#especially since so many of the cats are described with white markings‚ which should have been bred out a long time ago

[worldblight]

I wish Erin Hunter would hire me not because I particularly care about Warrior Cats anymore but because I know a lot about cat behavior and it makes me really really irritated seeing people draw cat body language so incorrectly

[folkloreguk]

Moving Antics (M)

A/N: This was requested a while ago and I hope you will enjoy it! I always welcome feedback of any kind! Have a good day x

genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, overstimulation (a tiny bit), dom!bias, very lowkey roleplaying??, reader wears a maid outfit (not in a degrading way)

words: ~ 5.4 k

tag list: @mochi-ficz (let me know if you wanna be tagged when I post new fics!)

People had told you over and over. Moving is a stressful, exhausting process. It would take a while for you to settle in. Until everything had found its perfect place, weeks could pass. At least that’s what everybody said. What they all failed to understand, though, was that being in love could make the most tiring experience fun. Was it stressful? Sometimes. Exhausting? Why don’t you ask yourself that, when you fell into bed like a walking corpse at night? But all it took was a glimpse at your boyfriend as he carried inside the box that said ‘anniversary gifts’ and it was all worth it. You were confident in one thing at least. In the settling in department you were both ranking foremost.

You had lived in the apartment for only a week, and you couldn’t have been more all-over-each-other. Somehow there seemed to be an unspoken challenge you had both taken on. Maybe you two could set a record for most surfaces in a flat someone could have sex on. Or perhaps you should have started marking the rooms and spaces you hadn’t been able to add to your list yet. There wouldn’t have been many left. At the moment, there was only one downside to being so head-over-heels in love. A lot of the boxes in the apartment had been left unattended, as if you only waited long enough, the things would start flying out of the cartons and miraculously sort themselves out while you could stay there, in bed with your lover between your legs.

But this wasn’t Hogwarts and you weren’t some magician. And so one rainy Saturday noon you decided it would be thatday. The day you finally put away all the things that were still in the boxes. Not that the day had been successful so far. It was 12 pm and you were in bed. The shower was running in the bathroom next door, and you wondered how you would convince your boyfriend and yourself that getting things done would be a worthwhile pastime. Telling yourself you would come up with a tactic with your eyes closed, you tricked yourself into daydreaming for a little while longer, cuddled in the blankets that still smelled like him.

When you heard footsteps approach, your mind snapped back to reality. He strut through the door like a nude model, searching for some clothes to wear. His smirk when he saw you eye him was prominent and made your stomach flip. It took every last will of yours to not ask him to come back into bed with you, forget all your earlier plans and live like you were the last people on earth.

“Do you want breakfast?” he asked, finishing his outfit by pulling a shirt over his head. “I’ll make you some.”

You hummed, starry-eyed at his perfection. “Thank you,” you said. Quickly, he kissed your forehead and then walked off, presumably in the direction of the kitchen. Twenty minutes later, at the kitchen table, you finally brought up your wonderful idea.

“I think we really should unpack some more stuff today,” you said, “Don’t you think?”

“You’re right,” he said, “We’ve really been procrastinating.”

“You can say that again,” you laughed.

“Although I wouldn’t describe our scientific research of the last few days as completely pointless.”

“Our what?” you asked. You were getting up to put away the plates of your late breakfast.

“Us testing which room of the house is the most fun to have sex in,” he stated, matter of fact. “I vote for the bathroom.”

“You just love the mirrors,” you grinned, and he mirrored it.

“I do,” he said. His arms snuck around your waist from behind. “Almost as much as I love you.”

“I love you too, babe,” you said, “You know, there’s one room we haven’t tried yet.”

“The office,” he said. You turned your head and you kissed him deeply. In agreement you hummed, your arms wrapping around him. He pulled you closer, hands ghosting over the back of your thighs and up to your hips. You felt like jumping onto the counter and having him there, again, just like you had done it two days ago. But then you remembered you had other projects for the day. If you gave in to him now, you’d end up back in bed for the rest of the day, probably. Guilt was already setting in at the mere thought.

“Wait,” you pulled away and said, “We have things to get done.”

His nod was dilatory but then he seemed to recall his own determination from around two minutes ago. You wished you could have motivated him otherwise, but you were already struggling to spur on yourself to be productive. Then, you suddenly remembered something. Your eyes must have widened in surprise because he furrowed his brows at you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Stay here,” you announced, “I’ll make sure we get through with this today.”

And you were off to your bedroom. You pulled the box out from the far back of your closet. Memories flashed your mind, of when you and your boyfriend had been watching a show together. One of the characters had been wearing a provocative maid outfit, and you still thought about the way he had grinned at it, or how he had said he found it cute, which you believed translated to sexy, but he had been a little shy back then.

Long story short you bought one. And what better occasion to put it to use than now? You went all out, stockings and heels as well as your attempt at fixing your hair quickly, which you knew didn’t really matter, since you would want it out of the way if you were really going to be emptying boxes. You strut down the hall, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The black and white costume just about covered your ass, and on your chest was a cutout in the shape of a cat’s head. The ruffles of the material bounced as you walked, excited to see your boyfriend’s reaction.

“Close your eyes!” you shouted. “No cheating!”

“I never cheat,” he said. You rolled your eyes, remembering his video game antics from the past.

“Before you say anything…this is supposed to be a motivation for us to empty the boxes. If we do that, we can have our reward,” you said.

“What reward?” he asked, eyes still shut.

“Open your eyes and you’ll know,” you said. Oh, how dearly you whished you could have captured his face on camera.

“Babe…,” he said. Then his mouth just stayed agape, as he ogled at you shamelessly. Just because he could. Because he was just thatlucky to have you.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“Yes. Of course I do,” he said. His tone was emotionless because he was way too busy sorting out his own thoughts in his head. “But do you really think this is a good idea? How am I supposed to focus on anything but you?”

“We’ll figure it out,” you said. “Don’t you want to feel accomplished at the end of it all? If we don’t start working now, we’ll just end up feeling guilty. Again. Come on, let’s do this.”

“Alright,” he said. “Let me have one kiss.”

You laughed and granted him that one wish. His lips lingered on yours for a while. You knew he didn’t want to pull away. Neither did you. But at last, he had enough control to remove himself from you. It was the office that still needed the most work to be done. Cardboard boxes were piled on top of each other, labelled with some sort of theme or room of belonging on the outside. When you looked his way, he was only eyeing your legs. But then you grabbed the closest box to you and handed it to your boyfriend, and he snapped out of his trance.

Believe it or not, there were up- and downsides to the maid costume in this situation. The pros included feeling unnecessarily sexy whilst doing an unbelievably humane task, not getting too warm since you were already wearing little clothing and having your boyfriend virtually drooling over your appearance. The downsides were mostly reduced to one word: heels. Climbing a ladder and balancing three boxes on top of each other in your arms was an arduous task to begin with. Now add the possibility of twisting your ankle on the top step of a ladder and crashing to the floor, probably breaking your back or worse. You really couldn’t endanger the prospect of the fun you were planning on having later by taking that risk.

That’s why you chose to abandon the heels somewhere on the floor about half an hour into the process. And you came to the conclusion that finally getting over and done with what you had been procrastinating for the last week wasn’t all that bad. You were a whirlwind, running from room to room to make sure everything had its place. At some point he had turned some music on, and it was making everything even better. After all this time, you finally had your own place to decorate however you desired. As you admired how nicely things were coming together, you hummed to yourself quietly.

You weren’t sure whether he was having as much fun as you were. Especially not when you walked past him in the doorframe, carrying four pillows. Your ass – maybe not all that accidentally – brushed against his front as you entered the room. Innocence and feigned ignorance were on your face but you noticed exactly the way his eyes dwelled on you for a little longer until he got back to work.

But everything you could do he could do just as well. Fifteen minutes later, you were occupied with stacking books onto a shelf. Wanting them to stand in a very specific order turned out to be more time-consuming than you had anticipated. You heard his steps behind you, assuming he was going to walk past you. Suddenly his lips brushed against your exposed neck.

“Remember this song?” he asked. You hadn’t been focused on the music for a while now, but of course you remembered. “Remember when I fucked you to the beat of this? Because I do.”

“Babe,” you said. There was a little part in your brain that had the glorious idea of him having you right there, against the bookshelf. You wouldn’t even need to remove your clothes. With him, it took nothing but a few magic words and you felt like giving him all of you. No. It’s not time for that yet. Your rationality vanquished that little avid thought and pushed it away, back into your unconscious where it had come from. It wasn’t gone yet, only not so urgent anymore.

“You’re right,” he said. “We’ll save that for later. Just wanted to remind you of how much of a good time we can have.”

You only shook your head and grinned as he walked off, pretending to be blissfully unbothered. What goes around, comes around, after all. And you deserved that for pushing up against him earlier. It took a minute and you got back to sorting your book titles. Time passed surprisingly fast when you were being productive. Box after box emptied itself, almost as if your wish for magic powers had become reality. But it was just two people, who were so excited about their reward that they forgot to even take a proper break in between the chaos. And soon you were down to the last cardboard box. It was full of decorations you didn’t need for the current season.

Just a few more climbs up and down the ladder to the very top of the closet and you were done. He stood next to the ladder, handing you the things so you didn’t have to go all the way down each time.

“Last one,” he said, giving you a box with holiday lights. Successfully, you placed it in its new spot. When you finally made eye contact with him, he was already staring at you like you were the only thing in the room worth looking at. To be fair, from where he stood, there wasn’t much left up to his imagination. With your stockings on display, his eyes could probably go all the way up to your garter belt.

“Is this angle too revealing?” you asked.

“Absolutely,” he said, making you laugh. Smirking, he took your hand as you stepped off the ladder. You stumbled into his body as you grinned at each other. You both had the same thing on your mind, without a doubt. It was like a little inside joke you had made up just now, making you flirt through looks and small touches. His hand rubbed the small of your back as he bent to your ear.

“My pretty maid, haven’t you worked enough for the day?” he asked. “All that teasing you did today must have been soexhausting.”

You nodded overly seriously, as if riling up your horny boyfriend was physically tiring work. “I hope I did a good job. Did I?”

“No one else could have done it better,” he said. “Now let me treat you, baby.”

You hummed with your mouth already too close to his to say anything. Then your lips finally crashed onto his. It was a little ridiculous how much you missed his touch after only hours of being without it. People had told you you’d get tired of being with each other all the time. But it had been years and you still wished you could have cuffed his wrist to yours because you loved him just that much.

Your tongues fought playfully as you pushed him against the closet front. Small noises came from both of your mouths, quietly agreeing that this was what you had been waiting for – more or less patiently. Your hands became busy with the buttons of his flannel. When you came across his bare skin underneath instead of a shirt, you smiled into the kiss. Every layer less to remove meant you were one step closer to what you wanted.

“We’ve never done it in here,” you muttered against his hungry lips. “That table looks nice, doesn’t it?”

He grinned. Your hands had already messed up his hair, but nothing came close to his dark eyes in moments like these. His look never failed to make your heart skip a beat while you wondered how you had ended up with the most handsome guy in the world.

“Will you think of us, if you ever sit there and work in the future?” he asked, leading you over to the office table. He dropped his flannel on the ground on the way.

“I always think about us,” you said. “But you can make sure this one stays especially prominent in my memory.”

“There’s nothing I’d rather do,” he said, and kissed you again. Your ass was backed against the edge of the table and one of his legs pushed between your thighs. It made you whimper quietly in anticipation. He touched the little part on your thighs that was bare, playing with your garters. With your eyes closed, his tongue on yours and his hands being so close but so far from where you needed him, your head spun with dizziness. He was like a drug, like alcohol dripping straight from his lips and the more you kissed him, the less control you had over yourself. His attention gave you loose lips and the impulse to be risky, all whilst feeling so high up in the clouds you weren’t sure you’d ever find your way back down. You hissed when he pressed his fingers against your underwear.

“You’ll keep the dress on,” he said. “Will you?”

“Of course,” you obliged. “If that’s what you want.”

“Good girl,” he said, and he pulled aside your panties to slide his finger over the slickness that had formed between your thighs. As if on command, your hips moved closer to his hand as you whimpered at the too gentle friction. All afternoon you had been thinking of his hands on you. When you had watched him peel away the tape from the boxes, when he was taking your hand to help you down from the ladder and when he had run his fingers through his hair absentmindedly – all you could think about was how much you wanted those hands to grab your hips and for him to have his way with you.

“Take these off,” he ordered. His stern but gentle voice turned your insides into mush. It made you behave almost like a robot, no ifs ands or buts. When you usually liked to tease him, you knew not to test your limits when he spoke in this tone. Your underwear dropped to the floor and you kicked it a few meters away. Again, his hands ghosted under your dress and found your center. You felt like your knees would buckle from the way he rubbed small circles on your clit. Moaning quietly, you wrapped your arms around his neck for support, leaning your forehead against his chest for a moment. You let out small huffs and whimpers against his skin and nuzzled especially close to him when he touched that one special spot for a few seconds.

“Look at me.” He watched intently as your eyelids fluttered like your eyes were going to roll to the back of your head. You tried your best.

“Put your hands on the table by your sides,” he said. You hummed in disapproval but didn’t dare say so. After all, he could have also told you to put them on your back. And holding on to a wooden edge was still better than not holding on to anything, when you felt like a child standing on its feet for the first time. When he hooked his free hand under your thigh, lifting up your leg a little, your grip on the table tightened. You swore under your breath when he plunged two of his fingers into you. He curled them, pushing hard against your sweet spot and you curled your back in response.

All day you had gone without any sort of attention, when your head had been so full of things you knew you could do with him. The most release you had gotten – which was basically no release at all – was from pushing your legs together tightly when the dirty thoughts had become too much for your brain to handle. You knew it was your own fault for setting yourself up with this challenge. But now with your chest heaving and your head feeling like a tsunami of emotions was raging inside of it, you didn’t regret it as much as you thought you would two hours ago. Maybe you should play this waiting game more often, instead of jumping onto each other any chance you got.

“You look so hot like this,” he said. At the sound of his voice your eyes opened. Those eyes. While they usually held loyalty and playfulness, they now only spoke of authority. He used his thumb to rub your clit whilst his fingers were still inside of you, making you feel like floating. You were his favorite sight, by far. Above all times he watched you, from waking up in the morning to falling asleep in his arms at night, right now was the most mesmerizing. Your parted lips were the entrance to heaven and the glow in your teary, desperate eyes was putting the evening sun to shame.

“I’m so close,” you moaned. Your chest was alternating between short puffs and not breathing at all. Maybe your brain was too focused on the bliss you were chasing to care about breathing for now. You couldn’t blame yourself.

“Don’t make a mess, baby,” he said.

“No, I won’t,” you said. “Can I touch you when I come, please?”

You gave him your most entreating eyes, knowing that even though he liked telling you what to do in the bedroom, not even the strictest boyfriend was immune to your puppy eyes. You suspected that if he had declined, you might have held on to him anyways. Too overpowering was the clamor inside your head that was telling you to be close to him.

“Only when you’re coming,” he said. “Not a second earlier.”

You nodded obediently as your eyes shut again. Good thing you were mere moments away from just that. His fingers moved quickly, now that he knew how close you were to your high. It robbed your breath all at once. And it did the job, after a short while. You whined and arched your back, your hands flinging around his shoulders. Your little noises came out muffled against his skin as you closed your legs around his hand. He barely moved his fingers anymore, but kept the pressure on your most sensitive spots, making sure you could relish in every last second of your orgasm. Only after a while your grip on him loosened, and you realized how your nails had been digging into his skin.

“Sorry,” you said, rubbing over the moon-shaped marks on his shoulder. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, baby,” he said. When he removed his hand, you shuddered one last time, but missed his touch already. His magic was always working on you. Even when he had just made you come, the mere sight of the bulge in his pants, ready to spring free, made you want to pull him right into your body again.

“You came so fast today,” he said. Softly, he kissed you, but you noticed the hint of hunger that he must had been feeling as you were coming down from your high.

“That’s what you do to me,” you admitted. “Do you think you’re the only one who felt tortured all day long? It was driving me crazy, too.”

“You seemed to have a lot of fun, messing with my head,” he said, smirking.

“You’ll find that it was worth it, after this,” you said. He raised his eyebrows in question. You were already stepping forward, dropping to your knees in front of him. Like a child on Christmas morning, his eyes lit up at the sight of you.

“Aren’t you the prettiest maid?” he asked, the question obviously rhetorical. To him, you were the prettiest person in the whole universe. You tugged on his pants and pulled them down, along with his underwear. Your mouth watered at the sight of his member, hard and red from all the waiting he’d had to endure. The way he looked at you from above made you feel small, but he stroked your hair out of your face gently and you knew this was exactly where you wanted to be right now, and any other day.

“Hands behind your back,” he said. You smiled and did as he said, holding your right wrist with your left hand on your back. He caught on to your reaction right away.

“You don’t even mind, right?” he said. You were already sitting straight, mouth open, your tongue protruding slightly. “You like it when I make it more difficult for you, don’t you?”

You only nodded and hummed a small yes, then he placed the tip of his dick on your tongue. At first, you only closed your mouth around it, not taking more of him. Your tongue licked over the swollen tip almost shyly. He groaned as he watched you test the waters. After all, he was the one who could control what you did to him. For now, however, he seemed to leave you your freedom to do what you felt like. You pressed your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, licking over the tip ever so slowly. Then, you sunk your mouth further onto his length, taking as much as you could. It was so quiet you only noticed his uneven breathing as he eyed you from above.

“Shit, you’re so good for me,” he said. “Now stop with the teasing, will you? You know what happens if you don’t.”

You knew exactly. And so you shifted from your slow movements to quicker ones. You made sure to keep your tongue on him, especially when you moved your head away, swirling it around the tip now and then. His moans were music to your ears and only motivated you further. You had always loved his voice, when you sang to the song on the car radio or hummed his latest favorite song under the shower. But nothing compared to the way his voice sounded when you sucked him off. He seemed to be the most unrestrained then, not caring who heard him because he was way to obsessed with you sitting by his feet. The way he looked at you then made your stomach turn in pleasure. He didn’t even need to say anything or touch you. His overseeing eyes alone made you want him more than anything else.

His fingers in your hair curled, pushing your head further down on him. You focused on not gagging, your eyes closing. Tears brimmed behind your eyelids, but you were determined not to let them fall. Instead, you opened your lips a little wider and stuck your tongue out to make it easier for him to use your mouth however he desired.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, sighing in relief. You were awaiting treatment a lot rougher than the one he gave you, though. He thrusted into your mouth rather slowly, giving you enough of a break to remember to breathe. When you looked up at him with your sweetest eyes possible, his expression was a mix of strain and pleasure. You suspected he was trying not to overdo it just yet.

“Baby…can I fuck you or is that too much for you?” he asked. You perked up at his request. When you started humming around his length, he pulled away to let you speak.

“Please,” you said. “Fuck me. On the table.”

“Alright, my baby’s making the rules now, is she?” he said. “Come here.”

“I thought that’s where you wanted me to remember you, wasn’t it?” you asked, getting up.

“You’re right,” he said. You sat down on the edge of the office table with your legs parted for him to stand between them. Just once he kissed you. You wanted him to hurry, so you linked your heels behind his back, pulling him closer.

“Take me like a good girl.” He ran his cock over your slick folds, and he groaned when he felt your warmth on him. In response you nodded willingly, unable to wait a second more for him. Luckily, he didn’t plan on dragging out the anticipation any longer. With ease he slid into you, finding a familiar rhythm right away. As if you hadn’t just come ten minutes ago, you whimpered pathetically at the satisfaction. You leaned your weight onto your hands behind you, watching his cock enter you over and over. There was no limit to how many times you could have him inside of you. Every time it felt the same. Like he was completing you, all whilst simultaneously ruining you. His thrusts were sharp and as you raised your legs and changed the angle slightly, your eyes rolled back for a moment.

“Harder,” you asked, even though you were already overwhelmed.

“You want more?” he asked. You hummed a yes and nodded quickly. His grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer to the edge of the table. He didn’t disappoint. He never did. Swiftly, he pushed your legs further open and pounded into you, making your body shake every time his hips slapped against yours. It drove you borderline mad. A part of your brain urged you to praise him, to let him know what he was doing to you. But then, those unspoken words between you were inconsequential. You didn’t need to tell him how good he was. He could read it in every part of your body. He saw it in the arch of your back, in your curled toes and in your lip that was captured between your teeth. He heard it in the way you moaned and said his name like he was your savior.

Plus, you would tell him all about it afterward. But that wasn’t what your mind was focused on momentarily. It was the way he hit your sweet spot every time and you could barely breathe normally amidst your whimpers. You hadn’t even introduced yourself to all your neighbors yet, but they most certainly had taken notice of your arrival in the new apartment.

“Can you use your hands for me?” he asked. “Show me touching yourself, baby.”

His words and the look of dominance in his eyes was all it took, and without second thought your hands went to your center. You sucked in a breath at the added pleasure. It was almost too much at first, but then you let it all in. Like a wave was crashing over you, your eyes closed, and you hummed from the intensity.

“That’s it. Make yourself come again,” he said. “You can do it again.”

“Yes,” you said, almost breathed with the weakest voice. Your body had other things to focus on at that moment, letting your vocal chords do whatever they felt like. You clenched your walls around him and the knot in your stomach tightened with every little circle you drew on your clit. His usually tender eyes were everything but that as he watched you revel in the pleasure.

“So fucking hot,” he groaned. You tried hard to uphold eye-contact through fluttering eyelids and furrowed brows. “Good girl, keep going. Tell me when you’re coming.”

You hummed a yes as one of his hands cupped the side of your neck, the other remaining on your hips so he could push your body against his own with every thrust. After all this time of being with him you knew what it meant when his moans became higher pitched and he seemed to not realize his mean grip on your skin – not that you minded. You loved seeing the marks he left on you, especially when you had nowhere to be the next days. It always made him hungry, when he saw the dark spots on your skin, like a fading memory of what you had done.

A curse fell from his perfect lips and his thrusts turned sloppy as he came inside of you. His face, all twisted in bliss and from exhaustion, was all you needed.

“Stay inside of me. Just for a little while, please,” you plead, fingers on your clit rubbing at the quickest speed you could muster. “I’ll come if you stay.”

“I’m right here,” he said, slowing his actions until he was just filling you up, but now moving anymore. “It’s okay. Come for me.”

Just having him there, stretching out your walls and making you feel so close to him was all you really needed. And his words of affirmation sent you over the edge in no time. It was a toe-curling, mind-bending surge that overcame you at your release. Stars danced delightfully behind your closed eyelids while you tried to process all of it. He gripped your hand that was touching your clit and pressed it down, urging you to go on for a little while longer. You whined in sensitivity, feeling like your legs would give in, even though you were already sitting down. For just another while, he dragged out your orgasm as you struggled to control your overwhelmed senses. He distracted you by bending forward and letting his lips graze yours.

“You did so good,” he said. “My pretty maid.”

You whimpered and then sighed when he finally lifted your hand away from between your legs. Only then you could scrape together some words.

“We both did good today,” you grinned. “And I mean not only the last half hour.”

“Agreed,” he said. “Tomorrow we could tackle those last boxes in the kitchen. What do you think?”

“Can the maid outfit make another appearance?” you asked.

“I was hoping it might,” he said, kissing you softly. Your tired limbs and mind welcomed his gentleness as your hands went to his hair. You could already guess how the next day would go, then. But truth be told, you didn’t mind it one bit.

[dansnaturepictures]

31/07/2021-Brilliant day of butterflies, birds, flowers and more at Durlston: Part 1 of 2

We did another of our planned July further afield trips today, a second visit to Durlston this year after the usual April seabird and spring flower dominated one to try and see a Lulworth Skipper. On the way here it was great to take in many lovely sights such as lots of hemp agronomy, some fuchsia, the epic Corfe Castle which I took the first picture in this photoset of and a happy feeling Swanage nearby with many holidaymakers around. It was interesting to see that the distinct patches of in flower gorse on a hill I noticed driving in last time were dark green now.

At Durlston it did feel so nice coming twice in a year. In 2019 we had information from a kind person we met at Bentley Wood in the June that Lulworth Skippers could be seen here so we did the second visit after seeing hundreds of Wall Browns alongside birds and flowers in the April and I was so thrilled by how many Lulworth Skippers we saw that July a key moment in what is still probably my greatest year of butterflies if I had to chose seeing more species that year than in any other that I thought this should become an annual July jaunt a good time to see the Lulworth Skippers like Knepp is for Purple Emperors and other butterflies and Durlston would become a twice a year thing. But last year with us locked down in April we luckily managed to combine the summer and spring visit in our June week off of day trips once restrictions eased with the butterflies all coming out earlier last year.

Straight away today we walked along in the glorious meadows full of varied and rich flower life and beautiful grass. We saw some fantastic flowers walking through here including centaury which I learnt a few weeks ago at Lymington another coastal area, probably cat’s-ear which I took the fourth picture in this photoset of, corky-fruited water-dropwort which I took the eighth picture in this photoset of, red bartsia, bird’s-foot trefoil, white and broad-leaved clover, small scabious, knapweed, notably big bright pink bits of thistle woolly thistle, self-heal, agrimony, dock, honeysuckle, carrot, wild parsnip, ragwort, speedwell and late pyramidal orchid which was brilliant to see. 

And hosted within the meadows were a wealth of butterflies. I did what was probably my first Big Butterfly Count outside of Hampshire since being here two years ago this week. Within the counting I saw one Red Admiral, eight Marbled Whites lovely to see these that are coming to their end at home a great few out of these one of my favourite butterflies here still, one Painted Lady, eleven Gatekeepers leading the way we saw their sweet orange glow and markings so much this afternoon, five Meadow Brown, one Speckled Wood, three Small White, two Six Spot Burnet moth, one Common Blue, one Small Copper and one Ringlet. This was a brilliant count, one of my highest yielding in the two of the three weeks of counting so far this year for me and one of my biggest variety of species. It felt so good to help document these here today and was just so rewarding to see so many. Seeing Small Copper and Painted Lady was great and left few of the Big Butterfly Count target species that I haven’t seen on a count yet this year. I hadn’t seen either for a little while as well so it was great to see as Common Blues continued to come back into my year after seeing them at Lakeside yesterday. It was ten years ago yesterday that I had the day I still remember so well instantly recognising it as a butterfly I’d seen in the book we have on a typical for us walk of 2011 at Godshill in the New Forest seeing my first ever Small Copper and feeling it was something so exotic probably my most exciting butterfkt of that year. I made this Tumblr around that time as the anniversary post I did earlier shows so it was very fitting to see Small Coppers again today. I took the fifth picture in this photoset of one.

And as we walked around here I was so excited that we saw our targets. Firstly my Mum called me over as I was lagging behind and she had two butterflies she thought were Wall Browns behind a fence. Being very much like Small Copper a butterfly I have identified and known a lot since we first got into butterflies I came and had a look and with one settled saw it was a Wall Brown. I was over the moon to see this special dry brown butterfly looking smashing. It was the big milestone in my butterfly year, something I had described as the promised land before in a butterfly year for me my 40th butterfly species I’ve seen this year. And this one felt special as it always does one of my favourite butterflies but also because after them being something I’d only seen in Pembrokeshire before since 2016 we have seen them every year on the Dorset and even Hampshire coast seeing them in Cornwall, Norfolk and Northumberland the past two years too and this year it was the longest wait we’d had to see one in a year since 2016. They’re never a guarantee in a year for us so this was a huge relief of a butterfly to get seen this year. And at this site which has excelled for them for us in the past we saw a very healthy handful of them dancing along walls and long grass this afternoon.

Moving on and our search for the Lulworth Skipper now stepped up, with the sun still out and it pretty warm with potential for further showers in the day we wanted to seize our chance in the meadows with the sun out which were swaying in the wind a bit too. Then all of a sudden coming through a gate into a field we spotted a little orange spec gliding through the grass. Our first skipper today, it looked small enough (compared to the familiar Small Skipper) for the Lulworth and when it settled it opened its wings revealing the gorgeous and distinctive lighter orange crescent on the wing of the female Lulworth Skipper!

We had seen this golden gem of a rare butterfly. I was so overjoyed to get precious moments with this monumental species in another fantastic year of butterflies for us trying for photos with my macro lens I managed the sixth picture in this photoset of it which shows it nicely really getting stuck into the flower. We saw a few more further on in the walk and coming back through the same area too. They were sensational to see it made me so happy. And it takes my butterfly year list up to very high places for me personally. Now 2021 is outright my fourth highest ever butterfly year list only one behind the amount I saw in 2018. And on this date in my previous years only in my highest ever butterfly year list 2019 had I seen more at this stage. I am so proud of this as I said butterfly species could have easily been missed this year in the changeable weather but we’ve persevered and these past few weeks it’s been brilliant to feel like putting the icing on the cake of another epic and characteristic butterfly year with the exciting high summer species and big moments with so many species and individuals about. As we did at another point of the walk we met some lovely people when looking at the Lulworth Skipper and had a great chat often a key part of the enjoyment of big days out in years like these.

Walking around Durlston a very special place for us today we took in the stunning views of the wonderful mixture of cliffs, sea and meadows seeing into Poole Harbour nicely too with some smashing dramatic sky scenes above the ocean and land too making for unique views for us here. I also took the second, third and seventh pictures in this photoset of beautiful views here today. What a beautiful place my favourite type of area this type of coast. We saw as we did on this trip in 2019 some pretty Roe Deers skulking around in the long grass we got some very special views of these lovely mammals today I tweeted a picture of these on Dans_Pictures tonight. We got smashing views of one of our star birds of this place especially three of the last four visits earlier this year going to Dancing Ledge too, last year’s and April 2019 the Whitethroat today a really rich looking warbler that after another great year for I made the most of having this migrant around. After any threat of showers were held off for a long time when out today making us pleased we came today there were some menacing clouds that didn’t materialize as we sat down giving Missy our dog a rest from the walking. I took the ninth picture in this photoset of the lovely light cloud I’ve enjoyed so much this year here. 

At this point it became a top day of birds too with some Shags seen flying low over the sea water below the cliff as we took in splendid panoramic views with some nice sunlight over the water as we’ve seen well here before making it shine. There was another Wall Brown along a wall and top Stonechat views a bird I first ever saw at this reserve in 2007 and the Stonechat tried to catch the Wall Brown at one point which was interesting. Ravens dashed astonishingly  right over our heads barking loudly as they went, amazing views of this crow so strong a coastal sight. We saw one later on too going over our head fantastically again. Swifts glided perfectly over too another migratory bird I made the most of today in a strong year for them. Sat here without a care in the world, with all we needed for that moment, we had achieved an in invigorating sense of peace and happiness. A special moment of reflection and delight on this one of my days of the year. We saw two great flowers sat on the ground here too, ironiclly as we were resting my second ever restharrow after some at Stockbridge Down last summer and some cut looking mother of thyme. 

With so many photos (making most of the ones from today in these blogs exclusive to reduce the amount I tweeted tonight) and so much content the story of today comes in two parts, in my next post is the rest and the wildlife sightings summary for the whole trip. I hope you all had a nice and safe day. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #397

“you’re my religion, you’re my reason to live  /  you are the heaven in my hell”

Do you think that you’ll always love who you love now? Even if we're never together again romantically, I will ALWAYS love her at least as a best friend. Have you ever made out with a random person? Yeah, no. If you could do your first kiss over, would you? No. I'm lucky that my first kiss was honestly cute as hell. Do you like your country’s president or prime minister? Well I voted for him, so I obviously can't hate him. He seems to be doing fine so far, though take that with a grain of salt seeing as I don't keep up with politics. Even before voting for him, I just did a small bit of researching on his values. What color is your house? Yellow with white accents. Do you listen to Christmas music during the holiday season? No, I don't enjoy it. Man, Jason's mom sure did, though... I loved how in the spirit she'd get and always played Christmas music in the car during that time of year. I miss that woman and I sure as hell hope she rests easy now. Do you like ginger ale? Solely if I have a stomach bug, and I can only ever sip it. What are you listening to? "Electric Sugar Pop" by Jeffree Star. What’s the last thing you watched on TV? The TMS office has the TV on, and the woman who overlooks it (I have zero idea what her position is called) tends to have it either on a cooking channel or a home improvement one. Today was a cooking one. Is your favorite author the author of your favorite book? I don't have a favorite author. Describe someone you find really attractive: M-Mark Fischbach. *___* If you HAD to look like someone else, but could choose who, who would you choose? Hm... maybe my friend Alon. I've mentioned I feel like a million times that she is like, ethereal with how gorgeous she is. Have you ever seen someone get a tattoo done? If so, what was it? Did they cry or were they in a lot of pain? Yeah; it was a watercolor feather with "ohana" written below it. She didn't cry at all, but she grit her teeth a few times. Do you have anything you couldn’t go a day without? Some form of technology. Have you ever gotten caught doing something illegal? No. What’s your favorite flavor of Vitamin Water? I don't even think I've ever tried it. Is there someone you wanna date right now? Yeah. What first attracted you to the last person you kissed? If we're talking the very first, our vast similar interests. How many brothers does your father have? None. Does your best friend have any tattoos? No. Do you like Ben + Jerry’s? Yep. Man, I want their Phish Food ice cream now. Would you ever wish to be the opposite sex? Nah. Do you think you’re attractive? Nope. What is your favorite card game to play? Magic: The Gathering. I really miss my PS3 where I had Duel of the Planeswalkers installed on it, it was really fun. Do you own a globe? I don't think we still do. What is your favorite wild cat? Perhaps clouded leopards. If your bedroom had three portals to anywhere, where would they lead? South Africa, Sara's place, and maybe a nice little cabin in the mountains for when I'm feeling a peaceful getaway. You can ask any author one question about their story. What do you ask? I have zero idea. What’s a place you have a strong emotional connection to? The pond behind the local community college. Jason and I took our first prom pictures there. Do you take yoga classes? No, but I'm actually considering it since they offer those at the YMCA Mom and I now go to. What is a decision you’ve made that changed your entire life? To let Jason go. It's pretty great, my PTSD has been less of a bother lately! Have you ever made any money from a side-hustle? Could you consider being paid to take pictures once in a blue moon a "side hustle" when I don't even have a main job? Do you ever wonder what kind of person you’d have turned out to be if a certain event never happened to you? Ugh... it's incredibly painful to wonder how life would be if Jason never left. If you could have anyone’s singing voice, whose would you choose? Adele's or Amy Lee's, probs. What are your top 3 favorite genres of music? Metal, hard rock, alternative. Do you think Mars will be colonized in your lifetime? No. Have you ever been homeless? If so, what led to your homelessness? Technically, yes, because Mom couldn't afford the rent. She, my little sister (who still lived with us at the time), and I each were accepted into the homes of willing, kind people, though. Have you ever been on a ship? No. Who was Van Halen’s better singer - David Lee Roth, or Sammy Hagar? David. Which fictional character has the most memorable quotes? Heath Ledger's Joker is quoted all the time, so probably him. What do you think of the "Healthy At Every Size" movement/philosophy? Before I answer this, I want you to keep in mind that this is coming from someone who is obese, so I would positively love to agree with that for my own self-confidence, but I don't. I believe it's a very dangerous mentality. I think you should cherish your body unconditionally, like it's an amazing machine, but I firmly believe you should have an active interest in becoming what is physically healthy. You couldn't pay me millions to convince me that, say, a 300 lb. person is healthy. What was the name of the first person you ever had a crush on? Why did you like them? I think my first *real* crush was this guy Sebastian my freshman year of high school. I thought he was very sweet, funny, caring, and attractiveness was a bonus. What food will you absolutely not, under any circumstances, eat? Sashimi, caviar, raw eggs... Which famous person would you like to be BFFs with? Bindi Irwin, for one. What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? Hurricanes. Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? No. Have you ever been bitten so hard that there teeth marks were there after? I mean I've had hickeys before if that's what you're asking. Ever gave one? Oh, I guess you were. Yeah. Do you think its weird if guys wear make-up like eyeliner? Not at all. Would you ever date a disabled person? (Be honest) Yes. Would you rather adopt or have your own child? IF I wanted kids, I'd rather have one myself because I'm well aware I personally need that special connection. Stepkids count, too, because they'd be my partner's and therefore very important for me too. What is the most personal question you have ever been asked? Probably TMI, so here's your fair warning, but I've been asked before if I "touch" myself and I was absolutely repulsed that someone would ask me that. Were you abused by your parents? No. If you’re not straight, who was the first person you came out to? Sara. Were you one of the smartest in your class? Up to finishing high school, modestly, I was. Where did you meet your first crush? Art class my freshman year of high school. Do you ever go places with wet hair? Yeah, idc. Who is your favorite little girl? My niece Aubree. She's such a wonderful girl. Does your best friend have kids? No. If you were pregnant, would you want a boy or a girl? Hypothetically, a girl. What place outside of your own home do you spend the most time at? Um, maybe my older sister's house? Have you ever participated in a medical study? No. Do you have any family members who are cancer survivors? Yes, including my mother. Twice. Are you allergic to any medications? None that I've tried. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have that. If you’re atheist, would you raise you kids believing in God or not? No; I wouldn't intervene with their own spiritual (or lack thereof) journey. They'd learn what they'd learn and decide themselves what they believe. Do you like reading self-help books? No, I just can't get invested in those. What is your opinion on sex change? If you're unhappy with your body, you're more than free to surgically change that with no judgment from me. Do you have any goals for this summer? If so, what are they? Yes, to lose weight. Can you get a strike at bowling? I have before. There was one occasion where my first go was a strike RIGHT after saying I sucked at bowling, hahaha. Do you ever take pictures of negative moments? Well, I photograph roadkill, and that's one hell of a sad moment. I actually wouldn't mind broadening my horizons of photographing negative moments (with permission of course), because I actually find these very impactful and even builds empathy. I will never, ever forget this one picture I saw sometime of an emaciated boy huddled in the dirt with a vulture close by watching him... like fuck, it made me want to sob. No one should ever have to live like that, especially a child. Would you ever post a picture of yourself crying on social media? No. I know that sounds contradictory to what I just said, I just wouldn't be able to do it myself. Have you ever held a newborn baby? Once, when my last niece was born. I'm terrified of holding them because they're just so fragile. Do you know anyone who has twins? My friend just had triplets. What is your favorite country in Europe? Germany. Are you thriving in your life right now? BOY HOWDY- Do you remember to water plants? I don't keep plants. Name three YouTubers you aspire to be like. 1.) Markiplier in a vast plethora of ways; 2.) Jeffree Star for his incredible work ethic; and 3.) Shane Dawson for his incredible compassion. Yes. I know the controversy, but regardless, he cares a lot about people. Who is your favorite character from Harry Potter? I wouldn't know, given I haven't read the books or seen the movies. Do you watch PewDiePie? Not anymore; his content doesn't interest me anymore. I watched him religiously back in the day when he was a serious let's player, though. Do you have a Steam account? Yes. Have you ever played Five Nights at Freddy’s? No, not personally. I like watching LPs of it and I find the story fascinating, but it's not the kind of game I'd enjoy playing. Have you ever tried Akinator? Yes. I don't think I ever beat it, except maybe once. Are you wearing socks right now? No; unless I'm wearing closed-toe shoes like sneakers, I never do. I hate the feeling of them. Can you twerk? Haven't tried, don't wanna. Do you like dabbing? No, it looks stupid. Do you like fishing? I honestly do think it's fun with all the anticipation and thrill of seeing how big the fish is, however I don't support it anymore unless, like hunting, you genuinely need it for food. The only case where I'd go again was if my dad asked me, because that's always been our bonding experience. Do you have a Spotify account? Yes. Have you heard of Blizzard Entertainment? Well, they're the company behind World of Warcraft, so obviously. Do you like bananas? Yes, but only for a VERY short window of time. I am beyond picky with the ripeness of bananas. Are you addicted to anything? Caffeine and technology. Do you know your phone number? I actually don't. Do you swear in front of children? No.

[orcinus-ocean]

Words

What words we use is important. Not only because the image it puts across, but because repeated use of a word actually changes the way our brains work and how we think of the thing described.

This is no less relevant in the field of animals, animal ownership, and the present controversies.

I will list the ones I can think of now, words that either need to be cleansed of their bad connotation, and those that should be reconsidered.

Pet

The word “pet” has gotten a bad taste in the mouth of the public lately. When you speak of someone’s animal, whether it be a dog, horse or tiger, as a “pet”, they feel insulted and tell you “NO, my animal is so much more to me than a pet!”

But really, what’s wrong with this word?

Let’s look at some definitions:

Google: a domestic or tamed animal kept for companionship or pleasure. Merriam-Webster: a pampered and usually spoiled child a person who is treated with unusual kindness or consideration: darling a domesticated animal kept for pleasure rather than utility Cambridge Dictionary: an animal that is kept in the home as a companion and treated kindly to be the person that someone in authority likes best and treats better than anyone else Dictionary.com: any domesticated or tamed animal that is kept as a companion and cared for affectionately. a person especially cherished or indulged; favorite Wikipedia: A pet, or companion animal, is an animal kept primarily for a person's company, entertainment or as an act of compassion such as taking in and protecting a stray cat, rather than as a working animal, livestock or laboratory animal.

In all these, we can clearly see a pattern. An animal that is beloved, treated well, and not used for any special purpose. And extended to humans, a favorite, treated especially well.

There is literally not a single negative connotation to this word. So where did the negative attitude come from? I’m not quite sure, yet I was among these people not long ago. I preferred to talk about “my animals”, or “companion animals” in general. “Pet” somehow felt as if one is talking about an animal as only a possession.

I don’t have a good answer as to where this has actually come from, but I suspect it’s just another part of the forthstriding animal rights movement. The move to view non-human animals as “people” in strange outfits, and this will show further in most of the other words.

I think “pet” needs to be cleansed and brought back to what it really means - a beloved, tame animal treated with care and affection, that is not used as livestock or a work animal.

Zoo

I suspect that a large majority of the public are still okay with going to a place called “the zoo”. But a growing number of people are not, yet they would have no problem paying money to visit a “sanctuary” or “wildlife park”. I have pondered for a few years whether zoos should go along with this cultural shift and rename themselves, for example “wildlife parks” - or if we should double down and cleanse the word “zoo”.

What is the origin of this word? Obviously, it’s from “zoology” and “zoological”, which has roots in the greek word “zoo”, put into anything relating to animals.

The 19th century had “Zoological gardens” and “Zoological parks”, and this was later shortened to a simple “Zoo”.

The only reason this word has a bad taste in the mouth of some today is because of the image of zoos. Since some people still think this...

...is how zoos work today (the photo is from the 1930s). If we give in and agree “yes, zoos need a rebranding”, I think that will only slightly delay what we don’t want to happen, which is AR orgs going for the jugular and making it impossible for zoos to exist.

TL;DR: “Zoo” is simply short for “zoological garden”, as in a place where animals are kept for public display.

Adopted/Bought

Ouch... I can’t be the only one who is getting pretty sick of this one. Definitions, again.

Google: legally take (another's child) and bring it up as one's own. Cambridge Dictionary: to legally take another person's child into your own family and take care of him or her as your own child to take an animal that has been left in a place such as a rescue centre, and keep it as your pet Merriam-Webster: to take by choice into a relationship Dictionary.com: to choose or take as one's own; make one's own by selection or assent to take and rear (the child of other parents) as one's own child, specifically by a formal legal act. Wikipedia: Adoption is a process whereby a person assumes the parenting of another, usually a child, from that person's biological or legal parent or parents.

I find it interesting that Cambridge Dictionary actually included animals as an optional definition, and that some did not mention children specifically, and thus opening it up for interpretation.

I will grant that “adopt” is also used for completely non-human things, such as “adopting a strategy”, but I think we can all agree that “adopt a pet” came directly from “adopt a child”, and is meant in the same context.

This is where I think this word is completely wrong and should not be used about animals, especially if money was involved. To buy or purchase something, simply means to exchange goods or services for money, and I don’t think I need to prove that with a dictionary.

Where we have a fork in the road is whether we consider animals “goods” or “people”. I certainly don’t think animals are objects, they are living things with feelings and needs and I wish we could have a third legal category between “object” and “person”.

But there doesn’t seem to be one now, and the AR goal is not to create one, but to move animals firmly into the “people” category, which includes things such as the right not to be owned.

If you take an animal from a shelter or other previous owner with no money involved, I can understand if you choose to use this word. But if there is any money involved at all, such as the ridiculously named “adoption fee”, hell no, you bought that animal. There is no shame in it.

Rescued

Oh gods... this one is much worse than the former. Sure, in some rare cases, animals are truly “rescued” and saved from a terrible fate. But this word has been so overused by people who want to feel good about themselves that it has nearly lost all meaning.

You found a starving cat on the street and took it in? Okay, you rescued it. A puppy mill was raided, the animals were put in the local shelter and nursed back to health? Yes, the shelter and officers involved rescued the animals.

You paid money for a random, rehomed animal at the shelter? You did not rescue it. You bought an animal from a bad pet shop? You did not rescue it. You bought an animal from someone who could no longer care for it, maybe even a really terrible owner? You did not rescue it. You bought it!

Again, there is no shame in buying an animal. And the word you use will not change the nature of the transaction, and the fact that the animal had no choice of where it went. It will just encourage the progress of the animal rights mindset in society.

Credit to BCR Watch

Sanctuary

This ones ties in both to “rescued” and “zoos”, above.

A real sanctuary, is supposed to be a place of comfort, where animals that have nowhere else to go (which is why there shouldn’t be very rare animals like white servals at a “sanctuary”) are not bred, not used for work or commercial purposes, and not put on display for the public.

If the facility does any of these things, it’s not a sanctuary.

In reality, a lot of “sanctuaries” holding exotic animals are in fact nothing but rebranded zoos, so that the owners and visitors can feel more “cozy” about the otherwise guilt-inducing “captivity of wild animals”.

The animals have no clue and can’t care about what the sign over the entrance says, or what ideology the owners of the facility believe in. They want to be cared for well, and in this regard, many exotic sanctuaries are only very poorly run roadside zoos with animal rights propaganda sprinkled on top.

Captivity

I have written about this before, and made a post based on a speech by Mark Simmons.

I really want to repeat a single quote from that speech here as well.

I was in the car, riding with a colleague of mine from Japan, and we were talking about this.

She was asking me, “Why is this a problem?” and we finally discovered, and I don’t know Japanese, but I said “Does the word you call for where your animals are in your zoos, is it the same word you use for people you put in prison?” And she went “Oh NO! Oh, that’s horrible!” And I went “Yeah but in English, it is!”

It really is a terrible word, not created by any AR agenda, but an unfortunate remnant from when we did not have the same sensibilities about capturing and keeping (or killing) wild and exotic animals.

As I showed in that other post, all the definitions and synonyms to “captivity” are negative. It is a word connected directly to imprisonment, deprivation, and punishment.

It sure is not how most animals I’ve met live their lives. Their “captivity” is one of comfort, pleasure, and a longer and healthier life than they would have if they were not “captive”, as in, prevented from leaving humans.

Even though some animals will leave when given the chance, the vast majority will have no idea what is going on but will be confused, scared, and completely unfit for a life in the wild, domesticated either by genes or by upbringing.

“Captivity” is the most important word on this list, that I think we should all completely ban from our vocabulary, in regards to animals.

[emospritelet]

Honourable Members

This is partly the fault of @thestraggletag for this post and the subsequent dream I had.  It’s also the fault of Bobby for posting pics of his new project.  I know I said I wouldn’t post it until it was done but I am weak.  Should be a three-parter.  Part two is almost done.  See AO3 re the fictional political parties and Government departments.  Sorry about the title: I am a child :)

AO3 link

If there was one thing Robert Sutherland hated more than any other, it was giving interviews to right-wing lifestyle journalists.  He’d had to suffer through many an indignity in his working life, but relatively little of that life had been under public scrutiny.  He had had what was diplomatically described as an inauspicious start in life, but had developed an interest in politics after becoming a union representative at the factory where he had started work at sixteen.  Coming to Westminster as a backbench MP had opened his eyes to the reality of trying to represent the people he served in a place rife with deep divisions and party infighting.

One of the hardest lessons he had learned was that honesty and integrity did not automatically lead to political success.  A less surprising, if more irritating realisation, was that once you made it to the House of Commons, and especially to the front benches, it was open season on your private life as far as certain sections of the press were concerned.  He thought that it was probably fortunate that he had gotten divorced five years earlier, before becoming leader of his party, but it didn’t stop the speculation about potential love interests. Since leading his party through a successful election campaign, ousting the British Unionists from power in a crushing victory and entering 10 Downing Street, the interest from the press had only grown, and with it the amount of salacious gossip that he tried hard to ignore.

He supposed it was hardly surprising; he had been single since the divorce and happily so, but a vacuum always tempted people to fill it with their own rumours.  His Principal Private Secretary, Carrie de Ville, had assured him that giving interviews to publications such as Green Space would improve his polling amongst right-wing middle class women, but he was beginning to wonder if the current discomfort he felt was worth it.

The current subject of his disdain, Ms Tamara Finlay-Warburton, was perched on a chair in the White State Drawing Room, a porcelain cup of tea steaming in its saucer on the table beside her.  The red-haired woman had been servile to the point of revulsion, but there was a predatory gleam in her blue eyes that told him she was in no way to be trusted.  10 Downing Street’s resident cat, Arthur, had taken one look at her and scurried off, and he considered that a black mark against her character before she had even opened her mouth.

“So,” purred Ms Finlay-Warburton, tapping her pencil on her notebook.  “Still unmarried, after all these years. It must get lonely, having no one to share your success with.”

“Can’t say I’ve thought about it,” he said.  “A little too busy with matters of state.”

“So there’s no special someone?” she pressed.  “No dirty little secrets? We’re all aware of how indispensable your secretary is.”

“Yes, Carrie is my right hand woman,” he said honestly.

“So there’s no sexual tension there?”

He blinked at that.

“Uh - no,” he said.  “Our relationship is very professional.”

“But so many relationships start in the workplace, don’t they?”

“That may be true,” he said, feeling his irritation grow.  “But she’s already married.”

“Well, it’s not as though that’s a barrier to anyone these days,” she said airily. “You can imagine the opportunities for gossip, I’m sure.”

“Did you do any research before this interview?” he asked waspishly.  “She’s married to a woman!”

“Oh.”

She looked momentarily stumped, and shuddered delicately, as though Carrie’s private life was somehow distasteful.  It made him dislike her all the more.

“Well, I did a piece on her last year,” she said.  “I must have forgotten that, but then I was concentrating on her time at university.  Quite the wild thing in her youth.”

“I couldn’t care less what she got up to,” he said, reaching for his tea, and counting down the seconds until the allotted fifteen minutes was up.  “She’s extremely competent.”

“So, no sparks flying from that direction,” she said vaguely, scribbling in her notebook.  “Of course, the other rumour is that you’re having an affair with the intern.  Comments?”

Sutherland almost spat out his tea.

“Alice?”

She sat forward, pale eyes gleaming.

“Why so surprised?” she purred.  “Pretty young girl, blonde curls, all that energy and innocence of youth.  A little odd, by all accounts, so she probably needs taking under your wing and protecting.  Plus, I hear she’s always pulling your tie straight and dusting your shoulders.  Rather familiar for a mere minion, wouldn’t you say?”

“I can assure you she’d think the idea of the two of us sleeping together both hilarious and revolting,” he said tersely.  “And don’t ever call her a minion in my presence again.”

“Ooh, looks like I touched a nerve,” she said, with a smirk.  “No need to hide your office romance from me, Prime Minister.”

“I’m not,” he snapped.

“And why should my readers believe that?”

“Because I’m a massive lesbian!” announced Alice cheerfully, breezing into the room with a leather folder in her hands and her blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders.  “Going from what you write in that magazine of yours, I’m probably at least partly responsible for the decline of society, but I have to say I’m having a lot of fun with it.”

Ms Finlay-Warburton looked as though she’d bitten something sour, and sat back as Alice leaned over to place the folder in Sutherland’s hand.  Alice grinned and leaned closer, making her shrink almost into the cushions of the chair.

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Alice pleasantly.  “You’re so not my type.  I did put my nasty gay hands all over the biscuits though, so I hope you didn’t eat any.”

Sutherland bit the inside of his cheeks to hide a smile, and she winked at him.

“Carrie said to tell you that the car will be here in a moment, sir,” she said.

“Thank you, Alice.”  He stood, tugging his cuffs straight.  “Ms Finlay-Warburton, you must excuse me. Prime Minister’s Questions, you know.  Ms de Ville will show you out.”

He strode out of the room, wanting to sigh with relief, and made it to the waiting car without incident.  It idled outside Number 10, the engine purring as they waited for Carrie to emerge with his briefcase.  She appeared in less than a minute, sharply-tailored charcoal grey trouser suit and white silk shirt beneath a gleaming bob of blonde hair.  She slid onto the back seat beside him, setting the briefcase between them, and the door thumped shut before the car pulled away. Sutherland slipped the leather folder into the case, and Carrie looked at him with some amusement.

“I hear the interview went well,” she said wryly.  “She seemed not to want to shake my hand, so I can only assume she’s remembered I’m a raging homosexual.”

“I don’t understand why you delight in inviting bigots to interview me.”

“Oh, it’s fun,” she said airily.  “They’re always the easiest to offend.  Besides, it’s a section of society in which you need to improve your polling.  You’re falling down with the ‘traditional family values’ mob.”

“I don’t need the support of intolerant arseholes,” he said sourly.

“Now now,” she chided.  “That’s not the attitude to take.  Their votes are as good as anyone’s.  And not all of them are like Ms Fanny-Wobblebum, I assure you.”

“Bloody gossip-monger!” he grumbled, running a hand through short, greying hair.  “She could have asked about the new policy on free childcare or the money for women’s support services, but instead it’s a bunch of bloody shite about work-based romance!  Are they expecting me to be shagging half my staff?”

“Probably.”

“Well, they’re in for a disappointment.”

“Oh, they’ll just make something up, you know how it goes.”

“They’re welcome to.”  He sat back with a sigh.  “Any idea what’s coming up in PMQs?”

“Other than the usual?” she asked.  “Nothing I’ve heard. We’re as prepared as we can be.”

“Good.”

x

The Commons was in excellent voice, the benches filled with MPs, almost all of whom were awake and contributing to the noise.  Sutherland tuned it out, tapping his fingers on the papers in front of him, the crisp white cuffs of his shirt just visible above the sleeves of his black suit.  He knew the contents of his papers by heart, but having them there was useful nonetheless, allowing him to collect his thoughts when necessary. Prime Minister’s Questions was in full swing, and having delivered a ringing endorsement of the government’s economic record in response to a question from his own side, he was waiting for the resulting shouts of derision and braying cheers to die down before the first of the questions from the Opposition back benches.

“Miss Belle French!” bellowed the Speaker.

Sutherland’s brow crinkled for a moment. French, French.  Ah, of course.  New Liberals.  Just won the by-election in Avonleigh.  Carrie says she’s one to watch.

“Thank you, Mr Speaker.”

He glanced around, trying to see where the voice was coming from. There. God, she’s tiny!  A young woman was standing in the top right of the rows of benches.  Small and pale, with deep red lips and chestnut hair tied neatly back, she was dressed in a very respectable dark blue dress and jacket.  She was perhaps five feet four, although his guess could be off by an inch or two, depending on how high her heels were. She was also incredibly pretty, but he did his best to ignore that fact.

“Mr Speaker,” she began, “last week in my constituency of Avonleigh, I received some truly shocking news regarding Government contractor Wolsingham plc and its negligent attitude to its waste treatment facility.  It appears that waste material from the production plant bordering my constituency has been leaking out and is in danger of polluting the water supplies used by local farmers.”

A familiar noise rose in the House, a booming chorus of denials from the Government benches, and roars of support from the Opposition.  Sutherland wanted to sigh. Questions about Wolsingham plc were inevitable, he supposed; nothing stayed secret for long in politics, but he had hoped to avoid the issue for a little longer.

“Rumours have also spread,” she went on, “that the company itself is failing and that its assets are being sold off piecemeal while it destroys the land around it!”

The noise had increased to a roar, the odd bleating noise from some of the older politicians, order papers being waved.

“Having - having made some enquiries—” Miss French was having to shout to be heard over the din.  “—I was shocked to discover that not only was Wolsingham plc fully aware of the pollution, but had done - had - had done—”

The clamour from the House had reached a level loud enough to drown her out, and she bit her lip, clearly frustrated.

“Order!” shouted the Speaker, calming the noise somewhat.  “The Honourable lady must be allowed to put her question!  Which I have every hope she will do very shortly, rather than treat us to a lengthy speech!  Miss French!”

“Thank you, Mr Speaker.”

She was still looking frustrated, and Sutherland sensed that she would abandon the speech, ask her question and be done.  Good.

“My constituents are concerned that special interest groups may be influencing Government policy regarding Wolsingham plc,” she said. “Particularly in respect of their continued breach of environmental legislation, and the company’s future financial viability. What assurances can the Prime Minister give me to take back to my constituents that their concerns are being addressed?”

Sutherland nodded as he stood up at the despatch box, catching her eye. She was staring at him with a strange mixture of caution and hope.

“Let me be amongst the first to welcome the Honourable lady to the House,” he said.  “I trust that she will serve her constituents well, and the country as a whole. This Government is - aware - of the reports of which she speaks, and I can assure her that they are being looked into.  A statement will be made in due course.”

He sat down to indicate that he was finished, shuffling the papers in his hands. Miss French was bouncing on her toes, mouth opening and closing and looking outraged, but the Speaker called another name, and she was forced to sit down, her face like thunder.  Sutherland tried to put her out of his mind as he listened to a question from his own side. A pity she had chosen to raise the bloody subject today, but there it was. No doubt the press would now start digging around, and the whole shit show would be wide open for all to see before they could get everything sewn up.  New MPs.  Always so bloody idealistic.

Once PMQs was over, he gathered his papers, slipping them into his briefcase before stepping away from the despatch box.  There was to be a debate on renewable energy, but he left the Environment Secretary to make the Government’s arguments. Carrie was waiting for him in the lobby, foot tapping impatiently on the stone tiles.  She flicked her hair out of her eyes and arched a brow at him as he left the chamber.

“Well, that was reasonably successful,” she said, taking the briefcase from him and shoving it at one of her assistants as they began walking.  “I thought we might go through the preparations for the President’s visit after your four o’clock.”

“Yes, fine,” he said.  “I believe her wife is coming too?”

“So my counterpart across the pond tells me.”

“Good.  We’ll host them at Chequers, but I’ll leave any decisions on menus and entertainment in your hands.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Prime Minister!”

He wanted to sigh as a clear voice cut across the lobby.  Miss French.  Of course.  He kept walking, shoes ringing on the gleaming tiles.

“Prime Minister, if I might have a word?”

She trotted up beside him, but he didn’t slow his stride.  Carrie looked at her somewhat askance, but said nothing.

“What is it, Miss French?” he asked dismissively.

“My question about Wolsingham plc,” she said, her voice impatient.  “You completely shut me down!”

“No, I gave you an answer,” he said.  “Just not the one you wanted.”

“I told my constituents I would raise the matter with you personally!”

“And so you have,” he said, and turned away from her to Carrie, who was watching him with an amused glint in her eyes.  “Carrie, can we fit Mr Llewellyn in before six, do you think?”

“I could find ten minutes in your diary, sir, no more.  And even that would be a squeeze.”

“Do that, then,” he said.  “If you can get one of your staff to prepare a one-page briefing paper beforehand? I’d rather not go in cold.”

“Consider it done.”

“Thank you.”

They walked on, and Miss French trotted to keep up.

“Prime Minister, might I schedule some time with you to discuss my concerns?” she asked, and he glanced across at her.

“Put your question in writing to Ms de Ville, Miss French, if you’re unhappy with the answer I gave,” he said impatiently.

“It wasn’t an answer!” she retorted.  “It - it was a fudge! You didn’t tell me anything!”

“As I said, put any further requests to my secretary in writing,” he said.

“A letter?” she scoffed.  “Should I sign it with a quill pen?  This isn’t the nineteenth century!”

“There are still protocols to follow, as you’re well aware,” he said.  “I’ve already said we will be making a statement in due course, and I have nothing further to add at this time.”

He walked on, the entrance looming in front of him, spring sunshine spreading across the tiles.  He could hear the rapid click of Miss French’s shoes as she sought to keep up with his stride, and rolled his eyes as they stepped out into the warm spring sunlight.  The press pack waited some way beyond, cameras clicking and flashing, reporters waiting with mikes outstretched, and Miss French was still at his heels like an insistent terrier.

“Prime Minister, I really don’t think you understand how worrying this is for my constituents,” she said, a little breathlessly.  “If we could just sit down to discuss the matter, I’m sure we could—”

Sutherland stopped abruptly, spinning on his toes to face her as he finally lost patience.

“Miss French, are you deaf or merely stupid?” he snapped.  “For the last time, I have nothing to say to you regarding Wolsingham plc and this will remain the case until the Government delivers its official statement on the matter!”

She stared at him, strands of chestnut hair buffeted by the wind.  Her eyes were wide and very blue, her cheeks smooth and pale. She had full lips, painted with a deep red lipstick that outlined them perfectly.  They were slightly parted in shock at his outburst, but there was also fire in her eyes, something he recognised well from his own youth, when he had been filled with ideals, with the desire to do good.  It made him feel old and irrelevant. An ancient political dragon, facing a young would-be slayer, Chosen One of the people. Oddly, it also made him want to stand his ground, to roar and belch out flames one last time to protect what he hoarded.  Instead, he tried for a more measured, dismissive approach. The young firebrand was gone, after all, mellowed by the years into the elder statesman.

“Put your concerns in writing,” he said, more calmly.  “Ms de Ville will bring them to my attention as she sees fit.”

Miss French worked her jaw a little.

“I thought at least you might hear me out,” she said.  “I’m aware you were born and raised in a deprived community, you must know how dependent my people are on the land around them, and—”

“I got where I am by knowing how to pick my battles,” he interrupted. “Something you appear to have no concept of, but which you’ll learn in time, I have no doubt.  If you want to be anything other than a voice in the wilderness, you need to learn how to bend in the wind, follow protocol, and understand that sometimes progress happens in ways you may not always like.”

“I came here to serve my constituents!” she protested, raising her hands and letting them fall.  “To give a voice to those who can’t speak out for themselves, to - to help people!  Not to become part of the problem!”

“Enjoy your time on the back benches, then,” he said, his tone dismissive. “Spend time in your constituency, and leave the politics to those of us who are in touch with reality.  While you’re listening to tales of woe and patting shoulders and kissing babies, you’ll become increasingly irrelevant.”

She opened her mouth angrily, but he cut her off.

“You’re not part of some Borough Council anymore,” he said scathingly.  “Time to grow up. See the big picture.”

“Don’t patronise me!”

“Don’t act like a child, then.”

She took a step towards him, eyes flashing with the light of challenge.  It was giving him a tiny thrill, a tight ball of fire in his chest that was sending a pulsing trail of heat down to his groin.  No one had dared to get in his face to this extent for years, instead shouting their insults from across the benches or making sly comments about his alleged incompetence to the press.  To have someone go toe-to-toe with him outside the Houses of Parliament was almost exhilarating.

“So, one little push back from a woman, and the misogyny surfaces,” she said, in a flat tone.  “Why am I not surprised?”

“My assessment of your behaviour is based on your inexperience and current attitude, not your gender.”

“And you want to teach me a lesson, is that it, sir?”

Oh, his mind did not need to go there!  He yanked it back before his imagination could cause too much mischief.

“I have every confidence that your peers will do that, Miss French,” he said coldly.  “Do us all an enormous favour and try not to get above yourself in the meantime.”

“If you think you can pat me on the head and shut me up, you’re mistaken!”

He smiled at that, knowing how it would irritate her, and was proven right as her glare intensified.

“Well, I must say this passion is admirable,” he drawled.  “But ultimately pointless.  Political naivety may play well in whatever backwater constituency you managed to claw your way into, but in Westminster it’ll get you eaten alive.”

“I have no intention of - of letting you eat me!” she snapped.

A faint blush had risen on her cheeks, and he felt an odd lurch in his belly as his active mind helpfully provided an alternative meaning for that phrase.  She was glaring at him, eyes shooting blue sparks, chin raised as though she would bite him.

“Then take my advice,” he said.  “Pick your battles. Fall in line. And wait your bloody turn.”

“So, they got to you, too?” she said bitterly.  “I might have known. I knew there had to be some reason everyone’s lips are sealed.  Wolsingham has his dirty little fingers in every political pie going, it seems to me.”

As fascinating as she was, Sutherland had had enough.  He raised an admonitory finger, leaning in as his eyes bored into hers and she met him stare for stare.

“You’re new here, Miss French,” he growled, his accent thickening.  “So I’m gonna let that one slide. You ever question my integrity again, and you and I are gonna have a problem, understood?”

She swallowed, sudden fear in her eyes.  It was gone almost as quickly as it had come, her jaw tightening as she faced him down.  Really, she was magnificent. There were flashes in the air around them, the click of cameras, and he wanted to groan as he remembered they were in the sights of the entirety of the Westminster press.  At least they were out of reach of any microphones, he supposed. He leaned back, swallowing his anger, and nodded curtly.

“Good day, Miss French.”

He turned on his heel, Carrie side-eyeing him before following him to the car. Reporters clamoured, questions being fired at him, but he ignored them all, slipping onto the back seat and staring straight ahead as Carrie got in on the other side.  The door closed with a heavy thump, and the sounds of the waiting press were cut off immediately. Thank God for armour plating.

“Well,” said Carrie, as the car pulled slowly away.  “That was - bracing.”

She sounded highly amused, and he decided to change the subject before she could start teasing him.

“Who’s next?” he asked.

“Lunch first,” she said promptly.  “Then I thought we might go through the Select Committee papers before tomorrow.  And you have a four-thirty with the Chancellor.”

“Fine.”

Sutherland sat back as the car headed for Downing Street, trying to ignore his thumping heart.  Miss French was a mouthy nuisance, to be sure, and he wanted to put her from his mind, but the encounter had made him feel more alive than he had in years.

x

The heavy tick of the clock on the wall showed that it was after ten, and Sutherland pinched the bridge of his nose to clear his eyes.  A large tabby cat with white socks was settled comfortably on a pile of discarded papers to his left, purring contentedly. Arthur’s job was supposedly to catch mice, but he seemed to spend most of his time sleeping as far as Sutherland could tell.  He didn’t mind that too much; he liked cats, and it was nice to have a little company in the evenings when he finally stopped working. He scratched Arthur’s ears, receiving a nuzzle in response, and set the final document aside just as Carrie entered.  She had a glass of whisky in one hand, a pile of newspapers in the crook of her arm and a wide grin on her face.

“Well, at least you made the front page.”

She dropped the first editions of the next day’s papers on his desk, startling the cat into a standing position. He lashed his striped tail before settling down again, tucking his feet under as the top newspaper—a copy of The Sun—slithered off the pile into Sutherland’s hands.  A picture took up almost the entire page, a close-up of he and Miss French practically nose to nose, glaring at one another with every ounce of the mutual disdain they could muster.  The headline above, in thick red letters, shouted GET A ROOM!

Sutherland groaned under his breath as Carrie chortled, and despite himself he read the opening paragraphs of the drivel masquerading as an article. Sparks flew this afternoon outside the Houses of Parliament as Avonleigh’s stunning New Liberal MP Belle French went toe-to-toe with the PM!  Petite brunette Belle (29) let Sutherland have it with both barrels! You could cut the sexual tension with a knife, and your Sun reporter wonders how they might break their deadlock outside of a bedroom!  Policy difference or lovers’ tiff? See more on page 2! Pages 4 and 5: Belle French - bombshell or bitch?

He tossed the paper aside in disgust, and Carrie caught it, grinning at him.

“Now now,” she chided.  “Don’t blame the press for the stories they cover.”

“It’s The Sun,” he growled.  “One flash of a pretty woman’s legs and they collectively lose their tiny minds.”

“So, you think she’s pretty?”

“Please tell me she didn’t give an interview,” he sighed, ignoring her question.

“Not that I can see,” she said.  “But the two of you made the front of every tabloid there is.  Even pushed the latest horror story about a new Ice Age off page 1 of The Express.”

“Wonders will never cease,” he remarked.

“I expect she might use the sudden interest to publicise her concerns over Wolsingham, though.”

“Well, that can’t be helped,” he sighed.  “It’s all gonna come out soon, anyway. However things go.  Did we hear anything from DII?”

“Talks still ongoing with potential administrators.”

He grunted.  Lengthy talks about financial viability never boded well, in his experience.

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, looking the paper over.  “They’re not wrong. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife.”

“Fuck’s sake, Carrie…”

“I’m teasing.”  She rolled up the paper and swatted him with it.  “I’m sure your intentions are completely honourable.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, hers might not be…”

“Can we leave Miss French out of this?” he snapped.  “Is there any actual news I need to hear?”

“Apparently William Hill’s have slashed the odds on you getting married during this Parliament to seven to one.”

“Carrie!”

“Alright, fine!” she sighed.  “The Guardian didn’t mention the spat; however, they have picked up on the precarious position of Wolsingham plc and are starting to put feelers out.  You have a nine o’clock tomorrow with the Minister. There’s a briefing in the folder at the bottom of that pile.”

“Thank you.”

“The Telegraph, Independent and Financial Times are focusing on the prospective deal with the US, unsurprisingly,” she said.  “I thought we might release the President’s proposed itinerary tomorrow.”

“Yes, fine,” he said absently.  “Are we expecting any protests?”

Carrie snorted, setting down the glass of whisky.

“Since that bigoted, racist disaster was ousted and thrown in jail, public perception of the White House has improved greatly.”

“Not wholly surprising,” he remarked, and she nodded.

“A few small groups have requested permission to march,” she said.  “Mainly pacifists, anti-capitalists and anti-pharma, nothing to cause any real disruption.”

“Fine,” he said, pushing the pile of newspapers away and sitting back in his chair.  “Go on, get home. I’m sure Ursula would like to see some of you this week.”

“I’m sure she’d like to see all of me,” she said, with a wink.  “Are you sure? I can stay if you need my input on anything.”

“Go home,” he said firmly.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.  “Don’t stay up all night.  And try not to let the gutter press give you nightmares, hmm?”

“Would you bugger off before I change my mind?”

She swept out, chuckling, and he sighed, reaching for the glass of whisky she had brought him and sitting back in his chair.  It wouldn’t hurt to take a break. There were some papers he wanted to look through, but nothing that needed his immediate attention.  He sipped at the whisky, enjoying the smooth burn on his tongue, the warmth of good alcohol and the taste of honey, peat and smoke.

The image of Belle French kept swimming to the front of his mind, blue eyes sparking with anger and passion, and he scowled to himself, shoving the memory away.  So what if she had intrigued him? She had all but accused him of impropriety in respect of a Government contractor. The fact that her claim was bollocks was beside the point; she had no business throwing around accusations with the press pack just out of reach.  He recalled that Carrie had caught some of her campaign on a visit to Avonleigh, and had been impressed with the dedication and passion she had seen, but if Miss French was to succeed, she would need to learn to bend a little. She wouldn’t last long in Westminster if she couldn’t rein in her clearly impulsive nature.  Her fellow MPs would soon steer her right.

He shook his head, wondering why he was wasting time thinking about her future.  It wasn’t as though they would be working together, and she was on the Opposition benches, if not in the official party of Opposition, so hardly likely to be looking to him as a potential mentor.  Even if she was, the woman was clearly wet behind the ears and he didn’t have the patience to deal with that level of inexperience. Besides, it was unlikely they would cross paths unless he wished it; as a new back-bencher she had been lucky to get to ask a question at PMQs.  There would be no reason for him to have to endure her impertinence again.

He drank the last of the whisky, putting down the glass with a clunk and making the rare decision to go to bed at a reasonable hour.  Arthur seemed to sense that he was making a move, and stood up, stretching paws in front of him and curling his tail over. Sutherland petted him, pushing back his chair and heading for the door, the cat sauntering in his wake as he prayed for a decent night’s sleep, free of dreams of fiery young blue-eyed goddesses with perfect lips.

[pamphletstoinspire]

Catholic Social Doctrine - Part 1 - The Dignity of The Human Person

Here is Part 1 of a seven part series outlining the Four Pillars of Catholic Social Teaching. Forget The Da Vinci Code or the Hidden Secrets of the Vatican or the other conspiratorial rubbish people run around looking for in the Church’s attic. Here is the real Best Kept Secret in the Church:

The Dignity of the Human Person

Catholic social doctrine mystifies many people. Is it political or theological, spiritual or practical, left or right, modern or ancient?

Rather like the moment Jesus asked his apostles, “Who do people say that I am?” and got a wide diversity of opinions and guesses back, so today the Church’s social teaching is regarded with tremendous confusion.

It’s good, then, to take a look at how the Church herself understands her social doctrine and to see how she traces the roots of this doctrine back to the teaching of the Twelve Apostles.

The Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church does this and is the indispensable basis for understanding everything that follows from it. In the words of Pope St. John Paul II: “The theological dimension is needed both for interpreting and for solving present-day problems in human society” (Centesimus Annus, 55).

The first thing to notice is that the Church’s teaching on social doctrine is indeed rooted, as all of her teachings are, in the apostolic Tradition — particularly as it is expressed in Scripture. This, in itself, is often a revelation to many moderns, both Catholic and non-Catholic, who often seem to be under the impression that Catholic social doctrine is an attempt by the Church to be hip, not an attempt to be faithful to the teaching of Christ.

In reality, however, Catholic social doctrine springs not from some social, economic or political theory of recent vintage. Rather, it arises from the often uncomfortable fact that God has given us not one, but two, great commandments. The first is, of course: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind” (Matthew 22:37). If the faith simply consisted of this commandment, we would be able to go to some sort of private worship ceremony in our prayer closet and pay no attention to anybody but God. It would be the perfect “Me and Jesus” sect of one.

But Jesus forever complexified matters when he immediately added: “And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the law and the prophets” (Matthew 22:39-40). Yet he complexified it further still, when he ratcheted up the command to love others as we love ourselves — which gave us enough slack to treat others as badly as we treat ourselves — to the command that we love one another as he has loved us (John 15:12).

It is from the demand of perfect love, not merely for a perfect God, but for highly imperfect neighbors, that all of Catholic social teaching springs. The whole doctrine is plainly impossible and absurd without the grace of God, of course — like expecting a horse-whipped and crucified man to walk out of a tomb in a miraculously glorified body. But since the confidence of the Church is that this is precisely what has occurred, let’s take a look at Catholic social teaching anyway.

Catholic social teaching sits on a throne with four legs:

1. The Dignity of the Human Person 2. The Common Good 3. Subsidiarity 4. Solidarity

Over the next four columns, we will look at each of these, starting presently with the dignity of the human person.

Catholic social teaching begins at the beginning, with the fact that God is the origin of all that exists and the measure of what should be. Every social reformer, even an atheist, who cries in outrage, “That’s not the way it is supposed to be!” — when a child starves, or an oppressed worker commits suicide, or a war breaks out, or a poor mother is bled white by tyrannical taxes or a lunatic dictator starves his people — has in the back of his mind, however dimly, a notion of what the Church calls “the dignity of the human person.”

That dignity is rooted in the fact that each and every human person is not a mere animal and still less a mere thing. This is why slavery is evil: It reduces persons to things called property. It is why prostitution is evil: It reduces persons to things used to gratify a particular sensation. It is why murder is evil: It reduces persons to things called corpses.

Each human person is a creature made in the image and likeness of God: an animal with a rational soul, capable of communion with God, able to love, to think creatively, to see, think and feel beyond mere appetite. We are not a means to an end. We are, according to the Church, the only creatures in the universe that exist for our own sake (The Church in the Modern World, 24): made out of the sheer love of God and intended for free union in the love of God.

In short, Catholic teaching on our dignity begins with the fact that creation — especially the creatures called homo sapiens — is entirely gratuitous. Out of sheer love God created both the universe and us and calls us to share in his divine life. He forgives our sins, generously pouring himself out to us while calling, teaching and enabling us to do as he does and to become participants in his divine life.

All authentic religious experience takes us toward this reality, which is why the Golden Rule — “Do unto others as you would have them do to you” — is universally recognized. Cats see no reason to be fair to mice, but humans grasp that everybody is owed fair dealing, justice, etc. — even when they won’t admit it. Some will try to deny this, but the fact is that when people selfishly try to deny it to others, they always claim it for themselves and complain that they are being treated unfairly. This elemental demand for justice and human rights is the giveaway that we intuit something different about the nature of human beings: the fact that we are creatures made in the image and likeness of God.

This primordial recognition of the moral law is called “natural revelation” and is at the root of subsequent supernatural revelation, which begins to take place through the call of Israel as God’s chosen people.

Israel’s expression of this primordial insight about the dignity of the human person comes (as is typical for this ancient people) in imagery that is profoundly liturgical. So we see, for instance, in the creation narrative of Genesis 1, a description of creation that is redolent of the liturgical imagery of Israel. Creation is pictured as the construction of a gigantic temple, just as the Temple in Jerusalem was festooned with decorations to recall Eden.

And just as ancient temples had an image representing their peoples’ god or gods, so the Temple of Creation built by God in Genesis has an image of God as well: man and woman — any man and woman, every man and woman. Everything else in all of creation exists for their sake. Even the very law of God himself is made for man, not man for the Law (Mark 2:27).

Man and woman are placed in the Garden as priest-kings and queens, tasked with tending the garden of creation. (Genesis uses Hebrew words to describe the work of Adam in the garden identical to those used to describe the work of the Levitical priests in the Temple.) Adam and Eve’s primordial task is union, fruitfulness, rule, work and worship — all reflections of the love, creativity, lordship, power and beauty of the God whose image they reflect.

To be sure, sin enters into the picture with the Fall. But sin is, nonetheless, not the most basic fact about us. Sin is always parasitic on the most basic truth: that we remain creatures in the (damaged, but not destroyed) image and likeness of God.

That puts Catholic anthropology at odds with American culture, which comes out of a Calvinist and Puritan ethos — and which, therefore, sees original sin and the Fall, not the image of God, as the most fundamental truths about us. The simplest way to describe the difference is to say that our culture sees virtue as the mask and sin as the horrific face of the person, while Catholic anthropology sees sin as the anonymizing mask and virtue as the true face of the person, made in the image of God and, in Christ, exalted to participate in divine nature.

Because our dignity comes from our created nature — from the kind of creatures we are — and not from what we do, we retain our human dignity despite our sins. And since God is love, his intention for us remains in love, despite whatever sins we commit. And God’s will is always bent on our salvation: a salvation that involves the whole person (body, soul and spirit) and his relationships with every person and with all of the created world.

This brings us to the next leg on the throne of Catholic social teaching: the common good. Of which, more next time.

BY MARK SHEA

From: https://www.pamphletstoinspire.com/

[somewhere-in-the-dungeon]

2019, Aug 16

I love teaching people to fight :) Okay, it was like, an hourlong lesson at most, and it was on boxing which isn’t especially well suited for some things especially this person’s stature, but they had fun and I had fun and they beat up my punching bag a bit and I showed them how not to telegraph so heavily and how to use their leg and hips to punch.

Also I got to run Ars Magica, and I am loving this campaign. We spent the whole time wandering through the school (we’re basically doing AU Hogwarts, and the school is structured as a somewhat more structured geomorph but with weird magical wards and weirdness, and I had a blast. Pretty sure the players loved it too, from the room that gave half of them cat ears (+4 to Perception rolls involving sound!) to the room with no light and a bunch of buzzsaws randomly strewn around.

First-pass session writeup below the cut, because this is long but I didn’t want to leave out clues to how the place works and also because I was just really excited. I should probably boil this down somewhat, since the writeups are supposed to double as summaries for quick catching up and this one. . . is not quick.

(If you do read it and think it sounds fun, we run a session once or twice a month based on a poll I send out after each session, and it’s West Marches as well as Troupe Play, open table!)

Nemed, Alois, Barley, Luthor, Squawk, Glade of the Empty House, Blair and Caoimhe, Bole of Perdo and another Perdo scholar set forth under Eantro's order into the school, to find the lost book- the Perdo Perdo. With no further information, they set forth into the winding unmapped and perhaps unmappable corridors and passageways of Strawgoh. The first out of place room they come to contains a fountain of water spouting into a stone pool, only several inches deep but perhaps three paces across, with coins at the bottom and the words "Keep in mind your heart's desire" written around the base in Latin. Barley tosses a coin in for luck, but nothing appears to happen, so they continue out through the one door up the stairs.

From there they enter a room of stone with torches high on the walls, and the sparks from the torches quickly form out words on the ceiling, spelling out a popular rude drinking tune. Barley sings along with great gusto, and once finished the sparks simply say "Play something new?" Barley obliges with "The Party on the Back of the Wagon," a song that's just as jaunty and just as crude. From there they can take either a door to a marble bridge which goes outside the walls, clearly two stories up from the castle despite no such bridge existing from the outside, before making a U-turn back into the building. At the midpoint, they speak with a talking stone statue of an imp, swapping gossip. Alois tells it that the mayor of town was graverobbing, and it tells them that many people have been dreaming of the pastor naked or of a brilliant multicolored bird.

Beyond that they wind through a long corridor where strange tapping can be heard on the walls, and a frieze of a sprouting seed can be seen as well as numerous doodle like carvings. From here, they face two choices- one room which Alois recognizes, occupied by well crafted leather seats and which inexplicably fills the mouth of whoever enters with the taste of sweet pastries. The other room is like a small entrance hall, full of balls of yarn and clawed furniture and the sound of rats. Squawk determines that the rats are not actually speaking, but are a babble of rat noises. When the party enters to look around, about half of them wind up with cat ears. From the room with the yarn, they find two doors- one leads to a corridor with an infinitely tall pair of walls leading to open sky above, at the end of which they find a room filled to the brim with clear water which does not spill out, a stature of a mermaid embracing a sailor. The water proves deathly cold, and the party retreats back to the parlor. The other door there leads to a library with many books in dead languages. In the library, they find that one book is missing from its spot on the shelf- and also that the others when translated for a page or so are mostly lewd romances.

Beyond the library is a pitch black room which admits no light, but Barley's Lumos reveals its interior. It has many stone blocks rising from the floor to knee height, as well as a few ropes stretched across parts of it and one spot with a small pile of marbles. The party passes through, though one of the Empty House members collects some marbles for use elsewhere. Beyond this is a staircase, rising up and up at least two stories, the last stretch of which is covered in broken eggshells. Squawk determines many of the eggs to be chimeric, mixtures that flow from bird egg to snake egg to fish egg, and the magi in the party in unison groan that this is the work of the Gryphem, possibly the founder himself. This staircase ends with an odd set of double doors- they seem to have no divide, yet one door opens to a small parlor with a number of small items on its counter and shelves as well as a few coins and some empty leather purses, and the other opens to a wide stone auditorium with an onyx archway with a ragged curtain at its centre and the Perdo sigil scratched on the stone beside it.

Investigating the dividing line briefly, Glade of the Empty House rogues and Barley find putting a hand through the middle space to be disconcerting, an electric tingle that grows painful and buffets their hand in turbulence the further they reach into that divided space. After experimenting with this, they find their faces have swapped- Barley looks like the rogue, and the rogue looks like Barley. Investigating the arch, the party determines that it is a magical item with a powerful Perdo effect. Many of the party hear whispers from their departed parents, which urge some of them to come through and others to stay back. Glade produces a dove via magic, which Barley mistakes for a phoenix and Squawk convinces to fly through the archway. The dove falls, dead, and the party decides to move on despite Luthor's conviction that it holds a doorway to somewhere else beyond.

From the auditorium, they have two doors to choose from. One leads to an expansive wood walled and wood floored dance hall which is filled for a moment with phantasmal dancers. Entering the room, they feel an eerie sensation attempt to seize control of their limbs, compelling them to dance to the tune. Barley and Alois dance across together, she making up for much of his lack of polished dancing. Nemed frowns and manages a dispelling aura around himself, walking through, and Blair and Caoimhe dance together through though Caoimhe ends up taking a fall and lightly twisting her wrist. Blair dances back and forth, helping them each along. From there, there is at first a stairway with some carvings in the walls, many depicting circles of wizards and witches, one clearly depicting Luthor's great working on the town of Longwater where he walked their low outer wall. From there they find a stretch of corridor with heptagram tiled floor, which interlinks without a gap the way triangular or hexagonal tile can be laid, but the geometry of which hurts the eye and mind to look at for too long.

Beyond, they find another room of pitch darkness, carved with the Perdo sigil. Inside, they again try Lumos, but this time it does not overpower the darkness, and they cautiously enter. Glade rolls marbles forward and listens to the sound they make, while Nemed follows the wall. Both guide themselves carefully around the obstacles, which this time are whisper-silent rotating blades of jagged metal. They realize the danger only when Nemed finds one reaching out from the wall, and feels his way gingerly up to the edge. Now warned, they make their way through the darkness until they find a door, though they know not if it is the only one. Beyond is a short hallway, ending in a door with the Perdo sigil marked. Here, they find a treasure perhaps worth the journey, though it is not the book they seek- an beautifully designed and supplied lab for Perdo magics, with a black sphere an armspan across at its centre. Brief tests reveal the sphere destroys anything inserted into it, as well as leaving a black spot in the vision of anyone who stares directly at it for too long. (Alois does this, sustaining a large splotch in the centre of his vision.) Two doors are here, one opening to the dining hall which is just finishing dinner, and one carved with the words "The arts called dark really are not good for a person in the end" in Goídelc.

Eantro, being carried from the dining hall, spots them and desperately manages to warn them against going through the door so inscribed. It is left by him for a successor, someday, but will kill anyone unready to face it. He describes it as a place of Perdo, perfect in all forms, and Nemed determines that a piece of wood pushed into the blackness beyond is destroyed utterly. Much of the party returns, trusting from past experience that a laboratory door will stay fixed for some time.

Nemed, Squawk, Luthor and Bole continue on, backtracking a bit to the auditorium to take the other door from there. That door leads to a short passageway with an elaborate chandelier as well as one uncomfortable sigil of an eye with a warped sclera and pupil (C-12) carved into the stone. The passage slopes downward into a small room marked with the sigil of the spreading seed, with flickering torches set on the walls casting unnerving moving shadows on the ceiling, augmented by many cranelations and inserts. Flies buzz here, but they pass through unmolested. From there they enter a winding sandstone staircase that leads up at least two floors, opening on to a storeroom of sorts. It has many burlap bags and a number of flies buzzing above, and a thick coating of white goop. Squawk identifies this as bat guano just before Nemed taste-tests it with his poison detection spell. They climb further up the staircase, arriving at a belltower with a huge bell missing its tongue. They look about them, and suspect the tolling of the bell heard around the school originates from here, though no belltower has ever been spotted from the ground and no bellringer is employed. On the way down, they see a sigil of a bat etched into the steps, and as they cross the passageway they find the eye has disapeared, replaced by an odd inked drawing or painting. (C-7) They too retreat out of the maze of Strawgoh, back to stable, unwarped territory.

[not-all-that-chic]

A Purple Haze

parts  ⟨  prologue  |  yugyeom  |  youngjae  |  jinyoung  |  bambam  |  mark  |  jackson  |  jaebum  |  epilogue  ⟩

wordcount | 5.3k

warnings | master/slave, masochism, thigh-riding, squirting, bondage

rec. track |  ♫ ♩

After I get appropriately dressed with clean undergarments, I sit in the chair in front of his desk. I flip the book to its first page. Already, it's so intriguing. True to his character, the notes written are barely legible, ideas flowing from one section of the page of the other. Scratching my head, I try to decipher everything.

The Land of Wonder started off as nature until the Watchmaker came and created his tower. No one knows how exactly this happened. Then the ruins appeared. Who knows what came first: the Clocktower or the ruins. After the King of Hearts started to rule the north was under his control, but the Watchmaker never join-

I shut the journal, knowing it's useless to continue reading. There is some semblance of coherency, then it becomes lost in the jumbled thoughts. He writes just like he thinks: from one idea to the next. With a sigh, I put the journal back into his drawer, but then my eyes catch sight of something interesting.

It nearly slips out of my hands when I pick it up— from all the dust. I blow on it and then wipe the cover.

Tales of Wonder. Written by the Watchmaker.

This Watchmaker person... he must be important if he is mentioned by the White Rabbit so many times.

"Hopefully I can understand this one," I mumble as I flip it open.

Hello. If you are reading this, you are most likely a Wanderer, sucked through the portal of this land.

My eyes widen; clearly, this person knows a lot. The Watchmaker. Who is he? And then I wonder, am I not the first "wanderer" to come through here?

I go on.

I am the Watchmaker, the first resident of this land. I must inform you that this place is extremely dangerous. Once you have collected three keys, the risk only increases. The sequence of key collection is always the same. You must be cautious; none have collected the seventh key, as the (future) King of Hearts is cruel and evil.

I turn pale. The King of Hearts is the last Guardian.

Since the Duke of White created his kingdom, we have been in a sea of endless turmoil. To add to the fire, the Mad Hatter also included himself in the firefight. You see, for decades now, the northern and southern kingdoms have been fighting for control. Along with the Mad Hatter, we have been split and forced to choose sides, an impending war upon us.

I swallow. How did I remain oblivious of this all this time?

The northern Heart Court, the center Hatter Mansion, and the southern White Court. You must be able to traverse through this land, obtain the seven keys and leave. However, most who arrive here never are able to leave-

I slam the book shut. A cold sweat forms on my back.

"Why did you stop?" Jumping so hard, I fall out of my chair. Jackson is leaning against the desk, finger rubbing down the spine of the book.

"Jackson!" He grins when he hears me.

"Happy to see me? Hm?" His eyes glow an ominous color. This cat, so full of mystery.

"Yes."

"I appreciate your honesty," he purrs, sitting on top of the desk. For a long moment, he stares at me. "What are you waiting for? Come sit, Pet."

"I don't know if I want to read any more of that..." Jackson shakes his head after I sit down. My hands are in my lap as I shift my gaze back to the book.

"As much as it scares you, you must finish it."

"Why can't you explain to me instead?" His tail swings back and forth.

"My explanations are not as clear as Namjoon's."

"Wh-"

"The Watchmaker," he answers me. He points his finger at the book. "Come. Read it."

Nodding, I go back to where I left off.

With conflict like this brewing, there must be a weapon of mass destruction or breaking point. I am unaware of what the kingdoms are planning, but it does not bode well. There is nothing within your power that can stop this. Wanderer. All I can hope is that you can survive to leave this place. That you will not be here for the inevitable demise of the Land of Wonder.

A hand brushes my cheek. I turn to the Cheshire, who is somber.

"Tears do nothing."

"Jackson... Aren't you scared?" He places a hand on my head.

"Of course. However, no one can do anything. The Watchmaker and I can only watch as this place slowly crumbles." My gaze drops to my hands in my lap.

Why must something so terrible happen in a place so beautiful and unique? I thought it would be perfect here. Somewhere for me to have fun and go on.

"Is there nothing that can be done?"

"No. Unless the lost princess returns."

Now that is interesting. As of yet, I haven't seen or heard of any women aside from the Queen of Hearts.

"Who is that?" I tilt my head.

Strangely, the grandfather clock downstairs chimes loudly. Three times it rings.

He seems to mull over telling me until a wicked grin appears on his face again. His eyes still sparkle with sadness, but the ever Cheshire smile remains on his lips.

He hops off the desk and motions for me to get up.

"Perhaps I can tell you another time." Jackson pushes me out of the room and down the stairs until we reach the front door.

"J-Jackson! Hey!"

"Now now. Don't strain your voice yelling at me. I must be going now."

"Where? Where do you go? Why don't you stay?" I nearly stumble down the hill. Jackson only clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

Once again, I'm in the forest.

"I cannot answer that. What's a Cheshire without his secrets?" Just as turn around to give him a good tongue lashing, he's disappeared.

"What in the world! You-you!" I sigh.

Wonderful. I am alone again. And lost again. Well, I suppose being lost is a normalcy in this place. To think I have only collected two keys.

I know that the King of Hearts is the last Guardian. And that makes me chilled to the bone. I have heard only bad things about him. Is he as horrible as everyone says? Even the Watchmaker, who is so wise, believes he is evil.

How can someone villainous be a Guardian?

And a sudden— but enlightening —thought hits me.

Jackson said earlier that he and the Watchmaker must watch as the world crumbles. What does that make Jackson? Where do they stand? How can I possibly go on and enjoy this journey knowing this ever-present danger is looming over me?

The more I learn, the more questions I have. So far, none have been answered. This place is more than the peaceful, fantasy world I originally envisioned.

You will come to learn, nothing is ever perfect, Pet.

The first thing I hear is the melodious voices of who knows what. Everything seems to sparkle after the storm, the water on leaves looking like diamonds. This area of the forest is especially beautiful. Rich, green plants, and tall pines.

This is definitely different from the other forests, which were thick and full of trees. It exudes a welcoming and beautiful aura— if an aura could be described as beautiful, that is.

"And I could finally fly~"

I stop in my tracks. Quietly, I hide behind a tree. A few in front of me, there is a man surrounded by beautiful flowers. Flowers abnormally large, but I'm sure that's nothing out of the ordinary here.

"The rain can't touch us now~"

"Now~"

"Dee Dee deeeee~"

Blinking rapidly, it dawns on me that he isn't the only one singing; the flowers are as well!

I come a bit closer, enraptured by the music and his beauty. He notices me, standing straight up and giving me a most angelic smile.

His hair is a soft, bubblegum pink and he is perhaps one of the most attractive men I have ever seen. His attire is regal: an all-white ensemble with golden accents and golden lapels. Do angels exist in the Land of Wonder?

He bows— and I'm terribly caught off guard, so I stand there like a gaping fish —and I follow with a curtsy.

"Oh. You have manners. Those are difficult to find here. It's a pleasure to meet you. I am called Rose."

After I introduce myself, ever curious, I ask, "Is that your real name?"

"My personal name is Seokjin, but I would appreciate you refer to me as Rose, after all, you are no friend of mine."

Although it is true, it hurts to hear. Everyone thus far has been so friendly, so this is a shock.

"Do not be hurt," he chirps. Smiling again, he grabs my hand and places me on a rock. His arm flairs behind him and the flowers all sparkle to life.

My eyes glimmer with awe, hands clasped together.

"Would you like to hear my newest piece?"

"Yes. That would be nice." Just like that, he turns serious, adjusting his cravat. His hand sparkles and a stick appears within it.

"Huh-hum-" he clears his throat.

"Do not waste time." Another voice appears. When I turn my head, I spot another extremely handsome and regal man. Rose looks at him with contempt.

"Vile creature. You know I dislike your presence."

"Likewise," the man addresses him coldly. He looks to me, eyes regarding me with interest. Who is this man?

"You've anything to say? Or will you stare at my guest?" The newcomer waves him off and comes forward.

I rise from my seat naturally, his simple presence making me want to obey. He looks me up and down, then his eyes spot something hanging from my waist: my keys. His eyes change.

"Follow me." As simple as that, he stuffs his hands into his pockets and moves in the direction from which he came. Looking at Rose, I silently ask if I should. I'm unsure if I should trust him, but what really do I know? Neither of these men seems particularly kind.

Although he is disgusted by the man, he crosses his arms and says, "The parasite never shows interest in anyone. I suggest you do as he asks."

Nodding, I thank him and pick up my dress to follow the other man. He is silent and very slow as he leads me through the tall blades of grass. For a place where everyone is dressed rather antiquated, his all-black suit stands out. The only thing I find odd is his coattails which are so long they drag on the ground.

He suddenly stops and raises his arm high into the air. I begin to wonder why, but he shushes me. A purple orb appears in his hand, bathing the area in a lavender light. And amazing to behold, the grass before us parts. His long legs guide him through as I confusedly stumble after him.

When we enter the secluded area, I have to stop, the sight so breathtaking. We are in a cave of sorts, vines hanging from the ceiling. The sunlight that peaks through is filtered through a purple tarp— that he likely set up —that bathes the area in a rich, violet glow. In the middle, there is a mushroom with a purple satin sheet where he promptly sits.

A pipe of sorts appears in his hand, attached to a long cord and a bong. I've never seen anything like it in my life. And he smokes it, sighing as he does so. I feel confused by it, but say nothing about it.

"Who are you?" He takes a long drag, different colored smoke leaving his lips.

"My name is-"

"Who are you?" I'm taken aback.

"That's what I was about to-" his ears grow red as he leans forward, in my face.

"No. Who. Are. You?" The smoke comes out of his lips and on my face. I cough and ball up my fists. Why did he drag me here? To question me and not let me answer?

"Listen up...you!"

"My name is not you. It is Jinyoung. Learn to respect others."

"Respect! You say respect?!" I come up in his face and he leans forward with just as much fervor. Intimidated, I move back.

"The Caterpillar."

"Caterpillar?"

"I know why you are here." Furrowing my brows, I am now rapt with attention. How is that he doesn't know who I am but knows why I am here?

Then he pulls a key out of his pocket. My eyes widen as I look back up at him. He is suddenly removing his jacket. I blush furiously.

"Let's get on with it, shall we?"

"W-what?" He looks unamused as he stares at me.

"Have you not done this twice already? You should come to expect it. Now," he says as he unbuckles his belt. "Bend over so I can end this quickly."

I somehow feel like a nuisance. All I want to do is leave this place and finish Jackson's game, but I want to do it enjoyably. Is that not what it means to play a game? However, I hike my dress up. Jinyoung's tongue clicks.

"Do you not want to go home?" He voices my thoughts.

"Well, yes, but this is a bit..."

"Detached? Would you like more than just simple coitus?" When he puts it that way, it makes me feel desperate. I feel worthless. My legs shake.

"I don't know..."

"I would like to offer some advice." Jinyoung waits for me to nod. "Your heart is too kind. Do not let yourself be manipulated by the people of this land. Not everyone will be forthcoming with their intentions as I have been." I blink, his statement oddly comforting and wise.

"I will take that to heart. Thank you very much, Jinyoung." The sound of his disrobing stops. I wonder why, so I turn around, but his lips capture mine as soon as I do.

Soft, silky. My mind is invaded by a fog. They feel so plush and warm. My heart speeds up. This is much different from his attitude only seconds before. His arm wraps around my waist, hiking my dress up and placing a hand on my ass. He gives it a light squeeze and I moan into his mouth.

We separate, a thin string of saliva between our lips. Jinyoung's eyes are penetrating mine, looking at me with hunger.

"You are a beautiful girl. I would have loved to have been your first." A long, thin finger trails around my panties, playing with the hem. I gulp. He grabs my hair and pulls my head back before his lips meet my throat. His lips kiss up the column and I shiver, closing my eyes from the pleasure.

He knows what he is doing.

Jinyoung then places a hand over my heat. He does nothing, simply sits it there. The mere insinuation makes my imagination run wild. I moan, begging wordlessly for him to do something. When I begin grinding against his hand, he gets rid of it. Despite my whining, he doesn't relent.

"Strip," he commands. I feel shaken and stirred by his voice, rushing to do exactly as he asked. Once I'm naked, he looks me up and down. It's a bit humiliating to be stared at like an object, but it gives me a thrill I can't place. An all-knowing smirk forms on his perfect lips. His finger motions for me to come closer.

I eagerly place myself on his thigh. My eyes meet his, waiting for whatever he has in store for me next. I'm putty in his hands.

"You're so horny. Well, work for it." He leans back.

"W-what?" The Caterpillar rolls his eyes before he grabs my hips. He pushes me against his thigh, my clit rubbing against the rough fabric of his pants.

"A-ah!" The feeling hurts, but it's so deliciously painful that it becomes pleasure. This direct stimulus on my clit has me shaking.

I quickly understand exactly what he wants. Leaning against him, my fingers clench around his shirt as I press myself on his pants. A weak whine comes from my lips. This isn't enough.

My pace quickens as I grind harder and harder against his pants, but this can only do so much for me. I press onward, searching for my high. More. I need more.

He sighs and rolls his eyes, bored. "So useless. This can't get me hard."

He realizes that I need something else and clenches his thigh muscle. The feeling of his hard muscle on my wet pussy drives me crazy. There's nothing inside me and yet I feel so full. I rut against his thigh faster as he clenches and unclenches his muscle.

My clit is raw from my rubbing, but I can feel myself building, ready to burst. A little pain is nothing for the pleasure bound to come.

"Look how you make a mess."

"Oh, Jinyoung," I drag out his name as I watch the wet spot on his pants grow. It makes me feel like a mess, knowing I’m messing up his nice pants.

He suddenly grabs my hips, stopping me as he glares at me.

"What did I say about respect?" I try grinding again, unsatisfied by him ruining the moment. He keeps a hard— certain to bruise —grip on my hips.

"Call me Master and I'll let you go."

A bright red blush forms on my cheeks. The idea of calling someone that is so embarrassing, but I want to. I really don't understand this commanding effect he has on me. It makes me feel inferior, but I'm somehow turned on further, my pussy sopping wet and eager for him. I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Master... May I please keep grinding on your leg?" It takes a lot to say that, but I'm rewarded by his gentle smile and a peck to the lips.

"Such a good slave. So polite. Go ahead." I shiver. He releases his grip and my clit throbs once I return to my grinding. How do I look, so desperately grinding against his thigh like a bitch in heat while he remains so unaffected? Jinyoung grabs my chin and grazes my bottom lip with his thumb.

Then he slides at in as I moan and lick it. He smirks at this. That face is so damn hot that I feel it in my whole body. The idea of him sticking his cock inside of my mouth instead of his finger fills my head. My clit pulsates and I practically am sliding on his thigh from how wet it has gotten.

"Wouldn't you like to cum all over my pants? Get them dirty with your juices." Moaning so loud, his words egg me on further. If possible, I grind harder. My chest heaves with the labor he's putting me through.

"Oh god!" I feel like I'm about to cum. He knows it. Stars flicker in my vision as a knot forms in my belly. It's painfully close.

"I have something fun planned for you. If you hurry and cum, Master will make you feel even better." That’s my breaking point. With one last grind, my body trembles with the aftershocks of my orgasm. Something strange washes over me as Jinyoung rubs my back. 

I feel whole.

"Did I do well, Master?" I lean against him, breathing hard.

"You did well, Slave. Why don't you go sit down on the mushroom?" Nodding, I obediently go to sit, my legs numb from the powerful orgasm. I nearly topple over.

When I glance over at him, there is a huge bulge in his pants. Well, I'm not the only one that was turned on. I managed to get him hard and it makes me proud.

He stands in front of me and commands, "Take off my clothes. Be a useful slave." Smiling, I reach over and unbutton his shirt easily. His body amazes me.

"Can I touch, Master?"

"Go ahead." My eyes sparkle as I run my hands over his built chest and abs. He's so handsome I feel breathless. I glance down at his pants and lick my lips. That's what makes me most excited. Although his beauty is a bonus.

"Master, can I suck your cock?" Jinyoung is taken aback by this, my expression so seemingly pure, the question sounding so innocent, but the intent nothing but filthy.

For the first time, he groans. It makes me so happy to have pleased him.

"What I would do to shove my cock down your throat."

"Why don't you?" He chuckles.

"Perhaps another time. I promised to make you feel good." My face erupts in a pink blush. I can say with certainty that I have never met someone so selfless. Yes, I realize it is sex, but he is so focused on my wants and needs that he has forgotten his own needs.

He acted so cold at first, but through sex, he has shown a softer side. Fuzziness bubbles in my chest.

"Thank you, Master."

"Turn around." Once I do so, I feel satin wrap around my wrists. It makes me a little nervous, but I'm sure he will treat me well enough. I can't help feeling such innate trust with him.

Jinyoung gently picks me up and places me back toward him.

"Have you done something like this?"

"Never."

"If you say 'Caterpillar', I will stop." I smile again and he returns it.

He lies me down on the mushroom and now I am at his mercy. His soft lips brush against mine. They're wet and mine are already bruised from biting them earlier. Jinyoung's tongue peeks out to rub against the small cut. I moan at the slight burn.

Everything has been an amazing mix of pain and pleasure, push and pull. It's satisfying to all my senses. Jinyoung pulls back and starts a trail of kisses down my chest before he latches onto my nipple. My hands are immobilized, under my body. I so badly want to shove my hands in his hair and bring him closer.

This teasing is making me horny again.

He circles my nipple with his tongue, sucking on it occasionally and releasing it with a pop. Jinyoung presses a kiss to the nipple and moves the other, giving it the same attention. His teeth come out and take the nub between them. It hurts a little, but in the best way.

This man knows exactly what to touch to make me feel good. I could probably cum now if he keeps this up.

His mouth migrates down to my belly. To my shock, he licks my belly button. That strange tickle has me arching into his mouth. He chuckles and god does that make me want him even more. I feel so desperate to touch him and make him feel good, too.

"You're moaning so loud. You're enjoying this a little too much." I hadn't even noticed I was moaning. All I can focus on is Jinyoung and his amazing tongue.

"Oh, Master please touch my pussy!" I can't stop the words from slipping, but as lewd as it is, I can't find a reason to care. We're in our own world and I just want him to make me feel good.

He removes himself from me and I watch as he removes his pants and underwear in one fast swipe. His cock is impressive and I wiggle, already imagining it inside me.

Jinyoung raises his hand and a purple object appears in his hand. It dawns on me as he grabs one in each hand.

My pussy has never been so wet. All these strange things, new feelings. None of these...kinks have ever occurred to me before, but now the idea of them is the only thing I can think of, so excited to try everything he has in mind.

He comes forward and gently attaches the nipple clamps to each of my nipples. It hurts, but I love it and I moan and buck upward, so desperate to get fucked now I probably seem insane.

"Oh, please Master! Please fuck me so hard I can't walk!" Jinyoung smirks and shakes his head.

"As pretty as you are when you talk, I'll need to do something about that."

Before I can ask, his hand materializes a gag. He comes behind me and sits me up, tying the ball gag around my mouth. I moan and lean against his chest, my ass brushing against his hard cock.

His hand reaches forward as his finger barely grazes my pussy lips.

Absolute electricity runs up my spine. My head lands on his shoulder.

"Look at my little slave. That pussy is so wet I could shove my finger in it and it would swallow it up," he whispers in my ear, his breath warm. I clench around nothing and moan, nodding. Saliva gathers around the gag, the image forming in my head getting me hot.

"I'm going to put a blindfold on you. Be good for me."

He gingerly sets it on my eyes and once he ties it around my head, I realize that I'm placing my full trust in him. It makes me nervous but also turns me on. I'm completely at his mercy, ready for him to do what he pleases with my body.

Jinyoung maneuvers me onto my back again. Then he spreads my legs. I feel myself trembling with anticipation. His weight moves around and then I feel something warm against my clit. What is that? His finger? His tongue?

"You smell lovely," he admits as he blows cold air onto my abused clit. It's soothing. I feel his hands reach up, running up and down my inner thighs.

I can practically smell my desire in the air. The feeling of his hands on my thighs is such a banality, but with Jinyoung, everything is more exciting and sexy and turns me on— I can't explain how good it feels.

His hands part my pussy lips open, but he does nothing.

"I can't wait to stick my dick inside." I practically sob, wanting no more than to tell him, "Do it!"

I hear something plastic opening and Jinyoung shuffles above me. A condom. Safety is extremely important and how very Jinyoung of him to have that foresight.

Instead of making me wait, the head of his cock rubs against my entrance and feel myself sag with relief of finally getting what I have been waiting for.

"Nod if you are okay." I do so and he gently shoves his large dick inside. My body arches off the sheets and he chuckles. He waits a few moments for me to adjust until I wiggle, motioning for him to go.

And Jinyoung starts off extremely slow, his thrust deep, but almost teasing. I have an odd feeling he won't be so gentle once we start.

He presses his fingers onto the nipple clamps, the pain shooting through me and I moan so loud it is bordering on a scream. Jinyoung laps at my neck and bites some spots hard enough to leave a mark. An especially deep thrust hits my g-spot— my eyes roll.

I throw my head back, not knowing what to do with all the sensations.

"Look at you. I wish you could see yourself, Slave. You look like so needy. I make you like this, hm?" His cocky tone shoots to abused pussy and he starts picking up his pace, pumping inside me at a merciless pace.

He grunts and I moan and pant along with him, his sounds bringing me closer and closer. With a hand, he sticks two fingers inside me, as if his cock wasn't enough. My heart is beating so fast I feel like it will escape my ribcage. His fingers curl and hit my g spot every time, building my pleasure beyond reason.

I want to use my hands and eyes, see him and feel him, but the uselessness of my situation is, in fact, more exhilarating. Jinyoung makes use of my gag and pushes the ball against my tongue, making me gag on my own saliva.

The same, white-hot feeling creeps up. And I feel it everywhere. From my numb arms to my chest to my legs to my pussy.

Jinyoung leans forward, pressing his chest against mine and groans, his thrusting wild now and I can tell that after all that teasing, he's near his end, too. His fingers move faster inside me, his thumb rubbing my clit as well as his other hand tweaks my nipple while he also sucks hickeys on my neck.

His goal is to destroy me.

And with a few more pumps, I scream from behind my gag and convulse, thrusting upward. The feeling is overwhelming and I feel like I'm nearly passing out from the intense pleasure. Something strange spurts out of my pussy, almost like pee. Jinyoung— after such a show cums with deep, guttural sigh.

He instantly peels the gag and blindfold off me, smiling down at me with pride. His arms keep him upright as he lets his cock go limp inside me. Jinyoung presses a peck on my lips. I sigh.

That was such a journey, not just sexually, but mentally.

"You squirted," he chuckles. Blushing, I close my eyes and look away. He then sits me up to untie my hands.

Jinyoung makes a blanket materialize in his hands as he wraps it around us. It makes me happy, to be treated so well.

"I would like to offer more advice before I give you my key. Once I give it to you, I must send you on your way." He rubs my back as I cuddle deeper into the blanket.

"Hm?"

"The next Guardian you will meet is the Mad Hatter."

Mad Hatter. I have heard that name. He is fighting against the Heart and White Court. But he isn't a king. Not in the traditional sense.

"From this point forward, everyone you meet has an important role in the endless tick of the Land of Wonder. We in the Deep Woods do not play a part in the war."

I gulp and nod. War. Again.

"Thank you, Jinyoung. This is the most help I've gotten." He sighs and shakes his head.

"Typical. Should you have any doubts, it would be a great pleasure to help. You are the first wanderer to be...different."

Then, the moment I have been anticipating: his key. There is a large bow on the key, almost taking up the whole key. The key itself is small, a simple rod with no teeth. From the violet bow, there is a golden chain hanging. At the top, the hole has a triangle shape with three holes.

He gingerly places it on top of my dress.

"You can stay as long as you please. I need to have a long rest."

"Jinyoung, can I ask one more thing?" He hums to show he is listening.

"Can you tell me about the Mad Hatter?"

"The Mad Hatter will be kind to you, but his kindness is for the sake of his pride."

He smiles and using some magic, makes the cave a bit darker. "Now, I suggest you rest before you continue. The Hatter mansion is far from here."

[gigilberry-wips]

20 Facts About Charlotte (and family) That The Readers Will Not Be Given In The Story

So here I am trying to organize my thoughts and do some character building in order to answer some questions about my oc that someone was very nice to ask and which I still need to come up with answers for, carry on with your business don’t mind me

(for those who’re sticking around to read this, a warning: this is long as heck)

1. Charlie was known as that kid who’d always be full of questions and giving the adults a run for their money “Why do crocodiles have big noses?” “Where does the moon go?” “Why don’t humans have claws? Aren’t they more useful than fingernails?” “Why do people sleep?” “Why are we supposed to do this? Why can’t we do that?” “Why can’t we ask questions? How would anyone learn things if they don’t ask questions??”

2. In her family she’s closest to her older brother. She doesn’t always share her concerns with him but when she comes to him with her thoughts and questions she trusts his words.

3. One time she read in a book where a meal of grilled cheese and tomato soup was described so delectably that for one entire month she insisted on having that at least once a day (it’s like what happened with me and when I read about the ‘bread and butterflies’ from “Through The Looking Glass” and now if anyone ever offered me a towering stack of heavily buttered toast with an ocean of horrifically sugary milk tea I swear I will devour the whole thing no hesitation). She stopped being so vocally fussed with them after that but she never really got over it. So if, whenever she might see either one of those two (or both!!) in the wilds, be it in person or on television or if she just catches the smell of it, and if you happen to be looking at her already then you just might catch her making The. Biggest. Heart Eyes. Like the love of her life has appeared before her and she is going to run into their arms and both of them will head off into the sunset.

4. Her favorite things to get on Christmas and her birthday are “fun science projects for kids”, or puzzle and strategy games, or books that had riddles, secret codes, recipes, more experiments, and especially made-up languages in them. She’s filled entire notebooks with the languages that she’s learnt from books, from Morse Code to Tolkien elvish, and she can easily recall many of them from memory. She knows a lot of the most common kinds of numerical puzzles and algorithms that have been used, and partially due to that and partially because of how good she is in math she frequently makes computer related jokes about herself.

5. Charlie’s brother is doing an internship at a nearby aerospace museum and planetarium. He’s currently studying for a degree in astronomy and engineering and works as one of the technicians there, and about once a month Charlie’s family goes to visit and have a picnic nearby and spend the day there. Since it’s so close, her brother is able to go from home and usually drops her and her friends off to school in the mornings in his old, beat-up car because he’s a good brother and he loves his sister.

6. One time when Charlotte was little (about 7-8) she was loaned a textbook from her school about famous people that she had to do her homework from. Her brother caught her scribbling in it with a pencil one time and found out that she was replacing all the pronouns of the historical figures in it (Mr. Miss Alexander Graham Bell, he she invented, Mr. Miss Albert Einstein, he she discovered, etc.).

(She didn’t really have the words for it back then but essentially she was doing this because all of these Oh So Important People Of History(TM) Who Did Oh So Important Things(TM) were different from her and she was very strongly aware of that and it made her really, really angry. She thought that if the only thing anyone was ever going to teach her was White Man History(TM) and that’s the only thing that ever existed since the dawn of time and that’s the only thing she’d ever learn then she wasn’t just gonna sit there and swallow that like the rest of her classmates, thank you.)

The next day he bought her a book about famous women in history from all around the world. She read it cover to cover and has kept that book with her to this very day. It’s got pictures like this in it too :D -

[image description] Three women (left to right: Indian, Japanese, and Syrian) who graduated from the Women’s Medical College of Pennsylvania in 1886

This is also one of the reasons why she likes Star Trek so much, and why she wants to learn so many languages.

[Edit: if anyone’s wondering, her brother’s the one who erased the pencil marks from her textbook. He told her since she’s the one who did it then she should be the one to remove it. But she refused to do it and she did not say sorry either. He knew she’d get in trouble if he told his parents or anyone about it, or if it was left alone, so he sat down with an eraser and methodically went through the book with it himself.

Charlie neither offered to help nor stopped him (she could’ve if she’d wanted to, she had cheeto crumbs on her fingers and she could’ve smeared them in the book or poked her brother with them but she didn’t); she just attached herself to his side and quietly glared because that textbook is Enemy #1 and no one should touch it as his hand patiently went through page after page and removed all traces of her vandalism]

7. Charlie loves her hair. When she was little one of her favorite shows was My Little Pony (don’t tell anyone but she still has a soft spot for it) and she wanted to have bright, colorful hair just like the other ponies did. One of her cousins was very fashion savvy and when she told her this, her cousin showed her all the fun hairstyles she could do with her own hair instead. She’s been growing out her hair ever since. Now Charlie and her brother are Long Hair Siblings(TM). :D

8. On the other hand, Charlie despises make up. When she was little she noticed that almost the only people that were on make up advertisements were white women, so in her head she thought that meant those pretty women owned the make up companies, right? Well, she looked it up and learned that the people who really owned the companies were not those women but instead ugly old men and that was when she came to the conclusion that advertisements are all full of lies and not to be trusted (also she learnt later that silicone rubber is used in making water proof mascara and her brain is forever scarred with that knowledge and now so is yours :DD)

9. When she got her first loose tooth she heard about the tooth fairy and how she takes teeth and leaves money. So her natural course of action was to look up the price of human teeth online. Then she took the case up with her father and told him all about her findings and how the tooth fairy was basically scamming everybody and should not be trusted. He found this entertaining enough that the morning after she lost her tooth she found a 2 dollar bill under her pillow. She kept it away safely and once she had enough “tooth money” she bought a whole set of glitter gel pens with it.

10. The number of times Charlie’s gone to a party can be counted on one hand, and that’s only because she was forced to go. One such house she’s frequented is one of her aunt’s and after all these years the only name she knows from there is the cat’s, whose name is Toast but she thought that was boring so in her head she renamed her as Clementine. She hasn’t told anyone else that she’s never learnt anyone else’s name but she has the feeling her brother knows.

11. She loves cats. She loves them so much. She was always such a solemn and serious little girl but the moment she saw a cat it’s like watching a toddler wandering after a butterfly. Abso-lutely adorable. She has these knitted cat socks and 2 cat plushies (one more worn than the other) and when she was 11 her parents let her and her brother adopt an orange kitten and she got to name it Tigger after one of her favorite childhood characters. In her friend group there are so many cat puns surrounding her. So many. (half of them are her own btw)

12. Charlotte is bisexual. I remember reading somewhere that it’s unrealistic to just have one lgbt kid all by their lonesome in any story worth telling and I agreed with that. I’ve also heard about the “disaster bisexual” troupe. In my cast of characters the one that fits it the most is Josie, so me being myself I flipped that troupe and instead made the most calm and collected one the bisexual kid (so instead of a disaster bisexual(TM) what we have is a distinguished bisexual(TM), thank you and good night). It’s not mentioned in the story because this story is told from Laila’s point of view and Charlie hasn’t told anyone about her sexuality, not her friends, not her family, not anyone. She learnt about it earlier than Laila did (when she was 13), but like it’s said in her intro she’s a very cautious and private person and it’ll take her a long time to think about something so personal openly let alone talk about it with anyone. I want to talk about this more in a separate post, and I’ve got a one shot planned that’ll focus on this too.

(Edit: so it turns out Charlie is in fact a bit of a disaster human and when I told her she comes off as smart and polished and good at judging people’s intentions she turned around and told me she also hisses under her breath at things she doesn’t like, lives in her room like it’s one giant nest, and sometimes forgets to eat and i find it too annoying to argue with my strong willed daughter so here we are goddamn)

13. For Charlie, feelings are ... awkward. They’re messy and confusing, and when she’s feeling too many things she needs a lot of alone time to sort through them and understand them. It’s not that she doesn’t feel anything, it’s just that she can’t usually identify what she feels from the whirlwind in her head in any proper way. And when people need comforting she doesn’t feel like she’s the best person for the job. But that’s not going to stop her from trying to help; if one of her friends comes to her with a problem then she’s going to help them find logical solutions to those problems. She knows her strengths and she tries her best to use them.

14. She finds it hard to cry. Even when she’s feeling too many things and she really wants to cry (because she thinks maybe that’ll help her, at least it’s scientifically proven to help) the tears won’t always come. Aside from early childhood, she can count on one hand the number of times she’s cried, and half of them are from when she was exhausted or shocked with sudden feelings. The other times feel random to her and often at odds with each other. (She can’t force herself to cry, she can’t fake her own emotions.)

15. One of the few times she remembers crying was the first time she saw the Aurora Borealis. She saw it in a movie theater, not in person, but to her it was like seeing the real thing. She was little at the time and when she saw it she was just - she was overwhelmed. She was overwhelmed with so many feelings, like happiness and beauty and wonderment. When they came out of the theater and her family saw her still crying they all started freaking out, until she tried to explain it to them (she was really choked up but she tried). She remembered describing it something like, “It’s like seeing music ... Mama, I think I saw music.” she counts this as the one time she expressed her words so artistically she doesn’t know how but she did. it was also one of those rare times she was envious of artistic people for being able to express human emotions so well (there’s that part in The Tale of Despereaux when he said that he “heard honey” when what he’d really heard was music that comes to my mind). Later, she was told what the lights were called and she decided then and there that if she ever had a daughter then she’d name her Aurora (no papa, not from Sleeping Beauty, this is different!). It was also around this time that she really got into learning about space.

16. Charlie’s a night owl. She loves being awake when all the world is asleep. She loves the silence and the clarity she feels in her thoughts when there is no one else around.

17. Charlotte has an “all things pink and glitter” obsession that she never quite grew out of and never really plans to. Her room is pink, her glasses are pink, her stationary is pink, most of her clothes are pink, and her favorite Care Bear and My Little Pony characters are also pink.

18. She got her glasses when she was around 10, and she even got to choose them herself. :D The sad thing was that she was only one of 2 kids in her grade who had glasses and the other one was who she considered to be an annoying prat, but the good news was that at least 3 girls in her year got braces and one of them was nice and called her glasses pretty and also she was the only one who’d done her braces sparkly so there.

19. Most her life she never had close friends. She was always considered too smart and aloof for them. She had her nose stuck in books and she always got the best grades in her year. She was also really good at chess and strategy games and not to brag but she’s even one a few awards for this and this quality was always something that alarmed and frustrated people to no end (read: boys who wanted to prank her and various arrogant, would-be bullies) when she would know all sorts of things about them that they never remembered telling her. What they didn’t know was that she gathered all that information just from observing them and listening to what they said. She’s a strategist and a planner and she delights in knowing more than everybody else, making it so that when she wasn’t purposefully faded into the background, she came off as intimidating and scary, and rightly so. You cross her or try to pull any nonsense around her and she’ll make you regret it.

20. Contrary to what I feel might be predictable for her, it wasn’t Hailey (the friendly and cheerful one) or Josie (the smart and sociable one) that pulled Charlie into Laila’s friend group, but instead it was Laila herself. Charlie might not be good when it comes to feelings, both hers and other people’s, but she’s an excellent judge of character. She doesn’t talk to her peers because she’s categorized them as not being her “type”. She sees them and thinks they’re silly and petty and loud and annoying. She gets impatient with how childish and flighty and apparently short of memory they are, how they haven’t yet decided what they want with their life, how they’re all sooooo fussed about what other people want them to be and how they haven’t made up their minds about who they want to be. Dealing with them is boring and somehow oddly exhausting, so she doesn’t waste her time with them.

She and Laila met through circumstance. And what she immediately got from Laila was that she was someone who was filled with something akin to gentle warmth. She saw someone who didn’t judge or expect things from her. Someone who didn’t raise her hackles or crowd her space, both physically and mentally. She saw a person who didn’t pretend to be something she wasn’t, who didn’t really have anything to hide. Most of all, she saw in Laila someone who went about her day with honesty and good will in her actions towards others, who was genuine and caring. Those are things she’s not often found in other people, no matter their age. It’s something that she’s come to appreciate and respect in the rare, rare instances when she does find it. It took a while, but as she got to know Laila and her other friends better and hung out with them more often, she saw that she found a place where she felt like she could breathe.

[creaturecompanion07]

10 Common Types of Cory Catfish

Cory Catfish, also known in the hobby as Cory Cats, Cory Fish, and Corydoras Catfish, are very popular freshwater fish. It is a passive novice fish with a great deal of character. Corydoras are the most popular community fish because they’re so happy-go-lucky, easy to breed, and helpful as a clean-up crew. Cory Catfish are often described as armored catfish, due to their plates of bone-like material running the length of their bodies. Their cheerful demeanor and sympathetic habit of regularly cleaning bottom of the tank makes them a perfect addition to any community aquarium.

This genus of South American catfish includes more than 160 species, with several hundred more that are waiting to be classified. With so many other species of Corydoras out there, though, choosing the right one could seem awe-inspiring. Here we take a closer look at ten of the finest Cory species…

1. Sterbaicory (Corydorassterbai)

This is a striking cory, and a large school in a large planted tank makes a magnificent display. It has been popular since it was introduced. Lone specimens are sad shadows of healthy individuals kept in groups, and the comical antics of a school of Cory cats can entertain for hours. The most striking feature of this species is the bright gold colour on pectoral spines, highlighting this beautiful fish with a warm glow. These fish are most active at night, so feeding once before lights out is typically enough. Though they can easily be persuaded to feed during the day. Since they are slower eaters, they should be allowed at least 30 minutes to consume their food.

Maximum Size: 2.7 inches

Temperature Range: 70–77°F

pH Range: 5.8–8.0

Level of Care: Easy

Tankmates: Similar-sized fish, peaceful species.

2. Peppered Cory (Corydoraspaleatus)

Peppered Corys are perhaps the most commonly kept from the family. An undisputed top choice of many, they are extremely tough and simple to really care for – ideal for first-time fish-keepers. Their curious, considerate nature quickly makes them charming fish.

This Cory species is also one of the easiest to breed in captivity – making them a good choice for the breeding fanatics too. They are fairly easy to sex owing to their minor difference in size – males only reach a maximum of 2.5 inches long, whereas females can often reach 3 inches. Feeding of live foods such as blood worms can help encourage engagement, but preferably, a dedicated breeding tank is suggested for the maximum success rate in raising their offspring.

Maximum Size – Males 2.5 inches, Females 3 inches

Temperature range: 72–78°F

pH range: 6.0–7.0

Level of Care: Easy

Tankmates: Other easy-going, community species

3. Bronze Cory (Corydorasaeneus)

Also, known in the hobby as Green Corydoras, the Bronze Corydoras has shimmering bright green rims on its otherwise pinkish body. An even-tempered catfish, they will blossom in any well-kept aquarium of a 20 Gallon capacity or more, as long as they have tankmates of their kind. An appealing and engaging peculiarity about all Corydoras is their comical habit of ‘blinking.’ The actual fact is that they are merely turning their eyes towards the bottom of the tank and then swiftly back up again. This is specifically apparent in this species, as their basic markings make their eyes more noticeable than some of the other Corys.

Maximum Size: 3 inches

Temperature range: 72–80 °F

pH range: 5.5–7.5

Level of Care: Easy

Tankmates: Peaceful, community species

4. Emerald Green Cory (Corydorassplendens)

This species has only of late been reclassified as a true Corydora and is just known as the ‘Emerald Catfish.’ It is the leading member of the genus that is easily available in any local aquarium store. It is a gentle giant, nevertheless, will get along with most other schooling species, including other Corys. Like any other Corydoras members, it will endure with most of the substrates, including regular aquarium gravel. Their real favourite, though, is aquarium sand as it matches the slow-moving tributaries and river bed situations from where they originate in South America. With a moderate level of care and with a good tank space, this catfish can live up to 12–13 years. Undoubtedly, one of the longest-lived members of the genus!

Maximum Size: 3.5 inches

Temperature Range: 68–82°F

pH Range: 5.8–8.0

Level of Care: Easy

Tankmates: Any reasonably friendly companions

5. Bandit Cory (Corydorasmetae)

Bandit Corys have a distinct magnetism of their own. With that enigmatic black stripe across their eyes, they have earned for themselves this demonstrative name that is certainly nothing to do with their temperament! They are likewise as tranquil and placid as the other members of their genus. An additional black stripe runs all the way from their tail base to their very prominent dorsal fin, giving a somewhat illustrious look. This is a minor member of the genus, and they also need marginally more specific temperature and pH requirements compared with some other species, making them less suitable for a beginner.Here You will get latest updates on the Cory catfish types

Maximum Size: 2 inches

Temperature Range: 72–79°F

pH: 6.5–7.0

Level of Care: Easy – Intermediate

Tankmates: Other smaller, peaceful schooling fish

6. Pygmy Cory (Corydoraspygmaeus)

This distinctive species of Corydoras is the smallest of the subfamily. Being just 1-inch long at maturity, they make a fantastic choice if someone is looking for a school of catfish in a small aquarium. Even a 50-litre tank is good enough to house 6 of these, so long as the aquarium has an adequate surface area. It is vital on the other hand that they are kept only with other peaceful species. Boisterous tankmates, with a probing habit of inhabiting mid-water may make them susceptible to other inhabitants of that layer.

Maximum Size: 1.3 inches

Temperature Range: 70–78°F

pH: 6.5–7.5

Level of Care: Intermediate

Tankmates: Be sure to accommodate only the peaceful ones.

7. Panda Cory (Corydoras panda)

As the most handsome member of the family, this cory variety is gracefully bejewelled with black patches around their eyes, which has gained them their popular name. This catfish requires somewhat more skill from the fishkeeper as they prefer a softly lit environment and a cautiously designed out bottom. Abundant of hiding places and preferably some thick vegetation will safeguard this shy catfish and make it feel safe and at ease. It is friendly with its kind and also seems to appreciate the close company of clown loaches. To keep them in the finest state of health, regular servings of bloodworm or brine shrimp will help keep them looking at their greatest.

Maximum Size: 2.5 inches

Temperature Range: 68–79°F

pH: 5.8–7.0

Level of Care: Intermediate

Tankmates: Other gentle schooling species

8. Three Stripe Cory (Corydorastrilineatus)

Often mislabelled in shops as Julii Cory, this kind of cory is far more commonly available than Julii Cory. The true Julii has more distinctive spots whereas the Three Stripe Cory has constant, twisty markings, with three stripes. It is a very beautiful catfish on its own and certainly deserves eclectic praise. This is another very under-demanding Cory variety, which simply needs basic minimum level of care. But in return, the tank’s substrate will remain to the optimum clean level as these play an important role as living vacuum cleaners in a community aquarium.

Maximum Size: 2.5 inches

Temperature Range: 72–78 °F

pH: 5.8–7.2

Level of Care: Easy

Tankmates: Other peaceful community species.

9. Skunk Cory (Corydorasarcuatus)

The Skunk Cory Cat adds a splash of drama to any home aquarium. Also known as Sands’ Cory Cat, Corydorasarcuatus is active, yet peaceful, especially when kept in small schools. Though other members of the Corydoras genus boast black stripes over their eyes and down the back, the back stripe of this Skunk Cory Cat splits just before the tail and trails down to colour the lower edge of the caudal fin. An uncommon behavioural trait of this species, as with other Corys, is their sporadic impromptu dash to water’s surface to gulp air. This evolutionary reworking helps to survive in stationary waters during periods of little rain in their natural habitat. This is normal and should be of no cause for concern about the water quality.

Maximum Size: 2 inches

Temperature Range: 72–79°F

pH Range: 6.8–7.5

Level of Care: Easy

Tankmates: Other peaceful community species.

10. Albino Cory (Corydoraspaleatus)

Albino Cory Catfish is sometimes called the Armored Catfish as it’s armoured as an alternative of scaled, nevertheless, it isn’t the true problematic Armored Catfish. The Albino Cory catfish has a white-coloured physique that may vary in tone and pink to gentle crimson eyes. It is a classic scavenger and will inhabit and feed on the aquarium floor, which should be comprised of sand or smooth gravel. Very coarse substrate can damage its delicate barbels and underbelly. The Albino Cory is a superb addition to a freshwater group aquarium. They don’t develop very massive so they could be put in a smaller tank with ease. Albino Cory is very full of life and is pleasant, which makes them attention-grabbing to observe.

Maximum Size: 2 inches

Temperature Range: 70–75°F

pH Range: 5.5–7.2

Level of Care: Easy

Tankmates: Other peaceful community species.

In their natural background of shallow South American river margins, streams, and ponds, many different members of the Corydoras family group together quite happily, and all of the members mentioned here will do the same in a community aquarium without any problems. The Golden Rule is to always accommodate a minimum of six of any one species of Cory in the aquarium.

Whichever Cory from the wide variety of corydoras you choose, you will not make a mistake. They are hardy, interesting, and – above everything else – easy to keep. These feats are among the main reasons these species are so popular, both with novice and experienced aquarists.

[houseofvans]

ART SCHOOL | Q&A with Martin Ontiveros (PDX)

The art wizardry of Portland based Martin Ontiveros has appeared in various galleries, albums, posters and has even been transformed into diabolical toys and figurines. Ontiveros’s graphic ink and brush style is meticulous and bold, transforming his horned and demonic creations into fun and bad-ass pop occultism. We’re excited to chat with this ink sorcerer in our latest Art School where we talk about technique, studio days, and what is coming up for him the rest of this year. 

Photographs courtesy of the artist.

Introduce yourself?   Hello, I’m Martin Ontiveros, also known as Martinheadrocks, illustrator and wizard. “Marty” to my closest friends and family. I live in Portland Oregon, I’m left-handed/ambidexterous and I have a large ginger cat/familiar named Zeus. Nice to meet you.

How do you describe your art to folks who have never seen it before? Pop-occultism? Creature Chic? What you might find inside an ancient tomb or temple from a previously unknown civilization.

Who were some of your early artistic influences that really inspired you to draw? It started with Star Wars in 1977, and Mad Magazine, especially the work of Jack Davis. Childrens book art by Jim Flora. Books and movies about UFOs, cryptids, phenomena, ghosts and black magic when I was a kid. Later it was Heavy Metal Magazine and the underground artists of the 60s and 70s, S. Clay Wilson, Greg Irons, Spain, etc. 80’s punk and metal pioneer artists like Mad Mark Rude and Pushead. Derek Riggs and his Iron Maiden covers. 

Lots of rock album art. Fantasy/conceptual artists like Mike Ploog, Boris Vallejo, Frazetta, Richard Corben. That was all the stuff that built up the desire, but what really got me drawing were the indie comics of the 80s with people like Marc Hansen, Matt Wagner, the Pander Bros, David Boswell, Dori Seda, Mary Fleener. I really really wanted to make comics by the time I was 17-18. I’ve since discovered it’s not for me. Art of the Ancient World, Mesopotamian and Mesoamerican in particular. There’s more to this list, I’m an old man now and have seen a lot, but we don’t have all day.

What’s a day like in the studio for you? And take us through your artist process –from start to finish on a piece. I used to start work when it was already well into the evening and would go until after the dawn, but in the last couple years I’ve reversed that schedule. Now I usually get up around 4am. I still get the benefits of nocturnal studio time that way, at least until the sun is up—no one bothers me and it’s quiet. I’ve become a Daywalker—I have all of the vamipre’s strengths and none of the weaknesses.

 A typical day is trying to stay focused while fending off my own distractions (I’m ADD) and steering around having to leave the house for anything, ha. I always start with a bit of doodling to warm up a little, then jot down a thumbnail sketch of whatever’s on the agenda that day—usually very small and rough, just to set the composition and borders. 

Sometimes I’ll spend extra time fleshing out details on certain aspects of the drawing, say a helmet or insignia. Then I’ll figure out my dimensions and either draw to size or use my trusty proportion wheel to do it smaller if need be. Next is the hard pencil stage. I like using 2H or 3H lead which is rough on the paper but much less messy than a soft lead. I don’t work with a loose outline, I need a solid and tight map to work from and when I have it on lock, I’ll transfer it to my final surface. 

That method goes for both a black and white ink piece or a painting. I’ll warm the brush up by laying our some strokes on scrap paper and when I feel like I got a grip on it, off I go. If it’s a painting, I lay all the color and shading out first, then put down the linework. And even if my pencils were tight, there’s always room for improvisation, a tweak or two, especially when I’m inking—some happy accidents come up now and then. I should mention that I sometimes have to chuck a drawing and start the process all over again, even if it’s close to completion because if it isn’t working, screw it. It seems wasteful and time consuming and I could probably avoid it by going digital, but I choose to do it old school.

What’s your tool of the trade medium-wise? And is there a new medium you’re looking to try in 2018? I swear by my brush and ink. Nothing gives me more satisfaction. The artists I’ve always admired most are handy with a brush line. Not to say I don’t like pens, it’s just that I’m not as steady using one and leave them for doodling. I love papier mache, it’s not a new medium to me, but I’ve yet to know how to make the time to do it more so let’s say that that is my goal for 2018. If there was any other medium that I’d choose to do over drawing, it would be that.

You’ve worked on many collaborations with bands and created some awesome cover art and posters. What has been your favorite collaboration and what would be a dream collaboration be? Oooh. That’s a toughy. I did a tour shirt for Mastodon this past year and I have to say that was likely the pinnacle so far. When I caught their show later, it was thrilling to see people buying it at the merch table and to know there’s maybe hundreds more out there wearing it. Dream collaboration…probably the Melvins. Or Alice Cooper? But with the Melvins I know I could just probably do me and not worry about whether or not I’m a good fit. I’m not what you would call “conventional”.

What are you listening to when you’re painting your various creatures and demons? Give us five bands you’re checking out at the moment. I listen to music when I sketch/conceptualize and switch to podcasts or play a favorite movie or show when I’m really into the process, it’s comforting to hear people talk during the heavy work for some reason. It’s another long list but some of my go-to bands are High On Fire, Sleep, Windhand, Black Cobra and Slayer. That’s if I want it crushing. If I’m doing something trippier, it’ll be Om, Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, Dead Meadow, that kind of thing. Podcasts are generally true crime or comedy.

What’s been the hardest challenge being an artist? What do you tell folks who want to travel down a similar path? I don’t recall the artist’s name who said it, but to paraphrase, the quote was that art can often be a dark and lonely pursuit for us. I believe he was referring more to the fact that we spend a lot of our time working in solitude which is inherent, yet it can also weigh you down emotionally. That really speaks to me, even more so because I’ve also wrestled with depression for most of my life. 

Your work can be so entwined with your sense of self-worth, so I suppose the hardest challenge for me is to not let my heart sink when something I make doesn’t receive the attention I hope to get for it. People can be fickle though. I try to remember that, and move on to the next thing. With that in mind I guess I tell folks to make sure they get out of their lairs when possible and share their frustrations with other artist friends, foster a support group of sorts because it helps to know you aren’t alone out there with all these feelings. That and maintain a regular paying job when they start out, because man…it can be tough making a living at it.

In another dimension, what would you be if you weren’t an artist? I’d be that weird old sorcerer living somewhere in the woods that the villagers speak of in whispers. Benevolent, but not to be trifled with. So, not too much different from what I am in this dimension, just with blue skin, maybe.

What are your favorite Vans?  Chukka Low? Old Skool? Era? (I had to look up the actual names). Basically low padded ankle with laces, and always dark colors with a black toe because I don’t like my vision being drawn down to my feet moving under me. I honestly don’t wear any other brand of kicks. I keep a pair of Slip-Ons for doing things around the house. Vans makes good jeans too.

What’s the art scene like in your part of the woods? What do you like the most about where you’re living these days? The scene that I know here is primarily illustration, at least that’s what I keep my eyes out for. Lots of sweet, supportive people without attitude and many that are good friends. There aren’t as many galleries as there used to be but there are other venues to get your work out there. I’m now in a part of SE that I’ve never lived in before, at the edge of being outside of Portland proper but only just so. It’s mellow and quiet here and most things I need are within walking distance. I got a couple stores, a good Mexican food place, a bar, you get my drift. I do wish some of my besties lived closer by though. And a decent art supply store.

Since this feature is called Art School, can you give us your most helpful art tip? This probably won’t make me popular by saying it, but learn the difference between homage and theft. Yes, it’s fun to pay tribute to an artist’s style or someone else’s pop culture/intellectual property now and then, I’ve done it, we’ve all done it, not shaming that…but the difference is, if ALL you’re doing is copying, it comes off as creatively lazy. I don’t care how many followers you may gain from it. Come on. If you’re skilled enough to copy someone else’s shit, you’re skilled enough to make up your own content. Raise the bar, people. Don’t lower it.

What’s on the horizon for 2018? New merch in my shop, a group show in Mexico City, more band stuff, my first trip to NY ever, toy releases, designs and customs, a collaboration or two, hopefully a couple of conventions later in the warm months. I’d like get back into painting on a larger scale and figure out how to take it slower in general, make my work really level up, you know? There’s always room for improvement!  

Follow Martin | Website | Instagram | 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #262

WoW will probably start to take over my life again tomorrow oof so expect surveys to slow down some.

What do you wish people wouldn't call you? The only one I don't really like is Girt calling me "kid." He doesn't mean it in a derogatory way or anything like that; he's just always called me that since I was a high school freshman and he was a senior. Now as an adult that's been through things I don't believe anyone deserves, it's kinda weird but more so frustrating as, regardless of his intentions, I somewhat feel belittled. I've never said anything directly about my discomfort, though, so it's my own fault. I just don't want to make him feel bad for doing it for years lmao. What do people say about your name upon learning it for the first time? They don't say anything; my name is very ordinary. Why did you choose the hair length you have? I have a few reasons. The biggest is because I was just bored of average, long hair, and the fact I was at the time having a very hard time with self-care. My hair would get incredibly knotted to where it was hard to even brush it sometimes. Makes me shiver thinking back on it. For my own sanity and ease, it needed to be gone. Also, with how STUPID hot I get, cutting it all off helped with the weight of my hair (it's v thick) but more importantly how hot it made me it the warm months. Zero regrets chopping it all off, omg. If your hair could be ANY color, what would you pick? At this very moment, I really want silver hair. Do you wish your hair was longer or shorter than it is now? It needs a trim. Do you think you're attractive? (It's okay to say yes =P) No; I think I wouldn't look ALL to bad if I lost some more weight (I've literally been on a weight loss plateau for two fuckin years). When I was perfectly healthy, I didn't think I was very pretty even back then, but now that I look back, I feel I was decently pretty. Not gorgeous, but. What is your favorite band? Ozzy Osbourne. :') What is your favorite movie? The Lion King. The second one is like directly behind it. Finding Nemo is also very precious to me. What is your favorite book or magazine? The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton and Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. What is your favorite song? Ugh, this is impossible. I love way way too many. I suppose maybe... "Death Inc." by Motionless In White? Idk. What is your favorite color to wear? Black, duh. If you could visit anywhere in the world, where would you go and why? South Africa because I want to spend time with and take pictures at the Kalahari Meerkat Project and especially pet a Whiskers meerkat. I WILL cry. Meerkats literally changed my life. So many people I wouldn't know... If you got the chance and wouldn't get caught, would you cheat on a lover? NOOOOO the guilt though. Someone drops a fifty dollar bill and doesn't notice. Will you tell them? Definitely. I'd feel awful otherwise. Would you ever pierce something on your face? I already have my lip and tongue pierced, and I did have my nostril pierced, too. I want more, particularly an undereye microdermal if I can switch to contacts... which I don't like. I think it'd look pretty dumb with glasses. Are you selfish? EVERYONE should be to a degree depending on the occasion. Doing what is best for you is not a bad thing. Are you mean to people who are different from you? Wow no. I find people "different" from me interesting. Do you make fun of obese people? By the BMI definition, I am one of those people. So take a guess? Do you eat when you're upset? I have to fight that extremely hard, because I usually do experience the impulse to comfort eat when I'm very depressed. I've gotten way better at it, though. What if you had to choose between feeding yourself or feeding your pets? I honestly don't know for sure what I'd do... but I think I would prioritize my pets, honestly. It would break me to watch them suffer and lose weight. What if you saw someone being beaten on the street? YOOOO I READ THIS AS "EATEN" FIRST. But anyway I'd call the cops ASAP. There's a possibility I'd intervene if I felt myself capable of taking on the assailant. What if it was you being beaten? According to the night terrors I've had beyond count, curse like a motherfucker and fight back while calling for help. Who's the most important person to you (related)? Mom. Who's the most important person to you (non-related)? Sara. What's more important to you, happiness or success? Happiness. What's more important to you, your happiness or someone else's? Depends on the person. List the ten most important things to you: Oh, yikes. No order: 1.) My peace of mind, health, and happiness; 2.) my family; 3.) my pets; 4.) my career future; 5.) my friends; 6.) a YouTuber I've never met lmao; 7.) my pebble from my partial hospitalization program; 8.) Teddy's ashes; 9.) the Mark mug Sara gave me sobs; 10.) and the RP site I'm on. Like if it disappeared tomorrow with all the profiles and history and stuff I would break the earth in half oof. Have you ever lived in a mobile home? No. Have you ever had your bedroom in a basement? No. How many times in the past week have you eaten fast food? Hm. I don't think once. In the house - shoes, socks, slippers or bare feet? Bare feet.\ Do you consider dogs inside or outside pets? Usually indoor, depending on the breed and the time of year. What’s your favourite piece of furniture in your house? ig my bed? Have you ever had a crush on a friend’s parent? Yikes no. Do you prefer carbonated or uncarbonated drinks? Sucker for carbonated over here. Favorite thing that you can see up in the sky? A full moon. Would you rather eat at the table or in your room? I'm so used to eating in my room. Do you like the sound of birds singing when you wake up, or is it annoying? I love it. If someone gave you a kitten, would you keep it? I'd love to, but it'd really be my mom's choice. What’s your ideal activity for a rainy day? Nap oh lawd. Favorite type of cracker? Cheez-Its. Banana sandwich... yum or yuck? Only yum with peanut butter. Animal you like to watch but sort of creeps you out: Spiders. Bagels or English Muffins? Bagels. Do you like to daydream about sex? I do it sometimes. Which of your parents do you laugh more with? My dad is really funny. Have you ever been to an open casket wake or funeral? Wake, yes. Who mows the lawn at your house? A family friend. Have you ever written a story from beginning to end? When I was little and was writing that meerkat story, yes. I started on the sequel but didn't get far. What’s a big turn on for you? Being genuinely interested in what makes me me. Actually wanting to know the littlest things about me. Just show sincere interest. Are you doing anything tomorrow? I do know I'm fuckin finally getting my laptop home. Does your car have a name? N/A Do you own clothes from any celebrity clothing lines? No, but a bitch is getting a Cloak shirt or hoodie at some point. Who was the last person you ranted about? My bitch of a cousin for being a disrespectful fuck when all my dying grandmother wants is to talk as a group with the whole family. I ranted to Mom though, not in the group chat because I'm actually mature enough to not talk shit when, again, all our grandma wants is peace and love between us at the end of her life. I was SEETHING. Know any magic tricks? I don't remember any. I LOOOOOVED those magic kits as a kid, though. Is there music in your head right now? Right now "Dirty Pretty" by In This Moment is on, so does that count as "in my head?" Would you like to become a dancer? It'd be very cool, most certainly, and due to taking dance classes so long, I tend to think of potential dances in my head when I hear like... any song, lol. I'd love to be one if I had the grace and endurance + no hyperhydrosis. Name one person of the same sex as you you wouldn't mind doing: Hunny I'm bisexual, there's a lot, lmao. Dream woman? Uhhhh. Maybe my friend Alon. She was like one of my first hints I wasn't straight, lmao. But idk, I find soooo many women to be attractive. What is the most gory film you've seen? One of the Saw movies. What a surprise, ik. Ever fallen down a hole? ZOINKS no. Do you work better in a clean or messy environment? Clean, durr. Do you know any vegans? Only online. Do you like bananas? I am VERY picky with bananas. They have to be perfect. My preferred ripeness lasts only like, two days. .-. What's a film you've seen that confused you? Oh boy, idk. I don't watch many films... especially if I'm confused and the plot isn't great, I'll stop watching. WAIT!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!! I went to see Warcraft when it came out and I was so fuckin lost just because the orcs' voices are so goddamn deep that I just sat there like "uhhhh sir come again????" I didn't play Classic, and I'm not great at remembering every aspect of the plot, so. I'm to this day p confused lmao. Do you ever wear black lipstick? I really only ever wear black. What is next to your bed? I have a white shelf to my left where I put my meds, a drink, the fan... that kind of stuff. My cat's food bowl is to the right of it on the floor. Are your fingernails dirty? Nope. Have you ever fell for someone believing you could "fix" them? Not for that reason, no. Describe a picture of yourself that you hate: LASKJDLKFJAOWJE my friend took a picture of me eating a hot dog once and joked she was putting that shit on Facebook and it was funny as shit but thank Christ she was in fact joking. Would you rather play a good or an evil character in a play? While I'd love to be the evil one, I'd probably make it too cheesy because I am a BAD actress. Has anybody ever lied to you just to impress you? Story of one of my "best" friendships. What's your favourite shade of blue? Baby blue, probs. Can you remember a world before iPods? I do indeed. On rides to school when I sat in the back, I would bring one of those portable CD players with me to play discs. Where did you go on your last date? I can't remember the place's name... Lume's? Something like that? Breakfast place in Illinois. Do people find you "cute"? It happens sometimes. Who does the best remixes? Oh idk, I don't pay much attention to this. Where do you get your news? Facebook, lmao. What social stigma does society need to get over? What DOESN'T it need to get over???? What was the last photo you took? Probably something funny on Facebook to send to Sara lmao. I will get memes to her some way. What mythical creature do you wish actually existed? As badly as I want to say dragons, I don't think it'd be a great idea, heh... Maybe dryads. What are you interested in that most people aren't? As of recently, TARANTULAS. I've fallen in LOVE with them. What's the most ridiculous thing you have bought? No clue. What sounds hit you with major nostalgia every time you hear them? The gem collecting sound from Spyro. It was my text ringtone on my last phone! I need to move it over to my current one. What was the biggest realization you have had about yourself? I was possibly the bigger villain than Jason in the breakup. But idk. What topic could you spend forever talking about? Gay rights. Which way should toilet paper hang, over or under? In the original patent, it was designed as going over. GMM knowledge. Therefore I find over as correct, BUT I ultimately don't care like... at all. I don't even really notice when I go in the bathroom. Are you usually early or late? Usually slightly early. What do you wish you knew more about? Politics so I could be a more helpful member of society alksdjfka;lw What is the most annoying question you've been asked? It's not really like, annoying I guess, but the closest would be just how frequently people see my lip ring and ask if it hurt. It's incredibly sensitive skin, and even if it wasn't, a needle went all the way through it. Like... guess. News flash: being stabbed hurts, lmao. Like I always explain that it's not awful, but duh, there is pain. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? Yummm chocolate. What was the worst phase in your life? 2020 thinks it's a bad guy, but lemme tell ya, shit's got nothing on 2016. Do you like sprinkles on your ice cream? I hate sprinkles on anything. Just an annoying texture with negligible flavor. The last time you went out to eat - what did you order? It was just a milkshake. Do you have all 32 teeth? I'm missing two wisdom teeth that just never grew in. Do you know how to do the moon walk? Never tried. What is one of your favorite comedy movies? White Chicks. Has anybody ever told you that you have a good singing voice? Yeah. I don't think I do. Onion rings or french fries? Fries. Not an onion ring fan. Who is the best cook that you know? Sara's mom is great, omgggg. She's cooked things I generally don't like yet I wound up enjoying. Can you name 3 different dinosaurs? Let's see: Spinosaurus, stegosaurus, velociraptor. I was a dino kid, man, just gettin' started. *finger guns* What's the largest amount that you can juggle at one time? I can’t juggle. What was your favorite thing to go on at the playground as a kid? I'd daaaash for the swingset. Do you know how much you weighed at birth? How much? Ummm I think 6-something pounds? 7? Where do you spend most of your time at? At home. In my bed. Exciting stuff, y'know. What noise does your favorite animal make? If my memory serves me right, they have over 40 vocalizations, but I'd say barking and chirping are the most ordinary/basic. Have you ever fallen in the toilet when you were little? lol I don't think so. What is the best kind of mac & cheese? I'm a basic-ass Velveeta bitch lmao. Who is your favorite oldies band? Boy oh BOY, you're asking a classic rock/metal addict. Of course it's Ozzy tho. But I love soooo many!! What is your favorite farm animal? Pigs! Do you like to play Monopoly? I'm not a big fan, no. What is the most fun restaurant you have ever been to? I like the vibe of Buffalo Wild Wings. Or I just have good memories there. What size bra do you wear? I'm actually not sure. I haven't bought new ones in a while and I don't think the ones I currently have are the right size anyway. Do you have a ceiling fan in your room? No. Who was your favorite Sesame Street character? I don't remember too well, but I think Cookie Monster? What about Muppet? Idr. What was going through your mind during the presidential campaign? I am sadly paying no attention. What do you think of the Duggar family ( 17+ kids )? Could you handle taking care of that many children? Ew, hell no. I don't believe the number of children warranted in a family should be legally monitored, it's much more difficult than that, BUT RATHER I'm very firm about knowing when it's more than enough. Population control is a thing. NOBODY needs that many kids imo, not even close to that. So far, what is the number one, best decision you have ever made? How has it affected your life? Letting go of Jason/accepting life without him. It has made my life much, much brighter and healthier. Have you reunited with any old friends recently? Was it awkward, or just like old times? No. When was the last time you talked to your first ex? February of 2017. Wow... been a long time. How different is your online personality from your offline personality? I am MUCH more outgoing and talkative online. What are your favorite holiday-themed movies? Jim Carrey's How The Grinch Stole Christmas, Hocus Pocus, The Nightmare Before Christmas, etc... Do you listen to Christmas/winter-themed music when the season comes around? No. Is there anything that you do that’s potentially controversial? Yes. What is your most recent obsession? Most recent, whew, tarantulas. I'm really gonna try talking Mom into letting me get one when/if we move. Do you say “merry Christmas” or “happy holidays”? To you, does it really matter which one is said/you say? Do you do your best to remain politically correct? Instinctually, I say "merry Christmas;" that's what has always been said around me. I personally see zero problem in calling it whatever... Like just appreciate someone wishing you well. You get the concept, and that's all you really need imo. As for political correctness, I'm kinda... down the middle? Like I feel it's been taken way, way too far, but I see some caution in wording as wise. If you could relive one week of your life, which would it be, and why? Would you do anything differently, or keep it all the same? Ugh, my first visit at Sara's. I just loved it so, so much. I think I wouldn't change a thing. It felt perfect. Is there a part of your life you wish you could remember, but can’t? Sometimes when I take these surveys and they ask "how old were you when...", ha ha. Frustrates me. What was the last thing/event to trigger a painful memory? It was last night, actually. The Final Fantasy VII remake is out, and I started watching a YouTuber I like play it. Jason got me to play the original, playing it a lot when we spent time together, but I only got a bit beyond half-way through before my PS3 broke. Cherished memories, so it was decently triggering indeed. I loved the game though and ABSOLUTELY want to see it played out in its entirety, so I shoved past the pain and am glad I did. Now I'm anxiously awaiting the next video aljkdsjfawe Y'ALL I wanna play more FF. What do you think of people that choose not to vote? I can't say anything, seeing as I never have voted before... Are you keeping anything from the people you love? Nothing important, no. Have you ever written a suicide note, whether joking or not? Yes, and that stupid novel is one of my biggest regrets. Who the FUCK would joke about that, though. When was the last time you let something ‘go to your head’? Not even like an hour ago. This happens allllll the time. When are you most likely to show off? Maaan Guitar Hero used to be good for that shit, ha ha. I was an expert at that back in its day. I haven't played it in forever, and on the rare occasion I do, I am suuuper rusty. Which would you prefer: spectacular view of the ocean, or of the mountains? MOUNTAINS!!!!!! Do you follow any dating rules/play any dating games? No. When was the last time you felt extremely confident about something? ME????????? CONFIDENT???????????? WHAT A CONCEPT!!!!!!!!!! When was the last time you blew the seeds off of a dandelion? Wow, not a clue. Probably not since we lived at my old house and I would go on walks down the path. What was the last thing that happened that you couldn’t explain? Oh I dunno. What do you do with all of your spare change? I just keep it in my wallet. Where did you hear about your all-time favorite band? He was and still is one of my mom's favorites! How many cans of soda do you drink in a day? AHHHHHH soda is my biggest nutritional weakness. I refuse to let myself drink more than one a day now though. It's funny and disgusting, when I was HEALTHY AND SKINNY I could on a rare occasion start a fourth can in a single day. Nowadays the thought almost makes me shiver. What is the oldest thing that you own? and the newest? The oldest thing, ummm. Not sure. Probably a stuffed animal in the attic. I just got two new books today! Is there anything you wish you had never found out about? Yep. A number of things. What is something that you refuse to believe in? Astrology. What is something you wish more people believed in? Gay rights. What food is your ultimate comfort food? Ice cream. Have you ever put anything inside a time capsule? What? OMGGGG I remember doing this in elementary school as a class! I don't recall what was in it, though. Is there too much violence on tv, or are people to sensitive? Too sensitive, but also negligent. It's got a lot to do with raising, imo. Don't show kids wild shit at too young of an age, and when they are shown this kind of stuff, you make it obvious that the behavior/content is unacceptable irl. Entertainment is not responsible for someone's shitty actions made with their own volition. What is something you used to fear, but no longer do? My first huge fear was thunderstorms. Now I enjoy them lol. Do you think it’s important to know a 2nd language? Not mandatory, no. Especially depends on if you're going anywhere. Do you know anyone that’s just naturally good at almost everything? My old friend Hannia IMMEDIATELY came to mind. She was the best in class GPA-wise, first chair for flute in band, and just in general STUPID talented. Do you know anyone that’s just bad at everything? BITCH ME What is one emoticon you use often? A sarcastic :^) or <3 What is one emoticon you almost never use? A lot, particularly ones with equal signs for eyes.