#unrelated to all of this but carrot scares me

[pbaintthetb]

Characters who have the luck of the devil on their side because they're just that damn charismatic vs those who have it because the universe just likes them that damn much.

This is about Moist vs Carrot from discworld btw

[canon-transgender-virgil]

ALRIGHT I HAVE SOME TIME SO LET'S TALK ABOUT THIS (also shut up i only noticed the typo when i was taking this screenshot-)

Okay, so I noticed a common theme in all the videos that orange (or Orange) is in: right after you see the color orange, you can see some form of shame or embarrassment in one of the characters.

Let me explain.

Let's take the flash card scene from Learning New Things About Ourselves.

As many people know, right when you see Logan crumple up the flashcard in his hand (like the upwards POV shot), you can see orange light coming from up the stairs. Many people (as I've pointed out, like, three times now) believe this to be the first time we see Orange show up.

Now, logically, many people take seeing the color orange show up when someone is visibly angry to mean that Orange is the representation of anger, but I think I disagree.

Look at Logan's face immediately after the flashcard hits Roman.

That's not anger. That face says a lot of things, but it doesn't say rage. It says, most notably, "I wish I hadn't done that".

AND! I can't believe I forgot about this but Logan literally says "I do regret throwing that paper at puppet Roman" in the Five Years Later episode! He says the words "I regret throwing the paper"!!

I'm going to get back to the Five Years Later video later but keep that in your mind.

I wouldn't put much thought into this if it was just a one off thing, but it's not - Logan's not even the only who exhibits this sort of behavior!

In Putting Others First, what is the first live action scene we see (that isn't the recap of course)?

That's orange. That is Thomas bathed in orange.

And again, Thomas may be angry here but this anger is mainly directed at himself for letting himself go to the wedding and not the callback!

Patton I feel is in the same boat, where he regrets or else is embarrassed by not being able to answer "Logan's" questions (for context here, Lilypadton's eyes are orange).

And then there's Working Through Intrusive Thoughts.

Logan was mad of course, but I think, once again, this is more so the regret of not putting his foot down earlier and making Thomas listen to him (hence the lashing out not thirty seconds before Thomas decides to abandon their plan).

Alright, on to a more solid bit of proof: the Five Years Later video.

There is a whole segment in this episode about C!Thomas and the other characters talking about their regrets.

Aside from the aforementioned Logan's regret of throwing the paper at Roman, there were some other notable reactions to this question:

Roman's regret of making Thomas go to the wedding in the first place (cementing my earlier point that that wasn't fully anger on Thomas's face but rather regret about the situation entirely) is a major one, but then there's Virgil's entire CVS receipt of a list (ranging from "boiled carrots" to "achieving consciousness" - mans is full of regret), to Roman's mirrored regret from Logan's about wishing he'd thrown something at Logan before Logan got the chance to throw the flashcard at him, to Janus's regret of "lack of attention to detail" (which, while unrelated to this discussion, I thought was an interesting point to make before the release of the season finale - hopefully we get to see more disguised Janus content in the finale? 👀👀 )

It's also interesting to note that in the Five Years Later video Remus is the only one who doesn't have any regrets about, you know, anything. That makes sense obviously in the context of who Remus is as a character but it also tracks that the one of the only characters who doesn't seem threatened or scared of the Orange Side has no regrets.

This is all I have for now, but if anyone would like to add on to this please do.

[iguessitsjustme]

All The Liquors - Ep 3 &4 Drunk Thoughts

Not nearly drunk enough yet but time waits for no man so let’s get going. I’ll get drunker as I watch. Under the cut for length:

-Oh yeah his armmmm. I’d be working with one arm. I’ve done it before. It’s not easy but it can be done.

-My apartment is very loud right now…well neighbors and the street are loud and I do not know how to process that and the show at the same time. This is gonna be slow going.

-I want very spicy Korean food and I still want to try soju. Someone come over and we can order Korean food and soju and have a BL marathon.

-Oooooh these colors. They’re in red and blue. I cannot stop thinking about this now. Does @respectthepetty have any thoughts on this. I will have to search them out as soon as I’m done.

–Don’t listen in on someone’s phone call like that. My guy that’s creepy. I love you but that’s an invasion of the all too important bubble.

-This dude just helping our chef boy. This is cute. Kind of. Something about this scenario is nagging at me but I can’t figure out what it is.

-Why is everyone so damn invested in this restaurant serving alcohol?

-Oh chef boy is impressed with our alcoholic’s food knowledge. Why was it not an issue that he offered alcohol though? What’s happening.

-This show would go much different if that one character did not injure his arm.

-I like this song. It’s pretty and it’s calming and I feel so relaxed. I want to listen to it and write essays and pretend like I’m a college student again.

-This show would make a lot more sense if we had any insight as to why chef boy was so insistent on no alcohol. Then maybe the barriers that our alcoholic boy are breaking down would make sense and seeing it happen real time wouldn’t be confusing.

-Now the song reminds me of playing mario. Very fitting for this March 10.

-Unrelated to anything but man oh man I wish I could burp.

-Why the fuck do I need to see someone on the toilet in every show I watch? Can I not be spared even once.

–Oh he fell again. He should stop that.

-Still digging the music in this show. Fuck yeah. This song can get it

-I think I am drunker than I think I am

-I am now on episode 4. I need to plug in my laptop but I am scared I will fall off of my seat if I reach down for it. Pray for me.

-Starts off with our alcoholic falling again. He should stop that. How is he not the one that’s been injured.

-Is it a BL if they don’t end up on swings? Actually a lot of them don’t end up on swings. But there is definitely a good number that end up on swings.

-The swing ropes are red and green. What could that mean??? I’m not good with colors. Especially not while drunk and not even trying tbh.

-Ki Hoon. His name is Ki Hoon. I should learn that. Chef boy is Ki Hoon.

-Who cleaned those clams?

-Han Ji Yoo. That’s the alcoholic’s name. I should learn that too. Ji Yoo.

-I should drink water.

-Why is this boss a dick and downplaying Ji Yoo’s abilities? “I’m not sure he’ll be much help.” Bruh that’s not how you manage.

-HOW DID HE FALL YET AGAIN. Get this boy some work shoes pronto. He should be wearing appropriate shoes in the kitchen.

-The sexual tension while covered in clam juice is a bit much for me.

-I am fine until I try to move and then I am suddenly reminded that I am drunk.

-Where are the rest of their ingredients? My dudes cooked a meal with just carrots and onions.

-Why won’t this boy drink? I need ANSWERS. 

-THAT WAS FAST MY DUDE. You’re ready to just abandon your beliefs and just start drinking? Is it your beliefs your abandoning? I don’t even know because I have no context for your alcohol apprehension. WHICH IS VALID. I just don’t know whyyyyy. It seems like it should be a bigger deal that you’re drinking than this show is making it.

-Oh my god the hiccups. I am now accepting thoughts and prayers.

-There was no hesitation to him drinking that. My god. 

-IS HE DRUNK ALREADY? AFTER JUST THAT? My god I thought *I* was a lightweight.

-He must have a severe alcohol intolerance. But that doesn’t explain why he won’t serve it.

-I know the hidden meaning of asking someone if they want ramen. Even when I’m drunk. There was a double meaning there my dudes. Now stare intensely into each other’s eyes.

-Actually obsessed with the ending song and I WILL be listening to it on a loop don’t worry about it. [god I hope I can find it]

[og-danny-dorito]

[ Haikyuu!! Characters As Vibe Checked By Me But It’s Only The One’s I’ve Seen Before ]

i literally haven’t watched a single second of this anime but here���s my vibe check of the characters i’ve seen. might upload a part 2 but idk

✨🥕carrot boy🥕✨ :

- B A B E Y

- LOOK AT H E

- he smile,,, he p u r e

- arguably my favorite out of all of the ones on this list just because he’s so fucking CUTE

- i want to give him a gentle kith on the cheek and a juice pack and tell him he’s doing alright in life cause he looks like he needs daily doses of affection to function through the day

- a friend told me he looks scary when he’s mad and like?? i can kinda see it he has that vibe but not by much

- probably gay for the taller emo dude he hangs out with that calls him “boke”

- he looks like he doesn’t know where babies come from

- overal rating 1000/10 hes very cute

🦉 boy :

- idk who the protagonist is but i have a feeling it’s this mfer just from how weird his hairstyle is

- gives me golden retriever energy with a hint of fuckboy in there purely because people simp HARD for him

- why does he look like that though like??

- i’m not COMPLAINING like i’d let him hit it for free but why is he serving Owl Realness? bird entergy? like he was probably an owl in a past life and still gets scared when he sees foxes or big dogs

- he looks like he yells unintentionally

- probably gives really good hugs

- also has no idea where babies come from, but he has the decency to pretend like he does

- 9/10 solely because i dont like birds and he looks like one

✨wtf✨ :

- the only thing i know him from is that clip of him laughing and all i can say is: w h y

- ya’ll thirst over him,,, and for what?

- like yeah he looks like the only somewhat grown one out of this list so far but,,,

- there’s so many things that i have questions about and hypothetically i don’t think i’d be receiving good answers for them

- OH WAIT i also know him from that “oya oya” clip with owl boy

- i feel like i’d wanna fight this dude but get my ass BODIED within the first five seconds

- ive deduced that anyone who likes him probably has daddy issues no i will not be taking constructive criticism

- 5/10 i dont like the way he’s looking at me

tennis ball 🎾🏸 :

- i want to hit him.

- no like i dont think you know how strong my urge is to just clock this mf

- like you know the fight or flight sense? yeah im skipping that second one we goin straight to fight

- i dont know if he’s sleep deprived or only puts eyeliner under his eyes but regardless he looks intimidating

- from my extensive knowledge of anime tropes i have a feeling that he’s actually really sweet and kind and all that shit but like

- i dont know what it is about him that makes me want to throw hands but it’s there

- fuck this guy 4/10

✨🥕carrot boy’s🥕✨ brunette twin :

- EXACT same vibes as carrot boy but with a hint of chaotic dumbass in there

- he looks like he eats oreos by taking apart the cream filling and then putting the cookies back in the container for “later” when he’s just gonna leave them there for 3 months

- he kinda looks like a toned down doctor stone for some reason

- has short person energy

- also probably a twink cause like,,, look at him

- he’s not exactly pure but like he looks like he’s impossibly nice to people

- like he looks like people subconsciously adopt him left and right just because he gives off unguided child energy

- helps old ladies cross the street and is probably really good at taking care of children

- 10/10 very cute

michael? is that you? :

- kinda unrelated but why does michael jackson keep getting reincarnated as different flavors of anime boy? like is there a reason?

- hee hee lookin ass bitch 🕴🏻🕴🏻🕴🏻

- he looks like he moonwalks wherever he goes

- also apparently he’s a germaphobe? which like,,, same so i get it but at the same time he looks like the kinda dude to have about 50 of those little germ-x pouches hanging off of every bag he owns

- i can just tell from glancing at him that he’s dead inside

- look at those eyes. he’s seen everything the world has to offer and feels nothing now because of it

- calls people “filthy peasant” unironically

- 3.5/10 you’re just a mj in a different font but get a half a point cause i like your face

[ Thanks For Reading! ]

[m-feys]

Piece of Home

| Avatar: The last Airbender fic | words ~1800 | Sokka & Katara | Water Siblings Week prompt - Homesick | set while hiding in the Fire Nation |

-

Aang had already wandered off to get water as per Katara’s request and Toph had ambled off to, “check the perimeter,” as she put it, politely ignoring Katara’s requests to go get more firewood in favor of whatever she was doing. Probably actually checking the perimeter, considering the kind of territory they were in. It was just them at camp now, with Sokka almost through with putting up the tent while Katara started on the food.

As soon as the tarp was in place (no need for extra blankets, it was hot enough in the Fire Nation already) he stepped back and arched his back in a stretch before turning around to bother Katara.

“What’s cooking?” he asked, coming to stand behind her and leaning his hand on the top of her head fondly, knowing it would annoy her. Of course, he already knew what she was going to make, options were limited, especially with them having just landed. Sokka would help her peel the potato-carrots while the water warmed up and then she would make a stew with the meager seasonings they had left over and a small serving of rice to go with it, rationed out from their time on the run since Ba Sing Se.

Maybe if he got the chance to hunt tomorrow they would have something more, save for Aang, who would just have to wait until they could visit the market.

He waited for her to snipe back something like: ‘Nothing for you if you don’t get off me!” It never came. Instead she was silent, and the spark rocks were left unused in her hands, the fire still unlit in front of her.

He pulled his hand away and dropped into a crouch beside her, suddenly concerned. “Hey, you good?”

She still said nothing, but then she turned her head to look at him, eyes shining with tears in the wane moonlight, panic spiked in his chest. His little sister was hurt but, where? How?

His eyes darted to get a quick look over her where she was sitting beside the fire wood but he couldn't see any obvious reasons for pain, no visible wounds. 

“Katara what’s wrong?” he asked urgently.

She blinked and looked back down at her hands, eyes still so watery.

“I’m just— ” she tried to speak, breath shaking. She hesitated then, her brows pinching thoughtfully before she went on, “Sokka, do you ever… miss home?”

His heart dropped then, in relief, that’s what this was, homesickness.

He let out a breath and shifted so he was kneeling down beside her a little more comfortably.

“Yeah, of course I do,” he answered, waiting for her to go on. Because with Katara it was usually best to just be patient and let her get it out on her own.

“Do you think we’ll ever get to go home?” She whispered, so breathless and the words took the breath out of him too. He looked at her sharply then, eyes pulled wide.

He had no answer, because, ‘I always planned on dying for this war, for my people, my home, the world, and for you,’ was not an answer to give his little sister, and no way he was going to lie to her either.

He had nothing. He’d always promised himself to protect her but really, what could he do? He had no bending, he couldn’t keep her out of this fight, and he had no way of actually shielding her from anything. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t even promise his little sister he would get her home safe, when she was so scared. He was useless.

He could only look at her, gutted, and flounder for something, anything, to console her with.

And then Katara was the one doing the talking, saving him again, exactly how his younger sister shouldn’t have to. She was his responsibility and he was failing.

“I keep thinking about my furs, we lost them a while ago and it’s really stupid, but I used to bury my face in them when I was feeling like this,” there’s silent tears dripping down onto her hands now, head bowed towards her lap and the sight of it pulls him out of his own head, back to what’s important. He puts a comforting hand on her shoulder and waits once more.

They hadn’t needed their furs since they left the North Pole, he hadn’t even known Katara had been doing that. How long had he gone unaware of this? They lost them back in the desert, along with Appa, of course Katara never would have said anything.

“And I miss Gran Gran so much,” she said, letting out a sob with the words now, the dam breaking fully and he leaned closer to her to wrap an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him too, “I want to curl up with her by the fire while we eat and show her everything I learned, but what if I never see her again?” She said brokenly, turning her head to look at him again suddenly, tears streaming down her face and a fragile desperation in her eyes.

“What if— what if we do get home,” she started, “but it takes too long? What if we do get home but she’s already dead?” She asked of him.

Sokka let out a shuddering breath of his own, tugging her closer then, and pressing his head to hers, it was so he wouldn’t have to see that look on her face and just as much so she couldn’t see the look on his, see how close he was to breaking.

“Don’t talk like that. Okay, Katara?” he said immediately, because this was all wrong he was supposed to be the pessimistic one here, she wasn’t ever supposed to have to bear the burden of thinking like that, but right now she was and he wished more than anything he could take it away.

“No matter what happens,” he said, voice breaking for a moment as warmth gathered in his eyes, but he took a breath and controlled his voice more carefully as he went on, “no matter where we go, Mom, and Dad, and Gran Gran. they’re all with us in a way, you know?” He said, everything felt like an uphill battle and this was no different, he just wished he could be more adequate when it came to consoling his sister, if nothing else.

She’d dropped the rocks now and had her hand resting on the hollow of her throat as she sniffed and sobbed, their Mother’s (grandmother’s) necklace wasn’t there, however. She’d had to take it off when they started hiding out in the Fire Nation.

He held her close to his side and smoothed a hand down her hair.

“You know,” he said, leaning away just enough to look down at her, petting a hand through her hair as he spoke and feeling vulnerable as he spoke about something he’d kept, more or less, locked away for the last year. 

“Whenever I get worried, I look up, and I ask Yue to watch over them for me,” he says at a whisper. It was never fair, because he had been meant to watch over her and he’d failed. But he only ever asked her to check in on them, make sure they were doing alright, smiling down on them in her moonly ways. He glanced up to see the moon in it’s waxing crescent form, it seemed to glow brighter in that moment, but he knew it was only a trick of his eyes.

“Do you think she’s seen home?” Katara asked in return, sounding worn down and rung out.

“Well, the moon is in the sky at home so yeah, I would guess she’s seen it,” he answered wryly, smiling at her sadly.

“What do you think she thinks of it?”

Sokka paused and pondered over that for a moment, “I think she probably likes how the people there all depend on each other, and she probably would be amazed to meet Gran Gran, especially if she knew about how she came to the Southern Water tribe.”

“And she probably laughed at your stupid watchtower,” Katara spoke then, smiling up at him slightly, eyes still puffy and cheeks still shining with tears as she looked at him through the waves of hair hanging around her face.

“Hey,” he objected mildly, shaking her against him slightly, “I worked hard on that watchtower,” he countered, falsely offended. He thought back to the fish he’d carved for her that looked like a bear and guessed Katara was probably right, Yue might giggle and smile that charmed smile to see their home. But only in a way that was kind, because she seemed to radiate kindness.

“She would have really liked it,” he said, seriously, and honest, because it’s true.

“Yeah,” Katara agreed, ”and when we get home,” she went on, softly and he didn’t miss the fact that she said it with that reliable certainty she usually had. “You can tell her about how everything’s changed when I get back to rebuild with my bending.”

“Yeah?” He asked, smiling down at her head hopefully now.

“Yeah,” she agreed, shifting her head to look at him directly now and smiling back with that icy, unrelenting, stubborn look in her eye, the one that meant she was determined to do something no matter what.

He sighed, “good,” he said, lifting his hand now to brush away the wetness on her face, though he knew she could do it more efficiently herself with bending, but this was one small thing he could do for her. Gran Gran did the same, and further back where the memories got fuzzy it was their mom, who brushed away their tears and held them close.

“I should probably start the fire,” she sighed, though she still had yet to pick the spark rocks up again. He hummed thoughtfully, normally, he was the one to keep them on schedule and made sure that they all ate and promptly got some sleep after landing but right now he knew that wasn’t what she needed.

“You know,” he started, “if you want to feel at home, you could just freeze everything and walk around shivering.”

At that she snorted a laugh, “shut up, Sokka,” she suggested happily as she pushed at him slightly.

“I’m just throwing out ideas here,” he defended mildly, smirking slightly as she leaned against his side. Both of them content to sit side-by-side for a while. This was as close to home as they were going to get out here. For each other, they were the biggest piece of home they had left.

[desiraypark]

When the Sun Sleeps in Canto Bight [5]

Previous Entire Work CHAPTER PLAYERS

The Knights of Ren: Ushar, Cardo, Trudgen, Ap’lek, Vicrul aka “Vic”, and Kuruk) Kylo Ren, Leader of the Knights of Ren Ruby Girard, The Beautiful Singer CHAPTER CONTENT N*FW -| Sexual content; mention of sex work; alcohol; language; back-story Additional Notes: Galactic Standard Calendar | 1920s Stockings, Tights, Nylons, Socks History by Vintage Dancer (scroll down to see how women of color (particularly Black women) wore their stockings) Word Count: 2,721

“I don’t get it. You fuck ‘em good, you give ‘em money and nice clothes—put ‘em up in a nice place, and they still aren’t satisfied. If I was a broad, I would be a-fuckin’ okay,” Ushar said, leaning back in a chair and smoking a cigarette. “She wants the ring, man. She wants the ring,” Cardo said. He was cleaning his gun. “Well, I’ve got a damn wife! Shit!” Ushar proclaimed. The Knights of Ren—all but Kylo, Vic, and Kuruk—were sitting in office of The Garden Lounge—their flagship establishment for over thirty years. It was a placed that lived up to its name: beautiful plant décor in the lounge; sky blue walls and plush brown carpeting—girls dressed in just enough to not be obscene, but just a little to remind you of “nature”, if you will. Vic was out front entertaining guests and Kuruk was manning the office. Trudgen was leaning against the teak-wood desk, downing a glass of whiskey, while Ap’lek was stretched out across the chaise. Finally, Kylo came in. 

“Evening, fellas,” Kylo said. “Evening,” they responded. “Where’s Vic?” Kylo asked as he sat behind his desk. “Minglin’,” Ap’lek answered. “Do you have your fuckin’ shoes on my couch?” Kylo asked. Ap’lek sat up and planted his feet on the floor. “Sorry, Boss.” “What’s goin’ on with the wife?” Kylo asked Ushar. He shook his head. “Wife’s fine. It’s the other one that’s bein’ a fuckin’ brat,” he responded.    “Why don’t you get rid of her?” Kylo asked, organizing things that didn’t need organizing on his desk. “Pussy’s too good, man.” The Knights chuckled. “Can somebody get—” Kylo started. At that moment, Vic walked through the door and left it open. Kuruk stood outside but stayed close enough to the office to hear what was going on. Vic sat beside Ushar, and Trudgen sat beside Ap’lek on the sofa. Kylo looked up at Kuruk and waved him in. “Come on in, Kuruk. Nobody’s gonna barge in here,” he said. Kuruk nodded, closed the door, and leaned against the wall beside it. “What’s goin’ on, fellas? Ap’lek, anything you wanna discuss?” Kylo asked. “Nope.” “I hear the Kesyk gang’s got a hold of some new toys. Automatic. Fast,” Cardo chimed in. “What makes ‘em special?” Kylo asked. “Faster. More precise. Lightweight,” Cardo answered. “Interesting. Look into it. How’s tricks?” “Steady,” Ushar answered. “The johns are startin’ to get a little bold, though. One of ‘em got a little rough with Hela and she cut him.” “Why can’t these bastards shoot their fuckin’ nut and leave?” Kylo asked. “How’s Hela?” “You know her. She’s cool but she said she’ll do it again,” Ushar answered. “As she fuckin’ should.

“Yeah, but--you think that would drive men away?” Ushar asked. “These fuckin’ johns would step over alligators to get some ass. And they know we’ve got the best fuckin’ girls and guys in Canto Bight. If they act like they have some sense, they ain’t gotta worry about nobody pullin’ no fuckin’ blades on ‘em.”

Ushar shrugged in reluctant agreement, and Vic smiled to himself. 

 The booze?” Kylo asked. 

“Booze is flowin’. Hearin’ more complaints from South Side, though,” Vic answered. “They still waterin’ the shit down?” Kylo asked. “No. This time they’re puttin’ in too much,” Vic answered. 

“People goin’ in for a couple of drinks and walkin’ out eatin’ the fuckin’ concrete,” Trudgen chimed in. He polished off his whiskey. “Fuckin’ idiots. I guess the only thing we can do is give them a fuckin’ recipe book or somethin’,” Kylo said. “Anything else goin’ on?” “Nope/No, boss,” the Knights said in unison. Vic cleared his throat. “There is one thing. Ren’s cousin reached out to me,” he said. “Sheev? That fuckin’ weirdo. What does he want?” “He was very vague. Said he wanted to discuss business and his “retirement”. Said to swing by the Death Star anytime. I was thinking Primeday? Around 2?” Vic suggested. “No can do. Got plans on Primeday. Centaxday. Afternoon.” Vic nodded. **********************

PRIMEDAY 

Kylo had spent the afternoon before dreaming up the perfect Primeday dinner. Everything usually closed or closed early on Primeday, so he had to think fast. Once he got an idea, he made his list and headed out to the markets—the butcher for lamb chops; the produce vendor for potatoes, mushrooms, lemons, and carrots. He’d even snatched a bottle of wine from the Garden Lounge’s inventory, and bought a chocolate cake from the bakery. Ruby agreed to be picked up at three. 

When Kylo pulled up at about 2:55, Ruby stood outside her building wearing another pink dress, blue baby doll heels, white stockings, and holding a white clutch in her hand. Thick curls peeped out of her white cloche hat. As she walked to the car, he climbed out and lifted his hands. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked. Ruby froze. “What?” “You’re supposed to wait for me to come to your fuckin’ door,” he said. Ruby shook her head and kept walking, and he walked toward her. She looked him over—his tall figure dressed from head to toe in black: black trousers, black shirt, black vest, black oxfords. “I just thought it would be more convenient for me to wait outside for you,” she fibbed. Truth was, she didn’t want Crystal sizing him up and asking him questions. Kylo took her hand and led her to the car.  

Kylo had called Ruby’s building a dump. His building was nice, but so lifeless and empty. No art on the walls; no flowers. His own apartment was similar. Clean. Very clean and neat. But no art. No colorful accents to catch your eye. He had a gramophone but owned no records. At least he had a radio. After he’d poured her a glass of wine in his tiny kitchen, she’d taken it upon herself to go into the living room and turn it on. Then, she got a better look at the place—no pictures. Just a burgundy couch that appeared to never have been sat on and a dining table with only two chairs in the corner. “You gonna leave me in here by myself, Babydoll?” Kylo called from the kitchen. Ruby smiled and walked back into the kitchen. Kylo had taken off his vest and rolled up his sleeves. He was standing over his stove, putting potatoes into a pot of water. Then, he went into the icebox and pulled out a thick piece of brown paper—stuffed with something. Ruby leaned against the counter and watched him work, trying to bite down a smile. “Tell me about yourself,” he requested. Ruby took a sip of her wine. “You first.” She saw his chest rise and fall, trapping a chuckle. “What do you wanna know?” Ruby thought back to the things Crystal told her. Where to start? Why did he call himself Kylo Ren if he was a Solo? An Organa? She chose to point at the most intriguing target. “Did you try to kill your father?” she asked. Kylo dropped pieces of meat into a bowl he’d filled with water. “I didn’t try to kill him. We got into a fight. He was winning. I pulled a knife on him to scare him off.” Ruby’s jaw dropped. “Oh…” Kylo didn’t continue. “May I ask what the fight was about?” Kylo sighed. He grabbed a bottle of vinegar from his cupboard and poured some into the bowl. 

“I’d been out with some friends. Fuckin’ around. Stayed the night with some br--some girl--and didn’t come home until the next morning. I was 18. Thought I was a man. My dad wouldn’t let me inside. Told me I was falling to the Dark Side...that I needed to repent and start coming to sanctuary with him, yada-yada-yada. I told him to shove his sanctuary up his ass and we just started brawlin’ in front of the neighbors.” “So, you’ve always been a little smart mouth,” Ruby joked. Kylo laughed. “Not always. I was just tired of people telling me what to do.” Ruby put her wine glass on the counter, grabbed the edge, then lifted herself to sit high. Then, she yanked off her hat and fluffed her hair. “What did your mom have to say about all of this?” she asked. “She did what she usually did. Defended me in front of him. Because she hates him just as much as I do. But told me how much of a disappoint I was to her behind closed doors.” Ruby’s watched Kylo move about in silence--moving the meat around in the bowl. Everything was making sense. The typical tale—poor little rich boy, rebellious and angry. He glanced at her, then avoided her sympathetic stare--placing his eyes on the pot of boiling potatoes instead. 

“I’m sorry you went through that,” she said. He shrugged and washed his hands.

"Eh. I’m over it. It was a long time ago,” he said. He dried his hands on a towel, then poured himself a glass of wine. “Your turn,” he said as he poured. 

“What do you want to know?” Ruby asked, echoing him. “Tell me about your parents.” He rested his hip against the counter and took a sip.

“I think…my mom is essentially your dad,” she said with chuckle. “Everything is dark-sided to her. Singing about anything unrelated to the gods. The radio. Picture shows. Lipstick. She didn’t have to put me out. As soon as I turned 18, I was outta there.” Kylo listened to Ruby speak, but found himself getting lost in her--her hands that moved with every word she said; brown legs that lifted by the knee when the edge of the counter started cutting off her circulation. Even when she talked, there seemed to be a melody in her voice. She spoke highly of her father—apparently he was a laid-back and funny man—and she justified her mother’s puritan ways by admission of her being protective and caring. “So, mom wouldn’t think too highly of me, huh?” Kylo asked. “Oh, she’d probably melt into a puddle, she’d be so incensed,” Ruby said with a laugh. She guzzled the remainder of her wine. Ruby’s laugh made him smile. He tapped his fingers against his wine glass. “What does Ruby think about me?” he asked. A stillness fell over her. She stared at Kylo’s face—dark eyes boring into her; long waves draped over the side of his face as the result of a side part. Her eyes fell onto the stitches on his cheek, then back at his irises. “I think you’re impulsive and hot-headed,” she said. Kylo rolled his eyes and smirked. “…and passionate. Maybe even loyal...in search of something…” Potatoes began to knock against each other in the pot. Kylo stared into Ruby’s eyes, then at her painted lips. They parted just a centimeter, as though tired of being pressed together. Tired of not being touched. Kylo leaned in close and stopped. Ruby traveled the rest of the space and pressed her lips to his. He moved to stand directly in front of her and held the nape of her neck, pulling her closer as she rested her hands on his waist. He stopped kissing her but didn’t pull his face away. “You want me to stop?” he asked breathlessly. His heart was pounding and he silently prayed that she said “no”. “No,” she said. Kylo pressed his lips back against hers and ran his hand up her thigh. She held the back of his neck and deepened their kiss—pushing her tongue into his mouth. He let her tongue in, and the hand that was on her neck, moved up to grab a handful of her curls. Ruby moaned into his mouth and opened her knees. The feeling of Ruby’s knees moving against him made Kylo stiffen. His hand moved further up her thigh, and in between them. He slipped two fingers past the seat of her panties and rubbed them against her outer lips. Then, he rubbed his way to her warm core and pushed them inside. Ruby pulled her face away and rested her head against the cupboard. Her eyes were wide. “Your fingers are big,” she said with shock in her voice. Kylo smiled and kept fingering. He pushed her left knee open some more, then watched her face crinkle. She closed her eyes and bit down on her lip—allowing ecstasy to overtake her. Then, he stopped fingering her and bent at his waist. Just as he did so, the water on the stove began to boil harder. He jumped up—annoyed at the stove for doing its job—turned the burner off, yanked Ruby’s panties down, and put them in his pants pocket. Then, he pushed back the skirt of Ruby’s dress. She tilted to the left to lift the right hem, then tilted to the right to lift the left—revealing the hooked garters that pressed into her fleshy thighs and held her nylons up. She let the bottom of her dress bunch at her waist.

Kylo stared at her vulva—everything. The lips; the slit leaking from its top and probably down to her core with arousal; the brown rosebud that was fighting to be seen. Ruby pressed her palms against the counter and opened her legs more. Kylo smirked. “Anxious?” he asked. “Yes. I am,” she answered—breath loud, hot, and sure. Kylo bent at the waist and turned his body to the side. He dipped his head between Ruby’s inner thighs, and without hesitation, rapidly flicked his pointed tongue against her clit. Ruby cried out and grabbed a handful of his hair, moaning as he lapped her up. He didn’t abandon an inch of her—tongue venturing around, over, and inside of her—causing her to grind against his face. With a mouth full of pussy, he stared up at her, ego steadily growing with every squirm, every twitch of her brow and every bite of her lip. When he stuck his fingers back inside, she tightened her grip against his scalp and finally looked down at him. The sight of him looking up at her with darkened eyes made her own eyes close again, but he put space between his lips and her flesh. “Look at me when you come,” he said. A chill went down Ruby’s spine and she looked down into Kylo’s eyes. He inserted a third finger and massaged her walls as he sucked and ravaged her clit. Suddenly, he felt her contracting over his fingers. Her jaw dropped and a strained sound left her throat. Then, she let out an endless high-pitched moan and tried to pull away from his lips—but Kylo didn’t stop until his tongue absorbed the very last drop of her sweet cum. She fell backward and rested her head on the cupboard again—loud breaths filling the quiet of the kitchen. Barely giving her a minute, Kylo peeled her off the counter and tossed her over his shoulder—making her squeal as if she were on an amusement ride. He carried her to his bedroom and dropped her onto his bed. He pulled off her shoes, then pulled at the buttons of his vest. Ruby sat up, pulled her dress over her head, unclasped her bra, and tugged at the hook on her right garter. “Keep those on,” he said. He stared at her thighs and licked his lips.

Ruby moved her hand and fell back. She watched Kylo get completely naked. She barely got a good look at him before he was on top of her, planting kisses against her neck. He grabbed her right leg and pressed it back so that her knee was over her chest. Shortly after, she felt something warm and stiff rubbing against the outside of her core—it pressed into her, and the pressure sent a wave throughout her entire body. “Fuck…” they whimpered at the same time. Then, they chuckled. Kylo kissed her lips and inhaled her moans as he pushed more inches into her. He caught her grabbing the blanket in his peripheral, and slowly penetrated her until he couldn’t go any further. “You okay?” he asked. “Yes,” she strained to answer. 

He grabbed her left hand and placed it over the meatiest part of his waist. Then, he dragged out of her, and drove back in. He held on to her right thigh, the leg still pushed back, and dipped in and out of her—fast enough to please, but slow enough for the both of them to feel their lover’s every twitch and pulse, and grip and stroke.

[rottmntquotes]

A Bit Of Brotherly Therapy

"Thank you for seeing me again. I was worried you schedule would be too full. Y'know because of the whole: Being April's Therapy Bear thing."

A soft shuffling noise was made as Leo shifted on his bed, pulling a string that was attached to the back of a small teddy bear. A short giggle was emitted before the bear talked.

"Hi! My name's Tony Rooster! What's your name?" the bear asked.

"Right. Identify yourself." Leo whispered. "My name's Leo. Well, actually, It's Leonardo, last name Hamato. Then again, my dad usually refers to us last-first when he's pissed. So would that make last-first be first-last?"

Leo pulled the string on Tony Rooster again.

"I like strawberries! What's your favorite vegetable?" Tony Rooster asked cheerily.

"Oh! Okay… a little unorthodox, but… who am I to question a professional?" Leo asked no one in particular. "Let's see… I like carrots. They're good for your eyesight! Isn't that cool?"

Another tug on Tony's string.

"I can say the whole alphabet! Will you sing with me?" Tony Rooster requested. Leo smiled, waiting for a tune to play before singing along. "ABCDEFG… HIJK-"

"Elemenopee!" Leo shouted, laughing boisterously at the instance. "That's my favorite part!"

Once Tony Rooster finished singing, Leo tugged the string again.

"Playing is fun! What's your favorite colour?" Tony Rooster asked.

"Those two things are… completely unrelated." Leo muttered. "But, I guess I should answer… I like the color blue."

Another tug.

"Tony Rooster has many friends! Tony Rooster loves his friends very much!" Tony shouted. "Can you name anyone you care about?"

"Of course! My brothers, my dad, April, Jupiter Jim- to an extent, -Lou Jitsu, Todd, FrankenFoot, Bullhop, Señor Hueso…" Leo trailed off, humming in thought. "That's all I can think of."

Another tug.

"Tony Rooster is afraid of the dark. Is there anything you're scared of?" Tony asked. Leo said nothing, tugging the string again. "Tony Rooster likes to put on talent shows! What's your talent?"

Another tug.

"Tony Rooster likes to learn new things to help him in life! What do you want to get better at?"

Another tug.

"Tony Rooster enjoys hearing happy words from friends and family! Can you name any happy words to describe yourself?"

Another tug.

"Tony Rooster has plenty of interests! Can you name one thing that you're good at-"

"NO!" Leo shouted, continuously tugging at Tony's string, wanting desperately to get away from what was supposed to be innocent inquiries. "ASK. ME. SOMETHING. ELSE!"

"Tony Rooster likes to play pretend- Tony Rooster likes to have family tea parties- Tony Rooster- Tony Rooster- Tony Rooster-"

"I DON'T CARE!" Leo screamed, making his tugging much more aggressive. "SAY. SOMETHING. THAT. ISN'T STUPID!"

Tug.

Tug.

Tug.

SNAP!

"Tony Rooster likes to… uh-oh… Tony Rooster doesn't feel too good…"

"You and me both." Leo huffed, tossing the bear onto the floor. Minutes passed before Leo finally came to terms with what he'd just done, and the reality of the situation was enough to draw tears out of him. "You and me both…"

"Leo?"

A soft gasp followed Donnie's question, and Leo wiped away any trace of tears that had fallen.

"Yeah? What's up?" Leo asked, giving Donnie an impressively well kempt smile. An obvious attempt of trying to seem put together in Donnie's eyes.

The poor thing.

"What's wrong now?" Donnie asked, not a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"I… don't know what you mean." Leo replied quickly, giving a small sniffle. "I was just… talking… to myself…"

"Tony Rooster likes naps…" the bear uttered, its voice worn down and garbled. "Tony Rooster…"

"To yourself, huh?" Donnie chuckled, walking up to Leo. "You wanna change your response?"

"No." Leo replied bluntly. "Final answer."

Donnie smiled, sitting next to Leo and wrapping an arm around the younger. The two then made eye contact, having a silent conversation before trilling in sync. The now audible conversation allowed Donatello to learn about what was bothering his twin, giving the Softshell a good idea of what to do.

"You know, Leo, it's okay to be scared. Everyone gets that way at some point."

"I know." Leo replied, bringing his knees against his plastron.

"It's okay to doubt yourself. Everyone does at some point."

"I know…"

"It's okay to question your role in life. Everyone does. At some point."

"Yeah…"

"It's okay to dry text." Donnie hummed. "But giving me constant "I Knows" and "Yeahs" won't help the situation."

"I… well, I…" Leo couldn't find the right words. Donnie picked up on this, rubbing Leo's arm soothingly. "I just don't like talking about stuff like this."

"You say that like everyone else does." Donnie chuckled, taking pride in the light punch on the chest he received.

"You know what I mean." Leo huffed, wrapping his arms around his twin brother. "It's just… it's-"

"Scary." Donnie finished. Leo nodded, enjoying the silence that followed the conversation. Soon, however, the silence itself became scary in its own way, so Leo brought up another topic.

"What's my role?" Leo asked, looking up at Donnie.

"What do you-"

"My role." Leo huffed. "Like, you're the smart one, Mikey's the art guy, and Raph's the super strong protector. That doesn't really leave much for me to be."

"Well, I can't think of anyone else in this family who's as good at reading emotions as well as you are." Donnie complimented, earning a light blush. "It's like you have a knack for it. You know when we're hurt, when we're silently happy, when we're silently sad or angry, when we need comfort at any point."

"What would that even be considered?" Leo asked.

"The Loving Observer." Donnie replied softly, moving Leo's mask tails so that they lay along Leo's carapace. "The one we can count on to get us through any hard times."

"Ew… so mushy." Leo playfully muttered, smiling as he was nuzzled against. "Mushy big twin."

"Sensitive little twin." Donnie whispered. Silence befell the two once more before they burst into laughter. "I think… I think we've mixed a few things up there!"

"Ya think?" Leo snickered, blowing at Donnie's snout. "Weird nerd."

"Somehow loveable jackass." Donnie responded, planting a kiss on Leo's head.

That was better.

[albion-93]

Cake & Consolations

Short story inspired by @littlemisssquiggles, hope you enjoy!

            The days came and went quickly in the cold northern latitudes of the kingdom of Atlas. The sun often set as early as 5 o’clock in the afternoon, and naturally the freezing tundra winds swept into the lower city. Atlas had low-level shield technology to keep the worst of the considerable cold out, but down in Mantle it was either dress warm or freezing to death. This risk didn’t seem to faze Oscar Pine, who strolled through the streets, indifferent to the urban decay and restlessness around him. He was looking for a familiar shop, and knew that his departure from Atlas Academy via airship would raise alarm bells and eventual reprimand, but he didn’t care. He spotted his destination and quickened his pace, now realising just how cold he was getting, and discretely slid inside beside a tall departing customer before the door shut.

             Inside, the warm orange glow of Pietro Polendina’s shop made Oscar sigh in relief. He stared about for a moment before a warm, hearty voice caught his attention.

“Good evening, Mr Pine! I’m about to close shop for the day but any time is a good time for a friend of my daughter’s,” greeted Pietro as he ‘walked’ towards Oscar and shook his hand firmly but kindly.

“Hello, Pietro, nice to see you too. Honestly, just wanted to see a friendly face,” said Oscar with a faint smile.

“Well, I’m very much obliged,” chuckled the kindly old tech genius, “it’s not so often that I get friendly callers these days, maybe my luck has changed wouldn’t you say, Maria?”

Oscar felt a hard pat on his back, and the boy gave a high yelp of shock before turning to see Maria Calavera. She threw her head back and laughed loud and long, joined by Pietro’s hearty chuckles. Oscar too finally gave a small, if hollow, laugh when the inner tension defused.

“Oh honestly, Oscar,” said Maria as she finally stopped laughing and pulled him in for a hug with one arm, “You scare far too easily. But it’s lovely to see you too.”

“Thanks, Maria,” said Oscar, his brief smile couldn’t mask his morose and lost-looking eyes. Maria immediately picked up on that, but Pietro noticed something else.

“Now hold the phone, where are your friends?”

“It’s only me. My uh… companions are coming back from a Grimm-hunting mission at one of the mines, I heard they were victorious.”

“Huh, and here I thought you and the others were thick as thieves. Both literally and figuratively,” said Maria dryly.

“Oh my!” exclaimed Pietro, now looking more serious than before “Then it begs the question: what are you doing out here all by yourself? This part of town ain’t exactly the safest of neighbourhoods, especially not at this time of day, you could get robbed or worse!”

“I won’t be missed,” said Oscar in a muted voice. Both Pietro and Maria stared at him with stunned shock and confusion. “To be honest most if not all of them don’t think I should be with them.”

 “Who said that? Was it that greasy-haired birdbrained Qrow again?” demanded Maria angrily.

 “No! It’s not that, it’s…” Oscar paused; his eyes went back and forth between the floor and the two adults.

 “Oscar, we in this household have a strict rule about telling the truth,” said Pietro sternly, as Maria also gave him a warning frown.

 “Lately I’ve been getting this feeling that I’m not actually a part of the group. I found out today that Teams RWBY and JNR were awarded their official licences after a successful mission, Qrow and Penny were there, and the General left me at the Academy like… like it was nothing.”

 His voice had fallen into a low, broken whisper.

 “Now that you mention it, Penny did mention some official business of some kind and seemed very excited about it,” mused Pietro.

  “As soon as I found out, I wanted to be there to show my support for Ruby and her friends, us bonding with them and celebrating an achievement they rightly earned, and I’m... just left out? Am I part of this team or not?! Just-just… what the HELL?!”

 His voice rose with each passing word to an angry yell, and he started to shake from short ragged breaths. He felt a small hand tightly holding his, and another arm around his shoulder, as he went on his voice cracked further and tears fell down his cheeks.

 “I’m not a Huntsman, I get that. I’m just an out of depth farm-hand with a staff; I don't know what I was thinking.  I should never have left my home.”

 “Come on, let’s go into the lounge in the back,” said Maria gently, taking him by the hand and following Pietro through. Maria sat Oscar down on an old worn green couch with light brown cushions, and sat with him while he calmed down. When Pietro returned, he was carrying a wide platter with a bright orange cake with a white topping. Oscar’s eyes widened with amazement and a wide smile started to take shape.

 “Now, I was saving this for a special occasion, but I think we can break into it a little early. It’s a carrot cake topped with buttercream frosting; two layers,” said Pietro proudly.

 “No kidding! That’s my favourite!” said Oscar excitedly as he clapped his hands together.

 “Is it now? Then by all means, have a slice or two on me,” said Pietro beaming.

“Thank you… I-I really can’t thank you enough!” said Oscar with overflowing gratitude and newfound joy, and a new surge of joyful tears threatened to break loose. He got up and grabbed Pietro in an embrace, which Pietro gladly returned with his one available arm.

After cutting a generous slice each, the three settled around the coffee table, large mugs of tea and hot milk on either side of each plate. For a while, the adults exchanged anecdotes of cake recipes, and Oscar eagerly listened as it was finally something unrelated to their mission, until Pietro’s curiosity returned.

“So pray tell, how did you, both of you, get roped into all this?”

 Over the next several minutes, Oscar recounted how he first heard the voice of Professor Ozpin in his head, how this ancient soul told him to abandon his life on the farm and on a road to ‘greatness’ in protecting the world. He talked of his time at Haven and joining with Qrow Branwen and the young huntresses and huntsmen. He talked about how he trained with them, felt a connection to Ruby, Nora, Ren, and even Jaune despite their later difficulties. He mentioned the altercation at Haven Academy, and the Grimm attacks on their journey to Atlas. Recounting these events made him more animated and even happy at points, and Pietro listened with rapt attention. Maria added her own perspectives on the events leading up to Argus with quite a lot more flair than Oscar could muster.

 “My, my... That was quite the tale,” said Pietro, very much impressed.

 “Bah! If it weren't for me then you, your girlfriend’s team and her nincompoop uncle would be dried-up frozen corpses,” barked Maria indignantly,

 “W-What?! Maria, Ruby is not my girlfriend!” yelped Oscar worriedly.

 “Well sure, with an attitude like that she never will be,” she muttered to herself before clearing her throat, “Look, the point is that Iron-trousers didn’t bother to extend the invitation to me either, kid.”

 “That’s... actually a fair point. I’m sorry.”

 “It’s alright, I made my peace with it.”

 “Look, I get it. I’m not with them right now because I’m not a Huntsman. Without Ozpin in my head I’m nothing, I’m not a hero or somebody important.”

“Who says you’re not important?” said Pietro earnestly.

 Oscar paused, unable to come up with an answer.

 “I've traveled to all sorts of places, shook hands with all sorts of folks, from high-and-mighty statesmen to humble miners. And you know what? In all my life, I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important. And that means you too! You risked everything to follow a group of strangers and jumped into the jaws of peril and emerged in one piece several times, and you keep sticking it out. You might not be a Huntsman right now but damn if you don't have the spirit of one, boy.”

 These words washed over Oscar, he looked back and forth and tried to process them, musing on carrot cake crumbs on his plate.

 “So everyone matters to someone, that’s your belief?” said Oscar at length, Pietro nodded, “then Ironwood would have left without me for some reason?”

 “Well, those mines are no picnic, and James takes a full escort wherever he goes. Maybe the General had his reasons and he trusted you enough to keep out of trouble. He’s probably wondering where you are right now.”

 Oscar flinched, remembering the Lamp of Knowledge. He had made sure to lock it up somewhere safe before leaving the Academy, but he still felt guilty about leaving it in some random cupboard. If Ironwood or any of the team were to find out he’d basically left his one job...

 “Here’s my two lien:” said Maria without her usual air of dry wit, “you got left behind, and that sucks, but being miserable about it isn’t going to make your situation better. You have to find another way: your own choices, actions and consequences. Do you really want to follow Ruby and her friends around like a puppy, or do you want to make the choices that feel right for you?”

 “You’re both right,” said Oscar with a calmer and clearer voice than earlier, “I have an idea about…”

“SAL-U-TATIONS!”

 Oscar rapidly turned about and stared; Penny was standing in the doorway to the lounge, all beaming smiles and waves. How that girl managed to be so loud and yet so discrete was both a mystery and triumph of Atlesian robotics.

 “Greetings, father! Greetings, Ms Calavera! I am happy to report that the graduation ceremony was a success, and my friends are officially licenced Huntsmen!”

 “Why that’s plum-terrific, darling!” said Pietro with his usual level of cordial enthusiasm as he pulled his daughter in for a hug, “Tell them I said hello would you?”

 “Of course! I’ve been sent to retrieve young Oscar,” she said a little more seriously as she turned and motioned Oscar to come with her, “Our transport is waiting outside. I believe Ruby and General Ironwood are worried for your safety, and Miss Valkyrie mentioned something about ‘he’s gonna get the grounding of a life if that boy isn’t back in five minutes!’ More or less,” she added the last part sheepishly, after emulating Nora’s voice to perfection.

 “Uh oh…” said Oscar, now quivering at the thought of a telling off from Nora and quickly rose, “I better go, but thank you so, so much for the cake, Pietro. This talk really helped.”

 “My pleasure, come by any time you like, as long as you tell your compatriots,” said Pietro as Oscar and Penny made their way from the lounge to the shop entrance, waving as they went.

 “Remember what we talked about, and good luck!” called out Maria.

[peas-and-tranquility]

Day 15 - Spaghetti Faux-lognese

⚠️ This entry is full of feels that are completely unrelated to food. There’s a recipe at the end though, feel free to skip to it directly. 

It’s already been two weeks! And I’m carrying on, still as happy as a clam with my vegetarian diet. No issues, no lack of inspiration, everything’s going great! 

Today marked French teachers’ return to school and it was – honestly – a good day. It didn’t start all that good, though. I had terrible anxiety last night, which prevented me from falling asleep at an ideal time. I’m usually a very non-anxious person, I get scared and stressed but for very tangible reasons and I generally manage to calm myself down pretty quickly. I had a very intense summer in terms of socializing and sharing things with people, and I suddenly got terrified that in a group of more interesting, more intelligent and more fun people, they wouldn’t like me as much. And I know that it’s completely unreasonable and that even if it was the case, I couldn’t do anything about it, but it made me horribly nervous. 

And of course, I had a great day, everyone was incredibly nice to me, I felt both useful and listened to, which seems to confirm that I need to take a chill pill and learn to trust other people.

The one aspect of the day that I would change though was lunch at the school cafeteria. While it was objectively good, something didn’t agree with my stomach and I was horribly bloated and gassy all afternoon long. I probably won’t eat there much this year, especially if I adopt a vegetarian or flexitarian approach for good. 

I came home a bit late (for my standards) which meant that I had less than an hour to prepare dinner and get school stuff ready for tomorrow at the same time. I opted for spaghetti Bolognese – I could leave the sauce on its own and it would infuse and develop flavor while I was looking everywhere for various information documents that I only use once a year in early September and that are therefore buried in the untouched depths of my “Work” hard drive. 

And it went really well. 

Lentil Spaghetti Bolognese: 

½ yellow onion

2 small carrots

2 cloves garlic

2 stalks celery

1 small can of cooked lentils

1 large can of crushed tomatoes

salt, pepper, paprika, oregano

fresh parsley or basil

➜ Finely chop the onion, carrots and celery and cook in olive oil until the onions become translucent. Add the garlic and stir for a minute or two. 

➜ Add the lentils and let simmer for 3 or 4 minutes. 

➜ Add the tomatoes, season to your taste and let simmer for 10-15 minutes. 

➜ In the meantime, prepare the pasta. When it’s cooked and strained, serve in a plate, top with sauce and lovingly garnish with grated cheese and your favorite herbs. 

It was delicious and not too different (in terms of taste and pleasure) from beef Bolognese. I have leftovers for tomorrow (staff lounge ladies’ lunch, yayyyy) and I know I will enjoy them even more. 

(🔗 Original recipe)

[themjinterviews-blog]

48. Put your hands in the air and say hell yeah. Captain Jack! Johnny Depp!

What motivates you to do what you do? Sheer necessity, usually.

What was the weather like the last time you went out? Hot. It’s Arizona so it’s probably near 100 + sunny.

Do you go for walks often? I’m pretty lazy and try to avoid it. You sorta gotta trick me into walking, like take me to a big shopping mall or something so I inadvertently walk around it whilst shopping.

What color shirt are you wearing? Gray.

What is your favorite type of youtube video to watch? I don’t really watch any. I just use it to occasionally look up songs or to record snippets of stuff to remix songs.

Do you need any new clothes right now? I got plenty.

What’s the next project you are excited to start? I’m working on a nonsensical Adult Coloring Book featuring animals committing crimes.

Do you collect anything? If so, what? Used to collect rocks and Pokémon cards. I suppose in a sense I collect all sorts of art/office supplies.

^and if not, what would you like to collect? Nothing really.

What was the last disappointing thing that happened to you? I don’t know. Suppose work being closed for renovation for 2 weeks kinda sucks because I sort of need cash.

What is something God has healed you of? I don’t really do the whole God/Religion rigamarole... Chances are if we are healed of something, there is a psychological, sociological biological or generally rational explanation.

Have you ever experienced a miracle? Like, a phenomenal coincidence? I think as much as I hate to be a downer, there's probably a lot to do with our perceptions of events

What was the last thing you ate? Lucky Charms.

Do you ever eat food that’s intended for kids? Well, Lucky Charms. I also love pizza rolls and chicken nuggets. But I’m not eating Gerber Peas&Carrot baby foods or anything crazy like that.

What was the last stupid thing you did? Define “stupid”? Most things I do are probably stupid to others but perfectly acceptable to me.

Do you get embarrassed easily? Sometimes.

Are you wearing pants or shorts right now? I never wear shorts.

What are your top three names you like for a daughter? Elliot (this is also my pick for a boy name), Tara, Hazel.

Would you ever film a vlog of yourself giving birth? Ew. Fuck no. Honestly, adopting/fostering sounds way more my style anyway. To be totally frank, pregnancy sounds gross and being unable to take my adderall sounds awful. I’d gain like, a million pounds.

Do you like getting caught in the rain? It’s usually a refreshing break from the heat out here.

Do you think your hair looks best straight, wavy, or curly? Messy, or in a side-pony.

What was the last craft project you completed?: Coloring books for my friends’ kid.

Name 3 youtubers you would like to meet in person: I don’t know any.

Has anyone ever spread an untrue rumor about you? Sociopath ex. Not sure he actually said them aloud to people other than myself, but I was constantly being accused of weird stuff I absolutely did not do.

What’s one rumor you’ve heard about yourself, and is it true? N/A. No idea. Not aware of any relevant or applicable rumors. I literally just keep to myself and do crafts.

What color are your nails painted currently? Not painted.

Do you use a pill box? Jesus, I’m not 80.

List 3 people you know who were loving and then turned cold: it’s kind of generic to assume either of those things as permanent traits. But probably most flings or whatever. It always feels cold when one party loses interest.

Have you filmed a youtube video today? Never filmed one in my life.

Do you leave the house when you’re on your period? Um yes. Life doesn’t stop just because I have cramps.

^If not, why not? -

Have you ever felt threatened for your life? Yeah. Sociopath ex would get overtly paranoid and mistake harmless or unrelated things I did or said to be conspiracies against him. And occasionally my imaginary betrayals would lead to violent words or actions. Like, a bundle of index cards with Carrabba’s menu items and their ingredients, word for word, from the Carrabba’s menu, was somehow coded plots to who the fuck knows to have him killed. Irrational stuff like that.

What are you behind on? Student loans. And when I say behind, I really mean that I actively chose not to pay them.

Do you get enough sleep each night? No because night is my time to be productive, uninterrupted and without bothering anyone. I hate having to stop my thoughts just because other people are making noise or trying to converse with me.

Which did you like better: high school or college? Absolutely college.

Which year of your life stands out to you as the most significant so far? Probably last year or two.

…and why? Big personal transitions and revelations in my life philosophy.

What was the last store you shopped at? Walmart, most likely.

Do you have a favorite pharmacist? I used to back in NY. Her name was Evie. She wished a customer Happy Thanksgiving on Valentine’s Day accidentally once and it cracked me up and we had a running joke about it.

Do you have a favorite cashier at the grocery store? I don’t shop frequently enough and I switch up stores when I do.

What was the last thing you ordered at Starbucks? Probably a toffee nut Frappuccino.

What’s something you discovered recently?

What makes you more creative? Emotional turbulence, certain drugs.

What’s the last magical thing you experienced? Um…Magical? The herd of unicorns crossing the I-10.

What is the theme of your bedroom? None. We are staying in a spare room at a friend’s. But we're actually moving this week because being micromanaged and constantly scrutinized was getting old.

Have you ever lived in a dorm? Yes, for a few years

Who is someone whom you admire, and why? I guess the lady at work, Amanda. She’s like 64 and works open-close every day, and still has a great attitude.

When was the last time you stepped outside of your comfort zone? I don’t know. I test the waters every once in awhile.

Where would you like to travel to next? Nowhere crazy. Just back to New York for the Renaissance Faire.

If you could win three dream vacations to anywhere, where would you go? Portugal—New Zealand—Ireland.

Would you rather ride a camel or an elephant? Camel. They’re fuzzy.

Are you a free spirit? I don’t know what that even constitutes. I think outside the box and I question social conformity and other preset patterns of thought. But I don’t know that has much to do with my spirit.

Do you want to lose weight? I think I’m okay for now.

Which insects scare you, if any? They don’t scare me, they just creep me out …spiders, centipedes, millipedes, roaches…ugh.

Do you think it’s silly to be afraid of a tiny insect? It’s not like I think they’re going to murk me with a sawed off shot gun. I know they’re harmless and therefor not technically scary…but they’re still creepy and unsettling somehow.

Have you ever experienced paranoia? To some degree.

Have you ever hallucinated? Indeed.

Were you raised religious? We were raised Roman Catholic. Didn’t stick.

Have you ever been abused? Psychologically, emotionally, physically and sexually. #sociopathic ex.

Do you think the cops should do more about bullying? I think cops have enough shit to worry about as is and don’t know how effective extensive police interference would even be. I think the anti-bullying message is stronger when conveyed by people closer to kids like teachers, parents, siblings or a celebrity figure they idolize.

Is there a coffee shop you like better than Starbucks? I like them all about the same.

If you could afford to get your hair professionally done, what would you get? Probably dye and highlights. Definite trim of my bangs.

If you had a lot of money, do you think you would use it wisely? Absolutely not. I have little to no money now and I don’t even use *that* wisely.

Do you know any rich people who are very irresponsible? I don’t know many people to begin with.

List five careers that you’d like to have: Lawyer (like A.D.A. Barba!)...Graphic Designer...Psychologist...Self-Help writer...and oddly wouldn't mind being a waitress still.

List five far-out things that you’d like to do before you die: I genuinely do not have a bucket list. If I stumble upon something that seems cool, I do it. Making unrealistic lists won't help my quality of life very much.

Do you dream big? Quite the opposite. I sort of just fly by the seat of my pants. Weird expression. Can’t recall ever having very fixated dreams or visions for myself.

What was your first imaginary friend’s name? N/A

What was the name of the first pet that you loved? Comet. <3

What was the first work uniform that you had to wear? Waitress uniform of sorts. I wanna say it was white button down and black pants.

Do you like to go barefoot? Usually. On some surfaces it’s intolerable and I hate the texture, though.

Do you like the same colors now that you did as a kid? Pretty much.

Do you have a blog? You’re on it, buddy. This is a survey blog.

Do you have a youtube channel? What would I even post videos about?? I assure you, I do nothing that the general public would find entertaining.

[lazyfox411]

Voltron Whump Week Day One: Fever

Summary: Pidge goes hiking with the squad even though she’s not feeling well. Not one of her brightest ideas, but nobody really thinks coherently when they’ve got a raging fever. For @hastalalaterkeith7152 because it’s pretty much a given now I tag you in everything you wanted some sick Pidge and also you give me consistent feedback on all my writing. thank you friend. She/her pronouns are used for pidge in this fic.

“We’re here,” Lance announced, much too joyful for six o’clock in the morning and much too loudly for Pidge’s ears. What were her friends even doing here, anyway? Oh, right. The boys had planned a hiking trip. Lance, Hunk, Keith, and Shiro all filtered into her house.

“I’ve got food,” Hunk stated, setting a picnic basket on the kitchen table. He began to rummage through its contents, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. “Okay, let’ see, carrot sticks, celery, cheese, crackers, protein bars, juice boxes, and of course, peanut butter sandwiches.” He pumped a fist in the air.

“Hunk, this isn’t a fourth grade field trip,” Lance said, “we’re all grown–oohh, you didn’t tell me they’re animal crackers!”

“Moving on,” Shiro gave Lance an uncertain glance, “I’ve got plenty of water, a compass, first aid kit, extra band-aids, because Lance is a klutz–” 

“Hey!”

“–and sunscreen. Because frankly Pidge, you are like an unprotected marshmallow. You roast easily.“

“Haha, yeah,” Pidge mumbled. She was busy wracking her brains trying to remember if she had been in charge of bringing anything. Ever since she’d woken up, her thoughts had been a jumbled mess.

“So, are you ready to go?” Shiro asked her, smiling and placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.” Pidge pushed her glasses up to rub at her eyes, where a dull ache was beginning to form.

“Doesn’t sound like it,” Lance said. A teasing smirk played across his lips. “What’s the matter, Pidge? Afraid of the outdoors? Or are you scared your tiny legs won’t make the harrowing, treacherous journey?”

Pidge sighed. Leave it to Lance to make fun of her size when she was already irritated.

“Hey, leave her alone,” Keith snapped at Lance. Then he turned to Pidge. “It is a pretty rough trail, though. You sure you’re up for it?”

“Yes,” Pidge replied sourly. “Just because I’m small doesn’t mean I’m useless.”

“And nobody is saying you are,” Shiro assured her. “Now, come on everyone, it’s about a two hour drive to the start of the trail.”

“I call shotgun,” Lance screamed. he ran from the house.

Hunk was on his heels in an instant, yelling, “You can’t do that! There are shotgun rules! Plus you got it on the way over here! Lance!”

Pidge sat, squashed between Hunk and Keith. “You’re the smallest, you sit in the middle,” Keith had said. Pidge had grudgingly agreed, and now she was craning her neck to see out the windows.

It was going to be a nice day, weather-wise. There wasn’t a trace of rain in the forecast, and the skies were cloud-free. And the sun was out, bright and big and shining daggers into Pidge’s eyes.

“Why didn’t I bring sunglasses,” she muttered under her breath. She jumped when Keith nudged her and offered a pair of red frames with dark lenses.

“You can use mine.”

“Oh, thanks,” Pidge chuckled sheepishly, :I didn’t think anybody heard me.” Her ears were buzzing, she really had no idea how loud she was talking.

Keith shrugged, and continued to stare out the window. Pidge took off her own glasses and smushed the sunglasses on her face with a sigh of relief. Hopefully with these, no one would notice if she kept her eyes closed the entire trip. Now onto the next problem: it was freezing cold. Even though it was a beautiful summer day, Pidge was shaking with chills. All the shivering made her muscles ache as she pulled her sweater over her head. How come she was so cold? Gross as it was, she could feel Keith and Hunk sweating on either side of her, even though the air conditioning was going full blast. Pidge opened her mouth to ask Shiro if he’d mind turning down the AC, but all that came out was a bout of coughs.

Shiro took his eyes off the road briefly to look at Pidge. “Everything okay back there?”

“Yeah,” Pidge rasped, sniffling. All the coughing had made her throat raw, and now she was sniffling. “Just allergies.”

“We could stop at the drugstore to pick up some allergy meds,” Shiro suggested.

“Sure,” Pidge said, “that’d be great.” Maybe she could pick up some ibuprofen, too. She had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn’t just allergies. Matt was at home right now, laid up in bed with a raging fever, and that boy could never keep his germs to himself.

“I’m coming in, too,” Lance said once they arrived. “While I do love animal crackers, Hunk’s picnic is lacking in the junk food department.”

Hunk sighed. “Okay, but I want a say in this. You always buy licorice, and you know I hate it.”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “I guess I’ll have to come in and supervise, then.”

“I’m just gonna stay in the car,” Keith mumbled, already flicking away at his phone.

“You can’t,” Lance said, “we’re not allowed to leave pets unattended on a hot day.”

Keith scowled. “Just go get your licorice, Lance.”

“I’ll see if they have any doggy bones,” Lance smirked.

Great. Just great. Now they would all be surrounding her, and no way was she going to be let off the hook without any questions if she picked up cold medicine instead of Claritin. Maybe she could get away with cough drops…

When Pidge approached the checkout counter, she was carrying two items: allergy pills, and a bag of honey-lemon cough drops.

“What do you need these for?” Shiro asked.

“Oh, these? I, uh…like the taste?”

“They’re not candy, Pidge. You’re supposed to eat them if you’re sick. And if you are,” Shiro narrowed his eyes, “then I’m driving you home right now.”

“Who, me? Sick? Come on Shiro, nobody gets sick in the middle of summer.”

“If you say so,” Shiro sighed.

And so, the car ride was continued without the cough drops. Instead of mourning the loss, Pidge decided to take advantage of the time she had to sleep against Hunk’s shoulder. She’d need to rest if she wanted to get rid of the fuzzy feeling that clouded her brain and muddled her senses. Ad she would need to get rid of that feeling to prove to everyone that she was completely capable of doing this hike.

As soon as she stepped out of the car, Pidge was hit with a breeze that should have been relaxing, judging by the way her friends were stretching and sighing with relief after the long car ride. But for Pidge, the light, airy breeze only succeeded in encasing her bones with an unrelenting chill. She steeled herself and fell into step behind Keith as they approached the beginning of the trail. She had a feeling that they would be the closest on this hike, since Pidge didn’t plan on talking much and Keith didn’t talk much in the first place.

The first half an hour was uncomfortable, but bearable. The next half hour was miserable. And everything after that was just hell. Everything ached, she was constantly stumbling over rocks and roots, and she was becoming convinced that the little blurry lines in her vision were not just heat waves, but that she was actually having difficulty focusing her eyes.

“You guys keeping up back there?” Lane called over his shoulder.

“I’m keeping up just fine,” Keith huffed, hoisting himself over a fallen tree. He hadn’t been lying when he said it was a rough trail. Steep inclines, preceding even steeper declines, littered with stones and ruts and criss-crossed with dried up creeks and thick tree roots. It was a danger zone, as Lance had already proved by tripping three times. And the headache, chills, and dizziness that Pidge was fighting made it ten times worse for her.

However, the cold was a problem that was quickly fading away. Where seconds ago, she’d had her arms wrapped around her body, pulling her sweater tight around her, she now had her sweater tied around her waist and was sweating profusely. Which, she admitted, wasn’t unusual for her, but there was something about this that was just so sickeningly hot. Her entire being screamed the same thing it had been screaming all morning: lie down, please. You’re sick. You’ve got a fever. 

But no way was she going to quit. She’d made it this far, and she wasn’t going to give up now. She could do it. She felt her legs falter under her. Just keep going.

“Watch your step,” Shiro warned from the front of the group. They were approaching a ridge of sorts, and the path narrowed with each step. Flat stones and pebbles slipped and crumbled underneath their feet. Pidge was doing her best to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

They were about halfway across when she felt it–a shifting of the ground, unstable terrain sliding under her weight. Her fever-muddled reaction was delayed, and before she knew it, Pidge was falling.

She screamed, throat hoarse, fingers scrabbling to grasp the edge of a stone, a root, a ledge anything. There was nothing. But then there was something. She looked up from the sheer drop below, to the hand that was wrapped tightly around her arm, into Keith’s wide eyes that stared back at her.

“Pidge!” Keith grabbed her other hand and hauled her to safety. The rest of the group gathered around her, panic evident in their too-close faces and too-loud voices.

Keith leaned in and asked softly, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Pidge nodded. She clung to Keith’s shirt with trembling hands, trying to steady herself. “Can we…can we take a break?”

“Absolutely,” Shiro said. “Just as soon as we get off this ridge.”

They found a grassy little space to sit down and eat lunch. Hunk handed out the juice boxes first, and Pidge gulped hers back thirstily. Next came the sandwiches. 

“Is there something wrong the sandwich? I thought you loved peanut butter,” Hunk said to Pidge, a frown crossing his face. “Oh, man, did I forget to cut the crust off? I knew somebody didn’t like crust, I thought it was Lance. I’m sorry.”

“No, the sandwich is fine,” Pidge said quickly. “I’m just not really that hungry.” This was true, she didn’t feel like eating at all. The heat was spreading all throughout her body, and it had settled uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach.

As they finished up their lunch, the idea dawned on Pidge that it might be a good idea to tell someone she wasn’t feeling well. Shiro couldn’t send her home now, they were over halfway through the trail. It was stubbornness more than anything that made her stay silent, continuing the journey despite the too-warm ache that throbbed through her body. She was exhausted.

The little red signs that marked the trail began to mix with yellow ones, and Pidge realized that the entire trail was one big loop. This meant they were almost done. They had to be. Pidge was sweating, too hot, but at the same time, her small frame shook with chills. She focused on putting one leaden foot in front of the other, but the world around her was slowly beginning to blur. And then the ground was rushing up to meet her much too fast.

“Pidge!”

“Are you okay?”

“What happened?”

“I dunno, she just collapsed!” 

“Pidge, can you hear me?”

Pidge opened her eyes blearily at Shiro’s worried voice. She felt a cool, clammy hand against her burning forehead. Shiro frowned when Pidge sighed in relief at his touch.

“She’s running one hell of a fever,” he said. “Probably picked up whatever Matt’s got. We’d better get her home.”

Pidge tried to protest, she was fine, she was going to finish this hike, but she didn’t have the energy. Shiro helped her to her feet, and when she nearly toppled over backwards, she was scooped up into strong arms.

“I’ve got you, Pidgey,” Shiro murmured. “Let’s go home.”

Home sounded pretty good right now.

[valisi-clark]

Intuition

For @gouguruheddo who is in a rage, and needs to cool down.

******

Erwin stared at the ceiling which was bathed in dim firelight. He thought that he had actually been sleepy before he laid down. But as soon as his head hit the pillow, images that he had unknowingly collected throughout the day had come back to him. When he closed his eyes, they flashed behind his lids, fast and unrelenting, causing a tingling in the back of his skull which would not allow him to sleep. 

Levi looked tired when he had come to Erwin’s office that morning for instructions. Later, when Erwin looked out of his office window onto the training field, he saw Levi standing, crossed arms, rather than down on the ground with the soldiers doing push-ups. That concerned him. But he brushed it off in favor of finishing a stack of paperwork. Later, at tea time, Levi only had a single cup of tea before he said he was retiring for the night. 

Erwin opened his eyes again. He had seen Levi do all of these things before, and there hadn’t been anything wrong. But Levi’s body looked different today. His eyes didn’t have the typical fierce shine. When he had leaned over the desk to look at some reports Erwin wanted to show him, Erwin felt a uncharacteristic crackling of tension. And that wasn’t Levi. The air around Levi was smooth and quiet at headquarters. Erwin didn’t feel Levi’s lightening until they were on the battlefield. 

He sat up in bed and pushed the covers back, quickly reassembling his uniform. Just a quick check-up was fine. Levi didn’t have to know that he had been laying in bed while thinking about it. There would be nothing out of sorts about checking on the Captain. 

After pulling on his boots, Erwin stood from the bed and walked over to the door of his room. He realized that he was stomping, and he reminded himself to be quieter. It was late. 

Closing the bedroom door behind himself, he walked to Levi’s room, making sure that his steps were more calculated, less hurried. He needed Levi to believe that he was simply stopping by because he saw the flicker of candle light. They both had trouble sleeping. It was believable. 

There wasn’t any light coming from under Levi’s door. Erwin hesitated, but he could feel that he was right.

Erwin knocked on the door. He put his fist behind his back with the other one. For a moment, he considered that Levi might have fallen asleep, but his gut told him otherwise. Levi wasn’t in the room at all. Erwin twisted the doorknob and opened the door. 

An empty made-up bed. An empty chair. A dark, stale room without even a hint of tea smell. Erwin shook his head, closed the door, and went back to his room.

He put on his 3DMG in the dark, staring off into space, worry flooding the creases of his brain while he secured the belts. Muscle memory guided his hands. He threw on his green cape to shield against the cold.

When he left his room that time, he didn’t care that he was stomping through the headquarters. 

His feet lead him to the stable, and he found exactly what he expected. One missing horse. A pretty mare who only had one master and was quick to let everyone know that no one would handle her but him. 

Erwin opened the stable door for his white stallion, and he looked a bit grumpy at being disturbed, but Erwin bribed him with half an apple and promised the rest afterwards in a whisper. The stallion responded with a slow blink. 

When Erwin pressed his heels into the horse’s sides, he allowed the horse to go slowly while he was waking up, but he increased the pace the closer they came to the Titan Form Training Forest. Part of him felt guilty for only giving the horse half of the apple when he was already pushing him so hard, in the dark. Thankfully, Levi had chosen a night of full moon. Erwin mentally promised that the horse would get a carrot too, extra oats. He would buy the animal all of the strawberries it could eat with his own money, but he could only think of Levi in the dark forest. What could possibly be wrong in Levi’s mind that he was so restless to wander away from the headquarters at such a dark hour. 

At the edge of the forest, Erwin’s horse slid to a stop, complained with a roaring neigh, that he wasn’t going into the dark trees if there weren’t any Titans around to force him, and Erwin didn’t blame him. Erwin dismounted, calmed his horse, who had somehow sensed Erwin’s anxiety, and Erwin rewarded him with the other half of apple, whispering to him and stroking his white face. The stallion ate the apple, begrudgingly, and Erwin stayed with him until the horse snorted, white steam billowing from his nostrils. 

“I know it’s rude to ask, but please wait on me,” Erwin whispered. The horse didn’t make any promises. 

Erwin turned and walked into the forest, listening while he moved for the sounds of cables being anchored, or the cutting wind while Levi’s small form forced its way through the air. There was only silence besides the sounds of Erwin’s boots pressing down grass and breaking twigs. 

In fact, he walked long enough that he thought he had been wrong. There weren’t any signs of Levi or his horse. For several chilling minutes, Erwin wondered if Levi had finally decided to run. They had only spoken of it briefly months before, what it would be like to abandon their posts, flee the walls, take their chances with Titans. Wouldn’t it be better than the constant scrutiny? Wouldn’t constant threat of personal extinction be better than the funeral procession that happened every time they returned from a mission? During the conversation, Erwin knew that Levi was allowing him to have the fantasy. The population loved Levi. He brought hope. Erwin was the figurehead of their failure. The fantasy had been much more for Erwin than Levi. But while he walked, Erwin wondered if Levi had felt the pressure and had simply been too kind to say anything. The true terror came from the idea that Levi might have abandoned him. 

Until he heard the stomping of hooves. 

Erwin lifted his head, not even realizing that he was looking at the ground while he walked, and turned right. 

The dark mare was directly in front of him, only 13 meters. She stomped her hooves, disturbed that anyone else besides her master would be out in the night. Erwin approached her, and she startled more. He stopped three meters away from her. 

“It’s me,” Erwin said. The mare stilled for a moment, staring at him. The horse recognized him, but she snorted, and stomped her hooves in further challenge. 

Over the sound of disgruntled horse, Erwin heard the firing of 3DMG. He froze, listening. Then, it stopped, somewhere behind him. 

“It’s just me, girl,” Erwin said. 

“Do you get a kick out scaring horses in general, or just mine?” Levi asked, deadpan. The horse snorted again, as if to agree. Erwin smiled, backed away from the horse until his back touched a tree, probably the tree that Levi was standing in, but it was difficult to be sure. 

“I didn’t mean to scare her,” Erwin said. “She’s just very picky about her company when you aren’t around, it seems.” 

“What are you doing out here, Erwin?” Levi asked. Erwin mouth filled with saliva. He hadn’t thought of a reason at all. There was no good explanation except that he wanted to be near Levi. He swallowed. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Erwin said. Levi didn’t respond. But Erwin heard the running of cables. To his left, twigs snapped, and he turned his head. Levi had landed on the ground, and he pulled his anchors from the tree. 

Levi stepped over to him, and Erwin leaned away from the tree, turning his body towards Levi. When Levi looked up at him, the moon caught his gray eyes and changed them to a lighter, more silver color. Erwin felt the air in his lungs catch when he saw them. But the lightning was almost visible around Levi.

Why did he come out here just because he couldn’t sleep? 

Levi’s eyes scanned him, searching his face for something. Erwin simply smiled softly. 

“Did you need me for something?” Levi asked. The question tumbled in Erwin’s brain, and he knew the answer. But admitting it felt wrong. Levi shifted, adjusting his feet, waiting on the answer. 

“I’ve never known you to come out here when you couldn’t sleep,” Erwin said. “I was concerned.” 

“Yeah?” 

Erwin only nodded. 

“Still think I’m going to run out on you after all of this time?” Levi asked.

Erwin laughed, maybe a bit nervously. But Levi didn’t laugh. When the silence filled the space between them, Erwin felt badly for laughing. He had thought of it on his way out there. How Levi had guessed, he would never know. 

“I’m the one who should be worried,” Levi said. Erwin raised his eyebrows. 

“I wouldn’t abandon my post, Levi,” Erwin said. “That was supposed to be a harmless discussion.”

“Maybe not on your horse, but that shit you pulled during the last expedition was fucking unnecessary,” Levi snapped. Erwin leaned back, as if Levi had swiped at him. His eyebrows furrowed. 

“I was doing what had to be done,” Erwin said. 

“It was fucking stupid.” 

“The entire unit next to me needed assistance, Levi, I couldn’t simply move forward without-”

“There were plenty of others that could have helped,” Levi said. “You knew it. You’ve only been Commander for a year and you’re tired of being in the safe spot already?” 

A cloud flew over the moon and dropped darkness over them. Erwin was glad, because he didn’t want memorize the rage in Levi’s eyes. 

“There is no safe spot,” Erwin said. 

“If something like that happens, wait for me,” Levi said, quieter this time. “Just wait for me, and I’ll come to you, Erwin.” 

“There wasn’t any time, Levi.” 

“Fucking delegate like a real leader then,” Levi said. “If I ever have to pull you out of a Titan mouth again, you’ll fucking wish you were dead.” 

The tone was strange. The way that Levi said it didn’t match the words. And when the cloud moved away from the moon again, Erwin saw that the rage in Levi’s eyes had melted to something else. Levi tried to change it when the light came back, he tried to cover it up with anything else, something harder to shield what was really there. But Erwin saw it. And that was enough. 

Erwin grabbed both of Levi’s biceps, pulled him forward, leaned down, tilted his head, and pressed his mouth to Levi’s. At first, Levi tensed in his arms, even tried to pull away, but he stopped dead when their lips met. Erwin closed his eyes, parted his lips, tasted Levi’s bottom lip. He could feel the tension melting from Levi’s muscles. The lightning had subsided to that calm, flowing feeling, and Erwin sighed when Levi opened his mouth, showing just how warm he could be on the inside. 

******

Feel better, babe.

[peterandviola]

What the Hell is That Thing?

The other day, while I was undergoing a bone scan, the affable red-headed technician shouted from the other room. I thought maybe his pants were on fire. “What the Hell is that thing?” Now, I think this guy has seen almost everything you can see from a radio isotopic viewpoint, but he had never seen a femur implant. They are very large and rarely captured in total by an X-ray. Still hollering from the other room, I heard him whistle, “It goes from the hip to the knee.”

 “Yes, I know,” I said somewhat irritably. I’ve had to introduce my fake femur to all sorts of people—doctors, radiologists, nurses, technicians, ambulance drivers, firemen. It’s a massive thing and stands like a monument in a bone scan. I am in an intimate and constant relationship to the device. Without it, I would not be walking, and perhaps, not living.

 Yesterday at UCSF’s Cancer Center, my surgeon, Dr. Rosanna Wustrack, seemed amused, but positive. She reminded me that rehab for this sort of thing is basically uncharted and can take a while. After reading the reports and looking at the images, she told me I am basically unchanged. The good news is that nothing is growing. That is really GOOD news.

 Yes, I am still Stage Four. No. It isn’t getting worse. This is great news. Am I healed? Not yet, and maybe never. This is a radical solution that will take years to live with comfortably. I am off opioids for some time. Yes, I miss them at times—at the end of a rough day, for instance when Tylenol or Ibuprofen just won’t do the job.

There are many ways to look at this thing. 

I am still getting used to the elevated shoe. It is not an easy thing. I feel unbalanced. I think my left foot looks “uggy” as my kids used to say. In reality, it’s not that bad, but I have not grown at ease with it yet. My shin hurts, but Dr. Wustrack says it’s just telling me it’s growing used to the big boost from my new shoe. I hope.

Everything was good news, despite my irritable acceptance of the situation. I’m not dying! I’m not in agony! I’ve got problems, which might be solvable, but are unrelated to cancer—I hope. It’s an adjustment to go from death bed to therapy to fixing dinner. Wellness turns out to be a lot of work.

 In some ways, I’m more scared than I used to be. I’m afraid I might fall and break the implant. “Ooooh no. The implant won’t break,” says the good doctor. She laughs and says everything around it might break, but not my stubborn ox of a thigh bone.

I’m afraid I will never heal. “Oooooh no,” says the doctor. My knee flexion has gone from 45 degrees to 80 degrees. This represents a good 100 hours of physical therapy and many more hours of exercise at home. The can can is inevitable.

I’m afraid the pain will never end. That’s not really the object of the therapy. The pain, and my ability to live with it, has changed.

I’m afraid it’s more serious than everyone says it is. Oh, it’s serious, all right. But it’s a bit of a miracle, one that I must accept to go forward.

 The truth is, the implant is a part of me now. The gruesome addition of the appliance also includes some subtraction. Three muscles were amputated to make room for it. Sure, I went through two broken Titanium rods and a failed steel plate, but now, it’s ten months since it was implanted. Time to learn to live with it.

I can drive. I can shop at the grocery. I can go to the Post Office. I can get to PT on my own. I can groan and moan through hideous exercise and watch my therapists smile. I can think about travel again. And best of all, I can thank my exhausted husband for the loving care he has given to me these years. 

Many people must go alone down this long road. I have not been alone, not at all. I also have my daughter to thank for caring and loving me, even helping me bathe and pulling my pants on. These are gifts from the ones I love that have no dollar value, no tangible asset, but here they are.

I woke up this morning and sat up in bed without help. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood. Sure I hobbled to the bathroom, but I did it alone. I did it. 

There’s a big carrot at the end of my rehab stick. Dr. Wustrack says, without skipping a beat, “You WILL go to Scotland in September.”

And that, says my heart of hearts, is worthy of thanks.