I swear, I am going to go apeshit if I see or hear one more person call Gordy a monkey. It is my biggest pet peeve in engaging with any media discussing Nope.

Hate at First Sight

“Baby, I dunno as it’s the best idea to bring Buttons.” Ember gazed at her oldest daughter, the large yellow snake already draped around her shoulders in a manner that was quite familiar to everyone in their family, but probably wouldn’t be to some of the others attending the party they were going to. If it had simply just been direct relations, the story would be a great deal different, but the fact of the matter was, Buttons wasn’t exactly your every day pet. Ever since Maggie had gotten her at the age of eight though, she and that snake had been glued together, never seeming to part for even a moment, even when the redhead was in the bathroom. It was as if they were two halves of the same whole and it had been difficult even sending the child to school for the first time without Buttons. That had lasted three days. Three days of tearful phone calls later and Anne had apparated before marching right up to the school with Buttons in order to speak face-to-face with the Headmistress. Ember still didn’t know what her wife had said in order to get an exception made on the exotic pet, but when it came to their children, Anne had no patience for tomfoolery, especially when it came to their animals. Having grown up on a farm, Anne was much more in tune with the delicate connections between human and creature than Ember was, who had been willing to maybe see if Maggie could make it perhaps just a little longer without her snake. She hated hearing the pain in her darling girl’s voice, but had accepted that it was something she just needed a little more time on to get used to, as all children do when leaving home for the first time. David had cried during his first week away at school, as had Danny, though he’d never admit it, and god forbid poor Ophelia. She had been so distraught on the train platform that the boys had to literally peel her off her father to get her boarded, but even she had grown used to school and been just fine in the end. Ember was fairly certain she had cried more than either of the boys, missing her sons in the house and having been overly elated to have them home when winter break had finally arrived after what felt like an incredibly long few months. It had been just as hard with Maggie.

“But Mam, Mum said I could.” Maggie frowned, stroking at Buttons’ head gently. The creature hung down over her shoulders, but had lifted up to rest her chin on top of Maggie’s red mane. It was much more well kept than Ember’s ever had been, despite being the same color. Maggie was much more subdued than either of her mothers, a gentle soul who enjoyed being out doors in the garden and spending copious amounts of time with the various animals they kept. Their ‘farm’ was smaller than the one Anne had grown up on, boasting a single cow, three goats, an adorable pig, a whole flock of chickens, two horses, two sheep, and a an old donkey. This wasn’t including their dog, George, or the countless number of cats that seemed to find their way into the house next door or took up refuge in the barn depending on their preferences, and of course, Ophelia’s fox who was still as rambunctious as ever. Maggie also had several other smaller creatures kept in tanks in the bedroom she shared with her younger sister, Violette. There was a tortoise, a couple of small lizards, and of course, Buttons. She had always been more taken with reptiles than anything else for some reason, enjoying their company the most despite them not being fuzzy. Not that you’d ever be able to tell by looking at her.

Maggie, or Magnolia Elizabeth, as she had been named at birth, had always been much more… girly, than either of her mothers could have imagined her being. She had been dead set on always wearing pretty things since she was little. Dresses with ruffles and lacy frills, shiny boots and shoes, tights and hair ribbons. Her grandmother had been over the moon when she realized she finally had someone who would actually wear all the old dresses she had tried to put on Ember when she’d been small. Of course, Meghan had also put them on her other granddaughters, but Cordelia had revolted and Ophelia had always wanted to wear the pink, pink, and pink ones, leaving the blues and greens behind. But Maggie, that darling girl, would play dress up to the point of several outfit changes a day. Even now, at fourteen, the girl had chosen a white frock embroidered with colorful flowers and short lace sleeves. Her long red hair hung down her back in perfectly done up curls, pinned back from her face with several sparkling barrettes. A straw hat was clasped in one hand, the ribbon around it white lace today to match, the shoes on her feet chunky sandals with two-inch heels which was as high as her mothers would allow Maggie to wear at her age. She had already surpassed Anne in height and would probably do the same to Ember if she kept growing at the current rate she was going. Meghan was decently tall and David had been as well, so it wasn’t particularly surprising.

“She did, did she?” Ember sighed, rubbing at her temples a bit. Of course Anne would think it was perfectly alright to bring an eight-foot snake along to a party. Anne had no sense of what was and wasn’t acceptable as far as animals were concerned, nor the idea that certain creatures might possibly make some people rather uncomfortable. Ember understood how she and Maggie felt, but at the same time… “Baby, Mum lets Tits sleep in bed with us sometimes, she’s not exactly-”

“What’s wrong with Tits sleeping in bed?” Maggie asked, tilting her head to one side, not really able to see the issue as to why a cow shouldn’t be allowed in the house for snuggles. Mrs. Milkietits was one of the sweetest creatures on their small farm and Maggie loved her dearly to the point where if her bed had been big enough she would have gladly shared with her. Unfortunately, when one only has a twin sized bed and a large snake that insists on sleeping with you, it was a bit difficult to add any other potential guests. Even George had to wiggle his way in now that Buttons had grown to nearly her full anticipated length. Maggie had told just one little fib when she’d been young, a promise that Buttons ‘won’t get that much bigger’ despite definitely knowing better by that point. At eight she had been hell bent on getting a big, big, big snake, but at the time, Buttons had merely been about two feet long. Surely an easy enough pet so long as she was taken care of properly. When she’d hit about four feet long, Ember had asked Maggie again, how long her snake was getting and this time, her daughter had told the truth. Potentially nine feet, but at least Buttons was a nice snake. “Violette gets to sleep in the house every night and she’s not nearly as well behaved as Tits.”

“Am too!” Violette shouted, racing into the room wearing nothing but her bathing suit, her strawberry blonde locks a mess that looked as if it had once been tamed but disrupted shortly afterwards. At nine, Violette had settled a little bit from when she’d been smaller, but definitely not by much. She was still wild and untameable but had become more aware that her actions did, in fact, tend to have consequences occasionally. Not completely, of course, but enough that she sometimes, on occasion, did think before she did something.

“Where are your shorts?”

“Shorts are overrated!” Violette shouted, booking it out the back sliding door of the kitchen and into the yard. Maggie shook her head, laughing at her sister’s antics. Violette never wanted to wear clothes that restricted any kind of movement. She would spend her entire day in bathing suits or leotards during the warmer months, occasionally topping them off with tutus or sports shorts. When they had been a bit younger, Maggie and Violette had preferred always dressing completely alike, matching outfits and hairdos. That had changed a good bit once Maggie had started Hogwarts and Violette was left to her own devices. Now they didn’t tend to match unless they were doing some kind of family photo or it was Christmas time.

“Violette Eveleen, you need to put on some actual clothing before our guests get here.” Ember called out the door before turning her attention back to her much more tame daughter. She sighed, eyeing the snake. “Alright, but keep your eye on her and if she scares anyone, bring her back up to the house.”

“Got it.” Maggie beamed, glad to have been given total permission on her snake. She turned her head, kissing at the scaly beast’s belly as her mam took off after Violette, not as fast as she usually was. snatching dry clothes off the laundry line as she went. Maggie watched them for a moment before putting her hat on and heading outside to try and help wrangle her sister. Her mother wasn’t supposed to be running about like she was used to, her slowly growing stomach already hanging out from underneath one of her normal tank tops, the sports shorts she wore hanging on for dear life on her hips. One more baby, her mother had said. Just one more now that Mammy was cured of her lycanthropy, one of the first of her kind to have ever been given such a gift. It had been a startling, wonderful thing the first night their Great Uncle Alphie hadn’t turned, and then, when Mam hadn’t done so the next month. Mummy had finally done it and soon the cure had been administered to Grampa and then Uncle Max and his son, taking away the painful transformations that had plagued them all for so many years. Maggie, personally, was excited to have a new little sibling despite knowing she would probably be away at school when they were born. She was hoping they wouldn’t be nearly as wild as Violette was though.

After letting Buttons down onto the grass, Maggie was able to grab her sister just as she made a corner around the large swing set they had all spent so many hours playing on throughout the years. Uncle Coal had built it before Maggie had even been thought of and it held up beautifully, but it also gave Violette plenty of places to try and escape. She howled as a Maggie lifted her into the air and Ember shoved shorts up her legs, buttoning them in place despite her daughter’s displeasure. Usually, there wouldn’t be any kind of issue with Violette scampering about in just her bathing suit, but today was special and they were having over actual people they didn’t know super well. At least, some of them. Maggie was quite familiar with Addie, her cousin Gulliver’s girlfriend who had been visiting for years at this point, but she hadn’t ever met the older girl’s family properly before. They were coming, along with some other members of the Weasley clan, for a good bye party for the pair. Gully and Adelaide were to be leaving tomorrow afternoon, heading out on a great adventure to the other side of the world to attend a magical performing arts university in New York. Maggie was pretty certain her Auntie Eveleen had been crying over it already despite the fact that she had four other children to look after still. Well, two once Hogwarts started back up next week, there would be more tears when Madeline boarded the train for the very first time this year.

With Violette dressed and her snake back on her shoulders, Maggie took her little sister’s hand and they headed through the gate into their grandmother’s back yard and then, over to the long path that would take them to the large field through the woods. It was where they did all of their celebrations and where the kids liked to play a lot when they were old enough to be out of sight for longer periods of time. In the summer it was perfect, with the pond for swimming, the beachy bit lovely for building sandcastles, picnic tables for food, and a large area where they would, on occasion, build a bonfire full of many wonderful colors.

 Maggie released Violette when they reached the field, letting her sister run off to join Tennyson and Sawyer who were already sword fighting with a pair of sticks on the playground. With a sigh, Maggie headed for the lake, toeing off her sandals when she reached the shoreline. She slipped her woven bag off her shoulder and tugged out her towel, placing it down on a softer portion of grass for Buttons to sit on while Maggie flopped down beside her, pulling out a book to read for a while. Behind her, family members were already finishing up tying balloons down to the tables and setting out food platters. The door to the storage shed nearby creaked and Maggie looked up, but it was only her brother Danny carrying some floats, his cheeks red from the sun… or from the brunette trailing along after him, her own face pink as she looked down at her feet. Maggie giggled but didn’t say a word as she returned to her book for the time being.

All is fair in Love & War - 7

Pairing: Loki x reader Content: Less angst, some lewd undertones....actually it might be more than undertones. What I’m trying to say is that the “do will be done” at some point in this chapter and you might get to read some of that. K? Also...I’ve not done any corrective readings on this, sorry (I know, bad me).

7. Getting into shape

Daily walks with Loki helps rebuild some of your constitution, and each time the god notices improvement, he finds some task or exercise for you to undertake. Although some chores are less tempting, you don’t mind because it gives you something to do, not to mention a chance to understand the way of life in Utgard.

The new task of the day is even one you have been hoping to be given. Standing in the stables with a pitchfork and a wheelbarrow, the joy of working with or near animals is bubbling within you, making you giddy as you look up at the giant black horse. Already, you have zoned out Loki and the conversation he is having with the stable boys in the guttural, rumbling language of the Jötuns – none of what they say makes any sense.

You had managed to sneak an apple from your breakfast tray, hiding it in the pocket of the dress you have been given to wear for menial tasks. It’s a bit big for you, clearly made for a Jötun who generally are of bigger stature. Maybe it is made for a child? Either way, the rough material is comforting to you because it is what you have been used to, and it is much warmer than the flimsy silk gowns which are not made for the winter that is settling over the kingdom.

A soft muzzle nudges your shoulder, making you realize that you have lost yourself in thoughts. Mumbling an apology, you give the horse the fruit and enjoy the loud munching, adding to the companionship by stroking the smooth neck of the beast. Even the strands of its mane are silky to the touch, threatening to sidetrack your thoughts again. The silent exasperation rolls through your lungs, then you begin the work.

Once upon a time when life was normal, you had become the one to tend to the larger animals of the little village although they were not shared property. But the three cows, one donkey, two mules, and a score sheep and goats mixed were easier tended to in a single herd, allowing more villagers to work at the quarry or tend to other tasks benefitting everyone in the tight-knit community. All hands were needed. From a young age, you spend full days in the pastures before the new enclosure stood finished, and after that your time was divided between the animals and seasonally dependant chores. You grew confident in the much larger beasts presence, learned to understand their behaviour as easily as if they spoke to you.

“Come on now,” you mumble to your new companion while nodding at the wet hay below the enormous hooves, “you don’t wanna step in that, do you?”

A huff and shameful shake of the mane provides the answer, and a nod to another corner of the stall is enough to get the stallion moving. He’s so gentle. Patting the creature as a way of showing your appreciation, you resume the work of cleaning out the dirty bedding.

Side-eyeing the black horse, you keep talking gently to him. “What do I even call you, huh? Can’t just call you any silly ol’ name…”

“His name is Magni.”

Maybe you manage to hide how the voice startles you. You hope so. There is no reason to look for who is answering you because even if you had not recognized Loki’s soft tone, there is still only one other who speaks your language. How long has he been standing so close, watching?

“Magni.” You stroke the horse’s flank before dumping the last pitchforkful into the wheelbarrow.

“One of the boys will take it from here.” Loki announces.

The secretive curl in his voice is slightly unsettling, creating a cool seed of worry in your guts that grows and begins to bloom as you follow the king of Jotunheim through the courtyard and out the heavy gates.

It is the first time you set foot outside the castle grounds during the day, and even the view from your chambers have not prepared you for the endlessness of the landscape on this side of the old fortress. Standing on top of a giant hill, the landscapes fall away in rolling waves of faded green dotted with shrubs and ragged cliffs on which lichen grow. Here and there is a birch tree, naked against the cold winds that flattens grass and whirls leaves towards the grey clouds that are hanging heavily above. Further off are the rivers and dark woods of evergreens. Whoah.

“Yes, it may appear a harsh or even unforgiving land to most, but I find Jotunheim holds a beauty best appreciated in the changing of the seasons.”

The comment could have been meant as bragging. It’s not. There might be a lot to learn about him because, truth be told, nothing you had been told had turned out to be right. Months around him had not proven quite as fruitful in terms of getting to know him as you had hoped, and yet…Oh! No! Not going there again! A warm knot is already forming in the pit of your belly, matched only by another heat in your cheeks. You don’t want to look over at him, nervous he might be watching you for any reactions. He may be an enigma to you, however, a suspicion that the god is able to read your mind is increasingly prevalent. He is in your mind, under your skin, appearing in dreams that have no business appearing let alone starting an aching need between you legs. So now you stand beside him, looking over the rolling hills of this wild, rugged kingdom and knowing that you cannot escape even if you tried because this world is an unforgiving one.

Outside the shielding walls of the keep, nothing keeps the wind away. Tearing at you clothes and hair, it sends a chill into your bones and a shiver is setting in.

“Here.” Loki wraps a cloak around your shoulders and fastens the clasp under your chin. “It is time you learn about the area.”

It is wonderful to be out and about despite the slight worry that creeps in as the two of you move away from the solid structure that has been your prison for soon two seasons. Thoughts are racing through your head, analyzing everything about the situation and any potential reasons might have for taking you out here. Kill me? No, he would not have a problem doing that at the keep, he has proven that before. Imprison me elsewhere? That would be impractical, considering how much time the tall man spends in your company. Have his way with me? The idea does not scare you as much as you do (that does frighten you, though), but either way it is still just as unlikely as murdering you. Each idea becomes more and more farfetched, granting you no peace. This is how it has been since Loki came back and practically saved you. Was that planned? Nothing in your world is right anymore, fueling a desperate determination to find out what is going on then. Maybe, as things begin to make sense, the strained tension will dissipate.

Rounding the top of the hill brings the forest visible from you windows into view. An arm is stretching for the keep and it is towards that that Loki now strides, his long legs carrying him so fast that you sometimes have to run a little bit to keep up – not that you are sure you really want to, but being left alone in a distinctively different land than your own is not anything you want either.

By the time you reach the trees, the first snowflakes of the winter are floating down from the leaden clouds to settle in your hair, on the cape. On the mosses that carpet the forest floor in shades not unlike Loki’s eyes when they flicker darkly each time they travel over your form. No, wait, I wasn’t going to think like that! Leafless birch and rowan are replaced by the spruce and fir that shield better from the cold but strengthens the shadows until the two of you are walking in perpetual dusk. It is all too easy to imagine the dangerous creatures roaming the woods, and it urges you to stay closer to the god leading the way. Thankfully, he has slowed down.

It feels like hours before he finally stops, making you bump into him because you no longer have been paying attention. For a second, you freeze with fear of what Loki will do as he reaches out to you, but he only wraps an arm around your waist to pull you into his lap as he sits. There is no part of your body that does not ache. Knees are weak. Finally. Looking around, you see the seat is simply a large, flat stone placed almost perfectly in a circle of taller granites shaped by rough carvings. Old figures are staring down with empty eyes below horns that turn into ridges creating swirling patterns adorning their naked bodies. Naked bodies with surprisingly detailed…parts. Though you are no virgin, it still makes you blush.

“Makes one think, does it not?” Loki asks playfully, his hand drifting to your thigh, and you watch it with apprehension. “These are ancient carvings made by the ancestors of the Jötun. My people.”

Before your very eyes, the hand of the god changes. Transforms. The fingers grow a bit longer…or maybe it is the entire hand that grows? It does not matter, though, because there are other alterations: skin grows blue like cobalt and dark lines appear before rising into ridges. For a moment, your eyes flash to the crude statues then back to find that the nails now are black and claw-like.

“Look at me, [Y/N].” Loki begs softly.

A deep breath steels you, making it possible to turn to face the Jötun. There are no horns adorning his brows though the ridges are a bit more prominent. His eyes. Black pupils in an endless see of dark red. Orbs of blood. I’ve seen this before. Vague memories attempt to claw back to the surface, but they do not bring the same terror that you once associated with Loki’s strange nature. Instead, you find him strikingly handsome. Every trait that have haunted your dreams as forbidden desires are enhanced, mixing with a raw tenderness as he exposes what must be his true form to you.

A small frown fails to wrinkle the ridges on his forehead. “You do not fear me?”

“I’m sure you can be…ermm…scary like a monster if angered, but…” You hesitate in order to make sure. “No…I don’t fear you because of…this…” With a vague wave of a hand, you gesture his appearance.

Watching his lips curl in a smile adds to the confusion in your body. He looks truly happy, reminding you of how rarely you have seen joy in his eyes. Your hand cups his face before you know it, the thumb stroking a chiseled cheekbone. This is his real form. It should be frightening, as he suspected. The reaction is far from that, instead showing itself as a warm knot in the pit of your belly and an insistent tugging at your heartstrings.

I should know better. The words are meaningless. Stretching, you brush your lips against his. Heat meeting cold and your breaths mingling as the kiss deepens. Loki inhales sharply when you run your fingers through the dark strands to pull him closer, and you grab the opportunity to slip your tongue in.

He has you straddling him soon enough. Blue and, to you, normal coloured hands are tugging at clothes, searching for skin to mark and explore in any way possible. More. The aching need between you legs is back, followed by a dampness that begs for contact and has you fumbling with belts and buckles to free his manhood until he stops you by reaching his goal first. Shivers race through your limbs as long, cold digits delve between the folds, spreading the slick and making you moan breathlessly by the time he reaches the sensitive nub. More. Suddenly, you can only hold on, hands fisting his black hair and teeth digging into his shoulder to maintain a semblance of decency.

You are gasping shamelessly when he finally retracts is fingers from inside you to undo his belt. More.An insatiable craving is eating away at you as you watch him free his cock (also blue and with smaller ridges tracing spiral patterns along the shaft), and you have your hands wrapped around it as soon as you can. Exploring. Pumping gently until his head falls back and he groans softly. More. Nimble and determined, you reposition yourself to slide him in. Slowly. The cold of his erection soothing the stretch.

Five surprising ways people have used (and are still using) bones

Some people use bones as macabre decor, but they're good for so much more. (Artem Maltsev via Unsplash/)

For February, we’re focusing on the body parts that shape us, oxygenate us, and power us as we take long walks on the beach. Bony bonafide bones. These skeletal building blocks inspire curiosity and spark fear in different folks—we hope our stories, covering everything from surgeries and supplements to good old-fashioned boning, will only do the first. Once you’ve thoroughly blasted your mind with bone facts, check out our previous themed months: muscle and fat.

Imagine sitting down to a meal of ground-up bone, served on a plate made of burned bones, while two musicians—one rattling two sawed-off ribs together and the other ominously shaking part of a horse’s skull—provide grim ambience in the dim candlelight. Off in the corner, an oracle shoves some bones into a fire in an effort to predict whether the crops you just fertilized with shattered bones will yield a hearty harvest.

It might feel like you’re in the opening scene of the latest binge-worthy adaptation of a popular fantasy series, but this is real life. Or, at least, it would be if you mashed everything you’re about to read into one time period.

Humans have found unique uses for skeletal remains since prehistoric times. You may be familiar with bone arrowheads, fish hooks, and jewelry, but you may be surprised to learn how bones have found their way into the everyday lives of both ancient and modern people. Let’s journey beyond the grave.

Musical instruments

There are plenty of musical instruments that look like bones or include bones as part of their design. For example, artist Bruce Mahalski and guitar maker David Gilberd teamed up to build a bone guitar that features about 35 skulls. Super metal, yes, but not quite bony enough. It’s still, at its heart, a guitar.

On display at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, this 1856 portrait of "The Bone Player" shows how a skilled musician might hold the instrument. (William Sidney Mount/)

For instruments straight-up made out of bone, two stand out: the aptly named “bones” and the jawbone. Even if you only listen to the latest pop songs, it’s possible you’ve heard the former without realizing it. In 1949, Freeman Davis, known as “Brother Bones,” recorded a version of the Jazz Age standard “Sweet Georgia Brown,” which found widespread fame after the Harlem Globetrotters picked it up as their theme song three years later.

You’re more likely to find them made out of wood today, but in their most basic form, bones are a pair of animal rib bones—usually sheep or cow— cut down to between 5 and 7 inches long. Players hold them between their fingers, curved sides facing each other, and knock them together with deft flicks of their wrists. Like skilled tap dancers, experts can create a vast range of percussive sounds.

The bones have their roots in traditional Irish and Scottish music, and immigrants from those countries brought them to America, where they found a home in bluegrass and other folk genres. They’re similar to other clacking percussion instruments like the spoons, the Chinese paiban, and castanets.

The jawbone, meanwhile, is originally an African instrument that made its way to the Americas as a result of the slave trade. It’s usually the jawbone of a horse or another equine (like a donkey or zebra), that’s been stripped of all flesh and dried.

Once it’s dry, the teeth become so loose they rattle around in their sockets. But it’s more than a simple rattle—players can create other sounds by striking the jawbone with a stick or rubbing the wood across its teeth.

It’s a little more niche, but you may have also heard the sound of a jawbone without realizing it—the vibraslap, patented in 1969 by Martin B. Cohen, was designed to sound exactly like it. Cohen said in his patent application that he’d found it hard to replace actual jawbones when they break.

Fortune telling

The original users of these bones hoped they'd foretell the future. (Deborah Harding, Carnegie Museum of Natural History/)

Yeah, you’ve heard of necromancy, and probably pyromancy. Now, get ready for scapulimancy and plastromancy. Relatives of pyromancy, these two divination practices involve writing questions on bones (usually large animal shoulder bones or turtle plastrons), heating them up until they crack, and then interpreting the cracks.

How they were heated is unclear and likely varied. Some sources simply mention fire, while others describe diviners inserting hot metal rods into holes drilled in the bones.

These practices weren’t restricted to any particular region, either, and ancient people worldwide had their own versions. Inhabitants of Europe, western Asia, and North Africa simply inspected the natural condition of the bone after all flesh was scraped away, but those who lived in North America and other parts of Asia used fire, according to David N. Keightley, a former professor of Chinese history at the University of California, Berkeley.

Perhaps the most well-preserved oracle bones come from China, most of which date back to the Shang dynasty (1600-1046 BCE). About 20,000 pieces (mostly ox scapulae and turtle plastrons) were dug up between 1928 and 1937 during official excavations around the dynasty’s capital city of Yinxu, about 300 miles southwest of modern-day Beijing. Most turned out to be predictions performed for the royal family. This discovery, among others, helped Chinese archaeologist Li Ji prove that the Shang dynasty actually existed.

The Carnegie Museum of Natural History in Pittsburgh has a large collection of these bones in storage for research purposes. Amy Covell-Murthy, who manages the museum’s archaeology collection, said the inscriptions on their bones ask questions like whether or not someone will have a baby, which crops to plant in a field, or how a war will turn out. She also said some are fakes, but that they still hold value because they’re at least 100 years old themselves.

Bone china

Unlike true porcelain, which contains only minerals, the ceramic material known as bone china includes bone ash. It originated in England in the 1700s and for a long time, most, if not all, bone china was made there.

A few potters and companies experimented with bone ash as they sought to bulk up their soft-paste porcelain to rival the stronger hard-paste ceramics made in China, but Josiah Spode I is generally understood to have been the one who standardized bone china production. When he died, his son, Josiah Spode II, took over and continued to improve on his father’s work.

Today, bone china is made across the globe by companies such as Lenox, which has made numerous pieces for presidents dating back to 1918, and the Spode family’s eponymous business, Spode.

Fertilizer

Plants love to eat bones. Hardcore. (CDC via Unsplash/)

All living things need phosphorus, and bones have a lot of it. This is why bone meal, as ground-up bones are called, has found its calling as plant fertilizer. Without phosphorus, plants can’t function, can’t grow, and can’t photosynthesize, says Dennis Stevenson, vice president for science at the New York Botanical Garden. Bone meal is also high in calcium, which plants need for their cell walls.

But with its benefits come some potential problems. Health experts say some bone meal can be high in lead, and possibly also mercury. It’s also got a bit of a dark history in the U.S., dating back to the near-total destruction of the American bison.

The hunting of these thousand-pound animals was driven by their highly prized skins, but also by the U.S. government, which promoted hunting in an effort to starve Native Americans and force them onto reservations. Hunters would kill and skin bison, but often left the carcasses littering the Great Plains. As settlers moved west, they began picking them up and selling them to use as fertilizer.

Gelatin and glue

The revelation that gelatin is made out of animal parts is a common one. But the simple fact that everyone seems to have this somewhat traumatic revelation at some point in their lives made it seem relevant for this list. If you already know this, great—maybe you’ll learn something new here anyway. And if you didn’t, now you do, and you can reveal it to others in your life.

Most gelatin is made from the byproducts of the meat and leather industries, usually bones and skin. In its purest form, it’s 98 to 99 percent protein and is nearly tasteless and odorless. Its use dates back to the medieval era, and because it was hard to make, it was originally just for rich families.

Today, it’s still pretty complicated to make, but industry has taken much of the hands-on labor out of it. According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, the 20-week process for making gelatin out of cattle bones starts like this: The bones are crushed and cooked at 180 to 250 degrees Fahrenheit before being spun in a centrifuge, dried at 160 to 270 degrees, degreased, and treated for five to seven days with a weak hydrochloric acid solution.

Then, the ground-up bones are washed several times with water and treated with a lime slurry (not the tasty tropical kind) for one to two months in an effort to remove everything that’s not collagen. After that, the almost-gelatin is washed again, made more acidic, and may be filtered. Finally, its pH is made more neutral (between 5 and 7), it’s sterilized at 280 to 290 degrees for several seconds, cooled, and dried with hot air for 1 to 3 hours.

This stuff ends up in obvious foods like gummies, but can also be used in a wide variety of ways to stabilize, thicken, and add texture to the things we eat. It’s also used to make modern film.

Gelatin and animal glue are closely related, though use of the latter has largely disappeared. At least as late as the early 2000s, gelatin-based glues were used to stick those “organic” stickers on fruits and vegetables, the USDA says.

Animal glue has a long history, and in 2014 researchers found that it was used to hold together the painted layers of Chinese emperor Qin Shi Huang’s massive terracotta army. It was used worldwide until the early 1900s, but was essentially eliminated by the invention of synthetic adhesives.

Five surprising ways people have used (and are still using) bones

Some people use bones as macabre decor, but they're good for so much more. (Artem Maltsev via Unsplash/)

For February, we’re focusing on the body parts that shape us, oxygenate us, and power us as we take long walks on the beach. Bony bonafide bones. These skeletal building blocks inspire curiosity and spark fear in different folks—we hope our stories, covering everything from surgeries and supplements to good old-fashioned boning, will only do the first. Once you’ve thoroughly blasted your mind with bone facts, check out our previous themed months: muscle and fat.

Imagine sitting down to a meal of ground-up bone, served on a plate made of burned bones, while two musicians—one rattling two sawed-off ribs together and the other ominously shaking part of a horse’s skull—provide grim ambience in the dim candlelight. Off in the corner, an oracle shoves some bones into a fire in an effort to predict whether the crops you just fertilized with shattered bones will yield a hearty harvest.

It might feel like you’re in the opening scene of the latest binge-worthy adaptation of a popular fantasy series, but this is real life. Or, at least, it would be if you mashed everything you’re about to read into one time period.

Humans have found unique uses for skeletal remains since prehistoric times. You may be familiar with bone arrowheads, fish hooks, and jewelry, but you may be surprised to learn how bones have found their way into the everyday lives of both ancient and modern people. Let’s journey beyond the grave.

Musical instruments

There are plenty of musical instruments that look like bones or include bones as part of their design. For example, artist Bruce Mahalski and guitar maker David Gilberd teamed up to build a bone guitar that features about 35 skulls. Super metal, yes, but not quite bony enough. It’s still, at its heart, a guitar.

On display at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, this 1856 portrait of "The Bone Player" shows how a skilled musician might hold the instrument. (William Sidney Mount/)

For instruments straight-up made out of bone, two stand out: the aptly named “bones” and the jawbone. Even if you only listen to the latest pop songs, it’s possible you’ve heard the former without realizing it. In 1949, Freeman Davis, known as “Brother Bones,” recorded a version of the Jazz Age standard “Sweet Georgia Brown,” which found widespread fame after the Harlem Globetrotters picked it up as their theme song three years later.

You’re more likely to find them made out of wood today, but in their most basic form, bones are a pair of animal rib bones—usually sheep or cow— cut down to between 5 and 7 inches long. Players hold them between their fingers, curved sides facing each other, and knock them together with deft flicks of their wrists. Like skilled tap dancers, experts can create a vast range of percussive sounds.

The bones have their roots in traditional Irish and Scottish music, and immigrants from those countries brought them to America, where they found a home in bluegrass and other folk genres. They’re similar to other clacking percussion instruments like the spoons, the Chinese paiban, and castanets.

The jawbone, meanwhile, is originally an African instrument that made its way to the Americas as a result of the slave trade. It’s usually the jawbone of a horse or another equine (like a donkey or zebra), that’s been stripped of all flesh and dried.

Once it’s dry, the teeth become so loose they rattle around in their sockets. But it’s more than a simple rattle—players can create other sounds by striking the jawbone with a stick or rubbing the wood across its teeth.

It’s a little more niche, but you may have also heard the sound of a jawbone without realizing it—the vibraslap, patented in 1969 by Martin B. Cohen, was designed to sound exactly like it. Cohen said in his patent application that he’d found it hard to replace actual jawbones when they break.

Fortune telling

The original users of these bones hoped they'd foretell the future. (Deborah Harding, Carnegie Museum of Natural History/)

Yeah, you’ve heard of necromancy, and probably pyromancy. Now, get ready for scapulimancy and plastromancy. Relatives of pyromancy, these two divination practices involve writing questions on bones (usually large animal shoulder bones or turtle plastrons), heating them up until they crack, and then interpreting the cracks.

How they were heated is unclear and likely varied. Some sources simply mention fire, while others describe diviners inserting hot metal rods into holes drilled in the bones.

These practices weren’t restricted to any particular region, either, and ancient people worldwide had their own versions. Inhabitants of Europe, western Asia, and North Africa simply inspected the natural condition of the bone after all flesh was scraped away, but those who lived in North America and other parts of Asia used fire, according to David N. Keightley, a former professor of Chinese history at the University of California, Berkeley.

Perhaps the most well-preserved oracle bones come from China, most of which date back to the Shang dynasty (1600-1046 BCE). About 20,000 pieces (mostly ox scapulae and turtle plastrons) were dug up between 1928 and 1937 during official excavations around the dynasty’s capital city of Yinxu, about 300 miles southwest of modern-day Beijing. Most turned out to be predictions performed for the royal family. This discovery, among others, helped Chinese archaeologist Li Ji prove that the Shang dynasty actually existed.

The Carnegie Museum of Natural History in Pittsburgh has a large collection of these bones in storage for research purposes. Amy Covell-Murthy, who manages the museum’s archaeology collection, said the inscriptions on their bones ask questions like whether or not someone will have a baby, which crops to plant in a field, or how a war will turn out. She also said some are fakes, but that they still hold value because they’re at least 100 years old themselves.

Bone china

Unlike true porcelain, which contains only minerals, the ceramic material known as bone china includes bone ash. It originated in England in the 1700s and for a long time, most, if not all, bone china was made there.

A few potters and companies experimented with bone ash as they sought to bulk up their soft-paste porcelain to rival the stronger hard-paste ceramics made in China, but Josiah Spode I is generally understood to have been the one who standardized bone china production. When he died, his son, Josiah Spode II, took over and continued to improve on his father’s work.

Today, bone china is made across the globe by companies such as Lenox, which has made numerous pieces for presidents dating back to 1918, and the Spode family’s eponymous business, Spode.

Fertilizer

Plants love to eat bones. Hardcore. (CDC via Unsplash/)

All living things need phosphorus, and bones have a lot of it. This is why bone meal, as ground-up bones are called, has found its calling as plant fertilizer. Without phosphorus, plants can’t function, can’t grow, and can’t photosynthesize, says Dennis Stevenson, vice president for science at the New York Botanical Garden. Bone meal is also high in calcium, which plants need for their cell walls.

But with its benefits come some potential problems. Health experts say some bone meal can be high in lead, and possibly also mercury. It’s also got a bit of a dark history in the U.S., dating back to the near-total destruction of the American bison.

The hunting of these thousand-pound animals was driven by their highly prized skins, but also by the U.S. government, which promoted hunting in an effort to starve Native Americans and force them onto reservations. Hunters would kill and skin bison, but often left the carcasses littering the Great Plains. As settlers moved west, they began picking them up and selling them to use as fertilizer.

Gelatin and glue

The revelation that gelatin is made out of animal parts is a common one. But the simple fact that everyone seems to have this somewhat traumatic revelation at some point in their lives made it seem relevant for this list. If you already know this, great—maybe you’ll learn something new here anyway. And if you didn’t, now you do, and you can reveal it to others in your life.

Most gelatin is made from the byproducts of the meat and leather industries, usually bones and skin. In its purest form, it’s 98 to 99 percent protein and is nearly tasteless and odorless. Its use dates back to the medieval era, and because it was hard to make, it was originally just for rich families.

Today, it’s still pretty complicated to make, but industry has taken much of the hands-on labor out of it. According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, the 20-week process for making gelatin out of cattle bones starts like this: The bones are crushed and cooked at 180 to 250 degrees Fahrenheit before being spun in a centrifuge, dried at 160 to 270 degrees, degreased, and treated for five to seven days with a weak hydrochloric acid solution.

Then, the ground-up bones are washed several times with water and treated with a lime slurry (not the tasty tropical kind) for one to two months in an effort to remove everything that’s not collagen. After that, the almost-gelatin is washed again, made more acidic, and may be filtered. Finally, its pH is made more neutral (between 5 and 7), it’s sterilized at 280 to 290 degrees for several seconds, cooled, and dried with hot air for 1 to 3 hours.

This stuff ends up in obvious foods like gummies, but can also be used in a wide variety of ways to stabilize, thicken, and add texture to the things we eat. It’s also used to make modern film.

Gelatin and animal glue are closely related, though use of the latter has largely disappeared. At least as late as the early 2000s, gelatin-based glues were used to stick those “organic” stickers on fruits and vegetables, the USDA says.

Animal glue has a long history, and in 2014 researchers found that it was used to hold together the painted layers of Chinese emperor Qin Shi Huang’s massive terracotta army. It was used worldwide until the early 1900s, but was essentially eliminated by the invention of synthetic adhesives.

Dragons Existed (and summary of Job)

Once upon a time there was a man called Job. Strange name, I know, but I for one have always imagined it to be pronounced as “Jobe“. Anyway, back to the story, Job had a pretty good life. Wealthy, eight kids. He lived a long time ago so when I say wealth I mean 7000 sheep, 3000 camels, 500 oxen (basically cows that were used like work horses), 500 donkeys and a large number of servants.

Now, there was a reason behind his wealth and overall wonderful life. He feared the Lord. Now, fear is probably a strong word, but it is accurate. Let me put this into context for you: If I go to a zoo and look at the tigers, I’ll admire them and watch them prowl through the grass thinking ‘What a magnificent creature‘, and I’ll do all of that most likely in a state of mystified wonder.

At a distance.

I am not going to jump the fence and risk life and limb to pet the ‘adorable kitty‘. How much more terrifying (and I mean this word wholeheartedly) is the Creator of the Entire world?

Before you started panicking and/or getting upset, I don’t mean you should start shaking in your boots. I just mean that God is awesome. I’m not talking about awesome as in the word we use now as a upgraded version of ‘cool’ or ‘sweet‘, I mean awesome as in the original definition, like, ‘adjective: causing or inducing awe; inspiring an overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration, or fear‘.

You know, that feeling when you see the world around you and realise that everyone else has thoughts and feelings just like you, people that they care about(or people they don’t), jobs, a home, a life just as incredibly vibrant and intricate as your own. That feeling when you realise how very small you are, in this big, big world, so small and insignificant like all the people who never turned up in the history books, who lived and died and who no one remembered. You know what feeling I’m talking about, right? That one. That’s awe.

That feeling is what people mean when they say the fear of the Lord. Like an insect standing next to a mountain. It’s humbling.

Anyway, tangent over and context established, let’s get back to the story. So, Job feared the Lord, and his life was blessed for it. One day, Satan came before the Lord and challenged him, basically saying, “Of course Job fears God, after all, you’ve given him everything, protected him and showered him with riches. Why wouldn’t he praise you? But if you were to wipe out everything he has and destroy it, leaving him with nothing, he’ll turn his back on you and curse you to your face.“ God considered this, and said to the devil, “Very well, then. All he has in is your hands, but do not touch the man himself.“ (Job 1:12)

Challenged accepted.

On one, miserable day, Job proceeded to lose all his sheep, camels, oxen, donkeys, many of his servants and all eight of his children, his 5 sons and 3 daughters. This happened in mere minutes. It’s said that Job fell to the ground, saying:

”Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.“

Job 1:21

May the name of the Lord be praised. That sound like he was cursing God to you? Cause it sure doesn’t sound like it to me.

God:1 --- Satan:0

So the devil went of in a huff and decided to do some more scheming. He came back before the Lord again, the Lord saying to him:

“Have you considered my servant Job? There is no one on earth like him; he is blameless and upright, a man who fears God and shuns evil. And he still maintains his integrity, though you incited me against him to ruin him without any reason.“

“Skin for skin!“ Satan replied. “A man will give all he has for his own life. But stretch out your hand and strike his flesh and bones, and he will surely curse you to your face.“ (Job 2:3-4)

So, the Lord accepted his second challenge, and Satan left to pay poor Job a visit. You know what smallpox is? If not, go look up a picture. Though I’ll warn you, it’s not pretty. It’s said that Job was covered with painful sores from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. So imagine smallpox, maybe some eczema, as well as almost every skin condition known to man mixed together covering his entire body.

Ouch. That’s gotta hurt.

Even his wife said to him as he sat in the ashes, “Are you still holding on to your integrity? Curse God and die!“. His reply was something along the lines of, “Don’t be stupid. Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?“

Again, it doesn’t really sound like he’s turned his back on God, or like he’s cursing him.

God:2 --- Satan:0

Job then heads into some pretty deep depression, wishing that he had never been born, or that he had died at birth as a stillborn, etc, etc. His three friends came to sit with him, and starting talking. They said that he must have done something wrong and that God was punishing him for it, that he needed to repent, while Job was adamant that he didn’t do anything worthy of this.

So that conversation continued for a while, and I mean a while, when all of a sudden, they get interrupted. By God. Cause he is sick and tired of hearing these guys speak for him. So he decides to speak for himself, asking them where they were when he laid the earth’s foundation, when he created all living things. (Word of advice, unless you can be God and do his job, don’t argue with him.)

This goes on for a fair while. However, there is a section in God’s speech that catches my eye, at ‘Job 41:1-34′, when he speaks of the ‘Leviathan’, a sea-dwelling creature that is so fierce and terrifying that none dare go near. Its back is described as a row of shields, tightly sealed together. Honestly just sounds like scales to me. He talks of its strength and graceful form, its mouth ringed with fearsome teeth. So, crocodile maybe? At least you think so, until this next bit:

“Its snorting throws out flashes of light; its eyes are like the rays of dawn. Flames stream from its mouth; sparks of fire shoot out. Smoke pours from its nostrils as from a boiling pot over burning reeds. Its breath sets coals ablaze, and flames dart from its mouth.” (Job 41:18-21)

Flashes of light, sparks of fire, smoke? Its breath sets coals ablaze? Flames dart from its mouth? Does that sound like a crocodile to you?

I didn’t think so.

And that’s not even considering the next parts, which talks about how swords can’t pierce its skin, nor can spears or arrows or javelins. Iron is like straw to it, and bronze like rotten wood. I can snap rotten wood. I can not snap bronze. Arrows are more of an annoyance to it, and let’s not even talk about slingstones. And if you want an idea of it’s size:

“He makes the depths churn like a boiling caldron and stirs up the sea like a pot of ointment. Behind him he leaves a glistening wake; one would think the deep had white hair.”

“Nothing on earth is his equal - a creature without fear.” (Job 41:31-33)

So, yeah. Its a big, sea-dwelling reptile. A scary one. That shoots fire from its mouth. Conclusion?

It’s a sea dragon.

An actual dragon that breathes fire. Documented in the Bible. Well, unless you think crocodiles really are that terrifying, which, in case you didn’t know, they’re not. And if you’re wondering why we never found any fossils or evidence of them, the simple answer is, we have.

We just call them dinosaurs. Dinosaur as a word is actually only a few centuries old. Before that, they were just called dragons (Which means big lizards).

And if I say that dinosaurs breathed fire, who is here that can tell me I’m wrong? Were you there? Did you see them walk the earth? No, you didn’t.

But God did.

Dragons existed. You might know them by a different name, but, to quote Shakespeare, “that which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet”.

Oh, and if you’re wondering what happened to poor Job, Satan gave up and God gave him everything he had back, and blessed the latter part of his life more then the first, doubling what he had before. So, Job ended up with 1400 sheep, 6000 camels, 1000 oxen and a 1000 donkeys. He also had 10 more children, seven sons and three daughters. It was even said that nowhere in the land were women as beautiful as Job’s daughters.

He lived 140 years, and saw his children and their children all the way to the fourth generation.

And that’s the Story of Job.