#malaria tag

[go-to-the-mirror]

trips over a rock into your inbox. DALEK UNIVERSE YOU SAY. DALEK UNIVERSE FIC. DALEK UNIVERSE

YEAHHH!!!

Ok, the stuff I've written is... not a lot, so I'm just gonna put them under the cut.

The Doctor sits against the small door to the engine room, staring out the window opposite him. From this angle, he can't see the space station, only blackness and specks of light. They've been flying for about half an hour — to be more precise, thirty-two minutes and twenty-seven seconds — and they’ve barely said a word to each other. Anya walks down the small corridor. “I've put on the autopilot,” she says, and sits down next to him. The Doctor doesn't lean into her, doesn't take comfort in her closeness. Even androids are fragile, and Anya’s only human. “He's gone, Anya.” His voice is hollow. “Mark's gone.” “I know.” It's a statement of fact, as all exterminations are. You can't survive that, you just… can't. He knows this better than most, and yet here he is hoping beyond reason that this time it's different. “I lost him.” Again. The latest in a long line of casualties, people he failed to protect — friends he failed to protect. “I lost.” The latest in a long list of people killed by the Daleks. Finally, he leans into Anya, because he can't do this alone. Neither of them can. Finally, the Doctor moves. He gets up, and opens the door. “I need to…” He waves the device as way of explanation and

(Untitled [1])

“This is boring,” the Doctor announced, for about the thirtieth time that hour. “This is the most bored I've ever been in my life.” “Really?” Anya asked, looking up from her phone. “Not really,” the Doctor admitted. “There was this one time I had to stay still for seven centuries.” “How’d you survive that? You're like, so VAST.” “Vast?” “Variable Attention Stimulus Trait,” Mark 7 answered. The Doctor could’ve slapped himself. He'd been spending much too long in the 21st century, but in his defence, they did keep changing the names of mental disorders. “It's irrelevant, VAST is a disorder affecting human brains–” “–And he's not human,” Anya finished. “Fine. Time Lord VAST. He's hyperactive enough.” “It's actually more about dopamine–” The Doctor sighed and shook his head. “You don't actually care, do you.” “Not really.” “Points for honesty, I suppose.” Anya hummed and went back to her phone. “So,” the Doctor shifted in his seat and threw his legs up onto the empty one next to him. “Mark. How've you been?” “You've been with me this whole time.” The Doctor sighed again. “Yeah, I know, it's just a conversation starter.” Neither of them answered him. “Fountains of conversational material, you two are.” “Go talk to someone else, Doctor.” The Doctor groaned, but got off his seat and walked over to where an elderly woman — or he assumed they were a woman — sat reading a quilting magazine. “Hello,” he said, sitting down on the chair next to her. “I'm the Doctor, what's your name?” “Tiffany,” she responded. “It's lovely to meet you, Tiffany.” The Doctor smiled. “You're reading about quilts. I like quilts. Bit fond of… quilting. Quilted quite a lot, in my past. Quilts… quilts, quilts, quilts. Quilts isn't even a particularly fun word to say, and yet… I keep repeating it.” “I can tell,” Tiffany said, in that disapproving way only old women could truly muster. The Doctor winced. “I'll just… I'll just be going, then. You'd prefer that?” Tiffany didn't respond, but harshly turned the page of her magazine in a clear dismissal. The Doctor slouched his way back to Anya and Mark 7. “How was your socialising?” Anya asked, no looking up from her phone. “Bad,” the Doctor responded. “What're you looking at?” “Nothing,” said Anya, clearly looking at something. The Doctor put his legs up at the back of the chair and hung upside-down. “Well, I woke up today–” “What are you doing?” “Singing!” Anya let out a long suffering sigh. “Sometimes I feel, I've got to. Run away; I've got to. Get–” the Doctor cut his singing off. “Nothing?” There was no response. “There’s a starman waiting in the sky. He'd like to come and meet us, but he thinks he'd blow our minds.” There was no reaction, so he switched songs. “With the taste of your lips– Nothing? You people, no cultural references. They played Toxic at the end of the world!”

(Untitled Document [5])

(Also, VAST is a suggested rename of ADHD that I quite like, so I'm just going to say it got renamed to that at the time Dalek Universe takes place.)

[chronal-anomaly]

Thinking about Lena being sick as a dog when they were doing her pre slipstream vaccination batteries

[elektroblues]

tagged by @cherry-pop-soda thanks cherry <33

open pinterest, make a moodboard out of the first nine pictures that show up, and tag your mutuals :)

tagging @fluffonthefloor @staticspxcelover @hoch-rot @jeffament @aliennasaprincess @inyourroomalbumversion @hulubalanggeneration02

[wellenklavier]

tagged by @elektroblues :D

harder than i thought it would be to fill this out 🥴

tagging (no obligation :p) @cementgoth @renedemarie82 @kingtrigger @zemnarihah and anybody else who wants to :)

[asterisk395]

#you might be right and I don’t like it #dungeon meshi #note: because of his study of them he’s also hysterically good at disarming people w guns #and destroying their weapons in the field #and then he…takes the guns he won (stole) apart and uses the parts to augment his armor? #not sure about analogy for eating here (via tanoraqui)

The thing about Dungeon Meshi is that if you translated it into modern world, the most exact translation to Laios' monster fixation would be having a special interest in guns. Like the society around them looks at the monsters the same way - these things are dangerous and kill people, and if they cannot be eradicated, then the best that can be done is to reduce their numbers and minimise the amount of damage they do, one way or another. And then there's this guy.

Imagine being Mr. "My entire family was gunned down when I was a child and I will do whatever it takes to end gun violence" Kabru, who's heard a lot about this fascinating man who seems smart and competent and knows exactly what he's doing, and when you finally meet him, This Fucking Guy is just like "yeah rip to your family and I don't think it's cool that they kill people but it's so fucking cool how they kill people. Check out how fast this thing can fire 10 000 bullets hard enough to penetrate a human skull."

[hellsitegenetics]

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banned from BLAST for being too sexy

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this blog posts BEASTIES and ORGANISMS. if you are uncomfortable with seeing any manner of organism (spiders, rodents, fish, etc) please block the tags for that organism before following/browsing. for broad categories: i tag in plurals (insects, bugs, spiders, fish, rodents, parasites, pathogens, plants, trees, etc.) for specific organisms: i tag in singulars (dobsonfly, eurasian harvest mouse, etc.) for disease causing bacteria: i tag the illness it causes (malaria, botulism, etc.) for additional phobias: i tag with the specific phobia ("tw trypophobia", etc.) ADDITIONAL BUG WARNING: this blog posts a LOT of insects, especially moths. FOR SCREENREADER USERS: by the nature of this blog, 99% of my posts will have large sections of unformatted letters, and therefore aren't very screenreader friendly. i apologize. If I ever miss a tag or you'd like to request that I tag something, please send me a message.

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homestuck

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thank you for reading! as a treat, enjoy this Trichosanthes cucumerina, or Snake Gourd flower.

[ancient-rome-au]

You wake up tomorrow morning and find yourself inhabiting the body of Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius (who reigned 161 to 180 AD). After quietly ordering the assassination of your narcissistic and cruel son Commodus (staging his death to appear as a natural illness) and naming a more qualified heir…

Totally natural if you want to address multiple issues, but your political capital is scarce. Which is your top priority?

[suddenlydaggers]

(for anyone not aware, the film in question is Fitzcarraldo)

also here have this zero context quote ✌🏻

whos werner herzog?

Absolutely batsh*t crazy german director… migh have seen him on the mandalorian as the “I would like to see the baby” guy..

but

hes most known for his murderous feud with Klaus Kinsky…

And for directing a movie where he had 320-ton steamship moved over a hill…through a jungle..Bunch of people died during filming…. A peruvian logger who was helping on the set was bitten by a deadly snake so he cut off his own foot with a chainsaw so the venom wouldnt spread…The lead actor Kinski was such pain in the ass for everybody that people offered to kill him for Herzog.. At one point Herzog himself held Kinski at gunpoint… and thats only small fraction of the things that happened..

… i find him and his work to be morbidly fascinating

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

The Grand A-Z List of Whump 2/3

This list contains ~174 items listed I to Q

As always, I heavily encourage people to research topics thoroughly when writing as it is important to avoid stereotypes/misinformation. This list's intention is not to glorify/romanticise sensitive topics in any way.

This is a comprehensive list of injuries, Illnesses and tropes - including those from the Whumptober 2023 trope vote!

All submissions are listed in italics, and those who wanted to be tagged will be included at the end. If you have any more submissions: please send them via DM/my ask box.

[A-H] [R-Z] [NSFW List]

List below the cut:

I

ICU

Identity reveal

Ignorance is Bliss

Ignoring an Injury

Immersion foot syndromes (Prolonged exposure to damp and cold)

Immobilization

Immortal healed wrong

Immunodeficiency

Impalement

Improvised medicine/treatment

Indigestion

Infected (Blood, Wound, Tattoo etc)

Infested

Injured caretaker carrying an even more injured whumpee.

Injured whumpee instructs caretaker how to treat them.

Injury Discovery

Injury Revelation

Insecurity

Insomnia

Insults

Internal Bleeding

Interrogation

Interventions

Intimate whumper

Intubation

Involuntary whumper

Isolation

Isolation/Quarantine

Itching

J

Jailed

Jamais vu (The experience of being unfamiliar with a person or situation that is actually very familiar.)

Jealousy

Jet Lag

Jumping (to safety, forced to jump)

Just dying in general.

K

Keeping quiet because the enemy is nearby

Keeping the whumpee awake

Ketosis (body burning fat for energy)

Kidnapped by the opposing team

Kidnapping

Kidney Stones

Killed! (Again and again and again for the lovely immortal whumpees&lt;;3)

Kneeling

Knife through hand and into wall/floor

Knocked Out

L

Lab Rat

Laryngitis

Late realisation

Left for dead

Leprosy

Lichenberg scars/Lightning strike

Limited Medical Supplies

Live-Streamed/Broadcast torture

Lobotomy

Locked Up and Left Behind

Losing a Bet

Loss of appetite

Loss of reality

Lost (In the woods, city etc)

Lost voice

Low Blood Pressure

Lumbago (lower back pain)

Lupus

Lured into a trap

Lying

Lyme's disease

Lymphoma

M

Magical exhaustion

Magical healing

Magic whump (using spells to harm someone)

Manhandling

Major Character Death

Makeshift Splints

Malaria

Malnutrition

Manhandling

Mauled

Measles

Medical trauma

Medieval Torture

Memory Loss

Meningitis

Menstrual Cramps

Mental illness after being kidnapping (and addressing it)

Migraine

Military lovers

Military whump

Mind control/Manipulation

Miscommunication

Missing

Missing Person

Mistaken Identity

Misunderstanding

Mono

Mopping a sweaty brow with a cool cloth

Mudslides

Muffled Scream

Mugging

Multiple Sclerosis

Multiple Whumpees

Multiple Whumpers

Mumps

Muscular Atrophy

Mute

Muzzled

N

Nailed to a wall or floor

Nails digging into palms

Nail marks left in the whumpees skin

Natural Disasters

Nausea

Near-Death Experience

Necrosis

Neglect

Nerve damage

Nerve pain

Nightmares

No anesthesia

No goodbyes

Non-responsiveness

Nonhuman whumpee

Not allowed to die

Not Realizing They’re Injured

Nowhere else to go

Noxious (gas/fumes)

Numb

Numbness/Paralysis

O

Obsession (with finishing the mission, the whumper obsessed with the whumpee etc)

Open Fracture

Orthostatic hypotension (low blood pressure when standing)

Osteogenesis Imperfecta (brittle bone disease)

Outnumbered

Overdose

Overworked

Oxygen Deprivation

Oxygen Mask

P

Packing a wound

Panic attacks

Paralysis (this could be temporary or permanent)

Paranoia

Parent caring for sick child

Parkinson's

Passing out from pain

Passing out in arms

Permanent injuries that affect them long term

Phantom pain

Phobias (could lead to character stumbling and hurting themselves in an attempt to escape their fear)

Photographs/Polaroids ( Especially if they're of the kidnapped whumpee)

Physical Therapy

Piercing ripped out

Pinched nerve

Pinned Down/To The Wall

Plague

PMS

Pneumonia

Pneumothorax

Poisoning

Polio

Possession/possession recovery

Post-exertional malaise

Post-ictal confusion/any other symptoms (after a seizure)

POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome)

Power Fatigue

Praise (especially if it's from the whumper)

Pregnancy (morning sickness, self-conscious, hot flushes, tired and sleepy, general malaise, swollen feet, weird cravings...)

Presumed dead

Prisoner Exchange

Protecting friend from the whumpees own team (bonus points if doing it while injured)

Psychological Torture

Psychological Whump

Psychosis

PTSD

Pulled Muscles

Puncture Wounds

Q

Q-Fever

TAG LIST: Thank you very much to the following people for submitting ideas! (I apologise if some tags did not work, I'm not sure why tumblrs not letting me tag you!)

@I-eat-worlds | @greygullhaven | @letsgowhump | @cyberwhumper @firapolemos05 | @originaldeerhottub | @whumpilicious | @drawing-dinos82 | @carenrose | @stellarinuscronicles | @gottheseasonalblues | @marvelflame2010 | @sowhumpful | @avamcu | @courtneygacha | @lordofthewhumps | @autismmydearwatson | @kuddelmuddell | @the-most-handsome-ginger | @whirls-and-swirls | @painsandconfusion

[ollyvoile]

Add your reasons, if you like!

Other people have added these:

• Yellow fever @notoverjoyed

• Scurvy @monitorchakas

• Lymph disease @wyrmalien

• Diphtheria ( I couldn’t fit this one)

• Malaria “ye olde marsh fever” @bombadilbaddie

• Scrofula “The King’s Evil” @hasturswig

Edit for all the people telling me “uhhh tuberculosis still exists”: I know! :) In fact, all of these sicknesses still exist. In the modern world we live in, however, most of these are only prevalent in developing countries, and certainly not to the extent they once were.

[sachyriel]

peer reviewed tags

Huntress

[chimaerakitten]

Malaria, Sickle-Cell, and Dragons in the Temeraire Universe

so I've been thinking about sickle cell all day because of the very cool real-life FDA crispr treatment approval news, and also I'm just about done rereading empire of ivory so thusly it is time to write the sickle cell/malaria/dragons/benefits of human-dragon mutualism breakdown I mentioned ages ago.

Standard disclaimer that I am not in fact anywhere near an expert on this, this is mostly recall from ANTH 102/215 classes I took five years ago, the info is very simplified and possibly somewhat out of date. I'm doing some quick checks and I write this but only enough to make this an appropriate fantasy novel fandom post, not enough to make it actually reliably informative. I do have a couple citations, but mostly for the parts I'm lifting straight out of a class assignment I wrote, and they're a short documentary hosted on YouTube and the textbook for the class. also none of my links are live because I want this fandom post to actually show up in the fandom tag lol.

second disclaimer is I'm starting at the basic obvious stuff because I genuinely have no idea how much most people know about this and better safe than confusing.

Intro and Background

So the first thing to know about any of this is that human genetics for the most part to not operate on mendelian inheritance. So the punnet squares in high school biology that did human hair or eye color as basic dominant/recessive one-gene traits were totally lying to you. Like they're a teaching tool for a very simple model that works well enough but they're not accurate. Most human phenotypes are way way more complicated genetically than that.

That said, there are exceptions. Mendelian traits (Characteristics that are influenced by alles at only one genetic locus) do exist in humans, a number of them being related to genetic diseases. The list in the ANTH 102 notes I just dug up was: Wet (dominant) or dry Earwax; Albinism; Brachydactyly (dominant); Blood type (ABO, not the positive/negative part); Hereditary breast-ovarian cancer syndrome (BRCA-1, BRCA-2, unknown genes); Huntington’s disease; Lactase persistence (dominant); and Sickle-cell disease (recessive).

So the sickle cell punnet square looks like this for two parents who both have one copy of the sickle cell gene:

Sickle cell is a very painful and life threatening disease, (That's why the FDA approving a crispr treatment for it allowing patients to be their own bone marrow donors is very exciting.) and from an evolutionary perspective, one that very often prevents people from reproducing. It's also not strictly dominant/recessive, in that people heterozygous for sickle cell can have some symptoms like the possibility a sickle-cell crisis triggered in low-oxygen situations (high altitudes, intense exercise, etc).

So one might think that Sickle cell would be a vanishingly rare disease, since having it can be deadly and even having the trait can in some cases cause problems. Only it's not rare by genetically inherited disease standards, not at all.

And to make a long story very short, the reason is malaria.

Malaria

People who are heterozygous (possessing one sickle cell gene and one normal gene) for sickle cell anemia are resistant to malaria. In areas of the world without a high incidence of malaria historically, there is a strong selection against the sickle cell gene, (Biointeractive Malaria and Sickle Cell Anemia, 9:33) but in areas with malaria, both having sickle cell disease (homozygous HbSS) and not having the trait at all (homozygous HbAA) are selected against. People with sickle cell were historically less likely to reproduce, and people who were not resistant to malaria were more likely to die of malaria and also not reproduce. Because being heterozygous with sickle cell is selected for, the gene persists in the population.

The implications of that are best summed up from this map that I just stole from Britannica.com:

I dunno if the percentages on that second one are accurate tbh, other infographic maps I'm looking at give different ranges. but sill, you get the gist about how common it is in equatorial Africa. In the modern United States Black children are much much more likely to be born with sickle cell than white children—the genes don't just go away when the threat of malaria is removed. (And yeah, that's a historical consequence of the slave trade.)

There's some other stuff wrapped up in here too about bio-cultural evolution: There's indications that malaria was not a “significant problem until humans abandoned food foraging for farming” (Haviland, W. A., Prins, H. E., Walrath, D., & McBride, B.). Humans cleared away the forest, which had kept the soil absorbent. Without the vegetation, more water built up on the surface, forming stagnant puddles which were a perfect environment for malaria-causing mosquitoes to thrive, thus creating the conditions for sickle cell anemia to be advantageous. Farming creates caloric surplus which is great for humans, but it also changes the environment in ways that can be detrimental. Malaria is one way, creating the conditions for other epidemic diseases to thrive is another, etc. etc.

But if you've read this far you're probably going "Chi, you promised this would be a fandom post but so far this has been a serious and kind of sad post about disease. when are you going to get to the dragons?"

The Dragons

So the first time malaria comes up in the Temeraire books is in Throne of Jade, when a bunch of the sailors on the Allegiance come down with "malarial Fevers."

Jane, I must ask you to forgive the long gap in this Letter, and the few hasty Words that are all by which I can amend the same now. I have not had Leisure to take up my pen these three weeks—since we passed out of Banka Strait we have been much afflicted by malarial Fevers. I have escaped sickness myself, and most of my men, for which Keynes opines we must be grateful to Temeraire, believing that the heat of his body in some wise dispels the Miasmas which cause the ague, and our close association thus affords some protection. But we have been spared only to increase of Labor: Captain Riley has been confined to his bed since almost the very first, and Lord Purbeck falling ill, I have stood watch in turn with the ship’s third and fourth lieutenants, Franks and Beckett. Both are willing young men, and Franks does his best, but is by no means yet prepared for the Duty of overseeing so vast a Ship as the Allegiance, nor to maintain discipline among her Crew—stammers, I am sorry to say, which explains his seeming Rudeness at table, which I had earlier remarked upon.

I do not know enough about what people thought about malaria in the 19th century to be 100% sure that this is actually malaria, but I think Novik wouldn't want to confuse her readers by calling something malarial that isn't you know..malaria. So I'm going to assume thats what it is. Google is not giving me figures on malaria survival rates before modern medicines for it which is driving me kind of nuts and means I can't say how lucky Riley and Purbeck were to survive with apparently no complications, but that's not the point here anyway. The point is the comment about the aviators not getting sick.

And not only (mostly) not getting sick, but not getting sick even though they aren't actually always near Temeraire. Laurence for example has been working watch shifts near constantly because he's the only one left on the ship who knows what he's doing. That means probably less read & cuddle time than is normal for him and Temeraire, and yet—no malaria.

We modern readers (and Novik) know that malaria is not caused by "miasmas" but by parasites carried by mosquitos. And lo and behold when we get to Empire of Ivory we get:

Mosquitoes sang happily as dusk drew on, though they did not come very close to Temeraire; the flies were less judicious. The shapes of the trees were growing vague when Temeraire woke with a start and said, “Laurence, there is someone coming, there,” and the grass rustled on the opposite bank.

So yeah, the dragons are keeping the mosquitos away. I know fuck all about why—it's probably not heat since you know, mosquitos like warm blooded organisms, but maybe it's an oil or a chemical or some artifact of the way some of them can breathe fire that's present in all dragons or something, they're described as smelling weird a few times, so who knows. If it's a substance like an oil in their skin that could explain why the aviators don't get sick even when they're not nearby, since they could have some on them from contact, but that's just speculation. The point is not the mechanism, just that it's happening.

The Point

This whole post grew out of a throwaway comment I made about the benefits of mutualistic symbiosis with dragons from the human perspective in that one post about how the series has some interesting stuff obviously going on psychologically/biologically. The point of going in-depth on malaria and sickle cell is to show how this is really impressively solid worldbuilding in relation to the Tswana.

See, Empire of Ivory describes locations that seem like they're in modern day Botswana, Zimbabwe, and Zambia, regions which will have had long-term problems with malaria-causing mosquitos. That's not the densest area for sickle cell, but still definitely in the region where malaria would have exerted selective pressure.

Selective pressure which, in a universe where just being around a dragon is going to drastically reduce malaria rates, is going to leave dragon-friendly populations a lot healthier than dragon-unfriendly ones. A community that has a dragon stay every night and work alongside humans during the day is going to have a lot less malaria even without the sickle cell resistance than a community which has no dragon. And considering that malaria is bad enough that sickle cell genes persist despite it also having a high chance to cause a deadly disease, whereas a dragon that's a fully prosocial member of the community is not going to cause more death and instead will probably help with defense and create more caloric surplus (at the cost of consuming most of that surplus) a dragon is just obviously the better option. From there, it's extremely easy to see how the Tswana in the series could develop such a dragon-centric culture and have it be so wildly successful. The dragons provide fertilizer, the dragons allow for fully domesticated elephants, and the dragons render malaria—one of the deadliest diseases in history—nearly a nonissue. Of course they're family.

Citations:

Biointeractive. (2014, August 26). Malaria and Sickle Cell Anemia - HHMI BioInteractive Video. Retrieved October 3, 2018, from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zsbhvl2nVNE

Haviland, W. A., Prins, H. E., Walrath, D., & McBride, B. (2017). Anthropology: The Human Challenge (15th ed.). Boston: Cengage Learning.

[theboywithburninghands]

Okay this is probably the last time this is gonna happen BUT I have a third chapter of Arranged Marriage Funnybunny for you. I have ZERO idea if it's up to snuff, but I tried and I have results. Oh, but fair warning, some dark subject matter is discussed, since the time period the story is based around sucked for everyone. Be careful, okay? Oh and uh @fernstarsblog and @variberii you wanted to be tagged so here you go if I did it wrong I'm sorry uuuuuughghghg T/W: Discussions of abuse (no actual abuse just overpanicking anxiety and discussions of the backwards-ass laws in place), era-appropriate sexism, tobacco use Primum Peccatum Ch. 3: The One Thing We've Got

The mustang skidded to a halt in front of The Shutnyk estate. Pomni shakily dismounted the horse, losing her footing on the stirrups and falling onto the cobblestone of her mother’s garden. She knew she was in for a world-class punishment when she got into the house, but, truth be told, she didn’t much care. Her plan to join the clergy failed. She had sobbed herself dry and ran herself sick. She was too exhausted to be angry anymore. She just wanted to wash up and lay down. Surely tomorrow she would feel a renewed sense of rage at her situation. Tomorrow she would scream herself hoarse at her imbecile parents again, and that repugnant Krolik family and their son. But for now, she just wanted rest. 

The mustang shook his harness, snorted, and cantered off into the night. Pomni watched him go until he had reached the main road, turned with a whinny, and galloped westward towards The Gray Church. She then turned and plodded towards the house. Her shoes chafed her heels, rubbing the previously dormant blisters angry red again. Her father would no doubt sit her in his study and reprimand her for hours about how disloyal and ungrateful she was. He might flog her. Perhaps she wouldn’t even be allowed back into the house, and be forced to sleep outside, the mosquitos draining her of all her blood and poisoning her with malaria. It was what she deserved… How could she return home after the way she acted, the things she said..?

She felt the metallic, salty taste of tears hover in her throat before the front door opened, casting a shaft of lamplight across the stone path. Pomni covered her face with one hand and squinted her eyes at the sudden intrusion of light. 

“Pomni..!”

She waited for the inevitable shouting to begin. She expected a sharp hand across her face as soon as she lowered her hand. 

“Ms. Pomni, are you quite alright?” 

The person silhouetted in the doorframe was neither her mother nor her father, it was-

“Zooble!”

The caretaker of the manor walked carefully down the porch steps, reaching Pomni and hovering their hands out as if to catch her in case she fell. 

“Goodness sakes, Miss Pomni, you look…”

“Awful.” Pomni finished for them. 

“…I was going to say ‘a state,’ but now that you’ve said it, yes, you look awful.”

Pomni managed a weak smile. Zooble’s dry wit managed to somewhat ease the tension.

“Mother and father are going to be so angry with me…” she sighed.

“Indeed. But they’re out looking for you right now. I’m the only one here at the moment.” Zooble replied. 

Pomni let out a groan of relief. At last, a tiny sliver of luck… 

“I know it’s late, Zooble, but could you draw me a bath…? I’d like to at least not dirty my bedclothes…”

“I agree. I don’t enjoy the idea of you bringing that fetor hovering around you into the house…” Zooble said. “I’ll warm some water for you. You can stay in the foyer to avoid any more bugs… But ONLY the foyer.”

“Thank you… Truly, thank you.” Pomni sighed. She could have hugged them for their kindness, but if they were correct about her stench, then perhaps not. She followed Zooble into the manor, removing her shoes and sitting on the bottommost step as they climbed the staircase up towards the bathroom.

“…Zooble?” Pomni called. 

Zooble turned to look at the bedraggled girl halfway up the stairs, their claw still on the banister. 

“You said… my parents were out looking for me” she continued.

“I did.” 

“…Did they say anything about… a search party? Or any other person or shapeperson helping them look for me?” Pomni inquired.

Zooble thought for a moment. “…To my knowledge, no. They spent a good quarter of an hour bickering before taking off in the carriage.”

“…I see. Thank you.” Pomni said before turning back to the front door. Zooble looked at her a moment longer before heading up the stairs to fill up the washtub. 

—

Pomni spent the wait for her bath gazing anxiously at the front door. She expected to hear the hoofbeats of the family horses, Maple and Juniper, and the clattering of the carriage’s wheels at any moment. Her livid parents would burst into the room, see her sitting barefoot and stinking on the bottom step, and then…

That moment never arrived. Zooble had the bath heated and perfumed in a half an hour at most. How they managed to work so quickly was a mystery, but one Pomni hadn’t the energy to ponder. 

Getting the chance to immerse her insect bites and the blisters on her heels in warm, frothy water was an experience Pomni might have equated to The Allfather’s embrace in The Hereafter. Absolutely transcendental. She felt herself nodding off while submerged up to her nose in the bath, kneading shampoo into her scalp and thoroughly scrubbing with the loofah to keep herself awake. She picked a few bits of twig and other grime out of her hair and behind her ears. As much as she would have liked to remain soaking a bit longer to ensure her welts would disappear by morning, she didn’t want to be awake for her parents’ return. So she reluctantly dredged herself out of the bath, toweled off and slipped into the nightgown Zooble left hanging on the bathroom door. 

She entered her bedroom. It was sparsely decorated, exactly how she liked it. Just the red-orange mahogany wardrobe, her canopy bed with frilly white bedclothes, and her library book perched upon her nightstand, her oil lamp placed beside it. Her window overlooking the garden was thankfully closed. She sometimes forgot to shut it in the warmer months, which inevitably led to hunting down every mosquito and gnat that bumbled into her room with a swatter or a shoe. 

She drew the bedclothes aside and climbed into her bed. She truthfully hadn’t expected to sleep in here tonight, given her outburst and escape attempt, but she hadn’t expected any of the events that would transpire when she woke up that morning. It was difficult to fathom that all of this marriage nonsense only happened this evening, it felt like a lifetime ago. 

Before she had a chance to muse on the subject any longer, however, her eyelids drooped and exhaustion ushered her effortlessly into slumber. 

—

A thunderous knocking at the door roused Pomni from her sleep. Panic briefly flared in her belly, believing it to be her parents, returned from their search, demanding entrance into her room so they could punish her. However, she saw the whitish glow of daylight filtering through her curtains. She slept the entire night. 

“Pomni! Buongiorno, Pomni!” her mother called from the opposite side of the door. “Hurry and put on your clothes, dear, the Kroliks will be here any moment!”

She heard footsteps retreat down the hall towards the staircase. Pomni scratched the sand out of her eyes, managing to pry herself off of her mattress and look about her room. A gaudy red dress hung on her bedroom door along with some new red pumps and stockings laid out neatly in front of her wardrobe. She heard her mother and father talking heatedly downstairs, something about whether or not someone had reminded Zooble to polish the silver. 

The Kroliks… Oh, blazes. Her father did say something about meeting with them yesterday. Had she slept through to the afternoon? From how exhausted she was, it wouldn’t surprise her. 

She slid out of her bed, plodding over to her wardrobe and opening one of the doors, examining herself in the looking glass hanging on the other side. Her hair was sticking up in odd places due to sleeping on it damp, but her mosquito bites were practically unnoticeable. She checked her heels. There were some raised, tender areas where her blisters had been, but they no longer hurt unless prodded. 

She found her hairbrush in the wardrobe and combed her hair down until it was no longer protruding in odd places, a reasonable imitation of her usual bob cut. She looked at the outfit her mother had chosen for her and let out a long exhale through her nose. Red and blue were her favorite colors, but they were more suited for paintings or flags, not dresses. That ostentatious red dress, with its puffy sleeves resembling half-deflated balloons, looked like something one might wear to a masquerade party at most. Only it was missing the sweet anonymity that a mask would grant her. 

Pomni already felt anger bubbling up inside of her again. So it was time to meet the man she was being pawned off to. As a financial favor for his already wealthy parents. A man that she’d never laid eyes on. She could vomit. In fact, she might, right in front of everyone. Maybe that would make this Jax lose interest. 

She thought about putting on one of her usual dresses and going downstairs, but she presumed that she was in enough trouble already after fleeing last night. The only reason she was back here at all was that awful shapeman with the huge teeth. Some ruffian not even Zooble knew about forced her to ride back to this sham. If she ever saw him again, she would take that cane of his and-

She heard the front door open and her father speak.

“Ah, welcome, welcome Sirs and Madames! I’m positively tickled to have you here! Come inside!” 

They were already here. 

Pomni hurriedly grabbed the dress and pumps and rushed to pull them on. This was so unfair, she didn’t have enough time to stew in her anger! She managed to get into the dress, pausing a moment to see how she looked in the mirror. She looked… like a child, wearing her mother’s clothes. Her head poked out of the dress like a puffball mushroom. Outstanding. Truly, she was the envy of Thumbelina. 

There was another knock at her door, quieter this time to keep up appearances in front of the guests.

“I haven’t put my face on, yet.” Pomni grunted.

“Va bene, but be quick. They’re waiting for you~!” Mirella sang. 

“I am truly blessed this day, ” Pomni sneered, although her mother took no notice of her sardonics, heading back downstairs to speak to their guests. 

Pomni took her time doing her face. Nothing special, some powder, foundation, a thin eyeliner and blush. She never wore lipstick. The texture made her feel nauseous.

Pomni took a deep breath. She briefly thought about leaping out of her window and making a mad dash for the pier. In these shoes, she’d probably snap an ankle as soon as she hit the cobblestone. She spritzed herself with some perfume, bit down hard on her tongue to keep from screaming, and exited her room.

“Ah, here she comes!” 

Mirella stood a few paces away from her daughter’s room, no doubt on her way to hurry Pomni along once again. Beside her stood a beastwoman, a tall, dull orange rabbit humanoid in a soft pink sundress. Pomni met her eyes for a moment and immediately glanced away, feeling her scalp begin to itch. 

“Pomni, this is going to be your new sister-in-law! Her name is Kaylee!” Mirella explained. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Pomni kept her tongue between her teeth, waiting for frustration to subside enough for her to follow the insipid social guidelines. She curtsied, glancing up at the beastwoman for as brief a period as she could.

“How do you do..?” she said glumly. 

The beastwoman curtsied back. “Charmed to meet you, Miss Shutnyk. Oh, and if you’ll pardon me, Mrs. Shutnyk, my name is Kali. ‘Kah-lee.’ Don’t worry, it happens all the time.”

“Ah, my mistake. Oh, look at you, Pomni, you’re gorgeous! I knew that dress would bring out the blue in your eyes! Turn around, I want to see  lolhow it fits your body!”

“Mother…” Pomni pleaded. 

“Don’t be so shy, Pomni, just one little spin!” 

Pomni bit hard on her tongue again and spun in a quick circle, her arms rigidly at her sides.

“Oh… it looks perfect! My little fashionista! Pomni, come meet the others!”

Mirella led Pomni downstairs into the foyer. Four rabbit beast men stood in a semicircle chatting, before they all glanced up at Pomni. The largest of them had blue fur, a veritable wall of a beastman in a black tailcoat, gray trousers and tall, brown boots. He smoked a briarwood pipe, chewing the end contemplatively as he looked up at Pomni. The three others were much trimmer than the blue one, but were dressed similarly, waistcoats complementing their fur color, tight trousers and tall boots. One rabbit was hot pink, another charcoal gray, the last one forest green.

“Well…” The green fellow in a brown tailcoat suit eyed Pomni with noted interest. 

All four pairs of their yellow eyes fixated on Pomni made her want to collapse into vapor. Mirella trotted downstairs with ebullient energy, 

“Here she is, gentlemen! Your newest member of the family! Pomni, this is the family patriarch and your soon to be father-in-law, Mr. Drexl Krolik!”

Mirella motioned to the largest rabbit in the room, the one with blue fur. He took his pipe out of his mouth and expelled a short plume of smoke.

“H-How do you do..?” Pomni said, curtsying again. She heard the green rabbit give a rather unsubtle snort.

“How do I do?” Drexl echoed. “I’m doing rather well. It’s splendid to finally put a face to a name.” 

He offered a paw. It was about half a size larger than Pomni’s. 

“Oh, Pomni, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. Beastfolk usually greet one another with a gesture called a ‘handshake.’ All you nee-” 

Pomni held out her hand and shook Drexl’s paw. His grip was unsurprisingly firm, but Pomni squeezed his massive hand with all of her own strength in kind. 

“I know what a handshake is, mother. We learned about it when I was six years old.” 

The green rabbit let out another snort. 

“Ah- Yes, er… anyway, these three gentlemen are Jax’s older brothers.”

The three rabbits behind Drexl all came forward. 

“My brood,” Drexl said, motioning to the pink, gray, and green rabbit. “Altonicus, Osvaldo, Boone.” 

“Greetings, miss. Everyone calls me Alton.” Altonicus said, shaking Pomni’s hand with both of his paws. 

“How do you do..?” Pomni replied.

Osvaldo, the gray rabbit, merely nodded and shook Pomni’s hand. 

“How do you do..?” Pomni repeated. 

The green rabbit, Boone, put his hand out. 

“How do you do?” “How do you do?”

Pomni jolted a bit as Boone parroted her salutation at exactly the same time as she did. He grinned wolfishly and put his hands into his jacket pockets. Pomni felt her face grow hot. 

“Now, has anyone seen Jax? I could have sworn he was here just a moment ago…” Mirella asked.

“Ah, he requested that he’d like to meet Ms. Shutnyk alone. For… ceremony’s sake, I believe.” Alton spoke up. 

“He always did get cold feet with an audience involved.” Boone said with a chuckle. Drexl sniffed. 

“He’s in the library.” Osvaldo said. 

Pomni chewed on her tongue. The library. The first thing he decides to do is invade one of her sanctuaries uninvited. She loathed him. 

Kali left Mirella’s side and went to join Alton, who linked arms with her fondly. They must have been married. Pomni wondered if their marriage had also been arranged… 

“Well don’t be shy, Pomni! Go and say hello!” Mirella prodded. 

Pomni looked at her mother and swallowed. Her mouth and throat were drying out. 

“Mother, about what I said last night… I’m sorry.” she said abruptly.

“Oh dear, what happened last night?” Boone inquired, tilting his head with curiosity. Osvaldo rolled his eyes.

“Boone, hold your tongue.” Drexl grunted, not even turning around. 

Mirella smiled. “Oh, darling, water under the bridge. Zooble told me that you came back right as we left to look for you. But enough about me, go see Jax! Go on, shoo!”

Pomni turned and walked across the foyer to the library. As she passed the entrance to the dining room, she saw her father and Zooble discussing something privately. She met both of their eyes. Her father stared a moment then turned his gaze away. Zooble simply nodded. Pomni nodded back. She was in their debt… 

She reached the door to the library, steadied herself, and entered.

The library was a small, sunny room, the East wall lined with windows that looked out onto the back garden. It brought in plenty of natural light, to the point of almost not needing the oil lanterns placed here and there. Oak bookshelves lined the west wall, the door to the dining room right beside them in the Northwest corner. 

There was the soft clink of something glass behind her, and Pomni turned. In the Southwest corner, leaning against the wall with a book in one hand and the other in his waistcoat pocket, was another rabbit. Purple, unlike any of his brothers, and a good deal slimmer. He wore a gray waistcoat, slightly lighter gray trousers and black boots, with a crimson ascot tucked under his chin for an extra shock of color. 

Jax glanced her up and down. He, like his brothers and father, had yellow eyes and a wide set of teeth. His smile must have been enormous, but at the moment his affect was flat as a board. 

“Are you going to say anything?” Pomni asked, putting her hands on her hips. 

Jax looked at her for a moment longer. “Do you want me to?” he replied. 

“No.” Pomni turned away, staring out the window at the back garden. 

The honeybees enjoyed her mother’s azalea bushes. It was always a pleasure to simply sit and watch them work, gathering pollen from the pink-red blossoms, when a book wasn’t maintaining her attention. This could be the last time she ever watched those bees on those flowers… just another tiny moment of hundreds taken from her by her parents’ imbecilic idea… 

She spun around to look at Jax again. He looked up from the book he was reading, or pretending to read. 

“Just so we’re clear, Mr. Krolik. I didn’t agree to any of this. I don’t know you, I don’t pretend to know you, and I don’t pretend to know your family. If I could find any escape from marrying you, I would in a heartbeat.”

Jax looked her in the eyes, which made her begin to itch all over. She maintained eye contact for as long as she was physically comfortable before looking back out the window at the azaleas. Jax looked back down at his book, licking his finger and turning the page.

“What? Are you dumb? You have no response to any of that?!” she demanded.

“You told me to say nothing. I’ve said nothing.” Jax replied, not taking his eyes off of his book. 

“You-” Pomni bit her tongue. It was so tempting to grab that book, HER book, out of this hand This… This ingrate was who she was trapped with for the rest of her days?!

Jax closed the book with a loud clap, sliding it back on the shelf. He then turned to look at Pomni. 

“You’ve met my family,” he drawled. 

“I shook their hands. I wouldn’t say I met them.” Pomni retorted.

“I was told you dislike being touched. That was brave of you.”

“And who told you that?” Pomni demanded.

“Your mother. She’s quite amiable.”

“Then marry her and leave me in peace.”

Jax chuckled, and Pomni felt a deep need to drive her fist into his stomach. 

“I appreciate your wit. I’ve been told that you humans often lie to put up appearances to avoid risking your reputation. Clearly, this doesn’t apply to you.” 

He took a few steps closer, Pomni taking an equal number backwards.

“Don’t come any closer.” Pomni hissed.

Jax sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Listen, Miss Shutnyk. I understand that you’re incensed.  But a marriage is a marriage. Our families have made the proceedings.”

“I’m well aware. Why do you think I tried fleeing to join The Gray Church? It was to avoid being wed to a stranger!” Pomni retorted. 

“That I didn’t know. You continue to impress me.” Jax grinned for the first time. His smile was indeed enormous, stretching almost wide enough to cover half of his face. 

“You continue to make me feel ill.” Pomni snapped, but Jax’s smile remained unfettered. 

“I assume you’re frightened that you’re going to lose your autonomy completely, yes? That you’ll be treated like a prisoner that cooks and cleans and looks after the children we must inevitably have.” 

“Please stop talking.” Pomni replied. 

“Is that what you want? I don’t think it is.” Jax shot back, keeping that confident smile. 

Pomni felt something inside her burst. Anger rushed through her body. She marched forward, grabbed Jax by his waistcoat and pushed him into the bookshelf, knocking several books onto the floor.

“What does a mooncalf like you know about what I want?! You don’t know the first thing about me! I bet you’ve never thought about anyone else in your entire life!”

Jax, initially taken aback by her sudden burst of fury, regained his smile.

“You don’t know the first thing about me either. I’m hurt that you think I’m some kind of narcissist. Now, would you please let go of my coat? I’m rather fond of it.”

Pomni looked him in the eyes before letting him go, turning back to the window. Jax dusted himself off and picked up the books that fell off the shelf, neatly tucking them back into their places. 

“As I was saying… you’re worried about losing your autonomy. Well, let me offer an olive branch by saying I don’t intend on taking it from you.” 

He dusted off his paws and slid them into the pockets of his waistcoat again.

“To our families, this is business. Nothing more, nothing less. They don’t care about how we feel. So let me assure you right now, I’m not going to touch you or make you forfeit anything you care about. We don’t even have to share a bedchamber once we get our own house.”

Pomni glared at him. “I don’t want to marry you at all.” 

“I don’t want to marry you either. But like I said before. There’s no way for us to get out of this, so we might as well make it painless. Correct?” 

Pomni looked down at the floor. Was he being… serious? Or was this another cruel joke life was trying to play on her? “...How do I know you aren’t just feeding me lies? You’re telling me what I want to hear so I’ll be glad to marry you, and then you can mold me into the perfect little housewife.” Jax frowned. His hand fiddled with an object in his jacket pocket. “You really are a presumptuous little thing, aren’t you?”

“What did you just say?!” Pomni snapped. 

“Ms. Shutnyk. I’m well aware I can’t make you trust me. But think about this. If I wanted to make you a perfect housewife, I wouldn’t need to hide it.” 

Jax walked past Pomni and looked out into the back garden as well.  

“If I desired, I could tell you that you were going to have seven children, and if you so much as hesitated to acquiesce, I could hit you. Starve you. Probably worse. And why? Because the law allows it. Did you know that there’s a law in place that makes it just about impossible for a woman to initiate a divorce? It states-”

Pomni interjected.

“It states ‘In order for an appeal for divorce issued by a man’s wife to be legally viable, an officer of the peace must witness the husband engaging in physical or mental abuse of his wife or child.’ Section 3, Subsection 5, Paragraph 2. You’ve forgotten that my father was your father’s magistrate.”

Jax smiled at her. “Of course. So, when I say that I don’t intend to make you perform any wifely duties apart from wearing a ring and living alongside me, I’m being truthful.” Pomni stared ahead for a long time. 

“...Prove that you’re being truthful.” she uttered after a time. “How can I prove that, Ms. Shutnyk?” Jax asked with a tilt of his head. His long ears bobbed with the motion. 

“Lie with me. You’re going to tell my parents and your father that we’ve had a long, insightful discussion. We’re going to say there was more to one another’s character than we initially thought, and that we can’t wait for the day of our marriage. And then you are going to walk out of my house, and not return until the ceremony. Our parents have everything planned already, so there is little further to discuss.”

Jax Krolik smiled once again. It was uncanny, certainly, but something about it was… interesting, to Pomni. “Then come along, ‘Mrs. Krolik.’ We have a lie to spin.” He offered a hand. Pomni looked at it like a foreign object. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, quirking an eyebrow. “Well, we have to make it somewhat convincing.” Pomni rolled her eyes and took his hand. The two of them exited the library, motes of dust flickering in the beams of sunlight. 

[valiantstarlights]

Omegaverse Lore: Blue Fingers Disease

As with the previous omegaverse lore post, I talked about this on @mr-sadman discord, and I'm also posting about it here because sharing is caring. 😊 Again, feel free to use this in your omegaverse stories, as long as you give credit/tag me. Thank you! 🥰

Huge thanks to @sleepsonfutons for coming up with the official medical term for the Blue Fingers Disease, and to @arialerendeair for reminding me to post the lore! 🙇‍♀️

Thermal Dysregulatory Sensorineural Myocarditis (TDSM), or as it's more commonly known, The Blue Fingers Disease, is a Secondary Gender Disease that can happen to anyone, regardless of their secondary gender, as soon as they reach their majority.

CAUSE

Rejection (or apparent rejection) by one's potential mate.

SYMPTOMS

1.) Low body temperature and unnaturally cold skin

The longer the person is experiencing this disease, the lower their body temperature gets.

This symptom is easier to spot in alphas, whose body temperature run hotter than betas and omegas.

2.) Discoloration of the fingertips

Fingertips during early stage TDSM are a shade paler than the person's skin, while later stages of TDSM sees the person's fingertips turn into shades of blue that grow darker the more the disease progresses.

Fingertips that are almost dark blue are advanced cases, as the person could literally die at any time if not provided with immediate care.

(A sure sign that a person's cause of death is TDSM is when the person has blue-tinged lips immediately after their death, along with dark blue fingertips. The blue shade does not fade over time.)

3.) Intermittent tremor in the hands and poor grip strength

4.) Lethargy

5.) Memory loss and/or confusion

6.) Tendency to space out

7.) Lack of appetite

8.) Vulnerability to seasonal diseases

These include, but are not limited to: the common cold, influenza, and pneumonia, as well as mosquito-borne diseases, such as dengue and malaria.

TREATMENT

Receiving care from other sources, such as family and friends, is a tried and tested way to cure TDSM. But the recovery is slow (taking months or years) and the person is still considered at risk until the blue on their fingertips fade completely.

The quickest way to fully cure the person, of course, would be if they fall in love with someone else, or if the person who initially rejected them returns their love. If this is the case, then it is not unheard of for the person to be cured of TDSM in a single week, though it would still take a couple more weeks for the symptoms to fade completely.

That being said, it is important to note that multiple studies conducted worldwide show that it is more common for TDSM to be cured by the care of others versus the person's feelings changing or their feelings being requited by the person who had initially rejected them.

DURATION

There is no set time for how long this disease lasts until the afflicted person dies. There have been cases where the person only lived for a couple weeks more after the rejection happened, while in rare cases, the person lived for decades after the rejection, before they finally die around the same time as their beloved.

One of the most famous long-lived cases of people who lived with TDSM is St. Francesca,* which caused early Christians to start referring to TDSM as St. Francesca's Disease.

(*It is said that St. Francesca fell in love with a married man and, realizing that it was against the teachings of the church, prayed to God to let her live so she could serve Him all her life.

However, recently discovered evidence suggests that Francesca was actually in love with her fellow nun, Sister Cordelia, who was one of her childhood best friends. When devout Cordelia decided to enter a convent upon her reaching her majority (a decision supported by her religious parents), Francesca allegedly ran away from home to join her.

She had written a note to her older brother that she made the decision to run away 'with both eyes open,' knowing that Cordelia will never return her affections, but willing to suffer TDSM (she used the term The Internal Winter) if it means still being a part of Cordelia's life.

Multiple sources write about how the two remained best friends until their later years, often claiming that Francesca and Cordelia are 'true sisters in the eyes of the Lord,' and that it is rare for one to be seen without the other.

St. Francesca died less than a day after Sister Cordelia did, at age 79, after having TDSM for more than 60 years.

Due to this, people are now theorizing that Sister Cordelia is an aromantic asexual, but that she still loved St. Francesca as her dearest friend, so Francesca did not succumb to the illness or get too sick, as others with TDSM do.

People from their hometown have asked for Sister Cordelia to be made into a saint as well, and they have commissioned statues of the two women to be made. The statues will be placed in the town square, and will depict the two sitting by the fountain, with Sister Cordelia warming St. Francesca's hands.)

There have been claims that the stronger the feelings of the person are, and the harsher the rejection was, affect the time in which the disease accelerates. And while this is a trope often used in literature and popular culture, there is no scientific basis for it as of yet.

STATISTICS

The Blue Fingers Disease is one of the top 10 leading causes of death worldwide, with more than 80% of the people who died being betas and omegas.*

(*As TDSM is more easily detected in alphas, it is possible that betas and omegas often get misdiagnosed with depression during the early stages.)

SECONDARY GENDER DISEASES AWARENESS MONTH

February is Secondary Gender Diseases Awareness Month. The month was chosen primarily for easy recall, as it is the second month of the year. However, February is also the month when new cases of TDSM spike worldwide, due to everyone everywhere celebrating Valentine's Day.

--

Note: In the original discussion, this was supposed to be an alpha-only disease, but for the sake of all the delicious angst, I say it's up to you to decide in your stories who can have this disease. 😊 Enjoy!

[static-x3]

"yeahh thats- mildly concerning at best-"

[I looked at his closed chestplate before glancing to the extending corridors of the castle, remembering the reason I was here in the first place]

"but all that aside, I've still got plenty of the castle to see, right? Are there any other places here you wanna show me?"

"I heard from a little moth that someone was a tad... jealous?~"

wELL I uh I just I . Uh I jsut I mean well uhh m .I m jss t kind of well I just u h I just i just um well you know I just-

UGh

maybe a little.

,,,,maybe a little bit more than a little.

,,,,,,,,,,maybe just the throwing - my - pillow - at - the - wall - then - screaming - into - it amount