#i think the bird may in fact have given up on me

[petit-papillion]

Ed doing a lot better at learning Italian than I am. DuoLingo bird is not happy with me...

Chatles with Ed Sheeran at Miami GP | May 2024

🎥 Scuderia Ferrari

[tkingfisher]

Right! Apropos another post, let’s talk about lawn crayfish aka The Lobsters Beneath Our Feet!

This is Craw-Bob. He’s about three and a half inches long.

Long ago, when I had only gardened in the Southeast for a year or two, I saw an interesting hole in a flowerbed. It was rather deep and had a muddy front porch. I gazed into this hole, thinking “Ooh! Is it a rodent? A snake? A toad?”

And then I saw…the Claw.

It was unmistakably a crustacean claw. And it was in a hole in my yard. My terrestrial yard! Why was there a crustacean in my flowerbed?!

I could not have been more astounded if an octopus tentacle had come flopping out. I ran screaming for my husband and the internet, both of whom said “Yeah, that’s a lawn crayfish, they do that.”

And yes. There are about 400 species of crayfish* in North America, and a not inconsiderable number of them are burrowing species. The devil crayfish, which builds little mud towers, ranges from the Rockies to the Atlantic and as far north as Ontario. There are a number of other species as well. Some are limited to stream banks, but many burrow in lawns, flowerbeds, and other places with consistently damp soil, which means that there is a non-zero chance that when you wander around the grass, a tiny lobster is lurking somewhere beneath your feet.

You would think that more people would know this, but at no point in my life had anyone ever mentioned it to me.

Being me, I immediately set out to determine if other people knew about lawn crayfish and I had just somehow missed it. I took an informal poll—by which I mean I accosted random strangers at the farmer’s market, the coffee shop, and my doctor’s office—and discovered a stark divide. Half the people looked at me like I was telling them I’d seen a lawn chupacabra and the other half looked at me like I’d asked if they’d ever heard of squirrels.

It was not divided by social class or education. The farmer with the heirloom breed hogs knew about them, his wife did not. My nurse practitioner first thought I was hallucinating, then went out into the clinic, and began demanding to know if her co-workers had heard of this. My barista was like “Yeah, mudbugs,” but he’s from Florida, so may not count.

My theory is that if you know they’re there, it’s just a fact of life so obvious that you don’t bother to comment on it, and if you don’t—well, why would you ever assume that any given hole in the ground comes from a goddamn MINI LOBSTER? And since they mostly just hang out underground during the day and don’t really hurt anything, it just doesn’t come up very often, until one day you’re at the farmer’s market, just trying to sell some organic tomatoes, and a wild-eyed woman with a Studio Ghibli T-shirt descends on you yelling “Are you aware of lawn crayfish?!”

(Yes, they’re edible, but it’s a lot of work popping them individually out of their burrows.)

During torrential rains, they will often leave their burrows and wander around, which is how I got the photos of Craw-Bob. My hound spotted him in the garden and poked him with her nose, whereupon Craw-Bob poked back. Hound, not sure what was happening but that it was probably bad, began doing her “release the humans!” alarm bark, and I came out to find her toe to toe with a crustacean who was waving its claws and presumably screaming “Come on if you think you’re hard enough!” in Lobster.

Despite their willingness to fight everything, they’re pretty harmless. The most they do is move soil from underground to a little pile above. I’m sure golf courses hate them. Our local county extension office suggests “These nonprolific creatures should be appreciated like an interesting bird or turtle living on the property.” Some, like the Greensboro burrowing crayfish, are so rare they were thought to be extinct until somebody found one in the backyard.

So. Lawn crayfish. They exist! And could be lurking underfoot as we speak!

*or crawfish, depending on where you’re from.

[thevoidstaredback]

"Guys!" Nightwing shouted once he and Batman arrived in the main are of the Bat Cave, "I have some fantastic news!"

Bruce pulled his cowl off, his amusement no longer being hidden as he nearly failed to keep from laughing.

Everyone had gathered in the Cave to await the two who'd gone to the Watchtower, so everyone was already there to hear the exclamation. Even Alfred was with them all.

"Calm down, Big Bird," Jason said from his place on the meeting table, "What's going on?"

Dick was bouncing on the balls of his feet, "Can I tell 'em, B? Can I, can I?!"

Bruce chuckled, "I'm not stopping you."

He cheered before turning back to the rest of his family, "They think there's a total of three-" he held up three fingers on his left hand, "-of us operating within Gotham, myself excluded because I'm in Bludhaven."

"Wait," Stephanie called, "They think Batman only has three people helping to cover Gotham? They know we're human, right?"

Dick shook his head, his grin only getting bigger. "Nope! They think Batman only has two sidekicks covering Gotham with him."

This caused everyone to laugh, the humor breaking any seriousness anyone would've tried to control to keep on topic. It was nice, Bruce smiled, to be able to let loose with everyone like this. His family was altogether, spending time with one another, doing things that didn't include head hunts or injuries.

Alfred took his place beside Bruce. "This is nice, isn't it."

"It is."

"You can die a happy man now?"

A chuckle. "You killing me off so soon?"

"Of course not, Master Bruce," He's smirking, "I'm simply stating a fact."

"Ha!"

"What're you guys talking about over there?" Tim called. Everyone had gathered at the meeting table to go over final details and slight changes for the set up tomorrow. "C'mon! We've gotta finish putting this all together."

Duke nodded from over his shoulder, "Yeah! New information allows room for some much more fun!"

Jason smirked. "Yeah, old man, Alfred! We want to see if we can get away with switching out with each other. It'll confuse the hell outta the Leaguers."

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he and Alfred joined the kids at the table. "How are you going to pull that off? Despite what you all may thing, the others are all a lot more observant than given credit for-"

"Except the Flash and Green Arrow." Cass cut in.

"Hey!" Dick said, "Don't dis Barry like that!"

"Yeah," Barbra agreed, "And Ollie's whole thing is spotting details. He prides himself on it!"

"If that were true, then we wouldn't be planning on how to mess with them, now would we?"

Tim nodded, "Damian's right."

"As you were saying?" Bruce prompted.

"Well," Jason continued, "You, Damian, and Dick have to be here as Batman, Nightwing, and Robin. They all probably know about me, so I'll stay out of the Cave, but you can bet your ass that I'll be in the Clocktower with Babs, listening in on everything." He looked to Tim and Babs. "Should we set up cameras?"

Tim thought for a second, "If we want to record this, then yeah. I can have them all set up by morning."

"I'll help you set it up before I head out tonight," Barbra agreed.

"Anyway," Stephanie interrupted, pulling the attention to herself, "Tim, Cass, and I could totally get away with running around and messing with their senses and shit. And if we can get Kate and Selina in on this-"

"You've already talked to them, haven't you." Bruce asked. The matching grins on everyone's faces was answer enough. He sighed.

"Having fun," Cass patted his arm, "Bonding."

He snorted. 'Bonding', yeah right. Maybe letting his coworkers be the target of his childrens' whims is a bad idea. Then again, their not hurting anyone. It's all fun in games.

Bruce sat at the head of the table. "Alright. We all know about Superman's ability to hear heartbeats and breathing patterns. He's able to memorize someone's vitals, especially his friends. It's safe to assume he's got mine down, as well as Robin's and Nightwing's."

Damian scoffed. "Changing my vitals will be no issue for me."

Bruce nodded, "Me, either."

Dick nodded along, "Soundseasy enough. But what's the plan?"

"Oracle will call you out for an emergency in Bludhaven. Red Hood will call me out for some information at the docks. We'll met up at the Clocktower and switch costumes." he explained.

Barbra had a manic look on her face. "We should have Steph and Cass stay away from the Cave at first, then have them come in separately, but sharing a costume." SHe turned her attention to the blonde. "You have a spare Spoiler costume, yeah?"

Stephanie matched her grin, "Naturally."

"What about me, Tim, and Damian?" Duke asked.

"How would you and Tim like to be actual bats?" the red head wondered, "Or maybe ghosts?"

"Do we get to mess with shit?" Tim asked.

"Naturally."

"I'm in," the two responded.

"Damian will run distraction," Jason said," He'll be the only one who stays with the JL the whole time they're here. Alfred will have to keep cover upstairs. I'll bounce between the Manor, the Clocktower, and patrol."

"Are you quite sure?" Alfred asked, "That's quite a lot to be doing."

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he assured.

Brice cleared his throat. "If everyone's ready?" Looks around the table before nods of affirmation. "Good. Finish up any last minute changes and preparations. They've agreed to meet at the Watchtower at fifteen hundred New Jersey time so that I can bring them here. Damian, I want you to come with me."

"Of course, father."

"Ready? Break."

Part 3 Part 5

Tag List: @sebas-nights

[pomeness]

I am very insane about this pic so I'm gonna try to "break it down" (more like give my take on what's going on here apart from noa serving 85 kilograms worth of cunt) So yeah, more under cut.

God there's so MUCH going on here. Where do I start.

My take is that this pic may take place in the parisienne slums, where Noa was born. It would explain the graffiti, the broken pavement and the fact that noa is at the centre of the pic. The fact that he's sitting on a glass chair is making me froth. The pose. That's the pose of someone who stands on business.

Y'all know where else we saw glass associated to a character? Exactly. Kaiser's glass ego. Although I think Noa's glass chair represents something else. To me it's linked to Noa's status as the numer one striker. He sits on the throne but the throne is made out of glass. So one day he will inevitably lose his spot (and look who stands right behind him). Noa seems to know about it though, like look at his confident pose. He knows and he is Fine with it. He also lowkey looks ready to fight.

Yeah right behind him stands Ego motherfucking Jinpachi in all his slenderman-esque figure.

Ego: sit back down

Noa: I'm sat.

Before that I also want to talk about chris prince's tits sporty look. He is a vibe. Also I love how snuffy is designed after an eagle lmao the eyes, the hair color, the fact his headband covers his brows to give his eyes the peculiar cut prey birds have. Peak design. Love it. I also adore how Lavi looks like the Uncle who gets too drunk at your wedding and breaks havoc lmfao. His purple-looking eyes are so cool and his colorful hair as well, altho it's toned down.

Also. Loki. Loki is the youngest of them all, and he stands a bit more afar from them. He also looks so composed? Like he's new to the game, he's still not relaxed/confident enough to strike a more casual pose like the other coaches. I love this detail.

Back to Ego Jinpachi. I'm. [wolf tearing his shirt apart meme] LISTEN!!! LOOK AT HIM!!! The fact he is RIGHT BEHIND NOA. The fact he is the ONLY ONE not looking at the camera because he is not part of that world anymore. He doesn't play football anymore yet he's never given up on his sick sick dream. His jacket being a striking (lol) blue... ugh I love it. It's the only colorful note in the spread and it sits on the centre as well + they dulled everyone's colors for it to result more vibrant. Also not to be a yaoi lover but the black-white hair combination hits again ig.

Also. Also thinking about his volume cover. The four chains forcing him to sit on his chair. Makes me wonder how Ego may had been forced to leave football. There's still so much we don't know and UGH I need NEED to know what happened. Because now he's got horrible eating habits and is probably living driven by spite alone.

Anyway. I want to hear others' analysis on this!!!!!

[imthesilentwriter]

Of Crushes and Comfort

Harry Potter x Wolfstar!Daughter!Reader

Summary: You talk to Lily about something very, very personal – your feelings. More specifically, the feelings that you may or may not have towards her son.

Warnings: none, just fluff and comfort. (Let me know if there is more that I have forgotten)

Authors Note: To be honest, this isn’t very good. I suck at dialogue, and I didn’t really know what to write. However, this idea just got stuck in my head, and it’s kind of inspired by this drabble written by @myjealouseyes. In saying this, I hope you enjoy this little oneshot.

Word Count: 1147

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“Can I ask you something?”

Those were the first words that tumbled out of your mouth this morning. It was early, the sun barely risen, casting long shadows across the kitchen. But here you were, sitting at the kitchen table while Lily gently sat across from you, her attention fully on you. The room was quiet, except for the faint chirping of birds outside and the sound of water boiling for tea.

Your fingers rhythmically tapped against the teacup you were holding — your leg bouncing up and down anxiously. Lily could tell, she always could, when something was worrying you. At first, she might have chalked it up to the fact that it was just after a full moon. You always worry about your father, Remus, during the nights you spend at the Potters', and of course, the morning after. But she could see it wasn’t that.

“Of course, dear,” her kind, yet tired eyes oozed love, “what seems to be troubling you?”

That’s the thing, though. You didn’t know whether or not you could tell her what was troubling you. You shifted slightly in your seat, looking anywhere other than her green eyes, which unfortunately reminded you of what was troubling you.

Your gaze drifted outside towards the trees. Somewhere within them was the old treehouse you and Harry had begged for when you were around four. James and Sirius, of course, couldn't deny such a request. Lily had once teased them that you and Harry had them wrapped around your little fingers. Naturally, they denied it, but everyone knew it was true.

“You know,” Lily softly said, her voice grazing your ears, drawing your attention back to her. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” she said gently, “but you and I both know what it’s about.”

You blushed slightly at her words. A gentle smile graced her lips as she brought her tea to her mouth, her eyes conveying everything. She knew. But how could she know?

Your expression must have given you away, because she chuckled sincerely. That was another thing that reminded you of… him. He had inherited her chuckle — that warm, comforting sound, with just a hint of teasing.

“I see the way you look at him,” she continued, setting her tea down. “I can see it in your eyes.” Her smile widened as she studied you, her gaze both soft and knowing.

The fidgeting that had overtaken you ceased, but your cheeks heated up more violently. It felt like you had just been caught stealing from the cookie jar, sitting there under her non-judgmental gaze. Despite yourself, you relaxed slightly at the thought.

A weak breath escaped your lips, and the tension in your shoulders dropped. You turned your eyes back to Lily. “How did you know?” The question slipped out before you could stop it.

She let out a breathless chuckle at the question — not judging, just amused. “A mother’s intuition, I suppose.”

You nodded cautiously, the two of you falling back into silence. Your gaze returned outside, to stare at the trees. After a while, you broke the quiet with another question. “Do you think my fathers' know?”

Now, that really got a laugh out of her. She met your eyes with a playful look. “What do you think?” she teased, and soon you were both laughing, the sound lightening the air between you.

But as the laughter faded, the anxiety crawled back up your spine, making you shift in your chair again. Lily seemed to notice and shifted her own seat closer. “Boys can be oblivious,” she started, “but you don’t have anything to worry about. I highly doubt your fathers would figure out what I figured out.”

You nodded at her words. It was true; you doubted your fathers would figure anything out — especially your father, Sirius, who could be painfully oblivious. Then again, could he be that oblivious?

“Do you think…” you began, stopping momentarily to choose your words carefully, “do you think that… that maybe…”

“…that maybe Harry has figured out you like him?” she finished for you. You froze, taken aback. You hadn’t expected her to say that. Stunned, you just nodded.

Lily sighed briefly before regaining herself. She shook her head, “No, not yet, but…” she trailed off, giving you a knowing look. You looked away after that, a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks. Silence embraced you both, as you sat lost in your own thoughts.

“I just don’t know if what I’m feeling is how you’re meant to feel, you know?” you confessed, catching her off guard for a moment before she composed herself again. “What do you mean?” she questioned in return.

You sighed heavily, gathering your thoughts. “It’s just… I don’t understand how you can tell if you like someone,” you admitted. Then, a thought struck you. “How did you know you had feelings for James?”

She pondered for a moment, her eyes growing distant with memory. “Well, I remember feeling this weird fluttering sensation in my stomach whenever I looked at him.” She paused, smiling. “At first, I honestly thought I was starting to get sick,” she added with a laugh, and you giggled in response. "And then there was the nervous feeling I’d get when he was around."

You nodded, understanding that feeling all too well. "And I thought to myself, ‘Why are you nervous, Lily? He's the biggest jerk you've ever met.’” You laughed harder at that, and her smile deepened. "And every time our hands slightly brushed, it felt like my heart was going to explode or try to run out of my chest."

She paused again, looking at you with warmth. “And that’s when I realized, I had feelings for him.”

You breathed in, nodding, trying to absorb her words. Smiling, you realized you felt those same things about Harry. Whenever he talked to you, hugged you, or made you laugh — those nervous feelings always came rushing in.

Lily noticed your thoughtful expression and reached across the table, placing her hand over yours. Her touch was gentle, comforting. "Listen," she said softly, "why don't we take a walk later? Clear our heads a bit? It's beautiful outside, and I think some fresh air would do us both some good."

You blinked, surprised but grateful for the offer. "I'd like that," you admitted, feeling a little lighter already at the thought.

She smiled, standing up to pour more tea into her cup. "And remember," she added over her shoulder, "whatever happens, you have people who love you — no matter what."

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks, Lily,” you said quietly.

Lily nodded, returning to her seat. “Anytime, dear. Anytime.”

Your gaze drifted once more to the trees outside. Even if you hadn’t talked about everything, you felt a weight lift off your chest. For now, there was calm. Until next time.

[dol--blathanna]

Thinking a lot about Orym choosing a rabbit when asked what animal he would pick if cursed with lycanthropy.

Because, it makes sense. Orym is small, quick, agile, jumps well, and is highly perceptive. That definitely evokes rabbit imagery. But a lot of Orym’s identity is also tied up with being a protector – giving people AC bumps, the shield being as much a part of his fighting style as his sword, even his title: Saviour Blade of the Tempest. He wants to be a “Shield that protects Exandria”; his priorities about saving the gods are less about the gods themselves, and more about protecting the people of Exandria from the unintended consequences and bloodshed of releasing Predathos. And it would’ve been very easy to pick a large, strong predator to try and evoke the sense of a protector – a wolf, for example, an animal associated with loyalty and protecting its pack. Yet Orym chose a rabbit.

And I think that’s interesting, because rabbits are often seen as ‘cute’ animals – but they’re also a prey animal. In fact, they’re a common food source for many animals across several ecosystems: foxes, wolves, wild cats, dogs, birds of prey like eagles or owls, coyotes, stoats, and humans (and that’s just off the top of my head). Rabbits are skittish, easily frightened; to be rabbit-hearted is to be timid or cowardly. They are not generally associated with fierceness or prowess in fighting. Mice and rats are prey animals too, but typically seen as vermin (rabbits are sometimes seen as vermin too, but a farmer could eat a rabbit – they wouldn’t eat a rat). Deer are prey, but they have hooves and antlers that bring a danger to hunting them, for any animal – the difficulties of hunting rabbits are more related to their evasiveness, speed and good hearing than any life-threatening danger they might pose. Rabbits are, first and foremost, prey animals. They are killed and eaten, so that another animal might live.

Which made me think a lot about one of Orym’s other key traits: self-sacrifice. Bait and switch doesn’t just bump up his ally’s ACs, it specifically switches their place to put him directly in harm’s way. Goading attack is meant to encourage enemies to attack him instead of his friends. He literally made a deal with a hag, essentially exchanging his own life for power to protect his friends. How many times has he gone down in a fight? He’s not the only tank – but unlike Ashton (and Chetney, who also uses ‘self-sacrifice’ in his fighting style with his blood curses) he has no abilities to reduce the damage from the hits he takes (barbarian rage and the werewolf form).

(Side note: I think it’s pretty interesting that Chetney, the wolf, has attacked Orym, the rabbit, more than anyone else when losing control. That Orym’s facial scar was given to him by a friend, not a foe).

Of course, Orym isn’t the only character with self-sacrificial tendencies (FCG wins by a landslide), but I just can’t stop thinking about how weirdly perfect it is that he chose a rabbit for his animal. Rabbits are prey animals. They are eaten, so that other animals may live. Orym takes the hits, he goads and switches with his team mates to put himself in danger, he makes a deal with a hag at the cost of his own life. He’s a soldier, throwing his life away for a cause over and over again because Ludinus must be stopped, because Keyleth has put her trust in him, because it’s the only way to protect his friends, to protect everyone, because it’s the right thing to do. Orym is a rabbit. He’s always been a rabbit. That day in Zephrah, it could have easily been Orym who died instead of Will and Derrig – “unfortunate but necessary sacrifices”, as Ludinus viewed the attack. It’s unfortunate they had to die, but it was for the greater good, according to Ludinus. It’s unfortunate that a rabbit has to die, but it will feed a family of foxes, or stoats, or even a hungry human, so it’s acceptable, right?

Orym is a rabbit. He is giving himself to a greater cause that could very easily kill him – he already willingly signed his life away to Nana Morri. Because that’s what rabbits do. They die to feed others.

And the theme of being disposable is present across the entire group, not just in Orym – Bell’s Hells has been called a “party of NPCs” before. Aside from FCG’s death, I’d say Laudna perhaps fits this theme the best: she was literally murdered and hung from a tree simply because she looked similar to Vex, acting as a warning to adventurers she had never met before. But FCG’s death was – rightfully – viewed as a terrible tragedy by the group. Laudna’s decision to remove Delilah, finally freeing herself from her abuser and emphasising she is more, and deserves to be more, than just some disposable puppet – this was rightfully viewed as a very good thing! But Orym seems to be embracing this identity of self-sacrifice instead, rather than this mindset being properly challenged or acknowledged as a bad thing. After all, there’s no time. There’s too much at stake. Keyleth, Bell’s Hells, all the memories of those who have died in this fight, all the people who might die if Predathos is released and kickstarts a second Calamity – they’re all relying on him, right? A rabbit feeding so many animals with his sacrifice. And it’s not malicious compared to the way that, say, Delilah killing Laudna was an incredibly evil, fucked up and unnecessary thing to do. If Orym died to save everyone else, well, at least everyone else would be saved, right? Saving lives is good, isn't it? How could he complain?

Because rabbits are prey animals, and Orym is a rabbit too. Destined to die so that another animal may feed.

Except, that’s not true. Rabbits are more than just prey. They’re highly social, and thrive best living with others. They’re playful, they enjoy running around and kicking their legs just to show their enjoyment. They’re inquisitive and mischievous, even being associated with tricksters in some folklore and stories. They’re also associated with innocence, playfulness, spring, youth – all manner of things, depending on the story or culture. And they’re not helpless, either, even if they might be thought of as such. They can bite and scratch and draw blood quite easily if they want to! In fact, freezing up isn’t their only response when being attacked by a predator, they are known to fight back if cornered. They can sprint quickly, they have excellent hearing and senses of smell, they know how to evade predators.

Rabbits are prey, and they are also survivors. They have their own social dynamics, their own habits and dislikes and preferences. They are more than just a wolf’s meal. And Orym is more than a soldier, too. He’s more than a “necessary sacrifice”, he’s more than just a shield and sword. He deserves more than to die for a cause. He deserves a happy ending, just like everyone else. I hope he remembers that.

Orym is a rabbit. And the message isn’t that he shouldn’t be a rabbit. It’s that rabbits are worthy of surviving, too.

[hitomisuzuya]

JUST READ YOUR POST! I SHALL SUBMIT MY TIGHNARI REQ NOW ❤️❤️ just imagining Tighnari in heat.... trying so hard to contain himself for the whole day then at night he was on patrol with fem!reader and he couldnt hold back anymore so he told the reader he was in heat. AND THE READER BEING A BITCH WOULD TAUNT HIM BY SAYING HE HAS TO CATCH THE READER SO BE ABLE TO BREED EM 🫶🏻🫶🏻 just a whole game of cat n mouse in the forest at night. Obvi tighnari catches her and fucks her into oblivion 😳😳😳

a/n: omg I read something similar to your ask recently. I always wanted to write something like this. Tighnari in heat 😳😳😳 I hope you enjoy it.❤️ I have been waiting for the chance to write for Tighnari again. I didn't think anyone would request anything for him due to certain circumstances.

Tighnari x fem!reader. Tighnari in a heat cycle. Predatory! Tighnari. Cat and mouse game incoming.

Tighnari's heat cycles were particularly hard for him, especially since he'd met you. Before he met you, he always dealt with his heat cycles quietly and private, not wanting it get in the way of his duties as a Forest Ranger.

It took one week into his cycle for him to break. You were on patrol with him in the forest, chatting idly about the weather, or certain birds you see. Your demeanor may have been relaxed, but Tighnari's wasn't.

You smelt so good. Staggering a little, he leaned up against a tree. He was panting quietly, a hand over his mouth. His lips felt dry, and his cheeks were flushed.

"Tighnari? What's the matter? Are you sick?" You asked, your gaze boring into his hazel eyes. You were so concerned, and your eyes looked so beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to gaze down at you as you writhed beneath him, telling you how much he wanted breed you.

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm not sick. I'm in heat," his ears drooped a little, "to be frank, I don't know if I can restrain myself any longer. It would be best if you went back to Gandharva Ville without me. I'll finish this patrol on my own." This was his first cycle with you, he didn't want it overwhelm you.

Like hell you were going back. In fact, you upped the ante. Go big or go home as they say. Reaching up, you gently tugged on his ears. "Chase me, Tighnari," you said. His ears pricked up. "I'm more happy to cool you down," you smirked, "that is, if you can catch me first."

Tighnari sighed. Why did you have to be so difficult, especially at a time like this? "Run," was all he had to say before you took off. "Just wait until I get my hands on you."

Honestly, for a second you wondered if you were in over your head. Tighnari knew this forest like the back of his hand. This was his territory. And so were you. There more than likely wasn't one place you could hide from him in that he wouldn't find.

You looked over your shoulder before cutting a hard left. Tighnari had thankfully given you a head start. You stopped to hide behind two large mushrooms, catching your breath as quietly as you could, pressing a hand over your mouth.

You waited, your body coiled like a spring as you listened for leaves to start crunching as Tighnari got closer.

Tighnari lifted his head, sniffing the air as he ran. "Come out, come out wherever you are," he called out. At first he'd been annoyed, but now he was enjoying it. He felt exhilarated, his heart pounding with excitement and lust. Your spontaneous game of cat and mouse had excited him than he thought it would.

"I smell something good behind these mushrooms." You darted out, bolting into the forest again. Tighnari was hot on your heels now that he had sussed out your hiding place. It was foolish of you to let your guard down.

You looked over your shoulder again. You'd put a little bit of distance between you. You were so distracted with how turned on you felt being chased down like this by Tighnari that you didn't notice a root of a tree sticking out of the ground slightly.

Tighnari caught you as you tripped. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he braced you against him as you both tumbled to the ground.

"I've caught you, my love," he said, pinning your wrists above your head as he crawled on top of you. "You didn't make it easy for me though."

"I'm impressed, 'Nari, I thought I was faster than you this time," You blushed a little, your pride actually hurt a little bit. You couldn't believe you'd tripped like that.

Tighnari chuckled, "Well, you did trip. But that doesn't matter," his hands were already roaming over your body. He nuzzled your neck, his tail flicking with excitement. "I was going to catch you anyways whether you tripped or not."

Tighnari had always put his research and his duties as a Forest Ranger first and foremost in front of anything like finding a mate. He'd never fixated on anyone like this before.

Now he finally had you right where he wanted you. Tighnari didn't tear your clothes to shreds as he stripped you and himself. He wanted to, but you would need something to walk back home in. A feeling of possession suddenly gripped him. Tighnari bit down on your collarbone, inhaling your scent. You moaned as he sucked a bruise onto your skin. "Mmm~, I think you taste even better than you smell," he mumbled, nursing his tongue against the fold of skin.

One love bite turned into two and three. Tighnari was marking you, marking his territory, taking care to leave them in visible places on your neck. He didn't want any of the new recruits ogling you to begin with, but if they had to (and he couldn't blame them) they would see his marks and know you belonged to someone.

Belonged to him.

You were squirming beneath him, spreading your legs so he could grind his erection between them. Tighnari could feel the heat of your need. He was thrilled that you want this just as much as he did.

Tighnari prepared you as best he could before thrusting his cock inside of you. He kissed you gently when you winced softly in pain. He didn't even start thrusting right away. He breathed in a sigh of relief, soaking in the way his cock felt inside of you.

You wiggled your hips a little as you tugged on his ears, making him whine. "Fuck me, 'Nari."

That was all he needed to hear. Tighnari's thrusts were slow at first, his ears flicking a few times upon hearing your moans, especially when you moaned his name. The way you sounded was like heaven in his ears. It made him feel more feverish, bordering on feral.

His pace quickened, his cock squelching as he drove himself home. His mouth watered when he saw your breasta beginning to bounce in time with his thrusts. He nuzzled your neck again before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking as he swirled his tongue it. "I'm going to breed you full of my pups, I promise."

My goodness weren't you the lucky one? The fennec fox mates for life.

The feeling of his cum spilling inside of you ushered in your orgasm. You arched your back, his name tearing from your throat in a scream. He kissed you lovingly as you both rode your high.

Over the next month, it became common for you to isolate yourself in his hut with him. You soon discovered, much to your delight that he was absolutely insatiable.

pps. This turned out longer than I thought it would. I hope it's not too long. I may have gotten carried away a little. Both Tighnari and Scara always seem to make me do that lol😭

[calummss]

Sheldon Cooper Blurb

masterlist

summary: sheldon’s hot new gf pays him a visit

pairing: fem! reader x sheldon cooper

words: 600

why i wrote this? bc jim parsons is so attractive to me and no one writes fics about him

Raj, Howard, Leonard where gathered together in front of the TV, their eyes glued onto the screen showing the newest unreleased footage of Star Wars. Absorbed into their world, a knocking on the door was heard.

Knock knock

Leonard stood up only to be ambushed by a half-jogging Sheldon, a rare sight for mankind, as he went towards the door. ‘That will be for me.’

Sheldon opened the door to reveal the prettiest girl any of the boys had seen. Their mouths gaping at her as she hugged Sheldon to greet him, Sheldon accepting the hug. Second weirdest thing to have happened in the apartment since Sheldom speed walked to the door.

‘Sheldon, who is this?’ Leonard asks, his tone between sweet and hostile.

‘Yes, Sheldon, who is this?’ Howard repeated, his usual sarcasm sweeping his words. ‘You didn’t happen to tell her that you are Sheldon Cooper.’

‘Well of course! Meeting Sheldon Cooper is a great honour, you know when I was—‘

‘Introduce us,’ Leonard cut Sheldon off, taken a back a bit.

‘Ah yes. Meet Y/n, my girlfriend .’ Sheldon introduced you, as you gave them a small wave, the three boys staring at you like Sheldon had given them amazing news but all they did was look shocked, their eyes and mouths never shutting. ‘I met Y/n at the Cheesecake Factory after Penny got my order wrong. I don’t know how that happened since I always order the same thing but one's simple mind can be overwhelmed with orders I suppose, even if it was only us there…’

‘Hi, I’m Y/n.’

‘Your Penny’s friend?’ Howard asked.

‘Yes.’

‘And Penny made me go on a date with Bernadette?’ He stared ahead of him, eyes almost popping out of their sockers

Sheldon turned his head, unaware of how to react to Howard’s outburst.

You also gave Sheldon a confused look to which he replied, ‘No worries, Social interaction with a spark of unsolicited germ exchange.’

‘So how did a theoretical physicist pick her up?’ Leonard gaped at the pair.

‘Oh I didn’t pick her up. I think you’re referring to is how we met?’

‘Yes, Sheldon…’

Suddenly Penny bolted through the door, phone in hand, ‘Sheldon has a girlfriend!? Y/n it’s you?’

‘If I may resume to Leonard’s question, I was minding my own business staring at the bird I was sure was out to kill me when she walked up to me with the words: You’re cute. I want you. Quite demanding if I might add.’ Sheldon gave you a brief look. ‘Straight to the point which is just right up my alley.’

‘You went up to Sheldon?’ Howard checked in on the facts with you.

‘Yes.’

‘I’m sorry what?’ He replied, his eyes crossing.

‘Have you met him? Like met him?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you know he’s an extremely arrogant, narcissistic, ruthless, entitled, self-righteous, cold, condescending, selfish, pompous person, right?’ Howard said.

‘He’s also cute, lanky and gets me horny just doing his silly physics rants so if you don’t mind,’ You grabbed Sheldon’s hand, third weirdest thing to have happend in the apartment, ‘I have to give him something else to think about,’

The mouths couldn’t have been wider.

‘But today is game night,’ Sheldon whined.

‘Sheldon…’

Sheldon avoided eye contact, his eyes darting across the room.

‘Sheldon.’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ He responded immer, holding your hand and following you to his bedroom, leaving Raj, Howard, Leonard and Penny alone.

‘Did Sheldon just bring the hottest girl in the state of California through this door?’ Raj said.

‘Yes.’ They all said union.

‘And he’s getting sex even though he didn’t ask?’

‘Yes.’

‘Dammit.’ Howard hissed.

[theanxiousbookdevourer]

I love learning all these little, weird things about the characters in Disco Elysium. Like, is Bird's Nest Roy not one of the weirdest little guys you've ever met?

He doesn't like beaches.

He doesn't like music...

... but he records random sounds...

... including the Col Do Ma Ma Daqua.

He also spends about 10% of any given interaction spacing out.

But to get a little more serious, I think there's a lot more to him. I even think it's possible to draw parallels between Bird's Nest Roy and Lt. Kim Kitsuragi.

He, like Lt. Kitsuragi with the RCM, was part of a voluntary clean-up organization...

... despite knowing it wouldn't do much good.

He's also very willing to look away and distance himself from things of which he doesn't approve or doesn't want to get entangled.

In this very same exchange, you can see Lt. Kitsuragi try to distance himself from your bad decisions in the same way, if you choose to take Pyrholidion.

I think the biggest difference between Bird's Nest Roy and Lt. Kitsuragi is that Bird's Nest Roy acts like he's a cynic...

... but the fact that he tried to help with the People's Pile makes me think he's not.

In fact, he likes imagining, losing himself in his own thoughts, more than anything real.

Did you see that? Did you get what he's saying?

The Man from Hjelmdall may not have been real before the stories were written and read, but he's real now, because he's in the stories.

I don't think Lt. Kitsuragi agrees with that.

But I do.

And if you're reading this post, I bet you do too. You had no idea who Bird's Nest Roy or Lt. Kim Kitsuragi or Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau was.

But you do now.

[ticklytums]

Better Days

(Husk and Alastor didn’t always have just moments of contention, and after Alastor’s attempts to ‘preen his wings’ turns devious, Husk finds the perfect payback…and Alastor may have discovered a new ability.)

Hints of Radiohusk my beloved, taking place back in the past with two gay dads and their daughter.)

“I don’t think Rosie much appreciated you leaving feathers strewn across her floors,” Alastor drawled as he and his compatriot made their way up the porch leading up into their manor. “In fact that’s definitely the reason we were sent home so early.”

Husk rolled his eyes as he resisted the urge to close the door in Alastor’s face. It was a temptation he might have given into if one of his arms wasn’t occupied with their sugar comatose little lady. Poor thing was still bloated with cake. “It had nothing to do with me, asshole. It’s because the little ankle biter here ate all of the desserts. I think she ate most of that cake herself.”

“No surprise there,” Alastor mused as he reached his arms out to take their sleepy bug into his own arms, handling her with the care and attentiveness few would see from the radio demon. Few were privileged to ever see such tenderness, unless they saw the radio demon and the girl that had become his daughter.

Husk couldn’t help the softer look that came to his face as he looked at the little face smushed into Alastor’s chest over his shoulder, her one eye blinking sleepily for a moment, before shutting once more.

As the duo disappeared down the corridor of their manor, Husk returned back to his wings, picking meticulously at the stray feathers starting to fall out of the open appendages. This had to be the worst thing about being an avian based creature. Part avian anyway. 

Stray feathers were just so unbearably itchy when he went into a molt. Hearing Niffty and Alastor complain about the mess his feathers left on the floor didn’t make things any less annoying. 

Not wanting to give Alastor a reason to nettle him (as if he needed a reason), Husk picked up the grooming brush, tilting his crimson wing at every angle to try and reach all the feathers. It was useless though, his body wasn’t meant to bend that way, and he was certain he heard a crack when he tried. “Ugh, fuck.”

“Require some assistance?”

“Shit!” Husk yelped out loud and fumbled with the bristled brush, which Alastor gleefully caught in one hand.  “Why do you always have to spring out of the shadows like some fucking cryptid?” he snapped, which only seemed to make Alastor all the more amused.

“It’s more fun! Now, having some trouble are we?” he drawled, watching as the feline tried biting at a few of the itchy feathers. “Goodness, you’re shedding everywhere, like a caged little bird.”

Husk’s narrowed eyes said he didn’t appreciate the metaphor—less so the ‘caged’ part of it. “It’s not my fault, I didn’t ask for this fucking form.” He mewed in annoyance as Alastor grabbed a hold of his wing, sending him nearly off the barstool at the sudden shift of gait. “Alastor knock it off!”

“Oh come now,” the deer drawled, giving that crimson tip an innocent little tug as Husk meowed in annoyance and tried to bat him off. “I’m simply attempting to assist you! You can’t possibly reach the inner part of your wing, or the spine of them! Especially not the inner part! Come now, don’t you want a friendly hand?”

“No,” Husk drawled, trying once more to flap his wing free of the prick. He could only flap and move it so much while it was being held unless he wanted the bone to snap. “Keep your ‘friendly’ hands off me-ehe!?” He yelped as Alastor started meticulously running the bristles along the spine of his wing. Fuck. He knew what he was up to.

“Alastor knock i-ihit ohoff!”

“Ah no, I do not believe I will!” Alastor chirped as he started rubbing the bristles along the inner downy of Husk’s wings, pulling a snort as he tried not to burst into laughter. He attempted to channel it instead into a growl, but the bright giggles betrayed him.

“You fuhuhuhucker! Knock it ohohoff!” Husk made a swipe for the radio demon, slightly more light hearted in nature than any time he’d swiped at him in the past. Alastor dodged the swipes, and for that act of rebellion, rubbed the bristles deeper into his wing.

Husk’s laughter escalated as he tried to pull his wings against his side, but it was useless as Alastor kept his wing held out firmly. The bristles scrubbed further into the ticklish downy, and Husk’s laughter went up an octave. “Al nohoho! StAHAHAP!” He snorted as the deer’s claws gave an impish tweak into the underwing, and his tail thrashed madly.

This wasn’t an especially new occurrence since Alastor had learned he was terribly ticklish. In fact, he’d found ways to torment him with it as often as he possibly could.

“AHAHALASTOR NOHOHO!” Husk begged through raucous cackles as his paws scraped against the hardwood flooring, giggles spilling out through clenched teeth. The bristles felt like ticklish little spikes rubbing into the wing pits. God he was going to fucking murder this man.

“Ohhh, you make the most adorable little sounds when I get into your wings.” Alastor grinned viciously as he twiddled his brown talons, the crimson tipped claws running along through the feathers. “Hmm, I should see if there’s spare feathers that need to be plucked.”

“Thehehehere’s not!” Husk yelped, his eyes widening in horror when he realized what he was indicating. “Don’t do it! MEOW!”

He turned his face into the deer’s shoulder and muffled more shrieks of laughter into it as he felt those mischievous deer claws crawl into the downy. The claws scribbling were far more ticklish than the bristles, and far more purposeful of what he was intending. “YOU FUHUCKER! THAT’S NOT PICKING FEATHERS! KNOHOCK IT OFF!”

“Stay still, I don’t know why you insist on making a simple grooming session so ridiculously difficult.” The amused lilt to Alastor’s voice suggested he knew exactly what he was doing, and Husk let off a disgruntled hiss. As much as he could through the giggles trying to slip through.

“Y-youhoo aren’t fucking slihihick!” Husk snarled, attempting to swipe a paw through the air, unsure if he’d get a scratch in or a smack. His wings flapped more, and giggles were quick to spill out as Alastor’s fingers explored through the downy of his feathers.

“I’ve no idea what you mean, Husker! You know how much I do love just feeling the soft feathers on my skin.” It was the poor choice of wording the poor bastard didn’t seem to realize, and the perfect revenge was already in motion in his mind.

Come to think of it, he was quite certain he’d seen a similar giggling reaction when Niffty had playfully rubbed the feathers of her duster over him. It was a theory he hadn’t the courage to test out, but found himself more emboldened tonight.

In a sudden maneuver, Husk had spun around and swept the deer suddenly with a foot. He was impressed with himself that he’d actually managed to catch Alastor off guard, a rare feat in itself. “Well let me help you feel it then.”

Husk’s front and back paws perched together on the edge of the stool, his tail flicking with agitation and excitement as he leaped onto his prey. He was half expecting Alastor to disperse within the shadows. He knew he could. He wasn’t as fast as the radio demon, and yet the deer allowed himself to be jumped onto. He in fact allowed himself to be pinned down.

Then again, Husk knew Alastor wasn’t completely like a lot of overlords. He enjoyed the pushback. He loved to see just how many ways this captured little soul of his could utilize its claws.

Granted, never did Husk think he’d be using them to scribble at the deer’s tummy, but hey, any way that he could get Alastor back was a win in his book.

“Husker…” The dials turned in the deer’s eyes, but they blinked away with mirth as he squealed, feeling Husk indent his claws into his belly.

Husk’s ears pricked upward in a combination of disbelief, sadistic amusement, and just an iota of fondness. So Alastor was ticklish.

Delightful.

“Don’t you “Husker’ me, you son of a bitch,” he scoffed as he pushed into the soft skin, delighting in Alastor’s cackles. “We both know that you love when I use my claws,” he drawled, smirking as he fluttered over the wiggling skin. “Don’t think I’ve ever used ‘em this way on you before.”

Alastor knew Husk was right. He did so enjoy their antagonistic relationship and all the fun duels that would come of it. It was interesting to see just how many ways the kitten could use his claws. But, why this?

“Cat got your tongue?” Husk’s claws skittered up further to tuck under Alastor’s arms and the staticy cackles shrieked out even louder. His hooves beat against the floor as his hands found purchase against Husk’s, but oddly enough didn’t seem to care about moving them.

“Oh I knew it,” Husk grinned viciously at the overlord as his nails traced between his ribs. “You’re enjoying this.” He was pleased to see the bright dusting on his cheeks and the angry glare. It made sense honestly. Alastor loved games and he loved laughter. This kind of combined his two favorite things.

He decided he was being too kind to the deer by letting him see where he was targeting next, and so his claws slipped up underneath Alastor’s suit. The microphone feedback it elected made him wince, but he chuckled as Alastor squealed.

“NOHOHOHO! HUSK DOHOHON’T!”

Husk smirked as he started a slow drumming along the deer’s belly, endeared at the way the feline claws searching around his bare tummy brought forth little fawn like squeals and snorts. Husk couldn’t believe how adorable and childish the poor thing sounded. “You really are just a little fawn, aren’t you?”

He rolled his eyes as Alastor made an attempt to be threatening, antlers branching out for a moment. A punishing scribble across his tummy made them retract as Alastor bucked against the ground. “Yeah yeah, none of that now. Don’t want to ruin our game already by being the radio demon, huh?”

He for one was enjoying this. Who wouldn’t be allured at the idea of having their overlord at their mercy for any reason? Although the rare, lighter atmosphere surrounding them was…nice.

Over the years their antagonism was afforded rare moments of softness, especially with Niffty in their lives. A glimpse of the friendship that had been sullied by a contract.

Alastor’s genuine laughter was so bright and airy. It bubbled out in glee, with a nearly precious flick of his ears. Husk couldn’t help but notice he was making very little attempt to get away, almost surrendered into it as they played.

Well. Didn’t want to make it too comfortable for him now, did he? Husk readjusted his position on the poor deer, and inched his claws further up his suit. He was pleased to see his prey kick and struggle more. “You know, you’re always trying to antagonize my cat behavior, so how about I just make it easier for ya?”

His claws planted along the deer’s bottom ribs and tummy, and began to knead and massage into the sensitive flesh there. The potent little pokes, almost sharp enough to hurt, got even louder shrieks of laughter.

“HUSK STAHAHAP!” Alastor snorted, yelped, and barked out more staticy laughter through screeching microphone feedback. When Husk’s claws got dangerously close to his bellybutton, he nearly babbled out a plea for mercy.

The feline blinked in surprise and just barely traced his claw along the edge of his bellybutton. The effect was electric. Alastor kicked and bucked, and to his horror and humiliation, a deer bleat squeaked out.

Husk blinked for a moment as that…frankly adorable sound processed. Then to Alastor’s further horror, he burst into laughter. “Ohoho my fuck! Whahat was thahat? That was so cute! Did I push a button or something?”

He rose an eyebrow when he saw the dials return to Alastor’s eyes as the radio host growled. Scoffing, Husk’s claws flexed back into the soft flesh of his belly, and Alastor fell back into laughter. “Put those antlers away, I’m not gonna tell anyone. But…I do feel like pushing buttons.”

Alastor gave him a warning look and shook his head, but Husk only nodded back without fear and tasered his claw into the deer’s bellybutton. The radio host screeched and now the feline was struggling just to keep him pinned down.

It seemed he had found ‘the death spot’, and Husk was fully intending on exploiting the spot to its fullest extent, if he could just get the cannibal to stay still. Each dig was sending off electrocutions of sensitivity, and nearly pulling a hiccup from the deer.

The deer beat and smacked his hooves uselessly against the ground, until finally he’d kicked off a shoe. Husk blinked as it went flying, and when he saw the little hoof that was struggling to curl in, he felt the fear radiating off of the cannibal.

Hm. Maybe he hadn’t found the deer’s death spot yet. Husk turned to the wiggling hoof, and his eyes dilated playfully, following the movement. He turned and jumped on it, and didn’t expect Alastor’s resulting reaction.

“NONONO!” Alastor tossed himself onto his stomach and began hilariously scrambling his claws into the floor. “Husk please, you’ve gotten me back!”

“Please?” The feline looked back at him, taken aback and very very amused. Alastor must be really bad here if he was begging. If anything, that just ensured he had to try this spot. Husk smirked as he grabbed the overlord’s ankle, and just barely grazed a nail along the arch of the deer’s foot. The resulting scream was glorious.

He was deathly ticklish on his hooves, it was the only real spot that could break him quickly. If Husk found that out, it’d be the end for him! Yet it seemed it already was, as claws scribbled relentlessly up and down his hoof.

Alastor howled with laughter into the floor. He beat his fists, slamming repeatedly into the hard wood as he hiccuped and shrieked, past the point that he could get out any words.

“Shhh, keep it down man,” Husk pretended to scoff, thoroughly enjoying each desperate scream and babble. “You’re gonna wake Niffty and we’re gonna have to deal with her. Don’t want her seeing you like this do ya? She’d love to join in.”

His claws found the deer’s toes, drilling in. The scream from Alastor reverberated with feedback as mirthful tears squeezed from his eyes. Another unheeded babble of mercy squeaked out, and before either of them realized it, strange shadowy appendages flailed from his form.

They careened into Husk, who yelped and fumbled off of the deer. He shoved himself up off the floor just enough to see the strange tentacles waving in the air. Alastor was staring at them with wonderment.

“The fucking fuck?!” Husk yelped out in disbelief. “What the shit are those? Where did they come from? Never fucking seen them before.” He couldn’t help but feel fear curdling in his gut. Alastor had amassed new powers?

Catching his breath, the deer curiously ran a hand along one of the shadowy things. It felt almost leathery and cold. “How interesting! Of course I have made quite a few new deals lately and have honed some new abilities. Perhaps this is one of them?”

“Yeeeeah, uh, I’m not a fan.” He backed up from his boss, not liking how the slithery things were looming over him. “Put them away Ursula.” To his horror, Alastor seemed to have clued in to the same thing Husk was fearing. “No. Don’t you even.”

“You really think you can get off tickling the radio demon without receiving punishment in return?” Alastor chuckled sinisterly as his eyes blackened and dials glowed.

“It was revenge for the wings, you asshole!” Husk scrambled to get up but shrieked as the tendrils were faster. A wobbling grin plastered his face before he could stop it, even as he hissed and swiped at the tendrils. 

“And now I’m having my own revenge.” He was pleased to see his prey squirm. It was always fun to watch them struggle, and flop about until they realized freedom was hopeless. “You should feel honored, Husker! You're helping me test out these new powers!”

Husk’s claws made hilarious squeaking sounds as they grated across the floor. “Oh yeah, fucking fantastic,” he drawled as he was pulled closer and closer to Alastor. “My life’s long aspiration has been to help some weirdo with his newfound octopus powers.”

A bark of laughter couldn’t even be concealed as he felt the tip of the tendrils flick along the pads of his feet. “Nohoho! Ahahahalastor! Dohohon’t, you priiHIIIHIHICK!” The tendril exploded in wiggles along his foot, delighting in the way the poor feline screamed and kicked.

“Hmmm, the volume dial seems to be acting haywire! I don’t appreciate such a muffled tone!” Alastor grinned and grabbed Husk, yanking him off his stomach and onto his back where he could hear his laughter and screams freely. “Think Hell would appreciate a different broadcast?” he teased.

“YOU BEHEHETTER FUCKING NOHOT!” the bartender yelped, horrified by the mere thought of it. He wouldn't put it past Alastor and that thought horrified him. He meowed loudly, much to Alastor’s delight, and attempted to batter the deer with his wing. The feather attacking him brought bright giggles from Alastor, whose appendages were having a hard time focusing now.

After a few moments of attempting to school his concentration back, Alastor managed to utilize even more of the tendrils and Husk found himself at the radio demon’s mercy as a few more of them drilled into the hollows of his wings. It was nearly overwhelming. Alastor never had the ability to attack so many spots at once.

Husk shrieked and flapped his wings desperately, the appendages battering more at the deer and flailing uselessly. He kicked his feet, raucous cackles and gruff laughter muffling into the floor. “AL NO! AL STOP STOP!” he pleaded, screaming when the radio demon only seemed to increase his ferocity.

Alastor was satisfied to watch his companion struggle, but when he noted Husk’s face starting to twist up in discomfort, the game lost its appeal. Bodily harm wasn’t what he was going for this time, so he stopped. It wouldn’t be as fun to hurt him this time around. It would ruin the spirit of their little game, and…Alastor found he rather enjoyed it.

Husk was intent to quickly scurry away before his boss changed his mind, but to his alarm, he found those tendrils winding around his arms. Panic prickled for an instant, but before Husk could really struggle he was yanked down onto the deer’s chest.

Crimson arms had enveloped him and for a moment the feline could just blink. This was even rarer than the past few minutes had been. Alastor did have a penchant for physical affection, but it never seemed genuine. Normally it was a gesture that could be used to degrade him, like the way he scratched his ears. An actual hug was rare.

Husk found his ears folding back blissfully and purrs rumbled, betraying the annoyed struggling he’d tried doing. At least he was pleased by the soft giggles that he got when his paws unconsciously kneaded the deer.

Try as he might to maintain a healthy professional distance from Alastor, he had a way of reeling him in, and trapping him in this strange little familial unit they had created. A family by chance, circumstance, and contracts. To an onlooker, he knew they looked like two dads and their daughter when they were out on a stroll. …Wasn’t far from the truth.. …Perhaps that’s one reason the chains hurt so bad sometimes, still feeling them tight in his subconscious.

No matter any affection that was exchanged between them both, or the better days they shared, those metal links would forever poison anything they could be. The thought was enough to sour Husk’s expression. Alastor noticed, and so in a last moment of daring cheek, feline instincts had him groom Alastor’s hair and face.

“Oh-eugh! Disgusting!” Alastor groaned, quick to shove his pesky cat to the ground and wipe the saliva off him. “You and your damn grooming. Sullying a good moment between us.”

It ain’t that that sullied it, Husk thought, but kept the bitter words to himself. Instead he sat up against the floor and smirked over. “Thinking of using your new playthings on Niff?” He was amused to see Alastor still toying with the tendrils like a child.

“Use what on me?” There their girl stood, with her adorable red bob of hair lopsided from sleeping on it as she rubbed her eye.

“Ohhh, just a fun little game!” Alastor looked at the little lady and gave a scheming smirk—the kind that had Husk’s stomach doing flips. “I’ll give you both ten seconds to get a headstart.” He grinned as his tendrils suddenly sprung out of the shadows, flicking and rippling through the air.

“Shit—move aside Niff!” Husk yelped as he skidded across the flooring, and Alastor was quick to give chase, the merriment drifting through out their manor.

[youcouldmakealife]

My Bi-Weekly Update for KS Peeps (but also everyone)

I have returned from my journey to a one-room cabin the remote wilds of…a 45 minute drive from my house (I'm practically Thoreau! Except his was even less remote.)

Equipped with an internet connection that only worked if I walked up a staircase and stood on a hill, I successfully beat the online distraction demons, only to fall prey to other distractions such as squirrels scampering on the roof, the loudest fridge in the province of Quebec, and 'what was that noise' (usually the answer was ‘bird. again.’ That or ‘semi on the highway’, because my remote wilds were not that remote nor that wild).

Bird noises were in fact so plentiful that at one point I may have stooped to telling a Canada goose to shut the fuck up (anyone who has ever met one knows they deserved it). But I didn’t doomscroll even once! And my phone had service, so it wasn’t just because I was incapable of it!

While I’m physically home now, I’m probably only nominally back for the rest of the week. A Robbie update’s coming tomorrow, and the Patreon poll on the usual day, but that's probably the extent of it — at the cabin I started work an hour after I woke up and kept at it until about an hour before bed (I did take breaks, I promise!), so I fully anticipate my body will be taking revenge on me very shortly, as I deserve.

But I accomplished everything I set out to do on my little editing trip (and then some), and can finally say, with confidence, that Between the Teeth is coming soon.

Okay but how soon, Taylor.

Like 19 days.

(July 2nd* to be exact)

*this date was almost entirely chosen because I think it’s funny to publish it between Canada Day and the 4th of July, given that it’s David and Jake. No favouritism is reflected in which day it’s closer to (she says, shamelessly flaunting that extra ‘u’); the 2nd only beat out the 3rd because Tuesday is publishing’s traditional release day.

[henrysglock]

D.A.D. and The Squawk: Radio-Based Mindflayer Tracking Devices

The WSQK van was leaked showing it with the radar dish/antenna that was originally in Steve’s car:

I've talked before how the antenna was reminiscent of Bob's D.A.D. (Directional Antenna Device) from TFS, which he, Joyce, and Hopper used to track down the weird radio emissions that happened every time Henry had a Mindflayer attack.

Now that the van has it, I want to talk about the WSQK slogan:

"The Squawk"

What's so special about the squawk? Well.

First: The Definition

The main protest we see is in ST3, when a guy named Henry is leading a protest against the construction of Starcourt (a cover for the Russians trying to open a gate to the UD, which would activate the Mindflayer ...interesting connection, that). It also has other ties to protesting and Starcourt, like Murray's code name being Bald Eagle and him/Nancy "squawking" about Barb's death re: HNL and the UD. You could even say Terry "squawked" about Brenner, and we all know she has an absolutely insane number of ties to both in-show Henry and TFS Henry. There's also the fact that it's vomiting rainbows vs Will vomiting up slugs vs the ties between the slugs, the Mindflayer, and Brenner/HNL.

So right off the bat the slogan is a tie to Henry, Brenner/HNL, the Mindflayer, and fighting The Man.

Second: Squawk Codes

I'm not sure how many of y'all are military/aircraft loons, but "squawk codes" were invented during WW2 as radio-transmitted codes to distinguish between Allies and Axis to avoid friendly fire as part of the IFF system "Parrot". They range from 0000 to 7777, and each one has a meaning.

This, of course, immediately had me thinking of this:

In Squawk, 3700 becomes:

What's an AEW aircraft?

Airborn Early Warning. AEW aircrafts patrol to keep on the lookout for incoming aerial and/or maritime attacks.

They're even used to track UFOs

So, given that these were implemented in WW2, we can all see the ties to Victor, yes? And how this creates a nice web of connections between all this:

And Henry/TFS? Nifty.

One last thing: IFF "Parrot"

Are we 100% sure the bird on the van is an eagle? Because while it does resemble an eagle, it also resembles a parrot.

Given that it has a short lower beak and ruffled feathers (it also happens to be colorful), whereas a screeching eagle is sleek and has an elongated lower beak:

I talked about it with Em, and we both agree that it looks like a weird eagle-parrot hybrid, which may be an intentional stylization to cover both the eagle symbolization and the IFF references (parroting having ties to mind control and the Mindflayer, as well as the threads of word repetition in ST as a whole).

In summary: If the antenna and the radio station are being used the same way Bob's D.A.D. was in TFS, then it essentially functions as a radio-based early warning system against the Mindflayer, which is supported by the design and slogan of the WSQK van.

Additional support:

There’s a poster of “The Squawk” in the theater of The First Shadow, tying the two directly together. It’s a nice final piece to the puzzle!

[5ummit]

HTP Fic Recs: Hidden Gems

Have you, like me, devoured everything in the Hydra Trash Party AO3 tag and are desperate for more? Well you may be in luck.

In honor of CATWS's 10th anniversary I’ve decided, yet again, to make a new rec list so that these gems don't get buried in my overwhelmingly extensive original rec list. This list features HTP and HTP-adjacent fics that are NOT tagged as HTP (either because the author didn't know the label existed or didn't believe it applied to their fic), making them particularly hard to find, and I think, deserving of more attention.

Many of these fics don’t have much, if any, explicit noncon, but noncon is often implied or referenced and they’re all rife with other types of dehumanization and abuse so the usual HTP warnings still apply. Read tags carefully etc.

The Making of the Winter Soldier [series] by CluckU & Mumble_Bee Relationship: Hydra Agents/WS, Zola/WS Words: 13,700

There are a small, precious collection of things he knows for certain each time he wakes in his chair: He is a weapon. A soldier. An asset. He is being molded into the Fist of Hydra. He must prove himself. Failure is not an option.

Muscle Memory by sparklingbinjuice Relationship: Rumlow & Bucky Words: 4500

It had taken five minutes of fumbling but he had eventually picked the lock. The soldier wouldn’t be back for hours. Coordinates provided by the remaining, somewhat rudimentary, tracking device installed in the titanium arm indicated that he wandered the streets on weekends – watching people, visiting libraries and museums, feeding the birds. It was all so horribly human.

Reconquer, regain, recover by werebird Relationship: Hydra Agents/WS (past) Words: 2300

Hydra had known his body better than he himself ever could. They had taken it, reshaped it, reprogrammed it. They had birthed the Winter Soldier although they had never given him life.

Taming Winter by Runlights Relationship: Rumlow & WS, Steve & Bucky Words: 91,000 Notes: terrifying bloodthirsty WS

Regardless of the intravenous set pumping warming fluids into those veins, regardless of the fact that a moment ago, the guy looked on the verge of death, the Winter Soldier was out of the chair and in front of him with two steps that happened so quickly he didn’t even have time to do more than inhale. He froze as he felt the press of his own combat knife against his throat, the bite of the blade causing blood to well and slip down his throat. This was the point where he suspected people felt fear, especially staring into those unfocused cold eyes. He only felt a twisted fascination.

The Soldier’s Kittens by exclamation Relationship: Sam & Bucky, Steve & Bucky Words: 11,300 Notes: animal abuse/death

"Sam's a really good guy," Steve said. "I think you'd like him if you spent more time with him." Bucky said nothing. He would not show any interest in Sam, just as he had not shown any interest when Steve had taken him to the animal shelter to try and get him to interact with the dogs there. He knew this trap and he wouldn't fall into it twice.

Flinching by Exorin Relationship: Steve/Bucky Words: 570

It might finally break what's left of him if Steve knew the way he's had to dig his nails into his palms hard enough to draw blood just to shape his breath into the sound of a moan.

I'm comin' up only to hold you under by anonymous Relationship: Hydra Agents/Bucky, Steve/Bucky (past) Words: 2100

They drag him out of his cell by his hair and toss him into a room full of identical guards. He lands hard on his knees, the force of the impact stuttering up his weak, tired body, and he glares up and them with all the hatred he can gather. He feels off-balance, like he does whenever he tries to carry himself now—the stump of his missing arm has a phantom weight he can't get used to, won't get used to.

Context is Everything by thedevilchicken Relationship: Hannibal/Bucky Words: 2600

"I don't understand," Bucky replied. "Recontextualize?" "Your memories of HYDRA seem…distant," Hannibal said. "The way you speak about them is as if they happened to someone else. In order to process your trauma, you must understand that they happened to you."

Never Letting the Blood Dry by BarrenPines Relationship: Rumlow & WS, Steve & Bucky Words: 2500 Notes: whipping

After the mission, there were pats on the back, expressions of congratulations and thanks, and a dozen other little niceties that made his skin crawl. He’d gotten lucky, that’s all. And he’d also defied orders, departed from his assigned task. Praise wasn’t what he deserved.

[ms-scarletwings]

Endearing through the Alien Lens: A Clue About the Primitive Irken?

I love literary xenobiology. I love it a whole lot, in fact. There’s a paradoxical line I dance across, between criticizing intelligent fictional aliens for their likeness to our species, and criticizing them for their unlikeness. It’s a pretentious and laughable dance between “Come on, the sky’s the limit, there’s no real reason for a bucket of different extraterrestrial races to just all be more flavors of quirky humanoids! Boring, show me something actually alien!!” and the yearn for the use of alien races as a funhouse mirror of mankind’s own evolution. I think the way Irkens nonchalantly dwell somewhere on that subjective tightrope is a good part of why I can’t seem to stop thinking about them.

They are inspired and yet creatively original. They are truly alien, and yet, they can still play foil to the bottomlessly decadent humanity that Vasquez’s Earth has set the stage for.

Before, in the very first brain dump I let loose about them, I noted a few of their parallels to the worst in Homo sapiens and the insects they resemble. This time, something is chewing on me that i haven’t seen another put into perspective. A something that seems contradictory to our collective view of the heartless, sexless, atomized conquerors that all of the cosmos will fear:

They… have parental instincts.

I didn’t necessarily say drives or wants; however, they undeniably havewhat seems to be an actual, instinctual “cuteness response”. Like us, like social pack animals which invest a great deal of resources and time into their young. Given that the closest thing that 100% of smeets born on the home world get to call a parental figure is a literal cold, unfeeling, automated machine, this seems kind of weird, doesn’t it? They’re not even born like mammals or nested like birds, they’re mass produced, like hived wasps or ants, miles beneath their actual society and out of the business of the adults. So, what the heck with them being written to be humanized with this baseless, arbitrary trait?

But, ah ah ah, nitpicker Scarlet, it’s not baseless. It’s only ✨vestigial✨

Y’all could probably make a good guess to what the cuteness response is and why it exists in Homo sapiens, but to sum up- it’s the phenomenon of when we see something we find “cute” and it makes us react to it in a protective, nurturing fashion- or also want to bite/squeeze things, weirdly, if it’s just too damn cute. Well, what do humans find cute? Things that resemble human infants, basically. It’s a biological reflex that makes us want to defend and provide care for our kind’s absurdly dependent and slow-developing young, rather than abandon them in the shrubbery like they’re just screamy, food-leeching paperweights.

“Pff, really? Well I must be special cause I don’t even LIKE babies. I think babies are icky gross, not cute! So, genetic instinct my ass!”

I hear you, sure, but what about… harp seals? Or koalas, or pandas and puppies and fawns and kittens? Or funny little cartoon blorbos? At bare minimum you’d have to be an alien yourself to feel nothing looking at photos of young hedgehogs

See, the fact that a lot of us may often find baby animals a great amount more endearing than even humans’ is not even in conflict with this understanding of cuteness.

The concept of the “baby schema” was formally proposed in 1943 by Konrad Lorenz, an Austrian ethologist. Fun fact is he was also the same researcher who originally observed and described imprinting behaviors, as seen in newly hatched waterfowl. Point is that his “Kindchenschema” idea grouped together a handful of infantile traits that make fireworks go off in the parts of your brain that wants to keep things alive and baby-talk to them. Included on the list were features like proportionally large heads, big eyes, round faces, short noses, etc. despite the name, the baby schema’s effect is something applied not to just actual babies, but children generally, and even in our reactions to non-human animals.

It’s the hypothesis behind both why we’ve jacked up the skulls of so many small dog breeds in the name of aesthetics and why we generally find the portraits on the left side of this image more appealing to look at than the ones on the right.

The consistency of these features across many species may also give some hint that they experience a similar phenonemon, especially given that these are traits shared among bird or mammalian offspring which require significant attention and protection to survive. And, it may also explain why this image likewise gives me a huge dose of that sweet, sweet response.

Awww, look at that lil’ mans! Look at his teeny noodle arms!! I just wanna pinch him like a marshmallow!

YOU are not immune to cuteness psychology, and neither are the proud Irken warriors. I’m going to cite Zim’s proclivity to what I can only describe as paternal bonding as a demonstration of this response, but before you go reminding me about his pak defects, it’s far from the only evidence that this is a natural Irken trait.

Check out little Timmy (importantly, the surrounding response to him), a hilariously out of place youngster who appeared briefly in the trial transcript for the sole purpose of a dark gag and to get us some lore revealed.

Take further note of the complimentary nature of smeets themselves.

Suddenly finding themselves alive, fresh Irken babies too, like the hatched gosling, begin to immediately seek an emotional attachment with the first animate thing they see. While mobile and fast learners, smeets are far from being able to truly fend for themselves. They’re tiny and naive and they need lots of mental enrichment/teaching. They also play and form something akin to friendships, much like human children. In the bygone era before Irkens were so reliant on Paks and all of the advanced technology of the modern empire, smeets would have been exceedingly vulnerable. All signs point to a phase in Irk’s natural history where they were once nurtured after by adults of their own kind, and commonly bonded with their caretakers. This could mean compact family units, or maybe even a communal raising situation, akin to penguin crèches (Personally I like to headcanon that the tallests/queens were traditionally the only breeding members of the population but that’s neither here or now). Either sense, the evolutionary remnants of a parental creature are still around.

Taking all that to note, instead of perceiving Zim as the bizarre outlier to the Irken condition when it comes to having this soft spot, I instead see him as an opportunity to see natural behaviors in action without the suppression of his militarized society and its distractions. Even someone as warped and selfish as he can be is still very, very full of love to give that he doesn’t even understand enough language to describe. He pretty clearly shows he has no cultural understanding or reference of cuteness, and still, he’s not so different in this “weakness” than the very humans he manipulated into fawning over Ultra Peepi. It just took an example his own sensibilities could relate to instead of an unfamiliar, repulsive alien rodent.

And when he’s given the rare circumstance to show that potential, well-

*(With the rough shape/size down, no nose, and huge, bug-like eyes, Li’l Meat man may actually be a great approximation of the key “smeet schema” features. More importantly, it was made to specifically resemble Zim himself)

- I feel that’s downright adorable.

[silkkorchid]

What went down in TWST rp in a week-

4/27 - 5/3

Things are going missing across the dorms I presume. (Better not fall to your death people)

Someone placed a cat spawner in every NRC dorm and probably at campus…

There was knock off version of the Great Seven in anime…

NRC Book Club, Trystia, has became one with nature.

NRC Book Club seems to be setting up Trystia for something ~

The rebellion against Crowley failed, and Lucius got ban from NRC. MAY HE SNEAK BACK IN!

A beef between @royalswordacademyconfession 🐰 got beef with @nrc-therapist .

RSA confession mod 📖 got a boyfriend! (Meanwhile us single pringles are just looking at the lovebirds)

⬇️

Nvm mod 📖’s boyfriend died…

It’s confirm, Crowley cannot use technology correctly.

Crowley disown one of his children.

Lucius (@lucius-official) made bbq fish fillets, I wonder how it would taste like.

Lucius is dressed up fancy~

Professor Crewel is allergic to cats, and a cat pushed him off.

Hedgehogs are gone from Heartslabyul. Well, everyone there is gonna have their heads off.

Trey didn’t realize there was an uprising against Crowley, so he kinda in disbelief.

Trey loosing his shit thanks to someone placing a Cat Spawner.

Trey’s sanity is on a thread that can easily break at any given moment-

Deuce got addicted to coffee now…

Deuce made someone to a size of a doll since he dropped a cauldron on them.

Deuce became an egg-

Cater and Vil getting somewhat along??? What did I missed there?

Cater cheesed Professor Crewel, he dead…

Ruggie being a taste tester for the 1st years of Diasomnia.

Ruggie lied about his age several times during to being looking young, which he took advantage to it.

Azul being embarrassed by the leak baby photos that been going on.

There is two Azul now. Oh dear…

Kalim at it buying random stuff but, this time is… bird seed?

Another Jamil came, and he isn’t too happy knowing he got a child despite being busy…

Vil being disappointed in people, classic.

Vil being shocked there is a Cat Spawner and hoping it was in a Minecraft server, it wasn’t..

Vil on the look out of Epel eating something that he shouldn’t have.

Idia got Arlecchino, but the cost is the fact he is now broke-

Idia loosing his mind with cat photos.

Someone called Idia a walking campfire.

Malleus got another child.?

Malleus got turned into a cat box-

Silver still being a decent person in NRC

Silver had been buried from several cats.

Cheka is gonna break Ruggie’s back soon.

Cheka got grounded for playing a long “hide and seek” game…

Che’nya(@your-local-grinning-cat) wants to adopt Gidel

Mr. Rosehearts is disappointed in Ms. Rosehearts’ actions. + his son in his current family is top 3 in RSA.

Yuu got a bear. Nice 👍

Grim trying to show off that he can read and write(more over type) but failing a bit…

A pomefiore student (@pomefiorestudent-a)made their debut! Enjoy this recognition for being here.

Castor(@castaway-achlys) and Atamai (@atamai-twst) are having beef with each other..?

@blind0raven is going to murder someone…

Castor cannot do laundry.

@quartztwst in jail.

quartztwst being accused of several crimes

It’s confirm, @the-possum-of-rsa is in Sebek’s walls majority of the time-

Althea and Aclestris came back after a very long nap or break???

@jaytoonarchives is hosting a party at Ramshackle! And the children are invited…

@comediano-o got catnip, better keep it away from Lucius and Grim…

R. C. and Yuu is planning to prank Crowley within his office.

Atami got Trystia as his date for prom!

B0njourbeach showed that Leona is bald without his wig.

B0njourbeach is making cursed photos of NRC students…

Serena(@imafrealinrainbow478484), don’t use the decay incantation…

-

“Armaros here, I would like to remind you all that this series just has one person involved. So if you think that 🍮 missed something, tell her and she will probably put it in a reblog post. Ok, I’m gonna go now. You will see me later on.” -💫💤

[skaldish]

Oh my god I just had a horrible realization. It's a really personal one so please bear with me but I need to share it because…Idk, maybe it's not just me.

But I realized. I didn't actually grow up being a part of any culture. I grew up with seeing culture around me, and sometimes participating in culture temporarily, but I was not raised with a cultural identity of any sort whatsoever.

I identify as an American only because I live in the US, not because I'm acculturated American. I only have the cultural senses I have because it just so happened to be what I was surrounded by.

None of the stories told to me, none of the food I ate, and nothing I wore, were used to convey "This is who we are as people" by my family or community. Stories were just for entertainment, food was just for eating, and clothes were just whatever I liked wearing from the department store. These things weren't, in any way, identity, outside of things I could use to express my own personal identity if I wanted to.

Fuck, I wasn't even given the cultural knowledge associated with the class I was raised in. No leadership skills, no business sense, nothing.

"But what about religion?" No religion either. My family has culturally Catholic leanings, but it's residual and unrecognized.

"What about being white?" The fact that I can't describe what "being white" even means—beyond how I've heard it described—goes to show you my expertise in the matter.

"What about subcultures?" I only know how to participate in subcultures as either a spectator or as a guest. No culture has ever identified me as belonging to it, despite welcoming my participation, and I can't consider myself part of cultures if they don't claim me.

In terms of my cultural identity, I'm completely blank. It's like I have no name.

I write all this because I was thinking about why some Scandinavians would be upset at me using "Heathen" (as well as bigger questions of cultural appropriation in general) and came to this realization.

For the record…I don't consider myself Heathen because I identify as part of Scandinavian culture. That would be absurd. I use "Heathen" because I accidentally befriended a Heathen god. Loki hid his identity from me for years, and I was very upset when when he finally told me who he was—I felt like he betrayed me, and also like I was going insane, because my worldview prior to that did not support the existence of gods.

I dug deep into learning about Norse paganism because I knew understanding Loki within his cultural context was vital to understanding who he is. The reason I started digging around in Scandinavian culture directly, though, was because—surprise!—nothing we have published in the US actually has this context.

…I'm embarrassed to admit I wasn't aware "cultural appropriation" describes a situation where one person walks into another person's culture and says, "Yes, this is my home now," like a cuckoo taking over another bird's nest. I always thought it was a function of mishandling a culture—using it in ways that was careless and ill-informed—but no, it's taking away other peoples' identities in the name of playing dress-up for yourself.

"You're robbing me of myself for your own stupid aesthetic desires!" That's how I imagine it must feel.

It disgusts me to think that's how my actions may have looked.