#his natural habitat is the city :)

[despairforme]

Would nnoitra enjoy asmr videos? Any sounds he would like or hate?

❝ I dunno what those are. ❞ He'd been asked about them before, so MAYBE it was time he checked them out? Clearly, "asmr videos" was something people thought he would enjoy. Nnoitra mostly liked for things to be quiet. What kind of sounds did he actually like? Well, what kind of sounds he hated was easy. He hated high-pitched sounds and noises. Something about them was just incredibly annoying and off-putting to him. They gave him an unpleasant feeling all the way to his bones. That was probably how people felt about nails against chalkboards or whatever, huh? Sounds he enjoyed though... Let's see... The rustling of leaves was nice. The sound long grass made when it was windy. The crack-crack sound of small twigs when you walked through the woods. He also liked crunchy sounds. Like when you crushed a dried leaf with your hand. Seemed most of the sounds he enjoyed were tied to nature. No surprise there.

[almakfi]

basim is such a city person

[yandere-daydreams]

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who's introduced to you as the hybrid you'll be taking care. When you found the job listed on some shady, bot-infested site, you figured it was just a temporary gig, that you'd be watching a dog or cat for a few weeks while their owner was away, so imagine your surprise when you pulled up to a reputable mansion a good hour or so out of the city, when an eccentric man with blue hair and an off-putting grin brings you to the lavish enclosure of a hybrid nearly a head taller than you, when you're told that you'll be 'petsitting' his kitten for as long as you care to hold the position. It's weird, but the money's good, and room and board are provided. You can't really afford to turn it down.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who's undeniably, unabashedly spoiled. His owner claims that he tried to replicate his natural habitat as closely as possible, but you don't think there's another snow leopard on the planet who prefers mink fur to his own. You spend most of your time waiting on him, running between Pantalone and his legion of personal chefs, holding sapphires and rubies up to the light so he can decide which one he'd rather have studded into his next collar, combing through his thick black hair while he purrs and basks in your attention. It's a surprisingly demanding job, but you don't mind. He's smart for a hybrid, and surprisingly conversational. Honestly, if it wasn't for the thrashing tail that curls around your legs whenever he passes you, the pointed fangs you catch a glimpse of from time to time, you could forget he wasn't human.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who tells you there's been a change in uniform a month after you start. This variation is definitely less conservative than your old scrubs, more in-line with his own blatant aesthetic values, but you don't complain, even when he starts swapping out his crushed velvet pillows for your lap. He's still a hybrid, no matter how human he might act. You're sure he doesn't see your exposed skin as anything but... something warm and soft to rest his head on, when he's looking for someplace to nap.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who grins as he tells you why his owner is always so busy. He's a researcher, he explains, as you file down his claws for the tenth time that week. He studies hybrid mating habits. His tone is enough to make you blush, and he laughs as you stumble over your response. He goes on to talk at length about his owner's particular fascination with snow leopards, how their pickiness when it comes to choosing a partner makes them a point of interest, but you write it off as a lapse in his otherwise perfect etiquette. You manage to do the same when you find out that he's been slipping into your personal room at night, and when he openly sulks in the days leading up to one of your rare vacations. It's not like you have much of a choice, considering none of the other, more legitimate jobs you've applied for have given you so much as a call back. It's not like you have much of a choice, considering how many weeks it's been since you've heard from anyone at all.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who's already above you when you woke up strapped to a metal table, your legs spread and your vision dim around the edges.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who smiles as he thrusts into you, his favorite fur coat draped over his shoulders and his expression one of idle amusement. There's a mirror built into one wall (an observational window, obviously), and a heap of silk sheets and fleece piled in a corner, but Pantalone's quick to catch your chin, to draw your attention back to him - to your mate.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who's always been so, so spoiled.

Snow Leopard!Pantalone, who's always gotten what he wanted - including his brand new human mate.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Hi! I was wondering if you knew anything in particular about the Lincoln Park Zoo- I think it’s the only zoo I’ve ever been to that’s free/no admission! Especially considering the scale. The only thing that concerned me was that their polar bears seem to have a history of stereotypical behaviors (pacing, primarily) which I saw while I was there, but again, I’m a total outsider to the actual inner workings of the facility. Sorry if this is too vague, haha.

There's a couple city zoos like that with free entrance! It's a cool option, and indicative of the city providing enough funding for the facility to operate without the need for income from tickets. (Sometimes the way things are set up, I think they can be required to stay free). The St. Louis Zoo is another!

I don't know a lot about the Lincoln Park Zoo beyond what I've seen as a guest. I've gone a couple times and haven't seen anything that stood out to me as major red flags, but that's just from a public perspective and not a comprehensive assessment. They're AZA-accredited and have been for a long time, which is an indication of their general ethos and operations. I can't speak to more than that about their quality, unfortunately.

You're right about the polar bear stereotypies - that's a thing I've seen for myself. The thing is, with stereotypies - and especially with polar bears - they're not necessarily an indicator of current welfare or quality of life.

For folk who are new to the blog or unfamiliar with the concept, in animal care, a stereotypy is a "repetitive, invariant behavior pattern with no obvious goal or function." Examples often seen are repetitive pacing, head-bobbing, licking or chewing, and rocking or swaying. (It's important to note that not all repetitive behaviors are stereotypic behaviors - e.g. animals may pace when excited and anticipating the arrival of a keeper). Stereotypies can be an indicator of chronically poor welfare, under-stimulating enrichment, or inappropriate captive environments, but the important thing to know about that is that they often persist after the problem that caused them is resolved. So you can take a polar bear or an elephant that picked up a stereotypic behavior in one zoo and move them to another, much better situation, and they may still continue the stereotypy.

(The fact that stereotypies can be indicators of previous, but not current, welfare problems is a really important nuance that is often left out of discussions. Sometimes they're called "zoochosis", which anti-captivity folk define as "the psychosis induced by captivity"... but that's a very unscientific approach, and doesn't facilitate productive discussion or attempts to identify causes and alleviate the behavior. Zoochosis is nothing but a useless manipulative buzzword, folks.)

Bears in general seem to be prone to stereotypies in captive situations. I've seen some recent research that hypothesizes it's likely due to a lack of ability to engage in normal behavioral sequences, such as foraging. Polar bears seem especially prone to it. One 2013 study found that of the 55 polar bears in North America they assessed, 85% engaged in stereotypical pacing. It might be because they natural cover such a huge range in the wild that older, smaller exhibits haven't allowed them to move as much as they need to; it could also be due to a historical lack of appropriate enrichment. We don't really know, because there's so many potential factors, and the long lifespan of polar bears means longitudinal studies of multiple generations take a very long time.

These are both things the industry is working on fixing: newer polar bear exhibits are built to be much larger and more complex, and there's been a heavy focus in the literature for at least a decade on finding ways to reduce stereotypies by providing engaging enrichment and increasing bears' activity levels. Lincoln Park Zoo's polar bear habitat was renovated in 2016, and - while it looks rather boring to me, as a guest - it was apparently designed to allow for a lot of activity range and polar bear-specific needs.

Their current bears are both about 20 years old, and were transferred to the Lincoln Park Zoo after the new habitat was completed. It's entirely plausible the bears arrived with stereotypies from their previous facilities, given that the emphasis on improving polar bear care is younger than they are. Here's a photo I took there a couple years ago, of Talini (I think), engaging in a repetitive head tossing behavior. It's definitely hard to watch, as a guest, and I don't remember if they had signage up about it.

That all being said, I wouldn't judge the whole zoo based on the polar bear stereotypies, because there's so much at play there in terms of history and the evolution of care for the species. What's important is how they're handling it, and what they're doing to help encourage more normative behavior from the bears. Given the amount of research and effort the zoo field has put into addressing the topic in polar bears for the last decade, it's highly probable that a lot of staff time goes into helping reduce the amount of time those bears spend engaging in stereotypies.

[justadeadreaper]

My friend says I have to write this as an apology for what I posted yesterday as apparently what I wrote was not fluff but angst as it made a few people cry so I have to make up for it with actual fluff. Now that I have said what I think König would do for you when he goes on a long deployment so that you remember how much he loves you when you miss him how about we now hear what I think he does while on the deployments and then a third post detailing what he does when he finally gets back home. 

Yes, König has an issue with being the cockiest man alive but he has another trait(s) that can be considered a thousand times worse, this is how he is extremely possessive and obsessed with what he considers his. It is why he struggles to be apart from you for so long when he is on his missions for months or years at a time even if he keeps actively choosing them for the rush of adrenaline that has to pump through his veins due to how addicted the military made him to the thrill. As mentioned before, the giant will spend any chance and time he gets to write you letters that normally entail how everything is going before going over how greatly he misses you and would prefer to be in your arms in the luxury of your soft bed compared to the cold, lifeless floors of wherever he is. Normally, he ends all his letters asking how you are and what you have been doing, like asking how your hobbies have been going and if you have been using his card to treat yourself while he is gone. 

If he has signal and is in a safe area where he has no worries about calling or checking his phone you can bet that he will be checking every single security camera he has in the house to see what you are doing without telling you as he just loves to see how you are in your natural habitat even if others would call him a peeping Tom for such actions. Sometimes he will even call you on a second phone to talk to you as he watches what you do, sometimes he loves to be a tease and ask what you are doing and make hints towards what you are doing just so he can see the confused look on your face and ask if he is a mind reader.

Due to his kleptomaniac tendencies from how he grew up with virtually nothing to the point he now needs to have everything he was never able to have when he was a child, he will collect trinkets for you to gift you once he gets back home. These trinkets can virtually be anything he was able to get his large, sticky hands on like the jewellery he scavenges from the corpses of all the enemies he has killed so that he can return home to you as he loves seeing you in anything shiny or objects he just likes the look of that he found when scouting the area which itself ranges from a pretty rock he found in a stream to things he found in a ruined house like ornaments that could be used to decorate your home to things such as spoons or weirdly shaped objects that he just found interesting and thought you would find pretty too or souvenirs or clothes he brought in nearby cities, towns, villages or countries to the area his mission was set in as to share the location with you and as a way to make off another area he has been in and successfully come back alive from or it could be something grimmer that just hits the right spot with his morbid thought process he calls normal such as the bones of enemies or dead animals he found that he will eventually DIY to create something useful or pretty to put around the house (the last time he did such a thing he made you multiple candle holders using the arm and hand bones of enemies as he said it looked so pretty to see the wax drip down the bones onto the platform underneath) or he would bring back the weapons or clothing of the enemies he killed if he thought it was pretty or interesting enough to add to the collection he lets you use to protect yourself with while he is gone or cool enough to add to his many uniforms.

Although, his kleptomaniac tendencies do not just stop at inanimate objects. Quite a few of his subordinates and teammates joke that if you find a stray animal you can not kill it but you have to hide it no matter what situation you are in due to König’s horrible habit of collecting animals he finds like Pokémon cards. If König finds a stray animal in the area or one he finds too interesting it is no longer a stray but his pet no matter what it is even if it is as feral as a dog with rabies. This habit was first discovered by his team when he would keep the interesting enough spiders they asked him to dispose of as he would keep them in containers and feed them whatever bug he found around the area but it never stopped there. It was then reaffirmed once they found him sneaking a pair of rats into his bag since he thought they were too cute as they had the audacity to try and bite a hole through his boot. Over the years it became more apparent with every new animal he gathered and brought home to you or how you would suddenly find a new pet such as the toad that now lives by the small fairy pond he built by the rose bushes as he saved it from his team as Tor thought it was a good idea to use it as target practice. If he finds an animal on the mission that he finds cute or interesting enough you can surely bet that he will bring it home to add to the family since he knows you can not refuse his puppy dog eyes that tug on your heartstrings.

If you speak a language he does not and someone on his team can speak it he will be pestering his team member to teach him, but if he does not he will have taken a few small books for him to learn from when he is restless at night and unable to sleep due to his insomnia just so that when he comes home he will be able to surprise you with knowing some of your language.

And like I have mentioned before, he takes mini journals alongside with him where he will be able to sketch you with details of the scenery around him or he will write poems or thoughts about you just to get his mind off of you so they do not clog his thoughts and distract him which creates the risk of him being too distracted and not being alert enough which ends up with him not having the chance to come home to you which neither of you want to happen. The journals are so sappy and sweet but can sometimes be vulgar with its content, he does not dare show it anyone but you, but that only happens once he is finished and every page is full so he can give it you once he is next deployed.

But in the end, all he is waiting for is for the mission to be over so that he can come back to you alive and well so that he can be in your arms once more and spoil you with all the gifts he brought from the mission and when he got back to say sorry for being gone for so long.

[dropsnectar]

Bee-men Stuff

Hi Everyone! So I've been getting alot of attention for the bee content I was making! I just want to thank you all for reading! However, it looks like my fanfic might have made the original author uncomfortable, so I was thinking of just making my own universe for bee monsters and other things! If I'm honest, i’m more into world building, and fluffy stuff anyway. So, if I do write anymore stuff, just assume its this new universe! Here are some thoughts I've been having!

Bees have long had spiritual associations with life and even being messengers to the gods. Because of this, you will find that most Bee-man have a grasp on certain magics, especially when it comes to making honey. This universe is set in a world where monsters are the norm, and often live in colonies in forests or their natural habitats. Humans can be found anywhere as we are a pretty sturdy species and there is often mingling of the species. While there are mostly human cities, there are some that are filled with monsters or other humanoidish creatures. 

Bee-men are pretty rare, as insect monsters usually have to be imbued with sturdy magics to survive out in the wild and upkeep their large physical forms. Its how they are able to fly and be light, while also having some strength!

Bee-men are kind of seen as an endangered species by other beings, due to their rare essence, so there is rarely an overlap of territory between monsters. This also has to do with their honey making skills.

Bee-men are very good at making honey, and do so in a similar way to normal bees. Their territory is often filled with huge flowers, often magical ones that like to travel about. This is how they evolved some of their magics. Their song, difficult to hear for most humans, has been known to calm the rogue nomadic flower into compliance. 

Bee-men are also known to keep normal bees! They often mix their own honey with theirs to form certain concoctions, or just food variety for daily life. Bee-men love sweet things, though cane sugar itself has been known to give them indigestion. Give your local Bee-man jams, or fruit tarts and he will be so happy!

Honey has also been associated with mead, an alcoholic wine made from honey. Irl bees are very stern about drunk bees entering the hives, and contaminating their own honeystores. They've even been known to tear limbs off! But Bee-men have a sort of complicated history with alcohol. In old times, when Bee-men didn't have to worry about their numbers, their would be long, three day festivals, usually on the Queens birthday, where all bees of every class would take shifts working or partying it up on their special mead with their Queen. Their meads natural magical properties also help the drinkers with better speech(Think Kvasir of norse mythology), where Bee-men would take turns telling their Queen and the crowd stories, or share in musical song. There have been times in the past where other beings have broken into the hive to procure this magical mead, in hopes of hitting it rich. For this reason, many hives don't make much mead anymore.

Much like normal bees, Queens are usually made within the hive by feeding an egg Royal Jelly. However, the hive that I will be focusing on has had issues being able to secrete Royal Jelly, as they have been so long without a proper Queen.  

The hive has been able to survive due to surviving off of human product, since honeystores have been low lately, but this has weakened the hive considerably.

Hives are able to take a human queen only if they have the proper pheromone type to interact with the hive. Bees communicate through pheromones, which is why Bees are often covered in a lovely lemony scent. Thats there pheromones and them talking to each other!

Bee-men in the hive are constantly aware of each others emotions, and it is not uncommon for them to be able to use their magic to sooth each other. Their pheromones can make eachother(and humans!) Very calm and relaxed(Or excited… we will get to that later:)). If a Bee-man is around a human long enough that he is acquainted with most of the behavior of your pheromones, he can somewhat talk with you telepathically! Although the most this can do is share emotions, and occasionally images. This isn't very efficient, so many bee-men have learned how to speak human language. 

Bee-men actually have a really interesting origin! Like how I mentioned before about Bees being messengers of the Gods, their was one who loved bees so much he fell in love with one. He gave it human form and their children became Bee-men, hence their innate magical abilities and somewhat humanoid appearance. 

Bee appearances can vary alot! A bees appearance can often effect their skill, and a lot of worker bees or drones share similar features. They have human like faces and are covered in fuzz! Some have several sets of arms, and all have long wings. They can get mistaken for fae sometimes, but the yellow and black fuzz gives it away. Also, their skin has varying textures per where you touch them, some parts are hardened, while things like their inner arms and palms feel more like skin.

Bee-men tend to stay together but there are times that bee-men will leave the hive willingly, or be exiled. In this case it is very important they find a mate or family unit. Much like bunnies, they die easily of broken hearts, and need to have their daily cuddle sessions! They also need to share their pheromones, so it is more often that they create mate bonds with humans. This can be difficult for our little bees, because very few humans are compatible with their type of magic. Its even harder to find a human who is compatible to be a queen.

Thats it for now! I might make a post about their hierarchy and some more stuff. Anywho, if you want more bee media(more smut focused), go ahead and check out @bunnis-monsters ! Also, again I am creating a wider universe of monster and magic stuff through here so if you have any questions, i'm open to it! 

[cremedensada]

something in my drafts that i actually got the energy and motivation to finish. it's not really my best work but i *did* try so!! also 600+ of yall?? (⁠(⁠(⁠;⁠ꏿ⁠_⁠ꏿ⁠;⁠)⁠)⁠)

Yandere Ocean Spirit who the local sailors and fishermen tell tales of. Some say he takes the form of a charming young man talking with the grandmothers, letting himself be entertained by their tales of when they were younger.

Some say she takes the form of a beautiful young lady walking down the shore as the sun sets down the horizon, colorful gold and orange painting the sky with awe - a vision of beauty and elegance.

Some say they take the form of an individual whose beauty goes beyond genders and labels, taking a dip in the ocean - glowing moonlight behind them. Locals who saw a glimpse of them would often murmur about their long cascading hair as dark as the ocean's waves in midnight; no one truly knows where the tips of their hair ends and the ocean begins.

Yandere Ocean Spirit who, despite his contentment with life at the seaside, finds himself curious with you - a new face, a visitor, in his home.

You were staying at the seaside for the summer, spending time with your relatives per your parents' decisions. You're not all too happy with being plucked out of your comfort zone, but you suppose you might as well make it work - a chance to destress before you'll have to come back and face the reality of life's hustle and bustle, like the unforgiving ocean waves crashing against the shore, hah.

The ocean waves are inviting today - not too huge and overwhelming, but neither too placid and calm. You spend a huge chunk of your afternoon watching the waves - something so routinely was so pleasing to you.

The beautiful stranger approaches you in one of your ocean-watching ventures, a sweet smile adorning her beautiful face - asking permission to accompany you. And who are you to deny her? Not when she looks at you looking like the most breathtaking woman you've ever met in your life and you are just a human being with a huge appreciation for beauty.

"I like the ocean," she says, after a moment of silence, eyes trained on the waves, "everything in life can change - things come and go, but you can always count the ocean to be there."

You chuckle. "Even the ocean can be unforgiving, you know. Especially during storms."

"Ah," she laughs, "that, I'll have to agree... we're all victims to the whims of the weather."

You smile in agreement, and the silence that follows is pleasant and welcome - like the ocean breeze gently blowing against your skin.

The next few days you busy yourself with familiarizing around town. While running an errand for your aunt, you come across a huddle of fishermen - gazes grim.

"Looks like it's about to rain," one of them says, "can't go fishing at this weather."

You hear another fisherman let out a grunt, just as you near their huddle.

"We can't always hope for a fair weather all the time. The ocean spirit can only do so much for us common folk."

An ocean spirit? You halt in your steps unconsciously, curiosity urging you to listen more. One of the men seems to notice, and lets out a hearty laugh.

You feel yourself flush in embarrassment at being caught listening.

"Curious, eh?" he says as the others turn to you as well, wearing matching amused smiles - at the very least, they didn't look like they were mocking you. "Never heard of an ocean spirit before?"

"Spirits aren't... exactly common in the city," you find yourself responding.

They nod in understanding. "Too urbanized," one of them says - a man sporting a huge scar underneath his left cheek, "they're more powerful and stronger when they're in their natural habitats."

It's your first time hearing of the existence of such spirits. "What does the spirit look like?"

They share amused glances, like you've just asked them of an inside joke you didn't know they had. "Well it depends on how the spirit wants to look like. But you've already met her, if that's what you're asking."

Their words echo in your mind until the next day as you watch the waves once more. It crashes against the sand and washes towards your feet - you watch it retreat.

A smell of the ocean breeze creeps up on you, and you feel a presence beside you.

"Mind if I join?"

His voice is deeper this time, different from her softer lilt - the one that reminds of you of early morning rays, the calm rippling of the ocean accompanied by the glittering sunlight. His voice feels like the warm ocean water soaking you to your thighs, gently swayed by the waves moving to and fro.

You turn to meet his gaze.

"You never told me you were an ocean spirit."

Unfazed, he smiles. "You never asked... plus, I didn't intend to hide it in the first place."

You entertain him with your company - his eyes gazing at you with keen interest as you share about your life in the city.

"—and what brings you to this peaceful little town?"

"Just... vacation," you shrugged, "I'm heading back to the city after a few weeks."

He frowns, but quickly covers it up with a serene smile. "That's a shame. Can't you stay a little bit longer?"

"I'm not meant for the seaside life," you respond; and it's true. You were not born with the ocean breeze to greet you in the morning, and the sound of birds singing the days away, nor the sound of waves lapping against the shore. You were born with the hustle and bustle, the sound of heavy traffic and hurrying men and women getting to one designation to another, and the smell of smoke permeating in the air.

It can be said, yes, that you can get used to a simplistic life at the beach but could you really? Not when your subconscious mind tells you that there's more to do at home, things to finish, projects to oversee, friends to keep up with, a life that you cannot afford to upend because your comfort has already rooted in the city, and it would be foolish to uproot it in an environment that it has to get used to after it has already matured.

"Oh."

He quietens after that. The waves are audibly more harsher as they crash against the shore, thrashing and lashing even beneath clear blue skies. The ocean spirit is not mad, but it rolls off of him in the waves.

And days turn to weeks — the waves only get harsher. Fishermen stand by the shore, scowling and frowning as the rough waters force them not to travel the nasty waves. What good is their livelihood if they do not live to return anyway?

The ocean spirit is nowhere to be seen, and there's no way to bargain or to ask what's wrong — like he has just disappeared down the depths.

The day of your departure comes, bags packed and a sense of anticipation to be back home thrums in your veins. As the car rumbles to life, thunder crackles in the air and lightning strikes — a flash flood comes surging towards the shore.

Cries of surprise and fear erupted from the villagers as the waves slammed against them, like claws tightening their hold on their prey. Was this the work of their ocean spirit? The gentle soul who would listen to the grandmothers' tales of their young love and misadventures like a child listen's to a fisherman's tale of braving the storms.

Or was the ocean spirit holding themselves back all along, now only deciding to let go of their restraints and let the humans feel the full blow of the ocean without their careful watch. Humans, who have since been uses to their less than concerning storms, unfit to respond to such a devastating occurrence — too panicked and fearful to flee away to higher ground.

You watch as the waves continue to drown more and more people, and a lone figure standing on an elevated rock formation. Has it been there all along?

Your feet moved before your mind can catch up to it, wading through the waters to reach the figure. They notice your presence and, serenely, smiles at you.

"Hello," they greet, like the storm all over them is not happening at all, "wanna watch the ocean with me?"

"You need to stop," you insist instead, ignoring their invitation. "The villagers are drowning."

They merely watch, and hum. "That's a shame, isn't it?" they murmur. How can they be so cruel? No — have they been this heartless all along? What of the person who the people sing praises of? "Perhaps they should start to learn to get used to it."

You hear the wail of a mother. You can only imagine what made her cry with such devastation.

"After you've given them protection?"

"Aren't we all victims to the whims of the weather?" They hum, "then perhaps, we're all also just victims to the whims of the ocean."

"And what would change the ocean's whim right now?"

As though waiting for that inevitable question to be asked, they smiled. "For you to stay."

Another harsh wave ravages the village, and they smiles at you with a calm smile — calm as the waves of the ocean should be — as more cries and sobs, pleas for help fills your ears.

"Well? Will you stay, or will you let everyone drown?"

[lonelywretchjervistetch]

The State Birds Initiative: Pennsylvania (#2)

Welcome to the second official poll of the State Birds Initiative! Before the poll, though, one thing real quick. My suggestion is that you read the post below before voting in the poll below. That's especially important if you're lacking any context about the birds being presented as the new (or old) State Bird of the Keystone State, Pennsylvania. This is to be fully informed as to why these are being presented, and to make your choices appropriately. Lastly, some of these birds, you will notice, may go against some of the rules listed in the introduction post. All is explained after the jump where the explanations are, I promise you that. But with that...OK! Here's the poll! More choices this time, but that's definitely a bit deceptive. Trust me, read the stuff after the jump, you'll see why.

LET'S GO PHILLY

Kidding on two fronts. One, not a massive sports fan, and not really a fan of any Philadelphia teams (I love Gritty, though. Always and forever.). And two, this is obviously not a post about Philadelphia. So, let's talk about the Quaker State, Pennsylvania! The capital is Harrisburg, while its biggest city is Philadelphia. Pennsylvania is, of course, the first capital of these United States, and arguably the seat of the country. It's the home of Benjamin Franklin (even though it wasn't his birthplace), the Liberty Bell, the Constitution, and Rocky Balboa. And of course, its perfect symbol: Gritty.

God, he's beautiful. The perfect mascot. Who cares about the Flyers; Gritty's who I'm rooting for. Anyway, amazing and unassailable symbols of chaos aside, we're here to talk about Pennsylvania's natural world. So, what are we looking at. Well, it's a mostly deciduous forest-dominated state, so we're looking at seasonal forests and probably seasonal birds...for the most part. At the very least, our ideal bird is a forest resident and breeder in the state. Nothing too unusual or difficult to find.

Birding in Pennsylvania is pretty stereotypical to that of the northeastern United States. There are a few major spots, especially those that graze the Appalachian Mountain Range, which runs through the state. As for conservation concern, habitats of focus are the Appalachian forests that are often deforested for development, especially in the areas near Philadelphia. No real surprise, but that's a good target for conservation focus.

As for Pennsylvania's culture, it's famously descendant of the Quakers, who founded the state under the leadership of William Penn. This isn't to say that Pennsylvanians are Quakers; if you've been to Philadelphia, you know that's not true. According to a few accounts I've seen, that essentially means there's an attitude of helpfulness to your neighbor within the state, as well as a cultivation of the value of hard work. It's also a state that prides its history pretty thoroughly, from Philadelphia's various museums and public historical monuments, to the historical communities that thrive in the state, like the Lancaster Amish. Not sure how either of those will translate themselves into birds, but...hey, we'll see, right?

I also saw somebody refer to PA as heavily into "snack culture". And I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I WILL take the opportunity to say one thing: do not waste money on the cheesesteaks at Pat's or Geno's. It's meant to attract tourists, and they aren't worth it, BELIEVE ME. There are better cheesesteaks in the city, from what I've heard, but those two are...not worth the money. Just trust me on this one.

That said, it's time to look for a proper state bird for Pennsylvania. There's some emphasis there on the "proper", and the first entry in the following section has an explanation by that. With that, let's go for it! State Bird nominations for Pennsylvania below the jump!

Ruffed Grouse (Bonasa umbellus)

OK, let's start with the current bird highlighted by Pennsylvania, the Ruffed Grouse (Bonasa umbellus). Now, I love these guys. If you've never experienced it, walking through the woods and suddenly hearing a deep thrumming echo through the trees is...it's a unique sensation. You wonder where it's coming from, why and how it's so loud, what's making it, and then...it just pops up. Maybe it sees you looking for it, and you flush it out and watch a panicking male run away. Maybe he just looks back at you puffed up and stands his ground a bit (which is unlikely, but still). Either way, these guys never cease to put a smile on my face.

This behavior is called drumming, by the way, as pictured above. A male grouse will position themselves on a hollow fallen tree, and use it as a megaphone to send out these vibrations across swathes of territory. It is, unsurprisingly, a territorial behavior for the grouse, and iconic in its own way. Now, a few more facts about the Ruffed Grouse. The name, by the way, comes from the feathers on the sides of the male's neck, which are erected during courtship and territorial displays. It's obviously colored to camouflage in the fallen leaves of deciduous forests, where it resides throughout the year. They're granivorous members of the Galliformes (grouse, pheasants, quail, etc.), and fairly common in the Eastern United States. But with that said...here's the big problem with this choice for State Bird.

It isn't a State Bird. It's a State Game Bird.

Yeah, remember the Delaware Blue Hen from the last poll (assuming you read it, here it is if you didn't)? I suggested that it should be the State Game Bird of Delaware, rather than the State Bird. Well, right next door to Delaware, Pennsylvania already has a State Game Bird in the form of the Ruffed Grouse. Why, you ask? Well, first off, the Ruffed Grouse is actuall known as the "King of the Gamebirds" colloquially, crowned such by William Harnden Foster, the father of skeet shooting. Yes, actually. But anyway, the bird was declared the State Game Bird in 1931, but there was not real reason why outside of popularity with hunters. So...OK, fair enough. It just means that the Ruffed Grouse is not a State Bird. But should it be?

The question asked here is, should the Ruffed Grouse be promoted to a State Bird, since most Pennsylvanians seem to think of it as such anyway? Well, looking at the guidelines we've previously set and established...I don't know, honestly. And my main reason for doubt, personally, is the fact that the grouse, while found in Pennsylvania, is BARELY a breeder in the state. Only 0.4% of the bird's overall breeding population is in Pennsylvania, and only 13% is in the United States at all. And yes, that means the species is mostly found in...

So, when you think about it, is this truly the answer to the PA State Bird question? Well, it does represent much of the biome of Pennsylvania, a forest-dominated state squarely in the temperate and deciduous zone. It has a history and culture of hunting, and the grouse is certainly one of the most popular species on that front. And they're certainly iconic, and easy to hear in most forests, not to mention fun to look and listen for for beginning birders. The first time I stumbled on a Ruffed Grouse was, lemme tell you, a delight. And the second time, I LITERALLY stumbled on them, because a mother and her chicks were running away from me, and one of the chicks ran between my feet from behind me to join its mother, and I have NEVER BEFORE FELT MORE LIKE A DISNEY PRINCESS UNTIL THAT MOMENT IT WAS FUCKING MAGICAL

But, yeah, with that said, I submit the Ruffed Grouse for your deliberation as a State Bird. And as for a State Game Bird...oh, I've got a thought on that one, too. But I'll save that until the end, I think.

Scarlet Tanager (Piranga olivaceus)

So, as before, let's start the replacement options with a bird suggested by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, and a solid-ass pick for a number of reasons. The Scarlet Tanager is one of the most striking birds in the eastern United States, and there's no state with a larger breeding population of these birds than Pennsylvania. 13% of the species' global breeding population is found in PA, making the state a major staging point for the species. Native to and dependent upon the deciduous forests of the state, this is a hidden ornithological icon.

Chestnut-sided Warbler (Setophaga pensylvanica)

Well, if I had the Ring-billed Gull (Larus delawarensis) listed for Delaware, it only makes sense to list the Chestnut-sided Warbler (Setophaga pensylvanica) for Pennsylvania! Similarly, it's the only species that have Pennsylvania as a state in the species name. And trust me, this is a rare luxury, either because most states have no bird species named for them, or a LOT of bird species named for them. Just wait for the Carolinas or California, believe me. But that said, is the Chestnut-sided Warbler a good fit for Pennsylvania?

Well, it certainly breeds in the state; the majority of the global population breeds in Canada, like the Ruffed Grouse, but a good amount still breeds in the deciduous temperate forests of the USA. The PA breeding population represents 3% of the global breeding population, and as compared to Michigan's 7%, Pennsylvania still doesn't have the majority. But again, let's put that statistic to the wayside. Is there anything else about the Chestnut-sided Warbler that represents Pennsylvania in a meaningful way? Well...no. Not, not really. There is a story of John James Audubon (yes, that Audubon, the racist one), and his first AND ONLY sighting of the Chestnut-sided Warbler, which took place in eastern Pennsylvania, alongside his hunt for the species throughout his life. So, hey, there's a tie. But other than that, this is another opportunity to choose an handsome looking bird that serves as a unique bird to look for for Pennsylvanians, any of whom can say, "Hey, I've seen that bird! Cool!"

...Wait, I just realized something about this category of choice. Pennsylvania has more species name reputation than I thought...indirectly. Hmm. Let's combine their entries.

Philadelphia Vireo (Vireo philadelphicus) Bonaparte's Gull (Chroicocephalus philadelphia) Mourning Warbler (Geothlypis philadelphia)

There are, in total, three species that are named after the great city of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. And this is both the only one with the city name in its common name...and also the worst choice of the three. At least the Bonaparte's Gull (Chroicocephalus philadelphia) and the Mourning Warbler (Geothlypis philadelphia) breed in the state. And for the record, those are up for debate for this spot if anybody world prefer those go in there. But if those are better options (barely; both birds also barely breed in Pennsylvania), then why choose the Philadelphia Vireo?

Is it iconic? To birdwatchers, maybe, but mostly because it's a pretty difficult bird to get when you're starting out. I've seen them, but it's not easy to find them. And to the layman? It's a little green bird that lives in green trees. Oof. Hard sell for a state bird. At least Bonaparte's Gull (above) is visible on bodies of water, and a fairly common bird alongside being an unusual-looking gull for most people. Plus, hey, they're kinda handsome and cute in my opinion. What about the Mourning Warbler (below)? While also somewhat difficult to find by virtue of being a little green bird, has a notable and memorable appearance. But you could also argue that it belongs rightly to other states instead.

But the Philadelphia Vireo? Yeah, it's the worst candidate of the three, but...it's also the only warbler who once carried the name Brotherly-Love Vireo. Yeah. As in Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love? That is a good reason. However, you could argue that, given the fact that the work "philadelphia" is literally Greek for "brotherly love"...it's still a flimsy argument. But hey, I'd be remiss if I didn't include these guys on this list for State Bird, even if I...doubt they're gonna get any votes.

Pileated Woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus)

For one of two conservation-related entries of this post, let's take a look at the Pileated Woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus). Now, to get this out of the way, the Pileated Woodpecker is all over the Eastern USA. These big, crow-sized woodpeckers (and these guys are HUGE when you see them for the first time; love 'em) are a common sight in deciduous and coniferous forests (the predominant habitat in PA), and are most certainly breeders in Pennsylvania. They're iconic enough, fun to find, and can be detected through signs they leave in trees. Namely, of course, I'm referring to the nest hollows they make in trees for their offspring, as well as holes made to search for insects. But, OK, same question as always, why suggest it for the PA State Bird?

The pileated woodpecker, as the big bird it is, is an ecosystem modeler. What this means is, those holes they carve in trees are used by other species, including owls, squirrels, weasels, ducks, and various others that live in the same areas. Pennsylvania's wildlife isn't above using Pileated Woodpecker holes for their own uses, making the birds extremely important for other species. Ecosystem architects are not uncommon in nature. Most of your probably think of the American Beaver (Castor canadensis) or the American Alligator (Alligator mississippiensis) when that topic comes up, but there are many others. In ecology, there's a term for species that modify their environments in ways that become significant for the survival of other species. Because other species rely on them, they're referred to as keystone species.

Get it?

Pennsylvania is also known as the Keystone State. And, like beavers and alligators before them, woodpeckers are also keystone species. This isn't a commonly talked about aspect of woodpeckers, but the Pileated Woodpecker in particular is getting some recent attention as a keystone species. So, why not highlight this recently proposed classification and give the Keystone State a Keystone Species for its State Bird? It serves as a lesson in ecology for everyone, school kids or the uninformed, and it's a great way to make the State Bird about Pennsylvania's ecosystems. Conservation-focused, and an iconic species to boot!

Do I think the Pileated Woodpecker is the best species for Pennsylvania on it's own merits? I don't know, honestly. Like I said before, it's a fun-to-find iconic bird, it breeds in the state, and there's not real reason it shouldn't be the state bird. But I really like the idea of giving the Keystone State a keystone species, and not a lot of North American birds act in that role. If anybody has a better suggestion, I am all ears, but I think this one works pretty well. Plus, hey, there's only one woodpecker amongst the State Birds, which is a shame! Who doesn't love woodpeckers?

American Goshawk (Accipiter atricapillus)

For the other conservation entry of this list, we once again turn to a raptor, and a damned cool one at that. Previously referred to as the northern goshawk, the American Goshawk (Accipiter gentilis) is a silent and efficient predator. One of the most skilled forest flyers amongst the accipiter hawks, these birds specialize in rodents and birds that live in the trees, and are amazing at weaving through the understory to catch their prey. I adore goshawks, and they're honestly a bit terrifying. I used to work at a raptor rehabilitation facility which bred these guys in central New York, and they're beautiful and terrifying. Also, I've held one in a towel burrito, and that was a highlight of my life.

Now, with that said, the goshawk is barely found in Pennsylvania in recent years, although it used to be quite common. The Fish and Game Department, alongside Audubon, have this as a species of major concern and focus in Pennsylvania, despite (for because of) a very small breeding population. But there's a sad reason for this, making this a VERY good candidate for State Bird. See, in the 1900s, goshawks were considered pests, due to their love of chicken and wild game birds. Therefore, they were regularly shot, and Pennsylvania in particular offered rewards for their bodies.

By 1931, goshawk populations in Pennsylvania plummeted. This was also when the early 20th century environmentalist movements started, and this issue in particular was noticed by environmentalist and suffragette Rosalie Edge. To save hawk populations in Pennsylvania, she purchased a piece of land to bar the hawk-hunters on the property. This was called Hawk Mountain, and was founded in 1934 as the world's first raptor preserve. Yeah. Not only was it the first of these, but one of the first (if not THE first) created by a woman. Let's fucking go. Rosalie was a known bad-ass in conservation, and regularly did shit like this for what she believed in. An unsung hero of conservation and ornithology.

The hawk hunts ended alongside the Pennsylvania Game Commission in the 1950s, and raptor conservation continued on as a major movement in the state of Pennsylvania. Hawk Mountain in particular became a massive centerpoint of this, and today, it's maybe the most famous place in the United States to watch the annual fall and spring migrations of raptors. The raptor counts at Hawk Mountain Sanctuary are an annual bonanza, attracting birders from near and far. Haven't made it there yet myself, but it's on my list of must-bird locations. I implore you to learn more about this wonderful place. Check out their YouTube channel if you want to know more from their perspective! And it's all based on the impressive conservation story of the American Goshawk. I think that makes it a pretty goddamn good candidate for State Bird. Brings attention to conservation history, and on a major natural phenomenon that can be seen every year in Pennsylvania. Pretty goddamn cool.

The hell is even left after that? Well...

Wild Turkey (Melagris gallopavo)

OK, hear me out here. Of ALL the birds in the USA, if there is any state should have more federal recognition, it's the Wild Turkey (Meleagris gallopavo). It's the only bird that essentially has a holiday dedicated to it (OK, dedicated to killing and eating it, but you get what I mean). It's also, notoriously, the alleged runner-up for national bird, having lost to the Bald Eagle (Halieetus leucocephalus). To be fair, here, that's a potential urban myth, but an important one regardless, especially to Pennsylvania.

Other than this, though, everybody knows what a Turkey looks like. It's arguably one of the top 5 iconic wild birds of the USA, and is very common throughout the country. It is, in fact, found in every one of the Lower 48, and in Hawaii (introduced there). Not Alaska, though. Which is good, because frozen turkey is dangerous. Ha ha ha. But is that an argument for Pennsylvanis to have it as the State Bird, or even as the State Game Bird? Because that's also an option, for the record. I argue, though, that Alabama, Massachusetts, Oklahoma, and South Carolina already have it as a State Game Bird, which especially makes sense for Alabama, which is prime turkey-hunting ground. As is, for that matter, Pennsylvania. Turkey season here is longer than in most places, and according to HuntStand, it's basically a culture there in and of itself. So, yeah, appropriate on that front alone. But that said...Pennsylvania should own the turkey for one more important reason.

I mean...Benjamin Franklin. Come on. You gotta give it to Pennsylvania's favorite son. I've been to the Franklin Institute, I KNOW how beloved he is in PA. And Benjamin Franklin, famously, loved two things: wild sex parties with older women, and the Wild Turkey. AND I QUOTE:

For my own part I wish the Bald Eagle had not been chosen the Representative of our Country. He is a Bird of bad moral Character. He does not get his Living honestly. ...For the Truth the Turkey is in Comparison a much more respectable Bird, and withal a true original Native of America… He is besides, though a little vain & silly, a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to attack a Grenadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his Farm Yard with a red Coat on.”

Now, contrary to popular belief, this is not Franklin saying the Wild Turkey should be the national bird. This is, instead, Frankling saying that he fucking hates the Bald Eagle, whom he sees as a lazy, thieving, selfish, disrespectful, manipulative asshole. So, yeah, in retrospect, not an inappropriate symbol for some parts of the country. But regardless, he's right about turkeys: they do not give a shit about your boundaries if you're on their land. Trust me, I live in an area of New England where there are some BIG fuckin' turkeys, and they WILL CHASE YOU if you mess with them. I SEEN IT

With that, though, I think we've covered the major candidates for the State Bird of Pennsylvania. Any I've missed or forgotten? Any suggestions you may have? I'm all ears! Make sure to vote, and come back for state #3: New Jersey. Which...I think a lot of us have thoughts on. Although, hey...I don't hate the State Bird. Well, as a bird, anyway; I'm indifferent to it as NJ's bird. More context next time, I promise.

See you soon, and happy birding!

[thevoidstaredback]

I should be sleeping, but I'm not, so here's a thing based on a thing I just saw!

Pre ID reveal (I do a lot of these, but that's because the comedy is endless)

The JL and JLD especially, as well as all the protege teams treat the Bats with Fae or Vampire or Cryptid rules. The Batfam figured it out after the third time the others turned down the invite into Gotham, and they all started rolling with it. Nothing really comes of it, though, until someone does accept the invite to Gotham.

I'm thinking it's gotta be Clark, Diana, or Oliver. Clark could be there for an interview with Bruce Wayne (probably shortly after he buys The Daily Planet) and Tim Drake. Diana could be there for any number of reasons, but I think she's there for a new art exhibit that opened up in the Greek part of Gotham museum where she bumps into Damian Wayne and Dick Grayson. Oliver could be there on business, strictly speaking, but he hasn't talked to Bruce in person since just after their senior year of high school, so is it really a coincidence that he meets up with Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd (who was revealed to have been in witness protection for a time)?

Dealer's Choice on who's there. Could be one, could be all three. Could be someone else entirely! (Though, I can really only see Barry as having a good excuse of working with the GCPD on a case and meeting Dick that way if you really wanted to not use the other three)

Anyway. We're gonna use Clark here because he'd be extra cautious around magic, seeing as it's one of like...2 weaknesses he has.

Clark is sent to Gotham for an interview with the head of Wayne Enterprises. Ownership didn't change, but stuff got mixed up around last year, so he could either be meeting with Bruce Wayne or Time Drake-Wayne. Either way, Clark doesn't want to be here. Lois was supposed to be here, but she got sick, so he got stuck traveling across the harbour to the Crime Capitol of the Country.

He'd normally be ecstatic about potentially running into any of his JL coworkers in their natural habitat home cities, but Gotham was different. Batman, for all that he is Superman's best friend, doesn't let anyone into Gotham. There had been speculation for a while as to why that was, but no one had really been able to confirm it.

Kal-El didn't make it a habit, but he had, admittedly, tried to find out who Batman is under the cowl. He couldn't help it! He and Diana had told both each other and Batman who they were, but Bats had refused. He and Diana were understanding, of course, but that didn't stop the journalist side of him from slipping into the forefront of his mind.

At first, Kal thought he was sick. But he can't get sick. It's not like he could just ask B if his cowl was lined with lead or magic or kryptonite or something!

God, he hoped it was magic that was preventing Kal from seeing through Batman's cowl. It couldn't be kryptonite because Kal would've known it the second he got too close. Lead was the only thing he couldn't see through (that wasn't magic) but that brought up the issue of B's health how heavy the cowl was.

Magic, believe it or not, was the most logical explanation. Batman's cowl and cape are connected, so any magic on one would be on the other. With the way that Batman's cape seems to move on its own, somehow pull him deeper into shadows, and is able to hide at least four humans at any given moment, well, it's not a stretch to say magic was being used. Ignoring the fact that Batman hates magic.

That's a lie. He hates what he doesn't understand. And, try as he might, the man can't get a handle on magic.

Off topic.

Clark got off the train at exactly fifteen-hundred hours. Fourth-five minutes before he had to be at Wayne Tower (who named it that? surely not Mr. Wayne himself?) to meet whoever he was interviewing today.

Not knowing the layout of the city was what probably made Clark on obvious target. He should've memorized a map of the city before coming here.

He knows that there are three parties at work. Red Hood, who not even Batman pushes the boundaries of; Signal, who covers the entire city during the day; and Batman, Robin, Red Robin, Spoiler, Black Bat, and Oracle who cover the night shift. Sometimes, Nightwing joins them from Bludhaven, but that's only sometimes. It's safe to assume, though, that Red Hood and Nightwing are the two outliers. So long as Clark doesn't draw the attention of those two or Signal, he should be fine. A quick in and out and he'll be home free!

"Mister Kent?" the receptionist asks when he approaches her desk.

"Yes," he clears his throat, nervous for some reason he can't place, "That's me." What's wrong with him? It's just a routine interview! He's done hundreds like it before!

The receptionist smiles at him. "Misters Wayne are both waiting for you in Mister Wayne's office on the tenth floor."

He nods his thanks and goes to the elevator. Doesn't this building have like...thirty floors, though? Wouldn't the CEO's office be on the top floor?

Regardless, Clark uses the short elevator ride (complete with smooth jazz as the provided white noise) to calm himself down. He's met hundreds of big shots. Mister Wayne, whichever (or both?) he's meeting with today will be no different.

Maybe.

Probably.

Hopefully.

The elevator dings, the sound an odd harmony of several notes on the C Major scale instead of the single tone bell that is common through everywhere else. He gets off on the tenth floor and finds exactly four offices. He knocks on the door labeled 'Bruce Wayne'.

"Come in!" is called from inside, though the voice sounds too young to be Bruce.

Clark opens the door with an easy smile, taking in stride the fact that he is meeting with both Bruce and Tim Wayne. Oh, dear. "Good afternoon, Mister Wayne, Mister Drake-Wayne."

"Please," Mister Wayne has on the smile he always wears for the public. "Call me Bruce."

"And call me Tim," Tim shakes Clark's hand after he stands from his seat. The door clocks shut behind Clark.

Ah. Now he knows why he's so nervous. Batman usually only has bad things to say about Bruce Wayne. On the other hand, Tim Drake is a complete mystery to him.

Clark takes a seat on the couch opposite the two men when he's prompted. They go through pleasantries they all know are ingenuine before Clark opens up the notepad he brought with him. "Now, Mister Wayne, Mister Drake-Wayne, what made you decide to buy The Daily Planet?

Storyboard

[sashiavi]

•·····🍑········• ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𝓓𝓪𝔂 𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪•········🍑·····•

𝚂𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝙰𝚟𝚒'𝚜 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙺𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 2023

#7•𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚢 𝙳𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐•#7

𝙰𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒 𝙸𝚝𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ ³ᵏ

Contrary to popular belief, Arataki Itto was actually a very clean man. He took pride in his appearance, always carrying a comb for his wicked, thick hair, just in case he needed to gussy up. His embellishments on his clothing were always polished and replaced if missing, not a stitch out of place. His large fangs were pearly and white, brushed thoroughly every morning and night, his form bent over a small sink with frothy toothpaste dribbling down his chin was a sight to behold. Itto's skin was (freakishly - in your opinion) clear - minus the stark red tattooing that painted his body. He claimed he had a 'Super Duper Top Secret Special Arataki The One And Onsen Enjoyer Itto' method to having immaculate skin. Not that you were particularly listening to him.

"Aren't you permanently prohibited from the Hot Springs in Inazuma City?" You quip at him. You weren't wrong, he was in fact banned. For life. Your boss seemed to terrorize the city in the most underwhelming fashion possible.

Somehow, you found yourself atop a high mountain, skin bit at sharply by the cold wind, you were surprised there wasn't any snow. You press on, nearly dragged by the aforementioned Oni, he insisted that he would graciously share his little secret with you. Through a set of thick bushes and trees you come across a small clearing, a steaming hot spring nestled by thick boulders and cliffs. The air was wet and humid, the water slightly clouded, but the scent of sulfur was welcomingly absent. Itto puffs his chest out, clearly proud of his little discovery, already showing you all of the 'cool and awesome features' it had to offer.

"This rock could totally be used as a cup holder!" He bouts. Did he even bring a cup?

Before you can even reply Itto was already working his clothes off, untangling the intricate buckles and straps adorned over his body. You're quick to look away, finding a sudden interest in a lavender melon, though, not before you catch a glimpse of his large naked form. You hear the water ripple softly as itto climbs into the spring, groaning out a long "Ahh" as he sinks into the steaming water. You glance back, his arms stretch over the slippery smooth stone behind him, resting his elbows on the lip of the pool. His thick, painted chest peaks above the murky water, large pecs rising with his deep breaths. Weirdly, he looked as though he were in his natural habitat, this large hulking creature resting, relaxed in his own personal bath. Itto definitely had an essence of dominance, as if he owned the place, he probably thought he did considering he had found it.

"C'mon! Are 'Ya comin' in or not?" He calls from his spot. Oh, right. You were here for a reason, to experience the spring he had gushed so highly about. The idea hadn't fully set into your brain, you didn't really have time to think of the logistics of the activity - to be naked with Itto; The boss of the Arataki Gang, the Gang you were very much apart of, therefore your boss. Naked, with your boss, practically sharing the same bath. Maybe it wasn't too late to take a leap off of a nearby cliffside. Did Itto experience embarrassment? You were starting to think he did not. You pressed your lips into a thin line, the water was clouded, if you kept your body submerged maybe he wouldn't see you.

"Can you look away?.. please?" You plead softly, the last thing you wanted to do right now was perform a strip tease for him. A strip tease? Why was that the first thought to pop into your head? Alright, maybe you have had the one off, maybe several, countless sleepless nights thinking about the large Oni. Archons, It wasn't your fault that he was beautiful. The man of the hour shrugs his shoulders, tilting his head back against the lip of the spring and shuts his eyes. You were doomed. The soft swell of his Adam's apple accentuated by his extended throat, his sharp jaw angled prettily under the tree's shade. Was he aware of just how handsome he was?

You blink away from him, carefully removing your clothing and folding them into a neat pile. The cool mountain wind makes your skin shiver, prickling with goosebumps, the steaming spring was looking especially tempting. You wrap your arms around your chest, ineffective against the breeze but still bringing you a slight comfort, at least some part of you was covered up. Tentatively, you dip your toe into the spring, the warm water swells under your touch. You carefully step in, bypassing the slippery stoned ledges naturally carved into the pool. Your arms stay around you as you sink into the pool, sitting directly across from Itto, a good few feet away.

Itto peaks an eye open, downturned from his position, he gives a cheeky smirk and lifts his head to face you. You sink further under the murky water, cheeks flushed from more than the steaming spring. Archons, could this be any more embarrassing?

"Why are you all the way over there? I don't bite!" It apparently could. Itto's voice was ever boisterous, you were sure he alone could cause an avalanche, maybe that was just what you needed. You'd never have to think about this situation ever again. Reluctantly, you cross the length of the hot spring, carefully making your way over to where the large Oni sat.

You weren't careful enough it seemed. You felt as though something brushed against your calf, slimey and thin like a tendril. Oh Gods, there was surely a flesh eating whopper flower about to pop up and snatch you for dinner. The thought is stupid but your brain wholeheartedly believed it for at least 0.2 seconds - So did your body. You jolt unexpectedly, yelping shortly as a little tendril of grass attacks you under the water's surface. Your foot slips on the slick rocks beneath you, launching you straight into the unsuspecting Oni.

If you weren't already embarrassed (you were), you sure as hell were now. Could the Abyss just open up and swallow you whole? Please? Your body was frozen in place, your soft tits pressed into the Oni's hot skin of his chest. Your hands brace his large shoulders, your finger's barely wrapping around the swell of him. Your legs were stuck, straddling the thick quad muscle of his thigh, flexed hard due to the startle of you slipping on to him. Archons, Itto was handsome, never have you seen his face so close before, his strong, pretty nose, sharp brow and jaw, soft, parted lips. He looked stunned, crimson eyes wide, tongue poking behind his thick canines.

Everything about your current situation was warm. The warm steaming water, the hot press of his skin, his warm breath on your lips, sweet and strawberry scented. His tongue wets his bottom lip, stained red from one of the many lollipops he'd nursed on during the hike up to the spring. Your eyes dart to his mouth and back at his face, he follows suit, swallowing thickly as he inches ever so slightly towards your lips. You're not sure who closes the gap, but your lips end up on his, slow and tender. He breathes you in, his broad nose knocks into your own as he tilts his head. Your tongues collide, slipping and rubbing against each other, as sweet as candy. Your tongue swirls against his, lips open and pressed together, drinking up each other's soft moans. Slowly you pull away, only just, hot spit connects your mouths together, barely getting a chance to snap before you dive back in. His thick canines carefully bite at your lips, irritating them deliciously, making them ache and swell.

Your hips move on their own, grinding your achey cunt on his thigh. Itto's breath catches in his throat, growling lowly on your tongue. A large palm squeezes at your hip, slowly guiding you in his lap. You moan sweetly into his mouth, chest rising heatedly, a soft pressing ache blooms in your clit as you squirm on his thigh. The water below dribbles from your palms as you slide them from his chest to his neck, wrapping your arms snuggly around his shoulders. You card your wet fingers through his hair from the nape of his neck, tangling the strands with the moisture on your hands. You feel his unoccupied hand slide down your front, over your bellow and towards your navel. He thumbs at your clit, rubbing slow circles over your achey bud.

"I-Itto!" You wine into his mouth. He mutes your cries with a harsh press of his lips, Archon's he couldn't get them off of you. He drinks in every little noise you make, swallowing them up with his tongue. The pads of his fingers press elsewhere, dipping ever so carefully into your hot cunt. You sigh as he slips his thick middle finger into you, tugging at the hair growing from the nape of his neck. His finger teases you, fucking into you with quick short curls before slowing down, pressing his thumb to your clit. His pace alternates, always surprising you, earning him the sweetest whines to eat up. A second finger joins, nestling into your pussy, rubbing at the sweet little spot inside of you. You can't help but grind into them, wiggling your hips down on his yummy fingers.

The thick length of his cock presses into your soft tummy, his fat velvety head rubs against your sternum. Archons he was huge, the thought of his cock splitting you open makes your pussy ache on his huge fingers. Your hand comes down to cup his fat cockhead, carefully rubbing up and down. You thumb at his slit, teasing and hot, it was his turn to whine into your lips. Your cunt clenches on his fingers, begging for something longer, thicker.

"Gods… Can I sit on it?" You whine into his mouth, biting against his plump bottom lip. You're fairly certain his mind short circuits, his very last brain cell is fried. His lips part with a soft moan, his cock twitches hard on your front, clearly he's entertaining the thought. His fingers curl hard in your sweet pussy, fucking you fevourishly. Your head tilts back with a short hiccup and he kisses across your cheek, warm lips land behind your ear. He nibbles softly at your skin, big teeth pressing so sweetly into your neck.

"If you can take me, Doll~" His voice is low and cheeky, Archons you've never heard him like this. You squeeze at his thick cock to prove yourself, flicking your wrist in just the right way. Itto moans a laugh, capturing your lips in a quick, searing kiss. You move to straddle his lap, legs already aching from just how big his body was. You rub your sweet pussy on his cock, catching his thick head on your achey hole. He groans as his fat cockhead slips through your folds, slick from the warm water and your own creamy arousal. Gods you must be dripping if he can still feel it.

"..Want you…" You keen, chest heaving, pretty tits pressing into his chest with every hot breath. Itto nods, his brows pitched up, eyes foggy and glossy. He wanted you too. You guide his fat head to your achey little hole, wiggling your hips over his cock as it nestles into your little pussy. His large palms brace on your hips as you *slowly* sink your cunny down on his length. Your pussy was somehow hotter than the steaming spring around you, creamy and tight and just so right for him. His cock stretches you nicely, stinging in the best kind of way. His length was never ending, sinking into you forever it seemed, Gods you swore you could feel him in your throat. Was this what heaven was? You were willing to sin again and again if this was your destiny.

"Take it all.. Yeah, yeah, lookin' so good in my lap-" Itto babbles. Gods he was so vocal - And you loved it. Your pussy kisses at the base of his cock, clenching sweetly on his thick length, squeezing lovingly. Itto continues to babble sweet praises, lips pressing into your neck and shoulder with every few words. His palms caress over your skin, settling on your plump ass cheeks, squishing the flesh with his fingers. He gently pulls you forward, rocking your hips on his cock, nestled so deeply inside of your cunt. It was your turn to whine, stringing sweet pet names into his ear, praising him for filling you so well.

You take initiative, carefully lifting your hips in his lap, dragging his length out of your warm cunt before dropping back down with haste. The sweet press against your cervix makes you cry out, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck. You continue, fucking his fat cock with slow thrusts, relishing the thick stretch of your walls. It was slow, it was intense, and you never wanted it to end. Ittos breaths are heavy, laced with a soft pitch of his voice, his chest heaves against yours with his breathy pants. He has to resist fucking his length into you from below, resist grabbing your smaller form and having his way with you. His hips crane into yours accidentally, pushing his cock head well beyond where you thought was physically possible. You moan from your throat, whiney and high pitched.

"F-Fuck- 'm sorry Doll" He moans pathetically, soothing his hands over your behind. You shake your head, pressing your teeth into your bottom lip.

"No.. not sorry- Fuck me~" You keen. Your legs ached, the water's resistance did a number on your thighs. Itto's jaw drops and his eyes roll, Gods you were insatiable. He snaps his mouth shut with a click of his teeth. He squeezes your ass, fucking his hips up into your gushy pussy, relishing in the soft squeeze it gives his cock. He starts out slow, tentative, testing the limit of your creamy cunt, pressing his tip hotly into your aching walls. The hot water ripples around you, lapping in waves against the edge of the pool. You wiggle and squirm in his hold, trying to grind your sweet cunny down on him faster. He nips at your bottom lip, spreading your ass cheeks and bottoming out hard in your pussy. He relishes in the loud cry you give him, grinning dopily before he picks up his pace.

He thrusts up harshly, his fat cock fucks into your soft pussy over and over. He bounces you on his cock, the water of the pool splashes and laps at the slippery rock edges. Your pretty tits rub at his chest, sweet and bouncy, standing out insatiably against the red tattoos he adorns on his skin. Gods he was strong, battling the thick resistance of the water with his hips and forearms just to fuck you. Your puffy clit grinds into his navel, sending the sweetest ache into your cunny. You string a sweet babble of his name;

"Itto~ Itto! 's good Itto!" You hiccup, fucked stupid in his lap.

"Such a pretty girl~ P-Pussy's made for me~!" He babbles back. Archons he was drunk on your cunt, he couldn't get enough of you. He certainly wasn't letting you go after this.

"..'M close~ Itto- I-Itto 'tto~" You cry, breath caught in your chest, clit aching, pussy clenching over his fat cock. The water was hot, he was hot, your cunny aches and burns as he fucks you. A pretty little line of drool dribbles from your lips, Itto is quick to lick it up, shoving his tongue into your mouth. Your pussy clenches on him, your hips grind into his groin, your puffy clit aches and stings in the best way possible.

"..'M cumming- Ittoittoi-itto! Cummin-!" You squeal into his mouth, humping his fat cock into your cunny, somehow matching his impossible pace. Your pussy clenches his thick cock with your orgasm, squeezing his aching length so sweetly. Your lips kiss at his sloppily, hiccuping sweetly as you ride your high on his cock. Your orgasm spurs him on, fucking you with long, slow thrusts, bullying your cervix with his fat tip. He pressed in deep, groaning on your tongue, whispering sweet praises as he rides out your cunny. His fat cock shoots the thickest, creamiest ropes into your pussy, pulsing hotly with every spurt of his load.

When all is said and done, Itto runs his hands over your back, soothing your sweet hiccuping form. He kisses into your hair, giggling dopily, hugging your smaller frame and sinking further into the warm, steaming pool. You hum into his neck, nosing at his wet skin.

"My legs hurt" You snicker from your nose, lifting your head to place a firm kiss on his lips. He soothes his palms over your thighs, carefully lifting you, cradling you in his arms like a princess. Your head tucks against his chest, fingertips tracing over the thick red lines on his skin. Everything was warm, the steaming spring, Itto's skin, your heart. You relax into him, maybe coming along was a good idea.

You dread the trek down, maybe you can convince Itto to carry you. He huffs a short laugh and kisses your forehead. You hum, you don't think he'll need much convincing.

This... This was three thousand words I am so sorry

I just- I just think he's really really neat *sob*

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Thank You For Reading! Comments Are Always Appreciated! Ily ♡

♡KinkTober Taglist♡

@heath-sama @yejiswifex @hunnibunnix @bleh09 @madsw9 @py-schi @wizzardcatwithastick @shiningpaint-marbleheart @cherrytomato2 @i-am-silver @your-tears-taste-sweeter @kqzutcra @themusingsofmany @kaijubxnny

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[frownyalfred]

I just saw the ask saying they wanted the bats to be happy for a little bit, years not hours, and all I could think was that if all bats are happy for longer than 3 days, they become like predators without enrichment, and will cause so so many problems, like that post about noir detectives meeting alcohol and to cry in the shower because that's their natural habitat

Man, something about "I have a duty, I can't abandon it and rest" gets to me. Bruce and his kids deserve those moments of peace -- of existing as a family, without something driving them forward. But so much of what makes them who they are as adults is the mission. When you spend too long in motion, sudden stillness is agony. You're letting your city down, its people down.

[writing-mlm]

Hii I just found your blog actually and I love your stories,and uh,per say if I were to request a spencer reid x m reader where reader is a famous author and composer and whenever the team meets him it's pure chaos,just fluff in general actually. you don't have to do this if you don't want to of course! - Moony (shh it's a nickname that stuck)

Don't Spoil the Ending

Summary: Meeting your boyfriend's friends is a natural step but what isn't is them harassing you because you keep killing their favorite characters Pairing: Spencer Reid x Male reader W.C: 3k a/n: PLEASE I KNOW THIS TOOK ACTUAL YEARS IM SORRY oh and the walking dead spoilers ig

Whenever Spencer had one of his spells, whether that be his migraines or moments where the world just feels too much. Too heavy, too big, too scary, he went to your house. Your house, his escape from everything. A quaint home he could see himself moving into. 

A lovely one-bedroom, two-story home tucked into a hidden part of the city. There’s a small garden in the back, hardly filled with vegetables and mainly flowers. The front lawn, when he had first seen it, was mowed down to the dirt and replaced with various native plants. It didn’t take long for it to get to its current state, a lovely amalgamation of plants and wildlife that thrived in the almost cottage-looking home. 

He eyed the official state-provided Certified Wildlife Habitat sign that hung just in front of the property and let his messenger bag slump from his shoulder. There was no need to keep up appearances, not when you open the door and wait for him with a cup in hand. His mug. His mug you’d gotten him from the flea market on your first date and had remained in your house since the tenth date where he had to rush out for a case and never picked it back up. 

“Should I cancel with your team?” You ask, voice soft as he takes the mug and nearly inhales the tea. He looks at you, confused and you know then and there the headache is bad. “Your team is supposed to come over for dinner today.” Blinking, he sets the mug down on the shoe rack and kicks his shoes off. 

“No,” He sighs, his internal debate lasting nearly two whole minutes. “A nap and the rest of the tea should be fine.” It wouldn’t, you both know that but the dinner has been rescheduled twice already. Once due to the flu that was making its rounds through the entire team and another because you had an emergency to attend to. 

“Okay,” You hum, locking the door. He eyes each of the three locks and finds your hand. “Do you want to hear a specific symphony?” 

“Do you have anything new?” He asks, letting you guide him up the old wooden stairs to your bedroom. 

“I do,” You nod. “I learned some music from Howl’s Moving Castle.”

“For inspiration for the DreamWorks movie?” Nodding, he sits with his back pressed to your headboard and the blankets pulled up to his belt. 

“Remember to take off anything tight. So your belt, those socks, and such.” He smiles and nods, doing that as you leave the room and make your way down to the living room. Your piano is loud and sits at the perfect volume from your bedroom for his headaches. At night it’s amazing, the black-out curtains and the hidden glow-in-the-dark stickers around your room make him fall asleep in minutes. 

He listens as the steps creak and gets to work on getting himself comfortable. He should get up within the next two hours and help you prepare dinner for the team. But he doubts you’d actually wake him up on time for that and wait until everything is done so he could rest for as long as possible. 

Sipping the tea, he grabs his phone and sets a timer before placing it under the pillow. It’s silent but the vibrations will wake him up if you don’t. After doing that, he sets his things on the rocking chair and hears the starting notes of the music drifting up. He tries his best to focus on the music and not the notes themselves as he tucks himself into bed. 

—

He was right. 

He was absolutely right in that you wouldn’t wake him up. You even took away his phone when you went to check on him sometime later. He only woke up when he smelt the food coming from the oven and the loud ow you hissed when you bumped your forearm against the oven racks. 

He doesn’t bother to fix himself as he stuffs his feet into his house slippers and begins his descent down to the kitchen. 

“Aw, sorry, hun. I didn’t mean to wake you,” You call over your shoulder, hearing the banister creek under his hand. 

“You should’ve,” He chided while wiping the sleep from his eyes. His migraine is gone, which is honestly surprising. It must’ve been a terrible headache, then. Especially considering he doesn’t medicate for them anymore. “I was supposed to help you. You didn’t even let me buy groceries.” He frowns, staring at the array of food you’d made. 

“Please,” You dismiss, putting a damp cloth over your burnt forearm. “My brother came over while you slept and made half of it. New recipes for his restaurant.” Spencer looks at the fancy little labels on the trays; shawarma, broccoli cheddar potatoes, sun-dried tomato pasta, garlic bread, baked ziti, and lemon pepper chicken. 

“Did you already make the dessert? I can help with that,” He offers, scanning the counters. 

“You needed your rest, Spencer. Everything is already made and Derek said he’ll be here in ten. He’s picking up Penelope and Emily.” He stares at you and you stare back. “Fine. I haven’t finished cleaning the living room. Could you grab the extra chairs from the shed? Or grab the large tray from the cabinet and organize the brownie dip?”

“I got the brownie dip,” Heading out to the shed, you grab four foldable chairs and remind yourself to clean the dusty leather once you get back inside. You’d rearranged your entire living room and dining room for today. The couches, which used to be in a more closed position, were all shoved against the walls and the shelves you had were hidden away inside of your shed. Your coffee table, which Spencer vaguely remembered had different shapes, was out in its longest form and several coasters were scattered around. Not to mention plate mates stacked on the edge. 

He’s glad you left the wall decorations up, although he thinks you could’ve done without the framed picture of you and him at your cousin's wedding where he has cake smashed on his face and your fingers are covered in white frosting. You still deny doing that. 

“Like this?” He asks once you’re done cleaning the chairs. Peering over his shoulder, you rub along his hips and nod. 

“Looks perfect. Have you tried it yet?” He shakes his head and you grab a graham cracker and put some of the dip on it. He takes it and tries it, aware of your gaze on him. 

“It’s good.” He affirms and you nod, grabbing a strawberry and dipping it inside. 

“My nan used to make it when we were kids. It’s super good, but she added rainbow sprinkles.” The doorbell rings and Spencer goes upstairs to get himself properly dressed while you go to the door. 

“Hey, guys!” You greet them, their names popping into your head as you see them. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

“Your lawn is beautiful,” Penelope says as she hugs you, careful to not drop the dish she’s brought. You think it’s some type of finger food because it moves around. “How’d you get it like that?”

“Oh, thanks. It’s almost native plants. The bees and butterflies do most of the work.” Stepping aside, you greet Emily and Derek and check outside. There’s no one else so you close and lock the door. Just one lock so you don’t have to keep undoing it until everyone gets there. 

“This is lovely,” Emily says, her eyes taking in your home. She eyes the support beams and then the vintage wallpaper. “Aw, look at Spencer!” She laughs, staring at the picture from the wedding just as he’s coming down the stairs. His arm snakes around your waist and you hold his hand, eyeing their shoes. 

“Do you guys want some house slippers?” He asks for you and takes them to the closet where you keep them. You bought some new ones just for today. When they return the door rings again and this time Spencer gets the door while you set out the food. You’ve never really hosted before, so you awkwardly stand in the space between the dining room and living room until Spencer beckons you over. 

“This is Hotch and Jack, you’ve met JJ, her husband Will, and their sons. Henry and Michael. He introduces and you shake hands with the men and wave at the boys. 

“It’s good to see you again,” JJ says as she pulls you in for a hug. You’ve met her twice, once at the park accidentally and another while you both were hanging out with your sister and niece at the mall. 

“Likewise, please sit. The food is done so feel free to serve yourself.” 

She nods and she and Hotch set their food next to the rest of the food. She’d brought three bags of chips and Hotch had gotten ham and cheese sliders. Derek had made macaroni and cheese, Penelope brought over zucchini garlic bites, and Emily brought over two bottles of red wine. 

“This is a lovely house,” Will says as the two of you stand awkwardly, watching the others talk to each other. 

“Thank you. You have a lovely family,” He smiles over at them and nods. 

“Are you and Spencer ever gonna…” He trails and you suck in a breath. Your home isn’t exactly big enough for kids, maybe just you and Spencer. It’s not even ideal for hosting, but you made it work. 

“One day, maybe.” You answer, looking at him as he’s holding Henry. “We haven’t talked about that yet.” He nods and you get to leave when Rossi knocks on the door. 

“Am I the last one?” He asks upon hearing the noise. 

“They say the best is last, no?” He laughs and nods, presenting his famous pasta and you happily lead him to the food table. Some of the food is already gone and you see Spencer holding two plates. Making your way over to him, his eyes light up and he hands you one of the plates. 

“I noticed some of it was going quickly,” He explains as you take the plate. It’s piled in neat forms, none of the food touching each other. “So, I made you what I thought you’d like.” Thanking him, you drag him to a seat and everyone settles down with their plates. 

Turning the TV on, you put on a random show and tune the conversation going on around you. 

“This is really good,” JJ says, pointing her fork at the broccoli cheese potatoes. 

“Is it?” You ask and get an enthusiastic yes from Jack. “I’m allergic to broccoli so I’ve never actually tried it.” 

“Aw man, you’re missing out.” Derek sighs, rubbing his stomach after he’d eaten three of them and you laugh, twirling the plastic fork around the Rossi pasta. 

“(Y/n)’s brother owns a restaurant, he’s thinking of adding those to the menu.” Spencer explains and you nod, putting the fork down. 

“It’s called Bun-Apple Tea. He’s thinking of adding those, the tomato pasta, and the baked ziti to his menu. I’m usually his test subject but he appreciates the wider audience.” 

“Oh, he should add it.” Will says. He’s been busy feeding Michael bites of the garlic bread while also feeding himself the macaroni and cheese. “I took JJ there once, she loved it.” She nods and recounts the experience and your eyes widen. 

“I worked that day!” You admit. “I was playing some music, were you the couple that had ordered the mushroom soup and the couple next to you tried to steal it?” 

“Oh my god, yes!” She laughs. “You were playing the piano, right?” You nod and tell the story to the others.

“Spencer mentioned you’re a writer, too, right?” Hotch asks. 

“I am,” Sheepishly, you look at Spencer. He smiles at you, not even sorry that he talks to his friends about you and your jobs. “I mainly write young adult fiction but I’ve started writing science fiction.” You elaborate. 

“One of his books is getting a TV show.” Spencer easily boasts and everyone congratulates you. “He’s also going to be the lead composer for it.”

“That’s amazing.” Emily says. “What book is it?”

“It’s one of my series; The Walking Dead. It was also a comic book for a special edition my publisher did.” The conversations devolve until you get up for a second plate of food from the kitchen. Spencer follows you with a large grin and fixes himself some more juice. 

“They like you,” He says and you look over at him. “I knew they would, of course.” He adds. “But this… wow. We should have a watch party for when the show comes out.”

“Maybe.”

—

“Ahh! My friend made this!” Penelope shouts as she shakes your shoulder. The first episode of The Walking Dead was set to air in just a couple of seconds and as Spencer predicted; it turned into a watch party.

It’s been nearly a year since the first time you’ve met them and you’ve been busy composing and having the final say over most of the show. Spencer sometimes tags along, giving his opinion on how certain things would look from a scientific standpoint. But there’s a lot of far-fetched imagination when it comes to zombies and what people could do. 

You think he just likes learning from the design crew on how they do things. He does. But he also likes seeing your book come to life, remembering each detail, and having people fix them without you noticing. 

Everything had come to fruition after several months of working and pitching ideas, not to mention filming and creating sets. 

You’re all at JJ’s house, scattered amongst the floor with the boys upstairs asleep. You’d warned them it’s definitely not suitable for them just yet and they trusted that. 

“This opening is good.” Derek says and you thank him. You want to tell him it was you and Bear McCreary who helped compose and Dominik Hauser who helped perform it with you but you don’t think he cares all that much. 

Spencer lays his head on your shoulder and you wrap your arm around him, happily watching the show that you know is going to ruin them forever. You’re glad they haven’t read the books, because damn. You look at all these faces that don’t make it to the final chapter and wonder how mad they’re going to be when their favorite will inevitably die. 

And boy, did they hate you. 

By the end of season one they all but refused to tell you their favorite characters. Never mind the story has been written and you couldn’t change it. Penelope would send you voicemails crying whenever she watched an episode early, yelling at you for killing her favorite character or someone who definitely didn’t deserve it. You made it up to her by being able to let her meet the actors during Comic Con the same year. 

Spencer, on the other hand, knows everything. They’ll pester him at work for spoilers and he’d just shrug. 

“I don’t remember who died.” He tells Morgan one day. 

“You remember what you ate for breakfast when you were ten. You know who dies this season! Who is it?” Derek demands, following Spencer out of the bullpen and into the elevator. 

“I know,” Emily grins.

“How?” Derek asks, his gaze accusing Spencer of spilling the beans to her but not to him. 

“It was a book first, genius,” She reminds him and shrugs. “I got tired of waiting and just read the book for this reason.” Stepping into the elevator Derek groans. He’s not going to read the book. 

“How’d you like it?” Spencer asks and she groans, throwing her head back. 

“It was so good! The deaths hurt like a bitch.” She explains and he laughs. 

“His sister blocked him for a month for killing this one character.” He explains and she nods, that’s completely justified. 

The elevator doors open and they spot you waiting at the front of the building, holding a cup of coffee and talking to JJ. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” He kisses your forehead as your conversation comes to a natural stop. 

“Sup,” Handing him the coffee, you greet the others. “I got your email Derek, and I’m not telling you.” You all walk outside and Derek pushes your head. 

“I’ll just read the book.” He turns his nose up and you hum.

“This book took Spencer twenty minutes to read.”

“Damn. How long is the audiobook?”

“About thirty-six hours,” Spencer answers. “Thirty-five hours and fifty-two minutes long.”

“Oh, hell no. I’ll wait,” 

“I couldn’t.” JJ sighs. “I finished the book last night.” He huffs and leaves the group, heading to his car. The others laugh and also split up leaving just you and Spencer. 

“They’re not ready for Carl’s death.” He tells you, a hint of a smile on his face. 

“You certainly weren’t,” You snicker, grabbing him by his wrist. “Now let’s hurry, I still need your opinion on suits for the award show.”

—

“You’re hurting my ears,” You tell Emily as she plays your piano in all the wrong ways. “My poor baby is being abused by you, I hope you know that. You monster.”

“What about me?” Penelope grins, playing your violin. 

“You’re actually killing me. The two of you are going to become murderers at this rate.” She frowns and checks her fingers on the violin before playing one actual note. “That was good. But I can also see JJ about to pick up my trombone and that thing was my very first instrument so she should put it down.” Carefully, she sets it back in the case and Spencer comes down the stairs with Derek close behind. 

“Oh, are we playing?” Derek asks and b-lines for the cello you have. 

“They’re killing me,” You mumble to Spencer at the base of the stairs. Neither of you are hiding your expressions, not even when JJ joins Emily on the bench and they play horrid— horrid sounds. 

“I’m about to spoil the Glenn death to get them to stop.” You whisper, staring at Penelope as she pressed too hard on the strings and winced. 

“Don’t,” He gasps. “They’ll never recover.”

“Good. Neither will my ears after this torture!”

[reasonsforhope]

"There are now more golden lion tamarins bounding between branches in the Brazilian rainforest than at any time since efforts to save the species started in the 1970s, a new survey reveals.

Once on the brink of extinction, with only about 200 animals in the wild, the population has rebounded to around 4,800, according to a study released Tuesday by the Brazilian science and conservation nonprofit Golden Lion Tamarin Association.

“We are celebrating, but always keeping one eye on other threats, because life’s not easy,” said the nonprofit’s president, Luís Paulo Ferraz.

Golden lion tamarins are small monkeys with long tails and copper-colored fur that live in family groups led by a mated pair. Usually, they give birth annually to twins, which all family members help to raise by bringing them food and carrying them on their backs.

The monkeys, which live only in Brazil’s Atlantic Forest, are still considered endangered.

The population survey was conducted over roughly a year. Researchers went to specific locations and checked whether monkeys responded to recordings of the tamarins’ long call, which basically means “I’m here. Are you there?” said James Dietz, a biologist and vice president of the U.S.-based nonprofit Save the Golden Lion Tamarin.

The new population figures are notable because the species had experienced a sharp decline from a yellow fever outbreak. In 2019, there were 2,500 monkeys, down from 3,700 in a 2014 survey.

Scientists intervened by vaccinating more than 370 monkeys against yellow fever, using shots adapted from a formula for humans — a fairly novel approach for conservation.

Scientists “cannot pinpoint a single exact cause for the recovery,” but believe several factors may be at play, said Carlos R. Ruiz-Miranda, a State University of Northern Rio de Janeiro biologist who advised on the population study.

Firstly, the yellow fever outbreak has subsided, perhaps due to a combination of the virus’ natural cycle and the vaccination campaign.

The animals may also be benefiting from an increase in forest habitat, said Dietz, who is also a research associate at the Smithsonian Institution’s Conservation Biology Institute. Between 2014 and 2022, the amount of connected forest habitat increased 16%, mostly through forests regrown on converted cattle pasture, he said.

Currently about three dozen farmers and ranchers in the Atlantic Forest region participate in such reforestation programs.

“It makes me so happy to see the tamarins playing free on my farm. They don’t only live in protected areas,” said Ayrton Violento, a farmer and entrepreneur in the small city of Silva Jardim. His family’s Fazenda dos Cordeiros has planted native fruit trees and also manages a tree nursery for native Atlantic Forest seedlings to plant on other farms.

“Recently, every year I see more tamarin families, more frequently,” he said."

-via AP News, August 1, 2023

[a-fantastic-time]

Al-Slime-chemist! (Open D&D RP)

Juvia had left her natural habitat in hopes of giving her people a better reputation. Slimes, Oozes, and even her own kind Plasmoids had a bad rap among more solid-folk. So she dawned a more humanoid appearance, and used what clothes and gear she had gathered from fallen adventurers to make herself seem more appropriate to what she thought sentient species would find appealing.

She made her way to the nearest capital city and applied to become an adventurer at the guild there. She had found that she had a knack for magic and postions, using her own slime as the bases for much of it. Thinking that if she made it know that slimes were more useful than just cleaning sewers, that maybe people would see them in a better light. She had gotten a letter to meet up with a potential party, and rushed to meet [your muse/muses] at the designated locations.

"HI! I am Juvia, your Al-Slime-chemist!~ Hope we can work together swimmingly."

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Summer Fling Part 2/10

Part 1 Part 3

Summary - Reader has landed a research job at a marine biology lab in Portugal. She is, therefore, staying with her sister and her sister's Portuguese boyfriend for the summer holidays. There, she meets Ruben Dias, who is on vacation with his friends after the 2024 Euros. However, the two meet under the circumstances in which Ruben believes that Reader is a prostitute.

Enjoy! ☀️

Who would have thought that after a night out and several rounds of drinks, you still weren't able to turn your sleep schedule around. Apparently, you left Australia, but Australia refused to leave you, resulting in another night of laying on your back and admiring the sealing.

"Fuck, Diogo!"

"Right there!"

"Yes, right there!"

"Ohhhh God!"

However, even if you did turn your sleep schedule around, falling asleep to the sounds of your sister getting her back blown by her boyfriend would've simply been impossible.

"Yes, Diogo. Yeeees!"

You covered your ears with your hands and prayed for better times. But when that didn't work, you got out of bed, hopped in the shower, and left the house.

Diogo didn't live too far from the city of Albufeira. You and your sister were too drunk to make it back to Faro last night. Staying with him was the most convenient thing to do. You made it back downtown by hopping on a train. However, there wasn't much to see in the morning since it was still early hours. Street sweepers were seen cleaning up the aftermath of last night's partying, and soon tourists and their family's would make their way down the white sandcastle hills, exploring another day in paradise.

"One ticket to the Zoomarine, please."

You got pretty bored of lounging around the streets like a hungover hobo. The next best thing to do was to buy a ticket to the Algarve Zoomarine, a water park with live dolphin shows and displays of marine life. As a kid, you used to love visiting these types of places in Australia. However, after years of education, you saw these places for what they really were. Animal crime scenes.

You sat in on one of the dolphin shows but couldn't last ten minutes before abandoning your seat. It was simply a disgrace to see those poor animals forced to do tricks and interact with humans. All for the sake of being given fish as a treat.

"They're pretty amazing, no? Those blue puffer fish."

You came to mourn the Portuguese marine life while admiring a giant aquarium. When suddenly, a man, blonde and blue eyes, startled you. Even more so when he spoke to you with an Australian accent.

"Yes, amazing indeed." You said. "But these puffer fish should be set free in the wild, not swim around in some aquarium pool in the middle of a tourist trap."

"I don't know...." The man scratched the cap he wore on top of his head. If you hadn't been so full of yourself, you might have noticed that the text on his cap read: Algarve marine life rescue and research. "Setting these bad boys free in the wild might be more dangerous than it is for us to keep them here," the man said.

"That doesn't make any sense. All animals should be set free to live in their natural habitat."

"Well, that I agree." He smiled. "However, these particular puffer fishes are used to help produce antidotes for tetrodotoxin. It's actually ongoing research."

"You're a marine biologist?" You frowned.

The man's smile widened. "Most of us working at the park are. If not in the ocean, the best place to house our underwater friends is surprisingly in this water park."

"Oh." Heat rose to your face.

"I'm glad to see a fellow animal activist, though. Whereabouts are you from? I know an Aussie accent when I hear one."

"Sydney." You blushed. "I'm from Sydney Australia."

"Brisbane." The man offered you his hand. You shook it vigorously.

"Are you just here for the summer holidays or...?" The man's accent was suddenly flourishing.

"Yes and no. I'm actually a marine biologist myself."

"Are you now?" He regarded you curiously, his smile even wider now, which you didn't think possible.

"Well, I'm still doing my masters in marine ecology. That's actually why I'm here in Portugal this summer, to finish my research in a lab not too far from here."

"In Faro?"

"How did you know?"

"Well, I believe it's the only known marine biology lab in the Algarve region."

"Really?"

"Yes, at least the only known lab that would take on a young woman like yourself. The other labs consist of snobby middle-aged men who wouldn't care to advocate for the innocent life of puffer fishes."

"Interesting. I must have gotten lucky then."

"I doubt it. I pick my students carefully. Your research portfolio must have been stellar."

"Wait—"

The man removed the cap from his head, revealing his bleach blonde hair and surprisingly young face. "I'm Gavin Philips, and I believe to be your lab partner for this summer."

"Lab....partner?" You hesitated to shake the man's hand again, however, he insisted.

"Labpartner, examinator, professor....most students just call me Gavin."

"Gavin."

"Yes, and what might your name be?"

"Erm...it's Y/N."

"Pleasure meeting you Y/N. I look forward to working with you this summer."

"Erm...thank you."

What a coincidence, you thought, during your train ride home. To meet the man with the power to decide your future as a marine biologist was definitely not on your summer bingo card. He seemed like a nice guy, though. And you had the Australia connection, which was perhaps a good thing, knowing how things could get when working in a male dominated setting. You were in need of an ally, and Gavin Phillips might just be the right guy for the job.

"There she is! Y/N, where the hell have you been all day?"

You were welcomed back by your sister and Diogo, both looking dressed for a day at the beach. Diogo, with his mountains for muscles, carried several bags from the house to his car, a luxurious Range Rover.

"What do you mean? It's barely noon." You said.

"Yes, but Diogo is taking us to Lagos today. Didn't I tell you that?"

"No, no you didn't."

"Well, I'm telling you now. Go pack your bags and don't forget to pack an extra pair of G-strings."

"Great."

You were set for another day in party paradise. However, five days had passed since your flight from Sydney, and you still hadn't gotten an ounce of a proper night's sleep.

Part 1 Part 3

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - June 13, 2023

1. U.S. judge blocks Florida ban on care for trans minors in narrow ruling, says ‘gender identity is real’

A federal judge temporarily blocked portions of a new Florida law that bans transgender minors from receiving puberty blockers, ruling Tuesday that the state has no rational basis for denying patients treatment.

Transgender medical treatment for minors is increasingly under attack in many states and has been subject to restrictions or outright bans. But it has been available in the United States for more than a decade and is endorsed by major medical associations.

2. Eagle Who Thought Rock Was an Egg Finally Gets to Be a Dad

A week after their introduction the cage where the little eaglet was put, was removed so the two could interact more closely. When they were given food, a whole fish for Murphy and bite-sized pieces for his young charge, rather than each eating their separate dish, Murphy took his portion and ripped it up to feed to the baby.

3. Little penguins to reclaim Tasmanian car park as city-based population thrives

Not far from the centre of Tasmania's fourth largest city, a colony of the world's smallest penguins has been thriving, and their habitat is about to expand into an existing car park.

The bright lights and loud noises of Burnie have not been a deterrent for hundreds of penguins who set up home on the foreshore in the north-west Tasmanian city.

4. Latest population survey yields good news for endangered vaquita porpoise

The resilient little vaquita marina appears determined to survive the illegal fishing that has brought it dangerously close to extinction, according to the latest population survey. Despite an estimated annual decline of 45% in 2018, the endangered porpoise appears to be holding steady over the last five years, according to a report published Wednesday by the International Union for Conservation of Nature.

5. 'Extinct' butterfly species reappears in UK

The species, previously described as extinct in Britain for nearly 100 years, has suddenly appeared in countryside on the edge of London. Small numbers of black-veined whites have been spotted flying in fields and hedgerows in south-east London. First listed as a British species during the reign of King Charles II, they officially became extinct in Britain in 1925.

This month they have mysteriously appeared among their favourite habitat: hawthorn and blackthorn trees on the edge of London, where I and other naturalists watched them flitting between hedgerows.

6. Colombian is a hero in Peru: he rescued 25 puppies that were about to die in a fire

During a structural fire that occurred in a residential area of ​​Lima in Peru, a young Colombian became a hero. The Colombian, identified as Sebastián Arias, climbed onto the roof where the puppies were and threw them towards the community, that was waiting for them with sheets and mattresses. "I love them, dogs fascinate me," said the young man.

7. World-first trial for pediatric brain cancer

Researchers in Australia are conducting a world-first clinical trial for children diagnosed with ependymoma, a rare and devastating brain cancer. The trial aims to test a new drug called Deflexifol, which combines chemotherapy drugs 5-FU and leucovorin, offering potentially less toxic and more effective treatment compared to current options.

Ependymoma is the third most common brain tumor in children, and current treatments often lead to relapses, with a high fatality rate for those affected. The trial, led by researcher David Ziegler at the Kids Cancer Centre, has received support from the Kids with Cancer Foundation and the Cancer Institute NSW. The goal is to find a cure for every child diagnosed with ependymoma.

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That's it for this week :)

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