#I wrote most of this weeks ago

[t0tally-n0t-3m0]

Spoilers for season 5 of tma

How am I supposed to move on with my life knowing that Jon was doomed from the beginning? The second touched that goddamned Lietner he was done for. And Elias knew this. That's why he made Jon head Archivist. That's why he put Jon through all that bullshit. And that's why he told Jon in his little ritual-statement that it was all just rotten luck because he couldn’t let Jon believe that he had any chance of saving the world.

[serpentface]

Pylidaigh

(A story to teach children about winter safety.)

Thirty years ago was the worst winter in living memory. Even in the lowlands the rains came only as blizzards and pelting sleet, and in the mountains the snow was so deep it almost came up to your knees, and the cold was so bitter that you could feel the blood freezing in your cheeks. The winter barley was dead before it could be born, and cattle and horses starved and perished in huddled, shivering masses. Many people died that year.

I speak now of one of them. He was a stubborn old man, still quite fit in body and defiant to the point of foolishness, and so he had deigned to travel even in these conditions. Only a short distance, mind you, a path between two villages that would be a breezy two hour's walk in good weather. But this was not good weather. The journey had taken up most of the daylight hours, and there was still a good ways to go. The sun was setting red across the low plains far to the west, and a mass of dark cloud loomed in the east. The old man was growing very, very tired.

He passed into a thick copse of pines where the snow was shallow, and he considered stopping to rest until morning. It would be a miserable night, to be sure, but he could tough it out. He had the warmest of woolen coats, and there was plenty of fuel about for a fire and good shelter if the weather turned. But now, in the distance of the valley beneath him, he could see the lights of his village. He was so close! He would just have to trudge his way down a little longer, and then he would be bundled in blankets in front of a warm hearth with some hot mead, and this sorry excursion would be no more than a bad memory. A little snow couldn't defeat him.

So he set out with renewed vigor, leaving the trees behind him. The eastern wind whistled past his ears, picking up now, and a crow flew right in front of his face and lit itself on a lone pine. It cawed three times in warning. He cursed at it.

And soon the wind had turned into a gale, and it carried with it a terrible storm. The snow fell again, heavy and wet, and the lights of the village were lost to him. And the wind only blew harder, and the blizzard became so thick he could barely see the hand on his outstretched arm. His clothes were becoming soaked down to his very skin, and he shivered ceaselessly. There was great fear in his heart now, for he could grudgingly acknowledge that he had made a terrible error. But there was still hope. If he could just keep moving downhill!

But his fate was decided, for the cold madness began to take him. Even as he trembled, the old man felt as if his flesh was burning. He took off his hat, then his coat, and then his tunic. He took his boots off, then his pants, until he was walking through the blizzard naked as the day he was born. He felt none of the cold though, only a terrible, bone-deep weariness. He lay down in the snowdrifts and curled up into a ball. The old man died where he laid.

The blizzard raged on for two bitter days and nights. When it was over, the bad weather broke and the day became was sunny and mild. But the reprieve came too late. The old man’s corpse was completely covered beneath the snow. His very soul had frozen over.

Those in the village below had been looking for his return on the night he died, and by now were quite certain of his fate. His family wept and mourned for the beloved old fool, but none dared to go look for his body, for this had its own dangers.

"We will search for him as soon as we can, but not yet," the old man's son said. "If he froze to death in that storm (and he certainly did), waiting a little longer won't make any difference. We will find him when the snow has melted."

But the dead man's grandson had inherited some of his grandfather's obstinate bravery, and was having none of this cowardly talk. The day was beautiful and clear, and so fair that he could have gone out bare-chested with little discomfort. This was hardly the kind of weather in which one was met with an icy death, or any of the worse things that a bad winter can bring. So he set out, in secret, along the path to the upper village.

The youth did not have to travel very long before he found signs of his elder. There was a hat blown up against a shriveled old oak, and a boot stuck out from a snowdrift. But there was no sign of the old man himself. The boy had already stepped right through the place where the man had lain dead, but he noticed nothing. There was nothing for him to notice. The body was gone.

He kept on walking and looking for signs. And as he traveled, he started to hear something. It was the sound of footsteps, crunch, crunch, crunch. And the sound of something dragging over the snow, sssssss. The youth saw nothing when he looked around, but the sounds continued, growing closer and closer. He grew more fearful, but he could make out no movement against the white snow until the footsteps were almost upon him.

There stood his grandfather, but not as he knew him. His naked flesh was so pale he could barely be seen against the snow. He was little more than skin and bone, looking more like a skeleton than a man. His arms were longer than he was tall, and they dragged behind him as he walked, quickly now, crunch, crunch, crunch, ssssssssss.

The youth started to run, and the pylidaigh ran after him, crunchcrunchcrunchcrunch sssssssssssssss. He was a strong and athletic young man, so he began to gain a lead. But then the hissing stopped. The next thing the boy felt was cold hands wrapping around his chest. The pylidaigh had grabbed him, and it reeled him in with its terrible arms. It was much stronger than the boy, and he was pulled helplessly against the ghost’s freezing, shivering chest.

A pylidaigh is not a truly evil spirit, you see. There is little malice within it. There is little in it whatsoever, save for the endless, horrible cold, and dim memories of what it was to be alive. It remembers what it was like to feel the sun on its skin, hot tea in its stomach, the warm touch of a hand. A pylidaigh can never feel this warmth again, and yet is consumed with a terrible desire for it.

So it held its grandson close, but it wasn’t enough. The heat from the youth's body could not warm its frozen skin. It had to have more.

It pulled him in tighter and tighter, so tight that the boy's bones started to crack and his tongue squeezed out, and it still wasn’t enough. It had to have more.

So it sunk its teeth into its grandson’s neck and ripped out his throat. The hot blood sprayed out, all over the pylidaigh’s skin and the snow around it, and it still wasn’t enough. It had to have more.

So it sucked out all of the blood, until the boy was almost as pale and shriveled as the pylidaigh. And when that wasn’t enough, it bent down, frenzied, and slurped up the rest of the spilled blood from the corpse, and from its own frozen skin, and from all the snow around it.

The pylidaigh was swollen up like a tick now, but not even a man’s entire lifeblood could warm its frozen body. It had to have more. So it left what was once its grandson dead in the snow, and wandered towards the fires of the village.

It arrived in the cover of darkness. The people heard it before they saw it. First, a brave dog barking, then a long, terrible silence. Then a sound outside- crunch, crunch, crunch, ssssssss. It approached each and every hut, seeing the lights of warm hearths within. But it could not gain entry. The villagers had wisely cleared away the snow from their doors and windows, for winter spirits cannot cross over the bare earth. All the same, it scratched at the doorways and reached through open windows from a distance, its arms searching blindly through the air for anything that breathed and bled. Old men and small children alike huddled in far corners, and wept at the sight of its empty white face and black eyes.

The night passed in horror, but the ghost was gone by the morning light. The next day was even warmer and sunnier than the day before. A few days later, the snow had melted until only little patches remained, and so a search went out for the remains of both the old man and the young boy. But there was nothing to be found, not even of the poor boy, for he had frozen beyond help too. The two ghosts had fled high into the mountain, where the snow still lay in thick sheets, and where they could wait in hidden, icy grottoes through the summer's heat.

Neither has been seen again by any who lived to tell of it, but they are not gone. In winters when the snow falls thick and lasts long, pylidaigh come back down the hills. The wise do not wander needlessly, stay inside at night, and keep their doorways clear of snow. But on nights when the snow falls heavy, you may hear them outside. A scratching at the door, the chattering of teeth, slow footsteps, crunch, crunch, crunch, and a dragging hiss, ssssssssss.

[chenziee]

Young Love

Written as a part of the free Calendar Project by @newscoozines! There are three printable calendars (2 gen ones and 1 shipping) -- this story is for January in the shipping calendar!

Check the project out to see, among many others, the georgeous art done by Florakitz to go with this piece 🤍

Get all the links here, or go directly to each calendar: Ship || Gen 1 || Gen 2

[ READ ON AO3 | KO-FI ]

—————

When the Straw Hats had left the Flower Capital, Jinbe had thought that was the end of the celebrations and festivities. After all, they headed to the snowy Ringo—just so that Zoro could pay his respect to the late samurai Ryuma for… whatever reason. Jinbe didn’t quite understand the ‘because I fought him’ part.

He had thought the festival over… but he soon learned to not underestimate his new crew’s thirst for partying.

As he walked around the festival, snow crunching under his feet, Jinbe took in all that the festival and its many stalls had to offer; for the most part, it was much similar to the festival in the Capital—same games, same drinks, same food… except there was no shaved ice and no fish scooping, replaced instead by bowls of steaming hot ramen and snowball fights.

The mood, however… that was exactly the same. Laughter and music were dancing in the air wherever Jinbe went, happiness almost tangible as people celebrated their new-found freedom. And, just like in the Capital, the Straw Hats were right at the heart of it all.

It almost felt ridiculous, to be honest. Jinbe wasn’t used to this sort of thing. Wasn’t used to people joyfully celebrating with pirates—celebrating pirates.

But that was precisely why he had decided to join this particular crew, wasn’t it?

A wide smile spread on Jinbe’s lips at the thought; he really was glad he had decided to take this step and accept Luffy’s invitation.

“Dango!!”

Speak of the devil…

Jinbe chuckled at Luffy’s unmistakable shout, one full of excitement and hunger for food. And sure enough, when the fishman looked up, the young man himself was already bouncing towards a dango stall, demanding ten sticks before he even made it close enough for the cook to see him.

Jinbe was about to call out to his captain but then Luffy stopped abruptly before he turned on his heel and called, “Torao! How many do you want?”

“Just one’s good,” came a tired response from somewhere around the corner—the direction that Luffy had burst in from just a moment earlier.

Huh… Was Luffy spending time with Trafalgar Law? Earlier, it had seemed like Law didn’t want anything to do with the Straw Hats now that the alliance was over—Jinbe didn’t even know he came to Ringo as well—but now they’re walking around the festival together?

Maybe Jinbe shouldn’t be too surprised; Luffy did have that effect on people. After all, Jinbe himself was no exception.

Chuckling at the way Luffy immediately bit into the sweet, multicoloured dumplings handed to him—all four at once—Jinbe finally stepped forward.

“Luffy!”

Luffy paused, tilting his head back… before his face split in a wide grin. “Oh! Hi, Jinbe!” he greeted, speaking around the food in his mouth. “Did you see the snowmen back at the giant bell thing?”

“Not yet.” Jinbe shook his head. “I was watching Brook’s stage with Robin and Franky.”

“You should go, it’s super fun!”

“Not anymore,” a new voice interrupted. “Not after someone destroyed more than half of the statues.”

Immediately, a pout appeared on Luffy’s face as he turned to glare at Trafalgar Law. “It was an accident!!”

“Sure. If you consider ploughing through a bunch of statues while trying to carry a huge snowball an accident,” Law noted with a smirk as he accepted a dango stick Lufffy had offered to him.

“It wouldn’t have happened if you’d agreed to help!”

As Luffy’s pout only grew and Law’s smirk widened, Jinbe couldn’t help the easy laughter that bubbled out of his chest. If he didn’t know who Trafalgar Law was, he would think he was a part of Luffy’s crew. The way they were talking and interacting with each other, no one would think they were two rivals in a race to rule the sea and stand at the pinnacle of the world.

“Jinbe~,” Luffy whined, turning to his helmsman for support.

With an amused huff, Jinbe finally interjected. “Sounds like an accident to me alright.”

Law clicked his tongue, shooting the fishman a look. “Nami-ya’s right, you are coddling him.”

As Luffy stuck his tongue out at his companion, prompting Law to ruffle his hair in a teasing manner—yet another action that would have caught Jinbe by surprise just days ago—, Jinbe shook his head. Somehow, he felt like he was intruding.

With a final chuckle, Jinbe stepped away, waving the two of them goodbye before excusing himself.

They’d become such great friends over the course of this alliance; they should be allowed to get some time to spend together before the crews parted ways!

—————

Over the course of the night, Jinbe was happy to spend some down time with the Straw Hats, getting to know their habits and personalities better. He didn’t get much opportunity to do so during the festival in the Flower Capital since that was a much larger happening, not to mention they all ran off before the chefs at the Shogun castle even finished their work. To be fair, they had asked Jinbe to leave with them, but the fishman simply felt too bad for the hardworking cooks who took so much time to prepare the elaborate feast.

Here in Ringo, however, no such obligations were a problem. No one even knew them here—no one aside from a large, beautiful flame fox who had tried to pick a fight with Zoro for some reason and acting like the two knew each other well, much to Zoro’s own confusion. Which wasn’t to say that stopped the swordsman from rising up the challenge, of course.

At least before Nami stopped them while yelling something about property damage, debts, and interests.

Jinbe decided he didn’t want to know anything about that.

He met Usopp at the shooting games at one point, the sniper causing nothing but despair for the poor vendor there. He saw him again a little while later, standing proudly on an impromptu stage surrounded by a small crowd as he retold the heroic events of the raid and subsequent battle of Onigashima. With a few… tweaks to the story, one could say.

Chopper, of course, was busy running from one stall selling sweets to another, often accompanied by someone else from the crew—be it Robin, Nami, Usopp, Luffy, or even Yamato.

Sanji, as far as Jinbe could tell, spent the whole time taste-testing all the food he could get his hands on, soliciting recipes from people… when not too busy chasing after women. Or swooning over Nami and Robin in their kimonos and haoris. Or fighting with Zoro.

All in all, there was a lot of energy.

Jinbe still had a long way to go to be able to keep up with them!

Most surprisingly, however… Whenever Jinbe saw Luffy, Trafalgar Law was never far behind—and the other way around. Even when Jinbe saw Law walking around the festival with his crew, or saw Luffy laughing and playing with Usopp and Yamato, the other was always close. Almost as if they were scared to let each other out of their sight.

Jinbe couldn’t figure them out; Law always claimed they weren’t friends while Luffy kept declaring Law his crewmate. They bickered a lot, Law often threatened to cut one or more of Luffy’s body parts while Luffy bothered him endlessly… yet the man never followed through, instead indulging Luffy in everything he decided would be fun. It was a strange dynamic to be sure.

And somehow, it only kept getting stranger.

It was about three hours after the crew had joined the festival when Jinbe, a red bean taiyaki in one hand and a sake cup in the other, headed for the outskirts of the happenings to enjoy the event away from the crowds. It had started snowing heavily not long ago so most of the sheltered seating areas were already occupied, but Jinbe didn’t mind. He walked a little further away, up a small hill where a few trees stood, providing shelter of their own; surprisingly, he didn’t see any people up there, even though he was sure the view was very nice from up there.

As he trudged through the snow and came closer to the summit, however, he started hearing familiar voices.

“I don’t understand how you can still have so much energy,” one of them muttered tiredly.

A quiet snicker followed. “You’re just old, Torao.”

“I’m literally twenty-six,” Law deadpanned, and Jinbe could just hear the eyeroll.

“I mean your brain. Or your people energy. Or whatever. You just get tired way too quickly around people, like a hissy cat,” Luffy said, his voice shaking with laughter, completely unapologetic.

Law clicked his tongue. “Well, excuse me for liking my peace and quiet. Which I never fucking get with you around.”

“You love it,” Luffy teased.

“Fuck you.”

“No thanks,” Luffy shot back with another happy laugh accompanying his words.

“You’re impossible,” Law groaned… but his tone sounded light, almost as if he was holding back a chuckle himself.

Just hearing the exchange, Jinbe wasn’t sure if he should be interrupting them; their conversation felt… strangely intimate. Jinbe took another hesitant step forward and finally, the two of them came into view—immediately making Jinbe freeze in place.

They were sitting on the ground under the tallest tree, which in itself wouldn’t be strange, it was what Jinbe was expecting… Except they weren’t just casually enjoying the view of the festival like Jinbe thought and was planning to do himself.

No; instead, Luffy was sitting in Law’s lap, his arms thrown over the taller man’s shoulders while one of Law’s hands rested casually on Luffy’s thighs, his thumb rubbing slow circles into the fabric of Luffy’s kimono. His other hand was brushing back Luffy’s hair, hair which was covered in so much snow that he almost looked like his awakened form. Soon, Law was stroking Luffy’s cheek, guiding him closer… until their lips connected.

Jinbe felt a blush rising to his face.

Yeah, he definitely shouldn’t be here.

As he slowly turned away and started going back the way he came as quietly as he could, he thought back to two years ago, to the time when Law appeared in the middle of Marineford, risking his own and his crew’s lives to get Luffy to safety for seemingly no reason. 

He thought back to the two weeks they had spent in the confines of Law’s sub, the surgeon spending every waking moment with Luffy, making sure his vitals were stable and he wasn’t in danger. Back then, Jinbe assumed it was simply doctor’s pride that didn’t allow Law to stop looking after his critically injured patient. He believed Law when he said he had decided to save Luffy’s life on a whim. He concluded there was nothing really to it other than Law finding Luffy interesting after their encounter on Sabaody.

And when Luffy looked almost panicked when he realised Law and his crew were gone after he and Jinbe returned to the shore after Luffy’s rampage on Amazon Lily, Jinbe attributed it to him being grateful for their help and wanting to thank them.

But now…

Now Jinbe saw a much different picture.

A picture that made a little bit too much sense in retrospect, and Jinbe couldn’t figure out how he hadn’t seen it sooner.

After all, the way Law had  been looking at Luffy this whole time, the way Luffy always asked about Law’s whereabouts whenever he didn’t see him around for more than ten minutes, the way Luffy was always touching Law in some way—and Law letting him…

It was all so painfully obvious now.

A smile pulled on Jinbe’s lips when Luffy’s snicker reached his ears; he wasn’t sure how long this was going to last—they were all pirates, after all—but seeing how happy they both were… Jinbe decided to support them for as long as they wanted it to last.

Young love and all that.

[hoyaanae]

ALWAYS HOME 树下有片红房子

When we think of home do we think of our hometown? our family? the neighborhood we grew up in? our childhood friends? is it a place? a person? a collection of memories? the time we shared with them? or simply, a feeling? does it warm your heart or fill you up with nostalgia? do you feel happy and sad at the same time? do you sometimes wish to go back in time and experience it again? does it break your heart a little but makes you smile all the same? does it reminds you of big moments, of celebrations and happy occasions? or just the mundane things in life? like the rustling of leaves that particular afternoon, the smell of food from the dining table, the chirping of crickets at night, the happy noise from the living room. for me, it's all of it. this show reminded me of what's it like to be home (as i haven't been in a while). we all have different definition of home but somehow, i think, it feels similar. it makes you feel warm, at ease, and sometimes, a place where you can cry your heart out.

it's a story of youth, friendship, family, and romance. of heartbreak, loss and grief, reconciliation, and moving forward. of dreams and failures, first love, "eternal love", and to circle back – home.

this is as straightforward as it can get story-wise, but the characters - oh those lovely characters, i love them with all my heart. they were written and treated with care, even the supporting roles touched my heart in ways I did not expect. I get to feel for them, understand their dilemmas, and get where they're coming from. It's probably among the few dramas where I did not dislike a single character. They just feel real and alive. You see different dynamics in each family, in their friendship, and their romantic relationships. The subtlety in which moment the shift began, where one character fall in love, when the crack formed, and when you look back, which was the last time before the permanent goodbye.

The thing about youth dramas is that you just need a certain formula and when you get it right, you get it right. And they done it right. It's a cute and easy watch but also prepare for some emotional waves here and there. A box of tissue is recommended. Each family conflict made me cry - not just once, not even twice or thrice. I honestly lost count. But it's a good cry.

In terms of romance, it's quite a slowburn. As a viewer, i saw, in its most subtle form, when and which moment did each of them fall in love. But if the characters can answer back, i think they'll probably feign ignorance or just outright deny it. But tbh i don't think they themselves realized that's when they started to fall in love. In Darcy's words, "I was in the middle before I knew I had begun." Everyone else knew they'll end up together somehow but they're the last to know. Classic friends-to-lovers formula.

The first half reminded me of the feeling of home, of nostalgia, of the memories of me growing up. It feels familiarly bittersweet. The last episodes, however, deals with the characters' inner conflicts, of reconciliation of past trauma and insecurities. It started asking the question "Are you happy?" It makes you reflect on yourself as well. Is your present self satisfied with your expectations from the past you? The "you" many years ago, when you were young and innocent and full of passion. Have you reached the goal you made when you were in high school? Are you on the path you so eagerly planned to take when you were young and full of energy and hope? Have your dreams changed? Or did you simply opted for the safer route? Did you sacrificed what you wanted for the sake of family? Did you compromised what you really wanted for what was needed at that time? Are you happy with the way things turned out? Are you at peace with yourself now? Or are you still in search for that one thing to make you truly happy? Are you still finding the missing piece to the puzzle that is life? Have you let go of the past that haunted you for so long? Have you forgiven yourself for something that's out of your control? Have you found yourself? Have you found your home? Are you home now?

[weidli]

[horse staring out to sea dot jpg] my emails ............ when will they return from their long and dangerous voyage from (checks notes) my professor's office

[loganslowdown4]

Remus: Man, I’m so hungry. Deodorant doesn’t really fill you up.

Patton: Oh well, I was going to bake a cake later, you could have some??

Remus: Hmmmm, what is the catch, pops?

Patton: Could you please stop swearing and being mean to me??

Remus: PASS

[s4pphic-sh3nan1gans]

behold, I am back with another bokris fic:

enjoy my dear friends :)

[luna-the-cretar]

Looking at the CM curse list and comparing it to the Tarot deck images, and it upsets me that basically none of the Deadly Sin curses are connected to their respective characters’ cards.

Gluttony is Gorthos (okay??? I guess???)

Pride, Wrath, and Lust aren’t even on any EOM character cards

Envy is the only one not connected to the Major Arcana (damn, Jericho is being outcasted, even in the tarot deck. That’s sad.)

The only correct ones are Sloth and Greed, being on the Chained Reaper and Briggsy respectively

I swear to fuck, I’m gonna end up rearranging this entire fucking list, this bothers me so badly.

[gothteddiesdotcom]

not to brag about being good at my job but I’ve now developed two separate tools for debugging entirely on my own within my company entirely from scratch without help and A. it makes my job so much fucking easier and B. my boss is thinks im incredible just because im too lazy to want to write the same bits of code over and over just for debugging purposes

[superfandomlife]

I feel so personally attacked by this series lol

Like, I've honestly been Shane in school (even tho I didn't always have the best grades) and I've actually been falling back into the same patterns again last semester now at uni. I find it super hard, not to bury myself into stuff for uni (or back then, school). I have a group of friends here that I really like spending time with but I just don't do it because I feel like I don't have the time for it or I don't deserve to take the time off for this or any other activity that I like (that I can't do while learning) and I oftentimes still think that I'm not doing enough or not actually doing as much as I always say that I am doing

[apocalypticdemon]

i CANNOT wait for this semester to be over. 23 hours remain. God.

[purposefully-lost]

Prey Animal, Acknowledgements

There are a lot of people that should be listed here. My mother, for one. Stephanie Reid, who stood by me for a lot longer than anyone would've expected her to. Maria Finch, the only agent I could ever agree to work with. I could even thank the late Devon Morris for that little favor he did for me, way back when. I could thank everyone who read this far. But I didn't write this book for any of you.

I wrote this for someone who has been dead for a long time, now. I did so because I was tired of the way he and I were being remembered. I have not and never will shy away from the fact that Jack was a murderer. He caused a lot of people a lot of pain. There are some things that even I will never forgive him for. But long, long before that, he'd been a stupid little kid trying to catch bugs out in the woods, and I have never been able to forget that. He liked fantasy books and beetles and Fleetwood Mac. He loved his dog. I think he wanted, very badly, to be alive. I think- and I do truly believe this- that he would have been one of the greatest figures in rock music who had ever lived if his father hadn't killed that bunny when he was fifteen.

If you feel that you will never understand why I loved him, fine. If you find me unforgivable, if you believe that I should be convicted for everything I hid, fine. The only thing that is important to me is that someone else in the world knows who Jack was. You will never know him the way I did, but I can't die being the only person who knew anything about him at all.

E.M. Forster's Maurice was a comfort to him as a teenager. He loved the movie, which I showed to him. He was very nearly recruited into his high school's theater department to play Lurch in the Addam's Family. Very few times in his life was he a liar. I've filled a book up with facts about him and there are still things I didn't have room for.

And I loved him. Still do. Always will. I've spent all of my life looking for him, and I'm not quite done, yet.

[lumity-rights]

not even gonna lie to you all if we make it through december by overnights is my roman empire

[thefirstanomally]

My biggest hurdle with writing is that I'll get halfway through a story/piece and then just...like...I already know how it ends. When I write I write to see what happens so it stops switching around and writhing in my mind, but once most of it's down I know how it goes. Why bother writing the end? I already know it.

[ghostofdiamonds]

I should NOT have gotten the grade I did on that paper holy fuck (/pos)