#Calloways

[silverseaming]

Summer drifts in on a warm wind, the heat climbing so subtly at first that it was hard to notice. By the middle of the harvest, though, the rays beat down with such intensity that man, beast and flower wilt beneath them. Only the wheat is uncowed, tall and golden as a sticky breeze runs ripples through the fields. It’s almost bearable in the morning — beautiful, even — when the sun only peeks over the mountaintops, glazing the crops orange as the sunrise. The stalks are still heavy with dew, Chestnut’s feathering shining with the moisture.

At midday, however, it is decidedly not beautiful. Despite setting out at dawn and having the help of the Mellors and Gillis boys, the need to harvest while the dry weather lasts means Kit can’t avoid the worst of the heat. By now his shirt sticks to his back, calluses throbbing on his palms. Even the faithful Chestnut has abandoned him to amble down to the creek, not that he can blame her. Each pile of straw tossed increases his longing for the sweet relief of cool water. It’s hard work, yes, but it must be done. This harvest, just like their first harvest, cannot be allowed to fail. Not when he’s risked so much for this, not when they need this, need— well, not even only the money. The success, the small joy of all the crops being gathered in, a bounty in one area of their lives, when others have been painfully barren. And enough to buy a Johnson self-raking reaper, he thinks, as he fiddles with the latest knot of twine. At least then Chestnut would have to pull her weight, rather than leaving everything to Kit and his scythe.

Just when he can’t take any longer, sustenance arrives in the form of Meg and Daisy, laden with freshly baked bread, jams, lemonade, and all sorts of other delights. This little ritual has quickly become Kit’s favourite part of the day — not just because of the welcome meal they bring, but for the view of watching them walk over the field, the moment before Daisy’s sticky hands grab at his where they come close enough for him to see their smiles. It makes something tighten in his chest. Gratitude. Guilt. The two never seem too far apart these days. Looking at Daisy it’s easy to forget, simply lose himself in her innocent happiness. But there are moments of sadness he catches in Meg’s eyes that bring up a whole new guilt, the old crashing harder in its wake. It’s all for them. That’s what he tells himself. It’s better Meg doesn’t worry. Not now. “Thank you, love.” Kit says, pulling Meg a little closer. “It’s no trouble,” Meg smiles, “And this way Daisy gets to be out in the fields with Pa, without driving me to distraction.” “Well, you two are my saviours all the same.”

[necessary-quotation-marks]

His mind is fucking intriguing as hell, I more than willingly follow every thread, every line of thought.

Krista and Becca Ritchie (Damaged Like Us)

[jadequarze]

Hells to the Bells

[yudol-skorbi]

worst tv marathon ever

[otterlyart]

"A voice to the side goes, 'And Grogory shouldn't have been drinking before this meeting.'

[ruidusnightmare]

liam and laura's in sync head turn sends me

[californiannostalgia]

The thing about Vox Machina is that they are a frat party that woke up one morning after a drunken bender and decided to hunt down the serial killers who murdered their friend's family. One thing happened after another and they ended up taking out some very bad individuals in power at great personal cost, which propelled them to mythic status.

But fundamentally, VM is a college frat party that got impossibly attached to each other in the process of trying to do some good.

The Mighty Nein are a group of confrontational, distrustful pariahs who are vulnerable to outside influences that try to manipulate them into a villain arc. But after they completed trauma dumping and crisis bonding, they closed ranks and ground every single one of their personal demons to smithereens.

In essence, the MN are an exclusive, protective battle blender that only saves the world in order to save each other.

Bells Hells are defined by extreme stress. VM was trying to save the world, and the MN were on a self-actualization journey. Bells Hells have to do both of these things at once.

They're quick to trust, which opens them up for numerous betrayals. They don't have enough power to protect against the losses of friends or family. All they've got going for them is their collective aura of tragic weirdness and their full-on willingness to kill immortals (fucking delilah).

In a way, BH view themselves as monstrous abominations. They gain trust from the unlikeliest people and will try to befriend you if they think you're a fascinating monster like them. They've never agreed on anything ever, but they're open to a lot of impossible things and take it in stride. After all, their own existence is an impossibility. And I think that's fucking special.

[magsowo]

fearneposting

[ohbeauregard]

C3E105

Bells Hells + official titles

[therosecleric]

exandria is NOT ready for fearne and jester's combined power I fear

[silverseaming]

Nestled in the woods of of Northern Brindleton is the tiny cabin to which the newlyweds returned home. There may be tiles slipped from the roof, and paint flaking off the walls, but it's home, and it's theirs. Within the four small walls, nothing seems to touch their happiness.

This sweet cabin build is from the Antiquated Brindleton save file by @antiquatedplumbobs!

[necessary-quotation-marks]

His love for his siblings toughens him, not softens.

Krista and Becca Ritchie (Damaged Like Us)

[suraelis]

From Critical Role C3EP110

MIGHTY NEIN I'VE MISSED YOU SO!

[yudol-skorbi]

they are communicating

[sango-blep]

🙄