#the will they wont they but they will they just need to work out some stuff

[andragoras-in-vanity]

yeah i need to bow out of this post because i have no idea where youre getting your information or how the space animal farms take up is relevant? humans dont need to keep spreading their cities outward and using land thats currently allocated to farms when it could be rehabilitated, plus animals tended to properly actually HELP the land if theyre native to those lands and cared for properly, and farming plants takes up an equal amount of land and resources to grow and farm on the scale needed to replace the meat industry (not even getting into exporting or importing due to climate). i live in a rural area and what your saying would be the case isnt how things have gone here, and the land isnt used and isnt part of any other ecosystem, its just fields anyway and wouldn't (shouldnt) be built on for housing or businesses, so the animals might as well get massive pens to roam

my argument is that reforming the meat industry IS reducing it, and since there just isnt a demand for things like leather goods, less product isnt an issue. without overproduction and consumption the population of animals being kept will drop anyway. small scale farms wont make things worse, and the impacts the meat industry has on the environment dont come from meat farming itself.

if i had the brain power id go through and link the articles to show you what i mean about the difference between the meat industry vs animal farming and the impacts they have cause i dont think im articulating it well, and i dont think i can unless i actually go to one of my local farms and show you how they work when not bound by corporate greed or the government 🙃 but i also know different cultures have different practices so maybe yours actually are that bad even on a small scale?

i do think there needs to be lots more options for personal choice, but i dont think converting entirely to a vegan option is the solution and i do hope that more people will acknowledge veganism as an option for things, but i also want some of the uppity types to realize importing of nuts and plants that arent native in order to sustain vegan diets is a massive issue for the environment too (but i also acknowledge that ive fallen into a lifestyle that means what i eat follows the seasons theyre harvested in so i dont typically buy imported foods, and not everyone can do that)

i argue in favour or small and local so you can verify the quality of the animals lives, the farms, and the products you get from them, rather than doing away with it or even simply reforming it and developing different issues that trickles down from government control (like throwing away tons of milk to create scarcity, not like...health codes involvment). we just need both plant and animal in smaller doses, easier to control the output of harmful effects such as a greenhouse vs massive international shipping operations.

its all just a complicated conversation with no real solution on the horizon until larger conversations are had at higher levels to protect animal rights and the environment without just shifting the same problem to another source. there has to be better ways for all of it to work but so many things need to come first for us to come to those solutions, i just hope we see the shift in our lifetime.

Ayoo just to preempt the inevitable dumb takes we’re about to start seeing;

I am PRO-WOOL

I am PRO-LEATHER

I am PRO-BEES

Fuck the idea of replacing durable, sustainable animal products with cheap, flimsy plastic that doesn’t bio-degrade. Agave nectar and other artificial sweeteners are expensive, labor-intensive, and destroy the environment to be farmed.

Do not buy into pernicious marketing campaigns pushed by dickhead organizations trying to stay relevant, like PETA.

[sleep-0-deprived]

⋆˚࿔Brahms Heelshire thoughts~!𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Taglist: @asher-is-hotxp @unstab1eperson2 @kimisbunny @yyuinaa @silvern1006

A/N: jus some thoughts N’ personal feels bout one of ma fav boys, N’ written specifically for @creepy141dollie <33

𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚—𝜗𝜚

Personally I like thinkin Brahms S’ a big Ol baby, he’s touch starved at’ death N’ when you’re his new baby sitter all he can wonder as’ why’re you a boy? Where’s his nanny at…he’s silent as always creeping through in the walls just watchin the way you do things- he can’t deny how good ya are at all tha domestic stuff, house hubby material S’ what he first thought when he seen ya. You’re a sassy man he can tell that much bout you from the way you scold him and push out your bottom lip when lookin up at him, he doesn’t know how you made it past his old fashioned parents- maybe ya charms work on everyone.

Brahms S’ a total creep, he gives no privacy he stalks ya like a dog, he lurks even when ya ask him not to, he is obsessed all tha time- his infatuation holds no bounds N’ he isn’t afraid T’ watch your most intimate moments in tha shower or when you touch ya’self, Brahms hates when you lecture him, talkin bout how you wont let his cock near you sayin stuff like, “I only reward good boys” even tho knowin you, you’d start T’ feel bad N’ give into him by the end of the night— how could ya not with the way he begs you, his voice cracks N’ you can practically feel his tears behind that porcelain mask.

Bein his babysitter means giving up your life- he’s crazy N’ he’s toxic for you but you can’t bring yourself to leave him…you jus feel bad- he holds you an’ praises you like a god when he wants but he screams N’ throw fits over you when he’s upset— Y’ know you should runaway but you jus can’t- you’re in too far now anyway S’ why even bother to try N’ leave him? Ever since you took that job everything feels cold- the air, Your body N’ it’s all porcelain like, just like his mask. You used T’ love shopping but the most you do is go out into town T’ pick up groceries then ya go back to Brahms…that house has made you isolated from th’ world N’ Brahms doesn’t care at all, he jus wants you to himself.

Brahms is a manipulator, he uses your soft spots to get his ways, he promises all ya wanna hear jus to get you T’ stay. Brahms acts all innocent like he isn’t tha reason for your change in personality N’ he isn’t the reason you’re starting T’ slowly lose that sass, he’s worn ya down into a tired parent like person. Brahms uses his tears T’ wrap you around his finger knowin you can’t resist the way he clings to you like a god, Brahms worships the ground you walk on when you give him what he wants which is to ultimately have you forever.

Brahms S’ pent up all the time, sneakin off into your room when he needs tha love, not Carin bout anything jus getting your shorts down enough T’ shove his dick in ya while you sleepily hiss into the pillows whining bout how he’s bein rough- Brahms whimpers- he try’s ta be quiet but when your hole sucks him back N’ he loses it like a puppy poutin and moaning away on top of you clutching onto you hard while his hips erratically fuck you in ya sheets

Brahms fav position is cowgirl tho it should probably be cowboy W’ you on top- your hand gripping his shoulders working up N’ down taking his cock with ease while his eyes hold contact W’ yours- his breath is shaky N’ he can’t control how weak he feels but somethin bout his fave being covered starin into your soul the whole time has ya buckin down on his cock wildly “please- please, I need you, only you- just you- please” your body melted when those words left his mouth oh so pathetically- how could this be the same man who broke you down? How could he.. before you know it his semen S’ floodin inside you filling ya all full.

[dollyoons]

𝐊𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐙.

━━ 𝓌𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘯 𓈒𓈒𓈒 𝗆𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗓 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌, 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𖥔 𝖿! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝗆𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗅 ౨ৎ 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌2𝗅 ┊ 𝓌𝘢𝘳𝘯. 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁

𝒏𝐨𝐭𝐞. lol sorry for lowkey disappearing on this account...but hey!! enjoy this hehe ^^

MEGAN WAS EXTREMELY CLUMSY, and she knew that. Among her group of friends, she was always voted as the biggest klutz of the group. Not only that, but she was also painfully awkward around other people, even if she didn't mean to make the atmosphere so awkward. 

Though, she supposes that her clumsiness and awkward nature is what got her your number. Was it an ideal situation? No, because accidentally bumping into you—who was the epitome of an angel—and spilling her extremely hot latte on you isn't exactly…the perfect way to meet the love of your life.

Megan had replayed the situation more times than she'd like to admit. It had been a chaotic blur of apologies, napkins, and shock. She expected you to yell, storm off, or at the very least shoot an intimidating glare at her for ruining your shirt (and your day). But instead, you were oddly polite about the whole thing. 

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I swear!” She stammered, quickly grabbing napkins from the nearest table and handing them to you. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, even as you dabbed at your damp top with a resigned sigh. 

Megan looked at you eye to eye, stunned at your simple question. She felt her face growing hotter by the second, feeling like the very same drink that she had spilled on you. “Me? I just dumped an entire drink on you, and you're asking me if I’m okay?!” she blurted, not realizing how stupid she sounded.

But, you only laughed—a soft, warm sound that only made the situation more unbearable. Or maybe it had made it better. Megan wasn't sure.

“Accidents happen,” you said with a shrug. “At least it was a pretty girl who spilled her latte on me, and not some asshole of a guy who would probably blame me!” You giggled, also making Megan let out a small chuckle. 

“But, if it'll make you feel less guilty, maybe you could give me your number? You know, in case I need to send you a dry cleaning bill or something.” 

Megan had agreed far too quickly, rapidly nodding her head as she fumbled for her phone, nearly dropping it twice before successfully typing in her digits. And since then, she's alternated from cringing and crashing out at her own actions and nervously checking her phone for any notification from you. 

Until, it came.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: hey latte girl! it’s y/n :) or, i mean, the one you spilled your latte on the other week lol. hopefully i didn't catch you at a bad time or anything…are you by any chance free this friday though? 

Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at the message, her thumbs hovering hesitantly over her screen. So many thoughts running through her head at once—though she knows she shouldn't be overthinking it. 

The typing bubble popped up on her screen again, indicating that you were typing out another message. 

Ding! 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: sorry if this is a little…weird lmao. it's totally fine if you don't want to meet up on friday or if you have something better to do! 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: i don't wanna sound like a creep at all haha…

She giggled at her screen, feeling a little less nervous to shoot you a reply. Mindlessly, she started typing. 

hey! you aren't weird or a creep at all i promise lmao. friday works for me :) and i swear i wont bring any hot beverages to spill on you this time. 

Your reply came almost immediately. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: LMFAO yeah…i don't think my wardrobe could handle another stain considering how clumsy i am at home. see you at 7? 

Friday at 7 Megan replied, smiling a little too hard at her phone. 

But although she scored a meetup with you, Megan had spent the rest of her week in a haze of nervous anticipation. She couldn't count the amount of times she had called Lara and Daniela to come over and help her plan an outfit. 

She kept telling herself that it wasn't at all a date—but rather a simple hangout over the whole latte incident and that you were just being kind—but deep down, she hoped it was something more. 

Friday came faster than she expected, and Megan found herself standing outside the café you’d suggested, nervously smoothing her top. She was determined to make a better impression this time—no spilled drinks, no awkward stammering, and no clumsy mishaps.

At least, that was the plan. 

“Hey, Latte Girl,” you said with a smile as you approached, and Megan’s heart skipped a beat.

“Hi,” she managed, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. “And, uh, just for the record, I promise to keep all drinks at a safe distance tonight.”

You laughed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Megan didn’t feel awkward or out of place. But rather she felt comfortable and herself being around you. 

And maybe, her clumsiness wasn't a curse at all.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Day 24: Failed escape / Hunted down / Too exhausted to keep running Characters: Otto Mentallis, Caligosto Loboto (Sasha and Milla are there briefly too) Warnings: None Summary: Otto finds something wandering around in his Otto B.O.N. system.

Otto looked up at the sound of insistent beeping, and hummed. He'd been drafting up his plans for a mini astralathe, but the interruption piqued his interest. He recognized the beeping as the warning signal that something was stuck in the Otto B.O.N. system.

Or, not stuck necessarily, but moving very slow, in this case. He'd set up the system so the alarm only sounded if something was either unmoving or had been moving slowly for quite some time—it meant he wouldn't get alerted every time a rat traversed through the tunnels, as they were wont to do. A psychic would be able to travel through rapidly, and an animal that knew where they were going wouldn't take too long in there, so something moving slowly was either a lost non-psychic animal, or, less likely, a person.

With a simple thought, he brought a hovering monitor over, which immediately lit up with a display of the entire Otto B.O.N. system. A dot was blinking in the tunnels between the mail room and dorms—a strange place for a blockage. It wasn't used much anyway, but fortunately the system had automatically shut off the passage, so some poor soul wouldn't be sent careening into a rabid raccoon.

"Well, a little distraction never hurt anyone," he mused, turning to a console and typing in a quick command. One of his drones zipped by, darting into the nearest Otto B.O.N. "Let's see what's going on here."

The screen displaying the map swapped to a video feed from the drone. It easily zipped along the tunnels in the direction of the blockage, and Otto sat back and watched, waiting for the feed to display a lost rabbit or squirrel.

The drone turned a corner, and a pair of bright lights greeted him.

Otto about jumped out of his skin, and the thing, whatever it was, startled just as badly. With a terrible shriek, the lights jumped upward, followed by a BANG of the creature hitting the ceiling of the tunnel. The lights flickered and turned downward, and for a brief moment, the drone's night vision was able to get a good look at what they were dealing with.

It was a human. One in a very large shower cap and a very worn out apron. Strange, he looked remarkably similar to the person that Sasha had been holding in his...

Otto blanched.

Oh dear.

"Oooh..." came the man's groan through the video feed. His head suddenly shot up, coming just short of bashing against the ceiling again. "NO! Yyyyou're nnnot gonna catch mmme again!" he cried in slurred tones. With that, he attempted to turn around, nearly getting his overly-long legs stuck in the process. But he managed it, scrambling away from the camera on all fours.

Pressing a hand to his temple, Otto reached out. Sasha, we have a problem.

Otto? What's the matter?

I believe you've lost something.

Yes. Loboto, I'm aware. ...Didn't I tell you this?

Otto winced. I might've been busy. The point is, I've found him.

Immediately Sasha became more alert. Good work. Where is he?

Currently... in the Otto B.O.N. system. He's been down there for probably a day or so, if his slur is anything to work off of.

How did he—nevermind. There was a quiet tisk from the other side of the connection. Do you have a way of retrieving him?

Possibly. Keying in a few more commands, he locked every single Otto B.O.N. entrance but the one in the mail room and the one in his own lab. I'll need backup. I need you and Milla to meet me at the entrance to the mail room, but try to keep a crowd from forming.

We'll do what we can.

Nodding, Otto turned back to the camera feed. The man was already well on his way in the direction of the mail room, but there were several more branches leading from there. With a few more taps on the keyboard, multiple drones entered the Otto B.O.N., heading for the mail room through multiple different routes. There was a chance this wouldn't work—cornered animals had attacked the drones before—but he'd rather do this before he went to the more extreme measure of pushing the poor man through via a cleaning machine. Once the drones were in, he locked the Otto B.O.N. entrance in his lab, and bolted out.

Focusing his psychic powers through his pendant, he managed enough buoyancy to levitate over the flooded quarry and to the Motherlobe entrance. His hurried manner garnered several stares from nearby workers as he bolted into the building, ignoring the receptionist and heading straight for the lev-lift and, from there, the mail room.

"In a hurry, Agent Mentallis?" a curious worker asked as he passed.

"Yes," he answered, and, thinking quickly, added, "I'm receiving an important delivery and needed to see to it right away."

That quenched the curiosity of those observing him, even as Sasha and Milla approached. Otto waved them into the mail room but had them stop just within the door. "Wait here. If he sees too many people, he may panic."

"I understand," Milla said with a nod. "The poor thing."

He headed further down into the mail room, where Lori raised an eyebrow at him from the window in her office. He waved her off. "Not to worry! I'm just flushing something out of the Otto B.O.N. system."

Lori made a noise of disgust. "I didn't even know we had one of those in here! And you're chasing a wild animal into here?!"

"Of course not! It's just—"

A muffled howling noise erupted from somewhere beneath them. Otto and Lori exchanged glances before the woman rolled her eyes and stepped out of her office. "Well, whatever it is, you are cleaning up after it. I'm going on break." With that, she headed back up toward the atrium.

Frowning, Otto approached a pile of unsorted packages and TK'd them aside to reveal the rarely-used Otto B.O.N. hatch. Before he could do anything else, the hatch slammed open, and he jumped back as someone scrambled out of the tunnel. He quickly TK'd the hatch shut again as the person shakily rose to his feet, breathing heavily.

"Wh... where?" Loboto slurred, his optics turning slowly as he took in his surroundings. His eyes adjusted a few times before clicking as they focused on the Psychonauts logo on a nearby package.. "AH! Nnno, not here!"

"I'm afraid so," Otto said, and with a swipe of his TK hand, he snagged Loboto off the ground.

"NO! NOOOO!" Loboto wailed, flailing in Otto's grasp. "LET ME GOOO!"

Sighing, Otto placed his hand on his temple. He's a bit rowdy, but I caught him. Have some food and water taken to your lab and I'll meet you there.

Excellent work, Otto.

Loboto, meanwhile, continued to scream.

"Settle down, now," Otto said, carrying him up toward the atrium. "You've been crawling around there far too long, and you need some food and water."

"LET ME—oh, th-that would be nice, actually." Finally the man went limp. Now that he was still, Otto took note of the dark circles under his optics. Or perhaps that was his natural state?

He nearly informed the man that they would continue to analyze him a while longer, but, not wanting to hear that awful screaming again, he decided that could wait. With that, he gently carried the subject back to Sasha's lab.

[sapphicfandompirate]

Experience: Midwest US and Sweden

Mud rooms are a thing. They're a life saver for trying to clean dog paws, and leaving muddy shoes. Covered porches are more common tho, and can be either in the back or front of house. Some people keep their washer/dryer there.

Most houses here are built for snow, so there isn't a ton of prep. Mainly it's prepping for the power or water to go out. Especially if a snow or ice storm is forecast.

Ceiling fans have a summer and winter mode. There should be a switch on them. It helps keep the warm air circulating.

Furnaces smell terrible the first time they turn on. Your house Probably isn't burning down. (it smells like hot dust)

Asthmatics have it bad. The Asthma Cough is real. Wheezing is just life now.

Various tips:

Water pipes have to stay warm or they'll freeze. If they freeze, they'll burst, then it will flood. Set up a space heater if you need to, or wrap them in towels.

Cars will need snow tires. Trucks want weight in the back end (and snow tires). Keep the wipers up so they don't freeze. Keep a first aid kit, water, and blankets in the car. Use four wheel drive or all wheel drive if you have it, and don't forget to lock the hubcaps. Don't attempt steep hills if you can avoid it.

Always have snow melts/salt/kitty litter on your porch and in your car to melt snow/ice. Keep snow shovels on hand. Doors should open inward. If they open outward, maintain snow shoveling at regular intervals, otherwise you wont be able to open the door if you get more than about 6 inches of snow.

Snow plows will bury your car in snow when they clear the roads. Or the end of your driveway. You'll need to tunnel yourself out.

Vehicles shouldn't preheat for more than about 10 minutes, its bad for the engine.

Some places sell a long bag thing you can set against the door to reduce drafts. Towels work too. Blankets and plastic wrap over windows help.

If Celsius and Fahrenheit agree on the temperature, stay home

Its not the cold that gets you, its the wind. Seriously, 5F without wind and 5F with wind are different weather conditions. Wind is when you really need a scarf. 40 MPH winds are Hell Itself.

In the Midwest, there is always that one dude in shorts. Always.

Also in the Midwest, it can snow one day and then be 60F the next. The snow is confused too. (Usually in spring)

In Sweden, it can and will snow and/or hail in May, just to keep you on your toes.

Dogs can wear snow shows and they are adorable. They shouldn't be out in extreme cold temperatures for more than like 10 minutes. Ice and ice melts/salt is bad for paws. Keep claws trimmed.

Pay attention to the news and whether or not roads are open. If you aren't sure, don't attempt it.

Penguin walking on black ice is a thing. Dont care how you look if you don't fall on your ass.

Hail don't play around. It can knock you out. It can knock windows out, roof tiles off, ect.

Snow dampens noise, so it is always very quiet. It also makes the sky lighter, even at night.

It gets night at like 5 pm in the Midwest. 2 pm in Sweden (and the sun rises at 9 am). Pick up some vitamin D. Its also beautiful. But cold.

If you think you'll lose power there's several steps to take:

Fill a bath tub or buckets with water for extra water, useful if you can't flush the toilet or if you need extra water

Fill water bottles or gallon/liter bottles to keep them in the freezer/fridge. The ice will help keep everything cold. You want the freezer filled to the brim. Fridge too.

Keep extra bottled water on hand, at least 1 gallon/per day/per family member, including pets.

With enough time to spare, fill a cup of water and put it in your freezer. Once it freezes, place a coin on top. If you lose power, once it turns back on you can decide what needs to be kept/thrown away. If the coin is halfway, most stuff is probably fine, except meat. If the coin is on the bottom, then toss it all. Better safe than sorry. This is good if you are going on vacation too.

If the power does go out:

Pile everyone into one room that has a door. Block the door and windows and try to conserve heat.

Most gas stoves can be used even if you don't have electricity! Turn the knob to "light" then use a long lighter to manually light a fire.

NEVER USE THE STOVE TO HEAT YOUR HOUSE. Use it to warm up food, make a pot of tea, then shut it off. You don't want carbon monoxide poisoning. In that same vein, NEVER RUN A GENERATOR INDOORS. Keep that stuff outside, preferably in a shed that isn't connected to your home. Propane is also a think if you don't have natural gas hook ups. Never inside.

Keep canned food and shelf staple foods on hand. Keep extra medications, baby food, diapers, toilet paper, ect on hand.

If I think of more, I'll add some!

Contrary to popular belief there is in fact snow in California and I have been to the snow. For most Californians we’ve gotta visit the snow. We go to the snow, the snow doesn’t come to us. There are some Californians who live in the snow but they live in really rural areas in the mountains or far up north.

All of this is to say that I’ve seen snow. I’ve walked in snow. I’ve kept warm in a snowstorm. I’ve slipped on black ice and seen The Slush but I haven’t lived it long term.

So part of the book I’m writing takes place in the bit of winter just before spring when there’s The Slush and black ice forms overnight and I’m having to Google some things like do you have to prepare a house for snow and are mud rooms real and at what point is a scarf mandatory for your lungs to not freeze over and can there be snow and spring at the same time I’m not sure

[rozenphox]

c’MON dick

[bacchuschucklefuck]

Riz has counted four casseroles this week alone. Five, if one goes by the method of cooking, but Yelen's scary when she's crossed, and calling her burek by its proper name is important to her, so Riz does her the courtesy and doesn't include it in his mental tally.

He holds the tupperware over his head to keep it out if the way as he takes careful steps over the piles of notes in his path. The dockman case just closed, relevant documentations handed over to relevant personnels, evidences dealt with as needed; all he has lying around now is just record of the process and traces of himself thinking through it. Unsurprisingly they still haven't invented a surface more convenient for people under five feet who like to pace to put pieces of paper on than the ground.

Actual records go into the case folder with the other documents. Anything else with at least one side still blank is going to the school kids in the block - they chew through an astounding amount of paper just learning arithmetic. The rest is for the recycling basket.

Later. It's his mandated lunch break right now.

Riz sits down in front of the corner file cabinet. In an office often overrun with papers and strings and sometimes even thumbtacks, he's never really managed to clutter up this exact square of surface like every other ones. Ever since the bottom drawer rattled for no discernible reason a day long past, his eyes have always just kinda decided to slide across the space without acknowledging it.

It's years out, now. Riz doesn't know why he thought it such a big deal anymore, back then. He wasn't scared, he doesn't think. Not anymore. Maybe just uncomfortable with the idea that certain things persist despite all efforts to change.

He opens the tupperware. Dame Carabelle's experiment greets him with enough spice in the aroma alone to knock out a small mammal. When he chopped the vegetables for this casserole he couldn't really imagine the eventual heft of it, evident even through just these few ladles' worth, maybe weighing heavier for being still warm. His folk eat more through the smell and the textures and the aftertastes than the taste itself. His folk's meal is really the cooking rather than the eating. The eating is the meal's end.

"Hey," he tells the file cabinet's bottom drawer. "Um."

It's the anniversary. Riz doesn't know the exact date of his dad's death; nobody currently alive does. He and Mom both use the date of the funeral, though as he moved out to Bastion and then got more directly involved with Interplanar he hasn't really been going to Dad's grave as much. Doesn't seem like very efficient use of his time, catching a train or borrowing a car or spending a whole spell slot on going somewhere he knows Dad isn't at. They're sorta coworkers now. They talk on and off every other week between missions. When he goes now, it's just to clean up the place, keeping the landmark tidy and respectable.

Without that work to mark the date he doesn't really know what it serves anymore. But he still remembers it. Still takes note, absently or not, when it comes around.

There's not really a good way to tell the drawer that. Riz looks for another way to start the... conversation, hopefully. The question at play, he'd guess, is why he's doing this. He's been pretty content ignoring all the rattlings and the knocks from inside and the times it sits slightly ajar without him ever opening it himself; hell, he still uses the three drawers on top of it. Space is fucking precious in Bastion.

Precious enough to finally fix this damn drawer so he gets his turn to use it? Riz asks himself. Is that what we're getting to? Then he dismisses the thought - he didn't manage to fix it the times he actually tried, let alone-- now. When he doesn't really care that much to.

That's probably a good place to start. "'s fine if you keep being in there, turns out," Riz says.

The lunch hours are quiet in the block, sleepy and bright with the brief window of sunlight that manages to break through roof overhangs and extended balconies and laundry lines and climbing vines. Riz's work isn't loud here (the loud parts happen away from his office, if everything goes right), but the fragment of early summer heat reflected in the steady warmth his meal still carries compels him to lower his voice even more. It makes the words feel intimate, in a way he's never been familiar with - if he says something he just says it. He doesn't whisper. If he gives his friends something, he gives it open-palm. He's found out, along the way, that people usually don't think of rituals and courtesies the way he does.

Small voice for a diminished monster. "You know why I think so?" Riz asks. "Because almost two decades ago you kidnapped me and almost killed me, and now you rattle a drawer in my office."

It doesn't sound as much like a taunt as Riz wanted it to; the drawer has made a lot of noises again this morning when he checked the calendar, and he was definitely annoyed at it. Now, though, facing it like this after cooking the whole morning with more grandparents and peers from the block than he can count on both hands to cater for a tenant union meeting, he thinks the annoyance has morphed. Changed shape.

It has the shades of something like pity. Riz is not prone to pity, and especially not at these kinda matters. It's slightly maddening that he coheres perfectly outside of this one spot. That he commands his spaces, except for a drawer.

He puts the tupperware onto the floor between himself and the cabinet. "I know we're aware it's the anniversary," he says at the drawer. "You do this every year. You make a ruckus every time I decide to go do my job instead of mooching off my friends' aircon, and every time I get an invitation to some stupid social thing I want to turn down, and every time one of the old people tries to introduce me to a child or a nibling, because being a bachelor over thirty is weird," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I have three fucking jobs. I love doing my fucking jobs. I'm forcing funds into infrastructures. You're never leaving, are you."

The drawer vibrates lightly. It's a very, very mild acknowledgement, considering the history of reactions Riz has gotten from this thing. Riz thinks it's emanating joyous agreement, or satisfaction.

It only sharpens the pity. Riz doesn't like that, but it's how it is. That's, ultimately, the lesson he's been taught over and over and over again, just by existing as himself, turned every which way by space after space that don't see him eye-to-eye: it's not like he'd quit living over any of it. It's not like any of it can sand off these fundamental pieces of him.

He's outgrown a lot of things, he's found out. Again, and again, and again. A childhood home, a yearly trip, a monster.

"'s probably scary for you, huh?" He asks. "Because I left."

He thinks he hears joints creak that sound like you did. Probably the way a scorned lover would say it, in a movie or a yellowback. He has no more connection to the idea than he did as a kid. Less, because it doesn't even scare him.

"That's what it is, right? That it's the anniversary, and I'll never be like Dad." He raises a knee from the floor, pulls it back closer to him. Slings an arm over it. "You love to remind me. The thing is, Dad also left. He loved Mom and he loved me, and none of us wanted it to happen, but it still did. Because love does fuckall to make anyone stay on its own."

He's long past being bitter about it. It's just the facts. Once upon a time he looked into the future and the specter of his friends' happily-ever-after casted lightless, fathomless shadow over him. Love, marriage, that kind of devotion, to a fifteen-year-old with more solved cases than friends seemed so eternal. Final.

But you can only watch your friends build up apps' worth of jilted lovers for so long before getting over it.

"You know what I learned?" Riz tells the drawer. "Love doesn't make anyone stay. Project management does."

He stands up, and picks up the tupperware of Dame Carabelle's casserole, that he helped make, that he helped share with a block's worth of neighbors and members of a community he's at home with, and goes sit at his desk to eat. "Last chance to get any," he drops an offer over his shoulder as he walks away.

He doesn't eat all of his share in one go. What he's spared he leaves on the desk when going outside for a smoke break. Baron looks the exact same as when he saw them last, when he catches a glimpse; they haven't grown at all. They aren't there when he comes back inside, but the leftover has gone days-old cold, like someone's sucked the future out of it.

[0rchidm4ntis]

We'll be alright.

[whiteeyes-is-a-mad-scientist]

very very true. Ive been re reading the books at work and all romance is just kinda tacked on. It doesnt really flow with characters or the story.

I wont lie there are some cute scenes. I enjoyed riptide helping tsunami with aquatic but out of all ships tui has tried the only one I really like is mangrove and orchid... its probably because there meeting and falling in love was off screen.

I love tuis work with friendships and sibling bonds but I feel they get overshadowed by her attempts at romance :( for example i feel arc 2 would have been such a cool arc to see friendship this between the winglet but there is just this constant out of no where crushes. Tui could still do crushes within the winglet but she needed more of them strengthening their friendship before all that.

SHOW me a reason to have them go "oh I have a crush on *insert character*" cause i dont like how much it is (usually) the character going "I dont know why, maybe because theyre pretty and smart and funny and strong and and and"

im rambling again about a kids book lol but still 💀

ive come to the conclusion that tui is just bad at writing romance. no point in arguing which ones better all of these ships suck equally we can go home now

.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Pet store clerk gives Charles a bag of free treats for his ""dog"" all while Charles can feel Erik Looming in the BG

the real mortifying day is after months of getting small bags of dog treats one day the bag of dog treats has like. perfectly normal human candies/pastries or something inside

Of Course charles is confused and impulsively asks what it is/how it's different from the usual only for the clerk to reply theyre Whatever Erik's Favorite Treat Is and its that day forward erik is adamant they just do their shopping online

[faaun]

ive talked to a lot of ppl who have taken vyvanse now and i think ik a bit more on how i need to live on it

[ellraiser]

not content with controlling the climate we're controlling the weather now too

[bird-likes-to-fandom]

painting deer. hard.

[em-b-sides]

I think about that tiktok trend where you like paint your partners eye color on your nails or make a bracelet or something with the color a lot actually

[natjennie]

anyone else out here a middle child saddled with eldest daughter responsibilities?

[savage-rhi]

Fuchgenta??