#retina display meaning

[getreview4u]

(via What is the Retina Display?)

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

Thank you for you blog! I love it so much - I come here daily to read your latest posts.

I'd love to own a snake but alas, I currently live in New Zealand so no snakes for me.

Do you have cool facts about tuatara? I do but I'd love readers of your blog to learn about these cool little reptiles!

It's a huge dream of mine to work with tuatara one day! I've always loved the reptile life of Oceania and literally the only reason I haven't already moved to Australia or even Aotearoa/NZ is because of the limitations on keeping non-native species.

Anyway, aren't tuatara just the coolest? For those unfamiliar, tuatara (Sphenodon punctatus) might look like lizards, but they're not! Tuatara are the only surviving members of Rhynchocephalia, the sister order to Squamata, the scaled reptiles (lizards, snakes, and amphisbaenians).

Rhynchocephalians used to be very widespread, but today they exist only in limited populations in Aotearoa. They were almost driven to extinction by habitat loss and pressure from invasive species, and for a long time the only wild populations were on offshore islands. In a huge success for tuatara conservation, though, populations were reintroduced onto the North Island and there are now hatchlings being born on the North Island for the first time in centuries. There's still so much work to be done to help these amazing reptiles, but it's worth celebrating! The Chester Zoo in England has also welcomed tuatara hatchlings, meaning tuatara have been successfully bred outside of Aotearoa for the first time and indicating possible future success for wider zoo breeding programs across the world!

Tuatara have many anatomical features that are unique among reptiles, and they tell us a lot about the extinct rhynchocephalians. Their teeth arrangement is unique among reptiles, and their lower jaws can slide to cut through bone. They're the only known amniotes who have hourglass-shaped vertebrae, and they have gastralia (belly ribs). Even if they might look kinda like lizards on the outside, their skeleton is wildly different!

Tuatara have the most well-developed parietal eyes of any vertebrates. These are "third eyes" that sit on top of the head, and in most reptiles who have them they're extremely primitive, but in tuatara they have well-developed retinas and a cornea-like structure! Parietal eyes are covered by a thin layer of skin and probably help with thermoregulation and day/night cycle regulation.

They are carnivores and eat a wide diet of insects, lizards, and birds. Juvenile tuatara will hunt during the day so they can avoid being eaten themselves by adult tuatara, who hunt at night.

The name "tuatara" comes from te reo Māori, and means "peaks on the back," a reference to the spines along a tuatara's back. Tuatara are sexually dimorphic, and the spines are larger and more rigid in males. They're used in breeding and defensive displays!

One of the challenges for tuatara conservation is how long it takes them to reach sexual maturity - about 10-20 years, and they tend to have very small egg clutches. They've been recorded to lay up to 19 eggs, but a more typical clutch is as small as 3-6 eggs or even a single egg. These eggs also take over a year to be laid and hatch. They have the slowest growth rates of any reptile, reaching full size at around 30 years and having an average lifespan of around 60 but lifespans closer to 100 not being uncommon.

The oldest known tuatara is named Henry, and he lives at the Invercargill museum on the South Island. He's at least 120 but may be as old as 150, and is still fathering healthy clutches!

Tuatara are simply incredible. They're so unique among living reptiles, and they have so much to tell us about a mostly-extinct order of reptiles. Plus, like, you can't deny they're so cool and adorable!

[wittlesissyb4by]

Author's Note: If you're wondering where Chapter 4 is, you're not going crazy. Due to the nature and formatting (it uses chatlogs and explicit content) it is not suited enough for this prude-ass site. I'm sorry to say, but if you want to read Chapter 4 (and all the way up to 7), you'll have to subscribe to my SubStar. I'm sorry, I wish there was another way, but I will have it available for even the least expensive option of $3. My sincerest apologies. Still, I think you'll still be able to grasp the story without missing too much context from Ch. 4 (our main character, Alan, performed a task, and was rewarded with pictures of Persephone.) I hope you can still enjoy the story below. Thanks for reading!

The White Rabbit Chapter 5 - Cockslut

I had never jerked off to the same set of pictures so many times in my life. Even when I was younger and found my Dad’s dirty magazines, my prepubescent self didn’t spank it as much as I had to the photos I’d just received from Persephone.  I spent so long staring and fapping to those pictures she sent, every inch of her was embedded into my brain. Burned into my retinas like when a TV is left on for so long that it damages the display. Hell, it probably is burned into my phone screen from being up so many times. 

She’s even more gorgeous than I imagined. It’s rare that something can live up to the hype you’ve been building up for it for so long. I pored over every pixel of her perfect body, examined the contours of her cheeks, the twinkle in her eyes, the crooks of that devious smile, the splotches of colors in her tattoos, specifically the one of the little white rabbit.

“That doesn’t mean that’s what she really looks like. She could be catfishing you” That tiny voice in the back of my head still whispered.  But I shoved that thought aside, even after the post-nut clarity hit.

I still masturbated the way she told me to. Every single time. Fingering the head of my dripping clit through my little panties with a dildo in my mouth or ass. I didn’t last long at all. I imagined her standing over me, smiling that wicked smile, laughing at me while shoving that dildo in my mouth, or pounding me in the ass with it. I finally was able to give a face to the rubber dick I’d been shoving in my holes for so long. What I wouldn’t give to have her right there next to me, doing all the things I imagined, but in reality.

Persephone didn’t talk to me for a few days. I don’t know if she had something going on, or if she was just leaving me to my own devices, to stare longingly at her photos, to imagine scenarios of her in my head. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I think it also makes subs more dependent on their Mistresses. 

Without her guiding presence, I was left with this odd sort of void. No one was telling me what to do anymore. How would I know how to “fuck my slutty little asshole” if she wasn’t there to tease and berate me with her messages?

I’m not proud of what I did in her absence. 

“Sorry, I had some things…come up at work.” She messaged after almost a whole week. 

“It’s fine.” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, like I wasn’t checking my phone every 30 seconds in hopes that she would finally respond. 

“Did you do okay while I was gone?”

“Yes Mistress.” I said, hoping to leave it at that.

“My little slut was able to handle herself?”

I guess you could say that.  “Yes Mistress.”

But something was eating at me. I didn’t know how to tell her, I didn’t know if I wanted to tell her. But this relationship—no matter how weird it was—had to be built on trust, right?

“I…i might’ve…” I typed out the next part, deleted it, then typed again. “I may have…found someone else…”

My heart was pounding as I waited for her response, but it didn’t take long. 

“Oh?”

She wanted me to elaborate. 

“Did you find a girl in real life that’ll dress you up like a sissy bitch and fuck your little butt, slut?”

I audibly scoffed at that. Like that would ever happen. 

“No I…found some other people online…”

“People? As in, more than one?”

“I…yea…”

She didn’t say anything for a while. She must have been fuming. 

“Are they girls? Or are they men?”

I felt myself flush, shriveling into myself. I felt so ashamed, not just because of what it was, but because I knew I was disappointing her. I was effectively ‘cheating’ on her. 

“Men…😞”

Nothing happened for a second, minutes, hours— or at least that’s what it felt like. Then, Persephone is typing…

It took a long time too. She must have been writing a novel. Berating me for being such a piece of shit. I finally found a girl to fulfill my dreams, and I went and blew it as soon as she stepped away for a few days. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” She said. “Did you sext with them??”

Again, I wanted to lie, but there was no denying it now. “Yes…”

“This is it. I blew it. A girl any submissive would kill for, and I let it slip away the first chance I got. 

Persephone is typing…

I was sweating, dreading what was to come. Finally, a massive text bubble hit the screen. 

“LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂”

Well…that wasn’t the response I expected. 

“You fucking WHORE!! Hahaha”

I felt a bit of tentative relief, still not quite sure how she was taking it. 

“Did I tell you you had to do that??”

“No ma’am…😥”

“But you did it anyway?”

“Mhmm.. 😣”

“You know, this is the second time you’ve done something without my permission, and it always seems to involve cock…”

She was referring to the time I used the dildos she ‘made’ me buy. She didn’t tell me to use them, she didn’t have to, I just…did it anyway. 

“Because you’re a desperate little cockslut, aren’t you?”

My immediate reaction was to deny it, the same way I’d been doing my whole life. I always told myself ‘as long as a woman was making me be a slut for men, it was fine. It’s not gay.’ But the proof was right there. Even without her around I still went out and did what I always told myself I’d never do on my own. 

“I…i think so…😩”

“I wanna hear you say it.” 

“Say what?”

“Tell me what you are.”

It took a second to register what she meant, but then it hit me like a truck.

“I’m a little cockslut…” I said. Just typing the words made me feel weird, but also weirdly arroused…

“Louder.”

I switched to all caps, “I’M A LITTLE COCKSLUT!!”

“No no.” She replied, “I want you to make a video. Put your little panties on, get on your dildo, and start bouncing.”

I scrambled to obey, perhaps a bit too quickly. My cock was already fully erect by the time I pulled my panties up around it. I stuck the suction cup to the floor, making the rubber dick sway back and forth, squirted a generous amount of lube on the tip, worked some between my crack, pulled my panties aside, hit the video, and started recording. 

I slowly lowered myself down on it, wincing as it pressed inside my unrelaxed sphincter. There were several seconds of awkward fumbling and adjusting and lowering and gasping before it finally worked its way in and the sounds turned to sighing. 

“I’m a little cockslut,” I said softly, working the dildo further into me. 

“I’m a little cockslut.” I repeated, feeling it slide along my prostate. 

“I’m a little cockslut!” My eyes were in the back of my head. 

“I’M A LITTLE COCKSLUT!!” I practically shouted, burying the dildo all the way inside me until I was squatting down on the balls. There was no denying how good it felt to be full like that. I quickly clipped the video and sent it to Persephone. 

“Don’t stop now.” She replied. “I can see you leaking in your panties. You’re loving this!!”

She was right, my panties were soaked with precum. 

I bounced, swirled, grinded my hips back and forth. 

“How many guys did you sext with?”

I wanted to reduce the number, but I was too horny to deny it. 

“Seven” I managed to reply while still keeping rhythm. 

“Seven?! That’s more than I assigned you the other day!”

She was right. What felt like such a chore before quickly became something I craved, like a lot of things she was making me do…

The dildo felt so good. I was fully relaxed now, bouncing and taking that dick like the best of them. 

“How did it make you feel? Being a little whore for men and making them cum?”

“Like a slut, Goddess.”

“You fucking LOVED it, didn’t you?”

I did, and I told her so. 

“Show me how much you love that dick.”

I set the camera up again, putting it in selfie mode so I could see myself bounce on the cock. I needed to shave my legs, I needed to work out more, get in better shape to get a better body so I could attract more—

Oh my GOD! It felt so good. When I leaned back it hit my spot perfectly. I crab-crawled my arms backwards, putting all my weight on my hands so I could focus on gyrating my hips. 

I pulled the front of my panties to the side. I wanted her to see how hard I was. How much it made my dick swell to have something pumping in and out of my asshole. I was gonna be her little buttslut. Her little whore to pimp out like she always told me. My mind was swimming, my body was clenching, waves coursed through my legs and up to my pelvis, an immense rush came from inside my rectum and then—

The first shot caught me off guard. A huge spurt of semen flew straight up in the air. Another one went forward, spraying the floor and pretty much everything else around the room as my bouncing cock spewed like an unmanned firehose. 

It took several seconds for me to register what happened, to come off the high I just experienced. To snap back to reality, to realize this even was reality. I was still gasping for breath when I slowly slid the cock out. I sat there for a second, contemplating what just took place. 

I just had a sissygasm. 

I’d heard of it before, but I never thought it was actually possible other than by extremely practiced sissies. Professionals. Ones that knew what they were doing because they’d done it so much and so heavily enjoyed the feeling of co—

I grabbed my phone, swiping away a glob of cum that must have landed on the screen. I contemplated not sending the video to Persephone, but I had to see what she said. 

Her first several messages were a series of laughing emojiis. She even sent me an audio file of her cackling like an amused hyena. If I could have seen her face, it probably had tears of laughter leaking down the sides. 

“I knew you’d get there one day, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon!!”

I let her have her fun. Berating and humiliating and teasing me for proving what a “cockslut” I am. I don’t think there was anything I could do to deny it at that point. 

“Clean up your mess.” She finally said. 

I spent the next several minutes lapping up the many, many puddles of cum littered around the room. The thick globs refused to come up just from me tonguing it like a dog, so I had to press my lips around them and slurp it up like a dog. 

“You’re not done.” She said after I sent her the video of me gargling and swallowing some. 

I looked around for a puddle I’d missed, how had she seen something that I couldn’t?

“I’m not sure where, Goddess…?”

Was it my panties? They *were* quite wet, did she mean my panties? But she soon clarified:

“The dildo 😈” 

My stomach churned as I looked back at the rubber dick I’d just violated my ass with. “Oh Goddess…please no…”

This wasn’t me faking some sort of trepidation in order for her to have another chance to belittle me, this was genuine disgust. 

“I know it’s gross, honey. But if i’m gonna whore you out you’re going to have to get used to going ass to mouth. There are some very callous men out there…”

“Please…please don’t make me 🥺”

“I’m sorry, sissy, it has to be done. Let this be a lesson for you to keep yourself clean at all times. You need to be doing regular enemas. You never know who’s gonna stop and bend your bimbo ass over! Now get to cleaning. And don’t try to wipe it down first either, I can see the glistens of lube.”

Damn, that was my backup plan. There was no getting out of it. Well…there was. I could just stop talking to her altogether. Draw the line. Quit right here and now. But was I really going to let a dirty dildo ruin what we have? I’d probably never get this opportunity again. (Not to clean my ass juices off a fake dick—but have a powerful woman tell me what to do.)

I leaned in close, turning up my nose, trying to block out the faint, pungent smell. The fake black dick at least hid any damning streaks I may not have had the stomach to see. 

After tapping record on my phone, I tentatively opened my mouth and stuck my tongue to the tip, cringing at the taste that was probably more lube than anything else. I made a mental note to get the flavored stuff if this was going to be a regular occurance. 

A regular occurance? What was happening to me?? I went from wanting to be dominated by a stranger, to wearing panties, dirty talking creepy men, shoving dicks in my holes, and then shoving those dirty dicks back into my mouth. I never imagined wanting to be dominated would lead to me doing such depraved things. But here I was, slurping the lube off of a dick I just used to make myself cum without even touching my own dick. 

“I think you missed a spot…” Persephone said, “go deeper.”

I wonder if she enjoys this. Like genuinely enjoys watching guys in panties gag and sputter on a dirty dildos. Then again, I can think of several females I screwed over in the past that would probably pay good money for this very video. 

“Now the balls…”

If it was able to sparkle, it would have by the time I was done with it. My mouth was full of all sorts of conflicting flavors like cum, lube, and god knows what else. 

“Smack your face with it a few times, just for giggles!”

Oh how far I’d fallen. If only I had known at the time that this was only the very beginning. 

“Did you have fun?” She asked after it was all said and done. 

“Yes Goddess,” I said, even without being horny anymore, I found myself being truthful. 

“You like being my little slut?”

“YES Goddess!”

“Good. Because I have another assignment for you…”

~~To Be Continued~~

[aurora-ze-aquarius]

Unfinished Fic: "Sometimes, a bit of rain is all you need"

(Jackson Storm centered fic)

Written sometime in December 2022.

--

I was never able to finish this story, mainly because I couldn't come up with a proper ending.

This story takes place in an au where magic exists, also the cars are humans too. I never got to flesh it out properly. Maybe next time.

In this au, some people are born with magic, Jackson has the ability to manipulate the weather through his emotions. Basically Peppa from Encanto. I was inspired by greendreamer's fantasy cars/ttte au.

Inspired by a oneshot on ao3 where Jackson had weather magic. Unfortunately, I don't remember what it was called :(

Oh yeah, his real name is supposed to be Jackson Ian Rivera (🇺🇸🇵🇭)

⚠️TW/CW⚠️: Implied child neglect, emotional ab*se, panic attacks.

--

'Put your cloud away'

Is a phrase he's been told more times that he could count. 

The Rivera family is not unfamiliar to weather magic. It's been said that they're a family that has practiced this sort of arcana for generations. They are said to be able to summon winds and clouds, to make it rain at will. A Stormbringer is said to be able to control an average area of about 30 meters in diameter surrounding them. The more powerful mages can control the winds up to a mile away. The more refined the user is in their magic, the stronger and more controlled it is. 

They are a proud family, not to mention rich and wealthy. Proud to display their powerful and unique arcana. Majestic eyes of the storms. Something Jackson is not. 

Arcana. How he despises it. The magic has brought nothing but misery and pain in his life. 

Unlike most of his family members, Jackson was born with a curse. A curse in which his arcana is deeply intertwined with his emotions. Arcana in its very nature, is heavily intertwined with one's thoughts and emotions. Losing control of how one feels means losing control of one's connections with their magic. But Jackson's case is different. 

Whenever he's happy, skies are clear, as the breezes are light. Whenever he's not, rain begins to pour, as the thunder claps loudly. Not to mention, how unusually powerful his arcana is compared to most of his family members.

'Put your cloud away' they'd say. They would tell the young child that whenever he would misbehave in their eyes. Whenever tears swelled up in the corners of his retinas as small raindrops began to fall, dampening his once neatened clothes and hair. 

'Put your cloud away' they'd say- whenever the boy would feel frustrated, perhaps even angry, and would throw tantrums. Whenever lightning flashed, when he felt like they didn't understand him, why even felt that way in the first place. 

'Put your cloud away' they'd say- when dark skies and strong winds would cover almost every square inch of their large mansion.  When the boy tried… he tried so hard, yet failed and 'couldn't keep his emotions in check' according to them. 

It wasn't his fault though… was it..?

There's a reason why Jackson failed to connect to other people. They were either deemed not good enough to be his friends, or they would make fun of him and his interests. His family was of no help to those issues.

Honestly? He found it hilarious how shocked that so-called family was when he decided to finally cut them out of his life once IGNTR found him.

Despite having them out of his life, he could never rid himself of their, and subsequently, his views on his arcana. It's part of him, and he hates it. No matter what he did, it was always there. Continuously taunting him, whilst being just out of reach.

Despite them being gone, he knows better than to have a cloud constantly follow him whenever he's in a bad mood. 

--

Jackson hopped out of the car, panting as sweat beads dripped from his forehead. He turned towards the large monitor and growled, unsatisfied with his results.

" '214 mph'. You're doing good." Ray said, crossing his arms.

Jackson scoffed, wiping his sweat with an arm. "Not good enough…" Thunder crackled, as faint drips of water fell down from above him. 

Ray took note of this and sighed. He patted Jackson's shoulder and said, "You did good today, Storm. Take it easy." 

Jackson glared at him, but immediately tore his gaze to the small cloud that loomed above him. He gritted his teeth, wanting to curse it out but instead heaved a sigh, closing his eyes. 

"Put your cloud away… Put your cloud away…" He whispered to himself, taking deep breaths. He repeated this process until the rain stopped, the thunder ceased and the cloud disappeared. 

He opened his eyes. He turned away from the simulator and began to leave the room. "I can do better… I will do better…"

"Your powers are great, but far too unstable… Keep your cloud away… 

You could kill someone with that lightning bolt."

--

Jackson stared at the large monitor that stood tall above the stadium. His breath hitched, eyes widened in shock. 

"I… I…" 

It wasn't his name that took first place. But instead, McQueen and his little costume girl stole the win from him. Little shit appeared out of nowhere and stole the win for herself. 

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. He felt a vein almost pop. 

"FUCK." He screamed. He nearly got into a tangent when the sound of thunder crackling grabbed his attention. A mass of large clouds seemed to have manifested out of nowhere and had covered the stadium, blocking out the starlight from reaching the people. 

"What's this Darrel? It seems like rain clouds have appeared out of nowhere."

"It looks to me like someone's arcana is going haywire! Hopefully things will calm down before they get crazy. And it's already been a pretty crazy day!"

Jackson swallowed a gulp. 'Shit. Not now—!' 

Turning his car on he quickly made his way to where his trailer was. The paparazzi wanted his attention, but thankfully security kept them out of his way, lest someone gets injured due to getting in the way of his car. He quickly drove into the trailer and shut the door, not wanting to face the public. Not wanting to face Ray, McQueen, the other racers, and especially not that costume girl. 

He was panting, breaths were heavy and uneven as the reality set in. He lost. He lost to a random street racer. He lost his cool and almost killed someone, again. He lost his calm and now his storm—

He stiffens. That cloud. It shrouded the whole area. It was massive.

Jackson slowly backed into a corner, hugging himself. His back slid against the wall as he began chanting the words.

"Put your cloud away… put your cloud away… put your cloud away… put it away… just fucking put it away…"

He didn't know how long it took for the dark clouds to disappear; he fell asleep on the floor. But they did disappear just moments before he closed his eyes. Luckily before any raindrops fell and spoiled the day for the racing fans.

--

Jackson was pacing back and forth, still chanting about how his cloud needs to 'go away'. He just wrapped up another training session, and had stormed off to IGNTR's back gardens when he failed to break through 214 mps. 

He gripped his hair, yelling out in frustration. His clothes were soaked, not only from the sweat from training. The rain cloud above him thundered, flashing a bit of lightning once in a while. Jackson tried to swat it away, despite his futile efforts. 

"GO AWAY. DAMMIT." 

Ray watched him from a window heaving a sigh. He was worried. Jackson's storms seemed to be getting worse each time he lost a race, whether it was against Cruz or a different racer. He knew Jackson was a perfectionist at heart, and has tried multiple times to get him to understand that it's not just about winning, but each time, his pleas would fall on deaf ears. 

He knows the boy has it in him to change. But Jackson's mind is clouded in poor judgement, and it pains him to see him this way. That's not even mentioning Jackson's terrible coping mechanisms.

Ray sighed, crossing his arms. "There's no need to force your cloud away…" He mumbled. "There's nothing wrong with a bit of rain every once in a while…" He watched as Jackson seemed to have given up, and just seemed to be standing there, underneath the ever growing storm. 

"I just hope you can realize that one day…"

---

Jackson didn't know how he was dragged into this situation. He was at a party. A party to celebrate the success of the latest race. He won the race (thankfully) of course, but he absolutely despised going to events like these. 

Too many people here. Possibly drunkards just partying it up with A-list celebrities and fellow racers. 

Ray somehow managed to convince him to go. Says he "needs to make peace with the other racers'' or that "he has to try to be nicer to them." He doesn't understand it at all. It's been this way for years. Jackson's already used to it. But nonetheless, he managed to reluctantly drag his ass here. 

It took less than five minutes of just standing around in the middle of the room for Jackson to immediately say 'fuck it' and make his way onto the rooftop of the building, away from where everyone else is at. 

He sighed, elbows propped up against the concrete railings. Ray would be disappointed, but he could just lie and say nobody wanted to talk to him. Well technically, it wouldn't be lying when that's exactly what happened. Nobody knew he was here, and thus nobody could talk to him.

"Hello?" 

Until someone else made their way to the rooftop as well. 

Jackson sharply inhaled, the winds howled, the cold breezes blowing past his face. He knew who that voice belonged to. 

"Brr. Really chilly here, huh?" She joked, rubbing her arms as a means to keep warm. Jackson attempted to ignore her, staring off into the distance, a can of cranberry flavored Sprite in his hand. 

"Hey um. Would you mind if I stayed here for a bit?" She asked, walking up right next to him. Well, she lingered just away from him, but just close enough where she could talk to him. 

Jackson groaned, lightly crushing the half empty can in his hands. "What do you want, Ramirez?"   

[Unfinished Ending]

[swaps55]

WIP Wednesday

From Mezzo

~

“I don’t know how Cerberus…acquired you,” Karin admits. “But it wasn’t through the Alliance. I am afraid your survival will come as…quite a surprise to many.”

“Acquiring me doesn’t give them the rights to fuck with my implant. Or anything else.” Shepard hesitates, gripping the edge of the biobed. Then he sighs in frustration. “It’s not just the implant. My mass isn’t right.”

“What do you mean?”

“Biotics get really good at understanding the mass of objects,” he explains. “Especially our own mass. It’s…kind of like spatial awareness. Knowing where your limbs are even if you aren't using them. On Freedom’s Progress, I wasn’t just fighting the new implant. I was fighting me. My mass is wrong.”

Synthetic skin fibers. Skeletal-reinforcing bone weave. Muscle-perforating microfibers. Biomeimetic eyes with nanowire retinas. Biosynthetically fused spinal cord.

 Yes. I’ll bet your mass has changed. She chews a lip. “Let me weigh you.” It takes her a moment to find a scale. Cerberus may be thorough when it comes to stocking a medbay, but their organizational skills leave quite a bit to be desired.

“Heavens,” she murmurs, when she compares the number displayed on the scale with what’s in her records. “You’re right. And I’ll bet the bone weave is the biggest culprit. The lattice significantly densified your skeleton. I’ll run a more detailed analysis.”

“Bone weave?”

“Similar procedures exist for a variety of medical treatments. But Lazarus was far more extensive than anything I’ve ever seen.”  

He rubs his arms protectively. “Who let them do this? How could they do this without Anderson? Did they just…kidnap me? Have I been a prisoner for two years? They could just crack my skull open and fuck with my bones on a whim?”   

Karin places a hand on his arm, heart aching. This is something she’s thought about since Cerberus first showed her the proof of life. And the answer won’t offer comfort.  

“There is still a mountain of data I need to go through. What I can tell you so far is that the procedures they performed are unprecedented in human medicine, because the risk to the patient would be too extreme. But with Lazarus there was no living patient. It worked precisely because there wasn’t. The biosynthetic fusion, the replacement of your implant, posed no risk to the patient, to you, because death had already occurred.”

He pulls away from her hand. The laugh that slips out of his throat isn’t a pleasant one. “So I’m here because Cerberus desecrated a corpse.”

[thisisallthehattersfault]

Wei Ying smiles like the sun.

When they were younger, Lan Wangji had felt scorched by it. It had seared into his bones and behind his retinas, ivory-bright and burning, and so, for fear of what would become of him if he looked too long, he had turned away.

Now the clouds have covered the sun, and it shines through so rarely that every glimpse of it is a treasure beyond reason or compare, and so -- even though he knows he should not -- Lan Wangji creeps forward on silent footsteps, peering a little closer, desperate in a wordless, formless, twisting way for even a glimpse, even a glimmer, even a tiny flash of that smile.

The bunny burrows deeper into Wei Ying's robes, and he grins, and it is like Lan Wangji is standing in the sun again after so many weeks of rain.

Then the wind shifts. Lan Wangji's robes, his ribbon, his hair suddenly lift and carry out far enough to catch the corner of Wei Ying's eye, and the clouds return so quickly Lan Wangji feels dizzy with it, feels sick. Wei Ying's back goes perfectly straight, and his face falls into an expression of cold neutrality. Lan Wangji has to clench his jaw to choke back a cry of despair.

His husband turns to face him without actually looking at him. Wei Ying solutes him with formality and grace. Greets him with "Hanguang-Jun."

The sun is gone again.

The sun is gone, and there is nothing Lan Wangji can do to bring it back -- not when he is the cloud that covers it. He should have turned away as soon as he saw Wei Ying in the field. He should not have intruded on this private moment of happiness, not when Wei Ying seems to experience happiness so rarely, now.

Lan Wangji returns the bow, greets his husband. Tells him "I am being sent on a night-hunt. I will depart this evening, and estimate it will take me three days to return."

Wei Ying does not ask to come along. His eyes do not light up in curiosity, he does not bounce on his knees and pester Lan Wangji for information about where he is going or what he is hunting. All Wei Ying does is incline his head and say "Alright."

Come with me, Lan Wangji wants to say, but he knows he hasn't the right. Wei Ying is likely relieved to have Lan Wangji out of his hair for a few days. Maybe, without Lan Wangji there to cast a shadow over him, Wei Ying will allow himself to smile.

I didn't mean to take it from you. I didn't know I could. I didn't realize how much power I had, how much I was hurting you. I would do anything to make you happy here. I wish I could figure out how.

Lan Wangji accepts the dismissal for what it is. He turns, and leaves, and hopes his husband will breathe easier with him gone. Maybe he should start taking more night hunts.

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

He doesn't know how long Lan Zhan has been standing there, but it's definitely been long enough to see Wei Wuxian rolling around in the dirt with the rabbits like an idiot. He tries to correct his posture, schools his face. Maintain a proper seat. Do not smile for no reason. Excessive displays of emotion are prohibited. Act with decorum.

It isn't enough. By the time he has himself presentable, Lan Zhan is visibly grinding his teeth. Even from here, Wei Wuxian can see the way his jaw flexes when he clenches it. He's expecting to be scolded -- pets aren't allowed in Cloud Recesses, and this clearing technically isn't in the bounds of Cloud Recesses but no Lan has ever cared about technicality when it came to obeying their rules. (Or punishing people for not obeying their rules.)

Still, it isn't Lan Zhan's fault that Wei Wuxian is exactly as much of a terrible husband as Madam Yu always told him he would be, so he salutes exactly as is proper between married spouses and calls Lan Zhan by his title, as respectfully as he can.

Lan Zhan bows back, and doesn't immediately drag Wei Wuxian off to be punished. Huh.

Maybe... maybe he appreciates the attempt?

Wei Wuxian is trying. He's trying so fucking hard. Does Lan Zhan see that? Does he -- does that mean anything to him? Does it matter to him that Wei Wuxian is trying as hard as he can, even though he keeps fucking up?

"I am being sent on a night-hunt. I will depart this evening, and estimate it will take me three days to return."

Ah. He's just in a hurry, then. That makes more sense.

Wei Wuxian nods. Says "Alright," to show he understands. Lan Zhan will probably pass his punishment on to someone else, then, or he'll decide what to do about Wei Wuxian when he gets back.

The stupid, childish part of Wei Wuxian that refuses to fucking learn wants to say be safe or come back to me. Wants to take Lan Zhan's hand in his and kiss the backs of his knuckles as a goodbye. Wants to help him pack, and see him off at the gates. Wei Wuxian has accepted that he'll never step foot outside the Cloud Recesses again, so going with Lan Zhan isn't an option for him, but at least a proper goodbye, at least something --

He crushes that stupid, childish part of himself as ruthlessly as he can. He has bothered Lan Zhan more than enough. The poor man is literally trapped with him now, and Wei Wuxian still can't be a decent husband for him. Lan Zhan deserves a few days to himself.

He knots his hands in the skirt of his robes, and bites his tongue hard enough to hurt, and doesn't move, and doesn't speak, and doesn't lift his eyes from the fluffy back of the little white rabbit until his husband's footsteps have vanished down the path, and Wei Wuxian is alone again.

[maltmealo]

Chapter 1: Rhythm of the night

Was blood really that bad? Now that you were laying in the middle of your own blood, it wasn't so bad. Well yeah, it was warm, and sticky, and your bones hurt, but you weren't cold even though it was autumn. Where was the driver? Gone. Probably. No cameras no evidence. But whatever, it was getting colder and you could hear a voice calling for you.

Oh well, maybe in the next life.

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

The buzzing of luminescent lights was welcome in the library silence. god, I wish brought your phone, I’m so stupid. I don't know why I listened to your friends, they're stupid too, you think, biting your lip. The blue light from your computer burned into your retina, even closing your eyes felt like sandpaper. Big bold letters shone on the screen, "HOW LATIN HAS BRANCHED INTO 30 DIFFERENT LANGUAGES" the blinking black line standing proudly behind it. this felt like a big fuck you from the universe, the essay is due in two days and we have a draft title, great.

"You keep looking at the screen like that and the computer might start crying." you jumped, you almost forgot that Meryl was still here. "your bad, didn't mean to spook you. You've just been staring at that computer for so long, I thought you might have died."

"Meryl, I forgot you were here." you pause before you sigh, "This essay does not want to be written." you smack your computer screen in mock anger, it returns the favor by displaying your favorite words "LOW BATTERY, PLEASE CHARGE"

Deep laughing echoed through the empty library, Meryl shut your computer and opened your bag. Meryl, the older brother you never had, part-time librarian, full-time worrier. Before you knew it your chair had slid out from under the table and your bag was dropped in your lap.

"Sorry kid, but you'll have to go home, I've let you stay for far longer than you should of and you didn't even get any progress." you turned to look at the man, a scar ripped across his skin creating a dark ravine in it, he never told you how he got it, just said it was an accident. "You want me to check you out a book before you go?"

You nodded and stood up, picking up the books that lay scattered across the table. trailing after the man as lead weaved in between tables towards the front desk, you set the books down and braced yourself against the desk. The sharp knives of stress already digging into your head, you grit your teeth and slowly lower yourself until your forehead is touching the cool wood. You hear 4 quick beeps, the sign that Meryl has checked out the books. A new sound, the rattling of pills in a bottle being set down by me. You look up and glance over at Meryl.

"Are you allowed to bring that to work with you?" you ask, picking up the bottle of aspirin. He shrugged and pulled out a bottle of water, sliding it over to me.

"Probably not, but also, you look like hell," he said, giving you a once-over. "Plus, you shouldn't be driving home when you're so distracted that you can't even realize that I took your backpack." he lifted up the old dirty backpack and shook it with a smile. your lips drew into a thin line, setting down the bottle and pushing it away from yourself.

"I didn't drive here, I walked, and I don't need your help." you say more weakly than you intended, inwardly cringing at how tired you sound, taking his bag from his hands and swinging over your back, "Plus, walking is more healthy for me and the environment."

This time his lips formed a line, then a frown. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pulling out his car keys. "then ill drive you home, you know drunk frat boys are going to be coming home around now."

"No you won't, I can take care of myself," you hissed, biting your tongue when you saw his expression, "My dorm isn't even that far away."

A hurt look came across his face, he looked away and sighed, "At least wait for me to close up. It's 3 am, and I don't want you walking home alone."

You shake your head and walked towards the doors, "Sorry Meri, I'm a grown adult, and I can take care of myself."

"Don't get hit by a car!" he shouted as you waved and walked out, the crisp cold air hitting you. you shuddered and inwardly cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket, you rubbed your hands over your shoulders and began the process of walking home. The yellow lights that guarded the streets flickered, weird. You felt a chill run up your spine, and bile rising in your throat, someone was watching you. You almost gag trying to force it back down your throat, you speed up.

"Just paranoia, the paranoia of being stalked at three am," you whisper to yourself, your mind racing with the thoughts of someone trailing behind you, holding out a knife, ready to strike, footsteps speeding up. your breath stopped, the footsteps were real, so real in fact you could feel the vibrations in the ground as they got closer. Without a second thought, you ran, ignoring the street you were supposed to turn onto. you don't want that creep to know where you live, the street lamps flickered again, this time turning completely off. This should be annoying if you weren’t being chased by a potential serial killer. Acid rose into the back of your throat as you felt the sidewalk dip, you were in the street now. The footsteps stopped, and you kept running.

Laughing, that bastard was laughing at you. Anger and fear kept you going until you tripped trying to get back on the sidewalk. The lights flicked back on, showing the now bloody pavement your hands were on. you whipped your head back, and there he was, standing right above you. How'd he get to you so fast? you screamed as loud as you could, kicking his knees out and getting on your feet, only to be dragged back down by large hands on your ankles. your head hit the pavement hard, only increasing the stress migraine you already had. Adrenaline was probably the only reason you could stay awake. Kicking and screaming you were dragged to your feet and brought back into the street, being held by your wrists. you could see the bastard now, another scream rose in your throat, a blonde man in his 30s, covered in scratches and blood. But his eye... his eye was bright fucking red, like some demon, emphasis on eye, he only had one eye, the other a black void.

"Get off me!" you screamed, he almost looked hurt. His hands wrapped around your wrists, forcing them together. you could feel your hands turning blue from how hard he was gripping them. You took a small breath before letting out the most blood-curdling scream you could muster. Fighting and kicking to get him off you, the blood from your hands making his grip somewhat slippery. Fear is what got us here, if you fight you can survive, repeating the mantra in your head. Without thinking you kicked his knees in, thank god for a random factopedia. A sickening crack echoed through the streets, he grunted and doubled over, he was still holding your wrist tight.

He laughed again, then he stood up. He fucking stood back up after you broke his knee. A smile replaced the blank look on his face, his face contorting into a macabre version of a skeletons smile. you screamed again trying to kick out his other knee, trying to do any trick to get someone's attention, you screamed fire, help, robbery, 'he's trying to kill me', nobody, nobody was coming to help me, why? This was a fucking residential street why was no one helping?

He dragged you both out into the middle of the street holding us there until the lights flickered back off. His eye was fucking glowing, your panicked babble and screams for help quickly cut off as you felt him being pulled away from you, The lights came back on. Meryl. Oh your fucking god it was Meryl beating the shit out of the red-eyed man. you could only watch as he dragged the red-eyed man to the edge of the street and started pummeling him. you could barely make out anything he was saying over the ringing in your ears and the blaring horn of a truck, wait what?

You barely had time to turn and see the giant semi-truck come barling down the street, when you turned back to Meryl he and the red-eyed man were staring at you. The unknown man seemed angry and Meryl looked scared, he reached out to you as you tried to jump out of the way.

Screeching tires did nothing to stop the impact, cracking bones and the blood rushing to your head were all you could hear. the hard pavement came next, and you were surprised you weren’t run over, the truck seemed to just push you to the side. you can't breathe, your own blood is drowning you. desperate gasps turned to pathetic gurgles. you could feel the warm blood starting a puddle around your body, the cold air only making the pain so much worse. you could hear Meryl shouting, you couldn't understand what he was shouting, footsteps were getting closer, maybe it was Meryl, No, it wasn't, it was the man, leering down at me. He looked sad, he reached down at you, you screamed as best you could pain shooting up your stomach and into your throat.

More pathetic gurgles and tears rose in your eyes as your senses returned to you. Something was set down beside you, you couldn't move, your broken bones made that impossible but out of the corner of your eye, was the raggedy fabric of your bag. between pathetic whimpers of pain and the dark spots littering your vision, you didn't notice the man leave. you were alone, nobody was there, did Meryl leave too? No, he wouldn't leave you, that bastard must have done something to him. The pain was steadily fading to couple your vision. You started to think, the man who chased you, the truck, where was the truck?

Was blood really that bad? Now that you were laying in the middle of your own blood, it wasn't so bad. Well yeah, it was warm, and sticky, and your bones hurt, but you weren't cold even though it was autumn. Where was the driver? Gone. Probably. No cameras no evidence. But whatever, it was getting colder and you could hear a voice calling for you.

Oh well, maybe in the next life.

[astra-galaxie]

🏳️‍🌈👻🎶💝💔👗🔪🍫💄😺😬🖕and 😶 for Diego, please! (This man's image has burned itself into my retinas, and I sincerely apologize)

I think Diego's image is burned into many people's retinas! Mine included!

I'm going to use some of this prompt list to focus on Diego from my series, so don't be surprised if you see some lore mentioned in it!😉

🏳️‍🌈 A sexuality headcanon

I headcanon Diego is bisexual, borderline pansexual. This man is attracted to pretty people, whether men or women. Of course, he's not completely shallow; he looks for good things in a partner besides just their appearance, but he'll never deny that the beautiful ones catch his eyes more easily…

👻 A headcanon about what scares them

Diego is scared of drowning. He was once knocked overboard while sailing, and while he obviously didn’t drown, he’s terrified of experiencing that again. He knows how to swim, but he’s still scared of getting into deeper water than waist height.

🎶 A headcanon about music

Diego is a big music fan, especially if he can dance to it. He loves classical music but also enjoys some more untraditional genres too. Of course, his favourite singer will always be Argo, but he can also appreciate other performers.

💝 A headcanon about their love language

Diego is well-versed in many forms of showing love. While he often displays his affection through flirting, he uses more meaningful and personal ways to show love to his chosen partner. I’ve previously stated that painting someone is one of his biggest displays of love, but Diego also lives for physical affection, specifically cuddles. He loves snuggling with his partner, having his hair played with, or sharing a nap together.

💔 An angsty headcanon

Diego was abused as a child, but not by his parents or other relatives. The person who hurt him has no relation to him beyond being the monster who still haunts him. The scars on his body tell a story of pain and suffering, one he has rarely spoken about to others. Diego hates the permanent marks on his skin and the nightmares he still gets because of his abuser, which is why he crafted a mask of confidence to hide his pain. He doesn’t let anyone see the real him except for a select few.

👗 A headcanon about their clothes

Diego makes most of his clothes. He occasionally buys them but prefers making them by hand to tailor them to his style and fit. Many have told him he should pursue a career in fashion design, but Diego is happy with the job he has chosen.

🔪 A headcanon relating to fighting/violence

While he calls himself a gentleman thief, don’t let the good looks fool you; Diego’s bite is far worse than his bark. He could tear an enemy to shreds if he wanted to and is never unarmed. His weapons might not be as inconspicuous as Argo’s daggers are, but if you happen to feel something poking you in the back, I can assure you, it's not Deigo being happy to see you. It's a blade with your name and soon to be your blood on it.

🍫 A headcanon about food

Churros are one of Diego’s favourite desserts. His mother taught him how to make them, and when he misses Madrid and his family, he’ll make some for himself. He loves having them with a side of melted chocolate, but he can’t eat too much, or he starts feeling sick. But tasting the sweet, fried treat is always worth feeling stuffed and nauseous later.

💄 An appearance headcanon

Diego has been called vain more times than he can count, but he can't help if he just wants to look his best. If this man lived in the modern timeline, he would have a multi-step skincare routine! Even so, Diego takes the time to maintain good hygiene, including his body, teeth, and hair. If you ever need advice on what products to use, Diego's your man!

😺 An animal related headcanon

His favourite animal is the wolf, and not just because that's what his surname means. Wolves are intelligent, loyal, caring, and protective, all characteristics he strives to have. He has images of wolves designed on many of his belongings, like his pocket watch and cane. Wolves have become his calling card of sorts, and anyone who comes to know him well in his personal or business life associates the animal with him.

😬 A headcanon about the worst thing they’ve done

Stealing Canto del Mare’s prized possession, a giant pearl shaped like a conch shell. Its interior is lined with pure aquamarine, and while no one can explain how it was formed, the islanders treasure the shell deeply. To them, it is priceless, and no matter how much money someone could offer them, they would never part with it. The shell was safe on Canto del Mare until it was stolen by the outsider they welcomed to their island: Diego.

The night Diego stole the shell was one of the worst nights of his life. He hated himself for betraying Argo and the islanders’ trust. They had taken him in when he had nothing and never asked for anything in return. But in the end, he took the most important thing in their lives to save the one he loved. While he knows he made the best choice he could given the situation, Diego has hated himself for it every day since.

🖕 A headcanon relating to anger

If you piss him off, Diego isn't afraid to get loud and furious. He can curse you out in Spanish and English with words that would make even a sailor blush. He's not scared to stand up for himself or those he cares about, but he tries not to let his anger get the best of him.

😶 A random headcanon!

He has a younger cousin who is more like a little sister to him. They grew up together, and she loved following him around and trying to mimic him. She always wanted to play with him and just be around him in general. Diego used to find it annoying at times but looking back, he’s glad he got to spend so much time with her as he hasn’t seen her since he left Spain.

I love having an excuse to ramble about one of my favourite CC characters! Thank you for the request, and I hope you enjoyed the headcanons!

[sugarlywhispers]

A/N: well, hello there. Today, I don't bring a bts smut fic I'm finishing other two tho👀, but I found this cute Haikyuu Nishinoya angst/comfort I wrote for a request a while ago and I kinda love it, so here it is~♡

Warnings: angst/comfort, famouslibero!Nishinoya, I think some swearing words(?, honestly, I just need this Nishinoya in my life😩

Run. That's all you could think of doing. Run away from one of your worst nightmares. That's what everybody would do, right? Run as fast as they can, sometimes peaking back to see if the nightmare was still there, chasing them. And it was. Seeing that would make anyone run faster, right?

Running was the best solution, the best escape your mind could come up with to avoid the pain; yet your body wouldn't cooperate. It wouldn't do what your mind was screaming in an order at it to do. Your body was frozen in its place, watching the nightmare right there, in front of you, displaying everything that was happening in slow motion, like a torture to your heart.

Nishinoya Yuu, the one you thought, the one you felt was the love of your life, was standing a few feets away from you… with another girl that it was not you, his girlfriend, in between his arms. Kissing her, one of his hands caressing her cheek, while the other hugging her lower back.

He, the love of your life, the owner of your heart, was kissing another girl.

He opened his eyes, his lips still concentrated in their actions, and looked straight at you. And smiled.

The beats of your heart were deafening you, nothing around seemed to matter anymore. The oppression on your chest made you want to scream the pain away; the tears that you could feel fighting against your eyes for freedom were clouding your sight, but you could still see that smile.

You understood that smile. He was mocking you. He was proving that what you always had thought, was true.

You could almost hear his own voice, as clear as the water, “You see? You mean nothing to me. You never meant anything to me…”

“...Y/N?”

“She is better than you, in every aspect. Why would I stay with you? Why would I wait for you?”

“...Y/N, wake up, love!”

“You really are nothing to me...”

“Y/N!”

You felt the little shake some hands were doing to your shoulders as the strong lights blinded your eyesight when you opened your eyes. Those hands immediately cupped your cheeks in a tender way, thumbs cleaning gently the path your tears had made over them.

“Love, it’s okay, it was just a nightmare. I’m here…” Noya whispered, his voice sounding like he had just been awakened, yet so loving and caring. Even his still sleepy eyes looked lovingly at you, and worried.

Your heart was beating fast on your chest, the oppression you had felt still present on your upper body, and the image you saw of him with that girl still printed to your retinas, his words repeating themself over and over in your head.

You realized there that you were also still crying, that’s why he looked so worried. But you couldn’t stop, neither the images nor your feeling of despair.

“Hey, baby, don’t cry,” his arms surrounded you, hugging and holding you as if you were the most delicate crystal and he was afraid of breaking you, but at the same time, as all he wanted to do was protect you.

You lost track of time, laying in his arms until you were no longer crying, your heart coming back to its normal beating under the soft humming he had been doing to calm you. His voice always calmed you.

When you looked up at him, his charming and soft smile he had reserved only for you made the little butterflies on your stomach flutter around like crazy, “hi, there, pumpkin.”

You smiled shyly before hiding your face in the crook of his neck, arms around his torso hugging him tight, to which he corresponded with the same intensity.

“Want to talk about it?” You shook your head, not really wanting to even remember it, “I heard that sometimes it helps to talk about your nightmares. For how you were crying, I can bet it was a bad one, and you’re still shaking, love,” you sighed. “Come on, baby, talk to me. I just wanna help…”

It wasn’t the first time you had this same nightmare, and sadly, they always happened after one of his games. Nishinoya was one, if not the best libero Japan ever had, the Guardian Deity in any team he played at. He was agile, very skilled in his position, well built and handsome. He even displayed a special, attractive and seductive aura each time he saved a ball and smiled cockily at the opposite team, that made everyone, it didn’t matter the gender, fall for him.

Noya had his own group of fans that followed him to every match to cheer for him. In that group, was that girl. You have seen her several times. She was pretty and cute. During matches, she cheered for him louder than anyone, including you. But apparently she was a very shy person outside those events, because she had never tried to make a move to even ask for Noya’s autograph like the rest of his fans.

Until last night.

You saw it from afar, how she finally built up the courage to finally ask for his autograph, to which he kindly gave her, not really recognizing her. Yet, he did comment on how cute her little notebook was –of course, you didn’t know that the main reason he pointed that out, was because it reminded him of you. She thanked him, and apparently she felt more confident and bold to his little talk, so in a blink she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, before turning and running away, hugging her notebook to her chest.

She ran right at your direction; you could see her happy smile glowing in her face, his rosy cheeks making her look even cuter. Your heart fell to the floor at that sight when you heard Noya’s embarrassed laugh in the distance. He hadn’t seen you yet, but you did him, and his blushing cheeks.

It felt like everything was falling apart. Why? Because you had done exactly the same thing before he reached out to you the next day and invited you on a date two years ago.

You sighed again against his neck, before moving to lay next to him, away from his comforting arms. He let you go a little reluctantly, he loved having you in his arms all the time. But he gave you the space you clearly needed; his attention still was focused entirely on you.

“Do you…” you cleared your throat, feeling it close over the overwhelming feelings of rejection your head was making you believe, “D-do you still… love me?” It ended in an almost soundless whisper, but he could hear that loud and clear as if you had yelled it.

He opened his eyes wide and worried, and moved faster than you had ever seen him, his libero skills kicking in, until he was back as close to you as he could, propping himself up with his forearm over the bed, next to your head, so his weight didn’t crush you.

“What, in the name of Ryu, is that stupid question for?”

You really didn’t want to laugh in a moment as serious as that one, but Noya always had such a funny way to express himself, you just couldn’t hold it. “What does Ryu have to do with it?”

“Don’t change the topic, missy… And stop laughing! I’m being serious here,” he whined, not a single line of amusement on his face.

Noya gave you time to calm, but his eyes were locked on your face, paying attention to every move, every slight emotion you could let out intentionally. He was simply analysing you like if he was on a match. 

You knew that after that question, he would never let the topic drop until you had talked about it through and through and everything had cleared out. That was one of the things you loved the most about him; his blunt and honest personality that let no space for confusion or doubt. He was a straightforward person, he didn’t like insecurity, unsureness or distrust, so he would always say what was on his mind.

He would act the same way in his daily life as in a game. So you were no different in his mind; to him, you were like a ball about to be served from the opponent team, and he had to find the best view, the position to receive you in that full speed you were going to be thrown at him. He had to protect you, to save you, even from yourself.

You took a deep breath, looking up at him again and finding his worried but persistent eyes on you, waiting for you to speak up.

“I… I dreamt about what happened last night,” you said in a murmur, confusion now spreading over his features.

“And… what happened last night?”

You sighed, this time kind of annoyed. He couldn’t not remember. “The girl, Noya… The girl that kissed your cheek,” you spat, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away your eyes from his perplexed and completely taken aback expression.

It took him several minutes to comprehend what you were saying, “Oh… OH.” He hummed, analysing the situation in his mind, before smiling cockily and asking, “Are you jealous, babe?”

The punch your tiny fist gave him on the chest made him go back to lay next to you on the bed, laughing at how even though you were smaller than him, you held a strength it always surprised him.

“You’re an idiot,” his barking laugh resounded in the whole house, and as always, had a contagious effect on you, so you smiled. Noya has always been the king of lightning any kind of mood up.

After some minutes, he went back to his previous position, laying on his side as close to you as possible, and he looked adoringly at you. “What is really troubling you? Cause I know you; I don’t think a kid daringly kissing the cheek of her idol it’s what has your knickers on a twist…”

You punched him again, but this time not as harshly, “Can you not use that expression?!”

He winked at you, smiling broadly, “You know I can untwist those knickers any time, babe, and if I may add, I’m an expert on yours…”

You covered your blushing face with your hands, trying not to laugh at his stupidly beguiling words and turning away on the opposite side from him. He just laughed at your cuteness.

Noya took advantage of the position and cuddled you back into his arms, your back flushed against his chest, this time his face hiding in the crook of your neck, his warm breath giving you pleasant tingles that spread over your whole body. Being in his arms was one of the best things you had ever had the honour of experience –and he thought the exact same about you.

You two spent a little while like that, just cuddling in silence. He was waiting until you were ready to talk. And if he had to wait hours, days, even months for you, he would.

He loved you that much.

“Jealousy was not the feeling I had,” you finally said; not having his intense focused eyes on you gave you the courage to admit what was making you so upset at last.

“Then, what was it?”

“I… I just… I know I’m not that important in your life, and there’ll always be someone to replace me, and that thought… just losing you… scares me.”

Noya could not believe what his own ears were listening to. If anyone had told him those words came out of your mouth, he would have not believed them; yet there he was, listening to them with his own freaking ears, and he still could not believe it.

“And I’m a Giraffe...” You turned your head to look completely confused at him. “Oh, sorry, I thought we were playing that game in which we say stupid and imposible things as if they were true facts.”

Silence.

“You-...”

Silence.

Really, what could you say to that? How were you supposed to act? Punch him again for being this silly, laugh for being that funny or kiss him for being the best boyfriend you had ever had in your life?

“Y/N, listen to me carefully,” he ordered, pushing you on your back so he could look you right in the face, one of his hands holding your cheek, “I freaking love you. There’s no one I rather be with than with you; there’s no one I rather love than you. I am the one who’s always scared that some tall, good looking guy with a handsome beard like Asahi will come and steal you from my arms, and because he will be that big, he will squash me like a cockroach with his big ass foot.”

Again, how the hell did you respond to that? By this time, people might think you were used to his personality, but the truth was that he would always come up with things that left you speechless.

You watched him, seeing in his face how real and honest he was being with his words. And you smiled, tears clouding your sight again, but this time, an immense feeling of corresponded love filling your complete heart.

Your arms surrounded his neck, pulling him closer to you, connecting your foreheads lovingly, “I love you so much, my cockroach.”

He laughed happily, “Oh, I feel the regret for having said that now…”

“Wait ‘til I tell Ryu about it.”

“You wouldn’t dare…”

You laughed maliciously, to which, after a second that he looked like he had been betrayed by one of his most trusted people, he took revenge by starting a fight of tickles that made your laughs echo through the whole house.

A sound that everyone was used to hearing when you two were around.

[itsuki-minamy]

"K - RETURN OF KINGS" (Novel)

CHAPTER 9: NEKO'S DREAM (Part 4)

* List of Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

"Seems more like foul play, Seri-chan."

"I'll do whatever it takes to get the job done."

Awashima knelt down and touched the staff member's body. She quickly found the PDA on his chest and tossed it at Kusanagi. Kusanagi activated it, used a connector hacking tool to breach the security, and started viewing the data on it.

When he searched the history, he found what he was looking for in one go.

"There is a list of participants in the party. If we take this..."

"We will be able to identify influential people who have been touched by "Jungle"."

Once again, Awashima's gaze returned to the sharpness of a bird of prey. Who is leading the various acts of sabotage that "Scepter 4" is currently suffering in public and the plans to introduce "Jungle" into ministries and agencies? In the end, they are probably just Hisui Nagare's limbs, but if they are raised, their movements will slow down. The disqualification of "Scepter 4" may be stopped.

Seeing Awashima look at the PDA, Kusanagi shrugged and laughed.

"Hey, let's go. If we stay too long..."

At that moment, he heard someone's voice under his feet.

"D4, answer me. The retinal response disappeared. What happened?"

Awashima and Kusanagi saw it at the same time. Communication voices leak from the mask of the lying down staff member. The retina response means that the skin has the function of notifying the user when something goes wrong.

"Come on."

"Yes."

He turned quickly on his heel and opened the door. Almost at the same time, a loud voice echoed from the end of the hall.

"They are there!"

Three clan members with mechanical masks. It is not a number that he cannot win in a direct fight, but it is troublesome to draw a pistol. With a click of his tongue, Kusanagi turned and ran. Awashima did the same.

"I don't care, shoot!"

Along with the incredible words, gunshots and live bullets were fired. Kusanagi lowered his head and rounded the corner, turning around and cursing.

"Are they crazy?! There are some VIPs though!"

"Even if you delete one or two, you should be able to get rid of them…just leave them there!"

"I understand!"

The elevator was about to reach the end of the hall. He pressed the button as if to slam it shut, look back. Almost at the same time the doorbell rang and the elevator doors opened.

From inside, a burly man wearing a mask stretched out his arms.

"Kyaa?!"

"Seri-chan!"

With his log-shaped arm choking Awashima's throat, the giant man drew a gun with his other hand and fired at Kusanagi. A bullet grazed Kusanagi's hair, but he jumped undeterred, daring to jump into the narrow elevator shaft.

"No!"

The big man raised an annoyed voice and his muzzle twitched. He pulled the trigger two and three times, but Kusanagi bounced inside the box with a masira-like movement, preventing him from aiming. Using the springs in his body, he jumped near the floor display panel and delivered a strong kick to the big man's head.

"Uh...!"

The giant staggered, but perhaps it was because of the protective mechanism of the mask, or because of the resistance of his physique, that he stopped in a moment. A hail of bullets rained down on Kusanagi, who was crawling in a crouch. Kusanagi dodged it with a breakdancing move and raised her voice.

"Seri-chan!"

"Eh!"

Awashima wriggled free of the kick-loosened restraint and jabbed her elbow into the pit of the giant man's stomach. Awashima grabbed his arm, which had gone limp in pain, and twisted with all her might. By the principle of leverage, the giant man's body leaned forward, Awashima's palm sank into his neck, and Kusanagi's kick that slipped on the ground swept across his foot almost at the same time.

Kusanagi let out a huge sigh after delivering the final blow to the face and crotch of the giant man who had fallen on his back.

"Don't throw him at me in such a small space. If he bounces, he'll hit you."

"There's no way this kind of idiot would think of such a thing, right?"

Saying to spit it out, Awashima reached for the gun, pulled out the magazine, and fired the last shot remaining in the chamber at his feet. With the quickness of a soldier, Kusanagi whistled. At that moment, the elevator reached the underground parking lot. While he was wary of an ambush, he immediately jumped.

The underground car park, where many luxury cars were parked, was not popular. Awashima warned him as they ran.

"The exit is closed."

"Let's do it. But with this...!"

Kusanagi quickly searched for the stolen PDA. In a hotel where "Jungle" is alive, the security system should be able to work through an electronic network. Sure enough, security-related applications were quickly found. Continuing the operation, the blind at the rear of the parking lot was finally opened and light from the electric light came in.

"Ugh, looks like we managed to escape."

It was then that he took a deep breath and felt relieved.

A green flash appeared, brushing against Kusanagi's hand.

"Kusanagi-kun!"

Awashima let out a surprised voice. Kusanagi couldn't even do that and stared at his empty hand. The valuable evidence that could identify the collaborators stolen from the "Jungle" PDA was pierced by the thrown knife, destroyed without a trace, and fell to the ground.

"Damn...!"

With a bitter groan, Kusanagi turned his hostile gaze into the darkness at the rear of the parking lot.

"Emergency mission accomplished! You get 3000 "Jungle" points!"

An electronic voice sounded like a reward for completing a game that doesn't fit the scene. A flash of green lightning pierced the darkness, revealing someone standing there.

Awashima took a deep breath.

"Who is...?!"

In contrast to the annoying Awashima, the person only had a mechanical, expressionless expression. He pulled out two knives from his chest and wrapped them in green supernatural powers. That glow, this time clearly, began to illuminate the man's face.

"Rank up! Saruhiko Fushimi has been promoted to J-Rank of "Jungle". Congratulations!"

"Fushimi!"

The moment he called out his name, Fushimi threw a glowing green knife at him. Kusanagi stepped forward and crushed the knife with the flames from his lighter.

He wasn't allowed to say the many "whys" that were going through his head. Kusanagi said in a suppressed voice, the red eldritch wrapped around his lighter arm.

"Fushimi. I will listen to your story at the hospital."

The next moment, Kusanagi created multiple fireballs. A direct hit would inevitably cause severe burns, but he unleashed it at Fushimi without hesitation. Fushimi looked at him with an expressionless face.

Suddenly, a man emerged from the ground behind him.

The person emerged from the ground and grabbed Fushimi's shoulder. Fushimi was sucked into the ground as if he was repeating the moment when he appeared upside down. The fireball went through an empty space, hit the rear wall of the parking lot and exploded.

Kusanagi clicked his tongue and muttered.

"Green clan member...!"

"Fushimi! Why, Fushimi?!"

Awashima's agitation was no match for Kusanagi's. With grief more than anger, she called out the name of her former subordinate who had already disappeared. Her feelings were too difficult to guess. Because he showed her his betrayal in the cruelest way possible.

That's why Kusanagi couldn't afford to be carried away by his emotions. He put his hand on the shoulder of Awashima who was standing up and urged her on.

"Seri-chan, that's all for today."

Awashima bit her lip, but nodded clearly. From somewhere far away, the roar of the enemy guards approached them. Kusanagi and Awashima fled from the voice and headed towards the exit of the parking lot.

++++++++++

"Congratulations!"

An unexpectedly bright voice greeted Fushimi as he entered the room.

Hotel Milenio, VIP room. Sitting on a long couch in the center of a room so large it could be mistaken for a hallway, the man slowly clapped his hands. The easy smile that floated on his lips seemed welcoming and ridiculous at the same time, at least to Fushimi's eyes.

The CEO of "Jungle" Corporation, Mishakuji Yukari. Until just a month ago, this man was his adversary. Mishakuji knows this too.

Even so, he calmly pointed to the couch opposite.

"Please make yourself comfortable. Saruhiko-chan. You have the right to."

Fushimi obeyed his words and pursed his lips in a bow.

Mishakuji reached out and took the champagne from the wine cellar. He poured the two glasses of wine onto Fushimi's side and then poured. Raising his glass slightly, Mishakuji winked at him.

"To the birth of a new classifier. And to your free soul. Let's make a little toast."

"Freedom?"

Fushimi didn't even reach for the glass. He doesn't know what's in it and drunkenness slows his judgment.

Mishakuji didn't seem to mind that, and he calmly raised the wineglass to his lips and tilted it.

"Isn't that so? Izumo Kusanagi and Seri Awashima, whom you defeated, were your acquaintances. The reason why you can throw knives in front of your former comrades without hesitation is because you are free."

"In short, are you saying that I am a traitor?"

"It's up to you how you take it. But I don't mean to disrespect you. I mean it, I don't hate it. The determination of people to do what they want without being bound by rules or ethics is beautiful."

Mishakuji narrowed his eyes and stared at Fushimi. Like to see through his thoughts.

Fushimi clicked his tongue sharply in response.

"I don't care about your assessment. Instead, would you let me meet the "Green King" quickly?"

Mishakuji raised the champagne to his mouth again and chuckled.

"Oh, you're pretty impatient, aren't you? You've become the classified you've always wanted, so why don't you soak in the glow a little more?"

"It's not my wish and it's not like I'm immersed in the afterglow. I just did what I could."

"That's not cute. If Sukuna-chan heard that, he'd be mad."

As he said that, Mishakuji put down his glass and got up from the couch. With slow steps, he walked towards the cabinet placed in the corner of the room. When he touched the elegant wooden door with his palm, a scanning light swept up and down, and an electronic voice resounded.

"J-Rank confirmed, Mishakuji Yukari. I'll open the door."

The cabinet was lifted without a sound and opened to the left and right. Beyond is a stout freight elevator. Mishakuji entered and called out to Fushimi.

Fushimi sighed and got up.

"Is it a spy movie or something?"

At that irony, Mishakuji smiled brightly.

"Because it's our "secret base". Without that trick, it would be boring."

Fushimi entered the elevator and looked inside. There were no floor numbers or buttons like in a normal elevator, just a palm-shaped interface on the side of the door. As Mishakuji put his hand on it, the door closed and the elevator began to move silently.

From the acceleration applied to his body, he knew that he was descending at considerable speed. After several tens of seconds, the elevator slowly came to a stop, and the doors opened to the left and right.

The place he entered was a dimly lit corridor. A motion sensor was activated, the lights came on, and a blind appeared, blocking the way.

While Mishakuji was in front of him, a scanning light was directed at his face. Retina authentication. After that, the shutter began to open vertically.

He did not know that such an underground passage existed in the middle of the city. The locks are tight and it's pretty deep.

Behind the shutter was a vast underground space. Stone pillars that look like temples stand side by side, and the light falling from far above illuminates the two in front of them in white. As he walked by, Mishakuji chatted casually.

"It is a secret passageway to our hideout. There are more than 100 exits in Tokyo alone. In the main subways and underground floors of skyscrapers. It is one of the most important secrets that no one knows except the top of our "Jungle"."

Fushimi raised an eyebrow. As a member of "Scepter 4", he knows better than anyone how important current information is. By exhaustively searching the main subway stations and skyscrapers with underground floors, and discovering them from the entrances leading to their hideouts, it is possible to invade the "Jungle" headquarters, which has been hidden until now.

"Is it okay for you to tell me that?"

"Of course. You're already a classified. A companion who shares secrets with us."

Or, Fushimi thought. Maybe they think it's okay to be located. Will they believe "Scepter 4" is lost and no longer has the power to defeat "Jungle" head on?

As if he ignored Fushimi's thoughts, Mishakuji continued with a light tone.

"This time it was a great achievement, Saruhiko-chan. Against "Homura" and "Scepter 4", the number 2 of both clans, fighting alone. Fufu, you should have called for reinforcements, don't exaggerate."

"I don't like cooperative play or anything like that."

"You're lying."

Saying that lightly, Mishakuji looked at Fushimi. The color of his smile and his purple eyes, which had a bit of a piercing light, stared at Fushimi.

"You personally recruited U-Rank Hirasaka Douhan, monopolized the "Jungle" points for two people, and thought of achieving a quick rank rise. You cheating child."

Fushimi didn't bother even though he was caught off guard. That's because he expected the title to have been fulfilled. Faithless whispers.

"It was possible in the system, but couldn't it be done?"

"No way. It's selfish and wonderful. Besides, my Nagare-chan doesn't care about fouls."

Fushimi's eyebrows twitched at the name.

"The "Green King" Hisui Nagare."

"Our King I think likes people who think like that."

The words rang in Fushimi's ears as if they had various meanings.

Fushimi doesn't know anything about Hisui Nagare. But still he knew very well what he was thinking.

Did Saruhiko Fushimi really betray "Scepter 4"?

If so, "Jungle" deliberately invited internal disease. The information that Fushimi, who became a J-Rank, can obtain at his base of operations is immensely important. If that information can be brought to "Scepter 4", the situation can be reversed.

If Fushimi were in Hisui Nagare's position, he would be the first to be suspicious. He would not be promoted to J-Rank. Even if he made a mistake, he couldn't invite it to his base.

But Hisui Nagare does.

Fushimi doesn't like that. Because he makes him feel like a monkey dancing in the palm of Hisui Nagare's hand.

He sometimes he feels that he is swimming.

But the really important things only exist in the tiger's den.

"Come here."

Mishakuji stopped in front of a huge wall.

A thick old door was attached, resembling a shelter, which blocks the underground space. Facing that door, Mishakuji calmly spread his arms.

"Welcome, Saruhiko Fushimi. The "secret base" of "Jungle" welcomes you."

It was unlocked. The door opened slowly with a heavy sound.

Once he set foot there, there will be no going back. Will he fulfill his purpose or leave as a corpse? One of two. He had been prepared for that for a long time, so he did not hesitate to take the plunge.

Still, the moment he stepped forward, the face of a man flashed across his mind.

(Will he get here?)

He may not come. Anyway, he's crazy. He is an idiot who shoots 0 points in a row. It's possible that he doesn't understand what he was saying and it's all over while he's going back and forth.

However, there are times when he gets 100 points.

Fushimi's lips twitched slightly, but when he took the next step, he was gone. With a bored expression on his face, he advanced into the darkness of the tiger's den.

++++++++++

The glass fell to the floor and shattered with a screeching sound.

But Yata didn't notice that. The fist that hit the counter table trembled. His blood seemed to drain and he squeezed his voice through the cracks in his teeth.

"What the hell is he thinking?!"

Kamamoto and Anna looked at Yata as if holding their breath. Kusanagi, standing behind the counter, called out to him in a low voice.

"Calm down, Yata."

However, those words did not reach the current Yata. Yata yelled his anger at that man, Saruhiko Fushimi, who is somewhere.

"You betrayed us, and this time you betrayed even the blue ones, so what are you going to do? What the hell is going on beyond that?"

There is no response to the words that he spits out with passion. Nobody should have known. What Fushimi is thinking and what he is trying to do, the answer can only be found in Fushimi.

He is a traitor.

Those words came to mind and Yata carelessly scratched the mark on his chest.

++++++++++

It's been a long time since she finished her report.

Every time the second hand ticks, a drop of anxiety runs through Awashima's heart. Beyond the office desk, Munakata's expression seemed to be the same as always, but Awashima wasn't sure if that was really the case. After being defeated in the "Battle of Mihashira Tower", something in Munakata decisively changed. That fact has turned into a stagnation of anxiety, and there is always pain within Awashima.

"I see."

Suddenly, Munakata opened his mouth.

"With this, Fushimi Saruhiko's secession became decisive. It's like having your dog bite your hand."

There was also no change in tone from him. Quiet and young, everything is in the palm of his hand, and his eyes say that even if someone like Fushimi leaves him, it will have no effect.

(Is it really so?)

Awashima lowered her head to suppress the voice that seemed to come from within.

"Sorry. It's my responsibility to supervise."

Munakata narrowed his eyes as if he was considering whether he was listening to the apology or not.

"Anyway, we have to fill the void he left as soon as possible. To reinforce the front line, we will transfer several personnel to the Special Forces. 2 people from the Mobile Division general platoon, 3 people from the Information Division and 1 person from the Reference Room of the General Affairs Division."

General affairs section.

She thought she heard it wrong. General affairs departments are often staffed with non-combat fit personnel. There are no adequate personnel for the most elite "Special Forces Corps" in battle.

No. It's also different.

Awashima knows that there is only one suitable person.

"Excuse me."

At that voice, Awashima trembled and turned around.

With a slimy movement, the demon entered the office.

"You...!"

Like flowing water, demons never stop moving. With very natural steps, he advanced to the center of the room.

At that moment, the demon exploded.

Awashima's eyes could not capture the moment when the stillness turned to action, just as the murmur turned into a torrent in an instant. Within a few meters of a single step, the saber running from Zenjo's waist was perfectly positioned on Munakata's neck, beyond the office desk.

"......"

Awashima not only acts as the vice commander of "Scepter 4". Her swordsmanship is the best of the Special Forces and she has never been behind most of the members.

Even she, far from stopping Zenjo's outrage, couldn't even react. It was the demon who had his hand on the hilt of his saber.

Munakata did not lose his composure. A white blade approached the nape of his neck, literally a piece of skin. From there she saw something fall.

It was a mistake. It was cut in half and twitching nervously.

With one arm, he swung the long sword around and Zenjo returned it to his sheath.

"I'm sorry."

"Amazing."

Now that he had picked a fly out of his clothes, it seems that was it. Thinking of that, Awashima cleared her throat.

"Gouki Zenjo, the "Zenjo Demon" who killed the predecessor "Blue King" Habari Jin. From now on, I will have you behind me."

The "King Killer" would be behind.

Awashima understood exactly what that meant.

When Weismann's deviation from the "King" reaches a critical point, the "Sword of Damocles" that was looming over his head falls, bringing ruin to the land. However, if the "King's" life disappears before it drops completely, that is not the case. Yes, if someone can kill the "King" before that happens...

Just like Zenjo did with Habari Jin.

Just like Munakata did with Suoh Mikoto.

Placing that sword behind his back meant that he had his own destruction in sight. To drop his own head before the sword above his head falls. As a sword for that purpose, Munakata chose Zenjo.

Awashima bit her lip and lifted trembling fingers from her saber.

Various emotions swirled and she couldn't contain a single shock.

And she, smart, knew it. That tremor, that fluctuation, was the main reason why she was not chosen.

++++++++++

Pan-pan-pan, a somewhat silly sound resounded.

Ribbons and confetti fluttered and piled above Fushimi's head as he stood in the doorway. Fushimi didn't even pay, he just stood under the board that said "Welcome Fushimi-kun" with an inorganic expression on his face.

"Hey, nice to meet you Saruhiko-kun! Welcome!"

"Thank you for coming, Saruhiko. Welcome."

"Kwah! Welcome!"

Iwafune, Nagare, and Kotosaka greeted him. Even so, Fushimi did not lose his iron expression and answered in a low voice.

"...Thank you."

His line of sight moved slowly, scanning the room.

It was a room like a cheap apartment. The kitchen is full of soot and a rickety fridge has a note telling you when it's your turn to take out the trash. If you look all over Japan, there are probably tens of thousands of one-room apartments with six mats that you can find anywhere.

No one would believe that this is the home of the "Jungle" Green Clan.

But Fushimi knows it's true. This show, which seemed like a practical joke, would be "like" if you know "Jungle" well. The one in the middle, a man in a wheelchair, has that hobby.

The "Green King" Hisui Nagare.

He was younger than he had imagined and more disturbing than he had thought. Even now, he looked at Fushimi with a mysterious smile.

"Okay, let's not just stand up talking. First of all, sit down."

The cheerful middle-aged man is Iwafune Tenkei. His other name is Otori Seigo, the "Grey King". It was the trump card of the Green Clan that won the last battle of Mihashira Tower.

The trump card put a plate of sushi on the table with a happy-go-lucky smile.

"This lazy Iwa-san went all the way to town and bought it. Real sushi! Not one of those food stalls. Look, what would you like? Tuna? Sea urchin? Salmon roe or shrimp?"

Despite the familiar welcome, Fushimi insisted on not placing orders.

"Okay, eggs."

"Heh, are you a boy?"

The only one who whispered was Sukuna Gojou, a boy who had his back to Fushimi. Sukuna's disgusted attitude from the moment Fushimi entered was, on the contrary, easy to understand and comfortable for Fushimi.

Iwafune rebuked Sukuna.

"Hey, you're the kid, aren't you? Oh, yes, there's more than just sushi! Eat chicken! Fried chicken!"

"Eat chicken! Eat chicken!"

"Don't say that, you silly bird!"

Sukuna punched Kotosaka, who spread his wings and made a racket. Seeing that, Iwafune frowned in embarrassment.

"What's up, Sukuna? You've been acting weird for a while now. Are you shy? Huh?"

Sukuna snorted and turned around. Iwafune looked at Fushimi and shrugged slightly.

There, Nagare intervened.

"Saruhiko, you've risen five ranks in just one month. This speed surpasses Sukuna's previous speed. It's really amazing. It's a new record."

Immediately, Sukuna's disgust turned visibly darker. Fushimi observed the situation emotionlessly.

"Nagare... let's talk about that another time."

"Eh, why do you say that, Iwa-san? I'm confused."

"Why? Sukuna, it's okay, so put yourself in a good mood. The beginning of a relationship is important and a smile is essential. You can't do well if you keep getting angry like this. Isn't that right, Saruhiko-kun?"

Through his observations up to this point, images of each person and their relationships have emerged, albeit vaguely.

Hisui Nagare, despite all the brilliance of him, seems to have a simple childishness. It seems that the blunt way of saying that something is awesome honestly doesn't fit with the intricately twisted conspiracy of "Jungle". Or maybe that distortion is the reason why he is called the "Green King".

Sukuna, on the other hand, was unmistakably just a child. His desire to be recognized by Hisui Nagare is transparent. That's probably why he's hostile towards Fushimi. Fushimi can be seen as a rival that threatens his position.

On the other hand, Iwafune is an adult. It must be said that he is suitable for his age, he is trying to mediate in the place of the pure and somewhat unsympathetic Nagare. Including his ability, he can be the base of this "secret base".

While he was thinking about those things, Fushimi responded with a single answer.

"No, it's fine. It doesn't matter."

"Oh, really?"

Iwafune relaxed and sat down on the couch. He raised a beer and made a toast.

"Ok, if you want to act cool, that's fine by me."

"I didn't come here to make friends."

"Then why are you here?"

Mishakuji Yukari, who had been silent until then, whispered.

He could feel the air in the room warm for a moment. Fushimi Saruhiko. Former number 3 of "Scepter 4". Why did a man who used to be his enemy get promoted to Ranker? Even if he didn't put it into words, everyone including Fushimi was probably thinking about it.

Fushimi said it nonchalantly.

"No reason. It's a game, right? I'm just trying to see what happens when I push my score to the limit and if I see something new. I don't think a "sushi party" is the goal, right?"

Nagare narrowed her eyes and answered that question.

"Of course. Our plan starts here."

"Ready, go ahead!"

"I have high hopes for your work. Saruhiko Fushimi, Rank-J, the elite of our "Jungle"."

Everyone present looked at Fushimi.

Expectations, irritations, doubts, curiosity, and various other emotions, Fushimi took for granted. From the moment he took off his blue clothes, he was prepared to be seen with those eyes. Deserter. Traitor. There is no point in trying to remove the labels that have been placed on him. If so, he would make the most of it.

That's why Fushimi smiled fearlessly and said calmly.

"Please, just tell me what to do. I'll show you how to complete any mission. It's much easier than interpersonal relationships."

[blubberquark]

Resolution Independence, Zoom, Fractional Scaling, Retina Displays, High-DPI: A Minefield

I already explained how CPU dispatch is a minefield: It doesn't cause intermittent bugs. It often doesn't even cause crashes. Badly implemented CPU dispatch means you build something on your machine that runs on your machine, but doesn't perform the dispatch correctly, so it crashes on somebody else's machine, or something build on a worse machine still runs fine on a better machine, but not as well as it could. Some of the bugs only manifest with a different combination of compiler, build system, ABI, and microarchitecture. CPU dispatch is a minefield because it's easy to get wrong in non-obvious ways.

I recently played an old game on Windows 11, with a high-DPI 2560x1600 (WQXGA) monitor. Text was too small to read comfortably read, and the manufacturer had set the zoom level to 150% by default. When I launched the game, it started in fullscreen mode, at 2560x1660, which Windows somehow managed to zoom up to 3840x2400. The window was centered, with all the UI elements hidden behind the edges of the screen. When I switched from fullscreen to windowed, the window still covered the whole desktop and the task bar. I quit the game and switched to another. That game let me choose the resolution before launch. At first I tried 2560x1660, but nothing worked right. Then I started it again, at 1920x1080. It didn't look quite right, and I couldn't understand what was going on. Windows has scaled the game up to 2880x1620, which looked almost correct. At this point I realised what was happening, and I set the zoom to 100%. Both games displayed normally.

The first game was an old pixel art platformer from the early 2000s, with software rendering. The second is a strategy game built with OpenGL around 2015, with high-resolution textures based on vector art, and with a UI that works equally well on an iPad and on a PC.

It was hard to read things on that monitor, so I set the font scaling to 150%, but somehow that made things harder to read. Some applications did not honour the font size defaults, and others did, and still others had tiny UI elements with big letters that were spilling out.

Next, I tried to run a game on Ubuntu, with Sway (based on wayland) as the desktop environment. It's a different machine, a 15.6 inch 1920x1080 laptop with an external 1920x1080 23 inch monitor attached. I zoomed the internal display of the laptop by 150% in order to have windows appear equally sized on both monitors.

What is happening on Windows 11 seems to be that even OpenGL games that don't think in terms of pixels, but in terms of floating point coordinates that go from -1 to +1 in both the x and y dimension, (so 0.1 screen units are different sizes in different dimensions) are treated the same as software rendering games that give a buffer of software-rendered pixels to the operating system/graphics environment. Making an already resolution-independent window bigger feels pointless.

What I would want to happen by default, especially in the case of the software-rendered game, is for the operating system to just tell my game that the desktop is not sized 2560x1600, but 1706x1066 (or just 1600x1000), and to then scale that window up. If the window is scaled up, mouse position coordinates should be automatically scaled down from real pixels to software pixels, unless the mouse cursor is captured: If I am playing a DOOM clone or any first-person game, I do not want relative mouse sensitivity to decrease when I am playing on a 4K monitor or when I am maximising the window (if playing in windowed mode). If I have a retina/zoomed display attached, and a standard definition/unzoomed display, and there is a window overlapping both screens, then only the part of a window that is on the zoomed display should be zoomed in.

What I would want to happen with a "resolution-independent" game is this: The game queries the size of the monitor with a special resolution-independent query function. There is no way to "just make it backward compatible". This is a new thing and needs new API. The query returns

Size of all desktops in hardware pixels

Size of all screens in real-world centimetres

Preferred standard text size in pt/cm (real world) or pixels

Zoom factor (in percent) of all desktops

Which screens are touch or multi-touch screens

Is dark mode enabled?

Which desktop is "currently active"

The "preferred" desktop to open the window

This information would allow an application to create a window that is the appropriate size, and scale all text and UI elements to the appropriate size. We can't assume that a certain size in pixels is big enough for the user to comfortably hit a button.

Even this information might not be enough. What should be the behaviour if a windowed OpenGL application is dragged between a 4K monitor at 200% zoom, and a 640x480 CRT? Should the OS scale the window down the same way it currently scales windows up when they aren't "retina aware"?

I don't really know. All I do know is that Windows, Mac OS, and different wayland compositors all handle high-DPI zoom/retina differently, in a way that breaks sometimes, in some environments. But it looks fine if you don't have scaling set. There are ways to tell the windowing system "I know what I am doing" if you want to disable scaling, but these are easy to abuse. There's a cargo cult of just setting "NSHighResolutionCapable" or "HIGHDPIAWARE" without understanding why and why not. Win32 provides all the information you need, with a very complex API. Wayland has a very different approach. SDL is aware of the issue.

I really hope SDL3 will make this work. If you get this wrong, you'll only realise when somebody on a different operating system with a different monitor tries to get your game to fit on the screen by fiddling with the registry, and it goes from not fitting on the monitor to text being too small read.

[lizisshortforlizard]

Living Dangerously - Chapter 33

Jurassic Park’s animal handlers: none of them ever mentioned by name in Michael Crichton’s original novel. Who were they? What were their lives like on Isla Nublar? Did any of them survive the disaster? A year in the life of those responsible for the care of the dinosaurs. Many people would kill to have their jobs. But would they die for it?

Jurassc Park novel/Jurassic Park film (1993)

Viewpoint: 3rd person female oc

Warnings: some swears, nothing explicit in this chapter, though heavily implied in the first half

Tagging: @heresthefanfiction @ocappreciation @wordspin-shares @howlingmadlady @arrthurpendragon @themaradwrites @starryeyes2000 @kmc1989 (please lmk if you would like informed of my sporadic updates. Thanks for bearing with me on this one folks, the first half of this year has not been a good one mentally)

Read on Ao3

Chapter 32 | Chapter 34

Magic Man - Heart

Daylight streamed brazenly into the room the next morning, the clear blue sky holding no memory of the previous night’s storm.

Lizzy awoke abruptly. As the solar rays blasted her directly in the retinas, she dimly registered it was coming from a different angle than usual.

Odd.

She quickly sat up - ouch!

No, she didn’t.

With a soft groan, she sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. Christ, her head was thumping.

The fuzzy outline of her glasses, folded on the bedside table next to what was presumably a glass of water, and two aspirin.

Very odd. Not something even sober Lizzy would do.

Her surroundings came into focus, including a digital clock that definitely wasn’t hers, and with it, a jumble of untidy memories. She squinted to read the first set of numbers on the LCD display.

One-zero.

Ten.

As in ten in the morning? That ten?!

Motherfu-

“Oh no, oh nonono-“ she quietly panicked, scrabbling around at her own body under the covers, checking. Still dressed, barely.

Well, that was something.

But she wasn’t alone in the bed. Lizzy already knew whose presence was beside her, she’d know him anywhere. In the depths of the jungle with not even a sliver of moonlight, she’d know him. She’d always known him.

Robert Muldoon.

I’m in Muldoon’s bed.

She couldn’t remember falling asleep. She couldn’t even remember how she got there. Nothing. Shitting nothing!

Lizzy quickly tried to work out how she felt about the situation, and how she was going to get out of it.

Was she embarrassed? Ashamed?

No, surprisingly neither of those.

Maybe a little disappointed that she still had her underwear on…?

Stop that, right now.

Lizzy certainly wasn’t pleased either. The blanks in her memory were worrying. She didn’t do that sort of thing anymore. And she certainly never slept past ten in the morning.

Enough stewing, she had to leave. She had to leave immediately.

She put her glasses on, downed the water and aspirin, and made to scramble off for a hasty exit.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” That very familiar deep voice with the East African twang confronted her.

She didn’t dare turn around to face him, who knew what kind of trouble she was in?

“Hello!” Lizzy hated how frantic she sounded. “What do you mean, going? I just got here! Haha, ha…haaaa-“

She could feel the intense stare on the back of her head.

A beat pause.

“Want to try that again?” Dry as ever.

Lizzy finally looked over her shoulder, offering a far less panicky “Morning.”

“That’ll do.” He grumbled. “Just got here…unbelievable.”

And then he appeared to fall right back to sleep.

Lizzy blinked in disbelief. That didn’t feel like a goodbye. Was she supposed to leave? Not leave? Had she done something? Were there expectations now?

Kathy would have a field day dissecting this one.

“Just a sec, er…what happened last night?” She ventured nervously. “What exactly did I do?”

“Hmm.” He languidly opened one eye to regard the worried set of her mouth. “What do you think you did?”

“No, don’t do that!” She moaned, rubbing her forehead. “I have concerns.”

“Concerns, eh? Oh, dear.” If she didn’t know any better, he was toying with her. And enjoying it far too much. “You really don’t remember?”

She shook her head, wincing, expecting the worst.

“You got extremely plastered and passed out on my bed.” He finally put her out of her misery. “The absolute state of you.”

“Is that all I did?” She asked warily with heavily implied meaning.

“That’s all.” He answered after drawing out the suspense a few moments longer. “ You have my word.”

“Oh, thank God.” Hand on her chest, her heart was pounding. Disaster averted. “Sorry.”

Not relieved that she hadn’t. But because that was something she’d definitely want to remember doing.

“S’fine. We both needed the rest.”

Something about his tone made Lizzy freeze. Now she recalled. She had intervened. Offered a distraction.

Oh, Christ…

She might not have done anything…indecent, but she couldn’t have been far off.

“Eh-heh…you sleep okay?” Lizzy enquired nervously, covering for her awkwardness. “I’m sorry if I snored.”

“…if?”

“My bad.” She scooted to the edge of the bed and started to scan the room for her clothes. “Simon needed earplugs. Sorry, again. That you saw me at my worst.”

”That wasn’t your worst.” Fire-breathing and sloshed wasn’t her worst by a long shot. He would take that any day, that he could handle. The mention of her ex-fiancé reminded Muldoon what her worst could be. How the New York lawyer had made her voice sound after their fraught phone calls. Meek, bargaining, unassertive. Thanks very much, but no.

Lizzy didn’t hear, too busy scouring the room for the rest of her clothes. She registered with dismay that her shorts were hanging off the door handle, where they’d landed when she kicked them off. She’d have to stand up to get them.

“Where are you going?” Distaste in his voice, no doubt at the mention of my almost-husband, Lizzy thought.

“Uh, where do you think?” She wasn’t in the mood anymore. Just let me leave. “Back to my room to unmake my bed so I can pretend I’ve been in it all night.”

“As if you ever make your bed.” When she started finger-combing her hair out instead of getting back under the covers, Muldoon figured he was being too subtle. “You…hm-…don’t have to go…just yet.”

“Come again?”

I don’t want you to leave.

“You could stay. For a bit longer. If you liked.” Too many words. He was nervous. That the answer would be a Hell no.

Lizzy was silent, mulling the idea over.

“If you’re not too angry at me.” He added.

”Nah.” She waved a hand. Not quite at peace with what he’d done, but close enough. Her primary emotion was still plain mortified at her own actions. “Think I made my point. It’s just-“

“There’s no rush.” He reassured her. “You’re- we’re already very late. I’m not even expecting anyone to turn up today. You’re off the hook.”

“So sleeping with the boss does pay off?” Lizzy wondered aloud. “Does last night count as overtime?”

“Careful.”

She gave him a lopsided smile.

“Actually…I do want to stay.” I never want to leave. “Rather a lot.”

“Then stay.”

Lizzy pointed at her shorts, festooning the doorhandle, like an extremely inappropriate Christmas garland. “Let me just-“

”You don’t need to do that, either. Fine as you are.”

Fine as you are.

“Outstanding-“ As she was swinging her legs up from the floor, Lizzy’s gaze fell on the near-empty bottle on the table and her smart comment died on her lips.

Everything came screaming back, the snub from Hammond, the strange man groping her, her screaming match with Ed Regis, the raptor attack on Rico-

Rico…

Oh my God, Rico.

Lizzy felt her breath catching in her throat, forcing air in, in, in, into her lungs in short gasps until she was certain her chest would burst.

Muldoon frowned, stopping mid-sentence. “Remember to breathe, Armstrong.”

She glanced at him, wide-eyed, hand outstretched, searching for something to lean on. She was losing control, failing to do as he instructed.

”You aren’t listening to me, woman. Breathe.”

“Trying-“ She managed to choke out. “Can’t.”

“Right-“ Muldoon wasted no more time. “Come on. You’ve been doing it since the day you were born, one should hope you’d be reasonably good at it by now.”

She didn’t know how or what he had done to move her, because she wasn’t in the room anymore, and her feet no longer felt stuck solidly to the floor as if she was ankle-deep in quicksand.

She was gone, somewhere else; out in the park, and back in time.

Lizzy had a brief flashback to the stinging burn of leather on the back of her knees as she was pulled across the front seats of a Jeep while the door crumpled inwards and the windscreen frosted, the heat and dust in her nostrils and throat, the faint bellow of a charging Triceratops, recalled and forgotten again in an instant.

It only added to her fear, the feeling the world was crashing down, imploding around them.

“Now-“ Muldoon clasped both her icy, clammy hands in his. “Breathe.”

I. Can’t.

“In through your nose when I squeeze, out through your mouth when I let go.” He directed. “You’ve got to slow down, Lizzy.”

Mercifully from Muldoon’s point of view, she wasn’t compos mentis enough to ask how, why, he had known exactly what to do to stop her hurting herself further. It wasn’t a happy tale, one he didn’t have the energy to recount there and then.

Eventually, each breath slower than the last, Lizzy returned, shaky and pale.

She realised she was once again horizontal in his bed, only this time propped up against him.

Safest place on the island! Her brain offered unprompted, wildly cheerful.

Jeez, I really am losing it.

It pained Muldoon terribly to see her gasping for air like that, clutching at her heart. His stoicism paused, he knew normally she found it reassuring, but right then she needed a lot more from him.

He rested his chin against the top of her still-damp hair and murmured “You’re not alright, are you, love?”

Her sharp inhale nearly triggered a second panic attack. The second word he’d said that had made her gasp, for completely different reasons.

Any other time, Lizzy would have melted. But she didn’t have the energy to feel, to do anything other than lean back, still holding hands, and try and match her too-quick breathing to his. Though her heart was thrumming twice as fast, as if she were a prey animal, caught.

Lizzy was trying her hardest to keep the tears in. Fearful that if she started, she wouldn’t stop. Just sob endlessly until she was too exhausted to continue. She’d held it together long enough for Rico’s sake, and now she was falling apart.

“No, I’m not.” She gulped. To admit it, to be vulnerable, to ask for help, was always difficult for her. Lizzy Armstrong was indestructible, indomitable, independent. Or perhaps she’d only managed to pretend she was for an awfully long time. “What gave it away?”

“Not so sure I am, either.” Muldoon confessed quietly. “But we have to carry on, for the rest of them. You and I are the ones they look for to lead.”

He was right. This was the life they’d willingly chosen. They were no strangers to animal attacks. They could both handle it.

In a lapse in judgement, Muldoon added. “Besides, we don’t know for sure that the worst has happened.”

Blast, why’d I have to go and say that?! I know, she knows, he couldn’t have survived the night. If he has it won’t be long…

He cursed himself. It was damn hard to concentrate properly with the object of his desire curled up in bed with him.

“Hang on-“ Lizzy had hissed in pain when he absent-mindedly shifted his hold further down her wrist. “What happened to your arm?”

“Oh-“ She hurriedly tried to hide under the covers, too late. She’d bruised vicious purple. Adrenaline pumping, she hadn’t realised at the time how intent the rich businessman had been on acquiring her. “It’s nothing.”

“That’s not nothing.” Finger marks. “Who do I need to have words with?” The rush of anger, blinding rage was quite something. Whoever has done this had better start running.

Lizzy didn’t mind the distraction, at least her thoughts had stopped racing and she was feeling something other than anguish. Neither did she mind the excuse for him to hold her hands a little longer.

She explained. “Tom dealt with it. Quite diplomatically.”

“Maybe I’m too hard on the lad. I wouldn’t have been so tactful.”

”Didn’t have you down as the jealous type…” she muttered.

Not jealous. Not like when Armstrong’s face had turned terribly pink as she insisted fiercely she wasn’t jealous of other woman he’d been seeing.

He didn’t feel threatened of losing Lizzy to someone else.

What Muldoon felt was envy. That someone who didn’t deserve her, who hadn’t appreciated how good he’d had it, how lucky that New York lawyer was that he had met her first-

But they weren’t talking about him. The Ex. Only a stranger. An entitled businessman who had gotten too handsy and who was already, if he knew what was good for him, far away on the mainland, for daring to touch her.

No, not jealousy.

Envy.

And that manifested as-

”I’m not. Just protective-“ He continued. “-of what’s mine.”

“Yours?” She became incredulous. “After falling off the wagon last night, you’re under some sort of impression I belong to you?”

She’d really better be going.

“I meant more in the sense of-“ Lizzy stood up and his jaw dropped. “Christ, Armstrong!”

“What?” She twisted back to face him, panicking, that there was a gruesome injury on her body from scrambling around in the undergrowth she must have missed the night before.

“You know fine bloody well!” Eye contact was a lost concept. “Turn back around…”

Oh, she knew that tone.

”No!” Not normally self-conscious Lizzy felt very exposed. “Stop that!”

”Stop what?” She saw a flicker of what he must have been like as a young man in Kenya. Before life had happened to him. The side that only she knew existed, and was incredibly elusive.

It only made her fall a little harder.

“Looking at me like that!” Lizzy wondered if she could make it out of the door in time, before she was pushed up against it. “That look’s going to get us in a lot of trouble.”

Why, how hadn’t he noticed last night? He couldn’t have been hammered enough not to notice that. Could he? Unacceptable.

”Hear me out- I’ve suddenly found the willpower to never drink again.” He looked up at her accusingly, as if it was her fault for not thinking of it sooner. “Maybe if you’d started with this angle-“

“I…now who’s unbelievable?!”

“That particular…angle…” With an effort, he met her gaze. “Yes, maybe you’d better leave now, or you won’t be leaving at all.”

Lizzy’s eyes widened.

That nearly did it for Muldoon. “Go, please.”

Lizzy had an epiphany as she carefully backed away, reaching out blindly for her sleep shorts.

Avoiding him because of her own demons when he needed her most wasn’t going to work long-term. She had to stop selfishly disappearing because it was easier. She had to choose to be brave. They were going to get through this together.

“If you’re…struggling, with…wanting a drink-“ Lizzy huffed as she hoiked her shorts up over her hips “-promise you’ll come and find me first. Please.”

“For what?”

“To be a distraction.” She smirked wickedly. “I seem to have an effect on you.”

“…already very distracting...” He managed drag his gaze up to meet her eyes. “What’s that smile for?”

Now dressed, with her hand on the door handle, Lizzy felt safer. He was fast, but not that fast.

“Because I’m not even trying-“ Still, she didn’t feel brave enough to test that theory. “-yet.”

A parting shot as she quickly slipped away.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Armstrong-“ Muldoon groaned and lay back, speaking to the now empty-room. ”But I think I’m alright with that.”

***

Lizzy emerged corridor-side as Tom rounded the corner in just his boxer shorts, almost flattening her. He clumsily halted before the collision, took in the sight of her bare legs with sleepy eyes, nodded appreciatively, then did a double-take as he noticed which room she was escaping from.

The door swung shut with a click as the realisation dawned on both their faces.

Dammit.

Caught.

“Haha ha, ha-“ Tom broke into an enormous foamy grin around the toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. “Hey, alright, alright, alright! Was it like a sneeze, but better?”

“Jesus, keep it down.” Lizzy complained. “Nothing happened.”

“Boring!” He smirked. ”I guess I believe you. Your hair doesn’t look any worse than usual.”

“Well, if you’re feeling brave-“ She jerked her head back at the door. “-ask the man himself.”

”I could...” His face fell. “But then again, I value my life.”

“Seriously.” Her headache had tripled its efforts, the aspirin wasn’t doing its job. “Please don’t tell anyone. I have enough to worry about.”

Tom basked in her imploring expression, making an Oscar-worthy show of weighing up his options, before nodding.

“Obviously I won’t tell.” He reassured. “My snitching days are over, since I actually kind of like you and that Baker chick. You can relax.”

“With you around?” Lizzy tutted. “Never fully relaxed. But thanks.”

“Pretty mega though.” He could still tease her as much as he liked. Not a thing she could do. “Awfully tempting.”

”You want my dinner money? Fine.” Lizzy groaned. “Just keep your trap shut.”

Tom pondered for a moment. Not her money. Perhaps something far more valuable. Maybe a favour involving the ethologist’s Minnesotan best friend.

“I might want something.” He mused aloud, waggling his toothbrush at her for emphasis. “But it can wait. All in good time.”

“I’m far too tired to even attempt to figure out what that means.” She sighed, holding up her hand to silence the inevitable because you weren’t doing much sleeping? comment. “Have you heard anything from the mainland?”

“About Rico?” Tom turned sombre in an instant. “Not yet. But the chopper came in to land hours ago.”

“Huh.” Lizzy ran a hand through her hair, deep in thought.

“I assume, one way or another, you didn’t hear it.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I did not. Heavy rain and all.”

”Doncha mean, ‘we did not’?” The infuriating grin returned. “What base you get to?”

Lizzy just stared.

“Jesus.” Tom was disappointed at her refusal to take the bait this time. “Loud and clear. No bases. Not even a game.”

”Speaking of which..” Lizzy tailed off as she spotted a familiar red-haired head bobbing past the window at the end of the corridor, a freckled face belonging to the island’s resident baseball fan.

”Oh, hey.” Tom pointed. “Ed’s back.”

”Wait right here.” Lizzy told him vacantly. “There’s something I need to do.”

***

2 weeks later

Ray Arnold was dying. Or, at least, he felt like he wasn’t far off. Kathy Baker had dragged him out of his inner sanctum to march across the island on a hike; which, in this humidity, was going to kill him a lot faster than his smoking habit.

“How ‘bout that game, huh?” He wheezed.

“It was fine.” Kathy answered tersely.

Sure enough, the Cowboys had won the Superbowl. And the die-hard Minnesota Vikings fan had lost herself a bet from siding with the Bills. Tom had been insufferable.

”Oh, shit, sorry.” Ray cursed himself. “Yeesh.”

“Just over this next rise…” Kathy promised as the path rose upwards out of the treeline. In the next few seconds they’d have a fantastic view of- ”Oh.”

Nothing.

Dense fog in every single direction.

”Now, how about that-“ Arnold mustered the last of his energy to swagger up behind her.

”Shut up.” Kathy grumbled.

“Look, I know you mean well, honey-“ He couldn’t have cared less about the vistas. He could see them in HD, from any angle, at any time, with a lot less effort. “-but you’re killing me over here!”

“Ray Arnold. You have got to get out of that room.” She insisted. “Get some damn Vitamin D. Enjoy the tropical paradise.”

”I enjoy it just fine from behind a monitor. Anyway, it looks like goddamn Alcatraz from above.” He wiped his brow. “This goddamn never-ending fog.”

“Mia’s gonna whoop both our butts if we don’t start getting into shape…” Kathy dangled a threat in front of him.

The engineer paled at the mention of his wife.

“That’s what I thought.” She nodded, satisfied, and inhaled deeply. “Smell that?”

“Smell what?”

”Fresh. Air.” Her enthusiasm wasn’t catching. “I’m not surprised your senses are dulled. And your lungs must be, like, ninety-per-cent ash at this point.”

“I prefer the term well-done. Lightly cremated. Cajun.” Arnold’s eyes darted anxiously around. “Wasn’t it around here that Rico kid got, er…”

“Might be, I dunno…” Kathy quickly brushed it off, but she knew exactly where they were, and what had happened in the bushes thirty feet downhill to the right of the path. She could still remember the smell of the blood, and the raptor saliva, mixed with sodden earth and moss-covered branches. The whir of the helicopter blades. Rico’s awful rattling and groaning as he fought for his life.

She tried to think of something else. Dwelling on that rainy winter night for too long felt like tempting the fates. Bad luck.

Improving Arnold’s life expectancy wasn’t the sole purpose of the hike, but it was a good enough distraction from other problems.

Earlier, Lizzy and Muldoon had vanished, yet again. The pair giving the same, vacant, I’m a bit busy, over replies to radio messages. Liz, girl, puh-lease. I can hear you in the background when he answers! They were clearly on another super-important, totally-work-related task, no doubt. Those seemed to be increasing in frequency of late.

Even when they were around the rest of the team, the silent communication thing was getting real old. How with a glance Muldoon could make Lizzy beam at some inside joke only they shared, seeing nothing but each other in a room full of people.

Ugh, sickening.

Kathy had given up asking what’s so funny. All Lizzy would do was grin even wider and shake her head. You wouldn’t get it. Kathy was lonely. At least Ray was consistent, his sarcasm predictable and comforting.

Smithsonian job offer aside, it filled her with dread to think she might actually be losing Lizzy ahead of time. Who promised her otherwise, that ‘us girls’ would still hang together whenever possible, but since New Years kept on ditching her for a certain park warden at every opportunity.

Maybe that was why she’d agreed to Tom’s high-risk low-reward Halftime Show bet.

“Hey man, can I ask you something?” Kathy piped up.

The engineer gave an affirmative wheeze.

“Tom said if the Bills lost I had to go on a date with him-“

“Oh, shit!” Arnold yelled, sounding horrified, shocked, scared?

Kathy bristled. ”Jeez, it’s not that big of a-“

”No, girl!” He was by her side in a flash, future emphysema be damned. “Dino just ran across the path behind us! It’s outside the fences!”

“Why were you-“ She turned, about to finish with looking behind us? only to see a sheepish Arnold, with a fresh cigarette poking from his mouth. “Darn it, Ray!”

“Sorry, honey.” Arnold paused, his lighter already on its way upwards from his pocket. “It’s on account of my nerves.”

”Yeah, well…” She gestured at him in exasperation. “What’d it look like? The dino?”

“I dunno.” The engineer spoke around his cigarette. “Kinda…pointy?”

Kathy raised an eyebrow. ”Pointy? That the best you can do?”

“Give me a break! Like…if a greyhound were a reptile, I guess?”

“O-kay…” She muttered. “Narrows it down, I guess…”

Not a herbivore.

“‘bout yea big?” Arnold held his hands apart, measuring.

”Probably just a compy.” Kathy deduced, her alarm ebbing. “They’re everywhere. Can’t keep ‘em in.”

“Dangerous?” Arnold looked edgy.

Kinda big for a compy though…

”Not when you’re with me.” Kathy patted his arm reassuringly. “Scavengers. You’ll be fine, just don’t keel over right here from sucking on those cancer sticks.”

“Can’t promise anything, sweetie.”

Kit was the expert after all. Probably just a compy or whatever, like she said. For watching them all day long, Arnold only knew them as names on a graph, numbered dots on the tracking system. He couldn’t actually pick species out of a line-up.

Now his girl was looking at him expectantly.

”What now?”

”Ya gonna put that out?” She suggested dryly. “Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires!”

”Nuh-uh. Need my fix. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way.”

Kathy heaved an incredibly loud drawn-out sigh and about-turned to lead the way back to base.

Arnold cheerfully exhaled a cloud of smoke, visibly more relaxed as they moved off. “Now, spill. About this date-“

***

“Teething problems, dear boy!” Hammond spun his cane hypnotically as he sat in the living room of his bungalow. “Every zoo in the world has had teething problems at some point in its development.”

”Is Gennaro-?” Ed Regis pointed his thumb back towards the door.

He reflected that he felt not unlike the prehistoric insect frozen in time atop the old man’s walking stick. Encased in amber. Trapped. Doomed.

He’d never been in Hammond’s abode before. The only place on the island not covered by a single security camera or monitoring device.

”Donald couldn’t make it.” The creator of InGen sharply cut him off. “We don’t need him today. What was I saying...”

Thank you Regis muttered as María placed a laden tea tray in front of him.

”-Ah, yes! And besides, it isn’t a mere zoo!” Hammond continued pontificating. “Jurassic Park is an experience.”

“I understand that-“

”And they will experience it. The children will experience it.” Hammond seemed almost giddy that his creation had indeed proved to be lethal. “I’m not at all concerned.”

“Mr Muldoon wants to put it down.” Ed offered. “The raptor. Has for a while. He’s been quite vocal about it.”

“That man? Vocal? About anything?” Hammond raised both eyebrows, his already furrowed brow wrinkling deeper. “No. You’re mistaken.”

“And he seems to have quit drinking recently…”

“Has he now? Hm. We’ll see.” Now that actually seemed to concern the older man. “It’s a very stressful job he has.”

“He’s sweet on Mis-…uh, Dr Armstrong.” Regis added. “Who is vocally against euthanasia of the raptor.”

Ed wasn’t quite sure why. That animal was vicious. And the raptor too he internally chuckled to himself.

“Then maybe everything will work out by itself.” Hammond nodded. “But it wouldn’t do any harm to fan the flames of that particular domestic, if you can.”

“You don’t think maybe its the, er-…” Ed gulped before proceeding. “-right thing to do?”

To say the young sports fan was having a crisis of faith after the accident was putting it mildly.

”Euthanasia? Out of the question.” Hammond turned stony-faced and Regis immediately regretted speaking out of turn. “You do realise, that animal, once fully-grown, is of greater monetary value than a court settlement for wrongful death?”

”I, uh-“

”More valuable than a dozen court settlements?”

Regis nodded his head mutely.

“No. I simply won’t have it!” Hammond continued, tapping his cane sharply on the tiled floor to drive his words home. “The boy was just a construction worker.”

Just?

Regis scratched his head, terribly hot under the rim of his hat. ”Mr Hammond, sir, it was actually one of the animal handlers.”

He had left out the part where it had been his idea in the first place, to put the raptor out on display. How Liz Armstrong had goddamn barked at him from the doorway of the staff lodge, the first time she’d laid eyes on him the morning after the accident, standing there with her arms crossed, in her PJs.

Hell, that would probably come back to bite him, calling her a dog. She might eventually forgive him, but she sure as Hell wouldn’t forget it.

But that was a problem for another day. As far as Armstrong was concerned, Esteves was still in a critical condition, deep in the clutches of a coma, lying prone in a San José hospital bed.

She didn’t yet know the boy was dead. None of them did. The other animal handlers were starting to ask when they could visit Rico on the mainland, if he was well enough to come home yet, and Ed was fast running out of excuses.

”You’re misremembering, son. It was only a construction worker.” Hammond’s voice turned appeasing, child-like, terribly persuasive. It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it. “And it was a construction accident. These things happen. With a, er…backhoe, I believe? An awful tragedy.”

Regis’ shoulders drooped. “Yes, sir.”

“It’s quite alright, my boy. The local families never push for lawsuits, they can’t afford it.” He tittered. “And if they did, they certainly wouldn’t win.”

“He was-“ Ed Regis stopped and tried to remember. Esteves was-, had been Spanish, or was it Portuguese? He couldn’t recall. In any case, not local.

“Yes?”

Regis saw then that he couldn’t win either. Like the bereaved family with their compensation money, he’d have to take his helping of guilt and run, since he wasn’t getting any sympathy from his employer.

Don’t bite the hand that feeds.

He sighed in resignation. “Careless, sir. He was careless.”

Hammond looked at him reproachfully. “How many times, dear boy?”

Ed Regis adjusted his baseball cap again with a strained smile. “Sorry, John. You’re right, of course. The boy was careless. And look where it got him.”

***

“Not that this isn’t, y’know, stunningly beautiful-…“ Lizzy pointed oceanward, to the all-consuming fog wrapped around the shore. “But why are we here?”

Muldoon took his time answering her. ”So you didn’t want me to take you to the beach today?”

The ethologist cast her arm around at the waterfront. What beach? No sand, just boulders, as far as the eye could see. Which currently, was only a few metres. Cracking.

A boat horn sounded in the distance.

“We’re here, because as much as I care for you, Armstrong-“

Lizzy feigned an itchy nose to cover her smile.

“-we need to have a chat about your animal.”

“Which animal?” She stopped itching. Her heart sank.

“I’ve given you long enough. The way that raptor acts with you now-“ He shook his head.

The ethologist had been trying her hardest to regain the raptor’s trust after the cage break, but she now clearly associated Lizzy with danger, fear and pain. The dinosaur snarled every time she made eye contact. Lizzy was afraid there was no return, and each failed training session made her heart ache a little more. Their bond was ruined.

I’m trying to help you, clever girl. Why can’t you figure that one out?

”Mm-hmm.” She answered unhappily, staring out into the pale void. The worst part was, as much as she hated to admit it, now she was attached to the damn animal.

You have to let me help, or bad things are going to happen to you.

“We’re at an impasse.” Muldoon was ever-practical. “You know it.”

“Is that why we’re here? If I continue to disagree with you then you’ll…maroon me?” Lizzy was still searching for the reason why Muldoon had driven her to the East dock that afternoon, of all places. “Send me out to sea on a raft with a single bullet?”

“It’s occurred to me I’m not longer capable of looking at this objectively, since your safety, or lack of, is all I can think about.” Muldoon checked his watch. “And I would quite like to keep you alive and in one piece, mostly for my own selfish reasons.”

“It’s a wonder you get anything else done.” She couldn’t resist a dig of her own. You’re not the only one who survived Africa. “What with worrying about me taking up so much of your day.”

“It’s exhausting.” The park warden agreed, deadpan. “Look here, I made a call to Sorna. To someone who knows that animal nearly as well as you do. I thought you should meet her. Maybe then you’ll see sense.”

Now that pissed her off. Nobody knows that animal anywhere near like I do.

The rumble of a small boat engine rounding into the dock echoed through the fog.

Lizzy ignored it.

”Her? You’re speaking to other women on the phone without telling me now?” She was making a poor attempt at hiding her discomfort with humour. She felt blindsided.

“I really don’t want to fall out with you over this, Lizzy.” Muldoon reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. Her bad shoulder.

“Me neither.” She moved away from him and stared at the ground. “But I’m afraid that’s inevitable now.”

”I’ll do what I have to.” He answered firmly. “Even if this doesn’t go your way, we need to make the decision.”

“Then stop talking like you’ve already made it for me!” Lizzy hissed, beginning to lose her temper.

The boat engine suddenly cut out.

“Doctor Armstrong, I presume?” A female voice called from beyond view.

The wind picked up, clearing the shoreline, and Lizzy’s stomach turned over when she saw that the woman stepping gingerly onto the dock was missing exactly one-and-a-half fingers from her right hand as she raised it to the both of them in greeting.

Lori Ruso gave a tight-lipped smile and cast a critical eye over the skyline of Isla Nublar as she shielded her face from the weak glare of a sun determined to burn its way through the low clouds.

“So, tell me-“ She asked coolly. “What’s become of my raptor?”

***

Thanks for reading!

As mentioned, a tough time mentally recently where I have doubted myself and my writing ability A LOT. Lots of oh God I’m Shit moments. Normal service resuming.

[wittlesissyb4by]

Author's Note: If you're wondering where Chapter 4 is, you're not going crazy. Due to the nature and formatting (it uses chatlogs and explicit content) it is not suited enough for this prude-ass site. I'm sorry to say, but if you want to read Chapter 4 (and all the way up to 7), you'll have to subscribe to my SubStar. I'm sorry, I wish there was another way, but I will have it available for even the least expensive option of $3. My sincerest apologies. Still, I think you'll still be able to grasp the story without missing too much context from Ch. 4 (our MC Alan performed a task, and was rewarded with pictures of Persephone.) I hope you can still enjoy the story below. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

The White Rabbit Chapter 5 - Cockslut

I had never jerked off to the same set of pictures so many times in my life. Even when I was younger and found my Dad’s dirty magazines, my prepubescent self didn’t spank it as much as I had to the photos I’d just received from Persephone.  I spent so long staring and fapping to those pictures she sent, every inch of her was embedded into my brain. Burned into my retinas like when a TV is left on for so long that it damages the display. Hell, it probably is burned into my phone screen from being up so many times. 

She’s even more gorgeous than I imagined. It’s rare that something can live up to the hype you’ve been building up for it for so long. I pored over every pixel of her perfect body, examined the contours of her cheeks, the twinkle in her eyes, the crooks of that devious smile, the splotches of colors in her tattoos, specifically the one of the little white rabbit.

“That doesn’t mean that’s what she really looks like. She could be catfishing you” That tiny voice in the back of my head still whispered.  But I shoved that thought aside, even after the post-nut clarity hit.

I still masturbated the way she told me to. Every single time. Fingering the head of my dripping clit through my little panties with a dildo in my mouth or ass. I didn’t last long at all. I imagined her standing over me, smiling that wicked smile, laughing at me while shoving that dildo in my mouth, or pounding me in the ass with it. I finally was able to give a face to the rubber dick I’d been shoving in my holes for so long. What I wouldn’t give to have her right there next to me, doing all the things I imagined, but in reality.

Persephone didn’t talk to me for a few days. I don’t know if she had something going on, or if she was just leaving me to my own devices, to stare longingly at her photos, to imagine scenarios of her in my head. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I think it also makes subs more dependent on their Mistresses. 

Without her guiding presence, I was left with this odd sort of void. No one was telling me what to do anymore. How would I know how to “fuck my slutty little asshole” if she wasn’t there to tease and berate me with her messages?

I’m not proud of what I did in her absence. 

“Sorry, I had some things…come up at work.” She messaged after almost a whole week. 

“It’s fine.” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, like I wasn’t checking my phone every 30 seconds in hopes that she would finally respond. 

“Did you do okay while I was gone?”

“Yes Mistress.” I said, hoping to leave it at that.

“My little slut was able to handle herself?”

I guess you could say that.  “Yes Mistress.”

But something was eating at me. I didn’t know how to tell her, I didn’t know if I wanted to tell her. But this relationship—no matter how weird it was—had to be built on trust, right?

“I…i might’ve…” I typed out the next part, deleted it, then typed again. “I may have…found someone else…”

My heart was pounding as I waited for her response, but it didn’t take long. 

“Oh?”

She wanted me to elaborate. 

“Did you find a girl in real life that’ll dress you up like a sissy bitch and fuck your little butt, slut?”

I audibly scoffed at that. Like that would ever happen. 

“No I…found some other people online…”

“People? As in, more than one?”

“I…yea…”

She didn’t say anything for a while. She must have been fuming. 

“Are they girls? Or are they men?”

I felt myself flush, shriveling into myself. I felt so ashamed, not just because of what it was, but because I knew I was disappointing her. I was effectively ‘cheating’ on her. 

“Men…😞”

Nothing happened for a second, minutes, hours— or at least that’s what it felt like. Then, Persephone is typing��

It took a long time too. She must have been writing a novel. Berating me for being such a piece of shit. I finally found a girl to fulfill my dreams, and I went and blew it as soon as she stepped away for a few days. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” She said. “Did you sext with them??”

Again, I wanted to lie, but there was no denying it now. “Yes…”

“This is it. I blew it. A girl any submissive would kill for, and I let it slip away the first chance I got. 

Persephone is typing…

I was sweating, dreading what was to come. Finally, a massive text bubble hit the screen. 

“LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂”

Well…that wasn’t the response I expected. 

“You fucking WHORE!! Hahaha”

I felt a bit of tentative relief, still not quite sure how she was taking it. 

“Did I tell you you had to do that??”

“No ma’am…😥”

“But you did it anyway?”

“Mhmm.. 😣”

“You know, this is the second time you’ve done something without my permission, and it always seems to involve cock…”

She was referring to the time I used the dildos she ‘made’ me buy. She didn’t tell me to use them, she didn’t have to, I just…did it anyway. 

“Because you’re a desperate little cockslut, aren’t you?”

My immediate reaction was to deny it, the same way I’d been doing my whole life. I always told myself ‘as long as a woman was making me be a slut for men, it was fine. It’s not gay.’ But the proof was right there. Even without her around I still went out and did what I always told myself I’d never do on my own. 

“I…i think so…😩”

“I wanna hear you say it.” 

“Say what?”

“Tell me what you are.”

It took a second to register what she meant, but then it hit me like a truck.

“I’m a little cockslut…” I said. Just typing the words made me feel weird, but also weirdly arroused…

“Louder.”

I switched to all caps, “I’M A LITTLE COCKSLUT!!”

“No no.” She replied, “I want you to make a video. Put your little panties on, get on your dildo, and start bouncing.”

I scrambled to obey, perhaps a bit too quickly. My cock was already fully erect by the time I pulled my panties up around it. I stuck the suction cup to the floor, making the rubber dick sway back and forth, squirted a generous amount of lube on the tip, worked some between my crack, pulled my panties aside, hit the video, and started recording. 

I slowly lowered myself down on it, wincing as it pressed inside my unrelaxed sphincter. There were several seconds of awkward fumbling and adjusting and lowering and gasping before it finally worked its way in and the sounds turned to sighing. 

“I’m a little cockslut,” I said softly, working the dildo further into me. 

“I’m a little cockslut.” I repeated, feeling it slide along my prostate. 

“I’m a little cockslut!” My eyes were in the back of my head. 

“I’M A LITTLE COCKSLUT!!” I practically shouted, burying the dildo all the way inside me until I was squatting down on the balls. There was no denying how good it felt to be full like that. I quickly clipped the video and sent it to Persephone. 

“Don’t stop now.” She replied. “I can see you leaking in your panties. You’re loving this!!”

She was right, my panties were soaked with precum. 

I bounced, swirled, grinded my hips back and forth. 

“How many guys did you sext with?”

I wanted to reduce the number, but I was too horny to deny it. 

“Seven” I managed to reply while still keeping rhythm. 

“Seven?! That’s more than I assigned you the other day!”

She was right. What felt like such a chore before quickly became something I craved, like a lot of things she was making me do…

The dildo felt so good. I was fully relaxed now, bouncing and taking that dick like the best of them. 

“How did it make you feel? Being a little whore for men and making them cum?”

“Like a slut, Goddess.”

“You fucking LOVED it, didn’t you?”

I did, and I told her so. 

“Show me how much you love that dick.”

I set the camera up again, putting it in selfie mode so I could see myself bounce on the cock. I needed to shave my legs, I needed to work out more, get in better shape to get a better body so I could attract more—

Oh my GOD! It felt so good. When I leaned back it hit my spot perfectly. I crab-crawled my arms backwards, putting all my weight on my hands so I could focus on gyrating my hips. 

I pulled the front of my panties to the side. I wanted her to see how hard I was. How much it made my dick swell to have something pumping in and out of my asshole. I was gonna be her little buttslut. Her little whore to pimp out like she always told me. My mind was swimming, my body was clenching, waves coursed through my legs and up to my pelvis, an immense rush came from inside my rectum and then—

The first shot caught me off guard. A huge spurt of semen flew straight up in the air. Another one went forward, spraying the floor and pretty much everything else around the room as my bouncing cock spewed like an unmanned firehose. 

It took several seconds for me to register what happened, to come off the high I just experienced. To snap back to reality, to realize this even was reality. I was still gasping for breath when I slowly slid the cock out. I sat there for a second, contemplating what just took place. 

I just had a sissygasm. 

I’d heard of it before, but I never thought it was actually possible other than by extremely practiced sissies. Professionals. Ones that knew what they were doing because they’d done it so much and so heavily enjoyed the feeling of co—

I grabbed my phone, swiping away a glob of cum that must have landed on the screen. I contemplated not sending the video to Persephone, but I had to see what she said. 

Her first several messages were a series of laughing emojiis. She even sent me an audio file of her cackling like an amused hyena. If I could have seen her face, it probably had tears of laughter leaking down the sides. 

“I knew you’d get there one day, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon!!”

I let her have her fun. Berating and humiliating and teasing me for proving what a “cockslut” I am. I don’t think there was anything I could do to deny it at that point. 

“Clean up your mess.” She finally said. 

I spent the next several minutes lapping up the many, many puddles of cum littered around the room. The thick globs refused to come up just from me tonguing it like a dog, so I had to press my lips around them and slurp it up like a dog. 

“You’re not done.” She said after I sent her the video of me gargling and swallowing some. 

I looked around for a puddle I’d missed, how had she seen something that I couldn’t?

“I’m not sure where, Goddess…?”

Was it my panties? They *were* quite wet, did she mean my panties? But she soon clarified:

“The dildo 😈” 

My stomach churned as I looked back at the rubber dick I’d just violated my ass with. “Oh Goddess…please no…”

This wasn’t me faking some sort of trepidation in order for her to have another chance to belittle me, this was genuine disgust. 

“I know it’s gross, honey. But if i’m gonna whore you out you’re going to have to get used to going ass to mouth. There are some very callous men out there…”

“Please…please don’t make me 🥺”

“I’m sorry, sissy, it has to be done. Let this be a lesson for you to keep yourself clean at all times. You need to be doing regular enemas. You never know who’s gonna stop and bend your bimbo ass over! Now get to cleaning. And don’t try to wipe it down first either, I can see the glistens of lube.”

Damn, that was my backup plan. There was no getting out of it. Well…there was. I could just stop talking to her altogether. Draw the line. Quit right here and now. But was I really going to let a dirty dildo ruin what we have? I’d probably never get this opportunity again. (Not to clean my ass juices off a fake dick—but have a powerful woman tell me what to do.)

I leaned in close, turning up my nose, trying to block out the faint, pungent smell. The fake black dick at least hid any damning streaks I may not have had the stomach to see. 

After tapping record on my phone, I tentatively opened my mouth and stuck my tongue to the tip, cringing at the taste that was probably more lube than anything else. I made a mental note to get the flavored stuff if this was going to be a regular occurance. 

A regular occurance? What was happening to me?? I went from wanting to be dominated by a stranger, to wearing panties, dirty talking creepy men, shoving dicks in my holes, and then shoving those dirty dicks back into my mouth. I never imagined wanting to be dominated would lead to me doing such depraved things. But here I was, slurping the lube off of a dick I just used to make myself cum without even touching my own dick. 

“I think you missed a spot…” Persephone said, “go deeper.”

I wonder if she enjoys this. Like genuinely enjoys watching guys in panties gag and sputter on a dirty dildos. Then again, I can think of several females I screwed over in the past that would probably pay good money for this very video. 

“Now the balls…”

If it was able to sparkle, it would have by the time I was done with it. My mouth was full of all sorts of conflicting flavors like cum, lube, and god knows what else. 

“Smack your face with it a few times, just for giggles!”

Oh how far I’d fallen. If only I had known at the time that this was only the very beginning. 

“Did you have fun?” She asked after it was all said and done. 

“Yes Goddess,” I said, even without being horny anymore, I found myself being truthful. 

“You like being my little slut?”

“YES Goddess!”

“Good. Because I have another assignment for you…”

~~To Be Continued~~

To Read Further, Head Over to SubStar!

[nancypullen]

Winds of Change

I think I've had about all I can take from the ol' Denton library. I have poured myself into this job and, quite frankly, it's sucking the life right out of me. Without going into detail, I'm just going to say that I gave it six months and 100% of my effort only to understand why they have such a high turnover rate. C'est la vie. I'll let you know when my departure is final, you'll probably notice an increase in nonsense on this blog. With that out of the way, let me tell you about my latest treasure. I've mentioned the auction house just up the street from us, and that every Monday night there's an auction. It's usually estate sales, and can be either loads of junk or some really lovely finds. Last week it was about fifty-fifty. BUT, there was an item there that I really wanted and because I am cheap frugal I decided to set my maximum bid at $15. I know, I know, Diamond Jim, right? The whole point of an auction (for me) is to get something for practically nothing. On Monday night I was watching my piece like a hawk, hoping no one else displayed interest. I ended up bidding against just one other person and winning THIS for just $7.75!!

Isn't she gorgeous?? I'll put her in my craft room because I can always use more storage and those shelves are perfect for my art books. I felt like I hit lotto when I won for less than ten bucks! Of course, we all know that I'm about to spend thirty bucks on paint and foo-foo stuff to turn her into a show girl. Right now I'm thinking Irish Garden (left) and Peony (right) because I'm a girly-girl and proud of it.

Maybe a shade or two deeper than the Irish Garden, but I haven't made up my mind yet. I have to take into consideration the wall color (might be a bit too close to Irish Garden) and the furniture and décor already there. Any way you slice it, I'm going to have fun with this. I mean, look at these drawer pulls. Just take my money already!

In other delightful news, my Zepherine Drouhin climbing rose is climbing and blooming!

She's a beauty! I'm so excited. When she arrived she was just a stick with a couple of scraggly roots. Look at her go! That pic was snapped while I was spraying neem oil to keep the hungry bugs away. Why do bugs love roses so much? I'm happy to share bits and pieces of my gardens with insects, but they go after roses like piranhas. Everything else is chugging along just fine - zinnias and sunflowers are going to make the east side of the house glorious in a couple of weeks. Some of the zinnias are already blooming, it'll take the sunflowers quite a bit longer. The German Pink tomato plant that I picked up in Pennsylvania at an Amish market is thriving. It's got lots of blooms and each one promises a juicy fruit. Crossing my fingers. The kitchen herbs are all in good shape. As usual, the basil is practically a shrub. The dill is full, the rosemary is coming right along now that I moved her, and there's parsley in a pot out front. All of the various blooms and ferns are happy and healthy. It looks and feels like summer. We're going to have the full Strawberry Moon (it'll be hanging low in the sky) and the summer solstice at the same time. That's reason for my witchy heart to celebrate. Time to play my favorite song!

I loved that song in the 70's when King Harvest released it (I think I was 10), and loved it even more in the 2009 when Toploader cut their version. Know what's sad? I heard it the playing a couple of days ago in a commercial for retina medicine. I'm old. Time for me to head upstairs and soak in the tub. Tomorrow is a work day and I swear if anyone looks at me cross-eyed I'm outta' there. There's one coworker, someone I have to work closely with a lot, who is always in some sort of emotional turmoil and can't work. Normally I'd be very compassionate for anyone going through a tough time- but hers are self-inflicted and/or manufactured. It's exhausting. She's also a gossip and I don't like being put in the uncomfortable position of receiving another's private info that she shouldn't be telling me. Even worse, she's management so I can't complain to management. Not that I would, I'm an advocate of putting on my happy face and just getting the job done. It does make for long days, though. There are some truly lovely people who work there, but I do understand why so many have left. Ugh. Taking it a day at a time. That's why I'm going upstairs to soak in the tub and relax, to brace myself for whatever is coming my way tomorrow. It's always something - an OD, a coworker having a meltdown, something disgusting in the book drop, or just spicy patrons. A half hour in some hot water with a bath bomb recharges my batteries. I probably need these earrings too.

Anywho, I'll be reading in bed, covered up in cats, by the time the mister comes up. I think my reading material makes him nervous. This week's selections...

He probably sleeps with one eye open. Good night, my darlings. I hope that your days are happy and your nights restful. I hope that if things are topsy-turvy or stressful that they settle soon. And trust me, they will. Something that I tell myself about my less than satisfying life right now is that this is just a chapter, not my whole story. It ends, and something new begins. Always. Sending out lots of love tonight. Take what you need. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

[littlewolfdunbar101]

Chapter Snip it from my Thiam fanfic

In an unexpected turn of events, Alec, known for his unwavering honesty, found that his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as he blurted out, "Blue or yellow?" Theo's puzzled expression said it all - he was utterly bewildered by Alec's sudden inquiry. One could almost see the gears turning in Theo's mind, desperately trying to make sense of this bizarre moment. Alec couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt, mixed with amusement at the absurdity of his own lie. It was a witty attempt at diversion, albeit not the smoothest execution.

"What?" Theo exclaimed, finally giving up as he glanced at Liam, before turning to Mason and Corey. "What do you mean, blue or yellow?"

Mason seem to pick up on what Alec was trying to do, and nodded his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "Alec and Corey think that blue is a dumb colour. Which, by the way, it is not. Blue is often associated with peace and tranquility; it invokes a sense of calmness and serenity. And in some cultures, blue is associated with wisdom and intelligence. It is believed to stimulate the mind and encourage clarity of thought."

Liam, catching on nodded. "Exactly! In psychology, blue is associated with feelings of trust, peace, and security. Studies have shown that exposure to blue light can have a calming effect on the brain, reducing anxiety and promoting better sleep."

"Blue is associated with sadness or melancholy, as in the saying 'feeling blue'," Corey interjected, shaking his head. "There's nothing cool about that! But yellow is associated with sunshine, warmth, happiness, and energy. It is a bright and cheerful colour that can evoke feelings of optimism and hope. It's a happy colour, blue is just sad."

"But, too much yellow can be overwhelming and lead to feelings of anxiety or stress," Mason says. "It can be overwhelming and cause eye strain, headaches, and may even make people feel anxious or agitated. Why would you like a colour that can give you headaches?"

Alec let out a sound of outrage. "Yeah, well blue light can do the same thing! Blue light can interfere with the body's natural ability to regulate sleep by suppressing the release of melatonin, a hormone that induces sleep. Prolonged exposure to blue light can also cause digital eye strain, which causes symptoms such as headaches, blurred vision, and dry eyes. And blue light in high doses can damage the retina over time, which can lead to macular degeneration and vision loss. And! Some studies say that exposure to blue light at night may increase the risk of developing breast and prostate cancer, as it disrupts melatonin production, which may have anticancer properties! So there!"

In a fit of passion, Mason jumped to his feet, forcefully slapping his hands down on the booth table. Perhaps he was channeling his inner outrage or just trying to emphasize his point with a touch of flair. Either way, his actions certainly made a statement, leaving everyone in the diner a tad startled. It's only fair to say that Mason's enthusiasm for the argument was undeniably palpable - like a gust of wind sweeping through a peaceful garden. His theatrical display undoubtedly added a dash of spice to the heated discourse. "What about yellow, huh?" He exclaimed, flailing his arms about, causing Corey to duck in order to avoid being hit. "Exposure to too much intense yellow can cause eye fatigue and irritation, especially in individuals with existing eye conditions such as astigmatism or photophobia! Bright yellow can trigger feelings of anxiety or agitation in some individuals, as it is associated with warning signs, such as road safety or caution signs. And studies have found that yellow can reduce appetite, leading to slower digestion and weight loss! People are dying because of the colour yellow!"

Throughout the whole argument, which got extremely heated despite it being about two colours, Theo just sat back, staring open-mouthed at Alec and Mason. His incredulous gaze reflected the sheer audacity and intensity of the clash unfolding before him. The vibrant yellow and the calming blue seemed to have ignited an inexplicable fire within the two, who were vehemently defending their personal preferences as if it were a matter of life and death. While the discussion may have seemed trivial to outsiders, for Theo, it became a spectacle capturing the profound passion that can be stirred by something as seemingly mundane as colours. However, when Mason and Alec turned to face him, he knew they would drag him into it whether he liked it or not.

Theo swallowed, before letting out a sigh. "Fine, I like blue." He says, shrugging his shoulders at the look of outrage on Alec's face. "What? Blue is a calming and soothing colour. Its serene and tranquil nature evokes a sense of relaxation and tranquility. When surrounded by hues of blue, whether it be in a calm ocean or a clear blue sky, I just tend to feel a deep sense of peace and serenity."

[charleneadam]

Remarkable Features of the iPhone 15 Pro Max

The iPhone 15 Pro Max is Apple's latest flagship smartphone, and it's packed with impressive features. Here's a closer look at some of the most notable ones:

Design and Build

The iPhone 15 Pro Max features a sleek and modern design with a titanium frame and Corning-made glass on both the front and back. It's also IP68-rated, making it water and dust-resistant.

The titanium frame is stronger and more durable than aluminum, and it also gives the phone a more premium look and feel. The Corning-made glass is also very durable, and it's resistant to scratches and cracks.

The iPhone 15 Pro Max is also slightly thinner and lighter than its predecessor, the iPhone 14 Pro Max. This makes it more comfortable to hold and use, even for extended periods of time.

Display

The iPhone 15 Pro Max has a stunning 6.7-inch LTPO Super Retina XDR OLED display with a 120Hz refresh rate, HDR10, Dolby Vision, and a peak brightness of 2000 nits. This means that you can enjoy your favorite content in stunning clarity and detail.

The 120Hz refresh rate makes animations look incredibly smooth and fluid. HDR10 and Dolby Vision provide a wider range of colors and brighter contrast, resulting in more realistic and immersive visuals.

The peak brightness of 2000 nits makes the display easy to see, even in bright sunlight. This is especially useful when you're using your phone outdoors or in other well-lit environments.

Performance

The iPhone 15 Pro Max is powered by the latest A17 Pro chip, which is built on a 3nm process. This makes it one of the fastest smartphones on the market, capable of handling even the most demanding tasks with ease.

The A17 Pro chip is also very efficient, so you can expect to get long battery life from the iPhone 15 Pro Max.

Camera System

The iPhone 15 Pro Max has a triple-lens camera system on the back, consisting of a 48MP wide-angle lens, a 12MP periscope telephoto lens with 5x optical zoom, and a 12MP ultrawide lens. This system takes stunning photos and videos in any lighting condition.

The 48MP wide-angle lens captures more detail than ever before, and it also performs better in low light. The 12MP periscope telephoto lens provides 5x optical zoom, which is the most on any iPhone to date. This makes it possible to zoom in on distant objects without losing any detail.

The 12MP ultrawide lens captures a wide field of view, making it perfect for capturing landscapes and group photos.

The iPhone 15 Pro Max also has a new ProMotion camera system that features a faster autofocus system and improved low-light performance.

Video Recording

The iPhone 15 Pro Max can record 4K video at up to 60 frames per second. It also supports HDR10 and Dolby Vision HDR recording.

The new ProMotion camera system also features improved video stabilization, making it easier to capture smooth and steady videos.

Battery Life

The iPhone 15 Pro Max has a large 4422mAh battery that can easily last a full day on a single charge. It also supports fast wired and wireless charging, so you can quickly top it up when needed.

Price

The iPhone 15 Pro Max officially hit the market in September 2023, with an initial price point of 230,000 BDT in Bangladesh. This price applies to the 8GB 256GB variant, while the higher-storage variants are expected to command higher prices. It caters to a wide range of preferences and needs.