#Tudors / Cactus

[yellowcry]

Every Tudor rose has its thorns

No matter how little attention people had paid to the fact roses weren't inly beautiful flowers but also the sharp thorns ready for attack the said thorn would never go away

@encantober-official prompt - Rose

Isabela was perfect. Her life was coloured, decarated with the finest flowers. Elegant petals rose whenever whe went. Leaving a trail. Beautiful and elegant. Her hair wouldn't have a single strand wrong, always brushed until there's no even the smallest bunch that's messed. Her dress was flowing over her, elegant airy sleeves gently curled over her skin. Each stitch of her dress was perfect. Being created by Encanto's best seamstresses, decorated by the greatest embroiderers. Not a single seam would ever go wrong. Not a single snitch could fall off. It was perfect, just like Isabela.

Flowers were pretty. Isabela spent her days pleasing everyone's eye. Elegant pose, flowing movements. Like the sea waters, ruffling the algas leaves. Soft and delicate, what everyone wanted her to be. World best actress never needed a stage for her performance. Because the act didn't wither. No matter if her stomach clutched in disgust at the very thought of marrying Mariano. This wasn't about her. It was for the family. Abuela would be so upset if Isabela didn't do as she told. And Isabela was a good girl. Good girls didn't upset anyone.

Isabela trained herself. So she never took a wrong step. Always gracious. Perfect like an angel. Petals falling behind her, sweet smell attracting bees. Good thing the didn't get stings allergy from their dad like Luisa did. It would look imperfect if Isabela had huge swellings over her body. And it wasn't like Isabela could go heal during the day. She didn't want to stain her airy dress with an accidental crumb falling on it.

Even if sometimes she snapped. When vile inside was boiling, unwillingly spreading out before Isabela could even think of it. Hitting what she could, twisting it between the sharp thorns of her tongue. If anyone dared to say a wrong word, make a wrong look, the anger was rising inside her chest with each breath. Ready to attack before anyone else got a chance. Agression prinkled from her skin, sharp and ready to hit. Not exactly a proper lady behavior. But, no matter how much Isabela bit her tongue, trying to swallow this feeling deeper, sometimes it broke out. And Isabela bit.

She never knew why she acted this way. Anger just took a hold of her. Pushing and boiling under the surface. Until her veins were withered. And bile pushed her all the way until Isabela couldn't breathe. It was wrong. Alma wanted her to be like a rose. Not some cactus that would lash out on anyone.

But... roses have thorns, don't they?

It was a bitter irony. With the pretty flower, so often people forgot that their thick green stems had sharp claws. Snarling onto whoever came near it. Isabela was the same. Only that you couldn't cut hers out. It wasn't physical to see. But pulsated withing her. Sharpened for some, at then pushed deeper for others. No matter how much Isabela tried to keep them inside. The thorns were a part of the flower. Stronger than Luisa, they broke every scissors that tried to cut them off.

Everyone always overlooked the drawning bloor stems for the nicest smell and the gentlest cups growing over it. They forgot how such pretty flowers weren't pushovers. And Isabela was no different. She fought, attacked no matter how much they forgot it. Sharp tongue, sharp temper. Short and so hot. A burning lava flowing inside her veins. It was ready to burst out like an unstoppable vulcano. Whenever something was out of control, when Isabela was so done she couldn't hold it in.

She wanted to be perfect, to keep everyone happy and hold her comprosure. But the thorns attacked whenever anyone tried to push her too far. Angry. Too snappy to be accepted as normal. Isabela had long learnt it wasn't about what she wanted. It was about the family. SHe had to be perfect so bad parts of their lives would't get discovered. Blossom making sure nobody pays attention to where it grows or what was happening around it.

It hurt. Always holding everything back. Trying to stop sharp greenery but being unable to do so at all. She wanted to be good, she had spent hours trying tomake sure the edges of her smile wouldn't falter. Days when Isabela embellished those graceful poses into her mind with the pain and tears. Isabela knew her act couldn't falter. Sweet in natute. But with the spite rooting deep within her.

Even if Isabela knew it wasn't a proper, 'ladylike' behavior, she couldn't stop it. Regardless of how many times her mind tried to knock into her head that she couldn't upset anyone. And she was for sertain sure she did. No matter how painful the thorns were hitting whoever was close the moment anything got out of control. Painful, leaving Isabela's fingers stained in blood which was invisible to anyone but her. Because they never took rose thorns into account.

[justadeadreaper]

Please read.

I realised that I need to do a post for my boundaries and for people to get to know me. So let me just say some basic facts about me: ❇Hi my name is Ozzie. ❇I’m 19. ❇I’m 6’2”. ❇I’m from the same country as Bell in the Wych Elm. ❇I am a trangender man and use he/they/it pronouns but I don’t mind feminine terms being used as I don’t care much about gender rules. ❇I have autism so sometimes I can come off as a bit robotic. But, my special interests are mythology, folklore, history, cryptids, and more which I may add later. ❇My favourtie song is Lover, Don’t Leave Me by Bocce. ❇My favourite food is ice cream sandwiches made with marshmallow chunks in vanilla clotted cream ice cream and white chocolate, dried strawberries, and honeycomb cookies (I have a concerning sweet tooth). ❇My favourite season is Winter. ❇My favourite musical is Beetlejuice. ❇My favourite movie genre is Horror.

I will try to reply to comments but if there are too many comments I will not be able to as it will get overwhelming so please don’t be mad at me. But please feel free to ask me questions about anything or to talk to me at any time as I want to build a loving community. Besides me telling you my headcanons for our favourite COD characters or you telling me yours or me talking about my AU ideas, I’d be extremely ecstatic to talk to you about anything to build a bond between all of us. What fandoms do I write for? This will be a list of fandoms I will write for which may be added onto if I decide: ❇Call of Duty (Which it will mostly be about as I am a big fan and see so much potential in it.) What fandoms am I in which you can talk to me about? This will be a list of fandoms I would love to talk about as I absolutely adore them or have a love hate relationship, it may be added onto if I decide: ❇Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel ❇Call of Duty ❇Cookie Run Kingdom ❇Good Omens What are my interests which you can talk to me about? This will be a list of fandoms I would love to talk about which may be added onto if I decide: ❇Mythology and folklore (Greek, Norse, Slavic, Chinese, Japanese, etc.) ❇History (Most eras such as the Victorian, famous Pirates, Tudor, but I’d love to talk about others) ❇Demonology and Angelology ❇Cryptids ❇Musicals ❇Masked men ❇Horror movies ❇Baking ❇Analog Horror

Rules? I have some very basic rules that I want to go over with you but more can be added depended on what happens: ❇I can write SFW or NSFW content depending on what you guys want, now if you do not want to see any NSFW content then please do not interact as I will not take the hate and will block. ❇For all NSFW content all of the characters will be 18+ as MAPs/Pedos with all those different kinds based on the child’s age (gross) or anything and everything in between are not welcome and can not kindly fuck off as you fuck yourself home with a cactus in your ass. I am not joking, I will block and report you. ❇This blog may contain triggering or dark content as I am a heavy angst or darker writer. I will most likely write it very often once I’ve finished with my character analyses and I’ll probably be reblogging or interacting with other dark content blogs if I see something that does catch my eye. If you’re not comfortable with any of that then pretty please do not interact with this blog or please block the tags. Do not blame me as I will be thoroughly tagging my posts as I need to find them myself. ❇This blog will contain spoilers which are tagged appropriately so if you see a spoiler do not complain or harass me for it as it has been tagged and it says spoilers in capitals and bold. ❇This is an 18+ blog, even if it does not look like it yet as the NSFW will be coming later, so absolutely no minors and people under 18 at all. End of discussion. I know and you obviously know that I can't control everyone and how they use the internet or what they interact with but please just be respectful of my boundaries and not to interact with this blog, I don’t encourage you to read this but if you have to for some unbeknownst reason to me then at least don’t reblog or like my posts. You will be blocked if you do. ❇Absolutely no harassment as I want this to be a safeplace for almost all except Pedos, Bigots, Homophobes, Racists, Transphobes, Woman-haters (like Andrew Tate or Sneako), etc. If you harass someone or me or post stuff about those then you will be blocked. ❇Every once in a while I will be checking my followers so you will be blocked if you go against my rules. What I can or will write about? Things that I will write about if you ask me: ❇Gore as in body wounds, torture, interrogations, body horror, cannibalism, etc. ❇I will write “yandere” but please call it stalker or obsessed as I do not like that term. ❇Omegaverse ❇Hybrids ❇AUs ❇Fluff/SFW ❇NSFW, I may be a virgin but I will write about kinky scenarios. ❇Requested scenarios with characters (Such as “What would it be like to have {insert character} help you confront your alcohol issues?). ❇Long and miniature fics. ❇Angst ❇Gore as in body wounds, torture, interrogations, body horror, etc. ❇Requests or suggestions if I like them or find them interesting. ❇I will write female, male, transgender, gender neutral, nonbinary, genderfluid, etc. reader. ❇Character x Character ❇Character Analysis ❇Triggering subjects ❇OC x Canon ❇My own OCs or friends’ OCs. What I can not or will not write: Things that I will not write about if you ask me and more will be added on as I go along and see what I’m comfortable with: ❇Vore, I am comfortable writing cannibalism but vore is just too far for me. ❇Adult/Minor, as I’ve said before Pedos can fuck off. I will most likely be adding more as I spend more time writing here and seeing what I am or am not comfortable with, but these are the rules for now and the most basic ones I have. Now I know I haven’t listed everything as I haven’t thought of everything so if you want to ask to make sure, please do. But please just be respectful to me and each other and yourself. Make sure that you understand the rules before requesting or interacting.

Now I will do any type of reader. Due to being transgender, reader will almost always be either female, AFAB, transgender male, or gender neutral. I will do others if it is requested by a lot of people but male reader is thin ice which I may avoid due to how common it is to be harassed for being a fetishist of gay men for writing male, since yes I may be a man but I have been told before that I’m only transgender to get away with it and I have seen others be harassed. So yes I might do it but I will tread those waters carefully and most likely only do it when asked but if I am harassed I will stop it completely. But honestly, for most of my posts reader will be gender neutral or AFAB if not stated otherwise for scenarios but specific fics will be female or transgender male. Other things such as race, body type, height, weight, tattoos, scars, specific body characteristics, etc. will be completely neutral unless I have stated otherwise or have been requested by someone. I will also do disabilities if requested but all readers will have a slight tinge of neurodivergence as I am autistic and that tends to bleed into my writing. Sorry if any of this seems rude or harsh or hostile but I have been advised to be firm with my boundaries to stop me from having problems in the long run and I am going with it as I am normally a pushover. Masterlist and AUs? I will not be having a normal masterlist as most of my posts will either be character analyses for my AUs or fics based upon those AUs or talking about scenarios for characters so I do not see the need for a normal masterlist. Instead, once I have posted the summary for that AU I will link it to here, and under the summaries in that post I will have links to all the other parts of the AU like the fics, scenarios with characters, and analyses which I will try to update as I go along, this is to just make everything easier to find. The list at the moment will just be a list of the AUs I’m going to be doing so see it as spoilers but as I go along the links will be added: ❇COD Angel! AU ❇COD Bug! AU ❇COD Celestial! AU ❇COD Cryptid! AU ❇COD Demon! AU ❇COD Fairytale! AU ❇COD Magical! AU ❇COD Mythological! AU ❇COD Pirate! AU ❇COD Plague! AU ❇COD Royal! AU ❇COD Shopkeeper! AU ❇COD Victorian! AU ❇COD Wonderland! AU

Anyone can use my AUs as long as I am credited as I do not care much and I like see how people will use my AUs as I love sharing ideas and helping people create things by giving them a basic base. Just have fun with it.

[katherinebotten]

The Sun - Kaycyy. Aldinga. Port Willunga. Men mythologise their life if they are women. Women are filled with doubt if they are men. Men are filled with faith if they are women. I’m in the field of the field talking to the field receiving as the field asking for: an Indonesian vernacular style custom Tudor house set in a field like days of heaven the Tudor house looks pinched up to the sky like a church, scary and too thin and tall like sky qi snorting it. Lakshmi House (Hate House). Sheep skin walls. Andy Warhol factory walls. Japanese mud ball glossy walls. Mirror ball walls. Laura Ashley walls. William Morris walls. Mostly trad plain Tudor walls, a reprieve. Baby blue walls. A couch made of vintage denim Levi 501s and tartan mohair throws from England and Scotland and a dark green duck down sleeping bag as a blanket no zips. Antique military wool rug. An xxl vintage bomber jacket stuffed w duck down feathers stitched into a soft toy ersatz boyfriend I hold it. I wrote We hold each other but it’s not true!!!! It’s always one person holding another not both. Men don’t hold women. Deepak says everything in the field is intelligent. I G’d up the qi it activated some old code, the old code was rancid, desperate for an audience. Yellow brown orange baby blue navy blue Stained glass window in the chapel in the Tudor house. Sitting there on my wooden meditation stool. The house is near an ocean. I can hear the waves. Actually I’m in a different house because I hate hate house. I was meant to be a train-hopper, what happened? I walk around in the Twin Peaks waitress outfit, with tap shoe maryjanes. Tap shoe clogs. Private school uniforms. Christian Science. Lana del Rey in a trailer - he could mythologise this chapter of his life, he could explain how this was walking with god. I get a job in a factory. On the way to work I look at the stars because it’s fucking night. Two quarks on the opposite ends of history pair up in a nonlocal moment this keeps me going (Pandora’s box; idiot; “a small mind will only create half a world. Unable to see the whole, it only sees parts of the whole.” (Maharishi)). Cactus, South Australia 1960. 1970. Rishikesh. Hawai’i. 2023. Me when I’m one — I’m in a blanket I’m telepathically communicating to my 33 year old self “No more Bill’s!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Not lying to the nurse when she asks me my pain out of ten it’s 3. I have shingles in my asshole on an anal fistula the crohns I’m disappearing w iconoclasm got a project extension I tell her 3 but explain I’m David Blaine which means it’s a material 8. Thefield Endone Rockstar Freeman Trust Faith [Father’s Name] Katherine.

[em-sars]

My 2013 Hipster soul would die that I'm admitting this, but I have realised that I am a Standard Issue Bisexual Woman.* I will progress with some facts about myself that I deem relevant to proving this point.

Physical appearance:

Nose ring(s) - I have a nostril hoop and a septum ring (and too many ear piercings).

Coloured hair - presently, my hair is my natural blonde because I needed a break from dying my hair, BUT usually, my hair is a fun color (I like pink and purple on myself the most).

Tattoos - while tattoos are very common now (perhaps like the above two bullet points), my current tattoos are a saguaro cactus, the goddess Athena, a celestial snake, and a sword which I've been told is extraordinarily Bisexual™️.

Clothes - I generally wear either waisted mom jeans / jorts with a Hawaiian shirt OR I dress like a '70s witch (think Stevie Nicks but in '70s orange / rust as well as black).

Interests:

I'm a historian specialising in women's history, in particular during Ancient Greece, the Tudor Period, and the Regency Era. Need I say more?

I sew historical costumes (but recreationally and paid for a theatre), and I used to be on cast at a Renaissance Festival until I moved for college.

I both write and read avidly; presently, I've been gouging myself on Dramione fanfiction (both writing and reading).

This one might be a little out there, but hear me out. Rock climbing, specifically bouldering. This community is (in my experience as a climber in California) filled with hippie, granola bisexuals of all genders and (unfortunately) toxic straight men.

Additional Facts:

My partner is also bisexual.

We (I) have a cat.

Favourite (Romance) Tropes:

Enemies to Lovers - I feel that the majority of female readership looking for this dynamic is probably queer. I think a lot of us are Austen-lovers at heart, so who can resist a good old Lizzy / Darcy romance?

Idiots in Love - aren't we, the chronically indecisive and burned-out ex-Gifted Kids who are natural people pleasers, unable to recognise the difference between 'just being nice' and flirting?

Basically to sum up the previous two, Slow Burn.

Basically, I wish I could say I'm Quirky and Unique, but unfortunately, I picked the Basic Package when I got my membership papers for the Bisexual Club.

*My pronouns are She/They. Calling myself a woman is the easiest thing, though that doesn't fully represent how I feel about my gender.

[grandexpresstour]

Discovering Unforgettable Journeys: The Grand Tours Bus Experience in Orange County

Introduction

Beverly Hills, the epitome of luxury and glamour, has long been an iconic destination that captivates travelers from around the world. Nestled in the heart of Los Angeles County, this affluent city beckons visitors with its opulent shopping, exquisite dining, and stunning landmarks. For those seeking a seamless and comfortable journey to Beverly Hills, Grand Tours Buspresents the perfect solution with its charter bus rental services in Orange County. Let's embark on an exciting adventure to discover the hidden gems of Beverly Hills and the convenience of a charter bus.

The Convenience of Charter Bus Rental in Orange County

When planning a trip to Beverly Hills, transportation logistics can often be a concern, especially for larger groups. Grand Tours Bus addresses this concern with its top-notch charter bus rental services in Orange County. Whether you're traveling with family, friends, colleagues, or even organizing a special event, a charter bus offers a stress-free and efficient way to reach Beverly Hills.

Comfort and Safety on the Road

One of the primary advantages of opting for a charter bus is the emphasis on passenger comfort and safety. Grand Tours Bus ensures that travelers experience a smooth and enjoyable ride, complete with plush seating, climate control, and ample legroom. Moreover, their team of skilled drivers is highly trained to prioritize safety, making your journey to Beverly Hills both comfortable and secure.

Exploring Beverly Hills: A Beverly Hills Tour

Once you've arrived in Beverly Hills with Grand Tours Bus, it's time to indulge in the city's renowned attractions and experiences. The Beverly Hills tour is a delightful adventure that encapsulates the essence of this iconic destination.

The Wilshire Hotel Beverly Hills

To begin your Beverly Hills tour, a visit to The Wilshire Hotel Beverly Hills is a must. This luxurious boutique hotel offers a timeless elegance and a prime location, making it an ideal choice for discerning travelers. Its proximity to Rodeo Drive and other famous landmarks makes it the perfect starting point for your exploration.

Rodeo Drive - Shop in Style

No visit to Beverly Hills is complete without a stroll down the legendary Rodeo Drive. As you peruse the world's most prestigious fashion boutiques and jewelers, you'll immerse yourself in the glamorous ambiance that has been immortalized in movies and pop culture.

Beverly Gardens Park - Serenity Amidst Glamour

Escape the bustling streets and find tranquility at the Beverly Gardens Park. This beautiful park features a cactus garden, the iconic Beverly Hills Sign, and the famous Lily Pond, providing the perfect backdrop for photos and relaxation.

Greystone Mansion and Park - Historic Splendor

A visit to the historic Greystone Mansion and Park is a journey back in time. This Tudor Revival estate boasts stunning architecture, manicured gardens, and breathtaking views of the city, making it a popular filming location for various movies and TV shows.

Conclusion

Beverly Hills remains an enchanting destination that continues to captivate visitors with its allure of luxury, culture, and history. With Grand Tours Bus as your trusted charter bus rental in Orange County, embarking on a Beverly Hills tour becomes an effortless and enjoyable experience. From the opulent streets of Rodeo Drive to the serene beauty of Beverly Gardens Park and the historic grandeur of Greystone Mansion, this glamorous city has something to offer every traveler.

So, gather your friends, family, or colleagues and hop aboard a Grand Tours Bus to Beverly Hills. Prepare to be mesmerized by the splendor of Beverly Hills while relishing the convenience, comfort, and safety of your charter bus journey. Beverly Hills awaits you!

For more info:-

the wilshire hotel beverly hills

Beverly Hills tour

[bartholomaus]

Cam ce postează un ”bun român”. Studiu și analiză ...

Vârsta medie 35-65 ani. Meseria sau sexul nu contează. Marea majoritate din postări sunt comune multor români.

Caracteristica generală: lipsa dubiilor și a îndoielilor, convingerile absolute, preluarea necritică a oricăror informații care le gâdilă orgoliul, abundă temele nostalgice, împărțirea în alb și negru a tuturor, inclusiv a vremurilor (ieri-bine, azi-rău)... Multe teme preluate de la propaganda rusă în diversele ei forme. Există o bogată critica a politicienilor (hoți, mincinoși, lacomi) per ansamblu dar niciodată a PSDului sau a pesediștilor

Deci, teme populare românești:

- Copiii erau respectuoși în trecut, azi amenință profesorii cu pistolul,

-Oamenii erau decenți în trecut, acum sunt plini de tatuaje și inelușe în nas,

-Oamenii se îmbrăcau cu gust pe vremuri, acum se îmbracă ca niște homosexuali ,

-Poză un soldat francez răpănos dar demn din ww1 și o poză a unui hipster efeminat (vai de noi!),

-Poză mausoleu: ” Glorie eroilor noștrii care au luptat la Mărășești”,

-Imagini cu burghezi îmbrăcați elegant din anii 30, când exista bună-rânduială și bun-simț,

-Hoax cu o floare magică din Himalaya care înflorește o dată la 400 de ani (în realitate o poză cu floarea unui cactus din Arizona care înflorește anual),

-Citat patriotic din Vadim Tudor (”și-a iubit mult țara, chiar dacă a mai făcut greșeli”),

-Poză nostalgică cu Maria Tănase (ehei ce artiști aveam odinioară),

-Avionul IAR-80 (ehei ce ingineri aveam odinioară),

-Multe poze cu mâini bătucite de țărani, (unele din Turcia sau Rusia): părinții noștri care știau ce e munca!,

-Poză cu împărțirea administrativă a României în anii 50: De ce ne-au impus rușii ”Regiunea Autonomă Maghiară”? (grrr!),

-Montaje foto – glumițe cu bețivani,

-Poză cu Ceaușescu și text: ”Ultima oară când l-am văzut construise o Țară”

-Poză bere rece,

-Poză cu o fată frumoasă în ie (cămașă) preluată fără să știe de la ruși, ucrainieni, bulgari sau unguri și prezentată ca românească: ” CEa mai frumoasă cămașă populară din Europa - ia românească”

-Căpșuni de import (rele) versus căpșuni dacice (bune) – uite unde ne-a adus agricultura UE,

-Poze cu tomate care tăiate au mult verde (asta vreți să mâncați?),

-Poză dulceagă cu ouă de Paște și cozonac: Hristos a Inviat! ,

-30 de pagini pozate dintr-o carte naționalistă din anii 30 despre Unirea din 1918,

-România trezește-te: selecție de caricaturi și montaje foto care ne arată cum România e o colonie condusă de americani și evrei malefici și lacomi,

-Poze despre cum în China se falsifică mâncarea în condiții insalubre (Doamne unde o să ajungem?),

-Poză apus soare cu texte zen despre cum să fi fericit,

-Poză cu tricolor pe care scrie ” nu mi-am dorit să mă nasc român, am avut noroc”,

-Poză soldați români în ww2: Datorită lor vorbim încă limba română,

-Poză Mihai Viteazul cu versurile ” Să știți voi europenii, că de-ar fi fost olteanul, azi, în genunchi citeați Coranul” ,

-Poză băbuță de la munte cu zâmbet blajin și multe riduri care îți întinde un măr, cu textul ”a fi OM nu ține de averi”,

-Poză Codruța Kovesi (Jigodie!),

-Caricatură cu Băsescu: ”unde morții m//i ai dus Flota?”,

-Fotografie prelucrată cu Iohannis nazist,

-poză 3 femei culturiste cu mușchi versus 3 bărbați uscați cu fustă, la o prezentare de modă (Doamne,unde o să ajungem?),

-Poză defilare ostași români : Respect Armata Română!,

-Icoană Sf Gheorghe cu 2 pahare șampanie: La mulți ani celor ce poartă numele Sf Mare Mucenic Gheorge,

-Poză cu travestiți grotesc la o paradă ghei undeva în străinătate: UE vrea să considerăm asta normal,

-Angela Merkel pe post de vampir,

-Montaj foto cu camion cu bușteni tăiați și cu Iohannis care râde, -Icoană cu Arhanghelii Mihail și Gavriil: ”La mulți ani...”,

-Citat Zen dintr-un călugăr rus cu chip blajin,

-Poză Ceaușescu cu fals citat : ”Tovarăși, acum înțelegeți de ce nu am vrut democrație? În comunism furați voi de la Stat, în democrație fură Statul de la voi”,

Panseu înșelept preot Ctin Necula, cu poză,

-Poza cu slănină cu ceapă: sushi de Ardeal,

-Foto montaj. Text : România este stat suveran și independent. Dedesupt poză cu Putin și Merkel care râd,

-Citat Țu��ea,

-Glume porcoase cu ”laughing-face” mare, cu lacrimi,

-Glume misogine cu neveste și amante cu ”laughing-face” mare, cu lacrimi,

-Poză cu Regina Maria: Respect!,

-10 poze cu copii proprii,

-Harta ”Imperiului daco-pelasgic”,

-Poză țăblițele de la Tărtăria tricolore,

-Linkuri articole Cocoon și Efemeride

-Peisaje pitorești de munte, apusuri de soare

-Drapel tricolor cu draco dacic suprapus

[ducktail964]

多肉植物 #tudor #tudorsubmariner #tudor7928 #tswisst #vintagediver #vintagetudor #cactus #チュードル #薔薇サブ #サブマリーナ #ヴィンテージチュードル #ヴィンテージサブマリーナ #カクタス #7928 #roseandmatchstick https://www.instagram.com/p/CBSkGErn83k/?igshid=125kii4hnda3g

[cactusnotes]

Key Individuals and the Pilgrimage of Grace

The Pilgrimage of Grace was the largest threat to Henry VIII’s reign: partly because it contained several nobles who were meant to help Henry. This post will outline a few individuals involved. 

Lord Hussey was, with his cousin, associated with the Pilgrimage of Grace regarding the laws, rather than any actual participation, leading to his execution. He was once a close friend with Henry, accompanying him to the ‘Field of the Cloth of Gold’ in 1520, signing a petition to get Henry’s divorce and giving evidence of Catherine and Arthur’s marriage in court--however this is no protection. He was put in charge of Mary and his allegiance wavered, and he is reported by Chapyus to be in favour of a national uprising if Charles V invaded, his wife was arrested for calling Mary a princess, and he begged not to be sat in Reformation Parliament (though Cromwell forced him to do so). 

When the Pilgrimage of Grace came about, he was threatened with physical violence by the rebels, but he refused, and instead kept sending the king their letters. However, when asked to repress the rebellion by Henry, Hussey did nothing. He was summoned to Windsor for this, where he wrote a letter to Darcy asking him to secure the ‘traitor’ Aske. Though he initially was released, he came again under suspicion, and was convicted with Lord Darcy--his option way out being naming others involved, which he could not do due to his ignorance to the situation. Though Hussey was technically neutral, his inability to stop the revolt flew against him leading to his execution in 1537. Once his execution was confirmed, he cancelled the debts of those who were indebted to him.

Lord Darcy appeared to be more clear about his allegiance: not Henry. He ended a friendship with Wolsey believing only the Papacy had matrimonial authority, and discussed English invasion with Charles V, leading to him being forced to stay in London for five years, likely making him more bitter when he returned up North a year before the Pilgrimage of Grace. He told Henry of the uprisings and asked to be removed to Pontefract castle: he was meant to protect it, but very quickly ‘lost’ it to Robert Aske, sooner than its strength warranted. He spoke to Aske and joined them, swearing the Pilgrimage Oath, noting it didn’t blame Henry, but his mates.

He didn’t lead, but sent soldiers and marks of support, including the five-wounds banner.  Like Hussey, he appealed to not be in the Parliament on account of ‘illness’. Though he partly helped with suppression of it’s aftershock in January 1537, he was summoned to be given ‘thanks’ by Henry, though actually was arrested.  He famously said to Cromwell in prison: "Cromwell, it is thou that art the very original and chief causer of all this rebellion and mischief...though thou wouldst procure all the noblemen's heads within the realm to be stricken off, yet shall there one head remain that shall strike off thy head.”

Earl of Northumberland, Henry Percy, lived a dangerous life...by that, I mean an affair with Anne Boleyn. Though seemed to redeem himself in 1536 when he was a part of the judges which condemned the Queen to death, tormenting him so much that he became terribly ill and collapsed once her death was pronounced. That very year also held the pilgrimage of Grace. His ill health meant he could not take part in this rebellion if he wanted too, which is likely pretty good, since his brothers who did take part, Thomas and Ingram, were arrested, the former being hung drawn and quartered (considered a martyr by many now), the latter died in the Tower of London. His bad health also, to his own word, prevented him from taking military action against the rebellion. 

Aske actually had come to Castle to try to gain his support, or else Percy’s life would be in danger. Henry Percy refused, saying that he didn’t care, death would be welcome--'he fell in weeping, ever wishing himself out of the world’. Aske sent him to York to protect the Earl from his furious followers, who wanted to behead him. However, he did give up his castle, legally and formally, so Aske could direct the rebellion from there. Henry Percy died on 29th June 1537.

Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Howard (uncle of Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard) was sent North to help suppress the rebellion due to his shared command of the King's forces with the Earl of Shrewsbury. Being Roman Catholic, they hoped they would trust him more. Thomas Darcy, Robert Constable and Francis Bigod  negotiated with him, he initially asked for them to give up Aske peacefully, but they rejected that. Norfolk returned to London, suggesting the king should offer pardon, disband rebels, then punish the leaders easier. Henry did so. He avoided battle by promising a general pardon and a Parliament in York…which never occurred, leading to a relapse in the rebellion the following year, and Howard carried out a brutal retribution due to this. Bigod’s rebellion was met with 4,000 men from Aske and Howard’s forces, since Aske had been accused of betrayal. 

After, Robert Aske, Darcy and Constable were asked by the Duke of Norfolk to return to London to be given Thanks by the King for helping to put down the Bigod rebellion. When they arrived they were arrested, sent to the Tower, tried, and ended up executed.

Lord Dacre was part of the squad that condemned Anne of adultery and incest, despite being a teen. He also dispatched 200 soldiers in the fight against the rebels in the Pilgrimage of Grace, which was quickly disbanded, and also formed part of the group that tried the rebels, including Lord Darcy. In the end, he was executed for a murder he had nothing to do with after illegally goin on someone else’s land.

Robert Aske worked briefly for Henry Percy, and later became a lawyer, associated with the Star Chamber. He was captured by Lincolnshire rebels, and agreed to use his lawyer skills to help them: write up their letters and demands which blamed not the king, but his advisors and leaders, as Moorhouse explained, "Robert Aske never wavered in his belief that a just and well-ordered society was based upon a due recognition of rank and privilege, starting with that of their anointed prince, Henry VIII." Aske returned to Yorkshire, ready to start a Pilgrimage of Grace. In a few days, 40,000 men had risen in the East Riding and were marching on York. They swore the Pilgrimage of Grace oath, and Aske published a declaration obliging "every man to be true to the king's issue, and the noble blood, and preserve the Church of God from spoiling".

Robert Aske and his rebels entered York on 16th October. It is estimated that Aske now led an army that numbered 20,000. Then they went to Pontrefract. Then Lancashire. Then Durham, Westmorland, Northumberland and Cumberland. Here, they got monks and an abbot to return to a closed abbey, and Henry ordered them to be hung without trial. Aske is praised as a good leader. Only one fellow was killed, and he showed force, but not violence, and refused to move South, for his point was of the North, how the North should have a say, and a few of those demands, such as removing Cromwell, not Henry. Then Howard came up North, asked for Aske, got rejected, and came up with the promise of peace, and invited Aske to London.

Robert Aske spent the Christmas holiday with Henry at Greenwich Palace. When they first met Henry told Aske: "Be you welcome, my good Aske; it is my wish that here, before my council, you ask what you desire and I will grant it." Aske replied: "Sir, your majesty allows yourself to be governed by a tyrant named Cromwell. Everyone knows that if it had not been for him the 7,000 poor priests I have in my company would not be ruined wanderers as they are now." Henry gave the impression that he agreed with Aske about Thomas Cromwell and asked him to prepare a history of the previous few months. To show his support he gave him a jacket of crimson silk.

While this occured, Sir Francis Bigod complained of Aske and Darcy betraying the Pilgrimage of Grace, and started his own rebellion. Aske and Howard joined forces of 4000 to crush this. He was asked back to London, where he was charged with renewed conspiracy after pardon. It was Cromwell, ironically, who questioned him, with 107 written questions. Not only was he unable to lie, but he was unable to hide the truth, he was damn honest! He confessed to his huge involvement in the Pilgrimage of Grace. Still, Cromwell twisted a letter of Aske telling his followers to stay home and not join Bigod’s forces into a case of preventing his followers from joining the King’s army, thus still supporting Bigod. On market day in York, he was dragged through streets, and hung from chains off Clifford’s Tower.

[randomvarious]

Today’s mix:

Killabites (Phat 'N Inphectious Drum 'N' Bass) by Dom & Roland 2000 Drum n Bass

I've now listened to three different drum n bass mixes in the past few weeks that I'd never heard before and all three have managed to completely split my goddamn wig. I'm just in such fucking jaw-dropped awe over these, and especially this one. London's Dom & Roland took a particular strain of drum n bass that I can't say that I even like very much and he still managed to royally fuck my shit up. Good god, Dom.

You remember those "this is your brain and this is your brain on drugs" ads where your brain on drugs represented the contents of an uncooked egg on a skillet or some shit? Well, this mix is your brain on drugs, and your brain is that uncooked egg, but your egg-brain is in that stage just before it's thrown on that skillet; see, Killabites represents that beating stage. It's just two CDs of constant and steadily rapid, mind-battering whisk action 😍.

And to show you just how fucking good of an artist Dom & Roland is, dude laid out a slate of 44 tracks here, 99% of which totally bang, but each of the tracks that he himself was directly involved in, either by his own producing or through remixing, are the ones that bang the hardest. What a fucking G.

Go listen to Timecode's 99.1 mix and disc 1 of Goldie's INCredible Sound Of Drum'n'Bass mix if you want more of what I've been on this summer. You won't regret it.

Listen to the full mix here.

Highlights:

CD1:

Bad Company - "Dead Side" Konflict - "Malestrom" Rascal & Klone - "Twister" Pro-Active - "Cactus" Infinite - "Beachball" Dylan & Loxy - "Eclipse" Bammer - "Device" Decoder - "Dead Calm" Boom Boom Satellites - "Dub Me Crazy Ver 02 (Optical Remix)" Bad Company - "Oxygen" Hijackers - "Polymorphic" Ryme Tyme & Trace - "Move (VIP)" Shere Khan - "One Day" AK1200 & Danny Breaks - "Deep Porn (VIP)" Capone - "The Growler" SKAB Alliance - "Skanning For Lifeformz" Pro-Active - "Mr. Men" Ryme Tyme - "Judgement Day" Kraken - "Side Effects (Stakka & Skynet Remix)" Signal To Noise - "Nanobugs" Ryme Tyme - "Frogger"

CD2:

Dom & Roland - "Thunder (Remix)" Digital & Spirit - "Phantom Force" nCode - "Traction" Jonny L - "The Bells" Hex - "Force" TJ Rizing - "Earthworm" Future Forces - "Strontium Jazz (Dillinja Remix)" Cyba Space - "What Way To Turn (Dom & Roland Remix)" Biostacis - "Menace" Capone - "Tudor Rose" Cyba Space - "Life (Dom & Roland Remix)" Exile - "Fatal Exception" Absolute Zero & Subphonics - "The Code (Usual Suspects Remix)" Deep Rooted - "Soul Catcher" TJ Rizing - "Agent 007" Stskka & Skynet Featuring Kemal + Rob Data - "Biosfear" Dylan - "Mentasm" Renegade - "Terrorist (Dom & Roland Remix)" SD - "Dienamix (Dom & Roland Remix)" Dom & Roland - "Trauma" D. Kay - "Monolith" Dom & Roland - "Original Sin"

[2o2o-kit]

What your favourite Horrible Histories Era says about you:

Savage Stone Age: You identify as Ugh or Grunt

Awful Egyptians: You enjoy cutting the guts out of people

Groovy Greeks: You want to major in Philosophy

Cut-Throat Celts: You wouldn’t mind seeing the Six Idiots perform Celtic battles in the nude

Rotten Romans: You enjoy corrupt politics

Smashing Saxons: You are Team Monk

Vicious Vikings: You are Team Viking

Measle Middle Ages: You already had a plague mask before 2020, with a beak!

Shocking Scotland: You are from Scotland or just really hate Braveheart

Incredible Incas: You want a llama, stay calma when you want a llama call a llama farmer

Angry Aztecs: You have a mini cactus in your room

Terrible Tudors: You are ready to behead some people

Fabulous French: You think you are street no? Revolution, Napoleon

Slimy Stuarts: You are either a Jesus Freak or like to party

Putrid Pirates: You can’t be trusted

Gorgeous Georgians: You live for fashion of that era, *Tricorn hats need to make a come back*

Vile Victorians: Your manners are either the best or the worst

Awesome USA: You are an American wondering why do you like this show made by the tea-taxing tyranny, our favorite does not need u!

Potty Pioneers: You’ve realized the brave people you’ve learned about in history class are probably a-holes

Frightful First World War: You will defend your friend if someone else’s friend’s friends threatened your friend’s friend because that’s what friends do.

Woeful Second World War: You are likely to become that one uncle who’s a ‘history bluff’ but only knows about one war

[thebiasrekkers]

Breathe: Hope In Isolation | PJM

For the @bangtanscenery​ - April Showers Bring May Flowers Project in celebration of the Spring Season!

Plot: For as long as Jimin can remember, the house is all he’s ever known. His only companion, a calico cat. Neither of them age as the house pulls them through time and space. He can neither interact with people nor stray far from the house. He is cursed to watch the world pass by every year and never be a part of it. But one day, someone not only is able to see the house, but they can finally see him as well.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: time-slip!au | modern fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama

Pairing: Park Jimin x Female OC (Brianna Larkins)

Warnings: Strong language, extreme angst, anxiety, implication of curses/magic

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 11.4K

AN: This idea came from a mash-up song of Billie Eilish and BTS. Specifically the song "Serendipity". I have been told that this story is the epitome of what Serendipity stands for and to me, that is the greatest compliment I could ever hope to receive. In a time of isolation, like what we are experiencing now, it's always important to remember the things that matter the most to us. Which are often the things we take for granted. So for those of you who are feeling lonely, sad, or even a little anxious, this is for you. Remember that you are loved.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Jimin’s grip tightened around the handle of the water pitcher as the house began to shake violently. The water sloshed from the pitcher, spilling onto the floor around his feet. The little calico cat that kept him company hopped onto the couch and curled itself into a ball of fluff. The few dishes he had trembled on top of the coffee table, all but threatening to fall to the floor. Craning his neck, he peeked out of the small kitchen window and sighed as the universe swirled in a kaleidoscope of colors and stars. The sheer curtains in the house fluttered with the speed of how fast everything was moving, causing his own blonde hair to fly back off his forehead.

Closing his eyes, Jimin held his breath and waited for the tremors to cease. He could never stare at the seemingly endless galaxies for too long. It always made him feel a little nauseous, even after all these years.

When the shaking finally ceased, he released the breath he held and opened his eyes when aggravated meows of protest reached his ears. Sighing, he turned to see the cat was now moving around on the couch in circles, kneading the cushions in determination before plopping its rump back down. The calico flicked its tail back and forth, patiently waiting for Jimin to open the window to let it roam about.

He poured the water into a glass, setting the pitcher down on the counter, and made his way over to the cat. Jimin stroked its head lovingly before leaning across the couch to unlatch the locks and pushed the window open. The cat wasted no time hopping outside to begin exploring. Shielding his eyes with his forearm, Jimin peered out to see where he’d landed this time.

When he’d landed this time.

The cat rolled happily in the bed of flowers, chasing after a butterfly. Wherever Jimin was, it was quiet and seemingly barren for as far as the eye could see. There were forests to one side and a rolling set of hills on the other. In the very center, separating both landmarks, was a wide open field of countless flowers in varying colors and breeds. A breeze pushed against his face and he smiled, savoring the smell and taste of the ocean winds. He was by the sea.

The weather was nice and calm. He wouldn’t need to dress warm, but he stripped out of his white t-shirt and slid on a long-sleeved one instead; also white. He kept his white linen trousers on and didn’t bother with shoes. It would be nice to feel the grass between his toes. His last location was a desert and sand got old very quickly, as did the heat. He rarely went outside during that year.

As his feet touched the grass, he was immediately filled with the fragrant smell of the flowers. He made sure not to inhale too much, or the aroma would overwhelm him. His little feline companion was long gone - seemingly off to explore and hunt whatever she wanted. Jimin didn’t mind. His friend always came back.

He walked around the entire radius of the house to get a good idea of his surroundings and tried to figure out the layout. Whatever time he was in, he couldn’t quite determine it. Not without notable landmarks and people to gauge their clothing or the latest technology of that era. Once he saw anything remotely familiar, he would figure out the rest. 

He’d lost count of how many times he’d moved through time and space like this.

Spinning on his heels, he spread his arms out and flopped into the bed of flowers. Petals fluttered in the air around him, some falling into his hair and on his face. He smiled widely and even laughed. How he’d missed the clean air and the feel of cool grass on his skin. Jimin made a note to savor every moment he had in this time before he was forced to leave it again.

The sun felt warm on his face, lulling him into a serene state until he felt his lids growing heavy. He would have drifted off to sleep had it not been for his furry companion feeling the need to hop onto his stomach at that moment. The cat purred as he laughed and stroked the cat’s back. 

“Did you find anything interesting?” he asked. The cat meowed in response, but not really giving him an answer. Jimin smiled, petting its head. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Sitting up, he gathered the cat into his arms and stood up from the ground. “Let’s do a bit more exploring, hm?”

The two of them wandered around where they could. An invisible wall prevented Jimin from going further than two hundred meters in any direction. As he pressed his hand against the barrier, he gave a dejected sigh before returning back to the house. On the outside, it looked like a Tudor cottage with natural brick and molding. Everything else was white or a soft yellow color for the trimming, the roof tiles a rich cobalt blue. It was the strangest house he’d ever seen and it was probably the reason he was drawn to it in the first place.

Truth be told, Jimin couldn’t recall how long he’d been in that house. He didn’t even remember how old he was supposed to be or what time period he hailed from originally. All the clothing, food, and other necessities were replenished on their own. If the climate he was transported to was cold, all of his clothing was suited for the temperature drop. If it was hot, humid or dry, his clothes changed to match it as well. The house provided it all. He stopped questioning how and why a long long time ago.

Everything he owned was white, save for the bedding, which was just a simple yellow blanket. The couch was slate in color. There were a few plants in the house but they were all green and simple to take care of. Namely the cactus that sat on his coffee table.

He set the cat down and opened the door, waiting for the calico to prance inside. The house had enough natural light streaming from outside that the lack of actual lighting fixtures made little difference to Jimin. If he needed a light source, he would always light a candle or burn some oil in the lantern.

It would be just another year for Jimin. One year of many.

After he finished showering, he changed into some fresh garments and began scrounging up something together for a modest meal. The scent of flowers overwhelmed him to the point where he needed to come inside and lay down for a few hours. After smelling the acrid air of the desert, it was a stark contrast but one that he knew wouldn’t take long for him to acclimate.

For the first time in a while, he was actually excited to discover more of his new environment.

The first few weeks were uneventful. They always were. 

Once he was used to the floral aroma that wafted in through his windows, he made it a point to gather up fresh flowers and placed them throughout the house. The interior in its entirety was white, so the bursts of color that the flowers provided were a welcome change. Jimin could hardly remember a time where he was able to be surrounded by nature in its colorful bountifulness. 

He’d been from place to place and from one time to the next. He jumped from the past where architecture was still done by hand to the future where machines did most of the heavy labor. Some skies were clear and blue, others were dark and overcast. Rain, sleet, snow, high winds and desert storms. Jimin was able to experience them all thanks to the power of the house that moved him in and out of existence through an ethereal portal he couldn’t begin to hope to understand.

Strangely enough, he didn’t age. He assumed it was from the power of the house. There was no other explanation. He stopped questioning it years ago because he forgot the reason he was in the house in the first place, or how he’d gotten there. 

Certain things were made clear from his travels through time, however, and it made coping with his isolation a little bit difficult. The invisible barrier was one. His inability to grow old was another. He couldn’t destroy the house either. He tried many years ago in a fit of anger and didn’t leave a scratch on the surface. He couldn’t even burn it down. He tried that too. 

Jimin only stayed in one place and time for a year. Then the house would jump through time. The house would never leave without him, because the house and he were connected. Even if Jimin was outside after the year was over, he would get pulled back inside for the journey. 

The one that struck him the hardest, however, was the fact that no one could see him or the house. This made interacting with people impossible. 

No matter how much he screamed, no one could hear him. No matter how hard he tried to touch someone, they could not feel him. His hand would pass straight through their bodies, as though he were little more than a ghost to them. But he wasn’t dead, of that he was most certain. 

He couldn’t recall, exactly, how far back it was he’d learned these things, but they were lessons that stuck with him for a very long time. Since then, he simply flitted in and out of existence, watching the world and the people in it pass him by. So far, the only being he could actually interact with was the calico cat that lived in the house with him and as far as Jimin could tell, the cat was always by his side.

The months rolled on in an even keel and there was still no sign of a single person in sight. The weather was getting warmer, breaching into summer. From what Jimin could gather, he arrived at the onset of spring. It wouldn’t be long before autumn was upon him and he would no longer be able to relish in the lovely landscape as things began to die. The thought of it caused a pained expression to form on his face. He didn’t like to witness things wilting before his eyes, but what choice did he have?

It rained for a few days straight, cooling the air and giving it a refresher of sorts. The rain always made Jimin sleepy and he often napped for hours at a time before getting up to feed himself, shower, and then return to bed. The cat enjoyed rainy days because it gave her an excuse to cuddle with Jimin as he spent the days lazily lying in bed.

The sound of laughter pulled Jimin from deep sleep, causing him to rouse from bed. Bleary eyed and a little groggy, he shuffled around from his room and out to the kitchen. The laughter was louder now and it was more than one set of tones from what he could gather. Pouring himself a glass of water, he drained it in a few gulps and then splashed some water on his face to fully rid himself of the sleepy haze still settled on the backs of his eyelids. 

Pulling back the sheer curtains, he peeked out of the kitchen window and blinked rapidly. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but he knew he wasn’t dreaming. There in the fields of flowers were several people; young men and women. They were sprawled out on a blanket, laughing and talking as a small radio sat at their side. Jazz peeled from the speakers and he could tell from the model that it was a mid to late 80s radio. There was a large picnic basket between them and one girl with red hair began pulling out things from inside of it. Two of the three boys scrambled off the blanket and started tossing a baseball between each other, the sound of the ball hitting the leather gloves like whip cracks to Jimin’s ears. 

The boy who remained was sitting with the two girls who were chatting it up while putting things on paper plates. Confident they couldn’t see him, Jimin poured himself another glass of water and stepped outside so he could hear them better. They were just within the two hundred meter barrier, but just barely.

“When’s Brianna comin’?” asked the boy with dirty blonde hair as bit into a sandwich.

The red-haired girl shrugged as she poured some orange juice into a cup and handed it to the blonde-haired girl beside her. “I dunno. She said she’d be here soon.”

The blonde scoffed as she leaned back on one hand. “She’s always late to these things. We only have a month and a half of summer vacation left before the new school year starts.”

The two boys tossing the ball back and forth looked at them. One of them had jet black hair that fell around his ears and the other was mousy and in a bowl cut. “Then we’ll officially be college students.”

The red-haired girl groaned, falling onto her side. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m dreading it already.”

The boy on the blanket chuckled. “Yeah right, Miss ‘I’m moving to New York to be a famous fashion designer’ Maxine.”

Maxine pouted, shifting to lay on her stomach. “Shut-up, Eddie. You all know how hard I worked to get that scholarship.”

“Aw, come on, Max,” teased the blonde, “you know he’s only teasing. Eddie’s just sad to see you leave our little circle of friendship.”

Eddie puffed out one of his cheeks and bit into the sandwich in annoyance. “Psh, whatever. No one asked you, Stephanie .”

The blonde, Stephanie, glared at him. “It’s Stevie. Call me Stephanie again and I’ll knock your fuckin’ block off.”

“Language, Stevie,” called the boy with black hair as he flashed her a grin.

“Oh, fuck you, James.” Stevie flipped her middle finger at him, which only caused him to dissolve into a small fit of laughter. 

The mousy-haired boy laughed as he tossed the ball to James. “You two should just get married already.”

James missed the ball, balking at his friend. “You’re out of your fuckin’ gourd, Marcus.”

Marcus rolled his eyes and motioned for James to toss the ball back to him. When he did, instead of it falling into his glove like it had been, it was caught in a bare hand. Jimin looked up to see a young girl with light brown skin and dark brown curls holding the ball. Dressed in a pair of distressed denim overall shorts, she wore a hunter green t-shirt underneath; a black and white flannel shirt tied around her waist. On her feet, instead of sandals, were a pair of combat boots. 

This ensemble had Jimin canting his head slightly. It wasn’t exactly a summer-type outfit, but what did he know about fashion? Everything he owned was white.

“Well look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” called Max as she sat up on her elbows, “we were beginning to think you were gonna be a no-show.”

“Yeah, Bree,” said Stevie, “where’ve you been?”

“Got held up at work,” Bree said as she tossed the ball back to James. She took a few steps and paused, her eyes meeting Jimin’s. The action was so sudden that he nearly dropped the glass of water he was holding. She pointed a finger at him. “Who’s the new guy?”

“Huh?” Eddie looked in the direction she was pointing, blinked as Jimin looked back at him, then faced Bree again. “Who’re you talkin’ about?”

This time she extended her arm, still pointing at Jimin. He took a step back, unsure of what to make of this new development. He could feel the heat rising up his neck and creeping over his face. 

“Him. Who is he?” Bree looked at the others as she placed a hand on her hip. “And did you guys actually ask him if we could hang out in the front yard of his house?”

Stevie’s brows furrowed as she stood up from the blanket. “What the hell are you talkin’ about, girl?” She turned her head in either direction. “What house? What guy?”

Bree rolled her eyes. “I swear to God, if you guys are tryin’ to play some game with me, I’m going to make your lives hell for the next hour.” She looked back at Jimin and his lips parted in both surprise and fear. “Hey you! Are you in on this too?”

“Bree, have you been smokin’ again?” Marcus teased as he gently pushed her back. “Told you about tokin’ it up so much during vacay.”

For a moment, all she did was look at Jimin; seemingly boring holes through his own sockets. He licked his lips, contemplating on responding, but was soon pulled from his shock after James moved to pick Bree up and spun her around as he hefted her stomach-first onto his shoulder. She kicked and smacked his back, turning her away from Jimin so that she could no longer catch him in her line of sight.

But that didn’t keep her from shouting.

“Yo! I’m talkin’ to you! Hey!” 

Jimin didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to answer. Someone was actually looking at him and speaking to him. This was the first time it’d happened in all the years he’d moved in and out of time. As much as he wanted to respond to her, he knew that she would only look like a raving lunatic if he tried to speak or interact with her in any way. So Jimin did the only thing he could at that moment.

He ran back into the house, slamming the door closed behind him.

Hours passed and the people still remained. Even as the sun was setting, they showed no signs of vacating the premises. They’d spent so much time out there that James managed to change the batteries on the portable radio in the midst of all their fun and games. Jimin was both confused and entranced. He longed to sit beside them as they turned on their flashlights and shared stories about their school year.

The one called “Bree” kept Jimin from even entertaining the idea of getting closer.

After the initial chaos from her outburst died down, he secretly hoped that she would merely view both the house and him as mere figments of her imagination. Clearly she was the more rebellious one of the group, partaking in recreational drugs as well as managing a part-time job. But that also made her a bit skeptical, at least from Jimin’s perspective. For a while, he believed she’d forgotten about him, as well as the house. But every so often, when he would peek out the window to be part of their little world, she would cast her umber hues in his direction, forcing Jimin to retreat back into the safety of his home.

Why was he so afraid? Wasn’t this what he’d always wanted? What he’d yearned for?

Hiding like this seemed silly and pointless.

When will I be able to speak to someone again? 

The thought weighed on his heart like a heavy anvil, threatening to sink all the way down to the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t remember how many years he traveled through the universe. But he could remember the loneliness he felt during that time. What was it like to have a normal conversation with someone? To be able to laugh and share memories together, no matter how exciting or dull they might have been? To cherish the small moments like the people were outside?

When would another opportunity like this come again for Jimin?

He knew this to be true. There was no sense in denying it or even ignoring it. There was no other truth. But it couldn’t shake the fear that lurked in the darkest recesses of his own heart.

He feared rejection. He was afraid of being turned away from anyone who could see him. So detached and far from the realm of normal, Jimin knew that anyone would find his circumstances both unreasonable and unbelievable. 

Being invisible was better than being ignored.

“So, we callin’ it a night or what?” It was Marcus. 

The sound of a yawn being stifled was heard. “Yeah, I think so.” Now it was Stevie.

There was a distinct rustling noise of things being gathered. Jimin, while locked away in the house, hadn’t strayed too far from the window. He made sure to keep himself hidden in case Bree had any urges to look in his direction. But in those hours, he’d grown accustomed to whose voice belonged to which person and enjoyed being able to get to know them despite the lack of interaction. It made him sad to know that they would be leaving; even more so that he didn’t know when they would be back. If they would be back.

He took a chance to peek out the window and saw the group rolling up their things. They all laughed, chatted more, and promised to get together again later in the week when they were all free. Something about hitting the mall or maybe going to watch a movie. Jimin pressed his back to the wall as the sounds of their footsteps faded off in the distance.

A movie. Jimin tried hard to think back on when he last saw a movie. His earliest memory was so fuzzy and he couldn’t be sure if it was accurate.

The calico cat meowed as she rubbed her body in between each of his legs, bringing him out of his thoughts. Crouching down, he began to stroke the cat’s spine and tail before rubbing her head lovingly. She purred happily to the attention and he smiled. “You wanted to play with them too, huh? I’m sorry, but it was too risky to let you out.” The cat meowed again, as if understanding his words, and he gathered her up into his arms. “Maybe I’ll read a book tonight…”

Jimin managed to take a few steps into the main living area when the sound of the door knocking caused him to drop his friend. The cat landed softly on her paws and scampered away to the couch, leaving him seemingly frozen in time. He couldn’t ignore the cold sweat dripping from his neck or the heavy ache in his chest from how hard his heart was thudding against it.

Craning his neck, he peered at the door. 

Again, three knocks hit from the other side.

“Hello?” 

It had to be her. It couldn’t have been anyone else. But clearly she’d left with the others. What reason would she have to turn back?

“Hey, I know you’re in there.” In most cases, that phrase would have been threatening. But her voice belied something else. “Look, I just wanna talk, okay?”

This was it. This was the moment Jimin wanted. He wanted it more than anything he’d ever wanted in his entire life.

Yet all he could do was stare at the door. His body refused to move. He wanted to, but his feet were rooted in place. There was a lump forming in his throat and he wasn’t sure if he could swallow it down enough to speak. To tell this person to go away, even though he secretly yearned for them to stay.

“J-Just a minute,” came his weak response. 

He wasn’t sure if she’d heard him, but he took a moment to gather his courage before forcing himself to cross the short distance to the front door. It wasn’t locked. She could have just waltzed in if she pleased. Jimin was thankful she hadn’t, though. He wasn’t sure how he would have responded if she’d barged in unannounced.

When he opened the door, Jimin felt his heart skip a beat as he looked at Bree. He shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t like this was the first time she was seeing him. But this time they were less than three feet from each other. She stood with her hands folded across her chest, giving him the once over with a glance. Jimin flushed, averting his gaze for half a second before moving back to her. 

She’s pretty, he thought suddenly, causing another rush of heat to stain his cheeks. It was unexpected but was also still his own opinion.

“Good evening.” 

It was the only thing Jimin could come up with that didn’t sound stupid.

“You too,” she said almost dismissively. It wasn’t offensive, but it was clear that Bree had her own priorities. “So what’s your deal?”

He nervously placed a hand on the back of his neck. “What do you mean?”

“You. This house.” Bree looked to her left, right, then back to him. “How come no one else can see it but I can?”

Biting his lower lip, he felt his brows knit in worry. He couldn’t very well lie to her. So he chose to tell her the truth. “I honestly don’t know.”

A single brow lifted on Bree’s face. “You don’t know or you won’t tell me?” 

Jimin shook his head. “I really don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

He winced slightly. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

Sighing, she brushed a hand through her dark curls. “Okay, well what do you know?”

“That you’re the first person who’s been able to see me and this house.” The cat meowed, moving between Jimin’s feet to rub her body against Bree’s leg. She looked down and blinked at the feline, then looked back at Jimin. “And the cat.”

The calico continued to weave in and out from between Bree’s legs until she finally relented, leaning down to pick up the cat. His companion seemed to appreciate being able to interact with someone other than him and he felt a little offended. Bree petted the cat for a moment, then held her hand out toward him. For a while, all he did was stare at her hand.

“I’m Brianna Larkins. Friends call me Bree.”

Slowly, he reached for her hand. But just as he was about to touch her, he hesitated. Part of him still couldn’t believe this was happening. Jimin was afraid that his hand would pass straight through hers like he were a mere apparition. 

Bree took the initiative, grabbing his hand with her own. It caused him to jump slightly, the sensation of touching another person a seemingly foreign concept to him. He’d well and truly forgotten what it was like to feel the skin of another human being. All he could do was watch, dumbfounded, as she shook their hands up and down.

“I’m Jimin.”

She canted her head slightly. “No last name?”

“I can’t remember it.”

She didn’t bother hiding her scoff as she let his hand go. Already he was mourning the absence of her touch. “Figures.” Bree lifted herself onto the balls of her feet to peek inside the house just over his shoulder. “So, can I come in or what?”

Again, another question he didn’t know the answer to. Surely if she could see both the house and him, as well as touch him, then she should have been able to cross the threshold into the house. But that was just a theory. One he’d never had the pleasure of putting into practice.

“S-Sure,” Jimin managed to stammer out as he stood to the side, giving her room to step through the entrance. 

And just like that, she stepped past the door frame and into his main living area like it was the most natural thing on earth. Jimin stood speechless while still holding the door open. Bree pulled off her combat boots, the calico still held delicately in her arms as she moved in and out of the space he alone occupied for so long. Well, him and his little furry friend. It was too strange and his mind was having a difficult time processing everything that was happening. 

If he could describe the sensation accurately, Jimin felt like he was walking through water that was a mile deep and he was on the verge of drowning.

“Little lacking in the interior decorating department, don’t you think?” she asked while slowly turning as she walked. 

Jimin rubbed at the back of his head. “That’s not something I can really control, unfortunately.” 

And it was true. Even if he could paint the walls, they would just turn white again after a matter of minutes. 

Bree shrugged as she turned to face him. “Better than some awful wallpaper or something.”

“Yeah,” was all he could say. 

Why was talking to another person so hard? It shouldn’t have been this difficult, should it?

He watched her head to the sitting area where only his gray sofa was, along with the coffee table. She flopped down on the cushions, the cat wriggling out of her arms to crawl onto the windowsill. Bree looked at Jimin expectantly and for a moment, he didn’t understand what was supposed to happen next. She suddenly patted the empty seat next to her. 

“Well?”

“Uh, right…” Jimin took a step, then stopped himself. “Oh, I didn’t even offer you anything to drink.” He turned to head back to the kitchen.

“It’s fine, seriously, dude.” When he looked back at Bree, he saw her smiling, clearly amused with his flustered behavior. “I said I wanted to talk and I meant it. So c’mere.”

Deciding to just go along with whatever was happening, Jimin crossed the short space and slowly sank onto the couch beside her. His heartbeat thundered like war drums in his ear and he started closing and opening his hands by his knees. This was unreal and he couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to do next.

“So,” she said while clapping her hands together, “let’s try to figure some shit out.”

He whipped his head to look at her, half his vision obscured by his blonde fringe. “H-Huh?”

Bree shrugged while raising her brows. “I mean, don’t you think it’s a little weird that I can see you and the house and no one else can?”

“Well, yeah…” Though Jimin wouldn’t have necessarily called it weird as he would uncircumstantial. 

“There’s got to be some kinda puzzle behind this.” He watched her bite into her lower lip as her brows furrowed in thought this time. Bree gave a low hum, as if she were trying to piece something together in her head. “You’re obviously not a ghost.” She reached out and poked his cheek for good measure, causing Jimin to lean back a bit as his eyes widened in shock. Again, sensations he wasn’t used to feeling. “You look human, but that doesn’t mean you’re not an alien.”

He pouted. “I’m not an alien.”

Bree blinked at him, then laughed at his reaction. “Okay, fine. You’re not an alien then.” She gave her head a slight tilt while placing a hand on her chin. “Are you some kind of angel?”

Jimin relaxed a little. Her teasing nature eased some of the tension that was weighing on his shoulders. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, as stupid as this might sound, it’s because you’re wearing all white.” She gestured to the rest of the house. “The entire house is white.”

“Not all of it.”

“No, you’re right.” Bree leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. “But I can’t think of anything else.”

He sighed a little. Jimin couldn’t help himself, but it happened anyway. “Why can’t I just be human?”

For a while, a small stretch of silence managed to lurk between them. Suddenly, Bree sat up straight and punched her fist into her hand. It startled Jimin, causing him to lean back slightly. Her eyes were shining brightly, like she’d just had an idea.

“That’s it!” 

Bree jumped from the couch and Jimin felt himself standing on impulse. He watched her scrambling to put on her shoes and as he was about to call out to her, she turned to face him. Whatever popped into her head suddenly, she was hellbent on leaving to figure it out. 

“Where are you going?” 

Jimin hadn’t meant to ask. It just slipped out. Part of him worried that if she left, he’d never see her again. This was his one opportunity to be able to actually interact with another person and he didn’t want it taken away from him. The moment felt far too short. 

“I need to get home.” She held up a finger, still smiling. “But don’t worry. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

And before he could ask her what she meant, the girl turned and ran out the door. There was a heaviness that sank over him as the latch clicked. While he didn’t doubt her words, Jimin couldn’t ignore the overwhelming sense of loneliness clinging to him in her absence.

In just a few short minutes, his house felt emptier.

Bree returned the next day.

And the day after that.

And the day after that. 

Until Summer slowly came to an end, yielding into Fall.

Every day that she left and returned, Jimin was both sad and elated. He understood the meaning behind the phrase “welcome back”, even though he never said it out loud. The power of “goodbye” was heavier than he could even begin to fathom. He knew the steps that it took to truly get to know someone, because knowing a person meant cherishing every single feeling and interaction that came with it.

Bree brought over tons of books. Some were reference texts and others were compilations of fairy tales. He didn’t understand the latter until she explained it. And what she managed to divulge actually made a lot of sense.

“See here,” she said, pointing to a paragraph in the tale of Beauty and the Beast, “the Beast wasn’t allowed to leave the castle. There was a spell cast on him, a curse, and the only way the curse would be broken is if a person could see past the beast on the outside and into the heart of the man on the inside.”

Jimin furrowed his brows. “But it says that he was cursed because of his arrogance.” He met Bree’s gaze. “He turned the old woman away who wanted shelter from the storm and that’s why she cursed him.”

“So?”

“So you think I’m cursed?”

Bree sat up straight. “Don’t you?”

He frowned. “What makes you think I’m cursed?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe because no one can see this house or you, but you can see everyone else? Or maybe because you’ve been in isolation so long that that you lost your memories? Or maybe because you can’t go more than two hundred meters in any given direction?” Defiantly, she folded her arms across her chest. “Or maybe because you can’t age and your house is a literal fucking time machine that moves you back and forth from the past, to the present, to the future? Or MAYBE--”

Jimin held his hands up in defeat, not even realizing that he was smiling. “Okay, okay! I get it. Enough already.” He let his hands settle back into his lap. “Okay. Maybe you’re right.”

“Jesus, I wish you would listen to me,” she muttered while brushing her thick curls off her shoulders. Her attention returned to the book and she leaned forward, resting her elbows onto her knees as she scanned the pages again. Jimin came to learn of her sarcastic nature and was often on the receiving end of her tongue lashes. “All of it points to you being cursed, but it doesn’t help that you can’t even remember why you’re here or where you originally came from.” Chin still propped in her hands, she craned her neck to look up at him. “You sure you don’t remember anything?”

A pained expression formed and before he could hide it, Bree was already sitting up again. He could see the apologetic look on her face, and he felt guilty instantly. He hadn’t meant to be so expressive, but the more he interacted with her, the more free he was with his emotions. 

“I’m sorry, Jimin. I didn’t mean it that way--”

“I know,” he said softly, “it’s okay.”

She threaded her fingers through her hair, groaning in aggravation. “God, this is so frustrating!” Again, her attention returned to the book. “What are we missing?”

“A miracle,” Jimin said flatly, to which Bree cuffed him on the shoulder. He laughed from surprise more than actual pain. 

“I’m serious.” She pouted. “There’s gotta be something we’re not paying attention to.”

Jimin couldn’t figure out what the missing piece to the puzzle was. Part of him honestly didn’t care. He was enjoying the time he got to spend with Bree and there was no guarantee that he would be able to return to his original time. It was all just theories and hypothetical possibilities at this point. If it was one thing he learned during all of his travel through various eras in history, it was to value the present. The past and the future were inconsequential.

“Does it really matter?” 

He didn’t miss the look on Bree’s face at his question. But he wondered if it did, in fact, matter? He’d been living his life this way for so long. Interacting with Bree was a variable he hadn’t accounted for. He just wanted to focus on the here and now. 

She sat up a little straighter, then sighed. “Aren’t you tired of living like this?”

Yes, I’m tired of it.

But he knew the truth. She knew it too. When his year was up, Jimin was going to have to leave this place. He would leave it behind just like he did all the others; with no hope of ever returning. Regardless of what he may have wanted, the end result would always be the same.

A lump formed in his throat, making it impossible to respond. He parted his lips to speak, but then gave up. Averting his gaze, he stared at the open book on the table. His vision blurred momentarily as he fought back oncoming tears. A sad smile formed on his lips.

“...does it really matter?”

Jimin saw Bree less and less as the Fall season hit full force. School was back in session and she worked part-time. But she made a point to always come by on her off days or when she finished up with her classes. He was able to glean that she must have lived nearby. Was the area he was in a rural township of sorts? He thought about asking her to bring a magazine or newspaper the next time she decided to pay him a visit, but they were usually caught up with various other conversations and he only remembered long after she was gone.

Her absences weighed heavily on Jimin. They’d been so engrossed in fairy tales and folklore that he often compared himself to Rapunzel, trapped in isolation and waiting for his one true destined one to save him from his prison. It was safe, comfortable, and he wasn’t in chains, but it was a prison just the same. 

The leaves changed color and fell from the branches. Vibrant greens transformed into browns and beige. The flowers were long dead. Jimin could tell from the area that he was in that it would snow and while it was something he was looking forward to, he wondered if it would be safe for Bree to trek around the mountainous area in the dead of night. It wasn’t like he could walk her home like he wanted to. 

He was stuck.

The front door opened, pulling Jimin from his thoughts. He was wrapped up in a blanket on the couch with a book in his lap. The cat, now named Juno thanks to Bree, looked up from her perch on the armrest. Bree stopped knocking on the door months back and there was never a need to lock it. Jimin remembered winning an argument they had about his safety with keeping the door unlocked. There was really no point. No one else could see the house to break in and it wasn’t like he had a key he could give her.

Bree quickly unraveled the scarf from around her neck. She was carrying something in her arms and it smelled sweet. Untangling himself from the blanket, he made his way into the kitchen as Bree busied herself with the dishes. Peering out the window, he saw how dark it was and frowned. 

“It’s late.” 

She pulled out some chocolate chip cookies from the bag and plated them. “Yeah, I know. I got held up at work again.”

“It’s not safe for you to be wandering around up here by yourself so late at night.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You could have just come first thing in the morning.”

Jimin was reprimanding her, but it’d been several days since their last meeting. Secretly, he was happy she was there. 

“Can’t. I have class in the morning.” She handed the plate to him.

The worry lines on his brow deepened. “Then you definitely shouldn’t have come out here.”

Bree rolled her eyes. It was only then that he noticed her bookbag. “Psh, you’d go stir crazy if I didn’t show up today. Besides, I brought cookies as a bribe.”

He’d hardly call that a bribe, but he was happy for the present. 

She poured them both a glass of milk each. He carried the plate to the living room and they both flopped on the couch at the same time. Bree skillfully didn’t spill a single drop of milk before setting the glasses on the table.

“Don’t you have homework?” Jimin nibbled on a cookie as he cast a sideways glance at her.

Rifling through her book bag, she dropped a few notebooks and pencils on top. “I finished it during break at work.” 

He raised his brows as she pulled out extra clothes and set them on the floor by the couch. “Uh, what are you--”

“I’m sleeping over,” she interjected, reaching down to pick up Juno and cuddle her into her lap.

For a while, Jimin said nothing. All he did was stare as she pulled her thick curls back into a low ponytail. 

Finally, it registered.

“W-What?” He turned to fully face her. “You’re staying here?!”

She cut her gaze at him. “Did I stutter?” He was about to ask why, but instead a cookie was pushed into his open mouth. “Besides, I had an idea I wanted to run by you and it couldn’t wait another day.”

Attempting to swallow the cookie, he grabbed the glass of milk and washed most of it down. The awkwardness of her staying over was overshadowed by his curiosity. “What idea?”

Biting into a cookie, she quickly opened one of her notebooks up and showed it to him. “The conditions.” She pointed to a series of bullet markings. “All the folk legends and fairy tales state that certain conditions have to be met in order to break the curse.”

“Okay,” he said while nodding, “but those conditions all stem from knowing what the curse entails, doesn’t it?” Jimin sighed. “So we’re still back at square one.”

Bree set the notebook down suddenly, leaned into his space and soon her face was inches from his own. Blinking rapidly, his heart suddenly thundered heavily against his chest. Jimin’s eyes momentarily crossed when he felt the velvet texture of Bree’s lips brushing against his own. The contact was swift enough that he couldn’t savor it, but long enough for him to get a taste of her cherry lip balm. 

When she finally pulled back, Jimin just stared open-mouthed at Bree. He almost missed the rose tint on her cheeks. Her dark skin tone made it a little bit more difficult to notice it, but the moonlight outside seemed to illuminate her face radiantly. 

Reality sank down on Jimin’s chest as he remembered to breathe. “W-W-Wh-What was that for?!”

“Do you feel any different?” Bree leaned back a little more. “Did it work?”

The absurdity of the question helped Jimin to collect himself. “Does it look like I’m back in my own time?”

“Who says this time isn’t your time?” she countered.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure it would be obvious if it actually worked.” Jimin pointed to a line in her notes. “Something phenomenal always happens soon after a curse is broken. That’s how you know.”

Bree snapped her fingers with a scoff. “Damn!”

Jimin couldn’t keep himself from laughing. “Next you’re gonna tell me to go slay some dragon.”

“If there was a dragon around, you bet your ass I would.” Jimin was thankful she turned away from him so he could focus on steadying his racing heartbeat. She bit her thumb in thought. “A kiss is usually a surefire way to break a curse. Since I’m the first person who’s seen the house and you, I figured that was the answer.”

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, he reached for another cookie. “There are probably more conditions that go along with that.”

Bree tilted her head slightly as she looked back at him. “So you think that I’m a variable in all of this?”

“It wouldn’t make sense for you not to be.” He furrowed his brows and looked back at her notes. “Everything points to you being a part of it. We just have to figure out how.”

Groaning, she flung herself against the couch and began kicking the heels of her feet on the floor in frustration. “This is annoying!” She covered her eyes with her forearm. “I don’t know how people in research and development go through all this trial and error nonsense.”

He flashed her a reassuring smile. “It’s kinda their job, Bree.” 

He watched her slip her arm off her face and flop down beside while she stared up at the ceiling. “Conditions need to be met…”

Jimin lightly poked her forehead to get her attention. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up too much. I’m just thankful for all the help and effort you’ve been putting in on my account.”

She gently moved his hand out the way before sitting up again. “I was so sure we were getting close.”

“We probably are. We just don’t know.” But that also brought up another curious thought. “Why are you so adamant about helping me anyway?”

“Huh?” Her expression clearly stated that she didn’t understand why Jimin would even ask such an obvious question. “I mean, don’t you want to go back to where your friends and family are? They’re probably freakin’ worried out of their heads, y’know?”

He smirked. “I doubt it.” 

There was no cynicism in his tone. Jimin believed that everything happened for a reason. 

He met Bree’s gaze and was surprised to see a tiny flicker of sadness in her umber hues. “I just want to get you home. That’s all.”

Kindness to a complete stranger. It was something archaic to Jimin because he wasn’t able to interact with people for quite some time. He knew that the people he cared about more than likely moved on with their lives after his disappearance. But Jimin also knew that if he miraculously wound up getting back to his original timeline, then it would settle all the other paradoxes surrounding his involvement. Things would go back to normal, in theory. Whoever placed this curse on him must have realized this, hence why he was unable to interact with people until now.

Leaning forward, he reached out to Bree and pulled her into his arms. He heard her gasp softly, his motions completely unexpected even to him. But he couldn’t think of any other way to express his gratitude. In the months he’d gotten to know her, he knew that Bree was rough around the edge but was genuinely a good person. Her determination to get him home, to the place where he belonged, more than evident in her actions. They weren’t just empty words. 

Jimin could perceive that now after having been denied human interaction for many years.

“Thank you…” 

When he pulled back, their noses were just barely touching. Then he leaned in to press his lips against hers. He tasted the sweetness of the cookies and her cherry lip balm all over again. Jimin slowly urged her lips apart with his tongue, silently asking for entrance. When she complied, he slid his tongue across her teeth and over her own pink muscle. 

The sigh mingled with the moan Bree managed to push out from her chest and he pulled her even closer so he would be able to hear her heartbeat. Bree’s hands slowly slid up his torso, resting her palms on his chest. Jimin took his time pulling and nipping at her full lips, enjoying the sweet taste of her mouth. Part of it was the cookie. Part of it was her lip balm. The rest was just simply how she tasted naturally.

As their lips parted, he smiled and bumped his forehead against her own. Even though his shadow covered half of her face, he could feel the warmth simmering along the surface of her skin. Jimin closed her notebook with one hand, still smiling as he stared into her face.

“I know as the host, I should be nice and offer you my bed while I take the couch. But would you be against us both using the bed?”

Bree blinked a few times, then flashed a devious grin. “I wouldn’t be against it, no.”

Jimin immediately scooped Bree into his arms, carrying her like a new bride. There wouldn’t be any mischief. At least, that wouldn’t be the plan. All he wanted was to savor this moment, the sound of Bree’s laughter as he carted her off to the bedroom, Juno hot on their heels. 

The house didn’t feel so big anymore and the joy Jimin felt was indescribable. 

Fall was fleeting and Winter swept in faster than Jimin could have anticipated. The house was warm as per the conditions it needed for him to remain comfortable. His clothes changed to suit the shift in temperature. He had to be thankful for all that the house was able to provide for him. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle actually having to do everything on his own outside of the normal things. 

As much as he fussed at Bree for wanting to continue to trek up the mountain to see him, Jimin relished in the closeness that blossomed even further between them. 

True to his word, they didn’t actually do anything that night. He had a sense of morals and a conscience, not wanting to seem like he was trying to take advantage of Bree’s kindness and affection toward him. Outside of kissing, they just cuddled and slept in the bed. He wouldn’t go further than that and Bree seemed to pick up on his need to not press things too far.

Jimin was just glad that Bree took everything surrounding his circumstances in stride. She was understanding, open-minded, and willing to help. He couldn’t imagine what it would have been like between them if she’d been a full-blown skeptic. 

They never put a label on what they were to each other. He didn’t know about her, but Jimin felt there wasn’t a need. In six months’ time, he would disappear from her life like a passing dream. Maybe she would come to forget him. She would move on as if nothing changed and continue to strive towards her own aspirations. Jimin would remain in his proverbial prison, clinging to the memories that he’d made with her; hoping to seek solace on the more lonely nights when he knew he would inevitably miss her.

It was getting even colder out. He didn’t want Juno going out and getting frostbite in the snow that was slowly starting to pile up outside. The cat made a fuss about it initially, but after walking around just by the window, she understood that her little paws weren’t going to like being wet and cold. 

Despite the biting chill of the air, Jimin admired how picturesque everything looked. The floral landscape was completely covered in a blanket of fresh powder. Even if he hadn’t met Bree, he was still lucky to be able to enjoy scenery like this. Traveling through time helped him to appreciate all forms of nature, but he couldn’t get enough of these images. 

He had a pot of coffee brewing and the aroma filtered throughout the house. He wasn’t big on coffee. Not usually. Jimin slept when he felt like it and was awake when he wanted to be. Having coffee seemed almost a little pointless. But ever since he met Bree, he’d indulged here and there. It was more for her sake than his own since it was apparent that she didn’t get much sleep. Even less since having met him.

His brows furrowed slightly, shaking off the guilt that tried to sit on the forefront of his mind. Jimin knew it was her own choice that kept her coming back. No one else’s. She would have smacked him for trying to shoulder the responsibility all on his own and it wasn’t fair for him to take it.

As he poured himself a cup of coffee, he noticed the small clock on the counter. It was a present from Bree. There was nothing fancy about it. Just a simple clock that only needed batteries changed out every so often. She left said batteries in a drawer. Jimin scoffed about not needing to know the time, his predicament making it obvious as to why. 

“Just because you never know where you wind up doesn’t mean you should ignore what time it is while you’re there.”

Jimin’s lips pulled into a small smile. She was right. This, and many things, were the small lessons that he was beginning to finally learn. As if it was Bree’s purpose to teach them to him. 

It would make leaving her that much harder. 

He entered the living room after checking the time, his free hand reaching out to unlatch the window. Despite the cold, Jimin still wanted to get a bit of fresh air circulating inside of the house. The sun had long since set and Bree would be battling through the cold to see him. He saw a few flurries starting to float from the sky, his brows furrowing at the thought of the snow falling heavier and further impeding Bree’s trek up the mountain.

I hope she takes it slow…

The worry didn’t start setting in until several hours passed by. Initially, he simply shrugged it off as nothing. It wasn’t unheard of for Bree to be late. She could’ve easily gotten caught up with her job or even hanging out with her friends from school. The group she came up there with seemed close. 

But as the night pushed onward with no sign of Bree in sight, Jimin began to get a little concerned.

Unlatching the window, he pushed it open and a rush of cold air whipped across his body. The chill shot down his spine, causing his skin to pepper out in goosebumps. The muscles in his shoulder grew taut as he fought back the urge to shiver. Juno meowed in protest to the cold, hopping down onto the couch to curl herself against one of the throw pillows. The full moon hung like a pearl in the sky, illuminating the world around him. 

In the distance, he heard several howls. Their cries filled the night air, indicating that they were gathering together. Possibly for a hunt. The prospect of food in the area seemed a little slim, but Jimin didn’t think it was impossible. Especially if they were making rounds in preparation to stalk their prey. 

Fear suddenly gripped at Jimin’s chest. Juno’s mewling snapped him out of his trance and he hopped out of the window. The cold nipped at his feet, but he didn’t care. He could barely feel it. The snow crunched under his feet as the wind continued to push around him, the flurries falling heavier than they had a few hours earlier. 

He cupped his hands around his mouth. “BREE!” His voice echoed over the wide expanse of the landscape. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

There was nothing. Nothing save for the sound of his voice bouncing back at him. 

And then he heard a scream.

Jimin trounced forward, wading through several feet of snow. Desperation pushed him forward, forcing him to start running. He pumped his legs into the ground as hard as he could until he slammed into the invisible wall. The force of impact knocked him back-first into the snow and the cold clung to every inch of his skin. Not wasting a single second, he scrambled back onto his feet and began kicking and punching the wall, clawing at the barrier with his bare hands. At some point he started to scream, but he couldn’t remember when. The burning sensation rippling down his throat kept him alert until something snapped inside of him.

The sound of glass shattering echoed in his head. It was loud, like an explosion. Before he’d realized what’d happened, he was taking off at a dead run toward the cluster of trees near the base of the mountain. The world was a blur around him as he sped off toward his destination, following the howls of the wolves as his need to find Bree overshadowed all other rational thoughts that made vain attempts to come to the surface.

Pain registered in the back of his mind as he ran. The dying branches from trees and bushes seemed to reach out in their need to snatch him in the darkness. Jimin used the moonlight to guide him as twigs snapped against his body and dying leaves crunched under his bare feet.

Predatory snarls loomed around him, spurning him forward. Bree’s scream tore through the night, signaling where her location was. Slipping on wet grass, he crashed to his knees and rolled through the snow. The momentum helped him to get back up, making a quick right through the forest as the barks of wolves became louder. 

Bursting through a thicket of trees, he entered a clearing and saw half a dozen wolves in a semicircle advancing toward their prey. They turned in sync with one another in his direction as they bared their fangs at him. Bree was on the ground and holding her ankle while trying to shuffle back as much as she could. Jimin’s eyes met hers for a split second and he saw her face was red, splotchy,  and slick with tears.

“J-Jimin!”

Rage flared across Jimin’s chest as he picked up a broken tree branch. One of the wolves launched forward, his jet claws and pearl fangs gleaming in the moonlight. Jimin roared and swung with all the strength he could muster, the branch striking true as he slammed into the side of the wolf’s head. A sharp cry of pain came from the wild animal as it fell into the snow. The other wolves raised their hackles and moved toward him, snarling heavily as the clouds from their breath puffed in front of their snouts. 

Jimin took a second to glance at the branch in his hands and quickly assessed that he would be able to get one or two more hits in before it completely snapped. Splinters were lodged into his palms, stinging along his skin. He pushed the pain back as far as he could manage, taking a step forward as his grip tightened around the branch. 

“Bree, are you alright?” he asked. He sighed quickly at her nod. When he saw her about to stand, Jimin held his hand out to her. “Stay there!”

The wolves took this as their opportunity to attack and two of them leaped at Jimin. He swung out and hit one of their forelegs, causing the animal to hop back on three legs as it whined. The other wolf went for Jimin’s calf, forcing him to lift his leg up and out of the snow. The injured wolf launched himself from the snow and snapped his jaws. Jimin barely had time to react, using the branch as a shield and watching with horror as it snapped between the wolf’s teeth. 

A sharp pain registered on Jimin’s shoulder and he fell forward as another wolf’s weight smacked into his back. Claws dug into his skin beneath his sweater and the white fabric instantly stained crimson as the wolf bit mercilessly down into the meat of his shoulder. Crying out, he struggled to move out of the way as more of the wolves advanced on him. 

Bree’s scream brought him out back from nearly drowning in his agony and he looked up in time to see her throwing rocks at the wolves. One of them hit the wolf that was biting him, forcing him to release his grip. They snarled, making their way toward her. Jimin pushed himself up and ran at the wolf closest to her, kicking up a spray of white powder in its face. Without wasting another second, he snatched Bree’s wrist in his bleeding hand and pulled her onto her feet.

They ran like their lives depended on it.

The wolves kicked up snow as they gave chase, barking and snapping their jaws menacingly. Jimin’s vision blurred every so often, but the ensuing stumble quickly brought him back into focus. He tried to maintain his speed while also being conscientious of Bree as he pulled her along. Jimin could just barely hear their heavy breathing over the pounding of his heart. 

Jimin believed it was instinct that led him back to the house. Or was it the house itself pulling him by an invisible string? He didn’t question his surroundings and continued to run, his only concern for Bree’s safety. He was ready to force her to leave him behind if necessary.

Bursting through the treeline, they continued to run from their pursuers. The wolves gave chase only so far, however, and stopped completely as they rushed in through the front door. Jimin crashed onto the floor and Bree hurriedly slammed it shut. His breathing was labored as he lay there, his vision coming in and out of focus as he tried to stabilize his racing heartbeat. 

“Jimin!”

He could only just barely hear Bree’s voice. It felt so far away. Why did it feel so far away from him?

Something warm touched his back and he instantly took comfort in it. And then his body began to turn over. The sounds of wolf howls echoed through the night, announcing their retreat. They would not indulge in a meal tonight, forced to make due with empty stomachs.

“Are you crazy?!” Bree’s hand swept over his brow, brushing his bangs off his forehead. He couldn’t tell what her expression was, only that it was a mixture of fear and anger. “What were you thinking?!”

Her voice cracked a few times. Jimin could tell she was fighting back against something. But what, he couldn’t be sure. She cupped his cheek with her palm, sending more warm sensations across his entire body.

A hand’s warmth. 

It was something that people so often took for granted. 

Reaching up, he grasped at Bree’s wrist. “I’m so glad…”

Her face came into focus and he could see the tears sliding down her cheeks. She blinked down at him in confusion. “W-What?”

Jimin smiled. “I’m so glad...I was able to keep your hands...from getting cold.”

Bree sobbed, pulling him closer to her chest while burying her face into the juncture of his neck. “No! Please stop talking! Just...please stop…”

Letting her hand go, he started to pet her wild, curly hair. Bree gasped, pulling back a measure so she could look at him. He was happy she did so. Now he could see her beautiful face.

A strange sensation tingled over his skin, all the way down to the tips of his toes. He shouldn’t have been able to feel anything near his feet. They were more than likely frostbitten by now. But he wiggled them just to be sure, and the tingling feeling continued to increase. 

His body started to feel light, the sensation moving around in his stomach, through his lungs, and swirled around the center of his chest. Blinking, he shifted his gaze toward the window and felt his lips part slowly as he watched an aurora paint itself over the darkness. 

What? Jimin thought, confusion settling over his heart, What is happening?

The aurora transformed into a pink and purple nebula, the stars swirling from the center until they fanned out in strange, ethereal tendrils. Jimin tried to sit up, but felt he had no control over his body. Only that it was getting lighter and lighter for some reason. 

Was the house preparing to jump again? But it was too soon! He still had several more months before it was time. 

“What’s going on?” Bree asked, and he looked down to see what she was talking about. Gasping, he could only stare in shock as her body was now visible through his own. “What’s happening?!”

“I...I don’t know.” 

Lifting his hands up to his face, he saw the tingling sensation now manifested into tiny glowing particles along his skin. With each passing second, his body grew lighter and more transparent, until he started to float off the ground. Bree tried to grab for him, but to her horror and his own, her hands passed right through him. Jimin moved to touch her, and while he could feel her body, the physical sensation was absent. 

Was the curse finally broken?

“No!” he yelled suddenly. The distance between them started to increase and they both attempted to reach for the other in vain, their hands dissolving into one another. “Not yet!”

Jimin’s body lifted higher off the ground and the glowing particles brightened. Bree quickly stood on her feet and he saw Juno appear in between her ankles. The cat meowed in protest as they seemed to get further and further away from him.

“Don’t go!” shouted Bree as she tried to jump and reach for him, but he was too far away.

Was this really the end?

“I love you!” Jimin yelled suddenly, causing Bree to stop her attempts to pull him back. 

She blinked up at him. “J-Jimin…”

A sad smile formed on his lips. This was inevitable. There was nothing they could do to stop this. He was going back to his own time now; to his own world.

“I love you so much…”

Bree gasped, covering her mouth. But when it seemed he would pass through the ceiling, she lowered her hands and flashed the same sad smile back up to him.

“...I love you too.”

And as though those were the magic words, everything quickly disappeared around him. The house, Bree, the cat. Everything was replaced with a swirling galaxy of stars and a colorful galaxy. A harsh wind pushed through his body, pulsing over the plane of his skin, and he felt his tears spilling from his eyes. Time slowed and sped up simultaneously and he curled himself into a ball, burying his face in his hands as he sobbed.

Jimin should have been elated. He was going back to his time. Things were going to finally fit themselves into the right place. All the pieces of the puzzle were found.

But at that moment, Jimin felt more alone than he had in all the years he’d spent in that house.

Because he’d loved and lost in what felt like a single snapshot of time.

His curse was lifted, but he felt emptier than he’d ever been.

To Jimin, his true curse was only just beginning.

[jaigny]

Siren Silvers

for @cassgoths Luuuuurve Island

YA/23/Polish-Irish and German Ethnic Backgrounds/She/They/Pansexual/

Aspiration and Traits:- 

Soulmate - Alluring - Self Absorbed - Hot Headed - Family Oriented

Hometowns:

Newcrest (Childhood home til she was 17), San Myshuno ( From 117 to 22 years old.) and finally Sulani (Current residency of 22ys and up)

Facts/MiniStory

- She has hetetrochromia although you have too look super close as one eye is a slate blue grey and one is a more whiter.

- She likes hot chocolate and very rarely drinks coffee but does love tea of any flavor!

- She loves pizza rolls and makes them as treats with her daughter Honey from scratch. She loves baking with her kid.

- Although one of her traits is self absorbed she used it to protect her kid.( As will be explained later)

- Her favorite flowers are  Gardenias and Lilacs and Jasmine.

- Her favorite colours are blues, golds and pastel neutrals (e.g off white etc)

- She mainly sings and does odd jobs to financially support both her and Honey whilst once every few months getting paid child support from Honey’s father’s parents

- Only sings to her daughter now and professionally. Not as a hobby sadly 

- Calls honey her little Honeysuckle or Sweet Sunshine even if Honey just screws her face up all adorably 

   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her grandparents on her mother’s side moved to Windernberg. And Her mother met her husband/Siren’s father at the local down town’s tudor cafe.

She lived a fairly normal happy childhood. Parents/Grandparents ( on both sides) loved her dearly in Newcrest and once when she was 17 a few months before her 18th birthday moved to San Myshuno which is only a few hours from her parents.

A few months into living in San Myshuno’s Art’s Quarter she met her first boyfriend through a gig, and discovered she had a talent for singing and song writing and not long became his band’s lead female vocalist whilst earning money through other gigs and events and the desperate odd job.

After a 6-9 month of being together, he started to become distant,would go out at random times day and night, controlling, extremely jealous and even dabbled in alcohol and drugs. She only had of course found out to the top of the pile that he was also cheating on her after catching him in the act whilst drunk and high off he had taken to the possible female backup vocalist they had been having on and off during their practices to see how she’s do as Siren’s back/background up vocalist and after packing her things told him to scream and scream whilst he screwed himself on the largest and prickliest cactus possible, cut her ties with the band members and left him in his shitty little apartment in the Arts Quarter and moved to the Spice District to start again providing herself financially by doing what she loved, expressing herself through music and even working at a karaoke bar for awhile but left in fear of being seen by her ex and his friends.

It was a long while til she met her second boyfriend (and the father of her daughter.) in surprisingly a cute small cafe’ by accidentally barging into him pouring cold frappe coffee all over the both of them but after meeting up and getting to know one another became friends to lovers and at first all was great. they were happy until she saw little warning signs of the real demons that raised hell just below the surface that sprung up making him violent,abusive and at times an alcoholic until she became accidentally pregnant. During her third trimester a few weeks before the baby’s due date, after a normal argument spun out of control into something like a enraged stupor and hit her slightly in the womb and into the wall triggering her pregnancy.

After a few weeks after Honey was born - he seemed almost normal, not becoming aggressive, beating on her etc But one day during their shopping routine  he grew into jealous if nor not jealous man like her first relationship. That only erupted once he saw her being assisted by another man as she struggled with carrying their new born and groceries . and after he confronted her,and the fight esculated being threatened to be hit is when she told him to leave, and cool off which he did for a good few long hours and when the the door slammed is when she moved into action quickly packing all of her own and honey’s belongings and a one way ticket for them both. The only people who know of her where abouts are her own parents and as well as well as his own (2nd boyfriends parents that lived in Oasis Springs) as both sets of parents were concerned and absolutely appalled by his behavior and have allowed to to to stay in Sulani as long as she accepted child support that his parents sent every moth to support them.

She’s lived peacefully in Sulani now for nearly close o a year in Sulani’s warm and accepting community, even after healing began to one and ff date people she now calls good caring and supportive friends (After just deciding to be friends cause they felt the romance wasn’t going anywhere.) as well as lovely suprise visits every few months by both sets of grandparents as well as their own love and support.

His parents haven’t heard much of their son after they left and although they are still appalled by his behavior are somewhat concerned for his safety and hopefully hasn’t injured himself or others and is getting the help he needs.

As she furthers her healing and being strong with those around her she despite humming and haring about entering this competition, is happy now as she had both grandparents not along ago -- a few days mostly  beforehand come down for a surprise trip again and so they were fine with looking after her little honeysuckle to pursue what she wants to do with this contest decision and so after putting pen to paper...has just done that.

[bathtubdefenseattorney]

Doting

ao3

“Don’t carry that,” Ymir barked and snatched the small potted cactus from Historia’s hands.

“It weighs like a pound,” Historia said.

“You don’t need extra pounds.”

“Did you just…”

“I mean! You’re carrying our child.”

“You called me fat,” Historia said with a grin. “You jerk!”

“I did not! I’m just lightening the load for you. Don’t carry shit,” Ymir said, pointing the cactus at her. A little of its dirt fell from the pot and onto the sidewalk. “Don’t worry. You’re perfect. Gorgeous. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. But if you feel like crying just let it out, you know—"

Historia laid a hand on her huge belly. “Yim, I am not gonna—”

“COUCH COMING THROUGH!” Eren said and they turned to see him laying on a leather couch carried by a struggling Reiner and Bert.

“How’d you get them to go along with that?” Ymir asked.

Eren stretched luxuriantly. “I paid them.”

Reiner tilted the couch, sending Eren careening into the grass.

“Yeah, about that,” Reiner said. “I’m upping my fee from $10 to $20. Per yard traveled.”

Eren spat grass. “Steep,” he muttered, getting to his feet. “I’m gonna go find the first aid kit…Asshole.”

“It’s packed in with the baby stuff,” Ymir said. “Because you’re a baby?”

“I got it.”

Right. The baby stuff, Historia thought. There’d been mountains of it. Stupidly bought by Ymir several months in advance. Bought before they moved.

Then, the rest of their friends had ditched out on the moving plans, leaving only Reiner, Bert, Eren, and Ymir to carry the heavy stuff. Historia had nothing to do.

She rubbed at her aching back. She was 35 weeks along, and despite the doctor’s reassurances, Ymir still treated every moment as if her wife could die. Sure, Historia was waited on hand and foot, but she was NEVER left alone. Historia didn’t want to be the nagging wife, so she kept her grievances on the downlow.

She looked up the walkway, to the summer lake house Ymir’s parents had owned for decades. Giddy with the prospect of a grandchild, they’d given it no strings attached to the happy couple. It was gorgeous. A huge, Tudor style home with Lake Sina as its backyard. How could Historia ask for anything more?

She let Reiner and Bert pass her by with the couch. When they set it down in the living room—her living room, she reminded herself—she would home in on the couch and rest. If she couldn’t carry a plant without her wife having a hemorrhage, she’d rest.

“Hissy,” Ymir said. “You’re laying down when they get that couch settled. HURRY UP,” she called after Bert and Reiner.

Historia sighed. “No, I think I’d like to take a look at the garden again.”

“Seriously? You know you can’t garden in your condition.”

“I can’t do anything,” she mumbled back. She walked past Ymir, ignoring her confused stare.

“Don’t go in the garden!” Ymir said, grabbing her arm.

“Ymir,” Historia said, the tension rising in her voice. “I’m going to the garden.”

Ymir shrugged. “Okay. Fine. Ruin the surprise.”

Historia ignored her, pulling back the curtains that revealed the backyard. But what she saw wasn’t the lake and the grass and the small garden she planned to expand. She saw a huge, long wooden table piled with food. The rest of her friends, all the ones who’d supposedly ducked out on moving furniture today, bustled about. Annie was on top of a chair, stringing cheery yellow lantern lights. Mikasa stood at the bottom, stubbornly waiting to catch her wife if she fell. Connie had stuffed two party honker things into his nostrils and was blowing them, making a hooting noise Historia could hear through the glass. Jean and Marco were laying out utensils. Sasha was sampling the food.

“Oh my God,” Historia said.

Ymir put her arm around her. “It’s not ready yet but…Surprise.”

Historia ducked her head and smiled. “You’re too much.”

“Anything for my family,” Ymir said.

“Don’t…make a pregnant woman cry,” Historia said, and Ymir pulled her closer.

“Let’s go out there. All your friends are waiting.”

Connie exhaled through his nose, hooting the party blowers until Jean threw them to the ground and slapped Connie upside the head.

“Thanks, Jean,” Sasha said through a mouthful of pasta.

“Hey,” Connie said to her. “Maybe cool it on the food before—”

“I’m eating for two!” Sasha said.

Her boyfriend went into shock, throwing up his hands and shuffling his feet in a sort of interpretive dance similar, Historia thought, to what Ymir had done when she announced their own baby.

“Whaaaa…” Connie said.

“Really?! Congratulations!” Marco beamed.

“Yes,” Sasha said, proudly laying a hand on her belly. “You see, there are two wolves inside us all. And one of them wants pasta, while the other wants ice cream. The one that wins is the one that you f—”

Connie threw a serving fork at her. “DON’T MAKE JOKES LIKE THAT.”

“If there were two wolves,” Jean said, “you’d be eating for three.”

“Hey. Math was never my—”

Then Annie “accidentally” dropped a string of lanterns onto Sasha’s head.

“Sorry, Sasha…Anyway,” Annie said to Mikasa. “I Told you Ymir would blow the surprise.”

“Yeah, well. You took that side of the bet before I got a chance.” And then Mikasa handed Annie twenty dollars.

“Do I get a slice of that?” Ymir asked.

Historia pulled out a chair (everyone insisted that she sit at the head of the table) and eyed the spread of food. Fat wedges of all kinds of cheese, bordered by what Ymir had for months been calling Historia’s “pre-natal crackers of choice.” Plates of soft homemade bread accompanied by slabs of creamy pale yellow butter. A pie that would prove to be apricot, lovingly crafted by Sasha (and later eaten, almost exclusively, by that same baker). Heaping bowls of fresh arugula salads. Cuts of tender, roasted pork. The table was overflowing.

When all the lights were strung and lit, casting gold haloes that attracted humming insects the bug spray couldn’t drive off, when the sun just dipped sleepy and pink beyond the lake, when all her beautiful, wonderful friends were seated, Historia raised her glass of grape juice in a toast.

“I—”

“Everyone!” Ymir said, standing and almost breaking her glass as loud as she was smacking it with her fork. “A toast!”

A chorus of yeah’s.

“When Historia and I got married, I swore to protect her no matter what. So you could imagine how terrified I was to find out that her four foot eleven frame, uh, would get put under so much stress.”

Laughter and cheering around the table. Historia gave her wife a begrudging half smile.

“Anyway,” Ymir went on. “This party is my way of saying that I would do anything to keep my family happy.”

Yes, Historia thought. It had become increasingly clear, from the day the pregnancy test read positive, that Ymir would do anything for Historia and their baby. The only thing she wouldn’t do was stop worrying.

Ymir kept on toasting, and when the tears fell down Historia’s face, she passed them off as joyful ones.

“And I’m telling you I like doing dishes,” Historia said for the fifth time. As fun as the party had been, as entertaining as her friends were, Historia needed a moment to relax.

“Okay. I’ll dry,” Ymir said and grabbed a dishtowel.

Historia huffed. “Fine.”

“Hormones?”

Wrong. Thing. To say. But Historia clenched her jaw and went on washing.

“Hormones, yes,” she said under her breath. She scrubbed at the dish that had cooked the creamy pasta sauce they’d all eaten to excess. Historia could feel Ymir’s eyes on her. “You know I love you,” she said softly. “But—”

“But what?” Ymir’s voice was terrified, as if she feared Historia would divorce her, leave her, just like that. Stupid, doting worry.

The pan slipped from Historia’s grasp, into the sudsy water.

“Ow…ow ow! Ymir? Ow?!” Historia doubled over in pain.

“Oh…uh, shit fuck let’s…”

Historia clenched at Ymir’s arm, her other hand on her stomach. “Get the car. We have to go. NOW, Ymir.”

Leaving the house was a blur for Ymir: after stammering a terrified stream of gibberish that only Annie could decipher (“I think Historia, like, popped. Along with Ymir’s brain.”), and a sprint to the car, and a sprint back to the house in a frantic search for fucking keys, Ymir got into the car where her wife waited silently, already buckled, the baby bag thrown in the back.

You’re suffering, Ymir thought. Historia’s eyes were pulled shut tight, both hands held to her belly. She sighed and moaned.

“Ymir. Drive or something?”

“Um. OH, YEAH.”

Ymir started up the car and peeled out of the long driveway, running over more than one hapless shrub.

“Are you okay?”

“…I’m in labor, Ymir.”

Ymir broke out in another cold sweat and stayed silent. For a moment.

“But it hurts,” Ymir put in.

“Stop. Talking.”

“Are you sure?”

Historia doubled over in a contraction. Tears sprang to Ymir’s eyes, and she swiped at them as she sped through a yellow light. A twenty-minute drive to the ER, less if she was booking it like this. God, why hadn’t Ymir pushed harder on renting that townhouse five minutes from the hospital? Sure the lake house was what they wanted but…Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The time passed with Ymir’s heart in her throat. Her grip was sure to make permanent imprints on the steering wheel, the way Historia was crying out in agony.

At last the hospital came into sight. Ymir skidded the car to a stop, parked, and sprinted to Historia’s door.

“Hissy,” she said. “Let’s…Oh my God, you’re locked in. Fuck.” She jiggled the handle, about to bust the window with her own forehead when Historia calmly unlocked the door from the inside (duh) and moved to step out.

“Ymir…”

“Don’t get out! I’ll…” She looked back at the hospital doors. “I’ll get a wheelchair.”

“No, just…shut up. I can walk on my own.”

Another contraction hit, nearly buckling Historia to her knees. If Ymir hadn’t been there to catch her…

“Get OFF of me, Ymir!”

Ymir froze and took a step back. “What?”

“I wanted a cottage style house, Ymir.” Her head hung low, and her tears hit the pavement as Ymir looked on in horror. “ I wanted…a cottage for us. With a small garden that wouldn’t get flooded by a whole damn lake.”

“We can move. I’ll move us. I’ll do anything—”

“THEN JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE FOR ONCE.”

Historia drew the bangs that had fallen in her face and said, “I’m…sorry. I wanted to tell you before, but I don’t want you in the delivery room with me.”

“Historia…”

Two hospital staff came out with a wheelchair.

“I’m sorry,” Historia said. “I need a…”—she flinched as another wave of pain hit—“I need a breather.”

“But I’m the mom,” Ymir said, lost, as Historia sat down in the chair.

“And so am I,” Historia said with a weak smile. “Stay in the waiting room or I’ll kill you.”

Ymir was left standing there alone, until her friends found her.

“You have been a real mama bear,” Reiner said in the waiting room.

“Insufferable,” Mikasa said without looking from her phone.

“Ditto,” from Annie.

“I’d have murdered you yesterday,” Sasha said. Everyone else nodded.

Ymir sat crouched, head in her hands. “You’re all very helpful.”

It had been well over an hour, and the sting of rejection was more like a vise.

“Where the fuck is the doctor…”

“Doctoring?” Connie said.

“He’ll be super busy right now,” Bert said.

“Based on how fast you said the contractions were coming,” Armin said, “it could be any minute now.”

“How should I know?” Ymir said. “I wasn’t even timing them. This is all my fault…”

“True,” Jean answered, followed by murmurs of agreement.

“She just needs time to cool off and, uh, give birth,” Marco said.

Ymir sat up. “You guys are saying… you mean like…I smothered her?”

“S plus smother equals mother,” Eren said. They all agreed it was the wisest thing he’d ever said (Connie: “He did, like, WORD math!”), and clapped him on the back. That brought something like a smile to Ymir’s face. She was just about to thank them when the doctor walked in.

“Ymir? Are you ready to meet your daughter?”

“I…what kind of fucking quest—I mean YEAH.”

“She’s perfect. Like you,” Ymir said, and Historia smiled sleepily. The baby squirmed and shot out a tiny fist that made Ymir gasp. She already had an impressive tuft of golden hair falling on her forehead.

“I really am sorry,” Historia said again.

Ymir shook her head. “No. This one’s on me.”

“Hey, Yim?”

“Hm?”

“Do something for me.”

“Yeah. Anyth—I mean, what?”

“Just…never leave me again.”

Ymir smiled and leaned in for a kiss. “Whatever you say, Hissy.”

ao3

[bl0ndietequila]

Re-doing my blog.

I opened a new tumblr and I don't follow as much people/blogs I followed in the previous one.

So i would love to follow tumblrs about:

Anne Boleyn / The Tudors

Hannibal / Madds Mikkelsen - all that stuff

Glee

Lea Séydoux

Aesthetic things (???

Graveyards / Churchyards / Dark architecture

Lesbians / cute lesbian photos and stuff

Bullet journal / stationary / Lettering

Flowers / Woods / Natural things

Cactus 🌵

Horns / Bones

Dark things (?

[bartholomaus]

Cam ce postează un ”bun român”. Studiu și analiză ...

Vârsta medie 35-65 ani. Meseria sau sexul nu contează. Marea majoritate din postări sunt comune multor români.

Caracteristica generală: lipsa dubiilor și a îndoielilor, convingerile absolute, preluarea necritică a oricăror informații care le gâdilă orgoliul, abundă temele nostalgice, împărțirea în alb și negru a tuturor, inclusiv a vremurilor (ieri-bine, azi-rău)... Multe teme preluate de la propaganda rusă în diversele ei forme. Există o bogată critica a politicienilor (hoți, mincinoși, lacomi) per ansamblu dar niciodată a PSDului sau a pesediștilor

Deci, teme populare românești:

- Copiii erau respectuoși în trecut, azi amenință profesorii cu pistolul,

-Oamenii erau decenți în trecut, acum sunt plini de tatuaje și inelușe în nas,

-Oamenii se îmbrăcau cu gust pe vremuri, acum se îmbracă ca niște homosexuali ,

-Poză un soldat francez răpănos dar demn din ww1 și o poză a unui hipster efeminat (vai de noi!),

-Poză mausoleu: ” Glorie eroilor noștrii care au luptat la Mărășești”,

-Imagini cu burghezi îmbrăcați elegant din anii 30, când exista bună-rânduială și bun-simț,

-Hoax cu o floare magică din Himalaya care înflorește o dată la 400 de ani (în realitate o poză cu floarea unui cactus din Arizona care înflorește anual),

-Citat patriotic din Vadim Tudor (”și-a iubit mult țara, chiar dacă a mai făcut greșeli”),

-Poză nostalgică cu Maria Tănase (ehei ce artiști aveam odinioară),

-Avionul IAR-80 (ehei ce ingineri aveam odinioară),

-Multe poze cu mâini bătucite de țărani, (unele din Turcia sau Rusia): părinții noștri care știau ce e munca!,

-Poză cu împărțirea administrativă a României în anii 50: De ce ne-au impus rușii ”Regiunea Autonomă Maghiară”? (grrr!),

-Montaje foto – glumițe cu bețivani,

-Poză cu Ceaușescu și text: ”Ultima oară când l-am văzut construise o Țară”

-Poză bere rece,

-Poză cu o fată frumoasă în ie (cămașă) preluată fără să știe de la ruși, ucrainieni, bulgari sau unguri și prezentată ca românească: ” CEa mai frumoasă cămașă populară din Europa - ia românească”

-Căpșuni de import (rele) versus căpșuni dacice (bune) – uite unde ne-a adus agricultura UE,

-Poze cu tomate care tăiate au mult verde (asta vreți să mâncați?),

-Poză dulceagă cu ouă de Paște și cozonac: Hristos a Inviat! ,

-30 de pagini pozate dintr-o carte naționalistă din anii 30 despre Unirea din 1918,

-România trezește-te: selecție de caricaturi și montaje foto care ne arată cum România e o colonie condusă de americani și evrei malefici și lacomi,

-Poze despre cum în China se falsifică mâncarea în condiții insalubre (Doamne unde o să ajungem?),

-Poză apus soare cu texte zen despre cum să fi fericit,

-Poză cu tricolor pe care scrie ” nu mi-am dorit să mă nasc român, am avut noroc”,

-Poză soldați români în ww2: Datorită lor vorbim încă limba română,

-Poză Mihai Viteazul cu versurile ” Să știți voi europenii, că de-ar fi fost olteanul, azi, în genunchi citeați Coranul” ,

-Poză băbuță de la munte cu zâmbet blajin și multe riduri care îți întinde un măr, cu textul ”a fi OM nu ține de averi”,

-Poză Codruța Kovesi (Jigodie!),

-Caricatură cu Băsescu: ”unde morții m//i ai dus Flota?”,

-Fotografie prelucrată cu Iohannis nazist,

-poză 3 femei culturiste cu mușchi versus 3 bărbați uscați cu fustă, la o prezentare de modă (Doamne,unde o să ajungem?),

-Poză defilare ostași români : Respect Armata Română!,

-Icoană Sf Gheorghe cu 2 pahare șampanie: La mulți ani celor ce poartă numele Sf Mare Mucenic Gheorge,

-Poză cu travestiți grotesc la o paradă ghei undeva în străinătate: UE vrea să considerăm asta normal,

-Angela Merkel pe post de vampir,

-Montaj foto cu camion cu bușteni tăiați și cu Iohannis care râde, -Icoană cu Arhanghelii Mihail și Gavriil: ”La mulți ani...”,

-Citat Zen dintr-un călugăr rus cu chip blajin,

-Poză Ceaușescu cu fals citat : ”Tovarăși, acum înțelegeți de ce nu am vrut democrație? În comunism furați voi de la Stat, în democrație fură Statul de la voi”,

Panseu înșelept preot Ctin Necula, cu poză,

-Poza cu slănină cu ceapă: sushi de Ardeal,

-Foto montaj. Text : România este stat suveran și independent. Dedesupt poză cu Putin și Merkel care râd,

-Citat Țuțea,

-Glume porcoase cu ”laughing-face” mare, cu lacrimi,

-Glume misogine cu neveste și amante cu ”laughing-face” mare, cu lacrimi,

-Poză cu Regina Maria: Respect!,

-10 poze cu copii proprii,

-Harta ”Imperiului daco-pelasgic”,

-Poză țăblițele de la Tărtăria tricolore,

-Linkuri articole Cocoon și Efemeride

-Peisaje pitorești de munte, apusuri de soare

-Drapel tricolor cu draco dacic suprapus -Poze cu copii imbracati in camasi traditionale declarat romanesti, chiar daca multe sunt rusesti, ucrainiene sau chiar palestiniene.

--------------------------------- E părerea mea că pozele dulcege cu cafeluțe sunt kitsch! Și reprezintă o zahariseală care pe mine mă face să fiu sarcastic. Chiar dacă sunt persoane absolut onorabile care postează așa ceva. Dar dulcegăriile astea sunt kitsch!!! E ceva vulgar și ipocrit în excesul ăla de zen și pozitivism . Oameni cu neclarități grave. Astea sunt de obicei dovezi de prostie de aia sinceră, clară, cinstită. Oamenii nu înțeleg nimic din mersul lumii fiindcă sunt...proști. Nu fac conexiuni, nu-și pun întrebări, cred că tot ce zboară se mănâncă... E bine măcar că știu să citească/să scrie. Nu mai încerca să găsești scuze prostiei.Prostia nu înseamnă lipsa educației sau a instruirii. Ea se poate manifesta și la profesori universitari. Prin prostie înțeleg incapacitatea de a face conexiuni mentale corecte... --- si pozele de la "practica agricola" comunista -> gen era frumos, ne distram, nu era "exploatare de minori prin munca fortata neplatita" -- roșiile sunt legumele cele mai perisabile. iar marile magazine preferă să ia roșii mai curând crude și să păcălească clienții fraieri, decât să aducă roșii coapte. Fraier e cine cumpără. Roșii la fel de crude am vazut și în Germania și chiar în Turcia, țară producătoare de roșii. ---

Pe mine ma deranjeaza cind se dau interpretari nationaliste pt. diverse detalii legate de istoria Transilvaniei. Acum citeva zile, de ex., s-a postat pe un alt forum un articol care proclama o evreica savanta nascuta in Orastie pe la sfirsitul sec. XIX, ca o romanca de renume. Cind am aratat ca era evreica si nu romanca, si n-a avut nimic de-a face cu Romania, vin cu stereotipile nationaliste: pai s-a nascut in Orastie, nu? Da, dar atunci orasul se chema Szászváros si nu era in Romania. Contraataca cu argumentul ultim: pai orasul e in Transilvania, si Transilvania e pamint romanesc, indiferent de ocupatie (sic). Q.E.D.

La aceasta argumentatie nu mai am ce sa zic... ---- Nu te pune cu prostul ca te trage la nivelul lui si te bate cu experienta

[takaraphoenix]

Review: 03x17 - Heavenly Fire

On Magnus & Alec:

Holy shit is it an insensitive thing to say that Magnus is “back to his old self” like everything is fine and dandy again... I just... I am baffled at how much Alec fails to read a situation. Magnus is still suffering. He still doesn't have his magic or his immortality again. He lost essential parts of who he is. But sure, he's back to health so he's back to his old self. What Magnus needs is a fucking therapist, not a damn engagement ring and it's really unsettling to see just how busy Alec is playing house in his head instead of seeing just how much Magnus is still suffering and how he could actually use some... help there? Instead of apartment hunting and wedding planning??

“Have you been drinking?” just completely killed me. FUCK YOU FUCK YOU ALEC AND FUCK YOU SHOW. MAGNUS BANE HAS BEEN AN ACTIVE ALCOHOLIC ALL OF SEASON 2. HE HAS BEEN SLIPPING VERY OBVIOUSLY INTO ALCOHOLISM BUT NO ONE CARES.

The most correct quote of this show is Magnus summing himself up as being a “comic relief and drinking” because that is really what they’re doing, huh.

GODS DO I LOVE MAGNUS THIS EPISODE. And I love Harry acting his ass off in this. Because YES all of this. All the things he screams in Alec’s face during their date at the end is just so very right and it needed saying. And Harry plays it so well, the vulnerability, the pain and the anger. Urgh, I loved that scene. And, well, that’s a thing I never thought I’d say about a Ma/ec scene.

But I swear, if next episode Alec still thinks that a proposal is appropriate, someone’s gotta whack him over the head. Because if he doesn’t notice now just how much is wrong with Magnus and that he needs something else entirely, then fuck is Alec a failure as a boyfriend and as a human being.

Also, starting to get tired of just how much Magnus is being isolated from everyone else. Raphael, the man who is like a son to him, got banished by Isabelle without anyone telling Magnus and Magnus reacting to it, then he got arrested by Isabelle without anyone telling Magnus and Magnus reacting to it and now Raphael has been turned into a mundane and I swear, if we don’t get Magnus to fucking interact with Raphael now that they are both mundanes against their will--urgh.

On Jonathan & Clary:

Uhm so... they not only forgot that Jonathan was kinda blonde pre-burns, now they apparently also forgot the burns. Because, to put it into the words of @seb-verlacs, he is one crispy boy. So, why exactly is he... the Phantom of the Opera in this damn flashback? He never had a face. That's the whole point of them having to cast Will Tudor last season because our crispy boy took his face since his own was kinda, well, crispy. And now into a flashback pre-break-out, the only burn Jonathan has is a really very light one on one half of his face? What is this? (And you can't tell me it's because Jonathan is being an unreliable narrator, which he obviously is, because... he is not narrating how him and Lilith looked in this conversation, all Clary gets are the things they talk about. There is no reason aside from “We totally forgot just how burned he was”...)

The question here really is: Do they give even half a shit about this character...?

(But I like how Jace is “the piano playing Jonathan” xD)

Also, fuck, I really do feel bad for Jonathan. That boy's been through literal hell. Honestly, they gotta... gotta stop some?

But also: What the fuck is this retconned in connection between Jonathan and Clary? Why would they have that connection? It makes no sense. They don't share the same supernatural blood, then I would kind of understand a connection. They're not twins either. Jonathan is older than Clary, all they share is their Shadowhunter blood. There is no foundation, not logic and not experiments from Valentine, that justifies this stupid ass bullshit that Clary has had dreams about Jonathan all her life. Fuck “message from the angels”. Why would they. They clearly never cared about anyone. And Clary's powers hadn't even manifested as a small tiny girl. Fuck this.

On Isabelle, Simon & Raphael:

...Undercover Simon, huh? Are... I... Simon? Of all people? You met him, right? Like, he is not the stealthiest. Not to mention just how fucking dangerous this is.

And can we talk for a moment how fucking ridiculous this is? SIMON IS LITERALLY THE FIRST DAYLIGHTER SINCE CAIN FROM THE OLD DAYS. Like not EVERYONE at the Clave by now knows what the only Daylighter in existence looks like!!! Holy shit. This is peak stupidity.

And also: Helen! And Aline! Give me lesbians! All the lesbians! Though holy shit, Helen is really out there asking “What are you talking about?” when there is literal constant screams from torture at the Guard? Like? Are those Seelie ears just pretty but don't work, or what?? I'm really, genuinely tired of them pretending like the foot-soldiers just do not question anything and not notice anything either. This is stupid, it was already stupid with Isabelle and Alec, but that they now introduce Helen who works right there on it, but daaamn...

And Victor Aldertree can go fuck a cactus. Enable her addiction? You STARTED IT. DELIBERATELY. Urgh. I just want to scream into the void at this point.

I'm... so confused about Raphael. I mean, at least they didn't murder him. But still, so much confusion. I mean, let's talk X-Men style here: This is great, if they'd offer it instead of force it – because there sure are Downworlders who would prefer to not be Downworlders anymore. Vampires and werewolves who were attacked against their will.

And we’re going to pretend like Aldertree did it all himself, huh. That Penhallow and everyone else just really did not know anything, huh. That the Clave is still innocent and all, huh. We’re really doing that, are we?

On Jace:

Oh, look. Jace gets to talk to Alec for the second time this season! But only about Ma/ec. Of course. It's not like there are... so many things going on that they could at the very fucking least ALSO talk about. Nope, only a snippet of conversation and that only and fully about Ma/ec. Why do you hate the parabatai bond and the fact that Alec and Jace are closer than brothers?

I am just... so... so... so tired that Jace this season has been nothing but Clary's Boyfriend. There is so much more going on than just her. Yes, she is the main character, no I'm not saying that he shouldn't care about her at all, but the fact that there is no care about him at all is really pissing me off at this point. He's been tortured and abducted and just holy shit how do they brush all of that just off, how do they brush off that he just had to face his abuser again?

Seriously, everyone gets a plotline, but Jace just stands at the sidelines, looking pretty and saying supportive things on the plotlines of Clary and Alec when needed...? This is... bad. This is pathetic. This is the Bad Place, my personal Bad Place.

On Luke & Maia:

-footage not found-

The TL;DR:

Literally everyone deserves better than this show. That's it, really