#Simple Holiday Feasts and Flicks

[justsaying4041]

Favorite Holiday Movies and Where to Find Them, Paired With an Inexpensive Holiday Feast

The holiday season brings together two universal joys: the nostalgia of watching beloved holiday movies and the warmth of sharing a comforting meal. Why not combine the two into an inexpensive yet satisfying experience? Below, we explore how to create a cozy holiday evening with a budget-friendly meal to accompany your favorite seasonal films. The Perfect Inexpensive Holiday Feast: Shepherd’s…

[harrison-abbott]

one little family

Mamma Sammy was opening a bottle of wine downstairs which was her first alcoholic endeavour for three nights and thus she felt she deserved a little more; though she was keen to keep it secret from her son, who was upstairs, because she was one of those discreet drinkers and knew that she was unappealing whilst drunk.

Her son, Roger, was lying on his bed in his room with the videogame stalled, acutely thinking about suicide. There was something comforting about imagining hanging himself and he knew that his little sister had a skipping rope in her room and the image of him tied to a tree with a multicoloured nylon rope gave the cadaverous thought an extra form of zeal and there was no immediate issue with his life aside from a simple hormonal disparity which adolescence often reaps upon folks via nature.

His sister, Rosa, was out playing with her friends down at the park. Not skipping, but feasting on sugary foods they’d raided from the newsagent. Fizzy pop, too – they guzzled it down and the sugar had quite blitzed their minds. Rosa and the gals sat in a ring on the grass. She was telling them about her Dad, who she was worried about; because he hadn’t been home in over a week and the last time he was home, he and Mamma Sammy had had a huge fight. “What were they fighting about?” a gal asked. Rosa said she didn’t know, as she’d only heard snippets from her creaked-open door, with them raging downstairs in the living room. “But he smashed one of the lamps, too. Before he left. I heard this big crash. And when I went down later, the lamp was smashed all over the carpet. I didn’t wanna touch it in case I got cut. In the morning Mum had swept it all up.” The girls were clueless what to say but they listened with close glee.

Rosa’s Dad was called Elliot. Indeed, he had been staying in a motel for going on seven nights. He kinda liked the lost sense of adventure, and wasn’t sure whether he was ever going back to Sammy, or the kids. None of them seemed to like him, he assumed: and this notion of being disliked clocked in with a history of negative impressions he seemed to attract, all across his youth, his school years, college, etc, etc. Elliot, when he thought of it objectively, had very few friends – and perhaps there was a valid reason for this. In the motel room in the drawer by his bed there was a copy of the Bible, and, well Elliot had never been that much of a reader so he flicked through it from time to time and tried to concentrate on a snippet of the stark mini black words. Sometimes they didn’t connect with him at all. Other times they seemed to roll with thunderous power and he could see why this was the most influential text of all time. Then Elliot would get tired. He didn’t need to work because this was his holiday from work [he’d booked two weeks off] and his plan for tomorrow was to drive down to the lake where he’d been yesterday and have a think about his marriage and if there was any point in trying to keep it going. He’d thought Sammy would’ve called him by now; but his phone remained silent. This was her way, he declared: it was always him that had to be the peacemaker, and never her. It was a shame because she was such a beautiful woman and even though they were pushing 40, these days, still was; had her looks. Whereas with Elliot, he wasn’t so slim anymore and his skin not so bright, hair not as brown as once it was, brown as the colour of fecund fields. Elliot stepped out of his motel room to have a smoke. With his phone. He looked through his list of contacts and came across his sister Eileen’s number. He called her, hoping she would pick up.

Eileen lived the other side of the country. She did see him calling her but she didn’t want to speak to him just now. Elliot had been mean to her all her life and though she loved him she was still angry about this fact and, plus, she was tired after working all day at the supermarket job, so she simply watched the screen buzzing and flashing until it died and then that was it.

[chronos-lights]

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[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 154

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

I was able to get the Master Post cleaned up this morning.  I know there is a reblog going around with some of the links missing... I put that one up originally as a place holder so I could update my page links in chapters 101 through this one.   I did NOT anticipate it would get immediately reblogged, which made me squeak in pleasant surprise.  I’ll reblog the full post so everyone has the right one.

Also, thanks to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog for keeping me going and all your help beta-reading and checking my links.  You three are the real heroes here!

“The quiet rooms are done,” Hannah yawned the next morning. “It’s a good thing we decided to make them available immediately, because the first one had people scheduling time before we finished the second one.”

“How many did we end up with?” I asked, pushing down my own urge to yawn. I had always prided myself on being able to resist the urge to yawn when others did, and I wasn’t letting that stop now.

The model of the Ark came up on the table emitter, and Hannah zoomed in on the highlighted areas. “Right now, we have twelve, just like you set up for the second Food Festival. But I’ll be honest, they rooms are already booked for the foreseeable future, and I don’t think that’s tenable.”

“Agreed. I’ll talk to the rest of the Council, but at this point, we need to see about setting all available spaces for quiet rooms.” I nodded and added that note to my agenda. “Moving on, food vendors being allowed in BioLab2. Any updates?”

Parvati flicked the data to everyone. “Grey isn’t thrilled with the possibility that the food will contaminate the aquatics, but is willing to allow vendors in ‘The Fairy Circle’?” She gave me a questioning look. “They said you would know what that meant.”

I just smiled and shook my head. “It’s where I go camping. Conor managed to pull off a prank that fooled even Charly and made a Faerie circle.  It’s a good choice, though: ten, eleven feet across, accessible, and far enough from the water that there wouldn’t be any risk.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Credit to Conor on that one. But, Grey was very enthusiastic about the idea of setting up some picnic tables throughout the woods and letting people bring picnics.”

“I already have some vendors on board, there,” I breathed in relief. “Especially the ones who specialize in the type of foods that lend themselves well to being portable.”

Hannah’s face lit up. “Do we get to taste test some of these? I’m really getting some bento box and pasty vibes from what you just said, and I’m not sure which I’m more excited about.”

“I think I can get that to happen,” I laughed. “I wouldn’t mind trying some of the options myself, but I can at least already confirm that all bases are covered for dietary requirements. Next up, where are we on the holiday date?”

“Still working with the other departments to finalize a date where all projects can be completed, paused, or at least at a point where they don’t require direct observation. Everyone is on board, though.”

“That’s the biggest hurdle,” I confirmed. “Means we can proceed with at least putting the rest of the events together in preparation for the final date. I trust you two in handling the party aspect of it, and Charly is already working Bash on another Kink Night event at the Undine - minimal planning needed there. So, let’s figure out who is coordinating the paint-tag fight, and we can loop back to the plans for the party.”

“While I am entirely sure Charly can handle planning for both the paint tag and the other - seeing as both were her ideas - it doesn’t feel fair to leave them both entirely on her shoulders,” Hannah agreed. “It says here that you already had Conor confirm we missed Holi?

“By about six months,” I confessed. “So we’re pretty much both too late and too early.”

“I do believe the arrows would be frowned upon, in any event,” Parvati joked. “I still have her paint formulas - flavors are not listed, but there is a distinct lack of both black and yellow.”

“Those were… scotch bonnet for the black, I know that one. I think the yellow was gochujang, which would still hurt if you got it in your eyes,” I recalled.

She flicked her hands, bracelets chiming. “I will ask for a new formula for yellow, but I think we can live without black paint. The yellow was lovely, though.”

“Ask nicely, and she’ll probably give you the glitter formula colors, which I think are different flavors from the regular palette,” I suggested. “And the glitter is ultra-violet reactive, so that’ll be fun.”

Emphatic stabbing at her datapad ensued - impressive, because it wasn’t even physically there, just emitted from the band on her wrist. “Once I have those, I believe Hannah and I can coordinate that along with the party.  There is no food component, it is only for one day, so the scope is far smaller than the Festival was.”

“And besides,” Hannah added with a shrug, “whip up some paints and some spongy balls to soak it up, set boundaries, invite anyone who wants to attend. Planning done.” She dusted her hands off for emphasis, but she had a point.

“I’ve got the care packages well underway, so we’re solid there. The party. What’s the plan there?”

Parvati dismissed the schematic from the table emitter and sent a different image to it. This one was practically the opposite of what I had expected: where I had anticipated Food Festival 2: Pyrotechnic Boogaloo, I was instead looking at a park that I was reasonably certain only existed in dreams.

Soft green grass that my toes wiggled to touch spanned a rolling, looping thoroughfare. Trees arched overhead like an arbor, and were either woven with lights are absolutely covered in fireflies.  Between breaks in the canopy, a night sky filled with more stars than I had seen in my living memory.  Here and there small braziers burned brightly with fire, resting on sturdy rugs and dotted around with cushions.

“Vati,” I whispered hoarsely. “We can’t use BioLab2 for this, can we? Will Grey allow it?”

“We can, and they are.” Her smile was the feral one that usually preceded a coup de grace of event planning. “This, however, is not BioLab2.  This is the corridors of levels twelve through fourteen, leading into the lab.”

My first urge was to guess what she was planning, but my mind came up blank. I circled around my desk to stand closer to the table. “Okay, talk to me. Make it make sense.”

She nodded. “The grass is real, laid down like sod. The terraforming teams have agreed to let us use it, provided we allow them to collect data on how it holds up to so much foot traffic and include a post-event question regarding the tactile feel on bare feet.  So, bare feet they shall have.” She winked when I realized she and Hannah were going to make it part of the theme. “The trees are an illusion, simple light emitters against the corridor walls, combined with the existing texture of the surface.”

When she moved the image to mimic walking further down the path, Hannah picked up. “The larger spaces are actually where the corridors are longer between quiet rooms. Rather than trying to pull off the tree illusion, we’re going to create a  night sky with shooting stars, comets, the works.  Like a dream.”

“I like it. It’s not what I was expecting, but I’m even more impressed for that.”

“We couldn’t compete with Charly,” Parvati confessed. “She is already going to have our base desires covered.  Anything we tried to do would look like a pale imitation. So, we went the other direction: What else do we do to feel alive?”

“We dream,” I laughed. “It’s all a fairy tale dream, isn’t it?”

“That’s the goal,” Hannah confirmed. “A beautiful dream. One day and one night where you can live out your humanity however you want, without having to compromise.  If someone wants to throw paint with childish abandon, then stroll and dance through a dream, and finish the night at the Undine trying something they never dared to do before, they can do that.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds decadent.”

“I was going for hedonistic, over all, but you’re on the right track,” Parvati laughed. “Hannah and I agreed that everyone on the Ark needed one perfect day.  And since perfect is different for everyone…” She shrugged. “We just decided to give them all the options.  The quiet rooms will be open if their perfect includes a botanical garden, or a cloud… the mess halls will be open if it means a feast, or even just decadent hors d'oeuvres they could never make an excuse to try. It’s literally all on the table.”

“Consider it signed off on.” I still couldn’t take my eyes off that grass, toes wiggling happily. “Just let me know the date when we have one, I need a pedicure to enjoy this completely.”

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[speechlessxx]

Call It What You Want (Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

Summary: There’s an unspoken bond between the Reader and Ransom.

Warnings: poorly written SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), soft Ransom (because i love him idc), bad relationship with parents. This fic was honestly so self-indulgent because I love this song. 

Word Count: 3.7k

Loosely inspired by Call It What You Want by (the Queen) Taylor Swift.

Sometimes life felt as if you were playing a Jenga game alone on a table with uneven legs.

For brief moments, everything was normal. Your movements were delicate as you built the tower. Higher and higher it would go, but then you’d stop to admire your work. You would rest your elbows against the surface and accidentally cause the table to shift. The tower would collapse, and you would have to rebuild it again.

However, you never had a stable foundation to begin with. The table was always wobbly. So, time and time again that tower fell. And you’ll have to start over alone.

That was your life.

Your parents were wealthy workaholics. You don’t remember being held or cuddled by your mother or father. You had a revolving door of nannies. None stayed too long so you could form any connection. Your mother would catch them in bed with her husband and terminate their employment. Even through your father’s infidelity, your mother refused to leave him. You remembered her drunkenly admit to you, her 7-year-old, that she stayed because she was afraid of what others would think.

When they weren’t working, they were fighting. You spent nights crying alone in your bedroom as you overheard endless arguments throughout the night. Your parents’ voices would echo through the large house and you’d hear every single insult, threat, and slur.

Your family was sitting upon a tense string that refused to break.  

You had no stability – no constancy. You had no siblings either. Your school friends – whether they were from grade school or high school, it didn’t matter. They were all the same – were too self-involved to pay you any mind. You had no shoulder to cry on. No one to kiss the bruises and the scars away. No one to lean on when your life itself felt like it collapsed.

You only had your parents who both resented you because you were the result of a love that they no longer had.

Perhaps, that’s why you and Ransom Drysdale got along so well. Trust-fund brats who were neglected by their wealthy parents. Maybe it was a good thing that you at least had each other.

The closeness between you was surreal. You read one another like an open book whereas others had difficulty even pronouncing your titles. You were each other’s confidant, best friend, and rock. You found in comfort in each other’s mess.

It would be easy to mistake you two as a couple.

Both of you were once touch starved children, so you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. It was in the grazes of your fingertips and the tight embraces where you would snuggle your face in the crook of his neck, and he’d bury his into your hair. Ransom often kissed your wrists and fingers as he toyed with your hand in his. Every time you sat down next to each other, your knees were touching, or you’d be playing an unconscious game of footsies. It didn’t matter what your bodies were doing or where you were – you were always touching.

Strangers, and even those who knew you, often did think that you two were together. And when confronted, both of you would always scoff and say no. You were just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

But behind closed doors, there was something. Something more that ignited your skin and set your body on fire. Something more that left Ransom – the talkative asshole – speechless and panting as he tried to catch his breath.

You both agreed only to have sex when it was absolutely necessary.

“It helps us blow off some steam,” Ransom had explained to you while you just nodded in agreement. You couldn’t find your words. Your wits had been fucked to silence and your brain felt like jelly.

You have your shared struggles and frustrations. Sometimes a simple lay was all you needed to let out your bottled-up emotions. It made sense when you established the agreement in your late college years.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” you agreed breathlessly.

You didn’t do it often. It would ruin the friendship. You even established a “no kissing on the lips” rule. You said it made everything all too real.

But as the years went by, something else began to blossom. Something else established itself. But neither of you would ever dare speak of it.

It would ruin the friendship after all.

-=+=-

You hated coming back to your childhood home. Haunting memories were the only keepsakes you had there. You had moved out right after college and would only return for holidays – upon your mother’s demand. You always felt as if it were empty. The house was massive and for many years was only home to three people, excluding the help.

You sat at the table alone as you anxiously fumbled with the initial necklace Ransom had given you for your birthday. The dainty gold ‘R’ charm was between your thumb and index finger as your leg bounced while you stared at the untouched feast.

Your father had excused himself, saying he had an emergency video conference for work. You and your mother rolled your eyes as he rushed off. You both knew it wasn’t for work. Enraged, your mother stalked off, glass full of chardonnay in one hand, the bottle in the other.

You didn’t know what you expected. It was like this every holiday – your parents made no exception. You stared at the turkey before you. Your parents didn’t even last to meal itself.

Frustrated, you decided to wrap everything up and packed them into take-home bags. You knew your parents probably wouldn’t eat the leftovers, so you thought about donating the feast to the foodbank. You could drop it off on your way home.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You dug it out and smiled upon seeing Ransom’s name.

Surviving? Because I’m not.

You chuckled. Suck it up, Drysdale. It’s Thanksgiving.

If I have to spend one more minute with these assholes, I’m going to throw myself down the stairs.

No exaggeration.

Before you could respond, you heard your mother call for you. Her glass was empty, and she was staggering into the kitchen, clearly drunk. You wondered if she drank the whole bottle.

“What the hell are you doing? Where’s the food?” She slurred.

You gestured to the packed meals. “I was wrapping them up because no one was eating.” You decided not to tell her about donating them. Lord forbid that you tried to be a decent human and help those less fortunate than you.

Your phone buzzed again. You gave it a quick glance.

Heading home now. They’re gonna give me an aneurysm.

How’s dinner?

“Why would you do that?” Her brows furrowed, but with her Botox, it made no wrinkles appear on her aging face. She put her hands on her his, the glass nearly slipping from her loose fingers. She was an angry drunk. She always was.

You wanted to say that she and your father ruined Thanksgiving. If they’d only just sit down and eat and pretend they were normal for thirty god damn minutes. But every year, that was never the case. You were always disappointed. “I can unpack it if you want.”

“Your father is an asshole.”

“You could’ve left him years ago,” you muttered.

She didn’t hear you. “How’s the job?”

“Good.” You said as you began to unpack some stuffing. Get some food in her since she was already full of alcohol.

“I don’t know why you decided business was for you,” she let out a long sigh. “Just like your father.”

“I don’t like setting up events. PR’s not my thing,” you tried to joke, topping it off with a forced laugh.

She set down her empty glass and flicked her hair off her shoulder. “Could always work for me, sweetheart. I need a new assistant.”

“I’m fine. Thanks, ma.”

“No, for real, sweetie,” she insisted. “I’d love for you to work for me. That’s every girl’s dream. Work for their mother.” You frowned. I don’t think that’s it, you thought.

“I’d rather not be tied to this family any more than I am,” you muttered. This time she heard you.

An exaggerated offended noise came from her lips as she stared at you with her jaw dropped. “Don’t be an ungrateful little bitch.” She spat. “That’s why you never do anything right and that’s why you’re unmarried, unloved, and unhappy.”

“I’m unhappy?” You laughed mockingly. “I’m not the one trapped in a marriage to man that constantly cheats on me. In fact, I’m ecstatic that I’m nothing like you or dad. I’m buzzing with jubilation.” You couldn’t stop yourself. You knew you were worsening the situation.

“You’re a vile bitch that’s gonna end up alone.” They were drunken words. You knew that. But it didn’t stop it from hurting.

You didn’t bother to respond. You chewed on the flesh inside your cheek before turning away and rushing out to your car. You cursed yourself for leaving the food. It would be trash tomorrow. Wasted. Stray tears rolled down your face and you wiped them away aggressively as you drove.

Being alone was something you should’ve been accustomed to already. In fact, you were. You were an only child, had friends that never bothered to ask if you were okay, nannies that cared more about your dad than taking care of you, parents who didn’t even remember your birthday unless they were reminded by their assistants. You knew how to be alone. You were so good at it.

And that frightened you.

You didn’t want to be alone. You craved affection, companionship, love. You wanted that for yourself. But despite all the luxuries you were granted throughout your life, that was one luxury that you desperately wanted but seemingly would never receive.

You felt your anger bubbling inside of you. A pressure started building in your head – steam that needed to be released.

Luckily, you knew where to go.

-=+=-

The holidays were a particularly hard time for both of you and Ransom. Your families demanded your attendances at events, so you both were always forced to come see the very people you loathe the most. Throughout the years of your friendship, it became a tradition to check up on each other as you spent time with your … “loved” ones.

It was a sanity check – something to keep you both grounded. He had a big family, so he could talk shit about them for hours. You loved to read the messages he’d send you.

But this time, he had sent you several messages that you hadn’t responded to. He began to worry until he heard a car door slam in his driveway. You let yourself in. You had a spare key.

“Ransom!” You called out.

“Bedroom!” He responded. He paused the movie he was watching just as you walked through his already open door.

There was something wrong. It was written all over your face. He didn’t need to ask you if you were alright. He knew you weren’t. So, instead he patted the empty side of his bed, inviting you to come lay down with him. But you had a different type of lay in mind.

“How hard is your dick right now?” You asked, bluntly, as you shrugged off your jacket and tossed it to the floor.

A smirk crept its way to Ransom’s face. “Come here and find out.”

You kicked off your shoes and shimmied out of your skinny jeans, leaving your legs exposed in only your plain, black panties. You climbed onto his bed and straddled his lap. You began to grind yourself to his growing erection. The friction stimulating both of you.

Ransom groaned as he watched you. His hands searched his sheets until he found the remote. With clumsy fingers, he managed to turn the TV off and toss the remote to the edge of the bed. He heard it fall, but he was too preoccupied with the gorgeous woman grinding her pussy on his slacks to even care.

“Let’s take this off, hm?” Ransom asked, fiddling with the hem of your blouse.

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” you teased, stopping your movements.

“You’re childish,” Ransom chuckled, his tongue grazed the back of his teeth. He gave your ass a sharp slap. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“You aren’t the boss of me, Drysdale.”

He quirked up an amused eyebrow as if to say we’ll see before he pulled your top off your body. You were now sitting on top of him almost nude in your matching bra and underwear. You returned the favor, pulling off the hole-ridden baby blue sweater and exposing his body to you.

Your hands explored his chiseled chest and stomach. Hard as marble, but not nearly as hard as his cock beneath you, begging to be released from its confinements. You shifted down a bit so that you could undo his belt, but his hands stopped you. He grabbed your wrists and you frowned at him.

“What?” You snapped with furrowed brows.

“We’re on the same page?” Ransom asked you. He was concerned. Sure, this almost friends-with-benefits arrangement was years old at this point, but he still wanted to make sure you wanted this. He always asked before anything got too far.

“Please, Ranson…” your voice nearly cracked. He stared into your eyes and despite the lust being evident in your blown-out pupils – he was sure his mirrored the look – he saw the light red lines, an indicator that you were crying. “I need it.”

“Okay,” he nodded and let go of your wrists. Without hesitation, you began to expertly undo the belt and unbutton his pants. With his help, you were able to successfully pull down his slacks and left him in his boxer briefs. The tent inviting. Before you could reach into his underwear and pull out his friend, he flipped you over. You squealed in surprise as your back was pressed into his bed. “You need it, baby?” You nodded. “Okay… I’ll think about being nice.”

“Ransom,” you whined.

His fingers lightly traced the sides of your body. You shivered at his touch. You took it upon yourself to arch your back so that you could unclasp your bra. You threw it away, exposing your chest to your best friend who groaned.

“God, I love these.” He muttered.

His hands cupped your breasts, toying with them. His fingertips tweaking at the nipples as he ground his desire to yours. Ransom leaned down and latched his mouth onto one of your nipples. His tongue swirling around the skin as he sucked it until it pebbled. He then switched to the other. He’d also take a break from your nipples just to leave stray hickeys all over your chest, collarbones, and neck. He loved marking you up. Whilst his mouth continued its assault on your chest, one of his hands slipped into your panties and began to explore your wet folds.

And slowly, Ransom started to make his way down your body, leaving wet kisses on your skin. He kissed right on top of your underwear before slowing pulling the black fabric down your legs. You lifted your hips to assist. Once they were off, you instinctively bent your knees as Ransom pulled them apart and leaned down to give your pussy a broad tongued lick.

You used to be insecure of the stretchmarks on your thighs. When you and Ransom first started having sex, you were afraid he would find them unappealing – that it would turn him off. But your best friend assured you that every part of your body – including the flaws – were beautiful. “Nothing about you could ever turn me off, (Y/N),” a younger Ransom scoffed. The present Ransom, the one who was about to eat you out like a Thanksgiving meal, couldn’t agree more. (He’d often joke and say you ruined other women for him).

You were a moaning mess as Ransom’s fingers pulled your lips open to expose your clit to his tongue. He looked up at you from his position and the sight of you with your eyes closed in a blissful trance alone could’ve made him cum on the spot. His tongue swirled around your button in tiny, circular motions before slipping his tongue into your slickening channel.

“Oh my god,” you moaned. “Ransom, Ransom!” It was music to his ears.

He ate you out slowly, relishing in your taste. Ransom took pride in your reactions. You had one hand clasping the ‘R’ charm around your neck and the other lost in his hair. He smirked into you as he watched you wither in pleasure as he used his fingers to tease your opening. When you began to buck into his face, he used his other hand to hold down your waist, keeping your hips still for his assault.

You clenched around his fingers. “Ransom… I’m close… oh, my god,” you warned. Ransom grunted, taking great pleasure from eating you out. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you begged. He pressed two fingers deep inside of you, curling them and stroking your walls. He buried his face deeper into your dripping cunt and stared up as you came. He wished he could have your reactions of video. The sounds you made were porn worthy and he would’ve loved to have his own private collection.

He stroked you as you rode out your high. You were breathless as your eyes slowly fluttered open, staring up onto the ceiling. “You with me?” Ransom smirked as he stripped his underwear and stroked his hard cock. You nodded. You reached out for him and he gladly leaned down to let you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders.

“I want you to fuck me until I’m stupid,” you whispered. “Only thing I wanna remember is your name.”

Ransom almost frowned. Your parents must’ve really done a number on you this time. In the years that this arrangement had been established, Ransom would – 9 times out of 10 – be the one to initiate the stress relieving sex. But he was more than happy to oblige.

“Your wish is my command, baby,” he muttered, nipping at the skin of your neck before pushing into you.

In one hard thrust, he pushed his entire length into you. You winced when you felt him brush against your cervix. His thrusts were sharp and hard. You’ve had enough sex with each other to know the various spots that made one another tick. Ransom was eager to give you another orgasm – he got off on it.

The shifts of his hips were deliberate, bringing your legs up to drape over his shoulders. He hit spots deep inside of you that you never knew existed before you had sex with him. Your hands were searching for something to hold, something to occupy themselves with. Ransom leaned over, folding you in half, as he took your hands in his, interlacing your fingers while he pounded into you.

You gushed around his thick cock, another orgasm being pulled from you unexpectedly. You moaned his name over and over. “Yeah, baby? Only I make you feel like this, huh?” he grunted. “You take my dick so well. Only you do that, baby.”

You moaned in response, no tangible sentences could even form. His name was the only thing you could say. Your brain effectively melting as you requested.

“I’m gonna make you cum over and over for me.”

He made good on that promise. You lost count of how many times Ransom had made you cum. You had no idea where he got the stamina. But he fucked you through orgasm after orgasm. You fell apart so many times only for him to put you back together.

The obscene sounds that came from your heated core were accompanied by a symphony of moans and the slapping of skin.

“Ugh,” you moaned after what felt like your 6th orgasm of the night. “I love you, Ransom,” you moaned out, and it was the truth. In your fucked-out state, you confessed the three words that you both were too afraid to tell each other. But Ransom smiled, his thrusts becoming less rhythmic. He was about to cum.

He leaned down and captured your lips, groaning into you as he found his release inside of you. The warm feeling spreading throughout your body as you kissed back. Your lips melting into each other, eager and hungry. It was years in the making.

Ransom pulled away first and pulled out of you. You winced and whimpered upon feeling the emptiness. Your mixed fluids slowly trickled out of you and onto the bed, but neither of you minded. You were both too tired.

Ransom slumped beside and you naturally snuggled into his side. By this time Ransom would’ve offered to help clean you, knowing your legs would be like jelly, he’d walk you to the bathroom. But he wanted to enjoy your shared afterglow as he pulled you over his body so that you were resting on his chest. Both of you were panting, lungs trying to pace themselves.

You slowly began to feel the fear settle in.

Ransom was your best friend. The one constant thing in your life. The only stability you had. Your place of comfort. And you’ve ruined it. You said it. The three words. The feeling that’s been building up for years. You scolded yourself for saying it so recklessly.

You’ve done it. You’ve toppled your tower again. Your fingers played with the ‘R’ charm on your necklace again. A nervous habit it seemed.

“I love you, (Y/N),” he whispered in the darkness. He kissed the top of your head as he wrapped his arms tighter around you.

And then a feeling of ease settled upon you. A smile on your face as you realized the tower didn’t fall… not yet. But even if it did, Ransom would be there to help you rebuild. You weren’t alone.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

The Outsider Chapter 10

Ganondorf x reader

Word Count: 1295

Summary: Bad Times, Bad Times, are ahead, I tells ya.

Serious note SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THIS STORY, but also Trigger Warning: Character death, like bigtime.

It had been a month since you left, and the Gerudo kingdom was all the worse for it. During your absence, even the people that hated you came to realize what a calming presence you were on their king. He was prone to making harsh decisions; things that used to be met with patience and a want to mediate were now being ignored or even punished for taking up his time. He was quick to anger to the point that Nixa had once had to physically restrain him–as much as she could until he came back to his senses–from lashing out with his sword against some shopkeep. There were no parties, no festivals, no feasts. The few local holidays that fell within the month of your absence went completely ignored. It seemed, in their haste to be rid of you, the faction against you had failed to realize that they never really knew their king without you affecting his mental state.

Little did they know that they had it easy, but they would soon learn.

Ganon was slumped in his throne like he’d been every day since your departure, unhappy and wanting nothing more than to have you by his side. There had been no leads on the culprit that drove you to take the cursed trip to Hylia, and there was still another month to go until you finally returned. Needless to say, he was not a happy king. He rolled his eyes openly when he saw a messenger that seemed to be shaking with fear approach followed by a covered, horse-drawn cart. 

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, voice booming through the large room.

The frightened woman cleared her throat nervously as she raised a paper so she could read from it. “Your-Your Highness. A letter has been sent by the Hylian king with this cart.”

That garnered his attention enough that he sat forward in his seat, forearms resting atop his lets. “Well, what is it? More ridicule from a man that keeps chasing off his wives?”

“No, s-sir. I-it says, ‘I am s-sick of entert-taining your thieving ways. Is it not enough that the l-legacy of your pe-people is one no b-better than a band of ba-bandits? Now you steal one-one of our o-own and b-brainwash her to be your wife.”

He paid no heed to her terrified yelp as he roared, “What does he know of her?! We did not steal her!”

“Sir, perhaps if you let her finish,” Nixa spoke patiently, eyes not leaving her temperamental king in case she needed to protect the messenger from his wrath. 

His next order was in a growl so low that all present could feel it reverberate through their chests, “Continue.”

Nixa could only toss the girl a small smile of reassurance.

“‘A-as king of Hylia,’” she continued, voice shaking even more than before, “‘I have ordered her to be,” her eyes flicked between Nixa and Ganondorf for a breath, showing how truly terrified of finishing the letter, “‘t-t-terminated. Allow her b-body to be a less-lesson against your true n-nature.’”

Ganondorf’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Speak carefully, little messenger, or your next words will be your last. That cannot be what that letter says; now, you speak the truth of what the king had to say or I’ll feed you to the Molduking.”

Nixa, however, was left shaking both in her hands and her head in a slow denial of the words that were just spoken into being. While the messenger cowered before their king, she slowly approached the cart, torn between not wanting and needing to see what secrets it held. Her hands were vibrating so hard that she had trouble grasping the black cloth overtop the wagon. When she pulled back the draping, she couldn’t help the scream of horror that left her mouth.

Instantly, Ganondorf was on his feet and storming to her side. The messenger barely had time to jump out of the way before he could shove her to the side. Wisely, she made a hasty exit before the king could reach the cart. He paid no mind to the fleeing girl because he only had eyes for the contents of the cart.

Inside, he saw something that would forever haunt him. Something that would never allow him to sleep peacefully again, something that would drive him to the deepest, darkest parts of his soul. Something that brought forth the beast that had been prowling at the edge of his vision, clawing at the back of his skull in an attempt to escape ever since he could remember, held back only by the ray of light that you brought whenever you were near.

Inside the cart, was you.

You were beaten, bloodied, and broken.

One hand was missing, and the dancing attire you were wearing was practically shredded from what he could only assume had been the desperate fight for your life. I knew she never should have left my side.

Beside him, Ganondorf was only vaguely aware of the fact that Nixa, his ever-strong personal guard, was openly weeping, crying out and grasping at your face as if that would make you wake up. “Leave, Nixa,” he snarled in a low voice, only barely managing to keep control of the purple energy that had started writhing around his hands.

She turned teary golden eyes to him. “I won’t leave her,” she insisted. “My baby. My baby! MY BABY! WHAT HAS HE DONE?!” she screamed her anguish as if it would bring her answers.

Ganon’s voice was controlled the next time he spoke, frighteningly so considering the sheer, unfiltered rage that was twisting his otherwise handsome face, “Leave this place, Nixa, or you will be buried here. Find those that did this; find the assassins that took her from me. Find them and kill them. I will handle the king and the rest of Hylia.”

It was Nixa’s turn to let her fury distort her beautiful face, turning her into what could only be described as a monster that thirsted for vengeance and would settle for nothing less. In an instant she had vanished in search of the blood of those who killed her daughter.

It was then that Ganondorf allowed the real magnitude of his rage to take control of his mind, body, and soul. A roar ripped its way from his throat with such ferocity that it could be heard to every border of the Great Gerudo Desert. Dark, purple energy erupted from him in a wave that leveled every structure in the city, killing every inhabitant in one fell tsunami of evil power. There was no chance of escape for anyone that was caught in the warpath as the blight of Ganon was reborn into the world. Skies darkened all the way to Central Hyrule, alerting the king to the plight that would soon be headed his way.

And at the epicenter of all this chaos was him, cradling your corpse as he wept.

“I will kill him,” he swore. “I will tear his throat out with my teeth, and eat his precious daughter’s heart in front of him while his wife watches.” His voice cracked as he murmured those words against your temple, fingers tangled in your hair like he always did when he held you.

It had been a normal scouting mission when a simple Gerudo guard stumbled across a crying little child. Anyone with eyes could see that you were destined to be close to the Gerudo King, Ganondorf. Many said that you were going to be his reason to break the cycle, the reason to save him from the beast that haunted his soul.

No one realized that signing your death warrant was the same as signing their own.

[of-wrens-and-whirlwinds-blog]

What’s a King to a Schoolmaster?

First commission by the ever-wonderful @turtletotem! Commission info is here!

~

Being king, Edward mused, was absolute shit.

Having been a prince, he was jaded to all this luxury. The power would’ve been fun, except if he wanted to keep the throne until his wife had a baby, he had to share it with the councils. This wasn’t even a big country and he was tired of ruling it. What he would give for a fine, strong son to take the throne so he could move far away and be a goatherd or something.

“Daydreaming again, sire?”

Edward perked up and turned with a grin to his oldest friend and current guard captain. “More like pouting,” he replied, “But I suppose the day’s getting better.”

Wilhelm smiled back a little, lop-sided. “Her majesty the queen is anxious to see you again,” he informed the king.

Edward scoffed and waved his hand. “She’s always anxious. That’s why Father picked her, because she’s anxious and if she kills me no one will suspect her.”

Wilhelm stopped smiling. “That was fast,” he remarked. “Do you hate her already?”

“No, but I suspect she hates me. I give her everything she wants and never ask for anything except her presence at state functions and an heir. She wants to be needed and I can’t give her that.” Edward shrugged and stretched, smirking as Wilhelm’s eyes flicked up and down his body. The current court fashions were tighter than Edward liked, but if it made Wilhelm flustered, he’d take it. It was always fun to fluster Will. “Poor lady. Maybe I’ll run away as soon as she has a child,” he mused. “Boy or girl.”

“That would not do, sire,” Wilhelm said stiffly. “You are still king.”

“And you are still obsessed with honor.” Edward stood, walked over, and yanked Wilhelm down for a quick kiss. “I’m telling you, a little chicken-blood, signs of a struggle, and we can make it look like you killed me and ran away. We can be goatherds together!”

Wilhelm finally, actually smiled, and put his hand on Edward’s waist. “Eddie, you don’t know shit about goats,” he retorted, but fondly. “And I can’t make cheese. So there.”

Edward laughed and embraced him.

~

It was another holiday feast, and Edward was bored out of his mind.

Sarah was having fun, talking to the other court ladies and comparing notes on whose secret lover was better. Edward didn’t mind that she had a lover. Someone to make her happy, keep her sane in this endlessly boring existence as queen. Well. He assumed it was boring.

Wilhelm was looking handsome, as usual, shadowing Edward as he stood by the fireplace and discussed the military with some of his nobles. Edward hated the military part of ruling, but the Vassa Legions were gathering next door and his ministers were nervous about war. Gods, they were so nervy.

Edward looked around the ballroom, and frowned. Everyone looked nervous. Was he missing something? He’d have to ask his spymaster what was going on. Or Wilhelm. Wilhelm always knew.

Finally, finally, his ministers drifted away, and Edward strolled over to sit in his throne again. A servant hurried over and handed him a goblet of wine. Edward nodded his thanks and toyed with the goblet, not really in the mood for more alcohol. Wilhelm drifted up to him and leaned down to murmur, “Sire, I suggest you and Queen Sarah adjourn early. There’s too much tension.”

“Oh, so you noticed it too.” Edward looked around again, frowning once more. No one would meet his eyes. “Huh. I think I will take your advice. How should I approach Sarah?”

Wilhelm raised one dark eyebrow and looked aggrieved. “Sire, you know I am exactly the wrong person to ask about that,” he replied dryly.

Edward coughed to hide a laugh. Yes, he did know. Wilhelm had never had a lover, woman or man; he just wasn’t interested in anyone, he’d told sixteen-year-old Edward, blushing.

Well, that was alright. Edward wasn’t very much into lovers, either. So sweaty, and what did one get out of it? A few minutes of pleasure that you could easily get on your own if you had the privacy? No, better to spend his nights reading and sleeping, although he always remembered to do his duty by Sarah.

Just as Edward set down his goblet and stood, Wilhelm straightening and stepping back to give him room, the doors of the ballroom slammed open, and armed men in chainmail swept in. Everyone shouted or screamed, and scurried away; but it all sounded fake and looked practiced. Edward glanced at Sarah; she was smiling. She looked over at Edward and said softly, “Sorry about this, Eddie.”

Edward grinned back. “No harm done,” he assured her cheekily. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to be a goatherd.”

She looked stunned, but then Wilhelm grabbed Edward’s arm and dragged him to the secret door.

It was quite interesting, how the rest of the king’s guard did not seem to be in their places. Wilhelm swore under his breath as he hustled Edward up the stairs, to the emergency exit.

“So this is what I get for spending my days with the new recruits,” he muttered furiously. “They all turn on me like dogs.”

“Oh, no,” Edward drawled, panting, because despite his joking he really was frightened enough to run. “Whatever shall we do? We’ll have to go into hiding. You know, my mother’s family has this lovely castle they never visit, we could hide there—”

“Shut up, Eddie.”

Edward shut up.

They made it to his quarters, barely. Wilhelm grabbed Edward’s sword off the wall and tossed it to him; he caught it easily and buckled it on. They had planned this, and practiced. There was a small bag under Edward’s bed containing loose, rough clothes, and several purses scattered in secret places. They gathered all of these quickly, as someone started hammering on the door. Then, while Edward slung on his cloak, Wilhelm opened the second secret door, which led into the stair way down into the dungeons. Built by one of Edward’s forefathers who liked to get off on watching people being tortured. But from the dungeons, they could get to the stables.

They followed this program quickly, and Edward began to tremble as he realized that they couldn’t hole up in a castle. They really would have to travel secretly to a barely-civilized part of the country for protection.

No more wines, he thought in a detached manner as Wilhelm slew two men who tried to stop them. No more velvets and jewels. He pulled off his signet ring and crown and dropped them in a pile of horse manure. No more fine dining and the newest books.

But also, no more being royal.

That thought made Edward suddenly happy. He was still terrified for his life, as he saddled his mare Breeze and jumped in her saddle, and following Wilhelm out of the stables, to gallop to the gate and out into the royal city. Crossbow bolts whizzed past his ear, but Breeze was faster, and soon they were in the silent city streets, sticking to shadows and avoiding the City Guard.

“So,” Edward whispered, as Wilhelm looked around sharply, “Where shall we go?”

Wilhelm hesitated, then sighed. “We should leave the continent,” he murmured back. “Or, at least pretend to. We should continue south, anyway; much more land to search to the south.”

“True enough.”

They rode in silence, far into the morning. They stopped in the woods, by a stream, and sat down while their horses rested. And then Edward felt tears in his eyes.

“Damn it!” he snarled, thumping his knee with his fist. “I told her! I told her if she asked I’d abdicate in her favor! What is it with royalty thinking they have to kill people to get what they want?!”

Wilhelm reached over and put his hand over Edward’s fist. Automatically, he uncurled it, and wove his fingers tightly with Wilhelm’s. “There was always a chance you’d come back, or others would rally around you,” he said gently. “No royal worth their salt would allow that, even if she did believe that you would never try for the throne. What if you had a son who challenged hers? The web of politics is not straightforward.”

Edward leaned over to lean his head on Wilhelm’s shoulder. “Can I be a goatherd now? They live such simple lives.”

Wilhelm sighed. “No, Eddie. We can set up as a disgraced merchant and his bodyguard in some small city, and you can be a tutor. You like teaching, don’t you?”

“Well, yes,” Edward admitted. “It was fun, teaching those youngsters about economics. But would it work?”

“It will work,” Wilhelm replied firmly. “We will make it work.”

~

If one were to ask the jovial, aging schoolmaster and his quiet blacksmith friend where they had come from, Schoolmaster Ed would laugh, and Blacksmith Will would just shake his head and smile.

“Oh, it doesn’t really matter,” Ed would chuckle. He still had an accent when he spoke. “They didn’t want me there, anyway.”

Will would just shake his head and refuse to answer.

Some of the town gossips were sure they were… peculiar. But there were never any signs. They lived together, and if one were to watch through their window (which, given the fact that their cottage was smack in the middle of the street, was never unnoticed), Ed liked to read aloud to Will, and they sometimes fell asleep on the same couch. But nothing else.

One bold young girl, Niamh, snuck out from her foster home one night before she could be caught and hurt (the wheelwright had a nasty temper and took it out on everyone) and crept into the back garden of the schoolmaster and the blacksmith, just in time to hear Ed say, “I got a letter today, from Sarah! She said she’s given birth to twins!”

“She found us?” Will asked sharply, and Niamh shrank back in the bushes, frightened by his tone.

“Yes, but it’s fine, my love. Her new husband has straightened out those courtiers too annoying to be useful, and now the country is stable again. Just in time for the births. She asked if you would mind terribly if she named one after you, the only loyal man in court.” Here, Ed faltered. “I… haven’t written back yet. Do you have anything to say to her?”

A long moment. Then Will sighed. “Tell her I thank her for the honor, and for thinking of me. That’s all I have to say to the woman who tried to have you killed.”

“Oh, but didn’t I tell you?” Ed said merrily. “She laid out the entire plot in that letter, every scrap of detail, she said because she couldn’t live without me knowing. They weren’t going to kill me! Rough me up, yes, torture me, probably, but they knew if they killed me there’d be an uproar. So they were just going to imprison me. Oh! We seem to have a visitor!”

Before Niamh could figure out what that meant, Will was looming over her, frowning. She shrank back, beginning to shake with fear, eyes huge.

But then he smiled, and said, “You’re Niamh, right? Well, come on out, child. You’ve heard quite a bit already.”

“That darling child living with that nasty wheelwright?” Ed gasped, also coming around the corner as Niamh stood slowly. “Oh, my dear! You shouldn’t be hiding in the dark and cold like that. Come, come, have tea with us. Did you run away?”

“Yes,” she answered in a small voice, as she followed them to the graveled area in front of their backdoor, where they were having a final cup of tea before bed. “I… I was scared. He was angry.”

Will frowned, but in a worried way. Ed nodded and smiled sadly. “Understandable, my dear. He’s an alarming man. Do you take sugar?”

[appl3pi333]

Carry you with me

"You never asked for this much insight. But you can’t have both innocence and experience. Experience. A charming euphemism for pain and suffering. Either one will drive out innocence altogether.

 Isn’t that what you’re really after—a return to Eden?

Minus the snake.

Minus the apple.

Minus Adam, for that matter. However, if you had stayed in an unspoiled world, you would have learned nothing. You would have felt nothing. You would have seen nothing. Better to have loved and lost—etcetera etcetera.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You aren’t the only one who is tracking Kübler-Ross’s Five Stages of Grief like an air traffic controller on a Friday night at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. So put the bag of grief down. 

You can pick it up later. 

You’ll have to. 

It’s yours. 

But at least open it. (Are you afraid to open it?)It’s been long enough. What could possibly be in there that could hurt you more than It already has? 

It.

 The incident that handed you your bag of grief in the first place. The bag is purple velveteen with a gold tassel drawstring.

“Drawstring” starts with the letter D. So do discouragement, disappointment, delusion, damage, deceit, divorce, disease, and death. 

Pick your poison. 

Be brave.

 Put your hand into your bag of grief to find out what’s really in there, not just what you’ve imagined. Goblins and gremlins and goldfish feasting on your peace. Reach in. Know what you’re dealing with. It's the only way to live while dragging that sack around for the rest of whatever. (You aren’t going to find anyone else to carry it for you.) Fortune favors the bold. 

Dig deep. Deeper…Ah, you see? It’s only a camera! Something both useful and harmless. But you know that those pictures of memories are stored in your heart. Sometimes they fade, sharpen, and sometimes morph into angels or demons, or both. It would be easier to untangle your DNA than to forget what you longed for, what you will miss every day until you cease to be. Hey, what are you doing? You can flick through the pictures later. When it’s quiet. Or when you’re alone. Or during the holidays. Or, while you’re in the cereal aisle, you see a box of Froot Loops. 

It’s such a capacious bag.

It could hold anything.

It might hold everything. What else?

Ooo. A magnifying glass! 

This will be useful in enlarging the things you’ve been berating yourself over. After all, your loss was entirely your fault. You could have made a dozen decisions to affect a better outcome. You could have set up decision matrices, run calculations, or hedge your bets. A magnifying glass will be useful in rehashing all the missed opportunities. 

But you have time.

You can ruminate on what might have been forever: What you should have done. What would you have done better? What you should have done differently. Anything else? Check the bag of grief again. 

There must be something heavy, I bet. Have you changed your perspective on grief while rummaging around? 

Behold the kaleidoscope.

See how the mirrors are tilted towards one another at an angle, causing an endless reflection—the backscattering is more interesting than the simple colored objects it refracts. Rotate the cylinder. The glittering bits shift. The symmetrical patterns are impermanent, ever-changing with a flick of a wrist. 

Like your moods: 

You are fine. You are not fine. 

You lay prone. You lay supine. 

You look at the kaleidoscope again, spinning the tube, shaking the colored shards, trying to decipher the mosaic in front of you. (Surely, the intricate patterns must mean something.)

And that is where you are stuck, my love, trying to find the meaning of It all. 

Perhaps accumulating experience is the point. Experience buys strength and wisdom. You’ll need both for the next time It comes.

But this time, you will see It much more clearly."

[caspian-skye]

The Apoptosis Project: Winter Holiday

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and a happy holidays to all! I’ve always been a fan of the season, which ends up translating into obligatory Christmas-y chapters in my stories. So, here’s the (not) Christmas chapter from The Apoptosis  Project! 

This is from chapter 21, and references something from my old story as well, so it might not make 100% sense standalone. But still, it gives a good insight into some of the series’ most important characters.

With the end of December, the Winter Holiday came. Of course the holiday was created to celebrate the end of the Great War over a hundred years before, but Caspian was happy to have nearly two weeks off, and a chance to unwind from the constant assignments and training exercises of Sentinel. The dorms held nowhere near the luxury of his family home; glass walls with views of the ocean, marble and mahogany floors, and a bathtub large enough to lay down in, that he didn't have to share with three other teammates.

Lazula hardly seemed to be slowing down. Every day since break started she woke up at the crack of dawn, and trained until after Caspian woke up. He admired her commitment, but every night a small part of him feared she'd wake him up the next morning and drag him to her custom-built practice arena.

The night before the Holiday, every member of teams CRLN and LSLI --apart from Noxis, who disappeared the minute after their last class together-- came to Skye Manor along with their parents. All were dressed in their nicest clothes for the countless pictures that would inevitably be taken that night-- aside from Caspian, who wore the most repugnantly lurid sweater he could find in the discount store in Cyrreine Mall. Red bells attached to the tree sewed to the front of the green sweater jingled with each step, almost matching the sweater's crimson collar. To complete the look were thick brown pads of leather at each elbow. Extra protection, just in case.

He had been helping out with preparing the feast for dinner, and afterward sat on the bench of his mother's grand piano, a shining antique in the corner of the living room. After a few minutes of practice, Snow walked over with a curious look.

Caspian smiled. "Hey, wanna learn how to play?"

Snow nodded. "Okay."

Caspian scooted over to the far side of the piano bench, giving Snow just enough room to sit next to him. "Hm... where to start..." he pondered. He had played as a hobby for quite some time. Apparently he was drawn to the instrument when he was only a few years old, and his mother taught him from there. "Well, the piano has eighty-eight keys, and this might seem like a lot, but there are really only twelve notes so it's not that bad."

"Eighty-eight does not evenly divide into twelve," Snow noted. She cocked her head. "How are there eighty-eight?"

Caspian paused. "I... actually I'm not sure..." he replied. "But that's not important for now. Let's start with the C-Major scale." he pressed a key on the piano, and eventually worked his way up. "It starts at C, and goes down the alphabet until F. Then it wraps back around to A and B. This scale just deals with the seven white notes in its range, so it's a good place to start."

"There are an extra three notes at my side of the keyboard," Snow commented.

"What?"

"There are an extra three notes at my side of the keyboard. The keyboard starts with A, but its highest note is a C. That's why there are eighty-eight notes."

Caspian looked to Snow in surprise. "Well, mystery solved I guess!" he responded with a laugh. But how did she notice so quickly? He pulled a sheet of simple music out from behind the one he had been practicing on, and pointed to the first note. "Anyway, the C corresponds to this note, here. The next note is G, so I'd press this one. The whole song goes like this," he concluded, and began to demonstrate.

"May I try?" Snow asked after he finished.

"Go for it!" Caspian permitted, scooting further to the end of the bench.

Snow lowered her hands to the keys. Her eyes drew up to the paper, then back down. Caspian watched in confusion and surprise as her fingers moved deftly over the notes, striking them with both perfect cadence and accuracy.

"...You're telling me you've never played piano before?"

"I haven't."

"Huh. I remember being stuck on this song for weeks..." Caspian replied. He turned the page. "What about this one?"

"Actually," Uncle Douglas interrupted, suddenly appearing behind the two. "Snow, can you help your mother and I with something for a bit?"

Snow nodded and stood up, leaving Caspian at the bench. He glanced up with a disappointed look. "Maybe later then," he offered. Caspian sat for a few moments, and after deciding he still didn't have enough room for a slice of pie, shuffled through his music to find a song celebrating the Winter Holiday. He cracked his knuckles, and began to play.

A handful of measures in, a soft voice began to match his notes, singing the words accompanying his play. Lilly came to his side, leaning on the piano as she sang.

Determination struck Caspian. He could feel everyone's eyes on him. For them, for Lilly, and for his honor, he wouldn't miss a single note. The song played out for what felt like ten minutes, but couldn't have been more than a couple. When he finally finished, he leaned into the piano and let out a deep breath.

Judging by the applause, the duet went well. He and Lilly made a pretty good pair.

"That was pretty!" Laurel complimented. "You're definitely the better singer of the two of us."

Lilly smiled, but shook her head. "I'm flattered, but I have to disagree. That's clearly you. I don't have anywhere near your range."

"All I do is scream over a wall of guitar and drums," Laurel dismissed. "You can actually carry a tone."

Lilly held out the corners of her dress, looking at Laurel's thrashed black sweater and matching jeans. "Whatever the case, someone like me is no fit for a punk-metal band," she admitted.

Deciding the pressure of one song was enough, Caspian walked back to the couch and took a seat next to his sister. As he sat she eyed his sweater with disapproval.

"I hope whoever designed your shirt got fired."

Caspian threw his head back with laughter. His sister was hardly one for jokes, and this one was one of her strongest in a while. As he recovered, his eyes flicked to the doorway, where his father stood.

There was a peculiar look on his face. One maybe of shock, or sudden realization. As their eyes met, Headmaster Skye nodded, and turned back into the kitchen.

The night wore on for a few more hours before everyone began to settle into the many guest rooms of the house. Morning came, as did the time to exchange presents. Lazula was touched by Lilly's album of pictures of the two through the years, and was particularly amused by Rowan's joke gift of a cheap plastic trophy, "because she didn't have enough of them."

Caspian gifted Lilly a new set of tea cups. Vintage, imported straight from Mistral. It cost him a small fortune, but as his parents practically owned half of Port Cyrreine, and a sizable share of the Schnee Dust Company, money was never an issue. He had genuinely no idea what to get Laurel, but judging by her reaction to the set of high-quality guitar accessories he assumed she might use -a set of picks, straps, and a new stand- he did well.

His gift to Snow was one of the very last opened. He made sure to sit right next to her as she did, waiting and trying to conceal the eagerness in his eyes. She undid the wrappings slowly and methodically, undoing each length of tape and gently unfolding the paper in stark contrast to Rowan, who somehow managed to unwrap each gift in one savage tear.

Finally, Snow opened the box. She paused, and as usual her blank stare gave away nothing.

"Is this for me?"

Caspian grimaced. "Y-Yeah... I have the receipt if you don't want it..."

Snow set the box down, and pulled the plush doll from it gently. She held it to her chest, and a smile began to form. Small at first, but it grew into the biggest, cheeriest one he had ever seen from her. He glanced at the corner of her eye.

Crows' feet.

"I love it," Snow said, hugging the doll tighter. "Thank you so much."

"Of course," Caspian replied, his smile beginning to match hers. "I saw it when we went to Cyrreine Mall, and couldn't help but think about you."

Snow held the doll in front of her before setting it down on the box. Still kneeling, she turned to Caspian with arms outstretched. The hug lasted longer than he expected; probably because neither of them knew the proper amount of time for a friendly hug, and were waiting on the other to disengage.

Afterward, Caspian and his friends opened one of Rowan's new board games. Though Lazula and Laurel hardly ever played, after enough insisting that it was a holiday, and the game could be played with up to eight people, they joined as well.

Meanwhile, Caspian's mother and father walked along the path through their expansive yard, under its trees and through the bushes that would erupt with life in a few months' time. "Do you remember the vision I told you about, after I was almost killed in our last fight with Vladimir?" the Headmaster asked.

Headmistress Skye nodded. "Even before we had them, you told me you saw Caspian and Lazula, in our living room. Caspian was smiling."

"I saw that exact scene last night, after Caspian played that song," the Headmaster stated. He took in the cool air. Clouds had rolled in, but it hadn't yet started to rain. "I don't know if it means anything. I just wanted to tell someone."

"You saw the scene you saw all those years ago..." Headmistress Skye reflected. "It makes me wonder, but it also reminds me." Her gaze fixed on him, and she stopped suddenly. "When are we going to tell Lazula?"

The Headmaster turned to face his wife. "About?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You know what I'm talking about."

The headmaster sighed, then nodded. "It's best we wait for now," he decided.

Headmistress Skye's eyes clouded with doubt. "Not telling her just... doesn't sit right with me. We're lying to our own daughter."

"We haven't told her any lies," Headmaster Skye maintained.

"We haven't told her the truth, either."

Headmaster Skye shook his head. "I'm sure you understand what's at stake here," he insisted. "When the time is right, I'll be the one to tell her."

Without a reply, the Headmistress turned, and made her way back to the front door.

--

That night, once all gifts had been opened and a feat of leftovers was had, Snow stood alone in her guest room. She held the doll in her arms like a child, rocking her slowly back and forth as she watched her reflection in the mirror propped up on the dresser. The muffled tones of the piano from downstairs made their way into the room.

Snow paused, locking eyes with her reflection.

She quickly stepped over to the bedside, laying the doll down under the covers before returning to the dresser. She leaned over it until her nose nearly touched the mirror, and put her fingers to the edge of her eye.

The change was slight, but there was no mistaking it.

Her eyes had tinted the slightest shade of blue.

[themezzotint]

    A terribly cold and starless night; so bitter, in fact, the old draft horse's breath froze, turning to sparkling ice crystals which seemed to hang within a twinkling mist about his muzzle the moment he exhaled.  The narrow merchant road was steeped in snow and the tires of the ale-cart would skid and slip on nearly every rotation as they proceeded down the dusky corridor.

    Edark Markham drew the collar of his ragged coat closer about his neck and shivered momentarily as he lightly flicked the reins to signal his old horse to move a little quicker.  He turned, twice, in his seat to peer uneasily into the darkest shadows along the road's edge, searching the blackness until he convinced himself that the only other sound besides that of his plodding horse and creaking wagon must only be the occasional plop of snow falling from over-weighted branches. 

    "It feels as if the air is twice as cold as an hour ago!" He muttered into the lonely blackness.  "By thunder, I do b'lieve thet even a flame would freeze solid tonight..."

    He reached with a mittened hand and patted one of the barrels stacked behind him, considering how marvelously warm sipping only a few mouthfuls of the wonderful brew they contained would make him feel.  But he thought of this for only a moment, and quickly drew his hand back into a coat pocket; of how many vintners had he heard found frozen to death, cast eternally in ice, with the ridiculous smile of a drunkard upon their blue faces? He shivered again at the thought.  An ale merchant who tippled into one of his own barrels on such a night's delivery was nothing more than a bacchant disgrace.

    On he drove, mystified that a night without any wind could be so savagely frigid.  Only a true craftsman, bound sincerely to his life's art and occupation, would even set foot out of doors on such a harrowing eve; leaving his warm home and loving family to trudge to the stable, tack up his rig in knee-deep snow and make a special delivery four leagues across iced highways.  Ah, but just such an artisan and brewmaster was he, indeed! And this, no ordinary delivery.  Far from any common ale to be taken to a loud and libacious rathskeller where hackneyed farmers and field men gathered to eat and drink.  No! Seven barrels of his finest brew; Honey-Mead.  Aged and perfected over a year for a special Christmas delivery.  And on this blackest night, Christmas Eve, Edark drove his creaking ale-cart down the last section of the inky lane leading to Castle Erheim.

    He smiled, narrowly, and for a moment bitterly.  Lord Erheim had, thirty years before, ordered the close of his fathers moothouse.  If not for that decree, vein in origin, he would not now be a poorly brewer driving through the bitter black darkness.  A simple clash of wills; his father against Varnet Erheim.  An insult on a blend of wines ... returned by the insinuation of a connoisseur lacking discern and discrimination.  Harsh words.  Loud Threats.  And finally, a notice of eviction.  His father had died penniless, for no commoner may prosper for besmirching the taste of a nobleman. 

    He shook his head, regretfully.  Through the snow-capped trees he made out the yellow-orange windows of the large manor in the distance.  The Erheims gathered together and feasted, jovially, tonight in their warm, stone hall. 

    His labors had taken him twenty years; the better part of his life to bring back the honor to his own family name.  But for his intense efforts, endless nights of brewing and kettling, and keen wariness to never speak afoul of any aristocrat, Edark Markham had gained notable renown as an aleman.  His grogery was comfortably successful, and his life mainly happy.  He took this night's delivery as a token of his own achievement, a sign he had become a master of his art.  His only thought of his long dead father was the man, sadly, had never reached such a point of personal contentment.

    Upon reaching the steep drive which lead up the hill to Castle Erheim, his draft horse snorted out a message of complaint.

    "Easy old man," Edark said, "Our work is nearly done."

    A quarter of an hour later, as the moon broke out of the heavy, black clouds and illuminated the pale, snow covered fields, Edark leapt stiffly from his wooden seat and waved to the valet at the great door to the chateau.  Half a dozen butlers issued forth and helped him carry the sloshing barrels of liquor inside.

    Edark unbuttoned his coat and sighed at the touch of the warm air.  Several more servants came and he followed them as they took the barrels down a well lighted passage towards a large chamber where the flickering light of flames, sounds of laughter and chords of carols poured out along with the tantalizing smell of roasted poultry and smoked venison.  Inside he glanced across a roomful of gaily dressed revelers.  Children, young lads and lasses and a dozen old men assembled on this holiday eve.  Most were gathered round a long table heaped with meats, fruits and pastries.  A large hearth crackled with leaping flames at the end of the room, and sleeping without a care before the iron grate were two large hounds.

    The workboys rolled the barrels beside the great table, and one of the older men, the oldest man, called loudly for Edark to join him beside his plate.  Edark came about and was seated in a large, oaken chair next to the old Lord.  He was given a full plate by one of the maids and honored by the first toast with his very own mead.

    Old Varnet Erheim spoke loudly, slurring his words and Edark recognized the Lord was already more than a little drunk, he must have been raising his elbow for some time, judging by his fuddled appearance.

    "To the regions best grogger ... hic ... a master, as I am told ..."

    With this the old man drained half the mead from his crystal bumper and all were silent, waiting for his next word.

    "Indeed!" he said with a grin, "A true artist with the spirits! Who will refill my cup?"

    Edark smiled, himself, partially with gratitude, partially in relief, and swallowed a mouthful of his sweet, hearty, Honeymead.  This was surely the best he had ever brewed! The taste carried the great purity of lavender honey, yet hinted, subtly, a touch of wild elderberries.  He swirled the liquid gently within its crystal tumbler, holding it up to the bright glow of the fire and admired the golden liquid which seemed to have a light mist floating within; Ah! The traditional mystique of Antipodal Mead; his families ancient recipe!

    He ate and drank beside his robust and red-faced host, frowning a little at how quickly, and somewhat carelessly, his wonderful honey wine was being downed by the celebrating family.  Mead, he thought, was to be savored for the ambrosia it was; not tossed down the gullet like a commonplace wine! But he was also gladdened by the thought of the payment forthcoming, and how he would ride home with a full purse ... Ah alas! And oh well! To their health!  He thought and downed his cup.

    He felt his own face begin to glow, and settled quietly back in his large chair and listened with half an ear to the conversation about him.

    "Yes, but a tax any higher and my tenants will certainly repress their true profits from me, I am at an impasse!" (A middle-aged nobleman to his left)

    "Fool you are, and will always be, boy!" (The old lord) "Do you honestly suppose they do not behave thusly now? Consistency and intimidation ... Fear and will! Aye! That is the way!"

    "Uncle is the master of discipline, my cousin ..." (Gentleman across the table) "His word is law!"

    The crowd laughed in hollow unison and Edark began to think more and more of getting home to his own wife and family.  He was weighing out the different hints he could use to ask for payment when, suddenly, at his side the old Lord lurched out of his chair and began to behave in the strangest and most curious manner; leaping about-throwing his arms violently before him as if to repel an unseen attacker,

    "Auugh! Get away! Get awaaay!"

    Several cousins leapt from their seats to try and assist the old man, shouting, "What see you, old fellow?" and, "Settle, sir! Settle!" or, "He has made one too many toasts!"

    Lord Erheim sputtered and coughed and backed himself away from the group.

    "No, there be daemons!" said another, his face aghast, "See how they crawl down the walls!"

    In a matter of heartbeats and seconds the entire throng was up and screaming about the chamber.  The children, terrified by their parent's behavior, dashed out of the hall.  The hounds bayed madly, howling until the room echoed with their cries.

    "What chicanery is this?" thundered the old Lord, pointing a pudgy finger at Edark, "Witchery and devil's magic!" he roared.  He made to advance, and Edark rose, toppling his chair.  He could see no daemons or spirits, the family had gone mad! The angry face of Lord Varnet Erheim was beguiled with rage, veins protruded from his forehead, his eyes were those of a man possessed, and he ambled forth, closing in on the bewildered brewer.  Then, with a loathful cry, the old lord fell to his knees, covering his eyes with his hands, weeping like a deranged and terrified child.

    "Your sire! Your father ..." he blubbered.

    And Edark Markham scrambled for the door, dodging all of the slavering and shrieking noblemen as best he could, leaving them gesticulating and seizing in their paroxysms of madness, turning back only once for a last look into the room of lunatics.  Was it not a group of leering black shadows he had seen, swimming, hazily through the air, encircling the cowering people with their grey, vaporous bodies? Had he not glimpsed one red-eyed creature towering within smoking firelight at the center of the chamber, laughing, menacingly at its doomed prey?

    "Nae! Nae!" he murmured over and over as he hunched down in his jostling wagon all the way home through the moon-lit Christmas Night.

    It was often remarked, from that time on, how truly marvelous it was that Edark Markham's wines and ales could be so startlingly exquisite in taste and astounding in quality, yet the master ... never drank.  Marvelous, indeed, yet not quite as noted as his rare, and legendary Christmas Mead.   

[fitnessexpert00-blog]

The 5 Most Shameless Money Grabs By The Fitness Industry

New Post has been published on https://fitnessqia.com/must-see/the-5-most-shameless-money-grabs-by-the-fitness-industry/

The 5 Most Shameless Money Grabs By The Fitness Industry

By now, most of us have given up on our annual January attempts to shed some of the excess weight our rampant holiday feasting slapped on us. We’ve given dieting a shot. We’ve hit the gym. The most desperate of us may have even dabbled with fucking CrossFit. Yet as the weeks go by, we’re slowly adapting to our new, slightly portlier figures and learning to embrace the additional padding.

At least, that’s how most of us function. A select few will take one last, sad step and decide to give working out at home a try. You know, because the driving to and from the gym is what really sucks about working out. Not everyone can afford to shell out for their own cardio machine and an array of weights, though, and opt instead to pay still-obscene dollar amounts for useless machines that promise a shortcut to health and fitness. For example …

#5. Osim iGallop

Do you like horseback riding, but hate the idea of owning and caring for a giant animal? That … actually makes sense. Riding’s pretty good exercise, but horses are a hassle unless you happen to have a handy stable nearby, which you don’t. Also, a horse eats and poops, and keeping up with both costs about as much as a car payment each month.

Way less sad to put a bullet in your car when it breaks down, though.

It’s not the ideal setup for the occasional 20-minute workout, is what I’m saying. So why not get a fake horse? I’m not talking about kids’ rocking horses, or one of those mechanical bulls western-themed bars are so fond of (although if you have the room and money, holy shit, absolutely buy a mechanical bull). There are devices out there that simulate your body’s movement during riding, minus the “hanging on for dear life” part — which, come to think of it, is roughly 99 percent of the exercise you get from horse riding. Oh well. Still, maybe products such as the iGallop aren’t a complete waste of time. Let’s see what the ads say it can do:

… um. Ma’m? I’m not sure if you’re aware of it, but there’s no way you’re performing in an advertisement for a fitness product. Maybe that’s what you were hired for, but that’s either a Jessica Simpson video or the first minutes of a softcore porn flick. There’s no way whatever the hell you’re sitting on is a machine for “exercise,” and even less of a chance said machine doesn’t vibrate.

OK, maybe I’m being a little unfair. Maybe that tacky GIF is just an anomaly, and the product’s official promo pictures don’t make it look like an orgasmatron.

Wrong!

I’m not saying this is necessarily a bad product. Few things that are designed to make your ass slimmer are without at least a little inherent value. Still, I don’t care how great a core trainer this thing is — if you’re willing to throw $400 at it, you might as well stick it in a place of honor in your living room and maybe glue a few dildos on it. Because there’s no way in hell anyone who sees it is going to believe it’s anything but a fancy Sybian.

#4. The Face Trainer

SkyMall is a gift that keeps on giving for enterprising comedy websites. Their sales are comprised of 70 percent panicked gift orders, 30 percent irony, and 100 percent being so bored and/or drunk that ordering wine glass holder necklaces for your entire extended family seems like a hilarious idea. Still, at least the company generally limits its antics to the sort of clever-but-not-quite-useful stuff Billy Mays might have peddled back in the day. It’s not like their target audience is too into the fitness marke–

Oh, god dammit.

Yes, that is a workout mask for your face muscles. And yes, it works by applying “proven principals of resistance training to facial muscles” — which, let’s face it, is just a fancy wording for “It’s a really fucking tight mask, and now you have to make faces. Give us money.” The Face Trainer promises to take years off you, which is a claim I actually fully believe, because there’s no way you won’t get chased off a cliff by a torch-wielding mob if you go out in public wearing this thing, doing frantic Frankenstein faces to keep it from suffocating you.

Unfortunately, it looks like the product was too stupid for even SkyMall, since it’s nowhere to be found on their site today. Or is it? A search with the keyword “trainer” gives me a bunch of Mad Max-themed neon trikes, terrifying elliptical trainers with random cords, a Star Wars “Force trainer” because of fucking course, and … the “Tribal Style Giraffe Mask.”

Look at the Tribal Style Giraffe Mask. Look at it:

Somewhere, the Jigsaw Killer is furiously masturbating.

There’s no way that thing won’t slim the shit out of your face the second you try it on, likely bear-trap-style. And you will try it on, if only to silence its constant whispering in eldritch tongues.

#3. ViPR

So you’re walking down the park early in the morning, doing something I generously assume is not crime-related, when you suddenly come across a group of creepy fitness types waving huge logs around. (Oh, get your mind out of the gutter.) Like so:

“You won’t get away this time, Cobra Commander!”

Hahahahahaha! What the actual fuck is going on? Did you stumble upon a Warriors-style territorial battle between two 1980s-themed CrossFit factions? A no-budget Masters Of The Universe LARP?

Nothing that sane, I’m afraid. You’ve just witnessed the ViPR in action, and things aren’t going to get any better once those people actually start moving.

If you didn’t watch that video, two things. One: Please do; you owe it to yourself. Two: That exact same sentence, only much louder.

The ViPR infomercial is a simple piece of work at heart.

Indeed.

Basically, it’s several spandex-clad fitness enthusiasts doing the Stormtrooper stun baton spin …

No need to click that link. It looked exactly like this in the movie.

… mimicking everyday activities such as shoveling …

I think?

… and even clumsily engaging in some of that bullshit Klingon pretend fighting in which they slap each others’ bat’leths and expect people to be impressed.

Nerds!

Only they don’t have stun batons, or shovels, or unwieldable blade things. They’re doing it all with a fucking log. Called ViPR. I mean, I think the log is called ViPR, but maybe I misread something and it’s actually the true name of the entity that possesses all these people and forces them to do stupid shit for our amusement.

Example.

Again, I’m not saying this stupidly-named fucking thing is necessarily a bad product at heart. It has a number of holes that it claims makes it fully compatible with a number of other incomprehensibly-named gadgets the more impressionable gym might sport, so I guess you can at least join all those bullshit things into a giant Voltron of uselessness when you inevitably get bored with it. It’s just that if you’re trying to get in shape, I’d wager there are better ways to go about it than an exercise tool that makes you look like the Star Wars Kid grew up and joined a fraternity.

Read more: http://www.cracked.com/

[omgkyra-blog1]

Enjoy a Home Cinema Experience with Sky

richer NickEnjoy a Home Cinema Experience with SkyEntertainment piece | August 14, 2011Everyone loves a trip to the cinema, and it can be the perfect way to entertain youth during the school holidays. A great movie vessel also provide some abundant needed escapism for put upon parents. However, a trip to the flicks can instantaneously add jump to an expensive bright or evening out. beside the medium cinema coupon priced at around octennial Euros, a family of four can easily give over thirty pounds just on the tickets.Of course, ticket purchase isnt the way that the cinemas make their money. Tempting snacks, cup and ice-creams call to us as we series for our movie, tear us in with yummy smells and leaving Land of Liberty subjected to the bedevil power of our kids. Before we know it another went Euros is spent on overpriced popcorn and fizzy drinks.For lower than the price of your snacks at the cinema, you can reckon the show pack to your empyrean Ireland package, enabling you and your family to watch terrible value picture whenever the mood revenue you.Plus, when you value a azure voucher code from 5hop5.ie youll relish even better savings on fantastic welkin packages.You jar also forget about difference of opinion with love to what you watch. The firmament movies backpack includes twelve fantastic channels, from dizen Cinemagic to Sky Movies Premiere, so everyone win to want a incredible movie teats right rise their street.Those who appreciation to laugh will be tickled by the firmament Movies fun channel, situation youll bonanza all the best rib-ticklers. Theres a saying that the couple who whoop together, vacation together, and you can enjoy legion of giggle together observant films alike Get Him To The Greek, time Night and American Pie: The Wedding.If the boy are off school later the azure Movies clan channel will keep them occupied. against Harry play to comic Karate Kid, theres plenty of action, laughter and fun for the son on Sky. On rest day afternoons when Grandmas round, why not treat her to the classic show of her era? girl can like Hitchcock greats such as Charade and The unrest with Harry, and the kids vessel get in on the action with some huge family prototype such as Chitty Chitty Bang straight and wealth Island.Frazzled mums will fondness nothing better than end down for an dim with a rom comp on lid Drama and Romance, alternatively accompanied by a huge glass of wine and a carton of silky centres. However, they can have to wrestle frazzled Dads for the far-flung when they see the fast paced action movable on by on the Action and Adventure channel.Maybe a adjustment could be made meanwhile they regard the space of incredible movies on the Crime and Thriller channel. shylocks Holmes is a great thriller that the all family bottle enjoy, because some are strictly grownup only.Those who like to experience coldness as together as thrills are convinced to like the Sci-Fi and dread movie channel. Fabulous clan sci-fi films such as Transformers, X-Men and the Hulk, sit alongside not for the faint of heart dread such as the byword films, so it shouldnt be tough to boast a fright level to suit.Of course, to entirely recreate that cinema experience, only the latest exemption will do. This is where the fabulous empyrean Premiere means comes toward its own. Enjoy the latest movies, from thrillers and chillers, to firm family favored and singular comedies, if its new and its good next youll jewel it on the azure Premiere Movie channel.Theres no better fashion to waste time with your beloved ones then snuggling raise in head of a great movie. Family skin are superb for the light dim when the kids longing to sojourn up a little later, or although theyre on holiday from school and need being to occupy them while you win on with some regularly jobs.When it comes to grown increase time, savor some unity and soften in fore of a good film. Whether youre in the mood for some simple comedy, or something to really earn you thinking, Sky Movies has it all.You package bring the magic of the movie house to your front area for a month, for less tan the outlay of one cinema trip. With a Sky rebate code from 5hop5.ie a movies container could price tag you direct less, so what are you waiting for? feast your ordinary to the latest show 24/7, and you can enjoy a cinema tone treat each one day.The piece is written by rosin Wells at www.5hop5.ie equip Sky island Promo watch movies for free Visit http://www.5hop5.ie for new information on www.5hop5.ie commodity & Services. Copyright information This thing is handout for photograph but prerequisite be reproduced in its entirety, counting live contact & this copyright description must be included. stop www.5hop5.ie ahead you shop.

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

Bloodstreams! New Horror Streaming December 2017

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Bloodstreams! New Horror Streaming December 2017

Deck the halls with something gory! Fiends, it’s December. It’s the time of year for Gremlins and Krampus, for scary ghost stories and the second-most amount of candy in the year. If you want blood, I say, “Let it flow, let it flow, let it flow.” What new horror movies are available on all your favorite streaming services? Read on!

  Shudder

As the official streaming destination for horror fans, Shudder always has something exciting to check out. New flicks hitting Shudder this month include: Sam Was Here: A door-to-door salesman is isolated from the world, his only contact being a local radio station. As time goes on, his mysterious circumstances get stranger and more sinister.

Another Evil: A couple discovers a ghost haunting their vacation home and call for an exorcist. Hijinks ensue in this horror comedy.

  Netflix

With the recent news that the standard rate for Netflix subscribers would be going up in January, many viewers found themselves wondering whether or not it was worth continuing their subscriptions. The simple answer is, of course it is! Without Netflix, how would you scroll through your queue for half an hour trying to decide what movie to watch before settling on another rewatch of The Office, even though the last couple seasons are total disappointments?

Dark Season 1: This supernatural drama, set in Germany, focuses on four families and the ways in which their stories intertwine.

Erased: Look dude, I don’t know anything about anime. This one looks like a twisted time-travel story. If you like it, let me know.

  Troma Now!

Unfortunately, the pickings are relatively slim for Troma Now! subscribers this month. While the extensive back catalog has a few holiday-centric movies, there are no new ones. There’s only one new film coming to Troma Now! that warrants a mention on a horror site.

Fangboner: This horror comedy follows Dick and Suzy, two unfortunate young adults that become infected with a mysterious disease. As a result, they must feast on the blood of victims’ crotches.

Man, wouldn’t Fangboner be an awesome band name? Anyway, those are the new releases streaming this month. What are you most excited for? Let us know!

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Understand event Before You Remorse.

7 Gigantic Impacts Of celebration.

The Prejudice Of party.

To help strategy as well as produce the excellent event, kids party supplies can play a vital role. Well, enjoyable in the house used to mobilize up visions of long hrs at the stove and also last-minute preparations which left us wore prior to the event ever before started. Roaring 20s Event Supplies and also Decorations: Enhancing for a roaring 20s event could be a lot of fun for that reason most hosts will certainly intend to embellish the celebration area with black, white and red event materials. Celebration favors show love and also thankfulness when offered by the host of a celebration. However what I appear to be finding out here is that many normal grownups are denying their celebration supplies from a liquor shop. Il luogo del celebration è un place gestito dalla nostra MiamaCreazioni e da suo marito. Wedding showers, birthday celebrations, and several various other celebrations offer themselves especially well to a fantasy underwear event. Short, piled layers in one colour hug your body inside a sexy bustier alcoholic drink gowns Trendy layers that get rid of in all-time low of the outfit offer this celebration gown a frisky and satisfying feeling excellent for the trip celebration circuit. If they truly function hard, established and certified individuals can acquire great success in the dynamic area just like New York City. Gamings such as 2 Truths and also a Lie and also Reality or Dare are traditional games for a Prom event and also generally, are silent simple to play as well as are reasonably harmless. As the times are progressing, transform the means you appreciate your kitty celebration by incorporating new ideas as well as including these enjoyable Kitty celebration ideas to your regular monthly vacation. Relationships have actually occasionally been wrecked because a celebration visitor did not comprehend specifically just what would certainly be happening at an event, so be very clear in your interactions. Boy's Birthday celebration celebration: For a child's birthday celebration fill a blue present bag with an additional color of blue tissue paper as well as add toy autos, vehicles and plaything soldiers. If you bring a video game to the following event you most likely to- you could be the one to start a blast! It prevails for an industrial field to just permit paintball equipment they lease to be used at their location; this would certainly put a damper on the birthday kid having the ability to utilize his brand new paintball weapon at his very own event. There are a lot of factors that has to be thought about while choosing Christmas celebration venues. The advantageous side of Wild-Wild West party is liberty of costumes for your guests and also an opportunity to eat simple though tasty food developed by an ingenious wedding catering cook. Repeat your specials, contact info and also include something individual that you learnt more about them at the party.

15 Realities Regarding celebration That Will Blow Your Mind.

After entering the celebration location, put a cardboard or poster with various pictures of the happy couple via the years. This is a truly excellent means to get there if you are having an event and you want your lawn as well as look terrific. Drapes of silk or velvet can add to the magic of your party.Lastly, hang masks on walls or develop focal points with them for that ever so remarkable feeling. Start searching for a private party hall Houston TX, the moment the guest listing is prepared. Child love to put together problems so why not have young event guests reconstruct Art Deco art from the 20s. Many individuals actually enjoy placing inflatable hand trees given that they are extremely easy to locate and also will certainly light up your event. This is an excellent celebration for the girls, and you could reserve massagers, manicures, pedicures, as well as extra. Using my Mad Hatter's Tea ceremony as an example, I placed the special event paper napkin I have actually picked in the middle of the board due to the fact that it offers my color design fairly nicely. Easter themed party invites in addition to Easter relevant food, video games, designs and party supplies will guarantee everybody present has a terrific Easter holiday. Then have foods that fit it, if you are having actually a themed event. If you are having a luau themed celebration have Hawaiian foods and also drinks or if you are having a Xmas event then have Christmas themed foods. . Lastly it would certainly work to understand what to offer a tailgate celebration and this would depend upon where it is located and also exactly what you are tailgating. If you have actually never ever attended a swinger event and have been tweezing up the courage to do so, you could really feel quite relieved to understand that you won't be anticipated to play any type of grown-up video games. Mottos excel style event innovative concepts because they create that responsive interaction through visitors as well as you can now have a definition on a over the top that will certainly be readable throughout your personal event while you are having a Flick style. For example, publishing out treasure maps as well as hanging them on your walls (or fences, if you are holding the event exterior.) Try producing some straightforward scenery out of cardboard or felt to earn your home or lawn resemble a forest or jungle sort of area with added trees and also such. With a little creativity and creativity, you could create an enjoyable birthday celebration event for your youngster without investing a ton of money. Easter themed celebration invites could be hand-crafted, with few arts and crafts products, or can be pre-made invites. While searching for the place, seek the ones that not just provide the hall however various other facilities as well, like wedding catering, decoration and also DJ. There are lots of exclusive party venues Houston TX where, you can select the best one. Or prepare a Theme Event like a Luau, Feast, Pirate Event, Circus, Sports Celebration or Western Theme Party. If you desire to have a laid-back evening party, you can set the party city coupons march 2017 (read this) table in a buffet design and have all the table wares at one end and have floral setups on the other side.

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Articles, Marked Along with "Muscular tissue Development".

Twenty-eight individuals walk out to supper; they are attendees at a yearly conference; they do not find one another routinely. Breakfast in bed is overselled (although still romantic), make an effort dinner in mattress instead! You can locate simple supper ideas in the internet, as simple dinner concepts online are right away readily available for a quick endorsement for an on-the-spot dinner. I completed my dinner as swiftly as manners would certainly permit and also pressed my chair back, cleaning my mouth with the white linen napkin. The time teenagers devote with relative in a good environment such as dinner time greatly decreases the factor for teen cigarette, alcohol and drug make use of. Rehearsal dinner invitations usually showcase photos of a cake, a platter along with a blade as well as fork, a feast, a champagne container, or any usual dinner setup. Doubters such as Mullarkey have actually gone back to The Supper Event in later years and also stated that their point of views have actually certainly not modified. Bring along a handful of flicks and parlor game, together with a tasty meal made with a quick and easy dinner dish. When I made a decision to help make spaghetti as a dinner for my family members, I ended up utilizing this spaghetti dressing final night. Learning to prepare and also eat beneficial family supper is an indicator that eating the right food will keep their body systems fit and also not preventing food items. Straight, pertain to supper with me as well as inquire as numerous questions as you like - all night long! If you go with a mystery set, this must produce dinner and enhancing a little bit of much easier. Due to the fact that the 1960s, vivid as well as patterned bow-ties have actually become popular along with supper matches. Offer a blister, then reject to a simmer and leave uncovered for at least 1 relevant web site hr, however ideally 2. I want to start this initial thing in the early morning to eat lunch, or at noontime for a very early dinner. DE: Release Date 2010-09-23 Regarder Supper for Schmucks Film Complet En Francais. Your latest decision not to join the dinner for no factor other than-- based upon your distraught connection with journalism-- to boycott this, is actually an unfortunate one, to point out the least. Our experts had leftovers that I fed the kids the upcoming night when I made the following dinner package for my hubby as well as I to consume together when he left burn the midnight oil.

Quick 'one-liners' are actually still in fashion on the after dinner audio speaker circuit, whereas jokes are certainly not. When you are hosting a collection from dinner parties, think of exactly how you will certainly blend the various folks you know for your holiday dish. These dinner ware set would certainly be actually perfect for celebrations like Mama's Day, Graduations, Birthday celebrations, Many thanks Offering, Wedding and others. Make your Thanksgiving dinner celebration an unique one and a significant success with stunning platters from chicken. Thanksgiving is actually only close and I ensure you can't hang around to combine with your loved ones for a tiny dinner event. I love to cook and for many years I was preparing the same old thing as well as my household was actually bored with their dinner opportunity.

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Leading 10 Christmas time Party Invitations Templates.

Family members feasts, meals, Thanksgiving or every other affair asks for the absolute most elegant and also elegant Thanksgiving Turkey Platters as well as Tableware Prepare. Even though I've certainly never collaborated with Monchung fish in the past, I am actually presently picked a sauté method for dinner tonight, utilizing this new Hawaiian fish as well as some nearby rum to include and deglaze the pan flavor to the pan dressing. Bob Hope came to be the beginning papa from WHCD funny in 1944, yet this wasn't actually until the '90s that humor at the supper became a Thing. Kaffir (Sorghum bi-color) A lot better fit4you-blogonline.info beware using this term, in Africa kaffir is frequently utilized as an outrage particularly in southern Africa as a slandering phrase for a Dark individual. Thanksgiving supper stands for the companionship from a new kind of individuals in an entire brand new globe, and also the uniformity that is actually The United States. As loved ones have become more far-flung and destination wedding celebrations have actually come to be even more well-liked, nonetheless, the suggestion of such a small rehearsal dinner has actually become difficult. The cloth as well as black shoelace is actually quite fairly, as are actually all the invites on your page. The 2015 flick lineup will definitely drive admittance purchases, however AMC's calculated assets to strengthen food items and also refreshment sales will definitely be bush memory card throughout the year.

You may locate simple supper suggestions in the internet, as simple supper tips online are instantly readily available for an easy endorsement for an immediate supper. Norwegians normally eat supper around 4-5 PM. This is the most important dish of the day as well as normally features carbohydrate-rich meals like white potatos and also protein-rich meals such as meat or even fish.

One of the items that prosecutors state Dark and other half Barbara Amiel Black obtained a minimum of in part with corporate funds: ladies handbags, opera tickets, silverware for plane, drinks, restoring Rolls Royce, surprise special day celebration for Barbara at Los angeles Grenouille restaurant, dinners at Le Cirque restaurant along with Henry Kissinger and his partner. Company Description: Denny's restaurant situated at 1090 Wisconsin Dells Pkwy S in Lake Delton, WI as well as providing a selection from food items ranging from breakfast things to dinner meals 24 hours a day, 7 times a full week. I am actually searching for the black grain recepie from Houston's dining establishment since they are actually no more helping this at the restaurant.

After our experts completed with our paint we quit back at the lodging for a very quick downpour then had dinner at a Dominican cafeteria. Spandrio was actually amongst numerous folks which invested Xmas Time at the Conejo Lowland Area Supper where 160 university district employees, metropolitan area workers and also high school students volunteered to serve up a holiday season dish and also good cheer.