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thewritershelpers · 4 years

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How to Write (Accurate) Dinosaurs (Follower Article Submission)

By Salvatore Cucinotta

Dinosaurs are probably the most popular subject in natural sciences and show up in fiction in so many roles it’s dizzying. But they are rarely shown with any accuracy. Depending on the story, that’s okay, and nothing to be ashamed of. However, the opportunities presented with more accurate dinosaurs can often outstrip the flights of fancy they have often been assigned. There’s a lot to cover, because dinosaurs are a very diverse group of animals, and we’ve learned a lot about them since they were first discovered: Even more things recently that get ignored for the ‘popular conscious’ image of these animals.

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Taxonomy: Understanding through Relatives

The first thing to understand is about dinosaurs is where they fit in the tree of life. Their taxonomic cousins are Crocodilians, and their direct descendants are birds. This does mean that birds are dinosaurs. Between the two, we have some very interesting and diverse templates to draw from for comparison. We can also make some speculations on things they may have done when the fossil record doesn’t fails us. This article is going to go on with a mixture of things we do know, and things we can infer. If anything strikes you as off or odd, I fully encourage you to dig deeper on your own. Heck, by the time this article comes out, a new find or paper could make some major changes to the broad generalities presented here. But, for now, if you want to get a simplified understanding, Dinosaurs mix some of the best features of crocs and birds, which allowed them to dominate the world for millions of years.

Jaws and Teeth

With that settled, let’s focus on the animal piece by piece, starting with the head. Dinosaurs tend to have rather powerful jaws. Tyrannosaurs are famous for it, but the bites of most dinosaurs are nothing to sneeze at. Their modern relatives, Crocs and birds, are rather noted for how powerful their bites can be. This is because they all share a similar muscle structure. They have two pairs of muscles on the back of their head as well as one in the center of their head (between the eye and nose) which are all to make the bite that much more powerful. In many dinosaurs, these show up as holes so they can be clearly seen. By comparisons, mammals only have one pair of extra muscles in the back for jaw reinforcement. This is why crocs can crush bones and parrots can crack Brazil nuts. So it becomes easy to picture: a Hadrosaur pulling off chunks of tree wood in tough times, a ceratopsian munching down an entire bush to its stem, or a tyrannosaur, which have the most powerful jaws among dinosaurs, crunching up the bones of its prey. Their jaws are not to be taken lightly. Other big predators have weaker jaws than Tyrannosaurs, but still enough to leave scratch marks on bones.

Teeth come next, and dinosaur teeth are as diverse as their diet. The sauropods have simple, peg like teeth for stripping plants. Others, like Ankylosaurs and Stegosasurs have beaks to crop plants, largely forgoing teeth. All these animals likely had gizzards or advanced stomachs or breaking down plant material like modern birds do (we have known examples from Sauropods, but not from the others, but it would make sense). Ceratopsians and Hadrosaurs have massive batteries of teeth for chewing, and powerful ones at that. Ceratopsians shifted their jaws back and forth to chew rather than side to side like mammals do, while Hadrosaurs did something really weird: they flexed their skull. While their lower jaw just moves up and down, the top looks like it’s squeezed by an invisible hand as they separate, which flexes out when the close, grinding any food caught between them as the top teeth slide down and out over the lower set. In life, it would give it very puffy cheeks as it chewed. Finally, predators largely have teeth for slicing flesh and creating gaping wounds in their prey. Except Tyrannosaurs, those animals had more conical teeth for crushing bone and armor, especially Tyrannosaurus rex. After getting a small enough food item in their mouth, they’d then swallow it whole. It seems theropods ripped prey apart like modern birds do, holding it down with a foot and plucking chunks off to be swallowed.

Tongue Actions

Staying in the mouth, let’s talk about tongues. Our two modern examples show great extremes. In Crocodilians, their tongues are fused to their jaws, while in birds, they can take a variety of forms. This is generally covered by the hyoid bone and a study from June of 2018 ran through what we have of hyoid bones. The short of it being, most carnivorous dinosaurs and the big long-necked ones had crocodilian tongues (yes, even the birdlike ones), while the Ornithischian dinosaurs (duck-billed dinosaurs, horned and armored dinosaurs, etc.) had tongues and could be a bit more elaborate with them. Given the simple jaws of Ankylosaurs, it is thought that their tongues might have been used to aid in grazing, being large, rough, and possibly used in pulling in food.

Horns, Frills, Domes, and Other Weirdness

Now there are dinosaurs that have horns, domes, crests, and other ornamentation on their heads, but they didn’t all use them for the same purposes. In Theropod dinosaurs like Ceratosaurus, Allosaurus, Cryolophosaurus, Carnotaurus, and even Tyrannosaurus rex, the horns, frills, and bumps were most likely display pieces like that of a modern hornbill. They look pretty, but don’t do much else. The Pachycephalosaurs dome heads are often shown ramming each other, and that’s likely accurate. We do have some evidence of lesions from impacts they could not withstand on their massive heads. Now, the Ceratopsian dinosaurs use their horns depending on their family. Chasmosaurine ceratopsians, such as Triceratops, Charmosaurus, and Torosaurus, likely locked horns like deer in shoving matches when battling each other, and used the sturdier horns to defend themselves when they could. Centrosaurine ceratopsians, including Monoclonius, Styracosaurus, and Pachyrhinosaurus did more body shoving and scraping with horns along the frill. So, instead of butting heads, they’d either T-bone their rival, or they’d circle each other to try and flip or knock over their foe. Finally, there’s the big tubes along the heads of lambeosaurine hadrosaurs. These were echo chambers for sound, which will be discussed in more detail below, but in general, these made deep, resonating sounds.

The frills of Ceratopsians likely served two purposes: defense and display. Display among other members of their species being the primary with defense a secondary bonus. And it wasn’t just bone covered in skin. The frills were covered in a keratin sheath like their horns and beaks, and like the beaks of modern birds. This means that they were quite durable, and possibly even brightly colored in life. It’s also fun to note that Tyrannosaurs had a habit of ripping off those frills in order to eat the thick neck muscles behind them.

Of course, the thing about Dinosaur heads, especially in Tyrannosaurs, Hadrosaurs, Ceratopsians, and likely Pachycephalosaurs is how much they change as they the animal ages. Ceratopsians show the most change, as they are born with frills and horns that can barely be notices, but which grow into different shapes for each stage of life. Triceratops has 5 distinct growth stages that we can determine so far, and it is likely other horned dinosaurs had similar stages. Hadrosaurs start with ‘cute’ faces, short nose and big eyes, and which elongate as they age. Tyrannosaur skulls deepen and become more robust as they age, to the point where young Tyrannosaurs have more teeth than the adults. Pachycephalosaurs might go through the most changes, starting with horn-covered heads before growing the dome as the horns shrink, but because their remains are rare and usually incomplete, we can’t say this with certainty.

As a final to-do regarding horned dinosaurs, it has been noted for years that their skulls have massive openings for their nasal passages. Holes far too big to just be for an enhanced sense of smell. One hypothesis about them is that they held air sacs that could inflate for display purposes, like that of a modern hooded seal. If that hypothesis held true, then they would be very showy animals.

(Almost) Bird Brains

Our last stop in the head is in the brain. Dinosaur intelligence is hard area to study since brains themselves don’t fossilize, but the braincase gives us some idea of its size and shape, and thus what it could focus on. This is made trickier because of the transition from more reptilian forms to avian ones, but, again, it gives us a rough estimate of what’s going on between their ears. From what we can deduce, animals like Allosaurus and Carcharodontosaurus were about as smart as modern crocodiles, with smarter ones on the way to being bird like. Some, like Tyrannosaurus, are only just, while one of the most intelligent dinosaurs (Troodon) is about 31.5 to 63% of the way to modern bird intelligence.

This does downplay the movie “Raptors” unlocking doors, or being as smart as crows or parrots, but it doesn’t make them unthinking, unfeeling beasts either. Again, crocodiles are more nuanced than most people are aware. Crocodiles have been seen bringing food to their babies, using very simple tools (putting moss and sticks on them to aid their camouflage), and can be taught a few tricks. They also play. They play with objects (wooden balls, noisy ceramic bits, their prey, floating debris, and even streams of water), they engage in movement play (surfing in waves, using waterslides, and riding currents), and even playing with others. And not just other crocodilians, but otters and even some people. Some of these play bonds can last for years. Crocodilians aren’t just reactive to their environment, they have flexibility in their behavior.

And no dinosaur has a secondary brain in the back to help out. That is total bunk.

All the Better to See You With

We can also tell a lot about the animals’ senses from these brain casts. In general, however, we can say that dinosaurs have great senses of smell and eyesight. Their hearing was good, but geared towards hearing lower sounds than humans are used to. This means that overall, the “It can’t see you if you don’t move” trick from Jurassic Park is patently false. Not only could it see you clearly, and in color, but it would just as easily identify a target through scent alone.

Resonance

Moving down to the throat, we enter the realm of figuring out what sounds dinosaurs made. This is a big area of curiosity, especially with the crests of the various Hadrosaurs being full of air tubes like massive instruments. The sounds of those is pretty well known – something like an alpine horn, but that’s not the limit of what sounds they could make. Modern birds would easily be a writer’s first thought. Birds make all sorts of sounds, from hooting owls to the lyrebirds’ perfect mimicry. However, Dinosaurs don’t have the bones for it. Most of those sounds are made with a bone known as the syrinx. This bone evolved in birds after they became their own group, and is found in no non-avian dinosaurs.

But that doesn’t mean they can’t make noises. Ostriches and bitterns and make booming sounds without the use of their syrinx, and crocodiles are very vocal animals. The chirp of crocodile babies in the nest is well known and documented, as is the mating bellow, and threatening hiss. But there are also calls to alert others to danger, call for help, and even an ‘Umph’ call to assure babies that their mother is near. These tend to be low, deep sounds for the most part, with the mating call going into infrasound ranges. This matches with many types of Dinosaurs. The singing Hadrosaurs and Tyrannosaurs both geared their ears for low frequency sounds. The Hadrosaurs to hear and locate each other, and Tyrannosaurs to listen in and find prey. This means that Tyrannosaurus wouldn’t roar, but something scarier. It could produce this sound without opening its mouth, and even if a hapless human couldn’t hear it, it would reverberate through their entire body.

Dinosaurs Can’t Play Basketball

The next thing to talk about is in the hands. In movies, and even in mounted skeletons, dinosaurs are often shown with their palms facing the ground. It gives raptors a praying mantis-like arm pose and is a product of anthropomorphism. Dinosaurs did not hold their hands like we do. Birds are dinosaurs, and birds hold their hands with their palms facing inward. Maniraptors (a group of dinosaurs including Oviraptor, Velociraptor, and modern birds) could almost fold their arms up like a bird does, though their fingers point to the ground getting only half way to a full bird fold-up. This is important for them because it allows for a ‘flapping’ motion. With this down, they could do all sorts of displays, catching small prey, or execute tighter turns.

Gut-Punch

The next topic is inside a dinosaur, and that is gastralia. This, in birds, is known as the sternum or breastbone. In dinosaurs, it’s basically a set of 8 to 21 reverse ribs that run along the line of the stomach. It is known to be present in Crocodiles and the Tuatara, and we have fossil evidence for it in many Theropods and Prosauropods. It seems to be absent from the giant Sauropods and Ornithischian dinosaurs. In life, they provide extra protection and muscle attachment points for the body mostly related to how they breathe.

Huff and Puff

Dinosaurs, like their descendants and relatives, have extremely efficient and powerful lungs unlike any other group of animals. They cycle through without pause, cleanly and efficiently. Throw in the hollow bones of Sauropods and Theropods, and like birds they become even more efficient with their breathing. This means they have very high endurance. The marathon flights of birds are a good benchmark for non-bird dinosaurs. It also means they can survive lower oxygen levels than us mammals can with fewer side effects. So the longer a chase scene goes on with a dinosaur, the more likely it’s going to win.

Serpentine! Serpentine!

The legs come next, and they are one of the defining features of dinosaurs and birds. They are extremely efficient runners. Their ankles and knees are simple door hinge joints, and their hips connect to their legs with a wheel joint. Even better, dinosaurs have a muscle attaching to the back of their thigh and connecting to their tail, making their run that much more powerful and efficient. So, dinosaurs can run quite well and for long periods of time. But they have trouble on turns. The tail can be used as a lever to aid in turns, but they’d still rather run straight than turn. So, when chased by a dinosaur, the best strategy is to get to cover and zig-zag randomly. Because you sure as hell aren’t outlasting them.

Speed wise, dinosaurs can do pretty well. It varies a lot by species. Tracks can tell us some answers, as can biomechanical analysis. It’s hard to pin down, and many a mathematical formula has been put together to try and figure out these speeds, with some variable ranges. The big theropods have a speed range between 10 and 25 mph. Large raptors around 20mph, with their smaller relatives 25-30mph. Smaller therapods can hit up to 45 mph, with the Ornithomimids hitting 50 mph at the most. The hadrosaurs tend towards 25-30mph. Ceratopsians tended to run at most just under 20mph. Armored dinosaurs and large sauropods tend to be the slowest, the fastest of these going roughly 6 mph.

Like today, predators have quicker pickup than herbivores, who are geared for more long distance running. Throw in all those adaptations for endurance and we have some real marathon runners here. In other words, predators tend to be sprinters, herbivores tend to be distance runners, but both are distance runners compared to mammals.

Ouch!

While we’re inside, let’s talk briefly about healing and injury. Dinosaurs are quite robust and tough animals. Their immune system is that of birds and crocodiles. When faced with an infection, their immune system isolates it. This makes it take longer to heal, but prevents septicemia/blood poisoning among other benefits. This does sometimes lead to amputation of toes in some animals. There are instances of healed creatures in many skeletons, though a bad break in a leg or along the spine can still be fatal. They still suffered some diseases. Tyrannosaurus for example has evidence from several individuals of a bone infection that seems to have been spread among them via face biting. Whether this face biting was social interaction of some sorts, violent interspecies conflict, or minor dominance displays while feeding like wolves do today is unknown.

Warm Blooded, Cold Blooded, or Something In Between?

At this point, it’s pertinent to mention how active dinosaurs were. The term “Mesotherm” is often put about them, and it seems to fit. They are between “Hot Blooded” Endotherms like birds and mammals, and “Cold Blooded” Ectotherms, like crocodiles and other reptiles. The short of it is, Dinosaurs were on a gradient of activity levels. Mostly above that of modern crocodiles (who are already geared to be as energy efficient as possible), up to that of modern birds. They wouldn’t bask in the sun by and large, but could do with less food than a mammal of similar size. What’s really fun is the cheat they use to assist that even more. See, most energy in mammals and birds is used to keep us warm and active. But this has a direct relationship with body size. The smaller an animal is, the more energy is needed to keep it warm. But large animals can keep themselves warm through their bulk alone. This is sometimes termed “Gigantothermy.” And dinosaurs hit that sweet spot really well, being able to outdo mammals and be more fuel efficient while doing so. Still, if the idea of the warmth of a group of mammals seems fanciful, remember: opossums, echidnas, and platypus’ have an average body temperature so low none of them can carry rabies.

The Way Out

Next, we come to an ‘exit’ from the internal stuff: a dinosaur’s butt, because dinosaur butts are weird. See, mammals from horses to humans are … different from other vertebrates. We have separate orifices for releasing both forms of waste as well as our reproductive system. Most other animals, well, they have their waste disposal plant and their amusement park in the same place. This is called a cloaca and is a universal organ for waste and reproduction. Birds, crocs, and dinosaurs have it. Even egg-laying mammals have it. It’s the standard from which modern mammals deviated. Because of this, dinosaurs can’t use urine to mark territory because they have no way of expelling it separate from other excrement. So, dinosaur poo would either be like that of a bird, or like that of a crocodile. On the plus side, this does make them quite good at retaining water, and makes them basically immune to being kicked in the crotch.

Eggs, Nests, and Parenting.

The other thing to come out of that hole, eggs, leads easily into nesting behavior. We only have a few nests we can fully identify, as well as dozens more which we can’t tell who they’re from. And the nests and their uses varied a lot. Some animals were nest bound after hatching, dependent on the parents for food. Others were like young reptiles of today, hatching ready to move and work largely on their own. It is likely, given crocodiles, that there was some parental protection early in life for most species. They had a high number of young, which compensated for the high attrition rates of young individuals. So, even the best mother lizards would lose quite a few children with each brood. In short, seeing a single child from a nest or as a yearling is not only inaccurate, but has extremely depressing implications.

In general, there were two major methods of nest building: the crocodile method, and the bird method. The crocodile method was taken up by the majority of dinosaurs. This being building a nest of rotting vegetation and covering the eggs, letting the warmth of rotting vegetation incubate the eggs. The latter is far better known, where the parents) use their warmth to incubate the eggs (though they were nested in rotting vegetation as well, a between stage for bird and crocodilian styles as it were). This more modern strategy is only found in smaller animals, and of those, the ones that were heavily feathered.

Scales, Dino-Fuzz, and Feathers

Yes, feathers. Dinosaurs have feathers. This is partly because birds are dinosaurs, and partly because of the “Ancestrally Filamentous Hypothesis” where the common ancestor of dinosaurs were likely feathered, or more accurately covered in filaments that are ancestral to feathers. This is because we have dinosaurs on both major branches with feathers and filaments of varying types and it is likely that they are from the same source, but it could be independent evolution as well.

But what’s really weird about dinosaur feathers is the fact that they are not mutually exclusive (meaning a dinosaur can have feathers and scales, and not just in patches either, but all mixed together), that some of the scales on some dinosaurs might be feathers that have become scales once again, and that there are occasionally multiple stages of feathers present on the same animal. There’s three basic stages (with 5 when you really get down to the nitty gritty things). These are the filament (hollow hair-like feathers somewhat similar looking, though often shorter, than what is seen today in emus and kiwis), plumulaceous (Fluffy down-like feathers), and pennaceous (and branching feathers from a central shaft). The latter are the majority of feather types on a bird, varying in how they are interwoven.

Armored dinosaurs (Stegosaurs, Ankylosaurs), Pachycephalosaurs, and Sauropods have no direct evidence for feathers on them, and aside from polar animals, very small animals, or sporadic display points probably didn’t have any. The scale impressions we have of sauropods and Ankylosaurs indicate rather crocodilian-like heavy scales, with smaller ones at the joints to ease movement. This includes the armor which, like the backs of crocodiles, were scales with boney core. And yes, some later Sauropods (such as Saltosaurus and Alamosaurus) did have body armor, though not to the extent of Ankylosaurs.

Ceratopsians or Horned dinosaurs have evidence of the first type of feathers on their bodies, namely long quills on the top of the tail of Psittacosaurus (along with a skin of fine scales whose coloration, that is similar to a modern deer, was also preserved). The skin impressions of Triceratops dinosaurs show they had more crocodilian-like armored scales, but also knob points where either spines or feather quills could have grown out. Given the size and placement, they might have been for display structures or they could have been more porcupine-like quill spines. But because this specimen is in the hands of a private collector, it has so far not been studied.

Ornithopods (duck-billed dinosaurs, Iguanodons, and small herbivores often called “Hypsilophodontids”) have several mummies preserving scaly skin, but Kulindadromeus, a primitive member of this family, had a very distinct body covering. Its face, shins, and tail were scaly, easily enough. But the torso, neck and head were covered in filamentous feathers, while its arms and thighs had plumulaceous coverings. So, it’s possible for Ornithopods to have all sorts of feathers, though it seems the larger ones preferred scales as far as we can tell so far, it doesn’t rule out feathered parts of the body as well, or mixed/alternating scales and feathers like the feet of some birds have.

Therapod feathers are extremely complicated since they include birds, and show the most diversity. We generally don’t have evidence for feathers in Ceratosaurs, Abeliosaurs, Megalosaurs, Spinosaurs, Allosaurs, or Carcharodontosaurs, but because of what we know of their ancestry, it is possible these animals had at least some filaments in scattered parts for display. Compsognathids and Tyrannosaurs have family members depicting plumulaceous feathers, including Yutyrannus which is so far the largest dinosaur to have such feathers (30ft long).

From there we get into properly bird-like and the feathers become more obvious. Therizinosaurs have plumulaceous feathers, while Oviraptors, Ornithomimids, and “Raptors” all have pennaceous feathers. Meaning that the latter three had wings. They couldn’t fly with them (well, maybe the juveniles can when they’re small and light enough for it), but they are still useful for a wide variety of things: shading young/eggs when nesting, social displays/mating dances, guiding movement when running like modern ostriches do, to aid in climbing like modern birds use them for (flapping furiously), or to pick up speed while running, or use them for balance when sinking their claws into prey like modern birds of prey do. There are a lot of ways birds use their wings for reasons other than flight, and the same might be true for non-avian dinosaurs that had them.

But let’s not forget the scales too. The do appear on dinosaurs are for the most part rather small. The scales preserved on tyrannosaurs are best measured in millimeters, with an animal up to 40 ft. long, it would make the skin look rather leathery at a distance, but when you get close to it and feel it, it would be rougher, pebbly, but still rather soft like a bird’s foot. Some animals, like Edmontosaurus had a mosaic of tiny scales where the animal would flex, with sections of larger, bumpier scales in between. And then there are the more armored ones on Sauropods and Ceratopsians. Overall, each dinosaur is going to look different from what you see in Jurassic Park.

But, in short, a dinosaur with feathers is more accurate than one without them.

Other weird skin-related tissues include: Edmontosaurus annectens of the animal having a crest of soft tissue or wattle like that of a chicken, Tarbosaurus bataar having a throat pouch like a modern frigate bird, and Diplodocus having Iguana-like spines down their back (though how big they are in proportion to the rest of the body is unknown).

Modern birds have a myriad of fleshy formations on their heads, as well as bizarre ways of arranging feathers. From turkeys and chickens, to kiwi whiskers and quails topknots, don’t be afraid to use them to lend character to your creatures.

Colors

The last part to talk about is color. We actually do know the coloration of a few dinosaurs. Psittacosaurus and a medium sized ankylosaur Borealopelta have deer-like countershading coloration. A tan brown up top with a lighter color for their belly and dark patches around the face or armored scutes. Yes, even armored Ankylosaurs have camouflage. And those were scaly animals for the most part, most color information comes from feathers. Anchiornis feathers are largely black with blotches of gray, splashes of white (forming a white background with black spots across on the wings), and a brilliant red crest. Sinosauropteryx has a color pattern very similar to that of a modern coati, orange-brown up top with a lighter belly, bandit-mask of orange-brown over its face and white/orange-brown stripes running up its tail like a ring-tailed lemur. Finally, the proto-bird dinosaurs Archaeopteryx and Microraptor were black for the most part, with Archaeopteryx having white tips, and Microraptor’s black being more iridescent-black.

This means that, color wise, we have a lot of options between these findings and what we see in modern birds. Animals that rely on camouflage would do their best to match their environment: browns, greens, and blacks being common. But we’d also see brilliant colors for display, possibly leading to dances that go with the colors. Predatory dinosaurs might have colorations similar to eagles and hawks of today. Think first of where the animal lives and what it’s doing. Then you’re going to have to think of birds or other animals that fill a similar basic role and see what catches your eye.

I Blame Society

There’s only so much we can say about behavior that is not tied to the body directly. Footprints tell us some things, but only give us short scenes. Still, we can say a few things with some confidence. There are three ways Dinosaurs group together. The first is in what is best termed a flock. They travel among their own kind as a group for protection. We see this in sauropod trackways, mass grave sites of ceratopsians, and among hadrosaur group nesting sites. It seems Ankylosaurs were mostly solitary. Other dinosaurs seemed to form smaller groups if at all. The next structure is rare and rather speculative: a pack. Popularised among “raptors”, there is also evidence for this among some Tyrannosaurs. A pack is a family unit with parents and children being raised together, sometimes in expanded form. It’s common in mammals, but rare in modern dinosaurs. Only the Harris Hawk displays this social structure, though crows have something...similar, but different crows are always outsmarting things. The last is possibly the most frightening: a bask. Crocodiles can be social animals. In fact, many are. They gather together in certain locations they know food to be plentiful and wait together for it to show up. This is probably best exemplified by the river crossings of wildebeest and zebra in Africa. Crocodiles gather at these points to wait for their prey to arrive, and then work together to take down prey as well as rip it apart. There is evidence of such basks being used by Allosaurus and it is not much of a stretch to extend it to related animals. They gathered by a watering hole in the dry season and took down prey that came to drink.

Wrap-up and Further Reading

This is a lot to digest, but it should give you a very solid handle on how to handle dinosaurs going forward in your stories. They are weird and wonderful animals, but never forget that they are animals and not monsters. It’s fun to hype of the deadliness of predators, but remember: the most dangerous animal in Africa is an herbivore, as are most of the “African Big 5”. Herbivores are more likely to (and more willing to) kill than predators. They just want an easy meal.

If you want more information, and can’t make it to a museum to talk up a volunteer or a resident paleontologist, I suggest checking out the tumblr A Dinosaur a Day, the youtube series Your Dinosaurs are Wrong from the Geek Group, as well as the youtube channel Trey the Explainer.

#How to Write Accurate Dinosaurs #Writing Help #Writing Dinosaurs #Dinosaurs #Writing Advice #Comprehensive Writing Guides #TWH Follower Article Submission #majingojira #Describing dinosaurs

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ambersky0319 · 4 years

Note

Intrulogical wear Remus goes over to Logan's house, turns out he's a GAMER and they play Doki Doki literature club and goofily voice it over but then they kiss. -H anon

Okay, it isn’t the prompt exactly but I still really love this, and I hope y'all enjoy too! (Btw, despite the warnings below this is pretty fluffy! The warnings more so pertain to DDLC itself(Also this is pretty much a human AU))

Warnings: Spoiler warnings for Doki Doki Literature Club, suicide mention/description of a character’s suicide, lmk if I need to add anything else bc I’m unsure

Masterpost

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Remus was surprised when Logan had texted him, asking if Remus wanted to join Logan in playing a game he had recently gotten. People didn’t normally ask Remus to join things (aside from Logan himself, as they were dating), so Remus accepted immediately. Logan told him it would be one of those longer games, so Remus brought some stuff so he could stay the night.

Logan greeted him and his eyes seemed to light up. Remus wasn’t used to seeing Logan in anything but his usual polos and jeans and ties. He hadn’t expected for Logan to greet him in his pajamas already.

“Well, are you just going to stand there or are you gonna come inside?” Logan asked, smiling faintly as Remus ducked his head, walking into Logan’s apartment.

“What are we going to be playing?” Remus asked, setting his bag down where Logan had pointed, not far away from the couch. Remus soon joined Logan.

“Have you heard of Doki Doki Literature Club?”

Remus wrinkled his nose. “Sounds like a game Roman would like instead.”

“I think you’d prefer it, actually.” Logan said, getting the game set up. Remus got comfortable. He wasn’t really a gamer himself, and was quite surprised when he discovered that Logan loved video games. “It’s technically a dating sim, but from what I hear it covers quite a few dark themes. I’ve been avoiding a lot of spoilers for it though because I wanted to be able to play it myself first.”

“Why’d you invite me, though?” Remus asked, watching as the loading screen appeared. The warning appeared, and Remus furrowed his brows. “You also read the content warnings, right?”

“Yeah, none of our triggers are on there. Also, I invited you because I thought you might like it! It has a lot of dialogue and I thought you’d have fun making up the weirdest voices for the characters.”

Remus laughed lightly. “Okay, I trust you.” Logan gave him a bright smile, one Remus knew only few people saw. And that alone made his stomach tie into knots and feel like a jumble of saw despite having seen that smile dozens of times before. Logan turned back to the TV and hit I Accept, letting the main screen for the game come up. A bubbly music filled Logan’s apartment, and Remus couldn’t wait to get into it.

“Oh my God, I’ve got a bad feeling-” Remus gripped Logan’s arm as they continued. A few hours had passed already and things were starting to get weird. They had just gotten through an emotional scene with Sayori (Remus’s high-pitched voice for her made it so difficult to get through) and it was the next in-game day.

And Sayori wasn’t in the school.

“Of course something would go wrong right before the festival,” Logan stated, pushing up his glasses. He hadn’t said anything about Remus practically clinging to his arm.

Things had already starting getting a bit weird. But after learning Sayori had depression, and then promising to be there for her and saying they love her and not checking up on her in the morning…

“Hate the main character,” Remus muttered as he loosened his grip just a bit on Logan. “Honestly, like… Depression doesn’t work like that. Wish I could just hit him over the head with a bat. No! My morning star!”

Logan laughed. “You mean the one you stole from the museum.”

“No, the one my grandma gave me.” Remus rolled his eyes.

“I think dropping a few tons of sand on him would be better, honestly.” Logan stated, and before Remus could react they continued.

“At least he feels a little guilty, still doesn’t excuse it though,” Remus says, uncrossing his legs as they begin to feel tingly.

“You kind of left her hanging this morning, you know?” Logan reads in the calm voice they were using for Monika, and Remus and Logan exchange a worried glance.

“Oh… Oh no, no no… Sayori…” Remus buries his face into Logan’s shoulder, half of it at least. He still wanted to see what happened. They finished reading Sayori’s poem and Remus felt worried and he wished he could just grab Sayori and hug her and protect her himself.

Logan wraps an arm around Remus, holding him close as the game pans back to the houses, and they go to Sayori’s house. A sick feeling rests in both of their stomachs.

“Oh no, no no no no….”

The suspense was getting to Remus. He loved gore and horror but he hated the suspense in the few games he had played and the movies that felt with these topics.

“You alright?” Logan asked, looking to Remus worriedly. Remus nodded.

“Anxious about what we’re about to see,” he muttered, and Logan nodded, bringing the arm wrapped around Remus up to brush through Remus’s hair. The music was quiet and although Logan was worried as to what was about to be on screen, he just showed it less. He waited until he felt Remus relax slightly to continue.

They continued on, and after they opened the door-

“I knew it!”

“Oh God!”

They both jumped back, Remus burying his face again into Logan’s arm as Logan faced the door, only glancing back at the screen where Sayori hung. The music that followed just sent dread through them both.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Remus muttered as they sat back up to continue reading the narrative. “Poor Sayori, oh my God.” Remus rubbed his eyes as the loading screen came back.

“Hey, it’s different.”

“Huh?”

“Sayori’s place on the screen, it’s all glitched out. And the new game button.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I hate this but I love it,” Remus laughs slightly, trying to get his racing heart to get back to a normal rate.

Logan rubbed his back, his heart also beating quickly. He opened up the files for the game, remembering that it was something you should do. Remus watched as Logan went through the game files, first opening a file called hxppy thxughts.

“Holy shit-” Logan hissed, melting into Remus’s warmth as Remus held him tighter. On the screen was a drawing of Sayori hanging, almost looking as though a child drew it.

Remus leaned forward to close out the file. “Should we check anything else?”

“Sayori was really glitched. The characters, maybe?”

Remus hummed softly, before opening up the character files. “No! Ooooh…..”

Remus fell back into Logan’s arms. “This is freaky!”

Logan laughed slightly at that. “It’s only being freaky now?”

“You know what I meant! It having an effect on the files!” Remus huffed. “I can’t believe she was deleted!”

They left the characters file, and instead scrolled through all the other ones, just to be certain they didn’t miss anything. They discovered a file which someone was talking about deleting Sayori, that it was probably better and that they hoped they didn’t break the game.

Remus buried his face into Logan’s shoulder again, groaning slightly. “There’s still a lot of the game left, huh?” He asked. Logan nodded..

“Want to save it for tomorrow?”

“Let’s see how the game is with Sayori deleted. Then try to sleep, probably being haunted by the image of Sayori hanging there in our nightmares.”

Logan made some form of noise that sounded like agreement, and he shifted so Remus could rest his head on Logan’s chest as they continued. He had one arm wrapped protectively around Remus though, whether for his own comfort or Remus’s, neither knew not cared. Remus just shuffled closer.

They continued, starting a “new” game, and got caught up yet again in the narrative, fascinated and terrified with how the game continued, with the game correcting itself without Sayori. It was more difficult to keep up their silly voices. It did lighten the mood though.

It took awhile to get used to it all, especially only just recovering from Sayori’s death.

“Something about Monika is the most off,” Remus said. Logan nodded as he saved the game, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“She’s a really interesting character, that’s for sure.”

Logan turned off the TV, the only light now being a dim lamp. He stretched, and Remus didn’t think the nerd’s bones could pop any louder.

“Think we should head to bed, then?” Logan asked. They had snacked throughout the game, and weren’t that hungry. Remus could feel his face warm slightly.

“You sure?”

“I don’t see why either of us should sleep on the couch. Unless you’re uncomfortable with it, then you can have the bed and I can sleep out here!”

Logan smiled warmly, brushing some of Remus’s hair out of his face. Remus swallowed before smiling softly himself. No one besides Logan would ever want to be this close to him.

“I’m down to share a bed.”

Logan kissed his forehead before letting Remus go change into some pajamas.

Logan was already in bed by the time Remus had finished getting ready, and almost hesitantly Remus climbed in beside him.

“You’re certain you’re comfortable with this?” Logan asked. He really wanted to make sure Remus was okay with this, he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Remus slung an arm over Logan’s waist, cuddling close. He nodded. “Yeah. I just don’t want to take things too fast.”

Logan pressed another kiss to the top of Remus’s head. “That’s understandable.” Logan made himself a bit more comfortable. “Just let me know if you ever get uncomfortable, yeah?”

“Will do.” Logan smiled and took off his glasses, leaning over Remus to place the glasses on the nightstand before turning the light off. On the ceiling, dozens of glow-in-the-dark stars. Remus pressed closer to Logan, sighing in content.

Soon enough, both were asleep, dreams wandering back to the game they had been playing.

——————————-

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deetheteadrinkingdragon · 4 years

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A Tail of Purrs and Realisations

It seemed that each passing day, Callum learned more and more about his once elusive elf friend.

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It’s done! Here’s my gift for the @tdpholidayexchange

Merry Christmas @raylsheart !!! Surprise! It was me all along ahahaha! So here it is, for you, something soft and sweet and rayllum.

You can read the whole thing under the cut!

A/N: This is for Finn’s AU, in which elves have tails, and slightly more cat-like tendencies. It was incredibly fun to write!

It seemed that each passing day, Callum learned more and more about his once elusive elf friend.

It was usually in their rare down time, when the group could take a breather and just be for a while, and Callum, though he would never admit it out loud, couldn’t help but find himself fascinated with her. All of Rayla’s little quirks, her disposition, and how to read her moods, (he made a mental note of how her ears and tails would twitch, even so subtly and what they could mean) he found himself becoming more aware of her. Wanting to.

One such thing he had discovered more recently was that Rayla was actually a cuddler. This was understandably a huge surprise at first, she had seemed so distant once, but after slowly warming up to the boy, Rayla would often shuffle closer and closer in the evenings, until she could timidly drape her arms around him and bury her face in his shoulder. The first time, Callum had stiffened nervously, but over the past few days it had become natural, so much so that he would often invite her in with open arms and a smile.

It was always nice, feeling her warmth and weight against him, especially after those days where he had been sure that they would- that she would die. He would hold her close, rest his head against hers, and usually end up drawing for a while, and Rayla would drift off peacefully in his arms. It was intimate between friends to be sure, but it felt like something they both desperately needed and craved, the physical reassurance that they had survived, that death had not parted them.

…It had been another scarily close day today.

Xadia was so full of wonder and beauty, but like a rose, it had its thorns, and there were several dangerous creatures out in the wilderness. Rayla had narrowly given them time to escape the flock of Roc-hawks, (terrifying huge birds with teeth like daggers and curled ram like horns) by diverting their attention away from the princes as they dashed desperately for the treeline.

Callum had watched in horror as a beak nearly snapped shut around the elf’s tail before she slipped away between two rocks and rendezvoused with them safely within the cover of the trees. It was always scary, watching her risk her life like that, and every single time she made it out alive he would breathe a sigh of relief and thank the stars above him.

So he was grateful for her presence when she flopped against him tiredly that night, her arms loose around his midriff sighing about how annoying it was that they couldn’t go one lousy day without a near death incident. Callum simply smiled, slipping his arm around her to pull her close, and continued his drawing as Zym dozed next to them.

He could feel her eyes on the page, watching him as he drew. It always felt a little weird to have an audience now, he never really knew what to say or do, and it was a little off-putting to say the least. Was she judging him? She never really said much about it, choosing to watch in silence until sleep took her under its spell. Tonight was different though. Her voice almost made the boy jump.

“It’s incredible.”

“W-What?”

“How you do that.” She mumbled. “I have the artistic ability of a four year old but you… you make it look so easy.”

He relaxed a little. “Do you like watching me draw?” He asked gently, and felt her nod.

“Yeah it’s… weirdly soothing.” She shifted to get more comfortable, her tail curling slowly over the top of her calves, its end twitching leisurely back and forth. “It’s become my favourite part of the day.”

He chuckled at that, his hand drifting upwards to her shoulder without him really noticing. “Honestly any part of the day where we’re not running for our lives is my favourite part of the day.”

“That’s reasonable.”

“…I… do really wish you’d stop putting yourself in harm’s way so much though.”

Rayla huffed through her nose then. “I’ve told you before, it’s fine. I can handle it.”

Callum frowned, closing his sketchbook and carefully setting it aside next to the fast asleep Zym.

“But what if one day, you can’t, huh? What if one day, you try to protect us and- and you get in too deep? And what if I can’t help you?” She didn’t reply to that, but he could see her tail bristle up out of the corner of his eye. He took a breath to steady his thoughts. “Rayla… you are so strong, and brave, but there are limits. One day you’re going to rush off to protect us and you won’t… you…” He trailed off, the thought too painful.

Rayla shifted, sitting up and pulling away to look him in the eye. Their campfire flickered in her violet eyes, trying to read his own.

“Callum…” Her voice was soft- it was the tone she reserved for whenever she was worried about him. But whatever she was looking for in his eyes, she found it, and he watched the twinkle of understanding flash across hers. She opened her mouth as though to speak but his own words tumbled out suddenly, desperately, as though they had been building like a pressure in his heart for too long.

“I-I don’t know, I just… you… you and Zym, you’re all I have left right now, and if I lost you I-” His voice cracked and he swallowed hard. Rayla regarded him with sad sympathetic eyes. His voice came out small when he continued. “I don’t want that. You’re my friend, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Oh, Callum…” She pulled him in towards her, hugging him close. He could feel her hand against the back of his head, guiding him to rest against her shoulder, and her chin perched on his own as she held him tight. Callum squeezed her as though he would never let her go again, like she truly was all he had left in this world, and if he held her tight enough she wouldn’t slip through his fingers and disappear like everything else.

And then she was rubbing his back gently, just like his mother did for him when he was small. He felt a calm wash over him then. His racing heart slowed, steadying as she held him and his muscles relaxed, letting him just… be. To just be there, in the moment, in her arms. She had hugged him before but it always felt like such a momentous thing to him, for her, a Moonshadow elf, to let herself show such vulnerability and let him in, despite everything they had once thought about each other.

It was okay here, like this. It was safe. Warm. And given how tired she had been before it wouldn’t have been a shock to him if she fell asleep like this. He wouldn’t have minded, it was a comfort to know she was with him at night. Callum closed his eyes and sighed against her hair, his hand trailing slowly up and unconsciously, and he smoothed her snow white locks gently against the back of her head, combing his fingers carefully through them.

Something rather strange happened in that moment. Callum was about to learn two new things about Rayla. Firstly, it would appear that she was fond of having her hair played with. Secondly, he realised this first fact, because along with her leaning into his touch, he heard something against his ear, a strange, yet distinct and unmistakable noise.

A rumbly little purr.

He froze for a moment, in shock. But he couldn’t deny what he heard, because she continued to make the noise quietly, muffled against his scarf. Callum repeated the motion slowly, gently, and she shifted, the little purr growing louder.

He could feel it now, rumbling through his ribs, through his heart. Callum’s cheeks grew warm as he held her now. He could feel two heartbeats against his chest. Two. His and hers, beating together. Her heart ticked away so humbly, and in that moment a strange lump of emotion caught in his throat, as the realisation hit that she was alive. Despite all odds, she had survived another close encounter, and here she was quite peaceful and content holding onto him, arms loose and relaxed now, her fingers sleepily winding through his own hair.

He learnt something else in that moment as he held her so dearly close, something about himself this time.

He loved her.

And he was so glad she was alive.

Her purring stopped and slowly she pulled back to look him in the eye. “Callum… are you okay?” Perhaps she had heard minute changes in his breathing or heartrate, it wouldn’t have surprised him at this point. Her hand trailed to his chest resting gently over his heart, which he was now sure he could feel thumping against her fingers.

“Yeah… yeah I’m fine.” His voice came out softer than he expected, and he gave her a fond smile. “It’s just been a stressful day and I’m… really, really happy that you’re still here with me.”

Pink lightly dusted her cheeks now as she stared back at him, lips slightly parted. Something brave stirred in Callum in that moment and he reached up slowly and gently brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. She smiled, and tilted her head, eyes closed as she bumped her cheek into his palm.

Callum’s heart fluttered wildly but a warmth stirred in his chest and he brushed his thumb back and forth against her skin.

“You’re amazing, do you know that?” He mumbled tenderly.

“Mhm… yeah…” He felt her relaxing back down into his other arm her head resting on his shoulder. “I’m the most amazing elf in Xadia, and don’t you forget it.”

“I won’t.” He chuckled. “I promise.”

The purring started up again, quiet at first before it was a soothing rumble against his ear. Callum settled his head against hers, his cheek against her temple as he held her quite happily, savouring the moment.

There was a soft swish as her tail brushed against the ground, shifting the dust around them. And then he felt it. The sensation almost made him jump, as it brushed past and curled around his back loosely, the little silvery soft tufted end coming to a rest on his lap.

It almost seemed like a… protective gesture. A defensive one. He had noted on more than one occasion how she would curl it around herself when she was feeling particularly vulnerable. What did it mean, he wondered, for her to be bringing him into that space with her?

On most occasions, Rayla didn’t like her tail being touched. It was uncomfortable, she had said, especially when grabbed or pinned. Elf tails were often flickering, or twitching or swaying, even at rest, it was like a release of energy for them, and when that energy had nowhere to go it morphed into frustration. He had caught her once lightly scolding Zym for pouncing on her tail playfully, catching it lightly between his jaws. Though her tone was calm, patient, he had watched her tail thrashing irritably like an annoyed cat’s.

He had been curious of it a couple of times, but since then promised himself he wouldn’t overstep any boundaries or make her uncomfortable if he could help it. And yet…. It was right there. If he didn’t hold it down, maybe it would be okay? And if it wasn’t, then he’d apologise and never ever touch it again.

His fingers hovered anxiously, then he let them rest lightly against the part of her tail curled around his side.

The purring stopped instantly and she let out a little confused grumble, shifting.

“O-Oh- sorry was that…?”

“Hm…” She wriggled then relaxed again. “No… it’s fine. Just don’t hold it still.”

“Oh… Okay.” Timidly, he let his fingertips brush over it again. The fur was soft. Soft, silky, and white. Still, it twitched slightly under his touch, but this time she seemed more prepared and relaxed as he traced along its length to its tufty end. He realised that she had peaked an eye open then, staring intently at his hand, almost as curious as he was.

“Uh… I-Is this okay? It’s not weird is it?”

She gave a light shrug, then in a tone that was almost fond; “You’re weird.” Her tail curled a little more around him, almost like a reassuring squeeze. “But you’re fine, Callum.”

The boy relaxed, letting his arm drape around her again. “Oh, good. Because uh… you know I care about you, r-right? And I’d never ever want to do anything to make you feel weird or uncomfortable.”

“I know, Callum.” Her voice was soft now, quiet and sleepy. Her hand found his chest and she curled her fingers, letting them smooth down the fabric. She scrunched it slightly in her palm, slowly pressing it down, then relaxed her hand and repeated the little motion. Perhaps she liked how it felt, it was after all fancy royal Katolis silk, but even then he was sure it was nothing compared to the garments and fabrics of Xadia. Or, perhaps, it was another elf quirk. Either way it was endearing, and a smile caught on the corner of his lips.

Callum’s own fingers busied themselves with tracing little patterns against her upper arm, the tug of sleep extending to him now, and Rayla sighed, burying her face back into his shoulder.

As Callum begun to drift off, he hardly noticed this time when the purring started up again.

#rayllum #tdp #the dragon prince #rayla #callum

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secret-diary-of-an-fa · 5 years

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Hidden Gems of the Silver Screen (And, to a Lesser Extent, the Telly)

It can’t have escaped your notice that the majority of my more recent posts (and fuck knows I’m not posting regularly at the moment) are about movies and TV. The reason for that is pretty simple: 2019 has, surprisingly, yielded some great movies and TV... and also some really torrid shite. On the one hand, films like Ma, Brightburn and The Perfection continue to breathe new life into the horror genre. On the other hand, sci-fi as a cinematic and televised thing continues to ignore its actual audience in favour of sniffing its own farts in a sound-proof chamber designed specifically for next-level virtue-signalling. One thing I will say about the dreck of 2019 is that it’s interesting dreck, at least so far. Another Life, for example, isn’t just bad: it’s mind-bogglingly, fascinatingly bad, as though someone set out to make the worst TV series imaginable and accidentally created a portal to another dimension made entirely of crap.

With all the amazingly wonderful and transifxingly terrible visual media on offer lately, it’s easy to forget that there’s a rich repository of films and TV series from just a few years ago that you’ve probably never watched. You see if you, like me, are a snooty, card-carrying member of the elitist intelligentsia, you probably missed films and TV series that looked dumb as soup on the surface on the grounds that they weren’t worth your time. Luckily for you, I’ve dived nose-first into the detritus of our dying culture, so you don’t have to, and I’ve ferreted out the diamonds from the pig-swill. Without further ado, I’d therefore like to present my list Easily Overlooked Gems.

1. Mandy The phrase “Nicholas Cage stars in a sword-and-sorcery rape/revenge thriller” does not inspire confidence. It’s therefore easy to ignore Mandy and the promptly forget it ever existed. Which is a shame, because it’s kind of a work of genius. The plot is exactly what you’d expect: a cult kidnaps, rapes and kills Cage’s girlfriend, Mandy, and Cage sets out on a mission of revenge culminating in a blood-bath. The nature of the revenge quest is what puts a sting in the film’s tail- or tale, if you’re feeling puntastic. You see, a lot of the bad guys exist in a constant hallucinatory haze after taking a drug that sent them mad after one dose. In order to fight on their level, Cage has to take a dose too. As a result, the world around him slowly but surely transforms into a nightmare landscape that looks like a cross between a D&D illustration and the cover of a heavy metal album and his grubby, personal mission of fury takes on the unmistakable resonance of a Conan-esque hero’s quest. By the end of the film, you have to wonder if Cage has actually slipped into some sort of alternate dimension or if he’s just lost his game-pieces completely. In places, it’s nearly as painful to watch as Landmine Goes Click (crikey, there’s one for the history buffs) but it looks and feels like Beyond the Black Rainbow. Worth your attention just because of how weird it is. I give it a solid four-out-five decapitated rapists.

2. Baby Driver Nothing about Baby Driver suggested it would be a good film: the way it was advertised as a car-chase movie trying to be cute; the stupid title; the fact that it came and went through cinemas like a fart in the night. Which is a shame, because it’s secretly brilliant. It’s a highly stylised crime film populated with the archest archetypes money can buy (to the point where some of the dialogue has a weirdly beat-poetic feel to it). It’s saturated colour palette and off-beat affect actually have something of a full-colour Jim Jarmusch flick about them. The hook, of course, is that the lead character (only ever referred to as Baby, because he’s got a punchably youthful face) has tinnitus and therefore has to listen to music constantly to drown at the buzzing in his head. The practical upshot of this is that a) every single scene is overlayed with surprisingly great and situationally appropriate music and b) he goes through life like he’s always dancing, so his way of moving lends to the film’s easy-going sense of flow. It also explains where his preternatural driving skills come from (I mean, not really, but within the context of the plot): he’s used to sliding effortlessly into patterns and rhythms because of the music thing. All of this could make a terrible film, of course, but execution is everything and, to everyone’s surprise, especially mine, this flick was executed with an astonishing level of panache. I rate it ten out of ten grizzly motor way pile ups.

3. Nightflyers It’s not just films that get overlooked as the tide of culture washes back and forth, like a great big sea of effluent. TV series also vanish unduly into the dustbin of history. Case in point, the criminally underappreciated Nighrflyers: Netflix pre-Another Life sci-fi offering that was actually good. It’s a pretty classic set-up: a group of mismatched wing-nuts on a spaceship, all of whom have secrets that that will threaten to tear them apart while they try to make contact with an alien life-form. What elevates Nightflyers is just how fuck-uped the cast are. There’s an angry British psychic whose spent his whole life in captivity in case he goes full Scanners on somebody’s head, a guy who only ever appears as a hologram for reasons too twisted to explain here, his evil mother whose uploaded her mind to the ship’s computer and gone batshit crazy, a genetic superbeing and a hacker who can send her mind into computers via a dodgy implant and who may or may not be drifting out of touch with the human condition. It’s great. 6 and half billion out of 7 billion monkeys, boiling in the void.

4. Hardcore Henry No, I don’t know who thought that title was a good idea either, but the point is that Hardcore Henry has no motherfucking right to kick as much arse as it does. It was clearly made on a budget that would embarrass a Youtube shampoo commercial, but it just flat-out rocks. Shot entirely in first-person, it follows the adventures of a mute cyborg as he seeks revenge against the bastard psychic entrepreneur who first built him then tried to kill him. Along the way, his main ally is a dude who keeps dying and coming back to life in a series of identical bodies but with radically different personalities and haircuts (this is eventually explained, but I’m not going to spoil it for you). It’s premise is demented, it’s surprisingly well-choreographed and its soundtrack is an aphrodisiac for your ears. Also, Tim Roth is in it, so that’s just yer seal of quality right there. It came out to a lot of fanfare and many, many cinema trailers back in the day and was then promptly forgotten about as soon as it launched. So I’m dragging it kicking and screaming back into the limelight. It’s on Netflix right now, so go watch it. I rate it a solid 11 out of 15 creepy duplicates of Tim Roth.

5. Upgrade Another lesser-known film about a cyborg. Unlike Henry, however, this cyborg’s life doesn’t so much ‘rock’ as ‘suck balls’. He gets crippled and then ends up with a sentient computer chip in his head that allows him to remote-control his own body despite not having a working spine anymore. Naturally, his experimental tech attracts the attention of some unsavoury characters and he and his brain-chip have to work together to figure out what’s going on, often through a series of ultra-violent, gory fight-scenes that horrify the protagonist himself. Of course, all might be well, except that the head-chip is a homicidal little shit that clearly has its own agenda. I give it at least 0000 0111 out of 0000 1001 painstakingly restored vintage kill-bots.

6. The Tick The Tick isn’t as overlooked as everything else on this list, especially since there have been a couple of previous televised incarnations of the franchise to lay the groundwork. However, I still feel like the modern iteration doesn’t quite get the love it deserves, so I’m throwing it out here. Following the adventures a mad, amnesiac and possibly stupid superhero and his neurotic sidekick, The Tick explores a world where superheroes aren’t the paragons of good from classic comics, the corrupt psychotics of The Boys or Watchmen, or the eternally struggling, walking moral life-lessons of modern cinema. Instead, they’re just ordinary people operating at various levels of competence/incompetence and mental illness and working within a bureaucratic, wildly inefficient framework. That might not sound like a recipe for a successful TV series, but it really is. Drawing out the mundane, human side of heroes and villains against the backdrop of cataclysmic, civilisation-threatening events makes for infinitely compelling and very, very funny viewing. It’s kind of doing for the superhero genre what Futurama did for sci-fi a few years back. It’s also where the phrase and/or popular song ‘seven billion monkeys boiling in the void’ comes from. My rating is four out of five sapient, homosexual boats (which will make sense when you watch it).

7. The Void Amid the high-budget horror extravaganzas of recent years, it’s easy to forget about the void, which feels like the best story H.P. Lovecraft never wrote and looks like David Chronenberg tried to adapt a Heironimous Bosch painting... in the ‘80s. The actual plot concerns a group of people getting trapped in a hospital by murderous cultists and discovering dark secrets and, arguably, a whole other dimension in its basement. You’re not exactly there for the plot though: The Void is a mood-piece and an exercise in visual FX craftsmanship. You’re there to drink in the atmosphere and see what each new cosmic horror looks like. I am delighted to award it ten out of ten unspeakable whisperers in the darkness. That’s enough for two barbershop quartets, an emcee and a supporting act.

8. Happy Death Day It’s Groundhog Day but as a horror film starring a really annoying lass in her late teens has to keep dying horribly until she learns to stop being such a terrible person... and also kill her murderer with a little help from her newly-minted, non-cunty friend. There’s a sequel that I haven’t seen yet, but the original is a low-key, oft-overlooked delight. I give it 9 out of 11 suspiciously similar corpses.

#Secret Diary of a Fat Admirer #films #tv shows #movies #Mandy #Baby Driver #Nightflyers #The Tick #The Void #Tick #happy death day #Upgrade

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friking-awsom-kitten · 5 years

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Sleeping beauty just need some coffee IASA Chapter 4

He gasped, sitting up in shock. However, something refrained him from getting enough air and was shoved up deep into his throat. He chocked and grasped whatever was blocking his airways, ripping it off. Suddenly he could breathe again and he took big gulps.

His eyes flitted around the room in a panic, not recognizing where he was. Something to his left caught his eye and he stared at the woman that had been checking a machine next to him.

The woman dropped what she was holding and screamed.

He screamed back.

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Sam had been staring out the window for a long time now. She didn't pay attention to whatever the teacher was saying. Few kids did.

Word of Danny had gotten around pretty fast and by the end of the first day everyone knew. It had been chaos.

Some people were angry and wanted to bill the Fentons for all the damage Danny's fights had gotten them. Some wanted to report the parents for child abuse. Most were furious at the GIW for disrespecting basic human rights and trying to capture a boy and were pestering the government to shut it down. The president, however, wouldn't back down, saying they were the best of the best at ghost science and this town needed them.

But almost everybody was grateful for Danny and all he'd done for the town.

A lot of people had visited him in the hospital. Including several of Sam's classmates.

They would also continuously ask the two friends questions.

About how it happened. If Danny's parents had known. Whether they got to fight ghosts too. Whether Danny would keep protecting the town or if he was ok.

Sam honestly didn't know. It had been two weeks. She'd never been more worried than she was now. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense, though. He had been exhausted. Physically and mentally. He was probably on the bridge of collapsing anyways and that blast must have depleted his energy reserves.

She sighed and glanced towards Tucker, who was staring at his phone. The device was turned off and pushed far away on the table, but the boy didn't take his eyes off of it.

All of a sudden, a sharp ring interrupted the teacher. Everyone jumped a bit in their seats and they turned to look at Tucker, who was scrambling to pick up his phone and putting it on his ear.

"Yes? For real?!" Tucker's eyes widened and he looked at Sam. "He's awake!"

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They burst in the hospital room. They had memorized the way long before and could walk from the receptionist to the ICU wing in their sleep.

Their eyes immediately fell on the small family in the corner.

Maddie looked about ready to cry and Jack was standing still with furrowed eyebrows. It was not a sight Tucker and Sam had expected to see.

The cause of all this grief was sitting up on his bed with a frustrated expression. He didn't have a breathing mask on anymore and the IV had been removed.

"Danny!" Sam cheered and sprang forward to hug him. He tensed under her hug and she frowned, letting go. "Danny?"

The boy huffed, looking incredibly uncomfortable. "So I've been told. Who are you?"

She was so perplexed her arms went slack. Tucker sucked in a gasp and they both turned to the doctor that had been standing next to them. He cleared his throat. "Yes. Daniel seems to suffer from Amnesia. From what you have told me and what we discovered, this was caused by a combination of sleep deprivation, malnutrition, and recent stress. The severe concussion he recently got sealed it. It affected his hippocampus." The doctor stopped reading from his paper and looked Danny over before continuing. "From what I have gathered up to now, he seems to only be affected on the explicit memory, meaning the memory of the places and the times and the people. Or the who, what, where, when and why. However, the implicit seems normal, thankfully."

"The what?" Tucker breathed out, barely able to form words as he tried to understand everything happening.

"That means the skills he has learned. He can walk, talk, breathe, and all the motoric functions he has learned throughout his life, as well as riding a bike or reading. However, I'm not sure whether his semantic memory is damaged. This is the common knowledge. For example the days of the month. Or when his birthday is. The damage on that may vary."

The raven gave an exasperated sigh. "If you go through that explanation one more time I'm gonna give myself another concussion."

"Well," Tucker smiled weakly, even though tears were threatening to fall, "he didn't change personality-wise."

The other boy grinned. "He did say I still have the skills I learned. Must have practiced my sass a lot because I'm a pro."

Sam snorted. "Yeah. You did." She turned to the doctor. "But they will come back, right? This isn't permanent?"

For the first time, the doctor's face fell. "I- we aren't sure. Retrograde amnesia, which is what this condition is called, doesn't have a cure, but there are some ways to coach old memories to come back. Most patients remember their oldest memories, but Danny doesn't seem to even have that. If he does regain some memories, it will most likely be from early childhood. However, we can't be sure. It could get better, worse, or stay like this for the rest of his life." He looked at the pale faces in the room and smiled encouragingly. "But I don't think it will get worse given that this was a brain injury, first and foremost."

He nodded towards the parents. "Before I run a blood test and prescribe anything, I need some questions answered." He took out a list and a pen. "Did Daniel take medications? Any past health problems? For example seizures or strokes or infections? Did he take drugs?" He crossed over every time they shook their heads or wrote down when they mentioned something about a panic attack or how he had had an accident in the portal.

The doctor shook his head. This kid was a walking medical catastrophe. It was no wonder he ended up with amnesia. He sighed and put his papers down. "I'll send for a drug test and he'll have an MRI scan. After that he will have to stay in the hospital for a few more days until he is fully healed. Daniel, will you let us put back the IV?"

Danny scrunched his nose. "Ugh why. I'm awake now. I just need some food. Do you guys have some fries?"

"We'll get you appropriate food after the IV is back on. Your body is still short on nutrients."

"Please, Danny." Maddie begged. "The sack also has some ectoplasm. It will help you heal faster. You will be able to get out of here sooner."

Danny pursed his lips. This woman claimed to be his mom, and let me tell you how weird it is to not even remember your own mother. He wasn't even sure if he could trust these people. They could be lying to him for all he knew. But he had no other option. Besides, that woman gave him a comforting vibe. He smiled at her unconsciously and nodded. "Alright, but the second I'm out I want pancakes."

All the medical procedures had been run and the doctor had decided Danny would stay two more days before he could go home. All Danny's injuries had been healed during his coma. He claimed nothing hurt and only complained about getting food. Something nobody was surprised about. The boy hadn't eaten normal food in weeks. What they were surprised about was that he was so restless. He should be tired. In fact, he should still be unconscious. But nobody was about to complain about that.

What Danny really wanted was a bath. He felt dirty and gross. He was horrified to learn he'd been washed during his slumber and couldn't look at any nurse in the eye after that.

However, he felt especially uncomfortable when groups of strangers walked through the door and grinned at him and gave him presents and took pictures.

He glanced at the table next to him. It was simply covered in 'thank you' and 'get well' notes and some kind of merchandise. He had also gotten many pictures and drawings, but they were so confusing he couldn't figure heads or tails of it. On the other side were also some balloons and a few stuffed animals and to top it off, all around him were flowers.

I must have been some kind of celebrity, Danny thought. But why were they thanking him?

A girl suddenly burst through the doors and tackled the poor boy. He let out a yelp and she let go just as fast as she'd latched on and started rambling.

"I'm so sorry. I came as soon as I heard and then the plane was delayed and I first had to arrange a short vacation and I had to finish this assignment and they wouldn't let me go saying you weren't in danger of death and they said 'Alright, you can go, but if you don't get that degree it's on you' and I swear I was about to strangle them."

Danny couldn't understand what she was talking about so he took the time to inspect her. She had long brownish-red hair and he could honestly see the resemblance to his apparent mother. This must be Jasmine, his older sister.

The girl seemed to catch on that Danny wasn't responding and she paused, looking at him good for the first time. They stared at each other in silence for some time, taking in the other sibling.

Jasmine held out her hand and smiled. "Hello. My name is Jasmine, but you can call me Jazz. I'm sorry about just now. I was a bit worried."

Danny blinked in surprise. Why was she introducing herself? She must know he had amnesia. He grinned. It felt nice to know at least someone didn't come asking him if he knew them or expecting something from him. He shook her hand. "I don't think I need to introduce myself since you probably know me better than I do. You're my sister, right?"

Her smile brightened and he silently congratulated himself. "Yes. I'm two years older. So I'm nineteen and you're gonna be seventeen in Oktober 27. It's July 13 today. I just came from college."

Danny smiled softly, grateful for all the information she was giving him. He felt awkward having to ask such simple things. "Are you in the first year?"

She nodded. "I'm studying creative therapy. To put it simply, it's a kind of therapy for people who can't put their problems into words so instead do it with their hands. The therapist then can study their movements and results to see how they think and how to help them. There are many types and I'm doing a mix between drama and art."

She continued talking and Danny listened. He learned so much. She told him all about her and her life and her friends and even what recently happened in college. It was as if they were catching up on old times.

She didn't mention anything about Danny, or what he used to do or what they did together and he was grateful for that. It would have felt like she was telling him what he should have done and he would've felt obligated. It was an insane thought, given that all that had happened in the past, but he didn't want people telling him who he was.

They talked for hours. Mostly she was the one speaking, but Danny often put in his opinion or input in something and she would laugh.

At one point, a violet-eyed girl and a dark-skinned boy walked in and joined them. Danny remembered them as the two people who were there when he woke up. He tensed a bit, but they just greeted him and sat down. They said some words to Jazz and turned to look at him.

The boy wiped his hands on his pants and cleared his throat, but at a look from Jazz he smiled at Danny. "Hey, man. I don't think we told you our names. I'm Tucker Foley and that's Sam Manson."

Danny nodded towards them, but frowned at the girl. "Are your eyes naturally purple?"

Sam rolled said eyes as Tucker laughed. "No." She admitted. "They're blue. I got these contact lenses from my grandmother. She didn't want them to go to waste."

Tucker laughed some more. "Her grandmom used to be really rebellious as a teen. She saw potential in Sam," he told Danny and so the conversation went into flow again.

Sam and Tucker telling Danny about themselves and complaining a bit about school. They also told him how they met.

Apparently, Danny had known these people for practically all his life. Since kindergarten. That was a weird thought.

Jazz had glared at them for bringing that up but Danny sighed. "It's ok, Jazz. I'm gonna get this a lot from now on."

Sam winced. "Sorry. Just thought you'd want some background information. If there's something you don't like talking about we won't. Just tell us, alright?"

Danny shrugged. "That's just the thing, Sam. I don't know anything about anything. Everyone expects me to know all kinds of stuff and then it's just gonna get awkward." He huffed, frowning. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. I'll just figure out what my life is now."

Jazz grinned, beaming proudly. "That's the way to look at it, Danny. Just start off fresh."

Except that wasn't entirely possible. The moment Danny was admitted out of the hospital he knew his life was way weirder than he had thought at first.

When he was let out there was a crowd waving him off and cheering and he got a green sock thrown at him so that was a nice way to enter the world fresh.

Then there was the house he apparently lived in.

He honestly had no idea what to say about that. It looked like aliens had infiltrated earth and were doing a terrible job at laying low.

He sighed, ignoring all the paparazzi and following the two adults inside. It was much better inside. It was very clean. As if it had been prepared for his arrival. That just made him feel more guilty.

Maddie and Jack were grinning at him as they gave him a tour of the house. Maddie more nervously, while Jack was excited.

The first and second story were pretty normal. On the first was the kitchen and the living room. Then upstairs were all the bedrooms. Danny paused in what was apparently his room. It looked pretty clean and neat. He must have been either a perfectionist or his mom had tidied it up for him. He was gonna go with the second one.

Finally, he was shown the basement and the op Center, which is what they called the UFO on the house. The UFO looked exactly how Danny imagined a UFO would look like. It was huge and had a lot of wires. Somewhere something was beeping, but he couldn't figure out what.

Then the basement. Danny shivered as soon as he entered. He saw millions of weird machines and guns and a milkshake maker he decided not to trust. The name Fenton appeared everywhere. Like a logo.

Then there was a door at the other side of the room. It had a beethemed pattern as if warning people of toxins. Danny felt like he should put on a face mask or something to protect himself. His father was wearing some type of protective suit.

"What do you do for a living," he asked, exasperated.

"We're ghost hunters!" Jack grinned, leaving Danny with a baffled expression.

"Why do you hunt ghosts?" He asked, stumped and curious. The part about ghosts didn't surprise him much. It felt as normal as the fact birds were chirping outside.

Jack's expression fell and he exchanged a look with Maddie. "Well son." He started cautiously. "We're ghost scientists. We have been studying them for years. We sometimes catch one to learn more about them from up close."

"Like they're animals." Danny frowned and his parents grimaced.

"They're not all sentient, Danny." It was Maddie who said this. "And Amity park has been haunted by ghosts for years. Most of them attacked and destroyed."

"Well maybe most of them just stayed home minding their own business and the ones that did mean bad came here so we don't see the other side of their world."

To his surprise Maddie smiled softly. "Yes. You may be right."

They didn't tell him much about the things in the basement. In fact it was the shortest they had been in a room and they practically shoved him back up the stairs.

They stayed in the living and talked a bit and Maddie went to the kitchen to cook some dinner because it was already pretty late in the afternoon. Danny had a foreboding feeling. Probably because how Jazz paled and sent him a few scared looks.

Danny stood up and followed his mother to see her fumbling around the fridge, trying to find something that didn't try to bite her hand off. "Hey?" Danny started, unsure if this would be seen as impolite. "Do you want me to help you cook dinner?"

The woman brightened considerably as she slammed the fridge shut and smiled at him. "Are you sure? I mean. Yes, I would love it if you did this with me."

Danny nodded and rolled his sleeves up before washing his hands. Maddie's eyes widened when she realized she'd forgotten to do that.

"So what are we making?"

Maddie scrunched her face. "I'm not sure yet, Danny. There isn't much left that is edible."

"Where do you keep all the food?" Her boy's eyes searched the small kitchen and she remembered he had forgotten all of that.

She pointed out the fridge and a few cabinets and he looked through them, bringing out many types of ingredients and selecting a few out. He asked for the pots and the pans and she pointed it out. He asked for herbs and she showed him. He asked her anything and she gave him the answer, watching in amusement as he fell right into his element.

Maddie settled back a bit as she saw him swiftly cut some carrots and dump them in the pot. She smiled. It had been a long time ago that Danny had taken the job of a cook in this house. Given that no one had any insight in it or kept mixing the sauce with the wrong chemical (what do you mean chemicals aren't supposed to go in food?). The raven had looked up recipes or he would cook ready-made food.

He'd started simple and after a while started mixing in his own stuff and experimenting. He had loved it. Maddie had let him drop a few chores so he would have time to prepare and make dinner. He would write a list of groceries and tape it on the fridge and Jack would go buy it.

In fact, Maddie could see the last note he had written still on the top left of the refrigerator. Her eyes watered a bit.

"Are you ok?"

She wiped her eyes and nodded. "Just that onion you were cutting just now. It's fine. Go ahead. You're doing a great job." She smiled. "Anything else you need?"

He shook his head as he flipped some pieces of meat on the sizzling pan. "Well, not for now. There are no more potatoes. And when was the last time you refilled the salt? And I had to use something else instead of the paprika because that's all done too. And you got way too much beef. How are you going to eat it all before it expires."

Maddie's smile turned nostalgic as she saw all he listed right now written on the little sticky note on the fridge. "We usually don't," she told him, earning herself a look of disgust.

Finally, the dinner was ready and they all say down to eat. Each family member congratulating the boy on the excellent food and what would they do without him. They didn't mention how they'd barely survived the two weeks he'd been absent.

Jazz was just in college, but Jack and Maddie had to constantly order pizza or eat in a restaurant every night. Even something as making some toast was always a hassle. Not only because the toaster sometimes malfunctioned and threw up the bread so hard it stuck on the ceiling, but Maddie was also very sure bread shouldn't be green.

Now they had Danny back. Everything had changed. Just....everything.

But he was back.

They talked a bit more. Danny asked about the many drawings they'd had to carry back home along with the rest of the presents. Who was that man on the drawings that looked to be made by kids ranging from three to fifteen?

Jack looked excited to tell him something, but Jazz had shushed them. She smiled at Danny reassuringly. "How about we talk about that tomorrow. You have enough to think on right now." She stacked the empty plates and brought them to the sink. "You heard the doctor. Get some rest. I'll do the dishes. Don't worry about school yet. You have a few weeks to recuperate and get used to life."

Danny looked at each of the people in the room, taking in their appearance and demeanor. If this was his family, no matter how crazy, he loved it. He smiled and turned around, bidding them a good night.

He walked up the stairs and paused, trying to remember where his room was.

He had a small moment of panic when he couldn't recall right away. What if he forgot more things? What if he forgot whatever he did today? What if the doctor was wrong and my amnesia isn't just of whatever happened before the concussion and I'll keep forget- oh wait his door was the one in the left hall.

He sighed in relief when his assumption was proved correct as the door opened. He closed it behind him and took a good look around.

The walls were white, but they had been covered in many posters about some kind of egg band or about a Doom. He wasn't sure. There were also some NASA posters and the wall next to his desk had a big board covered in pictures. There was a blackhaired boy with Sam and Tucker. A lot of those actually. And some about random places Danny had no clue about.

But his eyes wandered to that boy again. Was that...him?

He hadn't looked in the mirror yet. It was strange. Not knowing what you looked like.

Was that really him?

He found a mirror next to the dresser and the closet. It was large. It could fit his whole upper body and a bit of his legs.

He paused before taking a peek. A pit in his stomach and a bit of adrenaline made him jump forward and stare at the boy in the mirror.

He looked a bit older than in those pictures. But he still has black hair, blue eyes, a small nose and smallish eyes and thin lips and fat cheeks and freckles. Although he felt better knowing he had a bit of a jawline and the baby fat was less than in the pictures. His hair was also longer. And it was messy. Probably hadn't been brushed in weeks. Even if they had washed it, as they said, it still looked greasy and dirty.

He didn't feel like doing much of his appearance right now.

He wanted to explore.

He put to the side the pile of presents his father had dumped in his room after having brought it from the hospital and went rummaging through his room.

He opened every drawer, looked at every piece of clothing and squinted under every piece of furniture and he learned a bit about his past self.

He didn't have much variety in clothing. It was mostly T-shirts, jeans and sweaters. There was one neat suit shoved in the back, though.

He had some kind of obsession with stars.

Same thing goes for ghosts. There was even a map in his dresser. Along with a long list of names and some kind of description behind them.

He looked in the bathroom, which he had found he had right in his room. He found a first aid kit shoved under the sink, which he found odd. The rest was just normal supplies for in the shower.

But for the rest, his old life was still a mystery to him. Danny wondered if he would ever gain it back. Had he always been this famous? Wasn't it exhausting? And why had everyone been thanking him?

He suddenly wondered where his phone was. He should have one right? He'll ask his mother tomorrow.

But he really wanted to look up amnesia on the internet.

His eyes fell on a beat up laptop and he tried to turn it on, but it had a password. The hint wasn't even helpful. It just said 'bitch' and Danny honestly felt attacked and offended.

He plopped down on the bed with a deep sigh.

Everyone told him to get rest, but that was the last thing he wanted to do. He felt so energetic and restless. He didn't think that should be normal. He was pretty sure patients just coming out of comatose shouldn't feel rested.

Sigh, just one more thing he wanted to look up on the internet.

He also wanted to know how he went into a coma.

The doctor had vaguely mentioned a concussion or another kind of head injury. Must have been bad. He'd also made it pretty clear Danny was up long before anyone had thought he would be.

Maybe if I had slept for a bit longer, Danny thought, I would have been able to keep my memories.

He groaned quietly. Nothing made sense. Life was a weird jumble of gibberish and with every piece of information he made out it just became even weirder.

He lifted his arm to look at one picture he found he liked. A white haired anime man was standing with hands on his hips and a cape fluttering behind him. Sparkles had been thrown around as well as glitter that had been glued on.

There wasn't a note or anything, just a boy's name. Joey. Along with a small drawing of a dinosaur that Danny didn't think had anything to do with the rest.

That same anime boy turned up everywhere. On the balloons. On the plushies. On the shirt he'd gotten. On the posters the poeple seeing him off from the hospital were holding.

Who was that dude??

And what did Danny have to do with him??

Danny stood up and walked towards the mirror again. He cocked one hip as he put his hands on them and frowned at the image.

"Who are you?" He asked the boy with exasperation. "And just how crazy is your life?"

#danny phantom #danny fenton #amnesiac!Danny #jack fenton #maddie fenton #jazz fenton #ghosts #ghost zone #why do i keep tagging it with so much

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deathfrisbeeinthetardis · 4 years

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The Sky Beast, New and Improved Chapter 2

Yay I wrote a second chapter for the fic!! One of the key plot points is inspired by @q-unsolved‘s amazing art :D

Summary:

Ryan Bergara is 100% human until they shoot the Mothman episode. They didn’t find anything but Ryan might have brought a piece of the investigation home with him. Or: A bit of Mothman attaches to Ryan and he gets pretty cool perks. Shane is a fan.

Chapter 2 Summary:

Ryan goes to work with his wings tucked away, and they go camping for the weekend. Hijinks ensue.

Find it on Ao3 here or read below!

They take a sick day.

Partly to figure out how to best keep Ryan's transformation a secret from the rest of the world. Partly just because it is all new and exciting, and the two men want the chance to completely regress to boys for the occasion, you know, to celebrate.

Case in point, Ryan is flapping around his apartment with Shane on his tail, his wings doing all the work to keep them and Ryan's body from crashing into the walls or the furniture. They had taken time before this to clear away everything of value from shelves or tables, of course, they were capable of behaving like adults for a few minutes longer before they totally lost it.

"How's your six-foot-fourness helping now huh?" Ryan shouts with glee, cackling breathlessly as his wings maneuver him deftly away from Shane's outstretched hands, settling him to perch on top of a cupboard.

"Damn it, why aren’t you obeying the laws of physics?" Shane wheezed, supporting his hands on his bent knees before said cupboard with a giant grin on his face, which brightened even more, "You know what? Your mob name is going to be wings now if I am to be called legs! It's only fair." he declared, straightening with hands on his hips.

"Uh, no way. My wings are totally going to be my secret weapon! I can't go announcing that to all my enemies, also Night-Night is way cooler. You're just jealous." Ryan stuck out his tongue, relishing in the joy of this moment. The past two hours actually, they really haven't accomplished much.

It takes another half an hour before both of them are too exhausted and hungry to continue, and they collapse onto Ryan's couch with a carton of orange juice between them, chugging it down with the fervor of men after vigorous aerobic exercise and several cases of severe laughter-syndrome.

"So," Shane says when his breaths finally start to even out, "We know you can fly outside the natural laws of this earth. Also, I think I saw you're eyes glint red when the light hit it a few minutes ago, you're not about to go rogue on me now are you?"

"Wait, really?" He really hadn't noticed, cause that's not how eyes work. It was probably too dark the last time he looked in the mirror that morning for him to see. Ryan sets the carton onto the coffee table and hops over it to get to the window where watery sunlight shines into the room. Using his phone as a makeshift mirror, he wiggles his head until the light catches his eyes at a certain angle and, "Oh wow, they really are red."

"That could be a problem with filming, especially when our cameras are all good enough to avoid red-eye." Shane pauses, then chuckles, "Oh boy, if the fans ever find out they are going to go crazy. All those theorists positing how I'm a demon are gonna come after you now!"

Ryan wrinkles his nose at his reflection, "You're being way too happy about this."

"Hey, you win some you lose some. At least your red eyes are normal-sized, not like goggles or something like in the myths."

"Goggles," Ryan frowns at that, something in his memory sparking an idea, "didn't you recently get those pair of broke-Tony Stark glasses? The yellow ones?" He eyes Shane without turning, "You think they sell red ones? I can always say the red is from the glasses' reflection."

The other man makes a considering noise and pulls out his phone, after a minute his brows climb high on his forehead, stretching out his hand to show the screen displaying an astounding collection of red-tinted sunglasses, "They're supposed to help with visibility apparently, like the yellow ones." He strokes his nonexistent goatee, "Hmm I wonder what character wears red glasses, I gotta get you back for that Tony Stark comment."

"Shut up, Shane," Ryan replies almost on instinct, squinting at the screen to pick out the least obnoxious design. There was an optician's a few blocks from his apartment and Shane volunteers to get Ryan a pair while he practices camouflaging into a normal human workplace.

It actually turns out to be pretty easy, just as long as he keeps the thought of the necessity of the invisibility in the back of his mind. Ryan also discovers to his delight and Shane's halfhearted dismay that tangibility does not seem to affect his flight ability much beyond some extra concentration. He'll be fine tomorrow at work. He'll just have to remember to take a break every few hours to stretch or something.

The shoot on Monday though, that could be a problem. Now that he has gotten used to his wings through one day of intense usage, Ryan has absolutely no guarantees that if he gets spooked he won't just flap away on instinct.

Shane sleeps over that night to 'observe the Mothman in his natural habitat', Ryan decides his newest favorite sleeping position right in the middle of a five-pillow nest and when he drifts off he dreams about the red-eyed Mothman from the stories.

On Friday, Ryan wears the biggest hoodie he owns to work, just in case his wings pop-out unplanned. Despite the confidence from the day before, paranoia of a different kind creeps up on him as he sits at his desk next to Shane. He almost never comes in this early, but it was better than walking through the office with everyone there.

He stares bleary-eyed when his computer boots up, taking his new glasses out of the case and setting them on his nose. The color gives everything a mildly sinister tinge and makes him more self-conscious of his appearance than he has been in a long time, but they do their job.

He's quite proud that he only jumps a little when Jen calls "Nice specs, Ryan!" from six desks away. He also manages to wait until lunch break before he has to race to the bathroom to let his wings out. One of the pros of working at Buzzfeed is that there are constantly so many weird things happening that his abnormal choice in eye-wear didn't draw any attention more than a few comments and even some compliments.

All things considered, it's a good day. Ryan even manages to get a good chunk of editing done amidst his paranoia and routine banter with Shane, the latter has gradually started to become more and more moth specific. Seriously did the guy research all the moth puns through the night?

"What do you call a group of moths dancing around a light?" Shane leans over to say an hour before they can go home for the weekend, his eyes twinkling, "A moth pit."

Ryan groans, choosing not to respond as the passive-aggressive way to protest against the excessive abuse of all things moth-related within the day. His shoulders feel stiff, and out of habit he folds his arms behind his head and leans back in a long slow stretch, and it is the most satisfying stretch in his life, as the strain of a whole afternoon of mostly sitting still with his head craned forward just vanishes. He hums a little in satisfaction.

Simultaneously, the lights overhead go out. So does his computer. And everyone else's.

"Oh no no no my computer just crashed!?"

"Is there a power outage? What's going on?"

"I didn't save..."

Ryan is frozen in his position as the cacophony of voices barrages his now slightly enhanced hearing, and it hits him a moment later. In a flash, he's hunching down in his seat, trying to seem as small as he can with his face in his hands, while his invisible wings come down to wrap around him from where they had just stretched too, unseen. Fuck. Wasn't there a thing about electrical malfunctions on the nights of Mothman sightings? Oh god, he hopes he didn't knock the whole of Los Angeles off the grid. He feels his face flush, the skin heating up against his palms. Great job Bergara. Fantastic managing of your powers.

Shane, who had been in the process of returning to his own editing after snickering at his godawful joke, has his hands hovering over the keyboard and a bemused smile on his face as he tilts his head and sees Ryan with the hood of his hoodie pulled down over his face.

"I'm sorry," Ryan mumbles faintly into his hands, "I didn't think that part would apply to me."

Shane looks at him for a moment, then he claps a hand on Ryan's shoulder and wiggles him a little in his seat as his smile splits into a grin, "Lucky for you, I save my work by the hour. Otherwise, you'd have to fly like hell cause I'll tackle you."

"You'd never catch me," Ryan says, lifting his head a little to shoot a grateful glance at the taller man, "remember yesterday?"

"Oh but I was unprepared!" Shane declares, rubbing his hands and widening his eyes until he resembled a crazed hunter, "Next time I'll have a bow and a ton of those suction-tipped arrows, and I'm bringing you down baby!"

"You're unbelievable." Ryan huffs with a laugh, glancing around the pandemonium that has descended onto the BuzzFeed office and what seems to be the street outside as well, "Ugh, wanna head back now? We're gonna have to walk, uber is definitely not going to work."

Shane nods, chuckling silently at the whole situation. On their way out, Ryan desperately avoids eye contact with anyone and stares at his red-tinted feet, only snapping out of his inner guilt tirade when Shane pokes him in the rib.

"Stop looking down and hunching your shoulders, makes you look more guilty." He chides, the stupid grin still on his face as he tugs Ryan's hood back as they walk onto the sunlit street. "They'll just blame it on PG&E. The whole thing will teach everyone a lesson to be on top of their job and not rely entirely on technology and big electrical companies to save their work."

"You're just smug that you didn't get affected as much." Ryan retorts, but the comment didn't have any actual heat behind it.

"You bet I am. Come on, buck up buddy. We've got the entire weekend to have fun with this!" The taller man gestured to the general area on Ryan's back where his wings hung hidden, "Don't you want to go into the wild and see what happens?"

Ryan would never tell Shane this, but his wings stir and shudder a little at the words as if they were dying to show the extent of their abilities. Traitors.

They end up in Monrovia Canyon Park after an hour-long drive that afternoon, since they figured most of LA's population would be out in the city doing fun Friday night things, so the chances of anyone seeing a figure flying through the trees of the park are greatly reduced. Fortunately, they arrive with around an hour of sunlight left to hike in and set up their camping gear. Unfortunately, the light gives Ryan the opportunity to read the sign at the trailhead.

"Fuck no." Ryan yelps, pointing an accusing finger at the picture of a black bear with the words 'warning, you are entering bear territory' emblazoned in black under it. He's terrified of bears, those things are the apex predators of the land, and Shane knows that because they've argued about this multiple times, on camera. It's probably why he chose this damn park over the others. "I am not camping here with those things around."

The man shrugs and the tall backpack on his shoulders rise up at least half a foot with the motion. "It is the most heavily wooded park in the area, and I do have this bear mace here," He says innocently, though his brown eyes sparkling in the sunlight seem to issue a challenge that riles up something in Ryan into a frenzy. "And in case you forgot, you can fly, Ryan, no bears are gonna get you."

"I hate you," Ryan mutters darkly, shooting the other man a look that was something between affection and scorn. What Shane said makes sense, logically, and Ryan is beyond annoyed when stuff like this happens on the regular. Speaking of powers, he wonders if there are any more tricks up the Mothman's sleeve that he can use to give Shane a good getting back at.

Ryan half stomps over and yanks the canister of anti-bear from the side pocket of the taller man's pack, scowling at his snicker and latches onto the cool metal with a death grip, finger crooked into the trigger. Shane is right on one account, no bears are going to get him on this trip, or he'll get a face of mace and whatever cool shit Mothman can do when it's spooked.

They dump their bags in a patch of grass amidst the trees, far from any established trails or camping grounds just to be safe. With a sigh of relief, Ryan's wings materialize at his back, dark against the dimly lit forest around them, dwarfing Ryan with their span. It seems they hadn't been at their full size that day in his apartment. They now stretch twelve feet in total, drawing a sharp awed inhale from Shane as the powerful limbs flex and stretch in their freedom. The best part? Ryan didn't even have to take off his hoodie, the wings found their own way through the material without really altering it.

Ryan rolls his neck and relishes the warmth that the cracks leave behind as the soreness melts away, and he grins at Shane. "What now?" he says, a little breathless already.

"Whatever feels natural, Ryan." Shane says with a wolfish grin of his own, "Just let go of all the stress and embrace mother nature."

So Ryan lets his eyes flutter close and gives in to that wild part in him that has started stirring since their investigation in Virginia. When he opens his eyes again, their red glint sharpens his vision as his wings carry him straight up into the air. The wind whips at his face and he has his arms spread wide, laughter bubbling out of him as his previous fear of heights dissolves into the crisp rich air.

He rides the soft winds, weaving through the semi-dense woods around their campsite and listens to his new instincts as he twirled in the air performing moves that he had once seen professional divers do. He feels free in there, and even though the falls and dips in height still send his stomach clenching, it's more in anticipation of the thrill of control, of pulling back at the very last second to glide just a few feet off the ground, rather than fear. He flies and perches on various treetops and swoops again, all to the whooping and cheering of Shane from down bellow.

"Hey Ryan! Look what I brought!" He shouted, and Ryan glides down to a lower branch to give the not-so-tall looking man a questioning glance, the man was smirking with mischief, holding out a hand to wiggle a bright camping lantern in his direction, "Since you're Mothman, d'you feel anything for this here light?"

Ryan was about to adjust his grip on the branch to only using a certain finger on both hands when suddenly Shane yelps and starts to do a twitchy dance with his upper body. For a second Ryan panics, but he was just close enough for his enhanced night vision to see that the strange behavior is, in fact, not caused by a demon possessing his friend.

"Oh, fuck is that a wasp?" Ryan bursts out laughing at the way Shane's face contorts a little at the tiny insect buzzing uncomfortably close to his face and did not feel sorry at all for his friend. Nope. Ryan was almost squealing in delight as Shane batted at the wasp as best he could, flapping his long arms around with a panicked look on his face.

"See what you get? This is what you get! Yes! Take that for--" Its a shame that his victory speech is cut short when a wasp materializes right in front of his own face, sending him tumbling backward off the branch with a high pitched screech.

A part of his brain thinks that if people heard what he had just uttered, there are going to be reports of the first Mothman sighting in Los Angelas.

For some life-fucking reason, the wasp--actually three of them now-- tormenting Shane decide to refocus their attention on the flying creature instead of the sasquatch. They obviously haven’t taken physics or learned about surface area.

Ryan threads his way through the trees with much less of his previous flare and joy, flying for his life as the few wasps quickly grow to a swarm, despite a small voice in his head encouraging him to stop, to take a stand. What the fuck did he ever do to them?? It's not like he kicked their nest or something. Frustration and exhaustion combining is never a good look on Ryan, and after what he estimates is four minutes of high-speed air chase, he dives to the ground. Landing softly, he lets instincts take over, whirling around to let out a snarl at the swarm that races for him, wings arched at his back and shaking slightly to make rustling sounds.

The wasp swarm halts before him with a jerk.

Ryan's teeth are bared, which is kind of dumb, cause he doesn't have fangs so that image must not be very scary to anyone. But the wasps hover before him, their formation shifting uncertainly, and Ryan can see the detail on each and every buzzing insect with crystal clarity. A deadly calm washes over him.

"Heel." He growls, and his own voice startles himself. With all the macho, gangster bits they've done on Unsolved, he has never heard his voice go this low and guttural. Ryan blinks, and the heavy blanket of calm is gone.

The wasps hold still, their formation now in a fixed sphere as they buzzed quietly. Respectfully, a part of Ryan's mind supplies, they serve him now. What the hell just happened?

A crackle of a boot on dry leaves has Ryan whipping his head around to see Shane approaching him with a flashlight and bear mace in perfect Harries position, concern and something like dread tightening his face. "Ryan come here, get away from the wasps."

"They're not a threat anymore Shane," he said, tone stiff and tired. "They obey me now." The taller man looks doubtful but after a few flashes of light at the swarm produced no change in the wasps' motion, he slowly lowered the mace can.

"I-I didn't know what to do so I just grabbed this," he said, lifting the mace a bit and then letting his arms drop back to his side. "Ryan are you okay? Your hands are shaking."

"What?" Ryan says absently, and there are tremors running through his hands. He clenches them into fists and tucks them into his hoodie pocket. A flick of his head at the swarm has them dispersing, buzzing back to wherever the hell they popped out from. "We're losing light, we should set up the tent," he says as he turns to walk back to where they had dropped their bags.

Shane stands his ground and reaches out a hand to catch the smaller man's shoulder when Ryan tries to walk past him, and his eyes widen slightly as Ryan's wings bristle at the contact, but his grip is firm. "If there's something wrong, Ry, anything at all that feels off about this whole Mothman thing, you'd tell me, right?"

"Yeah. I'm fine, big guy." Ryan offers the taller man a small smile, though it might have wavered a little. He can tell that his friend would have liked answers to a great many questions about how he felt, about the mad chase and about that final showdown, but the man didn't push. He trusts Ryan to reach out if he needed it.

The problem is, Ryan has never been that good with emotions.

But at the moment he feels... okay. The excitement of the ordeal seems to have canceled out his energy. So he smiles some more, "I promise." At Shane's not at all satisfied expression, he nudges the taller man with the tip of a dark wing, "Come on, help me light a fire. I'm dying for some smores."

And so they did.

#fanfiction #inspired by awesome art #I love Mothman!Ryan so much #alex writes #Ghoul friends

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queen-scribbles · 5 years

Text

Surprise

For @pillarspromptsweekly fill 76: Reunite. Once I decided to bring back Kana, Emiri got a lot more insistent I use her. wonder why And, I mean, it’s only fair since Adi and Tavi were both in last week’s fill, right?

Emiri didn’t like boats, and she had twenty years of reasons why. Usually when they were sailing, she liked to stay in her cabin--or track down Aloth to sit with him--and read, try to forget they were on the water. Some days, however, she made exceptions. Today was one of them.

She sat on the Mercy’s deck, wind ruffling her hair as Crookspur Isle grew smaller behind them, trying to remember the best--least painful--way to break the manacles around her newest crew member’s wrists.

“You couldn’t wait ten seconds to get the key before smashing the bastard’s head in, ‘Miri?” Edér asked, amusement in his tone. He took a lazy draw on his pipe and exhaled a cloud of smoke toward the clear blue sky.

“No, I couldn’t.” Emiri brandished the chisel at him reprovingly. “You know how I feel about blazing slavers. Now be a dear and stop distracting me so I don’t gouge open Eliam’s wrist instead of the metal.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Edér winked. “I’ll be quiet.”

“Will wonders never cease,” Maia deadpanned from across the deck.

“I heard that,” Edér complained good-naturedly.

Emiri huffed a sigh out through her nose and pointed the chisel at each of them in turn. “This is hard enough to do on a moving ship, no matter how good the helmsman or calm the sea. If the chatter doesn’t stop, I’m going to banish everyone but Kuldrun below deck until I finish.”

“Sorry,” Edér and Maia said in unison before falling silent.

“Thank you,” Emiri said, turning back to Eliam. “You get used to this, I promise.”

He just nodded solemnly, expression obscured by the growths that covered his face.

Emiri bit her lip in concentration and devoted her focus entirely to breaking off the manacles without hurting him more than she had to. Eliam was very good at holding still, and it was only a handful of minutes before his chains clattered to the deck.

“Alright, you’re free to harangue or tease one another again,” she said with a laugh as she stood. She offered Eliam a hand up. “You can go talk to Beodul about fresh clothes and some food before we figure out your duties.”

Eliam stooped to gather the broken manacles before inclining his head respectfully to her. “As you say, Captain.” He threw the manacles overboard as he headed below deck in search of the boatswain.

Emiri was stretching and rubbing the crick out of her neck when she saw the ship on the horizon. It didn’t look threatening; just a typical merchant’s ship. But she was in no mood for surprises, especially not of the Aha, it’s pirates! variety. She crossed to the rail and leaned out far as she dared, squinted for a better look.

“Miri? Whaddya see?” There was a quiet scrape as Edér pushed off the crate serving as his seat to join her.

“Just a ship,” Emiri said, feeling almost silly for what she was about to say. “But there’s something... I dunno, odd?” She gestured helplessly. “I don’t even know if it’s something bad or not. Just... It’s making something deep down in my soul squeeze, just a little.” The feeling was almost familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it, which was just irritating.

“Well, shit, Mir, that’s the sort of thing we usually check out,” Edér said dryly. “Should we get closer?”

She hemmed and hawed for a minute, but finally listened to the pang in her chest. “Yes. Let’s see what’s making me feel weird. Kuldrun!”

“Aye?” the helmsman called back.

“Get us closer!” Emiri pointed to the ship. “I have a... feeling about that ship I want to investigate.”

There was only the barest hesitation before Kuldrun replied,” Aye, Captain!” and the Mercy’s course drifted closer to the mystery ship.

Emiri let out a sharp bark of laughter when she saw the ship’s name. The Surprise didn’t appear to be a threat--though she had been ironically christened. As they drew closer still, Emiri could see the captain standing by the helmsman, his posture clearly tense as this unexpected encounter.

The Surprise was surprised, Emiri giggled to herself as she took a deep breath to hail the man, hopefully assuage his fears.

Her words went flying out of her head, lost to the circling gulls, when she caught sight of a familiar figure, missed beyond words for five long years, leaning against the ship’s rail. “Kana?!” she blurted instead.

There was a jolting scrape and quiet but feeling oath behind her, followed by Maia all but crashing into the rail.

For his part, when they got close enough to see, Kana was grinning ear to ear as he waved to her. “Ah, Emiri! I knew those rumors couldn’t be true! I would take more than a statue to kill you, no matter how large it might be!”

Emiri laughed, hands clasped to her chest. Now I remember... She’d felt that tug in her chest before, as she approached the Engwithan digsite with Edér and Xoti in tow. It was the tug of her soul in close proximity of someone near and dear to her heart, only slightly less with Kana than it had been for Aloth. “What are you doing out here?” she called, grinning as she motioned for Kuldrun to move them yet closer.

“Exploring, of course!” Kana boomed, his grin stretching even wider when he saw Maia. “Ah, Sister! Good to see you looking well!” He doffed his cap and winked before turning back to Emiri. “Did you know, Emiri, that there are islands out her that have gone untouched by kith for decades, centuries even? Who knows what treasures of knowledge lie waiting to to be discovered?”

Maia chuckled. “You never change, do you?”

“Only for the better, I hope!” Kana replied, still grinning, then turned to confer with the captain. “We can drop anchor if you’ve the time to come aboard and have this conversation face to face, Emiri!” he called across once finished.

Emiri grinned, certain if she still had her halo it would be glowing fit to beat the sun. “For you? Always!” She scampered up to the poop deck and relayed the plan to Kuldrun(”I heard, Captain”). When she returned to the main deck, Edér was smirking at her, a knowing look in his eye. “What?”

“Always, ‘Miri?” He knocked his pipe out over the rail. “Do you still-”

“Hss!” Emiri shushed him, darting a quick glance at Maia.

Maia chuckled and held out her arm for Ishi as the hawk fluttered over. “Relax, Captain. You’re not nearly subtle enough for that to still be a secret. Don’t worry, I’m not plannin’ on saying anything.”

“Thank you.” Emiri picked nervously at one of her bracelets. “It’s not really worth mentioning, and honestly would be kind of unfair to drop on him now.”

“Right,” Maia and Edér drawled in unison, as the ship’s drew close enough to extend a gangplank between them.

“Either of you want to come?” Emiri asked, running her hands down her braids to check for frizzies and flyaways. She wished she was wearing something other than her battered leathers, but there wasn’t anything to be done about that. It doesn’t matter, he won’t care.

“Sure, why not?” Maia shrugged. She held out her arm. “Ishi, you better stay here. You two aren’t on particularly good terms.” Ishi squawked and flapped over to the crate Edér had been sitting on.

“Would be nice to see Kana,” Edér said. He tucked his in his belt. “After you, ‘Miri.”

Emiri grinned and mounted the gangplank. She crossed with only the fainest twinge of trepidation at the water below. When she reached the Surprise, Kana helped her down and then greeted her with a bear hug so fierce he lifted her feet a couple inches off the deck.

“Oh, it’s good to see you, my friend!” he effused as he set her down, before greeting Edér and Maia with the same enthusiasm.

Edér grunted as something popped in his spine and then grinned. “Hey, that’s been buggin’ me for days. Thanks!”

Kana chuckled(something in Emiri twisted at the sound; Usher’s scythe she’d missed his laugh). “Glad to be a help, my friend. So, tell me, what are you doing here?”

“Most recently? Clearly out Crookspur,” Emiri said with grim satisfaction, even as one hand rubbed self-consciously at a blood stain on her armor. “Aside from that? Chasing a god.” She and Edér filled him in on what had happened-- the real version, uninfluenced by rumor or hearsay.

“I see even if you survived the ordeal it did leave its mark,” he commented.

Emiri instinctively reached for where her halo had joined the base of her skull as she nodded. “It’s a small price to pay for surviving, but it does feel odd not having it anymore.”

“I imagine so,” Kana said sympathetically.

“Still, it would have been worse if not for Edér finding me when he did.” She bumped her shoulder against the farmer’s and smiled. “So I can live without it.”

“Always the optimist,” Kana smiled. He clapped Edér on the back. “It seems all of us who value the Watcher’s friendship owe you a great deal.”

“Eh,” Edér shrugged. “Just lucky I decided to visit then, is all. The wakin’ up she did on her own.”

“Nice as it is to have some background about her that isn’t crew gossip.” Maia piped up. “Is exploring all you’re doing out here, Kana?”

“All I’m doing, yes.” He shot her a knowing smile. “But there are others, from the lore college, aboard with other business.”

“Oh, so you probably need to keep moving, to stay on track with the itinerary?” Emiri tried not to sigh in disappointment and caught the knowing look in Edér eye.

Kana raised an eyebrow even as he smiled. “Actually, our next few stops are more diplomatic than exploratory in nature; the lore college trying to shore up existing relationships. They don’t need me. My plan was to simply wander, take in the local cultures, but if you have need of me, I’m certain they could spare me for a month or two. Indeed, they’d probably be grateful for one less mouth to feed.”

“Especially with the way you eat,” Maia muttered under her breath, the corners of her mouth twitching in a smile.

She didn’t technically need him. Emiri knew that. Konstanten was a talented chanter, and Tekéhu knew some basics. From that standpoint, she was well covered. But gods, did she want him along, even if she didn’t need him, even if just for a little.

Edér caught her eye as she hemmed and hawed and winked, giving a minute nod. It was the most subtle she’d ever seen the man be, it would be a shame to let that go to waste.

“I’d love to have you join us,” she said, fingers picking at her bracelets again. “So long as you and Maia are alright traveling together?”

Maia sighed in mock dismay. “I suppose I can endure it for a couple months.”

Kana chuckled. “As can I, provided she keeps her bird away from me.” Emiri bit back a smile and he groaned dramatically. “Wael’s eyes, she told you.”

“Yep.” Emiri nodded apologetically. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure Ishi stays away from your hats.”

“Then done,” Kana said with a toothy grin. “I’ll speak to Captain Anyani, learn when and where to meet for me to rejoin the Surprise, and get my things.”

It didn’t take him long at all, making Emiri wonder just how enthusiastic he was about joining her(and why. But no, no, that was just her imagination). Barely half an hour after first sighting the Surprise, Emiri was departing it back to her own ship, an extra friend in tow.

“They’ll be Port Maje in two and a half months’ time to resupply.” Kana informed her as they stepped down onto the Mercy. “Until then, I’m all yours.”

“Alright,” Emiri managed, trying and failing to ignore the way her heart squeezed at his word choice. “I’m sure we’ll find something for you to do.”

“Well I know it,” he smiled. “Life never stays boring for long around you.”

“No matter how much I wish it would,” she wryly.

Edér and Maia drifted off to do various things, leaving Emiri with Kana to wave farewell to the Surprise. He turned to smile at her as they got underway, excitement at adventuring together again plain on his face, and her heart skipped a beat.

Maybe boats weren’t entirely awful, she conceded to herself. She still didn’t like them, but they weren’t so bad when they carried pleasant surprises like old friends.

#queens fic #pillars prompts weekly #emiri #kana rua #eder teylecg #maia rua

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timeisacephalopod · 6 years

Text

Charmed

Celebrity AU featuring Bucky/ Tony with a dash of Sam/ Steve. What is this exactly? I’m not sure, but I think it came out ok :)

Bucky sits with his head in his hands and Sam is about five hundred percent tempted to throw a ketchup covered fry at him but Steve was watching so he had to be on good behavior. “I don’t know why I agreed to this...” he mumbles more to himself than Sam or Steve.

Steve gives him a gentle pat on the back because unlike Sam he’s sympathetic to Bucky’s idiocy. “I’m sure your date will be fine,” Steve tells him gently.

“He’s so hot,” Bucky whispers, staring at the ground with wide eyes.

Sam squints, “I fail to see why that’s a bad thing,” he says.

“Because, bird brain, I’m a hot mess,” Bucky says. Sam shrugs, unwilling to argue with the truth even if Steve gives him a look. It wasn’t his fault Bucky was a disaster. Steve, because he’s a better person than Sam, continues to comfort Bucky’s dumb ass and Sam decides to scroll social media because Twitter had to be more interesting than Bucky. Watching paint dry was more interesting than Bucky.

When his date finally shows up Sam just about shits while Steve gives him a disapproving look. Sam quickly drags him off while Bucky starts the most awkward conversation Sam has ever had the misfortune of witnessing because Steve needed to know. “Do you know who that is?” Sam hisses at him.

Steve looks over his shoulder to give Bucky’s date another disapproving look, “someone who’s not good enough for Bucky,” he says and Sam rolls his eyes. If he were insecure he’d worry about Steve and Bucky’s friendship but thankfully Sam had the good sense to know that he was better than Bucky in every single way so clearly Steve wouldn’t downgrade to Bucky.

“No Steve, that’s Tony Stark. You know, recently won an Oscar in that weird Peter Quill movie?” Sam wasn’t much of a Quill fan- his stuff was always weird and convoluted- like Stanley Kubrick on crack and that was saying something. But he happened to like the cast of the movie so he gave it a shot and had been pleasantly surprised.

“Who?” Steve asks, squinting.

Sam rolls his eyes at Steve’s apparent lack of culture. “Howard Stark’s son,” he says and Steve clues in for a half a second before he decides this was a reason to end Bucky’s date before it began. Sam stops him before he can go though because Bucky was a grown ass man and he could make his own decisions.

When Steve stops struggling he frowns, “wait, how do you know that?” he asks.

He shrugs, “I might be a fan,” he says casually. The guy was good and Sam thought his asshole personality was endearing. Steve, however, clearly did not.

Bucky laughs as Tony criticizes the movie they’re watching, poking fun at the director that he seemed to have a lot of knowledge about. “Jeeze, do you have a personal vendetta against the guy?” he asks and Tony makes an offended noise.

“Everyone should have a personal vendetta against Justin Hammer. Did you see what he almost did to Wonder Woman? I would have personally fought him if his shitty script had’ve gotten past whatever moron producer even considered that crazy sack of hair,” he says, shaking his head.

He smiles, “you’re a Wonder Woman fan?” he asks because that was adorable, really.

Tony grins, “anyone with taste is a Wonder Woman fan,” he says. “She’s like every good thing about Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne wrapped up in a way better package,” he says, nose in the air.

“Batman is my favorite character,” Bucky confesses and Tony makes another scandalized noise.

“Heathen,” he accuses.

Bucky is texting Tony, who was on a rant about the score of some movie that was surprisingly hilarious, when Sam comes swaggering up looking like he was about to shit in Bucky’s cereal. “Whatever stupid thing you have planned it isn’t going to ruin my day,” he tells Sam. Their relationship, if one could even call it that, was a strange one for sure but he was certain they both secretly enjoyed their frienemy status. At least so long as Steve wasn’t around to scold Bucky for giving Sam tide pods instead of actual food for dinner. Or removing all his shoelaces from his shoes and throwing them out. Or replacing his black cat with a slightly smaller and meaner black cat.

Point was whatever retaliation Sam had planned for his pranks they weren’t going to get to him today because Tony was great and their date went shockingly well. Usually Bucky messed things up in ten seconds flat, but Tony confessed he usually did the same thing and the result was both of them acting like a bunch of awkward freaks for an hour before they gave up being embarrassed at themselves and went to do something more productive. Like watch movies and make out.

Sam just looks more enthused though and he hands Bucky a picture, “look familiar?” he asks, walking away while he cackles.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get a broom to ride out on, Wilson,” Bucky calls after him, earning a dirty look before Bucky turns his attention to the picture Sam handed him. Bucky squints at it for a moment because that guy looked a lot like Tony, but he was holding an Oscar.

It takes him an embarrassing twenty minutes to put it all together.

All Tony wanted was one normal thing and being a celebrity that was hard. He’s been in the game since he was a kid and the last time he ran into someone that didn’t recognize him on sight when he was looking to be noticed was when he was six. Then there had been Bucky, who ran into him with his charm dialed to eleven and he didn’t even notice and better yet he didn’t seem to have any idea who Tony was.

Maybe it had been too much to ask that he could just skate by without Bucky ever figuring out he was a two time Oscar winner but a guy had hopes and dreams, okay? Plus he thought his rants about Justin Hammer were hilarious and that was the fastest way to his heart, really. But Bucky does figure it out and he looks dumbfounded.

“I can’t believe I’m eating ice cream with someone who’s hung out with Leonardo DiCaprio,” he hisses at Tony.

He sighs, “he’s not that great,” he says. If he had to hang out with a great actor there were at least five people on his list before DiCaprio.

“You have Oscars,” Bucky says.

“And not even for my best performances,” Tony agrees. How the hell Quill’s movie even got to the Oscars he had no idea but Peter was shitting several bricks. Especially when his movie won a stupid amount of them even though it was plotless nonsense. All of his stuff was weird and pointless but people kept giving him money and Tony was good enough friends with him that he took a role to be supportive. He didn’t expect a second Oscar out of it.

“That’s true, that time you played a vampire in that one teen drama-” Bucky starts but Tony cuts him off.

“We don’t talk about that time in my life, I was addicted to cocaine,” he says, only half joking about that.

Bucky seems to take it as a joke anyways and laughs. “I don’t get it though, how are people not recognizing you?” he asks.

Tony sighs, “its not... turned on, I guess is the best way to put it. My charm,” he clarifies. Bucky frowns, obviously not understanding and Tony sighs, “want to see it?” he asks. People were always so surprised when they watched it happen and Tony didn’t have words to explain the transformation.

“Sure,” Bucky says after a moment’s pause.

Tony nods and hands over his glasses, “hold those,” he says and he takes off the hat he was wearing, facing backwards because people didn’t really expect his personal aesthetic to be a cross between fuck boy and hipster styles. It was a deliberate choice on his behalf. He runs his fingers though his hair though, fluffing it a little and he takes a deep breath, channeling that charm he always had on at award shows. It never failed to get the attention of everyone around him and when he opens his eyes he knows Bucky has seen the difference too. Apparently he did notice, just not until he saw it happen.

It takes all of five seconds for someone to walk up, recognizing him on sight and he plays his part well, smiling for anyone who was watching and handing out an autograph. It happens a few more times before he decides he’s had enough of that and he drags Bucky off. “I don’t want to draw a crowd. And trust me, it happens fast,” he says, putting the hat back on his head and taking his glasses back so he could see again.

“That was... weird,” Bucky says. “You were like that when we met, I uh... just didn’t notice until now I guess,” he mumbles.

Tony nods, “you’re the first person I’ve run into who hasn’t recognized me with my charm on since I was a kid. When its off most people don’t notice, but when its on? People swarm,” he says.

“Sounds exhausting,” Bucky says.

He nods, “its is, which is why I liked you. But uh... this is my life and escape is nice but I’ll have to go back eventually,” he says, leaving his unasked question hanging in the air.

“I didn’t know I went on a date with a celebrity, I’m sure I can handle whatever else gets thrown my way,” Bucky says. “And the bonus is that this all happened just in time for Yom Kippur- my family jokes that I always have some ridiculous or outlandish thing that overshadows the holiday and this year its that I’m too dumb to notice I’m dating a famous person. If you want you can come just to witness the chaos- my family is very dramatic and this is bound to be one of the more popular Bucky Ruined Yom Kippur Again stories,” he says.

Tony raises and eyebrow, “what’s the current top contender?” he asks.

Bucky sighs, “that’s probably a tie between the time my grandma told me my depression would go away if I ate better and hung out in the sun so I sort of freaked out and did a lot of yelling about how I still had depression even though I was outside eating a banana and the time my family discovered I’m genuinely terrified of mustard. Yes, I mean the condiment and no, its not funny to chase me around with a mustard hotdog like my asshole sister,” he says.

For a moment Tony looks dumbfounded and then he bursts out laughing, “leave it to me to find someone more dramatic and ridiculous than the movies I star in. But I like you, weird mustard fear and all. And since you know about my celebrity status, want to go to Malibu with me?” he asks.

“If there’s no mustard I’m in,” Bucky says, grinning.

#alternate universe #sam x steve #tony x bucky #my wrting #fanfiction #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #winteriron

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ancientbrit · 3 years

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Natter #11 12/2/2020

Gordon Polson <[email protected]> Wed, Dec 2, 2020, 11:04 PM I am not sure how this will work out as I am not sure what to write anymore. Apparently, the last one must have gone over like a lead balloon and as there are no clinics to draw topics from I tend to write about things I think you might appreciate. It looks like I guessed wrong last time. Right now I am in the midst of editing the old Natters - all the Natters that is that we have been able to recover. Unfortunately, there are some still missing and I think that they are probably permanently gone now. However, there are something over 120 now available with grateful thanks to Tom & Jo, Janet and Carin, who resurrected all those we now have available. It is interesting to read back on them, some I find are likely to still be of interest - at least I hope they will be.This Summer I was positive that my banana palms would produce fruit as they went through last winter with most of their stature intact. This meant that they would be starting their growth from high up with all that potential in their "trunks" which normally indicates fruiting possibility. I kept hoping as the warm weather turned hot but still nothing. Then last week Jean asked me about the weird-looking lump in the middle of the clump. It was only visible from her bedroom window and when I checked, there were the unmistakable rows of bananas preceded by the large oval flower bud with the point on the end, looking something like a large bird's head. At the same time, I realised that my largest Brugmansia., which had bloomed it's head off all summer planted in the garden, was now devoid of all of its leaves, but the buds (all 35 of them) were still hanging on and twenty eight of them are now open and blooming away! Yet another variety, that I was given by the 'Duchess", which is a variegated type with white blooms, had been left outside in its pot last winter, so of course, it was cut down, leaving just dead stubs. Halfway through the summer, I noticed new shoots just emerging from the surface and right now it is almost two feet high. I intend to leave it again all winter just to see if it will make it. The big “Charles Grimaldi” will surely die back as it is more exposed and it is too big to dig and return to the greenhouse where it spent last winter, but at least I have taken cuttings which are ridiculously easy to root One of the more interesting facts which I re-read dating back to 2012 was regarding the word 'sequester'', which I have used without really understanding it's meaning accurately This example involves the production of material from gaseous carbon dioxide. Apparently, a Dutch biologist planted a willow sapling in a pot containing 200lbs of compost and over a five-year period the sapling was only given water - nothing else. At the end of the five-year period, the sapling was removed, cleaned and weighed, topping the scales at 169lbs.The compost was removed from the pot, returned to the same state of dryness it had been originally and then also weighed, coming in at 199lbs 12ozs! Not too difficult to see why trees are planted to soak up atmospheric CO2.

I just had an Email from a seed company back home in Devon, England where my folks lived. I have bought seed from them for the last couple of years and both Lucy and Alison have had plants that I grew from some of that seed. The mail was offering a 20% reduction on all seed orders before the end of December and I thought some of you might be interested. Their inventory is quite large and unusual and they can be accessed at PlantWorldSeeds.com. Bearing in mind the terrific run there was on seed last Spring and knowing how I was unable to buy any of the seed that I wanted, I will be taking my order there very soon. I don't know if the 20% reduction only applies to me as a former customer or not, but if any of you would like to buy and find that the reduction doesn't apply to you, you can always let me know what you want and I can run the order with mine for the reduction benefit. just let me know ASAP so that we can get in under the wire. One of the stimulating things I re-read was regarding the natural enemies of the Brown Marmorated Stink bug. There is a yellow & black spider, three different Praying Mantids with varying novel ways of dealing with them. One chews off their legs to prevent escape and then munches on it like a sandwich. Another injects a fluid that pre-dissolves all that interior pudden and then sucks out all the protein. And talking of protein, the BMSB is apparently more highly nutritious protein-wise than a good steak. I have no idea who first discovered that but I can't imagine biting one whilst holding one's nose. You've got to be desperate.

Over the last several months we have been visited by two beautiful cats - one a long haired tabby - very friendly and the other a gorgeous white long haired creature with slight grey marking around it's head. This cat seems to be caught on the horns of a dilemma as it sits at various spots all round the house , just staring at us, but when you attempt to go near - he moves away. Last Summer he and Pickle had a difference of opinion regarding just whose property this was and I had to step in and break them up before they took off. This hasn't fazed him at all - now he comes right up close and stares through windows where Pickle can see him resulting in some foul language. I also believe that he is rather frustrated as he watches Pickle shove through his cat flap - just above and to one side of my bed, but cannot seem to work out how this works. And so last week, after Pickle came through at around 2:30 am with the usual bang, White cat followed him and hammered four times on the flap and ran off. He has since developed the habit of sitting just the other side of the flap staring in and Pickle is getting a bit paranoid. He hasn't used the flap more than six times in the last few months.

Then just a wee while ago, following a couple of days of strong winds, I was reading in bed around 1am. Pickle was sitting upright alongside me, watching the bedroom door - quite unlike his usual attitude, where he lays across my leg and sleeps. I thought that it was a bit unusual, but was totally surprised when suddenly Big White Fluffy cat casually walked through the door, from the house side. I asked him what he was doing there, but he ignored the question, turning around and disappearing into the dark.

Pickle and I got out of bed and followed BWF cat, turning on all lights as I went, up and downstairs. no sign of him. I noticed that there seemed to be a slight cool breeze coming from my workshop and going in there I noticed that a new service door I had fitted was slightly ajar. I hadn’t yet fitted a lock, but just left a heavy chunk of wood leaning against the door to hold it closed. The strong winds had shifted the block and the door was swinging. I closed and wedged the door tight and fixed the lock next day, but from then BWF cat has never returned. I find small piles of white fur in odd places where he must groom, but no cat! Strange.

I think that I might try to get back into running a PeaPatch at Luther Burbank Park. I have no idea if there are any available right now nor how to find out with the CCMV closed up, but I have to do something. The raised beds that Jill has allowed me to use for some years have now been removed. I was told that she was afraid that I might get dizzy and fall off the edge of the raised ground - a six foot tumble over rocks. But I think it must be that their son has now taken up permanent residence in the house with his fiancee and they want to keep the coast clear. Reasonable.

Anyway, I need to do it as I currently have no place to grow veggies.

Sunday there will be a virtual re-union of those who attended the virtual clinics during the year - BYOB. Rather a neat idea but not to be compared to our bun fights. Another interesting thing that came to light in reading the Natters is that way back in 2013 it was proposed that advanced classes be offered leading to Advanced recognition for those who took it and possibly passed a test. The idea was approved and was to be pursued. 'Have to raise the question as it seems to me that there has always been the threat of MG loss purely because of stasis.Yet another point which should be settled is when existing MGs from outside States move to WA and wish to continue. Many have been turned off & away by being told that they must retake the whole 3 month class again including the $fee. This, I could sort of understand if they came up from Florida say, but two that I know of came from Oregon and how different can Oregonian plants be to WA? Can we afford to be so profligate with trained and keen MGs, especially now that we will be missing a whole year of intake and possibly losing quite a few from this year too?

I have recently been in contact with a guy who was at my old school at the same time I was - just a year ahead of me. I have no idea how he found my details as I didn't know him at school, but we have been trading emails back and forth now for some time. His wife died recently so he is obviously now alone and I think this correspondence is good for him, I certainly enjoy it. The strange thing is that he lived no more than 1000 yards away from me and from photographs that he has sent I know the masters and most of the swim team he was part of - just not him. We seem to share a huge number of things in common. He also attended the same middle school that I did - well he had to, there was nothing else around. I had to remind him of the various staff names and subjects as he couldn't remember a single one. In biology, he sat next to one of my best friends - Dave Bellamy. His interests are similar. He and his wife worked in the States for years. They had Siamese cats too He is interested in cars and he is rather lucky at the moment as his two daughters have taken charge of a sports car that he built and ran for years and are having it restored - just needing the glass replaced now and some final tuning work done on the engine. I was to have seen him when I was back home two years ago until my busted ribs and having to look after my sister intervened. Bedtime calls right now, but I am ashamed that I haven't maintained a more regular correspondence with you as I have in the past. I will try a little harder in 2021 - perhaps there will be more happening then - I certainly hope so.

Your fearless leader,Gordon

PS Don't forget - those whose CE levels are a wee bit below par. Don't leave it to the last minute. Talk to me.

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niallssecret · 6 years

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•Logistics Pt. 1•

A/N: I made this banner so that it’s less bulky on your dash when I post a new one, I hope yall like it :) My official posting days for this one are Fridays and Sundays. Enjoy, and tell me what you think! :) also this is the least sexy title i know but it’ll make more sense tommorow I swear lol

Five Days. That’s all it’s been, not even an entire week, and in that time Jasmine has discovered an entirely new kind of sexually frustration. Part of her feel like she should be embarrassed. After all it hasn’t been that long since she and Niall had had sex. If anything they’d been having more and it was amazing. It was always good with Niall. He was just as attentive to her as he always is, it was passionate and sweet. But a girl has her needs. Very specific needs.

She needed a fuck. Just one really good rough fuck.Nialls’ specially on normal days, but he’d been holding out on her recently and she was not happy about it. In fact she was down right pouty, but she didn’t care. She’d earned the right to be. How could he expect any-less, after spoiling her for so long to just quit cold turkey. It just wasn’t realistic. But Jasmine decided that she do something about it, whatever it was. Tonight.

It was another one of their movie nights. The two of them were snuggled up under a blanket together on the couch. Niall squished between the couch and Jasmine’s back with his hands comfortably around her waist. He planted a few kisses to her shoulder every now and then, but he his attention stayed on the screen. Unacceptable. One thing she knows and loves about Niall is how easy it is for her to get him going. And tonight she planned on taking full advantage of it.

Niall placed one more soft peck in the crook of her neck. She figured now was the perfect opportunity, so she ever so slightly shifted her position on the couch. Conveniently, grinding her hips against him. She felt him tense behind her, as he clears his throat, clearly caught off guard but that’s it. Come on Horan.

She does it again, this time disguising it as rearranging the blanket draped over them. This time she gets a little moan and a tighter grip on her hips. A small victory but, not exactly what she wanted. She does it one last time, with a much more purposely swivel in her hips into him. His grip on her waists gets a little fighter tighter as he puts some space between them.

“Jasmine.” For some reason he’s whispering in her ear as if they were really at a theater. His voice is deeper than usual, and with that tone that Jasmine’s been craving for the last few days.

She turns her had looking at him over her shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?” He used that tone again, and Jasmine tries her best to keep her face neutral.

“Nothing.”

She waits a few minutes before pushing back on him one more time. As quick as she started, he was tapping on her hip, signaling her to shift over.

“I'll be right back.” He gets up, makes a move for the kitchen without even a look back a Jasmine, whose annoyed sexual fruition has morphed into slightly ticked off.

She’s never been the one to initiate sex. Truthfully, it was just that she didn’t have the confidence for it. And while Niall made her feel like the most beautiful women in the world every day, something was always holding her back. Figures the one time she tries to start anything she’s shot down. So yeah, her pride is a little hurt.

He comes back in with a beer for him, and another soda for her. It was a sweet gesture, sure, and she accepts it. She snatches out of his hands and makes a point to open the can as obnoxiously as possible. Jasmines settled herself into one side of the couch, claiming the blanket for herself. Niall without without batting an eye settles himself into the other arm of the couch, shifting around making himself comfortable. Jasmine pull her gaze away from the movie for moment, to look at Niall, who seems perfectly content. Eyes glued to the screen happily sipping his Heineken. Really?

Just as she’s preparing to go into full tantrum mode, he reaches over, tugging on her ankle motioning for her to come closer. For a second she thought about ignoring him, like he’d done her the whole night. But there hasn’t been a single time she’d denied Niall and should couldn’t start now. No matter how mad she was, he really was the the best body pillow. So she maneuvers her way to his side of the couch, laying her head in his lap. She takes an over dramatic sigh, and goes back to pretending to watch the movie. After a few minutes of Niall drawing patterns up and down her arms, sets his beer down on the table next him and looks down at Jasmine.

“Is something wrong?”

“ ‘m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

He rolls his eyes a little with the fondest smile on his face, and he knows it's only a matter of time before she finally cracks. She’s going to burst into a tiny fit of anger that, on Jasmine can only be described as endearing. He silently counts down from one hundred, but he only makes it to about eighty-four when she sits up, throwing the blanket off of her and facing him.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Avoiding you?” When he asks he’s not playing her game anymore, he’s genuine confused. He was doing the opposite, if anything he was afraid she was going to ask him to stop hovering, he’d been attached to her so much over the last week.

“Well not me, but. When we have sex, your not. We don't do the fun stuff anymore.” She was trying to find a way to say it without using the words from the wiki page he’d showed her. One because the words still felt weird coming from her mouth, but also because she didn’t really know what it all meant. She didn’t want to say one thing when she meant the other, so she described it the best she could.

“Fun stuff?”

He was doing that thing that Jasmine hates and it only makes her more angry. Well Jasmine angry, which really just reads as a mildly annoyed school teacher.

“Niall…”

His smirk fades when he looks at her face and sees something that looks like hurt behind her eyes.

“I’m not, avoiding, you Jazzie. I’m just giving us a - cooling off period.”

Jasmine raises her eyebrows waiting for him to further explain himself.

“There was a lot of information thrown at you last week.” Five days ago actually. “I wanted to give you time to process it everything.”

“I’ve processed Niall. It’s been processed for…going on five days now.”

“Jasmine.”

“I told you to teach me Niall. Which would imply you not completely stop what you’ve been doing.” Her tone shocks her. Its full of authority and confidence, it’s only comes out at important times. Level 10 Sexual Frustration must be one of those.

“I know that Jazz.”

“Then why have you been acting weird.”

He turns his body to her, taking both of her hands in his, trying to get her to calm down.

“Because, if we’re going to do this. If what we talked about last week is what you really want then there needs to be some rules.”

“Excuse me?” She moves to pull her hands away from his but he keeps them in his grasp.

Niall loves this side of Jasmine. The confident ‘take no prisoners Jasmine’. It’s a side he doesn’t see enough, but sassy Jasmine is also impatient and impulsive. And this was not a time in which either of those things would be helpful.

He pinches the bridge of his nose letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Jesus. Not rules. But - guidelines.” Jasmine still wasn’t impressed at the prospect. She liked Niall telling her what to do. But only when they are - having fun.

“For the both of us.”

“What kind of guidelines?”

“To makes sure that I don’t go over the line with you. So far I’ve been winging it, and luckily everything has been fine.” He her in the eye with an almost questioning look in his eyes, and Jasmine gave him a shy nod back.

“But if you want me to ‘teach you’ - then we can’t do that anymore. I need to know exactly what is and isn’t okay with you.”

“Fair enough.” Listening to him explain it all a little bit, she feels a little bad about her tantrum. He was just looking out for her, like always. She may not like it always or understand it immediately but she knows he has her best interest at heart. And especially with this.

“And that goes both ways Jazzie. It’s important that we are on the same page with this. The whole time.”

She gives him another shy nod, but Niall raises his eyebrows waiting for more.

“Okay.”

He gives her hands a reassuring squeeze, and quick peck to her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“So what are these guidelines.”

“Well for starters, you need to start telling me what's going on in that bratty little brain of yours. I’m not a mind reader Jazz. It’s important I know where your at with everything.” He’s still running his thumb over her knuckles in small circles, trying to keep her focused in the moment rather than stuck in her head.

“And I’ll get better about checking in on you. Because I know how you are, and I know it’s easier for you if I start first.” He states the last part as if asking for confirmation from Jasmine. All he gets is another small nod, but he takes it.

She knows it’s important and she’s working on being better about it. But communication is hardly her strong suite.She’s definitely made progress since being with Niall. He’s such an amazing listener and the least judgmental person she’s ever meet, but there’s still that misplaced guilt every-time she tries to speak up and let her feelings be heard.

“I’m working on it.” Her voice is quite and shy like it was the last time they had a conversation about this.

He gives her hands a light squeeze and flashes her a small smile.

“I know babe, its okay.” Niall shifts around on the couch a bit, his cheeks puffing out as he lets out a breath.

“The other things are just- logistics.”

“Logistics?”

He looks at her for a minute before swiftly getting up and moving towards his bedroom. He comes back seconds later with his laptop.

Goddamnit.

#ttwili #niall smut #niall fluff #boyfriend niall #dom niall #my writing #its short cuz SUPRISE YALL ABOUT TO GET THREE DAYS IN A ROW #ITS A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE

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rawaabeauty · 4 years

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make your face look thinner: 8 beauty Hacks and tricks

I’m very fortunate to possess taken after my dad’s side of the family. I even have his height, fast metabolism, blue eyes, light hair, and sarcastic sense of humor, but if there’s one thing I wish I didn’t inherit from him, it’s my ridiculously round face. I can’t tell you ways many of us pinched my cheeks once I was a touch girl, and while most of the people complain about certain foods getting to their hips, cheese and chocolate always seem to travel straight to my face.

I’m serious.

The good news is that I also inherited my dad’s curiosity and resourcefulness, and while I'll not like that I carry most of my weight in my face, I’ve learned tons of great tips over the years, and today I’m sharing 8 of my best beauty tricks to form your face look thinner.

1. GIVE YOUR HAIR SOME VOLUME In addition to a round face, I used to be also blessed hair that isn’t curly or straight, which features a weird, frizzy kink thereto, and have spent the last 20+ years applying serums and using various hot tools in an attempt to form it as sleek, smooth, and straight as possible. the great news is that I could talk your ear off about the simplest products and techniques to urge humid-resistant straight hair, but because it seems, straight hair Ideally, I attempt to add a touch of a curl to my locks to offer it a touch lift, but on the mornings I don’t have time to fuss about with my curling wand, I confirm to feature a touch Moroccanoil Volumizing Mousse to my roots and blow dry my hair up and faraway from my face with an outsized, round brush. I then tease it at the top and sides and add a touch of hairspray so my hair doesn’t fall through against my head as soon as I walk out the front entrance.

2. concentrate TO YOUR EYEBROWS If you’ve been following my blog for a short time now, you recognize that I'm hooked into my eyebrows. Why? Because thick, angular eyebrows make your face look longer and slimmer, and since I over-plucked my brows for the greater a part of my 20s and early 30s, I spend tons of your time testing out different products and watching YouTube tutorials in an attempt to form my eyebrows look thicker than they are. To date, my list of must-have brow products is the Anastasia Beverley Hills Brow Wiz and therefore the Anastasia Beverly Hills Clear Brow Gel. I also love the Benefit Cosmetics Gimme Brow for days when I’m during a rush!

3. EMBRACE THE CAT EYE I usually reserve the cat-eye search for big nights out because I feel it’s a touch too sexy for college drop-offs and pick-ups, but I recently discovered this makeup. And if you think that about it, it is sensible. By drawing attention to the corner of your eyes, you’re giving the illusion that your face is triangular, which makes it look leaner.

The eyeliner may be a bit heavy on behalf of me, but I love the general look and merchandise recommendations. And if you’re trying to find a reasonable eyeshadow palette that's adequately subtle for every day, inspect the Naked2 Basics Eyeshadow Makeup Palette. I like mine!

4. find out how TO CONTOUR AND HIGHLIGHT A little bronzer and highlighter can go an extended WAY in defining your cheekbones, jawline, and nose. It takes a touch a little bit of practice, but with the proper products and brushes, you'll transform your face during a matter of minutes.

I recently splurged on Benefit Cosmetics Hoola, which I like because it's far more natural than the pharmacy products I wont to use, except for me, it had been more about having the proper brushes and learning the right techniques. I swear by my NARS Ita Kabuki Brush No. 21, and Jaclyn Hill breaks down everything you would like to understand within the tutorial above.

5. choose DARKER HAIR COLORS After strategically hiding my grey hair without permanent hair coloring for a couple of years, I finally took the plunge and got highlights, and it's made such a difference in my face shape. As my stylist explained to me, lighter hair tends to form your face look wider, and while my complexion doesn’t lend itself to brown or black hair, strategically placing low lights throughout my locks has given the illusion that my face is thinner than it is. confirm to ask your stylist about this trend next time you enter for a cut and color – you'll be amazed at what a difference the right color can make!

6. GROW OUT YOUR BANGS About a year before I got pregnant with my daughter, I decided to chop short, blunt bangs, and it had been perhaps one among the worst decisions I’ve made in my adult life. It added an honest 20 minutes to my morning routine, I used to be constantly going for hair trims, and together of my coworkers nicely-acknowledged once I got pregnant, it made my face look wider, especially while they were growing out. the great news is that long, face-framing layers have the other effect, especially once they fall below your chin.

7. WEAR LONG, DANGLY JEWELRY I recently started fooling around with accessories, and thru tons of trial and error, I’ve learned that long earrings can go an extended way in making your face look thinner because they draw your eyes downwards. Long necklaces also can make a difference as they create your neck look longer and slimmer. Who knew?!

8. DRAW ATTENTION TO YOUR EYES My final tip for creating a round face look slimmer is to spend touch overtime on your eye makeup. The more your eyes pop, the more attention they’ll get, leaving your admirers less time to note the imperfections of your face. So grab that eyeliner and mascara, and practice your cat-eye techniques because your diligence can pay off!

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scribblles · 7 years

Text

Day 2: Promise

IH Week

Word count: 1573

Rating: G

As gentle fingers ran through his hair, sending pleasant tingles through his scalp, Ichigo closed his eyes and took in a long, deep breath. The river was rushing at full strength below them from the recent rains, the air was dry and pleasant, the wind rustled gently through the top of the wide tree casting shade over them, and his head rested on the soft thighs of his girlfri – he stopped short in his thoughts and the corners of his mouth curved up in a small, satisfied smile. The soft thighs of his fiancé, he mentally corrected with a deep happiness.

They had settled down for a picnic at their favorite large shade tree on the bank of the river. It had been the first time in a long time since they had had time to themselves since announcing their engagement two weeks ago. He thought engagements were between two people, but clearly their family and friends thought otherwise. Having this picnic had been possible only through sneakiness and subterfuge. Which Orihime had been all over, surprisingly. One knew the smothering Bad when even Orihime needed a break from her friends.

Ichigo was fairly certain the play-doh and glitter part of their plot was sheer genius on his fiancé’s part. He smiled again at that word: fiancé. God, he was such a sap.

But, he figured, he was allowed to be a sap on perfect days. Which this was. A Perfect Day.

“Kurosaki-kun?” his fiancé said.

“Hm?” he replied, keeping his eyes closed as her magic fingers continued to run through his hair.

“Are you ready for dessert?”

“Hm…” he said. Dessert sounded good. Especially considering he knew something about it that she didn’t know. But dessert meant that he would have to move, which didn’t sound good.

Her fingers stopped. “Kurosaki-kun?”

He groaned and popped his eyes open. She was staring down at him with a little smile on her face, her eyes sparkling.

“Kurosaki-kun, my legs are falling asleep,” she said and bopped his nose.

Ichigo sighed, knowing that her legs had probably fallen asleep long before this, but she’d just reached her limit. With great effort, he rolled until his head was on her calves. Not as comfortable, but it would do. “How’s this?”

Orihime laughed and shook her head. “Weird!”

He snorted. “Says the Queen of Weird.”

“Too weird,” she decreed through her laughter and bounced her calves up and down until he sat up.

“So cold, Inoue,” he accused, shuddering.

She wrinkled her nose as she continued to smile. “Cold would be eating all the dessert. I do need the energy after losing all the blood flow to my limbs.”

Ichigo dove for the basket and held it to his chest. “Don’t even joke.”

Orihime grinned and settled down next to him. “Are you going to share that, Kurosaki-kun, or say vows to it?”

He eyed her suspiciously as he slowly lowered the basket to the blanket between them. “I’m going to share it.”

Thankfully, Orihime was the only one who ever saw this borderline goofy version of himself. His friends would never let him live it down, but Orihime? She just…brought it out in him with how open and nonjudgmental and silly she was. Instead of teasing him, she just joined in whatever silly stuff popped out of him. He didn’t even really know he had this side until… She just brought out all of him, he supposed.

Ichigo smiled when she shook her head and laughed, and watched her as she opened the basket and carefully set out plates with their dessert. They were delicate little individual lemon tarts with sweeping piles of meringue baked on top. Fairly benign for her, but Orihime’s mentor had ordered her to bake nothing but basic (boring, she called them) recipes to make sure her foundation in baking was solid. Orihime had been busy rushing around planning their getaway and had let Ichigo fill the tarts with lemon curd and put the meringue on top.

Well.

Ichigo, in his infinite wisdom and genius, decided the lemon tarts needed something. And what does every non-chocolate dessert, pastry, and cake need? Why, chocolate of course. So, he snuck chocolate chips into the lemon mixture.

He was quite proud of himself. Chocolate made literally everything taste better. There were even chocolate pizzas, chocolate sauces for steaks, chocolate dipped figs, chocolate – well, anyway, Orihime couldn’t do anything out of the ordinary for the moment, but he could.

And truth be told, he missed her experimental flavors.

He was proud as punch and sure that she would fall all over him in awe of his skills.

As she wiggled out a bit for herself with her fork, she was busy chatting about how she was beginning to like the boring baking as it somehow birthed all kinds of ideas for more unique flavor combinations plus it was honing her skills. So busy with what she was saying, she didn’t examine her creation as she usually did and simply popped it in her mouth.

He was so eager for her reaction, Ichigo hadn’t even tried it yet, just watched her chew, then slow her chewing, then frown, then lift up the tart to examine it, then frown even more deeply until she was downright scowling.

Not…quite the reaction he had been envisioning.

“Ino–”

He was stopped short with a sharp finger pointed upwards, her eyes continuing to examine the tart with scowling scrutiny. Startled, he didn’t know how to react.

Speaking of hidden sides of people. This…was new.

“Kurosaki-kun,” she said softly, and he fought not to visibly shrink back.

“Y-Yeah?”

Her face smoothed into a neutral expression as she slowly, deliberately, lowered the rest of the tart and placed it on the blanket. She brushed non-existent crumbs off her fingers and placed her hands in her lap, her eyes closed.

“I want you to promise me something.”

Ichigo swallowed. “Okay?”

“That you will never.”

She opened her eyes and her gaze pinned him where he was, like a bug.

“Ever.”

He dared to glance at the uneaten tart still in his hand, then quickly back at her.

“…Adjust.”

He winced.

“My baking without my knowledge again.”

Her voice had been soft but stern. He stared at her and fought the urge to gulp.

“Uh…okay.”

She blinked.

“I mean, yes, Inoue, I promise to never ever mess with your baking without you knowing about it again.”

Orihime nodded, satisfied. She gestured at his tart. “You may try it.”

Ichigo jerked, not even aware before that he had been waiting for her permission, but he had and somehow, she had known he had. Tentatively, he stuck his fork in it and put a small piece in his mouth. And wrinkled his nose.

“You see?” she said.

He nodded. Somehow…it wasn’t good. Which was impossible because chocolate always made things better, and yet it was not better it was…off-putting. Un-melted, hard semi-sweet chocolate chips stirred in with the light, creamy, and tangy lemon curd was…not good. Not even the “well, this is strange, but it works” feeling that usually accompanied Orihime’s fare.

Humbly, he placed his tart down on the blanket.

And sat silently as Orihime quietly packed the dessert things away. The dessert that he’d ruined.

When she was done, she looked at him sympathetically. “I know how you are about chocolate, but there are right ways and there are wrong ways of adding chocolate.”

He nodded, the ego-deflated student to the patient, learned teacher.

“Next time I’ll make you a lemon tart with chocolate.” He perked up at that. “You add a thin layer,” she placed her thumb and finger close together, drawing a thin line across the air, “of chocolate and then add the lemon on top. Once I can bake like myself again, I’ll be adding different flavors to the chocolate like orange or raspberry or both.”

He smiled a little at the way she got all dreamy when coming up with stuff.

She shook herself from her baking dreams and moved to pat the ground next to the tree where she’d been sitting earlier.

Ichigo raised his eyebrows.

“Sit, Kurosaki-kun. I’ve decided your punishment.”

He gave her a look, to which she just grinned, and then settled down, resting his back against the tree. Then, in a twirl and a plop and a few wiggles, Orihime was resting her head on his thighs, looking supremely pleased as she flipped her hair out behind her.

“The tables have turned, Kurosaki-kun.”

Ichigo held back a smile and obediently began running his fingers through her long hair. Some punishment.

She closed her eyes and sighed in satisfaction. “And don’t tell me if your legs fall asleep because I warn you now, Kurosaki-kun, I do not care.”

“My legs are at your disposal, Inoue.”

Orihime smiled and serenely laid her hands on her stomach.

Not five minutes later she said, “Kurosaki-kun…”

“Hm?”

“But really, you’ll tell me if your legs fall asleep, right?”

He smiled, something he did a ridiculous amount when around her, and didn’t say a word.

Ichigo had learned of another side to Orihime. People could criticize her food, even gag at it, and she’d role with the punches. But mess with her baking at your own peril.

And somehow, as disgustingly cheesy and cliché as it was, discovering her new side made him love her just a little bit more. . .

#ihweek2017 #ichihime #scribblesfanfics #me take a serious prompt seriously?? ha!#still so rushed and clumsy and running a day behind but it's here #do they seem to OOC?#I feel like orihime would be really touchy about people messing with her kitchen creations #but???#idk #too sleepy can't tell anymore

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texanredrose · 7 years

Text

Family Reunion

I've been stuck like chuck on everything else, so here's just shy of 9k words of weird High Fantasy ridiculousness to try and get out of a rut. Thanks to @dashingicecream for use of her Snow Cubs.

Mornings in the capitol city were a sight to behold: the merchants that crowded the square offering trinkets from every corner of the empire, colorful customers from even more exotic locales examining them, and the royal guard marching through the throng of people with their shining armor catching the rising sun. Although her hood was pulled far over her head to obscure her identity, she could still observe the familiar sights with a fond smile, making her way through the crowd with little fanfare. A travel worn brown cloak, patched leather vest, and dusty trousers didn't make for the most flattering appearance, but the practicality of her ensemble soothed any wounded pride over the looks she got from others, especially given the precious cargo latched onto her back and hidden by the cloak, much like the sword at her hip. Although she doubted anyone would harass her beyond the well meaning observer, she'd rather reach her destination undisturbed; she'd been gone far too long to excuse petty delays.

She pushed her way past a group of elves examining the bow collection of a Valen vendor, stepped around dwarfs weighing the merits of Menagerian metal work, and ducked past a few magicians demonstrating the superiority of Atlesian wants when compared against the Vacuon counterparts. All the while, faded memories of her youth- walking around this exact marketplace, but half as full and filled with exclusively humans and Atlesian merchants- sprang up, causing the small smile on her lips to tug a little wider. Under her sister's guiding hand, Atlas transformed from a cold, brutal nation of bitter invariability to a thriving, colorful country bursting with the flavor of every part of Remnant. Still cold and brutal, especially during the winters, but now filled with a warmth that couldn't be given by hearth or torch.

As she passed the center of the marketplace, her eyes caught on the fountain, water remaining within its bounds thanks to some magic spell or other. Years ago, it depicted a mounted knight using his lance to stab into a dragon's heart, a testament to the valor of humans and a reminder that, though they should be feared, the magically inclined creatures who inhabited the realm could still be killed by mortal men. Conveniently, the fact that the royal family which had ruled over the land for countless generations itself had magic thrumming through their veins- an ancient sort which required no word or wands, just an imposition of will- was left out every warning about magical beasts and the peoples of Remnant who whispered to stones to build their houses and asked trees for bark. Now, though, only the dragon remained, with its wings spread wide and head reared back to spew water instead of flames, a giant werecat stalking between its forelegs while a chimera sat beneath its tail, a myriad of smaller creatures dancing across the water's surface and children of all races seemed to be playing among the beasts. The commission was wonderfully done, the stone somehow shining like scales and rippling like fur as the water touched it, and it made her pace quicken towards the towering castle gates.

They were thrown open, as per usual at this time of day, but curiously absent was the long line of various citizens looking to air a grievance to the crown. At the same time, she didn't see anyone else concerned about the nonexistent gaggle of disgruntled people that seemed to clog the King's Way every other day, all the royal guards standing their post as if nothing was amiss. When she'd nearly reached the gates, she saw one she half remembered as being chatty, almost too much, so she called out to him.

"Is the Queen not taking audience today?"

He blinked, apparently surprised, and shook his head. "No, Traveler; Her Majesty will take audience tomorrow, though, and the taverns will give you a free night's board, courtesy of the Crown, for your inconvenience." His lips lifted in a small smile, gaze darting towards the entrance to the castle labyrinth. "Her Majesty decided to spend the day with family, you see."

"I've come at a good time, then," she replied, reaching up to push back her hood. Now that her blue eyes and white hair weren't hidden, recognition flashed in the guard's eyes before he dropped to one knee. It seemed that, despite the dirt and grime she'd accumulated from her journey, Princess Winter Schnee could still be recognized among her people, if she allowed it.

"Your Highness!" Every guard in the area, now alerted to her presence, immediately dropped to a knee, bowing their heads in reverence. "You must be, uh, weary from your travels- is there anything I can get you?"

"No, Ser Jaune. Just tell me where I can find my sister. Is she in the garden?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Excellent," she said, turning towards her new destination. "Carry on."

Dimly, she registered the clinking of their armor as they got to their feet while her own carried her through the archway, every guard she passed straightening their posture. Once, it might've irked her how lax they stood, the slight slouch in their backs registering as a lack of discipline, but recent years had... softened her, just a bit. Certainly, she'd discovered a well of compassion within herself that was previously frozen over and completely inaccessible until the warmth of her lover thawed it all away. So, rather than a curt reprimand, she merely gave them nods of acknowledgement as she passed, striding between tall hedges and working her way through the labyrinth to the garden's center. Having gone a full year without seeing the younger woman for the first time in her life- without being within the castle's walls, really- almost gave her reason to jog, but she was mindful of the cargo she carried shifting on her back, disturbed by the increase in her pace already.

A few steps away from the last turn, she heard her sister's voice. However, it was not how she'd hoped to hear it.

"Ah! My arm!"

"Weiss?" She took the last corner, fully prepared to draw the sword from her hip, but stopped with her hand on the hilt as she caught sight of the scene playing out before her.

There was her sister, the crowned Queen of Atlas, lying in the grass flat on her back, her left forearm raised in defense as a little grey werecat sank its tiny teeth into the leather bracer she wore, a high whine that would one day become a menacing growl eking out of the feline's mouth. Two more cubs relentlessly attacked the laces of her scuffed black boots, looking like mirrored opposites of one another with their bodies mostly black or white, and the other color cutting a jagged streak over the top of their head and tinting one ear. Yet another, this one white with a broad black stripe running from nose to tail over their belly and back, tried valiantly to wrestle with the young woman's right forearm, using all the strength in their little body to try and muscle the appendage to the ground. It was working, though slowly, even as Weiss' groans of 'agony' increased in volume.

"You wound me, you magnificent beast!" The assailed young woman cried, tossing her head to keep the pure white strands of her offset ponytail from being caught under any of the cubs. "Oh, what will I ever do? How can I ever break free?"

"Dear, you're selling it too hard." Winter followed the sound of the voice, not at all surprised to see the pitch black werecat lounging on the garden grass, ears canted towards the newcomer despite amber eyes never leaving the small white cub currently trapped between her paws. Once, years ago, the very sight of such a creature would send a spike of fear driving deep into her, but that era ended when the former King and Queen of Atlas were dethroned. Now, the werecat, almost pure muscle and easily twice the size of any man, brought comfort and reassurance. Many things would fall before she would dare let anyone harm her mate- or, Winter mentally amended, her cubs- so there was little worry about her sister's well being during her travels. "Also, we have company."

The Queen halted her exaggerated mauling long enough to throw a slight scowl towards the garden's entrance, ready to deal with the intrusion upon her day as swiftly as possible, but stopped the sharp words from escaping once she saw who it was, settling instead for an incredulous gasp. "Winter?"

The weary traveler smiled. "It's good to see you, too, Sister."

Weiss tried to get up but the cubs were reluctant to let their chew toy escape so quickly, sensing the change in their mother's demeanor but unsure what it meant. As a compromise, the elder sister crossed the grass, reaching up the release the clasp on her cloak and letting it fall behind her. Within the walls of her family's castle, she had nothing to fear, and it was a relief to be free of the light burden. Her approach caused the cubs to abandon their tasks, ears perking at the unfamiliar gait of a stranger before seeking shelter behind the Queen and peeking their heads out, eyes of blue and amber watching with great interest.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't return," her sister said, sitting up and gently picking up the all grey cub, which was about the same size as an adult housecat, except with much bigger paws. The cub tried to turn away at first, the fur along their neck rising up as Weiss situated them in her lap, but slowly calmed down, giving their siblings courage to slowly come out from behind the Queen. "Were you able to find Yang? Is she alright? I would've expected her to be with you-"

"She's fine." Winter chuckled, kneeling down and offering a hand out with a limp wrist, waiting for the cubs to approach on their own. "She's enjoying herself right now; she'll join us soon, I'm sure."

"She's been grounded for quite a while, hasn't she?" Blake, apparently satisfied with her grooming of yet another cub, this one with snow white fur, and lumbered to her paws, the werecat's belly still heavy with milk for her cubs. Yet, she looked every bit the deadly predator Winter remembered from before she left, feline grace hardly impacted by the birth of her first litter. She made her way towards them, following the eager little cub racing to join their siblings. Even from a distance, Winter could see that the white one was the runt of the litter, the others several pounds heavier, but that didn't seem to deter them as they immediately clambered up the side of Weiss' thigh, much less afraid of the newcomer than the rest of the cubs. Or, perhaps, they just didn't have a reason to fear anyone bigger than them, seeing as everyone was bigger than them.

"Yes. It's been... an eventful year. For all of us, it seems." She hedged, watching as one of the two toned cubs made their way closer inch by inch. "But catching up on little details can wait. Introductions are in order, no?"

"Of course, of course. Where are my manners?" Weiss laughed, a clear and bright sound that only recently became known to the occupants of the castle. Last year, with the addition of the werecat's presence to the court, the Queen began to smile and laugh far more than her elder sister could ever recall, a welcomed respite from her taxing duties. It seemed her year spent away hadn't dampened the woman's spirits, though perhaps that was more a result of the cubs surrounding than a constant state of being. "Cubs, this is your aunt, Princess Winter, Steward of Atlas and my chief adviser." A sly smile appeared on her sister's lips. "But you can call her Aunt Winny."

A small frown touched her lips. "Don't ever call me that."

"Why not? It suits you." Blake offered, flopping down behind the Queen with a groan, tail curling just enough to indicate both her pleasant mood and her exhaustion. Luckily, Winter understood, even if she couldn't sympathize, and decided to let the teasing pass for the time being.

"And who do we have here?" Her smile stretched wide as the largest of the cubs finally left the Queen's lap to sniff curiously at the elder Schnee's hand, the rest of the littler following swiftly.

"This brave little explorer is Grace." Weiss touched a finger between the grey cub's ears, causing both to flick as blue eyes rolled up, trying to find the source of the contact. A little scratch of her nail seemed to placate the cub, enough for Winter to reach forward and run a finger down her niece's face, between the eyes and down to the nose. It seemed to work well enough with dragons, she figured the gesture might be something familiar to weres as well, and if the little flick of Grace's ears were any indication, she was correct. "And this adorable little troublemaker is Licht." The mostly black cub turned at the sound of his name, playfully avoiding his mother's touch but unable to predict the dual assault, though he seemed to lean into the elder Schnee's hand. His heterochromatic eyes focused on the tips of her fingers when she pulled away, swatting a little paw at her in retaliation for thwarting his game. "And this handsome little gentleman is Lumi." The cub's mirrored twin, with the black streak over his eyes- curiously enough, also heterochromatic with one blue and the other amber, though opposite which eye bore which color in comparison to Licht- stayed perfectly still, allowing himself to be pet patiently. The moment the introduction finished, though, he quickly set about 'stalking' the bit of string tying his aunt's boot. "And this energetic little heartbreaker is Noire." The black striped cub tilted her head, rolling onto her back the moment Winter reached forward, paws flailing in the air for a moment before allowing the touch, amber eyes shutting briefly. "And, finally, we have our sweet little angel, Harmony."

The pure white cub, apparently done waiting her turn, sprang forward and immediately clamped her jaws around Winter's finger, tiny fangs pressing into her skin and nearing the verge of discomfort. Winter raised a brow, amused by the cub's gnawing and the slow drooping of her ears and tail, but her attention slid to her sister at the gentle clearing of a throat. "Hmmm?"

"Play along." Weiss' expression pinched slightly, her tone low as she spoke behind her hand. "It helps build their confidence."

"Oh." Nodding, the elder of the duo paused to consider for a moment before putting her unoccupied hand to her forehead and cringing. "Oh, woe is me! The pain is almost too much to bear!"

Although Harmony seemed to appreciate her flair, ears perking up as she renewed her vigorous assault, Weiss immediately shot Blake a flat look. "And I was overselling it?"

"She's not my mate and she's not their mother; she's allowed to exaggerate," the werecat replied with a grin, crossing her paws and resting her chin atop them. "Besides, she's dug her own grave; now she'll have to top that each time their bites get stronger or they won't leave her alone."

Harmony, growing bored with gnawing on the offered digit, released her to go play with her siblings, all of whom seemed to be quite engrossed in a game of trying to catch Grace's tail. The little grey cub, however, had a clever mind, running towards her Mommy's hindquarters so Blake could take over being the bait, the cubs apparently deciding that catching the larger prey would be easier, especially since Grace could help them. Entertained as they were, Winter decided it was time to broach the bit of news she carried, though she hoped to transition to the topic gently.

"They're lovely. I'm sorry I missed their birth, and your wedding. It wasn't our intention, I assure you."

"Actually... about that." Weiss suddenly looked a good deal chagrined, shuffling so she could lean back against her lover, one hand absently finding its way into midnight black fur while the other remained on her lap, easily accessible if any of the little ones desired some attention. "We postponed the wedding. I really wanted you to be there for it... and then this happened, erm, unexpectedly." Winter's brows raised, genuinely surprised. "I suppose my aura's a bit more powerful than I thought."

"That's something the two of you have in common," Blake said, cracking one amber eye open and wiggling her nose. That was one of the things she could appreciate about the werecat's sense of tact: she always managed to find a means to convey her intent without using words. "But, I agreed with Weiss; it wouldn't feel right having the ceremony without you and Yang here with us. Getting pregnant was... a surprising side effect of waiting."

Unable to help it, the elder Schnee laughed, though she opted not to comment that perhaps they should've 'waited' on a few more things. It would be a tad hypocritical. "Too bad we exiled Mother and Father. I'm sure they'd have an absolute fit giving both of us lectures on the legitimacy of childbirth out of wedlock."

Immediately, Weiss rolled her eyes and huffed. "Ugh, don't think it hasn't crossed my mind, and the nobles- wait." Her sister stopped, furrowing her brows. "Both of us?"

"Yes." She turned her head, speaking softly. The whole while the cubs were being introduced, she could feel the nervously energy radiating from her precious cargo, but the lack of a volatile reaction assured her that everything would be fine. At the very least, none of the cubs were quite of the strength or size to pose a significant threat, should things start to go awry. "Zephyr? Come out, Sweetheart, and meet your aunts and cousins."

It took a moment, light scratching against her leather vest immediately preceding a stillness. When it stretched nearly to the point she thought something might be wrong, Zephyr gathered her courage and poked her head up and over Winter's shoulder, cool blue eyes darting between all the new faces. She see the nervous twitch in her whiskers and could feel the way her daughter pressed against her back, as if ready to duck down at any moment.

"I can't believe I owe Yang gold for this." The werecat shook her head with a fond smile. "Baby dragons are rather cute."

"Cute- Blake, she's absolutely precious," Weiss said, leaning forward and offering out her hand. "Are we certain she's related to Yang?"

Aside from clearly being a dragon, she could see where the joke might hold a kernel of legitimate curiosity. Pure white scales and a slim build seemed to place Zephyr at the opposite end of the spectrum from the towering, broad shouldered golden dragon, but the Queen of Atlas had the benefit of never seeing one of the little one's tantrums. In those moments, no one could possibly mistake her lineage, when cool blue eyes turned to a deep violet. Already, there was a font of dread welling up in her chest at what the 'terrible twos' would entail, especially for a child with both the Schnees' legendary stubbornness and Yang's temper, nevermind her draconic form, but something told her that no matter how terrible it got, she wouldn't want to be anywhere else. She raised a hand, allowing Zephyr to take refuge in a familiar touch, the small spikes along the top of her head lightly digging into the woman's palm.

"Is this why Yang ran off? To go lay an egg without telling anyone?" The younger woman stilled her hand, waiting for the little dragon adjust to her presence. Zephyr shifted higher on Winter's back, stretching out her neck to lightly bump her nose against the offered digit. She almost immediately retreated, once again hiding behind her mother's shoulder, but the reaction was an expected one. It had taken a full week for her to acclimate to Winter, partly because the little dragon had yet to encounter a creature other than Yang and partly because the woman spent the better part of that week lecturing her lover in a mostly civil tone. Mostly. "I never would've imagined any offspring of Yang's to be this timid. Or yours, for that matter."

"That overgrown lizard's always been the exception, not the rule," Blake said fondly, tilting her head when Lumi and Licht started climbing her shoulder, apparently keen on chewing on her ear. She couldn't make it too easy for them, though her attempts to avoid their nips required hardly any effort on her part, and she appropriately cringed and growled whenever caught. "Dragons are solitary creatures in their youth, too vulnerable without conscious access to their magic and afraid of the world. Until she accepts us as part of her family, she'll be wary."

"How long will that take?" Weiss carefully scooped a hand under Grace, who seemed to be on the losing end of a battle to stay on her paws while enduring a sneezing fit, and deposited the cub in her lap while rubbing her back soothingly, worry pinching her brow. "I don't want her feeling unwelcome-"

"Once Yang arrives, she'll be more confident." She assured her sister, a small smile on her lips as she turned her head to look at her daughter. Despite being a tad overwhelmed by the new sights, sounds, and smells of the castle- and no doubt the entirely foreign presence of Blake and the cubs- Zephyr seemed to be taking the revelations well. She hadn't tried gliding back to where her cloak lay discarded and burrowing into the fabric, at least. "You're doing wonderful, Sweetheart."

The little dragon raised her head again, her wings fluttering in excitement before she curled in, rubbing against the side of Winter's neck to return the affection. The contact was short lived, however, as Zephyr snapped her head up and turned, slitted eyes focused on the castle's southern wall. Blake seemed to notice something, too, as her gaze fixed on some unseen point. She might've been concerned but any worry quickly evaporated when she felt the little claws scrabbling as Zephyr tried to get higher, tail lashing about excitedly.

A moment later, Yang appeared, soaring over the castle walls with ease, her bright scales shimmering with every motion. She passed over them, sending the cubs scurrying for cover between their mothers, while Winter stood, holding out her arm so her daughter could scurry along, wrapping her tail around her mother's forearm for balance while standing up on her back legs and calling out to her Momma overhead. Yang had likely seen them during her pass but she still turned her head, as if her child's calls alone had been her clue to their location, and banked hard to come back towards the garden. There would be just enough space for Yang to land despite her size- from nose to tail, she measured almost as long as the battlements were tall- but neither Blake nor Weiss seemed at all concerned, both doing their best to keep the cubs calm while Winter put a placating hand on Zephyr, stroking along her spine. With a great flap of her wings to ease her landing, the dragon touched down, shaking the ground slightly and pulling tiny mewls from the cubs as they tried to understand what just happened, all the while Zephyr eagerly waiting for Yang to turn around, bending her long neck so her daughter could scramble onto her nose. She dropped the travel packs she'd carried in one clawed paw, disregarding the personal effects entirely to focus on the little one.

"Hey, long time, no see," the dragon said, a cheery note in her voice despite the deep timbre. "What's up?"

Weiss furrowed her brows almost immediately, putting her hands on her hips. "You did not just ask us 'what's up' like you haven't been gone without reason for a full year."

"I had a reason! I just, uh, didn't mention it when I left..." Yang had the decency to look a tad sheepish, despite having received this lecture a few times since last she walked the castle's grounds. "Mainly because I didn't really, well, know why- but, hey, look on the bright side! Now we all know, and we're all back together! That counts for something, right?"

"Let no one ever accuse you of dwelling on the past." Blake offered with a wry grin on her feline features, her laid back attitude doing wonders to set the cubs at ease. One by one, they peeked out, staring in wonder at the golden dragon even as she turned her attention to her own offspring.

"You've been good for Mother, haven't you?" One eye closed as Zephyr made her way up, perching at the top of her Momma's head before chirping out a reply that pulled a laugh from Yang. "Oh, is that right?"

Winter watched with amusement, noting her sister's expression as the dragons continued to growl at each other, speaking in their own tongue.

"Do you ever understand a word of it?" Weiss spoke softly, though there was no doubt Blake overheard them, one of her ears flicking back briefly.

She shook her head. "Never."

Relief suffused her sibling's expression. "I thought it was just me. I swear, I think I can place specific sounds, but it just... makes no sense."

"It'll come with time." Winter straightened her posture. "We're Schnees, Weiss. There's no challenge we can't overcome."

"Through sheer stubbornness." The werecat added, though she seemed more amused with the assertion than exasperated by it.

"Heads up!" Immediately, she looked towards her lover, seeing Zephyr gliding down towards her and bracing herself against the impact. Although it could be unexpected and a tad disorienting, Winter relished the moment her daughter landed against her chest, claws sinking into the leather of her vest to keep hold; she wouldn't be able to do this much longer, according to Yang, who guessed the little dragon would grow to the size of a small dog in about two more months. By then, she should also be able to shift to a human form, too, but thoughts of the future could be put aside for the moment, especially seeing as the golden dragon finally caught sight of the little cubs now making themselves known. "Aw, they're adorable! Guess we're not the only new parents."

Yang lowered her head to the ground, turning so she could watch the cubs with one eye. The five remained apprehensive, Grace inching forward with Harmony not far behind, Licht doing his best growl while Lumi hunched his shoulders beside his brother, and Noire just looking between the two dragons, as if trying to work out how something so small looked almost exactly like something so large. Eventually, Blake took it upon herself to get up, padding over towards her friend with her tail swinging low to the ground, oozing ease and confidence as she stopped beside the dragon's cheek and sat on her haunches.

"Come here, cubs." The werecat looked back towards the little ones, leaning against Yang's jaw. "She's loud and obnoxious, but she won't hurt you."

"Weiss, don't tell me you've turned my best friend against me! I'm shocked, absolutely shocked." The dragon lamented, though a smile played across her reptilian features. "Or maybe you're just cranky. Let me guess- you're stuck like that until they move to solid food, huh?"

"Oh, shut up, you overgrown lizard." Blake lashed out with her tail, smacking against golden scales lightly. "Just wait until the first time you fall asleep somewhere low to the ground in your human form, and they come looking for milk."

Before a crass reply could come, Winter smoothly cut in, her tone light despite the seriousness of her words. "I will gently remind you that Blake likely had an easier time with birthing the cubs than you did laying an egg, Sundrop."

The dragon's eye twitched, lightly puffing air through her nostrils even as the cubs began climbing on their Mommy's back, putting tiny paws on golden scales as they investigated together. All the while, Zephyr remained calm, cuddled into Winter's chest and watching the other little ones curiously. She even let Weiss run a finger along the top of her head, much like her sister had done with the cubs, and gave nothing aside from a brief fluttering of her wings and a flick of her tail in response.

"She's taken a liking to you already," the elder of the two said, a smile on her lips. "You're rather good with children."

"Purely through sheer force of will. The past month has been quite the crash course, honestly." She quickly straightened out her appearance- an old habit that seemed reluctant to die- and checked the straps of her bracers, tugging at the sleeves of her cream colored top before tightening her ponytail. "Thankfully, Blake's a natural. I don't think..." Her expression dropped into one of deep thought before she continued. "I don't think we would've made it individually. At least, I wouldn't have. Raising one would've been a trial, but five at the same time?" She looked over to her mate, the werecat using her snout to push Licht up onto the ridge of Yang's nose, following Grace as she went to investigate the ivory horns arching above the dragon's head, and smiled softly. "I'm lucky to have her in my life. And the cubs, you, even Yang, and now Zephyr- despite everything, our family's growing, and I'm just-" She cut herself off with an unexpected laugh. "I'm just so happy right now."

Winter's lips twitched into a wider smile, pleased to see how much her younger sibling had grown in such a short amount of time. This wasn't the same young woman groomed to be a cold, calculating ruler since they were young; her intrinsic benevolence and strong heart helped her become something so much more. "I am, too. It's been a long road already, and I think things will get harder in coming years, but I'm quite pleased with how everything's turned out thus far."

"In a castle with two dragons, three ill-trained arcane mages, and six werecats, you honestly only think things will get harder?" Weiss laughed, putting a hand to her forehead. "Blake's insisting they learn to hunt like proper werecats and nobles and I have no doubt Yang will want Zephyr to visit the Dragonlands at some point. Our own magic- well, I'm not sure about you, of course, and you've always been more disciplined, but I just learned how to conjure, and now I'm meant to rule?" Rather than become overwhelmed by the enormity of the tasks ahead of them, the Queen squared her shoulders, determination shining in her eyes. "Things will be more difficult in years to come. All that means is that we must work even harder to overcome them and we're perfectly capable of such, especially given our chosen partners."

"You've become quite the optimist." Winter lightly bumped their shoulders together. "I recall a young woman always fretting over the smallest details growing up, trying to be perfect."

Her little sister nodded, chuckling softly. Yet, somehow, when their gazes met, she looked older, more mature, and it suddenly felt less like she was looking at a younger version of herself and more like a glimpse into a future she might've become. "Perfection is overrated. I'll admit being exposed to Ruby certainly helped but I suppose that's only part of it. I'm grown now, I have a family to help raise, and a country to rule. Without a little optimism, I'm quite sure I'd collapse under the weight of it all."

Blake, having had an ear cocked back towards them the whole time and with all the cubs now exploring the expanse of Yang's head to the dragon's delight, padded over and pushed her head beneath the woman's arm, nuzzling into the side of her chest. "Even if you did, I'd pick you up."

"Of course you would, Love," she replied, bending down to press a kiss to the center of the werecat's head, running a hand between her ears soothingly. "However-"

"Uh oh, heads up!"

Curious at the slight anxiousness in Yang's tone, the three of them looked up only for Weiss to be almost immediately assaulted by a flying cub; apparently, Licht thought replicating Zephyr's trick was a good idea, despite having little to no way to control his descent after becoming airborne. By either luck or reflexes honed by her newfound status as a parent, the woman caught her son well enough, but she didn't have much of a chance to chide him for his recklessness before Lumi followed suit, crashing into his mother with significant force and forcing the woman to concern herself with catching rather than lecturing. Then Noire, then Grace, and finally Harmony all jumped as well, and the last seemed to be just too much for Weiss to handle as she lost her balance and landed on the flat of her back, covered in cubs and thoroughly unamused.

"Yang, you've been back five minutes and you're already causing havoc!" A cold glare landed on the sheepish dragon, whose smile did little to temper the ire directed her way.

Winter could only laugh, kneeling to allow a suddenly very interested Zephyr down to the ground while the cubs went about finding their paws again, a little disoriented from their impromptu flight. Harmony almost immediately recovered, bounding towards the little dragon and flicking her tail playfully. Although she seemed less reluctant to retreat than before, Winter noted that her daughter still seemed a bit mystified by the werecats, tucking her wings in to make herself appear less of a threat.

Furrowing her brows, the woman wondered how long it would take for the little ones to acclimate to each other. Although dragons were solitary by nature, Yang was probably the most social of her kind in recorded history, and she'd hoped that Zephyr would take more after the blonde than herself. She didn't want any child of hers growing up accustomed to the sensation of loneliness the way she and Weiss did when they were young.

"Hey, Snowdrift." Her attention switched to the larger dragon, who seemed to read her mind. "Think what you did to introduce yourself to Zeph might work for them?"

"It's... possible?" Truth be told, it was less a conscious decision to 'introduce herself' to the little dragon and more the peak of her frustration with having her own child scurry away in fear, but it seemed to do the trick. Afterwards, Zephyr didn't seem to mind her approaching, and even took to climbing into her lap or onto her back when possible. Their relationship progressed form there but that night by the campfire certainly constituted the beginning. "The least we could do is try. Presuming, of course-"

"Presuming we have some obscure prop readily available?" Weiss raised a brow, actually daring to sound affronted when addressing her elder sister. "Because we're certainly not lacking for motivation. Come, Winter, what do you need us to do?"

"Well... the first thing to do is to get on her level." She laid down on the grass with her arms out to her sides, waiting for her sister to mirror the position before continuing and a little surprised Blake seemed just as interested, pressing herself low to the ground beside her mate.

"Uh, Blakey-"

"I'm full of milk, Yang, not cubs. A little physical exertion is good for me."

For her part, Zephyr perked up, looking between Winter and her extended family as the cubs, unable to understand the instructions themselves, merely copied their Mommy, the five lining up in a neat little row between Blake and Weiss. The little dragon made a few noises, high pitched chirps that sounded excited, and then pressed herself towards the ground, tail behind her and wings spread just the tiniest bit. Yang carefully maneuvered herself her lover and child, her shadow blocking out the sun.

"Now, look at her. Make eye contact and maintain it." Winter contemplated how to describe the next step before settling on the most straight forward method available. "Next, you need to push yourself up to your 'hind legs', curl your fingers like they're claws, and roar."

Predictably, her sister shot her a look that managed to convey her confusion as to how, exactly, the woman arrived at this particular series of actions, but she nodded regardless. After taking a moment to gather herself, Weiss pushed herself up to her knees, did her best impression of a snarling dragon, and growled in a way that strayed closer to the sounds the werecats made than anything a dragon would. Then again, the similarity might've seemed so obvious because Blake managed to execute her own motions almost in sync with her mate, using her tail to keep her balance as she reared up on her hind legs, brought out her claws, and roared loud enough to echo off the castle's walls, ears laying back out of habit. Even the cubs attempted their own mimicry, their tiny growls not nearly as loud as their Mommy's but heartfelt all the same, little paws clawing at the air. When the werecats and Weiss returned to the ground, a few of the cubs stumbling slightly, it was time for the next step.

In answer, Winter, Yang, and Zephyr reared back and replied, with the golden dragon's roar being accompanied by a line of flames arching high over the garden and a tiny burst of blue fire coming from their daughter. Yang's tail and the strength in her limbs allowed her to keep her upper body from coming back down too harshly, and remain in position long enough to deliver her roar, but the little dragon had to flap her wings a few times to do the same, though that hardly mattered. The moment she had her claws back on the ground, Zephyr shot forward, investigating the cubs with vigor now that she seemed to accept them as being 'dragon enough' to safely interact with- at least, that was how the blonde explained it when they were confronted with the result of her first time doing the actions. Whatever the reason, the young werecats seemed entirely too thrilled with their new playmate, sniffing at the little dragon and pushing at her with their paws, only to have a tail or wing tap them from an unexpected angle and send them jumping away, just to come back a few moments later.

Already aware of the impending dangers, Winter quickly pushed herself up to her hands and knees. "Weiss, you should get up."

"Hmmm?" Her sister blinked, entirely distracted by watching the little ones play together, crossing her arms in front of her and resting her chin atop them. "Is something the matter?"

"If you stay down there too long, you're gonna regret it." She could hear the amusement in her lover's voice without seeing the smile curling her lips.

"What on Remnant- oh." Too late, the woman found herself rather suddenly declared sacred land that required defending as an impromptu game of 'king of the hill' began, with Zephyr being the first to clamber onto her back. The cubs swiftly followed, Licht and Lumi working in tandem to displace the dragon while Harmony and Noire relied on their speed to bait the other three into battling each other before acting on their distractions. Grace, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content to leave the others to their game, instead padding over to try sinking her tiny fangs into Winter's sleeve, looking for something a little more solid to test her strength against. "Cubs! Children! I am the Queen of Atlas and your Mother, not a playground!"

"You didn't seem to object when they were crawling all over my face." Yang pointed out.

"Comparatively, that's less of a problem, seeing as you're the size of a house and I'm-"

"Tiny?"

"Petite. I am petite, you roaming fireplace."

"Right, so, tiny."

"Yang, stop giving my mate grief." The werecat gently chided, apparently coming to Weiss' rescue by nosing the cubs off the woman's back. Zephyr took a little more effort, the dragon using her wings to try and outwit the larger challenger but eventually conceding defeat. Clear of the little ones pinning her down, Weiss made one attempt to regain her feet, which was effectively thwarted when Blake plopped herself down instead, a sly smile on her lips as she directed her gaze towards the cubs and dragon. "Also, mine."

"Blake!" The Queen wheezed, unable to even begin pushing herself up despite only a fraction of the werecat's body covering her own. "Blake, what are you doing?"

"Marking my territory," she replied, once again crossing her paws with a sense of finality.

Winter picked up Grace, surprised at how easily the cub accepted being held, and sat on the grass while Harmony did her best to clamber onto Zephyr's back, swatting at her wings while Licht tried nipping at her face, never quite able to get within reach. Lumi, meanwhile, tried halfheartedly to shake off Noire, who was gnawing on his right ear. Yang used her tail and neck to circle around all of them, watching the little ones play while her best friend teased her sister-in-law.

Well, legally speaking, that last bit didn't quite ring true yet, but once the excitement of being reunited died down, Winter fully intended to plan out the ceremonies for her sister and herself. Now only did she fully intend for Zephyr to be her heir but she but she wanted no one questioning the legitimacy of her feelings for Yang, despite their... rocky start, in both their relationship and parenthood. She shuffled back until she could lean against her lover's solid frame, content to sit with Grace curiously clawing at her vest, apparently amazed at the texture.

A thought struck her as she watched Licht get chased away by a spurt of blue flame- from personal experience, she'd found it wasn't yet truly hot enough to burn, merely heat tinged by the little dragon's innate magic- and hide by his Mother's head while she quietly argued for her freedom with the larger werecat. "Where's Whitley?"

Weiss stopped her struggling for a moment, a shadow passing over her expression as she mechanically reacts to her son swatting at her arm, twisting it left and right to keep Licht from catching the prize too quickly. "He's... likely in the library. He locked himself in there just after the cubs were born and I've hardly seen him since. I don't think he's... quite as enthused as we are."

"He probably doesn't understand it." Winter offered, saddened that things between her younger siblings hadn't improved since she left. Whitley always qualified as 'the difficult one' growing up, at first rebelling against their parents while his sisters did everything in their power to obey, and then playing the obedient son when the young women revolted, landing somewhere in the middle during the coup that won Weiss the crown. He'd been helpful and even kind in the month immediately before she left, chasing after Yang, but something might've changed in the meantime. Perhaps living with a pregnant werecat had some downsides she missed out on experiencing. "If it's any consolation, it's only a matter of time before Whitley finds someone special himself."

"I worry he's already found someone special: himself," her sister replied, a wry grin to her lips as she shoved aside her melancholy to react with appropriate feigned agony as Licht's bite finally found purchase.

However, it soon became apparent that he lacked the same energy from before, the others tiring as well and beginning to stumble around together, obviously fighting to remain upright while playing.

"Looks like it's time for a nap." Blake observed, pulling a groan from her friend.

"How do you get them to lay down? Zeph fights us every time and I have no clue what to do!" Yang bent her long neck to drag a clawed paw down her face. "She just snaps and runs around until she literally drops where she's standing! I know we're supposed to get her on some sort of schedule but-"

"It's easy." The werecat assured, lifting her head. "All you have to do is cheat. Watch."

Lifting herself up just enough for her mate to crawl out from under her, Blake waited a moment before starting up a low growl, demanding the attention of the cubs and Zephyr. Once their eyes were on her, the werecat opened her jaw wide, tongue lolling out as her ears shifted back. Almost immediately, the six little ones yawned as well, their determination to keep playing dramatically reduced with just that one little action. Then Blake did it again, settling back down and turning on her side, making a grand show of getting comfortable. Winter blinked in surprise when Grace suddenly wiggled out of her arms, padding a few feet away before laying down on the grass and yawning again. One by one, she was joined by her brothers and sisters, the cubs snuggling up together as they continued yawning, ears and tails drooping until they settled down. And, to her further surprise, Zephyr circled them, clearly intending to join the pile but looking between her parents before doing so, waiting for some sign it would be okay.

"Go on." Yang nodded, trying very hard to contain both her shock and excitement. "Get some sleep, kiddo."

Fluttering her wings in gratitude, the little dragon wasted no time in climbing atop the pile of cubs, apparently unwilling to find a spot among her cousins and opting instead to rest on top of them. None seemed to mind, Harmony going so far as to turn on her side, grab Zephyr's tail with her forepaws, and use it as a pillow of sorts.

In a matter of minutes, everything was still.

"Are... you... kidding me?" The golden dragon whispered, puffing out a breath through her nose. "That's it? That's all you do? And it works every time?"

"Obviously," Weiss replied, stifling a yawn of her own behind one closed fist. "Now, if you'd like to join us, I think a nap sounds rather nice."

The Queen of Atlas crawled towards her mate as Blake moved one paw to allow Weiss to curl up, back pressed to the werecat's front, before using her paw to pull them even closer together. If Winter had to guess, it was as much a pragmatic decision as a sentimental one; she couldn't imagine either of them being keen on changing their sleeping arrangement for long, all things considered, and this way meant it would be markedly more difficult for the cubs to wake their Mommy up by getting an early dinner.

Behind her, Yang shifted, just enough to draw her gaze up to the dragon's face. They were both exhausted from the journey back to the capital, true, and sleeping outdoors seemed the least of their concerns. While she would prefer cuddling up with Yang's human form, that would require retrieving suitable clothes for her to wear from their travel packs, and that seemed a bit too far- and too much loud movement- for the moment. Wordlessly agreeing, Winter got up and moved closer to her lover's front leg while the dragon extended one wing, providing shade for everyone and tucking her head up underneath it as well. Before laying down, the woman placed a kiss at the end of Yang's nose, smiling at the bump she received in reply.

With her back against the warm, golden scales of her lover, her sister and her mate already lightly dozing a few feet away, and their combined offspring between them, Winter drifted off into a peaceful, light slumber.

Without opening her eyes, she could tell three things: hours had passed they'd laid down, she was not ready to be awake yet, and her lover had moved in her sleep. The first she figured out from the cooler air and the orange glow against her eyelid, telltale of the setting sun bouncing off the castle's windows and into the garden and labyrinth below. The second, purely from her abnormal reluctance to actually move, likely a product of the long journey in search of Yang and bringing both dragons back home, most of that time spent either sleeping restlessly when she could or waking at odd hours when it seemed Zephyr needed food or water. The third, although hinted at by both the sunlight bearing down on her and the lack of warm scales at her back, actually had its biggest evidence in the loud snore Yang always developed whenever she slept even partially on her back. The light droning sent little vibrations through the ground and it would no doubt wake the others; until then, though, she could indulge a little while longer. She'd already grown used to the sound and, frankly, preferred it to the silence that haunted her during the months she spent searching for Yang.

"Safe to say any doubt is utterly erased." The dry remark came from her sister, who apparently was wide awake, and caused her to blink her eyes open and turn towards the sound.

Weiss sat, leaning back against Blake, and both of them were watching the little ones with curious little smiles. All six of them had shifted themselves in slumber, with Licht now using his brother as a pillow, Harmony having somehow found her way on top of Grace's head, Noire having turned completely around, and, still on top of them all, laid Zephyr. Except, instead of being laid out like before, she'd turned onto her back, her left legs making little kicks at nothing. She didn't need to look, but she did anyway, rolling over to see Yang behind her, with her left legs kicking at the air as well, in between her snores.

Rather than wake the golden dragon, Winter shuffled back until she could lean against Yang, making herself comfortable and allowing her eyes to fall shut as her lover's snoring sent vibrations through her back. The little ones were still asleep and, despite how much catching up remained for all of them, there would be time for that later.

For now, she was content to let those who could continue resting.

A/N: Once again, Grace, Licht, Lumi, and Harmony belong to Dash. Noire and Zephyr are my own Next Gen OCs.

#Monochrome #Elderburn #High Fantasy Next Gen AU #what is wrong with me jfc I need to do better #TRR writes

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smilekraftnagpur-blog · 6 years

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Social media's effects on patient trends

Like it or not, social media and the “selfie” era are here to stay.According to a recent survey released by the American Academy of Facial Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery (AAFPRS), social media’s impact on aesthetics has been enormous, especially in how people perceive and project themselves. The survey results showed that in 2017, 55% of facial plastic surgeons consulted patients that wanted to look better in selfies. This is a 13% increase from 2016.

This phenomenon has also thrust aesthetic practices into participating on social media platforms, such as Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat, to promote and market their services. To resist social media would be to ignore a foremost modern marketing tool.

For better or worse, social media is actually advancing the aesthetic cause, stated Jason Emer, M.D., F.A.A.D., a cosmetic and dermatologic surgeon in Beverly Hills, Calif.

“It’s not just filling a line anymore, it is full facial shaping,” he said. “When we talk about the stomach, it’s not regular liposuction anymore, it is body contouring and shaping because people see what these devices can do, and they talk about it online.”

Social media has also made people more comfortable and interested in visiting aesthetic clinics.

“Patients are more informed than they used to be and are doing more research before they step foot into a practice,” said Mara Shorr, B.S., CAC, vice president of marketing and business development for Shorr Solutions (Winter Park, Fla.).

“They’re learning not only about the procedures offered and what the different providers are doing, they are also getting a feel for the providers’ personalities,” she said.

There are some downsides associated with social media apps, such as so-called “SnapChat dysmorphia,” in which someone requests an outcome that matches their exquisitely Photoshopped, digitally enhanced smartphone-generated image.

“I have seen people bring in a filtered Snapchat photo and say they want their skin to look like that all the time, without makeup,” said Sheila Nazarian, M.D., a plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills, Calif.

Although using filtered photos can help patients communicate ideas of how they might look, “Some people ask for relatively extreme procedures to achieve unnatural results,” stated Leif Rogers, M.D., F.A.C.S., a plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills.

“The most common look today is the ‘JLo Jaw,’” Dr. Rogers continued. “Many female patients are asking for a highly defined, yet feminine jawline. Many people will use various apps to achieve a look that they will present to me as their desired after result, but what they don’t realize is that it could mean major surgery to achieve this look.”

As Ms. Shorr pointed out, one reason for SnapChat dysmorphia is that people are much more critical of themselves because they spend so much time looking at their selfies.

“Even a generation ago, people did not spend this kind of time looking at photos of themselves,” she said. “Selfies have changed social behavior. This may be good for the medical aesthetic business, but may not be good for society, overall.”

Furthermore, amateur photography often overstates the dysmorphia problem, Dr. Nazarian noted

“Sometimes, in these photos, a person’s nose looks big because the camera is too close to the face, which is a known optical illusion,” she said.

Patients today tend to be hyper aware of their bodies – sometimes to the point of being falsely aware and unrealistically hopeful,” Dr. Nazarian remarked. “This can put both the physician and patient in a weird spot, because the patient has impossible expectations.”

“There are definitely people who have an altered perception of reality,” Dr. Emer concurred. “Many patients don’t realize they have unrealistic expectations. They look at Kylie Jenner and think, I want her lips. What they don’t realize is that she’s received 10 to 15 syringes of a dermal filler that cost $10,000 to $15,000. They think one syringe is going to work.”

Spotting Problem Patients

In Dr. Nazarian’s experience, people suffering from this syndrome are pretty easy to spot.

“I’ve turned some patients over to therapists,” she admitted. “You definitely want to do surgical procedures for people who are joyous and excited about doing it, not someone that is unsure and emotional.”

To help weed out those with dysmorphia issues, Dr. Nazarian includes specific questions on her intake forms, such as, ‘Are you doing this for anyone else? Is anyone pressuring you to do this? Are you depressed?’

“There comes a point when the physician has to take prudent medical care versus the exacerbation of beauty,” Ms. Shorr maintained. “Physicians should not allow the patient’s will and desires to control their surgical and / or artistic ability.”

Both body dysmorphia and social media addiction have become relatively common in the cosmetic surgery patient population, reported Dr. Rogers.

“It works as a contraindication to a surgical procedure, and the risk of a dissatisfied patient is significantly higher,” he said.

“Another important note is that an addiction to social media does not necessarily indicate unreasonable expectations for a cosmetic procedure,” Dr. Rogers added. “And social media addiction is a problem all of its own and affects all age ranges.”

Social Media Influencers

Increasingly, patients go online to discover the latest aesthetic treatments from social media influencers – YouTube stars, Facebook-based pundits, Instagram celebrities and other online personalities that have developed a strong presence across the most popular online platforms and command hundreds of thousands of followers.

Social media influencers and celebrities that get caught up in the world of aesthetics have enthusiastically tried out new procedures on livestreaming TV, and share their experiences online with information-hungry fans.

“It is really funny how patients want to relate,” Dr. Emer added. “They want more than just a before-and-after or an expert. They want someone that is real and reveals all of the treatments they’ve had on social media.”

“Social media influencers are the true celebrities today,” opined Dr. Nazarian. “I would much rather advertise with a social media influencer or reality TV star than a traditional TV celebrity or actress. These influencers talk about the procedures they are getting done, so they bring awareness to plastic surgery. Yes, they crave attention, but they are the ones influencing the digitally inclined, which is a majority of the population right now,” she continued.

A controversial reality TV star is more likely to livestream her labiaplasty than a mainstream personality or actress, Dr. Nazarian pointed out.

“For example, I recently streamed a labiaplasty on Farrah Abraham, from MTV’s reality show, Teen Mom. While she may not be the person I want my kids to watch, I knew her presence was more likely to bring awareness to a practice or physician. I got 44 inquiries about labiaplasty after I did that event with her. She made it okay to talk about, and that is a public service,” she said.

Then there are the rock star practitioners that end up being social media influencers themselves, as a result of creating recognized digital brands and flooding social media sites with treatment images and videos.

For instance, “Dr. Miami,” a.k.a., Michael Salzhauer, M.D., has over 285,000 fans on social media and around 1.2 million SnapChat views daily. In 2017, he outdid himself with a reality TV series and a Billboard charting dance single.

Control the Conversation

With so many social media voices in play, it is important that the practitioner control the messaging to draw in new patients and keep existing ones happy.

“The online conversation is controlled by the patients, regardless of the age group, and there are positives and negatives,” Ms. Shorr stated.

For example, consider the surgeon who brands himself as specializing in the Brazilian butt lift. A potential patient looking around on social media for a surgeon may see this type of promotion and assume the doctor only specializes in butt enhancements, Ms. Shorr elaborated.

“If I’m interested in a rhinoplasty or facelift, then I am going to rule out that physician because I am unaware that they offer more than just butt lifts,” she said. “So sometimes this type of branding could negatively impact part of your practice.”

Taking control over the online dialogue is important, Ms. Shorr reiterated.

“There are times when you’re not able to control the dialogue in social media. This can be a very good thing when people are going on about how amazing your practice is and how much they love your results,” she said. “But, it can be harmful to your reputation if you lose control and someone suddenly becomes negative. The social media crowd can be swayed easily.”

To better understand how the online world perceives physicians, Dr. Emer shared this insight: “People want to go to someone that they see as an artist, but also one that they can identify with. They watch videos on YouTube to find the leading experts, see what procedures differentiate them from other practitioners, and also to see a personal side of the physician.”

Patients not only watch for the newest treatment modality, they also look for the physician using that modality in a novel manner.

“It could be the physician who is doing cutting edge combination treatments,” Dr. Emer remarked. “People get really excited and attracted to that, and it brings them in.”

Getting into the Stream

Practitioners that post or stream procedure videos are educating viewers, as well as doing external marketing in the process.

“You don’t even need advertising and marketing as much in the traditional sense if you’re constantly posting on social media,” Dr. Emer reported. “Social media posts catch people’s attention and are easily accessible.”

Ms. Shorr concurred, “Social media is going to continue to be the wave of the future and will get even bigger. The old, archaic advertising methods do not work as well on the demographics of millennials and generations to come. These people are all digital all the time.”

Cracking Assumptions

It is commonly believed that 20- and 30-somethings are easiest to reach via social media platforms. But according to Dr. Emer, if you look at the statistics you will see it is a mixture.

“The growing populations of patients are the 25- to 35-year-olds and those aged 65 and up. Everyone is using social media. If you focus on the millennial only then you’re short-changing yourself,” he said.

In Dr. Rogers experience, “One does get the younger demographic to some degree, but we have also seen an increase in patients aged 40 and older, as well as a rise in the return rate of established patients.”

The younger patient is not as highly influenced as one might think, simply because cosmetic surgery isn’t on their radar,” he added. “And they are not the typical patient that follows a cosmetic medical practice.”

So, how should one assess the modern, digital and social media savvy aesthetic patient?

“Social media tends to create a very self-conscious patient that is overly preoccupied by what others think,” Dr. Rogers commented.

“That being said, I believe there are good things to come from social media,” he stated. “For those that have learned to use social media to create a business or brand, I solute you for being innovative and thinking out of the box, just don’t let it – and the patient attitudes that it has spawned – rule your life.”

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