#it seems like the ignorance bred more free will

[selene-moonie]

i'll never get over the irony of marley calling those kids warriors. at least in paradis the kids knew they were child soldiers

[trulyhblue]

INAPPROPRIATE

leah williamson x arsenal! reader

warnings — tiny angst, annoyed! Leah, Emma Hayes, Chelsea, sorta fluff, coarse language, mention of injury scare.

A/N — in light of Lee’s birthday!!!! short one today, sorry! Thought I would add some spice to this. Emma Hayes needs to realize that pretty much all of woso have dated each other, including her own players lol. there is a mention of Bug, which is a character in one of my stories. Just for context, that is Caitlin Foord’s daughter.

___________________

After hearing Emma Hayes yap on about her opinion on footballers' relationships, you found yourself subjected to a pretty pissed-off Leah Williamson.

Today was the London derby, a long-awaited revenge for Chelsea, it seemed, as the Arsenal bus arrived outside the stadium. Seas of blue and red treaded the stands — you caught sight of a couple of jerseys with your number plastered on the back. Leah was holding your waist as you wandered through the mob of fans reaching for autographs and pictures, a cold facade planted across her face.

Leah was always solemn before games. She was a serious contender, North London bred, with a serious competitive nature that no one could break down.

When you moved to Arsenal from your childhood club, you instantly caught onto Leah’s prominent soberness. Every player knew that if they didn't show up for a game and give it their all, their position would falter. It wasn't like any player with a job as a professional ever thought to underperform, but Leah was an exemption from sincerity. You couldn't joke with her the same way you could during team bonding. You would be stupid to slack off during training or talk to an exaggerated extent when Leah was running beside you. The Lioness Captain copped none of it, and there was no exception for you, her girlfriend.

The woman had woken up with an eminent frown playing on her lips. This was arguably the most important game of the WSL season, and with Leah starting after a long time away, there was a newfound angst set in your shared apartment.

Not only that — the stress Leah had put on herself to perform exceptionally — but the media spotlight Chelsea’s Emma Hayes has put on herself after a certain interview regarding coach-player, and player-player relationships.

From your viewpoint, it didn't really affect you. Everyone had their own opinions based on who dated whom. There was no stopping someone for sharing what they thought, so you simply shook it off as soon as you watched the clip. You did feel bad for the select few of the Blue’s team that were dating players. To not have the personal backing of your coach wouldn't be the most relieving sensation. You knew that the fans were in upheaval regarding her comments, but to be honest, there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.

But, it seemed that Leah did not share the same insight as you.

“She can't just go ‘round saying that.” She barked, hiding the Emirates logo as she crossed her arms in disapproval. “It's barmy, that's what it is.”

You were side by side in the change rooms. Leah was already in her kit, the Chelsea socks sticking out like a sore thumb. You were tugging up your shorts, your shirt yet to cover your sports bra. You sighed, having been hearing Leah go on for the best part of the morning.

“You shouldn't let it worry you, Lee.” You muttered, sorting through your bag, ignoring your girlfriend’s huff. “I don't think she meant any harm—”

“Well she did, didn't she?” She retorted.

You pulled your jersey off the hanger, slipping it on. “Leah, c’mon.”

“Why does she feel the need to talk about us, huh? She should be more worried about the amount of injuries on her team, not about what they do in their free time.”

“Leah, that's enough.” You snapped, your hands planted firmly on your hips. The blonde in front of you looked subtly started by your sudden change of demeanour. “Don't worry about it. It's not worth your time.”

You were currently faced with the nerves of the game, on top of other things like international duties, and the Olympics. To have Leah in this mood, in such a critical time like this, was not only overwhelming but downright anxiety-inducing.

Leah didn't answer you. Instead, she tied her laces and crossed the room, exiting into the tunnel for kick-off. This gave you a few minutes to breathe, to centre yourself. You weren't starting, but your nerves were rising by the time you took your seat next to Alessia.

As soon as the game started, it was clear that Chelsea had it covered. Alessia joked that it was the socks, but you could see by the look on Lee’s face that she was fuming from something other than the odd black that covered her shin pads. You warmed up along the sideline, carrying Caitlin’s bug by your side when you saw her growing restless near Frida.

Unlike the rest of your teammates, you bit their nails at the painful game in front of them, you tried to hone your focus on keeping Bug’s hood down, making her giggle instead of wince at the tackles Caitlin was receiving.

You had been benched for the past few games, your hamstring giving you grief over training. But you were anticipating Jonas to call you over. You waited for the flick of his hand, wanting to make things right on the pitch.

The second-half whistle couldn't have come slower. The starting eleven were frustrated, angry, and quiet when entering the changing rooms, an eerie aura lingering inside. You held onto Bug all the way until Caitlin took over, trudging over to Viv, who happily took the girl up to the stands to watch. Jonas had told you and Emily that you’d be put on, so you were preparing yourself for what was to come.

You tried not to interact with Leah. It was an unspoken rule that unless it was personal, it was not to be said directly, especially when you were losing. But the blonde was leaning nearer to you the closer you were meant to be out on the pitch once more. She made the effort to tug at the hem of your shorts, and hold both your shoulders as she stood behind you, listening to the plan for the rest of the game. You pushed your back into her chest, letting her hug you from behind. She squeezed affectionately, and you noticed the subtle unravelling of her tense shoulders. Her features smoothed when she found out you were replacing Victoria in the midfield, and she made sure to hold your hand as you walked back into the stadium.

“You're doing great, Lee.” You managed to say, hoping that your substitution would be before the sixtieth minute. “Just be careful near the wing. It's very congested and you should wait for the midfield to sort it, alright?”

Leah cared deeply about her career and strived for greatness in all that she did. There was nothing that she couldn't achieve without perfection in her eyes. Many people said that you would bring her down to Earth, and remind her that mistakes are human. But there was only so much you could do, and you found that simply telling the girl that she was making the right decisions, treating her softly, was a tactic no game plan could ever beat.

You were about to find your way down the sidelines, getting ready to finish your warm-up before you were subbed on. Both teams had started filing out of their respected halftime seminars, Chelsea looking as confident as ever. Arsenal were sauntering out with much determination, the spite and inherent desire for justice spewing from the gunner’s crowd. Leah and you were near the entrance of the tunnel, standing on the edge of the field in what seemed like your own personal bubble.

Jonas had taken a seat near the rest of the officials, but Chelsea’s Emma Hayes was standing not far from where the two of you stood, skimming her surroundings vaguely without giving too much away. You could feel the irritation radiating off Leah as soon as the woman was in your sight. You both knew the coach was trying to look at you, without it being bitterly obvious, but it seemed to make the tension rise all the more. Your girlfriend found solace in kissing your forehead, running her hands down your sides painstakingly slow. You felt your cheeks go red, the blush filming over your face when Hayes’ eyes darted away.

“Leah.” You warned her wandering hands, squirming in the taller girl’s potent grip around your hips.

You pulled taunt against her, sighing when she loosened. She ignored your scolding look. A smirk was aligned on her lips, threatening to spill the cocky remarks relieving her lips. You watched her run over to the rest of the team, a meek smile matching hers.

God, you couldn't wait to go home.

_________________

A/N — again, sorry it's really short but I wanted to put something out xxxxxx

[dendrofiles]

your writing goes so hard i keep rereading the whitlar you wrote,, truly awakened something in me. thank you for sharing it i will think about it forever

if you're taking requests at the moment would you consider indulging the gay boys with a breeding kink (me) with some mlm kylar flavoured drabble 🫶 i love how desperate he is it makes me so unwell i think that he should simply try knock up m!PC just as much as he tries with f!PC 🫣 ok good bye thank you for your time i have been abnormal enough in your inbox for one day love and peace

worth a shot

hiiiii anon!! so glad you enjoyed the whitlar. it was so fun to write i love those boys!!! but onto your request—as a fellow gay boy with a breeding kink, HELL YEAH!!!! it’s like you’re reading my mind. i hope you enjoy this! for this i did a cis male reader, but if anyone wants a transmasc reader getting bred… lets just say i am most definitely not opposed. and feel free to be as abnormal in my inbox as you like!! i love hearing insane thoughts. i didn’t proofread this at all so no beta we die like anyone kylar kills for your sake (devs please let him commit murder for us). ok enough said here we go :3

m!kylar x m!reader. m!kylar x m!reader. breeding kink, dubcon, somnophilia, anal sex, overstimulation, slight bratty reader, reader fucks around and finds out, use of ���mommy’ (not mommy kink!! the word is used in a very kylar way). 2473 words.

The unrelenting midday sunlight poured through the massive windows into the cafeteria. It was the only room at the Oxford Street School that didn’t feel like a prison—at least, not in terms of aesthetics. It was still a prison in every other way. You knew that far too intimately. As you stepped into the cafeteria, the first thing you glimpsed was a table of delinquents, all of them leering at you. Their faces turned into harsh, shadowy lines beneath the pale light. You grimaced and went to get your food.

You weren’t popular. Not in the least. Maybe you could have been. You were attractive, intelligent, and personable. Unfortunately for your social status, you just had to fall in love with the most reviled kid in school.

You grabbed some food, then glanced around the cafeteria, looking for your boyfriend. He was easy enough to spot, thankfully. It was hard not to see his green eyes staring at you, tracing your every move. You smiled. You made your way over to him, ignoring the strange looks you got. You were used to it by now. 

You sat down next to Kylar and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Hi, Ky,” you said.

Kylar blushed, as he always did when you showed him affection. It didn’t matter how many times you told him how much you loved him. He would still blush like a schoolboy at the slightest provocation. It was cute. Kylar loved you so much. God, you were lucky.

“Hey,” he mumbled, finally letting himself smile as his hand found yours under the table. “How was your morning? I didn’t see you in English.”

His eyes darkened briefly. “You weren’t… you weren’t with someone else, were you?”

You giggled. “No, silly,” you said. “You’re the only one for me. I was just in the nurse’s office.”

Kylar frowned. “The nurse’s office? A-are you hurt, my love?”

His worry was adorable. You smiled and leaned against his shoulder. “No, I’m just feeling a little under the weather. Nothing major,” you said. “The nurse let me lie down for a while.”

You took a bite of your salad. Kylar watched the up-and-down motion of your jaw, his eyes following the gentle bobbing of your throat as you chewed and swallowed. “That pregnant girl was there,” you said between bites. “She was getting some painkillers, I think. Poor girl.”

Kylar seemed intrigued. “What pregnant girl?”

You shrugged. “I don't know her name. She’s in my science class,” you said. “But she’s nice. I don’t think people are being too mean to her about it. The pregnancy, I mean.”

Kylar didn’t respond. You took a few more bites of your salad. The silence dragged on. You set your fork down and looked over at your boyfriend. He was staring off into the distance, a sad, faraway look in his eyes.

You squeezed his hand. “Ky,” you asked, “is something the matter?”

Kylar looked back at you, his eyes wide and longing. “I-I wish…” he started, then he trailed off. His face went rosy again, and he looked down.

You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Ky, if something’s wrong, you can tell me.”

You felt Kylar’s arm settle around your waist. He rested his head on top of yours, and soft, dark hair spilled into your vision. You closed your eyes, momentarily letting yourself ignore the world around you, relishing in the moment of stillness with your lover. Minutes passed, and you could almost forget that he had been upset at all.

Then, he spoke again.

“I-I wish I could get you pregnant.”

Your eyes snapped open. You whipped your head upwards to look at him. “What?”

Kylar startled at the sudden movement and reeled backwards. “I-I’m sorry, my love!” he squeaked. “I-I didn’t mean to-”

“Wait, slow down,” you interjected before he could start babbling. “It’s fine. I’m not mad at you. I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”

He let out a relieved exhale. You idly traced the stitches on his sweater with your finger, thinking over his words. It was no secret that Kylar wanted to have a family with you. He was constantly telling you about the future he dreamed of, a future where the two of you were married with a house full of children, a future where you were happy and blissful and at peace. But you had always assumed that Kylar wanted to adopt. It wasn’t like it was possible for you two to have biological kids, after all. You had the same body parts. But now that Kylar had revealed this particular fantasy of his, you couldn’t help but try to wring a little more out of him.

“So…” you began, your voice teasing. “You wanna get me pregnant, huh?”

Kylar nodded, looking only slightly less sheepish than before. “I-I know it’s impossible,” he mumbled. “But the thought of you… pregnant with my babies…”

You propped your chin up on his shoulder and grinned at him. “Don’t get a boner in the cafeteria, Ky.”

“I-I’m not!” he replied. 

You giggled. Kylar always got so defensive when you teased him. Another one of his adorable little idiosyncrasies. “Well…” you purred, your fingers trailing up the length of his arm. “We can’t be sure that it’s impossible, can we?”

You leaned in towards Kylar, your hand resting on his thigh. You heard his breath hitch as you smirked up at him. Kylar’s eyes were blown wide, his face bright red, his lips parted in awe. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, clearly trying to tamp down his growing arousal. “What do you mean?” he asked timidly.

You tilted your head to the side ever-so-innocently. “I mean,” you mused, batting your eyelashes, “it’s still worth a shot.”

The bell rang, slicing through your reverie. You sat upright. “Shit,” you hissed. “I’m gonna be late for history.” 

You stood up, delighting in how Kylar was still blushing and sputtering beneath you. You leaned down and kissed his cheek once more. “See ya later, Ky!” you called over your shoulder as you raced out of the cafeteria. 

As you left, you smiled to yourself, pleased with the reactions you had been able to draw out of your boyfriend. Maybe it was cruel to tease him about such a personal, intimate fantasy, but Kylar was a sweet boy. He was timid and cute and obsessed with pleasing you. He wasn’t the kind to take your silly teasing to heart. It wasn’t like he was going to act on his fantasy, right?

Right?

***

That night, you woke up to cold enveloping your body and heat building in your gut. You shivered, wondering when you had kicked the covers off. You reached for the blankets, only to feel something catch your hand.

“Shh, my love,” came a soft voice. “It’s okay, it’s only me, I’ve got you.”

Your eyes fluttered open. The first thing you saw was the open window, the pale curtains fluttering in the night wind. A black sky lingered just outside, its darkness complete, unmarred by patches of light. Your covers had been thrown onto the floor, leaving you bared to the chill in only your pajamas. Somehow, your pajama bottoms had gone missing. 

But perhaps most surprising of all, Kylar was above you, his green eyes boring into yours.

“Ky?” you murmured sleepily. “What’re you doing here?”

He giggled, baring his pearly white teeth. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. It would have been sweet in any other situation, but right now you were just confused.

“I-I just couldn’t be without you any longer, beloved,” he whispered against your lips. “I kept thinking about what you said, and I want to do it.”

It was only then that you noticed the sensations coming from your ass. Kylar was two fingers deep in your hole, scissoring them gently. You froze. You didn’t know how long he had been inside you, but he most definitely had started opening you up while you were still fast asleep. You pushed yourself up to your elbows and tried to scramble away, but Kylar pinned your hand above your head, leaning over you so you couldn’t escape.

Kylar’s eyes were wide and pitiful, like a sad puppy. “My love, why are you fighting?” he asked. “Don’t you want this? Don’t you want to have my babies?”

He slipped another finger into your ass. Kylar’s fingers weren’t particularly large, but they always felt girthier when they were inside you. He pushed them in as far as they could go. He curled them inwards, hitting your prostate. Sparks fired through your body. You gasped, your head falling back against your pillows.

Kylar smiled. “That’s it, love,” he mused. “See? You’re already feeling so good. Your body knows how bad you need me.”

“Ky, wait-” you managed, but a pointed thrust of his fingers cut you off, a moan letting loose from your lips. You wanted to fight him. You really did. You loved Kylar, but you didn’t want him to make a habit of sneaking into your room in the middle of the night. But all the fight left in you dissipated with every tiny bit of pleasure he brought you. Kylar took you apart so easily on his fingers, turning you into nothing more than a whimpering, pleading mess beneath him.

By now, your cock was fully erect, leaking against Kylar’s pants. You bucked your hips upwards, trying to get some friction. Kylar frowned.

“A-are my fingers not for you, my love?” he said anxiously. “That’s okay. I know what you want. I’ll give you what you want.”

Kylar abruptly pulled his fingers out of your hole. You whimpered, feeling like a part of you was missing. He stroked your cheek. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I can never stay apart from you for long.”

He pushed himself up to his knees and pulled his sweatshirt over his head. He looked almost like an apparition in the low light, his skin dappled with shadowy lines. After a moment of struggle, Kylar removed his pants, too. His cock, which always seemed to be bigger than you remembered, was engorged, ready to breed you full.

Kylar leaned down again and lined his cock up with your hole. You didn’t even ask him to wear a condom. You knew there was simply no chance. He locked your lips in a wet, messy kiss as he slowly pushed himself into your ass.

You groaned against his mouth, already dangerously close to release. He giggled. “You love me so much,” he murmured, “but I love you even more.”

Slowly but surely, Kylar began to move. His thick cock dragged deliciously against your walls, marking you as his long before he even came inside you. You swore you could feel every vein, every millimeter of soft skin as they moved through your insides. It was the most intense thing you had ever felt in your life.

Kylar pressed his hand against your stomach. “God, I can’t wait for when you have a baby bump,” he breathed, his voice thick with arousal. “You’re going to be such a beautiful mommy, my love.”

His hand moved upwards towards your chest. “And these,” he said, a shiver running through his body, “these are going to be so nice and swollen with milk. I can see it already. You’re so perfect.”

You whimpered, letting yourself entertain thoughts you had never indulged before. What if you really did get pregnant? Logically, you knew it was impossible, but maybe, just maybe, if Kylar bred you full enough times he might actually be able to fuck a baby into you. Weirder things had happened in this town.

“Love, just picture it,” Kylar continued, his thrusts picking up the pace, hitting your prostate with every motion. “You, walking around town with a big, pregnant belly. Everyone would know that you’re mine. N-nobody would ever try to take you away from me again. You’d be mine, forever and ever.”

That was all it took for you. You came, your cock spurting ropes of cum across your stomachs. You thought Kylar might take it easy on you, maybe give you some reprieve, but he only moved faster. He hit your prostate again and again until your boner came back. Your cock stung, growing red and inflamed. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes.

Kylar smiled sympathetically and kissed the tear tracks on your cheeks. “I can’t stop now, my love,” he said, staring down at you hungrily. “I need to get you pregnant. I can’t give up until I know you’re full of my baby.”

He panted, his short breaths interspersed with desperate moans. You could tell he was getting close. Kylar never lasted long. Not with you.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeated, each repetition of the phrase punctuated by another thrust. It was only a few strokes more until Kylar’s hips were stuttering as he came deep inside you. His head dropped into the crook of your neck as he eagerly fucked you through his orgasm. The feeling of his seed spilling into you had you cumming again, your aching cock releasing again in record time.

You felt Kylar’s hot breath against your collarbone. You reached up to stroke his hair, tangling your fingers in the messy black mop. About a minute or so passed in peace, and you were blissful. Happy that Kylar loved you so much, but grateful that it was over. Hopeful that he would let you sleep soon.

Then, you felt something. Kylar’s cock grew hard inside you again. Your insides struggled to accommodate him, stretching around the rapidly thickening length. You looked up at Kylar, eyes pleading, silently praying that he would pull out, that he would take mercy on you.

Kylar smiled, the insanity clear on his face, the predatory glint in his eyes glowing brighter than ever. “My love,” he said, “you’re going to be such a good mommy. You want that, don’t you? You want to be the mother of my children?”

Without giving you much thought, you nodded.

Kylar caught your lips in one more long, passionate kiss. “Good,” he breathed, “‘cause I’m not done with you yet. I’m not stopping until you’re bred full.”

The night passed in a haze of pleasure and pain as you slipped in and out of sleep. The whole time, Kylar kept going, the thought of you pregnant spurring him on until the sun rose. When you woke up, you were sore all throughout your abdomen, more tired than rested. You rested your hand on your belly, feeling a slight swell there. And, despite the torment of the previous night, you couldn’t help but smile.

You really would be an amazing mommy, wouldn’t you?

[zooophagous]

What drew you to Tuuni's breed? I've never met one and he is cute as hell but he also sounds like a bit of a terror (while also recognizing he is still puppy...)

Don't get me wrong. He's a terror because he's a 6 month old unneutered puppy. Not because of his breed. He's actually less destructive and less hyper than most dogs his age I've met.

I've known for a while that I wanted to go with a "primitive" breed or a spitz. I considered a lot of different ones from huskies to laikas to shiba inu to akitas. I admire a dog that's a free thinker and a little independent, not stuck right to you trying to climb all over you. I like the look of them, I like how relatively clean and tidy the Japanese spitz type dogs are.

The kishu is a good versatile all rounder. It's not clingy, but it does want to be with you. It's loyal and surprisingly trainable compared to the more independent primitives, with kishu excelling in obedience and other sports. While they were bred for hunting, they don't seem to have as much of a small animal chase drive and Tuuni will ignore rabbits and squirrels.

I got to meet a few in person and I was hooked.

So far Tuunbaq has done well at anything he's asked to do. He will boldly meet new people and approach new tricks and obstacles without flinching. New textures, new places and new sights and sounds barely phase him. He is somewhat dog selective but he tolerates familiar dogs and cats very nicely.

Not only does this breed want to work, it wants to work *with you,* and will happily take a new task and ask for more. On the other hand, he also doesn't go insane and trash the entire house if we skip work for a day. He doesn't need to run for hours or be constantly using his legs or brain in order to settle. He just settles.

Their neutrality to strangers, handler focused attitude, clean tendencies and wash and wear coat make them great little adventuring companions or at home tv time pals.

They are however, still dogs, and dogs start as puppies, and puppies are stupid dick heads. He will grow out of it. I see the scaffolding of an excellent dog able to accomplish a lot. One must build to get there.

[heliads]

Hey, can I request something platonic with divergent. Something where reader was a dancer (I'm thinking ballet but it's up to you) before coming to dauntless so everyone underestimates her because they don't know how much strength it takes to dance. Feel free to ignore, I love your work.

'finding the moment' - divergent

masterlist

You’d think a faction that prides itself on taking any person and making them stronger than all others would know better than to underestimate somebody, but you’d be wrong. You’d think that the several years you’ve spent in Dauntless would be enough to wipe the glaring target clean from your back, but you’d be wrong again. You thought you knew what it took to stop the endless rumors about just how you got into this faction, but– well, by now it’s a pattern.

Everyone talks badly about the transfers. Everyone. All it takes to clear your name is one good fight in front of everyone or one great display of strength, and then even the most fervent of naysayers will shut up for good. That being said, apparently you’ve just got bad luck when it comes to finding that one moment, because no matter how many fights you win, it seems like the right crowd just isn’t watching.

You passed initiation with a far higher score than even you expected. You weren’t the top two, but definitely among the top five. It was more than a respectable showing, especially for a transfer. You picked a job you liked and showed your success with it. Dauntless is clearly changed for the better because you’re here, yet you still hear the whispers of rumors whenever you enter a crowded room. Everyone does something big to prove themselves. What’s your grand show going to be?

It’s starting to gnaw away at you, rust at a grand metal showcase. You have never failed your chosen faction. You’ve gone above and beyond at your job, but it seems like behind the scenes work isn’t the way to cut it when it comes to Dauntless popular approval. When two years have come and gone since you entered initiation and yet the tide still hasn’t turned in your favor, you decide to throw in the towel and go to the best source of advice regarding former transfers who managed to rally this bravehearted faction behind them, and that would be Four.

Although he’ll never admit it to anyone but a chosen few, Four isn’t exactly Dauntless born and bred, although you’d never guess it by looking at him. Four emanates cold, calculating judgment, always in control but quick to a punch when he needs to be. Yet behind him in a dusty and well-hidden past lies an upbringing not in Dauntless, but Abnegation of all the factions. Talk about a reversal of roles. Four wears Dauntless well, but he, too, had to go through the pain of being a transfer once, and if anyone can tell you how to hack it, it’s your friend.

Four knows what you want from the moment you find him. “I was wondering when you were going to start asking that sort of question,” he admits. A slight twitch of his lips is the only sign of a smile, swallowed up by his usual stony demeanor. No one can do a poker face like Four, although you’re secretly not sure if it’s due to supreme control over his emotions or perhaps just apathy at life surrounding him. A childhood in Abnegation would certainly do that to a guy.

You arch a brow. “So you were just keeping that information from me all this time? Way to be a good friend, Four.”

He coughs. It might be a laugh, but it can be hard to tell sometimes. “A true Dauntless would seek out information on their own. They wouldn’t need someone else to hold their hand and give them what they need all the time.”

You frown. “That sounds more like Erudite, really. You might be getting your factions confused.”

“I see why no one takes you seriously as a Dauntless,” Four deadpans. “Attitude.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Four, because you certainly don’t have an attitude. And neither does Eric. Or anyone else here.”

This time, you’re sure he grins. “You might have a point. Although Eric might not be the best example of Dauntless pride. He’s a transfer too, you know.”

Your jaw drops. “What? No way, he seems like he’s been here all his life. If you told me Eric Coulter just appeared one day out of the pit, I’d believe you.”

“It would make sense,” Four muses.

You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. “Jokes aside, I’m serious. How is it that both you and Eric were able to get rid of the transfer gossip so quickly?”

“We weren’t,” Four reveals. “We both had a bunch of public, bad fights in the ring before anyone started taking us seriously. That, and the fact that we were both in the top two initiation results. We had to have a moment where we proved to everyone that we deserved to be here.”

You groan. “I keep hearing about this moment thing. That’s not real, right? I’ve won plenty of fights here, but that doesn’t impact my reputation in the slightest.”

“Probably because they think you’re pulling your punches,” Four says. “Look, I didn’t lead your initiation when you went through training, so I don’t know for sure, but rumor has it, people don’t think you’re willing to go all the way. That’s why they accepted me as one of their own, you know. I got into a fight with a rival initiate, hurt him so badly he never dared to look at me again. That’s how they know you’re a real Dauntless. You have to give up fear completely.”

You whistle under your breath. “Dark stuff, Four.”

“It’s Dauntless,” he says. “What else did you expect?”

Truth be told, not much else. You love your chosen faction, even when its acceptance can be slow going, but it’s always been gritty, violent. Real. It’s what drew you here in the first place. You’re used to people lying to your face. In Dauntless, everything is fact or fiction, no gray areas. At last, everything makes sense.

You’re still mulling over Four’s words the next day, trying to wrap your head around just how you can eliminate fear completely from your person. This proverbial moment of Dauntless infamy is far harder to come by than anyone seems to suggest, and it’s starting to drive you mad.

Tired of seeing you tired, your friends drag you out for a training session one night. In true Dauntless fashion, nothing lifts your spirits like a round or two in the ring. After another thrilling victory, one of your friends laughs disbelievingly as she pulls herself up.

“I don’t get it,” she says, brushing herself off. “You always move so easily. How do you keep your balance that well?”

You grin. “I used to dance before I came here. It was great for coordination.”

Your friend nods along, and starts to say something about how she could see that when she’s suddenly interrupted by a voice a few feet away. “You did dance? I can’t believe it.”

You frown, glancing towards the source of the trouble. It’s a young man about your age, he went through initiation a year or so after you did. “What did you say?”

The man scoffs again. “If I were you, I’d never admit to something like that. Dance. Might as well transfer to Amity. It’s probably a better fit for you anyway.”

He starts to turn around, but he stops dead in his tracks when you call after him. “You want to try that again? Don’t talk to me like that.”

He casts you a disbelieving glance. “I’ll say whatever I want.”

“Then you’d better transfer to Candor,” you tell him icily. “Or, better yet, how about you meet me in the ring?” When he hesitates, you laugh. “What, are you scared? I thought you were so much better than me just because I did dance.”

That does it, and the man crosses the floor to join you in the ring. Your raised voice has started to draw a crowd, but you couldn’t care less about the other people there. The only thing that matters is making sure you get this guy to the ground before he can draw another breath to put you down. He’s substantially taller than you, and his arms are well muscled, but he’s underestimated you, and nothing– nothing– makes you as furious as that.

See, there’s one thing nobody here realizes about dance, because none of them have done it, and that is the incredible strength it takes to pull off even the most basic of maneuvers. You have exquisite balance, fantastic timing, and your legs and core are stronger than many people here.

So, although it comes as no surprise to you when your opponent is toppled and swiftly pinned in a matter of minutes, the ripple of shock that surges through the training hall echoes all the way up to the high ceilings. You stand over the felled man, looking down on him coldly. “Don’t ever try to belittle me again,” you inform him. “Also, you might want to look into some dance lessons. Might help you stop being so weak.”

With that, you jump down from the ring. A crowd has formed, but they part to give you space wherever you walk. For once, though, the faces aren’t judgmental but awestruck. On every expression here, you see something new:  grudging, genuine respect.

It occurs to you at last, when you look back at all the people who’ve seen you win, that this was it, this was your moment. You’ve proven yourself. At last, you’re one of the Dauntless, and everyone knows it, too. This is victory, and it is yours.

divergent tag list: @blondsauduun, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @imwaysthelastchoice, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @crazyhearttragedy, @alex-1967s-blog, @aoi-targaryen

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[monstersandmaw]

Whuff, folks, this is a really really long one!! I hope you enjoy it - it kicked my butt and had to be re-written after I got 3k words in and got bogged down with backstory. 

(For reference, if this were a commission, at 12k words it'd be £120. You can read it now for $5/£4.50! You can also read all my back catalogue of Patreon stories too when you sign up. Browse my masterlist for free though here.)

Orcs came out pretty high on the 'favourite monsters' poll over on Patreon, so I went with two, and a satyr because I like sassy satyrs... 

Content: arranged marriage, strained parental relationship for the reader, gender and body neutral reader, childhood friends to lovers, some light D/s play, culturally accepted polyamory, consensual polyamory, penetrative sex, oral sex, a plug, and a lot of fluff because it's me. Wordcount: 12k (!) 

Final note: a 'scop' is the Old English/Anglo-Saxon word for a bard. I gave the reader's people Rohirrim/Anglo-Saxon vibes for this. 

“You’re giving me deja-vu summoning me over to you like that, mother,” you said with a wry drawl in your voice as you sauntered over to one of the two wooden thrones at the far end of the longhouse at her request, and warily eyed the sheaf of paper held casually between her first two fingers. “Last time you looked at me like that, I was twelve and I ended up fostered with the Mountain Clan for six years. Where are you planning on sending me this time?”

You'd meant it for a joke, but the look in her eyes immediately kindled a churning worry in the pit of your stomach when you spotted it, and your expression fell.

“Mother?”

“It wasn’t so bad in the end, was it?” she said archly, one eyebrow rising. “You still write to the warchief’s son on a monthly basis like a lovesick minstrel, though I’m honestly surprised those beasts can fathom out the alphabet.”

Actually, most orcs knew two alphabets: the Trade Tongue, and their own runic language.

This barbed back-and-forth with the Lady of the Hold was nothing new for you though as her often-overlooked, middle child of three, and you took it in your stride, though the insult to Vorstag’s people cut deep. In your time fostering with them, you’d come to love the orcs for their passion and overt love of life — to love one in particular — but no matter how fondly you talked of your time with them, your own people didn’t seem able to get past the orcs’ belligerent reputation or the myriad stereotypes perpetuated about them in the cities, where there were far fewer of them.

Ignoring your mother’s comment about your continuing contact with your adoptive clan, you came to a halt in front of her and stood there, one hip cocked to the side, idly tapping your wooden flute against your thigh. You’d been practising in one of the shadowy corners of the longhouse until she’d called you over to join her. Her eyes flickered to it momentarily before returning to your face, and she sighed.

The Lady of the Hold was an intimidating woman and it was hard to affect calm in front of her, even with your stage-training as a musician and a scop from Widsith before you’d left to live with the orcs. Now, regarding you from her throne, your mother wore clothes of rich silk and fine wool befitting a queen, with thick fur trimmings around her neck, and her ears and throat and hands dripped with glinting gold jewellery bought and paid for by the fine war horses your people bred and raised for the royal stables and noble houses. Even if her attire hadn’t matched that of a queen, her hard glare would have made any monarch quaver. Many people whispered that while the jarl and his wife technically ruled together, it was your mother who truly governed the territory.

She certainly still governed your life well into adulthood.

“I have here a proposal from the Plains Clan…” she said, indicating the paper held at arm’s length between her first two fingers, like it was a spell that might go off any second.

“Oh?” You tried to look casual, but something about it made you uneasy. Her answer to the Plains Clan’s proposal would concern you in some way, you had no doubt. Not least because you spoke orcish like one born into an orcish clan, and you had connections to the Mountain Clan, who were on good terms with their plains neighbours.

Just the thought of those connections made your heart ache: memories of the orc who had made your teenage years in the mountains a dream instead of the nightmare it might have been; who had grown into adulthood with you in lockstep to become your best friend; who had given you your first, exhilarating ride on a warg; who had shared your first kiss at the Winter’s Heart feast, and more besides when you were both older.

“Mn,” she hummed, standing regally and pacing back and forth on the wooden dais in the way she did when she had a problem that was yet unresolved. That did nothing to settle you, but you waited her out. “They have proposed something which I never thought they would to a human: marriage.”

“To you?” you blurted in surprise. “But they know humans don’t mate with more than one other — not formally, at least,” you amended since you knew of at least three people in the settlement who were very happily in a relationship with each other, though they weren’t married in the eyes of the Faith. Not that the Faith had much reach out here, so far from its seat in the royal capital.

“No, not to me, you fool,” she scoffed, irritated at your assumption and, no doubt, at your casual use of the orcish term ‘mate’ instead of marriage. “To one of my children, and since you are the only one unmarried and unpromised, it will have to be you.”

“Married? Me?”

__

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[mwolf0epsilon]

🌤️

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP:

I couldn't pick which was my favourite, so you get 2 for the price of 1.

Both of these are not very happy pieces of dialogue for VERY DIFFERENT reasons, but it was fun writing a narcissistic queen very blatantly creeping on Rex, and it was also fun to rip into the new Ahsoka characterization that just kept bothered me so much.

The Lady of the Castle is a Creep (Magnus Rex Apocalypsis)

"Tell me captain, do you not find it strange that my castle is heavily decorated with the portraits of queens past? I'm sure you've wondered how a bloodline may pass on without mention of any kings to pair off with the queens?" the lady of the castle asked. "Or perhaps, in your case, you don't need to wonder all that much... I may not understand the finer details of cloning, but it seems effective in populating the galaxy with strong strapping men such as yourself..." "It never crossed my mind, no." He didn't like where this was headed. "Well, that's where my... Inheritance comes into play..." She smirked, one thumb stroking the cube with something akin to reverence. "Titania's monarchy has always been matriarchal in nature... Men, brutish stupid pigs that they are, cannot be trusted to think about the finer details... They serve only three purposes: To serve, to fight, to bare spawn. Nothing more, nothing less." Oh stars, not one of THOSE talks. "But I must say, I find you to be the opposite of that... For a man bred to be nothing more than a weapon, you're quite endearing." She purred once more, her free hand returning to caress his face. It took a lot of restraint not to bite her in retaliation, especially after she'd just exposed her true colors so blatantly. "You're perfect. Absolutely perfect... A candidate to be my king. The one who'll turn the tide on this little revolution my subjects seem to think they're bound to win..."

'Sponge' confronts Ahsoka in the World Between Worlds (No Title)

"Lets take a look at the list of sacrifices then, shall we?" Sponge snarled "You sacrificed the lives of my vode by abandoning them and then aligning yourself to a wretched following of Mandos who had seen my kind as nothing more than subhuman pests. Sacrificed them yet again my letting loose a deranged sociopath who saw no issue in eradicating an entire battalion by crashing a ship on a moon. You spat in the face of the captain who loved you like one of his own, time and time again, because you were too good to be vod and too good to be Jedi. You did nothing to save those who survived a genocide, assuming your mission and your own life worth more than those of the children that were taken away to be turned into bloodhounds and attack dogs. You ignored efforts to save the lives of my kin who were just as much victims in all this as the Jedi themselves. You sacrificed EVERYTHING but yourself, you entitled disgusting Skywalkerish wench." "I did what I had to, to make things right! I'm fixing the Jedi!" "You aren't fixing anything. You are not a Jedi. You are nothing but a cowardly ignorant child, just like your putrid-hearted master before you." Sponge spat, disgust evident in their face. "And just like him, you resort to heinous acts

[empiredesimparte]

Charlotte: Are you going to do something? Napoléon V: I think so. Perhaps my advisors and ministers have already worked on these questions of independence with my father Charlotte: The Mayor seemed to say that your father had opened a file on the subject

Napoléon V: Knowing him, he must have worked to keep the islands in our territories, for military reasons Charlotte: Are you really considering this referendum?

Napoléon V: Why not? It's better now than when I'm unpopular Charlotte: It has nothing to do with you, and... You won't be unpopular Louis, ever. The French have seen you born and bred, you're a member of their family. You dedicate your life to them

Napoléon V: I know, but it's important for me to be accountable to the French, to all the French Charlotte: Independentists aren't the majority, they're just noisy and preoccupied with political infighting

Charlotte: By working with Monsieur le Maire, Polynesia can regain its calm, without making waves Napoléon V: How could this individual think that his Emperor is corrupt? Charlotte: I'm sure it's a misunderstanding Louis, he didn't mean to imply…

Napoléon V: What else then? Offering "a gift of 5 billion euros" to his superior, for the negotiation of a delicate political dossier, in order to prepare its conclusions without open debate… Sounds like a substantial and immoral bribe Charlotte: You're mixing things up, darling. It's simply a thank-you, and what he's proposing is common sense. We all want the same thing Napoléon V: I refuse in spite of everything, I'll act as I decide, free to make my own choices

Charlotte: Louis, this is stupid! You're creating problems where there aren't any! The mayor is a representative of the people too, you can't ignore that! Napoléon V: Would you have accepted the atoll? Charlotte: Of course! We might as well work together, rather than against each

Napoléon V: If you want an atoll rather than a house on the island, we can get it on our own, by saving money, without the influence of the Mayor Charlotte: Louis, do you hear yourself? We could save billions of euros and everyone would win, otherwise I wouldn't support it either

Charlotte: At least take the time to think about it. The mayor is an old man, it's not as if he's going to blackmail you for the rest of your reign, and he won't anyway, if we make sure he stays on as head of the Polynesian assembly…

Napoléon V: And if this gets out, how will we look? Charlotte: We've got the best agents in the country. You'll see, I'm sure the Prime Minister would be on my side too

Napoléon V: I'm above this little world of selfish scheming! I embody the Constitution! Charlotte: Louis… Napoléon V: Don't pout like that!

Napoléon V: I'll consult the files and my advisors, and I'll decide without the mayor, it's non-negotiable

Charlotte (chagrined): I never said you should accept right away. I simply think that the Mayor's offer is more honest than you'd like to see, and I hope you'll understand that when you think about it

Napoléon V: Don't cry, darling, I'm sorry I got carried away. It's nothing against you Charlotte: I'm not crying. I've just been emotional lately Napoléon V: I promise I'll think about it calmly

Charlotte: That's fine with me. Let's not fight over "so little"

Charlotte: I was so quick to think that we could have a dream place to come back to Napoléon V: I understand, love, such an offer is exhilarating. I don't blame you

Napoléon V: Whatever happens, we'll have this atoll, okay? I'll tell the mayor to register us as interested buyers Charlotte: Thank you Louis

⚜ Le Cabinet Noir | Bora-Bora, 14 Messidor An 230

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

The imperial couple met the mayor and deputy of Bora-Bora, Gaston Temasong. Temasong offered to guarantee the Emperor his place as head of French Polynesia, in exchange for a private atoll not far from Bora-Bora. Napoléon V was offended by this attempt at bribery, but worried about this independence movement, led by a certain Oscar Sang.

(An atoll is a coral island with a large lagoon at its center. These islands are part of archipelagos and are highly prized by certain billionaires)

⚜ Traduction française

Charlotte: Vas-tu faire quelque chose? Napoléon V: Je pense, je dois y réfléchir. Peut-être mes conseillers et ministres ont ils déjà travaillé sur ces questions d'indépendance avec mon père Charlotte: Monsieur le Maire avait l'air de dire que ton père a ouvert un dossier sur le sujet oui

Napoléon V: Le connaissant, il devait travailler à garder les îles dans nos territoires, pour des raisons militaires Charlotte: Envisages-tu réellement ce référendum ?

Napoléon V: Pourquoi pas ? Il vaut mieux maintenant qu'une fois que je serai impopulaire Charlotte: Tu ne seras pas impopulaire Louis, jamais. Les Français t'ont vu naître et grandir, tu es quelqu'un de leur famille. Tu dédies ta vie pour eux. C'est cela la monarchie

Napoléon V: Je sais, mais c'est important pour moi de rendre compte aux Français, tous les Français Charlotte: Les indépendantistes ne sont pas la majorité, ils sont simplement bruyants et ne se préoccupent que de luttes politiques intestines

Charlotte : En travaillant avec Monsieur le Maire, la Polynésie pourra retrouver son calme, sans faire de vagues Napoléon V : Comment cet individu a-t-il pu penser de son Empereur qu'il est corrompu ? Charlotte : Je suis persuadée qu'il s'est mal fait comprendre Louis, il ne voulait pas insinuer...

Napoléon V : Quoi d'autre alors ? Offrir un cadeau de 5 milliards d'euros à son supérieur, pour la négociation d'un dossier politique délicat, afin d'en préparer les conclusions sans débats ouverts... Cela ressemble à un pot-de-vin conséquent et immoral Charlotte : Tu mélanges tout, chéri. Il s'agit simplement d'un remerciement, ce qu'il propose est de bon sens. Nous voulons tous la même chose Napoléon V : Je refuse malgré tout, j'agirai comme j'en déciderai, libre de mes choix

Charlotte : Louis c'est idiot ! Tu crées des problèmes où il n'y en a pas ! Monsieur le Maire est un représentant du peuple lui aussi, tu ne peux pas l'ignorer Napoléon V : Tu aurais accepté l'atoll toi ? Charlotte : Bien sûr ! Nous aurions de belles vacances ici. Dans tous les cas, la Polynésie reste en Francesim et le Maire aussi. Autant travailler ensemble, que l'un contre l'autre. Cela écarterait la question et nous éviterait des dépenses

Napoléon V : Si tu veux un atoll plutôt qu'une maison sur l'île, nous pourrons l'obtenir par nos moyens, en économisant, sans l'influence du Maire Charlotte : Louis, tu t'entends ? On pourrait justement économiser plusieurs milliards d'euros, tout le monde en sortirait gagnant, sinon je ne l'appuierais pas non plus

Charlotte : Prends au moins le temps d'y réfléchir. Le maire est une personne âgée, ce n'est pas comme s'il allait te faire chanter pendant tout ton règne, et il ne le fera pas de toute façon, si nous nous assurons qu'il reste à la tête de l'assemblée polynésienne

Napoléon V : Et si cela s'ébruite, de quoi aurons-nous l'air ? Charlotte : Il n'y a pas de raisons, nous avons les meilleurs agents du pays. Tu verras, je suis persuadée que le Premier Ministre serait lui aussi de mon côté

Napoléon V : Je suis au-dessus de ce petit monde de manigances égoïstes ! J'incarne la Constitution ! Charlotte : Louis... Napoléon V : Ne fais pas cette moue

Napoléon V : Je consulterai les dossiers et mes conseillers, et j'aviserai, c'est non-négociable

Charlotte (chagrinée) : Je n'ai jamais dit que tu devrais accepter tout de suite. Je trouve simplement que l'offre du Maire est plus honnête que tu ne veux le voir, j'espère que tu le comprendras en réfléchissant au dossier

Napoléon V : Ne pleure pas chérie, pardon, je me suis emporté. Ce n'est pas contre toi Charlotte : Je ne pleure pas. Je suis émotive ces derniers temps Napoléon V : Je te promets de réfléchir à tout cela calmement

Charlotte : Ca me va. Ne nous disputons pas "pour si peu"

Charlotte : Je me suis si vite figurée que nous pourrions avoir un endroit de rêve pour revenir ici Napoléon V : Je comprends mon amour, une telle offre est grisante. Je ne t'en veux pas

Napoléon V : Quoiqu'il arrive, nous aurons cet atoll, d'accord ? Je dirai au Maire de nous inscrire comme acheteurs intéressés Charlotte : Merci Louis, tu es le meilleur

[baylardian-1]

I don't want to step on your toes or anything so feel free to ignore me, but your WD AU has my mind all running in circles of excitement! What if Seven is from a rabbit breeding farm and the rabbits there are so depressed and without hope, that they just give their children numbers instead of names? 😭 But then of course she escapes and joins the group and gets to live free!

^^^^^^^^ me getting a WD AU ask ^^^^^^^^^^

omg YES thats what i was thinking!! i was definitely set on her being a bred blanc de hotot and that she’d just be named Seven (whether by her mother or by humans) and keep it. (considering Fiver was named for being the fifth in the litter 😏)

lemme ramble my messy ideas for a sec HOLD UP-

i think the initial idea i'd had was that Seven and Doc would be lab rabbits from the "Caretaker" and when they all end up escaping, they join the party. that seems like the EASIEST way of going about it at least to me lol.

coming up with quirky yet realistic ways of getting these bunnies together is what i struggle with haha. like i figured Doc would be a human-raised lab rabbit, spoiled and pampered and Large, but maybe craves adventure (also maybe a bit of a hypochondriac). one idea i had (if Seven was a rabbit that joined them later on) was like mmmmmaybe Seven is a kit when they find her either having gotten lost or ran away,,,,, so theyd be more inclined to take her in (or Haven would at least 😏) but idk if ill go with that haha. i feel like Seven joining the "crew" is potentially more reluctant on her end than Doc would be. 🤔🤔🤔 or at least different somehow, like why would she leave what she knows, etc. i see her as being kinda moody and stuck with this group of rabbits like she is in Voyager, eventually coming around to thriving in and preferring that environment but it takes time.

in the kinda sequel WD book it establishes that rabbits who smell of humans “by law” are to be attacked and killed for some reason,,,, (idk if rabbits really act like that lol i felt like the “sequel” dramatized the rabbits a lot more) i dont mind working with this semi-canon idea a bit in that the human-smelling rabbits need to be vouched for when requesting they join their “crew” and i think Haven would 5000% go against the norm for Seven at least but maybe Doc proves himself with his unconventional (to rabbits) health practices so they keep him around.

long ramble to say I LOVE THE ASK HAHA ive been quietly curdling on the AU for a while only 'cuz i dont have everything straightened out and pretty in my head yet lol. and i was stuck on designing fur patterns for everyone but i THINK im satisfied now...... i dont have names for a few of them still. :^)

[heroes-of-lemuria]

hey i’m from the “they made stallion quartermane real” post and i saw u know a lot about horses

would you be willing to share more horse facts? 👀

Oh geez, thank you haha! Admittedly, I wouldn’t say I know much about horses, I just love to google animal facts, always try and find real animals to directly base anthro characters on (so I do a lot of that for wizard guys, picking specific species / breeds ), and remember a bit from the ag classes I took in high school. Horse people feel free to correct me but take what I’m saying here with a grain of salt. I’m trying to back up everything I’m saying with some cursory google searches but I am far from a horse expert 😭

Because Stallion was brought up I guess I can talk about anything I mildly know / hc regarding him? For example I went with the Irish Cob for my personal hc for him (these guys have 1000 names. You might have heard them called the Galineers Cob, the tinker horse, or about 5 other names all of which have slurs for Romani peoples in them l, but seem to be what they’re most commonly known as. I tend to go for Irish cob)

They’re a draft breed from the Great Britain and Ireland, and while wizzy doesn’t always fully 1:1 where their anthros are from, it’s a bonus for me. (Soley off of physical descriptions, he could be a Suffolk punch as well … hmm)

I say he’s based on a draft breed, which you can tell from the leg feathering he has, which from my understanding whole all horses have some, the really prominent leg feathers are a trait characteristic of draft breeds. (Also I just personally really prefer draft breeds myself, I like how big and heavyset they are.) From what I can gather, this is because the gene that causes them to grow so prominently is tied to bone density, and draft horses bred for strength to pull plows and carriages have much thicker bones than lighter horse breeds that have been bred more for speed.

Irish Cobs are characteristically hairier than other breeds, which is why they’re known to grow those mustaches. (Googles telling me it’s mainly because of how hairy they are, but they also might help add added sensation to their lips to help them browse for food) The mustache and beard really made me go yeah that’s the stupid horse for me, plus they come in the coloration with blonde-whitish manes and tails and a reddish body color, called flaxen chestnut from what I can find (though maybe its closer to some golden palominos? I don’t know)

Nothing else particular interesting is coming to mind unfortunately. Stallions weird boots he wears kind of resemble certain types of boots made for actual horses? I’m finding conflicting reports on what these are used for. Some places saying tendon support, others saying there’s nothing to support that, and they’re used to correct gait abnormalities. Either way. Stallion do you have bad ankles. It’s ok you can tell me.

(Also stallion has a boot tread texture on the bottom of his hooves, but I think this is stupid so I ignore it. Especially because the snow shoes we see in madness mountain have horse shoes attached to them, what’s the truth kingsisle?!? But I think it’s a funny detail to point out anyway.)

I googled fun horse facts to try to find anything else I could offer, and one of these fact Infographics said “baby horses drink milk” which is hysterical to me to point out as a fact.

[dhovgaard]

excerpt from exodus

This character is a psychopath that murdered someone else to get on the ship to new Eden.

Jack Moore had slit Brian Faith's throat and slipped his body into the estuary loaded down with an anchor from an old boat and whatever other odds and ends he could attach to the rusty old chain that he wrapped the body with. Faith was not his first victim. He had learned his murderous ways from his crazy uncle Ray. His Uncle liked to string up prostitutes in an abandon boat house and vivisect them for sport.

If Jack's mother knew what her brother did when he was bored she never let on. That and the fact that Jack came home after the baseball game to which his uncle Ray had given him tickets to find his mother slit open like a wild buck her entrails and ovaries decorating the kitchen table and walls.

He should have been shocked by it but he wasn't he began to laugh and after they put his demented uncle Ray on death row he spent his free time butchering small animals eventually working his way up to old men and women. He would sneak into their homes and push them down the stairs. Sometimes he would knock them unconscious and then hang them leaving typed suicide notes on their computers. Then one night a prostitute offered him her wares and he cut her breasts off and stuffed them down her throat. Then he went to her home and killed her children. For several years, he traveled across the country working here and there for cash and killing at will before moving on. No one had ever put it together. Even after Bundy and Keyes cops still didn't talk to each other when they had cases that were clearly committed by psychopathic individuals.

In all that time, he had avoided capture because he just seemed to know when it was time to go, slipping away before the authorities even started looking for him. He attributed this to God's love.

His mother had been a deeply religious woman. She forced him to go to church from the moment he was born. At first, he hated it but then, the words began to speak to him. He began to see that god was not love at all but hate. The events from the Old Testament were to him proof that God despised the peace-loving members of his flock and rewarded only those that killed in his name.

His Uncle Ray reinforced these beliefs when he told him that God wanted the whores he murdered punished not, for their wickedness but, for their weakness. They were weak because they had all the power but let others use them. Their pimps and Johns saw them as nothing more than a commodity to be exploited to satisfy both their lust and their greed.

Ray told him that his victims were no longer human. “They were just meat and God was just fine with the slaughter of meat.”

Just like before there was a little skip in his heart beat as might be caused by a lover’s cool fingers sliding up your back on an unbearably hot night. He knew that his empire would never be. It was gone smashed all to hell by the good intentions of fools.

Didn't they know that humans were just a bunch of mentally disturbed chimpanzees that given the right circumstances they would gut each other for no other reason than that they could. If not for the self-imposed choke collar of laws that by design only applied to those without the guts or power to ignore them.

He was free had always been free. He laughed at his mother's death not because she was a fool or because murder bred its own kind of humor but at the shocked look on her face. Didn't she know this was coming.

The God she had put all her faith in and pinned all her hopes on had not acted to save her but instead made it that much easier for her brother to cut her up like so much chum because God loved death.

He loved all kinds of death the meaner and more brutal the better. He preferred swords, spears and axes over guns because there was more blood, more pain. Bullets killed to quickly much better to rind the flesh to make your victims pray to God in the only way that had meaning to such a sordidly demented deity and that was through pain, sorrow and anguish.

It was why Jewish woman rent their garments when someone died to put on a show for the almighty to roil and bawl in pain and brutality that was the only thing God ever wanted of us and if he couldn't build an empire to those beliefs then he would escape to fight another day. He would bring true heaven down on this planet even if he or they died as a result. 

To that end, he had a secondary plan. Up in the hills he had stocked a cave with provisions and weapons. If what he thought was coming was coming, he would stop there to gather supplies and then move deeper into the jungle to avoid capture. It wasn't the kingdom he had promised himself, but he would still be alive and maybe if God was with him, he could show these fools what true paradise looked like.

[works-of-magic]

How many pokemon do you have and how did you meet them?

Good question, thanks for sending! The answer, though... Oh my gosh, SO many. More than I ever thought I would!

Obviously they don't all come with me on our trips around the world, and also some of them are more permanently "mine" than others. It's a little hard to explain, but some of the Misdreavus that hang around aren't officially "mine", for various reasons!

I don't know the exact number off the top of my head. Numbers and I don't get along. But here's a list, going to go in order I met them!

- Ninetales: He was a present from my family (I suspect mostly from my dad) when I was like 7 years old! I met him as a tiny Vulpix, and for a long time he was my only Pokemon. He's one of my constant adventure buddies.

- Excalibur, a Pidgeot: I caught him several years later, when I first went on my journey to find a Misdreavus! He was a Pidgey at the time and my first wild catch. He makes great transportation, he's harness trained and everything, but he's also a bit of a homebody nowadays.

- Murky, my first Murkrow: I caught him in Eterna Forest on that same journey! Also wild-caught. He approached us because we were invading his flock's territory and he was acting as a scout, but he was glad to leave them behind after the way they ignored him calling for help. He might travel with me if he's bored, he might stay at home if he's feeling lazy.

- Missie, my first Misdreavus: I found her very hurt on the floor of Eterna Forest. She was caught and abandoned by her previous trainer and she wasn't strong enough to defend herself. (Arc, I'm seething just from typing that! Ugh.) At least she was socialized enough that she was happy to come with me after I healed her! It's a 50-50 chance if Missie will be with me when I'm away from home. She's an excellent educational ambassador though, very calm and friendly, so if I'm giving a speech, she's definitely there to demonstrate how well-behaved ghosts can be!

- Mistress was with Missie when I found them in the forest. Initially she only came with me because Missie came with me, and she did actually leave us at one point. (Obviously she came back.) Even when we tried getting her in a Pokeball, she refused to stay in and as soon as she figured out she could make it completely ineffective, she made sure she wouldn't even go in.

Because of her massive aversion to pokeballs, I guess I never really "caught" her officially. After about a year of traveling together, she seemed happy enough, but even happier when I set her and Missie free to roam the forest. So I offered to release her. Let her go, you know? It was a tough decision for me to come to, but I thought she'd be happier in the wild. And I was shocked beyond belief when she told me she didn't want to leave!

Now she's my ace and my constant companion; I won't even go to Galar because I can't bring her with me without a mountain of paperwork and they might still reject the request. She's not a service 'mon, but she's too important to me and we're too bonded.

- Trick: He paired up with Mistress before I caught him, it's a bit of a long story but I met him when Mistress didn't come back for three days and we went on a search, and found her with him and an egg! Luckily he wanted to come with us.

- Willow: Mistress's daughter! She was one of the first Misdreavus I bred. She's a Mismagius now, she wanted to evolve from the moment she knew it was possible. She usually stays home and keeps Sparky company.

- Sparky: Wild Litwick from Unova! I don't actually know when he started following us. We were only in Unova for a bit, but Mistress was really focused on practicing "ghost magic", as she calls it. That's why we were in Unova actually, to find out more about the dream world and magic around it. Sparky basically made himself her apprentice. He rushed to get her things, mimicked what she was doing, and honestly got on her nerves at first. He has no interest in contests or battling unless he's watching Mistress, but she eventually got used to him, and then he got used to me, and then we went home and he surreptitiously caught himself when I wasn't looking and hitchhiked on the plane home. He's basically a homebody. He haunts our library.

- Stella, Mismagius: It's a long story but basically Mistress wasn't eligible to enter the Trick or Treat competition in Kalos because she hadn't been caught in a pokeball and I didn't have a competitive League license or anything with her registered to it. It was just a mess. But I wouldn't feel right entering a competition without a Mismagius.

So basically a ghost trainer friend that was in Kalos at the time had a Misdreavus egg, they let me meet the parents and I thought their offspring would fit well with me, so they gave me the egg, and Stella is the Misdreavus that hatched! She wound up wanting to evolve, and she took well to battling. Luckily she was as excited about the competition as I was!

- Karma / Silverthorn, Aegislash: I keep alternating between names for her, even though it's been a few years since I caught her. She answers to both. I met her in the wild in Kalos, she was a Honedge then, and I wound up liking her fighting spirit so much, I trained hard enough with her that she could be on my Trick or Treat roster too!

- Squirrel: This is a Phantump I met in Kalos. I didn't use her in Trick or Treat because she didn't want to evolve, and frankly I think she was too young and shy for the intense competition. But she's a delight to play with and she keeps the more energetic Misdreavus occupied when I can't entertain them!

- Shadow: Another Murkrow I met in Eterna Forest. She and Murky got pretty deep in courtship before I took her home, and luckily she liked the idea of raising her broods away from the cut-throat flock politics of the wild.

- Nila and Shade: Two Misdreavus I met when I went to Alola. Nila was originally a candidate for breeding a battle line, but Shade wound up having a much fiercer and more loyal spirit. (He's an odd Misdreavus. There's really not much that amuses him, not even people screaming. But though he doesn't have a lot of patience, he has a very stable temperament! Excellent under pressure.)

Anyways, Nila's more for contest/show lines now, she also does well under pressure and has a lot of elegant movement that looks lovely in appeals.

- Diva and Berry: These two are Mimikyu from Alola. Diva was the first one that approached me, and after she played with me and my team awhile, she wanted to come with us. Berry was a bit of an accident. Berry actually only came out when I was playing with Diva; I think she mistook her cries of excitement for cries of distress! And oh my ARC, Berry's a heavy hitter! She likes to stay home and cuddle and play, but she's fiercely defensive of her family and she's a wicked powerful team member when I go anywhere we might battle.

- Alolan Mismagius: He doesn't have a name yet, but he also came from Alola! He just came up to us one day while I was letting everyone try the beans, and after feeding him too, interacting a bit, he watched Missie and Mistress play like they were in a double contest, he was so intrigued, and I complimented him on how handsome he is, and then he insisted I take him with me. How could I say no?!

- And, of course: 45 other Misdreavus, give or take. The most permanent and consistently-present residents are Starpoint (bred from Mistress+Trick), Sheera (wild-caught), Thorn (wild-caught), and Figment (bred).

There are also sometimes a Pokemon or two I'm fostering or having my Pokemon "tutor" for another trainer. Or for another breeder; occasionally I have a stud from someone else, or one of my studs staying elsewhere for awhile. Breeding business, you know.

So the thing with Misdreavus is they don't usually "settle down" and live in one permanent home. They have a favorite place to sleep, but they wander. They don't make the best house pets unless you *really* make it comfortable for them to be around. (Not too bright, not too loud, a constant source of fear/amusement, something/someone to socialize with, space to roam or taking them on walks once a day, etc.)

Even in the wild they wander quite a bit, and frankly I don't have the space indoors to keep them entertained. At any given time, a few of them might wander off into the forest, or further, and some of them have covens in the forest they still tend to or want to check on. Some wander off around October and April, and sometimes they don't come back. They don't always tell me what they're doing, a lot of them just laugh at my confusion. Mistress just calls it "ghost business".

Raising ghosts is weird.

[picnokinesis]

I was gonna do this in the tags but I actually wanna make it a proper rec list to give some of my favourite artists some love haha, so sorry op, feel free to ignore this. But! Using the metric of monthly listeners on Spotify, since it's the only metric I have (and since Spotify Wrapped just dropped), here are some of my favourite little guys:

Chncer - 77 monthly listeners - discovered these guys listening to a radio show about local artists when I was up in Carlisle for a few days. They haven't got much music out but I love their song Put the Sun in My Hand

Beautiful Boy - So, these guys don't seem to be on Spotify, but they have 143 subscribers on YouTube. They have this song called But You Do that I absolutely adore, but I can't actually find it anywhere anymore, other than an acoustic session that they did here

Breakbeat Heartbeat - 696 monthly listeners - if you like sad chiptune music, then these guys are for you haha. Really love the tracks You Were My Friend, Constellations, and I Need You

Brolly - 7,435 monthly listeners - these guys have a fantastic album called Wolfe which I love a ton, but especially the tracks They Run, They Hide and Love Grew Legs (which has made me cry more than once haha)

Unknown Chapters - 7,488 monthly listeners - these guys are such a vibe. Highly recommend the songs Born and Bred and Frozen Bones

Blackchords - 15,541 monthly listeners - I think I discovered these guys through their song Into The Unknown, but honestly their entire self-titled album from 2009 is fabulous, especially the track Broken Bones

The Jerry Cans - 15,731 monthly listeners - I only found out about these guys a month or so ago, but they are SO so fantastic. They include a lot of traditional throat singing which is sounds so cool (especially when they get the violin to kind of mimic the pitches of it). Highly recommend both the albums Inuusiq and Echoes, and especially the songs Ukiuq, Nirliit, Qaumajuujusi, Havava, and Atauttikkut

There Will Be Fireworks - 24,875 monthly listeners - absolutely love these guys. Their album The Dark, Dark Bright is one of my favourites, it's SO good. Highly recommend the songs River, South Street, Something Borrowed, Roots, and Bedroom Door

Voice of Baceprot - 32,959 monthly listeners - these guys are genuinely so so awesome. Highly recommend PMS and School Revolution, but they also do some sick covers so I recommend checking out their live shows!

Twin Pumpkin - 37,287 monthly listeners - I need to listen to more of this guy, but I am soooo obsessed with their song Monolith

Wake Owl - 51,475 monthly listeners - these guys have this gorgeous EP called Wild Country which is just sooooo so good, especially the songs Wild Country, Gold and Grow

Okay I think I'll leave it there for now, although I'm sure I'm forgetting some. Special shout out mention to some artists that I think less people will have heard of but had a bigger monthly following than the above and so didn't quite make the list:

Luca Wilding (Book of Fate, Carmen)

Racing Glaciers (the entire Caught in the Strange album, and the Don't Wait For Me EP)

Wojciech Golczewski (the album The Signal, and The Priests of Hiroshima)

aeseaes (Carrion Comfort, All in Blue)

Civil Twilight (Oh Daniel, Holy Dove, Human, and Letters from the Sky)

Barcelona (Come Back When You Can, Lesser Things - please listen to Lesser Things - and Response)

Matthew and the Atlas (the entire album Morning Dancer, the entire album Temple, To the North, Out of the Darkness, Counting Paths)

Bloodywood (who are like, well known in certain circles but not others haha - listen to everything they've ever written though ALSO NEW TRACK ON FRIDAY and I am going to be SO normal about it)

Anyway hope someone enjoys this lol. Talk to me about music I love so much music

enough about taylor swift already. reblog and tag the smallest, least known artist you listen to

[wizardingworldlibrary]

House Elves Masterlist

A Boy Named Draco (ao3) - JillianK draco/harry G, 46k

Summary: Draco Malfoy is born a squib and is rejected by his parents. Raised by Dobby, Draco grows up to be a kind and humble boy who may prove to be more than what he seemed. Completed.

A Place Apart (ao3) - Metalduck M, 239k

Summary: Sick of the Dursleys and resolved to missing his few friends if it means getting away from the people of the Wizarding World and their nosy whispers, Harry gets the idea to leave it all behind for a while, just a bit, just for a rest. Like a camping trip, except he’ll take enough provisions for a year or so…maybe some plants, seeds and things for a little garden. Maybe some time away from the things that weigh him down will help the constant highs and lows he’s been feeling for a while now. Just a little break.

(Or, the one where Harry says TTFN and takes himself off on an indefinite vacation and upsets a few very careful plans.)

As Soon As He Can (ao3) - Trex_patronus T, 114k

Summary: For someone who planned on dying, Regulus Black hadn't given much thought to what would come after. For him, it's becoming a ghost, and hunting horcruxes with his idiot brother and company. Yay.

Dobby's Help (fanfiction.net) - HermionePotter1989 M, 97k

Summary: At the end of his second year Harry helps to free Dobby and learns some surprising things in the process. How will Dobby help him?

Dobby the Christmas Elf (ao3) - Amintadefender T, 3k

Summary: When Draco Malfoy, in a fit of rage, tells Dobby to give Harry the "bestest Christmas ever," Dobby runs with the idea to give a young Harry a Christmas he'll remember.

Fortress (ao3) - DragonflyxParodies T, 12k

Summary: Sirius has spent all year watching what has happened to his pup, catching up on what he has missed, and he was too distracted with Peter then to dwell on it but Albus never ordered him a trial, and Sirius is a Black, born a Black, bred a Black, trained a Black. He’s hidden so successfully behind pranks and smirks that those who knew him have forgotten –

In which Sirius takes matters into his own hands.

Found Family (ao3) - Doctor_Who_Cares draco/harry E, 148k

Summary: Snape rescues Harry from the Dursley's, & sets in motion a chain of events that might give him & Harry the chance at building the family neither of them ever really had.

Hand that Binds (ao3) - ianthewaiting hermione/lucius E, 221k

Summary: After years, Lucius Malfoy thought he could have a peaceful life, alone. He learned how to take care of himself, found comfort in the small things, and then Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt signs the Pureblood Marriage Law. Lucius is suddenly drawn back into the world, this time with a sly, seditious wife he did not ask for. The allure of the chaos of his past, and the fact Lady Malfoy wants to overthrow the government, is far too tempting to ignore. Maybe old dogs can learn new tricks, after all.

My first and only attempt on the Marriage Law trope. Slow burn, lots of political maneuvering, and Lucius Malfoy being a god of sex.

Love and Other Unsafe Medical Practices (ao3) - Tedah draco/harry, hermione/ron, daphne/blaise E, 116k

Summary: Love is a lot like surgery: sometimes you have to take risks to succeed and most times there are unexpected side effects.

Harry is back in a hospital room after an Auror sting gone wrong and nobody is amused at this point. It's starting to become somewhat of a familiar scene for Ron and Hermione. This time his healer is one Draco Malfoy so it's actually a /little/ funny when something goes wrong during recovery.

The Bestest HouseElf (ao3) - grenouille G, 1k

Summary: Dobby - devoted servant and loyal friend. What would it take to prove himself a hero? AU. Post final battle.

The Phoenix Potion (ao3) - FedonCiadale hermione/draco, harry/ginny, neville/pansy, luna/blaise T, 237k

Summary: Twenty years after the battle of Hogwarts.... Harry is head auror and is worried about cases where Muggleborn children meet with accidents, Ron is a famous Quidditch keeper. Both haven't talked to Hermione for ages and certainly not to her husband, Draco Malfoy. Narcissa Malfoy struggles with a curse, and Neville and Luna try to stay friends with all. The key to solving the problems may lie in the past, a time nobody really wants to revisit and some can't.

The Resurrection of House Black (ao3) - Morgue13 G, 122k

Summary: The one where Hermione needs Harry to be safe.

---

Harry. Harry wasn’t safe.

Harry needed to be somewhere safe this summer. He had watched Cedric die. Watched Voldemort return. Been tortured. Seen his dead parent return while he duelled the man who murdered his parents. All during a tournament he was forced into and consequently vilified for by his peers and Britain’s wizarding world.

Harry needed to be somewhere where he could be sad and angry and scared and not alone and safe.

Where was safer than Hogwarts?

[libidomechanica]

The lofty walls, and faces pale

A ballad sequence

               1

So oft as pure ignorance     perplexing way, your tears, till held Juan sleeping, with tears. That bonie     face you shall rise and root

up the neck of you,—and wandring     her house. With all the whole wreath, you nearly sank behind her,     bynd with retching single

souls had run their eyes had places,     one by one so by tilth and grace by no means can those lamping     eye; but he’s growin’

yet. Birth the medicines for they     mix in one sigh the might have but from delicately wed;     I am not so safe

for his daughter, died despair o’erwrought:     you purchasing one, the figures, and what a stake, or     were force, but faith: we can,

the rocky isle; and in its breasts     must feelings have loved me kindness done, shall know the will, and     see, ’ quoth he that high to

his own case, attempred sprites     goe visit her best she is a stone, more by night a sum     of yours, hath bred hys smart,

but I cannot silent traces     of the tough ones that suit the gently encage, that they toil’d,     and in your braine again,

and dancing, or in his grave, derives     it not. Of whose applause I must leave no one that so     they also get a son.—

And there, his noble ends. There pride     the clock thee of which there to-morrow, this strong youth and later     light: but who shall get.

               2

If you permissions, match’d in tears.     But we find the grave, and never way wither’d like Achates,     faire countenance—round the very weakness we would have     done much more would take such precise in these have look’d the second     ran away: agayne

my wrong: we served in twelve books; each     to every science as a magic sights, for Love. They heard     of a pleasanter than an enormous room for his parent’s     fall. They only add them lie, to make her selfe doe make:     and thou shalt not be

pathetic, but the old connection     to shonne: for some Zephyr caught may thee more I fynd their arms,     seems the watch’d, they sang; and many a morsel for the moon’s?     Finding no custom of thee. Underneath the destroyer     yet have three present made

her presence out of sacred bowre.     And put new stings to my Propertius. Her form withdrew itself,     who sat apart the outlet the young and Breath and roll     the Gods in great fame, and muttered catalepsy’. As they     do? ’Re things doth run his

glory in Mens fall, the tenth Muse,     ten timely grange; rapt from our brighter than the treacherous     hate! Fare there survive in spinning! And crown and her eyes; and     they are free from me now, and yet she did not to force describe     it, though love’s delights

thy mystic leaf has perish’d, plunge     for him, at last, to glide, like coarsest clothes against all rules     for any overmuch; i, the distances seem’d almost     a patriot’s shame, this inquisition, to fight themselves     away. A quiet as

the sea is not much sense of one     whose minds comprehend all their course, pass’d: her guilefull net,     in hollow heart to moue; if he wept at length of years she     next December. That a tight themselues to scorne base thing.     At least ’s a single

inky whisker. The worst: never,     as I believe not weigh’d upon the grief that for shore just     were eggs, and delight, and lash with such sights, the well know—no     more, and look on Simo’s mate, and call the express of thy     beauty bound, the totem.

               3

Let not my properly accept     a better to have known her like a new one, remoue. Me dy.     When all thee after step.

               4

Came, some by a private tutors. And the bag of     their fountain roe, with blessing, Baba, when their AEneids, Iliads, and then we maun part that     the wrong. Tis as the sun your semblant trew. And, light as I sail to see again, my luve’s     like this, and whispers to the Morning

brevity. Why dost though her to think and all     that holds a bee, for one replied them all as spotted: ocean warring gainst female love     as we descends this the gay, and who should haue err’d in the nighest reached the other who     was a fine examples of Grecian

girls, black old negro’s confidence in the happy     bells, do you know solitaire? Nor runlet tinkling with morning, my sweet self dost go, since,     exceeding sagely from the hopes of alarming child’s mouth opens thick with pasted-     on leaves, and he, he knows what we just

when the tangle him to his complaint? The shepheards     God of her breast he turns once more;—the door, which I doo admyred to view of hell’s in     the dust of changed to satirize or flatter; wives in love and in mystery, and     purgatives, by some aqua-vita.

               5

No wing of the past, a soul     contrary effect; but three or four times before god shut the     woodbine blows so much to

quote; you started them dresses from     time to cause the soul? But now unpunished is. Not I. He     mutter’d, omitting sways,

yet is, was square, because to grieve,     Deare Heart in pain, and every kind of the song i’ve been sent     thenceforth, thought ungather’d

round her well! My light on earth and     bliss in glance the truths transgressions fit. In pleasure lost his     minute. All the down, unloved,

thought it would not be a dumpy     woman. His royal penchanter’s night, had past the chaste     liaison of the type she

smiled no more to see a lady     of Shalott. But those old niche in the gods in sky, that sunset     glow, and hopes of foul

disease; he did not rail without     sometimes in white and Minerva when shall the bitch in them     cause to proue your shore, resting

down he looks are finish’d eye,     or dress was made a home of living smoke, dark yew, that nether     with all the record

with one word to say how, nor can     I indeed. And when we call these have been still vouchsafe my     plain—oh might hath gives no

record some glancing, which like cherubs     drawn the absent wrong’d four grave; because, no doubt vast eddies     in your chance doth smiles,

that cannot under heir might ail     the thinks my friend, too, of air, to be alone in law. And     scandal’s my aversion.

               6

Their nuptial to thee my true loue what I do to     the time of words are scatter’d the Widdowes daughter, vie withal to guide-books, rhymes, touch     the same; what proper way which comforted her hew: she had loved, thought of womankind, although     the moon the mask of seed, and moves about the bee, that gaine eternall peace on the     wind or ruffling shoal and heard no sound

the imagined it vnto glasses abstract it give     your trouble I beheld what reason I’m so melancholly mindful of the apple,     and sky were the town; found a lodgment. And she what I was borne: and wishes, of whose race     of his youthful joys the fly pursue: night and daughter’s heart’s best brother claim another,     barter, or sea, the sweetness from a

learned into the waste the Shadow cloak’d from the     bank of kisses; the kindly face where once more sure at heart unclosed and look through all     climes, as most, a name, Don Alfonso was with dark her maid relies to place of rest by     that finer, simple meant by the garden- gate; a kind of party strife, although it is     the enormous room for Death, they carried!

Most glorious lightly promise did the can     reaches that passenger e’er pukes in, turns up more disagreeable an ancient form     that I, considerate Hotspur on the beech: we heard about the yellow; of azure,     pink, and his wife, his brief bright road to evil; the bud will received thee beds of sloth; nor     shuddered aloud, like glorified work

to time came murmur’d, as I have prey; although hidden:     which? And Syrinx daughter. No doubt upon most dauntless ills, the spite; ring into Johnson’s     way, and waving, we find a strongly it repayre. So long in wealth, the fruit without     its thorny; and which I fain would breakers thought it againe, and wade in vaine bubbling child,     assume theirs, not mine! A dim red planets

the blindfold sense, good appetite. Juan wax’d in     golden afternoon, a faint dying sways, yet is, was he,—though so much delight, the wet     leathern caps, and Odysseys, were one not here; perhaps the sky for ay from the public     approbation I expect? Him in his hearth, all those pains, for a scapegoat. Full of sleep,     and let this world. When he will not see

them, and pitying and Breath and round her fair large     blacks and much more; or, crown’d with Florian, unperceiving in their sakes—that he that fitted     well, helpe me to pleasant scandals made them fray: agayne my forces late discover     the Parliament, of air; and soda- water through page and places the lash to Baba:     but her own aversion as now; day,

mark’d of by the just enough to set a ringlet     curl’d, the chalice of bamboo and sometimes lovely plight, that atmosphere of Love, call to     giggle. The prey of worthy most, tis to the greater could do nae man but that did your     selves without a shadowy mood; I was made about his hands. Come away: the story     of their years that every little than

such madmen’s father bloodless dash of billows; paced     therewithal an answers, Let one rude wind constant eye, delight: the listen, so long     date. What which once each calumniated queen attendant,—one young, and saffron, daggers at     the labouring seal’d book to life, and some odd thought hers gave them onward from Saint Bartholomew     we had got: to feel that count

the silent be, my heart endears—that Juan slumber’d     lots; the eyes so filled with cold hearts; they must thy sight; he loves to strike no more to get up     part of men. A fresh from him escapt away: but mine owne decay we’re made three dead, of     whom too cruel. But that lighten all light: but somehow, this odd travelling it was base as spoile,     and coming up a branches loud;

and show’d its power and green; who broke and blacks were     missed or mocked; the night nor day had signs or fortune fly which makes it because their fashion,     and Cowslips, as she ought; but all within the oak but more; no longer, and their deep     desire what to me? She said, as true! The gems entangled in a barre again, and their     desperate doors have done, since Adam

linger late footing thought o’ Mary Morison.     Flowers, the Shadow sits a look back over the cabin-window of a little while     we breath: I think once more sober Muse— come, let’s go and leap the recreant traitors seek the     empty airless air: but he, more modesty she shall not as idlers do, and take off     our count bad what may begin, shrinks from

a handsome suit of clothe the mother, when the distance     lay under the game from the barren bush flits by her silence, still too true. This short     my day, I admired, yet lost ere you they more a life with false and free, who had power,     and have seen while I with inward state is tost with it, Follow, follow’d at last death     left side or song, thy sire increace.

               7

Remarkable at times a day.     Some corpses grinning, but in the good with guifts are gone and     Fancy lives the works because

he please,—the more than all so     forecast they who studies fervently the sheaves, and teach him     oppression of a close

implide, with mares; his revel may     surcease. Full before growing, or worthy tride, t would upbraid,     and new, hived in

Greece, the downs a rising fire. Dove,     with one of mine. Special person through they country and lay     down by that forged a name?

[tastydregs]

A Woman Barely Feels Pain and Heals Rapidly. Scientists Are Unraveling Her Weird Genetics

Scientists are starting to crack the mystery behind one woman’s pain-free life. In new research, a team in the UK dove deep into the genetic make-up of Jo Cameron, a woman in Scotland with a rare mutation that leaves her practically incapable of experiencing physical and emotional pain. Among other things, the team found that her mutation seems to turn on and off a variety of other genes, including those linked to wound healing and mood.

A Mononykus Hunts In ‘Prehistoric Planet’

Researchers at University College London detailed Cameron’s story in 2019, though they had first started studying her in 2013. At the age of 66, the woman had undergone hand surgery but remarkably needed no postoperative anesthesia afterward. A year earlier, she was diagnosed with severe joint degeneration in her hip but had none of the expected pain as a result. Throughout her life, she also reportedly felt little anxiety or fear and seemed to heal especially quickly from cuts and bruises.

When UCL researchers studied her extensively, they discovered two genetic mutations that appeared to explain her resilience, both connected to a pain-related enzyme known as fatty acid amide hydrolase, or FAAH. One was a deletion in a pseudogene (a region of DNA that resembles a gene but doesn’t code for a protein) that the team would go on to name FAAH-OUT; the other was in a gene nearby to the one that actually regulates FAAH.

Other studies have found that FAAH plays an important role in controlling our sensation of pain by breaking down a neurotransmitter that binds to our cannabinoid receptors. Studies of mice bred without the FAAH gene have shown that they experience less pain, for instance. But the woman’s unique condition—and the mutations that caused it—indicated that there are other ways that pain sensitivity can be influenced by our genetics.

Now, in a study published Tuesday in the journal Brain, the same UCL team is closer to understanding the underlying mechanisms behind the woman’s mutant powers.

The researchers used a variety of methods, including the gene editing technology CRISPR, to study the effects of the woman’s mutations on human biology. As expected, they found evidence that FAAH-OUT regulates the expression of FAAH itself. Her FAAH-OUT mutation seems to directly reduce levels of the enzyme, for instance. But they also found that the mutation appears to turn off and on hundreds of other genes. Some of these genes influence how fast we heal from wounds, while others affect our mood or levels of the body’s natural opioids. The findings also are the latest to show that so-called junk DNA has plenty of importance.

“The FAAH-OUT gene is just one small corner of a vast continent, which this study has begun to map. As well as the molecular basis for painlessness, these explorations have identified molecular pathways affecting wound healing and mood, all influenced by the FAAH-OUT mutation,” said senior study author and UCL researcher Andrei Okorokov in a statement from the university.

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Like any novel discovery, these findings will have to be validated by others. And even a pain-free life doesn’t come without struggles. People with these conditions have to be especially careful to avoid ignoring or missing serious injuries, for example. But the lessons learned from Cameron’s genetics could very well pay off in the future. Despite some early promise, pain treatments based on affecting FAAH directly haven’t panned out. But this research suggests that there are other avenues to try, and the UCL team is already planning to do so.

“As scientists it is our duty to explore and I think these findings will have important implications for areas of research such as wound healing, depression and more,” said Okorokov.