#plenty of us however find it no more special than any other day and most of us don't celebrate it to the exclusion of like other holidays

[tavina-writes]

feeling a lil uncharitable in this house tonight so simply going "a person who writes a silly story about their blorbo celebrating a holiday is not actively trying to perform a microaggression," to myself through gritted teeth. "someone trying to justify why they would write a silly story about blorbo is also not trying to be a fucking racist" I say to myself again.

But also what is with people trying to justify their Christmas AUs for Chinese characters. Do people think we have no real holidays of our own? Why do they think that. Can someone explain to me why, I'm waiting.

[feeder86]

Shame

Greg had been desperately in love with Bill. It was a head over heels, all encompassing, world-absorbing sort of love for him after they had met at a bear bar downtown one year ago. Bill had been older; quite a bit older in fact. However, that hadn’t been the quality that had raised the most eyebrows. Bill’s size, his enormous, giant belly and overall spherical shape had made people question what a good-looking twenty-one year old like Greg had seen in him. Sure, Bill was grumpy and not especially interested in many of the things that Greg was into, but he was good looking and beautifully fat. At almost four hundred pounds, Greg felt proud that Bill was usually larger than most other guys they met. He loved rubbing the enormous gut and admiring the hefty, thick butt on his man.

A ‘chubby chaser’; that was the phrase Bill always used to describe Greg and, for the most part, he was happy to go along with it. How else was a guy in his late forties going to score a sexy young guy like Greg unless he embraced the part of him that his lover found so unrelentingly appealing?

Greg was starting off on his career after college and, for the first time in his life, he actually had some real money in his bank account. He’d gone about dispersing it like there was no tomorrow, spending, spending, spending as much as he could to show Bill how special he was to him. No cute oversized shirt was bypassed when he went shopping and Bill often found himself returning home to find the refrigerator stocked with plenty of delicious snacks for him to eat.

In those days, Greg had been living in a small, tired-looking house at the edge of town. He managed to buy it outright, using an inheritance he’d had some time before, when he’d lost both of his parents in a car accident, back when he was first away at college. That had been tough. But, despite the circumstances, Greg knew he was lucky to have a place of his own at such a young age. Although, the joys of property maintenance were soon to find him. Within a couple of months of moving in, it was clear that the house was goign to need a lot of money spending on it. Greg knew nothing about DIY and his four hundred pound boyfriend was even less interested in helping him out. 

Jeff’s add in the local paper had caught Greg’s attention, mainly because of the cheap hourly rate he was offering. When he arrived at the door, Greg could definitely see why. Jeff was barely nineteen years old and trying to make a living in construction and as a general handyman. He had the look of a guy who had been a fair athlete in school; tall, broad-chested and with tight little glutes that pressed temptingly against the fabric of his cute work shorts. Like a dirty old man, Bill had been fast to point out how attractive he thought Greg’s new hired worker was. He sat on Greg’s couch, admiring the handsome boy’s physique as he strutted in and out of the house, back and forth to his van for more tools.

Trying to fight the urge to feel jealous and inadequate, Greg did his best to laugh along and go with it. After all, what harm could his boyfriend’s innocent crush on a nineteen year old straight guy really do? Plus, he had to admit, he’d developed quite the soft spot for Jeff himself, despite being quite some way off his usual ‘type’. Perhaps it was that handsome face, deep voice, pleasant manner and overall skill that he had in working with his hands. Whatever it was, as the time went on and Jeff spent more and more time at the house, Greg couldn’t deny that he’d been thinking about his handyman, rather than his actual boyfriend when they’d had sex on occasion. 

Things hadn’t lasted with Bill. For that, Greg blamed himself entirely. Bill had been quite clear when he said that he was fine with his size, but that he didn’t want to get any bigger. However, Greg simply hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d pampered and overcatered for his larger boyfriend until the inevitable pounds came piling on, bloating Bill to almost 450lbs before he finally had enough of Greg and ended things when he got offered the chance for a big career move.

To say that Greg had been heartbroken would have been the greatest of understatements. He remembered not being able to eat, not wanting to go outside and certainly not imagining any sort of future for himself. But time didn’t stop for a broken heart. Those desolate weeks of despair rolled on, turning to months and then years. Greg built his career and was soon thinking about moving from that poky little house he had once loved so much.

Choosing a new place that needed a little work didn’t phase Greg in the slightest. Knowing how well Jeff had worked last time, he hadn’t hesitated giving him a call the moment his offer had been accepted. Sure, the guy’s day-rate had gone up somewhat, given his experience and the demand for him around town, but there was no way that Greg could imagine anyone else doing it. When he turned up, that familiar, breathless attraction that Greg had felt a few years before came fluttering back. It seemed like the physical work had agreed with Jeff immensely. He had bulked up into a more muscular frame. His tight, glutes had morphed into a large, muscular butt and his enormous chest had become defined with bulging pecs and festooned by strapping shoulders. Greg’s eyes flared with interest when he caught sight of the large biceps Jeff had acquired, that pretty face only growing more handsome with age. 

Jeff was now well known around town and it was clear that Greg was unlikely to be the only homeowner with a crush on him. When they spoke, Jeff had been sad to learn that Greg and Bill hadn’t lasted long and seemed to remember the days of working on Greg’s first house with some fondness.

“I thought you two were very well suited,” the handsome guy smiled.

“Well, you were the only one then,” Greg chuckled. 

“You absolutely worshipped the ground he walked on,” Jeff continued, sympathetically.

“I think that was sort of the problem,” Greg sighed, remembering how frustrated Bill had become towards the end with Greg’s endless fussing and overfeeding of him.

“His loss,” Jeff smiled, giving Greg a quick, friendly slap on his back. “One day, I’m sure he’ll look back and realise how good he actually had it with you.”

Greg smiled too, remembering how his chats with Jeff had always made him feel better about himself. Jeff didn’t say things just to make others like him. As a foster kid, he seemed to relate to Greg better than most, given how they were both lacking in families as adults. Without a comforting safety net of a loving nest to return to when needed, they’d both had to develop that drive and independence that they each admired about the other. They both knew that life was only ever going to be what they themselves made of it.

Jeff had married about two years later. It had been a small affair, although Greg had seen a few pictures of the day online. His new wife had looked stunning, as had Jeff, dressed immaculately in a sharp suit that perfectly displayed his even more strapping and muscular physique. They could have both just strolled off a catwalk, and no doubt that others thought the same. Perhaps that was part of the reason why what happened next was such a shock.

Greg had known for some time that he wanted to get into the rental market. Owning somewhere he could let out just made so much financial sense, so of course he was on the phone to Jeff as soon as the deal was going through on a two-bedroom place downtown. From the moment the handsome guy climbed out of his truck, it was obvious that there had been some rather telling changes to the man’s lifestyle. From out of nowhere, Jeff was suddenly looking very husky indeed. His clothes, the work shorts and t-shirt, were obviously too small for him. The material across his chest showed how ruggedly strong and capable he was, yet it clung, rather unflatteringly, to a meatier middle where a six pack clearly hadn’t been for some time. As for his shorts, well they looked downright uncomfortable, pinching him at the hips and pressing so far in that they gave him lovehandles; actual lovehandles on a guy like Jeff! All the attraction Greg had ever had for Jeff suddenly paled in comparison to the burning lust that he felt now. Only in his mid twenties and already this superb, strong and overfed dadbod had kicked in!

They surveyed the house together, Greg happy to let Jeff lead the way so that he could stare at the enlarged, softer looking glutes; so much different to how they had been when Greg had first met the man. When Jeff bent down, Greg got an eyeful of his buttcrack too. Every item of clothing on his body seemed to be crying out in misery, unable to cope with the most likely thirty to forty pounds of fat that Jeff had gained since getting married.

“So, how is married life treating you?” Greg asked at long last, after all the boring rough costs were drawn up.

Jeff scratched the back of his head and grimaced. “Fine,” he mumbled.

Greg frowned. “You sure?” he asked, sensing from Jeff’s sudden awkwardness that something wasn’t quite right.

“I’m just not used to being part of a couple,” Jeff began. “The wedding, getting married; it was all a bit of a whirlwind. As an adult, I’m not used to someone putting restrictions on what I can and can’t do. I’m used to being my own man.”

“Are you saying you find her a little bossy?” Greg asked.

“Not bossy so much…” Jeff replied, obviously still trying to think of how to phrase what he wanted to say. “I’ve always been a bit of a lone rider. It was how I kept sane as a kid, going from foster home to foster home. She wants me to go to the gym with her all the time and she tries to keep tabs on what I’m eating. I just… I don’t like it. When I get home these days, I just want to crash on the couch and have a few beers; like most guys do.”

Greg nodded. “That seems fair enough.” Suddenly, Jeff's thicker, meatier stomach was starting to all make sense.

“I don’t know,” Jeff shrugged at last. “I know I’m pretty lazy around the house. I’m sure I must be hard to live with too.”

“You’ll work it out, I’m sure,” Greg offered consolingly.

Jeff nodded slowly, but the look on his face was strange; as if he didn’t really care; as if, after only a couple of years, the guy was already taking a step out the door of his marriage.

Having Jeff work on a place that wasn’t Greg’s home was a new experience for him. Jeff had kindly set aside six weeks and Greg planned to pop in each afternoon during a break from work, just to check on progress. He’d learned ways to keep Jeff happy during their previous projects and he arrived each time with Jeff’s favourite creamy latte. He kept a cookie jar in the house and was surprised to see that Jeff was easily going through an entire pack each day, leaving only crumbs in the bottom. No wonder the guy had been piling on the pounds, Greg thought to himself, trying to keep his attraction to Jeff under some sort of control. Having a crush on a straight guy was never going to lead anywhere, Greg knew. But the lust and the affection he’d developed for Jeff over the years was seeming to boil over into a monstrous adoration of him.

It was happening again. Greg’s crush was driving him to the same sticky place that he’d been to with his ex. He’d bought a refrigerator and filled it with sodas so that Jeff would always have something if he was thirsty. An old microwave was taken there and easy meals stuffed into the freezer, along with anything tasty the besotted Greg imagined the handy guy might like. He was being overbearing; he knew he was. But, for whatever reason, Greg just felt like he couldn’t help it. Then, whenever he popped over and saw so many of the supplies had been used up, he felt reinforced somehow; heading over to the store to pick up even more to restock it all.

By the end of the project, Greg noticed that Jeff’s face had seemed to change slightly. His cheeks were puffier and his jawline softer. It seemed like fat was actually spreading into his neck. He’d put on weight, no doubt about it.

“Well, I’m sure whoever rents this place off you is going to love living here,” Jeff stated, looking around the kitchen one final time and giving Greg a good look at his obviously thicker butt and fuller love handles. “This is exactly the sort of place I would have rented before I got married. Somewhere nice and quiet.”

Greg smiled, sensing that Jeff was still longing for that feeling of freedom and independence that he felt he had somehow lost. Perhaps, if Greg hadn’t already found someone to rent it, he may have quietly offered it to Jeff himself. But then again, maybe he would only have been sticking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted.

It was about eighteen months until Greg and Jeff spoke next. The guy’s name popped up on Greg’s cell phone as it rang, making his heart flutter with the lust that never seemed to leave him. Jeff had spotted another house downtown that he thought Greg might have been interested in as another rental; offering to meet him there to show him the place.

Like a lovesick puppy, Greg had jumped at the chance, feeling the blood pumping to his penis the entire time he was driving down there. Then, suddenly, Jeff was standing outside the property, waiting for him.

Safely inside his car, Greg growled in lustful appreciation. Jeff now looked even hotter than ever. Although not an extreme amount, it was obvious that Jeff was still continuing to put on weight. His little meaty stomach had seemed to solidify and push itself out more, forming a genuine little gut under his handsome pecs. The protrusion of it was quite clear, especially from the side, where the overall width of Jeff could be fully appreciated alongside the more developed ass on him. It was clear that he hadn’t been on a treadmill in quite some time.

Jeff had been right, the house had been undervalued, but even the rough quotes he was coming up with to do the place up seemed too good to be true. “But, this is at least three months’ work!” Greg gasped when he saw the ridiculously low amount Jeff was asking for to do it all.

“Well, truth is, I’m a little hard up at the moment. I need the work,” Jeff finally shrugged. “Never get married,” he sighed. “The divorce is unbelievably expensive!”

Greg offered his sympathies, although he couldn’t say he was all that surprised. However, it was exactly these types of cases where Greg also excelled, and he was soon launching into a pep talk to Jeff, explaining that he shouldn’t sell himself short just because he was a little strapped for cash. “I bet there are loads of ways we could make your business more profitable,” he went on, getting carried away. That old need to help Jeff wherever he could was always there. Now, as an accountant and business consultant, he really could offer something to the man that most people couldn’t.

“I can’t afford to hire someone else!” Jeff scoffed as he and Greg looked over his books a few nights later. 

“You’ll get jobs done faster and it means you can take on bigger projects,” Greg pressed on, having researched, in some detail, the business model he felt would work best for Jeff. “Find someone young and cheap. Someone just getting started. Then you can train them up and give them the sort of opportunity that you would have wanted, back in the day.”

Jeff hadn’t been convinced, but by the end of their second rental project together, another young guy, called Sam, had joined Jeff’s new team. Young, lanky and fresh-faced, the eighteen year old Sam had been surprisingly keen and dedicated to the opportunity he had been given. During that last week, the two of them had worked with incredible speed to get the house finished in time for a new tennant to take the place. That was even with the sweltering summer heat that boiled the rooms like an oven. 

Greg, who had been getting twitchy about the looming completion date, had been there every day, restocking the guys’ supplies and checking on progress. Overcome with the heat, a sweaty Jeff had been strutting around without a shirt for most of the week, sipping on the bottomless supplies of soda Greg provided. That firm, ball-like gut on the guy had come such a long way since Greg had first met the man eight years ago. His belly button had some real depth to it; a ripple of fat rolling through his love handles as he plodded lethargically about. It was clear that whatever Greg had assumed to be pecs hadn’t been so for quite some time. In reality, Jeff’s chest was surprisingly coated in fat; his nipples just about to beome more pointed and supple. In this state of undress, it was obvious how the fat was starting to wrap itself around Jeff’s body, spreading itself all over and softening the once athletic physique. Then there was that sweaty sheen all over his skin, the musky lure of an overfed man, hard at work. In other words, Greg had never been more aroused in his entire life.

By taking on Jeff’s financial work, Greg and Jeff were now in regular contact. Despite having so much knowledge on all things to do with building and repair work, Jeff had been missing out on so many opportunities to reduce his annual tax bill by simply just not knowing what he was entitled to. Jeff had been so grateful when his tax return came back in that he’d offered to take on a couple of days repair work at one of Greg’s properties, free of charge.

“I didn’t know you were hiring someone new?” Greg asked, stopping by to pick up some papers from Jeff as they worked on a project in the next town. He tried not to be distracted, watching Jeff eating his enormous sandwich as they returned to his truck for a second. The sight of Jeff eating had always done it for him; those enormous mouthfuls, the way he ripped into things and swallowed it all down with such speed. Back when he was so strapping and lean, it had seemed manly and purposeful. Now, however, it had been unmasked as pure, beautful greed.

“Well, things are going pretty well,” Jeff nodded. He’d developed a stoutness to him and a way of carrying himself that clearly identified him as the boss. His boyishness had gone entirely and the spherical bulge in his stomach seemed to be marching ever onwards. “Sam and I can’t handle all the work we’ve got coming in. Plus, Sam’s not quite as agile as he used to be.” With that, he nodded over at the worker, busily shoveling sand into the mixer. It was obvious what Jeff was referring to; the flabby looking love handles that were sneaking out of Sam’s tight t-shirt and the sweaty butt crack that was coming into view.

“I’m guessing you’ve not had a healthy influence on him then?” Greg joked.

“It seems not,” Jeff agreed, shaking his head with slight disapproval at the wider butt on his employee. “That’s exactly what his mom says as well. I mean, I know I overeat,” he admitted, rubbing his large stomach and ripping into even more of his sandwich. “I have a taste for pretty much everything that’s not good for me. But I was still pretty fit when I was his age,” he grumbled. “Anyway, the new guy seems to be working out well. He’s Sam’s younger brother, so I sort of know what I’m getting.”

Greg nodded, slipping his hand into his pocket to hold down the boner that he knew could potentially press itself against the crotch of his pants. He took the papers he needed and headed back to his car, trying to distract his mind, factoring in the new costs for Jeff’s growing business.

It was amazing how many people seemed to actively try to make Greg feel like a failure for reaching his early thirties and remaining single. He’d stayed fit and toned, so there was certainly no reason why people thought he should still be on his own. Sure, he’d had plenty of flings, but he had never been captured or overcome with love by any of the men he had dated. In fact, it was only ever Jeff who seemed to celebrate being a bachelor, and his enthusiasm for not being tied down in life was almost infectious. Everything he did seemed to be a celebration of being divorced: the way he ate what he wanted on site all day and how he didn’t care how scruffy he looked. He grinned, telling Greg that he was heading home to drink his beer, order take-out and sit on his ass all night watching football; as if he was living the dream.

At some point, Jeff had crossed the point from which he had been simply stout and overweight, to becoming something much more. Perhaps it was the sheer size of his stomach that had changed things; the way he carried the fat around his neck, or the total absence of the muscle that had once dominated his body. Maybe it was the way he walked now, or the constant presence of something tasty in his hands. It could have been the awkward fit of his clothes, or the width of his under exercised butt. But, whatever it was, it seemed like Jeff had become a very large man indeed. No matter the time of year, he wore sweat shorts that showed off his large calf muscles, well used to carrying around his hefty bulk. The lower sections of his belly frequently crept into view when he worked, along with his deep, always sweaty butt crack.

Jeff’s team had grown, in more ways than one. With Greg’s business advice and investment, the big man now hired a team of four other guys. Sam, who had been with him the longest, had become remarkably flabby and soft-looking, as had his younger brother. The two other guys hired by Jeff were both older and with more skills to bring to the business. They were both married and in their early thirties. When Greg had met them initially, he had been surprised by how much their athletic bodies contrasted and highlighted how large and obese their boss had become. Now, however, even they seemed to be getting rather thick around their middles; as if simply working with greedy Jeff led to an inevitable weight gain.

“These books are looking very healthy!” Greg smiled, seeing how much money Jeff’s blossoming business was taking in; even with the very generous wages he paid his workers. 

Jeff nodded, chewing on his third doughnut from the box that Greg would always remember to bring with him whenever he met up with Jeff each month. He knew full well that there would not be a single one left within ten minutes, and that he would probably have to hide his crotch as a result. The big man had arrived, showing off his enormous new truck which he hadn’t yet littered with take-out cartons and boxes, nor dirtied with mud and dust.

“So where do we go next?” Jeff asked, mumbling with his mouth full. “All I seem to do these days is price up quotes for people. It’s insane how much work is coming in.”

“Well, that’s exactly what we want,” Greg smiled keenly. “The business needs to evolve like this now. We’re hiring more guys, so it’s time for you to become more of the overseer of things. And, maybe in a few months, we could even hire someone to take over the admin around these quotes for you.”

“Jeez!” Jeff chuckled. “I already take home more money than I ever anticipated each month and now it sounds like I’m going to be able to sit on my fat ass full time!”

“Well, that’s my plan!” Greg smiled, delighted with how far he had helped Jeff take his business in the seven years since he had worked as the business manager. “We want to make sure this company gives you a solid income for years to come and allow you some time to enjoy yourself a little more.”

Jeff paused for a moment. “You know, no one has ever done more for me than you have,” he stated. Greg had been the first person he’d asked to invest in his business and their fifty/fifty shared ownership had been nothing but harmonious. “Your house was the first major project I took on when I was nineteen. I never imagined that we would still be working together after all these years. You’ve really looked after me.”

Greg smiled at the sentiment. “We look after each other,” he offered in return. “You’ve trusted me every step of the way. There’s no way I would have all this,” he explained, looking around the plush office space he occupied, “without all the business clients you sent my way over the years.”

Jeff seemed to consider Greg’s comments. “Yeah, I guess you could say that we have each other’s backs,” he nodded in agreement. Then he smiled at Greg; his friend and best adviser. It was an affection that neither of them had ever before encountered in their work lives.

Having spent the majority of his adult life alone, Greg knew that the time had come for him to settle down with someone. As much as he listened to Jeff going on and on about how delighted he was to be living the single life, the reality for Greg was… loneliness. He felt like Ebenezer Scrooge, counting up his money and coming home to a cold, empty house every evening. For the first time ever, he accepted a work acquaintance’s offer to set him up on a blind date and, when that went well, he suddenly found himself slowly rolling into a real relationship for the first time since he was in his early twenties. 

On paper, Steve was the perfect guy for him, sharing all of his interests and sense of humour. He was attractive, athletic, being of a similar age, in his mid thirties, and very much financially stable. Everyone in Greg’s life found him to be delightful. They commented on how well suited they both were, how Greg had seemed to come to life whenever Steve was around. And, for the most part, Greg absolutely agreed, even though he knew that spark hadn’t been there for him initially. In fact, within Greg’s entire circle, there was only one person who didn’t seem to approve of Steve…

“That fat asshole tried to call over and see you before,” Steve grumbled, putting away some of the things Greg had brought back from the supermarket. “Something about how he’s sorted the new digger,” he went on. “Why he couldn’t just message you, I have no idea.”

“He drives by here on the way home,” Greg explained. “He finds it easier to just call in and let me know things like that. I hope you were polite?” he asked, warningly.

“I was… courteous,” Steve considered. “It’s hard though. As soon as he saw it was me answering the door he pulled this face and rolled his eyes. I’ve never come across someone so fucking rude in my entire life!” “He wouldn’t have meant to be rude,” Greg tried. “He was probably just tired.”

“Oh, I’m sure he was tired,” Steve agreed. “I think anyone would be exhausted lugging that massive gut of his around all day.” He shuddered in disgust. “It was even hanging out a little from the bottom of his t-shirt today. Like… does the guy never look in a mirror? Still, at least he was wearing a shirt today, I guess,” he mumbled, pretending to suppress the urge to gag.

Greg grumbled inside. Steve was so great in many different ways, however he seemed to have a strange, zero-tolerance towards those he considered to be not looking after themselves. “Maybe this is why Jeff isn’t very fond of you,” Greg replied, deciding not to be upset that two of the most important guys in his life looked set to clash for the rest of their lives.

“How’s the jerk?” Jeff asked, leaning back against the kitchen cupboard of an empty house he had brought Greg over to see as a potential new acquisition for their shared property rental empire. “You haven’t asked him to move in yet, have you? You know that’s just a slippery slope?”

Greg sighed. He was sick of feeling like the go-between. “We’re not moving in together,” he stated reassuringly for Jeff. He listened a little longer as Jeff explained how rude Steve had been to him the last time they had to be in the room together. It was the complete opposite of the story as told by Steve, but Greg had long since given up trying to work out which of them was lying; deciding that they both exaggerated and stretched the truth. “Look, I know you don’t like Steve and that’s not going to change. But… isn’t it enough for you that I love him?”

Jeff’s face filled with an unexpected smile. “I would be totally on-board if I believed that you loved him. Believe me, I’d be backing you one hundred percent if I thought that was the case.”

“But I do love him,” Greg shot back. “We’ve been together almost a year.”

Jeff shook his head in complete refusal. “No… I’ve seen you in love. I remember how you were when I first met you. You were besotted with Bill in a way that I’ve never seen with anyone else before.”

“I was a naive twenty-one year old!” Greg chuckled back. “Of course I was head over heels in love with the guy.”

“So, what? Now we’re older we don’t get to have those feelings anymore? Now you just have to settle for Mr Generic?”

“He’s not generic!” Greg sighed, sick of hearing Jeff using that word to describe his boyfriend.

“I remember thinking what a lucky guy Bill was. The way you looked at him like he was the centre of your universe. Even when I saw Bill getting fatter and fatter, you were still all over him. You didn’t care about any of his faults, you just loved him for who he was; completely. I thought that I would get that when I got married. But, no, I just got nagged to death and put on one insane diet after another. You never would have done that with Bill.”

“No, but… all couples have different priorities,” Greg tried to reason. “I really don’t think you should use that one experience as a reason to be on your own for the rest of your life.”

“I’m fat, super-greedy and extemely lazy,” Jeff stated bluntly, rubbing his giant stomach at the same time. “When I was younger, I used to think the gym was the best place on Earth. Now I order take-out at least five times a week, I can eat an entire cheesecake to myself in one sitting, currently weigh over 420lbs and dislike most forms of exercise. Who is going to look at me and not want to change any of those things?”

Greg stood silent for a moment. Perhaps it was his weariness at the whole situation that made his inhibitions retreat, but after eighteen years of lusting after Jeff, perhaps it was no surprise. Jeff was right. He didn’t love Steve. Not in the way he had loved Jeff for all these years. “I wouldn’t,” he whispered.”I’d love you no matter what.”

Jeff held Greg’s stare, seeming to appreciate the momentousness of what had been said. He inhaled, then sighed, shaking his head. “I think we’re both just tired,” he mumbled, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought Steve up. Let’s just check in tomorrow to make a decision about this place,” he rambled, already starting to walk away; the shoddy floorboards creaking under his massive bulk.

Greg looked down, feeling more dejected than he had even been in his entire life.

“Let’s have a working lunch and thrash out how we want to approach the house purchase,” a surprisingly upbeat Jeff announced, coming into Greg’s office the next day. It was clear from his appearance that he wasn’t working with the other guys that morning, dressed as he was in an overly tight shirt that he clearly hadn’t had the opportunity to wear in the last fifty pounds or so. “Come on. What do you say? I am your most important business partner after all.”

Greg smiled, relieved that Jeff was putting in an effort to make him feel at ease after his confession the evening before. Jeff didn’t need to ask him to cancel his other appointments; Greg would have done anything to settle their awkwardness; absolutely anything.

“I love this place,” Jeff smiled, inhaling the grease in the air and looking around at the dated decor as they sat beside each other at the main counter. “I come here all the time. It’s the best food going.”

Greg couldn’t exactly see the appeal as he looked around the haggard looking restaurant and felt the greasy countertop under his fingertips. “If you love it, I love it,” he smiled, pleased to see Jeff looking so in his element.

“What do you think I should order?” the big man asked Greg, passing over the large laminated menu; the drinks section partially obscured by dried tomato sauce.

As soon as Greg started reading, he could see why Jeff loved it so much here. He started listing off the things he knew Jeff loved and found the fat man’s enthusiasm starting to rub off on him. He poured through the side orders and had suddenly constructed a large combination of dishes that he believed Jeff would enjoy that lunchtime.

“You really think I can eat all that?” Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow.

Greg scoffed. “Who are you kidding?” he chuckled. “That’s a light snack for you!”

At that, Jeff smiled too. A large, broad and genuine smile that filled his fattened, rounded face. “This is Greg, my business manager,” he explained later to an older waitress who came over to collect their order. It seemed that she knew Jeff extremely well from his many visits here, and she showed a genuine interest in meeting Greg. “Marla’s been here for years,” Jeff went on, smiling with affection towards the older lady, as if she had become a long lost mother figure for him.

“Jeff is my favourite customer,” the lady smiled back, putting her thin arm over Jeff’s broad back and rubbing it briefly. She didn’t bat an eyelid at the amount of food he was ordering and seemed to know exactly how the obese glutton would want it all cooked. 

“Marla’s great!” Jeff went on after the lady had disappeared into the kitchens. “I used to come here after the gym, even before I got married.”

“Wow, she really has known you a long time!” Greg agreed.

“After I got married, I used to come here a lot more of course, just to get out of the house.”

“That sounds stressful.”

Jeff nodded. “That was when I first started putting on weight. My wife used to hate that. She would point it out all the time to me; try to embarrass me in front of her friends. In the end, I stopped caring. I ate what I wanted just to piss her off. Fuck the six pack and the jawline! What’s the point in making yourself miserable in denying yourself the things that you enjoy?”

“I quite agree,” Gred nodded. He had always found Jeff’s enormous appetite and attitude towards eating whatever he liked to be such an attractive quality.

“It’s quite thrilling you know,” Jeff continued, even as Greg expected him to change the conversation. “Putting on so much fat after training so hard in the gym; losing all that definition… It was quite a change for me.”

“Yeah, I remember…” Greg agreed, remembering how much more attracted he had felt to Jeff once the weight had started to pile on and transform him.

“You can spend months in the gym just trying to pack on just a tiny bit of muscle. But you can gain fat and find your pants don’t fit in just a matter of weeks. I’ve seen it time and time again with all the guys I’ve hired over the years.”

Greg chuckled and nodded in agreement. He’d certainly witnessed that first hand as well.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is… I kinda like being this way,” Jeff admitted, rubbing his large gut tenderly. “And… if I was to ever be with someone again, I would, sort of, want them to enjoy me being this way too.”

A natural pause came in the conversation when some of Jeff’s dishes already started arriving. Greg simply adored the way the fat man’s face lit up when surrounded by food, and he chuckled with admiration.

“Have you ever told Steve how big your ex-boyfriend used to be?” Jeff asked next.

“That was… over fifteen years ago!” Greg mumbled in reply.

“So… that’s a ‘no’ then,” Jeff shot back, sounding disappointed as he threw in another forkful of food.

“I don’t think Steve would… understand,” Greg went on, suddenly feeling very awkward indeed.

“That’s because he’s an asshole,” Jeff stated frankly, pulling no punches. “He’s a sizist. He looks at me like I’m a piece of shit.” He exhaled, grumpily, seemingly cross with Greg. “You should have told him about Bill; about how you like bigger guys. It pisses me off so much that you’re even with a guy like that!”

“Why? What does all that even matter to you?” Greg asked, perplexed and feeling as if he had suddenly been cornered.

“Because you told me last night that if you and I were together, you wouldn’t try to change me!” he roared, sounding as if this had been pressing against his very large chest for a long, long time. “You told me that you would let me be exactly who I am. Yet, there you are, living with a boring guy who you’re not even attracted to and letting him get away with his snide little comments about fat guys like me. You haven’t told him that you’re attracted to larger men because you think it’s weird; because you know he will judge you for it. But I need someone who is all in on this one,” he finished, grabbing a wedge of his belly fat and jiggling it. “Being fat is who I am now.”

Greg exhaled, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his whole life. He felt hurt, confused and deeply misunderstood. “You’re only saying all this because I never told you what actually happened between Bill and I. You seem to be under the impression that I had some sort of epic love affair with him.” He sighed, deciding it was time to say it out loud at long last. “Bill left me all those years ago because I used to overfeed him,” he began to explain. “I tried to convince myself that I couldn’t help it; that I was just spoiling him and loving him too much. But, the truth was, I was enjoying seeing him getting fatter. I liked witnessing his belly growing and being responsible for it. I remember, I even used to put cream in his coffee and butter-up everything I cooked for him. I was… a selfish dick. I was a monser!” he sighed. “And it came back to bite me in the ass. In the end, Bill knew he had to get away from me. That’s why I’ve stayed single all these years. I was ashamed. You’re the only one who has ever brought it out in me since. I only allowed myself to spoil you when you were first getting fat. I made sure you were pumped full of soda and snacks whenever you worked for me. I’ve tried my best to keep a lid on it all this for years. That’s why I have never told Steve about what I did. That’s why I’m even settling for a guy like him.”

Jeff shrugged, heaving a great sigh and lowering his voice, becoming calm and relaxed. “But that’s just it. I don’t want someone who keeps a lid on things.” He turned slightly on the stool and put his large hand on Greg’s thigh. “I want you to be completely yourself with me; like you were with Bill. And, when I get fatter - which I will do,” he smirked. “I want us both to enjoy that.”

Greg smiled and rested his hand on top of Jeff’s, delighted that the man did not recoil, but grabbed it and held it lovingly. “You mean that?” he asked, overwhelmed with the turn of events.

Jeff nodded. Greg suddenly realised that the look of respect and admiration in Jeff’s eyes was actually love. Unbeieveably, Jeff wanted this as much as he did.

“May I touch your belly?” Greg asked, suddenly overcome with lust for the situation and opportunity he found himself in.

Jeff smiled and leaned back; looking around to check if anyone could see them in the incredibly quiet restaurant. Then he lifted his shirt a few inches, grabbed Greg’s hand and made it pinch the blubber that had flowed over the waistband of his pants.

Greg moaned. He couldn’t help himself, and Jeff chuckled, looking around; grinning like they were both naughty school children. “Want to make it bigger?” he asked playfully, seeing Marla approaching them with another of Jeff’s dishes.

Greg nodded and instinctively knew what he was to do. “Can we get some more cheesy fries and another chocolate fudge milkshake for Jeff?” he asked Marla. “Oh, and some more chicken wings.”

Marla took the order and trotted away. Jeff’s eyes were dancing with delight, his smile wider than Greg had ever seen it. As much as the guy had protested about loving the single life, it was clear in that moment that he had actually been waiting a very long time for someone to embrace this hidden side of him.

“Did I do okay?” Greg asked playfully.

“I think you’ll do just nicely,” Jeff agreed, leaning in for their very first kiss.

[rascalentertainments]

Wish Granted: The Startosphere 🌙🌠🌌

Since Star will be coming in chapter 3, I thought it'd be a good time to talk about Star's home, which is The Startosphere!

In this special space, its located in a cosmic space between the the mesosphere and thermosphere. In this space, millions of stars travel across the galaxy as nomads. They go around seeing different nebula formations, constellations and other wonders of the galaxy! All of the star people have cosmic power, but its never been used to the extent of actually changing their own form, let alone turning into animals or a human.

They don't have solid forms, and since there's no gravity, the star people sort of glide across space. Their outer appearance look like human people, but they're outlined like constellations with a blue, white or yellow tint. (See this Helluva Boss GIF below as an example.) Like when a person draws an animation test for a character's movements.

It can however, be a lonely life. Especially for our Star(boy). See, Star has a family. A big one in fact, but he hasn't seen them in years. And because stars are nomadic, its hard for him to make friends. He could be pals with one, but the next day he won't find them again. So he just wanders by himself, even though there are plenty stars around.

Many of the star people can see Earth from afar, but none of them have ever visited the planet itself. The stars just admire it from afar and go on about their business. Star however, was fascinated by Earth from the start and dreamed of going down there and meet the humans who all looked fun to him. He could spend hours watching them below, go away somewhere else, but always come back to Earth as if something there pulled him in like some kind of wind.

When stars reach 18 years of age, and they can pick their own names to go by. Sometimes they get them from the humans, and other times they create their own. Our Star hasn't chosen a name for himself yet, so Asha nicknames him "Star" to make things easier. Though after the adventure is over, he just might have an idea of what to call himself...

Normally, stars can't grant wishes, that's a human belief. However, Star creates his own way to do it: Going right down to Earth and helping Asha however he can. Lastly, there are a few star nomads who heard rumors of a star with more power than any other in the galaxy. One so powerful, they could grant wishes to not only humans, but other stars. But none of them have actually seen this so called "Wishing Star".

Star nomads can hear humans, but only when they pay attention to Earth. Most of the time they're too busy looking for the next exciting thing, so Earth just doesn't hold their attention like it does for our Star. However, there is one human that ends up catching his attention the most, through beautiful singing...

In the Wishverse, Star is excited to meet other Starboys because not only have their been others who've been to Earth, but now he can make Star friends and he knows he can see them again, no matter how long it's been. Not only does he gain Earth friends, now he has star friends too. He couldn't be happier. 😁⭐ (Plus he loves to hang with Suñeo and Cielo the most, surprisingly)

Hope you enjoyed this little worldbuilding here. Like I said, this is my first fantasy story. I mostly write and watch media that are sci-fi, superhero, and action. I do like fantasy, but there usually has to be a twist on it to get me invested, and Wish's concept was one of them! So I took the sci-fi part I know and used it to create this system for the star nomads. More will be revealed as the story goes on, so I hope you continue to read Wish Granted as it unfolds!

Stay awesome! 😉

@uva124 @oh-shtars @signed-sapphire @chillwildwave @tumblingdownthefoxden

@annymation @spectator-zee @lazytitans-world @kenihewa

@mythartist21 @gracebeth3604 @flicklikesstuff @emptyblog7

[canmom]

I will admit, as a fan of old scifi TV, I prefer the more theatrical style of filmmaking? Particularly for more fantastical genres. Partly because it gives each series it's own unique feel - you can identify old TV scifi by sound palette and shot type alone, and it lets you know you're in for a scifi romp rather than a crime procedural or a sitcom. Like, a lot of modern scifi uses the same shots and a similar sound palette, and like. A lot of storytelling language is unavailable to the realistic styles.

Also, the emotional heart of scifi and fantasy relies on being able to empathise with situations and people who are not familiar or human, sometimes with bodies that cannot do human body language. Theatrical TV allows the show to do the live-action version of those big ghibli tears - you know, the ones that look unrealistic but are exactly what sobbing feels like? Which is really useful when you want your audience to empathise with a character who is extremely non-human, and also in cases where the special effects have not aged well. Like, the monster might obviously be aquarium tubing covered in vaseline, but the theatrical nature of the acting, camerawork, sound and lighting etc can still produce a thrill of terror.

[in reference to this post]

I definitely agree! So would Bertolt Brecht, probably, who was strongly of the opinion that you should draw attention to the constructed nature of a play rather than try to hide it. ( @baeddel and I would always be going on about how Drakengard was Brechtian, those were the days...)

'Naturalism' in cinema, acting etc. is not actually 'natural', but something carefully constructed in a way that tries not to draw attention to its constructed nature. The most 'naturalistic' acting would be a candid video of someone who isn't aware they're being filmed, but that doesn't typically make for good film.

One of the interesting things that comes up towards the end of that video on acting is how there's been a bit of a return of the theatrical style, or something of a blend of that with the "naturalistic" practices developed in the last half-century. He reels off a bunch of examples, such as Wes Anderson or Yorgos Lanthimos's films, particularly Emma Stone's performance in Poor Things. Which I haven't seen yet so I can't comment.

However, in animation, I would definitely talk about the puppet stop motion films of Barry JC Purves, who adopts a very theatrical style. For example, look at the way Tchaikovsky moves in this one:

His films on classical themes, like the one on Achilles, are perhaps even more so. The vibe of this is fantastic, perfectly suited to the range of motion of the puppets (which are limited in terms of facial expression) and coming across as very intentional and distinctive. I wrote about him a year ago for Animation Night 161, where I've collected all the films of his that I can find online.

Really there's no one 'best' acting style - it's a toolkit, which you can apply to different ends. The kind of 'naturalism' that pleases the Academy can be a very good tool for a drama, but there are plenty of other ways to do it, especially in animation where the entire world can support the performance far more easily than choreographing a comparable sequence in live action. Something like Revolutionary Girl Utena or Rose of Versailles would not be improved by a more naturalistic acting style! But equally Jin-Roh: The Wolf Brigade benefits hugely from its realist style and reserved performances. Maybe if there's any advice to give, it's that be conscious you're making a choice and commit to it whole hog...

[itsuki-minamy]

"K - RETURN OF KINGS" (Novel)

EPILOGUE: THREE PEOPLE

* List of Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Looking back, the incident that turned all humans into supernatural beings was nothing more than a fleeting dream. Although the disaster affected not only Japan but also other countries, human damage was kept to a minimum thanks to the measures taken by "Tokijikuin". Because it was all over in just a few hours, many people didn't notice anything until it was all over.

The world is still in uproar. The media is strongly demanding an investigation into truth and accountability. Now that the existence of supernatural powers has become public knowledge, it is only a matter of time before the fact that the government has covered it up for more than 70 years after the war comes to light.

However, we will have to wait longer for that to happen.

For supernatural beings, normal life was returning. Every day was like any other: wake up, eat, shower, go to work.

However, the frequency of "work" has increased slightly.

Munakata was waiting for Fushimi when he returned to his base.

He probably didn't go to the front door to greet him. By chance they met. Still, he seemed to understand Fushimi's mission, he turned on his heel and spoke.

"Please, inform me."

Fushimi began to follow him, his lips curled.

"...After receiving a report that a Strain and "Homura" were fighting in Shizume, three members of the Special Forces rushed to the scene. They safely secured the two Strain who had already begun to escape and recently returned to base."

"Hm."

Munakata took a deep breath and shook his head.

"Although 10 days have passed since the destruction of the "Slate", it seems that people's supernatural powers have not completely disappeared. Even when the power of Hisui Nagare, who was connected to the "Slate", and Isana Yashiro, who caused the burst of royal power, quickly disappeared..."

"It is true that it is gradually weakening."

"Yes. Actually, the "Sword of Damocles" has disappeared and the "King" can no longer deploy the Sanctum. However, in that incident, people around the world have temporarily acquired supernatural abilities. Most of them have lost their power, but I'm sure there are still plenty of them. Especially here in Tokyo, where the "Slate" was located."

Fushimi grumbled in a displeased tone.

''Will our work continue for the moment?''

"It still seems so."

Fushimi stared at Munakata's back as he responded.

Not yet. This means that there will come a time when the meaning of Scepter 4's existence will be questioned.

Munakata is losing his power as ''King''. For him, the "Sword of Damocles" was falling apart, so that could be considered a blessing in disguise.

However, at the same time, it was a problem that would affect the survival of the clan known as ''Scepter 4''. Does it still make any sense to serve the "King" who has lost his power? When all supernatural beings, including themselves, lose their supernatural abilities due to the disappearance of the "Slate", is there really any point in keeping "Scepter 4"?

Fushimi is not the only one who has that doubt. He's sure many members of the clan and Special Forces think the same, even if they don't say it out loud.

However, Munakata did not respond to his subordinate's questions.

Does he still not have an answer or does he believe that every person has no choice but to find an answer to that question?

When he thought about that, his PDA sounded.

"Excuse me."

Fushimi reflexively took the PDA and pressed the call button.

It was a failure. What came out of the telephone port was a vulgar and loud voice.

"You bastard, stupid monkey! Why are you stealing from us? That Strain was "Homura's" prey..."

Fushimi hung up the call without saying a word.

Munakata stood still. His face finally turned towards him. Seeing the slight smile on his lips, Fushimi looked away and said again.

"My apologies."

Munakata said jokingly.

"Didn't you say that the Stain had been captured without "incident"?"

"Yes, it's just the extras throwing a tantrum."

Fushimi responded without hesitation, and Munakata simply laughed and looked forward.

Awashima was approaching from the other side of the hallway. When she stopped in front of Munakata and saluted, she said in a crisp tone...

"Captain. The Prime Minister has requested a meeting. He would like to discuss measures to counter the Strains abroad. Do you accept the request?"

"Okay. Let's go right away."

Nodding, Munakata quickened his pace with Awashima in tow.

Fushimi stopped and stared at his back. From now on, it's not his territory. He couldn't do politics or negotiate because he was tired.

Fushimi thought as he watched Munakata walk away into the distance.

Maybe Munakata has all the answers. What will happen to the world in which supernatural powers have been revealed? How will the clan that has lost its supernatural powers change from now on? Anticipate and then react. Because that's Reisi Munakata.

And Fushimi too.

The PDA called again. This time, he made sure to check the person before answering. Akiyama's calm voice sounded.

"Fushimi-san, I have another report. There was a robbery at the Takeido Ekimae bank. I think it was due to a Strain."

Fushimi snorted and responded.

"Here Fushimi, I understand. I'll be on my way immediately. Please prepare a transport vehicle."

Then, he too began to walk quickly.

Fushimi is also nothing more than Fushimi Saruhiko. Being a supernatural being is just one of the factors of him. Even if he loses his supernatural powers or the world changes, Fushimi will be Fushimi.

Therefore, what he has to do remains the same.

He will just do his job.

+++++++++++

Kusanagi finished polishing the glass.

He placed a glass in front of him and two glasses on the other side of the counter, in front of the stool. After placing them carefully, Kusanagi turned on the lamp.

It was left by someone who frequented that store a long time ago. He was a troublesome guy who engaged in various hobbies, but he left the things he collected for those purposes in the store. The reason Kusanagi knows how to use a lamp is because that person forced him to learn.

The glasses gave off a mysterious glow due to the flickering flames on the counter.

Looking at that with half-closed eyes, Kusanagi opened the bottle and poured the amber liquid into the glass.

A voice echoed in the silent bar.

"Wow, it smells good."

Totsuka was sitting on a stool, looking innocently at the glass with his usual kind expression on his face.

Next to him, Suoh lifted his glass and brought it to his mouth.

"...Not bad."

Totsuka held the glass with both hands, but didn't drink it, just enjoyed the aroma. He asked, looking at Kusanagi with a big smile.

"But is it okay, Kusanagi-san? This is an important bottle, right?"

"...Well, once in a while, why not?"

Yes. Sometimes something like that would be nice.

Suoh snorted. He put a cigarette in his mouth and tried to light it, but the lighter didn't light. Kusanagi shrugged, lit the Zippo, and handed it to him. Suoh looked at Kusanagi and then held the tip of his cigarette to the light of the Zippo.

The tip of the cigarette burned red hot and the exhaled white smoke floated in the light of the lamp.

Totsuka rested his chin on the counter and looked at him amused.

Kusanagi also slowly raised his glass, squinting behind his sunglasses. At this moment, the door of the bar opened with the loud sound of the doorbell.

"Damn...! They just stole my prey!"

"Yata-san! There will be another chance! Next time, let's make the guys in blue scream!"

Yata, Kamamoto and the rest of "Homura" entered the bar while chatting loudly among themselves.

Kusanagi blinked as if he had just woken up and looked at them. As they talked among themselves, they began to take positions at the desired locations.

There was no one sitting on the stool across the counter from Kusanagi.

Still holding the glass, Kusanagi stared at the empty stool.

"Izumo."

Kusanagi looked towards where that voice came from.

Anna was there. She was sitting on a stool, silently looking at the glass that was still there.

Her crimson eyes turned towards Kusanagi.

Kusanagi placed his cigarette in the ashtray and smiled silently.

"...Welcome."

+++++++++++

From the rooftop of the building, Mishakuji Yukari looked into a large hole.

The hole, which was also called Yomito Crossing or Yomito Gate, was surrounded by a yellow cordon and sparsely patrolled by police. They seemed to be quite distracted, some were holding back their yawns, others were simply staring blankly, and no one noticed the presence of the suspicious person standing on the rooftop, Mishakuji.

That marked the end of everything.

That place has little meaning to them anymore. "Jungle" was disbanded and most of the clan members gave up their power or hid in the world as people with clanless powers. The Green Clan no longer exists anywhere in the world. What's there is just a hole, a tombstone for those who once tried to bring down the world.

That's why Mishakuji holds a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"...Iwa-san. Narare-chan. Did you have fun?"

Mishakuji muttered that and threw away the bouquet.

As the petals were scattered, the bouquet fell to the bottom of the tombstone as if it were sucked.

"Nagare... Iwa-san..."

Kotosaka on his shoulder shouted in a muffled voice. Birds cannot shed tears. Instead, he lowered his voice, perhaps as a tribute to his closest friends.

As if he was wiping away his tears, Mishakuji stroked his feathers with his fingertips.

Then he slowly turned on his heel. He called out to him as he passed the boy who was standing stunned.

"Come on?"

Sukuna didn't answer anything. He bit his lip, frowned and looked as if he was desperately suppressing something.

Mishakuji pretended not to see it.

Suddenly, he remembered something from the past. Mishakuji also lost something important in his childhood. His family, his first teacher. Everything was taken away by irresistible violence.

At least, that's not the case with the deaths of Nagare and Iwafune. They lived, fought and died for their desires. Although there may be sadness and mourning, there should be no regrets.

(I had fun. Iwa-sa, Nagare-chan.)

In place of the dead who did not give an answer, Mishakuji walked forward, giving his own answer.

Sukuna also wiped his eyes roughly with his sleeve and began to follow Mishakuji. He looked back only from time to time, looking at the hole with a trace of regret in his eyes, but then he turned forward and began to walk with difficulty.

+++++++++++

"Wait, wait, Wagahai-chan, your skirt is riding up! It's riding up!"

"Nya?"

Kukuri quickly grabbed Neko's shoulders as she jumped as if she were dancing. She quickly pulled up her skirt, which had gotten caught in her bag and rolled up. As Neko blinked, Kukuri spoke in a tone similar to that of a mother teaching a small child.

"You know, Wagahai-chan. Your uniform skirt tends to ride up easily, so you shouldn't move too vigorously, okay?"

"Mmm... I'm very tight..."

Neko pouted in dissatisfaction, but obediently allowed Kukuri to do whatever she wanted. She was the one who said that she wanted to join the school, and if that was the case, she had to listen to her teacher, Kukuri, because Kuro had told her so.

"Yes, this is good!"

After properly adjusting her clothes, Kukuri looked at Neko seriously.

"Wow, I never expected Wagahai-chan to move here. And at a time like this!"

"Hehehe~. Nice to see you! Kukuri!"

"Likewise~. Ah, that's right. The teacher who transferred with you. I heard that he is a relative of Wagahai-chan?"

Neko laughed mischievously.

"Yes. That's what we decided to do!"

"Did they decide?"

Kukuri tilted her head in confusion at the strange way she said it. It was largely due to Neko's power that she was able to do that. However, she had no intention of telling Kukuri that, at least not until her life had completely calmed down.

"Well, anyway, he is a very nice teacher. It seems like everyone in my class already calls him by the nickname "German Sensei"."

After saying that, Kukuri suddenly looked up at the sky as if she remembered something.

"But... I feel like I've met him somewhere before."

Neko laughed again at that reaction, but she didn't say anything.

A delicious smell tickled Neko's nose as she ran towards the bedroom.

"I'm home! I'm hungry!"

A calm response came from the back of the kitchen at Neko's voice full of desire.

"It's done. Sit down."

"Hurrah!"

Raising her arms and expressing her joy, Neko jumped into the dining room.

In the chabudai there is white rice, miso soup, pickled vegetables and grilled fish. Those are some of her favorite dishes that she sees all the time.

Neko pinched the sleeves of her uniform and showed off a little at the person sitting there.

"How I look? What do you think of my uniform?"

She chuckled, Kuro walked out of the kitchen and opened his mouth in shock.

"You heard that in the morning too."

"I want to hear it over and over again! What do you think?"

He looked at Neko calmly and nodded slowly.

"Looks good."

Neko laughed as if tickled. No matter how many times she heard it, she was still happy. Even more than his praise for her uniform, the fact that he was there made her happier than anything else.

Isana Yashiro.

Or Adolf K. Weismann.

That wasn't the Shiro that Neko knew. He is a young man of exotic appearance, with silver hair and a white face. It is natural that there are no traces of the Shiro from before, and this is the "real" Shiro.

She doesn't really understand the detailed reasoning. However, either one was fine for Neko.

Even if his appearance has changed. Shiro is, after all, Neko's Shiro.

Kuro took off his apron and sat across from Shiro. Neko also sat between the two of them, waiting for a signal.

"Well..."

Kuro nodded and the three joined their hands and spoke in unison.

"Itadakimasu."

Neko laughed out loud at the steaming white rice, miso soup, and grilled fish.

It is not the pleasure of eating. Of course, that's one thing, but the fact that there were two people on each side of the chabudai she was placed on filled her with immense joy.

If she reaches out, she can touch them. If she smiles at them, they will smile back. There are two people she loves within that short distance.

That alone made her happy. Everything she needed was prepared on that small table. Happiness with a touch of warmth. It was what Neko had been looking for.

Surrounded by her family, Neko, Ameno Miyabi is happy.

[sirowsky-stories]

The Flowers Always Know

Chapter 5 - Is This Goodbye?

Description: Having recovered enough that you were getting ready to leave the medical ward at Heroics HQ, the only thing tainting your relief at returning home, was not knowing if you'd get to spend any more time with your new favourite superhuman once you'd left.

**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 3414 (1469 words added) Masterlist (this story)

   Three months later, you were not only back on your feet, but running. You’d never really been a runner before, favouring the peacefulness of walking, but now it seemed like such a freedom, you could barely get enough of it.    You’d been in a coma for almost ten weeks, which had depleted your fat-reserves and made your muscles atrophy, and you were the scrawny sort to begin with, so the nutritionist had not been happy when you’d started requesting more physical activity. But after making a solemn vow to eat however much he asked, he’d finally agreed.

   And you’d both been surprised to discover that you’d actually gained weight a lot faster when your body had begun to convert the fuel into muscles.    You were heavier now than you ever had been, and you were genuinely proud of that, because you knew it meant you weren’t only strong again, but also stronger than before. It felt like a visible testament to your victory over evil.    Plus… You looked good. You’d even gotten the colour and natural volume back in your hair.

   You were still living at the Heroics HQ medical facility, and you were still being tested to the nines every single day, but you didn’t mind. Everyone there were nice to you, and it wasn’t like you were in a cage, you went outside every day.    They just didn’t like it if you wandered off too far, since you hadn’t been discharged yet, which meant you were still their responsibility, legally.

   You’d been pleasantly surprised to find out the organisation had taken care of all your bills and payments while you’d been in a coma and during the subsequent rehabilitation. Probably only to avoid any scandalous headlines from the media, had you decided to whine about losing your house due to the Heroics keeping you alive against all reasonable odds.    But whatever their motivation, you were only grateful to them, because it meant your house and finances would still be very much in order, whenever you’d be heading back there.

   Marcus had been instrumental in your recovery.    As soon as they’d discovered that his electromagnetic currents helped you, the science-department had temporarily melded with the medical department to try and figure out why that was, and what might be the optimal way of utilizing this fortuitus abnormality.    Luckily for you, this had meant many long hours spent with Marcus by your side as he’d carefully experimented with stimulating your muscles into cooperating with you.

   It hadn’t been nearly as sexy as it sounded, most often resulting in unexpected jerks and spasms to whichever part of your body he’d been working on, nothing of which had had anything to do with any sort of pleasure. Progress, yes. But not pleasure.    However, it had offered you plenty of time to talk to each other, which meant you knew a lot more about him now. Or at least, a lot more about Missy. The proud dad had quickly emerged once he’d gotten more comfortable around you.

   Curiously, though, no one had been able to work out just how his current could have such a positive influence on your body.    They thought it might have to do with some sort of harmonization between the tiny electrical impulses in your nerves and the frequency of his current, but they couldn’t say for sure. Because so far, all their tests had been inconclusive.

   The never-ending tests didn’t bother you as much anymore, as you’d gotten used to the routine of them, but today was going to be a bit special in that regard, as you were about to do a test you’d never done before.    The medical team wanted to do a full-scale physical exam, complete with endurance- and strength-tests, and you’d actually been looking forward to this. You were excited to find out how close you’d gotten to receiving that clean-bill-of-health stamp in your charts.

   The tests themselves were gruelling, though.    They involved running as fast as you could in short intervals, but then in the breaks between each interval you also had to do a strength exercise. Weightlifting, or working with kettlebells, or just regular push-ups.    There were lots of different ones, and you never knew beforehand what the next one would be.

   You jumped off the treadmill, leaving it running at the same speed, and once you were off, you were told which exercise to perform.    The moment you completed it, it was back to the treadmill, and you weren’t allowed to alter the speed setting. If you couldn’t manage the thirty second interval, you had to step off and do another strength exercise.

   After that, you were mercifully given an hour to rest, before you were going to take on an obstacle course to check your agility and reflexes, and it was at this point that Marcus joined the small crowd of maybe thirty people, who’d gathered to find out how you’d do.    Most were people you’d met in the medical ward and who had been part of the team responsible for keeping you alive, and they were incredibly supportive. They’d been cheering you on and clapping every time you’d managed to complete an exercise.

   Not that you were surprised by their enthusiasm at all. These were the people who had spent weeks working almost around the clock just to keep your heart beating. If there were any souls you would be able to count on for support on your progress, it would be them.    It was slightly more surprising to realize, as you of course followed Marcus’ path through the crowd, that his mother, the almighty Anita Moreno, was also there, in the back of the little crowd.

   What could she possibly want to see this for?    You’d never met her, never even seen her other than on tv. Your only connection to her was through her son, but he had only mentioned her in the family sense, being the grandmother to his beloved daughter.    Of course, you didn’t know if he’d talked to her about you. If she knew how important he’d been to your survival and recovery. If so, then it made sense she might be a little curious.

   As you stood on the start line, doing your best not to let the massive wall, which was the first obstacle, deter you, your eyes were drawn back to Marcus, looking for comfort.    He was in his uniform again, and he looked winded, as though he’d hurried to get there in time to see this.    You noticed him throw a slightly confused gaze at his mother, though, once he clocked her, which seemed to confirm he hadn’t talked to her about you and certainly hadn’t expected to see her there.

   But he apparently decided not to dwell on it yet, turning his gaze away from her and down to you. And when he realized you were already looking at him, he gave you an encouraging nod and a warm smile, as if to say “I know you’ve got this”.    You’d been told that this course was the same one the Heroics regularly used for training, and that they’d scaled it down a bit for you, but the aim was still to test your physique quite rigorously, so it wouldn’t be easy.

   Nervous, but also eager to find out how much your training had paid off, you signalled the controller in charge of the timer that you were ready, and then waited for the whistle.    Scaled down or not, you found out right away that it really was a tough course. You had to use your whole body to get past practically every single obstacle, and by the end, you were so tired that you collapsed the moment you crossed the finish-line, to the zealous applause, whistles and cheers of the little crowd.

   The twins were by your side immediately, taking your vitals to make sure there was nothing abnormal about your exhaustion. That you were only as spent as anyone should be after giving it everything they had for fifteen minutes.    They’d been with you the whole day, and this was the final hurdle before you’d all get to rest. They’d both been sweating almost as much as you, just from worrying about you.    Finishing their exam by comparing it to your readings throughout the day, they finally announced their verdict.

   “All good. She’s okay,” they declared to the supervising physician, who in turn, looked at his digital pad and tapped a few times, before a smile crept into his features.

   “Well, it’s not a course-record, but considering the fact that most humans don’t even finish this course on their first try, I think we can give you your stamp now.”

   You sat up and stared wide-eyed at him, too stunned to find any words, but then Amaire shoved a water-bottle into your hand and all but pushed it into your mouth, temporarily sidelining your ability to respond.

   “I’m officially declaring you completely recovered, and no longer in need of medical assistance,” the physician announced, loudly enough for the entire room to hear, before he kneeled beside you and put a hand on your shoulder, lowering his voice as he added: “Congratulations, miss. You really are a miracle.”

   Joy bubbled up inside you as you took in his words.    You’d made it. You’d actually made it.    There was a light-hearted laughter in your throat as you worked on getting your pulse under control, made more difficult by the sudden burst of excitement.

   “Don’t let Miracle Guy hear you say that, Doc, whatever you do,” you joked, and he chuckled.

   “Hah, I’ll keep that in mind,” he winked, and then stood to leave.

   And when he turned away, your favourite Heroic was suddenly right in front of you, pulling you to your feet and into a tight hug in one fluid movement.    He’d never hugged you before, and you wished that he hadn’t done it now when you were soaking his uniform in your sweat. But, holy crap, did his arms feel good around you.

   “Felicidades, preciosa! I knew you’d be ready. How do you feel?” he laughed, while almost lifting you off the floor with exuberance, infecting you to laugh along with him.

   “Thank you, Marcus, I feel amazing. Like I wanna sleep for a week, but still amazing,” you chirped, before reluctantly pulling back to look at him.

   As wonderful as it was to be encircled by those arms, you wanted him to see your eyes when you spoke again.

   “Really, thank you. I don’t know if I could have recovered this well without you, or if I would’ve even been able to wake my body up, ever again.    I was trapped in the most impossible position imaginable, and you set me free. I’ve never thanked you for that. I don’t know how I could ever thank you enough,” you tried to explain, although it was hard to put words to how massive your gratitude really was.

   He looked mildly embarrassed by your gratitude, and his eyes seemed a bit glossier as he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter.    But you didn’t think he was being modest about the impact he’d had on your life, it was more like he was just overwhelmed by his own emotions, and perhaps not ready to let you see him at his most frail state of mind.    Then he spoke, and suddenly you knew exactly how overwhelmed he felt.

   “You have no idea what it means to me to see you like this. Strong, healthy and happy.    I’ll never forget those eyes staring up at me that day in the hospital. That image haunted my dreams for weeks.    So, every day I walked into your med-chamber, hoping to see you improved, only to find you unchanged. As if time had stopped, trapping you somewhere the rest of us couldn’t see or bring you back from. And it made me feel so helpless and useless.”

   He spoke quietly, right by your ear. These words were only for you, and you could hear in his voice just how true they were.    It brought tears of gratitude and joy to your eyes, but you held them back, for fear he might misinterpret them as pain.

   “You don’t owe me a damned thing, hermosa,” he added after a taking a few calming breaths, although you could still feel the thumping of his heart against your ribcage. “The fact that I get to see those eyes smile again, is more than I ever dared to dream.”

   But the moment abruptly ended then, when someone very loudly and deliberately cleared their throat right next to the two of you, making you automatically pull away from one another.    And then you nearly choked on your own saliva when you realized the person standing there was his mother.    Marcus, however, seemed only annoyed, all trace of overpowering emotion scrubbed from his face the moment he drew back from you.

   “Hi, mom. I was wondering what brought you here today,” he greeted, but his tone was suspicious, and he demonstratively crossed his arms while he turned towards her.

   “Are you not going to introduce me, hijo? Didn’t I raise you to be polite?” Mrs. Moreno chided, but her son was unaffected.

   “Oh, and here I thought sneaking up on people, deliberately trying to make them uncomfortable was considered impolite. My mistake,” he snorted sarcastically, to which his mother merely glared. “She doesn’t need your dramatic flares today, mama. Let her have her moment in peace.”

   But you just smiled at the two of them. You’d never been close with your own family, so it always warmed your heart to see people who were. And within the little tidbits he’d spoken about his mother during your long conversations in the med-chamber, you’d been able to discern that they were extremely close, which was why they could argue quite heatedly without ever getting truly angry with one another.

   “That’s okay. A little drama can be very entertaining,” you chipped in, keeping your tone light and smiling as you looked from Marcus to his mother.

   And since the son was clearly not gonna do it, you then introduced yourself, with a respectful nod, rather than offering your still sweat-soaked hand.    However, instead of the customary response of introducing herself in return, since this was the first time you met, she didn’t respond to you at all, and instead gave her son a sideways glance.

   “Don’t you have some Heroics to wrangle, Team Leader?” she huffed at him, to which his eyebrows climbed about three stories on his forehead.

   “Are you serious?”

   “Do I look like I’m joking?”

   “Do I look like I have any intention of leaving you alone with a woman who has no idea just how horridly manipulative you can be?” Marcus countered, and he was actually starting to sound a bit angry now.

   “Now you’re exaggerating, chico. When have I ever been horrid?”

   “I can count it out for you, if you’d like. Or maybe the word ‘ambassador’ will suffice?” he taunted, but she just shrugged.

   “That boy was a huevón. He needed a figurative slap in the right direction. And that situation has nothing to do with this,” she objected, but her son wasn’t having it.

   “Oh, but it has everything to do with this, because when you’re willing to humiliate someone in front of their entire office, for no greater reason than to prove a point, people might think twice before allowing you the opportunity to meddle with their fucking lives.”

   “Ay, mind your tongue,” was all the response she gave to his little tirade, she didn’t even try and argue her side of it, so apparently, Marcus was right in his observation.

   “Not even a little bit.    Now, if you’re not gonna be civil, or even polite enough to officially introduce yourself, much less explain why it’s suddenly so important for you to speak to someone you’ve taken no interest in before today, you better believe I’m not leaving my friend alone with you.    So, either start talking, or go away,” he countered, and you didn’t miss the slightly possessive edge to the way he said my friend.

   You were even a tad concerned at just how much you liked it.    His mother, on the other hand, scoffed and then turned on her heels and walked away. Apparently not willing to discuss whatever matter had brought her to you, with him present.

   “Sorry about that. She’s really sweet once you get to know her, but she’s also… tricky,” he excused, softening his stance and turning back to you once she’d left.

   “You know, I wouldn’t have minded speaking with her,” you said, while grabbing a fresh towel to try and get rid of the worst of the perspiration on your face, neck, and arms.

   “I’m sure you wouldn’t, but you don’t know how dangerous she is whenever she decides that something needs to change.    Consider that she’s never once asked about you, even with all the time I’ve spent in the med-section. Missy asked me about you every day, but mom… She never wanted to know how you were doing or even any details about what happened to you.    So, the fact that she’s approaching you now, when you’ve just been cleared, means she’s up to something, and I won’t trust her intentions until I know what it is.”

   “Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t touched by your willingness to protect me from monster mom,” you said light-heartedly, mostly just to try and hide your shock and curiosity concerning the fact that his daughter had asked about you.

   It seemed like such an intimate thing to learn that you’d been part of multiple conversations between a father and child, neither of which you knew all that well.    But Marcus’ face broke into a sheepish expression at your jovial comment, and he bowed his head to look at his own shoes.

   “I’d happily protect you from anyone,” he mumbled, as if he felt silly admitting he liked to act as your guardian.

   “Thank you. I’ll be sure to call if I’m ever in trouble again,” you smiled, and he looked up at you then.

   For a moment, a shadow of something painful swept over his features, before he quickly tried to adapt a more neutral expression.    It didn’t quite work, though.

   “So… you’re leaving?” he asked, and suddenly his voice sounded so flat and lifeless.

   “Well, yeah. I mean… I doubt they’ll just let me stay indefinitely and rent free. Not to mention take up a med-chamber which someone else will undoubtedly need at some point.    And I do miss my house, though maybe not the cleaning I’m in for, come to think of it. Then again, I am overdue for a good deep-clean. Shit, I wonder if any of my plants made it?    Is it weird that I’m looking forward to cleaning? And cooking, holy crap, do I miss cooking. And sun-bathing in the garden with my favourite music and curling up on the sofa with a boo-…” you cut yourself off when he started smiling in that knowing sort of way.

   Although, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

   “Crap. I’m rambling now, aren’t I?” you realized, feeling just a shade pathetic.

   “A bit,” he confirmed. “But I get it. Home is… home. And I’m really glad you get to go back to yours, after everything.”

   “Yeah, me too,” you replied, and now it was your turn to look slightly sheepish as you weren’t sure how to continue this conversation.

   What more was there to say? You didn’t wanna just say goodbye and walk off, that would feel like shutting a door in his face, somehow.

   “Um… so, I’m sure there’s a bunch of paperwork I’ll have to sign, and I most definitely need a long shower and a lot of soap before I go anywhere,” you blabbered, trying to get to the part you actually wanted to say. “But I would love to see you before I leave.”

   “Sure. I’ll most likely be in Operations, or my office. Just ask around,” he nodded, swaying a little awkwardly on the soles of his feet.

   “Okay,” you nodded in return, still unwilling to bid him farewell.

   Instead, you turned to Amaire, starting to thank them for all their help and support, and by the time you glanced back to where Marcus stood, he’d already left.

[hyumjim]

if you want to write erotica youre going to have to get comfortable with your own desire.

you may find yourself frustrated when trying to write erotica especially if you aren't used to it. any type of writing is vulnerable and revelatory, but we tend to attach a special significance to sexuality, so erotica can feel like much more of an exposure. that makes it difficult to pick up. and then once you've started, you are still constrained by your concerns about your writing being unsexy, which is like, an additional new concern that you may have on top of just worrying about being bad. unfortunately, the more you are worried about this, the more your writing will suffer for it.

if you have read any amount of erotica, you have probably had the experience of reading a piece that comes off as generic. there's a lot of cookie-cutter stories out there that go like this: once upon a time two men had anal sex with each other. they both orgasmed, the end. i exaggerate of course, but genuinely I often have had the thought, "wow, you could replace these character's names with any others and it wouldn't make a difference." this is boiler-plate bad erotica, and it is what you are going to end up replicating if you are too worried about sexiness or, really, mass appeal.

i think that "sexiness" is a different thing entirely from eroticism, really. and erotica is different from porn, although we may casually conflate the two. audre lorde drew a clear distinction between them in sister outsider, in which she also writes:

however you feel about that, let's take for granted that creating erotica means putting onto paper and presumably sharing something that excites you deep inside. (again, the same can be said of all writing, but it scares us to look at sex too directly.) this means that in order to create work that you can be proud of, you need to know what excites you. ask yourself what is hot about the scenario you're picturing. look it in the eye and don't shy away from it. it's not "two bodies are in a room together having sex." why are these people doing that? why is now the moment for them to do it in this specific way? what makes this day different from any other day? if you are really open to answering these sorts of questions then i think you will find you have plenty to write about, and the question of whether to use the word cock or penis or dick will seem much less significant to you.

shame is the enemy of all good writing, but it probably is most prevalent when it comes to the writing of erotica. try not to dismiss your erotic writings as less important or presentable than any other writing of yours by virtue of their subject matter. reading good erotica enriches us just like reading any other literature, and your erotic self deserves to be respected just as any other part of you.

[dailycharacteroption]

Fungal Pilgrim (Druid Archetype)

(art by Eugene Horyachkin on Artstation)

Ah, fungus, an often misunderstood and strangely wondrous and fascinating form of life. They can grow miles across underground with their mycelia network, yet most individuals assume that the reproductive bits that sprout up from the ground are the main body of the organism and not a fractionally small part of a bigger whole we never see.

Indeed, there is much about fungus that even in this day and age we do not know. There’s plenty of evidence that many fungi are at least somewhat aware of their environment, and many mycelia networks appear to be functionally immortal.

It’s no surprise then, that in a fantasy setting there would be those that view fungi as the ultimate life form, and seek to become more fungus-like.

As their name suggests, these fungal pilgrims are on a quest, though not one to any specific location, but they have a destination in mind: apotheosis into a fungal being. Some might be devotees of fungal deities good or evil, some may see it as a form of immortality, and some may simply think of fungus as a superior form of life. Either way, it’s not surprising that a class that has themes of transformation and becoming one with nature would have an archetype like this. However, this archetype replaces the wild shape that we are used to with a different, more permanent form of transformation.

The abilities of this archetype vary slightly based on whether they choose a bond with a companion or a domain.

If they choose domain, it must be the plant domain. Additionally, they can infuse fungal power into their summonings a few times per day. Whenever they summon a single creature, they also summon a second creature from the next highest summon list made of fungal matter, which has it’s advantages and disadvantages.

Alternatively, if they choose to take a companion, their companion slowly is infected by the transformation that these pilgrims seek, becoming a fungal creature that slowly gains the special abilities and attacks associated with such creatures like toxic blood or clouds of poisonous spores. The most powerful of these companions can even create fungal spawn from the bodies of slain foes, though these only last a few days before rotting away.

Close to the zenith of their power, these druids also transform into true fungal creatures, gaining the advantages therein.

Interested in a character other than a sorcerer or oracle that has a sort of late-game apotheosis? This archetype may be for you. The archetype makes major improvements to either summoning or the animal companion at the cost of wild shape, so either way you’ll likely want to take a more supportive role, though you yourself and your companion will prove especially tough in your own right as well.

This archetype can either be weird but otherwise just another way to seek perfection, or it might be insidious and horrifying. After all, is the character transforming into a fungus or being overwritten and replaced, and is there a difference. Also you can have a lot of fun describing their abilities, such as secondary summons tearing their way out of giant puffballs that spontaneously grow during the casting, or the foul, rotting form of your fungal companion.

The battle for the world of Makis is lost, the heroes are dead, and the planet (and all others in the same material plane) is being stripped of it’s resources and luxuries by a multiversal tyrant for their unchecked hedonism. However, hope remains in an unlikely place, for the Enclaves Below, where reclusive druids become one with the world’s mycelia network, ready for one last counterattack.

Recently, samsarans have come up missing from their communities, accompanied by a growing sense of dread among their kin. Those that suspect kidnapping are correct, for a cabal of fungal druids have been overtaken by a mutant fungal network that seeks to find a way to achieve immortality beyond even it’s perpetual existence, seeing the perpetually reincarnating souls of these beings as a possible answer.

The Millenium War left more scars on the land than just muddy battlefields and wastelands, for many weapons technological and magical were developed and deployed during that era. Now, one of those weapons, a living fungal disease, seeks to perpetuate the war, infesting fleshcrafted warbeasts and animated tanks for form an army of monsters. What’s more, some druids have begun worshipping the fungal mass, inviting it into their bodies.

[jcmarchi]

20+ Free Pixel Fonts for Creatives – Speckyboy

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20+ Free Pixel Fonts for Creatives – Speckyboy

Everyone loves a retro aesthetic. Pixel fonts offer a great way to add this old-school techno look to your projects. They prompt memories of classic video games, computer systems, and plenty of pop culture references.

They’re also more flexible than you might imagine. App development is a natural fit. Or use them as a headline font for your gaming blog. They also add a touch of fun to print materials, digital artwork, and video presentations.

Pixel fonts also feature a wide range of styles. Like other fonts, you’ll find both serif and sans-serif options. However, there are also different levels of thickness and character spacing. Each brings a unique personality to the table.

In this article, we’ve rounded up over twenty free pixel fonts available for download. Find your favorites, add them to your collection, and bring on the retro vibes!

Enjoy the fun look of this video game-inspired pixel font. Look closely, and you’ll find a delightful mix of squares and rectangles – just like the arcades and consoles of old. The relatively thin weight also keeps things legible.

Here’s a familiar font for fans of a certain classic game series. The package includes a full slate of characters, including punctuation. It’s an excellent choice for adding a bit of nostalgia to your project.

Inspired by old-school fighting games, this typeface features an action-packed look. Its bold and italicized text would be great for headlines and banners. Just don’t get too carried away with your street-fighting and knock over a lamp!

Bitroad is a mashup of styles representing the 1980s and 2000s. The font makes a bold statement while staying easy to read. It includes multiple typestyles and is available in several popular file formats.

Bold retro stylings are a hallmark of Sheko. Use it in places where you want to make the most impact. It features tight kerning that’s perfect for headlines and titles.

This all-caps pixel font will do wonders for your retro-themed designs. Each character features a variable outline that adds authenticity. It looks great in any size, and its low-contrast style offers a unique touch.

Add some slanted perspective to your project with this 8-bit typeface. Dotemp is a serif font that faithfully recreates the look of classic computing apps. It’s a variable font with regular and pixel styles.

Here’s a font that mixes elements of the old and new. It’s a pixelated font, for sure. However, it’s highly legible and includes some anti-aliasing. This one is a great fit when a more subtle approach to retro is in order.

Talk about unique, here’s a hand-drawn pixel font. The result is a fun typeface with classic looks and a decidedly modern charm. It also includes plenty of special characters to make it a versatile pick.

Travel back to the days when arcades ruled with this classic typeface. You won’t find any fancy effects here. The look is simple – a good representation of what once was. Sometimes, that’s all you need to make a statement.

Here’s a font with a twist on the pixelated style. It features a rounded look to soften those sharp edges. It’s a nice alternative to the more brutalist options on this list.

Tiny5 goes all out when it comes to pixelation. The characters are chunky, and the shapes are free of anti-aliasing. There’s simply no compromise. Therefore, reserve this one for use on headlines and banners.

Silver was built with game developers (and gamers) in mind. The multi-language font includes gamepad buttons with full keyboard and mouse prompts. Use it in your apps to give users an authentic experience.

Be bold and tell a story with this thick pixel font. It’s aimed at game developers but is also a natural fit for website hero areas. It’s another handy choice for your typography toolbox.

Pixelify Sans is a no-nonsense typeface that comes in four distinct font weights. That provides more flexibility than your average pixel font. It can be used in both large and small sizes and maintain readability.

You may notice that Dogica is easier on the eyes than most pixel fonts. It offers monospaced and kerned versions. Either way, you’re getting a legible font that can be used at the tiniest sizes. That makes it an all-purpose winner.

Silkscreen is a cross-platform pixel font built for websites and online apps. It’s an all-caps font with extra spacing between characters. It would work beautifully for the text headers on your tech blog.

Need a pixel font fit for smaller sizes? This one fits the bill with the ability to stay legible no matter how low you go. You might use it for those little design accents on websites and print documents.

Give your projects a subtly pixelated look with this display font. It features a distorted style that will help your designs stand out. It’s proof that pixel fonts don’t have to be harsh.

Here’s a style that looks like it comes from another galaxy. Pigxel brings a lot of curves to the pixel font playbook. Use it to create titles meant to send users far, far away.

This minimalistic font’s origins can be traced to an iOS pixel art app. Thus, you can be confident in displaying it on any screen. It also includes plenty of symbols for added flexibility.

PICO-8 is available in several flavors, including monospaced, all-caps, and wide. That makes it a good option for niche use cases. Beyond that, this True-Type font is a fun way to spice up your designs.

This pixel font adds extra pizzaz with blocky glyphs and thick sizing. It’s reminiscent of the systems we saw in sci-fi movies from the 1970s and 80s. Perfect for transporting your designs into hyperspace.

Write code the way our ancestors did – with a pixel font! Pixel Code is a monospaced font designed for use in code editors. It aims to maximize readability and includes a complete set of programming ligatures.

Here’s a collection of 20 pixel fonts – all with a public domain license. You’ll find a variety of styles to choose from. There are great options for fantasy gamers, along with more conventional typefaces.

The Power of Pixelation

Pixel fonts are one of the more fun typographic categories. You’ll find basic similarities. But the details are often what separates them. The font’s weight, shape, and letter spacing are defining factors. You can use them to create different moods and aesthetics.

So, choose your favorites and create something awesome!

More Free Fonts

From clean sans-serifs to elegant serifs and everything in between, there’s something here for every project type. Whether you need something simple and minimal or more striking, like bold or stencil fonts, you’ll find fonts ready to improve your typography.

More Free Fonts

Related Topics

[anewp0tat0]

Chapter 198

I've wanted a Christmas filler chapter for a while, just because I think it would have some great phantomfam interactions + some snide comments from Sebastian about how useless God is or whatever he likes to brag about... but I know we may never get that, so I am over the moon with this image here. this is all I need😫 Ciel's scarf bow is our Christmas present.

and Ciel gets a muff too FINALLY☺️. it seems that once again yana really doesn't care about the fact that she's giving him predominantly female gendered clothing for the time era(as far as I know), but when has she ever cared. let's just congratulate Sebastian on his good parenting and feminism. or rather in this case, traditional values?.... mhm

it's just adorable.

...

we also got weird interactions like this:

yea Theo knows. and he angry. the real question is if in the end, he'll help the others escape their fledging day(most likely O!ciel's aptitude) or simply work to save himself(most likely R!ciel's aptitude).

finny is the best possible boy though, and who knows maybe this will all be solved by the power of friendship and Theo will ultimately put his trust in team O!ciel. that would be great!

...

;_;

this truly makes me so upset, it's not fair for Mabel to feel anything other than bittersweetness that her friend is leaving, rather than agony. same goes for everyone else.

....

these 2 kids are strong and it's is pretty odd, but I guess when compared to other characters like Jane, it's not too surprising...

maybe Doll gave them circus training, who knows. Mabel most likely, since Doll spends most time with her group, at least I'm assuming from the clothes.

also, I'm not a knife expert but those look like something they probably just plucked from the kitchen. if doll is with them, she isn't giving them special weapons like Layla owned. that's probably just a kitchen knife the "collie class" have access to.

...

honestly, I've tried so far to be very suspicious and hostile towards these kids in the hope that they'll get to walk away into the sunset like the possible side antagonists they are. but really, I'm just very much hoping that they don't end up going through any pain. I don't want any more serious moments where children cry, please...

so the ambush, why did this happen: I'm guessing that these kids don't just guarding the hallway regularly, and they just so happened to run into Finny today. my guess is that they knew/found out that Finny would sneak around(probably with Doll's insight? cause this is his first night!) and quickly prepared for him. but most importantly, they must know one way or another that the orphanage staff(or Doll?) is prepared to kill Finny soon.

what's most surprising to me is that these kids want Finny alive. idk about the other kids, but I think plenty of us assumed that Theo would rather have Finny(and snake) disposed of. so either I was wrong, or what's going on here is a manipulation scheme where Theo makes Finny think that he's in danger, simply so that he can use him. this makes more sense to me because if both Finny and Snake were in immediate danger, they would probably wake up Snake, too. after all, Theo is a pomeranian, he could think of such a thing. in this case the kids may be working for Doll.

if however this isn't a scheme and instead a genuine attempt to help finny and Snake, then they probably aren't working with Doll, since she probably wouldn't want to sneak them into the inner working of the facility.

ah idk, well find out next chapter. or, the whole next chapter will be spent walking to the meet up room. maybe finny will start flashbacks right there right now. who knows.

where should I place my bets, that these kids are gonna take Finny back to some secret hide out room(possible blood drawing), or are they gonna take him back to where Doll is cause they're working with her...

...

also, it's really interesting how these two stay in "character" right here, both in the typical pose of the person/role they're mocking.

...

actually you know what, Theo probably figured that Finny was worth being recruited after this right here:

sorry, long post today, lots to worry about, and if you read all this then you mean the world to me! have a great day!

[demonslayedher]

Hello!! It’s such an honor to find myself in your ask box. Your work actually helped inspire me to make my own tumblr and AO3! Thanks for giving us such wonderful content! :D <3

My question today: How did Akaza retain his spot as an upper moon when he has such a low appetite? Muzan, Douma, and pretty much everyone else keep insisting that eating lots of humans is essential to building strength. Poor Kyogai even got booted from the ranks once he couldn’t bear to eat any more. But despite Akaza’s apparent inability to eat nutritious women and his preference to gain power through training, he was allowed to keep his spot and even given a special pardon from Muzan. Why do you think this is? Is the whole gaining-strength-mainly-through-training thing an ability that is special to Akaza? Could that be interesting enough to Muzan for him to forgive Akaza for having a weak stomach? Or is this just straight up favoritism because he’s loyal and does good work? I’ve always been confused at how he was able (and allowed!) to keep up with his fellow Moons, because they certainly all eat plenty.

Keep up the good work we appreciate you lots!! :D

Tumblr and AO3?? That is an honor! Thank you for joining the rocks I live under on the fandom internet, I hope you have fun! And thank you for your interesting posts thus far!

As for our favorite gym bro Akaza keeping his spot among the Upper Moons, he perhaps started with way, way, way more Muzan Juice than someone like Kyogai did. Akaza's always had such a focus on training as a means of getting stronger than I think it really does have as powerful an affect as Nezuko's sleeping, for as Daki noted, Nezuko's regenerative abilities were on par with or even faster than Upper Moons. However, we don't know that Akaza lacks an appetite in the first place. Unlike Nezuko he's never had a reason to hold back from eating someone who looks appetizing, and especially in his early days, I'll bet he ate plenty. However, overtime, Akaza has put more faith in his own strength and training, and sets his sights on someone else with a similar attitude, Kokushibo. Kokushibo likes this spirit in Akaza and let him live after he lost their battles (instead of absorbing him like he did with other loser demons), like professional courtesy between martial artists. Kokushibo's problems with Akaza are in his professionalism, not with his lack of eating humans. He's recognized Akaza as having potential as a worthy opponent, whether or not Akaza eats a lot of humans, because by this point, Akaza just doesn't need to. He's not like some lowly Lower Moon who needs to try to do something as crazy as eat over 200 people at once before he's even got a chance of challenging an Upper Moon.

Douma is more like our resident health supplement salesman and I'll bet he's never touched a dumbbell. Although Douma wholeheartedly believes that women are more nutritious because their bodies can support the growth of other human beings, that doesn't necessarily mean he's right. Also, what's most nutritious and beneficial to one demon might not necessarily be the sort of nutrition good for another demon's needs, like who knows, maybe the Snake Demon didn't just enjoy the flesh of babies, but they were easily for her to digest or something. The one common rule is that the stronger and healthier your food the stronger and healthier it'll probably make you, and if you're a strong enough demon to catch and eat a Pillar, that'll probably make for a really good protein shake.

See here for much, much more thought on how eating humans actually works and benefits demons, but even though this is the normal pattern of how demons get stronger, I don't think Muzan cares if Akaza isn't eating humans so long as he's strong anyway. It's annoying that Akaza is such a sissy when it comes to women, but like you said, it probably is straight up favoritism because he’s loyal and does good work. You know, except for that lack of blue spider lily results. Akaza's still an easier underling to have around than Douma, even if Douma is technically stronger.

Could Akaza overtake Douma, and perhaps even Kokushibo if he chowed down more on people, like the Pillars he's killed? While this could certainly help, by this point he's developed his own constitution to be so oriented toward physical training that perhaps digestion isn't even his strong suit (unlike Douma, that show-off who doesn't even need to use his mouth). It make not be that he can't eat, like how Kyogai found his limits, but it just takes more energy than its worth when he could better spend that on training. As for Akaza's eating preferences, he know he likely avoids eating women, and I could see him punching the head off some guy abusing his wife and then nonchalantly eating that guy while the wife runs off screaming, but what I truly wonder if he would had eaten Kyojuro is given the chance. It may be that he'd have seen this as a way for strong people he knew to live on, like mementos of their fights (but this feels like a very Douma style of looking at it), but on the other hand, he may have had too much respect for them and professional courtesy to have found them appetizing. Tanjiro, though, yeah, he'd probably had taken a big bite out of his brains just 'cause he hated him. Not that he'd gain much from eating a weakling like that, though! Eating people of that caliber is probably just like staying hydrated, not a proper meal. But again, this is all guesswork on his actual eating habits!

[ansbobcar]

EP 23 - What is there to smile for?

WORD COUNT. 1205

Link to overview

_ _ _ _ _

Preparations for the Divine Visionary Final Exam Trimagicathlon were a pain. They had to refurbish the venue for the opening ceremony and the audience’s seats, check the equipment for the audience were all functioning and plenty, prepare the exam venue whenever the Bureau would make it…

“Why do we even do these examinations?”

“Well, how else are you expecting us to get our replacements, Inky?” Renatus yawned back, holding onto a stack of papers. “We’ve been doing this for a century already, traditions are hard to break.”

“But why are we starting immediately after the new year!” She complained. “It’s like… utterly ridiculous! It’s all in March too!”

“Go ask your boyfriend if you want a fucking answer.”

That reminded her of something, she realised, as they continued to walk towards the temporary exam committee. Speedily dropping off the papers before continuing on with the schedule, she rushed back to her desk and checked for any reminders in her calendar. What was it that she forgot? She didn’t even know what it was but it felt wrong to ignore it.

‘Ahah!’ Finding a note that mentioned January 13th. “Really?”

_ _ _

“You’re asking me about it?” Orter stared at her blankly, unsure of his aide. 

She wasn’t asking about if he knew it was his little brother’s birthday, “You didn’t make him a card did you?” her arms crossed from his indifference.

“Does it matter?” She playfully bonked him in the head. Repeatedly. Of course it mattered! “Our parents stopped celebrating our birthdays once we became 12,” he added. That’s not an excuse!

“Didn’t he send you letters?” she countered, pointing her finger at him. “You never replied to a single one either.” She’s going to keep pestering him about it. “There’s only 3 days left, you better write.”

Now that he thought about it…

“What brings you back here, Orter Madl?” wondered Wahlberg, amused by his staying presence. It wasn’t common for the Sand Cane to stay longer than necessary for keeping up appearances, of which he did very little of. “Do you need my help with anything?”

The old man’s eyes widened at his hesitant words. “Would it be possible to reroute… my brother’s school fees to me instead?”

With a sigh, he replied, “Unfortunately, you are not his guardian and unless special circumstances arise, you can’t become his legal guardian without permission.”

“Then… could you send me a copy of his report cards?”

“Of course.”

‘That took too long to get settled,’ he reminisced to himself as she folded some paper to make a card. She seemed to put more effort into getting them to interact considering how terrible her relationship with her blood relatives are.

Shoving the folded card with doodles of fruit for the cover to him, she uttered, “Here.”

He might as well just write it so she could continue doing work instead of pestering her.

“That reminds me, we’ve been implying this topic for a while,” he began, watching her blank yet calculative stare as he tried writing the birthday card. “Are you planning to get married to me?”

“Honestly,” she sighed, “It is convenient to simply get married, regardless of whether it’s contractual, mutual or some other thing. However, I think the progression is a bit too sudden for a marriage.”

“Think about it,” she added, counting with her fingers, “the biggest hurdle regarding our parents has been resolved, they completely believe this relationship is real and won’t interfere with it—publicly at the least—and my mother let go of the issue after you stayed the night.”

“Did your mother drug me?” She remembered him ask, holding onto his head-splitting headache. 

“Nothing that will get her breaking the law.”

“And everyone’s settled that we’re together… but,” pulling out another finger to tap, “There’s a few things that don’t make sense with how we’ve done things. Mainly the fact that you took me to the winter ball and that you were seen with the late Ms. Ivona most often while I was handling my ‘Spring Cleanup’ during the last 2 months before we decided to go public.”

She could tell his mood shifted into a sour tone by the mention of that name. It’s a fact neither of them can deny: Alexa Ivona hung out with Orter Madl frequently. Daily almost. With a bright smile etched onto her face almost every second she was around him.

Holding onto his head with his hand, he sighed instead. “I forgot to ask when you asked me out in the first place. Are you assuming it was after the fight we had last December?” he asked. It would allow for more time to be considered.

She was taken aback by the comment as the chilling wind blew through the window. Her eyes softened at this comment before she replied, “you were really cute back then. I thought you would remember it well, you won that one after all.”

“You let me win.”

“But it’s still a win, isn’t it?”

_ _ _

The opening ceremony was as tense as you would expect with the presence of the infamous ‘Wandless Psycho’ Darren Randel and the power hungry Walkis candidates. Thankfully, the presence of both heads of the Magical Power Administration suppressed majority of the tension from lashing out. After all, who would want to go up against the two who defeated more than 2 Madjinns with ease? It’s like a death sentence to your reputation.

Very little happened during the ceremony beyond exchanging some speeches between the principals of each school and introducing the participants… finalists if you will to this esteemed position. The tournament is held two days after the ceremony as well.

“With that, the opening ceremony for the Divine Visionary Final Exam has concluded!”

Rinka simply watched as the students slowly emptied the hall as the other principals left. Leaving her with Principal Wahlberg Baigan and Ryoh Grantz who seemed to be in high spirits. “Did you need anything from me?” She wondered.

The old man in his 100s chuckled at her obtuse expression. “Congratulations, Rinka,” he clapped his hands for a moment. “Now I feel bad for trying to get him to see someone else when he was still at the academy.” She simply tilted her head at this comment. “You should’ve hosted an engagement party to make it more obvious!”

Right, she accepted his words. “Thank you, we’ve been too busy to announce it. I’m a bit embarrassed that you noticed.”

“Young Orter always had seemed to coldly shut down any suggestions of a relationship with a woman, so I assumed he had his sights elsewhere,” he chuckled. “I didn’t expect him to be interested in you considering your track record either.”

“Right? She managed to snatch his heart with ease!” Ryoh added on. “But they work rather well don’t you think? You should wait until the honeymoon phase is over, that’s when you really know what it means.”

“Thank you,” she repeated. “I’ll be taking my leave,” she watched the sunset as she remembered his words, with a delicate yet unsure tone and eyes avoiding her gaze.

“Would you turn me down if I asked you to marry me this summer?”

“I wouldn’t.”

_ _ _ _ _

I wanted to make the thing a bit more natural but I think it would just drag the story a bit too much :)

[thedivineart]

TUTORIAL 101: HOW TO LEAVE FEEDBACK IN JUST THREE STEPS

sensitive, immature and negative people do not interact

Hello, I just recently notice that some people are having a hard time on leaving feedback on tarot readers. I made this tutorial for people who do have hard time in leaving feedback or doesn't know how to! To know, this is my own opinion expect plenty of grammatical errors.

In case, I see bunches of people saying only thank you or thank you so much, the reading resonates me well. Dude! Is that even feedback? Those people made me laughed so hard. Bruhh, these special gifted people are taking time to read your energy and then those are the words you can say? not even worth it at all. Did you even realize how hard for them to read every energy of different individuals? It is very exhausting fr. At least, make some effort in leaving feedback cause this gifted beings are making efforts in your reading. Did you know leaving right feedback will make tarot readers to get alive and finish all people who did join their games, free readings, pacs etc. It like a energizing medicine to keep them up doing better and all done each reading. The tutorial:

1. Greetings

Take your feedback with a wonderful greeting such as simply saying, hello, hi, how are you, hope you enjoy your day, it's good to interact with you, or my pleasure to have my reading with you etc.

sample: Hello, how are you? I do see and read the reading you made/sent to me. What a pleasure for me that you did my reading<333

simply as that, is it hard?no, unless you are a lazy ass or doesn't appreciate other work

2. The Body

This is the most important part of the feedback. It will split into two categories: the comparison and similarities

Dictate what are the things that are resonates with you ( no, not all- just summarize it as possible ) and also allow the reader what are the said things that aren't resonates with you ( if ever you are comfortable saying it though ). Remember everything have it's negative and so energies too, the energy you bring to the reader either be positive or negative. If the reading have full of posivity means you have good energy at the moment and opposite on the other side.

A. Comparison, do not tell to a reader that their reading is much more better than the other one ( yes, you can but don't bother to mention a certain reader, it will hurt them ) Everyone is good and best, all are trying better to give you a wonderful reading. Also don't mention any of username, names of the person who did your reading. It okay to compare but don't be out of the limit.

B. Similarities, take what are the similarities in other reading, kindly dictate it on your feedback. you can also take notes what are the things aren't yet/still resonates with you.

It does mean that your reading have negative side, does it mean it is not resonates with you. Don't consume to much sweets in sugar coated words.

3. Last Part

Say the things you wanted to say to person who did your reading. You can also ask a question the reader what are the things that aren't clear for you so they can enlightened you at some point however use your 100% logic and understanding before making some assumptions on things aren't clear to you and to your reading.

right sample:

more sample of feedback:

ps. I cannot find more sample but I'll try to add soon...

[cagcd]

     He was always the active type of person,   never an idle moment in his life as he always seemed to find something to keep him occupied.   It was a habit born by necessity,   all this extra energy needing to be spent somewhere doing something useful,   never the kind to be easily bored but quick to feel as such if there was nothing to do.   Admittedly,   that abundance of energy had led to plenty of decisions he now regrets so deeply,   all those parties and drinking in an early career had done him more bad than there ever was any good.   It was a way to numb that deep emptiness at the core of his being,   even if momentarily.   Thankfully,   with time he had learned to forgo these needless habits and focused more and what mattered most,   he focused on family,   career and the better pursuit that came with his affiliation with the special forces,   which he loved,   despite the uptight atmosphere of soldiers,   his daughter and the latest addition to the team now known as the combat kids had lightened the atmosphere ten folds,   being the one in charge of their training and missions he certainly let them get away with things most wouldn't,   [   he had a soft spot for them,   there's no helping it.   ]

  It was honest work,   the kind he would pour his heart into unlike the earlier days of jumping from one project to another.   However,   it was difficult sometimes,   balancing out between shooting,   production,   training and missions had worn him out on some days,   today was one of them,   as he found himself nearly spilling his coffee,   and spending a good deal of his morning in the kitchen just staring at the mug,   still untouched with him struggling to keep his eyes open.   He hardly had a break from the last mission then flew right back in for a studio shoot,   none that he couldn't handle but the urge to drop everything and sleep for a full month was far too tempting.

     "You have bags, and I'm not talking about the Gucci kind." / xoxo ur beloved daughter cassie telling it like it is

     Damn,   he didn't even hear her come in,   now she was on the opposite end of the counter having a full breakfast,   he really needs to take a nap.   Johnny groaned,   appreciative of her sense of humor but didn't have the energy for praise.   He could really use something stronger at the moment but he doesn't even entertain the idea,   it was instances like these where feels glad for quitting drinking,   yet that weakness was a beast he seems to fight against when least expected.   But when weakness comes,   there's always his little Cassie there to keep him grounded,   ever so protective   &.   fierce as he was when it came to the other's well being.

        ❛❛   Of course they're not Gucci,   they're Cage,   get the brand right.   ❜❜        he shot back nonetheless,   assuring and lightening the mood with his response.   She had every right to worry,   he probably looked awful.        ❛❛   I'm fine,   princess,   I just need to get through today's shoot and it's a coma-induced nap for me,   you better not include me in anything this weekend                or for the next month for that matter,   I'm not budging.   ❜❜        an exaggeration at best,   though he felt it so deeply as he allowed himself to give in for a moment and bury his head between his arms,   a pause.        ❛❛   You think if I straight up chew on coffee beans it'll wake me up ?   ❜❜

@starspurn // princess i love you but don't slander the family name

[emmybeearts]

Day 23: Ship

It's a known fact that we are far from the first humans on Atria. Before the Cohab Institute, the rift was wild and uncontrolled and could open anywhere at any time. Just as many things were accidentally pulled into it as came out. Of course, once early explorers began mapping the rift, and finding patterns as to where you might end up, the temptation to visit an alien planet grew for just about everyone. Sadly, this included the likes of smugglers, and poachers too. 

Today we came across an old smugglers outpost. Everything here is distinctly human. Too small to be used by the Kyurall. Not to mention the distinct ‘ramshackle human hideout’ aesthetic. Wildlife had almost completely reclaimed the place, but the remnants of old buildings still stood, as did the waste left behind. 

Amongst the stray scrap metal roofing and recycled parts of an old transport ship, we stumbled across a stash of old fuel barrels. The metal was rusted and cracked in places but, surprisingly, the fuel was still good. I decided it might be a good idea to try and fire up what looked to be an old generator made out of a scrap rocket engine. Lily seriously needed a bigger energy fix than what their measly solar patches and what my equiptment’s batteries could provide. Not to mention I would be able to charge up my data pad again and actually know the names of a few of the animals we come across for the first time in weeks. 

As I went to move one of these barrels, however, I noticed that over a dozen beetle-like crab-bugs were dancing on the surface of this fuel like water striders. These Shuttlebugs were about the size of my hand and their colors were primarily white with metallic golden accents, reminiscent of the Christmas beetle. Four of the beetle’s eight tarsi had hypertrophied into light, robust disks that increased the surface area of its setae, letting it float on the liquid fuel with ease. What I wasn’t expecting was that It was so buoyant, that it was able to support multiple passengers.

Anywhere from three to six smaller beetles clung to the abdomen of the larger Shuttlebug. They’re labeled in the database as Aerozinnia. Some were white or silver but most of them were completely gold in color and all had false heads on the end of their abdomen. They were also half the size of the first beetle but easily more than twice the weight. Peering deeper into the barrel, I noticed the Aerozinnia would occasionally dip their true heads into the fuel. I was curious as to why at first but as I continued observing the groups, the answers became shockingly clear. 

The Aerozinnia dunked their heads because they were consuming the rocket fuel. Somehow, these unassuming crab-bugs have the ability to break down and metabolize the artificial energy source. However, this hyper-specialized adaptation seemed to have altered their digestive system and made them too dense to float. If they attempted to get to the liquid fuel, deep in these barrels themselves, they would tragically drown in their favorite food. Fortunately, it seems the breaking down of this artificial food source generates a form of honeydew that plenty of other animals are perfectly suited to consume. 

That's where the Shuttlebugs come in. They have no interest in the fuel but can possess the ability to float on its surface and also survive in its fumes. They act as tiny transports, carrying smaller passengers into the fuel to eat. In return, they get paid in honeydew. The Aerozinnia even get a free cleaning service from the bigger beetle. 

Despite how fascinating this symbiotic relationship is between these two unrelated crab-bugs, the implications behind it create a far bigger mystery. Such a process of breaking down synthetic fuels, something that is lethal to most animals that consume it, would have taken millions of years to evolve. This relationship between two different species would have taken just as long, if not longer. It's impossible for human fuel to be the cause of this mutation, our species is barely over 4 million years old, not to mention we only just discovered advanced forms of rocketry a few hundred years ago. 

It's possible this has something to do with that cavernous computer system we found ourselves in. Energy was pulsing through the entire cavern so something must have been powering it, right? I know it's an old construct, but now I’m desperate to know just how old it could actually be while still being, in some form, functional. I need to know more about these precursors but unfortunately, it seems the only one who knows anything about them is that Kyurall cultist who I can not bring myself to go back to. It seems every time Atria gives me a glimpse into its past and its potential, I only get more questions than answers.

[End Transcription]

[mastrefridgerepairs]

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