#or the lamb lays eggs?????

[shentheauthor]

WHAT IS HAPPENING HJFJBKDKBMEKDL

[luckytidbit]

I’m very excited for all those play throughs on the 16th

[universefrogg]

I couldn't help but think of Jojo bizarre adventures weird lil collaboration LOL

This thing LMAO

[sixteenseveredhands]

Wool-Carder Bees: these solitary bees harvest the soft, downy hairs that grow on certain plants, rolling them into bundles and then using the material to line their nests

Wool-carder bees build their nests in existing cavities, usually finding a hole/crevice in a tree, a plant stem, a piece of rotting wood, or a man-made structure, and then lining the cavity with woolly plant fibers, which are used to form a series of brood cells.

The fibers (known as trichomes) are collected from the leaves and stems of various plants, including lamb’s ear (Stachys byzantina), mulleins, globe thistle, rose campion, and other fuzzy plants.

From the University of Florida's Department of Entomology & Nematology:

The female uses her toothed mandibles to scrape trichomes off fuzzy plants and collects a ball of the material under her abdomen. She transports these soft plant fibers to her selected nest site and uses them to line a brood cell. Next, she collects and deposits a provision of pollen and nectar into the cell, enough pollen to feed a larva until it is ready to pupate. Lastly, she lays a single egg on top of the pollen and nectar supply before sealing the cell. ... She will repeat this process with adjoining cells until the cavity is full.

These are solitary bees, meaning that they do not form colonies or live together in hives. Each female builds her own nest, and the males do not have nests at all.

Female wool-carder bees will sometimes sting if their nest is threatened, but they are generally docile. The males are notoriously aggressive, however; they will often chase, head-butt, and/or wrestle any other insect that invades their territory, and they may defend their territory from intruders up to 70 times per hour. The males do not have stingers, but there are five tiny spikes located on the last segment of their abdomen, and they often use those spikes when fighting. They also have strong, sharp mandibles that can crush other bees.

There are many different types of wool-carder bee, but the most prolific is the European wool-carder (Anthidium manicatum), which is native to Europe, Asia, and North Africa, but has also become established as an invasive species throughout much of North America, most of South America, and New Zealand. It is the most widely distributed unmanaged bee in the world.

A few different species of wool-carder bee: the top row depicts the European wool-carder, A. manicatum (left) and the spotted wool-carder, Anthidium maculosum (right), while the bottom row depicts the reticulated small-woolcarder, Pseudoanthidium reticulatum, and Porter's wool-carder, Anthidium porterae

Sources & More Info:

University of Florida: The Woolcarder Bee

Oregon State University: European Woolcarder Bees

Bohart Museum of Entomology: Facts about the Wool Carder Bee (PDF)

Bumblebee Conservation Trust: A. manicatum

World's Best Gardening Blog: European Wool Carder Bees - Likeable Bullies

Biological Invasions: Global Invasion by Anthidium manicatum

[donutfloats]

In cult of the lamb the cultists have children via laying eggs, your headcanon is this a normal part of the universe or is it done via magic?

They have babies the ol fashioned mammalian way

I understand why the game has them have eggs, it’s easier gameplay wise plus there’s non-mammal animal followers

Sure, they can have eggs, but for the mammals? Nah

Granted, if a mammal and non-mammal were to have a baby, maybe magic would be needed to help influence

Who knows lol I haven’t thought that far ahead

[muntitled]

𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐚

Pairings: Jaemin Na x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Jaemin Na, the dashing yet ambitious magnate, is tired of playing the toll as a silent stakeholder. He wants your father's business. He wants the whole thing, even if it means seducing the boss's daughter to get it.

Warning: Business Rivals to Fwb to lovers, Toxic Family Relationship, Violence, Business politics, Businessman AU, Forbidden Relationship, Slight Angst, Male Manipulation, Manipulation tactics, Smut (+18) Minors dni, Daddy Kink, Degradation Kink, Rough Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Ownership Kink, DDLG, Fingering, Spitting, Marking, Bruises, Grinding, Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex.

A/N: My third NCT Dream fic! They're truly my favorite group, so I plan on writing more for them. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this. Excuse me while I project my daddy kink onto Jaemin. Im sorry, but my bias fuels it way too much. You all saw that live, right?... THAT one live. Iykyk. Anyway, he's so daddy coded, okay bye.

The moon is high, and the night is deep when you find yourself quite literally being paraded around a bustling open reception. Goldleaf and tinsel wrap around the off-white columns, veneering the room in a deep but faintly expensive sepia tone. Despite the hatred festering in your bones, you did have to admit that the clubhouse in the very center of a highly competitive Country Club did make for a good party reception indeed. Nestling all of 100 dapper guests, 100 partners, wives and mistresses, and 100 wallets, to sink their wrinkled hands into.

Your father did know how to throw a party, you'd certainly give the man that. That is all you give him, however. That is all the grace he deserves.

Despite the tempest of emotions in your veins, the laughter you emit to the group surrounding the small appetizer's table is static and robotic, and anything but genuine. It pitters politely out of your lips as you raise the flute of shampagne, hoping to disguise just how fucking annoyed you actually were.

"You'll do well to remember the name," your father proclaims before laying a hand on your back as he pushes you closer into the circle of suited men - a lamb to the proverbial slaughter.

"She's going to be running things once I retire," a Jazz number played by a live band is not enough to drown out the influx of chatter that spreads throughout the main hall of the Clubhouse at the news of your father's retirement. You could practically here the thinning lips salivate at the very sound of it: The emperor, stepping down, leaving his empire vulnerable to the raiders.

"I feel proud and so unbelievably lucky to have such a reliable line of succession." Says your father, "When I'm six foot under, I'll know that Neo Tech is safe in her hands-"

A snicker escapes, likely concocted by the decent amount of alcohol in your blood, "Although that time isn't coming soon enough!" Your statement allows for a grand chuckle to fall across the table where you all stood, nursing your deviled eggs and bacon-wrapped asparagus.

The display is that of good-natured jest between a father and daughter to the guests around you, clad in ambercrombie suits and Alexander Mcqueen gowns.

Your father, however, slithers a hand onto your shoulder, squeezing all too hard as he laughs statically.

You can feel the warning in his calloused grip. A stern threat...

Not too much, it cautioned.

The action, though seemingly innocent and fleeting to the rest of the table, draws the attention of a man whose countenance had been sparse and dismisive the entire evening. Despite this being a private gathering for your father's most trusted stakeholders and their partners, Jaemin had been far from interested in attending.

Once, he was made privy to the knowledge that this was a retirement celebration, however... that changed things, and Jaemin threw on his jet black Armani blazer over a silky unisex blouse that stretched across his chest.

He admits that he made his attendance out of greed. Having to save face and play the roll of the responsibile stakeholder before he was truly able to pillage your father's company right from underneath him. If that meant entertaining the degenerate conversation of greying white men with viagra prescriptions and a cocaine addiction, then so be it.

"It truly is a shame that I have to take something from someone as promising as yourself." He whispers to himself over the rim of his own champagne flute, his darkened eyes stationed on you. It was difficult not to stare, when you were being hounded by business associates, men and women alike, eager to ascertain how they might win the hand of the queen.

A silk gown drips like the liquidfied night sky down your curves, spilling on the floor around what Jaemin imagined to be ample, soft thighs - something he could sink his fingers into, sink his teeth into-

You're chuckling very fakely at something an investor said at a round cocktail table nearby. Although what really gets Jaemin's blood rushing through his arteries is the sight of your father dragging you away from the main hall, up a spiraling stair case. Jaemin prided himself on minding his business. This came second nature to him.

What he could not ignore, however, was the slight alarm, marring the scowl along your soft face. Nothing could spoil your perfect makeup, but the frown he caught a glimpse of before you disappeared was enough.

Jaemin almost immediately found his Hilfiger loafers leading him down the path you had just walked. He downed the golden liquid in his flute and, never breaking eye contact from the spiral staircase, placed the glass on the tray of a mobile waiter. He wiped the access champagne off his lips, quite barbarically, with the sleeves of his blazer as he emerged into the main foyer.

Immediately, a hiss of conversation could be heard from the mezzanine above.

"-the hands of the company! Do you understand how important this is?! How fucking ungrateful you are-"

"Not to interrupt," Jaemin speaks, slyly climbing the stairs as he stuffed his hand into the pocket of his dress pants. The look your father thows him is absolutely villanizing.

Instead of shying away, however, you swallow thickly to note a slow sick sort of smirk curling onto Jaemin's face.

"Who the fuck are you?" Instead of sparing your father any look at all, Jaemin's gaze is solidified on your father's violent grip on your forearm.

"You don't know who he is?" You ask your father, marginally shocked but not at all surprised as Jaemin neared the two of you.

"That's okay, that's okay," he says, letting the gleaming smirk stay solid across his face, "My father sends his greetings, by the way" Jaemin says, "I didn't wish for our 45% share not to be represented at such a monumental event."

Therein lies the very first signs of embarrassment around your father's face. He begrudgingly removes his grip from your forearm but does not leave before he quickly tacks on, "Excuse me, Mr Na, but this is a private conversation -"

Jaemin is already lifting his hand, his Rolex gleaming under the crystal chandelier as he casually says, "Important enough to miss an audience with your shareholders? Everyone is asking for you, big man." Jaemin replies smoothly, "You are still the boss, right?"

Then, and only then does Jaemin exchange the very first real bit if eye contact with you tnh entire evening, and God strike you dead if it did not release an influx of warm, sputtering butterflies with molten wings in the pit of your stomach. You're still glidd to his side. The successor cradled tightly to her Daddy's arm.

"We'll finish this later," Your father hisses in your ear before stepping back and giving Jaemin one final nod. His disappearance births an uncomfortable heat and even more uncomfortable silence in the mezzanine. Jaemin does nothing but watch you with a tilted head and a near constant smirk.

"Hi." He says cheekily, all of the seriousness in his voice gone as he begins to move closer to you. You only roll your eyes before turning around to scour for a free room in the clubhouse. He follows cooly and calmly.

"Stop staring at my ass," you chide, pushing open a heavy door before switching on the light.

"Nah," Jaemin follows you inside. "Don't tell me what to do,"

He turns to peer down the corridor with one raised eyebrow before effectively sealing the door shut. You had led the both of you into one of the very many guest suites peppered across the Clubhouse. Jaemin is remarkably pleased to notice how your inhibitions immediately melt away. Your shoulders relax as you kick off your red bottomed heels, letting them land lazily in a corner.

"You haven't told him have you?" His voice is stable but rumbles like a heavy cloud throughout the room.

You evade eye contact as you quickly walk up to him, beginning to splay tiny kisses around his exposed neck.

"No, Jaemin," Your breathe fans across his exposed skin as you undo thr little bow of the silk blouse, "I did not tell my father about your plans to rape his company," You push down his blazer and he lets you. Watching you with a piercing glare as a deep, warm, pool of lust begins to grow in your core at the very sight of how big he truly is.

"Would you rather he find out on the day?" He asks, still letting you undress him as if he was a lifeless piece of him. "I know you're evil but that evil-"

"Fuck, you're so hot," Jaemin's cock stirs, as it always did, when that needy sort of whine pushed itself out the confines of your throat. You knew what buttons to push, to get the reaction you wanted. Tonight, however, would prove to be a much different occasion.

"How long do you plan on waiting?" You're nails are dragging itself down the front of his muscled body. Before you can reach his cock, already causing a bulge in his dress pants, Jaemin roughly grabs at your wrist.

"I said. How long do you plan on waiting?" Despite the calmness in his voice, Jaemin's grip on your wrist is unrelenting. It is rough, and it is violent, and it makes your father's earlier grip on your forearm feel like a child's play.

"Fucking forever, Jaemin! Jesus!" You burst in a flurry of rage and lust and frustration. "I will wait until forever it means I won't get outed as a shit daughter and a fucking rat, Jaemin!"

He tilts his head as he smiles and cooly says, "Watch that tone."

But he's already got you going, and you're finally letting out the feelings that had only been building for the duration of an entire, hellish evening. "Can you even begin to understand how I feel?! I know you want this company, but -"

"But?" Jaemin asks in a sing-song voice before pulling you closer by your wrist. He dips his head down, folding his tall frame over as he tilts your head up. "There shouldn't be a but, baby." The words are veneered in a lustful whisper as he finally places his lips to your throat.

"With me, it's either all or nothing." Now it's Jaemin's turn to slowly drag his hands up the side of your curves. He lets the tips of his fingers tease the fabric as he smoothes his hand over your chest. Your resolve explodes, and you melt right into him, as his hand makes its way up your throat. His palm enclosing the spot where his lips have just been.

"I hate seeing you like that, baby. I hate seeing you glued to his side when you should be glued to mine."

You're faintly aware that you're both mobile now. Not knowing which way is up and which is down as your back presses against a wall.

"He's..." you swallow thickly as Jaemin slips down the soft fabric of your dress. Your exposed shoulder is immediately assaulted by his reign of wet and drunken kisses.

As he tongues at the skin, Jaemin makes sure to look up at you. Siren eyes under thick eyebrows as he pushes the fabric all the way down until your dress is pooling at your feet and you're left in nothing but your Fenty underwear.

"He's family." You applaud yourself mentally for having the brain capacity to formulate all of two words. That celebration, however, immediately falls short when Jaemin snickers. He pulls back, turning his head slightly as his tongue stabs the inside of his mouth before swinging his head back to you.

"You always tell me you only have one, Daddy, don't you?"

A deep, angry heat blossoms around your skin as you evade eye contact. "Jesus, Jaemin."

"Jaemin?" He mocks, before pushing you back further onto wall.

"Is that who I am to you?"

"That is your name, yes." Your confidence waver when his hands begin to push down the straps of bra. He undoes the clasps as he says, "Interesting. So then, i guess, my name wasnt Jaemin, when i fucked you on a nalcony in Mykonos? Got it."

He's quick to push your panties down far enough so that he's forcing his fingers between your legs. The gasp you emit is almost painful as you immediately buck your hips into his hand. “Fuck-”

“You cum on my hand, correct?”

“F-Fuck,” he lets you hump lazily into his palm and you all but whimper as your begin to yearn for him to fuck you with his long digits.

“You cum on my hand. You cum on my cock. Only I can do that for you, baby”

“God, yes, Daddy.”

Jaemin has to physically stop himself from not pulling his pants down and fucking your brains right right and there. Those words leaving your mouth did something animalistic to him- scratching a very archaic part of his monkey brain that let him know that you needed him. You needed him to reach orgasm, you needed him to fuck you to feel good. You needed him.

“You don't need anyone else, but me, right baby?”

You're so dangerously close to the edge, your vision blurring with your oncoming orgasm as you reply, “You, Daddy- only you.”

His cock is pushing painfully against dress pants and Jaemin swear as he pulls his blouse over his head. Your breathing grows even more precipitous when you see his torso in all its big and gleaming glory.

“need you so bad,” you mumble, still pushing your hips out even though his hand has disappeared and there's nothing there.

“Yeah?” He asks, pulling his cock out without breaking eye contact, “You need Daddy’s cock, don't you, sweetheart?”

“I need it,” you whisper and watch as your words affect him in ways you had not seen before.

Jaemin’s eyes are blown into saucers while the tips of his brown hair is drenched in sweat. Gone is the cockiness. Gone is the smirk. He only brings a cupped hand up to your mouth as he orders you to, “Spit.”

Almost without thinking about it, you do just that, and Jaemin watches with an open mouth as he begins to stroke his himself with your wetness. He throws his head back in a broken amalgamation of a moan and a gasp, and you're only left to watch while your hand almost subconsciously moves down your own body.

The sound of your wetness brings Jaemin back to the mission at hand as he lolls his head forward. The sight of you fucking yourself, knuckles deep, as your eyes zero in on his hand, has him immediately pushing you against the wall.

“You're such a fucking slut-” He hisses and you moan as he pulls your hand up to his mouth. “Did Daddy teach you to be a slut?” and when you fail to respond he only says, “Answer me,” he says cooly, “Did I teach you to be a slut, or a good girl?”

You have truly reached a stalemate. Not knowing what to say that might garner a favourable response. Dread pools in your tummy and Jaemin only watches as go to war with yourself. The conflict in your eye is present and raw.

All is quiet as Jaemin bends down slowly and that signature smirk curls at the end of his lips.

“Cute.” He whispers before crashing his lips against yours.

Your hands enclose around the back of Jaemin's hand as he effortlessly picks you up off the ground, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. He pushes you up against the wall and the immediate contact of your dripping pussy pressed against his skin has you both moaning and groaning into the kiss.

“So fucking cute...” He whispers before easing his cock right into you, “You're so fucking tight- fuck-” the wind sounds like it has been knocked clean out of him as he begins to fuck you with harsh, violent thrusts.

“That's it, pretty girl,”

You can hear the smile in his voice and you fight to open your eyes. If there was one thing that got you even wetter it was the sight of Jaemin just managing a lazy open-mouth smile as he forced his cock into your cunt. It stings and hurts but the pleasure in his hooded eyes make the experience all the more worth it.

Jaemin clenches his jaw together as he leans down until you're both forehead to forehead.

“That man downstairs isn't your Daddy, is he?” His eyes dare you to disagree with him but all you do us shake your head as you say, “You. You're my Da- oh God.”

“I'll take that title too,” he chuckles before pushing his face into the crook of your neck as he sped up his pace. Jaemin fucks hard and rough and you claw mindlessly at his back. He loves it. You know he does because his cock is twitching inside of you and you know he's close.

“Fuck-Daddy, please!”

Your begging nearly sends him over the edge but he still manages to keep his thrusts hard and unrelenting. “You gonna cum for me, Princess?”

“F-Fuck yes, Sir-”

“You're not gonna keep me a secret, are you? Promise me. ” You knew what he was doing, forcing you into a mental state of complete disrepair as he bullied his cock into your cunt.

“F-Fuck," he hisses, "Answer me, baby- ‘mgonna fill your cunt so fucking fast,” he breathes out, before throwing his head back again.

“Promise!” You grit out, “I promise-” almost immediately, your orgasm washes over you eliciting wave after wave of delicious pleasure that has your mind rumbling.

“F-Fuck you're so tight- Fuck, Fuck, fuck-!” He exclaims before he's emptying himself inside of you. He's fucking you with the stamina of a caveman as he forces his seed all the way inside. “God you're so sexy, you know that?” He says, with his eyes still clenched shut as his aftershocks pass through his body. “So fucking hot.”

While his mind soars on the wings of his orgasm, that post nut clarit crashes through gradually. You breathe out steadily as you stare into nothingness. “I can't believe I gave our family company away like that,”

A hand is quick to pull you by the chin until you're looking up at him. Even with his wet and matted hair, along with the beads of sweat growing pregnant on his brow, Jaemin remains ever handsome. His smile ever present.

“It's still the family business, Honey.” Jaemin smirks, “Our family.”

♡♡♡ if you made it this far, thanks for reading

[faeriekit]

I’m writing this only to excise this from my body.

TIM (& DICK) ACCIDENTALLY START THE BATFAM AU!!!

So. Recently dropped out from college, kicked out of Wayne Manor, and fast tracked through police training Officer Grayson is having a real fucking shit time at the precinct. No one respects him or his deductions or his opinions. Everything sucks ass. His most familiar and longest-living support structure was ripped out from underneath him, he’s broken up and no-contact with anyone he’s ever dated, his Blüdhaven apartment is awful and full of black mold and there’s never enough food to sustain him, his creation of his Nightwing persona is slow-going and the public is reluctant to catch on, there’s a kid hiding under his bed, his partner thinks he’s a total nepo baby even though he has no money and no contacts, and—

There’s a what.

Dick double checks under his bed. Yerp. Sure enough, just hanging out, is a black-haired kid with a raggedy coat and a backpack, just peering back out at him with his big ‘ol eyes.

“What the fuck,” says Dick, before remembering not to swear in front of kids. “...freak.”

The kid scrunches his nose.

Dick doesn’t kick the kid out because, fuck, it’s cold out in November and at least his shitty apartment has heating, but he does tell the kid that this ain’t cool and that if he wasn’t literally in the cops to take most of them down, he wouldn’t let this fly at all. In the morning, the kid skedaddles, and Dick assumes that is that.

Except he’s here the next day.

“What the fuck,” Dick repeats, and commits to the swearing this time.

In the mean time, Tim already knows what swearing is and Is On The Fucking Lamb.

His parents were murdered in their bed on their one week in Gotham for the season, and escaping the same fate had been a lot of sneaking out of the house and hitching a ride on the Gotham city bus and laying low on the streets for the week, keeping only his most important photos, his camera, and a spare set of clothes on him at all times. There had been warnings of upset in the company that Tim had overheard, but he hadn’t expected this. With no safety in Gotham, no money, no food, and no one he knew personally, Tim was Very content with his plan of hiding out under Robin’s (ex-Robin’s?) bed until the murderers are appropriately found. The company can’t be bought, traded, or sold until Tim’s found dead, after all.

So. With a motivation to avoid getting murdered, Tim very rudely ignores Dick Grayson’s attempts to keep him out of his apartment with strategic uses of puppy eyes, lockpicks, and general knowledge of exploits in electronic locks.

“Little monster,” Dick warns, even as he has a plate for Tim in the hand opposite his own, “You can’t hide under my bed forever.”

Tim ducks back further under the frame. Yes he can!!!

It devolves into day-to-day shenanigans from there. Tim never speaks since he knows his Bristol accent is recognizable. Dick suddenly has to juggle his day job, Nightwing, and stopping this little kid with a camera from crawling around this crusty and crime-riddled city all night, just so the squirt can dart into the precinct in the morning with entirely inadmissible evidence of wrongdoing?? JUST managing the baby is part-time job. Fuck. Dick is buying double groceries now. He might actually learn how to cook more than ramen-with-egg.

It’s good that Dick has mastered some kind of weird almost-parent bullshit with the little monster, because overnight one kid under his bed turns into two.

“What the fuck,” says Dick. He tries to reach under his bed, and the new kid tries to get him with a knife. “What?? The fuck??”

“Back off! The shrimp was here first!!” the new kid growls, his street accent thickly prominent.

“This is literally my apartment?!”

“So what? What’re you going to do, call the cops to this shithole?”

“…I’m a cop?!”

Anyway. This new kid is deeply protective of the little monster, and his name is Jay something-something, mind your own fucking business, and Dick’s a little bit grateful because now at least the ten-year-old-monster has backup when he starts darting around town and also is wondering why it’s suddenly his fucking problem that he has to feed two kids he is not related to, and also apparently bailing them out at work when two not-even-pubescent kids get caught breaking and entering at seemingly random places in Bludhaven.

“Fuck off,” says Jay, to a cop, while the more silent kid is busy trying to get a look at evidence on cop desks. Dick watches from his own desk in silent horror.

“Is this yours?” asks Dick’s haggard partner.

“…Sure,” says Dick, to Jay’s clear surprise and suspicion. The monster beams with all of his adorable and also entirely fake innocence, the little shit. Dick bails them out, and then they all have lima beans for dinner as punishment for getting caught. I mean doing illegal things. (I mean getting caught.)

And then Bruce asks if Dick is coming home for Hanukkah.

Dick does not want to come back for Hanukkah.

…But the leftovers would feed the kids, actually. And it’s good food. And free. Maybe he can go for one night and not kill Bruce.

Spoiler: Dick cannot go for one night and not kill Bruce. Dick stomps to the other end of the house, texts Alfred an apology, and makes it all the way back to his car in order to drive home. Dick is on the parkway and on his way back to Bludhaven by the time that the tiny assassin in his car tries to Get Him.

They tussle. Dick only wins because he is An Adult and the assassin is, like, four foot nine.

Anyway. Cass is driven home in an improvised belt-and-dress-shirt restraint and cannot live under the bed, as she has to receive lice treatment. She stays because there is food and also other kids her age.

“Where are you getting all these kids?” Dick’s work partner asks, which is a fair question.

“…Cousins,” Dick lies.

“They live at your place.”

“Until their moms get sober again, yeah, probably,” Dick says, banking on the fact that he looks ethnic enough that no one will question the blatant reference to substance abuse or the basically-still-a-kid raising kids.

No one questions him.

He’s kind of disappointed in them about that.

Jay drops a reference to Crime Alley about this point. “You’re from Gotham?” Dick asks, perplexed. “Then why are you here?? This place sucks ass.”

“I’m in hiding. Duh.”

“From who??” Dick is fully prepared to go Nightwing on someone’s ass.

“Batman,” Jay says, severely. “I stole his tires. And then I hit him with a tire iron.”

Dick gapes. Monster gasps. Cass doesn’t get it, and takes a good heaping of spaghetti off the monster’s plate while he freaks out.

Much cute domestic shenanigans, and then it all goes to shit when the party is crashed by an assassin, who has been paid reasonable amounts of money to kill Timothy Jackson Drake.

Fighting ensues. Jay, who had known everything But the fact that Dick was Nightwing, freaks the fuck out.

"YOU?!"

"Yeah," Dick says, sheepishly, putting the escrima stick back in his pocket. "Uh. Whoops?"

"BUT YOU'RE A COP?!"

"I'm harboring you all, aren't I?" Dick points out, and rightfully so. "Cops do illegal stuff all the time. I literally got you out of trouble for your little B&E adventure in the inner city warehouses last week. If you weren’t fake related to a cop, you’d be in juvie right now for repeat offenses."

Jay, who was pretending that didn't happen and whose face is a bright scarlet, changes the topic. "Why didn't you tell us you were a fucking vigilante, then?? You should have said something?"

Dick points to the under-the-bed monster who has been squatting in his apartment since last year for that exact reason and the mostly mute mini assassin, both of whom had already known this information and said nothing. “I assumed they told you tbh.”

Jay stomps away.

Unfortunately, Tim's plan of hiding in Dick's apartment is no longer safe, and now everyone has to haul ass to move somewhere more secure.

This means needing more money.

This means needing somewhere to hide until a new place can be secured.

…Shit. This means playing nice with Bruce and asking for favors.

Dick does not want to play nice and ask for favors.

…Dick looks at the kid who’s depending on him to protect him from assassination, another orphan with nowhere else to go, and a girl who underwent abusive training and who’s never known a safe space apart from them.

Dick is going to have to get his shit together.

And he will hate it the whole fucking time.

Everyone piles into his early 2000s toyota something and off they drive, one bag each, to the house with the guy who never quite adopted Dick into his family and probably never wants to see him again, based on how literally every time Dick tries to spend time with him, Bruce can’t help but push on every one of his fucking buttons.

From there it’s a slow-churning reconciliation arc, baby! Bruce learns how to actually communicate with his kid, finds out that having the kids around improves his quality of life by 200%, and Alfred gets an early plural grandkid arc. Dick struggles not to take shit personally while they solve the deaths of the Drakes, Tim breaks his leg falling off of a place he Should Not have been, and Jason continues to learn that protecting others isn’t the same as genuine vulnerability and intimacy, and that he has value, and Cass learns that although she hates killing, she loves fighting, and using that for good isn’t bad.

Reasons I will never write this fic:

Too long!! I would never get it done in a reasonable time frame, and I can’t commit right now.

I actually…writing mysteries bores me. Sometimes actual mysteries bore me. I couldn’t execute this the way I would want it to be read. I’d give up. (Or, you know, I technically already have?)

In-betweens between the action scenes are too vague. They’re not solid in my head in the way I would want them to be if I was writing this.

This entire fic was premised under the basis of Dick looking under his bed and finding a twelve year old Tim Drake. I wanted some good old fashioned Tim & Dick bonding that wasn’t Red Hood based, since it’s still one of the most prominent tropes in their ‘&’ relationship tag.

Want to use any of this…? Go nuts. Or don’t. This has been exorcised from my body. I am now free.

[kcrossvine-art]

hi birds of paradise and of prey! I sincerely hope your 2024 has been kind to you so far, and if it hasn't, I hope it starts being fucking nicer soon. We got eyes on it and are ready to take it out should it fail.

I'm coming to the end of my list here soon, so if anyone has ideas on what they'd like to see next, please do hit me up! Even if its just a piece of media with interesting food in it and not a specific dish you wanna see. My roommate got me a recipe book from that TikTok fantasy tavern guy, "recipes from the lucky gryphon"? So we could also take a shot at a few of those, although im not really familiar with his work. Regardless-

We will be making Stuffed Cabbage from Lord of the Rings Online today!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to this Stuffed Cabbage?” YOU MIGHT ASKYou cant kinda put whatever you want for seasonings and even the meat filling. I used ground beef but pork and lamb are also stellar candidates.

Yellow onion

Garlic

2 eggs

Ground beef

Rice

A head of cabbage

Oregano

Thyme

Red pepper flakes

Cumin

Crushed tomato

Tomato sauce

AND, “what does this Stuffed Cabbage taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKBa bawsa

Very, very filling wow

2 rolls filled me up for a meal and i made about 20-ish from one head of cabage

A bit plain tbh, the texture is great but I'd really double up on the seasonings

A blank canvas for you to impart your spice preferences onto

Reheating makes it taste almost identical to fresh

Would pair well with a hot sauce dip

could also go well with an artichoke dip

If you run out of room and need to layer the rolls, I'd try experimenting with pouring some of the crushed tomato and sauce inbetween the stacked rolls. Otherwise the ones at the bottom lack a lot of the tomato flavor. However it might make the bottoms on the rolls laying ontop soggy?

. Where rice called for, used long grain white rice

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I've never blanched anything before. Theres not much western food that calls for it, meanwhile whenever my friend from malaysia shows a dish they ate, 9 times out of 10 the vegetables are blanched. Much easier process than the fancy name might suggest- boil water and dunk the thing in until its done. Whatever 'done' may be for the thing you are cooking.

Also for the ground beef (or whichever meat you use) you don't have to cook it beforehand, but in doing two tries at making these cabbage rolls i would recommend you at least season your meat before mixing it with everything else. The meat will cook to a safe temperature inside the cabbage rolls, i just prefer the taste and texture of it when cooked twice.

I give this recipe a meandering 7/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) I want to review more horrible recipes, truly i do, so that the rating scale isnt always a 6 and above, but whenever i try something horrible its like "why the fuck would i put all the effort into making and sharing a review of this thing i Do Not Want others to eat????" yknow?? Would people be interested in roasting horrible recipes? 

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 yellow onion

6 cloves of garlic

2 eggs

2 lbs ground beef

1 1/2 cup cooked rice

1 large head of cabbage

28oz crushed tomato

14oz tomato sauce

Oregano

Thyme

Red pepper flakes

Cumin

Salt/pepper

Method:

Saute garlic and onion in butter over medium heat until onions are caramelized. When done, remove from heat and let cool.

Season the beef to your liking with cumin, red pepper, and salt. Very, very lightly cook the beef in the same pan used for the garlic and onions. Cook until it starts to brown, but dont let it darken. 

Beat eggs thoroughly with oregano, thyme, salt, and pepper.

Add all of the above ingredients together in a bowl with (cooked!) rice. Mix thoroughly then cover and let rest in the fridge.

Core and blanche your cabbage in boiling water, peeling them off as they become limp.

Once you've separated all the leaves, cut off any thick stems that would prevent the leaf from folding.

Put roughly 2 tablespoons of meat filling into each leaf. Fold the sides of the leaf inwards and roll it up. Place each cabbage roll seam-down into a casserole dish.

If they don't all fit in one layer, its more than okay to stack. Try not to stack more than 2 layers though.

Once you've used all the cabbage, take your can of tomatos and pour them over the rolls. Mix some oregano into the tomato sauce and pour that over the rolls as well.

Bake uncovered in the oven at 350 for about 2 hours. Dont worry if a bit of tomato on top looks burnt.

IF REHEATING LEFTOVERS: Bake 10 cabbage rolls in the oven at 320 for about 40 minutes. Reduce time for less rolls.

[simpforboys]

can u do xavier and reader being enemies/rivals and theyre roommates and they have like a heated fight but when theyre sleeping reader gets cold so they wake up xavier for cuddles and xavier confesses to reader and maybe some making out 🧎‍♀️

not so bad after all

xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: when your rival and enemy xavier thorpe stands up for you, it leads to an argument. and maybe a few confessions.

warnings: swearing, fluff ending, some angst, enemies/rivals to lovers, sexual comments/harassment

combining this request with this!!!

this is kinda cliché but its cute so idc!

when rowan left nevermore academy, principal weems approached you with a room change.

you, who had put in a room change request a few weeks ago, immediately accepted it.

unfortunately you didn’t know your new roommate was going to be xavier thorpe.

xavier thorpe. he had been your academic rival and turned enemy ever since your first year.

he purposely pissed you off and it annoyed you like crazy. his dumb art, smarts, face.

he drove you nuts.

you guys have been roommates for about two months now. there was always a fight every day and it would result in you closing off the make-shift wall you created.

but for now, you sat on the outskirts of nevermore. there was a little grassy area you liked to hang out on, a nice blanket to protect your skin from the cold grass.

laying on your stomach with your feet in the air, you flipped the pages of your book. the place was quiet enough for you to read and get some fresh air, you claimed it was your “get away.”

unfortunately, since it was kinda secluded, that also meant some unwanted company from time to time.

“what’s up, y/n?”

you turned your head and looked up to see a boy named greg. he was around 5’10, short blond hair, with an oval face.

he loved making you uncomfortable, worse than xavier. it didn’t help that his friends were jackasses too and only egged greg on.

“the hell do you want, greg?”

“what’s a pretty mouth like yours talking like that for?”

“go fuck off.”

greg and his friends began to circle your little blanket. you quickly stood up as the four boys stared at you, like animals looking at their prey hungrily.

“now now, y/n. that’s not really nice, is it?” greg’s crooked teeth smirked at you and it made you nauseous.

“can you just leave me alone?”

“no can do. see, you have something i want.”

“i can’t imagine i have anything you would want, you fucking egg head.”

your anger was starting to get the best of you, and you can tell greg was getting heated the way his pale face went red.

when greg grabbed your wrists harshly, you immediately knew you were in trouble.

but before you could fight back, a tall figure pushed greg onto the grass. you looked at who the boy was in complete shock.

xavier thorpe.

“stay the fuck away from her, understand me?”

greg got up and scurried away along with his friends.

“the hell are you doing out here, y/n?”

xavier’s hair was half up half down, a frustrated expression on his sharp features.

“none of your fucking business, xavier.”

“you made it my business by being stupid. there’s plenty of other places in nevermore.”

“so then what are you doing out here, asshole?”

xavier stared at you.

“just- just don’t hang out in this area anymore, okay? it’s where the assholes hang out.”

you rolled your eyes, grabbing your blanket and book. you quickly walked away and felt xavier’s eyes on you.

➽─────────────────❥

that night, you were curled up in your bed trying to find warmth. the freezing jericho air crept through xavier’s window and it was making you freezing.

you hadn’t spoken to xavier since the argument. he appeared to be sleeping over in his twin bed.

you were shivering with your two blankets, pj pants, and sweater. for some reason, you couldn’t keep warm.

your teeth began chattering when you checked the time on your phone. 2:14am.

without thinking, you walked over to xavier’s bed and gently opened the blanket.

he was sleeping in lamb pajama bottoms and a grey shirt, his hair unkept and messy on the pillow.

you quietly got in his bed and immediately you were engulfed by the body heat.

it felt amazing to finally have some sense of warmth. when xavier’s legs accidentally met yours, it felt like a shock of electricity went off and you jolted in bed.

xavier woke up to your jolt and jumped.

“what are you doing over here?”

he groggily asked.

“it’s fucking freezing and you’re warm. shut up and go back to bed.”

surprisingly, xavier complied and you soon heard little snores coming from his mouth.

maybe it was the way he seemed so at peace while he slept, maybe it was the way his long hair was so gracefully placed on his pillow, or maybe it was the way you were staring at his face that was illuminated in the moonlight.

feelings began to erupt in you, feelings that were kept deep down inside you. but, you tried to ignore it and turned over, closing your eyes and softly drifted off.

➽─────────────────❥

unfortunately, you didn’t sleep long. you woke up an hour and a half later to xavier nearly pushing you off the bed.

“stop moving, asshole.”

“you’re in my bed, y/n.”

you didn’t even realize the way xavier began to hold you in his half-asleep stature.

you would be lying if you said it didn’t feel nice. “xavier, you’re cuddling me.”

“can you just shut up and go to sleep?”

his voice was soft and you could tell he wasn’t being mean. you hesitantly laid your head on his chest, hearing the way his heart beat began to speed up.

“am i making you nervous, xavier?” you whispered out, not fully expecting an answer.

“of course i’m nervous, a pretty girl is in my bed.” he mumbled back to you.

xavier could feel your smile against him and he moved his hand to gently scratch the back of your head, trying to get you to fall asleep.

“you know… as much as you like to believe i purposely piss you off, you’re wrong completely.”

you gently lifted your head. your eyes made direct contact with xavier’s, the moon reflecting off the blueish-green color.

“then why do you always gotta be better than me?”

“i’m not better than you, y/n. i do it so i can talk to you.”

“is that why you came out of nowhere earlier?”

“i was coming back from my art shed and saw those dickheads harassing you. i helped you out.”

“what, are you in love with me or something?” you joked, trying to ease the tone in his voice.

“i think so.”

his answer was so nonchalant you almost didn’t hear it correctly.

“huh-“

you went to question him, but xavier gently grabbed your chin and pulled you in for a kiss.

his lips were soft, gentle, and warm. he didn’t force you to stay, and you easily could have pulled back if you wanted. but you didn’t.

you didn’t want to be away from him.

xavier held you against him as you kissed him like your life depended on it.

after a few minutes of plain making out, xavier pulled away from you. his eyes were big and full of admiration.

“let’s get some sleep, yeah?”

you nodded, sleep overcoming your body as you laid back on his chest. he began to rub your back and you closed your eyes.

“you’re not so bad after all, xavier.” you tiredly joked.

he laughed, the vibration against your head making butterflies erupt into your stomach.

“goodnight, y/n.”

“goodnight, xavier.”

[lex-the-flex]

Infectious Defenses

Las Plagas! Leon S. Kennedy x reader

Summary: Trapped by Lord Saddler, the man believes he has the best weapon at his fingertips. Unbeknownst to him, nothing can break the alliance between two of the greatest D.S.O Agents.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning(s): HEAVY ANGST, brief action and violence, descriptions of injuries, Las Plagas nearly takes control of Leon, mentions of brainwashing, the reader being a badass, and MEGA FLUFF!

A/N: I’M SO HYPED FOR THIS GAME!! And the new trailer made me loose my mind!! I hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated!

The heavy rainfall made seeing the pathway to the cathedral nearly impossible in the dead of night. Hoisting Leon closer to you, there was no room to breathe, and your muscles started to ache from carrying his weight against your tired body.

Coughing more frequently, Leon tried his best to cover his mouth, but he couldn't. Letting his left arm dangle, the only thing he could do was trudge his feet along the gravel trail to the church's entrance.

"Come on, Leon. It's just a little further." You shouted against the rain, hoping he'd hear you.

"I'm trying, Y/N..." Leon mumbled in between another coughing fit.

Reaching the cathedral's front steps, you pushed the door open with your hip, hoping the barrel of your submachine gun tied to your back would provide a little help. With the large wooden doors swinging open, the force alone made you and Leon fall to the floor.

Breaking your fall, Leon held you in his muscular arms, not wanting you to collide with the stone flooring. Heaving past your shoulder, Leon gasped for a rush of cold air, begging for anything to enter his collapsing lungs.

Even when he's dying, Leon is ever the gentleman.

Moving to your knees, you carefully held a hand on Leon's chest, hoping to keep him still. Grabbing your wrist, the young man wheezed for any kind of saving grace. Taking a few herbs from your hip pouch, you held the medicinal mixture to Leon's chapped lips, he swallowed the remedy with a few sips of water out of a spare canteen from Luis.

Laying back, Leon slowly released his grip on your wrist, the agent's breathing returned to normal. Focusing on continuing the flow from in through his nose and out the mouth, Leon balances on his elbows.

"Y/N? You okay?" Leon asked and a crease formed in between his dark brows.

Motioning for your barely bleeding shoulder, a small quiet giggle escapes from your lips, and a quick smile fills the corners of Leon's dull pinkish lips.

"What?" He asks, returning to his normal self.

But before you can respond, an echo of vile laughter fills the cathedral's empty hall, and your face drops. Turning to the altar, Leon subconsciously clutched your arm in his hand as he rose from his spot on the ground.

"So the lambs decided to return to their Shepard after all. But don't worry, you'll soon become one of us, Mr. Kennedy. Then your partner shall fall in line right behind you." Lord Saddler explained as the two of you stood to your feet.

“You're wrong. I don't carry the same blood as you and your men." Leon said, pacing to the foot of the altar.

“Ah but you do, my boy. Once the egg hatches, you will see the true path.” Saddler snickered, waving his hand towards his infested staff.

"Leon, what's he talking about?" You ask, standing at his side.

"Ah, so you don't know, Ms. L/N. You were more than fortunate enough to escape my grasp. It'll be a miracle once you accept this wondrous gift!" Saddler projects, with a smirk lighting up his eerie face.

The Lord's spine-tingling eyes try to break your spirit, but you stand strong beside Leon. Unclipping your own modified handgun, you aim the barrel toward the sadistic leader.

"Nah ah ah. I wouldn't do that if I were you." Saddler mocks you, wagging his finger in your direction.

Your pointer finger barely begins to squeeze the trigger just as Leon begins to heavily wheeze. Reaching for the base of his neck, Leon descends to his knees, as if he can no longer stand up straight.

"Leon, are you alright? Here, take my hand." You instruct never letting go of your gun.

Rejecting your hand, Leon pushes you back causing you to stumble towards a pillar.

"Don't come near me, Y/N! I can't... I can't--" Leon replies, staggering in place.

Beneath his olive skin, a series of dark crimson veins begin to emerge on top of his own. Clasping his hands on his chest, Leon takes in a few uneven gasps out of desperation, hoping, praying for this to just be a bad dream.

"Ah yes, the time has come!" Saddler praises, praising the power before him.

Switching targets, you can't decide whether to aim at Saddler or Leon, you choose the latter. With a firm stance, you begin to march toward Saddler with your gun held high. But before you can reach the foot of the altar, the sight of Leon taking hold of your gun startles you.

Swiping the gun from your hands, the D.S.O. Agent tosses your piece of artillery across the room. Your hands start to shake uncontrollably as you try to cover the gasp that sneaks from your mouth. Gazing over the man who now stood before you, it was as if Leon became a different person in a matter of seconds.

"Exult all! And let it be so!!" Saddler shouts, witnessing the true marvel before him.

Sinking to the very mold of the pillar, your fingers grip the old stone, hoping the cold will soothe your sweaty palms. Watching the dark mass inch its way up Leon's neck, he faces the ceiling. Gritting his teeth together, a terrifying scream escapes Leon's lips, and it shakes you to your very core.

You've never heard Leon scream. Let alone in pain. This man was not your partner, friend, or the man who shared the same infatuation with.

This was not your Leon.

Making eye contact with your gun, you bolt towards it, ducking under Leon's attack. Switching the safety off, you aim the gun at Saddler and shoot. The bullet makes contact with Saddler's shoulder and he falls through a hidden trap door behind the waist-high flat table.

The moment Saddler disappears, Leon collapses to the ground, and the terror that once controlled him is gone. Rushing to his side, the crimson colored veins vanished.

"Leon?" You question, nudging his exposed skin with the butt of your gun.

Jerking awake, Leon held up his hand to see the sight of your gun aimed at him. Wiping his sweaty face, he looks around the cathedral.

"What happened?" He innocently asks, trying to process what had just occurred.

Just like that, it was like a dam opened, and a rush of tears flowed down your face. Standing before you, Leon takes your shoulders in his hands, and leans his forehead against yours.

"You, you lost control, Leon. It's like you... became a different person." You tried to explain through a series of sobs.

"But I didn't, Y/N. I won't let that virus take me. I'm here and I don't plan on going anywhere." Leon whispered to ease your sobs, taking you closer in his arms.

re taglist ~

@dreamliners

@iraot

@beautifuljellyfishqueen

@balach-cadalach

@murrdxcks

@fetaneecole

@odaschopsticks

@macabrecakes

@tiredsurvivoronmain

@thecodeisveronica

@andyacklesspn

@kanzukikarin

@cloudybakery

@swimninhoney

@ashiemochi

@kennedysharper

@highball66

@jinlintai

@onewinged-sephiroth

@scariusaquarius

@momma-vi

@cilantro24 

@shions-new-blog-of-stuff 

@thatdummy-girl

@acupnoodle

@slaughtrx

@rpd-rookie

@oreo-leon

@xxresi-rotxx

@ashrillvenheim 

@knifefightandchill

@tradgothprompto

@lottathoughts

@brittlecakes92

@mnjxs

@rebidemp-ebil

@chirikalovesjill

@paleepeaches

@dargoww

@blueyheart

@leonwifey 

@arzublogworld 

@ec1ips3

@blueyheart 

@ssbptigers 

@dreamingchocochan

@mothxmoons

@twentybibi 

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit Part Eight on AO3

Contents

Bearshifter!Price x reader | explicit

John wakes with a sharp jerk when his own snoring gets too loud. Underneath him, the pillow he's wrapped around wriggles discontentedly and then falls still. John snuffles into it, the soft, pliant smell digging a hook right behind his sinus cavity and pulling. He humps down once - more instinct than actual desire, he didn't even know he was hard - and the pillow grunts. Oh, right. He's caught a rabbit in his den.

John wakes with a sharp jerk when his own snoring gets too loud. Underneath him, the pillow he's wrapped around wriggles discontentedly and then falls still. John snuffles into it, the soft, pliant smell digging a hook right behind his sinus cavity and pulling. He humps down once - more instinct than actual desire, he didn't even know he was hard - and the pillow grunts.

Oh, right.

He's caught a rabbit in his den.

Reluctantly, he raises his head from where he's got his nose smushed behind her ear. She's still asleep, somehow, her face pressed into his pillow as if she's also scenting him. It unclenches something in his stomach, turns his blood languid and syrupy sweet. They rotated slightly in their sleep, the rabbit laying more so on her belly with John draped over her like the world's heaviest blanket, just like she'd wished his bear could be. He's got a thigh pressed between hers and his arm wrapped around and under her to keep his mit exactly where she'd put it the night before. She's sweaty, probably blistering under the heat of him, poor lamb. He wonders how long he's been snoring directly into her ear and cringes. He can be a bit hard to wake up, god knows. Hopefully he didn't keep her up half the night, pinned to the mattress as she was.

John cops one last feel of her belly and places a quick kiss on the drool stain behind her ear, only resists licking it up by promising himself there would be plenty of time for that later so long as he doesn't freak her out now.

He sneaks off to the kitchen, humming as he cooks them up a full English. He's not sure what she'll want or if she'll even want anything - but his bear has been beside itself ever since she said she didn't have much of an appetite. Poor mate, doesn't know what's good for her. He knows he should back off, that continually insisting on feeding her wasn't really normal. It was probably even impolite. But he couldn't escape the gnawing feeling in his chest that he needed to provide for her, make sure she was ingesting enough calories and nutrients to make up for what she was losing. So, he wouldn't force her to eat, but he'd make sure she had access to anything she could possibly want.

John's got every part of the pig cooked and keeping warm in the oven. He's fried and scrambled eggs both, just because he doesn't know which she'd prefer. There are mushrooms, beans, tomatoes, and hashbrowns. Orange juice, coffee, and tea. He's timed it perfectly, is just putting the toast on when his rabbit wanders out, nose in the air.

"Man, you weren't kidding about breakfast, huh?"

"I never joke about breakfast."

She laughs and tucks herself into his chest, face burrowing right between his pecs and breathing deeply. John chuffs happily, scratching the back of her head with one hand as he flips the buttered slices on the pan.

"Can you make that noise again?"

Hell. "What noise?"

"That like… huffy kind of noise you just did, can you do it again?"

John huffs, distinctly human. "That one?"

"Nah, nevermind. You sounded like my friend the bear for a second."

"Oh right, that bloke…"

The rabbit laughs at the affected jealousy in his voice. "Can I help with this at all?" she nods at the oven.

"Nope, just take a seat, honey. How are you feeling?"

"Dehydrated," she groans, and reroutes at the sight of the kettle.

"Forgot to get you a water bottle last night, damn me," John grumbles, but the rabbit just smiles at him.

"You did fine, big guy, no worries." She peruses his mug tree and selects the cheeky bear mug his mum had sent him a few years back, trying to keep her smile private. He wonders if she's thinking about his goofy feigned jealousy or if she's starting to see similarities. He's tempted to let her, considers chuffing at her again. He doesn't mind her knowing - trusts her enough already - but he's not sure how best to say, 'Now this is going to sound crazy… ' He'd just outright shown his mum, but she'd fainted so perhaps that wasn't the best route either. Besides, he doesn't want to scare her off, so perhaps the best thing would be to let her draw her own connections. He decides to play with it, bides his time for a good opening as he watches her get her tea ready.

He learns she takes it with orange and honey, the sweet girl.

"Thanks for taking care of me last night. That wasn't really necessary but it was very nice."

"Of course, honey. Sorry if I kept you up though, I forgot to warn you I snore."

"Like a chainsaw," she agrees, laughing, as he tables all the food. He sits cornered to her, knees brushing. "Probably weird to admit but it was kinda nice. The Jeep's either dead silent or surrounded by awful parking lot noises when I'm trying to sleep so it was a good change of pace. Even if you do run at approximately nine hundred kelvin."

"Aye, sorry about that. Make for a good heating pad, though?"

"Decent weighted blanket, too."

"And I'm fuzzy," he laughs, faux-nonchalant. He pretends to consider the sausage links for too long, avoiding eye contact.

He can feel the weight of her gaze, assessing. The bear mug dangles from her fingertips ominously. "Regular teddy bear, you."

To his delight she fills her plate with bacon, fried eggs, toast, mushrooms, and pretty much every fruit he had the foresight to prepare and by the end of it she - finally - looks a little less pallid.

"Feeling better?"

She tilts her head back and forth, weighing. "Eh. Not the greatest but that's… unrelated to the hangover."

"Poor bunny. Go lay down on the couch, I'll join you in a minute."

Realizing he intends to clean up, she protests, "Mm! Let me help."

"I insist," he starts, but she's already wrapping up leftovers (he hadn't wanted to make an ass of himself by eating nearly a kilo of meat).

"No, I insist. In fact if you wanna go lie down, I can manage."

"Bloody unlikely," he grumbles, and they work through the mess together in companionable silence.

Or at least, he thought it was companionable.

"Well, thanks for breakfast, John. And also lunch. And dinner. And being so nice. But I should probably head out so -."

The cliff his emotions fall off feels endless. "You're leaving?" It's probably too desperate to sound so stricken but he can't help it, most of his energy spent throttling his bear to keep from dragging her back to bed and pinning her there.

"Oh, uh. Well, I figured…"

Christ, there it is again: that blind panic he's seen in her eyes a few times now. As if he's got her backed up on a trapping pit and any move could be her last; like there's a correct answer, or a quick drop.

He's not sure where the instinct has been coming from. He's never exactly been known to be gentle, but he is with her now. "Not kicking you out, honey. I'd like it if you stayed… but I understand if you'd like to leave."

Guard up, still squirming, "Even if I don't -. Don't want…" he waits her out even though it kills him how much she looks like she might bolt. Eventually she clears her throat, dons some unnaturally blank expression that's somehow even worse. "I thought you'd want me to leave because I don't want to have sex with you. Today. Because…"

Shite. John thinks back on what he'd said the night before. 'We'll talk about it in the morning.' God, he's a knob.

"Sweetheart…" Lost, John flicks at his mustache, antsy. "I shouldn't've… look, I might've put my foot in my mouth last night. Everything I said was only meant to show you how willing I'd be, not to convince you to be. If you don't want… that… that's the end of the discussion, right? But that doesn't mean I want you to leave. I'm just as happy to simply spend time with you, if you're up for it."

The rabbit's eyes are still shuttered, but he thinks he sees the barest hint of hope in there, too. "I can still suck you off, if you'd like."

And John experiences the mental equivalent of having your engine stall out while accelerating. What the fuck?

"No. Well, yes," he clarifies when she looks - disappointed? Self-conscious? Scared, again? "Yes, but not -. Hm. The first time you take my cock isn't going to be in your throat, aye?"

There it is, finally. Pupils dilated with something other than fear now.

"Don't care how long you make me wait, sweetheart. You could keep me chasing you half across the state for a bloody year if you wanted. But when you're ready for me," he hooks two fingers in the band of her sleep pants and pulls her closer, testing how pliable she is, "I'm taking this cunt first."

He'd planned to kiss her, but she beats him to it.

"Don't wanna be casual," she tells him as he lays her out on the couch.

He can't help but laugh. "You thought this was casual?"

It's slow and languid, syrupy as the honey he tastes on her tongue. The impatience of last night is gone, driven out by the same instincts that gentle him every time those wide, prey eyes show themselves. He gets her on her side, flush to the back of the couch. It's hard for him to fit along with her because she's so perfectly fucking soft and John - despite the winter's best efforts - is still a big man, but they manage. Even if he's half on the coffee table, technically. By the time they're trading more words than kisses, John's got the flat of his palm planted exactly where she'd put it the night before and he's making her giggle by flexing his fingers into her soft flesh, grinning like an idiot all the while.

"Fucking heaven holding onto you all night, you've no idea."

"Well I might have some idea." She stretches languidly and John ducks to kiss her exposed neck.

"Yeah? That mean you'll stay again tonight?"

"John," she laughs, exasperated.

"One more night, bunny, then I'll let you free."

"Don't you have to work?"

"Closed Mondays."

"Benevolent of you."

"What were you planning on doing today?"

"Gotta call my friend at some point, maybe try to catch the game. But that's about it..." the way she trails off has him eyeing her suspiciously. "Okay, fine, I was going to try my luck charging my Switch at Starbucks."

"Charging your… Christ, go get it, whatever it is," John grumbles. "And anything else you need to charge too, you stubborn thing."

She rolls up and over him to reach the floor and for a brief moment John is in heaven, surrounded by the soft warm plush of his mate, and then she's gone, leaning over him. "Speaking of, did you charge my phone last night?"

"'Course, honey."

"Yeah, 'course you did. Can you stop being so friggin' sweet, I'm still trying to figure out how to return the favor."

When she turns, John can't help but smack her playfully on the ass. She gives him a look over her shoulder, all fake anger, and he can't help but look contrite. "You said stop being sweet."

It turns out a Switch is a gaming console and she teases him about not knowing that the entire time it charges, then absolutely wipes the floor with him in Mario Kart.

"Thought you said you were good at this?" She asks, shifting again. John needed both hands to play, unfortunately, but they'd discovered just his calf resting over her belly was warm and solid enough to appease her. Or it had been, at least; he'd noticed her getting more restless the last circuit.

"This is not like the game I grew up with."

"Which one was that, old man? Pong?"

He ignores the jab. "How you holding up?"

"I'm good, thanks." She's a liar, if the acidity of her discomfort is anything to go by. The smell of blood is stronger today, and he vaguely remembers past partners complaining about their second days being the worst.

Funny, how little he'd cared in the past.

"Want me to get you anything?"

"Think you've gotten me enough." She motions to the coffee table full of snacks and beverages, a bottle of ibuprofen within reach.

"Those were for me, actually. Was a bit miffed when you dug in."

"Oh, sorry, I'd assumed you'd eaten enough at breakfast, mister four eggs."

"Not nearly. Only reason I didn't polish off that pig is 'cause I didn't want to embarrass myself falling asleep ten minutes later like my old man."

"Don't feed the bear, eh?" she laughs.

John sideeyes her. "Pardon?"

"Fat and happy? It's what we call a food coma back home. Feed the bear, get fat and happy, hibernate."

John chuckles, low. "I like that."

"Did you wanna take a nap? I can cl -."

"If you say clear out I'm gonna chain your tires."

"Sorry," she tries to laugh. Comes out a touch too breathy. He peeks and sure enough, wide, prey eyes.

"'M not mad." John prods her with his toe to make sure she's listening. "If you wanna leave that's one thing, but I'm not kicking you out today. May never," he grins and the quiet huff he gets in response is far more grounded. "Tell you what. If some life shattering event were to happen and I needed to kick you out, I'd just say, 'Sorry, bunny, but can we pick this up some other time?' Short of that explicit dismissal, go ahead and assume nothing I say is a subtle attempt to get rid of you, okay?"

Her smile is maybe a little sad, but appreciative. "Okay."

"There's a good girl. Now, to answer your first question, it's my day off and yes I very much would like a nap. Should I doze off listening to you curse this game or can we move it to the bedroom?"

"A nap does sound nice…"

John grins salaciously. "Bedroom it is."

She wants to lay on top of him this time and he's all too happy to oblige, letting her hike a leg over his own and dig his hip into her belly. When she snuffles into his chest he thinks he might be in heaven. He doesn't need more than this, truly. He'd meant what he said earlier - that she could run him ragged for as long as she wanted, so long as she allowed him this. His bear would be content. Mated, whether she knew it or not. She said she didn't want to be casual so surely she felt it, too. This would be enough for him, for however long it took her to be comfortable with him. And she would be, one day. He'd figure out what made her flinch away every time she thought he was mad or disappointed. It was worrying, to say the least, but he didn't think he could just out and ask her if she was scared of him, or what had happened to make her so flinchy. It was driving him more than a little crazy, though, his bear searching for flesh to sink his teeth into. Somewhere, someone had convinced his girl she was only worth having around if she was putting out, had made her scared to admit what she wanted. Had made her fear him.

He'd kill them if he ever found them.

In the meantime, it was nice to flex this side of himself, be sweet and soft in a way he'd never felt inclined to be before, let his anger simmer under the flesh where she'd never see it.

"What time do those muppets play?"

She hummed, already on the verge of sleep. "Seven, I think."

"Would you rather go out to see it, or stay in?"

"...I'm good with staying in. I can make dinner."

"Don't have to, honey."

"Want to."

"Mm. Such a sweet rabbit."

***

He wakes up confused and alone, more bear than human, already snuffling around the empty sheets for her. She was distressed, headed to the bathroom, and then out the door. John's pulling on clothes and grabbing his keys before he's even consciously aware of it, phone being tucked into a pocket when it vibrates with a missed text.

Christ. The sigh he emits is loud as a bellows.

Really, he's so floaty on their growing bond he feels like he'll never need a cigar again, but the temptation to keep an eye on her from above is far too good, so he climbs his way upstairs with a choice, sweet number and leans on the short wall as he lights up. He can't see her properly, but the Jeep's boot is open and he can hear her voice clearly enough he knows she must be sitting back there. He shouldn't be listening, he knows. It's an invasion of her privacy to say the least, but she's giggly, voice sugar sweet, and it prickles along the shell of John's ear, needle sharp and mean.

"I know, it's good to hear from you, too. No, I had to change that a couple years back. I did, had it memorized. For real. Your's and Kadie's. Couple others."

Scared, now:

"Yeah, about that... No, but I'm better, thanks… Mm… I fucking knew it. Blond, scar on his cheek, generally unsettling? Yep, that was Phil… No, I'm sorry… Mm. Hey, how long ago was that? Shit… No. Two, maybe three months… No, I figured he would. S'why I didn't reach out sooner… Well, you know how my mom is… Nah, it's fine. Better this way anyway. No one can tell him shit if they don't know anything to tell… Well, desperate times." A deep sigh. "It was bad, Benny… the usual stuff at first. Wasn't allowed to talk to friends, yadda yadda. By the time it got physical I didn't have anyone to reach out to… yeah. He had complete control of finances. Made shit hard. Took nearly four years to get things sorted but here we are… yeah, thanks. So anyway, this stays between me and you, yeah? Don't go around saying you heard from me, please. Phil's probably following all your socials from ghost accounts. You and everyone else. Would just take one loud mouth to draw his attention back… I'm serious, Ben… thanks. So anyway, enough about that shit. How've you been?"

Her voice is light again. Too light, reminds him of the blank face she'd adopted when she'd let it spill that she assumed he didn't want her around if she wasn't going to sleep with him. He's still turning his cigar over the open flame of his lighter, too lost in thought to notice it was nearly engulfed.

The usual stuff… got physical… nearly four years.

"Fuck," John hisses as his thumb is burned. He shakes the cigar in an attempt to put it out but only succeeds in fanning the flame. He lets go, watching as it falls through the air. Simmers with it when it lands in the last of the snow banks hiding deep in the shadow of the building. When he looks back up, the rabbit is standing next to the Jeep, watching him warily. She's still on the phone, half paying attention to her conversation. John forces a casual smile and waves at her, desperately holding his anger in check lest she realize he'd heard her; or worse, believes he's mad at her again.

She waves back after a moment, calm as you please, and John thinks about Phil.

She joins him on the roof and complains about the chilly breeze, tucks herself into John's chest which gets him damn near purring and John thinks about Phil.

She makes stuffed peppers for dinner - fucking delicious, even if his bear isn't the biggest fan of capsaicin - and John thinks about Phil.

She answers his stupid questions about hockey playoffs, talks his ear off about the rag tag group of muppets they've both found themselves supporting, and John thinks about Phil.

In bed later, he gets her pinned under him again and uses her soft tits like a pillow made specially for him, rubs her belly absently just to hear her sigh in contentment and John thinks about Phil. Phil, the blond from Dallas with a scar on his cheek. Phil, who isolated his rabbit and took control of her money to make sure she'd never leave. Phil, who's got her so terrified she's living in her car all alone in the world, still scared to reach out to her own friends and family.

Phil, who got physical with her.

Aside from the odd, misguided urges to eat his rabbit right up, John's bear has never really been tempted by human meat; but he has hunted plenty of big game. He wonders if Phil's pretty blond neck will break just as satisfyingly under his jaw as an elk's.

Next>>

[aughtpunk]

I am stuck at the pharmacy waiting for my medication so here's My Personal HC on how breeding works Cult of the Lamb (which is how it works in the Forgiveness of the Lamb series)

OKAY SO

Because any combination of two cultists in Cult of the Lamb can make an egg I HC that all of the adorable animal people have the ability to impregnate and also the ability to lay eggs. How that works/looks like is fully up to the reader to decide.

I also HC that pregnancy in the cotl universe is super fast (a couple of months at most, if not just a few weeks) and the birthing process downright painless outside of some cramping to mimic the game's instant-egg laying.

When a character is naked in Cult of the Lamb they do seem to have nipples (just to make the biology more confusing I guess) but no one appears to have any breasts. So I also HC that breasts appear after someone lays an egg and are simply temporary like they are with most mammals. This will literally never come up on any of my fics but feel free to imagine Leshy with some boobs I guess

It's also worth noting in the Forgiveness series that normal babies, like in the game, all follow the rule of being the species of one parent and having the coloration of the other. It's just that for some mysterious reason The Bishops all have strange crossbreed babies instead. Their eggs also hatch much faster than your average egg and are gold for some reason. Truly a mystery.

And that's how babies are made in my fanfics. If your squicked out by any of this just imagine everyone finds their eggs under a rock or something. But you still have to imagine Leshy with boobs.

[flamme-shigaraki-spithoe]

What if we could lay an egg with narinder ?

Please if any developper see this, let us repopulate the lambs ! (And f*ck with narinder 👉👈)

[deathmoth-blog]

Beautiful black witch moth

The erebid moth Ascalapha odorata, commonly known as the black witch, is a large bat-shaped, dark-colored nocturnal moth, normally ranging from the southern United States to Brazil. Ascalapha odorata is also migratory into Canada and most states of United States. It is the largest noctuoid in the continental United States. In the folklore of many Central American cultures, it is associated with death or misfortune.

Female moths can attain a wingspan of 24 cm. The dorsal surfaces of their wings are mottled brown with hints of iridescent purple and pink, and, in females, crossed by a white bar. The diagnostic marking is a small spot on each forewing shaped like a number nine or a comma. This spot is often green with orange highlights. Males are somewhat smaller, reaching 12 cm in width, darker in color and lacking the white bar crossing the wings. The larva is a large caterpillar up to 7 cm in length with intricate patterns of black and greenish-brown spots and stripes.

The black witch lives from the southern United States, Mexico and Central America to Brazil, and has apparently been introduced to Hawaii.[citation needed]

The black witch flies north during late spring and summer. One was caught during an owl banding project at the Whitefish Point lighthouse on the shoreline of Lake Superior in July 2020.[citation needed]

The black witch is considered a harbinger of death in Mexican and Caribbean folklore. In many cultures, one of these moths flying into the house is considered bad luck: e.g., in Mexico, when there is sickness in a house and this moth enters, it is believed the sick person will die, though a variation on this theme (in the lower Rio Grande Valley, Texas) is that death only occurs if the moth flies in and visits all four corners of one's house (in Mesoamerica, from the pre-Hispanic era until the present time, moths have been associated with death and the number four). In some parts of Mexico, people joke that if one flies over someone's head, the person will lose his hair.

In Jamaica, under the name duppy bat, the black witch is seen as the embodiment of a lost soul or a soul not at rest. In Jamaican English, the word duppy is associated with malevolent spirits returning to inflict harm upon the living and bat refers to anything other than a bird that flies. The word "duppy" (also: "duppie") is also used in other West Indian countries, generally meaning "ghost".

In Brazil it is called "mariposa-bruxa", "mariposa-negra", "bruxa-negra", and "bruxa", and it is also believed that when a moth of this type enters the house it can bring some "bad omen", signaling the death of a resident. In the Ecuadorian highlands they are called Tandacuchi and in Peru Taparacuy or Taparaco. These countries share the belief that if this moth, a messenger of death, appears in your home, someone will die very soon.

In Hawaii, black witch mythology, though associated with death, has a happier note in that if a loved one has just died, the moth is an embodiment of the person's soul returning to say goodbye. In the Bahamas, where they are locally known as money moths or money bats, the legend is that if they land on you, you will come into money, and similarly, in South Texas, if a black witch lands above your door and stays there for a while, you will supposedly win the lottery.

In Paraguay and Argentina, this insect is mostly known as "ura", and there is a popular belief that this moth urinates and leaves worms on the skin of people and animals. However, the insect that lays eggs in the skin and whose larvae become embedded in the flesh is the colmoyote or screwworm (Dermatobia hominis).

In Spanish, the black witch is known as "mariposa de la muerte". Other names for the moth include the papillion-devil, la sorcière noire, the mourning moth or the sorrow moth.[citation needed]

Black witch moth pupae were placed in the mouths of victims of serial killer 'Buffalo Bill' in the novel The Silence of the Lambs. In the movie adaptation, they were replaced by death's-head hawkmoth pupae.

[pancakefanfics]

CotL fanfic idea

Based off my spouse getting Narinder in their current game and him being a coward. Long outline.

Fic starts immediately after Narinder is defeated. Maybe in a dream-like space as he thinks about what has transpired, all the things he thought would come of the Prophecy finally being fulfilled, and how everything that was so close to his reach just slipped through his fingers

Thinking about the lamb, and what he knows of their journey. How powerful they’ve gotten. And how effortlessly they seemed to strike down not only him, but Aym and Baal too. Now he’s completely stripped of his powers, and at the mercy of his former disciple. And that thought is…terrifying.

Coward trait gained.

He comes out of this dream-like state being treated for wounds sustained during the fight and absolutely terrified of everything around him. The other followers, the Lamb. He’s weak and powerless now.

He inevitably starts hiding around the grounds. Other followers (especially the jerks and the hot-tempered ones) see him as an easy target, and he’s picked on a lot.

Lamb doesn’t notice at first. They’ve got their own shit to do, between babies being nurtured, quests, and sermons. But maybe a few days in they notice Narinder scurrying off after a sermon and decide to follow him. A little hidey-hole he made for himself in a bush, away from everyone.

And of course Narinder is scared shitless when he realizes the Lamb followed him. Tries to run away, but the Lamb catches him, confused. “I’m sorry please don’t hurt me I wasn’t doing anything in here just sitting please just let me go and I’ll go do something productive-“

And the Lamb is just so confused because Narinder was so strong and ruthless and now he’s practically crying because they found him hiding. “Narinder please calm down I’m not going to hurt you you’re safe here”

Lamb starting to reassure Narinder every day, and does not treat followers that try to abuse him kindly. “You are all my children and you shouldn’t be so mean to one another. I want you to love each other and to make those new to our little community feel at home.” They say as a tentacle wraps tighter around one of the offender’s throats.

Everyone starts acting kinder. Narinder feeling more and more accepted by the community around him. Forming somewhat of a friendship with the Lamb as he regains his old personality.

But also Narinder being confused as fuck about some of the shit in the community. Because I’m definitely just keeping some game mechanics in just because.

“Lamb why do you have an egg.” “Oh Gerbre and Thorjul just made it!” “…that is a cow and a dog. Neither of those animals lay eggs or should be able to breed with one another.” “Oh really? Huh. Didn’t know that.” “This isn’t how biology works how tf-“ “its because I wanted them to have a baby to make the cult grow! It was my divine grace that blessed their mating to create a beautiful egg.” Narinder stops questioning, just avoids going to the mating tent. Partially because he’s just not interested in anyone there.

Followers proposing to the Lamb and them declining. The more they spend time with Narinder the more they find themselves falling for him, especially as he gets more of his personality back. Is pretty sure they’ll have more luck winning him over if they’re not married to another follower.

So slow burn, enemies to lovers, maybe a little cracky with some OOC things. And of course it’s NariLamb. No thoughts for how they’d get together or anything. Probably be fluffy, no fight scenes really. I just think they’re cute.

[donutfloats]

Question about this post https://www.tumblr.com/donutfloats/754483910182879232/what-were-narinder-and-the-lambs-reactions-to

How does the test even work?

Grabbed this from Google to explain!

“In the first known pregnancy tests, ancient Egyptian women urinated on barley or wheat seeds: quickly sprouting seeds indicated pregnancy. While this may sound like pseudoscience, several modern studies have shown that it works pretty well, correctly identifying 70-85% of pregnancies.”

(source)

I just thought it’d be a fun fact to throw into my drawing!!!

It’s at least the way less weird option, as the other one is,,, injecting female frogs with urine,,,, and if they start laying eggs it means the person is pregnant

So weird LMAO