#why am I talking about tendons

[deliciouskeys]

Things I’m abnormal about:

men in trapper hats, men pushing themselves up out of swimming pools, men really enjoying their food, men in female clothing, men in eyeliner, men in weird little vests that end up accentuating their ass, men in boots, men holding kittens, men restricted in movement through ropes, men with sharp teeth, men with long eyelashes, men swallowing while their neck is outstretched so you see their throat tendons shift, men with long legs, men with short legs but a bowlegged walk, men crying, men

Men,

MEN.

[I’ve had this in my drafts since Jan 25 2023. Not sure what I was going through at the time, but I guess I still understand the sentiment, 16 months on. 🤔]

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

I am so fucking sick of these stupid arguments. People know bootstrap idealolgy is garbage until its time to own the tech bros or whatever about art and all of the sudden its STOP MAKING EXCUSES!!! Like fuck you people. I dont even agree with the OP being quote retweeted here but suddenly everybodys a small business owner talking about how you can do anything you want if you just knuckle down and WORK when it comes to art when you know damn well thats not how reality works. Fucking assholes

[l00katthesky]

——-

[bitchface24-7]

Hii! I've been scrolling through all your works and I just want to say I am ✨obsessed✨ so I saw a post where you were asking for fluff or angst request and I really really REALLY wanna see what Viktor and jayce would do if they're jealous or being protective! Like they saw reader at one of the parties and was being incredibly hit on. Would also be nice if it would be like pre-relationship! Like they're gonna confess or something, I don't really know this is my first time asking for request acckkk

(I really really want it to be jayvik x reader too pls 🙏���)

GREEN EYED - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: everyone knows the three of you are together. It’s no secret either. So imagine their surprise when the three of you go to a council party and a few guests flirt with you. They're not very happy about that…

warnings: unwanted flirting, Jayce and Viktor saving you, pre-established relationship, Viktor hits/trips people with his cane, Jayce is a bodyguard, fluff, suggestiveness, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. Oooh this was fun and funny to write. I'd be so flustered if they acted this way toward me. Hope y'all like it! Love ya ❤️

This party is horrendous. The food has no flavour, the alcohol isn't strong enough, and too many people are trying to flirt with you.

Viktor angrily sips on his champagne, his knuckles white at how hard he's holding the glass. Jayce's eyes are narrowed as he picks at the food he's attempting to eat.

All because some middle aged man with a heavily receding hairline is looking at you the way a lion looks at an antelope. Like your his prey.

“Whos turn is it now?” Jayce asks, eyeing the man down as he pops a cube of cheese into his mouth, “Mine.” Viktor states as he shoots back the rest of his champagne.

Jayce nods and Viktor casually walks over to where you're awkwardly standing. He completely understands why so many people are flirting with you. You have a sparkling personality and a gorgeous look. Beautiful on the inside and out.

Especially right now. You're wearing form-fitting black slacks, a billowy white shirt with an embroidered corset, showing off your waist and black loafers. Your hair is framing your face in a lovely way.

Your face is in a slight grimace as you sip champagne, leaning back away from the older man.

The man grunts in pain as Viktor whips his achilles tendon with an amazing aim, “Oh I'm so sorry,” Viktor apologizes, his tone full of fake concern, “I didn't mean to hit you, it was an accident.”

You huff lightly as your eyes glimmer at your lover, the older man looks cross. His face worsens at Viktors next words.

“I was coming over to see my partner and I accidentally stumbled. My bad.”

You hide your laugh behind your glass as the old mans face turns red in both anger and embarrassment. “You’re dating them?” He questions you, pointing incredulously at Viktor.

A hum is heard as you sip your champagne again, “I told you that five minutes ago, and you completely ignored me.”

The man sputters and essentially runs away. You and Viktor stand there in silence for a bit before the two of you laugh, and you continue to laugh as you walk back to Jayce.

Jayce's dark look has completely vanished, and he looks like a puppy now. Big smile, sparkling eyes, dimples out. If Jayce had a tail it'd be wagging a mile a minute.

“My heroes.” You croon at the two of them. A smirk on your lips as the two men fake innocence.

“I don't know what you're talking about?” Jayce says, his tone light and joking. You laugh and the two men smile at you. Ironically enough, now a woman comes up to talk to you. You groan in irritation and before the man can start talking to you, Jayce moves in front of you, the only thing you see is his deliciously broad back.

“They’re taken.”

The woman sputters, her eyes wide as her mouth opens and closes, “But—”

Jayce repeats himself, his tone firmer, darker.

“They’re taken, go away.”

The woman huffs and stomps away, her heels clacking harshly against the marble floor. Jayce sighs and falls back towards your side. Both you and Viktor smirk at the tall man. He looks confused.

“What?”

“Babe that was so sexy.” You tease.

“Got me hot under the collar.” Viktor adds, jokingly fanning himself. Jayce flushes all the way to his ears, grabbing a glass of champagne off the table and throwing it back.

“Shut up.”

The two of you laugh and Jayce's playful irritation melts away. He loves seeing the two of you laugh.

When another person comes up to talk to you the three of you groan. Jayce blocks you and Viktor again as you go to leave the party, the man doesn't read the room and goes to follow you two. Viktor subtly moves his cane a bit further out than normal and the man falls on his face.

You don't see anyone's reaction to his fall since you're already out the door, going back home.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You sigh and try to take your corset off. You get mad at have a mini-tantrum. You're tired, you want to relax with your boys and slouch lazily on the couch. You can't do that with this corset.

You feel a large hand settle on your waist and slowly untie the laces in the back. You sigh in pleasure as the corset is loosened. It’s fitted to you perfectly, and its super comfy, but you don't have the best posture. So being forced to stand straight for a few hours has made your back sore.

You groan as you roll your shoulders, your back popping. You turn your head and kiss Jayce on the cheek.

Jayce smiles as you plop onto the couch next to Viktor, your shirt now much looser falls down your shoulder slightly. You untuck your shirt from your pants and it damn near falls down to mid-thigh. You unbutton your pants and shimmy out of them.

You're at home with your lovers, you're getting comfy goddamn it.

“What a show we're getting.” Viktor jokes as he lays a hand on your thigh, watching intently as you drop your head onto the back of the sofa. Jayce joins the two of you on the couch and kisses your bare shoulder.

“The amount of money those people at the party would pay to see you like this.”

“Theres not enough money in the world for me to leave you two.”

Viktor hums, “Is that so?” and brushes his nose against the crook of your neck, kissing, biting, and licking; leaving a dark hickey.

Jayce follows suit onto the other side.

You sigh in pleasure, “You two putting a claim on me? What? You two jealous of the people at the party?”

Jayce growls and Viktor chuckles, “Not jealous darling, possessive. We know you're ours, but it seems others don't.”

“So we’re rectifying that.” Jayce adds, nipping your jaw.

You just smile, wrapping one arm around each of them, “I’m not complaining. Rectify away!”

They both stop giving you hickies and both kiss your cheek at the same time, your face squishing together. Then the litter your face with kisses, making you giggle in elation.

Why on earth would you ever go from one of those people at the party when you have the best partners in the world?

No one could ever compare to them. No one.

You're the luckiest person in the world.

(On the other hand, Viktor and Jayce think they're the luckiest people in the world.)

Oh to be their partner in the arcane world. Why can't they exist irl 😭😭

Hope y'all enjoyed it, love ya ❤️

[3liza]

On the off chance you've come across this in your own medical research, my partner (POTS, joint hypermobility, ND) needs to crack/pop her joints several times an hour, especially her fingers, wrists, ankles and knees. She specifically remembers it starting when she was 16. It's not really a problem except that if she can't pop a specific joint the feeling develops into pain, and sometimes she just can't get it to happen for a few hours. Is this something you've heard of in connective tissue disorder literature? Doctors have been, as you would expect, totally useless about it, and while it seems harmless now...

this is off the cuff; i havent heard about this but it does just sound like one of those things that could theoretically happen to someone with weird joints. on the other hand joint "popping" is something most normal people also can do, and in the last research on joints popping in those (non-hypermobile) cases that i read (which was a while ago so maybe out of date), it was discovered that joint popping isn't really "doing" anything, it was just making a bubble of gas and a sound using a vacuum basically, but it seems to have a powerful somatic effect which is why chiropractors use it. it's also a really, really common stim for various ND people. i wouldnt assume your partner's joint popping is purely somatic/habitual though, who knows what's going on in there or how it differs from non-hypermobile people

my concern would be that in 99% of the cases of "weird human tricks" that hypermobile people can do, doing those weird human tricks will loosen and damage tissue further and doctors agree that you should absolutely not do them unless demonstrating a symptom to a doctor or something. i would be concerned about continuing the joint-popping habit for this reason. but at the same time, pain is a really strong indicator in the opposite direction. so who knows.

actually now that i type all this out i am reminded that when my neck or hip gets out of joint i have to pop them back into place. i dont know for sure that this is a subluxation (minor dislocation), because im not standing inside an xray when it happens, but thats what it feels like. i do know that this happens to a lot of hypermobile people. the problem with trying to search for the term, which is a real medical term, is that chiropractors (fucking again) have decided that everyone on earth gets subluxations (false) and also that chiropractors can heal every disease by "aligning" your skeleton with powerful blows (false, especially for hypermobile people, who should avoid chiropractors even more dedicatedly than normal people). this is bullshit and can be safely ignored. however, many hypermobile people do actually get minor dislocations frequently, because the connective tissue holding joints together just isnt doing its job. ribs are a really common one. for me its the neck tendons and femoral heads.

i dont think a doctor will have any idea what youre talking about. maybe a physical therapist would be more helpful though, even just to ask questions and see what they think about the "joint popping is possibly damaging my joints further" vs "not popping my joints causes pain" situation

[thebibliosphere]

😭 Hey Joy, i know youre no medical professional & you probably get a MILLION of these a day, but uh... my neck goes back as far as yours with no issue, & i always hear this tiny squishy crackle when it does. i also have to crack my neck side to side daily & have constant back/shoulder/neck tension, have been casually told i have hypermobile hips, and i can uh. crack my elbows just by straightening them out (and it relieves discomfort to do so).

how fucked am i 😭😭 is this why i used to get chronic tension headaches

Neck instability or any sort of muscle dysfunction in the shoulders and neck regardless of hypermobility can cause a lot of headache and migraine issues.

I obviously can’t comment as a medical provider, but it sounds like you’d benefit from some PT that focuses on stabilizing those areas.

Which, frankly, given we’re all on phones/computers these days, a lot of people could do with learning how to take care of their necks better!

Also fwiw, when I tip my head back I don’t hear anything. I’ll sometimes get a loud “crunch” if something was subluxated and then I’m fucked for the rest of the day/week.

But most of the crackling and popping noises people talk about in their neck are harmless and caused by tendons siding over each other.

That’s actually what a lot of the impressive cracks and pops chiropractors make a big deal out of are. It’s not bones or joints it’s soft tissue siding over itself. They just tell you it’s joints because it sounds more impressive and they’re full of shit. (I say, bitterly having had the muscles in my neck torn and ruptured by a chiropractic adjustment that has absolutely ruined my neck.)

If it were me, I’d ask about some PT so you can learn to stabilize the areas you’re talking about. It’ll save you some problems later in life.

[great-and-small]

I know you're a fan of animal husbandry and the human animal connection so i have a recommendation for you if you haven't seen it, Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. The horse movements, including the correct ear movements when they're scared or calm/happy are so perfect. The story of the different ways you can tame a horse, through love or fear, the parallels of the destruction of Native land and culture between Little Creek and Spirit. The landscape paintings! It makes me yearn for the desert and I think you'd like it

Oh man I love love love that movie. When I was a kid I watched it over and over and the opening transition scene as Spirit grows up always made me cry. To this day seeing any old Buckskin horse makes my heart flutter a bit ❤️

As you said, it’s one of the best Children’s movies to explore the human animal bond, and I am always more interested in stories that examine animal exploitation alongside human exploitation. The two are so often linked that it’s hard to faithfully talk about one without the other. The nature of Little Creek and Spirit’s bond is the emotional centerpiece of the movie and a superb way to start talking to kids about how the way we connect to animals matter immensely.

This is going to sound like a weird aspect of this but I am also really really into the way horses run. Seeing a horse that loves to run just absolutely fly and let loose running in an open area literally gives me goosebumps. If there are horses in a movie Im watching and I don’t get to see them running full speed I will be grouchy (possibly relevant info: I learned to ride on a retired racing thoroughbred).

Running is what horses have evolved to do over millions of years and the result is an astonishing feat of biomechanics. My equine anatomy classes were so fucking hard for me due to the painstaking detail in understanding the structures that allow horses to stand and run in the way they do; it’s unbelievably complex (look into the stay apparatus for just a small taste). To see all of those tendons, ligaments, vessels, nerves, and muscles come together with such fluidity and grace is just one of the coolest products of evolution that we see today. It will never become mundane to me!

For an animated movie from the early 2000’s , it just blows me away how beautifully they render the horses running. You can tell they watched a lot of real animals to get it right. Something about those horses running across beautiful landscapes is just uniquely moving. I don’t know why but I am very much with you, in that this film fills me with yearning.

[neithoftheveil]

Ko-Fi donation ficlet #15:

Xie Lian comes awake holding his stomach and gasping, his nightmare clawing at him, trying to pull him back under.

“Gege?” comes the soft call from his side, but he’s already halfway out of bed, feet tangled in the blankets. He yanks them free as his heart hammers, but a hand around his wrist keeps him from leaving their altar-bed.

“It’s nothing,” he says dismissively, aimed at the empty temple, a placating smile on his face.

“Gege.”

“Really. It’s nothing. Just a nightmare. It’s fine. I-I want some water. Some food. I’m going for a walk. I don’t remember— I don’t remember where I put that scroll I found this morning.” Excuse after excuse floods out of his mouth.

The fingers around his wrist stroke over his veins, his tendons, with painstaking gentleness. Up. Down. Up. Down.

He breathes with the movements and finds himself calming by small degrees, but he tenses again when Hua Cheng says, “You don’t have to talk about it. But I’m listening.”

Always listening.

Hua Cheng always listens to what Xie Lian has to say, no matter how trivial.

Something about it has Xie Lian returning to bed. He’s pulled immediately into his husband’s arms, tucked beneath his chin. The embrace is tight.

“It happened so many hundreds of years ago,” Xie Lian says, stiff. “I don’t think about it anymore. I don’t know why I dreamt about it at all.” Fingers card through his hair. Patient. Tender. It gets him to admit: “The temple.”

Those fingers freeze, and Hua Cheng forgets to put up the pretense of breathing. Xie Lian’s never brought this up before, with anyone, but he supposes it was only a matter of time for this nightmare to crawl out of the depths of his memory, considering they spend so much time in Thousand Lights Temple and they sleep on an altar converted into a bed.

“You were there with me that day,” Xie Lian says. It’s half a question, half a statement.

“I was.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Gege’s…apologizing? To me?” Hua Cheng asks, voice laced with confusion in the dark.

“Yes.”

For a moment, Hua Cheng says nothing. Then he rolls them over so that he hovers above Xie Lian. He kisses Xie Lian.

When the contact breaks, his fingers find the ties of Xie Lian’s inner robe, not how they usually do—with frenetic desire—but like Hua Cheng is handling an artifact that might crumble if he’s too rough.

Xie Lian’s robe parts, and Hua Cheng descends to press a kiss to his belly. At the touch, with his nightmare so fresh in his mind, Xie Lian flinches, his stomach quivering under Hua Cheng’s lips. His husband would never hurt him, he knows, but his skin is so sensitive, like it’s only freshly healed. He jumps again when Hua Cheng kisses his stomach a second time—jumps a little less over the third kiss—not at all for the fourth. When it’s clear his panic is abating, Hua Cheng moves to his heart, his throat, everywhere he was hurt, blessing his body with affection.

“You’re safe, Your Highness,” Hua Cheng promises against his skin.

“I know.”

“You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

“I really am over it,” he insists, voice tight.

“Say something if it hurts.”

Tears well up in his eyes. “I’m fine.” A whisper. “I’m fine. I promise. I’m really fine.”

“Talk to me, gege.”

Those tears pour over. His breathing is shaky when Hua Cheng cups his cheek, kisses him, and smooths away his tears. One kiss. Two. Three.

“Okay,” he agrees, the word so quiet it’s practically silent.

And so Xie Lian talks. For the first time in eight hundred years, he talks about what happened to him—and someone listens.

[danieyells]

I don't know if you've done it yet but I would like to request Ren lines? I'm having tokyo debunker Ren brainrot bro 😭.

@otomelover23

You're all very welcome! I love you guys too, so far! Sorry you've been deprived of lazy boi lolol HOPEFULLY THESE SATISFY YOU A LITTLE BIT.

He's a little tsundere I think. He's one of those characters who just wants to be normal but he can't just pretend to be normal because he lives surrounded by chaos so he just complains a lot lolol. . .but i think he's a good guy. Aside from that he does not help his mother captain at all.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Great, shift change. I'm gonna head out then... What? Do I really need to be here for that?"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"I think you've got a notification... Aren't you going to look at it?"

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"Who did I disappoint in a past life to end up in Jabberwock... There's no general students or even a single other sane person, and these jumpsuits are a crime..."

"Why do I have to look after all these weird-ass animals? This is forced labor...  Ugh, they're so gross..."

"If you're just gonna stand there, could you go feed the animals in the aquatic zone?  I'm too busy."

"Ugh, why is that clown calling me... ... Whatever, I'll just let it ring out."

you know damn well that if you don't answer the phone you're gonna have to deal with Haru in person. Better to just answer it.

"Oh, hey... Could you open the link I sent you? No, you don't have to sign up or anything. Thanks."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Ugh... Tell me how I'm supposed to sit through classes when I've been up since 4 AM? (yawn) I'm exhausted..."

well if you didn't stay up until 4am--oh who am i kidding i stayed up til like 3 watching a stream and reading datamine stuff and then I got up at like 6:30 to get ready for work I'm no better kekw.

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Ugh... I can't believe I'm hiding right now... Why the hell does that clown have to chase me around at lunch time too?"

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Preach about doing it for the sake of your friends or the animals or whatever all you want— I really don't give a shit. People who say that stuff are just deluding themselves."

i've known people with this kind of cynicism before. once he finds people care about him and a little more stability he'll come around a little more.

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Huh? I can't see that clown anywhere... Hell yes. Gonna get through my watch list. I hope he never comes back."

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'm grinding this game on my phone, so could you not talk to me for a while? Crap, I think my RSI is flaring up..."

in Japanese he specifies tendonitis haha

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Don't people get embarrassed calling out those words when they use their stigmas? It makes them look like LARPers..."

in japanese he says they sound like they have chuunibyou which is much funnier imo lmao. also i guess that means he can say his in his head? since he'd feel embarrassed doing it aloud, maybe he's practiced already lol

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You think I sigh a lot? Got a problem with that? You realize trying to take away people's freedom of speech is power harrassment, right?"

you're starting to sound like ritsu. gonna hurt yourself reaching like that.

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm so done... I'm out of HP... Shouldn't I be exempt from missions and classes since I'm looking after all those animals?"

well based on one of Haku's chats, you can just do missions if you don't go to class, and based on Kaito you can just go to class instead of doing missions. . .but I'm sure Haru forces him on missions anyway lol. . . .

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Pfft... The video of that clown getting attacked by that hawk thing is getting so many interacts. This editing thing's actually pretty fun."

does editing count as a creative effort? i wouldn't be surprised if he switched to Hotarubi next year if so, assuming he doesn't get used to Jabberwock and the animals. Also why didn't he get stopped by Sophy for uploading a video with an anomaly? Unless he uploaded it to an Institute social media site like WickHive or something. . . .

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Gotta change the locks so that clown can't get in again. I've bought enough padlocks to start my own business by now..."

life haru finds a way. sometimes that way is "towa, break down the door" if he runs out of lockpicking equipment.

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"My head's killing me... This is the worst... Rise and shine! my ass... It's basically still the middle of the night. Guess I should padlock my windows..."

5-6am I can understand being 'basically the middle of the night' but after that you're pushing it lmao

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"The cafeteria's way over capacity... The assholes who save seats before its even noon are ruining it for everyone else..."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Why's my pay so low... huh? What's this deduction for? "Consultation Fee: Ritsu Shinjo..." He's seriously charging me for complaining...?"

Ritsu charges for looking at him too long. i'd try venting on wickhive over complaining to Ritsu.

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"That rabbit sure has it good. All it has to do is breathe and everyone fawns over it. Doesn't even have to feed itself. Just wait till it grows up and learns what the world's really like."

WELL BASED ON THAT THE ADULT PEEKABOO WAS STILL BEING FAWNED OVER AND HARU HAD TO STOP PEOPLE FROM PETTING IT BECAUSE IT BITES. . .IT'LL PROBABLY STILL HAVE IT GOOD. Haru takes good care of the animals.

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"Sup... Huh? I'm alone today. I just got up on my own since if I don't that clown'll wake me up anyway."

yeah? it's because of haru? not because of your affinity with the pc being more than half so you wanna be up earlier to spend more time with them? sure.

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Oof, nearly missed the noon raid...  Not like I'll have any time to myself once I get back to the dorm, so I guess I should do it now..."

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"No, I'm not going to sleep yet. I'm gonna watch a horror B-movie. You don't have to think, so they're the perfect thing to watch before bed."

i used to watch/listen to mts3k to go to sleep so. i feel this.

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Well done me for surviving another day... Oh, same to you too, {PC}. I don't how you can do this stuff voluntarily."

SOME PEOPLE JUST LIKE ANIMALS DAWG.

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Huh? I'm going to the campus store to buy some stuff, where are you going? Well, I'm going that way, so...bye."

not sure if shy or asocial lmao. could be both!

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"You're being forced to help out again? Wow, a doormat out in the wild. So? Where do you want me to carry all this food?"

he's helping you even though he doesn't wanna work. HE'S GOT IT BAD.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"This? It's a video I uploaded. People seem really into it. It's of that clown getting chased by a dog and flailing around like one of those inflatable air dancers."

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"What am I doing today? Working at the diner. Oh, if you want to keep me company, feel free to come by. As long as you serve yourself."

it's not a date or anything since he's at work but like. . .he is inviting you to hang out. . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Huh? You were waiting for me to get off work? Oh... Thanks. Wait, that clown put you up to this?! I'm gonna kill him..."

NO NO WE CAME HERE WILLINGLY probably. although it does seem like Haru to be like "oh hey Ren really really likes you, you should go pick him up from work! he'd love that!!" like a real nosy mom who's trying to get his son together with his crush.

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"When did it get this late? That was horrifyingly fast... I'll walk part of the way back with you. I was gonna go buy something to drink anyway..."

excuses, excuses. . . .

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"Every day here is a fresh hell, sure, but... You're suffering through it with me, so I guess I'll stick it out a little longer..."

'this sucks but you make it suck a little(a lot) less so i can keep going'. yep, that's our tsundere alright!

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"That clown's even more slap-happy than usual lately—it's horrible. Has he got spring fever or something?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Otonashi keeps trying to make me drink some kind of rice porridge with weird flowers in it... It's actual porridge harassment."

considering the flower Towa associates with Ren is poisonous, i think it's safe to assume he is literally trying to poison him to death lmao. also wtf is porridge harassment--i even tried looking it up in japanese and the first thing that came up was someone screenshotting it and saying "what is porridge harassment" lolol

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"All this farm labor's bad enough without all the caterpillars and weird plants that are out there now...This is harassment."

what's harassing you, nature? as someone who just had to kill a huge mosquito that came into my room, nature is harassing me too.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I hate cherry blossoms. They're like the flower version of being a legacy kid— all they have to do is bloom once a year and everyone claps."

in japanese what he says is something like 'i hate them just like people born with silver spoons in their mouths'. basically he hates people born into privilege lol i bet he'd have the potential to get along well with haku until he learns he'll be inheriting a shrine. . .then again he's getting along with Ritsu in their own little way

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"This is the worst... It's not even noon yet, how is it so hot? Summer is for extroverts and party animals, I wish it could just be over already..."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"A group trip to the beach? I'd rather die. No decent person would ever go there of their own free will."

butbutbut. think of the summer skins!!!

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Summer was our busy period back home, so I always had to kill myself helping out. Now I'm here though... nothing's changed."

. . .did Ren's family run some sort of seaside shop??? And he happened to end up afraid of the ocean and hating aquatic creatures and such?

(between 8pm and 5am)

"How can the A/C be banned in the dorm...? Who gives a shit what temperature some anomalous animal that sneaks in prefers, humans should come first..."

okay i agree with him here though what the fuck kind of rule is that. can we talk to hyde about that, that's insane haru.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"Now it's getting colder, I nearly found myself feeling grateful for this tragic jumpsuit... Am I being brainwashed...?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Fall, the season of the harvest—I'll stick with cup noodles, thanks. "Fall, the season to enjoy the outdoors"—screw that. I'm gonna make it the season of naps."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Look—I got bitten by some weird bug anomaly. To hell with the stupid bug spray ban, I'm buying some."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I feel like the mountains are rowdier when there's a full moon. Pretty sure my enemy encounter rate goes up when I'm on patrol too... Maybe I'm just imagining it."

is 'enemy encounter rate' here referring to people or anomalies. . .because if it's people then that's just because of tsukimi. . .although I wouldn't be surprised if there were a lot of anomalies or anomalies were more active on full moons.

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"There's less patrols in winter but anything involving water like washing up gets even worse... Ugh, I wish I could hibernate too..."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Since the climate in Jabberwock's so messed up, sometimes it's actually warm in winter. The blizzards are way stronger though..."

have you tried pissing towa off less?

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Oh god, I just saw what's in the diner's new Mystery Hot Pot... It's gotta be a matter of time before this place goes bust..."

i mean if they had ordinary health inspectors maybe lolol

(between 8pm and 5am)

"That clown broke my window so my room's like a freezer... Oh, don't worry. I just took his room instead."

lmao imagine Ren invites you to hang out and takes you to Haru's room instead of his like nah he broke my window so i'm using his room and he can freeze.

His birthday: (July 25th)

"You got this for me? That clown's been spreading my personal info around... No, it's fine, I'll still take it. Thanks."

i guess he doesn't really tell people his birthday, huh.

Your birthday:

"Happy birthday, {PC}. ...Isn't it kind of rude to look so surprised I'd celebrate your birthday? That came from the heart, you know."

I MEAN YOU NORMALLY DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING. . .it's happy surprise!!!

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. My resolution? Escaping the hell hole that is Jabberwock, for starters."

well you got here in like September or something so. you've got a while befor eyou can switch houses lmao but you can do it this year!

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"You got me chocolates? You're the type who does all this kind of stuff, huh? No, it's fine, you went to the trouble and everything so I'll take them."

i love when characters kinda mock you for doing getting them something but then they're like "nonono i want it gimme--" lolol from Ren especially it's very tsundere. poor guy wouldn't be straightforward about his feelings unless a damn life was on the line.

White Day: (March 14th)

"{PC}... Here, if you want them. I just bought the first thing I saw, so don't read into it..."

i bet it's actually really nice lolol

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Guess what? I got special permission to switch houses. That nightmare is now behind me! I wish..."

Halloween: (October 31st)

"I hope everyone who gets excited about Halloween lives in misery for the rest of their lives. Why the hell do I have to help out with this stupid themed tour?"

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Can I ask you a question, {PC}? You don't still believe in Santa Claus, do you? Never mind, it doesn't matter. Have a good Christmas."

i mean. . .after coming here santa is a plausible entity to believe in. . .if there's gonna be a santa i don't wanna be caught not believing and missing out on gifts. . . .

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Where'd she go...? Whatever. Guess I'll catch up on some of my games."

(13 affinity and above)

"Pfft... This edit's awesome. I'm a genius. I'll show {PC} when she gets back."

true bonding is sharing the funny memes you worked hard on. . . .

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"It's not like I was waiting for you or anything. It's just this hell hole is even more unbearable when you're not around..."

YEP THAT'S OUR UNFORTUNATE CUSTOMER SERVICE EMPLOYEE TSUNDERE ALRIGHT. His lines don't really get super affectionate but. They still have a charm to them when you realize how much he hides his feelings in the usual tsundere way. He likes you a lot but like. . .it's a bother and it's embarrassing. . .and what're the chances you're into him? He'll just invite you over to watch movies and play games with him and stuff. . .and tell himself it's fine to just be friends until it eats away at him. . .or until Haru spills the beans for him--

this took way too long because i got distracted like three times in the middle and my laptop started freaking out and i had to figure out why and close and reopen everything about 8 times hahaha. . . . OKAY TIME FOR ME TO GO TO BED! I hope this satisfies you a little bit!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

You Make Me Wanna 2

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, best friend’s dad trope other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You duck your head just before you can glance off the metal. Walter shoves you into the passenger seat gruffly as you drunkenly gold against his strength. You dizzy pull your feet inside as he grips the door and barely get them out of the way before he slams it. You shake your head, try to break free of the haze. Ugh, too much vodka.

The car jostles as he rips open the driver's door and the axel dips beneath his weight. He growls as he snaps the door shut and ram the keys into the ignition. He lets the engine idle as he shifts in his seat. He slips his phone out and taps with his thumb. He could crack the screen. You grasp your own cell and check for messages.

He huffs and drops his phone in the cupholder. He pulls the seatbelt across his burly figure and clicks it into place. He glares over at you as he slaps a hand around the ridge steering wheel, "buckle up."

You obey. The nightstand taken a rotten twist and the sooner it's over the better. You just need to find Faye. You do up your belt and grab your phone again. You key in a message without a care for typos. Where is she? You suspect she might be too distracted to answer.

He reverses out sharply and you lean into the door. You look up, the streetlights glaring in your vision, then another light draws your attention. His phone is still bright. You squint at the map on the screen and the dot pulsing a couple blocks away.

"What the hell?" You bend to see clearer and he resches over to shove you back against the seat. "You're tracking her?"

"None of your business, " he sneers. "That's fucked up," you say. "You got a nasty mouth. Now I know where she got that from."

"I didn't raise her," you scoff. "Why the hell am I here if you got GPS on her--"

"Because for once you're gonna face consequences for your actions," he growls as he turns the corner without slowing down.

"Stop the car," you demand.

"Shut up."

"Stop!" You pull on the door handle futilely, "let me out."

"Don't do that," he barks as he keeps his foot on the gas.

"Let me out!" You raise your voice, "let me the fuck out, Walter."

"Mr. Marshall," he retorts meanly. "Stop fucking around."

"I said. Let. Me. Out." You hit his shoulder with your fist and the wheels swerve. He slams on the brakes and you lurch back in your seat.

"Hey!" He roars and reaches over to grab your wrist. He twists and you whine. "You're gonna get us fucking killed."

"No, you are."

"You ever shut that mouth," he sneers as you try to free your arm, only further stressing the tendon. You whimper and bring your other hand up to try to peel away his fingers.

"Let me go." He huffs and releases you.

You recoil and rub your wrist as you pout. You're quiet as you evaluate the throbbing in your muscles.

"You know, I don't think you'd want someone treating Faye like this," you murmur.

"Shut up," he mutters as he eases onto the gas.

"No, stop, I'm getting out."

"You're not going anywhere," he quickly builds speed again. "And you're not going to talk about my daughter again."

"Well... you put your hands on me. What kind of man--"

"I'd hate to think of the boys you call men," he spits.

You reel at his inference. Is he calling you a slut? He would laugh at the truth.

"Whatever," you cross your arms and sit back, fingers still tingling.

He drives on in silence, only his grumbles underlining his slow breaths. You don't get it. How is it always your fault? You got better grades than Faye, you did extracurriculars, it isn't your fault you couldn't afford tuition.

You don't spill any of these gripes to Walter. He would care. He doesn't care. He just needs someone to blame besides his precious daughter. If only he knew how many times you kept her from worse mistakes.

You peer out the window, yellow blocks of light flicking in between the dark. You had a bad feeling about tonight. You saw right through Faye. You knew she wasn’t coming for you. These days, your hang outs rarely end up being just that. You just don’t know why. She’s changed.

Or maybe she’s outgrowing you. She’s in college and you’re working down at the diner, scrounging tips to pay your mother’s rent. You slump down as the drunkenness coaxes your self-pity to the surface.

Your eyes wander across the dashboard. It’s not old and grimy like your mother’s used Chrysler. It has bluetooth and lights and the heat works. There isn’t a crack down the plastic and it doesn’t smell like cigarettes.

It was easier in high school to pretend you belonged with Faye. You still had that layer of naivete that made you believe things could get better for you. Well, life’s begun and you’re just the same as you ever were.

You’re rattled suddenly as he shakes you, his large hand on your shoulder, “wake up.”

“Hey,” you shrug him off, “I’m awake.” You swat him away again, “don’t touch me.”

He blows out between his lips and snorts, bringing his hand back to the wheel. You sit up and turn your eyes back out the window. He’s just another person in your life who thinks they can mistreat you. His temper tantrum is nothing to you, just like you’re nothing to him.

[moniquill]

Watership Down - first the film, then the book, is one of the most formative media influences in my life. I’ve written about it briefly, here https://i-blame.tumblr.com/post/69030937937/moniquill-moniquill-kucala-moniquill

but having watched the above video essay, I want to say more.

The first time I saw a deer up close was in my grandfather’s back yard; I was about four years old. I don’t remember the reason that my mom dropped me off at my grandfather’s house for an afternoon, but I know that it was unplanned - because he was in the middle of processing a deer. It had been field dressed, organs already removed, and was hanging by its ankle tendons from the t-shaped steel pole at one end of the backyard clothesline. I was startled, worried, concerned that the animal was hurt. There was blood! There was flesh!

My grandfather responded by calmly explaining what he was doing, step by step. Explaining why he was skinning the deer, and quartering it, taking it from this https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White-tailed_deer to this https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Venison

He talked about hunting, and about gratitude, and about humans and our proper place in the world - what meant to live in a good way.

By the time my grandfather was cooking tenderloin medallions and plating them up to me with grape jelly (don’t knock grape jelly on meat until you’ve tried it!) and instant mashed potatoes, I wasn’t startled or concerned anymore. I had a deeper understanding of the way the world worked, of my role as a consumer, a predator. Of the responsibilities that entailed. I couldn’t have explained it then, of course, with my 4-year-old mind and vocabulary - but Philosophy had been set into motion. This is a core memory for me. 

I did not have nightmares about the butchered deer. 

I was six when I first saw Disney’s Bambi. I DID have nightmares about that; between Bambi and The Land Before Time, I was absolutely convinced that my mother was going to die. That I was being presented with these media themes to educate and prepare me for that eventuality. I am the youngest daughter of a youngest daughter, and I have an extended tribal family. My grandfather died when I was six. His was one of many funerals I attended at that age; his generation succumbing to age and illness. I was aware of mortality. 

I wasn’t a ‘normal’ child, by the standard of the community that I went to school in. I was too poor, too indigenous, too very obviously autistic (without being diagnosed). I had very different media influences and interests than the other kids at my public school. No one else was deeply obsessed with David Attenborough’s documentaries (Life on Earth 1979, The Living Planet 1984, Lost Worlds, Vanished Lives 1989). No one else had even heard of Dot and the Whale. No one else in my class had Lifeways Lessons classes, because they didn’t have tribes.  

I wasn’t terribly interested in most media intended for children; it was boring because it was simple. I didn’t feel motivated to watch Disney movies over and over. Don Bleuth films had more staying power in my mind; An American Tale, All Dogs Go To Heaven, The Land Before Time. More complex stories, stories that confront suffering and death. My mom read me CS Lewis and JRR Tolkein, Jack London and EB White - lots of other stories that were not ‘age appropriate’, stories that were written for People, not Children.

I watched Watership Down for the first time when I was about five, and my mom read the book to me when I was about six. I was not disturbed by the violence, being far more interested in the themes explored in the video essay above. I had, by this time, seen a rabbit skinned IRL. I’d eaten rabbit stew. 

I did not have nightmares about Watership Down. 

I failed to make friends with the kids at school, for the most part - I primarily socialized with my cousins. In fourth grade (age 9), my class did a unit on tropical rainforests, and I brought in this video: I did not think that there was anything at all controversial about it, but at about 32 minutes in David Attenborough talks about the Guarani people and their traditional ways of life. There’s footage of an unclothed man climbing a tree. His penis is briefly visible. THE CLASS WENT WILD, and the teacher rushed to turn the video off, and I was sent to the office. It caused a school-wide incident, and bringing in videos was thereafter banned. I was deeply, deeply confused by this series of events. The video had come from the public library - how could it possible be offensive? But the incident became a vector of bullying that followed me until middle school - the adults had confirmed to the kids that I had done something taboo, that I was fundamentally wrong in some way. I quietly came to the conclusion that Most People(™) are very stupid and very reactionary, that one has to carefully coddle and explain things to them. 

It took me many years to only mostly overcome that conclusion.

Later that same year, I had my first real success in making a childhood friend - someone who came to my house after school and had sleepovers and such. She had transferred from another school and didn’t know I was THE WEIRD GIRL the way my other classmates did. I remember trying to introduce my favorite movies to her, as she introduced her favorites to me. She was a Horse Girl(™) and much more interested in Age Appropriate Girl Things than I was, but we shared a love of My Little Pony - I had a bunch of episodes on VHS, recorded off TV. She thought that https://mylittleponyg1.fandom.com/wiki/Rescue_at_Midnight_Castle was ‘too scary’ and preferred https://mylittleponyg1.fandom.com/wiki/My_Little_Pony:_The_Movie. 

I showed her Watership Down. She freaked out about it. It gave her nightmares.

She was, as many people, deeply disturbed by the violence of the film. She had not, at the age of nine, seen animals butchered. She didn’t seem to care about the deeper meanings and philosophical treatises presented; the fact that there was violence and death was too shocking.

I’m not sure how to conclude this essay, except with this: Watership Down is now a litmus test, for me. If a person is aware of it and appreciates it, we’re intellectual compatible. If a person’s whole reaction is shock and disgust and cries of ‘nightmare fuel!’ then we are not.

[discount-shades]

Contract Spouse Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Fallout

A/N: I have finished the final chapter and I think there will be an epilogue. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning:  Angst,  

Length: 2100 ish

Summary: Pip’s relationship with Jake changes again. 

Previous     Masterlist     Next

You cradle Jake for hours before you are eventually able to shift him up on the bed so he is beside you. Somehow you go from holding him to being wrapped in his arms, his nose buried in your hair as his breaths even out. That night is the first time Jake has ever fallen asleep before you.

The next day Jake is wrung out and you walk the fine line between treating him the same and being gentle with his shattered emotions. In the waiting room you squeeze his good hand between yours. Tracing your fingers over the veins and tendons you can feel in the back of his hand. “I think you should go to individual counseling.” You clutch his hand tighter but he doesn't try to pull away. 

“You should bring it up in couples,” his voice is sardonic, “it’ll give us something to talk about.”

“Will you go?” You search his face when he turns to meet your eyes. “Will you try?”

“If you want me to go, I’ll try for you.” 

“Then I’ll bring it up today.” You do your best not to think about how he made a point to say he would only try for you. 

When you walk into the counselors office he can immediately tell something is off between your worried glances at Jake and his haggard look. “Do you want to share what happened?” The counselor asks directly. 

You glance at Jake and when he subtly nods his head you continue, “I want Jake to see a counselor. He is a Navy pilot and has nightmares and he is not processing his trauma and guilt and I think a professional would be able to help him in ways I can't.” 

Jake tilts his head back to rest against the back of the couch you are both sitting on. His eyes are swollen and bloodshot. “Is this a new idea, or have you been thinking about it for a while?” he asks wearily. 

You pull his hand to your lips and kiss the back of it. “I have felt this way since you first started flying in combat. “I feel like this is the first time you would listen to me if I brought it up.” Jake huffs out a laugh. 

“You’re not wrong,” he says with his eyes closed. 

“Why do you think she wants you to see a counselor, Jake?” The counselor asks and Jake doesn’t respond at first and his eyes stay closed. 

“Because she is a better person than I am.” You can’t stop the scoff that crosses your lips at that. 

“Because I hate to see you suffering, Jake. I want you to be able to live with yourself.”

“See doc, she’s a better person than I am.” He finally raises his head to look at you. “She is being completely honest, she wants me to get better for me, not a selfish bone in her body.” You don’t say anything as you gaze into his green eyes. You know the truth. 

You want Jake to be better so you can live with yourself for ending the marriage. When you had decided to leave Jake the day of the accident you had thought you could force your love down to soften the blow that was coming for your heart. It didn’t work. 

It was going to hurt either way and the only consolation you had was to make sure Jake was as stable as you could get him before you tore your own heart out. You knew your leaving would rock his support system. 

“So the question is,” the counselor says surveying Jake, “whether you go to individual therapy or not.” 

Jake looks at you and you can not read the soft look that crosses his face. “Yeah, I’m willing to give it a try.” You smile at him relieved.

“I think that is a good decision Jake. You can go through the military channels or I can give you the names of some colleagues that work with veterans.” The counselor says, “But let's deal with that later.” He shifts in his seat. “I told you to each come up with reasons you are in love with each other.”

He motions for you to go first and you take a deep breath, pulling out your list, and shift to face Jake. You had opted to tell the truth with your list, it wouldn’t matter anyway. “I love you Jake because you are a good man, you are kind, you respect me, you encourage me, You are always on my team, looking out for me.” 

You look up at Jake and the way his gaze is fixed on you. His eyes are tender and you wish the look was real. “You make me happy,” you finish somewhat lamely. It’s probably the reason you love Jake the most. Being around him, good times and bad, just makes you happy. 

When the counselor motions for Jake to take his turn he doesn't pull out any paper. He just gazes at you with that soft look in his eyes before speaking. “I’m in love with you, Pip, because you are beautiful, you are smart, funny, you are the kindest person I have ever met. You make me want to be better, you always have my back, you make me feel loved, and I love every moment I spend with you.”

You smile softly at Jake’s words. They are the ones you have always hoped to hear, you just wish they were real. His eyes are searching yours and you feel like he is hoping you will do something, say something. When you don’t respond, an expression you can’t read crosses his face and he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to it. 

– – – 

Soon after Jake agreed to see a counselor, Davis had called you on your cell. You had put him on speaker and you had gone to sit with Jake on the couch to hear the news. Davis informed you that there was not enough evidence for you and Jake to be charged with a contract marriage.

When the call ended you looked at Jake. His head was tilted back over the back of the couch and he blindly reached for you, his eyes closed. “We did it Pip.” His voice is husky and full of emotion. You snuggle into his arms, wrapping yours around his middle. The two of you had sat hugging, not saying anything, just basking in the relief and each other's warmth neither wanting to be the first to let go before you awkwardly returned to the office and Jake went back to whatever he did during his days home recovering. 

Even now the relief of that phone call could be felt. You can still remember the way Jake's arms had wrapped so tightly around you that you could scarcely breathe. It had been one of your first hints in the change in Jake. 

You liked to categorize your time living with Jake to keep your battling emotions straight. First came the pre-sleeping in the same bed era. When you had been sure of your love for Jake and constantly fighting your feelings for him. That was when you still had a fantasy that he could love you. 

After you started sharing a bed it was a time of rejection. A time of heartbreak, and with it came the catharsis of deciding to cut your losses and let your love go.

Next came the accident and you were helping take care of Jake, because above all he was still your friend and you wanted what was best for him.  You were still firm in your decision to eventually leave. Seeing him break down and finally agree to go to therapy had been the beginning of the final shift and it had left you just as confused and unmoored as when he was rejecting you. 

Eventually Jake had been ordered back to duty as his concussion symptoms began to wane. You were on edge with him always being home and it was nice to have your space back. It gave you time to figure out how you were feeling about his change in behavior. 

Jake had started sleeping with you again. His nightmares were all over the place and he admitted one night that being beside you helped him fall back to sleep. It wasn’t hard to convince you. On most nights his nightmares wouldn't even wake you so other than to protect your heart, you had no real reason to refuse, so you relented. 

That is how you found yourself where you are now, awake before the alarm and Jake’s arm slung over your middle, his hand having slipped under the tank top you wore to bed at some point during the night. This time when the alarm rings it is you who turns it off.

“Morning, Beautiful.” Jake mumbles at you and you can't stop the smile that plays across your lips. Jake had been greeting you this way for weeks now and it is doing a number on your heart. Jake lets his hand slide over your skin as you roll onto your stomach propping your head on your arms to look at him. He shifts closer, slowly running his hand from the nape of your neck to your lower back and back up. Each time he smooths his hand down your spine you hope he will allow his hand to slip lower. Your belly clenching in anticipation as each time he pauses at the lowest point before inching his fingers back up to caress the baby hairs on the back of your neck. 

His green eyes never leave your face and you don’t know if he doesn’t recognize the yearning look in your eye or if he ignores it. Eventually he kisses your shoulder and slides his lips across your back to place another kiss closer to your neck, his lips trailing fire as they move across your skin. At your sharp inhale he gets up and heads to the shower and you muffle a groan in your pillow. 

The morning continues on the same note with Jake casually brushing his fingers against yours as he hands you your coffee and kissing the top of your head as he heads out the door, making your heart skip. 

You head into the office to start your day and function on auto pilot. When you and Jake had originally decided that you would move to California the plan was to beat the contract marriage charge and then for you to stay six months or so before filing for divorce. 

You had been comfortable in that decision, despite your girlish hope that Jake would eventually love you. You had never thought it would really happen. And once you had decided to move on you had been at peace with the decision. Now you weren't so sure.

‘I’m in love with you Pip… You make me feel loved.’ Jake's words keep playing over and over in your head. Did he mean what he said? Was it an act for the counselor? Couples counseling was surprisingly difficult with a fake marriage. 

Every session was a combination of honesty and deception. You couldn’t even tell the difference between your own lies and the truth, let alone Jake’s; you didn’t even know who you were lying to anymore. You were always left with a jumble of emotions. 

Jake had been attending weekly therapy appointments for three months now and you were noticing a change in him. You were initially surprised at how seriously he was taking it. He had a bedtime routine and had been journaling his nightmares and thoughts in general. 

You hadn't noticed how much he had changed from the Jake you had known before your marriage until he began to loosen. The lack of tension in his brows and jaw was the easiest to notice as was the way his smiles were easier and brighter. He talked about his nightmares with you in the morning but they were becoming less frequent too. 

It wasn’t always good. There were sometimes days, or even weeks, where the tension would return. When he would have nightmares. When that hollow look, the look that you hadn’t noticed how bad it was until it was gone, would be back.

The biggest change was how he acted with you. Jake had always been one to hug, but those hugs had always been to comfort others. He was different now. He hugged you for his own comfort now, he would touch you in the mornings, never crossing the line you secretly wanted him to cross. The kisses to your hairline and the cuddles on the couch were as far as he would go. Neither of you had mentioned the divorce and you couldn’t help the tiny part of you that was hoping that maybe something had changed.

[wynnyfryd]

more ‘is this your card’ verse bc i love eddie and robin being goofy gay besties

“Ah, hell,” Eddie says. He kicks at his deflated front tire, and the toe of his sneaker comes away with a black scuff. “Shit, I just cleaned these.”

“You clean your sneakers?” Robin asks sincerely, scratching the side of her nose.

“…Steve, please tell her she can walk home.”

Steve nods at the tire. “We’re all walking home unless we fix that. You got a spare?”

“Sure do.” And then because he’s a menace, he rocks back on his heels and throws an aggressively flirty look at him. “Why? You gonna get those pretty boy hands dirty for me?”

Steve flushes bright pink (so fucking darling) and splutters indignantly, “Wha- I don’t- I do not have pretty boy hands!”

“Shut up,” Robin tuts.

“You shut up!”

“They’re literally flawless! Remember that one time we went to get mani-pedis?”

He flushes an even deeper shade, wagging his finger and saying, “Okay, not cool, we don’t talk about—”

“The shop asked him to be a hand model,” she interjects, snatching Steve’s hand out of the air and showing it off to Eddie.

It is, admittedly, an objectively nice hand. Broad, with prominent tendons, pale blue veins leading down to slender fingers. A graceful taper at the tips. Clean nails, soft skin.

Eddie might be drooling a little.

He clears his throat. “Yeah, they’re, uh- they’re nice, man.”

—

“They’re nice, man?” Robin mocks him later that night on the phone when he gets home after dropping them both off. “That’s all you had to say? Seriously? I thought you were into him!”

“What did you want me to say, huh?” He pitches his voice low and raspy, “Oh, yeah, Harrington. Super suckable fingers you got there. Totally wanna see the vein in your hand throb while you jerk me—”

“OKAY,” Robin cuts him off. “You’ve made your point; I am filled with regret.”

[bodhrancomedy]

Last Second Angels’ Brigade (Part 1)

by Bodhrán Mullan

Time stops just before I hit the water.

I don’t mean metaphorically. One split second I’m hurtling through nothingness; the wind tearing at my face, my scream somewhere eight feet behind me, snot and saliva and tears streaming upwards like a comet’s tail. The next I’m hanging nose-to-nose with a frozen wave, the air as thick as amber around my body.

Oxygen rushes into my lungs in a wild and painful gasp. I inhale until I feel like I might burst – my gaze locked onto the surface of the water. There is a fish beneath me, pale silver, contorted into a weird twist as it begins to flee my shadow. That sparks a second of guilt among the fear. Poor fish. It didn’t ask for this.

“You know, you haven’t sworn yet. That’s impressive.”

Lifting my head is a full workout. I swear I can feel my tendons creak under the tension. It doesn’t help much, the speaker is somewhere above me: to the left, I think.

I should be scared, but that has all suddenly run out of my body like my ears have sprung a leak. My heart races and I feel sweat beading on my forehead.

“Usually at this point I get a ‘fuck’ or ‘shit’ or ‘Holy Hell’ or something.” The voice is almost bored, richly accented but from where I have no idea. Not English or American.

“What’s happening?” I croak.                                                           

“Right on cue.” There’s a light splashing, like someone walking through a puddle, and then a pair of feet encased in silver trainers enter my eyeline. They’re standing on – no just above – the surface of the frozen water. “Wait a moment. I’d rather not talk at the back of your head.”

They click their fingers, and I flip onto my back. I don’t turn as much as flicker into position. The sensation makes my stomach heave suddenly. It is more like when you reverse a picture on a phone. There’s a nagging feeling of suddenly being two-dimensional.

There is… a person standing beside me. From my upside-down supine position, they tower above me with a face that’s all out of place and distorted. I can see right up their nose. There’s a pearl piercing in the right nostril. They’re brown-skinned with fluffy black hair and I can’t tell if they’re male or female. They’re wearing a white casual jacket and gold t-shirt combo, their pressed trousers matching the jacket perfectly.

Two massive, radiant, feathery wings sprout from their shoulders.

A lot of things click into place very quickly.

“Am I… dead?”

“In a very technical sense… yes and no,” the angel (because what else could it be?) produces a notebook from a pocket and a pen from behind their ear like a children’s magician, “You’re about to be.”

“Help me.” It slips past my lips before I even think it.

“Can’t. You made the decision.” They chew the end of the pen thoughtfully and shrug. “Free will, human autonomy, my hands are tied, yada yada.”

“What?”

“Big Woman Upstairs. She runs all the audits.”

A swell of fury hits me in the chest. I struggle to try and pull myself up, but only succeed in flopping like the fish beneath me in the syrupy air. “Then let me go! Why are you making it longer?”

“Got to. Last second, you see.” They leaf through the pristine pages and tut quietly, “Stealing a gingerbread biscuit from Tesco, 2004. But it does note here it was the type they smother in icing so I’d call that reasonable temptation.”

“Are you here to judge me?”

“Nah, that’s Peter’s deal. Way beyond my pay grade.”

“Then why?”

They look down at me, raising perfectly manicured eyebrows and say, “I told you. It’s your last second. You got to pay your dues.”

I gape at them.

“You, my friend, are the latest recruit to the Last Second Angels’ Brigade.”

The word ‘what’ forms on my lips, but the air isn’t there to voice it. This is far more bizarre than I had ever imagined dying to be.

“Ah, yes, you probably know them as ‘Guardian Angels’, but the Big Woman Herself decided that was a bit generic, plus you’re not actually angels. Just souls.” With the pen still stuck between their teeth, the angel whisks the notebook back into a pocket and leans their face forwards so it is directly above mine. The sun silhouettes their features into incomprehensibility. “We’ve got a few staffing problems up There, have done for a couple of centuries. We weren’t prepared for eight billion of you lot.”

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Ballet class | Nico Hischier x Fem reader

summary: Nico comes in early to ballet. Yes ballet, he’s getting help to learn how to take stress off his joints, and so is his fellow teammates. I- Dani help him correct his stretching exercises, and his skating.

Warnings: Fluff, (no smut), kinda small 😁👍

~~~

I’m helping out in the NHL for some skating techniques. No, I have never actually been good at skating. Yes, I am a pro ballet student- I actually graduated from premie class about a year ago.

It’s been studied that hockey players, even the good players need skating lessons. I mean, doesn’t everyone? As an instructor in Pilates, and a ballet teacher, I am supposed to help the athletes gain muscular endurance in muscle groups that are rarely thought off.

“Hey, I’m Nico.” I very tall brown eyed man says as he skates, my way. I am in the middle of the rink waiting for my class to start.

It’s 11:24 AM. Class doesn’t start until til 12:30. Maybe he’s here for extra help?

I know I stayed I’m not good at skating, but I can kayak pretty well, my dad was a coach for a little league back home in Arizona.

“Oh. Nice, I’m Dani.” I respond, almost forgetting that I have to answer back. I haven’t talked to a handsome, very beautiful man in like 3 years. Damn, I must be dry.

“Oh haha. I was wondering if I could get extra help? I haven’t tried ballet before and I thought it would be pretty difficult. Especially for a 25 year old.” Nico said, and his eyes trail down to my outfit.

I’m wearing a brown bodysuit, when I mean a body suit I mean the ones that end up being a thong in the back and look like a very small one piece swimsuit. Over the brown bodysuit I have a black vest, and black leggings on. I have white leg warmers on because I am truly freezing.

“If you’re cold, I have the perfect warmup for you!” Nico says as he eyes my mouth shivering.im literally chattering and shaking as we speak.

“You’re beautiful.” Nico says as he helps me back up to the normal flooring as we exit the rink. Wiw, straight to the point.

“Uhh, well thanks, you’re a pretty handsome man yourself.” I say back. Ugh. I sound like a grandma.

Boring.

“You excited for the Nico Hischier warmup?”

“I guess so.” I say as I look up towards his beautiful eyes. They are so brown, they glisten in the light though, and they remind me of honey when they glimmer down at me. It’s like they are full of love.

I’m hooked.

Nico ends with warming me up with some runs, abdomen teaser, and a water break. Now I’m out of breath it’s time for stretching. I told him to show me how he normally stretches before a game. It’s was truly horrendous. He was showing me things that would tear tendons if he wasn’t so flexible in his hip flexors.

“Okay, okay, okay. I’m let’s start on our feet shall we?” I say trying to build him a better routine.

“Alrighty.” He says as he swoops his hair back and he ties his shoe. He rests his hands on his hips, and I could tell he was looking at my ass. I get it. I do have a very plump, and full ass, but I don’t even know this guy.

I bend down about half way, my hips are aligned, my arms are behind my back, I’m stretching my hips to let the stress out of the muscles, tendons, and places that don’t get worked the most.

He follows what I’m doing. I bend a knee and I tune to the right side. I’m in a lunge and I put the back leg down. I push myself into the ground. This stretches my hips, and a little of my quads.

“Ow. Ow!” Nico whimpers from behind me. He seems to be pushing himself to far.

“You need to go at your own pace.” I say trying to correct his mistake.

“No. No, this is how far I can go.” Nico insists to go farther. I get up from my lunge and stand behind him. His hips are stressed, he needs to let them looose in order to skate faster, and even be able to feel more loose when he skates.

“No. I can help you, that’s why I’m here.” I voiced.

I grab my hands, and swing them to his hips, he is in his very low lunge and I pick him up a little bit. I twist him to the right and his pelvis is aligned with his shoulders, perfect.

“I feel better. I can feel a stretch and I think I can breathe now.” Nico announced.

I know, this is my job, I know how to fix it.

“Perfect!” I exclaim, letting him know that I am here for him to lean on.

We finish the stretching and the warmups. Now, it’s time for skating. He skates pretty fast, but his too curvy in his feet, I can tell.

“Let’s do a little ballet first?” I mentioned, it’s not an option, we are doing ballet before we skate.

“Okay, whatever you think I need… angel.” Nico announced, and in a very confidently way. He winked at me.

Um.. yes!!!

I taught him to hold his core, and the posture. He obviously doesn’t need the posture portion but the engagement of his core is necessary.

“Slate time?” Nico exclaims, he’s ready. I think I’m ready now too? I lace up my skates and he’s already on the ice.

He skates back, and kneels down. He’s tiring my skates back up.

It’s 12:30. Class started. All the guys come flooding in knowing that I can see their lunch all over their fingers. I told them, 12:30 on the dot. Not before and not later, exactly at 12:30.

“Oh! Hey Nico, and-” Jesper starts but…

“-Dani.” Nico finishes.

“Okay, skates on? Let’s head on the ice!” I say in eager. Nico steps on first and he grabs a hold of my hand, he’s helping me in the ice.

“Oh, you have tension.” Jack says, letting everyone know that Nico thinks I’m just a pretty girl.

Nico skates with me to the middle and the boys are still doing drills that I told them to do a minute ago.

He pulls me in closer to him, I can feel the warmth of his anatomy. His heart is pounding, not only can I feel it I can hear it. That’s how close we are. I feel like I’m on his chest, it doesn’t look like it, but it feels like it.

“You’re a pretty girl.” Nico says as he reaches for his phone. He hands his phone to me and I put in my number.

Class ends, I’m sure I taught everyone how to skate in a safer way. I also think I have them a pre game stretching lesson.

Nico texts me a picture of us, he must of swiped it from when I was talking to the other devils.

God, he’s a really pretty man.

[bolognamayhem117]

WIP WHURSDAY

Thanks for tagging me @fumbling-flower ! Yeah I'm way late responding to this. Had unexpected stressors that kinda put a headstone over writing for a hot minute. I tag @monsterbrush and @ghostkingart because I can't remember who else writes ATM.

This isn't the usual fare on this blog, it's a little crack fic for some extended family of a bunch of D&D characters belonging to @monsterbrush and I. Arlo, Byron and Badulf are theirs, Nameless Child, Thulgethra (A Lich and Stryag), Lady In Dark Robes and Teroth (If he's mentioned) are mine.

My homebrew campaigns have their own eldritch horrors (Stryags) who originally hail from an immaterial plane. Horrific thought colossi that have to be hosted by a flesh form to exist in this plane and reproduce by combining consciousness and leaving one of the parents to host the new thought being in their… Brain. Thoughts. Consciousness. There's an entire process.

Anyway, it's not BG3 related. Sorry. Enjoy I guess?

Titled: Newborn

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The sound woke him with a quake of this entire awful body. The long, miserable groan which abruptly broke apart into sobs. He'd never heard it from so far away before.

Oh no, what happened? Why am I so far away?

Something had his legs. He kicked on reflex, and promptly startled at the blanket falling with a muffled, soft noise.

Why would that be there? Why would I be here?

He pushed himself upright, looking at what was under him. Cushions. A pillow with a damp spot in the middle. Badulf wakes up like this.

Did I…

A sharper sob rose above the others, and the boy half curled on the couch froze to listen.

I shouldn't have left.

The chill of the hardwood floor bit the soft soles of his feet, even through a borrowed pair of socks. He was cold, but didn't think to gather the blanket around his shoulders. He curled his hands under each elbow and crept toward the wall, where the floorboards creaked less. He began his way to Badulf, toward his convalescent quarters.

Damn that Byron man, luring him out with food, asking him too many questions. Making him nod “Yes” or shake his head “No”. Making him LOOK him in the eyes. He didn't like that. That Byron made him fucking miserable just to look at him, and he couldn't figure why besides the fact that he always made Badulf sad as a Bag Of Drowned Cats.

He missed Teroth without warning just as he reached the door. Teroth was always good at looking after them, although he was also “An insufferable prick stuffed up his own arse,” according to Badulf. Teroth said such weird things about bags. He pushed open the door.

Oh, it was so strange. Seeing him from outside.

I'm here. Thulgethra is gone. I can't tell if it hurts. Does it hurt?

Badulf remained on his side, face turned into the sheet as if to hide it, a pillow crushed in his grip, whole body shaking in an irregular rhythm. The tendon in his neck stuck out, pulled taut by the tight grimace which the boy only spied part of. Badulf didn't respond.

Badulf. I'm sorry. Your eyes… I'm sorry.

The boy’s eye and empty socket watered as he looked on, while Badulf still wept. Why? He stood in the middle of the room now, chest aching and face starting to feel full and wet.

He soon couldn't see, his world a watery blur narrated by the cries of the man he lived in and through for so long. To be miserable with Badulf was only natural.

The boy clenched his teeth at the pain in his throat and scrubbed his palms over his face to clear away the tears. Right, he had to talk. They weren't occupying the same mind anymore. The child's head felt huge and empty and he hated it. That realization only squeezed more mess to clean up from his eye and empty socket.

“EUUGH! What’re you doin’ in here?!”

The boy felt all of himself go rigid and hop a step back at the shout, wet eye popped open wide to assess the danger, even though the sound of Badulf's anger was all too familiar. Normal, even, if it was directed at him. He was safe inside, though, now not so much.

I came. Because you're crying. I came to help you, like I'm supposed to? Like I always do.

Badulf glared incredulously, unhinged, exposed teeth cooling in the air. The child wondered if he meant to attack. Teroth had, with some regret, once spoken of how he violently rejected his… Son. The child didn't like the flipping and flopping in his chest at the concept that it was now his turn.

Badulf's rage fell off him like a discarded coat. Confusion replaced his anger and- now sat up, he reached for the eye which had been replaced and the necrotic socket healed.

“What is… That's… The wrong eye.” Badulf grumbled, touching at the periphery of the eye, as if expecting pain the moment rough fingertips and gnarled fingernails touched it.

The boy had the explanation, and had remembered that he needed to speak in order to tell Badulf that- But how would he start? He didn't like the sound of his own voice either. How do you tell someone that you blinded them, then gave them your own eye? And how do you admit that you don't really understand how you did that?

For now, the child stepped closer. Badulf's panicked confusion called him forward.

Badulf had crumpled around his head on his elbow, bold enough to press his palm over the eye and exploring the scalp which had been affected by the black touch of Thulgethra as well, healed. Healthy. Normal.

He shook his head at Badulf, still unsure what to speak and afraid to make a sound.

Badulf jerked when he began to use the eye to look at his surroundings, back to the interloper who'd crept closer.

“What the fuck are you still doing in here?! And who in the hell are you?!”

Once more, the boy took a step back, this time toward the door. Just in case.

“Are you gonna answer me or are ya’ gonna keep standing there lookin’ like a dummy foal?!” Badulf roared, demanding an answer.

The boy swallowed hard and looked at the wall instead of- it was his own eye which looked back at him so angrily, wasn't it. He had no choice, he had to talk.

“I… don't know.”

“You don't know why you're still in here or you don't know who the hell you are?! And don't you dare say you don't know who you are!”

Well, that left nothing to say, didn't it? His sight warped under a layer of tears again. The boy swiped his palms up his face to clear the salted wetness away again, but now backed toward the door. He couldn't leave, but he couldn't be in here if Badulf didn't want him to be.

A moment of anger overwhelmed him, but the choking silence he couldn't overcome kept the outburst internal.

I didn't ask to BE here you asshole!.... And I don't have anywhere to GO. Don't you recognize me? Would you even want me here if you did?

He backed his way out and concealed himself on the other side of the wall. Then sat. Because where else was there to go? Nowhere, for now.

Badulf's reaction to the moment of realization, when the shared conciseness cracked and they became aware that they were separate entities: “How do I get rid of it?”.

It was unclear if that desire had ever changed. They figured out how to exist in his head at the same time, but Badulf's intention to find a way to excise his passenger -him: The Parasite- had been the reason to find Teregetra. If anyone would know how, it was him. After Teroth was killed, it was never brought up again.

Got what he needed, didn't he?

That left the horror of figuring out where to go now. By himself. Dragging the metaphorical umbilical cord behind him. He wasn't sure what he expected. To keep trying to get Badulf to care for himself? Maybe.

He had to leave. He didn't even have shoes.

I made these bodies. Maybe I can make clothes?

He looked at his hands, but they were just warping blurs under his wet face. The sound of men arguing somewhere in the maze of the Arkwright Estate brought the boy to attention, sat straight and neck craned to listen.

“I don't care what you do! Drug it! Remove it from the premises? Kill it! Just Shut. It. Up!”

“It? IT?! He is a child!”

“IT is a neonate thought colossus, squalling for a tit, after ATTACKING the tit. IT DOES NOT BELONG HERE. IT DOESN'T EVEN BELONG ON THIS PLANE. If you insist on sheltering IT then you must keep IT quiet! Or I'll quiet IT for you! Permanently!”

“You will do NO such thing, Arlo. Leave it. I'll sort it. Not a finger.” Byron sounded off like rolling thunder in the distance.

The boy covered his ears and balled himself up tightly. He was frightened, he felt sick, and hopelessly unable to do anything about it.

The floor under him shivered, thunk, thunk, thunk, harsher and more violently until. Something is getting closer. But it stopped, and that's when the child jerked with realization as his eyes snapped open. Big boots.

Far above those boots, the brown eyes which sadden him without explanation set in a severe glower. Lord Byron looked angry.

The boy averted his gaze and prepared himself to be accosted, moved somewhere, or told to do something. Nothing happened, he watched those boots step softly around him as Byron entered Badulf's convalescent room.

There was a sigh, but he couldn't tell if it was from a place of relief of aggravation until Byron spoke. “Badulf,”

Relief.

The child's ears were pulsing and his skin was cold under his layers. He didn't hear much more than a murmured word or two between his shivers until the voices rose.

Now the aggravation.

“One of your crotch goblins was in here.”

“You- does that look like mine?! He's yours… get up, get out of that bloody bed you dumb sonofa bitch!”

There were the sounds of a struggle, a thick palm striking flesh, and the boy began to haul himself to his feet to slink away. There was some innate awareness of his own fragility. Those men were both much bigger. Age as well as size had blessed strength upon them whereas this newly made body was soft, hard to control, and as vulnerable as a dummy foal just as Badulf had described at first look. He wouldn't survive accidentally becoming involved in whatever fight they were about to have.

A gargantuan hand seizing him under the right arm aborted his escape and forced the held breath from his mouth in a dry gasp.

“Turn around, boy!” Byron demanded, not in a shout but obedience still came with a flinch.

Next his jaw was captured and he was made to look at these men. Badulf was forced to lean close because the other enormous hand was a fist clenched in the collar of his long rest garment.

“Whose face is this?! Hm?!” Byron ground out.

Ranulf looked at the wall and tried to just hold still, but was still forced to dance awkwardly on his toes at being caught like this. He couldn't figure out what to do with his hands. They balled themselves up close to the thundering drum in his chest.

Don't hurt me… Please… Don't.

“A Stryag came outta my face.”

“That came out of your face.”

“...shit. how-”

“The study. Now Badulf.”

—ten minutes later—

“Thulgethra-”

“Lich fucked off.”

“...I thought so.”

“Boy of yours sent him packing.”

Badulf looked at him again, then. The eye to eye contact was weighted by hesitation. It was only occasionally that Badulf looked at him directly like this and usually with his lips sagging down at the corners. Byron kept referring to him as Badulf's boy, which the boy thought was- interesting? Odd. Meant something or other.

It felt like: subtext was constantly being spoon fed when he was still inside Badulf, but now cut off from his thoughts and feelings, he lacked the wisdom to interpret certain things said around him. It felt like bits and pieces were missing, and the fog in his independent mind was thick.

He wanted to get closer, but he was on a low ottoman and Badulf on the cushioned bench.

Byron pushed a bowl of nuts across the surface of the table at him. It was a mix, but there were hooked shapes among the whites and browns and golden colors. These are the kind Badulf loved, but they were hard to find and expensive. If they were salted… He took two and the taste spread over his tongue blissfully. Cashews!

The bowl of nuts was barren of cashews much faster than expected. He began to pick about for the roasted peanuts.

“...Hmm.” Byron drew his attention with a noise and lifted a brow. “You like cashews, hm?”

Badulf likes them, but he guessed that meant he liked them too. He nodded after a moment.

“Junior doesn't talk, far as I can tell. Can get a nod out of him once in a while. He listens well enough so I'm pretty sure he understands everything you say to him.” Byron commented.

“He talks. He said… something when he wandered into my room.” Badulf corrected.

“His room too, Badulf. Had another cot dragged in there. Not that he's been in it.”

“How long was I out?”

“Two days. He slept two hours. Mostly sat there staring at you.” the Lord answered Badulf. This was intel exchange.

Badulf grimaced, so the boy, or junior, or whoever he was supposed to be looked away. He hadn't known what else to do but sit and wait for Badulf. Maybe that was wrong? But what else was he to do? Nothing.

“Doesn't need as much sleep?” Badulf asked.

“Don't know. Can't tell. He's in shock.”

“-The fuck makes you so sure? These things are supposed to be gods, what the hell would he be in shock for?” Badulf snapped. He's irritable.

The child found it frustrating that he couldn't feel why Badulf was irritated.

“That's not a god, he's a boy. And I know Because I'm the fucking expert on screwing up with a ten year old.” Byron growled back.

He squirmed. It was different being outside by himself when people were agitated. Exposed, within reach, breakable.

The nice lady in dark robes with unsteady hands stepped in then, holding a smooth slab of polished granite with something that left a savory fragrance as she passed. She helped him with breakfast, and shivered through helping to comb his hair before that.

On the table the slab went. Dark red filleted snacking meats, light yellow cheese cubes, and a curious glob of white with a spreading knife stuck in it. Oh, and a green thing cut in wedges.

Next the decanter. That is dwarven whiskey. Pungent, awful stuff. The boy winced at the mere anticipation of the smell. Byron took the crystal bottle and a pair of short glasses from the lady and she then left… He swore. The door had neither opened or closed as she came and went.

He looked behind himself and about the room to find her, but she was gone as if she'd never been there at all. How. Weird.

“You have no right to lecture me. None.” Badulf rumbled.

“You're my accomplice. Yes I do.” Byron asserted while taking a thick stack of the sliced meats and consuming two at once folded in half.

Badulf took a cube of cheese and inspected it -or pretended to- while he reached a little too casually toward the decanter between him and Byron. The lord deftly slid the crystal full of disturbingly dark fluid out of the others reach.

Byron's glass was poured, then he leveled a stern glare at Badulf and poured only half as much in the second glass.

The child's mouth watered but not in a pleasant way. Nausea twisted in his gut in misplaced anticipation of the taste of the harsh brew, so he looked back to the slab of snacking foods. He took one of the little green wedges and turned it over between his fingers. He liked the color and the fragrance was nice.

“I want answers, Badulf.” Byron grumbled, but somehow gently.

“I don't know what else to tell you that you haven't already seen,”

The men talking faded into the distance in the boy's mind. Biting into the wedge yielded an odd reaction. It felt like everything in his face locked up and tensed against the taste. Sour sour sour sour. His eye and mouth watered.

When he could open his eye once more, he caught sight of Byron's huge hand seizing two of the green wedges. He carelessly tossed one into Badulf's glass, crushed his own against the rim of his glass, then cleaned the flesh from the rind with his teeth in one smooth move.

Maybe, I'm eating it wrong. The boy considered, then tried to imitate the elder across from him. He barely swallowed the fruit flesh. Long before he could open his eye again, he heard unfamiliar laughter booming.

“That's an acquired taste, Boy. Try this instead.” Bryon chortled.

A slice of the snack meats was placed before him, wrapped around a glob of the white stuff. It was savory and soft inside. That tasted somewhat familiar. He soon began rolling up the white glop in the meats himself, only catching bits and pieces of the conversation.

Much like the cashews, the snack meats vanished quickly too.

Lord Byron and Badulf were talking about the How and Why and When. Ranulf only knew about as much as Badulf did so said nothing. Some things weren't intrinsic, so he couldn't speak on how exactly he was created out of Badulf's thoughts and Thulgethra's profane intentions.

The glitter of something to The right caught the boy’s eye. Right, something shining. The desire to turn and see was not new, but turning to look automatically was. He never got to choose what was looked at when he was tucked away safe in Badulf's skull. He felt dumbstruck for a moment where he was, automatically faced toward the pot plant by the window to see a spider trapezing between two fan shaped leaves on glittering lines of silk. Round and round she went, delicately manipulating the threads… His eyelid began to disagree with him as he watched, it slid heavily over his eye.