pools in your belly, blood pumping faster and faster, your hips meeting slick and sweet. “That feel good?” You nod fervently, incoherent whines falling from your lips.

You writhe under him. “Matty,” you whine. “Matty, please, fuck–” you gasp, voice breaking on the last syllable as he strikes oh-so-perfectly inside you. “Oh, God,” you cry, digging your nails into his shoulders hard enough to puncture skin. His hand comes down to tease at your clit, callused fingers deliciously rough against your swollen nerves. “Matty, please, please, please,” you whine, hips jolting involuntarily to chase the sweet, sharp bursts of pleasure that ricochet through you.

“Are you close, love?” he asks, his pace stuttering as his control slips.

“Yeah, fuck,” you murmur between soft moans. Matty redoubles his efforts, pressure mounting between your legs, coiling tighter and tighter as you cling to him, lips meeting in a messy imitation of a kiss. He strikes your clit just right, and you scream, heat racing through your blood and sparks exploding behind your eyelids. Euphoria burns you from the inside out, your cunt clenching around him desperately. A pained whine escapes you as he pulls out of you, spilling across your stomach with a groan. Your chest heaves as you gasp for breath, coasting on your high. Matty collapses next to you, breathing hard, and grins over at you wickedly.

Matching his grin, you drag a finger through the mess on your belly and suck it off, swirling your tongue around your finger exaggeratedly. Matty snatches your hand away and kisses you deeply. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

“Yes,” you giggle against his mouth. “Is it working?” He nods almost imperceptibly, something intense shining in his eyes that you don’t quite want to understand. You cast your gaze anywhere else, and he clears his throat sheepishly. “I’m, uh, gonna go get cleaned up,” you say, wincing at the cliche as you pad into his bathroom.

Whatever lingering awkwardness you might’ve feared has dissipated by the time you return, cocking your head quizzically at his pose; propped up against the headboard, arms behind his head. “About that blowjob… What?” he complains as you burst into laughter. “No, I’m sorry,” he says, laughing. “I heard it as soon as I said it.” You climb back into bed next to him, resting your head on his bare shoulder.

Kissing at his neck, you taste the light sheen of sweat on his skin. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you tease, climbing over him and settling between his legs. “And that I’m generous.”

The sound of your phone clattering to the floor startles you awake. Blinking blearily, you comb a hand through your sleep-tangled hair. Twelve missed calls from your mum, three from your dad and… oh shit, seventeen from your boyfriend. “Matty,” you hiss, slapping his leg frantically from your position on the floor. “Matty!”

“Huh, what?” he murmurs groggily, stirring to peer down at you from the bed.

“I forgot Michael was coming up from London this morning!” you gasp, frantically hunting for your clothes, the enormity of the last few days suddenly in shocking clarity. Your phone buzzes at your feet as you wrestle with your bra, fingers shaking too much to close the clasps. The caller ID flashes his name, and you draw a trembling breath.

“Want some help?” Matty teases, and despite yourself, you do. You nod despairingly, his warm hands at your back a comfort even now. “It’ll be okay, love,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. His touch warms you through, your body melting instinctively against his. God. You are well and truly fucked.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Palestinians have historically cultivated the land, not just with olive trees, but also with figs, apricots, oranges, and dates. Yet, Zionist propaganda, though a concentrated effort to steal Palestinian land, has insisted on “making the desert bloom.” The desert has already been blooming and supporting its Indigenous population, as it has for thousands of years. Since the early twentieth century, Zionists have nevertheless co-opted the language of environmentalism and sustainability as a means of forcing the native Arab population off of the lands they covet. The Jewish National Fund (JNF), a self-described Zionist organization, has an explicit mission: to acquire land throughout Palestinian territories and plant trees—with “proud Jewish identity.” The JNF claims to have planted 240 million trees over 227,000 acres. This tree-planting crusade is detrimental to the land. Pine trees that constitute the colonist’s imaginary of a forest in Europe replace the native plant species and change the soil’s chemistry, such that agricultural crops cannot thrive. This further displaces Palestinians, as well as the nomadic Bedouin peoples, who rely on the land for grazing their cattle. Settlers want to extract from the “blooming desert.” In contrast, the Indigenous approach to land is one of mutual respect and nourishment: the land sustains life and culture, a culture that settler-colonialism wants to erase. To achieve this end, the Zionist occupation has used a variety of tactics to disrupt the Palestinian economy, including controlling water resources so that groves cannot be irrigated as needed, which is especially important now given the effects of the climate crisis. Additionally, the Zionists instituted a permit system that has prevented olive farmers from accessing their trees for all but a handful of days per year. This has made it difficult, if not impossible, to do necessary maintenance like pruning and weeding, greatly impacting the quality of the harvest. Most egregiously, the Zionists erected walls separating farmers from their groves, slicing up plots of land that have been in the same family for generations. Such measures have forced olive farmers to rely on olives of subpar quality. Because of the limited days that farmers are given to access their trees, they might be forced to pick the olives before peak ripeness, affecting the quality of the olive oil produced and therefore the prices that the oil will fetch. A 1994 New York Times article summarized the struggle succinctly: “The Palestinians planted tiny olive trees; the Israeli soldiers dug them up. The Palestinians lay down in the road to block a bulldozer; the Israelis carted them off to police vans.”

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

New Meat

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Reader

Warnings: mentions of weed, reader is definitely unphased by the whole ghost kids controlling animatronics things, i'm sorry i just had to, i've watched that fucking movie over six times now, it's a disease, i don't understand why i'm being pulled back into my fnaf days, more to come most likely, piereced!reader

Words: 1187

Summary: You train Mike in being a Fazbear Security Guard.

Susie

Mike didn't really know what to expect for this security job. Mr. Raglan said the owner was sentimental and that was why the place hadn't been demolished yet.

At least he would be paid. The first night he wouldn't even be alone either. There would be someone to train him on the night shift. A veteran Fazbear security guard that has been working there for a little more than a year. A record, Raglan exclaimed in reverence.

What kind of person would work at such a shitty job for that long? Must be as desperate as he was for employment. Beggars really couldn't be choosers.

Making sure Abby was set with Max, Mike made sure to show up at least fifteen minutes before his shift started. When he tries for the front door, there are chains that prevent him from opening it.

"Around the corner."

He jumps at the tired voice. You slump your shoulder against the corner of the building and watch him. "You'll want to enter from the backdoor." You offer him a wan smile. Underneath your heavy 'security' jacket was a metal band t-shirt. Piercings line the curve of both of your ears, studs and rings alike. A weary shadow is cast under your eyes.

You hold your hand out to him in introduction. "Nice to meet you Mike."

When he grabs your hand to shake he finds it shockingly cold.

Mike follows you as you give him the grand tour of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria. The main stage held three, tall animatronics. A smaller cove, you explained, housed the animatronic known as 'Foxy'. A spare closet room housed crumpled, metal forms in various stages of disassemble. More than anything in the restaurant that was the one room that really had Mike's skin crawling. Something about it didn't feel right.

Every step you take, Mike notices something bobbing along your leg. Initially he thought it was your flashlight but you held it in your hand. When you entered the lit security room, Mike finally realizes it's a large taser hanging from your utility belt.

You catch his eying and show him the taser. "I'll leave this with you for tonight."

Incredulously holding it in his hand, he feels it's heavy weight. "Is this really necessary?"

"You never know who you'll encounter here at night. Could be an aggressive tweeker or something. . . worse." Your voice trails off. "Keep it on you at all times. Trust me."

Wearily you rub at your eyes and collapse into one of the computer chairs in the security room while Mike takes the other. He leans back against the chair's weak support. You were scheduled to stay and help Mike the rest of the night shift. Then tomorrow night you'd finally be able to get some relatively good sleep. You've been awake for far too long. Feeling rather shitty, you grab for you bag of Red Vines to fill the dullness. There was little possible the Fazbear gang would act up tonight. They stayed quiet when it was someone's first night. Like they were trying to feel out the new security guard. You gave them a talk before Mike had shown up.

Really, it was Bonnie and Carl that you were worried about the most. They were particularly aggressive and wouldn't hesitate to take a chunk out of the new guy.

Eyes leisurely moving to check the cameras just to be on the safe side.

Vanessa told you that Mike wasn't allowed to know the truth. Her father instructed the both of you that much via phone call. Plus after having worked there for some time now, you knew better. William Afton wasn't someone you wanted to disobey.

But it ate away at you. The longer you were around him, the more guilty you felt for not screaming 'Run! Get out of here and don't come back!'

Many other night shift security guards have come and gone; either quitting or being killed by the animatronics. Only you have been able to survive past your fifth night.

You had an advantage though that the others didn't. One that made them more docile around you.

"Hey, if you want to leave early then go ahead." Mike says out of nowhere after some time basking in the silence. "I think I got it."

You shake your head. "I need the hours." His offer was tempting. They were shitty hours with even shittier pay but any little bit helped. Just enough so you could afford to go to college. Receive a degree and maybe get out of your little town.

That answer didn't seem to be the one he was looking for as he anxiously runs his tongue over his lower lip in contemplation.

Eyebrow arching, you tilt your head in puzzlement. He made it obvious he wanted you gone. You felt like you should take offense to that. Maybe you came off as too uncaring. Positive it wasn't your body odor. While your dietary needs were lacking you made an effort to be as hygienic as you could. When you work double shifts (which is often) you tend to sleep in your car. It worked out fairly well when you put down your back seat and cushion the bottom.

Nowadays Freddy Fazbear's felt more like a home than your actual apartment.

Mike just slumps in his chair.

"You'll be in for a long night if you don't at least bring something as entertainment."

"What do you do?" He asks after a moment.

You open up your backpack and show him the overstuffed contents, including a strong stench of marijuana.

Word searches. Crossword puzzles. An embroidery hoop with plastic bag of different colored threads. Two books. Mike could see the stitching of your backpack beginning to tear. He pulls out what he thought was a notebook but it was actually a Mad Libs. At that he glances up at you.

You shrug. You couldn't just tell him that the animatronics loved them. He wouldn't understand.

Placing your backpack back onto the floor, you go back to your licorice.

"You're allowed to smoke this here?" He gestures with his head to where you kept your weed supply kit.

"'Course not but you really think the boss stops here to check? I've never met the guy. Just spoken with him over the phone." You zip up your bag and push it under the desk.

Now Mike is staring suspiciously at you. "And you don't fall asleep?"

It makes you roll your eyes. "Relax newbie. Besides checking the cameras frequently, this job is a breeze. And believe it or not, when I'm high, I'm incredibly productive. I wouldn't recommend you taking drugs during your shift though. You're still new. At least get a hang of things before you start fucking off."

You couldn't help but add "Also- if any of them give you trouble, just tell them that you know me."

His brows furrow. "Them?"

He wouldn't believe you even if you told him everything. What sane person would?

Sighing, you reach into your jacket pocket for the playing cards you had. "You know how to play 'War'?"

[blueicequeen19]

Dirty Hot Pogue Pt. 3

Warnings: angst, protected sex, cheating

"What's your deal?" Kie's agitated voice draws JJ's attention back to his current surroundings, a bonfire with his friends. Only everyone has apparently retired for the night except Kie and he hadn't even noticed.

"Dude, what happened to your arm?" Kie leans over to get a closer inspection of the claw marks on his bicep but he withdraws, casting her a disapproving look.

"Who are you screwing now?" Kie huffs a laugh, taking a hit off her weed pen but JJ shakes his head, refusing to answer her. He'd fucked Y/N a second time. And a third. And a fourth. Now he was thinking about things like birth control and how to prevent her boyfriend from ever finding out. She'd show up almost every day at the same time and he'd have to cover her mouth to muffle her screams in the thin walls of the shed as she came. They were both addicts and he couldn't stop. He didn't want to. But the thought of sharing him made him borderline violent. He'd been avoiding the party scene for a few weeks now and his friends were noticing. JJ just couldn't stand the thought of seeing her being a girlfriend to someone else.

"JJ, come on. You can talk to me." Kie's voice is there again, pulling him from his thoughts. JJ looks over, taking in the concern on her face. She wouldn't get it. She hated Kooks. She'd tell him he was being stupid and should stop. Shit he didn't want to hear.

"My dad is back." JJ shrugs, snagging her pen and taking a hit as he sinks into the lawnchair. Kie sighs, relaxing into the chair. Nothing had to be said about his father. They all knew. They just didn't know it was a lie.

JJ groaned into your neck as he came, your legs wrapped around his waist from your spot on the workbench. Sweat dripped down his back and from his brow as he fought to catch his breath. He was never satisfied when it came to you. His cock was always hard and ready to go whenever you came around, even if he'd just came inside you. Your hands slid up his bare back and into his hair, tilting his head up to capture his lips but he pulled back, denying you.

"Don't." JJ rasps, slipping from inside you. You winced, anger marking your pretty face. JJ couldn't help but think you were even prettier when you were angry.

"Why won't you kiss me?" Y/N demands, sliding your panties back up your legs and crossing your arms as he discards the condom and zips his shorts. JJ ignores you, wiping his brow with his shirt and tosses it on the table.

"Same time tomorrow?" JJ raises his eyebrows at you, reaching to flip the light off when you roll your eyes, fighting back angry tears.

"JJ--."

"Don't," JJ growls, resisting the urge to go to you and hold you in his arms. "This is sex. We don't have to kiss."

"You had no problem kissing me before!"

"Yea when I thought I'd only have you once. When I thought I'd never get to kiss you again."

"And that's changed because you get to fuck me on a regular bases?"

"Yea because now I have to share you. I'll share your pussy but I don't want your kisses. Don't kiss me after kissing him."

"Because kissing is so much more intimate than fucking?"

JJ groans, dragging his hands down his face. You didn't get it. He couldn't ask you not to kiss your boyfriend so he resisted kissing you instead. There were no parts of you that were just his and he hated it. He hated having to be so cold and detached but it was the only way he could bare to let you walk away each time.

"For the record, I don't kiss him and I don't fuck him. We haven't been intimate in months. The whole relationship is for show." You try to shove past him but he grabs your arms, stopping your retreat as something blooms in his chest. Surely you were lying. Why was he getting hopeful?

This didn't change anything. If anything, it only pissed him off more over how involved in the Kook politics you are. His hands drop and you visibly pout, pleading with your eyes.

"JJ, why are you so mean to me? I thought we both wanted this. You approached me. You made me want things. You made me feel things. I was content with my life before you." You whisper softly, your hand resting against his bare chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart.

"I don't share." JJ bites out. "I tried not to want you. I tried to push you away because I knew I wouldn't be able to let you go but you pushed back. You made me do this."

"I made you!? I can't help that you can't detach yourself enough to have casual sex. Maybe you shouldn't have whispered dirty things in my ear at that party and drew me in with false promises." His eyes narrow on yours as he takes a step forward, your face scrunched up in a scowl.

"Please tell me what false promises you're referring to because I'm pretty sure I've made you cum enough times on my tongue just in the past week that I'm surprised you can even walk straight." You shudder, his voice low and dangerous. He was right but you liked pissing him off.

"Right back at you." You snarl, attempting to pull away but he doesn't let you. You only grow angrier when a cocky smirk reaches his lips.

"You do know how to do more than just talk shit with that mouth. I'll give you that." JJ presses you against the wall, his hands low on your hips. You find it hard to breathe with him looking at you like a four course meal. He was always ready to fuck after a fight. And you fought often.

"Go fuck yourself."

"I'd rather fuck you." JJ growls, planting a wet kiss against your neck that has you shivering. He kisses his way down your chest and down your visible cleavage before he kneels before you. He lifts up the hem of your dress and raises it up to your face.

"Bite down. You let go and I stop." You do what he says, your body buzzing and ready all over again as you bite down on the fabric. You feel his hot breath against your pussy, his tongue carefully probing your clit through panties as his hands caress your shaking thighs. You faintly hear something creak but your excitement for his mouth was too great to notice.

“What the actual fuck?” You both jump at the sound of a female voice. Your dress falls back down your body as JJ jumps to his feet defensively and moves in front of you.

“This is who you’re fucking? Are you for real?” You recognize her from his friend group. The mouthy Kook turned Pogue. Kiarra.

The disgust in her tone instantly pisses you off. But what stops you in your tracks is the way she looks at him. Like she’s actually feeling betrayed.

Like he’s not just a friend to her.

[lolo3hwriting]

The White Lily Greenhouse - How Would It Work?

Pure Vanilla Cookie has always been a favorite character to me because of his hobby of gardening. As someone who gardens as well as studies horticulture, it’s fun to see all of the gardens and plants he has in the story. The most notable example for me is the White Lily Greenhouse because it plays such an important role in Pure Vanilla’s character and story. He built it as a place to relax and to enjoy the white lilies he loves so much. But it made me wonder, how in the world would he manage it? Realistically it would take a lot of effort, and considering it's a private greenhouse within his castle, Pure Vanilla would most likely take care of it all alone.

Before I get into anything, I wanted to talk about the specific type of lilies that Pure Vanilla grows. The character White Lily Cookie is based on lilies in general, but most significantly the Madonna Lily. However, I couldn’t find much information about growing Madonna Lilies (Lilium candidum) in greenhouses specifically, so most of the information I have is from growing Easter Lilies (Lilum longiflorum) or lilies (Genus Lilum) in general in greenhouses. The growing requirements are mostly the same, but might have a few slight differences.

Specific Requirements for Growing Lilies and Greenhouses

(Diagram of a bulb, image taken from here)

So first, I wanted to explain briefly about the morphology of lilies and how that impacts their management. Most lilies grow from bulbs, which are specialized structures made up of a short fleshy stem enclosed by thick, fleshy leaves. At the bottom of a bulb is the base plate where the stem, leaves, and roots grow from. One way to propagate lilies is through bulblets (also called bulbils), small bulbs that grow from the base plate, which can be removed and planted on their own. However, the most common way is through bulb scales where the first (and sometimes second) outer portion of the leaf scales are removed and planted. But whatever the case, both the bulblets and bulbs scales need to go though some period of cold temperatures to break their dormancy. This means you can plant them in the fall and let them stay over the winter, or you could put them in a refrigerator to chill. Considering the Vanilla Kingdom is in a mountainous region and high up in the sky, I’m sure they can be put outside before transferring them to the greenhouse.

Heating and lighting are two important factors in making lilies grow well. Lilies need full sun, which is about 6 hours per day. Generally a south facing greenhouse will have more light exposure, otherwise you may need artificial lighting. Lilies will start growing when temperatures are warm enough, so greenhouses usually aim for 60 F, but they can also grow well up to 75 F. I'll discuss how heating and lighting might work for the white lily greenhouse.

Although lilies are perennials and bloom year after year if you maintain them, most ornamental gardens will plant new bulbs every year because old bulbs won’t produce as much or as big flowers as younger bulbs do. This would mean Pure Vanilla would have to dig up old bulbs and plant new ones every year, unless he has some type of special magic that will make them bloom as big and numerous consistently.

Weeding and pest management are always something to keep in mind with greenhouses, but if you don't let them become a problem then it's pretty easy to deal with. Proper sanitation like removing weeds before they produce seeds, removing plant debris and dead plants, and having clean growing media will all help prevent problems. I think Pure Vanilla is vigilant enough to do all of that.

Historical Greenhouses

(A classic greenhouse from England, image taken from here)

In the past, greenhouses were heated just by the sun or with additional heating like furnaces, hot water, or steam. This meant that temperature control was not very precise and had to be fiddled with in order for the greenhouse to be properly heated. If this was the case, I think there would have been some type of boiler specifically for the greenhouse situated at a higher elevation so that the hot water/steam could be carried by gravity into the greenhouse. Water for irrigation had to be brought in unless you had a nearby water pump. Carrying water in would have taken a lot of effort, not to mention that you would have to do watering by hand, which would have been tedious for one person. However, I doubt that Pure Vanilla would mind with his patient nature and enthusiasm for gardening.

The cost of glass and steel to build the greenhouse itself would have been expensive. But taking into account that Pure Vanilla was a king, he probably didn’t have much trouble with the cost of construction or equipment. 

The Vanilla Kingdom is based on Germanic countries, and those countries have a long history of using greenhouses. During the 16th and 17th centuries places like England, France, Italy, and the Netherlands had greenhouses to grow exotic plants that they collected. So the locale and inspiration for the kingdom lines up.

The Modern Approach

(A modern Dutch style greenhouse, image from here)

Considering the Vanilla Kingdom had the waffle bots and advanced technology, it would be reasonable that Pure Vanilla could have access to more modern greenhouse technology similar to what we have today. Things like automatic misting systems, electrical and gas powered heating, and artificial greenhouse lighting. Not to mention all the sensors and timers that can help automate things. However, I’ve seen greenhouses built pretty recently that still use hot water pipes to heat the greenhouse and manually watering their plants. Seeing that Pure Vanilla is more old fashioned and traditional, he could have also run his greenhouse using old school methods. 

Of course, all of this can be hand waved with magic but I like to think that the creation of spells is also considered special techniques that have to be learned and trained. I'm sure that Pure Vanilla or even White Lily Cookie could have developed some type of specialized magic to grow plants easier, similar to how in real life new technology is constantly being developed in order to more efficiently grow plants.

Sources:

https://wyoextension.org/publications/html/B1185R/

[mortiz888-blog]

Bermuda Grass vs Crabgrass: Tips to Identify, Kill & Prevent

Read More The Ultimate Guide to Caring for Your Lawn in SeptemberSoil TestingLeaves in Fall: Why do homeowners worry so much about picking up their leaves in Fall? #SaveYourGreenBreak The Cycle and Fix Your Ugly Lawn #SaveYourGreen When it comes to maintaining a weed free lush green lawn grass, it is important to know the differences between Bermuda grass and crabgrass because both these lawn…

[zomboys-blog]

Fic idea: college au, aged up characters!!!

wednesday and enid meet at the weathervane, wednesday sat in her usual booth while enid was admiring her from afar. Enid gasses herself up to go and talk to the goth, she ends up complimenting her and attempting to strike up conversation. They have a quick convo as wednesday had made it a point to be very obvious about looking enid up and down. Almost as if to intimidate the wolf, wednesdays eyes stop at enids chest, specifically the right side. There embroidered on her sweatshirt were the initials to the college wednesday attends.

“i see you attend nevermore as well.”

“oh yeah, wait you go there too?? that’s crazy! i’ve never seen you before!!”

enid is very obviously excited that the goth attends her school.

after a quick and short convo about classes and what they major in enid eventually says her goodbyes and hopes to see her around campus.

Thankfully enid does end up seeing wednesday around campus, everyday for about a month or so enid would make it her mission to talk to wednesday atleast once a day, which lead to them becoming “swell acquaintances” according to wednesday.

later on about a month and a week after meeting enid gets invited to a party that yoko and ajax are hosting together, obviously enid ends up going and she has a great time.

enids sitting next to ajax on the couch with a drink in her one hand and a “special brownie” in the other.

about an hour or so later enid could really start to feel the effects of the brownie, so when a short goth sat down next to her on the couch she could’ve swore she had imagined her.

“wednesday?”

“sinclair.”

“what are you doing here?”

“i’m simply here out of pity. my acquaintance bianca had invited me. She guilted me by admitting that her ex was going to be attending this soirée. Apparently not everyone is all for attending a “party” alone while their brooding ex snoop around them.”

“oh, okay.”

enid, not all there. Was very tired and wasn’t able to warn wednesday when ajax offered an unknowing wednesday a “special brownie.” within 30 minutes wednesday had begun feeling the effects since her tolerance was not high. This also meant that for someone of her size and low tolerance, that much weed intake was guaranteed to make you “trip out”. 

“enid, i fear that your acquaintance  has poisoned me, i have no other choice than to skin him and force you to watch.”

enid, obviously and rightfully freaked out explained that the brownie was just weed infused. wednesday admits to enid that she’s never had weed before, enid reassures her that she’d try her best to take care of wednesday if anything were to go wrong.

hours go by with enid and wednesday talking about nothing and everything all at once, they have a really nice conversation. Enids head is tilted back and she’s looking up at the ceiling when she feels a certain head lay upon her lap.

“apologies sinclair, i seem to have lost control over my own body.”

enid disregards the way her heart felt like it was pounding outside of her chest.

an hour goes by of them talking and enid admiring wednesday who hadn’t worn a glare on her face for atleast 20 minutes which is a record for the girl.

as both of them began to doze off on the couch yoko awoke both of them and offered them to stay in her room since it was the closest and yoko wouldn’t be using it anyway since she was staying in divinas room. wednesday obviously out of her mind had absolutely no rejections to this idea and followed behind enid as enid guided her to the room.

“don’t worry, i’ll sleep on the floor. I’m not a creeper.”

“nonsense, for whatever unfathomable reason i seem to have grown a disgusting sense of trust to you.”

enid knew wednesday would never admit to that when sober, nonetheless they got in bed and obviously enid did the lesbian prevention barrier in between them so wednesday wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

with that enid turned off the lamp that was next to them, leaned over, laid a quick and small kiss atop wednesdays forehead, said goodnight, turned over and immediately passed out. Wednesday however couldn’t sleep at all due to enids show of affection.

The next morning enid awoke to an empty bed and a throbbing headache. later on she attempted to reach out through bianca to wednesdays but it was no use, it seemed like wednesday was ghosting her and she hated it.

eventually she stumbles across wednesday at the weathervane and demands answers. wednesday end up lying to enid about why she hasn’t spoken to her since the night of the party.

spoiler alert wednesday ghosted her because she couldn’t handle the truth of how she felt about the werewolf

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

i love fics where wednesday gets high off her mind and enid helps her out so here’s my take on that. i have no clue if im gonna end up making this an actual fic but lmk if i should 😭

[queerism1969]

Things you should know before having SEX

There is absolutely nothing rude or accusatory about asking a new partner about their STD history

Use both a barrier method (male or female condom) AND a hormonal method for the best bet at preventing pregnancy

When you’re considering stopping using condoms with a partner, you can ask them if you can go together to get tested first

Don’t have sex with anyone who would hesitate to slow down or stop if you want to or who would be angry or upset with you because of it

Get tested regularly, every 1–3 months

You can go on PrEP if you feel you are truly at risk of getting HIV

Look at your partner and make sure they do not have cold sores, if they do, don’t kiss/do oral with them!

Always meet in public first

Have boundaries and don’t be afraid of kicking someone out/leaving

It’s easier and cheaper to change condoms than diapers.

If you're planning on having a lot of casual sex, you must accept that you will be exposed to STIs. 

There is no such thing as safe sex - just risk reduced.

Pinch the reservoir tip of a condom as you slide it down the penis to make sure there is enough space for the semen to collect 

Oral/vaginal/anal sex all have STD risks.

Do NOT use oil-based lubricants with a condom

Abstinence-only is a terrible idea, and statistics show it: STD rates and teen pregnancy rates are higher in areas with abstinence-only sex education programs.

Some people enjoy a little acting or role-playing during sex so it helps to have a pronounced safe word that nobody will say by accident.

Don't dominate on the first physical meeting.

Don't introduce new, undiscussed elements into a scene in the heat of the moment.

Dental dams for oral sex, surgical gloves with LOTS of lubes for fingering, trim your nails, and wash your hands.

Vagina penetration isn't going to be as easy, like they show in porn

it's essential to clean off the semen before putting on another condom. 

Buy plenty of condoms

Pee after sex as it is important to prevent UTI.

Throw out everything you see in porn, it's unrealistic and most of the positions are not possible or enjoyable as they look on camera.

Have plenty of foreplay before penetration 

When you get on the pill, ask your doc how long that pill takes to be effective.

Cum will drip out of you, and you will look silly waddling to the bathroom to go pee and clean up

If you take any kind of antibiotics, it will render your birth control pills ineffective for the rest of that month. 

Never be ashamed to have cleanup supplies near your bed.

Doing kegel squeezes in the restroom really helps push most if not all the cum out.

Two people with a vulva can give each other STIs.

Let someone know where you are and when you'd be back. 

Your hookup doesn't have to be for penetrative sex

Don't drink anything you're handed that you don't see poured and doesn't leave your sight. 

Oral sex is very risky for things like gonorrhea, chlamydia, and syphilis (especially syphilis and pharyngeal gonorrhea).

Asking for Snapchat always does a good job of weeding out the fakes.

Always bring your own condoms and lube

Always let the person know that you’ll only have sex with condoms before meeting up

Obtain pepper spray just in case you’re put in a dangerous situation.

Clean your toys appropriately, and make sure it's body-safe material (if it starts to smell even after cleanings, throw it away). 

Be sure to use the correct kind of lube 

For any kind of sex, there generally shouldn't be pain. If there's pain, something is probably wrong. 

If you brush your teeth before doing oral, wait till the minty flavor is gone before going down on them

Your pubic hair is normal and healthy. Trimming is fine, shaving I recommend a lot less.

Sex is a marathon, not a sprint

Not liking sex is okay.

HIV is no longer a death sentence. With proper treatment, your viral load can be so low that transition is impossible. You'll have to manage it for the rest of your life, and your partners would have to take PREP and HIV prevention drugs.

If you decide to practice kink, be aware that consent becomes much more explicit and requires a lot of prep to properly establish. Without consent, it's just abuse.

[mollysunder]

Shimmer, Plants, and Firelights: Is the Firelights' Tree HQ being Sustained with Shimmer?

One of the most impressive things about Ekko's community, the Firelights, is that they were able to build a real home for one other another against the brutal struggle to survive that the Undercity has been caught in for centuries. Arcane best shows the Firelights' success in community in their ability to build and manage a green community. In the Undercity, a place of Iron and Glass, where plants and clean air are such luxuries that they count as status symbols, the Firelights are practically bathed in it in their Treehouse HQ. But then when I rewatched the series, I remembered Ekko said they FOUND this tree. The Firelights didn't grow it from seed to massive old growth themselves (especially if the timeskip was just 6-7 yrs at most), they certainly cultivated it in a way that allowed the tree to support itself and them too. After finishing Arcane it was so easy to firmly associate successful plant cultivation and the hope it brings for the Undercity with the Firelights, to where I had forgotten that the plants do grow in the Undercity.

The first time we see plant life in the Undercity is at the Crab Palace, better known as the Cannery. Through the cracks in the ground are leafy ferns (I think they're ferns) and generally very healthy looking weeds. At first I'd assumed maybe this area was in a slightly less polluted area in the Undercity, but it's literally by the place Silco was drowned. The place where the river is so toxic it eats muscle tissue. And yet, in the light of day plants grow. In fact, even underwater vegetation seems to be able to grow too. And everytime we see an instance of vegetation growing and surviving in the Undercity, there is always a source of Shimmer and/or Shimmer production nearby.

In the Cannery we can see the literal veins of Shimmer (Void Veins?), act as a medium that allows plant growth.

In the time it took for the sun to set on 2nd episode we can see that even more fern saplings are growing on and around the Void Veins.

In Singed's cave where he is cultivating Rio, the mutation related to Shimmer's production the cave is filled with bioluminescent plant life. I don't know if this a normal plant in League of Legends, but in the real world there are no naturally occurring plants that actively glow in the dark. Not only do they exist in a cave system that's fed with water visibly polluted with visible chemical runoff they manage to grow in decent looking clusters with limited light.

Later in the season, Viktor's experiments with the hexcore show that the Void is capable of stimulating the growth organic life and Shimmer may be the key to maintaining it.

By the end of the season, Shimmer production is shown in a very controlled environment like the factory where plant life would be weeded out to avoid accidents and prevent damage to machinery. When the show reaches the Firelights' HQ, audience members like myself already forgot Shimmer's association with plant life. But looking back, it seems few requirements are needed for Shimmer to make plants grow. All the plants probably needed was light, moisture, and a healthy supply of Shimmer.

It makes sense that the Firelights' treehouse was able to grow so large and grand in a place like the Undercity with the help of Shimmer. Shimmer is a literal magic wonder drug (a super steriod) for humans, and magic doesn't need to understand basics of biochemistry, it's the Void. The real question is where is the source that's feeding the tree? The easiest answer could be that Silco dumps subpar quality Shimmer around the area, maybe the batches aren't strong enough but inadvertently make good fertilizer. The more worrying answer is that the Void Veins over the years have dug deeper into the Undercity than anyone, except maybe Singed thought was possible.

No matter the answer, if it's true the tree was only able to survive before the Firelights reached it would be devastatingly ironic for Ekko and his group. Shimmer, the drug that elevated their enemy and upended their lives also made their home possible. It could be an opportunity to look once again at the nuances of Shimmer's applications once more, especially as previously the Firelights and now Piltover are hellbent on destroying it. But it also makes their home an even bigger target.

Somewhere there is a reserve of Shimmer sustaining the Firelights' tree in a time where production in its industry has been effectively shut down. They are possibly living on an extremely flammable gold mine. The gold mine may or may not be closely psychically conected to other Void-connected transmutated people like Jinx and Viktor. It also doesn't help that Piltover's quick to storm in first and ask questions later in high tension situations.

[mountrainiernps]

It's National Invasive Species Awareness week! Invasive species can interfere with ecosystems by changing natural processes such as fire severity, water availability, and flooding patterns. They also threaten the survival of native plants and wildlife, and can even endanger human health. Here at Mount Rainier National Park we have an Ecological Restoration Crew dedicated to the prevention and removal of invasive plant species in the park. 

NPS employees and Mount Rainier National Park Associate volunteers work together each summer to remove Canada thistle (Cirsium arvense) in the Longmire Meadow. This species has extensive underground root networks which make control and removal difficult. With the help of volunteers we're able to make a huge dent in the population and prevent them from spreading to nearby areas. NPS/K. Popek Photos, 7/26/22.

Controlling the spread of invasive plants helps protect our beautiful and unique native wildflowers such as these scarlet paintbrush (Castilleja miniata) and Cascade penstemon (Penstemon serrulatus). NPS/A. Borges Photo, 7/21/22.

Controlling invasive plant species can be tough work! They grow on steep slopes, roadsides, cliff faces, and within river channels making access very challenging at times. The Ecological Restoration Crew works hard to reach these difficult to reach places. NPS/K. Popek Photo, 7/21/22.

How can you help? Make sure to clean your hiking and camping gear before you head outdoors to stop invasive plants from hitching a ride to a new location. Other actions you can take are planting non-invasive plants in your home garden, familiarizing yourself with invasive species in your area, and using weed-free certified feed for your animals.

While still very beautiful, invasive species such as foxglove (Digitalis purpurea) can cause harm by outcompeting native species. Foxglove are also toxic to both wildlife and humans. NPS/K. Bacher Photo, 7/16/22.

Thanks for helping us prevent the spread of invasive species!

~kp/kl