grass chewing

anonymous asked:

if you have the time - how do you think horses might differ if they were a carnivorous species? like in skeletal structure, overall look, maybe even behaviour etc

First of all, they would not be horses, They would be some sort of eldrich demonic fae beast monstrosity and I would like exactly none of that, thank you very much.

But on topic, some of the way an equine species would need to be modified to become carnivorous include:

  • Wider mouths. Horse mouths don’t open very far and are geared towards chewing high fiber diets. All their dentition needs to change.
  • So does their lips and jaw muscles. The carnivore horse needs to be able to open wide and have a strong bite force. The strongest jaw muscles of horses are for chewing grass side to side, they need more chomping power.
  • Forward facing eyes if this species hunts rather than scavenging. Horses have great peripheral vision but poor binocular vision.
  • A sensible digestive system, for goodness sake.
  • Whether you keep them quadrupedal or make them bipedal is up to you, both motions of locomotion are efficient enough.
  • They may have longer tail bones for increased dexterity when turning at speed.
  • Whether you keep the hooves or switch to claws is up to your design, but the claws are definitely more concerning.
  • Continuing to live (and hunt) in a group keeps the horsey flavor and is extra concerning. Imagine them playing tug of war with a corpse like wolves do.
funhaus gothic
  • you’re watching a video. no one is playing the game. the character is moving, and they’re reacting, but no hands are on a controller. it’s being live streamed. they swear it’s not prerecorded.
  • you wake up from a nap and lawrence is standing over you, chewing on grass. when you close your eyes and reopen them, he is gone. you realize you don’t know how lawrence could be there, since you are in new york.
  • matt peake offers you oats. you’ve been eating oats for three months. he smiles as you take another scoop.
  • elyse’s hair fluctuates lengths multiple times during the video. it’s mesmerizing. she makes a joke about the muppets, and you laugh.
  • you’ve heard that there are editors, but you do not see them. you try to walk into the bungalow, but you enter the main building. you try to enter the bungalow again. you’re on the dude soup set.
  • there are demo disks everywhere. in the walls, on the bathroom floor, in the fridge. you ask why you’re not allowed to throw them away. bruce hisses.
  • a video gets posted. it’s called openhaus.exe. you don’t really know how they uploaded an exe file, but you watch it. it’s just adam staring at the camera for ten minutes. it has one million views.
  • they have been streaming all night. they are all gone, but the game still runs. nothing is happening. someone in the back of the office laughs. you’ve only been watching this for three minutes.
Kaltenecker Headcanons

Cause I’m bored and just saw the word “cow” and started thinking about the best space cow. 

- They make her her own little stable area in one of the unused hallways and fill it with the space equivalent of hay and straw and spend days figuring out what the hell the man at the space mall had been feeding her in space

- Kaltenecker really likes Coran’s cooking. They figure this out after an incident involving hooves, Pidge’s glasses, and several attempts at Hunk trying to show Coran how to make spaghetti

- Coran’s just happy someone likes his cooking tbh 

- Everything Kaltenecker does Lance refers to as “space ____” (he probs does this with everything tbh)

- *Kaltenecker moos* “Wow, our space cow just space mooed!” “Lance oh my god” 

- Hunk casually mentions wanting a hamburger one day while they’re cleaning out Kaltenecker’s stall, not really even meaning anything by it

- Pidge and Lance instantly shriek and vault on top of the cow (who doesn’t even flinch and continues chewing her grass), protesting loudly that Kaltenecker is their child 

- No one mentions anything beef related after that

- Keith surprisingly has experience milking cows (he won’t explain why; Lance has a theory that he’s secretly a cowboy) and so eventually they’re drinking milk and eating cheese and yogurt again and hot damn they all forgot how good cheese was

- *Kaltenecker gives milk* “WOW, space milk!” “LANCE”

- She is for some reason really intimidating to invaders??? 

- One time a couple of Galra managed to tie up Lance and Pidge and hold them hostage in exchange for the lions 

- And as they were slowly making their escape they just heard this fucking

- “Moooooooo”

- They turn around to find this massive black and white thing behind them and instead of killing it, like the paladins are afraid they’ll do, they turn and flee in the opposite direction 

- Lance once plastered “MISSING” posters of Kaltenecker all over the ship when he couldn’t find her

- Turns out Shiro stole her so that he could attempt to stop “freaking her out” with his robotic hand 

- She’s not actually scared of his hand, Shiro’s just paranoid

- One day Kaltenecker gets all lethargic and stops moving as much and Pidge and Lance are a fucking W R E C K because they think their cow is dying 

- They beg Coran to find out what’s wrong and he comes out of the room like an hour later with a mildly horrified look on his face and just goes “Earth birthing is so messy”


- Turns out she was just pregnant with a smol Kaltenecker and boy does everyone get a kick out of that

- Baby Kaltenecker seems to think Coran is her second mother, and she latches onto the man’s shirt tail whenever he’s nearby

- He can’t say he hates it. Her big brown eyes are adorable 

- The mice get on great with the cows. They ride them everywhere

- Allura pretends to hate having such large animals on board, but secretly she’ll sneak down to the stall at night and cuddle with the calf and feed it like she’s seen Keith do

- It’s not really a secret from anyone anymore, especially after that one day she had a piece of straw sticking from her hair for three solid hours before she noticed. 

- When they find Shiro again, Lance jokingly says that they almost put Baby Kaltenecker (affectionately dubbed “Bee”) in charge of the black lion while he was gone

- Keith, very dead faced: “She would have been better at it”

anonymous asked:

Could you do a Troy/Reader where reader is afraid of Troy because she was almost killed with Luci Nick and Travis and tries to avoid and Troy doesn't like that you're afraid of him so he keeps following you around trying to get you to like him?

Word Count: 1013

Warnings: N/A

Characters: Troy Otto; Madison Clark; reader (Y/N).

It had been about a week since you’d arrived at the ranch. You had been in the helicopter when it crashed and Travis had been killed, and you’d taken it pretty hard. You were one of Madison’s students but since you now didn’t have a family of your own, the Clarks had become your family.

Madison seemed pretty comfortable in this new place, though you were anything but. Maybe it was the fact that Travis wasn’t there, or maybe it was Troy. Something about the guy put you on edge. You were with Nick, Travis and Luciana when the so called ‘experiments’ were taking place, and although Troy technically saved you by shooting down walkers when you were running to the helicopter, you still didn’t trust him - he was a loose cannon.

You could see what Madison was trying to do - she was trying to take advantage of Troy’s mummy issues, but you still didn’t like the situation. Troy had tried to win your approval on numerous occasions - opening doors, offering you the last coffee - that sort of mumbo jumbo, but you still only saw him as the guy who tried to kill your family in the name of science.

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Stubborn Love

A request made for my anniversary celebration by @thebiggsby with some help from @little-red-83 for the plot.

The Prince of Mirkwood

The dark sable of the stallion stood dark again the lush green of the grassy field sprawled alongside the stables of Mirkwood. The short bristle of you brush left subtle streaks across the coat of the stallion and the sunlight lent the beast a glossy sheen. You were lulled by the repetitive motion of your arm and the steady breath of the calm horse. You raised your other hand to run your fingers the length of its long nose and gave a content sigh.

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Various Varieties of Vegans, Pt. 2
  • minimalist vegan: probably makes youtube videos and lives out a backpack. what we should all aspire to be.
  • traveling vegan: most likely sticks to the equator and lives off of fresh fruit. alternatively, east asia is an excellent choice for vegan cuisine.
  • unstable vegan: can barely take care of theirself so compensates by being compassionate to literally everyone and everything.
  • depressed vegan: life is sad so i'm going to cry into this bowl of nice cream...
  • sad vegan: there's nothing to eat here...
  • freegan: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
  • healthy vegan: veganism cured my depression and made my skin glow and might as well have already cured world hunger <3
  • punk vegan: manic panic hair dye. faux leather. fresh fruits and vegetables. anarchy.
  • small town vegan: food? lol. friends? lol. you can find them in a field stroking a cat and chewing on grass with the nearby grazing cattle.
  • city vegan: food? three vegan cafes within five blocks. friends? there's a vegan meet up this weekend! you can find them in the park feeding the pigeons with a flock of other vegans.
  • synthetic vegan: only wears polyester and only eats texturized soy protein.
  • romantic vegan: is determined to convert their partner to veganism, and will never give up.
  • gay vegan: the only animal they eat is pussy. either that, or their favorite fruit is banana.
  • jaded vegan: yeah no one's ever changing and i can never find a vegan partner sooooo...
  • apologetic vegan: meat is murder! jk pls don't hurt me im a pacifist >_<
  • rampant vegan: MEAT IS MURDER! CONFESS YOUR CRIMES AND APOLOGIZE TO THIS GROUND BEEF. (also known as the vegan meat eaters expect us to be)
  • communist vegan: a spectre is haunting earth--the spectre of veganism. the powers of this planet have aligned in a holy alliance to exorcise this spectre: the meat industry, the consumer, and the FDA...

Dear Tumblr, I have been quiet for so long! But here’s why. I’ve spent the past few weeks trekking through the Himalayas on the Annapurna circuit. One of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. 

I’m going to share the tale of time on the circuit day by day, in the hopes it gives you all a good laugh, makes you all admire how cool I am and maybe gives you some info if you’re also planning on doing the same thing.

Day 1. Pohkara to Besisahar to Ngarde. First of all, let me introduce my trekking team, who all just happened to sit near me on the bus.  Erica from America
The baby of the group. 20 years old, though you’d never guess it. Whether her maturity level was on par with ours or whether we all had the maturity of a 20 year old is still yet to be decided. The amount of times we discussed our toilet habits makes me think it’s probably the latter though. She wants to study film and learn more about her camera, so we were basically the greatest pair ever. It was nice to impart some of my knowledge.
Tomas, Tommy, Tomik, the Norwegian.
A career traveller who spends half his time in the arctic on a weather station and the other half gallivanting the globe creating all sorts of mischief. Basically the coolest dude in the world despite the fact he needs tattoos to remind himself to breathe. We just said goodbye to him as he jumped on his motorbike to head back through India along the Manali leh highway. See what I mean. Coolest dude.
Bob, a.k.a Bobby hot shakes
If there was an award for ‘greatest human alive’ bobby would definitely win. The papa bear of the group, 32 from England. He became our unpaid tour guide, mapping each days route and making sure we didn’t wander off the path to our death.
When my shoes broke and i needed superglue, bob had my back. When my water purification didn’t work and i needed a chlorine tablet, bob had my back. When I needed a laugh to make my forget how sore my back was from carrying all my camera gear, bob most definitely had my back.
Marijn, a.k.a Big Maz.
A dutch software engineer with the sweetest calf muscles known to man. Big Maz kept us entertained by consistently living his best life. When my water bottle broke he admired his own unbroken water bottle. When my shoes broke, he was amazed by how unbroken his own shoes where. When we were tired from trekking, big Maz was ready to run down and run back up the mountain. We love you mazdog.

And finally me. Surprisingly for the first time in my life I wasn’t the weirdest one of the group.
So to begin the trek you need to take a bus from Pohkara to Besisahar. 3 - 4 hours getting bounced around. From Besisahar we trekked to Ngarde, about 4 hours of hiking. First up we had to weigh everyone’s backpack to discover who’s was heaviest. I won the competition by a landslide (my canon 5D, 70 - 200m lens, 16-35mm lens and my tripod weighing me down), much to Big Maz’s amusement due to my tiny size.
Finally we set off, we got lost on the first turn, but luckily Bob got us back on track. It’s a subtropical climate down at normal alititude, so we were all sweaty messes. It seemed crazy to think in a few days time we’d be hitting the snow.
I thought the first day of the trek was meant to be dusty and dirty, filled with trucks and other trekkers. Friends had told me it was like a highway of trekkers, but I guess because I did it juuuust on the edge of the season there wasn’t as many people.
Adorable town after adorable town, tropical jungle, rice fields, children yelling namaste, cows and buffalo chewing grass.
Finally we reached destination 1. Ngarde. We walked past the first section of the town and ended up at the ‘Adventure Trekkers Guesthouse’ a beautiful little place right next to a river that runs fresh from the mountains.The rooms are simple but cozy and if you lie in the correct position you won’t feel how thin the mattress is. (Plus the longer you travel in asia the more you enjoy hard beds)

I photographed the first sunset of my trip and the old love came back. I’d been so worried that working in my field had drained my creative energy and most of all my passion. I’d hardly grabbed my camera in the first week of my trip and back home it had become an effort to go on a photography adventure. But day 1 of the circuit and I couldn’t put it down again.
I just needed something worthwhile to photograph, something inspirational.
I also had my first stargazing adventure, I decided to leave the camera behind as I knew the stars where just going to get better and better the higher up we got.
I was sitting down listening to the water rush past, watching the fireflies light up around me and staring up at a perfect view of the stars.
All I could do was breathe. Breathe in the beautiful life I’m so privileged to lead. Breathe out all the worries that had been clouding my judgement and weighing me down in my home life.
It was a lovely moment that was only slightly ruined by the discovery of 2 leeches in my pants. The first day was complete and it seemed hard to imagine it getting any better, already it all seemed too good to be true. BUT BETTER IT GOT!

The next excerpt comes tomorrow.

20 Questions with Dr Ferox #12

I am beyond tired folks, struggling to set by body clock back after a night shift again. It’s a peculiar mix of grunge and headache without having done anything super fun to deserve it, so my apologies if I’m a little slow on the uptake.

But here I have 20 more questions and comments you’ve sent me, so lets get into them. I have tried to tag the question askers, but if you asked on Anon then you’ll have to look through yourself to see if you’ve been answered yet.

Anonymous said: How is Lucifer doing? Are you still seeing him? I checked the archives, but I didn’t see any updates past a point and I was curious about the bunbun.

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Too Hot To Handle: Chapter Twenty Three

So I kinda wrote a different kind of fanfiction. It’s nothing as in depth as my other fics so I am going to post it here. ENJOY!!***Actor, Real Person Fanfiction, Walking Dead RPF***Featuring: Jeffrey Dean Morgan X Original Female Character, Norman Reedus and others.. (FYI this is total fiction, as in I know nothing about JDMs life or that of his real SO and son etc. Because of this, for this work of fiction, they don’t exist. Jeffrey’s been a typical actor playboy dating fellow stars etc. This is written for sick daydreaming pleasure.)

Aria St. James is a busy woman with a thriving restaurant. She thought she had everything she needed until a few famous faces visit her dining room. A tall, dark and handsome actor decides Aria’s just what he’s been looking for.

Rating: Mature : NSFW **dirty dirty**

Originally posted by negandarylsatisfaction

Aria and Jeffrey pulled up to the large colonial era house with it white pillars and deep green shutters. The hedges were immaculate and the fountains lit perfectly. Aria hated it.
“I hate this place.” She stated as he  shifted into park and looked at her in confusion. “It’s so fake.”
“You didn’t tell me that?”
Shrugging, she tapped her fingers on the door handle and explained, “Don’t get me wrong, Megan’s family is… fine. They’ve helped me out before. It’s just, everything has strings. There’s always a catch, we’ll help if…” pursing her lips she added, “I love them, I really do. Megan’s father is brilliant and taught me quite a lot about running a business. Her mom is suffocating and domineering but she always has my best interest in mind.”
“Well doll, you won’t be by yourself this time.” He assured, leaning forward to pull her lips to his. Kissing him softly, she hummed deeply as his fingers curled into her hair and his tongue delved into mouth.
A loud rap on the window had Aria yelping in fear, to find Megan laughing hysterically outside the car.
“That little fucker.” She growled, yanking the door open to greet her best friend. “You little fucker.”
Megan grinned widely and attacked her with tight arms. Aria felt her eyes burn with tears as they rocked back and forth.
“Missed you.”
“Me too babycakes.” Megan croaked, clearing her throat and pulling back to smile at her. Her fiery red hair was curled and twisted into a braid, her pale skin and freckles glowing under the street lights. “So introduce me to your boytoy or I’m gonna die.”

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#138 - For anonymous x3

Filling the prompts “something where Van and the reader drop out of school together to pursue the band?” and “you were his only ever girlfriend when he was young, all the songs from the two albums are about you, you were like, meant to be, the happiest couple ever, baby plans and shit… but then you kinda starts to stand out at your job and he has to tour more, so he decides to break up with u, even though you still wanna make things work? then you get depressed and triggered, but you guys never stopped loving each other and meet after years” and “reader and Van have been dating for quite some time and that their relationship is starting to get difficult because Van is caught up with touring, and that he is starting to like the fame and recognition he’s getting. Maybe Van is starting to think that maybe it’s best for them to break up or something? I kinda want a not so happy ending kind of story….”

Note: Indulge me, friends. I’ve tried something new with the structure of this fic. I need you to listen to Dakota by Stereophonics before you read this. I dedicate this fic to firstly, the requesters. And secondly, to @you-andthebottlemen. She knows why. 

Verse 1

Thinking back, thinking of you. Summertime, think it was June. Yeah, think it was June. Laying back, head on the grass. Chewing gum, having some laughs.
You made me feel like the one.

“I’m in love with you,” Van said. You rolled your eyes and threw your math textbook at him; purposefully aiming to miss. It was heavy with the weight of all the pain it had inflicted on you and the countless students who came before. “And I’m in love with this dope. And this fucking record. Did I tell you Dad’s taking me to see them next month?” The sound of Dakota filled the smoky room.

“Don’t think he’s gonna take you when he finds out about school,” you replied as you took the joint from Van’s hand.

“Nah. He’s gotta know school wouldn’t be my thing, you know? Really gotta focus on the band. Dead sure we can make it,”

“But you don’t have a backup plan,”

“Don’t need one… We’re gonna make it.”

Van was so, so confident that his high school rock band was going to get him to stadium gigs and musical stardom. You snuck into the hallway of his house and watched as he told Mary and Bernie he was dropping out of school because of that belief. 

“Van, they kicked you out,” Bernie said.

“Nah. Mutual decision,” Van grinned. Mary’s face was blank, and Bernie shook his head.

“My boy… The world is… It’s hard to make it in music. You know that,” he told his firstborn, only born.

“I know. We’re good, though. We got Larry and Y/N to keep us in check and tell us when we’re writing something shit. I just… School’s doin’ my head in. I promise I can do this. Ma, I’ll buy you a jacuzzi. And you,” Van said, pulling his seat up next to Bernie and holding his shoulders, looking into his father’s eyes, “I will make you so fucking proud. I promise.”

You lasted only a month in school without the guys. There was a fight between your parents and Mary and Bernie. They called Van reckless and a bad influence, which was true, but Mary said that Van would always look after you, and surely that is all they could want for you - to be happy and loved until the very end of your days.

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Counting Sheep

As the time grew shorter, Ian found it impossible to sleep. The need to go, to find Rachel, burned in him so that he felt hot coals in the pit of his stomach all of the time. Auntie Claire called it heartburn, and it was. She said it was from bolting his food, though, and it wasn’t that—he could barely eat. 

He spent his days with his father, as much as he could. Sitting in the corner of the speak-a-word room, watching his father and his elder brother go about the business of Lallybroch, he couldn’t understand how it would be possible to stand up and walk away, to leave them behind. To leave his father forever behind. 

During the days, there were things to be done, folk to be visited, to talk to, and the land to be walked over, the stark beauty of it soothing when his feelings grew too heated to bear. At night, though, the house lay quiet, the creaking silence punctuated by his father’s distant cough and his two young nephews’ heavy breathing in the room beside him. He began to feel the house itself breathe around him, drawing one ragged, heavy-chested gasp after another, and to feel the weight of it on his own chest, so he sat up in bed, gulping air only to be sure he could. And finally he would slide out of bed, steal downstairs with his boots in his hands, and let himself out of the kitchen door to walk the night under clouds or stars, the clean wind fanning the coals of his heart to open flame, until he should find his tears and peace in which to shed them. 

One night he found the door unbolted already. He went out cautiously, looking round, but saw no one. Likely Young Jamie gone to the barn; one of the two cows was due to calf any day. He should go and help, maybe … but the burning under his ribs was painful, he needed to walk a bit first. Jamie would have fetched him in any case, had he thought he needed help. 

He turned away from the house and its outbuildings and headed up the hill, past the sheep pen, where the sheep lay in somnolent mounds, pale under the moon, now and then emitting a soft, sudden bah! , as though startled by some sheep dream. 

Such a dream took shape before him suddenly, a dark form moving against the fence, and he uttered a brief cry that made the nearer sheep start and rustle in a chorus of low-pitched bahs . 

“Hush, a bhailach,” his mother said softly. “Get this lot started, and ye’ll wake the dead.” 

He could make her out now, a small, slender form, with her unbound hair a soft mass against the paleness of her shift. 

“Speak o’ the dead,” he said rather crossly, forcing his heart down out of his throat. “I thought ye were a ghost. What are ye doing out here, Mam?” 

“Counting sheep,” she said, a thread of humor in her voice. “That’s what ye’re meant to do when ye canna sleep, aye?” 

“Aye.” He came and stood beside her, leaning on the fence. “Does it work?” 


They stood still for a bit, watching the sheep stir and settle. They smelled sweetly filthy, of chewed grass and sheep shit and greasy wool, and Ian found that it was oddly comforting just to be with them. 

“Does it work to count them, when ye ken already how many there are?” he asked, after a short silence. His mother shook her head. 

“No, I say their names over. It’s like saying the rosary, only ye dinna feel the need to be asking. It wears ye down, asking.” 

Especially when ye ken the answer’s going to be no , Ian thought, and moved by sudden impulse, put his arm around her shoulders. She made a small sound of amused surprise, but then relaxed, laying her head against him. He could feel the small bones of her, light as a bird’s, and thought his heart might break. 

They stood for a while that way, and then she freed herself, gently, moving away a little and turning to him. 

“Sleepy yet?” 


“Aye, well. Come on, then.” Not waiting for an answer, she turned and made her way through the dark, away from the house. 

There was a moon, half full, and he’d been out more than long enough for his eyes to adjust; it was simple to follow, even through the jumbled grass and stones and heather that grew on the hill behind the house. 

Where was she taking him? Or rather, why? For they were heading uphill, toward the old broch—and the burying ground that lay nearby. He felt a chill round his heart—did she mean to show him the site of his father’s grave? 

But she stopped abruptly and stooped, so he nearly tripped over her. Straightening up, she turned and put a pebble into his hand. 

“Over here,” she said softly, and led him to a small square stone set in the earth. He thought it was Caitlin’s grave—the child who’d come before Young Jenny, the sister who’d lived but one day—but then saw that Caitlin’s stone lay a few feet away. This one was the same size and shape, but—he squatted by it, and running his fingers over the shadows of its carving, made out the name. 


“Mam,” he said, and his voice sounded strange to his own ears. 

“Is that right, Ian?” she said, a little anxious. “Your da said he wasna quite certain of the spelling of the Indian name. I had the stone carver put both, though. I thought that was right.” 

“Both?” But his hand had already moved down and found the other name. 


He swallowed hard. 

“That was right,” he said very softly. His hand rested flat on the stone, cool under his palm. 

She squatted down beside him, and reaching, put her own pebble on the stone. It was what you did, he thought, stunned, when you came to visit the dead. You left a pebble to say you’d been there; that you hadn’t forgotten. 

His own pebble was still in his other hand; he couldn’t quite bring himself to lay it down. Tears were running down his face, and his mother’s hand was on his arm. 

“It’s all right, a duine,” she said softly. “Go to your young woman. Ye’ll always be here wi’ us.” 

The steam of his tears rose like the smoke of incense from his heart, and he laid the pebble gently on his daughter’s grave. Safe among his family. 

It wasn’t until many days later, in the middle of the ocean, that he realized his mother had called him a man.

An Echo in the Bone 

Give A Little Love

For Ely– happy birthday darling!  You are such a beautiful beautiful person, and you deserve all the love in the world <3 

(This is basically a love letter to Jonathan Byers and I don’t regret it at all, especially considering the stunt I pulled for Death Day.)
Title comes from the Noah & The Whale song of the same title: “And my love is my whole being, and I’ve shared what I could.  But if you give a little love, you can get a little love of your own.”

“Steve Harrington, if you steal one more of my french fries, I’m going to shoot you.” Nancy glared at Steve over her drink.  Steve chuckled and flopped back onto the grass, chewing happily.

“Why do I get the feeling you’ve threatened me with that before?” he responded cheekily, and Nancy threw a fry at him petulantly.  It landed in his hair, and Steve didn’t hesitate before snatching it and popping it into his mouth, looking smug.  Nancy made a noise of disgust before leaning back against Jonathan.

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