#help me tag this

[grapefaygodude69]

Is the goober allowed a burger? Can he be squished? Those are the questions that plague my mind.

apparently yes

day 60

you can squish him but he doesn't make much noise

[mychemicalimages]

A rare non photo related post. Take the time to watch. Support your friends. Support the marginalized. Do something. Anything is better than nothing. Support trans rights. Have a good night.

[davejade]

beach fit!

[oc]

[fennel-tea-and-nightshade]

Things I seem to have projected on my dnd characters

All of them are either not straight, not allo or not cis because pfff why would they? (Expect benny who I haven't thought of anything yet)

The amount of aro specs that I have and also the fact that most of them don't completely lack the ability to feel romantic attraction no, it's just the most hyper specific conditions must be met

Adding to that, everytime Asklepios claimed that he doesn't know what the nature of his feelings are that's one coin in the "Danm Sweet you really went out there projecting a little too close to the sun huh?" jar

Also all of my characters seem to be somewhat aware of their emotional state and seem to be reflecting it in one way or another because I CAN'T PLAY ANYTHING ELSE. All of my characters will have an emotional talk about their feelings because for me that's so ingrained and comes so naturally I really can't help it. I'm an emotional bitch and since role-playing is also based on quik reacting without thinking about it 10 mins straight, I can't help it

Siblings don't play a huge role in most of their lifes, expect benny who had his emotional issues regarding his little sister and Bernd who...don't worry we'll dig into this once tge campaign starts lmao (to be fair, I don't know if Mae had siblings because she's completely cut off from her family)

And now that I'm writing this, it's making me realize that someday I really need to play an only child with a ton of cousins

And I think... that's it? At least generally speaking. I obviously have more things I projected but that's more true for specific characters so maybe I should just do separate posts

[404-brain-not-found-404]

Ikigai

Book 1, Chapter 1: The dreary melodies.

The audience cheered, a standing ovation from numerous men and women, overjoyed with the orchestra’s performance. The conductor bowed to audience, though keeping his head up just barely to see where the prince was.

“Perfect,” Akihiko thought bitterly to himself as he moved to the side for the crowd to give their praise to the orchestra. “You cross the sea to perform for someone and they aren’t even in the crowd…”

Once all is said and done and the audience disperses across the opulent hall decked in gold and light, Akihiko sat at his table with his guard and attendants, slightly annoyed.

It was one thing to be pestered to pick up his instruments for the first time in years to prepare a song in honour of someone else however it was entirely different when said someone did not bother to show his face.

Akihiko sat back in his seat, his suit fabric irritating, nothing he was used to as he tipped his head backwards, looking at the world upside down, staring up at the hall’s third floor. Who decided such an uncomfortable suit would be preferable? Akihiko wished to argue, but he knew better than to question the British on their customs.

Truly, it was the age of gentlemen and ladies, the ones Akihiko heard to be but prim and proper and perfect in the height of their queen’s rule and their growing industrialisation.

However, for all the class-based society was worth, with their thirst for literature, art and music, Akihiko was bored out of his damn mind.

Akihiko stood, causing a stir at his table, his equally bored attendants and guards spluttering life to accompany him.

“Oh, no, thank you,” Akihiko waved his hand dismissively, trying to set them at ease. “I’ll only be going to the bathroom. I’ll return shortly.”

And with that, Akihiko left, rubbing his face in his hands as he tiptoed around the British aristocracy wishing to praise his music with empty, meaningless words.

He felt a headache coming on. His attempt to soothe his temples were in vain as the noise of the large hall drummed against his skull incessantly.

He’d just have to suck it up, wouldn’t he?

Akihiko headed for the stairs, deciding to try his luck at finding a quiet corner of the hall, somewhere to sit and rest and pray that tomorrow would be better.

On the second floor he found nothing but people, men and women tucked into corners stuck in each other’s embraces as tightly as knotted laces handcrafted by a sailor. Akihiko turned tail.

On the third floor, he found silence.

The distant crowd below was somewhat dulled as his feet dragged on the carpet floor, his fingers running over the ivory white balustrade as he walked the area, almost tempted to sit in the corner on the floor and die, what luck was it that Akihiko found a wonderful two-seater couch.

What cruelty was it that a man was sitting there already.

What is Akihiko to do now, to turn around and walk back into that mess of a birthday bash and wish to bash his own head in for the entire evening, or to make small talk with a possibly terribly posh British man who—

Who seemed distressed..?

Akihiko peered more intensely, finding the man’s pale face stained with a bead of sweat, his golden eyebrows knitted together firmly and tears threatening to fall from his blue eyes as he stared straight ahead of him, as if to focus on willing himself not to cry.

Akihiko’s mind began to nag at him. It was not his place, he should mind his business and he should turn around and leave. After all, he’d just end up making it worse…

It wasn’t right, he thought, that someone were to not enjoy themselves at what should be a birthday party, so he walked over despite himself, walking quiet and slowly as if not to spook the man into aggression.

“Evening,” Akihiko uttered, his voice rough from lack of use. He cleared his throat as the man looked up to him, his eyes wide and almost fearful. “Mind if I sit here?”

The two stare at each other for a moment. Akihiko watched as the man tucked a strand of his golden hair behind his ear, swallowing harshly before nodding and turning his gaze away again.

Better than nothing at least…

“Thanks,” Akihiko uttered, sitting down on the farthest end of the couch that he could occupy and tried not to stare at the man.

The silence was uncomfortable and tense, sending an awkward nervousness into Akihiko’s chest. The blond man beside him was clearly not going to talk and Akihiko never spoke first in a conversation… but Akihiko was in it now, so he might as well do what he always did.

“You know, where I’m from, it’s considered bad luck for someone to be upset at a birthday celebration,” Akihiko lied, hoping to have the man open up about his ailment.

The man swallowed, “really?”

“Mhm. Five years bad luck for everyone involved.”

“That…” the man uttered before turning to Akihiko, a small frown on his porcelain like features. “Please forgive me, where are you from?”

“Ah,” Akihiko nervously chuckled, rubbing his neck. “Japan. If you do not believe me, you could say so. I won’t take offence.”

“Oh,” the man’s frown fell considerably, softening almost to an apologetic expression. “Pray tell, are you the Japanese Shinno requested to compose a song for the prince?”

Akihiko felt like crying then and there. How embarrassing it was to not only be sent across the sea to perform for the prince’s birthday but to not even be witnessed by the prince himself. Surely, somehow, perhaps by some divine intervention, the prince had found out Akihiko was horrid and ran the other way.

Despite the burning pain of embarrassment, Akihiko gave the best smile he could, something that went from hideous to merely ugly.

“Ah,” he shrugged, leaning back against the couch and lounging out in an attempt to seem casual, “I am. Though, I’m nearly convinced the prince despises me.”

The man’s face seemed to fall even further, into deep remorse and pain.

“Why?” He asked quietly.

Had Akihiko offended him? What had Akihiko done to illicit such a sorrowful expression?

Akihiko paused, running marathons in his mind to come up with some explanation as to why the man had seemed so upset with his comment.

“Well,” Akihiko started. “I didn’t exactly see him anywhere, not that I know what he looks like, but I hadn’t seen any guards of his around, so surely he mustn’t have been there.”

The man frowned slightly. “You don’t know what he looks like?”

In truth, Akihiko didn’t. Everything was a blur these days. Hours and weeks and years blended together to the point where he couldn’t tell when last he ate or when last his smile was not a falsified pull of muscles, baring teeth, hurriedly scrubbed pale after staining from neglect.

He could say that he knew, once, had been shown a photo of what seemed like a good man but wiped the imagine from his mind in shame. What was Akihiko doing with the knowledge of goodness in his foul mind, in any case? So naturally, over time, too ashamed to peer at the photo once more, he’d forgotten in the throes of time.

But it would be disrespectful to say so, wouldn’t it? Here, in the British Palace. Here, in the halls of the proclaimed good and just. Here, would he look this man in the eye and weigh him down with that?

“I was never told,” Akihiko lied. God understood that was all he knew how to do. “But I know it is his twenty eighth birthday tonight and I performed for him.”

“You’ve never seen him before?” The man said, a tad astounded and perhaps a tad taken aback.

“Never.”

The man pursed his lips together.

“Well, I don’t despise you,” he murmured softly, just barely louder than the murmurs some floors down. “I heard your performance from here and I am quite blessed to have such a wonderful song written for me. You have my thanks, rather than scorn.”

If Akihiko had wanted to die before, he was aching to be six-feet under now.

“Ah, so you’re…” he started, a nervous smile.

The man extended a hand, “Prince Grayson. I, too, haven’t had the privilege of seeing you beforehand and the stage is quite far from here— but nevertheless, your work is impeccable.”

Akihiko took the prince’s hand, relishing in the soft warmth against his calloused, cold skin. He pulled away quickly, such a hand he must not touch.

“Shinno Chibana Akihiko. So, uh,” Akihiko cleared his throat, “your royal highness, isn’t it? What’s bothering you?”

Grayson looked to Akihiko, his blue eyes blown wide as he shook his head.

“Bothering me?” He repeated, laughing. “Nothing is bothering me, Shinno. Why would I be bothered on my birthday? Birthdays are happy occasions, no?”

“Not for many,” Akihiko uttered without thinking and, in doing so, wiped the grin from Grayson’s face.

The prince looked to the ground, his expression one of a man burdened with a heavy, intrinsic shame. Akihiko did not like Grayson’s expression. It was like looking straight into a rude and cruel mirror.

“It is a big crowd,” Grayson uttered. “And I’d like a moment before I’m exposed to more people staring at me.”

“Why would you care if people stared at you?”

The prince sighed, “it is different for me. I know you do not look like you care what people think, but, for me, it is important.”

Akihiko knew that Grayson hadn’t meant it like that, but he felt a terribly stab into his heart.

Of course that’s the impression he gave off. What else could people think? If anything, the prince was kind enough to be kind with his wording.

Normally, when one had unshaven stubble growing beneath one’s chin, it was from a lack of care for the opinion of others. When one’s hair had grown long and shaggy, curling down one’s neck and around one’s face and obstructed one’s eyes, it certainly stemmed from a lack of care for the opinion of others.

A lack of care for the opinion of others.

Not a slow withering away of one’s self.

And look at him, the prince, perfect to be observed.

Every golden curl tended to until perfection, pale skin without blemish or spot and eyes crystal clear and blue like a bright morning sky. Gods, even his suit is neatly pressed, the cut tailored to perfection as if made by the highest seamstress around.

Of course, he must’ve cared and Akihiko did not, he must’ve cared for himself and Akihiko did not— Akihiko with the bags beneath his eyes and his poorly fixed collar and bow tie.

“Oh, no,” Grayson said, his hand just barely touching Akihiko’s shoulder. “I do not mean that negatively, you look most splendid tonight and I do love your hair and eyes—“

“I… I understand, your royal highness,” Akihiko forced a chuckle, pushing Grayson’s hand away from his shoulder. “Your point is clear. What we should be talking about is why being seen brings you such discomfort.”

And like that, even a blind man could see how Grayson clamped up on himself, his lips tight and his expression uncomfortably, unready to divulge the reason for whatever reason he deemed worthy.

However, Akihiko was as persistent as he was terrible. He reached into his pocket.

“Do you want to know what I do whenever I’m having a really bad day?” Akikiho asked, taking out a lighter.

Grayson shook his head, “my apologies, Shinno. I don’t smoke.”

Akihiko gave a small chuckle, “what an honourable lifestyle choice. I wasn’t offering you a cigarette.”

“You weren’t?”

“I wasn’t.”

Akihiko pulled out a sparkler from his pocket, handing it to the prince with care.

“What’s this?” The prince asked, gesturing to the stick in his hands.

“A sparkler,” Akihiko smiled, using his lighter to set the sparkler alight from the bottom. Akihiko watched as Grayson followed the sparks, sizzling up the length. “They always brighten up my day.”

Grayson gave a small chuckle, one soft and light and pleasing to the ear. “How lovely,” he said before he looked to Akihiko with an amused grin. “Do you always carry these with you?”

“You never know when one’s thoughts get dark,” Akihiko nodded. “It’s always good to carry around items that bring joy.”

“What a kind notion,” the prince said softly, watching the sparkler burn out in sparks of gold. “You must be a very kind soul, Shinno.”

High praise for an undeserving soul, nevertheless Akihiko smiled.

“Thank you, your royal highness,” He chuckled in kind. “Though, it is merely natural. Who can stand a dreary birthday boy?”

Grayson nodded, “forgive me. It is going to be a busy week for me and I…” he sighed, “I suppose it managed to creep up to me tonight.”

“Busy?”

“Terribly. There’s another ceremony to hold, a walk through the city, a visit to the hospital and charity home, then a ribbon cutting ceremony and, thereafter—“

“My, my,” Akihiko chuckled nervously, “remember to breathe.”

“And that’s is merely half of my week,” Grayson sighed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, taking deep breaths. “However I am sure you shouldn’t be the one to hear me complain. You crossed the ocean to perform the song you composed for me, it is unbecoming of me to sit here and strain your ears.”

“Hardly!” Akihiko waved a dismissive hand, sitting forward and resting his elbow on his knee. “With a voice like yours, having honey to the ear is hardly a strain, I’d say, but I think I know what could cheer you up a bit.”

“Oh, um, I’m listening?” He muttered.

“Got a lighter? An old one, nothing fancy or sentimental.”

“Since I do not smoke, I do not carry one.”

“Could you get one?”

Grayson paused, looking to Akihiko with a clear look of scepticism, causing a long pause to stretch into their conversation.

“For what, exactly?” He asked.

Akihiko tried not to sigh. “Something joy-bringing, I’ve said.”

“Do you…” Grayson looked around nervously, “do you like fire, Mr Chibana?”

“No, Prince Grayson of Windsor, I do not like fires,” Akihiko gasped. “Do you mean to imply that I seem unstable?”

Well, Akihiko was— but not of that variety! To be accused of being something one was not stung almost as much as being accused of something one was!

“Hardly! It’s just—“

“Prince Grayson, I will have to insist that you, in light of your slight against me, head off and find a lighter and meet me back here for further instruction,” Akihiko said with faux sternness, frowning at the prince slightly.

The Shinno was expecting the prince to instantly decline, or, if truly offended, to frown and retorted angrily, however the prince did nothing but stare at Akihiko for a moment, nod and proceed to stand, walking off to find a lighter.

Akihiko couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle as the prince trotted down the stairs to find a lighter. For all his perfection, Prince Grayson seemed like an odd one.

The Shinno peered down from the balustrade, seeing his attendants and guards begin to grow restless as Akihiko wasn’t coming back yet. They looked around, chattering amongst themselves in equal worry and exasperation.

Akihiko could almost scoff, their concern was misplaced and he turned away. He’d focus on cheering up the prince for now.

Just then, Grayson came back, jogging up the stairs as he trotted over with some haste Akihiko found beyond amusing.

“That was quick, your highness,” Akihiko hummed, standing up from the couch to stand just a tad shorter than the prince.

Grayson nodded, “one of my guards offered their lighter. As long as you give it back, there is no issue.” He handed the lighter over.

Akihiko nodded, “I wouldn’t dream of taking it. Now, do you know of a place in the palace with paved floors, perhaps? Nothing that would catch on fire?”

“I suppose the courtyard.”

“Then I beg you lead me there,” Akihiko chuckled, “before my attendants and guards find me and drag me away.”

“You… hide from your guards and attendants?”

Akihiko waved a dismissive hand, scoffing lightly. “That’s nothing to worry yourself about, your highness. Come, let’s be quick.”

And, lucky for Akihiko, Grayson asked no further question, taking Akihiko through the long and winding corridors until the crowd faded away like the wisps of smoke rising from cigarettes. The darkness began to shroud them and Akihiko finally managed to drop the false smile from his features as the light from windows faded by.

Eventually, they found their way to the courtyard, the building squaring around an open spot of stone flooring, a few bushes here and there in the corners but perfect for Akihiko’s surprise, so he took his lighter out, taking it apart, leaning his back against one of the pillars.

“Now what are you doing?” Grayson asked quietly, stepping closer to observe Akihiko’s handiwork.

Akihiko popped the top off of his lighter, pulling the insides out and uncoiling the spring around the element. “Doing what I love doing for my birthday.”

“You do promise you have no intention of playing with fire, yes?” The prince whispered once more.

“But fire’s fun,” Akihiko grinned, taking the extra lighter and burning up the element from his lighter. “Does the thought of burning terrify you, my royal highness?”

“No but pyromania does concern me,” the prince said.

Akihiko grinned, he took the spring-wound element and tossed it onto the stone flooring, bright white sparks flying around like fireworks in the night sky, shooting around until they sizzled off into nothing.

Despite the fireworks fading away, Akihiko could still see the bright sparks of amazement in the prince’s eyes.

“How did you…”

“Magnesium,” Akihiko smiled, picking up the coil again. “The element in the lighter is magnesium, which has a wonderful property of bright white flames when lit. Would you like to try throwing it?”

Grayson watched Akihiko relit the element, the prince soon nodded, taking the coil between his fingers carefully.

“And I just…” he murmured in amazement, “throw it?”

“You just throw it,” Akihiko grinned, “try not to burn yourself in the process, magnesium burns hot and water only makes it worse.”

The prince nodded, a hint of apprehension and excitement in his scrunched up expression as he took to turning his attention to the hot, white magnesium element.

Grayson threw the element to the ground, another bright flare of sparks flying out as Grayson’s grin grew tenfold. Akihiko couldn’t help but smile.

“Shinno!” called out a deep and exasperated voice.

Akihiko sighed, pushing himself up from the pillar.

Suddenly, all of Akihiko’s attendant and guards stormed over at once, the samurai took knees before the Shinno, the attendants lowering their heads in deep bows as Akihiko’s, for the lack of a better word, jailer walked over.

“Wise and blessed second son of Tenno Chibana, we have searched all over for you,” a man said sternly, walking over in a deep purple kimono, his charcoal coloured hair tied back and his hair line pushed just as far back. “I beg of you, do not wonder off without our knowledge. We are to accompany and protect you, Shinno Chibana.”

Akihiko sighed, feeling the bite of scorn.

“It’s fine, shogunate Itō,” Akihiko uttered, words clipped. “I merely wished to speak with, his royal highness, Prince Grayson a moment. I haven’t gotten the opportunity to.”

The shogun looked to Grayson, bowing his head, but Akihiko could tell in the shogunate’s eyes how he seemed to size the blond up and with a disgusting amount of irritating and anger.

“Come, Shinno Chibana,” The shogun beckoned urging for Akihiko to follow. “Your mother had strict orders for us to accompany and follow you and now that you’ve fulfilled your part in the ceremony, we should return to our lodging.”

Akihiko’s jaw clenched, the only respite was that the shogun spoke Japanese and Grayson seemed but utterly unaware of the conversation.

The Shinno merely sighed, giving Grayson a single bow before walking off with the shogun and his attendants. Akihiko supposed there was no getting out of it now and no sense in putting up a fight either so he left without a word further.

“I don’t think we have to keep going over this, Shinno Chibana,” the shogun sighed, shaking his head as he paced around the room, Akihiko sulking on the couch, his cat in his arms. “What if something happened? You have a wedding, you have an empire, you cannot be risking it to play games with every person you see.”

Akihiko kept his shaky hands running over the smooth, silky black coat of his cat.

The Shinno refrained from saying anything, stating his case or pointing out how silly the shogun was to think that something would’ve happened in the British Palace, perhaps the safest place in the entire country. Kami forbid that Akihiko be trusted to take care of himself as well.

After another good ten minutes of disgruntled scolding, Akihiko decided to set his cat down and stand from the couch.

“I think your point is clear now, shogun Itō. May I go bathe before bed?” Akihiko asked, sounding as polite as possible to coerce the shogun into allowing him. Imagine that, an adult begging for autonomy.

The shogun looked Akihiko up and down, assessing his demeanour for some type of sign or hint to the Shinno’s intentions… and when he was satisfied, he nodded.

“Nothing longer than half an hour. I will be timing you,” the shogun huffed.

Akihiko nodded and headed off to the bathroom.

***upsetting themes. Do skip if necessary.***

The water cascaded into the bathtub, the steam clogging the room up with a white haze as Akihiko stared at himself in the mirror atop the basin, eyeing his stubble on his chin.

It was ridiculous that he wasn’t allowed a blade. Not even one for shaving.

He opened the tap to the coldest setting, cupping the water in his hands and splashing his face. The water ran down his palms, under the cuffs of his dress shirt.

He needed a blade. If he didn’t have one, what was he supposed to do?

His wrist itched. The steam grew so thick it clogged up the mirror and obscured his horrid face from his own eyes. His bandages itched.

He’d been doing so well too. A whole two weeks. Someone ought to praise him right?

He undid his buttons, shrugging off his blazer and dress shirt and tossing it atop the toilet. He wasn’t that scummy to throw it on the floor.

The hot water, scaling and burning, began to reach the top of the bathtub. The running water became a dull, drowned out drumming on its own surface.

He pulled off his bandages on his wrists, white swathe stained red in little blotches like the puddles of ink from an overfilled fountain pen on a pure ivory paper. Crimson orizontal lines ran down from the very top of his wrist right down to his elbow, one vertical scar ran through his arm.

Funny, Akihiko recalled doctors wondering if he’d ever write again. He proved them wrong lovelily, didn’t he?

He closed the tap as the scalding water reached the very top of the bathtub, a silence mixing in with the steam that buzzed in Akihiko’s ears.

Suddenly, something fell onto the bathroom floor.

Akihiko looked around, finding something lying near the toilet. He picked it up and sighed.

He’d completely forgotten about the lighter.

He thought for a moment, and then stuck his hand into the bath, pulling the plug and letting out some of the hot water to make space for all the cold water he’d add.

Akihiko will just have to give this lighter back to Grayson one way or another. He had promised he wasn’t a thief after all.

[tofixtheshadows]

I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.

Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.

Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.

Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.

I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.

He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).

First, we get this:

Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.

They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.

It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.

We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.

What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?

He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.

In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.

Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!

...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.

Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.

And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.

I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.

And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.

Meals are the privilege of the living.

[bogus-nonsense]

love when op links pictures or sites with a little x.

like ok thanks for giving me a little kiss

[stoopidstapler]

SO IVE BEEN GOIN INSANE SINCE THIS TRAILER DROPPED. JUST. SIMON. SIMON. SIMON.

[saelestia]

"MY MAN"

four characters who make you yell "MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN" !! I'll go first !

thought this was a silly idea keep it going! tagging ; @rrairey @httpshujii @cindol @seneon @cheriiyaya @accidentcache @suntoru and anyone else wanting to participate !

[valgeristik]

Like getting a toddler ready for school on a cold winter morning. except hes a grown ass man of 185 years of age. trying to kill a demon.

[vennitrii]

hey man maybe if you think about the fact that dogs dream, and that non-human animals play, and that octopuses decorate their dens, and that there are non-human animals that have cultures, and that ants teach each other, and that fossils exist, and that there are so many forms of language and communication, and that fellow apes look so much like us, and that we are not alone you'll see the beauty and joy

[safelycapricious]

Needle-watch poll

So, I got some vaccinations the other day, and the pharmacy tech seemed unnerved that I opted to watch him insert the needle. And he is not the first to comment on it. I'm willing to accept I'm an outlier and shouldn't be counted, I'm just curious how much of an outlier.

[lil-lemon-snails]

My solution to the "sun is an asshole now" debate is very simple: Y/N favouritism :)

[maudiemoods]

WAAAAAUAGRGGG!!

I love them so so so much!! AURGG!!

[machinerot]

[ave661]

"Be careful who You trust, Sergeant. People You know can hurt You the most."

Some situations inspire you to create renders, like in this case. Turns out not every Ghost is trustworthy. Sometimes someone will stab you in the back and I guess that was my lesson.