#"Old Man North Pole"

[suitelifeoftravel]

Old Stone House, Slippery Rock, Pennsylvania

Over the weekend, we passed the Old Stone House in Slippery Rock several times that we made plans to stop by the house on our way back to Ohio.  The home, a two-story, six-bay structure made of sandstone was built by John Brown in 1822 and is today, a museum of rural life. Perfectly situated at the crossroads of the Pittsburgh-Franklin and Butler Mercer Pikes, it was the perfect location as a…

[bsd-bibliophile]

Happy Birthday Miyazawa Kenji-sensei!

To celebrate Miyazawa Kenji’s birthday here are his top three quotes from my blog:

Quote #3:

"That night, when the moon was near to sinking behind the western mountain range, it peeked its face out just enough from the bank of black clouds to fill the field with a last bit of dull, ashen light. The bare winter trees, the railroad ties, and the utility poles were all fast asleep. Only the sound of what could have been either the far-off blowing of the wind or the gurgling of a brook remained."

- Miyazawa Kenji, “Signal and Signal-less” from Night on the Galactic Railroad and Other Stories from Ihatov

Quote #2:

Be not defeated by the rain, Nor let the wind prove your better. Succumb not to the snows of winter. Nor be bested by the heat of summer.

Be strong in body. Unfettered by desire. Not enticed to anger. Cultivate a quiet joy. Count yourself last in everything. Put others before you. Watch well and listen closely. Hold the learned lessons dear.

A thatch-roof house, in a meadow, nestled in a pine grove’s shade.

A handful of rice, some miso, and a few vegetables to suffice for the day.

If, to the East, a child lies sick: Go forth and nurse him to health. If, to the West, an old lady stands exhausted: Go forth, and relieve her of burden. If, to the South, a man lies dying: Go forth with words of courage to dispel his fear. If, to the North, an argument or fight ensues: Go forth and beg them stop such a waste of effort and of spirit.

In times of drought, shed tears of sympathy. In summers cold, walk in concern and empathy.

Stand aloof of the unknowing masses: Better dismissed as useless than flattered as a “Great Man”.

This is my goal, the person I strive to become.

- Miyazawa Kenji, ”Be not Defeated by the Rain”

Quote #1:

You who go through rice paddies in the rain, you who hurry toward leviathan woods, you who walk into the gloom of clouds and mountains, fasten up your raincoat, damn it.

- Miyazawa Kenji, “Traveler” from Miyazawa Kenji: Selections

[christiansorrell]

Play-By-Blog #4: The Isle by Luke Gearing

Welcome to my ongoing play-by-blog of The Isle by Luke Gearing! We are playing this adventure with its original system, The Vanilla Game (adjusted somewhat to fit the format). You can check out the Play-By-Blog Repository to get all caught up if you wish.

How Play-By-Blog works:

I write up the situation, NPCs, and more, just like a DM.

You vote in the poll to help decide the character's course of action.

I roll the dice, resolve actions, and write them up next week.

So on and so forth for the rest of the adventure!

Notation:

[Text in brackets is out-of-character/GM text!] "Non-italicized quotes denote text from the original adventure!" "Italicized quotations denotes NPC dialogue."

Our character: Medon Girou - Magic Cutpurse

Our map: The Isle

[You can use the link's above to find Medon's Character Sheet and map of the Isle. On the map, you are currently at 4.]

Now, back to the adventure!

The monk is the first person you've seen on the actual isle, other than that corpse back in the mossy cove. Best to follow him from afar, you think. They may only be monks, but Cioran made it pretty clear that can be wary of outsiders, especially uninvited ones. You lay down amongst the rubble you searched through earlier in the day and watch the monk on his stroll.

He heads north, generally in your direction and away from the monastery for some time, before turning west and heading down a well worn path heading towards the sea. At a point, he falls out of your view as the path descends. It's time to approach and quietly tail him, if you can.

You cautiously step down the raised rocky region and into the area of the lower path, steps carefully as you go [Dexterity Check: 8 - Success!]. You keep a good distance and the short cliffs at either side are full of pockets to hide yourself away in. The monk continues on his path.

Closer now, you are able to see the man is younger, younger that you expected any of the monks to be on a forgotten monastery like this. He's carrying a long, fairly fine fishing pole, using it as a walking stick as he travels towards the cove [B] along the western coast. He's singing a shanty to himself:

"Oh, poor old man your horse will die And we say so, and we know so Oh, poor old man your horse will die Oh, poor old man "We'll hoist him up to the main yardarm We'll hoist him up to the main yardarm "Say, I old man your horse will die Say, I old man your horse will die "We'll drop him down to the depths of the sea We'll drop him down to the bottom of the sea "We'll sing him down with a long, long roll Where the sharks'll have his body and the devil have have his soul!"

A surprising song to hear from a godly man such as this.

You continue to trail him for a time until he enters the built-out and well-kept cove. He walks past a stockpile of stones and down a set of carves stairs towards the water below.

"This shallow cove shows extensive signs of recent improvement—some stone removed and a wooden jetty installed. The stairs are worn, but notably clean."

The monks moves some crates near the end of the jetty, creating a makeshift chair and table. From out of his pocket, he pulls a small leather pouch filled with dirt.... no wait, there are worms among the dirt. He settles in for a long afternoon of fishing, humming a song.

There's little of note in the cove, other than its well-maintained state. You imagine this is where Ciaron pulled the boat in after dropping you off early this morning. Supplies for the monastery come to the island here, but they do not stay here.

[The next entry will be in 1 full week since I've done a few now in a shorter time frame than that, just to get things moving. Thanks for following along and taking part in the adventure so far! - Christian]

PBB #5 is up now HERE!

[spartanexperience]

ANYWAY HERES WONDERWALL aka assorted Borethyia headcanons

- Orithyia's a hyperfocusing nerd. Once they get a heureka moment, she'll spend the whole night in their lab calculating alchemistical formulas, adding one magic substance after another to the potion brew. Sometimes, during thunderstorms, she'll climb up to the top of the mountain to hold up a metal pole, to gather energy from Zeus' lightning. How they're still alive is a miracle.

- She's like Basil of Baker Street in the sense that when failure happens, Orithyia gets absolutely depresso espresso and slumps down to their chair like "existence is a lie". Pride is their hubris, lord help them

- Boreas once came back from a 2-day trip of spreading snowstorms in Anatolia, and saw Orithyia STILL awake, furiously jotting down research notes despite having pulled 2 allnighters in a row. Needless to say he basically carried her on his shoulder like a bean bag to the bed like "YOU'RE GOING TO SLEEP N O W!!!!!" while Orithyia was squirming and screeching like a wet cat LMAO

- (He is already anxious that his beloved is a mortal who is probably kicking the bucket in 50 or less years. He doesnt want Orithyia to drop their lifespan down even more with reckless health choices)

- Boreas is a proud sapiosexual and wants to get railed silly every time he hears Orithyia call his windstorms a "thermodynamical atmospheric occurrence" (He's a bottom in my hcs. I saw his one episode of screentime in Spartan Experience and made the logical conclusion "yeah only a bottom talks like that" LMFAO)

- He is the Ancient Greek equivalent of a film/literature snob who consumes religiously Amphitheatre plays and poetry, and will rant to Orithyia for hours about how that one Oedipus adaptation in Corinth's theatre missed entirely the point of the tragedy, and that the manga was better. Orithyia's ears are only hearing VHS record buzz, but she's lovestruck every time to hear Boreas ramble about the stuff he is passionate about

- The two of them bicker like an old married couple. VERY OFTEN. Orethyia gets ticked by Boreas' pompous arrogance and Boreas gets ticked by Orethyia's sassy attitude. Tho deep down they both love the banter LMAO

- Boreas is a rather cold creature to hold - of course, being the god of winter and cold wind. However he's very soft and squishy, and Orithyia LOVES giving caresses to his chin, neck, etc. (sometimes by surprise, just to catch him off guard lmao) because his touchstarved ass melts entirely, and he enjoys resting his head in his nerdy human datemate's lap. When she starts playing with his whooshy hair, he combusts. He's a snobby prideful bitchass but that facade disappears entirely around Orithyia.

- Orithyia knows it and WILL tease him to hell and back about it. "Would you look at that... The ruthless north wind, helpless in a mere human's hands.... 😏😏😏💕💕💕" Boreas growls and mutters something about "Shut upppp...." but enjoys it. WAAAAY too much

- If she REALLY wants to go out on their way and rizz Boreas up, they start quoting poetry and plays that she memorized. Whispering it straight to Boreas' ear. "Pyramos, Pyramos, wherefore art thou??" Boreas lets out a whimper and blushes madly, closing his eyes in bliss. “Alas, the Love that falleth like a flood, / Strong-winged and transitory: / Why praise ye him? What beareth he of good / To man, or glory?” Boreas deflates like a balloon, is soft putty in her arms and probs wants to be fucked RIGHT NOW

- However he's aware that his touch is cold, and Orithyia can't possibly feel very comfortable while holding him. It makes him feel guilty - everything in his cloudy villa is freezing cold, and while he is VERY proud about his title as the cold, cruel North Wind, sometimes he wishes he could be like Hades or Apollo who radiate fire and warmth.

- One more reason why Orithyia wants to become immortal!! She wants to be able to fully cuddle up in Boreas' arms, without having to take a break every now and then to warm themselves up. (According to mythology, Orithyia later becomes the goddess of snow and mountain winds, but I don't wanna go to that route too easily in my Borethyia content. Plus I think Zeus doesn't hand out the God cards to mortals without a good enough reason LMAO so Orithyia def wants to first pursue with hard work all the ways they could be with Boreas eternally - either by reaching immortality or by becoming a hero and going to Elysium.)

- Insecurity is THE word when it comes to Boreas - he hides it behind his arrogant selfcentered attitude, but deep down he wonders often if Orithyia only likes him because they have not met anyone better yet. When she and Boreas met, Orithyia was the miserable, lonely housewife of the Athens politician, and they were only able to practice science in secrecy because their husband thought that a wife's place is at home. She fell in love with Boreas, the fascinating north wind that would swoop over Athens during winter to send windstorms - perfect for her secret meteorological research. But over time, Orithyia also came to love his snooty but adorably passionate and secretly soft, caring personality. However, what if they met other gods who were waaay nicer and easier persons to deal with?? Or gods forbid, an actual fellow human??

- He sometimes berates himself: WHY did he have to descend to Athens on that fateful day, when he spotted Orithyia reading about metrorology on their own balcony? If he had never gone to Athens, this would have never happened...and then, he feels another wave of guilt and self beration. What else was Boreas supposed to do, than save her away to the mountains? If he had never met her, they would still be with that cruel wretch of a husband!! He could never let that happen to his lovely Orithyia, who had so many dreams to pursue as a scientist.

- The best thing he could do, is to help her pursue the life of her dreams. Boreas actively tries to look for more scrolls, science equipment etc. that he can bring to Orithyia, during his travels around the Hellenic world. No matter if he will be soon left alone again once Orithyia dies inevitably, he wants her to at least have the best possible mortal life. Their happiness matters the most - to see that bright bucktoothed smile on her face.

- Orithyia, being the smart nerd that they are, notices what Boreas is doing and gods...their heart is so soft, grateful tears are in their eyes. They pull Boreas to deep passionate kisses, not caring how cold his lips feel against hers.

- Boreas is not the TOXIC kind of jealous boyfriend, but he can get possessive out of fear of abandonment, and glare at other gods who shoot looks at Orithyia. When he hears that Orithyia is gonna go and hang out with his other wind siblings to ask them about their powers, Boreas straight up starts manifesting a cranky hailstorm around him, and shoots menacing death glares at (a very confused) Zephyrus the whole time. Since he knows Zephyrus is a kind, gentle wind who's had many mortal and god partners, and is way more popular at Olympus. Orithyia notices, and snaps at Boreas about it, to stop being mean to his own little brother. Cue the two of them having an old fashioned couple fight, while Notus and Eurus watch with popcorn and play bets on who wins the argument SDJFJSKKS

- At least they can both agree that Sparta sucks

- (In my hcs, Boreas' father Astraeus aka Eos' first husband, was very close to his first son. But once the Titanomachy caused a rip in the fabric of the Aether, Astraeus decided to merge with the Chaos, to power up the starry space with his life force, so the world can keep existing. Basically, he sacrificed his own life. Out of all of Eos' children, Boreas was the most traumatized from losing his dad: death hits hard when you're immortal. So he isolates himself emotionally, and doesn’t let himself get attached to people. LET ALONE mortals. He stayed away when Eos romanced Tithonus and never warmed up to the mortal prince. And now, ARES of all people is trying to take Astraeus' place. So Boreas is pissed. He is the ruthless north wind anyway - it's his nature to destroy, not cherish. Let alone love!! Except oops, Eros pulled a pro gamer move on him and Orithyia)

- in contrast, Orithyia gets jealous and insecure easily too. She knows they're not a looker of a human - they're a scrawny little nerd with buckteeth and inexistent curves. Why would Boreas even look at their way?? Out of pity?? What exactly does he find so attractive in them? Orithyia often overachieves with their scientific research so they could impress Boreas and make him proud, even though the god of north wind already adores them more than anything. (Having a history of being in an abusive marriage with a husband who constantly belittled her doesn't help. Someone get the god of psychology, because these both need serious therapy JDJDKALLS)

- On a lighter note, Boreas may act like a pompous snob amongs the gods, but Orithyia pulls out his playful side. Occassionally, at the mountains, Orithyia catches him off guard by throwing a snowball at his back. Boreas grins evilly, and launches a whole ass barrage of snowballs that bury Orithyia into a snow pile LMFAO

- Remember the ending of Spartan Experience when Boreas was trapped inside a gigantic metal pipe? Yeah, once Herc yeeted his ass away, Orithyia found Boreas and spent several days in shenanigans trying to find ways to break their boyfriend free LMFAO (eventually they settled with melting the metal by using a red hot steel bar and caused a mountain fire by accident)

[gemwing1988]

Rugrats: Babies in Toyland ❄️🎄🎁🧸🚂

Warning, this will contain spoilers of the special so please read with care and enjoy.

Rugrats: Babies in Toyland, is my all time favourite Christmas Special in the entire franchise. It is very a fun and entertaining special filled with some festive baby adventures and it carries a pure message of learning the true meaning of Christmas.

The special tells us the story of Tommy and his friends celebrating his brother’s first Christmas and trying to make it special as well as keeping Dil happy.

This Christmas, the entire friends and families are heading off to visit Christmas Land, a winter wonderland designed by Stu, Dil and Tommy’s inventor father and endorsed by their Aunt Charolette’s company.

While celebrating Baby Dil’s first Christmas is the main plot, Angelica has her own story arc where she claims to be good all year, when in reality, she’s being completely naughty since the start of the episode where she scares off the Christmas carollers at hers cousins’ house, being rude to one of the staff members dressing as one of Santa’s elves and gong as far as gleefully lying to Tommy and his friends that if Dil doesn’t get a present the first time round, he’ll never have another Christmas for the rest of his life.

And she’s only digging herself deeper by driving the man who was hired to play as Santa to quit, making the kids think the real Santa Claus was calling it quits.

While Angelica had been a complete brat about the guy giving her a cute toy reindeer with a scarf plushy instead of what she had listed out what she actually wanted, I have to be honest, I did got out a few giggles when she exclaimed this following quote:

Angelica: You’ve got me a… MOOSE?!?! 😡

Meanwhile, while they were checking out the atheistic of an old pioneer cabin, the grown-ups get snowed in when Stu’s snow machine malfunctions and they try to think of a way to get out.

Back with the kids, when Kimi suggested that when “Santa” had quit, he had left all of the presents at his workshop back in the North Pole. Unfortunately, being the greedy and selfish little brat as she is, Angelica had no intention of sharing Christmas with the babies and wants all the presents to herself. She deliberately lies to the babies and directs them to the woods while she sneaks off to the North Pole on her own with Prancy the Reindeer as her only companion.

During a crazy yet cute fantasy of the babies getting involved in a scene from the Nutcracker, facing up against the wicked Mouse King and his mouse army, the babies gathered a few items they believed are presents: Chuckie finds a large Christmas walnut, Phil takes a ballet slipper from Clara (of course Lil did ask first) while Lil takes a ribbon and Kimi picks a small bell that Chuckie accidentally kicked off from the Mouse King’s neck (long story).

After making their escape, the babies encounter a lost goat under the belief he belongs to Santa and decided to take him with them.

While still trapped in the cabin, the adults soon start to learn the true meaning of Christmas while making decorations and roasting chestnuts just like the pioneers used to do.

Meanwhile, after she reaches the North Pole, Angelica starts to understand the true meaning of Christmas herself after she was given “The Reason You Suck” Speech from Santa’s head elf when he told her the cold hard truth about her being nothing but naughty throughout the entire night as well as is genuinely heartbroken when a now living Prancy rejected her after she had called him a “dumb reindeer” earlier.

After a charming song sequence that motivated her to be good all through the year while treating each day like Christmas, Angelica has a change of heart and reconciles with Prancy while deciding to seek out the babies and bring them their presents.

Meanwhile, after he thought the kids were under the care of his wife, Lulu and the other adults, Grandpa Lou volunteers to play Santa while the guy who had quit is missing in action. When he other hears a report of “Six babies have been seen with a goat heading towards the Bethlehem pavilion”, Lou grabs a little one horse open sleigh and rides off to the rescue.

Open reaching Bethlehem, the babies find a doll of Baby Jesus and give him all the presents they had gathered on their journey. Even Dil wanted to give the baby the hat he had picked up, which is a very sweet Character Development since Dil tends to get all grabby, claiming anything he gets his tiny hands on since his debut in the first movie.

After Lou rounds them up and pulls over to dig his family and friends out from the snowed-in cabin, Chuckie is the one to voice out that the presents don’t really matter since the babies still had fun together and that Christmas is all about being with all they hold so dear.

A fully reformed Angelica enters the scene and gives the babies their presents. To add in the heartwarming moment, she decided to give Prancy to Dil, promising she’ll visit her reindeer friend.

After the fa likes are reunited, everyone all agree that this Christmas is the best one yet before they all gathered around the piano as Lou and Lulu happily sing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas while the specials ends with the real Santa Claus flying over Christmas Land in his sleigh, delivering gifts to all the good children all over the world.

I always liked tobelieve that Babies in Toyland is the official finale of the original Rugrats because it serves a healthy Character Development for Angelica’s character and I just love the message it brings out the true meaning of Christmas.

Hope you all enjoy that special as much as I do and I wish you a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year and may your dreams shine. ✨

🎁🧸🚂

[thequeenofmyownscreen]

Fifteen things I noted about the one-shot “The Night Before Critmas”, which was so amazing it deserved its own post :

First off, I'm so happy to see this one-shot, because then I will know the origin story of Chetney, grumpy grandpa gnome and werewolf extraordinaire. And finally understand the jokes.

Oh, the ugly sweaters, the hats !! This is so beautiful, I feel like I'm back in Christmas time.

"You built Caleb, but you forgot his crippling guilt, so he's unrecognizable" Liam !! (but yeah true though)

Chutney is... the best ???? And yeah apparently is name is Chutney, not Chetney, which is way more funnier.

Taliesin freaking out at Liam because he plays a rogue, and cannot deal with the sheer amount of damage he just did, and cannot believe Liam used to do this, is so funny.

Chutney wants to take Santa's place. I did not see that coming. Travis as an bitter and silly old man is so fucking funny.

Sometimes, a family can be a New Jersey disabused elf, a psychopath that serves as security elf, a bored teenager elf, a Jewish Christmas elf, an excitable fan of Santa elf, a female version of the sauna guy from Frozen 1 elf, and a murderous elf that wants to kill his boss, Santa.

Ashley, as Nutmeg Gingersnap (these names !!), holding a candy cane like a cigarette, in a New Jersey accent : "I need a smoke. It's too stresfull out here !"

"We don't have a jail system ???" everyone reacting to the fact that Klaus killed over 300 explorers that were only trying to reach the North Pole, and maybe trespassed on Santa's territory, is so fucking funny.

Bundlestein Sprucenberg, to Klaus : "Be honest with us... Is the naughty list a hit list ?" Klaus : "Well... there's the nice list, there's the naughty list. And there's The Naughty List." Nutmeg Gingersnap : "So there's TWO naughty lists ? How do you know which is which ??" Klaus : "That's only happened twice. We have precautions now in place." Nutmeg Gingersnap, in a shocked murmur : "Mistakes were made..."

Gotta love it when the cast breaks into a rendition of "Three Silver Bells" prompted by Marisha

Chutney, approaching Santa who is bleeding on the ground, with a murderous look in his eyes : "... He told me to make Voltron out of wood... No one wanted it ! He told me to make a Game Boy... I can't do circuits ! He told me to make the little trolls, but the hair didn't move !" AND THEN HE STABS SANTA

"You're a fool, Klaus. We can't compete with Amazon !" everything Travis says as Chutney is golden and deserves to be quoted.

Oh no, Klaus is a flat Earther.

Well this was a joy to watch, I can feel my abs because I laughed wayyyyy to much. Easily in the top 5 of the one-shots !

[purplesauris]

The Way the Pendulum Swings

Yes, I am back again with more writing, no, i cannot control myself. My fantastic friend @frostedbasilisk and I got talking, and I was inspired by Buffskier. (yes, i will continue using the name. Look at their beautiful rendition of Jaskier from a scene of the fic here!

Read on AO3 here!

“I think we need help.” Geralt says, leaning over and offering a hand to hoist Jaskier up. His doublet is now covered in dirt on the back and Jaskier’s pride is wounded, but Jaskier grins sheepishly all the same. 

“I told you, I’m uselessly lead footed.” Jaskier dusts himself off as best he can and fixes his hair, turning so that Geralt can dust him off the rest of the way. “If you can’t teach me dear, who possibly could?”

“Vesemir trained me.” He points out, and Jaskier raises both eyebrows in shock, tilting his head and hmmming. 

“You want to go up north, so that Vesemir can train me?”

“It’s only a few weeks early.” Jaskier pins him with a look that could wither the largest tree, and Geralt has to fight to keep from withering too. Jaskier’s expression lightens quickly, eyes softening, and he goes up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to the tip of Geralt’s nose. 

“Fine. But if he can’t train me, I suppose it’s a lost cause, hmm? Then my big brute of a witcher will have to protect me.” Jaskier’s voice is fond, and though the word should sting, he wields it like such a compliment that Geralt feels himself relaxing. Jaskier likes his brutishness, and has said so many times. “Shall we set out in the morning then?”

“Mmm.” 

                                                       -*-

Their trip up through the mountain is much more pleasant this time- the breeze is just barely beginning to hold the frigid notes of winter, and animals are plentiful along the path. They can take their time, too, in no rush to beat the snows or be the last ones there, so Jaskier can truly admire their surroundings. He spends just as much time singing as he usually does, but now it’s waxing poetics about the way the grass sways in the wind and the mountain air plays with flower petals. It’s meaningless and frilly, but Geralt likes to hear Jaskier like this- wondering at the world around him and seeing the beauty in everything. Not that he’ll tell him such, though if he hums along when Jaskier’s a few steps ahead, no one can blame him.

Geralt has to end up climbing the side of the keep and slipping over when they get up to the massive gates. Vesemir isn’t expecting anyone for at least another month, so the gates are firmly shut and Geralt has to open it for them. Jaskier leads Roach inside and meets Geralt at the stables, helping in taking off all the packs and brushing her down. He leaves that mostly to Geralt in actuality, and feeds Roach a couple of apples from their pack as a treat. 

“You’ll make her fat.” Geralt scolds, but Jaskier just laughs and kisses her soft nose. 

“She works too hard not to get an apple from me.” Roach butts her head against Jaskier’s chest in agreement, and he looks at Geralt to say see? Geralt shakes his head, but he spends an extra bit of time brushing her down and getting her comfortable. Jaskier murmurs quietly to her, telling her what a good horse she is for putting up with Geralt for so long and smiling when he hears Geralt scoff quietly. 

“Geralt, Jaskier.” Jaskier jumps at the sudden arrival of a new voice, and Geralt merely glances over at his adopted father. “You’re early.”

“Geralt’s idea, I’m afraid.” Vesemir chuckles, as if that he already knew that well enough. “He says, and I quote, that I am “woefully unprepared to fight off even the weakest of foes”, and thus, my only hope is you.”

“That’s all he said?” Jaskier grins at Vesemir, snickering when Geralt grumbles and stoops to grab their bags from the hay. “Well, I have to agree. I suppose I could put you through accelerated training.”

“Then consider me your dedicated pupil.” Jaskier bows low at the waist, blue eyes bright when he straightens up. Vesemir smiles at that, a fleeting glimpse under the usual stern exterior, and Jaskier takes it as a win.

No one expected Jaskier to take to training quite the way that he did. Much like a fish to water, actually. Jaskier still woke early to tend to the livestock, as had been his job the last three winters he’d managed to come up to Kaer Morhen, and still managed to make enough food to feed the witchers and leave them wanting for nothing. But when he wasn’t embroiled in other chores, he was outside, under the watchful eyes of Vesemir. Vesemir had sent Geralt off to tend to the monsters in the forests while they trained, and when Jaskier had asked why, Vesemir had just said that Geralt was a mother hen. 

They’d started off with basic fighting, and Jaskier’s progress went significantly faster than it ever had with Geralt. He seemed a natural at it; graceful and light on his feet in a way that many witchers struggled with even today, body already strong from years on the Path. Vesemir wasn’t sure where the problem was in teaching Jaskier- he was attentive and driven to continue until Vesemir had to tell him to stop. By the end of Jaskier’s first month, Vesemir watched and paced the length of the wall as Jaskier hopped and danced around the huge pendulum swinging in the wind. The first time Jaskier had hauled himself up onto the poletops Geralt had nearly called the whole thing off, protests on his lips. He’d remembered his own training as a child, much younger than Jaskier, and had decided to trust him, and trust in Vesemir. 

Jaskier thought that the pendulum was fun. Geralt had never thought balancing on the tops of poles and dodging a large, spiky pendulum was fun, but Jaskier laughed and jested with Vesemir the whole time, catching himself when he stumbled and swearing like Lambert when a spike slammed sideways into his thigh. After the pendulums, Jaskier would be sent to run the walls in true witcher school fashion, and by the time dinner came around Jaskier was all but dead on his feet. Still, he got up day after day, boasting of the newest bruises that had formed in the night as if they were a badge of valor. 

“You hide it.” Jaskier stumbles atop the poles, righting his footing as Vesemir lets out a careful- and watches him a bit closer.

“Hide what, dear teacher of mine?” Vesemir raps a wooden sword against one of the poles, making it shake under foot, but Jaskier merely hops to another pole and brandishes his sword. 

“Your fighting prowess.” Jaskier stops then, dropping gracefully into a balanced crouch so he can hear Vesemir over the roaring of the wind. Vesemir allows him a moment to talk, since he started it, and watches the way Jaskier adjusts to keep the wind from blowing him off the poles. “You were already trained, weren’t you?”

“I’m a noble, Vesemir. There isn’t much that I wasn’t trained in. My father thought it important that I learn, in the worry I be called to war.”

“You’re a noble.” Vesemir points out in refute to that, and Jaskier laughs. No noble has ever been called to war anymore than they’ve been called to shovel pig shit. “It’s served you well now, though.”

“I suppose it has.” Jaskier agrees, standing once again. Vesemir uses a weak blast of aard to get the pendulum going again, and Jaskier twirls around the obstacle, feet hardly touching one pole before he vaults for the next.

“When the other boys get here, let’s put that to the test.” Jaskier doesn't say anything, but he’s grinning, and he pushes himself just a bit harder. 

                                                             -*-

“Since when the fuck have you been first?” Geralt grunts as Lambert claps him on the back, nudging the younger man with his shoulder. “No Jaskier this year?”

“He’s here.” Geralt turns back to the dummy he’s restuffing, pointedly not looking toward Jaskier on the far side of the grounds. “With Vesemir.”

“What, talking about boring old history in the library again?”

Geralt smirks at that, tilting his head back toward the pendulums and turning to catch Lambert’s reaction. Lambert looks over, eyes widening, and he breathes out a holy shit. “You let Vesemir sink his claws in?”

“He asked.”

“He asked? Bullshit.” Lambert goes jogging over, and after a minute Geralt follows, sure that trouble is brewing. Lambert gets to Vesemir first, and the old witcher doesn’t even bother to look at the newest arrival. 

“He’s training.” Is all he says, as if that’s ever been enough to settle Lambert. 

“Like hell he is, Jaskier, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Exactly what Vesemir said!” The bard calls back, swaying between not one, but two pendulums now. Vesemir had added the second only upon Jaskier’s insistence. Geralt can smell the worry emanating off of Lambert, and he reaches out to grab at the man’s shoulder but finds him already moving. He reaches a hand, trying to catch Jaskier by the ankle and pull him down, but Jaskier hops away with ease and gives him a dirty look. Lambert grabs for him again, but again Jaskier skips away, glancing down and waiting for his next move. The pendulums move with almost the same sway, and Jaskier doesn’t even have to look to anticipate their moves. “Helping?”

“No, you little shit. You’re on the edge of a cliff and I’m not going to be the one cleaning your carcass up. Get down.” 

“Make me.” Lambert growls, lunging and following Jaskier along the wall as Jaskier dodges and leaps away just shy of Lambert’s reach. Somewhere in the time of them having come over to witness Lambert chasing after Jaskier like a kitten with a toy Eskel has arrived, and he slings an arm over Geralt’s shoulder as he approaches. 

“He’s better than you were.” Eskel remarks, watching curiously.

“Shut up.” He’s done remarkably well though, Geralt has to admit. Just seeing that Jaskier is able to dodge Lambert has his heart settling a bit. He can at least be trusted to run if danger shows up. Geralt’s heart doesn’t get a chance to rest much as Lambert finally catches Jaskier’s ankle, yanking him forward. Jaskier’s leg goes out from under him, and Geralt watches in slow motion as Jaskier tips backwards, out toward open air. Vesemir leaps forward, reaching, but Jaskier goes plunging over the edge, and Geralt’s heart stops completely. 

“FUCK. FUCK, I killed the bard-” Lambert goes to hoist himself up so he can peer over, but stops himself short when he hears something. A pained grunt, and a swear colorful enough to curdle milk.

“No, you didn’t, but I’d appreciate it you didn’t attempt to do so again.” Jaskier’s voice comes from the other side of the wall at the same time that he swings himself up and rests on one knee. His arms are shaking and Geralt can smell blood- he’s pulling Jaskier down and hugging him tight before anyone else can move. “Geralt, I’m fine.” 

His voice is muffled against Geralt’s shoulder, and Geralt shudders before pulling back to look for the blood. Jaskier’s palm is torn up by the rough grit of the wood, and Geralt counts at least six splinters that will have to be pulled out. He’s alive though, and that’s enough for him at the moment. “Still like the pendulums?”

“What’s not to like, love?” His tone is light, but his scent is bitter with fear and his voice shakes a little at the end. Geralt presses his lips together, trying not to frown and failing to do so. Jaskier does laugh then, quietly, and he tugs his hand from Geralt’s to turn to Lambert. He holds his bloody palm out, raising a brow. “Kiss it better?”

“Kiss my ass.” Lambert bites out, scowling and leading the bard inside to clean out his hand. Eskel eyes the pendulums still swinging in the wind, and looks toward Geralt. 

“Once, for old times sake?” Geralt shakes his head, but joins Eskel all the same to duck and weave around the pendulums and each other. Vesemir corrects their form, though he hardly needs to, and Geralt only gets down once the pendulums settle and it’s near impossible to move around them. He hops down, landing lightly, and hears soft clapping. Jaskier’s one hand is wrapped tight in a bandage, but he seems put back together again, and Lambert is hanging a step behind his shoulder. 

“Now imagine how much better I’d be with witcher reflexes. No one would ever catch me!” Jaskier casts a sly glance toward Lambert, lips tugging up into a smile. “This one almost didn’t. Beginner’s luck.”

“Who’re you calling a beginner?”

“Not used to sweeping men off their feet, hmm?” Lambert’s cheeks go pink as he scoffs, waving a hand. He opens his mouth to say something, but Vesemir interrupts, nodding his head.

“Heal quickly. We’re going to test your training.” Geralt frowns, wondering how much he could have actually done in a month, but Jaskier’s eyes are eager.

“Yes sir.” 

                                                         -*-

“We’re sparring today. Each day, one of you will fight him, to see how he reacts.” Jaskier is standing next to Vesemir as he announces the plan, excitement written all over his face. “Lambert will go first.”

“Really? You want to start with me?”

“Scared? I promise I’ll go easy.” Jaskier quips, rolling his sleeves up and taking a couple steps into the large sparring circle they've marked in the dirt. Lambert growls softly and strips out of his armor, leaving it in the dirt. 

“Don’t bother, this’ll be over before you know it.” Jaskier walks in a slow circle, watching Lambert and humming softly. 

“Are you sure?”

“False bravado makes you look like an ass.” Jaskier nods his head as if he agrees, rolling his shoulders and matching Lambert’s pace. 

They spiral in the ring, slowly coming closer. It seems like neither of them want to strike first, until Jaskier steps forward and swings. The blow is weak, shaky, and Lambert bats his hand away easily. He punches the bard with a swift hit to his stomach, scoffing. Jaskier oofs, bending over, and Lambert comes in closer, aiming another hit meant to incapacitate him. Jaskier’s gone and behind Lambert before the man finishes his swing, bouncing light on his toes. Lambert whirls, using the momentum to punch forward, but Jaskier slips past him, slamming a fist into the underside of the man’s upper arm and dancing away. Lambert grunts, fingers tingling unpleasantly, and advances forward. Geralt watches in fascination as they play cat and mouse, Lambert chasing and chasing as Jaskier whirls and skips away, staying just out of reach. Lambert is faster, manages to keep up easily, but the only blows he manages to land are glancing and Jaskier seems to handle the pain with ease.

“He’s fast.” Eskel murmurs, eyes flitting between the two opponents and lingering longer on Jaskier. Lambert snarls, red faced after another blow hits dead air, and his pupils contract as he watches, waiting. Jaskier stops too, panting and using the moment to catch his breath. Geralt sees the moment that Lambert decides what he’s going to do- his heel digs into the dirt and he launches forward, roaring and tackling Jaskier. The hold is one he doesn’t think that Jaskier will get out of, especially not with an enraged Lambert, but Jaskier grabs onto the back of his shirt and brings his leg up, knee slamming into Lambert’s side twice in quick succession. Lambert’s rib snaps with a dull crack on the second hit, and he howls as the two go rolling in the dirt. A broken rib has never stopped him before, never stopped any of them, but he’s distracted and Jaskier uses the momentum of their roll to fling himself up and off. He scrambles from his knees to his feet, arms coming up and taking the brunt of the blow Lambert aimed for his head. Geralt can see the purple bruises already forming along Jaskier’s arms.

“We should stop this.” Geralt breathes, knowing that if they don’t, Lambert is going to do something he’ll regret later. Still, Jaskier hasn’t left the ring and neither of them have yielded. Lambert’s eyes have gone wild, and Geralt’s heart picks up at the sight. Even he will admit he doesn’t want to go up against Lambert like this unless he absolutely has to, and he’s even more impressed and slightly aroused that Jaskier is holding his own. Lambert gets in close and delivers a vicious right hook, and Jaskier ducks down into a low crouch. Geralt’s eyes track the movement, and he sees Jaskier’s thighs flex and his head tuck to the side as he springs up from his crouch, ramming his shoulder up into Lambert’s tender ribs. Lambert goes stumbling back, hissing, and Jaskier follows him, using one hand on the witcher’s chest to shove an already wobbling Lambert from the ring. 

“Match.” Vesemir says, glancing down at his son who is currently laying in the dirt, hand pressed to his side as he pants. Jaskier pads over and crouches next to him, tilting his head and probing at his side. Lambert smacks his hands away, and Jaskier grimaces. 

“Sorry Lambert. Did it break fully?”

“Just a fracture. Only thing broken is my pride.” 

“I tried to warn you.” Jaskier teases, pulling a vial from his pocket and handing it over. “Thought you’d need this.”

“Cocky son of a bitch-” Lambert takes the Swallow and downs it in one go, laying still so the potion can do its work. Lambert lays his head back in the dirt again, and Jaskier settles by his side to wait. “Thanks.”

“Thank you.” Jaskier says in return, grinning when Lambert shoves him. 

“I can’t wait to see Eskel beat your ass.”

Jaskier looks up at the aforementioned witcher, still smiling. “I can’t wait either.”

                                                          -*-

Eskel refuses to fight him until his bruises are healed, citing unfair advantages if his opponent is wounded already. No one begrudges him this, and Jaskier takes the time to train a bit more in swordplay. They meet back in the ring a week after Lambert’s fight, Jaskier bouncing on his heels and grinning all the while. Eskel is the mirror opposite; he stands calmly on the other side of the ring, watching with amusement as Jaskier looks at Vesemir to signal the start of their fight. Vesemir waves them both into the ring, nodding. “Begin.” 

Just as before, they begin circling, slowly moving toward one another. This time, Jaskier doesn’t hesitate. He goes on the offensive immediately, throwing quick jabs that hit with loud thuds against Eskel’s forearms. He absorbs the blows and continues his slow pacing, letting Jaskier come to him. It’s smart, after having seen the way that Jaskier was content to let his partner slip into a rage before doing any substantial damage. Eskel hardly gives anything back, but he’s wearing Jaskier out and he knows it. Jaskier backs off when he can’t break through Eskel’s guard, panting and hands trembling lightly. His knuckles are already bruised horribly, and Geralt frowns. Jaskier has wasted all his energy trying to break through Eskel’s guard- Eskel only has to deliver a single blow to Jaskier’s abdomen to send him flying, and he skids along the ground, stopping just inside the circle. Jaskier curls into a ball, wheezing, and Geralt strains to make sure that he didn’t hear a rib snap or something pop. 

“Get up, bard.” Eskel’s voice is soft, and he allows Jaskier room, time to get up. Jaskier rises to his knees, gasping, and then he stumbles to his feet, raising his hands and swaying. “Yield?”

Jaskier shakes his head and Eskel sighs, padding forward. He doesn’t want to knock Jaskier out or blow him from the ring, but Jaskier is stubborn, dodging to the side when Eskel tries to push him out of the ring. Eskel follows after him, patiently corralling him to the other side of the ring. Jaskier is still stumbling, blinking rapidly as if the sun bothers him, and Eskel seems to take pity on him. He sweeps a leg out, intending to take him out once and for all, but Jaskier leaps up and over. Eskel grabs at him, knowing where he’ll land, but Jaskier is waiting for it, and he grabs Eskel's hand. He spins on his heel, dragging Eskel’s arm with him and pivoting when Eskel tries to break his hold. Jaskier presses a thumb viciously into the meat of Eskel’s thumb, making the bone grind as he finally gets Eskel’s arm behind him and wrenches upwards. 

Eskel is the one to gasp in pain now, and Jaskier uses his leverage to press him to his knees in the dirt, bending over until Eskel’s face is nearly on the ground and his shoulder shrieks in protest. Geralt feels his blood heat at the sight of Jaskier holding a witcher down with a very well done pin, and his nostrils flare when he smells a spike of arousal from Eskel in the ring. That… doesn’t bother him as much as it should. Jaskier’s voice is raspy as he pants raggedly, pupils wide. “Yield.”

Eskel tries to wiggle his way out, but Jaskier pulls his arm a bit tighter, digs his thumb in harder, and Eskel gasps again. “Yield, I yield.” 

The words stun Geralt, and he looks at Lambert in astonishment as Jaskier lets Eskel go. “Match.” Vesemir calls, pride warming his words. Jaskier nods, smiling, and then promptly turns, takes a few steps away, and vomits into the grass. Geralt hurries to his side immediately while Lambert goes to help Eskel up, rubbing at Jaskier’s back and murmuring softly. The smell of bile hits his nose, sharp and raw, and he grimaces as Jaskier dry heaves, tears dripping down his cheeks. Geralt looks closely at what Jaskier throws up, looking for any blood, but finds nothing but their breakfast from this morning. Good. Nothing seems to have been damaged internally, at least not that he can tell yet, and Jaskier straightens up slowly, wiping at his mouth and burping.

“Ugh, that’s disgusting.”

“Are you alright?” Jaskier nods, giving Geralt a soft smile. Eskel comes over now, holding out a waterskin and allowing Jaskier to rinse his mouth out. Eskel also urges the bard to drink a bit, and rubs the back of his head sheepishly. 

“Didn’t mean to hit you that hard, Jask.”

“No, it was a good swing. Almost had me there for a minute. Am I going to get a medal?”

“For what?” Geralt says, voice tinged with amusement and worry and everything else in between. 

“Well, beating two witchers at hand to hand combat, of course.” 

“You still have one more to go. Beat the White Wolf, and then we’ll talk.” Lambert peers around Eskel, wrinkling his nose at the smell of vomit and pointedly not looking Jaskier’s way again. Jaskier locks eyes with Geralt, winking, and Geralt regrets agreeing to the sparring now more than ever. 

                                                        -*-

It takes Jaskier a full week to recover from Eskel's well placed punch, and he spends every minute of it working or training. His stomach recovers fine, much to Eskel's (and Geralt's) relief, and Jaskier seems supremely pleased that he was able to even survive such a hit. The weather has gotten colder now as winter fully grasps the valley, and snow falls lightly as they convene outside for Jaskier’s final test. 

“Something different today. Swords.” Vesemir waves toward the wooden training swords and Jaskier grimaces. Lambert though, is grinning. If there’s one thing that Geralt is known for, that Jaskier sings of constantly, it’s his swordsmanship. 

“Really? I don’t think-” 

“He’s already proven his hand to hand. I want to see his sword skills.” Jaskier doesn't object, taking a sword when Geralt holds it out to him. Geralt looks like he's swallowed something sour as he rolls his wrist and dips into a slight crouched stance. Jaskier mirrors the stance but doesn't seem nearly as comfortable. 

"You don't have to." Geralt says softly as they walk a slow circle around each other. 

"I do." Jaskier replies, nodding his head. "Let's get this over with, love."

Geralt feels his heart constrict- he doesn't want to risk hurting Jaskier, doesn't think he could stomach it, but Jaskier isn’t going to back down. He starts out easy, blows that Jaskier can parry or block without being terribly inconvenienced. He can imagine the sad, frustrated look on Jaskier’s face when he loses, and Geralt’s heart breaks for him already. Geralt is half in his thoughts when Jaskier swings, blade sailing for his side. He moves to block, but Jaskier’s arm twitches and he moves trajectory, smacking Geralt hard on the arm with the flat of his blade. Geralt’s skin stings, and his eyes narrow minutely. His nostrils flair- he’d expected Jaskier to smell like rotting fruit- anxious and resigned, but he doesn’t. He smells of citrus, sharp and bright. Excited.

Geralt lets himself go a bit harder, moves faster and with more of that impossible dancer's grace. None of the witcher’s fought quite like he did, with spinning, overly dramatic moves that were just as effective in disemboweling someone. He expects Jaskier to fall behind, expects to feel his blade strike some soft part of Jaskier’s body, but Jaskier… doesn’t. He grins, laughs, and moves through Geralt’s moves as if they were his own. He mirrors them as effortlessly as Geralt attempts to hit him, and Geralt isn’t sure what to think of this. Jaskier’s spins and hops around him, drops low into near splits that has Geralt wincing in pain at the thought. No wonder he liked the pendulum- they’re the perfect way to avoid an enemy, and he spent ample time on them. 

“Stop dancing with each other and fight!” Lambert calls, and that breaks Jaskier’s concentration. He glances over, away from Geralt, and Geralt lunges forward. His blade is a hair's breadth away from Jaskier’s head, a move that will knock him out if Geralt’s lucky when Jaskier bends backwards. He doesn’t stop just out of reach- he bends fully over, spine creating an elegant arch as his hands plant in the dirt and he flips backwards. The toe of his boot catches Geralt’s wrist, jarring his fingers, and the blade goes flying as Jaskier completes his hand stand and drops, chest to the ground. The world around Geralt tilts sharply as the heel of a boot smashes into the backs of his knees, and he goes down onto his back, wheezing and failing to suck in a breath. 

He hears the shuffle of feet in the dirt as Jaskier steps forward, rolling his wrist and twirling the blade the way that Geralt has done a thousand times. He presses the dull wooden tip against the soft skin under Geralt’s jaw and digs in lightly, tipping his chin up. His eyes are dark, dangerous, and Geralt feels heat pool in his stomach. He shouldn’t be getting aroused at this, at being beaten, but Jaskier is spectacular, wreathed in light with snow in his hair and cheeks red from exertion. 

“Yield, love?”

“Yield.” Geralt breathes out, raising his hands in a placating gesture. A smirk plays across Jaskier’s lips, and Geralt wants nothing more than to kiss him until neither of them can breathe. Jaskier tosses the sword in the dirt and offers Geralt a hand as he leans up. Geralt thinks for a moment about yanking Jaskier down and pinning him into the dirt, but Jaskier draws in a sharp breath and narrows his eyes. 

“Don’t even think about it.” Geralt schools his expression into one of faint annoyance, for having lost of course, and not because he’s predictable enough that Jaskier knows what he was planning. Geralt scoops Jaskier’s discarded blade up as he gets to his feet, and hears Lambert begin to laugh. 

“We have got to be the worst witchers- a fuckin bard beat all of us!” Lambert laughs harder, doubling over and slapping his thigh. 

“Vesemir must be quite the teacher.” Eskel says in agreement, eyes sparkling with amusement as he nods toward Jaskier. Jaskier reaches to brush some dirt off of his pants, smiling and glancing over at Vesemir. Vesemir nods, sharing a small, private look, and Jaskier straightens up.

“I uh, may have misled you lot about my apparent lack of skills.” That shuts Lambert up, and he stands up, frowning hard. Jaskier laughs nervously, shuffles his feet in the dirt, and hurries to explain. “While I am nowhere near your skills as witchers, I ah, was trained as a child. Extensively, I might add, in the art of war.”

“Ha! So the old man isn’t responsible for that?”

“Well, he certainly helped reawaken old skills.” Geralt stares at Jaskier, confusion on his face and lips pressed together in a tight line. 

“But… Every time I tried to-” Jaskier clears his throat, blushing, and takes Geralt’s hand in his.

“Ulterior motives, love.” Lambert scoffs in disgust, Eskel laughing quietly.

                                                           -*-

“Show me that move, the one you used to disarm Geralt.” Lambert insists that night while they’re eating dinner, golden-amber eyes shining.

“Inside? Fine.” Jaskier sighs dramatically, standing up from the table and moving a few steps away. He folds himself back, fingers splaying against the stony ground, and lifts himself up onto his hands, tilting his body and lowering himself down until his chest is parallel to the floor. He pauses there a moment, then swings his legs around in a sharp burst of speed, knocking over one of the chairs and grunting at the pain in his shins. He’s folded oddly now, still holding all his weight up and off the ground, and he slowly unfolds himself, shaking out his hands as he hops to his feet. “Good enough?”

“Holy fuck.” Lambert gapes, thoroughly impressed. Geralt doesn’t say anything, but he has to agree with Lambert’s amazement. He hadn’t been able to see the whole move, being the target, but it’s rather impressive, and highlights all of the lovely muscles in Jaskier’s arms.  Lambert leans over to whisper at Geralt, eyes tracking Jaskier as he picks up the fallen chair and collapses into it, grinning when Eskel says something to him. “You lucky son of a bitch.”

Geralt feels his chest rumble, and distantly hears himself growl, but his eyes are on Jaskier and the exposed column of his neck. Geralt blinks, shaking his head, and tries his best not to seem like a luststricken fool. Jaskier’s eyes aren’t on Geralt, and he can’t possibly have heard the noise Geralt made, but he tilts his head, the muscles in his neck shifting as he slouches in the chair, legs spreading just a bit. Geralt growls louder at that, and Lambert rolls his eyes, smacking Geralt lightly on the shoulder. Geralt jolts, swallows hard and tears his gaze from Jaskier. “Jask, come here. I want to know how you fought like that.”

Jaskier rises to his feet obediently, plopping back into his old seat near Geralt. “Like what?”

“Like me.” It’s been bugging him since they came inside, and he wants to know. He didn’t do that with Eskel or Lambert- he’d used what advantages he had, but he hadn’t bothered trying to emulate them. 

“I watch you. A lot. And… Working on the pendulums, it gave me a better sense of your footwork- the way you move. From there, it was about putting the pieces together to create-”

“A dance.” Geralt’s eyes meet Jaskier’s and Jaskier nods, beaming. 

“Just so. I didn’t need to be able to actually best you in combat, I just had to survive long enough to disarm you.” 

Lambert looks between them, then glances at Eskel, pretending to throw up and rolling his eyes. Geralt sees him mouth the word ‘saps’ and he reaches out to flick Lambert’s ear. He hisses, swatting Geralt away and glaring. He’s still covering his ear from further onslaught when he looks expectantly at Jaskier, as if to say what about us?

“Hmmm. As for you two, I couldn’t spend nearly as much time watching, so I used what I knew. You, my spitfire, are easy to piss off and keep that way. It makes you easy to read.” Jaskier winks at Lambert even as he scowls, but he won’t argue. It’s pretty accurate and he knows it. Jaskier’s attention turns to Eskel, who’s waiting quietly to hear his weakness. “You, my gentle giant, are harder. You’re much more patient, and I can’t rile you for the life of me. But, I can use that gentleness against you.”

Eskel hums, considering this, but he also finds no fault in Jaskier’s thinking. He didn’t want to hurt Jaskier, especially not in front of Geralt, and that had made him easy prey. “Okay, now I have a question about you.”

“My favorite subject.” Jaskier grins, waving for Eskel to go on.

“How did you become so flexible?”

“Ah, yes, everyone always seems to ask me that.” Jaskier muses, tapping a finger on his chin and smirking when Geralt nudges for him to go on instead of dragging out the silence. “I traveled with a carnival troupe when I graduated from the academy. I played the music to accompany their shows, and learned much from the acrobats in the family. One of them, a very pretty elf, was particularly interested in using it combatively. It’s served me well, thus far.”

“Very well.” Lambert’s grin is saucy, and Eskel groans as Jaskier laughs. Geralt sits there, throat dry and cheeks blazing red. He sees Jaskier glance over out of the corner of his eye, and he tenses up to keep from reacting as Jaskier’s hand slides up his thigh suggestively. Geralt swallows hard, and Jaskier sighs at the same time he begins to draw patterns over the fabric of Geralt’s pants. 

“Well, now that I am an honorary witcher through ancient rites, I am going to sleep. No one dare wake me.” Jaskier’s voice is threatening, but he’s smiling and chuckles when Lambert mutters honorary witcher my ass. Jaskier glances over at Geralt, hand falling away as he stands to leave. He stoops to kiss Geralt lightly, humming against his lips. “Coming up soon?”

“Mhm.” Jaskier heads up to bed alone, and Geralt only manages to stay with his brothers for another few minutes before following Jaskier up to bed. Lambert whistles at him as he leaves, and Geralt’s cheeks are red as he climbs the stairs up to their room. 

[backtomovie]

The 10 best holiday movies quotes

The 10 best holiday movies quotes are simple circumstances that turn into wonderful revelations about people. Holiday movies quotes, for whatever reason accentuate man’s light bulb of understanding of himself. Movie quotes are remembered for their kindness, others for their bravery, and still others for their sheer nerve. These quotes are set for the time of year when man is more willing to give his fellow man a chance. "It’s a Wonderful Life". The wonderful classic, "It’s a Wonderful Life" with Jimmy Stewart made in 1943 carries the memorable line, “I wanna live again.” This is one of the most touching holiday stories in movie history. The story of a wonderful, caring person, thinking himself a failure, realizing, almost too late, but for the help of Clarence, that he was a great man.

"The Polar Express". This movie has one of the truest quote made by man, “The thing about trains…it doesn’t matter where they’re going. What matters is deciding to get on.” So many times in life people cannot make up their mind to try. This dazzling fantasy of a ride to the North Pole is an all time favorite. 2004

"The Santa Clause". A father caught up in this 1994 movie finds himself inducted into the ranks of Santa and in disbelief states, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night! When I get home, I’m getting a CAT scan,” a lovely family movie starring Tim Allen.

"A Charlie Brown Christmas". The creator Charles Shultz always seemed to have Charlie Brown say just the right thing, “Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?” This movie is a 1965 favorite of children and parents all over the globe.

"Frosty the Snowman". Made in 1969, "Frosty the Snowman" is a year end classic narrated by the wonderful Burl Ives. “Happy Birthday! Hey, I said my first words!" An all time movie quote, representing the realization of discovery in everyone, a great holiday movie classic quote.

"How the Grinch Stole Christmas". Who can forget this 1966 classic quote, “That’s the one thing I hate, noise, noise, noise!” Like the Grinch liked anything about Christmas! A wonderful movie with memorable lines.

"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer". This special movie is a childhood delight. The movie quote, “Hermey doesn’t want to make toys,” shows kids if you do not want to be the same as everyone else, it is fine. A wonderful life lesson in a beautiful old tale; this 1964 version is a favorite.

"A Christmas Carol". This is an old story with a quote that may be shocking, and sadly felt by too many. “If they'd rather die then they better do it, and decrease the surplus population!” This 1971 classic is a constant reminder of man’s careless treatment of others sharing this planet; a lovely holiday reminder, to treat one another better.

"Elf". Starring the delightful Will Ferrell," You smell like beef and cheese, you don't smell like Santa." A person trying to fit in suddenly accepted for who he is. The Elf is not what the world expects and Santa is not what the Elf expects.

"National Lampoons Christmas Vacation". This movie quotes shows how easy the holidays can go in the opposite direction you expect; no matter how well planned. "I don't know what to say, except its Christmas and we're all in misery." More people than care to admit have felt this on a family holiday. This 1989 holiday movie quotes is hilariously true.

[philosopherking1887]

First line challenge

Thanks for tagging me, @sapphosewrites!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have fewer than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line.

I interpreted “first line” generously... these are more like first paragraphs, or first few lines if the first is a short line of dialogue. Putting the quotes under a cut because this got quite long.

My first lines seem to fall into 4 categories (though the fourth only has one instance):

(a)  Line of dialogue: 4, 6, 7, 9, 14, 19 (b)  Description of a relevant background state of affairs: 2, 5, 10, 12, 17, 18, 20 (c)  A present, occurrent event that starts the action, always immediately followed by a statement relating it to a more general state of affairs: 1, 8, 13, 15(?), 16; 12 could actually be considered a mirror image of this pattern (d)  Description of setting: 11

Do I have a favorite? Maybe #5... but that might just be because it belongs to what’s currently my favorite fic of mine. Does anyone else have a favorite?

Tagging @conceptadecency, @damnhardwork, @delicatetrashstranger, @korvidaee, @richardcampbellganseytheiiird, @vermin-disciple, and anyone else who finds this amusing...

1.  Julian was fully awake the instant he heard the door chime of his cabin aboard the Defiant. That was one of many curious perks of his genetic enhancements: no sleep inertia. Zero to sixty in no time flat, as they might have said in the old automobile days.

2. Jadzia loved dirty gossip (a trait she had inherited primarily from Curzon, but also, in varying degrees, from all her other previous hosts, with the notable exception of Tobin). She loved offering advice, solicited or un-, on other people’s love lives. She was a proud, unrepentant busybody. But now, in spite of all that, she found herself regretting having busybodied herself into the position of Julian’s sole confidante about his relationship with Garak.

3.  “Everything’s gone dark. I can’t see you. Are you alone?” “Yes. There’s no one else but you and me.” Julian would think about that later—what it meant that Garak wanted him to stay, had lied to his old mentor and superior, the man to whom he said he owed everything.

4.  “…then she grabs my wrist, and puts my hand on her arm, and says ‘You have very steady hands.’ At this point I was completely baffled. How’m I supposed to respond to that? So I said, ‘Well, they get the job done, I guess. But right now the most important job is bypassing the plasma emitter.’ And then, out of nowhere, she says, ‘I assure you I’m quite fertile.’”

5.  Since being exiled to Terok Nor, Garak found that he had nothing but time. That was more true than ever now that he had been sentenced to six months in a holding cell on this State-forsaken station.

6.  “So, Katara… I’ve been thinking.” “No, you shouldn’t try riding the unagi again,” Katara said absently, not looking up from her work.

7.  “You wanted to see me, Commander?” “Sit down, Doctor Bashir.” “Is everything all right?” “Everything except your head, apparently.”

8.  Katara swept through the halls of the Fire Nation Royal Palace like a hurricane, hand perched threateningly on the skin of water at her hip, while Aang followed in the path she had cleared, apologizing hurriedly to disconcerted servants and indignant officials standing pressed against the walls to let her pass. Katara had no trouble finding her way to the infirmary; she had spent a fair amount of time there in the days after Sozin’s Comet, helping to tend Zuko’s wound from Azula’s lightning, as well as the less life-threatening ailments of the combatants from the Day of Black Sun who were being released from Fire Nation prisons on the orders of the new Fire Lord.

9.  “Ziyal?” She turned and spotted him, and her eyes lit up. Garak closed the distance to her table and she stood, a smile breaking over her face like the sun scattering thunderclouds over the desert.

10.  Three years after the end of the war, Aang was finding himself feeling perversely glad that he had only been twelve years old when he’d had to master three elements in less than a year and save the world from a power-mad Fire Lord, because if he’d been just a few years older he would never have been able to focus.

11.  It was another sultry day on Ember Island, where the Avatar’s family had joined the Fire Lord’s for a brief holiday at the royal family’s beach house. The heat was verging on uncomfortable for Katara, who was used to the chill of the South Pole.

12.  It wasn’t often that all the heroes of the Hundred-Year War could gather in the same place at the same time, but they managed it for the fifth anniversary of Zuko’s coronation.

13.  Zuko lit four candles on the altar in his cabin and sat half-lotus on the bench in front of it to meditate, as his uncle had taught him, as he had done every evening for the past three months aboard the Wani. Or rather, it should have been evening, but so near the North Pole at the summer solstice, the sun never quite set, but hovered at the edge of the horizon even at midnight.

14. “We could call it the Fifth Nation.” Aang made this suggestion to Zuko as they walked back from an informal tour of Cranefish Town, which before today Zuko had never seen, to the hotel where they were staying.

15.  As it turned out, Katara was the first to have the opportunity for a night alone with Zuko—which she thought was only fair, since it was Aang’s impulsive kiss when he was alone with Zuko that had started all of this.

16.  Iroh looked away when Ozai put a hand to his son’s face—but even as he did, he swore that he would never look away from Zuko again.

17.  In the Fire Nation, unlike in the other nations, the solstices are not festival days. Most of the archipelago is arrayed along the equator, so the length of the days does not change appreciably over the course of the year. What distinguishes the solstices is that the tilt of the planet makes the angle of the sun’s rays more indirect than at any other time of year, while it is strongest and most direct during what the hemispheres call the equinoxes.

18.  Zuko was accumulating epithets, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

19.  “Do you think something is going on between Mom and Dad and Uncle Zuko?” Kya asked, apparently out of the blue.

20.  Zuko had given Aang every argument he could muster for why he had to kill the Fire Lord.

[attackfish]

@bookworm-2692 asked:

"Instead, Aang’s first battle is fighting the Southern Water Tribe, including Master Katara’s attempts to control him" okay now I'm BURSTING for more information on the Toph/Zuko marriage AU!! Five headcanons please! (you don't need to follow from that quoted sentence if the au would rather you focus on a different section yet, I just wanted to let you know how shook I was even tho it totally makes sense. Poor Aang. Are there any teens his age around to form the Gaang 2.0 with??)"

Since I had in fact answered this in posts that were in the queue at the time, the asker has given me permission to continue on past that and not address these questions specifically.

Universe tag: [Link].

1. After the trip to the Southern Air Temple, Aang buckles down to train. With Torqa and Yuka training with him, he could almost pretend that he's still at the Southern Air Temple, that nothing's really changed. But nothing is the same. Everything is just that little bit different, to remind him that the Air Nomads are gone, and he can't go home. For one thing, it's impossible to be a vegetarian at the South Pole. There just aren't enough plants to be found. Hakoda, Sokka and Katara do their best with trade to bring in as much grain, beans, and dried fruit as possible, but it's just not enough. He has to eat meat, and wear the warm furs, and some days, he feels as if the Air Nomads are dying again as he changes.

2. It takes Aang longer to study waterbending with no deadline hanging over his head. As Katara teaches him, the Northern Water Tribe, regularly sends emissaries to the South, requesting that he be turned over to them for training, since the Southern Water Tribe has no recognized masters. Recognized by whom? Katara is wont to retort. But he is fifteen when Katara is finally willing to declare him ready to begin earthbending. If it perhaps took longer for Katara to make this declaration than it might otherwise because he's the Avatar, Aang won't ask. But before arrangements are made to find an earthbending teacher, Katara graciously invites a Northern master to come to assess Aang's skills, mostly to get the North to shut up.

3. The North sends a wizened old man, who Aang is astonished survived the journey. Katara does not bow to him, but she does incline her head. "Master Pakku," she says to him. "I am glad you came. I learned much from you." He is furious. "You were not my student," he tells her, and Katara smiles. "No, but I learned from you anyway." He is not able to find any substantial problems with Aang's proficiency. When he leaves half a month later, he is willing to testify to that, and to Katara's mastery, if, and Aang thinks this is weird and kind of funny, given his reaction when they met, Katara is willing to say she was his student. He doesn't know what went down, other than that he and Katara waterbent together for a while, and he visited Chief Hakoda's mother's grave.

4. Given the political situation in the North, recovering from a civil war, with a woman ruling for the first time in hundreds of years, even if as a regent, Sokka elects to escort Master Pakku home and to stay on as an ambassador, to renew their ties with the North on a more even footing.

5. Finding an earthbending teacher for Aang is a problem. As soon as they send out word that Aang is ready, every village and petty leader in the Earth Kingdom insists that he should come study there, that they are best suited to tutoring him. Even the Firelord sent them a letter saying his wife is the greatest earthbender in the world.

[lovemesomesurveys]

[found at: eightfortysix]

Who are you? My name is Stephanie.

What are the 3 most important things everyone should know about you? -I’ve been distant and withdrawn these past few years, but I’m just a mess and wrapped up in my own head and the shit I’m dealing with and haven’t been able to really be there for anyone. It’s not that I don’t care. -I get in very moody and irritable moods. -I’m always tired and feel drained.

Where do you want to be in 5 years? I don’t know.

Are you more child-like or childish? I think I’m still a child at heart. I also feel like one when I get in my moody moods and cry over the most ridiculous things.

What is the last thing you said out loud? “Goodnight.”

How do you handle a rainy day? I don’t do anything different unless I leave the house, in which case I’d just dress differently for the weather. 

What did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be a teacher.

Are you more of a giver or a taker? I feel like I’ve been more of a taker these past few years. 

Have you ever been given a second chance? Yes.

Do you make your decisions with an open heart/mind? I think I do for the most part. 

What is the most physically painful thing that has ever happened to you? The accident that made me a paraplegic. 

Who have you hugged today? I haven’t hugged anyone today so far.

If you could learn how to do three things just by wishing and not by learning, what would they be? I’d be fluent in Spanish, an amazing pianist, and something useful that I could use to be successful in life. 

What 3 things do you want to do before you die? Get my shit together, do something worthwhile with my life, and travel. What three things would you want to die to avoid doing? Uhhh.

Have you ever saved someone's life or had your life saved? I’ve had mine saved.

What was the last thing you made with your own hands? I’m not crafty.

What was your favorite toy as a child? I was obsessed with Barbies.

What is your favorite thing to do outside? The only outdoor activity I enjoy is spending time at the beach.

How do you feel when you see a rainbow? It’s always pretty cool because it’s a rarity for me.

Have you ever dreamt a dream that came true? Certain things I’ve dreamt have happened, but not like aspiration dreams or anything serious.

What one thing have you done that most people haven't? Hmm. I can’t think of anything cool. I just keep thinking of negative things.

Are you a patient person? No.

What holiday should exist but doesn't? I don’t know.

What's the best joke you ever heard? I don’t know, man.

Is your hair natural or dyed? I dye it red, but it’s been almost a year so my natural hair color has outgrown quiteee a bit.

What is under your bed right now? Nothing.

If you drive do you frequently speed? I don’t drive.

What is the world's best song to dance to? There’s a ton of great, upbeat, perfect dance songs.

What song was on the last time you danced with someone? I haven’t danced with anyone.

Do you prefer Disney or Warner Brothers? I watch stuff from both, but I mean Disney will always hold a special place. 

Would you consider yourself to be romantic? I haven’t had a chance to really find out.

If the earth stopped rotating would we all fly off? We’d be swept away.

If you had to choose would you live on the equator or at the North Pole? I wanna live with Santa. haha.

Would you rather give up listening to music or watching television? I mean, I love music but I don’t listen to it as much as I used to. I love having favorite shows and movies to binge watch and obsess over. Ideally, I’d like to just keep both, though. Thanks.

What do you think makes someone a hero? People have their own ideas about what makes someone a hero.

What cartoon would you like to be a character in? Hmm. Can it be something Disney?

Name one thing that turns your stomach. The smell of old food.

What was the last thing you paid for? Bills. Bleh.

Get anything good in the mail recently? No. It’s died down since Christmas has ended.

Tell me some of your greatest fears. I’ve done this so many times in surveys; I don’t feel like it right now.

What's the most eccentric thing you have ever worn? I haven’t worn anything eccentric. I keep it pretty simple.

Have you ever caught an insect and kept it as a pet? Ew, noooo.

You are spending the night alone in the woods and may bring only 3 items... A tent, food, my phone. 

List five people you love starting with the one you love the absolute most. I love my family, which includes my doggo. They’re all my number 1.

If you could have 3 wishes...but none of them could be for yourself...what would you wish for? The end of the pandemic, no one would have to ever go hungry, and no more violence.

How much money would it take to get you to drive to school naked in? I would never do that.

Have you ever been on the radio or on TV? I’ve been on the local news before. It was after my accident.

Have you ever named an individual part of your body? No.

Is there anyone you trust completely? Yes.

Have you ever lost someone without having the chance to say goodbye? Yes. 

Would you rather have an indoor Jacuzzi or an outdoor pool? I’d prefer an indoor pool instead of a jacuzzi. 

Would you consider yourself to be intelligent? No.

Would you consider yourself to be wise? No.

Would you ever creep into the subway tunnels to go exploring? No. That would be difficult for me to do anyway.

Would you rather be a world political leader or a rock star? I really don’t want to be either of those things.

Have you ever given someone a love letter that you wrote? Not a love letter per se, but I’ve written someone a long message expressing exactly how I feel about them and the hurt I’ve felt and pretty much just laid everything out on the table.

Are you looking forward to any concerts right now? There aren’t concerts going on.

About how many emails do you get a day? Like 20-30ish.

Have you ever though about hitchhiking across the country? Uh, I would never, ever hitchhike. 

Who would you bring with you on this kind of a road trip? I would have a road trip with just people I know.

If you are single, at about what age do you think you will be ready to settle down? I don’t know. I just don’t feel a relationship is a good idea for me right now. It’s not my where my focus is. It’s not where my heart is.

Do you often wonder, when you say goodbye to people, if it is the last time? It’s crossed my mind at times.

What movie are you most looking forward to seeing when it comes out? I’m excited for new Marvel movies, the new Halloween movie, and the new Scream movie. I look forward to seeing what else is coming out. 

What's on your key chain besides keys? I actually only have one key, but I have a ton of keychains. 

How do you feel about endangered species? It’s sad.

What was the last CD you bought? It’s been several years since I last bought a CD, so I don’t recall.

Would you be willing to go hang gliding? Noooo.

Have you ever taken a lock of someone else's hair? Uh, no.

Have you ever given anyone a lock of your hair? My mom has a lock of mine from when I had my first haircut as a baby.

If you had a locket what would you put inside? A photo of my family.

What is the difference (if any) between madness and brilliance? That makes me think of Jack Sparrow quote, “it’s remarkable how often these two traits coincide.”

Write any random sentence here Nah.

Say the sentence you wrote out loud. Did anybody answer?

If you were to hit redial on your phone right now, who would it call? I don’t think there’s a redial button, but the last person I called was my mom.

Miracle on 34th street: which is better the original or remake? I’ve actually never seen either one.

Have you ever been in a parade? No.

Do you turn the base up all the way in your car? The volume is at a reasonable level. Do you care if what you do annoys others? I mean, yes. Unless it was like, “it annoys me how much you drink coffee”, in which case I wouldn’t give a shit haha. You get the idea.

What keeps you from being happy? Depression.

Can you talk for one hour without using the word 'like'? *shrug* Maybe.

Why is it that a fly can't bird but a bird can fly? Because a bird is an animal and not an action. 

What websites are addictive to you? Tumblr and YouTube.

Who do you love so much that you would clean live maggots out of their garb? I love my family more than anything, but... klsjfksjdflk I’d have to get someone else to do that I’m sorry. D:

Have you filled out an organ donor card? No.

How many oxymorons can you think of? Pretty ugly. I don’t feel like thinking of more.

How many years old is your diary/livejournal/myspace? I’ve had this survey Tumblr since 2014.

Would you ever wear vinyl pants? No.

What was the last thing that you printed out? I don’t even remember, it’s been a long time.

What are you dependent on? My family.

What do you look forward to each day? My first cup of coffee.

What did you think of the Columbine shootings? It was horrific.

What takes your breath away? Hm.

Have you done anything recently that you regret? Yes.

Will you ever do it again? I’m very stubborn.

In your opinion what gives people depth and character? Experiences?

What’s the name of your favorite band? Linkin Park.

Do you have an account on neopets.com? Aw, I did when I was a kid. I loved neopets.

Who is the next person you will hug? The only person I really hug is my mom. 

Where was your last vacation to? Disneyland almost a year ago.

Where was your last car ride to? The doctor.

Where was your last bus ride to? I used to take it sometimes when I was in college.

Where did you last walk to? It’s been yearsss.

What is the worst band in the universe? I don’t know.

What is the next book you want to read? I’m about to start a new one called, “Anything For You” by Marissa Finch.

What gives you a peaceful feeling? Being at the beach watching and listening to the ocean waves crash in and out.

Do you ever stay up late watching infomercials? No, at night my TV is either on The Hallmark Channel, TVLand, or CMT. I remember back when I was a kid and the only thing on late at night was informercials, which really sucked when I was up late because I was sick or just couldn’t sleep. I’m glad there’s actual stuff on now on a lot of channels. But there’s also other options if there weren’t, like YouTube or a streaming services. I wish I had those as a kid.

Are you a light sleeper? Yes.

Are you a toys-R-us kid? “I don’t wanna grow up, cause I’m a Toys R Us kid.”

Are you part of the mile high club? No.

Would you rather be part cat, or part scorpion, and why? I’ll definitely go with the cat. 

When you sleep next to someone who usually falls asleep first? I’m always last to fall asleep.

What is your usual breakfast? If I have breakfast it’s usually scrambled eggs with shredded cheese and spinach with guacamole on the side (guac and eggs are really good together). Lately, I’ve been really into breakfast sandwiches. I like to have either a croissant, english muffin, or sourdough bread with eggs, cheese, avocado, pesto, and cream cheese and 10/10 highly recommend. I also like eggs smothered with country gravy.

How quickly are you willing to take drugs to numb pain? It’s much worse to sit around and wait while it gets worse cause then the medicine takes even longer to kick in.

Have you ever had your car towed? I don’t have a car of my own.

Have you ever used Kool-Aid to dye your hair? No, but I remember a couple of my cousins did that when they were kids.

Would you rather be naked and famous or dressed and non-famous? Dressed and non-famous. This was an easy choice.

What band or singer do you believe started rock and roll? I don’t know.

If you had a large black vase what would you put in it? Flowers?

Would you rather live in the city, suburbs or the country? City.

Would you ever participate in a 'sock hop'? No.

What’s your age? I’m 31.

What’s your hair color? I think this question has been in every survey I’ve done the past few days.

What’s your eye color? This one too.

[canaryrecords]

NEW RELEASE

Among the quarter-million Ukrainians who arrived in the U.S. between 1900 and 1930 was a young man named Pawlo Humeniuk who had been studying violin for almost two decades. Variants of his name appear, but because of research undertaken in the 1970s-80s by Dick Spottswood, first and foremost, and subsequently Victor Greene, we have a pretty good picture of his life and remarkable career. Much of what follows restates work they published.

Humeniuk was born in a small town now called Pidvolochysk in present-day western Ukraine in 1883, territory that changed hands among several governments as boundaries were drawn and re-drawn over the half-century that followed. He arrived in the U.S. in 1908 at the age of 25, where he joined his brother with whom he opened a violin building and repair shop and formed a band. He lived and worked in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, where a cultural hub for generations of Ukrainians was the Surma book and music shop run by Myron Surmach. According to Spottswood, Humeniuk - then a 31-year-old father of three - happened to have been in the shop one day in 1925 when a representative of the Okeh Records label came in and inquired about village-style Ukrainian musicians who might be willing to record for the label. Surmach introduced the label guy to Humekiuk, and a recording date was set for December 8. Four months after that recording session for Okeh, Humeniuk began recording for Columbia Records, and, after a false start in March 1926, cut six sides in April that changed the record business in America.

According to Gayle Dean Wardlow, the record business in the 1920s operated under the premise that to break even on a record, labels had to sell 500 copies and that they were looking for one in every ten recordings they released to turn a significant profit. It was in this context that a 12” disc titled “Ukrainian Wedding” made by Humeniuk in April 1925 sold well over 100,000 copies, essentially assuring him a steady recording career for the next fifteen years and creating a new market out of whole-cloth for recordings of rural music made by Slavs in the U.S. Pekka Gronow pointed out that while Ukrainians were roughly the nineteenth largest foreign-born ethnic-language group in the U.S. in 1940, they were ranked seventh among groups represented in releases by Columbia Records during the years 1923-50. While there were about two-and-a-half million Poles in the U.S., Poles released about 800 discs during that period, while there were less than 100,000 Ukrainians, who released 430 discs. This could, in a sense, partly be accounted for by the runaways success of Humeniuk’s “Ukrainian Wedding” recording.

There were several factors at play in the disc’s sales. Certainly it had to do with the personalities of Ewgen Zukowski and Rosa Krasnowska, the comedian-actor-singers who performed as the vocal stars. Their abilities to project a sense of the real-life joys and sorrows in the midst of the emotionally-charged moment of the “wedding” was a key. The performances were essentially a mini-play, alternating dialogue and music over eight minutes across two sides of the disc, bridging the technological gap between staged theater and radio drama. It was all very recognizable, the tears and the laughter and the dancing, not only to Ukrainians but also many other immigrants from Eastern Europe. It felt like home.

Surmach later said of Humeniak: "He made it like [a] village song, just folk, really what they play ... in the villages ... without looking [at] notes. He would usually close his eyes [when hey played]. And when he made ... records , I put [them] on the phonograph and people [said], 'Oh, that's how they play[ed] in my village.' And they [would] stop to buy. And I couldn't get enough of those records." (Quoted by Victor Greene in A Passion for Polka: Old-Time Ethnic Music in America, University of California Press, 1992.)

Dozens of variants followed in its wake, because when you have a winning formula in the entertainment business, you milk it. So, to this day nearly 100 years later, any given pile of Slavic 78 rpm discs of the 1920s-30s in any given basement, attic, or yard sale will include a certain number of skits with musical interludes. Newspaper documentation shows that performances of staged “mock” weddings performed by traveling troupes and lasting five hours were popular entertainment among Ukrainians in Pennsylvania and New Jersey during the early 1930s.

Although at the time of this writing, we are lacking much in the way of biographical material on Ewgen (or Eugen) Zukowsky (b. 1896; d. 1961), it is clear that he recorded prolifically through the 20s and 30s, having cut over 200 performances under his own name between 1926 and 1938 in addition to the scores of discs he made with Krasnowska and Humeniuk during the same period. We have a little more information about Rosa (Ruzalia or Rose) Kraswnowski who was born April, 16 1897 in the village of Dahowa, now central Poland and emigrated July 1911. In 1930 she was living singly as a boarder at 121 E 10th St. on Manhattan and she identified herself as a dishwasher to a census enumerator. On her 1938 petition for citizenship, her address was 544 E 60th St. in Manhattan, and she listed her occupation as "actress."

Humeniuk recorded about 300 performances under his own name (sometimes in variant form to be marketed to other Slavic communities) between 1925 and 1940, but he also performed on scores of recordings released by various singers, including Zukowsky and Krasnowsa, under their names. Among them was Theodor J. Swystun (b. ca. 1900). Sywstun was arrested in January 1928 at his home in Philadelphia for having immigrated illegally. He was a 28 year old student at Temple University at the time. A judge granted him a stay, releasing him on $500 bond. He recorded a total of 24 sides over a half-dozen sessions between April 1930 and December 1933. As president of the Ukrainian Society in Philadelphia, he spoke at the Ukrainian Hall on N. Franklink St. in 1932 in support of resolutions that the Langue of Nations should protect western Ukrainians from the violations of civil rights under the Second Polish Republic. He died July 29, 1963.

Issues of Ukrainian identity and nationalism figured into the recordings. The three-disc, six-part series of skits-with-music recorded in December 1932 and included at the end of this collection were translated on the discs’ labels as “A Trip Back Home” and depicts the entirety of an imagined round-trip journey of a Ukrainian immigrant to his homeland and then back to the U.S. A literal translation of the title, however, is closer to “On Seeing the Border,” the border in question apparently being the Curzon Line, the demarcation set in 1919 dividing what was then eastern Poland and what is now western Ukraine. In that context, the ebullience of the last two sides upon the protagonist’s return to his community in the U.S. is especially touching.

Primarily workers in physically grueling industries, particularly in coal mines and steel plants, next to Slovaks, Hungarians, Serbs, Croats, and Poles, with whom they were collectively derided as “hunkies” and “bohunks,” Ukrainian-Americans took immense solace from their peculiar status nationally both in their politically volatile homeland and as new immigrants in music at weddings, house parties, community dances, and on disc recordings. The ubiquity of Humeniuk’s style spread through his 78s among the Ukrainian community, including the community in Alberta, Canada, in part through their use by the dancer and teacher Vasil Avramenko, influencing generations of Slavic performers in North America. His virtuosity is unmatched by his apparent contemporary Michala Thomasa (commonly referred to as Michael Thomas), also a fiddler of the village style, about whom we don’t have any definite biographical information. We know for now only that he made 13 discs under his own name between 1929 and 1933 and that he served as accompanist to Ewgen Zukowski. We hope to fill in the blank that his name represents in the near future. He was good.

Pawlo Humeniuk stopped recording in 1940 as a new style of accordion-lead, post-Prohibition polka music became more popular in the U.S. He died January 24, 1965 at 71 years old. Many of his recordings were reissued on various LPs. A great collection of his 1925-27 recordings produced by his primary biographer Dick Spottswood was issued by Arhoolie Records in 1992, and an excellect 4CD set on JSP records produced by Chris King called Ukrainian and Lemko String Bands came out in 2011 that included a of lot of his recordings. We recommend both highly. This collection is intended to be a complement and extension of those.

[westallenfun]

All We Want for Christmas Is You, Chapter 1

WestAllen secret santa gift

From: @jade4813

For: @abbeyb77

Note: I hope you have a Merry Christmas, and I REALLY hope you enjoy your Christmas present!

Title: All We Want for Christmas Is You

Rating: G

Synopsis: When a bolt of lightning splits Barry Allen and the Flash into two different people just in time for the holidays, Barry struggles to find a way to tell Iris how he feels about her - and figure out if she really loves him or the scarlet speedster. My Westallen Secret Santa gift for @abbeyb77!

Chapters: 1/5

Iris had always loved Christmas. She loved everything about it. She loved the songs and the snow and the lights strung up in every window. The cheesy movies, decorations covered with glitter, and sugar cookies with brightly colored frosting. Every year, she looked forward pouring herself a giant glass of eggnog, putting on her dad’s old record of Christmas carols, and decorating the tree.

Everything about this time of year made her so happy, she didn’t complain when her editor called her at the last minute to ask her to cover a fluff piece after the reporter who was originally assigned to it got the flu. It was hardly the type of story to land on the front-page, but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t even bothered when a road closure doubled her morning commute. Instead, in the privacy of her car, she belted out Christmas carols the entire ride in. “I have been so good this year! And all I want is one thing; tell me my true love is near! He’s all I want, just for me, underneath my Christmas tree. I’ll be waiting here. Santa, that’s my only wish this year,” she sang off-key as she shut off her car and hopped out.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she continued to hum to herself as she jogged up the front steps to the Central City Police Department. Just walking through its front doors reminded her of the thousands of times she’d come to visit her dad at his desk, growing up, and the memory made her smile.

But this trip wasn’t for a casual visit. She had work to do. Pulling out her phone, she skirted a crowd of tiny, rambunctious children and leaned against the wall as she waited for the show to start.

—

“I look ridiculous,” Barry muttered in the next room as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. For the tenth time in at least as many minutes, he tried to straighten his cap. It of course immediately tilted askew again.

“You look…well, the kids will love it, at least,” Singh replied, trying to cover his smile.

Barry huffed and adjusted his hat again, trying not to think about how absurd he looked. Or how his tights were starting to chafe. “How did I get talked into this again?”

Singh chuckled. “Because you were late to the meeting where we talked about the governor’s new STEM initiative in the local school system, so when I announced the governor wanted us to host a program, everyone voted you for the job. Let this be a lesson to you. If you don’t want to dress up like an elf, show up on time.” In the other room, he heard teachers call their kids to order, and Singh handed Barry a giant plastic reindeer print. “That’s your cue. When you get out there, just remember…they’re six. Try not to confuse them.”

“Six. Right. Got it.” Sucking in a deep breath, Barry adjusted his cap one more time and then pasted a grin on his face and bounded through the doors. “Hey, kids! I’m…um…I’m…”

His lines completely evaporated from memory when he scanned the crowd and saw her. Iris West. Ace reporter for the CCPN. And girl he’d had a massive crush on for over almost a year. He’d known CCPN was sending a journalist, but he never imagined it would be her; she usually covered more hard-hitting stories than this type of fluff piece. There were rumors her last story breaking a bribery scandal at City Hall could land her a Pulitzer.

He’d been trying to find a way to say more than five words to her for months now, and he’d gotten too tongue-tied every time. And now she was standing three feet away, staring at him in his ridiculous elf costume. With tights. Her eyes bright with laughter, she hardly was hardly looking at him like he was the man of her dreams.

So much for suavely sweeping her off her feet.

His heart sinking, Barry tried to pull his attention back to the task at hand. He suspected his face was bright red as he stammered, “I’m…um…I’m Barry, Head Elf here at Santa’s workshop. I’m responsible for helping to make sure things are neat and tidy around here.” He gestured around at the lobby, which had been decorated for the holidays. Half of the area had been decorated to look like Santa’s workshop, and that’s where Barry was holding his show. Tearing his eyes away from Iris, he plowed ahead with the script. “Oh, my gosh! Who made a mess of Santa’s workshop? We’ve got to get this figured out before the big guy comes back! You’ll help me, won’t you?”

As the kids cheered, he held up the plastic footprint Singh had handed him. “Excellent! Whenever there’s a mystery around here, I help get to the bottom of it by looking at clues. I found this one outside. You know we elves can tell a lot from looking at footprints just like this. We can tell what kind of animal it’s from. Will you kids help me out?”

The kids cheered, and Barry tried not to think about what she might be thinking as he turned his attention back to the children in the audience. “Thank you! So, like I said, elves can tell what kind of animal left prints just from looking at their shape! Take a look at your feet. Have you ever noticed the prints you leave behind when you walk in the snow? I bet they look a lot like this.” He held up a large picture of a footprint and then stared between the two with an confused expression on his face. “Is this what the footprint I found outside looks like?”

The children shouted no, and he shook his head. “I think you’re right. What about a polar bear?” As he held up a picture of a polar bear’s paw print, he gave in to the temptation to look towards Iris again. She had a hand up, covering her mouth, but her eyes were filled with laughter. His stomach twisted at the sight.

What must she think of him? Given his luck, probably that he was a giant dork. He’d never have a chance with her now.

—

Iris tried not to giggle as she watched Barry teach the kids a few basic concepts of forensic science in a fun an engaging way. For their part, the kids were engrossed in his show, their excitement almost overwhelming when they realized that the “prints” Barry found outside belonged to a reindeer. From there, Barry found some crumbs and they helped him identify that the crumbs came from sugar cookies. Finally, Barry found some white hairs, which he held up for the audience to see.

“You know, I bet if we can figure out who left these behind, we’ll finally uncover who made a mess of Santa’s workshop. But this hair is white. Who do we know that has white hair like this? Is it me? Does this look like my hair?”

“No!” the kids yelled, practically bouncing up and down from their seats on the floor.

“No? Hm…I guess you’re right. What about…this pretty lady.” He pointed right at Iris, and she rolled her eyes at him with a good-natured smile. “Does she have hair like this?”

“No!” the kids screamed even louder.

Barry approached one of the kids in the front row. “What about you?” he asked the little girl with red hair and freckles. “Does this look like your hair?”

The little girl giggled and shook her head while the children around her shouted louder still, “NO!”

“Huh. So who is it? Who has hair like this?” Barry asked, feigning confusion for the audience.

“SANTA CLAUS!”

“Santa Claus?” Barry gasped. “Do you think this could be Santa’s hair?”

The audience shouted their agreement, just as the door opened and Captain Singh strolled in, wearing a red suit with a white wig and beard. “Ho, ho, ho! Did somebody call my name?” he asked jovially, with a voice that had grown accustomed to carrying over a room full of busy detectives for many years.

At the sight of Santa, the children lost whatever shred of composure they had left, squealing in excitement. “SANTA CLAUS!”

The wave of sound almost bowled Iris over, and she watched Barry wait for it to ebb a bit before continuing. “Santa! Did you make this mess?”

Santa hung his head. “I did. I’m sorry, Barry. Everyone knows when you make a mess, you’re supposed to clean it up. Isn’t that right, kids?”

The kids screamed their agreement, but Iris wasn’t really paying attention anymore. While Barry’s attention was distracted, she lifted her phone and snapped a couple of surreptitious photos, telling herself they’d be a great addition to the story. But if she was honest with herself, she really wanted the photos because Barry just looked so darn adorable dressed up as an elf.

She’d met Barry before, of course. They’d even spoken a few times in passing at various crime scenes, when Iris was looking for a quote. She’d always thought he was kind of cute, but that was about as far as it went. Every time she and Barry talked, he seemed desperate to be anywhere else, so she’d assumed that he wasn’t a fan of reporters and hadn’t given it a second thought.

But seeing him now, dressed up in his ridiculous costume and going through this whole act just to make some kids happy – and hopefully get them excited to learn about science – he was…perfect. Charming. Adorable. And so damn endearing, when Santa made his excuses and left and Barry the elf ask the kids in the audience if they had any questions, she almost raised her hand and asked him out on a date. She knew he wasn’t a fan of reporters, but maybe she could convince him to give her a shot.

Before she do something utterly humiliating – like give in to the urge to ask Barry about the dating habits of elves at the North Pole – a tow-haired child in the front row asked, “Mister Barry, is Santa really the Flash?”

Barry straightened, clearly surprised by the question. It wasn’t what she had been expecting, either, though she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised it came up. Ever since she’d broken the story of Central City’s resident superhero and given him his official moniker a few months before, he’d been a hot topic for discussion. Mystery surrounded him, since nobody had yet landed an interview, including Iris. That didn’t stop everyone in the city from having an opinion – on who he was, where his powers came from, what he could do, and even what it would be like to date a superhero.

“Oh. Um…no, the Flash and Santa are two different people. The Flash helps Santa out sometimes, though! It’s hard to deliver all those presents in one night, you know!”

“How old is Santa?” another little boy asked.

Barry considered the question. “I don’t think anyone knows. He’s really old, though.”

Undeterred, the little boy pressed, “My daddy said Santa and his elves don’t age, so why do you look so old? How old are you? A thousand? Are you thirty?” His voice made it clear that might be even worse. Iris had to press her hand to her mouth to muffle her giggles.

“I’m…um…elves don’t…they don’t age like normal people so…I’m actually pretty young for an elf! I…um…next question?”

A shy little boy raised his hand and asked in a voice barely above a whisper, “Does Rudolph really have a red nose?”

Barry’s excitement was visible as he replied, “Yes, actually! Some reindeer really do have red noses because of dense nasal microcirculation.”

“Micro what?”

Barry grimaced. “Six. Right. Um…some reindeer have a lot of blood vessels packed into a really small space, which helps regulate their temperature up at the North Pole. So that makes their noses look red. Rudolph…um…just has a brighter red nose than most!”

A little girl raised her hand. “Does Santa have any girl reindeer?”

He nodded, once again losing himself in excitement over the topic. “Absolutely! You know, reindeer are unusual because both boys and girls grow antlers. Of course, the male reindeer usually lose their antlers in winter, so really, when you see all those pictures of reindeer with huge antlers, they’re probably either girls or boys who have been…um…” As though remembering once again the age of his audience, Barry shot a desperate look around, blushing bright red. “Um…boys who have kept their antlers due to…um… Santa’s magic. Any…any other questions?”

Oh my god. He was so endearing, so adorably flustered, Iris’s hands tingled with the desire to grab him by his silly elf shirt and pull him in for a kiss. However, this turned into a bark of laughter at the expression of sheer terror on Barry’s face when another little girl asked, “My mommy said I’m getting a baby sister for Christmas and it’s growing in her belly. How did you and Santa put it there?”

“What?” he squeaked in alarm, and Iris had to smother her laughter behind her hand. “I…I…I didn’t…I…it’s…I…” His face was almost puce when Iris finally took pity on him.

Stepping forward, she cleared her throat to get the crowd’s attention. Meeting the little girl’s eyes, she said, “You know, my daddy used to be friends with Santa when I was growing up, and do you want to know what he told me? He told me sometimes Santa’s greatest gifts aren’t presents. It’s making wishes come true. So he didn’t really put your baby sister in your mommy’s belly. He just helped make your mommy and daddy’s wish come true.”

“So that means he can turn me into a dragon?” a little boy yelled excitedly from the other side of the room. From the long-suffering expression on his teacher’s face, Iris suspected this was a recurring topic of discussion.

She pressed her finger against her chin as she considered the question. “Well…I suppose he could,” she began slowly, prompting a glare from the teacher. “But I don’t think you’d really want that. And neither would he.”

“Yes I would! Because then I could eat anyone who annoyed me! Rawr!”

Iris laughed. “That is a good point,” she conceded. “But Santa loves you just the way you are, and you wouldn’t be that person anymore. And, anyway, Santa only brings presents to human boys and girls…and sometimes the pets that love them the most. So if he turned you into a dragon, he wouldn’t be able to bring you presents. And I’m pretty sure eating people would put you on the naughty list, so he wouldn’t be able to come visit you anymore. Wouldn’t that make you sad?”

The little boy looked stunned. “I…I never thought about that,” he murmured, sitting back down with an expression of intense concentration on his face as he mulled over her revelation.

“Anyway, it’s time for me to get back to making toys with the rest of the elves!” Barry blurted, and Iris could swear she felt his hand brush against hers before he started to edge towards the door. “Thank you all for coming and for asking really insightful, really hard questions. Don’t forget to see Shirley at the reception desk for some cookies! Bye everyone!”

Seizing the opportunity, Iris darted through the door behind him. “Great job out there.”

He jumped and whirled around. “Iris! I…thank you. I probably looked like a giant dork in this costume.”

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know. I think it takes a lot of confidence to go out there like that.” Sucking in a deep breath, she seized her courage. “So, anyway. I’ve been thinking. I was wondering if you wanted to –”

Before she could finish asking him out, several cops flooded into the area, racing towards the door. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Metahuman spotted downtown,” one replied quickly as he hurried to the door. “Singh said to get your CSI kit ready. We may need you later.”

“Oh. I –” Barry began apologetically. “I’m sorry. I should really –”

“No, of course. You have work. I can come by later for those, um, those questions I was going to ask you. You do what you gotta do. Um…but you might want to change before you go.”

“What? Oh, right,” Barry replied, looking down at his costume with a sheepish smile. “Thanks for the help earlier.”

“My pleasure,” she responded with a warm smile before turning and darting out the door. If there was a metahuman downtown, she needed to get down there. Everything came second to a story, including her love life. When she jumped in the car, she turned on her police scanner to the site of the action, pulling over a half block or so away and jumping out to get a better look.

She gasped when she noticed two tornadoes forming in the sky overhead. “Oh, my god,” she breathed. The winds picked up, lifting a semi off the ground and sending it hurtling down the street toward her. Iris knew she wouldn’t be able to get in her car and get away in time, so she turned to run.

Before she could take more than a couple of steps, she felt herself get swept off her feet and had a moment of terror that she’d been caught up by the tornado. When she opened her eyes, however, she saw that she was wrapped in the Flash’s arms as he carried her up the side of a building to the roof.

“Hey there, pretty lady. Just getting you out of the path of danger.”

“Um…thank you,” she breathed. “And I don’t want to sound ungrateful or anything. But with those tornadoes overhead, I’m not sure this is a lot safer.”

“I’m on it,” he reassured her, setting her carefully back on her feet. “Thanks for the name, by the way. The Flash. I like it.”

“You – you know who I am?” It hardly seemed like the time to worry about that kind of thing, but her brain seemed to be stuck in neutral.

“Of course I know who you are, Miss West. Believe me, you’re not an easy woman to forget.” Without another word, he raced off, leaving Iris dumbstruck behind him. She raced to the edge of the roof and bent over the ledge, watching the trail of lightning that trailed behind the Flash as she tried to get a better look at the action.

—

It felt good to carry Iris in his arms, Barry mused as he raced back to the ground. Not that this was the best time to think about that, but he always found it hard to get Iris out of his mind. He thought about the look on her face when he’d put her back on her feet. Like she was as captivated by him as he always had been by her.

Maybe things weren’t as dire as he’d thought. Sure, she’d seen him in a dorky elf costume, but surely he could recover. Maybe someday he could get her to think about him the same way he thought about her.

Not that this was the time to worry about that, he acknowledged as he saw a tall man with sandy brown hair tuck a metal wand into his coat before turning to the window behind him. Incredibly, the window seemed to ripple, its surface turning reflective, and the man stepped through. Another man with dark hair and a beard followed, and Barry followed without a second thought.

A second later, a flash of lightning streaked overhead. It arced toward the ground, striking Barry just as he touched the strange, shifting window into which the two men had disappeared. The impact blew his body backwards, sending him sprawling into the alleyway, and he groaned. It was the second time in his life he’d been struck by lightning, and he couldn’t say the experience became any more enjoyable through repetition.

Feeling like he’d been hit by the semi he’d saved Iris from a few minutes before, Barry moaned again. When he finally gathered the strength to open his eyes, he saw that he was naked. Desperately hoping nobody was around to see him in such a state, he staggered to his feet.

That’s when he saw it. A man dressed all in red, lying a few feet away. Even as he watched, the man groaned and struggled to stand, pushing his cowl off his head as he did so. When he finally straightened, Barry found himself staring into a face as well as he knew his own. In fact, he knew that face because it was his own.

Somehow, Barry was staring into the Flash’s face. Which shouldn’t have been possible, because he was the Flash. Then again, if there was one thing he’d learned in the past year, it was not to doubt the impossible.

Still, it was hard to believe his eyes. “What?” he asked, feeling all the blood rush away from his head. He tried to vibrate his hand at super-speed, but nothing happened, which is when Barry realized he no longer hand his powers.

“What?” the other man asked, sounding as incredulous as he did. Lightning sparked in his eyes, and Barry realized what had happened. As hard as it was to believe, the lightning had split Barry Allen and the Flash into two different bodies. What was he supposed to do?

“What?”

[trashynyland]

Because I ended up reading fan fiction all day I ended up not getting to do any requests. So I'll be doing those tomorrow. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about them! But anyways here's some character facts for you all! They ain't spoilers so don't worry. Unless you consider character ships a spoiler.

Jerry - Was abandoned by Sparklez at age 5, found Sparklez at age 19 and now harrasses the man every chance he gets. He tends to constantly complain and remind everyone, even Sparklez, about how his best friend he considers a father abandoned him at a young age.

What actually happened: Sparklez left Jerry for 2 days and forgot to tell him where he was going. Jerry left to go find his friend but ended up getting lost.

Grim - Abandoned by Dan at age 10. Doesn't know better. He has little knowledge about things and mostly acts like a 7 year old. Found Jerry at age 11 and found Dan at age 20 (same time Jerry found Sparklez).

SparkAnt - Seem to constantly bicker and argue about dumb things. Ant hates being ignored and loves attention. Sparklez hates being alone and loves to stay near people. The two hang out too much. They are dating and keep it secret but it's not a secret to the other Gem Kings. You'll often find the two holding each other's finger, in a sort of pinky lock. They refuse to hold hands in public.

Dan - Loves all things anime and manga. Has a secret yaoi obsession. His room is located in his underground lab. All lab workers know about Dan's obsession and try to sometimes talk to him about it, Dan will deny that he has a yaoi obsession and claims that it's for research purposes.

Real reason: He loves gay romance and wishes to one day be in a relationship with Stampy. He knows it'll never happen so he just cries in his room while reading yaoi. Dan's sad quote: "2D men are the only people I can rely on. 3D men just break my heart."

Goldia (Emerald) Kingdom - Named Goldia, in English its Emerald but in Concy its Goldia (no one knows why). The Gem Kingdom closest to the North Pole, or as Concy people call it, "The Cold North". Even though it's the closest place to the North Pole it's actually the hottest kingdom out of all the Gem Kingdoms. No one knows why but Dan's theory is that there's a "Hot spot" or "magma spot" under the kingdom that keeps it constantly warm. An area where the Earth's crust is thinner than most areas around the world. A place where magma or lava is closer to the surface. Dan has confirmed that it is no threat and that no explosions or volcanoes or disasters are going to happen any time soon.

Diamonlia (Diamond) Kingdom - Sits right under the Goldia Kingdom. The coldest kingdom out of all the Gem Kingdoms. They only have 2 seasons, Spring and Winter.

Characters and Creators - Characters use to rely on there Creators to survive. Everytime a Creator would upload a video or play Minecraft their Character would live but everytime the Creator disappeared without a trace their Character would fall into hibernation. Was later fixed and changed by Herobrine in 2004. Character have 2 choices now, they can either follow their Creator or live their own life. If a Character follows their Creator then they risk falling into a deep sleep if their Creator vanishes and stops making any videos or stops playing Minecraft, the Character will also have to act just like their Creator and follow strict rules. If a Character chooses to live their own life then they won't face any effects, they'll know what's going on with their Creator but won't be affected by anything that happens to them or what they do.

Army Crafted and Lunch Army - Creators come from the following teams: Team Crafted and Lunch Club. Both Army's hate each other and disagree a lot. Example: Army Crafted don't mind shipping of any kind as long as it's not NSFW or incest, Lunch Army despises shipping of any kind and is said to cut off contact with anyone that tells them face to face that they ship them with someone. Skies and Wilbur are the only two that actually get along with one another.

Palace Concy and Palace Earth - 2 connected worlds very similar to Earth but different. They have different continents, countries, land shapes/sizes and more. Creatures and humans live in harmony. Called "Palace" because they're places for creatures and humans from corrupted dimensions come and live new lives, a place of paradise and a place to start over for some creatures/humans. The Gem Kingdoms are situated on Palace Concy.

That's it for now! I will get to requests tomorrow at some point! If you have any questions about my Minecrafters AU then ask away. Drawing requests take longer than asks. I will get drawing requests done, don't worry.

[lurafita]

Avenging Santa Claus

Got this prompt some time ago, that I was really rushing to get written before Christmas. I hope you like it! 

Original prompt: here

There are Alphas and Omegas, but there is NO gender oppression whatsoever. Children call their Omega parent Mom/Mother/Mommy, and their Alpha parent Dad/Father/Pops, you get it. 

Avenging Santa Claus

 The shopping mall was a bad place to be at the 21 of December. Christmas songs that were sure to get stuck in your head for hours on end, were blaring everywhere; stressed people were running around in a perpetual sour mood, to get the last of their gift shopping done; the smell of gingerbread was inescapable, and it was crowded enough to make anyone feel claustrophobic.

One had to be absolutely mad to be in such a place, at such a time.

Or married to the most wonderful Omega in the world, who had given him the most precious son in the world, who had used all his four years of experience in being cute, to convince his parents to take him to the mall to see Santa.

Tony and Peter Stark, together with their little son Ben, had been standing in line for a full 45 minutes now. Any attempts made by the billionaire to bribe their way forward, had been met with a reprimanding glare from his husband, and so Tony had grudgingly stopped reaching for his wallet, and instead joined Peter's efforts to answer all of their overly excited son's questions.

“Do you think Santa's sleigh is invisible? I didn't see it in the parking lot. Oh no! What if another car drives into it because they can't see it?!”

“I'm pretty sure he parked his sleigh on the roof, buddy. More space for Rudolph and his friends up there.”

“Those two elves with Santa are so tall, I thought elves were s'pposed to be smaller.”

“Scott lent them some of his tech so that they can help Santa better while they are here.”

“Can Santa's sleigh go faster than you, Daddy?”

“Pft. As if some magical reindeer could-” cue Peter's pointed elbow jabbing him in the ribs. “hrmh, I mean, his reindeer are magic, right? And Santa has to make it all around the world in only one night. So his sleigh could probably out fly Iron Man.”

“How does he get all over the world in one night?”

“Google maps and stardust propulsion.”

“We don't have a chimney! How will Santa get in, Mommy?”

“Don't worry. He has magic portals.”

“Like Dr. Wizard?”

“Yeah, exactly like those. Just that Santa's portals look like snow and ice crystals, instead of Stephen's gold ones.”

“How does Santa know if I have been good? Is he a super spy like auntie Nat?”

“He is the one who trained auntie Nat.”

“Whoa!”

Finally it was Ben's turn, and the four year old didn't hesitate for a second to run up to the sitting Santa Claus and scramble into his lap. Peter and Tony, like all the parents before, waited patiently at the side, as they watched their son tell the bearded man all about every item on his list.

Tony was just happy that they would be out of the place soon, when he caught the deepening frown on Peter's handsome face.

“Something the matter, sweetheart?”

“Ben is reciting his entire wish list.”

“Yeah, so? Isn't that what kids are supposed to do when they meet Chris Kringle?”

But Peter shook his head.

“He said he was gonna tell Santa his super secret Christmas wish first, to make sure he would put it on the top of his list. I was hoping to listen in, so we could get it for him. Unless it's a pony.”

“I mean, it's not like we don't have the space-”

“He is not getting a pony, Tony.”

“Oh my god, that rhymed. I'm gonna have that stuck in my head for the rest of the day now. Pony Tony, Tony pony.”

Peter muffled a laugh, and Tony pat himself on the back for having managed to relax his husband a little bit. While Tony was definitely annoyed by all the smells and noise of the mall, he couldn't imagine how much worse it was on Peter's enhanced senses. The omegan superhero had incredible control over his abilities, but maintaining that in such a stressful environment could not be easy, and even Peter slipped now and then.

He took the shorter man's hand and brought it up to his lips to press a loving kiss to his knuckles.

“You good, Pete?”

“I'm good,” Peter gave him a quick peck to the corner of his lips, then suddenly smirked up at him, “Tony Pony.”

The Alpha smirked right back.

“If this becomes a pet name, I expect you to ride me every time you use it.”

It was astounding, that after 8 years of being in a relationship, 5 of which they have been married, and having a child together, Peter still blushed so prettily whenever Tony mentioned their sex life.

The swift whack to his chest in reprimand was worth seeing his husband so flustered.

“Insatiable.”

Tony smirked wider and winked at the omega.

“You love it. So, how's eavesdropping on our son and the Coca Cola mascot going? I bet Benny wants a cool Iron Man suit like his dad.”

Peter shook his head, eyes locked on their son.

“He hasn't said anything so far that we didn't know about and haven't already gotten him. For the record, I still think you went overboard. No four year old needs that many toys.”

“Ah, come one. I'm allowed to spoil you and Ben on Christmas. It was in our vows.”

This earned him a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“You spoil us all the time.”

The billionaire looked down into the beloved, brown eyes.

“Not nearly enough.”

Tony had never thought of himself as someone so disgustingly mushy and besotted, but Peter just brought it out in him. Peter and Ben. The two most precious people in his life.

God, he was a sap.

He was just about to lean down and give his omega a deep, toe curling kiss, when Ben jumped off Santa's lap and came running up to them.

“Mommy, Daddy, quick, come quick, this way!”

The little boy grabbed both his parents hands and pulled them with him as fast as his short legs could carry him. More than a little surprised, Tony and Peter stumbled along.

“Whoa there, what's up, buddy?”

“Ben, is something wrong?”

When the four year old had dragged his parents a sufficient distance away from the winter wonder land, he released his grip on their hands and turned around to stare at them with big, frantic eyes.

“That Santa has a fake beard, and he doesn't smell like milk and chocolate cookies like he's s'pposed to! He is an inpo.. interpolter... imposter! He must have kidnapped the real Santa! But there won't be Christmas without the real Santa! Quick! You have to call the other Avengers and assemble and save Santa!”

As the two super heroes looked first into the gleaming with unshed tears eyes of their son, and then at each other, only one thought ran through their minds.

Oh boy.

-- 

 "I'm sorry, you want us to what?"

Tony rolled his eyes heavenward. One would think from Sam's incredulous tone and expression that he was asking something completely ridiculous from his friends.

"Could you please not be so dramatic? All I'm asking is that you all get into gear, get out to the north pole, stage a battle against some kind of evil scoundrel, save Santa Claus in the process, and watch your language while doing it, because Benny will be watching via Friday's live stream. I don't see which part of this you have a problem with."

Unbelievably, this earned him even more disbelieving stares from everyone currently in the living room. (Which was Steve, Sam, Bucky, Natasha, Clint, Scott, Bruce Rhodey and Hope. Thor was currently traveling with the Guardians of the galaxy, but had promised to be back by the 25th.)

Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes, as if he was dealing with someone unreasonable... which was just uncalled for.

"Tony, you know we love Ben. But don't you think it would be better to tell him the truth, instead of all these theatrics?"

"Sure I do. But unless you manage to convince Peter of that, we are going to the freaking north pole and save Santa."

Hope's eyes widened in surprise.

"Wait. This is Peter's idea?"

Peter was usually the one to reign in Tony, whenever the genius came up with something completely ridiculous. But Tony only nodded solemnly.

"He said, and I quote: 'My baby is going to believe in the magic that is Christmas and all it encompasses for as long as super-humanly possible. And anyone who so much as breathes a word that might destroy his beliefs before he is ready to let go of them, will find themselves in a web cocoon hanging outside the tower.' End quote. Ben being in a constant state of almost crying ever since he discovered the 'fake' Santa, until Peter finally got him into bed with the promise that the Avengers would free the 'real' Santa as soon as we found out where he is being held captive, certainly didn't help. After that, Pete told me to get you all up to speed, and left for the Sanctum, to see if he could convince Wong and Stephen to help."

This left everyone in a little bit of shock, but far more willing to go along with Tony's request. There were few things scarier than Mama bear Peter.

Rhodey just shook his head, bemoaning the fact that he had chosen to get to the tower early, instead of on Christmas eve, as he had the previous years.

Bucky got up, grumbling about finding warm socks to go play make believe in the fucking arctic.

Scott grinned, trying to entice Hope into building a snow castle and taking pictures for Cassie while they were there.

Clint asked if his kids (the oldest of which was 8 and didn't believe in Santa Claus anymore, but would play along for the younger children's sakes), could watch the stream with Ben, because saving Santa Claus two days before Christmas was sure to get him 'Best Father of the Year' award.

Bruce was questioning whether the Hulk would even be needed for this, which Tony quickly shut down "You know Hulk is Ben's favorite, Brucie. He can't not be there to give Santa's kidnapper hell."

Steve sighed the sigh of the beaten, and went to inform Fury of tomorrows 'mission'. Sam followed as moral support.

Natasha, unflappable super spy that she was, just nodded.

"Well, I guess it's not the worst mission I have been on. I'm in."

Tony crossed his arms over his chest, a self satisfied smile on his lips.

"You better be in. Ben would be very disappointed if his auntie Nat didn't come to her super-spy teacher's rescue."

"... my What?!"

  --

 The next day, after Peter had distracted Ben long enough from his worry about Santa to get some breakfast into the boy, Natasha came striding into the room to inform them that they had found the whereabouts of Santa and his kidnapper. Ben gave her a big hug for being the best super-spy (after Santa), in the world. She was smug about it.

Clint followed shortly after with his pregnant wife, fellow four year old daughter and eight year old son. The kids and Laura would join Ben in watching the life stream of the Avengers heroically saving Santa Claus. Lilah was just as anxious as Ben was, Cooper, who had been told about what was going on, just smirked as he watched all the grown ups running around to get ready for their mission.

Scott and Hope had roped teenaged Cassie in to help the highly pregnant Laura keep an eye on the three younger kids (though Cooper would loudly disagree that he needed a babysitter), and help sell the whole thing to Ben and Lilah. (Neither May nor Pepper had been able to change their working schedules on this short notice to lend a helping hand, and Happy had taken his first vacation in forever and fled the cold weather to spend two weeks on a tropical beach)

Both Stephen and Wong (though the older monk would already be waiting for them at the destination) had thankfully been scared into agreed to help the Avengers with their mission, which made getting to the north pole a lot easier.

When Stephen arrived through one of his portals, everyone was fully suited up and ready to go. All the adults quickly hugged the children (Steve even saluted them, the dork), and to the encouraging shouts of "Kick evil butt and save Santa!" (and the barely repressed snickers from Laura, Cooper and Cassie), earth's mightiest heroes stepped through the magical portal into the blazing cold of the north pole.

Antman wrapped his arms around himself immediately.

"Why exactly isn't Santa being held captive in Florida?"

Iron Man and Spiderman quickly looked at each other, a little stunned.

"Oops."

  --

 The rescue mission had, unsurprisingly, been a complete success. Wong and Stephen had created some truly fantastical illusions of shadow creatures for the Avengers to fight, and Hulk to smash. (Nothing too scary looking though. Peter would web them up if Ben came out of this with nightmares about dark, red eyed monsters)

Spiderman and Iron Man had then taken on the evil kidnapper himself (One of Stephen's clones, that had been transformed to look like that Pitch Black dude from that pixar movie Ben couldn't get enough of)

It was Natasha who had broken Santa Claus (a magically disguised Wong), from his iron cage not far from the battle field. She had even bowed to her former 'teacher', and teased him about eating too many cookies and losing his edge in his old days. 'Santa' had shook the hands of all of the Avengers and then waved into Iron Man's suit camera to the kids at home, and promised to deliver all their presents on time. He thanked Ben especially, for figuring out his fake doppelganger. Back in the tower's penthouse in New York, little Ben was screeching with joy.

  --

 It was six a.m. on the 25th of December, and Tony and Peter Stark were enjoying what would surely be the last few minutes of peace and quiet they would have that day. The team and their assorted friends and family were scheduled to come to the penthouse for Christmas brunch and gift exchanges in a few hours, and Ben was sure to wake up any minute now. Rather than have their overly excited son jump onto their bed to wake them up because "It's Christmas, it's Christmas, wake up wake up wake up!", the two had gotten up a little earlier, had made each other their favorite coffee (dark roast for Tony, and a latte for Peter), and cuddled up together on the couch.

The room was dimly lit, most of the light coming from the brightly and colorfully decorated Christmas tree in the center. It was rather beautiful, and even the early hour couldn't mar the contentment the couple felt right then, lying in each others arms. 

"How much time do you think we have left?" Peter asked, taking a sip from his cup.

Tony squeezed the arm he had wound around his husband a bit, and planted a soft kiss on Peter's temple.

"Probably not much longer. I'm actually surprised Ben hasn't-" Which was the exact moment that a joyfully shrill, childish scream echoed through the floor. Tony chuckled. "-woken up yet. You ready, sweetheart."

Peter looked up at his husband with a smile.

"Merry Christmas, Tony."

"Merry Christmas, Peter."

They shared a sweet kiss, just before their little bundle of joy came running into the room.

"Mommy, Daddy, look, look! Santa brought me my super secret wish, even though I didn't get to tell him! Look, look!"

And right there, cradled clumsily in his arms, Ben was holding a little puppy. An actual, life, puppy. As in, tail wagging, tongue lolling, alive. Peter was just able to hide his surprise and pull his son plus wiggling puppy dog into a warm hug. 

"That's great, Benny. Do you have a name for him?"

Ben nodded with so much enthusiasm, that the brunette worried for a moment he would get dizzy.

"Imma call him Ninja. Cause Santa got him for me, and Santa taught auntie Nat how to be a super-spy. And Ninja's are like the greatest super-spies."

Tony grinned and scooped up both the four year old and puppy to give Ben a loving hug and ruffle his hair.

"That's a great name, bud. How about you and Ninja take a look at all the gifts lying under the tree, while your mom and I make some breakfast and find something for your dog to eat."

Ben couldn't shimmy out of his father's lap fast enough, and as soon as his feet hit the ground, he sat down the puppy and the both of them ran to the large Christmas tree.

"Remember that you can only open one before breakfast, young man."

"Okay!"

Then the two adults quickly got up and walked into the adjacent kitchen. Peter pinned Tony with a scolding look.

"I thought we had decided that Ben is too young for a dog."

Tony scoffed.

"Yes, we did. So why did you get him one?"

Peter faltered.

"I didn't... I thought you did."

But Tony shook his head.

"Not me... Wait. If you didn't get him a dog, and I didn't get him a dog..."

Peter's eyes widened.

"Friday, show us the footage of Ben's room. Who brought in the puppy?"

A small holographic window appeared before the couple, showing Ben sleeping in his bed. Then it looked like little ice crystals glittered in the air, and formed the shape of a tall, slightly round, person. When the glitter disappeared, a man in a red coat, with a white, but rather short beard, and likewise short and white hair was standing before little Ben's bed. He did not have the figure of the classic Santa Claus from the story books. No big, round belly, for one. The clothes fit, and he certainly looked old enough, but he was wearing big sun glasses? (Actually, the man reminded Tony of Hugh Hefner) In his hands was a sleeping little puppy (Ninja), that he carefully deposited next to the sleeping boy. Then the man stepped back from the bed, and closer to the camera in the corner of the ceiling, and looked right into it. 

"Thank you, Peter and Tony, for everything you have done for the people of this world. And for working so hard to keep your son's faith alive for a little longer. You know, my friends call me Stan. Merry Christmas."

Then the man (Santa? Stan?) was enveloped in the little ice crystals again, and vanished in the next second. The hologram continued showing a sleeping Ben and an equally sleeping puppy.

Peter gaped. 

"Was... was that..."

"Friday? Why the hell didn't you wake us when some stranger entered our son's room?"

"My sensors have not detected any foreign presence in the young masters room. I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about, boss."

Now Tony was gaping.

The sound of their son's happy exclamation when he unpacked one of his many gifts brought both parent's out of their stupor, and they looked first back to Ben, then at each other, still not quite willing to believe what they had just seen.

"... So, Stan, huh? Do you think that puppy is magical?"

Peter couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. Tony joined in soon after. 

God how he loved them. His husband and his son. And his (possibly magical) puppy. 

____________________________________________________________

The End

 MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! 

(Okay, I know it's still quite a few days until Christmas, but I hope you will all have a wonderful and magical time with all your loved ones!)

[coffeecomicsgalore]

25 Days of Adrien (+6 of Marinette)

Santa's Village at the Trocadero leads to a funny encounter with reindeers.

Ao3

Chapter 13 – Reindeer

It was a blustery Saturday morning; a dusting of snow had fallen overnight coating the sidewalks with a thin layer of frost. There was a market event called Santa’s Village taking place at the Trocadero Gardens that Adrien, Marinette, Alya, and Nino had wanted to go check out. Crafters, farmers, and herders all participated in the event, allowing Parisians the opportunity to enjoy some delicious handmade treats or purchase any last-minute handmade Christmas gifts for their loved ones.  

Tom and Sabine always participated at this event. It was one that they particularly loved as they were able to get away from the bakery for a day all while enjoying the crisp chill air (according to Tom at least; the bakery could get quite warm at different points of the day). They also enjoyed handing out treats to all the shoppers that perused the grounds. It was also an opportunity for Tom to bring new flavor offerings that everyone could sample and comment on.

Luckily, Marinette did not need to assist her parents in the event until part way through the morning. This event became a little busier when the day warmed up a bit and the shoppers that disliked the cold could walk around. This allowed her to be with her friends and enjoy the event before saying goodbye to her friends to assist. This year, Adrien was also asked to help if he was available. This only made him reschedule any afternoon plans just to help out her family.

Adrien arrived at Marinette’s home early, hoping the late sleeper was actually awake. Her maman and papa had already left to set up their booth leaving Marinette to wake up on her own. Ultimately, this meant that she was either awake working on some design or that she was still sleeping the morning away.

Not waiting to see what she could be up to, he knocked loudly on the door to the home and waited for any sounds of life. Finally, he could hear some ramblings, a squeak, a sudden thud with a quick ‘I’m okay!’, before hearing the door unlock. Adrien could only laugh when the door opened to the blue-eyed girl with disheveled hair and a sleepy look to her eyes.  

“I’m awake,” she stated with a yawn.

“Sure, love, and I’m the king of France.”

“Ha. Ha.” Marinette said, deadpanned. “Come on in. I’m just in the middle of getting ready.”

Adrien could only look up and down at his sleepy girlfriend, noticing she was still wearing her pajamas, wearing only a sock on her foot. Her hair wasn’t combed, but he could see that she at least brushed her teeth – little remnants of blue toothpaste left on the side of her lips.

Moments like this make him love her so much more. She was completely comfortable around him now, not allowing this funny look to embarrass her. He remembered all those moments where her frustrations got the best of her so long ago. The cute events that made him realize how much she really meant to him. He was so oblivious back then, but not anymore. He adored this.

Marinette pointed to the kitchen counter, a pile of pastries waiting for the two to enjoy together. “I’m going to finish getting ready. There’s coffee on the pot if you want some, and you are welcome to any pastries.” She kissed his cheek. “I will be right back. Alya and Nino will meet us here. Could you let them in when they get here?”

“Sure, love. I’ll take care of it. It’s cold out, so dress warm.”

She could only pout. She really hated the cold. It only got worse as the years with the miraculous gave her more of her kwami’s tendencies – meaning: bugs can’t handle the cold, and that meant neither could she.

Adrien was enjoying a bite of a croissant when Nino and Alya arrived. Soon after, Marinette bolted down the stairs greeting their friends with content. “Grab a pastry. My parents left plenty!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Alya stated while Nino grinned as he grabbed a strawberry danish.  

Soon enough they were all bundled up, ready to head to the event.

-----xoxox-----

The four friends arrived to the Trocadero, stopping to soak in the view. The entire garden was filled with decorated booths and countless little makeshift homes, each resembling a space an elf could live or work in in the North Pole. Everything was breathtakingly beautiful and the dusting of snow only contributed to that effect.  

Conversations filled the air as they walked up and down the many rows. Alya and Nino needed to purchase a few items for their families and were able to mark those items off their list rather quickly.  

“The makers here are so talented.” Alya said excitedly. “I’m so glad we came. Everything here in one spot was a perfect idea.”

Nino and Adrien nodded in agreement, also holding bags of their own purchases. Marinette smiled, her mind wandering due to the cold. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a pen with particularly cute animals eating bales of hay.

Adrien noticed the loving smile; the same one she gets when she notices something adorable. He wraps his arm around her, both to warm her up and to gesture her towards the animals.

Alya and Nino followed them, awing at the cuteness in the pen. There were some sheep, a horse, and a donkey just minding their own business. Every once in a while, the horse turned to the bystanders hoping that someone had a delicious apple to chew on. Hiding in the corner were two reindeer snuggling together as they ate some straw.

Marinette had meandered over to them ever so slowly, not wanting to scare them with her presence. They looked to her without being afraid, allowing Marinette to pet their snouts. Adrien took the reindeer’s comfort in the action as his queue to do the same.  

Nino looked at the reindeer before crouching down to bend the stiffness of his legs from standing too long. Before he could get up, he could feel something uncomfortably heavy sitting on the top of his head. As he tried to look up to see what it was, coldness reached his ears as he realized the creature had stolen his hat.

“Dude!” Nino could only stare in shock, his hands covering his head. He quickly grabbed the cap from the reindeer, merely avoiding the precious hat from being ruined. “Not cool, my man.”  

The three friends laughed hysterically at the interaction.

Marinette looked at her watch to see that they would need to part ways soon. As they finished the last row of homes, they noticed a small line to the jolly old man sitting on the large chair.  

Marinette smiled as a thought crossed her mind. “Anyone want to take a photo with Santa Claus?”

Adrien furrowed his brow at the question. “Aren’t we a little old for this?”  

“Come on. It would be fun! Haven’t you ever taken a photo with Santa before? Anyways, I would like to have one taken with my three best friends.”

Adrien frowned a bit. “Actually, no. Father never allowed me to do it. Didn’t work for his ‘brand’.” Adrien grumbled a bit as he air-quoted the word “brand”.

Alya, Nino and Marinette looked at each other with mutual determination.

“That settles it!” Marinette grabs Adrien’s hand before heading towards the line. “We are all taking a photo. And you will be sitting in Santa’s lap. No exceptions!”

Adrien laughed at her excitement. So he felt a little old doing this, but she’s right. He has never had the opportunity to do this.  

When they reached Santa Claus, the couples took turns sitting on his lap before taking a group photo. Adrien sat on Santa’s lap in both photos, Nino mirroring him in his own photos. They all enjoyed the interaction, Santa included with a boisterous jolly laugh. “Merry Christmas!”

When they received their photos, Alya and Marinette hugged while Nino and Adrien fist bumped their goodbyes.  

“Alright, so that was fun.” Adrien laughed as he thought of the photos.

“I told you!” Marinette gleamed. “Now let’s head to Maman’s and Papa’s booth. They want us to pass out their newest flavor of hot cocoa!”

“Mmmm.” was the only thing Adrien could muster up before being dragged by Marinette.